Favor Wanted: I need a man to peg. Send me your husband. I'll send him back a little stretched. Seattle area Sept 17. $200. Garter, panties, and stockings, +$50. Chastity cage, + $25.

"Your girl is innovating, Cath."

"Yup. Wil makes a little side money now servicing sisters who travel. But Mindy's job is carrying her to Seattle a lot. She gets kind of aggressive when she's on her period, so she dresses like a man and..."

"Two hundred dollars seems a little cheap."

"I guess many sisters don't want to believe that their husband could be worth more as a gift than any woman is, so they accept less for him. Mindy says it helps keep the men in their place. But I'm seeing more ads like hers, little brothers offered or wanted. I'm even thinking of renting a stud myself."

"You, Cath?"

"We are getting older, Ky, and not many sisters are looking to send me as a gift. And it would be worth something to get just what I want when I'm on the road for my day job. I have a lot of business travel coming up soon, and when it isn't to Chicago or Denver, it's either toys or find a stud. Gabe's grooming me for the next management slot, so I'm visiting a lot of podunk towns. He's making noises about retiring when I can take the helm in a few years."

"He won't be retiring. He'll be jumping ship. We need him in a DOW 30."

"Wow! That will be quite a leap."

"Two to three years."

"That will work out well for me. I don't really see myself helping the sisterhood much without being in my job. And with Dan and me both in CEO slots by the time the twins are in college, there's bound to be some opportunity for the sisterhood to gain more from us."

"Looks like Bethany's on her way to the altar."

"Yup, she's in seventh heaven. What will we do with her when she's got a red card?"

"Same as the rest of us, move her towards emeritus status. She already has the full time bodyguard. She's overseeing all three local black teams, but they're functioning well with the leaders she trained. There's new blood in the pipeline for all of us. Well, say hi to Lini for me."

"Will do."

It feels good to be facing semi-retirement. Dan has lost interest in training the new inductees. Trying to keep up with young recruits took its toll on him. And he's traveling on business more often. Keri and Wil have helped Barbie tremendously with the influx of new recruits. Keri takes Wil's big cock up her ass with no trouble, so Keri gets to peg Wil in class and Mindy pegs strangers when she travels. It didn't take her long to start building up the NQA money and she doesn't seem to have a problem with spending it on subservient men.

I get a text just after I finish talking with Kyra. A text from anyone else but her usually means trouble.

My heart leaps when I see the contact's name. Then it plummets when I read the message. *Desperate for Cate. Please help. 5 PM*

It has been quite a while since I got a text from Gabe, my only other regular male lover, besides my husband. So long that I really can't call him a regular lover any more. It's not that we broke it off. We're both just very busy people. It would be great if his text implied a desire for sex, but he wouldn't say, 'Desperate for Cate' in order to arrange a sexual tryst. He calls me Catherine, because as my boss's boss it's safer to call me Catherine or Ms. Geroux, to not seem too unacceptably familiar with me. The cynics would suggest that he's positioning me for the CEO slot because I've had an ongoing sexual relationship with him for several years. But it's been almost a year since I've enjoyed his big cock, and only a month since I've received his report to the sisterhood and conveyed our desires to him. He's happy with the wife we found him and the children she has borne for him. I believe he even loves her now and I'm sure it's mutual.

No, his text is not a booty call, despite how welcome that would be right now. Desperate means desperate, and Cate means he needs Cate Blanc and the sisterhood to come through for him, which, considering the investment we have in his company, is a request we will move mountains just to hear. But I don't need to move any mountains. I just need to meet him at five o'clock in the safe house that I need to call Bethany to arrange. I send the text, she sends the address, I text the address to him. The key is passed to Marta, who is waiting for me when I arrive at 4:55. She opens the door for him when he arrives at five so that he and I are not seen together.

Considering that he pays half her salary, you might think he would be offended by the pat down that she gives him, but he seems to enjoy it. She probably wouldn't insist, but when he heard that I was targeted by one of the caveman groups, he insisted on proper security protocols for all private meetings with men and when she did it the first time, she smiled and said, "You're a man, aren't you boss, I mean Sir? You feel like one. " They've had a friendly-aggressive relationship ever since. Marta thinks he's a great guy.

After the how-are-yous are exchanged, Gabe gets down to business.

"I have a sexual harassment complaint filed by a male manager against a female engineer outside his chain of command in Saint Paul. Both of them are A-list employees, marked for promotion and possible movement here to Columbus. After the initial complaint, both have lawyered up. I don't know who to defend. I know it looks terrible if we don't defend the one who files the complaint, but I also know there's still a double standard, it looks terrible if we don't defend the woman."

