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From: Kalisha Connors <kalishaconnors@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 29 May 2003 05:55:33 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: {ASSM} Kalisha Turns the Tables (MF,FF,FFF,ds,cons)
Date: Fri, 30 May 2003 07:10:02 -0400
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(c) 2003 by Kalisha Connors.  All rights reserved.  This is the
second Kalisha story, coming after "Kalisha does a 360," but
having read the previous installments is not required.
 
Kalisha Turns the Tables
 

Steve Wilcox put his hands on the oaken desk of the attractive
young woman and leaned over to talk to her.  He let his eyes roam
over her a bit.  She was tall-- taller than he was, at least in
heels, but fortunately she was sitting and he was standing.  Her
hair was black, and her eyes a deep brown, with a vaguely exotic
shape to them.  Her skin was just a little darker than the Irish
name of "Connors" suggested.  She wore a off-white silk chemise
underneath her suit jacket-- a little sexier than the shell most
of the women who worked at the accounting firm of Ferris,
Johnson, and Thoms wore, but not too unprofessional.

He took a moment to imagine her naked.  High, firm breasts-- 36
C, he guessed, neither too large nor too small.  Long legs.  He
didn't have to do too much imagining-- after all, he'd seen her
naked, on stage.  He smiled.  She was going to be his.

"Miss Connors," he said, "We have a new project for you."

 

***

            

Kalisha Connors looked up and met the eyes of the man looming
above her.  She felt his lust, too, sensed it.  This was a man
who liked to be in control.  A little of that could be fun.  But
there was something darker, something that hinted at more than
just fun and games.  Furthermore, the man was a junior partner in
the firm, even with her boss, the younger Mr. Johnson.

"Mr. Wilcox, what can I do for you?"

"I have a new account for you," said Wilcox, sitting on the edge
of her desk.

Kalisha frowned.  "You'll have to talk to Mr. Johnson," she said.
 "I've got two accounts going right now, and they both look like
they'll take a while."

Wilcox nodded.  "I talked to him.  You're off those now.  You've
been reassigned to me."  He smiled.  Kalisha thought he looked
hawk-like, perched like that on her desk.

Kalisha hated to leave something unfinished, but she nodded. 
"Alright."

"Give any folders you have on the old accounts to the new guy--
Kenneth Smythe.  He'll wrap them up for you, but you'll still get
credit for them.  Now you'll be working on this."

He tossed a folder on her desk.

"This is the L. Ron Crossing account.  Very lucrative, very
important to the company.  You see, you're moving up in the
world."

Kalisha smiled.  L. Ron Crossing was indeed an important account,
a company that had been growing by leaps and bounds in recent
years.  FJ&T had been with them since the beginning.

"Your job is just to certify that all their books are in order,
and sign the firm's name to that effect.  There's a promotion in
it for you.  Are we clear?"

"Crystal," said Kalisha.

Wilcox smiled.  "Good."

Kalisha watched him go.  She knew he had seen her in the strip
club.  Was this transfer, and this new responsibility just
coincidence?

She spent an hour fixing up the old accounts, making sure the
work on them was at a good point for Smythe to take over.  Smythe
was cute.  He liked to sneak peeks at her legs when he thought
she wasn't looking.  Sometimes she caught him thinking about
going down on her.  Ever since that day at the strip club, she
had been able to sense people's lustful thoughts-- a result, she
was sure, of her connection with the ancient goddess of Lust --
and they had been getting clearer and clearer with practice.

"Thank you, ma'am," Smythe said, as she handed him the folders.
"I'll do this for you."

Was it her imagination, or was Smythe really thinking, "I'll do
anything for you?"

 

***

 

It took her another hour before she found the first mistake in
the L. Ron Crossing books, but after that it was easy.  Income
was double booked.  Expenses were reclassified as assets.  Money
was shuffled from one division to another to create the illusion
of profits.  The level of duplicity both fascinated and horrified
her.  The only break she took was to get a steaming mug of
coffee, which she then largely forgot to drink.

"Miss Connors?  Aren't you going for lunch?"

She looked up, unaware she had been so engrossed.  It was Wilcox,
who had opened her door and was looking in.

"You're very dedicated," said Wilcox with a smile.  "That's why I
wanted you on my team.  But you need to eat now and then.  It's
after one."

She hesitated.  "Mr. Wilcox, there's something wrong with these
books."

