Copyright© 2003, 2005, 2113 by Morgan. All Rights Reserved
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The third and last of the "Kathy Carlson" stories. It begins with a woman who feels she's ugly as sin with all the curves of a straight stick. Read what happens.
Candy Kane was fretting as she awakened that morning in early October. She was scheduled to meet downtown with a couple of attorneys representing her employer, Aerospace Technologies, Inc., along with a mediator. This was the result of the sexual harassment suit she had filed against them. The fact was there was nothing to the suit; the reality was that the “sexual harassment” had been in the form of the lack of same. Candy thought she had just been ignored.
And the reality was that she had been. On the other hand, she was honest enough with herself to admit — privately — that ignoring her was the best possible behavior on the part of her coworkers: She was as prickly as a porcupine. This, in turn, largely resulted from the fact that she hated herself and for as long as she could remember had felt she was ugly as sin. The reality was that — probably as a result of an accident when she was very young — her mouth and jaw were horribly misshapen with her teeth having grown in at odd angles. She even had two pairs of teeth with one behind the other. At a time when schools were featuring self-esteem, Candy’s was in very large negative numbers.
Furthermore, she considered herself to be flat as a board. The reality was that she had a gorgeous figure, albeit with a pair of small breasts. Although they were small — sort of a B-minus cup — they were perfectly shaped with lovely little nipples that sat on areolae scarcely larger than the nipples themselves. Because she never wore a bra — never feeling the need for one — she had always totally misinterpreted the looks in her direction. She thought the men were laughing at her when in fact they were admiring her lovely body with its gorgeous little ass. At five feet nine, she was a tall girl with much of her height in a pair of perfect long legs. But Candy never realized that.
Then there was her name itself. She always thought it was the perfect name for a stripper — Candy Kane — and had even thought about stripping. Two things stopped her cold: her face, distorted by her misshapen jaw, and a figure with all the curves — she thought — of a straight stick. Nonetheless, she had investigated the possibility of silicone implants, and had actually gone to see a plastic surgeon who did such work. She was immediately turned off, though, when his receptionist — one of his earlier patients — proudly stripped off her blouse to reveal a pair of size double-D melons that, in Candy’s opinion, looked utterly ridiculous on her slender frame. While reaching that conclusion, it never occurred to Candy that her figure was far better than the girl’s. Her shoulders were broader, her buns were far nicer, and her legs were utterly magnificent. The receptionist’s legs were okay, but most of her height — five feet three — was in her torso; proportionately, her legs were quite short.
The other thing that affected Candy was the fact that she was a mechanical engineer and a very good one. In her more objective moments she realized that it was only her engineering talent that kept her employed. I would have fired my ass within the first thirty days, she admitted to herself.
Finally, there was her relationship with her parents who were now both dead. It started, she realized, with her name: She hated it and always had. Candace Kane wasn’t so bad, she admitted, but from the very beginning she had been Candy, and she hated it. Perhaps because of her strained relations with her parents things were worse than they needed to be; she was an only child born to her parents late in their lives: her mother had been 48 and her father had been 56 when she was born.
It was over parental objections that she had decided to become an engineer. Moreover, she realized that the reason for her becoming an engineer was probably because they objected. At any rate, she had gone to Cal Tech where she received her bachelor’s and master’s degrees, as well as completing all the course work for her doctorate. In fact, she had recently submitted her just-completed dissertation based on her own machine design work.
Now at age 27 she was at a bit of a loss. In spite of its name, Aerospace Technologies wasn’t an aerospace company at all. Located in Huntington Beach on the Pacific coast south of Los Angeles, it was a machine tool company. The company had been founded by a couple of engineers from McDonnell-Douglas who had developed some computer-controlled machine tools with aerospace applications. When McDonnell-Douglas wasn’t interested in pursuing their ideas, they left and founded their own company. In the intervening years, it had grown and prospered, but Candy felt it could have and should have been doing far better than it was.
