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 Dick and Jane 02 By Pylades

   Jane was in a quandary all day; she continuously kept glancing at the
clock.  10:00, 10:15, she agonized by the minute.  What would she do, what
could she do.  Her head was telling her no, but her pussy was screaming
with need.  She had already gotten herself off twice that morning and now
she was wet again.  Nothing helped; even the vacuum hose was giving her
lewd ideas.  Lewd ideas that always ended up including Frances and that
raspy voice of hers.  When she had said she wanted to mark her as her
bitch, Jane nearly swooned.  Then the way she took her...No,no, no just
can't think about it.  She got through another hour, her mind fluctuating.
Until the ringing of the phone.  "Hello," she knew who it was.  "Hello,
bitch." the voice captivated her, "Have you been thinking dirty thoughts
all morning?  Have you been jerking off with my panties plastered to your
face?" Jane nodded, a tear falling down her cheek.  She had used the
panties the second time a little over an hour ago.  "Well, have you!  Speak
up, bitch!" "Yes," barely audible.  "Yes what?" "Yes, I used your panties
this morning to you know..." "Yes I know all to well," she heard a slight
chuckle.  "Tell me, did you get off sniffing the crotch or did you lick
those nasty brown streaks up with that slut tongue of yours." "I can't
speak," her voice quivered.  "I have some errands to run and I won't" "You
won't what?  Listen here bitch; you were told to bring those panties back
at 1:00 today, clean and pristine.  Don't tell me you were thinking of
doing something else.  That would make me have to do something else and I
don't think you would like what I would do at all." "It's just that..."
"Don't you fucking interrupt me when I am talking to you!" the voice raised
a pitch.  "You will do what I tell you, you will be here at 1:00 and you
will do what I tell you to do.  Is that clear?" "But" "Is that clear!"
"Yes, maam." "That's better." The voice became that raspy seductress once
again.  "Do not be afraid, little one, it won't hurt a bit, but maybe I
lie, it may hurt you.  But I promised that it would be our little secret
didn't I?  Just be here at 1:00.  Oh, and wear a short skirt." The phone
went dead and so did Jane's hope.

   *************************************

   Jane began looking through her wardrobe with a defeated feeling.  She
didn't know who would be at the party but she did know, that her first
impression would not be good.  She had only really met Frances and Claire,
the next-door neighbors, but had not had time to meet anyone else
really--what with Kevin's work load.  She finally found a semi-modest red
skirt and white blouse ensemble that didn't look too bad, put on a little
make-up and resigned to her fate made the trek over to France's house for
the get together.  Frances was all smiles and hugs at the door as she led
Jane into the living room.  Claire was already there eating an hors devour
and sipping from a champagne glass.  She had an ample figure, large breasts
and a bubble butt; and her hair was curled in a raspberry black tint.  She
was wearing a pantsuit and vest that showed off her cleavage to good
advantage.  Two other women were present; one a slight woman in her forties
who looked almost boyish in a Dior ensemble, the other a radiant woman in a
simple house dress with a body that said all she needed to pull off that
exotic look.  Frances held her firmly around the waist.  "Let me introduce
you," she led Jane into the living room.  "You already know Claire.  This
is Ms Stanton; she lives up the block at the cul-de-sac.  And this is
Olivia, her husband and she moved down just last summer." Jane shook each
of their hands feeling awkward at the appraisal of both women.  Ms. 
Stanton's held her hand and appeared to take stock, while Olivia caressed
the hand and looked deeply into her eyes.  Frances broke the spell and
twirled Jane with her just as the doorbell rang.  "Claire, would you be a
love and play hostess for a few minutes." She began to lead Jane down the
hall.  "I have something I wish to discuss with Janey here." Frances led
her down the hall and into a side bedroom.  Turned to Jane and held out her
hand.  Jane blushed when she realized what the gesture meant.  She had
forgotten all about the panties.  "Well" "I'm sorry," Jane looked stricken,
"I forgot the panties." "Forgot them?" she held Jane under the chin, "and
just what the hell do you expect me to wear?" Frances was wearing a dark
patterned casual dress the skirt at midknee.  She lifted the hem and Jane
saw that she wasn't wearing any panties; her furry cleft was matted down.
Frances jerked Jane's arm around until she had the girl kneeling before
her. "So who is going to sop up all these juices," she twisted the arm
cruelly, "is my little slut up to the task." As she said this she caught
Jane's head in an awkward position at the fork of her torso.  "Start
licking, cunt." Jane's pussy began to trickle as the woman had her way with
her, humping her nose and face in her pussy canal.  Jane's began lapping at
the drippings with her tongue trying to clean this insatiable woman up, but
the more she licked the more juices appeared, not to mention her own pussy
which was leaking down her thigh.  Frances humped a few more times and then
sated let go of Jane's arm causing her to fall onto the floor.  "That's
enough to take the edge off," she smiled down at Jane.  "Now get those
knickers off now and wipe up the rest of it." Jane quickly pulled her
panties off and wiped the woman's legs down and up to her bush.  "No
panties for you today.  I guess you'll just have to leave them here, and
with that short dress.  I wouldn't bend to far over," she chuckled, "You
might give someone a show." Frances threw the panties at her.  "Wipe your
face you have my pussy all over it." Jane began to feel herself losing
control as she entered the room with a dozen women all chatting about
doings and events, her pussy unencumbered by panties and wet from her
encounter.  If just one of these women were to shove their face into her
cunt, she would be powerless to stop them.  She tried to collect herself,
but her panties had not so much gotten rid of any of the juices, but had
actually just spread them across her face, and with each breath the aroma
was sending her deeper.  Frances walked alongside her and quickly got a
glass and something to eat and began socializing.  Claire came up to her, a
little tipsy, and began to hug her than recoiled suddenly nervous and
fidgety.  God, she can smell it, thought Jane.  She hurried to the bathroom
to wash her face.

