Chapter 39

"School is such a fucking drag." Connie whined as they entered the school leaving behind the angry honks of parents cutting in and out to drop off their kids at school.

"Yeah, like I know. It's just not fucking fair that Paul gets to stay home from school," Stephanie sternly agreed. The Monday morning after the cookout cum orgy found them less enthusiastic than ever to attend school. The girls wore matching pink mini-skirts that left only breathing room between the hems and their bare pussies. Their tops left a circle of tanned flesh above the skirts, with their not as yet pierced belly buttons in the center, and also revealed the lack of support for their breasts, which bounced with every step. Sex dripped from every inch of their clothing; the boys in the school couldn't stop looking, and the girls couldn't stop hating them.

Little Pete walked between them down the raucous hall to the girls' lockers. The young boy had been the subject of some galactic roll of the dice, and he crapped out on height, but rolled seven on dick size. None of the girls at school, but Connie and Stephanie, knew about the load he carried around in his pants. Little Pete played with high school girls who had stumbled on the secret when a younger brother told an older sister what he had seen in the showers on the first day of gym. The word spread quickly, and Pete soon was a sought after after-school amusement for the much older girls. Connie and Stephanie had pulled him off the street corner where the older girls cruised when they needed a boy toy to replace their impotent, steroid-using boy friends.

Sammi and Samman who carried the girls' backpacks, in addition to their own, followed them. The boys were content to do the girls' bidding, and the girls are happy to order them about. The boys came under the control of the rings when Samman tried to assault Connie, who found the ring she wore had a defensive capability that left the boy in her power. The girls used their rings to bring Sammi under control also. Now they had willing slaves, but the girls weren't sure exactly what to do with them.

Sammi and Samman were still in shock from their mother's news this morning that their older brother Jamal, their father and uncle had flown off to join the jihad. They had protested to their mother that they were also old enough to go off to kill the enemies of Islam, but she ordered them to school, and to keep silent about the departure of their brave soldiers. They had run into Connie and Stephanie on the walk to school and obediently fell into step with the girls who held such control over them.

"I tried to get Paul to change his mind this morning, but he said I had to go. I even gave him a blowjob at breakfast." She subconsciously licked her lips.

"Well, if you find something that works, let me know. I didn't get any homework done over the weekend, and the teachers are going to rag my ass over it."

Sammi interrupted Stephanie's complaining. "Miss Stephanie, would you please call on me to do your homework in the future. It pains me to see you troubled over something I could so easily do for you."

"Sammi, how sweet, see me after school today, and I'll give you a list."

"Thank you, Miss Stephanie." She kissed him on the cheek and the boy beamed.

Stephanie relied, "Yeah, don't forget we need you to carry our stuff to volleyball practice after school."

"Yes, Miss." The twin brothers scooted off quickly pleased to find themselves useful to their new girlfriends.

Pete waited as the girls gathered their stuff. Connie looked at him wondering why he was still there, "Well?"

"I got an instant message this morning from Julie Wagner, you know, Beth's friend from the volleyball team, she was wondering if I could come over after school to help her."

Stephanie laughed, "Yeah, help her cum three or four times." She looked at Connie, who shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, Pete, go have fun. Maybe if you're lucky, she might have one of her friends there too."

Pete just smiled and walked away. Pete smiled a lot.

"We've got to convince Paul that we should be home schooled too." Connie said as the girls walked to their first hour English class.

"Yeah, we wouldn't have to get up so early, and the homework would be more fun." Stephanie had arrived home late last night, and her mother hadn't been happy. Normally, Monica Miller trusted her daughter to Sarah Davis' supervision, but she had sensed something had changed recently. Stephanie's frazzled mom had been without a man so long she did not pick up on the pungent odor of sperm and pussy that her daughter gave off.

"I don't know," Connie replied, "He seems pretty happy staying home and fucking mom and Carol. We might get in the way of his schooling." The sarcasm dripped from her voice.

Stephanie giggled, "I hope so."

