Amazon dot cum
by Couture
email: couture_writes@hotmail.com
(FF, MF, domination, chastity)
Please do not read if under 18 years of age or offended by
sexually explicit stories and situations.
(c) 2002 Couture
***********
"Fuck her," I said as I drove home. I wouldn't get earrings or my nails done. It was bad
enough that she pulled that shit on me at work, but there was no way I was going to allow
her to control my private life. Then I realized that if I went home, I would have to
explain to my husband why I was home early.
I fingered the ten dollar bill. Maybe I would get my nails done. I certainly derserved it
after all I had been through, but there was no way I was going to wear trampy big hooped
earrings to work tomorrow. No way in hell.
I was a little late getting home after I had my nails done, but that wasn't unusual and Bill
was watching TV in his boxers as usual. A bag of potato chips and several cans of beer
were on the table next to his feet. He was home all day with nothing to do and the house
was in worse shape than when I left this morning.
I wanted to be mad. I deserved more than this . . . especially after what I had been
through. I should cuss him out, but I needed something. *I* needed relief.
"What's for dinner hon?" he asked, not bothering to look back at me.
I reached beneath my skirt, shucked off my panties, then put them to my nose and inhaled
my musky aroma. God, I needed a fuck.
I strutted over to his chair, unbuttoning my blouse on the way. "Me," I said.
I didn't even bother to take off my clothes; I just hiked up my skirt and sat in his lap. I
ground against him until he grew hard. I fished his cock out of the fly of his drawer and
he slipped easily into my pussy and soon we were making love.
I was his wife again, not some cheap office whore. A pussy girl. At least I was until I
leaned back and raked my nails over his chest.
It was the nails that did it. They made me think about Thandi's demands and then about
Thandi herself. I couldn't help but imagine I was back on the floor between her legs -
pleasuring her. "Can't you do anything right?" she demanded.
I shook my head to clear the forbidden images from my mind, but I began to doubt
myself. What if Bill didn't enjoy me? Was I a bad lover?
"Is it good for you baby? Am I doing it right?" I asked Bill.
"Oh yeah baby," he grunted. "You're doin' real good."
But he would lie, wouldn't he? Instead of Bill, I saw images of Thandi, looking down at
me, disapprovingly. Yes, he would lie.
I began to bounce harder. The sofa squeaked beneath us.
"How's that baby? Is that better?" I kissed him deeply, tasting the beer on his breath, and
tweaked his nipples through his t-shirt.
"Oh God," he grunted. "Fuck, I'm cumming."
I milked him with my pussy, trying to get myself off. I wasn't even close and he was
rapidly growing softer. I reached beneath me and cupped my pussy so his cum wouldn't
leak out as I stood. I walked pigeon-toed to the bathroom, looking at the clock on my
way. Two minutes had passed. Fuck.
I locked the door behind me, sat down on the toilet, spread my legs. Sometimes, if you
want something done right you have to do it yourself. I lightly tweaked my nipples,
while my other hand traveled down to my sex. Two fingers thrust in and out of my cum-
filled pussy, while I circled my clit with my forefinger.
I wish I could say that I was thinking of Bill, but instead my mind was on her - that
coloured bitch Thandi. She was disappointed by my masturbation technique. Was I
really that bad? Had I missed out on something when I masturbated myself?
I fluttered my manicured nails over my clit and teased my opening with a finger, instead
of my usual around the clit and in and out method. es, that felt good. I was missing out.
I got intimate with my cunt for the next twenty minutes and experimented. It was
something I should have done ages ago.
I was sitting there, legs spread wide, one hand stretching my pussy wide, the other lightly
spanking my moist pink flesh, sending jolts of pleasure through my body, when suddenly,
my reverie was broken by a loud knocking on the door.
"Did you fall in?" Bill said.
"No." Goddamnit, I thought to myself. "I'll be out in just a minute." Asshole, you
came, didn't you? Give me just a goddamn minute more.
"Well hurry up. I'm hungry."
I tried to finish myself off, but the moment was broken. I took a cold washcloth and
wiped my steaming pussy. I'll be back for you later baby, I promised my aching sex.
