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Review This Story || Author: Chris Fowler

A New Path

Part 7

Part Seven

Sheri had done exactly as instructed, and practiced nightly with her dildo, slowly becoming accustomed to taking it deep in her mouth, and to the back of her throat without gagging. Soon she had 5 of the 8 inches in her mouth easily, and even found that she could bob up and down on it quite vigorously. Feeling adventurous one evening, Sheri tried to open her throat and take it deeper, then promptly threw up all over herself. “Shit!” she exclaimed, and put the toy in her bedside drawer, and began stripping sheets off of the bed, then headed for a shower. “I need a bit more work on that!” Sheri sheepishly thought as she let the hot water wash away her cares.

Two weeks passed, and still Chris had not called her. Sheri saw him at school, but other than an occasional hello, she was totally ignored. Sheri was confused, and felt rejected and afraid. Any time she had given a man any sexual attention, they had behaved as if addicted, constantly coming at her with a hard cock, seeking sexual favors. Now here was a man who could do anything to her he wished, and he was paying zero attention to her. Sheri had her appointment with a gynecologist, was prescribed birth control pills, and practiced her oral technique. She stayed shaved cleanly, ready for Chris' call at any moment, but the phone stayed silent.

Chris spent his time away pondering this juncture in his life. He believed that if he continued to train Sheri from this point on, it would become a committed relationship, and that he could easily develop feelings for this little girl. He had more than one night of needing to relieve himself while thinking of her slender body, her smooth skin. Chris spent time online with a few fellow dominants, discussing his dilemma, and finally turned to a friend in town who he knew shared similar tastes. Over a cup of coffee in an empty shop, Mark advised Chris.

“Ok, so you seem a bit taken with this girl, but you know who you are too dude. If she cannot handle this lifestyle, all of it, you will be miserable. If she can, she could be the one for you. There are worse things than a young hottie who thinks the sun rises and sets in your pants! Sorry brother, you are not going to get a lot of sympathy from me on having to agonize over this decision. Tell ya what, push her, and push hard..”

“I have!” Chris interjected.

“Harder. Make her choose to leap off the cliff, or back away to safety. You'll know what she is capable of, and you'll know how you feel about her.” Mark sat back, finished his cup, and stood to leave.

“And if she rises to the challenge, then what?” Chris asked aloud, though he already knew the answer.

“Then congrats buddy! You have a new partner, not just a short-term fuck toy. See ya.”

Mark left, knowing Chris was deep in thought, and a long way away. Time passed, and Chris was staring at an empty chair long after the coffee had gone cold.

Monday in class, Chris walked up to Sheri, touched her shoulder lightly, and said, “Tonight, 7 pm, my house.” And walked away.

Sheri was a bundle of emotions in that moment, and it overwhelmed her. She sat stunned, trying to get a grip on how she felt. Anxious, happy, nervous, scared, and a bit angry at being left waiting so long, then just a callous announcement as to when she should be ready to perform. ‘Arrogant prick!' she thought. Then it occurred to her that in any other situation, that would be a perfectly valid feeling, but Chris was behaving perfectly in character. Completely unable to concentrate, Sheri blew off the rest of her classes that day, and went home to get herself ready.

At 6:57 pm, Sheri's pulled up into the driveway at Chris' house, turned off her car, checked her makeup in the mirror, and got out. Her 4” heels clicking a bit too loudly for her taste, Sheri walked briskly to the front door. Chris had not specified what she should wear, so she chose a short, black skirt, a button-up blouse, and had put her hair in a tight braid against her neck. Under this were no bra and a white g-string to go with the black heels. She looked like a million dollars, like the kind of girl most men would fawn over, but that was not how her night would go, and she knew it.

When she reached the door, there was a 3x5 index card taped to the door. In Chris' simple blocky letters, it simply commanded, “Come inside, close the door.” Sheri did. The smell of brewing coffee and roasted chicken was very strong, and Sheri began to salivate a bit, anticipating one of Chris' meals. Just inside the door was a bar stool with another index card. “Strip, go straight to the bathroom.” Butterflies beginning to form in her stomach, Sheri undressed quietly and folded her clothes. These she placed on the bar stool, and walked down the hall towards the bathroom. Chris was in the kitchen stirring something on the stove, but had is back to her, and although Sheri was sure he knew she was in the hallway, never turned or acknowledged her presence in any way.

