                           Surrendering Sarah
                             by Night Writer



                                Chapter 6

We spent the next day trying to put our life back together. Every piece 
of clothing we had was gone. I searched through stacks of cartons in 
the basement, finally finding an old T-shirt and shorts that had been 
used as cleaning rags. I looked like a vagrant, but they would have to
do. 

Sarah had nothing at all to wear, so my day would be spent shopping for 
clothes for the two of us. I scribbled some quick notes before I left 
to be sure I remembered her sizes, and what styles and colors she 
preferred.

"I have to have some tops with my new name on them, pink ones." 

I froze and stared at her. She still looked dazed and confused.

"Sarah, what do you mean? You can't be serious."

"Rock said I should be proud of my new name. He wants me to show 
everyone how much I like it. He gave me this shopping list so Barbie
can dress like a bimbo all the time. I need some T-shirts that say 
'Barbie' across the front, in big letters, so everyone knows my new 
name. Get them a size too small, so my tits make the letters stand out
more."

"Honey, there's a limit to what we can get away with. Even Rock must 
understand that. I can't let you humiliate yourself in public dressed
like that. People we know will see you. What will you tell them?"

My reasoning seemed to reach her. Her expression changed, and the Sarah
I knew began to cry.

"I don't know what I'm going to do! What will I say to our friends, or
the people at work? Rock says I have to be 'Barbie the Bimbo' twenty-
four hours a day, until he tells me I can stop. If I don't dress and 
act the way he wants, he'll hurt us, or worse. Look what his gang has 
done to our home! They left us with a few sticks of furniture and a 
cum-soaked bed. You don't know what he can be like. He's a psychopath,
and his friends are even worse!"

Her sobbing echoed through the empty house.

"We'll find a way - I'll find a way out of this. I've had enough. I'll 
go to the police. He'll sit in prison for a long time for what he's 
done. It'll be OK. I promise."

"Oh fine! Then what will we do? Move? Find new jobs? Change our names? 
They'll find us eventually, wherever we try to hide. If it's not 
Rock, it'll be one of those maniacs he hangs out with. Don't you 
understand? We have no choice! If only you hadn't run over his bike!"

Her last words cut into me like a knife.

"I didn't run over his bike! I just touched it with the bumper! It 
barely moved!"

"Well it doesn't make much difference now, does it? I'm the one who's
paying for it!"

"Oh, and I'm not? I just spent the night taped to a chair with my pants
down while fifty bikers made jokes about the size of my dick!"

"You poor bastard! That's *much* worse than being raped by fifty 
bikers, and having fifty more cum in your mouth! I feel *so* sorry
for you! Just go out and get what I'm supposed to wear so I can play 
'Barbie the Fucktoy' while you sit around and watch!"

I stormed out of the house, tears streaming down my face, and drove to 
the mall. 

When I returned, Rock's now familiar bike was back in our driveway. It
took two trips to carry the bags and packages from Victoria's Secret 
and Frederick's of Hollywood from my trunk to the front door. Rock's 
shopping list had been a long one. I had to take the T-shirts to a 
small kiosk in the middle of the mall to get the lettering applied. 
Rock's note was specific - three were to be labeled 'Barbie', three 
with 'Bimbo', and three more with 'Fucktoy', all in 4" flowery script.
It was an embarrassing day.

I heard Rock chuckling from the bedroom, and reluctantly went to check 
on Sarah. He was lying on the bed, watching Sarah and a hard-bodied 
redhead locked in a deep kiss, as the hot water from the shower created
a cloud of steam that swirled around them. They held each other 
tightly, tongues wrestling, hips grinding fiercely against each other.
She pushed Sarah's face to her breasts, holding her there until she
took the nipple in her mouth, moving her tongue over it until it 
hardened between her lips. She feasted hungrily on both breasts, 
fascinated with the pert mounds of velvety flesh.

"Sport, meet Betty. Looks like Barbie has a new best friend. I brought
Betty along to help clean her up, but once they got in the shower, 
Barbie just couldn't keep her hands off her. Did you know she liked 
redheads?"

Sarah moved lower, her tongue trailing over Betty's belly in large,
slow circles. Suddenly she stopped, looked up at her, and began to beg.

"Please, can Barbie eat your pussy? Can I lick it until you cum?"

Shaking badly, I took a step back, stumbled, and fell. Rock roared with
laughter.

"What's the matter, Sport? You think the view's better down there? Just
stay put. The show's just started!"

I sat on the floor, fearing what Betty's answer would bring.

"My little pet must be hungry. Isn't your tummy still full of cum from
last night?"

"Barbie is Rock's fucktoy. He said I'm a much better cocksucker after
last night. But Barbie needs practice eating pussy. I want to be
a good pussyeater too. I want to be good at everything for Rock.
Please let me lick your pussy. Barbie wants you to cum with her face in
your pussy."

"Hmmm. I don't know. I don't usually let empty-headed bits of fluff 
like you anywhere near my pussy. But, because Rock's my man, and I 
always keep *my* men satisfied, I'll let you eat me, on one condition -
that you make me cum. If you don't, so help me, I'll drag you out into 
the street and rape your asshole with the biggest strap-on I can find.
Well, what are you waiting for, you stupid little cunt - get started!"

Sarah buried her face between the redhead's legs, her tongue racing 
over her swollen labia and clit. Betty's eyes widened as her head fell 
back, her hands now stroking my wife's hair. 

"Oh my God! Ohhhhh! Sweet Jesus! Rock, you really think she needs
practice??? Mmmmm, pet, you have a tongue with a mind of its own."

Rock couldn't resist one of his sick jokes.

"It has to be natural talent, Babe. She's too much of a twit to have 
much of a mind anywhere else!"

It was sickening. Sarah licked and slurped at the redhead's cunt like
she was possessed. The shower rained down on her as she worked, 
plastering her short hair against her head like a drowned rat. Betty 
fell back against the warm tile, now thrusting and grinding against 
Sarah's face. She pulled Sarah's head into her, holding her by the 
hair, until finally she came, thrashing and bucking against her 
battered face.

Rock broke into frantic applause.

"C'mon Sport. Give her a little credit! She finally found something 
she's good at! Give her a hand, now!"

I sat and clapped as Betty pulled Sarah to her feet, holding her 
obscenely in a long, wet kiss. Betty used the only towel to dry 
off, then threw it back into the wet shower. She took Sarah by 
the hand and brought her to us, dazed and soaking wet.

"Rock, I don't think she deserves the name 'Barbie'."

Sarah shot a terrified look at her.

"I think she should wear this for now."

She held up the tiny pink T-shirt that read 'Bimbo' across the front,
then handed it to Sarah. Sarah pulled it over her head without question
and stretched it over her damp breasts. The thin cotton revealed every
detail of her nipples and clung to her belly like a second skin. Her 
firm B-cup breasts strained at the fabric, obscenely emphasizing the 
degrading nickname.

Rock liked what he saw, but was curious.

"Why not 'Barbie', Babe?"

"Look at her tits! Those aren't Barbie tits, *these* are Barbie tits!

She held a perfect C-cup breast in each hand and thrust them at us,
grinning proudly.

"You're right again, Babe. I guess she is too small to be a 'Barbie'."

Sarah stared at Betty's tits with envy, now afraid of disappointing 
Rock, and losing her new name. Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes 
began to tear.

"You know what we have to do, don't you, Betty?"

She grinned back at Rock and nodded.

"Barbie, how would you like a new set of tits, just like Betty's?"

I jumped to my feet, heart pounding like a jackhammer.

"You can't do this! This has gone far enough!"

I took a step toward him, and met his fist with my face. My skull rang
like a bell, and my nose spurted blood everywhere. I didn't even see 
the punch coming. The pain was excruciating.

He just stood over me for a while, shaking his hand lightly.

"Sorry Sport, but you gotta learn to behave yourself. Now Barbie, how 
would you like a pair of tits like Betty's? You'd look at lot more like
a real Barbie. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She was still staring at Betty's breasts. She nodded slowly, then
looked back at Rock like a small, frightened animal.

"But, how, I mean, how would you make them bigger?"

"Now, how do bimbos usually make their tits bigger? You really are a
clueless little bitch, aren't you!"

"You mean, make me have surgery? Please, Rock, I'll do anything at all
for you, I mean anything, but don't make me do this. I hate hospitals.
I've always thought women with implants were. . ."

"What? Bimbos? Barbie bimbos?"

"I guess so, something like that."

"Don't worry, we know a great doctor, the same one who did Betty's. It
looked to me like you thought hers were good enough to eat a little 
while ago! You'll look great!"

Betty circled her, as though she was inspecting a piece of meat. She
stopped in front of Sarah, playing with her breasts through the thin
T-shirt.

"Hmmm. What do you think, Rock? Let's make 'em really huge. No use
doin' it half-assed. She'd be a real cum magnet with a pair of double
Ds!"

Sarah broke away from her and ran to Rock. She fell to her knees,
unzipped his jeans, and slipped her hand inside. 

"Please, Rock, don't do this to me! I'll be a freak! My breasts will be
ruined! I'll suck you, Rock. I'll suck your big cock night and day, as
often as you want. You and your friends can fuck me, too, in front of
my husband if you want. I'll be your fucktoy. I won't even struggle or
fight. I can be very sexy, Rock. You'll see. You can have me any way
you like, and I'll make you believe I want more. I'll make my husband
believe it too. He's jealous because you have such a big, thick cock.
I can make him even more jealous, Rock, if that's what you want. Just
please, pleeease, don't turn me into a freak!!"

She freed his erection and milked it slowly with both hands. Then, 
turning him to give me a better view, she sealed her lips around the
pulsing, rubbery head, all the while keeping her eyes on me. She ran 
her tongue along the soft underside of the big cock filling her mouth.
Drool oozed from around her mouth and dripped onto her breasts, 
darkening the bright pink material stretched over her hard nipples.

He let her finish. She moaned loudly as he shot stream after stream of
thick, salty cum into her waiting mouth. I watched in horror as her 
fingers dug deeper into his ass, her throat welcoming every drop of his
slimy seed. 

Afterward she cleaned him. Her tongue traced every contour of his cock,
leaving it shining with her saliva, her eyes locked on mine as she 
licked and slurped. This wasn't my wife; it was someone, no, something
else. 

Rock grabbed her hair and pulled her to her feet. He eyed her breasts,
still trapped behind the drool and cum-soaked 'Bimbo' on the skin-tight
T-shirt.

"Don't worry your empty little head, Barbie. I think a nice large C-cup
is just the ticket. I never was a tit man. More than a handful is a 
waste anyway. Betty, get her some pants. We have an appointment with 
the doctor."

Betty retrieved a tiny, white pair of shorts from one of the shopping
bags. She offered them to Sarah with a lecherous grin.

"Here you go, Honey. Wrap your pussy in these and lets get going!"

Sarah squeezed into them, but was barely able to stretch them over her 
hips. They left most of her firm ass exposed. The thin material 
instantly slipped into the slit between her legs, molding and 
separating her meaty labia for all to enjoy. She might as well have 
been naked.

They dragged her kicking and screaming from the house. My guts 
churned as I heard her promise Rock more sickening acts of perversion 
than I could have imagined. Then, in an instant, she was gone, 
sandwiched between them on Rock's bike.

I don't remember much about the hour that followed, or the salesman 
that took my money without question. I sat in the basement, stared at
the package for a long time, and finally unwrapped it. It was 
surprisingly light in my hand. I saw Rock's face, the way it looked the
first time he entered our lives, even then grinning like he owned us. 
Then, I imagined that grin fading, as I pulled the trigger of the empty
9mm over and over and over.



                                Chapter 7

A week passed without a word from Rock or Sarah. On Sunday I opened the 
door to find one of Rock's friends holding a small package. He thrust 
it toward me, hitting me in the chest with end of the cardboard box. I 
reached for it and took a step backward, expecting him push by me, or 
to at least tell me where Sarah was, or when she would be back. He just 
stood there and grinned, finally breaking into uncontrollable laughter 
before climbing on his bike and riding away.

Inside, I opened the box to find a letter. It was written by Sarah,
probably with Rock's help, and was stained with streaks of sweat and
beer.


     Dear Husband,
     
     I'm writing to let you know that I've spent the week
     with Rock and his friends, and that I'm doing my best
     to please them. My new tits are perfect, a very full
     c-cup, thanks to Rock and Betty. Rock told me I've
     learned to suck cock so well, and have swallowed so
     much biker cum, that he'd keep his promise not to
     make me a freak with double-d tits. I'm really proud
     of them; now I look just like a Barbie. Even Betty
     agrees. I want you to thank them for my new tits. I 
     have - over and over again. They're so firm and round,
     and bounce just a little when I walk or suck cock.
     They're wonderful - so much better than my old little
     titties. Now I can be a real Barbie and make Rock
     so proud of me.
     
     Last night Rock threw a celebration party for me and
     my new tits. He really is so good to me. He invited
     three more biker clubs to a cookout, and I was the
     guest of honor. The guys ate steaks and drank beer
     while I danced for them. They all loved my new tits
     too. When I got tired and sweaty from dancing, they
     sprayed me with beer from head to toe to cool me off.
     After a while, they even let me drink some; in fact,
     they wouldn't take no for an answer. I guess I drank
     a lot, because I don't remember too much after that.
     Later, Rock let me lie down on a nice soft blanket by
     the fire. He told me how proud he was, and how
     beautiful my face looked, covered with layers and
     layers of beer and cum. I couldn't take my eyes off
     his; it felt so wonderful to please him.
     
     Then, his cock was inside me, stretching me, filling
     me with its own praise. After a while, I couldn't help
     myself. His words, his cock, his strong body sliding
     over my wet belly and thighs; it was just too much,
     and I wanted to please him so badly, to be the Barbie
     he wanted me to be.
     
     Finally, it happened. I'm so sorry Darling, but I lost
     all control. I became Rock's fucktoy, moaning, screaming,
     and thrashing while he buried his fat prick in me until
     he came too, filling me with stream after stream of his
     hot cum.
     
     I'll be home this evening to show you my new Barbie
     tits. I'm sure you'll love them as much as I do. The
     tape is a present from Rock. He knew you would want to
     see my party. I'm so sorry you couldn't be there, but
     Rock said that he wanted me to taste everyone's cum,
     and we all know that you wouldn't even be able to get
     hard, much less cum in my mouth. Rock says your limp
     little dick is wasted on me, and now that I've had
     biker cock, you'll never satisfy me again. It hurts
     when he tells me things like that. I want so much
     for your cock to be big and hard like his. I want
     you to fuck me and make me cum like Rock can. You
     never used to have trouble getting hard. I'm worried
     that you don't find me attractive anymore. Maybe
     when you see my new Barbie tits you'll like my body
     again, and will be able to stay hard long enough to
     make me cum. Rock says I'm a clueless little bitch
     when I say things like this, but I still have some
     hope for you.
     
     Rock wants you to watch the tape before I get home
     so you can see what a good girl I was at my party.
     Please do as he says so he doesn't get angry. He
     promises he can make both of us so much more miserable
     if we don't obey him. I don't want to see you hurt,
     and he's capable of almost anything, as you know.

     I have to go now. Betty's waiting to clean me up so
     I can come home to you. We've showered together every
     day this week. She loves to tie my wrists to the
     showerhead and play with me while the hot water washes
     over us. My nipples get so hard when she sucks on them.
     She slides her vibrator into my pussy, then my ass. I
     never knew that could feel so good. I can't cum for her
     yet like I did with Rock, but I'm really trying hard to
     please her. After the hot water is gone, she unties me
     and lets me lick her pussy until she cums. She says
     watching me on my knees, shivering under the cold
     water while I eat her is my best Barbie trick yet. 


