Chapter 27: Marcie Learns She’s Submissive

It was a typical Floridian afternoon, 97 degrees and humid, humid, humid. The air conditioner in Mark’s car helped but the air itself was almost suffocating. But, as he recalled the previous night with Marcie, the unrelenting heat didn’t Marker, nor did the bumper to bumper traffic he found himself in.

“So, does this mean we’re actually going out now?” He had asked, and Marcie had answered: Do you want me to be your girlfriend or just a good fuck? You wanna be my Sugar Daddy? He smiled to himself remembering the expression on her face. It had answered his question even more so than her sugar daddy reference.

He realized he’d been smiling at the attractive blonde in the Corvette idling next to him and now she’d returned the smile. He was hard, had been hard most of the day now. He’d fought off the temptation to jerk off repeatedly, knowing that they’d be getting together before she had to start playing at the Supper club around nine that night.

Did the blonde in the corvette sense his arousal? Did she think he lusted after her? And was she entertaining a quickie with him before going home? He had read somewhere that a man’s testosterone could be read or sensed by women and they sent out a secret scent of their own that the man absorbed before they actually entered into the mating process.

Traffic began to move, and with it both his car and the blonde’s. Two blocks on Mark turned right and the blonde continued on, but she had given him a farewell wave as he turned off.

He walked into his office, a fashionable building that whispered success in its glass front and marbled lobby. His business was located on the fourth floor at the end of a long, carpeted corridor, next to that of one of Chastain’s higher priced law firms. The glass doors simply read: Mark Newlin, Architect. The door opened to a small anteroom tastefully furnished in grays and greens, with a brown leather sofa and two matching chairs. There were several potted plants that looked artificial, but were in fact, real. A bell chimed when anyone entered the anteroom, and one of Mark’s three employees would open the office door to greet whoever it was as they had no receptionist. Through the only door was his office, gray and green comprised the color scheme here too, but with the couch in this area having lighter tanned leather. There was plenty of light, from both overhead lighting and the large windows that seemed to surround the drafting tables – four in all—that filled the center of the room.

He called Marcie minutes after arriving at his office. She answered on the fourth ring; her voice was husky with sleep.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No ... no I am in bed, but just being lazy and ... and thinking about last night.”

“Me too, that’s partly why I called.”

“Ohhh, that’s sweet!” He heard her moving about.

“I wanted to say ... to tell you how much I enjoyed...” He stopped, hearing her giggle.

“What?”

“I love hearing your voice first thing in the morning.”

“Me too,” He said and then with a rush, “I’ve had an erection ever since I woke up. I...”

“I know just where to put it too. Can you get over here?”

“I can’t. I would have driven straight over but there’s a client ... a potentially big client coming in for lunch and I really have to prepare for him.”

He heard Marcie draw in her breath.

“Marcie, are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“Mmmm, and what do you think I’m doing? Um, if it helps, think along nasty things.”

“You’re masturbating...” He said and gripped his own hardened cock.

“Mmmm, and the devil made me do it. You being the devil, Daddy!”

“I’d join you, but there are people all around me; Um, just ... ugh, cum for me baby!”

He made certain his voice was low enough so that only Marcie could hear him. “Do you hear me? I said cum for me!”

“OHHHH, DADDY!” she yelled as she climaxed. “Sooooo fuckin’ good. Daddy! Soooo fuckin’ good!”

Then she ended the conversation by hanging up on him.

Mark put down the phone and walked on unsteady legs to the men’s room, found all the stalls empty, selected on and took his penis out and jerked off, spewing his seed into the water beneath him moments later. He cleaned himself up with toilet paper and then sat down to make certain he was calm enough to confront his employees and his luncheon companion. Try as he might, he could not get the image of Marcie masturbating while talking to him on the phone out of his mind.

Aniah and Marcie were discussing two separate things. One was a blog that the teen had convinced Marcie she should write. “It will help you in soooo many ways,” the sluttish teen said over and over and over. The second Marker had to do with Aniah’s sluttish ways, and more to the point, how often she was fucking several guys at once.

“I like having two cocks in me at the same time. and it helps if I jerk another guy or two off to get them ready to replace the ones inside me.”

