Sep 222014
 

I didn’t want to turn a business contact into a fuck. I crossed the line a few months back when I let him shove his fingers in me. I’ve seen him once since then. I knew I wanted to fuck him. His situation was complicated. I didn’t know if fucking him would be worth all the bedlam it might cause. And would the actual fuck be worth it?

I had dinner with friends at seven. I already entertained the idea of calling him if my night ended early.

My night did end early. I sent him a text.

Me: You up?

I was nervous about the odds of him being dead asleep. My contact might be unwelcome. I doubted that, unless he was in a compromising situation. When my phone pinged right away, I was relieved.

Him: Yeah, out and about. What can I do for you?

Me: Do you want to fuck?

Him: Where you at?

Me: I’m in town.

Him: Off 73. 10 min.

Off exit 73. I could get there in ten minutes. I pulled up on his passenger side and got into the back seat of his Tahoe. I was anxious about whether or not to fuck him until the moment I slid my naked thighs across the leather interior of his truck. It was an imaginary line. I remembered why I was wet from earlier.

“What can I do for you?” He was in front, his elbow on the arm rest, looking at her through the rear-view mirror.

“Really?” I was snotty. He knew what he could do for me. He kept this door wide open. I shut him down. Well…

“Backseat, please?” I didn’t try very hard to hide my attitude. I knew he enjoyed getting the text. Admittedly, I was horny. Not just for sex, but sex with him.

The process was quick and dirty. My dress was short, and easily over my head. He took care of himself. I leaned down and kissed him. Lips forever and a tongue that belongs in my pussy. That’s what I think about when we kiss. I think of how much I want him to eat my cunt.

“I think you ’bout ready to get on this dick” His advertising was good, but how was the show?

I nodded and moaned. I didn’t expect to. It just kinda fell out. I lifted my right leg so he could feed me his cock. As soon as he was in position, I lifted up and sank all the way down, straddling him. COCK. Thank God… Cock.

Both hands, one on the bottom of each ass cheek. He bounced me up and down. He gripped fistfuls of my flesh on my ass and the outside of my thighs. He slapped hot, red marks on my ass. That’s his move. I enjoyed riding him. The head of his cock is beautiful and the perfect rim told my pussy exactly when to stop sliding up and when to drop back down and fill back up with him.

The show was worth it.

I cleaned up, slipped my dress back on, and thanked him.

“Thank you? Oh that’s how it is?” He teased

“You know…… Besides, I shouldn’t have done this. And don’t say anything to anybody.” I was serious, but trusted him.

“Pssshhh…. You ain’t gotta worry about that.” He got out of the back seat and into the front. He tightened up his collar and glanced back to me through the rear view mirror.

“Ain’t nobody tryin’ to ruin that lily-white reputation of yours.” He huffed.

“I’ll call you.” I slid out of the Tahoe.

“I’m sure you will.” He was trying to keep the conversation going. I wasn’t interested. I just wanted the fuck.

Without responding, I cranked up and pulled out.

Wicked Wednesday

Sep 162014
 

Kate noticed the trucks unloading next door when she went out for the mail. She flipped through a doctor’s bill, a movie, and a card from Brian’s mother. She picked up a box that was on the porch and headed inside, surveying the envelopes as she went.

“We’ve got new neighbors. I checked the mail. You got a card from your mother. Hey, do you want to keep getting these movies in the mail or just order a different package through our cable people?” Her husband, Brian, turned the cooking fan off.

“What? I can’t hear a thing you’re saying over this whirling” Brian pointed upwards, as if the sound was coming from God and not the hood of the stove. Kate grinned and just shook her head. She and Brian were married for six years. He loved cooking. She loved being cooked for.

“Nothing,” she laughed.

Kate dropped the box off on the table. She took the movie and sat it near the DVD player and the bill on the desk. She left the card in the kitchen for Brian to open. Kate took out a box cutter from the junk drawer and drew it across the clear tape that held the box closed. Inside was a sex toy and a book.

“Is that something for you to review?” Brian looked back over his shoulder to her with a smile on his face. His voice was loud over the sizzling in the pan behind him. She frowned and tilted her head at the smoke. It was probably a good idea to turn that cooking fan back on again.

Kate glanced back down to the box and the book she was holding. The toy was from a reputable company. The rigors of a review would tell it’s secrets. The book would either be a good read or it wouldn’t. Easy enough.

