How Nick became Nicki A sissy story
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SusanChapter 11 free porn video
When Barbara Anthony heard about the invitation to dine with Jeffrey Collins at his penthouse, a chill ran down her spine, although for the life of her she couldn't figure out why she reacted as she did. Normally, she would have been instructed to go to the store and buy a new dress, but these were not normal times. Simon was broke and she knew it. For some reason it didn't bother her. For that matter nothing did anymore. Wryly, she realized that for several years now, she'd been existing ... or, perhaps, she'd ceased to exist. All she did was whatever Simon told her to do: she was numb. She found being numb was so much easier than thinking for herself, let alone fighting him.
Barbara was thirty-two years old and had been married to Simon for eight years. Although she was five feet eight inches tall, she appeared to be much shorter. In part it was her terrible posture — she was chronically hunched over — and in part it was her desire to minimize her apparent height. Simon Anthony was only five feet six. Graduating from Indiana University as a history major, she'd come to New York City to work. Somehow, she was referred by an employment agency to Simon Anthony and he had hired her. Because she was very fat — she weighed 185 pounds — and very shy, she'd had no social life. So when Simon started to take her out, it was the path of least resistance.
After they married, he totally dominated her and everything about her. She wore what he told her to wear, even though his taste in clothing was awful and his taste in women's wear was even worse. Periodically, he would give her a clipping he had torn out of some publication showing a different hairdo, and she made her hair over to match. On average, she guessed, she changed her hair coloring at least twice a year.
And yet she realized that the single word that could best characterize her existence was "numb." She was just numb and unfeeling. Her last warm human contact disappeared when Susan went away. Idly, she wondered what had happened to the poor girl. Maybe she'll be cooking and serving tonight, Barbara thought.
Now she and Simon were in a private elevator car being swept silently up to the Collins penthouse atop this giant New York skyscraper. The elevator car itself was remarkable, she thought. It was so quiet and elegant in operation. It was completely paneled in furniture-grade cherry. There was a very comfortable-looking upholstered bench against the elevator's back wall with a mirror behind it and in the corner of the car there was a small vase with some fresh-cut holly. When the car smoothly came to a stop, the doors opened silently and the two stepped out into a hallway that was really more like a continuation of the elevator car. Again there was fresh holly reflecting the Christmas motif. It was early December, after all. For some reason she was fearful as Simon rang the door bell.
The door was opened wide and Barbara almost fainted. She found herself looking at the most beautiful black girl she'd ever seen. She had dark wavy hair, the warmest, friendliest brown eyes Barbara had ever seen, with an utterly exquisite face and features. The woman just reeked of refinement.
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Anthony!" she greeted them warmly. "Won't you please come in? The master and mistress are waiting to greet you in the living room, if you'll come with me." Turning to a black giant beside her she said softly, "Sam, would you please take the Anthonys' coats?" The giant helped her off with her coat and then held it while he took Simon's.
The costume the maid was wearing was utterly unbelievable. While the butler was in perfect white tie and tails, the maid was wearing the tiniest white costume imaginable. It had a white ballerina skirt that reached only a few inches below her crotch. When she turned, it spun out straight revealing the tiniest white lace bikini and the most perfectly sized and shaped legs Barbara had ever seen on a woman. Now as she led the way, she realized that the uniform had no back. While it swept up in front in two bands just wide enough to cover her nipples while fully revealing the perfect shape of her tits, it came up to a wing collar with which she was wearing a perfectly-tied black bow tie. In the back, though, it dropped down to reveal the top two inches of the crease between her perfect little buns.
Walking through the apartment, Barbara was overwhelmed. It was the most luxurious, and at the same time, the most comfortable home she could imagine. It just exuded sheer warmth and ... and ... love! My God! That's it, she realized. This apartment just reeks of the purest love. But how can that possibly be?
Entering the living room, the maid stood aside and said softly, "Master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Anthony."
Barbara's attention was immediately drawn to Jeffrey Collins. He's so incredibly handsome, Barbara thought. But he looks so different, somehow. What is it, I wonder? Looking at him she was puzzled. He was wearing a black dinner jacket and was in unrelieved black and white. He had first attracted her attention because he had stepped forward to shake hands politely with Simon.
When he stepped back and his companion was revealed, things became so much clearer. The woman beside him was the most beautiful person alive. She was very tall and slender with the most magnificent golden hair, brilliant blue eyes, and utterly perfect figure imaginable. She was wearing a white cocktail dress along with diamonds at her neck, ears and wrist. No wonder he's so happy, she thought. But that's it! That's what's so different now. Jeff Collins is so happy he could just float away. But sharing his bed with the beauty beside him would make anyone happy. Then she looked hard and blurted, "Susan? Susan Andrews? Is it you?"
