Chapter 55: Saturday, Oct. 6

I awoke a little after 7 a.m., still nude, flat on my back with Marie snuggled close to my right side, her head on my shoulder. Which confused me for a bit because the last thing I remembered was being on my stomach as she gave me a massage. I had no idea how I’d gotten on my back, but it appeared I hadn’t gotten off the bed. I was still lying atop a towel.

I extracted myself from Marie and was amazed at how much better my left shoulder felt. No pain and I could rotate it in a full circle. The only issue was the lack of control I had as I tried to lower it.

I hit the bathroom and took care of business, then stepped into the kitchen to fix a bowl of cereal. The little dining table and chairs were still out on the patio, but it was no problem to eat standing at the counter. I’d done that on more than one occasion before.

Breakfast was consumed quickly and I was placing my dishes in the sink when Marie stepped around the corner, still nude except for her choker. My dick took notice. She looked a little grumpy. I didn’t think I’d made that much noise.

“Why’d you have to go and fall asleep on me?” she complained as she reached past me, a nipple brushing against my stomach, to hit the switch on the coffee maker. “I was hoping we could do it again after I finished giving you the massage.”

All right, I thought. Time to take control here. Having my nude submissive bitch standing close enough to make contact was having an effect on me.

I hooked her around the waist with my right arm, lifting her little body relatively easily and causing her to squawk.

“Quiet!” I commanded, swatting her little ass with my left hand as I stepped toward the bed. I don’t know how much force I could have generated with the arm, but I wasn’t trying to hit her that hard, anyway.

Tossing the little waif on the bed on her back, I took a knee in each hand and pushed her legs apart as I stepped into position.

“So, you wanted to do it again, did you?” I sneered as I fisted myself to hardness, which didn’t take long considering the circumstances. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you what can happen to little girls who go running around naked in front of horny teenage boys?”

“Daddy!” she squealed as I slotted the head of my dick at her opening.

The squeal rose in pitch as I smoothly slid into her moistening snatch. I was again glad Arlene had had soundproofing installed in the apartment. Gladys Osborne would surely have been disturbed by the noise we were making.

“Don’t you know little girls can get into all kinds of trouble if they aren’t careful?” I hissed as I began thrusting. “Maybe even the biggest trouble of all. Do you know what can happen if you let a boy come inside you at the wrong time of month?”

Marie just squealed louder and hooked her legs behind me as a strong tremor shook her.

“Tell me, Marie,” I growled as I continued pounding her little hole. “What could happen if I shoot off inside your unprotected pussy this morning?”

“I ... I ... I could get pregnant!” she wailed as she shuddered violently, the spasming of her internal muscles taking me over the edge with her.

We remained where we were as we came down from our respective highs, Marie’s clenching vagina continuing to milk me and make me think of having another go. A look at the clock scuttled that idea. It was almost 7:30 and I had to be at the fieldhouse by 8. Still needing to shower, dress and drive over there, I figured there was just enough time.

I looked down at Marie. Her flushed face sported a satisfied expression. Like I needed an ego boost right now.

“Better?” I asked just a touch haughtily.

“Much,” she panted, lifting her head for a sweet kiss. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“We both need a shower,” I said, rising off her little body, my dick making a slurping noise as it slid out. “Let me help you up.”

I assisted her off the bed and removed her choker, which I placed atop the dresser. After making sure to turn off the alarm on my phone, we made our way to the bathroom. Once the water reached an acceptable temperature, I soaped and scrubbed us both. Marie insisted I keep my hands and other body parts away from her abused vagina. She didn’t want to wash out all the semen before my little swimmers had a chance to do their thing. There was still a goodly amount of fluid seeping down her thighs that had to be rinsed away.

I hopped out and dried quickly, still amazed at the ease of movement in my left arm. I went to get dressed as Marie finished up. Cargo shorts, T-shirt, deck shoes should be enough to get me through the morning. I could grab a polo at home before I met the girls for lunch and shopping.

“What are your plans for today?” Marie asked as she grabbed one of my dress shirts off a hanger. The shirt and her choker were all she wore.

