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Archive for June, 2013

Chapter One

Gina Weston finally gave up. It was now two in the morning and
she still hadn’t found a suitable take-home for the evening. After
spending nearly three hours in a building filled with loud music, drugs
and hot, sexy teenagers she was still unable to pick up any of the
young girls that appeared to be so available. She shrugged her
shoulders, chugged down the last of her drink and headed for the exit.
Some nights she just went home empty-handed.

‘At least,’ she thought to herself, ‘I was able to score a little
dope!’

The twenty-eight year old woman never used the drugs herself but
usually kept a small stash for some of her young visitors. It always
made things much easier.

Although Gina lived a very conservative life of a law firm
partner during the day, at night she traveled to a nearby city to
indulge herself in the most wicked of lesbian pleasures. Her taste was
for young girls, especially between the ages of thirteen and seventeen.
She frequented raves and teen hangouts in search of her prey, but this
night, unfortunately, she had struck out.

She turned the car onto the main drag and headed for the
interstate, resigning herself to the fact that she would have to go
solo on this night. She had worked up quite a fantasy as she eyed the
sweet young girls on the dance floor. Her needy pussy was aching for
some attention.

Halfway through town, Gina’s eyes were drawn to a solitary female
figure walking on the sidewalk with her head bent slightly. As she
approached she was able to make out the short denim skirt and jacket
the walker was wearing and could plainly see a stuffed backpack on the
girls back. Her heart began to pound.

‘Damn!’ she said aloud. ‘A runaway!’

Gina had seen them on the streets before and had actually been
able to pick up a few up for an evening of nasty fun. Runaways were
excellent entertainment for the woman and she usually kept them around
for a few days before sending them on their way, back into the streets.
Gina made no bones about it. As far as she was concerned young teenage
girls were perfect sex toys and nothing else.

She slowed her approach, wishing instead that she could just jump
out and grab the girl. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed at
the back of the teenager’s body. Her legs were long and thin and led up
to a perfectly rounded ass that showed easily in the tight skirt the
girl was wearing.

Gina guessed the girl’s age to be about fifteen as she pulled up
next to her and rolled down the electric window.

“Are you ok?” she asked, adding a touch of concern to her voice.

The girl looked over at the car and nodded.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Gina added. “This city is
dangerous at night!”

“I’m OK.” the girl answered, her voice low and muffled.

“I’m serious. This is very dangerous.” Gina said, her voice full
of motherly concern.

When the teenager stopped walking and turned to face Gina, the
older woman let out a low hiss. The girl was absolutely gorgeous. Her
innocent face was cutely framed by her short, fine, blond hair, giving
her a tomboyish appearance. Her small nose turned up slightly accenting
her full, soft lips.

“I know it’s dangerous – that’s why I’m leaving!” the teen said.

“Can I give you a ride?” Gina offered. “I’ll take you wherever
you want to go. I just can’t leave you out here like this.”

Before the girl could answer, a loud squeal of spinning tires
came from down the street. Both Gina and the teenager turned to see
what was going on. A small rundown truck slid around the corner and
headed towards the teen. There were four or five men in the back of the
pickup shouting and laughing, obviously drunk. When they caught sight
of the lone teenager they went wild.

“Hey baby! Wanna play?” one shouted

“Woo hoo! Looks like we got us some free pussy tonight after all
boys!” another added as the truck pulled closer.

“Quick! Get in!” Gina called out as she flung the passenger door
open.

The teen threw her backpack in the back seat and eagerly jumped
into the car, slamming the door behind her. Gina hit the gas, leaving a
long black stripe on the pavement and a truckload of stunned child
molesters behind. She could hear the men cursing at her as she sped
away.

“That was close!” she said as she let out a deep breath.

“Thank you.” the girl whispered back, not looking directly at
Gina.

“Glad I could help.” the woman replied, extending her hand as she
drove. “My name is Gina Weston.”

The young teenager finally turned to look at her rescuer as she
took the woman’s hand and shook it. For a second, the two of them
stared into each other’s eyes, Gina looking for vulnerability and the
runaway searching for trust. They each found what they were looking
for, although Gina’s was not that sincere.

“Leslie.” the teenager said.

“Leslie what?” Gina asked.

“Just Leslie! I don’t have a last name.”

“I see”, said the older woman, “Pissed off at your parents, huh?”

Young Leslie turned quickly towards the older woman, her eyes
wide with shock at the abrupt and frank nature with which Gina
addressed her. Such language had never been used in her home and she
was mildly amused at hearing the words coming from an adult.

“Yeah! Big time!” she said, a small smile starting to spread on
her face.

“I know how you feel!” Gina replied. “I left home when I was
fifteen also.”

“I didn’t say I ran away from home!” Leslie retorted. “And I
didn’t say I was fifteen either!”

“Ok. How old are you then?”

Leslie paused. She was about to say that she was eighteen but so
far that story had not been believed by anyone she had met.

“Sixteen.” she lied anyhow.

“Oh – my mistake.” Gina replied apologetically although she knew
the girl was not being truthful.

“You did runaway from home though. Didn’t you?” she added.

Leslie paused again. If she told this woman she was a runaway she
might find herself at the police station and worst of all back home
with her parents – a place she didn’t want to be right now.

“No, Just missed my ride home from a party.” Leslie said flatly
as if to drop the subject.

“Well then!” Gina smiled as she spoke, as if she believed every
word. “Tell me where you live and I’ll be happy to drop you off.”

Leslie gulped loudly. She hadn’t planned far enough in advance to
cover her lies and didn’t know how to get out of the web of deceit she
was weaving for herself.