“So you’re a cum slut,” Marcie said.

“Maybe I am, so what?”

“Do you use protection?”

“Yeah, sure I do. I take the pill religiously.”

“What about STD’s?”

“Oh, the guys are clean, no worries there,” Aniah said self-assuredly.

“And you know this how?” Marcie asked doubtfully.

“They tole me I was the only bitch they were fuckin’, that’s how!”

“Men are natural born liars, Aniah.”

“Well they wouldn’t. We got a good thing going.”

“A word of advice from a woman who knows; you can see a gorgeous woman walking down the street. She’s got it all, tits, ass, great legs and a movie star’s face. You think wow, that’s some piece of ass. And I can promise you, some guy is already tired of fucking her.”

“Go on!”

“I kid you not! That’s why every woman you know or ever will know worries constantly about their man. They know it, and they dread it, but it’s true.”

“Well, not my guys!” Aniah protested. “Um, let’s talk about your blog. How’s it going?”

Marcie accepted the girl’s reluctance to admit what she was doing on an almost daily basis was dangerous and would almost certainly result in her contracting some form of STD, or even pregnant. But as head strong as Aniah was there was little more that she could do to sway her to be more careful.

Marcie reached into her handbag and pulled out several pages and handed them over to Aniah.

“Be honest, what do you think?”

Aniah had a trait that Marcie had known about for some time in that she pursed her lips a certain way that caused her nose to twitch ever so slightly. She had never told her about it because it gave her an insight as to what the girl was thinking without her knowing.

Aniah shuffled through the pages then smiled while pursing her lips in the give-a-way tell and said: “It’s great!”

“Really?”

“No, yes, it’s really good.”

“You don’t like it.”

“No, Marcie ... I do...”

Her pause left the ‘but’ unspoken, yet hanging in the air. “Then tell me, Aniah!”

Aniah tried to shrink away, found she couldn’t, and childishly blurted: “I thought it would be more about me--- about you and me.”

“Aniah, you know I can’t write about us. It would be an admission of a crime. Now c’mon, you know that. Your parents would have me arrested as soon as they learned about the blog. I’d get 20 years for god’s sake!”

“But nobody’s gonna read it!”

“Then why am I writing it?”

“People will read it!” Aniah said pouting sulkily.

“Then you’ve proven my point. I write about us and people will read it and then there will be repercussions.

“But I’d deny it!” Aniah whined.

“But my blog admits it. You are underage. I don’t care if you deny it all day long. Your parents can file charges and since I’m all but admitting it on the blog, off I go for 20 long years. Sorry Aniah I can’t do it. Now ask me if I love you, and I’ll smother you with loving kisses and caresses. You know how I feel about you.”

It was then that the truth finally emerged from the teenager’s mouth.

“You slept with him last night. I crept out of my room and listened at your door. He fucked you. You fucked him--and you really, really enjoyed it!”

That angered Marcie and she let fly her own rebuttal. “But it’s all right for you to pull a train every afternoon with God knows how many boys from the next block. Not caring if they use protection, not caring if they knock you up because it feels good to have several cocks banging you at the same fucking time!”

Aniah went white at Marcie’s unexpected outburst.

But Marcie wasn’t finished. “I can have a boyfriend and a girlfriend, Aniah. No—no, don’t go sulky on me. You’re doing it with those boys. Are you saying I can’t? Do you think you own me?”

Aniah blanched at her words. “No,” she said weakly.

“Damn right! So shut your hole when it comes to Mark. Yeah that’s his name, and I intend to see more of him. You can like it or not. I do hope you accept him in my life, Aniah. It doesn’t mean I’m dumping you. I’m not. But I am taking a different direction with my life.”

Marcie paused to take a deep breath, decided to try a different direction with the angst-ridden teenager.

“But all we did together yesterday was have coffee and I did mention that ... I mean, I can’t really just write a blog about you and me having coffee because nobody will read it.”

“I s’pose.”

“What were you expecting? What did you think I’d write about you?”

“Dunno,” Aniah replied, her bottom lip pouting sulkily.

