I’d been watching her for weeks, keeping track of her routine. She was such a creature of habit. I quickly came to know what time she rose in the morning and how long it took her to shower. I knew that she’d usually skip breakfast during the week, but on weekends she’d have a well rounded plate of bacon, toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, and some fruit, usually some sort of melon. It took her 33 minutes to get to work, but only 28 to get back home.
I could continue, but I’m sure you get the point. I knew her well. Likely better than she even knew her own self. She never caught on to my purpose before all was revealed, though she did look around a time or two as if she sensed someone watching. She’s so open, trusting, and naïve that I was genuinely surprised the first time I saw her lock her door.
I’ll start at the beginning, maybe you’ll see why I’ve done what I’ve done.
The first time I saw her, it was brisk and windy day. How I came to be at that particular bench waiting for that particular bus on that particular day isn’t really important. I was simply sitting, watching people and letting time pass as I waited for the bus to arrive.
Kids clung to their parents’ hands, trying not to be blown away in the wind. Old women walked with short, chopped steps, hoping not to be knocked over by its force. Men held onto their suit jackets and ladies onto their skirts. Refuse swirled about like miniature tornadoes and leaves danced in the breeze.
Behind me, I heard the distinct sound of ripping paper followed by the sounds of on old lady gasping and cans clattering to the pavement. Turning to look at the source of the commotion, I spied an old lady and a ripped bag of groceries staring down at the assortment of food products at her feet.
Then, I saw her. Her ebony hair was blowing wildly in the pre-storm winds as she bent to help the old lady pick up her groceries. Her smile as she looked up at the elderly woman was more open and pure than any I’d ever seen before. She took a bag some random guy handed her, but drew her eyes away immediately, as if shy to even be seen. I could barely hear her lilting voice over the rough winds as she conversed with the woman, never straying from the task she’d set for herself.
When she stood and handed the bag back to the lady, her eyes briefly flicked over towards me and quickly away again, her startling green eyes settling on a vacant spot on the sidewalk a few feet away from her. A slight flush crept into her cheeks as she realized her actions had been witnessed.
I didn’t play cat and mouse with her, I held my gaze on her, willing her to look at me again. Sadly, she did not. Instead, she quickly ducked her head and slipped onto the bus as it pulled up. I hesitated a moment too long and the bus left before I could board.
For the remainder of the day, my thoughts kept returning to her. I wasn’t sure what it was about her that kept calling to me, but I knew I needed to find her again and find out. I never really meant to do more than maybe ask her to coffee and hopefully get to know her.
The next day, I went back to the bus stop at the same time I’d been there the previous day. I arrived early and sat through 2 different buses, hoping to catch her. I remained patient. After all, I was earlier than the episode from yesterday. She didn’t disappoint.
She appeared at the edge of my sight as if by magic. I didn’t even see which direction she came from. Though there was room on the bench, she didn’t sit. Instead, she stood a little bit away from the handful of people. She pulled a book out of her purse and began to read, never looking up from the book once to see who was around her.
I used the time to study her a bit more closely than I had the previous day. Her dark hair was lightly wavy and nearly to her shoulders. She kept it tucked behind her ears as her head was bent, reading. Cords stuck into unobtrusive earbuds trailed down from her ears. Those stunning green eyes of hers were focused intently on her book; her thin fingers positioned to hide the title from view. She was slender and slightly above average in height. And though she was not a supermodel, she was very pleasing to look at. She was wearing a dark blue uniform from a small factory a few blocks away. Her shoes were black and well suited for her job.
The squeak of the bus’s brakes alerted her and the others to its arrival.
She quickly put her book away and moved to the back of the line. Determined not to let her get away this time, I stood in line myself. I entered the bus four people ahead of her and moved towards the back of the bus so I could keep an eye on where she exited.
Let me interrupt again to say that I wasn’t meaning to stalk her. I was only trying to get a handle on how to approach her. Some women do well with the straight forward approach. Others like to have some small chit chat before being asked to coffee. I really had not planned on getting on the bus with her or following her home. But, that’s precisely what happened.
After about 15 minutes on the bus, she and two others stood as the bus prepared to stop. Afraid that I’d lose her, I followed suit, standing and moving towards the front of the bus. As we all stepped off, I moved towards the left and pulled out my phone as if I was calling someone while watching to see which way she turned.
