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Message-ID: <37882asstr$1029456651@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Laura Davis" <ldavis4@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Chris and Logan, by Laura Lynn Davis, F/F ROM
Date: Thu, 15 Aug 2002 20:10:52 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Chris and Logan, by Laura Lynn Davis, F/F ROM

ldavis4@hotmail.com

Note:  I normally don't write multi-stories but this one might rate a second 
episode.  I'll have to think about it.


	It was late September and business at the Nightshade had begun to pick up 
after the summer doldrums.  I was back in school, going for a Masters in art 
history.  It was shortly after 7:00 on a Thursday night and I was at my 
usual spot in the back booth, reading a biography of Cezanne.

	I inherited the Nightshade from my Aunt Catherine, the black sheep of the 
family, and it's put me through college and now grad school.  The last time 
I talked to my mother she blamed Catherine for the fact that I was a 
lesbian.  My father tossed me out after I was caught kissing another girl in 
the locker room after a lacrosse game.  I was sixteen at the time.  Aunt 
Catherine took me in and when she died two years later she left me 
everything.

	I glanced up and saw a slender redhead standing at the end of the bar 
talking to Cindi, my head bartender.  The girl was clearly too young and I 
was surprised that Cindi hadn't tossed her out.  She was wearing a Catholic 
school uniform and looked to be no more than sixteen.

	Cindi listened for another minute or so and then nodded.  She inclined her 
head toward the back and the girl turned and walked the length of the room.  
"Ms. Jenson?"

	I nodded.  "Yes, I'm Chris Jenson.  You shouldn't be here."

	She nodded.  "I know.  But I need your help.  Cindi said it was all right 
to talk to you."

	I glanced toward the bar and gave Cindi a look that should have curled her 
hair.  She just smiled and turned away to serve a new arrival.  "Okay, sit 
down."

	She sat.  "My name is Logan and I need to find my sister."

	"Well, Ms. Logan, what.."

	"No, Logan is my first name.  My full name is Logan Maguire."

	"Well, Ms. Maguire, what brought you here?  To me, I mean."

	She smiled.  "My cousin, Kaitlin, told me you helped her find her brother 
after he disappeared.  My sister, Jenny, ran away a few days ago.  My father 
refuses to call the police because she's pregnant."

	I remembered.  Kaitlin Murray had been a classmate during my junior year in 
college.  Her brother Kenny, a freshman, had disappeared during a trip to 
Florida on spring break.  Kaitlin went looking for him and when she called 
me from Florida I flew down and bailed her out of a tight situation.  We 
found her brother three days later in a hospital near Daytona.  He'd been 
beaten and robbed and left for dead at a motel near the beach.

	I sighed.  "Logan, finding Kenny's brother was pure luck.  It doesn't make 
me a detective."

	"Please.  I need your help."

	I made the mistake of meeting her eyes and that was it.  Her eyes were a 
deep green, flecked with gold, and I was hooked.  "Okay, I'll see what I can 
do.  I'll make some calls.  What does she look like?"

	"She looks like me."  A ghost of a smile.  "Except she's got a belly and 
she's a little shorter than I am.  She's just fifteen."

	"How old are you?"

	"I'll be eighteen next month.  I'm a senior."

	"Okay, Logan.  I'll make some calls in the morning and make the rounds of 
the shelters.  Do you need a ride home?"

	She shook her head.  "No, not tomorrow.  Now.  Please."

	She sat there staring at me with her chin up and I recognized the stubborn 
look on her face.  I should have known, what with the red hair and all.  I 
shrugged and grabbed my cell phone.  She relaxed fractionally and looked 
around while I made some calls.

	I didn't have any luck with the regular shelters.  Logan looked like she 
was going to cry when I put the phone down.  "Relax.  There's another place 
but I have to go in person.  Harley won't answer questions on the phone.  
I'll drop you off at home before I go to see him."

	I spoke to Cindi for a moment and then Logan followed me out the back door. 
  I was driving a new Ford Ranger and as I unlocked the passenger door for 
Logan she said, "I'm going with you."

