by MC, Doctor
SUSAN: Tim Hanson Ford is on Smith Freeway, right?
SARAH: Yes. Tim Hanson Ford is on Smith Freeway northbound, a quarter-mile north of the Woodrow Wilson exit.
Chapter 11
The Commercial Airs
The next week was crazy at Tim Hanson Ford.
The commercial aired during the noontime news of three TV stations, roughly twenty-four hours after we’d started shooting it. Our phone started ringing. Half the callers asked, “Your `No Cheat Guarantee,’ you don’t really mean that, do you?” The other half of our callers demanded to know, “Who are those babes?”
By six that evening, the ad was posted on YouTube, and I was getting calls from “The Today Show” and “Good Morning America.” The next morning I had to pass up a blowjob from Deborah because I was doing “live via satellite” TV interviews.
Two days later, a customer came to my office and told me that he’d overheard Jeff (a salesman I’d never liked) tell a young couple that he was overestimating their income on the loan application “so that you’ll be sure to be approved.” Reputable car salesmen disapprove of such a practice; it sticks the car-buyer with payments he can’t afford. The dishonest car salesman has long since spent his commission check when the repo truck hauls the overextended borrower’s car away.
With the snitching customer tagging along, I confronted Jeff McBeal, who admitted his misdeed to me. (Amazing, huh?) The customer’s jaw dropped when, just as I’d promised, I fired Jeff then and there.
What I didn’t know until next morning was that the customer who’d tattled on Jeff was a local newspaper reporter, doing an undercover investigation. The newspaper article not only described the Jeff situation, but also outed Susan as the damsel-in-distress in the commercial. The article’s headline was “Wow, Tim Hanson means it.”
Chapter 12
Dinner With Gothika
On the phone I heard Susan’s voice. “Mr. Hanson, you have a call from a Jeanette McAllister. She says it’s … personal?” Susan’s voice sounded puzzled.
I was puzzled too; I didn’t recognize the name. “Hello, this is Tim Hanson.”
“Mister Hanson, I am Slave Jeanette, and Mistress Gothika—”
“Oh, you mean Ashley?”
“Mistress will be pleased that you remembered her name. Anyway, Mistress Ashley has commanded that I invite you to dinner with us, either tomorrow night or the night after, whichever is convenient for you.”
“That’s short notice. Do you know why she said those nights, and not later?”
“Mistress did not confide her reasons to her slave. But I know that she’s off, those nights.”
And Sarah works both those nights. Could supposedly lesbian Ashley be making a play for me? I wondered. Aloud I said, “Tomorrow night’s fine. I can be there at six-thirty.”
****
The following evening at 6:30, I was holding a bottle of wine as I stood at Ashley’s front door, in a prosperous part of town. I rang the doorbell.
When strawberry-blond Jeanette opened the door, I recognized her as a dancer at the Nimfo Club. Now she was dressed in white platform stilettos, a white micro-miniskirt, and a white fishnet “blouse” that did nothing to cover her unbrassiered tits. Jeanette gave me a spokesmodel smile and said, “Mistress welcomes you and invites you to enter.”
“Freely and of your own will,” added a woman’s voice from behind Jeanette.
I walked through the door and past Jeanette. Ashley/Gothika stood there in a black-leather dress that was cut like an evening gown with slits up the side. Needless to say, the dress flattered Ashley’s gigantic tits. Her hair and fingernails were still black, her lipstick was midnight red, her eye shadow was midnight purple, and she was wearing black-skull dangling earrings.
She smiled at me and said, “Thank you for bringing wine. Slave Jeanette, kiss Tim on the cheek and then pour three glasses of wine. You may take an equal share.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Jeanette obediently kissed my cheek, and then took the wine bottle into the kitchen.
Ashley laughed. “Fuck, Tim, it is such a relief that you have a slave of your own! There’s so much explanation I can skip. Did your girl really become your slave to save her Corvette?”
I shrugged. “That, and to stay out of jail.”
