Chapter 1: In The Beginning...

She can still see it as if it were happening again this moment --the expression on his face just before impact. She could see he knew it was coming -- that he would be severely injured, and there was no way he could avoid it. That expression on his face clearly said “fear.” She could see the face change as it hit the windshield only inches from her eyes. It changed as if everything were happening in slow motion – as if he were willing time to slow down enough to allow him to get out of this mess. She could feel the bump of the rear tires running over the body. And she could still feel her foot pressing on the accelerator, taking her away from there as quickly as possible. She wonders if anyone else witnessed the horror that occurred that night. She wonders if she could have saved his life had she stopped. She wonders how long these flashbacks would go on. She wonders just what John thinks of her. Outwardly he acts as the model of the devoted husband -- offering her support and solace, as well as trying to cover up everything. She wonders what would happen to her if the authorities found out she was the hit-and-run driver they’ve been looking for since Saturday. Mostly she wonders, “why me?”

The knock on the door brought her back to the present and reality. Before she had time to get up and answer, the call “Barbara?” told her it was Cheryl. Cheryl had introduced herself the day she moved in and, within an hour, was talking about her sex life as if they had been lifelong friends. Barbara had been taken aback by this talk at first but came to accept Cheryl’s “cock sure of herself” boldness. For the most part, Cheryl was your average 23 years old girl-next-door. Plain looking with no exceptional features. Sandy blonde hair, well built, firm body, a friendly personality, and a decided fixation on sex. She had lived in the house next door with her parents until she married and moved into an apartment about a year ago. Being childless and not working left her with plenty of time on her hands, especially since her husband had to be away on business so often. She spent a good deal of this time at her parent’s home and, inevitably, at Barbara’s kitchen table over coffee. During these conversations, Barbara discovered that Cheryl did not have a great marriage. It was evident to Barbara that Cheryl’s lack of inhibitions clashed with her husband, Don’s, rather prudish conservative manner. Barbara also knew that Cheryl very badly wanted to get in the sack with John. Cheryl had even hinted at swinging when they were all partying together. Barbara knew Cheryl well enough to know that Cheryl would never cease to surprise her and that she usually got what she was after.

Today, Barbara seemed to sense that something was different about Cheryl today. As she poured the coffee, she noticed Cheryl sat quietly at the table, which was totally out of character for Cheryl, who usually talked from the moment she walked through the door until she walked back out of it. Having set the cups on the table, Barbara took her seat and was about to open the conversation with a “What’s new?” when Cheryl suddenly opened up.

“Guess what happened to me Saturday night?” she started, although it was not the cheerful “can’t wait to tell ya’” tone one would expect from Cheryl.

“What?” Barbara tried to sound genuinely interested in what Cheryl was saying.

“I was coming home to spend the rest of the weekend at mom’s when I dropped my cigarette onto the carpet. I pulled over and was looking for it when this drunk, trying to cross the street, bumps into my car, staggers back, then walks right in front of a car coming down the street.” She paused to sip her coffee then lit a cigarette before continuing. “Guess what happened next?”

“I have no idea,” Barbara said. She began to panic. Her heart was pounding so hard that she thought Cheryl surely must hear it.

“Oh, I think you do.” Cheryl responded. “I think you know I saw this Pontiac, just like yours, come flying down the street, run him down, then take off like a bat out of hell. I think you know that I saw a woman driving that car who looked exactly like you. I think you know I saw the license plate number, and it was your number. I think you know.” Cheryl’s eyes were glued on Barbara. She took a long drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke over her cup towards

Barbara and just waited.

“What the hell are you talking about? I was here with John all night on Saturday. Ask him!” Barbara shot back.

“Barbara, this is me. I’m no fool. If that’s the case, how did your windshield get broken? Yes, I just “happened” to notice it through the garage window on my way over here. C’mon. Stop bullshitting me. You know, I wonder what the cops are gonna find when they go over that windshield looking for hair or blood or whatever they do in these cases.”

“Why would the cops come here?” Barbara asked suspiciously. Of course, she knew the answer but couldn’t think of anything else to say at the moment. She just wanted to buy a little time to get her head straight and think of some logical explanation -- something -- anything.

