Bound By Blackmail Ch. 25

Thankfully, the bathroom was a one person room with a lock on the door. I secured myself inside and immediately went to work trying to scrub the last of Dafni off of me. The warm water and generic-brand soap helped to smear the stuff away, but without any actual remover with some alcohol in it, I wasn't sure I'd be able to get it completely off. In the disgusting, stained mirror, I looked like an ousted clown. There was a mixture of reds, and pinks, and blues, and blacks that streaked together. The more I looked at it, the angrier I became and the harder I scrubbed. I went through multiple paper towels as I worked my skin raw. It got to the point that the anger and rage subsided and a rush of sadness befell me. I leaned on the pedestal sink and let some tears stream down my face before getting back to work.

It was a crummy makeup removal job, but I worked with what I had. The majority of it had been stripped away harshly. Still, there was enough that I knew anyone studying me would be able to tell.

Once back out in the store, I considered buying some rubbing alcohol to try and do a better removal job. With only thirty-eight dollars to my name, I much preferred sustenance in my stomach over someone gawking at a guy with smeared makeup on his face. I'd been laughed at for worse. Before leaving, I did decide to use a few dollars on my debit card to buy a soda and a bag of chips. It had been so long since having any sort of junk food that my stomach gnarled at the thought. To try and save myself from anymore embarrassment, I again held the napkin to my face like I had a cold. Whether the clerk bought it was beyond me.

"Rough weekend," the guy behind the counter asked. My eyes cut up just a moment to meet his. I suspected that he knew but tried to just brush it off.

"And then some," I mumbled. He didn't press it and I took my items and hurried back to my car.

The only place I knew to go was the office parking lot. I couldn't afford a motel without dipping into the Brother's money or earning my lodging by other methods. The lot was at least relatively secure. I could hopefully sleep and then head to my desk as soon as the building opened to get the money back in the safe. Until then, I wasn't sure I could actually sleep despite how drained I felt.

I devoured my chips and chugged my soda to the point that I let out and incredibly loud belch. That should have been a normal guy thing. Yet, the first thing that popped into my head was 'That's not very ladylike'. I shook my head to wipe away that thought and then moved over to my passengers seat to try and get comfortable. Not even five minutes in and I knew it was going to be a long night. To make sure I was up in the event I did fall asleep, I used the sissy phone to set an alarm. As I went to program it in, I saw there was a text message from the name 'Master'.

'Missing me yet? The offer still stands if you want to come back home, but it won't last forever. Sleep on it, if you can'.

I immediately clicked off of it, disgusted that he was even trying to contact me. It was him that threw me out. Even still, I wouldn't have wanted to stay for the price it would cost me. I meant it when I said I was through with that life. It was my hope that I could get some normalcy somewhere; perhaps get rid of my tiny tits and maybe get my cock to grow back to its normal size.

That brought my attention down to it; the one thing that truly made me a male, and it was finally free! As if to solidify that notion, my hand reached down and gently squeezed the crotch of my pants. There was no ridged material keeping it prisoner nor did I have to fear any sort of electrical jolt from Brady. Having been locked away for so long, at my touch I could feel it grow. For the first time in a while, there was a tent pitched in my pants, small but evident, like most all the deviants I'd come across.

Peering around the empty parking lot, I decided to let my liberated member out for some fresh air. It popped out of my boxerless pants in all its tiny glory. I still couldn't believe that those hormones had caused it to shrink so much. If I ever tried to pick up a girl again and actually got to fool around with her, both my pubescent cock and tits would surely run her off. I wasn't worried about that at the moment so much as actually having my own release; something that Brady had spitefully denied me.

Reclining my seat back, I got into a semi-comfortable position and got ready to tend to my own needs. My soft hand wrapped around my cock like it had with so many others. I had to take a moment and calm myself since multiple memories of that very hand jerking off other men came back to me. It was like I had slut PTSD or something. Had I been ruined from my own pleasure? That was something I was sure Brady would get a kick out of. I couldn't let him win in that aspect.

Trying to keep those points in mind, I began jerking my own cock. It didn't take long for the little nub to come to full attention. As I'd been trained, I judged its size to all the others I'd encountered. Sadly enough, it was the most pathetic. Shaking my head to get those thoughts out of my mind, I continued to pump away.

My brain tried to sift through other memories of actual women that could help get me off. There were multiple women I could think of that would easily make any guy blow their load. It was my scarred psyche that was making it difficult for me. I could just picture all these different women laughing at the short, tiny-dicked man that needed a training bra.