“Yeah. It’s just work.” Kate was a sex blogger. She received sex toys from companies. She used them. She wrote about her experiences with the toy, and included an abundance of information about it. Kate put all of these experiences and knowledge out on the internet for people to read. Of course she used a moniker.

Kate used her blog to write about the kinky exploits she had with her husband. Brian was fine with it. He enjoyed participating in photos and flipped ideas towards her writing. Some posts leaked information about upcoming reviews she worked on. Some posts were strictly erotica. Her posts were automatically sent to Twitter, Facebook, and tumblr.. From there Google+, StumbleUpon, Digg, Reddit, and a few other media options.

She didn’t have an extortionate amount of fans. She was excited to have the fans she did. Some followers were happy to get a post update from Kate. Some had no idea she existed. She blogged for herself. If others found her amusing, wonderful. Kate was happy with her own little space on the internet.

***

A few tweets from Kate’s moniker were retweeted into Denny’s timeline. He started following Kate on Twitter. She reblogged some pictures from tumblr.. They excited him. A post from her blog came across his timeline. Denny fell in love with her blog. Kate wrote stories that touched him deeply. Denny really wanted to know more about her.

He subscribed to her blog. He read everything, new and old. He spent a few days rolling around in the ups and downs of Kate and Brian’s relationship. Part of loving them was realizing that he was alone. He didn’t know anyone that he could talk to about his feelings. He longed for the hands of another.

Kate and Brian were the only ones he fit in with. He wondered if they might feel the same way about him. He spent so much time getting to know them. He hoped they shared his excitement. He had so many questions for her, and Brian, too. He hoped she would be willing to answer them now that they were neighbors.

Wicked Wednesday

Sep 072014
 

“These numbers are wrong. These numbers are very wrong.” Karla’s eyes widened as they scanned over the account totals Abe handed her. It was 6:30pm on Friday evening. She had plans to meet friends for drinks, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Fuck!” She flipped quickly through the more detailed of information of each account. Karla was right. The numbers were wrong.

“Do you know who put these in? Fuck. This makes our team look incompetent. These go upstairs first thing Monday morning and they’re not going up like this, Abe!” Karla shoved the file back to him.

Abe was tall. He was muscular. His hair was more strawberry than blonde. Other than office candy, he was Karla’s guard dog. He was hired for his looks and his loyalty. He was hired because he knew his shot. Karla liked men who knew their shot.

“The team is gone. We stay and start from scratch. It takes us four hours, tops, both of us working.” Abe slowly sat down on the couch in her office. He was not looking forward to this. Neither of them were.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles on her desk. Her head dropped back while she waited for the situation to fix itself. It didn’t.

“We should get started.” He stood and groaned.

They worked for hours. Karla let her hair down. She took her jacket off. Her heels were turned on their sides somewhere under her desk. Abe ditched his jacket and tie. He flipped up his cuffs. Karla and Abe worked through every overlooked mathematical knot. The finishing touches were all that the report needed.

Karla had food delivered. After they finished eating, Karla pulled out a bottle of Jack she kept tucked away in her office for times such as this. She brought out two glasses, one over to him on the couch. They were close to the finish line. Karla offered one to Abe, which he gladly accepted. She curled up on the other end of the couch and gave her office a good looking over.

“This place is a wreck.” She groaned.

“Stop worrying so much. We’re almost done with this.” He casually reached over and scooped her feet out from under her and placed them in his lap, rubbing them gently as he spoke.

“We’ve highlighted every mistake. We’re going to make a huge pile of this mess and dump it on their desks. We’ll let them sort through their mistakes on Monday. You’ll send up the corrected numbers. Everything will be fine.” His hands moved along her ankles. They traveled back down to her toes and the balls of her feet.

She had never shared physical contact with Abe on such a level, but she was was not turning down his foot rub. It felt too damn good, especially given the stressful circumstances.

“That sounds good to me.” Karla took a long swallow from her drink. She was beginning to relax for the first time since the madness started. Abe was working on her naked calves now. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

Abe’s hands rubbed their way up to her knees. Karla lifted her head to look at him. She cocked an eyebrow and Abe stopped. He waited on any kind of direction from her. She chuckled and let her head fall back. That was good enough for him. His hands slid up her skirt and to her thighs.

Karla finished her drink in one big gulp. She set her glass on the table and spread her legs so Abe could have easier access. She leaned up and gently wrapped her hand around his neck.

“Do you want to eat my pussy?” Karla spread her legs wider. His hand could feel the heat from the top of her thighs.

“Yes, I do.” His eyes flashed in unexpected excitement.

