The Recluse

Lisa Clarke was living the dream life. She was the twenty five year old trophy wife of a forty year old billionaire. Her stunning beauty was only exceeded by her naiveté. And that was saying something because Lisa had a face and body that models spend their life savings on to attain. Having such attributes, along with a husband willing to lavish her with anything she desired simply to keep her around, didn't require much in the way of intellect.

Perhaps it was this lack of mental prowess, or perhaps it was a general proclivity to being a recluse, that her reputation in society was indisputable: Lisa Clarke was eccentric.

Her eccentricity was the bane of every man who thought they would swoop in and save Lisa from her station in life. Well, maybe they weren't so much interested in saving her. All any man that ever laid eyes on her wanted to do was fuck her. And Lisa would have no part of it.

Or so everybody thought.

Andrew White—who despised being called Andy—lived in the house closest to Lisa and her husband. By close, I mean about a quarter mile away in an exclusive, gated community on the outskirts of town. Andrew was eighteen and his parents were merely multi-millionaires.

Lisa could not pick Andrew out in a lineup if her life depended on it. First, there was nothing extraordinary about the teenager. Second, she rarely saw him and never gave him a second thought when she did. Unfortunately for her, Andrew recognized this fact.

Andrew was brilliant. He was studying astrophysics in college after graduating from high school two years early. Astrophysics involves the physical properties of celestial objects. At the moment, Andrew was enthralled by the physical properties of the celestial object that lived next door to him.

Over the years, Andrew accumulated some pretty fancy, and expensive, telescopes. All of them were capable of having a camera attached. Not always were the telescopes pointed to the heavens from Andrew's makeshift observatory in an upstairs corner room of his parents' mansion.

Within the past year, Andrew perfected the science of aiming one particularly suitable telescope at Lisa's manor and, over a matter of weeks, determined which room was which. Just as importantly, he had an unobstructed view of her back yard.

Lisa Clarke's back yard was likely not similar to yours. Hers was a sprawling expanse of cabanas and whirlpools surrounding a massive swimming pool and acres of greenery.

Lisa always thought it was private.

The only thing that was private was Andrew's collection of thumb drives containing images of her topless or nude, sunbathing or swimming, eating or drinking. She was always alone. These pictures were not the blurry, mile-away images of movie stars you see from paparazzi in magazines. In Andrew's pictures, you could count the freckles on Lisa's chest.

Countless loads of cum were pumped into towels in that observatory as Andrew watched her. He imagined what her perfectly firm, full tits would taste like. He dreamed of his tongue sliding up and down her pussy, savoring her sweet juices. He could feel his hard cock opening her from behind as she bent over.

Thus were the statuses of eighteen year old Andrew and his twenty five year old neighbor Lisa at the time. Things were about to change.

A lesser mind than Andrew's may have missed it. But his memory was almost photographic. Besides, visitors to the mansion were so rare when the old man was out of the country that anyone driving in other than the pool cleaner and cleaning ladies was noticeable. For the same Porsche with the same male driver to appear twice in one week was the same as setting off an alarm for Andrew.

Also, the man and Lisa were never together outside of the house when he was there. If he had been a relative or business associate of the husband, they would likely go out back at some point where all other entertaining seemed to take place.

Instead, they stayed inside. That meant Andrew had to conduct a room-by-room search using the telescope. It was on the visitor's second visit that Andrew struck gold in a most unexpected place.

A room on the uppermost floor of the mansion was often ignored by Andrew because it was never used, or so it seemed. But this time he focused in on two figures moving about in the center of the room. Clearly it was Lisa and her guest.

The moment he saw them embrace, Andrew's mind began to fill with schemes. He begged them to remain in view so that he could capture as many images as he could. He nearly shouted with glee when more lights came on and he realized the walls were virtually swathed in tall mirrors.

The couple kissed and groped for over a minute. Then the man grabbed the front of Lisa's blouse and viciously ripped it open, buttons flying in all directions as Andrew watched and repeatedly hit the remote shutter button. Lisa was roughly turned in place and the man tore off her bra.

So, they were going to fuck and Andrew might or might not have an angle to see it, he thought to himself. He watched with delight as the man reached above him and pulled something down. Then Andrew saw Lisa's arm being raised and tightened into a wrist strap. Then the other arm went up. She stood there, topless, in the dead center of the room in full view.

