After a time, we would sometimes play our games in a more public setting. Once, at a hotel where there was a swimming pool, Carrie decided to have me work on her tummy while we lay together on the lawn by the pool. Clad in a tight-fitting swimming suit, she lay on her back and, using only her abdominal muscles, lifted her head several inches off the ground. Although this form of sit-up was mild by comparison to those she did in her usual routine, it brought her muscles into stark relief under her suit and, after a time, caused those muscles to burn. When she started to feel her muscles flag, she invited me to use her tummy as a pillow and asked me to make her maintain her position for as long as I thought she could. By the time I let her relax, her belly was trembling.

   On a different occasion, we went together to a gym where there were exercise machines available. This time Carrie wore a simple leotard which hugged every curve of her otherwise naked body. At each station, it was my duty to make certain that she do as many reps as possible. As we proceeded, her leotard became glued to her sweating body, which became increasingly visible to one and all. For example, while she was working her pectoral muscles, every movement of her breasts was obvious and the points of her nipples were blatantly visible under their scant covering. In spite of, or perhaps because of, the immodesty involved, Carrie persevered. In fact, she told me later that the only machine at which she nearly balked was the one for the inner thighs. Indeed, as she well knew, each time she spread her legs, she was presenting her open labia to anyone who cared to look at the folds of her damp leotard as it stretched over her crotch, and she was aware that there were several men besides me who were enjoying the view.

   However, as much as she liked our games, Carrie wanted more. Specifically, she wanted to put herself under the control of someone besides me. As Carrie explained, she felt that the intimacy of our relationship made me incapable of imposing the sort of disinterested discipline which she wanted to experience. What she wanted was someone who was capable of bringing her to a state in which the distinction between pain and erotic excitement would be blurred. With this in mind, we began to look for someone who could satisfy her curiosity.  Our search was complicated by the fact that we did not know for what exactly we were looking. On the one hand, we did not want to find a sadist. On the other hand, we wanted to be sure that the person we found would have the skill and expertise to give Carrie the experiences she craved. For a long time, we debated whether that person should be male or female. In the end, Carrie convinced me that only another woman would know enough about the female anatomy and psyche to induce the sensations which she sought.

   With the help of the internet, we at last found a promising notice. A masseuse affiliated with a high-end health club had placed an ad in which she claimed that she had spent many years training women to successfully explore their bodies and fantasies, and, after we visiting the health club to make sure that it was the sort of place which we could trust, we made an appointment.

The Initial Session: The day arrived on which we were to meet the woman who would be training Carrie's body. In preparation for the interview, Carrie, knowing that her body would be on display, took special care with her toilet. Perhaps the fact that the person who would be paying such intimate attention to her body would be a woman, Carrie wished to be sure that her body would be presented at its best. Thus, she made certain that she removed any unsightly hair from her underarms and legs, trimmed her pubic hair, and finally chose a simple dress under which her otherwise naked body was displayed in a demure but attractive manner. Once she had finished her preparations, she took a deep breath and, with trembling fingers, grasped my arm as we left for her appointment.

   The room to which we were guided when we arrived at the gym was brightly lit and completely white. Except for a large mirror covering one wall and a variety of equipment, some clearly designed for exercises but others with less obvious applications, the room was essentially unadorned. In fact, there was so little furniture that we were not sure where to sit while we waited. However, our wait was a short one. Within a few minutes of our arrival, a tall, well built woman joined us and introduced herself as Olga. From the moment she entered, Olga's attention was focused on Carrie, whom she immediately approached and, without further ado, began to inspect with both her eyes and her hands. After a few minutes, she asked Carrie to remove all her clothes and step up on a small platform facing the mirror. Her tone and demeanor were clinical without being brusque. When Carrie had complied and was standing on the platform, Olga had her raise her arms to shoulder level and then resumed in earnest her examination of the body which was now blatantly available to her. In the pose which was she required to maintain, the skin covering Carrie's torso was stretched so that every sinew and bone was brought into relief and her waist hallowed in a way which emphasized the flair of her hips. Stepping forward so that her face was within inches of her target, Olga began a careful palpitation of Carrie's front. Starting with the outstretched arms, she squeezed and assessed each muscle as she proceeded from the arms to the shoulder and laps, then to the abdomen, and finally to the thighs and calves. As she proceeded, Olga made detailed observations about what she was finding and drew my attention to those aspects which she thought would interest me. For example, with her hands firmly gripping the sides of Carrie's waist, she pointed out that the gentle curve of Carrie's belly tightened in a way which caused the region around her navel to tip so that her belly-button pointed up instead of forward, and, maintaining her less than gentle grip, Olga invited me to probe Carrie's proffered navel with a finger. Similarly, with her hands digging deep into the soft flesh at the top of Carrie's thighs, she commented on how, in response to small changes in her grip, she could make Carrie flex her hips and buttock. More generally, during all her manipulations Carrie's body, Olga encouraged me to investigate Carrie's involuntary reaction to what she was doing. When she had completed her initial trip down Carrie's body, Olga, after telling Carrie to rest her arms along her sides, turned her attention to Carrie's breasts. Joining Carrie on the platform, Olga, with her own front brushing Carrie's back, reached under Carrie's now damp underarms in order to place a hand over
each breast. Once she had a firm hold on the resilient flesh under her hands, she began a penetrating examination of Carrie's breasts. Occasionally, when Olga's fingers probed the mammary glands and ducts lying below the surface, Carrie seemed about to protest. However, remembering
the commitment which she had made, she never gave voice to her protests.

   In some ways more difficult for Carrie than the physical manipulation of her body was the humiliation and excitement that that manipulation produced in her. Having a woman not only purposefully force her pelvis to simulate coitus while I watch, but also have that same woman make sure that I appreciate every nuance of the response that she was eliciting, was for Carrie a form of self-immolation to which she had never imagined submitting. The difficulty of coming to terms with her emotions were only increased by what Olga did next. Namely, when she had finished thoroughly palpating Carrie's breasts, Olga stepped down from the platform and rolled forward a trolley on which sat several instruments, each of which was specifically designed to measure a particular portion of the female anatomy. Olga began with several completely conventional measurements, with a tape, of Carrie's arms, chest, bust, waist, lower belly, hips, thighs, and calves. Aside from Olga's editorial remarks as she recorded her findings, Carrie found these measurements relatively easy to tolerate. The only one of them to which she wanted to object was the measurement of her belly. Namely, after circling her belly with the tape and recording the result, Olga administered a stinging slap just below Carrie's navel and then redid the measurement, now sure that Carrie would not be using the muscles in her tummy to tuck it in. Putting her tape aside, Olga completed her inventory of Carrie's body by making a detailed measurement of her breasts. Using a adjustable, circular metal band, she measured the circumference of each breast in several places, starting at their base and moving outward so that her last measurement was of the circumference of Carrie's areolae. Finally, with a pair of calipers, she measured each nipple twice, once before and once after stimulating the nipple to full erection.  Â

   However, it was only when Olga had completed these comparatively benign measurements that Carrie's resolve was pushed to its limit. The measurement which she found most humiliating was the one in which the strength of her vaginal muscles was tested. For this purpose, Olga, after having Carrie spread her legs, returned to Carrie's upper thighs where she now renewed the manipulations which had earlier evoked the salacious gyrations in Carrie's pelvic region. But this time, the sexual content of what she was doing was much more explicit. Indeed, once Olga saw Carrie's labia begin to swell, Olga asked me to spread them so that Carrie's clitoris became accessible. Once Olga had Carrie in a state of considerable, if embarrassed, excitement, she introduced into Carrie's vagina a narrow glass tube. About an inch from the top of the tube was a strip of about two inches where it swelled to a diameter of slightly less than an inch, and at the bottom of the tube hung a metal ring. When she had the tube lodged about five inches inside Carrie, she opened a box containing a sequence of lead weights and attached the lightest of these to the metal ring. After several seconds, she replaced that weight with a heavier one and continued increasing the weight attached until she saw the tube begin to drop. At this point, Olga re-inserted the tube until its top rested against Carrie's uterus and instructed Carrie to use her vaginal muscles to prevent it from dropping. Motivated by a desire to both prove herself and not humiliate herself further, Carrie strove mightily to keep the tube from falling. Never before had she realized how much physical effort is required to control muscles which are only semi-voluntary and unaccustomed to duress. Thus, after a couple of minutes, a thin film of sweat coated her entire body, all the way from her face to her now trembling pelvis. In spite of the intense stress of doing so, Carrie succeeded in keeping the tube from dropping for long enough to satisfy the demanding Olga, and for this she received the one sign of admiration which Olga bestowed on her that day.

   Without giving her much time to recover from her vaginal calisthenics, Olga turned her attention back to Carrie's breasts. After positioning the trolley directly in front of Carrie, she used specially drilled holes in the surface of the trolley to attach a semi-circular metal rod which rose, at its highest point, to the level of Carrie's chin. She then put on this semi-circle a pair of light rods which were held in place by clamps fitted with hinges, thereby leaving the rod free to swing. Hanging from each rod was an electric wire running to a motion sensitive device which recorded any movement of the rods.  When she was satisfied with her preparations, Olga had Carrie bend at the waist so that her firm breasts were pulled by gravity into a pair of succulent cones and her nipples just touched the rods. Finally, using several strips of adhesive tape, Olga attached each of Carrie's nipples to a rod. Up to this point, neither Carrie nor I knew what Olga had in mind, and, after the indignities to which she had already been subjected, Carrie found this new trial reasonably tame. However, that assessment was shattered when Olga took a step backward, armed herself with a ruler, and began a systematic tapping of Carrie's breasts. By tapping first on the outer surfaces, then on the inner surfaces, and finally directly up on the taped nipples, she set Carrie's hanging breasts in motion. Each bounce and swing as measured, with great precision, by the device to which the rods were connected.  Adding insult to injury, she handed the ruler to me so that she could monitor more closely the measurements being recorded while I applied the ruler to Carrie's increasingly sore breasts. As Olga explained, her purpose was to learn as much as possible about the musculature supporting Carrie's breasts and the firmness of the breasts themselves, and, by the time that Olga had the information she sought, Carrie's breasts were red and tingling.Â

   After releasing her breasts from the rods, Olga had Carrie stand down from the platform. In spite of Olga's slightly martial tone, she is not an uncaring person. To wit, when Carrie was back on the floor and staring incredulously in the mirror at her own slightly swollen breasts, Olga suggested that I try to relieve Carrie's discomfort by caressing those inflamed orbs. In addition, knowing that Carrie had already been forced to accept more than she had bargained for, Olga took advantage of this interlude to make sure that Carrie wanted to continue. Thus, as I clasped Carrie's warm breasts in my hands, Olga explained that if Carrie agreed to proceed, the next stage of the interview would make extreme demands on her body. Perhaps because she was re-assured by the pleasure I was giving her breasts, Carrie hesitated only a moment before assuring Olga that she wanted to continue.

   Encouraged by Carrie's assurance, Olga left us in order to prepare for the next stage in the interview while I continued massaging Carrie's breast. She removed the platform and replaced the trolley with a sturdy table. The surface of the new table was well padded. In addition, it was segmented so that one or more sections could be adjusted or removed independently of the others. Taking care to position the table so that one of its shorter ends pointed toward the mirror, Olga locked its wheels. After giving Carrie a few more minutes to enjoy the comfort that my hands were providing, when Olga saw that Carrie's breasts were returning to their normal color and that further fondling would push her into a state of lassitude, she had Carrie climb onto the table with her belly on its padded top. Using softly padded straps which were embedded at strategically chosen places, Olga proceeded to secure Carrie's lower body to the table. When she had finished, each of Carrie's legs was firmly attached to the table by three straps, one at the ankle, one just below the knee, and on the thigh, just below her crotch. The way that the straps held her legs slightly apart left Carrie's nether region on display, and, considering the precision with which Olga did everything else, I assumed that this too was no accident.

