Violent Stories Of Lesbian Brutality
[aka 'Violent Lesbians']
by Unknown


FOREWORD 

There are women in the world who love to torture other women, and there are 
women who accept the torture when it comes from another female. 

In this book, you will read stories about one such torturing female, a woman 
named Marsha, who makes her living beating women and who finds her pleasure 
in beating them also. 

In one story, you will read about Marsha's initiation into the world of 
sadistic lesbianism, an initiation she shares with the teen-aged girl who 
lives next door to her. 

In another, you will follow Marsha as she trains a secretary so that the 
girl can endure the pain that her boss-lover Wants to give her. 

And, in what is perhaps the most shocking story, you will follow Marsha as 
she trains a daughter to be a high-classed dominatrix, a daughter who uses 
her own mother as a victim in her practice sessions. ft 

There are women like Marsha in the world, perhaps more of them than anyone 
cares to admit. Her stories are, in ways, universal stories, because, 
beneath the sadism, beneath the lesbian torture and brutality, there is a 
human soul, a human spirit trapped in the world of pleasure and pain. 

Her stories may be much like stories you could tell yourself. 


THE GIRL NEXT DOOR 

Marsha was sixteen years old. She was blonde and pretty and her tits were 
already nice and large. Men looked at her with lust in their eyes when they 
saw her walking down the street. She liked that. She thought that that gave 
her some kind of control over those men, some kind of control that very few 
other girls had. 

One more thing about Marsha: she would do anything. At sixteen, she was used 
to fucking girls. In fact, she had grown a little jaded. Traditional fucking 
seemed so old-fashioned to her. Sure, once in a while she would find some 
guy who was particularly good, who could ride her for hours at a time, who 
had some special little move that sent her spirit soaring as she came. But 
most of the guys were too average. One was usually like all the others. 

So, that summer day, as she lay in her back yard in her bikini, taking in 
the rays of the sun and feeling her skin grow warm and passionate, she tried 
to think up something new, something that would put a new zest into her 
life. 

When she thought about sex, Marsha always became a little sleepy. Those warm 
emotions gave her a nice feeling in her body and the sun added to that 
feeling. She rolled over on her back and closed her eyes and felt the sun 
beating down on her, turning her a golden tan. She liked to be tanned in the 
summertime. She only wished that she was able to sunbathe in the nude. Those 
little white streaks that were left by her bikini, she thought, looked ugly 
and silly. 

But she knew that some men liked those streaks. There was no way to figure 
out what some men would like, she thought in a lazy way. 

She lay there on the ground and let her mind roam. She thought about the men 
she had known and her consciousness scampered back in time to just a few 
months before when she had discovered something about sex, when she had 
discovered that she liked it. 

She had been almost fifteen at that time. 

Her parents did not care if she dated guys. In fact, her parents did not 
seem to care about anything. So she went out with boys who were seniors in 
high school, with boys who were seventeen and even eighteen, and she kissed 
them and let them feel her budding tits. She enjoyed those moments with guys 
when they were close together in the dark of the night. She felt that the 
night was soft and somehow safe. Marsha had that strange idea: nothing could 
really harm her as long as she worked in the dark. The sun was warm but the 
night protected her. 

And it had been late one night-actually early one morning-when she had first 
experienced sex. 

She had been wanting to fuck for a long time, and she had been thinking 
about fucking the guy she had been dating regularly for the past few weeks, 
a guy named Jimmy. When she finally worked up the courage that night and 
asked him if he would like to do it with her, Jimmy had been shocked. She 
was surprised at that, because Jimmy was seventeen years old. Marsha had 
just naturally assumed that Jimmy would have fucked some girl by that age. 

But she had been wrong. Jimmy was a prude. 

He had kissed her and played with her tits and he had even sucked on those 
tits, but he told her frankly that he did not want to fuck her. 

"Causes too many problems, Marsha," he explained, shaking his head. "Ain't 
worth it. I want to go to college and make something out of myself." 

Marsha had been confused. She did not understand how a little sex would keep 
Jimmy out of college and she touched his face when she asked him to explain 
to her the connection. 

"What does college have to do with it?" she said. "I mean, you can still go 
to college." 

"Maybe," he said softly, "but you can never tell. What if you get pregnant? 
What if this thing causes some sort of strange thing to pass between us? 
What if we fall in love or something like that? Then I would have to marry 
you and support you and I would not be able to concentrate on my college 
studies, even if I could scrape up enough money to go." 

Then he repeated his final conclusion about the whole question. 

"It just ain't worth it," he said. 

That had hurt Marsha. She liked to think that she was worth anything, and 
she knew that there were many boys who thought that she was worth a great 
deal, but Jimmy, that idiot, thought more of college that he did of her 
pussy. 

She hated Jimmy at that moment, hated him more than she had ever hated any 
other person in her life. 

Later, after he took her home, she stood in her front yard and looked at 
Jimmy driving away and she knew that she did not want to see that guy ever 
again. If he did not want to fuck her, she thought, she would find someone 
who would. 

There was no longer lust in her heart. In the place of the lust, there was a 
wild, girlish revenge. 

It was after midnight, and Marsha knew that her parents would already be 
asleep. She stood there in the front yard and tried to think of one boy that 
she would be able to find at this hour, one boy who would fuck her and fuck 
her until the sun came up. 

And then she thought of Bob. 

She smiled. Bob was Jimmy's best friend. They ran around together and Marsha 
had even double-dated with Jimmy and Bob and some girl named Delores that 
Bob took out every once in a while. 

But Bob was not like Jimmy. Marsha knew that he was no prude. She had often 
noticed the best friend of her regular guy staring at her just like the men 
on the street stared at her. She knew that she could get Bob if she wanted 
him. And she wanted him on this night. And one more thing made the plan very 
nice for Marsha: Bob only lived a few blocks from her house. 

She wondered if he would be home at this hour. 

With a firm, girlish resolve in her heart, Marsha started to walk toward 
Bob's house. As she walked, she tried to figure out how she would approach 
him even if he was at home. Should she just explain to him that she was 
still a virgin, and, since Jimmy would not fuck her, she wanted Bob to do 
it? Perhaps that would be the best way, she decided. The truth was always 
one option that made sense to Marsha. She did not lie when she did not have 
to. 

She and Jimmy had once gone to a party at Bob's house, and Marsha knew that 
Bob slept in the renovated basement of the house. She knew that there was a 
side door that opened to some steps that led down to the basement. She knew 
all of these things, and she knew too that Bob often s sneaked girls into 
the house late at night by using that side door. 

Then she stopped and stood still on the dark sidewalk in the pretty, 
residential area of the town where she had lived all of her life. She 
suddenly thought of another question that had not occurred to her before. 

What if Bob already had a girl down there with him? It was late, and it was 
Saturday night. That would be the night that a stud like Bob would use for 
his little, basement adventures. 

Marsha thought about it for a moment and she almost turned around and walked 
back to her own house. But something in. her would not allow her to give up 
so easily. Something in her drove her on to the house where she hoped that 
she would be fucked during these early morning hours. 

When she got to the house, she walked softly around to the side door that 
led to the basement bedroom of the stud friend of her prude boyfriend. All 
kinds of things ran through her head at that moment. The house was dark. She 
knew that Bob's parents were asleep, but was Bob asleep? Was he home? Was 
she down there with another girl? She stood at that door and asked herself 
all of those questions, and she did not know any of the answers. 

But then she thought about Jimmy, the guy who had turned her down, who had 
hurt her so deeply that night. She wanted her revenge, and she was 
determined to get it if she could. She would not allow anything to stand in 
her way. 

The young girl was almost ready to knock on the door when she heard 
footsteps coming up from the basement. Marsha scurried out of the way and 
hid behind some bushes. 

The door opened, and, in the moonlight, she saw Bob and a woman come out of 
the basement. She was shocked. The woman was Mrs. Fletcher, the young 
housewife who lived down the street from Bob and his parents. She kissed Bob 
and the boy put his arms around her and held her for a longest time. 

'Thank you," the woman muttered. "Thank you for everything." 

Marsha fought hard to keep from gasping. She understood what Mrs. Fletcher 
was thanking the young man for. Bob had obviously fucked her that night in 
that basement apartment. The girl behind the bush looked closely at the 
young housewife. She had to admit that she did not blame Bob for wanting to 
fuck this woman. Mrs. Fletcher had nice, full tits and she was very pretty, 
although she seemed very old to Marsha. Marsha knew, that, the woman was 
probably at least twenty-five. 

Why would Bob want her when he could have any teen-aged girl that he wanted? 
Marsha suddenly felt a great deal of hatred for this young woman. She wanted 
to run from behind the bush and start slapping the woman and screaming at 
her. She wanted to yell at the woman and ask her why she wanted to fuck 
somebody like Bob. Why didn't she fuck some man her own age? 

Marsha felt very sorry for herself in her girlish way. She felt her spirit 
sink as she thought that Bob would not be able to fuck her this night. The 
woman had already tired him out, she thought. This housewife had ruined her 
revenge on Jimmy. 

The young girl had never felt such conflicting emotions before. As she 
looked at the pretty woman walking away from the basement door, she thought 
of how nice she looked and how well she probably fucked, but she also hated 
her for spoiling everything. Why did she have to come over and visit Bob on 
this night, of all nights? Marsha sighed and sniffed the tears that were 
flowing down her pretty face. 

Bob obviously heard that sound. He looked toward the bushes and he started 
to walk toward Marsha. She had been caught! She wanted to run, but that 
would only make things worse. Marsha felt like the biggest fool in the world 
at that moment, as Bob looked over the bush and smiled down at her. 

"Hi," he said softly. "What are you doing here, Marsha?" 

Again, the girl remembered that the truth was the best thing. She looked up 
at Bob and she spoke the truth. 

"I came her so that you could fuck me," she said softly, feeling the tears 
burning her face, "but now I guess that you won't be able to. I guess that I 
will just go home." 

She was kneeling behind that bush. Bob laughed with a short, soft chuckle 
and reached up and helped her to stand up. 

"You won't tell anybody about her, will you, Marsha?" he asked. 

The girl wanted to tell someone about the housewife. She wanted to get her 
revenge on Mrs. Fletcher that way, but then she decided that that revenge 
was not very important. She did not want to get Bob angry at her. She knew 
that he could fuck her some other night, maybe, and her revenge on Jimmy was 
much more important than her revenge on a poor, sexy housewife. 

"I won't tell anyone," she said. 

"Good," Bob said. He looked back at the open door. 

"Why don't you come in and talk to me for a while," he said. 

Marsha looked at the open door too. She did not understand why Bob was 
inviting her in. It would not do any good, she thought. He would not be able 
to fuck her that night. But then she suddenly thought that maybe Bob still 
had enough in him to fuck her after all. She looked at him and she smiled. 
He did look very sexy. 

Bob was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. His feet were bare. He was 
thin but muscled and his body was always taut like a wire. She had seen Bob 
with his shirt off a couple of times and the sight of that muscled chest had 
given her a nice warm feeling in her panties. She wanted to go into the 
basement bedroom with Bob, but she did not know if it would do any good. 
Again, she knew that she would have 'to tell the young man the truth about 
her emotions and her questions at that moment. She could show no shame to 
Bob, not if she really wanted him to give her a good fucking that would 
start her life anew and get her revenge on Jimmy at the same time. 

"If I came in," she asked, "do you think that you would be able to fuck me?" 

Bob laughed again. 

"Sure," he said. "I did not do that with Mrs. Fletcher." 

"What?" 

Marsha was even more confused at that moment. If he had not fucked the 
housewife, why had she kissed him so passionately, why had she thanked him 
in that tone of voice? 

She wanted to know the whole story, and she knew that Bob would probably 
tell her if she went into the basement bedroom with him. She held his hand 
as they walked silently toward the open door. 

They went down the steps slowly. It was dark and Marsha had trouble making 
her way down the steps. She was afraid that she would stumble, and then she 
felt that she was not afraid at all. After all, she reasoned, the darkness 
would protect her. And she knew that Bob would catch her if she fell. 

When they got into the basement bedroom, Bob turned on a light. Marsha 
looked around the room and her eyes fell on the bed that was in the center 
of the room. It looked huge, and it was very neat . The sheets were pulled 
tightly over the bed. Maybe Bob had not fucked Mrs. Fletcher, she thought. 
She could not imagine the two of them making the bed up after they fucked at 
this time of night. 

But everything still confused the young girl a great deal. She finally 
turned to Bob and keeping her honesty she asked him the question that was 
bothering her. 

"What did you and Mrs. Fletcher do down here?" 

Bob chuckled again and moved toward the bed. He sat down on the edge of the 
soft, big thing and he smiled at the young girl. Bob must think that she was 
very stupid, Marsha suddenly thought, feeling her face turn red with a blush 
as that idea came to her. He must think that she was the most immature thing 
in the world. 

But Bob did not act like he thought that. He reached out and took her hands 
and pulled her to him and let Marsha sit in his lap. She liked that. Bob was 
only seventeen, but she liked the idea that he was playing the role of Daddy 
at that moment. After all, she thought, he was going to fuck her and make 
her into a real woman. 

Bob put his arms around Marsha's waist and she put her arms around his neck. 
They smiled at each other and they kissed each other. Suddenly, all thoughts 
of Mrs. Fletcher and Jimmy flew from Marsha's brain. Bob's kiss was so 
passionate and so warm. She had never been kissed like that before, and she 
knew that Bob would fuck her. He had promised to do that. The knowledge that 
that fucking was coming made the teen-ager feel even more lusty as she 
opened her mouth and let Bob move his tongue into her, as she ran one of her 
hands through Bob's dark hair and felt one of his hands move over her young, 
soft, excited tit. N 

When the kiss was over, she knew that the fucking was coming, but there was 
something that had to be settled in her head before she could really enjoy 
the experience. She whispered in Bob's ear playfully. 

"What was Mrs. Fletcher doing here?" 

Then Bob told her a story that changed her life in a very special way. 

"She has this weird thing that she does not want her husband to know about," 
he said in a whisper. "But she doesn't mind if I know about it because I go 
along with it. She-likes to come over here late at night. She takes off all 
her clothes and sits on the floor of the room and I curse her." 

"You what?" 

"I curse her. I call her names and she plays with herself and then she 
comes. After she comes, she goes home." 

"Why would any woman want to do that?" 

"People are very strange late at night, Marsha," Bob said with a nod. "I 
have learned that, and I am sure that you will learn that too." 

Marsha thought about what Bob had just said, and she wondered about all the 
people that she knew. What did they do late at night when they were 
protected by the darkness? 

She thought about the people who taught at the high school and the other 
students and Jimmy and her parents. What did her mother and father do late 
at night? Did her father curse her mother while the woman played with 
herself? Marsha doubted it. She knew that her parents rarely spoke to each 
other any longer. 

"Tell me more, Bob," she said with girlish excitement. 'Tell me more about 
what you have learned about people." 

She wanted to know all of the truth on this night. She wanted this night to 
be one of complete education for her, and besides the story that Bob had 
told her had turned her on. She wanted to hear more stories, stories 
guaranteed to make her pussy wet with desire. 

"Well," the young man, feeling Marsha's tit absent-mindedly as he thought 
about what he had learned, about what he could teach this sexy girl who sat 
in his lap, "I can tell you about Jimmy." 

"Jimmy," the girl said. She would have screamed exept for the knowledge that 
she had to keep very quiet. She and Bob could not afford to wake his 
parents. Then she leaned in close to Bob. "Tell me about Jimmy," she 
whispered. "What strange things does he do late "at night." 

"You have met his sister, right?" Bob asked. 

"Yes." 

Jimmy's sister was Claudia and she was a pretty, blonde girl who had gone 
away to college. She came home for holidays and for the summer. 

"Jimmy,-likes to tell me about the things that he and Claudia do when she 
comes home from college," Bob said. "He says that Claudialikes it when he 
watches her fuck." 

"What?" 

"Claudia fucks this guy here in town. The guy is married, but he is always 
open for Claudia when she calls him. During the summer, she brings the guy 
over to the house while her parents are at work and she fucks him in her 
bedroom and Jimmy sits in the closet and watches them. It turns Claudia on 
to know that Jimmy is watching her do it with that guy." 

Marsha did not say anything for a long time. She tried to visualize what 
Jimmy looked like, hunched in the closet. 

Bob helped her to see it when he added some more information. 

"Claudia bored a hole in the closet door so that Jimmy could look through it 
and watch her." 

Jimmy watched through a hole in the door, sitting there, surrounded by his 
sister's clothes in her closet. The idea was too much for Marsha. She could 
not even begin to comprehend the image that came into her head. It confused 
her even more. If Jimmy was willing to watch his sister fuck some guy, why 
wasn't he willing to fuck her? Again, she asked Bob her question. He seemed 
to have all the knowledge on this night, she thought, all the answers to all 
the things that bothered her. 

"Why wouldn't Jimmy fuck me?" she asked. 

"I am not sure, really," Bob said, "but I have a theory. He probably gave 
you some song-and-dance about going to college, didn't he?" 

Marsha nodded her head. "Well, that thing does not make sense, does it?" 

Again, the girl agreed with Bob with a silent move of her pretty head. 

"I think that Jimmy does not fuck girls because he has some secret lust for 
his own sister. I mean, it would be natural for him to have that kind of 
feeling toward Claudia. He has seen her fuck. I think he wants to fuck her 
too, but Tie is too frightened to admit it-even to himself. So he just 
refuses to fuck any girl, even a sexy, little thing like you, Marsha." 

As Bob said those last words, he pulled the blonde toward him and kissed her 
again. Marsha knew that he was tired of talking to her, tired of teaching, 
her all of the secret things that he knew. 

And she was tired of learning too. She wanted to get the fucking, the real 
learning started. 

As they kissed, Bob fell back on the bed and Marsha tumbled with him. They 
rolled on the bed and kissed and Marsha felt the hardness in Bob's jeans as 
he moved his body close to hers. 

She sighed when she felt that hardness. To her, it seemed like a very 
important feeling, perhaps the most important in her life. 

Marsha was wearing a little, blue blouse that night. She had dressed very 
nicely for her date with Jimmy, and it had not done her any good. When Bob 
began to open that blouse with his experienced fingers, the blonde girl 
thought that she was finally going to do it. She was finally going to fuck a 
boy and make her life mean something. And she was happy that it was Bob who 
was touching her and unbuttoning her blouse. This young man, who was still a 
high school student and teen-ager himself, seemed to know so much. He had 
experienced so much. Marsha knew that she had found the right teacher for 
her sexual education. 

When Bob had unbuttoned her blouse, Marsha sat up on the bed and let him 
help her take the blouse off. Her skin was tingling with nervous excitement 
and she could feel the muscles in her body going wild as she shivered and 
shook with passionate emotion. She was not really afraid, she thought. She 
was just anxious. She wanted to get this fucking started, for she longed to 
find out how it would feel to have a man's cock inside her pussy. 

Bob reached around her and quickly unsnapped her little white bra. She took 
that bra off and she sat there on the bed, feeling very proud of her budding 
breasts. Bob's smile made her even more proud of them. She knew that she was 
pleasing him with the way that she looked and he would return that pleasure 
by giving her a good and sexy fucking. 

