Caught In Slips Pt 9
By Christie Myr

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I’d like to thank Emily 63 from Victoria in Australia for providing me with information about various places and institutions mentioned throughout this story. I’d also like to thank Grim City Girl for proof reading this chapter.
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Most of my first year at university kept me busy. I had lectures 3 days a week, then there was work around the house to be done to help mum out. There was my two casual 4 hour shifts at the hotel (for spending money) that very quickly turned into a 3rd then a 4th shift, because of my willingness and dependability to always turn up for work on time. The hours for each shift also changed from 4 to 6 and sometimes as many as 8 hours (although very rarely) as Garry quickly grew confident of my abilities to work behind the bar. I’d sometimes work in the main public bar or the ladies lounge and even in the beer garden (on Sundays) and my pleasant disposition was often commented on by inebriated patrons. Then I had my “love life” and my social life to contend with and coming towards summer, I was excitedly waiting for the new cricket season to commence. I felt I was living life to the max.

Mark and I were still very much an item and as soon as my doctors allowed me too, I was letting him explore places denied to him previously. But we never did “the dirty deed” and let me assure you it wasn’t because he didn’t want to! No, I was the one who still wasn’t ready (confident) to have intercourse yet. I'd often phone Sue to talk about things in my university course she had already done and we also used to find time to talk about our love lives. She was adamant that I needed to decide if Mark would take my cherry or not, while always reminding me that there were other ways besides “hands” to keep him in satisfied.

It wasn’t long before I tried “one of those other ways” and recalling my first time, discovered the taste seemed the same. I didn’t like it or detest it, but I knew that Mark liked it and he wasn’t above returning the favour, although I kept a hand close by in case of slippery fingers as his tongue drove me frantically crazy. Finally I allowed him to have “Stinky” fingers privileges and found I rather enjoyed it, although I was alert to (and denied) any of his digits moving too far back around. I also didn’t mind his other favourite thing(s) and found that allowing him to suckle on my nipples often made me incredibly horny (and particularly damp and icky in my panties) to the point where several times I almost surrendered and if he’d asked, could have stolen my fruit.

I even bought a sexy negligee to wear for when I was finally going to allow Mark his reward. Mum saw it in the bottom of my 2nd drawer as she was putting my washing away (instead of me) and told me when she saw me I had good taste. She asked if I’d “used” the negligee yet! My reply had her smiling as she told me that I was now big enough physically (if not emotionally) to handle sex when the time came, before giving me a motherly peck and saying she was proud of me for being able to stay pure and innocent so long. She laughed saying “I wasn't like my sister was at my age”. My tanned coloured face “must” have turned crimson when she said that, because I remembered Sue excitedly telling me about it, sister to new sister the night she lost her virginity while she was still in year 11 at Mt Erin.

Now love life aside, university life aside, working life aside, I like to mention a bit about my playing cricket if you wouldn't mind. The approaching Spring then Summer was going to see me playing in the 1st grade Wagga Wagga Cricket Club side which I was quite excited about. My captain, Richard Cruise already knew I was only going to be playing until I moved to Sydney sometime in late January, several months away and although he would have preferred I either stay for the entire season, or else have someone in the team who was going to, tried his best to help the team by giving me all his knowledge about bowling leg spin.

He told me he thought I had a “bit” of talent in me and encouraged me to work on my bowling variation grips, as well as telling me countless times that flight variation and change ups in speed were just as good (if not better) than someone who could turn a ball sharply. At every practice he’d watch my bowling closely and when he batted he made it part of my training, that he'd tell me what the next ball was he wanted me to bowl to him. He was merciless in hammering my bowling way back out of the net behind me, if I missed the spot in the pitch I should have be aiming for, when I bowled the type of ball he told me to bowl incorrectly.

Each time one of my balls sailed out of the net high over my head, my fellow bowlers weren’t above giving me a lot of sarcastic comments (or at anyone out the back of the nets practicing their catching of skied balls, who dropped one off my bowling for that matter) but Cruiser’s tough love approach worked as the season drew closer and the balls I was bowling were no longer (or very rarely) being smashed out of the nets. The rest of my teammates already found it hard to even hit me back over my head at all when they practiced their batting, especially when Cruiser began making our keeper stand behind the stumps, to stump any foolish batsmen who missed the ball if they stepped down the wicket to hit me. – Cruiser’s decreed fine for being stumped off my bowling, was a “team’s round” at the bar afterwards (this meant the guilty batsman had to pay for a round of drinks for his teammates).