In the mirrors, Andrew saw that she wore tight jeans. These were quickly stripped off her by the man and Lisa hung in just a pair of tiny panties, not much larger than a thong.

The man circled her, apparently talking as he moved. Andrew judged him to be about thirty, maybe a little less. He was rugged, handsome, and very athletic looking. His clothes were still on.

He tugged on Lisa's blonde hair, yanking her head back and causing her bare chest to thrust out. Andrew saw Lisa's mouth open in an exclamation of either pain or...something. Her captor lowered his mouth onto hers and smothered her in a kiss while she struggled.

Then he disappeared for a few seconds. Andrew didn't panic. The man wouldn't leave her there. In time, he returned with something in his hand and Andrew squinted to make it out. Suddenly, it thrashed across Lisa's tits and Andrew recognized the thin braided bands of a leather whip, similar to the type he'd often seen in online BDSM videos.

Andrew was fascinated as much by the expressions on Lisa's face as he was on the redness of her nipples and tits. Each subtle strike of the whip brought a new contortion of her facial features that, unmistakably, were not indicating pain alone.

His dilemma was how to capture the images of what he was witnessing while, at the same time, taking care of the huge erection growing in his shorts. An easy, temporary fix was to pull out his cock and he did that, never taking his eyes off Lisa's body and the whip assaulting it.

Andrew could see down to about her knees without using the mirrors on the wall, and down to her feet if he focused the camera on that spot. Therefore, he was able to see when the man moved the whip down to her pussy and ass. Inch by inch the man's actions began to pull her panties lower until she was exposed. Lisa writhed within her constraints the entire time until, finally, the man ripped off the last of her clothing.

Andrew lost sight of the man for a while, but hints from the mirrors told him the guy was undressing. That ultimately proved to be correct when he stepped back into Andrew's view, running his hands up and down the front of Lisa's body, and then slowly walking around her. There wasn't an inch of her body the man didn't touch at some point during the journey. By the time he was done, the man's cock was pointing up like a pole.

But it wasn't that cock that Andrew next saw against Lisa's nude frame. The man had vanished, only to show up again with a massive vibrator in his hand. It looked to Andrew like a bowling pin, the head was so big. It was that device that was used against her and Andrew could practically hear her squeals. Some of his best pictures so far included the ones of the vibrator massaging her tits and taunting her clit.

Andrew frantically pulled on his cock, thinking it totally unfair that a piece of plastic was doing what his rigid hard on could be doing. Meanwhile, Lisa squirmed and wriggled as the man smiled.

Then it was time for Andrew's money shots; time for the fleeting rapture that would haunt Lisa forever.

Lisa's secret lover moved in front of her, nothing in his hands but his own cock. He got into position. Lisa wrapped her legs around him and the man held her by the ass. Andrew captured the scene of the man's cock sliding into her pussy.

The rest was predictable and Andrew took a few seconds away from the telescope and camera to find a towel. Then he watched. The fucking was fast, furious, and entertaining. Lisa's tits bounced in delightful uniformity. The man's arm muscles bulged as he embraced her. His hips thrust forward and upward with violent regularity.

It was obvious when they simultaneously came. Andrew had seen enough porn with the audio turned down to recognize an orgasm when he saw one...or two. He held the towel in place and deposited his own cum into it in a prolonged climax, envisioning himself in the man's place, unloading into Lisa's tight little pussy.

Lisa was eventually let down. The man eventually drove away in his Porsche. Andrew had his evidence. Life was good.

The next day, when Andrew at last had the time to peruse his photos of Lisa and determine which ten or twelve he wanted to print out, he fully realized the excellence of his collection. No sane woman—and he hesitantly included Lisa in that category—could refuse listening to his offers of silence on the matter. There would be a price, of course.

Later in the week, on a day when he saw Lisa roaming the back yard, he picked up the manila envelope containing the pictures and headed to the Clarke residence. He was casually dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, but made sure they were clean and presentable so she might at least let him inside the house without Andrew having to resort to unseemly means right off the bat.

Upon arriving, he rang the doorbell, and he waited. He rang it a second time a minute later. Reaching for the button one last time, he heard the immense wood door being unlocked and opened.

