Fine Italian Wine

Sherri spotted him in the receiving line.

There he was standing out like an African Adonis. He was moving slowly towards her. Sherri held her breath. She had to meet him!

"Sherri! Sherri! I'm talking to you." Sherri's attention snapped out of her dreamy fog. It was her sister, Veronica. It was her wedding. In fact, it was Veronica's third wedding.

"I need you to find papa. I can't find him," Veronica said.

"I'll check on him!" Sherri said. She knew where he would be. She found him in his study with three men. They didn't look like wedding guests. With papa, it was always business first, she thought.

"Excuse me, Papa. Veronica needs you," Sherri said as respectfully as she could. He nodded. Sherri hurried back to Veronica's wedding reception.

A matronly woman stopped Sherri in the hallway.

"Pardon me, is this not Veronica's fourth wedding?" She asked.

"Actually, her first was annulled. It doesn't count," Sherri said smiling.

"Oh, that's right!" the woman said.

Sherri hurried back to the reception. She was right! The talk seems to be, "Why was Veronica wearing white on her third or fourth wedding? The simple answer was that Veronica has no shame!" Sherri thought.

Sherri found Veronica eating a slice of wedding cake. "Oh no, Veronica is going to put back on all of those 30 pounds she lost before she found Aldo," Sherri thought to herself.

"Papa is in the office talking. He's coming," Sherri said and added in a sing-song voice, "You have cake on your chin."

Veronica frowned and wiped it away.

Sherri looked around. She spotted him on the other side of the pool. He looked in his early thirties. He was taller than anyone her Italian family. Sherri guessed he was six-foot-four. He was trim and fit. He was wearing a neatly tailored black brocade African style robe that flowed down to his black patent-leather shoes. He was clean shaven and had a sexy Obama-style haircut.

"Are you with the groom?" Sherri asked.

"No, actually, the groom is with the bride. I'm just here as a friend," he said smiling. "Pardon me. I'm joking of course. I am an old college chum of his. My name is James," he said.

"I'm the bride's sister. I'm Sherri."

"Yes, I spotted you in the reception line. Then you were gone."

Sherri laughed.

"It's a long story," Sherri said. She opened her purse and pulled out a blunt and placed it in her lips. He offered her a light. She lightly touched his hand and looked into his eyes as she set her blunt to flame. She took a deep toke and exhaled slowly.

"Do you think this will work out? Oh, I shouldn't ask that question." He looked embarrassed.

"Don't be embarrassed! The simple answer is: Does he have money?" Sherri laughed. She took another toke and slowly exhaled.

James laughed.

"A woman cannot be too rich or too thin. Isn't that what they say?" James said.

"There are other factors."

"I can only imagine."

Sherri made a side step to put her body between the guests and James. She reached down and felt his manhood through his robe. It started growing.

"Some things shouldn't be left to the imagination," Sherri said looking into his eyes.

"I would love to discuss reality with you sometime," James said smiling.

Sherri released his now fully erect member. She offered him the blunt. He took it and pulled in a deep toke. She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card and handed it to James.

He looked at it. It read simply, "Sherri A." Her cell number was below."

"I'll call you," he whispered.


***

Sherri got into the car with her husband, Stewart, 55. He was thick in the middle and balding on the top. He pulled out into the street and settled down to driving home.

"Why are you so sullen?" Sherri asked. It was an accusation. She knew that her accusations always made him angry.

"I SAW YOU TALKING TO THAT ... THAT MAN BY THE POOL! You were throwing yourself at him!" Stew said.

"Settle down! You are always so jealous. He's an old business associate of papa's. Do you want me to tell papa you disapprove of his business associates?" Sherri knew how to get to Stew. He had no money. Papa set him up in business. Papa had to rein him in once before. Sherri knew it.

"There is no need to bring papa into this," Stew said suddenly his voice was different.

Sherri had all the money. If she threw him out, he would be practically penniless.

"Let's talk about something different. Don't you think Veronica looked ravishing in white?" Sherri said. She was teasing him.

***

Sherri walked out on the patio and adjusted a chaise lounge into the sunlight. She was going to get some morning rays. She sat down and spread her long, shapely legs on the lounge. She was 39 and a mom of two grown children. Her body was fit. Her hair was dark brown. Her hazel eyes were wide set on her narrow face. Sherri placed a blunt to her full red lips and lit it. She took a deep toke and held it a while before releasing it through her nose.

She checked her cell phone.

"Why hasn't he called," she thought and added, "Maybe I came on too strong." She dismissed the notion and put her cell phone down.

The phone rang. It was Veronica.

"Hi!" Sherri said.

"Hi I'm on the way to Jamaica!" Veronica said excitedly.

"Great! Are you having fun?"

"Yes! Listen. I met this gorgeous hunk in the ship's lounge."

"Already playing the field? Veronica!"

"I keep my options open. We went back to his cabin and had some fun if you know what I mean."

"What about Aldo? How did you get rid of him?" Veronica had a sudden vision of Aldo being pushed overboard. Her mind watched Aldo splashing around as he was receding in the distance.

"He got seasick. He hasn't been out bed." She laughed.

Sherri laughed.

"Just to make sure he doesn't suddenly get over it, I slipped him a *******." Veronica laughed again. "I got to go. Call you later!"

Sherri put the phone down and picked up the latest issue of Vogue and started turning the pages.

The phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Hi. This is James ...."

***

Sherri looked in the mirror and put the lipstick to her lips. She wanted her lips to be bright red. She wanted her eyes to be accented with mascara and a little bit of blush on her cheeks.

She slipped on a pair of stylish lacy-top hose, a thong, and a camisole not unlike those displayed in Vogue. Lastly, she put on a short miniskirt and a top that accentuated her 34DD's.

She slipped into a pair of red patent leather pumps with micro stiletto heels. Lastly, she parted her hair and brushed it back so that it hung down off of her shoulders.

She got into her red SL-Class Mercedes and lowered the top. It was a 45-minute drive to the location that James selected.

It was a café in a business district. James met her outside and escorted her to a patio. He gave her a kiss before holding the chair for her.

"Glad you could make it," James said smiling. He was dressed in a long flowing robe. It was tie-dyed blue and white. It was semitransparent. She got glimpses of his loose pants under his robe. The front panel was gold with embroidery around the edges. The embroidery design circled his neck, and the cuffs of his sleeves and trousers. He wore a similarly colored hat with gold embroidery around the base.

"Oh yes! I am too. This is very nice. Do you live nearby?" Sherri asked. She sat down and displayed her shapely legs for him while he sat down.