The young man put his hands on her tits and Marsha closed her eyes and 
gasped. She had never been touched like that before. She had never had a 
man's hands planted directly on her breasts with such softness and yet such 
masculine hardness too. Without even thinking about it, she reached out and 
ran her girlish hand over his crotch and felt his hardening cock. 

She suspected something and she looked at Bob and asked him another 
question. 

"You are not wearing any shorts, are you?" she asked. 

"No," he said with a smile. 

She smiled too and she moved her hand over his crotch again. His cock was so 
big and so hard, she thought. It made her feel like something was already 
invading her, some fire that warmed her and made her want even more fire in 
her system. 

Marsha lay back on the bed and kicked her little shoes off. She was just 
wearing a little skirt and her panties then and she suddenly wanted to be 
naked, to be completely free in front of Bob. He had probably seen a lot of 
naked girls before, she thought, but he would want to see her naked too. She 
wanted to make this experience memorable for the stud who knew so much. She 
wanted to make it as memorable for him as it was for her. 

She murmured to him. 

"I am a virgin, Bob. I have never done anything like this before. But I want 
to do it all tonight, Bob. I want you to show me how to do it all." 

The masculine boy chuckled again. 

"Well, I don't think we can do. it all, Marsha, not tonight. But we will do 
a lot of it, I assure you." 

Bob looked down at her girlish tits and then he pulled his T-shirt off with 
a steady, male movement. 

When his chest was bare, Marsha reached out and touched it and felt those 
nice muscles once again. She pulled him down to her and that feeling of skin 
against skin, his bare chest against her soft, naked tits excited her even 
more. He kissed her face with wet, little smacks and thrilled her as he 
muttered to her. 

"We will do a lot tonight, Marsha." 

He ran his hand down her body and moved his hand inside her skirt. She 
wanted to get that skirt off. She wanted to get rid of all the obstructions 
between her and Bob. She loosened the little thing and unzipped and then 
taised her hips up from the bed as Bob pulled the thing smoothly down her 
legs. 

Then she was just in her panties, her white panties. She glanced down and 
she noticed the wetness that stained that white material. Bob noticed it too 
and that wetness made him smile. 

"Okay, Marsha," he said softly, "get ready for the big stuff." 

He slipped his fingers inside her panties and raa those fingers through her 
soft pussy hair. The girl gasped with that touch. She had played with 
herself many times, usually thinking about how it would feel if Jimmy put 
his hand there, but this was more exciting than playing with herself. She 
did not know what Bob was going to do next, and the tension and the passion 
that filled her as she waited for his fingers to move again made her want 
him all the more. She was again glad that she had not fucked Jimmy. Jimmy, 
who watched his own sister fuck men, would not be this good, she thought. 
Bob was a youthful, muscled expert, and she liked the feeling that he was 
giving her. 

When Marsha lifted her hips, Bob took those panties off her with a smooth 
motion of his hands. She knew that he was used to pulling panties off women. 
When her legs were free, when she was totally naked, she felt a freedom that 
she had never felt before in her life. She spread her legs open and took 
Bob's hand and placed it directly on her pussy. 

"Do it for me," she muttered. 

And Bob knew just what to do. 

He ran one finger around the lips of her pussy and felt the wetness there. 
The finger was thrilling to the girl and she sighed as she felt it moving 
down there. Then Bob opened her pussy lips with a soft motion and Marsha 
felt the air go inside her. It was cold but it was also exciting and she 
knew that Bob would really open her up before this night was over. He would 
open her up in a way that she would never be able to be opened again. He 
would take her virginity with his cock and he would prepare her for a 
lifetime of fucking and fun. 

When Bob pulled his hand away from her pussy, Marsha opened her eyes and 
realized that she was already naked, but Bob still had his jeans on. He 
opened those jeans and pushed them down and lifted his legs and pulled them 
off. Then he was naked too. 

Marsha looked at the cock that sprang out from his body when he was naked. 
It looked so full and so male. She had never seen a cock before, but she was 
sure that this would be one of the best ones in the world. It had to be. Bob 
was so experienced. 

Then Bob spoke softly to her. 

"Marsha, you have to do what I tell you to do if you are going to learn 
everything that you can about sex. You have do it and have fun with it. I 
would not tell you to do anything that would not be fun and normal. Do you 
trust me, Marsha?" 

The girl kept her eyes on the prick and nodded her head. She did trust Bob. 
She knew that he would teach her well with that piece of meat. 

Hesitantly, she moved her hand down his naked body and felt his muscles. She 
was headed for that prick. Both of them knew that. They both knew that she 
wanted to touch the prick, but she also knew that this touch would be very 
special. It would be the first real touch of a man. After this, everything 
else would just be repetition, she thought. 

She closed her hand around the sturdy cock and sighed. 

Bob smiled at her. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the mouth. 

"Your hand feels good, Marsha," he whispered to her. 

"Your cock feels good too," she said. 

She moved her hand back and forth on the rod and felt it quiver under her 
touch. 

She liked knowing that she was making the prick respond to her with her 
touch. She opened her hand and looked down at the meat. It was beautiful and 
powerful and she wondered if it was ready to go into her pussy. 

Marsha looked back at Bob, and he seemed to read her mind. He shook his head 
slowly. 

"Not yet," he said, "but I will be ready after you suck on it for a few 
seconds." 

Suck on it? Marsha had never heard of any girl doing that. She reasoned that 
this was just one of those secrets that people had about what they did in 
the dark. She looked at the cock. It did look strangely sweet to her, and 
she wanted to please Bob. She remembered that she had promised to do what he 
told her to do. She remembered that he had promised not to tell her to do 
something that was not fun. She nodded her head and resolved to suck his big 
pole. She pushed him back on the bed with her hand and started to kiss his 
muscled, hairless chest. She wanted to take her time getting to his cock. 
She remembered that she had run her hand down his chest and stomach before 
that first touch of his pole and she knew that that had made that first 
touch even better arid more exciting. Again, she would work her way down his 
body, and Bob did not seem to mind. She seemed to be doing the right thing. 

Marsha decided to listen to the knowledge that came to her from deep in her 
mind, the knowledge that every girl has stored in her if she would only 
listen. She knew that her intuition would not lead her astray. 

The girl moved down his body, kissing his chest. She stuck out her little 
tongue and ran it around his nipple. She knew that she liked it when a boy 
did that to her, and she could tell by the way that Bob sighed when she did 
it to him that He liked it too. She remembered then that Jimmy had sucked on 
her nipples several times, but he had not done the ultimate thing. That 
damned Jimmy, she thought. She wanted to make this experience great for Bob. 
That would be part of her revenge on her boyfriend. 

She kissed his boyish nipple and then she moved to the other side of his 
chest and kissed the other nipple. She glanced back and saw the trail of 
spittle that she had left on his chest, running from one pink spot to the 
next. She liked that trail. She stuck out her tongue and moved further down 
his body and licked his stomach with a warm, wetness She ran her tongue into 
his navel and she felt Bob jerk. She did it again and he jerked again. Then 
she tried one more thing, a thing that her girlish intuition told her would 
work with that young man. 

She blew into the navel and Bob gasped and pressed his hand to the back of 
her head. He pushed her down to his little hole and she blew in it again and 
again. 

"That is incredible," he murmured to her as he held her down there. "No girl 
has ever done that to me before." 

Marsha had to smile with her own pride. She had given Bob something new too, 
just as he was giving her all of these new things. She knew then that she 
and Bob were equals in a special way. 

She left his navel and kissed and licked her way into his soft cock-hair. 
The hair was dark and she licked the feel of it on her wet, excited tongue. 
The hair also smelled very clean. In fact, all of Bob smelled clean and 
strangely pure. She liked that aroma of clean masculinity that came up from 
him. 

And then she could delay it no longer. She reached down and held his 
stiffening cock steady and kissed the tip of that piece. She ran her quick 
tongue over the piss slit in the end of the cock and tasted the sweet fluid 
that was already there, and she felt Bob jerk again. She knew that she was 
thrilling him, and she knew that she would continue to thrill him if she 
could only keep listening to that stiff voice that spoke to her from deep in 
her feminine brain. That voice would not do her wrong. 

And that voice told her to look up at Bob and speak to him and let him know 
just how lustful she was at that very moment. 

She did look up and she smiled as she said those dirty words that felt so 
good when they came from her lips. 

"Your cock is beautiful," she said softly. "I know that I am going to love 
sucking on it. I know that I am going to love the way that it tastes and the 
way that it will grow in my mouth. Then, when it has grown enough and 
hardened enough, I am going to love it when you shove that prick into my 
pussy and start fucking me for the first time in my life. This cock will be 
the most important one I will have in my life." 

Bob smiled down at her. He.opened his mouth to speak but all that came from 
his lips was a guttural sound of passion. She knew that her feminine voice 
had given her good advice again. She knew that she was exciting Bob very 
much. 

And Marsha also knew that every dirty word that she had said to Bob was 
true. This cock was going to be the most important cock in her life, and it 
did seem sweet and natural that she would suck on it and then let it come 
into her virgin cunt. Everything seemed very natural in that basement 
bedroom in those early morning hours. 

Marsha opened her lips and slowly lowered her head over the tip of the 
prick. Then she closed her lips tightly around the cockhead and felt the 
quivering meat in her. He was sweet! She ran her tongue over the rose head 
of the member and she tasted some more of that fluid in her mouth. 

"Go up and down on it," Bob murmured with passion. 

She followed his orders, for they were also the orders that that feminine 
part of her brain had given her. She began to bob up and down on the prick, 
pressing her lips around it and feeling her soft lips battle the hardening 
power of his manhood. She sucked with delight. She found herself thinking 
that this was fun, more fun than kissing or having her tits sucked. For the 
first time in her life, Marsha felt like a real woman as she bobbed up and 
down on the cock. 

Then she felt Bob's hand on her head, his fingers running through her soft, 
blonde hair, and she knew that he had had enough of the sucking. She knew 
that he was now ready to fuck. His touch and that feminine voice told her 
all of this within a second. She pulled off his cock and kissed it one last 
time. 

The teen-aged girl moved up on the bed and lay down and spread her legs. She 
murmured to Bob with a voice as soft as the night that surrounded the house. 

"Fuck me, you handsome stud." 

Bob smiled as he moved toward her. He pulled her toward him and kissed her 
passionately and they rolled on the bed, rocking back and forth as Bob 
lifted her leg over his thigh. Her pussy was open then. It was open and 
juicy and yearning for his cock. 

Gently, the young man slid the meat into her. Then he made a forceful thrust 
and broke through her virginal wall. She felt the tingling shock run through 
her and then she started to kiss his face and thank him in a soft voice. 

"Oh, thank you, Bob. Thank you. You have made me a woman. Now fuck me. Fuck 
me hard. I want to be fucked like a woman should be fucked by a man." 

He responded to her words by moving the prick deeper into her well of honey 
and then began to move with a rhythm, pulling his cock back and then 
pressing his body closer to her as they lay there, joined together by adult 
experience, she thought. The pleasure of the cock running in and out of her 
pussy gave her a special warm feeling. She could feel her cunt open to make 
room for his huge ramming tool and she felt that tool rub against her 
girlish clit as it moved in and out of her. They were so close together, she 
thought, closer than she had ever been with any other male. But Marsha loved 
that closeness, loved the way that her body felt when it was pressed against 
Bob's, and she knew that she would have to feel more of this closeness with 
more men. With this first experience, her mind was made up. She was going to 
spend most of her life fucking and being fucked. She wanted to experience 
this close feeling a million times before she was dead. 

She remembered that resolution in her girlish soul on this hot afternoon, as 
she lay there and lazily looked up into the sun. Then she turned over and 
felt the warm rays fall on her back. 

Marsha still fucked Bob from time to time, and he was still one of her 
favorite men. But she had others, so many others that now she longed for 
something different, something special as that first time with Bob had been 
special. 

She chuckled to herself as she remembered Jimmy's reaction. 

The revenge would have not been complete if she had not told the boyfriend 
that she had fucked Bob on that night. At first, she had also planned to 
tell Jimmy that she knew about him and his sister, about his secret desires 
and his secret experiences, but then she decided that she did not want to 
get Bob in trouble with his best friend. So she just said that she had gone 
over to Bob's house and fucked him. 

She told Jimmy that the next day, when he came over to pick her up for their 
date. 

She had sat in the car in front of her house and told him that she had 
fucked Bob and that he had been a great fuck, a wonderful fuck. 

Jimmy had turned very white and then he had asked her to get out of the car. 

He never went out with Marsha again. 

But she did not mind that. She had other boys who wanted to go out with her 
and she started fucking them all, fucking them in cars and on the ground and 
in bedrooms, fucking them in stolen hours that meant a great deal to her at 
first and then became very sour for her, very boring. 

Now, at sixteen, she was terribly bored. 

She lay in the sun and thought about how bored she was and then she heard a 
girl's voice. 

"Hi, Marsha," the voice said, "can I join you." 

She opened her eyes and saw Peg, the teen-ager who lived next door. She was 
standing over Marsha in her own bikini and she looked very sexy with her 
slim body and her red hair. Peg was sixteen too, and she and Marsha knew 
each other, although Marsha could not say that she and Peg were really good 
friends. She had been too busy with guys during the past few months to make 
friends with girls. 

But now the blonde smiled at Peg. 

"It is sort of lonely when you sunbathe by yourself," Peg said, explaining 
why she had come over. "I saw you over here and I thought that maybe-" 

"Sure," Marsha said. 

Peg spread a blanket on the ground and sat down on it. She handed Marsha a 
tube of tanning lotion. 

"Could you rub my back?" 

"I would be happy to." 

The blonde sat up and took the lotion from her next door neighbor. As she 
began to rub that lotion into Peg's soft back, she started to think that she 
had been very foolish not to make friends with this sexy, little redhead. 
She felt her neighbor's softness and she suddenly thought of a way to ease 
the bored feelings in her own body. She smiled and she spoke softly to her 
new friend. 

"Tell me, Peg," she said, "what is new with you." 

"Oh, things have been pretty bad, Marsha," the girl said. "I just broke up 
with my boyfriend. You know David, don't you? David Weir?" 

"Yes," Marsha said. 

"Well, he and I dated for a few months but then we decided that it just was 
not working out. I have been sort of lonely the past couple of weeks." 

Marsha smiled. She knew that the girl was ripe and ready, and she knew that 
she was not going to be bored any longer. 

 PART TWO 

As the summer wore on, Marsha started talking to Peg more often, and soon 
the conversations took a good turn. like all teen-aged girls, when they 
thought of themselves as friends, they started to talk about boys and sex. 
When Peg began to discuss that subject one afternoon as she lay in the back 
yard with Marsha, the blonde knew that the redhead would soon be ready for 
some really wonderful experiences. 

"David and I were fucking, of course," the redhead said suddenly one hot 
afternoon. 

"Really?" Marsha said with a grin as she lay there on her stomach looking at 
her new friend. "Was he good?" 

"I guess so," Peg said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't really know 
for sure because I have only fucked one other guy and that was George 
Gleason. He was drunk that night and he almost threw up all over me." 

Marsha had to giggle. She knew George Gleason too, a fat little guy who was 
always talking about astronomy and stuff like that. She had never even 
wanted to fuck him, and that was very strange. Marsha would fuck anybody 
usually. Now she was glad that she had never spent any time with George 
Gleason. 

"But David was nice," Peg said thoughtfully, "real nice. He took his time 
with me and he made me want it just as badly as he did." She sighed. "But 
that is all over now." 

"I guess you miss the feeling that the fucking gave you," Marsha 
volunteered, "especially if it was good fucking." 

Peg blushed. 

"Yes, I do," she admitted. "Why don't you go out with some other guy?" the 
blonde asked. 

As she waited for an answer, she looked over the redhead's body again. This 
girl should have no trouble finding a guy to fuck her, she thought This girl 
was very sexy and cute. 

But Peg just shrugged her shoulders. 

"I don't know why I don't go out with some other guy," she said. "A couple 
of them have called me and everything. But I told them that I was busy. I 
think that I want to make sure that the next guy is at least as good as 
David before I fuck him. It would be a real bummer if I was stuck with some 
George Gleason type again. It would depress me more than being alone and 
unfucked." 

Marsha nodded her head. She understood. 

"Maybe I could fix you up with some guy," she said. "Maybe I could introduce 
you to some guy who has fucked me and fucked me well." 

She was already thinking of a candidate. Bob, her first and her best. He was 
game for anything and he would certainly go along with the plan that was 
forming in Marsha's blonde head. 

"Would you like for me to introduce you to some guy?" the blonde asked 
again. 

"I don't know," Peg muttered. "It would be nice and everything, but I would 
feel a little self-conscious knowing that this guy expected to fuck me and I 
expected to fuck him. I mean, it would be strange, wouldn't it?" 

Marsha tried to understand what the girl was talking about, but she really 
could not. She expected that Peg was just stalling out of fear. She knew 
that she never worried that some guy expected to fuck her. She liked that 
because then she could tease him a little bit before they really got down to 
the fucking. After a few months of hot sexual experience, the teen-ager 
liked to tease guys a lot. Sometimes, that was the main joy that she got out 
of fucking them. 

Then she suggested something else, something that worked right into her 
plan. 

"I know this guy," she said softly, "and you know him too. I can tell you 
that this stud is such a good fuck that he could take both of us on at the 
same time." 

Peg sat up with surprise. She realized what her friend was suggesting, but 
she did not want to admit it right away. 

"Both of us?" she asked. "No guy could do that, could he?" 

'This one could," Marsha said, thinking of Bob. It would be a thrill for him 
too, she thought. He would enjoy making it with two sexy girls at once. The 
blonde wondered if Bob had ever done that before, if he had ever seen two 
girls make it together before. For, that was going to be the final climax of 
the act; that was the way that Marsha had it all planned out. 

"I bet he can take us both on at the same time," Marsha said softly. "Of 
course, he only has one cock but he can keep it hard for hours and he can 
really make a girl squirm. I know that from experience." 

The blonde sat up too and looked into the redhead's eyes. 

"Come on. We can try it, can't we?" she coaxed. 

"Both of us?" Peg asked with a little smile. "At the same time? In the same 
bed? Both of us with him?" 

Marsha put her hand on Peg's soft red hair and purred playfully at her. 

"All three of us naked and yearning and fucking our brains out," she said, 
pursing her sexy lips. 

Peg could not resist that. She wanted this stud, and she also wanted some 
special kind of experience. She wanted to get her mind off David. 

"Okay," she chirped. "We will do it." 

"Good," Marsha said, grinning and showing her dimples as she took her hand 
away from Peg's face. She did not want to make the girl think that she had 
any designs on her body-not yet, at least. She understood that Peg would 
have to be led into this slowly. She understood that the waiting would make 
it better for her too. 

"I will call him," she said, jumping up. "You wait here and I will let you 
know what he says." 

"Who is this guy?" Peg asked. 

But Marsha decided to tease her new friend a little bit. 

"I am not going to tell you right away," she said. "I am going to let it be 
a surprise for you. But you know him and he is very handsome." 

Peg grinned and allowed her friend to play this little game. It added to the 
fun of the experience, she thought, and it made her even more eager for this 
thing to happen. 

As Marsha walked into her house, the redhead called after her. 

"Ask him if tonight is all right!" 

Marsha turned around and shook her body a little in a silly dance. 

