Amy's Shame

AMY'S SHAME - A Story by Ginny and Amy

                          AMY'S SHAME - A Story by Ginny and Amy

                              AMY'S SHAME  pt 1

"That's it! Now I've got that bitch!" Jamie slammed shut the folder she 
was holding and reached for the phone on her desk. She dialed her boss's 
three digit intercom number and when a man answered, she asked for an 
appointment. "Three o'clock?" he asked. Jamie smiled that superior smile 
that made everyone hate her as she answered, "Thanks. I'll see you  then."

For more than a year, Jamie had been seething about the way Amy, or 
"Miss Goody Two-Shoes" as Jamie disdainfully referred to her behind her 
back, had made a success of her career while ingratiating herself with 
their boss, Tom Phillips. Now, Jamie's persistence in stalking Amy had
paid off. The folder on her desk contained all the evidence she needed
to get Amy tossed out of the Exchange on her "bony ass." The evidence 
had come from a friend of Jamie's at the SEC who had found the missing
piece of evidence that Amy had given "inside information" to her father 
to use playing the market.

Now that she had the proof, Jamie was going to her boss and permanently 
remove Amy's annoying presence from her life forever. She met her mother 
Barbara for lunch and told her how she planned to use the file to 
destroy Amy's budding career. Barbara was silent throughout the meal, 
but when they kissed as they parted, Barbara whispered, "If you get rid 
of her, how do you know her replacement won't be worse? Why not use
what  you have to ensure she doesn't just stop annoying you, but gives you 
pleasure and even a little entertainment as well. The information you 
have is enough to keep her in her place so to speak."

On her way back to the office, Jamie thought about her mother's advice. 
Barbara had proved her wisdom as a mentor in many varied ways and
Jamie trusted her advice. By the time she got back to her desk, she'd made
up her mind! Since it was a Friday, she called her boss and rescheduled 
their meeting for Monday morning. Then she called Amy's secretary and 
made an appointment to see her rival as close to quitting time as 
possible. All afternoon, Jamie prepared herself for their meeting. She
wanted it to sound just right when she delivered her ultimatum.
At four o'clock, Jamie appeared at Amy's door. The tall, slender Amy 
rose from her desk to meet Jamie halfway into her office. "My secretary 
said you wanted to see me. What's it about, Jamie? I'm pretty busy right 
now. I've got several deadlines coming due." Jamie grinned her "bitchy" 
smile and gently closed the door behind her, leaning against it and 
locking it silently without Amy's knowledge. Once she was sure they 
wouldn't be disturbed, she sat on the corner of Amy's desk and crossed
her long, shapely legs. In the office she usually wore her skirts just
above the knee, but at night when she was clubbing with her friends, she 
wore skirts as short as possible to show off what she considered her  
best asset, her long legs.

Jamie knew all the girls were jealous of her legs, that's why she had  crossed them so dramatically, to 
annoy Amy. "How're your fathers investments doing," she asked 
insincerely. Amy sniffed. "I don't think that's any of your business,"
she snapped. "If that's what you came to talk about, you can leave now." 
Jamie held up the folder and waved it under Amy's nose. "I don't think
so, Amy-girl." Amy hated it when Jamie called her that. The first time
she'd done it in public Amy bristled and told her in no uncertain terms 
to knock it off. Jamie had never done it in public again, but whenever
the two of them were alone (which Amy 
made sure wasn't often) that's what Jamie called her. 

She only did it because she loved the way Amy's face flushed and her 
nostrils flared with anger, but Amy was too dumb to ever figure that 
out. Once, about six months ago, Amy had gotten so mad she'd tried to 
slap the shorter Jamie when she called her "Amy-girl." Jamie had 
anticipated her reaction, however, and had easily caught her by the 
wrist and twisted her arm behind her back. Jamie had marched Amy to the 
wall and pinned her there until she began to whimper and beg her to 
release her. Ever since that day, Amy had been intimidated by her co-worker. 

Now, when Jamie refused to leave her office, Amy was unsure of what to
do. Finally she sighed, "Well," she said, her tone revealing her 
uncertainty of what to do, "then I'm going to leave because I don't 
intend to discuss my family's financial affairs with you." Amy brushed
past Jamie's long legs and reached for the doorknob. Since Jamie had 
locked it, Amy had to fumble with the lock which gave Jamie time to grab 
her from behind by the scruff of the neck and turn her around. 

Jamie leaned close and Amy shrank back against the wall  to avoid the 
press of Jamie's full breasts against her own smaller ones. Amy looked
down into Jamie's eyes and then, suddenly, Jamie saw her expression 
change. Amy steeled herself and glared at the shorter woman. Amy was 
5-7, several inches taller than Jamie although the short woman 
outweighed her by a good ten pounds because of her toned and 
well-developed figure. "Don't do anything stupid, Amy-girl," Jamie 
chided as she held the tall girl by the neck, her fingers slowly 
squeezing and relaxing in a hypnotic rhythm, "I've got everything in 
this file I need to ruin you and your precious father as well."

Amy looked dumbly at the manila folder Jamie held clutched in her fist. 
"Wha . . . what's in it?" she asked. It was all Jamie could do not to 
laugh at the brunette's dazed expression. "It's a complete file 
detailing all of the information you gave your father about the deals 
you've been doing for the firm the past few years. I can prove the two
of you have been using "inside information" to make money in the 
market." Amy's body went limp and she pulled away from Jamie's grasp and 
dropped into a chair. Her hands trembled as she gripped the arms 
tightly. "What . . . what are you going to do about it?" she croaked. 

Jamie was enjoying watching Amy's distress and she hated to tell her
and end her suspense, but time was getting short if her plan was going to 
come off on schedule. "I was going to take it to Mr. Phillips," she 
said. At the sound of her boss's name, Amy turned pale and gave a
sudden gasp. Jamie watched the rapid rise and fall of Amy's petite breasts 
inside her designer silk blouse and it was all she could do to keep
from laughing as she thought about what she was going to do to the haughty 
brunette in the weeks ahead.

Jamie saw Amy's eyes tearing as she thought of her and her father 
spending the next twenty years in jail. The disgrace of having her 
husband and daughter in jail might even kill her mother. She only
dimly heard Jamie's voice as she continued to speak, "But I thought that's
not really fair. After all, you're young and you're entitled to make a 
mistake.' Isn't that right, Amy-girl?" Jamie lifted Amy's limp wrist, 
taking her hand in her own and brushing a tear from the young woman's 
cheek. Amy eagerly bobbed her head. "Oh yes, Jamie, yes. That's right,
it was a mistake. I swear I'll never do it again. I won't forget you for 
this. I'd do anything to repay you for not reporting me." Jamie chuckled 
out loud. Poor naïve Amy was making it so easy she was taking all the 
fun out of her triumph.

"You will," Jamie said in a monotone. Amy looked up in surprise, "Huh?
I don't understand." Jamie laughed her "bitch-laugh" again. Everyone 
loathed her for it because she only did it when she had the upper hand
over someone. "I was going to report you and have you fired, in fact,
I still may, but I thought we might work it out between the two of us 
instead." Seeing that poor Amy was still confused, Jamie explained in 
detail what she had planned. When she heard it, Amy gasped and refused
to participate in Jamie's "sick game." But Jamie took her time and 
calmly explained how much more difficult Amy would find her life in 
prison compared to the course that Jamie had plotted for her. 

Amy wouldn't have agreed if it were merely her own life, but the thought 
of  her father spending  the next twenty years in jail as well was too
much. She heaved a resigned sigh and reluctantly nodded her head. 
"Alright Jamie," she gasped, "I'll do anything to keep Daddy out of 
jail. When do you want to start?"  "Here's the address," Jamie said, 
tossing a folded slip of paper on Amy's cluttered desk. "Be there at 
eight sharp tonight." Seeing hesitation in Amy's face, Jamie added 
ominously, "If you're not there on time, I'm going to Phillips with
the folder. If you're lucky, they'll let you clean out your desk before
they haul you off to jail." 

Amy began to perspire heavily. She knew that Jamie was the kind of a 
cruel bitch who'd get off on seeing her dragged out of the office in 
handcuffs. With a heavy sigh, Amy nodded her head, "All right, I'll be
there." As Jamie turned to go, Amy added with a tremor in her voice,
"I hope you don't expect too much though, I've never made love to a woman
before." Now it was Jamie who was surprised. That was when she realized 
that Amy still had no clue to the terrible things she had planned for 
her. It increased her excitement.

"Don't worry, Amy-girl," Jamie said gently, "I'm sure you know how to
do everything I'll require of you. Who knows, you might even enjoy it." 
With that, she unlocked the door and strode confidently back to her
own office where she picked up the phone and punched in a speed dial number 
"Hi Mom," she said conspiratorially, "It's all set. She's supposed to
be there at eight tonight, but I doubt she has the guts to go through
with it. She'll probably run home, pack her shit and head for the airport 
with her old man." 

Barbara listened quietly until her daughter was finished and then 
disagreed with her, "I don't think so, Jamie. There's something about 
Amy that makes me believe she'll show up right on time. After all, she
and her father will need a few days to liquidate their holdings, if 
nothing more. She'll have to play along with you to buy time, that's the 
key! Once we get our hands on her, we can beat down her resistance in
no time. Who knows if she likes it, you'll have your own personal 
plaything?"

Jamie was becoming aroused by the thought of having "Miss 
Goody-Two-Shoes" at her mercy and she began to look forward to eight 
o'clock and hoped Amy wouldn't disappoint her. "After all," Jamie 
thought, "It'd be a lot more fun to make that cunt my slave than to
have her escape my wrath altogether." The more she thought about it, the
more delicious the prospect seemed.

Amy got home that evening with a heavy heart. She had a lot to think 
about as she walked the street to her apartment. As she climbed the 
stairs to her one bedroom apartment, she thought about her father who 
had been ill lately. The shock of prison and losing the family fortune
might be too great for him. Even worse, her mother still thought she was 
the greatest kid in the world and the disappointment of seeing her in 
jail would destroy the bond of trust that had built up over the past 28 
years. "I know that bitch," Amy thought, "She wants something from me,
maybe inside information she can use herself. I'll go to her house and
see what's up. Even if she forces me to have sex with her, how bad can
it be?" Amy had never been with a woman before, but like many women, 
she'd often fantasized about what it would be like. "Now, I guess I'll
have a chance to find out," she mused.

That evening, promptly at eight, Amy rang the doorbell at a large, 
brownstone townhouse. The door was opened by a tall woman in a maid's 
outfit who, on hearing Amy's name, showed her to a small drawing room 
and gestured to a chair. "Wait there, Madam will be with you shortly."

She silently disappeared, leaving Amy alone in the dim light. She
looked around at the walls covered with leather-bound volumes. 
"Jamie must certainly be doing well in the market," she thought to 
herself.

After several minutes two women appeared in the doorway. One was Jamie
and the other, surprisingly, was her mother Barbara whom Amy had met at 
the office. Barbara was dressed all in black and upon seeing Amy's 
quizzical expression, Jamie waved her hand toward the older woman and 
announced, "This is my mother Barbara. You've met before, I believe?. 
From now on, if you're permitted to speak to her at all, you'll refer
to her simply as Barbara, or Mistress Barbara. Is that clear?" Amy 
swallowed hard and nodded silently. This wasn't what she'd expected.
Barbara approached Amy and motioned her to rise. As did, her knees
shook  with fright. Up close, she realized that Barbara was older than she'd
appeared at first. She must have been in her early fifties although
she could pass for a woman much younger. She was obviously vain about her 
appearance and, judging from her firm thighs and muscular calves,
she'd  spent time in the gym. It wasn't often Amy met a woman who could 
intimidate her with just a look, but Barbara was such a woman. Looking
past Barbara, Amy spoke directly to Jamie who had a broad grin on her 
lips, "OK, I'm here. What do you want me to do?" Jamie walked slowly to 
Amy and put her right hand lightly on her shoulder. "I expect you todo 
exactly as you're told, Amy-girl. Otherwise, you and your precious 
father will spend tonight in jail." She pushed and Amy toppled onto
her ass on the sofa behind her.

