Teddy Bare in Captivity

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How my supplicant spent his first week.
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Whilst this is written as a story that can stand on its own it is also a continuation of an earlier submission 'the bad Teddy Bare.'


Oh joy. I have, for the first time in my life, a real live supplicant of my very own. Now just fancy that if you can. Me, Christine Walters, fat, fifty and widow of this parish has pulled a dishy slim young man of twenty odd years with a passion for big bouncy boobs, plump thighs, well rounded bottoms and navy blue knickers, especially navy blue knickers. Well I have all of those and plenty of them. Oh and he likes watching women through his binoculars, good job I've discovered that I rather enjoy being watched, with all my pounds and years it's quite flattering. His wife, well she's not going to cater for him. She hasn't the figure, she's all skin and bone. She hasn't the time, she's too busy climbing the greasy pole of success. Even if she had the time I cannot imagine she'd have the inclination, role play would be well beyond her imagination, unless of course there was money to be made from it. I already had the distinct impression that for them sex had become repetitive and conservative. So my supplicant, Teddy Bare, so named because he is called Ted and he has to be naked in my presence, will do anything I, his kind and indulgent Auntie Christine, tells him to.

I did have a husband until he went and died, my Arthur. He was quite adventurous in bed but no supplicant and I'm pretty certain that I would not have wanted him if he had been. Face it, when you're fat, female and fifty, OK fifty odd, a supplicant is great for sucking your nipples, even better for licking your sweet moist sex and does the most amazing things for your ego, not to mention your libido. On the other hand, if you're twenty and trying to buy a washing machine or put up shelves a supplicant is exactly what you do not need alongside of you.

Teddy Bare has confessed to me that he needs me and I intend to keep it exactly that way. Not least because I have discovered that the feeling of power his pathetic obedience to me engenders is so vitalising! Also, I am beginning to need him and I am definitely going to prevent him from finding that out.

Today I have to see Ted but, unfortunately, not as my little Teddy Bare. Today I have to lop a mass of branches that straddle my hedge and then extend over his garden from some of my apple trees. Sadly, this morning he has to be my good neighbour Ted and I'm simply Christine across the back. Anyway it would be too soon. I'm going to make him wait before I allow him to satisfy his darker lusts: that ought to keep him on his knees.

I telephoned Ted at ten to ask if he had the time to hold the ladders for me. He assured me he did but wanted to know what he was to call me. I explained, "outside of my house it's Christine or Mrs. Walters, dependent upon the circumstances. It's only when you cross my threshold that I become your Auntie Christine and you are transformed into my Teddy Bare." I dressed especially for the occasion in clothes picked to lead poor Ted by the nose. I donned an old, somewhat threadbare blouse which did rather show my nipples, flat shoes, a denim skirt and a pair of big baggy navy blue knickers. Well I had plenty of the those now; I had made them especially for him earlier in the week, after I had winkled out his not so little fetish.

I tootled round to his back door but before I knocked I undid most of the buttons down my blouse to give Ted a clear view of my cleavage. His unwavering stare made his appreciation of my attention to this little detail all too obvious. Naturally, whilst he held the ladders and I snicked away with the secateurs he gazed up my skirt, gawping longingly at my voluminous navy blue knickers.

"Terrific vista from your garden Ted, you can see it all" I teased.

"The best in the neighbourhood at this time of year," he replied.

"Good to see clear blue above, Ted, not a cloud in sight." I called.

"Oh really? I thought there might be rain later it looked a little damp to me," and so our banter went on.

I only alluded to our liaison directly once, when I was leaving at around one o'clock, "could you pass a message on to Teddy Bare?" I asked Ted.

"Certainly Christine," he replied, keeping in role and managing to maintain a straight face.

"Tell him his Auntie Christine says he is not to stroke or play with his little winkle until four o'clock today. When he does come out to play he is to wear those old blue knickers and nothing else. Don't worry he'll know the ones."

"I'll be sure to make certain he gets the message right away," Ted answered.

"Thank you Ted, don't work too hard this afternoon and you simply must pop in for afternoon tea and cake again sometime soon. I really enjoyed your last visit, I hope you did to? I'll give you a tinkle when it's convenient."

"I most certainly did," he laughed, "I'm always available to munch on your delicious creamy buns, just give me a ring when it suits you."