Our wicket keeper Brian (whose nickname was “howler”) even devised a hand code for me, so as I knew what he wanted me to try and bowl to a batsman. I continued to master my bowling grips so that during the final practice before the first game, it saw the pair of us making everyone’s batting (in the 1st grade side) a misery (particularly Cruiser’s). But our fast bowlers made my turn batting in the nets later just as bad, by bowling short pitched bumpers at me.

Our first game in late September saw all of Cruiser’s nagging pay immediate dividends for me (and the team) as I managed to pick up four wickets including their best two batsmen for very low scores. We won that first game (only by 1st innings) and along with our A grade (turf) side winning as well, had everyone cock o hoop in the clubhouse afterwards. Our next two games saw similar results (both 1st innings victories) and in me getting wickets, although only 3 in each innings. I got to bat as well and scored my usual single before I or my partner got out each time.

Opposition sides already knew all about me because I’d been playing with the WWCC for several years now and although sledging seems to be a dyed in the wool Australian institution, no one ever said anything seriously offensive to or at me. Of course I was accustomed to “F” bombs or “B” bombs and most other types too, but the umpires appointed to our games ensured nothing got too far out of hand. I was quite content to simply shut up and play knowing that if I started saying some sort of heckling, it’d probably blow up in my face. That’s why opposing teams willingly shook hands with me afterwards, as well as the odd player asking if I might be free to go out with them sometime!

WWCC’s success in 1st grade found an article appearing about it (and me) on the back pages of the local paper. The slant of the story was a light hearted piece about how a “girl” was showing the men how to play the “manly” sport of cricket. The following practice saw a far greater number of bumpers aimed in my direction than usual when I batted, along with a lot of laughter from the guys bowling them at me. In late November playing against Leeton, the “Howling Janet” combination (as my teammates was calling us) absolutely annihilated their batting line up in a comprehensive outright win, that saw me claiming 6 wickets a piece in both innings they batted. The club celebrations were huge on the 2nd Saturday night because all four senior teams had won their games that round. Better yet was having the local paper give a good write up about the club's performance. The story included photos of the 2nd Saturday’s Leeton match, one of which (taken by the paper’s photographer) showed from behind the wicketkeeper’s end, the stumps being broken and at the umpire’s end along with the umpire and other batsmen was me half way up in the air jumping for joy at the wicket I’d just taken (Mum cut out the article and photo and it’s in a framed picture on the wall of my parent’s place)

Of course apart from in the WWCC, at Charles Sturt I copped some teasing from friends over the article’s photo and it was similar at the hotel too (although there it was in a friendly form of congratulations by drinking patrons). But even better news came when I found out I aced my first year exams.

Just before Xmas and with a two week hiatus from any more cricket, saw my sister Sue coming home to join in the family’s Xmas celebrations. Greg wasn’t able to get leave but the family skyped him on Xmas night to all wish each other a Merry Xmas. Sue had already brought everyone up to date with how she was going (very well I might add) and to talk to me about what I’d need to bring up with me for my 2nd year at university, whose campus was only a short drive from the unit.

Sue also chose to tell me (aside in private) that I wouldn’t just be sharing the unit with her, before she finally told mum and dad that her boyfriend had moved into the unit with her, early on in March of the year just about finished. Sue assured me (while trying to calm our father down) that while he and she slept together and he paid his share of the rent, if he and I couldn’t get on she’d ask him to leave. Sue then told me how much of the rent “he” was paying (which was considerably more than Sue was, the sneaky cow). So it made good financial sense to try seeing how it would all work out and I just prayed he wasn’t a rowdy sort of guy who had loud friends around constantly.

While dad was still annoyed (at Sue’s live in boyfriend) he and mum grudgingly agreed that we were both old enough to leave home legally. That was as long as I was sure that Sue’s boyfriend living in the unit was alright. Later on mum, Sue and I had a long talk about the “new” situation, which after some verbal agreeing by Sue, saw mum talking to dad and restoring harmony in the home once again. Mum spoke to me too (in private) shortly afterwards, voicing her own concerns and offering suggestions that I suppose all mothers would under the circumstances.

We stayed together for New Year’s Eve, before Sue left to go back to Fairfield to get ready for work. I spent my last two weeks at home calling round to see friends, “almost” losing my virginity to Mark (who quickly found a new girlfriend shortly after I left for Sydney, I later learnt). I finished up my barmaid’s job as well as squeezing in one last game of cricket, which afterwards (since rain interrupted and saw the match abandoned 2nd week) saw me getting a rousing going away party at the clubhouse. In a wonderful gesture, most of the club’s players had contributed towards a farewell gift for me, which when I opened it in front of huge beaning grins revealed a very expensive (and sexy) women’s satin fabric corset in ruby red and black lace, that tied up at the back along with a matching pair of red and black satin briefs.

