Behave

Old story, new location:

We were leaving one of your shows after a long set. It was really late and you were driving because I had had too much to drink. We were in one of those older model cars with the bench front seating and I was lying down with my head on your lap, moaning pitifully about the throbbing pain in my head. It was a long drive and you were upset, because I had promised to restrain myself enough to share the ride home.

I asked you to pull over so I could throw up; I asked for this a couple of times and the ride was taking much longer than it should have. We stopped at a gas station so I could freshen up, get something to drink. When we got back on the road, I dropped my head into your lap again and tried to go to sleep.

Maybe it was the ridiculously late hour, maybe it was my hot breath on your lap, maybe it was my groans every time the car was jostled by pot holes, maybe it was thinking about having to do the eighty mile drive home yourself—exhausted in the middle of the night, maybe it was my hair splayed all other your thighs, but you made a quick decision to pull off the highway and into a rest stop.

I was surprised that we had stopped so soon again. You got out of the car, walked around the back, and opened my door. You told me that I was going to suck you off, right here, right now. I was still lying on the seat, moaning and dizzy. You grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to sitting, taking my hands and depositing them against your belt, and ordered me to unbuckle it. I started to, but my coordination was off and I fumbled around a lot. I got frustrated and gave up altogether.

You were furious, yanked me out of the car by my arm, around the door and threw me over the hood, pushed up my dress. I was a mass of polka-dots, black taffeta, and warm, flushed skin; my ass covered by only a sheer stretch of red satin, my legs splayed a little. I moaned and tried to get up. You shoved me back down and told me that if I threw up on the hood of the car, you would make me bleed. I quieted quickly, but kicked at the front fender. You pulled your belt through the loops, doubled it, and lashed it across my panties. I squealed and kicked some more, harder. Your belt came down again and again and again, making my ass glow and ache. I was screaming for you to stop, but your rigid palm was pinning me mercilessly against the hood. I was sobbing and sore, but wet, too.

You stopped thrashing me and grabbed one of my cheeks roughly, squeezing it hard until I yelped. You pressed your lap against my ass, dragging your rough jeans, scratching across the fiery pain. I moaned. You grabbed my hair and pulled my ear to your mouth, licking my cheek and telling me that you were now going to take what you wanted. I nodded, breathing hard, and you pushed my head back down against the car.

You traced the line of my panties with your fingers, from the damp underneath to the elastic top, tearing the thin material easily and pulling them away from my hips. I heard you unzip the fly of your pants and push them down, I felt your hard cock crushed against my hot, bruised cheeks; you spread my legs wider and shoved yourself into my soaked pussy. I chewed my knuckles to keep from crying out when you grabbed my hips and pressed your thumbs angrily against my sore ass. You ground into my slit, hammering me until my juice leaked down my legs and I was moaning your name, loud and frenziedly. You trampled me against the car, pounding your dick brutally into my sopping hollow. I was breathless and lightheaded, close to tears with desire. You reminded me that I was not to cum until you told me to; not yet, bitch. I groaned and you pulled out, grabbing my neck and dragging me from the car, forcing me to my knees in the dirt before you.

I looked at you, even in the dark, you knew I was afraid, but overtaken with lust; I would have done anything you asked, anything you demanded. You grabbed my face and pulled me against your thighs, rubbing your cock, dripping with my scent, into my hair and against my mouth.

Suck it, woman.

I did; hungrily swallowing you into my throat, panting and violent, wanting all of you, more of you.

Slow down, slut, you said as you slid your fingers into my hair and yanked me back. You fucked my face, your cock sliding deep and angrily into my mouth, my saliva was trickling down my neck and onto my breasts.

Such a good girl. You were close and I was careful.

Swallow it, baby. I nodded eagerly, sucking you faster and deeper, wishing I had been good enough for you to cum in my slutty, soaking pussy. I stroked you with my tongue and you pulled my mouth all the way down on your dick; I choked when you gushed into my throat, but you held me there, your cum dripping from my lips and down my chin. I swallowed and swallowed, clutching your thighs and moaning quietly. You let me go and I dragged my hand across my chin, wiping everything into my mouth, wanting more of your taste.

Get up. You picked me up by the arm and helped me back into the car.

If you’re a good girl, I’ll take care of you when we get home. If you’re not, I can take care of that, too.

Bring Back the Caveman

Nothing can ever be uncomplicated. The problem with getting involved with intelligent men is that they are fucking intelligent; I miss those guys I dated in high school. Their needs and desires were fucking simple! Give 'um sex or food, and they were happy. Never let them find out you're fucking someone else, and they were happy. Shut up during any sports event, and they were happy.

But no! I had to get all uppity and shit. I had to say, "Hey, these guys won't do for the long haul because they bore me to tears!" So, you get involved with intelligent guys and your shit just became 1,000,000 times more intense. You're never fighting about what you think you're fighting about; there is always some aspect of manipulation on both your parts, so you feel like you are playing the game on two fields at once. Fuck, you're playing two games on two fields at once. And one of those games, you've never heard of before!

Why can't I just be satisfied with the simple one that carries my shit around and kisses me for bringing him submarine sandwiches!?!?!

Collars

Sigh. I know what yall are thinking. I know! Shut up and let me explain myself, though why I have to is beyond me.... Well, not really beyond. I do feel like a total hypocrite in some ways, but in other ways, I sorta wanted this. And here's why:

1. Those of you who have watched me go around and around with J realize that I am looking for something to attach to; I've done this arrangement thing before and part of me really gets that I need to feel attached to feel open.

2. JB asks the right questions; I don't really know why, but he managed not to let shit slip between the cracks, not to shrug it off when I tried to manuever him away from sensitive issues. That's something I wanted.

3. There's no expectation. We both have our own lives and I don't have to think about a realistic future.

4. He doesn't want me to change, to be some lame-o sub that shuts up and does what she's told. And he hasn't limited my experience by asking me to solely speak and play with him. He wants an involvement, recognition, but not to hinder. Play is a huge part of my journey and I still get to have it.

5. Why not? Fuck you. (Okay, maybe I am still a little defensive.)

All in all, I want to give it a shot. All this talk about barriers and shit. I can talk and talk, but if I don't try to really look at them and actively take them down, then I am just standing around helplessly, hoping they don't come crashing down on my head. Yeah, I've been hurt before but I can be resilient.

And as a wise soul has once said to me, "Fuck it...it's only cyber."

No Take-Backs

Okay, okay. I'll stop copin' out and write a real entry. An update on that last real entry. I was right; everything has changed. It's funny too, that this should come about now. I'm not a garden troll, you know. The whole summer long, I had been getting praise actually. And lots of it. People telling me how really beautiful I am, how I shouldn't change a thing. It was starting to weird me out actually. I'm used to having one or two enviable parts. I was telling J about the time one of my old bosses (I used to nanny for rich yuppie moms) tricked me into picking her up at the plastic surgeon so she could have my lips photographed. But something happened this summer, and for once in my life I was really feeling pretty, desired.

And then those words came out of his mouth and everything changed. Everything. In a moment. You can't take back something like that. I feel disgusting. Now, when we go out together and he puts his arm on me or he kisses me, I can't help but think of his words. Somewhere in my mind, I remember that he's repulsed by me. And I know that's a strong word, but somehow it's all blown out of proportion in my head. I don't want him faking it anymore; too much of our relationship was faked. I don't want him touching me, kissing me; I'm embarassed now.

I keep trying to balance it in my mind, you know? I think, I could have had two other guys this weekend alone and more than willingly. I could go out tonight and find someone in my car on the way to someplace. I could have women, if I want (who are by far, much pickier). But it doesn't really matter to me. All this time and energy and ridiculously hopeless love was put into B; but it doesn't even matter. We're never going to have a normal sex life. All these hopes I had just sank sank sank until I can't even find the ripples they left. And what now? Together and some weird sort of sexual arrangement? Apart and without big pieces of my heart? I really don't know, not anymore.

SSC Story Contest Entry #2

Well, I did what I could. See whatcha think...500 words is nuthin'!!! Sigh, sigh, sigh.

Making Conversation

He crushed her angrily against the wall, his large hand stamping her shoulders, driving her into the plaster. She gasped short-wicked breaths, the heat from her mouth echoing back against her lips. She fidgeted, growling as he slapped across her thigh, indulging her naked skin. She ground against the wall, curling her fingers deeper into the paint.

“You never say you want it here,” he whispered, tucking his face close to her own and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. She whimpered, closing her eyes.

“But here,” he hissed, scratching a hand down her belly, over her mound to her drenched slit, “Here, slut.”

