tagNonConsent/ReluctanceBad Neighbor Ch. 02

Bad Neighbor Ch. 02

byHandsInTheDark©

I couldn't believe how childish I was being. Eavesdropping on sex? What was I, fifteen?

But the fact was, I was going to listen in this evening. I couldn't even pretend I wasn't. I had butterflies in my stomach over the thought. How pathetic is that?

I went for a run, just a couple miles to clear my head. It turned into five miles, a good long run for me. I got back to the apartment at around 2, puttered around, cleaning up, vacuuming... then went for a shower.

The butterflies were gone but I couldn't stop the images in my head. I was obsessing.

And then I had a wicked idea.

I was going to listen in, and it was going to make me hot. I was going to come. Why not dress for the occasion? Take a nice long shower, lotion up the skin, wear something... fun. Something Tony would appreciate if he saw it, which he wasn't going to. Maybe read some erotica in advance. Get myself boiling hot, even before the show started. And then, when Tony let his love slave have her orgasm -- assuming he even let her... just let myself go wild. I had that one, huge, ruthless toy, given to me as a gag a few years back. Usually it was way too much to deal with, but tonight... this might just be the night for it.

Yeah... tonight I was just going to be bad. And why not? There was no one telling me when to have orgasms. And no one would ever know.

I tend to introspect a lot, so I stopped and thought about why this seemed like such a fun idea. I mean, of course, anything that involved dressing hot was fun, but it wasn't like anyone was going to get to appreciate it. And it wasn't like I was dressing for Tony. Absolutely not. I didn't even want to imagine myself in his girlfriend's place. What they did was hot because of what happened to her, not because I imagined it happening to me. My fantasies about Tony were mostly all about him taking me to dinner. Mmm... and me wearing that black dress with the plunging neckline, and watching his eyes move over me, wanting what he wouldn't get, not that night. But making him daydream about it. Giving him a very, very inviting kiss, and then going our separate ways... knowing he'd jerk off later than night, thinking off the kiss. And oh, my, I'd seen that lump in his pants. Tony jerking off... ok, yeah, guys jerking off has always been a hot, hot turn on for me. Sneaking up on a guy who was working it. Sometimes, in that fantasy, I just watched, touching myself. Sometimes I walked over and took over for him, using my hands to work all that hard thickness, feeling it stiffen, listening to his breathing... and sometimes... sometimes he caught me watching, and then he made me... mmmm, yes. Punished for watching, and the punishment was always the same. The dress torn, my limbs tangled up in them, the panties shredding off my helpless body...

No, damnit... masturbation was going to wait. Once I started that there'd be no stopping it.

So even if it made no sense... I wanted to dress bad for my private viewing, well, listening. But I couldn't decide. Elegant or slutty? The black dress with the of-course-I'm-not-having-sex-this-evening-but-it's-fun-to-think-about panties, or that totally slutty clubwear that was basically lingerie, which I'd never had the courage to wear? Was I hot and unobtainable, or begging for it?

I couldn't decide. I showered, running my hands over my skin more slowly than cleaning required, making sure I was perfectly clean, like I was going on a date. I giggled. A date with Mr. Big, the nickname the vibrator had gotten when Kim got it for me. Kim would have understood my plans for the evening. Not that I did, exactly.

I wondered if Tony was the grabby type. Here I was, naked and soapy, with a glass door showcasing my body to anyone who walked in. Some guys would appreciate the view for the erotic thing it was, and allow me to... model myself. They'd turn it into a slow, sensual experience, with both of us anticipating the moment it stopped being looking and started being touching. Mmm... anticipating. Not many guys seemed to get that. Most would walk over, yank the door open and plant a hand on my ass. Ten out of ten for clarity of intent, but minus several billion for style. Moment ruined, no anticipating, just grab the meat. There was so much missed when it was played that way.

There was a word... irruptive. Men were irruptive. You could plan something for days, set a mood, linger on the anticipation... and they'd suddenly walk in and screw it all the hell up.