Marcie just stared at her, waiting her out, knowing that if she remained silent long enough that Aniah would
eventually spit it out.

Silence.

Silence.

A huge sigh and... “I thought that you might like to write about some of the stuff we’ve done; you know, in the past.”

Aaaahhh.

And so Marcie painstakingly took the troubled teen through all the reasons again, only this time she had an arm around the girl, and kissed her as she slowly went over the salient reasons for leaving their sexual adventures out of the blog. She closed with: “and if I went there, then I’d have to mention your almost gangbangs with the guys. Understand?”

Aniah nodded as a tear rolled down her cheek quickly followed by another and then another. “I think I’m pregnant,” Aniah said.

Marcie wasted no time in getting Aniah a pregnancy test and ascertained the pregnancy; the what the fuck do we do now, followed. The main dilemma was whether to tell Aniah’s parents or not; and if not, then whether to abort or not?

She broached her friend and boss’s wife, Gerry, and put the questions to her.

“Damn, Marcie, you’ve really got yourself into some deep shit this time,” she exclaimed. “Okay, what does the girl say about it?”

“Aniah? Well she’s beside herself.”

“Hey, she’s the one that spread her legs. She doesn’t have any idea who the father is. She’s the one that regardless of her age needs to shoulder some of the responsibility. And first she has to swear that she wants the abortion. If she wants one.”

“She has,” Marcie said, choking out the words.

“Get her to sign a statement to that effect. Um, also add that she doesn’t want her parents to know.”

“I don’t understand. She loves me, she wouldn’t...”

“Shut up, Marcie! She’s a kid. She’s underage. If her parents find out somehow, I don’t care how, but if they find out it’s YOU they’re coming after!”

“But a statement won’t mean anything!”

“It’s better than nothing. It shows that you tried reasoning with her and perhaps, and it’s just a perhaps ... perhaps they will cut you some slack because of it if you’re accused of fucking around with a minor. I should add that it’s also for my own protection and Milt’s too. Remember we had sex with the little minx too.”

“So after that I take her to my gynecologist and...”

“NO! You don’t bring her there. I have a name for you. He’s very good and won’t leave any record of the procedure. I think he charges about $600 if she’s still early term. But you don’t know that do you?”

“No, she’s only taken the test!”

“She knows. The little bitch knows a lot more than she’s telling you. Probably knows the father as well, but you could care less about that. At least for now. Do you need any money?”

“Yeah ... I mean no, I can cover it. I’ll talk to her, get her to sign the statement and set up an appointment with your guy. Thanks a million, Gerry. I’ve been pulling my hair out trying to figure a way out of this mess.”

“Just reinforce the consequences she’ll face if she tells her parents. She a blabber that one,” Gerry said, and then ended the call with, “and good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

Marcie then called Mark and told him everything.

Mark wanted to console Marcie and since she had given him a key to her apartment, he left work early, stopped at a florist and picked up a dozen long stemmed roses and dropped in on her unannounced. He was smiling as he opened the door and stepped inside and heard some bumping like sounds from her bedroom.

She’s moving the furniture around, he thought and laughed silently.

But as he approached the opened door and saw what was causing the bumping he involuntarily dropped the roses to the floor. Marcie and the little raven-haired teen who she’d just told him was pregnant were on the bed sixty-nining.

Marcie was on her back with the lithe teenager on top. From Mark’s viewpoint he could see that Marcie’s skirt was twisted around her waist, she wasn’t wearing any panties, and the little vixen, Aniah was licking and sucking away at her glistening pussy as though she were lapping up the nectar of the gods. And while he couldn’t actually see it, it sounded as though Marcie was capably reciprocating. The lascivious sight caused an enormous bulge in his slacks as his prick surged to full size.

At that moment he wanted nothing more than to shuck his clothing and join in, but that would have been impolite, not to say embarrassing to the teenager and possibly incriminating himself and Marcie if things went south.

Marcie bucked her hips, thrusting them up against the little raven--haired teen’s mouth, and he heard the familiar squeal of her as she reached her climax. Aniah gave her a few seconds to recover then resumed her tongue-lashing. A minute or so later the lithe teen seemed to lose her concentration as she pulled her head away from Marcie and her eyes glazed over before moaning softly, and then shuddering through an orgasm of her own.