"Yes. I live in an apartment on the fourteenth floor.

The waiter came and James ordered red wine.

"The wedding was nice," James said.

Sherri laughed.

"It more like a meltdown, you mean," Sherri laughed again.

"I thought the repartee by the pool was very interesting. It's been on my mind," he said smiling.

Sherri's ruby red lips touched the glass. Her eyes looked over the rim of the glass at him before sipping the wine.

"I captured an image of something I wanted to explore further," Sherri said without changing the expression on her face.

They finished their wine, and James got up and took her hand. Together they got on the elevator. They stepped off on a floor and walked to his two-level condo decorated in African art and nude women. The women were in all stages of undress and engaging in sexual activities with African chieftains.

On the floor and the walls were more erotic objets d'art such as giant phalluses and women's busts.

James dropped a DVD on the player. A 120-inch high-definition TV screen came alive with images of a tall African male and a classy blonde woman in a sensual modern dance to the rhythm of drums.

James brought her a ******* in a metallic gray goblet. It was darker than any wine she had ever seen.

"What is it?" Sherri asked.

"It's a special ceremonial potion used to prepare temple prostitutes for servitude," James said, looking into her eyes. "It is derived from *******, wine, and some roots ...." His words trailed off as if there were other ingredients that he did not want to speak.

She put the goblet to her lips. The bouquet was wine. She let the liquid touch her lips. She let it flow through her lips to her tongue. It was chilled and tasted like red wine. She took a small sip.

"Take another sip and follow me," James said. "... and then the novice candidate for temple ******* is led to the first station." James motioned for Sherri to follow. They stood before the mask-head of a temple priest-god.

"She takes another sip of the potion," James said. Then she proceeds on to the next station. Sherri felt suddenly compelled to obey his descriptions as if they were commands. Again she put the goblet to her lips and sipped.

"Then she is adorned with the headdress of servitude," he said as he placed the headdress of bones and beads on her head.

"Then she moves to the final station," James said. His voice was deep and almost imperceptible.

It was a six-foot high erect phallus with the balls resting on the ground. A honey-like liquid began to ooze like pre-cum from a hole in the tip.

"She tastes the liquid on the phallic-god and takes a sip from the goblet." James whispered.

Sherri was strangely compelled to obey. She touched her tongue to the golden-honey fluid on the phallus tip. It was bitter. Then she took a larger sip from her goblet to wash away the bitter taste.

James moved closer to her ear.

"Taste it again," James whispered.

Sherri put her tongue on the honey-like ooze. It was not as bitter as before.

Take another sip," he whispered.

Sherry again put the goblet to her lips and sipped the potion.

She was beginning to feel strange. Her peripheral vision was distorted and out of focus. She took another sip from the goblet.

"Place the goblet on the table," he whispered.

Sherri tried to put the goblet down, but her vision was too distorted. It took three tries to put the goblet down.

Sherri turned to look around the room. When she turned back to James, she saw a black man in a hideous multi-colored tribal mask. She blinked and the vision went away. She saw James. He surrounded her with his arms and body. Their lips met. Her mouth was open to receive his lips and tongue. Their juices mingle.

Her body trembled as his hand roamed over her body at will. She gasped when he slipped her top over her shoulder and let it fall down. Sherri unbuckled his belt and slipped his zipper down. James unzipped her skirt in the back and let it drop to the floor. James gave a kick to rid his feet of his sandals and pants. Sherri unbuttoned his robe and reached her hands to touch his skin.

James reached around her body to unhook her bra, letting it drop.

His hand found her smooth slick cunt. His finger dipped into her love canal which was hot and wet like molten lava. He used the wetness to lubricate her clitoris.

Her tiny hand surrounded his 10-inch phallus and gently squeezed. His manhood responded by growing in her hand. Knowing that she had a sensual effect on this man, Sherri began to tremble.

James laid her on the wide circular sofa. Her svelte body contrasted with the black leather.

"Are you the African god who has come to possess me?" Sherri said teasingly.

"Yes!" James said. He was serious, Sherri thought.

"Then will you hang me on your wall as a trophy?"

"Yes, but you must complete the ritual."

"I will satisfy my African god."

"Will you kneel before me?"

"Yes!"

"Will you obey my every command?"

"Yes!"

James lay back. His enormous phallus was standing erect. A large drop of clear pre-cum glistened in the light like a jewel atop an idol.

"Be my fellatrix. If you please me, I will allow you to be in my harem," James whispered. It was surreal.

"Oh yes master!" Sherri said.

She put her little hand around the shaman-lover's black serpent. She pushed back the foreskin and exposed the one-eyed demon-snake ready to spit hot, sensual semen-venom.

"Suck it!" It was a command.

Sherri suddenly felt like an innocent temple virgin. "Will one taste change my world?" she thought.

Her mouth covered his cock head. She was producing an enormous amount of saliva which ran down his shaft and covered her hand. Her tongue traced the underside of his cock from the hilt to the tip. Her cheeks sank in as the pulled out and sucked.

"Oh!" James moaned.

Sensing James' pleasure only heightened Sherri's pleasure. She was deriving pleasure from giving pleasure. She felt James' hand push her off. He pushed her back, spread her legs, and lay in her saddle. She felt like an unholy receptacle ready for the evil snake to enter her being and change her forever.

James positioned his cock at her nether lips. Her vulva was swollen and red. Her labia were extremely sensitive. Her clitoris was extended and erect.

It was like a dream or an illusion. Was it real, she thought? She imagined that he positioned his magical rod against her clitoris and rubbed gently.

"Oh!" Sherri moaned.

James worked his magic member against her clit head. His profuse pre-cum was providing more than enough lubrication.

"Oh, James please make love to me. Make me your slave!" Sherri moaned.

"Take it and guide me in!" It was a command.

Sherri took his magical morphing serpent and aimed it at the soul of her pleasure. James pushed. Both felt Sherri's cunt release.

Sherri moaned as the torrid tool penetrated the depths of her pleasure pit. He began a rhythm which Sherri sensually mimicked with the thrusts of her pelvis. The tempo became faster and faster.

She felt it rising out of her clitoris. Like a vortex with her clitoris in the center. Swirling ... spinning ... like a whirlwind. Higher and higher she ascended. Her cunt was like liquid fire. Her mind suddenly snapped back to reality. James's cock was exploding inside of her. It felt like hot liquid lava!

"Oh, fuck me! Fuck me!" Sherri screamed. Her cunt was contracting.

James moaned.

Slowly her fire cooled from white to red hot. His cock remained stiff inside of her.

