Apr 262006

Amaya woke from a strange dream and turned off her alarm. Helen hadn’t budged from her bed. Amaya took a moment to wake up and realized that this was the first morning in weeks that she didn’t have to have crackers for breakfast. That was when she remembered everything that had happened yesterday.

When she rolled out of bed, she felt her thong tug on her pubic hair. For a brief second she wondered if her memories of yesterday had been a dream but the thong dispelled that idea. While waiting for her financial aid, Amaya had dreamed of receiving her money almost every night. The disappointment that accompanied waking up had become a habit. Now, as Amaya dug into the take-out box of refried rice that was left over from last night, she realized that she didn’t have to wake up disappointed ever again.

On the other hand, there was the disappointment of last night. Amaya had gone to the restaurant that Wesley had recommended but she didn’t see him. Well, she couldn’t even be sure of that. She saw one handsome guy sitting alone at a table but he never looked at her. Amaya kept waiting for Wesley to appear and come to her table but after a half-hour, she had to admit she wasn’t coming. At least the food was good.

She selected a purple bra to wear today along with a black Sailor Moon t-shirt. Amaya picked the shirt in case Wesley had her getting sweaty again. The thong tugged against her sex and she was surprised to find herself already wet. She briefly wondered if Wesley would make her get sweaty on a more intimate level.

Amaya’s eyes widened as she realized where her thoughts were headed. It was foolish of her. All she knew of Wesley was that he was willing to give starving co-eds money in exchange for their underwear. She remembered how he knew she used to be in the tennis squad, which meant he had done some research on her. All of Amaya’s common sense told her that Wesley was a stalker at the very least if not something meaner and potentially nastier.

“But he had such a nice voice,” Amaya whispered in the early morning. He did have a nice voice. Deep, kind and just a little Southern, Amaya had warmed up to him instantly despite his strange commands. He was encouraging and he didn’t gloat at having her do things. Amaya felt like he was pulling for her, even though he was the one setting the game.

“God, I must be lonely,” Amaya said. She reminded herself that this was just a game and that she was going to quit as soon as it got weird or dangerous. Three hundred dollars was enough to carry her till her check came in. There was no need to get any more involved than she was with this stranger.

Amaya headed to the showers and tried to put Wesley in the back of her mind. All the money he could offer wasn’t as important as getting her mind back onto her classes. She reasoned that he might not even call today, he certainly didn’t specify.

Amaya took the cell phone to the shower anyway, just in case.

The classes dragged that day. Amaya was usually an excellent student but she found her attention wondering. Professors talked but Amaya didn’t hear what they were saying. Each professor was a possible suspect for the mysterious Wesley. Was it Professor Gering who always called on her first? Could it be Professor Rendell who had the same accent as Wesley? Amaya watched each one carefully but couldn’t find any clue that they might be her benefactor.

The thong was another sweet distraction. Amaya didn’t know how women wore them everyday. For her, the thong’s constant tugging of between her buttocks and the tight pull against her pubic hair was like foreplay. By her second class, Amaya was squirming in her chair and fighting the urge to slip a finger between her thighs.

All day long she kept the cell phone on her hip but it never rang. Amaya was tempted to call Wesley herself but she didn’t know if it was allowed. She was too afraid of jinxing the game to try.

Amaya hated how badly she wanted him to call. She knew that it was her fault. Most of her friends had gone to State but her scholarship was from here. Amaya had entered this college without friends and despite what popular television would have you believe, making friends in college was not easy. Most students assumed she was a foreign exchange student and treated her more like a curiosity than a person.

She had lunch at McDonald’s just because she could afford it. French fries never tasted so good. As a child, Amaya had horrified her mother with her preference for chicken nuggets. Now with a purse full of money that she had earned, Amaya ordered a twenty pack just so she would have more than she could possibly eat.

