© copyright 2002 - all rights reserved

When I dropped out of college to get married everyone told me I would be sorry. They were right. Unfortunately, when you're are twenty years old, excercising your right NOT to take good advice is consistant with the stupidity of youth and a total lack of common sense.

Within nine months I was divorced, no job, botched education and living back home with my mother. It was like a bad dream... stuck in a little one horse town, a place I swore I would leave the day I became an adult. Suddenly I found myself confined here with no way out.

I would get extremely depressed when I thought about my high school days, the popularity I experienced, the self esteem I felt. My friends were absolutely sure I would be the one who would escape this boring rural community and be successful in my endeavors. I now felt I was a total failure.

My mother became worried... finally asking Mr Lewis, the local owner of the only bank in the county, to give me a job. Being a friend of the family for years, he actually created a position for me... a charitable act, something he wasn't known for.

The old man liked me for some reason and within three years I was promoted to Head Cashier, a prestigious position for a woman in such a small rural community. He even paid me more than anyone else in the bank, more than employee's who had been with him for years and years.

I became comfortable... the best way to describe my life I guess... buying a small home and resigning myself to the fact that I was never leaving the town where I was born. I slowly became like my mother... hating change, thinking television had become to risque, conservative both morally and politically.

I still remember the day old Mr Lewis told me he was selling the bank. I was depressed for days. I knew he didn't have a choice, the big banks in Chicago had extended their competitive tentacles and our bank just couldn't compete with them any more.

The last day Mr Lewis worked he told me the bank was becoming a branch of First National of Chicago. He said they were sending a Manager from their home office... a Mr Tony Gabriel, but he didn't know when he would arrive. I remember thinking how I would probably hate the guy... some big city "know it all" who wouldn't know a thing about my community and probably wouldn't care to know. Just a stop off point for his "upward mobility" career within the huge corporation.

I'm sure it sounds like my life had become a boring existence but, believe it or not, I actually became quite happy with the simplicity of small town living. That's why I was sad, and fearful, that everything would change when the new manager arrived.

Working for the only Financial Institution in a rural area can be fulfilling for a young woman like myself. Banking emits the aura of respectability and class, especially if you have ranking in the bank like I did.as Head Cashier. Mr Lewis had abdicated his role as the social conscious of the bank sometime ago. He chose me to be the bank's representative within the community, allowing me ample time to be active in the Chamber of Commerce and other civic organizations. These extracurricular activities were the sum total of my social life. I was sure the new manager would take over these functions... performing civic duties always looks good on a resume' or personell file.

I remember the day I returned from lunch, my weekly Chamber of Commerce meeting. Marcia, one of my tellers, met me at the door.

"The new manager is here," she whispered. "And you're not going to believe it. Tony is a woman! Toni. Get it?"

"What," I blurted out. "He's a woman? Wow, we didn't see that coming did we?"

As I hurried to my desk, Marcia followed on my heels. "She wants to see you immediately," Marcia said nervously. "She knew your name and everything. You had better get in to her office."

I deposited my purse in my desk drawer and headed for the new manager's office.

Marcia called out to me, "Kathy, wait a minute. I have to tell you something else before you go in."

"What is it Marcia?" I snapped. I was on edge anyway, and Marcia was beginning to bug me.

"She promoted me to Head Cashier," Marcia blubbered out. "She told me I now had your job."

I stopped in my tracks. "What?" I murmured. "She did what?"

Marcia repeated herself.

"Did she say anything else," I asked hesitantly. "Did she say what I would by doing."

"No she didn't Kathy. I'm sorry. That's all she told me."

My heart began to pound. The first thought that came to my mind... they're going to fire me to cut cost. I would be the most obvious choice... I knew I was over paid.

Suddenly I felt totally disheartened. Where would I work in this one horse town now. There was nothing that I would qualify for that could ever afford me the status and money that this job did. I was scared.

"Come in," I heard a firm female voice say...

As I walked into her office my plight left my mind for a moment. I was temporarily stunned by her appearance. She was definitely a city girl, and so young... so beautiful. She was impeccably dressed... not the kind of clothes you could buy around here. I suddenly felt clumsy and ugly... classless.

