Obnoxious Housemate 2 - Panty Patrol

A sneak preview of part 2 for those who liked Part 1.

After work the day I turned Lynn from an obnoxious housemate into, I was hoping, an obedient slave, it was Lynn’s turn to make dinner for the five of us. She had apparently taken off her makeup, and changed into more comfortable clothes -- jeans and sweatshirt, the usual student uniform at the time. She seemed to be wearing a bra, too, and I wondered to myself how she'd ever get it all off in 5 seconds, later this evening, as she'd agreed.


She was preoccupied and didn't want to look at me, which I supposed made sense. Since she wasn't permitted to speak to me, it could get awkward to interact a lot in front of the others. Plus of course, she had just been humiliated all morning and probably most of the day at work, too, with slutty-looking makeup, her bra missing, and feeling her soaked panties beneath her, with the taste of them still in her mouth.


I expected that while changing, she'd finally had a chance to inspect her new "Superman" pubic hairstyle, too. That was sure to make her think.


I let her make her spaghetti, and decided to hang out in the dining room chatting with Richard and Betty, as they came in hungry. Chuck was late as usual, but he'd probably make it by the time dinner started. I didn't have much to say to Richard or Betty actually. Betty was nearly as religious a Mennonite as her roommate Lynn was a Baptist, though she didn't feel as great a need to talk about it. She didn't seem to have much else to talk about either though. And Richard mostly kept to himself. Even Chuck, who shared a room with him, said Richard was hard to get to know. Chuck was more my speed, a polymath with interests in language, literature, and amateur psychology. But he wasn't there yet. So I gave up on Richard and Betty, and stayed quiet, thinking about what I'd do tonight with Lynn. As an interesting side problem, I wondered if there was some way I could use Lynn to brighten up these boring dinnertimes, too.


Dinner time (and Chuck) finally arrived, just as I was getting some interesting ideas, which I stored away for later on. The spaghetti was overcooked and the sauce sour and watery, but then I already knew Lynn was a slob. I tried not to think about her hygiene habits and how they might have affected the food. On the good side, though, she was remarkably quiet at dinnertime. Instead of dominating the conversation with her smug assertions and manufactured arguments about her religion and her family, she waited for others to speak, and replied politely and non-religiously, glancing occasionally at me when she didn't think I'd be looking. I grinned a big friendly ape grin and looked right back at her.


After a few of these grins, she got quiet and looked down at her plate, leaving me and Chuck to make conversation. Chuck was studying Chinese in his spare time, and was willing to pass on some tips on how to read the stuff on Chinese menus, so that kept us both occupied. I helped him with the dishes after dinner, which always meant hours of conversation, since he was the world's slowest dishwasher. I didn't mind; he was good to talk to. I would have loved to let him know about my work with Lynn this morning -- he hated her even more than I did -- but it didn't seem the type of thing to talk about, and I wanted to keep things quiet for now. I didn't know how he'd react, and I was afraid of buggering things up. I noticed that Lynn was hanging out watching TV with Betty, and it was already 10 by the time the dishes were done. At 10:30 I was expecting (hoping) Lynn to show up in my room and somehow get naked within 5 seconds -- this would be interesting. I still wasn’t sure she’d cooperate.


At 10 I went upstairs and made my bed, tidied up a bit, put on a "Superman" logo T-shirt, and came back downstairs to watch TV. Lynn saw me come in, did a double-take at the T-shirt, then controlled it and went back to watching the tube. But her face was pale, and she was chewing her lip, and she seemed restless. After a few minutes I met her eyes once, (I was sitting on the same couch we'd used earlier today, which she'd avoided), looked meaningfully at my watch, back slowly at her, then left her there to stew. I went back upstairs and sat on the edge of my waterbed, leaving the door wide open. I have to admit, I was nervous too. It wasn't every day you had someone (especially someone who really disliked you, and vice versa) agree to come and be your obedient sex slave for 4 weeks, and I had a feeling she'd try to bail out somehow.