   Having checked the straps, Olga gave Carrie a pat on her upturned buttock and went to the middle of the table, where there were several wheels with which she could control the individual segments of the surface.  The wheel she chose to turn caused the top third of the table to drop from beneath Carrie's prone torso. Taken by surprise, Carrie's torso dropped along with its receding sup-port, with the result that she found herself, bent at the waist, with her upper body dangling from her pelvic bones. Before the blood had time to rush to Carrie's head, Olga moved to one side of Carrie's bent torso and had me position myself on the opposite side. She then told Carrie to lock her hands behind her neck and pull her head back while the two of us, grasping her at the elbow and armpit, hoisted her body into a back bend. In this position, Carrie's upper body assumed a graceful curve, with her breasts riding high on her chest and her abdominal muscles clearly visible under her stretched skin. I was struck by how much she resembled the prow of some classic sailing ship, a resemblance which she was able to appreciate herself as she looked at her own image in the mirror. However, her ability to appreciate her image was interrupted when Olga, after having me move the hand I had on Carrie's elbow to the armpit which she had been holding, climbed up onto the table, sat herself atop Carrie's buttock, and leaned forward so that her hands could circle Carrie's midriff. Using her strong fingers, she dug into the smoothly drawn cords of muscle running on either side of the center-line of Carrie's taut abdomen, and, with great skill, began to prize them apart. Naturally, Carrie attempted to relieve the strain on her tummy by lowering her body so that her muscles could relax, and, at first, it took all my strength to prevent her from doing so. Fortunately, after Olga had been at it for a while, Carrie's stomach muscles gradually learned to accommodate the invading fingers and it became easier for her to tolerate what was being done to them.

   When it seemed clear that Carrie was past the point of struggling, Olga retrieved a device which was attached at the foot of the table. This turned out to be a halter which she slipped over Carrie's head and fastened so that Carrie's position would be maintained by three bands, two broad straps running just above and just below her breasts to keep her torso bent and a thin one running around her forehead to prevent her from dropping her head. Freed from my responsibility of holding her in position, Olga had me move down the table to the juncture at the top of Carrie's crotch where, as she put it, I should do my best to distract Carrie from the travail to which Olga was subjecting her tummy. I began my diversionary maneuvers by running my hands along the smooth skin on Carrie's rounded buttock and along her inner thighs. Then, when I saw that my petting had attracted her attention, I moved one of my hands into the moist, warm pocket formed by Carrie's labia. There, with great care, I sought out her waiting clitoris, which, when I located it, I stroked with a steady rhythm. I was rewarded for my efforts by the look of ecstasy which soon replaced the one of pain which had been on Carrie's face. In fact, it seemed that Carrie had entered a state in which her mind was able to cancel the torment of Olga's continued assault on her abdominal muscles with the sexual pleasure I was giving her clitoris. As I result, Olga and I were able to keep Carrie from succumbing to exhaustion for a protracted period, by the end of which Carrie was torn between her desire to have us continue and her need to have us desist. Thus, even though Carrie's relief when we at last released her was enormous, she regretted leaving the surreal state into which she had been transported.Â

   Because of the stress to which she had been subjected, Carrie required our help when she tried to rise from the table. Once her feet were back on the floor, Carrie stared in amazement at the reflection of her sore belly, which had acquired a mottled pink hue. Not wanting her to catch cold, Olga draped a large towel over her shoulders and brought a chair for her to sit on. Even after she was seated, Carrie's eyes remained glued to her own image, from which she was obviously deriving considerable narcissistic pleasure. In fact, while Olga went to fetch her a glass of water, Carrie adjusted her posture to purposefully make her stomach more prominent. When she returned with the water, Olga solicitously inquired about her condition and urged Carrie to enjoy the brief respite she was being given from her labors. Further, to enhance Carrie's enjoyment, Olga suggested that I stand behind Carrie's seated figure and gently massage the hard worked muscles in Carrie's neck and shoulders while she made the preparations for the next stage in Carrie's training.

   In our mutual reverie of her body, Carrie and I were oblivious to what Olga was doing. Thus, we hardly noticed the disappearance of the padded table and its replacement by large, vertical, rectangular frame and were somewhat taken aback by Olga's stern announcement that it was time to put Carrie's body back to work. Somewhat reluctantly, Carrie accepted Olga's invitation to place herself, facing the mirror, inside the rectangle and raise her arms so that Olga could fasten her wrists to its top with a pair of soft cuffs. Aside from the mild strain caused by having her arms held above her head, Carrie was reasonably comfortable and quite pleased by the image she saw of herself in the mirror. However, what Olga did next compromised Carrie's comfort, if not her pleasure in her image. Namely, gripping Carrie's left ankle in her hands, she drew the leg up and to the left and then placed it in a sling hanging from a rope attached to a winch mounted high up on the left side of the rectangle. At this point, Carrie's left leg was in the same plane as her hips and lay outside the frame, but Olga had no intentions of leaving it there. As soon as she assured herself that it was safe to proceed, Olga used the winch to slowly raise Carrie's leg, inch by inch, until its foot was inches from her head and the entire leg fit neatly, if painfully, inside the frame along with the rest of her body. When she had Carrie's leg at the height which she wanted it, Olga adjusted the sling so that it ran from her calf to her ankle, with the result that Carrie's leg was held straight and could not bend.

   The image which Carrie now presented in the mirror was transformed. Most dramatic was the way in which the region around her crotch demanded our attention. From a purely aesthetic were the symmetrically placed curves of her thighs, the one espaliered against her torso and the other one bearing most of her weight. These curves gave definition to the entire region between them. Indeed, Carrie's lower body now resembled a ripe peach which has been slit to expose its pit. In this case, the ``pit'' was her vulva, which had been pulled forward from its usual hiding place. As her pelvis spread in response to the forces acting on it, her vulva opened to reveal its moist interior, thereby transforming what had been a whole pit into one which has been split to expose its seed. Further, the symmetry of her lower torso was intriguingly complemented by the asymmetry of her upper torso. On the left, her breast lay under her raised leg, which made the presence of her breast on the right, with its fully erect nipple, all the more dramatic. Of course Carrie's own appreciation of her image was tempered by the physical and psychological discomfort which its maintenance imposed on her. The physical discomfort was focused in the muscles of her raised leg. Specifically, her hamstring was begging for relief, and the tendons in her groin were stretched to what she was sure was their breaking point. The source of her psychological discomfort was the blatancy of her exposure. Never had she imagined that her vulva could be made so visibly the center of her being, especially when its visibility was so emphatically out of her control. The lurid way in which her own flesh was presented reminded her of Dali paintings she had seem, and it both disturbed and
titillated her to realize that it was her body that had become the object in the picture.Â

   Pleasing as Carrie's image was, aesthetics was not Olga's major aim. Thus, after admiring her handiwork, she once again grabbed Carrie's left ankle and forced the raised leg to move in a circular orbit whose diameter increased with each circuit. By working with care, Olga was stretching the tendons in Carrie's leg far further than they had ever been stretched before. In spite of Carrie's plaintive moans, Olga continued until she at last was able to bring Carrie's leg straight up. When she had the leg snugly pressed against Carrie's left breast, she reattached the rope holding the sling to prevent Carrie from easing the tension on her leg. Needless to say, Carrie was suffering and had every reason to regret having submitted herself Olga's care. Under traction as she was in the frame, with the muscles and tendons in both her legs begging for relief, she could not but wonder what she was doing there. At the same time, she was strangely elated. Even as a youngster taking ballet classes, her legs had never been limber enough for her to get them as high as her left leg was now, and certainly she had not known that her body, and particularly her nether regions, could be displayed to such remarkable effect. Even at the price they were costing her, Carrie was gratified by her realization that, once again, Olga was producing in her exactly the sort of ambivalent emotions
which she had been seeking.

   Entranced by the living sculpture into which she had turned Carrie's body, Olga stepped back to admire its beauty and told me to see what I could do to distract Carrie from her pain. In view of the gaping vulva which Carrie presented, I had no doubt about where to apply my services. Indeed, her fully distended clitoris was readily available at the apex of Carrie's welcoming vulva, and it required no imagination on my part to realize that it must be begging for attention. Thus, after drawing up a chair, I sat myself directly in front of Carrie, placed a finger at the tip of her clitoris, and proceeded to play her with the joy stick which nature had placed at my disposal. Carrie's response was immediate. In a vain attempt to control what I was doing, she fought the bonds which held her. Because there was little else that she could do, she would raise herself on the toe of her right foot in the hope that she could in that way win herself some wiggle room. However, all her struggling was for naught, and she after a short while she decided that she had better just accept the frustration which accompanied the pleasure I was providing her.

   Sensing that I had tormented Carrie's clitoris long enough, Olga suggested that I might want to try other, more satisfying techniques, and seeing that I was more than willing to try, she discreetly left the room. After removing my clothes, I clasped Carrie's body in my arms and guided my penis to the entrance of her vagina. Much to my surprise, and in spite of her copious secretions, I discovered that it was difficult to penetrate more than an inch or so into her body. As we both quickly realized, her normally straight vaginal channel was no longer straight. Instead, when her vulva moved forward, her vaginal channel was forced to follow and was now curving up and forward, with result that, in order for me to penetrate further, she would have to allow the walls of her vagina to be stretched. Thus, I continued only after she confirmed that she was willing to endure this new form of assault on her already stressed body. When I renewed my efforts, I found that progress was possible if I moved slowly enough to give her vagina time to accommodate each step in my invasion, and as I worked my penis against her vaginal muscles, I began to suspect that Olga knew full well what she was doing when she suggested that I enter Carrie. Indeed, as we strove to reach orgasm, I was giving Carrie's vagina, not to mention my own penis, as diabolically strenuous a workout as anyone could devise. Moreover, even when we at last achieved orgasm, the workout did not come to an end until my erection subsided sufficiently for me to disengage my penis from the iron grip her vagina had on it.

   As soon as we did manage to disengage, Carrie's ability to rise above her pain forsook her. Thus, it was with great relief that she greeted Olga's reappearance, and her relief became outright gratitude when Olga released her leg and she was able once again to stand on both legs. However, before releasing her still stretched body from the frame, Olga took the opportunity to explain that this initial session was at an end and what would be expected of her were Carrie to choose to return for another. Although Olga's examination had found Carrie's body to be in good condition, she felt that Carrie's waist could be reduced and her legs should be more limber. For these reasons, she demanded that, before working on Carrie's body again, Carrie would have to take an inch off her waistline and spend time at a ballet barre having her legs stretched. To emphasize her point, she then produced a belt made out of a padded wire fitted with a small, button shaped buckle on one end. After passing the belt around the Carrie's waist, she tightened it to the circumference which she required that Carrie achieve, anchored in place by pushing the buckle into Carrie's navel, and snipped off the extra wire. With her body stretched as it was, the belt was a comfortable fit. However, when Carrie's body was released, it was clear that the belt would be tight enough to sink into her flesh, which is exactly what happened after Olga removed the cuffs from Carrie's wrists and allowed her to leave the frame. Before leaving us, Olga suggested that Carrie not remove the belt but wear it as a constant reminder of the dimensions which Olga had dictated that she should achieve.

Interlude:Â By the time that Carrie was back in her clothes and ready to leave the gym, she was so physically depleted that I decided to bring her home in a taxi, and, after we arrived home, she needed
my help undressing and getting into bed.

   When she woke the following morning, every muscle in her body lodged a complaint. Not only did her abdominal muscles cry out every time she rose or bent, her legs, especially her left one, found it difficult to bear her weight. A long, soothing, hot bath helped but did not restore her completely. Further, it was not just her body which was exhausted, her session with Olga had left her emotionally drained as well. Each time she recalled what Olga been done to her, the memory would send a tremor down her spine. In particular, she was unable to forgot how, in Olga's hands, she had achieved a level of sexual excitement at which she had lost her capacity to distinguish pleasure from pain or even determine whether such a distinction really exists when sexual gratification is the goal. These memories both disturbed and thrilled her. Disturbing for her was the extent to which she had relinquished control over her whole self, mind as well as body, to another person. At the same time, she was thrilled each time she remembered how, with Olga's guidance, she had entered an extra- corporeal state in which her conscious and physical selves had become separated so that her mind was able to look dispassionately at the body it had left and appreciate the beauty which Olga's skilled hands had won from that body.

