Rating
Chapter I The New Neighbor
Carol Sizemore couldn't think of anything her part-time neighbor would want to meet with her about. She had known that someone had purchased the house next door six months earlier, but hadn't seen or met anyone associated with it since. She had been satisfied to see the lawn care company keeping it well maintained every Wednesday, and didn't much care whether anyone ever lived there.
It was odd to have a complete stranger call her and insist that they meet on short notice, and the woman's demeanor was unsettling. It was as though she had no doubt that Carol would agree, like she was taking Carol for granted. Carol resented the woman's attitude but didn't object to visiting with her later that evening. She didn't want to be rude by refusing the invitation.
When Carol asked what was so important that they had to meet so quickly, the woman, who identified herself as "Karen, your new neighbor", breezily replied that, "I'm just sure you will want to take a look at a few things I have for you."
Carol had trouble concentrating on anything for the rest of the afternoon. Not that she had a lot of brainwork to occupy her time. There was only a week of school left where she taught high school math at the Naval Base in Mayport, Florida. She finally put her mind at ease by concluding that the woman was probably an Avon lady with a bad sales technique.
After a few laps in the pool Carol spoke briefly on the phone with her mother in Ohio, then showered and dressed for the visit with her new neighbor. Carol liked being on time and ended up waiting ten minutes before strolling across the lawns to ring her neighbor's doorbell precisely at six o'clock.
She was a little put off that she was made to wait a couple of long minutes before her neighbor finally opened the door. Carol was a forgiving person and gave everyone the benefit of the doubt in almost every circumstance.
Karen was a bit taller than her, but seemed friendly enough. They were about the same age, Carol judged. Karen looked to be a professional of some sort. Carol thought of her as a lawyer for some reason. It might have had to do with the fact that Karen looked very attractive and comfortable in the business suit she was wearing. Carol assumed she had important plans for later in the evening, and she felt a little embarrassed to be so underdressed in her white shorts and red tank top.
Karen welcomed her into the home and motioned for her to proceed into the living room, off to the left. She was surprised at how wonderfully appointed the home was. An interior designer had obviously been give a liberal amount of freedom in furnishing and decorating the place.
Carol sat rather nervously in an easy chair that seemed to be the place where Karen wanted her to be. There was a brown envelope on the table between her and the chair that Karen sat in. Karen crossed her legs and seemed to study Carol for a few seconds before speaking; "I understand you're a school teacher?"
"Um, yes.", Carol replied, wondering how she knew anything about her. "I teach high school on the base." She started to ask, "What about you?", but was cut off.
"And you're only twenty eight. How do you stay in such good shape?" Karen inquired rather intently, tossing her hair lightly over a shoulder.
Carol was ill at ease already. How could this stranger know her age and profession? There must be some innocent explanation. "Oh. I, ah. Thank you! I swim a lot, and run and do a little weight training too."
Karen was now looking Carol over in an entirely different way. It was as though she was surveying her for flaws. Carol felt creepy in the pregnant silence before Karen spoke again. "Carol, I wonder if you wouldn't mind standing up for me? I'm very interested in hearing more about your workout program"...
Carol was lost. She started to stand, then thought better of it. "Who is she to order me around?", she thought. Feeling foolish and not knowing whether to sit back down or to stand all the way up, Carol hesitated.
Karen kept talking as though nothing unusual were occurring at all. "Do you swim everyday?"
Carol slowly straightened until she was fully upright. "I, yes. Most everyday."
Karen was resting her chin in her hand, studiously observing her guest. "You have good tone. Turn around. You look like a swimmer, Carol."
Carol half formed the thought that she needed to get a handle on what was happening, but started to follow instructions before she could consider how best to react to circumstances she had never faced before. She thought the comment was a compliment, but before she could say anything else her neighbor spoke again.
"You could pass for twenty, Carol. Your butt is nice and firm and your legs...those legs are quite nice.", Karen mentioned without enthusiasm. Carol thought she had nothing on her attractive neighbor, who looked like she could have been a model. She struggled to make all of this fit into some strange sales pitch for some sort of Mary Kay cream or something, but couldn't. She was very uncomfortable, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible warmth spreading within her that was alarming. This was all wrong and none of it was right or normal. Whatever it was. Her mind was racing. She had to say something.
"Uh. Thanks.", was all she could manage. She was facing away from Karen, not sure what to do. She caught herself in the realization that she was waiting for more instructions. Before she could react, Karen commented that her breasts were of a nice size and appeared youthfully firm as well. Carol was taken aback and drew in a deep breath to respond. Again, Karen spoke first.
"Turn and face me, Carol.", she ordered casually. It was as though she simply expected it to happen. Karen was rising from her chair and folding her arms as Carol turned toward her. Their eyes met. Carol could not match the icy blue gaze that challenged her. She glanced quickly down toward her feet, feeling silly and unsure what to do with her hands. She shook her head, trying to clear the confusion away to regain her self control.
"Take the envelope from the table, Carol."
Carol looked down and to the left, seeing the manila envelope she had noticed earlier. She stepped forward and took it, trying to sort out in her mind how to break out of the bizarre situation she found herself in.