                               Love,

                               Barbie



Had she become the fucktoy Rock had promised to make her, or was Rock 
telling her what to write? I couldn't accept that she had become Barbie
in such a short time. Her letter hinted that she was still Sarah, or 
at least a part of her was, but I still couldn't be sure, even after 
the third read.

The tape was four hours of endless agony. Each scene led to yet another 
that was almost too disgusting to watch. The four hours must have been 
only part of a much longer party, and God knows what the tape didn't 
show. But, Rock would have been sure to include the worst of the worst, 
knowing I would have to watch my wife offer her soft, innocent body to 
more men than most women would have in a lifetime.

It was dark, so dark that the only visible features were those within
twenty feet of the huge bonfire. Sarah stood in front of the raging 
fire, her ankle held by a ten-foot chain anchored to a nearby 
tree trunk. She looked frightened and a little dazed as she waited 
nervously in her tiny, pink "Fucktoy" T-shirt and matching panties. 
Music blared from somewhere in the background, and an unseen crowd of 
bikers began to chant, "Dance, dance, dance!" She did as she was told, 
and I was shocked at the way she thrust her hips suggestively while 
running her hands up and down over her swaying body.

In just minutes the chanting turned to, "Strip, strip, strip!" Without 
the slightest hesitation she pulled the T-shirt up over her head and 
threw it into the crowd. Her new breasts jutted from her chest, two 
hard, round mounds that seemed to defy gravity. Rock hadn't made her a 
double-d cup, but the swollen bubbles of flesh looked far from natural 
on her tall, slim frame. Rock and Betty had succeeded in making her the 
closest thing to a living Barbie that I had ever seen.

She lowered the panties over her hips, letting them slide down her long 
thighs to the ground. She stepped out of them and tossed them into the 
crowd to a sudden burst of cheers and applause. She approached the 
crowd, dancing the best that she could until the chain stopped her. Her 
hands were everywhere - squeezing and twisting her hardened nipples, 
running seductively down over her belly, and finally trailing between 
her legs where two fingers disappeared into the long, narrow slit that 
glistened in the red light of the flames behind her.

Her dancing slowed as she masturbated for the bikers, one hand still 
caressing her new breasts. The crowd was in a frenzy by the time Rock 
appeared beside her. They hushed as he raised both hands to quiet 
them. He turned to Sarah and waited. She stopped and returned a look of 
sober uncertainty. Rock grinned and waited, until his patience grew 
thin.

"Well? What do you say to greet a biker, Barbie? Come on, you cum-
hungry little slut, use that empty head for something other than a
sperm bucket!"

I could see the humiliation in her eyes as she finally understood.

"Please Rock, may I drink your cum?"

"What? Just my cum? That's not very polite, Barbie. What about your 
guests?"

She turned her head slowly, taking in the surrounding mass of over one 
hundred men, now more hungry for Barbie than steak. Her lower lip 
trembled, and she had to try twice to get the words out.

"P-Please let me drink everyone's cum."

The crowd went wild with cheers while the men closest to her fought to 
get to her waiting mouth, their bobbing erections closing in on 
her in a tight circle. I saw her take an immense penis in her mouth 
just before she disappeared behind a wall of eager volunteers and the 
scene faded to black.

The next scene was horrifying. The fire had died a bit, but Sarah was 
still chained in front of it, now alone on her knees, sobbing quietly. 
Her face was almost unrecognizable under the thick layer of semen. Her 
shoulders, breasts, and belly were slick and sticky, and globs of cum 
fell from her hair and chin, adding to a small puddle that formed 
slowly on the trampled earth before her. How long had it been? How
many bikers had masturbated into her mouth and face? One hundred or 
more? Impossible. I just couldn't believe it.

Rock appeared next to her and helped her to her feet. He wiped the cum 
from her eyes with both hands, then, grinning, placed his sticky 
fingers on her lips until she sucked them clean.

"Time to dance for your guests again, Barbie. They're getting bored, 
and my parties are never boring."

She stared wildly at him, barely able to stand on her own. 

"Please Rock, I don't think I can. I want to, but I'm so tired. I feel 
like I'm going to be sick. I've never swallowed this much cum before. 
Please don't make me dance again. Please Rock. I just can't."

"You whining little bitch! This is your party! And you don't even 
appreciate it! You really are a stupid bimbo, aren't you? AREN'T YOU?"

The muscles of his face twitched with rage as she cowered and cried.

"Yes Rock, I'm a stupid bimbo! Please don't hurt me! I'm a slut, an 
empty-headed cum-drinking slut. I'm sorry, I'm sooo sorry Rock. I'll do 
it. I'll do it for you, Rock. I'll dance for them. You'll see. I'll 
dance and play with myself and let them do anything they want to me. 
I'll - I'll. . ."

"Now that's my Barbie! We'll clean you off, and you'll be just like new 
again, ok?"

Sarah nodded her head, relieved and shaking.

"C'mon all you freaks! Barbie needs a shower!"

The unruly mob appeared at once out of the darkness, again closing in 
around her. Fifty cans popped at once, as jets of cold beer hit her 
from every angle. She shrieked and covered her face with both hands as 
the freezing spray soaked her, all the while trying to dance for Rock.
He stood there and clapped as the last of the beer dripped from her 
body.

"Nice try Barbie! Now you get to learn a new trick. It's called a 
bottle dance. Now concentrate real hard, Barbie. Here's what you do."

The scene faded again, then returned. The fire burned brighter, its 
flames climbing high into the night sky. Sarah squatted in front of it, 
her naked back welcoming the heat. Rock walked to her, opened a fresh 
Bud long-neck, and set it on the ground under her. Slowly, carefully, 
she lowered herself over the bottle and sank down over the length of 
it, taking the slim neck inside her. Oohs and ahhs escaped the 
captivated crowd as she squatted naked in front of them, impaled on the 
cold glass. She stared straight ahead as if in a trance, then began 
pumping the bottle with short, furious strokes. Soon a thick foam 
poured from her, flowing over her slender hands in a sudden gush. She 
continued to shake the bottle until half the beer had escaped inside 
her, then removed it, brought it to her mouth, and chugged the rest.

By the third bottle, I was shaking violently, barely able to watch the 
degrading spectacle. Sarah was expressionless, her eyes locked 
somewhere in the distance, as another small piece of her was taken, 
used, and discarded. The scene faded after the sixth bottle.

Seconds later, Betty was beside her watching with fascinated amusement. 
Sarah was surrounded by more empty bottles than I could count. No 
longer able to squat over the bottles, she sat in the dirt with legs 
spread, clumsily trying to stuff one more long-neck into her reddened 
slit. Betty reached down and took the bottle from her, now laughing out 
loud.

"Why Barbie, you little slut. I think you're drunk! What would your 
husband say if he saw you like this, trying to fuck beer bottles in the 
the dirt like a sow in heat?"

Sarah lowered her head in shame as beer continued to trickle from her 
swollen pussy onto the ground between her legs. She lost her balance, 
fell to one side, caught her fall with an outstretched arm, and pushed 
herself upright again, now looking up at Betty with tears in her eyes.

"I'm s-s-sorry, Betty. I d-don't feel so good. I-I'm just sooo dizzy. I 
can't -  "

"'I can't, I can't, I can't.' Is that all you know how to say, slut? 
You're dizzy all right. You're dizzy enough to be Barbie's retarded 
sister! How dare you get drunk and ruin Rock's party! You're the 
entertainment, for Christ sake!"

"I'm s-sorry Betty. I'm d-doing the b-best I can. . .but -"

"Quit your blubbering, slut. You'll just have to do something extra now 
to make Rock's party a success. He gets furious when someone fucks up a 
good party. Do you hear me, slut? Answer me!"

"I hear you, Betty. I'll do whatever you want me to. P-please don't 
tell Rock I ruined his party. I'll do anything. . ."

"You're damn right you will."

Betty retrieved the end of the chain from a nearby tree, then moved the 
other end from Sarah's ankle to a thick leather dog collar that she
secured tightly around her neck. She gave the chain a few hard tugs,
then pulled Sarah to her feet.

"Since you seem to like wallowing in the dirt like an animal, you'll be 
my pet cunt for the rest of the evening. Tonight you're a cunt on a 
leash, nothing more. You'll follow me on your hands and knees wherever
I go, do whatever I say, without any whining. Do you understand, 
Cunt?"

"Y-yes Betty. I'll try to be a good cunt for you. I promise."

"Quiet, Cunt! Unless I tell you to speak, a nod of that empty head is 
how you answer. Understand?"

Sarah nodded quickly, trying to focus on her instructions through a 
drunken haze.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get down in the dirt where you 
belong!"

Sarah fell to her knees, choking and gagging when the chain pulled her 
collar tight. Betty chuckled, then let her have enough chain to crawl 
on her hands and knees. Sarah looked up, waiting for her first 
instructions.

"Don't look at me, Cunt! You're only a cunt, remember? Cunts don't have 
faces. Keep your head down, and don't embarrass the guests! 
Understand?"

Sarah lowered her head and nodded, not daring to look away from the 
beer-soaked mud beneath her.

Betty circled her a few times, inspecting her new pet.

"Oh my, Cunt. It looks like you're in heat! Your pussy's so red and 
juicy! Are you in heat, Cunt?"

Sarah nodded enthusiastically, remembering to keep her face lowered.

"Well, my little pet. If you behave, maybe we can find a nice big 
cock for you tonight. Would you like that, Cunt?"

Sarah nodded again as she felt the thick leather collar dig into the 
soft skin beneath it.

"I'll bet you would, you little tramp. But you have to let all those 
big cocks know that you're ready for them. Since you're a poor dumb 
animal, I'll have to teach you how. Listen carefully, Cunt.

"When you're not crawling along in the dirt, I mean each and every time 
we stop to visit a guest, you'll arch your back, spread your legs, and 
hold that wet, ripe pussy in the air, just like an animal in heat 
should. Now, let me see you try it."

And then, like a bitch in heat, Sarah thrust her ass in the air and 
spread her knees as far as she could. Her swollen labia protruded 
obscenely, still moist with beer. Betty had reduced her to less than an 
animal. She was a cunt, and only a cunt. It was a disgusting sight.

"Good, Cunt. Very good! Now for the most important part. Make that 
hungry little pussy move. Open and close it, again and again. C'mon, 
Cunt! Use the same muscles that you use to milk Rock's prick. Tighten 
them, then relax. Let all those big hard cocks out there see what it 
can do to them! That's it! Excellent! Good Cunt!"

Her pussy unfolded, then tightened, over and over, showing its wet, 
pink depths for a few seconds, then hiding them again with plump, 
freshly shaved flesh. How could I have let it come to this? Would Sarah 
ever be the same? Somehow, I had to stop this, before we were both 
changed forever.

The camera followed them as they wandered through the crowd, stopping 
occasionally to film Sarah silently beg for the nearest cock with her 
small, round ass in the air. Few of the bikers could resist. They rode 
her like an animal, humping her as she struggled to stay still and 
quiet. As the word spread, a line formed. Betty stood at the head of 
it, telling each waiting biker how cock-hungry her new pet was, and
that the harder they fucked her, the better she liked it. One of the 
men slammed into her brutally, pushing her face into dirt before 
exploding violently inside her. 

As the last biker buried his cock inside her, Betty knelt beside her,
lifting Sarah's face to look into her eyes.

"Moan a little for me, my pet. Let him know how good his cock feels 
inside you. Moan like you moan for your husband, then moan louder, like 
you moan for a real man."

She began softly, with the familiar little noises I knew all too well. 
Betty moved closer, placing her mouth over Sarah's, stabbing at her 
with her tongue. She kissed her hard and deeply, muffling Sarah's quiet 
moans. Then came the sounds I had never heard before, deep long, 
throaty moans that were more like an animal's than my wife's. They grew 
louder and louder as Betty sucked at Sarah's mouth, and the biker 
plunged into her from behind. Her fragile body rocked back and forth as 
they invaded her from both ends, until the last of the bikers emptied 
his cum into her and left. The scene faded as Betty led her 
away at the end of her leash into the darkness.

The final scene was the worst. The party had become quiet bits of 
conversation here and there by those still sober enough to stay awake. 
The fire had died to a wide circle of glowing embers, releasing a 
column of gray ash and smoke into the night sky. Silhouetted by the red 
glow, Sarah mounted him, guiding the head of his cock between her legs.
She lowered herself on it slowly, until the full length of it was 
buried inside her. Her eyes were locked on his, and the faint light 
showed just enough detail to make out Rock's sickening grin. She began 
to rise and fall on his rigid meat, impaling her slim body with the 
thick shaft of warm flesh that stretched and filled her in ways I never
could. She moved faster, panting and drooling as she fucked him. 
Small little cries that I recognized from our own lovemaking escaped 
her, evenly spaced between gasping breaths. Rock urged her on, 
whispering to her as his gaze paralyzed her. Sarah's words stabbed at 
me from the darkness.

"Oh, Rock...it feels so good...so big and hard inside me...Barbie loves 
your cock...Barbie wants you to cum inside her...Barbie wants you to 
make her cum too...oh God, you're so huge...sooo good, Rock...so 
fucking good...fuck me, Rock...fuck me harder...I'm your 
fucktoy...harder, Rock...please, harder...oh God, you're making me cum, 
Rock...I'm cumming now, Rock. . . "

In a second he was on top of her, pumping and grinding his cock inside 
her heaving belly. Her fingers dug into his ass as she tried to pull 
more of him inside. He grunted sharply as the first jet of semen 
entered her. Sarah moaned one last time, a long, low, guttural tone, 
the sound she had only made looking into my eyes. The scene faded 
slowly as she thrashed and cried, cumming wildly at the end of Rock's
plunging prick.





                               Chapter 8

By eleven o'clock I had given up hope. Then, ten minutes later, the 
doorbell rang. It was Sarah, or what was left of the Sarah I knew. She
stood there in the doorway as if she was unsure whether she had the 
right house. She finally managed a warm smile, and I realized she was 
waiting for me to invite her inside. I was stunned by her new look. The
pink "Barbie" T-shirt had been trimmed to show her long, slim waist, 
leaving just enough material to make sure the now distorted lettering 
was intact. Her new breasts strained against the thin cotton, 
stretching it so tightly that the bottom curve of each hard ball of 
flesh peeked from beneath it. White stretch-pants covered her like a 
second skin from waist to ankles. Her hips swayed as she struggled to
keep her balance, poised precariously on the hot pink six-inch 
heels. As she stepped through the door, I noticed the seam down the 
front of her pants had been partially split, just enough to allow her 
plump labia to escape when her legs were not pressed tightly together.

Once inside, her smile widened. She walked slowly toward me, greeting 
me with a tight hug. Her lips brushed my ear, her breath hot and sweet
on my neck. She was an inch taller than I in her six-inch heels, 
and the solid flesh of her new breasts felt alien against my chest. Her
hand found the fly of my slacks, and easily worked its way inside, 
milking and rolling my cock with surprising skill. She nibbled my ear, 
while a voice I didn't know oozed from her lips like warm honey.

"Mmmm. That's it. Get it hard for me. I'm sooo hot for it. My pussy's 
so wet. I need you inside me, to fuck me, to make me cum. Ooohhh, yes.
I need a cock in me. Please put your cock in me. Please put your cock 
in Barbie. Barbie will make you cum too. Barbie will be your fucktoy.
Barbie will suck you, drink your cum -  "

I broke free and shoved her away. She fell backwards, falling on her 
ass with her legs in the air, her wet slit glaring at me from between
the pink high heels.

"Stop it! Stop it, Sarah! This has to stop! Can't you see how you're 
acting? You're not Barbie! You're Sarah, my wife! Don't let them do 
this to you! You're home now - you're safe! You don't have to play 
Barbie now! Just be Sarah. Please, please, just be Sarah, my wife. Oh
Christ, what have I done? What have I let them do to you?"

