Girls in Blue

They didn’t beat around the bush, they came right up to my house. #CFsNM ff/M Domination, and Discipline

2 girls, a blonde, and brunette. I don’t know their names, they wouldn’t tell me, but not little girls. Even through their baggy button up tops, you could tell that they’d started developing figures. So, early teens? Maybe precocious 5th, or 6th graders, but they said my name. My full name first, and last.

“We better go inside where we can talk.” One of them pulled my mail out of the slot by the door, and handed it to me. Mostly bills, but they had my name on them, and address of course.

“What’s this about?”

“We talked to this girl.” The brunette got out a cell phone, “She told us you touched her, and took off her clothes.”

“No, I.” She turned the phone around, and looked up at my hair? Hard to tell, but I shut up when I saw the image.

“So, that’s not you with her sitting on your face?” I had my eyes closed, but I couldn’t tell from the photo who she was. Just from a glance of her hairless puff, pale lips mashed flat around my nose, and the tops of her legs, straddling my head.

“It kinda looks like him.” They held it, and looked at it together, while I tried to think of an excuse, but they had me dead to rights, an they knew it.

“Your wife know you’re molesting tweens in the neighborhood?” Well, that narrowed down who it could be, someone in the neighborhood. 10-12yo, of course. Right between starting to grow up, and still curious about the changes starting to ravage their bodies.

“I’m not married.” I shook my head. “I’m going to get a drink, are either of your thirsty?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a beer.”

“We’re on duty.” The brunette slapped her friend’s arm, and tucked the phone back in her pocket.

In the kitchen, I realized that they were dressed alike. Exactly the same light blue shirts, buttoned up to the collars, navy blue pants, and matching ties. Like a uniform.

“Oh.” I popped the can, and took a sip, but they didn’t follow me into the kitchen. I looked over at the door, to the back yard, but if I ran, they could go straight to the cops. The real cops, when they showed up dressed in a sort of uniform, asking questions like police detectives, so I guessed they were playing some cop game.

Which was weird, but not any weirder than the rest of the situation. Because they looked a little old, to me. For playing cops, and robbers, so maybe they had fantasies of joining the police when they’re a little older, graduating high school, and applying to the police academy.

“Mr.” One of them said my last name.

“What do you want?” I decided to play their little game, “If you wanted to arrest me, you would have already, with the evidence you’ve got.”

They looked at each other, and the blonde giggled, but then she managed to control herself.

“Huh, she also told us that you’d do anything.” They turned back.

“Yeah, anything, even kiss her feet.” That narrowed it down even more. To a little girl, white, from the neighborhood, that wanted to play footsie? 2 can play at this game.

“Of course not, I don’t make her, or anyone do anything they don’t want, so what do you want?”

“Take off your pants.” The brunette got her phone out, “No, turn around, and lift up your shirt.”

“Okay?” I just dropped them, and held up the back of my shirt, while they kept their voices down.

Pic! “Is that a nice one?” I think blondie asked, but only because her brown haired friend was the one with the phone, that wanted me to show her my ass.

“It’s not bad, nice and fat.”

“Yeah, but who like fat asses?”

“Well, you don’t like bony butts, do you?”

“I don’t know, I don’t like any of them at all.” The blonde cleared her throat, and practically yelled. “Now bend over, and spread them.”

“Up against the wall.” They pushed me, and I had to take short steps when my pants fell down around my ankles. then, they started feeling down my back, underneath the back of my shirt. “Hands up on the wall, don’t move. Don’t even breathe.”

“Uh!” One of them, I bet the brunette that liked my butt, rubbed, and squeezed my buttocks, while the other one reached down between my legs to fondle my balls. She giggled again, so I knew it was the blonde. “He shaved!”

“Yeah, she told us that, remember?”

“Well, that doesn’t mean he shaves every day, but they’re nice and smooth. Feel them.”

“No, I’m fine. You like feeling like a little boy?”

“No, I just. It’s summer, so I hate feeling sweaty uh!”

“Relax.” The brunette felt up my butt crack, and spread my cheeks with her fingers, then felt inside with her other hand. “You shave your butt, too?”

“Huh,” I let my head down, and shook it. “I get waxed.”

The blonde giggled, “Brazilian? Where do you go, and how much does it cost?”