Wilcox took a step in and let the door shut behind him.  He
crossed the few feet to her desk.  "Now, Miss Connors, I'm sure
there's nothing wrong with those books.  L. Ron Crossing is a
very successful, important company.  A very important customer of
this company, I mean."

Kalisha shook her head.  "No.  I mean, there's a lot of
somethings wrong with these books."  She opened the folder,
pulled out a page.  "Look here."

Wilcox took the paper out of her hand, and put it back, closing
the folder again.  "Miss Connors, L. Ron Crossing has a way of
coming through for the people who handle their accounts, if they
do a good job.  We're talking more than just taking you out to
dinner.  What kind of car would you like to drive?"

Kalisha frowned.  "I live in the city, I like to walk," she told
Wilcox, pointedly.

Wilcox smiled.  "On the other hand, people who don't do a good
job, who find mistakes where there aren't any, and so forth --
well, you could be out of a job."

Kalisha felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.  "I'll tell Mr.
Thoms--"

"Yes, I'm sure he'll take the word of a stripper on this.  Quite
persuasive.  Mr. Thoms, you may know, goes to church not once but
twice every Sunday.  He could be said to have rather conservative
views on things.  You see, Miss Connors, you either play ball,
and profit -- or you're going to be reading a pink slip."

Kalisha fought to control herself.  "I see."

Wilcox smiled again.  Kalisha was beginning to hate that smile. 
"I'm glad that we're off to such a good relationship, Miss
Connors.  May I call you Kalisha?  I think I shall."  His gaze
drifted downward, just for a second, away from her eyes.

Slave.  That was what he was thinking.  If she did the L. Ron
Crossing job, he'd have even more to hold over her.

His eyes drifted upward, but not quite to her eyes.  To her lips.
 He's thinking about a blow job, thought Kalisha.

"Don't forget lunch, Kalisha.  It's important to swallow
something occasionally."

She watched him leave.  So confident, she thought.  The sensible
thing to do was to simply hand over what she had, give her
notice, and walk away from the accounting business for good. 
Stripping might not pay as well, but it was a lot more fun, and
she'd get by.  But Wilcox was probably right-- old Mr. Thoms
wouldn't believe her, not once her past was revealed, and L. Ron
Crossing would keep pulling the wool over its stockholder's eyes.
 And Wilcox-- he would come out of it all just fine.

That just couldn't be allowed to happen.

 

***

 

"What do you think of Steve Wilcox?" Kalisha asked.  She had
closed the door to the office of Kevin Abramowicz, Human
Resources Manager.

Kevin sat at his desk, looking up at her.  There were two
computers on Kevin's desk, and it was hard to find space to perch
on the corner.  Something other than just professional thoughts
went through Kevin's mind when he saw her, and that was why
Kalisha had come to him.

"Wilcox?  Oh, yeah, you got transferred.  Strange thing, but Old
Mr. Johnson seemed to think you were coming on to Young Mr.
Johnson.  Wilcox is an arrogant SOB, but he's smart, real smart.
Up and coming, might make senior partner.  Stay on his good side
and you could go far, but staying on his good side might be
tough."

"What else?  Any odd stories?"

Kevin shrugged.  "He's married, married a young CPA who worked
here for about six months.  She was a real go-getter, very
ambitious, and very attractive.  Never went out on dates with
guys, either in or out of office.  Everyone here thought she was
gay, and then suddenly she and Wilcox are getting married in a
week and she's handed in her resignation.  So then the office
gossip was that she was pregnant, but no baby was forthcoming. 
She comes to company parties now and then, always dressed like a
million dollars, with a plastic smile that can't be honest. 
That's the oddest thing about Steve Wilcox."

"I see.  Could I see their files?"

Kevin blinked.  "You know I can't do that."

"Wouldn't be professional, would it?"  Kalisha leaned over,
letting her chemise drift away from her chest a little.

"Exactly."

"Don't you sometimes want to do unprofessional things?"

His eyes were on her chest, now, staring down her cleavage.  He
mumbled a reply.  Kalisha knew what he wanted.

"You really like tits, don't you, Kevin.  I bet the thing you
like to do most with a girl is just slide that cock of yours
between their tits until you come all over them, isn't it?" 
Kalisha took off her jacket.