Sherri felt pleased. Pleasure is giving pleasure, she thought. Her only thought now was to give James pleasure with no assurance that he would reciprocate.

James pulled out and stood up. He reached for a blunt and lit it. He took a deep toke and exhaled slowly. Sherri rolled over on her back and closed her eyes.

"Get up and clean my cock!" It was a demand which Sherri was eager to obey. She got on her knees and placed his slick, slimy cock head in her mouth. The taste was a sensual mixture of semi-sweet cum and raw female cunt. The memory of this moment and taste of the sex was to be seared into her mind for a lifetime.

"Get dressed and fix your makeup, too," James demanded. Sherri obediently dressed and fixed her makeup. She started to comb her hair.

"Comb your hair straight back!"

She combed it straight back, but it looked like a mess. James took a long, gray linen cloth from one of his art displays. He wrapped it around her head and over the lower portion of her face. Only her eyes were uncovered. James led her out. They got on the elevator and got off in the parking garage.

He walked up to his gunmetal gray Mercedes and stopped.

"Open my door," he commanded.

"What?" Sherri said.

"You are my slave. Open the door for your master."

Sherri obeyed. James sat down. She closed his door and walked around and got in the car. It seemed so natural. There was no other action she could have taken once she heard James' voice give a command.

She got in and closed the door.

"Pull your skirt up and show me your cunt," he said.

Sherri pulled up her skirt revealing her lacy top hose and her black bush. He drove for a while to a strange place and parked on the street.

"Open my door!"

Again she got out and opened his door.

He took her hand and led her into a tattoo parlor. James removed the portion of the cloth that covered her face below her eyes. They sat down and waited while the tattooist finished another customer. The other customers stared at Sherri. A reddish blush glowed on her cheeks.

"You look fresh-fucked. Do you feel ashamed?" James said to her loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear.

"No. I don't feel ashamed of being fresh-fucked." she said.

"What are we going to do?" Sherri whispered.

"Don't talk. I will decide what you do. You will obey," he said.

The other customers watched Sherri and occasionally glanced at James who sat stoic. Finally, the tattooist escorted her to the table which was in full view of all the customers.

"I want this woman to bare my mark. It will be a tribal mark on her lower back. I want a special mark on her back, and my initials on the back of her neck. I want a stud in her tongue and barbells through her nipples," James said.

It was a veritable market basket of tattooing. The tattooist knew it was a big order that would make him a lot of cash. It was late afternoon before he finished.

***

James dropped her off at her Mercedes. Sherri drove home with her new skin illustrations tingling, her tongue feeling strange, her nipples numb, her cunt dripping cum, and her clitoris stiff and sensitive.

Sherri arrived home and went straight to her bedroom. She removed her clothes and stood before the mirror. She opened her mouth and extended her tongue. It was a stainless steel stud and was far enough back that it was not noticeable.

"Hi my name is Sherri. Hi my name is Sherri. My name is Sherri," she said to test her speech with the tongue stud. It made her speech difficult. She was dropping syllables. It sounded sexy, she thought. "Now I've got to work on it," She thought. She didn't care if Stew discovered it or not.

She turned to get a look at her lower back. The multi-colored tribal weave looked sexy. She raised her hair and used a hand mirror to get a good look at the initials on her neck. She saw JM in green letters outlined in red. Then she noticed that further down her back was his special mark, "I Fuck" in vertical letters. The lettering went from between her shoulder blades to the center of her back!

"Oh! My god! How could I ever wear anything backless in public," she exclaimed. Her mind retraced the event.

"Why did I do it? What was in that goblet? Was I *******?" Sherri concluded that she was completely aware of what she was doing.

Her mind went to the wonderful sensual love making. She reached for a blunt and lit it. She took deep drag and exhaled slowly. As she thought back to James. Her hand went to her clitoris.

***

That evening Stew was absorbed with a baseball game and beer. She sat on the couch and read Cosmopolitan. She thought about showing him her tongue stud but decided against it. She went to bed at 9 O'clock. Stew came in at 10. He put his hand on her thigh in an attempt to cuddle. Sherri shoved his hand back.
 
"Not tonight!" she said and added in her thoughts "and not any other night!" She drifted off lying on her side facing Stew. Her back was still tingling.

The next morning, Stew was gone when she woke up. She put a blunt to her lips. Her mind went to James and the sensual sex she enjoyed. Her clitoris began to grow and her cunt began to get wet.

She started to dress. On an impulse she selected something that was open in the back. She slipped on a low-cut miniskirt. She slipped on a pair of sexy sandals with straps that wound up her legs. She stood before a full length mirror and whirled around. She pinned her hair up to show James mark on her neck.

"Does this make me James' woman?" she grinned.

The phone rang.

"Hello?" Sherri said.

"Hi Sherri! It's me, Veronica!"

"Oh hi, sweetie! How's the cruise?"

"It is fantastic! I met another stud in the bar and had sex with him in his state room. We danced all night."

"Oh my god, Veronica. You are a whore on your honeymoon!" Sherry giggled. "It sounds hot!"

"It is!"

"What about Aldo? Is he still sick?"

"He hasn't gotten out of bed. I suggested that go get breakfast. He just ran to the restroom and started heaving." Veronica laughed.

Sherri laughed.

"Hey listen! I found a fantastic man! I was with him all afternoon."

"Was it the man in the African regalia at the wedding?"

"How did you guess?"

"Sherri, I know you. I saw you talking to him. He was hot!"

"OK, I'm busted ... again." Sherri laughed.

Veronica laughed.

"Hey, I have got go. We dock in Jamaica tomorrow. Not much time to do ... you know what!"

"Bye sweetie!"

"Bye bye"


***

Just after noon a deliveryman brought a large box. There was a note attached. Sherri opened the note. It was from James.

"I want to see you again. Don't open the box. Call me first." The note read.

Sherri smiled. Was this a joke? She wanted to see James, not his box. "Damn it!" she thought.

Her trembling hands dialed her cell.

"Did you open the box?" It was James. His voice was hypnotic.

"No."

"No. What?"

"No master."

"Stay on the phone and open it now."

"Yes master."

Sherry carefully opened the box. It was clothing. She carefully spread out an African robe for a woman. Then she opened a box with gold sandals. There was a matching hat.

Another box was labeled African fragrances. She opened it on his command. Besides fragrances it contained soaps and oils.

"I want you to bathe ... not shower. Use the soap and the oil. After you dry, apply the body lotion all over your body. Then I want you to dress in the clothes that I sent you. Meet me here."

He hung up without saying goodbye.

