Stephanie had lived on the vineyard her parents owned for most of her childhood years. As it was a large estate she didn't have anyone to interact with other than her younger sister, Sally. They were taught primary schooling from their Mother and took tests by mail. However, for a high school education at the time Stephanie was ready, the only option was to go to boarding school so her parents selected the best girls college in the city, about 400 kilometers from their house. She packed all her things and was taken to her new school feeling unsure about what to expect. When she arrived, she was greeted by a pretty young teacher who helped her to her room. For the first year, all the new girls shared a supervised dorm so the got to know each other. Stephanie felt strangely comfortable in her new surroundings, and she enjoyed her classes. The only thing that bugged her a bit were the uniforms. She was used to jeans and tee shirts at home, now she had to ware a pleated skirt knee-high stockings a satin blouse and jacket with a purple silk scarf. The school even had matching lingerie that the girls had to ware. They could choose between bra and panties with suspenders, french-knickers with camisoles or teddies, but they always had to be wearing them. Stephanie didn't think much of it at first, but in her second year at the school she was put in an unsupervised room with a girl two years ahead of her. This was when her real education began.nnThe older girl, Natalie, told Stephanie that she was a lesbian. She knew what that meant of-course, but she didn't know why Natalie told her, so she inquired. Natalie said that after three years at 'Queen Victoria Girls College' she couldn't be anything else.nn"You see Steph, at this school, the only time we get to see the outside world is at Christmas, so for the other 11 months we only have each other."nnShe was right, Stephanie hadn't realised but she only left for one month over the holidays, that didn't mean they had school the whole time, just that the other breaks came in the school grounds. She didn't mind that Natalie was gay, actually she liked it.

We be getting all kinds of freaky in the hood! Most folks don't know about our shit and that's the way we want to keep it. The hood is full of freaks. Men and women who do all kinds of things. Men and women who are the world's most prominent sexual dynamos and freaks. They get down in ways normal folks cannot fathom. The truth is that a lot of people from the hood are leading double lives. Yeah, it's like that. This is one of those stories, folks. The truth about freaks from the hood. It's about to get all misty in here, folks. Don't say you weren't warned.nnWe've got Leila, a big Black woman who likes white bitches. This six-foot-three, plain-faced, large-breasted, wide-hipped and big-bottomed Black lesbian is known as the Black Dyke, the Butch of Dorchester. Her chick of the month is Kim, a red-haired, lily-white chick from Dorchester. Leila paid her bitch a visit. Kim has to do the duties of a hood bitch. She's got to keep her man's house clean, even though her man is really a woman who acts like a man. Leila is the Butch of Dorchester. She gets all the pussy she wants, and then some.

Chapter Two MelaniennI was waiting for Stephanie at the diner, reading the local newscast on my datapad. There was some story about a local store owner having gone missing, Jack someone. I was so bored. No, that's not quite right. I was so sex starved. Since Rob was transferred to Halifax, I had not had sex at all. I hated the dating scene. It usually took me months to just be willing to go out on dates each time I find myself unattached. In High School I never did, too embarrassed to even try to talk to some guy. Hell, Rob had been a 'fix me up' by me girl friends.nn"Mel! There you are," Stephanie called out. I waved at her. She practically skipped over to the table. She looked at me with a strange expression on her face. Sitting, she asked, "Do you have any idea what you look like? No, of course not. Mel, you look like you dying for a good fuck."nn"Steph! Someone will hear you.

Tanya knocked on the door, waiting for Erica to answer. She had butterflies in her stomach as she heard the footsteps coming closer to the door. She wasn't sure if she could, or should continue with the thing she had come here for. Erica was a lesbian, and Tanya had come here for sex.nnErica had been working with Rick for six weeks. He suspected she was at least bisexual, if not fully lesbian. Her mannerisms were "Boy's Club" professional, almost to the point of masculine, despite her physical appearance that screamed "Femme Fatale". He had picked up on little looks here and there that suggested an interest in women, though she had never said anything directly. Slender body, and perfect breasts, her long blonde hair neatly coiffed to accentuate her incredible green eyes, Erica belonged in the pages of Playboy, not a small company in a backwater town. For some unknown reason, she had chosen to settle here instead of a city like New York or Los Angeles; places she had lived before and been very successful.nnRick had invited her out for dinner and drinks with he and his wife Tanya. It was an invitation meant to bring her into the fold at the office. Her incredible beauty had caused the male employees to shy away from her, and the female employees had begun rumors out of sheer jealousy. Erica needed to be included, and if Rick and Tanya both befriended her, others would fall in line without starting rumors of an affair.nnErica met them at the restaurant, and held her handshake with Tanya a little longer than would be considered normal. She gazed into Tanya's eyes with an interest that intrigued Rick, and mesmerized Tanya. Her green, cat-like eyes were seductive, eyes that held your attention with their sheer brilliance and beauty.nn"Hi, I'm Erica." She said calmly, professionally,. seductively.