Jamie sat down facing Amy and eyed her closely. "I think you're 
overdressed for this evening's 
entertainment," she said, "Take off your clothes." Amy had expected it
and wasn't surprised by the order. She was certain that Jamie intended
to force her to perform oral sex on her, and perhaps Barbara as well, in 
exchange for her silence about the inside trading. She'd been thinking
about it all afternoon and had not only resigned herself to it, but
had surprisingly found the prospect excited her. She rose and slowly
removed her dress and half-slip, leaving her in her bra, pantyhose and
panties.

Jamie studied her and then nodded, "I'm surprised, frankly," she 
admitted. "After watching you in the office for a year, I hadn't 
expected you'd even look this good." Amy wasn't sure if Jamie was 
complimenting of her body or criticizing of her office attire. Jamie 
waved her hand impatiently and told Amy to continue. She took a deep 
breath, reached behind her and unhooked her bra. As it slid down her 
arms, she inhaled to expand her chest and make her small breasts
appear as full as possible. It was, of course, a futile and unnecessary 
attempt, for as soon as she exhaled Jamie would see her little breasts
in their natural state. But she did it anyway.

Amy hated the breasts God had given her and she wished she'd gotten 
implants many years ago as she'd wanted to. But she'd lacked the courage 
and even recent revelations about the silicone implants hadn't made
her feel any better about the decision. She bent from the waist and rolled
her pantyhose down her long, slender legs. "At least, while I'm bending 
over it makes my breasts seem larger," she thought as she looked down 
beneath her chest. She rose, tossed her pantyhose to Jamie and posed
for her provocatively in her bikinis.

Jamie didn't seem to be impressed and told her to get on with it. She 
took off her panties and dropped them on top of her dress. "Now what?"
she asked with a note of fear. Amy was surprised the way her voice 
cracked with emotion and quivered as she spoke. Jamie heard it and had
to suppress a smile. "Turn around," she ordered her. Amy pirouetted to
give Jamie a brief look at her tight behind which considered her best 
body part after her hair. Jamie nodded as if Amy had passed some sort
of test and rose, "Come with me."

With more than a little trepidation, Amy silently followed Jamie up a 
long, curving flight of stairs to the second floor. At the top of the 
stairs, Jamie opened a door, "Go in and lie down, I'll join you 
shortly." Amy entered and paused at the side of a large, canopied bed.

She heard the door lock behind her and heaved a sigh. She knelt on the
sheets and slowly spread herself across the large bed. Unsure of whether 
Jamie wanted her on her belly or back, she laid on her side with her 
back to the door. Whatever was about to happen, she didn't want to see
it coming!

She didn't know how long she lay there, it seemed forever. All the 
while, thoughts of making love to Jamie ran through her brain. She 
wasn't looking forward to it, that was certain! Not that Jamie wasn't an 
attractive woman, for she certainly was. With her full, firm breasts, 
flat stomach and long, taut legs, she was anything a man, or woman for
that matter, could ask for in a lover. Except for her personality! 
Outwardly, Jamie seemed nice enough, but her character had a hard
edge. She could be domineering, inflexible and demanding for no apparent 
reason. In short, she could be a bitch and that turned Amy off to her!
Finally, Amy heard the door open. Despite her desire to look, she 
resisted and continued to lay with her back to the door. For a long 
minute, nothing happened but then someone spanked her ass sharply. Amy
flinched and leaped off the bed to face her tormentor. Jamie grinned
at her, "Taking a little nap, were we, Amy-girl?"

Amy shook her head silently. "Follow me, bitch," Jamie snapped as she 
spun on her heel and walked toward the door. Amy took a deep breath
and hurried after her, anxious she not give the woman any reason to hit
her again, even on the ass. Jamie took her to the end of the hall to the 
bathroom. "Sit there," she said indicating the toilet. Amy wasn't sure
if she was supposed to raise the lid or not, but when she hesitated, 
Jamie spanked her ass again, "I said sit down." Amy squatted on the
cold lid with her thighs pressed tightly together and her arms wrapped
around her slender chest.

Her eyes widened in fear when she saw Jamie take out a straight razor 
and begin to sharpen it on a leather strop. "Lay back and open your 
skinny legs, Bitch!" Jamie snapped. As Amy hesitated, Jamie pointed
the razor at her, "If you don't open your legs, Bitch, I'm going down the 
hall and call the police. They'll have your family in custody before
you can get your clothes on and get home!" Amy believed Jamie would do it 
and she slowly leaned back and spread her legs. Jamie knelt between
them and began to soap her pussy using a handful of lather from a bowl
she'd prepared.

The feel of Jamie's strong fingers massaging her pussy sent a shudder 
through Amy. Jamie felt it and fought to hide a grin. So far,
everything was going better than she'd hoped. To prolong Amy's humiliation, and
her own satisfaction, Jamie continued to fondle Amy until she shifted her 
weight and moaned deep in her throat. The crimson blush on Amy's face 
told Jamie that her new slave was ready for the next step. She raised 
the razor and scraped it over the sparse growth of fine hairs below 
Amy's navel on her heaving stomach. "I wouldn't make any sudden moves
if I were you, Amy-girl," Jamie warned her as she slowly drew the razor 
down to the forest of thick dark hair immediately above the slit
between Amy's trembling legs.

Amy closed her eyes and tried to ignore the unusual sensations Jamie
was creating as she slowly drew the razor across the most sensitive
portion of her anatomy. In spite of her resolve, however, Jamie could feel
Amy's excitement as she slowly shaved her until her pussy was as clean as a 
new-born baby's. When she finished the shaving, Jamie ran her fingers 
lightly over Amy's "mound of Venus" and held it there for a moment. 
Tears ran down Amy's cheeks as she realized how easily Jamie had
gotten her aroused her with a mere shaving.

"Wash off the soap and go back to your room," Jamie told her firmly.
Amy stood up at the sink and 
washed away the residue of Jamie's soaping, taking particular care to 
wash away the soap that had worked its way inside of her during
Jamie's fondling. When she finished, she dried herself and padded down the 
hallway to the first room she'd been in. It was deserted and she got 
back on the bed to await her next trial. She didn't have to wait long 
before Jamie reappeared carrying a small box.

Amy rolled onto her back and folded her hands behind her head, causing
her breasts to rise to their full(?) prominence. Jamie eyed Amy's
lanky 5'7" figure spread-eagled on the bed and shook her head sadly. Amy 
looked up dewy-eyed and whispered, "Is this how you want me? Just tell
me, I'll do anything, really I will." Jamie nodded, "I'm glad you've 
decided to be reasonable. Now get up and put this on." She tossed the 
box on the bed.

Amy opened it with trembling fingers and found a small black knit
dress made of stretchy material. "I don't understand," Amy said, "I thought 
you wanted to, . . .  I mean, . . . you and me would . . ." She stopped 
as she realized Jamie was laughing at her. "You dumb bitch," Jamie 
sneered, "Did you really think I'd want to make love to you? You? I 
can't even stand to look at you. The thought of letting you taste my 
sweet puss makes me ill. I wouldn't give you the pleasure!"

"Now, put the dress on and be quick about it," Jamie snapped. Amy 
scrambled off the bed, relieved that she was going to finally be
allowed to cover her nudity. As she pulled the dress up her legs, however, she
realized that it  wasn't long enough to cover the length of her  body 
between her perky breasts and her newly-shaved pussy. She had to bend 
her knees to keep her cunt from showing below the hem of the dress.
When she walked, it quickly worked up and over her tight ass until she had
to tug at it in an attempt to maintain some semblance of  dignity. Jamie 
watched her struggles with amusement.

"Put your shoes on," she ordered abruptly. Amy meekly did as she was 
told and then Jamie led her by the hand back downstairs where Barbara was waiting. Barbara
drove them downtown to the sleazy part where the topless bars, tattoo 
parlors, run-down hotels and strip joints seemed to congregate. On the
way, Jamie ran her hands over Amy's slender thighs, which made the
young girl squirm with nervous excitement. Unfortunately, whenever she
moved either one of her breasts or her pussy came out of her dress. She
spent the entire journey pulling and tugging futilely at her clothing, but 
having no luck.

Barbara finally parked and they led Amy down an alley to an unmarked 
door. Barbara knocked and a wizened old crone opened the door. "Hi 
Babs," she croaked, then she kissed Barbara on the mouth. Barbara 
introduced Jamie and pointed to Amy with a wave of her hand,
introducing her as "Jamie's new sub." Amy had no idea what the term meant at the 
time, but she didn't like the sound of it.

"You want the usual, then?" the crone cackled as she eyed Amy's 
youthfully firm figure hungrily. "Of course," Jamie said as she pushed
Amy's trembling body forward. "Give her the works, top and bottom."
The crone opened a cabinet on the wall and Amy's eyes widened in shock and
fear when she recognized what it contained.

                          AMY'S SHAME - A Story by Ginny and Amy
                              AMY'S SHAME  pt 2

Amy eyed the contents of the cabinet and when she realized what it 
contained, she gasped in shock. "Noooo," she whispered, "you can't!
Not that, please NO!." Jamie and Barbara both laughed as they grabbed her 
arms, dragged her across the filthy floor and slammed her ass down in 
what looked like an old barbers chair. With a couple of twists of two 
leather straps attached to the arms of the chair, they bound her
wrists to the chair. Despite her kicking and squirming, Amy was now
completely at their mercy.

The old crone took down silver machine from the cabinet along with a 
leather case. Amy watched with eyes wide with fear as she approached
and straddled a high stool that covered Amy's legs at the thighs. "What 
shall we do first," the old crone asked Jamie, "she's your bitch."
Jamie slowly ran her hand over Amy's heaving chest, hooked her fingers under
the top of the stretchy material and slowly pulled Amy's dress down.
It caught on her rigid nipple and Jamie gave it a little tug to free it. 
When she did, Amy's firm little breast bounced free of its confinement
like a prisoner newly freed from prison.

Despite the knot of fear in the pit of her stomach, Amy's nipples were
hard with arousal. Something in the way Jamie and her mother were 
treating her excited the young woman like nothing that had ever
happened to her in all her 28 years. Perhaps it was the contrast with the way
her own parents treated her, giving her everything she wanted and spoiling
her rotten. Perhaps, the treatment she was getting from Jamie and her 
mother provided a structure and discipline that she'd missed in her 
mundane life.

The crone leaned forward and gave Amy's left breast a squeeze like a 
fishwife checking out the catch of the day. Her touch was neither
erotic nor casual, but felt the way Amy's doctor touched her during an exam, 
detached and clinical.. "She's got good skin," she cackled, "Have you 
decided on a design?" Jamie nodded and opened her own blouse. "Give
her the mate to this one." Amy looked up and saw a large tattoo that
covered  Jamie's entire breast. A giant snake that spiraled its way up from her
ribs, around and around her breast until, at the end, the snake's open
mouth seemed about to bite her nipple. Amy screamed just before she 
fainted.