When her classes were over, Amaya headed back to her dorm. She had high hopes for what might be in her mailbox. It could be another package. It could be a mailed request to start her on another game. Amaya checked her mailbox and sighed when she didn’t see anything from Wesley.

It was halfway up the stairs that she realized that there wasn’t a financial aid check either.

Helen was folding clothes in their room when Amaya arrived. They didn’t say anything to each other. Helen was a blonde that was half Amaya’s weight. They had tried talking the first week of college but it was doomed to failure. Helen was an ex-cheerleader with a hobby of underage drinking while Amaya was still a book-reader who abstained from alcohol. Those differences were enough to keep them strangers. Helen also had arrived at college with a steady check from her parents while Amaya scrapped by. Helen never offered to lend Amaya money and Amaya suspected that Helen felt guilty about it. Not guilty enough to actually offer anything, but guilty enough to avoid Amaya in case the Asian ever made an issue of it.

Amaya ignored Helen and tried to read a book she borrowed from the library. Helen looked at her reading and rolled her eyes before returning to her clothes. Amaya smirked. She wanted to tell Helen about the adventure she had yesterday just to show the arrogant blonde that Amaya lived an interesting life. Amaya was tempted to show Helen her new underwear, just to dispel Helen’s preconceptions and see the look in her face.

In the end Amaya didn’t do anything but read.

The phone rang and Amaya groaned when she realized it was the dorm phone, not her cell phone. She didn’t bother to answer it. It was for Helen, it always was.

Helen talked with one of her girlfriends long enough to arrange another gathering. It was only Tuesday but there was already a party for the night. Amaya wasn’t sure if she felt scorn or jealousy. There really was a hedonistic college lifestyle but Amaya hadn’t made up her mind on whether she wanted to be a part of it. It seemed so pointless and yet ten times better than sitting in this room all night again. What Amaya really wanted was the chance to choose.

The next best thing to going somewhere happened when Helen left for her party. At least now the quiet hostility was gone. Amaya, still flush with her sudden wealth, debated ordering a pizza.

The phone rang.

Not the dorm phone, her phone.

She couldn’t speak at first but Wesley could.

“Hello Amaya, enjoying the evening?”

“Yes,” Amaya answered. She wanted to say that she was now, but she couldn’t be that forward.

“Where are you now?” Wesley asked.

“In my room,” Amaya said. “My roommate just left for the night.”

Amaya blushed. Why had she added that? She reminded herself that she didn’t know this guy and her hands clenched as she promised to behave.

“I’m glad she did,” Wesley said. “Yesterday was a game of fitness but today I will be more intellectual. I’m going to ask you some questions. If you can’t answer them, then the game is over. Answer all of them and you’ll get your three hundred dollars.”

“Questions? Like a trivia quiz?” Amaya said. She got very nervous. What if she just wasn’t smart enough? Being out of shape was embarrassing but she hated to think she could lose the money just from not being smart enough.

Wesley laughed. “Yes, it is a quiz of sorts, but not trivia. You know the answer to every question I’ll ask. You also have the option of passing on a question, but there will be a penalty. Refuse the penalty and the game is over. Understand?”

“I think so.”

“Good, then the first question is this, what is your favorite color?”

Amaya relaxed. She could do this. “Purple,” she said. She stopped herself in time from answering “like the bra I’m wearing now.”

“What was the best thing you ate last night?”

“The sesame chicken,” Amaya said. “God, I ate too much of that.”

“I’m sure you needed it,” Wesley said. “Next question, how do you like your roommate?”

It was Amaya’s turn to laugh. “I don’t. All she does is drink and hang out with her friends. She is like one of those bimbos that you see on TV but don’t actually believe exists. Well, she does.”

“There are a lot of them here,” Wesley said. “Next question, who was your first sexual partner?”

Amaya swallowed hard. That was unexpected and out of the blue. She didn’t know what to say at first.

“Are you declining to answer?” Wesley asked.