He stroked her. Guitar. Flicking and plucking until she hummed, buzzed. She cooed, her chest pressed against the warming slab of drywall. His knee slipped between her thighs and she opened like a curtain, feeling him press up and against her, pinning her here, to this wall.

“You want me here?” he asked, his fingers slithering back up her stomach, her breast bone, his knee locked securely, her wet heartbeat hammering his thigh.

She said nothing, her breath trapped.

Without another word, his hand closed around her hair and he yanked hard, dragging her face down the wall. She cried through her sealed lips. Removing his knee, he yanked harder until her back was bowed deeply, her face lacquered to the wall with tears. She winced, her shameless craving for this displayed obscenely.

“What do you want, slut?” he asked, smiling nastily at her. He clutched a fistful of her hair and held her against the wall, capturing her ass with his free hand, groping, pinching, crushing her delicate skin between his cruel fingers. She whined, blinking away tears, blinking away words.

He glared at her, screwing up his face against her inability to ask for it. She would beg; he was sure. Nodding to himself, he smacked her furiously, covering her cheeks and thighs with a heavy-handed, meaty thrashing. His fingers knotted deeper into her hair, tugging at the words in her.

She howled.

He heard nothing; she said nothing. He darkened her skin, bruises concentrated. His handprints butterflied out from her dripping fold. He was not methodical, but obsessive, devoted, covering every inch dozens of times. She gasped, choked.

As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. He touched nothing, made no sound.

She choked on her tears, on her breath, on her words. He watched her, her body twitching convulsively. It was jarring, like when the bell in the tower stops clanging, both unfinished and too silent. She shook her head like an animal, confused, enraged.

He waited; touched nothing, silent.

She started to stand, slowly, but he didn’t stop her. She bent again, head falling between her arms, growling miserably. She chewed the words inside her mouth, ground them anxiously between her teeth.

“What is it that you want, slut?” he asked softly, lowering his face to her own. She breathed heavily and turned to him, her eyes frantic.

“I want more.”

SSC Story Contest Entry #1

n and I have been talking a bit about entering this contest. My biggest problem has been in the word count limitation. I typically don't write stories with less than 1,000 words. So, this has been hard. I thought I would start by entering the Mini Saga since it would put me in the mindset of fewest words. English teachers have told me that I get too flowery, too verbose. Fuck them! But, J does say I talk too much. Here's my entry:

(Untitled, 2005)

He could see flowering across her ass, purpling staining, smeared and blotched, bleached white skin like inked linen. Her tears were worthless, but this veneration, her plaque flesh, an etched apology with a vicious cane. She wouldn’t forget this soon; when he slashed down fiery lacework, she knew his artistry.

Masterpiece, Master.

On Worth

I'd been meaning to have a conversation with my boyfriend about this for a while now. All this, the journey, and his place in it, by default. See, he's vanilla...well, not in the sense that he doesn't like to play, but in the sense that he only plays sporadically, and for me. And so I had been telling him for a while that at the end of the summer, I'd need to have this conversation. Well, the summer is ending...

I had been giving him websites to research, places to chat, and telling him to ask all the questions he wanted. I tried to explain to him about how huge this part of my life is, especially right now. How it is so much more than a couple of smacks before a blowjob, or what have you. We talked tonight, but as per usual, the conversation was much bigger than I thought it would be, became about our relationship niches and about our attraction to each other. I feel more lost and helpless than I did before we had this conversation.

I was at my mom's house for the last week and the other day, I went to visit my father's grave. He died over ten years ago, when I was just a child. I am the only one who goes to the grave now. It's too far for his family and my mother and brother get really depressed being there, so I am the only one. I hadn't been in over a year; certain holidays pass to make me remember I haven't, and I feel guilty. So, having a free morning, I picked up some flowers and went.

When I got there, a woman with her young daughter was sitting on a folding chair a few feet from the grave. I couldn't look at them; they weren't sad, or angry, or hollow. They didn't know my pain. I grabbed the thorny weeds from the edges of the stone marker and yanked them out, and that pain felt good. It was intense, it was alive; it wasn't a dull, fading ache like my father's death. It wasn't the knots in my shoulders and inky blackness from watching my brother try to kill himself over and over. It was fresh, intense and so agonizingly real. And I wanted more of it.

When I drove away from the graveyard, I called my boyfriend, but he wasn't awake yet. I drove to a tattoo parlor thinking I would get another tattoo or piercing. I couldn't, for the life of me, find the place I remembered. My boyfriend called back but I didn't pick up, twice. Desperate and frustrated, circling the buildings and growing more agitated, I called him back. He knew I was upset and I told him, "Sometimes I don't want to be the one who carries the torch; sometimes I want to let them go and be strong for me. But they would never do that. And now, all I want is pain."

He knew; he understood.

And the feeling didn't go away. For two days I thought about how to get that pain. I thought about how easy it would be to fuck it away, to cut it away. But I didn't do that. I was holding out the hope that he would figure it out for me, that when I said to him, "I need pain," he would tell me he knew and give it to me. But it didn't happen like that, not exactly anyway.

Tonight we talked about lots of things, but in the end, all we realized is that he is uncomfortable with himself and he is no longer attracted to me physically, if in fact, he ever was. And this hurt, more than I wanted it to. I told him, "When you decide we won't fuck for weeks, even months at a time, it means I am not worth the effort." One thing I have learned about the D/s relationship is that it takes effort, and a tremendous amount of it. But that's why submissives love it and will gladly give control over to another person: we want to know that we are worth it.

And I am no longer worth it. It's all that stuff I was dreading hearing; I felt so ashamed. I wanted pain and more pain, but I am not worth that to someone else. When he went to sleep, I began to cut it away. Everything that I had mistakenly thought had value: my intellect, my sense of humor, my pretty face, my desire to put his needs ahead of my own, the way I helped him through difficult situations, the times I have been so insanely anxious and fearful for him, every single thing that I thought he might think gave me worth. But it wasn't enough anymore. The cutting.

You see I have to be careful, have always been careful. When you do something like this, you have to do it in a concealed place and not too much and not too often; you have to watch the details. Can't do more than a dozen or you would look really unbalanced if found out, can't do them so deep they reopen later and cause messy, unexplainable stains. I dribbled lime juice from my beer on them and it burned so bad; I was shaking. It was that pain I was longing for. But it was too fleeting.

I am not saying this to make him feel responsible for my actions; I am writing all this so that I can understand myself. I am a fucked-up girl and have been for some time, but I am trying to fix that. It doesn't always work out the right way. I don't always have all the answers and I am not expecting someone else to have them either. I don't know what I am saying, just that I am saying it. And that's better than before.

I don't know where we are now, but after tonight, I can't go back and unhear it. I can't go back at all.

IRC High

So, we've all said it at one time or another. IRC is like high school. I have been at my childhood home for the past couple of days and here are a few excepts from several notes I saved from highschool. These were written by various people. Thought you might enjoy:

"...I just saw Justin on my way to English. He borrowed my blue pen. It's not even mine. Mine got switched with someone's same pen. Except the one I ended up with has the cap chewed on. Eww! He's gonna be sooo-ooo grossed out. Oops! Oh well. So, we have detention together? Good timing!..."
--Tiffany

"...Everytime I look for you, I can't find you. Are you a Turk? I like that word. Next time you see McDonough, tell him Nicki likes him, but don't tell him who told you. K? You better not tell him I told you. What's so big about yours and Nil's thing about the pets? I promise I won't tell Nils...."
--Gina

"...I'm stressed. Justin and I are poopy...we may be breaking up, or may be broken up, I actually don't know. Isn't that retarded? We got all screwed up. We need to take this to a non-serious level and just fuck or something.... Gilbert is going to catch me with this letter.... I have a burning itch--no, desire (that sounded like a vaginal infection, huh?) to run through the halls throwing condoms. Don't ask.... Are you concerned about my mental health yet?..." (Sidenote: Especially appropriate to me right now.)