When she awoke, she felt something cool on her breast and she looked 
down to where the old crone was swabbing her breast with an alcohol 
soaked cotton ball. "I'm glad you rejoined us," she said. "Jamie was 
just saying what she'd do to you if you passed out again. I'd stay
awake at all costs, if I were you." Amy looked up to see Barbara and Jamie 
sipping drinks. "Here," Jamie chuckled, "take a pull on this, you're 
going to need it." She shoved an open bottle between Amy's lips before
she could respond and tipped it up. A big slug of Tequila, the
powerful Mexican liquor, rolled down her throat before she could get her tongue
into the bottle to stop it. She started to gag, and in doing so, she 
swallowed another gulp of the fiery liquid.

Jamie took the bottle away and she and Barbara laughed as Amy coughed 
and sputtered. Then the old woman began to tattoo Amy's pale white
skin. She couldn't believe how much pain there was as the mechanical needle 
flicked in and out, in and out as the old woman slowly moved the
tattoo machine across her breast. She remembered the old woman's warning
about not passing out again, and she fought against the pain. To counter
Amy's writhing and squirming, the old crone held Amy's nipple between her 
thumb and forefinger and pulled her breast to keep it taut. Amy's 
ability to move was severely limited by the straps on her wrists and
by Barbara who stood behind her holding a handful of her hair. The old 
woman was able, by holding her breast tightly, to keep it relatively 
still as she worked.

Every so often, Jamie thrust the bottle in her mouth and poured more 
Tequila down Amy's throat. She no longer resisted the powerful liquor,
for she found it dulled the pain and she began looking forward to the 
next shot. It took the old woman almost an hour to complete the large 
tattoo and Amy realized she no longer had any sensation in her breast 
other than a dull throbbing ache that felt like it was being roasted 
over a low fire. The old woman finally sat back, studied her handiwork
and pronounced it finished. Amy gave a sigh of relief that her ordeal 
was finally over, but she snapped back to full consciousness when she 
heard Jamie say,  "OK, now put this on the other one." She held up a 
picture of a woman standing over another woman. The second woman's
head was bowed in a subservient pose.

Amy screamed and began to thrash about in the chair, but the thick 
straps held her firmly in place. Barbara cursed under her breath and 
slapped Amy so hard her head snapped to the side. "Shut up you fuckin'
cunt," she sneered. "Hell, Jamie and I've both had worse, look at
this!" She unzipped her skintight leather mini-dress to reveal a tattoo of a 
dragon that covered both breasts and her rounded belly.

The old crone changed to a different needle and began to tattoo Amy's 
right breast with the picture of one woman being dominated and
demeaned by another. She had no doubt which of the two roles it would be her
sad duty to fulfill. The second tattoo was not only quite a bit smaller
than the first, but Amy had drunk a lot of the powerful Tequila. Although
the needle was still quite painful, her mind drifted away as her head
lolled from side to side. This time, the old crone still held her breast, but
only as an aid to steady her other hand.

Unlike the first tattoo, the second took about half  an hour, but by
the time it was completed, Amy was quite drunk. When Jamie unfastened the 
straps, Amy staggered out of the chair and fell to her knees. If she 
hadn't wrapped her slender arms around Jamie's thighs, she'd have
fallen flat on her face. "I gotta pee," she said, slurring her words badly.
The old crone pointed to the back and Jamie and Barbara supported the
tipsy young woman as she staggered to the bathroom. In truth, it was nothing
more than a commode in the corner of an open room, but Amy was too
drunk to care. She hiked up her skirt, squatted and peed a stream of golden 
fluid for a good two minutes. Then she rested her head against the
wall and began to snore.

Jamie pulled her off the stool and slapped her face several times to 
waken her. "Not yet, Bitch," she hissed. "You've still got one more 
thing to do before you can go beddy-bye." They dragged her back the
shop where the old crone waited with her tattoo machine. Jamie and Barbara 
put Amy on her knees and bowed her head to the floor. Then Jamie
pulled Amy's skirt up to the small of her back, baring her white ass cheeks. 
Jamie explained what she wanted and the old crone chuckled knowingly,
"I remember the last time I did one of those. How many's there been 
anyway?" Jamie bristled, "Never mind about her, this is the one I've
got now. Get busy!"

The old woman sat on a stool between Amy's thighs, using her knees to 
keep the unwilling woman's legs apart. As she began to tattoo Amy's 
right ass cheek, she slid her left hand underneath and between Amy's 
legs to "steady" her. In truth, her subtle fingering of Amy's pussy
had just the opposite effect and between the pain of the tattoo machine on
her ass and the pleasure of the old woman's skilled fingers in her 
pussy, the young woman was torn between conflicting sensations. In the
end, her lust won out over her pain and she climaxed before the old  
woman completed the third tattoo.

"You want me to do the other one now?" she asked as Jamie and Barbara 
stood over Amy's prostrate body. "Never mind," Jamie said with a 
resigned shake of her head. "She's so out of it, she can't even feel
the pain anymore." Barbara glared at the old woman, "And you didn't help, 
frigging her clit while you were supposed to be working. Hell, if we'd
wanted that done, I'd have done it, and a lot better besides." The old
woman held out her hand, "That'll be three hundred like I said."  Then
she added with a sly smile, "Nothin' extra for the orgasm!"

Amy awoke the next morning with a terrible throbbing in her head. She 
couldn't remember where she was or much of what had happened the night
before. The last thing she clearly recalled was when Jamie had
announced that she'd get a second breast tattoo. She lifted up the bed covers
and stared down at her breasts. They were not only covered with the
tattoos, exactly as she remembered them, but they'd swollen to nearly twice
their normal size. She tried to touch them, but they were extremely tender
and sensitive. She wondered how she'd be able to wear a blouse over them, 
let alone a bra.

As she lay there wondering what she should do next, the door opened
and Jamie came bouncing in, all chipper and bright. "Good morning,, 
Amy-girl, did you sleep well last night? I hope you're not too sore to
get your ass out of bed and come downstairs for breakfast?" Amy shook 
her head and that simple act sent shards of pain searing through her 
breasts. She winced and it brought a grin to Jamie's lips. Amy slowly 
drew back the covers and gingerly swung her legs out of bed but a
sudden shooting pain in her ass caused her to yelp in surprise. She reached 
back and realized her right cheek was quite sensitive.

"Wha . . . what happened to me last night?" Jamie shrugged, "Who
cares? You were having so much fun, I 
just wish it'd never ended." Amy looked down at her chest and began to
weep. "Don't be a wuss," Jamie scolded. "In a few days the swelling
will go down and your tits'll go back down to normal." She laughed and the 
thought of Amy's small breasts being so sensitive gave her a sudden 
idea.

She disappeared while Amy tip-toed over to the mirror to try to see
what was wrong with her ass. When she saw the third tattoo, her face turned
bright red and she broke down in tears. That's how Jamie found her, 
standing and shivering as she cried in front of the full length mirror. 
"What have you done to me?" Amy cried, trying to turn her head around
to read the lettering on her firm butt. Jamie held up a hand mirror so
the reversed reflection was reversed again, enabling Amy to read the bold 
lettering, "Jamie's Bitch."  

"What's going to happen to me?" Amy sobbed. "Nothing really," Jamie 
chuckled, "At least not yet. Hell, all that means is that hi-cut
bathing  suits are out and you'll never wear a thong except around people who 
already know about us. Oh," she added, "and I'd stay out of public 
showers, too. But that's all behind you now," she giggled at the crude
joke. "Come on, get back in bed and let me do something about your 
tits." Foolishly thinking Jamie would do something to soothe her pain,
Amy naively allowed the woman to lead her back to bed. 

As she lay back, Jamie lowered her head and took Amy's left nipple in 
her mouth and ran her tongue over the rough tip until it became hard. 
The expansion of the sensitive nub made Amy moan in pain. "Don't
worry," Jamie whispered as she raised her head, "in a few minutes, you won't 
even remember that." Then the cruel brunette tied thin rubber cords 
around Amy's stiff nipples and stretched them until they reached the 
posts at the corner of the old-fashioned bed. She tied the ends around
the posts which forced Amy to arch her back to relieve the stress on
her newly decorated mams.

Amy touched the cords, but Jamie slapped her hands away. "Uh-uh. 
Amy-girl no touch. Just lay there and let this put a little life in 
those dead ol' titties of yours. Who knows, maybe we'll stretch them a
size or two. How'd you like to have a real pair of tits like mine?" 
Jamie arched her back and pushed her bosom toward Amy's face. The 
embarrassed girl could never bring herself to admit how badly she 
desired a pair of firm, proud breasts like Jamie had. If Jamie knew
how many nights Amy had dreamed of waking up with Jamie's breasts instead
of her own little mounds of flesh, there's no telling what Jamie would
say or do to her.

The cords were already stretching  Amy's nipples and she began to
writhe and moan in pain as the flesh was stretched until she was sure it
would tear away from her chest. "You lay here for an hour," Jamie said,
"then I'll come and release you. We'll be watching and every time you touch 
yourself, I'm going to add fifteen minutes to your sentence. If you 
behave, we'll give you something to eat before Barbara begins your 
lessons." Amy's eyes widened, "Lessons? What kind of lessons?" Jamie 
chuckled. It was an evil laugh that sent shivers up Amy's spine. "We 
want to make sure you don't embarrass us at the party tonight," she
said enigmatically. Then she gave the cords holding Amy's nipples a snap
and walked out humming happily as Amy's breasts danced painfully.

Amy tried to relax, but the steady pulling on her sensitive nipples
was like an aphrodisiac. Soon, she felt a warmth in her loins and she
moved her hips ever so slightly to ease the pressure on her clitoris.
Instead, her nipples stretched a little more and she gasped in pain. 
Unfortunately, the jolt of pain only furthered her arousal and she 
desperately wanted to reach down and get one, or hopefully more,
fingers in her pussy to relive the stress. She tried to reach it, but the
effort only caused her additional tit-pain. In her frustration, she began to 
weep softly. Behind a one-way mirror, Barbara hugged Jamie and kissed 
her on the lips. Barbara's hand roamed over Jamie's pussy and she gave
her daughter a very un-motherly squeeze, "You're getting hot just 
watching, aren't you dear?" Jamie sighed and nodded wordlessly as she 
leaned on Barbara as the woman fingered her daughter to a climax.

Meanwhile in the bedroom Amy couldn't resist touching the cords that 
held her nipples. As Jamie had warned, a disembodied voice from a
hidden speaker chided her and announced that an additional fifteen minute 
penalty had been added. "Keep it up and your tits'll stretch `til you 
look like Anna Nicole Smith," the voice laughed. Despite the terrible 
pain in her breasts, Amy didn't touch the cords again. When Jamie 
finally appeared to release her, there were tears of gratitude on
Amy's cheeks. "How's the treatment?" Jamie asked with a light laugh as she
ran her fingertips over Amy's flat belly. Amy shuddered at the woman's 
touch, but she knew that Jamie wanted her to say she'd needed it and
she said so. "I enjoyed it, truly I did."

Jamie giggled at her transparent lie and said tartly, "I'm sure you
did.  Just look at those little  silver dollar pancakes of yours, why
they're already showing some signs of  life. After a couple of weeks, you
won't have a figure like a pre-pubescent teenager any more." The woman's
words stung, not because they were lies, but because Jamie had said it. Ever
since first meeting Jamie, Amy had been envious of her breasts. Many 
times, she'd fallen asleep and dreamed that when she awoke, her own 
inadequate breasts would have miraculously been transformed into
Jamie's as she slept.

