Secrets of The New World Order Ch. 03

Sarah's heart swelled with pride as she heard her mother speak so open and rationally about what has become 'a woman's place in life'...she wanted to share with her what Pizza-Face makes her do at work, but decided against it...for now.

"One thing troubles me about your goals, though, dear..."

"What's that, mom?"

"Why do you think a college degree will help you so much? I haven't heard of ANY powerful women in this new world...what makes you think you can challenge men on their terms...and there won't be any repercussions from them?"

It was a question Sarah had been debating in her mind for some time.

"I've researched this on the internet, mom...there are still some uncensored sites where they profile strong, and important women---women you don't read about in the newspaper or see on Fox news...in fact, Johnny interviewed with one of these women today at All-American Hardware...I read her profile---she is an amazing woman...her mindset is work hard, be smarter than the men around you, and take shit from NO-ONE!"

"Hahaha...yes, dear, she does sound like an impressive woman! Did Johnny get the job?"

"HE DID, MOM!" she beamed. "He starts in the morning."

"REALLY? Good for him! What will he be doing?"

"He was a little vague on that...almost like he wasn't sure what his job was going to be..."

"You know, I had lunch with his mother last week---she's an amazing woman! She's become something of a 'rock-star' with all our friends...she was the first woman in town to sign a PA contract with a high-powered man...of course, at first she was somewhat ostracized and shunned by the other women...but as soon as everyone woke-up to the 'new realities' of life, well, we're all very proud of Judith for what she has done for her family!"

"Well, I don't think Johnny has quite come to accept his mother's new role...he's still kind of a prude, you know..."

"I think it's more difficult for a son to picture his mother with another man than it is for the daughter...I'm sure he'll be able to cope with it fairly soon...c'mon, dear, you have one more costume, right?"

My mother helped me with the low-cut, pink lace brassiere; the flimsy material barely contained my breasts. I slid into the sheer, pink panties and pulled them tight against my pussy. My wispy, blonde pubes, and the outline of the folds of my sex clearly, and quite starkly visible.

"OH MY GOD, DEAR!" exclaimed my mother when she stared between my legs. "You look like that poor girl who does the news on channel eight!"

I looked down and saw my pussy-lips bulging out the crotch of my panties and had to agree with her.

"I know...it's hard to believe that girl would expose herself like that before millions of people..." I said.

I heard my mother chuckle then she said sardonically, "Sweetheart, people who live in glass houses---or should I say, see-thru panties---shouldn't throw stones---or spread their legs!"

I laughed...mom never allowed me to get away with either bull-shit or hypocrisy.

"Yeah, I know it has to be a man's idea to make her show herself like that, it looks so gross that a woman wouldn't do it on her own...but still...." I said.

"They make her do it for the ratings, dear, just one more example of how the mindless men in this country have willingly been transformed into oinking and squealing pigs---not that they weren't that way before!"

We shared another hearty laugh.

She began clicking-away; she directed me in a number of innocent sitting and standing poses then suggested I lay on the bed.

"That's it, dear---open your legs slightly...good girl...now play with your breasts---yes, that 's good, dear...ruffle your hair---make it look like you're coming up for air after going down on Johnny!"

"MOTHER!" I exclaimed, and we both laughed again.

"Now dear, place your feet flat on the bed---yes, good---now wider apart---wider---wider---Oh my God, you should see yourself----you're going to earn a fortune! Now reach into the panties and open your lips for the camera!"

"MOTHER---THAT'S GROSS!"

"Sweetheart, if you're going to do this---do it right! Show all the piggies what it is you're offering them...oh nice, dear---very nice...you just made every man seeing these photos cum in his shorts!"

I laughed and she joined-in.

"Oh mother," I said, "I love you so much!"

"I love you with all my heart, my sweet darling, baby girl!" she said even though her heart-ached and felt like it was breaking into a million pieces.

"Did you watch the video clip I sent you?" Mr. Mellon asked me.

"Yes, sir, " I replied.

On their previous evening's newscast, Fox news had taken their blonde-bimbo, Megyn, out from behind the desk and sat her in the same-type, upright chair I have been using.

The one difference between our newscasts now, was the Fox news girl wore no panties...her legs would be closed then on cue she would slowly open them until it became a full-on, bare-beaver shot for what appeared to be a two-count then slowly she'd close her legs again.

I was mortified the moment I saw it...I figured I'd too have to do my show sans panties.

"That bastard Rupert stole my idea..." he said, showing no sign of anger. "...and did me one better!"

"Sir, you're the innovative genius in this business---I know you'll think of something to top him!" said Miss Bevis standing nearby.

"Hon, I'll let you kiss my ass later—-right now I have to fight fire-with-fire!" he said to her.

"Take off your blouse and bra!" he instructed me.

OH NO---is he going to make me read the news topless?

When I was bare from the waist-up I timidly asked, Panties, too?"

