DISCLAIMER: all characters are fictitious, over the age of consent, this is only fantasy... ETCETERA!
I own a few homes in the suburbs, renting out to "young professionals". Not the straight-out-of-college type. So much simpler once they've grown out of the really annoying frat mindset and started to become a little more responsible. Of course, I also like it when they are female, single and, ideally, frustrated and kinky. The scenes I get to record on my cameras are so much more interesting and amusing.
From time-to-time, I really hit the jackpot. Take, for example, Laura Winter. She's a few months in on a 12-month rental of one of my new-build townhomes, that are so popular in the suburbs now. The developer gets to bundle so many homes in per acre, built quickly, cheaply and easily. That makes for a nice, luxurious rental for me. Good rent, good tenants. Such as lonely, kinky, Ms Winter.
Now I know she isn't exactly model material. Her nice, neat rental forms tell me that she was 32 last November, that she works for a large CPA downtown and that she moved across the country for the job. While showing her round the home, I learned that she is 5'3" tall, with dark brown hair kept fairly short, wears glasses and classic, if rather dull, taste in skirts and blouses for work. Although I do rather like her habit of wearing expensive silk scarves. To be fair, obviously, I'm no model either. I won't be seeing the right side of 50 again, 6' tall, hair
short and greying and, I must admit, I could really do with some fitness myself, although most would say I'm in decent shape for my age. Divorced some years ago. She told me privately that it was something to do with my "cruelty" - but that would have been hard to bring up in court, as she had been fairly perverted herself, with profiles on the old Alt.com.
From my cameras, I can add that she has slightly large breasts for her petite frame. Some would even say, perhaps unkindly, that they are a little saggy and she could really tone up a little more, but she isn't into the whole gym-rat thing. Doesn't drink much either. She has a few friends round from time to time, for a meal, but she's too shy to be very sociable, by the looks of it. She's only been in the city for 6 months and seems to be struggling to make a lot of friends. I could almost feel a little sorry for her. The cameras also show me that she loves to dress up, quite deliciously, in girdles, corsets, stockings and high heels. Along with a little self-bondage, nipple clamps, gags, blindfolds - and then fucking herself senseless with a dildo until she almost sobs. And then journaling it all, in her "secret" journal.
Of course, it isn't really a very "secret" journal when I know where she keeps it, let myself in while she's hard at work in her little cubicle downtown and read her latest entries. The general theme always comes back to the fact that she doesn't know how to find someone to do all that to her, worries that she wouldn't be able to tell anyone anyway - and is scared of how she might feel if they abused her as much as her fantasies demand. I think it may be time for me to indulge in some impromptu counselling for the poor girl.
So, one convenient Friday evening, I watched as she gave in to her desires. Dressed in a long, black pantie-girdle, added a brand new pair of stockings and a pair of black shoes with 3" heels, before finishing the outfit with a pair of black, opera-length gloves. She even admired herself in the mirror, briefly. Lying down on the bed, she strapped her legs at ankles and knees, clipping the ankle-strap to a chain attached to the bottom of the bed. Her usual vibrating dildo was pushed deep into her pussy, under the pantie-girdle, which was certainly tight enough to keep it in place. She re-checked the ice-timer release, holding the key to her handcuffs, that was dangling from the light fitting over the bed. Satisfied, she applied one scarf as a simple cleave gag and a second as a tight blindfold over her eyes. Breathing heavily, she reached behind herself, clicking her handcuffs on to one wrist, then the other. Now she was trapped until the ice melted and dropped the key for her.
My months of watching her told me that I had at least an hour, possibly even two, before the ice released her. Normally, I would quietly enjoy the show, often stroking myself off as she writhed and moaned. But not this evening. This evening, it was time to enjoy her far more personally.
I started by calling her cellphone and had to control myself, not chuckle, as I watched her tense suddenly, as I left the message to tell her that I needed to come over and check the gas meter. She wouldn't be able to hear the message being left, but it amused me, anyway. I picked up my previously-prepared "go bag" and jumped in the car for the 15-minute drive over there. Everything else was already in the basement behind the 2-car garage, that I kept locked away from tenants.
