Archive-name: Bondage/monica.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Monica - Part I





   My name is Monica French. Although my identity is not really

pertinent to the story you're about to read, I feel that it's

important to tell you that I am a real person. At some point you will

undoubtedly begin to suspect that this story is a fabrication -- that

I have made it up for some prurient reason. I assure you that every

word is the truth, and I hope that you will not think me bold for

relating it in this way. My primary motive is to provide you with an

account of the bizarre consequences I recently experienced as a result

of a simple clerical error.

   I have found it necessary to be quite graphic in my descriptions.

If you, dear reader, are squeamish or offended by frank language you

would be advised to read no further.





   Smoking finally got to me a short time ago and I resolved to stop.

I have never had an exceptionally strong will and had failed miserably

with every method. I'd tried them all; pills, encounter groups,

hypnosis, and anything else that my friends suggested.

   Two weeks ago yesterday I saw an ad in the paper so simple and

direct (STOP SMOKING! WE'LL HELP YOU!) that I called the number

immediately. The number connected me to "The Institute," and the

receptionist gave me directions to an address downtown where I would

need to fill out some paperwork.





               ******* SESSION ONE *******



   Not until I arrived at "The Institute" did I learn that it deals

with more than smoking. In speaking with the woman at the front desk,

it became clear that they offered help with just about every aspect of

life; people who wanted to become ex-smokers accounted for only a

small portion of their clientele. I filed this away with the idea that

if they helped with my smoking I might find at some later date that

they would be able to help me with other things too. In a hurry, I

completed both sides of the application and returned it to the lady.

It was really quite brief and asked for only the basic details about

myself, you know - name, address, date of birth, and so on. When it

came to the part where I was to indicate what service I desired, I

found that there were several columns of choices and I needed only to

locate the one that said "Stop Smoking" and enter the key letters into

the box provided.

   I was in such a hurry to finish the form that I read the key

letters from the wrong column and entered them in the box by mistake.

An hour or two later, when it was obvious that there had been a

serious misunderstanding, I was in no position or mood to object.

   Presenting the completed form to the receptionist, I was puzzled by

her reaction as she checked each piece of information. Finished, she

looked up and indicated that the service I requested was quite

expensive.

   "I'll pay whatever it costs," I assured her, but found myself a

little self-conscious. She was obviously appraising my body! Although

I have no reason to be ashamed of my appearance (I have been told that

I'm very attractive), I could feel the blood rising in my cheeks. She

explained that I was one of the few `normal looking' people to request

this particular service, and I felt relieved at least to know why she

was looking at me that way. I could not understand what might be

`normal' or otherwise for a person with a smoking problem, but elected

not to pursue the issue.

   I was shocked when she told me that the fee would be a thousand

dollars, but determined to go for it -- I could always press for a

refund if I failed to quit. Besides, when she explained that the

service consisted of four-hour sessions on Mondays, Wednesdays, and

Thursdays for six weeks it seemed as if I would be getting quite a lot

of attention for my money. I paid for the service with my Visa card

and the lady asked my to please have a seat in the waiting room ...

that I could begin my therapy shortly since it was a Monday.

   While in the waiting room I fetched a cigarette from my purse and

lit it out of habit before realizing what I had done. Quickly snuffing

it out in the ash tray, I looked around sheepishly to see if any of

the other people in the room had seen what I did and immediately felt

stupid since they could have no idea why I was here.

   After a few minutes a very pretty blonde haired girl appeared and

called my name.

   "Miss French, would you come with me please?"

   I could manage only a nod as I stood, looking at the others

apologetically for being called before them but they didn't seem at

all upset. I followed silently behind the girl as she led me through a

doorway into a long gleaming corridor.

    When the door to the waiting room had closed behind us she turned

to me and explained that on this first visit a physical examination

and preparation was needed before my session could begin. I told her

that I understood and stepped through the first door on the right as

she held it open for me.

   The nondescript office held a large shiny desk with a chair behind

it and another comfortable looking chair in front for the visitor.

Except for a few small paintings on the walls the room was bare. I

walked to the chair and sat down as the girl seated herself behind the

desk. I noticed a manila file folder on the desk before her and

managed to read my own name on the tab along the edge.

 "Miss French, my name is Carol McGee," she began while opening the

folder. She welcomed me to "The Institute" and thanked me for placing

my trust in them. She sounded as though she had repeated the same

words countless, but she looked so young that she could not have been

with the company for very long. Her eyes were directed downward to my

file and I was glad for the chance to stare at her unobserved. Very

pretty and neatly dressed, she looked no more than eighteen. When she

looked up she smiled warmly, putting me quite at ease.

   Opening a drawer at her left, she brought out a small glass bottle

and a plastic cup sealed in clear cellophane. Unwrapping the cup, she

explained that the bottle contained a medication that would facilitate

the efforts of my therapists. Twisting the cap, she poured the

contents into the cup and set it on the desk in front of me. Picking

it up, I gave in to the urge to sniff. We all have memories of being

forced to swallow foul tasting medicine, but I was pleasantly

surprised to find that it smelled like Hawaiian Punch even though it

was totally colorless. My eyes on hers, I took a small sip. Her smile

and nod reassured me. I tasted, found it delicious and quickly drank

it all. Retrieving the empty cup from my hand, she dropped it and the

bottle quietly into a small waste receptacle next to the desk.

   She explained that my session would begin in a few minutes and we

spent the time chatting about the weather and the price of clothes. I

felt myself relaxing as we took turns speaking. I was more at ease

with her than I'd ever been with a new acquaintance, and was a little

disappointed when the door opened. I'd have to go with someone else

now, and I'd been enjoying my visit with Carol.

   Feeling sad, I accepted Carol's outstretched hand as we exchanged

smiles, but was unable to voice my fears. Oh, I could speak well

enough -- I thanked her and told her how much I had enjoyed our

visit -- but I found that I could not say anything negative. I turned

and smiled at the new face in the doorway, walking eagerly to meet my

guide even though I really didn't want to leave Carol McGee.

   Two doors down the hall was a small room where I was invited to

have a seat. Suddenly alone, I was a little puzzled with being

shuffled about like this. Except for the door I had just come through,

there was only one other small door here, unmarked. Next to the door

was a window with a flat counter under it but I could see no one in

the other room. I was tempted to go to the window and look into the

area beyond but something held me back. I began to feel uncomfortable

as I sat there - my discomfort stemming from the fact that I had to go

to the bathroom. The sense of urgency was growing rapidly and my

bowels were churning. There were no cramps or pain but I knew that I

must find a bathroom quickly! Standing up, I walked to the window and

looked through but was disappointed to find the small room on the

other side empty. In my desperation I decided to check the door next

to the window.

   As I opened the door I heard the sound of bells jingling beyond the

window but was in too great a panic by then to pay them any notice. I

was never so happy to see a simple white toilet! Quickly stepping

inside and pushing the door shut, I barely managed to throw the back

of my skirt up, tear my panties down, and plop onto the seat before

losing control. I broke out in a cold sweat as my bowels erupted into

the bowl with such force that the water splashed up onto my buttocks.

I lowered my forehead onto my knees because I felt faint as my insides

burst forth and a seemingly endless stream cascaded into the water

under me. Although I was concerned that I had suddenly taken sick, I

was more upset by the fact that anyone outside could surely hear the

commotion! You can imagine the disgusting sound that an event like

that causes.

   Almost as suddenly as it started, the terrible need died and I was

able to sit up straight and take some deep breaths. My face and neck

were damp with sweat and I felt a little light-headed but was relieved

that what ever kind of attack I'd suffered seemed to have vanished.

Using large handsful of toilet tissue dampened in the sink I washed my

buttocks and the backs of my thighs where the filthy water had

splashed up onto me. I had to flush the toilet several times before

all traces were removed from the bowl. I was grateful for the exhaust

fan in the ceiling which seemed to have pulled the smell away. Finally

at the sink I used my cupped hands to apply cool water to my face to

freshen myself. By the time I had dried myself I was feeling fine

again.

   I was dismayed as I opened the waiting room door to find two faces

watching me! A dark haired woman at the window asked if I were feeling

better now (to which I could only manage a small nod - I was so

embarrassed) and the woman who escorted me here a few minutes earlier

had returned. The woman behind the window smiled and told me not to be

embarrassed by what had happened. She explained that it was the drink

Miss McGee had given me, and that it had done what it was intended to

do. I was about to ask her why such a thing should be necessary when

she said that the escort would take me back to Miss McGee's office

where my questions would be answered.

   So I turned silently to the other woman and followed her back to

Carol's office. When I entered, Carol motioned with her hand for me to

be seated. I had an urge to tell Miss McGee just how upset I was about

what had been done, but when my eyes met hers I found that I could

not. Without a word, this young woman had stifled my anger! In fact,

the whole incident began to seem too trivial to mention and I sat down

in the big soft chair.

   I listened quietly as she began speaking, her eyes holding my own.

She explained that the laxative was necessary because one of the

primary taboos (that of anal intercourse) could only be dealt with

properly if the rectum and large intestine were empty. You could have

knocked me over with a feather! I don't know if my shock was apparent

but I was unable to find the words I needed to tell her that a mistake

had been made. She directed my attention to the single sheet of paper

before her on the desk and turned it toward me as I looked down. The

large letters "S-T" at the top and the words "Sexual Taboos" below

them seemed to jump off the paper at me. Those were the key letters I

had used on the application form! Scanning the list of topics on the

paper, some of them struck me with almost physical force. Masturbation

techniques, solitary and mutual... masochism... bondage... fellatio...

cunnilingus... lesbianism... anal intercourse! The list was long and I

looked back up as she continued to speak.