Her voice startled me. "Have a seat Kathy," she politely ordered while pointing to a chair in front of her desk. "You look like your picture."

She noticed my puzzlement. "Did you forget about the photographer we sent here three months ago? You know, he came here to take pictures of the bank."

"Oh, yes, I remember," I said smilingly. " But, I don't recall him taking pictures of me!"

"Yes, he took several of you at your desk. He not only thought you were very pretty, he thought you were very photogenic. See, you had an admirer and didn't know it."

I forced a smile, not knowing the protocol in this situation.

"I'm sure Marcia has already told you I promoted her to head cashier," she said quietly. "She's a cute little thing, maybe a little young for that position, but my sixth sense tells me she'll do well once she gets the hang of it. Don't you agree?"

"What about me?" my voice barely audible. "Am I fired?"

"Fired?" she laughed. "Of course not. Is that why your so tense? You look like a frightened little school girl. No, your not fired. I'm promoting you to my personal assistant."

I felt a surge of relief flow over me. She was speaking again.

"What? I'm sorry. I didn't hear what you said."

"I said my information shows you're now making $25,000 a year... right."

"Yes," I said. "The previous owner was very generous."

"Well," Miss Gabriel said. "How does $50,000 a year sound?"

I was stunned. $50,000 dollars! I had lived very comfortably on my present salary. Double it! I didn't know what to say.

"Is there a problem?" Miss Gabriel asked.

"No... no, there's no problem," I said. "But that's a lot of money. Am I qualified for the job you're suggesting? You could have your choice of anyone for that salary."

"I realize that Kathy. But I want you... and yes, your qualified. There is one thing that I expect, however, and that's your full obedience... doing exactly what I order you to do, no questions asked. Some of your duties will appear to be non bank related but I expect your full acceptance in performing these duties as they arise."

I barely heard her mention her expectations... her requirements. I was still thinking of the large salary.

"Can you live with those guidelines Kathy?" her voice asked firmly.

"Oh yesss, I can do that Miss Gabriel. Anything you ask... I'll try to be the best employee... ever. I'll do my best to be an able assistant."

"Good," she said as she ushered me from her office. "I had maintenance set up a desk in the office next to mine. I want you to have an office of your own because... well occasionally, you may need some privacy. Okay with you?"

"Yes, and thanks again Miss Gabriel."

A private office! I couldn't believe the turn of events. And the money. I wanted to skip to my new office, I could barely contain my happiness.

Miss Gabriel was extremely patient in training me in how she expected things to be done. It was a pleasure working for her. She even allowed me to keep my social contacts with the various business and professional groups in town.

She was a city girl though and spent as much time in Chicago as possible. She rented a small apartment in town, nothing very elaborate, but she drove to Chicago every weekend... sometimes not returning till Tuesday or Wednesday of the following week. She often spoke of the beautiful condo she owned in the city... I was quite sure she expected to transfer back there someday.

One day she called me in to her office to discuss, of all things, my wardrobe. She wasn't very kind with her assessment of my clothes and suggested I do something about it. Later that day she called me in again.

"Listen Kathy, I don't think you can find locally the type of clothes I suggested you wear. I have an idea. Why don't you come to Chicago with me this weekend... no, we won't even wait for the weekend. We'll leave Friday morning, shop Friday afternoon and all day Saturday. How does that sound?"

It sounded exciting and I told her so. I hadn't been to Chicago in ages. With my new salary I could afford to shop in some of the more expensive stores she had suggested.

That night I went by my mother's house to borrow a suitcase. She was on the phone when I entered the house. It was apparent from the conversation she was trying to tactfully turn down someone who phoned her for a dinner date.

"Who was that?" I asked when she hung up the phone.

"Oh, someone I met at the Jennings party last week. They're always having these parties to try to match people up. It gets to be boring after awhile. I've told Beverly I can find my own dates... to stop putting me in these uncomfortable situations. She doesn't listen. Her heart's in the right place I guess."