She sat there on the floor watching as I went from rage, to 
helplessness, to utter despair. My hands shook violently, still 
suspended in the air from the sudden push I gave her. She stared at me
with the pathetic look of a confused animal. The tiny pink top had 
released both breasts, now mounted ludicrously on her chest like two 
fleshy grapefruits. 

Her flat belly began to shake. A single tear rolled down her cheek, 
landing in the deep valley between her breasts. She cried harder, 
finally becoming hysterical. I knelt beside her, cradled her head in my
arms, and cried with her. Soon a part of Sarah came back to me, 
defeated and humiliated.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry, Honey. I don't know what happened to me. I was
so exhausted, so drunk, so tired of fighting them - I can't believe I 
did those things. And - oh, God - how could I have let another man make
me cum? How can you ever forgive me? Now you'll never want me again! 
I'm filthy - a filthy slut - just a filthy, filthy slut. . .  "

She ranted on for a while, then quickly collapsed into a deep sleep. 
After carrying her upstairs to bed, I tried to undress her, but the 
clothes clung so tightly to her limp body, that I gave up and tucked 
her in as she was. She never stirred. 

Later that night I found myself back in the basement with a bottle of
my favorite scotch, pouring glass after glass of courage to end this 
nightmare once and for all. 


                                  -*-


I let her sleep the next morning, calling her boss as usual to let him
know Sarah was still under the weather, but would return soon. I didn't
have the same luxury. I owned my own company, and had missed too many 
days over the past week. 

At work, the hours dragged on, until I finally called Sarah at noon. 
She answered in a groggy voice, but sounded more and more like the 
Sarah I knew. I told her I'd be home early and to get some rest. She 
said she'd try. She sounded so small and fragile I felt guilty for 
leaving her alone.

She seemed brighter that evening, more alert and centered than I'd seen
her in a week. She had dinner ready when I stepped through the door, 
and spoke calmly while we ate.

"Rock's leaving town tomorrow. He and his friends are riding to the 
west coast for a while. I don't think he'll bother us again. He said 
we've paid our debt to him. We'll be ok now."

I looked across the table, studying her to make sure she was serious.

"He said that? He said that we're even? He's leaving town?"

"Well, yes. He said that after he had sex with me, and made me, um, 
cum, that there was nothing else left to take from us - and that I 
should name the baby after him. Don't worry, I'm not pregnant! It was 
just his way of leaving us with a final insult. So typical of the slimy
bastard. Anyway, he's gone. Will you be ok?"

"Me? How about you??"

"I don't know. I think we have a lot of things to try to forget. If 
you'll try, I'll try too. We'll take it a day at a time - maybe an hour
at a time, for a while. I still love you. Try to remember that."

She sat there in her white cotton blouse like she had so many other 
nights, trying to be strong for me, trying to reassure me after all she
had been through. But tonight that blouse was fuller, the middle two 
buttons straining to contain the bulging mounds of flesh inside. Some 
things would be harder to forget than others.

After dinner I relaxed under the hot spray of a much-needed shower 
while Sarah called a co-worker to prepare for her return to the office 
the next day. Although a hundred horrors still raced through my mind, 
the relief I felt was exhilarating, and seeing Sarah padding about the 
empty house in a pair of my old slippers, her bright eyes now offering 
hope and forgiveness, brought a new optimism for our recovery and 
future together.

She was still on the phone when I dried off, so I wrapped myself in my 
thick, new robe and decided to catch up on some reading until she 
finished. As I sat on the edge of the bed, a sudden thunk startled me. 
I looked down to see my loaded 9-mm on the floor. I had hidden it under
the mattress the day before, and had forgotten it was there. It was odd
how unfamiliar and menacing it looked lying there, after having spent 
so many intimate hours with it plotting the route to our freedom. I 
pushed it back between the mattress and box springs, planning to 
dispose of it when Sarah wasn't around. No need to scare her.

"Honey, could you come here for a minute?"

I smiled to myself as I left the bedroom, certain that she needed help
with the VCR, or some other gizmo that was my specialty.

Betty and her friends stood just inside the front door. Sarah was 
naked, facing them with her back to me. She knelt between a petite 
blonde's legs, her face buried in her crotch, feverishly licking and 
slurping as the others looked on with approval. Sarah's hands clutched
the girl's thighs as her assault escalated. I could hear the wet, 
sucking sounds from where I stood across the room. Betty grinned and 
winked at me, amused by my surprised look.

"Sport! Nice to see you again! The girls and I just dropped by to see 
if Sarah can go with us tonight. We're celebrating our last night in 
town, a kind of "girls night out". I'm sure you won't mind, will you?
This is my friend Shayla, and her friend Stacey. Oh, sorry, it looks 
like Stacey and Sarah are busy at the moment, getting acquainted and 
all."

Shayla stood to her right. She was six feet six inches of lean, black 
muscle that looked like she meant business. Her long, black leather 
coat opened in the front to reveal a black thong and black leather 
halter that barely contained her huge breasts. A small, gold charm 
dangled from a gold ring that pierced her navel. Cornrows lined her 
perfectly rounded skull, and tangles of black braids woven with multi-
colored beads parted over her shoulders, clattering like tumbling dice
when she turned to sneer at me. She held an elaborately braided leash 
ending at a short loop of chain that was Stacey's collar. She was the 
image of a proud, African princess - with an attitude.

Betty produced a plastic garment bag and offered it to me as Shayla 
watched Sarah with a critical eye.

"We even brought her something nice to wear tonight. I think she 
deserves a better wardrobe than those tacky T-shirts you bought for 
her. She'll look much nicer in this."

I took the heavy bag and stood there in my robe, still in shock.

"Well, sport! The least you can do is help the girl get ready! If you 
can't fuck her, maybe you can dress her. While you're at it, give her a
shower and wash her hair. We want to look hot tonight - all of us!"

Shayla gave Stacey's leash a nasty yank, reeling her in next to her. 
Stacey glanced at Sarah, then allowed a pent-up giggle to escape. 
Shayla exploded, shrieking at Stacey, inches from her face.

"Insolent little bitch! I will not tolerate simple-minded outbursts 
from the likes of you! Explain yourself, Pet, or you'll be very, very 
sorry!"

Stacey couldn't suppress another giggle before continuing.

"It's her! It's her, Mistress!"

Shayla studied Sarah for a few seconds, then returned her attention to 
Stacey.

"Who - is - 'HER'?? Tell me! Now!"

"I'm sorry, Mistress. It's Sarah Breckenridge. I know her from work. 
She's an accountant there. I'm one of her secretaries. It's just that, 
that, well, she's a real bitch. She thinks she's better than all of us.
I just wasn't sure it was her at first. I'm sorry for laughing without 
permission. Please forgive me?"

Shayla and Betty exchanged surprised stares, then broke into roaring 
laughter. Shayla took Stacey's face in her hands and kissed her hard on
the mouth. She seemed to melt in Shayla's hands, pressing her slim, 
white body against yards of hard, brown flesh.

Shayla hugged her as she grinned at Betty over Stacey's shoulder.

"You're forgiven, Pet. Not only are you forgiven, I'll see to it that 
you have a night to remember - for a long, long time."

Her grin widened as Sarah and I trailed off into the bedroom with her 
new clothes.

As we approached the bathroom I heard Sarah muttering to herself in
front of me.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

I stopped and turned her to face me. Her eyes were red and glassy, her
face pale and drawn. She still looked exhausted.

"I'm so sorry, Hon. I wish there was something I could do. Who would 
have guessed that she'd come back for one last night? But it's one 
night, then they're gone for good."

"One night! Don't you understand? I have to go back to work tomorrow! 
It was going to be hard enough explaining my hair and tits, but now I 
have to deal with her! Stacey's the worst gossip in the entire firm. We
didn't get along to start with. The little slacker is always looking 
for ways to get out of doing her job. She'll make my life a living 
hell!"

"Ok, so quit. Don't even go back. You're great at your job. I'll bet 
you can find another one in a week. We'll work it out."

"Work it out? Work it out? That's easy for you to say! I've spent nine 
years clawing my way to the top. Do you have any idea how rare that is 
for a woman in this city? I'll be a partner any day now. And you expect
me to just walk away, start over? I'll tell you what, 'Sport'. Why 
don't you just give up your business and start over? Think you can work
that out?"

She was nearly hysterical, crying and screaming at me at the top of her
voice. Shayla appeared behind us, scowling and clearing her throat.

"I'll tell you what, Sport. If you don't shut her up and get her in the
shower, neither one of you will be able to start over. Allow me to be 
crystal clear. I'm already late for what began as a chance to spend 
some quality time with my friends. I'm a very impatient person. You're
wasting my precious time with your pathetic whining. Get her ready, 
now, before I lose what little control I have left. You have thirty 
minutes. After that, I drag her naked into the street whether she's 
ready or not. Understand?"

She stood there waiting, ebony muscles flexing behind black leather. A
chill ran through me when I realized she planned to watch every minute
of Sarah's grooming.

I adjusted the shower the way Sarah liked it, and helped her in. She 
picked up the soap and began lather it over her arms and shoulders. 
Shayla shouted orders from the doorway.

"Give the soap to him, Sarah! It's his job to clean you. And Sport, get
that robe off, get in there with her, and get started! NOW!"

I dropped the robe on the floor and climbed in beside her. Shayla's 
eyes devoured us as I pulled the shower curtain closed. She was there
in two long strides. The curtain exploded outward as she jerked it 
free, finally tearing the aluminum rod from the wall above us.

"Don't get cute, Sport! Get busy!!"

I moved the soapy wash cloth over Sarah's body, taking humiliating 
instructions from the black amazon. It was the first time I had touched
her new breasts, and I was shocked at how tight and hard they were as I
covered them with a foamy coating of soap. She told me how to wash 
between Sarah's legs, first parting her smooth labia with one hand, 
then rubbing her clit in small, slow circles with the soapy cloth. 
Sarah scowled at me the entire time. The sharp fingers of steamy
water washed tear after tear from her face as Shayla enjoyed every
second of her misery.

I lathered her hair with shampoo, rinsed it, and started over, per 
Shayla's instructions. The familiar handfuls of chestnut brown were now
two-inch strands of jet-black fluff with cinnamon roots. 

I finally led her from the shower, drying her from head to toe as 
Shayla watch every move. She came a few steps closer, fingering and 
parting Sarah's hair.

"Hmmm. This won't do. Not at all. You need something that screams, 'I'm
Barbie, and I'm the fuck of your dreams!'"

She searched through the bottom of the garment bag for a few seconds, 
and retrieved a small plastic bottle.

"This should do the trick. I'll see to it myself."

Twenty minutes later Sarah's ermine hair was a blinding platinum 
blonde. Shayla was proud of her work. She circled Sarah repeatedly, 
running her hands through Sarah's shocking white mane. 

"Now that's Barbie hair! You should wear it longer, though. Men love 
the feel of long, soft hair on their cocks. Why do you wear it so 
short?"

"Rock said it would be easier to wash the cum out of it. He likes it 
this way."

Sarah's tone was defensive, and surprised Shayla.

"Well, Rock's leaving tomorrow, and I don't give a shit how long it 
takes you to get the spunk out of your hair, so you'll wear it longer
from now on, understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

Shayla handed me the plastic garment bag and ordered me to get Sarah 
dressed quickly. Its contents both confused and appalled me. I emptied
the unfamiliar items onto the bed and began to sort them according to 
size. Sarah stood helplessly beside me, too embarrassed to offer any 
assistance. Shayla came to the rescue with her usual blatant 
instructions. I cringed when Sarah modeled the results for us.

The white spandex shorts barely covered her ass, and clung to the inner
folds of her pussy like wet tissue paper. A black fishnet crop-top 
exaggerated the fullness of her new breasts, exposing the long lines of
her narrow waist. White lace gloves ran from fingertips to elbows, and
fluffy white anklets topped her hot pink, six-inch heels. A brief, 
pink, pvc motorcycle jacket and matching pink cap completed the 
outrageous outfit. She couldn't have looked more like a hooker if she
had carried a sign that read "Fuck me!".

Just as they ushered Sarah out the door to the waiting limo, Rock 
arrived. He had been drinking all day, and didn't hesitate to grab 
Sarah, giving her a long, wet kiss. Betty waved him off, telling him it
was "girls night", and that he'd have to catch up with them later, if 
he could find them. Never one to turn down a challenge, he revved his 
bike and started off after them. At the end of the driveway he stopped,
looked back, and motioned me over.

"C'mon Sport! Hop on! Let's go, before we lose them!"

I straddled the jarring machine in my bathrobe, trying to hold on and 
keep the robe closed while he sped after the black limo. We followed it
for thirty minutes, finally stopping in the middle of a cluster of 
warehouses near the waterfront. 

The girls got out and walked fearlessly along the dark street, passing
one dingy, yawning entrance after another, until, rounding a corner 
into a narrow alley, a flickering neon sign glowed ominously in the 
thickening fog. A single figure cast a long shadow on the damp 
concrete. He wore a tuxedo, and seemed oblivious to the rain that had 
just begun to fall. The sign over his head read, "Leather & Lace". He 
stood in front of a heavy steel door, guarding it with his well-muscled
bulk. The girls approached to within twenty feet of the brute, then 
stopped, chattering quietly among themselves. Rock and I jogged to 
catch up to them. We arrived just as they sent Sarah over to him, 
looking every bit the well-oiled sex machine. She strutted like a 
whore, her hips swaying invitingly as the bouncer watched her with a 
contemptuous grin. Everyone waited in hushed anticipation for her to 
reach him. Shayla passed a tiny camcorder to Stacey, who giggled 
quietly while she taped Sarah's every move. The next words we heard 
were Barbie's.

"Hi. I'm Barbie."

He looked her over, eyes stopping on the fishnet top, where her nipples
had worked through the coarse netting.

"I'll bet you are," he laughed. "What can I do for you, Barbie?"

"My friends and I are looking for a party. Can we go in?"

"Well, Barbie, this is a private club. Are you a member?"

She pouted a few seconds, then shook her head.

"I didn't think so. Sorry, if you're not a member, I can't let you in.
Of course, sometimes if a young lady is very nice to me, I can be 
persuaded to make an exception. Can you be very nice to me, Barbie?"

Her eyes widened and she nodded enthusiastically. Then, without another
word, she dropped to her knees in front of him. Opening his fly, 
she searched inside his pants until she pulled his cock free. She
licked the underside of it in one long stroke, starting at his balls,
then continued up to the tip where she eagerly sucked a sticky droplet 
of precum into her mouth. He held her head in both hands, tilting it up
to look into her face.

"Beg, Barbie. Show me how grateful you can be - if you want in, that 
is."

Her voice changed pitch, becoming almost childlike. She whined and 
pleaded like a little girl. His cock grew hard and thick as she ran her
delicate fingers over the length of it, stopping at the base to trace 
lightly over his balls. Stacey's hands shook as she struggled to keep 
the camcorder still, doing her best to capture every word and gesture.

"Please let me suck your cock. It's sooo big and thick. So juicy and 
tasty. Barbie loves cock. I get so wet when my mouth is fucked by a 
huge cock like yours. I'll drink your cum, too. I won't spill a drop, I
promise. Can Barbie suck you now, pleeeease?"

She didn't wait for his answer. Her mouth was full of him seconds after
she ran out of words, sucking and slurping the hard meaty shaft while 
she pumped him with both hands. He came with a long moan, pounding her 
throat with his cock while his strong hands grasped her by short 
strands of platinum hair. She choked when he hit the back of her 
throat, allowing trickles of semen to leak from both corners of her 
mouth. The camcorder whirred as Stacey zoomed in for her closeup.