“Well, Barbara, I’ve been fighting with myself ever since I saw this nice old

guy get gunned down the other night. I think I have to call the police and tell them what I saw. Unless...” again Cheryl stopped, sipped, and took another puff on the cigarette.

“Unless what?” Barbara was starting to drop her defenses. Maybe, she thought, there is a way out. But then again, why would Cheryl say she was going to the police if she wasn’t? She felt the blood rushing to her head and wondered if it were due to embarrassment or to the fact that she was beginning to get a little annoyed with this brat and wished she’d get to the point.

“You know, Barbara, it hasn’t been fun for me this past year. Being married to “Mr. Goody Two-shoes” is not what I’d call exciting, to begin with, and even at that, he’s been away so much lately that it’s almost like I’m single - only worse. If I were single, I could go out and find someone to spend a wild night with, but being married puts a damper on that kind of behavior. No, I’ve just been sitting around at night, watching TV and thinking thoughts. Lately, those thoughts have been getting wilder and wilder. When I saw you hit that guy the other night, I didn’t know what to do. I mean, how could I face you without thinking about what I saw? I sat home trying about it, and my thoughts would get wilder and wilder. Finally, I thought of what it would be like to have a maid around the house. Someone to wait on me, hand and foot, and do whatever I told them to do.” With that said, Cheryl stopped. She slowly crushed out her cigarette and put the coffee cup back to her lips, watching Barbara over the rim.

Barbara couldn’t control herself any longer. This was too much. Who the hell did this kid think she was?

“Cheryl, you’ve got to be crazy. If you think I’m going to be your maid and wait on you hand and foot, you’re bananas.”

“Now you listen, Barbara!” Cheryl’s tone changed from being sicky-sweet to being downright nasty and dominant. “I’m offering you an alternative. Do you know what’ll happen to you if they find out you ran that guy over and then left the scene? My guess is at LEAST a year or two in prison for vehicular homicide. How are you going to cope with that? How will you explain to your kids why they have to visit mommy in jail once a week? How is John going to cope without a woman around the house for that length of time? You think about it.”

“What is it you want me to do?” Barbara replied quietly. She knew Cheryl had her, but being a maid for a while sure beat going to jail. What would she say to John? How could she get out of the house without him knowing about it?

“Whatever, and I do mean whatever I tell you to do.” Cheryl shot back. “I’ll tell you one thing, though. It’s going to involve a whole lot more than housework and waiting on me -- a whole lot more. I told you I’ve been thinking some wild thoughts lately.”

“Cheryl, let’s get something straight. I’m not a lesbian and don’t intend to become one, so get any thoughts like that right out of your head.”

“No, Barbara, you get this straight. You’ll do what I tell you to do when I say to do it, and with whoever I say to do it. I’m not a lesbian either, but I admit to lately thinking about what it would be like once in a while.”

“Cheryl, I can’t,” Barbara whined softly. “I simply can’t.”

“Tell you what. You think it over. You think it over real good. You look at your husband and your kids, and you think of what you in prison will do to them. You think about it, and when John comes home, you talk to him about it. You make the decision. I’ll be back at 10 o’clock tonight. If you and John agree to this, you put the kids to bed at 9, take your shower, get all prettied up, and put on your robe -- just your robe, nothing underneath, and wait for me. If I come back and you’re not wearing your robe, I’ll know the answer is “no,” and I’ll leave here immediately, and the next time you see me, I’ll be on the witness stand. You think about it. By the way, if you do decide to agree to my terms, have a nice chilled bottle of wine on the table for me.”

Cheryl stood up and looked at Barbara sitting there, stunned, head bowed, and near tears. She paused, walked casually to the door, and left.

“Well,” Barbara thought. “I certainly have gotten myself into a pile of shit this time.” She thought about the day in varying states of confusion, disbelief, shock, and humility. She had surely fucked up this time.