By now, Ashley had led me to facing overstuffed chairs. Jeanette walked up, handed Ashley and me each a wineglass, then sat on the right arm of Ashley’s chair. Ashley reached over and moved her right hand inside Jeanette’s tiny skirt, while Ashley sipped the wine that she held in her left hand. No panties covered Jeanette’s shaved pussy. If Jeanette was embarrassed at being masturbated in front of me, she didn’t say so.
Less than a minute later, Jeanette bit her lip. “I’m close to cumming, Mistress.”
Ashley withdrew her hand, wiping her wet fingers on Jeanette’s skirt. “Serve dinner now, slave. Make me be pleased with you. You may pull your skirt down.”
Jeanette glanced at me, then said, “Thank you, Mistress.” She stood up, tugged on her skirt, and walked into the kitchen. Jeanette’s face was red, her nipples jutted out, and she smelled like hot pussy.
****
During dinner, I explained how Deborah had become my slave. (Except that I didn’t mention my Power’s part in Deborah’s enslavement.) Then I asked, “So Jeanette, tell me, how did it happen with you?”
Jeanette said, “It started in high school. We both were going to the same high school—”
“Slave, why are you speaking with a man without my permission?” Ashley asked, with bite in her voice.
“But Mistress, he told me to tell him—”
I realized what the problem was: my Power had made Jeanette answer my question. So it was up to me to fix things. Something I said must’ve worked, because seconds later, Ashley was smiling across the table. “Slave Jen-Jen, you are forgiven.” Ashley made a gesture toward Jeanette, Continue your story.
Jeanette said, “We both were in Grand City Central High. I was a cheerleader in the Junior class. Ashley was a Senior and a Goth.”
I laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Anyway, Ashley saw a mouse in the school cafeteria, so she organized a cafeteria boycott. I’d blown her off before—she wasn’t cool, she wasn’t popular—but with this boycott, she took charge. She was strong. She was a goddess.”
“Did it work?” I asked Ashley. “The boycott?”
“Yeah, eventually, after I went around to all the cliques—jocks and cheerleaders, stoners, nerds—and made my case. Several times. At first the school said, `We don’t have the budget for an extra exterminator visit,’ but a week later, they caved.”
I turned to the strawberry blonde. “So Jeanette, how did you two hook up?”
Jeanette made eye contact with Ashley, then said, “On the second day of the boycott, I started keeping her company outside the cafeteria during lunch hour. And on one of those days—”
“Fourth day of the boycott,” Ashley said, “which was your third lunchtime to be hanging with me.”
“Anyway, lunch hour was almost over and she said, `Fuck, I forgot to get my Shakespeare book. Jeanette, go fetch it out of my locker and bring it here before the bell rings.’ So I did.”
I nodded. “She didn’t ask you to, she ordered you to.”
Jeanette said, “And that’s how my slavery to Mistress started.”
Ashley said, “As soon as she handed me the book, I kissed her, right in the school hallway. The hallway was empty, but still! When I kissed her and she didn’t freak, I knew I had her.” Ashley smiled, then said, “And now she’s my stripper sex slave.”
****
A few minutes later, Ashley said to me, “In your commercial, Sarah was driving the Mustang, and another dancer was in the passenger seat—”
I nodded. “My slave Deborah.”
Ashley said, “So the women in the Mustang were dancers I know. But who was the third dancer?”
I said blankly, “Third dancer
?”
“The blond hottie whose old clunker broke down. Where does she work at?”
“She’s not a stripper. She’s my receptionist.”
“Oh, really,” Ashley said, her voice dropping an octave. “Well, if she decides to earn extra cash as a dancer, I’ll be glad to help in any way I can.”
“I’ll tell her, if Susie mentions anything. But I don’t think she’s interested.”
A few minutes later, Ashley asked, “So are you going to make more of those commercials? With the three women?”
I said, “Sure. These ads are different than what the other dealers are doing.”
“They certainly are,” Ashley said, laughing. Then her eyes went a little out of focus, as if she was thinking hard about something.
****
Dinner was over, and we all three walked into the living room. I sat down on the couch, but then Ashley walked over to me, knelt in front of me, and smiled at me. I got a magnificent view of magnificent tits.