Kevin nodded, slowly.  "Most girls don't--"

Kalisha shook her head.  "I'm not most girls.  I'm a girl who
wants to look at a personnel file."  She started to lift the
chemise over her head.  She had the finest in Victoria's Secret
push up bras underneath, and she suspected Kevin would be
pleased.

He was.

"Keep the bra on," he whispered, his voice hoarse.  He undid his
pants quickly.  She knelt on the floor next to his chair.

He had a nice looking cock, circumcised, not too wide to circle
with a finger a thumb.  He slid it underneath the taut fabric of
her bra, until it nestled in her cleavage.  It was long enough
that Kalisha could tilt her head down and give the tip a playful
lick with each upthrust.

Kalisha gave him a smile, and licked her lips.  It didn't take
him long before he came, white cream dribbling from her
collarbone down into the valley of her breasts.  She cleaned him
off by taking him into her mouth.

Moments later, two files were on their way from his computer to
Kalisha's, and Kalisha, dressed again, was on her way back to her
office.  Kevin, meanwhile, sat staring at the door, trying to
make sense of just what had happened.

 

***

 

"Working hard?" asked Wilcox.

Kalisha quickly clicked on the mouse.  It wouldn't do to let
Wilcox know he was going through his file.  "Um, Yeah."

Wilcox grinned.  "They expect us to take some time with the L.
Ron Crossing books, Kalisha.  So find some things to amuse
yourself.  Play solitaire, if you like."

"Um, thanks, Mr. Wilcox."

"Anytime, Kalisha."

When he left, Kalisha brought up the files Kevin had sent her
again.  Sure enough, Cindy Wilcox, nee van Meteren, had just
finished working on the L. Ron Crossing account when she resigned
to be a happy housewife.  Had Wilcox used that to blackmail her
into marrying him?  If so, she wasn't likely to be a very happy
person.  Jail or being married to slime-- close call, Kalisha
thought, but I think I'd opt for jail.

An idea formed in Kalisha's mind.  She picked up the phone, and
made some calls.  And waited.

Wilcox came in again to check in on her, just before closing
time.

"Keeping yourself busy?" he asked.

Kalisha nodded, and forced a smile.  "Oh yes.  Just... checking
out a few websites.  You know the sort of thing."  She blushed.

Wilcox's eyes narrowed with interest.  "Oh, really?  Why don't
you tell me what sort of thing?"

Kalisha blushed some more.  "You know, erotic stories and such."

"And what sort of stories do you like?"

"One's w-with, very strong men," said Kalisha.  "Who really know
what they want."  And who aren't assholes, Kalisha added
mentally.

"Oh really," said Wilcox thoughtfully.

I've got him hooked now, she thought.  "I think you might be that
sort of man, Mr. Wilcox.  The way you took control of the
situation this morning.  At first I was mad about being pushed
around like that, but then I found I kind of liked it."

Wilcox grinned broadly.  "Ah.  I think we have a long future
together, Kalisha."

Kalisha smiled.  "I hope so."  She paused, and then her eyes lit
up as if thinking of something for the first time.  "Are you
going to come by the club tonight?"

Wilcox hesitated.  "I hadn't been planning on it."

"Because I'd like to... you know, do a special dance.  Just for
you."

Wilcox laughed.  "I take it then, that we have an understanding
on the L. Ron Crossing account."

"We understand each other perfectly, Mr. Wilcox."

"I'll be there at the 360 at eight, then.  And I'll look forward
to your dance.  If that's what you call what you do."

"Oh, I do more than dance," Kalisha said with a wink.  "The dance
is just to get you warmed up."

"How 'bout a sample?" said Wilcox with a leer.

Kalisha thought fast, "Well, Mr. Johnson said he was going to
check up on me, so... maybe after dancing would be better."

Wilcox laughed.  "Right you are.  Brains and beauty.  How
delightful."  He stood up, and walked out.

 

***

            

Kalisha's celphone rang in the back of the taxicab.

"Kalisha?  Wendy.  He's here."

"Good," said Kalisha.  Wendy was one of the strippers at the 360
club.  "Keep him there.  Call me if he leaves."

"Okay!  Bye!"

Kalisha reached forward, handing a sheet of paper to the taxi
driver.  "This address.  I'll need you to wait for me there after
you drop me off."

"Alrighty, lady.  How long a wait?"

"An hour, maybe."

The taxi driver grunted, and pulled at his black bushy mustache.
"It'll cost you, lady."