On arriving, I quickly checked on her via the phone app. Still happily enjoying herself. She tensed as I clicked the garage door opener. She would barely hear it, two floors up, thinking she was imagining it, but the excitement and fear tweaking at her. I drove my car in to the garage, closed the garage door and opened up the basement at the back. It only took a few minutes to check everything was suitably ready, before letting myself back out the garage and walking up the steps to the front door.
I was watching her on the phone app as I rang the doorbell. After all, I am a considerate landlord and I shouldn't just barge in. She tensed suddenly, trying to sit up, making some interesting noises, frozen there. I rang the doorbell again and I could see her chest heavy as she breathed hard, both from her exertions and the sudden fear. I rang it a third time - then used my key to unlock the door. She must have heard it, as she was suddenly frantic on camera.
I wandered around, making no attempt to be quiet - even called out, once again being the considerate landlord. Looking at the camera image, she was frozen - perhaps trying to be as quiet as possible, praying that she wouldn't be found. I walked up the stairs to the second floor, put the phone away and opened her bedroom door. She just made some little noises, presumably trying to process the total "oh fuck" moment as she was "discovered".
I put my bag down, walked over to the bed and gently untied the scarf blindfold, watching her blink as her eyes became accustomed to the light again. As her now addled brain registered who was standing in front of her, her eyes wide, with many emotions, she started to babble into the cleave gag. I smiled (no, not a "nice, kindly, let me help you out of your predicament" smile), sat down beside her reached out and clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Ms Winter, be quiet." She continued babbling, so I leaned in close, then shouted in her face "BE QUIET." Wide-eyed, she jolted even more upright, breathing hard - and silently.
"Thank you. Now, Ms Winter, bitches with nasty, dirty little habits like tying themselves up and fucking themselves should really be more careful." I reached under the bed and unclipped her journal from it's "secret" hiding place and dropped it on to the bed beside her. "Shouldn't they? Bitch."
She was clearly petrified. She had no idea what to make of this situation and was frozen to the spot. Not to mention helpless.
"Ms Winter, I've read all of your journal. I've watched you on my own private cameras for months. It is all recorded and copied. If I released any of it, you'd be absolutely beyond fucked. But I'm a kind man - so I'm going to make your dreams come true." I smiled at the confusion showing on her face, then picked up the journal. "And I'm going to make some of your fantasies come true. Some of the worst, darkest, sickest ones you've been writing down in your little journal for me to find."
I gripped her by the hair and held her face close to mine to watch this all sink in. I watched as she look confused, eyes glancing at the journal, back to me, then back to the journal - finally back to me as she realized just what she'd been writing. As the panic set in, making frantic noises, starting to shake her head, starting to writhe and try and break free. I put the journal down again, holding her very tightly by the hair - and slapped her hard across the face. She was still panicking, so I slapped her again, then a third time for good measure.
This probably didn't calm her down, but at least it brought her under control. "Good girl." I smiled. "Now we can start to enjoy each other. Or, rather, I can enjoy abusing you - and you can learn to enjoy being abused."
I reached down and opened my bag, pulling out some half-inch-wide leather straps. Reaching behind her, the first one went twice around her arms just above the elbows, deliberately hauled brutally tight, so her elbows were pulled together. Good to see she was supple enough for that. A second strap went around the top end of her forearms, just as tightly. Now I reached up and grabbed the key to her handcuffs, dangled it in front of her face, chuckling, watching the defeated look in her eyes, before removing her own handcuffs and replacing them with a third, equally tight strap at her wrists.
Free to move around, I got up and went into her bathroom, rummaging in her laundry basket. Then to her closet, to pull out a couple more scarves from their drawer. Expensive ones. That smelled delightfully of her and her scent. Plus, from the "hidden selection" at the back of the walk-in, the black 5" heels that locked on. From what I'd seen, she really only wore these for her self-bondage sessions, as she could barely walk in them.
