World on a StringbyCatalingus2005©
"Calves first, honey. Then the glutes."
I held back a disappointed sigh, and lapped at her legs in the way I'd been taught. Just as it had been with Tania, it was really a fairly simple and easily done task. I just let my mind drift as my tongue moved up towards her buttocks, and before I knew it, it was over.
Strangely, she had already reapplied her perfume, and it help to relax me as I worked.
I suppose it was nerves, but I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I got home. Chuck was waiting, nervous and asking if I was okay, how was it, can he do anything. I asked him to not talk about it, mostly I wanted to sleep.
And I did. He lay down on my bed, and I draped myself over him. He started to talk, but I couldn't say about what because I was asleep before the end of the first sentence.
My schedule was for two days on, one off. Apparently, that coincided with Mrs. Carlisle's own schedule. On the days she took off, she must have had other forms of entertainment.
The second day began much the same as the first. I was dropped off in her office, and told that it would be a few minutes. I spent the time straightening up, not sure if that's what was expected, and then suddenly she burst through the door. Once again, she was dictating to the student...Miranda, I remembered...and ignored me as I dropped to my knees and she passed by me.
Miranda walked by as well, her fingers a blur of movement on the keypad. She smiled at something Mrs. Carlisle said (I realized I'd missed it, I wasn't listening closely enough, and I chided myself to be careful), and I saw braces on her teeth. Mrs. Carlisle stopped talking, and I realized that the dictation was over.
"Well?" She said, suddenly sternly. I hoped Miranda wasn't in trouble as I looked over.
She was staring at me, with annoyance.
"I...I'm sorry?" Shit. What had I missed?
Her annoyance became anger, and she marched over to where I knelt. She stood over me, glaring down. "Miranda, dear," she said without looking away, "leave the flash on my desk and head back to class."
"Yes, ma'am," Miranda hurried to comply.
"And Miranda...don't forget about tomorrow."
"I..I won't," she stammered as she hurried out of the room. I had a moment to remember that tomorrow was supposed to be a day off, and then she struck me. Hard.
I found myself on my back looking up at her. My cheek burned.
"I am so sorry," I begged, "it really..."
"Shut up. It's over now. It needs to never happen again." She stretched, her arms up over her head, and then she walked over to her desk. "Now come to me," she dropped her skirt to the floor before sitting down. "I aim to give you a little more of a taste than you got yesterday."
I crawled over with a sinking feeling that this day was going to be far less pleasant than the first. She draped one leg up on the desk, and fairly pulled my head toward her. It wasn't until a long time later that she was fully sated. For nearly an hour, she gave me commands and moved my head to where she wanted it. It wasn't just oral sex. She had me kissing and nibbling at her inner thigh, planting soft kisses on her stomach. She was teaching me how to make love to her. To worship.
Afterwards, we attended a few meetings, and she used the restroom. For some reason, this second time I had to clean her disgusted me far more than the first. The shock of it was gone, and now I had only myself to blame for having to use my mouth.
Then, instead of a game of tennis, we went back to her office. "There's a man coming in today who owns some apartment complexes I want. You may be of some help in the negotiation process." I started at that, and she chuckled down at me. "Right now," she said, "your husband is at the movie theater. He won't leave there in the same health he entered if you disappoint me." My breath caught in my throat. "On the other hand," she shrugged, "maybe if you do your job well we can give him access to a few more entertaining novelties around the compound."
I knelt beside the desk, and she sat down. Then, she pushed a button and asked to see her next appointment.
"A Mr. Welch to see you," the receptionist said. Why was that name familiar?
In through the big door, in a nice suit and with slicked back hair, came Daniel Welch. Hair on the back of my neck stood up, with fear and rage. The last time I'd seen him, he'd been our landlord and was threatening to have us arrested unless I agreed to have sex with him. Now, my would-be rapist was standing cool and collected while I knelt at my mistress's side like a lap dog. He shook her hand, sat down, and his gaze fell upon me.
I begged, silently, for some mercy. Let him not recognize me. Let him pass over me and pay no attention.
But his eyes widened. And he spoke my name, as a question.
"So you two know each other, then?" Mrs. Carlisle smiled. I wondered how innocent all of this really was.
