Changes Ch. 03

"What?"

"It's a cheap rent, Mistress."

"Well, so is a hole beneath the roots of a large tree, boy."

In my bedroom, she really had a field day with my clothes.

"Um, Mistress, I know some of this stuff looks old, but they're just work clothes."

"Oh, puh-lease! I've seen you wear most of this stuff to work. Even this rag." she noted, holding a tattered old green shirt that I'd slopped some battery acid on quite a while back, in a different city and life. "Bag it. Ughh! These slacks always made you look like a retard."

"I don't look good in dress clothes, I can't help it."

"You just don't know how to dress yourself, is all. Plus, you've been associating with so-called people such as that disgusting little bedbug that so rudely interrupted me in the garage for far too long, probably since forever."

She tossed them over and I put them in the bag while she went on rifling through my rapidly shrinking wardrobe, grabbing a pair of cheap casual pants.

"How I always detested these on you. Anyway, even if you do only wear half this garbage in the garage, it's still no excuse for you to dress like the village idiot, is it? Oh God, your underwear is,... Just throw it all away, she said, removing the drawer and dumping it on the bed. "Apart from thermal layers in the winter, I don't want you wearing underwear anymore, not unless I say. My god, look at all this zero class stuff, you're just lucky I caught you in time, before you ended up with a mullet."

A little later, I was tying up the now full bag by the back door, wondering why she couldn't have at least been nice enough to comment on how neat I kept the place, when she came across with yet something else.

"I want you to go to the bank and close out your accounts tomorrow. Bring all the cash here."

Okay, I had to say something at this point.

"Mistress, y'know,... I got a rent payment coming up soon, and I sorta need-"

"No you don't."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't pay rent anymore."

"You're,... paying my rent, Mistress?"

"Don't be stupid, do I look like someone who rents anything? People pay me rent." she scoffed. "I bought the property."

(!!!)

"Oh, don't fret, boy. I told you, I own you and that makes me responsible for you. I can't have you paying rent to some stranger, can I? Besides, I don't want you wasting time worrying your little head about such things. Your only concern now is me and my bidding. No distractions. Now, come here and rub the back of my neck." she said, sitting in my computer chair and turning her back on me again.

I couldn't believe it. I wanted to fall on my knees and cry, "Enough already!" I mean, the woman personally and financially sodomizes me, and now she wants me to rub her neck? Under different circumstances, I'd have wrung her neck! But I walked over and, after some brief hesitation, got down to the job at hand, making her jump.

"Hey, not so rough!"

"Sorry, Mistress."

"Shut up and make it feel good, boy."

Having had some personal experience with aches and pains, I knew right where to go and what to do when I got there. I used my thumbs to isolate and knead specific and known stress areas as Dagmar browsed a file containing my Age Of Empires high scores.

"Yes, right there. Mmmmmmm! Oh, boy. I think we finally found something you're good at."

So, there it was. My fluffed eggs and tidiness didn't cut it with her at all. At least the neck massage made her feel good.

That's when I started to get hard again. I shook my head slowly with a disgustedly whiny expression which I was glad she couldn't see. What the hell was it with that, anyway!? As much as I hated her, I had to admit I liked this. In a sense, it wasn't like I could do anything and touching Dagmar's body wasn't unpleasant. I just hated giving in to that aspect of my attitude towards her, was all. It only made me feel all the more powerless. Emasculated, even.

"Do my shoulders now. ... Mmmm. Oh, that feels so nice. ... I understand that you hate me, you know. I would expect it and I can hardly blame you, but what you don't understand is that I'm improving you. Everything I've done will raise you as a man, will teach you class and style that you've never known. I'm bettering you and I know that, in time, you'll see that and thank me for it. And boy,... what was so good about your old life, anyway? You had no friends, no connections, no nothing."

"I had my freedom and the freedom to make my own decisions."

"Yes, and look where that got you. I'll bet your cock is nice and hard right now, isn't it?"

Coming out of nowhere as that did, I was taken aback, pausing a moment in the act of rubbing her upper arms. Of course it was, and how embarrassing to have to admit to it.

"That's the other reason I hate you." I monotoned.

"Heh. But your cock loves me. It does. And do you know why? It's because deep down inside, all your life you wanted a good, strong woman to tell you what to do, to take control. I am that woman. You want me because it's who you are. Tell me how much your cock loves me, boy."

