Daddy's Dungeon Bail

"Number eight, he's not allowed to ask you for anything. Not even the time. Nothing at all. If he wants something, that's too bad. HE can do whatever he wants around the house. But you have to lay eyes on him every fifteen minutes, except for when he's in bed. If he decides to take a long shower, if it hits fifteen minutes since you've seen him, go in and peek. And he may not close any doors. You may close his bedroom door at night, but that's it. Every other door stays open. Unless you're in the room and you want it closed, like your bedroom, close away.

"Number nine, he has to be polite to you. No exceptions to that one. And that also means he has to answer every question you ask him, no matter if it's personal, or private or none of your business. You ask, he has to give you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

"Number ten, he has to be a proper little boy. No TV that's rated Mature Audiences, and no movies that are rated R or above. You have to make sure he's not sneaking in some sleazy R movie or something! You can watch whatever you want, just as long as he's not there to see it. And that also means no playing with himself. He'll be dying to, but he can't. Since we both know boys always listen to their little heads instead of the big ones, I'll put him in a chastity belt so he won't be able to masturbate. Just don't let him cut it off or anything." Emily giggles hard.

"Here's what you have to do. You have to make sure he follows those rules perfectly. If he doesn't, you call me the instant he breaks one. You have to keep a journal of what he does, when, and it has to be very detailed. If he so much as uses the toilet, it goes in the journal. And you have to bring him back at one o'clock Sunday. His car can stay here for now. You can drive him home. He won't need a car since he won't be going anywhere.

"Now for the big one. You have to leave something of great value with me. If you don't do your part, I keep it. If you do, you get it back. Just like bailing him out of jail. So think about it, do you trust him enough to take a big risk for him?"

Emily actually thinks about it, which surprises me. I expected the flighty girl to make her decision without any consideration. Maybe she has a small brain in her head after all. Because it is going to be a big risk for her.

After a good minute, she finally asks "what's his bail? What do I have to leave you?" I'll bet she's expecting me to say something like her phone, which is definitely her most cherished possession.

I grin, my evil-imp grin. "A video. A video of you enjoying two consecutive, unbroken, orgasms. Keep your promise to me, and you get the video when you return him. But if you let me down, I keep the video and do whatever I fancy with it. Which might mean posting it online for all your friends to see. I'm sure Izzy wouldn't mind giving Terrance the link..."

Emily pales to an almost ghostly-white. Then I see a slight quiver take hold, slightly trembling her entire body. A few seconds later she starts fidgeting in her seat. I let her squirm, and have Sophie bring me a model release form. It's standard practice for porn stars to sign ones just like the boilerplate one I downloaded. Sophie brings me a pen, too. This way, I can't be sued if I do post the video of Emily. Which I won't, but I want Emily to believe I might.

Finally, Emily asks me, her voice nervous and unsure, "does it have to be a video? Can't it be something else?"

"Nope. His bail has been set."

"Do I have to..." Emily's voice lowers and grows even more tenuous, "with a guy?"

"Nope. There aren't even any guys here, just the naughty little boy in there and he's busy. It goes like this. I get my camera set up. You sit there. You tell the camera your name, the city you live in, your phone number, your age, and your bra size. Then you undress completely. Then you lie there and just enjoy a couple of really good orgasms. After the second, your dress. Then you sit back down and say goodbye to the camera, thank you for watching me. I put the camera's memory card in a sealed envelope. It goes in my desk. When you return him, your part done properly, you get the envelope back still sealed. But don't do your part, and you'll never see the envelope again, or it's contents. Except maybe online. You'll be very popular."

Emily blanches even whiter and fidgets around much more nervously. She stays quiet for a minute, maybe two. Finally, Ken cries out the most stressed, most urgent, almost pleading, and awful-loud of moans. The erotic utter desperation in his moan tells me that Paige not only swallowed his cock this tease but knowing Emily is out here, licked his balls while his cock was fully in her mouth. That drives guys crazier than crazy. And gets sensual moans like that one.

Emily trembles. In a voice I can barely hear, she asks "and if I do my part, even if he breaks a rule, I get the video back? No one ever sees it?"