“Good. As soon as those numbers are right, I’ll be sitting right here. Finish up.” She leaned back and let her legs fall open.

Abe sat back and let out a long sigh. He gently ran the outside of his finger run down the the inside of her thigh. His dick throbbed when he touched the silky border of her damp panties. He drew back and reached for the last few accounts left. He and Karla had straightened out the majority of the problems. He glanced over at Karla, then at the paperwork.

He totaled up what was left without doing the detailed work. Karla would never know. Soon enough she’d be smothering his face with her juicy cunt.

No one would notice the wrong number.

Wicked Wednesday

Apr 132014
 

Tommy was taller than me by at least a foot. He was solid. He was thick. I felt the time he put in at the gym when he pressed against me. I didn’t want to pull away. My body had nowhere else to go, anyway. There was no safe zone. I couldn’t get around him. I didn’t want to. We were face-to-face. I had to pay up.

He gently referenced kink. He had my attention. He knew it. My playful banter and coy responses, brought about his warning. He was no one to tease. My stomach dropped and my pussy convulsed. I wanted to tease him. I wanted to test him.

He was a regular at the bar. He kept to himself, but gave way to coy flirting and witty backcap. He gave as good as he got. The innuendos were quiet, even with the loud background and my business with other patrons.  All of the witty repartee siphoned out his dominant side. He knew I had an obvious understanding, but had chosen to teeter on the bratty side. I did so from behind the bar. It was a safe zone, mentioned many times. It was part of our game. I could tell it excited him. It excited me.

When Tommy stayed for more than his usual three beers, we spoke more in-depth. He couldn’t adapt to a vanilla relationship. And no relationship adapted to him. He was taking a break for a while. He went to the gym. He went to work. He came to the bar. Happy hour was very happy for both of us.

Some of his words sent me dipping out of sight. Hidden behind the bar was an unused kitchen. It stored two big beer coolers and the liquor kept in stock. There was never time to rub one out at work. Someone was always fucking thirsty. It did provide enough privacy to regain mental footing, if only for a moment. It was becoming obvious to him what was sending me running for cover. It amused him. I never expected him to follow me.

But there he stood. Shock stole my tongue. I looked up at him. He looked straight down to me. He was stoic.  I considered nervously laughing off my surrender. But the atmosphere changed, and I didn’t have any more witty remarks. He leaned down and filled his hands with the back of my thighs. His fingertips gripped tightly just above the shredded line of my cut-offs. He lifted me with up with spread legs and leaned his weight against me and the beer cooler.

His lips were fat. I wanted to suck one. I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away. I looked up at him, instinctually; my face questioning what I thought was his hesitance. But I didn’t see him. He caught my mouth the instant before. Those lips that I wanted to taste were eating me whole.

It wasn’t romantic. It had nothing to do with what I wanted. This person was who he warned me about. He told me that he was no one to tease. There was no safety of the bar’s depth between them. Three beers today. Tommy wasn’t thirsty. Tommy was hungry.

The thick seam from my cut-off jeans rode up in between the plump outer lips of my pussy. Tommy’s handfuls were kneading their way up to my ass. I got his lip, for a moment. He let me have it. He nosed down and bit my nipple through my t-shirt. He could have it. I was cock hungry. He could have pushed the panties aside and slid right in. Time wouldn’t have allowed for it, but it’s what I wanted more than anything in that moment.

I dry humped him like a flat-backing whore. He came back up for my mouth. I sucked on his lip, just like I wanted to do his cock. Then I bit it. I bit it hard. He growled and I let go as his body tensed against mine. He went for my neck. He licked it. He slithered his tongue over my throat so that his teeth would have a slick place to land and sink in. I wanted to cum. He bit my neck. He bit it hard. I pulled at the back of his t-shirt when his teeth sank in. My cunt jerked and spat.

I was cock hungry.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Mar 102014
 

Snow hillHer love for him was fresh and untainted. It was a sunny day with a hill of untouched snow. It was delicate. It was a pretty picture.

Their tracks went back and forth on top of the hill. They hung on to each other for better footing. Neither wanted to upset the fragile allowance beneath them. In time, steps became stomps and walking gave into a run.

On her way down, she felt a hand at her back, not one that offered aid. Her body cleared a path down the hill. The snow hid the branches that tore at her clothes. The slicked grass permitted her no foothold.

She slid. He watched from the top. He was stoic. She relinquished flesh and tears to the tumble. There was no pardon for her. It was inescapable. Every rock, branch, and punch of earth was a recitation of what she already knew; but had to live through to pocket the experience.

