by MC, Doctor
I said, “I’m flattered, ladies, I really am. But I don’t understand, why is this a crisis? C’mon, surely Jeanette has had crushes on guys before.”
“Not really,” Jeanette said, “not since I hooked up with Ashley. Guys are all immature, wimpy, or bullshitters, truly. But you’re the real deal.”
“You’re not interested in guys you meet at Nimfo Club?” I asked.
Both women laughed. Ashley said, “Guys who come to strip clubs are losers!”
“Really, Ashley? You met me at your strip club.”
“Because Mike dragged you there. If you’d walked in our door under your own steam, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“So why are you two here, Ashley? What do you want from me?”
The mobster-wannabee stripper answered with a strange question: “How many bedrooms are in your house?”
“Two or three,” I said, my face showing my puzzlement. “I have three bedrooms, but I use one as a home office, and I’d put a bed in there only in an emergency. Why?”
“Jen-Jen wants to serve you, but also wants to serve me; and I want Jen-Jen to be happy. So here’s my idea: I move my queen-sized bed into an empty bedroom of your house, and Jeanette moves her twin bed into your bedroom or wherever it’ll fit. Then you fuck her whenever you want.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“You haven’t heard the sweetener.”
“Go.”
“I pay you five hundred bucks a month, and I myself give you two blowjobs a week.”
“Ashley, I like you, but right now you’re a stripper and a whore. Being a whore means your phone ringing all the time, and you coming and going a lot. Denied.”
“What about a thousand bucks a month, three blowjobs a week, and I quit the hooking?”
Now it was Jeanette’s head that whipped around. “You’d really stop?”
Ashley replied, “Why not? House is nearly paid for, and it’s a bitch dodging vice-squad cops.” To me, Ashley said, “You still don’t get to fuck me, but I figure you’ll survive. Oh yeah, three sucks a week from me, plus Sarah and two slave girls fucking and sucking you whenever you want? You’ll survive.”
Not to mention, a blowjob every morning from Susan, I thought.
“Do we have a deal?” Jeanette pressed.
I picked up my phone. “As soon as I bounce it off Sarah, maybe we have a deal.”
I expected Sarah to blow a gasket—or at least to pout and cry. Instead, she said, “My Tim the Honey Dick is becoming a real stud muffin. Just save some for me, sweetie, okay?”
I hung up the phone and told my visitors, “I’ll be home around six. You guys can bring stuff then.”
****
I walked my visitors out to Ashley’s pink Lexus, then returned to my office. Susan stopped her transparent attempt at looking busy as soon as I passed by her desk. She asked me, “Can I ask what that was about?”
I shrugged. “Tonight I’ll have two more women moving into my house.”
“Two more women?” Susan repeated, her eyebrows shooting up.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, kicking myself. I hadn’t told Susan about my unusual home life, lest she blast me with a feminist rant.
But instead, Susan smiled and nodded. “So long as they’re not working for you, good for you.”
“Actually, they are. Remember the other girls in the commercial? But Sarah and Deborah moved in with me before then.”
Susan lightly punched my arm and grinned at me. “Sounds like you’re getting that harem you’ve always wanted.”
Realizing that Susan was right, I started getting erect. Which Susan immediately noticed. “Oh, my poor boss,” she said. “I wouldn’t be helpful if I left you distracted by a hard-on.”
So saying, she took me by the hand, dragged me into my office, shut the door, and dropped to her knees. I got my second Susan-blowjob of the day.
It’s good to be king.
Chapter 14
Ashley + Ashley + Ashley
That Monday, I announced at the end of the Morning Meeting that I was taking the rest of the day off—my first day off since my father’s heart attack. Susie offered to walk me to my car.
“You’ll never guess what I did this weekend,” she told me.
“I give up.”
“I moved into a new apartment. Meadow Green Apartments, number 262. Have you heard of them? They’re in the 119-hundred block of Grant Drive.”
“I know them, they’re, uh, near the dealership.” They’re also less than five—
Susie clapped her hands. “And my new apartment is three minutes from your house! I checked last night. So feel free to drop in anytime, for coffee or … whatever.”
