Obnoxious Housemate 1 - Jesus (new draft) (long)
I woke up and checked the clock in my tiny room and cursed – I was late for work. If I ran into the shower I could just make it. I quickly sprinted to the bathroom and as I got there, saw that I'd just beaten Liz, my obnoxious church-lady housemate, apparently also late, to the bathroom. Oh, well, she’d had the same chance as I did. Now she'd have to wait. Our other three housemates had long since left for work.
As I locked the door behind me she shrieked, and shouted at me through the door -- she seemed to believe that I'd deliberately waited till the last minute just to make HER late for work. Told you she was obnoxious. Amazingly, she continued shouting and pounding on the door, sermonizing (she's a Baptist and a great sermonizer) about my extreme inconsideration. She was yelling at me like I was a naughty child. “This is very rude of you. You must be feeling very small now. I expect this misbehavior to stop right now. Aren’t you feeling small, acting this way?”
This was really getting annoying. I could hardly hear her through the shower, and yet she wouldn’t stop. Pound and shout. Shriek and pound.
I’d been considering for weeks what this misplaced missionary deserved, and I’d even gone so far as to purchase a couple of toys that might help teach her such a lesson, but I had never thought of a good way to begin. But now I thought I knew.
Without turning off the shower, I padded out, naked, silently over to the door, which she was unbelievably still pounding on, challenging my manhood still. I mentally rehearsed the motions for a moment, then quickly opened the door, grabbed her by the front of her bathrobe, pulled her sharply into the room with me, and while she was briefly stunned by seeing me naked, punched her four times in the solar plexus to quickly knock her wind out. Her knees weakened and she put her hands to her stomach, trying to breathe. I took this opportunity to run back to my bedroom and fetch 5 pair of handcuffs, a ball gag, a few other toys, and a key on a bracelet.
I had the cuffs and was back in seconds, before she’d caught her breath. She was gasping slowly, and I punched her stomach once more to keep her from catching breath just yet. This should be the last violence I need for the rest of the day. Her hands were still at her stomach, so I quickly yanked the yellow robe off her shoulders and down to her hands. While the robe pinned her arms down, I cuffed her wrists together just above the now crumpled sleeves. While she was trying to react to that, I reached down and did the same to her ankles.
She reached down, too late, to stop me cuffing her ankles, and the robe dropped to the floor. As she tried to pick it up, I used cuff pair number three to connect her ankle chain to her wrist chain. Now she can't straighten up, reach her face, or do much else for that matter. I saw Liz naked for the first time.
Well, nearly the first -- I once walked in on her in her bedroom by accident, but that was a short glimpse. That was when I realized that as ugly as her face and soul were, her body was actually quite nice, even for a 20-year-old university girl. Slender, shapely and taut, with slim legs, full hips, small waist and pert b-cup breasts, her body was begging for recognition. And the full-length mirror I had caught her posing before, that first time, told me that she was aware of her appeal too. In fact, even her face wasn’t all that bad, if you didn’t know her. Her mouth was a bit too wide, her lips a bit too thin, a little underbite on her. But with a good smile, she might please someone. Not that I’d ever seen one on her.
Finally she was catching her breath, in great gasping heaves. I waited for a few of these great breaths so she could re-oxygenate, and as they were about to stop, used her wide-open mouth to pop in a large ball gag. As she tried to take it out and realized her arms were pinned by her legs, I efficiently strapped the gag on, and locked it behind her head. I honestly didn’t see any need for her to contribute to the conversation, and her usual talk of Jesus was even more tiresome than her belittling insults. Her heavy breathing continued for a while very heavily through her nose, bubbling through snot and spattering her reddened face.
I felt called upon to be sympathetic, but I couldn't raise much. This woman was as close to evil as I'd ever met. (I was young.) She was a slob of a housemate, yet self-righteous, small-minded, and hypocritical. And she was constantly trying to convert me from my religion to hers, despite my repeated requests to leave it alone. She didn't just do it to me -- she did it to everyone. Very invasively. Her dinner talk was about how Baptists were the only true Christians and Christianity was the only true religion. And she preached constantly the virtues that she herself had none of. Maddening. I wondered if I could make her see this, now that I had a captive audience.
After she started to breathe normally, she began trying to harangue me through the gag. MMM-mm-MMMM! MMM-mm-MMMM! Over and over. Probably "let me go", in her most commanding tones. Well, it wasn't working. I picked her up under the knees and back, carried her over to the bath/shower, and placed her in it, sitting down at the back, facing the faucet. The shower was still running, so I went back in myself, in front of her, and continued shampooing my hair. Shampoo got in her eyes, and she couldn’t wipe it out. She was still vocalizing, but her eyes were closed tight and her commanding tone changed to pleading.