   A related issue for Carrie was the question of her submitting to a second session with Olga. Knowing, as she did now, exactly how arduous such a visit would be and still suffering the residual pain from the previous one, she was more than a little ambivalent about putting her body again at Olga's disposal. Did the pleasure sufficiently compensate for the pain? Why had she given another person, particularly another woman, such complete mastery over her body? For that matter, why was she, by wearing Olga's belt around her middle, still implicitly accepting Olga's domination? For several days, Carrie was unable to find a satisfactory answer to any of these questions. However, as time passed, it became increasingly clear to Carrie that she, in spite of her reservations, still craved what Olga had to offer and that, in the end, she knew that, inevitably, she would put her body
back into Olga's hands. Â

   Having reached this conclusion, Carrie had to confront the problems posed by Olga's demands. She knew that the reduction of her waistline could be accomplished by combining a change in her diet with a more rigorous exercise program. With this in mind, Carrie carefully monitored her calorie consumption and increased the time she spent exercising her abdomen. At first, she was disconcerted by the discovery that Olga's belt would dig into her tummy each time she called on her stomach muscles. As a result, she taught herself how to keep her stomach flat even when she was working it. For example, she would take care to tuck her tummy in rather than let it bulge when doing her sit-ups. Similarly, when I massaged her belly, she concentrated on keeping her waist as small as possible while rounding her lower belly so that it could accommodate the penetration of my fingers. Further, she was gratified to find that, after a few of weeks, her waist had shrunk sufficiently that the belt was no longer a source of serious discomfort.

   Limbering her legs was a more difficult problem. As a child, Carrie had taken ballet lessons, but she no longer possessed the flexibility which those lessons had given her body. Working together, we tried to devise an exercise program for the purpose of limbering her legs. After several abortive attempts, we settled on an exercise which seemed to work quite well. Namely, Carrie would lie on her back and raise one leg straight up. I, after grasping the ankle of that leg with both hands, would use my weight to manipulate it in ways designed to stretch its tendons. By pushing the leg forward, I forced Carrie's hamstrings to lengthen. When I pulled it to the side, it was the tendons in her groin which were made to bear my weight. Our efforts did make her legs more limber. On the other hand, nothing that we did with her legs even approached the demands which her visit to Olga's frame had made on them. Thus, we suspected that Olga would not satisfied with our efforts and decided that we had better employ more rigorous methods. For this reason, we located a dance school where Carrie could have a personal trainer for her legs.

   When we arrived at the school, we were greeted by a handsome young man named Greg who was wearing an outfit which hid little of his muscular body. After ushering us into a small studio, he asked Carrie, whose body, once she had removed her coat and slipped out of her shoes, was attractively displayed under her leotard, to stand in front of a full length mirror so that he could assess the condition of her legs. Unlike Olga's, Greg's examination was completely dispassionate. In fact, although he clearly appreciated what he saw, he seemed to have only a purely professional interest in her body. Even when he was touching her rather intimately around her crotch, there were no sexual implications discernible in his touch. For Carrie, Greg's apparent asexuality was simultaneously reassuring and disturbing. On the one hand, she did not want to involve yet another person in her sexual life. On the other hand, she had to admit that she expected men to be sexually aroused by her body and found it slightly insulting that this man was not.

   Having ascertained the information which he needed to proceed, Greg came to the same conclusion as Olga had. Namely, he thought the most efficient method for improving Carrie's flexibility was to employ a barre in much the same way as ballet masters used to train their students. So saying, he positioned a portable barre several feet in front of the mirror, anchored it to solid sockets in the floor, and, after adjusting its height, invited Carrie to place one of her legs over the barre. Remembering her ballet classes, Carrie assumed that she was to place her leg so that her ankle would be the point at which it met the barre. However, that was not what Greg had in mind. Standing on the opposite side of the barre from Carrie, he grasped her ankle and gently pulled Carrie forward until her crotch rested on top of the barre so that her raised leg was entirely on Greg's side and the groin of her other leg rested against the side of the barre. After warning Carrie to brace herself, Greg slowly stretched her leg by leaning back. As he steadily increased the pull on her raised leg, the muscles in that leg as well as the tendons of her groin were subjected to increasing tension. However, he seemed to know how much she could tolerate and stopped increasing the tension before it became too painful. Once he had the pull on her leg at the level he wanted, he, without diminishing the tension, began working the stretched leg. Depending on the direction in which he guided her raised leg, he forced Carrie to rotate on the other leg so that at one extreme she was nearly facing toward him and at the other extreme she had her back to him.

   Greg continued working her leg in this way for about fifteen minutes before having her switch legs and repeating the procedure. After this initial stretching of her legs, Greg allowed Carrie to rest for several minutes while he raised the barre about half a foot. When she was ready to resume, he had Carrie face the barre and again hand him the leg which had been raised first. This time, rather than pulling the leg toward him, he held the ankle on top of the barre and told her to lean her torso as far back as she could while he held her ankle against the barre. After she had complied, Carrie's body assumed a graceful arc, which was enhanced when she tilted her head and her lifted her arms so that they continued the curve along which her torso ran. In fact, she looked so beautiful in this pose that I asked her if she would mind my baring her upper body while she held it. Perhaps because, in spite of his being a man, Greg's apparent lack of sexual interest neutralized his presence from her point of view, Carrie, who was well aware how beautifully the pose displayed her body, hesitated only a moment before agreeing; indeed, I sensed that her only reason for hesitating at all was her concern that Greg not see the wire belt which encompassed her midriff. Since she was wearing a wrap-around leotard, it was easy for me to lower it to her waist without having her abandon her position or exposing her belt, and, when I had it tucked securely around her middle, the beauty of what I had revealed exceeded expectations. What I found most pleasing was the pattern made by her faintly visible ribs, a pattern which was aesthetically interrupted by the soft mounds of her breasts. Unable to resist, I positioned myself behind her back, reached under her arms so that I could cup her breasts in my hands, and, by trapping them between my index fingers and thumbs, tease her nipples until they stood out from her breasts like little red sentinels.Â

   Throughout, Greg watched us with intense interest but gave no sign that he was sexually aroused by either the sight of Carrie's body or what I was doing to it. Nonetheless, he did appreciate the aesthetic possibilities of Carrie's response to my attentions and suggested that I experiment to see what artistic effects I could produce by molding her torso into different positions. Since I too was intrigued by these possibilities, I readily accepted his suggestion.  Standing behind Carrie, I took one of her shoulders in each hand and pulled them back until her upper body not only bent away from the barre but also arched back toward me. In this position, her head fell back with the consequence that her face disappeared from her image in the mirror and was replaced by her nipples as the most prominent feature at the top of her body. In an attempt to increase the dramatic impact of her image, I decided that I should try to make her arms disappear as well. Thus, without reducing the pressure that I was applying, I dropped my hands along her arms so that I could pull them together and away from her body. As I had anticipated, with her arms missing from it, her image now resembled that of a Greek stature whose head and limbs had been lost. Once I had her arms where I wanted them, I held them there with one hand grasping her two wrists while I used my other hand to keep the ``sentinels'' on her breasts awake and be sure that they continued to stand at attention. In addition, my free hand roamed over her tightly stretched front, enjoying the soft layer of smooth flesh covering the tightly stretched musculature of her upper belly, and occasionally I would use her arms as a lever to make her sway back and forth in what became a slow, sensual dance.

   After Greg had switched to her other leg, I decided to mold Carrie's torso in a different direction. This time I pushed her body toward the raised leg and had her grasp the barre so that her breasts now lay on either side of her raised leg and her foot rested against her chin. In this position, Carrie's breasts were much more malleable than they had been when she leaned back, and, after taking a nipple in each hand, I set her breasts in motion by alternately pressing one nipple into while pulling the other nipple away from the breast to which it was attached. Carrie found my simulated milking of her breasts both relaxing and exciting, and Greg and I thoroughly enjoyed watching her breasts as they bobbed up and down and changed shape. Thus, by the time that Greg released her leg, all three of us were pleased and were looking forward to our next visit.

   We returned to Greg several times, and each time discovered new ways to present and enjoy Carrie's body while he limbered her legs. Never did Greg's interest in her body give even a hint of sexuality. It seemed that he simply appreciated its aesthetic potential and was content to participate in the realization of that potential. Somewhat to my surprise, once she had reconciled his disinterest with her own pride in her sexual attractiveness, Carrie learned that there was a special pleasure to be derived from having her body appreciated for its purely artistic attributes. Nonetheless, she knew that, without the sexual component, she would never achieve the state of excitement which Olga had evoked, and so our visits to Greg did nothing to assuage her need to revisit Olga.

The Second Session: Understandably, Carrie anticipated our second visit to Olga with mixed emotions. Indeed, she both desired and feared the experiences to which she knew Olga would submit her body.  Thinking, perhaps unconsciously, that maximizing her vulnerability might influence Olga to be gentler, Carrie, after performing her usual washing and shaving, spent a long time in her bath scrubbing her entire body with a pumice stone. As a result, when she emerged her complexion had the pink glow of a baby. In order not to lose this glow on our way to the gym, she donned a rather coarse wool dress which, because she had nothing except Olga's belt beneath it, would keep her skin slightly irritated and tingling.

   Carrie's neck and proceeding down her front, Olga demonstrated her profound knowledge of the female anatomy and her skill in the manipulation of its erogenous zones, particularly the less frequently recognized ones like the soft flesh along her underarms, sensitive skin in her armpits, and the feminine curves of her midriff and hips. Thus, by the time Olga reached Carrie's pubis, Carrie's body had turned to a mass of putty which Olga was free to mold, and, as Olga explained, mold it is exactly what she intended to do. In this connection, Olga told Carrie that throughout the session, her body would be kept in a state of sexual excitement, no matter what else was being done to it, and her excitement would be maintained and monitored by two means. First, her nipples would be required to remain rigidly hard, and various methods would be employed to assure that that requirement was met. Second, Carrie was to be introduced to the use of ben wa balls and to learn their power to exercise and stimulate the vagina. When we were once again in Olga's lair, Olga again began by having Carrie remove her clothes and stand on the low platform where her previous inspection had taken place. Carrie's efforts with the pumice were not lost on Olga, who appreciated both the rosiness of Carrie's skin and warmth which radiated from it. In addition, much to Carrie's relief, Olga, after expressing her satisfaction with Carrie's success in reducing her girth to the prescribed dimension, removed the belt with which she had bound Carrie's waist. When the belt was gone, Olga treated Carrie to a delicious massage. Starting at Carrie's neck and proceeding down her front, Olga demonstrated her profound knowledge of the female anatomy and her skill in the manipulation of its erogenous zones, particularly the less frequently recognized ones like the soft flesh along her underarms, sensitive skin in her armpits, and the feminine curves of her midriff and hips. Thus, by the time Olga reached Carrie's pubis, Carrie's body had turned to a mass of putty which Olga was free to mold, and, as Olga explained, mold it is exactly what she intended to do. In this connection, Olga told Carrie that throughout the session, her body would be kept in a state of sexual excitement, no matter what else was being done to it, and her excitement would be maintained and monitored by two means. First, her nipples would be required to remain rigidly hard, and various methods would be employed to assure that that requirement was met. Second, Carrie was to be introduced to the use of ben wa balls and to learn their power to exercise and stimulate the vagina.   When we were once again in Olga's lair, Olga again began by having Carrie remove her clothes and stand on the low platform where her previous

   Having told us her intentions, Olga left Carrie's body quaking on the platform long enough to fetch a vaulting horse and her instrument trolley. When she returned, she asked Carrie to drape herself over the horse, with her midriff centered on the pad and her upper and lower body hanging down on either side. Olga then buckled a wide strap over Carrie's waist, thereby effectively bisecting Carrie's body so that she felt as its upper half had been partially disconnected from her lower half. After dispatching me to the side occupied by Carrie's buttock and hips, Olga retrieved from her trolley a small box from which she drew a pair of metallic ben wa balls, one about an inch in diameter and the other somewhat smaller, attached together by a string. When she handed the balls to me, I discovered that they contained a heavy, viscous substance, possibly mercury, which wobbled in response to any movement and jiggled whenever one ball knocked against the other. Asking me to first warm them in my palms, she told me that when they were approaching body temperature I should spread Carrie's labia and introduce the balls into her vagina; and, because Carrie was already so sexually excited, my assignment was easily accomplished.