"I am going to ask him if this afternoon is all right," she said. 

Peg giggled and lay down and waited for her friend to return to her. She 
hoped that the stud was free this afternoon. She wanted this to happen. Most 
of all, she wanted to forget about David, the man who had been so good. She 
trusted Marsha and she knew that the blonde was very experienced. If Marsha 
said that this guy was good, Peg knew that he must oe a very good fuck. She 
smiled to herself and let the sun beat down on her and warm her as her pussy 
started to leak excited juices. 

Marsha told Bob the truth on the phone. She. had always told him the truth 
about everything and she knew that she could trust him because he knew so 
much truth about so many people and she knew that he would not be shocked. 
She said that Peg wanted to join the two of them in bed and she added that 
she wanted to make it with Peg. 

"Have you ever done anything like that before, Marsha?" Bob asked on the 
other side of the connection. 

"No," she said, "but I think that it might be fun. And you can watch. Have 
you ever watched two girls make it together?" 

"No," Bob said, "but you are right. It would be fun." 

Then they made their plans. Bob's parents had a cabin on the hill outside 
town, and Bob could get the key from his father. He would just tell his 
father that he wanted to up to the cabin and relax for the afternoon. His 
father would figure that Bob was taking a girl up there, but his father did 
not care. Bob knew that his father was vaguely proud of his son's stud 
abilities. Then he would come over to Marsha's house and pick up both her 
and Peg. When they got to the cabin, they could all three romp and play and 
fuck in the wilderness of the woods. 

The plan sounded ideal to Marsha. She reminded Bob that he was not to 
mention anything to Peg about the two girls making it together for him. 

"It will just happen naturally," she said. 

"Naturally," he repeated and then he chuckled again. 

When she put down the phone, Marsha thought again of how good Bob was ir 
bed. He had graduated high school the year before, but he had not gone to 
college. In fact, Bob had not done anything except stay around the house and 
fuck girls all day and all night. Marsha knew that he was lazy, was no-good. 
But she also knew that, she enjoyed having him around. He was worthless in 
the ways of the world, but he was worth a great deal to her. 

She walked back out mto the yard and looked down at her redheaded friend. 

"He will be here to pick us.up in a few minutes," she said with a grin. 

"Should I change?" Peg asked. 

"Fuck no," Marsha told her with a grin. "You are going to have to take off 
your clothes anyway." 

Peg giggled with excitement. 

The two girls were standing in front of Marsha's house a few minutes later 
when Bob pulled up in his car. When she saw that it was Bob, Peg almost 
jumped up and down with delight She did know him and she thought that he was 
very good-looking. She wanted to hug her blonde friend for fixing her up 
with this sexy stud, but she tried to act mature abut the whole thing. She 
wanted to make sure that Bob and Marsha did not think that she was just a 
silly girl. 

The two girls got into his car and Bob started to drive for the cabin in the 
woods. 

As he drove, he looked at the two sexy things who sat in the front seat next 
to him. Marsha had let Peg sit in the middle of the front seat, and Bob 
liked that. He wanted to study her soft skin and her pert, little tits in 
that bikini. 

"Peg," he muttered, "I am going to enjoy this." 

He put his hand on her bare thigh and squeezed it. Peg closed her eyes for a 
second and sighed. 

"Yes," she said, "I am going to enjoy this too." 

Bob drove safely but quickly to the cabin. He pulled up behind the little, 
wooden house and got out of the car. The two bikinied girls got out with 
him. He stood in front of the car and put one arm around Marsha and the 
other around Peg. 

"Here we are, girls," he said with a chuckle, "wild and free in nature." 

Although it was something of a joke when it came from Bob's mouth, Peg knew 
that, in a special way, he was right. She felt very good out there in the 
woods with no one else around. She wanted to take off her bikini and run 
naked through the wilderness and feel like some kind of sweet, savage thing. 

Then she decided, why not? 

She moved out of Bob's clutch and quickly began to take off her bikini. 
Within seconds, she was standing there naked under the trees and she was 
laughing with a girlish glee. The girl looked so sexy that way that Marsha 
wanted to join her. She moved out of Bob's hold and took off her bikini too. 
Then she ran up to Peg and took the redhead's hand. 

The two girls held hands as they started to run around from tree to tree, 
making the rounds in the clearing behind the cabin. They both laughed, and 
Bob laughed too as he stood there and watched four tits jiggle with natural 
excitement as they ran and two pussies grow damp with feverish sexuality. 

Yes, he thought. They were very natural there in the woods. He was wearing a 
pair of cut-offs and he ran his hand over his stiffening cock as it grew in 
his crotch. He wanted to get naked too, but he stopped that longing in his 
system. It would be better, he decided to just watch them for a few moments. 
When they were tired and ready to fuck, then he would show them what he had 
for them. Marsha already knew, of course, but Peg did not know. He wanted to 
surprise her with the size of his cock and its strength. 

The girls made a couple of rounds and then stopped in front of Bob. They 
were out of breath from giggling and running and they both grinned at him. 

"Let's go inside," he said. 

Their grins told him that they would not disagree with him. They wanted to 
go inside too. They wanted to get this fucking on the road. In fact, Bob 
thought, Marsha must be particularly excited to get the fucking started. She 
and Bob knew what she had planned for Peg, and she was, no doubt, yearning 
for this new experience. Bob was yearning for it too, and he wondered how 
Marsha would go about getting Peg in her clutches. He wanted to study this 
girl-to-girl seduction. He wanted to see it happen in front of his eyes. 

Bob unlocked the back door of the cabin and then stepped aside like a true 
gentlemen so that the naked girls could enter the place first. As they went 
inside, he looked back and saw the two bikinis lying on the ground. He 
smiled. That is where they belonged, he thought. For some reason, he knew 
that the girls would be more comfortable naked in that cabin. 

The cabin just had one room. On one side of the room was a shelf that was 
used for storing books and liquor, mostly liquor. Bob's father often came to 
the cabin and got very drunk all by himself. Bob knew that his father did 
that when he could not longer stand to be around his mother. 

In the middle of the room was a big, soft bed. It was really the only piece 
of furniture in the room. Bob looked at the two naked girls who sat down on 
the edge of that bed and he found himself thinking of his father once again. 
Did his father bring women up here? Maybe he did. Bob could not really blame 
him if he fucked around on the side, but Bob also knew in his heart that his 
father was not the type to bring naked girls or women up to the cabin. For 
his father, this cabin was only meant for drinking. For Bob, this cabin was 
the perfect place to screw. 

And it had never seemed so perfect before. Now, as the young man looked at 
the two girls who were so willing, he thought about how lucky he was. He had 
so many willing women who made his life bearable. Sometimes, he thought that 
he would go away to college or at least get a job, but he knew that this was 
his true calling in life. This was what he was best at. He could fuck and 
fuck and fuck. Perhaps, he thought, he would find some wealthy gorgeous 
woman who would pay him to stay with her and fuck her. That was Bob's dream. 

But this was another of his dreams, two girls at once. And he knew that this 
dream was going to come true very soon. 

Marsha spoke out with glee. 

"We are ready, Bob," she said. "Get those shorts off and show this sexy, 
little redhead that cock." 

The blonde turned to Peg and assured her, "You will love his cock. It is so 
big and juicy." 

Peg looked again at Bob. "I am sure that I will," she said softly with a 
grin. 

Bob could not keep the redhead in suspense any longer. He opened his shorts 
and pushed them down his legs and stepped out of them. Then he pulled on his 
already stiff cock a couple of times to make sure that it would jut out from 
his body at just the right angle. 

When Peg saw that cock, she felt her pussy pulse with passion. 

"Wow!" she said. 

"Wait until that thing is in you, Peg," Marsha said softly. "He will give 
you a fucking that you will never forget." 

But the blonde was also thinking one other thing. She was thinking that she 
wanted to give this girl something else that she would never forget, her 
first experience with another woman. 

Marsha did not really consider herself a lesbian. She just liked to have 
fun, and she thought that this would be a fun, new thing to do. She wanted 
to fuck Bob and do whatever girls do together with Peg. She was still not 
quite sure what girls did together, but she knew that, if she followed the 
feminine voice that had been directing her for the past few months, she 
would not go wrong. 

Bob stepped toward the two girls who sat there on the edge of the bed and 
turned slightly, offering his cock silently to the redhead. 

Peg lifted her little hand and touched the prick with a light flick, Then 
she became more courageous and she wrapped her fingers around the cock and 
closed her eyes and let the emotion that that cock gave her go through her 
body like a lightning bolt. She had touched other cocks before, of course, 
and she had gotten to know David's cock pretty well. But this one was 
different, she thought. This one seemed to pulse with the energy of life 
itself. This was a great cock, a truly great one. She moved her hand back 
and forth, feeling the rod grow taut with lust as the skin moved in her 
hand. 

Then she quickly took her hand away from 

Bob's piece and turned to her friend. 

"His prick is wonderful," she muttered as she felt the juices flow out of 
her pussy and onto the sheet on the bed. 

"Yes," Marsha said, looking deep into the redhead's eyes. "I told you that 
it was great, didn't I?" 

"Thank you, Marsha," the girl said with her voice breathy with lust. She 
seemed to be filled with lust at that moment and she wondered where the lust 
was directed. She just seemed to feel the vague need to do everything at 
once. The passion swept over her like the sun's rays when she sunbathed with 
the blonde. 

Peg was suddenly a little nervous looking at Marsha and turned and looked at 
Bob again. 

"Thanjc you too," she said. 

"Thank you," he said, lifting his eyebrows. 

Marsha put her arm around her redheaded friend. 

'Why don't you suck on it?" she asked softly. "It tastes good too." 

Peg touched Bob's thigh and he moved closer to her as she spread her legs 
and let him stand between them. When he did that his prick was right in 
front of the redhead's face. She kissed the tip of the prick and then she 
lifted the rod slightly and ran her tongue down the underside of the cock. 
The masculine flesh was sweet to. her wild and girlish tongue. She worked 
her way up the cock again and licked the tip of it. She tasted the fluid 
that was there. 

David had taught Peg how to suck his cock, and the little redhead was 
anxious now to find out if what had worked with her old boyfriend would work 
with Bob. She figured that, if he liked this sucking, she would know that 
she would never have to worry about pleasing a man. 

She stuck out her tongue again and ran the quick thing around the head of 
the cock very slowly. She felt the prick jerk as she held it and she knew 
that she was doing something right, for David's member had always jerked 
when she did that too. 

She opened her mouth and took the tip of the prick into her. David had 
always taught her that the prick was the most sensitive at its head, at its 
opening. All of this stuff about deep-throating, he said, was nothing much. 
If a girl knew how to make the head of the cock respond to her, she did not 
have to worry about any other part of that thing. 

Peg sucked on the head of the cock just as David had told her to suck on it, 
with quick sucks and intakes of breath. Then she pulled her mouth off the 
cock and blew on it with a soft rush of air. 

"Wow!" Bob yelled. 

In his mind, he remembered how Marsha had used her breath to thrill him that 
first night that they had fucked. She had blown some air into his navel and 
that had been great. This was just as good, maybe even better, he thought. 
This girl was playing his cock as if it were some kind of musical 
instrument. 

And she was making him feel great. 

When Peg saw his reaction, she knew that she was doing things correctly. She 
knew that what had worked with David worked with this stud too and it would 
probably work with other men, all of the men in her life. She felt strangely 
relieved when she discovered that and, in her relief, she opened her mouth 
wide and shoved Bob's whole prick into her. She closed her mouth tightly 
around the base of that cock and she felt him expand in there. She knew that 
her mouth was warm and that that warmth would make him grow larger and more 
excited after the chill that she had given his wet cockhead with her breath. 

Marsha watched all of this with pleasure. She was surprised that her friend 
knew so mucli about sex, sucked a cock with such expert ease. But that made 
the blonde happier too. If Peg was this experienced, she thought, then she 
would not think that much about another girl. She would be adventurous, as 
adventurous as Marsha was at that moment. 

Marsha put her arm around the naked redhead who sat there on the bed next to 
her and whispered in her ear. Her lips were close to Peg's head at that 
moment and the blonde almost wanted to kiss the girl who had sucked the cock 
so well. But she did not kiss her. She just spoke to her with a soft, 
purring voice. 

"I think he is ready now. He will probably want to fuck you first." 

When Peg heard her friend's words, she understood the real meaning of what 
Marsha was saying. The blonde was giving up her chance to feel that cock in 
her pussy first because she wanted to give her friend a special, little 
present. Peg took her mouth off the cock id looked at the blonde. She had 
never felt grateful to anyone before in her life. She almost cried with the 
thanks that she felt in r heart for this pretty, sexy teen-ager. Marsha 
moved away from her and looked up Bob. 

"Fuck her," she said. "She is the new girl, is it going to be her 
afternoon." "All right," Bob said. 

He moved back on the soft, big bed and lay re and waited for Bob to come to 
her. She did not have to wait long, Bob crawled onto the bed carefully with 
his cock hard and jutting from his body. He lay down on his side, next to 
Peg and took the redhead in his arms and kissed her. 

Marsha watched this action and smiled at him. She knew that this was his 
favorite position, the side-by-side position, and she knew that Peg would 
like it too. It gave the girl the most freedom to use the muscles in her 
pussy in order to hold the cock into her. 

Marsha knew that this was one of her favorite positions. 

She was happy that she had given up her spot with Bob to the redhead, for, 
as the cock slid into Peg's open, yearning cunt, the blonde saw that her 
friend was already getting into the fucking. Peg closed her eyes and sighed 
and moved against Bob with her leg thrown over the side of his naked body. 
She kissed the young man's face and she held him close to her. 

This girl, Marsha thought, loved sex just as much as the blonde did. This 
girl enjoyed a good fucking and she knew that Peg would be even more open to 
a girl-to-girl love feast after she had had this cock in her, giving her 
pleasure and reminding her of how good sex could be. 

Marsha knew that sex with Bob could be very good indeed. 

As Bob and Peg moved together there on the bed, Marsha yearned to join them. 
She moved across the bed and reached out and touched them. They were already 
sweating with delighted work, and she ran her fingers from Bob's hard 
muscles to Peg's softer body. Seeing them fused together in that way, Marsha 
began to think of Bob and Peg as one entity, one person that squirmed there 
on the bed with passion in its heart and the blonde fantasized about what it 
would be like to fuck this Bob-Peg creature. The cock and the pussy were 
busy, but Marsha thought that it would be so nice to have the hands of 
Bob-Peg covering her body and touching her and squeezing her. It would be so 
nice to have the Bob-Peg mouths moving over her and kissing her. 

Then Marsha looked down at the feet. As Bob and Peg moved together and 
fucked, their feet moved too and the Bob-Peg feet looked very exciting to 
the blonde. She reached down and caught one of those feet, one of the male 
feet, and kissed it and then she sucked on the male toes. She heard the male 
part of Bob-Peg moan when she did that and she knew that she was adding to 
the creature's passionate intensity. She let one of the male feet go and 
grabbed a female foot It was soft and it had little freckles. She kissed one 
of those freckles. The female part of Bob-Peg was already moaning with 
passion, but Marsha sensed that she heard an extra little gasp when she 
kissed the freckled foot. She opened her mouth and sucked one of the female 
toes into her and tasted the sweetness there. This foot had been bare on the 
grass and it tasted fresh like the springtime, like the grass and the forest 
that surrounded them there in that cabin. 

Then Marsha let Bob-Peg go and sat up on the bed and watched the creature 
move and squirm on the bed. The Bob-Peg mouths were kissing and the Bob cock 
was ramming deeper and deeper into the Peg pussy and everything seemed to 
move like Wonderful machinery. The movements got quicker and quicker, like a 
train, Peg thought, a train that was pulling out of a station, and she knew 
that this train was ready to move on down the track. 

The Bob-Peg train summoned up more speed and more sighs and more gasps of 
lust, and then Marsha knew that they were ready to leave the station behind. 

"Pull out," she said. "Pull out." 

And Bob did. He yanked his cock out of the pussy and he rolled over on his 
back. Both Peg and Marsha were quickly on top of that cock and they both 
grabbed it and yanked on it until it started to shoot. Marsha thought of 
that stuff that spurted from the head of the prick as the oil that made the 
machine, the 

Bob-Peg machine, work with ease. 

Both girls moved their faces over the cock and caught some of that oil on 
their skin and on their lips and in their mouths as the young man came and 
greased them and oiled them so that they would run smoothly too. 

Marsha's face was close to Peg's and she looked at the bits of white come on 
the redhead's freckled face and she yearned for her. She yearned to create a 
new creature, a new, well-oiled machine, a Peg-Marsha. And she knew that it 
was time to do just that. Bob would not feel like fucking for a few minutes 
after his orgasm. 

The blonde knew that the come was on her face too just as it was on Peg's. 
She stuck out her tongue and ran it over her lips and tasted the semen and 
she saw Peg do the same thing. Then the girls smiled at each other and the 
heat of passion in the room started to grow with a mindless fury again. The 
Marsha-Peg creature came together as the two girls kissed each other and 
tasted the remnants of Bob's orgasm in each other's mouths. 

It was so easy, Marsha thought, as she pulled the smaller redhead across 
Bob's body and lay back with Peg coming into her arms. It was so easy to get 
the girl to do this. Then she knew that Peg had wanted this experience too, 
just as much as she did. She knew that Peg had yearned for her body and her 
kisses, even though the redhead might not have been able to define that 
yearning in her lusty spirit. 

Marsha lay on her back in the bed and Peg moved on top of "her and the 
kissing continued, the well-oiled, wonderful Marsha-Peg machine started to 
run. 

Marsha lifted her legs and put them around Peg's body and the kissing, the 
hot and excited kissing, continued. Peg licked Bob's come from Marsha' wet 
and feverish brow and then licked the woman's lips, ran her tongue around 
those lips as if she were trying to suck up some wonderful kind of juice 
that would give her eternal life, eternal lust. 

Their pussies moved together with little smacks. Both cunts were wet, wet 
and hot and yearning for each other and the clits were bold and hardening. 
Marsha could feel Peg's clit against her own and those clits started a 
lustful little battle, like two gentlemen fencing, dueling for honor. 

It had been so easy, Marsha thought again, so mindless and so sensitive and 
so real. 

Bob watched the two girls together and realized that he was a very lucky 
young man. He lay on the bed and began to move his hand over his cock as she 
watched the two girls kiss each other and hump each other. He smelled the 
sweet aroma that came from their cunts, the aroma that filled the room with 
a powerful scent of lust. He looked at the way that Peg's tits seemed to 
sink into Marsha's bigger breasts and he knew that these two young sex-pots 
would give him hours and days and months and, he hoped, years of pleasure in 
the future. He wished that this show could continue forever and he wished 
that the two girls would hump each other like that for all of eternity. 

But then something strange happened. 

Peg gasped and moved out of Marsha's hold on her and quickly crawled to the 
other side of the bed. He sat there shivering and gasping with nervous 
tension. She started to cry. 

"What is wrong?" Marsha asked, moving toward the redhead. 

But Peg pulled away from the blonde and cried out in anguish, "You are a 
girl and I am a girl!" 

Marsha was stunned by Peg's sudden change. She had been so willing and so 
lusty for so long. Certainly, Marsha thought, the girl could not have just 
realized that she was kissing arid humping another girl. 