"Oh, I know her," he fairly grunted as he shifted his large frame. "Bitch snuck out without paying two months back rent."
"I see," Mrs. Carlisle's smile grew wider. "So you mean to say that rent is difficult to collect, on these properties?"
"I...what? Oh, no," he backtracked quickly, still too late, "it's just a few pieces of garbage here and there. Look where it got her, eh?" He laughed, a quick bark.
"You find my companionship to be punishment, then?" She cocked her head. I enjoyed seeing him squirm again.
"No, no, of course not. I..."
"Let's talk about your price," she interrupted. "I feel that it is much too high."
But whatever else Daniel Welch was an opportunist, and a selfish prick. "If it's too high, then we're done. I'm not nearly in as big a hurry to sell, I think, as you are to buy."
"I was in a much bigger hurry to buy a moment ago, before you admitted all of the trouble the property has, financially."
He clenched a fist. "There's no fucking trouble! None! It's just stupid bitches like this one think they can get away. They think that I ain't got troubles of my own, bills of my own. If I had my way, she'd have to work off the unpaid rent like a good whore!"
"Drop your price by 15%, and you can have sex with her," Mrs. Carlisle tossed it out casually, and my blood ran cold. No, she couldn't be doing this. I wouldn't...I...
Chuck. They were watching Chuck. Shit.
I resigned myself, as Daniel Welch smiled a gruesome smile down at me, to doing what I must to save my husband.
"I like this deal," he grinned.
Suddenly, Mrs. Carlisle had contracts in front of him. "There are conditions, but reasonable. No damage to my property, you understand, and you must do it here. Now."
"I want to watch," she shrugged, and his grin grew wider.
"I like your style," he signed far too quickly. I wondered what else the contract stated.
He didn't care, though. He stood up immediately and started undoing his pants.
"She can do that for you, you know," Mrs. Carlisle was staring at me, watching the pain on my expression, with an odd kind of sympathy.
"Yeah," he laughed, and snapped his fingers. "Bitch, take off your clothes. I want to see you first, then I'll let you see what I have for you."
Crying silently, I stood and removed my clothes. He beckoned me over, and manhandled one breast. Then he twisted the nipple sharply, and I cried out.
"No damage," Mrs. Carlisle reminded gently.
"There won't be any," he assured, and pressed down on my shoulders so that I had to kneel. "Have a look," he commanded.
I reached up and undid his belt and zipper, and lowered his pants to the ground. Reaching out from him was a veiny member that could only be described as unclean looking. It was of average length, but alarmingly thick. A wart stuck out of one side. Hanging below, his testicles were large and tight against his scrotum. I could see the skin around them rolling softly as they churned, eager to release. He seemed proud of it.
"Impressive, I know," he smiled down at me. "Now stop admiring and suck."
I reached one hand up, now crying outright, and gripped him at the base. My fingers didn't touch as they wrapped around as much of him as they could. I gave one soft tug, and then took him into my mouth.
I suddenly had a great appreciation for Mrs. Carlisle. There was no intoxicating scent, here, just the dank sense that he didn't wash himself often. He leaked precum, and it was far more unpleasant than Mrs. Carlisle's juices ever were. He moaned and allowed me to explore him with my mouth before beginning to fuck my face in earnest.
I gagged when he went too deep, but he didn't stop. I'm sure if I were to vomit, he would simply continue at it and feel all the more proud of himself, so I fought the urge. It was easier this way, anyways. If he was pistoning at my face, I wasn't doing the work. I was a nonactor in this little horrid drama.
Then he pulled back. "Lay down." Then he pushed me and I was on my back before him. He kicked open my legs and gave his penis a playful pull. "I'm going to enjoy this."
"No damage," Mrs. Carlisle repeated, and I saw that she was handing him a jar of lube.
"Yeah, sure," he muttered, greasing his pole before kneeling down between my open legs. I had a sudden irrational fear of his fat gut pressing down on the baby inside my belly, and then he was in me.
It burned, but not horrifically so. He began thrusting into me.
"Pregnant bitches always lube up real good," he muttered, and then he looked down at me. "Kiss me," he said. And then he leaned in, and we were kissing as he raped me. I cried openly the entire time, feeling my tears roll down my face. Finally, he tensed and I felt his thick member pulsing inside me. This son of a bitch was cuming inside my body.