   Once I had the balls embedded deep inside Carrie, Olga joined me at Carrie's rear. Leaning down over her buttock, Olga placed a stethoscope in the dip just below Carrie's sacrum and instructed Carrie to work her vaginal muscles against the balls. In order to help Carrie figure out how to mobilize the muscles required, Olga had me reach a hand between Carrie's legs and palpate the part of her lower belly just above her pubic bone and directly over the portion of her vagina in which the ben wa balls lay. Although I could not feel the presence of the balls, Olga could hear through her stethoscope that my hand was having the desired effect. Namely, my massage was causing the balls to move up and down Carrie's vaginal channel. Because of their difference in size, they moved at slightly different rates, and each time that they bumped back together, Olga could hear a distinct click. Of course, Olga was not the only one who could perceive what was happening inside Carrie. Carrie herself was acutely aware of every movement made by the balls, both because of predictable stretching and contraction of her vaginal walls around the surface of the moving balls and because of the unpredictable shifting of the substance secreted in their interior. Thus, it did not take her long to gain sufficient control that, when, at Olga's bidding, I removed my hand, Carrie was able to keep the balls in motion. After listening for several minutes to the clicks echoing in Carrie's pelvic region, Olga removed her stethoscope but warned Carrie that her efforts would be monitored and that steps would be taken were they deemed to be deficient. Before moving back to the other side of the horse, Olga ran a second wide strap along the crease at the join of Carrie's buttock to the tops of her thighs and secured this strap to the horse in a way which, in conjunction with the strap across Carrie's waist, welded Carrie's pelvic region to the horse.Â

   Satisfied that Carrie's bottom would remain sufficiently stimulated for a while, Olga turned her attention to Carrie's top half. She began by taking from her trolley a contraption consisting of a pair of plastic tubes attached at one end to a small electric pump and fitted at the other end with pliable rubber disks. After switching on the pump, Olga cupped one of Carrie's inverted breasts, positioned a disk so that it was centered over the nipple, and held it in place until it became sealed to the aureola by the suction generated by the pump; and, when it secure, she immediately repeated the procedure on Carrie's other breast. As Olga had intended, Carrie was learning how it feels to have her breasts milked. To augment this sensation, the pump was designed so that the suction it produced varied. At times it was strong enough to suck Carrie's nipples into the tubes, distending them until they were over half an inch long. At other times, the suction was barely sufficient to keep the disks in place. Because its modulations seemed to have no regular pattern, Carrie could not anticipate the sensations which her breasts would be experiencing, and so all that she could do was let her body absorb those sensations. In response to what was happening to her, Carrie's natural bodily functions took over. Namely, like that of a mother nursing a suckling baby, the $-1òümilkingòý provoked a continuous series of rhythmic contractions in Carrie's vagina, contractions which, because of the ben wa balls, propagated all the way from her uterus to her clitoris. Thus, draped as she was over the horse, Carrie, once again reconciled herself to the loss of control over her own body, joined Olga and me as enthralled observers of a female body responding to nature's bidding. Without any further stimulation, Carrie's body continued to perform for about ten minutes, and during this period we were treated to sequence of sensual undulations which would have put any contortionist to shame. Indeed, with each renewal of the suction on her nipples, Carrie lifted her torso and swayed from side to side, and, when the tug on her nipples subsided, her torso would drop but the muscles in her hips and upper thighs continued to give evidence of the contractions taking place in her inner recesses.

   In spite of the blissful state Carrie was enjoying, her body was paying an enormous price for its pleasure. After only a few minutes, her body was sheathed in a coating of sweat, and after ten minutes her response to the sucking on her nipples began to diminish. Realizing that Carrie was close to collapse, Olga removed the disks from her breasts and handed me a towel with which to wipe the sweat off of Carrie's body while she prepared for the next stage in Carrie's training. When I had dried her off, I noticed that Carrie's hips continued to twitch and surmised that her vaginal walls must be still massaging themselves against the ben wa balls. Fascinated, I moved to her rear and ran my hands over her buttock, along sides of her waist, and up her rib cage until, by draping my own body on top hers, I was able to reach what normally would have been the underside but was now, in her inverted position, the upper surface of her breasts.  Perhaps because they are usually the least accessible area, I have always found the underside of a woman's breast to be highly responsive, and certainly this had been my experience with Carrie. Further, because gravity now was exposing rather than hiding the crease between her ribs and the mounds of her breasts, the undersides of her breasts were particularly vulnerable and exquisitely sensitive. Thus, as I caressed them with the backs of my fingers, my groin, which was glued to Carrie's buttock, was rewarded by a noticeably increased level of activity below it. After spending enough time on their undersides, I moved on to the sides of her breasts before concentrating on her nipples, which had lost none of the rigidity which their ``milking'' had produced.Â

   After giving Carrie and me enough time to enjoy the wonders taking  place in her body, Olga brought our attention to the preparations she had been making. During our dalliance, she had dragged forward a large, well padded mat, which she had positioned between the horse and mirror and had then fetched a pair of five pound barbells from her collection of weights. Compared to the other equipment which she had employed, these items seemed rather mundane. Nonetheless, as Carrie was about to find out, their simplicity belied their effectiveness. After freeing Carrie from her perch atop the horse, Olga told her to stand facing the mirror in the middle of the pad. Next, placing her hands on Carrie's shoulders, Olga guided her into a kneeling position with Carrie's buttock initially resting on her calves and then, after having Carrie spread her folded legs, with her buttock touching the mat and most of her weight born by the tendons in her splayed haunches. The fact that she was able to assume this position without too much difficulty was testament to her time at the barre, and so Carrie was gratified by Olga's look of approval. In addition, she was pleased by the image of herself reflected in the mirror. The pose presented her upper body at its best, especially because of the way her turgid nipples crowned her breasts. Equally attractive was the lush spread of her hips and the passageway to her vulva formed by her inner thighs. However, Olga interrupted Carrie's narcissistic contemplations when she placed a barbell in each of Carrie's hands and instructed her to first raise her upper arms so that they stuck straight out from her sides at shoulder height and then had her bend her elbows at right angles so that her lower arms pointed straight up.

   Olga's instructions only enhanced the charm of Carrie's pose. Carrie now resembled one of those sensual Cambodian temple statues depicting the consort to some Hindu god. Furthermore, because the weights she was holding were not very heavy, for a while Carrie had no particular difficulty maintaining her position. Nonetheless, her difficulty increased with each passing minute, and, after holding the barbells for five minutes, the muscles in her arms and shoulders had begun to burn, and beads of sweat appeared on her trembling neck and shoulders and ran from her armpits down her sides. By ten minutes, Olga saw that Carrie was in distress and gave her permission to lower her arms to her sides and rest the barbells on the tops of her thighs. On the other hand, she did not relax her control over Carrie's body. By the time that Carrie was allowed to drop her arms, relief was her only concern. In particular, she was not worried about her appearance and could not care less whether her nipples remained hard or the balls in her vagina kept moving. However, Olga swiftly took charge. Delivering a sharp slap on the bulge just below Carrie's navel, she first admonished Carrie for not keeping her tummy firm. She then armed herself with a small brush with which she systematically brushed the exposed tips of Carrie's breasts until her nipples again stood at attention on her puckered aureole. While she dealt with Carrie's upper body, Olga sent me to check on the ben wa balls. Rather than having me use the stethoscope, she told me to cup Carrie's vulva and stimulate her vagina into action by tapping on her clitoris. When I leaned down to place an ear against Carrie's lower belly, I could detect a slightly liquid sound, which I assumed came from her vaginal secretions acting as a lubricant facilitating the peristaltic contractions of her vaginal walls around the balls. Once Olga saw we had brought her back to a state of intense sexual excitement, she instructed Carrie to raise the barbells. Because her muscles were already tired, Carrie was reluctant to obey. Nonetheless, when Olga threatened to bring the session to an immediate close and send us home unless she complied, Carrie resumed her pose. Distracted by the attention which Olga and my continued to lavish on her nipples and clitoris, Carrie was able to hold the pose far longer than I had predicted. In fact, much to my surprise, she gave no further protest when Olga forced her to repeat this exercise twice more, with no relief from Olga and my incessant teasing.Â

   At last Olga decided that it was time to give Carrie's arms a rest and exercise another part of her anatomy. Thus, after she had Carrie lower her arms for the fourth time, she had me move a few feet behind Carrie and then, by pressing on Carrie's breasts, pushed her into a backward back bend so that her head touched the pat between her feet and her torso formed an arch. Stretched as they were, when Olga released them Carrie's breasts were completely flattened on her chest, especially after Olga denied her support from her arms and insisted that she lift them over her head and told me to grasp her hands so that she had to keep them there. In fact, were it not for her erect nipples and large aureole, her upper body could have been mistaken for that of a nubile adolescent. Of course, that resemblance ended at her navel, below which her generous hips, succulent thighs, and plume of public left no doubt that the body presented before me belonged to a fully mature woman in her prime. Using a towel and baby powder provided by Olga, I first removed the film of sweat coating Carrie's body and then replaced that film with a thin layer of powder. Because it tended to accumulate in all the hallows on her front, the powderhighlighted the contours of Carrie's tightly stretched body, accentuating her ribs and the region around her belly button. Kneeling at her head, I ran my hands gently up and down her torso, spreading the powder evenly over her ribcage, breasts, and armpits and finally into the crevice between her thighs and labia.

   Consumed as we were by the sensuality of what I was doing to her body, Carrie and I did not notice Olga's absence until she reappeared. At first I was dumbfounded by what she brought back with her. Namely, she had two drum sticks of the sort used on a kettle drum, the ones with fuzzy bulbs at their ends. However, after she sat herself cross-legged at Carrie's side, it became clear that what she intended was to use the tautly stretched surface of Carrie's tummy as a drum. To begin with, she simply stroked Carrie's skin with the soft bulbs, the way a drummer might get the feel of his instrument before beginning to play. Then, having familiarized herself with her instrument, she started playing on it. Striking with moderate force, she beat a steady tatoo on the tight muscles of Carrie's stomach. Like a drummer, she varied her target. Thus, at times it was the relatively soft area around Carrie's navel which was being hit, at other times it was bony rim of Carrie's pelvic region on which she concentrated, with particular attention to its apex just above her vulva. Much to my surprise and delight, Olga's playing did evoke an audible response from Carrie's body. When the neighborhood of her belly button was being tapped, I could hear a muted but definite low pitched reverberation coming from the tightly stretched muscles in her abdomen. When it was her pelvic rim, the reverberations seemed to emanate from her skeleton and were much higher pitched. But no matter what tones Olga's playing were producing, the effect on Carrie was one of extreme excitement. Never before had her body been subjected to this sort of stimulation. Not only did the reverberations coursing through her frame provide new physical sensations, she was greatly excited by her own acquiescence in the use of her body as an instrument for someone else to play on.