************
Unfortunately, later came, but my pussy didn't. I spent the rest of the night cooking and
cleaning. I went to bed early for some *alone time*, nobody but us girls. In five minutes
my husband came to bed. His back was to me, but it was also touching me.
I tried for a few minutes. Gently moving my fingers in tiny circles around my clit, but it
is impossible to satisfy myself without being discovered. It was difficult to sleep, I kept
thinking back to what happened with my new black boss earlier that day. The thoughts
were arousing.
I wondered what was wrong with me.
*************
The next morning I dressed and went to work. By the time I walked through the door,
my heart was pumping and my knees were shaking with fear. The urge to pee was
overwhelming, so I stopped at the bathroom before I went to my desk.
The morning passed without mishap. I was even in a meeting with Thandi and she
ignored me, which I was glad of. Afterwards, I sat at my desk, slightly relieved that
maybe yesterday was the end of our bizarre relationship. She did say that I didn't do a
very good job, so it was possible that she decided to make someone else her 'Pussy girl'.
I smiled at the thought, looking around the office and wondered who it might be.
Then my phone rang. It was her.
"Tracy, please report to my office."
"Yes, ma-am," I said.
I could hear the blood pound in my ears as I hurried to her office. Would I be fired? Or
would she make me masturbate her again? Or would she act as if nothing ever happened.
I opened her door and she was sitting there looking more than a little impatient impatient.
"Close the door and lock it," she said. "When I ask you to report to my office, I expect
you here promptly. Is that understood?"
"Yes, ma-am." I hurried straight here, I wanted to argue, but bit my tongue and locked
the door.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked. "You know the procedure."
"Ma-am?"
She shook her head disapprovingly. "Shit, what an incompetent," she muttered. "Take
off your clothes and put them on the desk, then come over here and *report* to me." The
way she said *report*, it left little to the imagination. She pointed down at her crotch,
smirking all the while.
Oh God, she was going to make me do it again. I started to take off my clothes.
"I don't have all day, girl," she said.
I hurriedly stripped, until I was naked, with my hands covering the more private areas.
"Come here," she said. "Don't kneel down yet. I bought you a present."
"Move your hands," she said.
My pussy was inches from her face. I was turned on and humiliated beyond belief. I
prayed she wouldn't discover my aroused condition. She ignored my distress, and
proceeded to put a strange device on me. First, one hoop went around my waist and a
smooth mound went over my crotch. Another hoop went between my legs and she
fastened them all together.
The crotch piece was covered by a form fitting piece of Styrofoam. I gasped when she
removed it. The silver mound looked just like my own, only everything was exaggerated.
It was puffy, the lips were distended, and the clit rose up from it like a tiny cock. It was a
gross perversion of the female sex, and it cupped me and cradled me at the same time.
She grabbed a small round protuberance, and turned it.
"Now, pull it out and give it to me," she said.
I pulled out what appeared to be a key and reluctantly gave it to her. Something inside
told me things had just went to another level, but I her eyes told me to give it to her
anyway.
"What is it?" I asked.
She arched an eyebrow at me.
"What is it ma-am?" I corrected myself.
She said, "I call it our new profit sharing plan. You remember yesterday when I said it
was my job to motivate my girls. Well this is your motivation, a chastity belt."
Oh shit, this was too much. I tugged at the device and tried to get it off. I looked for the
key, but she locked it in her desk.
"Are you finished yet?" she asked.
"Give me the key," I demanded, grabbing at her hand. "This is going to way too far."
"I'll give it to you when you've earned it," she laughed, smirking at me and easily
keeping the key from my grasp.
"I'll get someone to cut it off."
"I'd like to see you explain how you got it. And just look at it," she said, her gaze
traveling up and down it's very realistic looking lips. "It's so embarrassing, isn't it? No,
I don't think you will be showing it to anyone."
Tears welled in my eyes. In my heart, I knew she was right. I tried a different tact.
Begging: "Please ma'am. Take it off. I don't won't to do this anymore."
