The Agreement

Harry paced the room and literally wrung his hands. He'd lost interest in work. He'd lost his appetite. Sleep? What was that. Women! The most giving creatures on the planet; his the most giving of all. And he was not happy. How could he tell her—what if he broke her heart. But he had to risk it. He was being unfair to her he told himself. He was what he was and she was what she was and there was but slight damn chance that ever the twain would meet if things kept going the way they were. He had to try, and the worst of it was that he wasn't sure. After all of his hand wringing, after all of his mental anguish, after all of the confab with Royce, what if...

He heard her car pull into the driveway. It was now or never. The back door was opening. He heard her footsteps as he always did this time of day.

"Hi," was his singularly weak opening.

"Marla, can you get these papers processed before you go home," said Mad Maxine Cabrera the bank's vice president in charge of operations. She'd been dubbed Mad Max a long time before; something about being a hard-nosed theory-X manager type. She was a striking woman. Maybe five-foot nine inches tall, raven hair, voluptuous figure, pale olive complexion with not a hint of a wrinkle at her age forty-four.

"Certainly, Max. Want `em in the outgoing when I'm done?"

"No. I've got to look them over before we send them out. Big bucks, you know."

"Isn't it always?" asked the slim petite redhead?" Marla Gilbert was delicate looking and gorgeous. She sported freckles that gave her a teenagerish look even at her age thirty-eight. Her A-cup breasts and her sculptured butt emphasized her youthful appearance.

"Yes. Of course. Wouldn't be very fun if the bucks weren't big." Maxine turned and started to walk away when she heard her subordinate call her back.

"Miss Cabrera..." Marla's voice trailed off. Maxine noticed, crossed herarms, and leaned back against the edge of the large oaken desk.

"Yes Marla?"

"Oh nothing," said the redhead suddenly uncomfortable and hoping that her superior would let it ride and go.

"Marla, if it's personal, you can tell me to butt out and I will. If it's about the business, then get on with it. We have no secrets from each other, not us." She smiled as she said this last. Her pussy became stimulated by the mere thought of some of the times -- few and far between though they had been -- that the two of them had shared.

"I don't know. Maybe it's something that were better left unsaid," said Marla looking undecided and slightly forlorn.

"I see. Anything at all that I can do? I mean, like I said, there need not be any secrets between us."

"I don't know. Oh, I guess. Harry and I are in kind of the doldrums these days."

"By `doldrums' you mean in terms of sex."

"Yes, that mainly, and money problems too, and it's all my fault. I don't know how to please him. I think he is bored and quietly angry with me."

"You do." Maxine did a slow half pivot and paced a few steps off in front of the desk. She turned back to Marla, "No."

"Huh?"

"I said, no. He's not angry with you. He may be frustrated with the current state of things, but Harry Gilbert is too bright a fellow to be blaming the best thing that ever happened to him for the miniscule problems you two have."

"Miniscule! How dare you..."

"How dare I. Who bailed you out of debt last year and will again if necessary? Who made sure his company hired a balding septuagenarian for his secretary, so you wouldn't have to worry? Who rushed you to the hospital when you had that kidney stone problem three years ago."

"Sorry. You're right. But our problems are not small to us. You gotta give me that."

"Well, I'm sorry too I guess. Problems are always a matter of perception. Almost never a matter of fact. Want some advice?"

"Oh yes."

"Do something to shake him up sexually. Something completely off the wall. That'll fix him up."

"Easy to say, but what?" asked Marla with knitted brows.

"Is your problem with sex your problem or his problem?"

"I probably should say it's both of ours. But, the truth is it is mostly him. The sex for me is pretty good."

"If it's pretty good, it's terrible. Sex should always be sensational. When your man bends you over and pushes his thing up to the hilt; well, it should be the best, always the best."

Marla blushed like an ingenue on her first cycle. " I do like it when he screws me. But, he is such a bastard sometimes, not caring what I want or what I need. He just fucks me and rolls over. But, it is heaven while he's in me; he's very thick you know."

"Do you ever talk to him about your feelings and needs? Ever put the onus on him?"

"Yes, sometimes. But he doesn't seem to hear me."

"Do you whine about it?"

"I guess. I hate myself afterward for being so selfish, but I do have certain wants. I guess I'm not very patient. Maybe it is my problem too"

"Yes, and you're entitled to them; I mean your wants and your problems. But, you shouldn't whine. Harry should tan your bottom for that. It's his duty as your husband to make sure you learn obedience and to do your duty. You understand that."