I washed myself thoroughly, taking special care with my own naughty bits, and ignored her for a while. (My naughty bits had obviously registered her nearby decent body, but I pretended not to.) She had the shampoo in her eyes to worry about anyway. When I was all clean, I began on her. I redirected the shower toward her head, soaked and shampooed her hair, and then carefully rinsed it clean. Washed the shampoo from her eyes and wiped them clean and dry. Then I used the soap, and carefully sudsed up her shoulders, arms, chest, and belly. Her breasts felt quite firm and slippery. Mmm. Nice body, too bad about the soul. Washed her back, then rinsed it all off. And then lifted her by the hipbones and flipped her over onto her hands and knees. Since her hands are unable to move far from her ankles, this puts her butt high in the air, and her head on one side on the tub. I checked that she could breathe ok.
Then I cleaned her butt and legs. And crotch. Non invasively, just as she would probably do it to herself. Like a nurse might. Let her wonder. Hmmm -- blond pubes. Never seen those before. Felt very soft and straight. She protested as I stroked them curiously. They were unshaven, since she was a slob. And her ass was still in the air. She tried to tip herself over a couple times while I was washing her, but I had tipped her back up until she stopped. She's stopped "talking" for a while. OK, time for a little sermon of my own. I spoke to her ass, mostly, glancing down at her face once in a while for confirmation.
"Now Liz, you may have been brought up in a strange culture, but you have to realize that other people think of their religion as a private thing, not a public thing. If they don't ask you to discuss it with them, it's because they want to keep it to themselves. And in general, they'd like you to keep yours to yourself, too. Do you understand?"
She grunted, but I didn’t think she understood yet.
“It's just like everyone takes showers, but you were pounding on the door of mine. That's obnoxious too. Showers are also private.”
"Maybe I could explain with an analogy. These here are your private parts." (My hand on them. She tried to shout in protest.) "You normally don't go waving them around in public. These are mine." (Showed off my now very erect member.) "You don't expect me to show mine in public either. And you certainly don't expect me to force you to accept mine." I paused, let her wonder if I was going to demonstrate. She looked at me silently, hatefully. But I didn’t demonstrate.
"In fact, having someone else forcing their religion on you feels much like having Jesus shoved up your ass. See this? This is Jesus." I showed her a Jesus figurine that she'd left by the sink. "And this is Jesus up your ass." Out of her sight, I brought Jesus around behind her still-raised ass, swapped him out for a nice butt plug, lubricated it heavily, and popped it in. It wasn’t a big plug, but in her presumably virgin ass, she probably believed she'd taken the whole figurine. I let her continue to think so. I liked the idea of owning that bit of her mind, too; I was altering her reality a bit.
"Now do you understand?" She nodded vigorously, and protested, probably demanding I take Jesus out. Her eyes showed discomfort. She was trying to tip onto one side, but I wouldn't let her. "This is an important lesson, so I need you to remember it. Every time you try to force Jesus on someone, remember what it feels like. Do you think you can remember this?" Again she nodded vigorously and vocalized.
"Good. Now let's talk." I turned off the rapidly cooling shower, and knelt down behind her, straddling her bound legs and arms, one hand on her butt. I ran the bathtub faucet behind me, put a little shaving cream in my left hand, and took a disposable razor in the right. As I spoke, I lathered and began to shave her pussy lips and inner thighs, which faced me. "You'll need to remember this lesson for some time, so I'm giving you a gentle reminder of our meeting today, which should last a few days. I'm just going to shave you nice and smooth, so you will always feel a little different. This should remind you of the important lesson. The lesson itself, just you and me together, will be here in the bathtub, for just the rest of today." She squealed and wriggled, but I'd anticipated this and lifted the razor away for a bit.
"What, you don't want to stay here with me and Jesus all day?" She made it clear this would be bad. I put down the razor, tipped her over and helped her up to a sitting position. She leaned forward to avoid putting weight on the butt plug. I looked her in the eye, sat across her legs so that my legs hold hers down, and continued gently shaving her blond pubic hair, from the front this time, as I spoke. She couldn’t reach back far enough to stop me, but not for lack of trying. "I guess you're worried about your job, right?" She nods. "So you'd like to go to work right away, right?" She nodded again, faster, still obviously upset that I was shaving her without permission. "But the lesson's not done yet. This lesson will take you several hours to learn. Nobody changes their behavior in just a few minutes, right?" She paused, then lied by nodding her head. I didn't believe her.