“I’ve got to run home and do the yard after I get done at the fieldhouse,” I said as I slipped on the sling, which wasn’t really necessary now, I thought. “Then I’m supposed to meet Staci and the other girls for lunch. I hope to get back here before 2 so I can do some studying. Then it’ll be time to get ready for my date. What do you have?”

“I’ve got to pick up your blazer from the cleaners before they close at noon,” the little waif said, “but your shirt and slacks are done and hanging in the laundry room. The Benavidez boys will be here before too long to break things down from last night. I’ll have them bring your table and chairs back in here.”

“Make sure you’re dressed appropriately, then,” I ordered. “It’s bad enough you showed Arturo the goodies. The rest of his relatives don’t need to see what you’ve got.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said with a blush. “You’d better get going.”

I grabbed a cap and one last kiss, made sure I had wallet, keys, phone, shades and hit the door. Arlene’s tour bus was parked out front as I backed out of the drive, but I saw neither of the goddesses. I didn’t have time to wait on them, either. They’d just have to understand we’d said our goodbyes last night.

The trip to school was quick and uneventful, allowing me to pull into my parking spot on time. One thing I noticed on the drive was the number of storefronts with messages supporting the Mighty Blue painted in their windows. Most were along the lines of “Go, Mighty Blue! Beat the (insert name of opponent)!” A few had Homecoming-specific messages that would need to be cleaned up before Monday.

When I got to the training room, Doc gave me a good going over. The head trainer was pleasantly surprised that I’d made such progress in less than 12 hours.

“I got a massage before I went to bed,” I said. “That helped a lot. I don’t know what she did, but the pain just disappeared.”

“She?” Doc asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Mrs. Jenson’s housekeeper,” I said. “She’s taken courses in massage therapy, but didn’t take the state exam to get certified.”

“Uh huh,” Doc grunted. “I’m pretty sure you pinched a nerve and planned to set you up with a therapist, anyway. Can you see this lady regularly?”

“Daily, if necessary,” I said. “I’ll be house sitting for Mrs. Jenson these next two weeks while she’s out of town on business. Her housekeeper lives in.”

“Uh huh,” Doc grunted again.

At least he didn’t ask me about happy endings.

“I want you to stay with the sling through the weekend,” he said as he pressed fingertips into the shoulder joint. “We need to fit you with a harness to wear under your pads. I’m not saying you can’t play next week, but I won’t clear you until we see how things go in practice. I don’t think you need an MRI right now, but you should avoid contact for a while.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Do we need to try the harness now?”

“No, we’ll do it Monday in athletic period,” he said. “You won’t be doing any bench presses. Keep the sling until then.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, hopping off the table, reclaiming my shirt and the sling. “See you Monday.”

After retrieving my dirty socks from my locker, I headed home and arrived a little after 8:30 to find Jed, Chuck, Reggie and Marshawn getting things arranged to start on the yard. We were becoming a regular little quintet what with postgame meals and yardwork.

“Hey, guys,” I said as I got out of the car. “Thanks for helping out.”

“More like doin’ it for ya,” Jed sniped. “Your dad’s right, you will do anything to get out of work.”

“I’m fine,” I said, moving my left arm as proof. “Doc just wants me to wear the sling for the weekend. He didn’t even rule me out for next week.”

“You need to come to church with us tomorrow,” Marshawn said. “Let Pop lay hands on ya and pray for your recovery.”

It took me a second to realize he was serious.

“Couldn’t hurt,” I said, wondering if this was his idea or Ny’Quesha’s.

I ran inside to dump my socks in the laundry hamper, then we quickly divvied up assignments. I agreed to settle for raking and bagging, which was still enough to get me sweaty and stinky as the day began to warm up. The work was completed in a little less than an hour, about 9:30 before it could get too warm.

We were putting things away when Kacie stepped out of the house with a six-pack of cold sodas and a wad of cash. It seems Mom had already negotiated the pay rate and made Dad supply the funds.

At least that kept a little money in my pocket. With what I’d spent on Homecoming, I figured I’d already blown my allowance for most of November.

“Now I can take Kelli somewhere other than McDonald’s before the dance,” Chuck grinned as he pocketed his share.

