The Misogynist Ch. 05

He played out the string. "I can't talk about this right now. I'll call you back."

Cheryl was absolutely crushed. Turner was the only man she loved, the only man she ever loved, the only man she ever wanted to love. He was about to drop her. She couldn't let that happen. What could she do? She needed help. Who was there? There was no one. No, wait! She'd call Martin. Martin would know. He'd help her. She punched in Martin's number. Martin was her only real hope. He'd save her. He'd help her get Turner back!

Martin was exhausted. He'd taken the red eye to get back home. He picked up his cell, let it ring, and checked the call once it stopped. Shit he thought. Cheryl. He called her back. "Hello Cheryl?"

"Oh thank God I reached you. Martin I need your help. Can we meet someplace and talk?"

Martin didn't want to go through any more of this with Cheryl and Turner, but he knew he would. "I'm free right now, but I'll be out of town again tomorrow."

Cheryl was relieved. "I'm leaving the mall. Can we meet at that little restaurant across the street? The local one. You know Sallie's?"

"Give me thirty minutes."

Cheryl was standing outside the restaurant when Martin pulled in the parking lot. He saw her standing there so demure, so vulnerable. It was gut wrenching. She looked so beautiful. What was wrong with him? He'd fallen in love with one of Turner's toys. All he thought about was her, but when he got around her he was inarticulate. Looking at her all he could think about was wrapping his arms around her kissing her and loving her. What a fool he'd become. He sidled up to her and asked. "You want to go in and get something to eat?"

She answered. "No, my stomach. It's tied into too many knots."

His was too. He offered an alternative. "What about the park down the street?"

Cheryl knew the park. She'd been there with Turner when he proposed the nude visit. "Sounds OK, I'll follow you over."

They both drove to the park and literally found the same picnic table she'd used before. They sat down across from each other. Martin could see she was nervous. He correctly figured she was uncomfortable being with him. It was breaking his heart.

He gave her a quick once over. She had on a pale yellow blouse. It was a little too daring for his tastes, and he saw her nipples were pressing against the cloth. She looked beautiful, but she had on too much mascara and too much eye shadow. Her lips looked succulent, but they weren't Cheryl lips. Too much red. Turner had been a busy man. God he hated that bastard.

"Turner I need your help."

He figured she did, and he'd already surmised what it was about. "Let me guess. Some how, some way Turner influenced you to fuck some other man." He wasn't pulling any punches today. "Now he's, shall we say, disappointed, saddened, even heartbroken at your infidelity."

"I hate you Martin. It wasn't like that."

This was killing him. "Tell me sweet Cheryl. How was it then?"

"His cousin's wife recently died."

Martin interrupted. He gave her a very fake expression of remorse. "He was so lonely, almost suicidal. He just needed someone to hold. He just couldn't bear to be alone another night." He poured it on. "You're so good Cheryl. You're so special."

"I hate you! You're a son of a bitch!"

"Am I wrong?"

"Technically no, but that's not how it was. It wasn't like that at all."

Martin led her to the next step. "Right! Now Turner is unhappy, he's saddened. He doesn't know if he wants to see you anymore, but he'll call." He saw she'd heard exactly that. "Let me tell you what happens next. He doesn't call. You wait, but finally you cave in. You call. He tells you he missed you, but now he's cynical. He can't trust you. His faith in you and in all women has been destroyed. He will agree to see you again, but there will be conditions. You'll have to perform some kind of penance. That penance will involve yet another man"

Cheryl was just about ready to leave. She went to get up. "You're a bastard Martin."

As she got up to leave he grabbed her arm.

"Let me go!"

"Don't you want to know what the conditions will be?"

She kept trying to get away, but he wouldn't let her.

"He'll tell you from now on you can sleep with others, but he's going to pick them out. He'll even have a man waiting for you the first night you see him again. That will be the condition! You'll sleep with other men. You'll fuck them, and they'll pay Turner."

She broke free and started running up the hill.

Martin yelled after her. "He's going to make you his whore Cheryl!"

She ran even faster.

As she disappeared up the hill he yelled. "Don't do it Cheryl! Don't let him do it to you!" If she heard him she didn't let on. Oh Christ, Martin thought. She's going straight to hell, and there's not a God damn thing he could do stop her. He remembered the old Buck Owens song. Yes, she's got a tiger by the tail it's plain to see, and there won't be much when he's through with me.

