The Engagement Party-Epilogue Part 1
By Wanderer
What happened after the engagement party


This is adult material. Please do not read if you are under age 21 or laws in
your country forbid you to do so. Any similarity to actual persons, living or
dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental.

Earlier parts of this story may be found on the Wanderer bookshelf. They are
"Who's In the Closet Now?" Parts 1, 2, and 3, "We're Back In the Closet
Again," Parts 1 and 2, and "The Engagement Party," Parts 1 to 5.

Copyright 2002 by Wanderer

What a ride! It was four years since my sister Maddy had married James
Pettigrew Witherington III, and joined one of America's richest families. We
had all been surprised. It was really a very quiet wedding. After all the
excitement we had during the courtship and before the engagement party none of
us believed the wedding would go smoothly, but smooth it was. Naturally the
ceremony was held at the Witherington estate, it was really the only place in
the area big enough to accommodate the twelve hundred guests (23 of which were
ours, including me and my mother and father). Of course the governor was
there, and the president had expected to attend, but the Mideast crisis had
required his immediate attention. However he did send his wife as he was
mindful of the political contributions needed for his re-election campaign.

My sister Maddy looked gorgeous as the bride, and I have to say her maid of
honor and my tormentress, Janice, also looked stunning. At eighteen years of
age she had become a beautiful woman, and any man would have been fortunate to
be with her, it was just that she was so controlling it galled me. Who wants
to get slapped around by an eighteen year old? And the fact that she could do
it because she proved to be stronger than I was didn't help the relationship.

But I digress. My sister Maddy behaved herself, and she said 'I do' when she
was supposed to say 'I do.' Her wedding gown was stunning. It emphasized her
small waist, and it tastefully covered her shoulders because she didn't want
her striated delts and heavy trapezius causing a lot of gossip, but she didn't
do much about covering her bosom, and it was a riot watching the male guests
standing in line to dance with her, all with boners in their pants. Even the
governor eyed her thoughtfully.

So it was little wonder that the newlyweds left at the earliest reasonable
opportunity. No one noticed much, there was so much Verve Cliquot champagne
and hard liquor floating around, except the guys standing in line with the big
boners. But then Jim's sister Janice wasn't a bad substitute. She wasn't as
built as my sister, but she looked stunningly beautiful today, and it kept me
out of her clutches, since I wanted to pack up my belongings and get the hell
out of there.

Maddy and my college roommate Jim retired to their new digs. They didn't have
far to go as Mr. Witherington II had deeded them sixty acres on the northwest
corner of the Witherington estate and built them a palatial mansion, although
it was really a modest cottage if you want to compare it to the Witherington
main house. Their new "cottage" only had thirty-two rooms, with thirty-three
bathrooms, an Olympic size indoor swimming pool, a fully equipped weight room
(that was at my sister's insistence), an eight car garage (for the two of
them). I kidded her about how could she live in such modest accommodations,
and her reply was "That's all right, someday I'll be moving up to the
Witherington mansion," and of course that was true.

So, as I said, Jim and my sister left the wedding party as soon as it was
socially correct to do so. Although daddy and Mrs. Witherington II had gifted
them with an around-the-world tour as a honeymoon present, in addition to
their modest thirty-two room cottage, they had a couple days before the ship
left, so they were glad to get all the engagement and wedding hubbub behind
them and spend a quiet couple days together. Of course, it wasn't like this
was going to be their initial foray into sex because my sister Maddy had taken
my college roommate to bed many times before, not that I ever saw him object
any. When he came to visit me that first summer vacation at our home out west
she would carry him up to her room whenever the mood struck her, and I didn't
exactly see him struggling to escape her clutches. He was always in awe of her
strength-indeed, that's one of the things that attracted him to her-that, and
hell, let's be honest, her 48DD chest didn't do anything to drive him away.
Jim's sister, Janice, didn't have the dimensions of my sister Maddy, but her
experience with horses and work around the horse barn had made her one strong
woman, and she taught me early not to disobey her. I mean, she made me her
first sexual experience, and I was delighted to be making it with a virgin,
but she was insatiable, me being her first experience, and soon I was begging
her to stop, but you think she listened to me? Hell, no! She did me in, so
after a while I just tried to avoid her, even if she was a good fuck. I mean,
I wanted to be in charge sometimes, but she never let me. So I was glad when I
could finally escape her clutches after my sister's wedding. A man can take
just so much, you know.