“Wouldn’t that be inappropriate behavior?”
She slapped my arm. “No, silly, not unless I move into your house. But if you come to my apartment, I can give you a hot, wet fuck anytime you want. That’s just acting friendly.”
“To put it mildly,” I said.
By now we were at my car. Which was parked next to Susie’s car. Through the window glass of Susie’s car, I could see a small cardboard box on the passenger seat. The box was filled with hardback and paperback books.
“What’s with the books?” I asked.
She blushed. “I’m going to donate them to Salvation Army after work.”
“What have you got?”
She blushed redder. “Nothing you’d want to read. They’re books I’ve outgrown.”
I put up my hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry. But I’m curious, and your acting mysterious isn’t helping it.”
Without planning to, I’d said the magic words. Susie pressed the button on her door-lock remote. As her car doors THUNK’d, she said, “Please don’t think I’m still a bitch.”
Seconds later, I had her passenger door open, and I was pulling books out of the box. I remarked, “You’re right. The Politics of Virginity, A History of Male Oppression, Genetics and Gender Roles: A New Paradigm, and Castrating Bitches: A Manifesto—none of these books are what I would want to read.”
Susie now was blushing all the way down to her throat. “Like I said, I’ve outgrown them. They all seem so shrill now. And if feminism means that a woman is free to choose, can’t I choose to dress sexy and give heart-stopping blowjobs?”
“No argument from me,” I said.
****
Less than ten minutes later, I stepped into my house quietly, because I knew that Sarah and Slave Deborah had gone back to sleep as soon as I’d left for work.
A little after ten in the morning, my doorbell rang. It was Ashley and Slave Jeanette, ready to move stuff in.
They weren’t moving a lot in, basically clothes and a bed each, so I didn’t expect them to show up with a moving trailer. And they didn’t—instead, they showed up in the company of two young men and a pick-up truck.
The whole time the two guys’ backs and arms were working, the men wore horn-dog smiles and their eyes were ogling Ashley and Slave Jeanette. And when a yawning Slave Deborah walked out of my bedroom, wearing an oversized green t-shirt and nothing else, the movers’ grins got bigger. (So did Ashley’s.)
When the mover-guys’ hands were free, I introduced myself, stuck out my hand, and asked them their names. Seconds later, I was asking, “So, Steven, Benjamin, tell me: What are you being paid for this?”
“We’re not sure yet,” Steven said. “Gothika didn’t exactly promise anything, you know? Not specifically.” He looked unworried.
Benjamin said, “But she did tell us that she and Peachy would be very grateful if we’d help them out.” Benjamin’s leer told me how he thought that the strippers’ “gratitude” would be expressed.
“Uh-huh,” I said. I left in search of my newest roommates. I found Ashley and Slave Jeanette in my bedroom, talking with Sarah and Slave Deborah.
“So, Ashley,” I said, “what are you planning to pay Steven and Benjamin for their hard work and the use of their truck?”
Ash
ley smiled. “Ten bucks apiece at first, but I’ll let them talk me up to twenty.”
“Really? They think they’re going to get some kind of sex from you two.”
“But I didn’t promise them that. I didn’t promise them anything. If they didn’t nail me down to a fixed payment before they started, that’s their own fault.”
“Just so I’m clear, Ashley: You don’t intend to give blowjobs, tit-fucks, or pussy-fucks to these guys? Neither yourself nor Slave Jeanette paying them with sex?”
Ashley smirked. “Please! Aren’t I a lesbian?”
I frowned. “Ashley Baker, I’m keenly disappointed in you. You led those guys on, using carefully chosen words and tone of voice and body language to promise those guys sex in so many words, making promises which you had no intention of keeping. Lesbian or not, what you did was vile.”
A moment ago, Ashley had been smirking; now she looked ready to cry. “I am so sorry! What should I do?”
“Didn’t you tell me that up till yesterday you charged seventy-five bucks?”
“For a plain-vanilla blowjob, yeah.”
“Then give each guy a refund for the blowjob he doesn’t get. Pay them seventy-five apiece, Ashley.”
Ashley should have argued a blue streak. But thanks to my Power, she didn’t argue; instead she hung her head and said, “That sounds fair.”