--Tiffany

"What the fuck is THAT you ask? Well, you know how I went to my mom's office on Friday? I went to the supply room and just stole stuff...."
--Nils

"...me and Sarah were gonna do an April Fool's joke on our religion class. We were gonna go around back and and bang on all the windows. All we did was look through them. So, then we ran around to the front and made helluv noise and the whole building shook. When we got inside, we were all, April Fools! and we were laughing. But no one else was. They were all like, Go away loser! Everyone was like, crying and talking about people being killed by drunk drivers...."
--Paige

"....Justin is trying to persuade his daddy to let him spend the night. Are you sure it's okay?... I have to go to Planned Parenthood at five.... You can give me my much needed SAFER SEX talk. Or possibly an abstinence lecture. Babe, I'm gonna turn your beautiful home into a brothel for the night...." (Sidenote: She did, and Justin puked on my livingroom couch! Awesome.)
--Tiffany

"...So I started seeing him at school everyday.... Today, at break, he walked me to the crosswalk and then, before he said goodbye, he asked me to go out with him. I said, Yes and we kissed. It was so cool....Ok, well I've gots-to-go now. I'll see you in computers. I (heart) Matt!!"
--Lisa

"I am so fucking pissed at you. My life is over because of the things you get yourself into. Do you know what's going to happen to me?... I'm grounded for a month because my dad is pissed that his shotgun was confiscated...I've lectured and lectured you about this stuff! Were you even listening?..." (Sidenote: Since I have no recollection of this incident, it couldn't have been as bad as it sounds...but then, I have NO recollection, so maybe it was.)
--Alexis

"...What math are you going into next year? Algebra II/Trig? I know you are. You're smart. You actually take notes. Well, you kinda have to though because you sit right in front of the witch. I really, really, REALLY have to piss!!! This class is boring. Do my nails look fake?..."
--Tiffany

"...Let's see--what can I write about? Oh, I'm not totally anal anymore--only a little bit. I found out last week and last weekend that a lot of my friends do drugs and have had sex and that kind of stuff. And you know what?!? I didnt give a shit. Don't worry--I'm not gonna ask you what you've done since I don't want to know...."
--Nils

Okay, so there it is...all the petty relationship crap, the deviance, the brat antics, the bad timing, the gossip, the immorality, the prudishness, the clicks; it's IRC and high school in a nutshell. Bring back memories?!?

Court TV Boredom

I am soooo bored! Oh my God! I totally gave my friend a seizure and so now she has to recooperate, which I totally think is necessary, but I wanted to see her like, non-stop and now our plans have to be changed. It's okay, especially since it was at least 50% my fault, what with the late night binge drinking and all. But now I am trapped in my mother's house with nothing to do but dig through her confidential files looking for my birthmother's name and watching CSPAN on mute. Let me tell you, it's atually less dull that way.

Additionally, I've spent many hours harassing J, on the telephone and with inane text messages, until he decided it would be prudent to fly out to California to beat me senseless with a frozen chicken...his words, not mine. I know...he's totally vicious, right? His depravity rating is a solid 21% today. It's just hard not to annoy him when I know he's holed up in his apartment in his man-panties getting funky with Miss Newton-John, while he scrubs his countertops obsessively. Okay, maybe those were my images and not necessarily the facts, but you know what I mean. He's tired of my antics and shut off his phone; can't say I blame him. Bored, both of us.

So, I have done very little by way of productivity and have to say: been lovin' it. No curriculum, no writing to colleagues, no responding to college admissons people...totally useless days. If I didn't think he'd really smack me around with a two-by-four like he's been promising, I would mail my calender and phone numbers to J to let him make the calls for me. I am so wretchedly lazy!!! I will be thrilled to get back home to a fucking cable internet connection and long hours of solitude; I promise to spend my first day writing a new story. Why did I write this down? Oh, yeah. Bored.

Fucking Status Quo

So, for those of you that have, in some way, been following this delightful roller coaster I call my life, an update: Now, before I start, let me premise this with the fact that I am not altogether sure if I am satisfied about where I am. It appears that, having moved through being totally pissed, as I am want to do and as quickly as possible, we are back at the beginning again and faster than ever. Those first hesitant conversations replaced by more direct, lengthy discussions about nothing more than trapping us in a place of togetherness. Is this a good thing? Probably not, because it means we are quickly careening back toward unhappiness, toward being locked in stagnation, unable to move either forward or backward. I won't get into details, but I feel like a bulimic at times, going, "I'm not purging, I'm just sick." Am I sick?

I am in the Bay Area right now, visiting a girlfriend who is planning on leaving shortly for a year abroad. I hate it; I hate the fact that I won't be able to see her when I want to. Granted, in the last year, we've probably physically seen each other like, six times, but I like to know that I can. It's funny how the way you are with one person is the way you are with all people. And it seems like I am a girl of convenience. I want my friends available when it's convenient; I'll make it worth your while in those moments, I promise. So it has fallen upon me that it's an entirely selfish thing to squeeze them into my life, but I guess I have, in return, only really kept the friends that are able to pick up after long absences as if it were yesterday.

I don't know what this is about, but I think it's relevant to my problem here. I think that I need to work on being able to close, to end more permanently. I'm not sure if it's right, but I do know that I have little ability to hold a grudge, maintain sustained anger, or wait out people that don't acknowlege hurting me. Is it really resolution, or am I just numbing out?

Always Circles for Me

I don't know why I am in a poem mood; maybe the elusive language is so unverisal that it can say what I am going through now as it did when I first wrote it, but not tell you anything. Because I don't want to tell you anything, but I want to tell you everything. And if it can tell the same story now as it did years ago, where is my progress? Where am I learning? New pain, old pain. Same pain, same day.

Sugar Sweet Sugar Girl

You bought that pink popsicle dress

with it's sticky sweet bows.

The zipper whistled alarm

as it slid down your back.

You pucker with tension because you want him in you

But your brow pulls tight with disapointment.

And you punish yourself

because you think it's your fault.

So you hang up your dress

with it's drippy, pink sash.

And you clean up your legs and in between

And he licks his fingers and warms his hands.

But you're cold.

Lucky You?

So you found a girl who will suck you off
While humming your mother's lullaby
But she treats you good and rips you off
And you're empty while she swallows.

Daddy's in the backyard shooting at the truck
Desperately wishing on your lucky star.
She shoves the swollen nail into your coffin
As you come so she can leave.

The Present by Way of The Past

Some poems from my past that have been on my mind, in this circle:

Medicate, Medicate

Daddy give me the pill
The round one, the white one
I am having my own thoughts again
You know my thoughts.

Somewhere in between actions
I see the reflection
The blonde curls are gone
And the scars are deep.

I'm shivering and bruised
I miss my beautiful lips
I am having those thoughts again
Daddy give me the pill.

The Good Night

I wonder what of it you realized.
With your eyes wide open
And what can you see?

XY, xy for an end

I'm pretending I'm not primitive.
I'm tired of thinking.
I want to turn inside out
and wipe off my feelings like sticky shoe gum.

Maybe I am not like you.
Maybe I'm not complex and
maybe I don't hurt myself to make you smile.

But I can be quick and I can be sly.
And I can bleed
and you will cry.

Leap Tall Buildings

I suppose little has changed in a day, but I feel compelled to continue to document this moment for myself. Seeing what I don't want has reminded me that I must now draw lines about what I do want. When I play, I never choose. I never pick, I never say I want...just, I don't want. No cuddling, no hugging, kissing or intimacy. The reasons are both transparent and complicated, really though, not integral to this conversation. But ask me what I want and I say, "I want to please; I can play anything, any implement, no limits. What do you want?"

What do I want?...

I want someone enduring. p is right; it's a long journey and I know that it is a ride that, in this case, my case, cannot be started over and over again with different people. The transformation will only come when I can trust. And so I must have someone committed to the length, the pitfalls, the break-throughs and the break-downs. I want someone who can know me, see through the barriers that I build high and thick.

I want someone simple. I want them not to be fucked-up, or at least, be able to put their fucked-up aside for me. I want someone strong, both physically and emotionally. Someone who can hold me down and push me up. Someone I can learn from, who can teach me about feeling--when it is appropriate, how it happens, how to push through, having experienced all elements of feeling. I want someone smart enough to out-talk me and smart enough to shut me up.

I want someone gentle, someone disciplined, someone fearless, someone protective, someone ruthless.

I need someone who is not intimidated by my ability to manipulate, to bullshit. I need someone who is reassuring, who casts no judgments on my needs, wants, desires. I need someone who wants to be pleased, who has clearly defined boundaries, who will remind me, encourage me, punish me if I can not meet them. I need someone who can be superhuman, demand me to meet my potential and persuade me it is in my best interest. I need someone to show me the way, to make me find it on my own, and to celebrate with me when I do. I need someone to make me put down anything beyond my control, anything that isn't mine, and anything I am still holding for the sake of not letting go.

It seems impossible. A tall, tall order. Time will tell.

Journey Dreams

I have been getting very little sleep lately. Couple of hours here and there, really sucked into the journey, hardcore. So I shut it all off after my last blog entry and went to sleep and I had this dream. Just now. I never think my dreams really tell me anything, but here it was:

I was teaching in this new school, which was really a refurbished older school, only my classroom was laid out like a bedroom. There were these women who came, that used to teach there years ago. They were wise and independent and secure, felt like some sort of role model to me. I felt young agian; they talked about legacy and giving back to the next generation now that they could. And I listened and was inspired.