But Jim, now, that was another story. If he thought that things would be
different after his marriage to my sister he was in for a surprise. He told me
later that when they got to the door of their new home and he bent down to do
the traditional carry your bride over the threshold thing he found himself up
in the air, a beaming Maddy smiling at his as she held him effortlessly in her
muscular arms. "Just because I said 'I do' doesn't mean I will," she said to
him, he told me later. Then she kicked open the door to their new home,
carried him up the stairs, and raped the hell out of him all night long.

"I love it," he told me, "but she exhausts me, I needed that around-the- world
trip to recover, but she never left me alone, I need to get to work so I can
get some rest," he said, half in jest and half serious.

So after their six month around-the-world honeymoon trip Jim went to work at
the family's Fortune 500 company as an executive vice president. Naturally,
being his brother-in-law and his college roommate and getting my MBA when he
got his, I also got a job with his company, but I could only start as a senior
vice president. However, the starting mid six figure salary more than made up
for any assault to my ego having to start as only a senior vice president. And
the perqs of the job more than made up for any imaginary slight. Executive
lunch room, country club membership, key to the executive washroom, and hell,
I had my pick of the secretary pool, and sine the Witherington company paid
well there were some stunning women working there. I picked out a babe,
twenty-one years old, just out of college, ex cheerleader, ex gymnast, man,
what she could do with her body defies description. Along about age fourteen
she got too tall for gymnastics, but she had had enough, she had ten years of
it, and she didn't forget a thing. She really couldn't type much so I got
another woman out of the secretary pool to do the typing and I made the
gymnast, name of Gretchen, my personal assistant. And assist me personally she
surely did. If I got bored or horny in the middle of the day I'd call her on
the intercom: "Oh, Gretchen, may I see you for a minute, please?"

"Certainly, Mr. Thomas," she'd say, in her sweet voice. She'd come into my
office, close the Venetian blinds and wrap herself around me. Needless to say,
she got very nice Christmas bonuses.

Meantime, I saw my brother-in-law Jim every day, his office was on the
executive vice-president level, one floor above me, my sister Maddy often as
she and Jim would try to fix me up with this debutante or that, and Janice
only on holidays like Christmas or during her summer vacation since she was
away at college, the same one Jim and I had gone to. She'd try to corner me,
but I'd beg off on some excuse. I didn't have to stay overnight at the
Witherington mansion, like I'd had to do before the engagement party, because
I had my own home nearby, and Janice always looked disappointed, I guess maybe
she still had the hots for me, me being her first love, and all.

One day, four years after I got my job with the Witherington company, I'm
sitting in my office, feet propped up on the desk, alternating idle thoughts
between my soon-to-be promotion to first senior vice president, and wondering
if I should call Gretchen in, dreaming about her ass and her bountiful chest
and her wrapping those long legs around me, when I noticed people rising and
sitting, rising, and sitting, in the work cubicles in front of me, something
like the wave at a college football game.

"What the hell is going on?" I'm thinking to myself.

Then this person comes into view, blocked by my personal assistant, Gretchen,
who sits just outside my door and acts as my receptionist.

"Just a min.." she starts to say, as she gets up to block this person who's
aiming straight for my office. Now I'm alarmed. Is it some vindictive person I
fired, I wonder? And I'm more worried when Gretchen gets slammed down into her
chair with such force the wheeled chair goes scooting across the floor with
Gretchen almost falling out the open window as her chair bumps into the far
wall.

Well, am I relieved when I see it's only Janice. She comes into my office and
starts closing the blinds.

"Hi, Janice," I say.

