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Amazon dot cum2


Amazon dot cum by Couture email:

(FF, MF, domination, chastity)

Please do not read if under 18 years of age or offended by sexually
explicit stories and situations.

(c) 2002 Couture


"Fuck her," I said as I drove home. I wouldn't get earrings or my nails
done. It was bad enough that she pulled that shit on me at work, but there
was no way I was going to allow her to control my private life. Then I
realized that if I went home, I would have to explain to my husband why I
was home early.

I fingered the ten dollar bill. Maybe I would get my nails done. I
certainly derserved it after all I had been through, but there was no way I
was going to wear trampy big hooped earrings to work tomorrow. No way in

I was a little late getting home after I had my nails done, but that
wasn't unusual and Bill was watching tv in his boxers as usual. A bag of
potato chips and several cans of beer were on the table next to his feet.
He was home all day with nothing to do and the house was in worse shape
than when I left this morning.

I wanted to be mad. I deserved more than this . . . especially after
what I had been through. I should cuss him out, but I needed something.
*I* needed relief.

"What's for dinner hon?" he asked, not bothering to look back at me.

I reached beneath my skirt, shucked off my panties, then put them to my
nose and inhaled my musky aroma. God, I needed a fuck.

I strutted over to his chair, unbuttoning my blouse on the way. "Me," I

I didn't even bother to take off my clothes; I just hiked up my skirt
and sat in his lap. I ground against him until he grew hard. I fished his
cock out of the fly of his drawer and he slipped easily into my pussy and
soon we were making love.

I was his wife again, not some cheap office whore. A pussy girl. At
least I was until I leaned back and raked my nails over his chest.

It was the nails that did it. They made me think about Thandi's demands
and then about Thandi herself. I couldn't help but imagine I was back on
the floor between her legs - pleasuring her. "Can't you do anything
right?" she demanded.

I shook my head to clear the forbidden images from my mind, but I began
to doubt myself. What if Bill didn't enjoy me? Was I a bad lover?

"Is it good for you baby? Am I doing it right?" I asked Bill.

"Oh yeah baby," he grunted. "You're doin' real good."

But he would lie, wouldn't he? Instead of Bill, I saw images of Thandi,
looking down at me, disapprovingly. Yes, he would lie.

I began to bounce harder. The sofa squeaked beneath us.

"How's that baby? Is that better?" I kissed him deeply, tasting the
beer on his breath, and tweaked his nipples through his t-shirt.

"Oh God," he grunted. "Fuck, I'm cumming."

I milked him with my pussy, trying to get myself off. I wasn't even
close and he was rapidly growing softer. I reached beneath me and cupped
my pussy so his cum wouldn't leak out as I stood. I walked pigeon-toed to
the bathroom, looking at the clock on my way. Two minutes had passed.

I locked the door behind me, sat down on the toilet, spread my legs.
Sometimes, if you want something done right you have to do it yourself. I
lightly tweaked my nipples, while my other hand traveled down to my sex.
Two fingers thrust in and out of my cum- filled pussy, while I circled my
clit with my forefinger.

I wish I could say that I was thinking of Bill, but instead my mind was
on her - that coloured bitch Thandi. She was disappointed by my
masturbation technique. Was I really that bad? Had I missed out on
something when I masturbated myself?

I fluttered my manicured nails over my clit and teased my opening with a
finger, instead of my usual around the clit and in and out method. es,
that felt good. I was missing out. I got intimate with my cunt for the
next twenty minutes and experimented. It was something I should have done
ages ago.

I was sitting there, legs spread wide, one hand stretching my pussy wide, the other lightly spanking my moist pink flesh, sending jolts of
pleasure through my body, when suddenly, my reverie was broken by a loud
knocking on the door.

"Did you fall in?" Bill said.

"No." Goddamnit, I thought to myself. "I'll be out in just a minute."
Asshole, you came, didn't you? Give me just a goddamn minute more.

"Well hurry up. I'm hungry."

I tried to finish myself off, but the moment was broken. I took a cold
washcloth and wiped my steaming pussy. I'll be back for you later baby, I
promised my aching sex.