Andrew thought he was prepared for the moment of truth, but the sight of Lisa just a few feet away, wrapped in a long, white robe over what he assumed was her bikini, was almost too much. He simply stared while automatically mouthing the word 'Hi.'

"Hi," she answered with a thoroughly expression-free face.

She was magnificent. Her blonde hair was windblown and tousled. Even under the robe, her exquisite figure was obvious.

"Uh, I'm Andrew," he managed to stutter. "I live in the next house over."

He pointed weakly in that direction. Lisa had already noticed the envelope, and said, "Oh, did you get some of our mail?"

Andrew saw her gaze. "No. No, that's not it. I wanted to talk to you, Ms. Clarke. Can I come in?"

"Talk about what?"

Andrew gathered what strength he had left after first seeing her, and replied, "A private matter."

He could not have possibly chosen a better phrase to place in front of a woman of suspect astuteness. She was instantly interested. Lisa never answered, she simply opened the door wider and stepped back. Andrew entered and let his hostess close the door behind them.

"In here," she said, leading Andrew from the ornate foyer into an even more ornate library of some type. She closed the door to that room and looked at him.

He recognized the querying eyes and said, "What should I call you, Ms. Clarke?"

"Lisa is fine," the young woman said calmly.

"Good. Uh, Lisa, I have something I wanted to show you and perhaps afterwards we can talk. Are we going to be disturbed?"

She shook her head. "I'm the only one here."

Andrew looked around, concentrating on the large windows. "Is it possible to pull those curtains?"

Lisa did it herself, her curiosity growing by the second and Andrew's cock reacting to the sight of her stretching across to secure the curtains. Then she faced him again.

Andrew cleared his throat and began to open the envelope.

"Lisa, I have something you may be interested in. Perhaps you'll recognize, um, some...things...in here or remember the circumstances," Andrew said.

He handed her a single photo showing her hanging from the wrist straps, topless. The second one he gave her included the mysterious man dragging the whip across her tits.

The tiny muscles in Lisa's precious face twitched. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Andrew handed her a third photo of the nude man fondling her, quickly followed by a fourth showing them fucking.

"You're a fucking pervert," was her unexpected response.

He gave her the entire set of photos to examine and she thumbed through them one by one, getting a little quicker with each one until she barely looked at the last one.

"I should call the cops," Lisa said in a shaky voice.

"And charge me with what?"

"Stalking," she exclaimed.

"And the evidence that you would produce in the public trial would be...what?"

Lisa angrily threw the photos at Andrew, who felt obligated to begin to pick them up.

"What do you want?" she nearly screamed at him. "Money?"

Luckily, Andrew had time to organize his thoughts as he picked up the last of the photos, stood up, and put them back in the envelope.

"Nah, I can get money elsewhere," he told her.

"Then what?"

Andrew's eyes gazed around the room. "This is quite a place you have, Lisa. The back yard alone is probably worth staying with your old man. And I do mean old. You obviously like them younger."

Her face blushed from anger.

"Is he the only one?" Andrew asked. "Who else knows about that little room you used?"

"What do you want?" she repeated.

He paused. Andrew took a step closer to her and said, "I want you."

Lisa let out a nervous little laugh, clearly attempting to sound sarcastic. "You little asshole. I wouldn't have you if you were...," she began to say.

Andrew held up the envelope.

"I know where your husband lives," he said coolly. "I can find out his email at work in five minutes. I have dozens more of these pics. The really good ones."

Andrew stepped even closer and said in a low voice, "The ones where you wrap your legs around his waist and he shoves his big cock into your soaking wet cunt."

"Stop it!" Lisa cried out. "Stop it! Tell me what you want. Just don't send Michael the pictures."

Andrew grinned. "Much better. If you are ready to listen, here's my plan."

She bit her lip and nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

"There's no need to cry. You might even enjoy it if you let yourself," he told her. "I think today might even be a good day to begin. And then once I see you are on board with the plan, we can discuss future endeavors together, OK?"

She could only nod once again.

"Take off your robe, Lisa."

Andrew laid the envelope on a nearby table as Lisa untied and removed the robe. She did, in fact, have a bikini on underneath. A petite, brilliantly colored one.