She surprised me though. Just before 10:30 she ran up to her bedroom (I could see since my door was open), and a few minutes later she walked into the bathroom, flushed, and came over to my room. She was uncomfortable with the door open, and immediately closed it behind her, and looked at me nervously, fidgeting. She still seemed to be wearing her sweatshirt, but I noticed the jeans had been replaced with sweatpants. Good, that would help. She pushed off her running shoes with her feet. I was curious about her state of mind at this point, so I took on a dominant posture and voice, and said "Lucky you're a bit early. You still have 5 seconds left to be dressed appropriately." She looked at me pleadingly -- "do I have to?", her eyes asked.

"Three seconds left, or those cute pictures end up in the mail", I pressed.

She flushed, and quickly whipped off the sweatshirt, (nothing underneath), pulled off her socks and sweatpants, and smiled at me uncertainly, seeking approval. She was wearing only baby-blue panties with a little bow at the front. Which was not what we'd agreed on. The appropriate dress was completely naked. But there she was, posing and modeling panties for me.


Suddenly I realized two things. First, she had given up trying to bail. She was going to cooperate with a smile. She might have gone to the police, or brought three boyfriends to beat me up, or something, but she hadn't. And second, I now knew how I could liven up those boring dinners.

I hid my grin behind a scowl. "You've either broken your agreement already," I intoned, "or you can't tell the difference between wearing panties, and not wearing panties. No matter. Your punishment will correct both of these problems. I will tell you about it later." Her face fell. I didn't react, but took out a pair of handcuffs and continued, "Hold out your left hand." She came forward and gave me her left hand, meekly. I snapped the cuff on her wrist, ran the other one down under and between her legs, and without further explanation cuffed it to her right hand, behind her. She now held herself in both hands. There was just barely enough slack for her to stand up straight, but only with the chain up inside her crack a bit, so she was a bit hunched over, grabbing her own panties from front and back, but no longer able to remove them. Which would be object lesson number one. She said "But--" and cut herself off as I barked "Speaking too? You're really asking for lots of punishment for one night. I'll have to spread it over a whole week now." She apologized wordlessly, but I met it with a stony face.

"You will be on panty patrol for the next seven days. I will explain after I am satisfied. Now get on your knees." She kneeled with difficulty, one knee at a time. I removed my belt from my jeans, held it folded in one hand, and explained, "Removing the belt was my contribution. Now you will use only your mouth and teeth to remove my pants. Each time you slip or miss an attempt, I'll slap your rump with this little belt." I wouldn't normally use a belt on a bare bottom, but then hers wasn't bare, was it? She looked despairing at first, but then gamely took the corner of my jeans in her teeth and worked the buttonhole around the button. It got halfway over, then slipped out of her mouth, and she yelped as I slapped her behind with the folded belt. I realized I'd hit the back of her right hand, which wasn't my objective. I told her to keep her hand to one side, to avoid a repeat of this, and she tried. On the second try she got the button loose, and then applied herself to the zipper. It took several attempts to lower it all the way, and she got a pretty good spanking as she did, but she managed it. Then she had to figure out how to pull the pants off my hips.

I knew this was very difficult, and had already figured out the one way sure to work. She would have to open wide, grab my pants crotch and the bottom of the zipper in her mouth, and hold on tight as she pulled it all straight down. She didn't know this, but by stopping her attempts to pull from the hips, slapping her ass, and pointing where I expected her to go next, I eventually got the idea across. I felt warm moist breath on my crotch as she bit the thickest part of the jeans, under the fly, and pulled down with her head. I helped her out a bit, sliding my hand down behind my pants and lowering from behind. She may not have known. She repeated the process with my black cotton briefs, which was scarier, but fun. My erection was already present and accounted for. And then before I could tell her what to do next, she started to lick, suck, and bite me like I was her dearest boyfriend. Hmmm. This felt great, but it wasn't the impression I wanted to give. I should grab her ears and fuck her throat instead. I knew this, but somehow I just couldn't bring myself to stop a good thing. Oh well, I'll just pretend it was what I wanted.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that this strategy was dangerous somehow. But c'mon, turning down a free blow? Naaaaw. Next time. Meanwhile, I enjoyed her ministrations until I shot a nice load, mostly into her mouth, which I commanded her to swallow, and lick me clean. She obviously wasn't used to that, and was humiliated by it, but she was getting rather turned on herself (possibly because of where her hands were, and where the chain was), and she did a pretty good job. But next time, I told myself, it was a deep throat for sure.