"Yes, it is, Mrs. Anthony," the girl responded in the incredibly warm voice that Barbara immediately remembered. "And I'm still Jeffrey's body slave, the rôle you sold me into earlier this year. Do you remember?"
"My darling," Jeff interjected, "you're also my wife."
"That doesn't count, Jeffrey. That was only so you could have access to my cunt. You wouldn't fuck me until we were married, so I went through with the ceremony just so you'd finally do me. And, Jeffrey Collins, now that you've taken me in every possible opening, am I not a really great piece of ass? Don't I have a really hot cunt? Am I not a really great fuck?"
Taking her into his arms he melted his lips to hers and then murmured, "Yes, yes, and yes. And I love my adorable slave."
As soon as they took seats — the Anthonys sat on the sofa while the Collins seated themselves in the flanking side chairs — the enormous black butler reappeared to take drink orders. Simon and Jeff asked for martinis, while Susan ordered a glass of white wine for Barbara and club soda with a lime for herself.
"Why only that?" Barbara asked.
"Two reasons," Susan replied with a warm smile. "First, since I'm not yet nineteen, I'm still over two years away from a legal drink. Second, Jeff doesn't need to ply me with alcohol to get me into his bed ... and without it, I feel everything he does to me so much more. I don't need or want any of my senses to be anaesthetized."
When the drinks had been served, the maid reappeared passing trays of hors d'oeuvres. Looking at them, Barbara realized they were the most perfect things in both appearance and taste she'd ever encountered. "Where did these come from?" she asked, thinking that they must have come from some gourmet catering organization.
"The kitchen," the maid replied with a smile. "Mrs. Collins made them this afternoon. They're truly scrumptious, aren't they?" Then lowering her voice so that only Barbara could hear her she added, "As usual, she prepared the entire dinner, as well. All I do is serve it."
Looking at Susan who was sitting close beside her Barbara just shook her head slowly and said, "Susan Collins, you're utterly incredible! You're the most beautiful young woman in the whole world. I can't tell you how happy I am for you." She grinned warmly and added, "You may be Jeff's slave, but if so, slavery truly becomes you."
Susan had been looking at Barbara Anthony and getting more and more disgusted. In fact, she was about to scrap the plan she and Jeff had previously developed. But then the woman grinned. Suddenly there was life and warmth in her face that Susan had never seen before. To be sure, she was certainly a fat slob — there was no other word for it — but maybe, just maybe, their plan could work. Mentally, Sue crossed her fingers. It was Steve Sloan's night off so the arrangements she'd earlier made with him couldn't easily be changed.
Looking around, Barbara saw a Christmas tree in the next room and commented on the beautifully wrapped gifts that were under it.
Hearing her comment, Jeffrey interrupted his conversation with Simon and said, "Susan is having a little party next week for eight small children, ranging in age from five to nine years old. You see, she saved their lives a few months ago, although almost at the cost of her own. She's having them all over here for a little Christmas party" Jeff smiled warmly and added, "Colette will be back from her honeymoon then, too, and will also be coming. She's absolutely great with young children!"
Looking at Susan with her eyes wide, she asked softly, "Mrs. Collins, what did you do? How did you save their lives?"
"It happened before I became Mrs. Collins," Susan replied. "I visited the Children's Hospital with Jeff. While there I met some young children, all of whom were dying. Moreover, they were all suffering great pain. All I did was to ask God to let me take their pain into my own body, and he allowed me do it. Later my life was saved by my best friend who's now my sister."
The smile on Susan's face was the warmest, most loving smile Barbara had ever seen as she continued, "That's Colette who Jeff mentioned a moment ago. She called yesterday from Paris where she and Jim Fletcher are honeymooning and we talked for a long time. Now she's so exquisitely happy! It couldn't possibly happen to a nicer girl."
"Your sister?" Barbara asked. "How can that be? You're an only child, if I remember correctly."
"Your memory is accurate," Sue responded. "But Colette and I were both adopted by Andy Taylor." Then she looked at Barbara, took her hand and said softly, "You may have saved my life. I just remembered that Colette called you and you told her how to reach me. Had she not, I would have died. So I guess I owe you my life, Mrs. Anthony."
Barbara just shook her head in wonder. "Colette? Do you mean that poor girl who was tortured at your school?" When Susan just nodded she continued, "I'm sorry. I guess I didn't make the connection before." Then she asked, "Did I hear you mention that you were adopted by Andy Taylor..." Her eyes widened and she murmured, "Do you mean ... Andrea Pierce Taylor?"
