Days in Rodanthe

In disbelief of what was happening, I followed her humiliating instructions, my throbbing dick pointing downward. She stepped away for a moment, but returned and I felt something plastic run up my thigh and then between my cheeks. Obviously 'no touching' meant skin-to-skin. I realized she had grabbed the ancient red flyswatter that had hung on the wall. Luckily I had scrubbed it down recently. I braced for a whipping on my bare ass.

Moments later the sting of the swatter registered across my cheeks as Za'ana flogged me rapidly at least a dozen times. I could feel the heat on my skin. I began to relax as she stopped but grunted as my hanging balls were knocked harshly around for several seconds. My eyes watered from the pain.

"Okay, now, your butter finger, in your asshole!"

I had agreed to this game thinking all I would have to do is jerk off while she happily stripped down. I was stupid not to realize there would be much more. Now I was going to have to sodomize myself. Almost in tears and regretting what I had signed up for, I followed her order, and slipped my middle finger into my rectum as Za'ana watched, her face very close by from what I could tell. I'll admit I had done that once out of curiosity in the past, so the sensation was not new.

"Move it around! In and out! Good boy Robert!" she said in that strange accent.

Suddenly I could hear her rummaging around in the fridge. She had me grab a carrot from her.

"Stick this inside. You know you want to show me how well you can do it."

No, I didn't, but thought there was no other choice. I had to keep this scary bitch happy until I could get out of here. So I began to stuff it up my ass. It was cold and much bigger than my finger. Luckily she didn't select one of the zucchinis or yellow squash I bought for her omelets.

"Around in a circle! Yes! Stretch your asshole for me, nice guy Rob! Your dick is still hard! You love this! Now in and out! Faster!"

I couldn't believe I was butt fucking myself with a carrot. I began to feel some strange urges from my intestinal tract and was beginning to sweat.

"Okay stand up! Walk around the room!"

The orange intruder shifted around in my rectum as I stepped gingerly around the kitchen like a show pony, my stiff meat dancing in front of me. Za'ana smiled and moaned approval. She had perched herself on the tabletop, sipping tea, her long legs curled up beneath her. I finally stopped and looked into those beautiful eyes, and my regret lessened slightly; I hoped I was giving her whatever sick pleasure she wanted.

I followed another set of orders, which resulted in me face up on the floor, with my body upside down in the air, leaning against the cabinets. From this position it was clear she wanted me to come on my own face. I resumed stroking, my feet in the air, carrot still lodged in my ass, its orange point sticking out. Again my cock betrayed me and the morals I had been raised with, I was going to blow another load at any moment. I couldn't believe what I was doing, much less in front of anyone. I looked up at beautiful Za'ana as she smiled, kissed the air, then spat on my face again.

"Open! Fill your mouth! Don't you fucking love jerking off for me Robert?"

"Yes!" I said to appease her and in another second I moaned and came, less volume but more intensely than the last time. Afterward I was blinded, sperm in my eyes, hair, and mouth.

"Play with it! Swirl it around!" she said, referring to my coated tongue. "Use your fingers again, suck them."

When I was done, I stood up and Za'ana spoke. I could see her out of one eye through a white haze. I was out of breath.

"Very good, Rob. I have to work now. They told you I am not to be disturbed, correct?" She was smiling sweetly as I nodded. "This was the best breakfast I've had in a very long time. See you tomorrow? Remember our deal."

"Okay," I said, inwardly unsure if I shouldn't just wash up and get in my truck and take off. This was sick and perverted and I could pretend it was all just a bad dream and never happened. The Virginia border was about two hours away. I could leave when she went for a run later and evade her millionaire boyfriend, I thought.

But, for whatever reasons, I stayed. I realized I felt like I did when I first started sneaking around jerking off, when it was new, dirty, forbidden and exciting. There was a kind of a freedom in having your fate, as it was, decided for you as well. Throughout the day I made several urgent trips to the toilet, thanks to my overly stimulated colon. In between two of those trips I watched her run up the beach. She paused and spoke to an older man, and petted his leashed retriever. She also stopped a couple times to practice martial arts punches, flips and spinning kicks into the air. Za'ana looked like she was no amateur. Their was no need for a boyfriend to fly down here and kick my ass; she could do it herself. I began to wonder if she was really a journalist or if something else was going on, but knew I would not ask any questions. Later, she emerged from her room only once and politely asked to borrow my truck; I offered to drive her but she refused, insulted that I asked if she could drive a clutch. She returned a couple hours later. Her coworker picked her up for dinner and they apparently didn't return until after I had gone to sleep.

