There was once an old woman up in years, named Mabel who called herself Gentilly because she thought it was a more "seductive" name. Although she was far from seductive and rather looked like an old mastiff bitch. Now, Gentilly ran a "boarding house for girls" although only her daughter named Sondra and a step-daughter named Jennifer lived there. The many gentleman callers they had coming in and out would have attracted the attention of the local constabulary were they not paid of with "services" or money. Jennifer, the step-daughter, was fourteen, beautiful and worked hard, bringing in the lion's share of the money. She received good tips even from the coppers who never paid. She didn't realize how beautiful she really was. On the other hand, Sondra was rather dumpy, plain and basically lazy. She didn't make a lot of money for her mother because she thought she was better looking than she was and treated her "clients" rather snootily and looked down on them. She wouldn't "crotch dive" for her "clients" nor go "Greek" with them no matter the price nor the size of the tip. Only a few customers were willing to have her face to face since most considered her rotten-toothed, malodorous mouth only good for suckling and much preferred to have her from behind than face her dragon-like, sulfurous breath. However, Gentilly did dearly love her chunky and plain, lazy daughter best because, of course, she was her own daughter. Thus, the step-daughter was required to do triple duty and occasionally let the plain daughter have a "client" or two when she was too busy to service them. She got so busy at times, that she had to service two or three "clients" at a time. She also was required to do the majority of the chores around the house while mother and daughter lazed around getting fatter and treated her rather badly all the way around.

One slow day, a Monday, when all the businesses made ready for the week ahead and not even one "client" stopped in, Gentilly dressed Jennifer in a pair of red platform stilettos, black fish-net stockings, black string-thong panties with quick release ties - to make it easy for her "clients" - a red skirt that just barely covered her young teen femininity, a polka-dot tied-in-front sleeveless top that showed off the amply endowed teen cleavage of her beautiful 36-EE breasts and a cute little red bow-tie on her slender neck - oh, and red bows on twin little-girl pony-tails and sent her out to troll in the park by the business district. Jennifer was directed to work there until she made at least five-hundred dollars - which, for Jennifer, didn't even take half the morning. Since some of the rest went into her pocket, she played in the park with the kids and bought them and herself hotdogs, popcorn and pop, then sat by the wishing well at the middle of the park, and watched the kids eat and play. It was pretty much her usual routine whenever she trolled the park. Most every body was busy and she picked and chose a couple of men from those who approached her.

Then, purely out of boredom, she took a couple of quarters out of the eight-hundred or so, including tips, that she'd earned that day, the Newspaper Guy had paid her in quarters and who knew how many newspapers he'd had to sell to make up her payment. Anyway, she tossed them into the wishing well. All she wished for was to earn enough money to make her step-mother Gentilly happy. It didn't matter that no matter how much Jennifer made the old hag wanted more. As Jenny - as her "clients" called her - leaned over the well to look after her falling coins, she leaned over too far and fell in. In her drowning panic, she blacked out and didn't remember anything until she woke up in a sun brightened field full of sweet clover, daisies, brown-eyed susans, dandelions, bluebonnets and other flowers she couldn't name, all blooming in every direction. It was a beautiful place so she assumed that she must have drowned and gone to heaven, it was that wonderful. She walked through it, picking the sweetest flowers and ooh-ing and ah-ing over the myriad beauties that grew there until she came to a man lying in the tall grass and crying broken-heartedly.

"Why are you crying?" she looked at his two cast-up arms curiously.

"I'm so horny," he sobbed, "and, as you can see, my two arms are broken and in casts and I can't even get to my penis to do it myself! Oh, I wish I could have a little lick from a nice woman, even a nice hand-job would do," he sobbed looking at her hopefully.

"Well," she shrugged her soft little shoulders, which caused her big bosom to jiggle nicely, "I've never done it for nothing, d'you have at least a dime to pay for it?"

He shook his head hopelessly.

"All I have is a nickel," he sobbed.

"Done," she smiled, "my price is a nickel, then."

"In my left jeans pocket," he whined.