	"No, you're not."  I closed the door and walked around to the driver's 
side.

	Logan reached across and opened the door for me.  "Yes, I am."

	I got in and slid the key into the ignition.  "You're going home."

	"No, I'm not!"

	I glanced over at her and saw that set, stubborn look.  Her skirt had 
ridden up quite high.  Her slender thighs were quite lovely and her knees 
were pretty.  She caught my look and pulled her skirt down.  I smiled as I 
saw her blush.  I started the Ranger and backed out of the parking space.  
"Okay, you can come along."  I caught her triumphant grin out of the corner 
of my eye.

	We crossed the river on the Portland Bridge.  Logan was staring out the 
window with a sad expression.  I reached over and touched her knee.  "Tell 
me about your sister.  Why did she run away?  When's the baby due?"

	She sighed.  "Jenny's always been a little wild.  She's a sophomore and 
she'll be sixteen in January.  She's almost eight months pregnant."

	"So why did she run now?  Your parents have known for months, haven't 
they?"

	"Yes.  But dad got laid off a few weeks ago and the other day he was 
drinking.  He said some nasty things about Jenny and there was a big fight.  
She left that night.  That was six days ago."

	"Was she planning on keeping the baby?"

	"No.  She thought about it but she finally decided to put it up for 
adoption."

	"Then Harley's a good bet.  We'll be there in about ten minutes."

	"Who is Harley?"

	"Harley is a former social worker.  He runs a place out in the county.  A 
shelter for pregnant girls.  It's totally unofficial but the authorities 
look the other way.  He takes the girls in and arranges for their babies to 
be adopted.  He collects a heft fee from the prospect parents."

	"He sells babies?"

	"Not exactly.  What he does is legal.  Borderline, but legal.  The 
authorities leave him alone because he treats the girls well and makes sure 
they have the best medical care possible.  After the baby's born he lets the 
girl recover and then he sends her on her way with a thousand dollars in her 
pocket."

	"What does he get?  I mean, how much do the people pay?"

	"Last I heard the going rate was $20-25,000.  And sometimes up to $50,000."

	Logan lapsed into silence and stared out the passenger window.  Her skirt 
had ridden up again and she looked sweet and sexy.  I reminded myself that 
she wasn't even eighteen.  "She's too damn young!"

	I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud until she glanced at me and said, "What?"

	I shook my head.  "Nothing.  Just talking to myself."

	When we got to Harley's place I told Logan to stay in the truck.  I might 
as well have told the wind to stop blowing.  She was right behind me when I 
rang the doorbell.  Harley answered the door himself and I saw his eyes 
widen when he glanced at Logan.  Bingo!

	Thirty minutes later we were back in the truck, headed back to town.  Logan 
and Jenny had talked and finally they'd agreed that staying with Harley was 
the best thing for Jenny.  Logan had promised to visit as often as she 
could.

	We were almost at the bridge when Logan asked me what she owed me.  "I have 
some money saved so I can pay you for your time."

	"That's not necessary.  I'm glad I could help."

	"I pay my debts."

	I glanced at her and saw the stubborn look.  "Okay.  You owe me a dance.  
On stage, at the Nightshade.  Nude."  I said it to shock her, to drive her 
away because I was falling in love.

	I heard her gasp and when I glanced at her she was as red as a beet.  "I 
can't..... not nude."

	I shrugged.  "Okay, forget it.  Like I said, I'm glad I could help.  Now 
tell me how to get to your house."

	"No, I'm supposed to be staying with a friend.  You can take me there."

	She gave me directions and I took the second right after we crossed the 
bridge.  I assumed she was totally disgusted with me but to make sure I put 
my hand on her knee.  After a moment I moved it onto her thigh.  She caught 
my wrist and squeezed.  Then she let go.  But she didn't push my hand off 
her leg.  I glanced at her and saw her blush.  "Let's go to the club.  I'll 
dance for you.  I always pay my debts."