Tony struck me as more controlled. Listening to him with his girlfriend... yeah. Very much the cool, calm and in control type. He'd know when to touch and when to wait. I shivered in the warm water, remembering his slow, casual toying with his girl. What was it even like, to be her? The mind slowly shutting down, the cruel but sensual torment overwhelming every thought, the body slowly opening, yielding, the complicated feelings melting down to one pure emotion -- desire. Take me. Take me mercilessly. Right, wrong, I don't know anymore and it doesn't matter. I'm wet and I want and need to be everything you want and need. Take me. Take me now. Take me ruthlessly...

I moaned, and yanked my hand away from what it had been doing. Damn, I was in a mood this evening. Focus, Kate, focus!

I rinsed off, and toweled down, tangling my body in the thickness of the cloth - wait, had I remembered to lock the front door? Not a mistake you want to make with men like Tony in the halls! I- oh! Perfume. Should I? The Caesar's Woman? No... too intense. Not at all subtle. The Chanel? Hm, I should wear perfume more often... yes. I think just a little of the Chanel. Just a drop between the breasts. Oh, that one time I put a drop of perfume on William's doorknob, and then wore it for the next three days. I was never sure he'd really figured it out... but that weekend he did ask me out, so...

I fussed over the clothing choice. I was dressing for myself and I was a demanding bitch, after all. Unobtainable or eager... My hand stroked the little black dress, so formal but not at all demure...

I shivered. The dress was the wrong choice. He wouldn't like it. A little black dress is what you wear when you want to command attention. Look at me -- not a request, a demand. And that -- my shivers increased -- was not what tonight's fantasies were about. I would be demanding nothing. My hand closed on the lingerie formerly advertised as clubwear, and now I was shuddering. Putting this one was the same as begging to be used. Take me. Please take me. Please. Please touch me. Please let me be the place you play, the space you possess, the body you own. Enslave me, whatever it takes. I want that. In the black dress I'd stand and say "admire me." In this, I'd kneel and say "please... oh please... use me."

By the time I had it on, I was soaking though the panties. It didn't matter that no one was going to see it; just putting it on revealed something about me that I hadn't known. Putting it on was like being Tony's girlfriend, dressing according to the wishes of another. I looked in the mirror and gasped, softly. Tony had done this to me without even trying. No wonder his girl came to his room when, and how, he asked for her. I left the mirror a little stunned. No one was ever, ever, ever going to know about this. Fuck, what if he could read minds? No, stop it! You're shaken up enough.

I didn't know what time his girl would be over, but I figured I had at least an hour, and I had Jane In Chains waiting. Not that I needed the extra stimulation. But I was going to follow the plan and have an orgasm to end orgasms this evening. And then I'd be sane again.

I set up the stool, over by the wall. The overstuffed chair would be more comfortable, but on a stool... on a stool you have to pay attention to balance, even as you're coming. You have to keep your body tensed. And you feel very much on display and exposed, on a stool. I knew, from my rare moods like this, that it all made the orgasm more intense.

I flipped open the eReader.

"You wouldn't dare do this if you knew who my father was," I spat.

"Your father is no one, here, little girl. What matters here is what a man does, not who he is. Now hold your wrists out in front of you."

"Make me," I snarled.

The slap drove me up against the wall, and then down to my knees. The next thing I knew, my wrists were bound. Not by the leather he'd used last time. This was the coarse iron chain, the stuff it was said he used on his lowest slaves. I snarled, in furious rage. He slapped me again, and laughed.

"You make it a little too obvious that you like rough play, Jane."

"When my father is done with you, they will have trouble telling your spleen from your kidneys. The noble houses-"

"This is Thailand, not England, my newest little fuck slave. Let me show you the difference. In England I'd be offering you tea. Here-"

He hauled on the chain brutally, and I was suddenly on my belly, my head at his feet. He moved swiftly, his knee dropping onto the small of my bared back, pinning me down. There was a stinging sensation as the rest of my clothing was shredded off my body. And then the brutal slap of his hand on my ass. I bit my lip, to hold back the shaken cry.

"Why Jane. I can't help noticing... you're wet. I bet you were last time, too. Such a pity we were interrupted, you seemed to enjoy what I was doing to your breasts... And since you're so wet... Oh! Jane! It appears you're a virgin!"