"Well, I don't understand why you don't date more. Look at you... every woman in this town is envious of you, your looks, your financial independence. You're one of the prettiest women in the whole area... i bet you haven't been on three dates since dad died two years ago.

"And none of it is your business is it?"

"No, I guess not. Listen, I'm going to Chicago this weekend with my boss. I need to borrow a suitcase. Are they still stored in the basement?"

I didn't wait for an answer... I went to the basement and picked one out.

"Why are you going to Chicago?" she asked when I returned upstairs. "If you're going with your boss it must be a business trip, huh."

"No mom. Actually, were going clothes shopping. Anything you need while I'm there?"

"No, not really. By he way, I stopped in the bank the other day. I thought you might be free for lunch. Your were out... as usual. Anyway, I saw your new boss talking to a client. She looks like a real classy woman... beautiful too. Do you like her?"

"Yes, I really enjoy working for her mom. And I told you before what kind of money I'm making. Everything is going good for me."

Well, I'm happy for you honey. Have a good time in the city. Be careful, okay."

Friday morning Miss Gabriel came by my home early... like six AM. She had a beautiful car... a Mercedes, the interior, all leather, was exquisite.

I had never seen her in anything but business clothes... she was wearing a light blue halter top and shorts. God, she had a stunning body... it was hard to believe that she was still unmarried at thirty years old.

Once we hit the freeway she set the speedometer on 90... I think it stayed there all the way to Chicago. Usually I have a fear of high speeds but, surprisingly, this time it didn't seen to bother me. She was so confident, so adept at handling the car, being afraid just never entered my mind.

Her Condominium was so beautiful... just as she described it. Certainly nothing like it in my world, that's for sure. Top floor in a sky rise, four bedrooms, and floor to ceiling windows on three sides. Huge windows everywhere. What a view, especially overlooking Lake Michigan. No wonder she came back here every weekend, I wondered how she could afford it.

We freshened up while awaiting the doorman to bring up our bags. Wow, a doorman! My God, this was living.

We arrived early enough to take in a fine restaurant for lunch... the food was exquisite. Miss Gabriel ordered for both of us since I admitted to her the menu was foreign to me. She thought that was so cute, so innocent, I thought it was embarrassing. Anyway, it was an excellent lunch, and after a few glasses of wine, it was off to the finest stores in the city.

Shopping with Miss Gabriel was, for lack of a better word, a very strange experience... I was totally intimidated by her attitude. She selected al of the clothes for me, asked asked whether I agreed with her choice, never waiting for an answer. Even stranger, she paid for it all! I tried to tell her I was perfectly capable choosing, and paying, for my own clothes... she insisted this was a bonus for doing such a good job for her.

Consequently, since she was paying, I didn't protest anything she chose. Fortunately, I agreed with everything she picked, I just wasn't sure I could wear any of it in a small conservative town. For the most part, her choices were extremely revealing... and everything she chose was suggestive... especially the short skirts, low cut blouses and sweaters.

I had to admit, I felt like a little girl in a candy store, not a twenty five year old responsible woman. And I was openly embarrassed when she came to the counter with twenty five pair of panties, bra's and hosiery. I actually began giggling... having totally succumb to her generosity.

Another two hours of shopping for sports clothes, shorts, socks and shoes, I think I was nearly in shock... especially being introduced to the privileges of the rich... She simply gave her address to the department manager with delivery instructions... we didn't have to carry a thing!

Leaving the store, we stopped for a quick drink before returning to her car. I never felt so obligated to anyone in my life as I did to her at that moment. I truly believed she had a heart of gold.

We didn't go out for dinner that night... she ordered a pizza sent in. We spent the night sipping wine while I tried on some of my new clothes and, with some prodding, and more wine, I modeled them for her. Not ever owning clothes so revealing, I was a little embarrassed... thank god the wine numbed my inhibitions.

Saturday morning. The day was beautiful. She had breakfast sent up to the Condo from a restaurant on the first floor! Amazing. Like a hotel.

She wanted to go shopping again. I made her promise she wouldn't buy me any thing else.

