Message-ID: <3840eli$9709081056@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: anakha@clara.net (anakha) Subject: Best Of The Net: REPOST - NEW Mortgage 7/10 (nc, m/f, f/f, bd) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <5utnra$2s3$10@eros.clara.net> *************************************************************************** Hi, I have been downloading stuff from Usenet for some time and haven't really been putting an awful lot back so I decided it was time to repost the stuff I have. There are a number of reasons for this. Firstly it is for those who have only started using Usenet since the stories I have were originally posted, secondly for those who may simply have missed them first time round and lastly my contribution to fighting the ever increasing spam which now saturates all of the sex newsgroups. The vast majority of the stories I post will be plain bondage orientated with a few subfem & femdom ones thrown in. Anything a little stronger in terms of s&m isn't really my scene so there won't be much like that. Also please note I am NOT the author of any of the stories so the copyright notices of ALL of the original authors still apply. (Also there is nothing that I can see from the original post which says I can't repost this story. If you are the author and you do NOT want it reposted then I suggest you let me, & everyone else, know). I hope you enjoy whatever I do post. Bye for now. Anakha http://home.clara.net/anakha/index.html **************************************************************************** Subject: NEW Mortgage 7/10 (nc, m/f, f/f, bd) From: an225040@anon.penet.fi (marlissa) Date: Sun, 23 Jul 1995 14:58:37 UTC Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories The following story contains adult material. If below the age of 18, go outside, get some fresh air and do something healthy (g). If you ARE 18, then you should know the following story is about a young woman who is forced into non-consensual sex, public humiliation, and b&d, in both m/f and f/f situations. Both the characters and occurrences in this fiction are completely fictitious. The Mortgage- PART SEVEN, by Marlissa "Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on," droned the minister. The mourners nodded their heads in dutiful silence, huddling under black umbrellas as the incessant drizzle misted downward from the gray-black sky. It was a large crowd-- bank employees, business partners, golf mates, neighbors, and those who had known him in all his various guises as a pillar of the community. Robert Parker Baines had been known and admired by so many in Bentson County. The sudden heart attack that had stricken him while in the midst of a bank meeting had taken them all by surprise. Kathryn stood behind the minister, somber and thoughtful as he read benediction over her father's funeral. The recent divorcee appeared calm and in control, under the circumstances. It was her father's steely eyes that surveyed the crowd, taking an account of all who had come to pay respects. Briefly those eyes rested, emotionlessly, on Amy. She had purposely chosen an unobtrusive spot on the edge of the group, somewhat embarrassed about her attire. It would draw attention if she didn't attend the funeral of her boss Mr. Baines and there had been no time to shop for a suitable outfit. She had gritted her teeth and slipped into the closest thing she had to proper mourning garb-- a black spandex miniskirt, a form-fitting sleeveless black turtle neck, black stockings and her four inch black spike heels. The looks of the other mourners had warned her to seek a place in the back, stares that announced she was a stupid little slut who didn't know any better that to dress that way for a funeral. Kathryn had discovered her effortlessly, as if she knew Amy would be there. Their eyes locked for a moment in the space of the gray, wet air, then returned to the minister. "Robert Baines will always be remembered as a paragon, an example for others to follow. Those of you who knew him closely know that just in the last few years he displayed a love for life that was inspiring..." Memories of Robert Parker Baines flooded Amy Walenski. She tensed as the remembrance gripped her in a vise, palms flattening against her thighs. Two years ago... The 'breaking in' period. Dressing and acting to please her new boss. Learning to endure the humiliating comments of the other female employees, the subtle, then not so subtle, leers from the male workers. Learning to giggle at the filthiest jokes the males would tell, all while Baines watched. Ordered to ask advice of the male co-workers in the most intimate, teasing way possible just HOW could she make her hubby happy, anyway, and what did men like most in bed? Instructed to constantly pore over lingerie catalogs like they were riveting novels, agonizing