(Oh my God, why did she have to do these things? Couldn't she just be happy with the stinkin' massage?)

"My cock loves you a whole bunch, Mistress."

"Embellish.", she teased. "Tell me details, and do my back now.", she added, leaning forward with her forearms folded on the edge of the desk in front of her as I wondered if she wanted poetry, or what?

I stammered, "My cock loves you so much, it gets hard whenever you're around and whenever I think of you."

"Of course it does, but how sweet of you to say it.", she exclaimed, turning her head to show her pleased smile. "Tell me how beautiful I am."

"You're so beautiful, I can't take my eyes off you."

Didn't she know how beautiful she was? Her insecurities, as I'd come to identify some of her odd behavioral patterns, were baffling.

"I noticed that about you right away. I remember walking in to meet your class that evening, to see if any of you looked like you could at least sell your bodies to a homeless man for a nickel, and there you were, all googly eyed and sooo,... It was a perfect first impression, especially how you looked down when our eyes met. I wanted you on the spot. Then it happened several more times as the weeks went by and I could clearly see that I excited you, but I knew you respected me too much to ever do something stupid like ask me out for coffee, or let me catch you checking me out. I liked that, too. Oh yes, very much did I like that." she snickered.

I wondered where she was going with all this, but wasn't she right about how it was with she and I in those days?

"I was intrigued by your behavior, given the type of boy you are, a wilder no less, and all the more exciting for it, I can assure you. But then, a few months later, you suddenly came up with 'the touch' on the phone. At first I was proud, but the better you became, the cockier you got until your respect for me began to diminish. You felt secure from me in your achievements and you knew you no longer had to fear my authority over you so much. You shoved your respect for me aside along with any fears you had of being fired for not performing, and I have to say that I felt quite betrayed about that."

"It's not exactly a great idea to ask a fellow employee, especially one in management, out for a coffee." I commented. "It seemed safest to just,..."

"Ignore me.", she finished. "You knew I noticed you. I might have invited you for that coffee, as would have been proper. But no, you just turned me off and, as much as I loved your first attitude towards me, I hated the new one."

She swiveled around in the chair to face me, grinning at the situation in my pants. She unzipped my jeans and stuck her hand in, producing a surprised gasp from me. Cursing my underwear, she brought it out through the fly, every hard inch of it, along with my balls, and let them hang there while my face turned red.

"That better?"

"Yes, Mistress." I had to mumble at the floor.

"Ohhhhh, see? I have you back the way you were. A nice, shy, respectful boy, standing there with his cock out should I want to use it,... Look at me, pet."

I did and she looked back, the amused smile her face had been wearing up to this point seeming to falter a little. By the time she stood, the smile was gone, replaced with something else. It actually made me move backwards a half step, prompting her to quickly grab the back of my head as she yanked up on the short dress. She sat back down, dragging me with her, using both her hands to forcefully guide my head between her thighs. She wasn't wearing panties and she pulled me closer, slouching in the chair and squirming her crotch closer still.

"I think it's high time you introduced your face to my pussy." she husked. "I'm told you're very good at this, pet, but start with some nice kisses to show her how much you love and respect her."

Out of reflexive instinct, I was gripping the edge of the chair, trying to back off from where I was being forced until I saw those full, dark, pouting lips, her black pubic hair just beneath her white dress. I brushed my lips across that hair, making her jump in her seat a little while I relaxed my grip on the edge of the chair. Hey, it was Dagmar, not the pigs.

I kissed her in the same place, a light one like she wanted, then a couple more before moving down and kissing the crook of her leg as her hands relaxed as well, sensing I was going to do as she pleased without being forced. She spread her legs further and I actually moaned as I kissed her moistening lips up and down, working my way to her clitoris.

Now she was the one emitting small gasps as I pressed my mouth a little harder, kissing her opening long, sucking just a little as if I were kissing her mouth.

"Mmm! Ohhh! Ohh, yes, pet! Like that! Oh god, yes!"

I let go of the seat cushion all together, slipping my hands around her ass and pulling her closer, now feeling around a little between her lips with my tongue.

"Ohh! Ohh! Yes! Fuck!"

I loved it.

My tongue began pressing a little harder, just enough to fully explore her and every detail she offered, dragging my kissing lips wherever it roamed. She practically went nuclear when I explored under her hood, around her clit and every square millimeter of that as well.