Kalisha nodded.  "I can afford it.  Just do what I ask, and you
won't be sorry."

Wilcox lived in a large house in the suburbs.  The fence outside
was wrought iron, with spikes; the lawn had a chemically treated
uniformity to it.  There was a black Lexus in the driveway, and a
woman was getting into it.  She was shorter than Kalisha, a
peroxide blonde, and she wore a short red dress that hugged her
curvy figure.  Nice legs, thought Kalisha.  The woman looked
about furtively as she opened the door.

Shit.  Kalisha leaned forward. "Park her in."

"Lady, I --," the taxi driver protested.

"Park her in," insisted Kalisha.  "Fifty bucks."

Wordlessly, the taxicab pulled in behind the Lexus.  The woman,
who was just starting the engine, glanced back, startled.  But
rather than getting out of the car, the woman turned off the
engine and sunk down into the seat, as if hoping she wouldn't be
noticed.

Kalisha shoved three fifties at the driver, and said, "Wait
here."  She swung the door open before the Taxi driver could even
think of getting out to get it, and walked towards the Lexus. 
She knocked on the window.  The blonde straightened, and rolled
it down.

"Mrs. Wilcox?"

The woman nodded.

"I'm Kalisha Connors.  I have the L. Ron Crossing account, and we
need to talk."

The blonde paled, her skin tone nearly matching the color of her
hair.  "I--"

"Inside."

Slowly, Mrs. Wilcox got out of the car.  Without another word,
she walked to the door and led Kalisha inside.

Kalisha followed, and then looked around.  The Wilcox living room
was opulent, with plush white carpeting and black leather
couches, a few expensive Modern Art originals on the walls, and
an intricate chandelier for lighting.  "May I get you anything to
drink, Miss Connors?" asked Mrs. Wilcox, her voice shaking a
little.

"No thank you," said Kalisha.  She took off her coat, and tossed
it casually on the couch.  She wore another chemise beneath it,
but not the one she wore to work-- this one was was black, lace
trimmed, and showed a little more cleavage.  She patted the seat
next to her.

Mrs. Wilcox eyes took in Kalisha's outfit, and hesitantly sat
down.  And from that one look Kalisha knew the woman was hoping
that somehow the encounter would turn into sex.

Kalisha, actually, was hoping the same thing.

 

***

 

At the 360 club, Steve Wilcox waited impatiently for Kalisha to
take the stage.  Not that he didn't enjoy looking at the other
dancers, but he had passed up a chance to socialize with those
who had more money than he did to watch Kalisha dance.  And
money, well, money was what mattered.  Money was what made women
kneel at your feet, let you drive a fancy new car.  Money could
even make a woman punctual.  But most importantly, Money was
power, as the strange gentleman he had met over a year ago had
told him.

God of Wealth, the man had said he was.  And occasionally of the
underworld, he had added, as if those two went naturally
together.  When he turned a crystal wine glass into solid gold,
Steve Wilcox had become a believer.  And when the man, or god,
had asked for Steve Wilcox to become his follower, well, having
the god of Wealth on his side seemed so much better than having
the god of the underworld against him.

He suspected that Hades would not approve of how he had arranged
his priorities tonight.  He looked at his watch.  Eight twenty.

The redheaded dancer he had seen before was dancing, and stopped
to crouch in front of him, even though he hadn't tipped her.

"Kali's a little late," the redhead whispered.  "She had to get a
special costume, she said."

Wilcox frowned.

The redhead winked.  "I think she likes you."  And then she was
gone.

Maybe I should buy this whole club, thought Wilcox, as he stared
after Wendy's ass.  Then I could fire the strippers if they
didn't go down on me.

The thought made Wilcox hard, and he stayed.

 

***

 

Kalisha sidled closer to Mrs. Wilcox.  "Now Cindy-- you don't
mind if I call you Cindy, do you?"

Cindy shook her head.  Kalisha patted her knee.

"I've been looking through the files, and it seems like you had
the L. Ron Crossing account a couple years ago.  And the books--
while, they've been rotten for at least three years.  Does your
husband know about this?"

Cindy gulped, and looked unsure of what to answer.  Yes, in other
words, thought Kalisha.  The red dress Cindy wore was quite
short, and Kalisha slid her hand up from the woman's knee to mid
thigh.  "In fact, he's blackmailing you, isn't he?"