But Marsha tried to be calm and speak softly to Peg. She did not want to 
upset the redhead any more than she was already and she wanted to make sure 
that this special lust that she felt for Peg would continue. 

"What is wrong, Peg?" she asked again. 

"You're a girl!" the redhead sobbed. "So?" 

The smaller sex-pot pointed to the naked young man who sat there on the bed 
with them. 

"He saw!" she yelled. "He saw us do that together!" 

'f "So?" Marsha asked again. She turned to Bob. "Did you mind, Bob? Did you 
mind see us doing that?" 

"Fuck, no," the young man said. "I liked it." 

"Did you think that Peg was sick or perverted or something like that because 
she and I-" 

"Fuck, no," Bob said, interrupting her. "I think that you are both great 
girls. You aren't dykes or anything like that. You just like sex and fucking 
and stuff like that." 

Marsha turned to Peg again. 

"See?" she said. "He did not mind watching us. He liked watching us. Guys 
like to watch girls make it when the girls are sexy and when they knew that 
they will have a chance to fuck those girls." 

But the blonde's calm words did not mean anything to Peg. She continued to 
shiver and weep and moan as if she had just lost something of importance, 
great importance to her. 

"Didn't you like it, Peg?" Marsha asked. 

The girl yelled again. 

"You are a fucking girl!" 

Suddenly, Marsha was very angry with this little redhead. Peg was not making 
any sense at all, she thought. She had liked it, Marsha knew, and she had 
probably yearned for it for weeks-maybe even years. There was nothing sick 
about it, the blonde thought. It was just something new and different, 
something to make her feel alive and good again. She had been enjoying this 
little girl-to-girl play, but this bitch had ruined it for her. This little 
redhead had taken away the thing that Marsha had most looked forward too. 

"You fucking bitch," Marsha snarled, "you know you liked it With me." 

"No!" Peg cried! "You are a girl and I am a girl!" 

Why did she protest? Why did she deny what was obviously in her heart and in 
her pussy? Marsha wanted to knock some sense into the girl. She moved toward 
the cowering Peg and raised her hand. 

"Listen to your body and do what it tells you to do!" she yelled. "Listen to 
your cunt! Your cunt is real and it has not been fucked up by some stupid 
morality!" 

And then she slapped the little redhead with a furious blow. 

"Fucking bitch!" the blonde cried again and slapped her again. 

"No," Peg whimpered. "Stupid little slut!" 

There was another slap, but this one went across Peg's tits. 

The redhead was crying and the blonde was hitting her and Bob did not know 
what to do. He had not planned on something like this when he had brought 
them to this cabin. He did not know if he should stop Marsha or not. He was 
angry with Peg too, for he had been enjoying the show that the two girls 
were putting on for him, but he hated to see the girl hurt just because she 
had suddenly had second thoughts. 

"No," Peg whimpered again, but she held her hands on her side now. She did 
not try to protect herself from her friend's slaps. "Yes!" Peg cried. "Beat 
the shit out of me, Marsha! Beat the fucking shit out of me! I am a no-good, 
little whore!" 

When Marsha heard those cries, she suddenly wanted to weep too. She wanted 
to weep and take the redhead in her arms and tell her that she understood, 
but she could not be kind to the girl now. She needed to beat the girl as 
much as Peg needed the beating. With every blow that she gave the little 
redhead, her pussy burst with more passionate flame. She was finding out 
something very important about herself at this moment. She was finding out 
that she enjoyed giving this girl pain. 

Bob watched them work together with his mouth open in shock. He had never 
seen anything like this before. 

And he listened to their cries without understanding the reason for them, as 
if the two girls were crying out in some foreign language, some strange 
language that expressed strange desires. He only knew that he was not 
supposed to stop Marsha now. He knew that the redhead wanted this action as 
much as the blonde did. 

As the blows fell again and again, he watched the two of them and listened 
to the words that they used in speaking to each other. The words did not 
make sense at all. 

"Marsha, beat the fucking shit of me!" 

"You little slut, you liked it didn't you?" 

"Yes! Hit me again, Marsha!" 

"You mangy little whore!" 

"Yes! Slap the crap out of me!" 

Then Marsha suddenly stopped hitting the girl and smiled at her. Through her 
tears of pain, Peg smiled back at the blonde. She had discovered something 
about herself too. She had discovered just how good pain can be when it 
comes from another sexy girl. 

Marsha lay back on the bed and ran her fingers through her own, 
light-colored pussy hair. She smiled at the redhead who sniffed there in the 
corner of the bed. 

"Eat my pussy, you little whore," she said softly. "You know that you want 
to suck my clit and lick my cunt. So do it." 

Peg sniffed her tears one last time and lay down with her head between 
Marsha's sexy legs. She put her hands on the blonde's thighs and she kissed 
the inside of those legs with hot passion. Then she moved her tongue up to 
the hole, the sweet hole that held Marsha's best juices and she buried her 
face in the blonde's pussy hair and ran that tongue into that sweet hole. 

"Mangy whore," Marsha gasped, but, as she said those words, she reached down 
and played with her friend's red hair. 

The blonde looked at Bob with eyes like looked sleepy with satisfaction. 

"When we are through here, I will hit her some more and then we will both 
fuck you," she promised the young man. 

The perplexed Bob did not understand this scene at all. Did the two girls 
love each other or hate each other? Did Marsha love giving the girl pain? 
Did Peg love receiving it? 

Bob had never seen anything like this before, but he did not try to stop it. 
He knew that he could not stop the sex and the lust that flowed between 
these two girls, and he knew that at least most of it turned him on. He 
watched Peg now and heard the slurping of the redhead's tongue in Marsha's 
cunt and he knew that he did not want to stop this kind of exciting show. 

Marsha lay there and rubbed Peg's red hair and felt a new emotion run 
through her. She remembered Mrs. Fletcher, the woman that she had wanted to 
hurt when she first saw her with Bob, the woman who was also so sexy that 
Marsha could not really blame her Bob when she thought that he had fucked 
her. 

It was that confusion of desires, that confusion of hungers that made her 
dizzy with lust, for now both of the hungers had been taken care of. She had 
slapped Peg and now Peg was eating out her cunt. 

Marsha did not really understand it, but she knew that this was the most 
secret part of her sexual world, that this was the thing that she had most 
wanted for all of these months. She had stumbled upon it almost by accident, 
but now she would know that she would want it again and again. 

As Peg licked her cunt and then ran her tongue over Marsha's aching clit, 
the blonde wondered how many other females there were in the world who, like 
Peg, wanted to be hurt and cursed. She remembered the story that 

Bob had told her about Mrs. Fletcher, how the woman like to sit naked on the 
floor while Bob cursed her. Marsha knew that she would be calling on Mrs. 
Fletcher very soon. She would give that sexy housewife what she needed and 
even more, more than Mrs. Fletcher had ever dreamed of at night. 

Yes, Marsha thought, it was the night that did it to her. She looked out the 
window of the cabin and saw the sun going down as Peg started to suck on her 
clit. Marsha gasped and knew that she would be coming very soon. 

And she knew that she would come many more times with these strange desires 
mixing in her body. 

This was her real night-time desire, she thought. 

And people get very strange at night, very strange and very exciting. 

She smiled and lifted her legs and put them over Peg's freckled shoulders 
and waited for the wonderful, new orgasm to sweep through her young body. 
She knew that it would be there at any second. 

TEACHER, TEACHER, SUCK MY CLIT! 

The beautiful, dark-haired woman hung from the ceiling with the chains tight 
around her wrists. She was naked, of course. She was in the presence of her 
love. 

Marsha hurled the lash of the whip at the woman's bare back and listened to 
the lovely crack as the whip sank deep into Donna's flesh. 

"Yes," the hanging woman muttered. "Yes. 

Again." 

Marsha tossed another bit of pain her way and Donna felt the shock move 
through her blood and make her cunt juices flow. 

Marsha was nineteen years old by then, and she had been knocking women 
around in her spare time since she was sixteen. But she had only recently 
met Donna and this woman had added a new dimension to the sexual sport of 
punishment. Donna was a very wealthy, young woman, and she had stocked her 
big house with whips and chains and other devices that she begged Marsha to 
use on her. 

Marsha was more than happy to oblige the sexy female. 

The strange thing was this: Donna was only twenty years old herself. Marsha 
knew the story of her life. They had been lovers for two weeks, and Donna 
had told the woman with the whip everything. 

Donna was an orphan. 

Her father had been a banker and her mother had been one of the leading 
socialites in this college town, but they had both been killed when their 
private plane crashed in the Rocky Mountains. That had been the year before. 
Donna felt guilty about her parents' deaths, strangely responsible because, 
when she received the word that they were dead, she was in bed with a 
little, fifteen-year-old sexpot with big tits. 

Donna had kicked that girl out of her bed and out of her life when she heard 
that her mother and her father were dead. She had fired her servants and she 
had continued to live the big house alone. She had bought all of the 
punishment equipment six months later, but it was not until she met Marsha 
that she found a woman who was willing to use the whips on her. 

When Donna discovered that Marsha enjoyed giving pain to other women, she 
fell immediately in love with the sexy blonde. Marsha seemed to be angel 
sent from heaven to help Donna relieve herself of her guilt. 

When Marsha first whipped Donna, the blonde had felt a great deal of 
satisfaction after that action. She had felt that she had done something 
inherently good in the world, and she also knew that that whip made Donna 
love her even more. 

It made her feel good. 

After this whipping, Marsha gently lowered Donna to the floor and then 
loosened the bonds on her wrists. Donna lay there, bloody and happy, and 
looked up at the blonde. 

"I love it," she said, "and I love you too." 

She pulled the blonde to her and kissed her gently on the lips. Then she 
closed her eyes. Donna always liked to rest a bit after her ordeal. Marsha 
turned her over and moved across the room to get the salve. When she rubbed 
that ointment on the cuts, the cuts that she had put on her lover's back, 
she felt Donna jerk a little bit and mutter to herself. She knew that the 
dark-haired girl was happy. 

Marsha soothed Donna with the ointment and the massage that she gave the 
dark-haired girl, and she thought about her English teacher. 

Marsha majored in English because she had always liked to read, and she was 
not really interested in studying for a career. The blonde already knew that 
she wanted to move to a big city when she graduated and become professional 
dominatrix. She knew that that was where the money and the lust was, and she 
wanted a job that she would enjoy. She was only in college because she knew 
that some wealthy clients like their girls to act as if they were 
intelligent and well-read. And, anyway, Marsha thought, college was nice. 
She had met Donna in college. 

She had also met a lot of guys that she fucked. Yes, she still fucked guys, 
but the fucking had become a secondary pleasure for her. It had been that 
for years, since she had discovered how much she enjoyed giving pain to 
women. 

And she had met someone else in college too. She had met Nancy Malone, the 
young and sexy English instructor. Marsha had taken her first English class 
the year before from Nancy Malone, and she had made an A in that class, but, 
mostly, she had watched her teacher and wanted to beat her and make her 
come. There was something in the way that Nancy Malone moved that told her 
that that blonde-a woman with hair as blonde as Marsha's-would love being 
punished for untold sins by a sexy, young girl. 

Nancy Malone was divorced and lived alone in an apartment near the campus. 
She spent most of her time reading and preparing for the classes that she 
taught. Marsha knew that she rarely went out with any of the men in the 
town, and she could not say that she blamed Nancy for that. Most of the men 
in that town were college professors and they were all generally worthless 
as men. They were bland, little book-worms and Nancy Malone, Marsha thought, 
deserved better than that. 

She deserved a good whipping from a young, sexy blonde. 

For more than a year, the girl had tried to think of some way to bring the 
subject up with Nancy Malone, some way to read the woman's mind and make her 
know that she yearned for her scholarly cunt. 

But she had not been able to think of any way to get Nancy Malone to submit. 
She had talked to Nancy many times in her office and they had become good 
friends. Marsha took as many classes from Nancy as possible, but she had 
been at a loss to find out about the teacher's secret desires until 
recently-when she met Donna. 

Donna was in one of Nancy's classes, in the same class that Marsha was in. 
She was not really a student, Marsha discovered. She had just come out to 
the college in an attempt to get back into society, to get used to being 
around people after her parents had been dead for several months. But, from 
Donna, Marsha learned one thing that was very important to her: 

Donna and Nancy were in the same therapy group. 

Obviously, Marsha thought, Nancy had some secret desires that she was not 
comfortable with and she understood that others had such desires too. 
Obviously, Marsha thought, Nancy Malone needed something out of life, and 
Marsha sensed that she needed some punishment. 

For days, Marsha had been trying to convince Donna to tell her about what 
Nancy Malone said in the therapy sessions. She asked the dark-haired girl to 
tell her while she beat her and she asked the dark-haired girl to tell her 
while they made love after the beatings, but Donna was adamant She was not 
supposed to reveal anything that was said in those therapy sessions. 

But, lately, Marsha thought, Donna had been weakening. She knew that it was 
only a matter of time and beatings until the dark-haired, wealthy, 
guilt-stricken girl opened up and told her everything that she wanted to 
know about the teacher. 

It was only a matter of time and of beatings. When she felt that Donna was 
asleep, Marsha stopped rubbing her back and stood up and walked out of the 
torture room into the bedroom that adjoined it. 

She lay down on the bed and spread her legs and moved her fingers to her 
pussy. She closed her eyes as she played with her throbbing clit and 
thought, not of Donna, the girl who was her lover, but of Nancy, the woman 
that she wanted to subdue in a special lustful way. 

What did Marsha want? 

She thought about that as she fingered her own clit, and she came up with 
the vision that often came to her when she masturbated. 

She wanted Nancy Malone to take off her glasses and walk naked toward that 
bed. In her mind, she tried to capture the image of the lustful Nancy again 
and it came easily. It had been one of her favorites for months. She watched 
as Nancy Malone took off her glasses and lay them on a table. She moved 
slowly to the bed. She was naked and her tits were small and firm. Her pussy 
hair was light in color but it was very thick and bushy. The aroma that came 
from Nancy's body was the like the aroma that came from the sea on a spring 
day. 

Nancy Malone sat down on the edge of the bed and ran her hand over Marsha's 
sexy body and smiled at her. Then she spoke softly and told the girl what 
she desired. 

"Please, torture me, you sexy thing. I will accept torture from no other 
person than you. I will accept love from no other person. You are the only 
one in the world." 

And, then, as if to prove her words and seal a special bargain that she was 
making with the girl, she leaned forward and kissed Marsha on the lips. The 
kiss was wet and soft and quick but it sent spasms through the young girl's 
body as no other kiss had ever done. Nancy Malone was soft and yearning and 
wanted to be whipped. 

Then the scene changed in Marsha's head and Nancy Malone was standing in a 
field of tall, green grass. She was still naked and she turned her back to 
Marsha and the girl could see her body tense as she waited for the first 
blow to fall upon her skin. 

"Do it," she said softly with her back still turned to the young girl. "I 
need it so badly-from you-do it and make me feel good." 

And the whip moved like a feather in the girl's hand. She lashed the 
teacher's back with no effort at all. She cut into Nancy Malone's soft, 
white skin and she saw the body jerk as Nancy stood there and tried to stand 
rigid under the blows that she was receiving from the young girl who loved 
her. She lashed her again and again and the crack of the whip sounded so 
naturally there. It sounded like the song of a bird, a strange bird that 
flew down from paradise to sing to these two lovers because they had pleased 
the heavens with their pain and their passion. 

And then the blood came to Nancy Malone's back. It came in trickles that 
turned into a mighty rush, like a flood of blood. The blood fell like a 
sheet of rain down onto the green grass as Nancy continued to stand there 
and Marsha continued to whip her. The blood flowed over the landscape, over 
the grass and turned it all red, red like fire, and, soon, as far as Marsha 
could see, the grass was red with Nancy Malone's loving, hot blood, with the 
blood that never stopped flowing, with the blood that never stopped beating 
from her body. 

And that blood was so hot that a steam began to rise in that green field as 
Nancy 

Malone spoke to her favorite student. 

"I love you, Marsha," the teacher said in the girl's fantasy. 

And then Marsha dropped the whip and moved toward the teacher as the steam 
rose up from the bloody grass and made everything so hot and so close that, 
for a moment, the girl thought that the world was coming to an end. And she 
did not care if it came to an end. Let the Apocalypse come, she wanted to 
shout to those blood-filled heavens, if I can share this passion with this 
women in the last moments of the world! 

But Marsha said nothing. He just moved to her lover and fell to her knees in 
the bloody, tall grass and stuck out her tongue and licked the gallons of 
blood from Nancy Malone's flesh. The blood tasted that good too. It 
surrounded her and it found her good. She realized that, and she let the 
blood from Nancy's back flow over her own body as she continued to lick it 
and drink it down with passion. She was thirsty for the teacher's blood. It 
tasted to her like the sweet cunt juice. 

In her fantasy, the scene changed again. It always changed this way. As she 
drank on the blood, she was suddenly back in a bedroom and Nancy Malone was 
lying on the bed and the blood that tasted like sweet cunt juice was 
actually cunt juice. Marsha was tasting Nancy Malone's pussy, was licking it 
and loving it. Then she put her mouth on the woman's clit and her mind 
seemed to explode as that sweetness came to her in a mighty rush of passion. 
She felt Nancy Malone move her legs over her shoulders and she felt Nancy 
Malone run her fingers through her hair and she felt Nancy Malone come with 
a wonderful sexual force that only a real woman could have, that only a real 
woman could bring out in another female. 

And then, as Nancy Malone came in her fantasy, Marsha came too. She came 
jerking on the bed and gasping for air and thinking of the blood-drenched 
grass and the sweet juice that flowed from the pussy, the juice that tasted 
like blood, the blood that tasted like cunt-juice. Everything came together 
in Marsha's heated brain and the orgasm moved through her like a sudden shot 
of new blood in her system. 

Then she relaxed on the bed and rested there and waited for Donna to wake 
and come to her. 

She wanted Donna with her because she wanted to again try to get the 
dark-haired girl to talk about Nancy Malone's wonderful secrets. What did 
Nancy Malone think about in the darkness of the night? Marsha wanted to know 
so that she could work her own way into those thoughts that came to the 
teacher in the darkness, in the soft and comforting and secure darkness. 

In a few minutes, Donna was standing at the door. She grinned almost 
sheepishly to the naked girl who lay on her bed. 

"You were especially good tonight," she said. "You seemed to swing that whip 
with so much heat in your body that I loved every minute of it." 

"You caused the heat in my body," Marsha murmured with an inviting smile on 
her lips. "You caused the heat and I loved every minute of it too. 

Marsha lifted her arms and beckoned the dark-haired girl to the bed with a 
sexy smile. 

And Donna came to her and lay with her, lay in Marsha's arms, the arms that 
had worked the whip that had cut into her body. The two girls kissed with an 
easy and relaxed lust and their tongues moved from one mouth to the other. 

"This night was so good," Donna said again when that kiss was over. "It was 
very special. I feel that I owe you something special for it." 

Then the dark-haired, wealthy girl looked into her blonde lover's eyes. 

"Tell me," she said softly. "Tell me what I can do to repay you for what you 
gave me tonight and I will do it. I will do anything." 