"Sure. But first I want some relief. I'm feeling a little tense today."
I sank to my knees. Defeated.
"I think I will stay in my chair today," she said, raising her hips, so that I could remove
her panties.
She placed her legs over the arms of her chair and leaned back. I proceeded to
masturbate her. She smiled when she saw my nails.
"Your nails are absolutely gorgeous," she said. "Are they mine?"
"Yes ma-am." Somehow I was pleased that she noticed. Bill never mentioned them last
night.
"I love the way the color looks against my skin," she said.
It was a French manicure. The nails were the white and the pink. They stood out, bright
as neon, contrasting with her dark skin. I teased her clit with my nail, trailed it along her
slit, before cupping her whole pussy in my hand and squeezing lightly, a move I had
discovered last night, before I was rudely interrupted.
"See," she breathed. "You are better already."
I blushed, unable to meet her eyes.
"Look at me."
I still couldn't. I stared at my fingers and at her sex.
"I said. Look at me. My eyes, not my cunt."
It was harder to do than you would think, especially, when you are naked and kneeling
between the legs of a fully clothed woman.
I met her eyes and her gaze was penetrating. It fucked me. It fucked me to my soul.
"That's it pussy girl. I can see you now. I can see it in your eyes that you are going to
give me a good cum this time. Aren't you pussy girl?"
I nodded my head. My flushed cheeks burned. This was what I dreamed of the night
before, of servicing her, of her condescending attitude and her superior stare that bored
from my eyes straight to my sex. I needed to cum so badly and now even that had been
taken from me.
"I love those soft white fingers, pussy girl. They've never been spoiled with calluses
from hard work, have they? Have they?" She was breathing heavy. The corners of her
mouth turned up - half sly grin - half sexy pout.
"No ma'am."
"Yes, so soft . . . so tender. I bet you are soft and tender all over."
I thought back to my first maid. She was an older colored woman. She would massage
my feet with her hard calloused hands after I came in from the office. I tried to imagine
her servicing my pussy like I was servicing Ms. Moore's. Instead, my fantasy took a turn
for the worse and I was on my knees in front my former maid.
I gasped and opened my eyes due to a sudden pain shooting from my nose. Thandi held
my nose between her thumb and forefinger.
"I said, look at me girl and I meant it. Look at my eyes and my face while you work.
That is how you know if you are doing a good job, little pussy girl."
I concentrated on pleasing her again. My fingers dance and teased, prodded and probed.
Her face softened and she was right, it provided a road map to her pleasure. A closing of
the eyes, a gasp, or a biting of the lower lip, meant to continue. Her eyes opening to look
at me meant she wanted me to do something else. A wince meant she didn't like it and I
wasn't to repeat that again.
"You're going to make me cum you pussy. My little pussy girl. Make me cum with your
fingers. Your soft white fingers. Work those fingers girl. Look at me, not my cunt."
God she was demanding and my hands were tired, but I continued on. Masturbating her
to the best of my ability.
Her face contorted. The veins in her neck stood out. Her breathing grew ragged. Her
hips bucked. The chair squeaked.
This is what an orgasm looks like, I thought.
"God, I'm oh-oh-I'm cumming," she announced, as she grabbed both my ears and pulled
my face into her pussy. I didn't know what to do since my fingers couldn't reach her, so
I just held still and stared at her. Stared at her, while she used my face as some sort of
masturbation device.
Her face told the story of her orgasmic bliss. Gradually, it grew more relaxed, the
thrusting of her hips fainter, and thankfully her grip on my ears lessened. Her eyes
fluttered open and then widened in shock to see my face trapped between her thighs,
pulled tight against her sex.
She let go of my ears and I pulled back.
"Did I hurt you, my tender girl?" she asked, rubbing my ears and then stroking my hair.
"No," I said. "I'm alright." I kept my stare directed at her face. It was hard, part of me
wanted to look at her pussy, to see what it looked like after all my hard work.
Her eyes hardened. "Well, what are you staring at? Clean me up and do something with
your face. It's a mess. Then, get dressed and get back to work. Don't think for a minute
that this changes anything. I expect you to still do your job and I expect you to do it
right."