Connie glared at her. "Yeah, right, how much attention have we gotten from Paul lately. Did he fuck you last night?"

Stephanie nodded her head, "Near the end of the evening, after he finished with Anna for the third time. I thought boys were supposed to like young pussy. Your brother can't seem to keep his dick out of Anna."

"I just got a quickie. I get very nervous when Paul ignores me. It's like a need I have." Connie rubbed the top of her skirt as if pantomiming masturbating.

Stephanie slipped her arm around Connie, "I know, I like getting scratched by your father, but I need Paul to really ease my pain."

Connie giggled. "Yeah, I know... God, I'm horny."

"Me too! If I didn't think Paul would find out, I would say we take one of the boys here and find some spot for him to fuck us."

"To be honest I want him to fuck my cunt, I don't care what spot you need fucked." Connie giggled at her joke.

Stephanie stuck out her tongue. Connie was temped to suck on it, but the hall was crowded and lezzing out in the hallway could get you talked about. It also could also get you laid, Connie thought.

Andrea Baker, the captain of the cheerleaders, passed by and looked at the pair and whispered loudly, "Sluts."

Connie's eyes flashed at the remark. After a quick glance at Stephanie to confirm that she also heard the slur, Connie stepped out and took a position to the right of Andrea while Stephanie slid to her left side.

Andrea looked at them as if they were insects. "What?" Her impatience was evident. Eight grade popular girls didn't chat in the hallway with seventh-grade girls who dressed like whores.

Connie wrapped her fingers around Andrea's wrist. The older girl at first tried to yank back, but stopped. In a low voice Connie growled, "What did you say?"

Andrea thought about lying until warmth oozed up her arm and flooded her body. Her blue eyes became moist, and Stephanie took her other wrist. The heat surged into her from Stephanie's touch to meet the opposing flow in her middle; the pleasure washing off the inside of her skin like milk in half-empty carton. She glanced back and forth between the girls she had so casually insulted terrified at the heat burning inside of her.

"I said, you were sluts, but I was wrong, and I apologize." She whispered as she began to pant from the warmth converging inside her panties.

Connie rubbed her arm. "You think we're sluts! I think to be a slut you would have to get turned on by two girls touching you in a hallway. Wouldn't you?"

Andrea nodded and knew that she was going to cum from the girls' touch.

Stephanie whispered, "So, I think that would make you a slut, because you're going to cum, aren't you?"

Andrea quivered, her eyes were agape and her chest began to heave. She knew her boyfriend had never turned her on this much. The cheerleader's eyes showed fear at the sexual energies awake in her. She started to sweat.

Connie demanded, "So what does that make you, Andrea?"

The two girls held her wrists tightly, and she whispered, "A slut." The arousal grew with her admission. Her panties were a sodden mass that threatened to leak through her cheerleader bottoms. She trembled as her eyes rolled back in her head.

Stephanie leaned in closely, "Whose slut?"

Andrea's azure eyes frantically darted between the girls, "Your slut. Both of you."

Connie grinned at her. "Yes, you are our slut." She was amazed at the power she now felt when she used her ring. I'm learning how to do this, it's happening quicker and the effect is greater each time I do this.

Stephanie giggled, "Yes, you are."

Andrea felt herself on the verge of an orgasm of enormous power. She couldn't believe she wasn't giving off sparks; twisting around to see if someone walking by would notice her whimpering and ask what was wrong.

Connie ordered, "You're going to ask us to sit with you at lunch today."

Andrea nodded as she accepted her order not caring what her friends would think.

"You will treat us as if we were your best friends."

She nodded again; thinking, any one who can make me feel like this is welcome not matter how bitchy my friends will get.

"Let's make her cum, Steph." Her friend grinned and nodded. "You can't move, Andrea."

Andrea's body froze, but the sexual energy kept climbing, bouncing, oscillating dragging her up a mountainside to the point on the cliff where she would perform her high dive. The ring wearers shielded Andrea's body from view of the passing students. To them it looked as if the three were in an intimate conversation. Stephanie released her wrist and rubbed her ring over the frozen girl's nipple. Andrea dove off the cliff. No one realized the intensity of her climax as Connie's command had frozen her. Andrea continued to cum as Stephanie stroked her hard nipple.