Back at the bed, I unclipped her ankles from the foot of the bed and swung her legs over the side, to the floor. I pulled off the shoes she was wearing, replacing them with the 5" stilettos, locking them and pocketing the little key. I undid the two rather pathetic little straps around her legs and pulled her to her feet. Holding her by the hair, I pulled her over in front of her full-length mirror, where she teetered on the precarious heels.
"You should watch this, Ms Winter. I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy it, even if you pretend not to. And don't do anything stupid - in those heels you'll just fall over and hurt yourself. And you'll annoy me, which really would NOT be a good idea." I said, as I stroked her reddened cheek to emphasize the point. "But first, a more realistic gag."
I untied the scarf cleaving her lips, draping it over her shoulder, holding my finger to her lips as she opened her mouth and got as far as a whimpered "Please..." before going silent, trembling. She swallowed hard as I held up a pair of her panties, retrieved from her laundry. I did like her taste in silky, high-waist panties - especially as she seemed to have a small mouth. I reached into my bag and pulled out a small plastic pot, popped the lid off.
"I know these panties would be a bit dry and hard to handle, so I'm going to help you out." I passed the pot under her nose and she pulled back as she smelled the pungent spunk in it. "That's about 2 weeks of me jerking off to videos of you, cunt, so there's plenty there." I tipped the contents out onto her panties, grabbed her by the hair and jerked her head back. As she gasped, it was simple enough to jam the panties into her sweet little mouth, although it took some work to force all the cloth in. Grabbing the scarf, it was simple enough to cleave it between her lips and teeth, forcing the cum-soaked panties deep into her mouth, quickly muffling the noises she was making, before pushing her head forward and tying the scarf off very tightly behind her head.
Tottering on her heels, now heavily gagged for the first time in her life, already tasting my cum and with her arms painfully welded together behind her, there was nothing she could do to prevent or protest the rest of what was coming. Pulling items from my bag, they were quickly put in place. First, an inflatable butt-plug went in place, fairly easily as it was deflated. 4 self-adhesive electric pads were placed - one pair each side of her labia, the other pair each side of her clit. The home-made thumb-tack pad, seemed to frighten her, as I reached into her pantie-girdle and placed it at the base of the butt-plug, laying it along her perineum and over her cunt lips. Pulling her pantie-girdle back into place and pulling it straight she winced.
"It doesn't hurt so much like that, does it Ms Winter?" She slowly shook her head. "Don't worry, cunt, it will soon" I said and her eyes widened a little more. I picked up my bag, throwing the 2 extra scarves into it, taking hold of her by the back of the neck. "Now you get to see what I keep in that locked basement downstairs."
It took a few minutes of cajoling and teetering on those heels to get her into the garage, facing the closed basement door. She was trembling deliciously, eyes closed. I cupped her cunt with my hand. "Don't tell me your cunt is all wet and trembling, Ms Winter?" I said, and her eyes jerked open, looking at me, looking away. I opened the heavy door and pushed her into sparse, concrete basement. Towards the back wall was a metal post, with a bar stool up against it and a table to one side. Shelves and cupboards on both side walls. I propelled her over to the bar stool and turned her so her back was to it. Reaching between her legs, I plugged cables in to the protruding connections for each electric pad attached to her genitals. Pulling lengths of twine from the table, I bound her legs tightly together at thighs, above and below the knees and at the ankles, all pulled very tight and cinched to be even tighter. From the look in her eyes and the noises from behind the cum-soaked gag, this was already edging over from delicious bondage to pain for the poor, helpless Ms Winter.
The next item from the table was another thumb-tack pad, the same shape as the top of the bar stool. I showed it to her, then placed it on top of the stool. Glancing from it to me with wide eyes, I could guess that the muffled, wet gag noises were now pleading. Smiling I lifted her onto the bar stool, her tightly-bound arms between her and the pole and the pump for the inflatable butt plug below (and out of reach) of her hands. The noises managed to get a little louder and she found the bar across the front of the stool, managing to take some of her weight with her feet. I used more twine then to crush her arms to the pole behind her at wrists and upper arms. This was followed with more twine used to bind the base of her breasts as tightly as possible, given the already-strict position of her arms, so that her somewhat saggy boobs now looked beautifully tight and bulbous. Now there were tears in her eyes. To finish the job I used more twine, tied to her ankles, pulling her feet off the bar, so all her weight now rested on the thumb-tacks on the seat - and between her legs. She was shaking, trembling, but trying not to move.