Cindy hesitated, then nodded.  Kalisha turned, bending towards
her, her face just an inch from the small blonde.

"What's sex with him like, Cindy?" asked Kalisha.  "I want to
know, because, well, I think he's interested in me."

"He's... very rough.  He likes -- absolute obedience," said
Cindy, and Kalisha could tell the thought turned Cindy on.  "Did
he-- did he send you?"  And that thought turned Cindy on more.

Kalisha smiled.  "Maybe.  Maybe not.  Do you like it rough?"
asked Kalisha.

"Sometimes," said Cindy.  Kalisha could feel the woman's breath
on her lips.

Kalisha slid her hand underneath Cindy's skirt, just playing with
the hem.  "Do you like it with women?"

Cindy nodded.

"Does your husband send many women over for you?"

Cindy shook her head.  "Never."  Her eyes locked with Kalisha, as
if trying desperately to discern what the taller woman was going
to do.

Kalisha kissed her softly on the lips, and then pulled back.  She
sensed Cindy's frustration.

"You see, Cindy, your husband is trying to blackmail me, just
like he blackmailed you.  But I don't think he's going to let you
use me-- or even the other way around.  I think he just wants us
both to himself.  But he doesn't have the hold on me he thinks he
does-- I can afford to lose my job, and I've not done anything
illegal-- as much as he'd like me to."

Cindy blinked.

"So I'm thinking of going to the police."

Cindy's gasped.  "It would ruin me," said Cindy.  "They'd lock me
up."

Kalisha shrugged.  "It would ruin your husband, too."

Cindy made a face.  "That would almost make it worth it."

"Why didn't you blow the whistle, yourself?" asked Kalisha
gently.  She put an arm around Cindy's shoulder.

"I was -- I was stupid.  I had made a mistake on another account,
and lied to cover it up.  And Steve found out.  He made me forge
the L. Ron Crossing books, and then he made me marry him.  I-- my
father's rich, he hopes to inherit."

"And he wanted your body, I bet."  Kalisha traced just above the
scooped neckline of the red dress with her finger.  "I can't
blame him for that."

Cindy shivered.

"But you should have stood up to him."

Cindy sighed.  "I'm not that kind of woman, Kalisha.  Steve found
out that, too, found about about my lovers.  I like-- to be
controlled.  At least in bed.  Not like this, but -- well, I have
to work at standing up for myself."  She looked at Kalisha.  "Are
you going to turn us in?  You are, aren't you?  Or did you just
come to blackmail me?  You -- I'd make love to you willingly, you
don't have to--"

 Kalisha put a finger to Cindy's lips, hushing her.  "I know,
dear.  I know.  You can't fight back, because he knows you'd take
the fall, too.  But me... I can do it for you.  Because I can
make him believe I don't care about either of you.  Even if we
both know that's a lie."

Cindy smiled, just a little.

"I think we can use your submissive desires to our advantage,
too," said Kalisha.

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait for him to come home," said Kalisha.  "So pretty much,
we just have to pass the time."  Kalisha kissed Cindy again. 
"Got any ideas?"

Cindy took hold of one of the spaghetti straps to the Chemise,
and pulled it to the side, revealing a breast.  "Yes," she
breathed.

"That can be 'yes, mistress,' if it would make it more fun for
you," Kalisha murmured.

Cindy slid off the couch, kneeling on the floor.  "Yes,
Mistress." said Cindy.  "May I pleasure you with my tongue?"

Kalisha smiled.  "You most certainly may.  But maybe we should
move to the bedroom-- because I'd like to taste you, too."

Cindy smiled, and got to her feet, her behind swaying as she led
the way.

 

***

 

Steve Wilcox was not in a happy mood when he pulled up into the
driveway.  The sight of the Lexus cheered him up a little-- he
had told his wife not to sneak out, but she often did anyway. 
Usually, he enjoyed beating her for it, but this time he had
every intention of using his belt on her whether she had done
something or not.  And then fucking her in the ass, once her skin
was nice and red, and then making her give him a blow job.  Then
she could dance for him.  The thought of her dancing brought him
full circle to thinking about Kalisha, and he got angry all over
again.

He opened the door.

"Slave!  Get me a drink."

There was no answer.  He frowned.  She must be asleep.  He
thought of violently waking her up, rolled the thought over in
his mind for a minute while he poured himself a scotch and soda.
He took his belt off, and walked to the bedroom.