I bristle at the double-standard remark, but I remember that my own husband was targeted by a 'homewrecker' who would have happily ruined his career. She deserved no defense from me.

"So you want us to...?" I deliberately leave the question hanging.

"Get around the lawyers. Create peace and harmony. I've seen the kinds of solutions lawyers produce. They're expensive and they can be very bad PR, and it always involves losing one or both of the employees. We immediately counseled both to not speak to coworkers about the matter. It looks like we've got it contained, for now. Whatever happened, it happened discreetly."

"Is recruitment off the table."

"Catherine, we both know you can't promise that."

"Perhaps, but you're an ally. Your opinion carries some weight."

"Well, recruitment might be just the kind of solution we need. But this is one of the few times I think I should be blindsided by events. If you can make the charges go away with a claim of misunderstanding, that would be pleasant news to receive through HR channels. I don't want to look like I had a hand in making it happen."

"Is a transfer for either of them imminent?"

"No, and I'm afraid if we try that, it could fuel any rumors. It would be better if they can keep working in situ."

It seems like a tall order, but I can get started with what I have, their names and locations.

"You have my word, Sir. We will look for a mutually beneficial solution."

"Thanks, Catherine. Take the time you need. Spend the right amount."

"What could it cost you if it goes to the lawyers?"

"Hundreds of thousands of dollars. More would be more likely than less."

"We'll make it less if that's possible."

Now that the business is out of the way, I ask Marta to step outside so we can discuss business of a more private nature. Gabe asks how my kids and husband are doing and I ask about his wife and kids. We're just two parents catching up and that's good. I've left the option of sex open, but I don't dangle any bait and he doesn't either. He excuses himself and our goodbye kiss is warm enough to make me rethink about dangling bait. There's still passion in our tongues and I can feel his cock stiffen against my leg, but his schedule takes him away from me.

I hear Marta wish him a good night as his driver starts his car. I'm already on the phone to Kyra. Quickly assessing the desirability of recruiting is her specialty but I'll also get insights into how to approach the two parties. I call Dan as I'm on my way to the airport and apologize for the inconvenience. The jet is thirty minutes out when I arrive at the general aviation terminal, but it gives me time to read the preliminary analysis from Kyra's recruitment team.

I decide to hear the woman's story first. Kyra has not green-lighted her recruitment. Terri has no kids. But Kyra authorizes me to use our resources to pursue the matter. Unfortunately, Terri stonewalls me when I call out of the blue from the plane with a promise of confidentiality.

I contact Claire and she sics her cybersleuths on Terri and her husband Kevin. Fortunately, we have a sister who works with their cable internet provider and, as I'm flying over Indiana, Claire calls back. "Bingo! We've got leverage. Someone in the house is looking at this website as we speak." The URL arrives in an email and the link takes me to a Tumblr blog page under a username of neglectedwife90.

"It looks like it's her site, Cate. I suppose it could be him pretending to be her, but my spidey sense is tingling. She's lonely and stressed by the allegations, so she's porn surfing. She just reblogged a photo of a woman with three men. They're um, filling her quite full. There's only one computer currently on the Internet from their house and he just got texted the score of a hockey game. His cell phone is miles away."

I see the photo that neglectedwife reblogged. "Got an email address for her?"

"Comin' atcha."

"What do you think her response would be if I email her own Tumblr addy to her."

"She could shit a brick. It doesn't mean she'll contact you. She's reblogging other people's content. There's no pics of her. I'll call you if I dig up anything dirtier."

"Can it get any dirtier than a triple penetration?"

"You would be surprised."

I think for a minute about my own Tumblr blog and about the erotic stories I've published elsewhere. I need a way to make her want to listen to me. I need to show her that I have the resources to do her good or harm, carrot or stick. Using a burner email account, I send an email with three URLs to her, her own Tumblr blog, my Tumblr blog, and the link to the first Last Wives Club story. Then I sit back and do my best to enjoy my inflight dinner as Marta snores softly in preparation for her duties upon landing, which consist of driving the rental car that will be waiting at the general aviation terminal for us and keeping me safe.

Twenty minutes before landing, I get an email from neglectedwife90. It asks, "Who are you?"

I reply with, "The woman who called earlier and the author of the stories."

"What do you want?"

"A private conversation at a private woman's club."

"Why?"

"We have an interest in salvaging your career."

The pause between messages is much longer this time.