Sara Evans:nnSex: FemalennAge: 37 yearsnnFigure: Soft-contoured, smooth-toned, very desirable and perfectly femininennComplexion: Heavily tannednnVoice: MusicalnnFace: Nymphish, flushed, round and smooth in contours nnEyes: Heavy-lidded, long-lashed, large and turquoisennHair: Silken, soft, abundant, black and curls down to assnnBust: 41DD, round, lop-sided and firmnnNipples: Light brown and puffynnWaist: 28nnHips: 42, wide-curvednnAss: Soft and massivennThighs: Smooth-toned and fatnn*nnV (Full name unknown):nnSex: FemalennAge: 25 yearsnnFigure: Soft-contoured, smooth-toned, voluptuous and desirably femininennComplexion: BlacknnVoice: High-pitchednnFace: Pretty, oval and full in cheeksnnEyes: Long-lashed, slightly slanted, large and blacknnHair: Thin, straight, black and hangs down to waistnnBust: 36DDD, round, slightly pendulous and firmnnNipples: Dark brown and protrudentnnWaist: 27nnHips: 39, wide-curvednnAss: Soft and bignnThighs: Soft-contoured and fatnnOrientation: LesbiannnRelation with J: SisternnRole as babe-hunter: Accomplice to Jnn*nnJ (Full name unknown):nnSex: FemalennAge: 28 yearsnnFigure: Smooth-toned, muscular, slim and slightly curvednnComplexion: BlacknnVoice: High-pitchednnFace: Pretty, oval and depressed in cheeks nnEyes: Slightly slanted, large, restless and blacknnHair: Short, thin, straight and hangs down to napennBust: 32C, round and firmnnWaist: 25nnHips: 34, slightly curvednnThighs: Soft-toned and mildly roundnnOrientation: LesbiannnRelation with V: SisternnRole as babe-hunter: MastermindnnSara Evans opened her eyes and moaned as the pain radiated through her over-stretched pectoral muscles. Her beautiful face contorted in reflex and she blinked into semi-darkness. The smell of damp wood hit her nostrils as she tried to look around. Everything about the place seemed strange and intimidating. Still lying on bed, she made a faint attempt to shift herself and realized instantly that each of her four limbs could not be moved. Something of coarse texture strained into her wrists and ankles as she tried to move them close. Frowning at this she rose a little and looked over to right. For some awful moments she stared at the rope which was wound around the wrist to keep her arm tied to bedpost. She turned her head instantly to left and saw that her other arm was treated in exactly the same way.nnIt felt ridiculous, yet alarming to see her arms tied to bedposts. She was known to be a sober-minded woman in her neighborhood and none of the person she knew could ever think of making such an absurd joke on her. It was indeed pointless for a mother of three like Sara to be treated like this but most alarming thing was that she had been tied on bed in an unfamiliar room. That pungent smell about the place didn't belong to her home.nnShe shivered in cold as a current of breeze swooped in the room. It seemed to pierce through her skin and she tried to pull her legs together. The strain of rope at ankles made her to look down. The sight was a good reason to add up to alarm. She stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Not only was she tied to bed but someone had stripped her naked.nnSo that wasn't joke.

I'm tired! I hate mornings, for that matter I hate evenings to.nnI hate him!nnWho?nnMy husband of course??¦.HATE! HATE!nnWhy?nnBecause, I'm an irrational, spiteful bitch. BITCH! BITCH! BITCH!nnIf I'm the bitch, why do I hate my husband, it can't be his fault can it? Why can't it be his fault he's alive isn't he. Not that I want him dead, god forbid that, but if he'd never been born, then I could not hate him. Perhaps, if he'd been born a woman, maybe I'd understand him. I don't understand men, men are strange, but then again, I don't even understand myself.nn"I don't like you Doctor Samuel!" I'd like to tell him, I hate you Doctor Samuel, but I'm afraid of Doctor Samuel, did I tell you I'm afraid of my husband? A wife shouldn't be afraid of her husband, should she?

Jane awoke, alone. Abigail had clearly disappeared sometime in the past couple of hours or so. Jane guessed that the rules for lesbians were no different for heterosexual encounters, but she did miss being able to lie here with the first woman she had had sex with and maybe have breakfast or brunch together. Jane then thought about Tori. Of course, her encounter with her had only been in a dream, not reality and in actuality she may have behaved very different. Jane picked up the little note Abigail had left, 'J, thank you Mistress, your servant, A'. It was clear that Abigail had a clear take on sexuality and was out for someone to direct her. Whilst this had been fine and probably, Jane realised, had lifted some of the pressure on herself to perform perfectly, she did not feel it was something she could sustain beyond a few hours. Maybe that was why Abigail had left so early. Of course, Jane could go back to the club or any other and find another one-night stand. She certainly did not have to worry about getting pregnant as a result. However, she realised, that while it was clear, even if she had not known it before, that sex with women was what got her off, she was coming to understand that what she was needing was a girlfriend; someone not just to wake up with after great sex, but to spend the whole day with.nnWas that unusual? Was that not what millions of women in London were searching for? Well, they might not be searching for a girlfriend of course. Jane idly began thinking about the odds. She had gone from searching a pool of five million men, of course many of whom would be too old, too young, married, etc., but anyway there must be five million men in London, to a pool of one-in-ten women who were lesbians. That meant, say five hundred thousand women that would be interested in a female sexual partner. Out of these, of course, again, many would be too old, too young, these days even married or okay, in a civil partnership.