He blinked.  There was Kalisha Connors, dressed in a business
suit, and there, kneeling at her feet, was his own wife, naked
except for a black collar with a dangling silver O-ring.  And in
both their gazes was an unmistakable challenge.

"What the fuck?"

 

***

 

"There's been a change in plans, you see," said Kalisha.  "I've
decided I'd rather blackmail you than have you blackmail me.  And
Cindy-- well, I have all the evidence I need against her, so for
her it's just a choice of who to be blackmailed by.  And you've
made your choice, haven't you, pet?"  She patted Cindy on the top
of the head.  She never envisioned herself as a dominatrix, but
she had to make the act convincing.

"Yes, Mistress," replied Cindy meekly.  She tilted her head up to
kiss Kalisha's palm.

Wilcox just stared for a long time.  Finally, he spoke, his words
slow. "I see.  And what do you plan to do?"

"I intend to walk out of this house, and take your Lexus -- your
wife's Lexus, now, and take your wife -- my slave, now -- and
take them both to my little apartment.  And then I'm going to
hand the L. Ron Crossing account to Mr. Thoms, and tell him
what's wrong with it -- without actually implicating you, or your
wife, because, well, I like the idea of having a boss who will
give me free time any time I want.  Free time I can use to go
home and enjoy your wife's lovely tongue.  Of course, if you say
anything to cost me my job, well, that would be a different
matter."

Wilcox frowned.  "You don't have anything on me.  My name has
never been on any of those accounts."

Kalisha sighed.  "No, I don't.  But Cindy here knows all about
some of your deals, and she can talk, and talk, and talk.  There
won't be any reason for her not to, once I point out who cooked
the books in the first place.  She might even get a lighter
sentence for it.  I don't think you can afford for that to
happen."

"You'd be fired."

Kalisha looked at him incredulously.  "So fucking what?"

Wilcox blinked.  "You can't make nearly enough stripping."

"It's not about money, Stevie.  That's what you don't get.  It's
about sex.  It's all about sex.  I'm just doing what gets me the
most sex.  Get it, now?"

Wilcox put his belt down.  Kalisha walked briskly past him. 
Cindy crawled after Kalisha, and then got to her feet when she
realized she'd never keep up.

Wilcox grabbed Cindy's arm as she passed.  She shook it off,
leaving him standing there alone with his drink.

The sound of shattering glass followed them out to the car.

 

***

"It feels strange," said Cindy, sipping a Margarita and fidgeting
in her chair.  She was sitting with Kalisha and Wendy at the
rooftop cafe a few blocks from Kalisha's apartment, and it was a
beautiful Sunday afternoon.

"What's strange?" asked Wendy.

"Wearing panties," said Cindy.

"You mean he didn't let you wear panties?  Ever?"

Cindy shook her head.  "This is the first time in two years.  He
didn't even let me own any.  No skirts below mid thigh, no pants,
no panties."

"Welcome to freedom," said Wendy.

Cindy, though, looked over at Kalisha.  There was an
uncomfortable silence.

"I'm only wearing them," said Cindy at last, "because Kalisha
bought them for me."

Kalisha looked over at her, shaking her head in amusement.  "And
if I told you to take them off?"

"I'd do it instantly," Cindy said proudly.

"I'm not sure I like this," said Kalisha, frowning.

Cindy laughed.  "I'm not sure you have a choice.  I mean, if you
don't keep me, then Steve is going to find out, and then he's
going to wonder if it's all an act, and then he'll wonder if you
really have the sort of control over me that would make me
incriminate myself to rat on him.  Your whole scheme would fall
apart."

Wendy laughed.

"Are you blackmailing me?" asked Kalisha.

Cindy looked aside.  "Blackmail," she said softly, "is such an
ugly term."

"I think you should make her dance at the club," said Wendy to
Kalisha.  "Since you're so in control and everything."

"I agree with Wendy," Cindy said.

Kalisha frowned.  "Fine.  I'll make you do whatever you want to
do."  And then she laughed and took a sip from her own Margarita.
 "I think that when we're done here, we should go back to my
place.  And no panties, or any other clothing, will be allowed."

"I'm in, Mistress Kali," said Wendy with a giggle.

"As my Mistress commands," said Cindy.  "Not even a collar?"

"Especially not a collar," said Kalisha, firmly.

 

 



Kalisha Connors -- Erotica Writer
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Kalisha/www

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