THE BOOK OF NATANIA

1 In the fourth year of the reign of King Omri of Israel, there lived in Judah a merchant by the name of Nahshon. ² Nahshon was a good man, beloved by his wife and children, and respected by those in his community. His wealth was great, but he was a kind man and gave often to the poor and hungry.
³ Nahshon had a daughter named Natania, who was in her sixteenth year. Nahshon loved Natania more than his other children, for of them all she was the most beautiful. ⁴ It came to pass that Elad, a merchant from Israel, saw Natania and was smitten with her beauty, and he implored Nahshon with great entreaties to give to him his daughter in marriage. ⁵ But Nahshon was unwilling, and refused, because Elad lived a great distance away, and was moreover an old man.
⁶ But Elad sought Natania in private, and offered her jewels, and gold, and silver, if she would leave her father’s house and return to Israel with him. ⁷ And Natania refused, for she was repulsed by Elad, and had already many jewels of her own, which her father had given to her. ⁸ And Elad pressed her, and returned the following night to ask again. ⁹ On the third day, Natania still refused, and Elad became angry, and he struck Natania, and she fell upon a stone and was still.
¹⁰ Then Elad was afraid, because he thought that he had killed Natania, but when he looked more closely, he saw that she was still breathing, and he rejoiced in his heart. ¹¹ Then he stripped her of her clothes and had intercourse with her while she was senseless.
¹² But she recovered herself, and was afraid, because he had left his seed inside her. Yet she still would not consent to marry him. ¹³ And Elad left, and he did not attempt to persuade her again.
¹⁴ Natania knew that she would be stoned to death if it was discovered that she had lain with Elad, and so she kept secret his action. ¹⁵ And by chance she did not conceive, and so pretended still to be a virgin.
¹⁶ And the Lord was wrathful with Natania, for she had lied concerning her virginity, and moreover she had committed the sin of having intercourse before she was married, and did not cry out for help. ¹⁷ For this sin is punishable by death by stoning.
¹⁸ And the Lord said unto Natania, “Woe to you, for you have dishonoured your father and committed the sin of adultery.” ¹⁹And Natania prostrated herself, and wept, and said, “I was taken while I slept, and knew not what I was doing.” ²⁰ And the Lord said, “For this reason you shall not die, but nonetheless your punishment shall be severe.”
²¹ And He sent a plague of cockroaches to her bed while she slept, and they infested her, and she awoke in great distress. And she cried out, “Have mercy, Lord, for they torment me, and I cannot rid myself of them.” ²² But from the Lord there was no answer.
²³ Natania slew the cockroaches by the thousand, but for each that she slew, two more arose from inside her womb. ²⁴ When morning came, those that were in her sheets and about her bed came between her legs, and entered her, though she tried to stop them. ²⁵ And thus when her mother came into her room, only dead cockroaches remained on the floor.
²⁶ Then the Lord wrought upon Natania an affliction of the bowel, so that her waste flowed unbidden, and she disgraced her father by dropping her waste before his guests. ²⁷ And in great fear she fled, and she made for herself a cloth with which to wrap her loins. ²⁸ And into the cloth poured her waste, but it did not overflow, and she did not foul the floor of her father’s house. ²⁹ And she emptied it into the river, six times on that first day, and seven times each day afterwards.
³⁰ Thus it was that during hours of darkness, her body was overrun with cockroaches, and during the day, she spilled waste into her loincloth.

2 Natania was unhappy, for she hated the smell of her waste, which was constantly upon her. ² And she went to the priest, Eliab, who was old and lame. ³ Eliab had an affliction of the senses, and smelled not the waste in her loincloth.
⁴ But she told him of her plight, and of the manner of her sin of adultery. ⁵ And Eliab, being a kindly man, would not condemn her, but he said, “The Lord has been merciful upon you, and you must bear the punishment for as long as it is meted out. ⁶ For He is wise, and knoweth all, and will some day have mercy on you.
⁷ Then Natania’s heart was lightened, and she went on her way. And she resolved to accept her punishment for as long as it might last.
⁸ And it came to pass that the waste in her loincloth, whose quantity was so great that it almost overflowed, came to seem less evil to her, and she sat in it, and it gave her pleasure.
⁹ And she sought a secluded place, and removed her clothing, and covered herself with her waste, and enjoyed her own body.¹⁰ And she diverted the flow of her waste into her womanhood, and was filled with it, even unto her womb.
¹¹ And the cockroaches therein were covered, and drowned, and the Lord was angry with Natania. ¹² And he said unto Natania, “You have defiled your body, and slain my servants, and have committed disgusting acts upon yourself. ¹³ Therefore your punishment shall increase tenfold.”
¹⁴ Natania wept, and implored Him to spare her further torment, but the Lord did not answer her.
¹⁵ That night, the Lord visited upon Natania an uncountable number of cockroaches, and among them were mingled centipedes and flies and worms that crawled within her. ¹⁶ And there were also slugs of large size, and leeches, and they filled her womb until she took on the appearance of a woman in her seventh month of pregancy.
¹⁷ And a fit of madness took hold of Natania, and she rent her clothing, and was naked, and she grasped many of the creatures in her hands, and pressed them between her legs. ¹⁸ And they passed into her, and she was glad, and hungered for more.
¹⁹ When morning came, she was like a woman ready to give birth, and her father and mother were distressed, and inquired of her how this could be. ²⁰ And she lay before them, and opened herself, and cockroaches and worms spilled on to the floor.

3 Natania’s father Nahshon thought her possessed, and he said to his wife, “We must seek the help of a priest, for I do not know what this sign means. ² Yet surely we will be obliged to burn our daughter to death, for clearly there is evil in her.” ³And he wept, for he loved his child.
⁴ In haste he took Natania to Asher the priest, and Asher examined her, and was disgusted by the waste gathering in her loincloth. ⁵ And he saw the slugs, and the cockroaches, and the worms, and the leeches, and the flies that were laying eggs in her waste, and the crawling maggots that had hatched therein. ⁶ And he declared her unclean, and he instructed Nahshon to purify himself, and he cast Natania into a pit. ⁷ Then he went up to the temple to pray to the Lord.
⁸ And wild dogs found Natania, and they bit her, and attempted to have intercourse with her. ⁹ And she touched them in order to arouse their ardour, and she allowed them to mount her. ¹⁰ For the rest of that day she had intercourse with the dogs, and a host of their kin came to that place from the hills nearby. ¹¹ More than one hundred and fifty dogs spilled their seed into her womb that day.
¹² In the evening Asher returned, having been visited by the Lord in a vision. And he drove away the dogs, and took Natania out of the pit. ¹³ Then, as he had been instructed by the Lord, he led her into the wilderness, and there left her. ¹⁴ And he returned whence he had come, and said to Nahshon, “Your daughter has been burned to death for her many sins, as the Lord has instructed.”
¹⁵ Then Nahshon tore his clothes, and wept, and covered himself in ashes. And he returned home, and told his wife what had happened. ¹⁶ And they mourned their child.

4 But Natania was found in the wilderness by travellers from Sidon, who were worshippers of Baal, and they were amazed at the torrent of waste pouring from Natania. ² And they marvelled at the cockroaches and worms and slugs. ³ And they kept her for themselves, to enjoy her, and took her back with them to Sidon.
⁴ In Sidon Natania’s fame grew, and she became exalted as a handmaiden of Baal, and the men and women of Sidon worshipped her. ⁵ And she was bred with dogs, and with sheep, and with goats, and with horses, and with cattle, and snakes were thrust within her, and fish were placed into her womb, and worms and maggots of the earth, and frogs, and locusts, and the waste of animals.
⁶ And Natania came to enjoy these things, and ever sought for new ways to defile herself. ⁷ And she was brought a leper, and she pressed into herself the man’s arm, and when he withdrew it, his hand was no longer affixed to his wrist, but was still within Natania’s womb.
⁸ One night, the Lord came to Natania, and said unto her, “Natania, for your actions you deserve to die.” ⁹ And she wept, and begged him to have pity on her, saying, “All that I have done is as a result of my punishment.”
¹⁰ And the Lord took pity on her, and he said, “Go now, and empty from your womb all the foul things within. Cast off your Sidonite clothing, and return to your home. ¹¹ Go to the priest, and perform the ritual of purification three times. After the third time, your waste shall stop flowing, and you will be cleansed of your sin. ¹² No longer will cockroaches come to your bed at night, and no longer will worms and slugs invade your womb.”
¹³ Natania dried her eyes, and said, “But how shall I perform this? I will die in the wilderness before I can reach my home.”
¹⁴ And the Lord said, “Trust in the Lord your God.”

5 So Natania rose from her bed, and she went to the river, and emptied from herself the creatures and foulness that the Sidonites had pressed into her. ² And she removed her clothing, and bathed, and walked naked into the wilderness.
³ And the Lord sent cool breezes, and dew that fell during the day, and she had enough to drink, and was not scorched by the sun. ⁴ And on the third day she reached a spring, which was the beginning of a stream, and the stream led her back to her homeland.
⁵ The Lord came to Asher the priest, and told him to journey into the wilderness. ⁶ And on the second day, Asher found Natania, and he was amazed that she was alive.
⁷ Asher took Natania to the temple, and she performed the ritual of purification. And after the third time, her waste ceased to flow from her, and she rejoiced.
⁸ And Asher clothed her, and took her home, and Nahshon was overjoyed to see his daughter again. And he took her in, for Asher said that she was clean.

⁹ But in the sixth month after her return from Sidon, Natania made for herself another loincloth, for she remembered the pleasure she had once enjoyed, and longed to know it again. ¹⁰ And she put on the loincloth, and soiled it, and sat in it, and was happy.
¹¹ Every day she did this, though she took care to keep her actions secret from her mother and father.
¹² And one day she discovered the corpse of a sheep, which had been dead for three days. ¹³ And she took maggots from the body, and put them in her loincloth, and she rejoiced to feel them move against her. And she pressed them inside herself, and took off her robe, and lay in the sun and enjoyed her body.
¹⁴ The Lord saw what she did, and was angry, and he said unto her, “Natania, why do you defile yourself in this evil way?”
¹⁵ And Natania replied, “Have mercy, Lord! For I am weak, and easily tempted by the pleasures of the flesh.”
¹⁶ But the Lord said, “No more mercy will I show you.” ¹⁷ And at once, a stream of excrement came out of her bowels, and also out of her womanhood, for it was filling up her very womb. ¹⁸ And her breasts began to fill with liquid waste, and it sprayed from her nipples, and her stomach filled up with waste, and she vomited, and it poured from her mouth, and from her nostrils. And she choked on her waste, and was near to drowning.
¹⁹ By chance her father, Nahshon, passed by at that hour, and he threw himself to the ground beside his daughter in great distress. ²⁰ “O Lord,” he said, “please spare my most beloved daughter this fate. Has she not suffered enough?”
²¹ And the Lord replied to Nahshon, saying, “She wishes only to defile herself. No longer will I allow her to atone for her sins. She must only be punished.”
²² But Nahshon answered, “Then, Lord, let me, her father, atone for her sins. I will pay the price, if it should cost me everything I own.”
²³ And the Lord said, “And if you should lose everything, and she should keep sinning, what will you do then?”
²⁴ And Nahshon said, “I will give my life.” ²⁵ And the Lord said, “So be it. Go and give your home to the needy. Give away all of your possessions, down to the last grain of wheat. Give your wife and your other daughters away into slavery. ²⁶ Only then will I cease my punishment of Natania.”
²⁷ Then Nahshon wept, for it was a bitter price to pay. ²⁸ But he arose, and went to his eldest son Jadon, and said to him, “My heart is broken, for I must do a terrible thing in order to save my beloved daughter Natania.” ²⁹ And he told him what the Lord had said. ³⁰ And he said, “Tell my wife and my other daughters to prepare to visit my cousin Manoach in Zorah. Prepare wagons for them, and such supplies as would be customary for such a journey. ³¹ Then send my son Gefen ahead to Azekah, and tell him to go to the slave traders, and instruct them to wait at the crossroads of Beth-shemesh. ³² When you arrive yourselves at the crossroads, hand over my wife and daughters to the slave traders. ³³ Do not take any money for them; you are to give them freely.”
³⁴ And Jadon wept, for he loved his mother and sisters, and he begged Nahshon to change his mind, but his father would not be swayed.
³⁵ Then Jadon did as his father instructed, and he had wagons prepared, and he gathered to him his mother and sisters, and told them to enter the wagons, that they might journey to Zorah. ³⁶ And he sent his brother Gefen to Azekah, to instruct the slave traders as his father had said.