She reached in his pocket and found the nickel, then for the next five minutes, the only noises were the slurping of her tongue and the smacking of her lips and the "oh's" and "ah's" of a happy man. She usually took her mouth off and caught the jism in a soft cotton hanky she always carried, but she seemed to have lost it and she didn't want to make a mess on this nice man's clothes, so she just drank it down. It didn't taste half bad, she noted, as a matter of fact, it tasted downright good. Maybe she'd been taught wrong by Momma Gentilly. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and sat back. The nice man was so relieved that he immediately fell asleep so Jenny shrugged her sweetly rounded shoulders and left him sleeping after tucking his penis carefully back in his pants.

After her little rescue job, she wasn't so sure that she was in heaven, but regardless, she went on a little farther, still enjoying the sun and the beautiful field and the nice soft breeze coming over the hill. Soon she came on two little kids sitting under an apple tree and looking up. She said "hey" to them and they said "hey" back, but rather sadly.

"Who died?" she asked trying to sound cheerful and teasing as she sat down beside them.

"Nobody, we was just wishing we could have a couple'a apples, but that mean old Mr. Jenkins won't let us get any. He said he'd charge us with theft and send us off to Juvie if we touched even one," he lay his head back on his crossed arms and moped, sobbing every once in a while.

"Aw-w, that's too bad," Jenny commiserated.

Just then, mean Mr. Jenkins walked up and started fussing at the kids again, all the while string appraisingly at Jenny. He knew her type just by the way she was dressed, he thought.

"I take it you're Mr. Jenkins?" Jenny smiled seductively.

"You take it right, missy," he snorted, "and these kids is nuttin' but trouble and if you don't skedaddle, I'll charge you with criminal trespass, too. I don't need none of your kind around here," he fussed.

Jenny could tell by the tenting of his crotch that he wasn't that serious about her trade so she made him an offer, using her throatiest and sexiest tone.

"Give 'em some apples and I'll take care of that problem in your pants."

"H-how, how you gonna d-do that?" he stammered suddenly very excited.

"Well," she ran her hand over the sinister looking bulge in his trousers, "what's your favorite? Blow-job, a quick fuck or maybe - some dirty Greek, hm-m?" Jenny arched her back, poking her sweetly rounded butt out and opening her eyes wide in simulated little girl shock.

"Okay, kids," Mr. Jenkins quickly turned to the kids, "you got a basket, I'll fill it up for you," and he shook the tree until the apples came falling down on them like rain.

He shook the tree until there were no apples left on it. Then, as the kids gleefully filled their baskets, Mr. Jenkins and Jenny ducked behind a convenient bush.

"Ass," he gasped, ripping his pants open and bending sweet Jenny over, "I've always wanted to fuck a hoore in the ass!"

She barely had time to stick a lubricating suppository in her asshole, much less yank her panties' crotch aside, before he slammed his stiff little prick into it. Jenny had just begun to enjoy this little bit of togetherness when she felt his prick go all stiff and stretchy and his balls got all tight.

"Oh, well," she sighed, "at least the kids got their apples."

Mr. Jenkins gasped and squirted a couple of weak little shots up her asshole, then leaned limply on her for a few seconds. He tried to shove his limp little dick in again, but it was no use, it was all over, so he slapped her ass a couple of times, sighed in satisfaction and fell back.

"All okay?" Jenny asked feeling back there to see how much he'd put in her.

"Umph," he grunted.

Jenny couldn't feel much more than a little sweat, so she didn't bother cleaning up and just pulled her thong back across her cutely pouting little anus. She'd had bigger and more cum in there than Mr. Jenkins seemed capable of and left him with a big smile on his face. She waved at the kids as she saw them crossing the fence with their apples. They waved back and hollered their "thank you's" before rushing on home.

As she walked on, the next thing she came to was a little stone cottage. It was real cute and homey looking and she saw an old man looking out the window. He had large and long teeth, which startled her at first, but as she turned to run, he called out after her in such a gentle voice that she stopped. She'd certainly had more terrifying "clients" than he, she thought.

"What are you afraid of, Sweetheart? Just stay and visit with me a little. It's a long time before dark and I haven't seen a soul in days."

