Erotica by RedBud
- This is another story from the vault – vintage 2009. Enjoy.
Janice tried not to run to the front door. Her heart was racing. She felt faint. She couldn’t breathe. She glanced back at her husband and barely concealed her excited smile. She straightened her tube top and turned the doorknob.
The visitor was tall and stood bolt upright. His hair was black and balding. He wore a closely trimmed beard and moustache and carried a heavy black leather bag. He glanced at her for an instant, not even making eye contact, then walked into her home without a word or second glance.
He entered the living room as though it were his house. Her husband stood, offered him his hand but the visitor walked past him as though he didn’t exist. Janice and Jeff glanced at each other. Their visitor inspected the livingroom. He inspected the windows, then the kitchen, slowly and methodically. He looked into their backyard then wordlessly walked into their bedrooms.
Jeff shrugged his shoulders.
Janice walked into the livingroom, then into the hallway where she could peer into their bedroom. The visitor was opening the closet, their drawers, then the bedside drawers. Janice felt light headed again. The visitor found it and more. He pulled out the lubricants and threw them on the bed. Some he threw into the trash. He found her dildo, a butterfly, cuffs and blindfold. He was leaving the bedroom.
She stood aside.
He didn’t look at her but he had taken her dildo. He tossed it on the couch.
We’ve heard so much about you,” she said timidly.
The visitor held up a finger as if he had been struck. She quieted. The visitor turned to her husband. “Name?” he asked.
Jeff,” her husband answered.
The visitor sighed, visibly agitated. “Not yours!” he almost shouted. “I said: Name!”
“Why is she standing?”
She watched her husband struggle for words.
“This is unacceptable.”
“I’m sorry,” Jeff fumbled. “I didn’t…”
“Why is it looking at me?” he almost shouted. “Why is it following me around? It’s my business what I do and look at! Why are its clothes on? ”
Janice quickly averted her eyes and quickly lowered herself to her knees, there at the corner of the hall and livingroom, her heart pounding. Her feelings were hurt. She didn’t want to admit it. She stared at the floor. She hid her eyes.
Look, if you had told…”
“What?” the visitor snapped.
“If you had…”
“What?” he asked again.
“Did I address you?”
“Then why are you talking to me?”
Jeff shut his mouth. Janice focused on the white tile floor of their living room. The visitor didn’t need to say it. His voice was dripping with contempt.
There was a long silence. His back remained to her. “Take her clothes and fold…”
Jeff quickly stood but the visitor stopped him with a sharp hand motion.
Take her clothes and neatly fold them. Put them neatly in the top dresser drawer.” He waited then motioned for Jeff to continue. His voice had been gentler this time. He had said her, not it.
She continued to stare at the floor and she stayed on her knees as Jeff pulled off her tube skirt. He unhooked her bra. “Cut it off,” she heard the visitor say when he reached for her panties. “They’re ugly.” Jeff hurried to the kitchen and returned with scissors. She felt the cold metal against her hips – both sides. The panties tugged at her lips and clit as he pulled them. There was wetness. She bit her lip. Then Jeff was gone. She heard the visitor open the leather bag but didn’t dare look up.
Jeff returned. No one spoke. Silence. She stared at the floor, hands on knees.
She thought about all the stories and images that her brought her to this – kneeling, naked, gaze averted.
What was he doing?
Was he staring at her?
Her knees were beginning to ache against the hard floor and her thighs and back were tiring.
She felt feminine. She felt vulnerable. She wanted to hear his voice. Anything. Images and words flooded her mind. But the images were what returned most forcefully.
She opened her knees and hesitantly raised her hands to the back of her neck. She continued to gaze downward. She straightened, back arched, breasts vulnerable and her breath deepened. A lightness and tautness warmed her belly and her sex. Then she heard him move. Finally. He was approaching her. She widened her thighs and stretched her elbows backward.
Her heart rate quieted. The hair on the back of her neck rose but she didn’t raise her eyes. Thoughts raced through her gut. A man she had only known for 15 minutes was walking around her as she waited naked and submissive. She was shaking.
She felt tapping at the small of her back. She arched.
She felt the tip of the same switch at the insides of her thighs. The taps were gentle, encouraging. She widened her thighs. She felt her pussy open wetly. Then he was tapping on first one nipple, then the other. Her lips parted and she pushed her breasts forward. Her nipples were hardening and swelling. He continued to tap them, one at a time, and she could feel her neck and breasts flush. She was shaking, but not with fear.
Very good,” he said. Quietly. Gently. A new thought almost made her blush with its intensity. She would do anything he asked. She would do anything for him – anything at all. She wanted his praise. She wanted him to praise her body, to say that he rarely trained such a young wife. She wanted him to praise her slender hips and legs, her narrow waist, the rose tattoo at the small of her back. She wanted to please him. She felt him lift her long brown hair from the back, then felt a collar fastened around her slender neck.
She felt a tug.
She started to stand and she cried out in pain!
The sting on her ass quickly sent her to her knees. Her pussy spasmed.
He tugged again.
This time she followed him on her knees.
He stopped. He walked behind her and gently tapped the insides of her thighs. She widened her stance. He tugged again and she followed, thighs open, her opening wet and swollen.
He led her into the bathroom.
“What’s this?” He asked, his voice monotone.
Jeff heard the snap of the switch from the living room and heard his wife gasp and whimper. “The bathroom, SIR!.”
He wanted to rush in and force the man out, to comfort his young wife. But he was also ashamed. His cock was stiff and pressing against his slacks. He wanted to touch himself but was afraid of the man, taller and so much older than himself. He had played these games before, when his wife was his girlfriend, but never like this. He had always been in control.
