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The Mystery at The Poppyseed Inn (MF, oral)

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Offline Sweetums

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on: November 01, 2021, 09:13:53 PM


Chapter One: Mysterious Canoe Mishap

“We’re here!” Mary Jones’s best friend Imogene said. “Or we’re at least close to the Poppyseed Inn. I recognize the bend in Wacheekiewillawanny Creek here. We’re close! And, whew, not a moment too soon. It’s been three hours of hard paddling!”

Imogene was paddling the front of the canoe, Mary the back. Although Imogene was from a different school than Mary, they were close friends. Both girls had just graduated high school the previous year. Imogene was a succulent curvy natural blonde with breasts far larger than normal for girls her age.

“Immy, I do believe you’re right,” said Mary Jones. Looking at her friend’s breasts, Mary suddenly thought she’d rather be motor-boating than canoeing.

Mary was one of the prettiest girls in River Heights. It was a town abundant with strikingly beautiful girls. Many of these had settled there after she had freed them all from white slavery (see The Secret of the Old Cock).

Mary was a petite and striking young lady with an unrelentingly cheery disposition. Her titian blonde hair was cut short and fell straight in a practical bob. Her left eye was a solid blue. Her right eye was greener. She had the face of an angel: a bob of a nose, twinkling eyes, and a wide and easy smile.

She was petite at five feet two inches tall. Her body was one hundred and ten pounds of solid muscle from her constant martial arts training. Her breasts were lean and nicely shaped, as were her hips. But others rarely noticed her figure. When she was dressed at all, she was almost always modestly attired. Her clothes tended to be baggier and less revealing than the norm. Her athletic form was not obvious or attention-grabbing to others. Her future career plans were to be the world's first G-Woman. Even now, she preferred to be able to walk around as unnoticed as possible.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, Mary,” said Imogene. “Why three hours exhausting work paddling this canoe rather than just driving here in your roadster?”

“You heard about the governor’s daughter on the radio, haven’t you?”

“Gosh sakes, hasn’t everybody?”

“Immy, there are roadblocks everywhere around River Heights because of that. They’re searching everywhere for the missing girl.”

“Yes, so what?”

“It's hard work for us to get through those roadblocks. They aren't always just routine searches, you know.”

“How could that be? Open the trunk, close the trunk, done.”

“You’d think, but no. The police who man these roadblocks are drawn from all over. They will more often than not take liberties with two young women like ourselves who are traveling alone.”

“Liberties?” Imogene shuddered.

“Yes, Immy,” Mary assured her. “It would all start with a perfectly innocent and routine strip search and cavity search. Such things happen all the time to young women around River Heights, as you know.”

“It does? Where does this happen?” asked Imogene. “I’ll rather stay away.”

“But soon enough, appendages other than fingers would become involved in the search.”

“But surely you would stop them and show them a thing or two besides, Mary!”

“Immy, any resistance would only antagonize them. And I promised both Sheriff Barton and Special Agent Dorff not to beat up any more law enforcement officers. Now I don’t mind a rough and tumble strip search or two... or ten. But you might be psychologically scarred for life. And your fiancee, whatsisname, in the oil business in the Middle East, he would never understand.”

“Oh, him. I haven’t heard from him in a year.”

“But then there’s your other fiancee Petey, serving two to five years in the state pen for kidnapping and extortion. He wouldn’t understand either.”

“Oh Petey,” Imogene sighed. “What a dreamboat. Our time together was so short. I can’t hardly wait until he gets out and makes me an honest woman again and again and again...”

“I envy you, Immy,” said Mary. “Any boyfriend who made me yell like a thousand parakeets being crushed under a board is a keeper.”

There was a huge crash. Mary and Imogene flew over the bow of the toppling canoe and into the cold water. They’d hit an obstruction. What Mary could make of it, it was some huge green animal. Could it be a crocodile? Not in Wisconsin. A bull shark? Conceivable but highly unlikely in a tributary like this.

“Immy, throw off your clothes immediately!”

“I think I can make it to shore, Mary.”

“No, we must throw this suspected animal off the scent. Cast off all your clothes despite the embarrassment this might later cause.”

“All righty, Mary, if you say so. Panties too?”

“Of course panties.”

“Shucks! Now I’m naked as a newborn.”

“Grab my arm and swim, Immy, swim!”

Despite Mary’s concern, the pair of freezing shivering girls easily made it to shore. Mary pushed the canoe to shore. Immy hung onto it. Mary pulled the canoe far enough onshore to examine it. Thankfully, it was undamaged.

Imogene exclaimed, “Did you see that man downstream in the rowboat?” A slight man with a blond crew cut tied his rowboat to a dock just barely visible downstream. Then he ran away.

“I saw him. I’m a detective,” Mary reminded her.

Imogene was indignant. “He didn’t even try to help us!”

A boy slightly older than the girls and well built stood up from the bushes. “You girls look like you might need some help. The name’s Kevin Nesmith, at your service. And you must be… naked.” The tall muscular boy with a blond crew cut clapped his hands over his eyes. “Excuse me! Excuse me!”

“How far are we from the Poppyseed Inn?” asked Mary.

“You’re on the property," the abashed young man whimpered. "Don’t you see all the poppies?”

Sure enough, they were all standing in a field covered in poppies of all shapes and colors. “Beautiful!” Mary exclaimed.

Hands still firmly clasped over his eyes, the young man stammered, “Not as beautiful as… well… hrm...”

“Kevin!” said Mary in mock indignation, hands on hips, feet shoulder length apart to afford a good view. “Were you peeking at us? What are your intentions?”

“I-I’m the groom’s best man! I'm here for the wedding! I was just taking a walk, honest!”

“Now Kevin, I can see your stiffy… mmm… your sizable stiffy in your pants. Now come clean!”

One hand left the young man’s eyes to cover his groin. “Miss, yes, I did accidentally catch a glimpse. Accidentally! I’m on leave from the Army. For gosh sakes, I’ve hardly seen a woman in over a year! A man has instinctive reactions! Here, take this picnic blanket. Cover yourselves.”

Mary wrapped the blanket around the shivering Imogene. “Go get help from Francine at the Inn. Don’t rush back. Everything here is GREEN. I’ll see you soon enough.”

“If you say so, Mary,” said Imogene dutifully. She scampered off, still shivering.

“Now, as for you, Kevin,” Mary said. She approached the young man. “I’m Mary Jones.”

“The famous girl detective?” the Army man stammered. “I’d heard you were a natural redhead. Ohmygosh! Sorry I said that!”

“You have to stop apologizing,” said Mary. She grabbed his hand covering his crotch and moved it gently back up to his eyes. “It’s we who should apologize for interrupting what I’m now convinced was an innocent stroll. And by way of apology...” She got on her knees in front of the well built young man and unzipped his pants.

The young man startled and stammered, “Uh… uh...”

“Haven’t you ever had a woman take you into her mouth?”

“I can’t lie to you, Mary. I haven’t. Don’t bite me!”