My face must have been redder than the corset as both players and their girlfriends or wives made numerous ribald suggestions about what I’d do with it or how I’d look in it. Because it was my last game for the club (till further notice) I managed to find two of the wives who weren’t already showing signs of inebriation and with their help, I went casually unnoticed outside to the ladies. Half an hour later, and with their giggling help, I managed to put the garment and bottoms on and laced it up before I casually walked back into the club house.

The huge main room quickly went deathly silent as people became aware of me and what I was wearing. “F**k me Janet you look hot” came loudly out of Richard Cruiser’s mouth, which started a cacophony of shouted compliments along with a number of requests for dates and a few other suggestions as well. I had to almost shout to tell everyone that they were allowed to look but not touch, which also saw me along with a number of the women there, discussing how the corset felt and so forth. This led to several times during the night (later on) with the corset being worn by other women, to much the same approval by the players.

To this day I’m still amazed that photos of me that night have never appeared on the internet, because I know that although everyone agreed there’d be no photos taken, I know that some of the other women who wore the corset were happy to pose for pictures (with their husbands or boyfriends). I showed mum and dad the present the following morning although not wearing it (I’m not THAT dumb in front of my father). Mum laughed loudly when I suggested she might like to try it on for size, that (surprisingly or perhaps not) had dad eagerly suggesting to mum to try it on and see how it looked! ………….I wasn’t too sure when I’d actually end up wearing the corset myself, but I made sure it was carefully packed in the bottom of one of my valises for the trip to Sydney.

In the early morning on Saturday the 20th of January, dad helped me make sure that my little bright sunshine yellow Mini Moke “Sunny” was sensible packed, because I had attached the hardtop to the car for Sydney driving (although that would never have been able to stop it from being stolen). I had the soft-top, which I much preferred, folded carefully down behind the back seat along with my valises now tied down along with my guitar case on top of it. Several boxes occupied the back seat and were lap sashed and double secured by stiff stretchy straps clipped on the inside body of the chassis. I had also boxed up my small stereo, which was lap sash restrained in the passenger’s front seat while also making sure the gear lever was clear of the stereo box so I could easily change gears.

Then with a final teary farewell hug and kiss with both mum and dad, I turned on the ignition key and with a farewell shout of good bye along with a wave, turned the car towards the front gate and slowly drove off, making sure I was comfortable with being able to see out of the passenger’s side opening.

I had now driven so many times and hours in “Sunny” I was used to the feeling of the wind blowing through me when I drove. Experience had also taught me that by driving slowly (where possible) driver fatigue was considerably less. If I’d had my way I would have driven at 40 mph at (70kilometers per hour) for the entire trip, but the listed speed signs and the consistent number of cars (and trucks) driving at the much higher signed limit forced me to drive at the same speed as well. I quickly revised my planned driving schedule and instead stopped about every two hours at any handy road side café for a drink and a stretch, so I didn’t end up reaching Liverpool until shortly after 6pm that evening. I’d phoned Sue at every stop to keep her updated of where I was and she’d phone dad to tell him.

When I finally pulled into the street in Fairfield where the unit was, there was no doubt both my body and mind were spent. Pulling into the driveway and a light tap on the horn saw my sister look down from the balcony then come racing downstairs to greet me along with her boyfriend Craig, who then both helped me quickly unload “Sunny” and take everything upstairs before I came back down and unlocked the garage so I could put her away. I noticed that Sue’s car was temporarily parked in one of the visitor’s spots, while poor old Craig’s car (which was by far the nicest and best of the three when I finally saw it) had apparently been relegated to the street. Sue said we’d work the car thing out tomorrow and I walked upstairs to start unpacking. Very little got touched that evening as instead and totally exhausted, I sat in one of the ragged lounge chairs and ate microwave reheated KFC while listening to Sue and Craig tell me about living in the inner western part of Sydney.

Sue had made up my bed for me and I remember dropping down onto it sometime around 9ish and sleeping through till morning, when a loud car exhaust woke me. I was still wearing the clothes I’d arrived in as I shuffled bleary eyed into the bathroom to do what Mother Nature deemed necessary. Finally starting to wake up, I looked around the bathroom and my recollections of last night had me wondering, how much of mum’s story about how she first saw the condition of the unit when I had come down for my surgery, had actually been exaggerated?