I enjoyed her as I pleased, and my pleasure was great as I cleaned her. It wasn't long before she groaned her orgasm to my tongue driving into her canal, my fingers working her clit from over the top of her thigh. Yep, she got the royal treatment.

Then she was up and out of the chair, quicker than greased lightning and pushing me down on the floor and flat on my back. I was shocked at her speed and apparent strength as she tore my pants down and off, throwing a leg over me, straddling me and holding my wrists to the floor beside my ears. She kissed me full on the lips, hard and rough, like it was meant as an insult, or a threat.

"Now, don't you cum, fucktoy. You hear?" she purred. "Don't you dare let yourself cum."

She giggled at my shocked expression, sliding down until my dick was grinding against her crotch. She closed her eyes and ground herself up and down until she trapped me in her lips. Inhaling sharply, her eyelids fluttered and her parted lips twitched as she slowly rolled her hips, working herself down and around me and enjoying every second of it, as I was.

How did she expect me to not-?

"Ohhhhh, god, yeeess! Mmmmm!", she almost growled as she sat upright to start pumping herself up and down on me.

(dead kittens, dead kittens!)

Before long, she was fucking hard and grunting each time she collapsed on me, the carpeted floor underneath me offering no forgiveness to the hard, raunchy penetration that was putting both of us off our pins. And she was tight, completely unlike what one would expect from her size and attitude towards sex, and dead kittens weren't doing it, neither were thoughts of optimal exhaust diameters, or favorable wheel and tire sizes. And why did it always have to be this way with her? Why always the teasing and mental torture?

Her pace gradually quickened along with her volume until she was banging me for all she was worth. And once again, there was no question of who was banging the hell out of who. I really was just a fucktoy to her, the rest of the dildo, maybe, and the increasing pain in my tailbone proved it, bringing me away from orgasm more effectively than even the thought of having sex with Celine Dion. It was worse than trying to do sit-ups on a cement floor wearing nothing but gym pants.

After suddenly wailing, long and loud at the ceiling, she tensed and stopped for a moment, spasmodically squeezing my thighs with her knees during an intense, silent orgasm. At the end, she let out a loud, whimpering cry with a lung full of air and relaxed, breathing hard as I thanked all that was sacred that the punishment against my tailbone had stopped while it was still possible to physically get up and walk away from this encounter.

I, however, was still hard and still inside of her, moaning in pain and pleasure at the same time, and when she started to slide herself up and down my cock again, I couldn't believe it. This time she reached down and played with her clit, slowly but firmly pumping me, coming down a little harder each time until my tailbone was screaming louder than my battered groans as she dropped herself about once per second.

"OHH! OHH! AHH!" she forced, enjoying what was obviously a painful experience for her as well.

Soon she picked up the pace again and I was getting pretty concerned. I just let myself yell like she was because there was nothing for it as the pain took over the pleasure of how she squeezed my cock,... everywhere. If she didn't stop soon, she'd wreck me for life.

I could tell she was approaching another orgasm as her voice took on a sandpapery quality. She threw her head back and yelled unabashedly, hair flying, bucking up and down as though I had a lifetime warranty.

By the time she was done, she was doing what I can only describe as, 'power sobbing', and the expression on her face was beyond my ability to describe. She fucked like she was demented, maniacal and she was absolutely magnificent. I'd never had sex even remotely like that before and just the sight of this well built woman sitting on top of me there like that would have been enough to make me cum, if not for the excruciating pain. For the first time, I noticed my whole pelvis was sore. I worried that she may have done damage, possibly a dislocated or broken hip as I lay inert beneath her, the both of us moaning.

She flopped down , her face inches from mine, forearms on the floor beside my shoulders and stared at me, seemingly in a daze for some moments while she regained herself. Moving forward, she allowed me to fall out, a move that made both of us twitch, me painfully grinding my own tailbone this time in the process. Then that predatorial smile she used that day in her office crept to her face, diluted as it was with her orgasmic satisfaction. She issued a small laugh and kissed me, a little less rough this time, me returning it and somehow managing a pained smile after.

Still panting a little, she said, "You did very well, pet. My fucktoy impressed and pleased me very much. So far, you're turning out much better than I dared to hope for."

I was proud and gratified she felt this way and managed a smile that was a little bigger, replying, "I'm glad I made you happy. And,..."

"What?"

"You're just,... incredible, Mistress, but,..."

"Yes, pet?"

