DISCLAIMER:
NO PART(S) OF THIS WORK, NOR THE WORK IN ITS ENTIRETY, MAY BE: ALTERED; COPIED; EXCERPTED; REPRODUCED; STORED IN ANY TYPE OF INFORMATION STORAGE AND/OR RETRIEVAL SYSTEM; TRANSMITTED; OR USED IN ANY OTHER WAY(S) BY ANY MEANS SUCH AS DESKTOP PUBLISHING, ELECTRONIC, MECHANICAL, PHOTOCOPYING, RECORDING, OR ANY OTHER METHOD NOT EXPLICITLY STATED IN THIS DISCLAIMER WITHOUT THE EXPRESSED PERMISSION OF THE COPYRIGHT HOLDER.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This story is dedicated to the vivacious and virtuous and voluptuous LADY KRYSTAL MESMER. It should not be read by any minor. It should not be read by anyone who is ethically, legally, morally, religiously, or personally {for any reason(s)} prohibited or proscribed from doing so. It should not be read by anyone who is fearful of, or uncomfortable with, the subject of feminine influence/control/domination/superiority/supremacy/inspiration or the topic of mind control in any of its forms or both.
THANK YOU to Junoesque radio sports talk show host Amy Lawrence. Your recounting your Sadie Hawkins day experiences was the impetus for this tantalizing tale.
Everyone in these parts knows about that Sadie Hawkins gal. And it ain’t just because this is a small town stuck out in the middle of yuh never hurd uh no places ’round heeyarr. I reckon Sadie Hawkins wood’uh been not possible to forget no matter whereabouts she was a livin. For whatever curse’ed reason the Hawkins hant and a grossed uh hanfulls grews up here. Read more…