Martin knew there wasn't anything, not a God damn thing he could do. She had to learn for herself. He slammed his fist against the picnic table. Damn! That hurt! He yelled at the table "Turner, you bastard!" He sat down on the bench. There was one thing he could do. Really only one thing. He could wait. He'd wait and see. He knew how it always ended. In the past the poor girl was always left with nothing but the ashes of a broken heart and her broken dreams. This time when the poor girl came crashing down he'd be there. Maybe he couldn't rescue her, but he could be there at least he could just be there.

Cheryl ran to the top of the hill, got in her car, and pulled away. She kept saying. "I hate you Martin. God I hate you."

Cheryl waited a week and Turner never called. She couldn't wait any longer. She punched in his number on her phone. After just three rings someone picked it up. It was Turner.

"Hello."

"Turner this is Cheryl. I've been waiting for your call. I got worried. I thought maybe something had happened to you."

He sounded glad to hear from her. "Cheryl I'm glad you called. I've been thinking about you."

What a relief. He'd been thinking about her. "You're all I think about. Can I come see you?"

"You can come over tonight."

She was ecstatic! I'll be there. What should I wear?"

His voice grew exponentially more serious. "Things are going to be different from now. Do you understand?"

"Oh yes. Yes sir!"

"I can't see myself as your boyfriend in the same way. Things have changed. Do you understand?"

"What ever you say Turner is what I want. I'm yours. I'll change. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

He replied. "I'm having an important person over for dinner tonight. He's my supervisor. He's an important man, my career and my future are in his hands. If you come over tonight I'll expect you to do things you won't like, things you've never done before. But, even if you do something you don't like, remember you'd be doing it for me, whatever you do it's for me."

Cheryl was only half listening. Turner would take her back. She'd have him back. So what if he wanted to punish her. She'd get him back. Once that happened she'd show him how much she really loved him. He'd forget Mike. He'd learn to trust her again. She'd see to it.

She reached Turner's at 7:00. He opened the garage for her and handed her a package. "I want you to put this on. My boss and I will be having dinner tonight, and a little after that we'll have drinks in the living room. Food has been ordered. You'll serve. You'll be my maid. Later I might have something else for you to do." He looked at her with almost no expression. "Make up your mind right now. What's it to be maid and hostess, or good bye?"

"I'll be your maid. I'll be your hostess. I'll work for you, tonight, tomorrow night, as long as you want. I love you."

He looked at her and smiled just a little. He put his arms around her and kissed her. She kissed him back almost feverishly

"We'll consider tonight a test." He turned and started up the steps to the main house. Turning slightly he said. "Follow me."

Cheryl dutifully followed her lord and master.

Turner led her into the living room and pointed upstairs. "You haven't seen the rest of my house. If you go upstairs and walk all the way to the end of the hall you'll find a room to your right. Starting now that's your room. Go on up and get ready. He paused and with something of a half smile added for emphasis. "My little maid"

Cheryl didn't care. If this was the penalty, she'd pay it. She went off to get ready.

Turner phoned his friend who was coming that evening. "My man I've something special for you this night. You're not only going to get a free meal, but you're going to get a free blow job."

Cheryl went into the room Turner had designated as being hers. It was small and bare, though it had a nice double bed. There was a single dresser, a bed stand with a lamp, and one window. She went to the window and pulled back the curtains. It was clear but she couldn't see very much. Next to the bed there was another door. She opened it and found a small bathroom. It had a tiny shower, sink, medicine cabinet, and a toilet. Nothing elaborate, but certainly functional. She went back in and sat on the bed.

She opened the package Turner had given her. It really was a maid's uniform. Not some skimpy French maid outfit, but a real honest to God maid uniform. She quickly stripped off her own clothes and hung them up.

She decided to get dressed. There was a skimpy brassiere that offered almost nothing in the way of support. With her large breasts she knew she'd be bouncing around all night.

There was a pair of loose fitting and equally scanty panties. The panties were virtually transparent in front, and bunched with tiny ruffles in the back. Near the bottom of the panties in the back was a small bow. The tails of the bow seemed to hang inordinately low. She wondered if they would show beneath the dress.

