Names Have Power: Tim's Magic Voice Makes A Harem (6 page)

Chapter 11
The Commercial Airs

The next week was crazy at Tim Hanson Ford.

The commercial aired during the noontime news of
three TV stations, roughly twenty-four hours after we’d started shooting it.
Our phone started ringing. Half the callers asked, “Your `No Cheat Guarantee,’
you don’t really mean that, do you?” The other half of our callers demanded to
know, “Who are those
babes
?”

By six that evening, the ad was posted on YouTube,
and I was getting calls from “The Today Show” and “Good Morning America.” The
next morning I had to pass up a blowjob from Deborah because I was doing “live
via satellite” TV interviews.

Two days later, a customer came to my office and
told me that he’d overheard Jeff (a salesman I’d never liked) tell a young
couple that he was overestimating their income on the loan application “so that
you’ll be sure to be approved.” Reputable car salesmen disapprove of such a
practice; it sticks the car-buyer with payments he can’t afford. The dishonest
car salesman has long since spent his commission check when the repo truck
hauls the overextended borrower’s car away.

With the snitching customer tagging along, I
confronted Jeff McBeal, who admitted his misdeed to me. (Amazing, huh?) The
customer’s jaw dropped when, just as I’d promised, I fired Jeff then and there.

What I didn’t know until next morning was that the
customer who’d tattled on Jeff was a local newspaper reporter, doing an
undercover investigation. The newspaper article not only described the Jeff
situation, but also outed Susan as the damsel-in-distress in the commercial.
The article’s headline was “Wow, Tim Hanson means it.”

Chapter 12
Dinner With Gothika

On the phone I heard Susan’s voice. “Mr. Hanson,
you have a call from a Jeanette McAllister. She says it’s …
personal
?”
Susan’s voice sounded puzzled.

I was puzzled too; I didn’t recognize the name. “Hello,
this is Tim Hanson.”

“Mister Hanson, I am Slave Jeanette, and Mistress
Gothika—”

“Oh, you mean Ashley?”

“Mistress will be pleased that you remembered her
name. Anyway, Mistress
Ashley
has commanded that I invite you to dinner
with us, either tomorrow night or the night after, whichever is convenient for
you.”

“That’s short notice. Do you know why she said
those
nights, and not later?”

“Mistress did not confide her reasons to her slave.
But I know that she’s off, those nights.”

And Sarah works both those nights. Could
supposedly lesbian Ashley be making a play for me?
I wondered. Aloud I
said, “Tomorrow night’s fine. I can be there at six-thirty.”

The following evening at 6:30, I was holding a
bottle of wine as I stood at Ashley’s front door, in a prosperous part of town.
I rang the doorbell.

When strawberry-blond Jeanette opened the door, I
recognized her as a dancer at the Nimfo Club. Now she was dressed in white
platform stilettos, a white micro-miniskirt, and a white fishnet “blouse” that
did nothing to cover her unbrassiered tits. Jeanette gave me a spokesmodel
smile and said, “Mistress welcomes you and invites you to enter.”

“Freely and of your own will,” added a woman’s
voice from behind Jeanette.

I walked through the door and past Jeanette.
Ashley/Gothika stood there in a black-leather dress that was cut like an
evening gown with slits up the side. Needless to say, the dress flattered
Ashley’s gigantic tits. Her hair and fingernails were still black, her lipstick
was midnight red, her eye shadow was midnight purple, and she was wearing
black-skull dangling earrings.

She smiled at me and said, “Thank you for bringing
wine. Slave Jeanette, kiss Tim on the cheek and then pour three glasses of
wine. You may take an equal share.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Jeanette obediently kissed my
cheek, and then took the wine bottle into the kitchen.

Ashley laughed. “Fuck, Tim, it is
such
a
relief that you have a slave of your own! There’s so much explanation I can
skip. Did your girl really become your slave to save her Corvette?”

I shrugged. “That, and to stay out of jail.”

By now, Ashley had led me to facing overstuffed
chairs. Jeanette walked up, handed Ashley and me each a wineglass, then sat on
the right arm of Ashley’s chair. Ashley reached over and moved her right hand
inside Jeanette’s tiny skirt, while Ashley sipped the wine that she held in her
left hand. No panties covered Jeanette’s shaved pussy. If Jeanette was
embarrassed at being masturbated in front of me, she didn’t say so.

Less than a minute later, Jeanette bit her lip. “I’m
close to cumming, Mistress.”

Ashley withdrew her hand, wiping her wet fingers on
Jeanette’s skirt. “Serve dinner now, slave. Make me be pleased with you. You
may pull your skirt down.”

Jeanette glanced at me, then said, “Thank you,
Mistress.” She stood up, tugged on her skirt, and walked into the kitchen.
Jeanette’s face was red, her nipples jutted out, and she smelled like hot
pussy.