Be careful who you climb hills with.

 

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Mar 022014
 

I write dark. I write sinister. There’s a tone for it. My pieces are triggers if they are written well. My new ones, mostly and fully. I believe it’s because each write is a collection of thoughts that have grown turgid and vile in the dark. Also, I shouldn’t be allowed the latitude that I have in D/s and life in general.

Wish One – Become a Better Writer

I’ve hung from tripods and train tracks, but I really want to do more suspension. I just don’t get enough rope time.

Wish Two – Fly

Now I’m going to make a wish that’s not sexy. I was selfish with the other two. I’m not trying to get all “Miss America” in here, but I’d feed everybody. I’m not going to get political with it, but I’d fucking feed everybody.

Wish Three – Everybody Eat

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Feb 182014
 

TipThey had contact with each other through the internet for years. They were friendly shoulders during personal times. They were comfortable enough to reveal sexual secrets. He liked administering spankings. She preferred the receiving end. She also preferred an initial conversation and sexual teasing during dinner at a nice restaurant; followed by the actual encounter and an expensive gift. It made her feel like a lovely whore.

They had met once, in her car. It was a hurried encounter. He was paranoid and all paws. She enjoyed his roaming hands and drooling compliments.  She wanted more.

She walked in, spotted him, and dipped her chin to the hostess. She took her seat at the table and asked him if all the particulars were taken care of. He nodded nervously. She laughed softly and patted his thigh before picking up a menu.

She had the chicken. He had the salmon. The conversation of family, work, and kids flowed fluidly between them. None of what was said was new information, just updates. He’s trepidation was gone. Her touching and laughing was easy. She made it easy for him, too. The body contact was making him breathless. She felt his urgency to pay the check. They finished up and took to the room adjoining the hotel.

Entering the room before her, he turned, looking for approval. She smiled in assurance. He’d made good choices. Once she’d perched herself at the end of the bed, he brought her a tiny box, which she recognized by its light green color.  It came from one of the tiny antique jewelry shops in Five Points. They were peridot, in silver settings. She couldn’t have been happier. She was squealing. He was beaming. She’d mentioned the stone a few times in conversation over the years. He knew it would be a ringer.

She wrapped her arms around him with a big kiss and a whole lot of tongue. He was immediately anxious to have her. She turned her back to him and asked that he unzip her. When she felt the heaviness of the zipper fall to her waist against the thin fabric of her dress, she turned around to face him.

His eyes drank in the scene. Unzipping her dress and watching as she turned to reveal her breasts. He ran the back of his fingers along the side of both tits. Her nipples tightened. “Uuhh, That feels good.”  His eyes lifted to her face. She was squirmy. He grinned.

She turned from him and pealed her dress over her ass and surrendered it to the floor.  She took two steps in front of him so that he could fully enjoy the site of her naked ass. Afterall, he paid for it.

His cock was strong and appreciative. She locked her knees and bent her elbows into the plush sheets of the bed.  He pulled one of the chairs in the room over to the end of the bed. She felt his hands move up the backs of her thighs to her bottom. He slapped one of her ass cheeks and she arched back for him. He slapped her again, harder. He stood up behind her. She could feel his cock through his pants, between the cheeks of her ass. He turned to set on the bed. The slaps continued until her ass was hot.

Her pussy was wet and she needed to get off, “suck my cunt? I need to cum.”

He was more than willing, “fuck yes.”

They switched positions. She sat up at the end of the bed and he was on the floor, sucking cunt juice. She knew he secretly loved to eat pussy, but not be berated for it. He loved the smell of pussy on his face. He wanted to be surrounded by it. She leaned back and sighed as his tongue dug deep and made a mess on the both of them. He began sucking her clit and she pushed her pelvis against his face. Squeezing her thighs together and spreading them apart only spurred him on. Finally, her fingers found his hair. She lovingly ran her fingers through it. She whispered, “suck my cunt, Baby. Suck on my pussy.” She felt him prickle. She began to chuckle. They had fallen into an easy mode. They were comfortable enough to ask for what they wanted, and to tease. He stood up and looked at her, “You know I hate that.”

That didn’t stop her,”I couldn’t help it. You fucking make me horny. I feel like your whore.”  She was watching him strip in haste as she cooed her filthy words.

“Come suck my dick.” His hand was a port for his enraged cock.