Sherri took the bottles into the bathroom. She drew warm water. She laid the bottles out in a row on her dressing table. They were not manufactured bottles. They were hand blown and each contained a cork. She poured the a few drops from a dark green bottle into the bath. She undressed and stepped into the tub.

She sighed as she settled in. The water had a hypnotic aroma that surrounded her and filled her nostrils. She reached for the soap. It had an organic, tribal scent. She rubbed it over her body. She rubbed it over her new tattoos. It had a soothing effect.

***

The dress was a halter style with a very high bodice. The material was pleated. The pleats ran from the bottom of her bodice to the floor. It flared outward. It flowed down to her mid-calves but it was split in the front and back, leaving an opening very high. She tried walking. It flowed and opened as she stepped forward. Flashes of the inside of her thighs left very little to the imagination.

It had a pattern of flowers inside a design that traced around the edges.

The hat had two high points. It sat back on her head. Her hair flowed around the outside and down her shoulders. Her pumps had a leopard pattern and eight-inch stiletto heels.

She put on her regular Este Lauder™ make up with hot pink lipstick, two-tone eye shadow and dark eyeliner. She added artificial lashes on top and bottom. It gave her wide eyes a Bambi look.

***

It seemed like long, agonizing minute before James opened his door.

"Good afternoon," he said smiling.

"Hi James ... er ... uh ... master," Sherri said smiling and looking into his dark eyes.

She stepped inside. He closed his arms around her. She felt his mouth cover her lips. She opened her mouth to accept his tongue, and she gently pressed against it. Their essence mingled.

Sherri moaned.

James broke the embrace and took her hand. He led into a room filled with masks with menacing faces that looked as if they were in agony. The scent was a pungent organic smell. He placed her in a sofa which was hewn from a log. It had brown leather cushions.

"Please have a seat," he said.

He took the same bottle and poured another ******* into the same goblet. He poured another ******* from another bottle into a second goblet. Sherri noticed that he handed her the first goblet.

"You enjoyed this wine last time. So I fixed it again," he said smiling. He walked over and sat down beside her.

Sherri placed the goblet to her lips and took a sip. The bouquet and taste were the same. It was beginning to grow on her. She continued to sip as they chatted. It was banter full of sexual innuendos.

He put down his goblet and looked at her.

"Put down your goblet and come here," he said.

Sherri felt compelled to obey. He started kissing her while his hand roamed freely over her body.

Sherri moaned.

"Stand up!" he said. It was a command.

Sherri stood up.

"Remove your clothes."

Sherri unhooked a clasp in front and let he dress drop to the floor. She was wearing only a thong and a bra.

"Unfasten your bra and let it drop."

Sherri obeyed.

"Remove your thong."

Sherri obeyed.

"Go upstairs and sit on the bed. I will be up in a moment."

She went to a large dark room. Tribal regalia adorned the walls. Masks with hideous faces hung on the walls. Five large phalluses stood on the floor around the bed, one on each corner and one at the foot. Sherri sat on the bed and awaited James.

James entered the room. He was nude. His shiny black cock was semi flaccid, but was still at least 10 inches long. He black balls hung low.

Sherri looked at his cock and began to tremble. She felt her cunt getting wet.

"Stand up!"

Sherri stood.

James poured some oil into his hand and delicately rubbed it on her body, her arms, her feet, and her hands. The oil felt cool and soothing to her. The touch of his fingers made her body tremble.

He laid her back on the bed, spread her legs, and mounted her. When his face was above her, he pressed his lips against her lips.

"Take it and guide it in."

She took his member and guided it as he pushed forward. She moaned as her labia opened to receive him. Slowly she felt his manhood push in deeper. She continued to tremble. Her breathing was heavy.

"Oh, James. Fuck me. Fuck me," she pleaded. Her hips met his thrust. Her cunt contracted. She wanted to surrender her being for his pleasure. The rhythmic love dance got faster and faster. She began to hear and feel drums in the distance. The drums grew loader and closer. Beat after beat penetrated to the very essence of her soul.

She felt her passion rise to a peak. She felt that she was falling in space. She was falling into a bottomless pit. Swirling ... contracting ... convulsing ... pleasure beyond her imagination.

She heard someone scream in the distance. It was an animalistic screan! It grew louder and louder. Suddenly she realized the scream was her scream. She was screaming. The pleasure was beyond her control.

Suddenly James gave a great heave. She felt like she was being filled with molten lava. It spewed into her cunt and poured over the rim like a volcano. In her mind she envisioned a white hot creampie spread out over the sheet.

James was spent, depleted of energy. He collapsed onto her tiny body. They were perspiring and breathing heavily.

James rolled over and got up and stood by the bed. Sherri looked up to see his manhood above her.

"Get up!"

She knew what to do. She swung her legs off of the bed and sat up. She took his war spear and covered it with her mouth. She swallowed the sticky, slimy man juice mixed with her own essence. She kept her eyes transfixed on his face.

Sherri milked his cock and squeezed the last remnants of semen from his hole. It tasted sexy and sensual. She swallowed.

"Come here," he ordered.

He took her hand and led her down the stairs to the tribal regalia room. He sat her down on a log-chair. This time there was no cushion. It was hard hewn wood. He selected up a long, thin black crop which was hanging on the wall.

He whipped it around, testing, and flexing it. The crop, cutting the air, made a high-pitched swishing sound.

He touched to crop to her leg. He tapped the inside of her leg.

"Open your legs."

Sherri parted her knees until the tapping stopped.

The crop tapped her butt.

"Slide forward. I want your butt only on the first six inches of the chair."

Sherri slid forward.

The crop tapped her back.

"Sit up straight!"

Sherri straightened her back.

"Why am I doing this?" she thought. She was afraid, sexually aroused, and humiliated. Yet, she felt compelled to obey his commands.

The crop touched her cheek.

"Look forward. Don't' turn your head," he ordered

The crop touched her chin.

"Raise your chin. Keep your eyes forward. Don't move them."

She raised her head until her eyes looked level. She could no longer see the floor.

He walked behind her.

SLAP! The crop came down on the back of her chair. It missed her, but she was startled. She started to turn her head but corrected herself.

"Don't ever turn your head! Keep it looking forward."

She heard footsteps walking away. They became fainter until the sound disappeared. Suddenly there was silence. Time passed. She had no idea how long she waited. It seemed like hours. She dared not move her head or shift positions.

Her cunt was wet with semen. A new flow of womanly passion juice joined the semen in her cunt. She suppressed the urge to go into uncontrolled trembling. Despite the extreme treatment, her passion was rising.