The next morning I awoke, opening my eyes before touching myself anywhere. My ass was a little sore, and made me realize the previous day was real and I had not been a trained monkey in some nightmarish wet dream. I did my usual morning bathroom hygiene routine and headed upstairs to the kitchen, wondering what twisted adventure awaited me today. As I cooked another omelet and time passed, nerves set in and I began to wonder if I should have just left the state last night when I had the chance.

Suddenly I was glad I stayed. Za'ana strutted into the kitchen in a loose orange t-shirt. It was short and had a large open neck and showed part of a white macramé bikini underneath. The suit was a handmade one like I had seen hanging in the local surf shops. It looked more like pieces of a hammock than a bathing suit, the kind most women say they would never wear in public. Apparently my new acquaintance had borrowed the truck to go shopping yesterday, since the t-shirt was local as well. I was flattered she bought it, apparently for me.

"Surprise! I'm a surfer girl!" she said before sitting at the table. Again she invited me to join her, and we had a pretty normal conversation, with my repeated compliments on how nice she looked. As we finished eating, I began to tremble, unsure what or if anything was next. Maybe she was taking the day off, and the bikini itself was the reward.

"More juice please Rob," she said, "but take off your shorts first." Za'ana's smile dropped from her face. "You masturbating pervert!"

And so it began. After she drank the juice delivered by her bottomless ersatz manservant, she had me begin stroking, standing only a couple feet from her face.

She then walked to the counter and grabbed a plastic grocery back and stuffed several small potatoes into it. For a second I thought I was going to get beaten code red style.

"Here, sit down. Tie this around your balls."

I complied, looping the thin handles around the top of my scrotum and pulling the knot tight. My heart was racing again, as this was getting serious. I was not sure this was worth seeing her naked after all. That's what strippers are for. I sat, holding the bag full of potatoes in my lap.

"Drop them," Za'ana commanded.

I gently lowered the bag.

"No! Pick up and drop!" She demonstrated with her hands what I was to do.

I pulled the bag up until it stretched my nuts off the chair, then let go. I grunted loudly as the weight of the bag painfully yanked my nuts away from my body.

"Okay, keep jerking off you fucking pervert! Stand up! Get one leg on the chair and swing that bag around!"

As I stroked and swung my hips, the laws of momentum made the swinging weight even more painful on my nuts. My eyes watered as my lower body cramped up. I could feel that my face was bright red. Just when I was ready to quit and take my chances by walking out on her and the B&B, she slipped the t-shirt over hear head, displaying the revealing swimsuit. It was not much more than a series of strings connected by knots. There were panels of material woven into the suit at critical places. They covered, just barely, her pubic area and tits.

"Nice hard cock again, Rob! You love jerking it for me, don't you?" She said as I took in the view. She made kissing motions and teasing, mock adjustments to the strings of her suit.

Her body was thin but not boney; she had good muscle tone, a flat stomach and moderately wide hips. Despite her naturally bronze complexion, she had some tan lines, although they matched the golfer's pattern of a tank top and shorts. Za'ana's breasts were small, low on her ribcage but protruded nicely. She had a few scars on her limbs, but no tattoos or piercings that I could currently see, except her ears. I kept stroking and gawking at her, and a dinner plate for my jizz was placed in front of me on the chair. Since she was close, she spat in my eye.

Soon she was flogging my ass again with the swatter and an intense burst of sperm splattered onto the plate. After I had tilted up the plate over my head to coat my face, she slapped my jaw with the swatter, and jizz went flying everywhere as she laughed. Finally, after I licked the plate clean, I was told to free my aching balls from the bag of potatoes. I was catching my breath, happy that at least I didn't have to stick anything up my ass this time.

"Okay, out here, I've got another surprise," she commanded, pointing to the front porch. The front deck was covered and enclosed with screens, but could be seen from certain angles beyond the dunes and swaying sea oats. I reached for my shorts.

