Mindy Poppago: Blue: Part 2: Requests, Commands, and Full-Bodied Demands

by A. J. Hallenger

  For information on published and upcoming books by A.J. Hallenger, go to ajhallenger.com or to Amazon’s A.J. Hallenger Author Page.

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  Requests, Commands, and

  Full-Bodied Demands

  Part 2 of BLUE, Book 1 of the Mindy Poppago Series

  By

  A.J. Hallenger

  Prime Meridian Press

  primemeridianpress.com

  Copyright© 2017 by the author (mailto:aj@ajhallenger.com)

  Prime Meridian Press

  (mailto:admin@primemeridianpress.com)

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author or publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Furthermore, any and all errors in grammar, punctuation, and spelling are entirely the fault of the author. Kindly report such mistakes (that are not in character) to the author at aj@ajhallenger.com for correction.

  *****

  This book is intended for mature audiences only.

  Contents

  Episode 5 - Seduced by the Inquisitive and Probing Octopussy

  Episode 6 - Do unto others…

  Episode 7 – Feeding the Dragon

  Episode 8 – I’ll Show You Mine

  Episode 5 - Seduced by the Inquisitive and Probing Octopussy

  I got up the next morning, Monday, around ten. I felt stiff, probably from being in bed for so long. I might have protested to Marla about making me stay at her house, but to be honest, my bum was sore, and the bed they let me use is really soft and comfy. Not to mention, they always have good stuff to eat. I felt pampered and patronized, but, what the hell, I had a good excuse to stay in bed and binge watch a series. I was way behind in The Walking Dead and made little progress as I ended up spending most of the afternoon and evening sleeping until bedtime; then I slept some more. I must have needed it.

  The house was quiet that morning. I slipped the robe on and headed for the kitchen for some coffee. There was a note from Marla under my car keys next to the coffee maker. Mindy - Here are your keys. Please be careful! I love you — M. That was the official okay from Marla that I could be relatively trusted again to make my own trouble. The coffee had cooled so I decided I would just pick some up on the way home.

  I took a quick shower and dressed in jeans and a black, low-cut slip-on top with a picture of a pair of stilettos on the front. I was wondering where that shirt went, and I should have known it would be in the accumulated Marla-wardrobe-stash. I grabbed my purse and keys, scribbled a quick, thanks for rescuing me again, I love you! - Min, on Marla’s note, locked the door behind me and took in the feel and smell of freedom again. It was a warm summer day, and I felt great—other than for my stiffness. Settling into my car seat wasn't very comfortable either, but I wasn't going to let that slow me down. I backed out of the driveway and launched for home.

  On the way to my apartment, I noticed that it was only eleven o’clock and I usually get to the tattoo shop around four, so I had some time to kill. Then Julio came to mind. He’s my masseuse friend. We met when he came into the shop for a tat, and we’ve been buddies ever since. We barter tats and massages, and he owes me. He’s a tall, well-toned, handsome and gay Puerto Rican with long dark hair and a black mustache, and he could do wonders for my stiffness and soreness—especially, with his always fucking awesome happy endings! I call him a purveyor of orgasms. And he’s another one I like to tell my stories to, besides Jerry, for a good laugh. I punched his number and then increased my acceleration when he answered and suggested I come over now. Apparently, he was jones'n for a new tattoo. It was a mutual satisfaction of pleasures. I was there in five minutes.

  Julio had converted a wing of his rambling ranch home to his therapy studio. He could not only provide euphoric massages, but he had sitting areas for meditation with softened lights—mostly candles, and soft new age music. He holds guided meditation sessions a couple of times a week, and I've been to a few. They did help me to feel calmer, but I'm not one to stick to routines.

  I didn’t see any other cars parked on the street, so I knew I had come at a good time. I’ll have Julio’s full attention. I walked to the side of the house to where the door to the studio was and stepped in. I shut the door and stood still like a blind mouse—it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the lighting change. Probably as designed, that first minute of regaining my sight enhances my hearing and smelling senses. I could hear the soft music and smell the incense, and on cue, my pussy started melting.

