Glad you could make it. Expect to see me later tonight. Have dinner and then wear this dress down to conference room four at nine PM. Wear nothing under it, except shoes. Come-fuck-me pumps preferred. And stockings if you want, but no pantyhose. Talk to no one while wearing this.

This was exciting. The text had come in on my new secret cell phone, which was the first item in the package that I had received when I checked in. It was in a small box within the big box and it was labeled 'Open First' in Kyra's messy scrawl. The message had come from Mrs. Cardinal, the only entry in the phone's contact list.

This journey had started when I received an email at work from my best friend Kyra, aka Mrs. Cardinal. I hadn't heard a thing from her, except for non-secure chit-chat in my regular email account in the past two months, not since just after the wild four day 'vacation' that culminated in my cheating husband's surrender to the demands I had made on him. I had called to give her the good news, saying only that our plans were successful, and receiving her congratulations .

Surrender is not really the right word, of course. It was a negotiation, but I was able to drive a much harder bargain as a result of my association with the Last Wives Club that Kyra had recruited me into. Our marriage was saved, but it took a new form. It was a marriage of convenience, a sham, a partnership in a fraud designed to look like a traditional marriage.

We both had the freedom to have sex with others, but only if we minimized the risk of scandal to protect our professional careers. The was the most difficult concession for me, made in recognition that it would be better for my future, and for my childrens', to stay together.We had resumed having sex with each other, but it wasn't very satisfying. It was no worse than before, but I was less emotionally connected to him. He was not happy about all the secrecy of my four day absence. He resented that I had only communicated with our 12 year old daughter during that time.

He claimed that he was worried about me, but I thought he was worried about what I might be doing with some other man as a result of discovering his infidelity. I had come back with a shaved beaver, new sexy lingerie, a younger-looking, more vibrant face and body, and a whole new attitude of confidence and purpose. I didn't tell him a thing about where I went or what I did. I wanted him to think that I had been wined, dined, and well fucked by a lover, which was true of course, but he would never in a million years have suspected that it was a lesbian affair.

The benefits from the club, other than the impressive negotiation package, were a little slow in coming. I had received a new secure email address in the name of Mrs. Catherine White. I checked it daily, sometimes several times daily, curious and hoping for word from the club. There had been no requests for assistance from me, or other communications sent, other than a welcome message from the ISP with the domain name of uwa.org. Then one morning, there was a message from Mrs. Cardinal, telling me that I would be told that day, by my boss, about a short work-related trip, and that I was to pretend that I wasn't interested, but I should agree to take it.

Several hours later, my boss called me into his office and informed me that I would be traveling to a roundtable conference in Des Moines. It was about the glass ceiling for women in engineering careers. I was an officer in the local chapter of the Society of Women Engineers, so the story was plausible. He wasn't happy with the disruption to my work, and I made a token attempt to be excused from the trip, but he informed me that my presence was 'requested' by top level management, and that meant that I was going or there would be Hell to pay on my annual appraisal. Of course, I agreed to go.

This was my first sign of string pulling in my own career. My husband had already received a plum, career-changing assignment, since my return from the spa trip, that I suspected was their first intervention in his career. Those may seem like small things, but they are the kind of profile boosters that get noticed in corporate careers.

After dinner, I stripped and then pulled on the 'dress', which was actually a black, full length, and full coverage burqa, complete with a mesh viewport. One of my brothers had been assigned to the Middle East and had told me about the 'BMOs', the unofficial US soldier's term for the women seen on the streets. It was short for 'black moving objects'. I was about to get my first experience as a BMO in public. There was a pocket accessible from outside and another from inside. I could easily pull my arms inside, so I put my room key in the inner pocket. I had the right shoes and a pair of sexy black fishnet hold-up stockings with me, and I didn't pass up the opportunity to add those sexy touches. I really had no idea what the night had in store for me, but I wanted to be prepared.

I looked at myself in the full length mirror and saw that my identity was completely concealed. It felt very strange, moving around without any under clothing beneath the loose black tent, as if I was naked, but also invisible. When the time came, I left the security of my room with trepidation, walked down the hall, and entered the elevator. Other people got in and looked at me with suspicion. One woman even stepped back out before the doors closed. There was no way they could know that there was a blond, fair-skinned, blue-eyed, descendant of French Catholic fur trappers behind the veil.