“Relax! I’m not going to bite you, silly. You’re not a virgin, are you?” She pulled his slacks and undershorts down to his knees.

Kevin groaned as Mary took his stiff, straining member in hand.

“Well. Kevin?” she prompted as she stroked ample spit onto his tool and pumped it lasciviously in both hands.

“Mary… I can’t… uh… I can’t lie...”

“You are a virgin! Never fear. You want to make love with me, don’t you?”

“UHH! UHH!” Kevin cried, and shot a powerful squirt of semen onto Mary’s face, then another onto  her naked breasts. Mary held his cock, directing the shower. Eyes still covered, he kept shooting until Mary was coated, then groaned and was silent. Mary let go.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. And look at the mess you’ve made,” said Mary. “Go ahead. Look at me.”

Kevin took his hands from his eyes and looked down at Mary. There was a pool of his semen atop her stylish bob, dribbling down. Drooling streaks of his semen dripped down both Mary’s cheeks and off her forehead and nose. She licked some of it into her mouth with a smile, looking up at him gaily. Each of her lean, petite breasts had a generous shot. A couple of shots on her tummy had dribbled into the downy titian blonde fur between her legs. Seeing all this, Kevin’s penis went from exhaustedly half erect to straining hard again.

“Good,” said Mary with a smile. “Are you ready to lose your virginity? You don’t have to, you know. I would never force you.”

“Didn’t I just lose it?” stammered Kevin.

“No, you silly young man. That was a handjob. I didn’t even get to the blowjob part.”

“I’m really, really sorry I got my stuff all over you,” said Kevin.

“That’s polite of you to say, but I don’t mind it,” Mary replied. She scooped a big wad of it off her right breast, shoveled it into her mouth, and swallowed. “It felt pretty good, didn’t it?”

“Oh Mary! I mean Miss Jones! It was the best thing ever!” Kevin gushed.

“Would you enjoy giving such pleasure to me while having more yourself?”

“Yes, more than anything!” said Kevin, entranced.

“I return to my question. Do you want to lose your virginity?”

“If that means… I guess I do,” said Kevin sternly. “I guess I should be a man and take charge, eh?”

“If you want to. I can get into that,” said Mary.

“Okay, then. I think I understand this,” said Kevin. “Okay, lie down on the grass, Mary. Good. Now spread your legs wide. Good. Ohhhh…. you’re so pretty down there. And everywhere, really.”

“My Kevin, you are a charmer,” said Mary. “You’ll have me blushing.”

“Okay, now, since it’s daytime, you’ll need to close your eyes,” said Kevin. “It’s not delicate for a woman to see this.”

“All right, if you insist,” said Mary. She closed her eyes to slits so they looked closed. This way, she remained prepared to guide him if he got lost.

Kevin removed his slacks, boxers, shoes, and socks. Ramrod erect, he got on his knees and then lay all his weight down on her. Mary let out a grunt. He poked his stiff rod excitedly and fairly randomly on her slit. Finally, she said, “Lower, Kev. No, that’s too low. That’s my asshole.”

“Oh I’m terribly sorry, Mary,” Kevin fretted. He was getting frustrated. Mary reached down and gently guided him into her wet slot. It was easy work. She so badly wanted this virgin hunk she was all but gushing wet.

Through the slits of her lashes, she saw a look of surprise cross Kevin’s face as his body’s instincts took over. His hips reflexively pumped hard and fast into her. She saw his face suffuse into an expression of ultimate bliss. Before he had barely begun, Kevin went rigid, and she felt his hot floods sluice forcefully into her. He didn’t even have enough time to gasp or groan. He just said “Ugh!” and shook all over and collapsed on her like a sack of potatoes.

Mary wasn't concerned about pregnancy. When she was held captive by the white slave ring, they put some German device in her uterus to prevent pregnancy. Nobody knew how to get it back out, which meant Mary was sterile. This suited Mary fine, since she didn't want to raise a family. Instead, she wanted to be America's first G-woman.

“Kevin?” Mary ventured. “Kevin? Did you have fun?” It appeared that the poor boy experienced so much pleasure he passed out. Gently, she patted the darling and highly excitable young man’s cheek. “Kevin?”

“What… ugh… oh Mary! I must have passed out. Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all. Don’t worry, my sweet. But I do need some help. I’d like an orgasm, too, please.”

“What’s that?”

“Remember when your stuff came out when I stroked you with my hands?”

“Do I ever! Second best feeling ever! Next to… what we just did.”

“That was an orgasm.”

“Golly! Then I must have had another when I passed out.”

“You did! You’re a quick learner. Now, I’d like an orgasm, too, please.”

After a little more explanation and negotiation, Kevin had his face between Mary’s legs. “It smells a little down here, Mary,” he said fearfully. “Not that unpleasantly, I suppose.”

“The musky scent you smell is a woman’s excitement,” Mary explained. “You’ll learn to love that smell, because it means a woman is excited for you, and will likely allow you to feel the pleasure you just felt. As for the smell like a swimming pool? That’s your semen, the stuff that shoots out of you when you have your orgasms.”

“The pool smell is the bad part. I like your smell, Mary.”

“You absolute charmer!” Mary smiled, grabbed onto Kevin’s crew cut firmly with both hands, and steered his mouth to her sex. “You can start by French kissing my lips down there just as you would normally kiss me. Oh, good! A little deeper. Wonderful! Keep going. Ahh! Just a little bit up...” Mary continued to gently guide Kevin in his first cunnilingus lesson. Pleasure suffused her body. His body might be eager to let go, but he was equally eager to please. What a wonderful lad.

Soon, Mary’s body was tense. She rocked her ass off the ground, humping Kevin’s slurping mouth. “You’re doing great! Okay, I’m just going to let loose now and make some unladylike remarks. I will be feeling so good, I won't be able to help it.”

Kevin took his mouth off her. “That’s okay by me, Mary- MFFF!”

Mary slammed Kevin’s face back into action. “Get back to work eating my nasty cunt, you fucking bastard! Ram that tongue deep, deep, DEEP and taste my ovaries, motherfucker! Oh fuck! Oh Fuck! Oh FUCK! FUUUUCK!!” she shrieked.

Kevin came up for air. “That sounded like fun.”

“It certainly was. Now get back down there!”

“But I thought...”

“I did! But I want another!”

“You can do that?”

“Oh yes, and they come faster and faster as you do it to me. Now get to work!”

“When do I get to stop?”

“Well, as soon as you can put it in again.”

Kevin grinned and pushed up onto his knees. His penis stuck out ramrod straight.

As the sun was setting, Mary cuddled up to Kevin for warmth. Their latest bout had been a glorious mutual spend where Mary had almost passed out herself. “You’re becoming such an excellent lover, Kev.”

“I have an excellent teacher,” Kevin replied. He had that relaxed-in-every-aspect cast to him. It was the demeanor of a man who has thoroughly experienced making love to a good woman.

“I have a problem that’s troubling me, Mary, though not as much as it had.”

“What’s that, Kevin?”

“You know the groom, my friend Edgar?”

“Yes?”