"Who sent you?"

Many of the photos she has reblogged are of multiple men with one woman. Many of the men are dressed in suits. I conclude that she has a thing for men with power and influence. I could answer her question with 'the sisterhood' or 'the Last Wives Club', but I remember wanting Dan to think that a rich man had come to my aid when he cheated on me. So I reply with, "An influential brother who cares". She has no sibling brothers, and I assume that she won't won't assume either monks or black men would be taking an interest in her troubles. But I'm hoping that she will get a warm and fuzzy from the idea that a White Knight has sent us.

"Where and when?"

"Anything wrong with tonight at eleven PM?" I include the address of the local Sapphire Club and instruct her to ask at the door for Catherine White.

"This has to be a joke."

"I could show up in front of your house in a chauffeured limo in thirty minutes. Your neighbors could see that and it could become awkward for you."

The plane lands before I get an answer.

"I'm bringing a friend."

"Female only. Dress elegantly. She can stay in sight, but not hear the conversation, and you will swear to keep it confidential."

"Accepted."

Marta and I check into our hotel and dress for the meeting. For the first time since she was assigned to me, Beth's travel people have booked us to share the same room. It doesn't bother me, but Marta is normally very secretive. She has to have access to me that doesn't involve hallways and keycards, so normally we have adjoining rooms and leave the door between them unlocked. I'm curious to see how she'll respond.

She mysteriously hides in the bathroom to change into an elegantly tailored chauffeur's uniform. Her GO trunk must have some fascinating stuff in it. I dress in a timeless deep red silk dress.

The Minneapolis Sapphire Club is on a par with our club in Columbus. I pour myself a Talisker and sit with Marta in a booth. She's drinking Vernor's, a sweet ginger soft drink. She won't drink alcohol while on duty, or off duty. I don't know how Bethany finds these warrior women. I sometimes liken them to ninjas because of her black team's tactical outfits, but they are not assassins, at least not that I know of.

Two women are shown to our table. One is wearing a blue evening gown. Perfectly suitable for the house. The other is Terri who is not dressed very elegantly. She's wearing an overly long skirt and an ill-fitting top, but she appears to be about five months pregnant. This changes everything. She is eligible for recruitment but she has a sexual harassment complaint against her.

The woman in the evening gown speaks first as Marta is getting up from the table.

"I wasn't expecting the Green Hornet and Kato." Of course Marta and I are wearing masks. If we salvage Terri's career, she could see me in the future in some corporate capacity. I politely ignore the woman's remark and invite Terri to sit. Marta politely invites the other woman to join her at the bar.

"Just so's you know, I'm not a lesbian. Neither is Terri."

"Allowing these women to have a private conversation doesn't require either of you to be a lesbian." Marta somehow manages to convey a message of 'I will fuck you up if you don't give them privacy.' Her words have the desired effect and the woman is soon seated on a barstool next to her.

"Please forgive my friend. She can be a bit abrasive. She's my excuse for leaving the house so late. I left a note for my husband, telling him I was with her. And please forgive my clothing. Elegant and maternity don't exactly go together. At least not out here in the sticks."

Minneapolis is not exactly the sticks and elegant maternity wear can be bought online, but not on short notice, and I well know that it could be considered frivolous to a young, practical-minded engineer. I am impressed with her so far.

"Think nothing of either, Terri. We all have friends like her. They can be useful. This club is not a lesbian club. Think of it as a safe place for women to meet for any reason. The membership is upscale and therefore we observe the courtesy of a dress code, but we understand about the limits of maternity. May I offer you a drink? We have soft drinks and juices."

"Is that Talisker in your glass?"

"Yes it is. But you couldn't possibly have read that far in the stories."

"May I smell it."

I offer it to her and I see Marta go on alert. We are both watching to make sure nothing falls into my glass. The other woman had made herself a large margarita. Terri smells the single malt and hands it back to me. She looks at her friend and nods and I see her friend smile. "Smokey. Like she said it would be. She's read all of your stories. I've only just read a few, but I intend to read more. Now that I've verified you are you, I assume you want to hear about Oliver."

"Yes, but first things first. Look me in the eyes, please. Do you swear, on anything important to you, to keep our conversation confidential?"

"Oh, you were serious. Yes, I do, on my baby's life." She self-consciously puts her hand on her belly.

"Thank you. I want to hear about your friend. Does she work with you?"

