The Other Man

The drive there was mercifully uneventful as I could barely stop thinking what was to happen to me. My dear Master was working away and has left me in the care of a friend of his. I've never met this man and I don't even have a photo! I get the final message from my Sat-Nav... I'm here. Tall, red-brick buildings loom in an obviously working class area. I feel nervous. What's this house going to be like? What is he going to be like?

I gather my things from the boot of my car. Not rushing. I wonder if he's looking out of a window, watching me? I notice my hands shaking as I pick up my bags. Can't turn back now. Not that I could have anyway. My Master trusts this man, and so now must I.

Forcing myself forward, I look out for the right numbered house... Ahh, number 26. This is the one. The paint is cracked on the door. Shakily, I knock on it. I don't have to wait too long for a response. The door opens almost immediately and I see him. We lock eyes and stare at each other a moment before he beckons me in, wordlessly!

'Your room is up the stairs and on the right, go and put your bags down and use the bathroom. Then come back down to me when you're ready.'

'OK, I respond... to which he tells me: 'I am Sir to you; off you go.'

Blushing, I take myself upstairs to the sanctuary of my new room. The door has a window in it. No privacy! It is quite an old-fashioned room and hasn't been decorated for a number of years. The wallpaper is dirty and peeling and the net curtains on the window are filthy. The bed is a double and, on closer inspection, I notice some round screw things stuck roughly into each side of the headboard. A dusty lamp stands in the corner of the room near a door. On looking further, I find this leads to a bathroom, which is clean, but very plain and old looking.

I don't know what the arrangements are here. Master never told me much about what might happen. I am simply to accept things and submit as I would at home. This man is to look after me; I should be as obedient to him as I am to my Master. This might be hard. I have only ever submitted to him, never anyone else, well not unless he was there too. Here, I am alone, with no Master to support and take care of me. I sit on the bed, nerves overtaking me. I don't feel able to make the trip downstairs and face this man!

I hear him move about downstairs and I start to consider that maybe I'd better not keep him waiting. Quickly I wash and use the bathroom. I put on a clean dress and underwear and make my way down the steep stairs of his house.

Turning into what I believe is the lounge, I see him standing by the window. I have never felt so scared and nervous. He smiles.

'Don't look so scared, Girl. I'm not here to hurt you. I am to look after you and I shall do that to the best of my ability. However, I expect you to be obedient, and to do as you're told, when you're told, and do your Master – my friend – proud. I stiffen. I so do want to make my Master proud. But I don't think he could know how hard this situation is for me. Why couldn't I have just stayed at home! Why do I need someone to look after me! I'm not a child!

'Don't look so petulant, Girl, this will be a pleasant experience. Well, I will make sure it will be for me, anyway. Sit down in the chair.'

He gestures towards a dark green armchair in the corner of the room near the fireplace. It's comfy to sit in... so, I make myself comfortable. He watches.

'Are you wearing underwear, Girl?'

'Yes, Sir. I am.'

'Well, you are not permitted to wear underwear in my house, or out of it. You may, however, wear a dress as long as it's not too long and I approve of the style.'

I stare at him blankly. Starting to feel quite angry about this situation... I don't know this tall man with the red hair. Who is he to dominate me? Oh, I wish I could speak to Master.

'Return to your room and wait there on the bed; I shall be up there in a moment.'

Back in my room, I'm unsure of what to do. Should I remove my underwear now as he said? Or just wait? With a deep sigh of resignation I take off my knickers and put my dress back on over my naked body.

I stand by the window looking outside at the many houses close by. Children play outside, skating down the steep road. I can hear them laughing. Women chat on the street. All those people who have no idea what is going on behind these walls so close to them!

The man who is known only to me as Sir is a large man... and I can hear him walking slowly up the stairs. I don't stop looking out of the window. Can't bring myself to face him. He enters the room.

'Turn to me, Girl'

He hasn't shaved, possibly for days - a large amount of growth lies on his face, threatening a beard if he leaves it much longer. I don't care for this old and unkempt man touching my youthful curves and I'm unhappy that I'm placed in this awful situation.