She turned to the dress. It was a black silken outfit. It buttoned up the front so she stepped into it and pulled it up. Starting at the bottom, at the hem, she buttoned the uniform to the top. It fit snugly around the waist but more comfortably around her breasts. The hem came to just above her knees.

It was long sleeved with stiffly starched white cuffs that also buttoned. She felt the cuffs and wondered if they were cloth or perhaps a mixture of cloth and some other material, maybe some sort of plastic.

The cuffs were uncomfortably tight, but nothing as compared to the neck. Around her neck was a very tightly fitting peter-pan collar certainly made of the same stiff white material as the cuffs. It pinched her neck, and she wondered just how long she'd be able to stay in it. There was an attractive little white apron that she wrapped around her waist and tied off in a neat bow in the back.

Then came the shoes and stockings. She put the stockings on first. They were black and went to just above her knees. In fact the top of the stockings almost exactly met the hem of the dress. Some sort of sticky substance held the stockings in place.

Last were the shoes. They were a luminescent black patent leather with a low heel and a thin strap that held them on in front. Once she put them on she recognized them as a sort of modified Mary Janes. They were like shoes she'd worn when a small child. Recalling her childhood shoes and how uncomfortable they were she wondered if she was in for the same discomfort tonight. Once they were on she knew the truth, these shoes were far worse.

In the package she found two ribbons. They were obviously intended for her hair. She took a brush from her pocketbook brushed out her hair, fluffed it, put a part down the middle, and tied the sides off into two little pig tails.

Looking around one last time in the package she found a small assortment of make ups. She applied the red lipstick and lip gloss, the pink cheek make up, dark mascara, and pale blue eye shadow, and last some black liner for her lashes.

All done Cheryl turned and looked herself over in the mirror. She fit comfortably into a size ten. Her breasts were full but they didn't sag or droop. They were quite perky actually. Her legs were always larger at the top but they looked damn good. In fact the more she looked the better she liked what she saw. As far as maids went she thought she was something of a hot mama! If this didn't turn Turner's head, nothing would.

The way she figured it, if she were really good, that meant being a really good maid, pretty, pert, and sassy! Turner's passion would be rekindled. He'd love her even more. He'd understand about Mike in time. Maybe she did overreact to Mike's terrible situation, but it had just broken her heart, and she thought she had done what Turner wanted her to do. She knew it had been wrong afterward, but it was almost like she'd been drugged or something. Mike's entreaties had been so poignant and sincere.

Cheryl went downstairs with new resolve. Tonight Turner would learn to forgive. There had been a little bump in the road, but they'd get beyond it. She knew he loved her. That was all that mattered.

As Cheryl descended the stairs Turner was still on the phone. He'd already called his prospective guest, now he was on the phone with somebody else. "Hey Martin, my good old buddy."

Martin recognized Turner's voice. He wondered why he was calling him. He thought he was out of town on a business meeting. "Yeah Turner what's up?"

"Oh I just thought I'd give you a heads up on Cheryl."

Martin was pissed already. "What about Cheryl?"

"Well you know our good pal Mike got her the other night. Guess what?" He waited for Martin.

"OK what?"

"I've got little Miss Pussy Pants all dressed up like a maid. Tonight she doesn't know it yet, she's going to go down on our chummy older friend Ryan. I'm going to watch."

Martin was seething on the other end of the line. Turner knew what he was doing. He knew there wasn't a thing Martin could do since he believed he was still half way across the country.

Turner went on. "Yeah, I'm going to watch, and you know what else? I'm going to video tape the whole thing. I'm going to make pictures. Yes pictures of our little Cheryl giving head. Then you know what I'm going to do?'

Martin was silent on the other end.

"Come on Martin guess. What do you think I'm going to do?"

Martin was apoplectic, but he held his cool over the phone. "Tell me Turner old buddy old pal what are you going to do?"

"I knew you'd be interested. Well here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to make up a batch of pictures, and I'm going to sell them back the Cheryl. Every time she fucks someone she gets a picture back."

"You're a barrel of laughs Turner. Not even Cheryl will fall for that." Martin wanted to kill the son of a bitch.

"Oh she will. I'm going to set a ceiling, say twenty maybe twenty-five pictures. I'll number them. It'll be like a count down at Cape Kennedy. You know twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three and so on.

Martin was getting madder and madder. "It sounds like you've got everything all figured out old buddy."