Marsha smiled. She knew what she wanted. 

"Tell me what Nancy Malone says in those therapy sessions," she murmured. 

"Marsha," the girl whined. 

"You promised that you would do anything that I asked you to do. This is 
what I am asking you to do, Donna." 

Then, just to show that she was not going to be that cruel, Marsha gave the 
dark-haired, sexy, naked girl a kiss on the lips, a quick kiss, a loving 
kiss. 

"All right?" she asked. 

"All right," Donna muttered. 

The wealthy victim lay in her lover's arms and spoke softly, feeling that 
she had to because she had promised but knowing that she was breaking the 
rules of her group, the rules that had been set down by the psychologist who 
ran the sessions. She would have to be punished for breaking those rules 
later on, Donna knew, and she knew that Marsha would be the one to punish 
her. Everything in her life seemed to revolve around the blonde girl who 
gave her so much pain and love at the same time. She spoke softly, but 
Marsha heard every word, hung on every word as if those words could give her 
a new life. 

"After Nancy Malone divorced her husband three years ago, he killed 
himself," Donna said. 

"He was a weak little guy who had once planned on being a minister but he 
lost his faith in God or something. He claimed that Nancy had taken his 
faith away from him because she did not believe in God. Anyway, two days 
after she left him because she was fed up with his weakness and his whining, 
two days after she moved out of their apartment into the apartment that she 
had rented for herself, he called her up at the English office and told her 
that he was going to kill himself. Nancy says that he had made threats like 
that before, and she did not believe these threats at all. She laughed at 
him and told him that he should go ahead and do it. She said that she and 
the whole world would be better off if he were dead. Then she heard the shot 
and she heard a thud, the sound of his body falling on the floor. She 
started to scream and then she went with a friend to his apartment--the one 
that had been their apartment until two days before-and she found him dead 
on the floor." 

Donna felt sad as she told the story. She felt sorry for Nancy Malone, who 
had to carry such guilt around with her. It was an even greater guilt than 
she felt. At least, the dark-haired girl thought, she had not told her 
father to go ahead and crash his fucking plane and kill himself and her 
mother. 

"She never really got over it," Donna said, completing her story, her 
betrayal of Nancy Malone and the group, "although most of the people she 
works with think that she did. She took a few weeks off from the college and 
she cried and cried and cried, and then she came back to work and she did 
not cry any longer. But she still carries the guilt in her, the terrible 
guilt that she feels because she laughed at her weak husband." 

"Did she love him?" Marsha asked. 

"I think so," the girl told her. "In a weird way, I think she loved him a 
great deal, but he was just too weak and too spineless for her. You know 
Nancy Malone. She is a very strong woman and she deserves an equally strong 
man." 

-Or woman, Marsha thought. But she did not say anything. She did not want to 
make Donna suspicious or jealous, not just yet. 

When Donna finished her story, she looked up at the blonde girl who seemed 
to be lost in thought there on the bed. 

"Marsha," she said, "you must punish me for this. I have betrayed the group 
and Nancy Malone." 

"I will punish you tomorrow for this," she said. "That way, you will not 
have to carry the guilt around with you." 

"Thank you, Marsha," the beautiful girl said. 

Marsha looked at Donna's full, red lips. 

They were quivering now with passion for the blonde. Donna wanted to be 
kissed, and, looking at her lover, Marsha wanted to kiss her. 

"Now," she said with a grin, "Let's make love." 

She kissed Donna's red mouth with passion and pushed the girl back on the 
bed. When Donna's back hit the sheet, the dark-haired girl made a little 
gasp. Her back was still hurting her, but Marsha knew that Donna liked to 
have a little pain mixed with her pleasure as she liked giving her 
girlfriend both. 

She ran her hands over Donna's firm tits and then moved down the wealthy 
girl's body and kissed her soft skin and ran her tongue around one of those 
pink nipples. When the nipple began to harden under the touch of her tongue, 
Marsha took that pinkness into her mouth and sucked on it with delight. 

Donna moaned to her lover. 

'Yes," she said, "Love me. Love me just like you beat me. Love me. I love 
you. I love everything that you do to me." 

When she heard those words, Marsha had to feel a little guilty. Her 
dark-haired, sexy girlfriend was declaring her love to her, and she felt a 
certain kind of love for Donna too. 

But, even as she sucked Donna's juicy tit, she was thinking of Nancy Malone 
and forming in her head the plan-the action that would make Marsha happy and 
would free Nancy of her guilt. 

That action would involve punishment, but it would also involve love. 

Marsha kissed Donna's nipple with her warm, soft mouth, and let the plans 
form in her pretty head. 

 PART TWO 

The next day, Marsha threatened Donna with the ultimate. She told the sexy, 
wealthy young girl that she would never beat her or love her again if she 
did not help in getting Nancy Malone. Donna knew that Marsha meant it too. 
The sexy blonde would fuck men and find other girls to make love to. She did 
not need Donna as badly as the guilt-ridden girl needed her. So she quickly 
agreed. She needed to be beaten and tortured. She did so many bad things 
every day that she had to feel the whip on her in order to feel free. 

Donna did not really like the idea of sharing Marsha with Nancy, but she 
figured that she would have to, and, even sharing the blonde was better than 
not having her at all, the dark-haired girl thought 

So, when Marsha laid out her plan to the wealthy girl, Donna listened 
carefully. She would have to follow it and not make any mistakes. That way, 
she thought, she would prove to Marsha that she loved her. 

The plan began to work on the afternoon that Nancy Malone came over to have 
coffee with Donna. The dark-haired girl had invited the teacher over to talk 
about little things, just to visit. While they talked, Marsha stood in the 
next room and listened to the conversation and waited, for the first chance 
that she had to make her move. 

"You know," Donna said, "I think that the group therapy sessions help me a 
lot. I do not feel as lonely now as I used to. I used to think that I was 
the only person in the world who felt such guilt." 

"Yes," Nancy said softly, "I used to feel the same way." 

Donna knew what direction the conversation was supposed to take. Marsha had 
briefed her on that. 

"What do you do, Nancy," Donna asked, "to get rid of the guilt that you 
feel?" 

The blonde teacher looked into the eyes of the dark-haired girl. 

"I don't do anything," she said truthfully. "I talk about it a little bit in 
the group and that helps. But I still carry a lot of the guilt around with 
me. I don't know if I will ever be able to get rid of it." 

"Your husband still haunts you then?" 

Nancy sat the coffee cup down and relieved herself of some of her spiritual 
burdens. 

"Every night, I still dream about him. I had thought that the group would 
get rid of those dreams, but it has not really helped that much. I am able 
to function during the day but I dread going to bed at night. I dream about 
him and he comes to me with his head all bloody and he tells me that I 
laughed at him, tljat I caused it all. I just wish that there was some way 
that I could repay him, that I could get all of the suffering out of me." 

"I don't mean to ask personal questions, Nancy," the dark-haired girl 
apologized. 

"That is all right," the teacher said. "It might do me some good to answer 
some personal questions." 

"Do you sleep with other men?" 

Nancy lowered her eyes to the floor. 

'i have not slept with another man since my husband died," she said. "I 
would be afraid to do it If I was making love to some man, I just know that 
my husband would appear to me with his head all bloody and then I would 
scream. I just know that something like that would happen to me." 

Then the teacher looked at the dark-haired girl and asked a question. 

"Have you found a way to get rid of the guilt, Donna?" 

The wealthy girl blushed. 

"Yes," she murmured, "but you might think that it is strange. All that I can 
say is that it works for me." 

Nancy reached out to the girl and took her hand. She trembled with 
anticipation. It was obvious to Marsha, who watched through the crack in the 
door, that Nancy was almost ready for her entrance. 

"Please," the teacher begged Donna, "please tell me what works for you. I 
have tried to get rid of the guilt but it still tortures me. I have to find 
some way to-to-" 

The sexy blonde's voice faltered. She did not know exactly what she wanted 
to do. She just wanted to be free, and she was willing to try anything if 
she thought that there was a chance that it would free her. 

Donna put her hand on Nancy's and tried to calm the teacher. 

"You won't think that it is sick or strange?" she asked. 

"No," Nancy vowed, "I would not think that anything was sick if it helped 
you." 

"Well," Donna muttered. 

Hurry up, Marsha thought impatiently from the other room. She tried to send 
Donna a signal through telepathy. Nancy was ready at that moment. If Donna 
did not hurry up and explain how she relieved her guilt, the blonde might 
calm down and then the moment would be lost to Marsha. 

Finally, Donna said it. The words came out in an excited jabber, as if she 
wanted to get it said and over with. 

"I let another woman beat me and then make love to me. That is how I get rid 
of my guilt for a little while at least." 

Nancy looked at Donna closely. She did not say anything for several seconds. 
Her mind was busy trying to understand what Donna had said. She finally 
realized that Donna's confession made some kind of strange sense to her. 
Nancy thought it over some more. She had killed her husband, who was a man. 
Would it not be correct then for her to seek a freedom with a woman? Her 
husband would not come to her if she loved another woman. At least, that is 
what Nancy hoped would be true. 

She spoke before she even realized that she had said it aloud. 

"I think it would help me to do that too." 

Even though the words were murmured softly by a woman who was just thinking 
about the prospect for the first time, Marsha heard those words. When she 
heard them, she opened the door and walked into the room. Nancy turned her 
head and stared at her in surprise. 

"Marsha," she said, "what are you doing here?" 

And, quickly, the teacher took in the way that the blonde was dressed. 
Marsha was wearing a pair of black leather panties and a black leather bra 
that had little spikes coming out of it. She was wearing boots too. Nancy 
had never seen anyone dressed in this way, and she had certainly never 
expected to see Marsha, her student, dressed like this. 

But, when Marsha announced her reason for being in the house, Nancy was not 
surprised. The quick glance at the way that Marsha was dressed had prepared 
the teacher for the news. 

"I am the woman who beats and loves Donna," the sexy, young blonde said, 
"and I want to beat and love you, Nancy." 

Nancy looked over the black leather again and then stared into Marsha's 
eyes. 

"All right," she said softly, "if you think that it will help me." 

"I think that it will," Marsha informed her. 

The blonde in black leather walked toward the teacher and reached out. Nancy 
put her hand in Marsha's and stood up very slowly, keeping her eyes on the 
woman who looked so sexy. Marsha was really little more than a girl, Nancy 
thought Marsha was her student But there was something about the blonde that 
seemed very experienced to Nancy at that moment, as well as very sexy, and 
she knew that Marsha had become the teacher and she had become the student. 
She had to admit to herself that she did not mind the new arrangement She 
just hoped that it would cure her of her guilt and rid her of her nightmares 
about her husband with a bloody head. 

Marsha put her arms around Nancy and pulled her close and kissed the woman 
firmly on the lips. As they kissed, Nancy felt the spikes from Marsha's 
leather bra dig into her flesh. She wanted to gasp in pain, but when she 
opened her mouth to make a sound Marsha put her tongue deep into her and 
that tongue gave her a great pleasure. It seemed so lively and so sexy in 
her mouth. 

Nancy had never kissed another woman like this and she had certainly never 
felt pain like this, but she realized that this afternoon was going to turn 
into a period of new sensations for her. Without even giving it much 
thought, she gave herself over to the blonde student who seemed to know just 
what to do. She would let Marsha do anything that she wanted. She would 
accept kisses and curses and lust and leather from the student who had 
become the-teacher. 

Donna watched as Nancy put her hands on the sides of Marsha's head and held 
her in the passionate kiss. The wealthy girl felt the twinge of jealousy in 
her spirit, but she knew that it would be better to share Marsha than to 
lose her. She set her cup of coffee down and watched the two females-both 
blonde and sexy-kiss. She watched too as the little streams of blood 
darkened Nancy's white blouse. The spikes in Marsha's bra were cutting into 
the teacher's tits. Donna wished that that was her blood, but she knew that 
Marsha would still be able to give her pain. One woman was probably not 
enough for that sexy, young thing, she thought. 

And then the wealthy girl surprised herself when she found that she was 
hoping for something different. She hoped that Marsha had prepared a place 
for her in the torture room this afternoon, not as a victim but as a 
dominating female. She was one of Nancy's students too and she realized now 
that, like 

Marsha, she had always considered the blonde teacher very sexy and 
vulnerable. Now, she wanted to join Marsha in whipping the teacher, but she 
knew that she would not be able to ask her blonde friend for that chance to 
show her own dominating power. She would have to wait and see if Marsha 
invited her into the torture room with Nancy. 

When the kiss was over, Marsha pushed the teacher away from her and looked 
at the blood that was staining the white blouse. She smiled at that blood 
and kept that smile on her face as she raised it and looked at Nancy. Nancy 
smiled too. The blood was warm and fresh on her blouse and she knew that it 
was mixed with the love that she felt for her blonde, sexy student at that 
moment. 

Marsha reached out and ran a finger over the blouse, pressing the material 
close to the bleeding flesh of the teacher. Nancy winced when she did that, 
but she did not protest. For some reason that she could not understand, she 
knew that Marsha knew best how to treat her, how to cure her of her guilt 
and her nightmares. 

The blonde student took the teacher's hand in hers and spoke to her softly. 

"Come with me," she said. "Donna has a special room that we use. You will be 
the guest of honor in that room this afternoon." 

Nancy found herself gasping with lust as she heard the student's words and 
she felt the wetness soak her panties. She knew that she was being turned on 
as she had not been turned on in years. 

The two blondes walked toward the door that led to the bedroom. Donna sat in 
her chair and waited with expectation. She wanted to go with them, but she 
knew that she would not be allowed in that room unless Marsha decided that 
she was worthy of it. She knew that Marsha controlled this moment as she 
controlled all the other moments in Donna's life. 

As they stood at the door, Marsha turned around and looked at the 
dark-haired beauty and smiled at her. 

"Come with us, Donna," she said. 

Donna, with relief in her breath and joy in her heart, almost jumped up from 
the chair. She followed the two blondes through the bedroom and into the 
special room, the room that she had decorated before she had even met Marsha 
but the room that Marsha controlled like a queen now. 

The dark-haired girl stood by the door and watched as Marsha led Nancy to 
the center of the room. There, the student ran her hand softly through the 
teacher's hair and then gave her her first order of the afternoon. 

"Take off your clothes, Nancy," she said softly, "and while you strip, tell 
me about your nightmares." 

Nancy shivered when Marsha reminded her of those nightmares, but she knew 
that she would have to reveal them if she wanted the student turned teacher 
to help her. 

She slowly unbuttoned her bloody blouse and started to talk. 

"In those dreams, I was lying in the dark and I am naked when my husband 
comes to me. He is in light. The light shines around him as if he were some 
kind of a god, and his head is bloody, so bloody. The bloody spurts out of 
the little hole at the side of his head and he looks down on me. The blood 
from the hole falls on my naked body and covers me with its heat and its 
stickiness. I want to tell him that I cannot stand the blood any longer, but 
I cannot speak. I know that I deserve that hot blood on my body. Then my 
husband tells me that I caused it all, that I laughed at him and made him 
weak and that caused his death. 'You shot me in the head, Nancy,' he says. 
'You shot me and killed me.' And the blood keeps coming and covering me 
until I feel that I am drowning in blood, his blood, not my blood. It seems 
to me that, if I could only bleed, he would forgive me, but I cannot bleed. 
I have no blood of my own. But he is filled with blood, never-ending blood 
and it washes over me and covers me until I can no longer breath. That is 
when I scream. That is when I wake up." 

By the time she finished her story of blood that drowns, she was naked in 
front of her student. She stood there with her own blood still flowing in 
little streams from her tits. 

"I understand," Marsha said softly, looking over the teacher's naked, sexy 
body and feeling her own pussy pulse against the leather of her panties. 
Then she thought that she should explain something to the woman. 

"Nancy," she said, "when we do this, I will have to curse you and yell at 
you and call you all kinds of names. But I am only doing this for your own 
good. I want you to realize that. I am cursing you because I love you and 
want to help you. Do you understand, Nancy?" 

The teacher nodded her head and then she thought of something that the girl 
had said, something that she wanted repeated because it made her feel so 
good to hear it. 

"You love me?" she asked. 

"Yes," Marsha said, "I love you." 

Nancy turned to Donna and looked at her with eyes filled with tears. 

"Do you love me too, Donna?" 

"Yes," the dark-haired girl said softly, realizing that it was the truth, "I 
love you, Nancy." 

"You both love me?" 

"Yes," Marsha said, "and we will both beat you with love." 

Donna, leaning against the wall, felt a sigh escape her lips as she learned 
that her lover was planning to include her in this wonderful afternoon of 
pain. She yearned to pick up a whip and beat the teacher as Marsha had 
beaten her so many times. She yearned to hear Nancy's screams of pain, and 
then, Donna thought, she and Marsha would take the woman to bed and soothe 
her with their lips and their pussies and their love. 

Marsha walked to center of the room and pulled down the chains that she had 
often used on Donna. When she saw those chains, the dark-haired girl felt 
her own pussy grow wet as she remembered all the times that she had hung 
from those special things. Now, she thought, the teacher would hang from 
them and she would be beaten with desire and lust by both students. 

"Come here, Nancy," the blonde said. 

And teacher walked to her and held out her arms. She knew that Marsha wanted 
to fix those chains around her wrists. She knew in her heart that this would 
be a special part of the ordeal. The chains had little shackles on the end 
of them. Marsha quickly snapped those cuffs onto Nancy's bare wrists and 
tightened them until they held the teacher securely. 

Then, as Nancy stood there, waiting for her ordeal to start, Marsha walked 
to another part of the room, to the little machine that controlled the 
chains. She flicked a switch and the chains started to move up into the 
ceiling. Nancy's arms moved with them and, finally, Nancy could feel herself 
being lifted off the floor as the chains jerked her arms and gave her a 
delicious pain. 

When the teacher's feet were off the floor, Marsha flicked the switch again 
and let the blonde, sexy woman hang there, chained and ready for anything. 

Then the blonde student looked at her old friend in pain, Donna. 

"Take your clothes off too," she said softly. "It would mean more to you and 
to her if you were naked." 

While Donna stripped, Marsha walked toward the woman who hung there in the 
center of the room. She spoke to Nancy is a voice that was like a curse. 

"You whore," she hissed. "You killed your own fucking husband with your 
whore ways. Now you will pay." 

"Yes," Nancy murmured, feeling the words chill and heat her spirit at the 
same time, "make me pay for what I did to my husband." 

Marsha moved close to Nancy's side, so close that the spikes from her 
leather bra punctured the skin there. She lowered herself a bit and felt the 
spikes rip through Nancy's soft, sexy skin. Then Marsha stepped back and saw 
the blood flowing, the beautiful blood of a beautiful woman. 

"See," she said, "you have blood. Your dead husband had blood and you have 
blood too." 

Nancy glanced down at the red liquid that flowed down her body and dripped 
onto the floor. 

"Yes," she said, "I have blood." 

By that time, Donna was naked and waiting for Marsha to tell her what she 
should do to show Nancy some more of her blood. 

Marsha turned and smiled at the dark-haired beauty. 

"Get a whip," she said. "You will be the one who will beat her." 

Donna grinned with girlish glee. "Thank you, Marsha," she said. And Nancy 
murmured an echo. "Thank you, Marsha." 