  It never took long to relax after simply walking into his studio and entering the surrounding tranquilizing ambiance. Now, after so many of his special massages, just by getting a whiff of the studio’s familiar incense, I predictably begin to have dew drops collecting in my panties like Pavlov's dog salivates upon hearing a bell. I wouldn't be surprised if he designed his studio that way to get us clients hooked. In my work, I put people in pain that some get off on, and they feel a rush of physical excitement merely from the sound of my tattoo needle machine. So, they come back for another hit of the ink needle torture as much as for a tattoo. Similarly, Julio can make women like me wet with a breath of fragrance. Some say that's some kind of subliminal psychological programming, but others call it simply good marketing. Whatever gets me going—I'm not complaining.

  My eyes were adjusted to the candlelight just as I saw him approach. “Hello, beautiful,” he said in his musical voice, then he gave me a peck on the cheek. “Where ya been?”

  “Hey, Julio,” I said as my eyes were still adjusting to see his face. “Well, I’ve had a wild last couple of nights.”

  “Oh, do tell me more,” he encouraged playfully.

  “Could I fill you in while you’re rubbing me down? I’m really stiff, and it hurts.”

  “Sure, baby, come on over here and get naked. I want to rub on all your lovely tats. I’ll get some weed ready. Do you need some jacuzzi time first?”

  “Nah, I just took a hot shower. I’m ready,” I answered.

  I was quick to oblige undressing. I like being nude, and it doesn't take much to have me strip. Julio returned with a bowlful of weed, and I took a couple or three or four draws. I knew it would help me with my tension and pain. Julio is brilliant at knowing exactly what I need to relax. Then I laid my beat-up body upon his massaging bed, with my face in place at the opening put there just for that purpose. Then he draped warm and heavy wet towels all over my body and limbs. I felt my body giving up the fight as I began relaxing. The towel on my ass felt especially good. It was sweet torture—inhibitions and defenses were falling to the wayside as the THC buzz settled in, and I freely began to provide him with a detailed blow-by-blow description of my doings Friday night and Saturday.

  Of course, I had to tell him about Jake and his masterpiece of a cock. “A perfect penis, eh?” he questioned skeptically. “It sounds like you were very lucky! Go on—tell me how it felt in your mouth,” he said, highlighting his interest. He moved towels aside as his knowing hands and fingers worked in places that hurt the most while I spit out the details of my wee hours' romp. I told him about the accident with the pig ("That doesn't surprise me one bit, knowing you.") and the emergency room escapades. He especially liked the way I described handsome blue-eyed Dr. Saylor and Ruby, the red-haired, big titted porn star nurse. "Ruby,
you say? I'm sure," he skeptically mused.

  When it came time for me to roll over on my back, I did so without a pain anywhere, most notably in my ass. He worked my arms and legs for a brief while. There wasn't a drop of tension left in them after the face-down treatment and the dose of pot. Then his hands gently began to squeeze my upper thighs while his thumbs gingerly worked the inside, occasionally brushing against my labia, which loved every stroke he made. This wasn't so much to massage my leg muscles as much as it was to prepare my cunt for some intensively deep rubbing and stimulation. It seemed unnecessary because I and my puss have been excited for a long time, but he’s the expert, so I didn’t want to interfere with anything—especially, down there. He spread the lips open with two fingers, looked and declared, “Ah, you are ready, and it is good. I think God said that.”

  “You mean before a fuck? It must not have been on one of his misogyny days,” I suggested.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that, honey. The vagina gets wet for the cock’s pleasure, mostly. Isn’t that it? It’s not so much for the woman’s pleasure—what are you thinking?” he countered. “I thank God for lube.”

  “Whatever. Amen,” I said. “Just rub me to fuckin’ paradise, ok? Christ! What kind of tattoo do you think I'm going to give you for this anyway? Start earning it, chicky.”