"Well, I'll give you another option then. Either you stay here with me for the rest of the day, while I teach you sensitivity to other people's religions, or..." By this time her lips were nicely bare, and I'd trimmed her triangle to a neater but largish triangular patch in front, not reaching her legs or belly. "...or I can let you go now, and you can come to me in my room for sex and sensitivity training, every night at 10:30, for the next two weeks."
She paused, thinking about this. I didn't think she had a boyfriend, here in this strange city, so she shouldn't have had any trouble making such a promise. Of all the five housemates, I was the only one with a private room (since mine was too small for two.) So this could work. And hey, I needed the sex, and though her pug mouth didn't appeal to me, I could always have put a bag over her head. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. She apparently agreed, since she nodded.
I noticed I was having trouble finishing the shaving job -- I couldn't reach everywhere I wanted to. I said I’d need to move her around first, then I pushed her carefully over onto her back. Her legs came with her arms, rising in the air, then hovering, bent, over her body as she displayed her mostly-shaved, slightly open genitals for me. She tried to hold her legs together, retain some vestige of dignity, but I placed my torso between them as I worked.
"OK, here's how it will work." As I spoke, I used a new razor to shave a large letter "S", Superman-style, into her newly neat pubic triangle. I also carefully trimmed the bottom of the triangle, holding her labia down as I shaved them, leaving her lips and hood entirely bare. "Every night at 10:30, SHARP, you will be in my room, naked. You will not speak. You'll simply show up and wait for me to tell you what to do. After we have sex, I might wish to sleep with you, but I might instead tell you to return to your room. You will do as I say. This will go on for 14 days. I may also wish to test you on your memory of this lesson. The letter "S" you see in the mirror should remind you of me. It stands for "Sensitivity", and "Silence", and of course it's my initial too. So you know you're mine. It stands for "Slave" too. Part of your job over the next two weeks is to keep the shaving job neat, and the "S" clearly visible. Do you understand?"
She nodded, bumping her head on the tub.
"Do you prefer this deal to staying here with me for the rest of the day?"
She nodded again, more carefully.
"Do you agree to all the terms?"
She nodded, quickly. Her eyes held resentment and betrayal, and I could see she wasn’t really thinking of keeping her side of the bargain yet. I pulled her arms to help her back up to a sitting position, and she grunted in pain from the weight on her behind. I removed the cuffs linking her ankle chain with her wrists, and she thought she was getting free. I told her to kneel, and she did so, relieving the pressure from behind. But then I took the free pair of handcuffs and used it to cuff her left arm, around the outside, to her left ankle. I added an extra pair for the right wrist and ankle, and removed the pair between her ankles. Her wrists were linked together, and she was kneeling, hands loosely bound to ankles. Her eyes held a question now.
"You're asking me to trust you that you’ll hold to this deal and I have no reason to trust you yet. I'll give you a token of trust, and you'll give me another, OK?" She nodded. "Would you like me to help out with Jesus back there?" She nods. "OK, I will." I reach around and pull the plug out of her ass. She squealed briefly, then looked relieved and relaxed. I made sure it was Jesus she saw coming back around, not the plug. I asked her, "Does humiliation turn you on, Jesus-girl?" She shook her head vigorously. I reached between her legs and stroked, feeling her extreme wetness giving the lie to her assertion. She protested again, not wanting to be touched there, but she had just found out something new about herself, and she knew I had too. "Apparently it does, Liz. OK, for your token of trust, you can seal the deal by walking over here on your knees and fucking me." My erection was straining and this was a great way to end the lesson. More importantly, she was far more likely to show up this evening if she'd already started having sex with me. She didn't want to, though. I was right -- she had never intended to show up.
Liz stared at me, trembling, wet, and aroused, but unwilling and angry. Her stretched lips were unattractive, and her eyes were red-rimmed. "Your choice, Jesus-girl. You can fuck me now, and every night for two weeks, and go back to work. Or you can stay here for the rest of the day, with me and Jesus." I picked up Jesus again; motioned to put him behind her.