	I refused.  She insisted.  We argued, shouting at each other in mutual 
frustration.  Finally I gave up and turned toward the club.  I was just 
about to turn into the parking lot when I heard a soft snore.  Logan was 
sound asleep.  I circled the block and drove to her friend's house.  She was 
still asleep when I turned the engine off.  I got out and opened the 
passenger door.  I shook her gently and she woke with a start.  She climbed 
down and swayed, leaning against me.  She looked up at me, still half 
asleep, and whispered, "Thanks.  I owe you."

	She looked adorable.  I bent and kissed her.  Her eyes widened but she 
didn't pull away.  After a moment I stepped back and said, "Go inside while 
you can."

	She turned and walked up the front walk.  I got into the Ranger and watched 
until the front door opened and she was inside.

	I had a late afternoon class on Friday and it was after six p.m. when I got 
to the bar.  Logan was sitting in the back booth wearing jeans and a 
sweatshirt.  I glared at Cindi but she just shrugged.  "She insisted on 
waiting."

	I walked back and stared down at Logan.  "What are you doing here?"

	"I came to pay my debt."  She got up and started toward the stage, pulling 
her sweatshirt up as she walked.  I caught her and pulled it down but not 
before noticing that she wasn't wearing a bra.

	She whirled around and began pulling her sweatshirt up.  The defiant, 
stubborn look was back.  I pulled it down.  We argued.  Luckily there 
weren't more than three or four customers there at that hour.  Cindi came 
back and said, "Take it outside or upstairs."

	Upstairs was my apartment and I certainly didn't want Logan up there.  We 
went out back and continued arguing.  She pulled her sweatshirt off and I 
slapped her.  "Put it back on.  Now!"

	She burst into tears and pulled her sweatshirt back on.  Her breasts were 
small but perfectly shaped, pert and pink-nippled.  "Why won't you let me 
dance and get it over with?"

	"Because I love you, damn it!"

	She stopped crying for a moment.  "But I'm not gay!"  And the tears flowed 
again.

	I stepped forward and slipped my arms around her.  "I know.  And you too 
damn young anyway."  She leaned against me and slipped her arms around me, 
sobbing.  I slipped my hands under her sweatshirt and rubbed her back.  Her 
skin was as soft as silk, warm against my palms.  I held her until she 
stopped crying.  Then we went back inside and I gave her a handful of 
tissues.  She disappeared into the bathroom and came back a few minutes 
later.  Her eyes were swollen from crying but otherwise she looked 
wonderful.

	I drove her home and dropped her at the corner of her street.  When I got 
back to the bar I was in such a foul mood that Cindi threw me out.  My mood 
lasted the entire weekend and Cindi banned me from the bar.  Telling her 
that I was the owner, not her, did no good.

	Time passed.  Slowly.  I tried to forget Logan but I wasn't very 
successful.  I tried to concentrate on my studies and while I got good 
grades I knew I could have done better.  I don't know why Cindi didn't quit 
because I was a total bitch.

	On October 14th I was sitting in my usual spot when Logan marched through 
the front door.  It was 3:15 and she was wearing her uniform and carrying 
her backpack.  Obviously she'd come straight from school.  She stopped at 
the bar and spoke to Cindi, who'd just arrived herself.  They talked for a 
couple of minutes, glancing back at me several times.

	Then Logan walked back and dropped her pack on the table.  "Cindi tells me 
you've been a total bitch for the last month."

	I glanced up.  "Hi, Logan.  Nice to see you, too.  Now get out."

	"I'm eighteen now.  I'm legal.  Maybe I can't drink but I can dance."  She 
began to unbutton her shirt.

	I thought she was bluffing so I just sat back and watched.  She slipped her 
shirt off and tossed it on top of her pack.  When she reached back to unhook 
her bra I jumped up and grabbed her arm.  "Stop. Now."

	She shrugged my hand off and unhooked her bra. That stubborn, defiant look 
was back.  I watched as she unbuttoned her skirt and slipped it off.  She 
stepped out of her loafers and bent to remove her knee socks.  Then, with 
her eyes locked on mine, she eased her panties down and stepped out of the 
them.