   She explained that to ensure my co-operation the laxative was

supplemented with a harmless but powerful mind-control drug that would

help me overcome my inhibitions. At the outset, she continued, the

drug would manifest itself in the form of an inability to resist the

instructions of the therapists or to voice any objections. After

several sessions however, I would find that I no longer would have any

serious objections or reservations and that the therapy would progress

smoothly for all concerned. I cannot begin to describe my feeling of

helplessness as the terrible truth was revealed. I assured Miss McGee

that I understood the need for such a measure and that I was quite

anxious to begin. It was my own voice, but those were not the words I

wanted to say! Nor did my expression of eager excitement reflect my

true feelings at the time!

   As I listened to Carol McGee's brief run-down of the therapy I had

signed up for I found myself beginning to admire her poise and self-

confidence. Although she was obviously younger than I, she projected

the experience of a much older person. As if sensing my thoughts (a

skill I was later to learn that was shared by all the therapists I

would meet), she explained that she too had been in my position only a

few years earlier. It seems that she had been a star pupil and had

been offered a position on the permanent staff at the institute. She

thoroughly enjoyed her job now because, in addition to her present

capacity, she also served as a therapist. We would definitely meet

again under much different circumstances.

   At that moment I made the first positive step toward coming to

grips with my situation. I believed what Carol had told me about the

effects of the drug because I did want to object, to explain that a

terrible mistake had been made, but could not! I determined to make

the best of it, though, and the knowledge that I would see her later

under what could only be some physically intimate conditions sent a

ripple of excitement through me. Again, I felt that she was aware of

my thoughts because she smiled warmly and assured me that I would not

regret my decision. Her hand disappeared beneath the desk top and I

heard a buzzing sound somewhere in the distance. Carol explained that

it would be necessary for me to have a physical examination, and that

my escort would return to take me to the lab. She said that all

applicants are thoroughly examined as a means of controlling the

possible spread of disease. The entire staff was also examined weekly.



   Before I continue I should explain a few things about myself. I am

twenty-three years old and quite good looking. Not out of conceit or

any kind of delusions do I make that statement, but because it has

been told to me so many times. I am tall (5-11) with long blonde hair

and green eyes. I have dimples in my cheeks that show when I smile and

make some people think I'm cute, although I must admit that I hated

them for a long time. My breasts are a little larger than average and,

as for the rest of my body, I have just enough fat in all the right

places. Because of the attributes I've just described, I have had my

fair share of attention and consider myself lucky. Uncounted men and

boys (and even a few girls) have made passes at me and I'll admit that

I've taken advantage of a few of them. I don't want to give you the

impression that I've been easy or promiscuous, but I've had what I

guess to be a normal sex life. Because of my upbringing, I've had

trying moments - there are some things that I feel are dirty or

degrading and I've had to "draw the line" on many occasions when I

felt that I didn't want to do something that I would be ashamed of.

    Much of this passed through my mind in the minute or two that I

waited for my escort to arrive, and I felt more than a little

apprehensive. It was clear that I would be introduced to a number of

activities that I had always refused; and a few that I'd never even

contemplated!



   I was taken several doors down the hall to a large room full of

white porcelain and stainless steel. The clinical appearance put me on

the defensive right away even though I eagerly followed where I was

led. Actually, I was terrified! Two women in nurse's uniforms assured

me that there was nothing to fear. Their friendly approach made me

feel better and by the time the introductions were over my butterflies

were all but gone. I learned that their names were Shelly and Alicia,

both of whom had been employed there for about a year. They were both

quite attractive and had such friendly and easy-going manners that I

didn't hesitate when they suggested that I "get out of those clothes

so we can get started." As I took my blouse and skirt off, Shelly hung

them neatly on a hanger and Alicia folded my panties and bra and set

them on a small shelf above the clothes rod.

   Shelly and Alicia led me to a large round white bathtub and helped

me over the edge into the wonderfully warm water. The tub was deep and

the water came up to my neck. Alicia turned a valve and the water

began swirling. I was almost floating and had to hold onto the edge to

maintain my position. They explained that the water had bath oil in it

to clean and soften my skin. I told them that it felt heavenly and

that I could understand why hot tubs and spas were becoming so

popular. Although I didn't mention it to them, I was thankful for the

hot scented water; I still felt dirty after my incident in the

bathroom. After a few minutes Shelly turned the whirlpool off. Alicia

told me they knew I'd like to stay lot longer, but they needed to

begin my examination. They helped me over the edge and dried me with

large soft towels. Alicia commented that I was a "natural blonde" as

she gently patted me dry and playfully fingered the kinky hair of my

bush. I know I was blushing, but since I couldn't think of anything to

say, I remained silent as they led me to a low vinyl covered cot and

helped me to lie down.

   After a little maneuvering, they positioned me as they wanted me.

The cot had pelvic exam stirrups at one end and they moved me toward

them until my buttocks rested on the very end of the cot. Shelly set

my heels in the stirrups and told me to relax and let my knees fall

naturally out to the sides. She sat on a low stool and scooted up

close between my thighs. I wanted to at least appear relaxed, so I lay

my head back and closed my eyes -- yet I felt so utterly vulnerable in

my "wide open" position that my imagination began working overtime;

the butterflies returned in force. Shelly and Alicia were talking back

and forth, not exactly whispering, but so softly that I could not make

out what they were saying. I heard an occasional word or two:

   "Nice.... I'll get it.... mmmm-hmmm...."

   The sound of an aerosol spray and a cool wetness in my crotch

brought my "relaxed" act to a quick end. I lifted my head to see what

was happening. Shelly was spraying something onto my pubic hair and

using her free hand to gently massage it in. Alicia came to my side to

explain: my pubic hair would have to be removed because it had a

tendency to "get in the way" sometimes. Naturally, I nodded in

agreement and told her that I understood, even though I did not

understand at all. But Shelly's fingers felt good as she rubbed the

liquid into my skin. She paid particular attention to the delicate

outer lips of my cunt and the small patch between my vagina and anus.

When she swirled her fingers around the rim of my anus and added

another quick burst from the spray can, it was all I could do to

remain still.

   Shelly rose from her stool and went to the sink to wash her hands.

Still at my side, Alicia explained that they would "let it work" for a

few minutes and told me to just relax again. I let my head sink back

onto the cot and tried to sort out my thoughts. Some women did shave

themselves down there but it seemed so kinky that I had never

considered it. I wondered what she meant about it getting in the way

and whether I'd look funny with no hair there.....

   After a short time, I heard Shelly say something about "that should

be long enough" and opened my eyes as see sat back down on the little

stool. She had several small white towels and placed all but one on my

stomach. Her face moved closer to my pubic area now as she caught a

few strands of hair near the upper edge of my bush and pulled gently.

I watched a little patch of my skin pull upward with the hair and felt

a slight twinge as the roots suddenly let go. She held them up for me

to see and smiled.

   "Simple," she said lightly, and wiped them onto the towel in her

other hand.

   The hair came out more and more easily as she worked back and forth

across the blonde triangle, systematically pulling them out in little

patches. I felt absolutely no pain, just a gentle tugging. When the

large patch above my vulva was bare, she began on the finer hairs

covering the outer lips and the area around my anus. After fifteen

minutes or so, she sat up and folded the towel neatly around the pile

of hair, and dropped the package into a small waste can. Alicia had

prepared a small pan of warm soapy water and held it while Shelly

dipped a the clean towel into it. Shelly washed my lower body and

inner thighs and finally used the last towel to pat me dry. After a

close inspection of her handiwork, and apparently satisfied, Shelly

sat up slowly and spoke a single word.

   "Beautiful," she said with a smile, and Alicia nodded in agreement.

   As they helped me to sit up and finally to stand I was conscious of

a cool sensation down there. It'd take some time to get used to the

absence of hair on my pubic mound, but it was kind of refreshing and

certainly different.

   Alicia led me to a scale and asked me to step up on it. It a

standard doctor's-office model with the gadget that slides up and down

to measure your height while the balance arm shows your weight. She

read off the numbers and Shelly wrote the information onto a form.

   During the next few minutes Alicia measured various parts of my

body while Shelly silently took it all down. Oh, she measured all of

the normal things -- bust, waist, hips, neck, arm length, etc. But

also some that I found a little strange: the distance around my upper

thighs, knees, calves, upper arms, elbows and wrists; the length of

each finger; the distance from my crotch to my knees, from collar bone

to nipples, from nipples to navel, and the diameter of my areolae.

   Then Alicia set me down at the table across from Shelly and

explained that they needed to check my gag reflex. From a drawer on

her side of the table, Shelly fetched a long cylindrical object a foot

long and a little fatter than my thumb. Fine circumferential lines

graduated the length in inches and fractions.

   I leaned toward Shelly and made an "O" with my mouth as she placed

the end of the cylinder between my lips. Alicia watched closely from

my right side as Shelly slowly slid the tube into my mouth. She told

me to open my throat as well as I could, and I tried as the end of the

tube touched the back of my throat. I was somewhat surprised at my own

feeling of calm at this point and it was not until the tube had passed

what felt like an inch or so into my throat that my body revolted. My

stomach muscles clenched up tightly and I heard the wretched sound of

myself gagging on the tube.

   "Five and a quarter," said Alicia. Shelly withdrew the tube, handed

me a tissue to wipe my mouth and entered the figures on the form.