"You wouldn't know, I doubt you've ever had one!"

His finger moved, slowly. I thrashed but there was no escape from the weight of his leg, or the grip of his massive hand.

"Unspoiled as you are, you might be worth something on the slave market... you think I wouldn't? You know what sort of life they have... taken by the worst of men, over and over... they break, Jane. They become mindless little orgasm beasts. I'm told you used to spy on them, and masturbate..."

His finger moved, expertly. My nipples were hard, against the cold dungeon stone. I was wet. I had to get away from him. The touch of these horrid chains on my wrists... I could not be a slave. I could not be.

"But no. As much fun as it would be to sell you, broken and well used, back to your father, a young English noblewoman like yourself deserves more refined treatment. You'll only be used by the rich and powerful. And you'll come to be thankful."

His finger worked me ruthlessly... he knew me too well. He knew how I responded to shame and rough treatment. The worse the violation and abuse, the hotter it made me. And now we both knew it worked on me even when I was the victim.

I gasped as he caught my clitoris in a brutal grip. My legs trembled. I knew how it would happen. He'd force me to orgasm, just to shame me, and as I weltered in that shame... that's when his brutal manhood would force into me. He'd make me watch as he pushed in... he'd make me lick his cock clean, and then go back to plundering me...

"Since this is your first time, Jane.... I'm going to make it a special occasion. I will bring in an unspoiled slave girl, a very pretty one... and let her be taken by one of my men. I will make you masturbate to the sight of it, and when you come... then, and only then, Jane, I will teach you what being a woman means..."

I closed the eReader, shaking. Okay, that was a little too intense. Tony wasn't that bad. If he was I'd have moved out of here. Sure, every woman knows the appeal of a ruthless, merciless, demanding, arrogant man, a man who decides what he wants and takes it with no regard for any woman's wishes. Virile and polite... we pretend, sometimes, that they can co-exist, but deep down we know that they don't, and deeper down, we know which one we really prefer. We want that special ruthlessness that drives us, sobbing, to our knees. We may tell ourselves we don't, and even believe it, but it's the worst of men that make us... ache.

But still... there's a limit. We still need at least the veneer of civility. No woman wants to be forced to acknowledge that she's openly attracted to the worst man in the world. We need our bad men to be sugar-coated, so we can take a little taste and believe, hypocritically believe, he's not so bad. But deep down, we know. We know the sugar-coating is a lie. We know we want what lies underneath, and we shiver, anticipating, the moment it emerges and claims us.

I opened the eReader and switched to the somewhat tamer Becoming Marie. The scene were Marie goes to Sito... I was aching when I finished it. A man who knows what he wants, and is utterly unapologetic about taking it, but still has room for a gentle kiss. Even if you're never completely sure if the kiss is genuine affection, or just another trick to pull you in deeper.

I looked down over my body. The clit was a visible swelling in the wet, translucent panties. Touch Me Here. I was panting. My nipples were two cones, inviting fingers and teeth. My legs twined around the stool, taut and suggestive of bondage and entrapment. As a teen I'd practiced poses like this in a mirror, but the reality is, they come out whether you practice them or not, when you're hot enough. My body already knew how to beg.

I hooked up the microphones and stuck them to the wall. I decided I had to be done reading for now. Any more, and I'd simply masturbate and come.

I remembered Tony's girlfriend sobbing in need. I realized I had no idea what it was like to need to come and be told no. All my guys had wanted me to have orgasms, and the faster the better. What was it like, to need to so badly, and not?

Tentatively, and knowing I was being silly, I touched my clit, lightly, through the warm, wet cloth. Yes! My body screamed, and the buildup started immediately. This was where I'd always either stopped, or just pushed straight through to the orgasm, just a few seconds away. I rocked it back and forth, lightly... fireworks. Oh fuck! FUCK this was good. Fuck, I'm already right there! Yes! I have to!

I pulled my hand away, and oh gods. It hurt. Every inch of me screamed, and it was impossible to think. I clenched my fists to stop myself, and my belly was so tight it ached. I could feel my racing pulse in my clit and nipples, even in my lips. Gods, he'd left her in this state for minutes. Bound. With his hard cock where she could see it, maybe pressing it against her lips when she was silently howling for it to be the only place that mattered...