But now I had a very aroused sex-slave on my hands, and needed to set things straight. "Stand up," I told her, and took my pants off as I watched as she brought herself standing, one knee at a time, hands otherwise occupied. "Spread your legs and show me what you're doing with your hands." I inspected the action under her waistline. I saw that her front hand, the left that she usually frigged herself with, was already deep into the now mushy-wet blue panties. I turned her around to see that she was trying to pull on her lips from behind as well, and that her fingers had already pulled aside the panties' crotch from that side, though it was definitely in the way. The chain was all tangled up in there too.

"Rub your boobs against my hands, while you finish yourself off", I said, wondering if she could even manage it with the panties in the way and soaking up all her juice. She rubbed her nipples up against my palms, which was nice enough for me, and moaned in frustration for some time but couldn't come. Again and again she tried, and she was getting tender from the chafing of the chain and panties. She rubbed her crotch against mine, and looked up at me pleadingly. This time I would be strong.

"Nice try, panty girl, but I'm afraid you've blueballed yourself this time. You'll have to finish yourself off later, perhaps in the morning. But tonight it was panties you wanted, panties you got. Never again, right?" She mimed agreement and non-verbally promised it wouldn't happen again. "Good. It won't be a problem again for a week, since you'll be on panty patrol." Here was my plan for livening up those boring dinners.

"Panty patrol means that for the next week, you won't be wearing panties at all, ever. You will also avoid jeans, trousers, and pantyhose. It's skirt time for the next week, including at the dinner table. Loose sweatpants are allowed on weekends, with no panties. You'll sleep bottomless, if you don't already. If you must wear hose, use stay-ups, or cut the entire crotch out of your pantyhose." She looked grave, thinking of work, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "The patrol part is for me", I continued. "I will be checking every day, maybe more than once, to make sure that bare pussy is feeling the breeze. Wherever you may be, if I say "panty check", you'll stop what you're doing, and quietly come stand or sit beside me. Of course, I won't say "panty check", since that would make everyone wonder. I'll pronounce it "candyfloss". But you'll know what I mean, if I say that word. Right?" She nodded, perhaps imagining what would come next.

"I will of course put my hand up your skirt, and plunge a finger or two up inside you, checking that all is well. There may be others about, so you will have to be discreet. And it won't necessarily end there. You will remain where you are until I'm finished fingering you. If I want you to come, then you'll stay until you'll come. Quietly. Nobody around is to notice. Understood?" She nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm, and pulled aside the crotch of her soaked panties, hoping I'd demonstrate right now and give her the relief she craved.

"Not tonight. You're still being punished. But I'll tell you what you can do instead. You can sleep here with me tonight. I'll attend to you in the morning." And I picked her up and laid her gently down in my bed, hands still chained back to front. I covered her up, kissed her forehead, and lay down beside her. I read a book for a while as she lay there quietly on her side, cooling down, carefully not moving her hands. Then I turned out the light, put my arm around her breasts, and went to sleep, satisfied.

At five in the morning something repeatedly nudged me awake. I felt around, noticed there was a girl in my bed, and her hands were still chained to her crotch. "Not yet!" I complained. She shook her head, looked down at her crotch, then over at the door. "mmm-mm-MMM!" Oh dear. Bladder time. Well, I didn't want her peeing all over the panties and handcuffs, so I made another little punishment out of it. I helped Lynn out of the bed, told her to stand still and wait a moment. I told her she would have to take a little chance. She squeezed her legs together. I removed the cuffs, told her to remove the panties and hand them to me. She did, with some evident relief at finally being outside them. I then walked her to the door, and told her she'd have to get to the bathroom and back naked, and hope that nobody else was up at this hour. Then I opened the door but she shrank away from it. She looked around for her clothes, but I had them near the door, and I made it clear that she had no choice. She was both reluctant and excited, so I stage whispered, "Go!". She ran to the bathroom, and I watched, but nobody else seemed to get up. A few minutes later she barged quickly back into the room and shut the door. "Welcome to panty patrol", was my greeting, holding up her crumpled panties. "You won't be needing these for another week."