“I think so,” Amaya said. She knew she was being foolish. Who cares if Wesley knows it was John? Amaya was just too shocked to be open right now. Plus, she was a little curious to see what the penalty might be.

“Then I’m going to have to ask you to go to your window. Do you have the shade pulled?”

“No, it’s open,” Amaya said. She looked out the window, curious if Wesley was watching. The dorm was shaped like an ‘H’ and Amaya’s window faced another section of the building. There were several guys sitting in their rooms, but none of them were on phones or looking at her.

“Good, just stand at your window then for now. Next question, what kind of music do you listen to?”

“Don’t tell any one, but I have the biggest crush on Sheryl Crow,” Amaya said. “My mom keeps pestering me to try out her classical favorites but I just love anything Sheryl does.”

“A woman needs her own favorites,” Wesley agreed. “Does your mother have a lot of opinions on what you like?”

“She used to,” Amaya said. “It’s weird. Once I graduated High School, she sort of lost interest. She didn’t even help me pack for college. I think she considers me a grown-up now.”

“Do you miss her?” Wesley asked.

“Yeah,” Amaya said. Now his earlier question about sexual partners didn’t seem so bad compared to now. Mercifully, Wesley changed the subject.

“What is your shoe size?”

Amaya told him. She also told him her dress size, her bra size and her favorite nail polish color (peach) without hesitation. It was far better than talking about her mom.

“Have you ever performed oral sex on a man?” Wesley asked.

The bluntness of the question surprised her but she recovered. “Yes,” she said.

“Swallow or spit?”

Amaya blushed. “Spit at first, but I hated seeing the look on his face. He always got so disappointed. I tried swallowing, and it wasn’t too bad.”

“I bet he appreciated that,” Wesley said.

Amaya blushed deeper. “He would have married me that night if he could.”

Wesley chuckled. “Are you seeing anyone now?”

“No,” Amaya said. Her heart was racing. “I guess technically I’m still seeing my boyfriend, John, but he is in Georgia and I haven’t heard from him.”

“Hard to be a couple with that kind of distance,” Wesley said. “If he called tonight, would you forgive him?”

Amaya felt a lump in her throat. She would. She knew she would but she didn’t want to admit it, not to Wesley or herself. Amaya said nothing.

“I am assuming that you are declining, right?”

“I rather not say,” Amaya said. She didn’t want to lie. For some reason, that was very important.

“Then I will have to ask you to take off your shirt,” Wesley ordered.

“In front of the window?” Amaya said.

“Of course,” Wesley said. “You are wearing a bra, right?”

“Yes, but,” Amaya said before stopping. It was his game and his rules. She didn’t want it to end so soon. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her shirt over her head. The shirt snagged on her glasses and she felt foolish for forgetting to them off first. By the time she tossed her shirt to her bed, she was blushing from her mistake before she realized her she was in her purple bra standing at her window where any one can see.

“I did it,” Amaya said.

“Very good,” Wesley said. “Next question, what is your favorite movie?”

“Pride and Prejudice,” Amaya said. “The A&E mini-series.”

“Who is your favorite living author?”

“Kim Newman,” Amaya said. “Oh shit!”

“What’s the matter?” Wesley said. There was concern in his voice and Amaya smiled briefly before explaining.

“There’s a room across from me with two guys and they are staring right at me! Oh god, I am so embarrassed!”

“Don’t be,” Wesley said. “You are a lovely lady and they are getting a visual treat.”

“What if they report me?” Amaya asked.

Wesley laughed. “You don’t know boys very well. Trust me, getting you in any sort of trouble that stops your behavior is the last thing they would do. What are they doing?”

“Just staring. Wait, one of them waved.”

“Don’t wave back,” Wesley said. “Just keep talking on the phone like you haven’t seen them. If you wave, then you start an exchange. Are you nervous?”

“Is that a question?” she joked. “Yeah, I am.”

“Is it turning you on?”