As I approached the conference room I saw other, similarly dressed women approaching. We all went silently inside and remained silent. At precisely nine PM, there were twenty-one women inside. One of them closed the door and then said, "Please stand in a circle." We shuffled around until we managed this.

"New sisters, we are dressed this way tonight for two reasons; obviously we need to conceal our identities, but also, these garments serve as a reminder that we are sisters to women who must always wear these in public. Through our goals, we may one day change that, so that their daughters and sons will live in peace with ours." Retracting her hand into her dress, she pulled out a stack of cards. She peeled a label from a tan card and said, "Mrs. Brown, please step forward."

When one of the women stepped forward, another woman left the circle and stepped behind her.

"Who sponsors Mrs. Brown?"

The woman who had stepped behind Mrs. Brown said, "Mrs. Wren."

"Thank you Mrs. Wren." She gave the tan card to Mrs. Brown. "Welcome, sister."

Mrs. Brown said, "Thank you."

"Please, no talking. A nod of the head is sufficient. It's for your own protection."

"Sorry, oops." Some of the other women laughed, fortunately they included the mistress of ceremonies and Mrs. Wren. It was comforting to learn that the occasion was formal, but not overly solemn.

The ceremony continued. I received a blue card. It felt good to have Mrs. Cardinal, my friend Kyra, at my back. Ten women received cards that night, witnessed by ten sponsors. Not all of the inductees were named after colors, and not all of the sponsors were named after birds, but all of the names seemed likely as fake as mine and Kyra's.

After the last inductee was welcomed, the mistress of ceremonies said, "Welcome sisters, to the United Women's Alliance. That is one of our names and you will see it, and our logo, on some of the communications you receive. Over the next day, some of you will openly participate in the conferences, along with many other women, most of whom are not sisters. If you place a face to a name that you have heard here tonight, or otherwise determine that you've met someone who was here tonight, please respect their privacy. This concludes our induction ceremony. Good night sisters."

We each left with our sponsors. I went with Kyra to her room. It was much nicer than mine, and I was only partly surprised to find that my luggage and clothing had been moved there. As soon as we were safely inside the door, I immediately stripped off my dress. I guess that I surprised Kyra when I didn't immediately put something else on. Instead, I pulled hers off and found that she was also wearing nothing under it. She laughed as I hugged and kissed her.

"Were all those women naked under their dresses?"

"Oh, I doubt it. This sexual thing between us is probably not very typical of our sisters. Adding that to your induction is just something I did for you, because I thought it might thrill you." She unceremoniously dipped a finger into my slit and said, "Hmmmmm. Looks like I guessed correctly."

I knew that I was wet. The whole surreal event was a turn-on for me, especially after I learned that Kyra was there. "Well, thanks for that. Yes, it was kind of spooky wearing that. People in the elevator looked so suspicious, like maybe they thought I had a bomb vest underneath, instead of just bare boobs, a bare ass, and a shaved beaver."

"Speaking of shaved pussies, did you freak your husband out?"

"Oh, yeah. He doesn't know what to think now, and I like that. All that happened has definitely changed our dynamic."

"Wait until he sees you after you've had the perfect lover."

"Oh? Did you bring it?"

"Of course I did. I've been fantasizing about fucking you with it since, well, since I bought it really."

She opened her bag and handed her fake cock to me. At first, I didn't really understand what I was seeing. It had shiny metal curved parts with a big rubber dong attached at one end. I oriented the dong properly, and then it dawned on me what I was seeing. At the back end was a thin upturned rod with a much larger round bulb on the end. A little further forward was a thicker curved rod that was only slightly bigger at the end.

I pointed to the bulb at the back and said, "This one goes in your...."

"Up my ass, yes. I knew it wouldn't take you long to figure that out."

"And the other one goes in your pussy, and the thin strap goes around your waist to hold it up. That's clever. Where the hell did you get something like that?"

"One of our sisters makes them.

She does custom work, completely discreet. You can even pay with your new blue card, Mrs. White."

That's when I really focused on the business end of her toy. "This is huge! I'm not sure if I can handle that much."