   ************************************************

   The party was moving along quite normally, but Jane knew it was just a
matter of time before Frances would reveal her dirty little secret to the
rest of the women.  She knew she wasn't here as an invited guest and every
little gesture, every touch from another woman although apparently innocent
sent a slight sexual overtone to her pussy.  She was speaking to Ms. 
Stanton, but her thoughts kept returning to what Frances had in store for
her.  Would she order her to strip and get on all fours for these women so
that they could see her pussy glistening and wet?  Or perhaps she would
just throw her on the ground and fuck her face like she had done the
previous morning?  "Are you paying attention, dear?" Ms.  Stanton's hand
rested on her knee.  "I was asking you what your husband did for a living."
"I'm sorry," a slight tremor ran through her at the touch, "my mind was
somewhere else at the moment." She couldn't tell if the woman smiled
understandably or smirked at her arrogance.  "Excuse me." She saw Frances
in her peripheral jerking her head for Jane to come over.  Jane took her by
the shoulders whispering conspiratorially, "Don't sit on my expensive
couch, whore," she acted nonchalant, "I don't want you drooling your pussy
juice all over my nice cushions.  You can sit in the straight backed
chair." She pointed towards a chair in the center of the room and Jane
blushed beet red at the inference.  She noticed Claire eying her in a
quizzical manner, as she went over to the chair to sit.  The chair was too
low and when she sat she could feel the hem of her skirt rising.  She
pushed down quickly with her hand.  Humiliation washed over her as she
imagined the women's eyes all glued to her pantyless crotch.  She moved
almost sidesaddle in the chair in an uncomfortable position.  She looked
over at Frances, who appeared to be laughing at Jane with her eyes.  Her
head bowed she spoke to no one for several minutes.  "So you want to tell
me what's going on?" Claire plopped down in the chair next to hers.  "What
do you mean?" "I mean what's the deal between you and Frances?" She leaned
closer, her cleavage expanding.  "Nothing." Jane fidgeted in her seat. 
"She just scares me that's all." "Scares you or something else?" she leaned
closer and sniffed Jane's face.  "There it is again.  My god, girl you sure
can blush.  Let me tell you, I've been watching you all afternoon and you
are one jumpy philly right now.  Every time Frances looks at you you jump
and I thought you were going to choke on that carrot when she whispered
something to you during lunch." Ah, lunch everyone else had shrimp and
crepes, but Jane was served knockwurst, carrots and pickles as Frances eyed
her with that mocking stare as if to say here are some cocks to suck on. 
"Then just now," she placed a hand on Jane's knee, "she told you to go sit
here." She squeezed the knee, "Didn't she?" Jane knew if she looked Claire
in the eye she would have to tell her everything, what a slut she was, how
she wanted to bury her face in her cleavage.  She looked up and Claire's
stare bored into her.  "Jane, darling," a strong hand latched onto Jane's
shoulder, the raspy voice almost seductive, as she lifted the girl from the
chair.  "You just must meet one of my best friends in the world." "We'll
talk later," Claire rose from her chair and walked over to a group by the
wall.  Jane was confronted by an Amazonian woman, her skin ebony far more
African than American.  "This, my dear, is Keisha," Frances draped her arms
up to the woman's shoulder.  "We have been dear friends ever since college.
Now she owns a gym across town.  And if I'm not mistaken is looking at the
home just behind yours." Jane looked in awe at the rock hard calves and the
rippling muscles of the six-foot woman before her.  She was dressed in an
expensive sweat suit that left little to the imagination.  Towering over
her, she rested her hands on Jane's shoulders, hazel eyes burning into
Jane's as if she looked past them all the way into her soul.  Holding her
snuggly, she kissed first one cheek then the other lingering with her lips
inches from Jane's earlobe, "I can smell your scent." Keisha really sparked
the party as everyone reenergized when she approached.  The women all
seemed to acquiesce to the black woman's station among them; even Frances
appeared cowed in Keisha's presence.  Jane sat back in her chair, still
stunned by the woman's words.  Eventually the party seemed to wind down and
Jane was filled with the premonition that it wouldn't be long now before
Frances would display her to the group.  She began to think about her
previous daydream, often while being mesmerized by Keisha's ample behind,
which appeared to always stay in proximity to Jane's view.  Jane felt
stupid and awkward just sitting there, waiting.  She noticed as several of
the women seemed to be flustered looking her way, and was appalled to
realize that she had spread her legs in the chair, exposing her bare muff
to anyone sitting on the couch.  Women began leaving in two's and three's
until all that remained were Frances, Keisha, Claire and Jane.  Keisha was
telling a wild story about a boy in the gym.  When Claire got up.  "Well,
it's been fun, but I have to get Roger's dinner started." She walked to the
door.  "Jane you coming?" Jane sat stock-still as Frances turned to Claire.
"Jane, dear," her hand touched Jane's back, "I thought you were going to
help me clean up." "Yes, I told Frances I would help." "Suits me," she
raised an eyebrow, "I was wondering what they called it these days." The
door slammed as she left.