Turner could almost hear Martin's teeth gritting. "I sure do. Not only that. Guess what else?"

"I can't guess. You tell me."

"I'm going to make our little Miss School Teacher request a leave of absence, say one year. I'm thinking about having her move right in with me. Once the pictures are all bought back I'll sell her the tapes. Only we'll do that in house so to speak. Sounds great don't you think?"

Martin let out a fake laugh. "You're one of the great ones Turner."

Now that he had the knife deep in his friend's back Turner decided to twist it a little. "Oh I forgot why I called. I'm giving you first crack at the pictures. You want to buy in early Martin, or are you willing to settle for say sloppy twenty-fourths and twenty-fifths?"

"Don't hold your breath good buddy. I've got to go." Martin closed up his cell phone. He knew it was too late for Cheryl tonight. Turner had her, but there was still time maybe. "I've got to either kill the bastard or beat him to a bloody pulp. He's a fucking chicken shit at heart. If he takes pictures or makes videos I can get them. I know I can."

Turner barely heard his friend. His comments to Martin had gotten the better of him. He'd gotten so excited talking about what he was going to do that he'd fucking popped a load in his drawers. Thank God he wore jockeys. He'd be able to give Cheryl her marching orders, and then run upstairs and change pants. He chuckled to himself. Just talking about ways to fuck over this girl and his friend, it was nearly as good as sex. Hell, it was sex.

Cheryl was at the foot of the steps. She twirled around. "How do I look?"

Turner smiled. "You're beautiful. Come over here and sit down. Here is how it's going to be tonight.

Cheryl walked over and sat in the chair Turner proffered.

"Tonight you're a maid and you're a servant. You'll have two main responsibilities, and you better do everything right."

Cheryl nodded her head in a sort of exaggerated proof of understanding and a partially phony exhibition of enthusiasm.

"First you'll be our little waitress. I want to see you scurrying around the table tonight, just prancing and dancing. I want to see those knockers of yours bounce and jiggle. Understand?"

"Yes sir. I'll prance, scurry, bounce and jiggle, anything for you sweetheart." She thought it could be fun, certainly degrading, but worth the humiliation if it made her Turner happy.

He went on. "Later after we eat we'll go into the living room. I'll expect you to kneel on the floor at my feet. Got it?"

"Yes. Kneel at your feet. Yes your majesty!"

At some point, while we men are talking I'm going to send you over to my boss."

"Go over to your boss."

"Then I want you to kneel down in front of him, pull down his zipper, slip out his penis, and then I want you to suck him off."

Cheryl sat there on the chair. She was absolutely flabbergasted. "No."

"No! You mean yes!"

"No please! Turner! Don't make me do that! Oh gosh no. Turner I'm a good girl. I've never done anything like that. I'm a good girl." She walked over and tried to sit on his lap.

He pushed her away. "Fuck that shit. You let Mike fuck you didn't you? You can do this. Be thankful I'm not giving him your pussy. He gets your mouth. You understand!" He was getting mad. He was afraid she might not do it.

Cheryl was crushed. She knelt at his feet putting her hands on his knees. This was awful The worst thing ever! She begged. "Oh please Turner I'm sorry about Mike. I thought you wanted that. Turner! Don't make me do this. I'll do anything, but please."

He interrupted. "You have to pay a penalty. You're going to suck off my boss, and you better act like you're enjoying it." He had to give her another reason. He reached out his right hand and caressed her cheek. She pressed her cheek against his hand like some dog begging for a treat.

Turner chided her. "Think of it this way. You suck him as payment for your bad behavior with Mike, but when you suck my boss's penis I'm paying too. I should never have let you go see Mike. Your sucking my boss is my penance."

Cheryl didn't agree with his reasoning, but she loved him so. Maybe he was right. Maybe if she did this terrible thing, a thing she'd never ever done, it would in some way expiate what she'd done with Mike. She felt so ashamed. She thought what she did with Mike was charity, but Turner saw it as fornication. Turner was behaving like her father. She didn't like that, but if she did this thing, this dirty thing, then it would all be all right. She sniffed. She felt like crying. She turned her face and kissed the palm of his hand. "Turner please?"

Turner pushed her face away and took her two hands holding her wrists together and her arms up in front of her breasts. "No, and that's final. Go and sit over there." He pointed to a chair near the dinner table.