   "early done, now," she said and led me to the examination table

for the final measurements. An ordinary looking table, waist high and

covered with softly padded vinyl. A small stool made it easy for me to

climb up as Alicia held my arm to help me. They hadn't specified

whether I should be prone or supine, so I chose to lie face-up. Shelly

came to the table still holding the graduated tube and slid a hand

under my leg just above the knee. She lifted as Alicia did the same on

the other side and I cooperated, drawing my knees up toward my chest.

   Drawing a tube of K-Y jelly from the pocket of her lab coat (I

could see the label clearly) Shelly explained that she would now

measure the depth of my vagina. She squeezed a generous blob into the

palm of her hand and thoroughly coated the tube.

   "Now relax, dear." Shelly gently spread the outer lips of my cunt

and inserted the rounded end of the tube. It was pleasantly warm, and

my eyes closed as I mentally followed it progress. There was a sharp

intake of breath (mine?) when it reached my cervix. Withdrawing the

probe, she told me to lower my legs.

   "Six and three-quarters," she said, and I turned my head to watch

Alicia enter the numbers on the form. It came as no surprise when

Shelly asked me to "please roll over." I complied with a strange

excitement, anxious to learn what the next measurement would be! I

turned my face to the side, resting my cheek on the soft vinyl as I

felt Shelly's hand on my right buttock. The end of the tube pressed

gently at the center of my anus. It slipped smoothly in and I realized

that I was holding my breath. It moved deeper into my rectum and I

forced myself to exhale, listening carefully as Shelly began to speak.

   "The last section of your large intestine is relatively straight,"

she said, "but several inches from the anus it makes an abrupt turn to

one side or the other. We need to record the distance to that first

"corner," and which way it turns."

   The blunt end of the tube began to push against the obstruction and

I found my voice long enough to say that she had reached the corner. I

heard her say "five inches even," but was a little confused when I

felt the tube being withdrawn. Shelly explained that to learn the

direction, she would need to carefully push beyond the corner and that

the tube would "straighten it out," allowing deeper penetration. She

could sometimes sense the direction by the feel of the tube but that I

would be able to tell her for certain. She also pointed out that she

would inject more lubricant into my rectum just to be on the safe

side. I felt the coolness of the threaded end of the K-Y tube as she

slipped it a fraction of an inch into me. It seemed as though she

squeezed the entire contents of the tube into my rectum and it was

strangely pleasant. I heard the empty container drop into the waste

can and a moment later felt the familiar presence of the "measuring

tube" as she re-inserted it. When the end reached the "corner," I

could feel her guiding it experimentally from side to side while

exerting just a little pressure on it. I could tell immediately that

the turn was a left turn and told her so. My voice sounded husky and

strange to my ears.

   What happened next is difficult to explain -- I can only say that,

as Shelly guided the tube to the left while pushing gently, I felt my

bowel shift as the end of the tube did exactly what she'd said it

would do. It straightened the corner and I felt the tube begin to move

deeper into me. It was beyond doubt the most bizarre thing I had ever

experienced. The end of the tube felt nearly even with my belly button

when Shelly said "eleven plus" and slowly withdrew the tube. It made a

quiet sucking sound as the end slipped out and I heard the tube drop

into the waste can. Shelly began kneading the soft flesh of my

buttocks with both hands and it was only then that I became aware that

my entire lower body had been trembling.

   "That's the end of the exam, Monica." Alicia had stood by me

throughout the final measurement. "Thanks for being so cooperative,"

she said, as though I'd had a choice in the matter.

   They helped me roll over, swinging my legs over the edge of the

table as I sat up, and eased me down on the floor. I wondered why they

treated me as though I were helpless. But when my feet touched the

floor I was glad they were holding me. My legs felt like rubber!

Shelly laughed lightly and said that my reaction was completely normal

-- the rectal probe has that effect on nearly everyone. They helped me

across the room to a toilet. It seemed strange to have a toilet right

out in this big open room and I hadn't noticed it before. Alicia

tactfully explained that I might want to "get rid of all that K-Y,"

and I realized that I did indeed have the urge. Bearing down firmly I

was able to expel most of the gooey mess, only a little embarrassed

with them watching me. Before handing me some tissue to wipe with

though, Alicia asked that I stand up so she could check in the bowl. I

did so and was told that everything "looked fine". I carefully wiped

myself and dropped the tissues into the bowl. Alicia flushed it.

   We went to the side of the room where my clothes were hanging and I

dressed. It felt really strange when the gusset of my panties touched

the bare skin of my pubic mound. It's surprising how much a thin

covering of hair diminishes your sense of feeling.

   The escort had appeared by the time I finished dressing, and I told

Shelly and Alicia that I hoped to see them again. They smiled and

Alicia assured me that I would indeed meet them again in future

sessions. I was escorted to the lobby and the receptionist gave me an

appointment card listing my next session on Wednesday. There would be

no need for a reminder; I was anxious to return!





Monica - Part II





   When I arrived at The Institute on Wednesday I was about a half

hour early. I presented my appointment card to the receptionist and

she smiled as an expression of recognition registered on her face. She

placed my card in a small file box and asked me to have a seat in the

waiting room. Unlike Monday, the room was empty. Scarcely had my rump

settled in one of the over-stuffed chairs when the receptionist

appeared in the doorway.

   "Miss French," she whispered as if about to share a secret with me.

"Would you please come back to the desk for a moment?"

   I stood and was walking toward her when she turned and hurried off.

In the lobby she apologized for having to call me back, explaining

that she hadn't noticed the message attached to my file. The note

instructed her to administer my medication when I arrived.

   When she fetched the bottle and cup from her file cabinet, I saw

that the drawer contained a large number of bottles, although I

couldn't tell if they were all the same. Opening the bottle, she

poured the contents into the cup and slid it across the counter toward

me. She watched me drink it all and held out her hand for the empty.

   "Thank you so much," she said. "Now you can go back in and make

yourself comfortable until your escort calls for you."

   I had taken only a few steps when I heard her exaggerated whisper.

"Oh, Miss French," she said. "The door on the far side of the waiting

area leads to the rest room in case you should need to...." Her voice

trailed off as she searched for the right words. She looked grateful

when I smiled and thanked her for telling me.

   I really did appreciate the information and chose a seat close to

the door she had mentioned. I found it strange that the waiting area

had no magazines or anything for people to pass the time with. The

only entertainment was soft "elevator music" coming from I don't know

where. I was trying to guess what might be in store for me but I

hadn't a clue. Scenes from Monday replayed in my mind. The strange

intimacies still excited me. With closed eyes I felt Shelly's soft

hands on my buttocks and recalled with vivid clarity what she had done

with the long tube. The fact that she and Alicia had acted with more

than professional competence in carrying out their tasks did nothing

to diminish the experience.

   The back of my mind was waiting for the onset of the cramps that I

knew would be coming, and there wasn't long to wait. Whatever that

stuff was, it worked fast! Rather than wait for the panic stage, I

rose and walked casually to the door. I was pleasantly surprised to

find a large and well equipped bathroom. Besides the bare necessities,

this room had a large counter under a mirror that covered a full wall.

The sink was located in the center of the counter instead of simply

hung on the wall. Next to the commode was a device I had read about

but never actually seen. I recognized it immediately as a bidet!

   Hiking my skirt, I pulled my panties down and sat on the toilet

just as the first honest-to-goodness cramp arrived. I let it run it's

course and allowed it to force a small amount of foul smelling matter

into the bowl. It wasn't violent like the other time; there was very

little splashing and I was grateful. For the next ten minutes or so I

allowed my body to be guided by the chemical I had drunk and after

passing an equal mix of runny stool and gas I gradually returned to

normal.

   Using a few tissues, I quickly wiped my bottom and flushed the

toilet. With a feeling of excitement, I moved onto the bidet and

looked around for the handle or knob or whatever you turn it on with.

I found a large lever on the left side, down by the floor, that looked

as though it should be operated with the foot. Pushing down slowly

with my heel I was rewarded by a fountain of warm water erupting under

me. It felt marvelous! I used both hands between my thighs to help

splash the water where it would do the most good. I was like a little

girl with a new toy as the water gently washed away the remnants of my

bowel movement.

   When I was completely clean down there I withdrew my hands and

brought my thighs together tightly in an attempt to seal off the

opening. There is no separate seat on a bidet; you sit directly on the

porcelain. Confident that I had closed the opening, I pushed down

harder with my heel and received the full cascading force of the warm

geyser. I felt as if I could stay there all day.

   But a part of me yearned to see what new things I'd do today, and

from the shelf next to the bidet I took a small white towel and dried

my crotch and buttocks. Dropping the towel into a basket below the

shelf, I stood up and used another to dry my thighs before pulling my

panties back up. When I walked back out into the waiting room I felt

wonderful and completely refreshed!

   I had no just sat down and gotten comfortable when a woman I

remembered as my escort on Monday walked into the room.

   "Miss French," she said softly. "We're ready for you now. If you'd

like to come with me?"

   I returned her smile and told her that I was ready.

   As we walked out into the hall I looked at my watch and saw that it

was still a few minutes before my actual appointment was scheduled. It

seemed strange that even though I'd arrived early I did not have to

sit and wait. I reasoned that they would normally have a delay built

into the schedule to give the laxative time to take effect. What I was

unaware of then, and indeed did not learn until several sessions

later, was that as soon as I had walked through the door, early or

not, all of the necessary people knew I was there and began preparing

for my session. In fact, my activities were being recorded on video

tape by means of hidden cameras! Well, more about that later.