Jenny stopped and turned back to his house. He sounded nice enough and like she'd noted before, she'd had uglier and meaner looking "clients." Besides what was at home that she had to get there right away? So she went in to his house and had a nice visit. He was a pretty good baker and had some really good cinnamon buns and cookies and some delicious crusty bread which he served with some wonderful home made butter and split pea soup. Then he suddenly got serious and said that he wanted to make her an offer.

"I can see that you're in the "people" business," he was very polite about it, "and I have a bit of money saved and set aside, quite a bit, in fact, and I'll make you an offer," Jenny looked doubtfully at him, what did he want, bragging of a wealth she couldn't see, "I have two things I would like and I'll then tell you what it's worth to me, okay?"

"Okay," Jenny shrugged, if she could make another five-hundred off the one man, then so much the better.

"Here's my offer," he hunched forward, "the first is that you do my house work, and do it properly, for me and, in turn, I shall pay you two ounces of gold each day," Jenny nodded as she calculated the price, two ounces at four hundred dollars per, well that was more than Mother Gentilly's daily requirement, "the other thing is that you have sex with me. Each time you do, I shall pay you two ounces of gold, but you must make me very happy. What do you say?" he leaned back in his chair sipping his iced tea.

Jenny was more than ready to agree, but caution held her back.

"First I have my own health and safety to consider," she tapped a beautifully manicured lo-ong fingernail on the table, " and I have no wish to get pregnant, so . . ." she paused and he jumped in.

"I do not care for penile penetration of vaginas," he looked almost insulted as he interrupted her, "I much prefer cunnilingus and, of course, the anus to me is more suited for sexual congress."

Jenny was confused by the big words. The only ones she had understood were anus and sexual intercourse.

"What . . ." she looked at him in confusion.

"I prefer to eat pussy," he laughingly translated, "and I only like to fuck the ass, so you don't have to worry about getting pregnant, and I have no diseases to pass on to you through the butt, okay?"

"Um-m-m, hm!" she nodded, "okay, you got a deal, that answers all my questions - oh, where do I sleep?"

"Why, I thought it was obvious," he smiled, "with me, of course, which is why I am about to specifically delineate your household chores."

Jenny nodded, her eyes glazing at his use of such huge words. He shook his head and smiled indulgently thinking that he must use smaller words with this one.

"Okay, simply said, you must make my - our bed in the right way. I wish you to always shake it thoroughly. It is a feather bed and I want the feathers fluffed thoroughly, also, I shed a lot of skin when I sleep, so that has to come out of it. You need to shake it outdoors, never indoors, until it looks as if it's snowing. For the rest, just the normal dish-washing, scatter some fresh saw-dust on the floor each day and sweep it off in the afternoon after your chores, then mop over it once in a while. I have a cleaning service come in once a week or so to do a more thorough job, okay?"

Jenny liked that, so she quickly agreed to the arrangement. She kept track and over the next few months, three times a day and three times a night without fail, he ate her pussy, which she didn't count for pay because he was so good at it, but each of those times, he took her anally and without use of any protective devices, which she found that she enjoyed even more than with a condom and he did use some good quality lubricant, not the old goose-grease, either.

The first night was more of a shock than a pleasure. The sex wasn't shocking, neither was being kissed by an old ugly ogre, no, the shock was that when she half-closed her eyes to avoid looking at him directly as he kissed her, he went from an ugly ogre to the handsomest man she had ever seen. With half-closed eyes she stared down at his body and saw the body of an Adonis, superbly shaped and well-muscled. With her eyes wide open, he was a wizened and bent little round ogre. It thoroughly took away her breath and made it impossible to enjoy his smacking and slurping mouth on her cunt. He took her three times that night, filling her so full of his jism that she had to wash the bedding the next day to get all that leaked out of her overfilled asshole. She even used a cork to keep from dripping all over the house.

She did her assigned work diligently and soon forgot about the gold that was accumulating and just enjoyed the pleasures that he gave her and kept her eyes half-closed throughout their affair. She also took great care to do everything according to the old ogre's directions including shaking the bedding as mightily as her small, slender arms would let her, merrily watching the skin fly off like so many snowflakes every time she shook it out and made the bed. The old ogre was very good to her and never spoke angrily and, as well, made sure that she had healthy meals every day.