Once in the restroom, Sheri found a third note taped to the mirror. This one was on regular lined paper, and contained a bit more information.

‘Sheri, Use the restroom as necessary, and then return to the living room. There is a collar, blindfold, and a ball-gag on the coffee table. Put these items on. Do not speak. Kneel next to the table. Do not move without being commanded to do so. Do not disappoint me tonight. Chris.'

In the kitchen, Chris was putting the last touches on the buttered garlic noodles as he heard Sheri close the bathroom door. He poured a fresh cup of Joe, turned off the heat under the noodles, and went to the front door. He removed the note from the door and the bar stool, took Sheri's clothes to the guest room along with the bar stool, and returned to the kitchen. Moments later, the door to the bathroom opened, light footfalls were heard in the hall, then the light jingling of buckles in the living room. Silence.

Emotionally, Chris was a wreck. He wanted Sheri to succeed and fail tonight in equal measures, but knew that either way, tonight would decide everything. She would either be his partner, or she would buckle under the expectations and the pressure. In all of their previous encounters, Chris had maintained a level of detachment and yet been supportive and kind. Now if Sheri remained, he would no longer be able to ignore his feelings for her, and would have to begin thinking longer-term. That would prompt all kinds of new discussions. Most of which are common to all relationships, but a few of which are unique to those who engage in a BDSM lifestyle.

Sheri was also a bundle of nerves. She was a bit frightened by the message “do not disappoint me.” She became aware of the plethora of emotional states all warring for control. Sheri was nervous, happy to be here, reassured by Chris' presence, confused by the silent treatment, and more than a bit horny she admitted to herself. She could hear Chris walking around the kitchen, heard the soft jazz playing in the background, even heard him humming along, but never was she spoken to. So lost in thought was she, that the knock on the door made her jump and squeal in alarm. Behind her gag, however, the sound barely registered.

“Coming!” Chris stated, and she felt and heard him walk past her towards the door. ‘He'll tell whomever it is to go away surely' Sheri thought. But to her horror, Chris opened the door, and said “Hey man! Good to see you.”

“You too chief!” came the reply, followed by the loud slapping of male hugs and greetings. The door closed.

“Have a seat, dinner is almost done” Chris pronounced, and headed back to the kitchen.

Sheri felt a second person walk between her and the couch, heard him sit down, and was mortified! ‘How can this be happening? He is sitting right next to me, I am totally naked, and now TWO men are acting like I am invisible!' Sheri had never been so unsure of herself in her whole life. She was embarrassed beyond measure, and seriously considered removing her gag and blindfold, throwing her collar at Chris, and giving him a piece of her mind, or just slinking away. Then she realized, once again, Chris was perfectly in character, and from her earlier lesson remembered his remonstrations about her pride, her modesty, and that he would, for his pleasure, embarrasses her. So she did the only thing she could do, remained silent and still.

Mark was staring at the blindfolded, gagged young beauty as he walked past and had a seat. ‘Jesus! Chris was not kidding at all! This chick is hot as hell, and very submissive.' Both Chris and Mark had believed, while putting this evening's test together, that Sheri would simply quit, that this would be too much for the dignity of someone so young to endure. But there she knelt, naked and shaven, hands clasped behind her back, nipples erect and on display.

“Mind if I turn on the Mariner's game while I wait?” Mark asked.

Chris brought out a cup of coffee and set it in front of Mark. “Be my guest. Who is kicking our ass tonight?”

“Anaheim, 3-1 top of the 5 th .” Mark relayed.

“Huh, figures.” Chris replied. Further conversation ended as the game was turned on, and at least Sheri had something to listen to while she waited.

Fifteen minutes later, dinner was served. Chris set out a plate in front of Mark, and made a bowl for Sheri. Dinner consisted of sage rubbed roasted chicken, buttered garlic noodles, and steamed asparagus. Sheri's was picked off the bone, and cut into bite-sized morsels. He set this, along with a small bowl of water and a paper towel to Sheri's right.

“Turn and face me.” Chris ordered. Sheri did, and Chris stepped forward, removed her gag, then her blindfold, and waited for her to adjust to the light in the room. When she was looking at him, Chris continued. “Do not speak, do not look anywhere but straight ahead or down at your food. I will not bind your hands, but you are not allowed to use them for eating. Once you have finished, and drank all your water, wipe your mouth and face using the towel, then replace your gag and blindfold. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Sheri replied meekly but clearly. Chris was very pleased by this show of discipline and obedience, but kept his face neutral.