“No, they’re Asian. Vietnamese, or maybe Korean. I don’t know.”

“They did a good job. Where?”

“Uh!” Her grip tightened on my nut sack. “It’s called the Cutting Edge.” Not too hard, but threatening to crush them, and if they had any nails, I wasn’t paying attention to notice.

“Where is it?”

“Washington, and 23rd, over by the University, huh!” She let go, and i just panted. “Huh!” My heart beating out of control, I thought I was going to have a heart attack, but then again, I thought she might crush them, if I didn’t tell her.

“Maybe we should go.”

“Yeah, maybe if it’s not too expensive, but doesn’t it hurt?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been waxed back there, you?”

“No, of course not, but they probably do other stuff, they’re a salon, and spa.”

“Over by cappuchino’s?”

“Uh?” She swatted my ass.

“I asked you a question!”

“Uh yeah. I think I saw a place around there. A Cappuchino bar, and cafe?”

“Yeah, Cafe’ Cappuchino.” They went back to talking to each other. “Maybe we can go get brunch, and make a day of it.” they’d probably be busy, on a sunday morning, but either these weren’t church girls, or they skipped church for this.

“Yeah, a spa day. They don’t look too expensive.” I heard tapping, on plastic, and risked looking back, to see them looking at the phone. The brunette’s phone, with the evidence on it.

I think they might be rich girls, with their father’s credit cards, if they’re talking about brunch, and a spa day. “You think they give happy endings there?” The Brunette looked up, and straightened her face.

“Eyes front.” She grabbed the back of my head. “So, they give happy endings there?”

“I don’t know?” But after all that ignoring me, it was almost a relief getting their attention back, and it was pretty kinky.

“Of course not. Too old for you?”

“No?”

“Well, if you think about it,” the blonde told her, “Little oriental ladies look kinda young, if they’re not all wrinkly. Is that it, sicko?”

“No?”

“You like asian chicks because they look like little girls?”

“They have men that work there too, you know.” I have a regular appointment with Khanthalack.

“Yeah, I bet he likes little girls, because they make his little dick look big.”

“Uh!” I shook my head. “It’s not that little. Maybe you just think that, from watching porn, and middle school boys telling you they’ve got 8 inchers, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of, being average.”

Then, they pulled my shirt, and pushed me back. I tripped over my pants, and fell down, but they let me go, and looked down at me. Shaking their heads, disappointed, and for some reason, that made my erection start to go soft.

“Take it off, take it all off.” The blonde didn’t even look, and turned to her brunette friend. “What should we do with him?”

“Fuck him?”

“No, that’s just rewarding bad behavior. What should we do to punish him?”

“Spank him?” Finally, it was the brunette’s chance to giggle excitedly.

“I have a better idea.” The blonde put her shoe up, on my chest. A high heeled shoe, open toed, with gold metallic nail polish. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”

I just got my clothes off, but they went over to the corner, talked and giggled while I put them back on. Then, they helped me up, and pushed me over to the door.

“You got your wallet?” The brunette checked my pockets, groped, and fondled me, then felt my keys. “Good, you’re driving.” They let go of me on the porch, and I took a deep breath, of fresh air.

I felt free, just being outside, dressed without their hands on me, but one of them pushed my shoulder.

“Get in, you’re driving.”

“Where?” They got in the back, where they could talk.

“Cappuchino’s first?”

“Then the spa. They do Shiatzu massage.”

“With the feet?” I swallowed, remembering the blonde’s foot, the open toed high heeled pump, and the pink nail polish on her perfect toes, but I pulled out. Wondering what kind of nail polish the brunette wore.

“No, that’s Ashiatsu. Maybe they’re Japanese?”

“You don’t have to be Japanese to learn Shiatzu massage, you know that little Jeremy?”

“Uh huh?”

“He takes Tae Kwon Do, and he’s not Japanese.”

“That’s Korean.”

“Well,” she giggled, “I babysat him once.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s a bad boy. A really bad boy.”

“What did he do?”

“You know, the usual. Trying to look up my skirt, or down my top. Listening to me pee through the bathroom door, and playing with his little pecker.”

“Did you spank him?”

“Yeah, and he got a boner too. But you know, he’s like 10. Maybe, so it was little.”

“And hairless, like sicko psycho child molester up there.”

“Yeah, but even tinier. Like this big.”

…

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