| Prologue: "NWMD!" identifies this as a part of the "Not With My Daughter!" series of adventures befalling Marnie, her friends and family. Each stand-alone part derives from the initial story where a man named Larcher under the threat of unleashing his son on Marnie's daughter, Brenda, blackmails and humiliates Marnie. This is a part that would pass the age submission guideline. If you want to read these in the order that I wrote them, feel free to contact me or visit my site. Others to follow. Please enjoy.
"Honey, I'm going to wait up for Brenda to get home. You go on to bed. Thank you. You were wonderful tonight." Marnie said, as she kissed her husband, Roger, passionately, good night.
"Not as wonderful as you, Snookums, you vixen. You have really become a sex dynamo lately. You're incredible. I love you. Don't stay up too long. Brenda can handle herself. I'm worried about you, though. I wouldn't want my sex kitten to burn herself out. Are you sure I can't talk you into coming to bed now?" Roger said, as he smooched with Marnie, trying to get her to change her mind about waiting up.
"No, I want to make sure she gets in okay." Marnie said, as she kissed the tip of his nose.
Marnie camped out on the living room couch. She tried reading, she tried TV, and she tried solitaire. Nothing was working. All of the excitement of the day had drained her energy, so she had nothing in reserve. "Maybe I should get up and make some coffee." She thought to herself, as she drifted off into dreamland.
When she woke up, it was morning. Roger was ready to go to work. "What time did Brenda get in last night?" He asked.
"I don't know. I feel asleep. She's in? You've seen her?" Marnie asked concerned.
"Of course. She's sound a sleep upstairs. No need to worry." He said reassuringly, "Gotta go. Big day. Important breakfast meeting. Love ya. (Kiss)"
Marnie went upstairs. She looked in at Brenda sleeping so angelically. She did not have the heart to wake her, but she did need to get to the bottom of all of this. So, she dressed in downtown clothes, left Brenda a note and took off in search of Larcher.
Coming up from parking into the lobby, she came upon a security guard, whom she had never seen before. She approached him, and he stood up with a big smile on his face saying, "Well hi there." Said as if he was really glad to see her.
Marnie grew uneasy with him, thinking it odd he was acting so familiar with her, when they had not even met. "Can you tell me where Larcher is right now? I really need to see him." Marnie asked, and looked around at a passerby, who smiled at her knowingly.
"I think he is checking or fixing a lock on the fifth floor. Try number 5230 first. If you don't connect with him there, you can always come back here to me." He said in an immature flirtatious manner.
Marnie was beginning to feel that she was having a "Twilight Zone" experience. She was about to get in the elevator, but it was pretty full, so she said that she would ride the next one up. Everybody fussed and insisted that she use the current one. When she got in, all eyes were upon her, looking her up and down. They did not even bother to look away, when she looked them in the eye. No one seemed to be getting off on any floor before hers. When they got to the fifth floor, she got out and looked back as she walked, to see that the door was being held open, and everyone was watching her walk away down the hall. When she was out of eyeshot, she searched for the restroom to check how she looked, and to see if her slip was showing, or something.
She did not find anything out of the ordinary. She was not even wearing a slip. She did look pretty hot in her white blouse, that hinted at the lacy bra underneath, the form fitting, above the knee skirt, slit up the left side and heels. It was an okay hair day. Maybe she just had not been giving herself enough credit these days for looking as good as she did for being 39 yrs. old.
She continued on her search for Larcher. There he was crouched down in front of a door, looking at a partially disassembled door lock. She approached him, tapped on his shoulder and demanded, "Larcher, we need to talk."
"Nice to see you too, Missy. Have you come for your victory parade?" He asked smiling.
"What on earth are you talking about? I'm here to tell you to keep your kid away from my daughter. You said, that if I cooperated with you, he and his friends would stay away." She said, angry and oblivious to the gist of what he had just said.
"I don't know what you are talking about. My brat doesn't pick his nose without my okay. Can you say the same for your brat?"
Marnie stared at him angry and frustrated. Then it hit her like an invisible vapor reaching up to her nose, "What are you talking about, a 'victory parade'?"