The bouncer waited until she cleaned him, then helped her to her feet.

"That was ok, Barbie. I've had better, but you get extra points for the
slutty outfit. Tell you what. Sweeten the pot a little and I'll get you
and your friends inside. What do you say to, oh, $200, each?"

"Um, well, I don't have that much cash on me."

She dug into the tiny pink purse, sifting through its contents.

"I-I have this credit card. Will that do?"

He plucked it from her hand, chuckling at her predicament.

"This will do just fine, cutie. Get your friends and let's go inside."

She turned and waved to us with a lacy white glove. Betty was beside 
her before the bouncer opened the door.

"Barbie, aren't you going to thank the nice man?"

He faced her and waited.

"Thank-you for letting me suck your cock. You're cum was delicious."

He looked at Betty, grinned, and raised his eyebrows.

"I don't know where you found her, but they're gonna have a ball with 
her tonight. Follow me, everybody."

Once inside, "Leather & Lace" was worse than I imagined. A live heavy-
metal band assaulted us with the earsplitting whine of guitars from an
elevated stage across the cavernous room. We entered at the balcony 
level where the bouncer swiped our credit card to pay his inflated 
cover charge. As he handed it back to Sarah, I saw his hand cupped 
against her crotch, kneading her pussy through the paper-thin spandex. 
She merely smiled back at him, traced her finger over the front of his 
jeans a few times, and thanked him again. 

Betty led us down the steep stairs to the floor level. The dim interior
was shoulder-to-shoulder with women, all partially dressed, or 
undressed, in the most bizarre collection of costumes I had ever seen 
or imagined. Slashing beams of intense light cut through the darkness 
from above, interrupted only by the intermittent blasts of blinding 
white strobes.

A skinny blonde wearing only a leather collar and black thong 
recognized Shayla and stopped her at the bottom of the stairs. Shayla 
grabbed her collar, pulled her face close, and kissed her brutally.
Betty led us through the crowd, leaving a preoccupied Shayla and her 
friend by the stairs while Stacey stood near them and pouted.

It took us nearly ten minutes to work our way to the bar at the 
opposite end of the room. The stainless steel surface ran the entire 
width of the club, lined with thirsty customers taking advantage of the
wait by pawing and fondling each other as though no one watched or 
cared. Betty and Rock pushed to the front of the line, waving 
frantically at the bartender. Sarah and I were alone for the first time
tonight. I moved a step nearer to her and discreetly took her hand. It 
seemed to startle her. She glanced over at Betty, then looked back at 
me and gently squeezed my hand. After another quick glance at the bar, 
her lips were next to my ear, her words quiet and desperate.

"Help me. Please do something. I'm scared."

For a second, I was plotting again, determined to play her hero, sure 
that I could save her. There must be a way. If only -

Then her tongue was deep in my ear, swirling and sucking, drenching me
with her saliva. I turned with a start to see her grinning at me 
obscenely, licking her bright pink lips, her hand now gripping mine
with all her strength.

"What's the matter, Sport? Don't you like women anymore? Afraid your 
dick won't get hard again? Or is it just me? Don't like my new look? 
Well, what's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

Her voice went from pleading to mocking, then suddenly to frustration 
and anger.

"Damn you, damn you, damn you! What's wrong with you! Are you going to
be a pussy all your life? Look at me! Every man that sees me wants to 
fuck me! All you can do is stand there with your limp dick and watch! 
Why don't you want me? Why, why, why???"

I was stunned. She shoved me repeatedly as she ranted, then unleashed a
flurry of punches, hitting my chest with her small fists. Betty and 
Rock returned carrying our drinks, just in time to witness her 
outburst. Betty took her by the shoulders from behind and pulled her 
away from me.

"What the fuck is going on, Barbie? We've been here all of twenty 
minutes and already you've managed to make a scene! I knew you didn't
have much of a brain, but now I'm wondering whether you have any at 
all!"

Sarah slipped back into her Barbie voice, this time with frightening 
ease.

"He was being mean to me, Betty. He's not nice like the other men - not
nice at all!"

Rock grabbed my robe and pulled me away from them, leading me toward
the bar.

"C'mon Sport. Lets get you out of here before you get in any more 
trouble."

He found two empty stools near the middle of the bar, sat me on one of
them, and handed me a drink.

"It's scotch, Sport - your poison, according to Barbie, right?"

I nodded and took the glass, downing it in two swallows. Rock made sure
it stayed full. The bar tab was added to our bill, now charged to the 
credit card Sarah had given the bouncer. It would be an expensive 
night.

While Betty was showing off Sarah to her friends, Rock pointed to a 
small cage the size of several telephone booths, suspended at the edge 
of the balcony, overlooking the club. A nearly naked young girl gyrated
inside, rocking and grinding her hips to the music. She wore a tiny 
crop-top, identical to Sarah's, and nothing else. After the third 
double, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She leaned back against the 
bars at the rear of the cage, thrusting her hips at us as though she 
was fucking an invisible partner. Her body was slick with sweat and she
panted and groaned like an animal in heat. It was a chilling sight.

Between his usual lewd remarks, Rock leaned closer and opened his hand.

"Here you go, Sport. These will help you make it through the night. 
You'll thank me later."

"What are they?" I asked, eyeing the two purple capsules.

"You don't want to know, Sport. Just shut up and take them. NOW."

I washed them down with a slug of scotch, hoping I could handle 
whatever he had given me. 

"Rock! Lover! I have't seen you in ages!"

A girl in her early twenties ran from behind the bar, jumped into 
Rock's lap, and kissed him for what seemed like an eternity. Her long,
wavy black hair shimmered over her bare back as she squirmed against
him. Two perfect brown legs led to a pair of tiny cutoffs, now unable
to cover most of her firm, round ass. As she pulled away from him, both
breasts nearly escaped the tiny black halter. She looked over at me and
giggled.

"Who's your friend, and is that a bratwurst under his robe, or is he 
just glad to see me?"

"That's Sport. Sport, this is Kathy. And it looks like he's really glad
to see you, babe."

They both laughed and pointed at my lap where, to my embarrassment, my 
erection had slipped through the opening of the robe. Now I had a 
pretty good idea of what the pills were for. I pulled the robe together
to cover myself, but Kathy stopped me and opened it again. She moved in
beside me, rubbing her breasts against my face while running her nails 
slowly up and down the length of my cock. My erection hardened and 
throbbed almost painfully as she played with me. A few of the women on 
either side of us had now gathered around to watch. I was never so 
humiliated, but my penis seemed to have a mind of its own. 

She teased me by stroking it slowly, then circling the head with her 
fingertips, gently pulling and tugging at it until it spasmed and 
jerked wildly. Then she stopped, and women around us joked about what a
slut I was for allowing them to play with me in public. Finally, after 
half an hour of torture, she let the other women take turns with me, 
joking with them about who would be the first to make me cum. The drugs
did their work, and by the time a menacing looking bull-dyke had her 
turn, I lost control, spraying semen everywhere. They congratulated the
winner, applauding her skill and my performance. Kathy was ready 
nearby, collecting every drop of cum in a small glass, displaying it 
proudly on the bar.

Rock kept the drinks coming, and after a few more doubles, pointed to 
the second cage, which until now had been empty. I watched as Betty 
helped Sarah inside. A small spotlight drew everyone's attention to the
balcony where Sarah surveyed the crowd from twenty feet overhead. Betty
had taken the white shorts and pink jacket, leaving her only the flimsy
net top, pink high-heels, white gloves, and shocking pink motorcycle 
cap.

Betty barked at her from outside the cage, and she began to dance, 
slowly at first, then mimicking the other dancer as Betty ordered her 
to follow the other girl's seductive grinding and thrusting. Betty 
urged her on, becoming more threatening when Sarah hesitated to rub her
cunt up and down over one of the thin chrome bars closest to the 
audience. She relented quickly, burying the vertical rod between her 
reddened labia, then sliding up and down over it as she panted and 
moaned in feigned ecstasy. 

Rock stared and cheered, I drank, and Sarah danced - for hours. A new 
dancer entered the other cage every half-hour, but Betty forced Sarah 
to continue without a break. She was exhausted, her slim body slick 
with sweat as her dancing slowed, now an exercise in futility. 

The crowd parted in front of us, revealing a six-foot circle of blue 
light. At its center was a gleaming steel column topped with a small, 
blinking light. Shayla stood behind it, with Stacey at her side. She 
turned to look at Sarah, now barely able to stay on her feet. Shayla 
shot me an evil grin, extended her well-muscled arm, and pressed the 
blinking button. A deafening clap of recorded thunder shook the club, 
and strobes everywhere shot volleys of blinding light in all 
directions. Sarah's eyes widened. She lurched to the back of the 
cage as the electric current surged from the floor through the cleverly
concealed steel rods in her pink heels. Her slim calves and thighs
hardened and twitched as the voltage shot through her. Its dying tingle
spread upward, between her legs, coaxing her labia and clit to swell
and stiffen. She looked stunned for a few seconds, then danced faster.
Her eyes were wild with panic as the rules of the new game became clear
to her.

Shayla toyed with Sarah for an hour. The crowd cheered and laughed each
time Shayla's finger hovered over the button, making Sarah dance faster
with every last bit of energy she could muster. When her dancing 
slowed, Shayla hit the button again, holding it a few seconds longer. 
Sarah began to cry out as the shocks became more sustained. The muscles
of her thighs bulged with rigid ropes of flesh under the smooth, white 
skin, and her hips bucked and spasmed in continual rhythmic thrusts. 
When Shayla released the button, Betty was there, shouting 
instructions, ordering her to match the other dancer's frenzied moves.

Even with the shocks, Sarah was eventually too tired to do much more 
than shuffle from foot to foot. When Shayla pushed the button, Sarah 
would jerk and twitch until the shock subsided, but her aching muscles
and shattered nerves prevented much of a response at all. 

I watched from my seat at the bar in a drugged and alcoholic stupor. At
times I wasn't sure whether it was a dream or reality. My erection had 
persisted for hours, and I had lost count of how many strange women, 
all lesbians, had teased me until I spurted another stream of semen 
into Kathy's bar-glass. 

Then Shayla came for me. She stood before me like a powerful, mythic 
goddess, her smooth, chocolate skin rippling as she reached for me. I
found a part of me strangely attracted to her intimidating physical 
appearance and proud, forceful air. The other larger part of me was 
scared to death at what might follow.

She led me to the center of the club and peeled the robe off my 
shoulders. My cock wobbled in front of me, still harder than I had ever
seen it. Hundreds of women stared at my nearly naked body, making 
obscene comments about my raging hard-on. 'Humiliated' or 'degraded' 
didn't come close to what I felt, even in my drugged state. Sarah 
stared down at me from her cage. Even through her defeat and 
exhaustion, I sensed her anger and disbelief.

Shayla took my hand and held my palm in the air, an inch above the 
button. Sarah's eyes widened, then shaking her head, she begged me with
every once of breath that remained.

"Nooo! Please, please, nooooo!"

At Shayla's signal, Stacey knelt beside me, taking my cock in her hand.
She played with it like a new toy, amusing herself by exploring each 
vein and ridge with her sharp nails. My legs began to shudder as I 
tried with everything I had not to give in to her touch. Sarah was 
shaking so badly that the cage rattled, while tears streamed from her 
drawn face to the floor below.

Shayla held my shoulders from behind, whispering my instructions as 
Stacey stroked my balls, then traced wandering patterns up and down the
underside of my cock with the tip of her finger. I had reached a line I
couldn't cross, under any circumstances. I wouldn't do it. When I told 
her, she replied in an instant, hissing her threat at me.

"You WILL do it! If you don't, I'll turn up the juice and fry the 
little cunt myself!" 

As her last word hit me, Stacey pumped my cock with both hands, 
catching me by surprise. I came with a muffled groan, watching the cum 
spurt into Stacey's hands. My palm fell against the button, holding it 
until the crushing orgasm subsided. Sarah thrashed against the bars of 
the cage, unable to escape the endless, burning shock. She cried out to
me, begging me to stop. Her piercing screams grew louder with 
nightmarish intensity as I lost myself in Stacey's skillful victory 
over me. Hidden in the waves of satisfying release, under the guilt and
shame for being the cause of Sarah's pain, buried so deeply that to 
find it would mean our destruction, I wanted to push that button. I 
wanted to see her suffer for the self-doubt she nurtured in me. How 
sick had I become? It was Rock's doing. Soon it would be my turn to 
undo it.

Afterward, Sarah lay panting on the cage floor. I could just make out 
her bewildered eyes peering over the edge, terrified of another shock.
Stacey wiped my cock clean, coating her fingers with an even layer of 
sticky semen. She turned and held her hands up for Sarah to see.

"He's mine now, bitch! All mine!"

Sarah's eyes closed and her body went suddenly limp. The crowd cheered,
chanting, "Sta - cey! Sta - cey! Sta - cey!". Stacey turned slowly in 
the blue circle of light, cum-coated hands in the air, relishing the 
crowd's praise, and her victory over her long-time rival.

An hour passed, Betty revived Sarah, and Rock saw to it that my glass 
was always full of scotch. Betty, Sarah, Shayla, and Stacey joined us 
at the bar at 4:00 AM for last call. Sarah was conscious, but seemed to
be in shock. A blank stare was all she could manage when anyone spoke 
to her. She didn't recognize me at all.

Kathy stepped up onto the bar to get the crowd's attention.

"Last call, everybody! But before you go, we owe Barbie one on the 
house for entertaining us tonight. Come on up, Barbie!"

Stacey led her to the edge of the bar, climbing up first, then pulling
Sarah up over the leather padding. The three of them towered over the 
restless sea of women. Sarah stared straight ahead.

"Here's to Barbie and her best friend, Stacey! Drink up, girl!"

She handed the all-too-familiar glass to Stacey. It was now almost 
half-full of cum, with contributions from the bouncer, and anyone who 
happened by the dark warehouses that evening. Stacey held the glass to
Sarah's lips and spoke to her so that everyone could hear.

"Drink, Barbie. It's good. You love cum. It's so thick and salty. It's
your favorite drink, remember? Mmmmmm. Nice and warm, like it's fresh 
out of a big, thick cock."

My stomach churned while I watched Sarah guzzle the slimy mass of semen
as though it was the finest brandy. She smiled sheepishly as the crowd 
applauded, then slowly and deliberately licked the last bit of it from 
her hot-pink lips. Her eyes stopped on me as she scanned the crowd. The
sheepish smile widened, changing to something much more sinister. I 
soon realized she was staring at my cock, still rigid from a second 
dose of Rock's drugs. But it was Barbie who looked down at me from the
bar; it was a hard cock she wanted, any hard cock, and nothing more.

By the time we left Leather & Lace, the rain had slowed to a fine, even
mist. The flickering, blue sign above the door was dark, and the 
bouncer was nowhere to be found. Hours of rain made the long walk back 
to where we had parked seem less ominous. The standing water gave the 
illusion of having washed away the grime and neglect of the decaying 
buildings, and the reflections of occasional signs and streetlights in
the glistening streets seemed to brighten our way.

Soon the black limo was in sight, flanked by the gleaming chrome of 
Rock's bike. Sarah barely kept pace with the rest of us as the fatigue
of hours of dancing made walking in the six-inch heels more difficult 
than ever. Then, as one of her pink spiked heels sank into a patch of 
soft earth, she lurched to one side and disappeared from sight with a 
brief, shrill cry. Everyone stopped, peering over the edge of the road 
into a shallow drainage ditch. Sarah fought desperately as she tried to
get a footing in the wet grass. She nearly escaped the four-foot 
ditch when her left shoe buckled and she fell to the bottom, this time 
sliding a few feet deeper, then falling further into a newly excavated 
pit bordered by two barricades with flashing yellow lights. The six-
foot deep trench held two inches of water from the recent rain, and 
Sarah landed face-down in the muck at the bottom. She tried again and 
again to get up, but her aching arms and legs had only enough strength 
to pull her a few inches above the mud, before falling again face-first
while everyone howled with laughter.