It was going to be a long afternoon so, after my lunch of stilton on Carr's Table Water biscuits and lemon tea, I baked; cupcakes for the little footballers next door but one. I find baking soothes me and that afternoon it kept me pleasantly distracted and my eyes off the clock until it was time for my shower at half past three. Actually, between lunch and baking I did slip up to my back bedroom but only to set the video camera up ready for later.

At twenty to four I commenced my fitness regime, twenty minutes on my exercise bike and then a workout on the step, all done in my back bedroom, which Ted could easily see into from a window in his attic. There he was, looking ridiculous in just my navy blue knickers which covered, but did nothing to conceal, the huge bulge inside of them. As per Auntie Christine's instructions he would have to just watch me peddle away in my bra and baggy knickers until four o'clock. Naturally this session, featuring Ted's debut of wearing women's underwear was one I was going to immortalise with that video camera.

I clutched the remote control and as my legs trundled round and round I zoomed the camera in and out slowly. By doing this the view recorded alternated between a close up of him, binoculars to his eyes, and general view of me with him in the background, establishing beyond all doubt that it was me that he was watching. At four o'clock I zoomed out the video camera, stopped my cycling and removed my bra and my knickers making sure that I kept in the frame of the camera. Then, once free of my underwear, I zoomed back in on Teddy.

When I began my naked step ups, bang on four o'clock, he commenced pumping away at his todger for dear life. When he reached his orgasm it was blatantly obvious, although the view of him climaxing was not quite so explicit as it were in some of my previous recordings of his voyeuristic spurtings. Still there could be no doubt about what Ted had just done, and to confirm this there was now a nice dark stain spreading over the front of his knickers, just above the now soft bulge inside. Finally I zoomed out for a final time and did a little pirouette, pausing to make a small bow to the camera when I was facing it. After that I crossed over to the chest of drawers, took out my wonderful big silver vibrator and, to ensure he knew my intent, waved it at Ted before I retired to the bed in a back corner of the room and disappeared from his view.

That vibrator felt absolutely delicious as I held it against the slot of my sex set to its maximum setting. Moreover, watching Ted make such a fool of himself - poor man tossing himself off in those big blue knickers - had set my juices flowing ever so liberally, they were simply gushing. And yes, the climaxes my big silver toy extracted from my prone frame still chased one another through my writhing body causing me to shout my joy unrestrainedly, sometimes even causing me to scream as it gradually relieved me of my pent up tensions; so don't misunderstand the next bit wrong.

Vast as my pleasure had been the effects were as intense as they had been when Teddy Bare pressed the vibrator into my slippery sex. Rolling and twisting your own nipples is nice but it is simply not as good as having a man suck upon them. Moreover, I just could not bare to force the vibrator against my clitoris as tightly as Teddy had held it there. To extract the maximum delight from that buzzing phallus I would have to have Teddy Bare return and my body demanded that that happen soon.

After I had taken all I could stand, and had enjoyed little rest, I revelled in a second session with my still extraordinarily stimulating vibrator. That subsequent series of climaxes left me spent and sleepy, it always does, so I took a little nap before I crawled to the bathroom. There, under the invigorating hot jet of the power shower I considered and contemplated. I could not really ask Teddy Bare over tomorrow it was, so very disappointingly, too soon. I was sorely tempted to as well, I really wanted him to make me come but I did not want to give him any hint of my dependency. As far as I was concerned he had to believe that it was he who needed me.

Saturday and Sunday were obviously out; Sandra, his beloved, would be home. It would have to be Monday. Then on Monday I could spice it up, I could set Teddy Bare a task, something that would make him humiliatingly hard and keep him that way until he arrived at my house. Better still if I made it Tuesday when I saw him I could keep him hard for the whole of Monday and most of Tuesday. When he finally arrived before me mother naked he would be so desperate before I had even laid a finger upon his luscious body. Could I last that long? That was a good question. I steeled myself, if I made a real effort I could and the resulting orgasms would more than compensate me for my forbearance.