“He’s asked me, begged me actually, to catch his bride, your friend Francine, at a private moment and have my way with her. Carnally, that is.”

(To be continued)
« Last Edit: November 04, 2021, 02:03:29 AM by Sweetums »



Offline SoftGameHunter

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Reply #1 on: November 02, 2021, 10:11:04 PM
And here I thought I would face no other entries. Now I have real competition. Well done.



Offline Sweetums

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Reply #2 on: November 03, 2021, 03:17:45 AM
Thank you, gracious sir! May the words flow from your fingers like diamonds.

Don't forget to announce your novel in Ao1's thread.
« Last Edit: November 03, 2021, 03:37:22 AM by Sweetums »



Offline Sweetums

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Reply #3 on: November 03, 2021, 03:34:22 AM
Chapter Two: Strange Happenings

It was getting late. Despite Mary’s signal of “GREEN” that she had the situation under control, she hadn’t arrived at the Inn. Imogene retraced her steps back to the creek carrying clothes for Mary.

As Imogene approached the landing point of their canoe, she heard sounds of distress from her friend. “Ugh! Ugh! Yes! Keep going! You can do it! Almost! Almost! AAAAUGH!” She feared the terrible green monster had returned to consume Mary and Kevin. Not being armed, she crawled through the bushes to covertly view her friend’s predicament.

Mary was on the grass, legs up and spread, head thrown back. Her face was a grimace of pleasure. Atop her, naked and sweating, was Kevin, his muscular ass rising and falling hypnotically. “C’mon Kev baby! Keep hitting those home runs! Oh I’m getting close again, sweetheart! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! AAAAUGH!”

Imogene couldn’t help herself. The fingers of one hand were already up her dress, down her panties, and stroking her love button. She added her other hand, thrusting three slender fingers into her tight slippery love hole.

“Mary, I’m feeling like I want to finish. Would that be okay? Have you had enough?”

“Kevvy, you’re being so considerate. Yes, my man meat, you can finish. Fuck my hole, Kevin! Release your offering deep in my womb! Harder! Ohyes!” Mary panted several times as her legs squeezed him tight to catch every drop. “OH!”

“MY!” Kevin cried. His hips, legs, back, everything, shuddered and strained.

“GAWD!” Imogene screeched from the bushes. She could almost feel Kevin’s hot spray of sperm arrow into her friend.

“Is that you, Immy?” asked Mary.

Imogene stood up. “Guilty as charged.”

“Lucky this isn’t a court of law,” Mary snickered.

Kevin snored. It was a big, restful snore. Mary gently rolled the young man off her. He kept snoring.

Mary got her luggage out of the canoe and put on her own frock. She didn’t bother with underwear. Her tits were too small to need a bra, and perhaps would always be. As for panties, Kevin would be around. It was best for her to stay ready for him.

Leaving Kevin peacefully snoring on the creek bank, the two friends carried their luggage up to the Inn. There they met Mary’s friend, the bride-to-be, Francine Xavier. “Hi Francine!” said Mary brightly.

Francine was a dainty young woman with chestnut-colored hair. She had an easy smile. Despite her thin physique, she was shapely and elegant. “Welcome! Imogene tells me you already met Kevin down by the creek.”

“Did I ever!” exclaimed Mary.

“Isn’t he the sweetest?” Francine observed.

“You don’t know the half of it!” Mary exclaimed.

“Well, sounds like he’s found another admirer,” said Francine. “Mary, you haven’t arrived a moment too soon. There have been strange happenings all around the premises. A person could almost think the place is haunted!”

“Oh, ghosts again!” scoffed Mary. “This is the year 1930, Francine. Modern times! Science has proven ghosts don’t exist. Much more likely, it is an army of horny, hypnotized men hidden down a secret stairway.” (See The Forbidden Staircase.)

“What an oddly specific remark,” mused Francine. “But first, I have another extremely private matter to discuss with you, Mary. No offense, Imogene, but I’m going to take Mary into the other room to discuss it.”

“No need,” said Imogene brightly. “I’ll just take a look at the rest of the Inn.” She left the room, shut the door behind her, and then pressed her ear against it to listen in.

“Mary, Edgar has put stringent last-minute conditions on the marriage that I’m not sure I can accommodate.”

“What sort of conditions?”

“How do I put this delicately? As you know, he specified twelve groomsmen. I had no trouble inviting twelve bridesmaids to match them. But he wants me to take each of the twelve groomsman and… how do I put this?” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Accept them between my knees.”

“He wants you to fuck all twelve of his friends before he’ll marry you?” fumed Mary. “What an asshole!”

“Please, not so loud. My aunt Irene might hear you, or that creepy social director she had us hire,” cautioned Francine. “It’s not like that, Mary. You misunderstand. Over the several months I’ve known him, Edgar has been honest and forthcoming about his… interests. He can perform in the normal way if I ever want him to. But what he really wants is to hide and secretly watch other men take me. He wants to watch them make love to me, that is, have their way, however you want to put it.

“The idea intrigues me. As you know, Edgar is quite wealthy and has many powerful friends. He assures me I am beautiful enough to have any man I desire to be my bull. In this area of interest, that’s what the man who performs in place of the husband is called.”

“I did not know that,” said Mary, fascinated.

Francine continued, “So, if I like a particular movie star, next week he’s between my knees. Famed sportsmen. World leaders. Heads of state. Captains of industry. He can even pay for men having special endowments, like renowned lovers, or men with peculiar attributes. In short, whatever lurid sexual fantasy I can conceive, he can make it a reality. What woman, being perfectly honest with herself, wouldn’t at least be intrigued?”

“I’m starting to get the picture,” said Mary.

“I have two difficult problems, though,” said Francine. “One is his test that I can handle our future sexual plans. To prove this to him, I have to allow his twelve groomsmen as I’ve described.”

“If you’re truly intrigued by this lifestyle, why is that a problem?” Mary asked.

“I’m a… a virgin,” she whimpered.

“I get it,” said Mary. “So you’re intrigued, but never having entertained a man, you’re uncertain of your reaction to the reality.”

“Exactly,” said Francine, breathing a sigh of relief. “At least I’ve never entertained a man in the normal way a man is accustomed.”

“Well, you’ve come to the correct friend!” said Mary confidently.

“I knew you would be.”

“First things first. What have you done with men? Or women?”

“Why Mary, you are scandalous! Nothing with women, silly,” said Francine. “Edgar and I have done everything, I think, but cross the Rubicon. We’ve kissed. I’ve had his thing in my hand until it squirted. Also in my mouth until it squirted. I’ve made it squirt a lot. Just never between my legs.”

“Have you ever touched yourself, had a crisis?” asked Mary.

“What do you mean?” asked Francine.

“Like Edgar has when he squirts,” said Mary. “Believe me, you’d know if you had.”

“I don’t think so,” said Francine. “Am I supposed to?”

“Not with what you’ve done so far, but usually, yes,” said Mary. “If your lover knows what he’s doing.”