Driving thru the city she suddenly remembered something important she wanted to discuss with her father. We changed course and drove to her father's home. It was... it was a mansion! A butler met us at the door!. A butler for gods sake.

She knew my question without my asking. "My father's the majority stock holder and chairman of the bank," she said. "The family also owns an Insurance company among other things. We have a lot of money,"

I now knew why she was so confident when authorizing my large salary. The nagging fear I had that someone from the bank's home office would call one day and say my salary was excessive went away.

Her father, a very young looking middle age man, quite handsome, gave his daughter a big hug and admonished her for not coming by in over 4 months. They excused themselves, going into a large office to talk. I wondered around a large room looking at expensive art... actually, having zero knowledge of art the "expensive" was an assumption. Within thirty minutes we were back on the road to shopping.

She shopped, I watched. I always realized there were clothes this expensive... I never had been exposed to them before. She bought me a blouse, pure silk... so sheer... I didn't have a clue where I could ever wear it. I protested but she purchased it anyway.

That night we went bar hopping. Wearing some of my new clothes, I was extremely self conscious. The feeling didn't last long. By the third club I was tipsy, the first time since high school I had drank this many drinks. It was all so exciting to me, so alive, so exhilarating.

The third club was packed and almost instantly we were separated from each other. Someone put a drink in my hand, then another, and another. I lost track of the drinks. And the guys were not very gentlemanly either... pawing and groping, hitting on me at every turn.

. Suddenly, someone genty tugged at my arm. "Sit down here girl," a young woman shouted. "You look like your lost. These guys will stop bothering you if you're sitting here with me."

"Thanks," I blurted out. "This place is a mad house isn't it."

"Yes, it's always like this, the beautiful woman said. "By the way, are you with anyone?"

"Yes," I shouted above the din. "She's here somewhere. She went off and left me."

"Well she shouldn't leave you by yourself in this place," the stranger said. Especially someone who looks like you. "Would you like to dance?

"What?" I said dumbfounded.

"Would you like to dance?" she repeated.

"With you?"

"Do you here anyone else asking you?" she snapped sarcastically.

Just at that moment Miss Gabriel appeared.

"What are you doing Beverly?" she said coldly to the woman.

"Toni, girl... how have you been?" The beautiful woman asked. Haven't seen you around recently. How have you been?"

"I'm fine Bev... now what have you been telling my friend?"

"Nothing... nothing... You know me Toni... always coming to the rescue of young woman... and she certainly needed rescuing. She looked so lost and... so... so innocent... I had to do the right thing and help her out. You know me Toni, just doing my thing."

"Let's go," Toni said to me as she ignored this Beverly girl. She grabbed me by the arm and led me briskly thru the crowd, out on to the street. Once we were in the car she drove like a maniac. I was drunk I didn't care. I wasn't to drunk however, not to be curious. I had to ask.

"What happened back there?" That's when I noticed... I was slurring my words. "Was she a friend of yours? And why... why did she ask me to dance. I was sort of embarrassed... why would she ask me to dance?

"Don't worry about it," Miss Gabriel ordered. "Just forget it. We'll go back to my place and have a night cap, get a good nights sleep and be on the road by noon. How does that sound?"

"Great," I muttered. I turned my attention the street lights whizzing by... mesmerized by their brilliance.

When we arrived back at the Condo I tried to act sober, carefully walking thru the parking garage without reeling from side to side. Once inside the apartment, I plopped myself down on a barstool at the wet bar. Miss Gabriel, drink in hand, moved over to the long, plush couch.

"Kathy," she said in a low, sultry voice," "Come over here and massage my feet. These shoes are killing me."

Without any forethought I slid off the stool and staggered around to the front of the couch. As ladylike as possible, I knelt on my knee's in front of her. After removing her right shoe I thought it curious that I would wonder how they smelled. Surely nothing about her could be imperfect... I thought it an honor massaging her feet.

"God, that feels so good," she moaned. "Keep it up. You have incredible fingers girl."