Amy gritted her teeth against the pain as Jamie slowly untied the 
elastic and she fought an overpowering urge to touch them. She
suspected  that was what Jamie wanted and if she had,  she was sure it would
drawn a stern rebuke, if not some form of punishment. As Amy slowly and 
painfully got off the bed, Jamie saw a moist spot on the sheet where 
Amy's hips had been. "Aww, did little Amy-girl piss herself?" she 
laughed. She touched her finger to the moisture, rubbed her fingers 
together to test the consistency and then slowly brought her hand to
her mouth. She stuck out her tongue and tasted it then she broke into a 
smile, "Why you little devil! You really did enjoy that didn't you?" 
Amy's cheeks flushed and she lowered her eyes, unable to meet her 
tormentor's gleeful gaze. Jamie thrust her hand between Amy's thighs
and pushed a finger into her slippery, wet slot. "Unnnh," Amy moaned when 
Jamie's finger found her stiff clitoris. 

Without thinking or even being aware she did it, Amy bent her knees
and slowly lowered herself onto Jamie's hand. The movement pushed Jamie's 
finger even further inside her and Amy moaned with obvious delight. 
Jamie never moved, just chuckled to herself and wiggled her finger
until Amy gasped and collapsed in her arms from her orgasm. Despite the pain
in her breasts, Amy clutched Jamie against her bosom. Later, when she 
and Barbara were alone, Jamie excitedly told her mother, "I swear she 
said, `Thank you'."

After Amy put on a robe, Jamie took her downstairs and fed her a light
breakfast. Immediately afterwards, Barbara took over Amy's training 
while Jamie went out on an errand. Amy spent the next few hours
learning to wear many different types of restraining devices including tight 
corsets with holes cut in the front that allowed her breasts to show 
while her arms were strapped behind her back. One particularly 
terrifying outfit was full of holes that gave full access to every 
opening of her body while completely immobilizing her hands and feet
and blinding her as well. She couldn't imagine the terrible indignities
that could be inflicted anyone unfortunate enough to wear such a costume.

Barbara took delight in dressing Amy in one restrictive costume after 
another until the poor girl was exhausted from struggling in and out
of the leather, rubber or spandex clothing. When she finally allowed Amy
to rest, Barbara insisted that she do it on her knees in front of her
with her head resting on her thick thighs. Afraid of the older woman, Amy 
reluctantly did as she was ordered. Barbara gently stroked Amy's long 
hair as she leaned back, closed her eyes and lost herself deep in 
thought. 

Finally, the woman spoke in a soft voice, as if her thoughts were a 
hundred years away. "Ah, this brings back such happy memories," she 
said. "I had a slave of my own when I was Jamie's age and she brought
me the most exquisite pleasure. I hope you'll do the same for her." Amy 
wanted to promise that she would, if for no reason other than to
prevent another beating, but she was too afraid to speak. Barbara continued 
reminiscing as her hands stroked Amy's hair. "God, that girl was the 
best little bitch I ever had. I'll have to be sure to show Jamie some
of the tricks I taught her, I'm sure you'll be quite good, you're even
more pliable than she was." 
 
After lunch, Jamie returned and joined Barbara in training Amy. The 
lesson was on cunnilingus, and while Amy's experience was severely 
limited, Jamie and Barbara proved to be excellent instructors. While
one of them demonstrated on Amy, she practiced on the other, trying to 
duplicate the sensations she was feeling herself. It was an exhausting
afternoon, what with all the bending, twisting and tonguing, but not 
only was Amy proud of what she'd learned, but both Jamie and Barbara 
seemed pleased with her progress as well.

That evening, Amy was dressed again in the same little black spandex 
dress she'd worn for her tattooing. As Barbara drove downtown, Jamie 
reached over and idly ran her hand up the inside of Amy's thigh toward
her pussy. Amy knew better than to resist and Jamie smiled broadly
when, as her fingers reached her shaved opening, Amy spread her legs to give
Jamie unfettered access to her. Jamie didn't disappoint, pushing two 
fingers into her opening and tickling her clitoris until she climaxed.
Barbara congratulated Jamie as they pulled up in front of an
apparently abandoned warehouse building.

Inside the dingy building, was concealed a posh private club where 
Barbara was greeted as an old friend by the burly guard. He eyed Amy's
slender figure and asked, "New meat?" Barbara laughed and nodded
toward Jamie, "It's hers." Barbara was taken to a table right next to the
stage and Amy flushed self-consciously as she minced her way between tables 
trying to hold her dress down in the front without having her newly 
decorated breasts leap out the top. It was a nearly impossible task
and she almost tumbled into a  table of laughing women as she concentrated
on her problem instead of where she was going.

That evening, the "show" consisted of pairs of women who appeared 
onstage where one of them abused the other until she passed out from 
pain, multiple orgasms or both, depending upon the type of abuse that 
was inflicted on her. During a break in the show, Jamie took Amy's arm
and dragged her up onto the stage where she put her in a chair facing 
the audience. A couple of women at one of the "ringside" tables
laughed as she sat down, for they saw she wore no panties as her bare pussy 
reflected light like a beacon to the twisted women. Amy tried to keep 
her legs closed, but with Jamie pulling and tugging on her hair it was
a tough job.

Jamie ran her hands through Amy's shoulder length, light brown hair
and eyed Amy's reaction to her fondling. Amy closed her eyes and stretched
contentedly as she enjoyed Jamie's caress. Once, Amy even sighed as if
she were sexually aroused. "Your crowning glory!" Jamie whispered in
her ear, "I can't remember how many times I watched you play with this
hair You're always either brushing or combing it. Do you realize how you
toss it when you talk, especially to men. You're fixated on your hair,
aren't you?" She gave Amy's hair a hard yank when she asked the question, but
Amy sat without speaking. Everything Jamie said about her was true. 
Since she'd been a little girl, Amy had been proud of her long, soft 
hair.

Then Jamie produced a pair of long scissors from her bag. "Well, we're
going to cut it all off." Amy bolted straight up in the chair and 
snatched her hair from Jamie's grasp. "NO, you can't! Not my hair! 
Please!" The poor girl was so upset she started to cry. "Remember you 
parents," Jamie hissed. Amy hesitated and then slowly lowered her hands 
in her lap. She sat sobbing softly as Jamie cut and hacked at her head, 
removing large hunks of her beautiful tresses. Tears rolled down her 
cheeks and fell onto the rapidly growing pile of her hair beneath the 
chair. When Jamie finished, all that remained were strands and clumps
of ragged hair.

Jamie went backstage and returned with a small pair of electric 
trimmers. She held Amy firmly by the shoulder as she ran the clippers 
over her head, giving her a buzz cut that left what remained of her
hair less than 1/4" long. "That's much better," Jamie said as she stepped 
back and admired her handiwork. "Whadda ya think ladies?" she asked
the group of women in the front row. They applauded and one called out, 
"It's great. Looks real butch!" Hearing this, Amy could no longer 
control herself and she broke down blubbering uncontrollably.

Amy spent the rest of the evening sitting morosely at Barbara's table 
next to Jamie. Women came over frequently to ask Jamie if Amy could 
dance with them. Jamie never turned them down, pushing her into their 
arms and watching coolly as they twirled Amy across the tiny dance 
floor. Most of the women took the opportunity to grope her tight
little ass or rub their breasts against hers, which were still sensitive from
the tattoos. One woman apparently mistook Amy's reaction to their 
sensitivity for arousal and grabbed her breast and gave it a squeeze. 
Everyone in the place had turned to look when Amy's piercing scream 
echoed through the room.

Later, on the way back from the club, Jamie announced that Amy would
be moving in with her. "I thought I was already staying with you?" Jamie 
laughed, "No, silly Amy-girl. That's Barbara's place. I'm flattered
that you think I could afford such a luxury townhouse on what they're
paying us. My apartment's not too far from yours, as a matter of fact." That 
reminded Amy that she didn't have anything to wear to work on Monday.
At least she hoped Jamie would allow her to return to her job.

"Are . . . are you going to let me go to work Monday?" Amy asked, her 
voice cracking with emotion. In spite of all the problems in the
office, Amy found the thought of not being able to work made her uneasy. Jamie
laughed at her question, "Of course. In fact, let's stop by your 
apartment to pick up your clothes for the week. We can't have you 
showing up to work in that provocative number," she pointed at the
tiny dress Amy had been wearing for the past two days, "you might get raped
in the hall." Jamie and Barbara both laughed, but the humor in the 
thought of being raped escaped her.

When they reached her apartment building, Jamie and Amy took the
stairs to Amy's apartment where Jamie rummaged through Amy's large closets
full of expensive outfits. Apparently Jamie had definite ideas about the
look she wanted for her new slave, for she flipped quickly though the 
hangers, rejecting almost all of Amy's favorite dresses and suits.
"No, no, no, no, no, maybe, no, no," Amy was becoming embarrassed when
Jamie finally found one that met her criteria. She pulled it out and held it
up in front of Amy to see how it looked.

It was an outfit Amy had bought a few years ago, worn once and put away. 
It was a suit with a too short skirt that she'd picked up while shopping 
with her friend Linda. Linda had said it looked good on her, but Amy 
found it too revealing and had never worn it to work. Now, Jamie had 
picked it out and she would have to wear it whether she liked it or
not. The rest of Jamie's choices were equally bizarre. Colors that weren't
in Amy's palette, skirts that were far too short, blouses that were too 
sheer, it was as if Jamie were deliberately choosing the outfits that 
made Amy look her worst.

"I can't wear this," Amy said of one jacket, "with my coloring, it
makes me look anemic." Jamie slapped her cheek - not too hard but hard
enough to let Amy know her opinion was unworthy of consideration. "You'll
wear what I tell you, when I tell you to wear it," she hissed. "But you're 
right about the color, brunette's shouldn't wear this." Amy breathed a
sigh of relief. Maybe Jamie wasn't going to be totally unreasonable 
after all. "But let's bring it along, shall we? I'd like to see it on 
you when your make over is complete."

"Makeover?" Amy asked incredulously, "Who said anything about a 
makeover?" Jamie turned around with her hands on her hips and just 
stared at her. "What would you call the tattoos, the haircut, all the 
training Barbara and I have been taking the time to give you? Oh, it's
a makeover all right, I'm going to make you into my bitch and you're
going to love it." Amy wiped a tear from her cheek, "But I thought, . . . I 
mean if you don't like me the way I am, why did you . . . ?" Jamie, 
irritated by Amy's sniveling, brushed off her question and after 
choosing a couple of pairs of shoes, told Amy to carry everything to
the car.

"I need to stop at that all night drug emporium Barbara," Jamie said
as her mother started the car, "I won't be but a minute." While Jamie ran
into the store, Barbara climbed into the back seat and "permitted" Amy
the pleasure of licking her pussy. When Jamie came out and saw Amy's
ass in the air and her face buried in Barbara's snatch, she laughed,
tossed the small bag in the front seat and slid behind the wheel. In a couple
of minutes, they were in front of her building. Turning around she 
slapped Amy on the butt and said, "OK you lovers, break it up, we're 
home."

Amy, red-faced from her exertions and embarrassed by Jamie's reference
to lovers, sat up and wiped her mouth with her hand. "Grab your shit, 
bitch," Jamie snarled as she got out of the car. "We've still got work
to do and I have to be up early, remember? It's a work day!" Amy
lugged her clothes up to Jamie's apartment, leaving a trail of dropped shoes,
bras and panties through the lobby. The man behind the security desk 
laughed at her, but made no effort to help. Barbara followed shortly 
and, with an exasperated sigh, bent and retrieved Amy's fallen items.
"I don't know why she brought these," she muttered, "I doubt if she'll
ever wear them again."

Upstairs, Jamie had already begun preparations for the next step in 
Amy's transformation. She took out a bottle of peroxide she'd
purchased and called Amy over to the sink. "Put your head in there, bitch," she 
said as she put her hand between Amy's shoulder blades and forced her
to bend over the sink. Jamie and Barbara quickly transformed Amy's hair 
from light brown to white and when she looked into the mirror, she 
didn't even recognize herself. "Now it's in your palette," Jamie
laughed as she looked at Amy's new hair. 

