Allow Me To Serve

Chapter One-2

Like they were tied up.

I leaned against the wall. I had rented to a nice, quiet couple. That’s all. Nice and quiet. No problems, as long as they paid the rent on time...rent on time.

I repeated that to myself. Just pay the rent and there won’t be any problems. I opened the kitchen door. There was the check. On time, as usual, for the right dollar amount, made out to me. Everything was going to be fine. Fine. Except for one thing.

The check wasn’t signed.

Shit. s**t and f**k. Now what?

I needed the money. Needed it to make my house p*****t. All right then, I headed for the apartment’s stairs. I would just ask them to sign it. That’s all. Just sign the damn thing.

I knocked on the door. No answer. Someone had to be there, I could hear the shower water. I knocked again and the door creaked opened. It hadn’t been shut all the way.

The check shook in my hand. I poked my head inside. “Daniel? Stephanie?”

There wasn’t anyone in the kitchen area, so I walked through the breakfast nook, and then slammed on the brakes at the edge of the central living room.

Everything seemed normal enough. In the center of the wall opposite me a door opened to a short hallway that led to bedrooms on the left and right. Just beyond the hallway door was the bathroom and the still running shower. Near the window on my right sat a desk with a computer. A notepad with what I assumed was Daniel and Stephanie’s physical descriptions lay near the keyboard. On the monitor above the screen saver changed from one bright nature scene to another. Set against the left hand wall was a black leather couch, a red, green and white afghan draped across the back. In front was a glass coffee table, a large picture book angled just so to one side. An entertainment unit was set against the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. In the corner on the unit’s other side was the tall, round cage. I got my first look at it up close and it was painted glossy black with a red accent here and there. I made the excuse to myself that the open, swinging gate on the cage was the only thing messy about the room and needed to be tidied up. I kept my steps light on the hardwood floor and then on the dark area rug as I noiselessly crossed to it. My hands curled around the thin, but strong bars and swung them close with a slight clang. Yep, sturdy.

I backed away, ready to leave the check on the coffee table with a short note. Then I noticed the book: an artful; black and white photo of a woman’s stomach graced the cover. Around her were several tight windings of rope. I stared at it, transfixed, just like last night from my bedroom window. Again, I don’t know how long I stood there. Too late I noticed the shower had gone quiet.

“Oh, hello, Marlene.”

I jumped. There was Stephanie, wrapped in a towel. Water glistened off her slim arms and legs. Her dark, wet hair shone like wet obsidian.

She wandered over to me. “So, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

I blinked. Why did I come here? “Ah, it’s this,” I said. I handed her the check.

Stephanie frowned as she looked it over. Then her eyebrows shot up. “I am so stupid. Forgive me.” She brushed past me to the desk and scribbled her name on the signature line. As she bent over the towel fell down her back a little. Three thin, angry red stripes peeked out. Her movement against the desk also disrupted the screen saver. I just managed to catch a web site banner that announced “Bondage, Inc.” before she turned back around and blocked my view.

“I am so sorry. We were up late last night. It won’t happen again.” Stephanie handed me the check.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Uh, did you have a good time at your party last night?”

Stephanie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes. After it broke up we came back here with some new friends. We didn’t get to sleep until real late. Poor Daniel. He had a faculty meeting this morning though, but he was all hyped up last night. I don’t think he slept at all. He woke me up before he left.” She adjusted the towel around her, pulling it up higher.

I wanted to get another look at Stephanie’s back, the computer, or even at the coffee table book, but Stephanie kept facing me, blocked my view of the screen, and the book was behind me, on the other side of the room. And since the check was taken care of...

“Well, thanks,” I said. I headed for the door.

“Marlene,” Stephanie called after me. “It must get lonely in that big house. If you ever want to just come over, you know, just to talk.”

Lonely? Sometimes it sure did get that way. Hell, a lot of the time. I wanted to say: Why do you think I ran out to talk to you last night? Instead I shrugged and said: “Maybe you can invite me to your next party.”

Stephanie stared at me. “If that’s what you want.”

I paused. She was serious. But was I?

“I don’t know,” I said. “Frankly, I don’t know what I want.”

Stephanie slowly nodded. “Let us know when you do.”

I ran my errands, first the bank, then groceries, then gas in the car, etc. Somewhere in there was a brief, lonely espresso at South Coast. I sat at an out of the way corner table, jealous of all the laughing couples on their way to a movie, or dinner, or whatever. I even saw the big, dark-haired man there, and the light blonde woman too, but they were on the far side of the room, with people constantly in between us. They didn’t move much, as if, like Daniel and Stephanie, they hadn’t gotten any sleep at all last night and today. His arm wrapped around her shoulders while her head rested against his and they both just stared into space. The peacefulness in them reminded me of what Daniel and Stephanie had, maybe not to the same degree, but it was there. Whatever it was, I didn’t have it, but I wanted it. Oh, god, I wanted it.