"You can move now." Stephanie said, and to deliver the final nail into Andrea's social status, "Wet your pants."

At the peak of her orgasm, Andrea moaned and began to pee in her panties. Connie and Stephanie stepped back in pretended horror as the captain of the cheerleaders pissed her pants to the point where the yellow flow was obvious as it ran down her tanned legs and spread over the floor. She stood frozen in the hallway as she rode out the end of the most powerful climax she would ever have, totally ignorant of the mess she was making on the hallway floor. As her climax faded her horror was complete. Feeling the warm flow on her legs she moved her eyes to look down to see the spreading, shimmering pool, her sneakers islands in the ocean of yellow. She looked at the two young girls as they smiled at her. She couldn't stop peeing and her efforts to clamp her thighs together to stop the warm flow failed.

"My God Andrea, you're pissing on the floor. What's wrong with you?" Connie shouted and darted backward to allow all those passing in the hall to watch the captain of the cheerleaders flood the tile floor with a yellow lake.

Andrea looked down and screamed at the yellow pool surrounding her legs. Connie yelled, "Oh, Andrea, get the fuck out of here and change your clothes."

Stephanie giggled, "Yeah, get a fucking diaper."

The humiliated girl ran, almost slipping on the wet floor. A chorus of laughter followed her down the hallway.

Connie and Stephanie joined the crowd enjoying the popular girl's humiliation. Stephanie informed everyone, "I can't believe it. She just started peeing. She almost got some on me. What a sicko!"

The girls headed off to their first hour class to leave a confused custodian at the scene to clean up Andrea's mess. The excitement of their little caper wore off quickly though. Three hours of classes left the girls bored and looking for some fun at lunch.

Connie reminded Stephanie, "We get to eat with the cheerleaders today. I'm going to love this."

Her fingers pried his flesh like talons. He thrived on the pain she subjected him too during his weekly massage. Only her strong fingers could penetrate the three hundred pounds of flesh he carried. Moe "The Pro" Anastasia lay on the steel table set up in his office every week.

The Korean woman, Mi Ling, had rubbed him down every Sunday evening for thirty years. Moe's wife knew about Mi Ling, but she never mentioned her. She said something once about the woman he kept in a Manhattan condo, but only once. She learned during her hospital stay that Moe loved Mi Ling far more than he did her, and that Mi Ling was not to be discussed. Moe had sired more children by her than his wife. Mi Ling's six children were all top students and the older ones enjoyed college educations completely paid for by Moe. Mi Ling's children respected him, addressed him as father, and called him frequently to tell of their successes. Their oldest son had just passed the bar and now worked for Moe. John was the only person who worked for him that he trusted. The two daughters by his wife were whores, and the only son she could manage was a faggot.

He kept his drunken wife happy with a platinum American Express card and a stud with a ten-inch cock that reported back to him on his wife's activities. At sixty, Moe's life was sharply divided between the euphoria of Mi Ling and the crap that was the rest of his life...

The four-foot ten-inch Mi climbed on his back and straddled his broad body. Wearing a gold-brocade kimono over her nude body she settled her warm bottom on his and went to work on his lower back. "Moe," she said, "you are doing well losing weight." She had badgered him into a diet three months ago and he had dropped forty pounds already.

"It's your constant bitching, Mi." She giggled and slapped the back of his head.

"Yeah, I'm your favorite bitch, who loves you, and doesn't want you dying of a heart attack." Her fingers found the underlying muscle and pressed out the tightness.

"I know, I feel better already," he did, and knew without her his life would be empty. She had come into his life when he had just turned thirty as the invisible woman who cleaned his office after hours. While he worked late she would come in and quietly clean up. She never said a word. For weeks he wondered if she spoke English. He came to spend the time she cleaned his office watching her while pretending to work, seeing how gracefully she moved. He was having a bad time with the bitch his father made him marry. The constant carping at home contrasted with the quiet efficiency his little janitor displayed. He worked later more often and his business responsibilities thrived.