"Aw, what's the use of having a pussy, if you don't give it a good stretching now and then? This is about the size of Benedict. I take it your husband doesn't quite measure up?"

"Well, I've never had any complaints, but then I've only had the one. He's quite a bit smaller."

"Don't worry, Cath. I'll give it to you slowly, and I won't force it."

"I can't believe you used it on Benedict. How did you get him to agree to it?"

"Well, I made it a reciprocal condition, when he tried to make fucking my ass a part of our bargain. It took some convincing, but once he understood how much I could ruin him financially anyway, I managed. He didn't know it as it happened, but I recorded the event on video and then used it to hold him to our agreement, later. Poor guy. He didn't realize he was starring as the bitch in a porno vid. Now I get his cooperation much more quickly, although I've almost pushed him to the brink of throwing it all away, at least once or twice. But enough about him."

"Okay, how do we do this?"

"It would be great if you would help me strap it on. Put the butt end in my pussy to make it slick first, then in my back door. The rest is easy."

"I've never put anything in a butthole, except for rectal thermometers. I guess I qualify as sexually inexperienced."

"We can cure that. There are more toys where this came from." Kyra laid back on the bed in the fur check position, with her knees pulled back on either side of her chin. It would be hard to imagine more access to her most intimate parts. I slipped the large ball on the end of the butt post into her pussy, thoroughly coating it with her juices. I held it against her asshole and gently pushed.

"Harder, Cath."

"It looks too big, Ky."

"I'll stretch. It's been in there before."

"Okay, you asked for it." I pushed hard and it went in. Her butt hole closed behind it to clamp down tightly on the pencil thick stem of the post.

"Oooph. That's it. Now the other post. Ahhh, good."

The second post had gone in much easier. Kyra put her legs down and stood up from the bed, holding the cock so that it wouldn't fall out of her. "Now fasten the strap behind me, nice and tight. Up a little higher. That's good."

When she turned around, the sight was impressive. She had a long, thick, stiff cock jutting from her body at a realistic position and angle.

"Wow, Kyra."

"There's one more thing, I gotta have dingle berries." She clipped two steel balls, connected to each other by a short chain, to a tiny ring at the base of the dong. A couple of hip thrusts had them swinging and making a clacking sound. "And voila! The perfect lover."

Something about seeing this large cock just drew me to it. I felt these feelings that I never really felt with my husband. I wanted to touch it, and to kiss it, and just generally to rub my body against it. I had felt such feelings with my husband, but this was different. It didn't have all the emotional baggage of my husband attached. "It's beautiful, Ky. Now what do we do with it?"

"You know, that's funny, because I had all these fantasies about what I would do with you, but now that I have it on, I feel a sense of responsibility or something. I want to please you with it, but I don't know what pleases you. This must be what guys feel. What do you like to do with a cock?"

"Kyra, you know that I've only ever been with my husband. It's never been a case of what I want to do with it. He's always been kind of... I guess conventional is the word."

"You mean like vanilla? Pleasant but no surprises? No imagination?"

"Well some imagination, but... he's romantic, just not... I liked it when you were a little bit um, forceful our first time. He's not like that. Sometimes I wish he would just take me and fuck me, you know? Like let out the animal inside him a little bit."

"I think I know what you mean, Cath. You want to let your inner slut out, and to do that he has to be a little bit of a brute. Your husband looks like he could be that way, a big strong man."

"But he's restrained by something. He always gets hard, but I've sometimes thought that he just wasn't that interested in me. Maybe that's why he cheated on me."

"Cath, he probably just doesn't know any better. He's always seemed so polite and respectful to me, and to every woman I've ever seen him talk to. I like that about him. Maybe it's his Catholic upbringing. With Benedict, I always feel like I have to earn his respect and I'm at a disadvantage because I'm weaker and designed to be on the receiving end of a cock. That was kind of a turn on at first, because I like to get fucked hard, but it got old."

"Well, I've never had that. It might be fun."

"Okay, a little forceful then. On your knees bitch. My cock isn't gonna suck itself."

Those words sent a little thrill through me. I dropped to my knees and was staring at her rubber cock, straight at the end of it. I put one hand on it, then I took it into my mouth. I remembered her saying that she had fucked Benedict in the ass with it, and that image in my mind gave me a little jolt of oh-god-what-am-I-doing? that made me feel wanton. I think I surprised Kyra by not acting unwilling, but I was enjoying myself and making pleasant little 'mmmm' sounds, so she kept it up.