He got into a regular routine with her. He owned his own jewelry business and he'd close for his coffee break at nine-fifteen. He'd be home by nine-thirty and he'd lay her back and send her into orgasmic ecstasy. Then he'd roll her over and bury his dog bone in her dirt. By nine-forty-five, he was done, dressed and back at work. He did the same thing at one-fifteen and at five-fifteen when he came home for the day. They went to bed promptly at nine and he followed the same procedure. Around one-thirty he'd awaken her and do it again, then around five he'd once more awaken her and again the same thing. He was like a machine, Jenny thought, never having seen him take so much as an aspirin, much less even Viagra. She got used to his quirks and even derived a lot of pleasure in his use of her anus for his pleasure. She even got to where she would cuddle in his arms, half-closing her eyes and almost convince herself that he really was the handsomest man in the world.

She stayed on with the Ogre for quite some time, almost two years, but after a year and a half she began growing sad. As a working girl, she'd always had something new to deal with each day. The current regimented life-style left her craving a little excitement, although she felt fairly fulfilled, and knew that she would be a rich woman when she finally left. She knew that she was rich because he gave her a weekly accounting of her wealth once a week. However, after a couple of months she had quit reading them and counting how much she was now worth, but . . . she couldn't tell why she felt sad, but at last she realized that she really was homesick.

"Home. Ha!" she scoffed, but deep down she knew that was what affected her - she was homesick. She was at least a hundred times better off with Ollie, as the ogre was called, than with Step-Mother Gentilly and Step-Sister Sondra. She kept it to herself for several more barely bearable months then finally went to Ollie and put her hand gently on his shoulder. Immediately, his shoulders slumped and he sighed heavily, knowing what it was she wanted - it being the only thing he could not provide her - surcease from her sadness and desire for "home."

"I know," he whispered quietly before she could say a word, "I shall bring you to your money tomorrow and you can go whenever you wish."

He was sad because, although he didn't then love her, he really had grown rather fond of her and her tight, thrice nightly and thrice daily, comfort.

"You've been a good girl and I have thoroughly enjoyed your pleasures. I do wish that you would not leave me, so it is with a sad heart that I shall say good-bye, but I will provide you good transportation to your home when you are ready. In fact . . ." he hesitated as if trying to make up his mind, "in fact, I shall take you to your gates myself. Until you do, I hope you will still be available?"

"Of course, Ollie, until I leave . . . and any time you may find yourself near me, you shall always be welcome in my - our bed."

Ollie smiled, pleased with her response, she had always been a good girl. A few days later, he led Jenny by the hand up to his shop. The door opened automatically with it's MagicAir hydraulics and, as she passed through, a shower of gold dust snowed down on her, clinging to every part of her skin and clothes so that she was covered and sparkled with it from head to foot. As Jenny looked wonderingly up at the lightly floating gold, Ollie smiled and shook his head.

"'That is not part of your money," the ogre smiled, it is just a token of my regard for you," and walked to a desk, pulled out a ledger with her name imprinted in gold on it and flipped it open.

"Let's see, 642 days at 2 ounces is 1284 ounces plus 642 days at 12 ounces of gold is 7,704 ounces for a total of . . . 8,988 ounces of gold. At current market prices of 510 dollars per ounce comes to . . . four million five-hundred-eighty-three thousand eight-hundred-eighty dollars," he lowered the slate and pulled his glasses down, "not bad for working girl, eh, my sweet?"

This marked the first time he had ever used and endearment with her.

"Now the question I have for you is - since it's all in gold right now, I will be glad to load you with the more than a quarter-ton of it. However, to make it easier for you, I can also bag it as cash in denominations of your choosing or, mightn't it be better in a bank account where it will be safe? Or how about a combination of all three?"

Jenny gasped, she was rich! A quarter ton of gold - over five-hundred pounds of it well over four and a half million dollars! For a few moments her mind whirled and, as she almost toppled, Ollie quickly scurried behind her to hold her up, but she quickly regained her composure as the calculator in her mind took over. Ollie helped her to a seat and one of his gnomes brought her a goblet - of gold, mind you - filled with chilled pinot noir, lately her favorite drink. Ollie excused himself to take care of some matters as he readied for the quick trip to take her home. A few minutes later he scurried back to her side, taking her hand and smiling his broken-toothed smile.