“I don’t really feel like going home yet. I thought I might just
go for a long walk.” she stuttered.

“This is no place for a beautiful young woman to be out walking
alone.” Gina cautioned, choosing her words carefully and inserting
‘beautiful’ and ‘woman’ intentionally to win the girls trust. It
worked. Leslie let out a deep breath and smiled over at her.

“Thank you.” the teenager said. (more…)

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Chapter One

Eighteen-year-old Maria Hudson ran through the front door, slung
her shopping bags on the floor, and stomped up the stairs without even
a simple greeting for her mother. There were no other words for young
Maria’s behavior other than ‘rude’, ‘belligerent’ and ‘rebellious’. She
listened to no one, especially her poor mother, and did exactly as she
pleased. The evidence of her juvenile delinquency was plastered all
over her from the ‘snake bracelet’ tattooed on her ankle to the large
ring so brazenly hanging from her small left nipple. Maria was a real
problem and the young girl was going further down hill fast.

Janet Hudson didn’t know what to do with her brazen, young
daughter. She was sure the girl was into all kinds of trouble and she
felt helpless to stop her. She had tried everything imaginable to bring
her up properly but all her compassion and understanding seemed to have
failed miserably.

As she stooped to pick up the spilled merchandise Janet felt a
tinge of anger ignite inside of her. She felt like a common slave to
her daughter, always doing whatever necessary to avoid a confrontation
with the girl. It just wasn’t fair the way Maria treated her. She
worked hard throughout the week to support the both of them and the
least she deserved was a little respect from her daughter.

Janet’s anger stewed as she cleaned up the mess. She picked up
what appeared to be a fake diamond ring from the floor and upon
examining it more closely she realized it was the real thing.

‘My god!’ she thought. ‘This must be worth a fortune!’

In an instant Janet realized that her daughter had stolen the
ring from some VERY high priced jewelry boutique. It was too much. The
girl had gone to far and Janet knew she had to do something drastic to
stop her before it was too late. She stormed to the stairway and yelled
up to her daughter.

“Maria! Maria!” she shouted.

“What?” the girl screamed from her bedroom, not bothering to get
up for her mother. Her voice carried a bitchy, aggravated air to it.

“Get down here now!” Janet shouted angrily.

“Alright! Alright!” yelled Maria as she trudged down the hallway.
She glared angrily down at her mother for disturbing her.

“Is this yours?” Janet barked as she held up the sparkling ring.

“Yeah! What about it?”

“Where did you get it?” she demanded.

“None of your damn business!” Maria hissed back.

“You stole this! Didn’t you?”

“So what if I did?” Maria laughed, “What are you gonna do about
it?”

“This”, she said shaking the ring at her daughter, “is grand
larceny!”

“Oh, fuck off!” Maria bellowed as she turned and stomped back to
her bedroom. She closed the door behind herself and locked it.

Janet went into a fit of rage and bounded up the stairs, the ring
still tight in her grip. When she found the door locked she began
pounding madly on it with her fists.

“Open this door!” she yelled, her anger flooding through her like
a torrential hurricane.

“Fuck off!” came Maria’s muffled voice.

Janet turned away from the room and walked slowly back down the
stairs trying desperately to quell her temper. She had reach the
breaking point though and even her best efforts to calm herself failed.

“That girl needs some severe discipline!” she said quietly as she
headed for the kitchen.

Janet knew that the welfare of her daughter was at stake and knew
that she was going to have to take desperate measures to instill
respect and obedience in the out-of-control teenager.  As she sat at
the table, trembling with rage, a plan began to develop in her mind.
She remembered the religious deprogrammers and the extreme measures
they had to go through to remove the brainwashing that cult leaders had
used on their victims. Janet decided a similar plan would be necessary
to save her daughter’s life.

Janet spent the rest of her day making lists and planning Maria’s
‘conversion’ to a disciplined and respectful human being. It was late
afternoon by the time she had formulated a complete plan and she had to
hurry to do her shopping before the stores closed. She bought most
everything from the local hardware store but stopped to make a few
purchases at the pharmacy.

Arriving home, Janet was relieved to see that Maria had gone out
but was infuriated with her failure to leave a note saying where she
was going. It was more fuel for the unquenchable furnace of anger
inside of her and it compelled her to even greater determination. She
stormed up to Maria’s bedroom and flung open the door. The room was a
filthy mess. Her first reaction was to clean it but she caught herself
and left the room as it was.

Janet’s first project was to replace Maria’s doorknob with
another, which did not have a lock. It wasn’t nearly as hard as she
thought it would be and her satisfaction with her work helped to urge
her on. She bolted padlocks to the frame of the small window that
opened onto the front yard and locked them tight. Next Janet tied a
single rope to the bottom of the brass headboard and let it drop to the
floor. She fastened two similar roped to either side of the footboard.

With satisfaction, Janet put the rest of her supplies in her own
closet and went to make herself dinner. As she ate she rehearsed her
plan over and over again in her mind. This was it, Maria’s last chance.
Once her ‘deprogramming’ was in motion, she knew she couldn’t turn
back.

Janet retired early in the evening. Her plan required her to be
up at odd hours and she knew she would need all the sleep she could
get.

At four AM she awoke with her alarm clock buzzing annoyingly in
her ear. When she finally regained full consciousness she climbed out
of bed and changed into her black one-piece bathing suit and tied her
long, jet-black hair up into a bun. She was going to need great freedom
of movement for her task and the bathing suit would afford her that
freedom. (more…)

Posted in Lesbian scat, Mature Scat, Pissing, Scat stories | Comments Off on Desperate Measures