Will you Watch the House for Me?

Should I assume Katana wants me to stay in her master suite? I mean, she makes me tidy up her bed every morning even when it's not been slept in. You know, fluff-up the pillows and move the stuffed animals around. That sort of thing. Might as well sleep in it -- no point in making up two beds each day, right? But I'd better check with her.

"Don't even think about it, Harold. No, you sleep in the loft. I know it's small, but it's just more of the vision I have of you staying the night at my place. I don't want you anywhere near my bed. (Don't take it personally Harold. It's just that my bedroom is very personal to me. ok? You haven't been snooping in there already, have you, Harold? You'd better never. Or our deal totally changes."

"No, Katana. I wouldn't do that."

"Good boy. Ok, now take your things up to the loft, and get into bed. I'll be thinking about you as I'll be spending the entire day with my Asian guide. We're kind of hitting it off, so to speak - if you get my drift. Be glad we're not there, or we might be keeping you awake all night. Haha. Nighty night, Harold. And seriously, again thanks for going the extra mile so I don't worry about a man staying in my house. It's so sweet of you to wear that thing. I know it must be hard. Oops, I mean difficult. Ha ha. So sweet dreams, Harold."

"G'night, Katana. Or, I guess I should say have a nice day there, you know, with your guide."

"I'm sure we will, Harold. I'm quite sure we will.".

And I heard giggling in the background as she hung up.

I couldn't sleep, thinking about Katana, probably having an Asian man showing her every oriental trick in the Kama Sutra. And meanwhile I couldn't even get an erection, much less go down and play with any of Katana's bedtime playthings or nighties.

***

I was awakened to voices in the house. Someone's having sex in Katana's bedroom! Probably a couple of her married coworkers having an affair, assuming the house is unoccupied, and just what they needed. So I crept down the stairs, hoping to surprise them and get an eyeful as they scampered away.

I burst into the bedroom, ready to yell "Surprise!", when I realized it was just her 72" TV that had automatically turned on, and (embarrassingly, if she ever finds out this happened) to a porn channel. Wow, look what Katana is in to -- the Gynarchy Channel. Is she binge watching "Married With Dick"? Me too! Dang!

I was mesmerized. I had not interrupted a romantically entwined couple; I had burst in on Wifey with her strapon strapped on and pointing Manny-Boy to do her bidding: Lay over the bedside.

I've watched the show a number of times at home (when Jen was gone, of course), and I can't help but always be impressed with Wifey's poise. And now it seems even stronger as I am so horny from three days without an orgasm and no hopes of any until Katana gets back. I found myself mesmerized by Wifey. The moment seemed to last and last as she stood there, arm out and finger clearly directing... the now *two* of us... to do her humiliating bidding. Manny-boy and me. Making me also do exactly as she directed Manny to do. I hesitated, then obeyed, laying over the bed beside him.

"Good boy," said Wifey. "Now get ready to receive your weekly punishment, Boy, and then we'll do your weekly prostate milking."

***

I hope I put everything back exactly as I found it when the ordeal was over. It wasn't my fault I had to look all over to find her remote to shut the tv off. And I don't even want to think about the things I saw there in her night stand. Nor could I get the mental image out of my head from laying across the edge of Katana's bed as Wifey did to me what she has so often done to Manny-Boy. I took it.. And Wifey dished it out extra hard this time as I lay over this bed that isn't even mine. It was as if Katana was there, with Wifey giving her lessons, demonstrating on Manny. Then Katana hesitantly nudged it into my backside. Wifey reminded us that all good boys should receive this weekly humiliation. It was embarrassing to know that Katana has the same dominant traits, most likely taking them out on her ex, and now... mentally, on me? And I was right here taking it. Dang. I was embarrassed to have laid there, across the edge of her bed til Wifey said I could get up and go stand in the corner. Shit. Eventually she let me come out.

So I rummaged around, found the remote, shut it off and ran up to the loft, hoping I left no traces behind.

***

Day 3 - Sunday

"Harold... sleep comfy in the little loft bed last night?" Katana's text awoke me way earlier than normal, and after a fitful night.

"Not really." I replied.

"Oh I'm sorry to have awakened you then. Go back to sleep. We're having a *delightful time* here. *wink* Sweet dreams. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Shit. My poor dick couldn't begin to do anything untoward. And she knows it! Fuck.

I rolled over and tried to sleep - I couldn't.