Thankless bitch.
"Yes, ma-am," I said, trying my best to keep my thoughts hidden, as I cleaned her sex
with tissues. Afterwards, I cleaned myself and dressed. She stopped me at the door.
"Oh, and Tracy," she said as an after thought. "You did an excellent job. I'm very
pleased with your performance."
I couldn't believe she said that. I was naked, on my knees, giving her an orgasm and she
commends me like I did good work on the Pittman project. What do you say to that? I
was only doing it because you forced me, you psycho bitch. No, I couldn't say that. She
still had the box in the corner and a pink slip with my name on it, not to mention the key
to this damned belt.
"Thank you ma-am," I muttered, my blushing face pointing to the floor, my eyes cast up
at her from underneath my bangs. I caught myself in a bob. She did too and smiled
condescendingly.
"Get me a cup of coffee when you come back and don't forget to freshen your face."
Yes, my face. My pussy scented face. I repaired the damage to my makeup, but I still
smelled like her. I hurried to the bathroom, washed my face and fingers, reapplied my
makeup, got her a cup of coffee, and gave it to her. She didn't even bother to look up,
just motioned with her hands, as if to say; hurry along girl - my little pussy girl.
I returned to work, still smelling the odor of her sex in my nostrils, and praying that no
one else could. The steel chastity belt was uncomfortable. The way it hugged my sex,
kept me aroused and always thinking about it. I found the only way to function, was to
pour myself into my work.
The day flew by. I had lunch with Ms. Moore, per her request. I could feel the stares of
my coworkers, as if I had sold them out, by kissing up to the head bitch. I ate the salad
she ordered for me. I didn't have a say in the matter and we chatted about work. As if
we were friends and had a normal working relationship. Afterwards, we returned to work
and I threw myself into it again.
The phone rang, I looked down to see her number, and my heart started to pound. I
picked it up.
"Yes, ma-am?"
"Report to my office at once, Tracy."
"Yes, ma-am."
I hurried to her office, my legs a blur beneath my skirt. I opened the door, locked it, and
started to disrobe.
"Leave them on," she said. "You've done a good job today Tracy, and I'm letting you
off early to run a few errands." She slid a key ring to me and I took it.
She handed me a map and fifty dollars. "The keys are to my house. I want you to go to
the drycleaners and pick up my clothes, and pick up a take-out meal for dinner. Chinese
would be nice. Get enough for two. Take it all to my house, you have a map. When you
get there, I want you to change clothes and get on my treadmill. Just push start, don't
touch the programming and do it until it stops. Don't leave until I get home."
This was the second day she let me off early and co-workers were starting to notice. I
kept my eyes downcast, unable to meet their agitated glances, praying they wouldn't see
the outline of the steel belt, encasing my pussy.
I did as she requested, and every time I got up or sat down, the belt cupped and caressed
my sex. As I rode to her house, I realized I was hot. No, not just hot, I was desperate. I
even felt like I could have molested the young clerk at the drycleaners. My hand snuck
beneath my skirt and I tried to circumvent the belt, but I couldn't so much as wiggle a
little finger beneath the cruel, unyielding steel. I pulled the car over, had a little cry and
then summoned the strength to begin driving again.
By the time I arrived at her house, I had resigned myself to the situation. A situation that
couldn't last forever; I just needed to be patient.
Her house was not quite what I imagined. For some reason I pictured a huge mansion. It
wasn't. It was even slightly smaller than mine. I took the food and clothes in her house,
and found the outfit she wanted me to exercise in, laying on her bed. I stripped and sat
down on the bed, and instead of dressing, I tried once again to circumvent the belt. I
couldn't.
To my horror, I found that the outfit I was to wear wasn't much of an outfit at all, only a
sports bra and a thin pair of shorts with a built in thong that left little to the imagination.
I put them on, stepped on the stairclimber, and pressed start.