over each potential purchase in public-- "The pink lace teddy or the red bustiere...what do YOU think, Ted?" No friends at the bank- - who would want a slut for a friend? Every spare minute away from Baines spent shopping for sexy clothes, or shaping her body with aerobics or tanning herself at the Gold-a-Rama, all to make herself look more appetizing for HIM. And the used condoms left, purposely, in the bedroom for Wendell to find the next morning when he trudged home from work. The tired, disgusted looks from an increasingdrunken Wendell in the rare moments they were together... "-- a man whose sense of propriety and Christian piety was well known to those lucky enough to spend any time with him--" Amy wanted to laugh out loud. Her eyes lost focus as the scenes played out in the cinema of her mind. Twenty-one months ago... The 'rules' period. Baines laying down very explicit dictates that Amy must obey to the letter. Doing the "four to eight," that was the way Amy was taught to think of it. It referred to the way she would walk from now on. "Imagine you are standing on the face of a clock, Amy," his polished voice instructed, "now make sure with every step, you swing your hips first to the four o'clock, then with the next step to the eight o'clock." The result-- an exaggerated pivot that was designed to communicate an attention- inviting sultry saunter. Other posture rules. Whenever standing, feet no closer than two feet apart to give her an overly "available" look, accentuated by her ever-present hip-hugging miniskirts. Lips to be kept wet and slightly open at all times when not speaking, giving her an arousing if somewhat stupid facial expression. When in the presence of any man or men, eyelashes to bat three times a minute while looking directly at the male speaker. Amy was only permitted two expressions now-- an ecstatic, flirty smile or a pouty frown, depending on the situation. One palm to be kept on her hip at all times when standing or walking, the other to clutch a pencil and notepad, unless performing a special errand for her superior. Chest to be thrust out at ALL TIMES like a military school cadet. Clothing rules. All new clothing to be modeled in the privacy of Mr. Baines' office to ensure the building of an appropriate wardrobe. All shopping restricted to either junior miss clothing or "club" clothes, giving her two alternating 'looks': the first that of a shyly suggestive high schooler in her clingy angora sweaters, poodle skirts, lacy ankle stockings and pink heels; the second that of a night club-hopping working girl on a nighttime adventure, in her leather miniskirts, see- through black lace tops, seamed black stockings and stiletto black heels. The visible pantyline rule-- no miniskirt, shorts or hot pants purchased unless the pantyline was clearly visible at a reasonable distance. All of which necessitated many clothing returns and caused the shopgirls at K-Mart to groan whenever the "clothes horse" secretary trotted into the store. Amy learning about the importance of taking her education in slutdom very seriously. Because whenever any of Mr. Baines' many rules were broken... "He was a good man, full of caring and patience-" Shame, HER shame, snapped up hard against her dwindling self-control. Her brown eyes reddened, damming back tears. A year and a half ago... Amy kneeling under Baines' desk, wearing a black g-string and high heels, her wrists securely handcuffed behind her back. Her heavily lipsticked mouth jammed against his semi-erect cock, her lips and tongue trying to coax him toward relief for the third time that afternoon. The frequent sounds of phone conversations and the tap of the keyboard as Baines tended to his executive responsibilities, even as she labored to serve his desires. Pain spiking through her nipples as he pinched them cruelly, twisting them upward, signaling his displeasure with her efforts under his desk. But the worst part, the awful reality that she was now wet between her legs, hoping she would be allowed to masturbat before the end of the day as a reward for servicing her boss with satisfactory sluttishness... "--with a respect for all people, an abiding trust in the American dream of continuous improvement based on hard work--" She should be smiling now that it was all over, but as the other mourners eyed her with disdain, all she could think of was how he had made her look to them, how fifteen months ago he had... Mr. Baines training her in new "office etiquette," Amy being taught the proper way to conduct herself in her position as Mr. Baine's personal secretary. Expected to keep her nails PERFECT, her hair PERFECT, her make-up PERFECT at all times, this ensured by the rule that when not doing carrying out a chore, Amy must file her nails, primp with her hair and re-apply lipstick and make-up at her desk, doing