"If this was pleasing my master, it is pleasing me," she thought. Her cunt began to flow. She felt an orgasm sweep over her. She resisted the urge to moan or tremble. She suppressed everything except the sensual enjoyment of her orgasm.

***

Sherri heard footsteps approaching behind her. She felt joy. Now her master was going to come for her. Suddenly, she realized that there were more than one set of footsteps. Was it two sets? Was it three sets of footsteps? She was almost trembling in anticipation.

Suddenly the footsteps stopped. She could hear breathing.

"Stand up! Don't turn." It was James. He offered her the goblet. It had been refilled.

"*******!"

Sherri took the goblet and put it to her lips. Again, the bouquet and taste was the same. She swallowed it down without moving her head. Someone took the goblet.

"Walk!"

Sherri obeyed. A series of taps with the crop told her which way to go. He directed her back up the stairs to the bedroom. The second person – or was it two persons – followed behind. She could not see them.

Once in the bedroom, James placed a blindfold over her eyes.

"I want you to give pleasure with your body only. No other senses other than your touch can be allowed. You must give pleasure with your soul!"

He laid her on the bed and spread her legs....

***

Sherri took a drag from her cigarette. Her headlights parted the darkness ahead of her car. The wind was blowing over her face. She glanced in the mirror. Her head was covered by a tribal headdress. She looked down at the flowing robe she was wearing. It was different from the one she wore to James' apartment.

When she arrived home, the lights were out. She glanced at the clock. It was One O'clock!

She quickly undressed and walked into the bedroom. Stew was snoring. Sherri slipped under the covers and went to sleep with an aura of sex surrounding her and cum oozing out of her cunt and ass.

***

She awoke when a ray of sunlight flooded over her face. Stew was gone. She got up and stretched. She was nude.

She walked to the mirror. A colorful tattoo covered her right shoulder. She looked at her hands. Henna designs covered the backs of both hands. She looked at her body. A floral vine started at her hip and wound its way down her right leg. It stopped on the flat surface atop her foot.

Sherri gasped. Her mind raced back. She remembered James taking her to the tattoo parlor. She remembered lying on the table. She remembered the sound of the needle.

She looked and the tribal dress and hat were lying in a heap in the middle of the bedroom floor.

"Poor dumb-ass Stew," he never notices anything except golf, sports, and his job," she thought.

Sherri started to step into the shower but changed her mind. She made a bath. Like a ritual, she opened the bottle of oil and let several drops flow onto the water.

She stepped into the bath and reached for the soap. She bathed and stepped out. She dried herself and applied the oil to her body. It was soothing as before.

She quickly combed her hair back like before. She carefully applied her usual makeup. She put on her regalia and sandals.

In a short time Sherri was standing in front of James' door. She pressed the button and waited.

The door opened. It was James.

"Hello! I did not expect you." He was dressed in tribal regalia.

"James! Please master. I want to know what was in the goblet. Please master," Sherri pleaded. She got on her knees and bowed her head.

"Get up!"

She arose expecting to be thrown out. Instead, he took her hand and led her to the bar. He picked up the bottle and placed it in her hand.

Sherri took the bottle and looked down. The label was in English. The name was an Italian word she had never seen before. Below it was the year. She immediately recognized the year as the same as her birth. In small lettering below were more words. She strained her eyes to read the tiny letters. It read, Fine Italian Wine.
 
"WHAT! What have you done to yourself?" Stew bellowed. Stew had seen Sherri's beautiful multi-colored tribal designs adorning her body. She was just coming out of the pool nude when Stew noticed.

"What I do with my body is no concern of yours!" Sherri shot back. Stew looked shocked. He didn't expect her response at all. His elevator gaze went from the patterns on her feet, up her legs, to the rings on her beautiful slick vagina, the scrolling lettering over her mons pubis, the floral pattern that circled her navel and twisted between her breasts to her right and left shoulders, and finally the jewelry that adorned her nipples. She had large rings through her nipples and a gold chain that dangled between her breasts. The backs of her hands were adorned in henna patterns.

Stew's cock began to stir. Noticing his flushed face and tenting pants, Sherri slowly turned to let her husband see her back. She knew the words "I fuck" written in vertical scrolling letters would send him over the edge or freak him out.

"It's ... It is beautiful!" Stew said almost breathlessly.

"You think it is sexy?" Sherri said smiling coyly. She was giving him that look that she used to catch him years ago. She glanced down and saw his cock standing out in his slacks.

"Take it out and stroke it," she whispered. It was an impulse. She really didn't want to see Stew's pathetic white cock. She wanted to control him. Almost like a robot, Stew removed his pathetic 6-inch wiener and started pumping.

"That's right, baby. Stroke for your momma," Sherri urged him on. "Come on daddy. Pump it for me! Cum in your hand for me," she whispered, urging him on.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm cumming," Stew gasped and blasted into his hand. He sat down on the patio chaise lounge chair and gasped for breath. It was more pleasure than he had ever felt.

***

"Hello?" It was Veronica.

"Hi Sherri! We landed in Jamaica and checked in. I'm on the beach now raking in some rays, and this gorgeous hunk is looking at me!" she squealed.

"Oh my gawd, Veronica!. You're still on the prowl? How is Aldo?"

"Aldo? Oh! Aldo!" She said it like she had forgotten about the groom on her honeymoon. "He was on the bed when I left our room. Oh my gawd!"

"What's happening?" Sherri said.

"He's coming toward me. I want to talk to him. I got to hang up. Bye!"

"Well, Veronica is having fun," Sherri thought to herself. She lit a joint and sat back on the lounge chair. Letting the smoke slowly escape, she thought about Stew turning docile when she described her affair with James.

"That's right! It's an affair," she thought to herself. She picked up a copy of Maxim magazine and began looking at the images.

Her cell phone rang.

"Hello?" It was James.

"Meet me at 3 o'clock," he said and hung up.

"Wait!" she said, but the click told her he hung up. She glanced at her watch and she only had time to get dressed. She got up, not thinking that she was now at James' beck and call. She really didn't mind.

She stepped into the bath and drew in a breath of the herbs and spices contained in James concoctions. After getting out she sensually rubbed the oils on her skin, paying attention to her nipples and vagina rings.

She put her nipple jewelry on and waited a moment to admire it. She had gold horizontal barbells securing spider web nipple shields. She attached a six-inch long chain to one of her labia rings. She slipped on a sexy, filmy "open toed" thong that allowed the chain to dangle between her thighs.

She attached gold chain to the ring in her left nostril and fastened the other end of the chain to her left ear.