I could never be her, I knew. I'd end up trembling and sobbing and shamefully begging, and I could not do that. And then that scene on Jane in Chains occurred to me, Jane on her belly with the chain on her wrist, telling herself she could not be slave, and knowing that she already was...

Overload. Rational thought went away for a bit. I was unable to put my emotions together, to integrate everything. I was torn by the most horrible ache to be Jane, freedom stripped away, replaced by the most shameful, abandoned sexual intensity imaginable; and my need to be Kate, a reserved woman who valued her desire to be in control and able to come whenever she liked, like right now if I wanted to, and I wanted to, so badly I was shaking and sweating, but Tony wouldn't like it, and no one must ever know just how hot I found that thought, Tony angry with me and ready to punish...

What snapped me out of it was a sound in the earphones. A door. Tony's guest had arrived.

The butterflies were back.

I heard him speak, clearly. "Welcome, Crissy."

My heart stopped. His girl's name was Julie. Not Crissy. Crissy was my neighbor across the hall.

I had to get her out of there! Did she have any idea what he was like? We'd talked about Tony! She-

"Am I... am I on time?"

"Of course."

I sat back down. First of all, there was no way I was going over there dressed like this. Second, this was obviously arranged. Shit, this was so wrong. Crissy was a nice girl.

"I'm... frightened."

"No. You're nervous. If you were truly frightened, you'd leave."

"So you know my emotions better than I do?"

"You'll be surprised at how often that turns out to be true, as we... advance. But let's start very simply, since this is your first, brief visit. Remove the blouse."

Crissy, get out of there. Get out. You haven't heard what he puts Julie through. We've talked about it but you haven't heard it. If you'd heard it you really would be frightened.

I had to intervene. I grabbed the cell phone, turned it on... damnit why are these things so slow to wake up?

"I... that's a lot to ask."

"Do it or leave. This was your idea, Crissy. And you knew what it entailed. Take it off, or we're done."

Damn it damn it damn it- Signal! Dial! Ringing! Pick up damn it!

"*giggle* I'm not available to take your call. At the beep-"

I slammed it shut. Calling her would have meant explaining how I knew she was there anyway. Gods, she'd walked in there without her phone. He'd probably demanded that.

"Now the bra."

She was panting, softly. It was too shocking to be hot, but my body reacted to the sound of her breathing, even though my mind was way too busy to care.

"I- shit, this is intense..."

"Yes. You look good, Crissy. Now walk up to me, and turn around."

"You're going to t-touch me..."

"Yes."

How long had they been talking? Shit, was this my fault? I'd told her he was bad, maybe I'd made it sound appealing.

"As I touch your breasts, focus on what you're doing. You're letting me touch you. Focus on how your body reacts to that."

Slowly, her panting increased. Then a soft moan. Fuck, my nipples were throbbing in sympathy.

"I'm going to squeeze down... you won't make any noise when I do. Not even a gasp. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Her breathing suddenly turned ragged. So did mine.

"Good... you're very, very aroused. So we need to set some rules. You may no longer masturbate, unless I say so. I don't care who you date and what you do with them... but when you are alone, you have a no touch rule. I recommend you find someone to go out with this evening, because if you stay at home that No Touch rule will start to drive you insane."

She moaned, softly.

"A fair start. We're done here. You may go."

"That's... it?"

"For now. I have someone stopping by shortly and I guarantee you don't want to stay for it. And you need to take slow steps to get to where you're going. Believe me, this went well. Oh -- leave the bra here, just put the blouse back on. You'll spend the day like that, even if you go out. Do you understand?"

"Um. Yes."

"Good afternoon, then."

She was still panting when, a few seconds later, she left.

Shit shit shit... I'd talk to her. Not tonight. But soon, I had to.

Fuck I was so turned on! I was trembling. He was evil, he could talk women into things, soon it would be Crissy, moaning, bound, begging... she was just twenty. She didn't understand what bad men could do.

Oh fuck, I need to come. So bad. So very, very bad...

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