Although she had never taken any business or economics courses, Candy was a brilliant young woman. She had always been bothered by the fact that accountants would report profits to the penny, but totally ignored what might have been. The reality was that Aerospace Technologies (AT) had maintained a very nice rate of growth, but in her opinion it was only a minor fraction of what the company could have done. Moreover, she intuitively understood that the competitive advantage from superior products was at its greatest when their machines were new designs. Failure to quickly exploit their product superiority only provided more time for competitors to catch up. But that’s the way it was.
Then there was AT’s reaction when she initiated her sexual harassment suit. Privately she admitted that the lawsuit was really initiated at the behest of Katherine McCarthy, her attorney. The woman had contacted her, met with her several times, and finally convinced her that she was being victimized. Moreover, Katherine had clippings reporting eight prior harassment court victories, each of which carried settlements of at least six figures, while one had crossed into seven digits.
But when the lawsuit was filed, even McCarthy was amazed at what happened next: The company had put her on a paid leave of absence. Candy was drawing full pay even though she hadn’t been near the office in more than a month. Furthermore, it had been made clear to her that the situation would continue until the issues had been resolved or until she asked to return to work. Already she had been out for six weeks, but the paychecks continued to arrive in her bank account with pleasing regularity.
Finally, she got out of bed and went into the bathroom. There was a full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, and Candy examined the reflection of her body in it. For no reason she could explain to herself, let alone to anyone else, she had been plucking her pubic hair until now she had a hairless groin except for a dense and very neat patch of curly hair above her slit. Looking upward, she grimaced as she studied her breasts for the umpteenth time. She glared at her reflection when she noticed that — as usual — her nipples were as hard as pencil erasers and fully extended. Candy didn’t know why this happened, but having erect nipples seemed to be her normal condition.
After showering and washing her hair, she towel-dried it and then followed with the electric dryer. Her hair was brown, but it had the usual collection of sun streaks through it. The streaks were in every color from brown through gold, and almost to platinum. Since she wore her hair in an urchin cut, the overall effect was breathtaking. Unfortunately, the whole effect was lost because of her misshapen mouth. Beyond that, though, had her teeth and jaw been normal, Candy would still have dismissed her physical appearance out of hand.
Finally, Candy ran a towel slowly between her legs. Although she never masturbated, she loved the feeling of the terrycloth chafing her clit, which came out from its hood to welcome its daily visitor. Although it had not been a part of her thinking at the time, the wonderful sensation had been heightened since she had plucked her pubic hair. Again she felt that wonderful sensation in her cunt as it responded to the momentary stimulation.
I wonder what a man’s cock would feel like? she wondered. Or a penis? But I guess it’s called a cock when it’s erect. As if the sight of my body could ever give a man an erection! she concluded sardonically. As she returned to her bedroom, she totally ignored the magnificent appearance of her deeply-tanned body. Another result of her leave of absence had been the fact that she could — and did — spend a lot of time at her health club. There she worked out, swam, and spent time in the tanning machine. Now she was golden all over.
Candy’s initial thought had been to dress for her meeting, but she changed her mind. She decided that, for shock effect, she would wear only well-worn Levi’s and a ragged old work shirt. The meeting was scheduled for eleven o’clock at the offices of Clifford & Jamison, the attorneys for AT. Although she had expected Katherine McCarthy to be with her, she was surprised to learn that she would be alone. Katherine had explained that she didn’t want to be there and possibly tip off her trial tactics by saying the wrong thing. Therefore, her meeting was with Sandra Harris and the mediator, Iris Kaplan.
Leaving her garden apartment, Candy went to her car. As a mechanical engineer, she kept her car in good mechanical condition, although she admitted to herself that it was on its last legs. It was so old, it was a Datsun; when it was built, that was the name Nissan was still using for its cars sold in the United States. Moreover, because of its age and diminutive size, it was not air-conditioned. In the Los Angeles heat this was something Candy missed, although she had been driving the car for so long she had become used to it.