And one of the women, who was actually this teacher I had in tenth grade (she was probably a new teacher the year I had her but has been in education for about ten years now), told me she used to have my classroom and that she loved the fireplace. I smiled at her, thinking oh, I must have missed the fireplace. She wanted to show me, wanted to see the space. So we went to the room and she started telling me about how the classroom used to look, informal still, but bigger and older. It had been made smaller, more efficient and standardized, and the fireplace taken out. She remembered lots about the room, even the things in it. She showed me a notebook that she used to write in, and I found a place where she had written about me (only I had confused her in my dream with this older girl who had met me at a concert once) and so I dug through it. I realized I had written in this book, too. I got excitied and started to read.

She disappeared but I had more questions so I went looking for her. I got a rental car and went to LA and found some of her friends, some of the women from the school. One, the leader it seemed, had a shop, a book shop with the word Spank in the title. And I saw how she was so relaxed about it, and I felt good. I got back in the car, trying to decide what to do. And I got back out and started running, heading for San Fransisco...but it was a long run and so I went back for the car, not sure if I wanted to go or stay, my house or my childhood house. Which was home?

So I drove, fast. Like I always drive. And then I started up this ramp into a parking structure. But I was going too fast. And I knew there was a curve at the top, so I tried to brake, but this car, this car I was too young to have rented and knew it, was out of control. It flew up and off the building, flipping and spinning slowly. And I thought of the consequences; and the consequences were that someone was going to be angry that I was underage, my licence would be gone and I wouldn't be able to go to work, everything was ruined because I went looking but didn't know where to go. And as it was flipping, moving so fast into the air, so high, I left it, was thrown from it...sailed higher and higher until I knew that I wouldn't live once I hit the ground. But I couldn't face the end, that end. And so I forced myself awake.

I knew the second I woke up what I had been dreaming about. It. This. The journey. About the people who were there before me, about how it had been different for them, but only a little. About how we shared the same thoughts, how my thoughts were there before I even knew it. About passing it on, making it easier for the next person, about shame and pride. About confusion, about being alone and wanting to not be alone. About choosing between the past and the present, the old me and the new me. About not knowing which was which, or which was right. About trying to make endings, but coming at them too fast, too chaoticly, not ready to slow down. About owning my descisions and consequences. About worrying about the right things...my feelings, mine. About making a decsion to continue or end it. About which is the right one.

I am not sure about the clarity part. Can I tell you wether or not I can continue? No. But I do realize that when I shut it off, my brain, my body...something keeps looking at it. Trying to make sense of it, forces me to remember, if even just where I have been and where I am now. So, that's something. I think.

In the end, they're rocks.

Well, I'm fucking done. Done, done, done!!!

I just can't keep being this fucked up girl in these fucked up situations. I might, no I will regret saying these things tomorrow, but I have to write it now while I feel something, especially if that's FUCKING anger. We talked in circles; we lived in circles that are getting smaller and smaller. It's faster to get back to the beginning--to feel like I've fucked up all over again. But why am I fucking here?

The woman who started me on my path last year made me walk through a hot field, being chewed alive by mosquitos for hours with a backpack filled with rocks. Forty pounds at least and I trudged through those grasses, crying and miserable, feeling the weight of every single stone, every burden that I have carried for someone else. And she asked me to come back and say, "I am ready to put this weight down." Don't come back until you can say that. I walked for nearly an hour, sobbing and kicking and sweating and I came back with a smile on my face. A fucking smile! How sick is that? I was furious at her for making me do this, I was furious at myself for carrying these rocks for every other person's burden, but I fucking smiled. God forbid I upset her with my feelings. I was forced to turn and keep walking.

And I promised myself I wouldn't forget that feeling, yanking at my shoulders, making my lungs burn and my muscles ache. But I forgot. I started this journey realizing that I needed someone to help methrough. Someone to take the weight from me and say, "You deserve a chance to carry only what is yours. I will take them from you, I will make you give them up. I will help you stop picking them up in the first place." I thought I had gotten close to that; I mean the fact that I could even approach someone about it is miracle enough. But somehow, I fell back into that pattern. I opened my bag and threw a few more in and he had the sense enough to end it, and I had to masochistically pick it back up. Why do I let myself have half-things? Why do I think that's all I deserve? Everything only half-ready. I say, "It's okay. It's a work in process. We can fix it. I can fix it." Someone fix me! Enough is enough already. Put the fucking rocks down. Say you're ready and mean it. Stop fucking smiling.

So this time, I need it to be over for real. I have to stop feeling like my needs are a burden; that's how I got here in the first place. And he's taught me that in this crazy, mixed-up way, while I circle back around. This time, I will cry and I will say, "Enough. I want to put it down." ...And it will be okay and the world won't fall apart; I will have faith that I won't be alone again for long. If I can do it, if I can tell myself I deserve more and believe it, then I will be a little bit closer to whole, closer to just me, alone and weightless.

Hot Stuff in Pleated Pants

Ben uncrosses her fingers and spreads her legs with his hands.

If I were a switch, would I make you let me do this?

Ben slides his fingers through her pussy lips...

Yes.

Ben begins rubbing, massaging her clit. lolalane shivers...well, that's mighty forward of you, buddy.

Mm, yes, I know.

You think you can just do that?

lolalane crosses her arms and looks at him. Ben slides a finger inside her panties, letting her moisture fill between his two fingers as he slides them inside her wet snatch.

UM. YES, I DO.

TAKE MY FINGERS INSIDE OF YOU.

lolalane moans. Ben puts her hand on top of his.

PUSH MY HAND DOWN!

NOW!

lolalane remembers what she's doing and slaps his hand away. lolalane steps back and goes to sit down. Ben grabs her cheeks and looks her in the face.

LISTEN.

YOU DO NOT EVER TOUCH ME UNLESS I SAY YOU MAY, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

lolalane finches. lolalane nods. Ben grabs her pussy with his whole hand.

THIS IS MINE. DO YOU GET THAT?

lolalane winces. lolalane nods. Ben squeezes.

TELL ME.

Owww.

WHO’S PUSSY IS IT?

Yours Sir.

Ben squeezes HARDER.

WHO’S??????????

lolalane scowls.

ANSWER!

Grrrr.

Yours Sir.

Ben slams his two fingers back inside her snatch. Ben grabs her hand and puts it on his again.

NOW PUSH DOWN ON MY HAND.

NOW!

FORCE THOSE FINGERS INSIDE OF YOU.

lolalane groans, and pushes against his hand.

Yes.

YOU LIKE THOSE FINGERS IN THERE, DON'T YOU SLUT?

lolalane chews her lip and nods. Ben PUSHES HARDER. Ben eyes her gorgeous tits and licks his lips. lolalane shudders and looks away.

And what about these??

What about them?

Ben licks his lips again. lolalane frowns.

TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT!

Ben slams two fingers HARDER inside.

NOW!

lolalane bucks against his hand and shakes her head. Ben SLAPS her.

NOW!!!!

Owwwww.

lolalane pouts and unbuttons her shirt. Ben shoves three fingers in her pussy as punishment. Ben slaps her again. lolalane gasps.

I SAID TAKE IT OFF, YOU FUCKING BITCH!

SLAP!

lolalane grabs his hand and pulls on it, whining. Ben sticks three fingers in her mouth. lolalane shakes off her shirt.

DO YOU LIKE THAT PUSSY JUICE, LOLA?

Ben shoves them in her mouth further. lolalane whimpers, sucking on his fingers and choking. lolalane bites his hand hard. Ben pushes his body against hers, his throbbing cock against her open pussy, through his jeans. lolalane sputters.

SLAP!

Ben slaps her face as hard as he can. lolalane gasps and grabs her face.

Ass.

lolalane rubs her face. Ben takes his hand out of her mouth and kisses lola long and hard.

You will pay for that, do you hear me?

You will pay…and you will pay dearly.

lolalane struggles against his mouth. Ben throws her down on the ground. lolalane lands hard and rolls to her side. Ben SLAPS her ass as hard as he possibly can.

Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

lolalane shrieks and covers herself. Ben grabs her hair and pulls her back onto her hands and knees. Ben pulls her hair HARD. lolalane squeals, her whole body tingling and burning.

Owwwwwwch, stop!

YOU FUCKING SLUT. WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

Ben SLAPS her ass again.

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

lolalane glares at him. Ben SLAPS IT AGAIN! lolalane growls, her ass burning. Ben can see her ass is red as blood now.