This decided her. She shook her head "no", and walked toward me on her knees. I sat down in the tub, legs between hers, and watched as she knee-walked up toward my hips and mounted me easily. Her wetness made it easy, and she began to ride me with her legs, though carefully, since her wrists were still tethered to her ankles. Her arms were out of the way, so I could play with her slippery breasts and lightly chew her nipples as she rode, apparently liking it fast. I came quickly, but apparently she did too. She sighed and lowered herself onto my still-erect member, enjoying the feeling. I took a minute to enjoy it too, rolled her nipples between my thumb and fingers for a while, enjoyed my new ownership of her body.
I slid out from under her and washed myself off. I ran the water and washed her crotch again, this time lingering a bit between her lips. She did not protest, though the water was cold now. Then I got out of the tub and dried off and dressed, leaving her kneeling naked, helpless, in the tub. I came back, undid and removed all the cuffs except those holding her hands together, leaving her gagged, and told her, "You can get dressed for work now. Come to me downstairs for help with your hands."
And I left the bathroom, taking my toys and key with me.
* * *
As I was finishing breakfast, Liz came downstairs. I'd called in late for work, so I was relaxed. She was wearing grey pantyhose and a grey knee-length skirt, nice work shoes, and a ball gag. She looked stressed and resentful, not to mention topless. She was carrying her white blouse and bra, and a pastel pink dress jacket. She couldn't put the top on over the cuffs, so her breasts were swaying gently as she walked. She looked pretty good, if I ignored her resentful eyes. She'd put her makeup on already, the best she could with the cuffs and the gag, and done her hair. She was in a hurry. I removed the ball gag, and she gasped and retched a bit. I helped clean her up, and offered her some water, which she accepted. Then I removed the cuffs from her wrists.
She looked me in the eye, and slapped me hard on the cheek.
Instead of reacting to this (I was half-expecting it), I instantly grabbed her wrist and cuffed it, then reached out for her other arm, yanked it over and cuffed it too. I held one wrist and pushed it back inward, driving her to her knees, letting me put another pair on her pantyhose-clad ankles. I stood her up again with a little wrist pressure the other way, then pulled her arms down so I could add the third pair to hold the wrist chain to the ankle chain, and she was now once more bent over double. She was protesting loudly so I pulled her hair back behind her and quickly popped her gag back in, buckled it on. I was glad I was able to restrain her with brute force and speed this time – it told her I could do it again anytime.
"Oh boy," I said, "are you in trouble now...."
While she breathed heavily through her nose I unzipped her skirt and slid it down her legs. Quickly I slid my hands under the waist of her pantyhose and pulled them down just past her knees, along with the pink cotton panties beneath them. She tried to stop me but couldn't reach. She protested, moaning through the gag. I walked around in front of her, unclasped her shoes. I slid the pantyhose and skirt a little further down her calves, and added cuffs from her lower left calf to her left wrist, and another on the right. Then I removed the other cuffs, leaving only one linking each ankle to a wrist.
I walk around behind her and pulled her hips toward me, and she fell, unable to right herself. I caught her between my legs and lowered her gently to a sitting position. Then I walked around in front again, removed her shoes, and pulled off the skirt and pantyhose, now conveniently below the new cuffs.
She was sitting naked on her ass, on the kitchen floor, wrists and ankles linked, hunched over, legs slightly bent and spread before her. Before she could figure out that she'd be much more comfortable with crossed legs, I went round behind her and lifted her up, by the behind, until she was standing again. She was still bent over double, and breathing somewhat heavily through her nose, with snot messing up some of her makeup. She was trying to command me to do something again.
I neatly folded her clothing and put it on the kitchen table in a neat pile. I stood before her and said "Look at me." She raised her head, cramping a muscle in her neck, since it was a hard angle. She stopped talking and quickly lowered her head. "OK," I say, "we'll make that easier." I walked around behind her, took a nice kitchen chair, and sat down comfortably, straddling the back. Her straight legs were supporting her slightly oversized ass, which stuck up as the highest point on her body. Her shaved pussy pointed directly at me. It looked like a young woman’s pussy, hardly used, closed, taut. Her head was down between her knees. "Look at me," I repeated. She opened her legs slightly to see me, and looked at me, upside down, between her legs, with gag in mouth. Her eyes held worry, and anger, and resentment, but she was silent.
"You broke our agreement already. I'm disappointed in you." She shook her head. "What, you think I'd trust you to keep it after you hit me?" She looked sullen, didn't reply.
"Liz, I can see you're still angry," I said. "But your anger is misdirected. You have acted obnoxiously, this morning, and just now again. I have acted honorably and in your best interest. You should be angry at yourself for putting yourself in this position again, when you were ready to go to work."