He heard the switch again and heard his wife’s strangled cry and panting gasp.
“It’s dirty, Sir!”
“It’s disgusting,” he heard the man say. “You live in filth. It’s degrading to me.” He heard her cry out again. This time she moaned. He had to see! He rose from the couch, quietly. He approached the hallway but stayed in the livingroom. His wife was on her knees, spread wide. Her hands were crossed behind her back and her chin was almost on the floor. Her swollen nipples were just touching the floor – both of them. She was looking behind the toilet. Her pussy was wetly opened between the dark line of her ass. The dark opening to her belly was up and ready, facing him.
He watched the man switch her ass. It seemed light to him, but she jumped and squirmed thrusting her pussy behind her as though the emptiness of her belly were unbearable. He had never seen his wife like this.
The man tugged on her collar and Jeff quickly shuffled back to his couch. He saw her return to the hall. Her thin hands remained at the small of her back, crossed at the wrist. She remained bent over, knees parted, shuffling on her knees. The man led her from room to room. Each time it was the same. He was disgusted. They lived in filth. Clothes needed to be washed, folded and put away. Shoes were out. The floor was dusty. He heard the snap of the switch. “Huhnn!” He heard his young wife moan and heard her voice tremble: “Thank you, Sir,”
Janice followed Sir out of the last room. Her knees were sore and her ass burned.
Sir was tugging her back to the couch where her husband sat. He stopped her at the couch and Sir tossed the couch blanket on the floor. “Knees on the blanket,” he said quietly, gently. He tapped her ass with the switch and she quickly leaned forward, her head almost between her husband’s knees. She saw Jeff take out his cock without looking. She felt his hand in his hair, then felt her husband freeze.
Where are you?” Sir almost shouted.
“I asked you a question!” Sir repeated. “Where are you?”
“On the couch?” Jeff answered timidly.
“What am I doing?” Sir demanded, still almost shouting.
“You don’t know?”
“You don’t know?”
Janice gazed at the floor. She didn’t move.
“What am I?” Sir asked her husband.
“What? What? What?” Sir asked repeatedly, impatiently.
“Her what?” Sir asked again.
“Her master,” Jeff blurted.
And what does that make her?” he asked, shouting again.
“Say it again. What?”
“Your slave,” her husband answered.
“Yours what?” he shouted.
“Yours, Sir!” Jeff removed has hand from her hair as though he’d been burned.
Janice smiled to herself, then quickly tried to regain her composure.
“She’s mine,” said Sir. “She belongs to me. When I am present, don’t you ever touch her without my permission.”
Janice felt her master’s switch under her chin, lifting her. “Look at your husband,” he said flatly. “Don’t look away. Look at his eyes.”
She did, still bent over. Her lips parted and she stifled a groan as her vibrating dildo, the dildo Sir had thrown on the couch, entered her opening and pushed into her belly. Sir tapped her under her breasts until she sat upright on the blanket, knees apart, wrists crossed at the small of her back and tits forward. Her ass sat on her heels and the base of the dildo was on the floor between her stretched thighs, the rest trapped upright inside her belly.
She has a little present for you,” Sir said to her husband.
“Huhn!” She cried out when Sir’s switch stung her ass. She raised herself. Sir switched her ass again and she lowered herself. She rose. She fell. She felt a spasm. Sir switched her again and she moved more quickly. Her husband stroked his cock as he watched. They gazed into each other’s eyes. Her master spoke flatly, as though his conversation were nothing more than a casual aside.
I expect the house neatly cleaned.”
She hiccuped as her belly gripped the dildo again. He switched her ass as he spoke.
“I will expect the front door to be open. If it’s closed, there are other females only too eager to accept my training.”
He had accepted her! She tried not to blink or close her eyes, but any expression was fading from her face as the spasms in her belly came closer and closer together. She continued to rise and fall on the vibrating dildo, her pace quickening. He was tapping her belly, softly and quickly.
If I find dirt or dust on the floor, you will lick it clean. I expect your clothes to be cleaned, folded and neatly put away. Not on you!” She gasped as he switched her tits. Then grunted as she slid down onto the dildo, driving it deeply into her belly.
Tomorrow I shall not be so permissive nor as good humored.”
And then there was no turning back. Sir switched her ass and her tit once more. She rose and fell on the dildo, her gaze locked on her husband’s, her belly tightened and tightened on the dildo piercing it. And then her small, slender body spasmed and convulsed, snapping her head forward again and again. Her husband groaned and cum spurted from his cock, landing in his lap. Her stare never moved from her husband’s has the last of her orgasm burned through her thighs and nipples.
Sir had stopped switching her.
She shuddered with small and fading aftergasms.
“Very good,” he said gently. He tapped her between her shoulder blades and she leaned forward. “Clean him,” he said simply. “I don’t like messes.” She took her husband’s cock in her mouth, tasting and licking clean the slick salty syrup of his orgasm.
Then Sir was putting his switch away.
Janice sat back on her heels and locked her fingers behind her neck. Cum slipped from her bottom lip. Sir was standing at her left shoulder. She could smell him. She could smell the musk of his penis beneath his leather chaps. She felt light headed again, the way she had felt when he first walked into their house. It was his penis that she had wanted. Sir pulled back her head and she straightened. She still gazed at her husband. He softly stroked his cock.
I don’t have a name for you yet,” Sir said flatly. “I haven’t decided.”
Janice didn’t speak.
He was leaving.
She didn’t dare move until he had left the house.
November 17 2010