  “Oh, girl, just shut up and get ready. Paradise is coming.”

  “Yes, paradise is cumming,” I mimicked.

  “Sing it, honey—true that! Okay, now I want you on your side so we can get the pressure off your tush,” he directed.

  I followed along by turning to my side, while he positioned pillows against my back to make it comfortable. He also bent my legs at my knees and put pillows under my top leg so that he could have easy access to my aroused pussy from behind. He’d never done it like this before. As I grew curious as to what else might be new to the procedure, I heard him switch on a vibrator—music to my ears. He then held it in front of me so that I could see what it looked like.

  “It’s just a regular vibrator, baby, except that it has this bump on it. And why do you suppose it has a bump there?” he questioned.

  It was an interesting piece—a professional’s tool, no doubt, and I said, keeping in line with our previous bantering, “Because God put it there?”

  “It’s for claiming your G, lucky woman. I wish I had one—a G-spot, that is, and I don’t mean God-spot, though I might have something there.”

  “So, show me how lucky I am, please.” I couldn’t wait.

  “Oh, Mindy sweet, your wish is my command, and I might not want to stop.”

  “From your fuckin’lips to God’s ears. Just do it. Please, dammit!”

  He placed the tip of the vibrating tool against my clit, and my body responded with a slight jolt.

  “Too much?” he asked, caringly.

  "Fuck, no, it's fuckin' nice there! Jesus!" I exclaimed. "You can turn that up to eleven!"

  “Good,” he replied and then began to move it slowly back and forth in my slit and on my bulging pussy button. So far, it felt great but nothing I would call new. When he slowly penetrated me with the tip, I felt my abdomen and breast swell. I was wetter than water.

  Suddenly he stopped cold and shut down the vibrator while the business end was still inside of me. My mouth dropped open, and I uttered a long a-a-a-a-ah!

  “Hey, what kind of tattoo will you give me?” he asked with a wry smile.

  I looked up at him dumbfounded. “What kind of tattoo?” I said. “You fucker! That’s not fair! Turn it back on, goddamn you!”

  He laughed. “Just kidding,” he said as he switched the motor back on. “Laughter helps you relax.”

  “You fucker!” I repeated, mixed with a chuckle, then promptly fell into the fuck zone again.

  He changed the vibration speed as he probed deeper and slowly back-and-forth. I was motionless and had moved into a sky-high happy place while he moved the wand ever so slow. This was what I needed. This was real therapy. Then the motion changed to a throbbing sensation, and I went on alert. Wow, this was something different!

  “You doing ok, girl?”

  “Mmmmmmm,” I replied.

  “It gets better. Hold on,” he said. I was feeling so close to the limit in intensity; I didn’t know whether I should be excited or alarmed. I held my breath.

  I felt him position the vibrator just so, where I could feel the rotation of the bumpy stimulator against the roof of my vagina and go around and around, massaging my cunt on the inside. He made some vibrator and rotation speed adjustments, and then I lost my senses. All I could think about was the incredible, surging feeling that was building deep in my loins.

  And, as if that wasn’t enough, I felt something inserted in my anus, and it felt crazy fucking good. Then I felt it again, then again. He showed me later how he was using a small rod with large marble-size bead-shaped bulbs positioned down a flexible shaft so that he could push and pull them out one at a time. Ben-wah beads on a stick. There were five beads—I know there were five because I felt the intense pleasure of each one hitting me like torpedoes—really nice fucking torpedoes. They were all in when I felt myself starting to cum. I felt my whole body gradually become a part of the climax as a rush was radiating from my turbo-charged, G-powered pussy. I let out a loud deep cry of ecstasy as the orgasm exploded throughout my body. Then, on top of that, the beaded rod was slowly pulled out of my ass as I came. Each ball caused my body to feel my cumming even more intensely! Fire the torpedoes! Holy fuck, it was truly a brain-blowout orgasm that seemed to last a wonderfully long time.