	She held her hand out. "Give me some quarters."

	I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handful of change.  She picked 
out four quarters and walked to the juke box.  Her slender body was lovely.  
She had a cute little ass and her legs were beautiful.  She fed the quarters 
into the juke box and stabbed the buttons randomly.

	I sat and watched as she danced.  She danced well and when the three songs 
were finished she walked back and put her clothes on.  She didn't say a word 
and she didn't look at me.  When she was dressed she picked up her backpack 
and marched out, head held high, blushing furiously.

	Cindi was at the booth a moment later.  "Don't be a total asshole, Chris.  
Go after her."

	I got up and ran for the door.  Out on the sidewalk, I glanced around.  She 
was halfway up the block, headed for the bus stop.  I ran after her.  When I 
caught up with her she refused to stop, refused to even look at me.

	I pleaded with her to stop and listen for a moment.  I apologize.  Finally, 
I said, "Okay.  I love you but I won't bother you anymore."

	She stopped and started to cry.  "But I'm *not* gay.  I'm not!"

	I nodded miserably.  "I know.  Come on.  I'll drive you home."  We walked 
back to the bar and I grabbed my keys.  She dumped her backpack behind the 
seat and climbed in.  She sat slumped in the seat, her skirt pushed up high.

	We were stopped at a traffic light when I reached over and put my hand on 
her knee.  I asked about Jenny and Logan said she was fine.  "The baby's due 
any day now."

	As I ran my hand up her leg she caught my wrist and held it for a moment.  
Then she pushed my hand back down to just above her knee.  Not a total 
rejection but a limit had been set.  I still felt guilty and after I dropped 
her off I vowed to keep my distance.

	When I got back to the bar Cindi took one look at me and said, "Get out.  
Don't come back until you've settled things."

	So I went upstairs and hit the books.  Several days passed.  Logan called 
and left a couple of messages on my machine.  I ignored them.  Then she 
called and saId that Jenny had the baby and everything was fine.

	A couple of more days passed.  I stayed away from the bar as much as 
possible.  Then Cindi called on a Friday afternoon and said that a woman was 
in the bar and wanted to see me.  I went down and found a woman in her late 
thirties standing just inside the front door.

	She identified herself as Logan's mother.  I invited her to sit but she 
said she preferred to talk outside.  I followed her out the front door.  "I 
don't hold with your lifestyle.  I want you to know that up front.  But my 
daughter is miserable and it appears that you're the cause."

	I started to speak but she held up her hand.  "Wait, let me finish.  She's 
miserable because while she maintains she's heterosexual she's apparently in 
love with you."  She stopped and stared at me expectantly.

	"I love her too.  But I don't want to hurt her."

	She nodded.  "That's what I thought.  But you are hurting her.  By staying 
away from her.  I don't like it but you have my permission to see her.  To 
date her.  If you wish."

	"What about your husband?"

	She stiffened.  "My husband is not a factor.  He no longer lives with us.  
Good day, Ms. Jenson."  She turned and walked away, stopping after a few 
feet to say, "You may call Logan after five p.m.  I should be home by then."

	I sat in the back booth and sipped a Diet Coke.  Five p.m. came and went.  
I couldn't bring myself to call her.  Finally, at 5:30, Cindi came over and 
held out her hand.  "Give me your cell phone."

	I handed it over and she dialed.  "Talk to girl, Chris.  Before you make us 
all crazy."  She handed the phone back just as Logan answered.

	We talked.  I asked her out and she accepted.  We agreed to go to a movie 
the following night.  She asked me to wear a skirt and laughed when I said I 
didn't own one.  We agreed that jeans would be fine.

	We went to see a rerun of 'Titanic'.  Neither of us liked it and we left 
after an hour.  She didn't object when I put my hand on her thigh.  
Apparently it didn't matter as long as she had jeans on.  When I tried to 
slip my hand under her sweater she pushed it away.  She did let me kiss her 
several times.  But that was it.  Limits had been set.