The bathtub had a wide dirt ring, the window sills had a layer of dust, and I’m sure the bathroom floor tiles had been a different colour. When I walked outside heading for the kitchen, the overall condition of the unit was actually very messy and grubby. The kitchen itself wasn’t as bad as I was dreading it might have been. The fridge had milk in it so a cup of tea could probably be made, which was what I was doing when Sue came into the kitchen saying good morning, sleep well and apologising for the state of the place all in the one sentence. We hugged each other and I stood around as she made toast for her and me and coffee for herself before walking back into the living room and sitting down, making me have to follow her.

Now I was more aware of everything around me then the previous evening, we started to catch up about things and I barely noticed out of the side of my eye, a naked Craig scampering into the bathroom to relieve himself before dashing back into the bedroom again. He came out dressed shortly afterwards and said his own good mornings while pinching a bit of Sue’s toast and a sip of her coffee. Sue then spoke as to who was to use the bathroom first today (which was me) and just as with the car situation, said we’d work everything out for the future, once I was unpacked.

The shower helped enormously. While Sue then Craig took their turns in the bathroom I started unpacking. My bedroom (the smaller one, which also only had a single bed) was probably the least shabby of the rooms (I still had really seen Sue’s bedroom yet). It also had a small vanity top and drawers in it was just big enough for me to put away my underwear, tops, Tees, shorts, jumpers and private whatnots including my dilators (which I stashed under everything in the bottom drawer). The built in wardrobe was able to take all my hanging up clothes and an upright wooden chair filled out the contents of the room. I took my time working out how I’d fit my stereo in the room along with my guitar case, because there was only the one double power point on each side of the room. I’d also have to see about getting thick curtains for the windows because the sun shone through it of a morning.

By 1pm I was completely unpacked and starving. A quick check of the kitchen cupboards showed the cockroaches must dine elsewhere as well, so I suggested to my sister that we’d needed to go shopping and if I remembered correctly the shopping centre wasn’t far away. Sue thought the idea had merit, but quickly took me to the kitchen and between us we first divvied out the cupboard space between us before Craig volunteered to drive both us to the shops. We had a choice of three shopping centres, all close to one another.

The short drive to the shops was a quick lesson in learning of the makeup of Fairfield. Most of the people walking around were of Asian heritage, as it was inside the shopping centre. There were a number of other nationalities there and even on a Sunday the centre had a buzz about it. We stopped to have a cappuccino before we started shopping for groceries, where it was agreed that where possible and to avoid waste, the first one home of a night would cook for the three of us. This made the food selection much easier the first time we went shopping after I knew when my classes took place.

That night Craig discovered just how good a cook his girlfriend and her sister were, which also created a friendly bond between the three of us, since he also realised that I didn’t fancy him or was jealous of my sister. Later on that night I learned something new myself (that I would never have imagined) when I discovered that my sister was quite the moaner in bed during sex! I often had to listen to my sister and Craig having sex in the next room from then on, only too pleased to find that the two of them seemed happy and didn’t feel embarrassed at me knowing about it.

The next day saw me left alone to fend for myself and I took the opportunity to drive around the area to get my bearings (so to speak). I also took the time to do some price shopping. The talk around the lounge room as we sat eating our evening meal (off laps), was that I’d already phoned dad and told him that the unit needed a lot of repairs, which mum, dad and I had discussed several days before I left. Dad hadn't seen the unit when he’d come down for my operation, and mum only confirmed to him that the unit had looked very messy when we offered the low purchase price we had, expecting to have to renovate it eventually.

So telling that to my sister and Craig, I found them enthusiastically agreeing to help as I outlined some of the things I wanted to do to make the place more habitable. My suggestions (I admitted to them) were because I was spoilt living at home where mum was a fanatical one for everything being spotless and nice. Craig who I now found out was a fulltime building carpenter and a part time amateur handyman, offered to do the electrical work (for the air con installation I wanted). He also offered to do any wiring needing to be done elsewhere in the unit along with offering to help out (along with my sister) in repainting the walls. He even had a friend who was a carpet layer that for a case of beer and a feed would lay it for free.

The next day I had to go and register for next term’s course and find out about my timetable for the coming year. Because I was there early (at the campus) I was among the crowd who got the more convenient class subject times, that saw me again only having to attend university three days a week starting in early February. I spent the rest of the day picking up paint colour charts and brochures as well as prices. So after cooking again for all of us, we talked about colours and what else the unit “really” needed. (Wednesdays after I went back to university would turn out to be Sue’s cooking night as well as taking turns on weekends)

Dad had told me earlier in the day when I rang him, that he agreed to release $8,000 from my trust so I could get everything I felt was needed. Both Sue and I were excited about renovating the unit (as was Craig) and had some friendly sisterly arguing over colour choices which in the end saw us finally agreeing to another paint scheme that neither of us had thought about. Then there were the curtains, the carpets and even the air conditioning unit (which in the end saw us buying three to cover the main lounge room/dining area (yet to have a dining table) and both bedrooms (which we agreed was compulsory). Poor old Craig flipped as he listened to the idea of 3 air con units needing to be to be installed on the balcony. Sue was at her persuasive (and noisy) best convincing him to agree to install them all, in the bedroom afterwards!

