The Accidental Sub (40 page)

I waited for it to pass before I let her go. When she had walked into my garage, I had known that her control had been pushed to the breaking point. It would not have taken much to push her over. When the orgasm passed I used my middle finger to open her nether lips a little, then cupped my hand under her sex. "Push," I told her.

She was still in the afterglow of an extended orgasm and I don't think she was tracking on what I was asking. "Master?" was all I heard with a big question hanging on the end of that one word.

"Push the balls into my hand," I said. I felt her belly contract a little and then one after the other, the wet gold balls dropped into my hand.

She looked at me, grinned, and said, "Oh, Master, now I know what it must feel like to be a chicken."

I had to laugh at this. I had never considered that her pushing the balls out was like a chicken laying an egg. My laughter triggered hers and we both fell to floor and laughed till our sides hurt.

We finally stopped laughing and went inside to the air conditioning. After I got into the house I lifted up the back of her dress to check the other opening. The pleasure beads were still inserted and the last red bead was peeking out between her ass cheeks. I decided to leave them there for a little later. The kitchen timer began to beep and I quickly shut it off. The little present that had been tucked away in her sex had driven her here way in advance of my best estimate. She was progressing in her slavery quite nicely.

It was getting late on a Friday night and we had both put in a full week at work. We were both tired. I pointed her to the bedroom. I had no intention of doing anything other than sleeping at the moment. After taking the dress from her and binding her by one ankle to the bed, I gathered her in close and went to sleep hugging her.

The next morning I again woke to sunlight and the smell of coffee. I decided right then that I could get used to this treatment. With a warm naked female and cup of coffee waiting for me when I woke up, the day just seemed glorious. She waited until I finished the coffee before making her request.

"Master, will you please remove the pleasure beads so I can use the toilet?" she asked.

The best way to remove the pleasure beads is to pull them out one at a time while the slave is having on orgasm. I placed her on her back with her hands behind her neck and her fingers interlaced, then I slapped her thigh. She immediately opened her legs widely

A quick check by hand showed her moistening rapidly. I began to caress her sex and waited until she began to moan. She was heating up fast and I was enjoying getting her there. I waited until she was close, then demanded that she cum.

At the moment of orgasm I grabbed the last bead and began to pull them out. This is harder than it sounds, because the anal passage is a strong muscle and LA was bucking under my hand. I did not know what to expect as she had never experienced this exactly and she had only recently lost her anal virginity.

The effect was tremendous. Never had I seen such an explosive orgasm. Her body bucked even harder and my hand became covered with her cum. Her whole body seemed to rise off the bed. Her hands stayed behind her head but her legs lifted her body off the bed until it was arched with nothing but her feet and head touching the bed. Her body did not fall back to the bed until the last bead was pulled out. When she fell back to the bed, she was breathing heavily and nothing else was moving. Even my caress of her cunt was not causing a reaction.

I let her be for a minute or two. While she was still in the afterglow of this massive orgasm, I took her hands from behind her head and put them to her sides and waited.

When her eyes opened and she found me I simply said, "When you are ready, you may use the bathroom." I laid the pleasure beads on her belly. "Clean these then set them aside to dry."

I got another cup of coffee and began to read the newspaper. It was a full fifteen minutes before L.A. joined me in the kitchen. I noticed she was still nude and had not attempted to clothe herself. She was not making assumptions now that I would allow her clothing. I think she had been a little miffed about that at first but now she seemed to accept this, as her masters will.

I told her to get her robe, and then I had her get some coffee and start breakfast. I had discovered that my slave could cook and I intended to utilize this talent while she in my control. The fast food, freeze-dried, frozen and canned goods I tended to eat while alone were wearing thin. You can't eat but so many cans of ravioli before it starts to cause indigestion just by looking at it.

We spent most of that morning in cozy domesticity. I had her strip the bed and start the laundry. I helped sort the laundry and left the piles of dirty clothes lying on the floor. I started to make the bed but decided to let the mattress air out and dry. Even with the mattress pad I kept on the bed her secretions had soaked through. She blushed every time she came through the bedroom and saw it.

After the last load was in the washer, I told L.A. to get dressed for a trip to the market. I had her fix her hair and makeup to perfection then put her in the corset again. This time I laced her up and with the last tug of the laces took her breath away. I did not go easy on her this time, and with the weight loss and the exercise at the dance class, managed to get it tighter than before. I did not allow her panties but otherwise she was normally dressed externally. I have to admit I enjoyed the looks of envy and double takes I got in the store.

The trip was mostly uneventful except for watching her reactions as I picked up some produce. She would not ask in public but she had to be wondering whether was this for consumption or was I going to use the vegetables for other things. She had captured the attention of every male in the store as we pushed our basket from aisle to aisle. One fellow put his box of cereal back on the shelf three times while watching my accidental sub and was pretending not to.

Dressed and made up as she was, she far outshone the other Moms and housewives in the store who tended to do the weekly shopping in whatever was comfortable and made no attempt to look attractive.