Then she slipped on a robe with a high bodice. It was like a tent but the hemline was asymmetrical and only went to three inches below her smooth, slick cunt. It had been bleached to match her milky white skin. As she walked, flashes of her cunt could be seen. When she sat down, she was exposed for all to see.

She lit a joint and took a deep toke. She walked out to her Mercedes to meet James in the ground floor bar.

James was dressed in the usual brocade robe with gold and embroidery around the edges. She held the chair for her master to set down. Then she sat down across the table from. She was careful to keep her knees shoulder width apart. She held her back straight and looked straight ahead. It was a display of public submission to her master. Her eyes were affixed to the table before her.

James ordered a white wine. Sherri waited for her master to nod that it was permissible to *******, before she picked it up and put it to her lips. She kept her eyes fixed on the table.

Several tables away, a black man watched. He could clearly easily see Sherri's smooth slick cunt and skin illustrations on her legs and thighs. He carefully noted that Sherri kept her back straight and that she sat on the first six inches of her chair.

"I have something to tell you, master," Sherri said, averting her eyes.

"Tell me."

"My husband, Steward, saw my beautiful skin illustrations."

"What did he say?"

"He loves them. He became very aroused by them. I saw that he was aroused. I suggested that he masturbate. He did. I told him that you are my master."

"What did he say?"

"He was in complete acceptance." Sherri said.

"Tell him that you will allow him to clean your body after our rendezvous."

"Yes, master! But I want to keep your precious semen inside me."

"Tell him to only clean off the outside. Do not allow him inside your body," James said.

"Yes, master."

"I'm ready to leave now," James said.

Sherri got up and held the chair for him. She followed him to his apartment.

***

Once inside, James flipped a switch and the image of a white woman, dressed in African regalia, a primitive black man began dancing. The distant sound of drums could be heard in the background. Their bodies intertwined as they moved. The set was decorated with the same regalia on the walls of James' apartment-sanctuary.

"Sit down." It was a command. Sherri took the same position with her body in the chair as she had been trained to do. Just out of her peripheral vision James poured the dark wine into the grey metallic goblet. He walked to her and handed it to her.

"Stand up!"

Sherri turned and looked into his eyes.

"The temple *******'s training will continue. First, the candidate must ******* this."

Without questioning Sherri took the goblet and placed it to her lips. The bouquet was the same. The color was unmistakably darker. She tasted it. It was bitterer, but she drank a swallow. Immediately her vision became blurred. Her peripheral vision was blurred. James had to steady her to keep from falling.

She could only see James, but movement and sounds from around her told her than others were in the room. Hands removed her robe over her head. More hands removed her brassiere. Her thong was pushed to the floor. Someone held her as she stepped out of her thong. She was guided into a darker room. A crude log fire pit dominated the center of the room. Someone threw in a power and the blaze flared up. Drums sounded faintly.

Sherri was lifted by two black men holding her each legs. Two more held her arms. She was carried and placed on a roughhewn log-altar. Someone spread her legs. Someone else positioned himself between her legs.

Sherri felt a sensual fire rising inside her body. Large lips covered her mouth. Her mouth was on fire. She felt a yearning for fulfillment. She felt her body tremble. A sensation went through her body like a bolt. She jumped.

A hot, wet phallus touched her womanhood and moved up and down over her clitoris.

"Oh! Master! Please make love to me!" she whispered. She wanted to scream, but she lacked the strength. Her entire universe was concentrated on her clitoris. The room began swirling around, faster and faster. Another orgasm began in her clitoris and spread out over her illustrated body.

Sherri gasped for a breath of air. She felt like a weight was on her chest prevent her from screaming. She managed only a faint scream of *******.

Then one after another she became the sacrifice. Her bodily orifices were used again and again for pleasure. Her universe was invaded, captured, and used. She clung onto a continuous orgasm. She felt like she was out of body watching herself holding onto the edge of a grand canyon. Deep below was the abyss of total pleasure. Above was the life she no longer wished to be. Her being was telling her to "let go!" She fainted.

When she regained consciousness, she was nude and lying stretched out on a dais, high above the floor. Her left leg was outstretched. Her right leg was drawn up. A shaman-master was dancing. His head was covered by a hideous tribal mask of bones and teeth. Someone sat her up. Again the grey goblet was presented to her lips. She took a big gulp.

She looked around. Her senses were heightened as never before. The room was light and sounds were louder. Someone crawled between her legs and pulled her knees up past her head. She felt a phallus enter her soul her again and again. Sherri wanted it. She was insatiable. She began to whimper. Then she realized it was not a whimper but a full scream! Again and again she screamed for more. The phallus erupted. She felt hot lava flow into her body. Another phallus replaced the first one. Again she felt it push inside her body which contracted to keep it in her soul. The phallus switched to her rectum. She felt her bodily orifices were temples for worship. One after another black phallus worship her orifaces.

***

"Sherri! Sherri! Wake up! Wake up! Can you hear me?"

"James?" Sherri thought it was James.

"No! It's me, Stew!" her husband said.

Sherri slowly came to her senses. Stew explained that she was lying on the bed when he got home. Slowly, the memory came back to her.

"What happened, darling," Stew asked.

"I went to see James. We sat in the bar and talked ... then we went to his apartment. I had a sip ...." Sherri told him about the tribal regalia room and the goblet, and the bottle of Fine Italian Wine. She didn't spare anything. She told him that she was laid on an altar and was ceremonially "sacrificed" to the tribal goddess, who took over my body. Stew started stoking his cock.

"That's hot!" Stew said. He didn't fully believe her. Sherri could see that her husband was aroused. She explained in detail about the discipline, the riding crop, phallus, the pre-cum, and James' enormous cock and how it filled her. He told him how she had one orgasm after another for hours. Stew shot an enormous amount of cum into the air!

"Look at my cunt. It is leaking," she said.

"Yes! I see it," Stew said.

"Clean me Stew, but don't go inside me. " Sherri demanded. Stew got between her legs and licked her cunt and ass. Sherri came.

She went to sleep.

***

Sherri pulled herself out of the pool. The water was cool and made her body tingle. Since her skin illustration was applied her skin was very sensitive to light touch whether it was another person's finger or water.

She picked up a copy of Penthouse magazine and began reading.

"Hello?" It was her cell phone.

"Hi Sherri! It's me!"

"Hi Veronica! How's Jamaica?"

"Beautiful!"

"Where have you been?"

"I have been to the beach and to Clive's room. That's all!"

"Who is Clive?" Sherri asked.