Is this getting sensitive, baby??

Ben SLAPS HER ASS AGAIN! ...AND AGAIN! lolalane screams and starts to cry. …AND AGAIN!

Owwww, stop!

STOP!

Ben SLAPS her as hard as he possibly can.

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Ben SPANKS her again! lolalane cowers and sobs into her hands.

STOP CRYING. NOW.

NOW!

lolalane wipes her face, gasping. Ben gently rubs her burning ass.

Now, do we need to go through this again?

No, no nooooo!

Ben gently pinches her burning ass. lolalane shakes her head quickly, moaning softly.

Owwww.

Are you going to do what I say, lola?

Yesssss!

Tell me your real fucking name, right now.

NOW!

lolalane runs her hand through her hair and looks at him. Ben SLAPS HER ASS AGAIN…HARD. lolalane moans pitifully.

TELL ME.

I KNOW IT'S NOT GODDAMN LOLA.

BITCH!

It's not.

Ben SLAPS her again.

It's not.

TELL ME!!!!

Ben winds up for the HARDEST SPANKING YET... lolalane groans and starts to cry again.

Nooooooooooo

Okay, wait!

NOW!

AND DON'T FUCKING LIE, SLUT!

TOO LATE!

Ben SLAPS HER AS HARD AS HE POSSIBLY CAN. lolalane screams and scrambles to her feet. Ben tackles her and pins her to the ground.

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING?

lolalane pounds on the floor angrily. lolalane growls and scratches him. Ben reaches down and pushes his thumb into her waiting pussy, dripping with juice, running down her leg. Ben SLAPS her face. Ben holds her cheek and SQUEEEEEEZES. lolalane shrieksssssss.

YOU GOT A FUCKING PROBLEM, BITCH?

No no no no no

Ben squeezes her left nipple hard with his other hand.

You want me to let go of this nipple?

Ben squeeeezes harder. lolalane cries and looks around, for something to hit him with. lolalane can see stars. Ben is pinning her shoulders to the ground. She is helpless.

TELL ME YOUR MOTHER FUCKING GODDAMN NAME!

lolalane grabs her tit and rubs it hard.

Why?

Why?

LOLA CAN'T GRAB HER TIT BECAUSE HER FUCKING ARMS ARE PINNED TO THE FUCKING GROUND.

Ben PINCHES HER TIT AGAIN. lolalane bucks furiously.

DID I EVER TELL YOU TO ASK A MOTHER FUCKING QUESTION?

OKAY, YOU ASKED FOR IT!

Ben SQUEEZES her tit as hard as he possibly can. lolalane shakes her head, squealing.

Oh God.

Stop!

Ben STARES AT HER INTENSELY.

TELL ME YOUR NAME.

*****.

LIAR!

No.

Ben SQUEEZES AGAIN. lolalane cries hard and looks around.

THERE IS NOBODY HERE, SLUT. STOP LOOKING AROUND.

I'm not lying!

I'm nooooot.

YES YOU ARE.

YOUR NAME IS NOT FUCKING *****.

Ben spits in her face. lolalane growls...you want a lie then, you son of a bitch?

Mandi?

Tammy?

Alice!

OH, WE'RE GETTING SMART NOW?

Angela.

lolalane spits back at him.

Whatever you say.

Ben licks her spit off his lips.

MMMM... TASTY.

lolalane glares at him. Ben SLAPS her face hard, her cheek now bleeding.

YOU WANT THAT AGAIN?

IT'S ONLY BLEEDING A LITTLE BIT….

lolalane kicks and clenches her fist, seeing starry black.

THE OTHER ONE IS JUST ABOUT TO BLEED….

I CAN GET THAT ONE GOING TOO, IF YOU'D LIKE….

Nooooo no more.

OR THOSE BIG LIPS….

I told you my name!

HOW ABOUT IF I SMACK YOU IN THE MOUTH A FEW TIMES?

BUST THOSE LIPS OPEN FOR YOU?

SO YOU CAN WALK AROUND TOWN WITH EVERYONE KNOWING WHAT AN ABUSED LITTLE SLUT YOU ARE?

lolalane shakes her head hard.

YOU WANT THAT?

Nooooooooooo

THEN SHUT THE FUCK UP!

lolalane nods and nods and closes her mouth tightly.

STOP FUCKING CRYING.

STOP.

lolalane stops crying, panting hard, crushed underneath him.

NOW. ARE YOU GOING TO DO WHAT I SAY OR DO I NEED TO BUST YOUR LIP OPEN?

I'll do what you say.

SIR!

Sir.

Ben SLAPS her again, her right cheek now bleeding as well.

DON'T EVER FUCKING FORGET IT, BITCH.

lolalane whimpers but doesn't cry.

MMM...THAT'S A GOOD GIRL.

SHE IS LEARNING LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!

lolalane thinks If there's no one around....

THE STUPID FUCKING BITCH SCHOOL TEACHER IS ACTUALLY DOING SOME LEARNING!

lolalane glares silently at him.

NOW, WILL YOU BE A GOOD GIRL, "*****"?

lolalane nods.

MMMMMMM.

GOOD.

Ben begins to take his hand off her red tit and move it down to her uncovered pussy, throbbing with her juices. lolalane squirms. Ben’s finger slides right inside of her as he stares at her, still pinning her down.

Do you like this?

Yes Sir.

Ben moves his finger slowly in and out.

Mmmmmmmm

Ben whispers, “Good.”

I like to see my little slut in such pleasure.

lolalane writhes against him, clenching her hands.

It makes my cock so hard.

lolalane closes her eyes and feels warm all over. Ben arches his back and pushes his cock against her two enormous tits. Ben begins fucking her harder and faster now. lolalane moans and leans up, watching him fuck. Ben fucks her now with two fingers.

TAKE OUT MY COCK, *****.

lolalane unbuttons his pants and slips her hand inside.

TAKE IT OUT!!

lolalane yanks his cock out and tugs on it hard.

Better?

Ben stands up slowly so she can lean forward and take his pants and boxers all the way off.

CAREFUL....

ATTITUDE WILL EQUAL THAT LIP BEING BUSTED UP. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?

lolalane leans up, looking at him, at slides his pants and boxers down his legs. lolalane nods, chewing her lip.

DO YOU LIKE MY BOXERS?

No.

I like you naked.

You don't like them???

lolalane looks at him.

No.

What about my pants?

lolalane shakes her head.

No.

Why not?

They're in the way.

You don't like pleated pants?

lolalane grins.

Oh, you son of a bitch!

I'll fucking kill you!!

Why????

lolalane gets up.

Cause you're fucking with me, you fuck!

That’s what you get for fucking with me. Feel free to do it again, anytime Ben! (Names were changed to protect the innocent.)

Weekend Getaway: Friday Evening

Friday evening.

He doesn’t let her dress, preferring to watch her manage his errands perfectly naked. She gets him a beer, runs him a shower and continues unpacking with her body uncovered, as he watches her bruises deepen and her ass flush profoundly, the blood surging just below the surface. She does it all without a sound, without a complaint. Hours of torturous nudity, able to see what she can unmistakably feel flowering across her skin.

As dusk becomes a bright night, he sits on the couch and pulls her to him, beginning the conversation she hoped he would forget about. He lectures her quietly about how intolerable her attitude had been lately. She stiffens; glares and soft growls returning when she considers the hypocrisy of these statements. He wants me to welcome this woman in for tea and cookies when she has so vulgarly gawked at my thrashed body? He notices her defiance, and frowns.

Mark reaches and pats her bottom, seeing that it is still red. She takes a cleansing breath, trying to control the petulant and aggressive phrases that want to spring from her mouth.

Okay, anyway…I disagree.

I was more than hospitable.

Well...I didn’t think so.

She was the one overstepping traditional neighbor relations.

kay crosses her arms and looks away in disgust. She is unhappy to be discussing it and makes that very clear to him.

No, you were the one being whiny about all of this.

kay rolls her eyes.

You were also the one who deserved what she got.

kay shrugs, and heads to the bedroom to get dressed for dinner. She mutters to herself as he chokes back a snarl. After all that punishment, she still has the attitude? Unacceptable. She ignores him as she dashes up the stairs, down the hall and into the bathroom. kay runs a bath in the tub and dumps in the bubbles. He crosses to the bottom of the stairs and looks up into the shadows.

I want to make something perfectly clear to you, kay, about tonight..are you listening?

kay?

Damn it!

kay...answer me!

kay shouts yeah over the running water, mimicking him into the mirror and giggling to herself.

I'm listening.

kay tests the water. Mark rolls his eyes and prepares for what will too soon happen. She knows she’s pushing her luck. kay turns off the water and peeps out the door. She can hear him climb the stairs.