   This time we walked all the way to the end of the long hallway and

swung into another. My escort led me to a door some distance down the

hall and knocked softly a few times. When the door opened, I was

greeted by a very pretty young woman.

   "Good morning, Monica," she said softly. "Won't you come in?"

   At the sound of her voice I knew who she was, though she had looked

only vaguely familiar at first glance. It was Carol McGee! My escort

left and I stepped inside the room as Carol moved aside for me.

   Instead of the uniform she had worn on Monday, Carol was dressed in

a full-length gown. It was actually a kimono, the kind of thing you

see Japanese women wearing in movies, and it was lavishly embroidered

with scenes of trees and dragons.

   Carol closed the door, turned and extended her hand with a friendly

smile. I took the hand and marveled at the softness of her skin. It

was really more than just a friendly handshake.... she drew me close

to her and, before I knew it, we embraced. Carol acted so naturally

that I felt no un ease. Actually, I was relieved to be with someone I

knew because I had been a little nervous. We stepped apart and stood

looking at each other. Her smile was genuine and my hesitation melted.

   She told me that she had prepared a warm bath and suggested that it

might help me relax. I told her that it sounded great and followed her

into the living room of a gracious apartment. It was beautifully

furnished, decorated in such a way that I could believe it a model

from Better Homes & Gardens! We entered a short hallway with a room on

either side. I caught a glimpse of the bedroom as we turned the

opposite way. The few details I was able to see were as impressive as

the living room had been.

   The bathroom was huge! The focus was a red enamelled tub in the

center, large enough for a party! Looking around the room, I noted

that everything that would normally be white porcelain was the same

deep red. Carol was watching my face and laughed a little as she asked

me how I liked it. All I could manage was "Wow." We giggled a little

over my reaction and Carol pointed out the dressing area.

   "You can hang your clothes over there, Monica." She leaned against

the rim of the tub and watched me undress.

   She was watching me, but not in a way that made me nervous. I found

that I didn't mind at all as I unbuttoned my blouse and shrugged it

off. Pulling my skirt down, I stepped out of it and was attaching it

to the clips on a hanger when Carol complimented me.

   "You have very nice legs," she said in a way that would have

sounded more natural coming from a man but which made me feel good

none-the-less.

   "Thanks." I reached back with both hands to unhook my bra. Her eyes

were glued to my chest. When I slipped the straps from my shoulders

and tossed it onto the counter, Carol drew a deep breath. When she

said that my breasts were beautiful I felt an immediate flush in my

cheeks as I thanked her again. I pushed my shoes off and slid them

against the wall under the clothes rack. Thumbs under the waistband, I

bent over to slide my panties down. I was still not feeling self-

conscious, much to my surprise, but was aware of her gaze as she

watched me turn to toss the panties next to my bra.

   "How are you coping with the loss of your hair, Monica?" she asked

as I walked toward her, her eyes directed now to that part of my body.

I told her that I'd decided that I kind of liked it; it made me feel

cleaner. Tretching out her hand, she helped me over the edge of the

tub into the warm scented water. She continued to hold my hand gently

as I sank slowly down and sat on the small ledge under the water's

surface.

   "Shall I join you in the tub?" Although she framed it as a

question, I'm certain she expected the answer I gave.

   "Please, Carol. I'd like that very much." She smiled warmly and

stood up, her eyes on mine. I pulled my gaze away from her face and

watched her untie the wide sash around her waist. In slow motion she

opened the front of the gown and presented her nakedness to me.

   Again the only word I could manage was "Wow" and I spoke it as the

gown slipped from her shoulders to the floor. I had never seen such

exquisite beauty in person before. Carol McGee could have stepped out

of a Penthouse center-fold! She thanked me for the compliment and

gracefully swung her leg up and over the edge of the tub to climb in.

I watched speechless as her lower body disappeared under the water and

she sat directly across from me. I had noticed that she too was

without pubic hair and thought she looked perfectly natural that way.

   We sat there motionless in the water for a few moments just looking

into each other's eyes before Carol spoke again. "I love to just sit

in here and soak," she said dreamily. She reached over the edge of the

tub and turned a valve. The water began to swirl. Next came two large

soft sponges. Leaning forward in the water, she floated toward me and

handed one to me.

   "The soap is in the tray right next to you, Monica," she said as

she turned and sat next to me on the ledge. "If you'll hand it to me

I'll do your back." I readily accepted with a smile and handed her the

bar of Ivory.

   My mind was whirling! I had hoped that I would get the chance to

feel her hands on my body but was too timid to make the first move. I

think she knew that, and her offer to "do my back" was one that

sounded reasonable. I let myself imagine where this might be leading

and the possibilities excited me.

   Carol began stroking gently with the sponge, and the warm water

felt nice. She washed my back for several minutes before rinsing it.

   "Would you like to do me now?"

   "Oh, yes."

   Carol turned her back to me and I began soaping my sponge. To keep

from sliding around on the slick shelf, I put my free hand on her

shoulder to steady myself. Her skin was smooth and soft. I was sort of

moving my hand around on her shoulder while making big soapy circles

on her back with the sponge when I felt her hand on mine.

   "Here, try it this way," she said and pulled my hand down from her

shoulder and under her arm. She guided my arm around her side and

cupped my hand firmly on her breast.

   "Thanks," I said. "That's much better." I squeezed gently and

marveled at her firmness as I circled her nipple with my index finger.

She sighed softly and rolled her head back when I kissed the junction

of her neck and shoulder.

   Things started happening quite fast then. Oh, I don't mean that we

moved around in the tub real fast. But it all seemed so natural and

spontaneous that we began exploring each other's body under pretense

of "washing." Let me just say this ... when we finally stepped out of

the tub some time later, we were both squeaky clean! Some areas of our

bodies had been washed and rinsed multiple times, our ministrations

bringing various giggles and sighs from the other. Our mutual

helpfulness naturally continued through the process of drying off as

we rubbed and patted each other with large fluffy towels.

   Carol said she was feeling a little chilly, and I would have

mentioned it too but I was not able to put words to any negative

thoughts.

   "I know it's warmer in the bedroom, Monica," she said as she pulled

the towel around her tightly and hurried toward the door. I followed

right behind, clutching my towel as my chin jittered up and down from

the chill.... it had felt so heavenly in the tub. She waited for me to

enter the bedroom with her before closing the door tightly and I

immediately started to feel warmer.

   The bedroom was beautiful! It actually had a fireplace set into the

wall on our right, flames licking up and around the glowing logs.

Carol explained that it wasn't a real fireplace, just a very authentic

looking unit powered by natural gas. The logs weren't real either, but

the effect was great. A white plush rug separated the dark green

velvet sofa from the heart, and smaller versions covered the floor on

either side of the huge four-poster bed. Carol pointed out that the

king-sized water bed had many individual cells so that it didn't slosh

back and forth when you pushed on it. The bed was dark mahogany, with

shelves and compartments in the headboard for things that you might

want while in bed. The large dressing table had a nice big mirror and

a wide bench seat, all of the same dark mahogany and highly polished.

   "Let's sit by the fire for a while and warm up."

   I didn't need to be coaxed. Instead of sitting on the sofa, as I

was about to do, Carol sat down on the big white rug and leaned back

against the sofa. Catching my hand, she patted a spot on the rug next

to her and pulled me down next to her. So we sat side by side staring

into the fire for a while. Our knees were drawn up close in front of

us and I could feel the warmth from the fireplace on my shins and the

backs of my thighs. We were very close together; I felt a bit awkward

because she wasn't saying anything or even doing anything. Our

shoulders, hips, and upper thighs were actually touching and I found

myself thinking about a small spot on my shoulder where it met hers,

and how it was beginning to feel uncomfortable. I didn't want to move

away, even an inch, but it seemed that we would be more comfortable if

one of us would put her arm around the other. I turned my head slowly

and examined the side of her pretty face as she continued to stare

into the fire. I knew that she knew (does that sound right?) I was

looking at her and after a few moments she looked at me and smiled.

She lifted her right arm and brought it around my shoulders, pulling

me closer to her. I gratefully returned her smile as I felt the soft

side-swell of her breast against my own.

   She asked if I were comfortable now, and I told her, with no

influence from the drug, that I was "very comfortable." She smiled

again and looked back toward the fire. I couldn't take my eyes from

her, she was so pretty, and when she spoke I watched her lips move. I

know this sounds terribly stupid, but the mood was intimate and I felt

very close to her.

   Carol told me about herself and her job at The Institute. She had

been there for three years, the last in her present capacity, and

enjoyed it very much. In what seemed a bold move, I reached up to my

right shoulder and covered her hand with my own. She paused to look at

me and smiled again.

   Her primary job was to screen applicants on their first visit, as

she had with me. She qualified that, adding that only applicants for

one of the sexually related services required screening. In most

cases, that single meeting was the only contact she'd have with the

client; but her duties were flexible enough to allow more direct

participation in the therapy if she wished. She seldom did, however,

for most applicants fell into a category she described simply as

"undesirable."

   She turned toward me and her eyes peered into my soul. Once in a

great while, she said, she saw someone across her desk that she felt

compelled to become involved with. I didn't notice her other hand

moving because I was deep in her eyes, but the soft touch on my cheek

made me lean toward her. When I kissed her mouth, time seemed to stand

still -- but my mind did not! I was kissing another woman on the mouth

and my breast burned where it pressed against hers. I wondered

fleetingly if I were a lesbian, and realized that I didn't care! I

only wanted to be with Carol McGee. I remember clearly her hand moving

down to my breast, her tongue slipping between my lips, the taste of

her sweetness. But I remember only vaguely her saying something about

the bed, and it seemed so natural that we should go there.