Betty hopped into the ditch, still laughing so hard she couldn't speak.
Every time Sarah tried to pull herself out of the muddy hole, Betty 
placed a booted foot between her shoulder blades, pushing her back into
the mud with a splash. Finally, she rested the sole of her boot on the 
back of Sarah's head, shoving her face into the muddy water and holding
it there. Sarah's arms and legs thrashed wildly as she fought for air.

Rock and Stacey were in tears, now joined by a small group of passing 
dock-workers arriving for the early morning shift. Steaming cups of 
black coffee passed from hand to hand as the men pointed into the pit 
and joked about the way Sarah's nearly naked body twisted and splashed
under Betty's boot.

After having her fun, Betty towed Sarah from the pit. Betty had 
retrieved her shoes, and handed them to Sarah with a grin. Sarah choked
and wheezed as she bent to put them on, giving the workers a show they 
wouldn't soon forget. Rock strolled over to her, tilting her chin up to
him as he looked into her face, now crusty with drying mud.

"Barbie, Barbie, Barbie. You won't find any big cocks down there in 
that mud-hole. Poor Barbie. The only cock you've seen all night has 
been Sport's, and it looks like he's saving that for Stacey. I'll bet
your little pussy has been soaked for hours just waiting for the next
man to shove his meat into you. After all, a real Barbie doesn't feel
like a woman without a fresh load of cum inside her, does she?"

By this time, a much larger group of workers had gathered and stared 
quietly, not believing the scene that played out in front of them. 
Sarah ignored them while she whined and begged.

"I want to be your Barbie, Rock. Please fuck me. Put your big, thick 
cock in me. Fill my pussy with your cum. I need your cock so badly, 
Rock. Please, please make me cum again. Show him how I like it, Rock.
Show him how a real man fucks me. Please, Rock? Pleeease?"

Rock looked over at me and shook his head slowly.

"Man, did you hear that? If my woman talked about me that way, I don't
know what I'd do! How do you put up with this little bimbo, Sport?"

Rock and the other men chuckled as I stood there in my robe, watching
my wife beg him to fuck her. I was frozen in place, paralyzed with 
anger and humiliation. 

Rock looked back at Sarah. She was already fingering her nipples, 
pulling and twisting them into hard, pink buttons. He watched her for a
while, then gave her his answer.

"You know, Barbie, it's been a long night and I'm pretty wasted. I 
think I'll take a rain-check. But I'm sure you can count on this fine 
group of gentlemen to give you what you want. What do you say, guys?"

A low murmur ran through the crowd, followed by the cheers of one 
volunteer after another. Sarah looked stunned.

"No, Rock. Please. I want you! There are so many of them! They might 
hurt Barbie! I want you to fuck me, not them! Don't give me to them, 
Rock! Please don't! I want you - you, Rock!"

Rock's smile vanished and his stare turned icy.

"Stop whining, you little cunt. You're being rude! Go over there, 
give them a good look at your new tits, and tell them what you need. 
Now!"

She turned and started toward them without a word, pulling the brief 
top over her head on the way. Her slim body trembled as she walked. She
stared at the ground, biting her lower lip, as a single large tear 
raced down her cheek.

They circled her like a pack of jackals waiting for the first to 
pounce. She shook off her disappointment and fear in an instant, held 
her head high, thrust her breasts toward them, and allowed Barbie to 
take over. Barbie smiled obscenely, cupping her breasts with both hands
as she teased them with her best Barbie Bimbo voice.

"Hi, guys. I'm Barbie, and I'm ready for a big, thick cock."

A few of the closest men pawed her breasts just before the rest closed 
in and dragged her to the ground. She disappeared into the growing herd
of animals as each brawny thug fought for his share before the others 
consumed her. Stacey kept the camera going as Rock and Betty doubled 
over in hysterics. They were killing her, and Rock was enjoying it. His
deep laugh assaulted me like a relentless pile-driver. And, there was 
that grin - that disgusting grin that had haunted me for much too long. 

Deep in the oversized pocket of my robe, my hand closed around its 
familiar cool, solid contours. Now driven by desperation, fueled with 
the booze and drugs Rock had forced on me himself, I drew the 9-mm, 
pointed it at Rock, and fired.

The impact of the bullet sent him spinning. He fell to the ground, 
clutching his right arm and cursing as the sleeve of his shirt turned 
wet with crimson. Betty screamed and ran to him, frantically trying to 
stop the bleeding. I aimed again carefully, this time placing the sight
dead center on his chest. A sudden warmth rushed over me as I felt the 
pressure of the trigger against my finger for the second time.

The gun jolted upward, but there was no sound. A strong, black arm 
circled my neck. The gun was in Shayla's other hand, now forcing the 
barrel tightly against my ear. Her arm tightened around my neck, 
lifting me until I couldn't breathe.

Rock was furious. He shoved Betty away and started toward me, wincing 
as he clamped his hand over the wound.

"He shot me! The mother-fucker shot me! You think this is bad, you 
fucking wimp? I've taken bullets in places that make this look like a 
scratch!"

He wrenched the gun out of Shayla's hand and jammed the barrel against 
my mouth.

"Suck it, wimp - unless you want me to slide this little beauty up 
Barbie's cunt and pump her full of the last load she'll ever remember."

I opened my mouth. It had an odd metallic taste mixed with the residue 
of burnt powder. He forced the pistol deeper. Searing pain raced 
through my jaw as the nose of the barrel broke a jagged chip from of 
one of my front teeth.

"You fucked up, Sport - big time. You couldn't wait one more night, 
could you? You had to be a hero. I was ready to walk away, to let you 
and the wife go back to your pathetic little lives. I even broke her in
a little for you, not to mention the new tits. You're out of your 
league, Sport - a pussy in a man's world. No wonder she came like a 
whore when I fucked her."

He nodded at Shayla to release me. Keeping two inches of the 9-mm 
buried in my mouth, he backed me to the edge of the ditch. In the 
distance, Sarah and the mob were silent as they watched Rock take his
revenge. Sarah, now Barbie, was expressionless, her eyes staring 
vacantly into the curtain of rain between us that washed the remaining
mud from her exquisite body. 

"I'm gonna enjoy this. Bye, Sport." 

I felt the gun move in my mouth just before the explosion of pain and 
light filled my head. Then, as in a dream, I was falling, away from the
sounds around me, away from Sarah's unfamiliar eyes, away from Rock's 
hideous grin - to a place deeper and darker than Rock could ever have
taken me.





                               Chapter 9

She shuddered at the image in the full-length mirror.  The outfit would 
have been unremarkable, if she had been Stacey.  But, Stacey was a size 
smaller and at least a head shorter.  The pink silk blouse hugged her 
breasts and waist, molding her nipples like a second skin.  Stacey's
black spandex skirt covered only a few inches of thigh and molded 
Sarah's ass into ripe, twin globes.  The absence of pantyhose made her 
feel practically naked. 

"Ummm, you look delicious today, Barbie."

Stacey's face appeared beside hers in the mirror.  They could have 
passed for sisters.  Stacey wore a matching outfit, but on her shorter, 
b-cup figure, it would attract much less attention on Sarah's first day 
back at the office. 

"I know we're going to be best friends from now on, aren't we, Barbie?"

Her hands cupped Sarah's breasts, quickly finding her nipples, rolling 
the hardening buttons between her slender fingers.

"Please Stacey, I - I - can't do this.  I don't understand.  We don't 
even like each other.  Rock may have made me promise to stay with you 
for a while, but we could never be friends.  We're - just, too 
different."

Stacey's eyes brightened as she pulled harder at Sarah's nipples.

"Betcha I can prove you wrong, Barbie.  I think you're more like me 
than you care to admit.  Anyway, just be a good girl at work today.  If 
you're a little slow the first day back, I'll be close by to remind you 
of all the little things I've taught you.  And, of course, there are 
those nasty consequences for Barbies who forget to do what they're 
told.  After all, I'm sure you haven't forgotten last night already - "

"Stacey, please, you have to tell me, is he ok?  I can't seem to 
remember - he looked so, so - "

"So pathetic?  So weak?  So helpless?  Why should you care?  When's the 
last time his cock was hard for you?  When has he shown even the 
slightest hint of concern while you fucked and sucked your way through 
endless gangs of bikers?  He doesn't care about you, Barbie.  He 
probably never has."

Stacey's words triggered a procession of mental images.  They returned 
slowly, painfully, in sequence, like the turning of pages in a worn 
book read by flickering candlelight -

...his erection as it jutted, pink and hard from the open robe...

...the short, powerful jets of his semen, frozen in flashes of harsh
   strobelight as the women brought him to orgasm, again and again...

...the terrible pain as Stacey coaxed the cum from him one last time,
   his open palm smashed against the switch that sent the current
   surging through Sarah's convulsing thighs...

...the embarrassed helplessness on his face when Shayla took his gun 
   away effortlessly, easily lifting his nearly naked body with one
   arm, a haughty predator taking her prey before offering it to her
   young...

...the way Sport had frantically sucked on Rock's gun, his cheeks
   hollowed out, head pumping up and down, terrified that Rock would
   shoot him, willing to give his gun a blow job to live...

...the gun's muzzle torn from his mouth at the last second - the sudden
   vicious blow to his head, blood spurting into the falling rain as
   the steel butt sliced through hair and scalp...

...his drenched, pale body falling lifelessly backward into the
   darkness of the yawning pit.

At the same time, Stacey's relentless words, pushing and prodding
Sarah to relive the worst of that night and to accept and gloat over 
Sport's impotence and defeat, drove her on.

She closed her eyes, no longer able to look at the reflection of what 
she was becoming, but the flashes of recollection only became clearer. 
With the memories, Sarah found that she had reluctantly accepted her 
betrayal.  Then Stacey's lips were on hers, pressing softly, until 
Sarah yielded to her invading kiss.  She felt Stacey's hand brush her 
inner thigh, then settle along the smooth slit between her legs.  
Distorted images assaulted her, now in random order - a frail white 
body, barely visible at the bottom of a dark, murky pit; thick jets of 
cum in slow motion, pumping endlessly from a grotesquely misshapen 
penis; a sea of mocking faces, captured second by second in flash after 
flash of brilliant white light; his face, caught half-way between 
grimace and grin, his cock buried in Stacey's ass; her own nude body, 
hips thrust forward, nipples burning, as she surrendered to the flow of 
current that rose from calf to thigh, then finally into her wet, 
open hole, warming, then boiling the juices that flowed from her. 

She shuddered slightly, hesitated, then collapsed, moaning and 
whimpering into Stacey's embrace. 

"That wasn't so bad, was it, Barbie?  I told you we have a lot in 
common."

Stacey's cutesy smile did not reach her eyes.


                                     -*-


The drive to work was a long one for Sarah.  Stacey lectured her as she 
drove the red Escort through the usual early morning rush.  Sarah sat 
in the passenger seat, afraid to look out the window for fear that 
someone she knew might see them together.  She tugged constantly at the 
tiny skirt, finding it nearly impossible to keep it below the 
transparent, white panties that Stacey had given her to wear. 

"First, a few Barbie basics.  Let's start with something simple, like 
how to walk.  No slouching, and stop walking like a man.  Hold your 
head up, shoulders back; stick those new tits out like you're proud of 
them.  Remember, the first parts of you to enter a room are your 
nipples.  When you walk, cross those legs a bit; put one foot directly 
in front of the other so your hips sway like, well, like the office 
bimbo.  I've seen Hank watch your ass every time you leave his office - 
now leave him with something he'll remember.  And by the way, you're 
much too aloof when he hands you a compliment.  I want you to smile and 
look into his eyes - and every man's eyes for that matter - like he's 
the most fascinating creature you've ever met."

"But Stacey, Hank's an arrogant lech.  He's my only competition for
partner.  He'll think I'm coming on to him!"

"Oh come on Barbie, it won't hurt you to be nice to the guy.  In fact, 
I insist.  You do want to know what's happened to that loser husband of 
yours, don't you?  And I don't imagine leaving a copy of your little 
video from last night on Mr. Burgess' desk would help your career at 
all.  Get my point?"

Last night's distant memories resurfaced and, once again, startled 
Sarah with their sudden clarity.  Until now, she had forgotten the
glimpses of Stacey with video camera in hand, capturing her slutty
performance, and the threat of exposure stunned Sarah.  All composure
lost, Sarah decided to humor Stacey, whatever it took, for the time 
being.

"Now Barbie, when you talk to a man, don't look him in the face for 
more than five seconds without glancing down at his cock.  They love 
that.  Play with your hair a bit.  Lick your lips.  If I don't see Hank 
with a hard-on before the day is over, the video goes to Mr. Burgess.  
I don't care how you do it, but you better find a way by 5:00. 
Understand?"

"But he'll expect me to - "

"To fuck him?  Sure he will.  But you won't.  You have to learn how to 
be Cock-Tease Barbie first.  And you have a lot to learn, so absolutely 
no sex.  Now, who are you today?"

"I'm Cock-Tease Barbie."

"And who's cock are you going to tease all day today?"

"I'm going to tease Hank's big cock and give him an erection all day."

Stacey started to giggle.

"Barbie, you can be such an airhead.  Bimbos like you give guys hard-
ons, not an erections.  Now try again."

"I'm going to tease Hank's big cock," Sarah repeated nearly in tears,
"and give him a hard-on all day."

Stacey nodded at Sarah's "improvement."  Sarah's sigh of relief made 
Stacey chuckle as she parked the car as far away from the building as 
possible.  Sarah understood all too well.  She would have to walk the 
hundred yards with Stacey by her side.  Everyone would see them 
together.  They would see her new clothes and her new look and her new 
walk.  She would have to be Barbie for the rest of the day.

Stacey stopped her as she began to open the car door.

"Wait Barbie.  I have a welcome-back present for you.  It's in the 
glove-box."

Sarah opened the plastic panel and retrieved the present, wrapped in 
pink paper with a small silver bow.

"Open it, Barbie.  Welcome back!"

Reluctantly she peeled back the wrapping to find six boxes of assorted 
condoms.  She cringed as they fell into her lap, then looked at Stacey 
with a puzzled expression.  She had promised, no sex.

Stacey grinned, then laughed out loud at the look on Sarah's face.

"They're a fashion accessory, Barbie.  Part of the Cock-Tease Barbie
set.  Put them in your purse.  Aren't they pretty?"

"Yes, they're very pretty.  I'll put them in my purse now."

Stacey helped her tear the multi-colored strips into single packets, 
then watched as Sarah stuffed the tiny purse with them. 

"Ok Barbie, ready for your first day back?"

"Yes Stacey, I guess so."

"Oh, one more thing before we go in.  How about a kiss for your new 
girlfriend?"

Stacy placed her hand behind Sarah's neck and pulled her close.  The 
lot was teeming with people.  Sarah recognized many of them as they 
passed the car, now heading for her building, her floor.  She resisted 
at first, then gave up and welcomed Stacey's tongue into her mouth.  
She spread her legs without thinking as Stacey's hand trailed over her 
exposed thighs, then up over the plump, fleshy lips of her cunt.  She 
closed her eyes and let a quiet moan escape as Stacey found the stiff, 
slippery nub and rolled it between her thumb and finger.