"There are things in that envelope that are very important to you right now. Take it home and open it immediately." Karen's voice was controlled and somewhat formal, as though she were instructing someone beneath her intellect how to perform a simple task.
Carol hesitated, not sure if she should leave. The frustration boiled over before she even realized it was coming. She looked directly at Karen and angrily shouted, "Is it okay if I FUCKING LEAVE?" as tears formed in her eyes. She stalked quickly toward the door and out into the yard without waiting for a reply as her sobbing swelled into an uncontrollable avalanche of complicated emotions.
Karen gently closed the door behind her with a wry smile on her lips. "That went well.", she thought. She strode through the kitchen and into her enclosed sunroom, taking the cordless phone off the wall and carrying it with her. She kicked off her heels and tossed her jacket on a side table. The pastel yellow leather couch was one of her favorite places to relax. She hadn't been home for long, but it sure did feel like home compared to the places she'd been the last nine months.
Chapter II Blackmailed
It seemed to take forever for Carol to make her way across the yard to her front door. She felt like a blubbering fool and had not gained any better control over her emotions by the time she made it home and had gotten to the liquor cabinet. She didn't drink except for rare social occasions, but whatever had just happened required something to help her sort things out. Plus, she had the envelope to contend with. What could be in it?
She poured herself a scotch with shaking hands and drank it down quickly, then poured another. She went into the guest bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She thought of the neighbor she had never seen before and how she had so quickly and completely controlled her, even if for a very brief time. Carol thought that she could have prevented it had she been prepared. She was simply caught unaware. It wasn't a big deal, she told herself. That woman is some kind of cop or something and she was just toying with me for whatever sick reason. I'm home now. That won't happen again. "Turn around, Carol.", she mocked out loud. She cringed, wondering if Megan had left yet. She quickly made sure her daughter was gone, then took the envelope and the second glass of scotch with her into the den. The sofa there was always a place of comfort to her.
Carol took a deep breath, then a sip of the scotch. She wondered why she was so wet. She was repulsed by the thought that a woman had made her horny. It had to be something other than that. She blushed deeply, then tried to shake the thought off.
With trembling fingers she slowly tore open the end of the envelope and pulled the contents out. A slim microrecorder fell out onto the floor as she placed the thin stack of papers on the table in front of her. The first document consisted of printed mailing labels with the names and addresses of her mother, her husband who was away on a military deployment, her minister, the principle of the school where she taught, several of her fellow teachers at the school, the chairwoman of the base noncommissioned officer's wives club, and even the commanding officer of the base military police.
She nervously slid the page of labels aside to look down on an eight by ten glossy photograph of her giving oral sex to Ralph Petersen, her secret lover when her husband was gone on military deployments. It had to have been taken at the motel where they had met just last week, but...Carol's heart felt like it sank into a bottomless pit. The implications of the photograph in combination with the labels hit her so hard that she simply froze. Thoughts of what would happen to her life if the picture were mailed to the people on the list started swirling through her mind in a nonsensical vortex of the most distressing impressions imaginable.
She turned the photograph over, placing it on top of the labels. The only remaining document was a white sheet of paper with a local phone number on it. Carol knew it would ring next door. She looked down at the microrecorder on the floor and correctly guessed that it contained audio recordings of her and Ralph having sex in the motel room. After listening a portion of the tape, she shut it off and sat in stunned silence.
The scotch was having a numbing effect on her but she needed more. She picked up the glass and drank it slowly. If she worked hard at it, she could come close to thinking through the problem rationally. She was obviously being blackmailed, but for what, she did not know. She had no money or assets that would attract anyone's attention. The audiotape existed to prevent her from being able to claim the picture was somehow faked. As she finished the scotch and began replacing all of the items in the envelope except for the phone number, a sense of overwhelming shame overcame her. If not for her desire for sexual excitement, this wouldn't have happened. It was her fault. All her fault, and she would just have to deal with it the best that she could.
Carol forced herself not to think about how the picture or the recording could have been made. She didn't want to think Ralph was somehow involved. He wouldn't do something like that. But, someone knew, somehow, where they were going to meet and what room it was going to be. She and Ralph were the only ones who had that information. She took a deep breath and went quickly to the kitchen to wash out the glass she had been drinking from. She hated clutter and habitually cleaned or put things away when she was through with them.
She returned to the den, remembering what had happened at her neighbor's house just a few minutes earlier. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she was strangely excited by the memory. Every aspect of it repulsed her totally, yet the heat that was growing between her legs contradicted her emotions and her thoughts.
She gathered the envelope and the paper containing the phone number and took them to the small office her husband had converted from a pantry for her. She sat at the desk and slid the phone over until it was directly in front of her. Taking another deep breath to help regain her composure, she slowly dialed the number that had been provided to her.
Chapter III Karen Takes Control
Karen answered on the fourth ring as though she had no idea who might be calling her. Poor Carol was so weak and confused, she could barely speak.
"What do you WANT from me?", Carol stammered angrily.
"Hmmm.", Karen replied. "Maybe we should start with your phone manners. You may call back when you're ready to act like a big girl."