"No...I think Rupert went too far there...men like a little mystery to fuel their imaginations!"

I breathed a sigh of relief.

He took the garments from me and gave me a halter top to wear...a very small and tight halter top. My breasts crushed against the thin material.

"Much better!" he declared.

I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror...short-short skirt and a tiny top with a bare midriff---I looked like a well-endowed, teenage tramp! The only thing missing were pigtails.

Then came three sharp raps on the dressing room door. "FIVE MINUTES TO SHOWTIME, LIPS!" shouted Freddie the Stagehand.

"OKAY, THANKS!" I yelled back. I no longer protested my nickname.

Then Mr. Mellon said sternly: "A very important man will be on stage, watching the show with me...he is the Director of Region Eight---the most powerful man you'll ever come in contact with...he wants to meet you...after the show you will go with him...you will be on your best behavior---you will do whatever he wants---you will obey him just as you do me---do you understand"

I knew it was only a matter of time before he pimped me out to another man, it was in the contract I signed. BUT I never thought it would be to one of the most powerful and influential men in the country...for some reason, I was looking forward to meeting the man.

"What's his name, Sir?" I asked.

"That's none of your concern...you'll address him as 'Sir'---unless he tells you otherwise---understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I replied.

He looked at his watch and said to Miss Bevis, "It's time."

Miss Bevis came right up to me, put her arms around me and pulled me into her. She then kissed me hard on the lips. I tried to pull away but she ominously stared into my eyes and warned, "Don't fight me, bitch or I'll have 'Sir' make you blow all the stagehands!"

I relaxed and let her have her way. She mashed her breasts into mine; she kissed me deeply, our tongues melded together. I had no clue why she was doing this at this time---minutes before my newscast but I knew I wasn't allowed to resist.

Her skillful hands kneaded my breasts; I gave into her soft, warm lips and kissed her back; my long and thick nipples were hard as diamonds; she dropped one hand and began stroking my thighs.

"Open your legs!" she ordered.

I obeyed and she cupped my sex in her hand and lightly rubbed me thru the sheer panties. I began to moisten; my yellow panties dampened.

"Let's go!" I heard Mr. Mellon say.

Miss Bevis took my hand and led me out of the dressing room and directly on stage to the high-chair. A few strands of hair on my head were out of place and I moved to straighten them but she stopped me and said, "You look beautiful just like that, dear!"

I heard the director counting down, "FIVE-FOUR---" Miss Bevis moved offstage. "THREE-TWO-ONE---ACTION!"

I managed to read the teleprompter thru glazed eyes; my head was swirling and dizzy.

When I saw the director open his fist, I automatically followed the script and slowly spread my legs...only then did I understand the meaning of the woman's actions---when my legs were fully opened, I knew all of America could see my excitement---the dampened crotch of my panties, and not only that, but my stiff nipples threatened to burst thru the flimsy material of the tiny halter top, as well.

If I was still capable of feeling those emotions, I would have absolutely died of shame and humiliation!

The first segment seemed to go on forever. A wave of relief washed over me when I saw the director counting me down to the first commercial break. I managed to time it perfectly.

"AND WE'RE OUT," he shouted.

I took a deep gulp of air, but before I knew it, Miss Bevis was standing before me. She pulled me off the stool and kissed me. Her hands wasted no time in finding their intended targets.

A moan of helpless desperation escaped my throat. Mr. Mellon's plan was painfully obvious to me now---Miss Bevis would keep me in a state of arousal for the entire newscast.

"FIVE-FOUR..." She moved offstage. "THREE-TWO-ONE---ACTION!"

I tried hard to concentrate on what I was reading. Since all I did was read the teleprompter, I never knew what stories I'd be 'reporting.'

There seemed to me to be an over-abundant use of the words TERROR and TERRORISTS and ISIS and AL QUEDA...at least more than usual.

When the director gave me the sign and I opened my legs I could feel the dampness had spread on my yellow panties. In all sincerity, I literally envisioned millions of men across America opening their pants and taking out their hard schlongs and begin stroking them.

The next commercial break came and Miss Bevis performed her ministrations once again. By the time we returned on-air, I was breathing heavily and my nipples were now painfully hard. I found myself hoping the director would give me the signal so I could feel cool air between my legs.

By the time the final commercial break came, I was beside myself with lust and desire. I had figured out what Mr. Mellon's intentions had been: after each break, I would increasingly appear more disheveled, and out of breath. He wanted every man in the country to fantasize I was playing with myself; that during the commercials I was masturbating!

By the time the director gave me the countdown for the last segment, Miss Bevis had successfully managed to get the entire crotch of my panties glistening wet; she had vigorously tousled and ruffled my hair so when the camera went 'live' it gave the allusion I had either climaxed, or was very close to it (which was the absolute truth!).

I pictured millions of hard-on's squirting gobs of semen and sperm straight up in the air when I spread my legs. I had to fight the urge to finish myself-off. I had never been so thankful as when the director yelled, "AND WE'RE OUT!"and the huge and hot overhead lighting went dark.