“Good.” He stated, lightly rubbing her cheek. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Mark and Chris enjoyed their dinners immensely, watching Sheri's delicious backside push high in the air as she began eating her meal. Both men had erections, and sported silly grins as they contemplated this evening's entertainment.

Sheri's emotions were in turmoil. She was truly humiliated by this treatment, but knew she was being evaluated. Still, it was one thing for Chris to see her like this, make her do things she had never done before, but for a complete stranger to see her like this was too much. She briefly considered telling Chris and his guest to go to hell, and leave, but she vividly remembered the feelings of loss and loneliness when Chris had shunned her for her misbehavior before. Sheri realized she was rapidly developing feelings for Chris, and as much as it scared her, she needed this high, the rush she got from this treatment as much as she needed Chris himself. Despite any misgivings, Sheri was a bit excited about the prospect of serving two men, and a pleasant tingle of anticipation joined the nervous butterflies in her stomach. She finished dinner quickly, drank her fill of the water in the bowl, wiped her mouth, nose, and hands, and then as instructed, replaced her gag and blindfold.

Chris and Mark enjoyed a leisurely dinner and the plates were cleared away. Chris poured more coffee. The baseball game ended, another resounding failure for the Mariners, and with a sigh, the TV was turned off.

“So this is the girl who has been the subject of so many conversations.” Mark began, flashing Chris a wink. “Kinda cute, but not much to her is there? Stand up girl.”

Sheri stood in place, and turned to face the voice addressing her.

“Still, let's have a look at you.” Sheri felt Mark move closer, he sniffed the back of her neck, and she shied away a bit. “Skittish, but smells nice!” Mark continued.

Chris' voice gave orders, fast, clipped, broaching no argument. “Stand still! Spread your legs farther, hands behind your neck!” Sheri's face was bright red, and she felt as if she might pass out, but she complied with Chris' instructions. Then she felt hands on her skin.

Mark reached around and cupped Sheri's smallish breasts with his large hands. By the size of them, and his body pressing up against her back, Sheri knew Mark was a big man. Mark kneaded the soft flesh, and then lightly tweaked Sheri's nipples, grinning at Chris as he elicited a small moan, then let his hands wander down to her shaven sex. Mark's fingers spread her lips, and probed her wet inner depths.

“She's soaked, little slut likes this doesn't she dude?” Mark asked with a wink. Chris sipped his coffee, enjoying watching the emotions running across Sheri's face.

“Yeah, she does. She is still a bit too proud and modest for my liking, but she is learning. On a base level however, se loves this treatment, and responds strongly to it every time.”

“How are her oral skills?” Mark inquired.

Chris chuckled, and his cock twitched from memory of Sheri's oral manipulations. “Enthusiastic, a bit shallow, but very talented. Try her out.”

Sheri could not believe what she was hearing. This locker room conversation was happening right in front of her as if she were not even there, and here was Chris inviting another person to receive sexual favors from her. She was aware of her own arousal and wetness, but felt dirty and ashamed at the same time. Not for the first time since she began training with Chris, Sheri wondered if she were out of her depth.

“Don't mind if I do!” came the eager response. “Kneel!”

Sheri did, and Mark unbuckled the ball gag, pulling it out of her mouth with an audible ‘pop'. Sheri heard a zipper, and cloth parting, then the feel of a cock touching her lips. “Suck slut!” Mark ordered. Half a heartbeat of hesitation and doubt ran through Sheri's mind, and she knew inside that with this act, there would be no turning back, no return to or satisfaction from a “normal” sex life. Then obediently, she opened her mouth, accepted a stranger's cock, and began giving head. Now it was Mark's turn to moan, as he held Sheri's ponytail, and guided her rhythm. “Damn, she is good!” Mark exclaimed as he drove himself deeper into Sheri's throat.

‘Mark is hung like a stallion!' Chris thought, clearly excited watching his young submissive suck for all she was worth. ‘Sheri has been practicing too, she is not gagging!' This clearly pleased Chris, and it showed a level of self-discipline and dedication to a task unusual in someone so young.

At that moment, Sheri was concurring with Chris' assessment of Mark's endowment. Where Chris' cock was 8” in length, and about the diameter of Sheri's wrist, Mark had to be at least 10”, and thicker to boot! Sheri felt like her jaws would pop as she tried her best to keep her teeth away from that monster member. After several minutes of sucking and stroking, Mark was still clearly enjoying himself, but gave no indication of approaching orgasm, and Sheri began to feel a bit of panic.