"Yes, I understand. But, Harry is too wimpy to spank me even when I'm being bratty."

"Then you have to train him."

"Train him? We're talking about him spanking me aren't we?"

"Yes. A woman, some women, sometimes needs to know her man will take her in hand. It gives her a feeling of security. Men think that we are the weaker sex. We aren't, but we are the submissive sex -- usually."

"I guess so."

"Oh it's true. Train that man of yours. Train him soon."

"How?"

"Tell him about us for starters."

"What! You want me to get served with divorce papers! He'd never understand; he'd probably have you arrested and me committed, or try to."

"He couldn't. We're consenting adults. What have we done? On rare occasions we've engaged in a `no strings' tryst. Gotta tell you, I'm beginning to get the urge right now, and that's a fact."

"You mean you want to do me now?" Marla flushed. She felt the eyes of the taller woman boring holes in her sheath dress.

"Absolutely. I want to spank you too. I think you'll look nice jerking and bouncing and squealing while you get the wrong end of my new hairbrush."

Marla flushed redder than she had in recent memory. She could not resist the taller woman. She loved her dominant ways. It had been a fantasy that she had long nurtured privately, but that she had only been able to express since the day Maxine had finally had enough of her moping around and had taken her in hand—literally.

Marla had been shocked by the strength of the larger woman as her wrist had been grabbed and used to pull her along to the store room in the back of the office. There, as Maxine seated herself on a large packing crate, she had felt herself pulled across a pair of very shapely knees and spanked quite smartly. She'd cried crocodile tears for sometime after; but later, she had gone to Maxine and thanked her for the lesson she had been taught—and she had thanked her on her knees.

From that impromptu beginning, a relationship between the two disparate females had been born and had grown. Marla was now the unambiguous bottom to Maxine's top in their little B&D arrangement. Sex had entered into their little game at some point that neither of the two of them could now accurately recall.

"Lift your dress," said Maxine, "I want to see your panties."

Marla was composed now. She knew what Maxine would do next, so she just obeyed and lifted her dress. She was wearing dark green french-cuts. Her slit was clearly visible where her legs came together at the base of her tummy. "Like the color?" she asked impishly.

"My yes," said Maxine. "Come over here."

Marla complied and dropped to her knees. She bent forward and kissed her mistress on her lower belly. "You may lift my skirt and do that Marla. I want you to kiss me down there."

Marla lifted her boss' skirt and kissed her again just above her vulva. Maxine shuddered at the feel of Marla's lips on her body. "Now pull down my panties and kiss me again—all over," commanded Maxine.

Slowly, very slowly Marla pulled her boss' panties down to her ankles. She then kissed her again on the now exposed lower abdomen. Soon Marla was turning her head sideways to trace her friends slit with her tongue. She pried the other's two legs apart enough for her to gain access to her sex. She began licking her inner thighs, then her slit again, then her hole.

She did everything she could to penetrate Maxine's pussy as much as she could with her tongue. Soon Maxine was shivering in the first throes of a violent climax. Maxine grabbed her paramours head and forced it to remain pressed against her sex. She ground her pussy into the face of the woman at her feet.

Marla squatted back on her ankles now. She awaited her next duty. She did not wait long. "Strip naked for me Marla. I wan to see you, all of you."

Marla stood and did an amateur striptease for her boss. Finally she stood naked, girlish tits jutting out in front of Maxine. Her time had come...

******

Marla gently stroked the red welts that crisscrossed her naked buttocks after her spanking. Maxine, having dressed, gazed in bemused fashion upon the naked splendor of her "bottom's" buttocks. She smiled with satisfaction that Marla, a gal so incredibly wantable, would have permitted herself to be dominated and controlled by her--by anybody for that matter. But, subs were subs and dommes were dommes and no one could say with any definitude why one was one and another was--well, no one completely understood anything about B&D.

"What do you think, Marla, want me to talk to him?" asked Maxine helpfully.

"I don't know, Maxine. Harry and I are kinda ordinary, at least when it comes to each other. Until—well—until you, I never dreamed of trying anything adventurous. I'm afraid Harry would go bonkers if I even suggested something like what you and I do to him."

"Umm. Yes, I can understand your reserve. But, I am fairly experienced in such matters, and if you'll let me, I can manage it without any danger to your marriage or your sex life either. In fact, I can assure you that he will fuck you with a renewed enthusiasm that will simply blow your mind. Come on, want to give it a try?"