Unfortunately, later came, but my pussy didn't. I spent the rest of the
night cooking and cleaning. I went to bed early for some *alone time*,
nobody but us girls. In five minutes my husband came to bed. His back was
to me, but it was also touching me.

I tried for a few minutes. Gently moving my fingers in tiny circles
around my clit, but it is impossible to satisfy myself without being
discovered. It was difficult to sleep, I kept thinking back to what
happened with my new black boss earlier that day. The thoughts were

I wondered what was wrong with me.


The next morning I dressed and went to work. By the time I walked
through the door, my heart was pumping and my knees were shaking with fear.
The urge to pee was overwhelming, so I stopped at the bathroom before I
went to my desk.

The morning passed without mishap. I was even in a meeting with Thandi
and she ignored me, which I was glad of. Afterwards, I sat at my desk,
slightly relieved that maybe yesterday was the end of our bizarre
relationship. She did say that I didn't do a very good job, so it was
possible that she decided to make someone else her 'Pussy girl'. I smiled
at the thought, looking around the office and wondered who it might be.

Then my phone rang. It was her.

"Tracy, please report to my office."

"Yes, ma-am," I said.

I could hear the blood pound in my ears as I hurried to her office.
Would I be fired? Or would she make me masturbate her again? Or would she
act as if nothing ever happened.

I opened her door and she was sitting there looking more than a little
impatient impatient.

"Close the door and lock it," she said. "When I ask you to report to my
office, I expect you here promptly. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma-am." I hurried straight here, I wanted to argue, but bit my
tongue and locked the door.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked. "You know the procedure."


She shook her head disapprovingly. "Shit, what an incompetent," she
muttered. "Take off your clothes and put them on the desk, then come over
here and *report* to me." The way she said *report*, it left little to the
imagination. She pointed down at her crotch, smirking all the while.

Oh God, she was going to make me do it again. I started to take off my

"I don't have all day, girl," she said.

I hurriedly stripped, until I was naked, with my hands covering the more
private areas.

"Come here," she said. "Don't kneel down yet. I bought you a present."

"Move your hands," she said.

My pussy was inches from her face. I was turned on and humiliated
beyond belief. I prayed she wouldn't discover my aroused condition. She
ignored my distress, and proceeded to put a strange device on me. First,
one hoop went around my waist and a smooth mound went over my crotch.
Another hoop went between my legs and she fastened them all together.

The crotch piece was covered by a form fitting piece of Styrofoam. I
gasped when she removed it. The silver mound looked just like my own, only
everything was exaggerated. It was puffy, the lips were distended, and the
clit rose up from it like a tiny cock. It was a gross perversion of the
female sex, and it cupped me and cradled me at the same time.

She grabbed a small round protuberance, and turned it.

"Now, pull it out and give it to me," she said.

I pulled out what appeared to be a key and reluctantly gave it to her.
Something inside told me things had just went to another level, but I her
eyes told me to give it to her anyway.

"What is it?" I asked.

She arched an eyebrow at me.

"What is it ma-am?" I corrected myself.

She said, "I call it our new profit sharing plan. You remember
yesterday when I said it was my job to motivate my girls. Well this is
your motivation, a chastity belt."

Oh shit, this was too much. I tugged at the device and tried to get it
off. I looked for the key, but she locked it in her desk.

"Are you finished yet?" she asked.

"Give me the key," I demanded, grabbing at her hand. "This is going to
way too far."

"I'll give it to you when you've earned it," she laughed, smirking at me
and easily keeping the key from my grasp.

"I'll get someone to cut it off."

"I'd like to see you explain how you got it. And just look at it," she
said, her gaze traveling up and down it's very realistic looking lips.
"It's so embarrassing, isn't it? No, I don't think you will be showing it
to anyone."

Tears welled in my eyes. In my heart, I knew she was right. I tried a
different tact. Begging: "Please ma'am. Take it off. I don't won't to do
this anymore."