‘I can hardly breathe, and my mouth is getting tired! I hope he cums soon!' Mark had other plans.

“Well her mouth is as good as advertised, what else can she do?” he asked Chris.

“What do you want her to do?” came the reply.

Mark thought about it for a minute, then replied, I'd like to stripe this whore's ass, then give her some deep dicking if that's ok with you.”

Sheri thought to herself, surely this will be where Chris' generosity ends, but to her horror, Chris agreed.

“Be my guest, I'll get her set up, but remember, anal only. Her pussy is mine alone!”

With that, Mark withdrew from Sheri's mouth and zipped up. “Is there more coffee?”

Chris walked over and helped Sheri to her feet. Guiding her down the hall by her ponytail, he replied. “Yep, just a bit. Go ahead and finish the pot off, I'll make more. I'll let you know when she's ready.”

Sheri was lead on shaking legs down the hall, and into the guest room she knew so well. Chris never spoke to her other than to say “left” or “right”. He positioned her on the futon, on her stomach, with her hips slightly elevated with a pillow under them. Chris restrained her wrists and ankles, and then replaced the ball gag. Sheri whimpered slightly in fear, but this drew no reaction from Chris. She felt her anus being lubricated liberally, and Chris kissed her between the shoulder blades before he left the room. Alone in the dark, unable to speak, Sheri waited in fear. Suddenly a terrible realization dawned on her, Chris had forgotten to give her the cricket, the noisemaker that signaled an end to the session.

‘No, he did not forget!' Sheri reasoned. ‘He deliberately did not give me a way out tonight. This is for real!'

Chris was very proud of Sheri, and worried for her as well. He knew Mark well enough to know he would work her hard, and that Sheri's ass was in for a rough time with that monster cock Mark was packing. He likes elements of Mark's style working a sub, though this was their first time doing so in each other's presence. They had discussed theory and previous experiences in great depth. Mark was more physical, louder, where Chris was more cerebral and intense. One difference Chris noted immediately was the derogatory language. Mark referred to the sub as “slut” or “whore”. It was a technique designed to break down sense of self-importance, and establish a higher state of being for the dominant, but it was not a technique Chris was fond of, and did not use. Still, every Dom had his own shtick, and if applied consistently, fairly, and with common sense, most were effective at getting the type of sub that particular Master wanted.

As he walked into the hall, Mark was waiting with a fresh, steaming cup of coffee, and a shit-eating grin. Chris pulled the door closed, and spoke softly.

“Give her 3 or 4 minutes to worry, let her imagination build this up before you go in there.” Mark nodded in agreement. “What are you gonna stripe her with?” Chris asked.

Pointing at his waist, Mark replied, “My belt. How much can she take?”

Grinning widely, Chris answered. “More than you'd think, but I would like to cap it at 40 or 50 tonight.”

“Intensity?” Mark requested.

“Don't break skin, but bring it.”

“And her ass, how experienced is she?”

Chris paused, “Not very….maybe half a dozen times.”

“Hmm…want me to take it easy on her then?” Mark looked concerned.

“No! She's no virgin, and is well lubed. Ride her hard then see how she is afterwards. Make her clean you too, she has been taught well so far.”

“I have no doubts!” Mark complimented. He looked at his watch. “Game time!”

“Enjoy!” Chris encouraged, and walked to the kitchen.

Mark opened the door, and took a deep breath. Sheri's sexy body, taught and lean was splayed out for his visual enjoyment. Her tight little bottom slightly elevated provided a tempting target. She had a slight sheen of sweat on her skin, nervous perspiration, and the room smelled musky from it combined with her arousal. Mark breathed in deeply, and closed the door behind him.

“Ok slut, my boy thinks you might be something special. I remain to be convinced. You COULD be all that he needs, or you could be a pretender, just out for a thrill, something deviant to get you wet, makes you feel rebellious. I assure you I am going to find out.”

Mark began undressing as he spoke to Sheri, and she heard the familiar sound of a leather belt being drawn through the loops. It made her shiver.

“So here it is girl, your one chance. I am either going to thoroughly whip your ass with this belt, then fuck your ass like I am trying to break it, or I am going to leave this room now. You have done nothing wrong; you are not in trouble. You simply turn me on, and I like hearing women cry, moan, and scream. I love seeing them squirm and struggle, and I really love tight girl asses! I am going to hurt you because it amuses me, and because as a submissive, that should be reason enough for you to cry for the next hour of so.”