Then thoughts began to flicker towards the one girl, or close enough to it, that would understand my situation. As I pumped away, I could smell her perfume. I could see her short, plaid skirt swaying with her stride. I could picture her stepping right up to me; those entrancing green eyes locked onto mine. Her tits popping out of her tiny blouse, showing off ample cleavage, and rubbing right up against my own. I could see her reaching up, never losing eye contact, as her soft, petite hand gently grasped the nape of my neck. Her eyes began to close as she leans further into me. Her painted lips part ever-so slightly as they move towards my own. In a moment, they mesh against mine as her tongue invades my mouth. It expertly moves about as I'm given a passionate kiss. I don't resist. I don't fight. Then she leans away, just enough to said, 'Oh Dafni!'

"Oh, ALYSSA!"

My cock was full hard and I could feel that old, familiar feeling. Just like a pubescent boy, I began cumming a healthy, massive load. It pooled in my hand since I'd neglected to grab a napkin or tissue to catch it. I couldn't help but wonder if that was a sheer oversight simply from being denied an orgasm for months, or if my brain had been rewired to expect the feel of cum in my hands and on my skin. As I looked down at my own wad, I couldn't help but have my first instinct to be to slurp it up and swallow. I defiantly had some slut traits ingrained in me that I would have to work on.

Taking a napkin from my dash, I wiped away my load that left me with a residue that I was all too familiar with. While I was trying to deal with that, my brain focused on another aspect of what had just occurred. Of all the girls I could have thought about, it was Alyssa that had crept to the front of my brain. It was Alyssa, with her seductive perfume and feminine wiles, that had stimulated me both physically and mentally to the point of ejaculation.

I couldn't deny that there had been some connection between the two of us, or at least on my end. But I had to realize that whatever connection or feelings those were came from a world I was free from and wanted no part of ever again. I had multiple talks with Alyssa about freeing herself, which she had no desire for. She was content being the property and pet of both Roger and Eve. That was where we differed and that was where I had to try and sever any latent feeling.

With not much else to do, I laid back in my passengers seat and tried to nod off. In my time with Brady, I had learned how to sleep very uncomfortably; usually through sheer exhaustion. However, that was a very rough night, mostly due to the knowledge of having that large amount of cash and no means to protect it. The world wasn't going to be able to spin fast enough for me.

When morning finally came, I felt like I had maybe a whole collective hours worth of sleep throughout the night. My body was worn out, but I had other things to worry about.

"You're two hours early this morning," the receptionist said when I entered the building not five minutes after it had opened.

"Just got some work to get done," I said, hurrying along my way.

In my pocket was the money that would truly set me free. I felt like each camera was watching me inventively, knowing what I had in mind. As I approached my desk, I tried to slow it down and act casual. A shaggy-dressed guy with bits of smeared makeup still on his face rushing to a safe filled with copious amounts of cash would be suspect to say the least.

My finger trembled as I punched in the elaborate combination. The door opened to it and I tried to casually slip in the cash. There were a multitude of cameras and some that I may still not know about. That's how Brady had gotten me. When that heavy, solid door was shut and locked again, I felt such a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. Once again, I felt truly free!

After composing myself, I headed to the restroom. Though I'd been allowed into the men's room while at work, I had used a stall for every function. I still found myself gravitating towards them, but I stopped myself and took my rightful place at a urinal. I used to think that standing to pee was no big deal. Now I get why actual women think we've got it made.

At my desk, my first order of business was to write my resignation. There was no way I could continue to work in a building with my old, depraved master running all around it. I doubted that he could just go on about his business as if we hadn't shared this demented, fucked up relationship and neither could I. Plus, I couldn't continue to work for such shady employers and risk ending up like some of their other ex-workers.

After taking close to an hour to type it up, I sent it out. The timeframe I gave them was at their disposal; when my audit was completed or at weeks end, whichever came first. I would have loved to have just gotten up then and there and call the whole thing quits. The notion of running into Brady somewhere along the way just strengthened that idea. However, he was the reason I didn't just abandon my position. Though he had given me the money to return, I didn't want him somehow pulling another stunt behind my back that would fuck up my chances of leaving on good terms with the Brothers. I wanted to be able to leave without having to look over my shoulder. I just hoped that they would show before I'd have to take option two.

Throughout the day, I would check my mail to see if either of them had responded to my resignation letter. At the same time, I was still quite worried about Brady showing his face around my area. Though he never actually surfaced from what I could tell, I assumed he'd been spying on me at some point considering I got another message from him through the sissy phone.

'You look so sad sitting at your desk. Do you want your panties back to make you more comfortable? Come by and get them and maybe I'll let you beg to come back home to me.'

I was really starting to regret taking that phone from him. Like always, he seemed to have an eye on me even when I wasn't aware. Thankfully enough, I made it through the day without any other interaction. At the same time, the Brothers didn't respond to my email. Just to make sure my neck was clear of their guillotine, I'd have to tough out at least another day before I'd take my permanent leave.

I spent another cold, chilled night in my car. The small amount of money in my account got me a little bit of food but was dwindling fast. At least working a few extra days would get me a little money by weeks end that would hopefully tide me over till I could find employment elsewhere.