"Sure. But first I want some relief. I'm feeling a little tense

I sank to my knees. Defeated.

"I think I will stay in my chair today," she said, raising her hips, so
that I could remove her panties.

She placed her legs over the arms of her chair and leaned back. I
proceeded to masturbate her. She smiled when she saw my nails.

"Your nails are absolutely gorgeous," she said. "Are they mine?"

"Yes ma-am." Somehow I was pleased that she noticed. Bill never
mentioned them last night.

"I love the way the color looks against my skin," she said.

It was a French manicure. The nails were the white and the pink. They
stood out, bright as neon, contrasting with her dark skin. I teased her
clit with my nail, trailed it along her slit, before cupping her whole
pussy in my hand and squeezing lightly, a move I had discovered last night,
before I was rudely interrupted.

"See," she breathed. "You are better already."

I blushed, unable to meet her eyes.

"Look at me."

I still couldn't. I stared at my fingers and at her sex.

"I said. Look at me. My eyes, not my cunt."

It was harder to do than you would think, especially, when you are naked
and kneeling between the legs of a fully clothed woman.

I met her eyes and her gaze was penetrating. It fucked me. It fucked
me to my soul.

"That's it pussy girl. I can see you now. I can see it in your eyes
that you are going to give me a good cum this time. Aren't you pussy girl?"

I nodded my head. My flushed cheeks burned. This was what I dreamed of
the night before, of servicing her, of her condescending attitude and her
superior stare that bored from my eyes straight to my sex. I needed to cum so badly and now even that had been taken from me.

"I love those soft white fingers, pussy girl. They've never been
spoiled with calluses from hard work, have they? Have they?" She was
breathing heavy. The corners of her mouth turned up - half sly grin - half
sexy pout.

"No ma'am."

"Yes, so soft . . . so tender. I bet you are soft and tender all

I thought back to my first maid. She was an older colored woman. She
would massage my feet with her hard calloused hands after I came in from
the office. I tried to imagine her servicing my pussy like I was servicing
Ms. Moore's. Instead, my fantasy took a turn for the worse and I was on
my knees in front my former maid.

I gasped and opened my eyes due to a sudden pain shooting from my nose.
Thandi held my nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"I said, look at me girl and I meant it. Look at my eyes and my face
while you work. That is how you know if you are doing a good job, little
pussy girl."

I concentrated on pleasing her again. My fingers dance and teased,
prodded and probed. Her face softened and she was right, it provided a
road map to her pleasure. A closing of the eyes, a gasp, or a biting of
the lower lip, meant to continue. Her eyes opening to look at me meant she
wanted me to do something else. A wince meant she didn't like it and I
wasn't to repeat that again.

"You're going to make me cum you pussy. My little pussy girl. Make me
cum with your fingers. Your soft white fingers. Work those fingers girl.
Look at me, not my cunt."

God she was demanding and my hands were tired, but I continued on.
Masturbating her to the best of my ability.

Her face contorted. The veins in her neck stood out. Her breathing
grew ragged. Her hips bucked. The chair squeaked.

This is what an orgasm looks like, I thought.

"God, I'm oh-oh-I'm cumming," she announced, as she grabbed both my ears
and pulled my face into her pussy. I didn't know what to do since my
fingers couldn't reach her, so I just held still and stared at her. Stared
at her, while she used my face as some sort of masturbation device.

Her face told the story of her orgasmic bliss. Gradually, it grew more
relaxed, the thrusting of her hips fainter, and thankfully her grip on my
ears lessened. Her eyes fluttered open and then widened in shock to see my
face trapped between her thighs, pulled tight against her sex.

She let go of my ears and I pulled back.

"Did I hurt you, my tender girl?" she asked, rubbing my ears and then
stroking my hair.

"No," I said. "I'm alright." I kept my stare directed at her face. It
was hard, part of me wanted to look at her pussy, to see what it looked
like after all my hard work.

Her eyes hardened. "Well, what are you staring at? Clean me up and do
something with your face. It's a mess. Then, get dressed and get back to
work. Don't think for a minute that this changes anything. I expect you
to still do your job and I expect you to do it right."