He approaches me and reaches out. I stiffen as he pulls my back towards him. Feeling with his hands from the top of my neck, down and around my breasts, pausing to tweak gently each nipple. Pushing firmly, he goes lower and cups my pussy over my dress. He rubs me back and forth like that for a moment until I sigh gently. Maybe this won't be so bad?

'Hold your dress up for me!'

I do as I'm told, and he reaches down and touches me, running his hand roughly up and down between my lips. It's too rough to be pleasurable and I gasp loudly. He laughs and suddenly pushes his fingers deep inside me. This is too much too fast. I start to struggle. I want to get away now. Grasping at a nearby dresser I try and pull on it to get away. He grabs me fast and shouts at me to behave.

'Please let me be, Sir.'

'If you can't behave, Girl, I shall have to punish and discipline you... as well as call your Master to tell him of your bad behaviour. Is that what you want? Still holding me tight to his body, he repeats himself:

'Is that what you want? Answer me!'

'No, Sir.'

There's no point fighting and I slump against him.

'Good Girl,' he whispers hotly in my ear.

Deftly, he unzips my dress and pulls aside the straps to allow it to drop to the floor. I'm so glad he can't see my face because I'm burning with shame. I can still see outside from here, through his net curtains. Seeing people go about their business while I am violated.

He bends me over the dresser, pushing my face deep into it. He feels desperate, hurried. Perhaps he hasn't had a woman in this house for some time? Why did Master send me here? I still struggle to understand. The man moves back and surveys me. Resigned to this I stay in place; I have been trained well by my Master and as I'm not able to leave, I may as well submit and be good for this man and my Master.

Kicking my legs roughly apart before he unzips his trousers, I ready myself for his intrusion. I'm not wet, so I just hope he goes gently. His cock nudges towards my pussy and he reaches down and guides it in. With one hand on my hip pulling me to him he uses the other to pull on my hair.

I can't help but start to moisten and it becomes more enjoyable. I push myself back onto his cock. My hot breath making the mirror, on the dresser I am bent over, steamy. He thrusts harder into me, grunting. I don't think he'll take long and I'm right. He quickly comes inside me. The feel of this old man's hot cum inside nauseates me. He pulls out... and it drips slowly down my legs.

'Clean up, Girl and come back downstairs!' he grunts at me, before doing up his trousers and leaving the room. Dazed, I stand naked by the dresser, this strange man's cum sticking to my thighs. I stagger into my bathroom and turn on the shower... grabbing down the shower-head to spray my most intimate areas first, ridding them of his seed.

I take my time drying myself and getting dressed again – in no hurry to go downstairs. I am hungry, though, and hope I'll get something to eat soon. Soon I have no more reason to stay in my room, so make my way downstairs again. Sir is in the kitchen and I stand by the door.

'Sir?' I alert him to my presence.

'Lunch is ready,' he says, 'Go and sit at the table.'

I do as bid and sit at the large wooden table in the kitchen. He places a bowl of soup and some bread in front of me and I eat quickly, straight away. I feel better for some food. He also eats, and then instructs me to clean the dishes, and then join him in the lounge. He leaves me alone in the kitchen, which is basic and not kept very clean. Limescale coats the sink and draining board. An old style unit stands in the corner holding tins and biscuits, which I can see through the glass.

I complete my duties in here as I would at home and, leaving the kitchen clean and tidy, I rejoin him once again in his lounge. The ceilings are high in this old house and it's decorated in the style associated with a man of his age, which is considerably higher than mine. He sits in the middle of a large sofa and looks up at me standing by the door... unsure of where to go, what to do and what to say.

'Do you get spanked often, Girl?' he asks.

'Yes, Sir.'

'Do you get caned?'

'Not very often, Sir'.

'Then I would say you're overdue for some discipline.'

Shocked, I stand there staring. Master spanks me yes, but he doesn't cane me for fun! Have I not done everything I was asked to do?