Letting her get about half a block ahead, I followed leisurely as we entered a neighborhood of old, nicely kept houses. It was obvious that most of the houses had actually been converted into apartments. Multiple mailboxes hung in the front of the buildings and cars lined the street on either side. She tuned into one such building, going through the outer door, leaving me to wander past and casually note the building number.
I sat by a tree a little ways away from her apartment and waited for an hour or so to see if she’d come out. Seeing that today wasn’t going to be the day I’d get to talk with her, I headed back home myself.
I rose early the next morning, showered, dressed, ate, and hopped on a bus to her neighborhood. I’d seen a “for rent” sign the previous day at an apartment catty-corner from hers and wanted to get the number. I wasn’t sure why, but it felt important to do. After jotting down the number, I sat down on the steps and watched her building.
Lights came on at the same time in two different apartments, one on the first level, furthest away from me. The other was on the second level, the corner closest to me. In the second apartment, I saw a light come on in a small opaque window that I took to be a bathroom. It was still on when the lights in the other apartment turned off. Moments later, a man rushed out of the building and hopped into a car, driving off as if he were in a huge hurry.
I sat patiently as I watched for signs of her. The light in the bathroom finally turned off, only for another to come on briefly. After a few minutes, she appeared, dressed the same as she had been the day before.
I hung back as she made her way towards the bus stop. I didn’t want her becoming aware of me just yet. When I reached the bus stop, I stepped past her and sat on the bench. Once again, she was reading and listening to her mp3 player. I tried to act as if I wasn’t paying attention to her, playing a game on my phone. But, really, all I could do is wonder what she was like, how her laugh sounded, what her skin felt like.
The bus showed up just in time. I’d started to get carried away with my thoughts, so I rushed onto the bus ahead of her, brushing into her as I did. Her reaction was to cringe away, as if human contact was the last thing she wanted, even if by accident. In the process, she’d dropped her book, so I bent and picked it up. When I handed it back to her, the look of near fear on her face had my heart in knots. She didn’t know me from anyone, but I wanted to reassure her that no harm would happen while I was around.
I murmured an apology to her. Her eyes shot downwards towards the floor of the bus as she tucked the book into her arms, but not before I could finally read the title. She nodded at my apology before slipping into a front seat with her cheeks pink.
Sighing dejectedly, I found a seat further back and brooded on my faux pas. I watched and pondered this situation as she read. What was I going to do about her? I had to talk to her somehow.
I thought that since I’d bumped into her, that’d give me a good opener. It was obvious she liked to read, so maybe that could carry the conversation even further. When she stood to exit the bus, so did I. I watched her weave in and out of the pedestrians, avoiding contact with passerby as I rushed to catch up with her.
“Hey, miss…” I called out to her, but she only kept her head low and forged on ahead. I sighed and pushed a little faster. Catching up with her, I tried again, “Excuse me, ma’am?”
Her head jerked towards me, her eyes big like a deer’s. She paused her walking, but was poised as if ready to skitter away at the first sign of trouble. Her soft voice was a touch unsteady as she replied and removed an earbud from her ear, “Yes?”
“I wanted to…” I fumbled. I wanted to what? Kiss her? Crush my body to hers? Tuck the stray hair behind her ear? Take away her fear? Stalk her? What the hell was I getting myself into? “Um, I wanted to apologize again for bumping into you earlier.”
“It’s ok,” she replies as her eyes flick up towards me, then away to those passing by. She started to move as if to walk away, so I reached out and laid my hand on her arm. She physically flinched at my touch so I jerked my hand away again.
“Uh, yeah, sorry about that, too,” My eyes looked at her arm so she’d know what I meant. I cleared my throat and tried the second part of my plan. “So, I saw you were reading a book. What’s it about?”
Her head snapped up and looked at me, eyes wide and face going pale except for two bright pink spots on her cheeks. She took two steps away from me. I could even hear her dry throat as she swallowed. “I’ve really got to get to work. I’ll be late.”
And with that, she turned and hurried off. I called after her, but she didn’t bother to even glance back at me. So, there I was, left standing in the middle of the street. I’d failed. I’d never been really successful at hitting on chicks, but I don’t think I’d ever failed so completely. I’d never sent one off running before.