It was hard work. My legs and ass burned like mad. I was tempted several times to turn
the machine down, but I hesitated at the last moment. Her instructions were firm
regarding this matter and usually the machine seemed to sense I was about to give up and
the intensity would grow less.
The wall was one giant mirror. It was impossible not to look at myself while I exercised.
My sweat had soaked the white bra making my pink aureoles clearly visible. The shaped
mound of the chastity belt was clearly visible through the bottoms. Even though I knew
what I was seeing was only steel, my mind seemed drawn to the shape of a large gaping
sex with a hard clit sticking out. Seeing myself this way in the mirror only served to
stoke the flames of my increasingly frustrating need for sex.
The exercise program finally ended, and I got off and took a shower. While I was there I
tried to wiggle my soapy fingers into the belt, but it wouldn't yield. I had to settle for
massaging my soapy breasts. It felt nice, but it did nothing to give me release and only
served to let me know just how bad a fix I was in.
Then I remembered the keys!
I quickly dried off, wrapped the towel around me, and found her key ring by the door. I
sat down on the couch and tried every key in hopes of opening the belt. No luck.
Speaking of luck, it was at that moment she opened the front door catching me there red
handed.
"What the hell are you doing slut?" she demanded.
"Nothing," I said, hiding the keys behind my back.
She slid the thin narrow belt from the loops of her skirt as she approached me. "I see you
need a lesson about lying *and* disobedience."
"What are you doing?" I said, getting up from the couch and backing away from her. She
couldn't do what it looked like she was going to do, could she?
She pursued. I fled. She grabbed the towel. Naked but for the belt I wore, I continued to
flee. She caught me in the hall, forcing me down to the carpet and sat on my back to
keep me there.
The belt leapt out, kissing my backside painfully. I tried to shield myself from the blows
with my hands, but she held my arms trapped between my sides and her thighs. She
quickly made easy work of me, the belt whistling in the air, punctuated by the sound of
leather on flesh, ending in my cries.
It never seemed to end. I tried to fight, but eventually just have up, laboring for breath
between sobs and clenching with each painful blow.
Finally, I felt her getting up. I tried to push myself up.
"Don't move," she warned me. "Or I'll start over from the beginning."
She didn't have to tell me twice. I lay there obediently, not moving a muscle even as she
stuffed something in my mouth.
"I'm tired of listening to you blubber," she said.
The taste and odor hit me. I realize what it is she's put in my mouth. Her panties.
I spit them out.
"It looks like I need to start your obedience lesson all over again," she says.
"No, wait," I said. "Anything but that."
She held the panties to my mouth again and I forced myself to open.
"Ask me nicely."
Dear God, she was going to make me to ask for them. "Please," I begged.
"Please what?"
"Please put your panties in my mouth."
"Since you insist," she said, forcing her soiled undergarment into my mouth.
I could taste her. Worse, I had begged for it.
"It seems you have learned obedience," she said. "Now, let's address the lying."
"Mmmmphhhh..." I cried through the panty gag.
She removed them. "Something to say?" she asked.
"Please, I-I can't take anymore on my ass," I begged crying.
She rubbed her hand over my burning bottom cheeks. I could feel the ridges she had cut
into me with the small belt. "Yes," she said. "These have been marked pretty good.
How about you take the rest on your fat white thighs?"
"Please don't," I muttered.
"Ass or thighs," she said. "You pick."
Damned if I did, damned if I didn't. ". . . thighs." I chose.
"No," she said. "Ask me for it. And you better start showing me respect."
Why was she doing this to me? What had I ever done to her to deserve this? "Please
ma'am," I begged. "Can I have the rest on my thighs?"
"Sure you can my little pussy girl," she cooed, stuffing her panties back in my mouth.
"Just roll over for me and spread those pudgy legs of yours."
I rolled over on my back and parted my legs.
"Spread them slut," she ordered. "Spread them like you do for all those white boyfriends
of yours."
My cheeks burned with humiliation. I longed to tell her I had a husband not a bunch of
boyfriends, but I couldn't due to the gag in my mouth. Instead, I spread my legs wide,
obeying her, while she hiked up her skirt and sat down on my chest.