“Kissing feels good. And I get a thrill when he gets all excited and shoots,” said Francine. “It makes me quite moist downstairs,” she confided. “I thought, therefore, I would get the same thrill from entertaining these men.”

“Oh Francine,” said Mary. “You’re in for a treat! There’s so much more to lovemaking than just getting excited witnessing the man’s pleasure! I agree, it is thrilling to watch a man strain with excitement, for his cream to shoot out. But that’s just the beginning of your pleasure, you’ll see.”

“I’m afraid I’m growing quite faint hearing this,” said Francine. “It would seem I’m luckier than I ever imagined.”

“Next on the agenda, we need to make sure everything is working correctly “downstairs,” as you put it. Also you must practice. As you practice orgasming, you’ll find it easier and more gratifying to do so. It’s important for the man’s pleasure that you orgasm easily and often.”

“Why hasn’t this come up with Edgar?”

“Chalk it up to both your inexperience. It’s not like they teach this stuff in school. I wish they did.”

“So what do we do?”

“Just hold still,” said Mary. She held her friend close to her with one arm. With the other, she reached gently under the girl’s dress and into her panties. As she’d expected, Francine was drenched, having become quite excited discussing these sexual matters. Mary dipped a finger in Francine’s ample juices and stroked Francine’s erect love button. “How does that feel?”

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Francine said. “It’s a feeling like horseback riding or riding in a motorcar over a bumpy road, but much more intense. I feel like pushing against you, and that something’s about to happen.”

“That’s good, Francine, just let it happen,” Mary coached.

Francine was getting carried away with the feelings she was feeling. “Oh no, oh good, oh… uhh… Mary I… oh! Oh! AAAAH!!” She fell against Mary, legs shaking uncontrollably.

“Did you feel it?” asked Mary.

“Uh! Huh! Mnah!” Francine grunted, still in the throes of her powerful climax. Finally, she sighed. “Whew! I’ve never felt like that before. But Mary,” Francine fretted. “Now that you’ve, uh, done this thing to me, am I a lesbian pervert?”

“Nonsense!” said Mary. “This was just a basic physiological test, like taking a rubber mallet to your knee. If a person’s knee is tapped with a hammer, she’ll kick. If a woman’s clitoris is stimulated effectively, she will orgasm.”

“Well, that’s a relief to hear! Not that I don’t like you Mary, but, whew, it would be awfully inconvenient to be a lesbian, what with the wedding plans and all.”

“Lesbianism isn’t about convenience or inconvenience, Francine. I myself am attracted to both men and women, an orientation known as bisexuality. You love who you love. It’s that simple. It seems to me that if you wanted to be with women exclusively like a lesbian does, you would have figured that out by now. But then again, there’s such a social stigma, possibly not. Just love who you love, Francine, and be honest with yourself, and it will all sort itself out.

“Now, everything seems to be in working order. In fact, I expect you’ll have more fun than the average girl.”

“It’s so good, all I can think about is having that feeling again! Even though you are a girl...”

“Well, I suppose I can give you a few more,” said Mary, reaching under Francine’s dress again.

Francine stopped her. “Thank you, but I think I want to wait until the men can try it. You’re the best of friends, Mary, but it just feels wrong for a girl to do it.”

“Understandable, and not a problem,” said Mary. She fished into her suitcase and brought out a portable massager. Luckily, she’d brought two, so she could give one to Francine. “There are ways you can do it to yourself, and you should, often, to prepare. Here, let me show you how to use this.” She plugged the massager into a handy wall socket and it came buzzing to life. She waved Francine towards her and applied the device to her overall genital area through her dress and panties.

“Oohhhhh… ahh… AHH!!” Francine’s legs started shaking again. Mary held her tight to keep her from falling over. “AAH!” shouted Francine again.

“You see?” Mary unplugged it and handed it to Francine. “It may be too powerful to put directly onto your naked skin. You can use a towel or other kind of barrier to mute it somewhat. Since you’re so sensitive, I think that would be best. I want you to use the device on yourself. Give yourself three orgasms after you wake up, before you get out of bed. After breakfast, go up to your room and give yourself three more orgasms. It helps the digestion. Three more after lunch, and three more after dinner. Then three in bed before you go to sleep at night. If you follow this regimen, within a few days, you’ll be ready for your first man.”

“That’s supposed to be Kevin,” said Francine with a grimace. “I thought we were getting to be good friends, and now this. I’m concerned.”

“Don’t be worried about Kevin. He’s a great fellow,” said Mary. “I spent some time with him down by the creek.”

“Mary!” exclaimed Francine. “You’re scandalous!”

“It would only be scandalous if I was caught,” said Mary.

At that, a lady burst into the room. She was silver-haired and over fifty, with a height and figure like Francine’s except bigger breasts and hips. “Francine, Francine! The wedding preparations are all in an uproar!”

“Mary, allow me to introduce my Aunt, Irene Xavier. Aunt Irene, this is the famous Mary Jones.”

Without acknowledging Mary’s presence, Aunt Irene complained, “These workmen are too slow! The cottages are not finished yet, nor have the rooms been refurbished. We simply don’t have enough rooms for the members of the wedding party. Groomsmen and bridesmaids will be forced to sleep two to a room!”

“Is that a problem?” asked Mary. “Immy and I can bunk together. It’s no trouble.”

“These young people are the cream of the social elite! The governor’s daughter would be among them if she hadn’t been kidnapped,” Aunt Irene fretted. “Now Miss Jones’s little friend is filling in. These youngsters aren’t accustomed to substandard accommodations. They’re sure to be offended. Then we’ll have more more gaps in the wedding party we’ll have to fill in with mongrels!”

Mary gritted her teeth at Imogene being described as a mongrel. “Well, at least Immy is kidnap-proof.”

“Let’s do this,” soothed Francine. “Let’s make it a game. Everyone has to double up so that we all get to know each other better. Then, it’s not that there are not enough rooms, it’s about togetherness.”

“Great idea, Francine!” seconded Mary.

“Well… okay…” said Aunt Irene dubiously, and rushed out of the room.

“There you are, Francine.” An woman in her forties with black hair and a full figure strolled into the room. She appeared to be drunk.

“Nancy Quigley, our social director,” Francine introduced.

“Now, why can’t you tell those hunky workmen to pay more attention to me rather than slinging around all that lumber? Unless they’re slinging it in my direction. And by ‘lumber’ I mean-”

“We know, Nancy,” said Francine. “Would you please stop bothering the workmen so they can get their  jobs done?”

“Well I never!” fumed the woman. “Here I am trying to start a little fun, which is my JOB, and you shut me down. I have a mind to quit!”

“Why don’t you do that, Nancy?”

“Well I never!” the woman huffed, turned on her heel and left the room.

The telephone rang. Francine answered it. “Yes, yes Mary Jones is indeed here. Certainly you may speak with her.”

Mary took the phone. “Mary!” said Margaret, the Jones’s beautiful ebony housekeeper and her father’s lover. “The house has been burglarized!”