Finally, she was naked in my room, and waiting for instructions, as promised. I looked down at the nice Superman "S" I'd shaved into her pubes the day before, traced it lightly with my finger. Moved my fingers a little lower, and I couldn't help but notice that she was nearly dripping wet, still. "Now I believe you were looking for a good fuck." Fortunately, my solid morning erection was waving hello, so I had the pleasure of using it for once. I put the blue panties in her mouth and told her to bite down when necessary on them. I commanded her to stand facing the waterbed, to bend over and touch her forehead to the bed, and then took her roughly from behind, while my fingers teased her ass. I don't think she climaxed. She looked ready for more, and I certainly was, so I repeated the process with a difference, this time lubricating and slowly taking her ass while my other hand monitored with a couple fingers up inside her pussy. She came explosively this time, perhaps the result of being turned on, and waiting most of the night for it. I took a quick bathroom break myself, and cleaned up.

Then I returned to the room to find her under the covers again. After she'd rested a few moments, I squeezed her boobs nicely, reminded her "for work, just a skirt", sat her up on the edge of the bed, put her sweatpants on her and helped her with the sweatshirt, and told her to carry her shoes and socks and blue panties, and return to her room. As I went back to sleep for that last two delicious hours, I wondered what she'd tell Betty. And considered how the seating arrangements at dinner would get more interesting tomorrow.

Tuesday I woke up late, a little slow from lack of sleep, but at least satisfied, rather than horny as usual. I got up to take a shower and, as usual, Lynn was in it already. I glanced around – the other bedroom doors were open and all the others were gone.

Lynn was the only one besides me who usually didn’t shower until 8, so that had to be her. Everyone else had left by now. But I wasn’t one to go pounding on doors. I waited quietly outside the bathroom until she emerged, head turbaned with a towel, yellow robe as usual. “Nice headgear, slave. Looks just like candyfloss”, I grinned. She moaned, and mimed that she was late for work. I ignored this, pulled her robe open at the bottom, checked for panties (amazingly, she wasn’t wearing any fresh from the shower), and then checked all the way up inside her, in case she was hiding any panties up there. She wasn’t, but she was rather wet and warm from the shower, and feeling stressed, and I couldn’t resist. Though I’d already had her twice earlier this morning, I was rather turned on by her shaving job, incorporating my initial, and once I’d started fingerfucking her, I just couldn’t stop until I’d turned her away from me, tilted her body down, and had her properly, doggy-style, on the floor of the upstairs landing. Her stress from being late added to my excitement, if not hers. She probably didn’t come, but I didn’t care. Shortly I finished and pulled out, and commanded her to lick my cock clean before I slapped her butt, reminded her “no panties”, and let her go off to work. She ran off and was gone before I emerged from the shower.



I got home a bit early from work that day, hoping to catch Lynn coming home, and do a proper panty check, to keep her honest at work. And she did arrive just after me. I met her at the door, with Betty watching TV just a few feet away, and motioned her to silence. She was wearing a navy blue skirt, a couple of inches above the knee, and no pantyhose, so it looked like she was taking panty patrol seriously. Just to check, I slipped my far arm around her (noticing in the process that her bra was absent too), brought her round to the wall, and put my nearest arm up behind her, squeezed one buttock, and slipped my thumb into her. Good girl, I thought, and just to give her a little shock, popped my index finger into her ass, and squeezed a little between thumb and finger. She jumped, almost tried to push my hand away, then composed herself and waited quietly as she was supposed to, to see if I’d continue. Brave of her, considering her roommate was nearby. Since the bra was missing too, I took the opportunity to slip my other hand into her shirt and remind myself for a while how good her tits felt, which wasn’t in the agreement but she didn’t seem to be objecting. Then I decided to let her go now and try to liven up dinnertime instead. I removed both hands, slapped her ass, and said, “You pass. Off you go, now.”