Okay, okay.

Mark walks towards the bedroom.

I'm listening.

kay wraps a towel around herself quickly and sits precariously on the bed, trying to look as obedient as she can manage. He finds her in the bedroom, leans down to look into her face…he swallows hard and points at her.

You will be as polite as you can tonight with our guest.

kay nods. He nods, sure that he has made his wishes crystal clear. He stands and smiles.

I'll start preparing the steaks for dinner.

kay grins...yum. Mark turns and heads for the kitchen.

He grabs the coal and opens the porch door, stepping out into the warm evening, the air heavy with humidity and bug repellant. He can still hear her.

And mashed potatoes?

And asparagus?

Mark shuts the back door as he pulls the grill out. She continues to shout her desired meal down the stairs at him.

And salads?

Mark laughs to himself and shouts back, stacking the coals in the grill and squirting them with lighter fluid.

Yes...and that too!

kay giggles and heads back to the tub, plunging into the water and soaking her sore body. Meanwhile, Mark looks out for his neighbor’s car to see if she has returned from the store. kay sits in the tub for a full hour getting pruney. She splashes in the bubbles and hums to herself, forgetting all about her predicament for a while. kay washes her hair, gets out, and towels off. Downstairs in the backyard, Mark dumps what is left of the charcoal into the grill and puts everything in order to start.

kay pulls on her panties and bra, wincing. She studies the now faint bruises in the mirror, lamenting her thrashed skin. She lotions her legs and arms, combs out her hair and puts it up in a bun on top of her head.

Are you done yet in there, sweet?

kay tugs up her jeans and a pink baby doll.

Almost.

Well, hurry.

I need help in the kitchen.

kay freshens her makeup and sprays on her perfume, grinning at herself in the mirror. She walks into their bedroom and digs through her bag, pulling out shoes right and left. kay changes shoes like fifteen times. She sighs, deciding on two good ones. Mark hears her noises—scuffling and sighing upstairs, and wonders what the hell she could be doing in there. She saunters awkwardly down the stairs and heads for the kitchen, the charred meat making her mouth water. kay emerges wearing one white wedge and one pink heel.

Which one?

kay points at her shoes. He doesn’t even look; the briefest of glances.

White.

kay nods and goes to look at the wedges in the downstairs bathroom mirror, cocking her head to the left and the right. He groans, eyeing her with less and less patience. It was only a dinner in their home. Good Lord. He sighs heavily and turns to her.

Come on sweet, it ain’t the ball...just a neighbor coming over.

kay turns and turns and decides to...this time...stay with the white. kay growls...yeah, but it's THAT neighbor. He prickles instinctively, prepared for her tantrum, but trying to avoid it.

Remember your manners.....ok?

She takes a beer from the fridge and hands it to him to open. He does and she takes it without a word. kay prances out, nodding briskly.

Yeah, yeah.

Mark hears a soft knock at the door and goes to answer it. The girl is standing there holding a pumpkin pie and a bowl of watermelon slices. She is tall and curvy, with full breasts and a wide smile. She has short black hair and wears a snug tee shirt and Capri jeans. She pokes her head anxiously around Mark’s broad shoulder. He opens the door and turns to his girlfriend, wearing a cautionary expression.

It’s our neighbor, kay. Her name is tara.

kay plunks down on the couch and stares out the window, not forgetting what the girl had seen. She tries hard not to scowl. He watches her, wanting to give her a chance to do this right. He tries again.

She’s here already.

Right, right....

Early bird....

Worm...whatever.

kay can feel herself prickling at the thought of hearing that woman speak, laugh, breathe! How dare she come into my house; kay seethes. The girl enters, handing the food to Mark. He starts to take it to the kitchen, calling back to the girl over his shoulder.

Come on in and join kay in the living room.

Unable to control herself any longer, kay throws down her beer and huffs off, up the stairs. He growls to himself, making many silent threats. Mark looks over at kay, visibly pissed.

Was it something I did?

kay SLAMS the door to their bedroom. kay starts breaking what she can find. She throws books and an alarm clock at the wall, scowling as they bounce off unblemished. He can hear her and he sighs, wearily. Anger easily replaces his frustration.

No, tara.... She’s like that tonight...and probably need a good ass whipping so we can have dinner.

kay tosses a vase on the floor. He is livid now, hearing the crashes and watching tara jump. How dare she do this, reflect him so poorly? After everything he said…. Mark runs upstairs and yanks the door open. kay throws an ashtray at him. He ducks not a moment to soon. Mark captures her by the hair and slaps her face, holding her tightly.

Stop this shit and I mean right now!

Owww, hey!

You think this is soooo funny…having her here! Humiliating me! How do you like it?

kay rubs her face. Mark grabs her arm and pulls her down on the bed. kay kicks him and destroys the bed, pulling at the covers violently. Mark slaps her on the ass. kay gasps. He nods at her and whispers into her ear.

Our guest is downstairs and you’re being rude. Very rude.

kay growls, not wanting more trouble.

Fine.

But you better not talk about this afternoon.

Shut up, kay...that’s enough!

Mark grabs her again and this time, pulls her shirt off. kay holds tightly to her clothes, clinging desperately to her shirt and pouting. kay nods.

If you want to stay up here and be a little bitch, then so be it….

I can arrange for that right now.

Is that what you want?

kay looks at the floor.

Answer me, damn it!

I'm not.

You’re not what?

I'm not a bitch.

You're embarrassing me.

No, you’re embarrassing yourself.

kay swallows back many hateful words. He watches her, pleased that she says nothing. He relents.

Then stop acting like one and come downstairs.

Understand?

Fine, give me my shirt.

No.... Not until I get a good answer from you.

kay nods, silently.

Okay.

Here’s your shirt.

kay takes it briskly, yanks it over her head and goes to the bathroom to splash water on her face. He glares at her, promising himself that he will teach her about proper behavior. He smiles, cruelly.

And one thing more.... Don’t be surprised if you get spanked in front of our new friend.... It’s your choice.

kay reties back her hair, flinching. She swallows into the mirror, her face paling.

Understand?

I understand, but pleaseeee don't, please?

Is everything ok up here?

kay looks at the door, seeing tara’s shadow in the hall and lowering voice.

Yes, tara...we're on our way.

kay looks back at Mark. kay whispers pleeeease. kay tugs anxiously on him. Mark wonders if he should strip her now and humiliate her. He looks at her with those thoughts plainly etched on his face. She whimpers. kay shakes her head, desperately.

I'll be good.

I promise.

kay heads for the door to prove it.

Okay, good then.

kay nods and dashes down the stairs before he can change his mind. tara is right outside and kay breezes past her, without looking at her. The girl has a sick smile on her face and kay can’t handle looking at it one second longer. tara whispers to herself.

I think you’re gonna get your ass spanked tonight.... Oh...I can’t wait!

kay covers her pink face. kay glowers, but says nothing. tara notices that kay’s shirt is a bit untidy. tara wipes the glee off her face and tries hard to look concerned.

Everything ok guys?

kay is adamant that tara doesn't get a second show.

Yes, tara...everything’s fine now.

kay smoothes down her shirt.

Let’s eat!

kay sits at the table quietly, letting tara and Mark chatter amongst themselves about life and work. kay pokes at her salad with little appetite, just waiting for the night to be over. tara, once or twice, glances at kay’s breasts and wonders what she felt like earlier today, remembering her sprawled across the couch with tears in her eyes and splotches on her backside, wonders if those splotches are still there. Mark finally notices the strained conversation.

So...how’s the steaks, girls?

Fantastic.

kay pokes her untouched steak, throwing sideways glances at tara. tara looks at her plate quickly.

Why do you keep looking at me?

I’m sorry, kay.

kay narrows her eyes, but nods.

Yeah, well...knock it off.

I was just noticing you take very good care of yourself.

kay shrugs..it's my job.

Do you work out?

kay sighs...yes. She is sick of these questions, so superficial and frustrating. She turns to tara.

Do you? Do you work out?

Not that much.

Well, I guess accounting doesn't require it of you.

kay shrugs, smiling slightly. tara thinks that was a low blow. kay sighs loudly, noticing tara’s eyes on her chest again! She throws her fork down in revulsion.

Why are you staring at me?!?

tara looks away guiltily. kay stands and pulls her top down so tara can get a long look.

Better?

Oh my...(gasp)...yes, very nice.

kay tugs it back up, sits down, and pokes her steak. She rolls her eyes.

Swell.

What an awesome evening….