"Right. As long as you call me so he can be punished for breaking the rule. That's your part to watch him, catch him, and call me. Do your part and the only way anyone will see that video is if you show it to them. Assuming you don't burn the memory card that is!"

Ken cries out another begging moan. It gets a single crisp shudder from Emily. With the unhappiest of looks on her face, Emily finally whispers to me, "I'll do it... I can't leave him like that..." I don't tell her that I wouldn't make him suffer like that until Sunday. I doubt he could. I doubt anyone could. If she doesn't bail him, I have an alternate plan. I have a spare kennel he can hang out in. But Emily will never know that. I suspect she'd gladly leave him kenneled.

I have her sign the release. She does, but reluctantly enough that it takes her two full minutes to sign her name. She might be a bimbo, but at least she's not a shameless bimbo, I think to myself.

With a snap of my fingers and a couple of words, Sophie sets up the camera, aiming it at Emily. She turns it on, turning the viewer around so I can see the image. It's perfect, it shows Emily and enough of the room that it won't have to be moved. With its ultra high resolution, I can easily crop the video to show only the "action" later.

Sophie takes her time setting it up, aiming it, and focusing the image. Emily sits uneasily, watching Sophie, and fidgeting more as each second ticks off. I couldn't ask for a better video. And I know Sophie has the camera recording every anxious second of it, even while she sets up.

Emily sits fidgeting, squirming around anxiously, with her face scrunched up. But she doesn't start. I just watch her squirm. It is just so entertaining! After something like a minute, I wave my fingers to Sophie. Sophie gets a piece of poster board on which she's already very neatly printed out Emily's "script" for this video. The entire script is on it. Emily's role isn't much of a speaking part. I heard Hollywood doesn't count moans as "speaking roles."

Emily sees it and shirks back into the sofa. For a few more seconds she says nothing. Finally, she starts reading her lines, her voice shyly muted, mousy, and lightly breaking. "Hello everyone, my name is Emily Allison Porter from McLain, Mississippi. I'm 18 years old and I wear a size 34-B bra. If you like what you see, my number is 601-246-1234." the reluctant shyness in her voice tells me that Emily is going to change her number the instant she's out of this apartment, just in case this video should "leak." Not that it would even slow anyone down if they wanted to find her. McLain has a population of a few hundred people. Which is why I would never put this online. I never take chances with those who amuse me, and in a town that small, there's too big of a chance of some pervert tracking her down.

Emily fidgets anxiously. She stays in her seat for at least another minute, until finally, I motion for her to get on with it. Only then does she hesitantly lean over and start very slowly taking her shoes off. Then her socks. She doesn't bother making a neat pile, but I didn't require her to. Instead, she makes a very haphazard pile beside the sofa.

It takes her a couple of minutes to get her shoes and socks off. She never looks up at the camera, not even once, leaving it with a view of little more than the top of her head. She finally scoots forward a little and takes off her belt. It's a belt that's clearly an accessory, not to hold her jeans up. It's wide and worn slightly loose, made of thin, soft, black leather with a shiny buckle. It ends up on the pile, too.

It leaves her nothing to take off that won't reveal something. She does as any woman with her choice would and pulls her top over her head. She does it slowly at first, unintentionally teasing her audience as she very slowly bares more and more of her stomach. She moves a little fast, almost normally, once she gets it up to where it bares her bra. It's not an expensive, or fancy, or especially sexy bra. But it is a cute bra. I'd bet it's from Wal-Mart, but that's the usual place new adults shop. It's a medium shade of bright blue, with full cups that cover all of her modest breasts. The cups are lacy, but also with a faux-silk layer under the lace so nothing shows through the lace. It has fairly wide straps around her sides, but those quickly taper to a narrow band across her back. And narrow straps over her full, narrow shoulders. And it has a smallish clasp in front, right between its cups. It's the kind of thing I'd expect a bimbo-girl like Emily to consider everyday wear. Comfortable, but not especially so, and still very cute, just in case someone might glimpse it. The kind of thing a woman might wear when she wants to feel sexy, but also seriously doubts anyone will see it.