When Barbara told John what had happened with Cheryl that afternoon, She expected him to react with rage and had prepared herself to restrain him from running next door and killing Cheryl on the spot. She didn’t expect he would respond in much the same way she did -- completely defeated. He just sat there staring at his glass of beer and didn’t say a word. He never even looked up when she told him what she thought she would have to do. He never saw the tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she told him how sorry she was for causing this mess and screwing up their lives. He just stared at the beer as if the golden liquid would show him an answer to all their problems.

Finally, John stood up and said, “Whatever you want to do, babe, I’m with you. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this is happening to you. Whatever you decide, I’ll stick by you. I don’t know what I’d do.”

Barbara wondered if he would stand by her or if this ordeal would prove too much for him to handle. Then she wondered what was in store for her. Just what in the hell could possibly be worse than what she’s been through these past couple of days. If she could survive them, she could survive anything. “I guess I’ll find out soon enough.” she thought as she stepped out of the shower, finished drying off, and slipped into her robe.

Cheryl, as usual, was right on time. The knock on the back door came just as the living room clock was beginning to chime. Barbara glanced over at John, took a deep breath, and shivered as she uncrossed her legs and began to stand up. John motioned for her to stay put, got up off the sofa, and walked casually to the back door.

“Cheryl, what the hell is going on?” He asked even before the door was fully opened. John wasn’t sure whether he should show strength and force or humility. He was pissed that Cheryl was doing this to his wife but afraid of what would happen if he didn’t consent. What pissed him off most, though, was that Cheryl wanted his wife, and he had been hoping to get some sack time in with Cheryl himself.

Cheryl took one step into the kitchen, looked at him, and smiled. She had obviously “prettied” herself up also. She was dressed in a short cotton dress that wrapped around her and appeared to be held on by one button on the side at the waistline. It was evident to John that she wore no bra or stockings, and he wondered if she had anything on under that dress. As he looked at her, he felt that familiar twinge in his loins as he began to get hard.

“Well, let’s find out, John, shall we?” she replied as she walked past him and stood at the small dinette table in the center of the room. She shifted the rather large tote bag she was carrying to the other shoulder and began to twirl the bottle of Zinfandel around in the ice bucket, which sat, all alone, in the center of the table.

“Look, Cheryl, think about what you’re asking of us. Friends don’t do this sort of thing to friends. What is it that you expect of Barbara? God knows she’s been through enough already.”

“Don’t worry, John. I’m just going to have a little fun. Barbara won’t be hurt much. I’m sure that right now, this seems like such a sinister thing I’m doing, but lighten up. I think we’ll all have a good time in the end. I’m sure you and I will, but Barbara just might not care for it. She’s just going to have to put up with it for a while. Who knows? She may enjoy it – but don’t bet on it. As for what I expect of Barbara, we’ll go over that shortly. Do me a favor, will you? Get me a glass and bring the wine into the living room where we can all talk this out.”

Cheryl turned and walked into the living room. She looked at Barbara sitting in the chair, smiled when she noticed that Barbara was wearing a robe, went over, and sat down in the center of the sofa, placing her bag beside her. John came into the room and set the wine and three glasses down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. He silently picked up the bottle and began to pour wine into the glasses he had set in a row.

“Just pour two glasses, John. I don’t believe Barbara will have one just yet.” Cheryl looked directly at Barbara, who was visibly nervous and frightened as she sat rubbing her hands together, staring at the carpet.

“Well, Barbara, it appears that you’ve agreed to my terms after all. Have you?” Cheryl asked while sipping on the cool wine.

“I guess so.” Barbara’s voice was barely audible and had a distinct waver in it. She never moved her head as she spoke and kept looking down at the carpet.

Cheryl smiled outwardly, but inwardly she was laughing. I’ve got her right where I want her, she thought.

“Why, Barbara, I couldn’t hear a word you said. Please come over here and stand in front of the table in front of me and answer my question.” Cheryl spoke as if she were discussing the weather or her new spring wardrobe.

Barbara shot a cold look at Cheryl and, for a moment, was ready to pounce on her and rip her hair out. Luckily she regained her composure quickly and realized that Cheryl was definitely in the driver’s seat. She quickly glanced at John, who sat there looking at her, uncrossed her legs, and slowly started over to the sofa.