Where to eat before the dance, of course, had to be discussed as we sipped our drinks. It seemed Familia Benavidez was a popular choice. Kacie said most of the band kids were taking over a barbecue joint and had already informed the owner to throw on a couple of extra briskets. The kids who could get their parents to pay tended to favor steakhouses for such occasions and there were plenty of those to go around.

“You need a shower,” Kacie sniffed after the guys departed. “You’re all sweaty and stinky. You’re not getting in my Rover smelling like that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said and went to do as I was told.

I pulled out a clean polo after washing for the second time in a matter of a couple of hours. Kacie was waiting in the family room when I emerged from my room a little before 10.

“Do you mind if I join y’all for lunch?” she asked, cranking up the adorable factor. “Staci said y’all were hitting the mall. I need to get some hose to go with the dress I’m going to wear tonight.”

“I guess,” I said, mentally calculating how many seats were available in the Rover — adding Kacie would fill it up. “I’ve got something I need to do first, but it shouldn’t take long, maybe an hour. Be ready when I get back. I’m supposed to be at Staci’s around 11:30.”

“You’d better get moving, then,” my sister said before claiming her long-delayed morning kiss.

I climbed back into the Beemer and backed out of the carport. Several minutes later, I turned onto Redwood and drove to a used car lot.

I was in luck. Mr. McCloskey was there and hurried over to greet me himself.

“That was a helluva game last night,” he said, pumping my right hand. “How’s the shoulder?”

“Much better, thanks,” I said. “The trainer just wants me to wear the sling for the weekend as a precaution. I might get to play next week.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said. “We need ya out there. Good things have a way of happenin’ when you’re on the field.”

We chatted a little more about the game and how the district race was shaping up — the top four teams were now all 2-0 after winning by comfortable margins — before I started maneuvering the conversation in the direction I wanted.

“Did Marie make her car payment on time?” I asked.

“She was here waiting on me Monday morning,” the used car salesman said. “Actually made two payments. She seems to be doing well.”

“Yeah, well, I still don’t know exactly what I’m doing,” I admitted. “We’ve had a couple of incidents where I didn’t realize she was feeling neglected until she acted out in a way that demanded punishment. But she settles right down once she gets what she needs.”

“You oughta punish her weekly just to make sure even if she doesn’t ‘act out,’ as you say,” Mr. McCloskey said. “If she starts trying to avoid you, then it’s time to ease off. You may have to go back and forth a bit, but you’ll find the sweet spot if you hang in there.”

“That’s gonna take a lot of time, isn’t it?” I mused.

“Had me a girl once whose needs seemed to change almost weekly,” he said. “Took me more’n two years to get it right. Turned out she had a hormonal imbalance that caused behavioral changes as she went through her cycle.”

“What’d you do?”

“Knocked her up and married her once the docs figured out the right treatment,” he said. “She got a lot more manageable after that. Workin’ inside right now. Turned out to be a great little bookkeeper as well as a great little fuck.”

I mulled that for a bit before getting to the real reason I was here.

“There’s another woman I have to deal with regularly who used to be a pet,” I said. “She learned I have a girl and has been pushing my buttons for several weeks now.”

“Why don’t ya take her in, then?” Mr. McCloskey asked.

“It’s not that simple,” I said. “She’s in a position of authority over me and would face legal problems if we got involved. That doesn’t even factor in what would happen if the other stuff comes out. I need to find her a new Dom before she goes too far. I was hoping you might have some ideas.”

You could practically see the light bulb turn on above the used car dealer’s head.

“You mean ol’ Doc Montero’s little spinner, doncha?” he asked quietly, getting a slight nod from me. “Why don’t we step into my office for a moment?”

Mr. McCloskey led me inside, told the attractive 30-something lady seated at a desk — I presume she was his wife/pet — we were not to be disturbed and led me to a little walled-off section at one end.

“Have a seat,” he said as he closed the door. “Would you like a Coke?”

“No thank you, sir,” I said as I sat in a rather uncomfortable chair. “I’ve already had one this morning and Coach Tucker wants us to avoid drinking too many. He advises us to drink water.”

“Yeah, better do what your coach says,” he said, moving behind his cluttered desk. “Seems to be workin’ so far.”

Mr. McCloskey settled in and looked at me for a moment.