Mark is most certain there's going to be an ass whipping tonight; his jaw twitches, watching the girls. kay looks at him, doing absolutely NOTHING…she swallows and stands, heading for the back door. He tries to maintain composure.

kay.... Honey, that was uncalled for...apologize to our guest.

Now.

She can hear the insistence in his voice, the gentle threat. kay grabs her purse and walks outside. She calls back to the girl.

You smoke, tara?

Mark follows and grabs her and pulls her back to the table.

Apologize…

Now!

kay tries to shake him off. She sighs as his grip tightens and turns, poutily to the girl.

Sorry, tara.

tara blushes. kay looks at him.

Okay?

It’s okay, and by the way, they look nice.

Mark pulls kay to the front room. kay hauls her purse strap up, grimacing as the vice on her arm constricts.

I apologized!

kay tugs at her arm.

That’s it....if your gonna be that way then here’s what we are going to do…

kay stops moving and listens, anxiously. kay glances at the door to the kitchen.

Take your shirt off now! You will sit down beside tara and be nice...topless.

Understand?

You started this.

He shakes her to emphasize his point. kay pales and her mouth drops wide open.

Yes that’s right…

Off with it and now!

N-n-nno...Mark!

Mark grabs her arm and helps, yanking her top over her head. kay struggles. When he has it off, she glares at him; he lets her go, tossing the shirt onto the couch. kay grabs her purse and flees into the backyard, humiliated. tara follows her to the door, peering out at her from the screen, curiously. kay lights up a cigarette and glances around into the woods, shivering. She can hear tara moving around.

tara?

Come smoke if you want.

I've got plenty.

kay shrugs. Mark cleans up the kitchen, and then notices the absence of both women.

Hey girls...where did you go to?

I'd love one.

Thanks.

kay waves a cigarette at Mark, grinning. She inhales deeply and turns to the girl next to her, handing her a cigarette lighter.

So why are you really here, tara?

tara stares at kay’s breasts and lights a smoke. She shrugs and takes a drag.

I was invited.

kay raises an eyebrow.

Is that ok?

Sure, sure.

Where's your man?

kay blows thick smoke into the night sky and looks tara over.

He left to go back home...business, ya know?

kay nods...wish Mark had business, sometimes. She glances back at the kitchen where Mark is monitoring her carefully; she prickles. kay turns and watches the fireflies intently. tara feels bad for kay, considering how humiliating this must be.

Ya know if it would make you feel any better I can take off my shirt also...then we could both see what we want to...ok?

Oh?

You think I want to see you topless?

kay grins and grinds out her cigarette. tara narrows her eyes, instantly losing any empathy she may have had.

Yes.... I think you do...but are just too damn stubborn to say!

Honey, I am naked cause he says so, but if you want to take your shirt off, feel right at home.

Why are you so damn angry today?

I'm not angry.

It just wasn't a good first meeting.

You know he just might have to do what he did to you earlier if you don’t lighten up.

What do you know about it, anyway?

tara takes her shirt and bra off and stands in front of kay. kay lights up another and stares...at her face.

Well, I know enough to see that you were punished for a reason...I assume it was a good one.

kay laughs, looking back at Mark.

You know what they say about assuming.

tara is clearly getting agitated. kay shrugs.

Hey, whatever...guess I’ll go get a refill...you want one?

kay nods and hands tara her empty bottle. tara walks towards house. kay slaps her on the ass on her way in. kay grins.

Hey.....watch it!

kay, can I have a word with you in the other room?

kay shrugs again...you get what you want, right? kay looks back at him.

Okay.

kay gets up, stomps out her cigarette and heads in.

You need to settle down a bit.

She's our neighbor and you've been very rude so far tonight.

Can you cool it?

kay sits on the couch...I thought I have given her exactly what she wants. She turns to tara and slides her bra to the side. kay smiles at the girl and pinches her own nipples. tara disappears back into the kitchen.

Right?

Not yet, you haven’t.

kay sighs, replacing her bra.

Now stand up…

…and come over here.

kay stays seated and stares out the window. Mark reaches for her arm and then suddenly lets go.

I think I know what’s best for you, little girl.

kay looks at him. Mark leaves the room. kay twists her fingers nervously. Mark quietly asks tara to step into the room. kay chews her nails. kay pulls her legs up to her chest. tara walks in, sees her chewing her nails and waits patiently. kay growls.

What do you want?

tara, kay has been very rude to you tonight and I want to apologize for it.

kay narrows her eyes.

I think the best way to get this night on track is for kay to receive a spanking and I wanted you to see it, so you know this is not acceptable behavior.

Mark pulls at kay’s arm.

Get up, dear.

kay gasps and kicks the couch angrily. He yanks her bodily from her seat, his lips a tight slash across his face and brow furrowed.

Now!

Please don't do this, Mark.

kay stands, trying to peel his fingers off her arm. He points at her bra and jeans.

Finish taking off your clothes and make it snappy!

kay whines pitifully.

You see tara...spankings are serious around here and need to be administered quickly.

tara watches anxiously while kay undresses. kay unbuttons her jeans and pushes them down her legs, covering herself quickly. tara is salivating over every second. While no one is looking, tara pinches her own nipples. kay tucks herself against Mark to keep tara's eyes off of her. He pushes her away quickly, snapping at her.

Now step out of your pants, dear.

kay steps out and kicks them to the side, her back to tara.

This will be over my knee and, if you don’t mind tara, would you count for her?

kay blushes deeply. tara nods, gaping at what she is about to witness.

Yes, I don’t mind one bit.

kay pouts. Mark pulls kay over his lap and gently rubs her bottom. kay covers her face with her hands. Mark whispers to kay to open her legs up a little bit more. kay opens them a teeny bit. kay groans to herself. tara stands up straighter and looks. Mark readies for the first swat.

swat

kay can feel the room vibrate when tara gets closer and tries very hard not to close her legs.

Oww.

One....

swat

kay presses her lips together, determined not to make another sound.

Two...hmmmmm.

kay wriggles a little and keeps her hands over her eyes. Mark gently rubs her reddening bottom.

swat

swat

swat

Three, four, five…oh my!

kay bucks slightly and groans to herself.

swat

swat

swat

kay kicks her feet instinctively and grabs his leg.

Six, seven, eight.

Ooo.

tara...can you come over here please?

Yes...what can I do to help?

kay can feel her bottom blushing and she wants to rub it very much. kay glares at Mark.

Administer the last two for me and you can do them as hard as you would like...I’m sure she won’t mind.

kay growls. He smirks at her, holding her tightly. tara grins, enjoying the thought of smacking the little brat. kay digs her nails into his thigh.

Certainly.

SWAT!

How was that, Mark?

kay squeals and wiggles.

SWAT!

Owww.

Oh, that sounded pretty good.

kay hops up angrily.

How did that feel, honey?

kay rubs her butt and glares at both of them.

Did I make a point?

kay nods, not daring to open her mouth.

Oh, by the way, kay....no need to get dressed again.

kay's eyes get wider. She gapes at him, her face twisted with astonishment. He was being so cruel.

No, come on!

Mark stands up and hurries toward kay, grabbing her arm and pulling her very hard up the stairway and into the master bedroom, tara in tow. He pushes her down on the bed without a word. kay thinks longingly of her jeans; she tries to get up. He shoves her back down, harder.

Hey!

Oww!

tara walks over to help. kay fumbles around trying to get back up but he doesn’t let her off the bed. She glares at the girl who is closing in on the other side. Naked and helpless, kay covers herself with the sheet. kay scoots across the bed, angrily holding the sheet tightly at her throat. He yanks the cloth from her, furious.

That’s enough of your rotten attitude for the night. tara, can you reach over in the chest of drawers? In the top drawer…hand me the restraints?

This is soo unfair!

MARK!!!

tara moves quickly to help, digging through the drawer and producing the binds. kay stammers, curling away from them both.

I don't even know this woman!

Stop!!

kay wraps herself in the sheet and scurries toward the door. Mark restrains her, binding her hands together. He grabs her face and holds her against him.

Ooof!

Mark throws her on the bed. kay wails fussily, then resorts to begging.

Stop!

Stoooop!

kay kicks him hard. tara is overwhelmed and waits for instruction. He looks at her, pinning his girlfriend to the bed with his forearm.

tara! Please give me a hand and don’t just stand there!

kay growls at tara. tara moves toward kay, nervously.

Okay.

I'll fucking kill you if you touch me, tara.

tara takes a deep breath and moves to sit on her legs so she can’t kick. tara pats kay’s legs, making little shushing noises.

Easy, sweetheart.

kay struggles hard against tara's weight, bucking and thrashing wildly.

You stupid cow!