As Mark finished his soliloquy, he doubled he belt over, and pulled it taught, making the well-oiled leather creak. Sheri was beyond terror, this man could hurt her very badly, but she still wanted to please Chris, to be with him, and despite her misgivings, fear, pain, or humiliation, that meant pleasing this man. She trusted Chris, and Chris was near by, surely he would not let anything happen to her.

“So is it enough of a reason whore? Shake your head yes or no, last chance, once I begin, there is no stopping me.”

Sheri, with tears already wetting the inside of her blindfold, nodded yes immediately. Mark was shocked.

‘I'll be damned, I laid it on pretty thick, played up all the bad shit, and this little girl still wants to go through with it. Chris might have gotten luckier than he realizes.'

Sheri heard the swish of air, and the resounding “crack” as the belt crashed across her ass cheeks. A second later, the pain followed, and it was the worst she had ever felt. Her back arched, she pulled inward on the restraints, bit the gag, and howled with all her might. She felt like she would die! Then the second stroke landed, just an inch below the first, and she saw stars.

Chris heard the distinct crack of leather on skin from the kitchen where he was making coffee and doing dinner dishes. Sheri's muffled trill of pain wafted in behind it.

‘Jesus! He really is bringing it!' His stomach did a small flip-flop of concern as then next resounding blow landed. Chris sighed, and returned to the dishes.

By the time #10 had landed, Sheri was thrashing around on the bed, shaking her head ‘no', and screaming words at Mark through the gag. Although he could not make any of them out, he had no doubts that she was reconsidering her decision to endure this session. Mark did not relent; he kept bringing strokes at a steady pace. Eleven….twelve….thirteen….on and on it went. Sheri thought she would go insane, hoped she'd pass out, fantasized that Chris would come save her. None of which happened. She simply kept screaming, and Mark kept whipping.

‘Well this will either scare the little slut straight, or she's a bondage bitch forever.' Mark thought as he passed stroke 28. Sheri's ass was an unbroken series of welts with raised white edges. Some of these were starting to turn purple and bruise. Mark worked lower, hitting her upper thighs where they met her ass, and the backs of her legs. Every muscle in Sheri's back, arms, and legs stood out, clearly defined with the strain as she fought the restraints, and she was now sweating profusely. Mark had an erection that could drill through bedrock.

Stroke 40 landed behind Sheri's knees, and she howled, but didn't thrash much. She was spent, and her muscles felt like Jell-O. The pain was everywhere; she could not identify any part that hurt more than another. Mark seemed to be building up to a crescendo, and Sheri believed 50 strokes was his goal. Her throat was raw from screaming into the gag, but then end was in sight. 47. Mark was bringing the belt down in a more rapid tempo. Sheri was so close…48..49.50. One last howl! A pause, only Sheri's tortured sobs an Mark's labored breathing could be heard.

51! ‘NOOOOOO!' Sheri howled into the gag, clearly audible this time. Her mind unable to comprehend that she might not be done. But she was, no 52 nd stroke followed, and she felt Mark's hands on her skin.

“Shhhhh! All done, relax, all done!” he soothed. Though his hands felt like sandpaper on Sheri's tortured skin, she welcomed the gentle treatment.

Chris had been counting to himself, and started for the door when he heard the 51 st lash applied, and then came up short. He chuckled aloud. “You prick!” he muttered. Chris knew every human instinctively latched on to even numbers, usually 10's. You'd either get 10 lashes or 20. Not 25 or 27. So when Sheri got to 50, half of 100, that was a very natural stopping point, an accomplishment. By adding stroke 51, Mark had shattered that security in numbers, and made her believe, if only for a second, that 100 was his goal after all. Shitty, but effective. Then again, Mark was the psych major!

Back in the room, Mark spoke to a much calmer Sheri.

“Thank you Sheri, I thoroughly enjoyed using your skin like that. But we're not done yet! You see, all that whipping and crying got me all riled up, so I will be fucking you now.”

Mark settled his weight onto Sheri, an under his 6'3”, 265 lb frame, she disappeared. Sheri's whining behind the gag began to intensify again in anticipation of the upcoming anal assault.