"You know, for you single-handedly bringing down the top men's team in volleyball for the first time in fifteen years." He said still smiling. "Yeah, it's a big deal here. The men have a round robin to field their best team, and the women do the same. Then there is a championship match. The men always let the women stay in the game until the very end, and take it away at the end with fanfare that only they appreciate. Well Missy, you've started a new tradition, that will probably last for years, the 'tits between the eyes offense'. I can see it now, every game close until the very end, where the women all flash the men at that crucial moment, and steal each game away from them for the next fifteen years. This year you crushed their egos. In the future, it will be the moment that everyone will be waiting for. You should see the tribute some of the ladies have set up for you in the secretary's lounge. Want to come and see?" He said, like the Cheshire Cat.
They went down to the second floor. Marnie's insides were a flutter. Her heart was pumping faster. Her short breaths were interspersed with a deep breath of longer duration. Larcher held one of the glass doors for her. She entered, started to look around, the few bodies taking a break looked back, and started to recognize her. They were looking over her shoulder and then back at her. So, Marnie turned to look at the 17 by 11" blown up picture of a 39 year old lady, flashing her large breasts proudly at two men across the net from her, and who have let the volleyball touch the ground between them. Above the picture was a computer banner, "We Are The Champions". Below it were two other 11 by 8½" shots of Marnie with her top being held up by a teammate.
"Oh-my-god, Larcher! You've got to do something. I can't have Roger seeing this. Please help me. Where else? Oh-my-god, no!" She said grabbing his arm in a plea for help, despite his snickering.
"Don't worry Missy. You know Walter always looks out for you." He said, causing stomach acid to rise to the back of Marnie's throat.
Okay Ladies, and Gentleman, these are going to have to be removed. It is against the company's anti-harassment policy to have such materials displayed on the premises." He said, as he reached up to untack the 17 by 11 photocopy blowup.
An "awwwwe" whined through the room.
"Can I have that?" The man in the room asked.
"Sure." Said Larcher, "Knock yourself out."
"Larcher!" Marnie said annoyed.
"Don't worry Missy, he doesn't know your husband." Larcher said amused. "Now I expect you to do something for me." Larcher said as they moved out to the hall.
"Larcher, you've got to promise me that all of the pictures are going to be gathered up before my husband sees them. It's over for me if he does, and you'll lose your leverage over me too. Your plaything, your obedient slave, your slut, is history, if he ever learns any of this." Marnie said with almost a hint of relief at the thought.
"That's not true, Missy. You can't manage without me. You've discovered the slut in you that all women have. You all tamp it down to keep order in your lives. You expect other women to tamp it down in them too, to make it easier for you all to protect your territories. You are made to be a slut. You actually love sex more than us pricks do. You can cum over and over again. You toy with us, but in reality, the more cock you get, the more cock you want." Larcher opined uncharacteristically.
"Larcher you haven't a clue about women. You are so far from reality I am embarrassed for you." Marnie said disgusted.
"No, you're thinking from the standpoint of needing us for things like security, fathering, and to lift and carry for you. If you take those things away, you'll have to admit, that you've wanted and needed more cock, more of the time, since you've met me. I'll bet your wet right now with just us talking about it." Larcher said, as he put his fingers up her skirt. "Damn, pantyhose." He said, he pulled the hose and panties down to mid thigh right in the hall.
"God, Larcher. Are you insane?" Marnie said, putting her hand on top of his arm to stop him, worried she'd be caught.
Larcher reached his mark between her legs. "See, what did I tell you. Wet as a bitch in heat." He continued to stroke her, his hand entering her skirt through the slit; Marnie was looking both ways in panic, her hands on his shoulders, standing against the wall of the corridor, legs apart, a little higher on tiptoes than with just her heels.
"Larcher, please stop. Don't, not here like this. What if someone sees me?"
"Thank you. You made my point." He said, pulling his hand away. "You didn't want me to stop because you didn't want it; you wanted me to stop for socialized reasons. If you had no consequences to suffer, you'd pretty much have me, or someone else, do things like this to you all day. What eats me, is that you can. For a guy, we get it off and then have to wait for a time, even days, for some guys, to get the batteries back to full charge before we get to do it again." Larcher bemoaned.