During dinner, I explained how Deborah had become
my slave. (Except that I didn’t mention my Power’s part in Deborah’s
enslavement.) Then I asked, “So Jeanette, tell me, how did it happen with you?”

Jeanette said, “It started in high school. We both
were going to the same high school—”

“Slave, why are you speaking with a man without my
permission?” Ashley asked, with bite in her voice.

“But Mistress, he told me to tell him—”

I realized what the problem was: my Power had made
Jeanette answer my question. So it was up to me to fix things. Something I said
must’ve worked, because seconds later, Ashley was smiling across the table. “Slave
Jen-Jen, you are forgiven.” Ashley made a gesture toward Jeanette,
Continue
your story.

Jeanette said, “We both were in Grand City Central
High. I was a cheerleader in the Junior class. Ashley was a Senior and a Goth.”

I laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Anyway, Ashley saw a mouse in the school
cafeteria, so she organized a cafeteria boycott. I’d blown her off before—she
wasn’t cool, she wasn’t popular—but with this boycott, she took charge. She was
strong
. She was a
goddess
.”

“Did it work?” I asked Ashley. “The boycott?”

“Yeah, eventually, after I went around to all the
cliques—jocks and cheerleaders, stoners, nerds—and made my case. Several times.
At first the school said, `We don’t have the budget for an extra exterminator
visit,’ but a week later, they caved.”

I turned to the strawberry blonde. “So Jeanette,
how did you two hook up?”

Jeanette made eye contact with Ashley, then said, “On
the second day of the boycott, I started keeping her company outside the
cafeteria during lunch hour. And on one of those days—”

“Fourth day of the boycott,” Ashley said, “which
was your third lunchtime to be hanging with me.”

“Anyway, lunch hour was almost over and she said, `Fuck,
I forgot to get my Shakespeare book. Jeanette, go fetch it out of my locker and
bring it here before the bell rings.’ So I did.”

I nodded. “She didn’t ask you to, she ordered you
to.”

Jeanette said, “And that’s how my slavery to
Mistress started.”

Ashley said, “As soon as she handed me the book, I
kissed her, right in the school hallway. The hallway was
empty
, but
still! When I kissed her and she didn’t freak, I knew I had her.” Ashley
smiled, then said, “And now she’s my stripper sex slave.”

A few minutes later, Ashley said to me, “In your
commercial, Sarah was driving the Mustang, and another dancer was in the
passenger seat—”

I nodded. “My slave Deborah.”

Ashley said, “So the women in the Mustang were
dancers I know. But who was the third dancer?”

I said blankly, “Third dancer?”

“The blond hottie whose old clunker broke down.
Where does
she
work at?”

“She’s not a stripper. She’s my receptionist.”

“Oh,
really
,” Ashley said, her voice
dropping an octave. “Well, if she decides to earn extra cash as a dancer, I’ll
be glad to help in
any
way I can.”

“I’ll tell her, if Susie mentions anything. But I
don’t think she’s interested.”

A few minutes later, Ashley asked, “So are you
going to make more of those commercials? With the three women?”

I said, “Sure. These ads are different than what
the other dealers are doing.”

“They certainly are,” Ashley said, laughing. Then
her eyes went a little out of focus, as if she was thinking hard about
something.

Dinner was over, and we all three walked into the
living room. I sat down on the couch, but then Ashley walked over to me, knelt
in front of me, and smiled at me. I got a magnificent view of magnificent tits.

“Tim,” she said, “I’ve
really
enjoyed having
you as my guest. You’re interesting to talk with.” Fifteen seconds later, her
mouth was on my cock.

She sucked me fast. She sucked me slow. Her tongue
swirled my head. She tongued my wrinkled spot. She deepthroated me. I was
reminded again that she had been able to pay cash for a new car by charging big
money for her blowjobs, and she was giving me this one for free.

Actually, she gave me 1-1/2 blowjobs for free. She
sucked me to orgasm (which felt glorious), then milked me to limpness, then
kept sucking me till I was hard and happy again.

Ashley pulled her mouth off my erect cock, then
stood up. “Slave Jeanette, take Tim into the guest bedroom and fuck him till I
tell you to stop. You have permission to cum.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Jeanette said, as she eyed
my cock. Her nipples were hard.

Jeanette took me into a small room that was nearly
filled by a double bed. As soon as I shut the door, Jeanette started to undress.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m undressing,” she said. Seeing my puzzled look,
she added, “I get naked, then I undress you, then you have me.”

“Stop, Jeanette. Stop right there. Let
me
undress you.”

It didn’t take long, because she wasn’t wearing
much. And I swear, she was getting off on it. I said to her, “Jeanette, tell me
why this excites you.”