When she arrived at the Clifford & Jamison office building, she let out a soft whistle. Clearly this was not Los Angeles’s low-rent district. Furthermore, she was grateful for the detailed instructions she had received complete with an invitation to park in space number 15 in the building’s basement garage. Locating the space, she realized that there were a number of other numbered spaces that were vacant. The puzzling factor, though, was that there were also five spaces designated for Clifford & Jamison visitors. Why am I not in one of those? she wondered.
Arriving at the 38th floor, Candy just stopped and gaped. The entry to the Clifford & Jamison offices was utterly spectacular. The doorway was highly polished cherry with the firm name in brass letters above it, along with the very dignified qualifier, Attorneys at Law, in smaller letters below the name. Candy straightened her shoulders and marched in, feeling her nipples moving against the worn fabric of her shirt as she did.
Seeing the receptionist, Candy’s first reaction was to flee. The girl sitting behind the desk was the most beautiful blue-eyed blonde she had ever seen. I wonder what I would look like with blue eyes like hers? Candy wondered. All I have are yucky gray. Again, though, Candy’s self-appraisal was wrong. Her eyes were large with small eyebrows and very long lashes. The effect was singularly striking, but like everything else regarding her appearance, if it was good, it was downplayed or totally ignored.
“Good morning,” she said to the receptionist. “Candace Kane to see Ms. Harris. I have an appointment.”
“Welcome, Miss Kane!” the girl responded enthusiastically. “The others are already here and are waiting for you in the conference room. If you will come with me... ?”
Judy Jeffries led the way to a small conference room. Opening the door, she ushered the girl in, then returned to her desk.
There were three women in the room. There was an older woman — probably in her late forties, Candy guessed — sitting on one side of the table. The mediator, Iris Kaplan, Candy thought. Sitting at the end of the table on the side closest to the door were two of the most beautiful young women Candy had ever seen.
Kathy Carlson and Sandy Harris had arisen when Judy showed Candy into the room. Sandy extended her hand and said, “Welcome, Miss Kane. I’m Sandy Harris and this is one of my partners, Kathy Carlson.” With a warm grin she added, “As you might guess from her tropic tan, Kathy has just returned from her honeymoon in Hawaii.”
Looking at Kathy Carlson, Candy realized she was just gaping. Never in her life had she encountered such beauty.
Kathy looked down her body and then at Sandy. “Partner, am I all together? Did I forget something important this morning?”
Ignoring Kathy’s comment, Sandy just took Candy’s hand in a firm grip and said, “Kathy refuses to believe how incredibly beautiful she is.” Then, while looking directly into Candy’s gray eyes she added, “She’s exactly like you in that respect.”
Candy was just stunned by the comment. When she awakened to the fact that her hand was being gripped firmly, she returned it the same way and smiled. Only then did she realize that Katherine McCarthy had essentially no grip at all; she merely touched hands saying that a firm grip was strictly a white European male construct with which she refused to go along. Nonetheless, Sandy’s firm grip felt good.
When she shook hands with Kathy Carlson, she found her grip even firmer than Sandy’s. “You are the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth,” Candy breathed. Looking deeply into Kathy’s brown eyes she realized that much of her beauty was within. It was a new and deeply disturbing thought.
The meeting began with Iris Kaplan explaining that her rôle was to prevent Candy from being browbeaten by the attorneys and to try to work out some common ground if possible.
As they began to chat — and Candy realized that was exactly what was happening — she noted for the first time that neither of the lawyers had so much as a piece of paper with her. The only paper was a pad in front of Ms. Kaplan.
“It’s ‘miss’,” Sandy interrupted. “I haven’t hogtied Jack Benson yet, and the way I’m going, it doesn’t look like I ever will.”
“I beg your pardon?” Candy responded. “I don’t understand.”
“Kathy does,” Sandy said. “Are you familiar with the line, ‘Why buy the cow if the milk is free’?”
Candy slowly nodded her head.