As I moved to her left shoe she lifted her leg ever so slightly. "Why don't you take my stockings off Kathy. I think the massage would feel better on my bare skin."

She continued lifting her leg, her short dress hiking further up her thighs. I felt a sudden rush of blood to my face... and... and I'm sure I turned beet red. It was such a precarious position to be in, but... but when I glanced up at her, she appeared unconcerned about her exposure.

I very cautiously reached under the hem of her skirt, fully expecting her to be wearing pantyhose. She wasn't. She had on thigh high nylons, so black in contrast to her milky thighs... I thought it odd I would make that distinction... milky...

As I coiled my fingers under the elastic she emitted a moan. Her legs, parting further, revealed to my riveted eyes, her large mound. So large her panties barely covered it! It was... I never... my god... am I still drunk?

Her panties, slightly creased, appeared to be glued to her slit. I could smell her... not her perfume... her... her sex! It looked so juicy, like a ripe, peeled peach. I had this nasty urge to... to... oh, jesus... to touch her there. How depraved... I vowed to never drink

I quickly slipped her stockings from her legs, refocused on massaging her feet. My heart was pounding, the room becoming uncomfortably warm... I could hardly breath!

With my head lowered and my eyes tightly closed, I concentrated on my task... to massage her feet until she asked me to stop. In my trance like state I felt her foot withdraw from my hand. I didn't move, my eyes remaining closed, my head down. The weight of her legs startled me, one on each of my shoulders, resting on me like a footstool.

I opened my eyes, there, again, barely visible under her dress, the... the peach, covered in silk.

Her feet moved forward, the calves of her legs sliding over my shoulders and down my back... the weight of her legs pulling me forward.

I hardly noticed her fingers entangled in my hair... pulling me to her, her body slipping forward as her legs fell open... wide... wider... I heard her speak.

"See what you've done girl... got me all gooey. Now you're going to have to take care of me."

Instinctively, I tried pulling away... the thought of what she was suggesting was repugnant... did I do something to make her think I was like that!

"Nooooo, please... please Miss Gabriel... how could you ask me to... to... to do that?"

God, I couldn't breath... and I was going to be sick! I staggered to my feet and ran to the bathroom. With my head buried in the commode I vomited, my stomach knotting in pain. I sat there on the floor for ten minutes... the sickness and pain easing a bit.

"How do you feel... are you alright now?" She stood so close I could feel her thighs pressing the back of my head. "Are you going to be alright?" her voice demanding acknowledgement.

"Yes, I'm fine... just too much to drink I think. Maybe I better get some sleep... I'm really tired."

I wanted to forget the last fifteen minutes. I wanted to forget her advances... her expectations of me. I wanted it to be like it was before...

"Sure... sleep, I'm sure that's what you need. And... and you're going to sleep soon. Just as soon as we finish... you know."

"Please... please Miss Gabriel... noooo... no, I'm sorry, I'm not like, you know... like that."

With a cat like quickness she grabbed my head firmly, twisting it till my face was direct between her legs.

"Oh god... please don't... don't do this... I want to go home Miss Gabriel... please... why are you doing this to me?" I'm a good girl... please... please leave me alone."

Her scent filled my nostril's, my lips being forced to touch the wet silk, the tears welling up in my eyes.

Just inches away, a finger pulling the wet silk aside... there, a bulging mound, shaved smoothly... it looked so clean... a moist, reddish slit beckoning. I squirmed, trying to resist as she held my lips to her... oh god, please... this can't be happening to me.

"Smell me slut... sniff my cunt... taste me you fucking little bitch... c'mon... a little taste... I know you're going to like it..."

She held my mouth firmly against her... something was seeping out of her onto my lips... her thighs so warm... touching my cheeks... just a taste...

Never, in my wildest imagination, would I ever do this... even think of it. It must have been instinct sending my tongue... just one lick... just one... just to see... licking... licking her moist crack.

"Yes, that's it you slut bitch. Suck me baby. Suck my cunt... oh, you goddamn slut. God your good, so good at this... where'd you learn slit licking... ohhh, so good... that's it... oh you sexy slut."