Now it's time for her jeans to come off. She stays sitting on the sofa, her head looking down to keep her face away from the camera. She takes her time unzipping them. Then, with her hands at the waistband, she starts slipping them down just as slowly. It takes her a moment to get the waist of them down to where the back of it can't go any lower with her bottom on the seat. The front of them is still up then. She reluctantly lifts her bottom just a hair. Keeping the front of her jeans up, she quickly scoots the backside of them down, over her bottom, and drops back into the seat. She starts sliding them down her thighs, keeping both of her arms in front of her hips and leaning over far enough that her long hair hangs down to hide her panties.

It's a good try, and it's about half effective. It makes it hard enough to see her panties that someone would have to look closely. Except from my view, off to Emily's side, I can see them fairly well. They're simple baby blue cotton panties, decorated with little blue hearts that match the brighter, darker, shade of her bra. They have a small fringe of lace at the legs and waist, but it's a decorative lace, not a sexy lace. They have moderately wide sides to them as well that cover about two-thirds of her hips, leaving only the top third bare above the waistband. They also completely cover her pubes, and I'd bet most of her bottom.

I had told Emily to stand up while she undressed. As I've watched her, I've thought about correcting her. But I haven't. Stripping while seated, the shy way she's doing it is making for a video that's pure embarrassment of the most tantalizing variety. It works. This video would be far more popular than if she were standing. So I let her get away with it.

Now Emily really has no choice. She has nothing left except for her bra and panties. Taking either off is going to show a part of her she most definitely does not want to show to the camera. She stays like she is, leaning forward and using her draping hair to shield as much as she can of herself. She hesitates for a very long moment. Then I see a slight quiver being flowing over her body.

Emily wiggles a single hand up under her chest, still leaning forward as far as her waist will bend, her hair hanging over her knees. She works slowly, and I can her hand fumble a couple of times before she gets her clasp undone and the bra's cups fall free. Her other hand starts nudging the straps off her shoulders, letting them fall to her elbows. And then, finally, her hand pulls the bra out from under her folded chest and carelessly tosses it to the pile. As soon as the bra is clear, Emily's arm presses tightly to her chest, covering her breasts.

She fumbles with her free hand to get to the waist of her panties. She refuses to sit up, or straighten up, even a bit. She tries to push her panties down with one hand, from the front. It's clumsy. She finally has to lift her bottom again, raising it a scant inch from the sofa to slide her panties off her cheeks. As soon as they clear her globes, her bottom is back on the seat and she scoots then down her thighs. Once they clear her knees, they all but fall to the floor. Without even looking, she tosses them in the general direction of her pile.

Emily sits still for a moment. Then she wiggles her free hand under her. I motion for Emily to sit up. She very uneasily starts slowly straightening up. Eventually, she gets to sitting up almost rigidly straight. Her hair isn't long enough to hide her breasts, or I'm certain she'd brush it into place over her mounds. Instead, she sits with her arm tightly clamped over those mounds. Her arm is lean, though not especially lean or bony-thin. But it still manages to cover plenty of her breasts. Far more than the average sexy bikini would. Only the very tops, right where they meet her chest, are visible. Nothing that a moderately modest outfit wouldn't show. She keeps her other hand pressed just as tightly against her body, her hand over her pubes, stretching and straining to cover what I can now see is a dense bush. She seems to rely on the sofa to cover her pussy, which it's doing. Her face is shyly cringed up hard. Her body is chirking inward just as strongly, her shoulders almost curling in on herself. She tries to keep her face turned a bit, away from the camera. She shakes her head a couple of times, getting those long, straight strands of hair to cover part of her face. Not enough of it, but some of it. I can see a faint trace of wetness to her eyes.

It is so obvious that Emily is absolutely embarrassed just to be sitting here naked. And that she's even more uncomfortable doing it. Which makes me wonder why she is. After all, this is plenty degrading enough without the camera, and more so with it. I wonder if she might secretly want me to push her beyond her modesty, although I'm confident she definitely does not want me to do it on camera. If at all. I don't know her well enough yet to have a good guess why she's doing it. But I'm fairly sure it's not for dad. At least not too much for dad.