³⁷ When the wagons had left, Nahshon made immediate arrangements to give away all of his possessions, and he gave his house to a young shepherd, and his gold and jewels to the poor, and his fine clothes and his stores of grain to the hungry. ³⁸And word spread of this to nearby towns, and many hundreds gathered to obtain a part of Nahshon’s wealth. ³⁹ But by evening there was nothing left to give away, and Nahshon was without home or possessions. All that he owned were the clothes on his back.
⁴⁰ And he returned to where Natania lay, and she was lying in a pool of waste, and it was still pouring from her. And he knew that his wife and daughters were still free.
⁴¹ Then Natania sat up, and her bowels were emptied, and no longer produced waste. And Nahshon wept, for he knew that his wife and daughters were now slaves.
⁴² Natania asked her father why he wept, and he told her of his bargain with the Lord. ⁴³ And she wept with him, and was filled with remorse, and took an oath to sin no more, for her father’s sake.

6 This is the fate of Nahshon’s wife and daughters. For they were given into slavery by his son Jadon, and they wept when they saw their fate, but there was no escape for them. ² And Nahshon’s daughter Sariah was taken to Moab, and sold for a good price, and was forced by her master to prostitute herself for many years.
³ And Yarona, who was to be married in the following month, was taken to Edom, and became the property of a cruel man named Hesed. ⁴ And Hesed would not allow her to live in his house, and she slept in the mud among the pigs. ⁵ And Hesed would often rape her, and also he would bind her with her legs held apart with ropes, and he would bring her dogs to have sex with, and horses. ⁶ And Yarona was miserable and wanted to die. But she lived for many years.
⁷ And Nahshon’s daughter Amaris, and his daughter Bethea, who were both beautiful to behold, were taken to Sidon and sold to the followers of Baal, and they were raped many times, and afterwards sacrificed upon the altar of Baal.
⁸ And Nahshon’s daughter Mara was bought by a farmer from the lands east of Tyre, and he treated her well, and later married her.
⁹ And Gevira, Nahshon’s wife, was sold to a carpenter, but she fled from him in the night, and lost herself in the wilderness, and was never seen again.

7 Three months passed, and Natania did not sin during that time, but her father’s grief was unassuaged, and she could not comfort him. ² She begged for food each day, but she and her father had little to eat. ³ Then Nahshon arose, and washed himself, and offered himself as an apprentice to an old weaver named Zerach, who had been recently widowed. And Zerach took pity on Nahshon, and took him in, and taught him his trade. ⁴ And he treated Natania like his own daughter.
⁵ One night the Lord decided to test Natania, to find out if she would turn back to her old ways. And he sent cockroaches to her bed, and they crawled on her skin. ⁶ And Natania rejoiced, and she gathered them together, and caused them to enter her womanhood, and as they moved inside her she took pleasure in her body.
⁷ Then the Lord was angry with her, and he said, “Truly you have not turned from your wicked ways, and therefore you must be punished again.” ⁸ And he sealed up her womanhood, and also her anus, so that the cockroaches could not escape from her, and she could no longer pass her waste.
⁹ And the Lord caused her bowels to fill with waste, and he made the cockroaches grow in size, so that Natania’s belly became enlarged, and Natania cried out in her agony, for it became greater than that of a woman about to give birth. ¹⁰ And she cut for herself a new opening between her legs with a knife, but the Lord sealed it up again. ¹¹ Seven times Natania cut herself, and seven times the Lord closed the wound. ¹² And still her belly grew, until she screamed from the pain of it.
¹³ And Natania turned the blade on her belly, and ripped it open, and her waste burst forth and covered the floor. ¹⁴ And among her filth were cockroaches of enormous size, which turned again and crawled on to her, and laid eggs in her opened womb. ¹⁵ And Natania was too weak to prevent them, for she was bleeding greatly. ¹⁶ Then the Lord sealed her wound, and she was made whole, and he reopened her womanhood and her anus. ¹⁷ But her belly remained large from the eggs inside her, which numbered in the hundreds.
¹⁸ And the Lord said, “Take care to keep your body pure, and do not defile it, for if you do, the eggs inside you will hatch, and the creatures that spring therefrom will grow, and they will devour you from the inside.”

¹⁹ Then Natania was afraid, and she ran from Zerach’s home in the darkness, and hid until morning. ²⁰ And she encountered a caravan of merchants travelling north, and she begged leave to accompany them. ²¹ Seeing that she was with child, as they thought, they were kind to her, and gave her a pillow on which to rest.
²² And the caravan went north, and she stayed with them, even as far as Sidon.

Wet Panties Please!!

I can't really remember quite how I got interested in women's panties, but for as long as I can remember, I have always taken the opportunity to have a sly look through various dirty laundry baskets and hope amongst hope that somewhere inside would be my treasure trove - a sexy, slinky pair of panties with the unmistakable aroma and tell tale signs that they had been worn pretty recently.

When I was in my late teens, my 'hobby' was restricted to the occasional foray into my aunt’s basket, hoping to find my cousin Sue's freshly worn panties. I was never interested in my aunts, nor that of any other 'older' women, come to think of it, but the sight of a 19 year olds tiny little panties with a soft gusset and that beautiful smell, would have me pumping into my hand in seconds. 

My girlfriend loves me to lick her through her panties until she comes on my tongue, then she will take them off, sit astride me and slowly impale herself on my hard cock whilst teasing me by holding the gusset of her soaking wet panties just above my nose. Just before she cums, she will press them onto my nose and mouth so that I can taste and smell her as I unload violently inside her. She loves to masturbate in her panties and put them into my hold all when I go away on business, which is fairly regularly. There is nothing better than opening my bag at the hotel to find a still damp pair of panties in a little see-thru plastic bag, hidden in the inside pocket!!

I suppose I should let you know how I met Lisa (my girlfriend). A few years ago, when I was 19, I was living with my sister Vicki, who was 18 at the time. I had gotten into the habit of having a little poke around in Vicki's hamper when she was out at work or shopping or whatever, to see if I could find any decent panties for a spot of afternoon fun. Sometimes I was lucky, sometimes not. 

As a seasoned pervert, I became very adept at recognizing the signs that could lead to the possibility of still damp and warm panties. The obvious one was Vicki having a shower in the morning, before going to work. This invariably never failed to mean that the panties that she had worn overnight were draped over the edge of the hamper.

As soon as the front door had clicked shut and I heard her car pulling out of the drive, I would be in the bathroom and whisking the panties back to my bed while I knew they were still warm. Oh heaven!! Now, don't get me wrong, my sister is a beautiful girl and although I would take any opportunity to spy on her undressing, I never thought of doing anything else with her. Her panties however - well that's another story!!

Needs is as needs must, as Forrest Gump would say, Vicki's panties were just an easy way of getting what I needed at the time. Now, Vicki had an absolute stunner of a girlfriend called Lisa. I had seen her a couple of times and she was gorgeous. She appeared in my fantasy jerk-off sessions on many occasions. One day, Vicki said that Lisa would be 'stopping over' on a Friday night after they had been out to the night clubs.

My mind started going into overtime - if only I could get my hands on a pair of Lisa's panties, the object of my sex crazed desire! The Friday eventually came around, not too soon if you ask me, and I tried to behave as perfectly as possible, you know, making her coffee, general chatting and flirting, telling her she looked stunning when she appeared at the front door ready for the night out etc. She looked good, she smelled good and I was in lust!

I knew I had no chance of any panties until the next morning at the earliest and when Vicki said they would be going into town to do some shopping on Saturday morning, I had already hatched my plan.

I didn't hear them come in from the club, I was already asleep. I know you are going to say that I should have stayed up and seen if I could have taken advantage of Lisa while she was drunk, but to be honest, I didn't think I would stand a chance with her, so I was just counting on being able to get hold of a pair of her freshly worn panties.

In the morning, I heard them getting ready, including having a shower - you know where I'm going with this one, don't you! "Bye!!" I heard them shout from downstairs. "See you in a few hours!" As soon as I heard the front door close, I was straight out of bed and into the bathroom. SHOCK!! No panties anywhere. No, please don't do this to me, I've been thinking about nothing else for 16 hours.

Plan B springs into action - into Vicki's bedroom (where Lisa was also staying in the pull-out bed) and have a little hunt around. I looked on the floor by Vicki's bed, and picked up a pair of still damp white panties. I'd seen them before, so I knew they were Vicki's.

But no sign of Lisa's anywhere. I spied her small suitcase by the pull-out bed and I lifted the lid. Women always put their worn panties into the 'flap' inside the lid - don't ask me why, but it's something I've learned, and is an invaluable piece of information when you are searching for worn undies!! Anyway, I looked just inside and BINGO!! there they were - a tiny silky black pair.

I pulled them out and felt the gusset - soaking wet!! I instantly became rock hard. This was getting to surpass my wildest dreams. I then put them to my nose and inhaled, WOW!!, I almost exploded without even touching myself, the smell was the most beautiful sweet 'womanly' smell I had ever experienced. 

I knew I had to make myself cum soon, so I laid on Vicki's bed and draped my cock with Vicki's panties. I closed my eyes and pressed Lisa's panties onto my nose and began to slowly rub my cock with Vicki's while sniffing and licking Lisa's. I was in heaven, trying to rub my cock as slowly as I could to delay the explosion that I knew wasn't far away.

"See!! I told you he was using my panties to wank with!!" said a familiar voice from the doorway. I looked towards the door and saw Vicki and Lisa standing there looking at me, naked on the bed and draped in wet panties. Why hadn't I made sure they had gone? I tried to cover myself up and mumble some apology, as well as going as red as a beetroot.

My world had caved in and worse still, there was Lisa, the object of my desire, staring at me with her panties on my nose. They both entered the room and Lisa had a really strange look on her face.

"Lets give him something to wank about then" she said, and started to walk towards me. My cock, which at this point had shriveled, began to get hard as Lisa put her hands up her skirt and slowly pulled down her panties. "Here, you'll find these are just as welted" she said, and placed them over my nose and rubbed them over my lips. This was unbelievable, and I was in heaven. They were soaking wet and smelled divine - I almost came as soon as she put them to my nose, but I managed to control myself.

"Or, what about the real thing?" Lisa said, and with that, she straddled me on the bed and began to inch up my body towards my face. It felt like ages as she soooo slowly got closer and closer until she stopped about one inch from my lips.

"Please, Lisa!!" was all I could beg, as I could smell her excitement and see the moisture on her shaven pussy lips. She slowly moved forward and pushed her soaking pussy onto my lips and nose, my tongue immediately licked up her lips and flicked her clit. "Oh my God!!" she moaned, "That's so fucking horny!!

I continued to lick and suck her for a few minutes, bringing her almost to orgasm, when she said "I need you inside me!" and scooted backwards down my body and impaled herself on my cock. She found her panties again and pressed them to my nose. I knew I wasn't going to last long.

I'd forgotten all about Vicki and I happened to glance to my right to see where she was. She had laid back in the chair, with her legs apart and her hand down her panties, masturbating like crazy. I could see the gusset of her panties was soaking wet, and every now and then I got a glimpse of her shiny, slippery pussy. I looked her in the eye and she just gasped and said "Fuck her hard!" 

I wasn't really the one doing the fucking - Lisa was forcing herself down onto my cock before pulling all the way up to the top, before pushing all the way down again. She was doing it so slowly, but with such force, it felt like I was being vacuum pumped. She leaned forward and kissed me through her panties which just served to push them further onto my nose. This was all too much for me and as she sat back up, I looked back over to Vicki who had now pulled her panties to one side and was blatantly fingering herself in front of me. I caught her eye and she just gasped "Oh fuck, Oh fuck, Oh fuck!" and exploded around her fingers. I swear I could see her muscles contracting.

Lisa said "I'm gonna explode! Come inside me!!" and she just went into convulsions as I started to pump what seemed like gallons of hot cum deep inside her. She leaned forward again and lay on me, kissing me and saying that she had never, ever, cum like that in her life!! 

My sister, just said "Now you won't need my panties anymore, looks like you've got a ready supply from now on!!" And she was right! I've had a constant supply from Lisa since that day, and we've been together for nearly four years. I still have the occasional forage in other dirty laundry hampers though!!

MARIA and LYN
                  
They had been sitting on the beach all day; it had started out OK, when Lyn picked Maria up from her house at 9AM, and the two friends had set off to their special spot on a nearby island.  The two girls had been going there for years and in a way this was just another trip, but THIS trip had taken on another less favorable connotation, and Maria didn't quite know what she could do about it.  She was very worried about her friend and what Lyn had recently admitted to - something Maria had found very strange and, to think about it, disgusting.  She couldn't quite say why, but she just didn't understand how Lyn could actually ENJOY pissing her pants.  It was just sick.

Even when they had been younger and her friend had repeatedly peed in her pants, even though they were accidents, everyone had laughed at the poor unfortunate girl.  It was to be years later that the now adult Lyn would tell all about how she had become addicted to pants-pissing and Maria finally realized that Lyn's "accidents" were not accidents at all.  In fact, the only difference between Lyn's pants-pissing then and now was the fact that Lyn now planned her wettings.

So, now, here they both were on the beach, at 4:30PM and Maria was bursting. After crossing the short bridge from the mainland, the two friends had arrived at the beach at about 11AM and Maria had to pee badly.  She had hopped from foot to foot, trying not to pee in her bright aqua swimsuit, besides, she had on a pair of tight denim cutoffs and she didn't want to get them wet, either - she had to get home in them after all.  Lyn, on the other hand, didn't need to pee.  She had already done it in the car!  When Lyn picked her up, Maria noticed that Lyn sat on a folded towel covering the driver's seat.  Lyn was wearing a black lycra swimsuit with a tiny wrap-around floral skirt over it, that flipped up to reveal the bottom of her swimsuit and the tops of her thighs as she jumped back into the driver's seat.  At the time, she thought
nothing else of it than that Lyn was prepared for the drive home in a wet
swimsuit.  Lyn hadn't pissed her pants in Maria's presence since they were both young and Maria reasonably assumed that Lyn had grown out of it as all girls do sooner or later.  So when half-way to the beach, Maria announced that she had to pee, she was totally unprepared for Lyn's answer.

"Oh, I knew I shouldn't have had all that coffee this morning before you
arrived."

"Why?  What's the matter?" said Lyn.

"Because, now I'm bursting to pee and we're only halfway there.  How am I going to last for the rest of the trip?"

"Well, I know what you mean, I'm busting, too, but I planned ahead and took precautions, so I'm OK."

"What do you mean?" asked Maria, completely mystified by her friend's comments and wondering how Lyn, who used to ALWAYS wet her pants, could last all the way, bursting, and not have a problem.

"What do you think this towel's for?"

Maria stared at Lyn from the passenger seat trying to adjust to what Lyn was saying.  She sat there for many moments, saying nothing, looking at Lyn's profile, watching the concentration on her friend's face as she drove, and saw it change slightly as Maria became aware for the first time of a slight muffled hissing noise.  She wondered for a second what it was, but the look of relief on Lyn's face, and the sudden realization that the hissing was coming from between Lyn's parted legs, under her skirt, brought on a feeling of revulsion that hit her so swiftly, she didn't have time to think before she gave voice to it.

"Oh, yuk.  How can you DO that?  You're peeing in your swimsuit!"

"Yes, well, I told you I had come prepared." said Lyn, mildly discomforted by her friend's reaction.  "It's not exactly the first time I've ever peed my
pants in front of you!"

"No, but that was when you were just a kid - how can you still do it now?"

"Well, actually, I never stopped.  I've always peed in my pants.  I can't even remember when I started, to be honest.  It must have been when I was very young, because I seem to have been doing it all my life.

"But doesn't it smell??!" said Maria, who had become intensely aware of and embarrassed by the strengthening aroma of fresh, strong urine now permeating the interior of the car.  She was so sickened by the smell and thought of her friend peeing through her swimsuit into the towel, that she had to wind down the window and get some fresh air.

"Why'd you do that?" cried Lyn, "You'll let out all the air conditioning!"

"I'm sorry, Lyn, but I can't sit here with you just pissing in your pants like
that.  You know, the sound and the smell... - I just couldn't stand it.
Besides, now I have to go even more than I did before.  Thanks a lot!"

Lyn started laughing at this and after a short while, when she started seeing something perversely funny about it, so did Maria, which very nearly had her wetting her pants as well, until she got herself under control enough to ask another question which had occurred to her.

"But won't the seat get wet?"

"No." replied Lyn.  "I'm peeing slowly in bursts.  That way, the towel absorbs
most of it and the seat will only get damp from the contact with the wet
towel.  When I get home, I'll take the towel off the seat and it will be dry
in no time at all.  Then the only tell-tale sign will be the faint smell of
dried pee."

Yuk, Maria thought to herself.  How could her dear childhood friend be such a sicko!  "I just can't believe you're doing this."

"And I can't believe you didn't know I still did this."

"Well, you never said you did, and I haven't seen you do it since we were kids. I thought it was just some sort of childhood phase, or something!"

"Well, of course I wasn't going to keep doing it in front of people, in public - even I can see that's not socially acceptable behavior, although there ARE people who get a kick out of that, too!"

"Oh, yuk, you're not serious?!"

"Yes I am.  It takes all kinds, you know."

"I'll say." said Maria, wondering how this conversation could ever have
happened.

"Look, can we talk about something else?  I'm going to wet MY pants in a
minute, and I don't want to get my shorts all wet.  Swimmers are another thing altogether, but I want to wear these home and I don't want them smelling of pee when I do!"

"Well, you can wash them out when you get to the beach, if you'd like." said Lyn, helpfully, and just a little hopefully.  "There's another towel on the seat behind you."

"NO!" yelled Maria, affronted and angry that Lyn could even suggest such a thing.

"I'm sorry" said Lyn, a little hurt.  "I was just trying to help."

"Well the best way you can help at the moment is to drive like hell and get me to the beach!"

"Do you want me to stop?  I could stop if you'd like."

Maria thought about this for a moment and the scene played through in her mind of squatting by the roadside, shorts around her ankles, trying to pull aside the crotch of her tight swimsuit and keep it out of the way while she peed, and she suddenly found herself thinking how it WOULD be easier to just pee through her swimmers.  Horrified by the thought, she cast it from her mind like the piece of filth it was, and told Lyn to just keep driving.

In the course of the next hour, Lyn chatted on about how she had suddenly at the age of about nine, become self-conscious and decided that she had better stop having "accidents", or people would start to catch on to the fact that they were deliberate.  So started years of development of a habit which eventually became an obsession and had been the cause of more than one failed relationship.  All of which indirectly led to her obsession becoming worse as her focus shifted more and more away from boys towards pants-pissing.  Lyn had
become manic about the type of underwear she bought and the clothing she would wear over it.  She would rarely go anywhere without planning just where and when she would piss her pants, and so could wear skirts or pants as the whim suited her, confident that the wetting would be appropriate to her attire and the situation.

Maria sat there in disbelief while the story unfolded and all but forgot her
bladder as she tried to understand her friend's strange fetish.  Maria still
couldn't understand one specific thing: Why?  She could understand (just
barely) how it could be a reasonable thing to do if you really needed to pee and couldn't avoid pissing your pants.  In fact, she had in the past, done just that when she thought no one would know and her skirt was long and full enough to successfully hide the wetness of her peed panties, but that was out of necessity and not at all pleasant, in spite of the fact that it had felt good to just let go in her panties.  And there were those times when she had peed through her swimmers sitting on the hard sand on the beach in her young beach-girl days.  But then, her swimmers were wet, and besides, the next rush of water up the sand would wash them out.  No, she just couldn't understand why Lyn did it when she clearly didn't have to!  Lyn even ENJOYED peeing in her pants and made a point of wearing thick white cotton panties under her
skirt on days when she planned to piss her pants frequently, just so they would look good at the end of the day, let alone their smell!  This also explained the fact that Lyn had only ever had black swimsuits.

So, here they were at the beach.  On arrival, Maria had already leaked into her bright aqua swimmers and wet the crotch of her shorts a little, but the shorts had absorbed most of the wetness from the lycra and they were only a little damp.  The small wet spot was not really noticeable as she ran down to the water and she was thankful for the isolation of their favorite spot as she felt the warmth of her pee escape from the crotch of her swimsuit and cascade down her legs, just before she got to the water and covered up her indiscretion.  With relief, she had then warmed the water around her for a whole minute while she emptied her aching bladder.  Although she disliked the concept, she couldn't help thinking how good it felt and the fact that it did
feel different from peeing normally - the way her tight swimsuit held her
together and created backpressure.  She was pushing hard against the pressure, enjoying the sensations as the urine forced its way out through the tight material and into the cool water.  As she forced out the last of the pee, and her bladder finally collapsed on itself, empty and spent, she came to her senses and waded out of the water, ashamed, not of what she had just done, but of the fact that she had enjoyed it so much!

Now, at 4:30, the day had worn on and the afternoon was becoming cool.  Maria had been lying down enjoying the warm spring sun and had not noticed the temperature dropping until she had become somewhat chilled.  So now she was sitting up, feeling cold and wishing she had gone into the water to pee once more while the day was warmer.  The Coca-Cola they had brought with them had gone straight through her and she again badly needed to pee.  Lyn, on the other hand, had not been into the water once!  She always did like sitting in the sun and wasn't really all that interested in swimming, and so when she had to pee, she just sat up, moved to the end of her towel, and peed through
her swimmers into the sand!  Sometimes, she didn't even bother to do that, and more than once, Maria had been talking to her when she noticed that same hissing sound, and looking down, saw Lyn's crotch, her legs parted wide, and the hissing stream of pee shooting from the tight material into the growing wet patch in the towel.  Maria was amazed how quickly the urine soaked through the towel into the sand underneath.  And, now, when she was so in need of a good long piss, herself, Lyn, who was standing next to the picnic hamper, drinking a last glass of Coke, began once again to leak through her swimmers.
While her pee poured out of the crotch of her swimsuit, darkening the
material slightly and making it glisten in the still strong light, Lyn
finished her Coke, and looked down at herself and the growing torrent pouring into the sand between her feet and splashing wet sand onto the insides of her calves and tops of her feet.  She parted her legs and feet a little to avoid the splashing and gave Maria a view of the urine running down the insides of both her legs, then squatted down to pee hard straight through her crotch into the sand which could only just barely absorb it all as Maria watched the pee bubble and splash noisily.

Suddenly, it became too much for Maria and she started to feel her bladder lose its seal, as the first drops of her pee escaped from it and wet the insides of her labia.  Her tight aqua swimmers held her together as before but as she got to her knees she felt the weak seal of her labia fail and the warmth contained between them leak out to soak the material of her swimsuit and warm her crotch.  Maria could feel her bladder about to burst and she knew there was no point in trying to stop it - she had left it too late, and besides, she didn't really want to, now.  Maria quickly shifted off her towel to kneel on the soft sand, when modesty or perversity reminded her of something from her youth she had forgotten all about.  Maria remembered a day at the beach long ago when she was young, playing in the sand, building sand castles and totally absorbed in what she was doing, and had completely forgotten about peeing until it was almost too late.  Then, needing to pee
but not wanting to leave her masterpiece, Maria had dug a hole, which to anyone else would have seemed like part of her work.  Having dug the hole, she knelt astride the hole, and sat on her heels above the hole with her legs parted and went back to her work, peeing into the hole as she did, and filling in the hole when she was finished.

Now, looking down between her legs and seeing the dark wet material there, with drops of urine escaping and making little rolled-up balls of wet sand under her, she felt more leaking from her, warming her crotch even more, and her mind was cast back to that long distant memory.  As the late afternoon sun, shining full on her wet crotch, did its best to warm it further, she started digging, her pee now dripping from her crotch and wetting her hands and the insides of her forearms, and she started giggling at what she was trying to do.  Lyn, finished peeing now, squatted facing her and started laughing at her antics, which didn't help Maria, who started laughing too.  That was all she needed and her pee started pouring from her crotch, now wetting her hands.
Urine everywhere, Maria shuffled forward so her stream would fall straight into the hole and laughed uncontrollably as Lyn rewet her crotch with a little more urine her laughter had squeezed from bladder.  Yet again, Maria was gripped with an uncontrollable urge to bare down on her distended bladder and with a paroxysm of bliss, pushed her pee out hissing and splashing into the little pool at the bottom of the hole, while little rivers of it ran from the two points of her buttocks into the sand on either side of the hole.  The combination of pleasure and relief was so great that tears ran from Maria's eyes to drip to the sand, to mix with the pee swirling there.  As her flow subsided, Maria's fascination with her wetting was broken and she looked up at the smirk on Lyn's face.  Looking into each other's faces, they both knew that Maria had discovered what Lyn had known seemingly forever, and that she
would never forget it.

As Lyn and Maria prepared to leave, they shared the last bottle of Coke and picked up their belongings, Lyn re-wrapping her skirt and Maria, after a moment of hesitation, pulling on her cutoffs, which immediately soaked up the excess wetness in her crotch and quickly darkened between her legs and up between her buttocks.  On the way back home, both Lyn and Maria sat on folded towels which got very wet, and talked about when they would do it all again.
 

The sunset at Pinehedge

“Hi, Tim,” Leslie said, as she dashed off to History class one Thursday morning.

“Hi, Leslie,” I replied, with a lump in my throat.  Leslie Morgan’s necklace sparkled, and I gazed in awe at her attractive bracelet as her cell phone ringtone wafted my way.  My pulse raced, and my body froze when I saw her.  Here it is, the 11th of June, and I still haven’t asked Leslie out.  I’m crazy about her, and school will be out in less than two weeks.  We friended each other on Facebook in April, but people friend each other at the drop of a hat. Time is moving, and I’ve got to act fast.

That night I tossed and turned, wondering how I’d get the nerve to ask her out on a date.  Should I call her, leave a note, or send her a rose?  Leslie has wavy auburn hair, the kind that turns bronze in the sunlight.  I longed to hold her hand, gaze into her eyes, and watch the sunset at Pinehenge Park with her.  I was truly smitten.

The next morning I saw her in the hall as she was leaving History class.

“Leslie, how are you doing,” I asked haltingly.  My tongue was in a knot.

“Pretty well, Tim,” Leslie replied with a fragile smile.

“Leslie, what are you doing this summer?” I asked, straining for something to say.

“I’ll be working at Camp Laurel for the Handicapped.  Since I’ll be majoring in Special Education in college, I thought I’d get some experience in the field.  What are your plans for the summer?”

“I’m going to apply at the radio station, since I’m such a music buff.  Maybe I’ll get a deejay job.  By the way, Leslie, when’s your birthday?  Isn’t it in July?

“It’s July 14th.  I’ll be at camp then.  It’ll be fun.  Tim, I’ve got to get to Trig class.  See you on Monday,” she said, as she slipped away–again.

All weekend I thought about Leslie Morgan.  Leslie’s a genuine and down-to-earth girl, unlike a lot of girls at school.  The problem is she’s dating Dave Donahue from the baseball team.  He’s always dumping her, only to make up again.  Leslie’s blind to Dave, always giving him one more chance.  She deserves better, and I’m it.  Now, if I could only ask her out!

The following Tuesday I ran into my friend Perez Garcia.  “Perez, how did you hook up with Pat Caffrey last year?  I have this huge crush on Leslie Morgan from History class, but every time I see her, I get tongue-tied.”

“I was helping Pat study for an English exam last June.  She got a 93, and she couldn’t have been happier.  We started dating right after that.”

“But Leslie doesn’t need any help with History.  She always aces the tests, getting 95’s or 100’s.  I just don’t know what to say to her.  What if Dave finds out?”

“Ask her to the movies.  Joan of Arc is opening this weekend, and it’s going to be a blockbuster, like Cars last year. Good luck, and I’ll catch ya later.”

I kept putting off asking Leslie out.  What if she said no?  That thought unnerved me.  I rehearsed lines in my mind, making sure I didn’t trip on my words.  The lines went like this:

“Leslie, how would you like to go to see Joan of Arc Saturday night?

“Leslie, do you want to go out for an ice cream Friday night?”

“Hi, Leslie, would you like to meet over at Pinehenge Park?”  The lines came out so effortlessly, but of course, Leslie wasn’t around.

Two days later Perez cornered me in the hall.  “So Tim, did you ask Leslie out?”

“No, not yet,” I replied.

“Time is ticking.  Tomorrow is the last day of classes.”

The sands were slipping through the hourglass in my mind, and I felt more helpless with each grain that passed through.

The next day at lunch I overheard Leslie and Dave talking.  They said something about Pinehenge Park and 6 o’clock.  So I decided to take a stroll down to the park to do a little innocent spying.

A lot of the gang goes down to the park to hang out, and it’s always fun shooting the breeze with friends.  The oaks and maples were in full bloom, it was 75 degrees, and I needed a study break.  As I was walking down a tree-flanked path, I began to hear two familiar voices over a din of rock music.  The voices belonged to Leslie and Dave.  I decided to hide behind an oak tree across the way and eavesdrop.  I’d seen them together before but usually in a group.  I’d never seen them alone at Pinehenge Park.

“Leslie, be there at 9.”

“I’ve got to study, Dave.  Exams are next week.”

“Study, study, study!  That’s all you ever do!  I was hoping we’d hang out with the guys after the game, then we could get it going later on. You’d better produce for me tonight–I’ve waited long enough.  What’ll I tell the guys if you don’t show? “

Why does Leslie put up with his nonsense? I thought.

“Dave, your friends are superficial creeps.  I’m not a piece of meat for you to devour.”

“Don’t give me that baloney.  It’s a man’s world–women were made for men, and girls were made for boys.  It’s biological manifest destiny.  Give me some tonight, or it’ll be over!”

I was seething inside.  The girl of my dreams was right in front of me, and she was with a louse.  Meanwhile, the argument was escalating. If only I had Leslie’s cell number, I could go behind a tree nearby, and that’d distract Dave.

“Don’t bother, Dave.  I’ve finally seen you for what you are.  I was naive for a long time.  You seemed all right at first–you’re handsome and athletic, but you’re pushy and I don’t like that.  I’m saving my first time for someone I really like.”

I respected Leslie for standing up to Dave.  I too am a virgin, and I plan to wait until I’m married, regardless of what the guys say.  Meanwhile, the quarrel raged on:

“I’ll find another girl before you find another guy.  Julie Jensen is willing, and so is Kelly White.”

“Then go ahead and see Julie,” Leslie said sharply.  “She’s more your speed anyway.  And one more thing, Tim–get a life!

“Don’t talk to me like that.  I’m Dave Donahue,” he snarled, as he grabbed Leslie’s knapsack and unzipped it.  Her books and papers tumbled out.  He then shoved her to the ground.  Leslie’s face turned white, and tears began to stream down her cheeks.  Adrenaline shot through my body.

“Let her be, you lowlife,” I shouted, as I emerged from my hiding place, 50 feet away.

“Just who are you, nerdface?” Dave sneered.

“I hate to see a girl treated like that,” I said firmly.

Leslie was still crying but managed to smile weakly at me.

“One way or another, you’re going to give it to me.  Hopefully, we can get it over with tonight, because I want it,” Dave said, menacingly.  “Anyway, I’ve got to cruise.  The game starts at 7.  You know where to be tonight.  I’ll be waiting,” Dave said with a sly grin.  Leslie gave Dave an icy stare as he walked toward his car.

I was finally alone with Leslie.  I picked up her books and papers, which were strewn all over the grass.  I noticed her skin was still pale.  “Leslie, are you all right,” I asked quietly.

“O.K., just a little dizzy,” she said, as she slowly regained her composure.

“Has he tried to come on to you before tonight,” I asked.

“A few times, but he’s all talk.  He did scare me this time; he’d never done anything like this.  He’s probably stressed out because of the big game.  It’s over between us anyhow, and summer’s coming.  I’ll be glad to get to camp.”

“Leslie, I was wondering if we could go to the ice cream parlor,” I said quickly.

“My treat!  I owe you one,” Leslie said emphatically.  I don’t know what he would have done if you hadn’t shown up.   He’s got a temper, and he’s getting more controlling.”

We talked for an hour at Marty’s Ice Cream Parlor nearby.

“Leslie, do you know about the Teens Against Violence Coalition?  Students started to meet a month after the Columbine shooting in 1999.  We talk about combating all sorts of violence, from shootings to bullying to date rape,” I said.  “Olinda Jackson is the one to speak to about violent boyfriends.”

“Maybe I’ll call her this weekend,” Leslie replied.

I walked Leslie home, and I encouraged her to call or e-mail me.   The next few days passed quickly, and I took my exams.  After five days, I decided to give Leslie a call to see how she was doing.  For 30 minutes I stalled, as I approached the phone, then shied away.  I wish I had Leslie’s e-mail, because e-mail is a godsend for shy people.  As it stood, I was a shy person with only a phone number.  Sure, I could send Leslie a letter, but she’ll be leaving for camp any day.  Finally, I dialed the number.

“Leslie, this is Tim McDonald.  I was wondering how you’ve been doing since last Friday.”

“Pretty well–very busy getting ready for camp.  Sorry I haven’t gotten back to you-I’ve been so busy!  I’ll be back from camp in two months.  I’ll be in touch in late August!”

Late August was two long months away.  I had to see her before then.

Meanwhile, I had gotten a job cleaning at the local top-40 station.  It wasn’t a deejay job, but it was a start.

The next two weeks went by slowly.  There was a hit song out, “Yours for Life,” by Sara Stanley, which reminded me of Leslie.  Sara sounds like a cross between Mariah Carey and a female John Mayer.  Since the song knocked me out, I requested it every night, hoping she’d hear it and call me.  I wasn’t sure if Leslie would be listening to the radio at camp, as it was hard to pick up a local station so far away.  I kept requesting the song, though.

I made up my mind that I had to see Leslie on her birthday.  I decided I would surprise her at camp that day.  By the time the 14th of July rolled around, I was wired.  I was even losing weight.  The night before Leslie’s birthday I tossed and turned.  How would the next day turn out?

Saturday the 14th arrived, at last.  Luckily, I had the day off from work.  I was planning to leave for Camp Laurel at noon with Mike O’Connor.

“Tim, where are you going today,” my mom asked, shortly after I’d gotten up and showered.

“I’m going to visit a friend at Camp Laurel.  I’m going up with Mike, and he’s driving, so I won’t need the car today.  I’m paying Mike 7 bucks for gas.

“Be sure to get some breakfast.  It’s going to be a hot one today,” my mom reminded me.

“I’ll grab some toast and juice,” I said quickly.

While slipping the bread slices into the toaster, I thought about that Sara Stanley tune again.  It was just the kind of song Leslie would like: folk-tinged pop.  It was our song, though she didn’t know it yet.

Mike and I left at noon sharp.  We arrived at the camp at one.

“They’ve got to be swimming now,” I said, perspiring.

“They usually go in around 1:30,” Mike replied, clutching his towel and preparing to make a mad dash for the lake.  “Everybody will be in today–that sun’s a razor, and it’s 90 degrees.”

We headed for the lobby.

“I’m looking for a Leslie Morgan who works here,” I asked the receptionist, a dark-skinned Puerto Rican girl named Maria Rodriguez.  “She’s a counselor, and today’s her birthday.”

“You’re out of luck.  Leslie went to the shore with some of her friends.  It was her day off.”

My face fell when I heard that.

“As long as you guys are here, you might as well go for a swim.  Salvage something,” Maria offered.

“Yes, yes,” Mike said merrily, eyeing Maria.  I was in the dumps because I was going to miss out on Leslie-and the Jersey shore was 200 miles away!

“Come on, Tim, let’s go for a swim.  Just leave a note for Les after we’re done,” Mike said.

I reluctantly walked to the dressing room.  After suiting up, however, we were in the water in ten seconds flat.  While we were swimming, I was thinking about what I’d write to Leslie in that note.  Mike couldn’t stop talking about Maria the receptionist-love at first sight?!

After we were done and dressed, we went back to the lobby.  I borrowed a pen and a piece of paper, and wrote:

Dear Leslie,

I know you will be surprised to hear from me.  I wanted to visit you on your birthday, but you had gone for the weekend.  I hope you had a good day.  Please drop me a line.

Sincerely, Tim McDonald

“That note’s too generic,” Mike chided.

“But it’s sincere-and that’s what she likes,” I retorted.

After waiting for Mike to finish chatting with Maria, we decided to head back, stopping by Perez Garcia’s on the way back.  After hanging out and eating pizza with Perez and Pat, Mike dropped me off at my house.

A few days passed.  I buried myself in my work.  I wasn’t sure if Leslie would write back.  I lost another two pounds.

“Tim, I’ve set up an appointment with Dr. French.  He’s awfully good to talk to,” Mom said.

“I’m fine.  I have a crush on some girl, that’s all,” I said impatiently.

“But all you do is work and think about that girl.  She’s not the only fish.”

“That’s such a cliché,” I replied.  “Besides, Leslie’s unique.  She’s an amazing writer and artist-not your average fish in the sea.”

“There’ll be others,” Mom said, brushing it off.

There was no one like Leslie.

My sister Joanne went to get the mail.  When she came back, I asked her if I’d gotten anything.

“Let’s see: the phone bill, a Wendy’s ad, a Justin Timberlake Fan Club newsletter for me, Baseball Digest for Dad, Better Homes and Gardens for Mom, and a letter for you from a Morgan with a Laurel, Pennsylvania postmark.

“Morgan?!  Laurel?!  That’s Leslie’s last name, and that’s where she works,” I gasped.

I ran to my room.  My pulse raced, and my legs trembled as I tore open the envelope.  I then read:

Dear Tim,

Thanks for remembering my birthday-what a great surprise!  It was so good to hear from you.  It gets lonely up here, even though we’re busy all the time.  I’d like you to come up for a visit sometime next month.  And maybe we can catch the sunset at Pinehenge.

Sincerely, Leslie

“Mom?”

“Yes, Tim.”

“Cancel that appointment with Dr. French.  And Mom?  May I have the car next Saturday?

http://www.ripplesstoryindex.com

Accident on the Bus

A few years ago when I used to travel to my office by public

transport, utilizing a nonstop express service, I often noticed

another regular passenger. She was a strikingly beautiful woman

of about 40, raven haired with Eurasian features. She was tall,

about 5'10", and always immaculately dressed. I have always been

a 'legs man', and Monica bad the best legs I have ever seen

before or since. She drew attention to them by wearing high

heels and pencil-line skirts just above the knee. I contrived to

sit beside her from time to time and we gradually became

acquainted. I was divorced, but Monica was married - not

entirely happily as it transpired. We developed a kind of

'platonic' affair, but I had no hope of it turning physical due

to her loyalty to her family.

On the day in question she was on the bus as usual when I

boarded it to return home. Fortunately she was in a seat by

herself and I was able to sit beside her without arousing

suspicion from other regular passengers. She looked as achingly

desirable as usual. She was wearing a pale blue suit and almost

white, sheer panty hose with white shoes and a crisp white

blouse. Her skirt was about six inches above her knees as she

was sitting, and I fantasized (as usual) about what was under

that skirt. We talked as the bus slowly wound its way out of

the city towards our suburb, some 45 minutes ride away. We were

briefly held up for road works but the delay was short. However,

at about this point I noticed that Monica kept crossing and

uncrossing her legs. I had not seen her do this before - she

normally sat very still and poised. The delicious thought

entered my head that she might need to use the toilet but I

dismissed this as just the product of my fertile imagination and

desire for her. My stop was about 15 minutes before Monica's,

and to my delight and surprise, when we were about half way

there, she asked is she could get off with me and come up to my

house for a while. This was totally out of character, and I

sensed that something was wrong. She asked if I could then drive

her close to her own bus stop, from where she would walk home to

avoid suspicion. I readily agreed and pressed her to tell me if

everything was alright.

After a moment's hesitation, she told me, rather coyly, that she

had been running late for the express and had not had time to

visit the toilet before leaving her office. She now needed to go

rather badly and didn't think she could wait 'till she reached

home and wished to use my toilet if I didn't mind. I felt as if

I would pass out from pleasure, and was afraid she would hear my

heart start thumping in my chest. Here was the woman of my

nightly fantasies admitting, that she needed to pee so

desperately that she couldn't last the extra twenty minutes or

so. As I sympathized, she began to open up. 'I'm absolutely

bursting' she told me. 'I don't ever remember needing to use the

bathroom so badly. I don't know why but I just can't hold on. If

we don't get to your place soon I think I'm going to burst.' The

way she spoke almost had me coming, and I could barely conceal

my erection and erratic breathing.

By now Monica was fidgeting almost continuously. To my delight

she tried sitting on her hands, but this obviously did no good.

'I'm sorry', she said. 'I know this is very undignified but I

just can't help it.' So saying, she held one hand between her

long thighs, pressing her skirt into the join of her legs. In so

doing her skirt tightened over her legs revealing every sinew

and curve, and rode up further to reveal white lace at the hem

of her slip. I desperately wanted to hold myself by this time;

though for a different reason. She was sucking her breath in

between her teeth in a way I have only heard women do when they

are in agony to empty their bladders. Just before we reached my

stop she suddenly opened her legs and thrust her hand up between

them, grabbing at herself and rubbing vigorously over her sex. I

saw almost all of her legs but just couldn't see her panties,

much to my frustration. I then asked her if she still wanted to

get off with me or if she could make it home. She replied that

she was sure that she had started to wet herself, and had to use

my toilet.

My stop arrived. How Monica managed to walk off the bus in a

controlled manner I do not know. I was cursing the fact that my

home was only 5 minutes at the most from the bus stop, and

wished the walk could have taken hours. As we walked, Monica

looked around her and stopped for a moment crossing her legs and

half crouching. She didn't hold herself in the open, though my

street was deserted apart from the two of us. Nevertheless, poor

Monica looked to be in real trouble. 'Are you OK?' I asked her.

She replied 'I'm sorry Chris, I don't think I can hold on! I

think I'm going to have an accident.' We were about 50 meters

from my driveway, which was quite long and secluded from the

road by trees and shrubs. 'Walk ahead of me' I said. 'I'll walk

behind you so that if any cars come up the road, they won't see

if you do wet yourself. Hang on, you'll make it!' That walk was

the most erotic of my life. Monica could hardly walk into my

driveway. Three times she stopped and pressed her legs together,

and I was able to clearly see a wet mark which had snaked its

way down the inside of her left leg. The color of her panty

hose accentuated the dampness. 'Oh help,' she groaned, 'my

undies are soaking. How am I going - to sit in your car?'

By now Monica was in a complete panic. As I pulled out my door

key she groaned and held herself between the legs again, in the

manner of a little girl who wants a wee wee! She had much the

same kind of expression on her face too. 'Don't hold your dress

like that,' I told her. 'If you're not careful you'll get it

wet, and how will you hide that?' She realized that I made sense

and removed her hand. I could not help but stare at the obvious

trickle of pee which was apparent on both her legs, and I could

only guess at the state of her panties. 'For heaven's sake

Chris, open the door. I'm doing it,' Monica hissed through her

teeth. As she did so she suddenly sucked in her breath and

frantically pulled up her pale blue skirt and white slip,

holding her crotch and making scissoring motions with her legs.

I didn't want to take my eyes off her for a second, but had to

open the door, which I did. I held the door for her and motioned

for her to enter. Holding the front of her suit skirt around her

hips she dashed inside and stopped. 'Oh where's your toilet?'

she begged. Before I could answer she moaned 'Oh no! I can't

stop it. It's going to go all over the floor.' She pushed past

me, back out the door and into the carport. I followed her and

saw a constant stream of urine coursing down her left leg again.

'Your dress' I said, 'It's getting wet!' Monica pulled up the

back of her clothes as she moved behind my car, secluded from

the end of the driveway.

For the first time I saw her panties. On the seat of her plain

white knickers a large wet stain was clearly visible. As she

moved, Monica tried to pull down her pants and pantyhose but it

was far too late. She kicked off her high heeled shoes and

simultaneously crouched into a squat Her pee poured out of her

panty crotch in a stream which grew into a torrent. Monica said

nothing. She just squatted in my driveway with her pee gushing

through her panties. I couldn't resist and moved around to stand

in front of her and watch. She just looked up at me helplessly

and kept peeing into the large puddle that surrounded her feet.

I could feel myself on the verge of coming and held my penis

tightly from inside my pocket. Eventually Monica's bladder was

empty. Despite her obvious embarrassment she let out an

involuntary sigh of relief as she stood up. 'What am I going to

do?' she said flatly, looking at me for inspiration. 'I can't go

in your house like this.' She stood there, a picture of

loveliness with her skirt around her waist and soaking wet

panties and legs. Pee was still dripping from her panties, and

the pungent odour of her urine filled the air.

'Hold your dress out of the way,' I said. She did so and I

approached her and peeled her pantyhose down her legs. As she

stepped out of them I briefly held on to the gusset which was

warm and absolutely sodden. She stepped inside the kitchen door

but her feet were wet and she waited, skirt still held aloft

while I got a towel. She undid her wet skirt and removed it. She

started to dry her feet and legs but her panties were dripping

constantly. They had become partly transparent and I could see

her mound of pubic hair through the wet material. I had to do

something or explode, but I was not game to admit that the sight

of her wetting her pants had turned me on. I used the excuse

that her legs and body were exciting me - which was also true. I

then put my arms around her. At this point the realization of

what she had done hit her, and she began to cry. I held her to

me, not caring that her panties were wetting the front of my

suit. As I held her, I could not help myself and reached down

with one hand to feel her knickers. I ran my hand between her

damp thighs and lingered over the saturated material of her

crotch. Before either of us knew what was happening I was

masturbating her, which to my amazement she allowed with no

resistance. She responded by undoing my trousers and seizing my

very erect penis.

Unfortunately my arousal at this point was so high that her

touch was the final straw, and I climaxed over her stomach as we

stood there. I was too spent to recover in the little time we

had to get her home, but at least I rubbed her to a climax of

her own. She asked if she could leave her wet undies in my

rubbish bin, rather than risk having to admit what happened if

her husband saw them before they were washed. Needless to say I

still have the panties as a very special souvenir. Monica and I

did get into a physical relationship after that but it was

sporadic and eventually she terminated it. I still see her

occasionally in our local shopping centre, and every time I do I

become aroused recalling the time I watched her wet herself.

Necrophillia

At seventeen I thought that my life was pretty much over. I was sick of feeling like a loser at school and being rejected by all the other kids in school and in my neighborhood. Sure I am a computer geek, and I don't play sports, but I don't look like a freak or anything. Maybe I'm a lit- tle skinny, and have a somewhat rough complexion, but there are hundreds of other guys out there that could be interchangeable with me. So why did the other kids always pick on me? What had I done to deserve this type of ridicule? o-O-o It was just past 2 a.m. when I finally turned off my computer. I had been online for more than 6 hours, since just after dinner. As the hard drive whirred to a stop I stood and stretched my tense muscles. I and looked over at my reflection in my bedroom closet-door mirror knowing full well what I was going to do. I had been surfing the X-rated web pages again and had been sitting there for hours with my usual hard on. I stopped wearing underwear a long time ago because of the mess I'd make with my pre-come oozing all over the place. These days I always wear shorts so I can just pull my dick out and stroke it while I look at stuff on the Internet. As usual after a long session surfing the sex-net I needed to bring myself off. So as I looked at my reflection in the mirror I undressed, taking my time and enjoying the sight of my hard nipples as I pulled my T-shirt off over my head. The sight of my stiff cock popping into view as I pushed my shorts down to the floor always pleased me. (I think that I have a really nice looking cock.) I stood there looking at my body looking back at me. What was wrong with me? I wondered for the thousandth time? I couldn't see any major defects, as a matter of fact I thought that my cock looked pretty impressive, and although I wasn't one of those athletic hard bodies I thought I looked pretty good. As I stood there I started to stroke my dick. The long hours of arousal looking at all those X-rated web sites had made me almost comatose, but now that I'd finally taken the situation in hand, my body thrilled at the sensations that it was experiencing as I pulled the sensitive skin of my cock. I watched carefully as my reflection tensed before me in its pleasure taking. I leaned my upper body forward and stuck my butt out so I could slam my stroking hand deeper giving my cock more sensation with longer thrusts. As I stood there jacking off, faster and faster, my mind began to envision Christine. God just the thought of her made me ready! Several more thrusts and I was coming. As I spurted into my Kleenex, I imagined that I was coming in Christine for the millionth time. I imagined her beautiful body spread out on a bed, legs open arms stretched out to me. I could feel our skin touching as I lay down between those perfect thighs and shoved my cock up into her moist pussy. I could feel her luscious tits pressed against my chest as I rutted in and out of her. She would grab my butt cheeks and try to shove me deeper into her, I would come in her and make her pregnant with me baby as she screamed in lust crazed joy. We would marry and have lots of kids. Then I was standing in my darkened room, with my come nestled in the Kleenex in my hand. And I sighed, looking at my body in the mirror, wishing I had the nerve to at least try to ask Christine for a date or some- thing. The morning came all too soon, another school day and then off to my after school job. And a strange job it was. I still didn't know why I had taken this particular job from the work/school program. All I knew was that I liked getting off an hour and a half early each day and I got paid to do it. But working at the local mortuary didn't do much to help my reputation at school. The good side of the job was that I was pretty much left alone; all I had to do was clean the place after hours and then go home. This was a three-day a week job from 8 p.m. till midnight and no one was ever there to criticize me or to tell me what to do. So I goofed off a lot because it didn't really take more than an hour and a half to do the work. The next day I finally couldn't take it any more -- I had to ask Christine out. I knew that it was hopeless but I was so tired of fantasizing about it; that I felt rejection was better than never knowing. I mean what if she actually said yes! What if because I had the guts to say something to her, we became friends, and who knew, we might even become lovers in time. I knew that Christine was different than the other girls. Although she was beautiful and very popular she wasn't like so many of them, all stuck up with herself. Every time I'd seen her she was always nice to the people she was talking to. To me she was an angel, a beautiful unearthly vision; a person beyond the normal standards. I waited until lunchtime to try to talk to her. My hands were sweating all morning long, and I couldn't concentrate on any of my morning classes as I day dreamed of our encounter. In my imagination I saw her saying yes to me and even giving me a little peck on the cheek to seal our date. I was in a fog of romantic love and lust, which was firmly dashed into the gutter by 12:22 p.m. that day. I hesitantly walked up to Christine at lunchtime. She was surrounded by friends and as I got closer my nerves began to desert me. But taking a deep breath and clenching my hands I walked right up to her and said, "Hi Christine, you probably don't know me, but we're in the same home room. And, well -- I was wondering -- if you might -- ah -- want to go to the movies with me -- or something..." As I held my breath in hopeful expectation, a varsity football player sauntered over and sat down beside my dream girl. He put an arm around her and said good naturedly, "Hey boy, you trying to move in on my girl?" Christine just stared through me, sort of like I was causing a nuisance. I mumbled, "Sorry, just kidding -- sorry..." And I got out of there fast, almost running to get away from their view. I was so humiliated, how could I have thought that a girl like Christine could have been interested in someone like me? What an idiot I was to even think it. I spent the rest of that day in abject misery, alternating between wishing I was dead, and wishing that everyone else in the school would die instead. But finally 3:30 came and I was dismissed from class. Although my job didn't start until 8 p.m. I got to leave school early, supposedly to do my homework since I'd also be working sometime during the evening. As I walked home I stopped by the chain-link fence and watched as the cheerleader squad came out onto the field. There was Christine in all her beauty. Every- thing receded into the background as I stood there mesmerized, watching her perfect body going through the squads practice routine. I wanted that body, I wanted that girl almost more than life it's self. God! How I lusted after that woman. When they were done with their practice and gone from the field, I finally turned and headed home -- with only one thought in my head -- get home and "get off" while I envisioned Christine taking my spurting cock between her lovely lips. Two days had passed since my rejection and humiliation at the hands of my dream girl. She wouldn't know it but I had fucked her in the mouth and pussy five times since her rejection of me. But I was brought up short that morning when the rumor spread through school that something had happened to Christine. She was dead!? I couldn't believe it, how could some- thing happen to a healthy beautiful teenage girl, the object of my love. I was devastated, totally whipped! I'd never see my dream lover again, god I wished that we could have gotten to know each other better. Apparently Christine had had a massive stroke while performing at the football game the night before. The rumor was that she'd been taking drugs, something like speed to give her extra energy. And she just collapsed right there during the game. I still couldn't believe it. That evening I almost called in sick, but I needed the money and knew that even if my dream lover was dead, there wasn't much I could do but go on. So I dragged my sorry self to work, arriving just as the mortuary staff was going off duty. As I punched in I overheard one of the morticians say, "Man what a waste, she could have been a beauty queen. I really hate it when young kids bite the big one like that. I hope they find the bastard who was feeding her those drugs." I stopped in mid stride as I put two and two together. They were talking about my Christine! She must have been brought in to this mortuary. My heart stopped for a moment, could I see her one more time, one last time up close all by myself? I nervously awaited while the last of the evening staff left. When I heard the key in the lock indicating that the last person had left the building I rushed to the morgue. I normally stayed away from this area because it was so gross, and smelled strange. But this night was different, this night my fantasy lover was there, waiting for me. I burst through the metal doors and looked wildly around the room. There were three workstations in varying stages of completion. I knew instantly which one was Christine, she was in the while coffin with white silk showing from the open hinged top. I don't know how I knew this from where I stood, but I was right. A crept up to the raised coffin and looked in to see my fantasy laying peacefully with her arms at her sides. My god, they had dressed her in her cheer- leader's uniform -- she looked so alive to me -- I knew that if I shook her that she'd sit up rubbing sleep from her eyes. I couldn't resist the urge to try and awaken her. I reached a trembling hand out and touched her face. It was cold, as cold as the room, which was pretty cold. I shook her anyway, and although she moved with my pushes, she didn't wake up, but then I didn't really think that she would. I stood there for the longest time, drinking in her beauty. Even with her eyes closed, lying in a coffin, she was the most beautiful girl in the world to me. I felt this huge lose; the world had lost a bit of beauty that it would never be able to get back. I touched her lips with my fingers, rubbing them back and forth from corner to corner, wishing that they had kissed me when they were alive. What a waste I thought, what a terrible waste. Then a strange thought popped into my head. I had this crazy urge to kiss her goodbye. As the idea formed in my mind it was turned into action, yes I was going to kiss a dead girl. She might have rejected me in life, but now she would have to accept my love, there was nothing she could do about it now -- was there? I grabbed the step stool and climbed up and leaned over the silk lined coffin. They had expertly made up her face, the eye shadow looked just like she used to wear, and her lips were covered with just the right shade of lipstick. I looked into her lovely face for a long time. I was only inches away from her, closer than I'd ever been before. Lovingly I touched her lips to mine, then pulled away to look at her face again. I could taste the lipstick, I wanted to sink into her to become one with my Christine, I loved her after all! I pressed my lips tighter to hers and moved my head mashing our lips together like a passionate lover. She lay there and accepted my kisses. Then wanting to get closer I climbed into the coffin with her, I couldn't help myself. There wasn't enough room for two of us so I lay on top of her. I was hard now, painfully so. My heart was pounding a mile a minute and I could feel that familiar wetness of pre-come in my underwear. I kissed her lips harder and smeared her lipstick as I lustfully smashed our lips together. I pushed my tongue through her unresisting lips to run it along her perfect teeth. God I loved her so. After a bit, knowing that if I was caught something terrible would happen to me, I pushed a hand up under Christine's sweater. My heart stopped as I realized that the mortician hadn't put a bra on her. I guessed they didn't think she'd care. Immediately I shoved my other hand up her short cheerleader skirt and was re- warded with the feel of pubic hair flowing through my fingers. I honestly had only wanted to kiss my fantasy lover goodbye, but now I had to do more. As I unzipped my pants and shoved them down my thighs I wondered if Christine had ever had sex with a guy in life. Well either way, I wouldn't let her go to her grave without experiencing it at least once. I was a sloppy mess, pre-come squishing everywhere as I pulled my painful rigid cock out into the cool morgue air-conditioned room. Fumbling between our crotches I position my live pulsing cock at her dead quietly excepting pussy. It was strange, really strange, as I pushed my slick dick into her waiting body. I could feel her love tunnel against my cock as I thrust home. The first thrust into my lover was slightly painful, but I didn't care, I was living my fantasy, I was fucking Christine, the most beautiful girl in school. As I pulled back out and thrust into her again it was easier, and as I continued to screw Christine I began to slip in and out of her body easily. Lost in my lust for Christine I reached out with both hands and pulled at her thighs until her wonderfully smooth legs rose slightly at the knees, allowing me even better penetration. I was in heaven, my body was raging, and my heart was thumping so hard that I thought that I could actually hear it. I was sure that if Christine were alive right then, she would be enjoying my frantic lovemaking. My minds-eye could actually see Christine underneath my humping body, she was screaming at me to 'fuck her harder' and I did, but I knew that the moment had come, I could feel my seed welling up inside me. One last thrust -- I jabbed cruelly into her, holding my cock buried as deeply as I could -- and let go -- pumping my come into her, feeling my cock expand each time I shot another gush into her body. Finally I was done and pulled out. I knelt over beautiful Christine and wiped my come cover cock along her perfect lips, thinking how beautiful she looked lying there with my white come mixed with her bright lipstick. As I struggled out of Christine's coffin, I felt completely sated. She had given me the gift of peace, finally letting me have her intimately. And I had given her my little gift too. As I stood on the stool beside her coffin looking down on her wonderful face, the urge struck me to kiss her one last time. I could taste my come on her lips, but I didn't mind, in fact I licked them clean. I'll never forget the taste of my come mixed with her lipstick.

Looking back, I was pretty stupid at seventeen. I know that I was infatuated with Christine, and I know that I was pretty miserable, but you'd think that I would have at least noticed the surveillance camera in the ceiling of the morgue. When I had to look at what I did to Christine on the video in court, I couldn't believe how gross it all looked; it hadn't seemed that bad while I was doing it. Luckily I was only seventeen, because they can only hold me at the youth farm for another 18 months and frankly I'd rather be fucked by my cell mate George for the next year and a half, than some old crusty inmate at the federal prison. I can barley wait to get out of detention, I'm a lot more experienced than I was at seventeen, and this time I'll go for a live female. And I won't take no for an answer this time...

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A Winter Seduction  

She had been preparing all day for his arrival. Every detail was attended to. The house was in order, the table was set. A light meal of shrimp sautéed in olive oil and garlic was simmering on the stove, and a loaf of French bread was keeping warm in the oven. The bedroom was carefully prepared to fascinate and tease his senses. A few green plants were placed around the room. Fresh flowers on the tall dresser added color, while the lamp that stood on the table next to a chair held a red bulb that softened and gave the room a romantic glow. Scented candles were placed strategically around the room. The CD player held a mix of soft music. Clean linens adorned the bed, and several throw pillows were leaning up against the headboard. A bottle of wine was chilling in a bucket of ice, the glasses placed next to it on the nightstand. Massage oils are warming in a hot bowl of water and fresh towels were placed in a basket near the bed.   

She glanced at the clock and knew he would be leaving work within the next half- hour. Quickly, she started to put her plan into motion. She was freshly showered. She mixed one part baby oil with one part jasmine oil and massaged her entire body till her skin was gleaming and smooth. All that was left was to get dressed. She slipped into a red satin teddy and matching lace panties. Her hair was pulled up with little strands loosely falling down the sides of her face. She pulled her black coat out of the coat closet, wrapped it securely around her and tied the belt around her waist. Another quick glance in the mirror and some minor touches to her make-up and she was ready.   

She walked out the door and turned the porch light out behind her. The only light provided was the flickering Christmas lights. Her car was parked across the street. She got into the car and waited. Finally, she saw him pull up in front of the house. He turned of his engine and walked to the door. She quickly, but silently got out of the car and walked up behind him just as he had his key in the door. She slipped her arms around him, pressing her body into his back and whispered, "Welcome home, Honey," into his ear. He turned to her and she made sure to keep her body close to his. Her lips brushed his softly, and with a whisper that was barely audible, she told him she wanted him. She looked him in the eyes and kissed his mouth again, this time with hot, longing passion. When the kiss was over, she stepped back from him and untied the belt to her coat, let it drop onto the porch, and stepped back so he could get a good look at her. The flickering Christmas lights danced over her body, and she could see that he was trying to adjust his eyes.   

She slid her hands down her hips and then back up again. She slowly moved her hands across her belly and then slipped them down into her panties. She caressed herself slowly; sliding two fingers into her wetness as her other hand massaged her breast. He gazed at her for a moment and she knew that he was becoming very excited by the vision he saw. She slowly removed her hand from her panties and traced her lips with her passion nectar. Then she kissed him again, only this time she reached down and massaged his swollen shaft. She took him by the hand, and without a word or a second thought to the coat that she left in a heap on the porch floor, she led him into the house and up to the bedroom.   

She walked over to the chair and asked him to sit down. She turned on the lamp and the room glowed with soft red light. She lit a few candles, turned on the music and poured a glass of wine. She walked over to him and knelt down in front of him, taking a sip of champagne and then sharing a sip with him. She placed the glass on the table and reached up to hold his face in her hands and kiss him. Their kiss was slow and passionate, and when it was over she lingered and showered his lips with kisses that were so soft he wasn’t sure if he felt her breath or her lips on his.   

She took him by the hand and they stood together. Slowly and silently, she undressed him. She began to kiss all the way down his body. His lips, his neck, his collar bone, his chest, and when she got to his nipples she brushed her tongue over them and lingered there for a few extra seconds. She then continued down his stomach, his belly, all the way down to his erect and very ready member. She took it in her hands and kissed it, licking it from the base all the way to the tip. She parted her lips and took the swollen head between her lips, sucking it gently, and then she removed it and continued kissing all the way down his hard shaft.   

She stood up and kissed his mouth once more, guiding him back into a sitting position on the chair. She walked over to the bed and faced him. She told him to start stroking himself. He did, while she sat on the edge of the bed and started stroking herself through her panties. They continued stroking themselves, all the while staring into each others' eyes. Moans of excitement escaped their lips. She stood and walked over to him, exposing one of her breasts. "Lick it," she told him, and he bent towards her, taking her swollen nipple into his mouth. He continued to stroke himself as he licked her nipple and traced it with his tongue. He wanted more, and he tried to suck it into his mouth, but she pulled away and walked back over to the bed, lying down and propping herself up on the throw pillows. She slipped her panties off, bending her knees and spreading her legs. She positioned herself so that he had a perfect view of her erotic wonder. She slid her fingers down her pubic hair and continued down between her vaginal lips, finding her opening and dipping her finger into her own fluid before sliding it back up to her magic button and circling it. He continued stroking himself and watched her lift her pelvis while pleasuring herself. With her free hand, she once more exposed her breasts and took her nipple between her fingers. He watched her as her excitement began to grow. He started to stroke himself faster and in a throaty whisper he told her how badly he wanted her. "I can't wait any longer," he moaned.   

She slid her legs off the bed, stood up, and walked over to him. He was ready to take her. His penis felt like it was going to explode, and he could barely contain himself. But she wasn't ready just yet. Instead, she told him to lie on the bed belly down. He looked at her with a bewildered look, but he obeyed. She slipped off the teddy and reached over, took one of the bottles of body oil, opened the cap, and poured it over his back. She straddled him, sitting on his butt and grinding against him a little. He could feel her slippery juices on his thighs. She started to massage him, starting at his shoulders and working her way down his back to his waist and then back up again. She pressed her body against his, grinding against him and making her own body slippery with the oil as well. She slipped herself off of him, spreading his legs and pouring the oil over his butt. She massaged his cheeks slowly but with a firm grip, working the oil into his hips and between his thighs.   

He felt her pour the oil again, this time on his lower back from hip to hip. She worked the oil in and slipped her finger down the crack of his butt. He stiffened a little, not sure exactly what to make of the situation. She assured him with a soft whisper to lay still and trust her. Slowly, she continued to massage him and once again slipped her finger down his crack till she found his anal opening. Again, she whispered to lay still and continued massaging him there until she felt his body relax. With her free hand, she poured some more oil and made the area very warm and slippery. She applied a little more pressure with her finger, careful not to take him out of his comfort zone. She slid her finger down a little lower until she felt his testicles, and then up and then down again, slowly massaging him. She heard little moans escape his lips and bent to kiss him on the small of his back. She nudged him to roll over on his back.   

Her kisses began at his belly button, and she kissed her way down until she found his penis. It was very hard and the head was swollen. Her hand stroked him and she sucked him and worked him with her tongue. Her other hand gently massaged his testicles, and her fingers found themselves sliding down his crack again, searching for his opening. When she found it, she softly massaged and drew circles around it, being very careful to go slow. He reached down and held her head, pressing his aching member even deeper into her mouth. She applied a small amount of pressure with her finger and slowly and gently penetrated him. His moans were loud, and as he came his body shuttered with spasms that seemed to last forever.  

 Continuing to stroke him with her mouth, she let her finger penetrate him a little deeper. When it was over, she removed her finger and gently kissed his exhausted penis and then kissed his mouth. They held each other for a few minutes in silence. She handed him a clean towel and she took one herself. She started to clean off the oils from his body and he did the same for her. Then, she got up and got their bathrobes. They slipped on their robes, went down to the dinning room, and ate while talking about their newest erotic experience.

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Chapter 7 – A Burning Ambition

"A word to the wise," Josie whispered, "Even think of commenting on last night and we'll do a thorough investigation which will show that you're covered in your own cum – again. That will carry the maximum penalty." She drew her finger across her throat and pointed to my newly re-caged genitalia. "What's more – I'll be the one to give you the unkindest cut of all."

"B..but, last night..."

"Last night was last night. Today I've got a job to do – it's the ordeal by fire," she sniggered, "You could say that last night you had an old flame and today your getting a much hotter one. Right, up you get."

She reached down for the chain attached to my Cage and pulled hard – I had no alternative but to scramble as best I could to my feet.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Out to the Ordeal By Fire," she smiled. "And you'll be able to think of my cooling mouth as the flames get nearer."

I was taken to the large room that had been where my balls had undergone the violent twisting.

The Sergeant was busy setting up some contraption near a table whilst Carver was bringing a large candle across.

"Is he ready?" the Sergeant asked.

"Yes," said Josie.

Carver looked up. "You're losing your way, Josie – he's still in the Cage. The heat won't get through that."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot," she knelt down in front of me and undid the ball strap before pulling off the Cage whilst the other two got on with what they were doing. 

I couldn't help it, the memory of last night was too clear and her face too close to my cock. I thrust my hips forward and felt her face against my swelling member. Her mouth opened wide and for a moment I thought she was going to suck my dick again. 

It was only for a moment – because, instead of the soft sensation of her lips and tongue I felt her teeth bite hard just behind the hood of my penis. I yelped as she drew back.

"Problems with the Cage catching on his prick," Josie said quickly. It was enough to soften my ardour.

Within moments she had produced the long nose pincers I'd seen before and the Tube. The Tube had now been taped to a flat board which was about three inches longer and two inches wider on each side. She deftly slipped the Tube over the pincers, grasped my foreskin with them and drew my cock into the Tube and out the other end.

"Over here," Carver ordered stepping away from the bench that she had been working at. I walked, with some difficulty over to her to see a metallic framework made up of a series of vices on the edge of the bench. Just beyond it was a platform, about eight inches high and above that a very large, unlit candle.

"Undo his hands," the Sergeant instructed Josie. She quickly unfastened them, but as quickly the Sergeant and Carver took one wrist each and had it attached to poles at each end of the bench at about shoulder level. I was standing, as if crucified, with my genitals up against the bench – I could not move back because my wrists were held out too far at each side of me.

The Tube (containing my cock) was rested on the small platform and clipped into place. Tape that I took to be the new Super tape (looks like old fashioned Sellotape but could hold a man's weight and is virtually indestructible) attached the Tube to the platform so that I could not move.

I could not see the purpose of this contraption – the candle was only a few inches above the Tube, and I could see that it would drip just beyond the end of the Tube. But in my present state (cold-water small) it would have no effect on my two inch penis safely ensconced in the Tube.

"Now," explained Carver. "The Ordeal by Fire works in two ways – it is a Psychological re-programming Punishment. This candle is no ordinary candle – it burns very slowly and melts at a much higher temperature than conventional candles – so the wax is about 98°C – touching it is the same as touching a boiling kettle. In the same way that mice are trained to react certain stimuli so too will you be. You will be shown your own collection of pornographic material. If you are aroused by it you will suffer the pain of red hot wax.

"If the first wax," she continued, "Does not cause you to shrink and take no further interest further waxing will cause permanent damage so that you genitalia will no longer be usable."

Josie chimed it, "So you'll never be able to wank or fuck again."

Carver looked irritated at the interruption. "Thank you. All you have to do is remain in control and you will suffer nothing."

The lights dimmed and two television screens lit up. One (about eye level) showed a close up of the candle and the Tube – the other (in line with the end of my dick) was, as yet, a white screen.

"Light it," instructed the Sergeant, "Let's here this boy squeal."

Carver leaned over and lit the candle – I could feel the heat on my stomach – it felt like standing next to a ring on a gas cooker. The first dollop of wax splatted onto the board, it landed about an inch in front of the end of the Tube.

'This is easy,' I thought, 'all I have to do is think about blue skies and green hills and this will be a breeze.'

Not for the first time since I'd been arrested, I was wrong.

The second screen lit up. It showed a schoolroom and a fresh-faced girl who could have been under 18. She was wearing a blazer, tie, white shirt, pleated skirt and long white socks – the shirt was clearly at least two sizes too small for her voluptuous breasts. They had done their homework – they knew exactly which of my buttons to press.

I could not take my eyes off the screen.

She moved towards the screen and said, "Gosh, it's hot in here." She took off her blazer – the outline of her frilly bra beneath her shirt was perfectly visible – as were her straining nipples. With her forefinger she absent-mindedly touched her collar bone and then gradually dragged her finger over the top of her left breast as far as the nipple. Her finger ran round the large lump in her shirt and she closed her eyes in ecstasy.

I was suddenly aware of a constriction in my penis. With horror I realised that it was growing within the Tube. I realised that if I continued to get excited the hot wax would scald me – but the pictures were still going on...

The schoolgirl had started to slowly unbuttoned the shirt revealing her lacy bra and its swelling load of tits. Within a few seconds she had the shirt open and was massaging her breasts within the bra.

"You want to see more?" she spoke directly to the camera and appeared to be looking into my eyes. I licked my lips and nodded soundlessly. A quick glance at the Tube showed that my prick had not appeared at the end near the dripping wax – there was a good half inch between the end of the Tube and the small pile of wax. I felt safe.

The girl on screen had slid her hands inside the cups of her bra and was removing her breasts. They were milky white with a light pink aureoles the size of an old English penny. Her hand movements caused the tops of her breasts to shudder as she massaged herself – the tension in the Tube became greater, but, I thought, was still well within the bounds of safety.

Leaving her left breast out of her bra she slipped off the blazer and loosened her tie – once the knot was down to her third button she left it and then shrugged off her shirt and bra leaving only her tie dangling between her tits. Her hand then moved down to her blue pleated skirt and slowly lifted the hem so that it revealed her creamy thighs. As she reached her waist I saw her frilly white knickers – a thumb in each side and they were pulled down – but her skirt came with them. I could only hope that she would raise it again so that I could feast my eyes on her secret garden – would it be closely manicured or a tangle of thick pubic hair?

Her hands returned and lifter her skirt once more – now the end of her tie was all that hid her privates from view. She slowly rubbed her forefinger on the end of her tie as it lay over her cunt – she moved it up and down rhythmically and I found myself moving in the same way.

The camera closed up on her crotch, I could see that the end of her tie was getting damp and that she was au naturelle when it came to hirsuteness. Springs of black hair sprouted to either side of the tie – I found myself moving to one side to see around the tie when she began to slowly lift it revealing her shiny pink lips.

"Arggghh!" I screamed as the hot wax hit the end of my prick. It was like someone sticking a knife right in the helmet of my dick.

"Who's a naughty boy?" Josie admonished. "Remember the effects of one splash will only last a few days – two splashes will last weeks – and either three or four splashes will result in permanent damage."

That was enough – my interest in the girl on screen vanished immediately. I thought, 'There's nothing they can do to make that happen again.'

It took a few minutes for my eyes to stop watering and for me to regain my composure. My prick's retreat into the Tube had offered some relief from the immediate pain – but it still stung like hell.

As my eyes cleared I became aware of a warm feeling around my balls – a glance down showed that the Sergeant was standing behind me and had put his hand between my legs from where he was gently massaging my balls. Now, I'm not homophobic, but neither am I a great lover of homosexuals – but the feeling was pleasant. At the same time Carver stood on my right and was whispering in my ear:

"Just imagine sliding your long dick into my wet cunt. Think of burying your face between my tits and then sucking each of my nipples in turn. As they get hard you'd feel my warm juices surrounding your cock as it throbs deep inside my cunt..."

I didn't hear all of what she said because Josie had started in my left ear, "Did you enjoy last night? I did – I haven't brushed my teeth this morning and I can still taste your cum in my mouth. It was so warm and tangy – like thick seawater. Can you remember what my pussy tasted like as it engulfed your face? Remember the taste of my cunt's lips as you bit them..."

On the screen was a constantly changing array of photographs of breasts, nipples, penises, balls, and couples in varying degrees of copulation.

The effect of the hand, the voices and pictures was enough to set me off to wards the biggest hard-on I'd had it years. It was like swimming in sex. I could feel that I was about to cum as I'd never cum before when the voices stopped; the pictures disappeared; the hand was withdrawn; and, too late, I saw the giant globule of wax hit the end of my dick. If I hadn't cum at that moment I think I'd have been permanently damaged – luckily the creamy liquid doused the heat of the wax – but the point had been made and I withered once more.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear," said carver shaking her head. "have you seen what he's done?"

"Oh, tut, tut," said the Sergeant.

"We have been a naughty boy, haven't we?" asked Josie.

All three were looking at the puddle of cum amongst the hot wax.

"And at the last minute too," Carver shook her head.

"Well we all know what happens now, don't we?" enquired the Sergeant.

"What?" I demanded. "What are you going to do?"

"We're going to release you," explained Josie.

"Thank God," I let out an enormous sigh.

"But only after you've had that thing sorted out," Carver nodded towards my privates as the Sergeant put out the candle.

"S..sorted out?"

"We've got to make sure that there is no repetition of today's mess."

"We can't just let you go and have you wanking all over the place again," explained Josie.

"I..I won't. I promise."

"You won't be able to," Josie explained. "You'll have it in the Trap."

"Trap?"

"Like the Cage – but different in two major respects," explained the Sergeant.

"One," said Carver, "Is that there is no room for an erection – it's designed to prevent it."

"And two," Josie chimed in, "is that it is permanent. And I mean permanent."

The Sergeant walked to the corner of the room and brought out the Trap – carrying it like a cup containing the Holy sacrament. It was about three inches long and appeared to be made of chain and wire. With a black and green inner to it.

I was quickly unstrapped from the vice and my prick was pulled into the tube of the Trap. My balls were then belted into place and a chain from the end of the Trap was wrapped around the top of my left thigh pulling the contraption tight and effectively tying my prick to the top of my leg. 

"This will prevent it from growing and there is no way that you will be able to masturbate whilst wearing it," explained carver.

"Nor will anyone else be able to provide it with any kind of stimulation," Josie explained. "And if you try to undo this ball clamp, or any other part of the Trap, it sends message through to us."

"And next time, "Carver added, "It's.." she drew her finger across her throat, "...for the lot."

"You'll have to learn how to piss round corners," the Sergeant explained, "You've made you last use of an urinal."

"Youwon't even be able to sit like the rest of us," Carver added.

"It doesn't matter how much you fiddle with this – it won't come off."

"Right" said the Sergeant undoing my hands and offering me my shirt. "Unfortunately you left your trousers at home so you'll have to manage without them. Off you go."

With an unceremonious shove I found myself, once more, in the bright car park – this time wearing only a shirt which did not properly cover my heavily chained privates.

As I walked back to my flat, amidst the stares of passers-by, I couldn't help wondering how I was going to get out of this latter-day chastity belt.