   We stood and she held my hand gently as she led me across the short

distance to the bed. Carol turned me around and eased me back onto the

bed, following me there as I scooted into the center. She fit so

nicely between my thighs as I felt her weight bear down on me. Her

mouth covered my own once again and our breasts nestled comfortably

together. She pressed her soft mound against my crotch; I lifted my

knees and rested my calves across her hips as if she were a man.

   Then I opened my eyes for a moment and saw us in the giant mirror

on the ceiling! The scene was so erotic that I cannot describe my

feelings. There was Carol's beautiful back. My arms wrapped tightly

around her and my legs clutched at her hips; I closed my eyes once

again in an attempt to record the image in my memory.

   Carol lifted her lips from mine and moved downward slowly, the

light perspiration on our skin allowing her to slide without rising.

Drawing my left nipple into her mouth she began sucking rhythmically

and biting ever so softly, finally letting it go to trace a path of

tiny kisses and nibbles across to the other. When she began moving

down again, her hot lips seemed to burn their way down to my navel

where her tongue probed and licked. I followed her progress in the

mirror. My hands were in her hair now and I opened my thighs farther

for her as I felt lips and tongue on my pubic mound. Another series of

kisses and bites that were not at all painful.

   Only once before had I experienced what Carol McGee was about to

give me. A guy I kind of liked claimed he wanted to, but I think it

was only because I had sucked his cock and he felt obligated. It was a

great novelty, but he might just as well have saved his time. I didn't

enjoy it very much. He was rough and in a hurry -- and he complained

about the hair in his mouth. I told him it felt wonderful but that he

didn't need to do it. He didn't argue, and I'm sure he didn't enjoy it

either. The only similarity between what he did and what Carol did was

the basic mechanics. He licked my cunt.

   What Carol did defies description. She made love to me with her

mouth and brought me to the first of several climaxes before she even

got to my cunt! She devoted a lot of attention to the soft mound

covering my pubic bone and I was floating away! When she finally moved

down into my crotch, I think she intentionally bypassed my clitoris,

maybe choosing to leave the best for last. I couldn't control my hips

and began involuntarily to rock my pelvis against her mouth. When her

thumbs pulled my outer lips apart and the tip of her tongue actually

entered the mouth of my vagina I thought I had died and gone to

heaven! It was obvious that she really wanted to give me pleasure, and

that really set me off. That, and the softly muffled sounds as she

gently sucked and kissed and nibbled every part of my cunt before

moving down and actually kissing the small ring of my anus. I became

aware of tears on my cheeks and I wanted so badly to be able to return

the pleasure for her.

   Carol saved the best for last and when her tongue reached the small

throbbing bud I nearly passed out from anticipation realized. I looked

up at my reflection and watched my belly moving in and out with my

rapid breathing. Had I not known personally what I was feeling, I'd

have thought the expression in the mirror showed panic or fear rather

than the intense pleasure that filled me. She was gentle and patient,

never pushing me over the threshold into pain. I sensed my clitoris

growing and rising between her lips, something that I had only heard

about. I floated on a heavenly cloud and my entire existence seemed

centered on that small organ; wave after wave of unspeakable pleasure

emanated from it and rippled throughout my body.

   I don't know how much time had passed, but suddenly Carol's face

was close to mine and she was smiling. I could smell myself on her

face and her lips and chin glistened with the moisture they held. I

held her face and kissed her mouth tenderly and I told her that I

loved her. Inside, I knew that what I meant was that I loved what she

had done and I'm sure she knew understood. Yet when I said that I

wanted to make love to her, I feared that she might not let me.

   With no other words I held her shoulders and slowly pushed her over

onto her back. She moved with me and I found that I felt really

strange looking down at the face of this woman. I tried to act as

though I were in control, but I was only repeating what I remembered

her doing. It didn't make the experience any less important, but I

wished I could do something original, something that she hadn't

already done. The indecision soon vanished when I looked into her eyes

and kissed her lips. I was doing what I wanted to do. Did I bring her

as much pleasure as I hoped? Or at least as much as I had received? I

don't know -- but her body was exciting.

   Everything was new to me: her nipples between my lips; the way they

hardened when I sucked them; her stomach moving up and down as I

kissed it and ran my tongue around her belly button. There was one

awkward moment when I wondered where to put my arms and hands, but I

found that by encircling her thighs with my arms and caressing her

stomach with my hands I was quite comfortable. I kissed and nibbled at

her mound and the soft skin of her inner thighs.

   I learned what a woman tastes and smells like and I hoped, above

all, that I was bringing Carol pleasure! At some point, her hips began

moving rhythmically and I could hear her rapid and shallow breathing.

Her hands clutched the back of my head, urging my tongue deeper as I

probed between her lips and felt the rippling waves emanating from

deep within her. Her vagina seemed to squeeze rhythmically at the tip

of my tongue as I strained to push it into her. The slight salty taste

of the area around her anus was not at all unpleasant, and I was

reassured and encouraged by the sound of her moaning softly as I ran

the flat surface of my tongue over it again and again.

   I found her clitoris to be hot as I sucked gently on it, and I felt

it grow out of it's small sheath as she ground her pelvis against my

face. Her thighs, where they touched my cheeks, were trembling and her

stomach rose and fell under my hands, just as I had seen my own to do.

It seemed that I was indeed making her feel good.

   When Carol reached down and grasped my shoulders, pulling me up to

her, I was gratified to see that her face was flushed and that she was

smiling warmly. We spent some time then just lying there and looking

at each other. There seemed no need for talk. I finally broke the

silence by saying something corny. I told her that I was glad she had

seen fit to "get involved" with my therapy. She apparently didn't find

it corny though, because she smiled and touched my cheek.

   "So am I."

   A knock on the door brought us out of our reverie, and I watched

Carol rise and put on her robe. I couldn't hear what was said in the

living room, but she was carrying my clothes when she returned.

   "I'm sorry, Monica," she said. "I wish we could stay together

longer but your escort has come to fetch you." She sat on the edge of

the bed and watched me dress. I think she sensed my mood.

   "We'll be seeing more of each other." Those were the words I wanted

to hear, and although the frenzy we had shared a few minutes earlier

was gone now, she came to me when I had finished dressing and kissed

me on the lips. We hugged each other as if I were leaving on a long

trip and I couldn't help the tears when I left with the escort.

   I stopped at the reception counter on the way out and the lady gave

me a card for my next appointment on Friday. I could think of nothing

else as I drove home.





Monica - Part III





   Even before the alarm went off I was up and wide awake, luxuriating

in a steaming tub. The fragrance of bath oil filled my nostrils as I

sank deep into the water. I wanted to look and smell nice, hoping that

I'd be with Carol again. What had happened on Wednesday was more than

it seemed on the surface. Nearly every waking moment since was filled

with memories of our lovemaking. It was like my first crush in junior

high; nothing mattered except being with that special person.



   Wednesday evening I'd gone to the mall. Passing a "Frederick's of

Hollywood," I decided to browse a little. A sales girl descended on me

to ask if she could help me. I told her that I was looking for

something special in panties and bra.

   She first showed me a wide array of crotchless panties.

   "Not that special," I told her. "But something fancy and of high

quality; I want to pamper myself for a change."

   The clerk suggested real silk as the ultimate in quality, but added

that it's difficult to get a good fit. You have to have just the right

figure because they don't make silk panties in large or "queen" sizes.

She stepped back to look at me.

   "But you have lovely hips. I'm sure we can find something perfect."

She selected several pair and ushered me to the dressing booth.

   After trying them all, I chose a white one with beautiful lace trim

around the waist and leg openings. They were really the only ones that

fit me. (Silk has hardly any stretch so they had to be just the right

size or they'd not fit properly.) Besides, they felt so heavenly

against my skin that I simply had to have them!

   The brassiere was a little easier because I'm an exact 38-C and

didn't have to worry about it being a little too big or a little too

small. The lace trim was exactly the same as that on the panties ...

it was perfect. Of course, it was not the kind of bra you would wear

if you expected any support (and I'm quite thankful that I don't

really require any). The thin lace straps looked delicate but seemed

strong enough, and the front closure was easy to manage. I told the

girl I'd take them and tried not to flinch when she rang up the sale.

Fifty-eight something including tax.



   Anyway, on Friday morning I arrived for my appointment early again,

about a half hour or so. The receptionist saw me coming and was

opening the file drawer when I walked up to the window. She took my

card with a friendly smile and slid the bottle and cup across to me.

Given the opportunity, I tried to read the label while twisting the

cap off and, not wanting to be too obvious, could only read the large

printing. "Dynalax," it said across the top and, in smaller letters

"with supplement-a (see precautions)." While pouring it into the cup I

wished I were bold enough to really study the small print and find out

what it said about precautions. But something prevented me from doing

so. I drank it all and returned the empties to the receptionist.

   "Someone will be with you shortly, Miss French," she said. I

thanked her and walked through to the waiting area, taking a seat near

the bathroom as before.

   I was a little bit startled when the bathroom door opened and a man

walked out. He looked to be a year or so older than me, maybe late

twenties, and our eyes met for a moment as he nodded silently in my

direction and walked to the other side of the room to sit. His face

was flushed and he appeared to be sweating as he wiped his trembling

hand across his forehead. "Another victim," I thought and I tried to

watch him without actually staring. I didn't get much of a chance.

