Prologue: "NWMD!" identifies this as a part of the "Not With My Daughter!" series of adventures befalling Marnie, her friends and family. Each stand-alone part derives from the initial story where a man named Larcher under the threat of unleashing his son on Marnie's daughter, Brenda, blackmails and humiliates Marnie. This is a part that would pass the age submission guideline. If you want to read these in the order that I wrote them, feel free to contact me or visit my site. Others to follow. Please enjoy.
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"Honey, I'm going to wait up for Brenda to get home. You go on to bed. Thank you. You were wonderful tonight." Marnie said, as she kissed her husband, Roger, passionately, good night.
"Not as wonderful as you, Snookums, you vixen. You have really become a sex dynamo lately. You're incredible. I love you. Don't stay up too long. Brenda can handle herself. I'm worried about you, though. I wouldn't want my sex kitten to burn herself out. Are you sure I can't talk you into coming to bed now?" Roger said, as he smooched with Marnie, trying to get her to change her mind about waiting up.
"No, I want to make sure she gets in okay." Marnie said, as she kissed the tip of his nose.
Marnie camped out on the living room couch. She tried reading, she tried TV, and she tried solitaire. Nothing was working. All of the excitement of the day had drained her energy, so she had nothing in reserve. "Maybe I should get up and make some coffee." She thought to herself, as she drifted off into dreamland.
When she woke up, it was morning. Roger was ready to go to work. "What time did Brenda get in last night?" He asked.
"I don't know. I feel asleep. She's in? You've seen her?" Marnie asked concerned.
"Of course. She's sound a sleep upstairs. No need to worry." He said reassuringly, "Gotta go. Big day. Important breakfast meeting. Love ya. (Kiss)"
Marnie went upstairs. She looked in at Brenda sleeping so angelically. She did not have the heart to wake her, but she did need to get to the bottom of all of this. So, she dressed in downtown clothes, left Brenda a note and took off in search of Larcher.
Coming up from parking into the lobby, she came upon a security guard, whom she had never seen before. She approached him, and he stood up with a big smile on his face saying, "Well hi there." Said as if he was really glad to see her.
Marnie grew uneasy with him, thinking it odd he was acting so familiar with her, when they had not even met. "Can you tell me where Larcher is right now? I really need to see him." Marnie asked, and looked around at a passerby, who smiled at her knowingly.
"I think he is checking or fixing a lock on the fifth floor. Try number 5230 first. If you don't connect with him there, you can always come back here to me." He said in an immature flirtatious manner.
Marnie was beginning to feel that she was having a "Twilight Zone" experience. She was about to get in the elevator, but it was pretty full, so she said that she would ride the next one up. Everybody fussed and insisted that she use the current one. When she got in, all eyes were upon her, looking her up and down. They did not even bother to look away, when she looked them in the eye. No one seemed to be getting off on any floor before hers. When they got to the fifth floor, she got out and looked back as she walked, to see that the door was being held open, and everyone was watching her walk away down the hall. When she was out of eyeshot, she searched for the restroom to check how she looked, and to see if her slip was showing, or something.
She did not find anything out of the ordinary. She was not even wearing a slip. She did look pretty hot in her white blouse, that hinted at the lacy bra underneath, the form fitting, above the knee skirt, slit up the left side and heels. It was an okay hair day. Maybe she just had not been giving herself enough credit these days for looking as good as she did for being 39 yrs. old.
She continued on her search for Larcher. There he was crouched down in front of a door, looking at a partially disassembled door lock. She approached him, tapped on his shoulder and demanded, "Larcher, we need to talk."
"Nice to see you too, Missy. Have you come for your victory parade?" He asked smiling.
"What on earth are you talking about? I'm here to tell you to keep your kid away from my daughter. You said, that if I cooperated with you, he and his friends would stay away." She said, angry and oblivious to the gist of what he had just said.
"I don't know what you are talking about. My brat doesn't pick his nose without my okay. Can you say the same for your brat?"