“Tim,” she said, “I’ve really enjoyed having you as my guest. You’re interesting to talk with.” Fifteen seconds later, her mouth was on my cock.
She sucked me fast. She sucked me slow. Her tongue swirled my head. She tongued my wrinkled spot. She deepthroated me. I was reminded again that she had been able to pay cash for a new car by charging big money for her blowjobs, and she was giving me this one for free.
Actually, she gave me 1-1/2 blowjobs for free. She sucked me to orgasm (which felt glorious), then milked me to limpness, then kept sucking me till I was hard and happy again.
Ashley pulled her mouth off my erect cock, then stood up. “Slave Jeanette, take Tim into the guest bedroom and fuck him till I tell you to stop. You have permission to cum.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Jeanette said, as she eyed my cock. Her nipples were hard.
Jeanette took me into a small room that was nearly filled by a double bed. As soon as I shut the door, Jeanette started to undress.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m undressing,” she said. Seeing my puzzled look, she added, “I get naked, then I undress you, then you have me.”
“Stop, Jeanette. Stop right there. Let me undress you.”
It didn’t take long, because she wasn’t wearing much. And I swear, she was getting off on it. I said to her, “Jeanette, tell me why this excites you.”
She was flushed now. “Because it’s been so long since anyone undressed me.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
Jeanette shrugged. “Now it’s my turn to do you.”
She did a lot of stroking and caressing in the process of undressing me—more than was necessary to remove my clothing. All that touching of Jeanette’s was making my cock twitch. She had just pulled my shorts to the floor, and I was just stepping out of them, when the bedroom door opened.
I turned around to see Ashley leaning against the doorjamb, leering at us. She said, “Goody, I’m just in time for the fireworks.”
I said, “Ahem. People get privacy for what Jeanette and I are about to do.”
“You’re in my house. You’re about to fuck my slave. I’m entitled to see this,” Ashley replied.
I sighed. “I remind you that I’m not a rutting stud bull, and I’m not another of your slaves—I don’t have to play your game. Ashley, you have two choices: You walk out now, and shut the door and wait till we’re done, or you get naked now and I fuck you too.”
“I don’t like either of those choices.”
“Otherwise, I get dressed right now and I leave, leaving Jeanette horny and needy. And Ashley, you care for Jeanette too much to let her suffer so.”
Ashley’s face, which had been looking at me with a challenging and stubborn expression, now softened as she looked at Jeanette lying on the bed. Ashley said, “It’s true, I care for Jeanette very much.” Turning to face me again, Ashley said, “Enjoy yourselves.” She shut the door as she walked out.
Jeanette looked at me in shock. “How did you do that? Mistress never gives in when she argues with a man!”
I shrugged. “Right now, I’m more concerned about the fact that I’m in bed with a healthy young woman, and she’s horny. I can’t let this continue.”
Now, I exercise, I’d like to think I’m charming, and it looks like I’m not going to lose my hair. Still, when I reached my hand down between her legs, I wasn’t ready for how wet Jeanette was.
“Oh god, please fuck me!” she begged.
I kissed her face. She was a good kisser. While I continued to feel up her pussy (and she writhed and moaned), I moved myself down her body to suck on her nipples. She gasped when my mouth first made contact there.
After a while, I started to move down lower, intending to eat her out, when she said, “Later! Right now I want your meaty male cock in me!”
I obliged her. As soon as I put my cock in her, she wrapped her legs around me and cried, “Oh god!”
She was wet and eager and vocal. She scratched my back and she thrust her hips. She moaned, she grunted, and she screamed. And did I mention, she was wet?
By the time I spurted, Jeanette had come four times that I was sure of. As I was thrusting and gasping, she grabbed my head and kissed me like a leech. “Oh, I can feel you come in me, I made you feel good, you made me feel good. Tim, you are such a real man, you’re my man-lover.” All the time she was talking, she kept trying to also kiss me.
Eventually I rolled off her and onto the bed. Jeanette pushed my shoulder to roll me onto my back. “I have to clean your cock,” she said with a smile.