I figured nothing could be gained by following her to her work, so I turned and headed back towards my house. As I passed a bookstore, I stopped in, curious to see if I could find the book she’d been reading. When I told the worker the title, he gave me a strange look but went to find what I’d requested. I paid for it and headed home to spend the day reading.
I got comfortable on my sofa and pulled the book out of the bag from the store. The cover was fairly nondescript, but I figured it’d be a romance book of some sort. Wasn’t that what most chicks read? Plus the picture of fishnet thigh highs on the cover tended to lean towards that, I thought. But, when I began to read, I suddenly realized there was more to this girl than I’d ever imagined if this was what she read for pleasure.
The story pulled me into it, the author weaving a tale of lust, betrayal, and kink beyond what would be deemed the norm. It was filled with sex and bruises. Sprinkled with beatings and worshipping. I had to stop reading at least three times that day to take care of business because of the images conjured up.
So, this is what my new interest was reading while on her way to and from work. I started getting ideas, dangerous ideas.
The first thing I did was to rent the apartment near hers. It was on the third floor, but if I was right about which apartment was hers, this would be perfect and give me a better look into her place. I went ahead and set up some light surveillance cameras to keep an eye on her place when my own eyes were busy.
Then, believe it or not, I went to her work and applied for a job. I’m still not sure I was completely aware of my actions or just following instinct. But whatever the case, I soon had a part time job in maintenance. This gave me the freedom to wander around the factory, almost as freely as I wished.
Pretty soon, she got used to seeing me going to and from work when she did. I made sure that she saw me going into my own apartment building so she’d not think I was following her. I was following her, but now I had a reason. I lived near her and worked with her. Before long, she didn’t pay any attention to my presence.
I didn’t try to interact with her again. She’d made it clear that she wanted no contact, scooting away if anyone, including myself, came within a couple feet of her. So, I sat away from her and walked separately from her. I still watched her. I noticed when she changed books and would make it a point to purchase the same title and read it as well. I found that she didn’t sit with anyone at lunch at work, but would sit alone and read while she dined.
Her reading material had inspired me. I knew what I wanted from her and I had a plan. I just was waiting for the perfect opportunity to set my plan into action. My patience paid off.
Watching her house, I knew that she rarely did anything outside her home, so when she left one evening before supper, I was surprised. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair down. I had no clue how long she’d be gone, but I knew that this may be my only chance to get into her apartment.
I somewhat knew the layout of her rooms, as she tended to leave most of her curtains opened. I used the fire escape to enter her bedroom window. I stood still, still partly unbelieving that I was standing in her room. I opened a couple drawers in her dresser, my fingers caressing over bits of innocent pastel panties and matching bras.
Try as I might, I could find nothing impure about her, besides her reading material. She had no adult toys, no porn, and no lingerie. There was no ashtray and no alcohol. It didn’t even appear as if she drank caffeine.
Finally, I picked up her mp3 player from beside her bed and snuck back out the way I’d come. At my apartment, I downloaded her music onto my own laptop, tweaked them a bit with a special program I’d found, and then wrote over her tunes with my altered ones. Feeling the crush of time, I quickly made the return trip and put her mp3 player back. The only thing left to do was to wait and see if my plan would work.
I didn’t notice any big changes the first day or two. She seemed a bit distracted on the walk to and from the buses and during the rides themselves, but with her always reading, it’s difficult to judge. The first thing I noticed was a change in how she sat. Previously, she’d sit a bit hunched over, head down and her nose buried in her book. Now, she was sitting up straighter, shoulders squared off a bit. It was an interesting change. Not exactly what I’d had in mind, but was a start.
The next day, I noticed that she had taken a bit more time with her appearance than usual. Her hair was brushed better and it appeared she may have even had on a light layer of makeup. Indeed, her standing posture had changed somewhat. No longer was she hunkered away from the group. She was still standing apart, but she stood taller. She had a look of confidence about her. But she still listened to the mp3 player all the time as she read.
Watching her house that night, I couldn’t help but smile to myself as it became quite obvious my recordings were starting to work on her. When she got home, she opened all of her curtains and stood by her bedroom window for a moment as if unsure of what she was doing. She moved away and, turning her back to the window, changed out of her work clothes into a simple robe.