Miss Bevis helped me off the stool and ushered me to where I saw Mr. Mellon and a another man standing. I knew he had to be The Director of Region Eight, the man who would be fucking me tonight, and I searched his face and body for any redeeming qualities that would arouse me into actually 'wanting' to fuck him.

There were none---he was bald, fat and ugly...why are most powerful men either bald or fat or ugly---or all three? I asked myself.

"Sir, this is Jennifer," said Mr. Mellon to the man.

For Mr. Mellon to address him as 'Sir'---I KNEW he was a powerful man!

"A pleasure to meet you, Sir!" I said feeling his sweaty hand in mine.

OH GOOD, I thought sarcastically, he's a glandular case, too!

He smiled and almost appeared to blush as he oh-so delicately shook my hand.

He remained silent as the redness spread across his face.

Oh my God, I thought. What do we have here---A SHY MAN?---THAT'S INCREDIBLE!

His eyes dropped to stare at my boobs and I took the occasion to look down at his crotch.

YES, my mind shouted. He had a sizable bulge in his expensive slacks. Is that a spot of pre-cum I see?

I was so worked-up from the newscast I wanted to reach down and measure his cock with my hand. I was hoping he'd take me back to my dressing room and fuck me immediately, but no such luck....

"I'll leave you two alone so you can get acquainted..." said Mr. Mellon. "The only thing I ask of you, Sir, is to bring her back tomorrow before her show!"

Mr. Mellon laughed then he and Miss Bevis left us standing there alone.

There was an awkward pause before he finally spoke.

"Um, uh, Miss McBride, I was wondering if, uh, maybe you'd like to join me for dinner?"

"That would be wonderful," I said with a huge smile. Lying to men had become second-nature to me now, but in this case, I really did want to get to know him.

In the backseat of his limo, he sat on one side and I on the other side. This man truly was shy! I wondered how to get him out of his shell.

Suddenly, he asked: "Would you like some champagne, Miss McBride?"

"I absolutely adore champagne, Sir, yes I would like some...and please---please call me Jennifer, Sir!"

"OH---okay then--'Jennifer,'" he said with a nervous laugh.

There was a small fridge against the front seat and I watched his trembling hands find the bottle (it had already been uncorked) then his attempt to fill our glasses; he spilled some on the floor.

He was about to sip when I said, "Here's to meeting you, Sir,!" and raised my glass for a toast.

I took the opportunity to move over to him until our thighs were touching. We clinked glasses and drank.

I looked at the glass partition separating us from the driver: it was very dark for privacy, the driver couldn't see us.

This man was so shy I wondered if I should make the first move. My heart began racing when I decided 'to-go-for-it'---Mellon was right about one thing: this was probably the most important man I'd ever meet in my life...and I'd better take advantage of my opportunity.

I placed my hand on his upper thigh and felt him flinch; I slowly squeezed and stroked his thigh and forced a catch in his throat.

"Sir, I'm sorry...I don't mean to be so bold, but I thought I felt a connection with you from the moment we met!" I lied with the most sincerity I could manage.

"I---um, oh, it's okay Miss---I mean 'Jennifer'...I know what you mean...I was mesmerized by your newscast tonight!" he said in a soft, stammering voice.

I'LL BET YOU WERE!! I thought. I leaned-over and kissed his cheek. His face was as sweaty as his hand---he tasted of salt and English Leather.

"Ooooo, that's so sweet of you to say...." I cooed.

I teasingly slid my hand very slowly from his thigh to his crotch. My open palm brushed over his erection; his hips jerked and I heard him gasp.

My fingers found his hardness and traced the outline back-and-forth in his slacks.

He moaned and his hips began moving in time with my hand. I had to make an instant decision...any more of this and he'd cum in his slacks and I didn't want to risk embarrassing him.

I licked and gently nipped his ear lobe then thrust my tongue inside his ear and in a throaty, hot-air whisper I murmured: "Please, Sir---please let me take it out and suck it for you---I promise I'll suck it good for you---pleeeezzzzz....okay?"

He could barely speak; all he managed was a breathless "ohhh---okay"

I was delighted to find a thick and sturdy piece of meat---somewhat above average...I stroked it twice then dove down and took it in my mouth. I decided to make short-work of him, and in less than two-minutes he repeatedly filled my mouth with his warm gruel and I swallowed down every drop he gave me..it didn't taste as bad as I thought it would.

Once his body calmed down and his breathing returned to normal I cleaned his soft penis and pubic area with my tongue.

When I sat upright I whispered in his ear: "Would you like me to hold your balls?"

"Ohhhhhh..." he groaned, "...yes, please...."

We rode the rest of the way in silence. A curious sense of hope and purpose washed over me. I was bound and determined to give this rich and powerful man the greatest night of sexual satisfaction he had ever experienced.