"I think five on each of your fat thighs should be enough for you to learn your lesson,"
she said, before announcing, "Here it comes."
She struck me with the end of the belt on the inside of one thigh, paused a second and
then hit the other. It wasn't until she hit me the second time that the pain from the first
blow registered and when it did, it really registered. It felt like I had been bee-stung all
along the inside of my thigh. My legs flew closed and I rubbed my thighs together trying
to lessen the pain, but only serving to rub one dark welt against the other.
"Come on whore," she said, shifting her weight on my chest. "Get those legs apart."
It was slow work getting back in position. My body didn't want to obey my mind, but
eventually I was able to spread my shaking and trembling legs apart.
"Wider, Tracy-girl," she said, shifting again on my chest. I became aware of what she
was doing. She was grinding against me and getting off on this - getting off on punishing
me and there was nothing I could do about it.
I submitted to her, drawing my legs up and spreading them wide, knees and feet spread
out like a common whore.
"Two," she said, strapping my thighs with the belt on the inside of each of my thighs.
This blow hurt even more, causing me to buck and squirm underneath her.
"Ahhh," Thandi groaned. "Again."
I was crying and sobbing through the panty gag. My hips pumped as the tried to dissipate
the pain.
I was also turned on. My pussy quivered, desperate for stimulation. My nipples were so
hard, they hurt. I spread my legs again. Again and again, she let my body taste her
leather belt. I could feel her wet pubes sticking to my chest as she ground against me.
She kept going, whipping the insides of my spread thighs until I had five bright red
stripes on each one. Her hips ground against me the whole time.
At the end, I lay splayed underneath her. She idly traced one of the welts.
"I love the way the red looks against your skin," Thandi said, looking back over her
shoulder and looking down at me. "And do you know what else I would like to see?"
I shook my head, unable to speak for the panties in my mouth.
She spun around, straddling me now from the front. "Those pretty white fingers working
my black pussy."
This I could do. It was a task far simpler than being whipped.
My fingers entered her easily. I fucked her with shallow thrusts, alternately bringing
them out and diddling her clit. Her head rolled to the side, before rolling down and
looking down at me with a superior grin.
I blushed, looking down, unable to meet those piercing brown eyes. Not after what she
had done to me. I was sure she would see my murderous rage.
"Look at me, my tender little pussy girl," she cooed, tilting my head back, and pulling the
panties from my mouth.
I forced myself to meet her eyes and try not to get lost in her power. Her pink tongue
darted out of her mouth and licked her lips. God, she looked sexy and the thought scared
me to the core.
I hate you. I chanted in my head as a mantra.
She panted, rolled her hips in a circle, and gasped. "So angry the way you look at me
little pussy girl, my white finger fucking pussy girl."
I looked back down in fear. Afraid she would beat me again.
She tilted my head back up. "No, I like it," Thandi said. "Tell me what you are thinking
right now or I will whip those milky white tits of yours."
I couldn't tell her; she would whip me anyway. And Jesus, she was going to do it on my
breasts.
"I hate you," I whimpered, looking back at her accusingly.
"Yes!" she cried, squeezing her nipples and running her hand down her body. "Come on
girl do my clit while you do my pussy."
I worked her pussy with both of my hands. I hated her. I wanted to be her. I wanted my
pussy playing with.
"You're my girl now," she said. "I've turned you. I've turned you into a pussy girl. My
pussy girl. How does it feel?"
"I hate you," I spat. "I hate you. I hate this. I hate the way my ass burns. I hate the way
my thighs feel. I hate the way people at work look at me. I hate the way my pussy aches.
. ."
"Oh-yes, I love it. Ugh-here-it-comes."
"I hate you. I hate watching you orgasm. I hate. . ."
Her hips bucked lewdly, displaying her carnal desires. As if to say, look at me orgasm,
don't you wish you could? And I did. I wished more than anything to be sweating and
humping in pleasure.
Ah-ah-ugh-fuck-fuck-I'm-cumming," she cried, before collapsing on my face and
smothering my tirade with her sex and thighs.