She then moved to her living room. Sadly, I didn’t have that great of a view of that room from where my apartment was, but I could see enough to see her curl up on her sofa and begin reading her book. I was slightly disappointed that she wasn’t listening to her music. I’d hoped she would listen to it all the time, so the subconscious suggestions I’d incorporated into her music would work that much faster. But, seeing as I’d noted some changes already, I didn’t fret about it.
I did, however, take another chance. The next day, I called in sick to work. While she was gone, I spent the day in her apartment, rigging up small cameras in each of her rooms. I was tired of not being able to see her and her activities properly. I still didn’t have full coverage of her place, but I’d be able to see the majority of her movements unhindered.
That evening proved to be a nice treat for me. I watched as she, once again, came inside her apartment and moved directly to her bedroom to change into her robe as she kept her back to the window. That was okay, though; I had other views to watch from now.
She left her mp3 player on her bedside table and settled on her sofa again to read for a while. She was so still and quiet that I thought she’d fallen asleep until I noticed a slight movement between her legs. Focusing the camera in a bit better, I could see she’d slipped her hand between her legs and was rubbing at herself as she read.
I continued to watch as her hand started moving faster and her book fell away to the side. Though my cock was straining against my jeans, I held back from touching myself, I simply wanted to watch her enjoy her own body this time. And enjoy herself she did. I gazed at her with wonder as her back arched and her lips parted, her eyes closed in ecstasy. Within moments I witnessed the shuddering of her body as her climax rippled through her.
She lay absolutely still for a moment and I was afraid she’d passed out until I saw her slowly pull her fingers from between her legs and give her fingers a confused look. I held my breath to see if she’d continue to follow my secret orders. But, instead, she rose and went into her bathroom and I watched as she washed herself off.
Of course I had no real way of knowing for sure, but I like to imagine this was due to my secret suggestions that played in her ear all day, every day. I was overjoyed that this much of it had worked in such a small amount of time. I couldn’t wait to see if everything else would, too. And, I started getting ideas of what else I could try.
I rose early the next morning to watch her get ready for work. I watched as she laid out her clothes for the day. And then again as she went through her morning routine in the bathroom; showering, brushing her teeth, drying her hair. When she started dressing, she paused and gave her underwear a curious look before bending and putting them on. She repeated the same with her bra, pausing to think about what she was doing before finally pulling it on and snapping the closure. Almost as an afterthought, she quickly applied a touch of makeup and brushed through her hair once more before heading out to work.
The day at work was fairly uneventful until lunch time. I saw her reading at the table alone, as usual, but noticed she was moving her legs, her thighs rubbing against each other rhythmically. My eyebrows rose as I watched her breathing and could tell that she was actually using her legs to masturbate there at the break room table. I glanced around, but no one noticed her. She had done such a good job of fading into the background all her time here it was almost as if she were invisible now.
Suddenly, she rose from the table, put her book away and disposed of her half eaten lunch. I followed behind her, acting like I was headed to the maintenance office, tool belt hitched and pace brisk. I passed her as she stepped into the women’s restroom.
It just so happened that I had a work order to fix a locker in the women’s room that was stuck. I waited until I heard the bathroom stall door close, glanced around to be sure I’d not be noticed, and stepped inside.
She was being quiet, but I could still hear the sounds of her fingers rubbing against her wet slit and her muffled whimpers of pleasure. Instantly, my cock pushed against my pants, trying to burst free as my innocent prey pleasured herself mere feet away from me. It was almost more than I could stand as I stood there listening to her orgasm softly.
As her sounds quieted and returned to normal, I moved away from the stall and pulled out my tools to work on the faulty locker. When she stepped out of the stall and noticed me standing nearby, she turned a deep red and looked almost as if she were about to flee back into the stall. I kept my attention on the locker and let her believe I was clueless to what just occurred.
I could tell she was uncomfortable at the bus stop. She glanced up at me from her book a couple of times, her eyes flicking towards me for a fraction of a second before returning to her book, but never said anything. I wondered what she’d say if she knew I was the reason for her recent changes, that I’d altered her music to slowly sink into her subconscious. That she was listening to it for hours on end didn’t hurt either. The more exposure she got, the better the hypnotic-like suggestions should work. If it all worked properly, there would be no mistaking it. All I could do was wait and watch.
Once at home, I settled into my spot again to watch her through the monitors I had set up. As always, she went straight to her room to change. She still kept her back to the window, but as I watched the screen, I saw her hands start to caress along her body as she removed her shirt and bra. Her fingers lingered on her nipples, brushing over them experimentally before giving them a slight tug.