Then, just as Sarah's hips began to rock, her flat belly tightening 
with each thrust, Stacey leaned on the steering wheel, sounding a long 
blast from the car's horn.  Sarah tried to pull away, but Stacey held 
her by the neck, forcing her tongue deeper into her mouth.  Out of the 
corner of her eye, Sarah noticed a group of passing women stop and 
stare, hands covering their mouths; then shaking their heads with 
disgust, they continued on toward the office building.  One of the 
women glanced back over her shoulder just as Stacey pulled Sarah on top 
of her, holding her by the hair as she sucked at her open mouth.  Sarah 
struggled, now horrified, as she saw Mr. Burgess' executive secretary 
turn away to rejoin her co-workers.


                                  -*-


The morning was a total loss.  Sorting through the pile of work that 
had accumulated while she was gone was bad enough, but Stacey made 
things worse with her constant visits.  When she wasn't sitting on 
Sarah's desk chatting, she flitted in and out of the office, leaving 
another carefully printed note with each pass.  Each small, yellow, 
adhesive-backed slip of paper contained a short request or errand that 
Sarah was required to complete before the day's end.  By noon there 
were a half-dozen clinging to her desktop, with only her lunch hour to 
see to them all.

She sat behind her desk all morning, trying her best not to be seen in 
the tiny skirt.  Hank's interest in her new look was inevitable.  His 
eyes seemed riveted on the shameless display of nipples under the 
snug blouse.  Stacey watched her constantly, making sure her eyes 
dropped to his crotch as she appeared to welcome his crude compliments.
Stacey prompted her from a safe distance, stroking her hair, wetting 
her lips, always there to remind Sarah that Hank's hard-on was her 
first priority.  It was embarrassing at first, but became easier as she 
learned the routine.  Inside, a burgeoning Barbie was even excited by 
it. He obviously wanted her, and his attention filled an emptiness she 
had forgotten existed.  Had she ever realized the empty spot had 
existed?  Did other women feel this way too?  Or was Stacey right?

Hank stopped by her office again at noon and offered to take her to 
lunch.  She nervously declined, using Stacey's errands as an excuse. 

"C'mon Sarah.  I'll give you a lift.  Stacey said you two rode together 
today, so you don't have a car anyway.  I'll be happy to do it."

Stacey appeared in the doorway, smiling and nodding, waving good-bye
with the video cassette she was holding.  Helpless, Sarah twirled a
short strand of platinum hair, looked longingly at Hank's crotch and
accepted with her best "I can't wait to suck your cock" smile.


                                   -*-


Stacey's errands took hours to complete.  It wasn't that Hank's car 
wasn't comfortable; it fit Hank perfectly.  The late model Lincoln 
floated over bumps and potholes without acknowledging them, leaning and 
swaying as it lumbered around turns that Sarah's BMW would have eagerly 
challenged at twice the speed.  Inside, Sarah found more than enough 
room to stretch her bare legs, allowing the tiny skirt to ride up just 
enough to show Hank a glimpse of the thin white panties and the contour
of the long, deep slit beneath them.

At each stop, Hank strolled beside her, grinning, as a constant parade
of men eyed him with envy.  Often, he would drop back a few steps just 
to watch Sarah walk.  She did her best to follow Stacey's instructions.  
Was Stacey following her?  Checking to see if Barbie did as she was 
told?  Crossing her long legs as her hips swayed suggestively, Sarah 
noticed the oncoming men's looks too, and after a while found that 
exaggerating the motion got her even longer stares.  She tossed one 
thigh over the other, hips bobbing, soon not caring that the tiny skirt 
gathered at the very top of her bare thighs.  She was both bewildered 
and humiliated that some dark part of her psyche enjoyed the gawking 
attention.

Stacey's list was an odd mix of mundane and mortifying tasks.  A trip 
to the dry-cleaners to collect Stacey's clothes was followed by a visit 
to an exclusive shoe store across town.  She was to purchase three 
pairs of the highest heels she could find, in black, white, and of 
course, pink.  The young college student that waited on her spent 
almost thirty minutes with his face a few feet from her tiny panties.  
Her skirt was nearly waist-high as she sat in the low chair.  She 
allowed him to slide her feet into pair after pair of outrageous shoes 
until he found a perfect fit.  She caught him staring more than once, 
and after the third or fourth time hoped the dampness between her legs 
had not yet stained the thin material stretched over her gaping slit.  
By the time he was finished, the boy had a raging erection.  He looked 
up at her with a knowing smile, and she gasped suddenly when he stroked 
the back of her calf.  A quick glance at Hank told her he was not at 
all amused.

They spent another thirty minutes finding each carefully described item 
on Stacey's grocery list, then another fifteen minutes in the checkout 
line.  The clerk at the adjacent liquor store was wide-eyed as Sarah 
unloaded a cart full of bottles onto the counter by the register.  
Stacey's list had included enough liquor to open her own bar.  
Hank watched without a word as she checked the list again and paid the 
$1000 total with her credit card.  A handful of condoms fell from her 
purse as she presented the card.  She smiled coyly at the clerk and 
left them behind.

"Um, having a party, Sarah?" Hank asked with a grin.

She licked her pink lips, stroked her hair, glanced down at his cock, 
and asked him to help her to the car with the booze.  She made sure to 
brush by him as he held the door for her.  As her breasts moved lightly 
across his shirt she moved her hips forward, just grazing the front of 
his pants.  He was hard as a rock.

It was almost 2:30 when they found time for lunch.  Hank sweated and 
leered at her as he inhaled a huge sandwich and drank his second beer.  
Sarah ordered per Stacey's instructions - a small salad and three 
Manhattans.  She rarely drank, and by the time they finished it was all 
she could do to stay on her feet.

The last stop required a drive to the south side of the city.  Once 
there, Hank parked the car and followed her into one of the many sex 
shops crowded side-by-side along the narrow street.  He stared in 
wonder at the assortment of bondage paraphernalia displayed on shelf 
after shelf.  He followed Sarah, his mouth agape as he passed under a 
canopy of leather harnesses and restraints that hung ominously from the 
ceiling. 

Sarah approached the clerk and tried to read Stacey's list, but the 
alcohol had her mind reeling.  She gave up and handed the list to the 
old man, remembering to smile and stare at his crotch as she asked for 
his help.  They waited at the counter as he shuffled about the cramped 
shop filling several well-worn grocery bags with merchandise.  Sarah 
felt some relief as she noticed that much of it was obviously not 
intended for her.  Hank winced as he watched the bags filled with 
unfamiliar but frightening items - "cock rings", "ball-stretchers", 
"butt plugs", and an varied array of leather goods made to bind and 
torture male genitalia in ways he could have never imagined.  Sarah 
smiled at Hank, lowered her eyes to his cock, licked her lips, and even 
ran her hand lightly over her right breast beneath the pink silk, but 
to her chagrin, his erection was gone.

It was after 4:00 when they returned to work.  Hank helped her carry 
the bags and cartons to her office, then quickly retreated to try to 
recover what was left of the afternoon.  Stacey had watched them get 
off the elevator.  She stood with two of the other secretaries, all of 
them giggling as Stacey whispered to them.  She appeared in Sarah's 
doorway seconds after Hank's hasty exit.

"Where have you two been, Barbie?  Mr. Burgess has been looking for you 
all afternoon - something about some figures he needs by the end of the 
day.  I hope you had a good time.  Did you get all my stuff?"

Sarah stared at her, boiling beneath a fragile exterior.

"Yes, Stacey.  I found everything," she answered icily.

"Well, I didn't see Hank wearing a big hard cock when he left your 
office.  Were you nice to him, Barbie?"

"Yes, Stacey.  I was very nice to him.  And for the record, he had an 
erection, I mean ... a hard-on, almost all afternoon. It seems he was a 
little squeamish after our last stop.  But of course, you knew that, 
right?"

"Now Barbie, don't blame me if you couldn't get him hard.  You didn't 
have much luck with your husband either, did you?  I don't think you're 
trying.  Be creative.  Be sexy.  Be Barbie.  You have less than an 
hour.  See ya!"

What could she do?  Work was out of the question.  The drinks from her 
late lunch made it impossible to concentrate.  Anger and fear 
overwhelmed her as she sat behind the desk that hid her bare, trembling 
thighs.  A large tear formed at the corner of each eye, threatening to 
combine with a second, then spill over her cheeks, carrying dark 
streaks of eyeliner with them.  Then, she knew what she had to do. 
Barbie knew.

She worked the sheer panties over her hips and let them slide down her 
legs, leaving them on the carpet under her desk.  At 4:45 she was 
leaning against Hank's open door, leering at him, asking for his help.  
By 4:50 he was standing in her office again, watching her from behind 
as she tried to lift one of the cartons of liquor from the floor to her 
desk.  The skirt rose over her ass as she bent at the waist, giving 
Hank an inviting view of her pouting cunt.  Just as Betty had trained 
her, Sarah began to work her cunt open and closed, inviting her 
penetration.  She froze for a few seconds, then looked back at him and 
grinned.  Hank stepped up behind her quickly, his hand cupped between 
her spread legs.  She could feel a finger worm its way into her, 
stroking and rubbing the length of her watery slit.  She studied his 
reflection in the mirrored wall that faced them.  She was still 
repelled by his familiar smirk, the red, puffy cheeks, and drooping 
eyelids.  So why did it feel so good?  Why did she want him to slide 
two fingers, then three, or finally his entire hand inside her?  She 
arched her back, opening her cunt to him, wanting not only his hard-on, 
but a thick, long cock that could fill her to her limit, a cock that 
could stretch her painfully, pound relentlessly into her until the hot 
cum flowed from her like a fountain.

Just as Hank pulled his cock through the open zipper of his slacks, 
Stacey burst through the door with her usual exuberance.

"Hi, guys!  What's up?  Whooops, it looks like Hank's up!  Sorry big 
guy, but we've gotta go!  C'mon Barbie, you two can play tomorrow."


                               -*-


Sarah was shaking, trying to keep her legs together in the small 
Escort.  Stacey gently stroked her thighs with her long nails.  

"Are you still horny, Barbie?"

Sarah groaned.  She couldn't believe the display she had made of 
herself ... and with Hank of all people.  He would tell all of his 
sexist bastard friends at work.  She wanted to finger herself, plunge 
her hand right into her cunt and bring herself off.  But Stacey had 
said No Sex. 

"Yes, Stacey, I'm still horny."

"Who's horny?  And let's hear some details."

Sarah burned beet-red.

"Cock-Tease Barbie is horny.  She spent all day teasing Hank's cock.  
Hank had his finger in her hot pussy.  Barbie wanted him to fuck her 
hard but Barbie is not allowed to have sex with Hank, just tease his 
cock."

"That's right.  You're just a cock-tease for now.  Later, when you're 
so horny that all you can think about all day is big cocks, when you 
stare at guys cocks all the time and look up at their eyes every minute 
or so, when you wiggle your ass because you want some guy to bend you 
over a desk and fuck you, maybe then we can start on a new Barbie game.  
Meanwhile, you just work on your lessons."

Sarah sat sullenly.

"Now pay attention because this is going to be hard for an airhead like 
you to understand," Stacey taunted.  "You see, the reason you love to 
tease cock is because guys' cocks get so hard.  And you love to stare 
at guys' hard cocks because then you can see who has the biggest cock.  
See, you don't want to fuck a guy with a dinky cock.  You want a really 
big one, a cock that rips your cunt up bad.  Only really big cocks can 
make you cum, so you need to keep getting guys' cocks hard until you 
find one big enough to fuck you."

Slowly, Stacey's hidden message dawned on Sarah.  Stacey wanted her to 
make a display of herself with every guy at work until she found the 
one with the biggest cock.  In the meantime, Stacey planned to keep her 
on sexual edge, increasingly frustrated and begging for release.

Sarah remembered the first cock that had made such a lasting impression 
on her, a cock bigger and thicker than any she had ever seen.  Rigid, 
powerful, throbbing with an intricate network of branching veins, its 
image, disembodied, looming enticingly in her mind's eye, refused to 
leave her.  She could almost feel the head of it prying her open, 
stretching and filling her in a way she had never known.  What was it 
Rock had said to her when she had surrendered to him, lost in an orgasm 
so intense she would have sacrificed everything for a few more seconds 
of it?  

"You've always been a fucktoy, Sarah, always hungry for a bigger cock, 
never really satisfied with a puny one.  I can see it in your eyes.  
Let yourself cum, Sarah.  It's what you want.  It's what you've always 
wanted."

She could still see his eyes, dancing with flickering orange highlights 
from the fire behind them.  They faded, now replaced with a familiar 
set of eyes - eyes filled with pain and weakness, pleading with her to 
reject the warm, thick shaft that filled her, to abandon that which 
gave her more pleasure than she could ever have imagined.  She shivered
as Stacey's nails traveled up along her inner thigh.  It was the first 
time she felt pity as she gazed into her husband's eyes.


                                -*-


In the weeks that followed, Sarah found each day more frustrating than 
the last.  Stacey never left her alone for more than a few minutes at a 
time.  The lunch-hour errands Stacey required of her became a daily 
ritual, and since Stacey always drove them to work, she had to ask one 
man after another at the office for transportation.  

The outfits Stacey chose for her became more outrageous each day, so 
she usually had no trouble attracting a different "date" for every 
lunchtime outing.  There was always a opportunity to prance and wiggle 
in front of them, and if that didn't work, a few extra buttons undone 
on an already revealing blouse, or the promising offering of her shaved 
pussy as she bent to recover a dropped condom from her purse always 
made them hard.  

Almost without realizing it, she became fascinated with the variety of 
cock sizes and shapes.  She marveled at how some of the largest men's 
pants barely bulged at all, while a few slender, quiet types she would 
have never looked at twice were excitingly impressive.  She began to 
collect business cards from each of them, scribbling a guess at the 
size of his hard-on on the back of it when she returned.  She arranged 
the cards in neat rows on her desktop, sorted from biggest cock to 
smallest.  Each afternoon when she returned, she re-sorted them based 
on another observation, or when she added a new card.  She could never 
quite decide who was the biggest.  Even when she thought she knew, she 
daydreamed about finding the next cock, one that would be a little 
longer, or just slightly thicker.  

She became the office joke, "a real bimbo" as more than a few of the 
women muttered when Sarah pranced through the office.  Worse yet, there 
never seemed to any time for work.  The long lunches, the three-
Manhattan-buzz afterward, and her growing obsession with finding a 
bigger cock kept her mind occupied the entire day.

Then, just when she thought things couldn't get worse, and her days 
became frighteningly routine, Stacey would find a new and sadistically 
clever way to humiliate her.  The nights were often worse than her 
days.  Stacey toyed with her, kept her on edge for hours while they 
watched X-rated videos of guys with enormous cocks.  One horrible trick 
that Stacy loved drove Sarah crazy.  Stacey would slowly work a long 
slim dildo into Sarah's aching cunt, and then do nothing at all with 
it.  Stacy would play with her nipples and clit, but that hard rod in 
her cunt was there to torment her.  Just when Sarah was nearing a 
tremendous orgasm, Stacy would pull the fake cock out and leave Sarah 
hanging.

Three weeks after Sarah's return to work, Stacey was waiting in her 
office when she stumbled in after what now was a four-drink-minimum 
lunch.  By afternoon, Sarah routinely was in a haze of drunken lust and 
frustration.  Stacey closed the door, grinning at Sarah's unsteady gait 
as she made her way to her desk, wobbling in the hot-pink thigh-high 
boots. 

"Have a nice lunch, Barbie?  I see you got my groceries."

"Yes, Stacey," she answered, while juggling the overfilled bags.

"Who was it this time?  Was his cock big enough?"

"It was Stu, and yes, he has a huge cock."

"You mean st-st-st-stuttering Stu?  From the mailroom?  Barbie, you're 
such a slut."

"You shouldn't make fun of him.  He was nice to me.  Much nicer than 
Hank."