With a big grin Susan said, "She'll kill you dead if you ever call her Andrea — or 'Drea, for that matter — but yes, that's her."
"But Susan, she's the wealthiest woman in the world!"
"And the warmest, the funniest, the most loving, the kindest ... Mrs. Anthony, she is feminine perfection. That's all. Just perfection."
Barbara had noticed that the butler kept refreshing Simon's drink. He was now on at least his third martini, and they were large and very strong. Jeff Collins had taken no more than a few sips from his, while Susan seemed actually to savor her plain club soda. Suddenly Barbara realized something about Susan: She savored everything. She savors life, the woman thought, and she certainly deserves it. Then Barbara realized that the white wine she was drinking was like nothing she'd ever tasted. When she asked, Susan quietly told her it was a grand cru Chablis. She was still ruminating when dinner was announced.
Entering the dining room was like stepping into the setting of a formal dinner photographed for a bridal magazine. Everything was utterly perfect. Moreover, Susan presided over the meal like a queen. This girl is a modern Cinderella, Barbara thought. Simon tried to keep her as a scullery maid, but the handsome prince found her and rescued her ... My God! she thought. It's true!
After what was undoubtedly the finest meal she'd ever eaten in her life, coffee and cognac were served and the table was cleared. At that point Jeff moved his chair slightly so he could focus directly on Simon Anthony. "Simon," he said, "today is December 4th. On October 15th, you were supposed to make an interest payment to me of $30,000. It was not made. So tonight I want $530,000.
"You want... what?" he exclaimed. Anthony did, in fact, have a check in his pocket for the $30,000 interest payment, but he'd had to scrape to come up with that.
"I want $530,000," Jeff replied simply. "Perhaps you haven't read the accelerator clause recently. It provides that if interest isn't paid on time, the creditor — me — can demand payment of the entire note. I'm demanding." Then he looked a little apologetic and said, "Technically, I'm not. Susan is. You see, when we were married, to try to make up to her for the tortures and torments of her slavery, I signed over all of my assets to her."
At that point Jeff looked up at the ceiling and seemed to ponder something. Then with a grin he looked down the table at Susan and said, "My darling slave, guess what?"
"What, beloved master?"
"You own ... yourself! Isn't that neat? My darling, you own all of my assets. And my most valuable asset of all is you. So, my darling scrumptious slave girl, you own yourself."
Susan seemed to think about it for a moment but then said, "Master, can we keep it quiet, please? After all, I was just reinstated into the body-slaves union — and I was even elected the first vice president. I would hate to lose it all on some dumb technicality." Then she smiled warmly and added, "And thank you so much, beloved master, for your lovely testimonial letter. It was your letter that got me reinstated. Thank you, beloved sir, for certifying me to the union as a truly hot cunt and a great piece of ass. You can't believe how wonderful it made me feel."
While Jeff turned his attention back to Simon, Barbara whispered to Susan, "You're teasing, aren't you? I mean ... all this business about a body-slaves union... ?"
"Teasing?" Susan whispered back. "Of course not! And now, as first vice-president, I'm in line to become president, someday, too!" Then she winked at Barbara and grinned. Suddenly, Barbara just felt warm and wonderful. Then she heard the conversation across the table and almost became ill.
"I assume you don't have $530,000," Jeff said quietly. When Simon just shook his head, Jeff continued, "My wife is prepared to make you an offer. She'll forgive the October 15 interest payment, and the payment due on April 15, next year. Now isn't that great?"
"What do I have to do to make it happen?" Simon asked suspiciously.
"Not much," Jeff replied. "Just sell your wife into slavery. You see, in spite of all we said earlier, Sue insists she's still my slave. But anyway, this place is really very big — the Duncans — Ellen and Sam who are serving tonight — are friends. They don't work for us. They just came over to help out."
Then Jeff called to the Duncans and asked them to come into the dining room. Turning to Barbara he asked, "Mrs. Anthony, please look at Ellen Duncan carefully." Turning to Ellie he asked, "Ellie, would you mind standing beside her chair? I want her to be able to touch you all over." Then to Barbara he said, "Mrs. Anthony, now you have your freedom on the line. If you can answer one question correctly, you're free to go. Otherwise, you become Susan's slave. Do you want to play?"
Turning to her husband, Barbara said, "I have no choice, do I? If I don't play, I become Susan's slave anyway, don't I?" Simon just nodded.