Friday I quite maliciously disappointed Ted. I kept my bra for my exercises on both the bike and the step and then I went to the master bedroom to play with my little toy. These denied him any sight of my pendulous breasts or well rounded buttocks. Once I had twisted and twitched my way through a long train of noisy orgasms I thought about texting Ted to let him know that he was going to be set a task to perform. Unfortunately I became so moist as, character by character, I composed his ordeal that I just had to stop and give myself a second series of more gentle climaxes with my not-so-little silver rod. It was only after that that I found I could concentrate effectively.

Here is the message he received. 'Teddy Bare. After Sunday night no more climaxes for you until I see you on Tuesday at 2.30 pm prompt. Until then every two hours between 10 am and 4 pm on Monday and 10 am and 2 pm on Tuesday, inclusive, stand near your window where I can see you wearing just my knickers and stroke your penis for 10 minutes.'

The weekend crawled along so slowly. With Sandra around I did not dare to tease Teddy Bare too much, if she caught me the game would be up for both of us. Worse Teddy might try to become a permanent fixture and that would never do, no one can tease for ever. Saturday really crawled. In the morning weeding the garden and dead-heading provided some solace and by wearing my big blue shorts it afforded me a small opportunity to tease Ted. Unfortunately my jobs were all too soon completed. The afternoon really began to drag. I already had a surfeit of cakes so baking was out of the question and in the end, out of sheer desperation, I took myself off to the shops in the big city.

As I wandered around the giant shopping complex I plucked up courage and actually went into an Anne Summers shop. Aside from the underwear, the clothes were rather cheap looking and ill made on the whole, especially the more exotic uniforms. The vibrators were more interesting but they did not have one quite as large as mine. The 'door knobs' were weird, so much so that I asked one of the young ladies what they were. She laughed and said, "you stick them in you bottom."

"What?" I expostulated, they're huge!"

"Well some of our customers are very keen on them. We have some nice beads that are a lot smaller if you want to try. Use plenty of lube, we sell that too, and it gives you a really nice feeling."

I thanked her and scuttled off as soon as I decently could. The shop had, however, given me some ideas so I re-visited John Lewis where I purchased a length of black felt, a length of black cotton, a small piece of black silk and a long length of white cotton cord. On my way home I remembered helping 'my Arthur' with DIY and slipped into Homebase to spend an interesting twenty minutes in the hardware section. Not many other women in that section I can tell you.

Sunday was better than Saturday, I joined my walking group on a long circular tramp around Jarrod's Hill and Bluebell woods. It was about fifteen miles in total and took my mind off things. The group is nearly all women but never mind. The birds sang for me. I took some fine snaps of the old packhorse bridge over the river. We stopped for lunch at a little country pub and I treated myself to a second half of bitter; any more and, sadly, walking becomes rather hard work. As I tramped along I began to formulate a new plan but, unlike either myself or the cheddar cheese in my ploughman's lunch, it needed to mature.

In the afternoon I chatted to two members who I new vaguely, Cheryl Thompson and Evelyn Goodchild. Cheryl Thompson's Chris has been dead longer than my Arthur and she's often good company: if only she would keep quiet about her two 'boys'. They're in their thirties and seem to lead pretty tedious lives; very much like Ted really. I rather lost the thread of her revelations after that thought. It was hot, flies buzzed by lazily and I had tippled at lunchtime. As I plodded along I pondered if they, Cheryl's boys, would prove as easy as Ted was to seduce. They both sounded like they might not mind having their dull routines spiced up with a dash of the torrid, after all their wives sounded, well to be charitable, unadventurous and unimaginative.

When I returned to the land of the living Evelyn was telling Cheryl how lonely she was without Ronald. He had only died a couple of years before and she still missed him badly. I sympathised but life goes on and I soon returned to my fantasy of seducing those two grey sons. Lure them in with pie, no man can resist a good pie. Yes start your seduction with a pie and you'll melt their little hearts. Perhaps if Sandra could be lured out of the way I could make Ted a pie, deep flaky pastry, golden crust, with lots of melt in the mouth steak and lashings of onion gravy.

I became so self absorbed that I began to wonder if I might have lost favour with Evelyn and Cheryl but I restored my stripes when we stopped for a break. I offloaded a pile of the surplus cakes I had baked earlier in the week onto them. Evelyn, who was slender, praised them to the skies. Cheryl simply complained about how fat she would get but still ate two of the largest ones. I suggested vaguely that lonely Evelyn come over for afternoon tea one day, the way one does and I even took her number, but my heart was not in it. When I reached home once more I actually baked a pie. A steak pie with lots of mushrooms in it all wrapped in a golden crust, one that could be consumed hot or cold. By the time it had cooled Sunday was, more or less done.