Eventually I gave up trying and got up and started working my way through my tasks, carefully checking them off as I went. And always aware she would double-check me on some part of it.

Katana's noon-time text before she retired for her night there: "Send me a pic of the fresh papers in the bird cage, ok Harold?"

I did her bidding.

"If i wasn't such a modest lady, I might have required a picture of YOUR bird-cage, heh Harold? LOL. *jkjkjkjk* (I wouldn't do that, you know that, right?)"

"Funny. **grrrrr**" I retorted.

She got a good laugh at my expense.

"Nighty night, Harold. We're going to sleep now."

What?????? "We're"? Bull shit. Why is she rubbing that in? She knows I can't even sleep with this thing on, much less get hard from her innuendo and imagining her in the house with me. Bitch.

***

Day 4 - Monday

It was a long afternoon & evening yesterday. But I was so exhausted I fell asleep early and pretty much disregarded her tv turning on again, apparently at her normal wakeup time. What a strange alarm clock. Must be the routine she was in when married -- awakening to do her husband as his early reminder before work each day. "Who's the real boss now, Motherfucker?" Dang. It's so hard to imagine this out of my sweet Katana's honey-coated lips.

In my exhaustion I had forgot to set an alarm. And being awakened again in the night didn't help. I overslept, and rushed to the office half-ready for my day.

At the office, MM called me out of my cube.

"Sit down, Harold. Now, tell me: Why are you so late this morning? And why do you think you can come looking like that, unshaven, hair a mess and your clothes looking slept-in? I have half-a-mind to put you into the city's Disciplinary Protocol."

"Please no, Mayor. It won't happen again."

"Ahem. I thought we agreed how I am to be addressed, Harold. Can't you do anything right today?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Mr. Mayor."

"If you were really sorry, Harold, you would show it. And showing the respect you would show a male mayor. Say, by coming around the desk here, and properly asking him to forgive you and showing proper respect for your superior, not to mention avoiding the protocol.”

“Yes Mr. Mayor.” And I arose to go kneel in front of my new boss. “Please forgive my failures, Mr Mayor. It won’t happen again, Sir.”

“See to it. Harold. And while you’re down there, you could demonstrate your honest commitment to greater respect. My heels need cleaning, don’t you think? Remove my heels and show them some symbolic respect, heh? Go on, get started Harold. There ya go. Good boy. No, not like that! Don’t you know how to suck a heel clean? Now do it. That’s it, in & out. Keep going. Good. Now the other one. And this time, put it down on the floor and bob on it, like bobbing for apples, Harold. That’s it. Nice and clean. You wouldn’t want Mr. Mayor’s thing dirty, would you? So from now on, you’ll see to it each morning, that his thing is nice and shiny clean. Got it, Harold? Both heels. Every morning. And if you don’t do a good enough job, beware where one heel might go as you bob on the other one. Ok?”

No way! Dang. Yes way.

“Yes, Mr. Mayor.”

***

And so my week went at work. Totally humiliating, to be her PA. Why did I ever consent to this job? Dang. And little options if I quit now; she’d black-ball me in this city and who knows how many others.

Worse yet, I’ve gone well over a week, doing household chores at Katana’s without hearing so much as a “Hi Harold” text. What’s up with that? I was performing all the tasks on her designed schedule, awaiting an instantaneous audit text, but they never came. My penis has been confined and super horny while she and her consort have been spending countless hours together, who knows doing what, but for sure whatever it was, it was too much fun to bother with a thank you Harold for my enslaved role to her. Dang. Bitch. I was so jealous of him, the lucky little bastard.

And her tv’s stupid relentless auto-programming coming on each night to wake me up — it has become my alarm clock now. I can’t ever go back to sleep, so I have given in and started sleeping in her bed, expecting my wake-up call in the middle of my night. Fuck.

And Wifey and Katana continued dominating Manny and me like we were pieces of shit — not unlike MM has been treating me each day in front of my coworkers lately.

Last night I even rummaged through Katana’s closet for her highest heels, much like MM’s. Patent leather. One for me, and one for Manny. Dang. That’s right. Poked right in there while we went over the bedside. Fuck! Wifey was such a bitch, making my sweet Katana do her nasty bidding, shoving it up my ass over and over. And then, as quickly as she had burst into my mind (and ass), she disappeared again, as if Jeanie on her magic carpet, returning to the orient and her sweet self once again — now to pleasure that Asian bastard. He would no doubt introduce unspeakable hardships on her naked body, punishments she had never suffered. Tortures that would mar her for life.