Thankless bitch.

"Yes, ma-am," I said, trying my best to keep my thoughts hidden, as I
cleaned her sex with tissues. Afterwards, I cleaned myself and dressed.
She stopped me at the door.

"Oh, and Tracy," she said as an after thought. "You did an excellent
job. I'm very pleased with your performance."

I couldn't believe she said that. I was naked, on my knees, giving her
an orgasm and she commends me like I did good work on the Pittman project.
What do you say to that? I was only doing it because you forced me, you
psycho bitch. No, I couldn't say that. She still had the box in the
corner and a pink slip with my name on it, not to mention the key to this
damned belt.

"Thank you ma-am," I muttered, my blushing face pointing to the floor,
my eyes cast up at her from underneath my bangs. I caught myself in a bob.
She did too and smiled condescendingly.

"Get me a cup of coffee when you come back and don't forget to freshen
your face."

Yes, my face. My pussy scented face. I repaired the damage to my
makeup, but I still smelled like her. I hurried to the bathroom, washed my
face and fingers, reapplied my makeup, got her a cup of coffee, and gave it
to her. She didn't even bother to look up, just motioned with her hands,
as if to say; hurry along girl - my little pussy girl.

I returned to work, still smelling the odor of her sex in my nostrils,
and praying that no one else could. The steel chastity belt was
uncomfortable. The way it hugged my sex, kept me aroused and always
thinking about it. I found the only way to function, was to pour myself
into my work.

The day flew by. I had lunch with Ms. Moore, per her request. I could
feel the stares of my coworkers, as if I had sold them out, by kissing up
to the head bitch. I ate the salad she ordered for me. I didn't have a
say in the matter and we chatted about work. As if we were friends and had
a normal working relationship. Afterwards, we returned to work and I threw
myself into it again.

AThe phone rang, I looked down to see her number, and my heart started
to pound. I picked it up.

"Yes, ma-am?"

"Report to my office at once, Tracy."

"Yes, ma-am."

I hurried to her office, my legs a blur beneath my skirt. I opened the
door, locked it, and started to disrobe.

"Leave them on," she said. "You've done a good job today Tracy, and I'm
letting you off early to run a few errands." She slid a key ring to me and
I took it.

She handed me a map and fifty dollars. "The keys are to my house. I
want you to go to the drycleaners and pick up my clothes, and pick up a
take-out meal for dinner. chinese would be nice. Get enough for two.
Take it all to my house, you have a map. When you get there, I want you to
change clothes and get on my treadmill. Just push start, don't touch the
programming and do it until it stops. Don't leave until I get home."

This was the second day she let me off early and co-workers were
starting to notice. I kept my eyes downcast, unable to meet their agitated
glances, praying they wouldn't see the outline of the steel belt, encasing
my pussy.

I did as she requested, and every time I got up or sat down, the belt
cupped and caressed my sex. As I rode to her house, I realized I was hot.
No, not just hot, I was desperate. I even felt like I could have molested
the young clerk at the drycleaners. My hand snuck beneath my skirt and I
tried to circumvent the belt, but I couldn't so much as wiggle a little
finger beneath the cruel, unyielding steel. I pulled the car over, had a
little cry and then summoned the strength to begin driving again.

By the time I arrived at her house, I had resigned myself to the
situation. A situation that couldn't last forever; I just needed to be

Her house was not quite what I imagined. For some reason I pictured a
huge mansion. It wasn't. It was even slightly smaller than mine. I took
the food and clothes in her house, and found the outfit she wanted me to
exercise in, laying on her bed. I stripped and sat down on the bed, and
instead of dressing, I tried once again to circumvent the belt. I

To my horror, I found that the outfit I was to wear wasn't much of an
outfit at all, only a sports bra and a thin pair of shorts with a built in
thong that left little to the imagination. I put them on, stepped on the
stairclimber, and pressed start.