Only a moment later Carol McGee came around the corner and spoke to

him. As he stood up Carol looked over at me and smiled. She waved,

sort of, with her arm behind her as she turned and walked away with

the man. With her wave and conspiratorial smile she got the idea

across that she was happy to see me but that she wasn't supposed to

acknowledge me personally. I surmised that the staff was expected to

keep everything on a purely professional level. The possibility that I

might meet her again that day suddenly seemed unbearably remote.

   It wasn't long before I had to take my turn in the bathroom. It 

was uneventful but I did enjoy using the bidet again. I was especially

careful not to soil my new panties even though the person for whom I'd

worn them probably wouldn't get to see them. My mood was somber as I

reclaimed my seat in the waiting room and I found myself just staring

at the corner around which Carol had disappeared.

   When my escort appeared (yes, the same one as always), I stood and

accepted her hand and even returned her smile. The last thing I felt

like doing was smiling at some stranger, but I've explained all that.

I couldn't help smiling and acting eager to get on with my session!

When we passed Carol's office door I tried to listen for any sounds or

voices but could only hear my own footsteps and those of my escort. We

walked several doors farther and stopped while she knocked softly.

   The knock was answered promptly and a pretty red-headed woman swung

the door wide, greeted me by name and waved me in.

   "Hello Monica," she said with a smile. "We've been waiting for

you." As the door closed I reached out to take her proffered hand and

she told me that her name was Jill. In what appeared to be the only

normal looking piece of furniture in the room, a stuffed chair, sat

the other half of the "we" Jill had mentioned. I stared at her and

then back at Jill as the realization struck me that they were twins!

   "I'm Jill's sister, Jodie," the girl in the chair said with an

identical smile as she stood up and reached for my other hand. They

laughed at my expression as I managed to find my voice.

   "You're twins, aren't you," I said, and felt really stupid for

saying it. All I could do was blush and giggle like a fool.

   They were absolutely gorgeous! Shoulder length hair that sort of

flipped up at the sides and back and seemed to glisten. Dark, smiling

eyes so intense it was hard not to stare at them. Slightly upturned

noses and exaggerated dimples that were especially prominent when they

smiled. Gleaming teeth that could have come from a toothpaste ad.

   They were dressed in knit work-out suits (Jill in light blue and

Jodie in pink) with scooped fronts showing an ample amount of

cleavage. The legs were cut high at the sides, almost to the waist,

and their legs and feet appeared to be bare. Their bodies were what I

would have to describe simply as beautiful: narrow waists and wide,

full hips that blended into long slender legs; large, firm breasts and

flat tummies. Aside from the different colored suits, there was one

other means of telling them apart. The thin material at the front of

Jodie's suit showed clearly the outline of her alert nipples and I

found myself staring at them.

   Following my eyes, Jodie rubbed a finger back and forth across her

right nipple and explained with a grin that they almost always stood

out like that. She seemed so bold! But when she brought her hand up to

squeeze my breast I just smiled and giggled a little, wishing the hand

were Carol's. Closing my eyes, I could easily believe that I it was

Carol cupping me there, squeezing gently.

   They began to.... I don't know.... sort of inspect me? Like they

were checking out a new car, and they did everything but kick my

tires! I think it was Jill's hands on by buttocks, feeling me through

the fabric of my skirt. When she began to work the garment upward I

reached down and helped her to pull the hem up around my waist. She

slipped her fingers down inside the back of my panties at the same

time as Jodie began stroking the front and I felt suddenly weak.

   Jill gripped my buttocks and pulled me tight against her pelvis,

sandwiching Jodie's hand between us. Someone nibbled the side of my

neck as Jill, her hands still down the back of my panties, spread my

buttocks and slipped her fingers downward between them. A finger

pressed firmly against my anus.

   It was then that Jodie slipped away, leaving Jill and me to

ourselves. Jill's body was terribly exciting because she was so firm

in the places where she should have been soft -- more like a man. Oh,

she looked very soft and feminine, pleasing to the eye and all, but

her buttocks and thighs felt muscular and hard where Carol's were so

caress-able (if that's a word). Her breasts were quite firm too, and I

found my hands roaming back and forth between her butt and chest while

she seemed to be mostly interested in squeezing my ass, occasionally

slipping her fingers down between my cheeks. Her tongue slid in and

out of my mouth. I was nearly mesmerized by what she was doing when I

heard Jodie speak our names.

   Coming up for air, so-to-speak, I turned to look in her direction.

The pink workout suit was gone, but I couldn't tell exactly what had

replaced it. She faced slightly away from us and appeared to be naked

but for a shiny black leather waistband with a narrower strap that

passed down between her buttocks and disappeared between her legs.

Jill guided me across the room to her sister, her impish expression

drawing me on.

   Jodie stood in front of a small stainless steel cabinet and turned

to lean against it as we drew near. Her hands had been cupping her

breasts. Now they slid down her sides and over her hips. The fingers

seemed to glide across her skin and came to rest on either side of her

pubic mound.

   Two straps attached to the waistband in front, about six inches

apart and centered on her belly. They descended to a triangular piece

of black leather that covered her mound. The lower point disappeared

between her thighs, presumably to meet the single strap I'd seen in

the rear. In the center of the black triangle was a small round hole

through which I could see the pink flesh of her mound. Glancing up to

her face, I giggled nervously. Jodie flashed a devilish grin which

sent a strange chill up my spine.

   Half-turning toward the cabinet, Jodie opened a drawer and reached

in, all the while watching my face. I could tell she was watching my

expression even though my eyes followed her hand. She brought out a

large pink dildo and slid the drawer shut. I watched wide-eyed as she

turned it over to examine the base and I could see that the base was

actually a large round disc about four or five inches across. It

occurred to me that, with a shade on the head, it would make an

interesting lamp! She balanced it upright in her outstretched palm as

if reading my thoughts and giggled. Reaching down with her other hand,

she unsnapped one of the upper corners of the triangle and turned it

outward away from her body. It registered with me that her cunt was

also hairless and I watched her with great interest. She brought the

head of the dildo against the inner surface of the triangle, centering

it on the hole, twisting until the head passed through. Pushing from

one side and pulling from the other, she worked the length of the

dildo through the hole until the flat base was flush against the

triangle.

   Laying the back triangle against mound, she snapped it to the strap

and turned to show me her profile. Her palms cupping her buttocks, she

began to move her hips in exaggerated fucking motions. I could not

tear my gaze from the sight of that life-like dildo spearing the air

in front of her!

   I gradually became aware of Jill's body pressing against me from

behind, her hands under the front of my sweater. Her breath was warm

on my neck as she gently unhooked my bra and pulled the cups aside.

   "Don't you just love the way she does that, Monica?" she asked

softly, cupping my breasts and moving them in slow circles with her

palms.

   "Oh yes," I answered dreamily and closed my hands over hers on the

outside of my sweater. I pulled them tighter against my breasts and

pushed back against her groin as she mirrored her sister's movements.

Her left hand fluttered down my belly, the fingers slipping smoothly

under the band of my panties. She teased me with her finger tips,

gently massaging the soft flesh of my mound and, even though I opened

my thighs for her, her fingers continued to tease just short of the

place where I wanted to be touched!

   Jodie had finished her little pantomime and was leaning casually

against the table watching us, one hand slowly stroking the shaft of

her new appendage when Jill whispered softly into my ear again ...

"Why don't we get you out of these clothes now, Monica" she suggested

in a sultry voice, and I eagerly agreed.

   Lifting my arms over my head I helped her to slip my sweater off,

and when Jodie saw what was happening she quickly joined us. I was

able to catch a closer look at her dildo as she approached and

couldn't get over how life-like it looked! I could feel it against my

thigh through the fabric of my skirt as she brought her hands up to my

breasts and squeezed them gently before pushing my bra over my

shoulders and letting it fall to the floor behind me. Jill's fingers

were at the zipper of my skirt and as she eased it down slowly Jodie

pulled downward at the sides, letting it fall to the floor also.....

   This left me with only my panties and, in my eagerness, I hooked my

thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down over my hips before Jodie

caught my hand.

   "We'll let you know when it's time to take these off, honey," she

said, pulling them back up snugly. "There's no need to hurry."

   Taking my hand, she led me to a low table and told me to make

myself comfortable, motioning toward the center with her hand. The

table was quite large, perhaps six feet square, and thickly padded. I

crawled into the center and turned to lie back on my elbows.

   I watched with growing interest as Jill walked over and stood in

front of Jodie at the side of the table. Jodie deftly removed her

sister's suit by stretching it out over her shoulders and pulling it

smoothly to the floor where Jill stepped out of it and turned to sit

on the edge of the table. She lay back against me then, the gorgeous

red hair caressing my belly, and tipped her face toward me.

   "Watch what we do now, Monica," she said softly.

   Her buttocks were at the very edge of the table, her feet on the

floor, and as she raised her knees upward and spread her luscious

thighs Jodie moved in and stood between them. Jill lifted her head for

a moment to watch Jodie do the most remarkable thing! Jodie hunched

over and pulled the head of the dildo up to her mouth, coating it with

a generous application of saliva. As Jill's head rested against my

stomach once again, her sister guided the glistening knob up and down

between the pink, hairless lips of Jill's cunt, finally pausing long

enough to wedge it firmly at the entrance to her vagina.

