Debbie Pearson

Debbie had had a virtually sleepless night but had still arrived early for her day's duty. She had spent much of her time in deep thought, her usual and conscientious way of working things out had prevailed and she had written down several plans of action. One by one she had discarded them, but kept segments of the better ones combining them, until at last she had made up her mind.

The real success of such a relationship will rely not on subterfuge or deceit, but on playing by the rules, as long as of course one could manipulate the rules first. She smiled at the thought as she looked across the corner of the table to her confident… Constance Hartman.

Constance spoke with consummate authority her voice well modulated and clear… as if she were in court.

Yes it is perfectly legal. You are over the age of twenty-one years, and as such are an adult, with the same rights as a person twice or even three times your age. You are a valued citizen of this community. You are employed in a responsible and valued job. With my recommendation there would never be any question of your suitability. I think the idea is wonderful and I am sure that I can get my fellow justices to sign immediately and… I can tell you no department in this city would ever question the recommendation of three Justices of the Peace.

Debbie looked thoughtful and then spoke quietly to the Senior Judge.

"Would it not seem unusual to have him living there? Would not that be brought into question?"

Constance looked at her and replied confidently.

"Of course not; he is a minor. I am going to state that he is not mature and it is a blessing that he was brought to the attention of the court. The order takes him to his legal age of adulthood and until that time he will be your ward: bound over to you and subject to your rules. It is not unusual for the person that has a ward bound over to them to take a keen rather than summary interest in their welfare. We have several upright citizens, which I could quote you or anyone else that should enquire, who take a keen day to day interest and control of their wards."

Constance paused and looked seriously at Debbie.

"I assure you that feeling the way you do… and I know you have deliberated well… it will be not only be beneficial to you, but to him too. I think you are right about his passion for you and by the end of today you will know… and if your suspicions about him are completely wrong then I can easily relieve you of your responsibility. How does that sound do we have a deal?"

Constance laughed and Debbie smiled, secure and happy in her decision.

Debbie had really made up her mind yesterday, but had promised herself that she would scrutinise him again today, to confirm her decision. There were few pitfalls but very much more to gain. She knew that she would never be able to live a normal life again, the Punishment Center had seen to that. It had awakened latent desires that she had not consciously realised that she had had. Her financial circumstances made working at the Center a vocation, rather than a means to earn a living. She was convinced that she would never be able to marry in the normal sense, after all what bedtime activity could compare with the normal procedures operated at the Center on a daily basis!

She stood up and helped Constance clear the tray of coffee and biscuits from the surface of the enormous plate glass conference table.

They both arranged the chairs so that only the side of table furthest away from the door would have seating. Their view would be unhindered.

Although Debbie was aware that she would go through the motions of her work for the rest of the day, she knew that her interest would be less than attentive. She had but one image in her mind… and that was walking through her own front door… with her prize.

She excused herself from Constance and returned to her office. Like the senior personnel at the Center, her office afforded her every luxury… and today she was glad of her personal facilities. She entered her bathroom, which was large and beautifully tiled in Tuscan. There was a large bath and shower, double sink and bidet. The walls, where not tiled, were mirrored; affording a rear view as well as a front view by the reflected person standing in certain parts of the bathroom.

Off to the side of the bathroom was her personal dressing room where, as well as her uniforms, she kept a variety of summer and winter clothes.

Shelves and cupboards lined the dressing room, filled with her personal effects, makeup, toiletries and simple jewellery. She had on several occasions attended unplanned functions straight from the Center building, without having to return home for an appropriate dress or pair of shoes.

She undressed slowly and sensuously, her mood dreamily surreal as she watched herself in the mirror. As she became nude, she stood to appraise her body. Her breasts were her most unusual feature. Full and firm, they were perfectly proportioned to her slender and lithe body. The unusual feature of her breasts was the second mound of flesh that surrounded the nipple.

It was so pronounced that it was like a small second breast placed on the centre of the first. She had only ever seen breasts like hers once before and that had been on a German Television programme that had been dubbed into English for PBS.

The documentary was supposed to chronicling the daily life of a tribe of Africans. Debbie had been drawn to the pictures of the female population, who all seemed to carry the same physical make-up. While the men of the tribe were very average in their physique and certainly could not be described as handsome, the women were tall and beautiful and their breasts had certainly taken the eye of the cameraman.

More and more throughout the programme he had concentrated his camera upon this physical feature, so much so, that she was certain that PBS would not be showing it again, certainly not as a documentary about tribal way of life.

The plump and prominent secondary mounds of flesh of the African girls were so alluring that she had stripped off her clothes and compared her own breasts in her mirror to those of the tribal girls. She realised that the shape was exactly the same and that her own plump mounds of flesh were certainly as prominent and as large as those of the televised girls.

She had always been aware from the time of her first serious date that boys could not get enough of her. The odd boyfriends that she had tolerated for short periods of time had been extremely hard to get rid of once they had caught site of the alluring look of her breasts.

She leisurely examined her body, noting that her stomach was absolutely flat and firm and accented another unusual feature of her body. The flatness of her tummy accented the exaggerated prominence of her pubic mound. The flesh was pliant and firm and swelled to a perfect mound that dipped sexily between her legs.

The lips of her vagina were plump and reminded her of two perfectly smooth and firm wedges of peach. There was a patch of soft pubic hair, about the size of a silver dollar, above the crease of her vagina; this was the only hair she had upon her body below her eyebrows. Her underarms as well as her pubic and anal area were completely and naturally bereft of hair. She had often thought that it was a good job that it was fashionable to shave ones arms and pubis in this country. She had met other girls who from birth, had little or no hair on their bodies, but had never met anyone with such a perfect arrangement as herself.

She examined her long beautifully shaped legs, turning full circle in the mirror to appraise the tone and quality of her perfectly proportioned limbs. Even her feet were neat and small. Like her slender and articulate hands, her feet followed the same petite proportions. Although Debbie possessed a degree of modesty that others found difficult to maintain, she had known that she was indeed blessed with an unusual and superior face and body. For a pretty girl, it does not take long, even from an early age, to know that you are superior in looks. The attention of boys from that early age breeds hauteur that, often subconsciously, is designed to keep admirers at their distance.

She turned again, this time examining her beautifully firm buttocks. The smooth skin of the perfectly shaped hillocks of her bottom glistened with health under the lights of the bathroom.

She smiled to herself as she thought about the course she had embarked upon.

‘I wonder if he will enjoy the benefits,' she mused as she let her long slender fingers trickle magically over her breasts, before firmly sliding down her flat tummy to the prominent mound below.

Slowly she teased open the firm plump lips and dipped her fingers gently between the springy firmness of the pliant wedges of flesh. It took but a few moments before her body shuddered in a tightly confined, but delicious orgasm.

Her mouth opened in rapture, her small beautifully shaped lips opening to reveal her perfect teeth as she breathed in deeply.

‘Yes my young man,' she thought, you will suit me wonderfully well and if you are a good boy, reap your reward… but under firm control.