It was hard work. My legs and ass burned like mad. I was tempted
several times to turn the machine down, but I hesitated at the last moment.
Her instructions were firm regarding this matter and usually the machine
seemed to sense I was about to give up and the intensity would grow less.

The wall was one giant mirror. It was impossible not to look at myself
while I exercised. My sweat had soaked the white bra making my pink
aureoles clearly visible. The shaped mound of the chastity belt was
clearly visible through the bottoms. Even though I knew what I was seeing
was only steel, my mind seemed drawn to the shape of a large gaping sex
with a hard clit sticking out. Seeing myself this way in the mirror only
served to stoke the flames of my increasingly frustrating need for sex.

The exercise program finally ended, and I got off and took a shower.
While I was there I tried to wiggle my soapy fingers into the belt, but it
wouldn't yield. I had to settle for massaging my soapy breasts. It felt
nice, but it did nothing to give me release and only served to let me know
just how bad a fix I was in.

Then I remembered the keys!

I quickly dried off, wrapped the towel around me, and found her key ring
by the door. I sat down on the couch and tried every key in hopes of
opening the belt. No luck. Speaking of luck, it was at that moment she
opened the front door catching me there red handed.

"What the hell are you doing slut?" she demanded.

"Nothing," I said, hiding the keys behind my back.

She slid the thin narrow belt from the loops of her skirt as she
approached me. "I see you need a lesson about lying *and* disobedience."

"What are you doing?" I said, getting up from the couch and backing away
from her. She couldn't do what it looked like she was going to do, could

She pursued. I fled. She grabbed the towel. Naked but for the belt I
wore, I continued to flee. She caught me in the hall, forcing me down to
the carpet and sat on my back to keep me there.

The belt leapt out, kissing my backside painfully. I tried to shield
myself from the blows with my hands, but she held my arms trapped between
my sides and her thighs. She quickly made easy work of me, the belt
whistling in the air, punctuated by the sound of leather on flesh, ending
in my cries.

It never seemed to end. I tried to fight, but eventually just have up,
laboring for breath between sobs and clenching with each painful blow.

Finally, I felt her getting up. I tried to push myself up.

"Don't move," she warned me. "Or I'll start over from the beginning."

She didn't have to tell me twice. I lay there obediently, not moving a
muscle even as she stuffed something in my mouth.

"I'm tired of listening to you blubber," she said.

The taste and odor hit me. I realize what it is she's put in my mouth.
Her panties.

I spit them out.

"It looks like I need to start your obedience lesson all over again,"
she says.

"No, wait," I said. "Anything but that."

She held the panties to my mouth again and I forced myself to open.

"Ask me nicely."

Dear God, she was going to make me to ask for them. "Please," I begged.

"Please what?"

"Please put your panties in my mouth."

"Since you insist," she said, forcing her soiled undergarment into my

I could taste her. Worse, I had begged for it.

"It seems you have learned obedience," she said. "Now, let's address
the lying."

"Mmmmphhhh..." I cried through the panty gag.

She removed them. "Something to say?" she asked.

"Please, I-I can't take anymore on my ass," I begged crying.

She rubbed her hand over my burning bottom cheeks. I could feel the
ridges she had cut into me with the small belt. "Yes," she said. "These
have been marked pretty good. How about you take the rest on your fat
white thighs?"

"Please don't," I muttered.

"Ass or thighs," she said. "You pick."

Damned if I did, damned if I didn't. ". . . thighs." I chose.

"No," she said. "Ask me for it. And you better start showing me

Why was she doing this to me? What had I ever done to her to deserve
this? "Please ma'am," I begged. "Can I have the rest on my thighs?"

"Sure you can my little pussy girl," she cooed, stuffing her panties back in my mouth. "Just roll over for me and spread those pudgy legs of

I rolled over on my back and parted my legs.

"Spread them slut," she ordered. "Spread them like you do for all those
white boyfriends of yours."

My cheeks burned with humiliation. I longed to tell her I had a husband
not a bunch of boyfriends, but I couldn't due to the gag in my mouth.
Instead, I spread my legs wide, obeying her, while she hiked up her skirt
and sat down on my chest.