Cheryl smiled even wider when Barbara got up and walked over to the exact spot she had directed her to stand. She lifted her glass and finished the wine in one long sip, then turned to John, who was still looking at his wife. Cheryl noticed that John’s hard-on was undermining his outward attempt to show his disdain for the proceedings.

“John, would you refill my glass, please? And, by the way, John, please don’t interrupt Barbara and me during this discussion. You’ll have plenty of time to voice your opinion to Barbara after I leave.”

Cheryl then directed her attention to Barbara standing in front of her. She did look hopeless standing there, still looking at the carpet.

“Well, Barbara, have you agreed to my terms, or haven’t you?

“Yes,” was all Barbara could whisper before almost losing her breath.

“Let’s see about that. First of all, the correct answer would be “Yes, Mistress.” Please try again and speak so that we can hear you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Barbara spat back, then realizing she sounded hostile and afraid Cheryl would get angry, she continued in a more humble tone. “I agree to your terms.”

“Good. Let’s begin then.” Cheryl sat up, opened her tote bag, and rummaged through it for a minute before withdrawing a tape recorder, Polaroid camera, and a file folder. She opened the file folder and pulled out a single sheet of paper, and laid it on the table in front of Barbara.

“Ok, Barbara, you wanted to know what I expected from you. Well, this paper will enlighten things a bit. Now I want you to remove your robe. You don’t have anything on under it, do you?”

“No, I don’t.” Barbara said and quickly added, “mistress.”

“Well, take it off, and let’s see.”

Cheryl was pleasantly surprised when Barbara’s hands undid the sash and let the robe slip off her arms. Barbara had a much better body than she had imagined. She wasn’t as thin as Cheryl had pictured. A better word to describe her would be “trim” with small, pert breasts and a firm, flat tummy one wouldn’t expect from a 28-year-old mother of two. Cheryl had mentioned to a few of her neighbors who dropped by for coffee this morning that she may have a “slave/maid” shortly and when she described Barbara to them, she did not do her justice. Of course, the girls got all giggly and excited about the prospect and made Cheryl promise to keep them informed.

Cheryl had never had a lesbian experience and never thought she would. Sure she fantasized about it occasionally when Don was on one of his business trips, but for the most part, Cheryl was strictly straight. Cheryl had thought of this whole scenario as a possible means to get John in bed with her, but now she was getting turned on, and the thought of having John while Barbara helped and even provided some services was delicious. She could have a good time with this plan, that’s for sure.

Barbara could feel her face getting red. She had never felt so shamed in her life. She held the robe over her forearms and in front of her so to cover her pubic area. She didn’t dare look at John but wondered what he was looking at and what he was thinking. She just wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. She was startled when Cheryl started speaking again.

“Very nice, Barbara. Put the robe down on the chair.”

Barbara turned around and bent over to put the robe onto the chair. Cheryl felt herself quietly gasp when she saw Barbara’s rump. Cheryl always had sort of a “butt fetish,” but Don would have no part of that action. She remembered sneaking up on him one night during foreplay and trying to stick her small vibrator into his butt. You’d think that she wanted to kill him from his

reaction. Barbara’s rear end was exquisite, and she knew she would have fun playing with that. Cheryl’s sight was short-lived as Barbara turned and returned to her spot in front of the table to await her next order.

“Please pick up that paper and read it, Barbara. It is your statement of submission to me.” Cheryl leaned forward and pressed the ‘record” button on the recorder as Barbara bent down to pick up the paper. Barbara straightened up and looked at the paper as tears began forming in her eyes.

“Read it aloud, Please!” Cheryl was annoyed now. “The recorder can’t tape your thoughts, you know.”

Barbara shuddered from the tone of Cheryl’s voice and began reading aloud from the top.

“I, Barbara Morris, do hereby announce my willingness to surrender myself to my mistress, Cheryl Sather. In so doing, I agree to the following terms.”

“1. I shall make myself available to my mistress with one day’s notice. I will make all arrangements for baby-sitting, etc., that will be necessary for me to meet these obligations. I understand that there will be no more than two sessions per week though some sessions may require my attendance overnight or for the weekend.