"Hello, Frank," she answers back, with a sharp tone to her voice. She sounds
mad, I'm thinking. What could she be mad about? Oh, I know, she just graduated
from our college and I forgot to get her a graduation gift. Damn, that was
stupid of me.

"Congratulations on your graduation, Jan," I say, "I've got a nice gift
waiting for you to get home," I lie.

"That's nice of you, Frank," Janice says, as she continues around the room
closing the blinds, "but what I want, now that I've graduated, is you."

Now what the hell does that mean, I'm thinking. "What the hell does that
mean?" I say to Janice.

"It means I've tried everybody at college," she says. "Football guys,
basketball guys, baseball guys, soccer guys, cheerleaders, nerds, even some
college professors, that really helped my grade point average, but you're
still the best fuck I've ever had. I dunno', maybe it was because you were my
first, but you're still the best, so I've decided on you."

"Wait a minute, Janice, don't I have a say in this?" I respond.

A look of surprise came over her face. "You think you have a say in it?" she
asked.

'I'm sorry," I said, "but I have an ongoing relationship with someone at the
present time."

"Yeah, I heard about it," she interrupted me, "what's her name, Gretcher, that
dolly out in front? I've already had her transferred to my office."

"Your---your---office?" I didn't understand. Was Janice now working in this
company? "Do---do---you work her now?"

"Of course, silly. You know I graduated from college yesterday. Today daddy
made me a junior executive vice president. He didn't want to put me at the
executive vice president level like brother Jim, who's already put in four
years here. I'm going to work here a few years to get some business experience
and then I'll go back to school for my MBA. In the meantime, since you're only
a senior vice president, I guess I outrank you, honey, so I think I'll have
you assigned to my division. You can show me some of the ropes, so I don't
have to bother dear old daddy every time. I think some day after daddy dies
I'll have to fight brother Jim for control of the company-I'll win, of
course-but your sister Maddy probably won't mind as Jim will have more time to
spend with her and the kids I'm sure they're going to have. Meanwhile I'll
just take my time and learn the ropes, with your help, of course, honey. How
many hours do we get for lunch? I think I'll just have you for dessert,
sweetheart," she giggled.

"That's not fair, Janice, I've been her four years, you can't just come in and
transfer my personal assistant or me on a whim."

"Well, I was thinking of making you MY personal assistant," Janice answered.
"So why would YOU need a personal assistant? Who ever heard of a personal
assistant having a personal assistant?" she giggled again.

"That---that's not fair, Janice," I repeated. Now I was getting considerably
worried.

"Oh, hell, what's fair?" she asked. "You've been screwing that poor girl out
front just because you can, just because you've got the power, so now I've got
the power-maybe I'll make both of you my personal assistants and I'll give you
both a screwing," she laughed.

"Look, Jan, I'm not going to be somebody's toy," I responded.

"Well, you're going to be my toy," she said. "You like your position? You like
your title? You like your mid six figure salary? You like your JOB? Or would
you prefer to work in the mail room?" she threatened. "Look, I'm going to need
something to relieve my boredom around here, and I like using you as my
personal plaything, just like I did when I first met you four years ago," she
answered.

"That was unusual," I said. "You were---er---stronger than I was at the time,
you---you took me by surprise."

"My, my, don't we have short memories," said Janice. "Somehow you just don't
remember my beating the hell out of you?" she asked.

"Well, I do remember your bad temper," I responded.

"Sonny boy, my temper hasn't gotten any better in four years," Janice said, a
little bit of sharpness now creeping into her tone.

"Please, Janice, things are different than they were four years ago. I don't
want to have to fight you again. Physical confrontation with a female is not
my style---"

"Well, I'm not going to give you a choice," said Janice. "Why do you think
I've closed the blinds?"