each at least three times an hour. Instructed to reply to any questions regarding business with the same line: "I don't get it" or "I don't understand," thus cementing the impression that if you were dealing with Amy, you were dealing with an airhead. Baine's command that she ask at least three different men at the bank if they liked her outfits and the way she dressed-- daily. The men sneering, talking down to her because of it. The embarrassing things Mr. Baines made her say and do, as if she were doing them out of free will. Like when there was a general meeting of all the employees-- that had been especially humiliating. When the head of human resources had asked if anyone had any questions, Amy had raised her hand and in front of the entire bank had asked when condom machines might be installed in the ladies room. Mr. Baines had feed her the line and laughed out loud in disgust as soon as she had asked it, her cheeks burning in shame. The way he had told her to dress for the annual bank Halloween party-- as a Playboy Bunny. The way the women kept their boyfriends and husbands as far away from her as they could and the way she had been fondled and groped through the whole evening by virtually all the bank's male employees... Mr. Baines watching impassively as she was pinched and patted on her bunny tail, as his dazed and confused secretary smiled in dumb shame. "...a wise executive whose business career was long and distinguished, a man respected by those he dealt with..." Amy's brown eyes trickling two wet beads. A year ago... Trembling, Amy asking the clerk in the Adult Novelties Shop the name and price of each and every dildo and vibrator for sale. Trying to hold back tears as she obediently wrote down the information on a pad to report back to Mr. Baines, while the scruffy clerk looked her over and slowly, very slowly, gave her the information so important to her. Mr. Baines angry, sending her back to the store the next day. How could he make a decision without knowing what colors they were available in? Her arousal almost constant now, a lusty flush on her face from morning to night for all to see... "...a man who believed in helping people achieve their greatest hopes and desires..." Amy winced, still seeing herself eight months ago... Amy sitting across from Ms. Jensen in the bank cafeteria, the woman executive Amy had invited to have lunch with her. Despite her increasingly slutty appearance and bimbo reputation, the up-and-coming Ms. Jensen had readily agreed, pleased to advise another woman how to succeed in the banking world. Amy had always admired Ms. Jensen-- her success (a vice president like Mr. Baines at only twenty-eight!), her assertiveness, her openly avowed feminism and confident attitude. And it was those qualities that had made this lunch meeting so important to Mr. Baines. Because Ms. Jensen was a rival, one that needed to be reminded of a woman's "proper place". Amy sitting across from the female executive, the rest of the bank employees filling up the small cafeteria. Smiling lamely at the woman, watching Mr. Baines, beseeching him from across the room with her eyes. DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE...but the cold slate eyes ignoring the silent, screaming plea. Ms. Jensen looking worried... "Are you all right Amy? You look flushed." Ms. Jensen's kind, worried words, the concerned look... Mr. Baines adjusting the small remote control in his hand, the thrumming of the vibrator increasing between Amy's legs... "Do you need some water or something?" The sharp young vice president more suspicious now-- was there more to this casual meeting than met the eye? Over her shoulder, her boss turning the remote up faster now... Amy's lips parted, the sigh of bliss betraying her building orgasm. The throbbing vibrator within faster and faster, Baines' laughter as she began to moan uncontrollably. The woman executive backing away in disgust. "Amy, I'm, uh, flattered, but I--" Amy bucking now, biting her slips and moaning like a slut in heat, all the time keeping her eyes locked on the other woman. The snickers from the other employees and the horror on Ms. Jensen's face as it dawned on her that they might think, the rest of the bank might assume she and Amy were, but no-- Mr. Baines racketing up the vibrator to full and Amy feeling the hot, shaming desires wetten her panties and now skirt, as the rest of the employees watched the whorish performance in mingled fascination and disdain. Ms. Jensen leaving the bank shortly thereafter amid rumors that she was a lesbian... "...a well-known and extremely generous supporter of the arts in his community..." Her arms clutched her chest, holding the brewing storm within. It was over, she had to keep remembering that, it was all over. But only six months ago... The video camera whirring