Marnie stared at him angry and frustrated. Then it hit her like an invisible vapor reaching up to her nose, "What are you talking about, a 'victory parade'?"
"You know, for you single-handedly bringing down the top men's team in volleyball for the first time in fifteen years." He said still smiling. "Yeah, it's a big deal here. The men have a round robin to field their best team, and the women do the same. Then there is a championship match. The men always let the women stay in the game until the very end, and take it away at the end with fanfare that only they appreciate. Well Missy, you've started a new tradition, that will probably last for years, the 'tits between the eyes offense'. I can see it now, every game close until the very end, where the women all flash the men at that crucial moment, and steal each game away from them for the next fifteen years. This year you crushed their egos. In the future, it will be the moment that everyone will be waiting for. You should see the tribute some of the ladies have set up for you in the secretary's lounge. Want to come and see?" He said, like the Cheshire Cat.
They went down to the second floor. Marnie's insides were a flutter. Her heart was pumping faster. Her short breaths were interspersed with a deep breath of longer duration. Larcher held one of the glass doors for her. She entered, started to look around, the few bodies taking a break looked back, and started to recognize her. They were looking over her shoulder and then back at her. So, Marnie turned to look at the 17 by 11" blown up picture of a 39 year old lady, flashing her large breasts proudly at two men across the net from her, and who have let the volleyball touch the ground between them. Above the picture was a computer banner, "We Are The Champions". Below it were two other 11 by 8½" shots of Marnie with her top being held up by a teammate.
"Oh-my-god, Larcher! You've got to do something. I can't have Roger seeing this. Please help me. Where else? Oh-my-god, no!" She said grabbing his arm in a plea for help, despite his snickering.
"Don't worry Missy. You know Walter always looks out for you." He said, causing stomach acid to rise to the back of Marnie's throat.
Okay Ladies, and Gentleman, these are going to have to be removed. It is against the company's anti-harassment policy to have such materials displayed on the premises." He said, as he reached up to untack the 17 by 11 photocopy blowup.
An "awwwwe" whined through the room.
"Can I have that?" The man in the room asked.
"Sure." Said Larcher, "Knock yourself out."
"Larcher!" Marnie said annoyed.
"Don't worry Missy, he doesn't know your husband." Larcher said amused. "Now I expect you to do something for me." Larcher said as they moved out to the hall.
"Larcher, you've got to promise me that all of the pictures are going to be gathered up before my husband sees them. It's over for me if he does, and you'll lose your leverage over me too. Your plaything, your obedient slave, your slut, is history, if he ever learns any of this." Marnie said with almost a hint of relief at the thought.
"That's not true, Missy. You can't manage without me. You've discovered the slut in you that all women have. You all tamp it down to keep order in your lives. You expect other women to tamp it down in them too, to make it easier for you all to protect your territories. You are made to be a slut. You actually love sex more than us pricks do. You can cum over and over again. You toy with us, but in reality, the more cock you get, the more cock you want." Larcher opined uncharacteristically.
"Larcher you haven't a clue about women. You are so far from reality I am embarrassed for you." Marnie said disgusted.
"No, you're thinking from the standpoint of needing us for things like security, fathering, and to lift and carry for you. If you take those things away, you'll have to admit, that you've wanted and needed more cock, more of the time, since you've met me. I'll bet your wet right now with just us talking about it." Larcher said, as he put his fingers up her skirt. "Damn, pantyhose." He said, he pulled the hose and panties down to mid thigh right in the hall.
"God, Larcher. Are you insane?" Marnie said, putting her hand on top of his arm to stop him, worried she'd be caught.
Larcher reached his mark between her legs. "See, what did I tell you. Wet as a bitch in heat." He continued to stroke her, his hand entering her skirt through the slit; Marnie was looking both ways in panic, her hands on his shoulders, standing against the wall of the corridor, legs apart, a little higher on tiptoes than with just her heels.