"No fucking shorts! There's no one around! Get your bare ass out here or I call my fiance!"

The view I had of Za'ana was from the side as she held the front door open. There was bare skin from her neck to her foot, crisscrossed only by a two strings. I walked out onto the porch, in a t-shirt only, fully illuminated by the morning sun. My embarrasment over potentially being seen bare-assed was forgotten when I saw my next challenge.

Besides putting on the bikini, Za'ana had been a busy girl earlier this morning. She had gotten into my truck's toolbox. One of the wooden benches was placed in the middle of the porch. Screwed into the top was a small shelf board. To that board, attached from the bottom, was the lower seven inches of a table leg, its rounded end sticking strait up. It looked like it was coated with Vaseline. My drill, hand saw, and the sacrificed end table were placed in the corner.

"Another surprise! Shove that wood up your fucking ass and show the neighbors and the fishermen how good you can jerk your cock!"

If someone on the decks of either one of the neighboring houses in the distance or someone on the beach at the shoreline was really looking, they might be able to see. I walked over to the bench and realized this homemade dildo was over an inch and a half wide. This was going to hurt like hell. Za'ana sat on another bench and leaned in behind me to watch close up. I spread my ass cheeks with both hands at her direction and slowly lowered myself onto the wooden leg. Despite the lube, it started to spread the ring of muscle around my hole painfully, and I pulled up.

"It's too big. I can't do this!" I said, breathing hard, staring out at the crashing waves.

"What?" Za'ana stood and walked around to face me, her hair blowing in the breeze. "You don't like my presents? I wear this whore outfit and make a nice wood pole for you and you don't like? I'm going to get my phone!" Her small tits jiggled in the flimsy bikini as she gestured angrily.

"Okay! Okay! Don't call! I love your presents!" I said. "And I'll keep trying..."

"You sit on that fucking wood stick all the way in your asshole Rob!" She moved in closer and spat in my eye, which was stinging from sweat already.

As she watched behind me, I descended again, trying to relax my spinchter. On the fourth, grunting try, I was able to align everything and get it inside. My breath was quick and shallow as I slowly slid the rest of the way down. My anus throbbed against the solid wood. Relieved, I began to yank on my cock, which had betrayed my upbringing once again and grown during the ordeal.

"Now, stand up!" she said.

I stood up, freeing the post, and then had to noisily repeat the tense entry several times at her insistance. A truck would be able to drive into my asshole when she was finished with it, I joked to myself. Just when I had gotten settled in, growing slightly acclimated to what felt like a baseball bat up my ass, she spoke again.

"Up and down! Faster!" Came the command from down low and behind me. Maybe her journalism specialty was proctology, I thought. Such inane thoughts diverted my attention from the throbbing mush that my asshole was becoming.

I began to ride the dildo, my stroking hand moving at twice the pace. My knees and thigh muscles were starting to burn a little. I had chills up and down my spine and was sweating to the point that all traces of earlier sperm load that I had to smear on my face were gone.

Za'ana, who had apparently had her fill of watching the destruction of my rectum, came back around in front of me, spat on my cheek, then backed away. She cheered me on as I kept stroking, making kissing motions with that beautiful mouth. She began to play with the bikini strings, which tied at the outside of each hip. I watched as she tugged teasingly as the suit began to fall away. She spun around quickly, holding the fabric just low enough to reveal most of her beautiful, quivering ass for a minute or so, bending forward, bouncing on her heels and arching her back. She looked back over her shoulder and told me that she knew how much I loved doing these things for her. Her red nails dug into the soft flesh as she grasped a handful of cheek and caressed it, then slapped herself just like a stripper. I took in the awesome view, frantically whacking away at my stiff dick, until I announced I was coming. She quickly pulled the bikini up and turned around, and told me to shoot into my other hand. After I lifted myself off the dildo, I was told to bend over and display my open, ravaged asshole to Za'ana while I wiped my load into my ass crack. She watched and laughed and commented in English and another language as my dripping, distended rectum slowly closed. Soon she and her macramé swimsuit had disappeared into her room as I limped back to mine.