A few seconds later she pulled herself together and started to resume pleasuring Marcie. That’s when she happened to look up and see Mark watching them.

In shock, the little minx sat back on Marcie’s face, causing a muffled protest. Mark winked at Aniah and held a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. Aniah, blushing bright pink with embarrassment, nodded her head as a gesture of understanding, raised her haunches off Marcie’s face so she could breathe and she resumed her oral ministrations.

Noticing Marcie’s discarded panties on the bedroom floor, he picked them up and held them to his nose and savored the mingled perfumed and sexual secretions contained on them. Aniah’s eyes widened at this and she smiled lewdly at him, a promise that he could have her when Marcie was finished eating her.

But Mark was smart enough to steer clear of the teenaged Aniah, and quietly backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. He found a pad of yellow stickum’s on the kitchen counter and left a brief note saying: ‘Killjoy was here,’ drew a smiley face and stuck it the front of Marcie’s panties, and quietly left her apartment.

Later that evening, Marcie turned up at his houseboat with a large pizza.

“Thank you for the roses, they were beautiful. And I liked the note. It was a lovely touch—leaving it where you did. So tell me, how much did you see?”

“Enough to see that you probably are a nymphomaniac,” he said then laughed.

“Well I did tell you,” she said and smiled as he beckoned her close so he could embrace and kiss her.

He noticed an added piquancy to her normal taste and knew instantly it was Aniah’s pussy juice he tasted.

“Didn’t you shower after... ?”

“Mmmm, I did, but I didn’t brush my teeth.”

“Why not?” But he already knew the answer to that.

“You know why. You did want to get a taste of her, didn’t you? I mean, I certainly understand you wanting to steer clear of her because of her age. But this way you get to sample the merchandise, right?” So tell me, what do you think?”

“Nowhere close to you,” he said and kissed her again. That kiss lasted throughout the time it took him to waltz her from the living quarters into the sleeping quarters, where he ended the kiss and deposited her gently on the bed then slid his hands under her skirt and squeezed her ass.

Marcie laughed and asked, “Did you find it yet?”

Realizing it was now a game they were playing, he let his hand roam about under the skirt. Reaching the front of her panties he felt a wisp of paper and took it out from under the skirt. It was another smiley face, with the words, ‘Make me cum XXX times!’ written beneath it.

“We should have at the pizza first, you think?” Mark said softly.

“Up to you, want I want right now is that fat cock pressing against my inner thigh.”

“All right, I have a microwave. We can heat it up later.”

“I hope you mean the pie. I’m pre-cooked already. See the steam coming out from under my skirt?”

He laughed. “I believe I do.”

“Do you think I’m weird?”
{br}

“Well, I’m not sure. I mean, there are fetishes, and then there are fe-tish-es!”

Marcie’s eyebrows went up a notch. “Well, we haven’t had THIS discussion before--- although...” She fanned her face with an opened hand then broke out in a full laugh. When she regained her composure, she apologized, saying: “Look I know you may not have enjoyed catching Aniah and me like that...”

“On the contrary, I enjoyed the hell out of it. I almost piled on the two of you, but thought better when considering her age and the present circumstances.”

“The present circumstances? I don’t...”

“Your problems are my problems, Marcie. At least they are from my perspective. You want to know what I think.”

“Of course!”

“You’re seeing a shrink because you feel you’re a nymphomaniac. Um, maybe you are. That’s not for me to say. But it occurs to me that from what you’ve told me about yourself that it could be something else.”

Marcie started to object, but Mark held a hand up and she stopped and listened.

“I don’t pretend to know it all, but hear me out and see if what I say has any meaning. You were a virgin when you got to college?”

“That’s right. Laura and I...”

“She seduced you and that was your first sexual experience, right?”

“Well I did my fair share of masturbating...”

“She took you clubbing to find a guy. You met one and gave him a handjob, if I recall, right?”

“Yeah,” she said reflecting back to that night.

“Then some professor ... that didn’t work out well as I recollect.”

