From: bobandcarole@aol.com   
      
   Story: The Way - (Mf, Ff, Oral, Mast, Ped)   
      
   by bobandcarole   
      
         You take one last look at your mom. She flips a tuft of your curly   
      
   blonde hair as you near the building. You hate the frilly white dress   
   and white stockings that your mom has made you wear today. Like most   
   youngsters you prefer bright colors but you understand that this is the   
      
   way. Your mom even chose the panties that you were to wear today. As   
   everything else on your small frame, they are white nylon underwear   
   that   
   have only a bit of cotton covering the crotch. Each side is tied with a   
      
   perfect little bow. Your mother explained that white was a sign of   
   purity and it was required attire for such an important occasion as   
   this. You feel like a little china-doll from a box at the department   
   store. "Remember," your mother tells you as you walk together.   
   "Remember," she says, "when they ask for your name, you have none   
   because it no longer matters." You look at your mother with confusion   
   in   
   your young eyes. "Do you understand?"   
      
         You look at her and say, "Yes mother." But of course you do not   
   understand. Yesterday you were 11 and today you are 12. The world   
   around   
   you, like your preteen body is changing rapidly. Just last year you   
   were   
   tomboy, just one of the guys so to speak. If you talked to a grown man   
   or even a boy a little older, they wouldn't give you the time of day.   
   Lately though, things have changed. You have noticed your hips flaring   
   into a more woman like figure and your breasts have begun to bud   
   nicely.   
   Also, where you once had no hair, a dusting of light hair has cropped   
   up. It looks like your pubic area will be a honey blonde color. Not   
   only   
   have you noticed the changes in your body, men seem to have noticed it   
   also. It is easy to get the attention of a man now. All it takes is a   
   movement, a look or a flash of skin and they are like putty in your   
   hands. You really didn't mean for things to turn out like this, but   
   since it has, you have learned to take advantage of it.   
      
         You feel ashamed as you think of the fact that even your father   
   and   
   your brothers have been looking at you different lately. It is odd, yet   
      
   strangely exciting to give one of them a quick flash of panties or bend   
      
   over just right. You can feel their eyes burning into your chest as you   
      
   innocently bend over and give him a flash of your puffy nipple. It   
   makes   
   you feel so grown up and in control. And it is not just the men in your   
      
   family. Strangers too have seemed to be paying more attention to you.   
   It   
   makes you feel so naughty, although you don't understand why. So many   
   changes, so many things to think about and so little time. You catch   
   yourself start to ask her a question but you stop, knowing that this is   
      
   not the way.   
      
         The heels of your black patent leather pumps clack with the rhythm   
      
   of your heartbeat as you walk up the concrete steps. The shoes are the   
   ones your mom wore when she was "initiated". This makes you stand   
   taller   
   and you can feel the muscles in your butt cheeks tighten. You feel much   
      
   more grownup than you did yesterday. There is an excitement, but yet a   
   foreboding in your body as you prepare for your membership. It is your   
   first time, you know that it won't be your last, because once inducted,   
      
   you are in for life. You have waited for this moment for what seems   
   like   
   an eternity. It is the day that your mommy and daddy will have you   
   "initiated" into the club. You don't know exactly what the club   
   entails,   
   or what the club does, you just know that whatever it is, you have been   
      
   told that you must be willing to do whatever is necessary to get in.   
      
         Like your mother, sisters, aunts and all of the other women in   
   your   
   family, your 12th birthday is the day that women are admitted. Your   
   grandfather, grandmother, mother, father and all of the other women and   
      
   men in your family have been members. You have wanted to be a member   
   since you first heard it mentioned at 5.   
      
         For reasons that will become clear later, men become members from   
   birth. Their initiation happens at their circumcision, which is also   
   done by a physician under the direction of the club. At times you think   
      
   this is unfair, but you don't voice your opinion because that would   
   make   
   daddy angry. Involuntarily you shiver as you imagine your father   
   getting   
   angry with you. Your daddy loves his girls more than anything in the   
   world, but he is very strict and he doesn't allow his girls to backtalk   
   him.   
      
         Mom ushers you into a room and you take a deep breath as you   
   remove   
   your snow-white jacket and set it on the seat. You adjust it and set on   
      
   top of it and wait. You take a quick scan of the room. It too is done   
   in   
   white. Everything in the room is white. The chairs, the walls, the   
   cabinet against the wall are white. Even the desk in the corner is   
   white. The soft light keeps it from glaring but the lack of color still   
      
   is not what you would prefer. You want to speak, to ask questions, but   
   that is not allowed. Your little hands shake in anticipation of your   
   "initiation". Your mind moves at a hundred miles an hour as you try to   
   imagine what the big secret could be. You tremble in the anticipation   
   that you will soon find out.   
      
         The door opens and you turn your head to see who it is. It is a   
   man   
   in a white coat, a man who looks like a doctor of some sort. "Hello   
   ladies," he says as he walks into the room and sits behind the large   
   desk close to the wall. His eyes burn into you as you sit beside your   
   mother. Steel blue eyes, unlike any eyes that you have ever seen look   
   at   
   you, almost searching your mind. It kind of frightens you, yet the   
   smile   
   he has is disarming. "Pretty," he mumbles as he looks at you and then   
   his chart. "What's your name little girl?"   
      
         You want to answer, you want to tell him but before you say   
   anything, you feel a sharp burning pain in your arm. You grimace and   
   stifle a word of protest, but understand the warning from your mother.   
   Her fingers have stayed clamped on the soft part of your arm as if to   
   remind you that you are not to answer questions verbally. You hang your   
      
   head instead, deciding to say nothing. The doctor grins and nods in   
   approval. "I see she understands the rules," he tells your mother. She   
   says nothing either, instead nods and smiles at the man.   
      
         After what seems like a sea of silence, the man stands and walks   
   from behind his desk. He is a tall man with sandy colored hair. He is   
   built nothing like your father, who is smaller in stature, but is built   
      
   like a large oak tree. He is much different than your daddy, yet there   
   is something familiar. Perhaps it's the smile or perhaps it's his   
   manner. Whatever it is, it commands your total obedience. So disarming   
   is this stranger's manner that you feel like you have known him all   
   your   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)