Hooker

After finishing my second tour of her body, I touched her and she nearly leapt off the bed. It was time. I mounted her. Rachel didn’t make a lot of noise, but she struggled and thrashed mightily. When finally she subsided, I rolled off and untied her.

“Worth the wait?” I inquired.

“Yes,” was all she said, still somewhat out of breath.

In the morning, I removed Rachel’s stockings and led her into the shower.

“Aren’t you going to take this collar off?”

“No, you’ll wear it the entire time you’re here.”

“But, it’ll get wet.”

“If it gets wet, it gets wet.”

After our shower, I dried Rachel off and gave her another towel for her hair, then went down to the living room to retrieve her underwear.

“So, what are we doing today?” she wanted to know.

“First, you’re going to fix us breakfast, then we’re going to your house for some fresh clothes, then we’re going out to lunch. After lunch, we’ll wander around a bit, then return here where you’ll await my pleasure.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means you’ll have to wait to find out.”

“I think I’ll risk it.” By this time she had her panties and stockings back on and started on her bra.

“Hold it,” I told her, “don’t put on anything else. I want you to prepare and serve breakfast as you are.”

“What about shoes?”

“You can wear shoes if you wish.”

“But...alright.”

I could tell Rachel wasn’t thrilled with this idea, but she went along with it anyway. This was what I wanted. There was no point to her obedience if I only asked her to do things she liked.

I sat at the small table in the breakfast nook and Rachel served me pancakes and eggs. She went back to the kitchen and returned with her own plate, then turned to go and get a chair, since I was occupying the only one at the table.

“Wait,” I told her. I got up and pulled her to me, kissed her, then turned her about and pulled her arms behind her and bound her wrists with a length of rope.

“How am I supposed to eat?”

“I’m going to feed you. Now, kneel right here.”

Rachel knelt next to me where I indicated and I fed her, bite by bite. She was even less thrilled with this turn of events, but again did as I required.

After breakfast, I sent her up to get dressed, then we headed for her house. “Aren’t you going to take this collar off before we go out?”

“No. I told you you would wear it all weekend. The only way it gets removed early is if you tell me you want to leave.”

“But what if someone sees me in it?”

“If it gets wet, it gets wet.”

“Huh...oh.”

I was a bit worried that she might decide to leave. The overall package seemed agreeable and she liked that I had the day all planned, but there were all these prickles that rendered the package thornier than she had anticipated. Once again, she chose to go along.

When we got to her house, she changed into some fresh clothes, then I helped her pick out some things for tonight and tomorrow. She was a bit understocked on intimate apparel, but that was something that could be rectified once we determined if this relationship was going anywhere. She packed the stuff into a small overnight bag and we left. As we got in my car, I noticed a woman sitting in a car across the street. I had the same reflexes as everyone else in the neighborhood and usually paid attention to who was hanging around. Since it was a woman, I didn’t consider her a threat. She seemed attractive. If I hadn’t been with someone, I’d have given her a second glance. I think Rachel was embarrassed about her collar and kept her eyes down, so she didn’t notice.

We had lunch at a restaurant north of the river. I chose the location because it was a neighborhood neither of us frequented. Although I’d chosen to take Rachel out in public in her collar, I didn’t want to encounter anyone either of us knew.

Rachel wore her hair down, so the collar was only visible from the front and she kept her head down so that hardly anyone noticed it. The waitress noticed, however. She gaped openly and Rachel turned red in embarrassment. Her name was Jacqui and it seemed to me that Jacqui came by to fill the water glasses rather more often than necessary. Each time she did, she stared at Rachel’s collar again and Rachel turned red again. I paused to wonder why it was that I found Rachel’s embarrassment such a turn on. I had no answer, but there was no doubt how it affected me. When it came time to leave, I was going to have to be careful that I didn’t embarrass myself when I stood up.

I left Jacqui an extra large tip in appreciation for the extra entertainment she had provided. I also wanted Jacqui to remember me, although I had a feeling she would remember me just fine without the additional reminder. Such people occasionally came in handy.

As we walked back out to the car, I suggested we check out some of the small art galleries that were popping up in the old industrial districts. This would be something that was interesting to both of us and also a place where Rachel’s collar would attract minimal attention.