Later, she left for a run, and again I watched out the window. Oddly, she encountered the same man with the same dog again, in practically the same spot, even though it was a different time of day. She crouched down to pet the friendly Golden Retriever, and adjusted the dog's collar. Throughout the day, I could hear her in her room, at times yelling on her cell phone in what sounded like a least two different languages besides French. I also knew she would scale the stairs to the rooftop deck in the wee hours of the morning with one of the aluminum cases. I reasoned she had a satellite uplink and was sending her story to her news service, whoever they were. Or, maybe she was a covert agent and the man with the dog was her contact, and the retriever's collar held a microchip with top secret information; but I had probably been watching too many spy movies. Later on the same day as my front porch anal ordeal, Za'ana was dressed in her long dress and headscarf once again, lugging a suitcase out to her coworker's van. It was plain white with no hint of what media outlet she worked for. I found a computer- printed note on the fridge that said she would not be back for a few days.

I took some ibuprofen and slept for a while, then packed up my stuff. I was going to leave, but never got around to it. Other than frequent trips to the bathroom, the next few days were very quiet and I found myself missing her and the adrenaline rushes she created. I thought about her evident appetites, and realized it must be hard to find someone, especially in whatever closed society she came from, that would aquiesce to her demands such as I had so far. Za'ana had kept her word about showing some skin in return; her jiggling ass was beautiful. I decided not to abandon her or the B&B in desolate Rodanthe just yet.

3

About dark a few days later she returned, and had stopped on the way to get a twelve pack and a couple pies from a local pizza joint as a surprise. She changed into jeans and a thin sweater, nice but not provocative. We watched an old 1950's Sci-Fi movie and sat and chatted. It was almost like a typical date, except she was possibly some kind of international spy and had been able to manipulate me into doing things I never imagined. The pizza dinner was a nice change in routine for me. She was so beautiful and sweet. There was no mention of any of our extra curricular activities, and we said goodnight after a few beers.

The next morning I was awakened early by Za'ana, dressed in shorts and a hoodie. She had returned to her serious demeanor. The sun was up, but just barely.

"Breakfast later. Time to play our game. Here, boxers off, put these on." She handed me a pair of discount store pajamas, thin mint green cotton with a small compass pattern. I was too sleepy to ask why, and changed right in front of her since any modesty was obviously pointless. I had no idea what she had in store but I knew I had to go to the bathroom first. My bladder was painfully full.

"No bathroom! Come with me, I have something to show you." She led me, bed head hair and wearing those ugly pajamas with no underwear, outside and up the side stairs to the rooftop deck. I watched her beautiful ass as she led the way, serenaded by the creaking stairs and ever-present breeze.

The upper deck was only about eight feet square. It sat on the ocean side of the pyramidal roof, and had a view up and down the beach. Built-in benches lined the periphery on three sides. I was afraid I would be sitting on another table leg, but saw no surprises waiting for me, not even a bag of potatoes. I sat in an opposite corner from Za'ana. I wasn't sure if she had some big announcment, like she wanted to marry me for a green card, or was going to pull out her nine millimeter and use it. The sun was coming up, so maybe that was her only purpose.

"This bikini top," she said, "is the kind that gets transparent when it's wet." She unzipped the hoodie to reveal a shiny yellow top. Her lime-sized tits bulged into nicely rounded points. "If you do what I say Rob, I'll go down and get under the outside shower and come back up, all wet." She smiled tantalizingly.

I figured that the worst case was have me stand up jerk off upside down again with no pants on, that she just wanted me to do it with a full bladder since she knew how much beer I drank last night. The beach was abandoned and the cars and trucks on the distant highway at sixty miles per hour would have to be looking intently to realize what was going on atop this deck. "Okay!" I desperately wanted to see her dripping wet and up close.

"Sit back, relax a little. Time for a nasty challenge. Take your dick out."

I was alarmed she hadn't considered the activities so far to be nasty. I pulled my soft dick out and began to pull upward.

"No jerking yet. Piss on yourself! Spray it all over!"

I should have known this wasn't going to be simple. Again I resolved to leave the state, maybe the country as soon as I had the chance.

She began her threats to call her fiance until I relaxed my muscle and watched as a golden arc of piss flowed upward and landed on my stomach, instantly creating a warm sensation.