By the time everything was “finally” finished a month or so later, the renovated unit was now a pleasure to live in. We didn’t appreciate that fact until we came back after going out for a pizza dinner having declared we were finished. We walked into a bright and clean unit that was cool and comfortable. Suddenly everyone was happy that finally we lived in a nice place that we’d be proud to show friends. I liked it because it felt like it was MY place now, while Sue liked it because she no longer lived in a 2nd hand dump. Craig found out he enjoyed it later on that night (as did the neighbours I think)

We took photos and emailed them to mum and dad showing them the final result. They seemed pleased with the results too, but reminded both of us about keeping the unit looking like that for the next ten years. Sheesh!

We had also worked out how to safely keep the cars from being broken into, after on my second day at university saw poor Sunny being violated and my CD player and speakers in it being stolen. I reported it to the police, who told me I should've expected it, owning such an easy car to break into. That incident determined that the following day I booked Sunny in to have an immobiliser installed in her and told Craig to park his car in the garage.

Craig did more than just that, which ended up with him putting up a thick rubber pad against the back wall of the garage that when he gently eased the back of his car into it (not damaging his car's paintwork) allowed enough room for Sue’s old Toyota to be reversed back (very slowly and carefully) in infront of his, so that both cars were under cover even though the garage door couldn’t be lowered properly. The front of Sue’s car jutted out by just over a foot but both cars were now off street parked which had less chances of theft or vandalism.

A lot of the residents complained about our open garage door (of a night) and I had to front the body corporate after a hastily written note was slipped under our door asking for the owner of the unit to contact the unit management. My appearance announcing who I was, quickly had me being asked to give reasons why the breaching of a particular rule shouldn’t be punished by a fine.

I took great pains to explain why a car was "just" sticking out of my garage and how it had been done (showing it to the five unit owners who'd complained). In the end the matter died a silent death, perhaps because less than a week later, several other unit owners were doing the exact same thing themselves. Sunny had to stay out on the street, but surprisingly never got broken into. If I swapped the hard cover for soft cover and didn’t zip up the sides, Sunny did get a lot of rubbish tossed in her, but nothing worse than what used to happen at Mt Erin College.

Even with the rent (from the units – including Craig’s rent gouge) which in time would again have enough money put aside to continue paying off the unit at Liverpool, as well as covering the outgoings of both places, the cost of living away from home were quickly eating my own personal reserve. My “scholarship funding” covered about half of my total expenses, but if I didn’t want to end up stony broke before the end of the year, I'd need to find another casual job that would fit in with my university lecture times.

Sue and I talked about it and we both agreed that casual bar tendering was the best money for the hours worked, as well as being relatively easy to get (if you knew people). I didn’t have dad this time and I asked Sue if at her old job (which she never spoke about) she had contacts who could offer me a job. Sue quickly assured me that I “didn’t” want to work there “EVER”, before suggesting I ask around the local hotels.

It was Sue’s adamant statement about not wanting to work where she had (and after having no luck asking the local hotels for casual work) that saw me pestering her to ask her old employers again, and saw her swearing me to secrecy before telling me that the hotel where she had done casual barmaid work at had been a “topless” hotel. I was stunned at finding that out and soon after began rolling around the unit floor laughing hysterically telling her that if she didn’t help me out, I’d tell mum and dad.

Sue then told me that the job she used to work was at a hotel, which back in Essex would have been called a slaughter house, because of all the fights that often occurred. She also reminded me that my boobs were nowhere as big as hers (preening herself) and my small stature (5’5” 95lbs – 45kilos) could easily see me being accidently hurt if a fight broke out (a regular occurrence apparently) and I got caught up in it.

My sister admitted that the money, because of the tips – (yes you read THAT correctly, no spelling error) had been especially good and had allowed her to create a bank of savings. But she assured me that the worst of the worst drank there (including an infamous motorcycle chapter) and she never walked outside after finishing work without someone escorting her to the car. With a quick grab and squeeze of one of my boobs she told me I’d fail the interview anyway!

I thought about it during lectures the following day and with my own money beginning to slowly dwindle away, on getting home first, quickly got cooking tea under way before deciding to try for a preliminary pre interview test with my sister????