"I think five on each of your fat thighs should be enough for you to
learn your lesson," she said, before announcing, "Here it comes."

She struck me with the end of the belt on the inside of one thigh,
paused a second and then hit the other. It wasn't until she hit me the
second time that the pain from the first blow registered and when it did,
it really registered. It felt like I had been bee-stung all along the
inside of my thigh. My legs flew closed and I rubbed my thighs together
trying to lessen the pain, but only serving to rub one dark welt against
the other.

"Come on whore," she said, shifting her weight on my chest. "Get those
legs apart."

It was slow work getting back in position. My body didn't want to obey
my mind, but eventually I was able to spread my shaking and trembling legs

"Wider, Tracy-girl," she said, shifting again on my chest. I became
aware of what she was doing. She was grinding against me and getting off
on this - getting off on punishing me and there was nothing I could do
about it.

I submitted to her, drawing my legs up and spreading them wide, knees
and feet spread out like a common whore.

"Two," she said, strapping my thighs with the belt on the inside of each
of my thighs.

This blow hurt even more, causing me to buck and squirm underneath her.

"Ahhh," Thandi groaned. "Again."

I was crying and sobbing through the panty gag. My hips pumped as the
tried to dissipate the pain.

I was also turned on. My pussy quivered, desperate for stimulation. My
nipples were so hard, they hurt. I spread my legs again. Again and again,
she let my body taste her leather belt. I could feel her wet pubes
sticking to my chest as she ground against me. She kept going, whipping
the insides of my spread thighs until I had five bright red stripes on each
one. Her hips ground against me the whole time.

At the end, I lay splayed underneath her. She idly traced one of the

"I love the way the red looks against your skin," Thandi said, looking
back over her shoulder and looking down at me. "And do you know what else
I would like to see?"

I shook my head, unable to speak for the panties in my mouth.

She spun around, straddling me now from the front. "Those pretty white
fingers working my black pussy."

This I could do. It was a task far simpler than being whipped.

My fingers entered her easily. I fucked her with shallow thrusts,
alternately bringing them out and diddling her clit. Her head rolled to
the side, before rolling down and looking down at me with a superior grin.

I blushed, looking down, unable to meet those piercing brown eyes. Not
after what she had done to me. I was sure she would see my murderous rage.

"Look at me, my tender little pussy girl," she cooed, tilting my head
back, and pulling the panties from my mouth.

I forced myself to meet her eyes and try not to get lost in her power.
Her pink tongue darted out of her mouth and licked her lips. God, she
looked sexy and the thought scared me to the core.

I hate you. I chanted in my head as a mantra.

She panted, rolled her hips in a circle, and gasped. "So angry the way
you look at me little pussy girl, my white finger fucking pussy girl."

I looked back down in fear. Afraid she would beat me again.

She tilted my head back up. "No, I like it," Thandi said. "Tell me
what you are thinking right now or I will whip those milky white tits of

I couldn't tell her; she would whip me anyway. And Jesus, she was going
to do it on my breasts.

"I hate you," I whimpered, looking back at her accusingly.

"Yes!" she cried, squeezing her nipples and running her hand down her
body. "Come on girl do my clit while you do my pussy."

I worked her pussy with both of my hands. I hated her. I wanted to be
her. I wanted my pussy playing with.

"You're my girl now," she said. "I've turned you. I've turned you into
a pussy girl. My pussy girl. How does it feel?"

"I hate you," I spat. "I hate you. I hate this. I hate the way my ass
burns. I hate the way my thighs feel. I hate the way people at work look
at me. I hate the way my pussy aches. . ."

"Oh-yes, I love it. Ugh-here-it-comes."

"I hate you. I hate watching you orgasm. I hate. . ."

Her hips bucked lewdly, displaying her carnal desires. As if to say,
look at me orgasm, don't you wish you could? And I did. I wished more
than anything to be sweating and humping in pleasure.

Ah-ah-ugh-fuck-fuck-I'm-cumming," she cried, before collapsing on my
face and smothering my tirade with her sex and thighs.