(To be continued)
« Last Edit: November 07, 2021, 09:02:15 PM by Sweetums »



Offline SoftGameHunter

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Reply #4 on: November 05, 2021, 01:12:01 AM
Thank you, gracious sir! May the words flow from your fingers like diamonds.

Don't forget to announce your novel in Ao1's thread.

Mine's on RU, so I entered it on their thread. So now it's not just between two writers (so far), it's a Battle of the Boards!



Offline Sweetums

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Reply #5 on: November 06, 2021, 09:30:30 PM
I suppose then, we must throw down the condom! Doff the dildo! Spank it and crank it in the name of our respective boards! May the vilest purveyor of smut cum on top!


Offline Sweetums

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Reply #6 on: November 06, 2021, 09:31:05 PM
Chapter Three: A Stolen Charge Plate

“What? When was the house burglarized?” Mary asked.

“It must have been last night,” Margaret replied.

 “Have you called the police about the matter?”

“No, I wanted to speak to you first,” said Margaret. “I didn’t even know it had happened until I went to your room to return a book I’d borrowed. Your room had been ransacked. Your father is away on business. I’m so scared, Mary!”

“Don’t worry,” said Mary. “I’ll be back there right away! In the meantime, call Sheriff Barton. He’ll keep you safe.”

Margaret sighed fretfully. “Miss Mary, your father’s been away for two whole days. I’m so worked up with the burglary and your father not around. I know I won’t be able to stop myself from opening my legs for that hunky sheriff. And then where will we be?” If the Jones’s black housekeeper gave birth to a light skinned child, suspicion would naturally fall on Mr. Jones. It would be a major scandal in River Heights. He could be disbarred or worse. It wasn’t common knowledge that Mr. Jones had a vasectomy that prevented his own seed doing this. But Margaret had to be careful not to allow fertile white men access to her womb.

Mary had to be cryptic. The whole dining table was listening in. “Lucky for you, he has the procedure, too.”

“You mean one of those V surgeries?”

“The very same.”

“Thank you, Lord God! I’ll call right away!”

Mary hung up the phone. She turned to address Kevin, who was finishing his meal. “I assume that’s your jeep out front.”

“You don’t even need to ask, Mary. I’d be happy to drive you.”

“May I tag along?” asked Aunt Irene. “I must meet Julie Penrose, one of Francine’s bridesmaids, at the train station. Then the two of us will need a ride back here, if it’s not too much trouble, Kevin.”

“Don’t worry about driving me back,” said Mary. “I can drive back here in my roadster.”

The roadblocks waved Kevin through without even stopping him. They knew an Army license plate when they saw one. Within minutes, they were at Mary’s doorstep. “Are you sure you don’t want us to come back and pick you up? How are you going to get through all those roadblocks?”

“Thank you for asking, but I have my ways.” They waved goodbye to Mary and set off for the train station.

Mary entered the house. From downstairs, in the servants quarters, Mary heard an “UNH! UNH! UNH!” that sounded like Margaret getting railed nice and hard by somebody.

Mary went downstairs quietly and looked through the keyhole. Sure enough, it was Sheriff Barton. His pale, lean, muscular body contrasted with Margaret’s inky ebony. Her big full dark melons with darker nipples gyrated with the force of his thrusts. He slapped one for emphasis as he choked her.

He had her tied into a stress position with a motley assortment of things. There was his belt and necktie, but also her panties and stockings. He was ramming his penis hard into her vagina. With one hand, he choked her. With the other, he spanked her and slapped her face and titties. He was huffing with the effort of it. As Mary watched, he spat in the black girl’s face.

Margaret was begging, and between her entreaties, orgasming hard. “Oh please, Sheriff, don’t get me with child, I beg you! OHHHH!”

Because of Margaret’s formative sexual experiences, she liked being raped, not actually, but playacting as close as possible. Either Mary’s father had told Barton of her kink, or being somewhat of a dom, he'd guessed it.

Margaret bawled, “No, don’t give me the crisis again! UUUHNNNNH!! Huh! Please sir, I don’t want to be fertile when you release!”

“You’ll take my baby up in your womb and be grateful I’d rather breed than beat you! Here it cums!”

“NO! AAAAUGH!” cried Margaret in the height of orgasmic delight.

“RAAAAH!!” yelled Barton, and locked into Margaret’s vagina hard. Mary could see the shaft of Barton’s penis throb as he deposited a huge load into Margaret’s womb. “Mmmm, your little twat’s an awfully good cum bucket.” He spanked her once, hard, on the ass. She writhed and moaned in her bonds.

He pulled out, and his semen spilled out of her onto her bed. He dressed. “If you tell anyone about this, you’ll get worse. Open your mouth.” He spat into her open mouth and then left the room.

“Oh, hello, Mary,” said the Sheriff. “I thought I heard you arrive. We should go have a look at your room together and see if you can spot anything that’s missing.”

As they walked up the stairs, Mary asked, “Isn’t there anything you can do about those dratted roadblocks?”

“Nothing, Mary,” said Barton. “The governor sent his own troopers down here to man them. They call themselves River Heights Area Prevention and Enforcement, or RHAPE, for short. I talked to Special Agent Dorff about them traumatizing the local unaccompanied women. It’s so bad now that women won’t even go out-of-doors anymore without a man. He’s up in Madison as we speak trying to put an end to it. The Governor, in the meantime, is justifying his overreach with the disappearance of his daughter. He’s saying, big deal if a few eggs get broken if it gets my daughter back. The jerk.”

They looked through Mary’s room for missing items. Her bedroom had been ransacked. All her drawers were spilled out on the floor. Clothes hung in her closet had also been thrown onto the floor as well.

At  a covert glance lest Sheriff Barton notice, she was relieved to see that her secret safe was intact. This was the hiding place of her private journals recounting her exploits precisely in terms of various attributes. These included but were not limited to the subject's willingness to perform cunnilingus, staying power, and orgasms received. There were photos of her in naked congress with various men around town. They included Barton, Dorff, Margaret, and the local Catholic priest. They included her own father, with her wearing a mask to protect her identity from him. It also contained reels of 8 mm movie film. She had shot these with a movie camera her doting father had bought her. These were films of her having sex with various hunky area men. Being a young woman of many talents, she’d developed all these photos and movies in her own private darkroom.

Margaret was already out of her bonds, dressed, and answering the phone downstairs. “Miss Mary, it’s Crick’s Department Store.”

Mary picked up the extension in her bedroom. The saleswoman on the line said, “Miss Jones, this is Mrs. Stephens of the lingerie department. I’m very sorry. I made a terrible mistake when I told you that latex outfit we ordered for you this morning would cost sixty dollars. It will cost one hundred and twenty-five dollars. Do you still want to order it?”

“Mrs. Stephens, I didn’t order a latex outfit this morning. I was out of town.”

“Isn’t your charge account number 60-60842?”

“Wait, I’ll check.” She opened her desk drawer. The leather case for her Crick’s charge plate was there, but the plate wasn’t inside. She returned to the phone. “I’ll drive down and speak with the manager. My charge plate has been stolen, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that’s one thing that’s missing,” said Barton.