“I can’t stress enough that what we talk about not be repeated,” he said. “Too many ‘do-gooders’ out there would be only too happy to cause trouble for our little community. I’ve got some good friends who’d see it as a betrayal and I don’t want that on my hands.”

“Understood, sir,” I said.

“Lemme tell ya a little story,” he began as he leaned back in his overstuffed office chair.

Eduardo Montero knew he was dying, but continued taking Palomita to swinger parties despite his frail condition. He used these occasions to surreptitiously canvas other Doms in hopes of finding one to take his wife in once the end came. All were either deemed unsuitable or, as in McCloskey’s case, not in a position to take on another pet.

Getting desperate, Dr. Montero began looking outside the swinger set. Under the guise of conducting research for an article he was planning to write for a scholarly journal, he had his wife distribute personality profiles to her coworkers at school. One showed promise, but had no experience in or even connection to the scene — an assistant football coach named Durwood Earl Dunwoody.

Sadly, Eduardo passed before he could approach the prospect about becoming his successor. Palomita disappeared from the scene after that. Only a select few such as Bob McCloskey knew of her role as an educator.

I just sat there in disbelieving silence. Dunwoody’s first name was Durwood?

“It was somethin’ of a gentlemen’s agreement with a few of us that we’d at least shield the woman from the predatory types who might recognize her as a stray, but none of us could take her on as a pet,” Mr. McCloskey said. “I pretty much retired from the scene when I married Maggie out there. I make decent money doin’ this, but it needed to be used for raising my children, not collectin’ more girls.”

“I get that,” I said, thinking of the financial obligation I would be taking on if/when Jan and/or Marie became pregnant. I needed to get with Meredith Metzger to see about coming up with some kind of agreement for both before they did.

“I understand the Dunwoody fella is still with the school district as some kinda assistant principal,” the used car salesman said. “Ya might wanna feel him out about the situation. There’s not much else I can do for ya, though. Maybe one of the other pet owners can give ya better advice. Lemme give ya their contact info. Use my name and tell ‘em I referred ya to ‘em.”

McCloskey pulled a black address book out of a locked drawer on the desk, then grabbed a pen and notepad, scribbling the information down as he flipped through the pages.

“So, what are our chances next Friday?” he asked conversationally as he worked.

“Pretty good, I think,” I said. “Just looking at the scores so far, the Bears are better than the Lions or Tigers, but they still haven’t won a game. They just haven’t lost as badly. They’ve stayed within two or three touchdowns in all their games. I’ll have a better feel after we see the film on them.”

“Our first three district games are against the Lions, Tigers and Bears?” he asked. “Oh my.”

I accepted the slip of paper when he tore it off the pad and gave it a quick glance. The only name I recognized was Phillip Reynolds.

I folded the paper and put it in my wallet. I’d have to enter the names and numbers in my contacts when I had a chance, but I needed to get back home right now. A Rover load of girls expected me to take them shopping.

“Thank you for your help, sir,” I said, holding out my right hand.

“Anytime, son,” he said, giving me a quick shake. “And go, Mighty Blue!”

“Yes, sir,” I chuckled as I took my leave.

Kacie surprised me when I walked into the family room a little after 11. Not only was she ready to go, she was all dolled up like she was going on a date. And based on my experience from this week with Elise, my sister probably thought she was.

She was wearing a beige cotton tanktop dress with a scoop neckline, the shoulder straps wide enough to allow her to wear a regular bra. And, of course, she had her choker on. The dress hung loosely below the snug bodice, coming just to the knees of her bare legs. It looked appropriately cool for a warm fall day.

All I could think of was the ease of access such a garment allowed. The shoulder straps looked like they could easily be slid down her arms to expose things up top and the skirt was loose enough a guy could hike it up out of the way down below. I certainly wouldn’t mind being the guy, either. The fact she wasn’t wearing pantyhose helped add to the allure.

“Where are you kids off to?” Mom, who’d returned from her weekly grocery run, asked from the kitchen.

“The mall,” Kacie answered. “Gary’s taking us for lunch and shopping.”

“Who’s ‘us?’” Mom persisted.

“Staci, Bethany and Morgan,” I said. “Elise Stirling and Sherry Parker may tag along, but I haven’t gotten all the details. We’ll find out when we get to Staci’s. Morgan and Bethany slept over with her last night.”