At Tuesday dinner, Lynn sat, as usual, at the head of the table, and seemed animated, talkative once more. But this meant she was less under control, too. She replied to one of Chuck’s comments with one of her smug biblical quotes, and I caught her eye and pointed a finger. She reddened, fell silent, and ate quietly. I mentioned, a bit loudly, that the jello dessert Richard had made tasted just like candy floss. Richard asked what was wrong with it, and I told him no, not to worry, it was a compliment. In fact, I really liked candy floss. By now, Lynn had walked over, bringing her dessert, and quietly seated herself beside me. There was no extra chair there, so I scooted over to let her share mine. Since both Lynn and I acted natural about it, I guess nobody thought to ask why. At least, not aloud.



Since she had one buttock off the chair, it was pretty easy for me to slip my nearest hand up inside her, and I noticed she had been anticipating this – she was quite wet, much more than before. We both finished off our jello as I danced my finger where her inner lips met, while plunging two more fingers deep inside her to bring out more lubrication. I kept up a stream of inane comments about the jello, and my favorite desserts, as I massaged inside Lynn’s pussy discreetly. Lynn was unable to speak, but she avoided moaning. Her breathing seemed a bit heavy, that was all. Her far leg was trembling violently from supporting half her weight, and from the excitement. The others got up to clean off the table, but I kept her there until she seemed about to come, then I stopped, and said “Later”. Then I cleared off the remaining plates on the table and brought them into the kitchen, disappearing quickly upstairs before anyone asked why my hand smelled funny. Lynn didn’t seem to be in the mood to hang out with others either. She retired early.



Of course, by 10:30 I was still expecting her in my room, and she was there. She came in straight from her room, wearing her work outfit, the same navy skirt, but her shoes and socks were gone already. Her blouse had the top 2 buttons undone, as well as the shirtcuffs. She quickly pulled off her blouse over her head, unzipped the skirt and stepped out of it, and was naked well within 5 seconds. Her pussy lips were darkened and swollen, and damp, and I knew why she’d been in her bedroom alone.

“Good slave”, I said. “But you forgot yourself earlier, and spoke of your religion.” She looked a bit frightened, as well she should be. Last time we’d spoken of religion, I had put Jesus up her ass, and she probably expected it again. Well, my thick dick was bigger than that butt plug I’d used on her last time, and it seemed a more than adequate substitute to me. So I said, “You’ll need to take this notepad and start writing.” I put a spiral notebook and pen on my desk, but stopped her sitting in the chair, wanting her to bend over the desk to write instead. I remained standing behind her. “Write 'I will not discuss religion with non-Baptists. This I swear in Jesus' name', I commanded. She wrote this down. “Write it again.” She did.

“Now keep writing that promise, over and over, and don’t stop, no matter what I do. And be quiet.” She shivered, and kept writing. Behind her I took off my pants, lubed up my already hard dick, and, since she was conveniently bending over naked in front of me, pressed it into her ass. She started to cry out, then bit her lip and silenced herself. I whispered in her ear “Keep writing. Remember Jesus? He’s back in your ass, just like you shove him up everyone else’s.” She whimpered, and her knees shook. But she kept writing. I continued to add more lube, and worked my dick slowly deeper into her tight behind. I slipped a couple of fingers inside her pussy, where I met with her other hand, which seemed to have already been strumming like mad at her happy pearl. Even with all the lube, the ass-penetration was much harder going this time than previous time, when I’d carefully prepared her and relaxed her sphincter. But this wasn’t supposed to be fun, it was punishment. She grunted with each thrust, even with her lip tightly bitten. I was being careful, since I didn't want to cause injuries that would make her unavailable for next time. I checked her work, and she was still writing, though her handwriting was shaky and slow, and she had trouble staying on the lines.

I told her “You may not come without permission, understand? Slow down if you need to, but wait until I give permission.” She moaned and nodded agreement.