“I think we need to go back to your house.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I need to fix your little problem.”

Is it that obvious?”

“Quite.”

Once inside the house, I tied Rachel’s hands behind her and carried her upstairs. I got us undressed, tossed her on the bed and landed on top of her. This was exactly the sort of quickie I had objected to last night, but everything has it’s place. It wasn’t like there hadn’t been some buildup to our current condition. I noted that Rachel’s embarrassment at the restaurant had had the same effect on her that it had had on me. I found her reaction to it even more curious than my own.

I untied Rachel and we drifted off to sleep.

I awoke and looked at the clock. It was going on six PM. We had slept most of the afternoon. It was just as well. Rachel was in for a long night.

I showered and dressed, then woke Rachel and told her it was time to dress for dinner. While she was getting ready, I called to check on the dinner. I had made arrangements for it to be delivered about seven. The restaurant assured me everything was on schedule.

I told Rachel that dinner was a surprise and that after she was dressed, she was to remain in the bedroom until I came for her. I went downstairs and threw a tablecloth on the dining room table, then set two places. I set out the wine and the dishes we would need, then sat down to wait. I had been sitting less than a minute when the doorbell rang. The delivery guy helped me get the stuff on the table, then I tipped him and sent him on. It looked delicious.

I returned upstairs for Rachel.

Rachel was looking delicious in her own rite. She had had one rather elegant gown in her wardrobe which I had insisted she bring along to wear for dinner. She wore black evening shoes with ankle straps and her collar substituted very nicely for a necklace. She had her hair up with a strand of faux (I assumed) pearls woven in and matching pearl earrings. I had wanted her to wear gloves, but she didn’t own any. She wasn’t to wear any other jewelry, since I had some accessories of my own with which she would be adorned.

I pulled her to me and kissed her, then sat her down and locked black leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles.

“What are those for?”

“You’ll find them more comfortable than rope or handcuffs.”

“Oh.”

I took Rachel’s hand and she stood. Pulling her arms behind her, I locked her wrist cuffs together, then knelt and joined her ankle cuffs by a little over a foot of chain. “One more thing,” I told her and snapped the end of a black leather leash onto her collar, then led her off to dinner.

I suppose it probably helps if you share my tastes, but the sight of Rachel descending the grand staircase in her gown, collared and leashed, her hands bound behind her, is one of the erotic images I will carry to my grave. I wish I had had the forethought to have my camera ready, although I suppose Rachel herself wouldn’t be thrilled about having her picture taken in this condition.

The candles lit the dining room softly as I removed Rachel’s leash and unlocked her wrists, locking them again in front. I seated her at the table and served her supper and poured her wine.

Rachel was having shrimp while I was having prime rib. I watched her as she ate with her wrists locked only a couple of inches apart. She picked up her glass and held it in both hands as she sipped her wine, gazing at me over the top of it with a look that seemed to combine both need and mild reproach. It drove me wild.

We spoke very little over dinner. I think Rachel was contemplating both her current condition and whatever was to come next. I was doing exactly the same thing.

“Are we having dessert?” Rachel asked as we neared the end of the meal.

“Yes, we are. You’re going to have dessert on your knees.”

“Not again.”

Rachel thought it was going to be a repeat of the way I’d fed her breakfast, but that wasn’t quite what I had in mind. For my part, I hadn’t planned to move things along quite this quickly, but I was in even worse shape than I’d been at lunch and Rachel was going to have to do something about it.

I got up and helped Rachel out of her seat, then drew my chair toward her. “Kneel,” I told her and gently pressed down on her shoulders. I sat down in front of her and unzipped my fly.

“Bob, I’ve never done this before.”

“Then it’s time you learned. We can’t have you going out on the streets as unskilled labor, especially if you intend charging a thousand dollars.”

“Pimp.”

I took Rachel’s head in my hands and guided her mouth to my cock. Once I was in her mouth, she went to work without hesitation and I wasn’t sure I believed her claim of innocence.

It reminded me of another dessert I had had in this house, although this experience was very different from that other one. That one made me think of an overly rich chocolate mousse, whereas Rachel was more of a peaches and cream type.