"Well, if it's umm, convenient, I wonder if you could please let me up, because my tailbone is in the crawlspace underneath the trailer,..."

The alluringly beautiful Ms. Alejandro became a little serious, asking, "Was I too much for you, boy?"

"Almost. As long as you don't mind loading and unloading a wheelchair from now on."

Her smile came slowly back and she even started laughing a little. She got up and straightened her dress a little so I could carefully roll to my side, moaning again at the painful relief. I expected that my vacuum cleaner would disappear inside the dent that had to be in the floor, created by my tailbone.

Walking a bit crookedly to my desk, she said a little haltingly, but in a satisfied tone, "I don't know about this place, I don't like fucking on this floor, especially thinking it might give way."

I didn't care about that at the moment, only watched her as she picked up her purse from beside my computer, threw my cards inside and dug around before producing another and tossing it on the desk.

"It's a bank account with the PIN taped to the back. Memorize the PIN and sign the card. Two thousand dollars will drop into that account on the first of every month, make it last. If you need more for something, come see me and I might let you have it. A courier will show up for your cash tomorrow at two o'clock, so be back from the bank in time and make sure they give you a proper envelope for the money when you're there."

I found this mind boggling. Why in the deepest, most frustratingly senseless pits of hell would she take my money and give me hers?

I nodded as she looked at me, my erection still as strong as ever.

"Well, I'm done with you and your body for today, boy." Dagmar said as she walked to the door, still a trifle unsteady on her heels and pulling her dress down further. "I'll be in touch."

I swear I heard her giggle deliriously on the back porch.

After spending some time on my other side, during which my hardon finally went away, I carefully made my way to the couch, ignoring my pants and underwear on the floor. By the time I'd gotten settled into the soft cushions, I'd decided that my pelvis and lower spine probably weren't crushed or structurally compromised and, after about a half hour lying there, I was able to get up and pull my jeans back on.

I stood there in the middle of the floor, wondering what to do with myself after all that. I'd just decided to pack it all in and go to bed when-

"Poink!"

It was my computer. Somebody'd sent me an email, probably Gordo from Maryland, trying to tempt me with that fiberglass front clip again. I sat down carefully against my desire to collapse in the office chair in front of my monitor and opened the email.

David,

Hi, bro! It's your big sister Bridgette! It's been ages! Did you not have a computer for a while? We were worried about what happened to you. Why didn't you write? Anyway, I was so happy to hear from Dagmar! Congrats! Her email was so nice, you're such a lucky guy! Only wish I could have been there for the wedding. (grrr) Tell her I said thanks for her email address and that I'll respond in person soon and that I just can't wait for this Christmas! I'm going to email Lorraine, Mom and Dad as soon as I send this. They'll be so happy, all of us together for the holidays like before, and we get to meet your new wife! EEEEEEEEEK! <

Well, it was a good thing I was seated at the time.

"Oh my fuck." I said aloud in a daze. "Oh,... my,... fuck."

I'd kept my older sister's email in the program address book in case of emergency and Dagmar found it. I closed my eyes, hoping it was all some kind of mistake on my sanity's part but, when I opened them again, the email was still there. I sat there in shock at the thought of reconnecting with my family, of having to listen to Lorraine, the brainless ex cheerleader and the sound of my Fathers voice,...

After a minute, I gathered the nerve to look at the 'Sent Items' file.

Bridgette,

Hello, my name is Dagmar Alejandro. You don't know me, but I'm hoping that will change soon. I must admit that this email is a little awkward for me, owing to the fact that you and your brother, David, haven't been in contact with one another for a while. I want to assure you that everything is alright with him and that, in fact, he and I were married on June 23 of this year. David never did speak much of family and friends and I've only recently gotten him to open up a little about some things. If you know him as well as I've come to, you'll probably understand when I say that he does seem to display some xenophobic tendencies at times, and I'm sure it's nothing personal on his part. Anyway, I insisted on contacting you, as I would dearly love to get to know you and the rest of David's family. If it isn't too soon, and if it isn't an imposition in any way, I'd hoped that he and I could visit this Christmas. As you see, I've attached my email address, so please feel free to contact me in personal reply if you wish. Again, Bridgette, I offer my sincere apologies if this communication upsets you in any way and please know that, if I'd had my way at the time, things would have gone differently where our wedding was concerned. Hoping you're enjoying a great day.