"No. I went to high school and college with her. And she doesn't know about this bogus charge. She doesn't even know about my affair with Oliver. She's like you say, useful, when I need a boisterous, blundering, bull-in-a-china-shop clown to help me stop being so serious. Please don't get me wrong. She's really a good friend, but I've learned that her mouth speaks before her brain tells it what to say. That's why I keep secrets from her."

The wisdom of bringing her here seems absent, but I nod as if I'm satisfied.

"Okay, so long story short, Oliver and I had an ongoing affair. We just seem to be good for each other. My husband barely notices me. You may have gathered that from my username on Tumblr. Oliver is a great guy. His wife found out about us and made him file the harassment charge. She threatened to ruin both of our careers. In cases like these, the first one to charge seems more credible. She wants me fired or transferred out. When he told me about this, he could barely look at me. He's miserable because of it. I tried to hug him and I rubbed his... crotch. He's got something solid on his... package."

I quickly pull up an image of a plastic chastity cage on my tablet and ask if it could possibly be something similar.

"It could. He pulled away pretty quickly, but it felt more like wire."

I pull up an image of a steel wire cock cage and she nods her head. "Closer."

So Marianne is self-medicating, trying to cure her husband's infidelity by control. And Terri felt neglected and found Oliver. I have to try very hard not to judge on these first impressions. Terri seems polite and smart, but I haven't met Kevin and can't say he didn't deserve to have a cheating wife. I'm conscious of the potential for double standards, but all that matters to us is whether we want them together and whether we can hold them together, especially if the baby turns out to be Oliver's. I'll have to boot this back to Kyra and see what I can do about Marianne.

"We normally recruit women and we normally hold onto cheating men by opening their marriage. We don't normally associate with women who cheat. Could Kevin be the father?"

"It's possible. I'm not quite sure who the father is. I don't want to risk amniocentesis. Our marriage isn't completely sexless. Kevin was quite a stud for the first few years of our marriage, but he's been a dud for the past two."

"Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"Well, he's not very big...", she holds her fingers apart to indicate a short cock length, "... but that doesn't really matter to me. He's good with...", she blushes as she continues, "...you know, his tongue. But we were trying to get pregnant for like, four years, and not succeeding. So he just kind of gave up. I think he masturbates when I'm not around. And whenever I get frisky, he usually just offers his tongue. But I got so horny after the first time with Oliver that I... well, either could be the father. But nobody else. Oliver's a much better lover."

She added that last for a reason. "Please bear with me, your pregnancy changes things."

I text the news of her pregnancy to Kyra. And receive a call from Claire. "Are you with, Terri?"

"Yes."

"Good I see your cell phone in the Sapphire Club. Her husband is online right now and you won't believe his Tumblr site. We've got him if we want him." I read the URL, recoil from it, and tell myself that I will look at it later. I know what it is likely to contain.

"Terri, have you ever noticed your clothes unexpectedly mussed up or your panties stretched out, or a locked trunk that he makes excuses about?"

She gets a guilty look on her face. "I didn't want to mention that. I have my suspicions about him being a cross dresser."

"I'm afraid it's probably worse than that, or better, depending on how you look at it. I can't make you any promises. We may want you as a member. We may be able to save your job even if we don't. But we may want you out of your marriage for the sake of your... Are you having a boy or a girl?"

"A boy."

I'm not sure if the baby's gender will change our position. I sure don't like the idea of having a child of either gender being raised by a man who takes pleasure in being what his username suggests, but I especially wouldn't want a son exposed to it. But this is a matter for Barbie.

"For the sake of your son, then. What would be the ideal outcome from this for you?"

"Marriage to Oliver. No career damage." Her lack of hesitation indicates that she's been thinking of precisely this outcome for her predicament.

"If we can make that happen, would you take the oath that you read about in my stories."

"Yes. Without hesitation."

I noted that she didn't seem alarmed at the prospect of being required to leave her husband. Her marriage is clearly all but over. I want her to feel connected to us, albeit by a thin line of spider silk that I can easily break. I give her a cell phone to use for contacting me. "My number is in the contact list under 'Mom'. Please, don't talk about this issue with anyone. Just tell your friend that secrecy is required to gain our help. Get her oath not to reveal whatever she already knows to anyone. We can reward her silence or punish her for breaking it. And do not talk to anyone else about my stories."

I review her husband's Tumblr blog on the way back to the hotel. It confirmed my suspicions. neglectedwife90, meet waiting2Bcucked. It appears that he has posted actual pictures of himself, although he's kept his face concealed. His erect dicklet is only four inches long and fails the silly test with the toilet paper roll that these men use to wallow in their inadequacy. He wears ridiculous princess dresses and maid uniforms and fantasizes about about being forced to see and do everything that William Fuscia hated and escaped from.