I managed to work myself in nearly three inches, very slowly, as she yipped with each successful thrust. She was speeding up and slowing down with her own fingers, and I speeding up and slowing down my fingers to match hers, to keep her from coming too soon. When I felt I was close, I said “You may come when I do, but not before.” She nodded, her body shaking. I continued, slowly, and I had penetrated her ass a good 5 inches when I filled her ass with hot spunk, and she gasped with pleasure and pain, and orgasmed so violently she nearly hit me in the nose with her head. I stayed in there for several minutes afterward, reminding her to keep writing, feeling the tight squeeze of her ass muscles keeping me hard. I played with her pert breasts while she wrote, mauling them a little this time instead of my usual gentle treatment. I noticed that she was in severe discomfort, but still getting turned on by the rough treatment. Was there nothing I could do that she wouldn’t like?



“Keep writing, I expect another full page when I return”, I said over my shoulder as I pulled out, donned a robe and went to the bathroom to wash off. Chuck was there as I went by his room on the way back, and he wanted to speak, but I put him off gently and continued into the room, shielding the open doorway with my body as I entered. I took off my robe and the rest of my clothes, while I thought of a fitting ending.

I checked and she had indeed filled another page and a half while I was gone. I dipped my finger inside her and found she was still extremely wet, and still seemed responsive rather than worn out. “Still wet, little slut? What a good little slut. You look like you need some cock now, right?” I hadn’t spoken like that to anyone before, and I really wasn’t sure how she’d react. Amazingly, she just nodded, eyes wide, and bit her lip.

“Well, then, I’ll need to tie you up a bit”, I said, taking the pen and closing the book. She trembled a bit, but just nodded. I guess she’d had only nice experiences with bondage so far. “Now get on the bed, and lay on your side facing me.” She quickly preceded me to the bed. I took some purple bondage straps I’d bought after Monday. I bound her ankles to her thighs, and rolled her onto her back, leaving her legs in a permanent frog position above her. Then handcuffed her wrists, one to each thigh. She could reach her pussy now, but not much else. I told her to start masturbating, which she seemed happy to do. While she did, I put a special bit in her mouth, and strapped it behind her head. She would be unable to bite down, but the bit would depress her tongue more than most, leaving a nice passage to her throat guaranteed.



“Your pussy is your own job tonight”, I continued. “But your mouth is mine. Whisper now. Open wide and say “eeeeeee”. She repeated the vowel, mouth wide open, while I sprayed several doses of Chloraseptic anesthetic spray down her throat. That should handle the gag reflex. I flipped her over onto her stomach, with her weight now supported on her frogged legs and her shoulders, on the waterbed. Then I got on the bed near her head, and put my legs around her, shoved her open mouth over my cock, grabbed her ears and pumped away down her throat. She was horribly uncomfortable, I’m sure, since she was snorting and blowing snot while trying to breathe. But I was able to reach the back of her throat. I kept my cock there for long periods, feeling her warmth, then pulled it back for a bit so she could breathe, then repeated the process. After several minutes, it became just wonderful and I shot the full load down her throat. I pulled partly out and she had to swallow to breathe. I have to admit, it was uncomfortable for me to be this hard on her. I tried to hide that.

After she swallowed, she coughed and sputtered for a while, getting snot and drool on my body, and I helped by removing the bit. Then I rolled her onto her back again, and said “OK, you need to come before we’re done.” She nodded and motioned to show that she already had. “Again, then.” And I waited there, watching sternly, while she quickly worked herself back to frenzy in her bound state, then finally moaned as she finished off once more. I checked to be sure her legs were the right color, that she wouldn’t have a circulation problem. Then I commanded her to lick my body clean of all the snot and drool she’d made.

“Good night, then. Don’t talk about the Bible any more”, I finished, as I put the covers over her, slipped into bed, and turned off the lights. She started to protest that she was still frogtied, but realized that it wouldn’t help, and lay there in the dark beside me, knees, hands and feet in the air, trying to sleep instead.