"Yes, it will hurt much more if you move, Ms Winter." I picked up a leather strap, held it up, then hit her breasts hard with it, left and right. This time the wet, gurgling noises from behind the gag were screams - and a little choking, I noticed happily. She fought to settle down again and, as she settled, eyes pleading, I did it again, watching her jerk hard, the pain catching her breasts heavily - and all the tacks under her grinding into her. I knew they weren't sharp enough to break (much) skin, but she didn't care by now. They were just pain. I smiled, reached behind her and started to pump up the plug in her ass. 4 pumps should be all it would take to make it start to hurt, so she got 4 pumps - and I was rewarded with more piteous noises and tears.
I let her settle as best as she could and started to tease her nipples gently, erotically. The pain was edging into pleasure for her, it seemed, although barely. At this point I added a weighted, sharp-toothed clamp to each nipple, which brought her very clearly back over into pain. The tears were rolling gently as she fought so hard to force herself to be still. It was a joy to watch as she fought for control, at moments failing, squirming and firing off all the pain points, muffled, gurgling screams leaking around the gag.
I watched for whole minutes, watching the delightful show, then glanced at my watch. "I'm going to leave you now, get myself some dinner, take a break. I'll be back later. Or maybe in the morning. Whatever takes my fancy. Talking of which..." I unzipped my pants, pulled out my cock and stroked it. "You've been very good at getting me going, Ms Winter, so you get a reward." It only took a few strokes, so great was my enjoyment of the bound bitch, before I spurted cum on her, right into her chest and stomach. I chuckled at the edge of humiliation in her eyes - and the fact that, if I didn't know better, her shuddering might just even be an orgasm.
I shook out the two silk scarves I'd brought from her closet, smiled and draped them over her head. "One layer of silk would restrict your breathing just a little, Ms Winter, so two will restrict it a little more." I picked up a wide leather posture collar from the table, placing it around her neck, pushing her jaw up, squeezing her neck, adding another little level of choking on the gag. I carefully pulled the two scarves tight around her face, before buckling the collar tightly behind her neck, her features outlined by the silk. I used a final strap, over the top of the posture collar, to hold her back to the post by her neck.
Knowing that all she could see was random light through the scarves, I quietly plugged the cables from her cunt lips and clit to the box on the table. Selecting a randomized program for each set of electrodes, I turned to her and stroked her face.
"If you can manage to keep still, Ms Winter, the pain may be bearable, so try and keep VERY still. I'm going to leave you now, Ms Winter. And when I do choose to come back, you aren't going to be Ms Winter any more. You will be my obedient, groveling little cunt. The only thought that had better ever enter your mind is how you can give me pleasure. And you'd better fucking well remember that my pleasure includes your pain. Cunt."
The wet whimpering noises from behind the silk, the helpless fluttering of the fingers, told me that she'd heard the message. It didn't really matter to me, as she was going to be my fucktoy and paincunt whatever she thought. I reached behind her and pumped the butt-plug up a couple more times, watching and listening as she felt like her ass was being shredded. As she tried to settle, I grinned and pumped it twice more, eliciting agonized gurgles and choking noises.
"So now you suffer, cunt." I said, turning on the electric controls before she could settle back down. The first few minutes were programmed to start with random mid-scale jolts to her labia and clit, before the long program kicked in, switching her all over the scale for the next few hours. As she screamed into the gag, jerking agonizingly against her bonds as the current sliced through her, I watched the weights swing wildly on her nipples.
I walked to the door, not bothering to say anything else, as I knew she wouldn't be able to process it past the pain, past the desperate and utterly hopeless attempts to keep still, trying to still the agony in her nipples, ass and between her legs. I glanced at the cameras in the ceiling, recording her disintegration for my future enjoyment, then turned off the lights, shut and locked the door, leaving her writhing and crying in complete darkness.