Donna walked to the wall and pulled down a whip, one of the whips that she 
most loved for Marsha to use on her. She ran the leather end of the whip 
through her fingers as she walked slowly toward the sexy, naked, bleeding 
teacher who hung there, waiting for her. 

This was a new experience for Donna. She had been beaten many times but she 
had never had the chance to use the whip on anyone else. She was going to 
love this, she thought, and she knew that she wanted to give Nancy the kind 
of beating that she herself would have wanted on such a sexy afternoon. 

Marsha stepped back and grinned at Donna. She gave her one last order, one 
last bit of learned advice. 

"Curse her when you beat her," she said softly. 

Then the sexy blonde in black leather raised her voice in a roar. 

"Beat the shit out of the no-good, murdering whore!" 

Donna raised the whip and flung the leather end at Nancy's sexy, white 
flesh, at her trembling breasts and stomach. It landed on that skin with a 
smack that Donna felt in her soul. She loved this sound of whip falling on 
flesh, even when she was the one doing the whipping. She tried to imagine 
what kind of pain was going through Nancy at that moment, and she knew that 
the teacher would enjoy this just as much as Donna had enjoyed all the 
beatings that Marsha had given her. 

Then, as she lashed the blonde teacher again, she started to curse. 

"You filthy cunt! You murdering prostitute! You no-good whore! You stink and 
your pussy stinks! You deserve this, you mangy cunt!" 

Nancy listened to the words and knew that they were true. She felt the sting 
of the whip and the pain in her body and she felt the warm blood flow from 
the cracks in her flesh and she felt good, warm and good and loving toward 
these two students. For the first time in years, she felt free. 

Marsha stood back and watched it all and thought about what was still to 
come, the loving, the lesbian loving that she and Donna would give to this 
sexy teacher. That is what she looked forward to now. She would let Donna do 
most of the beating because she wanted to be rested and refreshed for the 
loving. She had dreamed of this afternoon for months and now her dream was 
coming true. As she watched the teacher bleed and cry out, she felt that she 
could conquer the world. 

Later, she and Donna carefully bathed Nancy and rubbed the special ointment 
on her wounds. They put her on the bed and let her rest for a few moments 
before the loving part of the evening began. By then, the sun was going down 
and that made Marsha happy. She remembered that the night was soft. She 
remembered that she controlled the night. 

She stood at the window of the bedroom next to Donna and she put her arm 
around the dark-haired girl. Donna liked it when her blonde friend touched 
her, and, now that they were both naked and ready to make love to Nancy, she 
felt that Marsha was in a way her sister. They seemed to have so much in 
common. 

And, just a few moments before, she had discovered something else that she 
and Marsha had in common. She admitted it to her blonde lover. 

"I liked beating her," she said softly. "I liked giving it as much as I like 
receiving it. I do not know which one I enjoy more." 

"You can have both," Marsha told her, looking out the window as the night 
came over the town. 

Then Donna thought of something that she had never even considered before. 

"Have you ever been beaten, Marsha?" 

The blonde looked at her. She was a little shocked by the question, but she 
would not let her shock show. She had never thought about being beaten, but, 
now that she did, she knew that the idea did not appeal to her at all. 

"I like to be in control," she said. 

"I understand," Donna said. 

Then the dark-haired girl looked at Nancy, who lay sleeping on the bed. She 
wondered if she would like to beat someone now, if she would enjoy using the 
whip on a dark-haired, wealthy beauty. It was something that Donna had to 
consider now that she had discovered this thing about her own soul and her 
own enjoyment 

Marsha kissed her friend on the cheek and looked down at the sleeping Nancy. 

"Let's do it," she said softly. "Let's make love to her." 

The two girls climbed onto the bed with the teacher and lay on either side 
of her. They began to kiss Nancy's face and they roused her with those 
kisses. Nancy opened her eyes and felt the soft lips on her and knew that 
she was going to sleep better because of what had happened and what was 
going to happen to her. 

She stretched out her trembling arms and put one arm around each girlish 
head. 

Both Marsha and Donna seemed to peaceful and sexy, she thought, as they lay 
there on either side of her, and Nancy felt peaceful and sexy too, as if she 
had caught some of their peace when they had put themselves on either side 
of her. She tried to move and she winced with the pain that was still in her 
body. But it was not a bad pain, she decided quickly. It was the pain of 
love and peace. 

Marsha saw her reaction to that pain and she kissed the teacher lightly. 

"Just lie still," she said softly, with a voice that was filled with love. 
"Donna and I will do everything this time." 

And those words from her sexy, blonde mistress and lover made the peace flow 
through Nancy in a gentle stream. She was content to lie there and let the 
students serve her, just as she had been content to let them hurt her. 

Donna turned Nancy's face to hers and pressed her red lips to the teacher's. 
Nancy's mouth opened willingly to Donna's tongue and, as the two sexy 
females kissed, Marsha moved close to Nancy and started to lick her neck. 
She ran her tongue down the teacher's tit until she came to one of the pink 
nipples The nipple looked so yummy to the girl who had just seen that 
teacher bleeding. Marsha lowered her lips to the nipple and started to suck 
on it. She tasted the saltiness that was something like blood and she loved 
that taste on her tongue. 

The teacher moaned as the two girls continued to thrill her. Nancy would 
just lie back and let them please her as she had been told to do. She let 
Donna kiss and lick her face as Marsha sucked on her nipple and she felt a 
new soft sensation coming to her, something that she had never felt with her 
husband or any of the other men who had fucked her so many years before. 
This was woman-to-woman love, she thought, and she knew that it was 
something special. 

Marsha ran her lips up to the woman's face and Donna moved down to the 
nipple on her side of Nancy's body. She felt the teacher shiver under her as 
she ran her tongue around that nipple and she glanced up just in time to see 
Marsha kiss the teacher passionately on the lips. She thought that the 
blondes looked very sexy like that, and she let the thrill in her spirit 
that came from viewing Nancy and Marsha together pucker her lips. She put 
those lips on the nipple and sucked on it. 

After a few seconds, she felt a hand pressing on her head. She took her 
mouth off the pink nipple and looked up and saw that Marsha was kissing 
Nancy as she moved her hand down and gave Donna a sign. She knew what that 
sign meant. Her blonde, sexy lover, the girl who had beaten her so well, 
wanted her to go down on Nancy's pussy. Donna was happy to oblige. 

The dark-haired girl began to moved down Nancy's body, kissing and licking 
the little scars that she had put on the teacher's flesh with her whip. 
Every few seconds, she glanced up to see the blondes kissing. That gave a 
special thrill and it added to her pleasure as she moved down the body that 
she had beaten with a whip just a few moments before. Once she saw Nancy 
reach out and put her hand on Marsha's nice, soft tit and she liked that. 
She liked the idea that the teacher was moving a little and showing the 
girls how much she enjoyed what they were doing to her. Donna ran her tongue 
into the tender navel of the whipped teacher and felt the woman give a 
little jump when she did that. The dark-haired girl liked that too. 

Finally, Donna was over Nancy's pussy. The teacher's legs were spread for 
her, although Nancy was not looking at her. Nancy was still playing with 
Marsha's tit and was still kissing the woman's warm, wet lips. For some 
reason, Donna thought that it was better that she was not watching the girl 
who lay poised over her pussy. That way, Donna thought, she could enter the 
cunt and surprise the teacher and give her an extra, thrilling tingle before 
Nancy even realized what was happening. 

And the teacher's pussy smelled so good. It was clean and musty with the 
aroma of brand new pussy juice, juice caused by the pleasure that she was 
receiving at that moment. Donna moved her red lips to the woman's cunt and 
kissed it and the teacher did jerk. Donna put her hands on Nancy's thighs 
and held her down and heard the teacher moan a little bit. Then the wealthy 
girl kissed those thighs and stuck out her tongue and ran it over the soft 
skin of the battered female. She worked her way back to the pussy and spread 
the lips of that cunt with her fingers and sniffed the aroma that came from 
deep inside Nancy and wanted to taste the place that that aroma came from. 
She moved her tongue into the pussy like a dart. 

Nancy, still kissing and holding Marsha, sighed with pleasure as she felt 
that tongue come into her. It was wonderful to feel such a thing, she 
thought. It was the kind of thing that she had always wanted. That warm 
tongue seemed to be alive in her pussy like a little animal and Nancy held 
her breath and wondered how far into her cunt that tongue could go. She felt 
like that tongue was traveling all the way through her body, and the 
pleasure that it gave her was coming up to her brain in sparks. As Donna 
moved that wet, warm thing all around her, the blonde who lay next to her 
kissed her face and felt her tit and Nancy felt Marsha's tit too. It was so 
soft and the teacher was surprised at that. She was surprised to find that a 
woman who could be so hard when she was giving pain could be so soft when 
she-was giving pleasure. 

Whenever one of the girls would touch one of the cuts that they had caused 
in Nancy's body, the teacher would jerk in a little start, but she loved 
those little bits of pain too. In her mind, that pain was cleansing her and 
making her free of her husband's bloody ghost. She had found out that she 
had blood too, blood that would flow, and that made all the difference in 
the world. 

Donna moved her tongue out of Nancy's cunt and moved it against the 
teacher's aching clit. This would make the woman come, she knew, and she 
wanted Nancy to come. She wanted the woman to feel completely cleansed as 
she felt when she came after a beating. It would give Nancy the courage to 
start a new day and a new life. 

Donna understood all, and she put her lips around the woman's clit and 
started to suck on that piece of meat. 

"Oh, God," Nancy moaned. 

All of the sensations were hitting her at once and she knew that the orgasm 
was on its way. She felt that she was floating, floating on the lust that 
the two girls gave to her. It was wonderful and peaceful and it made her 
feel alive again. 

And then Nancy came. She came with an excited yelp that turned into a 
girlish growl. 

As she came, she knew that she would never be haunted again. 

 A CRY IN THE CITY 

Many women who lived alone in New York City were afraid. They thought that 
there was danger around every corner. 

But Marsha was not afraid. She lived in a deluxe penthouse apartment on Park 
Avenue and she knew that she would be safe because she usually worked at 
night. The night had always protected her. 

Marsha was twenty-six, a college graduate and a professional dominatrix. She 
loved her work, and she knew that her clients loved her too. She was sexy 
and beautiful and she looked so feminine as she walked down the street, but 
her clients quickly discovered that there was in Marsha a hard core, a 
passionate love for giving pain. It was that core that her clients 
appreciated. It was that core that made the blonde wealthy. 

The woman arose that day at three in the afternoon and looked over her 
schedule of appointments. At seven o'clock, shortly after sundown, she would 
meet with the Broadway leading lady who liked to be tied up in her own 
clothing and spanked. That would be interesting, Marsha thought, but that 
would not be the best part of the night. 

The best part would come at about midnight, when Marsha went to visit Ron 
and his secretary. That was an appointment that Marsha waited for with a 
feverish feeling in her soul. That was the one that she would really love 
this night. 

Ron was a wealthy businessman and his secretary was also his lover. He had 
called Marsha a couple of days before and had given her the name of one of 
her clients-the one who had recommended her to him. He had a special thing 
planned, he said. He had recently discovered that he liked dominating women, 
and he wanted his secretary trained, tamed and tortured. He wanted a pro to 
do it to her first, he said, so he could watch and learn too. He wanted to 
learn all the subtle things that a person could do to give his lover 
beautiful pain. : 

And his secretary, Veronica, had agreed to Ron's plan. She was willing to do 
anything to please her boss and her lover. 

Marsha loved giving pain to girls who had never received it before. She 
thought of these girls as virgins in a special way, and she liked being the 
first because she knew that she was one of the best. After a girl had had 
her, she would know just what it meant to be hurt in the best way possible, 
Marsha thought. 

The blonde dominatrix was proud of her ability and she wanted to share her 
knowledge with this businessman and his secretary. 

Marsha dressed carefully and put on some girlish perfume and went out to eat 
some lunch at a local restaurant. She liked eating there. The clientele 
included some of the best hookers in town and she knew that the call-girls 
would be there, eating something after arising for a night of work. She 
liked talking to those girls. She liked to compare notes. 

That afternoon, as Marsha sat at a table, eating a steak, one of the 
prettiest call-girls in the business in New York City, a girl named 

Candy, came in. 

She walked over to Marsha's table. 

"Hi, Marsha," she said, "mind if I join you?" 

"No, I don't mind," the blonde said with a smile. "Sit down." 

Candy was a cheerful, little redhead with big tits who looked so innocent 
that no one would ever think of her as a hooker. That is what Marsha liked 
about the girl, her lying innocence. Candy would do anything in bed. She and 
Marsha had once made love one afternoon when they were both horny and just 
happened to meet, but they did not work together. Candy was not into 
pain-either giving or receiving it. But she certainly enjoyed lapping a 
fresh pussy, and that is why she liked the blonde. 

"How is business, Candy," Marsha asked. 

"Okay, I guess," the girl said. "I had three appointments last night. But, I 
tell you, Marsha, things have gotten very weird lately. No guy just wants to 
fuck any more. When a guy just wants two girls to put on a show for him, I 
think I am having a normal, fun time. Last night, one guy wanted me to piss 
in his face and another guy wanted me to give him an enema and the third guy 
wanted to dress up in his wife's clothes while I watched him. Nobody-likes 
straight pussy any longer." 

Marsha laughed. 

"Well, Candy," she said, "you might have to take some lessons from me in a 
few months if you want to stay in business." 

"Jesus, I hope not. No offense, Marsha, but I got into this business because 
I just loved the feel of a cock in my pussy and last night I did not get one 
cock in my pussy. Not one of the three of those guys put it into me." 

Marsha knew what Candy was talking about. She still liked the feel of a cock 
in her cunt once in a while, although the blonde considered herself 
basically a lesbian. From time to time, she went out to a bar and picked up 
a guy and fucked all night. That was enough to hold her straight desires 
down for a week or so. 

Candy ordered a salad and when the waiter walked away the cute, little 
redhead smiled at Marsha. 

"Got to watch my weight," she said. 

Marsha laughed and felt vaguely glad that she did not have to watch her 
weight. She worked off a lot of calories by beating her clients all night 
long. 

While she waited for her salad, Candy moved her leg close to Marsha and 
rubbed against the blonde's knee. When Marsha smiled at her, Candy pursed 
her lips. 

"You know what I have in my purse, Marsha?" she asked softly. "No, what?" 

"A dildo. One of the biggest dildoes that I have ever seen. I got it in the 
mail yesterday and I was thinking of using it on myself, but it is no 
fucking fun to use it on yourself." 

Marsha grinned, knowing what the redheaded call-girl was suggesting. She 
looked at her watch. She had plenty of time until the sun went down, she 
thought, and she would enjoy spending an hour or two with the sexy, 
big-titted girl. 

"Sure," she said, "just as soon as we finish having lunch." 

The girls were professionals. They did not lose their appetites just because 
they knew that they were soon going to make love. They ate slowly and talked 
about politics and music and life in the city. Anyone who overheard that 
part of the conversation would think that the two girls were just two 
secretaries having a late lunch or perhaps two young housewives from Long 
Island. But some others in the restaurant knew the truth. The other hookers 
who came in waved at them and came by to speak to them, but most of them 
recognized the look that passed between Marsha and Candy. The two girls were 
lusting for each other there at the restaurant. 

When they finished with their meal, they went back to Marsha's apartment. 
When they entered the place, they walked quickly to the bedroom and there 
they stopped and looked at each other. Candy reached into her purse and 
pulled out the dildo. 

It was the biggest one that Marsha had ever seen. It was a foot of white, 
soft plastic, and, when Candy flipped a switch at the bottom of the dildo, 
the big, white thing began to hum and vibrate. 

"Just imagine," Candy said with a grin. "Just imagine what that could do to 
your pussy." 

Marsha giggled girlishly. She leaned forward and gave the little redhead a 
soft kiss on the lips. 

"I have to go to the John," she said softly. "You stay in here and get 
ready." 

"Okay," the redhead chirped. 

Marsha walked into the bathroom and closed the door and took off her loose 
dress that covered her black outfit made of leather. She had not wanted to 
let Candy see that outfit. It was for customers only and Marsha did not want 
to remind the sexy little girl with the dildo that she beat up people for a 
living. Marsha took off the special leather bra and let her big tits swing 
free. She wanted Candy to see the softness in her, not the hardness that her 
customers saw. She felt her big tits and she knew that they were very soft, 
as soft as Candy's tits would be. The one other time that she and Candy had 
gone to bed together, Marsha had fallen in love with the hooker's tits. They 
were so big and so full of life. They were like strange sexual creatures who 
had just attached themselves lovingly to Candy's body, Marsha thought. 

The blonde sat down on the toilet and pulled off her black boots. She 
remembered at that moment how her clients liked to lick those boots, how 
they liked it when she ordered them to crawl toward her and lick the 
leather. One of them kept a special bag of manure in his apartment so that 
Marsha could step in it and then have him lick the shit off the black 
leather. 

Yes, Marsha whipped men too, but she was really good with women. She enjoyed 
women more and she knew that that showed in her work. The blonde pulled off 
the other boot and stood in front of the full-length mirror on her bathroom 
door. She was just wearing her black panties now, the special leather things 
with the crotch cut out. Her blonde pussy hair was thick and stuck out of 
the panties like a forest that could not be controlled by anything, like 
something wild and natural. 

Marsha unzipped the leather panties and pushed them down her firm legs and 
stepped out of them, studying herself in the mirror as she moved. She liked 
the looks of her body. She knew that she was sexy, and she took good care of 
herself. There was no reason why she should not be able to work until she 
was forty or so. 

But then what would happen? She had been asking herself that question a lot 
lately. She knew that she would never have to worry about money. She had 
already made some very intelligent and lucky investments. When she retired 
from her work as a professional dominatrix, she would be able to travel and 
see the world. She would be able to afford a nice house in the country with 
servants. But would she be lonely? Would she have no one to share her 
experiences with? Marsha was bothered by that She had not been very good at 
holding onto lovers. The girls and women that she had met in college had 
passed out of her life when she moved to New York City and the women she had 
met here-even the ones who were not customers-were only interested in a good 
time. And she wanted more than that. She wanted some kind of lasting love 
from a woman who was tender and who cared for her. 

It would have to be a woman, she thought. A man was out of the question. She 
could never tie herself up with a man. She did not have a yearning desire to 
be accompanied by a man as she traveled down the road to the grave. She 
wanted a woman with her. 

Marsha looked at her sexy body in the mirror and thought of the redhead who 
was waiting for her in the bedroom and she could not help it. She was 
suddenly very sad. If she could only have a girl like Candy, a girl who 
would stay with her for the rest of her life, she would be happy. But Marsha 
knew that Candy was basically straight, that she liked cocks too much to 
settle down with a woman. 

The blonde wondered if she would ever find a woman who would stay with her. 

But then Marsha thought again of Candy, the cute redhead with the big tits 
who waited for her out there in the bedroom. Candy would never be her 
partner for life, she thought, but she could certainly make this afternoon 
very pleasurable. And that is all that Marsha could ask for, something to 
get her through from afternoon to afternoon. She opened the bathroom door 
and looked out at Candy. 

The young hooker was lying on the bed naked with her big tits standing up 
proudly. She was using the vibrating dildo under her tits, giving herself 
pleasure in that area that few people ever touched. When she saw Marsha 
standing there looking at her, she grinned girlishly. 