   I watched silently. Jill drew a deep breath as the head gradually

disappeared into her. Jodie used both hands to guide the shaft and

eased her hips forward an inch or two, drew back slightly and then

moved inward again. I watched the familiar process as Jodie moved in

and out smoothly, each time a little bit deeper as Jill's lubricant

gradually distributed itself along the shaft. The dildo was about

eight inches long and by the time Jodie had worked the full length

into her sister, Jill was moaning. I brushed my hand across her cheek

to comfort her. (I thought about the largest cock I'd ever had in me

and decided that it probably was not quite as long as Jodie's dildo so

I could imagine what Jill was feeling.) Jill smiled up at me with

glazed eyes.

   Jodie, having gotten the entire dildo into her sister, was no

longer stroking, but rather just holding her pelvis rigidly pressed

against Jill's crotch. She looked at me.

   "I think it's time for you to get rid of those silk panties now,

Monica," she said with a grin. "You can take Jill's place."

   For a moment I was unable to move because the idea came as a shock

to me (I know, it should have been obvious). I looked down at Jill and

she smiled, lifting her head so I could get up. I got up onto my knees

and began pulling my panties down. My hands were shaking and I

remember giggling as I turned to sit so I could get them off the rest

of the way. While I was doing this, Jodie slowly stroked the dildo in

and out of her sister and watched me fumble with my panties.

   "Come on, honey," Jill said. "She's got it all warmed up for you

now and it feels so good." I had no doubt that she spoke the truth.

The crotch of my panties was wet as I balled them up and tossed them

off the side of the table.

   "What do I do ?" I asked stupidly. Jill still lay there and Jodie

was still doing what she was doing. They laughed as Jodie slowly drew

her hips back, withdrawing the glistening dildo. Jill rolled to the

side and reached up for my hand to pull me down where she had been.

   "You lie down here as I did." Her tone was not mocking or

condescending as it could have been, but rather genuinely helpful.

"But you need to hurry so it doesn't get dry." She helped me to scoot

my butt up to the edge of the table, pushing my shoulders back as I

lowered myself down onto my elbows. "No. Lie all the way back so you

can support your knees with your hands," she instructed.

   Jodie stepped between my thighs as I lifted my knees and let them

fall apart, holding them with shaking hands. Jill climbed onto the

table near my head to instruct me if necessary. It all happened so

fast that I don't really know what my reaction was, but Jill was there

stroking my cheek as Jodie slipped the thick head into me. Two smooth

strokes and the head was at my cervix. Jodie continued to push.

   Looking down I could tell that she was not all the way in yet; her

mound was still a couple inches out from my crotch. I began to hyper-

ventilate, I think, because I remember hearing Jill's soft voice in my

ear telling me to breathe slowly and relax.



   All I could think about was an experience with a guy a year or so

earlier. He was great looking and super nice! His was the cock I

mentioned earlier as the largest I'd ever had in me, and he hurt me

with it. We had both been really turned on. Me because I was about to

experience one of those `big cocks' I'd heard so much about -- it's

supposed to be great to be fucked with a really big one. I think he

was so turned on because he was inexperienced and inconsiderate! He

was hard and stiff. It was like jamming a hammer handle into me! I

think it would have broken before it bent or yielded, and I ended up

screaming and scratching frantically to make him stop.

   But he wouldn't. He kept ramming it into me until he got himself

off. He said he thought I was screaming and clawing because he was

giving me such a `good orgasm.' As soon as I was able to get my legs

back I started kicking him, and I called him every filthy name I could

think of. I just lay there crying into the pillow as he hurried to get

dressed and leave. He called me a bunch of names too, I guess, but I

didn't hear them. I was in too much pain, and all I wanted was for him

to leave. He had bruised my uterus so badly that I felt as if someone

had beaten my insides with a club. It was weeks before the lingering

pain finally went away.



   When I felt the head of Jodie's dildo against my cervix I started

to panic (in spite of the drug that was supposed to make me docile and

cooperative). Jill's soothing voice finally calmed me enough to hear

what she was telling me.

   "We won't to hurt you, sweetheart," she kept saying, her lips close

to my ear as she cradled my head against her breasts. "Jodie won't go

any farther until you're ready." Her hand gently stroked my cheek.

   "Try to relax now, Monica, and breathe slower," she said softly.

Her other hand massaged my groin. "Just relax and let it come in."

   Jodie applied just a little more pressure.

   "Let her come into you all the way, honey..... you can do it.....

that's it, sweetheart.... just breathe slow and easy.... slow and easy

..... that's it.... just a little more now....," she encouraged me in

such a gentle way that I felt the soft head pushing deeper into me,

pushing my uterus upward as she continued to rub my belly to relax my

clenched muscles.

   When Jodie's mound finally pressed against the lips of my cunt, all

I could do was to giggle nervously with relief. Jodie and Jill joined

in assuring me that I was going to do just fine. The difference lay in

Jodie's willingness to go slowly and let me adjust to the length of

her, allowing my insides stretch slowly and gently instead of ramming

them like a jack-hammer.

   Jodie began to move, slowly and gently at first, with short strokes

while Jill whispered encouragement in my ear. I enjoyed the feeling,

and I must admit now that there's nothing like a long thick one to let

you know you're really being fucked! She gradually lengthened her

strokes and quickened the tempo until she fell into a comfortable

rhythm, thrusting in and out smoothly while I experimented with

rocking my hips to meet her.

   She brought me to the edge of a beautiful orgasm -- not the most

intense I'd ever had, but one of the most memorable -- and kept me

there for what seemed hours. I could feel my wetness trickling down

between my buttocks and was beginning to have trouble maintaining my

position because the padded table was getting wet down there .... and

it was when Jill reached down to move her fingers in little circles on

my clitoris that I finally went over the edge, gasping for breath. By

this time my legs were wrapped around Jodie's waist and I pulled her

to me firmly with each stroke, reaching up with my arms to embrace her

as she slowed to a stop and lowered her sweating body onto my own. I

could have held her there for ever. I was fulfilled.

   But the moment couldn't last. Jodie spoke to me then, close into my

ear with her warm breath. "Now that we've gotten you through that,

Monica," she said, "what do you say we just have some good old

fashioned sexy fun?"

   She said it in such a way that I didn't mind being deprived of my

melancholy feelings, and I told her that I'd love to! This took the

edge off and we all had a good laugh as Jill suggested what we might

do next.

   "How would you like to wear Jodie's toy for a while?" Jill spoke

carefully, as if wanting to make sure that I understood each word.

"And have your wicked way with us?"

   The question was so unexpected (and so kinky) that I just stared at

her with my mouth hanging open. They laughed good-naturedly at me and

I decided "Yes, I'd like that," when Jodie nodded her head at me as if

to say "It's all right."

   Jill and I sat on the edge of the table (Jill sat on the wet spot

and made a playfully crude comment about my not being able to control

myself) and watched as Jodie unsnapped the leather harness at one

corner and stepped out of it. Handing it to me, she began rubbing her

hairless mound vigorously with her hand, saying something about how

sweaty it gets under there.

   I stood up and managed to put the wrong foot through the leg

opening still snapped. When I pulled it up I found the triangle and

dildo behind me.

   "Oh dear, Jill. I think we've got us a real pervert here!" Jodie

said with a look of shock, and we all had another good laugh as I

stepped out and turned it around. Jodie helped me get the triangle

over my mound and pulled the loose strap down from the waist to snap

it at the corner.

   "How does that feel?" she asked, gripping the base of the dildo and

tugging on it. I told her that it felt comfortable as I timidly

reached down to grasp `my cock.' It was still slightly wet and

slippery, and the feel of it brought on another of my nervous giggles.

   I had often fantasized about this. Oh, not about wearing a life-

like dildo and using it on someone, but about actually being a man. In

my fantasy I would make love to a beautiful woman and treat her with

tenderness and love, always attentive to her feelings and making sure

she knew how much I loved her. I know that sounds terribly corny, but

after having been with several selfish and rude men, I knew that I

would never treat a woman with anything other than love and respect.

   The thing that was always missing from my fantasy was what it

actually felt like. I mean what the guy feels when he slips it into

you, and even more important, what he feels when he comes and the

semen starts shooting out! I was not so foolish as to think that I was

about to find out, but I was excited just the same! I would look down

at a beautiful woman and see the pleasure on her face; the pleasure

she would feel as I was actually fucking her!

   Jill's voice pulled me out of my day-dreaming and I had to ask her

to repeat what she had said.

   "I said `Which one of us would you like first?'" Jodie sat next to

her on the edge of the table and they were watching me expectantly.

   "Don't worry about hurting the other's feelings, Monica," Jodie

offered. "You'll get to do us both...."

   I can't begin to explain how I made up my mind (it didn't really

matter anyway, like Jodie said) but I looked into Jill's eyes for a

long time before speaking.

   "I'd like to make love to you first," I said softly, my voice

barely audible even to myself. I quickly glanced at Jodie and was glad

to see the same friendly expression as before -- it really didn't

matter to them.

   Jill smiled and giggled just a little as she let herself fall back

gently onto the table. Jodie motioned me with her hand to come closer

as she sat next to her sister's widely spread thighs. I stepped up

hesitantly and found that I could not take my eyes from Jill's cunt!

   She was wet; moisture glistened on her blushing lips and I used my

hand as Jodie had done, guiding the head of my cock to it's beautiful

target.

   Her hot wetness warmed my fingers as I eased the head between her

lips and moved it gently up and down. I glanced at her face and was

pleased to see a look of pleasure there, even though her eyes were

closed. She appeared to be in deep concentration as I applied a small

amount of pressure with my pelvis. God, this was so kinky I couldn't

believe I was actually doing it!

   "Don't be too careful, honey," Jodie offered softly, her hand

resting gently on my nervously quivering buttocks. "Go ahead and do

it, Monica."