After a month of this, he asked her name. She smiled and said, "Mi Ling." He thought it a poem of two syllables. She said she thought "Moe" sounded Korean. He found her English to be good; she had studied in Korea before coming to the United States the year before when she was eighteen. Each week their conversations became longer and he realized she was very intelligent, even wise. After six months, he realized that he was deeply in love with the young Asian woman. He also realized that Catholic made men in line for the throne of the family organization don't divorce their wives to marry a "yellow" wife.

He worked late every Friday night. His father, Tony Anastasia, the boss, attributed this to a dedication to work and an avoidance of the sin that brought down many of his fellow Mafia members who spent their free time in one of the several strip clubs Tony owned. Big Tony had no idea that his married son was having sex with the cleaning woman in his office. That's how Tony would have looked at it and not minded. It was completely fine for Moe to fuck the office help. After all, that's what they were there for. Tony fucked the seventeen-year-old Somali honey that cleaned his office every week.

The difference was that Moe and Mi were in love. Moe bought Mi a condo near the office, and Moe only went home once or twice a week. Inside of three months, Mi was pregnant, and Moe was thrilled. They named their first child, John. They compromised on a name that wasn't Korean or Italian; they picked a very Protestant name.

Over the next ten years, five more children followed and a move to a bigger condo to handle them all. Mi raised them strictly; they loved their father and never asked about his absences from their home one or two nights a week. Three boys and three girls, each girl a beauty like her mother. All studied hard and excelled in school.

Moe knew that without Mi and their children he would have put a bullet through his head before he had turned forty. She started giving him a massage every week shortly after they made love on his desk for the first time. She had never missed a week in almost thirty years. He fondly remembered each time her giant stomach, filled with one of his children, rubbed him as she pried out his tensions. He loved the jerky movements transmitted through her bloated belly into his back as the child kicked and moved.

He always reminisced as she relaxed him. Moe's greatest unfulfilled wish in a life full of wealth and power was that he hadn't divorced his bitch of a wife and married Mi. Big Tony took Catholicism seriously-no divorce. Tony had told him many times that he couldn't divorce his wife, especially to marry a Korean cleaning woman.

As Moe's massage came to an end, Mi caressed him; her steel fingers turned to velvet, and began a slow arousal that would end in their coupling on the table. She lifted off him and slapped his ass, the signal to turn over. She giggled when his erection came into view. Mi never failed to arouse him. His hunger was as strong as when he first entered her thirty years ago.

Mi cast off her kimono and Moe whistled at her fifty year old body. She settled onto his hardness. She laughed and said, "You still find me attractive, after all these years, Moe."

"Mi, if you had a magic mirror you would have grown tired of hearing you are the fairest in the land."

She swallowed him up. "I think not, but I love hearing you tell me I am beautiful."

His lust surged through his body. She began a gentle rocking motion on him, squeezing his cock in pulses. She learned early on that she could make him cry for joy when she did this. They formed a single body as she rode him slowly. Her small breasts, drooping after feeding six hungry mouths, swayed slowly. His fingers took the nipples and softly squeezed. He knew when to increase the pressure as she approached her orgasm. They knew each other perfectly, rarely speaking as they coupled, knowing on a telepathic level what the other was thinking and feeling.

Her breathing became audible, her back arched, and she moaned in a low plaintive tone that made him shiver. Then Mi's body froze, and she climaxed on him. He stopped moving; she liked to recover before going on, and he watched her pleasure flow through her. He knew then he would move on the casino deal. Moe Green's casino was in play, and he wanted it. He had to get out of Big Tony's shadow, and move Mi Ling out of the shadow of his father and wife. His wife was going to sign divorce papers if he had to put a gun to her head and to the head of her asshole lawyer. He had a huge bank account built up by years of Mi Ling's careful stewardship and could swing the casino deal with some friends pitching in a small share.