"I was wondering what was taking you so long," she said. "Come on, Marsha. 
Let's try this thing out." 

Marsha grinned and ran toward the bed. She jumped onto the mattress and 
crawled toward the redhead, shaking her head and growling playfully like a 
jungle animal. Candy growled back and turned off the dildo for a moment. She 
dropped the long, white thing onto the mattress beside her and put her arms 
around the blonde as Marsha crawled closer to her. Marsha growled one last 
time at Candy and Candy growled back. Then Marsha moved close to those big 
tits and the two women kissed. 

The jungle growling had been playful, but the kiss was in earnest, and there 
was something of the jungle in it too. The two females lay together and 
opened their mouths and let their tongues battle it out, moving from one 
mouth to the other as they rocked together there on the bed and felt their 
soft tits smashing each other with playful passion. Candy liked cocks more 
than pussies, but she enjoyed this afternoons with Marsha. The blonde could 
tell that. She could tell that Candy liked the softness of her tits just as 
much as she liked Candy's. 

When that kiss was over, Candy ran her lips around Marsha's face, kissing 
the blonde's cheeks and eyelids and throat. As she kissed 

Marsha, she reached for the dildo. Marsha heard the thing start to hum again 
as Candy moved on the bed and Marsha lay on her back with the redhead over 
her. Candy pressed the vibrating dildo to one of Marsha's nipples and the 
humming went through the blonde softly. She grinned and sighed and held 
Candy close and kissed her freckled face as the big-titted hooker worked the 
vibrator around the pink nipple. 

"That feels good," Marsha murmured. "Glad you like it," Candy said. "Mmmmm." 

Then Marsha raised her hand and put it on the white cock-like instrument 
that was better than any cock that she had ever had. 

"Let me do you," the blonde said. "You need it more than I do." 

Candy rolled onto her back and let her blonde friend press the vibrator to 
one of her nipples and run the thing around the pink circle. 

As the soft hum went through her, Candy sighed and opened her legs and ran 
her hand down to her red-haired pussy. She liked the afternoon easiness of 
the whole experience. It made her cunt wet with desire. 

Marsha saw the girl finger herself and knew that this dildo would do more 
for Candy than her finger ever could. She moved the vibrating thing down the 
redhead's body slowly. She made circles on Candy's flesh with the dildo and 
each circle got a little closer to the little hooker's wet and lustful 
snatch. Marsha ran the vibrator down the girl's stomach and worked it into 
her navel and made the girl giggle as the humming went through her even more 
deeply. When Candy laughed, Marsha laughed too, thinking that she felt young 
at that moment, as young as she had ever felt. She suddenly thought of 
another redhead, the first girl that she had ever made love to. That girl 
had been Peg, and Marsha had been a teen-ager when they had first gotten 
together. The relationship continued in mutual fun until the two girls 
graduated high school and went off to different colleges. Marsha suddenly 
realized that that was why redheads always made her feel young and carefree. 
Realizing that, Marsha put her lips on Candy's little mouth and kissed her 
softly. She was thanking the young hooker for being a redhead, the new 
redhead in her life on this nice and easy afternoon. 

Then Marsha knew that it was time to give Candy the dildo. That is what this 
hooker really wanted. She wanted Marsha to shove that vibrating, long, white 
thing up her aching pussy. Candy was very traditional, Marsha thought, too 
traditional to stay with her forever. 

But she was fun on an afternoon like this one. 

Marsha ran the dildo through the red pussy hair and put it gently against 
Candy's clit. The big-titted girl jerked a little with that first touch and 
then sighed with pleasure. Marsha lay her blonde head on the hooker's big 
tits and watched as she worked that clit up with the white dildo, as the 
vibrating brought out the juice that shined on the clit in the overhead 
light. 

"Put it in me," Candy murmured. "Put it in my pussy." 

Marsha sighed with resignation. Candy was so traditional. 

She moved the white thing down to the opening of the girl's pussy. She 
stretched her arm out and felt her way to that opening. Candy reached down 
and spread the pussy lips for Marsha and the dildo. She was that anxious for 
it. 

"Put it in me, Marsha," she whined, almost crying with the tension that she 
felt at that moment. 

One part of Marsha wanted to shove that long thing into the hooker with a 
fury, wanted to rape the girl with the white, fake cock. But she knew that 
she would be tender with Candy. The girl could not help it if her desires 
were centered around her love of a prick. 

Marsha knew too that sh'e could never be cruel unless she was being paid for 
it. Even the fun that she had once had by beating friends and neighbors was 
gone. She was a complete professional and she saved her wrath for those who 
paid to see it. 

The blonde moved down Candy's body as she slipped the white thing into her 
pussy. She moved it around in there and let the vibration go deep into 
Candy's pussy. 

"More," Candy murmured in ecstasy, "put more in." 

Marsha slipped about another inch of the long, white, fake cock into her 
cunt. "More." 

Marsha looked at the girl in amazement. How deep was her cunt anyway? She 
already had almost half of the foot-long thing in her. But Candy wanted more 
and the blonde slipped another couple of inches into her. 

"More. More. Give me all of it, Marsha." 

The girl was twitching on the bed with the pleasure that she was feeling and 
Marsha slipped the rest of the white cock into her. The blonde held onto the 
end of the prick and watched in interest as the big-titted girl went into a 
frenzy on the bed. About eleven inches of the vibrating thing was in her and 
Marsha moved it around and the girl started crying out, making those animal 
sounds again, loving the feeling that the cock was giving to her. And then 
the redhead arched her back and tensed her body as the orgasm rushed through 
her like a flood. "Ahhhhhhh!" 

Marsha continued to dig into her cunt with the big, fake cock until Candy 
relaxed again. Then the blonde pulled the thing out of her friend and looked 
at the glistening, vibrating thing. She held it up to the light and grinned 
at it. All of that had been in Candy. No wonder she loved cock so much. 

Then Marsha flipped the switch on the end and shut the vibration off. 

She looked down at the satisfied redhead and grinned. Candy grinned back at 
her. 

"Do you want it now?" the redhead asked. "That thing never goes limp like a 
guy does. It can fuck and fuck all night long." 

Marsha held it up and considered it for a moment. Then she decided that she 
did not want Candy to use it on her. She did not need a cock as much as her 
sexy, little friend did. 

"Naw," she said, "I don't think so. I am just happy that I got a chance to 
serve you." 

Candy started to giggle and reached out for the blonde. Marsha dropped the 
dildo onto the bed and went to her redhead lover and kissed her. 

"Thanks," Candy murmured, as she held 

Marsha to her. 

"You are very welcome." 

The dildo was lying between their naked bodies and their movement flipped 
the switch again. The thing started to hum and vibrate between them and both 
of the high-priced hookers-one a generalist and the other a 
specialist-giggled and felt the softness go through them. 

It was a great way to spend a lazy afternoon. It was a great way to get 
ready for a night's work. 

And it cured Marsha's melancholy for a little while. 

But, later, as she took the cab from the Broadway star's apartment and 
headed for the place where she was supposed to meet Ron and his secretary, 
Marsha felt sad again. She wondered if she would ever find a girl who loved 
her enough to stay with her. She wondered if she would ever be able to 
settle down. 

She thought of that first redhead again. She thought of Peg, the girl who 
had gone to high school with her and who had been her first female lover, 
her first female victim. : 

Peg had married a guy from the town and had devoted herself to teaching 
junior high school in her hometown. She would not want to have Marsha around 
now. She enjoyed Bob, her stud husband, and the two children that he had 
given her. She enjoyed her quiet, sedate life. 

Peg would never need Marsha again. 

And the other women from her past had left her too or she had left them. She 
had yearned for adventure and money when she was younger and now she just 
yearned for someone to share it with. 

When the cab stopped in front of the apartment house where Ron lived, she 
got out and paid the driver and stood on the sidewalk for a moment and let 
the night caress her. She loved the night. The night would protect her. 

But, she wondered, would the night give her a lover for life? 

Marsha ran her fingers through her long, blonde hair and walked into the 
apartment house. She could not think of love at the moment She had a job to 
do. 

And she was going to be paid well for that job. 

 PART TWO 

Marsha stood in the hallway and rang the doorbell to the apartment and 
thought of power. She liked power, and she enjoyed being around people who 
had power. That is why she liked her job. But she also knew that most of 
those people with power gave it up when she entered the room. They let her 
control them. In fact, they paid her to control them. 

This one would be slightly different, she thought. The powerful man here 
wanted her to show him how to control his lover. In a way, she reasoned, she 
would be adding to the man's power by teaching him some tricks that he could 
use on this girl who loved him so much. 

The man opened the door and smiled at her. "You are Marsha?" he asked. 
"Yes," she said with a smile, "and you are Ron, right." 

"Right." 

He held the door open and let her walk into the expensive apartment. He 
closed the door behind her. 

The blonde turned and studied the man who stood before her. He looked to be 
about forty. His hair was turning gray and he was very handsome. Marsha also 
thought that this man reeked of power. She had heard that he was wealthy, 
very wealthy and that he had visited in the White House recently to advise 
the President on tax matters involving big business. He was one of those 
people who had gained a lot of power since 1930, the kind who listed 
themselves only as consultants. They were experts and they knew how to 
handle people. Ron knew all about politics and business and public relations 
and several other things, and his knowledge gave him power. 

"May I get you a drink, Marsha," he asked, stepping toward her. 

"No," she said. "No, thank you. I never drink when I work." 

He smiled at her. She sniffed his expensive cologne and reached out and felt 
the fine fabric of the dressing gown that he wore. She grinned. 

"As I understand it," she said, "I am supposed to train someone here." 

"Yes," Ron said. "My secretary, Veronica. She is waiting for us in the 
bedroom. I would like to watch you work with her and learn what I can." 

"Certainly." 

"I just discovered this part of myself a couple of months ago when I was in 
Europe. I went with some friends to a very expensive-well, apartment filled 
with young ladies, and the girl that I picked was interested in these things 
and she asked me if I wanted to try it out." 

"So you did," Marsha said. 

"Yes," he said, "I did and I found that I responded to it better than I have 
ever responded to anything else in my life and now I want my secretary to 
prepare herself for this kind of-of-" 

"Treatment?" Marsha asked, supplying a word. 

"Yes, treatment." 

The man was obviously a little nervous with Marsha around, the blonde 
thought. She liked that. She liked the idea that she had the power to make 
even a wealthy and powerful man like this nervous. She tilted her head to 
one side and grinned at him. 

"Shall we go in and visit with Veronica?" she said. 

"All right." 

Ron led the way into the bedroom and Marsha followed him. When she saw the 
young girl sitting on the bed, she was immediately struck by Veronica's 
beauty. The girl did not look very old. Marsha guessed that she was probably 
nineteen at the most, much too young to be a real secretary for such a 
powerful and influential man. She wore her blonde hair long and she had a 
moon-shaped face, a fresh face. She was sitting naked in the middle of the 
bed with her legs crossed in front of her and she was reading. She put the 
book down when they entered the room, but Marsha got the chance to see the 
title. 

It was The Sun Also Rises by Hemingway. 

Marsha smiled at the young, blonde girl and remembered when she had been so 
young. But she did not believe that she had ever looked this innocent. She 
studied the girl's body. The little tits were pert and pointed and her body 
still had a bit of baby fat on it. 

Marsha put her briefcase down and took off her coat. She was wearing the 
loose dress over her mistress garb. She would show that outfit to Ron and 
Veronica soon, she thought, but first she wanted to talk to the girl, to 
find out something about this fresh-faced, young thing. 

She sat down on the edge of the bed. 

"Do you like the book, Veronica?" she asked. 

"Yea," the girl said. "Sometimes I have trouble following it but I feel real 
sorry for Jake Barnes." 

Marsha had read the novel in college. She smiled at the girl and knew that 
Veronica was really too young to understand what was going on in the novel. 
She could not understand the sexual inversion or the myth of death and 
rebirth that Hemingway worked into the book so skillfully. She would just 
feel sorry for Jake Barnes. 

Marsha knew what Hemingway was getting at when he wrote that novel. He had 
wanted us to feel real sorry for the whole, damned human race, not just 
Jake, and he had been right. 

But Marsha did not want to bother the girl's pretty, young head with 
questions of damnation. She knew that this young girl had plenty of time to 
worry about her own damnation in the future. 

Marsha took Veronica's hand in hers and spoke to her softly, in much the 
same way that a doctor would talk to a patient in the hospital. 

"Has Ron told you anything about what we will do tonight?" she asked. "Yes," 
the girl said, "a little." 

"And you are willing." 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"I love Ron and I want to make him happy." 

The girl's blue eyes were very big and, when she looked at Marsha, the woman 
almost wanted to hug her and burst into tears for she had not seen such 
loyalty and love in a long time. She glanced back at the powerful man who 
had settled into a chair next to the bed and she wondered for a moment if 
Ron deserved this kind of loyalty, this kind of selfless affection. The girl 
felt real sorry for Jake Barnes, but Marsha suddenly felt very sorry for 
Ron. She doubted that he would ever understand just how much this little 
deer-like creature loved him, even after he had seen what she was willing to 
go through for him. Ron was too old to understand, Marsha thought, too old 
to realize that things could be done for love as well as for money. 

But she reminded herself that she was doing this for money, a lot of money. 
She looked back at the girl and felt vaguely guilty. 

Then she started to explain some things about the experience to the girl 
with the big, blue eyes. 

"Now, Veronica, when we start the action, I will call you a lot of names, 
but that is just part of the fun. And you should do whatever I tell you to 
do. There will be some pain for you, of course, but you are a healthy, young 
girl and I am sure that you will enjoy it. Just let the pain rush through 
your body and I think that you will find that it is something special. All 
right?" 

"All right," the girl murmured. 

"Let's get started then," Marsha said, standing up and unzipping her dress. 

She pulled the dress off and stood there in her leather bra and panties and 
boots. She tossed her long blonde hair about and hissed at the girl. 

"Lie down on that bed, you fucking, little slut." 

Veronica was obviously surprised at the change in the woman and she did not 
move at first. Marsha knew that she could not allow that, even from a 
beginner. She pick up Hemingway's great novel and hit the girl with the big 
eyes across the face with the book. As Veronica lay back on the bed, Marsha 
dropped the book on the floor and turned to Ron. 

"Make sure that she follows every order that you give her, and make sure 
that she does it quickly. You cannot allow a slave to be too slow with you." 

The man nodded his head. He understood. 

Marsha opened her briefcase and pulled out the ropes. She moved around the 
bed, jerking the girl's hands and feet and tying them quickly to the frame 
of the bed. When she was finished, the girl was lying on the bed with her 
arms and legs spread. 

Marsha turned to Ron. 

"Now she is open to your every wish," she said. 

Again, the powerful man nodded. Marsha glanced down at his robe and saw that 
his cock was hardening in there. In a few seconds, it would be sticking out 
from under that expensive cloth. 

But she did not care about his cock. The girl was the one she had to work 
with now. As she reached into her briefcase for some more tools, Marsha 
looked out the window. It was very dark out there. She smiled and took a 
deep breath, trying to take some of the darkness into her soul so that it 
would protect her during this little session. 

Marsha pulled the whip out of the briefcase and turned to the girl who lay 
there on the bed, tied and big-eyed. She knew that Veronica was frightened 
now. No amount of preparation could keep her from being frightened at the 
first sight of that black, leather whip. 

The blonde professional walked around the side of the bed and turned the 
handle of the whip toward the girl. She traced the handle down the girl's 
body and she saw Veronica close her eyes and sigh as the cold hardness went 
around one of her young, pink nipples. Marsha ran the handle down her 
stomach slowly and moved it through the girl's light-colored pussy hair. She 
slipped the handle of the whip against the girl's eager, young clit. As she 
heard the girl moan. 

"Bitch," Marsha hissed, "you like that, don't you? You would like to have 
this whip handle up your slut pussy, wouldn't you?" 

The girl nodded her head. 

Marsha slapped the whip handle against her clit and heard Veronica gasp as 
the pain and pleasure mixed in her body. 

"I can't hear you, you little slut," the blonde snarled. 

"Yes," the girl moaned. 

"Yes, what, you bitch?" 

"Yes, I would like to have that whip handle in my pussy," the girl whined. 

She still had her eyes closed and, when Marsha hit her clit again with the 
whip handle, the girl opened her eyes with a start and a gasp. 

"What kind of pussy do you have, bitch?" the professional asked. 

The girl was confused. She did not know how she was supposed to answer that 
question. 

Marsha ran the whip handle against the cunt-lips. 

"Is that a whore pussy, bitch?" 

"Yes," the girl murmured softly. 

Marsha hit her clit again. 

"Yes, what, bitch?" 

"Yes, it is a whore pussy," the girl sighed. "Is that a hot whore pussy." 

"Yes, it is a hot whore pussy." 

"Is that a young, hot whore pussy." 

"Yes, it is a young, hot whore pussy." I "Is that a cock-loving, young, hot 
whore pussy?" 

"Yes, it is a cock-loving, young-uh, young-young-" 

The girl had forgotten the rest of the phrase that Marsha had given her. The 
blonde slapped the whip handle on the clit again and then she saw the tears 
come to Veronica's blue eyes. 

"Cock-loving, young, hot whore pussy!" the professional screamed. 

"Yes, I have a cock-loving, young, hot whore pussy!" the girl cried in 
answer, echoing the woman who controlled her. 

Marsha moved down to the end of the bed and studied the sweet, pink lips of 
the pussy. She rubbed the whip handle against those lips and saw the girl 
tremble and shiver with the desire that filled her body. 

"Bitch," the professional snarled. 

And, with that snarl, Marsha jabbed the whip handle up the girl's love-hole. 

Veronica gasped again and then started to move against the whip handle as 
Marsha started to move it in and out of her cunt. She was being fucked with 
the whip handle and she was enjoying that fucking. She was fucking back. 

Marsha knew that she could not allow the girl's pleasure to go on for too 
long. She jerked the handle out of the cunt and saw the girl try to follow 
it, try to keep it in her for as long as possible. 

But Marsha held the thing up and licked the sweetness from the handle with 
one long movement of her tongue. She turned to Ron and showed him how she 
was tasting his girlfriend's sweet pussy juice. Then she saw that his cock 
was standing straight up from his body as he sat there in that chair. His 
robe was open and he was stroking himself with an easy, powerful grace. 

But Marsha did not want to look at a cock right then. She looked back at the 
big-eyed girl who lay there waiting and wondering what would happen to her 
next. Marsha looked at Veronica was she turned the whip in her hand and let 
the leather strips on the end of the whip come free. Veronica gasped again. 
The girl knew what was going to happen. She knew that the painful part, the 
real part, was about to begin. 

Marsha had chosen this whip especially for the girl. It was a good one for 
beginners because it did not cut. It only stung the naked, excited flesh. 
She did not want the girl bleeding right away. She did not want to frighten 
the girl too much. She walked toward the side of the bed and held the whip 
out over the girl's body, as if she were giving some kind of religious 
blessing. She closed her eyes for a moment and remembered when she was as 
young as this girl. Was she ever as young as this girl? Suddenly, Marsha 
doubted it. To her, it seemed that her youth was a fantasy. She had always 
been this age and she had always been working in this way, beating people 
for pleasure and money-but mostly for money. 

