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The seething passions that lurk within many individuals are often hidden beneath a veneer of normalcy, exposed only under extremely tempting conditions.
The woman who, after a few drinks at a party, takes on all comers, male and female alike. The man who drinks too much at a stag party, climbs up on stage with the girl and performs with her in front of his friends. The couple who, under group pressure, reluctantly join the neighborhood mate swappers.
Mary Pussie is one of these outwardly proper and quite normal people. But within her a love of degradation and a desire to be debased lies coiled like a snake, waiting only for the proper stimulus to grow it. In Mary’s case, her sado-masochistic mother provides the catalyst for the girl’s transformation.
HOT LIKE MOM — a fictional story which, in reality, is about a society which refuses to face many of its real problems.
The sun was shining brightly on this beautiful July morning. The air was filled with the odors of flowers and tomatoes which the residents of this small town were sowing. Mary Pussie stood on the corner of Vine and Turner Avenue in Sexton, Pennsylvania. Mary was a police crossing guard. She liked her job in the summer but she saw fewer children. During the cold winter months it was lousy standing out in the cold directing traffic. In the summer months, though, it was good to be alive.
She had a busy corner and so was kept on the force during the summer months when summer school was in session. Mary enjoyed her job. She had grown up in this town and knew just about everyone. Everyone liked her and she liked them. The town knew their kids were safe in Mary’s hands. That was what bothered Mary. For some time now she has been having weird fantasies. She had been fighting against naughty impulses.
Mary was a virgin. She had been raised in a strict puritanical home. Her father was a tyrant and her mother was a mouse who always warned Mary about men and their vices. So, at twenty-two, Mary had no steady boyfriend and very few men friends. Her only real friends were the teenage boys who passed her each day on their way to school. They liked her and would talk and joke with her. She was a pal, not an authority figure. Mary liked the boys too, maybe too much!
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.
Note: This story is the same as catalog number AB-4002 in the original publications (a duplicate).