He lay there, atop me, for a moment, and then rolled off. I lay crying as he dressed, thanked Mrs. Carlisle casually for the business, and then strolled towards the door.
"Nice to see you, bitch," he called to me as he reached for the handle.
"Mr. Welch, wait," Mrs. Carlisle called out.
"You put on a good show. I liked it."
"Thanks," he grinned. This was making his day. "She's got a bod on her."
"Yes. I want to watch it again. You should come by this time on Friday."
"You want...hey, I guess I can do that." He sneered down at me, and I cried even harder.
"We'll see you then," she waved him off and then tossed something at me. It was a bag with two pills in it. "Take these, silly girl, and stop crying. They will help with the upset. Now compose yourself and go home.
The pills did help. I didn't ever ask why. But they seemed to affect my mood, and for that I was grateful. I didn't tell Chuck about any of what had happened, and I was actually in a great mood the entire next day. It was my day off, and Mrs. Carlisle had seen to it that we had access to the first rate movie theater and a small artificial park on the top floor. We walked, talked, and even made love. I didn't even think about Daniel Welch.
From there, things fell in to a sick routine. Two days of slavery and degradation, one day of freedom to enjoy. Plus, every Sunday was off. The baby in my belly grew larger, my husband and I grew closer and stronger, and I became more and more able to put the events of the day from my mind when I returned home. To Chuck's credit, he never pushed for information.
More and more, though, I found myself able to get lost in the smell of Mrs. Carlisle's perfume. It was addicting. I secretly had begun to actually look forward to the time we spent together, with the light-headed blurriness of it becoming more intense with every session. It affected me. I found myself more eager to please, and all distain had gone from the process of licking her body. It was almost like a disturbing high that left my sensations tingly and pleasant...even when she let Daniel Welch fuck me.
And he did, every Friday. Even if it was my day off, I was expected to be in the office for his appointment. Mrs. Carlisle never tired of watching him use my body. The third time he'd arrived, she'd offered to show him a little trick. She spritzed some of her perfume on his lower stomach before we began, and sure enough I found the act of fellating him far less despicable. I almost enjoyed it.
The difference must have shown in my actions, because he laughed approvingly and asked about it. Mrs. Carlisle just shrugged, and then said, "Watch."
She sprayed him again, right there in front of my bobbing face, and suddenly the entire experience was intensified. My mind was unable to focus, or discern anything other than that it thought the organ and man before me were the most wonderfully perfect in all the world. I attacked with even greater vigor, unable to think straight and loving every minute of this blowjob. Mrs. Carlisle leaned forward, leaning her weight on my head so that I was pushed down completely on his member, inches of it in my throat, and whispered in his ear, "She could be yours."
None of this made any sense to me. I was beyond any thinking. The world was a haze and I was torn between the loving contentedness I felt impaled on his unit and the need to breathe.
"What about you?" He whispered back.
"Oh, she'll always be mine, now. But with this," she held up the bottle, "a pet can be claimed by two masters. This dose will be less, so you'll be second to me. But imagine..." she stood back up but continued to hold my head against his belly. I made no effort to fight, although I was near to passing out. "...the bitch will want it." She'd hit the nail on the head. He positively roared with delight.
"Do it," he said. She leaned in, holding my head still, and sprayed one last time. Then she lifted me up just enough to clear my air passage.
"Breathe," she whispered in my ear. I did.
My entire world dissolved, and reformed. I didn't understand any of it, but continued to worship the phallus in my mouth. Nothing else mattered to me, it was god and I was a zealot.
It didn't take long, then. He grunted, and came. Somewhere, a small remaining part of me was disgusted to hear myself moan as his sperm splashed in my mouth. He always released seemingly-impossible amounts, but when he ejaculated in my mouth this time I worked religiously to swallow it all.
After that, I still hated him. Probably even more, now, because I found myself a very eager accomplice in his raping of me. It was like an alcoholic who hates to drink, hates themselves for drinking, and can't stop anyway. I would be there, kneeling and sucking his cock, or letting him fuck me over and over again, thanking him and getting off on it. Once, I even told him I loved him while he took me from behind. It was mortifying, horrific, and in its own way true.