"Have you made up your mind?" he asked gently.

"Um-m," Jenny set the goblet down, "yes, I have," and Ollie waited patiently, "may I have some in diamonds as well?"

"Of course, my sweet, I expected it and already have a dozen of the finest diamonds set in gold for you, three rings, two bracelets, two necklaces and a beautiful tiara, does that make you happy?"

"Oh, yes," Jenny gushed.

"And I have six gold anklets and a few thousand in pocket cash with the remaining amount, just over four million, in a private Swiss account to avoid taxes," he smiled, "such is your reward for your honesty, integrity and . . ." he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "you're tight little ass," and smiled, clapping his hands and waving a gnome forward.

The gnome bowed and scraped and knelt at her feet, clipping the gold anklets on her slender ankles. A second gnome scurried up and placed the gold and diamond bracelets on her slim wrists. Then, as she bowed her head and wept in happiness, a third gnome ran up and set a footstool down for another to climb on and set the gold and diamond tiara on her head as well as the gold and diamond necklaces around her graceful neck. Then it fell to Ollie to once more come forward and hand her a pocketbook. In it was her Clinic Health Card, Driver's License, the title to the latest model Maserati sports car and the keys for it as well as some house keys that he didn't explain and which she simply assumed were her house keys - which, in a way, they were. Also, tucked in a hidden compartment, was a special note which she didn't immediately find and - just over fifty thousand in pocket cash and a passbook written in English, German and French showing a total of four million-forty-ninety thousand four-hundred-ninety-eight dollars and seventy-five cents. Then Jenny truly wept in happiness and, for a few seconds, but only for a few seconds, thought of staying permanently - but she didn't.

Ollie walked her down the dusty path, in her bare feet - a pair of expensive Prada slippers in her hand and gold dust blowing off her by a lazy breeze - and past the old straw-thatched cottages. As they walked and chatted, Jenny wondered when they'd get to the airplane or bus or whatever she was going to ride home on. They finally arrived at a huge wrought iron gate in front of an iron bound door. Ollie smiled tenderly and asked for a small kiss from her. She gladly gave him that and a more personal one, half-closing her eyes and, she suddenly realized, seeing him as he truly was. He nibbled and caressed her tongue with his, gently, tenderly, before pushing her back and throwing open the gate. The iron-bound door had disappeared, and a mist obscured her vision. She looked down at Ollie and he wordlessly gestured for her to step through.

Jenny hesitated for a fraction of an instant, then boldly stepped through. Turning for a last look at Ollie, she saw that he had disappeared into the mist and, as the gate closed, she found herself back in her own world, close to Step-Mother Gentilly's compound. As she entered the courtyard, the old rooster, perched on the wall, called out with a loud braying crow, greeting her home.

Her step-mother came to the door to see what had excited the rooster so, and for a few seconds, could not recognized this healthy and wealthy vision before her. She started to bow, for surely this was a lady of high breeding, but stopped in mid-curtsy, seeing something familiar in the girl's face. In those near two years she'd been gone, the young promising beauty had blossomed into a woman of spectacular beauty, a woman of almost seventeen.

"Who - who are you?" she quavered in surprise.

"Why . . . it is I," Jenny answered, "your golden step-daughter returned."

"My Heavenly Father, you've been gone so long, that we thought you murdered by the Street Girl Killer, the serial murderer who just recently was captured," she quavered, "we thought you long since dead!"

As she entered the room, the gold dust swirled off her clothes and skin and Sondra, when she saw the gold dust fall, scurried after her with a broom and dust pan, catching as much of it as she could as Jenny carelessly scattered it about. With all the gold and diamonds she was so richly covered in, you can be sure that she received a very warm welcome. Jenny, in spite of the pain and suffering her step-mother and step-sister had heaped on her was still glad to see them and she told them all that had happened in the nearly two years that she'd been gone.