He beckons me to lie over him on the sofa. Slowly I walk across the room and take my place over his knee... my dress pulling tight over my skin. I try to get comfortable and hope he's not too brutal. I long for the comfort and safety of my own Master. His rough hands stroke my legs, pulling them slightly apart – my dress my only covering and protection from his hands. He runs his hands down my inner thighs, close to, but not touching my pussy. I start to relax into my submission to him. He runs his hand now along the slit of my pussy – more gently this time. I feel myself getting aroused and open my legs a little wider for his touch. Suddenly he starts to spank me gently, over my thin dress. Not hard enough to hurt, but it feels nice and I can relax into it.

He strokes my back as he spanks me gently, but soon the slaps get a little harder. Then he peels back my dress to my waist.

'Your bottom is nice and pink, Girl,' he comments.

Now he slaps me harder, over and over as I stuff my face into the cushion of his sofa. The pace gets quicker and I have to jam my feet against the end of the sofa, going stiff as he rains hard slaps down onto my bottom. Then, relentlessly, he hits me the hardest so far... about twenty times in quick succession.

'Owww, it hurts too much, please stop, Sir!' I say quickly and heavily, as I try and pull myself away. He pushes hard on my back to hold me in place and says:

'Submit to this Girl, or it will get worse!'

It takes all my strength to stay still as he continues to hit me hard. Finally his pace slows and I can start breathing again.

'Your bottom is now a nice deep red colour, how beautiful.'

He strokes my sore bottom, making me wince in pain.

I hear him opening something, like a cap lid. Roughly he pulls my cheeks apart and I feel the coolness of lube being applied to my anus. I'm used to anal play but it's always scary and humiliating with someone new. I shift a little in my position. Holding me still with one hand on my back, he nudges a finger covered in lube into the opening of my anus.

'Relax, Girl,' he says, as he begins to penetrate me with his finger. I squirm with the intrusion, this hideous man's touch fills me with disgust. How dare he...?

Pushing deeper, his finger fills me and pushes in and out painfully slowly, increasing the humiliation. Meanwhile, he plays with my hair as he leaves one finger inside me.

'How do you like that, Girl?'

I can't think of anything to say... so, I say nothing.

'Girl, answer me!'

'It's fine!' I say, through gritted teeth. He may have my submission, but I don't have to enjoy it.

Roughly, he pulls his finger out and relentlessly spanks me hard for about two minutes without stopping. Slapping each cheek alternately – eliciting screams and cries I can't control. Exhausted I slump against his body, the petulance knocked out of me. No longer do I have the energy to fight this. He places his finger once again at my hole and pushes it inside. Once again he asks...

'How do you like that, Girl?'

'I like it very much, Sir,' I say, trying to sound as convincing as possible. Now I'm just resigned to getting through this ordeal... and going home.

He finger fucks my bottom again, faster this time, and despite my repulsion to him, I notice I am getting wetter with his attention. He reaches round with his other hand and rubs my clit too, in time with the finger fucking. I moan into the cushions and feel an orgasm building. I'm going to have to ask him for my orgasm! For I don't think I'm going to be able to stop it.

'Sir, Sir, please may I come?'

'Not yet, little one,' he says. 'Hold on a little longer'

'He continues his touching of me. His fingers coated in my juices, squirming into the sofa, I ask again:

'Sir, please, I can't hold it anymore!'

'You may orgasm now.'

He laughs as I shake in his hands. He knows he disgusts me but doesn't care... my body doesn't seem to care either. He takes his finger slowly out of me and turns me over to face him. Lying on my back across him with my bottom on his lap, raised above my body. His hand cupping my pussy gently he says:

'You did like that didn't you, Girl?'

Flushed, I respond obediently: 'Yes, Sir.'

'Do you have any idea what I am going to do next?'

'No, Sir.'

'I'm going to give you a caning; then I'm going to fuck you, hard. Stand up and lean over the chair by the table and pull your dress up around your waist!'

I've been caned before, but not too hard and I'm really worried how far he will take this. I don't want to be marked too badly for my Master. I don't know how I will cope with submitting to this.