She stared at me for a while, through her legs, and then lowered herself to the ground, as her hamstrings got sore. "No!” I barked. "Remain standing straight for now." She straightened up, a good sign. Maybe she was ready to give in now.
"You will eventually realize that you have been at fault here, and you will desire to make it right, to pay whatever price is necessary. When you feel that way, AND NOT BEFORE, you may sit down comfortably on the floor." I continued to watch her, through her legs. "If you sit before you feel that way, I will know it, and you will be punished." She watched me, resentfully, feeling exposed and angry.
I waited, and she remained standing, though it must have been painful by that point. Her face was quite red, and her knees were slowly bending as the hamstrings pulled. I took out the disposable razor, came over to her, and said "don't move for a bit -- I missed a spot." I dry-shaved a little stray fuzz from between her butt cheeks, near where they joined her legs. She trembled with humiliation and sore muscles. "OK, now I'm done".
With a sigh, she sat down on the floor and crossed her legs, for the first time looking natural and comfortable. Her cuffs were almost unnoticeable in this position, not putting any strain on her. She was so relieved that she forgot to be embarrassed that she was exposed and spread open. I walked around in front of her and looked her in the eye.
"OK, Liz. Penalty time. You've fucked up, and to make it right, you'll need to agree to some extra terms. Ready?" She nodded, a tear in her eye. "First, it's three weeks you'll be coming to see me, not two. Fair?" Liz shook her head, shouted in frustration. No. She wasn't into two weeks, and she definitely would not be buying three.
"OK, stand up. On your feet." She didn't move. I understood why, but it wasn’t acceptable. I went to the freezer, took out the ice cubes, popped a round one out. I pushed her forward so far her butt came off the floor, and then quickly forced the ice cube into her ass. She squealed and shouted, stood up, shook her body like it was on fire.
"I've been very good about keeping everything to agreements and suggestions and choices, Liz. But every time you refuse a direct order, you’ll be punished, and I suggest you don’t ever do it again. Understand?" She nodded, moaning with the cold intruder, shivering, and frightened for the first time. She stood as I’d commanded, with her head upside down, between her legs once more, but squirming, now unable to stand still as the ice burned her inside.
“You sat down before you were willing to admit you were wrong. Bad move. I warned you there would be punishment. This time, stay standing until you're sure you're ready to admit that and pay the penalty.”
Her legs couldn’t hold up so easily this time, her ass was cold, and the fight had gone out of her. She sat down once more, still squirming, and turned herself to face me. She nodded, grunted unhappily. I thought she was ready now. "As I was saying, it's four weeks you'll be coming to my room for sex. It was three, but now it's four. Understand?" She nodded, sadly. "There's more. You won't speak at all to me during those four weeks, not in my room, not outside it, not today, not ever unless I specifically say you can. You will also not speak of religion to anyone but your Bible Study friends. Agreed?" She nodded.
"You are probably wondering if you'll be in restraints during our sessions at night. Or with that gag in your mouth. The answer is it's mostly up to you. If you are perfectly obedient, you won't need them. If I decide you do need them, or if you forget yourself and speak, you will quietly hold your hands out for the cuffs. Understood?" She hesitated. She didn’t like being in cuffs. I glanced over at the ice cubes still on the counter, and back at her. She quickly agreed.
"You will be coming to my room for four weeks, so you're probably expecting time off for your period. Drop that expectation right now. During your period, you'll wear tampons. You'll show me, without speaking, your tampon string when you come in. And you'll bring a clean ass, well lubricated. Have you had anal sex before?" She shook her head. "Well, maybe we can start you on that shortly. I hear it gets better with practice.” She shook her head, moaned in the negative.
"Are you refusing to please your man?" She paused, and tears came to her eyes. She didn’t seem ready to give in. “If my dick’s not good enough for you, I could just use ice cubes every time, instead.” She wailed and shook her head. "All right then. Do you agree to come to me during your period with tampon in and with your ass lubricated and ready for pleasing?" She was ashamed, but nodded quietly. It was amusing to me that she was now agreeing to the sodomy she had just had sex with me to avoid earlier. She was sitting hunched over her crossed legs, very humiliated, and amazingly, I imagined I could see a bead of wetness in her open vulva, which I'd swear was not there before.
"You will not be wearing any clothes by 10:30 each evening. I don't care how you manage it, but when you enter my room, you will be naked within 5 seconds. Agreed?" She thought, then nodded meekly. Now I was sure about the wetness.