Click. The line went dead. Carol was stunned. Frantically, she dialed again. After five maddeningly long rings, Karen answered again. "Hello?"
"I, ah, I'm sorry. I mean, about how I spoke. Ah. Could you please tell me what this is, what this is all about?"
"Poor Carol. She grew up to be thirty eight years old and never learned how to be polite on the telephone." Karen replaced the handset on the phone, smiling quietly to herself. This was her kind of fun.
Carol slammed the phone down and quickly made her way to the scotch. Skipping the formality of pouring a glass, she took a long swallow straight out of the bottle. Replacing the cap, she carried the bottle back to where she had been sitting and took a deep breath as the warm glow she had felt earlier between her legs began to intermingle with the numbness caused by the scotch and the anger she was barely managing to control. She sat down and dialed again.
Six rings later, Karen answered calmly. "Hello?"
Carol concentrated on speaking evenly, trying to keep her jumbled emotions beneath the surface for just a few seconds. "Hello. May I speak with Karen, please?"
"Perhaps,", Karen answered, "may I ask who is calling?"
Flabbergasted, Carol took a breath and answered calmly. "Carol?"
"Oh? Carol who?", Karen inquired, tormenting her poor victim and enjoying every minute of the little game she was playing.
"Uh. Carol Sizemore?"
"Oh! Carol! I thought it was you. This is Karen. What can I do for you?" She was quite the actress, sounding as though none of the earlier conversation had taken place.
"Uh. I. You gave me this envelope and I assumed you wanted me to call this number. I mean, what is all this..."
Karen interrrupted, "I don't like it when you call me "you". I would like you to call me "Miss Karen"."
"Why would I call you "Miss Karen"?", Carol shouted into the phone.
Karen hung up and stood, stretching leisurely before ambling to the kitchen for a tall glass of icewater. The phone started ringing almost immediately. She disregarded it as she sipped the water, looking out the kitchen window toward the pool and the beautifully landscaped back yard that surrounded it. This was going to be a fun break, she thought to herself.
After more than thirty rings, Carol had apparently given up. Looking at her watch, Karen anticipated hearing the doorbell ring in less than sixty seconds. She wasn't surprised when it took only thirty seconds for Carol to return to the front door. She was both ringing the doorbell incessantly and pounding on the door. Karen listened, waiting for the surge of anger to play itself out on the doorstep. She couldn't make too much of a scene in the front yard, but Karen could hear her sobbing after a few seconds of futility had passed. The pounding had transformed itself into a polite knock in short order. Karen was pleased. She pulled her heels back on, stood, put her jacket on, thenstrode to the entry foyer and slowly opened the door.
Smiling broadly, she exclaimed, "Why Carol! How nice of you to stop by! Please! Come in!". Carol looked disheveled and worn down. Her nostrils had a cute way of flaring between breaths and her erect nipples were did not go unnoticed. Karen really appreciated her complexion. Her skin was nearly flawless.
Carol stepped into the evil woman's house once more, the memory of the humiliation she had suffered there just a few minutes earlier fresh on her mind. "Have you calmed down a bit, Carol? Or do we need to send you back home for more booze?", Karen asked in an even voice.
How did she know?, Carol thought. Maybe she smelled it on her breath. Carol realized how exhausted she felt. Her life as she knew it was in jeopardy, and she had to find out why. She knew she couldn't do that if she kept behaving aggressively. She could not look Karen directly in the eye without fear of giving herself away, so she looked momentarily at her own feet and replied breathlessly, "No, ah...Miss Karen. I am calm now."
"Very good, Carol. Now, just run back over to your house and retrieve that envelope and bring it to me. You have thirty seconds." Karen glanced at her watch to take note of where the second hand was.
Carol looked at her quizzically, then realized she was serious. Bolting through the open door, she sprinted across the yards to her house and quickly returned with the envelope and it's contents. As she crossed her neigbor's threshold, Karen called out "Twenty seven. Not bad!", and pushed the entry door closed. She took the envelope from Carol's hand and quickly looked inside to make sure all of it's contents were enclosed before tossing it onto a side table.
It was a particularly hot, humid day. Carol's exertion, though short in duration, had caused her to begin to sweat profusely. Her nerves were not helping matters any, and she stood, dripping and panting, on Karen's tile floor. She blinked her eyes rapidly as sweat poured into them. Her tank top was clinging to her heaving breasts, and her prominent nipples were pushing through the damp fabric so intently that it seemed they wanted to burst through.
Karen had noticed during the first visit that Carol had been braless, and was delighted now that it had become shamefully obvious. Such a hussy!
Karen circled her prey slowly, studying Carol more closely as the poor thing tried to catch her breath and begin to regain her dignity. It was not to be, though. Karen took who she chose, and dignity was never a concern. She spoke casually, her heels clicking softly on the tile in a perfect rhythym.
"You are to be commended for two things, I think. The first is that you chose to be a whore for the only black United States Marine who was ever named Ralph. The second is that you were so damned sloppy about it that anyone could have easily compromised you."
Carol started to blurt something out, but was slapped hard across her face. She immediately went to pieces and continued sobbing.