“Will you drive me through the roadblocks into town and vouch for me?” asked Mary.

“I suppose so. It’s near the station. But how will you get back here?”

“Will you please drive me back here when we’re done there?”

“Now Mary,” said Barton. “You know I’d like nothing better than to spend the entire day with you. But I’m a busy man! I’ve got this kidnapping case and all the problems from these roadblocks!”

Mary fell to her knees in front of him and implored him. “Is there anything I can do to make it worth your while? It would save me so much time. Anything!” She stroked the front of his trousers and felt his penis stir.

“I’m sorry Mary,” said Barton. “That feisty little darky you have as a housekeeper took every drop.”

“Don’t call them darkies, Sheriff. It’s considered derogatory. Call them ‘negros’ or ‘colored people’.”

“As you say, Mary. I didn’t mean it as derogatory, quite the opposite. She’s one of the tightest, wettest little bitches of any shade I’ve ever had the pleasure of thrusting my cock into. Mmm. Come to think of it, okay. The two of you visit my place next time James is out of town. I’ll introduce her to those old police interrogation tables I have in my garage. And reintroduce you! Heh-heh.”

“You’re a horrible man,” said Mary, “and I like how you think. Yes, I can make that happen, as long as you provide us plenty of brandy afterwards.”

“It’s a deal,” said Barton. They each gave Margaret a deep tongue kiss in the front hall, then left for the department store.

Mr. Morton, the department store manager, pounded his desk. “And that’s not all you bought. All that camera equipment and film from the camera department. All those leather harnesses, bridles, rope, and other goods from the farm goods department. Are you planning on shooting your own western movie, Miss Jones? Oh, and the latex outfit. Don’t answer that question. All together, those items cost over two thousand dollars!”

“But sir, I’m telling you, I wasn’t here earlier today,” said Mary.

“I’ll confirm that Miss Jones’s house was just burglarized,” Barton added.

“But I saw you, Miss Jones! I met with you!” insisted Morton. “Unless you have a twin sister. Do you think I’d let you leave the store with that much merchandise without confirming your identity personally? And I even...” at this point the manager blushed. He turned to address Barton, “I even watched her try on some of the clothing. I saw everything. Her beautiful pink-nippled breasts. Her bare pubic area. Her meaty snatch.” He turned to Mary. “You told me you thought shaving down there was neater.”

“I have a surprise for you, Mr. Morton,” said Mary. She reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees. Then she held up her skirt to show him her nicely trimmed titian blonde bush. “Come on. Don’t be shy. Touch it and see that it’s not a merkin.”

Morton stepped around his desk for a closer inspection. “And you can vouch for the fact this is the real Mary Jones.”

“I’m certain of it,” said Barton. “Just look at this ass,” he said, lifting the back of Mary’s skirt and spanking it. “It’s soft, but full of muscle. Mary’s athleticism is peerless.”

Morton stroked his fingers through Mary’s nether fur, eliciting a moan of pleasure from her. “Well, this is real. And I can see the muscle tone. Yes, this young lady is a real athlete as you say, and the impostor was not.”

“So you admit the earlier young woman was an impostor,” said Barton.

“Just one more check,” said the manager, leering. “Have a seat, Miss Jones. That’s right. Oh no, don’t pull up your panties. Instead, pull them down to your ankles and spread your knees. Good, good. Now spread yourself, yes, down there, with your fingers. That’s right. Well, I can see your lips are much daintier than the other woman’s, Miss Jones. And you’re much wetter. Does exposing yourself excite you?”

“It does."

“The other one was dry as a bone. Why, I had to use some mineral oil... but that’s beside the point. Yes, I  can see. I'll check it to make sure.”

Mary groaned in pleasure as the store manager’s fingers lightly stroked her vulva and then penetrated her. Two of his fingers fished around for a moment, doing a bit of a cavity search. Then they stroked in and out, in and out.

“Yes, much wetter,” Morton moaned, licking his lips and continuing to thrust his fingers.

“It’s okay if you search me deeper. With this,” whimpered Mary, stroking Morton’s hard cock through his pants.

Morton drew back and pulled out his fingers. “I’m afraid I’m out of condoms.”

“You don’t need one,” Mary assured him. “I’m infertile.”

“Believe her,” said Barton.

“Very well, it’s not like I prefer condoms, quite the opposite,” said Morton, unbuckling his belt. “Young lady, panties off, dress up, and on my desk. Sheriff, care to join me as usual?”

Barton waved his hand. “No, I’ve had a busy morning. I’ll sit this one out.”

“As you can see Miss Jones, stroking your wet cunt has made me extremely hard. I’m afraid I’m not small.”

Mary had enjoyed bigger, but it was a nice big one, and she wanted to be complimentary. “Oh no sir, I suppose you might ruin me, but I need it so bad. I’m resolved.”

“It might hurt at first, but you’ll learn to love it.”

The store manager stroked his large cock progressively deeper into the excited teen’s wet cunt. He was surprised and pleased when she orgasmed with a shudder and a whimper after his first few full strokes. Now he knew he need not hold back. He pounded Mary like a maniac. He’d never had a girl so tight and toned in her twat that could take him this pleasurably.

“Oh Miss Jones, you are spellbinding,” Morton enthused as he thoroughly enjoyed his length in and out of her slick tightness.

“AAAAHH!!” Mary orgasmed shrilly by way of response.

“I’m not going to last long at this rate,” Morton grunted.

“AWWWW!!” Mary shuddered and orgasmed again. Her cunt walls fluttered and stroked his cock as he stretched her to her limit again and again.

“Are you ready to accept my seed, young lady?” said the manager.

“Mhmm,” moaned Mary.

“You were a bad girl to lose your charge plate. Now pay for it, you naughty little cunt! Take my seed, every drop! UUUNGH!!”

“HAHAHAWWWW!!” cried Mary in mutual spend. She felt the warm waves of Morton’s semen spill into her.

They panted quietly together for a minute. Morton produced a handkerchief and gave it to Mary. She held it under his penis to catch the spill as he carefully withdrew. Once he was out, she pressed it to her opening.

“Yes, keep all my seed in you,” said Morton. “If you want more, come to my office to return the handkerchief once you’ve laundered it. Otherwise, keep it and think of me.”

“You’re too kind,” said Mary, slipping her panties back on over the handkerchief. Morton assured them the old plate would be canceled and a new one issued. They left the store on amicable terms.

On the way back to his patrol car, Mary said, “I could go another round. Do you have time for a quickie?”

“I’m sorry Mary. Normally I would have enjoyed your bunghole back in the manager’s office while he enjoyed your front. Bill and I have done that before with a shoplifter or two. But I’m still a bit tired from having your d-, I mean your very kind housekeeper. These words! I try to keep up with the times, Mary, but it’s tough. Pretty soon they’ll be saying it’s wrong to call a spade a spade.”

“That’s another word you shouldn’t use to refer to negro people,” said Mary.

“You see? I don’t see how that’s any different from saying ‘wop’, ‘kike’, or ‘chink’.”

“Those are all bad words.”