Amaya almost didn’t answer but she realized what his next requirement would be. “Yes,” she confessed.

“How many boyfriends have you had?”

“Just one,” Amaya said.

“That’s unbelievable,” Wesley said. “You are very attractive and intelligent. Are you holding off on dating for some reason?”

“Not by choice,” Amaya said. The two guys were still staring at her. She crossed her arm over her bra but she couldn’t hide her massive breasts without looking like she was covering herself. Amaya just couldn’t believe they were staring at her. She wasn’t thin like Helen or posing. She was just shirtless but yet they seem to be fascinated by her.

“Do you do any kind of art or writing?” Wesley asked.

“I draw,” Amaya said. “I haven’t painted since coming here though. I don’t have the supplies right now and I doubt Helen could let me draw without saying something.”

“Have you ever drawn nudes?” Wesley asked.

Amaya blushed. “Yes.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“My boyfriend, John,” she said. “I asked him to pose for me once. He couldn’t sit still.”

“Was he erect when you drew him?”

Amaya blushed deeper. “Yes. Very.”

“Did you enjoy playing yesterday?” Wesley asked.

“Yes, I really need that money,” Amaya said.

Wesley laughed. “I knew that. I was asking if you enjoyed the game. Running from place to place, stripping part way through, and knowing how exposed you were, did you enjoy that?”

“I’m not sure,” Amaya said. She looked across and saw that there were three guys now in the same room. Did they go get a buddy?

“Why aren’t you sure?” Wesley asked.

“It was humiliating to run braless like that but . . .”

“But you liked having guys look at you, right?”

Amaya knew better than to deny it. “Yes. It was flattering.”

“Did it turn you on?”

“Yes,” Amaya confessed.

“Did you masturbate last night?” Wesley said.

Amaya forgot about the staring boys and closed her eyes. She had masturbated. Several times and each time had been bliss. All she had to do was say it but she couldn’t bring herself to admit how much yesterday had aroused her.

“Pass,” Amaya said, not caring about the consequences.

“Then I must ask you to take off your bra,” Wesley said.

“I know,” Amaya said.

She summoned the courage. The boys were looking at her and Amaya knew this would drive them wild. Her heart beat faster and her thighs were tingling. Amaya knew deep down that she wanted to do this and that humiliated her even more. Without thinking about it any more, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She dropped it on the desk beside her and lowered her eyes so she shouldn’t have to see the boys.

Amaya couldn’t ignore how hard and dark her nipples were.

“Have you ever had anal sex?” Wesley asked.

“No, but John wanted to,” Amaya said. It was funny how she had no problem telling him these things now. “He said it would be a better form of birth control. I told him to find someone else’s ass to fuck.”

Wesley laughed. “Anal can be humiliating if not done right. Tell me, what are the boys doing now?”

Amaya peeked. “Oh God, there’s at least six of them now! I’m going to have the whole floor staring at me!”

“Is the three hundred worth it to you?” Wesley asked.

“No, yes, I’m not sure,” Amaya said. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to explain. Amaya didn’t know if she could.

He didn’t.

“Do you want to cover up?”

“Yes!” Amaya said.

“Do you want to quit the game now?” Wesley said.

“No!” she said with just as much conviction.

“Very good,” Wesley said. “Have you gone grocery shopping yet?”

“No. Helen has a very small fridge that she also fills most of it with beer. I was thinking about renting a fridge like hers before buying any groceries.”

“Good plan,” Wesley said. “Doing anything tonight?”

Amaya gulped. “I’ve got nothing planned,” she said. Amaya hoped Wesley couldn’t tell how much of a bait that was. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he did offer something.

“Are you wet right now?” Wesley asked.

She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

“Are you going to masturbate tonight?”

“Yes,” Amaya said. There was no doubt of that; no need to lie or deny it.

“Would you masturbate right now if I asked you to?” Wesley asked.

“Would I have to to stay in the game?” Amaya asked.