****
Being the sultan of a growing harem doesn’t stop my grass from growing. After Ashley and Jeanette unpacked their stuff and we five toasted the move-in with Budweisers, I went outside to mow my lawn.
I cut the side yards and back yard first, because that’s the easy part—my pool means I don’t have to mow as much. I had just started on the front yard when Gothika sashayed out, a glass of pink lemonade in her hand. I let the mower die.
“Hey, you hard-working man,” she said when she got close. She reached into a pocket of her black denim miniskirt and pulled out ten hundred-dollar bills, which she handed to me. She said, “Why don’t you take a break and come inside now? I’ll fix you lunch. Then you can sit on the couch and”—she licked her lips—“I’ll make sure you enjoy your meal.”
I said, “Nah, it’s getting hot. If I stop now, I’ll be cooking my brain when I go back outside.”
Ashley said, “Then how about we go into the garage, and I’ll tonsil your tool by your toolbox? Eight minutes max, guaranteed. Please? I’ve never sucked cock in a garage before.”
“Why are you so hot-to-trot to suck my cock right now?”
“Maybe I’ve suddenly realized how incredibly attractive you are, hmm?”
“Ashley, Ashley, Ashley. Don’t stand in front of me and lie, not even for a joke.”
“Okay, fine,” she said. “After you went out to cut the grass, I tried getting service from Jen-Jen. You know, to christen my new digs? But I couldn’t enjoy it. All I could think of was, `I promised Tim a thousand bucks a month and three blowjobs a week, and I haven’t paid up yet.’ So I need to get square with you, so I can get my clit licked and enjoy it.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Ashley, wait till later for that first one here. I’m not interested in getting sexy with you right now.”
“Ahem!” a man’s voice said, behind me.
I turned around. Standing on the sidewalk was “Brother Simon” Effib, along with his wife and teen daughter. Brother Simon was giving me a disgusted look.
****
“Brother Simon” owned a nicer house than I did. He lived in a mansion that filled the cul-de-sac that was at the end of my street.
And you know how it is—some people think that if they own a bigger house than you, or a nicer car, they’re a better human being than you are. I was coming to suspect that Brother Simon was one of those snobs.
Both Brother Simon’s wife and his daughter were looking at me intently, which was strange.
If you’ve ever tuned in to one of those church broadcasts, you know what the three Effibs looked like. Brother Simon had a pompadour. His wife had bleached-blond and teased hair, well-selected but understated makeup, and well-tailored and conservatively cut (but brightly colored) clothing. The teen was dressed the same as her mother, making allowances for age, and so looked like the poster girl for corn-fed wholesome innocence.
“Mister Hanson,” said Brother Simon to me, “we’ve noticed that several flamboyant women have moved into your house recently, of which she is typical.” He pointed his chin at Gothika.
“Oh, you mean us strippers?” Gothika said. “Yeah, there are four of us erotic dancers living with Tim now. Is that a problem?”
“`Is that a problem?’ Woman, this is a god-fearing, tax-paying neighborhood that believes in Christian family values. We do not want immorality here. More to the point, we do not want immoral women here!”
I interrupted him with “`We’ do not? Are your wife and daughter mute?” I turned to look at them. “What say you two? Do you call four women whom you’ve never met, `immoral’?”
“Because they’re strippers?” the daughter said. “I honestly don’t know. But if I looked like your girlfriend, I’d be tempted to find out after high school, how immoral a stripper’s life could be.”
“Ashley Lynn! Be quiet!” Brother Simon said.
“Just being truthful, Father. Part of me is curious to know how much men would pay to see me naked. And I’m really curious whether Mister Hanson would pay to see me naked.”
Gothika strolled up to the girl and looked her up and down, as if Daddy wasn’t mere feet away and glaring. “Girlie, you have a pretty face, and your legs are shaped nice, but you need to get `work’ done.” Gothika hefted her giant tits.
“Silence, woman!” Brother Simon said. “Ashley Lynn! Home, now!”
The daughter rolled her eyes, smiled at me, then turned toward her house. As she walked away, she murmured, “Now I’ll definitely have to wait.” I had no idea what she meant by that.