"Well..."

"At the risk of sounding trite, `Nothing ventured, nothing gained.'"

"I guess not," said Marla without overwhelming conviction.

"Good then it's a done deal. I'm gonna convince your husband to take you in hand, as you wish to be taken in hand, and to be the strong, dominant husband you need. Oh, and if I succeed," Maxine paused for effect, "you owe me one. Agreed?"

"Yes. I guess so," agreed Marla.

"Very, very good," said Maxine smiling like a possum. "Now come over her so I can put some salve on that sore posteriorflorifus for you."

Marla knew the drill. She walked over to the desk Maxine was leaning against and bent over it, arching her butt high enough to make for easy access by her top. Maxine very gently stroked the other female's buttocks and began applying the white goo she always used to assuage her bottom's pain. And, also as usual, she pushed a finger deep into the bent-over

girl's anus. Her ministrations had an ulterior motive; she would soon be plunging her strap on penis deep into the helpless girl's nether hole. Marla rested her head on her hands while she awaited what she knew would soon come.

******

Harry's boss was a handsome man. Royce Richter had been a college athlete and a summa at Columbia before becoming a general partner in Harry's company. The two had become friends and occasional drinking buddies. Harry didn't drink heavily, but when he was with Royce, his tongue tended to be looser than at other times. Royce had learned his secret soon after they'd met: Harry wanted to make a change in his life; he wanted to dump Marla.

He wanted to dump her not because he didn't love her, but because he couldn't seem to satisfy her as he thought she deserved. Harry had whined and complained and blamed himself and had generally let it all hang out to his friend Royce.

Royce had been amused then, but this was now. He was tired of his friends pussy-whipped whiny attitude. With a wife like Marla, he, Royce Richter would be happy as hell. But Harry was a wimp when it came to women—a fatal flaw. Royce advised him now, to take the woman, and forget his pangs of guilt, real or imagined.

"Listen Harry, fuck the woman. Fuck her early and often. They love it. She'll love it. And if she complains, fuck her again. Stick that guilty-assed pole of yours as far up her twat as you can and bang her till she figures out who's boss. And when you get tired of that, she's got two other holes that you should most definitely not neglect. She'll love you for it. I tell yuh, she'll love yuh for it. Get your ass in gear and stop bein' such a wimpy-assed high school bastard."

"Criminy Royce, you really know how to hurt a guy."

"Take charge Harry. You'll thank me if you do. So will she."

******

"Hi back at you," Marla said. She noticed his pale expressionless face. "What's the matter?"

"Need to talk." He was nervous, obviously nervous.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I've been thinking..."

"Hon, before you say, I've brought someone home with me."

"Huh?" Harry had the look of a hound whose bone had been taken away. His eyes went immediately to the doorway where a tall, dark haired, confident looking woman stared back at him."Oh," was all he could manage.

"Did I interrupt you?" asked Maxine with a degree of formal concern in her voice.

"Uh--it can wait," said Harry.

"Honey," said Marla, "this is Maxine. We work together. She's my boss."

Maxine smiled at that. Boss, top, friend she was all of them, but she never thought of herself as Marla's boss, more as her mentor perhaps, but not her boss. "Nice to meet you Harry. Marla has told me a ton about you."

Maxine smiled in a way that was mildly unsettling to Harry: This was a markedly different woman than his wife. He was most interested to know why Marla had brought her home; she'd never brought another co-worker home with her before. "Oh -- well -- very glad to meet you too," he said with appropriate surprise.

"Harry, I have to go upstairs for a few minutes, will you please entertain Maxine in the meantime," it was not a question; Marla was halfway up the stairs before Harry could even respond.

"Well, Maxine, it looks as if you're stuck with me for a little while. Won't you have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee, anything?"

For the first time Harry noticed the woman's attributes: especially her, what must have been, thirty-eight-D tits. She was taller than he was too; not threateningly tall, but imposing nonetheless.

"Perhaps a little later, Harry. May I call you Harry?"

"Yes, of course." Harry was uncomfortable in the company of such a voluptuous female. He determined not to act it, however. "So, you work with Marla."

"Yes. We've been in the same department for quite a while."

"You're the first co-worker of hers that I have met. We work totally adverse schedules."

"Yes, she told me. We share a lot. You know, girl stuff."