Amy stared in stunned disbelief at her reflection. "My hair," she
said, "my wonderful hair. Oh, God!" then she started to cry. Surprisingly, 
Jamie put her arm around her and held her as she wept. "There, there, 
Amy-girl," she whispered, "don't cry over your hair. Come on, let's go
to bed and in the morning, when we're dressing you for work,
everything will look brighter."

Amy looked around the one bedroom apartment. "Where do I sleep? Is
there a sleep sofa?" Jamie chuckled, "No silly. Why you're going to sleep in
my bedroom. Here, let me show you." Jamie took her arm and gently
guided her into a bedroom dominated by a queen-size round bed. Amy sat on the
bed, testing it's firmness. After the too-hard mattress at Barbara's, 
this was a big improvement. Even if she would have to endure Jamie's 
groping, she thought, at least she wouldn't wake up with a back ache.
"Not there Amy," Jamie said, "You sleep over here. You're only allowed
on the bed when I want you to pleasure me." Amy looked and saw that 
Jamie had spread a blanket on the wooden floor beneath the window.
"You expect me to sleep on the floor?" she said incredulously.

                          AMY'S SHAME - A Story by Ginny and Amy
                        AMY'S SHAME - pt. 3

On Monday morning, the whole office was buzzing about Amy's 
transformation. Her breasts, still too sore to even wear her bra, were
covered by a dark blouse that concealed her tattoos well enough, but 
rubbed her tender nipples whenever she moved. They were particularly 
sensitive because of the stretching Jamie was inflicting on her and
she frequently locked herself in her office to massage them. It didn't 
relieve the aching much , but it at least gave her the privacy to
enjoy the tiny orgasms that her new-found need for frequent sexual release 
demanded. 

Unfortunately, her professional demeanor was undermined by Jamie and 
their friend Linda, who arrived for a meeting and walked behind her to
get to their seats. Linda ran her fingers over Amy's new crewcut, 
whistled low and announced to the room, "Rad!" Jamie had laughed out 
loud, but several of the executives who had supported Amy's career, 
stared at her in dismay. The firm was conservative and Amy's new look 
was too "way out" for their tastes. In spite of that, a couple of the 
younger women stopped by her office and said they were glad she'd 
ditched her "dowdy" appearance for something more "hip." Amy couldn't 
help wondering how many of them were in on Jamie's little secret and
how many of the others had guessed that something was amiss with her.

As the week dragged on, Amy felt like she was tip-toeing through a 
minefield where any misstep by her or Jamie would expose their
terrible secret. The nights, on the other hand, were filled with an endless
round of parties as Jamie showed Amy off like the new possession she was.
Amy couldn't understand how Jamie did it, staying up well past midnight 
every night, then getting up well before sunrise. She, herself, was 
dragging by Wednesday, yet Jamie seemed as fresh as when the week
began.

Every night Jamie allowed Amy into her bed to make love to her. At 
first, Amy had shuddered a the thought of putting her tongue inside
the woman, but she quickly found herself looking forward to their time 
together. It may have been because after an orgasm, Jamie would hold 
her, the only affection she seemed to receive any more from anyone. 
Sometimes they'd talk briefly before Jamie sent her away to her spot
on the floor. One night, after a party at which she'd had a lot to drink,

Amy had boldly brought up the subject of Jamie's mother, a topic she'd
been unwilling to discuss before. This time, however, Jamie didn't
seem upset by the question.

"Your mother's home is beautiful," Amy had begun, "I was impressed by 
all the decorations. It must be worth a fortune." Jamie nodded as she 
ran her fingers over Amy's nipple and gave it a tug to test how well
her stretching was progressing. "What does she do?" Jamie didn't
understand Amy's question, so she re-phrased it, "I mean, where does she get her 
money? Did your father leave it to her, or does she have a job 
somewhere?" Jamie chuckled, "I guess you could say it's a job. She
runs a string of bitches." Amy was startled, "You mean like prostitutes?"
Jamie grinned, "No silly, bitches! You know, like you're my bitch? You
haven't forgotten the tattoo on your sweet little ass have you?" Amy 
still didn't understand so Jamie explained. "Over the years, she's
tamed and broken dozens of high-spirited young women the same way I did you.

After toying with them for a few months or a year, she introduced them
to wealthy society men, businessmen or politicians and then she'd move
on the next one." Amy shrugged, "So?" "You really are dense, aren't
you Amy-girl?" Jamie chided her. "Well, after they get married, Barbara 
quietly lets the woman know the secret of her past is safe as long as 
she makes monthly payments to her."

"Blackmail, you mean," Amy said finally seeing the light. "Not 
blackmail, exactly," Jamie said, "Think of it more as payment for 
services rendered. That's what I'm going to call it when you pay me." 
Amy started to say that she'd never pay her a cent, but she wisely 
caught herself. After all, she'd already done quite a few things that
a month ago she couldn't have imagined herself doing. "So all these
women pay Barbara for her silence?" Amy repeated. "Yep," Jamie chortled,
"and you'd be surprised at their names. They're the wives of some of the 
best-known men in town. Barbara gets a check or cash each month from 
them. She managed to buy that mansion and put me through college with 
plenty left over. In fact, she's still recruiting young women. If
you're lucky, you may meet the next one in a few weeks. But that's enough
talk for tonight, you'd better get to bed, I've noticed you've been
dragging in the office lately."

When Amy returned to her "bed," Jamie set up the wooden rack above her
chest as she did every night. From it stretched the elastic cords that
Jamie attached to her nipples at least an hour every night. The last
few nights, Amy had been so exhausted she'd fallen asleep with them still 
attached.. By the end of the week, though, Amy could already see how 
much her nipples had stretched. Surprisingly, although she'd expected
to be disgusted by their appearance, she found her "little fingers" to be
more an object of curiosity than anything else. Her only reservation, 
was that a couple of her co-workers had noticed the new bulges in her 
blouse and she was desperate to come up with a plausible explanation
for their sudden appearance.

That's how Amy's first week went, careful by day, wanton slut by
night. She never knew the number of ways a woman's body could be used by
other women, but she hoped, that after the week of abuse she'd received, the
limit had been reached. Friday afternoon Jamie walked in to Amy's
office and caught her napping. "Come with me," she said and turned on her
heel and headed back to her office. Amy followed her and when they reached 
Jamie's office, she told Amy to shut the door behind her. Jamie
pointed to a spot beneath her desk, "On your knees, bitch!" Amy almost argued 
with her, but caught herself at the last moment. "What if someone
comes in?" she asked, hoping Jamie would change her mind.

"Then you'll have a lot of explaining to do, won't you? Now get under 
there before I take you over my knee and give that nice ass of yours a
paddling. If you think your screaming wouldn't attract a crowd, you're
really crazy." Amy knew she was right and got down on her knees and 
backed under the desk ass-first. Once she was under it, Jamie wheeled
up her chair, sat down and spread her legs as she pulled herself up to
her desk. Amy saw the woman wasn't wearing any panties under her business 
suit. "Get that tongue busy Amy-girl," she laughed. Amy rested her
hands against the inside of Jamie's thighs and pressed her face forward,
eager to complete her humiliation before anyone came in looking for either
her or Jamie.

When the tip of her tongue flicked against Jamie's clitoris, the woman's 
muscles tensed as she braced herself for the pleasure to come. Amy 
licked her rapidly, desperate to give her an orgasm before they were 
discovered, but Jamie put her hand on Amy's head and patted her
gently, "Slowly, slowly, Amy-girl, we've got all the time in the world. Amy 
slowed her tonguing, but increased the amount of contact with Jamie's 
clitoris. She heard Jamie's breathing becoming more rapid as she
neared her orgasm and just then there was a knock on the door. "Jamie? Jamie,
it's Linda can I disturb you a minute, it's urgent!"

Jamie twisted her fingers in Amy's hair and whispered through clenched
teeth, "Don't you dare stop, bitch, I'm too close!" Then Jamie leaned 
back in her chair and, using every bit of her reserve said in a voice 
that sounded on a couple of octaves too high, "Come in Linda." The 
pretty strawberry blonde associate came in and handed Jamie a folder. 
"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need you to OK this right away. 
Phillips is hot to get it out of here." Jamie didn't speak for fear of
giving herself away, but nodded curtly and quickly scrawled her
initials on the form. As Linda turned away, she stopped and turned back to
Jamie.

"You're looking a little flushed, are you feeling alright?" Amy felt 
Jamie's fingers tighten their grip on her hair and she nearly yelped
at the pain in her scalp. "I ... I'm fine," Jamie gasped, "just a little 
excited." Linda shrugged and headed toward the door. Just then, Amy's 
shoulders bumped the bottom of Jamie's center desk drawer with a soft 
"bump." Linda stopped at the noise and looked back at Jamie. Then she 
shrugged and walked out. As she reached for the door to close it, she 
saw a pair of women's shoes under Jamie's desk and she couldn't keep 
from smiling as she quickly pulled the door closed behind her.
Linda listened at the door for a moment and heard Jamie's muffled cry 
as, with her hand pressed over her mouth, she climaxed in a powerful 
orgasm. She slumped in her chair, tiny rivulets of perspiration
running down her chest between her full breasts as she struggled to catch her 
breath. Amy, realizing she couldn't get out of her prison until Jamie 
moved the chair, tried to push it away from the desk. She finally 
squeezed out and straightened her clothes, ran her hand through her
hair and, with as much dignity as possible under the circumstances said,
"If you've been adequately satisfied, may I return to my office now?"
Jamie sighed and nodded, "I guess so, but I was just thinking how great 
another would feel right now." 

She laughed as Amy's face colored and she scampered from the office.
Amy headed straight for the ladies room where she rinsed out her mouth, 
washed her face and tried to make herself as presentable as she could 
after the ordeal she'd been through. Both legs of her pantyhose had
runs and her skirt was soiled from the dirty floor beneath Jamie's desk.
Just as she finished, Linda came swinging through the door. Amy liked the 
slender girl and greeted her warmly. Linda, perhaps because her mind
was elsewhere, didn't acknowledge her immediately.

As Amy turned to go, however, Linda suddenly looked up and smiled at
her friend. "I'm sorry Amy, I was  thinking of something else. What did
you say?" Amy repeated her greeting and Linda nodded perfunctorily. When
Amy opened the ladies room door, Linda called out as if she'd forgotten 
something, "Oh, by the way Amy have I told you how much I like your
new shoes? I've never seen a pair like that before!" Amy cheerily said,
"Oh, thanks. I got them at Marshall Fields last week. Neat, huh?" Linda
tried not to giggle as she said,  "They certainly seem to be getting the job
done, alright."

That night, Barbara and Jamie took Amy back to the warehouse club.
This time, instead of a haircut, Amy would have a more "personal" role in
the night's events.  She was taken to the stage where a short, heavy-set 
woman with pendulous breasts is giving a demonstration of her own line
of designer dildos. Her model, a petite young girl who Amy was sure 
couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old, whimpered
at the sight of several long, thick, models. "That's going to split me
down the middle," she whimpered. 

The woman asked Jamie, and received permission to use Amy as a second 
model. Amy was told to stand in the middle of the stage with her rear 
toward the audience and bend at the waist as the heavy-set woman
thrust one of the large dildos into her from behind. Amy, her vagina
unprepared by any foreplay, screamed in agony as the sensitive tissues of her
pussy were stretched and torn by the hard rubber. 

She slumped to her hands and knees, but the old woman merely knelt 
beside her and continued to piston the evil device in and out until
Amy passed out from the pain. As the young woman lay unconscious on the 
stage, the woman held up the dildo and proclaimed, "Of course, if the 
subject isn't used to it, even the use of a good dildo may result in 
injury. I don't recommend you try this at home on virgins." The 
knowledgeable audience chuckled at her droll remark as two waitresses 
dragged Amy's limp body from the stage.