"Yeah, that's it. Suck it baby. That's good. Now, lick my balls."

I sucked each, and then both, of the steel balls into my mouth and worked the shaft so that the base of it rubbed around her clit. Since I was clearly getting into it, she kept going.

"You're a good little cocksucker. You really want this cock, don't you, whore."

"Mmmm-hmmmmm," I nodded as I looked into her eyes, stroked the shaft, and licked the tip.

"I knew you did. On the bed you little whore."

I climbed onto the bed and started to roll onto my back.

"Oh no, you little slut. On your hands and knees like a dog. I'm going to fuck you like the bitch-in-heat you obviously are."

This was unexpected. My husband often wanted to fuck me doggie style, but after a few attempts, I wouldn't do it any more. With each attempt, he came in less than two minutes. One of those times, he came in less than thirty seconds. I liked the feeling of the position, but I hated the results with him. Of course, coming too soon wasn't going to be a problem with Kyra, and there was none of the memory of past failures that made me doubt it would be fun. I knelt on the edge of the bed and Kyra stood behind me on the floor. I had to spread my legs pretty wide to get my hole low enough so she wouldn't have to stand on her tip toes.

"Oh god, look at that cunt. It looks like it's begging me to stuff my cock in." She pushed the tip against my pussy and I clenched up. The angle just wasn't right. I looked sideways into the mirror above the dresser and saw that she was holding near the tip of the cock with one hand. She pushed down in the middle of my back with the other hand and said, "Push that cunt out at me you little bitch."

I grunted a little as I backed onto the head and stretched to accommodate it. My pussy was so wet that it really wasn't difficult, but Kyra wasn't pushing more in. I tried backing up further, but Kyra matched me so that I had only about a third of it inside me.

"More please, Ky."

"What's that, you slut? You want more cock? You want me to fuck you? Beg for it."

"Please fuck me, Kyra."

"You'll have to do better than that, cunt."

Kyra knew that I didn't like being called a 'cunt'. A cunt was something women have, not something women are. But right at that time, it was making me even more desperate for cock. "God, Ky, you're killing me here. Please fuck me. Please shove that big cock into my cunt."

"Let me see you frig your clit, first."

She didn't have to tell me twice. I was embarrassed about playing with myself in front of someone, but everything we were doing was embarrassing and that was only making me even more aroused. I started to rub my clit, and Kyra eased the cock further into me. When I felt her thighs contact mine, I said, "Argh, faster!"

"God, Cath. This is so sexy. Watching your pussy stretch for my cock is incredible." She put her hands on my hips and started thrusting faster and faster, pulling the dildo almost all the way out and then smacking into my ass with her hips.

"Ah, harder, Ky. I'm close."

She smacked into me harder and faster. "Take that, you fuckin' slut."

My cunt was getting the best fuck I've ever had, and my fingers on my clit were driving me to the edge, but Kyra was clearly enjoying it, too.

"I'm gonna come, Ky."

"Anh, anh, I'm close, too, slut. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Anh!"

Kyra's thrusts got a little erratic as she came, but I was so close it didn't matter. I came hard. Kyra collapsed onto my back, and I bore her weight and mine down onto the bed as my cunt squeezed her rubber dong over and over, until my spasms slowly subsided.

"Fuck, Cath. That was awesome."

"Shit, Kyra. I can't believe how well you fucked me. You woke something up with all that talk. I've never heard anything like that from my husband. It's just not like him."

"You liked that? That's what having sex with Benedict is like. In public, he has to behave. He knows I'll tear him a new asshole, if he treats me with disrespect outside the bedroom. But inside, he can be as raunchy as he wants. It's not working as well as it used to, for me, but when you said a little forceful, I had plenty of material to work with."

"I'm a little embarrassed about reacting so positively to it. It's so sexist."

"Well, we can't help what turns us on, Cath, any more than men can." She slowly withdrew her cock from me. "Maybe tomorrow night, you can wear this rig and see how fun it is."

"Sounds good. I'm going to sleep well tonight. I'm warning you now, I'll probably snore. That was some good fucking."