“No, I’m just asking if you would.”

Amaya stalled. “I rather not,” she said. She frowned and stomped her foot. Her breasts jiggled from her stomp and she was sure the boys across the way got an eyeful but she didn’t care. Amaya was mad at herself for turning Wesley down before he had really officially asked.

Wesley chuckled. “That’s okay. In fact, that was the last of my questions. You can pull your shade down now.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Amaya quickly pulled down the shade. She noticed however, that the boys across from her had swollen to about a dozen.

“Congratulations, Amaya,” Wesley said. “You performed quite well. I am very pleased with how open and fair you were. You have played the game with flair.”

“Thank you,” Amaya said. She almost tried to engage him in more conversation. She wasn’t quite ready for him to go just yet.

“If you will look outside your door, you’ll find your reward. Until next time, good-bye.”

He hung up. Amaya bit her lip and sighed. That didn’t quite go the way she wanted. She had hoped for some clue as to what he wanted out of her but instead, he had just tested her again. Amaya’s thighs ached with another need that she wasn’t willing to put into words.

She remembered what he said about her reward and was halfway to the door before she realized she was still topless. Amaya put her shirt back on and groaned as the thick cloth rubbed her hard nipples. Frustrated and excited, she cautiously opened her door.

Sitting in front of her door was another package. This one was bigger than the one that held her cell phone. Written in a flowing scrip was her name.

Amaya looked both ways down the hall but she saw no one. Could Wesley have left it himself? She discounted the idea. The floors that the women lived on were forbidden to men. It was possible for him to get here, but not likely.

She sat the package on her bed and opened it. A red envelope was inside and Amaya quickly opened it. There was no note, but there was three hundred dollars in twenties. Amaya’s fingers shook as she counted them. She wouldn’t need a fridge now, she could just eat out every night!

Amaya saw a white box inside the package and pulled it out. She blushed as she opened the box. Sitting in a sealed plastic bag was a pretty six-inch purple vibrator. It looked just big enough to be comfortable. Amaya tore it out of the plastic wrapping and touched it. It was made of a gel-like substance and was very flexible. The rest of the box was six sets of batteries and a simple note. The note read “Keep the vibrator with you always. Also, be outside the student theater at noon tomorrow.”

“That answers one question,” Amaya said. A vibrator was a very clear statement of intent. Amaya was relieved because it meant Wesley had sexual designs on her that went past just exhibitionism. Amaya was also nervous because she still didn’t know a thing about him. She was excited and anxious to the point that she didn’t care what happened next as long as something did.

Amaya slipped two batteries into the vibrator and turned it on. It had an adjustable dial that ranged from slight tingle to numbing. She ran it along her thigh and moaned as the sensation swept through her.

She wanted to use it. She wanted it inside her right now. She had never touched a vibrator before much less owned one and Amaya was dying to use it.

She didn’t. It was tempting but she couldn’t bring herself to. It was from Wesley and it was one thing to take his money and to wear his clothes but it was another to use his sex toys. Some last bit of resistance was inside her and it brought tears to the lonely girl’s eyes. She knew if she used his toy, then she was committing herself to him. It wasn’t something she just couldn’t do yet.

The note bothered her too. The student theater was near by but the fact that he told her what time to be there nagged at her. He obviously wanted as much of her hour as possible. Considering how much of his games had centered on exposing herself, the idea of a theater terrified her. Amaya realized she might be reaching the end of her limits and that saddened her. As much as Wesley intimidated her, she didn’t want to stop so soon.

Amaya read her book and did her homework with a dedication that came from frustration. She went down stairs to the cafeteria that was located in the basement of her dorm and had a little of everything. When she was done, she went back to her room and did some extra homework before she went to bed.

In the middle of the night, she awoke to the ringing of the phone. Amaya’s first thought was that she hoped it was Wesley. She was disappointed when she realized it was not the cell phone but the room phone. It kept ringing and Amaya got up to answer it. She was surprised to hear Helen’s voice.