Down her waist her hands traveled undoing then pushing down her pants and panties. Her hands slid over her rounded hips and down along her legs as she removed even her socks. As she stood back up, her finger tips dipped within the junction of her legs, hidden behind her lightly furry mound. She moaned quietly as her fingers danced against her dampened flesh until she gasped with release.
As if in a daze, her fingers lifted towards her mouth, barely brushing along her lips before her tongue peeked out to flick along a finger tip. Something must have startled her because she jumped suddenly and jerked her hand away. She sighed (with either frustration or confusion I couldn’t tell which), grabbed her robe, and went to clean herself up.
I chuckled to myself about her reactions as I watched her travel from her room to the living room. She turned on her television and settled on the sofa with her book as it would seem would be her habit. I kept one eye on her as I prepared my supper, wondering when I’d be able to take the next step.
Things went like this for the rest of the week, about three days, I guess. Every day at her lunch break she’d head to the restroom to lock herself into a stall as she masturbated. And every day I’d be standing there when she came out. She’d blush deeply and quickly return to work, never daring to meet my eyes.
At the bus stop, her cheeks would be pink as she pretended not to notice my presence. I also pretended not to notice her, no need in making this more difficult on her. The sooner she came to the realization of what was occurring on her own, the better.
By the time we got off the bus, she seemed to have forgotten the incidents of the week and walked with a carefree manner to her apartment. I hoped I’d not pushed too far by letting her see me in the restroom each time she came. Scaring her off was not part of the plan.
I loved watching her undress after work. Finally, she took it a step further and faced the window as she shed her clothing, caressing herself to climax as the sunlight poured in through the window and highlighted her body. I exercised self-control as her moans filled my ears, watching her body quiver with orgasmic pleasure.
Watching her lay back on her sofa for a repeat performance an hour later was nearly more than I could stand. Her moans rattled deep from within her as her hips circled, pressing upwards towards her fingers. Her robe was thrown open and I could see the moisture clinging to her hairs as she lay there, spent and dazed in the afterglow of her climax.
Over the past couple of days, she’d stopped pulling her fingers away from her mouth and seemed to start enjoying tasting herself on her fingers. It appeared that she liked exploring her body, moving from only rubbing on her clit to pushing a finger, sometimes two, deep inside her. Her moans were louder, deeper, even at work, though I could tell she tried to be quiet. And the way her body moved told that she loved how the sensations felt.
After a good night’s sleep, I thought I’d give her a special treat. I wasn’t sure how she’d react. It was one of those things where she very likely could freak out. Or maybe she’d love it. I wasn’t sure, but I had to risk it. I took an unlabeled DVD in a blank case, put a note on it and left it at her door, hoping she’d find it before Monday when she left for work.
I waited patiently for a couple of hours while she went about her apartment in her open robe, lightly cleaning things. It was nearly torture to watch her take breaks from her household duties to bring herself to orgasm. But, I couldn’t fault her. After all, she was doing exactly what her playlist was telling her to do.
Finally, she closed her robe and opened her door to check the mail, nearly stepping on my package. She picked it up, read the note and looked around the empty hallway. When she slammed her door shut, I thought at first I’d made a huge mistake. I watched as she put her back to the door and read the note again.
“I know what you are and I know what you want,” She read the note aloud to her empty apartment, once again looking around her and even looking out the peephole in her door. She turned the DVD case over in her hands, examining it, but there were no markings.
She walked to her living room window and looked out at the street, but, obviously no one was there looking back up at her. Finally, she put the DVD into the player, not bothering to sit. I’d burnt the DVD myself and had it starting mid-scene, with no introduction and no fluff. I couldn’t really see her screen, but knew she had an eyeful of a girl tied to a spanking bench, her red ass pointed at the audience and her whimpers ringing out as she got whipped.
I smirked as I heard her deep moan and watched her body give a sudden small jerk and shudder. She gasped and looked down at her own body. As my eyes followed where she looked, I could see moisture seeping down her leg. Her face blushed deeply as she realized she’d come without even touching herself.
Once again, her eyes darted around and I had to wonder if she didn’t know if she was being watched. She seemed to nearly look straight into my camera at me, causing me to hold my breath until she looked away, her eyes travelling the rest of the room.