Mark grabs her hands and ties them to the middle bed post, and then to the frame.

You bitch, you lemme up right now!!!

Uhhhh, MARK!

Mark moves to her legs and motions tara to get up and move away. kay yanks hard at her restraints and kicks tara in the stomach, before she can escape.

Yeah, get the fuck away!

kay twists and turns. Mark ties two more straps, one on each leg and secures them to the corner bed post. kay screams. kay cries uselessly. Mark now unties the first strap which had held her ankles together. She wails pathetically.

Mark!?!?

Mark motions for tara to come over. kay begs him to let her up.

Please, please, pleeeease!

kay flails and bucks against the ties.

tara....her legs are tied down but they have too much slack in them. Adjust her straps on your side to help spread her legs wide open.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Okay...I’ll do that for you.

kay kicks hard, trying to keep her legs together. tara looks anxiously at kay, in the spread eagle position and sighs.

Good...that will do.

Also, grab me the gag out of the same drawer.

kay whines miserably, promising both of them very hateful things. She can see tara pulling out a gag and whines.

Nooo, Sir!

If she keeps running her mouth, please feel free to gag her...ok?

kay closes her mouth.

Okay...no problem.

I won't! You can’t!!

Mark grabs kay by the throat and squeezes.

Yes, I can....now be quiet.

kay pushes her hair back with her upper arms and struggles harder. kay looks at him, terrified. tara sighs and approaches kay, dangling the gag in front of her face.

I’ll just go ahead and gag her so she can’t scream so loud.

kay stops moving.

Please don't, tara.

kay pleads desperately. Mark looks up from binding kay and addresses tara again.

Can you get the video camera out of the closet for me, tara?

kay slams her eyes shut, wishing for something to end this…flood, earthquake, act of God, anything! tara nods at Mark, her mouth curved into a depraved smile.

Okay...do you have a tape in it?

Yes and it’s blank.

kay chews her lip, anxiously. Mark can see the look on tara’s face and laughs.

This can be a tape for you to keep for yourself.

kay pulls hard at her restraints. She is not amused; she is not happy. kay growls. tara smiles back at him.

Oh, thank you!

kay glares at tara, hatefully. Mark slaps kay’s face twice, sick of her attitude.

Stop that crap...and now!

kay groansss. kay looks up at the ceiling, wordlessly. tara sets up the camera and starts the video.

Okay...much better.

kay lays limply on the bed, unable to move much at all. Mark reaches over and pinches kay’s nipples hard. kay squeals, twisting. tara continues to film. Mark undresses efficiently. kay closes her eyes and slows her breathing. She can’t feel, can’t move, can’t think like this. Mark slowly rubs her pussy, inserting his finger every now and then.

How does this look from your angle, tara?

kay moans, bucking against his hand; she is disgusted by how easily he can reduce her to such basic needs. She is a complicated and sophisticated girl, God damn it! kay is so wet already, melting when he touches her.

Oh,very nice....would it be possible for me to have a turn at that?

kay shakes her head violently.

And she tastes so good….

kay mumbles into her gag loudly.

Mark moves his head down to her sopping lap and starts to lick and nibble. She wants desperately to remain fixed, but her body is betraying her. kay grinds her sore ass against the bed, shivering.

Mmmmmm.

There’s something wrong here...I don’t know what, but something is wrong.....oh......tara...you seem to be the only one with your clothes on....set the video camera on the tripod and undress.

Mark resumes kissing, licking and nibbling her clit and between her thighs. kay watches tara closely while she undresses.

Did she bring any toys?

kay shudders contented, her pussy trembling, watching tara's full breasts sway as she takes her jeans off.

Yes...I believe she brought her vibrator.

It’s over there in her bags…

You can get it, if you'd like.

kay chews hard on the gag and eyes tara's full hips and long legs. At the prospect of toys, tara feels warm inside and very excited. kay bucks against Mark and watches every move she makes. tara bends over and kisses kay on her gagged lips and then on her neck...biting firmly. kay grabs the restraints and pulls them, irritably.

Ummmmmm....nice.

kay moans and leans up farther. tara leans down and unclasps kay’s bra, running her hand over kay’s breast; she lowers her head to kay’s nipple and teases it with her tongue. tara reaches over while biting kay’s left nipple pinches her right one.

You taste so nice.

kay squeals into the gag and purrs. tara watches Mark work his tongue around kay’s grinding hips.

Mark, may I have a turn where you are?

kay nods.

Of course...but first remove her gag for me.

kay nods more, hungry for anything he wants to put in her mouth. Mark reaches over and squeezes her throat while tara removes the gag. kay licks her lips. Mark positions himself above kay’s head and guides himself inside her mouth while holding a hand full of her hair. kay can feel her throat closing and the world swimming before her. kay takes him happily into her mouth, wet like her pussy. tara rubs kay’s slippery lips and begins to lick and bite at her clit.

tara slips the vibrator inside her wet fold. kay writhes painfully, while sucking Mark, starved for his cock. Mark pushes himself all the way down her throat...in and out.....in and out. kay can see stars, her mouth and pussy both full and wet. tara starts to lightly spank her pussy...stopping to rub gently. kay chokes him back, sucking desperately, wanting to please him after an evening of infuriating him.

Oh dear...that is so nice.

kay grinds against tara, her thighs throbbing and sluttily desirous. tara looks up at kay, grinning.

You taste wonderful.....I’ve been thinking of you all day.

kay soaks Mark, drenching him with saliva. kay sucks him hungrily, wanting to taste every drop of his sweet, thick cum. tara removes the vibrator and slips it in her ass an inch, continuing to lick and bite her clit. kay squeals and wriggles away from her.

Easy, doll...don’t wiggle too much. I’m going to push it in a little more.

Mark pushes deeper in her mouth. kay closes her eyes and shudders, shaking her head. kay chokes on him, leaning away from tara. kay pulls her mouth from Mark’s dick, moaning...no, wait...stop, tara, stop!

What’s wrong...did I go to far in?

kay pouts, squirming farther from tara. Wanting to slip his cock deep into her pounding opening, Mark removes himself from her mouth and pushes tara out of the way, mounting kay quickly and possessively. She moans his name.

Fuck me, Mark...hard and long and deep.

kay trembles against him, forgetting tara for the moment. Mark slips inside her and drives hard, uncontrollably. kay shiversss.

Oh god, yes. This is nice.

You take it like a good girl….

kay nods, meeting him with her hips. kay closes her eyes as her thoughts spin away, lost to the feeling of being deeply fucked into oblivion.

Always a good girl, for you.

tara moves around him and shoves her breast in kay’s mouth and forces her to lick. Mark pounds rigorously now, more quickly, maliciously. kay bucks harder, mindlessly sucking whatever is shoved in her mouth. Mark gets to the point of climax. kay loves feeling used, all the way used. tara switches breasts and moans with delight.

kay loves being fucked like a whore, pounded hard and without consideration. kay sucks her hard and bites tara’s nipple. tara takes kay by the throat. kay is close to cumming, her pussy throbbing.

Very nice, kay.

kay cumssss, not able to help it. Mark pummels her even harder.

Oh yes.........

kay screamsss. Mark cums in her as though he has just filled a gallon bucket up....never seeming to stop. kay pounds her sopping pussy against Mark, lapping uselessly at tara's tits.

Mark lays back and withdraws himself from kay and watches as she sucks tara’s nipples violently. kay can feel his load pooling under her ass. kay grins, biting tara playfully. Mark motions for tara to move so he can be cleaned by kay’s willing mouth. kay nods and nods.

Mark pulls her head toward him and motions for her to open her mouth. kay opens easily. Mark pushes himself, once again, inside her mouth. tara watches intently, excitedly. kay sucks everything from his cock, adoring his taste. Mark withdraws once she has slurped everything from him. kay coos happily.

tara, eager to cum, positions herself like Mark did, kneeling around kay’s shoulders, and grabs kay’s hair. She pulls kay’s enthusiastic mouth to her throbbing pussy. She shakes kay’s head roughly.

Put your tongue in quick...you’re going to make me cum.

kay laps her pussy too, tracing thick, firm circles around her throbbing clit. tara shudders with anticipation, knowing she's about to cum all over kay’s pretty face. kay licks her hard and fast, bringing her to climax easily.

Ohhhh, God...yes...yessss!

kay pushes hard against her clit, stroking her quickly.

I’m cumming...ohhhhhhhhhhhhh….

kay laps sweet wetness from tara’s drenched pussy. tara leans down and French kisses kay, sucking the girl down to her nipples, where she bites slightly. kay bucks against tara and shivers.

See? This is why we have to learn to play nice, kay.