“Amaya, I’m sorry to wake you,” Helen said.

Amaya became worried. Helen was never sorry for anything.

“Where are you?” Amaya asked.

“I forgot my keys and I’m in the lobby,” Helen said. “Can you come down and let me in?”

Amaya closed her eyes and let out a breath. Helen was slurring every word. It was more likely that Helen had her keys but was too drunk to find them.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down,” Amaya said.

She threw on some clothes and headed down the stairs. The dorm was eerie and quiet at three in the morning. Amaya found it hard to believe there were actually people sleeping in their rooms. The place seemed deserted and abandoned.

Amaya walked into the lobby and saw Helen standing at the door with some blonde guy. The guy looked more wasted than Helen. When she opened the locked door, she was alarmed to see the guy follow in behind Helen.

“Where is he going?” Amaya asked.

“To our room,” Helen said. “Look at him. He lives in Verner, there’s no way he’ll be able to make that walk in his condition.”

“No,” Amaya said. “We can’t let him in our room. It’s against the rules!”

The blonde guy snorted with laughter. Helen punched him.

“Look, Amaya,” Helen said slowly. “This is my boyfriend, Rick. He won’t come anywhere near you. If we get caught, I’ll say I snuck him in and you didn’t know about him. God, don’t be such a prude.”

Amaya flinched at being called a prude. She wanted to tell Helen about her striptease earlier just to see the look on her face. Amaya looked at Rick and saw that he was pretty harmless. She doubted he could walk up the stairs by himself. As much as Amaya knew she shouldn’t agree, part of her wanted to prove to Helen that she wasn’t the prude that Helen thought she was.

“Fine,” Amaya said.

It Helen ten minutes to get Rick up the stairs. Amaya went ahead and unlocked their dorm room. She didn’t want to be seen with the couple. Helen pushed Rick onto her bed and crawled in with him. Neither of them took of their shoes.

“Thanks,” Helen said.

Amaya turned out the light and went back to bed. Her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. She was upset with herself for letting Helen bring her boyfriend up here but she didn’t feel like she was without guilt herself. How could she criticize Helen when just a few hours ago she had stripped and stood at the window at the request of a stranger? Amaya felt like a hypocrite but at the same time, she knew that what she did was different. Helen was a drunk making bad choices. Amaya made her choices of her own free will. She didn’t know which was worse.

Across the small room, Helen and Rick started to fuck. Amaya didn’t see or hear them start but she could see them going at it now. The dorm was equipped with huge lights that kept the outside very well lit. This was nice and safe but the rooms inside were equipped with thin shades that did nothing to keep out the lights. At night, the room was bathed in a dim orange that resembled a night-light. Even without her glasses Amaya could clearly see that Rick was on top and that the sheets were slipping down his back. She watched with fascination as Rick thrust into Helen with a mechanical rhythm that was hypnotic. The sheets were still covering where they joined but the sheets couldn’t cover the noise. The wet sound of sex filled the room.

Amaya moaned. At first she was pissed that they were having sex with her in the room but now it she was just jealous. God, she missed John. No, she missed fucking John. Amaya felt lonely, aroused and outraged at the same time.

She watched for a few more minutes before making up her mind. Silently, Amaya reached for her backpack that she had set by her bed. She worried that they might hear the zipper but they were making too much noise. Rick was grunting now and Helen was making small whimpers. Amaya pulled out the vibrator and quickly pulled it under her sheets.

It was tricky to pull down her thong without making the bed creak but she did it. Amaya paused when she heard the two whisper. They had stopped fucking and from what Amaya could hear, they were debating on whether they should continue. She wanted to scream at them to continue but instead she kept quiet.

Rick and Helen started to fuck again. Amaya smiled and pushed the vibrator down between her legs. She didn’t have the courage to turn it on; she just wanted that girth inside her. Amaya knew she was wet but she was amazed by how easily the vibrator slid inside her. She pushed the vibrator in completely and shuddered as it filled her. Laying almost perfectly still, Amaya began to fuck herself.