"And one more thing. I'm sorry about making you later for work, but I must know that you are trustworthy. You will spend the next 45 minutes, right here, being a perfectly obedient sex slave. This is your practice for this evening, and how you will convince me that I can trust you to keep your word this time. You will not only do everything I say without question, you will do your damnedest to convince me you're enjoying it. Agreed?"
She was frantically worried about her job now, but she nodded and wanted me to get on with it.
So I did.
I put a piece of writing paper and a pen before her, on the floor. "Write the following. 'I have been bad, and I need to be punished. I will be yours from now until August 13, every night, to be corrected and disciplined. This I vow before God and before those I love.'" She had stopped questioning, and wrote the words. "Now sign your name, and date it." She did so. "Now write your home address, not this one, but where your parents live." She did this too. "Write your mother's name and your father's, and the minister's." She looked up at me, her eyes a question. I looked hard and stern, and said
“Don’t forget to smile while you follow orders.” She tried to fake a smile around the gag, couldn’t, looked back at the paper and wrote the names. I looked at them and nodded. I took the paper away and folded it, kept it.
"Stand up", I told her. She did, a bit awkwardly, with each wrist still tethered to its nearest calf. With my left hand, I stroked her from behind, checked her pussy for wetness. There was very little left. I guessed writing wasn't her thing. Or maybe it was the ice – it was probably melted by now.
I asked "Would you like to go to the bathroom, pee and clean up a bit first?" She nodded. "Well, it's going to be impossible to get up the stairs with those cuffs on", I pointed out. She nodded again, bit her lip nervously. I came around in front of her, stood between her legs, and reached around behind to lift her butt. She was light, and now her arms and legs were wrapped around me as I carried her by the buttocks. I carried her over to the double kitchen sink, sat her on the edge of it. "You'll have to make do with this. I'll help." I slid her back a little. "Start by peeing in the sink." Her face darkened. I looked her in the eye for a bit, but she resisted.
I noticed that the ice cubes were still out on the counter. Not good, couldn’t have them melting. I walked the two steps to the ice cubes and she protested loudly, begging for my attention. I turned back toward her and saw her begin to urinate in the sink. I put the ice cube tray in the freezer.
The liquid splashed around the sink in all directions. I ran some water into the sink behind her, rinsed it off, and used my hands to wash her off once more. I carefully cleaned her in front, beneath and behind like a baby, with a little soap and running water. She was flushed and keening with embarrassment. Her hands were still on her legs, unable to help or to stop me. "Very good," I said, "but you got some on the counter-top. You're a naughty girl. You need to be punished, don’t you agree?” She looked mortified, but I waited sternly for her meek nod.
“Bend your knees back." As she brought her legs up behind her, her arms followed. I tipped her over sideways, then laid her on her front across the kitchen sinks, hips on the edge between the two of them. Her ankles were kicked up behind her back, cuffed to her hands. Her breasts hung down in the washing sink, her legs over the drying sink. "You'll take a little spanking now", I said, and slapped her rump, gently at first. Her hands and legs tried to get in the way, so I stopped and told her to spread her legs and arms so that her rear was totally exposed. She had no choice; she did so, and I spanked her slowly until her bottom was a lovely red. My other hand massaged her breasts as they hung in the sink. A quick finger check showed that she was now quite wet inside again, her swollen pussy red and engorged. I continued stroking her from inside, fingering her clit gently, and spanking her some more, until she orgasmed quietly.
Then I lifted her down off the sink, and placed her feet once more on the floor. She was bent over once more, her ass up toward my hand. I put my finger back inside her still-wet quim, just because I could, and said, "Walk with me." I walked her into the living room, with her ass still in the air, her legs swinging as she walked.
There was a 1960's ugly sofa-bed there of a nondescript brick color and indeterminate age. I extracted my hand, seated her on the couch. While she sat there, bent over, I took a sturdy 50-pound wall eye, and screwed it into a stud behind the couch, height flush with the couch's top. Then I put a collar around her neck, with a D-ring at the back. I locked the collar on with a small padlock. Then I changed her cuffs over. I linked her hands to each other, removed one of the wrist-to-ankle cuffs, and used it instead to cuff that ankle to one foot of the couch. I removed the other wrist-to-ankle cuff and cuffed that leg to another foot of the couch, a meter away. A length of chain and two sturdy little padlocks locked her collar to the wall eye, with only a few inches' slack. She was now sitting in the couch, legs spread far apart, head up and straight, but unable to move her neck or legs very much. I removed her handcuffs and her arms were free.