"Well of course.  Hank hates you, now that he's figured out that you 
never intended to fuck him.  So, does Stu go to the top of the list?"

"Stu doesn't have business cards.  But he's. . . "

"No, I guess a mailroom clerk wouldn't."

Stacey smirked as Sarah tore a page from a small notepad, folded it 
until it was the size of a business card, quickly wrote a few lines, 
and placed it above the first row of cards on her desk.

Stacey walked behind the desk and opened the blinds covering the wall 
of windows.  She looked out over the construction site adjacent to 
their building.  The steel framework was already higher than their 
floor, and a swarm of workers in hardhats were busy erecting interior 
walls for the new offices.  

"Oh look, Barbie!  Look at all those big, strong, sweaty guys!  All 
those cocks...I wonder how big they are?  Let's find out.  Wave to 
them, Barbie."

Sarah rose and turned toward the window.  Stacey was right.  It was a 
steamy August day, and the young workers bodies gleamed with a shiny 
layer of sweat.  Their bare chests and thin, lean waists would have 
provided hours of eye-candy for any woman, but Sarah was more 
interested in what they carried between their legs.  Her gaze lingered 
on the tightly stretched denim just below each shallow navel.  She was 
barely conscious of her right hand, now waving furiously at the window.

It didn't take long for a row of the men to assemble along the nearest 
beam, waving and whistling back across the fifty feet that separated 
the buildings.  Sarah's pulse quickened as she waved and smiled back at 
them.  Unconsciously, she was bouncing on tiptoe in her platform heeled
boots, setting her tits ajiggle.

"Strip Barbie.  It's the only way you'll be able to tell which one has 
the biggest cock."

Stacey stood just out of sight, to one side of the windows.  She 
fiddled with the radio, finally tuning it to a local pop station.  
Sarah knew immediately what she was to do, and started to sway in time 
to the music.  She ran her hands over the pink latex micro-dress, 
rubbing her breasts with both hands, then stretched her arms in the air 
over her head.  The slick material worked its way up over her hips, 
exposing her hairless cunt as she gyrated and thrust it at the 
cheering men.  

"The desk, Barbie.  They can't see you're pussy.  Get up on your desk."

Sarah glanced at Stacey and sighed.  Then, as she climbed onto the
large oak desk, a change came over her.  She stood there looking down 
at the growing crowd of construction workers.  She didn't see faces, 
only the hard, tanned torsos and the outlines of more swollen cocks 
than she could count.  A quick tug on the large gold ring opened the 
zipper that ran the length of the tiny dress.  A wiggle and a shrug, 
and she was naked, except for the flashy, pink plastic thigh-high 
boots.  The men let out a howl that could be heard for blocks.  Her 
dancing became wilder.  She used every suggestive gesture she could 
remember, then made up a few of her own.  Her moves became a frenzied 
blur.  She squeezed her tits, pulled and twisted her nipples, grinned 
and drooled as she witnessed the men's responses.  Finally, now no 
longer in control of her own urges, she brought both hands between her 
legs, plunging two fingers inside her while holding her cunt open with 
the other hand.  She wanted, needed, the biggest cock of the bunch.  
But which one?  Who was the biggest?  There were so many.  Frantically, 
her eyes roved the crowd.

Stacey brought her back to reality with an unexpected tug on her right 
boot.  She held a huge cucumber, one item on the long list of produce 
purchased as instructed during Sarah's lunch outing.  

"Show them what you really want, Barbie."

Sarah stared in horror, backing away and shaking her head.

"No, Stacey.  Please, no.  I can't . . . don't make me, please . . ."

Stacey just grinned, offering the massive object to her until she gave 
up and accepted it.  

"Hold it up so they can see it, Barbie."

She raised all ten inches of it in the air, waving it for the men to 
see.  The crowd was larger now, and exploded with cheers.  She saw 
smaller groups of men here and there fighting for the use of a few sets 
of binoculars.

After more of Stacey's threats, Sarah put the end of the cuke between 
her legs and began to push.  It felt gigantic - even bigger 
than she had imagined.  The three-inch diameter stretched her painfully 
at first, but after coating a few inches of it with her juices, she was 
slowly able to bury nearly eight inches of it inside her grasping 
vagina.  She watched the men watching her, imagining the hard presence 
inside her sprouting from one of the sweaty, naked torsos that cheered 
her on.  Her breathing became quicker and deeper as she worked.  It 
felt so good, so big.  Her finger stroked her clit, now slippery and 
engorged to it's full size.  Stacey recognized her frequent 
sideways glances as desperate pleas for permission to finish it, to 
cum in front of her audience.

"You want to cum, don't you, Barbie?"

Sarah couldn't bring herself to say it, but her eyes gave Stacey her 
answer.

"Well, you've been a good Barbie today; if you tell me what you really
want, I let you go ahead."

"I want ... I mean, Cock-Tease Barbie wants to cum in front of all 
these guys so that she'll know who has the totally biggest cock, and 
Barbie can go ask to fuck him."

Stacy nodded.  

"Go ahead, show all the guys just what you want - if their cocks are 
big enough, that is."

Sarah dropped to her knees on the spacious desk.  With a quick sweep of 
her arm she cleared the top of it, sending pens, paperclips, and stacks 
of unfinished paperwork flying.  Then after rolling onto her back, 
pink-booted legs in the air, she found her hungry little clit and went 
to work.

The men with binoculars had the best view.  Her cunt faced them, 
stuffed with the giant cucumber.  One hand held it in place, twisting 
and pumping it in short rapid strokes, while the fingers of her other 
hand danced over her clit like an angry insect.  Her legs formed a 
large V in the air above her, framing her hard breasts and nipples as 
they too pointed at the ceiling, bouncing just a little as her hips 
twisted and jerked.  

She no longer cared that she was naked on her desk at work, 
masturbating for a crowd of strange men.  When she closed her eyes, the 
best and biggest of them was inside her, his immense cock filling her, 
possessing her, as surely as a sturdy lance had skewered her, pinning 
her to the cold, hard oak.  Was it one man or more than one?  Many?  
The face in her mind kept changing.  Only the cock remained the same - 
huge and totally filling.

There was no warning.  She came suddenly and violently.  Her loud moan 
filled the room as one long exhalation of satisfaction.  Minutes later, 
curtains drawn, Stacey tried to calm Sarah down and pull her back 
together.  Sarah continued to clutch both hands against her cunt, 
forcing her fantasy cock deeper, mumbling incoherently.  Stacey stroked 
her hair, planting small kisses over her face, waiting, waiting, until 
Sarah's words fell softly and breathlessly on her waiting ear. 

"No . . . you can't have it . . . I found him . . . it's mine . . . I 
won't let you take it . . . mine . . . all mine . . . all mine . . . "

This time, Stacey's smile lit up her entire face.



                              Chapter 10

It was the kind of Sunday that Sarah and her husband would have enjoyed 
together not long ago.  Now she lay on the large quilt beside 
Stacey, propped up on her elbows, watching the parade of joggers on 
this warm fall afternoon.  Just beyond, the lake sparkled in the mid-
day sun.  An endless procession of lean, tan bodies circled the small 
lake, crowding the narrow path that that ran its circumference, 
disappearing into the wooded park at the far end, only to reappear in 
the distance across the restless water.

A few blades of long, fine grass yielding to a short gust of fall 
air teased her ankle near the edge of the quilt.  Startled, she 
brushed at it, as if to send a fly or some similar pest on its way.  
Now distracted from her daydreams, she turned her attention to Stacey, 
lying on her stomach next to her.  The sky-blue bikini hid little of 
her slim figure, glowing alabaster-white in the afternoon sun.  Turning 
toward her, she gently touched Stacey's cheek with the back of her 
hand, then ran it down her neck to her shoulder where her open palm 
came to rest.  It was now more habit than obedience.  Stacey had 
required it of her weeks ago; the brief but intimate gesture was to 
precede each and every conversation. Whenever they spoke, Sarah kept in 
touch with Stacey's body until they were done.

Stacey's pixie face was turned toward her.  She stirred under Sarah's 
touch, a wide, warm smile growing beneath closed eyes. 

"Mmmm.  Nice."

She reached out, eyes still shut, easily finding Sarah's bare leg. 
Still purring as though half-asleep, she explored the warmth of 
Sarah's inner thigh.  Sarah shuddered, glancing along the path a few 
yards from them as Stacey's fingers lifted the thin nylon and slid 
inside the tiny white jogging shorts.  Her hand tightened on Stacey's 
shoulder as she felt a finger enter her, then trace slow circles 
through the juices pooling between her legs.

Stacey's eyes were open now, peering up at her with teasing curiosity.

"You're sooo wet, Barbie.  Did I catch you filling that empty little 
head with cock fantasies again?"

As usual, Sarah was distracted by the passing joggers.  Half-listening
to Stacey, her eyes were locked on an approaching boy, about sixteen 
she guessed, with an enormous erection that bobbed and wobbled as he 
trotted past them.  He looked down at them and smiled, then winked.  
Sarah was sure she was his target.  She waved back, wiggling her 
fingers and flashing her best Barbie smile.

Flushed, Sarah looked away at the boy departing.

"I think I'll go for a run, Stace.  OK?"

"Behave yourself, Barbie.  No hanky-panky, and don't be too long - I'm 
starting to burn."

Stacey watched her prance along the water, now getting stares from 
everyone she passed.  She had insisted that Sarah slit each leg of her 
tiny shorts to the waistband.  In the bright sunlight her translucent 
tube-top revealed the twin dark circles of her stiffened nipples.  
Stacey found her pink visor in the clearance section of a local toy 
store; it bore a cartoon likeness of the ever-popular doll's pouting 
face just above the Barbie logo, glittering in flowery script that 
could well have been the signature of Barbie herself, assuming Barbie 
could write.  

Stacey closed her eyes, again smiling with satisfaction.  The past 
weeks had been particularly rewarding.  Sarah had worked her way 
through all the men at the office except for Burgess himself.  Each had 
taken his turn escorting her on daily lunch breaks, drooling at the 
chance to succeed where the others had failed.  Those able to sustain 
the most impressive erections were treated to a few heart-pounding 
moments when Sarah would expose her shaved cunt to them, teasing them 
with the promise of burying their "big, thick cocks" in her hungry 
hole.  One by one, they all failed.  Sarah rejected them because Stacey 
demanded it.  Barbie rejected them because even the biggest cocks 
weren't big enough.  

It wasn't long before all of them despised her.  Prolonged frustration 
followed by wounded egos, all in full view of their peers and 
subordinates, made her repeated rejections especially humiliating.  

When they no longer spoke to Sarah, they began to take out their anger 
on the nearest female.  Secretaries, co-workers, clients - none of the 
women escaped the wrath of Barbie's handiwork.  

And of course, the women hated her as well.  They had a headstart.  
Their aversion to Sarah began the first day Barbie entered the office.

Watching the men fawn over her like school-boys in heat didn't help, 
and now further abuse from those same vengeful "bags of testosterone" 
had the women fuming.  Soon they turned on each other.  Petty 
disagreements escalated to heated shouting matches followed by periods 
of sulking while each plotted her own special revenge.  The office was 
in turmoil.  Stacey stood in the midst of it, feigning a shared dismay
at Sarah's disgraceful conduct, savoring each minute of the chaos she 
had so successfully orchestrated.  

Even Stu had abandoned her.  On their second outing, no longer able to 
resist the magnificent arch of meat straining at the front of his 
slacks, she placed a hand in his lap as he drove.  His cock seemed to 
go on forever.  It throbbed in her hand as she milked the entire 
length of it, searching for the tip, guessing its length and girth.  
God, it was sooo entirely huge!  She had to have it.  Sarah was  
dripping wet.  But he had stopped her when she went for his zipper, 
desperate to free her long awaited trophy.  "P-p-please d-d-don't, 
Sarah," he had managed with a worried glance.  "I'm m-m-married - m-m-y 
wife - I just c-c-can't."  Sarah was stunned.  Stacey made things worse 
when Sarah confided in her later that day.  

"I don't understand, Stacey.  Why didn't he want me?  Any of the others 
would have jumped at the chance, married or not."

"Barbie, you poor stupid little thing.  Don't you get it?  What do I 
have to do to make you understand?  Repeat after me, 'Gee, I guess I'm
too dumb to get it.'  Then, ask me to explain it to you.  

"Gee, Stacey, ...uhmm, I guess I'm ...like, so dumb," Sarah stammered,  
"I mean, too dumb.  Could you ... you know, tell me why Stu didn't let
me suck his big cock?"

"I'll say this really slow so that even you can understand.  Guys with 
really big cocks only want to fuck the best Barbies, the drop-dead 
gorgeous ones."

Pulling her in front of the mirrored wall next to her desk, Stacey 
continued to explain while Sarah looked hesitantly at her reflection.

"Big-cocked guys only fuck Barbies with massive, hard tits and nipples.
They only put their cocks inside Barbies with tiny waists and long, 
thin Barbie thighs with that little space between them that screams 
'Fuck me till I cum!'  Just look at yourself.  You're just not a Big-
Cock-Barbie.  You're more Hank's type."

Sarah stared into the mirror at what she had become.  The hot pink 
leotard fit her like a glove from neck to ankles.  She pulled her 
shoulders back, forcing the short, white bolero jacket open as her 
breasts thrust forward against it. Even wearing the heavy, white, 
platform boots, she saw no daylight between her slim thighs.  And she 
had always wished that her waist was a little longer, a bit more 
slender.  

So she dieted - and exercised - half-heartedly at first, then 
religiously.  Stacey was ecstatic each time Sarah asked to go to the 
gym, or grunted her way through another exercise set on the apartment 
floor.  When she picked at a salad each night instead of sharing 
Stacey's deluxe pizza or Chinese take-out, Stacey made a big fuss. 
Sarah lingered over the details of how she might look in the full-
length mirror after one more day of salads and aerobics.  She spent 
hours imagining each new line and curve, each subtle improvement that 
may lead her to a cock worthy of her attention.  'Pretty soon, those 
guys with really big cocks will want me.  I'll be so hot that the 
biggest cocks will fight over me.'  For Sarah, believing that had 
not only become a religion for her, it was salvation. 

But Stacey's favorite pastime was watching Sarah before bed as she 
posed in front of the mirror.  Naked, on tiptoe, she cupped her breasts 
with both hands, trying unsuccessfully to make them appear larger and 
harder than the night before.  Then, still stretching, up on the balls 
of her feet, heels together, she would carefully place a hand between 
her legs, checking for a space wide enough to allow a single, narrow 
finger to bridge the widening gap.  Best of all was watching Sarah's 
disappointment return, the increasing dissatisfaction with her body, 
her developing fantasies of the body she might have that would be 
irresistible, that definitely would command every cock in sight.

Still, even after her best efforts, Sarah remained an outcast at work.  
Now her only lunchtime companions were the young construction workers 
outside her office window. Following up on her desk-top dancing  
sessions, Sarah would mince and wiggle across the street.  She never 
grew tired of sampling them, eagerly climbing aboard one rusty pick-up 
truck after another, obsessed with finding a new cock bigger than the 
last.  None of them objected to her hand in his lap, or to her skillful 
attempts in her quest to bring his cock to its fullest glory.  She 
rewarded those with the biggest cocks by masturbating them as they 
drove. She was fascinated with the way a cock seemed to surge a bit in 
size just before eruption.  Without realizing it, Sarah had come to 
love the moment a big, fat cock spewed its thick contents at her.  Not 
sure whether a hand-job counted as the sex Stacey had forbidden, never 
touching her own steaming cunt, Sarah took no chances, consuming the 
evidence of her research with enthusiastic licks and slurps.  