   I pushed in a little deeper until I felt some resistance and pulled

back slightly to draw some of the lubricant from her. Now forward

again and a few more inches of the thick shaft disappeared into her.

By the time I had introduced the entire length into her she was

smiling dreamily and breathing deeply. I watched her wonderful breasts

rise and fall and pressed forward between her thighs, making sure that

I was as deep as possible. I was surprised to feel just the slightest

bit of movement transmitted back to my mound through the length of the

dildo as she sucked her belly in and out slowly as if helping to

`rearrange things in there.'

   I grasped her firm thighs with my hands, my thumbs resting on

either side of her erect clitoris, and began to move slowly in and out

of her. Again, I was surprised at the amount of pull necessary to draw

the dildo out, retrieving about half of it before gliding back in. It

took me a little while to get coordinated, but before long I was

stroking in and out of her with a comfortable and steady rhythm.

   Jill remained silent except for an occasional loud sigh or a soft

groan as she rocked her hips to match my thrusts. Jodie offered

encouragement, assuring me that I was doing just fine. `Fucking like a

pro-stud' was the way she put it. I had to giggle at that comment, and

I was further encouraged by Jill.

   "Oh yes," she said softly as I quickened the tempo. Jodie's hand

remained on my buttocks, a guiding hand if you like, urging me on as I

began to hear flesh slapping flesh. The front of my thighs striking

Jill's buttocks made the most delicious sound, and I felt a familiar

tingle in my clitoris as the constant thrusting caused the inner

surface of the triangle to rub me there.

   A dull ache grew in my lower back as I strained to use my muscles

in this new and exciting way. I was glad to see the signs of Jill's

approaching orgasm. Her hips lost some of their steady rhythm, and she

thrust her crotch to meet my stokes more forcefully. Her breathing was

erratic and when she released the grip on her knees, she reached for

me with her arms, just as I had done! I leaned forward onto her body

as her arms and legs closed around me. Her legs gripped my buttocks

and held me firmly in place as she ground her crotch against my mound.

The breath whistled between her clenched teeth as she hugged me. I

kissed her cheek and neck as her breathing began to slow.

   When Jill opened her eyes to look at me, she smiled warmly and

kissed me full on the mouth. "I've always said that women are the

greatest lovers," she said, with a tone that told me this was no empty

remark; she genuinely meant it.

   Jodie wasted no time in reminding me that it was her turn. I was

about to say something about being really tired in my back when she

suggested that I lie down and let her "ride" me. That sounded great.

Why not get kinky since we'd gone so far already!

   I sat on the edge of the table and scuttled toward the middle.

Lying back and holding "my cock" upright I grinned at them. Jodie told

me to scoot back out to the edge; it would work better that way. I

didn't see what difference it would make, but quickly obliged. She put

me in nearly the same position as before except that I didn't need to

hold my knees up -- instead, my feet rested comfortably on the floor

as she climbed onto the table next to me.

   Jodie swung a leg over and straddled my hips. Reaching down between

her thighs, she caught the dildo in her hand. She guided the head up

between the lips of her cunt and lower her hips. I could feel the

downward pressure against my mound and used my hand to keep the dildo

straight for her. She was looking at my face, but had a glazed look as

though her thoughts were somewhere else. Doubtless they were.

   After a few rocking and lifting motions of her hips she was able to

sit down fully on my pelvis. She sat there for a few moments, slowly

moving her crotch against me and then leaned forward to put her hands

on the table next to my shoulders, supporting her upper body while she

began moving her cunt up and down on "my cock." It was obvious that

she was enjoying herself as she smiled down at me with a dreamy look

and I began to experiment with my own pelvis, sort of thrusting upward

gently to meet her as she came down.....

   We quickly established a nice steady rhythm and my mind began to

wander a little. I wondered what Jill was doing and turned my head to

look. I could see that she was behind the table but wasn't able to see

what she was doing. Jodie was apparently watching her though, because

she nodded and said: "Oh yes. That's nice. She'll love it."

   My curiosity was soon satisfied. I had returned my attention to

Jodie, thrusting upward into her and squeezing her breasts with both

hands when Jill came around the table into my field of view. She wore

a harness identical to mine, but the dildo it held was about four

inches longer! It wasn't any thicker, but it appeared to be about

twelve inches long and she supported it with her hand as she stood at

the edge of the table just to the left of my knees.

   "Oh, come on now, Monica," she laughed in delight at my expression.

"You guessed it," she said. "I'm going to fuck Jodie up the ass while

she rides you!"

   Jodie continued to rhythmically slide up and down the length of "my

cock," but I had become perfectly still, watching Jill. She had a

large tube of the familiar K-Y jelly in her other hand and she let the

dildo sag in front of her while she used both hands to twist the cap

off. My God! The thing hung nearly to her knees and I was having a

hard time believing she would really shove it up Jodie's ass. As if

reading my thoughts, Jodie put her hand on my shoulder to get my

attention.

   "It's great, Monica," she said with obvious sincerity. "You haven't

been properly fucked until you've had it this way." Then, almost an

afterthought: "You'll get it in a little while, and see what I mean."

   Jill squeezed a large blob of the jelly into her palm and coated

the head and shaft of her dildo. It glistened brightly in the light as

it drooped in front of her again while she replaced the cap. She moved

up behind her sister then and I couldn't actually see what she was

doing but I suspected she was smearing some of the K-Y around Jodie's

anus. Maybe slipping a finger into her, too, I thought, as Jodie

moaned softly in pleasure.

   Jodie stopped riding me for a moment and reached back with her

hand, apparently to assist Jill. It almost scared me when she suddenly

dropped her head onto my chest. She shuddered violently and her moans

grew louder. I tried to comfort her, hugging her to me and rubbing her

back. Jill was moving her lower body then, and I felt her knees

rubbing against my inner thighs as she began moving to and fro.

   "It's so good...." Jodie murmured, lifting her face to look at me.

She remained still for until Jill begin to speed the tempo of her

thrusts. Eyes tightly closed, Jodie raised herself from my  breast and

supported herself with her hands. Again she began to rock forward and

back. A babble of ecstatic sound poured from her mouth and I found

myself wondering when it would be "my turn."

    Jodie had a few brief periods of relative calm, but for the most

part was a wild woman. She thrust her buttocks violently onto our

well-oiled dildos, each thrust punctuated by a loud groan or moan or

an occasional instruction. "Fuck me. Fuck me," she pleaded.

   I was enthralled. When Jodie collapsed onto me in a sweating and

panting heap, I couldn't wait to discover what all the excitement was

about!

   Conscious again at last, Jodie rolled off me and reached down to

unsnap my harness.

   "Are you ready to give it a try now, Monica?" she asked, looking

into my eyes attentively. I assured her that I was indeed ready. With

trembling fingers I slipped the harness off and handed it to her. She

knelt on the table to adjust it and when she had finished, scooted to

the edge and assumed my previous position.

   As I swung my leg across her, I had a sudden moment of doubt. Did I

really want to go through with this? Jill reached out to stroke my

buttocks gently.

   "Go ahead, sweet-heart," she said softly. "Don't worry. I think

you'll really like it once we get started."

   All I needed was a little reassurance, and Jill's words were

enough. Raising my hips over Jodie, I reached down as she had done,

excited and nervous, and felt for and found the dildo. I guided the

head to my vagina and lowered myself, a little surprised at the ease

with which it slid in.

   I took a few experimental strokes up and down, feeling absolutely

vibrant as I watched over my shoulder. Jill quickly applied more K-Y

to her incredibly long dildo and stepped up close behind me. My breath

caught throat for a moment when she slipped first one and then another

finger into my rectum, swivelling them around slowly. Jodie's hands

cupped my breasts and she spoke to me in a soothing voice. I never did

know what it was that she was saying, but her voice sounded nice. Then

Jill's hand grasped my hip and the knob pushed against my anus. I

reached back to feel it slip between my fingers and slide a few inches

up into me.

   Suddenly weak, I understood why Jodie had rested her head on my

breasts at this point and felt compelled to do likewise. She hugged me

gently and stroked her hands up and down my back as I tried to relax

my rectum. I felt Jill reach the point where my bowel turned sideways.

At Jill's direction I sucked my belly in and out slowly and think I

helped her navigate the turn.

   It was much like the measurement during my first visit, but this

time the sense fullness was more intense.... and it was heavenly, just

as Jodie had said it would be. Jill now had both hands on my hips,

pulling me to her as she pushed ever deeper with the dildo. Just as I

was about to scream that I couldn't take any more, her mound pressed

firmly against my buttocks. I had taken it all.

   "Are you alright, honey?" Jill asked softly while Jodie continued

to stroke my back and hold me to her breast. I lifted my self up onto

my hands then and nodded, feeling woozy and wonderful.

   "You were right," I smiled at Jodie, hearing the strangeness in my

voice as I tried to talk. They both laughed and I leaned forward

experimentally, pulling my body up from them and feeling the most

delicious sensation as the head of Jill's dildo sucked itself free and

slid back a few inches.

   Well, that was the beginning of a wonderful learning experience for

me and I can assure you that I enjoyed it every bit as much as Jodie

had seemed to. The long thick dildos thrusting in and out gave me many

orgasms and I was exhausted when I finally collapsed onto Jodie,

unable to continue even though I would have loved to!

   When I rolled off, we spent a few minutes talking about what we had

done. When my escort came to fetch me I dressed and went home a

washed-out but very happy woman. Monday was coming. How could I

possibly wait that long?



--