Meanwhile, Brother Simon’s wife was saying, “I’m torn. A big part of me does think that stripping is immoral. But I’m like Ashley Lynn—part of me wants to know that Tim Hanson and other men would pay to see me naked.”
“Ashley Sue, stop saying these ridiculous things! Are you touched by Satan?” thundered Brother Simon.
“No, just being truthful.” She smiled at me, and her smile was more like Potiphar’s wife than a minister’s wife.
Brother Simon pointed at his large house. “Ashley Sue! Home! Obey me.”
Ashley Sue gave me another sexy smile, then turned and walked home. Brother Simon didn’t notice, but I sure did: Ashley Sue was walking away with a definite hip-sway.
Brother Simon stepped forward and shoved a finger in my face. “See what you’ve done? These immoral women whom you’ve brought here have brought moral decay with them.”
I replied, “Word of advice: Don’t wave a finger in the face of someone who’s pulled more than his share of engines, unless you plan to lose that finger.”
Not trusting myself further around this blowhard, I turned my back on him, walked back to my mower, and started it up. Brother Simon yelled something, but the mower noise drowned it out.
****
To Gothika’s annoyance, I did not accept a blowjob from her as soon as I finished mowing and bagging the grass. I showered, then I ran errands, then the ladies and I went grocery-shopping. Oh, the envious stares I got! Then came the women fixing dinner, and all of us eating it.
Then Sarah and Slave Deborah went to work, while Ashley and Slave Jeanette washed dishes. By the time I was sitting in the recliner and Ashley was slurping my cock, the sun had set and I could just barely see into my back yard.
Slave Jeanette startled. “Someone’s in your back yard!” She took several steps toward my sliding-glass door. “It’s a teenage girl walking a bicycle.”
“What?” I said. I tried to stand up—no easy thing when a woman has my cock in her mouth. “Let me up,” I ordered Gothika, and—after two more slurps—she did.
As I was
tucking my cock in my pants, Gothika muttered, “Shit! The blowjob doesn’t count if it’s stopped halfway through.”
Seconds later, the automatically activated porch light revealed Ashley Lynn standing at my sliding-glass door. As she knocked on the glass, she was pulling a knapsack off her shoulder.
Slave Jeanette pulled open the door a few inches, and spoke quietly to Ashley Lynn. Then Slave Jeanette turned to me and said, “She says she needs help with her geometry.” Ashley Lynn, meanwhile, was looking pleadingly at me through the glass.
I gestured for Ashley Lynn to enter; as soon as she was inside, I asked, “Why are you asking me for help, instead of somebody in your class?”
She said, “I fibbed to your roommate. I’m here so that you’ll, um, take my cherry. I hope I’ve waited long enough.” Again she looked pleadingly at me. “Mom and Father think I’m at Debbie Barrett’s house.”
Shit, my Power strikes again. “You’re offering me your virginity? Out of the question—go home!”
Ashley Lynn shook her head. “Mister Hanson, my first time, it’s gotta be with you, right here.” Then she glanced down at Gothika and back in my eyes. “Mister Hanson, um, I know it’s none of my business, um, but was she giving you, um, a you-know?”
Considering that Gothika was kneeling more-or-less in front of the recliner, my face was flushed, and my cock inside my shorts was erect, I couldn’t very well lie. “Yeah, something like that,” I replied to Ashley Lynn.
She bit her lip. “I’ve never kissed a boy’s thing before. So my first time for that has to be with you too.”
“Bullshit!” cried Gothika, who was standing up from her kneeling position. “You’re not getting your cherry mouth anywhere near Tim’s cock till he’s come in my mouth. Got it, girlie?”
I tried to recover the discussion. “Child, I don’t know why you’re pushing me about your virginity, but it’s no go. Period, end of discussion, the end.”
“But you told me to!” said Ashley Lynn. “You said, `Ashley, wait till later for that first one here. I’m not interested in getting sexy with you right now.’”
I tried using what I’d learned with Susie, about changing a prior Power command. “Ashley Lynn, when I said that, I didn’t mean you. I was talking—”