   As a crescendo, Olga brought her performance to a close with a protracted attack on the apex of Carrie's pubis. Holding the drum sticks with her fingers and moving only her wrists, she struck with little force but great rapidity directly on the point where the pelvic bones meet. In spite the tension caused by her position, Olga's blows resonated throughout Carrie's pelvic region, sending thrilling vibrations coursing through her occupied vagina and even penetrating into the ring of muscle around her anus.  The intensity of the sensations which Olga was producing was so great that, for the first time since she assumed her bowed position, Carrie began to struggle. Using my grasp on her hands to give herself traction, she attempted to lift her hips so that her pubis would be more available for the sensual punishment which Olga was administering to it. Carrie's struggles enabled her to raise her buttock high enough to expose her groin and the upper portion of her vulva, and Olga was quick to take advantage of the new targets. While continuing to strike Carrie's pubis with her left hand, she used the stick in her right to hit first the tendons at the top of Carrie's groin and then, more gently, to tap directly on Carrie's clitoris, which now peeked out between her labia. Each time Olga visited her clitoris, Carrie moaned and writhed desperately. Nonetheless, even after Olga continued to torment her for several minutes, Carrie did nothing to protect this
most exquisitely sensitive part of her anatomy. Quite the opposite, as became increasing clear, the purpose of her writhing was to expose, not hide, her clitoris. By shifting some of her weight to her shoulders and lifting herself onto her toes while raising her hips and spreading her legs wider, Carrie gave Olga unimpeded access to the now prominent bud which seemed to be asserting its presence between her gaping labia.

   Having received such a blatant invitation from Carrie to concentrate on her engorged clitoris, Olga asked me whether I agreed to having her bring Carrie to orgasm. Since I had never been a spectator when Carrie reached her sexual climax, I was intrigued by the prospect of watching someone else, especially someone so skilled as Olga, bring her to orgasm, and so I nodded my agreement. When she had my approval, Olga asked me to kneel straddling Carrie's head and then take one of her nipples between the thumb and index finger of each hand. At the same time, she knelt between the wings of Carrie's splayed thighs, and, after dropping the drum stick which it had held, used the fingers of her right hand to carefully free the stalk of Carrie's clitoris from the hood of flesh under which it normally resides.  In spite of her preoccupation with the strain and stimulation to which her body was being subjected, Carrie was keenly aware of the resulting extreme exposure of the most sensitive spot on her body. Never before had she had her clitoris so purposefully manipulated. In addition, this was the first time that it was a woman who would doing the manipulation, and this fact both worried and excited her. Intuitively, Carrie sensed that a woman, especially one who had already asserted so much control over her body, would be much more knowledgeable than a man about the potential of this uniquely female organ and much less inhibited about exploiting its potential, and Olga wasted no time confirming that Carrie's intuition was correct. With the fingers of her right hand preventing Carrie's clitoris from hiding under its protective cover, Olga used the drum stick in her left hand to administer a sequence of well aimed taps to the tip of the glistening stalk staring at her between Carrie's labia. Even though Carrie's lower body bucked each time Olga struck her clitoris, she did nothing to protect it from further assault. Timing the delivery of her taps so that they came at five second intervals, Olga instructed me to squeeze Carrie's nipples during between blows, thereby making sure that at no time was Carrie's body free of stimulation.

   After a couple of minutes, Olga stopped her tapping and dropped the stick in her left hand. Now using both her hands, Olga peeled back Carrie's labia and placed her thumbs directly on either side of the fully exposed stalk of Carrie's clitoris. Ignoring the gyrations of Carrie's hips, Olga commenced a skilled manipulation of Carrie's distended clitoris. Alternating sides, her thumbs bent Carrie's stalk back and forth, each time forcing it to remain bent for several seconds. For Carrie, Olga's treatment of her clitoris was excruciating. On the one hand, having her rigid clitoris forced to bend caused a pain which permeated her entire vulva and made the muscles of her vagina contract around the ben wa balls which were still deeply embedded in its depths. On the other hand, the pain was entirely different from any she had experienced before. Indeed, it was a pain which she willing endured and even wanted to have increased. Thus, with tears clouding her eyes, she ceased her gyrations, and the only movement in her lower body came from the stressed muscles in her tummy and thighs. Olga was clearly pleased by Carrie's reaction and, with a sly smile, announced that she intended to deny Carrie relief until she had achieved orgasm, an announcement to which, much to my surprise, Carrie raised no complaint. Although I continued to tease Carrie's nipples, the focus of my attention was Carrie's vulva and what Olga was doing down there. What fascinated me was the way that the intensity of the sensations Olga was producing simultaneously brought Carrie to the brink of orgasm and prevented her from achieving it. Indeed, each time that Carrie's body seemed about to reach orgasm, Olga would knowingly increase the pressure on her clitoris so that Carrie was denied the moment of relief which she required to prepare for climax. In this way, Olga kept Carrie suspended in a state of pure frustration, forcing her body to absorb enormous excitement while preventing her from bringing herself to orgasm. Of course, Carrie's body could not tolerate this level of stimulation indefinitely. Thus, when Olga sensed that the pleasure she was bringing Carrie would soon lose out to the torment she was administering, she relented, and the next time Carrie's body tensed in anticipation of climax, Olga allowed her to achieve the orgasm toward which she had been striving ever since our arrival. Never before had I seen Carrie climax with such intensity. In spite of its exhaustion, her body convulsed with each wave of excitement and relief that swept over it. Her initial convulsion was the strongest, but it was followed by a succession after-shocks during which she thrust her hips in a abandoned imitation of coitus. By the time that the final wave had racked her body, Carrie was so depleted that she simply collapsed into the puddle of sweat which had been building on her back and dropping onto the mat over which she had been arched. When this happened, Olga leaned over Carrie's prone form, planted an admiring kiss on her forehead, and left us alone.

   I soon realized that Carrie was so physically and mentally spent that she was completely incapable of caring for herself. As a consequence, she was entirely passive as I ministered to her needs. After wiping down her body and removing the ben wa balls from her vagina, I decided to give her a relaxing massage, in response to which she slipped into a peaceful sleep. However, not wanting to prolong our departure too long, I disturbed her rest enough to get her sufficiently dressed to allow us to leave without being arrested for indecency. When I at last had guided her out onto the street, I hailed a cab in which we returned home.

Conclusion: As was the case after her first visit to Olga, Carrie took several days to recover from the experience. Indeed, it is not entirely clear that she has yet come to terms with the emotions which the memory of that experience continues to evoke. Carrie has never thought of herself as lesbian, and so her own acquiescence to Olga's explicitly sexual manipulation of her body disturbed her. On the one hand, she was able to rationalize that her acquiescence was a consequence of the peculiar situation and was therefore not a reflection of her true sexual proclivities. On the other hand, she was honest enough to realize that she had been an active and willing participant in what had been done to her. 0Indeed, it was she, even after the initial session, who had sought out Olga and not Olga who had come to her. Thus, there was no way for her to pretend it was an accident that the most intimate parts of her body had come under Olga's control and had been made to endure the consequences. Carrie had always suspected that only another woman would know how to extract the ultimate pleasure of which her body was capable, but she had never fully understood the implications of that realization. However, now, after two sessions with Olga, she had no way to escape the conclusion that, even if she was not a lesbian, her body had appreciated the special attentions which only a woman would have known it craved and how to administer. In fact, each time that Carrie recalled how Olga had transported her to that level of excitement at which the pain she imposed on her body only enhanced the pleasurable sensations which her mind was registering, a frisson of excitement coursed through her body at the same time as a dark shadow of fear and anguish overlay her thoughts.Â

   As distinguished from Carrie's thinking after her first session with Olga, Carrie's desire to resubmit her body to Olga's control was outweighed by her reservations about doing so. Instead, what she wanted was to return to the sort of games which she used to play with me and to see if she could learn to use them to satisfy her needs. Thus, after she had recovered sufficiently from the ordeal of her second visit to Olga, Carrie resumed her exercise regimen under my supervision. Usually, we have worked her body at home, in which case she is expected to present herself naked so that she will be maximally available. On the other hand, in order to avoid boredom, we have sometimes chosen a more public venue in which to play our games. On these occasions, I have made sure that Carrie will be constantly aware that we are treading the thin line which separates propriety from indiscretion. So far, Carrie has been satisfied. However, I do not fool myself: Olga remains a prominent presence in her mind. Â

I hauled my tall ass out of bed and crept into the bathroom. She had left the door open, that same small grin stretched wider as I approached the door and pushed it open. I was immediately hit by a wall of steam and the air became notably thicker. My skin already reflected the light and before long little beads of water were rolling down my naked form.

She was still unaware of me, or if she was she gave no indication of knowing. I stared at her in the shower for a moment or two, simply admiring her. She jokes about her appearance, but I can never find a flaw in that voluptuous form. She's not the anorexic ideal woman of Vogue magazine...and thank god for that, she's exactly what I could want in a woman. I smile somewhat more fondly than I should considering my lascivious intentions and begin walking forward, stepping over her clothes and collar and pulling open the door to the shower where my lovely brunette is bathing. Her back was to me and she was humming some song or another. I slipped in behind her, my cock at this point was standing firmly at attention. If anyone wants to know then I'm around 8 1/2 to 9 inches long when I'm aroused. I realize that every man claims to be around that length, but in an insecure moment I just measured the damn thing with a ruler.

She must have felt me blocking the water to her body but didn't have time to react as I slid into the shower and pressed up against her back. I'm over a foot taller than her, so I felt my member pressing firmly into the small of her back. I reached my hands around to her waist and pulled her close to me, she let out a surprised little gasp as I lowered my mouth to her neck and began kissing her heavily. As I raised my hands to her wet breasts I began to use my teeth, sinking my canines into the soft skin of her neck as my hands finally wrapped around her soft breasts. She was quite large in that area, I'm not exactly familiar with the cup sizes myself (although she was obviously a D) but my hands are large and she was more than a handful.

I idly played with her breasts, taking advantage of the soap running down her body as I lightly toyed with her nipple. She let out a soft gasp and a whine as I pinched it firmly. I didn't stop pinching as my other hand slid down to her navel and rested just above her nest of brown pubic hair. She pushed herself back into me and her hand came up to the side of my face. Her other hand began exploring and grasped my throbbing shaft. I tried not to grunt as her hand began lightly playing over my weapon. Exploring it idly as I teased and abused her rapidly stiffening nipple.

I let my other hand finally slip between her legs and pushed two fingers into her warm recesses rather unceremoniously. I felt her knees go weak and she started to slide down slightly. Her hand gripped my shaft and began a slow, rhythmic pumping as I slid my fingers deeper into her, pulling and pushing in and out of her steadily while I allowed my thumb to press into her clit and roll it around gently.

She turned her face towards me, her eyes half closed and glazed over with lust. I didn't say a word as I lowered my mouth to hers and pressed my lips firmly on hers. My tongue slid into her waiting mouth and I rapidly turned her around, quickly replacing my hands where they were. My ministrations on her nipple became more violent as I felt myself slipping to the mass of pure instinct that I knew was coming to overpower me. She gasped and whined into my mouth as the pain increased. Never once did she do anything but thrust her chest forward to meet my abuse.

I grunted and I pressed her up against the shower wall. Our bodies slapped together as I raised her leg. I lowered myself and arched my back, positioning the throbbing head at her entrance. Never once did I stop savagely kissing her. Our tongues wrestled ceaselessly as I pressed the head of my cock between her lips. Without further warning I pushed deeply into her with one thrust, lifting her off the ground in my efforts to impale myself as deeply as possible within her. She let out a small cry that surely would have alerted someone had we not had the house to ourselves. I merely grunted as I started a rhythm inside of her, feeling her contract around me as I let my hand slide up and down her naked thigh.

My muscles tensed as I used her up against the wall, with the hot water spraying down on the both of us. I lowered my head down to her breast (not a difficult thing considering I was already slightly hunched to accommodate the vicious fucking that I was currently giving her) I let her firm nipple slide into my mouth, taking it between my teeth occasionally and pulling on it.