Karen looked at the palm of her hand, satisfied that she had actually hurt it on the slut's face. She didn't need to wonder what Carol felt as she watched her collapse to her knees. She continued her circular stroll, delivering her brutal monologue.
"Other than that, you really are a reprehensible, weak, and completely worthless human being, Carol. It must have been a sinful thrill to feel that big black cock sliding in and out of your holes while everyone you knew thought you were being true to them." Karen sighed for effect, then continued. "Talk about betrayal! Just think what would happen if all of your friends, family, and coworkers knew! And the Marine Corps! They'd throw poor Ralphie's career into the toilet so fast he wouldn't know what happened." She paused briefly to ensure that Carol was listening. "Of course, you'd never teach high school again. We know that, don't we slut?"
Carol was stunned but managed to utter a "yes". Karen noted with satisfaction that the anger she knew Carol could conjure up was well buried by now. "Yes? Do I need to slap you again to remind you of your manners Carol?"
Her mind was trailing out over the imaginings of her husband's reaction to her indiscretions. He would drop her like a rock and never look back.
"Uh. Yes, Miss. Uh. Miss Karen."
"I really don't like you, Carol. I especially don't like you dripping on my nice floor like you are. My suggestion is that you ask permission to get a towel to dry it off."
Her mother would just die. Her heart would break and she would just die.
"Miss Karen, may I get a towel and dry this floor off?"
"Hmmm," Karen replied. "I suppose. The guest bathroom is behind you. Get a towel out of the closet."
Carol turned to look behind her, then slowly rose, feeling her knees shaking. She was completely defeated. As she entered the bathroom Karen called out from the foyer, "I just don't think you could move any slower, could you?".
Carol quickened her movements and found a towel. Returning to the immediate presence of her tormenter was frightening. She had always had a fear of being hit or slapped, and practically flinched in anticipation of another strike. She stole a quick glance at Karen and was shocked to be smiled at. It was as unsettling as anything that had happened so far, and she felt the tears well up in her eyes once again. Carol knelt and swirled the towel around a few times until the floor was completely dry.
"Now, ,spread the towel out neatly on the floor and stand on it.", Karen ordered.
Carol followed the instructions, so fearful and so confused. She thought of her life in a shambles. No husband, no career, no lover, nothing. Not even a mother who cared anymore.
Karen began circling again. "You have quite a problem, Carol. You see, I have unique tastes. I also have unique friends who help me to indulge my tastes. I am taking a hiatus from a rather unusual profession. During such times I like to find a few people to toy with to keep me occupiied and to keep my skills sharp. This time, I have taken you, Carol. You belong to me now. I own you. I own you. I will train you, I will use you, and I will abuse you. If, at the end of my little break, I am satisfied with you, well, then you might get your life back. If I am not satisfied with you a number of things could happen. It is conceivable that you could simply disappear, never to be seen again. It is conceivable that you could be shipped off somewhere to lead a quite miserable life. It is conceivable that you could be left here to deal with the ramifications of your sordid past. It's all up to me. Is there any part of this that your little whore brain doesn't understand?"
Carol swallowed. Her lips were dry. "Uh. No, Miss Karen."
Karen stopped directly in front of her. She lifted Carol's chin until she made eye contact. Gazing intently into Carol's deep brown eyes, she whispered, "What's it like to be a piece of property?", then turned toward the entry door. "I'm going to explore my neighbor's old house now, slut. Follow me. Two paces behind, and not a peep out of you."
Carol followed quietly across their front yards, amazed at how well Karen could walk in grass with heels on. Her calves were well defined and her legs were taught and shapely. Carol knew she was in good shape by her posture and the way she carried herself. She wondered as they neared her door how she could be thinking about Karen's legs under such bizarre circumstances.
IV Taking Possession
Karen walked happily through her neighbor's front door as though she owned the place. She turned in time to watch Carol pass through the door and close it behind her. She looked so very pitiful. Like a frightened doe. "Lock it.", Karen ordered.
After Carol turned the latch Karen told her to get a box of garbage bags. While retrieving them from the kitchen Carol poured herself a glass of water and drank it down quickly before taking the bags to Karen. She tried to hand the box to Karen, but she wouldn't take them. After an awkward pause, Karen told her to put the box on the floor.
Karen slid her jacket off and tossed it onto a wingback chair. "Take one bag out and put those nasty, sweaty clothes in it Carol. You may place your shoes over by the door for now."
Carol looked up at her with incredulity. Did she mean? "Uh. You want..."
"I want what I said I want. Are you sure you're educated beyond the third grade?", Karen answered in a sarcastic tone as she folded her arms across her chest.
The tears came quickly again as Carol bent to untie the laces on her canvas tennies. She had to do what she had to do, but there was that odd, contradictory glow beginning to rise from deep within her. It was most similar to how she felt when she was on her knees in front of Ralph, ready to take him into her mouth. She realized she was becoming horny before she even had her shoes off. She felt her nipples hardening and her pussy becoming moist again, and felt so completely repulsed by, and drawn into, the situation at the same time.
She placed her shoes in their assigned spot and stood to push her shorts down while her back was turned to Karen.
"I don't think so, slut. Over here!" Karen was pointing at the floor a short distance in front of her.