“2. I shall appear for each such session freshly bathed and groomed and dressed in apparel requested by Mistress Cheryl. I understand that all under clothing, bras, panties, hosiery, etc., are not to be worn at any time during these sessions unless I am told to do so by Mistress Cheryl.

“3. I will not speak unless directed to do so by Mistress Cheryl or given permission to do so first by Mistress Cheryl. When speaking to my mistress, I will always end each sentence with “Mistress Cheryl.”

“4. At no time will I object to or refuse to carry out an order given by Mistress Cheryl.

“5. Although my husband, John, may be present, I will ignore him, his actions, suggestions, and orders unless directed otherwise by my Mistress.

“6. I understand fully that these sessions will be sexual and may involve actions I do not approve of or that may repulse me. I shall, however, comply promptly with my mistresses’ directions and agree to give complete control of my body to my Mistress Cheryl.

“7. I understand that my failure to comply with these conditions, including objecting to, hesitating, or refusing to obey an order by Mistress Cheryl, will result in my punishment, which I agree to accept.

“8. I understand that no permanent harm will come to me, although I may experience humiliation, discomfort, embarrassment, and disgust. I understand that any punishment may cause pain but will not cause any permanent damage to me.

“I am a humble slave to my mistress, Cheryl Sather.”

Barbara’s tears streamed down her cheeks as she finished reading. She felt her knees buckle and felt as if she might faint at any moment. When she said the last words, she continued to stare at the paper and watched as drops of her tears fell on the words as if to punctuate each thing she agreed to. She couldn’t speak or force herself to look at John, who she desperately needed at this moment.

Cheryl reached forward and stopped the tape recorder. She grabbed the bottle and poured herself and John another glass of wine. She looked at Barbara, sat back, and stared at the naked, quivering Barbara again.

“Any questions, Barbara?” She said softly, almost as if she had sympathy for her once good friend with whom she had shared so many secrets.

“Yes, just how long to expect me to do this? It can’t go on forever, you know.” Barbara, too, had changed. She seemed more at ease in her nakedness now. Not comfortable, mind you, but her concentration seemed centered on the business at hand. She even glanced at John and noticed he had one helluva hard-on as he fixed his eyes on her naked body.

“Already, you’ve failed to comply with your terms, slave. You violated item number 3 on that sheet. I’ll make your punishment easy this time, though. But in the future, remember what you’ve agreed to do. Your next punishment will not be pleasant, I assure you. Now to answer your question, this will go on as long as I can keep it going, but I know that I’d look foolish going to the police after a long time had passed. Then again, you may wish it to go on forever. Who knows? Believe this -- it is going on at this moment, and you will hold to your agreement, or I’m out of here and on my way to the police. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes, Mistress Cheryl.” Barbara’s demeanor again changed to one of complete submission, and her head dropped to face the carpet once more.

“Good. Now let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got some preliminaries to go over, and then there’s that punishment due.” Cheryl fidgeted in her tote bag and finally withdrew what appeared to be a photo album. She laid it on the table and opened it to the first page. Barbara noticed that it was empty and wondered why Cheryl brought it out until Cheryl grabbed the camera. She sensed then that it would not be empty for long.

“This book, Barbara, has 100 pages.” Cheryl continued. “Each page will hold six photos on each side. That means when full, this album will have 1200 photos, assuming I don’t add additional pages. Each of those photos will have one thing in common -- they will all be of you naked and posed in every way, doing everything imaginable. We will begin tonight with some rather basic shots of you alone.” She paused and looked at John, who seemed mesmerized by what she was saying. “John, would you be a dear and move this coffee table so that it sits perpendicular to the sofa, and get me a nice, white sheet to spread over it, and, oh yes, I’ll need a pillow.”

John jumped to his feet and cleared the wine off the table, and sat the bottle on the floor at Cheryl’s feet. Then, in one quick move, positioned the table as Cheryl directed. Cheryl then shifted the lampshades on the end tables, causing the lights to be directed towards the coffee table. John hurried out of the room to get the pillow and sheet. Meanwhile, Cheryl shifted her attention to Barbara, who was standing with her hands held open in front of her pubic area.