“Soon there won’t be any words left!”

“Come now, there are plenty of perfectly polite words to use.”

Barton answered only with a growl as they climbed into his cruiser.

They were through the checkpoints and back at the Jones’s residence in minutes. Mary waved to Barton from the front stoop as he zoomed away.

(To be continued)
« Last Edit: November 07, 2021, 06:15:23 PM by Sweetums »



Offline Sweetums

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Reply #7 on: November 08, 2021, 01:34:14 AM
Chapter Four: Public Service

Mary packed her scuba equipment into her 1930 baby blue Packard Roadster, the two door model. She was going to do a little creek fishing! Whatever had capsized her canoe, it was going down under her spear gun. She was a crack shot with all kinds of weapons. Sharks and alligators didn’t frighten her.

To fool the roadblocks, she had a mannequin she kept in the garage. She dressed it up as a sheriff’s deputy holding up his ID. The outfit was easily put together from various articles of clothing deputies had previously forgotten at her place.

After kissing Margaret goodbye very thoroughly and caressing her breasts and cunt fondly, Mary headed to the Poppyseed Inn. Her roadster roared to life. She flew towards the first of several roadblocks on the way.

She came upon a big red delivery truck that was plodding along. She made to pass it, but the truck steered into her with a crunch. Her roadster spun out of control. All she could remember afterwards was the truck’s distinctive flying eagle head ornament.

When she awakened, a handsome young man’s face was close to hers. He was breathing hard and had a look of concern. She noticed the state trooper’s uniform, the upper half at least. There was a stirring in her loins because the trooper was availing himself. Her legs were up and apart, and his cock was stirring her honey pot deeply.

He paused breathlessly. “Miss… uh… oh goodness! Looks like I’ve… successfully revived you!” He pulled out. “Um… you’re welcome!”

“Interesting resuscitation method,” said Mary.

“Well… um...” said the flummoxed trooper.

“But now I have an itch. I was just about to have an orgasm. You know what those are?”

“Yes,” said the trooper.

“Will you keep scratching my itch then?”

“Only if you take my semen. I dislike the withdrawal method. Are you safe?”

“You weren’t asking that before,” said Mary.

“Good point. Trooper Bill, at your service, ma’am.” With a grunt, the trooper thrust into her and continued his motions. His strokes began to shorten.

“Oh, you were close, but I think I’m there,” said Mary. “You can shoot.”

“As I wish!” Bill grunted. He strained, and his hot seed filled her.

“Mmmm,” Mary enthused. She loved a good squirt. “Yes!!” She wrapped her legs around him and shuddered in orgasm as he continued to flood her.

The trooper lay down on her ungraciously, pressing her into the dirt. “Oh, that was satisfying,” he groaned. “You wouldn’t believe how many women I’ve met around here who don’t appreciate the state police as they should.”

Bill must be one of those troopers assigned to the RHAPE Task Force, Mary thought. “You seem a decent sort,” she said. “You wouldn’t rape a woman, would you? But what am I saying? You were raping me as I lay unconscious. I take back the decent part.”

“That’s such a strong word,” said Bill. “I didn’t hear you say ‘No’. Plus, you weren’t wearing any panties. That makes you a slut, and probably a whore.”

“You didn’t hear me say ‘yes’,” said Mary. “Ergo, rape, panties or not.”

“Rape is such a harsh word,” said the trooper. “I’m not a harsh man. Let’s not dwell on it. Hearing you speak, you’re clearly an educated and refined young lady. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt regarding your lack of panties.”

“You’re a handsome man,” said Mary. “You don’t need to rape anyone to get laid. Why do you do it?”

“It’s my job, kinda,” said Bill. “Blame the system.” He lifted himself off of her. As his penis slid out, a big dollop of his semen rolled out of her onto the back of her skirt. He stood up. “Anyway, I’ve never taken a woman by force, ergo, not rape, miss.”

The trooper outweighed her by a factor of two, so it had been uncomfortable, but it had been warm under him. It was chilly and windy out. She stood up and dusted herself off. “Just because a woman doesn’t fight you doesn’t mean she wants you. If you don’t ask, and she doesn’t invite, it’s rape. If she’s drunk or otherwise impaired, such as, ahem, unconscious, trooper, it’s rape. If you ask, and she doesn’t answer yes, it’s rape.”

“Miss, it seems to me you want the human race to die out,” rejoined Bill. “If a woman invites me, she’s a dirty slut and her reputation is ruined. People get drunk to have sex all the time. It’s rude to pose such obscene questions to a woman. Admit it, the best solution for everyone is don’t ask, don’t tell. Even so, my rule of thumb is, ‘If she says no, let her go’.”

“Is that really what you do?” asked Mary skeptically. “What about with me?”

“You didn’t say ‘no’, you said ‘ugh’,” the trooper said. “And admittedly, I usually give women several chances to take back their ‘no’. But if they’re adamant, I don’t press it further.”

“Answer me honestly. Do you think your badge make you more successful with women?” asked Mary.

“Does a bear shit… well… here?”

“Not right here, I hope,” said Mary, examining the back of her skirt.

“Never fear, the dirt underneath you was perfectly clean, for dirt. I meant the woods in general.”

“Your position of power allows you to coerce women into doing things they wouldn’t normally do.”

“Or you could say that women like a man in uniform.”

Mary glared at him.

“Okay, okay, I’m willing to admit, the badge is coercive. The power is coercive. When I tell a woman to submit to a strip search, she has to comply or go to jail. Once I have the woman naked and I’m wiggling my fingers in her, it gets harder and harder for her to refuse me. Unlike some troopers, if the woman is still reluctant, I don’t just go ahead and take her by force. I’m not an animal. I’m willing to sniff and taste her vaginal opening to check for trace amounts of illegal substances. That opens a lot of legs that are still tightly closed after the finger wiggling alone. The women I search, from, let’s say definitely eighteen to eighty, married or unmarried, almost always spread. That’s why it’s only one load to a customer. I’m a public service.”

“That is all rape!” insisted Mary. “Just sticking your fingers into a woman’s vagina is rape.”

“Legally, no,” said the trooper. “It would be molestation or something, except it’s a legal search, so it’s legal.”

“Just because it’s legal doesn’t make it morally right.”

“Speaking of right and wrong, you have a mannequin of a sheriff’s deputy in the passenger seat of your car. Although I suppose it’s not technically illegal, it is suspicious behavior. I’m afraid I’ll have to detain you for questioning, very thorough questioning, by my entire squad.” He smiled brightly at her.

Mary picked up the spear gun from the scuba supplies in her back seat and fired it at the trooper. As she intended, it went right between his legs and buried itself in the side of his cruiser. A wet stain started at the crotch of his trousers and spread downwards as he peed himself in terror.

“If you hurt any of my friends, next time I’ll aim a little higher,” she threatened.

“And YOU say I’M coercive.”

“The difference is, I’m serving the public, and you’re not.”