She cleaned my cock with her lips and tongue. She did such a thorough job cleaning my cock, fifteen minutes after she started, I was spurting again. Unlike Ashley, Jeanette didn’t deepthroat me, but she did swallow me, so I was happy.
****
I really don’t enjoy eating out a pussy that I’ve recently come in. I really don’t. But I’d promised Jeanette a pussy-licking, so I manned up and ate her out. I figured she’d be used to such a thing and get bored, but she screamed and thrashed when I licked her clit.
Minutes later, Jeanette and I were getting dressed. She had been wearing a lot less than me, and so finished first. When I was dressed and ready to leave the bedroom, I found her kneeling on the floor, her heels pressing the door shut.
She looked at me and said quietly, “If you tell me to come with you when you leave, I will. I will be your slave from now on, if you command me so.”
“But you are Ashley’s slave.”
“But you bested her when you two argued tonight. You dominated her. You deserve to claim me.”
I said, “You mean all this as a compliment to me, so thank you. But Deborah’s boyfriend stole from my father, so I wasn’t willing to forgive the debt, and that’s the only reason I have a slave. Jeanette, believe me, I don’t wake up each morning wishing that I had more slaves.”
She sighed. “Which is one of the things that makes you a good master.” She stood up and kissed me on the lips. Then she turned away and opened the bedroom door.
****
Ashley, with Jeanette trailing behind, walked me to the front door. Ashley put her hand on my arm, the only time she had touched me all evening (if you didn’t count digging my cock out of my pants to blow me). Ashley said, “I ask you to put me in your next commercial.”
“I’ll see,” I replied.
I shook Ashley’s hand, then glanced past her to Jeanette, who was watching me closely. “Goodnight, you two,” I said, and left.
Chapter 13
Gothika’s Offer
It was almost lunchtime the next day when my phone rang. Susan said, “Mister Hansen, there are two women here to see you. They say it’s personal.” Lowering her voice, Susan added, “One of them is Jeanette McAllister. I recognize her voice.”
I asked, “Does the other woman have black hair and humongous breasts?”
“Yes and definitely yes,” Susan said. Then she again lowered her voice and ad
ded, “And she’s looking at me like I’m a box of chocolates. She’s already asked if I have a boyfriend.”
“Susan, for sure I’d love to hear the answer to that myself.”
“I had a boyfriend. His name was Adlai. I dated him because he supported my freeing myself from the shackles of male oppression. But the other day, when I was getting my hair dyed blond? I realized then, men like Adlai didn’t interest me anymore. He’s too liberated, you know? So that night, I broke up with him.”
Very interesting, I thought. But aloud I said, “Susan, go ahead and send Ashley and Jeanette into my office.”
Seconds later, the two strippers walked through the door. Jeanette was dressed in pea-green clothing that was conservative. Well, as conservative as a woman with long strawberry-blond hair, breast implants, an athletic figure, and a pretty face could manage.
On the other hand, Ashley didn’t bother trying to look sedate—her outfit was black skyscraper heels under a three-piece outfit of black pinstripe wool that showed a lot of tit. (Perhaps because Ashley has a lot of tit.) My guess was, her ensemble was part of Frederick’s of Hollywood’s Don Corleone Collection.
“Me and Jeanette, we have a problem,” Ashley said. “With you.”
Without being invited to, Ashley walked to the chair facing my desk and sat down. Jeanette moved to stand next to her, her hand on Ashley’s shoulder.
“Tell me the problem, Ashley,” I said.
Ashley glanced up at Jeanette. “Slave Jeanette is hot for you. Beyond her sometimes getting the urge for cock, I mean. You, she’s super-hot for. And last night, I realized I want Jen-Jen to be happy, and it bugs me when she’s not.”
“I see. And Jeanette, what do you have to say about what she said?”
“I can’t stop thinking about you fucking me,” Jeanette replied. “I fantasize about me fucking you not because she orders me to, but because you order me to. And maybe I’m in love with you.”
Ashley’s head whipped around. “You didn’t tell me that.”