Today, for the first time, Stacey saw Sarah's obsession spill over into 
the weekend.  In the past, a day away from the office chased Barbie 
back into the shadows.  Even the slightest retreat allowed the familiar 
hint of regret and humiliation to show in Sarah's eyes, and Stacey 
would have to resort to an especially embarrassing punishment.  
Last Sunday she had Sarah loosen the string of her bikini top as she 
finished the last half of her final lap.  Stacey had laughed 
hysterically as the top fluttered to the ground, Sarah's bare breasts 
bouncing, legs pumping madly while she fought to make it back to the 
safety of her towel.  Sarah could feel the burning stares of the other 
runners, but Stacey was quick to remind her that only the men with the 
smallest dicks looked for more than a second or two.  Retrieving her 
top was worse.  Stacey had her go after it when the path was the most 
crowded.  A few of the men stared, but she couldn't avoid the women's 
vicious insults of "stupid slut" and "blonde bimbo".

But today was a milestone.  Sarah's eyes darted from crotch to crotch, 
sizing each thinly concealed prick, making mental notes of which was 
the biggest and thickest.  She flirted with many of them, and was 
rewarded with a few unmistakable hard-ons that poked embarrassingly at 
the front of their jogging shorts.  

Stacey watched with amusement as Sarah made the turn that headed her 
back to their blanket.  The pink sneakers cycled up and down as the 
practiced prance carried her slowly on her way.  Soon she collapsed 
next to Stacey, breathing hard, but smiling brightly.  Stacey grinned 
back in wonder, her eyes drifting lower, away from Sarah's face.  
Beaming with pride and exhilaration, she decided not to even mention 
the thin string of semen that arced shimmering and thread-like over 
Sarah's right shoulder.  

                                   -*-

"Pleeeeease?  Oh, please, please, please?"

Sarah held Stacey lightly by the shoulders, then moved both hands up to 
cup her face, stroking her neck along the way.  Stacey stood a foot 
away, bracing herself against Sarah's whining.  She despised the 
grating sound, even if it did come from a Barbie.

Word came on Monday morning that the firm's potential new client would 
arrive later in the week for final negotiations.  Success would mean a 
promotion to partner for the employee able to demonstrate an image 
aggressive and creative enough to close the deal.  

Sarah continued to beg and whine, hopeful that Stacey would let her 
dress for the occasion.  She met the conservative Japanese executives 
on their last visit and had charmed them with her no-nonsense air and 
easy smile.  She cringed at the thought of having to greet them dressed 
in flaming pink spandex.  Was a navy business suit too much to ask, for 
just two days?

Suddenly, eyes glittering, Stacey gave in.

"Oh, alright, Barbie - if it means that much to you.  But it won't 
matter.  Clothes may make the man, but they won't give a Barbie Bimbo 
the sense to come in out of the rain."

"Oh, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, Stace!"

Sarah took her in her arms, bouncing up and down on tiptoe, continuing 
to thank her like a small child allowed to stay up past her bedtime.  
Stacey rolled her eyes, now thankful she had closed the door to Sarah's 
office.

                                  -*-

Sarah felt like her old self again.  She strutted through the office, 
smug as ever in the sleek Liz Claiborne suit, now confident she could 
recover any ground lost over the past month and reclaim her career.
The morning passed too quickly as she reviewed the lengthy contract, 
but by noon she was buoyed by increasing optimism.  The image in her 
office mirror was a welcome one for a change.  The suit fit as though 
it was made for her - the jacket square shouldered, narrowing to a long 
slim waist, the dark skirt flirting with a few inches of thigh above 
well-sculpted lines of knee and calf.  But the picture wasn't perfect.  
Stacey had insisted on the six-inch heels, although she did allow a 
matching color.  Her platinum hair lay flat and shining along her face, 
now curled under as it followed the line of her jaw.  The jacket bulged 
at the front, her new breasts tight against the tailored silk blouse.  
Stacey was right.  Barbie was still underneath somewhere, straining to 
get out.  Her only hope was that the bit of Barbie that showed might 
appeal to the men, giving her an advantage.

"They'll see right through it.  You know that, don't you?"

Sarah turned from her reflection, meeting Stacey's stare with an angry 
one of her own.

"You can dress the Barbie up in fancy clothes, but you can't disguise 
an empty head.  Do you really think they'll listen to you for more than 
a few seconds?  Every time you open your mouth, all they'll be thinking 
about is how fuckable you are.  But I'll have to admit I agree with 
them.  You're so cute, trying to dress like a respectable business 
woman..."

Stacey crossed the room and put both arms around her waist.  She 
brought her face to within an inch of Sarah's, gazing deeply into her 
eyes, then looked down at the rigid mounds now crushed against her own 
modest breasts.  Sarah eyed the open door warily, but knew better than 
to object to Stacey's advances at a time when she needed to stay on her 
good side.  Her hand found Sarah's breast and palmed it, feeling the 
rising nipple through blouse and bra.  Her voice was a raspy whisper.

"Mmmm.  I could just slip this off you and suck on these for hours.  
Bet I could make you cum.  Don't you think I could make you cum just by 
sucking on your tits?"

"Please, Stacey.  Not today, not now."

"But why not, my little fucktoy?  Don't you want to play with me?  
Don't you love me anymore?  I could make you lose the blouse for your 
precious meeting - let you show the nice men more titty than you 
planned.  This jacket wouldn't hide much."

Stacey plucked at the buttons.  She opened one, then another, and 
finally a third, slowly parting the fabric to expose the inner third of 
both firm spheres.  

In the outer office two women stood and chatted directly in Sarah's 
line of sight.  Both noticed her at nearly the same time, and sneered 
with disgust at Stacey's body, now pressed tightly against hers.

"I-I love you, Stace.  But they're watching us!  Please, any other 
day, Stacey, just not today?  I'll make it up to you.  OK?"

Exasperated, Stacey dropped her arms with an exaggerated sigh.

"Oh, alright Barbie.  Go to your silly little meeting.  But first, 
could you do me a really, really big favor?"

Stacey held the yellow square of paper at arm's length.  The edge stuck 
to her outstretched finger, the list of finely written items barely 
legible from three feet away.

Sarah felt her world caving in about her.  As hard as she tried, as
desperately as she struggled for what little control Stacey had not
yet seized, a tear began to grow at the corner of her eye.

"Pleeease.  The meeting's in an hour!  I'll never get back in time!  
You promised!  You can't do this to me!"

"Come on, Barbie.  It's just a few simple things from that gourmet shop 
we love so much.  I wanted to fix you a nice dinner tonight.  You're 
not going to be ungrateful, are you?  You'll have plenty of time if you 
leave now.  Be a good Barbie.  Bye-bye!"

By 12:05 Sarah was making her way as fast as she could in the six-inch 
heels to the nearby construction site.  She knew better than to ask any 
of the men in the office for a ride these days, and besides, they were 
all busy preparing for the meeting.  

They didn't recognize her at first.  Pink was her color.  But that 
didn't stop them from staring slack-jawed at the slim young woman 
approaching them.  She marched quickly across the makeshift ramps of 
wood as if she knew her way, calf muscles flexing beneath six inches of 
exposed ivory thigh.  Then, when she came close enough to count the 
sparkling beads of sweat racing into waists of their jeans, pooling, 
she knew, in the spaces made between swollen cocks and straining 
zippers, she heard her name passed from one man to another. 

There was little time to waste.  She wiggled her tits, bounced up and 
down on her toes, and waved her best Barbie wave.  

"Hey, guys!  Like, can anybody give me a ride?  Pleeease?"

A tap on the shoulder startled her.  She turned awkwardly, almost 
falling off the plywood into the deeply rutted mud.  Jared stood there 
grinning, hands on his hips, watching her as the plywood shifted 
beneath her heels.  By now he was her favorite.  For a week she sat 
beside him in his Jeep, smitten by his gray eyes, crooked smile, and 
perpetually hard, monstrous cock.  He was mysteriously quiet from the 
start, deep she thought.  He hadn't flinched the first time she stroked 
him through his jeans.  Then, later, when she routinely freed the log 
of warm flesh from his pants, he would keep his eyes on the road and 
grin while she caressed the mushroom-shaped head with her fingertips.  
It was only after he sensed her pleading eyes on him that he came, 
covering her hands with a surging river, thick and white.  Try as she 
might, she never seemed able to make him cum until he was ready, after 
he saw her beg.  

Two younger boys hung back, a yard behind on either side.  Bared to the 
tops of their faded cutoffs, they gawked and elbowed each other, 
peering from behind Jared's sturdy frame.  

"Oh Jared, I'm sooo glad to see you!  I'm really, really late and I 
need a ride downtown to that gourmet shop, you remember the one.  Can 
you take me, now, pleeease?"

The two boys chuckled at her choice of words, and edged closer.  Jared 
smiled his crooked smile and took her hand, helping Sarah off the 
plywood toward a parking lot at the back of the site.  He held 
her hand firmly as they walked, even after they reached the fine gravel 
where the footing was better.  She felt comfortable, protected, just as 
she had with her husband when they first met.  She tried to remember 
when those feelings had left her, but it hadn't happened in an instant, 
or even a day or a week.  She felt safe in the warmth of Jared's large, 
callused hand, and, clinging to those few seductive minutes, put her 
shoulder against his bare arm, never once lowering her eyes to his 
crotch.

The white van sat at the back of the lot, parked well away from the row 
of resting dumptrucks and dozers, their job now nearly done.  Jared 
stopped next to the faded blue lettering on the side door.

"Mine's in the garage today.  We'll have to take the van.  Mind if the 
boys tag along?"

He unlatched the door, leaning hard against it, sliding it open with a 
sudden shove.  Before she could answer, she was pushed inside followed 
by Jared and the boys.  The door slammed shut taking daylight with it.  
The van was filled with mover's quilts and plastic tarps, now more 
visible as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim interior.  The 
sweltering heat robbed her of her breath as she struggled, now tangled 
in the heavy padding.  She was finally on her knees.  Then came the 
sudden burning over her scalp as strong hands grasped her hair, 
snapping her head backward with a vicious yank.  

Jared crouched between her and the windshield.  He was a dark 
silhouette now, without gray eyes or crooked smile.  She felt his 
powerful hands at the sides of her face, then a rough thumb traveling 
over it, finally forcing it's way into her mouth.  His friends held her 
from behind, one by the hair, the other wrapping her wrists tightly 
with a strip of cloth.

"What's the matter, Barbie?  Not in a party mood?  You probably thought 
I'd be satisfied to let you play with my cock for as long as you like, 
then wiggle your ass on over to the next guy when you get bored.  I've 
seen your type before.  The respectable business woman decides she 
needs a few jollies, so she goes slumming - thinks it's so cool to go 
after some real cock for a change instead of that needle-dicked preppie 
crowd she cuddles up to while she's on the clock.  Only you don't fuck 
us, do you Barbie?  You save the pussy for your lawyers and CEOs.  What 
do you think about when they're humping away on that fine little body? 
The money?  Does the money make you cum?  Do you see green when you 
close your eyes and grit your teeth, waiting to slide out from under 
those pasty momma's boys after they whack off inside you?  Well, bitch, 
do you?"

"Please, please, Jared.  You're scaring me.  It's not like that, not at 
all!  I want to, I want to so much.  You don't know how much I've 
wanted you.  But I can't.  I can't explain right now, but I just 
can't!"

"I think you can.  I think it's time you lived out your little fantasy, 
Barbie.  I think it's time you get what you've wanted all along."

His prick was even larger than she remembered, now just inches from her 
face.  He pushed the slick tip against her lips. She welcomed the musky
flavor, sealing her mouth firmly around the shaft as it edged 
forward.  Now she wanted nothing more than to show him how hungry she 
was for him, to devour him with the skills learned from taking hundreds 
of cocks in her mouth.  But her best efforts were useless.  The boys 
held her tightly from behind while Jared clamped her head between his 
huge hands.  She was helpless, unable to move or show her willingness
to give in to him.  He stabbed roughly at her open mouth, never
stopping or allowing her to rest.  She lashed at the head with her
tongue, then worked it along the heavy ridge on the underside, 
drooling long strings of saliva down her chin, onto the silk blouse.  
All feeling drained from her hands as the tightly cinched cloth slowed 
the flow of blood at her wrists.  Her knees burned as the rocking 
motion ground them into the floor of the van.  And she was wet, wetter 
than she had ever been - dripping, sopping between her legs.  If only 
she - someone - could touch her there, put a finger inside her, just 
enough to trigger her release.  Then, with no warning, he came, filling 
her mouth and throat with jets of thick, white cum.  In an instant, her 
own orgasm shook her like a jolt of current, holding her in a brief 
seizure, then racking her with loud moans of relief.  Jared pumped his 
cock deeper into her, forcing the semen she couldn't swallow out of the 
corners of her mouth, down her chin, and onto the shoulders and front
of her tailored suit.

For the next half-hour she gave in to them.  Hands tied, limp and 
willing, she would have tolerated any perversion for a taste of the sex 
forbidden by Stacey for so long.  The two boys took turns at her 
upturned ass as they bent her over a stack of padding.  She heard the 
skirt rip as it bunched about her waist, then the sudden coolness as 
her panties were pulled over the tops of her thighs.  It burned at 
first, but eventually even their brutality made her wet. She watched 
Jared as they sodomized her.  He milked his now flaccid cock, still 
nearly as large as when it filled her mouth.  Slowly, his erection 
returned, almost as if she had willed it back to its jutting, rigid 
state. 

The boys finished quickly, each of them filling her bowels with a load 
of sticky spunk. It leaked from her slowly as they turned her onto her 
back, cooling as it settled in small puddles over the dark skirt.  
Jared appeared between her legs.  Her gaze was fixed on his renewed 
erection as he hovered over her.  It was so huge, so potent, so 
beautiful.  The boys held her ankles, spreading her legs until she 
cried out in pain.  Then, Jared was inside her.  He filled her 
suddenly, in a single, swift thrust.  She gasped, tilting her hips into 
him instinctively.  She struggled to free her hands, still bound behind 
her back.  She wanted to stroke his chest, run her hands along his 
strong arms, explore the rows sharp ridges that crossed his belly.  She 
begged him to free her, promising him anything and everything if he 
would only allow her to show him how much she wanted him.

Instead, Jared's hand closed around her throat as the boys gripped her 
legs, spreading them painfully until her struggling ceased.  Jared's 
grip tightened until she could no longer speak or moan.  Yet, the 
pressure around her neck was strangely exciting.  It made her small and 
helpless in his firm grasp - impaled on his raging prick, her very 
breath controlled by a single powerful hand.  She was a mere 
receptacle, weak and willing, controlled by the lust-driven cravings of 
a savage animal.  

Jared squeezed tighter.  Breath became more difficult for her as his 
came faster and deeper.  Splotches of black danced before her eyes and 
darkness approached from all sides.  Everything she was was between her 
legs now, wet, throbbing, sucking, frantic for just the right touch 
that would bring boiling throes of relief to her fragile body.  She could 
sense it a long way off, building like a tsunami, now closer, closer...

Suddenly, a maddening emptiness between her legs, then a dizzy rush as 
she was lifted by the back of the neck to face the huge head of the 
monster.  It stung her eyes like hot rain, boiling out of his cock, 
running over her like molten lava, finally slowing to rest in the 
creases and valleys of her new suit.  He laughed as he sprayed his cum 
over her, and she burned as her cunt twitched and flowed, searching for 
relief that was not to come.  

They tossed her onto the gravel beside the van, never once looking back 
as they returned to work.  Sarah tried to stand.  Small, jagged stones 
bit into her knees when she fell.  On the third try she was able to 
walk.  She staggered back across the gravel lot and the maze of planks 
leading to her meeting, stopping only long enough to focus on her watch 
through the broken crystal.  She had ten minutes.