"Stay there," I joked, and went back up to my bedroom, and to hers. I brought down her makeup kit, a good SLR camera, a tripod, and two good umbrella lights. She freaked out, seeing these, and I let her. She waved her arms, tried in vain to remove the gag, shouted through her nose, reached behind her to remove the locked collar. But she couldn’t really do a thing. Her neck was firmly attached to the wall, and the sofa bed weighed a ton. She couldn't lift it while sitting on it; I doubted anyone could. I just waited for the storm to die down.
"This is your test of obedience," I continued. "You will be my model as well as my slave, and you will be good at it." I tested the lighting, arrange the umbrellas to get a good shot, and take a few test snaps. She covered her face and breasts and stared at me sullenly, and I knew she’d refuse to cooperate. I looked her in the eyes. "Remember what happened the first time you broke one of our agreements?" She stared, then lowered her eyes. I persist, in a stronger voice. "And the time after that?" She nodded meekly. "Then can I trust you, for once, to stick to one this time? So you can get out in the promised 45 minutes and go to work?" Again a meek nod, and she dropped her hands to her sides, eyes low.
This is good, since I had plans for this session. "Very good. Now I'd like to try to trust you with some more freedom, so don't disappoint me. You need to get used to holding your own tongue. I'm going to take the gag out. If you speak or scream, I have a much bigger gag for you that will really stretch your jaw, understand?" She nodded vigorously. I removed the ball gag, and she coughed and dry-retched a bit. I gave her a glass of water. When she had recovered, I handed her the makeup kit and mirror. "Fix your face up. Lots of dark eyeliner please." I wait while she does. "More lipstick, darker in color, make your lips a bit fuller. Even more eyeliner. Blue shadow. Good." Now she was ready. I asked for the makeup kit back, put it away.
"Which hand do you normally masturbate with?" I casually asked. She started to protest, remembered the big gag, and sat very still. "Interesting -- you *do* know the difference between public and private information. Have you added religion to the private list yet?" She nodded, sadly. "Good. But you've agreed to be my slave for this morning, and I say that your private information is mine now. All of it. What hand do you masturbate with? Don't say anything; just put that hand between your legs." She sat stubbornly still for a minute, and I looked at her, amused. "That was a direct order", I casually mentioned, “I guess you want to see how this can get worse?” She instantly placed her left hand between her legs. "Good, now you’re already wet, so insert two fingers, good, further in, and now tilt your wrist down, and hips up. I want to see the letter "S", and a bit more pussy." Flushing with embarrassment, she posed her hand and body for the camera. Her labia were still swollen and wet from her recent excitement, and it was obvious she would like to have her fingers in there, if only nobody were watching and taking pictures. I took two shots while she was working on it, looking at her own crotch, then waited for her to look up. "Now keep looking at me, and gently bite your upper lip. Chin down, eyes up, look sultry. Other hand on your opposite breast." She followed the instructions surprisingly well, and I finally got my first proper porn photo. This one was good. The collar on her neck was suggestive, the chain was hidden behind it, the walleye likewise invisible. The cuffs on her feet were out of the frame. It was a lovely cam-girl porn shot, with no visible restraints. The flushed face and chest didn’t look bad at all. I took a few more like it.
"I like these shots, you look like a lovely girl who's just sat down at home to think of her boyfriend, instead of going in to work. Now work your fingers in and out, and really try to get turned on for me. Play with yourself in earnest." She was deadly embarrassed now, but then that seemed to make her wet, too. She began stroking herself inside, unable or not wanting at this point to resist. I took several good shots. I made her keep it up for 10 minutes or so until she came, naked and sweating, flushing and bucking against the couch. And got it all on film.
"Now, I need hardly mention that these shots should not be mailed to your mother and father, right?" She looked up, shocked. Click. Another good one. She'd just realized why I had asked for her home address. "Well, don't worry, as long as you do everything I say for the next four weeks, I promise that they won't. And now I can really trust you, right?" She nodded, defeated utterly. I took the cuffs off her ankles, leaving her tethered only to the wall by the neck. Her legs drifted slowly closed.
I fetched her work clothes from the kitchen, and handed her white blouse to her. "Put this on, no buttons yet." She slides it behind her and gets both arms into the sleeves, pulls the front closed. "Put your hand inside, play with that nipple", I said. "Push the blouse a bit, let me see the nipple. Good, other hand back inside your pussy, pretend you're about to come again." She let her mouth open slightly, bit her lip, and I took some pictures, moving her neck as necessary to keep the chain and eye hidden.