I hated her. I hated her and I wanted to be her. I wanted an orgasm. I wanted to . . . taste
her.
She got off of me and to my disbelief, looped the belt around my neck and pulled me to
the couch as if I were some sort of animal. "Mmmm-you tossed me off good that time,"
she said, running her fingers through my hair.
I wanted to say fuck you bitch, let me up, I'm not a goddamn dog. Instead I said,
"Thanks. Can I go please?"
"Not yet. I think you deserve a treat," she said. She pulled a gift box out of her purse
and handed it to me.
I sat kneeling in front of her, with my hands covering my breasts, staring at the package
as if it might blow up.
"Go on. Take it." Her voice left no room for discussion.
Reluctantly, I took my hands from my breasts and opened the package. I gasped at the
first hint of glitter. It was a large gold bracelet and very nicely made and a pair of
earring. There was a golden cats dangling from the bracelet, and it had jeweled eyes.
The clasp was held together by a fairly large golden lock. The earrings were hoops, with
identical cats in the loops.
"I-I don't know what to say," I said.
"Say thank you Miss Moore."
"Thank you Miss Moore."
"Here, let me put it on you," Thandi said, pulling her gold necklace from between her
breasts. On the end of the chain was a gold key which she used to unlock the clasp on the
bracelet. I knew at that moment it was the key to my chastity as well.
"You like?" she said, dangling the key in front of my eyes.
"Please, ma'am" I begged. "Unlock me."
"You have to earn it first."
God, how I needed that key. "How?" I asked.
She replaced the key between her breasts and closed the lock shut on my bracelet. Then
she held my arm up to the light and flicked the cat so that it rocked back and forth.
"It's a pussy," she said. "And you are my pussy girl. If you want to get your little belt
off, all you have to do is keep doing what you are doing. I want you to toss me off ten
times. For each time, I will give you a new pussy for your bracelet. Once you have ten
little pussies, I will unlock you."
"Only ten times," I said. "Do the ones today count?"
"Just the one tonight. It has to be a good one. Not like that shit from today or
yesterday."
"Please," I gasped, running my hands down my body and pushing against the chastity
belt. "Just for tonight. I need it. It's been too long." I was telling her more than I meant
to.
"And I *want* you needing it. With great motivation comes great results, and I want you
supremely motivated," she said laughingly, as she took off my earrings and put on the
large hoops.
"But-but," I sputtered.
She stood up, holding the end of my makeshift leash slung above her shoulder, and
walked to the kitchen. I did my best to shuffle along behind her without bumping into
her. I felt so naked, so vulnerable, even more so by the fact that she was still dressed in
her business clothes.
Thandi opened the take-out trays and inhaled deeply. "Mmmmm," she said, doling
herself a plate of food. When she was done, she placed the rest into two containers.
"There should be enough left for you and your husband," she said. To my disbelief, she
snorted and then spat into one of the containers and stirred it in. "This one is for your
husband, okay?"
She couldn't expect me to serve him that, could she?
"Okay," she said, jerking on the belt and causing it to tighten around my neck.
"Yes, ma'am," I answered.
"Good," she said, removing the belt from my neck and giving one of the large earrings
small thump. "Get dressed and go home. Be sure to wear my gifts tomorrow."
********
Afterwards, I drove home. I was an emotional wreck. I had been whipped, humiliated,
and treated like a slave. Making matters worse, I was turned no beyond belief. I wanted
more, I wanted lots more, but most of all, I wanted to cum.
*********************
When I got home, the first words out of my husband's mouth were, "Geez, you're late.
I'm about to starve."
"Don't worry, I brought home Chinese," I said with a grin. This was going to be easier
than I thought. "Oh, and don't bother getting up. I'll fix your plate."
"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, as I went to the kitchen. If he only had an idea of
how much I had endured to provide for us, he wouldn't take me for granted like he did. I
fixed him a plate of food and for spite, I spit in his food as well and stirred it in.
I returned to the living room with our plates, got us each a beer, and sat down to eat. He
was watching football as usual.
"Do you think we could watch something else," I asked.