“Right instead of taking my virginity he analized me. I know, I know, that was virgin territory too, but it wasn’t what we’d agreed on.”

“He threw you out without any clothing too, right?”

“Yeah ... eventually he let me back to get dressed, but it wasn’t an enjoyable experience.

“Let’s see, Laura brought you home with her. You and her got it on, well you’d been lovers all along—only she added a friend.”

“Yeah, a girl friend from high school.”

“And the three of you picked up some guys.”

“Yeah, I really liked this one guy.”

“You blew him in front of the others.”

“Did another guy too. Same way. Laura’s girl friend was pissed, it was her designated guy.”

“And that same night you wound up clubbing and allowed this older woman to strip you in public.”

“Mmmm, and I went down on her in the club. About a hundred people watched me and applauded afterward.”

“How did that feel?”

“It was a long time ago. I can’t remember how I felt at the time. Probably enjoyed it.”

“Really?”

“Mmmm, maybe not. I don’t remember.”

“You took on four college guys at their place too, right?”

“Yeah, but it was five guys. Once each and they used rubbers.”

“Okay, enough of the memory lane shit, Marcie. Here’s what I’m thinking. You’re not a nymphomaniac; you’re more of a Sub.”

“Me, a sub?”

“Yeah, you know, Dominant—Submissive. I see you as a submissive type. You respond to sexual suggestion, at least it kind of ties in with your sexual history. But and this is a big but, something’s missing. Is it possible you had something happen to you as a child that scarred you? Something sexual but at the time you didn’t recognize it for that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t think of anything.”

“It’s something to bring up when you see your shrink. Maybe he can help you bring it out. But there’s something there, Marcie. I can feel it in my bones.”

As she thought more about her parents, Marcie couldn’t describe her father as a forceful man in any way but one. He was certainly sweet and loving, a good provider and obviously a good husband, for she had lived a happy childhood filled with happy memories.

Then she thought about what Dr. Dersherwitz, her therapist had told her: ‘Anyone with poor self-esteem, or emotional issues resulting from an abusive relationship with a parent or partner, can benefit from strength-based therapy. This includes people with serious mental health issues such as depression, anxiety, and schizophrenia, who can use strength-based therapy to build confidence and reduce the stress of living with such a condition. Strength-based therapy can be used as an intervention for individuals of all ages, couples and families. Over our next few sessions we will look into those and other possibilities. Rest assured you are not addicted to sex; you merely have a very healthy aptitude for it.’

Then she considered her mother, a quiet, unassuming woman, never a harsh word coming from her mouth. If she was upset with something or somebody, she would just throw her hands in the air and say, ‘The Lord will fix it in His own time.’ That was the answer to most of her worries. She loved her husband and Marcie had often seen them holding hands or taking a furtive kiss when they thought she wasn’t looking. And in this air of unconcerned lifestyle, she had simply grown up more and more in their likeness.

But something a nagging her. She couldn’t quite bring it forward into her consciousness. Following the advice of Dr. Dersherwitz, Marcie let herself go into a state of free association but tried to steer her mind back to her childhood.

She remembered once when a young girl had been sexually murdered in the city, everyone wanted to talk about it. It was in all the newspapers and on every television channel, but the discussions were just too much for her parents, and they literally shut themselves and Marcie inside, cancelling the papers and banning the television news until they were sure the story had faded away.

And when her first period arrived, her mother showed her how to fit a sanitary napkin in her panties, but never broached the reasons why she bled from ‘that place’ every month. She was brought up to know her pussy as her ‘front’ and her bottom as her ‘back’. Not even the most basic clinical information was given, putting her at great disadvantage when she was with the few school friends she had. When her friends got into a huddle in the schoolyard, sniggering at some suggestive story, or when one of the girls decided to brag about her experiences with a boyfriend, Marcie remained quiet and unobtrusive, scared that if she said something, she would probably have misunderstood and looked stupid in front of them all.

She never wanted to mix with boys at all, probably for the same reasons. She felt distinctly uneasy when in their presence, never knowing what to say, never able to make conversation even in basic terms. Certainly her parents had never encouraged friendship with any boy, scared themselves that she would ‘get into trouble’. They had told her this several times and she never quite knew what they had meant but it didn’t help in her quest to mix with others.