Carol padded over to where the finger pointed, never daring to look up. Her tears were flowing freely now. She slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and pushed them down to her ankles, leaving her panties on. She stepped out of them and placed them into the bag she had gotten out of the box. Next she stood up straight and pulled the tank top quickly over her head, placing it in the bag. She covered her breasts as best she could and stood motionless, unable to continue, hoping she would be spared complete nakedness.
Karen's voice was a bit more sympathetic this time. "Isn't my little slut such a shy thing, though?" Karen crouched down onto her haunches to get a good view of Carol's cotton briefs. "Oh, you poor thing. You are simply dripping with excitement! Look at that spot!"
Carol gasped in embarassment and immediately broke down again, sobbing uncontrollably. This was not necessarily rectified by the brutal slap she received, but Karen did have her undivided attention once again, as well as her compliance.
"Put those nasty panties in the bag, Carol.", Karen calmly ordered.
This time, Carol wasted no time stripping them off and stuffing them in the bag. Now she tried to cover her breasts with her right arm and hand and her pussy with her left hand.
Karen sighed heavily. "My patience is being tried, and I know that your stupidity is going to be a problem. Would you like me to give up on you now, Carol?"
"Nnnno, Miss Karen", Carol sobbed as she slowly moved her hands to her sides.
"Good. Now you're naked. You'll be naked a lot in your new life, so get used to it. I'm going to sit down while you fetch me a nice drink and bring me all of your cameras. Don't forget your video camera, Carol."
"Yes, Miss Karen.", Carol replied shakily. "Wha...What would you like to drink?"
"Oh, that's another thing. You have so much to learn. Never use "you" if you are referring to me. Use "Mistress". Let's try that question again now - properly."
"Uh, what would Mistress like to drink?"
"Very good, pet,", Karen said soothingly as she rubbed her calves. "I'd like a single malt scotch."
Carol turned to fulfill her tasks, dwelling on Karen's use of "pet". What did that mean? She was so confused. Her pussy and nipples were still betraying her, and she was grateful to be out of sight if only for a couple of minutes. She went to her bar first and poured the scotch, quickly delivering it to Karen. She wasn't immediately sure where the video camera was and had to do some searching to come up with it. She had no idea why she had been ordered to gather up her cameras, but it didn't really matter. She was in a blur of chaotic thoughts blanketed by that deep and penetrating fear that arises when one's security is in the balance. That woman was frightening, and Carol knew of nothing she could do about it except to do what she was told.
Karen had slipped her heels off and was massaging her feet when her toy returned with her arms full of cameras. Carol was standing in front of her, completely clueless as to what to do. "When you return after completing a task you should quietly announce..." she paused for a sip of scotch. "...the results and present yourself to me. Now go out and come back in correctly."
"Yes, Miss Karen.", Carol replied. She spun and strode quickly out of the room. On her return, she said in a soft voice, "I have my cameras Miss Karen."
"Your slut has brought the cameras Mistress wanted.", Karen replied mockingly.
"Your slut has brought the cameras Mistress wanted.", Carol repeated.
"Put them on the floor.", Karen ordered, gesturing toward the hardwood floor immediately in front of her. "Now present yourself."
Carol didn't know what that meant, so she put her body in a position of attention, as though she were in the military. Karen leaned back in the chair, regarding the still shaking victim of her torments. "Nice try. Whenever you return from a task, and whenever I have no orders for you, you will maintain yourself in a very nice position that enables me to enjoy a good view of you as well as full access."
She leaned forward slowly, resting her elbows on her knees. "First, you'll clasp your hands together by interlacing your fingers at the back of your neck. This will help to elevate your breasts so that I can enjoy those freaky nipples of yours."
Carol blushed heavily as she joined her hands behind her neck.
"Push your elbows back until they are in line with your body. That's it. Now spread your feet at least wide enough to be outside of your elbows. If I dropped a string down from your elbows, it would fall inside of your feet. Good." Karen smiled quickly, pleased but not surprised at how compliant the bitch had become.
Carol's blush seemed never to end, and it took her breath away as it heightened. The stirrings between her legs had grown into outright demands and her nipples had grown harder than she had ever seen them. Her chest began to heave and perspiration formed on her forehead and upper lip. The position was not a strain at all, but being so openly displayed in front of another woman was completely alien to her. Karen had picked up her husband's Polaroid and was checking to see if it had film in it. Carol closed her eyes as Karen focused it on her.
"Eyes up, slut. Smile pretty now." FLASH.
Karen set the Polaroid down as it was spitting out the undeveloped shot and picked up Carol's cheap 35mm automatic camera. It had a bit of film left in it after Carol had used it to photograph her husband's promotion ceremony earlier in the month. She turned it on and waited for the flash to warm up. "This time you'll cup your breasts for me, like you're really proud of them."
Carol moved her hands to do as she was told, cupping each breast from underneath and lifting them up slightly. She wished she could squeeze her nipples as they were begging her for attention. She felt moisure beginning to flood her pussy and knew it would be dripping down her thigh soon. When Karen told her to smile again, she was actually able to form one this time. She thought it might even have had some hint of her hunger in it. She became briefly angry with herself that her body was giving itself over to this sick, sadistic situation she was in. FLASH.
