Falling Ch. 08

There was an appalled silence. "So what did you do?" asked Michael, who was the best listener of everybody there, even in his unnaturally subdued state.

I absently touched myself in fond memory and smiled. "I told her -- Candi, with an 'I', if you can believe it -- that I knew she was fucking Alan, and that she was going to fuck me, too."

"Then I bent her over my leg and spanked her once for every screw-up in that contract; that was a lot. I told her I had higher standards than Alan and if she made more mistakes, she was going to get spanked again. And if she ever sent something to one of my clients before I reviewed it, she wouldn't be able to sit down for a month!"

I looked around at the audience. Daddy's hand clearly was at work under the table, and it was Stacey's turn to be frowning darkly. "You know, it's sad," I reflected. "I don't think Candi ever had a mentor before me."

"Some of your coworkers are accusing you of sexual harassment," Daddy said.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" I jerked straight upright. "Do I look like I need to harass anybody to get laid?"

Michael snorted. "Linnea, you sound like your father." He sighed. "Don't you see anything wrong with forcing Candi to have sex?"

"And why did you do it in the first place?" Stacey venomously hissed. "Cheating, on me?"

"I wasn't cheating!" I objected, stung. "It was just business; everybody does it -- she doesn't mean anything to me!"

Mom made the tiniest little squeak and dropped her fork again.

Daddy smiled thinly. "Perhaps you have a better grasp of realities than I've given you credit for." I saw he was stroking himself again, which meant it wasn't exactly unqualified approval.

"Then there's no reason to not to give Linnea access to her trust fund, is there?" Stacey's smile was all saccharine sweetness.

Was that all this was about? Money? Wasn't I doing well enough on my own? I looked back and forth between the pair of them, reading Daddy's answer in the frenzied motion of his hand, and felt my temper getting out of control.

"What?" I snarled at him. "When y'all fuck every woman who'll spread for you, you're Giants of Industry, but if I do the same thing, it makes me a slut? Well, I have news for you -- I am a slut, and I like it!"

I caressed myself lasciviously and relaxed my sphincter enough to release some of Michael's sticky load. Turning enough to be sure they could see it leaking down my thigh, I collected a generous amount on a fingertip and brought it to my mouth, licking it clean before continuing.

"A slut! I like getting fucked, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. Not for you, Daddy, and not for anyone else. If I have to fuck and suck to get an even break, I'm happy to do it, and at least I'm doing it to get ahead instead of just to hold people under my thumb." I glared at all of them. "And whom I choose to sleep with is my own business -- so get over it!"

Michael alone looked supportive. Mom was jerking spasmodically and pulling on the tablecloth. A jet of Daddy's sperm arced from his lap and landed across one of the candles and the edge of Michael's plate.

Stacey was preternaturally still in her seat at the head of the table, but abruptly rose and beckoned to me. "Linnea and I need a moment alone. Come!"

I was moving before I could even think about it, and followed her into her bedroom.

"Perhaps I'll start some coffee," Michael said behind us.

Stacey turned and scrutinized me carefully. "What's wrong with you, Linnea? You can tell me."

"Nothing's wrong," I objected. "You know I love you, Stacey." I leaned in to kiss her, but she pushed me away.

"I thought we'd worked through this," she sighed. "The feelings those men in Texas forced on you are wrong, Linnea. You are not some plaything for men to use. None of those urges have come back, have they? Tell me the truth."

"I don't think about them at all," I said, smiling. It was the truth, as far as it went. By the time Stacey had been satisified that I no longer cared what Big Bill wanted, it had taken my hair months to regain its former length.

"That's good," she said, loosening up and stroking my hair. "But I thought we had a special relationship. I was very hurt to hear you slept with that Candi girl, Linnea. Are there others you've been with?"

"Dozens, maybe a hundred by now." I laughed nervously, uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed. "You know that. But none of them will ever change the way I feel about you, Stacey; I love you."

"I know," she sighed. "Give me a little lick?"

Smiling happily, I collapsed to my knees and helped her lift the hem of her dress above her hips. I kissed her gently, almost reverently, and then caressed her folds with my tongue before settling in to milk the juices from her body. As Stacey's taste intensified in my mouth and her fingers ran through my hair, I finally felt like I was home again.

She stepped back before orgasming. Looking up, I realized she'd snipped a small lock of my hair while I'd been distracted. While I continued to kneel before her, she performed the now-familiar ritual of doubly-coating the hairs and holding them to the candle on the nearby dresser.

What happened next surprised me. Instead of dropping the lock in the candle, Stacey held it over the flame until it was burning steadily, and transferred it -- still alight -- to her mouth. I heard a hiss and she grimaced in pain before swallowing, and then a wave of warmth flooded my body.

I gazed happily up at Stacey, lost in her beauty, as her voice floated down to me like pronouncements from Heaven. Every syllable squeezed moisture from my pussy.

"You love me absolutely, Linnea," she whispered. Crooned? Sang? The movement of her dress rustled in the room like wings of angels. "You'd do anything for me, because helping me makes you feel so good, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes," I moaned, nearly orgasming just from the feel of being able to answer her question.

"And you'd never keep secrets from me, would you? You'll always tell me everything."

I nodded eagerly, desperate to please her.

"Why do you call yourself a slut? Who told you to do that?"

"Nobody! It's what I am," I explained. "I love the feel of people using my body for sex." The faint annoyance on Stacey's face brought tears to my eyes. "I can't help it!" I waited, holding my breath, for her to say something.

The silence stretched while she just looked at me. Finally Stacey sighed. "You are a slut," she agreed, and I heaved a deep breath of relief. "But you're my slut, Linnea. From now on, you won't do anything with anybody else -- or yourself -- unless I tell you to. I know it will it be hard on you, but being obedient when you want to be bad will show me how much you love me."

"Yes!" I gasped urgently. I was dripping on the carpet, and realized I'd been about to touch myself. Jerkily I pulled my hands to my sides and sat on them, feeling another rush as I denied myself as Stacey had asked.

"Have you been with other sluts?"

"Several!" I answered eagerly, thinking maybe she wanted some of them. "Candi is--"

"No," Stacey said, and I cringed. "Have you been with other sluts who were just like you? Who got off on exactly the same things you do?"

My throat seized up and I hesitated, torn by indecision. The moment I'd dreaded for months was upon me. My heart felt as if it were being torn in two, and Stacey's eyes narrowed. "Yes," I moaned, and swayed as heat built inside me, but still my subconscious fought to remain silent.

"Who?" Stacey knelt to look me straight in the face. "Telling me will make me very happy." She ran a finger teasingly down my body, raising goosebumps on my arms and legs. "Tell me who it is, Linnea." She pressed lightly on my rings.

I was crying without remembering why. I brokenly whispered, "Jenny," and screamed as Stacey smiled and a massive orgasm rolled my eyes back in my head. I lost my balance and slumped bonelessly to one side, but Stacey caught me in her arms.

Eternity passed, but it must have been shorter because nobody had come looking for us yet. Stacey held me, gently stroking me like a cat, and my flesh felt like it was on fire everywhere it touched hers.

"Tell me about Jenny."