I locked Rachel’s hands behind her again and led her out into the main hall. “Wait here,” I told her, “and don’t speak again until I say it’s okay.” I went upstairs and pocketed a gag and a few other items I thought would come in handy. When I returned, Rachel was standing as I had left her.

Just as I returned to Rachel, a loud beeping noise came from the back hall.

“What’s that?” Rachel wanted to know.

“It’s the motion detector on the front porch.”

“You mean somebody’s out there?”

She was terrified that someone would see her bound and leashed. “It’s probably not anybody. The wind sometimes sets it off,” I told her, but there was no wind tonight. “I’ll go check. You stay put.”

I went to the front door, opened it and stuck my head out. I didn’t see anyone, but I did see a car about half way down the block I didn’t recognize. It might have just been someone visiting the neighbors, but the car reminded me of the one I’d seen across from Rachel’s house in the morning.

I closed the door and bumped into Rachel as I turned.

“Ow!” she said as I stepped on her foot.

“Rachel, didn’t I tell you to stay put? I almost knocked you down.”

“Who’s out there?” she wanted to know.

“I didn’t see anyone, but if it will make you happy, I’ll go out and check, but first I’m going to put you someplace so I know where you are.” I seized her leash and led her to the door of the hall closet. “Inside,” I told her, “kneel”.

Rachel knelt and I tied her leash around the doorknob so that there wasn’t enough slack for her to stand, then closed the door. She would now stay put until I returned.

I grabbed my flashlight and cordless phone and went out on the porch. I punched 911 on the keypad, so that all I would have to do would be to punch ‘talk’ to connect. I walked around the house, flashing the light around. If what I thought was going on was indeed going on, that should be sufficient to scare her off. When I got back around to the front door, I went in again.

I returned to Rachel, unwound her leash, and let her out of the closet.

“Did you see anyone?”

“No, I didn’t. And now we need to deal with your transgressions.”

“Like...what?”

I was pleased by the note of apprehension in her voice. “Didn’t I tell you not to speak?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t do either, did you?”

“So...what are you going to do, punish me or something?”

“Yes, I am.”

“How?”

“I’m going to make you draw an envelope.”

“Draw?”

“Select. You’ll see in a minute, but first I’m going to gag you so we won’t have to worry about talking without permission.”

“But...”

“Rachel, further talking is not the way to convince me not to gag you.” Rachel hesitated a moment as I held the gag to her lips, then accepted the gag.

“Wait here, and this time, don’t move.” I went upstairs and retrieved a shoe box I’d prepared in anticipation of tonight. While I was there, I looked out the second floor window. The car I had seen earlier was gone. I went back downstairs.

I set the shoe box on the side table and unlocked Rachel’s hands from behind her. I locked them together in front, then held out the shoe box. It contained about three dozen envelopes.

“Choose an envelope,” I told her.

Rachel hesitantly pulled an envelope from the middle of the pack.

“Open it and read the card inside, then hand it to me.” She did so. I looked at the card.

Stand in the Corner

You will stand with your nose pressed

against the wall for one hour.

I was glad she had drawn this card, since I’d been wanting to try this out. I had gotten the idea from a drawing I had once seen. It pictured a woman standing with her nose against the wall and her hands tied behind her. She was holding a sheet of paper against the wall with her nose, and a wooden dowel was balanced across two bottles in front of her ankles, so that she couldn’t move her feet closer to the wall without knocking it off. Something was written on the paper, but I no longer knew what.

I did know what Rachel was going to be holding against the wall. I selected another envelope from the box and then went to the kitchen and returned with two beer bottles and a dowel. I set the bottles about a foot and a half out from the wall and balanced the dowel across the top of them, then led Rachel over to stand in front of the dowel. I locked her wrists behind her again.

I held the envelope up to the wall and told her, “Rachel, for the next hour, you are to hold this envelope against the wall with your nose. If either the envelope or the dowel fall, we open the envelope.”

I put my hand against the back of her head, and Rachel leaned forward and pinned the envelope with her nose. I held it low enough that she couldn’t use her forehead to hold it. I let go of the envelope and it remained in place. I lit a candle and turned out the hall lights, then went up and sat on the landing to watch Rachel’s ordeal. I had a good view, looking down at her from half way up the stairs. Since I was behind her, she couldn’t see me.