  As I floated down from heaven, I heard Julio say, “I think I must’ve hit it, huh?”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, with barely a whisper. I was still trying to stabilize my heart and breathing, as he held the vibrator in place at a wonderfully soothing speed.

  “You got another one in you?” he asked.

  I took a few seconds to breathe. “Are you kidding me? Fuck!” I answered. “Fuck, yeah! Go for it!” I charged, hoping I wasn’t kidding myself.

  “Alrighty, who’s your daddy?” he said as he made the adjustments to the vibrator.

  “Batman,” I said. Saying that made me think of the Marine, and I wondered how he was doing. I wanted to fuck him.

  “Close enough,” Julio replied. He changed the settings on the vibrator, and I felt the wet and swelling response of my pussy welcoming it immediately. I imagined Dale's cock filling me up from behind with his strong arms around me and holding me tight—giving me pleasure. Then I felt the beads taking position up my ass again, loading the torpedoes to fire when ready. I felt my body suddenly start to tense up as the sensations grew rapidly inside of me. This next orgasm hit me faster, but nonetheless, at least as explosive and intense as the first one, and again I let out a shameful cry to God as the beads were pulled out with maximum-effect timing. My whole body shivered and came, and I settled into a pile of skin, muscle, and bone. I was sweating, and my eyes had tears in them. Julio let me lie in peace, with the soft music, candles, and incense, as I tried to gather my strength and wits. Instead, I fell asleep and dreamt that Marine Dale was lying beside me, and then he softly whispered in my ear, “The fuckin’ mermaid is crying.” I asked him what he meant, and before he could answer, I was being woken up.

  “Mindy, honey, don’t you have to work tonight?” he was asking.

  I struggled to think clearly. For a moment I thought I was being woken up in the hospital again, but the voice was different, there was music, and I could smell…then I recognized the incense. Julio.

  “Oh, yeah,” I muttered, “thanks.” I finally got up the steam to sit up. I was groggy, and there were tears in my eyes. I was half-expecting Dale to be there and looked back at where I had been lying to make sure he wasn’t.

  “I was having a strange dream,” I said with a yawn.

  “A girl with your crazy kind of life having a strange dream? How bizarre,” he said, not sparing his sarcasm.

&n
bsp; “No, really. Even strange for me.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Well, this guy came barging into the shop Friday night, yammering how he wanted a pussy inked on his chest—”

  “—Wait, this was your dream?” he asked.

  “No, this part really happened,” I clarified.

  “Of course.”

  “But I talked him into getting a mermaid being fuckin’ stabbed by Poseidon instead.”

  “Sure. I can see that connection—vagina to mythical slasher murder. So obvious.”

  “Whatever. Anyway we talked about ourselves, and we had a lot in common, and we really understood each other. He was really cool, and I kind of liked him. But then he got shot that night after he left the shop—”

  “—Shot? Like, for real shot? Gun bullets shot? Oh, that was your dream.”

  “No! Fuck, yeah, shot for real! And I feel like it's my fault because I might have given him a goddamn curse when I inked that tat on him. I mean, it’s like I committed a forbidden act, and look at what happened—he got fuckin’ shot, and I had a wreck with a motherfuckin’ pig!”

  “Ok, you’re kinda scarin’ me now. You sure you didn’t dream all this?”

  “For real! And then, I didn't know it at the time, but he was in the emergency room at the same time I was!”

  “Oh my god! And then you met the sexy doctor and the ruby-red nurse, and they were hot for you and don't forget the perfect dick. Are you sure you’re okay? Do I need to start worrying about you?”

  “Fuck, but you know, what's really strange—”

  “—Oh god, more strange?”

  “No, seriously. I started feeling something special happening in my heart for them. I mean something really emotional and warm, and I want to be with them again, but I need to be different. Like, better—respectable and good for them. And I don't know what to do about it. I don't even know if I can do anything. You know? Am I making sense? I'm crazy, aren't I? I yam what I yam. Where did that line come from?”