“Well, behave yourselves,” Mom admonished us. “Do you have enough money?”

“Gary does,” Kacie said, pulling me out the door before either Mom or I could respond.

“How do you know I have enough money?” I asked my sister as she led me to the carport.

“I looked in your wallet when you were in the shower,” she said, not even blushing. “I figured you would have stopped to get enough cash to pay the boys for helping with the yard. Mom said that was one thing she forgot to mention to you last night and made Daddy leave enough to cover it. She said he’d just have to beat Grandpa at golf today to cover it.”

I was seriously considering putting the girl over my knee for such an invasion of my privacy, but we were pressed for time. Mom probably wouldn’t have approved, either.

I took a moment to raise the top on the Beemer, then had to adjust the driver’s seat and mirrors on the Rover. When I cranked the wagon up, the low-fuel warning light was shining.

“When was the last time you fueled this thing up?” I asked Kacie.

“I haven’t yet,” she admitted rather sheepishly. “It came with a full tank.”

“You’ve driven five weeks on one tank of gas?” I asked incredulously. “I probably used a quarter of it when I took Marie grocery shopping and that was Labor Day.”

“It has a big tank and I don’t go very far,” my sister said, turning up the adorable to full blast. “I was hoping my Big Bwudder would put in a couple of gallons for me today since he’s going to be dwiving it tonight. Like Grandpa did two weeks ago when I was over at the new house.”

I just sighed and shook my head. Knowing Grandpa, he’d filled it up. He was the sort who always made sure the females in his family were never in danger of being stranded on some roadside.

I pulled into the first convenience store we came to, not being willing to risk running dry in the hopes of paying a few cents a gallon less farther down the road. Following Grandpa’s example, I went ahead and filled it up, thankful this place had pay-at-the-pump. It didn’t seem nearly as painful using the debit card as it did paying cash.

The damn thing took more than 26 gallons. The owner’s manual said it held 27.3. There goes my allowance through Thanksgiving, I thought.

While I was doing the work, Kacie went inside to go potty, which she could have done at home before we left. She came back with some tabloid and was in the shotgun seat flipping through the pages as I finished up. At least she paid for it herself.

“Anything interesting?” I asked as I got in and buckled up, totally unprepared for the response I got.

“Lela’s Mystery Man Found,” my sister read from an inside page, “High School Football Star Denies Paternity.”

Fuckin’ great, I thought, heaving a sigh. Just the fact I was being referred to as a football star should be enough to show these people were full of shit. I cut my sister off as she began reading the article aloud.

“I don’t even want to know,” I snapped before she got past “Teen sensation Lela.” “Save it for Mr. Richards. If there’s anything libelous, let him handle it.”

I got back on the road as Kacie continued reading. There were several snickers and one gasped “they didn’t!” I just don’t want to know.

Thanks to our unplanned stop, it was after 11:30 when I pulled into the Pattersons’ front drive. Mrs. Patterson answered the door and welcomed us in. Kacie was told to go on up to Staci’s room, where the other girls were getting ready. My mistake was not making her leave the tabloid behind. It was 10 minutes before Mrs. Patterson went to check on them and another 20 before they all came down the stairs.

“I can’t believe they put that kind of garbage in print,” I heard Mrs. Patterson say. “I’ll make sure George sees this.”

As long as she keeps the publication here, I thought. I simply don’t need the girls reading the thing out loud in public.

Any thoughts I had regarding tabloid journalism vanished as I caught sight of my lunch companions. They were all wearing variations on the cotton tanktop dress, all in different colors, that showcased their assets nicely. There were differences like spaghetti straps and necklines, but they all hung loosely from bodice to knee. Bethany was in a bright yellow, Morgan in red and Staci in light blue. It was simply breathtaking. I think I forgot why I was there for a second.

Like my sister, Bethany was wearing her choker. I would be expected to make sure they all had one upon our return.

“C’mon,” Morgan giggled, closing my mouth for me. “We still need to pick up Elise and Sherry.”

“Sherry’s not here?” I asked, finally snapping out of my daze.

“She decided to sleep in, but she just called to say she’s up and moving,” Staci informed me. “We’ll bring her back here.”