"Now put your skirt on", I continued, handing it to her. She slipped it up over her knees, onto her waist, and zipped up. "Good", I say, “now bunch it up, and put that hand back up underneath it, and keep on strumming that pussy. Massage both breasts too.” This time she looked much naughtier than naked, (Click), but something was missing. While she rubbed and grunted, I slid her pink panties back on, but left them around her ankles. Perfect. Click.
"Pull your panties up. Bunch up the skirt more, slide the crotch to one side, and keep strumming", I continued. I came over to her and did up the top blouse button. Click. Then the bottom two. Click. "Put the panties back where they belong, and rub your clit through them. Don't worry, they're already pretty wet." Click.
By now she's nearly fully dressed, and looks like she's just sat down and undone a couple of blouse buttons and shoved her hand up her skirt. I have a lovely set of photos, which when reversed, look like a striptease masturbation masterpiece. The wide-eyed shock photo, immediately post-orgasm, will make a nice finale. I let her button her blouse and put her shoes and jacket on, to complete the set. This finished off the roll. I took the jacket and shoes back.
After the hot photos, I wanted her again. And I knew just how. "Good, now unbutton the blouse. Hand it to me. Slide the panties back off." She obeyed quietly, but wondered what was up next. I told her only, "You will want a gag for this next part. Take my word for it. Do you understand?” She didn’t, but she nodded anyway. “I can see that the ball is pretty hard on you, so we'll use something else, ok?” She nodded. I bunched up her now-soaked panties, asked her to open her mouth. She held her jaw clamped, then saw my eyes, grimaced, and opened it. I stuffed the panties in. I told her that this time she would have to hold them in herself, without a strap. “If they fall out for any reason, there are more ice cubes in the freezer for you.” She shuddered and though they must have tasted awful to her, I knew those panties would stay in.
"Now put your hands on the couch. Good, and your knees too.” She was now on all fours on the couch, neck still held to the wall. She was wearing only her good skirt, which I wanted to leave there as a subtle lasting message, to assert my ownership of her body even when her work clothes were on. I flipped the skirt up all the way, and pressed it up a bit so it wouldn't fall back on its own, and began to play with her now worn and tender pussy. But I was gentle, and the humiliation of the photographs and chewing her wet panties seemed to have kept her moist. I dipped my left index finger in her wetness, and then circled her pulsing asshole with the wet finger. She moaned. I took some vaseline on the left hand and continued to circle her ass, while playing gently with her inner lips with my right hand. When her ass was relaxed, I put the vaselined finger up inside it, and gently penetrated her vagina with the right hand at the same time, filling her up. My two hands could feel each other in there, through the thin dividing tissue. I continued working her sphincter until it felt more relaxed, as she moaned and bit down on her wet panties.
By then I was sporting a solid-mahogany erection. I quickly freed it, slathered it with vaseline, and guided it into her throbbing ass, pressing hard while feeling its progress with my right hand in her vagina. She cried out, but was muffled by the gag. I could slide in only an inch, but it was enough for now. Gently, adding lubrication, I worked deeper into her, and her body shook as she moaned with pain and pleasure. As I fucked her ass I could feel the ridge of my cock sliding back and forth, through her, with my right hand’s fingers still inside her wet core. She cried out as she came, and after a pause, came again, and this set me off – two waves of juice came from me and filled her virgin ass. Liz was entirely mine, and she knew it. Jesus hadn’t stood a chance.
I went into the kitchen and cleaned myself up, and returned to find her slumped on the couch, legs apart, skirt still flipped up, uncaring. I told her she could spit out the panties now, and she pushed them into my hand with her tongue. I took them and put them over her toes, back up on her legs. I fetched her pantyhose and put those on her too, pulling them both up properly. She was as compliant as a doll by now. I decided to forget the bra. I did up the blouse, added the jacket on top, and removed the neck chain and her leather collar, leaving her dressed for work. Her makeup was more than a bit heavy, she was braless and her panties were soaked and dirty, but she was ready to roll. She had even had her pee.
"Off you go now. See you tonight, slave." She nodded submissively and tried to go up the stairs to the bathroom. "Stop", I said. "You've already cleaned yourself up as much as you have time for. Now get off to work before you get fired." She considered ignoring the order, decided not to. She turned around, looked for her purse. I handed it to her, and she left the house, in a hurry, glancing back once to meet my eye.
It was a minute's work to put away the camera and lights, and remove the screw in the wall. I fetched my keys, pocketed the roll of film, and headed out. This would be a good month--I could feel it now.