I hated her. I hated her and I wanted to be her. I wanted an orgasm. I
wanted to . . . taste her.

She got off of me and to my disbelief, looped the belt around my neck
and pulled me to the couch as if I were some sort of animal. "Mmmm-you
tossed me off good that time," she said, running her fingers through my

I wanted to say fuck you bitch, let me up, I'm not a goddamn dog.
Instead I said, "Thanks. Can I go please?"

"Not yet. I think you deserve a treat," she said. She pulled a gift
box out of her purse and handed it to me.

I sat kneeling in front of her, with my hands covering my breasts,
staring at the package as if it might blow up.

"Go on. Take it." Her voice left no room for discussion.

Reluctantly, I took my hands from my breasts and opened the package. I
gasped at the first hint of glitter. It was a large gold bracelet and very
nicely made and a pair of earring. There was a golden cats dangling from
the bracelet, and it had jeweled eyes. The clasp was held together by a
fairly large golden lock. The earrings were hoops, with identical cats in
the loops.

"I-I don't know what to say," I said.

"Say thank you Miss Moore."

"Thank you Miss Moore."

"Here, let me put it on you," Thandi said, pulling her gold necklace
from between her breasts. On the end of the chain was a gold key which she
used to unlock the clasp on the bracelet. I knew at that moment it was the
key to my chastity as well.

"You like?" she said, dangling the key in front of my eyes.

"Please, ma'am" I begged. "Unlock me."

"You have to earn it first."

God, how I needed that key. "How?" I asked.

She replaced the key between her breasts and closed the lock shut on my
bracelet. Then she held my arm up to the light and flicked the cat so that
it rocked back and forth.

"It's a pussy," she said. "And you are my pussy girl. If you want to
get your little belt off, all you have to do is keep doing what you are
doing. I want you to toss me off ten times. For each time, I will give
you a new pussy for your bracelet. Once you have ten little pussies, I
will unlock you."

"Only ten times," I said. "Do the ones today count?"

"Just the one tonight. It has to be a good one. Not like that shit
from today or yesterday."

"Please," I gasped, running my hands down my body and pushing against
the chastity belt. "Just for tonight. I need it. It's been too long." I
was telling her more than I meant to.

"And I *want* you needing it. With great motivation comes great
results, and I want you supremely motivated," she said laughingly, as she
took off my earrings and put on the large hoops.

"But-but," I sputtered.

She stood up, holding the end of my makeshift leash slung above her
shoulder, and walked to the kitchen. I did my best to shuffle along behind
her without bumping into her. I felt so naked, so vulnerable, even more so
by the fact that she was still dressed in her business clothes.

Thandi opened the take-out trays and inhaled deeply. "Mmmmm," she said,
doling herself a plate of food. When she was done, she placed the rest
into two containers.

"There should be enough left for you and your husband," she said. To my
disbelief, she snorted and then spat into one of the containers and stirred
it in. "This one is for your husband, okay?"

She couldn't expect me to serve him that, could she?

"Okay," she said, jerking on the belt and causing it to tighten around
my neck.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered.

"Good," she said, removing the belt from my neck and giving one of the
large earrings small thump. "Get dressed and go home. Be sure to wear my
gifts tomorrow."


Afterwards, I drove home. I was an emotional wreck. I had been
whipped, humiliated, and treated like a slave. Making matters worse, I was
turned no beyond belief. I wanted more, I wanted lots more, but most of
all, I wanted to cum.


When I got home, the first words out of my husband's mouth were, "Geez,
you're late. I'm about to starve."

"Don't worry, I brought home Chinese," I said with a grin. This was
going to be easier than I thought. "Oh, and don't bother getting up. I'll
fix your plate."

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath,as I went to the kitchen. If he
only had an idea of how much I had endured to provide for us, he wouldn't
take me for granted like he did. I fixed him a plate of food and for
spite, I spit in his food as well and stirred it in.

I returned to the living room with our plates, got us each a beer, and
sat down to eat. He was watching football as usual.