	We continued to date.  Movies, dinners, trips to the art museum, things 
like that.  Christmas came and went.  I gave her a gold chain with a Celtic 
Cross.  She gave me a book on art history, an expensive coffee-table book 
with lavish pictures.

	In the spring we began going on hikes and bike rides.  Our dates were still 
very chaste.  Her limits hadn't changed.  Then, in May, I picked her up from 
school one Friday afternoon because her mother was out of town on business.

	I stopped by the bar on the way to Logan's house and she waited in the 
truck while I went inside for a moment to sign some papers for Cindi.  
Later, on the way to her house, I put my hand on Logan's knee and slowly ran 
it up her thigh.  I was shocked when she didn't stop me when my hand strayed 
across the imaginary line she'd set months earlier.

	She sighed when my hand brushed against her panty-covered mound and I was 
so surprised that I pulled my hand back into my own lap.  I heard her giggle 
and gave her a sour look.  "What's so funny?"

	"You.  You've been trying to get your hand that high for months and when I 
finally let you it get's you all flustered."

	It was my turn to blush and her giggle turned to laughter.  A moment later 
I was laughing with her.  When we pulled into her driveway she asked me to 
come in for a while.  I shook my head.  "Not while your mother is away."

	"Jenny's here.  She'll chaperone."

	I shook my head.  "No.  I'll just head back to the bar."

	"Wait.  I'll drop my backpack and check on Jenny.  Then we can go for a 
ride."

	I expected her to change while she was inside but she was back in less than 
five minutes, still in her uniform.  She hopped into the Ranger and said, 
"Jenny's all set.  Let's go."

	She surprised me by flipping up the center console and sliding into the 
middle seat.  As we pulled out of the driveway she slid her hand under my 
t-shirt and rubbed my stomach.  Her head was resting on my shoulder as I 
drove and I was on top of the world.  Her skirt was up quite high and I 
enjoyed the view.  "You know," she said, "I've never seen *your* legs."

	I laughed.  "They're not nearly as nice as yours."

	She tugged at my belt.  "I want to see for myself."  She had my belt open 
and my jeans unbuttoned before I knew it.

	"Jeez, you want to cause an accident?  Wait a minute."  I pulled off into a 
parking lot in front of an auto parts place.  I lifted my butt off the seat 
as she tugged on my jeans.  Within moments they were down to my knees.  She 
worked them off over my running shoes and tossed them onto the floor on the 
passenger side.

	As I pulled back onto the road she stroked my thigh and said, "You've got 
nice legs.  Darn nice legs."  Then she giggled.  "Are those thong panties 
you're wearing?"

	I felt myself blushing.  "What if they are?"

	"I just never expected it.  I had you figured for plain cotton panties.  
Especially under jeans.  Which is all you seem to wear."
She tucked her hand between my legs, cupping my mound, and sighed.  "Where 
are we going?"

	I couldn't answer for a moment 'cause I was daydreaming, remembering how 
she'd looked dancing nude, the red flame of pubic hair between her slender 
thighs.  "Out ... out to the lake."

	She squeezed my mound gently.  "Good."  A moment later I heard her whisper, 
"I'm still not gay."

	"Doesn't seem to make much difference, does it?"

	She shook her head.  "No, I guess not."

	When we got to the lake I parked in a quiet spot, backing the truck in so 
we could see if anyone was coming.  She surprised me by insisting on 
stripping me, not letting me touch her at all.  When I was completely nude 
she nodded in satisfaction.  "Nice body.  For an older woman, that is."

	I swatted her.  "I'm only twenty-two."

	"When's your birthday?"

	"First of July."

	She tweaked my nipple.  "God!  You're old!"

	I put my hand under her chin and lifted her head until I could kiss her.  
She resisted for a moment when my tongue darted between her lips but then 
she relaxed and I pushed my tongue into her mouth.  After a long kiss she 
leaned back and said, "Wow."

	She fondled my breasts and said she liked them.  "I wish they were bigger."