Surprising herself, Barbara sat up straight in the chair and threw her shoulders back. "I'm ready to play, Mr. Collins. What's the question?" Sitting up straight for the first time Susan was able to see that Barbara apparently had beautifully-shaped breasts.
"The question, Mrs. Anthony, is how old is Ellen Duncan? An answer within five years will be considered accurate. The determination will be by her driver's license. Is that acceptable?" When Barbara nodded, he added, "You may do anything to Ellie you wish. And she's a truly luscious female."
Swallowing hard, Barbara looked at the woman. Then she reached out and slid her hand under the front of the costume and placed it on her left tit. She caressed it and then squeezed it gently. It was utterly perfect: round and very firm with its nipple fully engorged. She repeated it with her ass cheeks and then slid her finger up her slit. Initially she was surprised to find there was no pubic hair at all except for what felt like a dense, silky patch above her slit. The instant her finger touched the black woman's slit her love juices started to run.
Then, in spite of what was on the line, she roared with laughter when, without moving her body, Ellie looked over her shoulder at Susan and said, "Mrs. Collins, I am, too, toilet trained. But I can't help it if this woman causes my love juices to run down my legs. It's all her fault, ma'am, not mine!" Then looking down at Barbara she asked, "Are you having fun?"
Standing up, Barbara surprised herself by responding, "Yes. As a matter of fact, I'm having a lot of fun. Mrs. Duncan, you're one of God's most perfect pieces of work." Then she took the woman into her arms and kissed her. Initially there was no reaction. But just an instant later, there was the most wonderful flow of love and joy Barbara could imagine. When she released Ellie, Barbara was reeling. Ellie held her for a few moments while she regained her balance.
Sitting down again she looked at Jeff and said, "Ellen Duncan is twenty-three years old. Since I have a five-year spread, that covers me from eighteen to twenty-eight." Turning to Ellen she asked, "Mrs. Duncan, how old are you?"
Ellie just motioned to Sam who went into the kitchen to retrieve her purse. Giving it to her, she took out her driver's license and gave it to Barbara without comment. Then she pulled out a set of photographs and just waited.
Barbara looked at the license and saw Ellen's smiling face. A remarkably good picture, she thought. Then she looked at the date of birth, did a double take, and almost vomited as a wave of nausea swept over her. "My God! This is utterly impossible. This license says you're... fifty years old!"
"Shh! Not so damned loud," Ellie protested. "Do you have to advertise it to the whole world. Good grief!" Then she smiled warmly and said, "Would you like to see some pictures? Like all grandmothers I carry pictures of my grandchildren. Of course, Sam and I are sort of funny because we have grandchildren older than our children. Our youngest — Sam's and mine — is Karen. She's only four. Our oldest grandchild, David, junior, is twelve now. He's so big and strong! Just like his daddy." Looking at Barbara she asked, "Do you follow professional football at all?" When Barbara just shook her head, Ellie said, "Then I guess you've never heard of our son-in-law, David Wilson, have you?"
Although Barbara didn't pay any attention to professional football, David Wilson had become to football what Babe Ruth was to baseball: everybody knew of him — including Barbara. Then she asked, "Mrs. Duncan, how old is Mr. Duncan?"
"Oh, he's an old man," Ellie replied. "He's fifty-five, and retired from the Army. But he really is in fairly decent shape, don't you think? But, Mrs. Anthony, his cock is so huge! As long as we've been making love together, he still stretches my insides. It's so utterly great! And now? Now we have a bathtub the size of a small swimming pool. Sam takes me in the tub where we're both supported by the water. It's just so neat!"
Shaking her head, Barbara just said softly, "I give up. Mrs. Duncan, you and your husband have obviously found the fountain of youth." Turning to Susan she said, "Mrs. Collins, I am now your slave. What happens now?"
"Slave Barbara, we're planning on getting you an uncontested divorce from Simon next week. Is that satisfactory?"
"Of course, Mistress," she replied. "But what do I do now? I know nothing about being a slave."
"Ellen Duncan will get you started," Susan replied. Turning to her black friend she said, "Ellie, would you please take Barbara Anthony out to the kitchen and prepare her for her slavery. When she's ready, bring her back here, please."
Ellen Duncan looked down at Barbara and said softly, "Will you come with me, please?" Moving as if in a trance, she slid her chair back, rose to her feet and followed the woman out to the kitchen. There she found the black giant carefully putting away the silver. His wife said quietly but very firmly, "Now strip. Take off every garment you're wearing."
"But ... but ... but your husband..."
" ... has seen far more beautiful naked white women than you, lady, and he hasn't raped a single one. And looking at you, I really think he's far more likely to get sick than get amorous."
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