Karen put her through a range of poses, all intended to make her appear to be the wanton slut she was beginning to feel like. The worst one (or was it the best one?) was when she had to turn away on all fours and spread her legs while arching her back. Karen ordered her to "purr like a kitty" as she took the last few pictures to finish out the roll.
While she was still on her hands and knees, Karen stood and told her to crawl to her bedroom. Carol felt herself so far beyond the edge of desire that her fear was beginning to fade. She crawled down the hallway and into the large master bedroom at the far end of the house. Karen picked up the box of garbage bags and followed, leaving her heels and the cameras back at the entry area.
The slut had certainly gotten horny, Karen knew. Her juices had flowed all the way down her inner thighs to the floor. Her entire body was alive with desire, and it was quite an alluring sight to see her skin glistening in the dim light as she crawled slowly down that long hallway. Karen was tempted to make use of her right there on the floor, but she had an agenda and intended to follow it. Self discipline was more than just a family trait, it was also a necessity of her profession.
Karen made her stand and assume the "present" position against a wall next to the dresser. She took a garbage bag out and tossed the box on the bed. She handed the bag to Carol and told her to hold it open, then slid open the first dresser drawer. It was Carol's lingerie drawer, containing dozens of panties and bras. Karen quickly tossed all of the bras into the bag, then began looking at each pair of painties in turn. Some she would discard into the bag and some she piled on top of the dresser. Most of those remaining on the dresser were thongs or bikinis. All of her briefs had been relegated to the bag.
Carol looked on in fearful amazement as the woman went through her most intimate things as though they were mere rags. It was not easy to remain quiet, and she really didn't understand at all why this was happening. She was simply being ignored, or rather, simply being used as a tool to hold the bag open.
Karen went through all of the remaining drawers in quick succession. She dumped all of the slut's husband's clothes out onto the floor in one big heap, but carefully considered everything that belonged to Carol before either piling it on the dresser or putting it in the bag. By the time she was through, Carol's arms were getting tired.
Karen moved quickly across the room and began going through the closet. "Get another bag and come over here.", she said flatly.
Carol placed the bag down next to her husband's clothes and pulled another out of the box on the bed. "May I ask, ah. May I ask Miss Karen a question please?" Her voice was faltering, as though she had absolutely no confidence in anything.
Karen didn't answer. She had heard the question, but wasn't wasting her time. She had no use for questions other than her own.
Carol stepped closer and assumed the same position she had held over by the dresser. She spread her legs the required distance and held the bag out. It was soon being filled with some of her favorite suits, dresses, skirts, pants, blouses, and shirts. Not much was kept, other than what was obviously revealing or tight fitting. By the time Karen was finished with the hanging items, she had filled three bags.
Next she went through all of the shoes in the closet, only keeping some workout and running shoes as well as everything with heels over three inches. She threw the rejects out of the closet onto the floor, telling Carol to put them in a bag. She told Carol to put on a pair of sandals with five inch heels that she had found gathering dust in the corner of the closet. Karen then moved past her while she was still picking up shoes and went to the nightstand beside the bed. Carol's heart filled with dread when she looked up to see Karen opening the nightstand drawer.
"Hmmm. What have we here?", Karen asked gleefully. Without waiting for a reply, she pulled Anne Rice's Beauty Trilogy out of the drawer and tossed all three copies on the bed. "No wonder the little slut has been so compliant", Karen thought, "She's probably always dreamed of something like this happening to her".
Then, she pulled Carol's vibrator and dildo out. The vibrator was a simple, battery operated one of eight or nine inches in length. The dildo, however, was something entirely different. It was a very large, very realistic representation of a well hung black man's penis and balls. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out who you're thinking of with this thing inside you, does it?", Karen asked in what seemed to be a good humor.
Carol was so very humiliated. "No, Miss Karen.", she replied sullenly as she tightened the straps on her "honeymoon" sandals. She quickly finished bagging the shoes and stood unsteadily in the sandals. She placed herself in the "present" position where she stood, having a little trouble keeping her ankles steady.
Karen wouldn't have chosen her if she hadn't been quite attractive to start with, but seeing her in heels reinforced Karen's belief that she could be made into an exceptionally sexy slut. "Go get my scotch and the cameras.", Karen ordered curtly. She smiled with satisfaction as she watched her victim turn and leave the bedroom.
After Carol had delivered the scotch and cameras, Karen ordered her to take all of the filled garbage bags to the garage. She was feeling a bit of a buzz by then, and downed the remainder of the scotch in one gulp. She checked out the video camera and got it ready to film just as Carol was returning from her last trip to the garage. Before Carol could assume her proper position, Karen told her to get a fresh razor, shaving cream, and a damp washcloth out of the master bathroom.
When Carol returned, Karen motioned her toward the bed. Karen moved down so that she was between the dresser and the foot of the bed, and turned the video camera on. "Turn and face me, slut. Good. Now lay back on the bed and lift your knees. That's it, spread them wider. There's no need for any modesty now that we know what a whore you are."