	"They're bigger than mine."

	I sighed as she ran her hand down over my belly, between my legs.  She was 
fascinated by my total lack of pubic hair.  When I explained the reason she 
blushed and said, "Oh."

	She refused to let me undress her and wouldn't even let me unhook her bra.  
But she wasn't shy about exploring my body.  I would have expected the 
opposite from someone who professed that she wasn't gay.  And for someone 
who wasn't gay she seemed to know what she was doing.  I closed my eyes and 
moaned with pleasure as she masturbated me to orgasm.

	She continued to fondle me and soon I reached orgasm again.  Then, because 
it was getting near dinner time, I got dressed and drove her home.  I stayed 
up late that night to study and so I wasn't thrilled when I heard my 
doorbell the next morning.

	It was shortly after 7:00 a.m. when I stumbled down the front stairs and 
opened the door.  I was wearing an undershirt, a boy's size, made of thin, 
skinny-ribbed cotton and a pair of panties.  I tried wearing a man's size 
but the armholes were way too big.  I glanced through the peephole and saw 
Logan's smiling face.

	"God, what are you doing here at this hour?"

	She brushed past.  "Hi, Chris.  It's good to see you, too."

	I shut the door and turned the dead bolt.  Logan slipped her arms around me 
and I turned my head when she tried to kiss me.  "Morning mouth.  I was 
asleep!"

	She followed me upstairs and watched while I brushed my teeth.  Then to the 
kitchen where I pulled out a carton of OJ out of the refrigerator.  She made 
a face when I drank right from the carton.  When I was done she slid her 
arms around me and we kissed.  She slid her hands into my panties and 
caressed my bare bottom.  "God, I love your body!"

	"I'm hungry!  God, it's way too early to be up."

	"Stop grumbling.  I'll cook breakfast after."

	"Cook?"

	"Yes.  You know.  You take things out of the refrigerator and prepare them 
on the stove."

	"I don't think so."

	"Of course I can cook."

	I opened the refrigerator and stepped aside.  She looked in and saw one 
dried up lemon, a six-pack Genessee ale, a half-empty bottle of wine, and 
the carton of OJ.  "Oh."

	"Oh is right."

	"What do you do for meals around here?"

	"For breakfast I go over to the bagel place.  I eat the rest of my meals 
downstairs."

	"We'll go shopping later."

	"I'm hungry now."

	She grabbed my hand.  "Come on.  Take a shower and then we'll go to the 
bagel place."

	I grumbled as she led me down the hall to the bathroom.  She put the seat 
down on the toilet and chatted while I showered.  When I was done she stood 
up and said, "Sit.  I'll dry your hair."

	So I straddled the toilet and stared at my reflection in the mirror that 
covered most of the wall while she dried my thick blonde hair.  When she was 
done she followed me into the bedroom and sat down on my bed, pulling me 
down beside her.  She fondled my breasts and soon I was sighing with 
pleasure as she teased my clit with the tip of her finger.

	After my orgasm I rolled over on my belly and she stroked my buttocks and 
thighs while I came down.  I glanced over my shoulder and said, "For someone 
who's not gay you sure know how to please a girl."

	She slapped my butt playfully.  "I thought you were hungry?  Get dressed 
and we'll go."

	I let the abrupt change of subject slide and got dressed.  Of course she 
quibbled with my choice of jeans and wasn't satisfied until I dug out a pair 
of khaki shorts.  Then she found a black tank top in my closet and finally 
we were ready to go.  I felt very sexy since I wore no bra or panties.

	As we walked up the street to the bagel place she held my hand and said, 
"If it was up to me you'd me naked.  I love your body and I want you nude as 
much as possible."

	"It is up to you."

	I caught her thoughtful glance but didn't let on.  At the bagel place she 
told me to grab a table while she got in line.  She came back with several 
bagels, two kinds of cream cheese (plain and veggie) and two cups of coffee. 
  It was wonderful!