"He's one hunk of a black man from London," Veronica said.

"Is he the one on the beach that you told me about?"

"Yes! We hooked up right away! We massaged one another. He took me back to his room...." Veronica left a lot unsaid, but Sherri had no problem imagining what went on.

"That sounds delicious." Sherri said. "Where's Aldo?" she asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since yesterday," Veronica laughed.

"That would be a real story, if you two never hook up during your honeymoon," Sherri began laughing.

Veronica laughed too.

"I got to meet Clive. Talk to your later...." Veronica hung up.

Sherri rolled a joint and lit up. She inhaled a deep toke and held as long as she could. Then she slowly exhaled through her partially parted lips and nose. Her hand went to her clitoris and began massaging. She wanted desperately to see James again. She took another toke.

It was mid-afternoon when James called....

***

Sherri made up her face with long, dark false eyelashes, dark eyeliner with lines shaped on the edges to give her face a Cleopatra look. Her eyes were a two-tone green and blue. Before putting on her dress, she took a hit of molly.

Her dress was a tight fanny hugging mini skirt with a three-color tribal design. Her low riding skirt and top left plenty of sexy, illustrated midriff showing. She chose translucent lacy-top hose to show off her illustrated legs.

She kissed Stew goodbye, explaining that she was to become a temple *******.
 
The warm Jamaican sun was streaming down on Veronica's voluptuous nude body. She felt Clive's hands rubbing sunscreen over her back as they lay on the beautiful tropical beach.

"Turn over!" he said. She turned, exposing her bare skin on her abdomen, her 36DD's, which didn't sag, and her slick bare mons pubis. Her vaginal area was bleached and her labia extended from her vulva, indicating her high level of sexual excitement. Clive continued to rub sunscreen on her body. His hand went down to her now extended, erect clitoris.

"Oh! Clive, that feels so fucking good," Veronica cooed.

"Does that feel as good as what I gave you last night?" he asked suggestively.

"Oh, yes! Last night was so dreamy! How many times did we cum?" she sighed.

"Many! You are one hot American white woman," he said while his fingers circled her nipples. He squeezed her right nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She moaned and her two-inch long clitoris stood up invitingly. He hand reached for it.

"I'm so glad you took me to that Jamaican club. The music and dancing was so sexy," Veronica said.

Clive continued to massage her clitoris until she came on the beach. A balding male tourist-voyeur couldn't believe his eyes!

"Oh, Clive! Are we the only people on this beach having sex," she said. "Well, I don't care."

She set up and looked at Clive. He was a 210-pound English gentleman in every way except for the black skin.

***

"What do you mean ... a temple *******? You never told me," Stew asked meekly.

"I'm not sure exactly. They have this temple. They put me on a dais..." She said and lit a joint. She didn't tell him about the goblet, the discipline, and the whip.

"Who are 'they'?" Stew asked humbly.

"'They' are the priests of the temple. It's a ceremony. I am the focus of the ceremony to make me the temple whore," Sherri said confidently. She was flouting her newborn sexuality at her meek, sexually aroused white husband.

"How many were there?"

"I'm not sure. I only saw, James. I felt the others," Sherri said. She did not say what she felt, where she felt it, or how many she felt. In truth, "it" was phalluses in her dripping, wet sensual vagina. Sherri lit a joint and inhaled deeply. It only aroused her more.

"What does the temple whore have to do?" Stew asked, as his cock began to get stiff.

"She must sensually serve all the priests of the temple including the high priest," she said dreamily.

Stew was now fully erect. His hand clasped the pathetic white penis and started stroking.

"What do you mean by 'serve'?" Stew asked meekly.

"Sacrifice my body to them," she said exhaling.

Stew began frantically stroking his cock.

"I've got to go," she said and walked to the door without kissing Stew goodbye.

"Are you going to give me a kiss goodbye?" Stew pleaded.

Sherri turned around and blew him a kiss. At that instant, a dribble of pathetic cum oozed out of his cock. He collapsed in a chair.

***

Sherri's hand was trembling when she pressed the doorbell to James' temple-apartment. The wait for the door to open was like an eternity. She gasped when the door open.

A hideous black face painted in white greeted her. It was a masked face of a male with wide lines of white paint over his torso. He wore Kordafan loin cloth of leopard skin, beads, bones, and teeth.

"Is he the temple priest?" Sherri thought. She was confidant. James had prepared her for this moment. She dreamed of the day that she would finally become the temple goddess-whore for James' pleasure. However, that did not blunt the fear that she now felt.

The priest made a gesture for her to come in. She was escorted to the Tribal Regalia Room. James had another name which was unpronounceable to Sherri.

Then she saw him. James was sitting on a throne high on a dais. Two white women were lying at his feet. Another white woman stood to his left. James was holding a long spear. The tip was metallic and shiny. It looked very sharp. The spear-shaft was wooden and covered with tribal designs. It was truly a weapon of war, but in this setting, to Sherri, it was a symbol of authority.

James tapped the end of the spear twice. Six female tribal servants came in. They stood on each side of the stairway leading to the dais. They were nude. They were white and very beautiful. They wore sandals. Henna patterns adorned their feet. Illustrations adorned their legs and thighs. More tattoos covered their abdomen, arms, and shoulders. Their arms were crossed over their bare breasts. Their palms were turned inward displaying the henna designs on the back of their hands. They looked straight ahead and spoke not a word.

James tapped twice more. Four large tribal warriors carrying spears and machetes marched in. They stood beside the altar and turned facing her. Sherri recognized immediately that they possessed huge black cocks. In their semi-erect state they were at least 10-inches long. Sherri gasped!

James tapped twice more. Drums sounded. In danced the tribal shaman-priest. He was tall and thin. He face was covered by a hideous mask of beads, leather, and bones. Only his dark eyes are visible. He danced around her and stopped.

He reached for the familiar bottle of Fine Italian Wine and grey metallic goblet. Pouring it full, she handed it to Sherri and uttered a what sounded like a grunt. Sherri was confused and looked to James who tapped the spear twice. She knew what to do. She took the goblet and took a sip. The shaman-priest grunted again. Sherri drank until the wine-potion was gone.

The room began spinning. Her vision became blurry and distorted. She lost her balance, but someone caught her. She felt very sexually aroused. The shaman began chanting and dancing around her. Her clothing was stripped from her body. Someone put a mask over her head. She could see out. It was cramped, but she could breathe. The dancing continued. She was pushed to join in.

The rhythm was natural to Sherri. She danced and undulated with the shaman in a sensuous wave-like motion. The drums sounded three heavy beats and stopped!