Rachel remained motionless for nearly five minutes, then she began shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She had her forehead against the wall and was using it to support the weight of her upper body leaning forward, but since she had to keep her nose pressed against the wall, she was unable to support the weight with the top of her forehead as she wished.

After ten minutes, she was squirming around quite a bit, trying to find relief from the strain her position imposed on her body. She tried spreading her feet wider, to the length of her ankle chain, but to do that, she had to back even farther away from the wall to avoid knocking over the bottles. This put even more strain on her forehead and she returned to her original position. Next she tried lifting one foot, then the other. It was while she was doing this that she knocked the dowel off the bottles. I could hear her squeak of alarm through the gag as her shoe bumped one of the bottles. She tried to look down to see if the dowel had fallen, and in doing so lost the envelope.

Rachel wasn’t exactly sure what to do at this point. She looked about in confusion, then after a moment, returned her nose to the wall. I left her there another few minutes, then returned to her side. She started to straighten up, but I told her to remain as she was.

After picking up the envelope, I told Rachel to stand up straight, then snapped the leash onto her collar and led her over to the side table where the candle was. I opened the envelope and withdrew the card, laying it on the table next to the candle.

Spanking

You are to be securely bound and soundly spanked.

Rachel read the card and began making noises through her gag which were, of course, unintelligible. I shushed her and told her that shortly she would have both opportunity and reason to complain, but for now I required her silence. She complied. I could tell she wanted to say something, but, being gagged, there was not much point trying.

I led Rachel upstairs and got her undressed and tied down without any major resistance on her part. I had tied her in my favorite spanking position--face down with her wrists locked behind her and her ankles bound to the footboard a couple of feet apart, feet hanging over.

She shivered as I ran my fingers up the back of her thigh. I removed her gag.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I can, because I want to, because it turns me on, because it turns you on.”

“So how do you get the idea I’m turned on by being spanked?”

“Because you’re here. You’d rather be here getting spanked than be home alone.”

“You think that because I haven’t left that I want to be spanked?”

“That’s not what I said. You don’t want to be spanked, but given a choice between a spanking and being alone, you’ll take the spanking.”

“Oh...” What I had said was true, but Rachel was embarrassed to have what she considered her weakness exposed like this.

“Besides,” I continued, running my hand up her leg, “it’s not like it doesn’t excite you.”

“So, you think I’m turned on by being beaten?”

“Of course not. It frightens you. You don’t want me to spank you. What excites you is that I’m going to do it anyway.”

“Just...just don’t spank me too hard, okay?”

“I won’t spank you harder than you can stand, but I’m going to spank you harder than you would like.”

I picked up the ruler that was laying on the night stand and began. I started on her butt and worked my way down her thighs and back again. By this time, Rachel was moaning, thrashing from side to side, and begging me to stop. I ran my finger up the inside of her thigh to see if it was time to stop. It was.

After untying her ankles, I flipped Rachel onto her back and fucked her. She gasped and wrapped her legs around me. She was one of the least vocal women I’d ever had sex with.

“You’ve never been spanked before, have you?”

“No.”

“It makes you angry, doesn’t it?” I asked.

“Well...”

“It makes you angry that being spanked excites you.”

“Yes...Well, not really angry so much as embarrassed, but...I guess it does make me a little angry, too, only I’m not angry with you, I’m angry with myself for being turned on by it.”

“I told you, it’s not the spanking that turns you on. What excites you is being spanked despite your wishes.”

“That’s worse.”

“Perhaps, but you’re still here.”

“I’m tied up.”

The next morning, after we showered, we got dressed. This time, I fixed breakfast. Rachel sat at the table, and after I served her food, I unlocked her wrists so she could eat. Gretchen was due home in the early afternoon, so I would have to take Rachel home soon.

“I can’t believe I’ve done this,” Rachel said.

“And what have you done?”

“I just spent the weekend as a sex slave.”

“Yes, you did.”

After breakfast, I took Rachel home. I made her wear her collar home and removed it in her living room.