“Ouch,” said the trooper, swallowing hard. “You’re not making this easy, but I’ll tell you what. You are one crazy bitch, so you win. I’m calling in sick, as of now. I have to go back upstate and recuperate. You won’t see me again.”

“Find a better line of work.”

“I’ll consider it, miss.”

“It’s Miss Mary Jones, if you please. I aim to become the world’s first G-Woman. If I do, and your organization is still pulling this shit, I’ll be all over you guys like a nest of hornets. Except my stingers are bigger.” She reloaded her spear thrower. “Throw me your keys and stand over there, Trooper Bill.”

She used his cruiser to winch her roadster out of the ditch. “Don’t follow me,” she said. Then she threw him his keys and drove away.

As Mary had expected, with her dummy, she was waved through the roadblocks without even having to slow down. She was almost in sight of the Poppyseed Inn when one last roadblock loomed ahead. The trooper was not getting out of the road. She screeched to a halt to avoid hitting him.

“My love, my love, I recognized you from afar,” the trooper said. He came up on the driver’s side and leaned on it. “I thought you never wanted to see me again! And here you are, back for more. You must want it even harder this time, eh sweetheart? I thought you might start missing me. Oh, and look, you brought a friend. That’s a serious infraction, miss. I’m afraid we’ll have to detain you again.”

Mary was intrigued. The trooper must have encountered her impostor. She wanted to learn more. “What was your name again?”

“You cut me to the quick,” the trooper insisted. “It’s Pete. You don’t have much going on upstairs, do you, Miss Jones?”

“And what did you stop me for last time?” asked Mary.

“What, do you have amnesia? It was your pretty face that stopped my heart first. Mmm, and these slim little titties.” He grabbed one and gave it a pinch until Mary pulled away.

“Yes!” said Pete. “Feisty as ever! All right, step out of the vehicle, miss. Both hands on the hood. No sudden moves, or I might have to shoot you, ha ha.”

As she climbed slowly out of her roadster, hands raised, she asked, “What was I driving last time?”

“You kill me. You’re killing me. A red delivery truck with that big flying eagle hood ornament. And your buddy didn’t lift a finger to stop me, remember? Good move, ditching him for a mannequin.”

“I thought so, too,” said Mary, putting her hands on the hood of her roadster. It was warm.

The trooper roughly kicked her legs wide apart. Cold hands gripped her thighs. Two cold fingers touched her sloppy vulva and withdrew. “I see you came prepared… more than prepared… seasoned.” The two fingers went under her skirt, found her vaginal opening, and pushed roughly into her. Even though she was well-lubricated, it was a shock. The trooper had big fingers compared to her tiny twat. Big, cold fingers.

“You need to get some gloves,” she commented.

“You’ve calmed down considerably,” said Pete. His cold fingers wiggled in her. His rough, cold thumb was stroking her gooey button. It was not arousing. “Last time, in case you don’t recall, you screamed bloody murder until I gagged you. Even then, you fought the first three or four men. I see our checkpoints have tamed you.”

Mary was extremely irritated. She was actually feeling sympathy for the girl who had run up a two thousand dollar bill on her charge plate. “Anything else you found notable regarding our previous encounter?” she prompted.

His fingers came out of her. “I like how smooth your-” His fingers encountered her muff. He tugged on it.

“Ow!”

“What the?” Trooper Pete jumped back in shock. “You’re not Mary Jones!” he exclaimed. “She was shaved bare as a baby’s butt!”

Mary turned around to face him. “You got me. I’m her identical twin sister.” And if you buy this, she thought, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I want to sell you.

“Well, whoever you are, you’re under arrest,” said the trooper.

“On what charge?” Mary demanded.

“Impersonating an officer,” he said, pointing to the mannequin.

“That’s just a Halloween decoration.”

“It’s July.”

“So I’m lazy about taking down decorations. Arrest the mannequin.”

The trooper unlatched his holster.

“You’re going to pull your gat on a girl half your size?” Mary scoffed.

“Put your hands on your head and walk over to the tent. I’ll process you very thoroughly there. Then I’ll hand you over to my buddies for further questioning.”

Mary put her hands on her head. “Why did you release my sister?”

“We didn’t release her,” the trooper replied. “She disappeared, escaped. Ronnie was supposed to be, ahem, enjoying her. We gave him hell about it. So, next time you see her, tell her to turn herself in, heh, heh. Now, move it.”

“Not so fast,” said Mary. “I’m not going in there unless you agree to perform oral sex on me. After your cold hands, I really need it. Yes, and really clean me up. And you must give me at least one orgasm before going in.”

Pete guffawed. “You’re not in a position to dictate terms. You’re cunt is filthy, and I don’t know where it’s been, so absolutely not.”

“Strike one.”

“I wouldn’t even do that to my wife, if she was clean and all, I mean.”

“Strike two.”

“And what’s an orgasm?”

“Strike three.” Mary approached Pete as if to hug him, and she did. At the same time, she drew his handcuffs out of his belt. She threw one bracelet around the wrist of his gun hand. She yanked his arm and threw the other bracelet around the bar on a metal tent post behind him. She drew his pistol and threw it away into the bushes. She backed away, fending off his attempt to grab her.

“Mary’s sister,” he said, “I’ll find you and bring you to justice, and your sister, too. You’re both doomed.”

“Don’t make me humiliate you again. I hate mistreating animals.” Mary walked over, raised the boom gate, and climbed back into her roadster. She drove on, leaving Trooper Pete fighting with the tent post and losing.

It was almost six o’clock when Mary pulled into the parking area at the Poppyseed Inn. Mary found the others out back relaxing on the patio.

“Mary! Welcome! What took you so long?” exclaimed Francine.

“Those troopers won’t take no for an answer,” said Mary. “I had to harpoon one with my spear gun and handcuff another to his tent.”

Everybody laughed gaily. They thought she was joking.

“Did the first one yield any blubber?” joked Kevin.

“No, but he did pee himself,” answered Mary.

There was more laughter.

“Mary, allow me to introduce Julie Penrose of the Madison Penroses,” said Francine, gesturing to a pretty girl with long straight straw blonde hair down to her midriff. Mary smiled graciously. Her tits were even smaller than Mary’s.

“And have you met Mr. Early? He’s the former owner of the Inn. He’s graciously stayed on to run the kitchen.” A wizened, kindly-looking, bald man squinted and grinned at Mary.

“You know, the history of this place is fascinating,” said Mr. Early to the group.

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Early,” said Francine. Evidently, she’d heard this one.

“It used to be a brothel until the turn of the century, when I bought it,” continued Early.

“I never would have guessed, what with all the bedrooms,” said Mary wryly.

“Tell us all about your break-in, Mary,” said Mrs. Quigley, the social director.

“Yes, tell us,” said Aunt Irene.

“There’s not much to say,” said Mary. “One of my charge plates was stolen. Some items were charged on it. Evidently, someone around town is successfully impersonating me. So, watch out for impostors.”

“Miss Jones, you do lead a most colorful life,” said Mrs. Quigley.

(To be continued)
« Last Edit: November 08, 2021, 05:04:54 PM by Sweetums »