“Barbara, you seem to have a problem with your hands. It seems you don’t know what to do with them while standing there. From now on, when you are awaiting orders, you will put both hands behind your head and clasp your fingers. You will keep your legs apart so that your pussy is easily accessible to me for whatever I have in mind. I’d say that when standing, there should be 3 feet between each foot, and when kneeling, 2 feet between your knees. And, by the way, keep your head up and look straight ahead with your eyes open. I wouldn’t want you to miss anything. Got it?”

“Yes, Mistress Cheryl,” Barbara said as she quickly put her hands behind her head and moved her feet apart. God, she felt humiliated. How would she ever survive this ordeal? She trembled as she imagined having to pose naked and having all forms of sex while Cheryl took 1200 pictures of her. She wondered how many different things she would be photographed doing before the book was filled. She looked straight ahead, as directed, and focused on the painting on the wall behind the sofa. Since John had moved the table, she was some distance from Cheryl now, but she could not see her. She heard Cheryl doing something but dared not move her eyes downward to look for fear of accruing another punishment. As the thought of the punishment entered her mind, Barbara shivered once again as she remembered her oath, which said that discipline might be painful. Once more, tears began to fill her eyes.

John returned carrying the sheet and pillow and stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the living room and saw Barbara standing there in that position. His dick twitched again, and he thought for sure he would have an orgasm right in his pants if this continued much longer. Cheryl noticed him standing there and told him to spread the sheet on the table and to place the

pillow in the center of the table so it would raise “Barbara’s pretty little butt” up enough to make “everything” visible to the camera lens. He glanced at Barbara and saw her face turn crimson and the tears rolling down her cheeks. His dick twitched once more as he ran to accomplish his task.

Cheryl refilled her wine glass again, picked up the camera, stood up, and moved out of John’s way as he covered the table. She walked around Barbara and stopped behind her to admire her ass again. She continued around until she was just inches away from Barbara’s face. She lifted her hand to Barbara’s breast and gently cupped it, marveling at how firm it was. She had not expected Barbara to be in such great shape, and she certainly did not expect herself to be as excited as she was. She had not worn panties that night and could feel her juices trickling out of her pussy and soaking her thighs. As her eyes glanced over to see how John was doing, she noticed his hard-on had gotten bigger and seemed to be ready to bust out of his pants. She thought about how good this night was going to be and how great future nights would be. Gradually, Cheryl thought, she’d have Barbara groveling to lick her ass while John fucked her. She was on the brink of orgasm when she caught herself and focused her attention back on Barbara.

Cheryl positioned Barbara towards the center of the room and took a couple of pictures of her standing in that embarrassing position. Barbara fought back the urge to close her eyes and kept staring at the painting as Cheryl moved around her and snapped some more shots from the rear, then the side. She was aware of John’s presence and wanted desperately to look into his eyes, thinking that doing so would transport her to another place. Her peace was shattered, and her fears heightened when Cheryl spoke.

“Barbara, I want a picture of you with your nipples hard. Play with nipples until they’re hard. Do you remember telling me how much you enjoyed having your breasts played with?”

“Yes, Mistress Cheryl.” Barbara’s voice was beginning to crack now. Slowly, she moved her hands from behind her head to her breasts and began massaging her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. She blinked each time the flash went off again and again. She willed her body to make her nipples hard so she could stop this in front of John. Where was he, anyway? She longed to look around for him but settled for fantasizing that it was his hands playing with nipples and soon realized that they were indeed getting harder.

“That didn’t take long, did it, slave?”

“No, Mistress Cheryl.” Barbara heard Cheryl’s question and heard herself

reply, but she continued with her fantasy and playing with her nipples.

John had poured another glass of wine for himself and had sat down on a chair while Cheryl busied herself taking pictures. John never dreamed he would ever desire his wife as much as he did this very minute. He was on the verge of exploding and knew he had to do something pretty soon. As Cheryl got between him and Barbara, He noticed he could see up her dress, and he was not surprised to see she wasn’t wearing panties. Her ass looked perfect, and the wetness he noticed on the inside of her thighs made him want her as much as he wanted Barbara.