"I have to warn you, Janice," I said. "The thought of you overpowering me-
you, a woman, and only eighteen years old at that at the time-galled me all
these years. I determined that I was not going to let that happen to me again.
Truth be told, Janice, I've been working out with a trainer these past four
years, and now I'm physically capable of protecting myself. You know I always
was athletic, and with the aid of my trainer I've put ½" on my arms every
year. In the past four years I've brought my biceps from fourteen inches to
sixteen inches, and I've added twenty pounds of solid muscle. I've gone from
190 to 210. I'm pretty proud of that, and my trainer says no woman and very
few men would stand a chance against my new physique. That's not a threat. I
respect you as the sister-in-law of my sister, and the future co-owner of the
company that I work for. It's just a flat out-and-out statement of fact.
Again, for your own good, don't try to fight me again."

Janice started to approach me, a big smile on her face, and that worried me. I
started to back up a little. I couldn't help but take stock of the Janice that
I had been avoiding for four years. Somehow she looked more beautiful than
ever. Still those slim hips, wonderful legs that came from all that horseback
riding she had done in her childhood. She still had that lean and slender
look, but there were those same broad shoulders that came from moving all
those hay bales daily in the horse barn-were they even a little broader now,
or was that just my imagination? Always an elegant dresser-she certainly had
the money for it-she looked stunning today. Despite myself I could feel an
erection starting to take place within my pants. Slowly, she kept moving
towards me and I kept backing up, until before I realized it I had my back
against the wall. This would never do, I thought. I was falling back into my
old habits of four years ago. Afraid of a mere slip of a girl. I pushed myself
away from the wall, only to be roughly shoved back against it by Janice's
right hand. And she seemed to be pinning me there with only that one hand.

"Frank," Janice said, "I'm glad you've been working out. There's nothing I
appreciate more than a man with an athletic body. I've had them all, sweetie,
football players, basketball players, but they all seem to think that they own
me, that somehow because I bring them to my bedroom that they're entitled to
take possession of me, that I'm their property. What I liked about you, Frank,
is you knew who your master was. Oh, I know I was a little rough on you
sometimes, but I was young, only eighteen, and I was used to taking what I
wanted, I hadn't learned to art of diplomacy yet. But what's good about our
relationship, Frank, is that I don't have to prove myself to you, I've done
that already. And to be quite honest with you, you're just so damn good in
bed. Oh, maybe it was because you were the first, I'm not going to try to
figure it out because first or thirtieth it's not important. What's important
is that after four years of trying every damn asshole at the university I've
decided that you're the one for me. I know you'll make me very happy-you'd
better-so congratulations on winning my heart, we need to set the date for the
wedding."

I was speechless. Did she just propose to me? Did she just order me to marry
her? "But wait---." I started to say "but wait a cotton pickin' minute" but my
words got stuck in my throat as Janice moved her hold from my chest to my
throat, and squeezed any of the words forming there back down into my throat.

Janice had a very angry look on her face. "What did I tell you four years ago
bout starting a sentence to with 'but' or 'no' or anything else that indicates
less than 100% compliance with my wishes? Oooohhh, you make me so mad! When
are you going to learn to obey me?!!

Janice began to tighten her grip around my throat while I desperately clutched
at her hand, trying to dislodge it. Slowly she began to raise me up off my
feet, until my toes were just barely touching the floor, not supporting any of
my weight at all-and she was doing this with just one hand! All 210 pounds of
me! Four years ago she had needed two hands to beat me up! Now she seemed to
be doing it with only one! What good had my four years of weight training
under a master trainer done me? I had the feeling she could still beat me up,
but now she was going to require only one hand to do it! And now even my toes
weren't touching the floor, and my breathing was more labored, I was having
trouble getting the oxygen I needed to sustain my bodily functions. Things
were beginning to swim before my eyes, my vision was getting cloudy. Was this
bitch going to end my life right here and now? But if she had just proposed to
me why would she kill me? I'd be a much better fuck alive than dead. All these
thoughts were racing through my mind as I began to lose consciousness.

Can Frank loosen Janice's grip on his throat before he dies? Will Janice give
Frank a chance to accept her marriage proposal? Or will Frank choose death
before dishonor? See part two for the answers.