The sound of two bodies gyrating against eachother has always been something that I've...appreciated, to say the least. That sound is multiplied a hundred fold in the shower, when both participants are dripping wet. I rammed hard into her, never ceasing my brutal pace and taking her hard. I pulled out almost to the head and then rammed back into her all the way, pushing her up a bit with each brutal thrust. Eventually my need for release grew so much that her body shook at the impact of every thrust.

My hands roamed around her again, especially around her naked thighs and buttox. I felt the onset of the inevitable approaching and judging by the increased frequency and urgency of her moans and cries so did she. I cupped her buttox and held her to me as my movements became more erratic and harsh. I let my and delve deeper between her cheeks until I felt my finger pressing into her sphincter a bit.

I ran my finger around it, feeling my orgasm approaching, as I crested that final hill I plunged my finger deep into her recesses. She let out a cry and threw her head back, thrusting her chest out as she came with me. I felt her contracting wildly around my invading cock. I grunted as I held myself deep inside of her as I came. I waited until our breathing had relaxed slightly until I finally slipped out of her. I kept her pinned against the wall as the water played along both of our bodies, enjoying the feel of the water on my skin.

I saw the look on her face as that wall of instinct kept creeping up on me. She understood that it was like the tide, there was no point in arguing or trying to stop it.

My eyes steeled over, and I'm good at looking mean. I cast my gaze down to her naked and now nervous/excited form. "Get down on your knees," I said. My voice lacked any tenderness or caring whatsoever. She didn't question me but merely nodded and sank down to her knees. Without word she ran her soft pink tongue up my hardening shaft experimentally for a few moments before almost gingerly taking me into her mouth. I grunted slightly when I felt her tongue and lips playing on my shaft.

I lowered my head to her hair and pulled on it roughly, not roughly enough to damage her but roughly enough to hurt a bit. I grabbed her hair and she compliantly relinquished control to me. I moved her lips over my member, thrusting my hips slightly to meet her face I drove her almost all the way down onto me. I forced myself deeper into her throat with every thrust. I ordered her to start rubbing herself and her hand played between her thighs while her other hand toyed with her breasts as I used her mouth. I reveled in the feel of her tongue toying with the shaft as I painfully used her face. She didn't resist, she merely moaned around my shaft and increased her ministrations on her own body.

I could feel that same familiar pressure building in my loins again, but this wasn't where I wanted to come. I pulled from her mouth and she gasped slightly as her air passage opened up. She looked up at me with questioning eyes as I stared down at her. I grabbed her and bent her down, she knew by now to get on her hands and knees, and she knew what was coming.

I knelt behind her as the water landed full on her back and spread the globes of her ass wide, revealing her puckered entrance. I pressed a finger into her ass and ordered her to keep rubbing herself. She complied and soon she was gasping and mewling as I worked my finger in and out of her. I grunted and placed my rejuvenated cock at her rear. Without any further warning I pushed forward, it took a bit of effort but I finally felt my head pop into her. She gasped loudly as I slowly but deliberately pushed into her bowels. Holding her ass wide apart as I did so. I dug my fingers into her as I began a slow rhythm in and out of her. Her hot rear passageway gripped me so hard that it was near pain.

It didn't take long for her to start meeting my thrusts into her bowels, and as my excitement increased a string of insults and curses spewed from my mouth as she submissively let me take her anally. I called her every horrible name in the book and all it seemed to do was increase the pitch and urgency of her sounds and make her press herself harder upon me. I grunted as began to really pound her. I reached down and around and savagely grabbed her breasts, toying with the nipples for a moment before taking them both between my fingers and twisting savagely. She cried out, whether in pain or pleasure I don't know. I didn't care, either. All that mattered to me now was that she satisfy me, and that's all that mattered to her.

Our bodies rocked together as I slammed into her so hard that her body could barely stay up. Her fingers worked savagely in and out of her cunt as I thrust deeper and harder into her as my second orgasm approached. I grunted, and grabbed her hair by the back of her head. Pulling so that she looked up towards the ceiling as I gave her one final, and severe thrust into her asshole as she gasped out her second orgasm. I filled her up and withdrew from her with an audible pop. She merely collapsed on the shower floor and lay there for a moment. It was a moment or two before she could utter the words "thank you, master". I grinned and stood, sated for the time being as I helped her to stand up again.

We stayed like that for a few moments and I gently washed her before we finally made it out of the shower. Watching her dry herself I felt myself getting aroused again and knew that this was going to be a long day for her.

 

It looked like he was gone from my life forever. I was so mad at Mom, I wanted to do anything to get even. The day I turned sixteen, I got my chance! In my state, sixteen was the legal age of consent and I packed some clothes and left. A girlfriend offered to drive me down to the other end of the state, where I intended to find work and live the way I wanted to. I had saved up some money and rented a room at a sleazy motel and went out to look for a job. Just down the street from my motel was a gas-and-go type place with a couple of repair stalls built on one end. I was a little hungry and decided to go there and grab a hot dog. I knew I had to budget my remaining money and couldn’t afford to eat at a regular restaurant.

 

While I ate the hot dog, I watched the manager come out from behind the counter and go to the shop door. He stopped and told me I would have to eat the hot dog outside, since his cashier had quit and he had to try to get a car finished between customers. I smiled and said, “ You need to hire a replacement.” He looked me up and down and asked if I wanted a job. I stood dumbfounded and told him I would love to work for him. I told him I was new in town and needed work to live. He handed me an application blank and told me to fill it out. I sat in a chair in the shop and started writing. I figured I better not put my real age or former address down or he might think I was just some dumb kid and not hire me. I filled out the paper, using the name and address of  a neighbor girl who had just graduated high school. I  put my cell phone number on the form and handed it to him. He asked if I had ever run a cash register or a credit card machine. I told him I had worked in a video rental store last summer and would be able to do the job if he showed me the way he did things.

 

He hired me on the spot and told me to be there in the morning. I asked if I could stay and help him out now. He thought a minute and tossed me the register key, telling me to ask him if I had any questions. The rest of the day went pretty good, with me asking him only a few things regarding credit repair bills. When the night shift girl came in, he counted the register and congratulated me on not being short. I started to walk back to my motel room and he asked if I wanted a ride, since it had begun to rain hard. He pulled the tow truck around front and told me to get in.

 

On the way up the street, we passed a steak house and he asked me if he could buy me some supper. He said the way I counted out the change to pay for my hot dog told him I was hurting for money. I told him he shouldn’t go to any trouble for me but he insisted. We ran from the truck to the entrance to the restaurant and went inside. After only a few minutes, we were seated and a waitress taking our orders. The manager, whose name was Paul, told me he ate here quite often and they always managed to find a booth for him. We sipped on iced tea while we waited for our meals and I found out that his  last name was Abbot, the same as my real name. I listened as he told me that he and his ex had divorced almost seventeen years ago. He had never remarried but he had dated a few times. He added that his ex had kicked him out after he confronted her about having a boyfriend. He knew that he had a baby, but had never seen it. His Ex had married this jerk she was seeing and never asked for any support. The waitress brought our meals and we continued to talk as we ate. The longer we sat there, the more this talk was getting into private details. The thing that struck me was that this man sounded so much like my real dad it wasn’t funny. As I said, I looked much older than I was and he just talked and talked about his past. While he talked, he called his ex by name and I almost choked. Her name was the same as my mom’s and the rest of the story was starting to gel too. Mom did have some guy as a husband when I was growing up, but he divorced her for cheating on him too. To try to make sure of what I was thinking, I asked him about the guy that his ex had married. He told me he was a roofer and had fixed their roof and must have helped himself to her as payment or something. I asked him if he remembered the guy and ever saw him again. He said all he remembered was that the guy’s name was Ed and they lived upstate somewhere. I became convinced this man was my long lost real father but didn’t say that because I had lied to him on my application.

 

He dropped me off at my motel and told me to be ready in the morning and he would pick me up. I went up to my room and took a shower and stretched out on the bed to read a magazine. The noises out in the breezeway told me this wasn’t the safest place to be but I had no choice until I could find a better place. The longer I though about this probably being my father, The more my mind started going in all different directions. I had always wondered why Mom and my real dad had divorced but she would never talk about him. I really liked him after talking to him. I just had to think of how to get out of my little lie I told him. I lay back on my pillow and soon was sound asleep.

 

During the night, I began to dream about my dad. In my dream, I was standing in this beautiful home and was kissing him, only not as a daughter would. We were locked in a very passionate embrace and kissing each other deeply. I woke up and realized my hand was under my panties and I was soaking wet. I glanced at the alarm clock and saw that it was after midnight. I got up and got a drink of water, brushed my teeth and set the alarm for five in the morning. I would need to be showered and dressed before my dad picked me up at six. I dozed off and began to dream again about my father. I dreamed we were making passionate love in the same big fancy house. Just as the dream was getting good, my alarm clock went off.

 

I hurried through my shower and dressed in jeans and a nice sweater and hurried out the door. He was just coming down the street in his tow truck and stopped to pick me up. We swung into the restaurant parking lot and he told me to go get some breakfast with him. As we sat in the booth, a waitress came by and left fresh, hot coffee for us while we looked at the menu. Dad looked at me and asked what I was paying for my room in that place. I told him and he looked me in the eye and told me he had a spare room that I could use for free if I wanted to. I started to say no but he insisted. After I thought about it, it would be a good way to be close to him for the first time in my life. That evening, after work, he took me home and helped me carry my things to his truck. We headed down the road towards his house. When he turned up his driveway, I almost fainted. It was the same house I had dreamed about. He opened the front door and helped me carry my stuff in and put it on the bed in the room next to his. He told me to put my stuff in the drawers and hang my clothes in the closet. I needed more hangars and went looking for him to ask him if he had more. As I walked past his room, I glanced in and saw it just as in my dreams. I found him in his little den working on his computer. He turned to me and cleared his screen. When I asked for some hangars, he told me that there were plenty in his closet and to help myself. As I turned to walk back to my room, he went back to his computer but told me he was ordering pizza for our supper. A while later and the doorbell rang and our supper was delivered. I had finished putting my few articles of clothing away and joined him at the table.

 

After supper, Dad told me had to finished the books for today and said for me to get comfortable and watch some TV or slip a movie in the VCR. I looked through the shelves of movies and noticed a few adult titles but chalked it up to his living alone for so long. I found a good action movie with Stallone and settled onto the big leather couch. After about an hour, he came into the room and settled onto the other end of the couch. He was carrying two beers and offered me one. I took it, knowing that I had only drank beer a time or two before this. I asked him why he hired me and offered me a room at his house without even knowing me. He told me that he had wondered the same thing but for some reason, he liked me and didn’t want to see me living at that motel. He said that it was a place for local hookers and druggies and it wasn’t safe for a nice girl. I was a little tired and relaxed from the beer but wanted to stay up and be near my father, even though he didn’t have any idea who I was. Finally he said he had to get to bed and that I could stay up if I wanted. I said I needed to get to sleep too, since we would be getting up in the morning real early.

 

That night was a night of more dreams and when the alarm went off, I woke up realizing I had been exploring myself with my fingers and again, was soaking wet. I heard Dad knocking at my door and telling me that breakfast was almost ready. I opened the door and told him I would be there in a few minutes. He looked me up and down as I stood in the doorway in a short nightie that barely covered my butt. I started to gather my clothes and take a shower and he told me to do that later, so my eggs wouldn’t get cold. I told him I didn’t have a robe and should dress. He said not to worry about that and hurry to the kitchen. I hurried to the bathroom and then went to the kitchen and sat in the chair he had placed my plate at. As we ate and chatted, I kept feeling like he was mentally undressing me. My breasts were pushing hard against the nightie and my nipples were getting hard. Part of me was amazed that he would be interested by someone my age and part of me enjoyed having him looking at my chest. Every once in a while, while we ate, I gave him a big smile and pushed my chest out to watch his reaction. He told me to hurry and get dressed so we could go.