She began shaking her head, “I’ve already told you that I’m not sucking it unless you shave it. It’s not shaved. You don’t even trim it!” She’d seen pictures of his cock and his cum. During many a conversation that turned sexual they had both sent pictures and videos of themselves masturbating. She’d questioned his lack of shaving and he was adamant about his natural look. She’d never sucked a cock with that much hair. She expected a mouthful of pubes and her inability to overlook it and give a good blowjob.

She hesitantly motioned for him to come closer. She took her time inspecting his hairy cock. Despite the hair, his skin was smooth. She ran her closed lips up and down his shaft. She enjoyed the feel of it on her cheeks. His moaning alerted her to his urgency. She eased it in, rolling her tongue around the head. His hisses were an unmistakable sign that his balls were heavy. She drove her face down on his dick. Her saliva mixed with his hair. She almost gagged and pulled back.  His hand was in her hair before she could come off of his cock. He pushed even more of his hairy dick inside her mouth and she let out a little squeak. He began to pump her face.

She could taste pubic hair, his engorged cock, and the precum leaking from it. She was irritated that he was face fucking her. Her cunt was on fire at the same time. Her hands massaged his heavy nut sacks. His thrusting deeper and deeper led to a goopy mess of cum and hair all down her throat, on her face, and even on her lips and dripping onto her breasts.

He was squeezing out what was left in his cock onto her tit while he laughed, “There’s a first time for everything.”

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Feb 052014
 

Dead GirlCatching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked to where he was sitting. She wasn’t even supposed to have her friend there, but Marie was almost her sister and how in God’s name was she supposed to go through this without her? She could also give her Mother some closure if this all went South, God help.

It was cold in Jersey. She was dressed to a tee thanks to Jimmy. She was wearing a big warm fur from Jimmy. And she was wired to the fucking gills thanks to the fucking FEDs. She was also going into Jimmy’s place. Jimmy’s place! She tried to tell the FEDs that they didn’t have nobody inside there. They kept insisting that they did. Fucking FEDs.

Angela was a girlfriend. Angela also processed a certain amount of coke that she’d recently been busted on which gave the FEDS reason to wiretap her phone. They got Nicky on everything from Conspiracy , Racketeering, down to fucking jay walking. So she rolled. Now she’s a rat. Now Nikky’s gonna kill her.

When she finally sat down across from him, she knew she’d hit a lucky. He was high as fuck, all fidgety and shit. She moved real close and shushed him, “Hey, hey, Baby…what’s wrong?” The waitress came by and Angela waved her down, “Scotch! Two triples!” Angela went right back to tending to Nicky. “What’s got you so worked up?”

Nicky kept sniffing and coke checking his nose. “The fucking FEDs, that’s what.” Angela had tried to tell those fucking FEDs. She told them that they didn’t have nobody in here. Nicky would find out. When the drinks came, Nicky downed his and asked for another. Angela’s kisses and cooing were a benefit to the drinks. Nicky started to notice Angela more. Her legs, her lips, her thighs.

Nicky watched her smiling at him, closed out his drink, and took her hand. “Upstairs.” She followed him, knowing that undressing was a bullet she couldn’t dodge. Coming into Nicky’s room above the restaurant meant that the FEDs couldn’t hear her through the interference in the walls. They were trying to get the audio feed back up.

“I’m getting in the shower. Be naked and ready when I get out.” He was already closing the bathroom door as he said it. She’d never stop with the Hail Mary’s if she got out of this one. She stripped, pulling cords and wires everywhere. She shoved them in her bag and it under the bed. She was naked when he came out in a towel. He smiled gently, dropping the towel. He kissed the inside of her ankles before he snatched her to him.

He slid inside her with a deep breath and a grunt when his cock fully landed. His hold on her ankles loosened as he slid his grip up her legs and tightened on the top of her thighs. Her back arched while his body slammed against hers. Nicky always was a good fuck.

Angela’s body started to shake and Nikky pinned down both of her wrists. He leaned down close to her face, “This is my pussy. It doesn’t belong to anybody else, especially not the FEDs.” Angela’s body was already squeezing and manipulating around Nicky’s cock. She couldn’t stop. “Nicky spat the words at her,” Come on, cum for me you dirty whore.”

And cum she did, right up until the moment that the electrical cord tightened just a little too much.  Nicky let her body slump back, flat against the bed. He put his pants on and hit a button on the phone.