At five in the morning she rolled over onto me to wake me, moaning and nibbling my ear. I woke up, irritably, and realized that she again had to pee. And she was still neatly frogtied. “This time,” I whispered, “you’ll have to wait a bit.” Since her bottom and pussy were about as available as they could be, I took full advantage of them as she squirmed and moaned with her full bladder, pounding her pussy hard and with a finger all the way in her ass, until I was completely satisfied. I didn’t try to make her come, and if she did, I didn’t notice or care. I was just glad she didn’t lose control and pee in the bed. Then I untied her, and she collapsed. Her legs were like jelly. Treating her like a Barbie doll, I put her blouse and skirt back on her, then tilted her up to a sitting position, walked her around the room until her legs worked again, and sent her off to the bathroom and her own bed. “Remember, no panties, no Jesus.”

* * *


Wednesday morning I was up earlier than I expected to be, and I actually had time after my shower to eat a nice breakfast. Richard and Chuck had already left for work, and Betty was just starting her breakfast already. I wished her a cheerful good morning, and she gave me a peculiar look, but returned the greeting noncommittally. Betty left shortly. I finished my breakfast slowly and was about to leave, wondering if Lynn had slept late or left early, when I saw her coming down the stairs, a bit more quickly than usual. She seemed pleased to see me, and paused on the stairs, showing me her shortish pink skirt. And flashed me, lifting the front of the skirt so I could easily see that there were, in fact, no panties under it. I could also see her big shaved “S”, and the marks on her thighs from last night’s bindings. This was too easy. Monday this girl and I had had a healthy loathing for each other, and she was deeply religious and priggish. Today she was an exhibitionist slut, and seemed to enjoy her humiliations. And she was volunteering now. I would have to disabuse her of that notion.

"That's the right outfit, all right" I said. "But I choose the time to check, you do not. And the time will be tonight, at dinner. Richard's cooking. Don't be late." And with that, I left for work.

The bus was slow in coming, and before it arrived, Lynn had joined me in the crowd at the stop, apparently skipping breakfast. She seemed a bit embarrassed to see me this time, standing on the other side of the crowd, and I had a notion why. I had told her I wouldn't check until dinnertime, so maybe she was trying to get away with something. I said out loud, "I would just love some candyfloss right now", and turned to look directly at her. Reluctantly, she made her way through the crowd toward me, and when she came near, I slipped my hand up the back of her skirt. Sure enough, she was wearing some forbidden panties. Oh, was she going to be in trouble tonight. But for now, I looked directly at her, as she looked down in shame and anticipation. "Hand them over", I commanded quietly. She was shocked. She motioned with her head at all the people nearby, waiting for the same bus, some of them in arm's reach. "Now", I said, in a voice she could only interpret as a direct order. She turned her back to the crowd and quickly peeled off the panties from under her skirt, down over her shoes and back up into her hand, hoping nobody had noticed. And handed them to me. They were not her usual standard cotton briefs. They were black-and-red polyester "lingerie", with a lace-and-satin look, the kind student girls buy to impress their boyfriends. Not her usual style at all. I took them and pocketed them, wondering if this was a set-up. The bus finally arrived, and I brought her with me onto the bus, and onto a forward-facing double seat.

The bus was crowded, and more people got on with each stop. But it didn't matter. Lynn sat beside me, desperately trying to look normal as my hand beneath her short pink skirt plundered her slippery depths, while making gentle circuits with my thumb around her swollen pearl. When she finally orgasmed, biting her lip and bucking a bit in the seat, she had gone three stops past her own, and a couple of standees nearby were turning their heads away discreetly. I hoped she wouldn't be too late for work, after yesterday. She pushed her way off the bus. When I reached my stop, I discreetly wiped my hand off on her fancy polyester panties, and dropped them into a trash bin on the way.

Panty patrol had been a good idea.

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Wow, Rhabbi's story gets over 150 views, this one posted within an hour gets 9. Rhabbi's story is in fact excellent, but obviously I have some reputation building to do... I suppose it will help when I can post a story and have it show up online within a couple of days.
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