 

I finished the last bites and started to pick up my plate. He told me to go ahead and get ready, that he would do up the few dishes. I headed off to the bathroom and jumped in the shower. I hurried through the shower and toweled off my short hair and realized I had left my clothes in my room. I slowly opened the door and looked up and down the hall, then ran to my room in just the towel. As I entered my room, Daddy came down the hall to use the bathroom. In my haste, the towel unwrapped and gave him a quick glance at my whole side, completely naked. I pushed the door open and closed it behind me, reaching for my clothes laid out on the chair by the bed. I dropped the towel on the floor and stood admiring my nude body, holding my breasts in my hands and turning from side to side. I hurriedly dressed and put on a coat of lip gloss, then rushed out to where he was waiting. We walked out to the truck and climbed in. He did a radio check with the shop and started to work. He asked if I had slept well and I answered that I had slept like a log.

 

That day was slow at the shop and even gas sales were not that busy. I spent some time cleaning shelves and stocking them. He told me that it was the midnight clerk’s job to stock but I told him I hated to just sit there doing nothing. He told me that I could come in the shop if I wanted so we could get to know each other better. I finished stocking the soda coolers and walked out into the shop. He was bent over the fender of a car, finishing up an oil change. I came up and leaned over the other fender. My shirt was loose enough that I know he got a good view at my breasts and the lace bra holding them. He asked me a few questions and I answered as well as I could, without giving away my little secret. I would have to run to the front every time a car pulled up but managed to find out that he had not even dated for over two years and had buried himself in his work. It was soon time for shift change and for him to close up the shop. I helped him carry out his briefcase and other papers and then climbed up in the seat of his tow truck and waited for him. He told me that the shop was closed the next day and I would be off to, since the weekends were covered by other cashiers. He stopped at the same steakhouse and bought dinner for us. I sat across from him, studying every inch of his face and noticed he was doing the same.

 

After dinner, he asked if I would like to see a movie with him, since we didn’t have to get up. I said that would be great, to which he said he needed to go home and change. I told him I should also freshen up a bit if we were going out. I decided on a skirt and sweater. The skirt was short, but not vulgar and the sweater clung to my 34B breasts. I put a tin drop of perfume in some strategic places and slipped on a fresh pair of panties. I had already decided against a bra. We walked out and instead of taking the tow truck, jumped into his Corvette. As I slid in, he was able to get a glimpse of my lacy  white panties but didn’t let on he had seen anything. I smoothed out my skirt and settled back in the black leather seat as we roared off into the night.

 

We went into the theater just as they were lowering the lights. As the movie started, I leaned over closer to Daddy to let him get a whiff of my perfume. During the movie, I put my hand on the arm of the chair, only to find his already there. I put my hand on his and left it there a few minutes. We were in a sparsely occupied area of the theater and I put my hands on his strong upper arms and whispered in his ear, thanking him for the movie and dinner. He reached over and patted me on the leg, saying it was his pleasure. After a while, I figured it was time to move and leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He turned to me and our lips met. I probed his lips with my tongue and put my hand on his thigh. We lost interest in the movie as we began to explore each other. I felt his hand working down my leg to the hem of my skirt and he began to push it up a little. In short order, he had my skirt up and my panties were showing. I moved my legs apart so he could get his hand on my pussy. I took his free hand and slipped it under my sweater to let him know there was no bra in his way. His big strong hand squeezed my breast and lightly pinched my nipple. His other hand was working beneath the lace of my panties and soon was rubbing my clit. I was turned towards him and slipped a hand onto his crotch and felt him fully erect. He was much larger than my former boyfriend and I wondered in my mind if I could handle such a big cock. I had unzipped his jeans and was stroking him, when I looked around to see if anyone was looking and put my head into his lap. I licked his cock head and let it slip inside my mouth. By then the movie was almost over and he suggested we go back to the house where it was private. I agreed and straightened my clothing while he zipped his jeans. We hurried out and to the car. I just minutes, we were in the driveway and headed for the door. He unlocked it and, as soon as we were inside, relocked it and turned to me, pulling me to him. His hands were under my skirt, cupping my buttocks as I ground my pelvis into his.

 

We decided to go to his room and take advantage of his king sized bed. As I undressed, his eyes were riveted to my body. I stood in just my panties while he stepped out of his jeans and slipped his polo shirt over his head. I slowly worked my panties down over my hips, baring myself to him. His cock was hard as a rock as he slid his shorts down. I dropped slowly to my knees and began to suck his cock, taking it deeper than I ever had one before. He dwarfed my ex-boyfriend’s cock with his shaft and I could feel it against the opening to my throat. I suddenly felt him pick me up and deposit me in the middle of his bed. He began covering my body with kisses, slowly working towards my virgin pussy. My back was arched and I began to moan softly as his tongue probed my slit. I moved and pulled him closer until I was sucking his cock again as his tongue probed my wet pussy but not deep enough to enter. He moved away and got in position over me, guiding that hard cock towards me. I realized that this the point that I was going to loose my virginity. I whispered in his ear that It might be a good idea to put a towel on the bed under me. He raised up and said ”You mean you are still a virgin?” I shook my head yes and he smiled saying he had never had a virgin in his life. He got up and ran to the bathroom, bringing back a thick bath towel. I raised my hips and he slid it under me. He also had brought back a tube of K-Y, saying it might make things easier. I expected him to get right down to business but he had other ideas.

 

He began kissing me up around my neck, working  his way lower. As he began kissing my breast, he stuck out his tongue and began tracing a line with it across my body. He licked down the front of my right breast and circled the nipple, being careful not to touch it. He then moved to the left side and did the same thing. Then he traced a line under each one, ending up in the center between them. He slowly licked a line down my tummy and circled my navel, again being careful not to touch it. My breasts felt as if they had grown two sizes after he licked them and my back was arched high off the mattress. Daddy then licked down the center of my tummy to the top of my hairline. I was well trimmed to let me wear bikinis but the center was still fully grown. He licked my pubic hair without actually touching my skin, then worked along the hairline to my left leg and followed the crease between my leg and body. He moved my legs apart and ran his tongue along the crease, avoiding my swollen lips. His tongue traced a line past my pussy and circled my rectum, working in ever tightening circles until I felt his tongue flickering on the tiny opening. What happened next absolutely blew my mind. I felt his tongue working its way into my ass. He began running it in and out as if he were fucking me with it. He had my leg pinned back under his arm so he could get to me. His finger was rubbing my clit, driving me absolutely wild with desire. He then began to run his tongue up the other side of my pussy but still had not put it inside my pussy. He flicked it across my clit and then retraced his path back up towards my neck, still not touching my nipples. When he got to my neck, his cock was against my soaking wet pussy. He stopped to spread some of the K-Y on his cock and then ran his fingers the length of my slit. He guided his cock to my still virgin pussy and gently pushed. I was so wet from the last several minutes activity that between my natural fluids and the lubricant, the head of his cock easily spread my lips apart and started in. I could feel the pressure against my hymen as he continued to push. As he pushed a little harder, I felt a stinging sensation as the fragile membrane parted. He immediately stopped and held very still until I had become used to the feel of his cock in my pussy and then slowly sank the full length of it inside me. I could feel it pushing against my cervix as it hit bottom. He again stopped moving for a few minutes, then began to slowly move in and out of me, withdrawing until just the head remained inside me. My hips began to respond by rocking slowly, matching his thrusts. I held his strong arms and began to rock faster and faster as he began to move in and out like a piston. I locked my heels behind him, holding him inside me as I suddenly felt my insides tighten and the first waves of an orgasm began to build. Dad sensed my oncoming orgasm and began pounding me faster and faster. Suddenly, I felt his body tense as he started pumping his sperm deep inside me. It was enough to take me over the top and in my excitement, I screamed out, “ Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Fuck my pussy, Daddy!”. Daddy froze and jerked his cock out of me, asking me why I would call him Daddy. I lay there for a minute and finally looked up and said, “I’m your daughter, Lisa!” I love you Daddy and I don’t care if you are my daddy, I want to make love to you every night.

 

Daddy looked down at me and asked why I had done this. I told him that we had met by sheer accident and that I put the pieces together the first night we talked. He told me that I was to old to be his daughter and this must be some kind of trick. I assured him that I was just a few days past my sixteenth birthday. He said he found it hard to believe that some young girl could be as good as I was in bed. I got up off the bed and walked to my own room and picked up my purse. I walked back to his room and pulled out my ID card and a couple of old photos. One was of him and Mom right after they were married. Dad looked at them and finally believed me. I asked if he was going to send me away. He sighed and told me that he would allow me to stay if I never, ever called him Daddy at work. He had to finally admit he had always wondered about me and now that I was here, he would never let me go. He did tell me that he underwent a vasectomy right after I was born and that we could fuck as often as we wanted. With that. I pulled him down on top of me and we spent the rest of the night making love in every possible position.

 

I have been with him for over five years now and still live with him, more as a wife than a daughter.

She was a tall brunette with long beautiful legs and eyes to match her great smile. She had shoulder length hair that was shinny and silky looking; she was very beautiful and had a great looking body. Her breasts were poking thru the fabric of her blouse like little tips on a pencil. Her eyes were big and brown and sparkling.  As soon as I composed myself we got down to the interview.

She had all the right qualifications and lots of work experience, she was almost to perfect.

Needless to say I hired her and she was to start in a couple of weeks.

I was anticipating the day when she walked thru the door and I could look at her in a different light and not fantasize about her. She was very easy to look at and would almost take your breath away.

She worked with me for about a month and she was a good dependable employee and we became friendly. I also noticed a lot of the employees (male) hanging around her before work and after work. They were all asking her for dates and trying to get her interested in them.

One night when we were closing we decided to have a drink at the neighborhood bar.

It was a very interesting evening and full of surprises.

 After a few drinks the conversation turned to everyone hitting on her and her sex life. She told me she wasn’t dating at the time and just blew most of the advances off.  She did say she was very sexual and liked to try new things.

Of course the conversation started to get deep at this point. I wanted to know what she meant. As the drinks flowed and we became more relaxed she explained herself.

She said she had this fantasy of being with two men at the same time and maybe more if she liked it. She also said she had a experience with another woman and wanted to try a man and a woman at the same time.

I must say at this point I was as horny as hell and wanted to taste those beautiful lips and more. I asked her if she would like to go back to the office and talk where it was private.

Of course she said yes.

As soon as we cleared the front door we were locked in each other’s arms and started kissing. Her lips were sweet and the kisses passionate. Our tongues were exploring and tasting the sweet desires we had for each other. We started  tearing our clothes off to get to the bodies we had longed for the past few weeks.

I had my hands in her blouse and started pinching her nipples thru her bra. She moaned with delight and I took her bra off to expose two beautiful breasts. I couldn’t control my self any longer. I started playing with her tits and sucking her nipples. She said she wanted me and someone else to suck on her tits at the same time, that really turned her on.

She said if she went on a date and he touched her breasts she was all his, it didn’t matter who he was or how old. She was putty to his touch and would do what ever he wanted. (That’s another story in itself).

I sucked her tits as my hand found its way to her very wet pussy. Her panties were soaked and I could tell she was ready as her hand rubbed my hard cock. I wanted to feel her lips on my hard shaft and she wanted to taste my cum. As she undid my pants and they dropped to the floor she went down also. She started to lick my balls as she stroked my hard cock; the pre cum was coming out the head as she placed it on her lips. Feeling her soft tongue on my rock hard cock made me ready to explode. I wanted to enter that sweet pussy but she wanted to suck my cock.

All the time this was going on she was telling me all the nasty things she wanted to do. She asked me if I minded sharing her with other men. She also wanted to know it I had any black friends that would fuck her. That almost made me laugh, as everyone I knew talked about wanting to fuck her. I told her that and she started to cum with my fingers in her wet pussy.

I lifted my fingers to my nose and the smell of her sweet juices made me want to eat her. 