When Step-Mother Gentilly heard how she had come by her wealth, she thought her lazy and very plain daughter, Sondra, ought to go and give this old ogre a shot. He seemed like such a loser, she thought that any woman's ass would do for him. So she dressed Sondra up in her sexiest outfit, a rather drab affair with her looks, and put two quarters in her hand and dragged the balking girl to the well. Sondra tossed them in carelessly, but she was hesitant about jumping in after them. Mother Gentilly told her to never mind, just to look in and see if she could see them. Sondra, as stupid as she was plain, did and as she leaned over to look, Mother Gentilly grabbed her feet and sent her ass over teakettle head-first down the well.

"She's about as dumb as they come," Mother Gentilly muttered unkindly.

Jenny laughed and stepped aside to take a message on her cell phone. It was from Ollie. He'd texted that there was another present for her, it was big, but barren without her. He told her to look in the secret compartment of her pocketbook. There she found a small neat card with an address on it in Ollie's hand-writing. It was an address in New York. He had said that it was a cottage near the lake in the south-east of Scranton. Jenny immediately said her good-byes, slipped the Pradas on her adorable little feet, climbed in her new Maserati, set her Magellan on the address and drove off to find this "cottage."

Meanwhile, Sondra was out cold for a little while, but then like Jenny she awakened in the beautiful field. She was really pissed at her mother for tossing her in like that and carried her foul mood with her as she walked down the field without really looking at it. When she came on the man, she recognized him by the casts on his arms that Jenny had told them of, as he lay on his back.

'Please, sweet lady, I am so horny," he pleaded, "and with my arms in casts I cannot even pleasure myself. Take pity and lick my penis or at least, maybe handle it a little, just give me a little relief."

"Do you think I'm getting my hands dirty on your filthy little thing for a nickel?" lazy and uncompassionate old Sondra just scowled at him and walked on by.

Presently, she came to the apple tree under which the two kids wept piteously.

"Mean old Mr. Jenkins won't give us any apples," they sobbed, "he said that if we touched just one of them he'd have us arrested for theft."

"And it would serve you right," she growled, and steered well clear of the tree in case an apple should fall on her head and possibly loosen the few brains in it. A few paces past the children, she saw a man leaning on a fence.

"Are you Mr. Jenkins?" she yelled.

"Why, yes I am," he smiled reaching for his zipper.

"Well, you need to have those little bastards under your apple tree arrested for disturbing the peace, sitting there caterwauling so loud," she huffed and kept on walking, leaving a puzzled Mr. Jenkins standing there with his fly open.

"She was a whore, wasn't she?" he wondered.

She finally arrived at Ollie the ogre's house and, since she'd already heard all about his grisly teeth from Jenny, she wasn't scared off and got herself in his good graces almost immediately. Without preamble, she took over the job that Jenny had vacated just that morning and told Ollie that she'd now be taking care of him and his needs. Ollie smiled and said nothing, no agreement nor promises made he.

The first day she was there, she did as Jenny had told her she'd done and was very industrious about it, working hard to please Mr. Ollie, as she called him, figuring on all the gold, jewels and cash she'd get in return. However, as I said, Ollie hadn't talked to her about any of the money which she assumed she'd get. Like her mother had said, she was as dumb as they came. Ollie for his part just figured her for working at minimum wage. As they say, ignorance is bliss as far as Sondra was concerned. However, he didn't suck on her pussy and that suited Sondra fine. She breathed a sigh of relief over that since she couldn't stand a man's face down there - Mother Gentilly's tongue was another matter entirely. Sondra loved her mother's tongue lapping her cunt. However, Ollie did take advantage of her well-rounded and hefty ass just like Jenny had said, three times a day and three times a night.

A few days later, she began to slack off and her work suffered. The next day was worse yet, and the old ogre complained of all the skin and dried cum on his sheets. Within a few days, she began staying in bed mornings, refusing to get up to fix Ollie's breakfast. Worse was not making the bed properly and not shaking all the dried skin out. She even complained to Ollie about the way he shtupped her ass and one night, he tired of her complaints and threw her out of his bed. For a few days she slept on the hearth with the old dog, until one night, as she lay on her belly sleeping, she awakened thinking that Ollie had forgiven her because he was humping her ass.