The pleasure was leaving her every day, and she knew that, one day, very 
soon she would be hollowed out. There would be no pleasure, only business, 
and that thought made Marsha suddenly angry. She opened her eyes and she 
looked down in anger at this girl. It was as if this girl had stolen her 
youth from her. 

"You slimy little bitch," she hissed. And then she raised the whip and 
brought it down on the girl's white belly with a smack. "Fucking cunt." 

This time, the whip fell on her tits. 

"Silly little, cock-loving pussy." 

The whip fell on the girl's pussy. 

The curses continued to fall from Marsha's lips as the whip continued to 
fall' on Veronica's body. The girl twisted on the bed and cried out in pain 
but she was tied securely. There was no way that she could escape the whip 
and Marsha's wrath. 

And then, as suddenly as it had come to her, the anger drained out of the 
woman. She looked down and she saw the blonde girl weeping and moving on the 
bed, still trying to escape the whip that no longer fell on her flesh. Her 
white skin was red in the places where the whip had fallen, and Marsha knew 
that Veronica still felt the sting, the hot and lusty sting of that whip 
running through her. 

The blonde professional dropped her whip on the floor. 

With a sigh, she moved onto the bed and looked down on the girl. She put her 
hands on the girl's soft, little tits and massaged them, taking the sting 
away from Veronica's flesh with her soft movement. The girl stopped 
struggling against the ropes that bound her and looked at Marsha through her 
tears. 

"Did you like it?" the blonde woman asked softly, tenderly, as she rubbed 
the girl's breasts. 

"It was a little strange," the girl murmured. "But did you like it?" 

"I liked the heat and I like what you are doing right now." 

Marsha turned to the man who sat in the chair, playing with himself, pulling 
on his rod. 

"You should always follow the whipping with soft touches and with love," she 
said. 

But even as she said it Marsha doubted that Ron would ever know how to touch 
a girl correctly. She doubted that he would ever understand real love. It 
was up to her, she thought, up to her to give this girl the kind of love 
that she needed for once in her life. This one time would make up for all 
the times that Ron would not be able to completely satisfy her, Marsha 
thought. 

The blonde professional lay down next to the girl and massaged her tits some 
more as she moved her face close to Veronica's. The girl accepted her kiss 
with a soft, young passion and opened her mouth to Marsha's tongue. She was 
still tied. There was no way that she could touch the woman, but she tried 
to hold Marsha to her with her lips, with the sucking kiss that she gave to 
the woman. 

"Hey, wait a fucking minute," the man said, standing up. 

Marsha pulled away from Veronica and looked at him. He was leaning over the 
bed. 

"This was not part of the deal," he said. "I did not agree to pay you money 
so that you could turn my girlfriend into a fucking dyke." 

"Please, Ron," the girl moaned, "please let her. It won't change the way 
that I feel about you-" 

"It will be good for her," Marsha said softly, running her hands up and down 
the girl's body. 

"Fuck no!" the man yelled. "I will fuck her! Keep your lousy, dyke hands off 
her." 

"But-" Marsha said. 

"But, shit. I said get your hands off her!" 

"Please, Ron," the girl moaned again. 

"You shut the fuck up," the man said, sticking out his finger at the naked 
girl who lay bound there. Then he turned to Marsha. He reached in the pocket 
of his robe and pulled out an envelope. 

"Here is your fucking money. Take your whip and your rope and get the 
fucking shit out of here, you fucking dyke." 

Marsha surrendered to the powerful man. He could not be reasoned with. 

She looked at the girl one last time. 

"Sorry," she said. 

"So am I," Veronica whispered. 

"Fucking dyke," Ron said. 

Marsha stood up and pulled on her dress and zipped it up. She picked up her 
whip and put it into the briefcase. Then, with Ron watching her closely, she 
walked around the bed, untying the girl's hands and feet. She dropped the 
ropes into the briefcase and closed it. 

Ron stood at the side of the bed, yanking on his pole. 

"Fucking dyke," he sneered. 

Marsha put on her coat and shoved the envelope with the money into her 
pocket and walked toward the bedroom door. Behind her, she heard the 
powerful, stupid man say to his lovely girlfriend, "Let's fuck." 

"Asshole," she muttered. 

But she did not stop to curse him out. She was a professional and, 
officially, her job was done. 

Downstairs, in front of the building, she waited for a cab and she felt the 
night surround her. Suddenly, the night seemed very cold. It was not as 
comforting as it had been when Marsha was younger. She thought about the 
girl who had been so open to her in that apartment upstairs. That was the 
kind of girl she needed with her, but Ron would never let her go. That 
stupid, powerful man would never let his girlfriend escape him. 

Marsha stood in the darkness and sighed and knew that she would never see 
that pretty, blonde girl with the blue eyes again. 

Then the professional lifted her hand and hailed a cab that was coming down 
the street. She wanted to get home as soon as possible. She wanted to get 
out of this cold, damp night air. 

 MOTHER AND CHILD 

On her thirtieth birthday, Marsha got up and took two of her pills and sat 
on the edge of her bed, waiting for them to work. 

She had been taking the pills regularly for more than a year. She needed 
them to make her feel things, to make her work up the courage to go out and 
face the day and the night. 

As she waited for the pills to work through her and give her their special 
tingle, she turned around and looked at the bed and thought that it seemed 
very big. She fantasized that the bed was growing a little bit every night. 
While she worked with her customers, the ones who paid to be beaten, the bed 
grew just a little bit, so that, when she came back and fell into it and 
tried to sleep, she seemed even smaller than she had the morning before. 

Either the bed was growing or she was shrinking, she thought. 

But she knew the real reason for that fantasy. She knew that what she hated 
most about that bed was the fact that it was always empty. When she had been 
younger, she had had men and women in this bed with her, but, for the past 
year, she had slept alone on every night She worked with her clients and 
then came home and slept alone, when she could sleep, that is. Marsha had no 
interest in picking up anyone these days. She yearned for some steady 
companionship, a woman who would share her life, but she knew now that she 
would not find such a woman. She would be alone until they put her into her 
grave, and then she would be alone for all eternity. 

When she felt the pills start to work on her, she struggled to her feet and 
walked into the bathroom. There, she closed the door and looked at herself 
in the mirror, as she did every morning. Even with the pills and the sorrow 
in her system, she had still kept her beauty. That was her professionalism 
at work, she thought. She kept her beauty in just the same way that she kept 
her whips new and polished. But her beauty meant nothing to her any longer, 
for she knew that she would never have anyone to share her life with. 

Then she remembered that she was now thirty. She leaned against the mirror 
and sighed and thought for a moment that she was going to cry. But she did 
not weep. The tears would not come. Marsha was dry as an old bone that had 
been buried for years. 

The blonde moved out of the bathroom and into the kitchen and put some 
coffee on. Then she studied her appointment calendar. Big Lu, the 
prostitute, had called her a couple of days before and had asked her to 
pencil her in for an appointment soon. Marsha had done that, but she had 
wondered why Big Lu wanted to see her. That woman had never been into pain. 
She had figured at the time that Big Lu just had a special customer that 
wanted some pain, and that is what she figured now. But she would have to 
call Big Lu in a few minutes and find out what was going to happen that 
night. It was Marsha's only appointment for the evening, and it did not 
start until midnight. But she wanted to be prepared. 

The professional dominatrix thought about going back to bed and trying to 
get some more sleep, but the pills were already starting to work, knocking 
the sleep out of her head, and she looked at the bed and knew that she could 
not face being alone on that mattress again right now. 

Marsha sat down on the stool in the kitchen and held her head in her hands. 
If she could only cry, she thought, things might be better. Thirty was not 
so old if you could still weep, if you could still show some emotion except 
for sighing resignation at your plight. But she could not cry and she felt 
like she had been on the earth for at least a century. She sat with her head 
in her hands and waited for the coffee to brew. 

There was a time, she thought, when she would have rebelled against this 
loneliness that she found inside her every morning when she awoke, when she 
would have gone out and picked up some woman-or, at least, some guy-and 
taken a lover home to bed with her. But she could no longer rebel at all. 
She just wanted to take her pills and forget her loneliness. But it would 
not allow itself to be forgotten. It was always with her, just under the 
skin, and the mornings were the worst time, the mornings when she came home 
alone. The afternoons were bad too, when she awoke alone. Those were the 
times when the loneliness scratched and tried to break out of her skin and 
attack her and gobble her down. 

Finally, the coffee was ready. Marsha poured herself a cup and carried it 
with her as she walked to the phone. She called Big Lu and waited until the 
woman answered the phone. 

"Hi," she said, "this is Marsha." 

"Hello," the woman said with a groggy voice. She had obviously been awakened 
by the phone. But Marsha did not care if she had awakened the prostitute. If 
Marsha was awake, the blonde thought, the whole fucking world should be 
awake. 

"I called to find out what you have planned for tonight," she said. 

"Tonight?" Big Lu asked. 

"Yea, you called me last week and told me to pencil you in for tonight." 

"Oh, tonight," the woman said. "Tonight is something special, Marsha." 

"Special." 

"Yes, special." 

The woman seemed to be wide-awake now, but she also seemed a little nervous 
to be talking about what she planned for the night. 

"Well, tell me, Big Lu," Marsha said, a little testily. 

"It is my daughter." 

"Debbie?" 

Marsha had seen Big Lu's daughter. She was a cute, little, dark-haired girl 
of about sixteen who was already working the streets just like her mother 
did. 

"Yea," the mother said, "Debbie." 

"What about Debbie?" 

Was she going to have to pull every bit of information out of the hooker as 
if it were a tooth, Marsha wondered. She was thirty years old today. She did 
not feel like playing these games. 

"Well," the prostitute said, "I don't want Debbie working the streets no 
more." 

"So? What does that have to do with me?" 

"I want you to train her to do the stuff that you do." 

"What?" 

"Listen, Marsha," the woman said, suddenly relieved that the whole idea was 
out in the open, "you make a lot more money than I do, and I want Debbie to 
make a lot of money too. If you could train her-" 

"So that she can turn into my competition? You must think that I am fucking 
crazy?" 

"I have been saving up for a year for this, Marsha," the mother said. "I got 
ten thousand dollars and I can assure you that Debbie will not try to cut in 
with your regular customers. I will even send her to another city if you 
want. She can work in Los Angeles. A friend of mine lives out there and-" 

"Okay, okay," Marsha said, surrendering to the idea and surrendering more 
than anything else to the money. 

But Marsha still had some problems with the plan. 

"Listen, Big Lu," she said, "I can't really train Debbie unless we have a 
customer. You know, somebody to work on." 

"Male or female?" 

"Doesn't make that much difference. I work most with females now." 

"What about me." 

"What?" 

"You could train her on me." 

"You got to be fucking crazy!" 

"Listen, Marsha, I love Debbie and I want her to make something out of 
herself. I don't want to see her hanging around the bus station picking up 
drunken sailors and sucking them off in seedy hotel rooms. I want her to be 
somebody. I want her to have some money and a nice place to live. If I have 
to get a little beating to make that happen, it is okay with me." 

Despite her inbred cynicism, Marsha was touched by what the mother had to 
say. 

"Okay," she said softly. "Where do I meet you?" 

"Debbie and I got a little apartment on 

Ninth Avenue. I can give you the address and you can come over and see us 
about midnight." 

"All right, Big Lu," the blonde said. 

She took down the address and hung up the phone. 

The prostitute mother was prepared to endure pain in order to help her 
daughter make more money in her trade. That touched Marsha. She wondered if 
she should tell Big Lu and Debbie the whole truth, that even this kind of 
trade got sick and boring and worthless after a few years. No, she decided, 
Debbie was not interested in fulfillment. She would find that on her own. 
She and Big Lu were interested in getting her trained so that she would be 
able to specialize and make more money. Marsha tried to picture in her mind 
what Debbie looked like. Yes, she thought, she would be quite popular with 
the customers in Los Angeles. She was cute, pert, little thing. People would 
enjoy being beaten by her. 

Marsha suddenly started thinking about her own mother, the woman that she 
had left behind so many years before. She could not even remember what her 
mother looked like. She only remembered that her mother and her father had 
never really cared what she did. She had always been a strange, little 
creature in their eyes and she remembered that they had always seemed 
vaguely surprised by her presence when they saw her around the house, as if 
they could not quite place who she was. 

Her own mother would have never done for Marsha what Big Lu was preparing to 
do for her daughter. Her own mother would not even welcome her back if she 
returned to the little town where she had grown up. No one would really 
welcome her. They had all forgotten about her. 

Even Peg, the first girl that she had ever hurt, had ever lusted after. 

Marsha was haunted by visions of Peg, the little redhead who had lived next 
door to her. If she could only find Peg again, she thought, she would be 
able to regain her youth. She would not feel so. lost and so alone at 
thirty. Sometimes, when-she walked around the city on the afternoons when 
she could not sleep, she searched the faces of strangers, trying to see if 
one of them was Peg, even though she knew that her first female love was 
still in that small town, married and happy. At least, Peg had been married 
and happy a few years before, when Marsha had last heard from her parents, 
had last heard about Peg. 

It had been years, she thought. For all she knew that little town no longer 
existed. It could have been blown off the map by some kind of storm. It 
could have been destroyed. 

All the people in that town-Peg and Bob and her mother and her father-could 
be dead. She had not really cared before, but she cared now and she thought 
vaguely about trying to call her parents. But then she figured that it would 
not be worth the time. Her parents did not seem to care about her. They 
never had. 

She thought about calling Peg. Peg had cared about her. She picked up the 
receiver and called directory information and asked for that small town 
where she had grown up. She gave the operator Peg's name, Peg's married 
name, Bob's name. She waited and then the operator came back on the line. 

"I am sorry," she said. "We do not have a listing under that name." 

The simple, dismal sorrow filled Marsha. 

'Thank you, operator," she mumbled and hung up the phone. 

She wondered what had happened to Peg and Bob. Maybe they had moved to 
another city. Maybe they were dead. She closed her eyes and tried to summon 
up the tears, but, as usual, they would not come. They were dead as far as 
she was concerned, she thought. It was stupid to even try to call Peg. What 
would they talk about after all these years? The way that they had made 
love? The latest fashions? Exams they had taken in high school? Politics? 
The weather? The sweet taste of pussy? 

Marsha got up and headed for the bathroom, feeling suddenly ill. She knew 
that she would not be able to throw up, just as she was not able to cry. She 
was that dry, but she wanted to be in the bathroom, where she could hide 
from this bed, this growing and empty bed. 

At midnight, she swallowed a couple of pills and then knocked on the door of 
the ratty, little apartment. Big Lu answered it immediately. 

"Come in, Marsha," she muttered, a bit nervous at the prospect of what was 
going to happen on this early morning. 

The blonde walked in and dropped her briefcase on the floor and looked at 
Big Lu. The woman was older than Marsha and she was big, but she was still 
pretty in the way that an aging hooker was pretty. There was a kind softness 
about her. She had somehow gotten rid of all the hard qualities that young 
prostitutes have. She had become a sexy mother to her customers, the kind of 
woman who was ideal for young, virgin men. 

Then Marsha looked across the room and saw Debbie sitting there on the 
couch. She was a small girl with big, dark eyes and long, black hair. She 
was cute, very cute. She had not been working the streets long enough to 
turn old before her time, and she was not wearing any makeup. That made her 
look even younger, Marsha thought, even more innocent. 

"Hello, Debbie," Marsha said. 

"Hi," the girl said, blushing. 

Marsha thought that that was strange. This girl could blush at the prospect 
of beating her own mother, of whipping her mother's flesh. 

"Has your mother told you what we are going to do this morning?" Marsha 
asked, but as she asked the question she looked past Debbie to an open 
window and saw the dark night sky. She shivered. 

"Yes," the girl said softly. 

"She knows," the mother said. "She is ready and I am ready, Marsha." 

The mother's words made Marsha jerk away from the night sky and look at her. 

"Are you sure that you want to do this, Big Lu?" she asked. "Maybe, in a few 
days, you can find a client who-" 

"No," the woman said forcefully. "I want it done now. I don't want Debbie on 
the streets any more. I want you to teach her enough to get her started 
tonight. I have already bought her plane ticket for Los Angeles and I called 
my friend and told her that Debbie was coming." 

Marsha looked at the little girl who sat there and stared off at nothingness 
as her mother talked. 

"When is she leaving?" 

"This afternoon," Big Lu said. Marsha shook her head. "I can't teach her 
much in just a few hours." 

"I understand," the mother said. "Just get her started. My Debbie is a smart 
girl. She can think up a lot of things on her own." 

Marsha leaned over and picked up the briefcase. 

"All right," she said. "Let's do it." 

"The bedroom is in here," Big Lu said, leading the way. "Come on, Debbie." 

The little girl got up and followed her mother with a silent obedience. 

The bedroom was small and the bed was old, but it would do, Marsha thought. 
Through a window near the bed, she could see the night sky. She put down her 
briefcase and took off her coat and looked at that sky. There had been a 
time, she thought, when she had loved the night But now the darkness meant 
nothing to her, nothing at all. 

Big Lu and Debbie were both wearing robes over their naked bodies. The 
mother made a move to take her robe off, but Marsha stopped her with a sharp 
move of her hand. 

"Not yet," she said softly, "not until she tells you to do it." 

Then the blonde turned to the young girl and began her instruction. 

"Now, Debbie," Marsha said, "you must remember that you cannot allow a slave 
to do anything until you tell him or her to do it. The slave must always be 
reminded that you are in control of everything, and if the slave does 
something without being told to do. it, that slave deserves punishment. You 
should also remember that words are very important. You must curse the slave 
and sound as if you are really angry with that slave. That thrills the slave 
just as much as the beating does." 

Marsha glanced at the mother. 

"Okay, Debbie," she said. "I want you to tell your mother to take off her 
clothes and lie down on the bed. Remember to speak to her harshly and 
remember to curse her." 

The girl with the black hair looked at her mother for a moment with her dark 
eyes wide. Then the eyes narrowed to little slits and she spoke in a 
guttural, snarling voice. 

"Get naked, you old bitch," she said. 

Those first words, directed at the mother from the daughter, made Marsha 
shiver. She looked at Big Lu. The woman was obviously a little shocked too. 
She did not move to open her robe and take it off. 

Debbie walked to her mother and slapped the woman's face hard. 

"I said for you to get naked," she hissed. "I want to see that mangy, old 
pussy of yours, you old fucking whore." 

Then Big Lu opened the robe and took it off and stood there naked in front 
of her little daughter. 

Marsha watched the pair with a strange sense of glee. This girl was a 
natural, she thought. She would not have to be taught very much. She took to 
domination as she had taken to her mother's tit when she was a baby. 

Debbie pointed at the bed and snarled at her mother. 

"Get over there and lie down, you worthless old whore, and spread those 
legs. I want to see that stinking cunt of yours." 

Big Lu went to bed quickly and lay down and spread her legs. Marsha looked 
closely at her face. The mother was actually frightened, scared of what her 
own daughter would do to her if she did not follow her orders and follow 
them quickly. 

Debbie looked at Marsha, waiting for some more advice on how to handle her 
frightened mother. 

"Take your clothes off too, Debbie," the blonde said softly. 


To be continued ...