	As we walked back to my place with the leftover bagels in a bag she asked 
me what I meant when I said it was up to her.  "Figure it out for yourself."

	We spent the morning together - me nude, her fully clothed.  It was 
satisfying and frustrating.  Shortly after noon I drove her home because she 
and her mother had an appointment over at the university.  She'd planned to 
go down to Connecticut to school but had changed her mind.

	Later that afternoon she called me and said they'd been successful in 
persuading the admissions people to accept her for the fall term.  I didn't 
see her again until Tuesday.  She called me in the morning and asked me to 
pick her up after school.  When I picked her up she told me her mother was 
out of town again and Jenny was staying with a friend.  "I can stay over if 
you'll drop me at school in the morning."

	When we got to my place we went in the back and made a brief stop in the 
bar so I could talk to Cindi.  As we climbed the back stairs she told me 
she'd just read 'The Story of O'.  I stopped and looked back at her.  "And?"

	She shrugged.  "It was mildly interesting."

	I masked my disappointment with a smile and a quick kiss.  "Oh, well.  
That's too bad."

	She'd been keeping my refrigerator stocked and she cooked dinner while I 
sat and watched.  I was nude, she was wearing shorts and a tank top.  I was 
puzzled when she only put one plate on the table.  Then she disappeared into 
the bedroom and I followed.  I watched her rummage through her backpack and 
caught my breath when she pulled out a length of clothesline.

	She tied my wrists behind my back, not tight, but tight enough to keep me 
from getting free without some effort.  Then we went back to the kitchen and 
she put dinner on the table.  She put me on my knees beside her chair and 
fed me scraps, using her fingers.  It was very erotic and I enjoyed being 
helpless.

	She kept me tied for the rest of the night.  When I had to pee she crouched 
in front of me and pushed my knees apart.  When I was done she dried me with 
a wad of toilet paper.  It was humiliating, and very exciting.  I had to 
sleep on my belly.  I thought I might have trouble but after she brought me 
to orgasm three times I had no trouble falling asleep.  She wore a t-shirt 
and panties to bed.  The next morning I saw her nude for the second time 
since we met.  She showered while I watched, kneeling on the tile, my wrists 
still tied.

	When she came out of the shower I eased myself down onto my belly and 
licked her feet while she dried herself off.  She crouched and ruffled my 
hair.  "You're such a good bitch."

	She untied me after a hasty breakfast and I drove her to school.  I was 
wearing just a t-shirt and panties and my running shoes.

	She graduated a week later.  Ten days later I turned twenty-three.  We 
celebrated by going out to dinner.  She surprised me, shocked me really, by 
giving me a black leather slave collar.  She gave it to me at dinner and 
asked me to put it on.  I did, not caring what anyone thought.  The collar 
was hand-tooled English leather around a metal core.  It locked 
automatically when closed and required a special key to open it.  Logan wore 
the key on a chain.

	I wore a dress that night for the first time in years.  Logan told me I 
looked lovely and decided I should wear a dress more often.  Of course I 
wasn't wearing anything underneath expect a pair of black thigh highs.

	After dinner we drove out to the lake.  I'd borrowed Cindi's car for the 
evening and Logan had me pull my dress up around my waist before I got into 
the car.  She teased me with soft touches on my thighs and pubes and I was 
completely frustrated by the time we got to the lake.

	She spanked me for the first time that night.  Twenty-three slaps on my 
bare bottom and then one for luck.  She spanked me hard enough to make it 
sting.  Then she kept me across her lap while she masturbated me.  When I 
was on the brink she pushed her thumb into my anus and I exploded, screaming 
with pleasure as I came!

	Now it's August and brutally hot.  Logan likes to watch me exercise in the 
spare room where I have a stairmaster, some free weights, and a Bowflex.  
She likes to see me sweat.  I exercise nude of course.  And when I'm all hot 
and sweaty she masturbates me to repeated orgasms.

	She still hasn't let me touch her and she refuses to use any toys - no 
dildos or vibrators.  And no tongue, just her fingers.  But it's just a 
matter of time.

The End

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