Mrs. Carlisle was the center of my world, and Daniel Welch was the lone moon around that center. I still loved my husband, in a way I could never love these people from whom I had as much hate as I did forced affection, but he was struggling with the complete lack of sexual desire I felt now. The only time my body even cared for sex was when I was performing for my masters.
I felt like a monster...maybe even felt like I was worse than them. I was the one who actively, eagerly betrayed my husband. When Daniel would cum inside me it was like heaven. I even started pretending, as he pistoned his thick, hideous cock in and out of me, that the baby was his.
The baby. At least we had the baby, my husband and I. It was one of the few things we truly shared, now. Mrs. Carlisle gave us access to the best medical help, and we knew everything was going fine. My body became more awkward, heavy and pained, but even at the 7 month mark I was still able to perform my duties with gusto.
And that's when things took another step in the wrong direction.
"I think, for her sake, you ought not come around any more until the baby drops."
Mrs. Carlisle had said it, to Daniel, while he stood naked in her office. I was behind him, eagerly tonguing his asshole like it was the happiest moment of my life. Of course, it wasn't, and I was both grossed out and ashamed, but that dual personality was there underneath, somewhere. I was wet, near orgasm. I could barely stand it.
"Any reason?" He asked.
"I don't want this baby put to any unneeded risk, Daniel. And it'll be good for her to have a break."
"After the baby is born?"
"Oh, absolutely you will be back. I still enjoy these shows very much."
He was silent above me, for a moment. None of the words in the conversation stayed with me very long...her perfume clung to my brain too tightly...but it registered that he wouldn't be hear for some time.
I moaned in sorrow. Or relief. Which was it? Was it both?
"What," he finally said, "is going on here? The perfume is what does it, right?"
She laughed. "You're taking part in an experiment, my friend. The perfume indeed alters their minds. It takes a very, very long time to work. She still very truly hates us, even as she worships us. Someday," she clicked her tongue, "there will be only love in her for us."
"And her baby?"
"Not your concern."
"Fair enough. Why doesn't it work on me?"
"It could, I suppose, but it has to be tailor made. We took a brain scan during her training, and adapted the product to her unique personality. We could do the same with you, but...well...I needed a second test subject to see if she could handle having two masters at once. You were convenient."
"Interesting. Why is someone as important as you doing this sort of field work?"
"The obvious benefits. This is not a product for selling. The potential is enormous. She is the third of my toys."
"They don't always handle it well. Some of them kill themselves before they get too deep. Her baby and husband made her a little more...willing."
"Will you be keeping her? When it's done?"
"Oh, I have every intention of gathering quite the harem of admirers. She will not be a part of that. You will keep her, as payment for your help and silence on this matter."
By this point my mind was fogging more and more with the effect of the chemical, and each word appeared to my mind individually, not part of a larger sentence. All I really knew was that, when he pushed himself into my ass, he fucked me harder and louder than he ever had before.
Three weeks went by in routine. With my stomach getting bigger, Mrs. Carlisle found it easier simply to have me lay down in the mornings, and she would ride my face to her pleasure. We never played tennis, and she seemed to grow increasingly vicious in her use of me. She used my fellatious skills to close more deals, as well as for a holiday bonus for the janitorial staff. I spent an entire day there, on my knees in the break room, ingesting pulse after pulse of their semen. Afterwards she laughed and told me all that protein would be good for my baby. I was ashamed when I avoided my husband's kisses, that night.
I worried she was cross with me. She paced often, sometimes seeming impatient.
But Fridays came and went, with no Daniel. I had no recollection of any conversation, the perfume tainting my thoughts, and it made me sullen and sulky to miss out on his visits. Christ, I hated him, but I also yearned for him and felt disgust and loathing when I would see my husband's smaller, less vile penis. It was like a sick game of low self-esteem. I waged an inner war of hatred, and finally broke.
Daniel was probably surprised, when I showed up at his door. It was Sunday, my day off to be with my husband, and I was more than 8 months pregnant. He stood there, looking at me shiver in the rain, and I fought between begging and killing him. Finally, a single word is all I managed.
"Please," I whispered. A smile spread across his face, and he reached out to grip the back of my neck.
He pulled me to him, and I thought he wanted to kiss me. Instead, he yanked my head back so he was hovering over me. "Open your mouth," he said, and I did.