Leaning over the chair with my dress up, I wait, exposed, for his next move. He remains seated, watching me. He sits directly behind me.

'Open your legs wider!'

I open them wider, his eyes on me – my legs damp still from my orgasm. He prolongs my humiliation by continuing to just watch me. The silence in the room, the cold air, and his eyes are overbearing. Inside my head I pray for him to move, do something, anything...but watching me like this... is cruel.

Finally, he stands. My legs ache from this prolonged position. His presence draws near and then away again. He gets something from a cupboard and returns behind me.

Then he runs the cane lengthways over my bottom and thighs, teasing me with it. Prolonging the suspense.

Finally, he delivers the first stroke. I'm lucky, he didn't hit me too hard, but it still makes me take in breath quickly. I prepare myself for the next. He hits me again, slightly below the last strike across my buttocks. Slightly harder. Steeling myself for the next, I grit my teeth. He hits me two more times.

'How many strokes is that now Girl?' he says.

'Four, Sir.' I respond.

'Good Girl, I shall cane you ten times in total, and I wish you to count every second stroke from now on'

'Yes, Sir.' I whisper

Twice, I am hit again with his cane in quick succession. My bottom is burning now and it hurts. He no longer gives me much time to recover. Tears drop from my eyes onto the chair.

'Six, Sir,' I say quickly.

The cane swishes, cutting through the air before it lands across my flesh, cutting and burning. Screaming out loud, and jumping on my toes, it's almost impossible to keep my position. Two more times, I am hit with great force.

'OK, Girl. The final two!'

He shows no mercy as he delivers the final two blows onto my body.

'Eight, Sir,'

With what seems all his strength he hits me hard, twice with his old cane – my fingertips white from my grip on the base of the chair.

'Ten, Sir,' I say tearfully, relief obvious in my voice. I feel wetness on my bottom. Fearing blood, I ask if I may soothe myself.

'You may not!' he responds, meanly.

Reaching around me, he takes each of my hands and pulls them to the small of my back as I stand up. My dress falls back down over my body, catching my red and sore bottom. He leads me out of the room and back up the stairs. At the top we turn right, and back into my room. Standing in the doorway he raises my dress and pulls it over my head, leaving me stood naked. He reaches round touching and weighing my breasts in his hand. Then he runs his hands down my back and over my bleeding and sore bottom. I wince at the touch, although he is gentle.

'Get in the middle of the bed. Face down and kneeling!'

I know this position. It hurts to walk and move but I do as he says. Nestling into the old pale bedspread, I raise my bottom in the air and wait.

I hear him undressing behind me... throwing his clothing onto the floor. The lumpy mattress sinks behind me as he places his body on it. I feel sick as this naked old man approaches my own naked body.

The old man pulls my legs wider apart. I can smell his body odour and gag as I feel his cock brush against the smoothness of my legs. He pulls my sore and bruised cheeks apart and squirts lube unceremoniously around my bottom – as if I'm not a person, but a doll or some such thing. His finger pushes into me as deep as it'll go. My head pressing hard now against the fusty smelling bedspread.

He pulls out his finger and I feel him hold me open with one hand as his cock finds its target. Oh my God, he's going to anally fuck me! I'm already in so much pain from the caning! He pushes his cock against my hole... as I desperately try to relax, knowing it will hurt more if I don't. Soon he is halfway inside me and I'm praying for the end of this ordeal. With one last shove he rams his whole cock deep inside my bowels and holds it there, stroking my back.

He ass-fucks me slowly, gently and with the greatest possible amount of humiliation he can bestow on me. Fucking me and going too slow to be pleasurable. He's just enjoying seeing his cock deep inside me and is in no rush to finish. Time drags on and I pray for the end of this ordeal.

Finally he picks up the pace and fucks me harder, faster. His body and balls bashing my sore and bleeding skin. Finally he orgasms inside me; then withdraws his cock from my battered body... his revolting cum seeping down over my bloody welts.

'You may rest.'

He leaves the room.

Part 2 to follow.