The shaman presented a small vial of red liquid to her lips. Without questioning it, Sherri drank it so fast that part of it ran out the corners of her mouth onto her breasts. For an instant Sherri had a thought that it was *******.

Then a smoldering root was brought forward. The smoke arose to her nostrils. The shaman grunted. Sherri inhaled the smoke. It has an effect on her mind. Her knees grew weak. Someone had to hold her up. She could no longer hold her head up. Someone took her head by the hair and held her up while a goblet was presented her to lips. She had lost her resistance. She swallowed all of it.

Someone threw a powder in the flaming pit in the middle of the room. The light flashed and she got a glimpse of an image in glass container. She blinked and it was her face. A leopard's markings covered her face and shoulders. Her ears were cat ears which were partially hidden by a leopard's mane. She opened her mouth and long fangs appeared.

Sherri attempted to speak! The sound of a leopard's roar filled her ears. She looked down at her hands. They had been replaced by a leopard's claws. She looked down. A leopard's tail curled around her hind legs.

She looked for James. A leopard was sitting on the throne. When she looked, it roared at her.

Arms picked her up and placed her on the rough-hewn wooden altar at the foot of the stairs. They placed her leopard legs beneath her in a crouch. She looked at the James-Leopard and roared. He bounded down from the dais and leaped on to the sacrificial altar. He landed on the altar behind her. Growling and snarling, he climbed on her from behind.

The mighty leopard's penis penetrated her womanhood. Sherri-Leopard began whimpering as her vagina felt the pleasure of the leopard-phallus. It plunged to the depths of her soul and to the pit of her most sensual pool of love. She lost consciousness.

She shook her head and came to her senses. She was on her back, and a priest with a hideous tribal mask was atop her. His phallus had entered her body. She felt her vagina-temple contracting. She accepted that she was the sacrifice. Her reward was pleasure beyond belief! Her body was undulating. She wrapped her legs around the temple priest and began screaming.

"Fuck me! James! Make me your sacrifice!" she screamed.

Priest after priest "sacrificed" her on the altar of pleasure.

***

Sherri slowly came to her senses. She was standing. Her hands were tied between two huge wood-carved black phalluses. The room was dark. The light from a log fireplace caused patterns to dance on the walls. The light played an eerie game with the tribal regalia of hideous faces, weapons of battle, and ******* heads. Sherri's eyes became fixed on the head of a leopard. It's eyes came "alive" in the dancing light.

Her mind flashed back to the leopard in the sacrifice chamber. She started to speak, but the roar of a leopard escaped from her mouth. She cleared her throat and spoke again. This time her voice was clear.

"James? Are you there, master?" she whispered.

The leopard leaped from the wall and approached her as if it was stalking its prey. It rose up on its two back feet. She desperately tried to get away! Sherri blinked. It wasn't a leopard. It was a shaman with a leopard mask. He was holding a whip. She watched his hand go up and come down. Sherri felt the whip come down across her back.

She tried to scream, but a leopard's roar came out of her mouth. Blow after blow came down across her back, buttocks, thighs, and legs. Leopard-Sherri continued to roar with each blow until she collapsed. She was hanging by her bound wrists.

Sherri watched as the leopard-priest reached into the fireplace and took out a red-hot branding iron. He walked around behind her. Sherri felt the searing, burning tool touch her left buttock. She roared as the smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils.

Leopard-woman Sherri was released from the whipping post and placed on the bed with four phalluses. Someone carefully bandaged her burn. She lost consciousness.

***

Sherri was lying on her stomach by the pool. She had not been in the water for two days. A bandage on her left buttock reminded her why. She looked down and turned the page of a magazine featuring tribal art and naked African men in tribal regalia.

Her phone rang. Sherri picked it up. Sherri started to speak, but a leopard's roar came out. She cleared her throat.

"Hello?"

"Hi! It's me, Veronica. What was that?"

"Never mind. Hi sweetie. How's your honeymoon?"

"Oh, it was dreamy, Sherri! Clive and I made out on the beach and then went to a Jamaican club last night."

"How's Aldo?"

"He was better, but I slipped him a ******* to get him out of the way," Veronica said giggling.

"What's Clive like?"

"He's tall and buff. He has an enormous penis. I'm too embarrassed to tell you everything. Hey! Here he comes. I've got to go!" Veronica hung up.

"What's it like for Aldo to spend his entire honeymoon in a bedroom," Sherri thought. She started laughing at the pathetic white boy.

Steward came out. Sherri decided to get him to remove her bandage and examine it.

"Hey baby. Would you remove my bandage?" Sherri cooed.

"Sure." Stewart carefully peeled off the bandage and exposed the brand. It was fully healed. Stew looked at it carefully.

"What does it look like?"

"It's healed. Does it hurt? It's some kind of a design. Perhaps it's a symbol," he said.

Sherri turned through the pages of the tribal art magazine she was holding until she came to a symbol identical to the one on her butt.

She read it carefully and compared the image with her brand. She read it again. "The symbol is Kordafan and means that the woman is a temple whore and the possession of the high priest," she read.

"May I read it," Stew asked meekly.

"Sure go ahead," Sherri said, pushing the book to him. She knew the meaning would send him over the edge.

She watched as Stew carefully read it, glancing up occasionally to compare the symbol with the brand on her buttocks. His lips were moving as he read.

"Oh my gawd, Sherri! You have been branded as a *******!" Stew exclaimed.

"Of course! I told you that was the purpose of the ceremony," she said. Her voice displayed that she was irritated at him. She looked at his pants. He was tenting.

"Put your hand on my mark," Sherri whispered. Stew's hand was shaking as he touched it.

"Take it out and stroke it," she whispered, looking at his penis. Almost robotic, Stew removed his pathetic white penis and began to masturbate until white semen oozed out of his failing manhood.

"Oh! Oh! That felt so good," Stew panted.

"Go wash your hands, Stew," Sherri said. He ran to the door and opened it with his cum-soaked hand, leaving the knob wet. Sherri shook her head, lit up a joint and took a deep toke. After releasing the smoke, she shouted to no one in particular, "Who's going to wash that doorknob!"

***

Stew walked into the bathroom to wash his hands. He glanced in the mirror and noticed leopard hair was growing on his face.

"Did you use my razor this morning," he said to Sherri.

"Yes. I had some hair growing on my paw ... er ... uh ... hand," she said matter of fact. Sherri remembered that she used Stew's razor but did not wash it.

"Will it come off?" Stew said.

Sherri opened her mouth to reply but a loud roar came out.
 
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