When she awoke later, Amy was laying across Barbara and Jamie's laps
in a small backstage room. "You certainly embarrassed us tonight,"
Barbara snarled. "Obviously my daughter has neglected your training. Jamie, I 
expect you to begin the dildo training next week. When we return next 
weekend, she'll not only take that big thing, but a second one in her 
asshole, if necessary. Do you understand?" Jamie cleared her throat, 
eyed Amy cautiously and nodded, "Yes, Mother. I understand."

The next morning, Amy awoke with a terrible throbbing between her
legs. Fortunately, the huge dildo hadn't done any permanent damage to her 
sensitive pussy. Instead of being allowed to sleeping late, Amy was 
awakened by Jamie at the crack of dawn and her nipples subjected to 
another hour of stretching. She wondered how she'd look if she were
ever permitted to leave the house braless in a sheer or even thin blouse. 
Just the thought of strangers staring at her little stubs of nipples
was enough to get her aroused again. She cried when she looked at herself
in the mirror, her long brown hair had been replaced by the close-cropped
peroxide do that left her unrecognizable as the same sweet young Amy 
who'd appeared at Barbara's front door a week before.

Barbara joined Jamie for breakfast and while they read the morning 
paper, Amy was allowed to rest, kneeling in front of them and serving
as their footstool! She was only allowed to move whenever she was sent 
hurrying to the kitchen to refill one of their coffee cups. Once she'd
spilled some and Barbara had snapped the leather riding crop she kept 
close at hand and ordered Amy onto her belly to suck it up from the 
carpet. While she sucked as rapidly as she could, Jamie knelt beside
her and criss-crossed her bare bottom with Barbara's crop. Amy was tearful
and too sore to stand when Barbara finally put a stop to her beating.
That afternoon Barbara drove Amy and Jamie downtown once again. This 
time, she parked across the street from one of the new parlors 
specializing in body piercing. While Amy sat trembling in the corner, 
Barbara and Jamie picked through a selection of rings that they would 
have the owner attach to various parts of Amy's body. "We'll start
with the nipples," the greasy, hairy man said as he started to unbutton
Amy's blouse. She pushed his dirty hands aside and said, "I'll do it myself 
thank you. Why don't you go wash your hands before you touch me." 
Barbara and Jamie exchanged glances, obviously there was still some 
pride and spunk left in the young woman. They'd have to address that 
deficiency as soon as possible.

The man rinsed his hands with alcohol, daubed something on her breast 
and picked up a long silver needle. "This won't hurt at all," he 
chuckled as he pinched the tip of her left nipple between his thumb
and first finger and stretched it. Amy closed her eyes and tilted her head
back, unable to watch him puncture her tender flesh. She felt the 
pressure of the needle and heard a little "pop" as it broke the skin. 
There was a momentary stab of pain and then nothing. She looked down, 
worried that something had gone wrong, but he was threading a small 
golden loop through the neat hole he had made in her nipple. "There,"
he sighed as he playfully flicked the ring with his finger, "that's one."

He repeated the process on Amy's right nipple and when he'd finished
she stood and looked at herself in the mirror. When the light hit her
chest just right, the golden rings reflected it back into the mirror. "That 
wasn't so bad," she chirped to Jamie. "I know," Jamie said, "but that 
was the easy part. Now you're going to get the others." Amy looked at 
Jamie, then at Barbara and finally at the shop-keeper, "Others?"

"Lift up your dress and get up on the table," Barbara said brusquely. 
Amy hesitated briefly, but when Jamie took a menacing step forward,
she quickly grabbed her dress, lifted it to her waist and used a chair to 
clamber up on the table. The man looked under her dress and muttered, 
"No panties, that's handy. OK girly, on your back!" It finally dawned
on Amy what was about to happen and she broke into tears, "Please NO!
Don't do this Jamie, I'm begging you. Please?" Jamie shrugged, "Sorry 
Amy-girl, it's part of your training. Hop to it, on your back like a 
good girl."

The man waddled forward and leaned his gut against the desk, holding 
Amy's thighs apart with his elbows as he ran his fingers over the 
opening between her legs. She blushed at the man's touch, only the 
second man to ever touch her there and her body began to tremble. He 
pulled on her labia and, satisfied with what he found, quickly
splashed some disinfectant on her and performed his operation. Amy tried to 
remain still, as much from fear of Barbara and Jamie as from fear of 
injury, but she still squirmed and moved her ass as he punctured her 
labia.

When he finished, she had matching rings, one in each labia. She stood
tentatively and realized she couldn't close her legs! "You'll get used
to it," Jamie giggled, "all the girls have that problem at first. Come
on, let's complete your outfit." Jamie took Amy to the counter where 
there were a selection of golden balls of different sizes. Each had a 
clasp attached and there was also a pair of small chains. "What are
you going to do with these?" she asked naively.

"I think we should start with the 5's don't you agree Barbara?" Jamie 
asked, ignoring Amy entirely. With Barbara's concurrence, Jamie
attached one ball to each chain and then knelt between Amy's legs and clipped
the chains to the rings in her labia. "If you lose either of these," she 
warned, "it will go hard for you." She strung a third chain between 
Amy's breasts that hung nearly to her waist and then stepped back to 
admire the young woman's new look. "It's OK for now," Barbara
observed, "but in a couple of months, she'll be carrying three times that much. 
Later, Amy would learn why Jamie attached such importance to both her 
nipple and labia rings.

Despite the pain in her nipples, Amy found that the balls swinging 
between her legs were far more disconcerting. When she moved she could
hear them clang together so loudly she was certain everyone in her 
office could hear them although no one seemed to notice. She had been 
forbidden to wear panties, so when she attended meetings, she had to
be very careful to keep her legs pressed tightly together.
She discovered that this increased the pressure on her vagina and made
her become aroused. It could be quite embarrassing to be sitting a 
roomful of brokers and traders and have a mini-orgasm. Fortunately, it
began to occur with such regularity, that people stopped noticing when
she'd shake and perspire at odd times.
It seemed everyone in the office had noticed Amy's new look. Before
her "makeover" she'd been the meek little mouse who everyone ignored. Now,
with her increased visibility, she realized how uncomfortable her 
celebrity was. She imagined that everyone was staring at her and 
watching her every move. When she went to the bathroom, for example,
she became so paranoid, she wouldn't take the center stall and waited for 
the one in the corner where no one would hear her rattling her chains
as she dressed and undressed. Her life was becoming a nightmare and there
were even more unsettling events just around the corner.

The next weekend, Jamie introduced a new element to their twisted
game. She showed Amy a tiny black box about the size of a transistor radio. 
There was a small plastic dildo about the size of a large cigar
attached by a cord. Somewhat fearfully, Amy asked, "What is it?" Jamie laughed,
"It's a control device you dumb cunt." Seeing Amy's uncomprehending 
expression, Jamie demonstrated for her. She hung the device from Amy's
labia rings and slowly worked the dildo slowly into her pussy. A
second thin wire which served as an antenna hung from the box, it would be 
visible to everyone if Amy wore a skirt above her knees. 

Amy waited expectantly, but she felt nothing. But as she walked around
the room, the sensation of the dildo in her pussy and the box slapping
against her thighs was highly erotic. Then Jamie picked up a small
box like a TV remote control and pressed a button. The dildo began 
vibrating, sending jolts of sexual stimulation through her loins.
Within minutes she was not only too aroused to walk, she could barely stand 
still. Jamie clicked off the remote and Amy slowly descended down from
her erotic high and returned to normal. Amy found the mere thought of 
Jamie holding such awesome power over her was quite daunting and it
gave her real concern about her ability to continue to function in the 
office.

"Monday morning," Jamie told her, "you're going to wear this in the 
office." Despite her training, Amy blurted out her reluctance. "I
can't, what if someone sees it? What will I say?" Jamie shook her head, "Not
my problem. You're going to wear it or something a hundred times worse." 
Amy was too cowed by Jamie's threats to ask what alternative she had
and she agreed to wear the device. 

On Monday and on each succeeding day, Jamie turned it on several times
a day for anywhere from one to five minutes. When she was in her office 
working on the computer, Amy almost enjoyed the feeling it gave her,
but in meetings or talking with a client, the effect was not just
diverting, it was positively devastating! 
She soon learned not to stop and talk to anyone in the hall,
especially a man. If Jamie saw her talking to anyone, she'd flip on Amy's "climax
machine" and watch her begin to squirm. If the man happened to be 
important, poor Amy had no choice but to stand there and take it for
as long as she could. 

One day, Amy had been in a meeting with a very important Chinese woman
when Jamie activated the device. The woman watched with aplomb as Amy 
begin to squirm and move in her seat. At one point, the woman moved 
close, took Amy's hand solicitously and asked if there were anything she 
could do to help her. The poor girl had run sobbing from the office 
leaving the Chinese woman wonder why her gracious offer had been 
rebuffed so impolitely. Fortunately for the company, Jamie had
"happened to be" nearby and was able to sweep in a the last moment to save the
day and the account for the firm!

Amy had rushed to the ladies room and taken the first unoccupied
stall There, she huddled on the toilet cubicle until her orgasm subsided.
She sighed, straightened her dress and stepped out, nearly knocking over
her friend Linda who had been in the adjoining stall. "Are you OK, Amy," 
Linda asked, "You look ill. I haven't seen anyone looking that bad
since I was in Jamie's office last week. Perhaps something's going around?" 
Amy glanced at Linda to see if she was aware of what had happened in 
Jamie's office, but the slim strawberry blonde was inscrutable. "Could
be," Amy muttered, "You never know these days."

Amy leaned on the sink to steady her nerves as Linda washed her hands 
and left. Amy had liked Linda since they'd first met and, although Amy
wasn't aware of it, Linda had secretly admired her since she'd joined 
the firm. But she'd seen and recognized Amy's shoes under Jamie's desk
two weeks before and although Linda considered herself "liberal" she'd
been mystified as to why the bright young brunette would lower herself
to perform such perverted acts on anyone, especially Jamie, who as far
as Linda knew, wasn't even in a position of authority over Amy. 
Linda shrugged, "Oh well," she thought, "maybe they're lesbians."
Linda walked down the hall, running her fingers through her light 
reddish-blond hair. Jamie leaned out of her office and watched the
girl as she passed. Although the quiet girl rarely talked about herself, 
Jamie was one of the few who knew that Linda was seriously involved
with the young son of a prominent family. With her slim frame and small,
firm breasts, Linda would make an attractive, if not a beautiful, society 
wife.

Jamie told Amy to expect a guest for dinner on Thursday and ordered
her to leave work early, pick up the food on the way home, clean the 
apartment, heat the dinner and be in the bedroom naked when she
arrived. Amy had to lie to her boss to get away. She told Mr. Phillips she was 
sick and hurried off to perform her duties. Jamie had been quite 
specific about what food Amy was to buy and it took much longer than 
she'd expected. When she got home, she had to rush to get all the 
ingredients assembled even though most of the items needed little 
preparation.

Amy had just finished undressing when Jamie arrived. "Good," Jamie
said when she saw Amy standing demurely in the middle of the bedroom with
her hands crossed modestly in front of her, "I didn't think you'd get it 
done in time. As Jamie undressed, she told Amy, "After you finish 
washing my body, I want you to set the table, open the wine, complete 
the dinner and then be ready to serve at 8:30 sharp. Is that 
understood?" Amy nodded, since she was accustomed to servicing Jamie 
when she showered that part was expected. She just worried that she'd
be adequate in her new and unaccustomed role as a serving lady.