“Well,” Sandy continued with a lovely grin, “not only is my ‘milk’ free, I even help pay for it by splitting expenses. Jack has complete access to my body at all times.” Then with a lovely smile she added, “And, I’m delighted to say, he’s constantly taking advantage of his opportunities, too. To my incredible joy!” Then with a grin she turned to Kathy and said, “By the way, partner, you may not have noticed, but I can actually get my thighs back together again. In spite of my advancing years, I’m still in great shape for fucking.”
“Advancing years!” Candy yelped. “What are you talking about? You can’t be over 25!”
“We’ve got to keep her, Kath!” Sandy exclaimed. “I can’t remember when I’ve ever been so flattered.” To Candy: “Add ten years plus and you’re closer.” Then she looked thoughtful as she murmured, “I wonder where Harriet Dobbs is, anyway? That bitch damn near ruined my life permanently.”
While speaking, Sandy had been studying Candy closely. Then she turned to Ms. Kaplan and asked for a blank sheet of paper. The woman tore one from her pad and gave it to Sandy with a puzzled expression on her face. This meeting was like no other of its type that Iris had ever seen or heard of, and she had been mediating for years. Sandy took the paper, folded it lengthwise, then lengthwise again. The folded paper, removed from a legal-size pad, was now a bit more than two inches wide by 14 inches long.
Moving closer to where Candy was sitting, she held the paper across the girl’s mouth. “What do you think, partner?” she asked. Being held the way it was, the paper masked Candy’s mouth and jaw while revealing everything else.
“Wow! is what I think,” Kathy replied. “This girl is unbelievably beautiful.” Then to Candy she said, “Wouldn’t you like to have your teeth fixed? What Sandy just did shows how gorgeous you can be with nice teeth. What do you think?”
“I guess I wouldn’t be as ugly as I am,” Candy replied. “But there are two problems...”
“Which are... ?” Kathy prompted.
“First, the lowest price ever quoted to me was in thousands of dollars ... And the dentist quoting that price wasn’t very good. Second, there’s still the matter of my figure ... or lack of one. Mrs. Carlson, I have all the curves of a straight stick!”
“Oh?” Kathy asked quizzically. To Iris Kaplan she said, “I don’t think it would offend anyone too much if Miss Kane stripped, do you?”
Iris just slowly shook her head. The meeting was continuing as the strangest one of its type she had ever heard of let alone participated in.
“Would you strip, please?” Kathy asked.
“Only if you and Miss Harris do, too,” Candy retorted.
“That’s easy enough to do,” Kathy responded. In moments, both she and Sandy were bare.
Feeling panicked, Candy’s brain had stopped working. When she was functioning again she realized that the two women’s bodies were utterly exquisite. Moving like a zombie, she stripped off her shirt and then shed her Levi’s and bikini at the same time. Since she was only wearing moccasins, she stepped out of them and then out of her pants now sitting in a little pile on the floor. With her eyes wide, she slowly straightened up. Seeing the perfect posture of the two women standing opposite, she pulled her shoulders back, too, and stood up straight. “See what I mean? A stick.”
Taking the girl’s comment as an invitation, Kathy Carlson accepted it. Very slowly she walked around Candy, studying her body as she did. Gently, she moved her away from the table so she could get a good look from all angles.
Finally, she pronounced, “Lady, you are utterly fantastic!” Then shaking her head in feigned sadness she added, “If my husband, Ken, were here, he wouldn’t even see me. All he could see would be you!”
Although she had initially been petrified, by now Candy had relaxed enough to function again. “Get serious!” she exclaimed. “Mrs. Carlson, you are the most beautiful creature God ever created.” Having spoken, she looked more closely at Kathy and added, “But as beautiful as you are on the outside, that’s just a minor fraction of the total, isn’t it? Your beauty within just shines from your eyes and floods out the place!”
“See, partner?” Sandy Harris exclaimed. “We’ve been telling you that for months, but you just don’t listen ... No! That’s wrong. You do listen. You just refuse to believe. Well, partner, you’ve just heard it again from a young woman who has just met you for the first time. She doesn’t know anything about you, but she does know what she sees. And what she sees is incredible beauty.”
