Chapter 16: Karen's New Job

Karen sat down with me at lunch again. "Why aren't you fucking my mother?" she asked.

I looked up at her in surprise. "Last time you asked if I was fucking your mother, now you want to know why I am not?"

"She needs it so badly," Karen replied. "It's cruel not to help her."

I decided to shift the conversation a little bit. "Did you do anything interesting last night?"

She blushed and lowered her head. Then she looked all around and said, "I can't talk about it here!"

"But we can talk about me fucking your mother?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"So you're not going to tell me about last night?" I asked.

"I..." she started. She looked around and asked, "Do you really want to know what happened?"

I nodded my head.

"Come over after school, and I'll tell you," she said, then she picked up her lunch and went to a different table.

After school, I stopped by to talk to Karen. When I knocked, Cheryl answered the door, then smiled when she saw it was me. She was wearing a white, button down shirt, tied under her breasts and unbuttoned, so that her tits were pushed up and the tops were visible, and a short white skirt barely covering her bottom. When the door closed behind me, I pulled her in for a kiss. When I was done, she didn't want to move away.

"Did you have a nice night, last night?" I asked.

She blushed and said, "It was interesting."

"Is Karen home? I wanted to talk to her."

"Did you do anything to her?" Cheryl asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You'll see," she said. "She's out by the pool."

We walked out to the pool, and I saw what Cheryl meant. I was used to seeing Karen in conservative, one piece bathing suits. Now she was clad in one of Helen's skimpiest bikinis, her white stomach a stark contrast to her tanned arms and legs. When she saw us, she looked extremely nervous, her hands fluttering around her stomach as if to cover it up. She should have been more concerned with her breasts. This suit had to be tight on Helen, and Karen was bigger up top. She was bulging out of it.

"My, my, this is quite a different look for you," I commented.

"Do you like it?" she asked nervously.

I smiled and said, "It's lovely on you, or rather, you are lovely in it."

She smiled and dropped her hands to her side.

I turned to Cheryl and said, "I need to talk to Karen in private. Leave us alone for a bit."

"Sure," she said, starting to move away.

"Oh, Cheryl, I just wanted to say that that is a very nice shirt."

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

"Can I have it?" I asked.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Can I please have your shirt?" I repeated.

She looked confused for just a second, then got a sultry smile on her face. "Certainly," she said, as she slowly undid the knot under her breasts. She arched her back as she slipped it off her arms, then walked up to me and dropped it in my lap.

"Call me if you need anything," she breathed sexily, then strutted into the house, topless, under the gaze of me and her daughter.

"Ready to tell me about yesterday?" I asked Karen, surprising her.

"Um, sure," she said.

"Start with the conversation with your mother," I instructed.

"OK," she began. "It was hard to talk about it, but you told me that I should. I told Mom the same thing that I told you, and she started crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said that she didn't realize that she'd been so unhappy. Then I told her that I thought that I was the same way. She said she understood, so I asked her what she understood; what was she like, how did she feel and did that mean that I was like her?

"She said that she didn't know, but she said she'd try and tell me about her. So she told me that she likes... to be bossed around, I guess. We talked about it, and how she was unhappy because no one but Helen was bossing her around, and she felt bad that Helen was, because she was supposed to be the mother.

"Then I asked if you were bossing her around, and she said yes. I asked if you were having sex with her, and she said no. The funny thing was, she sounded really disappointed. I asked if she wanted to, and she said yes. Well, not like that. She said, 'God, yes!' like if I had asked one of my friends if she wanted to date a rock star.

"I asked her why she liked having you boss her around, and she said that she couldn't answer that, it was just the way she was. She asked if that was what I meant when I said that I was like her, but I said that I wasn't sure."

Karen went quiet for a minute. "You aren't sure if you want to be bossed around?" I asked.

"I just don't know. I know that I don't like bossing people around, but I just try and stay out of people's way."

"How do you feel when people tell you what to do?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Helen, for instance," I replied. "What does it feel like when Helen demands something from you, and you do it?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I guess it feels like I have to."

"Do you get any satisfaction from doing it?" I asked.

"I don't think so. Maybe," she said. I clearly wasn't going to get too far with this line of questioning.

"So why did you ask your mother to let you watch when I fucked her?" I asked.

Karen blushed when I said the word 'fuck', but she just shrugged. "I don't know. It was a spur of the moment thing. I didn't think she'd even take me seriously. I just wondered what it would be like."

"Haven't you ever had your own boyfriend?" I asked.

"No!" she exclaimed. "Boys don't like me!"

"Then they clearly have never seen you in that bikini," I said.

She looked down at herself and blushed.

"If they were to see you like that, they'd be struggling to keep their hands off of you," I said.

"What about you?" she asked.

"What about me what?" I replied.

"Are you struggling to keep your hands off of me?" she asked, looking extremely vulnerable.

"Your mother is inside topless," I said. "I could have her come out here and fuck her right now. And nevertheless, I am desperately struggling to keep my hands off of you. I keep thinking, 'She must look fabulous out of that top.'"