"Turn around," he told her.

Lisa was tall, with the rare combination of both long legs and a long torso. While her tits may have been disproportionally large for her frame, her ass was perfection with tight little cheeks just begging for hands to hold them.

She didn't allow him an extended view. But once she was facing him again, Andrew said, "Get naked."

"Pervert," she hissed.

"Whore," he shot back.

Andrew could see her hands shaking as she untied her top. All the pictures in the world and the best telescope he owned could not prepare him for the splendor of Lisa's bare tits. He wouldn't put his mouth to them today, but he would think of little else until he did.

Then she was removing the bottom of her bikini and he had new realms of perfection to explore. Lisa tossed this last little piece of material aside and stood in apparent disgust.

Andrew duplicated her previous visitor's routine of circling her, lightly touching her ass, her tits, her thighs and her pussy.

"Very nice," he murmured. "Very nice. You have chosen wisely to obey, Lisa, because, as you now know, I own you."

He was staring into her face, just inches away, as he said it. Her lips trembled and he ran a finger across them. Then he took one of her hands and placed it on his hard cock.

"This is what you do to men," he said, rubbing himself through his shorts with her palm. "How you decide which ones get to you and which ones don't is your business. But you WILL let me visit you, Lisa. You WILL do as I say. Is that clear?"

She nodded.

He continued, "Tonight, at eleven, go up to your secret little den of iniquity and turn on a light. Stand naked directly under the wrist straps and use that vibrator I saw Mr. Porsche use on you to make yourself cum. Don't fake it, Lisa. I'll know if you do and you'll pay for that. I want a good, long orgasm. Understand?"

"You're sick," was her answer.

He smiled. "We'll see in the end just who is the sickest among us, Lisa Clarke."

Andrew took the pictures and left, the image of Lisa's naked body imbedded in his mind forever. The appointed hour of Lisa's private show for him came slowly, and he wondered if she would actually show up. But Andrew must have sent his message loud and clear because, right at eleven, the light came on. Then she appeared within sight of his telescope. He chose not to take pictures this time; just watch.

He watched without pants on, giving him easier access to his budding erection. Lisa didn't appear to be any too pleased as she faced the window and timidly ran the vibrator over her clit, but if Andrew had to guess, he would have said that any woman who apparently loved sex as much as Lisa did would soon give in to her need to cum.

The longer the vibrator hid her pussy, the harder Andrew got. He watched her change angles and the rapidity of her strokes. Soon, he saw just a hint of her body responding in the form of involuntary quivers around the stomach. Andrew masturbated slowly the entire time.

The next major indication to Andrew that Lisa was following his orders was the fact she put a hand on her tit, playing with the nipple as she worked the vibrator below. He picked up his own pace when Lisa's eyes closed and her face showed the effects of her ministrations.

Things happened quickly after that. Andrew saw her bend forward at the waist a little bit and open her mouth to let out a swift sigh. Then she did it again, but with more urgency. The vibrator was being frantically rolled over her clit and Lisa was clutching at one of her tits. Her entire lower body twisted and turned as her orgasm approached.

Andrew thought she was going to do the impossible: shove the gigantic head of the vibrator up her cunt. But she returned to her clit and Andrew suspected it was time.

Sure enough, Lisa began to cum, and there was no faking it. She squirmed in obvious delight as wave after wave shot through her body. She rocked back and forth on her feet while simulating a fucking by the vibrator. Andrew anxiously reached for a towel, but the first shot of cum flew from his cock before he fully had the towel in place. All the rest—and there were plenty—he seemed to capture.

Lisa had completed her task and disappeared. Andrew finished cumming and searched out the remnants of that first shot to clean it up. Lisa had passed the test and Andrew could now proceed with the essence of his plan.

Andrew fully intended to have Lisa all to himself for as long as he could blackmail her with his stockpile of photos. But there was to be another unsuspecting beneficiary of Andrew's evil scheme.

The day Andrew chose to kick off his campaign was a bright, sunny, and hot one, perfect for spending the afternoon in Lisa's plush pool area. In order to underscore his influence over her, he showed up unannounced and got assurances from Lisa that they had the afternoon alone. The only potential visitor would be the pool cleaning guy.