A short time later Jamie stepped from the shower with a grin on her 
lips, satisfied and refreshed, she was ready for the evenings 
entertainment. Amy, on the other hand, was still resting on her knees
in the spray of the shower, her loins throbbing with unfulfilled desire. 
She leaned against the wall and used her fingers to release the
built-up tension until Jamie heard her moan as she climaxed. The cruel
dominatrix knew it would be a fun evening, no matter what happened.

Amy finally rose to her feet and slowly dried her body with Jamie's
damp towel, just the smell of Jamie's lush body was enough to get her
aroused  all over again. By the time she walked into Jamie's bedroom, the 
brunette was nearly dressed. "What would you like me to wear tonight, 
Jamie?" she asked demurely, the only tone of voice Jamie permitted her
to use in her presence. Jamie smiled and studied her slender slave 
before she replied. "I think you're fine just the way you are, dear.
But I'd comb my hair if I were you, it's a little disheveled." 

Amy stared at her in disbelief, "Like this? Naked?? You can't be 
serious!" But Jamie was quite serious. "Oh, yes," she snarled, "When I
tell you I want your skinny ass naked, I mean it! My guest this
evening is very important to me and I want her to see that I'm a woman who 
delivers on her promises. Showing her that I have you under my
complete and total control is the first step in that process." Jamie glared 
menacingly at Jamie and then her face suddenly softened. "But I'm
being too harsh on you," she said soothingly as she slipped her arm around 
Amy's bare shoulder. "Perhaps I'm expecting too much of you to prance 
around in your birthday suit, especially looking as skinny as you do. 
Would you like to put on a dress, at least, to serve my guest?"

Grateful for Jamie's understanding, Amy bobbed her head like one of 
those dogs in the back of the Puerto Rican gang members cars. "Oh,
yes, Jamie. Thank you." But as Amy started toward the cardboard box where 
Jamie allowed her to keep her clothes, she heard Jamie pick up the 
telephone, "Operator," she said, "give me the Internal Revenue
Service. I'd like to report a tax cheat." All the blood drained from Amy's face
and her hands began to tremble. She spun around and yelped, "No, wait.
Don't! I'll do whatever you  want, just don't turn us in."
Jamie put down the phone softly, not wanting to disturb the dial tone 
that still buzzed in the handset. "That's a good Amy-girl," she said
as she stroked Amy's head like a puppy's. "I'm glad you recognize who has
the upper hand in this relationship." As Jamie checked her out of the 
corner of her eye, Amy combed her hair (top and bottom) and steeled 
herself for the ordeal to come. Unfortunately, she still had no idea
of what was about to happen to her. 

                          AMY'S SHAME - A Story by Ginny and Amy
             AMY'S SHAME pt. 4

Shortly after eight o'clock, Jamie's doorbell rang. "OK Amy," Jamie
said with a brisk clap of her hands, "In the kitchen and don't come out
until I ring my bell, remember?" Amy nodded, "I remember, don't worry. I've 
got too much to lose not to get it right." Jamie waited until Amy 
disappeared into the kitchen and then she answered the door. When she 
opened it, Linda was standing there. The young woman was clearly 
apprehensive. She peered around the corner carefully before she
stepped into the foyer. "Looking for someone?" Jamie said teasingly. "Just 
making sure we're alone," Linda said as she dropped her jacket on a 
chair beside the door.

"It's alright," Jamie said as she took Linda's elbow and guided her 
toward the living room, "there's no one here but my maid and she'll be
no problem, I assure you." Linda pulled her arm free of Jamie's hold
and seated herself in a single chair opposite a sofa on which Jamie spread
herself. Jamie picked up a bottle of expensive wine and a glass from a
tray on the table in front of her, "Would you care for a little wine 
before dinner?" Jamie had done her homework well, for Linda and her 
fiancé were members of one of the cities most exclusive "Sommelier 
Clubs" and she recognized the high quality of the wine Jamie offered. 
She sipped delicately from the crystal glass and nodded appreciatively, 
"Excellent bouquet and aroma. Just a hint of grass from the Sauvignon 
Blanc.  Overall, an excellent wine."

Jamie gripped the arm of the sofa tightly, using all of her will power
not to burst into laughter at the young woman's pretentious 
"eno-babble." But more importantly, Jamie wanted Linda to drink, and 
enjoy the expensive nectar. When Linda put her glass down, Jamie
quickly re-filled it. "A toast," she said, knowing that Linda couldn't refuse,
"to the firm. Long may it prevail." It was a meaningless toast, 
certainly to Jamie who couldn't have cared less about the firm, but 
Linda drank enthusiastically which gave Jamie the opportunity to
refill her glass still again.

They sat and drank until the bottle of wine was empty and then Jamie 
rang a little bell that was on the table to her left. Instantly, the 
kitchen door opened and a naked Amy stepped into the room. She stopped
in her tracks when she saw Linda sitting there and at the sight of her
friend, Linda's glass slipped from her fingers and landed (unbroken 
fortunately) on the plush carpet at her feet. "You may serve dinner
now, Amy," Jamie pronounced gravely, "and bring out the red wine as well." 
Jamie took Linda's elbow and pulled her to her feet. "I believe you
know my kitchen help," she chuckled, "I imagine that came as quite a 
surprise, eh?"

Linda nodded. "You have no idea," she mumbled. Linda sat uncomfortably
as Amy (per Jamie's explicit instructions) served her by bending close
and brushing the tips of her hard nipples against the back of Linda's 
shoulders. It became so blatant that whenever Amy approached, the 
strawberry blonde would flinch and lean away from her uncomfortably.
By the time Amy served the dessert, Jamie and Linda were on their third 
bottle of wine and Amy could see Linda was feeling the effects of all 
the alcohol. "Please excuse me," Jamie said, "but I must speak to the 
kitchen staff."

She went into the kitchen where the perspiring Amy was stacking the 
dishes. "You should have told me that it was Linda!" she hissed.  "Why?" 
Jamie asked, "What would you have done? Run home to Daddy? You'd still
have served us and you know it." Amy sighed and bowed her head,
"You're right. I would have." That's when Jamie dropped the bombshell! "Serve 
the coffee and when we've finished, I'll excuse myself. You come out
to pick up the cups and then I want you to seduce Linda. Do you 
understand?" Amy was aghast! "You want me to what?" "You heard me," 
Jamie snapped, "Seduce that bitch. I want you to kiss her up, give her
a couple of feels and then take her into the bedroom and go down on her
on my bed. Do you think you can do that, or do you want me to call the 
police?"

Amy sighed, "Alright, I'll do it, but I won't enjoy it." She said
that, she may have even meant it when she said it, but both Amy and Jamie
knew it wasn't true. Jamie knew by the excited glow in Amy's eyes and Amy 
knew by the warm feeling that was rapidly spreading in her loins as
she thought about it. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "Why?"

Jamie shook her head, "Why isn't important. The only thing that
matters is that you go down on her and then get her to go down on you. After 
that, the two of you can do whatever you want for the rest of the
night. Now get ready, because if you screw this up, the next woman you go
down on will be in prison." "I'll be watching, so you'd better do as your 
told. You know what happens to little girls who disobey me." She gave 
Amy a hard smack on the ass with her open hand to emphasize what she 
meant. Then she stormed out to re-join Linda in the living room.

When Amy came out to pick up the empty coffee cups, Jamie excused 
herself and left the two young women alone. "Why are you doing this?" 
Linda asked, her voice slurred by the effects of the alcohol. Amy
didn't know what to say, so she told the truth. "She's been good to me," she 
said. "I got myself into some trouble and she helped me out. Not only 
that, but she's taught me so much about myself. I wish I could tell
you how much better I feel about myself since she's come into my life."
Amy  put her hand on Linda's thigh and when the little blonde didn't pull 
away, Amy leaned close and gently pressed her lips to Linda's.

Surprisingly, Linda neither recoiled nor resisted. In fact, her arms 
suddenly wrapped around Amy's neck and held on to her tightly as she 
returned her passion! When they broke the kiss, they were both
breathing  heavily. "Wow," Linda gasped, "I've been wondering what that would be 
like kissing you!" Amy sat on Linda's lap and kissed her again, this 
time longer and more deeply, their tongues entwined in Linda's mouth. 
When Amy felt Linda's hand on her breast, she realized that Linda was 
ready for the next step in Jamie's plan. "Let's go to the bedroom,"
Amy gasped, "before Jamie comes back and catches us." 

At the mention of Jamie's name, Amy felt Linda's body tense, then she 
relaxed and nodded. "Yeah, let's." Amy took Linda's hand and led her
to the bedroom. As Linda stood in a trance-like state at the foot of the 
bed, Amy slowly unwrapped her like a Christmas present. When she
pulled off Linda's bra, her small, firm breasts rose and fell rapidly, the
dark nipples hard with arousal. Amy couldn't resist bending down to kiss
them one after the other as Linda sighed with delight at the feel of Amy's 
tongue on her sensitive skin.

Amy put Linda on her back and knelt between her slim thighs. She ran
her fingers through the thick hairs above Linda's pussy and the strawberry
blonde arched her back and moaned as Amy slowly worked her middle
finger into the wet opening and found her clitoris. Amy stroked her slowly, 
letting her arousal build until she seemed about to burst, then she
used her tongue. Linda's orgasm was a strong one that gave Amy almost as
much pleasure as it gave Linda. Amy brought Linda to another climax, this 
time working her slowly and deliberately, watching her out of the
corner of her eye and, each time she felt her orgasm was near, backed off and
left the squirming blonde dangling at the edge of release.

Finally, Linda exploded and she grabbed Amy's hair and pulled her on
top of her, covering her face with kisses. "Please," gasped Amy through 
clenched lips, "Please?" She opened her legs and Linda knew what she 
meant. She reversed her position and used her tongue to satisfy Amy, 
twice in rapid succession. Afterwards, they lay together and held each
other close, whispering insincere lies to each other as if that would 
make everything alright in the morning. They made love several more 
times and each woman had several more orgasms. Then Linda rolled over 
and fell asleep. Soon, she started to snore softly!

Amy caught her breath and then rose slowly and stumbled to the
bathroom. Jamie waited until she heard the shower running and then she came out
of the closet from where she'd sat and watched the two young woman make 
love. She tip-toed to the bookcase and picked up a small video camera,
removed the tape and placed the camera in a drawer. She also took the 
tape from a second camera hidden behind her jewelry case on the
dresser. When she had them both, she stealthily crept back to the living room
and let herself out. Linda was still  snoring when Amy returned from her 
shower and lay down beside her friend.

When Amy awoke in the morning, Linda had gone without a word of
good-bye or a note of explanation. She lay there for over an hour, thinking
about what had happened. That's how Jamie found her when she returned home, 
sprawled on her back with tears trickling down her rosy cheeks. Jamie 
knew how Amy felt, she'd often awakened alone to find her partner had 
fled in the night. Jamie quickly undressed and joined Amy on the bed
and they made love, hard passionate love. Jamie knew that Amy was taking
out her frustrations on her, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but
the tapes and she had them safely under lock and key.

In spite of everything that had happened to her in the past month, Amy
still thought she had been performing acceptably on the job. That was 
why, when Mr. Phillips announced he'd received an unexpected
promotion, she thought that, as the senior one in his department she'd get his
job. She was stunned a day later when they announced that Jamie had been 
selected instead. Now she'd not only have to satisfy Jamie after work 
and on weekends, but on the job as well. It was too much for Amy to
take and she scheduled a meeting with Personnel to ask why she had been 
denied a promotion for which she felt she was qualified.