"Sure," he said. "Just let me watch the rest of this game. There's only ten minutes left."
I felt a little guilty as he ate his spit-laden food, but twenty minutes later and the game
still on, I wished I had tossed in some dirt as well.
Finally, it was over and we watched the news.
"There's something different about you," Bill said, looking at me critically. "But I can't
quite put my finger on it."
My face burned in shame. Maybe he recognized the fact that I was now a 'pussy-girl' for
my boss. I carried so many of her marks on me now, there was no way I could volunteer
anything to him. I sat dreading what he noticed.
"Your earrings," he said. "They're new aren't they? Honey, you know you can't afford
to waste our money like that."
"They're old," I said, and after a sudden inspiration, decided to put him on the defensive.
"I'm wearing them because I can't afford to buy any new ones."
"Well, they look good on you," he said.
The fact that he even noticed them, much less liked them, let me know just how garish
and outlandish they looked on me.
"Thanks," I replied, standing up and picking up our plates in the process. I smiled with
the knowledge of what he had eaten. "At least pick up your shoes and socks while I
clean up."
For the rest of the night, I cleaned the house, took a cold shower to ease the need in my
body, and went to bed.
I was awakened to the sensation of someone caressing my pajama covered bottom. I
responded, pushing my ass back to make myself more available.
The belt! I realized with a start, catching his hand and moving away from my husband.
"Leave me alone," I said. "I was asleep."
I laid there, aroused and unable to go to sleep, but holding still and praying he would.
He didn't. His hand returned to my bottom. I couldn't afford to let him discover the
chastity belt. How could I explain that?
I sighed, ducking under the covers and making my way to his crotch. He was already
partially hard. I tongued the head of his cock, covered my teeth with my lips and sucked
it into my mouth. I moved up and down on the head, until he was fully erect. With one
hand moving up and down his cock with a twisting motion, while fondling his balls with
the other, I bobbed my head up and down on his hard cock.
I could hear him mutter something to the effect of, "Oh shit. Oh Jesus," while he pushed
up and down on my head, however, I was too busy taking a personal inventory to pay it
much mind. Yes, judging by my painfully hard nipples and my aching pussy, I was
pleased to note that I was aroused and still thankfully straight.
There was only one small problem: I wasn't as aroused as I had been with Thandi.
I suppose it could have been that she held the key to unlock the chastity belt and no
matter what Bill did tonight, there was no way he could bring me off.
Speaking of bringing off, Bill grabbed my head and tried to shove his prick down my
throat. Luckily, my hand was wrapped around the base. It stopped the progress of his
prick, but did nothing to stop his bitter cum from spurting in my mouth.
I guess that makes me a pussy girl and a dick girl; my existence solely to please other
people, without any regard to my own pleasure.
I milked him until he was spent, then got up, went to the bathroom, spit his sperm into a
tissue and flushed it down the toilet. I washed my mouth out with mouthwash, spit it out,
and looked in the mirror. My eyes were haunted and hungry with need.
I locked the bathroom door and took off my clothes. My nipples were painfully tight,
my chest flushed, and my pussy . . . I bet my pussy look just as aroused and open as the
one molded into the surface of the metal belt covering it. Red streaks covered the inside
of my thighs and only one thought screamed in my mind.
I MUST CUM!
I covered my abdomen with baby oil as lubrication and tried to sneak a finger in.
Nothing. I tried pushing a cue-tip through the pee-hole. Nada. I tried pushing the cue-
tip through the top. Nothing worked. Even when I could circumvent the belt, I couldn't
get enough movement in order to get off.
Using my baby-oil coated fingers, I even tried finger-fucking my ass, but the goddamn
manicure prevented me from doing so. In the end, I played with my nipples and listened
to the lock on the bracelet clack against my metal prison, as I fucked myself in the ass
with a lipstick tube. The only thing I succeeded in was making myself even more horny
and frustrated than before.
I cried briefly. Took another cold shower and went back to bed, trying uselessly to sleep.
Goddamn her. Goddamn that coloured bitch.
***********