I awoke in a cold sweat. And a puddle of nocturnal semen that had seeped out onto her sheets! Oh fuck. What now?

Wait. That’s it! It suddenly came to me that ‘accidents happen’. Maybe this tv-timer thing was a pure accident. She timed it to come on at that time, sure enough. But perhaps she’d most recently left it on some random channel as she was flipping through them, lijely disgusted at this one, and turning it off at that point. That’s totally it. My Katana is way too sweet for this channel.

And how awful that i had assumed the worst about her this entire time she’s been gone. And she’ll be back this weekend and will undoubtedly see that I’ve been sleeping in her bed and toying with her nightstand items. No way I can get them all back into just the right places. I don’t even remember which heels go where. Dang. I deserve a horrible punishment for all this — not to mention for fouling her patent leather heels with my disgusting thoughts. I at least deserved the punishments that Katana must now be enduring. I fretted, tossed and turned til I fell asleep from exhaustion.

I awoke to the tv, but this time Wifey had Manny trussed up in a horse barn, ready to be whipped severely.

I need that! What else could possibly ease my guilty conscience from violating Katana’s trust? Yes, I need to be whipped. That’s all. It’s the only cure. I need her to whip me mercilessly when she returns. But I can’t. That’s just it, she’s not the type and I should never be thinking about such harsh acts, attributing them to her. And even if she ever meted them out to her former husband or me, surely Wifey made her do them.

She’s the sweetest person I know. And she must remain so.

So, no. No way can I ask Katana to whip me. But I do know just the very right person to do this deed to me. Wait. No way can I let that happen either. Fuck. MM would never stop whipping me to a pulp.

What’s a motherfucker like me to do? Damned if I do, and damned if i don’t.

Of the two choices, though, I really only had one.

I rang her cell phone, totally without regard to waking her up in the night.

“What the hell, Harold? Why are you calling me now? This had better be fucking important or I’ll have your ass when we get to work.”

“Mr. Mayor, that’s just it. I’ve done something terrible here at a friend’s house, and, well, uh, I need to be punished. You’re the only one who knows me well enough. I can’t let my wife do it. I’d never hear the end of it. And, well, you always are ragging on me and how I ought to be punished for being such a dufus. So now I’m admitting it: I am a dufus, and need to be whipped. And I’d let you do it, that is, whip me. Right now. Can you come do it before work so I can get it over with before my friend gets back in town?”

“On my way.” was all it said.

***

I was so bloody and bruised by daybreak that she gave me the day off to recuperate.

“And you’ll pay dearly for missing work, Harold. So this isn’t the last of it, bitch.”

***

Katana was smiling and crying crocodile tears as she saw me and rushed to throw her arms around me, giving me a giant hug at the airport terminal. And burying her face, embarrassed, into my shoulder.

“Such a dear. A sight for sore eyes, my friend. I’m so so glad to be back and in your care. The trip was what foreign nightmares are made of. The whole lost passport thing was bad enough, but spending the remaining 10 humiliating days in their penal colony, stripped at anyone’s whim and in front of all those horny men jacking off. You can’t imagine, Harold. And every night in the middle of the night, almost like clockwork, I was summarily awakened and taken to be whipped and penetrated by the Warden over her bed in the middle of the night. You can’t imagine, Harold, you just can’t... “

“... And I have more bad news, Harold. At the colony, they confiscated my phone and all my belongings! And all this because the son-of-a-bitch guide stole my passport when I wouldn’t pay off his gang of brothel buddies. They demanded sex in exchange for the perverted ritualistic services he made me submit to, calling them customary in their country for all foreign citizens. I swear to you, Harold, I will never ever go overseas again. Ever. I’m staying right here. Here. With the nicest people in the world. Like you, Harold. I don’t know how, but somehow I will make all this up to you. I know I owe you a ‘reward peek’ and i’m good for it, Harold, I promise. But, right now, I’m so humiliated by those men doing what they did to me. And it all started with them unbuttoning me for a peek; and then doing way more than just peeking, well you understand, don’t you Harold? And, well, a peek really wouldn’t do you much good anyway. You see, there’s something else I haven’t told you. You’ve been such a dear; and clearly not at all deserving of this, but... my necklace and your key was taken away too by those bastards! I hate this...”

“...But don’t you worry; we’ll figure something out, Harold. I promise you.”

***
The End.