They explained that her recent "erratic behavior" had made the 
executives too uncomfortable and cited her "punk" haircut, "radical" 
tattoos, "rave" dresses and her sudden inability to pay attention
during meetings had left them no choice. "Frankly Amy," the man told her in 
confidence, "several people are wondering if you're doing drugs. You'd
better get some help to straighten out your life before they give you 
the boot. They felt they had no choice but to pass over you for Jamie," 
he continued. "She's almost equally qualified and there were several 
important officials pushing hard for her selection." Not only was
Jamie ruining Amy's personal life, but she was now ruining her career as
well. Amy knew that if she allowed it, Jamie would ruin her life. She
realized what she had to do and resolved to do it before the upcoming holiday 
weekend.

Amy realized she couldn't take Jamie's abuse and degradation any
longer. In spite of her love for her father, she refused to allow Jamie and 
Barbara to use her in every disgusting way they wanted. On Thursday 
night she called her mother intending to tell her what she was about
to do. "Oh, I'm sorry honey," she said, "Your father and I are on our way
out to a Cancer Society Dinner. Can I call you tomorrow?" Amy sighed
for it was always that way with her mother. She never seemed to take time 
for her. "Momma I've got to talk to you. Can you come to my place
Friday night, it's really important." "All right, dear. I'll come by after 
dinner and we can have a nice talk, just us girls."

The next morning Amy called a lawyer who'd done some business with her
company. "I can't help you," he said when she told him of her problem,
"but there's someone who's an expert in those kinds of problems. Her 
name's Virginia Ames, she's a former U.S. Attorney and she's expert in
that area." Based on his recommendation Amy called and scheduled a 
mid-afternoon meeting with Ms Ames. She arrived fifteen minutes early 
for the meeting and as she sat in the waiting room, Amy caught herself
staring at the attractive young girl sitting at the reception desk. 
"I've been with Jamie so long," she thought, "I'm starting to think
like her."

Finally, the perky little brunette stood up from behind her desk and 
approached Amy. "Ms Ames will see you now," she said. "If you'll
follow me?" As Amy walked behind the petite woman, she fought the urge to
reach out and grab the young woman's firm ass. She shook her head and wiped
a bead of perspiration from the fine hairs on her upper lip. "Take it
easy Amy-girl," she muttered to herself, totally oblivious to the fact that
she'd called herself by Jamie's pet name for her.

The cute brunette showed Amy to an impressive office where the walls 
were covered with shelves full of law books. An auburn-haired woman 
stood up and moved gracefully around her desk. Her hand extended as
she took Amy's trembling fingers. Amy used the opportunity to check out
the tall, broad-shouldered woman as she approached and she liked what she 
saw. Ms Ames auburn hair was cut short and close to her head, curling 
behind her ears in little cowlicks and her bosom! Her bosom was big,
far larger than Amy's. "Hi Amy, I'm Virginia, but you can call me Ginny. 
Tell me what's troubling you." Amy sat down quickly, wanting to sit 
before her trembling legs buckled and she fell on her ass.

As Ginny walked back around her desk, Amy stared at the woman's 
curvaceous ass which was encased in a dark, skin-tight skirt. Ginny
sat down and crossed her long legs and as she did, Amy caught a brief 
glimpse of something that set her heart racing! Not only was the 
attorney not wearing panties, Amy was sure that her pussy had been 
shaved as clean as a baby's bottom!!!

Amy tried to tell her story, but she couldn't concentrate because she 
couldn't take her eyes from Ginny's bosom as it rose and fell with her
breathing. Her coat was buttoned beneath her breasts and it pushed her
breasts up through the front of her coat. Seeing Amy was disconcerted,
Ginny suppressed a grin and unbuttoned her coat, heaving a relieved
sigh as her full breasts were freed from their confinement.

Visibly relieved, Amy began to speak. She told the entire story, 
beginning with the inside tips to her father and continued through the
events of Thursday afternoon. The woman appeared stunned by Amy's
story, but assured her she could arrange a deal with the Government to keep
her father out of jail. "You'll probably have to do some jail time, but
I'll do what I can." Amy nodded, "Look, if it will help, I'd testify
against Jamie and Barbara. What they've done to me must be every bit as
illegal as my insider trading, isn't that right? That should be worth
something to the District Attorney." Ginny nodded, "Perhaps, but insider trading
is a Federal crime and what those women have done is local." Seeing 
Amy's face fall, she continued rapidly, "But that's not to say the
D.A. wouldn't put in a word with the U.S. Attorney if you testified."

"I'm sure you're desperate enough to grab at any straw. Give me until 
next week and let's see what they're offering." Amy left the woman's 
office feeling happier than she had in months. Finally, the terrible 
specter of Jamie hovering over her would be gone. She couldn't imagine
anything that might happen to her in prison that could be any worse
than what she'd already endured at Jamie's hands.

That evening Amy's mother arrived shortly after eight o'clock. Ellen
was nearly as tall as her daughter and even though she was past fifty, she
still had a trim, firm figure. She could still wear the latest
fashions, including skirts well above her knee. Like Amy, Ellen's breasts
wouldn't turn men's heads, but her legs were long, tan, trim and well-muscled 
from years of playing tennis at the club. Amy fought back tears as she
spilled out as much of the story as she dared. Despite her decision to
turn herself and her father in to the authorities, Amy didn't name
names or go into detail about the humiliations she'd endured at Jamie and 
Barbara's hands.

At first, her mother could only think about what would happen to her
if both her husband and daughter were in jail, but Amy re-assured her
that her lawyer was going to arrange a deal that would leave her father a 
free man. "She said Dad may have to pay a big fine," Amy said 
confidently, "but she said we won't agree to the deal unless they 
guarantee it." Her mother breathed a sigh of relief and just then the 
doorbell rang. "Did you tell Dad you were coming?" Amy asked with a
hint of panic in her voice. "Of course not, dear. You told me not to tell
him and I didn't. Are you expecting anyone?" Amy, a worried expression on 
her face, shook her head.

The bell rang again, more insistently this time. Amy peered through
the peephole and her heart raced! It was Jamie and Barbara. "Just my
rotten luck," she muttered, "and my mom's here to witness it." Afraid to
ignore Jamie and her mother any longer, Amy opened the door a crack and 
whispered, "Please, can you come back in an hour. My mother's here. 
Please?" Jamie kicked the door open, sending Amy reeling across the 
foyer into the wall. "I know," hissed Barbara, "that's why we came, to
make sure you and your mother understand the folly of trying to cut a 
deal with the Feds."

"The Feds?" Amy gasped, surprised that Barbara knew about her visit to
the attorney. "How did you know about that?" Jamie giggled as Barbara 
jabbed a finger into Amy's right breast and snarled, "I know
everything. That cunt Ames, the attorney you went to see? She called me the minute
you left the office and told me everything. Even about how you want to
go to the District Attorney to testify." Amy stared at her indisbelief. 
Ginny had betrayed her, how could she? Why? Barbara pushed Amy aside
and started toward the living room as Jamie waggled her finger under Amy's
nose disapprovingly, "Bad Amy-girl. Now Jamie will have to spank! 
Tsk-tsk!"

Barbara and Jamie  strode boldly into Amy's living room and Ellen
looked up to see who her daughter's visitors were. When she saw them, her
mouth opened and her face went ashen. "Hello Ellen," Barbara said 
dramatically, "It's been a long time." Ellen nodded numbly. Looking at

Amy she asked with a hopeful tone, "These aren't the two you were 
telling me about are they?" Amy nodded silently, "I'm sorry Mother." 
Barbara walked over and offered her hand to Ellen who reached to take 
it. But instead of shaking her hand, Barbara jerked the taller woman
to her feet and embraced her. She was barely able, by standing on her
toes, to press her lips to Ellen's and kiss her - it was a long, deep and 
passionate kiss.

"What's the meaning of this," Amy demanded, showing far more spunk
than she had in months.. "What do you think you're doing?" Barbara turned
to Amy while keeping a hand on Ellen's hip, "You dumb bitch, your lawyer,
Ames, is not only an old friend, but she was sitting in the front row 
when Jamie gave you the haircut. She recognized you as soon as you 
walked into her office. There won't be a deal with the Feds and if   
you, or you Ellen, say anything to anyone, you'll all do hard time." 
Barbara smiled as she felt a shudder run through Ellen's body when she
mentioned her husband going to prison.

"You bitch," Ellen snapped and grabbed Barbara's hair as is she was 
going to fight her. Barbara spun and drove her fist into the pit of 
Ellen's stomach right above her panty line. The punch was so hard and
so unexpected that even Ellen's well conditioned body couldn't withstand 
it. Her knees buckled and she toppled into Barbara who caught her with
an arm around the tall woman's slim waist and held her as if in an 
embrace. Amy was stunned by Barbara's attack but was more surprised at
her mother's unwillingness or inability to fight back. Barbara helped 
Ellen up and held her at arm's length as she studied her trim figure. 

"The years have been kind Ellen," she said softly. "Let's see just how
kind." Barbara started to unbutton Ellen's blouse and when her mother 
didn't raise a hand to stop her, Amy went to her mother's defense. She
stopped short, however, when Jamie grabbed her shoulder, spun her
around and punched her in  her soft belly. Amy dropped to her hands and knees
as she fought an urge to vomit and when she looked up through her 
tear-filled eyes, Barbara was lifting Ellen's blouse over her shoulders. 
She pulled it down her arms and Ellen's eyes closed tight as her lips 
pursed tightly when Barbara's hands fondled her small breasts. From 
there, Barbara probed Ellens'  flat, hard stomach. "Very nice,"
Barbara said as she nodded in approval.

Amy watched in silence as Barbara reached behind Ellen and unhooked
her skirt, dropped it at her feet and then with a quick snap of her
wrists. jerked down the woman's half slip. Like an obedient automaton, Ellen 
stepped out of it and stood before Barbara in an underwire bra and a 
pair of matching bikini panties. "Ditch the bra," Barbara ordered 
curtly. Ellen, with surprising alacrity reached behind her to release 
the catch but she caught it and held it to her breasts until Barbara 
reached up and slapped her cheek. "I said ditch it," she snarled. 
Obediently, Ellen dropped her hands and the bra slowly slid down her 
arms, over her wrists and dropped beside her other clothes at her
feet.  "Over here," Barbara said, crooking her finger at Ellen who meekly 
followed her to the sofa.

Barbara sat down, patted her thighs and Amy was awestruck when her 
mother knelt without saying a word and laid herself over the older 
woman's lap. Barbara shifted her knees to raise Ellen's firm ass into 
the best position to receive a spanking, then ran her hand over
Ellen's tight ass cheeks. Amy saw her mother quiver, whether in fear or 
excitement it was impossible to know, as Barbara slowly pulled her 
panties down to her knees.

That's when Amy saw it! Her mouth opened in shock and heart stopped as
her head began to spin. She fell to her knees and shook her head in 
dismay. "No! It can't be!" she gasped. Looking into her mother's 
tear-filled eyes she  pleaded with her, "Mom! Mom please, say it isn't
so!!" Ellen looked at Amy and began to cry uncontrollably. She'd kept 
the terrible secret from her family for years, but now it had been 
revealed in a most disheartening and disturbing manner. Ellen choked
on her tears and lowered her head, unable to say the words that Amy so 
desperately wanted, indeed needed, to hear. 

As Barbara began to spank Ellen's pale, but rapidly reddening ass, Amy
stared in stunned disbelief at her mother's jiggling, up-turned ass. 
She'd never seen it before and she couldn't understand how she'd
missed it for so many years, but there it was, high on Ellen's right ass
cheek! A simple tattoo with just two words in inch high letters, "Barbara's 
Bitch". 

That's when Amy knew, deep inside her, that she'd never get away from 
Jamie and Barbara and their domination of her. 


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