as Amy cupped her small breasts through the red lace push-up bra, with a dirty smile for the camera. The yellow neon light of the cheap hotel blinking through the window. Baines muting the audio, then instructing her specifically what to do next...or else. The secretary kneeling on the gray, unwashed sheets of the hotel bed, her hands dropping to seek out the object he wants her to play with. Spreading her knees, a puckered kiss for the lens as she slipped off the red lace thong panty and inserts the impossibly long black rubber dildo into her tight, smooth bare sex. Baines clicking the audio back on, Amy beginning to moan, her performance gaining more tempo as she gyrates her hips with the huge prong driven deep between her legs. As she played for the camera, Mr. Baines offering the revelation that her cherished Sexylicious gum was actually a combination low-grade narcotic AND aphrodisiac... "A humane man, one who cared so much for others and so little for himself--" Amy was trembling as her face contorted in pain, the mascara running a black river down her face as she thought back just two months ago... Amy kneeling on the carpet, naked except for a black lace corset with garters and her stiletto heels--- and a dog collar attached to a leash held tightly by her lord and master, Mr. Baines. He was giving her more orgasm training. "Frig, bitch, frig!" Amy's fingers darted to her smooth, tight pussy, one inserting itself as the others danced lewdly around the pink, quivering lips. She was wet immediately and he gave her the reward of a pat on the head. "Good girl, good little bitch! Now STOP!" The finger popped out. "And LICK!" The finger found it's way into her mouth and she sucked it dry of her juice. It was a familiar taste by now. She knew it as well as she knew the taste of Mr. Baine's sperm. "And HEEL!" She dropped to her fours, spreading her legs and sticking her bare ass high in the air for her master. Her master mounted her from behind, penetrating Amy in the orifice least pleasurable to her, but as he did, Amy moaned and bucked. In the mirror, Baines could see Amy's dirty girl leer, her panting mouth, her hungry lips and tongue, the way the nipples on her small, pert breasts were as hard as angry red diamonds. He could feel her young body give way to his assault, accepting the large demanding rod into her tight anal channel. He rammed home hard and she cried, in pain and simulated joy, Amy's knees shaking now. He could feel it building within him, a roaring river crashing against her. He exploded within her, filling her insides with his creamy geyser. "And CUM!" Amy moaned louder, louder, louder, then arched her back in angelic release. Baines smiled and pulled out roughly, leaving the secretary panting on the floor, her ass filled with his jism. It was all counterfeit, all make-believe-- but she MUST make him believe. When he came, she must cum. He tugged on the leash and Amy looked up in fear. Had she been convincing? The whip marks on her ass were still red from having failed the last time. He yanked the leash up, patting her head and she rose gratefully to her knees. She had been a good little bitch for Mr. Baines, she thought in relief. Because she had cummed on command for him. Mr. Baines wouldn't beat her this time! She had finally done it right! Later that night, she would rethink every motion, every moan, making sure she performed her orgasm the same way next time he used her. But for now, she must force her attention on the next task at hand. She waited patiently for the next command, which inevitably followed. "And CLEAN!" With tears of relief flowing from her eyes, she gingerly took hold of the soiled cock and began to make love to it with her mouth, her slut secretary mouth... "And above all, Robert Baines was a kind man, a gentleman without an evil thought in his entire being, who left his mark on everyone he touched...." Self-disgust gripped Amy as she choked hoarsely on salty tears. Just two weeks ago... Sweat beading on Amy's forehead as the expert worked below, her brain spinning with desperate curiosity and dread. The nerves in the delicate flesh twitching, tickling with each tease of the deftly wielded metal tip as it danced over her skin. Baines cupping her chin, her weak, slutty smile back at him begging for approval. "This is the way it must be." Her submissive, accepting nod. The body painter finishing, giving Baines a nod. "Look." Amy looking down between her legs, the small space above her pink lips eternally adorned with a tattoo of a throbbing heart. It's center filled with one word: "Bimbo." Baines comforting her: "Don't worry, pretty girl. You'll STILL be able to wear your thong bikini for me..." In Part Eight, Amy begins a new life and then is reunited with an old friend... -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /