PART ONE – The Third Date

   I met my future husband as a college freshman, but it was a while before we got together over the summer break before my sophomore year started. We weren't dating a week or two before he got his first spanking, which both surprised and pleased me. I think any woman that likes giving the usual "birthday swats" and such knows what I'm talking about here. Dating a new guy, and you're wondering how "it" is going to come "up". How do you work that one into conversation politely. First date, and you're walking back to the car after the movie theater. He asks what you should do next. Oh, hey. How about we go park somewhere remote, and I tie you to the seat with this piece of rope, and use a whip on your bare ass. Am I allowed to leave marks? I like a guy that lets me leave marks. Hmm. Something a hair more subtle perhaps.

   I mean, seriously. I'm going to be a professional woman with a great job. I'll work out of offices and I'm not being the talk of the town and having it all through work. I need to be taken seriously at work, and I feel I am. I'm not at all ashamed of smacking a boy's ass, but I'm not comfortable putting a billboard up about it either. I don't discuss the specifics of exactly what goes on in the bedroom in public. It just kind of happened, with my first junior high school boyfriend. After that first one though, how was I ever going to bring the subject up. That first one, just happened. God's little gift to me, that I knew I liked something.

   But how do you bring it up with the next boyfriend. I developed the habit of smacking their butt through their jeans as they walked past. Making little jokes, shaking a wooden spoon at them. Do I need to put you over my knee to get you to remember to take your shoes off. It takes a number of little jokes and innuendo, to get it brought up. Thank god for the jokes about birthday swats. At least once a year, any girl that wants to smack their boyfriend's butt has one day a year to make that awkward conversation happen, so it gets put on the table.

   Then, there's the matter of I'm a girl that smacks the boy's butt. I had a boyfriend once that things were going fine, but he made the jokes and innuendo to me. Hey, that's usually me doing that, so I recognized it right off. We had "the talk", and we both laughed and agreed that it would never work out. When we crossed paths a year or so later, we politely exchanged pleasantries. He asked me if I had found what I wanted, and I smiled and said yes and how about you. He smiled and said he had what he wanted now too. We swapped jokes about how to bring it up, and we both laughed and agreed that other than constant jokes, the birthday smacks were the best option.

   Then there's my guy. I mean, I plan on having a boyfriend turn into a fiance and eventually a husband. I'm not one of those career women that are going to put having a husband on hold, until I've already got my first wrinkles. I wanted to be young enough, that we had a solid connection and neither one of us was bringing any baggage into it. No ex husbands, no ex wives. No children from other partners. Young enough we had a real chance to make it. I feel lucky that my first boyfriend used to get his naked wet butt snapped with my wet towel, and it somehow became our thing. I feel even more lucky, that after a couple boyfriends over high school and college, I finally found one that made this awkward talk easy.

   I had gotten him to meet me at a party. I was making jokes, and swatting the seat of his jeans when he walked past me at the party. He was making jokes and innuendo too. The next time he walked past on his way back to our table, he stuck his butt out and joked I had forgot to smack him. Making small talk on our second date, I jokingly said he was a naughty boy, as both a compliment and a way to sneak in an innuendo. I bantered that naughty boys get into trouble eventually. He said that sounded like fun. Wow, I thought. First date? I smacked at his passing jeans. Then he stuck his butt out the next time, and reminded me I had forgotten to swat his seat. Second date, and table small talk led to me calling him a naughty boy, and him saying it sounded like fun to be in trouble.

   This can't be an accident. I was thrilled waiting for our next date. We liked each other and seemed to get along great. We both had similar ideas about work and home life plans. We decided together at my initial suggestion, that "the third time's a charm", and decided to make our third date, the night that we slept together. I joked we needed privacy, because my dates end up screaming my name. He smiled.

   "Then you can pick me up in your car next weekend. You can drive us anywhere you want. If you wanna drive us out far enough into the woods, that no one can hear me scream your name? Sounds like fun. Its our first time, and I want you to be comfortable. Drive me wherever you want. You like apricot brandy, right?"

   "That's my favorite."

   "I'll bring it. My treat. More practical than flowers, right?"

   "I can't drink flowers. Sounds good to me. Are you trying to get me drunk, to loosen me up?"

   "Hell yes. Look. I know how the normal thing is. The guy drives the girl out to the middle of nowhere. Whips out the bottle. He's hoping to get her drunk, so she cuts loose. That's not me. Now, do I want you to have a few drinks, and do whatever you feel like doing? Again, a hell yes. But… I don't want it to be creepy. I figured if you drove? I don't want you feeling trapped. I really like you."

   Wow. Two dates in, and he really reminded me of my first high school boyfriend. Just as macho as any of the other guys, but didn't act like the typical jerk. He opened doors for me, he took my hand sitting down or getting up. He was polite. He let me know he liked me, and he seemed to be letting me make the first move. My jokes and innuendo, were being met with a wink and a nod. Holy shit. How much was too much, on my part. I thought about it.

   He wanted me to be in my car, driving him. Park where I wanted to park him. So I'd be comfortable. I was being asked to make some decisions for us. I definitely thought I caught a vibe. He had asked permission and quite smoothly I might add, to bring the apricot brandy he saw me bring for myself to our first date, some party we met up at. He was making it easy for me. Just in case I wasn't imagining all this, I decided to have something in my trunk, if it seemed like it was going well.

   What though. My first boyfriend in high school, had always gotten his butt swatted with a wet towel. It was our naughty little secret we shared. The next boy, it had been a birthday swats joke that went over good. He asked what he got his birthday swats with. I joked about a wooden spoon, and he said to bring one with me when we met up for his birthday tryst. Wooden spoon boy, ended up with a second hairbrush episode another time, later on down our brief road. The third boyfriend, after high school just ended and college hadn't started yet, it had been a thick leather belt. I grew up in the country, and so did he. We both naturally wore jeans and boots, and we both sported leather cowboy belts with the typical big shiny buckle.

   We had met staying at a county fair, and each of us was staying with a different group. I had made a joke about taking him to the hay pile and teaching him a lesson he wouldn't forget. He asked me what that would entail, and I smiled and pointed to his thick, leather belt. When we met up late that night at the hay barn, he actually reminded me of my "promise". I told him I was just making a joke, and he said that was too bad, because it had sounded like fun. So, I undid that belt, pulled it off of him, and told him to let me know when he thought he had learned his lesson.

   That was my first one, that seemed to really be into it. The original wet towel boyfriend, got coaxed into it. Then it was okay. It wasn't like he asked for more towel snaps, I had to keep making up excuses and situations to get more snaps in. Snaps he agreed to, but still. Wooden spoon boy? Got a swat for every year of his birthday. He ended up getting a swat for every year of his birthday, twice. The hay bale leather belt guy though? That was a new one for me. He clearly enjoyed it, and seemed happy I had taken him up on it. Reminding me in case I forgot. After the first few smacks, he joked that he thought a farm girl could do better than that. Asking to be swatted harder, in some sort of easily understood code with a sly smile. When I told him to let me know when he had learned his lesson? He never did. I got to leave marks on his cheeks. So while I had done it before, that was sort of my first official spanking, somehow. You know, first official mark visible the next day.

   Yet, that was back then, and this guy? Is in the here and now. This seemed more like the belt guy. I decided having a little rope and a riding crop in my trunk was a good bet. If it happened and it seemed like it sure could, I was ready. If it didn't happen, it was no loss.

   I picked him up in my car like he suggested. For our third time's a charm date. He asked if I needed gas money, and I told him I was fine. He joked that if I needed more gas money to get more privacy, just let him know. Secret code translation? Hey, take me as far away as possible. Drinks and fooling around, parked out in the middle of nowhere went fine. We agreed we had all night, and there was no reason to rush into a quickie. It was happening, and we didn't have to force it. So we were making out and learning how to kiss each other, roaming our hands over the other's clothes. He asked when we would get to the screaming my name part, and what would cause a thing like that to happen.

   Here we go again, I thought. He just had to be testing the waters with innocent enough sounding jokes and innuendo, just like I had learned to do. He had me drive him wherever I wanted. So I'd be comfortable. He wasn't trying to get me drunk, I had to get my own drinks, and offer him dollops of the booze he had bought me.

   "You really want to know?"

   "Definitely. If you're loosened up enough to tell me. I'm waiting on you. Your car? Your rules. I want you to feel free to… take advantage of me, if you want to."

   Okay, that was too much, and just enough at the same time. He was looking for a girl he liked, to smack his butt. I was just sure of it, and I didn't think it was the apricot brandy talking. He wanted me to make the first move. I decided I should. We had all night.

   "Okay. Some girls give birthday swats, and some girls don't."

   "We've been cracking little jokes for three dates now. Please tell me you're the kind of girl that does birthday swats."

   I smiled.

   "I am."

   I smiled more, and had the beginnings of a blush going.

   "In fact, you could say? That I crack more than just jokes."

   "Sounds fun. Problem is, its not my birthday."

   "We could pretend its your birthday."

   "Why pretend. I joked that its your car, so its your rules. We have all night, right?"

   I smiled more, and took another big sip of the sweet brandy.

   "We do have all night. We can sleep in the car, if we even get any sleep. Its Friday night. If we have fun, we can have Saturday, too. Third time's a charm. I can keep you out here all weekend, and really take advantage of you. I got blankets in the trunk for us."

   "So, let me know what those car rules are. Maybe, something happens when rules get broken. Tell me the rules."

   Oh my. This was going better than I had ever dreamed of.

   "Rule number one. Its my car, its my radio. I don't like it, when the passenger touches my radio."

   "Oh. Okay. Are you serious about these car rules?"

   "I might be. If I had to tell you more than once, not to touch my radio? I guess I'd have to teach you a lesson. And by the way, did you notice I filled the tank up, not ten or twenty minutes before getting here? And I casually slipped in that we could sleep here and have more fun tomorrow, if we were both having fun? I was making sure I could keep the battery charged, so we had a radio. If you want taught a lesson, all you have to do is touch my radio."

   "Oh my. You sound very serious about the radio rule. I like serious girls. How do you teach naughty boys not to touch your radio, when they disobey your car rules."

   "I suppose there's different ways. But, if it happened too many times, and you weren't listening to me? You'd need taught a lesson."

   "Oh. And if I did it again, after the first lesson didn't work? What would happen then."

   I took another big drink, and smiled.

   "Obviously, I'd have to teach you more of a lesson, right?"

   "I might keep doing it. You'd have a real problem on your hands."

   "If you kept doing it, don't you think you would be the one with a problem? The problem wouldn't be on my hands, silly. The problem? Would be on your naked butt. I couldn't be any clearer than that. We're obviously past the making jokes phase. You want me to make the first move? I'm making it. Do you really want to know what the punishment would be?"

   "I do."

   "All right. I grew up on a farm. I actually own whips. In fact, I just might happen to have one of my whips with me. In case they touch my radio, and I need to teach them a lesson. Then, if they keep doing it? Well. The second time around, I use the whip harder, and give them more swats. If a third time it happens? That's really bad. I'd have to take that really serious. I'd probably have to tie them up, and give them a lot harder whipping, for a lot longer. Now then. I made the first move. You asked? I told you. Scared to feel a real whip?"

   "Sounds like I can get as little or as much punishment as I want."

   "First lesson? We're talking birthday swats. No marks. A gentle reminder not to touch my radio. Second lesson, though? You're asking for more. Harder swats, more swats. You would end up with some cute little red marks on your naked butt. Now, if you did it a third time? That means you're not learning your lesson. I'd be forced to get the rope out, and tie you up. Much harder swats, and obviously, a lot more of them. Because by that point, you're really asking for it."

   "Don't be such a cock tease. You'd have to have stuff to do it, wouldn't you?"

   I smiled at him and stared at him intently.

   "You know I lived on a farm. You know I have horses. Why wouldn't I have some rope and my riding crop with me."

   When he teased me I was kidding, I got out and went into the trunk. I was back in short order with several feet of soft cotton rope and my favorite riding crop. I laid them up on the dash, for him to see. I winked and put the radio on. He changed the station.

   "I told you its against the rules, to touch my radio. If you do it again? You're going to get your butt swatted."

   He smiled and changed the station back again.

   "Well? Let's see a naked butt. I told you, and you did it anyways."

   "Well, where do you want me."

   I knew this feeling well. I was being put in charge, to do what I wanted. I had the minimum experience under my belt, to do it confidently.

   "You knew the rules, and you decided to break them anyway. Get out of my car, and go put your hands on the hood of my car. Lean over some, and stay like that. I'll be out to deal with you when I'm ready."

   It was fun to sit in the car for a little while, before I picked up the riding crop off of the dash. I walked out, and showed it to him. I ran it over his body a few times, then showed it to him again, after I reminded him to keep his hands on the hood.

   "Ever had a real whip used on you before?"

   "Never."

   "Scared?"

   "I wonder what it will feel like."

   "Very soon, you won't have to wonder anymore. Drop your pants. Ten swats."

   He took his hands off of the hood to slide his jeans down off and expose his ass cheeks for me, then he put his hands back on the hood of the car.

   "I told you to keep your hands on the hood. You took them off. That's 10 more."

   "You told me to drop my jeans for you."

   "You could have asked me politely. You didn't. That's sass mouth. That's another 10. We're up to thirty now. You want more?"

   I slid behind him, and yanked his jeans down to where I wanted them.

   "Bend over more. You know what? Just lay on the hood. Keep your hands on that hood. And don't move. I'll tell you when we're done, and you're allowed to get up."

   He did everything I told him to, he clearly had been swatted before. I counted out his first ten, which were honestly what I would think of as the fun birthday swats everyone hears about. Then ten more, and finally the last ten. He listened, and stayed put. I got to rub the cheeks, and feel the slight warmth. These were fun birthday swats, there wouldn't be any marks. The slightest little blush patch back there. It was as if a tiny dab of light rouge had been rubbed over the cheeks.

   I finally pulled his jeans up for him and zipped them up, buttoned them and everything. Finally, I leaned to sit on the hood and told him he was done, and he was allowed up now. I'd be remiss and lying if I didn't admit that it was slightly easier to unpack him out of, than it was to repackage him back into, his boxers and jeans. That's to say that his package had grown larger while getting the swats.

   We had another drink or two each, and made out some more. Wow, I thought to myself. He was happy to get his butt smacked, and wasn't rushing me to put out. In the course of making out standing in front of the car, he was kissing my neck when he whispered "thank you" into my ear. Wow. Not only did I get exactly what I wanted, I was being thanked for it. This was looking like a better and better deal with each and every passing minute that went by.

   "You're welcome. How was your first taste of a real whip, by the way. Everything you hoped for?"

   I got another whispered thank you in my ear.

   "If you want more, just keep touching my radio. Its up to you if you want more."

   "I'm sure I will. We have all night, right?"

   "We do. We have as much time as we need. Hey, can I ask you something?"

   "Sure."

   "Curious. What did you get smacked with? You were hinting around at it, just like I was. No way its your first time, I don't think."

   "You? Are my second. High school girlfriend? She did the birthday swats. It was with a belt. Christmas swats. That sort of thing. It was a once in a while thing. I lucked into that first girl, then…"

   "You haven't dated since then?"

   "Dated, yes. Got birthday and Christmas swats again? Unfortunately, no."

   "Huh. Sounds like the girl brought the idea up."

   "She did. I told her it was fun, so then I got Christmas swats. It wasn't a regular thing."

   "Did you ask?"

   "Seemed like it was a gonna be a rare treat thing. I got the impression, it was just so she could say she had done it. You know, like that."

   "You didn't get it again, with the other dates?"

   "Hey. You're the first one that picked up on the jokes. I liked it, but… you can't go around asking everyone you meet for it. Reminded me of a girl that gives you a blowjob once or twice a year, then you're doing without six months at a time."

   "Well, I'm in the same boat. I lucked into my first one. The next time? The birthday swats thing happened. But like you, it was just a now and again thing. I had a hookup, camping at a county fair, its a farm thing. I made a joke, the guy made a joke back. Later on, he reminded me of the joke, so… he got some swats. What can I say. You make jokes, you wait to get jokes back. Hoping. Here we are."

   "Can I ask you about…"

   "Ask."

   "So, you always use the whip?"

   "Even though I own whips? They're tools for the farm. So believe it or not? No. This is actually the first time I got to use a whip on a boy's naked butt, so… thank you."

   "What were the others?"

   "First one. You know the wet towel snapping game? A wet towel, of all things. Then the birthday swats, was a wooden spoon. The county fair hookup, was his belt. Its always been one of those, whatever it was laying around handy kinda deals. The one time with the wooden spoon? Happened with a hairbrush a second time. This is the first time that I was fairly sure I was going to get lucky again, so… just in case I was right about the jokes… yeah, I tossed the whip in the trunk. You glad I did?"

   "I said thank you. So yeah, I'm happy. You like this, right?"

   "I thought that was kind of obvious, at this point."

   "You mean, I don't have to wait six months, like before."

   "If you want it six minutes from now? That's fine. Yeah, I like it."

   "What I mean is, you seem like you actually like it. The other girl? I think it was just for attention, so she could say she did it a few times."

   I smiled.

   "I like smacking a boy's naked butt, as long as I like the boy. And yes, so far? I like you. Now, how about you. You sound like you like it, too."

   "Thank you."

   "You're welcome. Anytime you want some? Just ask. How was your first taste of a real whip."

   "I thought it would be more… I mean, its a whip."

   "Ha. You thought it would hurt more, is that it?"

   "Well, yeah."

   "It can. I have no idea what you were expecting. I don't want to scare you off. If you want it, and it sounds like you do, in fact, want it. Touch my radio again, as soon as you get brave. I'll do it again, and I'll do it a little harder."

   "Can I ask you another question."

   I hugged him to me, and told him he didn't have to keep asking permission to ask me every question. Just ask.

   "I just don't want to bug you, or screw this up."

   "How are you going to screw this up. I like doing it, and its not something I come across every day. You like having it done, apparently. And you've found it again. Don't worry about that. So just ask."

   "What's the rope for?"

   "Well. The whip, is in case a butt needs smacked. Yours, for instance. What do you think the rope is for. You use rope, to tie things up. On a farm, if something is moving around, and it should be staying still? You tie it up, and you tie it down. I think I know what you mean, though. The rope, is with the whip. If… how do I put this. If you touch my radio again, you're asking for more. If you touch my radio after that second one? You want more again. At some point, you do realize, that you won't sit still for it, and… you suddenly become… a thing, that needs tied down. To hold it… still. Now, does that answer your question? I'm assuming you're starting to get the picture."

   "Yes."

   "You got any more questions?"

   "Yeah. You won't get mad…"

   "I will not get mad. If I can't answer the question, or I don't want to answer the question? I'll tell you."

   "You actually tie boys up?"

   "Oh. Actually, just one guy, and it was only one time. You sure are full of questions tonight. I'll bite. Are you asking to be tied up? I've only done it once. If you ask me, it will make it twice."

   "You just seem so… confident about it."

   I laughed.

   "I'm no expert, if that's what you mean. Its just that once I make the jokes, and the jokes come back… there comes a point its obvious. That's where shy ends. Want me to give you some free advice on this?"

   "Okay."

   "This is our little secret. You like it? Great. Ask and you shall receive. Not a problem, trust me. But its a secret. You brag to just one buddy, you tell a single soul about it? I'll never speak to you again, I swear to god. This isn't like touching my radio. We both know that's a fun game to play, because we both know how the game will end. Read my lips. You tell anyone, ever, about our little secret? You'll be out there looking again. Do girls like me grow on trees?"

   "No. I… can't believe my good luck finding you. This sounds like Christmas every day."

   "Well, thank you. But don't ever forget, not for one second. I'm not in college, because I was trying to find a way to waste four years of my life. I want a career. I'm going to get one. I will not be the girl, that everyone points at, and giggles. Promise me."

   "I promise."

   "All right. I'm not mad, you just need to understand. That's maybe the only real rule there is right now. Now then… you said its like Christmas, huh. You liked it?"

   "Yes. Thank you."

   "You, are welcome. Now, just so you know its a two way street. Its like Christmas for me, too. And, how would you like it, if I told people. Then they pointed at you and giggled. Would you like that?"

   "No. Please, don't tell."

   He blushed. He liked it, but he was shy about asking, or having the wrong person know. I know the feeling.

   "Okay. I just wanted to get that straight. Just don't slip up, or you'll never go out with me ever again."

   "I promise."

   It didn't take him long to touch the radio again. I told him he knew that was against the rules, and he did it again anyways, after he knew what would happen. So, he was going to have to get it harder. It was like playing a drinking game. You rolled dice, but you already know the result of the game. You drink a few more drinks. Touching the radio was the same game. You knew how it ended when you played the game.

   No one had made it this fun for me before though. He pretended to be nervous, and tried to get out of it. He tried kissing me and saying he was sorry. It was fun for me to act mad, and demand to hold him accountable. I told him it had to be harder, so he learned his lesson. I whispered in his ear, that the whip doesn't really hurt much for fun birthday swats, but since that didn't work? It was going to hurt a little more. I made him tell me he understood that. Then I told him he would get twenty.

   I told him he knew where to go, and what to do. I'd be out when I was ready, and he was to wait for me. When I got out, I not only had the riding crop again, I also tossed the rope up on the hood of the car in front of him. He asked what it was for.

   "This is the second time. The first time? Light. This is going to be… medium. We'll see if you still wanna touch my radio again. If I need to keep you still? The rope is right there."

   I gave him ten medium. Then I asked him if he was okay with it. He said yes, so I gave him the last ten. I didn't even have to tell him to stay this time, he was waiting for me to tell him he could get up now.

   "Stay. We're not finished yet, until I say we're finished. Did it hurt more? Tell me the truth."

   He nodded.

   "I know. You gonna be good, and stay there, just like that?"

   He nodded again.

   I already had his jeans down to his knees again, and just like before, his boxers with them. I reached around, and grabbed him to see how he was doing in front. My hand found a perfect indication, that things were fine. I whispered in his ear.

   "Stay. Don't move at all."

   I kissed and bit his neck, and kept telling him to quit moving, or I'd stop. I worked him with my hand, and it didn't take that long before he spilled out. I kept telling him to stay and not move. He did.

   "Are you curious, what you'd be in for. If you touch my radio a third time. Hey. Third time's a charm, right. You don't have to, but, if you were to ask me nice… I could give you five hard ones. So you know what could happen, next time. Now. Ask me nice."

   He stayed in his position, and asked me if I would. I told him to keep asking, until I told him to quit. He didn't stop. He ended up pleading, and I finally told him to stop asking.

   "Hands stay on that hood. Or else. You can impress me right now, by taking five hard ones, and not being a big baby about it. You wanna impress me, don't you?"

   He nodded. I told him I wanted to hear him count the five off. I had never done that, but my mind drifted back to the cement shed, my first one of these. He didn't count them off, but here and there he spit out the number. I just decided to hear a count of all five, and he shook his head yes.

   For all the "experience" and "confidence" he thought I seemed to have doing it, I really didn't feel like any kind of expert at this. But somehow, the way he sort of looked up to me at this, asked all the questions… it made me feel more confident. It made me feel more experienced. The truth was, that I had never once smacked a guy's naked butt with my riding crop, nor any other real whip. This was a first for me, too. Those first light smacks, were nothing. I had no idea how light was too light, how hard was too hard. I was gauging his reaction, and finding out as I went along. If I somehow seemed to radiate confidence to him, well that felt good too. This was, as ever, not only fun. It was intoxicating and it lured me in. I was already hooked, and he was getting hooked too.

   "Remember to count. If you screw the count up? We start over again. And remember to keep those hands on the hood. Stay still, or…"

   I pointed at the rope.

   I hauled off and lit him up with the first one. Not nearly as hard as I possibly could, but definitely what I was going to classify as hard. I heard my one come out of his mouth. I went for number two, and he repeated it. By the time I got to three, there was a little bit of moving around, and some heavier breathing I could hear. I did four a hair harder, and got more movement. When I went for five, I decided it was the last one, might as well haul off and see what one would be like, if I really lit him up.

   I got an "ow", and I got pronounced wiggling around. The hand came up, barely off the hood before he stuck it back down. I whispered and laughed in his ear.

   "Oh. I saw that hand come off the hood. That's five more. Hard ones like these were. And you know what? You were told to stay still, and there's way too much dancing around. That? Is another five. And in case you think I didn't hear you not count that last one when you said ow instead? That's another five. So where are we at now, huh? You have a naked ass hanging out at me. I have a whip in my hand, and I know how to use it. And you? Owe me fifteen hard ones, little boy. Now you tell me, right now. Do you still like the whip? Because it can hurt when I really give it to you, doesn't it. Admit it."

   He tried nodding his head yes. I kept whispering in his ear.

   "I asked you a question. You didn't answer me, you moved your head. That's another five hard ones. You now owe me twenty hard ones. And just so you know? They can still get harder. I've been experimenting. Light, medium and now hard. There's still one left. Harder than hard? Or, I guess as hard as I possibly can. And I just might. I haven't decided yet. Who knows. So, if that actually hurt? I want to hear you admit it to me. Words, not wiggling your head. Does it actually hurt, or not."

   "I admit it. It… hurts."

   "Oh yeah. It can definitely hurt. Now tell me the truth. Do you still like the whip, even though it hurts? Speak words, or it'll be 25. Do… you… still… like it?"

   "Yes. I like it."

   "Now tell me the truth. Do you really think you can take twenty hard ones like that? Without moving. Tell me the truth."

   "I could try. I don't really know."

   "Shh. Maybe, if you ask me nicely? Very nicely. Beg a little. Maybe, I could postpone the hard twenty you owe me. Oh, I'm still going to collect them, there's no getting out of that. But… we can postpone them. If you beg me nice. Start begging. I'll tell you when to stop. And don't even think about moving, or it goes to 25. You are so lucky your hands stayed put, do you know that? Tied up right now. Tight. Having to take 25 of these hard ones? I think we might be moving into me seeing a few tears. Now start begging. Don't move a muscle, don't stop until you're told to. Or else. Beg now."

   He begged to hold off on the 20, and he begged not to go to 25. I finally told him he could quit. I whispered in the ear some more.

   "Okay. We'll wait. You still get them, but later. When I feel like it. Is that clear?"

   "Yes."

   "All right. We're not done, but we're done for right now. Turn around. I want to see something."

   He turned around, and I checked if he seemed to really like it or not. Oh, he liked it just fine. I had a winner.

   "You do like it. That thing doesn't lie. Here's what you're gonna do, to postpone the rest of what you owe me. I'm going to bend over the hood of my car, and I want you to fuck my soaking wet pussy, and I mean you fuck it like you mean it. You don't do it hard and fast enough? I'll get bored and decide to collect my 20 hard ones right now. By the time I get my jeans down and bent over? You have a couple seconds to start giving it to me like you mean it. Don't stop, don't think. Just do it. I expect you to hold me down, and give it to me good. I'd say, don't let me down? But I guess I should say… don't let me up."

   I quickly undid my belt and jeans and slid them down with my panties to my knees or so, and bent right over the hood of my car. He took me at my word, and the next several minutes were wonderful. I hadn't been fucked good in a while, and a fast hard quickie was just what the doctor ordered. I had told him to hold me down and give it to me, so I started trying to move around to see if he'd follow my instructions. He finally held me down forcibly by the neck, my cheek pressed firmly into my car, his hard wet cock firmly in and out of my soaking wet hole. When he finished several minutes later, I had a silly smile on my face and thanked him.

   "Thanks. I've been waiting for that."

   "Thank you. Is… that how you like it then."

   "I sure did this time. That was great. I already like you, but. You know. Now? I like you a little bit more."

   We got our pants up, and ended up back in the car. Talking. A few more sips of brandy. I would grab him and kiss him now and then.

   "I, uh. I didn't exactly know what you wanted, for that."

   "Why. What did you think I would want."

   "Oh. You just seem so… I didn't know what you wanted, I guess."

   "Okay. What would you have bet on, if I didn't tell you."

   "Well, you have this whole thing. Confident. Take charge. You don't have any problems telling me what you want and what to do. I kinda figured, you were gonna… I don't know what. I was kinda ready for whatever you were gonna do."

   "Hmm. Explain it. I'm curious now."

   "Thought you were going to order me around, and tell me what to do."

   "Oh. I tell a guy what I want, that way. But I never ordered a guy around in bed. Is that what you're used to, or that's what you like?"

   "After what you've done to me already? I was ready to get… you know. Your whip in your hand, telling me what to do."

   "We can try that. Be something new for me, too. Look. Just because I smack you with a whip for fun, you don't have to… how do I put this. If I have my whip in my hand? Its obvious I'll be giving you orders, right?"

   "I can see that. Yeah."

   "Right. When the whip's not in my hand. When I'm not… ordering you around, doing that? Things are… normal. If I want it softer and longer? I'll say something. In case you haven't noticed, once the ice is broke? I'm not shy about it. Once you take away the fun thing, that we both like? I'm still a normal girl, okay."

   "I think you're wonderful."

   "Thanks. Look, don't worry about stuff."

   "The only thing I'm worried about? Is owing you what I owe you."

   "Oh. Still thinking about that, huh?"

   "How could I forget."

   "You seem like you like it."

   "Oh. I do. Look, its like this. Imagine a girl that gives you a blowjob. Its your first one. You really like it. Then? It doesn't happen again. Okay, it happens on birthday and Christmas. Twice a year. That's how it was for me. Finding you is… wow. One time, I got it twice in one year. Then? Nothing. Hard to find it. Then there's you. Suddenly? Twice in one night. You're sitting there, smiling, telling me I have a third one coming. In one night, I'm getting it more times than I ever got it in my whole life. I'm… wow."

   "Wanna know a secret? Might make you feel better, I think."

   "Sure."

   "How wet was I, when you finally gave it to me. Tell me the truth. Don't be shy about it."

   "It… right in. I'm not making fun of you, I'm just trying to say…"

   "Say it. How wet was I. Tell the truth."

   "You were so wet? I could hear every stroke. Sch-lack, sch-lack, sch-lack. You got the front of me all wet."

   "When I get to… do what we did twice? Yeah. It gets me hot, it gets me wet. When you asked for the second time, harder? Even hotter. You're giving me what I want, that I have trouble finding too. You… don't have to kiss my ass, to keep me. When I finally… collect? I'm going to be even more turned on. If I like something, I try to enjoy it. If you like me, and you like what we do? Keep enjoying it."

   "I will. I'm just a little nervous."

   "About what?"

   "If you meant what you said…"

   "Oh. That. I'm not unreasonable. I'll make you a deal."

   "What."

   "The 20 hard ones you owe me. I postponed it. If you're nervous, or scared? Just don't touch the radio."

   "I'm nervous. Or a little scared. Sure. But… I'm looking forward to it, too."

   "I'm pretty sure, you can't sit still for 20 of those hard ones. You'll need tied up. To keep you still. But, here's the thing."

   "Yeah."

   "You already owe me 20 hard ones. If you touch the radio again? You know what happens. We did light, we did medium. I even gave you a couple hard ones, so you'd know what to expect. But, if you touch the radio again, knowing what comes next… you already owe me the 20. The radio? Will be 20 more. So, make sure you understand that touching the radio gets you 40 hard ones. And yeah, I'm pretty sure you'll need tied up, or you won't be able to sit still for that."

   "Okay. Now I'm pretty sure, I just went from nervous? To scared."

   "Hmm. Don't do it then. Or, wait until you get the nerve up. Wait a little while. Have a few drinks. We have all night, and more. You're really scared, huh?"

   "Well, yeah. I mean, I like it. I do. I just think… you know… I might…"

   "You might what?"

   "You gonna make me say it? I'm… embarrassed."

   "Don't be. Say it."

   "What if I cry."

   "Then I see some tears. Its fine. This is our secret. No one else will know. That'll make me wet. You'll be making me very, very happy if you let me do it. Tears are okay. Don't be scared."

   "Will it make you hot, if you make me cry."

   "What do you think…"

   "That's what I figured. So. Is there anything else you like?"

   "Like…"

   "You want your earlobes nibbled on. You like having your wrist licked. You want a back rub. Whatever. Tell me what you want, or I don't know."

   "Hmm. You're very sweet, you know that? I know I want licked, before we're done. I haven't had that, in forever. And… you already know how wet I get when I bend you over. If you finally get the nerve up, to take your 40? I'm gonna be soaked, I'm really sure. I would love to get licked afterwards, if you were looking for ideas. That sounds kinda normal though, I guess. I mean, what girl doesn't want licked, right? Like asking a guy if he wants a blowjob. Its a given. Um… I would like… I know. A massage. A back rub, a shoulder rub. A leg rub, an arm rub. I wanna lay there, for a long time… and just get a full body massage. Over and over. That? Would be heaven."

   "You want licked, after you get hot and bothered… and a long body massage."

   "Yep. What about you? Something you want, that you don't normally get? Other than what you're already getting. Run it by me. You never know."

   "The blowjob sounded nice."

   "You're getting one, sooner or later, I promise. That's not a special request. Something special? Something you normally wouldn't get, something you don't know how to ask for. Just ask. Worst I can do is say no."

   "Well. I wouldn't wanna make you mad. I might get tied up, and get 200 super hard ones."

   "Its not like that. Worst I would do, is say no. Look. I wouldn't lie about that. If I say you'll get 20? You get 20. If I say you'll get 40, tied? You get 40, tied. Don't go thinking that you said or did the wrong thing, and once you're tied up, you get 200. Why would I do that. I'd never have my fun anymore."

   "What about… your butt."

   "What about my butt."

   "Did you ever…"

   "Oh. Bending me over for a quickie all soaking wet, got you thinking about stuff, huh? I never gave that up before, no."

   "Anyone ever ask you for that?"

   "Hmm. No. You're the first. I'm aware guys ask for that, the girls talk about it. I know it happens. Some girls do, some girls don't."

   "Which one are you then."

   "I… don't know. I assume you got it before then. I'll have to ask you how it went."

   "No. I never got that. Just heard about it. You said to ask, so I asked."

   "No. Its fine to ask. I… honestly don't know."

   "Are you nervous to try? Or scared."

   I laughed.

   "How about you. Ever have a girl stick their finger up there? I never did that either, but I know it happens. I've heard girls say guys love it."

   "I've never heard another guy say that."

   "Well… have you ever heard a guy admit he likes to get a whip put across his ass?"

   "No. Can't say I have."

   "But… you know its going on. I mean, there's companies selling all these toys. Guys do it. Tell you what. I'll make you a deal. I can be fair."

   "All your deals, end up with me getting your whip."

   "Not this one. Hear me out. If you get your nerve up, to touch the radio again? I get my 40. Tied. I think I'll get my tears. That's you being very sweet to me. Its our dirty little secret. I can't wait to have my fun… collecting that. I'm gonna want licked, and you already know how soaked I'm gonna be. I want a serious licking. A long one. You're still tied up. You'll get a swat here and there. You did say you thought I was going to order you around, maybe that's the kind of thing you were expecting? I never did it like that before. Sounds fun to try. Then… when you finally get untied and let go? I want a very long, full body massage. Over and over. It will take a while. I'll tell you what to do, I'll tell you when you can stop. My licking, and my body massage? It will take forever. But… that? Will earn you… I'll try it."

   "Bent over the hood of the car again?"

   "Let me ask you a question. What was your first taste of my whip like. You never felt a whip before. Did I give you what you now know hard feels like? Or… did you get fun birthday swats, to see how you did. Tell me."

   "You… were gentle. The first time."

   "Yeah. I was. Very gentle. Then? You had to volunteer for medium. I added the five hard ones? Just so you knew what you would be getting into, if you agreed to a third one. Now. Using that as your guide, what do you think should be your approach, to bending me over the first time that way, hmm?"

   "Well…"

   "Admit it. If I wanted to, I could have sweet talked you right into being all tied up, and went and gave you as many hard ones as I felt like. Made you cry. Laughed at you crying, and gave you more. As long as I felt like it, too. Look around you. Out in the middle of nowhere. You would have found yourself all tied up, thinking you were gonna get a few little love pats. Then? A real whipping. As hard as I can. As long as I felt like it. Big, real tears. Keep you screaming and crying, as long as I felt like it. No one will hear. No one will come and save you. It could take hours. And what would you do when I let you go. You'd be too ashamed to go tell anyone. Let alone try to get me in trouble. Admit it. If I wanted to? I could have done that to you. Right? Say it."

   "You could have."

   "But I didn't, did I? No. I gave you sweet little love taps. Asked you if you wanted to try more. So. How do you think, you should go about breaking me in, seeing how that goes, hmm? You tell me."

   "Gentle… love taps, basically."

   "Yeah. Now, if you do it. Really sweet, really slow and gentle. Isn't that your best chance, to have a realistic way to even think about getting it again? We'll see how it goes. Maybe… the next time could be… medium. We'll see. You got to see. If you didn't want medium? You didn't have to."

   "You never did it before?"

   "No."

   "I never did either. But… I'm pretty sure, that's what you need lube for."

   "Oh. All right, there's your plan. You know what I want, then you earn… a trial version of that. We can go buy some… lube… tomorrow. They sell it everywhere. And remember, you still have a blowjob coming. Do we have a deal?"

   "We have a deal. Uh… do you want to know something?"

   "What."

   "Put your hand on my…"

   I felt him, through his jeans.

   "What did that? We're just sitting here talking. What the hell made that."

   "It started when you were making your point."

   "Oh. Describing butt sex, its your thing you wanna try. Gotcha."

   "No. When you were… describing what you could have done to me? How it could have been, if you weren't being nice to make me like it."

   "That… you want that?"

   He was already blushing, and he blushed deep red.

   "I think, I'm pretty sure… it was just. Really hot talk."

   "Oh. Someone, likes to be told a rough, naughty bedtime story. Okay, that's fine. One of these days, I'll have to remember to talk dirty in your ear. I'll tell you that story again, see if it makes you just as hard. That? Will be useful some night, I'm sure. You know, we both think we can't get another one up… then the naughty talk might get that last one in. Thank you, for sharing that with me. That? Was very sweet of you. See? You're sharing with me. What we do? Its our dirty little secret."

   "As long as we're sharing."

   "Yes."

   "I like what you do. To me."

   "Hold on. Just say it. Get it over with. Say what you really meant. Just admit it, and tell me. Say… I like when you whip me. We're alone."

   "Okay…"

   And he blushed the deepest red, which I found so shy and sweet.

   "I like… when you whip me…"

   "Come on. One more time."

   "I like, when you whip me."

   "Third… time… is… the charm. One more."

   He said it the third time, firmly. I liked hearing it.

   "I like when you whip me."

   "Now. Doesn't that feel better? Its our secret, no one will know, but… what are we going to do, fool each other by calling it something else? Thank you for that, by the way. I liked hearing it. Maybe, I'll make you say it in my ear, while we fuck."

   "All right, but as I was saying. I like when you whip me, but… when you, do the rough talk, order me around? I never had a girl talk dirty like that. It makes it twice as hot, I think."

   "Rough, dirty talk is good. I'll remember that. Get you all hot and bothered first."

   Wasn't that much later, I found him looking over at me, though we were drifting back into much more normal small talk and jokes. Like a normal couple parked for the night. I started noticing, that his eyes were on me, when he thought I wasn't noticing. I finally caught him, and smiled to let him know it was fine to look at me.

   "What are you looking at?"

   "Sorry. You."

   "You don't have to apologize for looking at me, dear. You're my boyfriend, aren't you?"

   "Oh. Sure. I mean, this is our third date. I would have said we were dating."

   "Oh. So, I'm not your girlfriend, then."

   "I didn't say that."

   "You said we were dating. That you wouldn't have said, I was your girlfriend."

   "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… just, sorry. Can I take it back?"

   I smiled to let him know I was having fun with him.

   "I was kinda just teasing you. But since you bring it up."

   "What."

   "Well. This started, because I caught you checking me out. You asked me out, to meet you at the party. I liked you. I had fun with you. It was kinda sweet, watching you get the nerve up to ask me out on a date that wasn't just… hey, meet me at the party, babe. And I didn't give you a hard time, did I? I said yes as soon as you started asking me out. Now. The second date went so well… I decided I wanted to have a third date. Third time's a charm, remember?"

   "Yes, it is."

   "Now, I just caught you checking me out. Is, it all right? Do you like what you see. I assumed, you liked the look of me, and that's why you asked me out, then on a real date. Then you agreed to this third one. I liked you, and we had to sleep together sooner or later, so. To tell you the truth, there was another girl at the party, who I thought was giving you the eye. I'm glad you came to meet me there, and I beat her to the punch. Now. Here we are. So, when I ask what you're looking at, I don't mind you looking. Do you… like what you see?"

   "Yes. I think you're beautiful."

   "Thank you. I try to be realistic. I wasn't exactly raised on princess cartoons. I grew up on a farm. I didn't exactly grow up doing tea parties. And… like I said, I'm realistic. I don't think I'm ugly, but… am I ever going to be asked to be a supermodel? I'm not that kind of girl. I grew up on a farm, playing with mostly boys. I played sports. I don't have a complex about it, but, I don't think I'll ever be nominated to be the homecoming queen at our university. Boys talk to me, they always did. I'm pretty sure some guys don't like tall, strong girls like me. Us girls that played sports? A lot of us are a little taller, a little stronger. We know what we get called."

   "What? Gorgeous, right."

   "Look. I played soccer. It was a big school, we were quad A. The bigger the school, the more tall, strong girls the coaches have to pick from. We know what we're called. You can say it. It doesn't bother me."

   "Okay. You're tall, and strong…"

   "I know what I get called behind my back. I'm an amazon. Too tall for a girl, too strong for a girl. Some guys don't like it. Little skinny girly girls hate it. When I played soccer, in quad A division? Girls like me, run those skinny girls over, like a freight train. Even tall skinny girls? Don't like it if I give them the eye. I get called things like amazon, behind my back. When a girl plays enough sports? We can't be fat. We're no different than the guys that way. Lard asses get burned and can't keep up. I assumed you like the way I look, or you wouldn't have asked me out. Twice. Now, three times."

   "I like the way you look, very much. I was… just… checking you out."

   "In sports, we can't do anything about being tall, big boned, and muscular. Its why they want us to mow down girly girls on the field. But… off the field? Sports girls worry about… girl things too. Mainly, we worry about our face, our hair, maybe our nails and our skin. We don't usually go for all the outfits and the jewelry. You'll see me in jeans, T shirts, and in the winter? Work boots, for the love of god. Before I graduate college, I need to learn how to do… office clothes, wear heels, oh god, I dread wearing a dress. Fucking makeup. I know some basics, but… I don't get painted up like a hooker like you see girls do to go out. Just not my thing. Now. If you told me you found my face, and my hair… pretty? I'll blush."

   "I find your hair, and your face. Not just pretty. I said gorgeous, I meant gorgeous. You, are every bit as… pretty, as some little girly girl, that paints herself up like a hooker, and god help me, they dress like a hooker too. I would pick you, over them."

   "Hmm. Maybe I don't act like a girl often enough. But… thank you. Are, you just trying to be sweet? Its working. If you mean it. I kinda thought, you were looking at my legs."

   "Those too. I like tall girls. I like strong girls. I like tall, strong girls more."

   "I keep forgetting, you really haven't… seen me yet."

   "What do you mean?"

   "I don't wear little dresses and hooker clothes. I don't wear a bra for a shirt to class. You only see me in jeans and T shirts. You haven't really seen my body yet."

   "Its fair. You haven't seen mine yet, have you."

   "I will. When I figured you were looking at my legs. I… if people never saw me in anything but jeans? They might think I'm just a hair chubby. I guess that's how I look in jeans. I have big legs. I keep forgetting. You've only seen me from the small of my back, to the tops of my knees. From behind. In the dark. Are… you curious, what I'm going to look like?"

   "When I see it, I see it. I already think you're gorgeous. I still can't believe you…"

   "What. Wanna have dirty sex with you? I don't sleep around. Ask around. See how many guys you can find that have dated me at our college, then out of them? You come and ask me, I'll tell you which ones didn't get anything, but some kisses and nothing else. Which is most of them. Now then. I guess its time. Do you wanna see what I look like? Girls talk, you know. I happen to know, that you have asked out, no less than 2 other girls on my soccer team, and let's see… we all know each other… at least one volleyball player, and… was it one, or two different basketball girls. I'm guessing there were others."

   "Wow. Have you been stalking me? That wasn't last week or anything."

   "If a girl likes a guy, she asks around about him. I sat next to you in class, because I was trying to make myself… available. I already asked about the guy I liked in the class we had. Which was you. Now, maybe you hit on other kinds of girls too, but… you seem to have a type, based on the girls you asked out. Every one of those girls? I know them. They all play sports. They're all first string, by the way. And, every one of the ones I mentioned. Tall and kind of muscular. I was kinda hoping, I was your type. And, I'm well aware, there's two kinds of female sports girls. Some of us have… girl hair, and girl faces. Some of them? Aren't real cute. I think, that you like tall, strong girls. With some hair and a face. I bet you like tomboys."

   "I do."

   "You… have a thing, for tall, strong girls?"

   He blushed completely red… and he looked away, embarrassed his face was hot. I tugged his chin and turned it to look at me.

   "Don't be ashamed. Do you have a thing for tomboys. If we have a little hair, a little face, you're on it, aren't you? Oh… look at you just blushing up a storm. Don't you look away, you let me see that blushing face. You? Are cute when you blush. I like making you blush. I? Am going to do everything I can, to keep making you blush. Wait till later. How bad are you going to blush, when I tie you up. You know you're going to get a hard whipping, don't you. Yeah, you do. Then I'm going to have you do what I want. You just blush all you want. Now then. I asked you more than once. Do you want to see me? I'll show you."

   "I would like very much, to see you."

   "All of me?"

   "Yes. Please."

   "All right. Give me a minute. I guess I have to show you, my… chubby legs sometime. Let's see if your big girl is fat or not."

   I got out of the car, and went to the trunk. I got a blanket out, and walked in front of the car. I looked around, I don't think anyone else was around for miles. I grew up on a farm. I didn't smell any fires. I could hear the occasional, normal animal noises. Which go away or stop and start when people are lurking. I had chosen this spot deliberately. I wanted complete, remote privacy. For obvious reasons, that only a girl with a whip and some rope in her trunk for date night would prefer.

   I stepped back from the front of the car a dozen steps, and spread out the blanket. I ran back and told him to get out, and stand next to the driver's door with the window rolled down. I handed him a flashlight.

   "Now. I'm going to blindfold you. You? Will wait, until I tell you to take the blindfold off. Then, you're allowed to turn the flashlight on. Check me out, all you want. I'll even put on a little show for you. You want me to turn around, bend over. Tell me to lay on the blanket, then tell me what to do. Here. Take my cellphone. You? Are allowed to take all the pictures you want. On my phone, not yours. Sounds like fun?"

   "I, have never had such a thing before."

   "Have you ever had a girl put a whip across your ass before?"

   "Well, no. That? Was a first."

   "You might as well see what you would be getting. Because I'm not your girlfriend or anything. Just some girl you dated three times…"

   He started to say something, probably another apology. I clamped my hand over his mouth.

   "Shut up."

   Then I blindfolded him with one of the bandannas on the rear view mirror, and told him to wait, after putting my cell phone in one hand and the flashlight in the other.

   After a while, I told him to take the blindfold off.

   I was standing on the blanket. I had thrown every stitch of clothes onto the hood of the car. I was completely naked for him.

   "You're allowed to turn the flashlight on. That's what I gave it to you for, you know."

   He clicked the light on.

   "Wow."

   "Hmm. I'm that fat, huh? I know, I got these chubby legs. Go on. Tell me what a porker I am. I know I'm a big girl."

   "Holy… shit."

   "What."

   "What, the ever loving fuck…"

   "Gee. I know I'm bad, but am I that bad? I can at least get a pity fuck, right?"

   "You… do not have a scrap of fat on you. Anywhere. Wow. You look like…"

   "What do I look like? Tell me. Walk over. You? Get a little peep show. Tell me how to stand. Pose me. Our secret. Want me in some dirty pose? Talk dirty. Tell me how you want me. Snap pictures. We fuck. You're gonna see all of me anyways. See what you're getting. Maybe you don't like it."

   "Oh, I like it."

   "So. What do I look like. You stopped, before you said it. Say it, whatever it was. Or you risk getting more hard smacks when I collect. You? Are at 40. Hard. Tied. Probably gonna cry. I'm gonna count to three, and every time you hear the word three, its gonna be another 10. I ain't kidding. You better talk and tell me what you were just about to say. And don't you dare change it. I think you changed it? I'll give you lots more. Say it. One… two… thr---"

   "All right. You look like, I was gonna say… you remind me of the girls in the Olympics."

   "Hmm. Thank you. But I hate to tell you?"

   "Yeah…"

   "I started to say three. You were too late. That 40? Just turned to 50."

   "Right now? I don't care… how long do I get to… look?"

   "As long as you want. You do realize, you just said, its okay that I get 50, instead of 40, right? I think you might cry for me. And I'm gonna just tell you, the more you cry? The hotter its gonna make it for me, so…"

   "I never saw you… play. I don't go to sports."

   "How do you check out all the tall, strong girls you've been hitting on then? We figured you watch the girl's sports. You wouldn't be the only guy that comes just to look at the girls sweating. Some guys like it."

   "I think I might have to start. I wanna see you run some girls over. You, are just…"

   "Finish it, little boy. I'm counting. One… two… thr---"

   "A big girl."

   "You just hit 60. If you don't start finishing your sentences quicker? You, are going to have a very serious problem coming your way, quite soon."

   "I don't care. I can't believe this."

   "That bad, huh?"

   "Not bad. You, are gorgeous. I can't believe your… body. Your… muscles, have muscles."

   "We go to a big school. I play girl's soccer. I start, since my first freshman game. I came from a quad A high school and we never took states, but, my team did end up in the finals every year."

   "Wow. I'm allowed to… just watch?"

   "As long as you want."

   "All night works for me…"

   "What do you wanna see? You can come closer. I won't bite. Well, maybe just a little. But you'll like it. Come on… closer… closer… now. What… do… you… want… to… see. Talk. Do I have to count to three again? I feel like I'm an accounting major tonight. You're tab is 60, and if I count to three one more time? its going to be 70. I really don't think your ass can pay that kind of tab, personally, but… its going to anyways. Tell me what to do, tell me what you wanna see. Pose me. Last warning… one… two…"

   "Three. I don't care. If I get to play with you more? You, can do whatever you want to me. I died and went to heaven…"

   "Dear? Do you really want 70 on your tab? I really think you need to think this through a little better."

   "Legs…"

   "Yes. I have legs. They go from my feet, to my ass. Like most girls have."

   "No. What are those things on your legs?"

   "Is there a bug on me?"

   He laughed.

   "No. I can't get over your leg muscles. Holy shit."

   "Leg man, huh?"

   "Oh yeah."

   "How about tiptoes… if you like legs…"

   I got up on my tiptoes, and let him see my legs a little flexed. I turned around, and let him see up and down from tiptoes to standing, so he could see my calves flex. I know I have big legs.

   "Oh my god. Um… can I have more legs? I'm going to have a heart attack."

   "Come over. I want you to touch my legs. See what you think. Come on… you're not getting hurt. Well, not yet anyways. That comes a little later. You're okay. For now. Get over here. Or, don't you want to touch me?"

   "I'm coming."

   "Oh. You're coming over here, or… you're just coming…"

   "Both, I think."

   He came over, one step at a time. I finally got him onto the blanket, and told him to touch my legs. Feel them up. Have fun. He liked me up on my tiptoes, feeling my calves. Then, just for fun, I showed him my thighs. I flexed. There's a crouch stance, legs 90 degrees. Kinda shows off legs a little.

   "Oh my god… I thought you were already flexing the thighs… Jesus almighty…"

   "Touch them. Tonight? They're yours."

   "How about tomorrow night."

   "Sure. We have all weekend. So far? Its been a pretty naughty weekend, and… if I have my way? And I usually do, by the way… its going to get a whole lot raunchier."

   "Uh huh…"

   "Feel my butt? Some little girly girls, say oh, there's that fucking amazon. The one with the chubby legs, and the big butt. Like I'm fat or something. Come feel my butt."

   He liked feeling and playing with my butt. Then I gave him him a few "pinches", so he could see them move. Feel it under his hands.

   "Oh my god. Your goddamn ass cheeks have muscles. I think I'm afraid to try your ass on for size now. I'm scared."

   "Don't be scared. If you try to be sweet about it… I won't be mad. Just remember. Love taps, not hard ones right off the bat."

   "Its not that, dear. I'm starting to think you can clench your butt cheeks, and rip my dick off."

   "Wow. You sure do know how to sweet talk a girl, don't you."

   "You have a six pack…"

   "Yeah. I never could get the whole 8 pack. If I drop that much body fat? I start to slow down and gas out, the second half. I'm actually better all the way around, with a six. By the way, honey."

   "Yes…"

   "I'm out of shape right now, you do realize that, right?"

   "What?!?!"

   "This is the off season, dear. I tend to put on, oh… 10 or 15 pounds in the off season. I'll lose it as soon as the preseason camp starts up. Then? If you're still around… you can see me when I'm actually in shape. I'm a little bit of a porker right now."

   "Why do you even like me?"

   "Wanna play with my tummy? Just promise not to make fun of how fat I am right now… off season porker here. Come on…"

   He started running his fingers over my abdominal muscles. I don't have the flat as a board kind, mine are the more rounded out abdominal muscles.

   "Wow…"

   "Ready?"

   "For…"

   "You'll feel it…"

   I flexed my abdominal muscles. They move around as I flex and loosen them. He stared, and ran his fingers over and over, tracing around them. Poking. Making pinching motions.

   "Wanna see some tricks?"

   "What kind of tricks."

   "When I was little? My mom was concerned all I wanted to do, was play wiffle-ball, and tackle football with the boys. When I was young, mom went through this period… she stuck me in the stupid gymnastics and tumbling classes. I hated it. I wanted to play ball. My dad finally made mom quit it. Here. Watch."

   I pulled back on my hands, several times each and moved them around, then did a handstand. I know, I'm showing off. Boys flex their muscles for the girls at parties. If they have any. I only do it for a boyfriend. I knew he liked girl athletes, and had a thing for them, so… this was my warped version of batting my eyelashes at him, and wiggling my butt when I walked.

   I was never great at gymnastics. I'm actually a little too heavy to try to do it for real, if I even wanted to anyways. I guess the only real benefit that stuck with me, was it gave me coordination and flexibility, which I insisted that I was gonna waste it on sports, but… I get a free degree from a big university when I finish, so mom got her money's worth anyways.

   I walked around on my hands some, then did a few easy tricks. Somersaults, a few basic twists, that kind of thing. Any real gymnastics girl can smoke me, but to a person off the street I can make it look good. The hand walking, the upside down push ups, are all easy workouts to keep in shape. As long as I never quit, it kinda keeps me automatically in reasonable shape.

   "Let's see. Ever had a girlfriend that can do this…"

   I did a split on a handstand, then lowered myself smoothly into the split gymnastics girls are known for. Yeah, guys like seeing that one. Go figure. I then lifted my split legs off the blanket with my hands, and told him to shine the light underneath me, to see it was done right. I went back up into a handstand with a split, then did a few leg waves.

   I couldn't help going from a straight handstand, to a crouch by whirling. Then, I squeezed my legs smoothly to push myself back to standing straight. I did the prancing around on my toes thing. We look like we're bouncing on air, people say. I can still do it, just not as long as when I was younger and skinnier. I was never a really skinny girl, and I filled out more in my teens. In between bounces, young girls forced into gymnastics learn to bounce into air splits and back, a few stutter steps, all to create the bouncing on air illusion. I just can't keep it up very long.

   I couldn't help showing off my one handed somersaults. I had him stand right in front of me, and in a flash one arm is on the ground, and I'm doing a one armed handstand, then I can gain my feet quick. After one to either side a few times, I backed off and took a few steps of a jog towards him, then one handed in a whirl and landed behind him, which is surprising to anyone that hasn't done gymnastics. I can suddenly land behind an opponent playing soccer in a game. I save that trick for when it counts. When the other team's tired.

   "Okay… ever see a crab walk?"

   "Not sure what that even is."

   "This…"

   I did a few backwards somersaults, then landed on my hands and feet, my breasts and pelvis pointed up as I walked around. Like a crab. When I was done, I whirled back up on my feet.

   "Flexibility? I pretty much can't get hurt, even if I go into a bad skid in a game and my legs go funny. Because…"

   Showing off, I stood on one foot, and raised my leg to 180 degrees. Grabbed my ankle, and basically did a split standing upright. Came down and did the other one.

   "I love your tan."

   "Really? I'm actually not as dark as I can get. Daddy? Makes a few jokes about how dark I get in the summer, when I was working on the farm as a kid. Mom yells at him."

   "I'm afraid to ask…"

   "Well. We're Italian. Which makes me Italian. Which makes me dark in the summer, if I'm in the sun all day from sunup to sundown for a couple weeks. Daddy makes a joke, if he's not in mixed company. Makes mom mad, but…"

   "I don't get it."

   "Okay. If someone says something like… which one is your daughter, the blonde one, or… Daddy thinks its funny to say… No, the dark one. My wife fucked a trigger, I think, you can see how dark she came out…"

   "Oh my god…"

   "Yeah. I get pretty dark. I'm pretty sure, Daddy doesn't say trigger, he says…"

   "I get it, I get it."

   "So. How do I look. For a porker, I mean."

   "You look, like you should be in the Olympics. I wasn't kidding. I'm… just…"

   "Thank you. That's very sweet of you to say, but… I'm just not good enough."

   "But, you're a starter. As a freshman. At a big school. Surely you have a chance, to…"

   "Its not realistic. What is realistic, though, is for me to stay in shape and keep starting. I'm getting a free degree. Scholarship. Now, because I start? The little perk you get for being a starter, at this school… is a free townhouse apartment. In the village."

   "You live in the village?"

   "Yeah. If you start? Free townhouse apartment. The basic scholarship, is free tuition, and free books and free fees. Naturally, room and board. Because I'm an athlete? I get free summer break everything. You know, you have to pay for summer gym and swimming pass? Its to encourage us sports students to stay in shape."

   "Why, didn't you mention you live with the rich kids?"

   "The rich kids, as you call them? Make fun of the athletes that start and get free townhouse apartments. They have a few choice names for us. None of which, I'll ever hear to my face, I doubt. Little rich girly girls? Really don't like it when I get in their face."

   "Not sure I wanna tangle with you…"

   "Do… you want me to put my clothes back on? I figured you might get tired of looking at me, off season porker that I am right now and all. A farm slut, one village rich girl called me once."

   "To your face?"

   "Just that once. It didn't happen a second time."

   "Why?"

   "I think she saw me in my jeans, my ripped up favorite flannel work shirt, boots, big cowboy buckle… I heard the words, farm slut come out of her mouth. This, from a blowjob queen."

   "Oh gee. I guess you decked her. Little girly girl, right?"

   "Little shit didn't come up to my tits. My wrists are bigger than her thighs. Half her diet is coke and cock."

   "Did you smack her around, huh? I'd pay money to see you smack a little girl around, then beat off to the cell phone video."

   "I have to watch my scholarship. I picked her up, and held her against the wall. She has these scrawny little arms, can't reach my face, and her little legs are kicking off the ground. I held her there, and wouldn't put her down for a while. I told her I'd smack the taste right out of her mouth, if I heard it again. She started to say something about her boyfriend, and two of my team mates came over. Really more to rescue her, than to gang up on her, but she doesn't know that. They were laughing at her, said we'd kick the shit out of him too. He ain't no bigger than her, and he's all mouth with a daddy's sports car."

   "I guess the boyfriend never…"

   "Ah. She's pointing at us one day, week or two later. He's standing there, acting tough. Which is fucking hysterical, if you ever saw him. See, that was her big mistake. If I hit another girl and hurt her, get arrested… I could be in big trouble. But… a boy? We all started giving him shit. I'm walking around that day, with a couple girls all look like me. You gotta understand, this little girl I'm talking about. She's like 5 foot tall, looks honest to god no exaggeration, every bit of maybe 70 or 75 pounds soaking wet, and that's with the cock in her mouth. The boyfriend? He's, like… 5'3", if that. Looks about 98 pounds, and that's with the cock in his ass. I take a shit bigger than that, in the off season."

   "Hun, I'm just… what the fuck. Why are you even on the market. There has to be something…"

   "What are you saying?"

   "Its just a phrase."

   "Finish, the phrase. There has to be something…"

   "Let me rephrase it, then."

   "No. I want you to finish it. I'm going to start counting. Where are we even at with you, anyways. Was it 70?"

   "You said you were the accounting major tonight. 70 sounds about right…"

   "If I count to three?"

   "I know, I know. It goes to 80."

   "One…"

   "Honey, its just a phrase."

   "Okay. So finish it. Now. Two…"

   "It, sounds worse than it really is, its a compliment, really, when you sit back and think ab---"

   "Did I ask you for an explanation? No. I told you, to finish the phrase. Th---"

   "Wrong with you."

   "Uh huh. I know what you were just about to say. I started to say three. 80. There, its done. No… you're done. You started off with 40, now its like you were trying your best, to double it. Congratulations. Now that you already paid for it? Its on your tab. You might think this is funny right now. I don't think its going to be so funny, later on. Repeat after me, would you?"

   "I? Will do anything you say… you have no idea…"

   "We'll see about that. But that's later. Since you already paid for the words, you just said, oh go on. You? Repeat it to me. Go on."

   "Why are you on the market, there just has to be… something wrong with you."

   "All right. What's wrong with me."

   "Nothing. Its a phrase. Its a compliment, really. I'm… looking at… some Olympics girl, some kind of… Greek statue… why aren't there guys up your ass."

   "Well. If you'd quit trying to piss me off, we were talking about you being up my ass. Tomorrow. Maybe. Do you wanna know what's… wrong with me?"

   "I honestly can't see any guy, not lining up to…"

   "Let's do the numbers. I'm an amazon. Simple fact. Right?"

   "I love that… you, are like… my dream girl…"

   "Thank you. But. I'm an amazon. How many guys do you see with a girlfriend, taller than they are. Seriously."

   "Not that many, I guess."

   "Its rare. Do you know how many guys in the population are as tall or taller than me?"

   "I honestly don't…"

   "Less than 10 percent. Right off the bat, 90 percent of the men? I'm off their radar. Now. Out of the 10 percent, that are taller than me, its less than 10 percent, just rounding off, but… did you know, that most tall guys, prefer short girls?"

   "I mean…"

   "Its a fact. It seems like, the smaller a girl is, it makes the guy look bigger. Some shit. Now, out of less than 10 percent of the male population, only a certain percentage of what's left? Is even in my age bracket. Less of a pool for me. We gotta take away guys that are retarded. Guys that are useless. Criminals. Druggies. I don't like… typical macho jerks and assholes? And they're some of the worst amazon haters out there. I mean I'm willing to try to compromise, but… I don't like complete dorks. Sissies. Hell, 2 percent of the male population sucks dick, so… there's another chunk gone. Then, god himself help me, I make it worse. I'm getting good grades here. Its a good degree, I'm not majoring in basket weaving, you know… fuck me, but I'd like a guy with half a brain and an education, like me… I'm telling you. Its slim fucking pickings for me. And I got the other girls to compete with. For what's even left. I won't sleep around, just to have someone around for a couple nights, I'm not starting that shit. I want a guy with some… scruples, morals, something like that. There ain't shit left."

   "Honey, there has to be some kind of… demographic…"

   "Yeah. There's weirdos, that are into amazons. I don't mean a guy like you, I mean… you are aware, there are guys into… circus midgets… 500 pound land whales… like that. So no, I'm not a goddamn circus freak. Now. Lets just shave off, the last guy on earth that might like me, that I might even be remotely interested in? What is my…"

   "Oh. What do you call that? Your… sexual hobby… your sexual preference… "

   "Whatever we call it. When you look at people that do what we're into. More numbers against me. Most of the people that are into that, in a regular relationship… you are aware that its usually the guy, that swats the girl."

   "I guess."

   "Now. Remember I don't wanna be… the circus midget girlfriend? There's two kinds of people that share our… taste buds for that. Some of them are regular couples. Boyfriend and girlfriend, they just happen to have a taste for… adventure in the bedroom. But. There's a big chunk that… the adventure comes first, the relationship comes second. And… this, free for all orgy shit, you see on the goddamn internet. The… community of…"

   "Will I go to 90, if I say perverts?"

   "No. I refuse to hunt. Which is what I would call someone that goes out, just looking for… fun with no strings. They go home to the partner who's… they call it vanilla. I want a relationship. A normal one. Not a goddamned circus act on the weekends and holidays."

   "You really like me?"

   "I want you to look at me, and tell me if you like my body or not. You seem to."

   "Am I in more trouble, if I say you look like some kind of… Greek goddess, or some shit?"

   "I know you don't mean that bad. You don't get in trouble for that one."

   "I'm not trying to be rude. How is calling you a Greek goddess, how can that possibly be construed to be a bad thing. If I would of said a guy looked like a Greek god? He's jacked. How could that possibly be bad to say to you. You're an athlete for gods sake."

   "Wow. You just made me feel… that was very sweet, and you don't even know it."

   "Holy shit, I accidentally said something right. Please tell me what it was, so I can gloat. And memorize it. And tell you once in a while, to try to get out of trouble."

   I smiled.

   "Remember I said I refuse to be some kind of… circus midget girlfriend, a circus freak?"

   "Yeah. I don't want you to be my circus freak. Just saying."

   "Well… the guys that, not you. You just like tall, strong girls. But, there's a fetish out there. You know, instead of circus midgets, they like… amazons. Their word for us? Is goddess. I know you mean it good though. Also, goddess, is slang for… a professional dominatrix."

   "Um. How much trouble am I in, if I point out the obvious joke here. Come on. You have to laugh at this a little bit with me. Come on. A sense of humor can get you through anything."

   I sighed. A big long one.

   "I know. I have a whip and a rope in the trunk. I already showed you, twice, I like using it on a boy. Gets me wet. I'd be pissed if someone wanted me to be a dominatrix. I… get the joke."

   "That's good."

   "Honey. I know you like me. I think so anyways. Did you ever look around you, and see a girl, I don't know. A girl like me? And you wonder why the husband is some… out of shape, ex football player washed up has been. Drunk, stupid, foul mouthed, fat hairy fuck… and he's walking around with a girl looks like me, graduated college 10 years ago? I bet you'd look and go… what the ever loving fuck, why does that piece of shit, get her. How am I doing here."

   "Couple times, yeah."

   "Well? Now you know how it happens. You wanna know what my competition is?"

   "The rest of the girls here on the teams, you told me…"

   "If you go and look back, you made jokes, you watched the women's Olympics? You… like looking, right?"

   "They're like pinup girls to me, hun…"

   "Yeah, well. If you go and track them down, after the Olympics are over with? You'll find them married, almost every one of them. To some… fat, hairy, disgusting creepy rich guy. Money? Is… a lot of women find it attractive. Women like me? Even better ones… the pickings are slim."

   "Let's say I believe you. Let me finish, before you go off… please? Indulge me."

   "This better go somewhere nice, and get there fucking quick. I'll tell you a secret you need to know, in a minute or two. Go on."

   "On your theory. If the pickings for you tall, strong girls are so slim… why did I basically chase one sporty girl here at this university, after another. Like a goddamn puppy dog, trying like hell to land one. I can't get the time of day. Now. I'm not saying there's any issue with you, but how do you suddenly jump on me. I am ever so slowly, learning to watch my words. I was about to say… what was your issue, but… better way to phrase it. What the fuck am I missing, in this whole picture. Slim pickings. I can't get the time of day. I stand on my head trying, I gave up. Here, you come running. Is it some kind of… women only like men that aren't trying, psychology trick shit? What am I not seeing here. Maybe you can fill in the blanks."

   I smiled.

   "Oh. That. I'm scared to tell you that."

   "What? Some rumor I'm gay floating around? I'm supposed to have AIDS? What shit am I up against here."

   "Nope. Not that. I'm actually afraid to tell you. I'm serious. If you insist, I will though. Then? You can go off, and cure the issue or two, that you don't know about. Then? Yeah. You can probably land your pick of… look, you had a nickname among us… sports girls."

   "I can't wait."

   "The slang we use, is a cheerleader."

   "Who's calling me a faggot?"

   I smiled again, shook my head.

   "Not like that. The slang got to be, cheerleader. Here. To understand what the slang means… think… groupie. You know, the little girls that keep trying to follow rock stars and pro sports guys around? They can point at a groupie, and take them back stage, and they just run like a little puppy dog to get used."

   "Oh. I'm a groupie, of female athletes. So, I'm not worth the effort. A rock star can't brag about a groupie girlfriend, only a real girl. I'm the fucking groupie. Well, that's just fucking swell. Is there some guy, I can just knock his block off, and this shit stops?"

   "No. We… don't necessarily mind… cheerleaders, erm… groupies. Slim pickings. I was checking you out. For a while. I wouldn't call it stalking. If a girl is interested, we ask around…"

   "What did your detective work turn up."

   "I visited the computer department. Which is also the math department. Are you aware, you have some kind of reputation as a…"

   "A spastic geek?"

   "Computer nerd, same thing."

   "Yes. I'm aware. I'm proud of it. Its my fucking thing."

   "Well. You kind of stand out, in the computer department. I mean, there's a lot of…"

   "Spastic geeks. Say it. I'm proud of that shit."

   "Right. Now, you computer geeks. You guys kind of make fun of… football types, that… are trying to force feed themselves a computer degree, and ain't quite cutting it?"

   "Hey. If I go out for the football team? I get creamed by a 350 pound gorilla. The gorilla walks into my fucking world? Yeah. I'll light you up and piss you out. Programming a computer. Electrical Engineering? Is a hobby for me. That? Is my… sport. In my world? Yeah. I'm one of the 350 pound gorillas, in a spastic geek sort of way. If that makes sense."

   "Right. Now, among the computer crowd, again you stand out, because… you really don't look like one of them. There are very few… tall, works out, the motorcycle…"

   "Are you trying to say, I'm not ugly?"

   "You're… you? Every girl has her type, and you're one of them. You got this… some girls check you out, then they find out you're a spastic geek? Its like chick repellent. In case you didn't know. And, the way one of the… computer nerds put it? When the computer nerds all get together? Computer nerds, call you a nerd."

   "Bitch. Flattery? Will get you everywhere. Yes!"

   "This makes you… happy?"

   "Fucking A right. You sports types. You got your big stars. One or two guys might actually turn pro. Make it, right?"

   "Sure."

   "This is my sport. I'm the 350 pound gorilla, in my sport. The nerds, call me a nerd? Yeah… I'm working on, not like anyone would know, or care… I'm working on the routines, I'm getting there. I'm designing my own programming language. Me. Alone. I got proof of concept working. Not a whole team at MIT or Cal Tech… just me. I'm writing my own programming language, designing my own compiler. All from scratch. Not some interpreted shit, a ground up thing. I might do it, I might pull it off. For me? That's like turning pro."

   "Well. If you wanna go? And get your pick of any of those girls that won't give you the time of day? That's how to fix it."

   "I'm going to run the risk, of going 90 here, or fuck it, let's go straight to 100. If none of the others want the… spastic geek, even though I'm technically a good enough looking guy, supposedly. Why are you so… desperate, you're willing to slum it with me, and get made fun of by the sporty girls, huh?"

   I made a huge sigh. A very slow, very deep, slow exhaling long one.

   "I accidentally found out the truth about you. By accident."

   "What truth? I'm not gay, I'm a geek, not a faggot. Slight difference there…"

   "Remember the party we met at?"

   "First date."

   "No. the party we just happened to bump into each other. This was a long time ago. We had a class together."

   "Vaguely. So?"

   "There was some football player, gave you the shits."

   "Yeah. I ignore that drunk bullshit when I can get out of it."

   "I know. It… doesn't enhance your…"

   "Oh. My what. My… bullshit tough guy score card?"

   "The other reputation, aside from the spastic geek thing, is you're supposed to be… not a fairy, but… you won't fight. You're a pushover. Any drunk guy can make you say you're a pussy. If you know what I mean."

   "Hun? You want that bullshit? You can go fuck a football player. Be my guest. Or… go date some… criminal with a record and a drug habit. Fuck that fake tough guy bullshit."

   "That's just it, though. That, is the other half of what… kills your… possibilities as a groupie."

   "Whatever. If I have to walk around and act like a meathead, when I have an IQ bigger than ten times my shoe size, and I don't have that small of feet, honestly… the whole campus can kiss my ass. I'm here to get an education, I want to be known for my programming, my electronics engineering designs. Fuck the world. I got bigger fish to fry, than getting into dick measuring contests, with drunken numb-nuts every weekend. Why? So some dip-shit girl, with the IQ of a rock, will go… oh my! I just love bad boys! Tee hee!"

   "Those are your two… issues. Now. Why do I want to slum it? I told you. I know your secret."

   "What's my secret then."

   I smiled.

   "That drunken football player. Yeah, he's an asshole. He was giving you the shits, I saw it. He made you say, yeah I'm a pussy… so you could get away from him. So he could look good."

   "I hope whatever dip-shit girl blew him for his contribution to humanity that night? Gave him herpes."

   "I just happen to know, that afterwards… you walked right up to him, tapped him on the shoulder. Off to the side. After he had his big… show he won, or whatever. You tapped him on the shoulder, and said something like… hey? Shits and giggles aside, I don't care if you wanna look like a big man. But… why don't you go… ask your friend, Bobby? Not his name, forget what the name was, but… I suggest you go over there and ask Bobby, if you should be fucking with me, dumbbell. They said you told him and you said it off to the side, so he could keep his game going, but if he really wanted to go somewhere privately, no one else around? Go ask your friend Bobby first, then report back. No talking in here, we both sneak off, no one around. No witnesses. Bet you won't do it."

   "I think you got some bum information. If I did that, to some gorilla? I'd get my shit pushed in."

   "Uh huh. The way I heard it, again, Bobby wasn't his name, but… apparently, the gorilla went over, and… he didn't come back over. They said he magically left you alone."

   "I still think you got some bum information, but…"

   "There's also a rumor going around, you were some kind of… commando or some shit. Weren't you in the service? Army, Marines, some shit like that."

   "Get that part straight, and check your leads, detective. It was the Air Force. I was a computer programmer there, for four years. Now, in case you didn't know? The Air Force gets made fun of, by the Army, the Navy, the Marines. They call us the… wait for it… the Chair Force. Yes, I was a computer programmer, in the branch that is… if the Marines have the tough guy reputation? The Chair Force, has the exact opposite reputation. So again, I'm not the tough guy. I'm a spastic geek. Get it right."

   I smiled.

   "I know my information, is somewhat correct."

   "Question. If the gorilla, supposedly, walks over to this Bobby guy, and they point at me? I love how conveniently there is no Bobby, you don't know the name, but… if this supposedly happened, would there not be some kind of… counter-rumor going around. That I was in fact, some secret tough guy, pretending to be a spastic geek? When yet in fact, you can go to my high school, and its a matter of public record, that I'm a spastic geek, through and through… and that I was known for being a pushover in school when I was a kid. Gods truth, its verifiable."

   I smiled once again.

   "That's what I heard. Magic of the internet, you know. Click, click, click. Hey, girl. You know this guy? Click, click, click."

   "So, I start life out as a spastic geek. Then, again a matter of public record. I go to the Chair Force, the wimpiest branch of all, mind you… and its verifiable, a computer programmer for them. To get college money. Now? Here I am, on campus. And once again, if you hit the computer department up? I'm not only a nerd, I'm the nerd's nerd… and I'm proud of that shit. I mean, do your… weren't you an accountant tonight, dear? Lets keep score. Growing up, 0 to 18. Spastic geek. Weird genius boy. Service? Chair Force, computer programmer. Again, the service's version of… spastic geek. Campus here, once again? Ask the entire computer and math, and the electronics department, by the way… spastic yet again. Your accounting is off. I am sorry to inform you, that your information, is provably false."

   I smiled again. It began to irritate him.

   "Okay. What's with the shit eating grin."

   "Interesting choice of words. Geek boy. Accounting. By my count? You, are what, wasn't it 80?"

   I'm still standing there naked. We're arguing like this, and its like I might as well have a fucking snowsuit on, for all he's noticing my body. Smiling the shit eating grin, I leaned in and whispered in his ear.

   "Wanna bet? Not only do I know your secret? I can prove it."

   "What's the bet?"

   "You're 80? Bet me another 20. That I can prove my claim, and you can't deny it."

   "Well. If its a bet? What do I get, if I win. Which I will, you already lost. I just wanna verify I win something, when I win, which I'm just about to."

   "20 off?"

   "That would be 60."

   "Congratulations. You can count."

   "Smart ass."

   "Thank you. I'm not a dumb jock. I do not major in basket weaving. I'll go 40. If you win, you're back to 40. Which is where you started out. But if I win? Your tab will be 100, and I intend to collect. And, I have a reason for that, too."

   "What's your proof."

   "Is it a bet?"

   "Sure. I might as well go from 80 to 40, in one fell swoop. Then? I can spend the rest of the night, getting back up in the accounting."

   "Why do you want the highest number possible? I don't get it."

   "Are you a spaz? Or a street smart jock. Which is it."

   "Mostly street smart jock, but… I don't major in basket weaving."

   "You like, what you like."

   "Yeah. I have… demonstrated what I like, on you. Twice I might add. And? I am going to enjoy demonstration number three."

   "If you make me…"

   "What. Cry?"

   "Yeah. Your twat gets wet, doesn't it? And for the record, bending you over the hood, and that soaking, dripping wet thing you called a twat? Oh my god… did that feel good."

   "Thank you, by the way. Your point?"

   "If… some love pats, birthday swats gets you hot and bothered."

   "Uh huh."

   "And twenty… medium? Gets you not only wet, but…"

   "Garden sprinkler, whatever."

   "Yeah. And you said, more is better, the more you…"

   "Uh huh."

   "Will it hurt to go through it? Maybe. Definitely. But… the end result, should be, according to my spastic geek calculations…"

   "Mm. Yeah, I like yin. The more yin, the better. Does something for me. You? Unless you're pretending, and I don't think you are, by the way… you, like yang. And so far, the more yang the better. How are we not going to get along. I? for some reason, like to rob banks. You, for some reason, like to have your bank robbed, and your keep leaving the front door unlocked, the vault open, and waiting to get robbed. According to my, streetwise jock calculations… you? Like a certain type of girl, and I'm it. I'm standing on a blanket in the middle of nowhere, naked mind you. Literally standing on my head for you. I'm just what I think you want, you… if I asked you, to kneel and kiss anywhere I pointed? I'm pretty sure you'd do it. And you'd like it. You are about this far, from getting tied up, and you know what's going to happen to you? And again, you like the idea. Then? I told you, I'm going to keep you tied up, and use you for a fuck toy. And I'm betting, you're going to love it."

   "Yet, you're about to go back to 40. What is this, impossible proof. I'm calling your bluff."

   "Where's my phone…"

   He handed it to me. I flicked through, flicked through… then handed it to him. I leaned in, again the shit eating grin. I whispered in his ear.

   "You? Are about to cry. Its going to take a while. I? Am going to enjoy, making you cry. Then, I'm going to use you, for a fuck toy. And you? Are going to be mine. Press play. Spastic geek boy."

   "This I gotta…"

   He noticed something, before he even pressed play.

   "Oh. I'm sorry. What's that oh shit look, I just saw cross over your face. Why, you look like someone just walked directly over your grave, little boy. Press play. Your ass is mine. Literally."

   I had to reach over, and press play for him.

   "Delete it if you want? Won't do you any good. I have copies. In the cloud. Where even geek boy probably can't get them. I'm settling this shit, right now."

   I already knew what the video was, and I already knew, that he knew what it was.

   "See. I just happen to know. By whatever way. That you used to sneak off to a place known? As The Barn."

   "Bar. Ways off, down 40. Now, it used to be The Barn, name changed years ago, but a lot of locals and a few older guys, still call it that, even with the new name…"

   "Uh huh. I know that bullshit story, too. The bar exists, and that story is true. What's also true, there's a… well, its a barn, a big old one. And… my information is that its an unlicensed, private gym. Done up as a private club. Apparently, boxers… wrestlers… karate guys go there… supposedly some tough guys that are supposed to have killed people in the service go there… they work out, and once a week? Guys sign waivers, and they have… for legal purposes, a workout. But. People know, that while its actually a place to work out, that much is true. Guys go there to fight."

   "Sounds like some kind of an urban legend, to be honest."

   "I heard, its brutal. Anything goes. Apparently, guys get hurt so much? You have to prove you have medical insurance, or they won't even let you join. No spectators allowed. Members only. Gentleman's agreement, is if you get your arm broke, or your leg broke. Or, more usually? Someone gets their face broken. I mean that literally, by the way. No one has ever sued. Not that they couldn't, they just don't. The waiver helps, but. No one wants their… reputation to be, that they were the guy that narc-ed. Someone drives you to the emergency room, and drops you off, that's what the proof of medical insurance is for. The guys wake up in the emergency room, their official story is they got hit by a vehicle, they fell down the stairs. Whatever. No one has ever admitted to how they got hurt. And even if they did, they were legally training, for fun, and an accident occurred."

   "I heard this bedtime story, in a bar once, honey… its an urban legend. Like… everyone and their uncle? Has heard about this supposedly famous whorehouse, two towns up the river. It simply, does not exist. This is no different."

   "Okay. I saw your face. You can drop the act, anytime. You? Have been caught. By? Moi."

   "You have a grainy video. Someone is… jerking a cell phone around. An old one, mind you, it looks like. I see, 2 guys… fighting, working out… whatever. This could be anywhere."

   "Really? Gimme the phone…"

   I leaned over, and simply swiped left, and the next video came up. I pressed play.

   "Better video quality. Less herk-y jerk-y. There's this one guy… standing here… does he look familiar?"

   "I don't know."

   "Uh huh… listen to the audio. Oh! They just announced, its The Barn's big fight night."

   "The Barn? Is an urban legend. Ask any cop, he'll tell you. I see, once again. Two guys… working out. Fighting… again, whatever. Just because some video claims to be… The Barn? Doesn't make it real."

   "And, that guy there. That one. He doesn't look familiar."

   "Is that your mysterious Bobby, who you don't know his real name? Great."

   "Uh huh. Care to up your bet? Go double or nothing, or what have you. Hmm?"

   "This is amusing, but…"

   "Yeah. Third video? You should find more interesting."

   I leaned over. Humming, being deliberately annoying. While I flicked left again, and brought up the third video.

   "Once again. Care to go double or nothing?"

   I pressed play for him. Somehow, he couldn't find the play button. Even though it was a gigantic triangular arrow, taking up the middle one third of the screen. I'm so helpful sometimes, its just unreal.

   While he watched the third video, my humming and la-la-la annoying shit, increased. I wasn't technically dancing around the blanket spread out. Doing more of a walking on air, gymnastic moves. Enjoying myself ostensibly, but in reality being as annoying as possible.

   "Honey? I don't care if The Barn, really is an urban legend, and no one can prove some video floating around is just someplace claiming to actually be the supposedly legendary, supposedly nonexistent fighting place. Are you seriously going to watch that video, and tell me you don't know who that one guy fighting is? I mean, I might be a streetwise jock, but, one more time I'm not majoring in basket weaving."

   "What do you want? What's the point of all this…"

   "For the moment? Let's forget about all this… stuff. Let's just get back to the here and now. Okay? That all right? Tell me what you see."

   "I see a gorgeous girl, actually. She's dancing. Running the risk of going over 100? She's dancing, kind of like a nitwit. But I love watching her do it."

   "Uh huh. What exactly, is the problem here. Forget all this… stuff. Just… look. Was it that long ago, when I started giving you a little show? You. Just stood there, staring. Were you lying to me? All I heard was, holy shit, oh my god, Jesus H. Christ. You? Just stood there, rooted to the spot. And again, unless you were lying to me? You called me… your dream girl. You said I looked like an Olympic athlete to you. I wanna say, you said something like, I make you just wanna take your dick out and beat it. Or maybe I heard you wrong."

   "You heard right. You do. You wanna watch me beat off to you dancing like a nitwit? I have zero problem with that. You don't have to threaten me with a whip or anything."

   "Honestly. Like a lot of stuff. I never actually had a guy stand there and play with himself in front of me. That, would be a real novelty. I would rather not see you do that right this second? I'd rather you saved your… ammo pouch for now, but. Sometime in the future? Yeah. I'll either ask you to do it, or I'll tell you to do it, and then you will. I mean, asking you and you do it is fine, but I won't lie. Making you do it? So, much more fun for me."

   "Are you drunk?"

   "I have this little buzz. I don't think I'm hammered. Are you?"

   "Buzzed…"

   "Okay. When you see a girl you think is pretty… and…"

   "Gorgeous. You're not pretty, you're gorgeous. Your body? Is…"

   "Hmm. I never get tired of hearing that. You? Are so sweet. I like that about you, really I do. I'm serious. Now. When you see a pr---, okay. Gorgeous girl. Dancing naked. Standing on her head, literally by the way… just to get your attention. Now, this is the same girl, that not very long ago? Pretty much kidnapped you, and dragged you out in the middle of nowhere. Just happens, to be into exactly what you're into. Has the same secret… thing you have. Loved doing it to you, and you? You can't hide it, you loved it being done to you. She did it twice already. You know she's about to do it a third time. If I have to? All I have to do, is give you some rough, dirty, naughty talk. Kiss your neck, put my hand on your dick… and… putty. You will do, anything I ask or tell you, to do. Why are you fighting me."

   "I'm not, fighting you. I…"

   "You what then. Before, you couldn't take your eyes off me. I loved it. You made me feel, so…"

   "Gorgeous. What you are, is absolutely gorgeous."

   "What are you afraid of. This all started, when I called you my boyfriend, didn't it."

   "Not exactly, but…"

   "I'm single. You? Said you were single."

   "I am."

   "Not anymore, you're not."

   He just stared.

   "Are you here with me? Yes. Did we already have sex? We did. You raved about it. We also played. I played with you, is what I call it. Once. Then twice. About to play with you, a third time. Like you're not going to enjoy it, pffft."

   "You must be drunk."

   "Swear I'm not. Now. Why wouldn't you want to stay here, tomorrow and even tomorrow night. Again. Have all the same fun. Or, different fun. Both really. I mean, I guess you could run away in the woods, hide, then try to get a ride home eventually. But… why would you. No. So, you would stay here tomorrow, too. Why not, right?"

   "I can't take my eyes off you. I'm trying to remember why you're not right, but…"

   "Uh huh. I showed you, twice. About to a third time, that I just happen to love, what you love. Something weird. Something special. Something very hard to find. Same as me. Tell me, its not a compulsion of some kind. You can't say no to it. My first make out session, ever? Young girl. How it pops into my mind, to… snap a wet towel on the boys bare butt, alone with him. The stuff, just pops into your head. You can't help it. Sound familiar?"

   "Well…"

   "Uh huh. You find it… embarrassing. But, its a compulsion, too. Your whole life, it starts when you're young. When you start noticing… me noticing boys, you, noticing girls… those naughty thoughts, and you know the ones I mean. They just pop right in. Don't they? Tell me I'm wrong."

   "I can't say you're wrong."

   "I know, right? If I was making this up, because I'm a loony stalker, I couldn't know this much about it. No, you know its the real deal. Those naughty… dirty… disgusting… perverted… images. They just pop into your head. And you know the ones I mean. You wouldn't talk about it to anyone, when you were young. I know I wouldn't. That shit was top secret. But, there's a problem that arises, isn't there? Yeah, you know what the big problem is. You must find a way to… and how? You're too embarrassed for anyone to ever know, but at the same time… you simply must find a girl and spill the beans. Somehow. Some way."

   "Do I have to admit it?"

   "You can lie, but I know better. You have about as much chance, of changing it? Uh, you ever try to quit beating off, as a kid? You said you were Catholic, so… its a sin. You feel so bad. Why can't you quit doing the bad thing? Some parents aren't terribly helpful. Its supposed to be shameful. Or disgusting. Thank god, no doctors will do anything, except treat the parents now. But… you have about as much chance of changing those thoughts, and those desires… as stopping beating off. I mean, you can quit acting it out. But, you'll go half nuts. You can't stop the images, the desires. The ideas that pop into your head. I give you some rough and dirty talk? Putty. I know it, you know it. Tell me I'm wrong, tell me I'm lying."

   "I can't"

   "Okay. So. Rest of tonight. Probably tomorrow, tomorrow night. Its happening. Its the here and now. I do it, you want it. You stared at me, game over."

   "You're so sure of yourself."

   "Run away. I bet you won't. I won't chase you. Go."

   "Hmm."

   "Still here? Ha. Now then. We'll get back, doesn't matter. Sunday? Now, eventually. If you don't come prowling around, to look at the girl you liked staring at. The one that freely does those dirty things you like, that you desperately crave being done to you… well… even if you do manage to stay away? I'll come prowling for you. I don't have to do a damn thing, all I have to do is sit there and smile. You'll know. I'll know. One of us will suggest another date. Another get together. Something. Then? You know you can't say no. If you try? Pffft. I'll just whisper something particularly naughty in your ear… putty. Tell me, this won't go on. Go on, try to sell me that one."

   "Again…"

   "I know, right? Then, where are we. I'll tell you where we'll both be at. We, will be exactly here again. Or in some other spot. Same shit though. See the cycle?"

   "I have to admit…"

   "Look. I come over, and I drop my jeans. Down to my ankles. Flex my legs, turn around and show you my calves… I mean not one word. Then, I'll just wiggle my finger at you. The finger says? Come here. I will pull my jeans up, turn around and walk out… wiggling the finger, beckoning… and? You will follow. To? Wherever. I'll take you to… abandoned building. Naughty story in your ear… use you like a sex crime victim. Because that's what I do. You? Get used like a sex crime victim. That's what you do. Down the river. Motel room. Janitor's closet. Shower room, after hours."

   "I like you. I like the special things you do. As well as the more normal things, too. What's the point."

   "You explain to me, how I'm not your girlfriend now. You're here now. We'll probably be here tomorrow and tomorrow night, too. Whenever we go back… it will happen again, we both know it. Is that not the definition of a girlfriend? Tell me I'm wrong."

   Staring.

   "Oh. Teeny rule. Not a biggie, but. There will not be another girl coming around, making eyes at you. I will knock the ever loving shit out of her. Try me. You don't follow girl's soccer, do you."

   "Do I get another 20, if I don't…"

   "Do you want 120 instead? Give me the word. Its just a number. But no, you can stay at your measly 100. Mommy? Has decided to have pity on you. I actually feel… not sorry for you, but… I'm kidding. Half kidding, something like that. But… that's not important. What is important? Do you know what a goon is."

   "In hockey, there's guys that---"

   "Yep. I'm a starter. I'm a broad utility player, everything except goal tending, but… I'm also on the goon squad. Every team, that has even limited contact? Has them. No avoiding it. Most goons, their main talent is size and strength, some sports their speed gives them power too, but… I'm a utility skill player, and I'm a… useful goon. You don't have to take the more useful skilled player out, to have one of your main goons on the field. I'm already there. If the other team doesn't play clean, with skill, like they're supposed to? Here I come."

   "You're a big, strong girl."

   "Find me a girl on campus, that will cross me. Good luck."

   "As we… as you… recently established. I'm a fighter. There's someone for everyone, no one is the best, ever. If you happen to be the best? You will get taken down. Today, tomorrow, two years from now. Its not a guideline, its not a rule, its a law. That myth, of the unbeatable fighter? That's… action movie fantasy. Not real life."

   "Yes. They drill that into our heads in sports, too. For the skill players, for the goon players, for the utility players. Its true. But… still go and find one, that will cross me. If I can't win, I'll make sure they won't do it a second time. It will not be worth their while. You'll need to find some… boxer girl, some pro karate girl on TV, some of that shit. But on campus? You might, but, good luck."

   "I don't believe this. I'm standing here, watching you dance like a nitwit, while you explain this… and I can't…"

   "You know I'm right. You play chess, right?"

   "Yes. Not great at it, but I play. I'm okay, if you're not one of those chess club timer players. You play?"

   "Tried a couple times, I'm not very good at it. Don't have to be. This is all a chess game, and I've got the board covered. What would you say? I've seen people that can play. Its kinda aggravating when they do it, but cool too. They sit, they study the board. Then finally, after a long time, slowly move that one piece… then, again, couple minutes later, they finally lift their finger off, that's it. Can't take the move back now… and they announce it. Okay… and that's? Mate in three. They then sit there and tell you, each best possible move. It drives you fucking nuts, because…"

   "I don't do it a lot, but… every now and again, yeah. I will announce… mate in two, mate in three, then call their moves before they do them. Knight over there… then? Yeah, they can't not move it there."

   "Great. I'm calling, mate in three, or whatever. Go on, study the board."

   "I'm not sure, I was going to put up that much of a fight. At least, not this weekend…"

   "Yeah. Figured on that. Only another girl? Can try to break that cycle, you're caught in. Not happening. Also? I'm going to mark you. You? Are going to be my property. You? Will belong to me. Its done. Well, quite soon, but. That's that. Case closed. I dare any girl to cross my mark."

   "What about me? I have no agency."

   "Agency? What agency…"

   "Free will, to the less literary inclined among us tonight."

   "You soon won't. You might not realize it fully, at first. But… eventually, you will. In a very short time? What you think of as your free will, is going to become an illusion. You, will create this illusion for yourself. Because that's what people do. But… in the end, its the same."

   "Not sure I'm buying that one. If I were to fight you, and I'm not saying I am yet, just pointing out. That? Is the one puzzle piece I would pry up, and… it would only take one weak link and the chain breaks."

   "Okay. Whatever you say. Let me ask you a question. If I may."

   "No, go on, go on. This is… all very fascinating."

   "Is it? Hmm. What… exactly, do you think will happen to you, if I catch you… breaking certain rules I am going to make, do you think."

   "Like, what kinds of rules are we talking about."

   "Well, there's the--- oh, poop. Honey? I'm in my bare feet, and I don't wanna get dirty. Step on a sharp rock. I'm on the blank-y. Would you…"

   "Oh. What do you want. In the car?"

   "Really nowhere else for any of our stuff to be, right?"

   "Good point. What…"

   "I hate to run you, but…"

   I lifted my bare feet up one at a time, and put them down.

   "No. Like its that far away. What."

   "Okay… trunk, but… get the keys, out of the ignition. Then unlock the trunk. I'll tell you…"

   I watched him take the dozen steps to the car. He reached in the open window, snatched the keys out the ignition. Several steps later he was at the trunk, and had the keys in it and it was popped up.

   "Okay…"

   I lifted first one foot, then the other as I spoke again.

   "I hate to get dirty feet, if I don't have to."

   "Trunk, gorgeous…"

   "Thank you. There's a box. You'll see… those lantern thingies? Whole box. Then wait. I'm thinking…"

   "Take your time. Gorgeous."

   "Thanks, you really are such a sweetie pie sometimes, you know that? I just love it."

   "Great. My minor? Is in Sweetie-pie-ism. You know that, right."

   "Ha. That's cute…"

   "And?"

   "You should see… jug of water, jug of some kinda juice. Grab those. Mommy? Packed food, water, juice. Pile of blankets, sleeping bag? Might as well bring those, too."

   I watched him bring it in a pile, and drop it. I was lifting my feet again, alternately, while I spoke again.

   "Oh. Keys, back in the ignition. Please?"

   "Anything else…"

   "No, I don't--- oh, wait. I'm dancing around like a nitwit anyways, right?"

   "You sure are."

   "But am I still moderately gorgeous, while I do it?"

   He looked at me, and I smiled and wiggled my fingers in the air. He smiled back.

   "Thank you for not letting me get my feet dirty. I hate that. You are so sweet. What if you touch my feet, like, a foot rub late tonight for mommy? You want clean feet, right?"

   "Oh yeah. Ugly feet, dirty feet, all bad."

   "Thanks. I want music. For a dancing nitwit. Don't turn the lights on, I can do an hour easy, more like three… without the battery getting bad. I've checked it a million times, I'm good. Just turn the ignition back, so you can… I don't need big volume. Just background."

   "Yeah… what station?"

   "The one all the way to the right. The last one on the passenger's side. That's… the classical, soft station. For background? That's my favorite background."

   I heard the music playing. I did the lifting and looking at my feet thing again.

   "Oh, thank you. Last thing?"

   "And…"

   "Glove box. There's a little box in there, can't miss it."

   "Got it."

   "All right. Just make sure the glove box is closed. Battery. I mean, I know the radio is beating that little light? No sense helping the radio win more."

   "Don't worry. Its closed."

   I was still lifting and lowering my feet, as if inspecting them, once again.

   "You are so sweet. And does a dancing nitwit, have the slightest chance of a foot rub later?"

   "Definite maybe."

   "Ooh baby. Uh… might as well grab the toys on the hood. That's for later, or… whenever. We're gonna eat, if you want."

   He grabbed the whip and the rope for me, and dropped them as well.

   "Thank you. You? Were magnificent. Sit…"

   And, he sat down.

   "Hmm. Now, where were we?"

   "Where was I? I was yammering something about free will… I was also dancing like a nitwit, right?"

   "A gorgeous nitwit. Not a subtle difference."

   "Hmm. You want something to eat? Mommy thought ahead. We can't go driving out to eat, both drinking brandy and get popped by the piggies, can we."

   "No."

   "I'd lose my scholarship. I doubt you'd enjoy it if you were driving."

   "I can think of more fun things to do, than spend the night in jail."

   "I know, right? Hey. I got something for you. I'm pretty sure… but…"

   "What?"

   "The little box, from the glove box? Give…"

   I held out my hand and wiggled my fingers. I took the small box, and moved closer to him, and looked down at him.

   "Oh shit-sky. Brandy? Last thing, I think I promise this time. Oh, don't hate Mommy."

   He was back in seconds, and now the brandy bottle was there as well.

   "I, am not drunk. Little buzz. You said buzzed too."

   "I would say more or less, but its less."

   "You always have to have a pun, or some kind of wordplay, don't you."

   "I try. Its, one of my things."

   "Hmm. Here, open the little box…"

   Standing above him, still naked and all, I handed him down the the box. I idly played with pushing my feet on him. He'd look at me, I'd smile.

   "Oh my. What have we here."

   "Yeah. I have absolutely no idea, how that got in there. Here's a lighter. Now where did that come from, I don't even smoke."

   "How did you know I…"

   "A little green county bird told me. Was the bird lying to me?"

   "That bird, spake the truth."

   "Spake?"

   "Wordplay thingy. Like the bible language?"

   "Gotcha."

   He lit and blew out the hand rolled cigarette. He inhaled deeply, held it, then blew it slowly out his nose. Did it a second time then paused. Then, he looked up at me.

   "What?"

   I didn't even speak, I just snapped my fingers and held my hand out. He passed it to me. He looked at me strangely while I hit it twice, then passed it back. It was the size of a real cigarette in girth and length

   "Stub it out when you're good. We'll finish it later."

   "Yes, mommy."

   "That's a good boy. Now? Sandwiches. A few plates with foil, which we have to peek to see in…"

   We ate. When done, I put the plates and other stuff back in the box, and stood near him again. Once again, idly pushing first one foot, and then the other into him gently.

   "What's with you?"

   I smiled.

   "Nothing. Is it that horrible?"

   "I can live with it, if it does something for you."

   "Great. Cause I had no intention of quitting anyways. How fortunate. So, I was wondering."

   "Yes?"

   "Did you notice, by any chance… that I was still naked?"

   "Yes. I'm getting quite used to it, and I heartily approve, by the way. I may forbid you to wear clothes, when not in public. I'm thinking about it, anyways."

   "Strip."

   "Now?"

   "No, silly. Next week. I'm naked, we've been fucking and playing. You've been checking me out. I wanna see you, too. Fair is fair. I've only seen your butt. I wanna see the rest of my… whatever you are. What am I again, your date?"

   "We are on a date, that works."

   "Oh goody."

   "You're silly now."

   "I know. Ain't it great?"

   "I suppose."

   I knelt down, and approached him on all fours, slowly. My dopey smile on.

   "If I tell you to strip? That indicates I want all your clothes off. For future reference. I mean, seriously now, what man in your position wouldn't want to take his clothes off."    

   I was kneeling next to him, watching him begin to get undressed laying there for me. I suddenly began ripping clothes off. When he started to move, I roughly shoved him back down, and continued to yank them off myself, while I explained it curtly.

   "I said strip. When I say strip, that means the clothes come off now, not later on. And you were undressing. What I'm doing now? That's stripping. The clothes come off as quick as possible. See the difference? Now you know. When I say strip, I mean strip, not something else."

   I put my hand firmly on his chest to keep him down. He could get up if he really wanted to, but he didn't. He had been thinking about coming up on his knees most likely, to be with me. I issued him a curt order.

   "Stay."

   I wanted to see his body finally. Have it laid out for my inspection. Enjoy it some. I ran my hands all over him, feeling him. Fingertips, palms, backs and sides of the hands everywhere slowly. When he moved around too much, I shoved more roughly back down and held him more firmly.

   "Stay! Stay, means remain still. Stay, does not mean you stay for a moment, then you start moving around. You're not being hurt. Not yet, anyways. You would think it would be better to lay still and enjoy this fun part, before the rough stuff comes."

   "Sorry."

   "Not yet, you're not. Sorry comes later. Sorry comes when you have to ask for it, remember?"

   "Yes."

   I grabbed the riding crop, and swung my leg over him so I came to rest sitting up on him. From my knees to my ankles were tucked in against him. Riding him like this, I smiled and sort of menaced him with the riding crop, tapping him very gently on the cheeks. Tapping him lightly on the head. Sometimes pushing it gently but firmly up from under his chin. I interspersed this with running it over any body part I could reach, then back to the remainder.

   "Okay. We're going to have a little talk. Sometimes? This talk will mean I'm doing the talking, and you're doing the listening. Taking notes. Understand that?"

   "Yes."

   "Good. Other times, talking will mean I'll want an answer from you. You'll wait to be asked, then you'll provide the answer. You will not immediately ask another question. When you're asked a question, you answer the question, then you'll close your mouth back up, and go right back to listening. Do you understand this?"

   "Yes."

   "If I don't want a question answered, and I want you to explain something? I'll tell you to explain it. Then, you're allowed to go on doing the explanation, which might even be asking me one or more questions. Understand?"

   "Yes."

   "You will not cut me off. You will not talk over me. You will not correct me. Now. I am not an unreasonable person. You may find at some point that I get something wrong, and you actually need to explain the difference to me. It happens. But, you'll ask politely, and wait for permission to be allowed to explain what you feel you need to. Is that clear?"

   "Yes."

   "All right. I know this might sound mean, its not. I want to have this important little talk, in an orderly fashion. Do you understand the ground rules for our little talk we're about to have?"

   "Yes."

   "Do you think this is mean, or would you agree that its best to have our talk in an orderly fashion. Do you agree?"

   "I agree with you."

   "Great. I will begin. I explained to you, my difficulties. I explained to you, how small my pool of applicants really is, how difficult this is. I realize that might meet the definition of desperate in some way, but in my case, I feel that's unfair. If I was desperate, that would mean I was dropping standard after standard. I'm willing to lower or even eliminate one or more standard or standards, in order to be reasonable. But, I'm not willing to lower or eliminate practically all the standards, in order to simply have someone. So, I'm not desperate. I've been sticking to my guns. Now, this will not get you in any trouble. Do you agree with me, that I'm not desperate, and its something else?"

   "Yes."

   "Thank you. I regret that we have to have this talk this way, I was honestly picturing it going better. There's simply no other way, so here we are. When I ask you a question, do not tell me the answer you think I want to hear. You tell me the truth. You won't get in trouble right now for it. What would get you in trouble right now, or even bigger trouble down the road, would be to sugarcoat something, or try to phrase it so it sounds more acceptable. I want the truth. I expect clear, direct answers. Do I make myself understood?"

   "Yes."

   "Do you really like tall, strong women?"

   "Yes."

   "A tomboy is a girl that isn't a girly girl in one, or more, or even many ways. If she has enough characteristics that aren't girly girly, we use the word tomboy. Tomboy does not mean gay or bi. A tomboy still likes only men. Example. The girl that wears jeans and T shirts, and rides a dirt bike with the boys instead of playing with dolls, and might even keep up with those boys in the pack of dirt bikes. Do you understand what tomboy means here?"

   "Yes."

   "You like tall, strong girls. Do you also like tomboys."

   "Yes. A lot."

   "Do you like tall strong girls more than dainty girls? Be honest. Its perfectly all right to find both attractive, so don't lie to me. Do you like the big girls more than the dainty girls?"

   "Yes."

   "Now then. When did you start to notice that you liked tomboys, and found tall, strong women attractive? Estimate from what age."

   "As far back as I can remember."

   "You really like watching women's Olympics? Because you like seeing those kinds of girls."

   "Yes."

   "Other women's sports? Always because you found them attractive."

   "Yes."

   "How about female bodybuilders."

   "Not all."

   "Here's your first chance, to explain something. Explain the difference between the female bodybuilders you like, versus the ones you don't like. Go. Be truthful and honest."

   "Okay. The face, the hair, has to be… feminine. A crew cut, or a weird face, ruins an otherwise perfect one. I can't explain it, but, some of even the biggest and most cut ones? There's still something very feminine about the body. If I put my hand over the body, and see just the face and hair? its still pretty and feminine."

   "Hmm. Okay. I understand that. Question. Do you find one more attractive over another one, simply because she's bigger or more cut? You can add an explanation, if you wish."

   "No. The taller, or the bigger, or the more cut one? Is not automatically the most attractive one. Sometimes the shorter or lighter weight class one is way cuter."

   "Does this sudden interrogation about lady bodybuilders, and all the essay answers, leave you wondering why I am concentrating on this subject so thoroughly? Be honest. You're permitted to explain."

   "I'm scratching my head on this one."

   "I believe you. You just made mommy very happy. I'm very pleased with you right this second, did you know that?"

   "No."

   "Well, I am. Would you like to know what you just told me, that made me so happy?"

   "Yes. Very much."

   "You, just find tall, strong girls attractive, that's all. You aren't a… amazon fetish person."

   "Can…"

   I stuck the riding crop a bit more firmly up under the chin, and gave him a firm look.

   "Would you like to ask a question?"

   "Yes…"

   "The proper way to ask a question, politely, is to say please. Try it again."

   "Please."

   "Do it that way for the remainder of this talk. Yes?"

   "Can I please ask a question."

   "Yes. Go ahead."

   "I understand, there's a difference. Would you tell me what the difference was, how it came out of what I said? Please."

   "Hmm. Okay. The fetish weirdos, always pick the taller bodybuilder over the shorter one. The thicker or more muscular one, over the smaller one. The more ripped one, over the softer and more rounded one. For them size is as important, or even more important, than the feminine features. Does this answer your question?"

   "Yes."

   I reached back and gave him a hard single whack with the crop. It ended up landing somewhere back on a thigh, I didn't care where it really landed. Then I smiled.

   "Just a gentle suggestion, to say thank you. Now. Let's practice it again. Does this answer your question?"

   "Yes. Thank you."

   I ran the riding crop around him and touched his face with it. I wore my hard look I had used for his little correction, then softened into a smile as I firmly pushed up from under the chin.

   "You're welcome. In general, you're not under risk of punishment, before I've explained something to you. After I've suggested something, though? I expect my suggestion to be followed. Now. Once I explained to use please, doesn't it really seem logical, that thank you should go right in without being told?"

   I reached back without looking, smiling, as I gave him several notably harder whacks, before returning it back to under his chin.

   "It would be polite, to say thank you. So, we'll try that again."

   I reached back giggling, and he got perhaps twice as many, harder yet, randomly landing on the outside of that thigh somewhere.

   "Thank you."

   "You're welcome."

   I studied him some, smiling, before I held the crop out to the side, and ceremoniously dropped it.

   "That? Is my indication to you, that I want you to to feel under no obligation to… color the answers to sound better. Be honest. Honesty here, is way more important than trying to please me. Is that clear?"

   "Yes."

   "Okay. Don't get too free with your little yap, or forget your manners so quickly, either. Its right there for me to pick up and use, whenever I feel the need. Understand that suggestion?"

   "Yes. Thank you."

   "Good. Very good, actually."

   I indicated to him with my open palm pointing at him, cocking my head and smiling, prompting him.

   "Thank you, thank you very much."

   "All right. When you're given a compliment, its polite to say thanks. Now then. Onto the honesty counts for more than anything else questions. You will not be punished for how you answer the questions, as long as its honesty. You could obviously get punished for how, but not for what you say. Be nice, but be completely open and honest. Is that in any way unclear?"

   "Very clear."

   "Now then. You find girls that look like me, surprisingly attractive. That much is clear to me. I'm flattered. I'm very flattered, I'm… beside myself. You make me feel very, very lucky to have found a boy I find attractive and I'm attracted to, that has this. Do… you feel at all lucky to have found me?"

   "Yes. Very, very lucky. You have no idea."

   I smiled warmly, and caressed his cheeks gently.

   "Shh. You don't have to go overboard. You really like me, don't you."

   "Yes. Very much."

   "Thank you."

   "You're welcome."

   "Hmm. I already know without asking, that you like to get swats. Now, be honest. There will be no punishment of any kind, for saying no to this one. What I am doing right now, the way I'm doing it. Do you like it?"

   "Yes. Its… fun."

   "Fun, like you enjoy the swats?"

   "Yes."

   "This doesn't have to be a thing, what I'm doing right now. I don't even know what to call this right now. I figured this would make the conversation easier and quicker. We had misunderstandings, hurt feelings, in both directions. We both got one or more wrong ideas, we both accidentally said the wrong things, and the other took it the wrong way. I'm doing this, this way, to eliminate that. I need you to understand that. I'm not doing this to have fun doing it, although it is fun for me. Now. Let's get into the… muddy part and clear the water up. Okay?"

   "Yes. Thank you."

   "All right. I don't want you getting the impression, that I think of you as any kind of a… male cheerleader groupie, at all. I don't think of you like that. My feelings? There's a piece of glass laying in the alley, and me and the other girls were walking past it every day back and forth to school, and not giving it a second thought. I started to notice it glimmered. I picked it up, and looked at it. Huh. I feel like I went around asking about it, and eventually found out its actually a very valuable uncut diamond. I feel very, very lucky to have noticed it, and very lucky that I figured out what it is. I need you to understand this. Do you believe me? I'm not mad if you don't, and I'm… perfectly willing to… go though some period of… probation or something, in order for you to decide I'm telling you the truth. If you're unsure, that's fine, admit it. But I'm asking if you believe me."

   "I believe you."

   "Really? You don't have any lingering suspicions, that I'm just trying to pick out a groupie, and make them feel special, like… a football jock sweeping a cheerleader off her feet, only for her to find out she was being played."

   "I believe you. You seem sincere."

   "I am. Now, I won't lie to you. I'm a girl. There are some parts of me that are very feminine. One of those things? Is a girl wanting a boy. Every girl wants to be able to get boys, just like you boys want to be able to get girls. Now, most people, value their partner based on how high their peers rate them on their catch. Very few people, don't. I'm one of those people. I think its silly, that the other girls, and by other girls I mean the sports girls, superficially find you more than attractive enough to take an interest in you? Then magically get turned off, when they discover that you're smart, you're eccentric, and a computer god or whatever. That, in and of itself? Doesn't bother me one bit. From day one. If that was the only thing, we might have been having this conversation a ways back. Okay?"

   "Yes. Thank you very, very much."

   "You're welcome. Now then. Most girls, definitely do get turned off by nice guys. They whine they can't find a nice guy that will treat them with respect and kindness, then every time they get a hold of one? They drop them quick, with this oh, he's too nice bullshit. I'm not like that, I don't believe in that shit, and honest to god when I read women's magazines? I'm yelling who in the hell writes this shit, its retarded. Yeah, I could sit with the guys and the old men somewhere, and bitch like I know men do about that crap. Feminism and feminists can suck a fart out of my ass, as far as I'm concerned. Ask anyone, I call women's magazines? Retard Monthly."

   "Thank you."

   "Now. Just so you know I'm being truthful with you? Here we go. If I was trying to butter you up or sugarcoat things, I would skip this. But, I demanded honesty? I'm giving it back to you. I was starting to get somewhat interested in you, like I said, a ways back. I won't lie. I don't fall for the jerk asshole routine, that all the other girls do. I tell them, and their jerks, to their faces at the drop of a hat? This isn't a bad boy, this isn't a tough guy… this is an asshole that just runs his mouth and acts up. I ain't impressed one bit. Now, that doesn't mean I'm not turned on by an actual… masculine man. I am. The difference though, is I don't fall for that act. Here's me being truthful. I was turned off by the… I'll just say it. The reputation of being a sissy. Now, under no threat of any punishment, of any kind? Say or explain what you want."

   "I don't care. If being quiet, polite. Considerate or thoughtful, makes me unattractive or… too nice? Then I'm not interested in that girl anyways. She's half shallow and the other half stupid. I don't care what other men, or women, think. And as far as the pecking order macho boy bullshit routine goes. Real tough guys, I mean actual trained fighters? Don't get their ego hurt by being called a pussy, or any of that shit. Anyone in it for an ego boost? Has the wrong attitude. Its pretty rare for me to take the bait. I don't get… a big man feeling? If I win a fight. I feel the same as I did before it happened. If I can avoid a fight, simply by saying word X? I say it. I think you saw in the video? I don't have anything to prove, do I."

   I smiled. I rubbed my hands on his cheeks, and I blushed. I ended up lowering myself down to lay on him, and gave him slow, wet, sloppy kisses for a little bit, before putting my palms on his shoulders and returning myself back to my upright riding position. I sighed before continuing.

   "Will you forgive me?"

   "For…"

   "I'm ashamed. To have to admit it, but… I was attracted to you. Noticed you. Then, I found out, what. You were too smart? I was willing to overlook being too smart as some kind of fault? I'm an idiot. I claim I want a smart man, and I'm put off by one. Then, the pushover thing? Yeah. I was willing to overlook that, too. Which was another big sin on my part. But, my biggest sin, that I'm… going to actually beg your forgiveness for? Was… I'm ashamed to admit, that when I found those videos, because I was intrigued by the weird story I heard… yeah. I heard the story, all of a sudden I'm interested again. Then I saw the videos? I… got wet. There, I admit it. I'm… no better than all the other dippy girls, I thought I was better than. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to forgive me for that right away, or, if you didn't forgive me at all for that. I'm sorry."

   "Its fine."

   "I'm… forgiven? You don't hold it against me."

   "Its fine."

   I smiled, I blushed, and I came back down and went back to the slow, wet, sloppy kiss routine. Shushing him, cooing, begging for forgiveness. Admitting I didn't deserve it, and thanking him for being so sweet and understanding. I promised, in lurid detail, to make it up to him and to please him in bed. It took me a while to compose myself, and to try unblushing and regain my… whatever I was doing back again.

   "Thank you. Very. Very. Much."

   "You're very welcome."

   "Hmm. You? Are really something. So…"

   Trying to think how to do it, I tapped his chest idly while I figured out how to approach the next one. Fuck it.

   "We're dating. But… I don't know how to ask it. If I should ask if you would take me as your girlfriend, or if you want to be my boyfriend, or which. So, will you… have me? Can… we try it? Please? I'll… beg some, if I have to. I'm… not above it right now. Please… I promise you, I'll… you know. Do these things you like. I promise, I won't start turning it into a birthday and Christmas only thing. You have my word on that. Trust me, I'm… very naughty, and can potentially get naughtier. If that sweetens the deal. Pretty please, will you at least think about it? I swear by all that's holy, I'll try to be a good girlfriend, I promise. I'll… I swear, you'll never have to worry about me, you know, running around, or… having side fun. I honestly don't believe in that. Ask around, I don't have a bread crumb trail of guys in my wake, ask anyone. I'm choosy, I don't sleep around even when I'm single… I swear. Please, will you at least think about it?"

   I felt silly, and was blushing bad and I knew it. Sitting there on him, biting my lower lip, biting my thumb, looking I suppose for all the world like any other dippy girl for once. I hated it, but I wanted something, and this was the only way to get it.

   "Yes. Please."

   "Really? You, don't want time to think about it?"

   "Yes. Please."

   I naturally at this point fell into yet another routine of lowering myself down onto him, again the wet sloppy kisses in slow motion. I ended up going with a few doggy licks up his face, then some neck kissing and biting. Then, back and forth among these things. My hand went from palms on cheeks, to roaming naughty hands, then back up again. I finally slowed it all down to extremely slow kissing, with me barely moving around a little, palms on his cheeks. I stayed at that point for quite some time. I went through a litany of little shushes and thank you's, before ending with my wet lips on his ear. I gave him one of the naughty bedtime stories he seemed to have enjoyed so much.

   "Hmm. You are so lucky, mister. Because if this didn't work? I was going to have to resort to much harsher techniques to get you to say yes. This was very important to me, and I was willing to do anything to get my way. I was prepared to tie you up. Completely helpless. Not nice, rope so tight it burns and digs in. Painful to move, and even painful from being too tight just sitting there. The kind of tied up, that the next day your wrists and ankles would have all those pitiful little rope bruises showing. And that's nothing. The whipping would have been simply forever. Tears, screaming, just for a start, before we really got down to business and I really gave it to you good. Oh yeah, until you said yes, pffft. We're talking until you agreed to beg and plead to be my property. Then, make you ask officially, when it was over. Kneeling at my feet, face on my feet, begging. And who knows, maybe even another whipping after that one. So you got my message loud and clear, that you belong to me, and that's all there is to it. But, you said yes, so… we get to avoid all that unpleasantness."

   Then I sat up, smiling. I slid down a little, to check his interest level. The interest meter was quite up, leaking. I smiled and flicked it, to watch it bob around a little, showing the leakage.

   "Someone sure does like their naughty bedtime stories, I can see that."

   "Thank you. Very, very, much."

   "You're welcome. Now. As fun as this part ended up…"

   I picked up the riding crop again laying there waiting, and held it aloft, before going back to running it over him, as I had been doing before.

   "We? Have to now establish ground rules. Some of these won't really apply to you. I mean they apply to you, believe you me, but what I mean by they don't really apply to you, is that I don't picture you pulling that shit. But."

   Whip up under the chin firmly.

   "Ask mommy nice, to explain some ground rules to you."

   "Will you please, explain the rules to me?"

   "Very good. Why yes, I would be delighted. I thought you'd never ask. So. We already know the most important rule, which is of course that our naughty little secret? Is our secret. Do not share this secret with anyone. I am not going to be made a fool of, all over campus, people pointing at the circus freak, made into a laughing stock. You won't get punished, you'll get immediately kicked to the curb, and there will be no more me and you. You already know that one? Bears repeating. People talk about setting boundaries up front? That's a huge one. I don't have any really strict rules on sharing or not sharing other stuff, but use some common sense and discretion. I would prefer that everyone at the bar or the coffee shop or wherever the hell you hang out at? Not know all our personal sexual details. This rule? Non negotiable. I intend to have a degree or degrees one day, and work in offices and be a professional. Not going to be the circus freak, trying to be taken seriously. Understand this rule? Yes or no. Speak."

   "Yes."

   "Good. Promise me, that you understand this rule. Its very important."

   "I promise."

   I leaned back and did the hard, random outer thigh crack. I must have landed on another earlier one, because he made a slight wince. Whatever.

   "Great, you promise. What exactly, are you promising. Explain it properly what you're promising to, so we're crystal clear on this rule."

   Another hard swat.

   "Ah. I promise, I promise I understand this rule. I promise I won't ever tell."

   Another harder swat.

   "Not good enough. You won't ever tell what?"

   Another hard one.

   "Ah. I promise, I understand the rule, I will never, ever tell anyone our naughty little secret. I promise, I swear."

   Another good one.

   "Not bad. Again."

   He went through it slightly different. We went through this several more times, before the swats got really hard, and got to be several at a time, between each "again" request.

   "And that? Will have to do for now. Not bad. You get the basic idea. We'll be going over this rule quite frequently, until I'm sure you have it committed to memory. Mommy was nice, in not going into further detail about how important this rule is. Do we need to go over this much more thoroughly? Not a problem. We can cover this quite in depth, if there's anything you're fuzzy on. Or are we crystal clear about this. Speak."

   Another now routine random outer thigh smack.

   "Where's the politeness? Thank mommy, for explaining this so nicely. Because otherwise, I will have to assume you don't appreciate nice, and we can go over this rule the much longer, much more uncomfortable way. Your choice."

   He thanked me profusely, amid several more swats.

   "Okay. This one shouldn't even need to be a rule, but. You will not be running around on me. There's this shit where the guy cheats, gets caught, then there's the arguing and then the makeup sex? Fuck that shit. I personally don't think you'll do this? So don't take it personal. I see this shit all over. It just happened, my fucking ass. It was an accident? Bullshit. You don't accidentally fall down and your cock lands in a strange twat, I ain't buying that shit. Some of the other girls, due to a short supply of guys for us, are forgiving this shit, and they're passing the guys around. Not me. I been doing without long enough, that I'd rather go back to doing without, than forgiving the unforgivable. Not doing it, don't ever ask, don't ever try. You understand this rule? Indicate you both understand, and agree. Then promise it. Go."

   There was another round of swats, and "again", swats and "again", until I was sure I made my point about that one. Then, another series of fairly hard ones, and we went through the thanking for explaining it the nice way, and exactly what we were promising not to ever try. Satisfied, I moved on.

   "Now then. You listen to me, and you listen good. Again, not saying this is you? Don't take it personal. Part two of this once again, monumentally important rule. If you ever do manage to trip, and your cock lands in a strange twat? You had better be smart enough to just cut your losses and go. Because, I swear to god and by all that's holy. If you're making the rounds of the girls, and I find out, and you haven't left? Oh, my, god. What you will be in for. You, will think you're getting tied up all helpless for standard naughty bedtime fun? And boy, will you be in for a surprise. You'll get kicked to the curb, after I'm done working you over. Don't speak yet, there's more."

   "Now then. There's a thing, they call it prior selection. You might have noticed, when a guy has a steady girl, more so when married. Their options suddenly open right the fuck up. Why? Women are retarded cunts most of them, and they read Retards Monthly magazine. Here's the deal. Once everyone in my circle sees I place high value on you, and I do. That? All of a sudden makes your stock quote jump. Because if another girl claims a guy, he must be a quality guy. That's how the guy makes the rounds of the girl's friends. Do not fall for this shit. Don't speak, there's a third part."

   "How do you handle it, if or when it might happen? Easy. You have two choices, when a girl hits on you. Option A. You ignore it and move on. Option B? You come and tell me. I'll handle it. Either way works for me. Now, I somewhat prefer to be told, although that's your choice, no penalty for ignoring it. But, if you come and tell me. Show me the text or whatever? You'll be greatly rewarded. Mommy rewards loyalty, most women simply demand loyalty and take it for granted. Not me. We're talking breakfast in bed level of treatment here. Don't speak, another part."

   I calmed down, and somewhat dropped the level of the mom tone a couple notches. I dropped the whip like before, and put my palms affectionately on his chest.

   "Look honey. I'm not a jealous and possessive crazy woman. I want to reward good behavior. If you show me loyalty? I will constantly and consistently reward it. You'll see, there's a whole laundry list of retarded shit, that all women are known for, you will not have to put up with. Your guy friends will be jealous. I will not talk down to you, or order you around, trying to impress the girls. I see this all the time. The girls all get bragging, how under their thumb their man is, how he knows better than to open his mouth? So, they all have to try to show off and outdo each other, to back their bullshit up. Then? They wonder why their guy is cheating! These retards browbeat their man in front of their friends and take him for granted. Then a friend will remind the guy how he's treated. Oh, she treats you so horribly, she doesn't appreciate you, you don't deserve to be treated that bad… boy would I show you how nice it is to be appreciated… come here and give me a kiss. Wait to speak, almost done."

   I sighed, and shrugged.

   "Look. I think I got most of the stuff all the guys complain about all the same things? You won't get out of me. You know that period bullshit? Nope. That, is made up bratty bullshit, I'm a woman and I can say it. There's no excuse for being a cunt every 28 days, and the period's the excuse. Money and finances? Non issue. I don't want or expect anything. I don't want a guy, because its financially advantageous to have one. I just want you. Not your wallet. I want to spend time with you. I want someone that looks forward to curling up on the couch and watching a movie with me."

   I picked up the crop, and dropped it again immediately.

   "That? Is a toy. For sexy fun time. I can't make you do things, or prevent you from doing them. I ask that you come talk to me about anything, especially us. You don't need advice on how to handle me. You don't need… this sure fire plan that always works, to get her to do X. You wanna go fishing or hunting? Go. You wanna buy yourself a major purchase? You don't need to ask me. Example? Some girl is showing off her new phone she got that her guy bought her. He bought himself something expensive? She somehow used that as leverage she could use a new phone, and its way less than he spent on himself. She knows my thoughts on the matter. When she bragged to me how sly she is? I told her she's a gold digger, how does she think this makes her look good. If you give having me as a girlfriend half a chance? I think, in a short time, you'll see I'm not whistling Dixie."

   I smiled as warmly as I could, and patted his chest.

   "So, in all seriousness. Does this sound like a good deal?"

   "Yes. It does."

   "Thank you. I think? I hope, anyways. You know how growing up poor, makes a person appreciate a job and money and they don't waste what they finally have? I'm hoping that going through my thing, will make me appreciate a guy that actually thinks I'm gorgeous. I think a lot of people make these same speeches, then they don't see bad habits they pick up from their friends creeping in over time. If you see something like that happening, bring it up. Don't cheat. Don't tell our secret. From what I've seen and heard about you, as far as I know? Just keep being you, and I'll be happy to have you spend your time with me. Okay?"

   "Thank you."

   "You're welcome."

   I shook my hair, and picked the whip up, and dangled it like a pendulum.

   "Do you… really like the whole… this routine?"

   "Its hot. I'm pretty sure those drips got worse that you saw last time you checked."

   I "checked", he wasn't wrong, then I slid back up to my riding seat.

   "You know how I got wet from giving swats?"

   "Oh yeah."

   "You can check if you don't take my word for it."

   "Ooh."

   "Now. Wanna ask you something. Be honest."

   "Yes."

   "My intention? Was to schedule you for 40. Hard ones, tied still. You… added 10 at a time here and there, and then the whole tab got up to 70, 80 then 100. That? Is quite a tall order, little boy. We should talk about that one."

   "What's there to talk about?"

   "Are you… trying to impress me, trying to make me as wet as a leaky faucet?"

   "Yes. From what I felt before, I'm trying to imagine how much you'll enjoy it."

   "I don't think you need told, there's people that are dominant in the bedroom, and submissive in the bedroom. I'm pretty sure, we don't need to sort that one out, do we."

   "Pretty sure we know who's who."

   "Yeah. You… look. Me getting 100 hard, tied? That, is a… fantasy swatting. Something I would expect in, an erotic novel. Not something I ever in my life dreamed, that I could get. That sounds more like a naughty bedtime story, than something I should be getting spoiled with. Are you sure, you want to try something like that? That's…"

   "If you think you'll enjoy it."

   "Oh yeah. Without question there."

   "Can you?"

   I smiled as wickedly as I could, and nodded yes, that I certainly could.

   "You seriously haven't tried anything like this before?"

   He shook his head no, that he hadn't.

   "Well…"

   I picked up the whip and lifted his chin with it, my stern bedroom persona was back.

   "Now then. Let's have another little talk, shall we."

   "Yes."

   A hard random thigh shot went out.

   "Yes please."

   I gave him several more.

   "Again."

   "Yes please, yes please."

   "Much better. Now then. You will be getting 100 strokes with this whip. On your bare ass. Do you understand that?"

   "Yes."

   "Good. Doesn't really matter though, because if you don't understand? You soon will. Trust me."

   "I understand."

   "I don't think that there's any way you could sit still for this, so you'll get tied up tight for it. Do you understand that?"

   "Yes."

   "Excellent. Your little mouth is going to be gagged nice and tight. You will not be able to tell me to stop, so feel free to try. I'll just hear some more… mm mm mm, that sounds like all the rest of the whiny shit you'll soon be putting through you. Got that?"

   "Yes."

   "Moving right along then. You felt light. You then felt medium. I gave you a teeny taste test, so you knew what hard felt like. You got 5 hard, so you knew what you'd be getting into. There's also an extra hard, the last of the 5 was one. Here's how this is going to go. You ready to hear it?"

   "Yes."

   "You'll get these five at a time. Four hard, the fifth one extra hard. For the original 40. That was what your sample was? That's how they'll go. That, leaves 60 more. I'm going to give you the next 30, one after another. Every fifth one? Will be that extra hard one that made you dance. They'll come in at the normal speed of the original 40. That? Leaves the last 30. That, will be mommy's special treat for you. I'm going to give you those last 30? Fast. All extra hard. Is this understood?"

   "Yes."

   "Marvelous. You'll be fairly guaranteed to cry. This ride only stops in an emergency, and crying is no emergency. Is that understood, little boy."

   "Yes."

   "You need to understand, that you crying? Is an understatement. You are going to be a hot mess, before we're done. Screaming, crying, having the snot beat out of you. When we're completed with your punishment, you'll be a blubbering mess. I would untie you and let you go, so you could lay there in a puddle of tears more comfortably, but… mommy has plans for you, that you need to stay tied for, so… when you're done? You can lay there all helpless and tied up, crying your little eyes out, as long as it takes you to get the annoying whiny shit out of your system, you got that?"

   "Yes…"

   "Well, you better. Don't expect me to feel sorry for you, and don't think that giving me the sad puppy got punished eyes will get you anything, except some more for even trying it. You'll lay face down, with your I guarantee you, your highly marked up ass, up and showing so I can admire my handiwork. You? Will be face down, on my feet, waiting for your whiny shit to go away. When you finally get your whiny shit under control? You'll be begging my forgiveness, for making me punish you. You got all that?"

   "Yes."

   "Great. When all that's done? Not going anywhere, anytime soon. You will remain tied up, nice and helpless, because Mommy's twat is going to be soaked. On account of I get off on smacking naughty little boy's asses just like yours. The more tears, the more screaming and crying? The hotter and the wetter I get. I'm getting a nice, long twat licking. Its going to take a while, so get comfortable. You? Will be getting instructed, on exactly how I like that task performed. This, will involve an extra hard swat now and then, on an already injured backside, which will probably keep you crying into my twat most or all of the time. Just gonna make it hotter for me, so plan on it. Pretty sure, your little ass is going to hurt so bad? That any extra hard swat, just one? Will bring fresh tears, and fresh sobbing. Enjoy it. When we're done with that? You will once again have your sad little face on my feet, begging my forgiveness once again. You'll get no pity from me, for being punished severely. Want to know why?"

   "Yes…"

   "Because light swats, did nothing. You did it again. Medium swats did again, nothing. You did it a third time. Defying me. Daring me. You will soon find out? You do not defy me, you obey me. You do not dare me, you beg me. You better learn this quick? Or things just like this, or even worse, will keep happening. You? Were scheduled for 40 hard and tied. That? Was an appropriate amount to introduce you to the idea of being punished. That, wasn't good enough for you. To be treated nice, with some respect for your poor little ass. Don't speak. I'm not done."

   "What did you do? You took me light. You were told to answer me quickly, you didn't. Ten more. I don't care, was what I heard. I don't care, I don't care, with every 10 more, that you apparently thought I wouldn't do? You're about to find out how wrong you were, because not only will I follow through and give you exactly what I promise you? I'll enjoy it. We'll see if you take me light after this. We'll see what kind of a sass mouth I get after this. We'll see if you need reminded to be polite after this. I think this is going to fix a number of things, very quickly. I'm very disappointed in you right now, and you're about to find out what goes on when that happens. Nothing good, I can promise you."

   "All right. Hand me those bandannas, and give me the rope. Its time for you to get taught a very serious lesson. And I'm not only not going to feel sorry for you? I'm going to laugh. I don't care, huh? We're going to see if you care or not, after we get done here. Now. Don't look at me. Face down. Move it. Wrists together, behind your back. You give me the slightest trouble getting you ready, pulling away, trying to bargain your way out of this? I dare you to try it. You do that? I'll finish it, then I'll start all over again, and repeat the entire thing. Try me."

   I knelt over his hips and he held his wrists together for me to rope him nice and tight, uncomfortably tight. The thought of the rope burned and rope bruised wrists the next morning, made me hot too. I left half of the long rope dangling off his wrists, and cut it off after the knot. I used that length to repeat the procedure on his ankles, again tight enough to ensure the rope bruises and burn marks the next morning, which I would have fun teasing him about when he noticed them. I used the bandannas to make a nice, tight gag that was secure and bandannas filled up his mouth inside. They were held in by the final one wrapping around, that got knotted tightly around his head.

   I then sat beside him, and waited. Every time he made the slightest wiggle, I swatted the back of a thigh and told him to keep still. Eventually I started.

   Working with the scheduled five at a time pace, four hard and fifth extra hard, I worked my way with a little break in between each five, until I got to 20.

   "That? Was what the original thing was supposed to have been. That was all I had planned for you, to very nicely introduce you to the idea of there being consequences for breaking my rules. But that wasn't good enough for you, was it. Oh no, you ended up with extras. Wouldn't sit still. Wouldn't keep the hands on the hood. Well, since you asked for them, you can enjoy the next 20, because you asked for it."

   I repeated the first 20, the exact same way. I had significant wiggling, and attempted rolling away by the end of the first 20. I made fun of it, asked where he thought he was going, explained what helpless meant. Tears started near the end of the first 20, and the tears were flowing freely by the time the second 20 were over. Little gag whines that were the hallmark of the first 20, turned into squeals and other noises by the end of the second. Sobbing freely began right around the time the 40 were ending.

   "See? 20, like I wanted for you? Would have been nice. No, you had to dance around, lift your hand, all that? So here we are at 40. Crying and blubbering already. What do you think the next 60 we have left are going to be, huh? The next 30, are going to come in with no breaks in between every five. You'll have time to think about listening to me next time, when I tell you hey, maybe this isn't a good idea. I don't care, huh? Well, this is what comes from not caring. The next 30 is what comes from that kind of sass. Enjoy it. Its what you asked for."

   The next 30 as a set with no breaks, produced significant attempts at rolling. I ended up yanking the wrists up higher, to stop it. I had to sling one of my muscular legs over his knees, to keep the position steady. The screaming and crying and sobbing were something else, and I couldn't help laughing, and imitating it to taunt him. I also asked him where he thought he was going every time a fresh rolling away movement was prevented. Every fifth extra hard shot, produced a change in gagged scream quality.

   "Why would you make me do this to you. Why you would sass me and say you didn't care, I have no idea. Seem like a bright plan now? I bet it seems like a little bit less of a good idea, than when you did it, huh. Sorry now? I bet. Well, you're about to get even more sorry. Last 30 coming right up, and these are 30 fast ones. All extra hard. One after another. This? Is definitely going to teach you a nice little lesson in manners, and about sassing me when I'm trying to give you a polite suggestion."

   I sat astride his legs, just above his knees to securely hold him for these. Roped wrists yanked up tight. Rolling and wiggling were impossible now, and I told him about it. I brought the whip down about as hard as I could from over my head, down onto the ass cheeks that dipped in with the impacts, and bubbled back up. Right left, right left. Fast, hard, accurate shots. The screaming, hitching and heaving, and sobbing and streams of tears were nothing short of epic.

   When I was done, I stood up and walked around him, admiring my work. I was so turned on, my upper inner thighs were coated with my own grease leaking out. I went and got the water jug and sat down in front of his head on the blanket, my knees drawn up under my chin. I placed his sobbing, gagged face on the tops of my feet. I had a few sips of water, and sat patiently for the whole whining and crying show to start to die down. I took a napkin, and wet it… then another napkin and wet it, and placed each gently over a well marked up ass cheek.

   "There. That's the end of my sympathy. You get what you ask for. Don't ask for it? This won't happen. Next time, maybe you'll think twice about not listening. About not caring. And? You better get this boring whiny shit under control soon, or you just might get something to cry for."

   I was speaking softly, and matter of fact. I sipped water now and again, as I waited for the screaming and louder crying to quit. It took a while, and I patiently waited while he cried his little eyes out on the tops of my feet he rested his head on. When the louder stuff was down to a dull roar, I told him I was going to take the gag off but he had better make a much better effort to control the loud stuff, or it would go right back in. That then he would get more of the same, for not obeying me telling him to quiet down. I smiled because I knew that there was no stopping it. I knew that his attempts to stifle it just made for intermittent pent up outbursts, that were somewhat amusing to watch him desperately attempt to get under control.

   When the louder stuff was finally under control, there was just the occasional outbursts of littler streams of tears and puckering and sobbing. Since his hands were tied, wiping his nose occasionally was the extent of my sympathy displays. I finally did what I figured was the most humiliating thing to my helpless tied victim, and I directed him to "blow" into the napkin over his nose, like a mom caring for a toddler. He kept his eyes off me and closed in embarrassment, then his face went right back onto the tops of my feet where they stayed for quite a while longer, until the outbursts were complete. Sure, the occasional sobs wracked and the occasional hitches in breathing came and went, but it was much less annoying now.

   When it was finally all over I told him to kiss and lick my feet clean, and I didn't get any arguments. He kissed and licked the tops of my feet, until he was told he was done. After some further resting time like that, I started in on calmly explaining what the punishment was for. How the next time when I politely suggested that 40 was a better idea, he should heed my friendly advice because I was only looking out for his best interests.

   I patiently explained that I was very disappointed in particular by the I don't care attitude and statements and that he had better start caring immediately. After another short break, we went into the apology phase, which was the same except he did the talking, with my comments and apology shaping ideas. All suggestions were immediately wonderful ideas, and followed to the letter.

   "Now. I know you're sorry, but you're not in any way forgiven yet. Remain where you are, and start begging me for my forgiveness. This is a very important part of your punishment, and I advise you to take begging for my forgiveness? Very, very seriously, little boy. If I am not pleased with the manner in which my forgiveness is begged? I might grow impatient and decide a little more punishment is in order. I strongly suggest it be sincere, and that I believe it. You can begin now. Don't just repeat the same lame shit over and over. You better move around in your begging, in order to find just the right spot to touch in me. When you've been finally forgiven? You'll know, because I'll tell you that you've been forgiven. And you better take this seriously. Begin now, and don't stop until you're told to stop, or else."

   After an actually random amount of time, which was when I got bored and wanted to move onto the next thing really out of novelty? I told him he could now stop, that he had my forgiveness, and that he should consider himself lucky to actually be forgiven.

   "And now, since you've been forgiven? We can make up. Would you like to kiss and make up with mommy?"

   "Yes."

   "Before we kiss and make up, since you've been forgiven? I need one more thing. The entire time we're kissing and making up? I expect you to be thanking me for punishing you. I want to hear all about how much you enjoy getting your swats. How its you favorite thing. How lucky you think you are, to have found someone who shares what you enjoy. I expect to be congratulated on a job well done, making sure you learn to behave as well as I think you might behave now. You can feel free to add in, how well you'll behave for me from now on. Make sure you tell me how well you understand why correcting you is needed. Leave nothing to chance, in being nice to me. If you're not sweet and polite about this, in any way whatsoever? You can imagine what might happen, and don't test my patience. This is to be taken as seriously as anything else. Its very important to me that you acknowledge that I feel you like the things that I do for you, that you have trouble finding anywhere. Never forget, that without me in your life? You don't get the things you like so much, so be thankful you have me. Now, go on and tell me all about it, while we very slowly and over time, kiss and make up."

    I couldn't have him lay on his back, not only because his hands were tied but mainly because of his now well injured ass. I laid on my side next to him, and gently rolled him on his side enough, that we could kiss and make up. I kissed him slowly and sweetly, and told him to make sure he behaved from now on. Being thanked now to no end, for punishing him was a new thrill too. I hadn't planned on enjoying this as long as I did, but I kept extending it and enjoying it, and hearing it from his lips how much he enjoyed and needed me.

   Eventually, I told him we were all done, but he still had duties to perform. I had him lay with his face where it needed to be, and directed the action and experimented around until I found what was the best licking experience I've ever enjoyed before. It took no small amount of time, and I coated his face with my moistness, and wiped myself on his face as needed. I had originally planned on giving swats with every change in command during this licking phase, but the poor state of his ass cheeks seemed to preclude it. I found that simply suggesting anything at all though, produced spectacular results. He had a new found enthusiasm for hanging on my every word.

   When I was satisfied, and by satisfied I mean of course satisfied more than one time, I told him he had done a spectacular job and that I appreciated it, and that I was very happy with him for learning how to please me so well that way. I untied him, and reminded him it was time for me to get a lengthy full body massage, starting with a foot rub then moving all over, and restarting all over again and again.

   Oh god, this was heaven. In the middle of this quite lengthy procedure, I added in the concept of a tongue bath. Somehow the moisture went in with the body massage. The only place I told him to avoid was the bottoms of my feet and my toes, but not to miss the tops, where he lays his head. I laid there in rapture. The process was repeated over and over. Foot rub, followed by each leg rub, one after another. A short hand rub, then arm rubs. I gently rolled over, then he did the backs of the legs, then the neck and shoulders, ending with a short back rub. I asked for a tiny butt rub last. Right before he asked if it was time to start again, I told him yes but would he pause a second.

   I practically blushed when he immediately stopped, and started all but softly begging and pleading. Gushing, was it all being done right, begging for another chance to do them all better, would I please allow him another chance to try. My face went darker red as I let him continue a little bit and I got a slight moisture down there from it. This was a guilty pleasure I was enjoying and I'm almost ashamed to admit it that I enjoyed it. The begging and whining, would I please not punish him for not doing it good enough touched me. I knew what I had just done to his ass, hell, I was the one who had done it to him. I was hearing actual fear that I might in any way be the tiniest bit displeased. So, I let the falling all over himself begging and apologizing continue while I enjoyed it.

   After a while, and somewhat longer than I anticipated I would wait, I shushed him.

   "Shh. You, are being a very, very good boy right now. There's no trouble to get into, settle down. Now, all I wanted? I wanted to ask you, if you would maybe do something special mommy wants. Are you open to the idea."

   He was, whatever it was, he was sure he wanted to do it.

   "Hmm. Now, there's no punishment being risked, you're fine. Now, I'm asking, just in case you might not be into it, that's fine. Let's say I wanted… and I don't want to, mind you, just an example. What if I wanted to know if I could pee on you. You, might be phobic about this, and I could understand. That's why I ask, just to see. In a sort of… hey there, what the hell manner of asking, okay? Now, you risk nothing, but what do you say to licking me down there."

   "If you want licked more…"

   "Not there. Not like that."

   "Where, just tell me…"

   "Shh. Where are you, when I stopped you, and asked? What were you finishing up doing."

   "Butt rub, butt massage…"

   "I want my bum licked. If I can get it… added to the little routine you got going. Hmm?"

   "A lick, or…"

   "Or… like you lick the other one, except you lick there. Will you try it? You don't have to, but, if you wanted to try to be extra sweet to me… please…"

   Next thing I knew, he started with bum cheek kisses, then I felt the warm tongue go up, tentatively, would he… then I felt it. I gave him a dramatic little moan and wiggle to let him know it was what I wanted, I liked it. Next thing I know, it was getting licked like it was a completely different hole. It didn't happen all at once, and it got better each pass around, but it happened and got added in. After several passes, I used a partially curt voice.

   "Yeah. Its fine, I can tell. Now get your tongue up there, and quit fucking around, would you? Yeah… that's right. Tongue-fuck me… that's it… good boy…"

   I smiled to myself. My team mates, the other girls like me across the other teams. My immediate peer group. I was sure that not a single one of any of them had what I had now, not even coming close. Any one of the girls he had gone through trying to politely chat them up, before ending up in my court. Asking to carry their books, smiling and holding a door open. He asked one if she wanted help with a big heavy box of stuff carried in. What had I heard from them. I can carry my own books, I'm a big girl. Another? Rolled her eyes, opening doors was an insult. The last one bragged she didn't appreciate some guy using carrying a big, heavy box as an excuse to see where she lived.

   Idiots. I had been asked to join in the round table, we have a creepy new cheerleader joke circle. I heard it go around the table, and asked what was creepy. It all sounded innocent enough. What was wrong with a guy being sweet. I reminded them they all complained, that guys weren't nice to them when they went out like they should be. I laughed and told them, sounds like a guy is trying to be nice, and you're making fun of him.

   Then, I figured out who he was from the descriptions. This was the guy I had sat next to in a class and eyed up, a little. A few others had stood around to see the guy I was looking at go in for class, so we could check him out and give him the once over. Not bad, could work, let us know how it goes. It wasn't until the computer classes came to light, they giggled. How it was too bad a decent looking guy had been "wasted" like that. Guys over 6 foot tall don't grow on trees. We all were tall girls and had a problem finding one taller, let alone first a decent looking one, then one that wasn't being chased and caught by little girly girls.

   Another night, same thing, and over a short time this same guy was making the rounds of a couple of us female athletes. We were being asked out for coffee, or to be walked to class, or would they like some company to the library. Once again, I said my piece. Hey girls, same guy you all agreed looks decent. So he has good grades, what a crime. Gee, sounds like a nice guy. Too nice, creepy jokes, laughter. I got teased for liking "the creepy guy" who was obviously the new cheerleader making the rounds trying.

   Now granted, I had just put my whip across his ass and quite forcefully and for quite some time, but still. I could have gotten this rubdown and massage, I am quite sure, anytime I had asked had I known I would have enjoyed it this much. Tall but no basketball player, not a bodybuilder by any stretch but definitely fit and trim. You'd see him working out in the gym and he was no little guy. He wasn't jacked on steroids, but you'd see him other times jogging, sometimes quite far on side roads from our big campus. We looked down and checked the odometer, the bastard was 5 miles out from campus, and hadn't turned around to start back yet.

   I had this rubbing and massaging every inch of my body, attentively. I could have been enjoying this months ago or earlier. If any girl that reads this has ever had a sore foot day, imagine being around 6 foot like me, and over 180 pounds even if it is all muscle because I'm an athlete. You try running that much weight around in soccer spikes for a couple hours, then see how your feet feel when you limp home at night, muscles aching from sprinting the whole time, not power walking or sissy jogging with baby steps. Imagine how much you'd enjoy a nice foot rub, or a rubdown being offered.

   One girl had a guy. Complete jerk, but he was a bad boy. He was gone now, couldn't pass 100 level introductory classes, obviously the IQ of a rock. Laughed at the suggestion she get a back rub. He was a macho jerk, that was sissy stuff. Before he failed out his first year though, he had managed to make the rounds of a couple of her friends. Cock accidentally tripping and landing in her friend's twats, who knew better. The guy they were giggling and fawning over, wasn't even that great looking, didn't even work out. They were all but fighting over who got to cheat with him next, and taking turns going at each other's throats or bragging about it.

   He was shit, and they were behaving like shit to each other too. Me? I was laying here in absolute heaven. Being pampered. Had the rest of the night, and all the next morning, day, and the following night as well to look forward to more pampering. I could have my twat licked any time I asked, and I could drop my jeans and bend over the hood of the car and get grabbed and ridden as rough as I could stand until I cooed with pleasure from being ridden hard and put away wet, red in the face from pleasure. Would you mind grabbing me a few things dear? What would you like. If I kissed him and said thanks, instead of dumping him for being "too nice", how was I missing out on anything again?

   No, I had something rare and sweet, and I wasn't going to screw this up. I wasn't getting this home spa treatment right now just because I'd put my riding crop across his ass until he wouldn't sit down comfortably for a day or two. He stared at my body before that had ever happened. Would you like to put your hands all over the body you're ogling? Sure, it would have been real difficult, I'm certain. I didn't have to whip him to get this treatment. Though red faced and smiling, hiding my face in my hands to hide my scarlet blush, I knew it hadn't prevented it. And while you're at it, would you mind licking my ass while you're going all over me anyways? Thanks. No, they weren't getting this level of attention. Anything I wanted, anytime. Do I deserve to be so spoiled? Probably not, but hey, what the hell. Being spoiled is nice work, if you can find it.

   I'm sure he would be a pleasure to have around the townhouse apartment. What did their rare gems do when over? Pubic hairs all over the shower and tub, toilet seat up no matter how many times you asked. A sink full of dirty dishes, and eating all our food, hamburger grease everywhere from making a simple burger. What would mine be like? Hanging on my every word. Alone, in bed, getting pampered or ridden hard. Honey, would you do me a favor, and wash the dishes tomorrow morning before you leave for class? I'm sure I'd get a yes, and I bet he started doing it regularly without being asked again.

   Girls, feel free to take notes. If this is too nice? I like it. Would I do what almost all other girls did in this "too nice" situation? Roll my eyes, become disinterested and start looking. Bide my time friend zoning him while I pursued worthless dead end guys that would never amount to shit, and treated me like shit while they were still around. Hell no. I had a great thing going. I knew immediately how I was going to have to handle this situation and right from the get go. The instant they met him next weekend when I would have him over? Yeah, I'd show off how he fetched me something to drink without being asked. But the instant the others started asking, hey grab me one too, me too. Uh uh. Girl talk time.

   He can listen, too. This? This is mine. It belongs to me. You? Go get your own. He's not here to fetch you drinks. She can get her own drink, you sit down and watch the movie with me. And, the one room mate? Hmm. She's getting a little one on one girl talk, first chance. Yeah, we're team mates, and technically we're still friends after I forgave her. Eventually. And now she's even a room mate once she landed her starting spot. This one? Last year, I landed a guy similar to this one, his last year of pre med. Lost him to run off to med school and I'll never see him again. Found out after he left, that this one had found him drunk at the bar, and had him "walk her home because it was late". The way I heard it, he was stumbling and singing, and she had his arm around her shoulder so she could walk him to her dorm room. Where go figure what went on. This? Came out after he was poof, but still.

   I would never have forgiven her, if not for her being a team mate. Now the only reason she was in our townhouse in the village, well, she was friends with two of the others who voted her in. Forgiveness? Under my protests, and only because the coach asked me to think about it. Since the guy was gone anyways, could I please try? Okay coach. For the team.

   I could see it now, waiting on her to step out of the shower and reminding her what I never forgot. You start so much as batting your eyes at this one? I will knock the ever loving shit right out of you, and if you don't think I can, dare me. Steal one of the other worthless losers the girls are sharing.

   There's four bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, we each have our own room. We already discussed this while laying there, wondering what things were going to be like. I told him, I expected him to take my polite suggestion that he was not permitted to step one inch inside any of those other three bedrooms. If I'm home or not, for any reason. I explained it wasn't him I was worried about, that we all had house rules that other boyfriends were off limits in other girls rooms, especially for those innocent reasons. Aw, would you help me with my home work? Would you help me clean, I'm so sore from the big game. We all know the one doing it, is just showing off and daring the other to say anything. Fucking dare me, I can't wait.

   He said he wouldn't ever do it, even if I wasn't there. He didn't want to risk losing my body over it. I told him it wasn't cheating, he wasn't kicked to the curb. But he was to consider it a polite suggestion, to watch out for the other girls. All of them. Room mates, team mates, and the other teams as well. We all run in the same circle, and the girls basketball team and volleyball team seem to have a back and forth thing going, seeing who can fuck each other's guys, kind of for "sport-fucking". IE, you don't even like the guy, its just like putting a tampon in the other girl's beer. Fuck that. Because he had recently gotten what he had just gotten, yeah, he puckered up a bit at the thought of what I hinted at might happen. I kissed him and shushed him.

   "Listen to me. I'm not being mean, I'm not being a jealous bitch. This shit is rampant. What are your thoughts on the matter."

   "If you catch me in another room, no matter what, you said I wasn't dumped… but… I know what that means."

   "Good. If you're wondering? Imagine tonight? Except I'm actually mad. You'll have the option of leaving, or… what you already got a taste of, will be repeated more than once. Does that sound like a fun night?"

   "No. I promise."

   "All right. Want to know how to handle it, let's say some volleyball girl, maybe even one you asked out and turned you down starts being friendly? First of all, please remember. She doesn't even like you, its just her fucking with me, that's all it is. Would you rather have as many blowjobs as I can give you, or, just one from her?"

   "Yours…"

   "Right. Why risk one, when you can have all you want, constantly. Here's what you do, if or more like when, this comes up. Smile, be nice. Ask her to start texting you. You, will come to me. I mean in person. You tell me, and I'll give you permission to text her back. I expect to see every text, without being asked. Keep your texts innocent. If she makes a suggestion? You show me."

   "Hmm. What will you do, I wonder."

   "You made the joke, you'd pay money to see me smack some girly girl around, and you'd beat off to the cell phone video later?"

   "Oh yeah. That would be hot."

   "Uh huh. You be a good little boy, and you come to me, before a problem starts that you aren't responsible for. I have a naughty proposition on a text you show me in my hand? You can pretend to accept. When she meets you and sees me come up and jump her ass about it, cell phone and text in hand? You'll see more than a little girl getting slapped, trust me. You can make a cell phone video of a real cat fight. And you can beat off to it all you want, with my blessing, if it does anything for you. Now. Would that make you mad, that I was fighting your battles for you?"

   He thought about it.

   "No. I can't hit a girl. Its one of my things."

   "Right. I can and I will over that. I wasn't kidding, honey. You? Are mine. You belong to me now. I consider you, my personal property. You, are a fun dirt bike to ride, and I'm not handing out free rides on my new dirt bike for someone else to scratch it up or wreck it. Besides. How fun would it be, to brag to your guy buddies that two girls were actually fighting over you, hmm?"

   His eyes lit up.

   "Oh. They'd think I was making it up."

   "Right. Bring your phone, and you can prove it. And you can brag all you want. Is that a fair deal? You be nice to me, and you'll get all the sloppy blowjobs you can get it up for. All I want back is loyalty. You show me loyalty? I'll reward you, any way I can. My property, I own you… but you're not my slave. You're my prized possession. If any of the boys give you jokes about being pussy whipped, for being nice to me? First of all, we'll share a private joke about that, won't we."

   "Oh yeah."

   "Uh huh. Don't let that stuff get to you. What. You let them work on you, and quit being nice, because you're getting pussy whipped? All they're doing is ruining what you seem to be enjoying right now."

   And what he was doing, was laying with his head on my knee while running his hands over my legs, telling me how much he liked me. Tracing his finger around my tummy muscles, and kissing them.

   "Now. I want what I want in bed, you know that."

   "Oh, I know. I like it. Its hot."

   "Thank you, but… what I mean is. You don't have to hang on my every word when we're not… alone. If you know what I mean. I don't order a guy around outside of the bedroom. I don't want you thinking you'll get punished for forgetting to take your shoes off in the townhouse. Polite suggestions, outside of naughty time? Are not… do you get my drift? I don't bitch and nag. I'm pretty easy going most ways. You'll see. I plan on showing you off a little, you know."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Oh. I got a new dirt bike. I expect you to stay over, plenty of nights at the townhouse. Now, the girls are gonna hear us. We can't… you know. Not until we're alone, or we go somewhere. But. Sloppy blow jobs… sixty nines… body rubs for both of us… that's fine when we're there. And, if the girls hear me getting it like I got bent over the hood of the car earlier? I expect them to hear it. I wanna hear them tell the other girls at practice, that I'm walking funny. Does this sound like something you'll enjoy? Use me for a dirt bike, ride it like you stole it. And everyone will hear and know. Sound like fun?"

   "If you get half as wet as you were for bent over the hood… you'll be my favorite thing, trust me."

   "Oh… I'm getting wet telling you naughty bedtime stories in your ear. Maybe some licking first, long enough I make some noises. I want them to hear. Then? Flip me over and… you do what you did on the hood? I love a quick hard ride. Just like I taught you, you hold me down and make me take it good. Too hard isn't hard enough."

   "Hmm. You wanna make your team mates jealous."

   "Hell yeah. Because I'm not a whore and drag drunken bums home for randoms? I go without, and they think they're showing off. Mommy's turn. I get it on the regular. And I'm telling you, at the first hint of… what we talked about? I'll handle it. You just watch. Want to know my theory, honey?"

   "Yes please."

   "I want you to remember. Asking out girls like me. Not getting the time of day… did you like that? I mean, was it fun to not get the time of day? Hmm?"

   "Eh. Kinda sucks, what can you do."

   "You just watch. You ride me like you stole me when you stay overnight enough times? Jealousy. Soon as it starts? You, are going to be turning down girls that look like me. Laugh and tell them thanks but no thanks, you're just not interested. Watch their little faces. Watch the next couple come running to try it, to show off if they can get a sport-fuck. You'll give them a complex, trust me. What does mommy have, that I don't have. Is it my hair? Do these jeans make my butt look big? Did I forget to wear deodorant? Is my messy room a turn off? And, I'll hear about these things. And we'll sit up late at night laughing. Does that not sound better, than what you were going through with all of us, before you found me? Hmm?"

   "Sounds sweet as fuck, if it happens. Am I going to be the talk of the boys at the gym, or what."

   "Well. Aren't you guys always in the gym. Don't some of you check out the girls doing volleyball and basketball practices, in between sets?"

   "Oh, hell yeah. Look at the one in the yellow shorts. Dude, those things are tiny. She's shaking it jumping around, you gotta see that one. Go check her out when you get a drink at the water fountain."

   "Right. Its fine, I know guys like to look and talk. Its normal, but… imagine it. Oh, that one? Yeah she's okay and all. But hell, I turned her down last month. No you didn't you lying piece of shit. Oh really? Wanna see a cat fight video, right here on my cell phone? My girlfriend knocked yellow shorts girl on her ass, for hitting on me and I just wasn't interested. Like I said, she's okay, but… when she wouldn't take a hint I wasn't interested? Started bothering me, following me around like a puppy dog? Felt bad telling my girl about it. Here… watch the cat fight video boys. Mine's the tall tan one, with the legs. She stomped yellow shorts girl's ass into a mud hole for bothering me. Like I said, I told her I wasn't interested, I felt bad doing it, but. I warned her. Leave me alone, you bother me."

   "Oh my god. That ever happens, I'll be a legend. Honestly, its not my style."

   "Honey. I saw your fight video. What's wrong with having a little hitch in your giddy up, when you walk around. Enjoy it."

   "Truth?"

   "Of course, dear."

   "Guy that took me under his wing. You know, fighting."

   "Your mentor."

   "Yeah. He mentored me. He taught me. Big scary looking guys are one thing, but… you're learning how to tear the head off of some… all show and no go, curls for the girls guy that don't know shit about fighting, except kissing his biceps in the mirror. Like some fag in a girl's gym, ain't got a heavy bag in it."

   "Okay."

   "Anyways. This guy is scary, if you see him fight big guys. He's a holy terror."

   "Big guy, I guess."

   "Nope. Shorter than me, not exactly jacked either. He's quick, he's got a lot of wind, and he has experience. He goes through boxers and football players, like tissue paper. He wears football players out, then beats them senseless when their gas tank's empty. Big boxers? He rips them off their feet, and puts them in dirty wrestling moves and makes them cry for their mother. That's if he's in a good mood, they weren't talking shit on him. They talked shit? He gets them down in a good hold, where they can't defend themselves and beats them senseless. No bell to save you and let you get wind back, or get you out of a bad spot. I'm telling you, I'm taller, I'm bigger, I'm stronger… but this guy was mean as a rattlesnake and twice as dangerous, and everyone knew it. Wanna know what the moral of this story is?"

   "Sure."

   "If you met him on the street, in some bar? You would never know. Polite. Quiet. He told me a million times, if I started showing off, getting into bar fights over retard shit. If he ever heard I was picking on someone. He won't train me anymore. Guy was a quiet hard ass, and he told me. I'd get better at fighting, if I had the right attitude. His attitude. Its nothing personal, you shouldn't get an ego boost out of beating up some drunk retard that can't defend himself with beer muscles. Walk away. If the guy tries to corner you? He won't let you say what he wants to hear to let you get away? Let everyone else think what they want, it means nothing. If he goes to put his hands on you, after you let him look like the big man… you leave him laying in a puddle of his own blood, and you just walk away like nothing happened. I wanted to be like him. Yeah, he was my hero."

   "Wow. I bet no one messed with him, huh?"

   "Actually? When we went out for a couple beers now and then, he won't go anywhere guys know who he is. He doesn't like the… reputation, the stories. He said he doesn't need his ego puffed up. All it does, is make you weak. It puts a chink in your armor. All it attracts, is big weightlifters that don't know how to actually fight, coming around looking to make a name for themselves. Nothing but trouble. He took me out, showed me how to act. And yeah, guys were giving us the shits somewhere, it was a construction worker's bar. You know. You and your boyfriend better get outta here, we don't like fags here."

   "What was the problem over."

   "Nothing. Nothing at all. The boys were drunk, and looking to start fights for nothing. You know what he did?"

   "Left."

   "Yep. Said hey boys, its fine. Me and my boyfriend were just leaving. He left a pitcher of beer for the boys with the barmaid, paid the tab as a nice gesture they didn't even know about. We're getting in his car, the guy followed us out. Wanted to talk some more shit, he talked his way out of it. Said what the guy wanted to hear. We get in the car, to go somewhere else. It was early. Man, we're both laughing. He says, you know you can take that guy, right?"

   "Yeah. Tub of lard. No wind. Doesn't carry himself like anything, looks like a drunken bum."

   "Right. Glad you got to finally see it. Man, I'm trying to tell him anything I can, just to get rid of his annoying ass. And I'm trying to protect him, from actually getting hurt. I put him in the hospital? Some poor wife and kids are gonna worry where the food's coming from before his shoulder works again, and it ain't the wife and kid's fault."

   "Old school. Quiet hard ass."

   "Yeah. I wanna be him. Not, that drunken football player that night."

   "Any more morals to the story?"

   "I guess so. One. I'm not a hard ass, I don't care what you thought you saw on that video someone smuggled out. I'm half a hard ass, at best. My mentor? He was a full on hard ass. Two. What you saw? Just some big guy that lifts weights and shoots steroids. No technique, no real experience. Yeah. At The Barn? Guys like me, get asked to teach big new guys that think they're hot shit a lesson like that, when they won't quit running their mouth. That night? I closed it for him. Now, if I start thinking I'm big shit? That, will happen to me one day."

   "You still… fight?"

   "I work out. Friendly matches, for working out. Not like the video. I work out, new guys want a few pointers and ask? I try to get them started, until someone better qualified might take a look at them. Its just a work out now, hun. And. I gotta tell you. I'm a little bit ashamed."

   "Of what?"

   "That football player we're talking about, he caught me at a weak moment. I almost took the bait. And I know I'm not supposed to tell him to go ask… Bobby… to keep him out of trouble. At the moment, it was the easy way out. I shouldn't have done that though. My mentor, he wouldn't have approved, and I owe his memory more than that."

   "Oh. Is he…"

   "Yeah. Car wreck. Drunk crossed the center line, smeared him over about a hundred yards of Loop 9. Poor guy was driving to work."

   He paused, deep in thought.

   "Honey? Am I allowed to make any rules? If they aren't in the bedroom. I know, that's you're turf to be in charge. And its hot."

   "Sure. I'm not unreasonable. Out of bed, that is."

   "Hmm. I would ask you, pretty please. Don't go telling all your girlfriends about that video. I'd rather you deleted it and forgot it. That ain't me you saw in that video, that was some other guy."

   "I saw your tattoos on your back, I know---"

   "Its me? I'm saying its not really me anymore. I got nothing to prove. I got all I wanted out of fighting matches. I just work out now, have fun mentoring a few young kids, if they ask. Because my dead mentor, god rest his soul, did it for me. And… pretty please, with sugar on top. I don't know how many swats I'm risking for suggesting what to do twice in a row, but… please, don't… do that shit where the girl likes to see her man getting into fights over nothing."

   "Oh, sure. Yes to both. Is that your… secret? I have one. You can have a secret too. Its fair."

   "Yes. Thank you."

   "Am I allowed to… deck a girl that tries to ride my dirt bike?"

   "Hmm. Yes. And, if I get a cell phone video, I would appreciate it."

   "Okay. If I do… will you… you know… watch the video in front of me? Alone? You know. I wanna watch. I never got to see a guy do that."

   "Oh. You get me the video, I'll… put on a show for you, if it'll do anything for you. You put on a little show for me, didn't you? Its fair."

   "Hmm. Ain't I supposed to follow your mentor's rules?"

   "Nope. My rules. Not yours. His rules, were for him. My rules, are for me. The fact that I wanted his rules, and he gave them to me? That's got nothing to do with it. You? Have your own rules. From being in the women's sports world. I know nothing about that world. I'll assume you have your reasons, that things are like they are for some reason. Besides. Aren't you a… goon with skill, you said? Sounds like you have to be comfortable knocking girls around. Now. I will not lie to you. Would I get a secret thrill out of my girl gives me a hot cat fight video? Sure. Guilty pleasure of mine. What guy doesn't get turned on by that."

   "Hmm. If it gets me my little show I want to see? You'll get one. Shit happens with the girls all the time."

   "My little Goonie Bird."

   "Hmm. That's cute."

   "Am I allowed to use it out of the bedroom?"

   "I… will let you know. And don't pester me about it, because if you annoy me? You get swats. Speaking of which, how's your…"

   "Uh. You look for me. I can't see back there."

   "Yeah you can…"

   I grabbed my phone and the flash went off, then I had a perfect shot of his butt cheeks.

   "Ouch. I really put my mark on you, and then some. Are you sure you wanna see this picture?"

   "Yeah. I never got a mark before. Those birthday and Christmas swats we talked about?"

   "Uh huh."

   "I admit. It was hot. I was turned on. I went to the bathroom later, and noticed her hand mirror. You know, now I could see my butt in the big mirror?"

   "Okay."

   "Pffft. Both times. Barely could be called swats. Your medium? Was more like… what I was looking for. And… you want me to lie, that there isn't some fantasy, about… how you did it? Yeah."

   "You dared me."

   "I did. Like you said. Those hot little speeches you give before and after? Hmm. I asked for it, so I got it. Thank you."

   "Here…"

   I handed him the phone so he could see.

   "Wow."

   "Yeah…"

   "No wonder I can't sit down. Honestly… you won't be able to sit down if you touch that radio again… kinda thought that was just a figure of speech."

   "Its not."

   We paused, both looking at his butt picture on my phone.

   "Hey. You just said, those hot little speeches. You liked that?"

   "Oh. It was like the naughty bedtime story in my ear? Yeah. Hot. I loved it. Where did you learn to do that."

   "I was winging it. I mean, I was bored in the library before, I found some books on human sexuality. Little instructional videos on the internet. The speeches? Are supposed to be part of the deal. Anticipating what you know is coming, but you don't know when, and you don't know how far it will go… that's part of the thrill."

   "Oh yeah. Hot."

   "You didn't get a little speech before or after your… birthday and Christmas swats?"

   "Hell no. Giggles. Whee! Like that."

   "Sorry for your luck. Are you happy now."

   "Yes. Thank you."

   I blushed a little and whispered back.

   "You're welcome. If you want more of the same? Misbehave again. Test me. See what you get."

   "How did you… get the ideas for your… hot speeches, before and after?"

   "Oh, the one website? I was reading their how to whip your naughty little slut guide, or whatever it was called. Anyways. They said, its like this. Pretend its 1910, and if mommy catches her naughty little boy smoking behind the barn, what would she do. What would she say. Why, that little boy caught misbehaving, would get a lecture. He would know what was coming, then he would get taken to… wherever it got done at. It was a ritual."

   I smiled, because he said nothing and was clearly hanging on every word.

   "You will bend over that chair, and if you move? You'll get it again. Shut up with that screaming and crying, we haven't even gotten started yet. You want something to cry for? I'll give you something to cry for. Then, after it was over? They were in the doghouse. They got more lectures. Threatened with worse. Right now, twice as bad, if the attitude didn't change. Eventually, they had to beg for forgiveness. Then? You eventually forgive them. That's missing in our society now, and people have a fantasy about it happening. You give them, their fantasy."

   "I dared you. You took me up on my dare. Don't feel bad."

   "I don't feel bad. They said not to feel guilty. Especially when they ask for marks. They said, why would I feel bad, giving them what they were asking for. If they don't get it? They'll beg for it. One website said, if your man is coming to you with this and you're ignoring these requests? Telling him this is silly, grow up? Its like refusing to give blowjobs, because that's dirty and I'm not that kind of girl. Some other girl? Will blow him. Some other girl, that likes to swat a naked butt? Will take the opportunity to have fun with him."

   "Good advice."

   "I know, right. If your… birthday swats girl, would have given you what you kept begging for? We might not be here right now. Hard to find a guy I otherwise like, that will ask for this. You? Hard to find a girl you otherwise like, that will give it to you. They said, not to let it grow stale, either. You can now be having sex for hours at a time, or all weekend on a privacy getaway treat weekend. Regular couples can't amuse themselves for hours on end. But, we can. And then, there's the marking."

   "You said that before. You were going to mark me."

   "Yeah. Girls give their guy a hickey? Everyone knows he has a girl and she likes him. She marked him. They pointed out, that if your man is asking to get marks, that turn him on to see and feel the next day? He can no longer take his pants off, with some random girl. He's embarrassed of it, outside of the bedroom in most cases. Cheating? Will probably never happen if you mark his ass up a little. One suggestion, was to mark his ass up if you had to go away on business for the weekend. So he can't go out if he even wanted to. Even if he wasn't planning it, it was off the table now anyways. It serves many purposes. They pointed out, you shouldn't really actually hurt someone bad, for not doing the dishes like you demand. But, if they ask for that, as a scenario? Well. Fun as it is, you're getting the dishes done."

   "Are… you going to get the dishes done?"

   I smiled and blushed. Whispered.

   "Maybe. We'll see."

   "Okay… what was the… hottest scenario you read about. The one you wanted to try."

   "Oh. If the woman is physically capable of putting the man over her knee? Over the knee, is the gold standard position. They said its one of the most… intimate positions, for both of them. A lot of comments said, yes. They finally tried the old fashioned over the knee spanking, and they loved it. Hairbrush, or bigger cleaning brush, were two of the favorites. So… yeah… over my knee. A nice cleaning brush. Some tears. Some… hot speeches. Before. During. After. Yeah… got me wet, reading it."

   "I guess most girls can't put their boy over their knee. They miss out."

   "Yeah. Its hugely popular with wives over the husband's knee, but some women can do it. If not, there's him over your lap on the floor, and across your lap on the couch, if you're otherwise too frail to…"

   "You aren't too frail for that, are you."

   I whispered, but I was done blushing.

   "I think I could. What do you think."

   "I'm pretty sure you could."

   "Hmm. Looking at this pic again, its a pity."

   "Why?"

   "Your little butt can't be smacked again."

   "Who says?"

   I held the picture out.

   "See that? Your butt says no."

   "Not even your hand?"

   "Are you daring me?"

   "Give me one on each cheek. I want to see. Just your hand."

   "Don't dare me."

   "I just dared you twice."

   I raised my voice a little…

   "I thought we went through this. You want a swat on each cheek. I'll teach you to dare me. You dared me twice? You get two. Hard hand smack on each cheek. We'll see what you think of that."

   "And what if I dared you a third time?"

   "I had about enough out of you. You want my hand on your ass? Fine. I'll put my hand on your ass. Face down on the blanket. I'll teach you to dare me."

   When he laid face down, I acted irritated.

   "Feet together. Hands at your sides. Now. I'm going to give you one hard swat, with just my hand. One on each cheek. So you know what you're asking for. We'll see if you think this is a bright idea to dare me."

   I honestly thought if I made each hand smack good and hard, as best my hand could do, that would end this. So, I did.

   "Now then. You tell me. What did it feel like. Don't make me ask you twice. We went over that shit earlier. And you really don't want to get into that again. Speak."

   "It… really stings. It burns and stings. It… doesn't hurt, like the other, if you know what I mean."

   "Am I hearing correctly? I thought I heard the words, it doesn't hurt. And after the lesson that I thought you learned not that long ago, I can see we have a little more work to do. So? That's what we're gonna do. You think you can dare me, just because your little ass is already hurt? I'll show you to dare me. Don't move, or you'll get something you never dreamed of. Sit still. Don't look at me. Don't speak."

   I took my big leather belt off, and showed it to him.

   "You give me any more sass tonight? I'm going to give you the belt. Don't."

   I slid the belt under him, yelling at him to keep his hands at his sides, then buckled it around his arms, just above his elbows. Nice and snug.

   "Now if you try to move around? I can just grab this belt, and…"

   I whacked both cheeks, as hard as I could. Once each.

   I took his belt out of his pile of clothes, pulling it out of the belt loops, and showed it to him.

   "If you need the belt? You're now helpless, and I got another one that will work just fine. I'll show you what its for right now. Stay. Or else."

   I belted his knees together nice and snug.

   "There. Now. Open you mouth and say it a third time. Third times the charm. I'm going to teach you not to test me."

   "I… I dare you."

   "Oh. Big mistake. I'll show you what I think of a sass mouth."

   I sat on his upper body, which held him quite securely. My knees were at almost touching his hips, my strong legs tucked in against his body. My feet ended up around his head. He seemed to cradle his face into the little hollow created by my ankles coming in on a tuck. He was held securely, he would go nowhere. No arms, no legs, and rolling or bucking? Like I said, helpless.

   "No gag. You, are going to tell me when you think you learned your lesson."

   I decided to use big hand swats, this should end as quick as I could manage. I gave each cheek my hardest quickest swat.

   "Count. Or you'll get the belt, and there will be no counting for the belt. It'll take quite a while. Don't test me."

   I got a one.

   I gave each cheek two in a row. Two fast hard swats on left, then two on the right.

   "I'm waiting!"

   I got my two.

   I did three on the left cheek, then three on the right. I was getting sniffles, but nothing like I learned my lesson, like he was told. Fine.

   When he got five each, there were sniffles, and I could feel tears on my ankles. I didn't get my five, so I repeated five on each, and demanded my five. I got squirming, but I also got a quick five.

   "Miss a count again? I don't care where we're at. I'll start over, and we'll come right back up to the number you missed. I swear to god, don't fuck up my count. Moving right along."

   By the time we got to eight each, I got the sobs.

   By nine ending, in addition to the count I got the squealing and whining. He held out, and I started to get frustrated. I tried to up my game. I never did hand swats like this and I was learning faster was better, but you had to retract fast. Into the next swat. I got more squealing that way. I did ten each with this new found trick. I started hearing how he learned his lesson, before the other cheek got its ten.

   "No. You think you learned your lesson. I'll show what a lesson really is."

   I gave him ten more on the other cheek. All to promises that he learned his lesson, he learned his lesson.

   "Really? Because I… don't… think… so. I'll tell you when I think you learned your lesson. Dare me again. You're going to learn not to test me. Fuck counting. There's no more counts. There's just learning your lesson now, little boy. Dare me again after this, I dare you.

   I whacked any cheek, as hard and as fast as I could. A bunch on one, then the other, or alternating. Whatever the hell I felt like. I taunted him the whole time, too.

   "That's not crying. I'll show you crying. You want something to cry for? Fine."

   "Scream for me, little boy. You better quit yelling about that lesson being learned, you're just getting more for that. I told you, I'll tell you when you've learned your lesson."

   This went on for a while more. Eventually, I stopped and walked around. I knelt in front of his head.

   "Now I think you learned a lesson. I wanted you to see the difference, between when you think you've learned your lesson? And when I think you might have learned it. I suggest you remember this."

   I sat down again and drew my knees up once more, and I snapped my fingers and pointed at where he now knew was where the little crying face went, until he could compose himself.

   "You. Are so lucky I didn't have to tell you what to do, when I already showed you. Now that? Shows me that you might have actually learned a lesson. Maybe. I feel lots of tears on the tops of my feet, little boy. Keep them clean. Lick. Kiss. Wipe it with your face. But don't you dare look at me. I'm very disappointed in your behavior, and I'm sitting here deciding if you get more or not. Don't test me. You won't like what happens next, if you do. So, that's me daring you. Do you want to take my dare, little boy? Try me."

   I did the napkin toddler trick again.

   "Blow. You're lucky your little ass isn't getting what I just gave you? All over again, for getting your little snots on my feet. Now I have to wipe them off, and you know what? That's your job right now. You can't do a damn thing right, and I'm getting tired of it. As you've just seen. And you better get this annoying whiny shit over with, quick. I'm getting bored listening to it. We have work to do yet. We're going to have to go over it more, I can see. Its going to be a lot longer, before I forgive you. Not sure yet, if I even will. And if I don't? Well… you'll find out the hard way. Because now, I can see easy doesn't work with you."

   I had to admit, I was really getting into these lectures. They really were quite enjoyable. I never acted before, and it was fun. Hey, like the website said. If you're a woman, and your man wants his ass smacked? He wants marked up? What the hell. Give him what he wants, give him the 1910 child abuse discipline he fantasizes about.

   We went through all the same phases as before, but each was much longer. I terrorized him more this time around, too. Threatening him with my hand, produced little sniffles and quiet sobbing. Naturally, I was always this close to getting tired of it, and giving him something to sniffle about if he really wanted to do the fake sniffles routine, for sympathy. Sympathy which of course, I assured him there was none to be found.

   No telling how long he begged and apologized and pleaded. I kept stopping him, telling him uh uh, I heard that lame shit last time. We need something better, and he better figure out what that was. Finally at the end, I was done. I told him to go back to his face where it belonged, that I still didn't want to see his face yet, I was still deciding. I told him my forgiveness hadn't been granted yet, but we were done.

   I stood up, and stepped into my athletic shoes. It was the middle of the night, out in the middle of the absolute nowhere. I left him laying on the blanket, the two belts still in place.

   "Mommy's going for a little walk. I'll be back. If you've moved a muscle from that spot? Well… I dare you. All right? Let's see if you take any more dares with me now. Mommy? Is bringing you a little present back. I'm sure you'll just love it. Be back soon and, oh… don't go anywhere…"

   It was fun to walk naked in the pitch dark, with just one of the little LED lanterns. The kind that are solar, cost nothing to run, and run all night if they're in the sun all day. I just snapped up the cheap solar lanterns from the walkway and brought them for cheap lights that would run all night if I needed them, and charged themselves automatically all day if it took that long.

   I was a farm girl. I know one tree from another. Not all of them of course, but I knew what I wanted. A willow. I hiked in my athletic shoes and nothing else for a surprisingly short time, to find a little spring. You get near a spring, there's water around. Willows grow near water available year round.

   When most people say "willow", I generally assume they mean the Weeping Willow. That's the willow everyone instantly recognizes. They're pretty to look at, and quite distinctive the way all the branches and runners hang down. Honestly though, there's other willow trees. The Weeping Willow might be the most famous, but the Golden Willow is right behind it in a head count. Thing is, people will often have a Golden Willow and not even know what it is. It looks nothing like the Weeping Willow, at all. None of the same hanging stringy stuff, it all grows like a traditional tree. Up and out, erect leaves and branches.

   One of the willow tree's free gifts, is what is reputed to be one of the finest switches to be had, anywhere at any price. Its hard, its flexible, its sturdy. It bends just the little bit necessary to really wrap around an ass. Today the hickory switch is the one name everyone recognizes, but the old timers had the willow neck in neck with hickory for a photo finish. The website, one of them, had information on implements. Thicker hurt more, and gave more actual damage. Thinner, made for mainly sting and burn. Surface marks, not damage. I got myself several. Long ones thick or thin, are the most wicked. Also, they were said to make the swish noise. After a switching past tears, you could threaten them with just the swish, weeks later, if you did it well enough that they remembered. The swish would terrify them they might get it again. I got three sizes in short and three nice long ones, from really thin, to sort of thick. I could come back anytime to refine what I learned I wanted, if need be. I took them all back.

   It would be easy to believe that the Weeping Willow is so named because of the reputation of the switches it provides? But no. The weeping isn't your victim you switch. The weeping is what the tree does, particularly if you park a nice vehicle under it. The sap and pollen can ruin a new car inside of two years. Common early growth locust trees are another car destroyer.

   "I'm back. I see you didn't move. That? Is a smart move on your part, little boy. Maybe, the only smart decision you've made so far this weekend. Daring me? Not working out as well as you thought, huh. Be very careful right now. Because you haven't seen anything yet. We, are getting to the bottom of things right now, soon. Oh. Get to the… bottom. Get it? Yeah, I made a funny. Ha. Ha. Ha. You? Are just about to be granted permission? Or, and I haven't decided yet… you're about to really get it. I'll show you. You just keep quiet. Stay still. Not a word."

   I took one of the steak knives we used eating, and wiped it off on a clean napkin, and went to work. I carefully skinned the willow branches. Took little imperfections off. Took me a little while, but not that long. We had all night.

   I had already kicked my athletic shoes back off the minute I came back, and got into my familiar position. Face on the tops of my feet. I had a pile of what were now an assortment of switches. I told him he was not forgiven yet by any means, but he was allowed to look up.

   "Now. Here we are. We're right on the edge of things. Will you be forgiven? Or will you take mommy's dare, huh? You will not dare me. I will dare you. You need to learn the difference. This is my game, not yours. And don't you dare speak, until you're told to."

   "Look at those. Mommy's presents, for her little boy that misbehaves. Those? Are not sticks. Those? Are willow switches. I grew up on a farm. Everyone hears the old tales. The willow switch? Was one of the most feared things to give a naked ass the stick with in the old days. Look how many we have. You give me any shit? We'll use them all, one by one, as long as I feel like it. And as you just saw? I'll tell you when your lesson has been learned. You will not tell me. You'll learn that, I promise you."

   "You ever hear about the willow switch. After a couple of serious negotiations with a naughty child, you just had to say they were going to get the switch, and they immediately listened. That's because it works. Very well. Crying. Screaming. Marks. The neighbors, a long ways off? They could hear when someone was getting the switch, and getting it good. The other children? Would hear the child that was getting it. All the way down the barn. They could hear that screaming and screeching. It would go on for a while. They learned their lesson, just hearing it. But really, hearing something? That's a half measure."

   I picked up a long one, and swished it several times. I put it under his chin, standing up, looking down at him helpless in the belts.

   "Oh yeah. Dare me? No no no… I dare you. Give me the slightest indication, that you're even thinking about it? I have no problem with it. Go on. Dare me. No?"

   I swished one, then another. Then all of them in turns. Laughing. Touching his chin and face and anywhere else I felt like with them.

   "You might be curious. Here's how these little beauties work. Shorter? Handier. Let's say you need to use one in a confined space. Fits in luggage, so you can handle a child on a trip or staying at a relative's house. Its handy, you got one. Now. The long ones? Ooh. Those, are the legendary ones. You ever hear the phrase, wait till I get you home? That, is because the long one was at home. The short one, worked quite well, on the road or staying over, but… that was just temporary. Wait till I get you home. Because… when you got home? That whole rest of the trip? You knew what you were going to get. The long willow switch. The bad one. And you knew what was coming."

   "Now. You? Don't know yet. You, might think I'm making this all up. I'm not. Some more information, you might find interesting. Short ones. Like I said, handier. Great for a woman to go into a closet and still have something that was effective. But the long one… that stood in the corner. Where you could grab it up when you needed to correct some misbehavior. Now then. Its not just about short and long. No. There's more."

   "Thick, thin, and in between. The thinner, the more sting. The faster it can come in. You get a really long, really thin one? It was said to quickly turn into… how did that one book say it? Oh yeah. A badly sunburned ass, getting stung by pissed off hornets. The thick ones? They hurt more than sting. You can cause some damage with a long thick one. Short and thick was the remedy for something to go into the suitcase. Something handy you could swing in the backseat of the car, if a kid needed corrected while out to dinner. You took them out to the backseat of the car, and when they finally came back? Listened very well. Like magic. So."

   "Which one do you want? Short thick. Long thin. Long medium. How about long and thick. Hey… I dare you. The long thinner ones, were great because even little women could swing them fast enough to sting and burn that naked ass quick. And the long big ones? Well. Do I look like I can't swing a thick one fast enough? Again, little boy. Dare me."

   "All right. Honestly, I think you need to make an informed decision. Two with each. Nice, hard swats. Every one of them. You need to see the differences. Then? I'm going to pick my favorite, not you. And? Then you'll get as many as I say, as hard as I can swing it. Dare me. Go on."

   "I didn't think so. Come on. Lets get you up… there we go. You're not going anywhere like that are you? Ha. Two each. Good ones, too."

   I took my time swishing and threatening and taunting him, before I started with short thin. Then short medium, again two fast hard swats. Finally, the thick short one? I came under to hit just below the butt, to avoid any serious damage. I already had tears, I already had dancing. I just held the upper belt to keep him still and upright.

   Then, we took a little break and I made quite a show of the long thin one.

   "You know? Three each. Dare me, huh?"

   I gave him three long thin ones, fast and hard, and I got the squealing and tears I was looking for.

   Then more swishing the long medium, then three with it as well. More screaming and screeching, on that already sore ass. I took my time swishing the long thick one. Smiling. Taunting him. Teasing him. Finally, I gave him three fast, hard ones. Again, coming up from below to the bottom under any previous marks.

   "Now then. Do you have a favorite? I think the long thin one is the right tool for now. How about ten really good ones, huh? Burn. Sting. Tears. You know what? Dare me to do twenty, with this long thin one here. Go on. Whats that? You do? Sure thing."

   I gave him twenty fast hard ones, on the upper legs. Tears and sobbing.

   "Now. Let's go back where we were, before I figured out how to solve this misbehavior problem. I think I got it licked now. Oh, I made another funny. You get licks with the switch. You like that? I'm so funny, ain't I. Yeah… I'm gonna be a regular laugh riot if you dare me any more. I dare you. You do not dare me? I will dare you. You got that?"

   He nodded.

   "I don't believe this… that's ten more. And you? Will say yes, and thank you? Every time. Or? We start all over again with 20 and see how that goes. Dare me.

   I got my yes, thank you… ten times.

   "That's better. Now. You can see I picked a favorite. Long thin one. For now. Could change at a moment's notice. Whatever I think I need, to eliminate misbehavior? Now, I got something that might work. I promise you, we're gonna cure the sass. One way or another."

   "Time to let you go. You? Will kneel. You know what to do down there. Keep the tears clean. You get a snot on my foot? You'll pay for it. Here's some napkins. Blow when you need to. Then the face goes right back where it belongs. No need to wait for that whiny shit to stop. Start begging. Apologizing. Promising. Thanking me. And you better hope I decide to forgive you. Or else. Your hands are free now. Hands on my ankles, face on my feet. Go. Don't you dare look up until told to."

   I enjoyed standing there, getting the long begging and pleading. I made sure it went on for a while. I enjoyed these kneeling moments, and he did admit later on that he thought it was hot. In the words of the one website? I was slowly forming my own personal scenario. Our personal scenario. Just for us.

   Eventually, I told him he was forgiven then it was time for a thank you session. Then? I announced if he wanted to try to kiss and make up, I would see how it went. We moved onto another twat licking for me, I was soaked. Just the one quick one, to sort of give me a quickie and clean some of my love grease up, and wipe the rest on his face.

   "Now. Here's the thing. I wanted fucked. I was originally planning, on you getting 20 and then it was 40, whatever. Nothing earth shattering. Then, the last thing, was you were going to see what its like when I fuck you. I like to ride tops. I can start, stop, speed up, slow down, I got all kinds of wiggles I do. I can tease, I can giddy up and stroke it fast. Thought you'd enjoy that. Make you tell me when you were getting close, so I could stop, and then later on I start again. Keep it going. I can run for hours in a game, go figure I can ride your cock with me on top like no one's business. I grew up on a farm, these legs can grip a horse… now what do we have. A damaged ass, I can't ride tops."

   "I'm sorry."

   "Yeah. I know you're sorry. I'm the one who made you sorry. But that doesn't fix it. We can do me bent over the hood again, but… we did that already. You, are going to have to go on top. Now, will you listen to my instructions? Faster. Slower. Deeper. Harder. Just the tip. Finger my clit. Stop the clit. Hold it in. I want instructions followed. Still not as good as me on top, you're really missing out, I'm telling you. We'll just have to save that treat. If you plan on sticking around long enough, to get ridden like a horse. That sound like a fun night? Mommy rides you hard and puts you away wet, more than once?

   "Yes please."

   "Yeah. Well, lets get started…"

   I kissed him some sips of brandy, and I had a few. We finished a little more of the joint passing it back and forth. Then we went back to him riding me. I couldn't help picking up a switch and touching him gently, then it occurred to me to teach him what the stick touches meant, until I could get most of the important commands through without a word.

   "Train you like a naughty little fuck pony…"

   When we were done, we went back to kissing and making up. He went on a little binge of thanking me in my neck. I will admit, it was something I enjoyed. Begging me in my neck to keep him, promising to behave.

   We ate again, and actually small talked now. I winked at him, and asked if tricking him into the third radio touch was cute on my part or not. He admitted, he wasn't sure as he did it if it was okay or not, because I had told him to touch it. I smiled, and admitted I wasn't sure about that rule. But, I pointed out I was the coach as well as the ref, so… my decision in bed, was final.

   I told him we were going to have to stay home from parties, to get the three room mates gone so we could have some kind of fun once in a while. I told him as the room mate longest in our apartment, I was head of household on the lease, so I had the basement keys and wasn't to give them out. We'd try the basement and see if it was any fun for the hell of it. Then there was always the car. I told him we have a game of sneaking in to the practice stadium's showers in the middle of the night, and we know how to turn on only the lights you can't see from outside, so… I would be able to have him in the big community shower to myself for some fun. We all did it before, it was fine.

   "Oh. Can I get… ridden by you, in the girls locker room after hours then?"

   "Sure. Wooden benches this thick, on posts in the cement floor, lines all the lockers. Belt around your chest, belt around your knees, to the bench… then mommy will ride you, and tease you, until you scream my name and beg to finish. Leave you like that, and go wander off. Scare you I left you helpless like that. Blindfolded. When I wander back from my drink of water at the fountain, you'll get tickled and teased some more, then a naughty story to get you up for another… midnight ride."

   "Now, that sounds fucking hot."

   "Hmm. I'm thinking about the showers. You know what? How in the hell, do I not own handcuffs. Hey, I forgot to ask you. Did you like being tied up? Only did it once, a long time ago. If you didn't like it…"

   "No. Its fine. You mean there's a possibility of being tied up for you to fuck me, without crying?"

   "If you behave, sure. Handcuffs though, would be so convenient. I'm thinking at least two pairs. Maybe four. Quick to get you in and out of them. Secure, too. I can clap another pair on your ankles. Tie the cuffs to something to make them even more handy. I mean, I'm picturing a chunk of rope and a pair or two of handcuffs… to take you into the showers."

   "Ooh. Do tell. How would that go."

   "I'll have to make this up as I go along."

   "Then you can do it, right?"

   "Yeah. I'd make you strip in the middle of the girls locker room. Rope on a pair of handcuffs. Cuffed in front of you, lead you along the locker room on the rope. Like leading a horse around. Make you do whatever tricks I want you to learn. I'm sure I'd need a switch handy, just to make sure you need to listen. Probably wouldn't need used. Because by that time? You'll already know. That polite suggestions should be followed when I give them, right."

   "Yes."

   "Uh huh. We'll see. I want you to watch me. I'll tie that rope on the cuffs, to a pipe that runs along in the girls shower room. Little hands, up in the air. Helpless. You'll have to watch, naked. As I slowly get undressed. Teasing you right at the doorway, so I can drop my clothes on the bench there. The other pair of cuffs on your ankles once you're there like that. I want completely helpless. When my little show is over, I'm gonna take my shower. Probably start with shaving my legs for you. Slowly soap up. Rinse off. Wash and moisturize my hair. Maybe do my after shower skin oil. I'll be washed, soaking wet, and all oiled up."

   "Yes please."

   "Then its your turn. I'll wash you, slowly. Everywhere. Tease you. Tickle you. You won't be able to do anything about it. Helpless. At mommy's mercy. I think you'll be hard as a rock, by the time we eventually get to your… final after shower oil up. Hope I don't forget you there, little hands in the air, helpless, feet together. I mean, what if someone comes and finds you like that. Then I'll remember, I left something in the shower. You. Then… we'll tease you. Then, finally? We can fuck under running water. I'm gonna have you dry me off. Head to toe. Slow and careful. Cream my skin for me. That's one time, anyways."

   "There's more trips to the girls locker room and showers."

   "Oh yeah. If you behave? Sure. I told you. If you please me, I'll reward you. I could see me getting you to wash me, rinse me, do everything for me, slowly. Then its your turn. I'll throw a wet towel on the floor, and we fuck. All oiled up, soaking wet. I'll be on top for that, though."

   "Why."

   "The slut goes on the bottom. That's you. I'm in charge, that's what I want. I'm sure that will be okay, right?"

   "Yes please."

   "Good answer. Maybe I get a rubdown in there. Then oiled up and pounded from behind, like on the hood of the car. You're going to be required to give me hard quickies like that, from time to time. I like them. I expect you to give it to me good, too."

   "I promise."

   "You better. You can get a body rub too. No, the showers are endless ideas for me. Then? We're definitely going to sneak into the pool in the middle of the night. I know how to turn the heat up, the night before. Warm water, skinny dipping, middle of winter. I know the schedules, I know how to get in. Athlete thing."

   "I guess that about covers the locker rooms and showers."

   "Hmm. How about the gymnasium? Middle of the night. Blanket right in the middle of the floor, on a gym mat there. Ride you like a horse, you can pretend the bleachers are full and people are cheering for you to score. Ha… a little naked one on one."

   "Can you really get that…"

   "I can get the key to the gym. I know who has it, and how to get it."

   "You? Are something else."

   "If you're loyal? If you're nice to me? I like this as much as you. What, you think like a lot of guys, sex is some chore for the girl? You need to… be on your toes, doing things to get the treats? Uh uh. If you've ever had it like that? I hate to tell you what's going on. I'm a girl. We all know the games."

   "I had that one. What game was being run on me."

   "Oh shit. You? Were wining and dining it, weren't you? Dinners, flowers, buying drinks. Presents. Oh, she likes you, but… she's not sure. She likes you, because you don't rush her. You're a nice guy… you? Let me guess. I'm a good girl. I don't sleep around. I need to be with a guy a while… right? While you're footing the bill for every date, every meal, every present, every drink. She's deciding… maybe this many months in, its time. How am I doing here…"

   "How long were you stalking me? I had a couple of those."

   "Oh. Let me guess. Something happened. Some… misunderstanding. About a week or a month, before… it was get serious date set. You know, where you actually start getting sex. Or, real sex starts. No more hand jobs in the car to tide you over. Come on, how am I doing."

   "Like I said. Like you were there."

   "You know what was going on, right?"

   "Oh, I can't wait…"

   "This went on in high school, of course."

   "Yeah…"

   "Poor guy. Standard girl game. You? Were the show boyfriend. Let me guess. Good grades. Sports. Polite to the parents. Well groomed. Never in any trouble. Took you to meet the parents, for dinner. You, thought you were the real boyfriend. No. You? Were complaining to your friends you weren't getting any. You were a gentleman to their little princess. Your other job, was to give her rides. Do anything she needed. Pay for everything. Then? She was fucking the real boyfriend or boyfriends, on the side. That was the nights with her friends. Girls night out. No boys allowed. That? Was so she could get raw-dogged, in every hole, by some… pot dealing thug, in his 20s. You? Make the parents happy. She gets you to pay and do everything. Then? Every time. Some misunderstanding happens, just before you get to the serious level. She's sorry. Its not you, its her. Its just not working out."

   "I had three of those."

   "She passed you off to the next one. Who probably paddled you down the river like a fucking canoe. Twice as long of a wait, though. You already were dumb enough to fall for it once, why not try it twice as long. No, you were determined this time. Better impression to the parents. Probably offered to cut dad's lawn, shovel snow without being asked. Oh, you were trying this time, baby. Bet you had a better part time job, better dates, better presents. You? Were gonna win this time. Same thing though. A month before… some girl claimed she saw you out and lied. You don't know why she'd do that to you…"

   "The third one pulled that one. This one just… it wasn't working out."

   "Uh huh. Third one… I mean, after the first two? That last one, she knew she could really take you for a ride. I bet… one year, but wait… we're getting engaged, after we graduate. I'm a good church girl, but… if I get my ring, I'm gonna start to sleep with you. One year ends? You did even more this time… got you the same result. I bet you just think you have bad luck, huh."

   "Yeah. After high school? Disgusted. Sports, so. Service. 4 years to get college money. Here I am."

   "You get ridden like a bitch with girls in the service?"

   "Once or twice."

   "I'm sorry to be the one breaking this to you. I'm not making fun of you. I'm just telling you the truth."

   "Why will… no girl will ever tell me. There were friends, that knew…"

   "Truth? To most women, guy friends? Are… there to do things for them. For nothing. Never even a kiss. You're on their little, entourage. You give rides, you loan 20 bucks, you help do things. Never gets you anything. That's not a friend… those girls were all in on the game. All us girls know the games."

   "What about you."

   "Oh. I had male family on the farm. Male farmhands. I liked riding dirt bikes. With the boys. I played wiffle-ball and tackle football. With the boys. I don't… think like a girl, that way. I grew up thinking like a boy, without realizing it. Tell the truth, do unto others. I'm a tomboy. We're like that, a lot of us. Lot of us ain't though. Most of the sports girls? Picked these games up late, and use them. Not me. I refuse."

   "Wow. Where were you, when I just needed your advice, in high school."

   "Yeah. Girls won't tell on each other for their games and their lies and the bullshit. All the cheating. I didn't want in their… click. I'd as soon go hang out with the guys and ride dirt bikes. I'd tell any guys I knew, what was up. The girls can talk shit, but… can't scratch my eyes out, girly girl. She's giving me shit, I told her. You? You? You? You're all a bunch of lying, cheating, sneaking, bitches. Well there's more than one of us… ha. I knocked the shit out of a couple in the bathroom. It got pretty ugly. I don't pull hair, except to hold you while I close your eye."

   "What was their deal. Girl mafia?"

   "Pffft. All girls are in on it. They all got each others back. You want popularity? You play along. I got a taste of their shit they were pulling? I went back to riding dirt bikes. Started telling my guy friends, who were my real friends I grew up with… what shit was being pulled on them. So, they thought they were gonna give me the shits for telling. Surprise. Name calling, and making up stories is one thing, but… 3 or 4 girls gonna start pulling my hair in the bathroom? I… grew up fighting with the boys. Literally."

   "Fuck me."

   "I just did."

   "Funny."

   "Yeah. This battle royal is going down in the senior bathroom. I got in the door way after it started, I got them trapped. I let the other girls go. Two of my guy friends were waiting for me to go to class with them. I told them to hold the door shut. We needed some girl time. Hey, I'm one of the guys. I got 'em trapped now. I beat the shit out of those four girls. It was supposed to be three, then the other one got in on it. I hit more like a boy, if you're some little girly girl. They can't throw a punch. I can. People were talking about the blood in the bathroom. They closed it, after one girl said it looked like a murder scene."

   "The hell…"

   "Oh. Bloody noses. Fat lips. Eyes beat shut. Kicked around on the floor. I'm wearing my work boots. Four on one pulling hair? Fuck that."

   "Kinda trouble you get in."

   "Oh, that. Yeah. I got 2 weeks out of school suspension. The girls thought they were gonna sue daddy, police threatened, etc etc. Daddy's farm lawyer? Had a talk with the police. He had witnesses, that three or four girls were attacking me at once. Lawyer said it was clear cut self defense, if anyone tried anything in court, they were gonna be the ones get the shit sued out of them."

   "Did you get the… willow switch?"

   "No. I got attacked. My parents let me go ride dirt bikes all two weeks. My guy friends were taking turns ditching school, to ride with me. We all had a ball. Then, the principal showed up at the farm."

   "Why?"

   "Hum hum hum. Now see here, sir. The information, that I have been receiving… hum hum hum… is that your daughter, is not being punished, and she's running free all two weeks. This was violence, and as we all know violence solves nothing. I think as a parent, we need to have a talk, and you need to be on board with…"

   "How did that go."

   "Daddy got me, to come and hear it. Farmhand knew where I was. Me and my two guy friends came in on dirt bikes. The boys stayed behind the garage. I mean they're ditching school and there's the principal there. But they're peeking around the corner behind the garage. Daddy said, I want you to hear this, honey. You? Here's the number of my lawyer. The police? Refuse to file charges. Self defense. You call my lawyer. Now, if the police refuse to file charges? Fuck you, and getting on board with your plan. Violence is wrong? Why isn't violence wrong for four girls jumping one girl. So, fuck you. Call my lawyer, get off my land. That's my daughter not yours, she's not in any trouble, she did nothing wrong. Go ride bikes with your friends, dear. The principal? Was just leaving. Oh. You still here? You need me to throw you out myself? Get your ass moving."

   "You get kicked off the sports team?"

   "The principal thought he was gonna go that route. The coach went after his ass. Coach wanted to know why the four girls weren't suspended. Principal says, because they got hurt, they learned their lesson. Coach said he ain't having it. Four girls jump on one girl, and don't get into any trouble. Now, the victim is getting in trouble? No way. My player, I heard the police have statements from witnesses, that those four girls jumped one of my players. No charges filed. I'll take it up with the school board. The principal caved."

   "You didn't lose your scholarship?"

   "Principal tried that, too. The lawyer went and had some kinda talk with the school board, everyone sat down. One of the police came to the school board meeting, and explained what self defense was, and how were the four girls that initiated the conflict, which was how he said it, were not getting in trouble. The school board was scared to get in trouble. All they could do was, teacher whining. Violence is never the answer… sniffle sniffle."

   "Yeah. So, this explains you being a…"

   "Goon?"

   "I was gonna say, goonie bird, but yeah."

   "Hmm. College coach? Took one look at me, apparently he'd talked to my soccer coach from high school… he could use a big girl like me. My coach finds me… useful. Off the field as well as on it."

   "Sleeping with the soccer coach. Now I know how you got to be a starter as a freshman… you little farm slut…"

   I laughed. It was a funny joke and pun, but I couldn't help winking and putting on my little act.

   "Does mommy need my willow switch? Hand me my favorite. Right… now."

   He handed it to me. I winked at him to let him know it was a joke, but I stood up and put it under his chin. The long thin one he had gotten a taste of.

   "Number one. Tone of voice? All wrong. Choice of jokes? Funny. But still… not in good taste. Now then…"

   I swished it around. Then pointed at the ground in front of me on the blanket.

   "Kneel. You know where your hands and face go. Don't make me tell you twice? Or I take that wink away. I'm gonna count to three. One…"

   He knelt at my feet, and put his hands on my ankles, and his face on my feet I put together for him.

   "Don't look at me. Don't speak. Don't move. Or you'll be in for it. Do not test me. I dare you. That's better. Stay there, while I finish."

   I waited a while to make sure he didn't move, and drew out the suspense. I touched him with the long thin new toy.

   "That's better. I would permit this? If we weren't both naked, and not still fooling around off and on. Things don't go normally, when we're in the bedroom. You need to understand that. Now then. Stay there, while I explain it."

   "Ahem. Off the field? When upper class team mates give a freshman the shits, and it gets out of hand. Coach doesn't want good players getting picked on and quitting. Most girls all lie and stick together. Me? I don't. I report, secretly, to the coach when there's any ongoing… problem. If I tell him, the freshman isn't at fault? He authorizes me, unofficially, to… befriend the new girl, and pick on the older girls. You know, till the new girl gets some friends, and has her own click going."

   "Now then. Back to me, you, and your little sass. First off. Jokes of a sexual nature about me, and the coach. Not funny. Actually, it would be funny, but… you crack jokes like that around my team mates that are my room mates? These are girls. Jokes get around. Rumors start. They take on a life of their own. So, even though, I admit it technically is funny? We're going to label jokes like that. Not funny. Do I make myself understood? And I mean… fully understood. Go on. Open your mouth. Say one single word. I dare you. Huh? That's what I thought. Well. We're finally getting somewhere, aren't we. No talking. I expect cute little kisses on the tops of mommy's feet. Get to it. I'll tell you when to stop."

   I swished a little.

   "Now then. Point number two. Sexual jokes, brings up something here. Some of the upper class girls, who were used to beating up the freshman girls. Because they were in a click, and if they didn't like a girl personally, they thought they were gonna smack her around and make her quit. That's where mommy comes in. Guess what happens. Yeah. I'm honest, I don't lie, I was raised like that. The coach likes my services. Now then. Moving right along. These upper class girls, who suddenly can't gang up on new girls, and pull their shit. Guess what happened to them? Right. Problem. After they found out I wasn't fucking playing around? They started spreading the rumor, that mommy? Was a lesbian. You know, its like prison. The new girl needs a bigger older girlfriend, to protect her. When I found that shit out? Well, guess how that worked out. We went from me pushing the older girls around, so they had a taste of seeing what it was like, to… well… you know where this one ended up. Don't look at me, don't speak, don't move. I haven't decided what to do with you yet…"

   "Let's recap what we've gone over here. Jokes of a sexual nature, concerning me and the married male soccer coach? Not funny. I'll never hear it again. You? Will undergo a long, and very thorough lecture, in private… if it ever comes out of your mouth again. And if it came out of your mouth and the girls in my apartment heard it? We will definitely, be having the exact, same, conversation… twice. Maybe? Three times. Are we understood? Speak."

   "Yes."

   "I don't find lesbian jokes, if they concern other players and me… funny. There's enough of it going on, and rumors of more that weren't doing it… well… just don't. We'll file this under the same as the coach jokes. Not funny. I hear one? Same punishment as the coach jokes. In front of any of the girls to overhear? Two or three times in a row. Are… we… understood. You speak to answer me, then you go right back, to kissing mommy's feet. Go."

   "Yes."

   "Moving right along. You will remember, the jokes that mommy admitted was funny, about the… professional dominatrix pervert shit? You might wonder why I don't like the joke. We're all tall, strong, girls most of us. Some of the girls, have cute faces and hair. Our team pictures? Are on the internet, on the school website. People online, find our pictures… and… the girls, me included, get emailed from perverts. Some of these perverts? Are running escort services. Escorts my ass, these are fucking hookers. Now. Tying up fat, rich, married pieces of shit out cheating like lying sneaks… will pay thousands of dollars, for a… well… have you been having fun this weekend, little boy? Speak then return to the kisses down there. Go."

   "Yes. Very much…"

   "Uh huh. I know. Because I'm the one giving you such a good time, ain't I? Speak, then right back to those kisses. I like them. Go."

   "Yes. Its hot."

   "It is. Now then. Given the nature of girls in general, what do you think if you had to guess, is going on? I'll tell you. There are sports girls, who answer these emails. We've contacted the authorities. The girls, are over 18. Apparently, its not illegal to spank a rich, fat, disgusting pervert. Cheating on his wife and kids, and paying thousands of dollars to do it. We lose players. Good ones. Yes, we have girls that disappear every weekend, and magically? Have money to pay cash for new sports cars, jewelry, you name it."

   "Now. Me, you? We… are boyfriend and girlfriend. This is a fun game for us. I will never, be a fucking hooker. I don't care how many thousands I am offered per night, and the fact I don't have to lay a finger on the pervert, is beside the point. Legal or not, it makes me want to puke. I would like to get the wives and families and jobs of these perverts, to know what's going on. Now then… do we understand that certain jokes are technically not funny, even though they kind of are, and why we'll label them not funny, and your lips will not utter these jokes again. Ever. Are we clear? Yes or no. Speak, then go back to the kisses. Mommy likes it."

   "Yes. Very clear. I'm sorry."

    "You better be sorry. And if I don't believe you really are sorry? I have proven twice tonight, that I know how to make you sorry. Haven't I? I have. I'll do it again. Dare me. The only thing saving you right now? Is mommy enjoys what you're doing. You, better keep it up."

   After a while, I ordered him to stand up. He did.

   "I remember giving you permission to stand up. I don't remember, giving you permission to look at me. I need to do something about it. Do you know what I've decided to do to you, to teach you a lesson? Ask me, what I'm about to do with you. Speak."

   "What are you about to… do with me."

   I winked at him, and dropped the switch. Smiled and stuck my tongue out, and acted silly.

   "How about… a wet, sloppy, blowjob. Would that teach you a lesson, you think?"

   "Oh. Definitely. I mean, you winked at me before you started, so I knew you were kidding, but… then you said you took the wink back…"

   "Hmm. Am I getting better at this? Kinda fun. Gets me wet."

   "You, are getting very good at your… speeches. Very… hot."

   "Do I sound silly?"

   "No. You… sound like a mom? You sound mad when you do it. You got the thing down about pat, I'm telling you."

   "Hmm. When I said I took the wink back, did you get a little scared? You've had a whip across your ass, so…"

   "Um… when you said you took the wink back, I'm thinking, okay… then, I don't know. When you started with the whole, long conversation about it. Repeated two or three times… I got butterflies in my stomach, a little, yeah."

   "Hmm. You sure you like the… speech thing?"

   "Hot. Its as much fun as the… action."

   "Yeah. Your little… interest meter? Says you enjoy it too."

   "Oh. Him. He likes you. Very much."

   "Oh, by the way. Pictures…"

   I showed him.

   "This? Is your boo boo butt, from the first one. This? Is after my hands were on you. Notice anything?"

   He studied the phone pics. Back and forth.

   "Are you sure? Identical."

   "Yeah. You cried, I know it hurt, but…"

   "It stings. After you marked me up good the first time? The hand thing was… stinging, burning… not hurting, if that makes sense."

   "Okay. And the long thin one?"

   "Stings. No matter where you use it."

   "Third picture. After that."

   "Eh. Nothing again, on the main…"

   "Yeah. You can see where the last, long, big switch hits below your butt went. I didn't wanna hit the butt with the big one… that's the red lines on your legs. Um. Starting from scratch? Honestly, that's the way to go, I think. I can get tears, without all this… mess on your poor bum."

   "I'm so glad mommy is looking out for me. What would I do without you."

   "Well. First off? You would still have a choice. Get girls running games on you, while you spend your time, money, and exasperation… running in circles, chasing your own tail… while they're out fucking drunken bums and criminals."

   "Been there. Done that. Got the T shirt. What's behind curtain number two…"

   "You, could go back to getting told you're too nice. But wait, when the girl is fat, pushing 40, got a string of babies from whoever fucked her whatever night… hey, your good luck? She's now ready to settle down. She wants… a nice guy, with a good job. She went to church for 2 weeks, she's a good girl now. You should jump on that deal, huh?"

   "Yeah. Let me get right back to you on that. Just in case I don't like that one… what's behind curtain number three…"

   "Try to find a girl. Who isn't like all the other girls."

   "Uh, they all say that."

   "Yeah. They do. But in my case… its actually true. You'll find out in short order what my tricks are, but… "

   "This girl number three. You know her?"

   "She… is very close to me. Yes. I know her almost as well? As I know myself."

   "I see. She sounds like a good deal, but tell me. She isn't into anything… weird, is she?"

   "No one really knows. So let me ask you a question."

   "Shoot."

   "You like this… fun time."

   "Oh yeah. It was your idea. You do too."

   "Definitely. Now that you had a taste of… adventure? Would you really wanna go back. Stare at my legs, if you need time to think."

   "We've been on three dates. Now? You got me convinced. You're my girlfriend, and I didn't really get a say in the matter."

   "I admit, you could call it crazy. You could also choose to call it non traditional. Well, traditional wasn't working for either one of us by the way. Non traditional might be the best option. When you look at it that way, maybe traditional was the real crazy. I mean, the way normal is now and all."

   "First night together, crazy as it is. What happens, three to six months down the road. When you get bored. When you have a headache. When you don't feel like it."

   "Oh. That bullshit. When you're footing the bill, and they're not in the mood for too long? They are in the mood. Just not for you. Your job? Pay for stuff, do what she tells you. She's out blowing some… I like bad boys! Tee hee!"

   "Wonderful."

   "Listen. How many girls have you dated, you were allowed to just show up. Unannounced. Allowed to borrow their laptop, their cell phone. Without supervision."

   "Fuck me. You're right."

   "My pro tip? Demand those things. Here's what you'll hear. Common courtesy, its rude, its not polite, you have trust issues, this is a privacy thing, you have issues, you're paranoid, have you seen a doctor for these problems. If you don't trust me, that's the basic problem."

   "Huh."

   "Uh huh. That? Is exactly what's going on. Any man falls for that girls night out, I just like a night every week for me and my girls… its cock night. All of them are out on the make. Telling you, girls hate me, all I do is tell the truth."

   "You're different, even though they all say they're different, and almost never are…"

   "You wanna borrow my phone? Laptop? I don't give a shit. Stop over unannounced? I don't care. If I ain't there? Make a sandwich and watch some TV. I'll be back. If you call me? I don't shut my phone off except for class, practice, and games. You can stay over every night, if you don't interrupt homework time. I'm not majoring in basket weaving."

   "Hmm. How much do you cost."

   "I don't cost anything. I live and eat, before you showed up. I'll still live and eat, if you disappear on me. I just won't be doing my little happy dance."

   "Hun?"

   "Yes dear."

   "Fun time. Its… like a drug."

   I smiled. Winked.

   "You? Don't listen to mommy very closely. You should have been paying better attention, when I told you I studied the chess board, and it was mate in three."

   "Two dates in. Drive out here? We were starting our third date. You just announced, out of nowhere, we were boyfriend and girlfriend. That there was no escape. Third date… mate in three… we're… mated?"

   "What did I tell you, right around then."

   "I don't know. You were dancing, something about free will, I was waiting for some… philosophy lesson."

   "I said. Very very soon? You will no longer have free will. You? Will only have the illusion of free will. You will create this illusion for yourself, because that's what people do. Then? I sent you to the car, and basically ordered you to get this, that, and the other. Get my feet dirty? Please. My fucking jogging shoes are right next to me. You like my body, you can't take your eyes off me. I do the one thing you got a tiny taste of, and crave. I give it to you by the pound. Its what I crave, too. Its a compulsion."

   "You're serious."

   I smiled.

   "You wanted to date a girl that looks like me. You were slowly trying to find one of us. One after the other. I was already interested in you, and… got hooked. I suspected on the first date, we met at the party, but after three dates… the jokes… I knew. Couple drinks, couple jokes."

   "Then you cut the crap, and brought it up."

   "I know the jokes. The innuendo. I used them too. No one but people with the same compulsion as us picks up on it. If you don't do it, even if you say something… oh, I was making a joke. Everyone makes jokes. But me and you? We know different. There's… some glint in the eye, that only we pick up on. How long did it take, to go from a few jokes, to…"

   "Not long. You… moved fast."

   "Once I smacked your butt and felt that… interest meter, and… hit your manual over ride and dumped the load… I knew I had you. Right there. I simply analyzed the board, and announced I had won the game."

   "You? Are crazy. But I love it."

   "Now you love me. You just said it. Thank you, dear. Now… I don't allow you to marry me, until we've both graduated. I allow you to propose to me? Anytime after we both have graduated, both have jobs in our careers going, and we're… situated. Then? I allow you to ask me. Actually? I'll probably… just tell you. You'll have to wait till then."

   "You have this all planned out. I can't escape."

   "I called mate in three. You, are a man. You happen to be extra logical, and have an IQ, I'm quite sure of it. I asked around the computer and math department. You? Are eccentric, but… you get called a lot of things, and dumb isn't one of them. Go on. Analyze anything you want, with that big brain of yours. Pick the logical, the best choices. That give you the best results. They're the easiest, and logical choices. The conclusion? its inescapable. You have no free will. It has become an illusion. You? Are now my property. You belong to me. I will do what pleases me, with what I now own. As long as I'm fair, and nice to you, and treat you well? You, will stay. Not because I make you, because you want to. Let's play a game…"

   "Could… we not change the subject for a second? Please."

   "Same subject. The game, is the subject. Indulge mommy. I don't need the whip any longer. I don't need the willow switch. Oh, its going home with me, trust me, but… just come over here. Come."

   He looked at me funny, but he did walk over. I could see on his face, he was a little… scared, but not of getting hurt. He was a little bewildered. Which I can understand, how much his life had changed in one day and night. Hell, I just told him I allowed him to marry me, but only after we both graduated and got careers going and settled into somewhere. And followed it up with the fact, I would probably just tell him it was time.

   "Will you do me a favor? It won't hurt. Mommy promises. If you want hurt? Just ask. But, this won't hurt."

   "What."

   "Kneel. Hands on my ankles, face where you know it goes. Please."

   He looked at me, then did it.

   "Just kiss the tops of my feet like you do. Go on. Now give the tops, where you just smelled? A few licks and quit. Just for a little bit… then? I want you to smell my ankles. I have zero perfume on. I know it sounds nuts, but… smell my ankles. Do one, then the other. Okay, good. Couple little licks, nothing major. Now do both my wrists. Smell both, then the little licks. Good boy. Now? Do mommy's tummy. Yeah… now stand up. Do my neck. Bury your nose in it. Deep inhales… okay. Now a little lick there… ooh, that tickles. Okay. You're done."

   "I'm done with…"

   "You? Are done. I'm about to freak you out, so… just take it in stride. Okay?"

   "All right."

   "Where do you live?"

   "I have my own place."

   "The place you refuse to invite me to."

   "I… have, its complicated."

   "I know where you live. You? To save money, live in the basement of a party house, basically. Three nights a week, you can't sleep until after 3:00 or 4:00 am. You? Hose the basement and mop it after parties, and take the garbage cans out and rinse them out. Hose a few other things off. You have a cot, in a dirt floor… hole in the back. You're handy. You fix stuff around this party house. You pay the water bill, and the few chores you do so you get otherwise free rent. To live in a dirt floor hole."

   "Go on and make fun of me."

   "I'm not. You're on the GI bill. Tuition, books and fees are paid, you get very little per month extra. You have a cell phone bill, and what's left over, goes to cheap food. You're a fitness nut, so, probably healthy shit that's cheap. Chicken, rice, beans…"

   "Are you a burglar too?"

   "No. You own a street motorcycle, that you work on yourself. That's how you get around, and you live a couple blocks from campus. Tell me, where do you shower?"

   "If you know so much…"

   "You shower at the gym. You'll do something to work out every day, and what the hell, grab a shower every night while you're at it. Where do you go to the bathroom, when the door to the basement is locked late at night?"

   "You're not making fun of me though."

   "No. You wouldn't happen to decide to buy a… cheap pack of gum, and use the bathroom at the convenience store gas station, would you? You're pretty regular."

   "You… are…"

   "Oh. You're not freaked out yet. But you will be. When we go home? It will make perfect sense, to come and see my apartment. I'll offer you dinner, a movie. Hell. Might as well stay over. What would it hurt. Oh, it won't hurt a bit, I promise. No secret stuff there, remember. When you wake up, or that night, whichever. I'll show you the shower and tub in the upstairs bathroom. Kinda nice. Have you ever been inside, a townhouse in the Village? Not bad. The rich kids live there, remember."

   "Okay. My… new girlfriend would like me to stay over. See her place. Meet her room mates."

   "Why wouldn't you."

   "I guess I would."

   "Right. Why not just sleep with me, more and more. I know I want you to do it. Why wouldn't you. I think, as a workout health nut? You'll find, that our groceries? Are… planned. We're athletes on scholarships, dear. We're starting players. For a big university, that's this close to a championship every year, but we just miss it. We're close. We can't afford to get fat. Coach has some… dietitian asshole, up our ass. People are always measuring our body fat. Calories, percentage of protein. Body mass index. Once a month, we have to get the tank of water, percentage of body fat thingy. Food's provided, so we'll eat healthy food. Brown rice. Chicken. Beans. Vegetables. Fruit. There's plenty. Would you turn down a free meal? Any night you want. Would you turn down a nice bed, with… me in it? Hmm. Wait till you see the luxury shower, the rich parents pay for them to have. You'll never wanna shower with men in the gym again. You'll be showering, or in the big tub… with me."

   He just stared at me.

   "Laundromat? Why. We have a washer and dryer. Brand new, came with the townhouse. Why not use it. We don't pay utilities. No one can tell college athletes on scholarships, they can't have a lover sleep over. Can't have cranky starting athletes. Have you ever seen the little cock tramps, that stay for weeks at a time, with whatever football player they happen to be sucking off that week? You, are mine. I, am the female version, of the football jock. You? Are my little tramp. Its done. Get used to it. You? Are my property."

   "You're crazy."

   "Don't freak out, but, two of the room mates? Girls that turned you down. The one, you were asking her out for coffee about once a week. For a while."

   "Will she give you a problem…"

   "Oh no. I'm there the longest. Me and the coach? Well… I explained to you, I… handle a few things for him, off the books so to speak. I'll always be head of household. He calls me the only adult on the team. Go figure."

   "She won't…"

   "If she gives you any shit? I'll have a nice little girl talk with her. It won't happen twice. I just have a way with the girls. Me? I can't wait. Oh boy, when I get home from practice, and we take a shower together then we use the tub… would you have a huge problem putting your hands on me, when I ask so sweet. Man, when they find out I'm getting a back rub, a leg rub… soccer spikes kill us, I'm gonna brag about the foot rub in the tub. Smell my neck again, look at my legs… and ask yourself. This girl, wants my hands on her. Huh. Sounds like a good deal."

   "You…"

   "What. You'll be practically moved in, before the month is out."

   "I'm not saying yes… but what's the catch…"

   "If mommy asked you very nice, would you take the garbage out, not when I tell you, when I ask you to?"

   "Uh…"

   "You offer to carry heavy things, for any tall strong female athlete you see. I can't imagine you wouldn't do it for me."

   "Well…"

   "Dishes. How hard would it be. For me to find some way, to convince you to do dishes. Once a night, we're talking five minutes of work. There's a brand new fucking dishwasher. I live with three lazy whores, that can't take out the garbage, and load and unload the dishwasher. No one can understand that if you wipe the kitchen down once a night, it takes literally one minute, if that. Instead, they let it go for weeks. Until we have to chisel god knows what off the wall. Their rooms? The one, has used condoms thrown around. They bring home the absolute dregs, I swear. Can't drag the garbage out though."

   "You want a maid…"

   "Do I? Five minutes a night, tops. Garbage, dishwasher, not washing and drying dishes. Dishwasher. About it. Way less work, way less disgusting, no water bill to pay."

   "I suppose you want me to clean the bathroom…"

   "Actually? Its all stainless and ceramic tile. The floor, the walls, you spray this… hose with foam in it around, whenever it needs it. Hit the button, spray water out of it. Walk out and go to class. When you get back? The heat lamp has it dry and sterilized. Its… one minute a week. I do that, the three lazy whores can't be bothered. You press this red button, it starts a timer, the heat lamps dry and sterilize everything."

   "Who cleans up everything."

   "Oh. That's my job. Naturally, the three lazy whores can't throw anything away. They just drop it wherever they're done with it. I've never seen such lazy pieces of shit, in my life. Yeah, I pick shit up and throw it away. You take out the garbage, we're done. Basically the living room and the kitchen? Are the only common areas. You wouldn't wanna go in their rooms anyways. It looks like a bomb went off. I wasn't kidding, the one? Has used condoms thrown around. Guys go in there, and fuck her. I can't believe it. Would you wanna fuck me a second time, if you were stepping on used condoms, and some other guy's two week old load squirted out on your foot? Yuck. Wait till you see my room. Looks like something in a magazine. I put things away. Its like a magic act."

   "You're serious."

   "When I left for this date? The three lazy whores know, I went on two dates and came home happy. They're making jokes, they can't wait for me to get laid. Apparently, I'm an insufferable cunt because I expect… well. They're giving high fives to each other, counting down until I get, you know."

   He started chuckling.

   "As I left, I said don't wait up. Its the off season, no camps to run for a while. I said you'll be lucky to see me by Sunday, and if its longer, don't call the police. On the way out, I said don't be surprised when I get laid, have a new steady boyfriend that's crazy about me, and I move him in and start getting back rubs."

   "They said?"

   "Lazy whore number one high fives lazy whore number three, and number two did her little dance she does when she scores a goal. Apparently, if I'm getting bent over regularly, I'll be perhaps slightly less of an insufferable cunt? Their plans, anyways. Oh, wait till you see their rooms. I'll show you their pigsty's they wallow with drunken reprobates in when they find them, and that'll be the last time you better ever set foot in any of those three rooms. Now, help me out here, I'm losing track. If I find you set foot in any of those three bedrooms, what was it? I fool you into sexy time, then whip the ever loving shit out of you, like… tonight will seem like a fucking picnic. I forget."

   "No. You said you buy me pizza if that happens. I remember. You insuff---"

   I just gave him a look, and he quit.

   "I'm just kidding. I swear."

   "I know. Why did you shut up so quick."

   "You didn't wink first."

   "Good answer. But seriously. Within the month? Yeah. The three lazy whores were saying that if anyone, how did they put this as delicately as they phrase everything else… oh yes. Whoever agrees to start pity fucking me, they're pitching in to buy them pizza, to pay them for services rendered. I don't know if they're kidding or not. I told them I'm dragging my new steady boyfriend home, so they can see what someone without a criminal record looks like."

   "You're not kidding."

   "Serious as a heart attack. Come, stay for a few nights. Tell me why you wouldn't wanna just stay. You… want a back rub when you get home from the gym? Done. You wouldn't like that? Seriously, this is up against what. You can continue paying the water bill, for a toilet and shower you aren't allowed to use. Cleaning up stale beer and rancid piss. Walking two blocks every time you need to take a shit. Showering with men at the gym. Paying for laundry. Buying food. Where's the contest? As I said. Mate in three."

   "You… anything else you planned out? I wanna know my schedule."

   "Do we wanna stay there just till we graduate, or should we both go to graduate school. Same deal, except the school will pay you a small salary to teach undergraduate introductory courses in Computer Science. I say that, because I hardly see you agreeing to live in the dorm riding herd over 60 dorm room inhabitants for your job. No, you'll teach a couple classes and do that. I'll be offered a salary on top of my scholarship, if I agree to stay and play another two years. Coaches assistant, for starting players they recruit to stay. Look at it this way. You have no bills, you're basically fucking the female quarterback, and… you don't have to fear marriage for another two or three years, and probably years more for grad school to be over. I mean, we just had our third date, so don't worry. I wont be cracking the whip on you to buy mommy a ring for years."

   "You're sure about that."

   "Barring anything unforeseen, who else would you go off with, after we're finally done with school. Yeah. You're going to dump me, pick up with some lying tramp tending bar or waiting tables, some worthless untrustworthy single mommy. With two kids to two different useless fuck-wits. Who you'll have to deal with, because her bastard children ensure those pieces of shit have visitation. She will do to you what the other girls do. The sex will run out, within, oh, 3 to 9 months. She'll go out and start blowing a bad boy who just got out of prison, who gave her vaginal tingles because I love bad boys, tee hee! You? Will be at home watching the bastards some criminal fathered, while she's out getting pregnant to the third one. You will either watch that third one while she goes out whoring around, or… what the fuck, she probably won't even give you the special treats I give you, which you're hooked on, because you have the same compulsion I do."

   "And what crazy shit are you gonna pull?"

   "You have a couple years to find out. Maybe a couple more if we do grad school."

   "Won't the three lazy whores keep me up late, with their criminal boyfriends?"

   "Oh. If they stay up past quiet hours and make noise? I have the keys to the basement, remember. I go down and pop the breakers on their rooms and the living room. Party's over. The coach likes the team to have a few hours sleep? I'm the adult. Remember, I'm the insufferable cunt."

   "Why does the coach put up with…"

   "Oh. You mean what endearing qualities do the three lazy whores bring to the table? Uh. I'm riding herd on those three, that's the best starting line we've had in years, coach says. That's the starting center and the two front wings. They're great, on the field. And in practice. They do usually manage to bring in the required 2.5 minimum GPA to keep their scholarship, majoring in basically basket weaving."

   "This, is supposed to take you to the championship?"

   "It actually might. You should see them play, really. Now, if one of them gets pregnant? I swear to god, I'll rip the little bastard fathered by god knows who out of the very womb and flush it down the toilet myself."

   "I know you're kidding."

   "I am. How much trouble would I get in, if I dropped morning after pills in their coffee, every time they got railed by some loser. Is that even a crime?"

   "Should be a public service."

   "I know, right. Yeah. There's one of me, in every Village townhouse."

   "An… IC."

   "Hmm. That? Actually funny. Now dear."

   "Yes?"

   "You were explaining to me, something about your… free will?"

   "My illusion of free will, actually. And what do you get out of this?"

   "I get a boyfriend, that meets all my criteria for one, as far as I can see. Then, because you have a thing, for tall, strong female athletes? You undoubtedly grant me this… higher 1 to 10 scale rating, than I would normally get. That? Makes me look, as you say, gorgeous to you. And I'm flattered really. I don't normally feel… beautiful, and… that's how you make me feel, the way you stare at me."

   "I don't understand, men aren't…"

   "Dear? You said you used to like women's Olympics. So, you're sitting there, with buddies, flipping channels. You stop on women's Olympics. You, are… what?"

   "Drooling…"

   "Right. And your buddies, they wanna change the channel."

   "Yeah."

   "What do they say about, whatever girl you're drooling over."

   "Oh, I get the shits. I'm used to it."

   "But what do they say."

   "I… don't wanna… are you gonna count to three?"

   "Just tell me. I bet I can guess."

   "Then guess."

   I put the joke male voice on.

   "Whoa dude, what the fuck. Her face, her hair, okay… I give you that, she's… average or better pretty, but… those muscles are… you're borderline gay, dude, what the fuck. She looks stronger than you, ha ha ha. Then? Her height, weight, age and reach flash up on the stats, they shit themselves… then they see her warming up, those muscles start flexing, the other guy says… whoa, you say that shit to her face? She can kick your head off your shoulders. First one now says… dude… let's say you met her, she even wants to fuck you? She's raping you. Its not sex."

   "I heard that one."

   "And its you. What's your witty comeback."

   "And I would let her."

   "Hmm. And I like the sound of that, trust me, little boy. I do. You see, dear. I know what men say about women like me. Been in the room and heard it. Not like we don't occasionally hang out with the guy jocks, you know. The guys that do date us? A lot of them, seems like just something until a regular sized girl comes along. An amazon? Just a novelty to try out. Like, the guy that'll bang a black chick, something to try. You… make me feel…"

   "Gorgeous. Then they call me… almost gay, and make jokes."

   "Now honey? Imagine someone was magically there. You were 17. Said… son? I'm going to give you these here magic beans to eat. You eat them. And when you wake up? One of those… will be yours."

   "Who do I have to kill. Point at him."

   "See honey? I called it. Mate in three. Now, what did those boys, give that girl on the screen. 1 to 10…"

   "Oh. They're like, covering her body up with their hand, hair and face, but then the body… they say, like 4, 5."

   "Right. And what did you give her."

   "Oh. Like 8, to a 9. See, there was this one in the back, she's up a couple later… she's the ten."

   "Little better face, hair done up? Let me guess. There's something more feminine, you can't put your finger on it. The veins in her legs? They're cuter…"

   "Uh… yeah…"

   "I've read about all this. Honey, I'm well aware, trust me. People think I'm too tall, and a little bit chubby. In jeans and a T shirt. And? You were still staring at me when we met. You were already…"

   "Drooling."

   I blushed.

   "Thank you. Okay, drooling. I was dying to show you what I really look like, because… I'm not fat. Those chubby legs and butt? I'm about all muscle."

   "And I about had a heart attack. I… don't know how I got like this. I read comic books as a kid, and maybe the women the way they draw them? Those legs, those abs. When I took the blindfold off, and clicked on the flashlight… its like those artists, were drawing… you."

   "Other men give me what. 4, 5? Oh, I get a notation. Could be higher, but the height, and the muscles, that's dragging it down. Then a guy like you comes along… I know I'm not a 10 by any stretch, but…"

   "Easy 8, 9. But then you have other qualities. You've got this cool, guy personality, tomboy thing…"

   "Told you, I grew up playing tackle football with boys, riding dirt bikes with them. In case you're wondering, the university did a study on female athletes, the ones tall and strong, like me? Among other things, testosterone study. There's a lot of misconceptions. For instance. Very few of us big girls like me? We don't have high testosterone, that's an urban myth. The ones that do? That's… that dyke look. They… they don't have cute faces, cute hands. They have man feet. Ugh."

   "Oh, I know what you mean. Someone took a bull dyke, and ran her ass on a treadmill until she could jog. Ugh…"

   "There's absolutely nothing wrong with me, dear. My hormones are normal. I swear, I'm not the least little bit gay. I've always liked boys. About the only thing you could call out of the ordinary about me… I like to… smack a little boy's naked butt. Oh, the shower room story you were starting to like?"

   "Oh. Yeah…"

   "Where were we… handcuffs on your wrists and ankles. I have you captive, rope over a pipe in the shower room. Tied to your cute little handcuffs, tied over your head. You're just helpless, watching me put on my shower show for you. After I slowly shower you the same way, making you ache for it…"

   "Yeah. Go on. Or is it 5.99 for the next minute…"

   I laughed. That was witty.

   "Hmm. Wet towel snaps."

   "How many."

   I smiled. Shrugged.

   "As many as it takes. Don't worry. It won't be like tonight. It'll be more like… I did keep making polite suggestions, you should have listened… the 20, 40 plan. You dared me."

   "What would… 40 towels be like…"

   "Oh. Gee. I… you can't have one right now, or I would. See? Another thing, in addition to mommy really planned on riding you tops, and… here we go again. You can't get a single, really good wet towel snap. I mean, not bragging but… I have my technique all down and everything. But, mommy promises. As soon as your little boo boo butt is all better? You want a couple wet towel snaps? Just to see."

   "Sounds like fun."

   "Definitely fun for me. For you? Not so much."

   "What's your plan for this, at your apartment."

   "Oh. Shower time? We'll be showering together, you can bank on that, my little dirt bike. You'll be sleeping in my bed, right there where I can grab you and ride you, any time I feel like it. You'll be in the mood. Whenever. Doesn't matter. If you're not in the mood? I'll put you in the mood."

   "Do, you have some… fantasy with the wet towel snaps."

   "You like your lectures?"

   "Yeah."

   "You'll get a short, fun lecture, I'm guessing you'll like. You… will be, coerced? Manipulated. Whatever… into letting me do it. You'll end up bending over, and asking me for your snaps. When you start getting up, and moving around, or complaining… you'll get that lecture voice you seem to love… oh. Every time you move… more snaps. Keep it up. Until eventually, you manage to somehow stay still for enough of them, that we get done. You'll be… other things will be looming over you, if you don't comply, so… in the end? You will, somewhat willingly, we'll say… let it happen."

   "I'm…"

   "Yeah. I can see your… interest meter taking an interest in this story. Another rough sex fantasy, that'll come true. It'll never end. You? Are my property. And you like it. Get over it."

   "I'm afraid to ask, what the hell daddy looks like."

   "Oh my. You? Are now being a good little boy. Just like I knew."

   "What did you know? Or dare I ask."

   I shrugged, and smiled suggestively.

   "The compulsion. The naughty pictures that float in, on autopilot. As soon as I smacked your butt in your jeans, walking by. Then the next time you stuck it out, you said I forgot to smack it. I blushed a little later. The picture I got? Okay… I said to myself, oh yeah. I think all I have to do, is bend this one over. Put a nice, hard whip across his ass enough times. He'll do what I want, and like it. Then? What did I do."

   "Yeah. Nothing like that, at all. Why am I such a good little boy now?"

   "I just explained. Because, I bent you over and put my whip hard enough across your naked ass, and made you listen. Weren't you listening."

   "No. What was so good about what I said that made you say I was being good?"

   "Oh! You went, from arguing you weren't my boyfriend, to looking forwards to meeting my family. It'll happen, sooner or later. I'll either take you out on dirt bikes, or maybe a little late night trip to the barn in the back, where its privacy time for us. Whatever."

   "I asked what daddy looks like."

   "Yeah, that. Does it matter."

   "Circus midget, huh?"

   "My mom is, what? 5'10", maybe?"

   "And daddy…"

   "Oh. Maybe like… 6'5", 6'6"…"

   "Skinny little shit. Beanpole."

   "Actually… you know those pro football player gorillas? Naturally look like body builders, before they train to be pro ball guys? He's… one of those."

   "I'm just sure, he'll love meeting the guy that's bending his delicate little princess over the hood of her car, and giving it to her rough like she needs it."

   "I… have never brought a boy home from college before? I haven't had that many. I wouldn't know."

   "I'm calling bullshit."

   "Good call. He's a daddy. He has a little girl. What do you want him to be like. Hold my legs open for you? Buy you beer to get me drunk so I'll kick and scream less? He's a daddy."

   "You never kick and scream."

   "We've been fucking for a couple hours. Like you'd know what all I do. Besides. Most of the kicking and screaming? Has come out of… you. Then? You got something to kick and scream for, didn't you?"

   "When do you kick and scream?"

   "Didn't say I did it all the time, didn't even say I ever did it, but… if it could be fun, we could work something out."

   "I'm afraid to ask."

   "You just did. I guess, instead of bending me over the hood, I'm face up. I'm pretending to resist. Mm. That could be hot."

   "I thought you liked to be in charge."

   "I do. But, like the hood… a girl wants roughed up now and then."

   "You, are a naughty little girl."

   "I can be."

   When we were finally done, we shared some more of the joint, and had some brandy. I took sips from the bottle for myself, but I taught him that I would take sips, hold it in my mouth for him, and I would kiss it into his mouth. It was intimate. The afterglow from such lengthy sustained pleasure, the effects of the joint, and the sips of kiss shared brandy… all mingled together to produce a sensation I would have great difficulty describing any better, than simply pure distilled relaxation and pleasure.

   We laid together in this state for a while. I was on my back, and he was up against me with a leg slung over me, keeping his poor behind up. I'm not sure either one of us planned on falling asleep. Now? Sure, deep, slow and regular breathing was telling me that I would have to wait for morning to try to get my ride. Oh well. I had been licked several times, and the first one had been a real gem. Mm. Never had that done that long before, never once close to it. Obeying suggestions the whole time, I loved it. If I had told him he was squirming putty when I whispered naughty nothings in his ear, and touched him? I was moaning putty myself, when licked for too long like that. Hands on his head, my thighs touching his ears, my knees over his shoulders and my legs down his back. I remember blindfolding him at one point, so he wouldn't see me eating the corner of the blanket to keep from screaming.

   I looked him over in the early morning light. Quite nice. There was no question he worked out. He was well muscled. He just didn't have that I'm trying to be a bodybuilder look so many of the really big guys had, if they could. We had seen him 5 miles from campus jogging once, that meant 5 miles back. Plus twice whatever more mileage he did after we zoomed by before heading back. With his clothes on, you could find yourself thinking he was more of a regular guy, if things were loose enough and flowing. I'm still a girl, I notice. He was like me, jeans and a T shirt, or jogging pants and sweatshirt. Never caught him once in cut off T's or sleeveless, trying to show off to get girls.

   It was almost like he didn't want attention from girls, but I knew better. Now, anyways. He had been raised to be a nice guy. Didn't get into trouble, good grades. Being polite to people. What had it gotten him, following all the rules? I had heard it, and I knew what he had described well. I pitied him for going through that. All work and no play, always chasing a piece of hay dangled off of a stick dangling in front of his face. Trotting some girly girl, riding in a cart hooked up behind him. He had been their slave and hadn't known it, the poor guy. He deserved better. Hell, a lot of guys did.

   When I had gotten recruited into the girls click, I thought I had finally arrived. Being girly was never my thing, but a day or two a week was something different. I'd never had girls around me like that before. Got to see them do their nails and hair. Basics of makeup, and how to tie my hair up. I got to see a lot more than that though, hadn't I. My guy friends? Were actually my friends. I was one of them. They took me for a guy. I was told I was an "honorary guy". I got to hear them talk about girls open and honest, and when a new guy would look at me as if I were a girl, the others would laugh and explain.

   I learned to operate on guy rules growing up. My mom didn't play games with dad. Dad didn't play games with the farmhands. Guys all tease and fuck with each other, and if you cry and pitch a fit? You get laughed at, you lost. If you can take it, and give it back? Everyone will laugh and enjoy the show. Once they can't get your goat, the group moves onto someone else. Hazing was acceptable and expected. If someone's pissing you off, and its not normal teasing? You tell them. They keep it up? You might take a swing at them. You don't carry on behind their back about it. Don't act like a girl.

   Someone pushes you? You push them back. Someone buys you ice cream when you're broke, though? Don't make them ask you when they're broke and you got a five dollar bill on you. Guys won't ask, you're expected to make them take the ice cream if they act like they don't want it. Guys don't hug and kiss, and profess how much they love each other. But, deep down, once you're one of them? There's nothing they won't do for one another, without being asked.

   You're supposed to have each other's back. You're a pack. You're a team. Every member has a strength and brings something. Every member has a weakness, and should get it covered. You get caught throwing corn? You don't rat your friends out, you take it. They won't rat you out now. You're expected to show loyalty. They didn't call it honor and dignity like the coaches did, but that's what it was. Showing these qualities got you rewarded and you moved up the pecking order, and it took time. Lacking these qualities or failing tests that came along, got you demoted or cast out. It hurt. You learned what was expected of you. You were expected to take the extra teasing, and rise back up.

   Guys respect money and looks like any human, but they had more. That shit was secondary. If you thought you were gonna be hot shit because your daddy was all fired important, or because your family had money? You were in for a rude awakening. Your dad's a big guy, you aren't. You're not more important because your family has money. We don't like you now, get the fuck out. We know we aren't all equal, and we like to compete and show off. But in some way we're all equal, underneath it all. I liked it. But, once I got a taste of the girls finally? I went back. I found out I'd not just liked it, but that I'd loved it.

   When I started hitting "the age", the guys joked with me but they knew I was off limits. I quickly abandoned trying to kiss my guy friends. Too fucking awkward, and one fight I had to break up told me that shit wouldn't work at all. I had to go outside the group for that. I became actually one of the guys. The problem was that I was picking up their rules, too. If you can't walk up and tell a girl you like them? You deserve to not get kissed, or get a date. Don't be a girl about it. I already knew not to play games with people, that was girl shit.

   I wasn't in the locker room with them, but I knew what went on. About the only difference, was I didn't pee in front of them. Don't act like a baby and cry when you get hurt. If you're sick, fine, but don't carry on like a baby. Don't be such a girl about it.

   Then, sudden induction into the girl's click. Okay at first. But… I was shocked at what was going on. The gossiping, and I don't mean for fun. Mean. Laughing at how easy it was to get what you wanted. Which teachers were pervs and you could act sweet and get away with anything, even better grades than how you actually performed on tests. Laughing and bragging how to get boys to do anything you wanted. How you were expected to cover for any lie, automatically. Us against them. Girls against boys. And, girls were winning and knew it. Don't put out, you'll get more dates and presents and rides and anything else you want. Sneak off and fuck with the guy that actually turns you on. Bad boys.

   God, I hated that term. Most of these so called bad boys? Were anything but. Most of them were sissies. They just strutted around, and ran their mouth like a bitch. These girls giggled and loved it. I figured it would all get better, but it didn't. I was being expected to hook them in with sports guys. Get sports boys they wanted to hang out with. I was able to get us invited to other town's sports guys parties. Whee… they ran around and fucked football players from the next school over, and I was expected to keep it a normal girl's secret. Well, if the guys went and broke a window, I was expected to keep my mouth shut about that as well. Okay.

   Then, the show boyfriend shit. He keeps your parents happy, he makes you look like a good girl. Good girl? The word had no meaning. The only good girls? Were the ones who weren't in the big click, who weren't popular. I drew the line, when it was one of my guys getting shit on. His girlfriend, that I knew he thought the world of, and was bending over backwards to please her? She was fucking everyone else but him. I did it the guy way. I got her alone, and I tried to explain it. That? Is one of my friends. We grew up together, we swim every summer, we ride dirt bikes. Don't you understand the concept, of friend?

   She laughed. Oh, I can have him next, she's almost bored anyways. No, I explained what I meant. She just looked at me, like I was from another planet. Fuck it. I left the girls click, and went back to my guy crew. When I was "back" full time, they were happy. When they knew I was too quiet, something was bothering me, though? One of them sat with me at the fire, and wanted to know what the problem was. Fuck it, I told him we had to tell the guy. Hell, I had to tell them what all the girls were doing to them. It disgusted me. I knew I liked boys and boys only, but… I sure didn't want to run with the girls.

   That was how I had gotten to be a complete tomboy. I knew I didn't want to go back, either. Sports girls were the next best thing to being one of the guys. And by the time I hit college, even they were learning or had already learned, how to be a girl that way. It was advantageous. Its how I got to be an insufferable cunt. This one sleeping on me, had gone through the girl's wringer, and all but given up on girly girls. He must have had a tomboy in his group, at some point. He had to have gotten an appreciation of them from somewhere. He was making the rounds of all us tomboys, looking for his own.

   Girls, most of them anyways, feel no guilt whatsoever. Most guys? Do. I felt guilt. Guilt was good. If you "borrowed" five bucks without asking? Guilt tickled your tummy, and you spent ten on them later, so you taught yourself a lesson. And you didn't do it anymore, because you didn't like your tummy tickled that way. That was your dignity, some basic sense of honor. That was my… guy soul I knew I had. If it made me an insufferable cunt? So be it.

   That guilt gnawed at me now, looking down at him. A lot of guys that went through what he had, but never came out of it. They turned into jelly. Others, turned into male whores and assholes. I couldn't really blame them, even if I didn't like it. My tummy tickled more, and threatened to turn over. Girls were ruining the contract, whatever unspoken arrangement had existed for centuries between men and women. I felt that guilt, because I hadn't gotten beyond interested, and into wet in my panties, until I had found out he was actually very masculine. Then, guiltier still when my panties got a little squirt and not just moist, seeing those videos.

   I should have known better. I'm a guy too, after all. Some guys have a loud mouth, and can back it up as well. That was true. My group had a couple. But, I also knew there were quiet ones. Guys admitted it around campfires to each other, the time they thought they were pushing around some guy, and got the surprise of their life. Almost all quiet and polite guys were pushovers. Not all of them, though. There were a few wolves in sheep's clothing running around, and it was bad luck to come across one, and go too far.

   Big farm boy in my group, would always get reminded about some quiet little boxer he had fucked with at some other town's party, on vacation. He swore, the guy was a tiny little shit, too. The boys laughed, yeah, it happens. You were being a complete dick though, weren't you? He admitted it. Yeah, I was. There it was. Guy honesty, guy dignity. My tummy told me all about my guilt. This guy wasn't little. If a little wrestler, a little boxer made even my biggest farm boys check their morale, what was this one capable of. I had seen the video. I knew. My gut had me checking him out from day one, and kept me checking him out. Thank god, or I wouldn't have gotten lucky and came across a series of fortunate circumstances that led me to my discoveries. My soaking wet panties.

   I smiled. I felt the sudden urge to swat that marked up ass, and see him startle awake. A wet towel snap, when you're swimming with the boys. Oh, I got them back from the boys at the swimming hole. Trust me, I'm one of the guys. They wouldn't spare me. We all did it. How had it turned sexual though? It had. I had started wearing a bikini finally. One of the guys had got me good, bending over to pick up my suntan lotion. Perfect target, unaware. The hell was that for? He had to banter back. That, was for dressing like a whore, little girl. What happened to the soccer shorts, huh? Ha ha. If I complained, I wasn't one of the guys. I got him back a little later, and snapped and almost caught him in the nuts. The guys all laughed. I was one of them.

   Was that when it started to get… slightly sexual? Maybe. My summer pool boyfriend was soon after that. Getting my towel snaps before making out, cemented it. It started out innocent. I'll make out with you, but I need something back, that guarantees you won't tell. Bending over for wet towel snaps, then making out, had done it. I was craving some sexual experience, and terrified of getting in trouble with my parents. And worse than that, was other kids finding out.

   So, innocent as it was the first time? It became our little ritual. If I had some urge before that, I hadn't known. But, that first ritual felt good. A couple more, once a week? I knew I liked it. It went so well, I learned to make out with a boy and get comfortable and good at it. I wanted to touch him with my hands and my mouth, and not worry about… igniting a little green alien in him. I wanted his hands and mouth back on me. The ritual. The bargain. Let's go on a hike. I want a lot of wet towel snaps. Here's what we get to do for a long time afterwards. I need to tie your hands, so things don't get out of control. He had agreed.

   I would never come back from that, with any shred of not knowing now. I had hit the crack pipe one too many times, I guess. Hooked. After that, you just knew. You could not do it, but the desire would always be there. My pool boyfriend out on the trails, hands tied to a tree. For towel snaps. A few tears and some begging. Then, hands tied so I got to keep things from going too far. No. It was already sexual before, and that was just the final proof. I was ruined. The rest of my life, I would make little jokes and innuendo. When they came back, there we go. Here's another one.

   I looked down at him. Never dreamed I could even get this, though. Fucking internet. If you like to fuck dead roadkill, there's an internet site dedicated to it. It was my guilty pleasure, to read about it. Holy shit. There were more of me, lots of them. I wanted it kept private. Just for me and my guy. That's not how to get into big fun playtime, though. But here it was. I was so lucky, and I knew it. Doing without had taught me to treasure it when I found it. I had found everything I wanted, and nothing I didn't want.

   Tall. No pretty boy, but a handsome rough and rugged thing I knew I liked. Equal measures of tough and shy that were irresistible. I didn't need kneeling at my feet, kissing them, but… oh god, the pleasure that only a willing victim can give you that way. I was going to be able to do anything I wanted with him. Any dirty image that flitted through my filthy little mind, I could get. I could ask. I could demand. There it was. Freely given, too. Begged for it. Then thanked for it afterwards. No, I knew I was dirty now. And I knew I liked it.

   He saw me different, too. I was his pin up girl. When I was with him, I felt gorgeous and confident. Being tall and strong made me an 8 or 9 to him, it didn't lower me to a 4 or 5 like all the other guys. My tummy told me what I needed to know. Don't fuck this up. It'll be easy, but don't get bored and take it for granted, or you might never get another one of these. He was stirring on his own. Glad I fought the urge to smack that ass and wake him up.

   "Good morning."

   "Hmm. It certainly is."

   "And how did my sex crime victim sleep, huh."

   "Fine."

   "How's your little butt feel."

   "Well…"

   "Yeah. When I say I'm sorry, I mean it. But, when I say I'm not sorry, I guess you know what I mean about that, right?"

   He smiled.

   "Yeah. Its fine."

   I snapped a picture of his butt with my phone, and asked him if he wanted to see it. He did. I told him to brace himself.

   "Oh gee."

   "Wanna talk about it?"

   "Trying to get me in the mood as soon as my eyes are opened? Shameless."

   "We can do that a little later. You're not mad."

   "Why would I be mad."

   "You're happy?"

   "I dared you. I kept daring you. You did it. What would the problem even be."

   "I read about this stuff. You know how the internet is. You too?"

   He giggled.

   "Sure. I had a chance to… you know. Decided to take it. What if I never get to again."

   His marks had turned into a bruised butt. What I would have described last night as a well marked ass? The marks had turned into bruise lines. In the centers, the bruise lines had teamed up to make bigger bruises. If swatting was the drinking the night before, this was the hangover.

   "Here, look again. See the marks on your upper legs?"

   "Hmm. I know. You picked that one switch to be your favorite."

   "I'm learning quick. Marks and tears, and you can still sit down, maybe. I need something, you know. You can't get shit done with your hand."

   "Hmm. Your hand really works after you did that, though."

   I remembered. It was intoxicating, to smack an already marked up butt, and get results from every hand swat. It had made me feel powerful. He looked at me, and I was curious what he would say.

   "Do I have your permission, to… touch you?"

   "You're touching me now. You slept on me."

   "I was just checking. We still don't have clothes on. Figured it wouldn't hurt to run it by you, just in case. You said, you're in charge in bed."

   "Oh. What are you asking for. Probably all right."

   "I wanna run my hands over you. Its light out. I get to see your body. I like it. Am I allowed?"

   "You're asking my permission?"

   "Your body. Your rules. Tell me."

   "I want your hands on me. Sure."

   "What do you want?"

   I drew my legs up and pointed. Smiled. He smiled back, and lowered his gaze. He was blushing suddenly. Bad.

   "Oh, I forgot how bad you blush. You, are cute when you blush. Go on. I don't even need to tell you now, do I?"

   "No…"

   He slid down on the blanket, and grabbed my ankles gently. Put his face on my feet I had drawn together when I drew my feet up. He kissed them once, and waited.

   "Go on. I like it."

   "Thank you…"

   "You're welcome. I can't believe you're going to be this good to mommy."

   "Polite suggestions…"

   I sat there, and thank god he didn't look up at me. I was blushing bad. This, was pampering. It was also very intimate. My girlfriends weren't getting this. I was. I let him stay there a while. He thought, well honestly I don't know exactly what he thought. I just waited for my blush to fade slowly. Then I won't lie, a little more. When I spoke, I was afraid I'd blush, and I didn't want him to see.

   "Keep doing that. Don't stop, don't talk. I'll tell you when to look up. I'll do the talking."

   The kisses had little licks. Intoxicating.

   "Look. I wasn't ready for this much. You? Are a little too eager to please me. I was a little too eager to get pleased. Do you understand."

   I wasn't using the speech voice. I was talking warm and soft.

   "Yes."

   "I got everything I wanted last night. I want to reward you now. Do you want pleased?"

   "Yes."

   "Then kiss, and lick, your way up here and take it. There's no point to punishment, and learning to behave… if you don't get rewarded for it."

   I had to stop him from yet another licking on his way up.

   "You did that enough last night. Keep coming up here…"

   "Now fuck me any way you want. I need to know what you like, too. If you want to give it to me soft and slow? I like that. But if you wanna stab me and hurt me, do it. Anything… you… want."

   He did both. First one, then the other. I laid there under him, waiting for him to grow soft again. I could feel a racing heart from climax thudding, and it was slowing. His breathing would slow down over time as well. We both had the light sweat from exertion in the early morning sun. When he laid next to me finally, I waited to speak to him.

   "That was nice. Thanks."

   "You're welcome."

   "Hmm. You, have been trying so hard to impress me, haven't you."

   "Yeah."

   "Just so you know, I'm trying very hard to impress you, too. I meant what I said. I'm not like the other girls. You don't have to keep trying to impress me, and jumping through hoops, trying to get somewhere. I'm already impressed. Or we wouldn't be here right now. Okay?"

   "Okay."

   "Great."

   A pause happened that wasn't awkward.

   "Remember my original plan, was to ride tops on you? But your poor butt. So…"

   He nodded. I could feel the nod on my shoulder where he laid.

   "Well. Much like that. Part of my plan, was to take you out to eat. My treat. They do say, the way to a man's heart, is through his stomach."

   "There's another path too, you know. You already covered that one."

   I giggled, and it made his head jump.

   "Well, okay. I want both my bases covered. Problem is though… I don't think you sitting down for a big meal is going to feel very nice right now, is it?"

   I knew he was blushing.

   "I really don't know. We could try."

   "Hmm. I don't wanna get to the restaurant, and have the whole place staring at me because you're crying."

   He laughed in my chest.

   "What?"

   "No, sorry. I was thinking about your… description of 1910 last night. Remember?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Well. I'm thinking of what happened to me, if I didn't finish my plate."

   We laughed together, that was humorous. I hadn't planned on any "speech" talk right now, but I couldn't help it.

   "Hmm. Old school. Chewing with your mouth open, elbows on the table. Talking at the dinner table. Yeah… acting up, thought because you weren't at home, you could get away with murder, huh? Oh yeah. A little boy acts up like that, they get taken out to the back seat of the car, for a nice little discussion."

   "Hot… go on…"

   "Its obvious. Over mommy's lap. In the back seat. Told you about having something in the car to deal with little problems like that. That's what the short, thick switch was for. Let the little boy know, that there was something under the seat that could handle such a situation. Then? You take them back in, and watch them squirm in their seat. Sore ass. Not to mention, you just wait till I get you home, mister. They get taken down to the barn, and get the big one used on them. Right on that sore ass, and you really give it to them good then. Because they already know not to do it, they're defying you thinking they can get away with it in public. You obviously have to teach them a real lesson, that they'll never forget."

   "Very hot. And you didn't even use your… speech voice."

   I laughed again, and he did too.

   "I don't need a switch right now. I can get spectacular results with just some light swats with my hand, huh."

   He buried his face in my neck and whispered into my neck.

   "I'm actually scared to get smacked now. Yeah… please don't. I promise I'll be good. I'll do whatever you say. I promise."

   I giggled.

   "That's hot too."

   I waited to see about it.

   "We have to do something. Let's go see if you can sit down."

   We walked to the car, to see. He could sit down, but… just in the sense he was technically sitting. He had to lower himself slowly, and sit just right. Fidgeting and squirming was clearly an issue. His face looked at me hopefully, but we both knew this wasn't a go.

   "Tell you what. Next weekend? We'll both be more ready. Now I know the long thin switch gets me what I want, and you can still get taken out to dinner. But this weekend? I got another plan. Did you see the little metal box thing in the trunk when you were in there?"

   "It was night time. Wouldn't have noticed."

   "Yeah. That's my little portable grill. I use it to make lunch for me and my girls, when we're out at the practice field all day. If I can't take you out for a steak, I can buy you one and make it for you here."

   "Really?"

   "Sure. Why not."

   "Oh. Okay. If you say so."

   "No. I think, I know what just went on. We're going to go over this, right now."

   "What."

   "This is like… finish it. Tell me what you were thinking. I think I know, but I wanna hear you say it. Why did you think it was weird I'd cook for you. I wanna hear it out of your mouth. Speak."

   "Uh. You know. Paying for dinner. Modern girl thing. But you never expect a girl to cook for you."

   "Yeah. I figured as much. Look. I wasn't taking you out to eat, to be a… modern girl. I was going to take you out, because I wanted to be nice. You think I'm a feminist? I'm not. I hate all that shit. I… think it'd be nice to cook for you, staying at my apartment. I told you, there's rewards for making mommy feel pretty."

   "Gorgeous."

   "Yeah. I can't very well smack your ass in the back seat, over my knee right now. Wouldn't fit in very well with the whole… I'm not a feminist thing, would it?"

   We both laughed. The whole thing was funny. I tousled his hair affectionately, sitting there, trying to sit for me.

   "Look. I know what I am, and I know you like it. But… I keep telling you. That ends in the bedroom. Yeah. I'm in charge there. Its what I want. Hell, its what I need. But, when our clothes are on, the rest of it? I'm not like that. I'm a regular girl, outside of the bedroom. Okay?"

   "What do you expect, outside of the bedroom then? Tell me how to make you happy."

   "Oh. Not hard. Just don't act like a jerk. I don't like being constantly interrupted. Talked over. Corrected. Okay, I know how that sounds, after last night's naughty time, but… I like you? Because you didn't do that shit on our first two dates. I'm a regular girl outside of the bed. Just use common sense. And yeah, I loved it when you pulled my chair out for me, and held doors open for me. I like being treated like a girl. Because I am."

   "Whatever you say."

   "Hmm. Even shopping. Lets get you something…"

   I held his hand and helped him up and out, and I folded up a blanket for him to sit on and try it out.

   "Better?"

   "Better. Thanks."

   "No problem. We can't go shopping naked though. Would… you like to dress me?"

   "Okay."

   "Come on…"

   I helped him out, and we went over to the blanket. I snapped my fingers and pointed. He was already coming though, from the moment he saw me sit down, draw my knees up, and put my feet together. I enjoyed a couple minutes of it, it never got old. Then, I handed him my socks. He put them on for me, as I held my feet out one at a time. I handed him my panties, and I stood up and he held them for me to step in, and he pulled them up and around me gingerly. He did the same thing with my jeans, and came up and put my shirt on for me. I hadn't planned on it, but he went down and held my ankles one at a time, and put my jogging shoes on for me.

   "My turn…"

    I returned the favor. I dressed him as carefully as he had me.

   "See? Only in bed. Okay?"

   He nodded.

   We had to drive for a while, to get to something resembling a store. I had to watch potholes, because a bad bump made him wince. I felt bad, then not. He got what he asked for. He had wanted it. The fact that he had "got what he asked for" in that sense, was just the manner in which it came. That was a naughty thought, the compulsion visiting. You entertain it, another will come join its friend that didn't get kicked out. I got slightly uncomfortable myself, realizing I could pull over, take him in the back seat over my knee. That just my bare hand was temporarily powerful enough to reduce him to a screaming and crying mess, and in very short order, too. I could teach him any lesson at all, and it would be learned quick.

   The fact that I knew I couldn't do it without putting a job on his butt first with something in my hand to make it possible, didn't stop me from getting a little tingle. I squeezed in a couple bumps to enjoy the performance. I knew I couldn't ask about the back seat, or he'd try to impress me with it. So, I made do with secretly enjoying a bump or two. Old fashioned country store thing finally happened. The original convenience store.

   "So. Lets look around."

   We browsed aisles, and in a little country store there weren't a lot. They concentrated on the basics, and this was something more like the original corner store. You don't see these anymore, and you're lucky to find one nowadays. I explained to him how nostalgic this was. Tiny little deli across the back. One display case wide. One center aisle split the long, thin store. A double aisle with shelves on both sides. Shelves down both walls, too. Candy and quick stuff near the cash register in the front, where a sliding glass door had milk and orange juice competing against a little cold soda for space. Tiny freezer the same way.

   The older man at the register, said if we wanted anything out of the deli, we had to ask. I told him we would browse first, then I would get him. He told me to suit myself.

   I walked up and down every aisle slowly with him in tow. I had already teased him this morning. He asked me one too many times to go in on food, and I got tired of explaining to him that it was my treat. I stopped at the hood of the car and pointed at it with a wink. When he bent over, I grabbed his wallet out of his back jeans pocket, and locked it in the trunk. Then we had set off.

   Now, when I asked him what he wanted? I realized he wasn't telling me what he wanted, he was telling me what he was used to.

   I glanced up front and we were at the far end. I didn't want to be the girl that was snapping at her boyfriend, let alone in public. I was taught as a toddler, you don't yell at a dog then wonder why it doesn't feel like being around you. Treats and sweet nothings, and the dog will follow you anywhere. I lowered my voice and touched his arm first, and politely lowered my voice.

   "Listen. My original plan? Was to take you out for a steak or something. So pretty please, with sugar on top… quit pointing at cans of soup. If I'm going to cook for you, I'm not impressing you very much if all I do is open a can of soup. Besides. That's not soup. That's… imitation soup. Now. You come stay with me? I'll show you what real soup is."

   "Sounds like bait."

   "It is. I intend to trap you there."

   I rubbed his shoulder, and pointed.

   "Meat. Steak?"

   "I eat steak. I also got hooked on pork."

   "Oh. You want pork chops?"

   He pointed at the pork steaks. Of course. These things came from big to bigger, depending on where you got them. These were pretty big. Naturally, he was used to cooking on a hot plate. I was sure of that. I knew what I had planned to spend on two steaks eating out. Buying them at the store would be enough of a bargain.

   "Do you really like big pork steaks? Its not just a…"

   "Truth? Started out like that. When I left for the service, you could still get a twenty dollar New York strip at a steak house. By the time I got out 4 years later? You're lucky to buy your own for that. But the last couple years…"

   I knew it, we all did. Food had skyrocketed since the last election.

   "Started out by looking at four or five big pork steaks… instead of one measly New York strip to take home. But I got hooked on the damn things. If you're asking me what I want, there you go."

   Christ. I could get several of these huge, thick things instead of the steaks.

   "All right. But I'm getting other stuff then."

   I waved the older guy back, and pointed at the deli case, and he waved and came back and got behind to wait on us.

   "Now what can I get you kids."

   "Thinking pork steaks. Worried about keeping them till we eat them."

   "You spend twenty bucks or better? I'll throw in a big bag of ice for nothing. Even throw them in a zip baggie so they don't get wet. Local teenagers used to get steaks, now they get pork steaks for cooking out. I'm used to it."

   "I'll beat your twenty. I'll take four of the big ones."

   "Anything else?"

   "We're doing a weekend picnic. I'm thinking."

   "Everyone likes the barbecue pack…"

   He pointed at a little handwritten note sign. Two pounds of ground meat, two pounds of bulk hot dogs, came with the buns and paper plates and ketchup, too. Napkins and other stuff, like salt and pepper and cups.

   "And that."

   I looked at my date, correct that, my boyfriend. Smiled.

   "We're staying Sunday too."

   "Anything else."

    "I love the deviled eggs. Ooh! Pickled eggs. You eat pickled eggs? I'll get some extra."

   "Deviled eggs, I remember from home. Pickled eggs? No."

   "No you don't eat them, or no you don't know."

   He shrugged.

   "Give me two deviled eggs, and would you cut a pickled egg in two, please?""

   He passed them over in a little cardboard boat.

   "Open…"

   I shoved it in.

   "Chew."

   He nodded as I shoved my half in. Then, I put a deviled egg in his mouth before mine, and he nodded again.

   "I guess the big tray of deviled eggs, and… how do pickled eggs come. By the dozen, or…"

   "I usually fill up a zip bag, unless you only want a couple."

   "Okay."

   "Meet you up front."

   I got a case of cold drinks, and a little tub of real butter.

   I paid and the older guy asked if we were wandering in from the state park, and he idly pointed the other direction than we had come from.

   "No. I just wanted a picnic somewhere I wouldn't have parties and cars driving around. We're back that way."

   "Oh. Making use of the old mine property."

   "I didn't see any barns or houses or anything. Figured it wouldn't hurt anything."

   "No. Mines closed since before I had my first gray hairs. Just gas wells around up there now. You park out of sight of any of the trails, no one cares what you do."

   We went off. I now had extended my weekend third date, to cover Friday, Saturday, and now Sunday too. Now with the ice and extra food, I was thinking about Monday as well. I was already better than my normal self. Landing a boyfriend I liked, and getting fucked regularly probably would make their life easier. I hadn't even had my morning coffee, and I wasn't even cranky.

   I hit one or two bumps on the way back. On accident, of course. I couldn't help it, seeing him wince was cute.

   When we got back, I had him undress me slowly now that we were back. He reversed dressing me earlier, and ended up kissing the tops of my feet. I knelt in front of him, and did it back for him, minus only the kneeling and kissing at the end. I'm sexually dominant in bed, and those subtle cues go a long way.

   "Let me show you what you get today… you've been a good boy…"

   I came up on my knees, and gave him a long, sloppy wet blowjob. I'm not a blowjob queen, so I know I can't deep throat like a complete cock slut. Girls talk though, and the girls that can? Brag. One told me though, all you have to do is get used to using your hand. Get him soaking wet, for a while with your mouth and tongue. You want your saliva dripping off. Its slightly dirty, and they love it. You can tease with your tongue as long as you feel like it, the longer the better. Just when he thinks you can't do anything but use your tongue, your hand makes it better. Now he can still fuck your mouth, with your soaking hand in front of it. Kinda like a hand job and a blowjob at the same time.

   I had to put his hands on my head, to give him the idea he could now fuck my face, it was okay. That was after a long time of tongue teasing, and mouth work. When I was done, I smiled and brought him down on his knees with me. Anything else I wanted to try and had never tried, I could now. When we had our clothes off, he would listen to me. I grabbed his head and put it back, and surprised him with the sudden taste. I kept the whole load in my mouth, and slowly kissed it back to him.

   When I was done, I clamped my wet, dripping hand over his mouth tight, and pinched his nose. Which made him swallow. He gave a little jump when he realized what I wanted and had started doing to him. But he didn't try to pull away. His face was so red, I smiled as I wiped the back of my dry hand off my mouth, and wiped my wet hand on his chest.

   "Did you like it?"

   He did, and blushed and smiled and kind of raved about it.

   "I didn't know how you would react to… helping me clean up at the end. Never tried that trick before."

   He blushed and said it was fine, and he was happy to be my first.

   "I'm trying anything I ever heard about that sounded okay. Its fun to have someone like you. If you enjoy my technique, you can expect to get more of them. More than twice a year, trust me. You can get one of those practically anywhere."

   "Definitely."

   "It would be polite to thank me, though. Don't you think?"

   I smiled, and sat on the blanket. With my knees pulled up.

   "You know how I like to be thanked. Feel free to tell me all about how much you liked it. How much you can't wait to get more. How good you promise me you'll be. Because you want more of those. I'll tell you when you're done."

   He went about it, and I sat there and blushed. This was heaven.

   "See… when you behave, nice things happen. Don't they."

   He agreed and thanked me, and after a little while I told him he was welcome. I had to tousle his hair, and tell him that welcome, meant that he was allowed up now.

   He stayed, but rubbed my legs instead of my ankles now.

   "Is it polite, to return the favor without being told."

   "It is. But We'll do that later, okay?"

   "Okay."

   "Hmm. We have all day. What should we do for a while. Give me ideas."

   "What did you have in mind."

   "I know you can't sit very well, but what about a walk. We're alone, but we could put clothes on. I'm not embarrassed, but I don't wanna freak out anyone that we might see."

   "Can I dress you again?"

   "Did you like that? Sure."

   I enjoyed the pampering of getting dressed, then did it back. I had a few things in my little beach bag in the trunk, and grabbed that. I took a few cans of pop too. He was content to walk behind me, I had changed into little workout shorts and a little sports bra. I smiled back at him, to let him know I appreciated the way he liked looking at my legs working. I showed him "our" willow tree, and he blushed. I followed the outflow of the spring, and we eventually found a creek. It slowly widened and deepened as other springs and littler tributaries fed it. Walking along it finally produced a deep enough swimming hole. No one was around.

   "So. Looks good enough for a swim. Mommy could use something for a bath, if you're going to keep kissing my feet, right?"

   "I guess my boxers would work. Sure."

   "Why run around in wet underwear. You ever go skinny dipping?"

   "Hmm. No, can't say as I have."

   "Me neither. Wanna be my first?"

   "Sure."

   We got undressed and went for a swim. I told him he didn't wave to watch out for towel snaps, until his boo boo butt was better. When we took a break on the big rocks, he thanked me for a couple minutes again, without me asking him for it. I love this.

   "So. Is having a… sexually dominant girlfriend, everything you ever hoped it would be? God, don't you hate the sound of that? I'm sexually dominant, ooh. Sounds so… creepy."

   "Anything else they call it?"

   "I don't know. Master or Mistress and slave, doesn't sound any less creepy. I guess the top and the bottom, are the cutest ones."

   "That works. I don't care what you call it, as long as you don't call me late for bedtime, really."

   "I know as a girl like this, it felt weird at first. It ever feel weird to you, that you realized you liked it, and you're a guy?"

   "Not really, I guess. I admit after the birthday taps, I wondered how in the hell I was ever gonna figure out how to… just ask for it."

   "I know the feeling. I'm over my embarrassment of it, but… the desire to not take out a public service announcement, I don't see that going away for me. If that counts as proof that I'm a little embarrassed? Then fine. You?"

   "Same. Maybe I'm a little more willing to admit to the embarrassed part. Somehow as a guy, don't I risk more?"

   "Oh. Yeah, I guess so. If you blabbed in front of my room mates? I'd get teased, then probably high fives. I know what you mean, for you. Just another reason for this to be our naughty little secret."

   "My lips are sealed."

   "I'll tell you when to open them. So. How we doing?"

   "Fine. Or, what do you mean."

   "I just want you happy. I don't have a parade lined up at my bedroom door like most girls do. Now serving 46, now serving 46… I want a real boyfriend, I always did. I never really wanted a conga line of…"

   "I don't either. Another reason, that I was concentrating on you sports girls. Not just because it always did turn me on, I wanted something different."

   "Hmm. Its why I made my moves on you. You were too good a thing to pass up. The other girls? Jesus. They think they're having fun now, but they pay later, big time."

   "How?"

   "When they finally decide to try to settle down, they're gonna want what we have. Its not going to be there. I don't know why men started settling for used up sluts, and marrying them late like goes on now. Why they don't mind licking a hole that's had every dick in the county in it, is beyond me. I'm not a virgin, but I'm not a ride at the playground, either."

   "Those other girls. They'll soon have three choices. Keep it up forever, and end up a washed out barfly. Marry a series of assholes, I mean bad boys. Or, eventually some idiot will take them in, and buy their sob story. They won't respect the guy. They'll use him, like you taught me those girls were using me. Its all bullshit."

   "See why I jumped on you? I don't want a different used dirt bike every year for the rest of my life. I wanted to buy one new or slightly used, and keep it for life. I like you. You seem mature."

   "I, am four years older than you. Service."

   "Most of the service guys aren't exactly mature. I was getting to think the service was a lot like being on the football team."

   "I know what you mean. We got a couple types. Lifers. Its their job and their life. We got college boys, like me. Then we got guys with no other options. Yeah, it can be like a big frat house, on the weekends."

   "Why are you different."

   "Thought I had bad luck, till you set me straight on that score. The bad luck followed me, and it didn't take me long to not give up, but, just drop the whole thing. My mentor? Suggested working on myself. Not to try to impress girls, just to try to impress myself. Take all that time and energy and put it to better use. When the right thing comes along, you'll just know it. Wish the guy lived long enough to see it. Looking like the right thing's you."

   "Thanks."

   "You're welcome."

   We were laying on the big rocks, taking a break out of the water. I asked him if he would oil me up, so I could lay out for an hour. I had a little bottle of baby oil in my small beach bag. After he oiled me up from head to toe, I enjoyed the warm sun. On a whim, I oiled up his sore bottom.

   "I hope that helps."

   "Thank you for oiling up my bottom."

   We laughed.

   "You know. Speaking of an oiled up bottom. When it gets dark? I'm gonna let you try mine out. If you promise to take your time. Go slow. Listen to any suggestions I give. We'll see if it can become any kind of a thing. I hear guys like it."

   "Do girls like it?"

   "Some do it, some don't. Of those that do? Some like it, some consider it a treat to give."

   "You don't have to."

   "No. I want to try it, at least once. Actually, I'm hoping it goes well, another reason to go slow and gentle and sweet about it, because… one girl told me, it was the perfect thing, for once a month. You know, when the main garage is closed for cleaning once a month. You would get to park in the rear for three days."

   "I'll try my best."

   "And remember. Baby oil will work on yours, too. So? You better be nice."

   "Polite suggestion?"

   "Take it how you want, dear. How many times will you be helpless and alone with me. When its your turn one day? I'll be using my first time as a guideline. Were you raised a Catholic when you were little, like I was?"

   "Yes."

   I smiled, before rolling over into the sun.

   "Well then. Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you. I don't think I could make it any clearer than that. Unless you really wanna go first, but I thought it would make a nice treat for you. See if you can make me like it."

   After a while in the sun, I took a dip to get the heavy oil off of me, so I could get dressed. When I was sitting with my knees drawn up, he was doing his thing, before dressing me. I noticed him looking, for the first time.

   "What, dear."

   "Nothing."

   "Hmm. I can read your mind, you know."

   "Really?"

   "Want me to prove it?"

   "Why not."

   "I saw it on your face. You just noticed, that mommy doesn't have tiny little feet, does she?"

   "Mommy, is not a little girl. Mommy has a big everything."

   "Everything?"

   "Well. Not that."

   "Really. Are you just telling me what I want to hear?"

   "No, I swear. I admit, I was curious about that, but… you're fine in that department."

   "Well, thanks. Is there a… rumor mill, with guys, about… us tall girls in that department? Curious."

   "Yes. I am pleased to report, that one was no doubt started by someone with no experience."

   "So. Do I have cute feet?"

   "You're feet, remind me of the rest of you. Very feminine. Just not small."

   "What size do you wear? Curious."

   "Usually a 12."

   "Really. Wanna see something?"

   "Sure."

   "Why don't you try on my jogging shoes, before we get dressed."

   I waited for his surprise that I knew was coming.

   "Holy shit."

   "Go on. Lace them up tight. Walk around a little. Tell me what you think."

   "Wow. Perfect fit."

   "Hmm. Dress me now?"

   "Sure."

   The walk back was as enjoyable as the walk out. Once we were back, I cooked for him on my little portable stove grill deal. When it finally got dark, we put a blanket on the ground in front of my car, and I spread another one on the hood. I leaned over my own hood, and waited while he licked and caressed his way up my legs slowly. He rubbed me all over. I handed him the little bottle of baby oil, so it was handy. Eventually though, it was time. I talked him through it. I admit, I begged a lot. To please go slow, to please not hurt me. To please wait. He was nice about it, and it took forever for him to get first his head in, and his first full stroke was a long ways off from that. I squirmed, made fists in the blanket, bit my lower lip and my thumb, and ended up eating the corner of the blanket, squealing.

   Eventually he was able to finally make his first complete stroke, all the way back out, then all the way in, then back out. He asked if I was all right, and I nodded. I kept my corner of the blanket as my pacifier, and gave him my hands. He never did go full throttle, and I had been worried about that. Eventually he finished, and I laid there breathing hard, while I recovered from my little ordeal. I was sure I looked a little like after he had given me my hard ride on the hood. Hair messed up, silly smile on my face, hugging and kissing him.

   "Well? How was it."

   "Not, as bad as I thought."

   "Would, you ever…"

   "Again? I could. Not every day, but, I could."

   "How bad did it…"

   "It… took some getting used to. I can't fight it. Eventually, I… just started letting it… happen. That? Was better. I admit though, once I get to a certain point, and I relax and just let it happen… its okay from there. And, once you got all the way in, I knew I could finish. When you were reaching around and touching me, I thought I was going to die when I came."

   "So it ended up, all things considered, going okay."

   "The girls that talked about it? Said the first time is the worst. Then you learn how to take it, before you're done. Honestly, at the end? Its not bad. Its getting there that was hard. I suppose you're wondering what the verdict is."

   "All ears."

   "If you're good, and you keep going gentle like you did? Yeah, you can park in the rear when I'm closed for monthly cleaning."

   "Wow. Thanks."

   "And I can't wait till its your turn. Which will happen eventually."

   "Which is fair."

   "Hmm. Remember. I'm in charge in bed. I'm not going to allow you to sleep any other way than naked. I want you right next to me under the covers. You're my property. If I wake up and decide I want something? You'll wake up with me starting to do what I feel like doing with you. One night? You'll wake up to me getting a hold of you from behind. Once you feel the baby oil, you'll know. I don't own a toy, but I guess that's gonna have to change. You better beg me to not get a big one, for your sake. Once you feel it start to go in, you'll know there's no stopping it, that its gonna happen. I'll try to tell you to relax, and take it, but when you finally do, and I see it on your face, mm. After I finally get all the way in, and it gets better? I'm gonna play with you. You'll see when you finally finish. I'll be as gentle as I can, but… I'm gonna say the dirtiest things in your ear while I work on you. I think after your first time, I'll start having you bend over, like I did. I don't know, we'll just have to see. But don't worry, you were nice, so I'll be nice when I do it too."

   "No helpless for it?"

   "Oh no. I'll want it like you got it. I had to agree to it, and let you. I'm gonna have you allow me."

   "What if I refuse?"

   "Oh. You must not remember me telling you all about the switch then. You know you're not allowed to refuse me sex. I'll tell you how you're gonna get the switch for that, to teach you a lesson you won't forget. It might take a while, because we have a house full of room mates, but… eventually, it'll be time. And the longer I have to wait? The worse it'll be when I finally give it to you. Just like, wait till I get you home. I'll remind you what its for, don't worry. You'll have been waiting on it, knowing its coming eventually. Lock all the doors, put some loud music on. It doesn't bother me, but we need to keep you quiet enough I can do it. You'll definitely be helpless for that, trust me. There will be crying, then screaming. Then? I'll really give it to you. What do you think of that?"

   "I think you're a very naughty girl."

   "I am. You just love these little stories, don't you?"

   He nodded, I smiled.

   "I guess it'll be like the old days, that way."

   "How's that."

   "Oh. The wife used to get the switch too back then. Misbehaving, refusing sex, whatever she was doing that needed corrected. It was normal for the neighbors to not only hear one of the kids down the barn, screaming their heads off for a long time. Sometimes the wife got it good too, to keep her in line. You? Are so lucky we don't live alone on a farm, and have that kind of privacy with a barn. I would so enjoy that."

   "Remind me to make sure we live somewhere with lots of neighbors and room mates, and paper thin walls."

   "Listen to you. You'll be the first one making sure we have privacy, you love it."

   "Okay, I do."

   We ate, we fooled around, we made more love, and we laid around on each other, talking. It was funny to me, that we had started out Friday night with his surprise at me calling myself his girlfriend out of nowhere. Here we were Saturday night, and we were getting drowsy talking, and he was already calling me his girlfriend without thinking about it. Gabbing about what things would be like. I already knew as we were falling asleep in the same position as the night prior, that I had hit this one out of the park. By Sunday, he was sitting, if not comfortably.

   I'd like to say I couldn't wait for him to meet my team mate room mates, but honestly I'm a little embarrassed. I mean seriously now, do you know how embarrassing it is to have to prepare someone to be ready, for the fact that there will be used condoms thrown around a room, you have to watch out for that? That's just not something any human being should have to be prepared for.

   The willow switches could live in my trunk temporarily, until I could get them in on the QT. I have a lock on my room, and a lock on my closet. Private things can live in there.