We can give him the life he wants as a condition of giving her the life she wants, but can we let them raise a son in that household? It seems unhealthy. We probably have years before it would harm him, but maybe it would be better to separate them now. Maybe get her a new husband and a new job. It's not ideal for Gabe, but a perfect solution might not be possible. I email my thoughts to Barbie, but I also decide to bounce them off Marta.

After she hears me out, she says, "It sounds like a straight up swap might solve all of your problems."

"I thought of that. We wouldn't want Oliver's kids to live with Kevin either, but I'm getting that control freak vibe from what I've read about Marianne. It could be trouble. I think we're at an impasse until I learn more about her. I'm so tired, but I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep. My mind is on fire."

"Would you like a neck and shoulder massage to help you relax."

"You would do that?"

"Sure. It doesn't conflict with my job description. It doesn't violate the ethics of my profession, as long as my sidearm stays close by. And I don't think your husband would mind if I give you a massage."

"You do understand that we have an open marriage, don't you?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have lines I shouldn't cross. I was present at Mrs. Malibu's lecture with him. I know what lengths both of you will go to for our cause. But think of it like a 'bro code'. My duty is to your security. That gives me access to you that he might not want exploited, as you might not have wanted Mrs. Malibu's access to him exploited."

This is definitely a new side of Marta being revealed. "You've lost your normal detachment, Marta. Are you saying you would... if he would...?"

"I'm only offering a massage, Cate. I'm not saying that I won't enjoy giving it to you, but that's all that's on the table tonight. But you're right, the 'normal detachment' has to give a little tonight. It's a consequence of sleeping in the same room. You're going to learn some personal things about me tonight. You lived in a dorm room with Mrs. Cardinal. It changed you. There's a reason I conceal myself from you. I've lived in barracks with women. We change subtly toward each other when we've seen each other undressed and that could happen tonight. I don't plan on sleeping in my clothes. I've already seen you naked. I can try to continue concealing myself from you, but I don't have to. Either way, just sleeping in the same room could change our... connection to each other. And there are risks with that. But I can try to help you sleep. So, I have makeup to remove and I like to shower before bed and a hot shower and a massage will help you sleep, so... do you want a neck and shoulder massage?"

I'm liking this new Marta. I should bounce more thoughts off her. "I would love a massage."

She goes into the bathroom to undress and my curiosity is driving me crazy. I hear her brushing her teeth and showering. The woman who emerges in a hotel bathrobe looks like a stranger. Her hair is the same color, but the pale white face, striking dark black lips, black gloves and dark clothing are all gone. Before me is a tall, slender, athletic, freckled ginger.

"Oh my god, Marta. I thought you were beautiful before, but wow! Tell me that your hair is dyed."

In response, she opens her robe and I see her firecrotch. She closes it quickly, not allowing my eyes to linger. I sense Bethany's touch in this. If she's continued reading my stories, she knows that I have a thing for gingers.

I take my turn in the bathroom and emerge in the other bathrobe. She's prepared my bed for the massage and has a small bottle of oil ready for my back. I drop the robe and crawl onto my belly on the bed. The oil and her expert technique soon have me very relaxed. Her bare ass sits on mine as she rubs the tension out of my back, shoulders, and neck. I feel her coarse pubic hair as it rubs above the valley of my ass. It makes me wet. It feels like she is also wet. I want this to lead to sex, but apparently, she has these professional ethics and this curiously specific concern for Dan's permission, and I don't want to push her away by trying to get closer. It's strangely comforting be held back by a sense of honor. Soon she is finished and the lights are off and we are each naked in our separate beds.

I try to sleep, but even with the benefits of the massage, it isn't happening. I know what the problem is. Visions of that brief glimpse of Marta's body have invaded my thoughts. I quietly rub myself, imagining the pleasures her body could give me. As I gently squeeze and tug my nipples, I imagine licking hers, and then licking lower and lower, across her rock hard six-pack and into that flame red bush. My fingers do not have to move fast for this. A long slow build up with the image of me licking her clit, and then her licking mine is sufficient. I try to be quiet as I come, but I fail. So does she.

"Good night, Marta."

I hear the smile in her voice, which is huskier than normal. "Good night, Cate Blanc."

I wonder why she used my full alias. She snores softly, but I bet that I will, too. Unfortunately, I drift to sleep thinking of Kevin and the disturbing things he wrote in his blog. He is not father material.