She noted with satisfaction that the slut's blush showed nicely through the digital video camera's viewfinder. She did as she was told, though, and must have known what was to come. Karen zoomed in for a closeup of her face. There was as much unmitigated desire in her expression as there was fear. "Have you ever shaved your pussy, slut?"
Carol's perfect eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Um. No, Miss Karen. Please don't ma..."
"Shut up!", Karen snapped. "You can either sit up for another slap or make that pussy smooth!"
Carol had been growing more accustomed to being naked in front of the woman, but this was such an alien mix of sheer terror and unregulated excitement that she could do nothing but what she was told. She lie on her back now, with her knees held up and widely apart, wantonly displaying her wet pussy for her mistress.
Slowly, Carol spread the shaving cream over her pussy and began shaving.
Still filming, Karen began to question her. "You seem to be surrounded by a few things that came out of your nightstand, Carol. What are they?"
"Oh, God.", Carol thought. "She's not going to make me do this...to talk about my things." But, she found herself responding, if haltingly.
"Um. My...", her face wrinkled up in the cutest way when she realized her mistake. "Sorry. Miss Karen found this slut's books, her vibrator, and her dildo."
"I see. What are the books? What are they about?"
Carol was just beginning to pull the razor up on either side of her pussy, carefully smoothing the skin with her left hand as she shaved with her right. "They are a trilogy about some people who are captured and used as, as sexual slaves, Miss Karen."
"Uh huh. And you have these books in your nightstand because...why?", the interviewer inquired.
"Ah, because they make this slut horny, Miss Karen.", Carol replied, using the washcloth to wipe the razor off before starting in on the well trimmed little triangle that remained above her pussy.
"And are you horny now, slut?"
"Oh, yes, Miss Karen.", Carol breathed heavily.
"What about that big black dildo, slut?"
"It's, ah. It's what I, I mean, it's this slut's dildo. She uses it to fuck herself, Miss Karen."
"Oh? Where do you fuck yourself with that thing, slut?"
"In my pussy, Miss Karen.", Carol sighed, pulling the razor up for the last time before wiping herself dry. She looked down to see herself completely smooth, like the porno stars she and Ralph liked to watch before making love.
"But that's not correct, slut. You don't have a pussy. I have a pussy. You have a cunt. Tell me again where you fuck yourself with that monster."
Carol had placed the razor and washcloth off to the side, but stayed in position out of fear of displeasing Karen one too many times. The thought flashed through her mind that she was thinking less of the ramifications of failing to satisfy Karen than she was of the desire that she was barely able to contain.
"This slut fucks herself in her cunt, Miss Karen."
"I'll just bet you do! I'll bet you'd just love to show me how you can suck on that thing, wouldn't you?" Karen was getting even more turned on playing out her twisted interrogation. The footage would be useful once it was digitally edited. Her new toy's motor was certainly running.
"Uh. Yes, Miss Karen." Carol reached behind her head until she grasped the dildo and raised it up so that it was pointing down toward her mouth. It made for a great closeup as Karen zoomed in. The slut licked her lips several times before bringing the tip of the huge dildo lower toward her mouth.
"Before you begin, I will permit you to touch yourself while you suck it for me, but I do expect to hear plenty of moaning out of you, slut."
Wordlessly, Carol slid her right hand down between her legs and placed her middle finger gently over her clitoris. Her eyes closed softly as she bagan little circular motions with her fingertip as the dildo was brought down into contact with her lips. She opened her lips widely to accommodate it, but could not take in much more than the first three or four inches because it was so thick. She began breathing even more loudly, and groaned deeply as her little bud hardened and pushed outward toward her juice slickened finger.
This was what Karen needed. There was no doubt the slut was operating of her own free will. "Oh, by the way, you are not permitted to cum without permission, so be careful to avoid angering me. slut."
"Yes Miss Karen!", Carol answered a bit too enthusiastically. She was quickly reaching a crecendo, and knew that it was obvious. She was swirling her tongue around the head of the dildo, just the way Ralph loved for her to do to him. Her finger was alternately pushing, circling, and tapping on her rigid clit as her juices flowed freely down onto her satin bedspread. She could think of nothing but how hot she felt and how badly she wanted to cum.
Karen stopped filming with the video camera and reached for the digital still camera. She took two or three quick shots using the flash from across the room before returning to the area at the base of the bed. There was a dark spot on the bedspread underneath the slut. She was possibly the wettest bitch Karen had ever seen. That was not a bad thing. Things seemed to be getting very close, and Karen did not want the slut to cum.
"Stop!", she shouted, loud enough to startle Carol. Carol froze, but reluctantly. She wanted it badly, as badly as she ever had in her life.
"On your feet!", Karen ordered, pointing to the side of the bed.
Carol dropped the dildo and quickly stood, assuming the position as she had been taught. She felt her juices flowing down both inner thighs. The sandals certainly hadn't gotten any more comfortable in the brief time she had been shaving and tormenting herself on the bed.