The loathing I felt myself for what I was doing... but... but I couldn't... couldn't stop, I... I suddenly wanted to please her... God, I loved the aroma... the smelly... smelly...

Her hips began to undulate, humping my face... my lips... my tongue... this woman standing over me like I was... was... was there for her pleasure... using my tongue, my mouth to satisfy her lust.

Her hands weren't holding me to her any more... I was free... no, no I wasn't. My lips glued to her large, swollen mound. It felt so comfortable, so safe, on my knee's, serving her. Oh god, please let me make her happy... please.

And then she came... driving that luscious gash around my aching tongue... fucking me, my face... so good. Her scream... her scream was my pleasure...

"I'm cummmmmmmmmmiiiiiiiiinggggggggggg,' she screamed out... her body, unrestrained, slammed my lips uncontrollably, finally reduced to a quivering, gushing fountain of cum... so exquisite... filling my soft, virgin mouth.

I consciously stopped licking her... her body fell limp... I thought it was over. My own body... God, I was on fire. I didn't know what to do... the cold bathroom floor did nothing to cool off the heat between my legs.

I looked up from the floor into her face. She had a look of triumph... and disdain. A feeling of shame and humiliation washed over me. The reality of what I had just done... sex with another woman, and in the bathroom. What could be more degrading!

She stepped over me and sat down on the commode. Spreading her legs suggestively, she let me know she wasn't done with me...

"You're not done cunt... not until you've cleaned me".

I hesitated for a moment, then slowly crawled to her... obediently... burying my face between her thighs again. Juices still oozed from her slit, running down into the crack of her ass. She raised one leg, leaving no doubt as to what she wanted me to do I held my breath... dipping my tongue into the crevice of her ass... the bitter taste creating more lust in me than I could ever imagine.

"You liked licking my cunt didn't you Kathy. I want to hear you say it."

It was an uncomfortable moment. I didn't know what to say... didn't she realize I had just committed an act I considered so depraved I felt dirty... defiled... even abused. Why did I crave to gratify myself?"

"Forget it... you don't have to admit it. What's important... you performed like you liked it. I knew you were going to be my slut the first day I laid eyes on you."

She pushed me away..."I'm tired and we have a two hour trip tomorrow. I'm going to bed."

She left the bathroom... left me sitting on the floor.

"Oh, I almost forgot."

She startled me when when she returned, standing at the door.

"Listen, I don't want you masturbating Kathy. I want you to go straight to bed. No playing with yourself. Is that understood?"

"Yes Miss Gabriel," I whispered meekly.

I felt like a child. A twenty five year old woman being sent to bed... and in my heart I knew I would abide by what she said.

I arose from the floor, my legs ached from kneeling and sitting on the floor so long, my body craving for sexual release like I never felt in my life. Obeying her turned me on even more.

We both slept until noon. We packed quietly, making small talk... not mentioning our activities the night before.

An hour into our trip back to Vicksburg she broke the silence. Speaking in that low, sultry voice. "Go ahead Kathy, Go ahead and relieve yourself... you deserve it."

I didn't understand. "Do what... I don't know..."

"Finger yourself. You're dying to cum, I know you are."

I was stunned. "I can't do that Miss Gabriel... I don't need to... I just want to get home."

"I wasn't giving you a choice Kathy... I want to see you do yourself. Don't piss me off... do what I told you to do."

"That's a private thing Miss Gabriel... I just couldn't, you know... this is so embarrassing. Please, I don't want to talk about it."

I could feel the tension... why is she doing this to me.

"Didn't I just tell you to do something. Are you defying me? OR YOU DEFYING ME?"

My face was burning... I didn't understand... why was she being so cruel.

I closed my eyes, slowly slipping my hand under my skirt. I tried to muffle the moan... touching myself suddenly excited me. My fingers touched the crease of my panties. I knew she was watching. Somehow, the thought of her eying me... my god, I'm such a filthy slut.

I spread my legs slightly, my fingers pulling my panties aside. I found my clit, the moans weren't muffled any more. My pussy wept with juices, my fingers causing me so much pleasure.