Monday arrived and the time passed far more quickly, I had Teddy Bare to watch. Ten o'clock on the dot there he stood wearing my blue knickers stroking his very stiff manhood. He went slower and slower until, by the end of his allotted ten minutes, his hand was scarcely moving as he stroked. I grinned and waved. Then I stood on my exercise step, turned my back to him and lifted the hem of my dress to show him that I too had some big blue knickers on, accompanied by black stockings, red suspenders and a strip of bare white flesh.

Midday. Ted's hand barely moved. At the end of that pathetic performance I texted him, 'stroke the full length of your penis in future or Tuesday's date will be postponed. PS no pauses between the strokes either'. Two o'clock arrived. You have never ever seen a man masturbate so slowly in all your life. To add to his agony as he cranked I stood on my step, unzipped my dress and allowed it to waft to the floor. Next I peeled off my bra, ever so gradually, until my ample assets finally tumbled free and bounced softly and rhythmically. When they settled I wiggled my shoulders just sufficiently to set my bare boobs, along with their tightly budded red nipples, jiggling seductively from side to side.

The video of this performance, in which I could at last see Ted's face clearly, was a classic. You could see my state of undress mirrored in his grimaces. As I shrugged off my dress he stiffened and kept his head very still his face a mask of effort and concentration. As my bra came off he reddened but not with a blush, no he screwed up his face almost as if he were about to cry, a look of pure frustration. When I allowed my bosoms to sway so languorously he began to sweat quite profusely. Well now, if he was in such a state at two o'clock, come four I'd just have to up the ante, a definite challenge.

That Monday it was my resolve that was shattered by Ted's task. I had vowed that I would not pleasure myself until the four o'clock show was completed but reviewing the DVD of his two o'clock performance broke me. Watching Ted's anguish as he had to play with his little toy with no prospect of any reward at the end was too much for me. Thick white mucus was dribbling down my legs, my pussy was literally squelching with my desire, actually it was farting but I'm too polite to put it so explicitly. When I took my knickers off the gusset was almost black with my juices. I'll save them for Ted I thought.

Then I had a better idea. I'd not just save my navy blue knickers for Ted I'd continue to wear them all day and then again on Tuesday. I wondered if Ted would like to take them home with after his visit tomorrow? I did waver, however. They'd be so smelly and, more to the point, so might I. But Ted might even like that. In the end I decided to give it a go and see what his reaction was. Anyway after that show I could no longer resist the lure of my big silver buzzer. I was in love with that vibrator, it made me climax so hard and so often. When I was really turned on, and after watching Ted's performance on my latest DVD I most definitively was, I could hardly tell if I were undergoing a succession of very powerful closely spaced orgasms or just one long continuous one whose intensity fluctuated rapidly. What I had not realised was how much noise I made when I used it. Today, I found out.

Instead of lying on the bed as I had always done previously I sat in the big arm chair in the corned of my bedroom. Naughtily, I fixed up my video to record my responses so that I could watch myself afterwards. What a performance. Oh there was all the usual sighing and panting and moaning and groaning. Then there was the sucking in and hissing out of air between clenched teeth but that too is also normal when orgasms are intense ones. It was the sobbing, hysterical hiccupping, for want of a better description, and occasional scream that shocked me; I had had no idea. And the language, I didn't even know I ever used some of those phrases. It didn't employ especially foul language and 'yes' and 'oh yes' came into it a lot: alright, almost exclusively. 'Jesus fucking God', 'oh shit that's so good' and 'oh God, Sweet Jesus, yes' with the final 's' hissed out like an angry cat, those I did not consider to be appropriate behaviour for demure Auntie Christine.

Another thing; the DVD made clear how much I sweated! I oozed, I glistened, then I poured. This was no lady like glow this was approaching meltdown. My brow then my cheeks, my breasts then my belly, my thighs; they all became slick with sweat. Well my thighs were a bit of a mixture really and they were a little bit more sticky than the other areas. No wonder that after a session with my shiney silver toy I looked like a limp rag and was driven by an overpowering compulsion to shower.