Amaya watched as Helen rolled on top of Rick. The blonde was topless now and the orange light illuminated Rick’s hands on her small breasts. Amaya reached for her own breasts, mauling her nipples like John used to. She continued to pump her pussy with the vibrator as she watched Helen ride her boyfriend. Amaya imagined herself riding Rick and sometimes John.

She bit down hard on her lip as her first climax hit her. Amaya wanted to moan and scream but she kept quiet. She didn’t want Helen and Rick to stop. They were getting louder as they approached their own orgasm and Amaya felt like she was in an orgy with them. Amaya wanted them to climax, fuck and climax again so she could ride their sounds.

Amaya thought of Wesley and this time she did moan. What would he think about her right now? Would he like to hear Rick and Helen or would he want to hear her? If he called right now, Amaya knew she would let him hear her masturbate. She would give him a narration if he wanted it. Amaya was so aroused; her earlier inhibitions just seemed silly. She wanted Wesley right now and not just on the phone. He needed to be inside her, fucking and riding her as they watched the other couple.

She had another climax just thinking about it. Amaya gasped and choked back a whimper just in time. Rick and Helen had paused to roll back over again. Amaya laid still as they looked over at her, but her pussy clenched her vibrator in spasms.

Rick humped Helen again and now the sheets were down to their knees. Amaya couldn’t see his cock but she did see Helen’s legs wrapped around his buttocks, pulling Rick deeper in. Rick was about to come and Amaya smiled as his groan filled the room.

They stopped fucking when Rick came. Amaya was terribly disappointed. She kept masturbating as Helen and Rick quietly cleaned themselves up. Somehow, Amaya knew that sex with Wesley wouldn’t be over so quick. She came twice more before finally putting the vibrator back in her backpack. The couple was already beginning to snore.

Amaya rolled over with a big smile on her face. Tomorrow might bring the last game with Wesley but for now, she was fucked and satisfied. The thought that she might have had better sex than Helen delighted her until she fell asleep.

To be continued,

  8 Responses to “Fiction -Cell Phone Slave Part 2”

  1. Is there anyway, I can get an advanced copy of the whole story? I have a long weekend, and lots of homework to do, I need some sort of reward!


    I love it so far, keep up the great work!

  2. Melissa- Sorry, much like Wesley, I derive enjoyment out of making people wait. In the past I have posted long stories in one post and my reader responses are always far less than what I get out of posting like a serial. As for your long weekend, how about I post an older short story of mine about a bdsm bookclub? Anyone interested in that?

  3. I am totally hooked on this series you’ve got going. These are great and I can’t wait for the next chapters. I just keep hoping she’s not going to end the game any time soon!

    Keep up the great work.

  4. Mick- Glad you’re enjoying it. That is half the fun isn’t it? How long will Amaya stay in the game? Thanks for taking the time to comment.

  5. very interesting story, might have to sacrifice a kitten or two before it’s over, have a good one

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  7. I am really enjoying this story. Your words are expertly composed well with a skilled pacing sense. I really get a feeling for the characters as people. I am most interested in reading more of your stories. This is such a nice pleasure. Thank you.
    Today is a sunday morning. I am alone and naked in my bed. I woke up too early today. I’ve recently finished reading a novel that I loved. It was a few days ago and I am not prepared to release the characters from my world. Glad for this series. It is arousing but in a quiet luxurious way. Incidently the book I just read is called Lullabyes for Little Criminals by Heather ONeill. I am not certain of her name. Most unusual writing style. Lovely considering the heartbreaking writing style. Sorry I go on. I guess this is a measure of the mood you’ve put me into.

  8. just wondering, isn’t she only supposed to get 200 dollars? it was irritating me. but other than that, great story, i’ve already read it once.

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