Karen looked at me intently then sat up, reached behind her, and pulled her top off. Her breasts were fabulous. Just slightly smaller than her mother's, with absolutely no sag, and beautiful, light pink nipples.

"If you want me to have a serious conversation with you, you'd better put that top back on, because I sure as hell am not thinking with my big head right now!" I told her.

"What will you do if I don't?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I replied. I had been honest with her, and I wasn't thinking completely rationally.

"Will you punish me? Mom told me that if she misbehaved that she would be punished. Are you going to spank me if I don't put my top back on?"

"Is that what you want? Do you want to be spanked?" I asked seriously.

Her expression became less confident as she said, "I don't know. Aren't you supposed to know what to do?"

I laughed. "You think that I know what I'm doing with your mother? I'm just trying to stay a step ahead of her. I know that she needs more than she is getting, and I'm trying to satisfy that need, but if you think that I know all her deep, dark secrets, and I am going to do everything right, then you are wrong.

"Karen, your mother is submissive, and I know a bit about dealing with that. I can guess how she wants to be dealt with, and I am moving slowly to see what she likes and what she doesn't like. With you, on the other hand, I don't think any of us know what you want, so I'm not sure what to give you."

I sat back and asked her again, "Why do you want to watch me with your mother?"

"I want to see what its like," she told me. "I want to know what it's like for her. For you. I want to figure out if it is what I want, too." She was quiet for a moment, then looked up at me. "I want to see my mother punished."

"You think that I will punish her?" I asked.

"Isn't that why you are going to fuck her in the ass?" she asked, surprised.

I laughed at her. "No, Karen, I am not fucking her in the ass to punish her. I am doing it because she has never had it done, because she sees it as a very subservient notion. She is giving me what she has never given anyone else. I am having her prepare herself so that when we do it, it will be pleasurable for her. In fact, I am thinking of allowing you there, because that will make it more pleasurable for her."

"It will?" she asked.

"Yes, because she doesn't think she wants you there, and she will feel more submissive for allowing it. But what about you? What are you going to be doing while I am taking your mother?"

"What do you mean? Just watching," she said.

"Really? It will be like going to a play. You'll sit in the audience and be able to just watch, unaffected? Shall I get you some popcorn?"

"I don't know," she said. "I guess I never thought it out."

"How did you feel last night?" I asked.

"Last night?" she repeated, with a blush.

"I assume that your mother asked to speak with you in her room last night," I said. "Is that what happened?"

Her blush got redder and she said, "My mother did ask me to come into her room last night."

"And what happened?" I asked. She looked at me, like a deer in headlights, but I just returned her gaze, so she started telling me what happened.

"I had asked my mother whether I could be there when you took her," she began.

"Is that really what you asked her?" I inquired. "Because the way I heard it was a little different."

"I guess that I asked her to find out from you if it was OK for me to be there," she replied.

"Why have her ask me? Why not just ask her?"

"Because she told me that you were in charge. I knew that you would be the one to make the decision," she told me.

"It's not that great a leap, but many people wouldn't have made it," I told her. "I think most people wouldn't have internalized the fact that your mother was not going to make the decisions, especially with someone as young as me. Even though she'd said it, most people would have assumed that she at least had that much control. Why do you think that you got it?"

She just shook her head, but her eyes were on the ground, and I think that she knew the answer. I let her off the hook.

"So what happened after you asked your mother to ask me?" I inquired.

"I guess that she did, because later that night, she called me into her room. She said that she had talked to you, and that you said maybe, but there was a condition." She paused momentarily, then continued. "She said that if I were to see her get... fucked... then I should be able to see her do other things.

"She was wearing a robe, but she dropped it, and she was naked underneath. Her... pussy... was bald. I said, 'Mom! What are you doing!', and she told me that she was following instructions."

She paused again, then looked up at me and asked, "Do I really have to tell you the rest?"

"Are you asking me if I am going to make you tell me the rest?" I asked.

She looked sharply at me and gasped. I glanced down and saw that there was a spot on the front of her bikini bottom. She saw where I was looking and she closed her legs so that it was not visible. She looked up at me and said, "Yes. Do I have to tell you the rest?"

I leaned forward and put my hands on her knees, spreading her legs far enough apart so that I could see the wet spot. I looked into her eyes and said, "Yes, Karen, you must tell me what happened in your mother's bedroom."

She nodded, took a few deep breaths, which incidentally did lovely things to her naked chest, and continued. "Mom laid down on the bed and pulled some things out from under her pillow. She spread her legs and I asked why she was bald down there. She said, 'Because Jake told me that's what he likes.'"

She looked at me again, her legs spreading a little farther and asked, "Is that really what you like?"

"Yes, it is. Is that a problem for you?" I asked.

She looked at me, then with another deep breath, she stood up and pushed her bikini bottoms down. She sat back down and looked at me with a determined expression on her face as she spread her legs to where they were before. I glanced down and saw her moist, pink lips, and surrounding them, smooth skin, as hairless as the day that she was born.