Emily watches me with a very anxious eye. One that knows what's coming, dreads it and prays for another second of mercy before it comes. She fidgets almost wildly. And she doesn't dare say anything. That might remind me to pay attention to her instead of just letting her sit like this. I give her half a minute or so to squirm. Anticipation is always worse than actually doing it, the sitting there knowing it's about to happen, that she desperately doesn't want to, yet won't be able to refuse when it finally happens. Her mind is so conjuring up images of how bad it will be, and all of them are worse than the truth. So I leave her to squirm.

"You must be feeling so shy this evening Emily Allison!" I say to her, quietly, knowing that the camera's mic will barely pick my voice up. "Since you didn't stand to undress, as you were supposed to, now you can stand up, put your hands at the small of your back, and turn around very slowly to show you naked body to my audience. Or we can just forget all about this..." I add with a good note of firmness in my voice, "since you've already not lived up to your end, that is." I wonder if she catches my meaning, that I could claim ownership of this video for her shyness-induced failure to obey.

Emily says nothing. She sits for a moment, then almost springs up to her feet. With her hands still modestly covering herself, she trembles. She stands, trembling constantly, for a long moment, maybe fifteen seconds. At first, her hands creep, barely moving at all. Very teasingly-slowly, her hand bares a growing sliver of dense black curls on her pubes. It's enough of a slice for me to know that her bush is neatly trimmed inside her bikini line. Just as teasingly-slowly, her arm moves across her chest, baring nothing until, close to a minute after she got to her feet, only the tips of her fingers are left to cover the top one mound. Her arm still fully covering the other. Now that her choice is reduced to exposing herself, or quitting, her hands fly to her back.

Emily stands up rigidly. She has a fairly oval-shaped face, with a rounded chin, brown eyes, and a small soft nose. She also has a wide mouth, framed with plush, full, deep-pink lips. And light brown hair that hangs in full, but straight, tresses down onto the tops of her shoulder blades.

Her body is straight, with a modest, but obvious, feminine curve at her waist. Her stomach is flat. Her skin is a soft, almost pale, milky-white that looks smooth and delicate. I don't see any scars or blemishes, except for a single, medium-brown spot no larger than a pencil eraser, just over her left hip. Her legs are shapely and lean. She carries just enough leftover baby fat to hide any boniness and still leave her a cute, girly figure.

She stands around 5'4" and I'd guess about 120 pounds, which puts her square in the average ranges for a petite woman. I figure those panties are a size 5, plus or minus a size. More likely minus one if I'm off. Her face is what I'd call somewhere between pretty and girl-next-door. Nothing special. Nothing that's going to get her on the cover of anything, anyway. But cute, and attractive. A face that will definitely get her some male attention in life. Especially with her make-up skills.

Now I can finally get a good look at her breasts, too. They are very shapely, very firm and pert, too. It's as if her mounds just swelled up from her chest, stretching her white skin as taut as it could go. They're roughly the size of a half orange and almost the same shape. So nicely rounded. At the bottom, their curve begins where they rise from her chest, arcing upward as it flows outward. Then their tops are fully rounded, before flowing gently, and a little straighter, up to rejoin her chest. Even their sides are curvy and rounded, making a very defined, but shallow, cleavage. Those perky mounds are topped with quarter-sized rings of a light pink. At the center on her rings, medium-pink nipples stick out straight, far enough to have sides that are almost straight, like a tube, but turning into softly rounded tips. And right now, as Emily stands here displaying her nakedness shamelessly and cringing modestly, those nipples are as hard as rocks. They're so hard that the lighter pink flesh around the nubs has pulled up so tightly that little goosebumps dot it.

On her pubes, I can now see that her bush isn't as dense as it looked. Until I look very intently at it and see the tiny stubble laced all through it. Irrefutable evidence that she's not only trimmed its edges but thinned it as well. Her hairs are neither short nor long, and they're more straight than curly. But they look silky soft. Her bush has a very defined triangle shape to it, except at the bottom where the point of it is less obvious. Instead of a defined edge to it, Emily has it thinned to fade away to nothing as it flows to her lips. Even standing, I can see her pussy. Her wide, slightly plump lips. Those fully meet, leaving a thin dark line for a slit. But they're long, and her mound is slightly puffy, making it look like her slit rises up into her pubes.