‘Oh my GOD! His cock is HUGE!' Sheri's mind rebelled at the enormity of what was getting ready to happen. She still was not entirely comfortable with Chris' cock up her ass, and it had been two weeks since she had been fucked. ‘I don't think it will fit!'

Mark looked at Sheri's red, welted ass cheeks, spread them with one hand, was briefly tempted by the sight of that pretty, tiny pink pussy, then grinned and put his bulbous head up against Sheri's rosebud, and began applying pressure.

“Mphhhh!” Sheri articulated into the gag as the pressure increased. ‘It's not going to fit!' she though to herself as both the pain and the discomfort increased. Mark was being impatient; his state of arousal not being conducive to taking his time, and Sheri was highly stressed. ‘He is not giving me time to relax! I just need him to give me a second! It's not going to ….AAARRGGGHHHH!' It fit. Sheri's tiny asshole suddenly yielded to the pressure, and opened up wider and deeper than it ever had in about a second. Her bowels spasmed and cramped, and she felt like her asshole was on fire! Mark exclaimed “Oh Yeah!” This reminded Sheri, rather absurdly, of the old 70's Kool-Aid commercials. She probably would have laughed, but she couldn't breath, and felt like someone was driving a telephone pole up her ass.

Mark, however, was feeling much better about the situation as his cock was wrapped inside a warm velvet glove. Sheri's ass was tighter than anything he had ever felt, and her clenching muscled were massaging him even if he tried to hold still. He did not try! Mark fucked Sheri's ass in a rapid, steady cadence, and too soon for his liking, came with a loud grunt, then moaned aloud as the tightness of Sheri's ass milked him dry. He collapsed on the sobbing girl in a sweaty, exhausted heap.

For Sheri, it was a relief beyond measure. Marks prodigious cock began to shrink almost at once, and the pressure relented with it. She felt almost giddy with adrenaline as she realized her ordeal was over. She had done it! She had pleased Chris' friend, made him cum. Surely now Chris would have faith in her commitment to him, would spend time with her again, would hold her.

Mark withdrew, walked to the head of the futon on wobbly legs, unbuckled Sheri's gag, and said, “I am taking this out so you can clean me, got it? No talking unless I say otherwise.” Sheri nodded affirmative, and Mark pulled the bright red ball free of her mouth. Sheri worked her sore jaws for a moment, and then opened her mouth. She gagged a bit at the strong taste of her own ass, but did the best job cleaning she could without being able to move. When he was satisfied, Mark withdrew his cock, and spoke again.

“Thank you for the use of your body. It brought me pleasure.”

Sheri sniffled, not sure what to say, then in a tiny voice, with a raw throat, said, “Thank you for using it Sir.”

Mark shook his head in wonder, and pressed the gag back to Sheri's lips.

“Open.” He commanded, and popped it in. He gathered his clothes, and opened he door.

Chris was sitting on the couch, and nodded when Mark came into the living room.

“Well?” He asked.

“She's as good as you said, and more. Congrats dude, you're gonna have a ball with this one!” Mark pointed toward the bathroom. “Mind if I catch a quick shower?”

“Blue towel is sitting on the sink for you already.” Chris replied.

After his shower, Mark dressed again, and wrapped up the evening. There wasn't much more to say, so both he and Chris kept it brief, exchanged hugs, and agreed to get together early next week. Then he left, whistling tunelessly on his way to the car.

Sheri had heard the shower, the muffled conversation, and the front door close. She was still spread eagle on her stomach, gagged and blindfolded, and uncomfortable. Her butt and thighs were a road map of welts and bruises; she could feel the heat radiating from them. Her asshole was raw and felt ripped, and cum was leaking out of it. Every muscle in her body ached. Sheri wanted a shower and some sleep, but so far, seemed to be forgotten about.

Then she heard footsteps approaching, and thought to herself, ‘finally!' Weight on the futon next to her, but it was not Chris' touch that she had been long anticipating. These were delicate hands with fingernails tracing her whip prints. Sheri faintly smelled perfume.

“So this is the little pretty that has your attention lately?”

From the doorway she heard Chris' voice. “Yep, that's her Terri!” Then with a mischievous tone of voice, “Do you still want to play with her a bit?”

Lilting laughter answered him. “Of course, but I need to clean her up a bit first Chris.”

“Well you know where everything is, take good care of her.”

Sheri felt a knot form in her stomach as she realized her night was far from being over.


Review This Story || Author: Chris Fowler
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