The next day yielded about the same results. I checked my emails constantly but never saw anything from them. At times though, I was certain I heard Brady's cart squeaking along. That noise made my heart race but he never showed. That turned out to be just another day of sitting on pins and needles. Sadly, and more-so annoyingly, the same thing happened on Wednesday. The only difference was that Brady decided it had been long enough and wanted to make contact with me face to face. Being the head janitor and in charge over the restrooms, he waited till I had to go relieve myself later that morning to make his move.

"Standing to tinkle are we?" I heard the gravely voice say behind me as I stood taking a piss at one of the urinals. It was enough to make me jump, a now knee-jerk reaction, and caused some of my pee to splatter off the wall and onto the floor. "See? That's the kind of shit that happens when a girl tries to stand up to tinkle," he joked.

"I'm not a girl," I reiterated to him as I stuffed what was left of my male appendage into my slacks.

"Still trying to tell yourself that, huh?" I turned to see him starting to mop the back portion of the floor. His focus was on that, but he was still talking to me. "I figured I'd pop in to see if you're ready to give up this foolishness and come back. You seem awful jumpy. Is that because you're hard up for some good dick?"

He took that moment to stop mopping. His right hand left the handle and he noticeably grabbed ahold of his crotch. That crooked grin crossed his face as his eyes cut over towards me.

"I don't want to have anything to do with you or any other depraved guys!" I said in a harsh but hushed tone. "The only reason I ever did any of that was because I actually believed your stories about the Brothers and what they would do to me."

"And you were quite wise to believe so, because they were all absolutely true. However, you played the part of sissy-slave so well that I dare say you came to enjoy it; a big, throbbing dick up your sissy-hole or crammed down your throat. Plus all the pretty things that you got to wear around instead if those dull, male things you've got on now. I know you're simply missing it."

He was trying to fuck with my head; either that or just trying to get a rise out of me. Though I was still quite miserable since leaving, it wasn't from any lack of that life. He had taken so much and I was just ready to move on from it all.

"I've already told you that I'll never want to be your slave again. You made your money off of me. Now just leave me the hell alone," I said as I moved towards the door.

"Okay, Dafni. But I'm warning you that your window of opportunity to take my offer is closing fast. Once that door is closed it'll be gone for good."

"Close the fucking door and nail it shut!" I said loudly as I opened the door and exited. Inside, he knew I hated that life and how I was treated. Why in the world would he think I'd willingly go back to it?

Brady, for the most part, kept his physical distance from me; at least for a couple of days. Still, I would receive taunting and cryptic messages from him on the sissy phone. He even went as far as to put a pair of panties and one of my bras in the top drawer of my desk at some point while I was away from it. They were a soft pink and the panties had a little message written across the butt of the; 'Master's sissy cum-slut'. I quickly balled them up and tossed them deep in the trash.

Walking into the building that Friday, I had an energy about me that I hadn't felt in a long time. Regardless of if the Brothers showed up for my audit, I was going to be done with their business and by extension their head janitor. There would be no more taunting messages, no more feminine items snuck into my things, no more meeting up and be accosted by him. At least that's what I thought. Brady was going to make another attempt at reasoning with me to willing become his full-time sissy-slave; this one being a little more extreme than just catching me in the bathroom.

Stepping into one of the elevators, I was about to be on my last ride up to my floor. Just as the doors were closing, a cart that I knew all too well wedged its way in to stop them. Brady had to have been waiting for me around the corner; like a predator pouncing on its prey.

"Hi," he said in a cordial manner along with a head nod; like he was just another pleasant human-being. "Floor?" he asked with his finger outstretched to punch one of the buttons.

"You know what floor," I said low and grumpy. With a smile and a snicker, he pushed the button and the doors began to shut.

"Well, Dafni, it's been almost a week," he started after the doors closed. "I'm honestly aghast that you haven't come back home where you belong. Sleeping in that shit-box of a car can't be comfortable."

"It's more comfortable than being locked in a frigid dungeon," I said, standing as close to the wall as I could. "And don't fucking talk to me. I have nothing to say to you!"

Brady, from the other side of his cart, gave a heavy sigh. With a head shake and reaching into the pocket of his coveralls, he produced a ring of keys that most any janitor would wield. Selecting one quickly more-so it seemed from memory than from sight, he slid it into a slot on the elevator control panel. Giving it a turn, the elevator came to an abrupt halt. We hadn't stopped on any floor and the door made no move to open. There was a look on his face, one I'd seen plenty of times before, that told me he had the power and was in charge.

"Dafni, I think we need to have a little heart-to-heart."

To be continued....

Evan is so close to having some semblance of his old life back, yet his old master is making it quite difficult. Can he hold Brady off and keep his Dafni persona as simply a memory or will he find himself once again bound as a sissy-slave to his old master? Let me know your thoughts. Thanks again for those that have followed the series.