Karen then told her to get down on her hands and knees and to give her a "little tour" of the house. Karen took it all in as though she were considering buying the place. Carol had few chances to look up at her. When she did, she could see that her neighbor was doing a lot of thinking. With the slut crawling in front of her, Karen looked over every inch of the place, including the spacious two stall garage. She had retrieved a good length of cotton clothesline in the garage and a pair of scissors out of Carol's home office, as well as a bag of spring-type clothespins from the laundry room. Carol loved to hang her laundry out in the fresh air.
Karen directed her onto the deck that adjoined the back of the house and overlooked the back yard. Carol was very nervous and felt so exposed as she crawled through the sliding glass door onto the deck. She had forgotten how oppressively hot it was outside.
It was still a couple of hours before the late spring sunset. Like all of the homes in the area, this one featured a high stucco wall surrounding the well maintained back yard. There was a nice lap pool and a small poolhouse as well as a barbecue area with a built-in brick grill. None of the homes were more than a single story, so the back yards afforded a great deal of privacy and some sense of seclusion, although noise could be a problem at times.
Karen briefly left her on her hands and knees as she quickly strode over to check something out at the poolhouse. Carol watched her walk away with a lust that she had never known for another woman. She considered herself completely straight, but what was going on here was something totally beyond her wildest dreams, or nightmares. She was still fearful, but so very, very horny.
Karen motioned for her to come to the pool house. She crawled down the two stairs and across a portion of lawn quickly enough, she thought. But, Karen grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her mercilessly to her feet. Whispering with an unmistakable intensity, Karen said, "You need some fresh air and some time to think about things. I am going to secure you here until I have a use for you."
With that, she pulled Carol's hands behind her back and expertly bound her wrists together with a length of the clothesline. Out of Carol's view she fashioned a noose and tossed it up over a beam on the pool house's extended roof overhang. She pulled the noose end down over Carol's head and seated it firmly up under her jaw line. She pulled the rope taught and tied it back to itself. She cut a third length of about three feet and wrapped it around the slut's knees, binding them tightly together. She stepped back to admire her work.
Carol looked thoroughly terrified, although her nipples were certainly erect and her juices seemed to be flowing even more freely out of her smooth cunt. She simply didn't know what was happening. She was being held perfectly erect by the rope around her neck and would likely die if she lost her balance and fell off her sandals. She was completely helpless. It was perfect, Karen thought.
Carol watched intently as her captor raised her skirt a bit and reached up under it to tug down her panties. She pushed them down over her knees until they dropped, then stepped out of them. Carol was amazed at how poised she always seemed to be, even when she was stepping out of her panties it was as though it was a perfectly normal circumstance. It was when Miss Karen picked the panties up and began balling them up in her hands that Carol began to understand the implication. She did not fight it, and opened her mouth willingly to allow her mistress to stuff the wet panties deeply enough to effectively gag her. Carol swooned at the wonderful fragrance and taste of this strange, frightening woman who had stolen her from the world.
Karen placed a section of the clothesline between the slut's open lips and pulled the ends tightly around to the back of her neck where she tied them in a knot. This forced her panties even further back and guaranteed that they couldn't be expelled. Next Karen pulled four of the clothespins from the bag and showed them to her victim. The poor, weak school teacher shook her head vigorously when Karen began to playfully squeeze one open and let it snap closed. She did this several times before growing bored of the little game. She gently grazed the long nail on the end of her index finger against the underside of the slut's right nipple. It was the first time she had touched Carol in any way other than slapping her or yanking her hair. Despite the heat, she could see the goosebumps rise on the slut's skin.
"My God,", Karen whispered seductively. "your nipples are simply obscene! Look at how long they are!" Karen was delighted. She had no idea they could have grown any larger.
Carol had always been self conscious of her nipples, particularly when she was fully aroused. They were prominent enough when it was simply cold or she was mildly excited, but Miss Karen was right, they were obscene when completely hard. She had measured them once, and knew them to be a full inch long when they were like this.
All kinds of possibilities were passing through Karen's mind, but for now she simply needed to manipulate the other nipple to an equal length. She had plans for them. She grasped and twisted the left nipple, causing Carol to gasp audibly. It had the desired effect, and she stepped back momentarily to appreciate the long shadow the nipples cast across her new toy's full breasts in the early evening sunlight.
It was a small thrill for Karen to finally place the clothespins on the slut's engorged nipples. Carol winced as each clamped down, but seemed willing to at least try to bear up. Before she got adjusted to the pain, she felt Karen sliding a finger deeply along the cleft of her pussy, scraping across her still rigid clitoris on it's way out. Karen brought the finger to her nose, sniffed lightly, then wiped it off on Carol's lips. She quickly knelt down to clamp a clothespin on each of the slut's outer lips before rising to double check all of her knots to ensure Carol stayed in place until such time as she chose to do something with her.
"I'm going to be busy for a while. I'll check on you periodically. Use this time to concentrate on what kind of a slave you are going to be. I have use for you only so long as you make me happy, and can do without any drama. You are property now, and your life is going to be very different. Get adjusted to it. If you don't think you can, I would suggest you simply fall over and hang yourself. Do you understand me, slut?" Karen looked intently into the teacher's eyes.
Carol nodded slowly, not doubting a single word. She could do nothing but look longingly after Miss Karen as she strode confidently back into the house.