I made sure that she was the one who retrieved the items from the low shelves just to hear her grunt a little as her corset made itself known. I had her get a gallon of milk and smiled as she struggled to get it into the basket. Most people don't realize how much you depend on the abdominal muscles. Unless the muscles are sore or under strain, they are simply not noticed. She was feeling the bondage I had placed her in. I was sure that every breath was a reminder as well.

In the checkout line, I watched once again the battle of the bag boys to get to our line. The same teenager who had attended to us last time got us this time and I watched with amusement as he missed putting items into the bags. I really don't think he heard my simple instructions to keep the refrigerated items together in one bag.

When he ran the basket of groceries out to the car, he lingered a bit longer than was necessary and I made sure he had an opportunity to get a good look at my slave. I watched him move the basket back to the store sporting an erection. He was trying to hide it with the basket. Ah, youth and raging hormones.

At the car I once again seat belted L.A. in before I left. On the way home I asked her a few questions. She had been paying attention this time and had noticed the looks and glances of the people in the store.

She told me she had watched the man with the cereal box and had noticed the glances and in some cases the double takes of many of the shoppers in the store. She had held her posture in the store very straight. She also admitted that she given the bag boy a small thrill. She had deliberately bent over to get one of the bags of groceries a little deeper than she normally would have. The sun dress had pulled away from her body and had given the bag boy a good look down her dress. That more than anything explained the erection. He would think about that for months. I would be willing to bet he would masturbate to that picture in his head as well.

After getting home and getting the refrigerated goods inside, I stripped her to the corset and set her to putting things away. I went and got the rest of the bags in a few trips. Then I sat and watched as she completed this task. I enjoyed her watching her do these small chores, dressed as I had commanded. Watching her do these things filled me with lust and it was all I could do not to ravage her on the kitchen floor. She had a little smile on her face as she explored my kitchen and put away the groceries. She knew my eyes were on her and what I must be thinking. I slipped away for a minute and put a condom on under my clothing.

When the last can of food was put away, I called her to me. I unlaced the corset and rudely yanked it off her body. Without any words, I put her on the kitchen floor and kicked her legs wide open. I took her hands and had her hold onto the legs of one of the kitchen chairs and told her not to let to go until given permission.

I stripped and had her, and not gently, right then and there on the kitchen floor. Her cunt had begun to flow from the instant I had called her to me. I entered her easily. I had held my desire in check for so long I knew I was going to lose my control in just moments after entering her. I withdrew and caught my breath for a second then began to kiss and lick and suck those gorgeous nipples. When they were erect I moved to her belly then her shaved cunt.

I wanted to see her begging to cum first. After just a few seconds at her belly and cunt, I felt the telltale spasms of her belly. She was so close.

"Do you want to cum slave?" I demanded.

She was still squirming on floor but managed to get out between clenched teeth, "Yes, Master."

"You may beg!" I said and went back to feasting on the smoothness between her legs. I could feel her insides quivering but I would not grant her release. Even here on the kitchen floor she would have to explicitly ask for her release.

Another moment later I heard what I had been waiting for. "Oh, please, Master, your humble and obedient slave begs for you permission to cum."

When I heard those words, I stopped my attentions to her cunt and mounted her again. "You may cum," I grunted, and began slapping her body with mine. I heard my body hitting hers and the sound of her body against the cool tile floor. Again I felt my orgasm climbing but she had already started to cum. The contractions of her cunt were grabbing my cock and triggered mine. Her body was milking mine of every drop it had.

I was winded but satisfied when I collapsed on top of her. Her body, still in its orgasmic state, continued to spasm even as I felt my erection break and soften. I got up and pulled off the condom and put it in the trash and watched as the orgasm passed. There was one definite advantage to having her on the kitchen floor: the puddle of fluid on the floor between her legs could be easily cleaned up.

I had just about made up my mind to have her wash and wax the kitchen floor nude on her hands and knees when a pager went off. I went and checked mine to find that it was not beeping. The sound was coming from L.A.'s bag. I went and got her and she looked puzzled as well when she saw the number.

"Master, I need to answer this. It's the Houston office." I nodded and she got her cell phone and made a call.

Hearing one side of the conversation was confusing. She identified herself and then began saying "Yes Sir". After a few of seconds of this I heard "Yes, Sir. Tomorrow morning at eight." Then she ended the call. She looked at the phone in her hand and just stood there motionless.

I waited and the time seemed to hang there. She was looking at the phone and I was watching my nude slave look at the phone.

She finally looked up then knelt in front of me without looking up. I saw the indecision on her face as well as tension and uncertainty.

When she finally looked up, her words were formal and carefully measured. "Master, I think I need to go. I only know of one reason to get a call like that from the head office in Houston on a Sunday. There must be something terribly wrong with the books and accounting at the office."

I knew the look and the fear associated with it. I just waited a few seconds and said, "Go. Do what you have to." She got dressed, packed her bag the after giving me a quick goodbye kiss and a hug, she was gone.

The distracted look she had told me all I needed to know. Her mind must have been going in a thousand different directions thinking of all the bookings and so on she had made in the last few months. Was there a mistake in the arithmetic somewhere? I had seen things like this before. We called them "Witch Hunts." They will forgive just about anything except creative accounting.