“Let’s go,” Bethany said, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the door.

I barely remembered to say good-bye to Mrs. Patterson as we stepped outside.

I was grateful the three girls from the sleepover simply got in the middle seat instead of arguing over who got shotgun.

“It’s Kacie’s ride, anyway,” Morgan pointed out as they all piled in.

I was mildly disappointed that none of my girlfriends needed a boost to get into the vehicle. There was a lot of shapely leg on display and I would have liked to find out just how high up I could have slid a hand before getting slapped.

It took a few seconds to plot a course over to the Stirlings. The two times I’d been there, I was coming from other directions. All my reference points were off. We pulled up in front of the residence a few minutes later and I got out to go collect our Homecoming queen. I wasn’t even halfway up the walk when she came out the door.

I was again struck dumb. The leggy Amazon was showing off those legs in a dark green cotton dress that didn’t qualify as a tanktop — it had capped sleeves — but everything else about the way it was cut and hung on her frame was similar to what the other girls were wearing. I was beginning to think there had been some coordination regarding outfits among these girls. Imagine that.

One other thing I noticed was Elise’s dress didn’t come all the way to the knee. In fact, it was more than a couple inches short. It may have been designed for someone of her build, but not her height. Have I mentioned that my lab partner has incredible legs?

She was also wearing makeup, tastefully done, of course. This was the third day in a row I’d seen her wearing it. I don’t think she’d worn it that many days total since school started. And she wore her hair loose, something I thought she should do more often instead of the ponytail she and her teammates usually sported.

“Hey, Gary,” she giggled as she greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. “How’s the shoulder?”

“G-great,” I stammered, thinking there was something I was supposed be doing right now besides drooling over another pretty girl.

This time, there was some shuffling required to fit everyone in the Rover. It was decided the two smallest — Morgan and Bethany — would go in the back row. Elise could take shotgun for now since she needed the legroom, but they all agreed Sherry would sit there once we picked her up. I was not consulted in the matter.

As three girls were climbing out of the vehicle for the new seating arrangement, Elise had to examine Kacie’s and Bethany’s chokers and pendants.

“Those are so cute!” the tall girl exclaimed. “Where’d you get them?”

“There’s a boutique in the mall that carries them,” Kacie said. “That’s going to be one of our first stops.”

“Not if we don’t get this show on the road,” I called out as I got back behind the wheel. “We’ve still got another stop to make and I want to have some time to study this afternoon. Let’s move!”

It was pushing 12:30 when we reached the Parker residence. And Sherry still wasn’t ready. The five girls with me had to go offer their assistance, which probably prolonged the process even further, while I chatted with Mr. Parker about our plans for this evening. He and Mrs. Parker would be at the dance to take their daughter home, which would probably happen as soon as she was done dancing with me.

“I tried to get her to leave the game last night when the score started getting out of hand,” Mr. Parker said, “but she insisted on going through halftime and making sure you were all right. She fell asleep on the ride home. I was surprised she made it that far. Yesterday was a long day for her.”

“Look, if she needs to stay home and rest, I can check back later,” I said. “The dance is more important than lunch and shopping.”

“I’ll let you tell her that and then say nice things at your funeral,” he snorted. “She and Staci spent most of the week planning for tonight, then pretty much all yesterday afternoon and evening at the game putting this little excursion together. Did you really stand Staci up Thursday?”

“We just kept missing each other,” I said. “By the time she caught up to me, she had to get home and I still had stuff to do.”

“Sounds like some days I’ve had,” Mr. Parker said. “I don’t guess I need to tell you to be careful with Sherry and call me if anything happens, but I will, anyway.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

Our conversation was ended by the arrival of six giggling teenage girls and one frazzled-looking mother of a giggling teenage girl. I doubted I would look that good after spending the next couple of hours with them.

“Ready to go?” Sherry asked, causing me to turn around.

She, also, was in one of those loose-hanging cotton dresses, this one with short sleeves and a V-neck. It almost looked like she’d stolen one of her dad’s T-shirts except that if fit her. And I’d be willing to bet Mr. Parker probably didn’t have a T-shirt that color unless it was accidentally thrown in with a load of red socks.