“Enough of this,” Kathy declared. Turning to Iris Kaplan she said, “Iris, you’re the professional mediator. What do you think of Miss Kane’s body? It’s clear that my partner and I think she’s incredible. Miss Kane thinks she’s a stick. As the mediator, what do you think?”
Improbably, Iris showed a very youthful grin and replied, “Miss Kane, I have very bad news for you. As a mediator, I normally find myself trying to split the difference between opposing parties. But I’m afraid I’ll have to make an exception in this case and side with opposing counsel. Candace Kane, your body is stunningly beautiful, and if your teeth could be fixed you would be one of the world’s great beauties.”
Candy was so stunned by the comment, she was speechless.
“Okay, that’s settled,” Kathy said. Still naked — and apparently totally unaware of the fact — she padded over to the corner where a telephone sat and proceeded to make a series of calls.
As she did, Sandy just shook her head at Kathy while she dressed and indicated to Candy that she could, too. With Kathy still on the phone, Sandy picked up Kathy’s clothes from the floor and deposited them in a heap on top of the telephone.
Without a break in her conversation, Kathy proceeded to dress. Finally, hanging up the instrument she said to Candy, “You have an appointment with Dr. Donald Matthews at three-thirty this afternoon. Does that fit with your schedule?”
Candy was stunned. In her research regarding her teeth, she had encountered Dr. Matthews’ name. He was the finest oral surgeon in California and one of the very finest in the world at jaw reconstruction. Unfortunately, she had also learned that his fee for a single tooth rivaled her annual gross income. When she said as much, Kathy merely said that it was all taken care of.
“Taken care of?” she exclaimed. “What on earth does that mean?”
“It means it’s taken care of,” Kathy repeated. Then she said, “Since it’s almost noon, and Dr. Matthews is downtown, I hope you’ll join us for lunch.” Then with a grimace she added, “I’m cooking, unfortunately.”
“We eat!” Sandy nearly shouted. To Candy she added, “Kathy Carlson is the finest cook west of the Mississippi, anyway, and possibly the finest cook in the nation. Miss Kane, you really lucked out.”
When she extended the invitation to Iris Kaplan, the woman begged off, having a prior engagement.
The three adjourned into the firm’s large conference room. Kathy proceeded to open up a wall revealing a fully equipped restaurant-scaled kitchen. Minutes later, others began to appear. Candy was introduced first to Ginger Jamison Conrad, then to Judy Morris, and finally to Joan Frederick.
When Joan looked like she was about to cry, Ginger said, “Okay, Joan, I give up. You can wear your uniform while you take drink orders.”
The lovely girl grinned and a moment later had stripped bare. Taking a tiny lace apron from the closet, she carefully put it on — it didn’t come close to reaching her bare crotch — and began to take drink orders. When Kathy announced they were having the classic French meal, steak frites, Joan stopped and just served a lovely dry sherry to everyone, explaining that wine would be served with lunch.
At that point Ali Clifford came into the room. Looking at her, Candy was utterly stunned. Never in her life had she seen such a beautiful woman. Her misshapen jaw was still hanging open when Ali came up to her. “Wouldn’t you feel better with your mouth closed?” Ali asked with a warm grin.
“What is this place?” asked the utterly bewildered Candy. “Never in my life have I encountered a group of such unbelievably gorgeous women. What is this? A law firm or the training ground for Miss America candidates?”
At her comment, Ali just cutely giggled. “Don’t hold us against us, please, Miss Kane.”
The two women chatted and then took seats at the large table in the center of the room. Candy found herself still talking to Ali, and, to her utter amazement, found herself telling the woman her life story.
“You are going to be utterly beautiful, Candy Kane,” Ali said finally. “Now let’s eat. We really don’t want Kathy’s food to get cold.”