Sex education in school was non-existent and she had learned the little she did know from those huddles of girlfriends and the giggling stories they sometimes told. Despite all that, she was satisfied with her life and achievements, which included her playing the piano, and being touted as a prodigy.

She was a top student throughout high school and ... Suddenly she recalled a particular school night. She had been in bed, but got thirsty and was going to the bathroom to get a drink of water when she heard unfamiliar sounds downstairs. Someone was grunting and groaning. Thinking one of her parents might be in trouble, she started down the stairs only to stop halfway down. At first Marcie had thought she was dreaming it all, but several seconds passed and after rubbing her eyes she had refocused on the tableau in the living room below her. Her father was on his knees. He was kneeling behind his brother, her Uncle Louis. But he was shoving his penis into his brother’s heinie.

What was this?

She blinked several times then tried to wipe the image away, but there was no doubt about it. Uncle Lewis was also on his knees facing her mother whose legs were straddling the armchair she sat in while Uncle Lewis had his face buried between her legs.

As for Marcie, it was the very first time she touched herself sexually, even though it was absentmindedly as a reflex action to the scenario before her.

She watched a while longer, perhaps another two or three minutes, then fearing being discovered, she crept back to her room and spent the rest of the night wondering about what she’d seen and what it must be like to have a penis in her behind or a face buried in her front. She fingered herself for the first time that night.

The next morning was like any other morning with the family. Marcie never caught them doing anything lewd again, and put what she had seen out of her mind. But she continued to masturbate from that day on.

“What’s wrong, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Mark said a concerned expression on his face.

“I might have,” she replied softly, “but I—I need you now, Mark. Please---please, do me,” she pleaded.

“Your wish is my command, Marcie,” he said, scooping her up and carrying her into the bedroom then laid her on the bed.

Marcie laughed and said, “I can see the stars through that porthole, that’s what it’s called right?”

“Yes,” he replied as the fingers of each hand stroked lightly up and down her legs, never quite reaching her vulva which was so aroused a small pool of milky white discharge was threatening to overflow.

“Please do me, please,” she whimpered. But there was no way her pussy was going to be satisfied completely just yet and she knew it just as Mark did. So the massage began with Mark leaning forward as his hands slid up her torso to just below her breasts.

She moaned and tossed her hips as he pressed firmly on both breasts and then kissed her while kneading them and flicking the nipples then tickling the underside of each breast in turn.

She twisted her face away from him and cried, “Mark ... baby ... do me, please!”

“All in good time, Marcie; all in good time, now please be quiet.” He said soothingly as his hands moved downward appeasing her slightly because he was moving in the right direction.

He continued moving south, pinching the flesh of her waist and hips, swirling across her stomach and across her pubic hairline and stopped.

“Baby!” she moaned, “Do meeee!”

He paused, then returned his hands to her thighs, lessening the pleasures she had received over her torso. She knew why. He had told her to be quiet and she’d still pestered him and now she would suffer the indignity of having to wait for the pleasure she needed so badly.

But Marcie was stubborn too, and was about to curse him when he swiped his thumbs upwards so close to her swollen labia that she hissed in surprise and pleasure.

But he hadn’t quite touched her there. Then his fingers were back on her thighs and then her knees.

“Noooo!”

“Be quiet,” he said firmly and she bit her lip to keep from cursing him, and compelled herself to wait.

His hands returned to her belly, his fingertips then swept downward, ever closer to her sex until she began to shudder and mewl as they passed by her cunt. Mark decided it was time to reward her a little when she grunted and spread her legs to what he thought was an impossible width that caused her juices to flow out and drizzle onto the bed sheets.

His thumbs lightly grazed along the edge of each of her outer labia. Her sounds went up a decibel or two.

Mark was fully aware that she was desperate to reach her climax, but he wanted this one to be memorable and not ordinary, and so he repeated the light touches along her labia, felt her shudder again and again as she pushed her groin harder against his fingers, hoping to get them inside her.