"Do you think we could watch something else," I asked.

"Sure," he said. "Just let me watch the rest of this game. There's
only ten minutes left."

I felt a little guilty as he ate his spit-laden food, but twenty minutes
later and the game still on, I wished I had tossed in some dirt as well.

Finally, it was over and we watched the news.

"There's something different about you," Bill said, looking at me
critically. "But I can't quite put my finger on it."

My face burned in shame. Maybe he recognized the fact that I was now a
'pussy-girl' for my boss. I carried so many of her marks on me now, there
was no way I could volunteer anything to him. I sat dreading what he

"Your earrings," he said. "They're new aren't they? Honey, you know
you can't afford to waste our money like that."

"They're old," I said, and after a sudden inspiration, decided to put
him on the defensive. "I'm wearing them because I can't afford to buy any
new ones."

"Well, they look good on you," he said.

The fact that he even noticed them, much less liked them, let me know
just how garish and outlandish they looked on me.

"Thanks," I replied, standing up and picking up our plates in the
process. I smiled with the knowledge of what he had eaten. "At least pick
up your shoes and socks while I clean up."

For the rest of the night, I cleaned the house, took a cold shower to
ease the need in my body, and went to bed.

I was awakened to the sensation of someone caressing my pajama covered
bottom. I responded, pushing my ass back to make myself more available.

The belt! I realized with a start, catching his hand and moving away
from my husband.

"Leave me alone," I said. "I was asleep."

I laid there, aroused and unable to go to sleep, but holding still and
praying he would.

He didn't. His hand returned to my bottom. I couldn't afford to let
him discover the chastity belt. How could I explain that?

I sighed, ducking under the covers and making my way to his crotch. He
was already partially hard. I tongued the head of his cock, covered my
teeth with my lips and sucked it into my mouth. I moved up and down on the
head, until he was fully erect. With one hand moving up and down his cock
with a twisting motion, while fondling his balls with the other, I bobbed
my head up and down on his hard cock.

I could hear him mutter something to the effect of, "Oh shit. Oh
Jesus," while he pushed up and down on my head, however, I was too busy
taking a personal inventory to pay it much mind. Yes, judging by my
painfully hard nipples and my aching pussy, I was pleased to note that I
was aroused and still thankfully straight.

There was only one small problem: I wasn't as aroused as I had been with

I suppose it could have been that she held the key to unlock the
chastity belt and no matter what Bill did tonight, there was no way he
could bring me off.

Speaking of bringing off, Bill grabbed my head and tried to shove his
prick down my throat. Luckily, my hand was wrapped around the base. It
stopped the progress of his prick, but did nothing to stop his bitter cum from spurting in my mouth.

I guess that makes me a pussy girl and a dick girl; my existence solely
to please other people, without any regard to my own pleasure.

I milked him until he was spent, then got up, went to the bathroom, spit
his sperm into a tissue and flushed it down the toilet. I washed my mouth
out with mouthwash, spit it out, and looked in the mirror. My eyes were
haunted and hungry with need.

I locked the bathroom door and took off my clothes. My nipples were
painfully tight, my chest flushed, and my pussy . . . I bet my pussy look
just as aroused and open as the one molded into the surface of the metal
belt covering it. red streaks covered the inside of my thighs and only one
thought screamed in my mind.


I covered my abdomen with baby oil as lubrication and tried to sneak a
finger in. Nothing. I tried pushing a cue-tip through the pee-hole.
Nada. I tried pushing the cue- tip through the top. Nothing worked. Even
when I could circumvent the belt, I couldn't get enough movement in order
to get off.

Using my baby-oil coated fingers, I even tried finger-fucking my ass,
but the goddamn manicure prevented me from doing so. In the end, I played
with my nipples and listened to the lock on the bracelet clack against my
metal prison, as I fucked myself in the ass with a lipstick tube. The only
thing I succeeded in was making myself even more horny and frustrated than

I cried briefly. Took another cold shower and went back to bed, trying
uselessly to sleep.

Goddamn her. Goddamn that coloured bitch.



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