Joan Frederick continued with her serving, and when everyone was served began to pour the wine, a chateau-bottled Bordeaux from a superb year. Candy recognized it as costing hundreds of dollars a bottle.
The lunch was utterly superb. When they were finished, she went with Kathy Carlson to her office where the two women just chatted. Finally Kathy said, “The teeth aren’t your only problem, are they?”
“No,” Candy conceded, “there’s my name, too.” Then she proceeded to tell Kathy how she had always hated it and repeated her line that Candy Kane would be a fine name for a stripper, but that was about it.
Kathy looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “So why don’t you just change it? Do you have a problem with Dacey or Dace?”
“Dacey Kane,” Candy mused. Then with a shake of her head she said, “Oh what the hell ... It’s not great but it’s a helluva lot better than Candy.” With a grin she concluded, “Okay. Now I’m Dacey.”
Kathy grinned back and changed the subject. “Now that that’s out of the way, we can handle some paperwork.” With that she passed over some forms each of which had small tabs indicating where Dacey was to sign. With that concluded, Kathy slipped a couple of the papers into a leather folder and passed it to Dacey along with two sets of car keys.
“What on earth are these?” the girl exclaimed. She had just noticed that the keys were two sets for a BMW.
Kathy reddened slightly and explained, “I’m awfully sorry, Miss Kane, but I guess our address gets to us sometimes. The fact is we can be awful snobs. Anyway, Ali got a call from the building manager about an old Datsun parked in our space #15. He had had it towed away, since he knew no client of Clifford & Jamison would be seen dead in a piece of junk like that.”
With a sad shake of her head, Kathy continued, “It was too late for Ali to save it. So anyway, Clifford & Jamison owes you a car. Those keys are for a BMW M-6. I hope you can make do.”
“An... M-6?” she gasped.
Kathy just nodded.
“My God! The total value of that piece of junk I drove down in wouldn’t pay for one of its ashtrays! What are you all doing to me?”
With a warm smile Kathy replied, “Well, I guess what you’re saying is that the trade is acceptable to you? You won’t sue us for mental anguish or something like that?”
“I wasn’t going to,” Dacey conceded with her eyes now dancing, “but I think I will. For openers, I’ll have to camp in the lobby until about three in the morning when traffic will be light enough for me to dare take it out on the street. Then there’s its power...” She snapped her fingers and said, “No, that might not be a problem after all. I just won’t ever shift out of first gear. I’m certain that its top speed in first gear with its five-speed gearbox is greater than my old car’s top speed in fourth going downhill.” With a determined nod she repeated, “That’s it. I’ll just keep it in first all the time.”
At this point Dacey was bubbling over with excitement. The fact of the matter was that she had been looking at used BMWs with the thought of buying one. But the idea of a new one — let alone an M-series, least of all the top-of-the-line M-6 — had never crossed her mind.
With a shake of her head she returned to the present and asked, “But why? What are the folks at Aerospace Tech thinking about? Why?” she repeated.
“As far as the folks at AT are concerned, I don’t have the first foggy clue. The car — as I just explained — was to make up for our own actions.”
Hearing that, Dace just rolled her eyes and murmured, “Yeah, sure...”
“As for the rest, it has nothing to do with AT, either. We’re also the attorneys for the William Harrison Clifford Foundation, and the Foundation has been looking at some new things to do with its money. One of them involves making physical repairs on people whose appearance holds them back. So, Dace,” Kathy concluded, “you’re our first experiment in that direction.”
When Dacey heard the name she mentally started to make connections. “William H. Clifford ... Isn’t he one of the richest men in the world?”
Kathy just nodded once.
“And a few months ago ... I saw a tiny squib in the legal notices: William H. Clifford had married Ali McGrath.” Her eyes widened as the pieces came together. “That gorgeous young blonde is Allison McGrath Clifford, isn’t she? She’s Bill Clifford’s wife!”
“And executive director of the Foundation,” Kathy added. “Anyway, it’s all approved and fully funded.”
With that it was time to head over to Dr. Matthews’ office.