   *******************************

   Frances was on her as soon as the door slammed.  "What the fuck did you
tell that bitch." Her nails dug into the hollow of Jane's cheek. 
"Nothing." Jane tried to pull away but was held firm.  "I didn't say
anything, but I think she smelled you on me," she started crying, "and she
noticed the way you kept touching me and..." "So I invite you over for a
party," she shook her painfully, "and all you can think about is that
smelly cunt of yours.  If you fucked this up for me, I'll beat the living
shit out of you." France's other hand reached for her right nipple and
twisted cruelly.  Jane looked over at Keisha as a new flame of lust burst
forth, but Keisha appeared bored by the whole exchange.  "You had better do
something about Claire," she let go of Jane's chin and gripped both nipples
in her talons, "because you're all mine do you understand me, cunt?  All
mine to do whatever I want." She twisted brutally and Jane let out a
whimper.  "Please," "Please what?" "Please make me cum." "Godamnit girl,"
she twisted again, "even this turns you on?  Is there no limit to your
depravity?  I bet this will turn you on to." She slapped one then the other
tit, while Jane just sat in the chair crying, lifting first one breast then
the other to accept the blow.  "Is that how you want to cum, while I beat
the shit out of you.  C'mon Keish let's beat her to death with this chair
that should get her off." Jane rose to run to the door, but as she turned,
Frances kicked her right in the cunt knocking out her wind.  Frances was
yelling something, but Keisha was holding her.  "Calm down lover," she held
Frances possessively.  "I didn't drive all the way over here for this." She
began licking her neck.  "Let's go in the bedroom and play." "But I have to
clean up." "Let the little pussy slut do it.  Isn't that what she told her
friend." "But didn't you want to try her out?" "Look, if beating don't
work, the only way to punish the bitch is not to let her cum.  Let her
clean up while she listens." Jane had gotten to her knees oblivious to the
conversation above her.  Frances grabbed her by her hair.  "Clean the place
up slut and I want everything to look brand new." Frances and Keisha walked
hand in hand into the guest bedroom, where she and Frances had been.  "And
don't you dare touch that swamp between your legs if you know what's good
for you." Jane spent the better part of an hour putting up dishes and
wiping the tables, while in the bedroom she could heart the sounds of the
two women.  Her need was excruciating after so many hours but she refrained
from touching herself down there.  There was a mirror in the bedroom and
every so often she could glimpse the ebony and ivory bodies moving on the
bed and she was tempted to just have a peek.  She inched her way to the
door sniffing the aroma from the room.  She heard giggling and a slapping
sound.  "Janey, come in here a moment." Jane was disappointed that both
women were under the covers, but the smell of sex was heady.  Jane's face
was glistening with juices as she crooked her finger.  "Come here," Jane
walked right in front of Frances inches from the finger.  "Raise your skirt
so I can look at my pussy." Jane blushed as she raised the skirt to reveal
her swollen pussy lips, sauce dripping down her legs.  Frances reached out
and cupped the lips.  "You are ready, aren't you?" she squeezed the lips,
"I said aren't you?" "Yes" "Yes what?" "Yes, mistress." "Run along home and
don't you dare touch my pussy," she dragged her finger through the lips and
tasted it.  "Mm, I want you in exactly this state tomorrow when you come
over.  My man is out of town, so get over here as soon as your hubby goes
to work and maybe we'll see if there isn't something we can do about your
little problem.  And Janey." "Yes, mistress." "I'll know if you touched
yourself, even a little," she smirked, "just like I knew you diddled
yourself sniffing my panties this morning, so don't let me down."