Sondra mumbled his name, telling him that it was all right and that she forgave him, but as she opened her eyes she realized that it was not Ollie, but Billie, the dog, who had his knob stuck in her ass and tied in as it swoll grandly. Her banshee screams quickly awakened Ollie and he laughed himself silly, barely able to lift a pail of cold water to throw on them, his tears of laughter running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. It took another forty-five minutes or so before the dog's knot finally shrank and he pulled out. Ollie was still laughing hard when he told her that she could go home if she wanted. The old dog sat there looking at her with lust in his eyes, his tail thumping the floor, begging her to stay, yowling a little as he raised his paws in supplication. The lazy girl, however, said she'd be delighted to go and sat up all night, on guard against the old dog. He lay at her feet, throwing a lusting eye on her every time she moved.

"Well, at least the gold will soon be mine," she consoled herself as she sniffled in self-pity.

When the new day dawned, Ollie the ogre led her, as he had Jenny, to the wrought iron gateway before reaching into his wallet.

"This is in return for your services," the old ogre smiled as he opened the gate and handed her a pair of twenty dollar bills, "since you did no work, I charged you for hostel services and food. However, I shall be glad to write off the remaining debt if you should wish to stay, Billie, my golden retriever friend, would be very pleased and you could earn that much every single time you service him."

Sondra stood dumbfounded, shaking her head and staring at the two twenties in her fist as the gate slammed to behind her. She stood there for a few minutes staring at the bills in her hand. Then, with as much haughtiness as she could muster, she tucked the money in her bosom, lifted her head high and walked to her door.

"At least I pleased the dog," she mumbled unhappily.

As she put her hand on the door the cock on the wall crowed for all to hear that she was home again.

"Your dirty, dog-fucking daughter's come back to you," she whimpered as her mother met her at the door and took the money out of her bosom.

She took a long, hot bath, but, try as she might, she could not get the feel of the dog's knobby cock out of her ass. The memory of how he'd felt cumming in her ass caused her to perversely reach between her legs and masturbate, getting some deviant pleasure in having delivered some pleasure to Billie.

---

So, what happened to Jenny, her ugly step-sister and her mean step-mother, you ask? Well, Jenny, as I noted earlier, didn't stay. The little cottage in Scranton by the lake turned out to be a two-story mansion with eight bedrooms that were actually state-rooms with full baths. It had a large professional kitchen staffed with cooks, servers, sous-chefs and scullery staff. In addition, it came with a butler and a full serving staff in royal livery and had two large living rooms, a large drawing room, a huge dining room that could seat at least a hundred as well as a cozy den. As well, Ollie came to visit her quite frequently.

As for Sondra, she finally admitted her new-found perversion and was there to greet Billie every time that Ollie came to visit Jenny. She allowed Jenny to pay an old witch to transform her into a raving beauty - a snow-white, standard-size French Poodle - just for Billie.

Also, as you very probably already know, Billie wasn't just a dog just as Ollie wasn't just an ogre. You see, Ollie was really a handsome, very muscular and heavy hung prince that had gotten a warlock jealous of his witch wife's desire for him, a desire which Ollie had not returned, so Ollie took on the Old Ogre persona to hide from them both allowing only Jenny to see him as himself.

As well, Billie had been Ollie's dog-loyal, personal servant. He also was a rather muscular and handsome man who preferred hefty, full-bodied women and had fallen for Sondra, in spite of her rather plain looks. However, neither Billie nor Sondra realized that their dog genes were not transmutable, once they'd been transformed, so as neither used protection, Sondra got pregnant and gave birth . . . to litter of five pretty poodle-golden retriever mix puppies. And man! You ought to see her trying to nurse them when night came and she was in her human body!

As for Mother Gentilly, Jenny's wish had been to earn enough money to make her happy and having done that, set her up in her own house where she entertains select "clients," all female. She is the only Madam with a primarily feminine staff and full service for female clientele in the state. She provides a few males as an accommodation to the local constabulary although she does have a few bi women and several young boys for those male and female constables of that inclination.

And so they lived happily ever after!

And my most abject apologies to the Brothers Grimm.