I lifted her to the desk and started to eat her pussy, it was the best pussy I ever tasted. I tried to get my tongue as far as I could inside of her to clean her out. I had her cum all over my face. She said let me taste my juices and pent down to lick me, this woman was incredible.

It was now time to push my cock inside that tight wet pussy. I pushed her back on the desk so I could watch my cock enter her. I fantasized about watching her get fucked as I slowly pushed in and pulled out. What a feeling and a huge turn on watching my wet cock slide in and out of that tight pussy. She started asking me if I wanted to watch her get fucked hard by someone else and if I suck on her tits at the same time. She was really driving me over the edge. At last I felt the pressure build in my balls as she yelled fuck me harder, drive that cock in my wet pussy I want to be your slut. I slammed into her and finally let lose of a huge wad of cum. She screamed I’m Cuming too don’t stop fill my pussy with hot cum. As soon as I released my load and pulled out she dropped to her knees to clean her cum and mine off my cock. This is a real slut and I loved every minute of my time with her.

As I slumped over her body she whispered in my ear, can I be your slut. What could I say but yes, I can hardly wait to watch her and the surprise in someone’s eye. This is where the real story begins.

She looked all around the bedroom and finally came to the wadrobe i was situated in, she opened the door and saw me there with my shorts down holding onto my hard cock, " what are you doing here she hissed", i looked into her eyes and told her the truth hoping it would calm her down, she stood there still nude and told me how if she told the family i would be in so much trouble , i was nearly in tears but then she did something im never going to forget,she grabbed my stiff cock pulled me out off the wadrobe and started going with me, it felt so good to be kissing her.

She led me towards the bed and i led down in anticipation, she got onto the bed and led opposite me and starting sucking on my nob licking up and down the shaft and cupping my balls with her hand, i felt like i was in heaven as she put all her effort into making me cum suddenly i felt my balls tingle and i exploded into her mouth, she lapped it all up.

Then it was my turn i put my face towards her breast and licked all around her hard dark nipples, then i started to suck on one off them and i got a warm liquid roll over my tongue, she was lactating oh my it tasted so good.

I looked up at her face and she looked so happy, i made my way downwards and got to her hairy puss, i shoved my face into it kissing and licking at anything in my way, she sqealed and moaned as i did this, i put my finger up into her tight gap and fingered her for all she was worth, before long she went stiff and went into a major orgasm moaning and screaming as i got a face full off her juice i lapped it all up and then stood up i wanked as fast as i could and shot my load onto her swollen belly.

I then gave her a big kiss, thanked her and went off towards my bedroom, i thought to myself " What have i just done?, Why did it fell so good?, Why do i want more?". I led down and fell asleep and when i woke up my other cousin was peering over me informing me the barbacue was ready, i looked at her, smiled and thought to myself "should i risk it haha".

The End

Friday morning and my boss calls in to say he's stuck at the airport and could I attend the Department Heads meeting and take some notes for him to review later when he arrived. I usually hate these meetings, because I'm not the dept head and I'm also a women I get the feeling something is going on that I'm missing.

Today I was especially horny. My husband had rung last night and I had finger fucked myself while talking to him. Then the line had dropped out and he hadn't called back and I hadn't got off. Now I was in the conference room with several attractive business men any one of which I'd fuck if they gave me a sign. Various dept heads talked about sales and budget forcast and I dutifully took notes as I scoped out potential sex partners. The meeting went on forever and was about to take a break for lunch at a nearby restaurant and they were just about to ask me when my boss walks in and crashes my invitation. He grabbed my notes and told the others they could bring him up to speed over a few drinks.

A few drinks and I would have been anyones for an hour or so. Hey I was so worked up I would have done lap dances for them all. Now I'm back at my desk trying to rub my pussy but every time I start I get a phone call or someone enters my office with stuff for my boss but he's not here so can I do it. Finally I got so fed up that I left the office to go home and drill myself with the dildo I kept for emergencies just like this one.

Turning into my street I could see my daughters car in the drive. "Shit" I swore wondering what she was doing home at this time. I drove past the car and found a spot a few houses away. As I walked back to the house I was really starting to boil, here was another road block on my way to a self induced orgasm. I nearly lost my balance as the footpath met the front lawn. I put my hand on the bonnet of the car to prevent my fall. Oddly enough my brain thought "the bonnet is still hot so the car has only been here a short time." Then I noticed that Kristy had failed to lock the drivers door, again. Lastly I could see her bag on the back seat sitting next to the distinctive blue and red bag of a student from the towns major all boy school.

Now I knew my daughter wasn't a virgin. We had had the mother / daughter talk a number of years ago and she was taking the pill. The number of times I'd gone to do a load of washing and smelt the pungent aroma of sex wafting from her underwear made me jealous because of the amount of times she was getting it compared to me.

I let myself in as quietly as possible, leaving my bag and jacket by the front door, and made my way to her room. The door was only partially closed so I could see most of the bed. Sure enough she was in there with a boy. I didn't recognise him but he was sure tall and handsome. He already had his shirt off and his chest was tanned and muscular. Strong arms from broad shoulders. Definitely a swimmer I guessed as my hand made its own way to my breast and began to squeeze till the nipples popped up.

Kristy decided to really turn him on. She reached down and unzipped her skirt and pushed it down her hips and kicked it off as it hit the floor. She stood still, just staring at him, then she started to undo the buttons to her blouse as she walked around him. When she stopped in front of him she slid the blouse off her shoulders exposing her lace encased breasts. Her breasts were filling the cups and  straining against the fabric.

Undoing the front clip Kristy had her bra open as she lay on the bed and the guy was working her breast like I was as he stood beside her. She reached for his belt and released his straing cock from his trousers. Whoa, I thought, what a cock it was maybe eight or nine inches long and as straight as a gun barrel. My pussy began to tingle at the idea of that cock in my cunt instead of my daughters.

I was surprised by the look on Kristys face as if she had not seen this cock before now. "Oh wow," he said in appreciation of the work she was doing on his erect member. Her hand took control of his cock and massaged it gently. With her free hand she pulled his pants down to his knees. He then lay back on the bed and allowed her a free rein. She happily jerked his penis with one hand, while she was running her sharpened finger nails over his balls with the other.

I stood and marveled at the lack of hair on his body, most definitely a swimmer. It made him look so smooth and slick. Kristy was obviously turning him on as well as me. Her next move had pure pro written all over it. She stilled his waving cock and bobbed her head, her full lips encircling the cockhead as it disappeared into her mouth. I could even feel her tongue manipulating his cock, even as she bobbed up and down on it. She looked well practiced.

By now I had stripped off completely, standing naked in the hallway, watching my daughter give this hunk the blow job to end all blow jobs. Then from some part of my brain which was beyond the lust that was controling me I remembered my husband saying recently that my BJ was the second best BJ he had ever had. But he always used that old Maxwell Smart line about something being the second best so I just disregared it as a joke till know. Had my husband got treatment like this from our daughter?

The grunts and groans from my daughters partner swung me back around as first one finger then another entered my pussy. Kristy was swallowing about half his length and keeping a firm grip on the rest. He was really working up a sweat and his body glistened under the room light.

"So you getting naked?" he asked

"Mark, I'm sorry but your cock is so big I.. I.. I don't think I can take it." Kristy stammered

"Hey, I paid good money for a fuck and I'm going to fuck some hole." he said angrily

"What if you just put some of it in?" whispered Kristy

"Fuck girl, if the head goes in and the rest will slam in behind so you had better be ready to scream." said Mark with an evil grin.

My daughter was in a "tight" spot to coin a phrase. Mark was starting to reach for Kristy and he was between her and the door. It was at this point that "reason" stepped out for a smoke and I acted purely on instinct. I threw open the door and stood there proudly in my naked glory. Both sets of eyes were on me as I walked straight to the bed and straddled Mark. I reached for his cock and lining it up with my hole I slammed my full weight down and drilled my cunt as deeply as I had ever done.

His hips bucked hard and fast against my naked ass and I let out a low, lust-filled grunt of pleasure with each penertration of his cock. My tits swayed back and forth with the rhythm of his fucking, slapping together with a meaty sound. He squeezed the firm cheeks of my arse with both hands, pulling my body forward to meet his up swinging hips.

"Oh, my lord. Be a man and push it all the way in there!" I was flying high with excitment. I was fully impaled on his erect cock. Sensations were rushing through my body as he continued to fuck me. I was loving it. I let out a choked squeal, as he pumped himself into me. My enthusiasm only served to power him on even more, as he pounded into me with all of his might, lifting his arse off the bed to maximise each thrust.

In one motion he pulled out and flipped me off him. Before I could say anything he told me to turn over. I was eager to do as I was told, and did so immediately. He stood by the bed and lined up behind my arse, and forced the head of his  cock between my wet cuntlips. He was not gentle, slamming his cock in with one deep thrust. Although my vaginal passage was slick from our fucking this was a cock from a whole new angle and his weight pushed it in deep as well as me down into the bed.

His strong hands gripped me above the hip bones and he used all the strength he could muster to forcibly slam me against him with each stroke. His fingers dug deep into my flesh and he even slapped my arse once or twice asking me was I enjoying my self. I was nearly gone, my breathing ragged and perspiration was coating my skin.

"Still with me lady" were the first words he'd said in ages.

All I could do was nod my head. My matted hair hung across my face. I felt Mark withdraw his cock and I was expecting him to shoot his load over my arse.

"Now let's really fuck you," he laughed.

Finally it dawned on me with my sweet tight arse presented to him. With a grunt of pure lust, he stood behind me and roughly thrust his cock up into my puckered arse hole. I screamed out once, and I could hear Kristy telling him to stop but he told her to stand back or she would be next. My husband fucked my arse but he took it slowly till I was comfortable. At the moment I was far from comfortable but I could feel myself pushing back against him.

I wasn't a anal virgin, but his cock made it feel tight as hell. He knew I was hurting but that didn't stop him reaming my hole hard and fast. I had been fucked by other men before this. He seemed to take enjoyment from the full 8+ inches of hard cock he had to slide inside my arse. I was reduced to tears of extasy as this both pained and pleasured me. I gasped and shuddered as the major piece of meat filled my arse to the breaking point. I sighed, content to simply feel the full probing penis filling a spot which I had never before felt.

I could not believe the stamina of this young man as he assulted my rear end. My husband would have shot his load ages ago. He then began to alternate holes gripping his cock as it slid from my arse and then plunging it into my cunt. Several intense thrusts and then back to my arse for several more. By now I was face down on the bed, overloaded with sensation, I could no longer feel him as he continued to fuck me.

I struggled to beg him to stop. My voice barely a whisper. I had no strength left. I vaguely heard him call Kristy to him and then a forceful "do it". I wasn't even aware that she had left the room as he just kept slamming his cock into me. Then he pulled out and walked back around the bed. He bent over and picked something off the floor and walked back behind me and continued as before.

I heard Kristy come back in the room and cry out "No". I turned my head and cold see Mark holding his phone, taking photo's of my cunt and arse. I tried to rise but he placed one hand firmly on my back. He then hopped across the bed and positioned his cock at my mouth. I raised my head to give him a pleading look but all I saw was the damm phone snapping pic's of me giving him a BJ.

I thought he must have filled the memory on the camera because he stopped taking pictures and told me to lie on my back. Then he told Kristy to jerk his cock till he was ready to shoot. This took several more minutes when suddenly he pushed her away and grabbed his cock and sprayed his semen all over my face and tits. Then he said smile as he took one last shot.

Kristy was huddled on the old lounge chair in the corner and I was thoroughly trashed on the bed as Mark, wiped himself dry with the towel Kristy had gotten for him, got dressed. Neither of us able to grab his camera. He pulled out his wallet and threw a twenty on the bed. He thanked Kristy for the afternoons entertainment and promised to come back any time we wanted.

"Besides pictures are only good for jerking off." he said as he made his way out of the room and down the stairs.