"Oh, I see." Harry didn't really see. Marla had never talked about Maxine. He wondered what "girl stuff" meant exactly.

"Harry, can I tell you something." Harry nodded. "Marla loves you a lot. She talks about you incessantly." Harry squirmed, and Maxine noticed. "I hope I'm not making you feel uncomfortable, Harry," she said with genuine concern.

"Uh, no. No, of course not. It's just that Marla and I don't talk much about our shop acquaintances. Don't know why really; it's just our way I guess."

Maxine smiled. "Harry, I'm going to be straight with you: Marla asked if I would speak with you about something personal. But, if it's not all right, you can just tell me to butt out, and I'll understand." She paused and observed the paling of his countenance and the fidgeting of his short thick fingers.

She decided to go on. "Harry, Marla is worried. She loves you, and she fears you are growing bored with her. I've had some experience with such things, and so she asked me to kind of run interference for her; that is, to explain a couple of things that she's afraid to."

Harry was utterly flabbergasted. He wasn't angry or in any way incensed. He didn't know what he was. He felt -- at a loss; he just stared. "Yes?"

"Yes. Well, I mean would it be okay with you if I go on?" asked Maxine smoothly. The man nodded.

"Well then. Frankly Harry your wife would prefer it if you were a -- little more manly."

"What!" Harry hissed the word. Now he was angry. How dare this interloper imply he wasn't "manly." "What are you talking about...?"

"Please Harry. I know this is a shock. But, unless I miss my guess, you've had some of the same kinds of feelings too, only the reverse."

Harry considered that. Considered what he had planned to tell, explain, ask Marla before Maxine had showed up. "Go on," he said sardonically.

"Thanks Harry. Marla is all girl Harry. She wants to be treated as girls should be treated. In the classical sense if you like. She wants a man who can dominate the scene, not one who bows and scrapes. She doesn't want to

be put on a pedestal and worshipped; she would rather be put over a knee

and spanked."

"What in hell!"

"Harry..."

"What in hell are you talking about. Does she know that you're telling all of this?"

"I'm talking Harry about your taking charge and being the man you should be. Marla needs a protector and a strong hand. Guidance. Harry, she wants you to lead, not be led."

Harry was at a loss. Here was a strange woman telling him the same things, to all intents and purposes, that Royce had told him. "Amazing. My best friend has told me the same thing, in almost the same words."

Now it was Maxine's turn to be surprised. "Your friend told you what I'm telling you? Who's your friend, Harry?"

"A fellow worker. His name is Royce Richter. Know him?"

"Royce Richter?" Maxine flushed. "Yes, yes In know him. He used to be my husband."

Harry was suddenly more than mildly interested in Maxine's words. "Your ex-husband?" he repeated evenly.

"Married four years. Royce is a very dominant and pushy guy. We weren't compatible at all."

Harry, forgetting his own problem, asked her why they had divorced.

"Because, I'm a dominant personality too. For a marriage to work, one of the partners has to relinquish the decision making role; neither of us were capable of that, so we broke up; it's been a long time now."

The two talked for another half hour. Neither took any notice that Marla had not returned. And neither was aware that Marla was just on the other side of the door jamb listening to every word.

******

Harry looked into his wife's semi-downcast eyes. The two of them had sat in pregnant silence since Maxine had departed twenty minutes before. He stared at her small girlish frame, her teeny tits. He suddenly found himself lusting after this female in a very delicious way. He'd thought he knew her. He now realized that he hadn't had a clue. His girl, his wife, was really a very docile creature indeed. How could he have not realized it? Three years of marriage and he hadn't had an inkling. He spoke.

"Wanna talk? I mean we can't just sit her forever."

Marla looked up at him. "Do you want me Harry? I mean really want me?"

"Absolutely." He had a sense that he had never spoken words that were more completely true. "And I want you now more than I ever wanted you. In fact you are in great danger of being raped as you sit there."

She smiled. "Promises promises."

"I keep my promises in case you hadn't noticed."

"Then don't break the thread."

Harry stood and walked around the table. He took her by the arms and raised her slowly out of her chair. Harry wasn't a muscle man, but he was a good deal stronger than he appeared; often the case with wiry built men. He pulled her to him and kissed her with a surprising gentleness on her orange painted lips -- very gently; he'd get rougher, he thought to himself, but these first moments had to be sensual, not crude; their lives were about to change in none too subtle ways.