"This is all very interesting," she said sarcastically, "but shouldn't you be finding the other pictures? My husband will be here any minute, if he hasn't already come back from a breakfast meeting." Marnie pleaded worried.
Larcher got on his intercom and talked in code that made no sense to Marnie. "Okay, it's taken care of. Now come with me."
"Where are you taking me?" She asked concerned.
"You're going to meet some new friends I've made here. You'll like them, especially Eddie."
They went to a lower level, to a room with a lot of machinery. "This is the physical plant for the building." Larcher explained in a louder voice, so she could hear him over the noise. "This is the center of comfort for the building, hot, cold, light, dark . . ." He waved at a couple of guys at a desk in an office with two walls of glass. As they entered, he introduced Marnie to the 55-60 year old called Will, and to the 40 or so year old named Sam.
Marnie looked at the desktop. They had been looking at all sorts of shots of her at the volleyball game, the same ones as in the lounge, another being drenched in water and a few uneasily atop two guy's shoulders. "Oh no," she feared, "I must be everywhere."
"Larcher, what about these?" She asked.
"Don't worry, Missy, these are a private stash. They won't get back to hubby."
"Oh when is this picture thing going to stop. It is so humiliating to know about it. Id be better off not even knowing who sees them. I know what's coming now. I could use some cock, damn. Larcher, that prick, was right about one thing, the more male meat I get, the more I need it. Oh I wish it wasn't so. I just want to go back to my ordinary existence, with my ordinary family, with my ordinary urges. Larcher is all wrong on one score though, though, in his longing to be able to cum all the time. Being able to cum more often is no compensation for having to. God, if Larcher makes me do these two, it will be the oldest guy I've ever done, and the first black man. So, I wonder where Eddie is?" Marnie thought to herself as the men talked.
Marnie listened back in. "She's wearing pantyhose? Could we see? Golly, pantyhose and heels. This is one special day." Will said with delight.
"Missy, my friends here don't believe me when I tell them that you are wearing pantyhose instead of stockings. Why don't you take off that skirt for a while." Larcher suggested, but Marnie knew it as an order.
She removed her skirt watching the reaction of the two mechanics. She carefully folded it, and put it on top of a filing cabinet.
"Do you think she would just walk around like that? Man, those are killer legs." Will asked excitedly.
"Sure. Missy, why don't you get some exercise in and out of this office and up and down there in front of this window. Will here would like to see those legs of yours in action." Larcher said, as Marnie momentarily glared at him.
Somehow, being talked about in the third person, as if she wasn't there, made her feel more like a slut, when they were expecting and asking that she do things to turn them on. She walked, as she was told, then started to get into it a little, as she was heating up between her legs to take on the inevitable. She wanted to see previews of cumming attractions in their pants. She did not have long to wait, either, as they both started adjusting their work pants, while ogling her legs openly.
Sam asked Larcher to see her butt. The tails of her blouse were hiding it somewhat. Larcher had Marnie remove her blouse and she added it to the skirt.
"Man you couldn't tell those were the same tits as in the pictures, under that shirt." Will said. "Do you suppose she would walk some more without that bra?"
Marnie didn't wait for Larcher's quaint request, she knew what would be coming and went straight for the strap, lowering the bra off of her arms, and tossing it to the other things. She started walking again, keeping her face toward the men each time she turned. Her breasts were bobbing and swaying a little as she walked with heels. Then Larcher signaled her back in.
"Oh good," she was thinking, "I'm ready to get started, and the sooner we do, the sooner I can get out of here, hey boys, I'm ready, I'm slick, slide right in. Cum to mama." Marnie was toying with them in her head.
"Like I was saying, the panties and pantyhose seem redundant. It's the same as wearing suspenders and a belt, you know, like Eddie." Will said.
"Well let's fix that shall we?" Larcher said as he guided Marnie close to him with his hand on her arm. He took out a pocketknife, that he opened with just his thumb, and pulled aside the pantyhose to slice the panties at their narrowest part on the hips. Then he took hold of the front and yanked the now lose panties up and out.