I shot out the door, jammed through the rest of my tasks and got home after dark. I parked in the garage, cradled the groceries in my arms, and marched back to my house. The apartment’s living room lights shone down from above on the concrete and moody, classical music floated from an open window. It followed me into the house, stayed with me while I slammed everything in a cupboard or refrigerator. Then it abruptly stopped. I glanced out the kitchen window and saw Daniel lock their window and draw the drapes.

I ate dinner alone, then tried to watch some show, and later wandered from empty room to empty room. I put on some gentle music of my own to match the house’s Victorian style but instead of making me feel warm and protected it made me even lonelier. Just after my divorce I had almost rented out the spare bedrooms. I didn’t though and they were still bereft of furniture. Suddenly, I had a vision of myself as a crazy old lady living alone for years, rattling around in a huge empty house—the house in the neighborhood that no one dared approach.

But it didn’t have to be that way. I had an open invitation from Stephanie, an invitation to just come up and talk. Still, I held off. What exactly would we talk about? Their jobs? The weather? No. No, it was fairly obvious that Stephanie had something more in mind than just patter. And so did I.

Next thing I knew, I was on the apartment stairs and my fist rapped on the door. I could hear the music again and again I knocked, but now tentative and unsure. No answer. I tried once more and still nothing. But then I heard something other than music. I stepped around the corner, onto the balcony. From between the drapes and the window’s edge, a small slit of light cut across the balcony. Carefully, so slow that the boards underneath me wouldn’t creak, I crept up to the little opening and peeked inside. I gasped.

Rope was strewn everywhere. On the floor, the couch, it even hung from a ceiling hook in the middle of the room I know I hadn’t put up there. But the ropes didn’t hold my attention. No, my attention was directed solely on my tenants.

A naked Stephanie knelt in the middle of the room. Tight, white rope bound her arms in back at her wrists, elbows and upper arms. More rope crisscrossed over and under her full breasts like a makeshift bra that squeezed them out, her pink, hardened n*****s leading the way. More rope pressed in to her stomach, like on the cover of the coffee table book, except several more strands plunged to Stephanie’s crotch, disappearing in her pubic hairs. In back her hands trembled, an action that matched her lips just below a leather blindfold that covered half her face. Her head turned this way, then that, and sought to track Daniel’s movements.

Whip in hand he circled her. He was naked too while his large, erect c**k thrust out, shiny and wet. He stroked it occasionally, then closed on Stephanie and it poked her on the cheek. Instead of pulling back Stephanie eagerly took it in, her mouth all over it, sucking, pulling, frothing, her head a machine.

My mouth turned dry and a warmth spread between my legs, one that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Dimly aware of what I did, my hands pulled apart my pant’s snap and unfastened the zipper.

Daniel pulled back, but Stephanie leaned forward, keeping his c**k in her mouth as long as possible. At last Daniel stood clear but Stephanie’s tongue sneaked out, and its wet, pink end strained to barely touch Daniel’s c**k tip. It flicked across it, back and forth.

In a high arc Daniel brought the whip down.

Whish! Crack!

It landed across Stephanie’s arms and shoulders.

“Aaaii!” she cried.

My fingers pushed down between my panties and swirled in my juice as I teased my p***y lips. Oh, yes.

Daniel leaned down and whispered something in her ear. His other hand reached around in back of her and the crotch rope tightened. Stephanie gasped, held herself rigid while Daniel worked the rope. Tighten, then relax. Tighten, relax.

“Umm. Ohhh,” Stephanie moaned.

I managed to swallow and spread my legs open further. My hand dove deeper and my fingers pushed inside me. Oh, good. That was it. Yes.

“Do you like showing off your whip marks?” Daniel said. “Do you think Marlene saw them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know!” Stephanie croaked and struggled with her words while Daniel kept on with the crotch rope. “Maybe. I couldn’t...ah, ah! I couldn’t tell. She...She surprised me. I forgot, ah! I forgot to sign the...the check.”

Daniel gave a harder tug and Stephanie half-sobbed, half-gasped. She hung her head and her chin trembled.

“You ‘forgot’ to sign the check,” Daniel said. “So she came up here and you were so conveniently wrapped in a towel. How could she not see your stripes? You little exhibitionist, you didn’t forget.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Stephanie whined. “I can’t help it. I can’t! I’m proud to be your slave and I wanted her to know. Forgive me!”

“Of course I forgive you, slave.” Daniel stroked her head and his fingers found their way to her lips. He forced them in Stephanie’s mouth, almost to the knuckles and Stephanie held her head absolutely still.

My other hand pulled at my own mouth lips. They pushed down on my tongue.

“I forgive you, slave,” Daniel said again. “But you will be punished. You know you deserve it. No orgasm for you tonight. That’s right. No release. No matter what I do, you are not to c*m. Let’s see if a night of denial will bring you back in line.”

A haze overtook me. I could still see, but everything turned soft, dull. My p***y, oh, my p***y was a river. I had never been this wet before! The haze transformed into a vague but pleasant sensation and my muscles began to tighten while I also mentally floated. It was all so warm, so safe.