“Hey, I need a couple of guys to deal with a thing. Ok. Yeah.” Nicky put his shirt on, buttoned up and looked at Angela’s body on the bed. He slid in one cufflink at a time and shook his head. It was sad. Angela always was a good fuck.
Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Nov 182013
 

Cigar SecretsShe gingerly sifted through her Mother’s personal belongings. She and her sisters had taken to the task since the funeral. Their Mother had a treasure trove of secrets. Mother dated cigar boxes, along with a small accounting book of all the money that came in and went out during that time, and how it came in.

Each box had given new life to old whispers. The sisters stumbled across information hidden to them,   but well organized, since before their birth. Some of the records and family information dated back over a hundred years. The girls found property deeds, and notes to places where money was stashed around the house. She cooked the books for more than one business. Unspeakable and illegal acts and consorts; their Mother had kept it all buried from their little eyes.

Mother was cookies and cornbread. She sewed and called for the laundry. She also laundered money and moved some packages for some “friends of hers.” The girls did recall having many “drop-by” Uncles, bringing gifts and baskets of chocolate.

The three of them were giving it a go together with a bottle or two of wine, seeing what else their Mother had been up-to all these years. Each began with a box. Donna took two. Everything was ‘something,’ her dictation regarding who had given her the expensive and sentimental items in her jewelry box and closet. Some of the names, they’d heard mention, even as children, or in college.

She sat back and wondered if the devil just ripped out her Mother’s heart. She couldn’t put herself in her Mother’s place, but she was her child, and she was loved by that woman. She might carry sins she didn’t understand, but she was a good Mother.

Her sister nudged her, and then smiled. She’d drifted off on a silent rant. She reached for the next piece of paper in her box. She began to read mindlessly out loud.

 

Dear Mother,

I left with him. I’m pregnant. We’re going to get married. We’ll be fine.

I love you,

Donna

June, 1978

 

 

Donna,

Bring me the baby and you can come back.

I love you,

Mother

July, 1978

 

…. She was born in December of that year, …and her sister was crying.

 

See who else is being wicked this Wednesday

Wicked Wednesday... be inspired & share...

Oct 062013
 

BeetleThe blonde put a strain on the already squealing brakes of her old VW Bug. A busty girl with a hell of a tan ran out of a house and slammed the screen door. Sunglasses bobbling, the back of her thighs slid across the worn leather seat. She loved that summer sting on the back of her thighs.

“Tell your Mama you’re sleeping over?”

“Yep. You?”

“Yep.”

Second gear stuck, but it was summer and they had opportunities waiting.

Two little redneck girls sashayed into the “Modeling Agency” at two O’clock. They gave the receptionist their names and re-glossed their lips. A few minutes later out popped the man they were supposed to meet. That Rick guy. He was all smiles. He ushered them into his office. It was ornate for a strip-mall business. He arranged to have his receptionist take one girl away to get a polaroid while he spoke with the other.

The busty girl walked into the room with music pumping through the speakers. She walked to the “X” in front of the camera. The receptionist informed her that at this agency, they want you to smile and take pictures of your best assets. She said that The Agency liked for it to be a fun experience. It was, for a little while. The music was loud and she was dancing. The receptionist played her part. She put her chips in. The girl never saw the pictures, but they were all polariods, and they all went into a file marked 74.

The blonde had been in his office answering perfectly normal questions about scheduling around shoots and traveling mixed in with the personal information that he actually needed. She was the one who volunteered their alibi for that very night, thinking it was a funny quip, funny indeed. After her interview, she was unknowingly asked questions about her friends, boyfriends, school, medications, family, money, etc… He had to end the interview with her. History Completed – File #75.

They switched girls, but the situation was exactly the same. Only the file numbers were different.

When everyone filed back into Rick’s office, the two girls sat in the chairs facing his desk. Different men began entering the room, keeping silent, but taking place. He bumped eye contact between different men around the room and the girls.

The air was heavy with excitement and naivety until Rick broke the silence.

“You’ve both been selected to enter The Agency.”

He explained to them about The Training House that they would both be moved to immediately. Once they graduated, they would be available to The Academy Slave Block, where each of them would no doubt bring in large sums of money, bringing pride to both The Academy and The Training House.

That was it. Both girls were obviously confused. Their attempts to interrupt were thwarted.

As soon as Rick stopped speaking, four of the suits took hold of the girls to escort them out of the office and into the vehicle that would take them to the house.

The blonde girl screamed as she wrestled with the men that overpowered her, “This is NOT what we signed up for!”

Rick chuckled, set his drink down and slid off the corner of his desk. He sauntered over and pinched her cheek forcefully.

“I know. I signed you up for it.”

 See who else is being wicked this Wednesday…

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