"Argh! Owe! Damn you Larcher, that hurt." Marnie said fuming and holding her tender crotch.
While Marnie was bent forward, legs apart, both hands tending to her sore pussy, first Will, then Sam, reached out and each put a hand on one of her tits to feel their mass, and smoothness. As she got over the initial wave of pain, she took her hands away and stood up. Will bent down to get a close look at her pubic area, looking as if he noticed a problem. "What the? Is she really a blond? I don't see anything." He said quizzically.
"No buddy, she's bald. Want to see?" Larcher said, guiding Marnie back up against the desk. "Here, lean back and don't move." He told her, holding up the knife again.
Marnie looked at it eyes wide, frozen, holding her breath, as it dropped out of her sight. Larcher pinched and pulled at the material between her legs, and crudely cut away the middle panel of the pantyhose. Now her glistening shaved pussy and mons veneris were visible to the curious eyes. She stood back up, relieved Larcher's skills with the knife were sufficient.
"Do you think she would mind if I rested my woody in her cove for a while?" Will asked Larcher.
"I think she'd appreciate more activity than that Will. Why don't you Fuck her silly. She likes that." Larcher said crudely.
"Oh man, this is great." Sam blurted spontaneously.
Will quickly let his pants and drawers down, while Marnie voluntarily positioned herself legs apart, bent forward, hands resting palms down around the edges of the seat of a straight back chair. She looked back over her left shoulder at Will nervously jerking his meat. He was kind of embarrassed to be performing in front of the others, but so horny looking at her pantyhose covered legs parted in front of him, that he blocked the presence of the others out of his mind. He approached her from behind, never taking his eyes off of the target until he was at her gate and starting to slowly slide in.
His eyes closed as he entered her snatch. A smile came to his face as he concentrated on her warm, wet pouch hugging his sensitized tool. He stood there like that, with his grin, until Marnie contracted her cunt muscles and moved her rear a bit to get his attention. He opened his eyes, realized his job, and started to pump slowly, very slowly, in and out. Larcher and Sam were trying to pace his motion by bobbing their heads, and leading him to a faster pace bobbing slightly faster with expressions of one encouraging a follower to hurry and catch up.
Marnie would have been okay with the pace if she had all day, but she wanted out of there as soon as possible. So, she reached between her legs and cupped his balls with her left hand. He froze. "No stupid, don't stop. Keep moving." Marnie was thinking as she started to urge him on by stroking, pulling, and squeezing impulses on his nuts. At first he just leaned back with his eyes closed, mouth open, groaning, but then a switch snapped and he started pumping into her like his life depended on it. He came in a flurry of quick deep thrusts with his head bobbing forward and back. To watch him you would guess he was giving himself whiplash. He pulled out totally spent and walked his way around the desk with his hands on its edges until he plopped down in the seat and vegetated.
Sam was all eager to have a turn. Lucky for Marnie there were two of them, because Will had got her hot to a holding temperature, but she really needed to be cooked. Sam had his pants down and off, with a good sized stiff cock twitching to go. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Marnie looked at her first dark meat. It was beautiful to her, and it had a provocative curve to it. It came straight out from his body and curved almost straight up by the end. She waited in eager anticipation for its grand entrance. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Ya know Miss, most women like me to do it from the front. They say it feels better to them that way." Sam said, more concerned for her, than asking out of his own preference.
Marnie sensed that he was being considerate. It was unexpected. She had grown used to the third party way they were referring to her in the room. The anonymity of being screwed from behind was something she had grown to tolerate to a certain degree. She did not have to look at the screwer. Somehow, the front-to-front position was too personal, too humiliating, a violation of her love for Roger. "But he is being concerned for my pleasure. These bastards don't usually care about me. No, if I were to look at him while he did it to me, I'd feel so filthy, so immoral, and so slutty. But, I need to cum badly. There's no sign of this guy Eddie. If Larcher even tries to do me now, I know he'll do it in my rear and laugh that he got off, while denying me my release. Give him the front? No. I can't . . ." Marnie was debating, when at the last minute, she turned around and sat on the front edge of the desk with her legs open and arms held out for Sam's neck, with her eyes closed.