AMATEUR XXX STORIES

-

ALPHABETICAL SEX STORY LISTINGS:

A - B - C - D - E - F - G - H - I - J - K - L - M - N - O - P - Q - R - S - T - U - V - W - X - Y - Z

Amazon dot cum2

Amazon dot cum by Couture email: couture_writes@hotmail.com

(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

hell.

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

said.

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.

Fuck.

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

arousing.

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."

"Ma-am?"

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

clothes.

"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

today."

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

over."

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

patient.

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

couldn't.

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?

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

mouth.

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

respect."

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

yours."

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

apart.

"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

welts.

"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

yours."

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

hair.

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

noticed.

"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

Thandi.

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 MUST CUM!

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

before.

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

uselessly to sleep.

Goddamn her. Goddamn that coloured bitch.

***********