She was flushed now. “Because it’s been so long
since anyone undressed me.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

Jeanette shrugged. “Now it’s my turn to do you.”

She did a lot of stroking and caressing in the
process of undressing me—more than was necessary to remove my clothing. All
that touching of Jeanette’s was making my cock twitch. She had just pulled my
shorts to the floor, and I was just stepping out of them, when the bedroom door
opened.

I turned around to see Ashley leaning against the
doorjamb, leering at us. She said, “Goody, I’m just in time for the fireworks.”

I said, “Ahem. People get privacy for what Jeanette
and I are about to do.”

“You’re in my house. You’re about to fuck my slave.
I’m entitled to see this,” Ashley replied.

I sighed. “I remind you that I’m not a rutting stud
bull, and I’m not another of your slaves—I don’t have to play your game.
Ashley, you have two choices: You walk out now, and shut the door and wait till
we’re done,
or
you get naked now and I fuck you too.”

“I don’t like
either
of those choices.”

“Otherwise, I get dressed right now and I leave,
leaving Jeanette horny and needy. And Ashley, you care for Jeanette too much to
let her suffer so.”

Ashley’s face, which had been looking at me with a
challenging and stubborn expression, now softened as she looked at Jeanette
lying on the bed. Ashley said, “It’s true, I care for Jeanette very much.”
Turning to face me again, Ashley said, “Enjoy yourselves.” She shut the door as
she walked out.

Jeanette looked at me in shock. “How did you
do
that? Mistress
never
gives in when she argues with a man!”

I shrugged. “Right now, I’m more concerned about
the fact that I’m in bed with a healthy young woman, and she’s horny. I can’t
let this continue.”

Now, I exercise, I’d like to think I’m charming,
and it looks like I’m not going to lose my hair. Still, when I reached my hand
down between her legs, I wasn’t ready for how
wet
Jeanette was.

“Oh god, please fuck me!” she begged.

I kissed her face. She was a good kisser. While I
continued to feel up her pussy (and she writhed and moaned), I moved myself
down her body to suck on her nipples. She gasped when my mouth first made
contact there.

After a while, I started to move down lower,
intending to eat her out, when she said, “
Later!
Right now I want your
meaty male cock in me!”

I obliged her. As soon as I put my cock in her, she
wrapped her legs around me and cried, “Oh god!”

She was wet and eager and vocal. She scratched my
back and she thrust her hips. She moaned, she grunted, and she screamed. And
did I mention, she was wet?

By the time I spurted, Jeanette had come four times
that I was sure of. As I was thrusting and gasping, she grabbed my head and
kissed me like a leech. “Oh, I can feel you come in me, I made you feel good,
you made me feel good. Tim, you are such a real man, you’re my man-lover.” All
the time she was talking, she kept trying to also kiss me.

Eventually I rolled off her and onto the bed.
Jeanette pushed my shoulder to roll me onto my back. “I have to clean your
cock,” she said with a smile.

She cleaned my cock with her lips and tongue. She
did such a thorough job cleaning my cock, fifteen minutes after she started, I
was spurting again. Unlike Ashley, Jeanette didn’t deepthroat me, but she did
swallow me, so I was happy.

I really don’t enjoy eating out a pussy that I’ve
recently come in. I
really
don’t. But I’d promised Jeanette a
pussy-licking, so I manned up and ate her out. I figured she’d be used to such
a thing and get bored, but she screamed and thrashed when I licked her clit.

Minutes later, Jeanette and I were getting dressed.
She had been wearing a lot less than me, and so finished first. When I was
dressed and ready to leave the bedroom, I found her kneeling on the floor, her
heels pressing the door shut.

She looked at me and said quietly, “If you tell me
to come with you when you leave, I will. I will be your slave from now on, if
you command me so.”

“But you are Ashley’s slave.”

“But you bested her when you two argued tonight.
You dominated her. You deserve to claim me.”

I said, “You mean all this as a compliment to me,
so thank you. But Deborah’s boyfriend stole from my father, so I wasn’t willing
to forgive the debt, and that’s the
only
reason I have a slave.
Jeanette, believe me, I don’t wake up each morning wishing that I had more
slaves.”

She sighed. “Which is one of the things that makes
you a good master.” She stood up and kissed me on the lips. Then she turned
away and opened the bedroom door.

Ashley, with Jeanette trailing behind, walked me to
the front door. Ashley put her hand on my arm, the only time she had touched me
all evening (if you didn’t count digging my cock out of my pants to blow me).
Ashley said, “I ask you to put me in your next commercial.”

“I’ll see,” I replied.

I shook Ashley’s hand, then glanced past her to
Jeanette, who was watching me closely. “Goodnight, you two,” I said, and left.