She moved as if to turn off the DVD, but then simply slid onto her sofa and began to push her fingers into her wetness as she watched the movie. She moaned over and over as her fingers were lost within her folds. Briefly, her hands would roam up to her breasts and grab at them, experimenting with the sensations, pulling and pinching at her nipples before slipping her fingers back inside her wet cunt.
Finally, she let out a loud groan of delight and lay still, her thighs glistening with her fluids and freshly cleaned fingers lying on her chest. I watched her as she slept off her bliss, happy to see she’d received my gift so well. Perhaps it wasn’t too soon for more.
I decided to risk a bit more. Sadly, it meant leaving my live-feed behind for a bit. I hoped she’d not do anything of interest while I was gone. I quickly gathered what I wanted and went to one of those messenger/delivery places. After talking with the manager about what I wanted and how I wanted it done, I traveled back to the apartment to wait, watch, and see how things unfolded.
When I checked on her, I could see she’d finally gotten up and fixed herself some lunch and was reading even as she ate. She looked up, perplexed as her doorbell rang. Tying her robe closed, she peeked through the viewer, stepped back and opened the door for the delivery man. I could only hear his muffled speech while she asked if she needed to sign for the package and whom it was from. The man mumbled some reply and left.
She set her package down on the table and looked at it for a few moments before opening it. I watched her face as she realized what it was she was looking at. She pulled the small non-piercing nipple jewelries out and opened the note behind them, reading it aloud.
“Put these on and go to your bathroom mirror. There, you will stand and admire what you see for five minutes. If you look away, this ends then.
If you do not want to continue, simply put this box outside your door.
You have two minutes to comply.”
I saw her glance towards the clock on her wall above her table and then around the room once again as she had done earlier. Still holding the jewelry, she repeated her trip to the window and studied the street for a few moments. She even looked at the surrounding apartment buildings.
I could hear her sigh through the audio as she turned and quickly walked to her kitchen, setting the timer for six minutes. She pulled open her robe and then dipped her head some as she put the jewelry on her nipples, sliding the clasp up to grip her nubs tightly. I had to grin when she moaned at the sensation. I was nearly mesmerized by the swaying of the ornaments hanging from her breasts as she walked to the bathroom.
She did exactly as she’d been told. She stood in front of her mirror, her eyes never once leaving her reflection. I could see her cheeks flush as she took in the sight of herself. Her fingers toyed with the dangling bits a little. She strummed across them as if they were guitar strings, and then even pulled on them experimentally.
Her eyes darted towards the kitchen for a moment when the timer on her microwave went off, then back to her reflection. With a sigh, she left the room, leaving the jewelry on. She picked up the note and reread it, looking once again around her.
I let her wonder for a while, watching her reactions. She finally settled back on her sofa to read for a bit. I found it interesting to watch her free hand wander along her body, sometimes playing with the dangling nipple jewelry, sometimes slipping between her thighs to caress at her folds. As I watched, I placed a phone call, scheduling the next delivery. She made it very difficult for me to follow the conversation as she played with herself, climaxing half way through my call.
Thirty minutes later, she was jolted from her nap as her doorbell rang once again. Tying up her robe, she opened the door and accepted her next package. It was heavier and larger than the last and she juggled it a bit as she carried it to the table and sat it down. After opening the box, she lifted the note off the top of the bundle, her eyes widening at the assortment of items below. I saw her swallow dryly as she prepared to read.
“Before you read any further, lose the robe. Then make sure your door is locked” She set the letter down, removed her robe, folded it and laid it on the table top next to the box before walking naked across the room to check the door. Satisfied it was locked, she went back to the table, continuing to read.
“Next, you will put on the items in the box; one on each wrist and ankle. Then, you will kneel where you are, hands behind your back. There are clasps. You will connect ankle to ankle and wrist to wrist. Do not worry; they are simple hooks that will not stick. You will stay kneeling for five minutes. Do not stand before time.”
She looked up at the clock and back down at her items.
“Once again, if you choose to not follow through with it, simply put the box outside your door. You have two minutes to comply.” She finished the note and set it aside.
Her fingers traveled over the material of the cuffs in the box. I’d chosen to go with a strong weaved material instead of leather or metal. I didn’t want to intimidate her too much. After all, she was following orders of a complete stranger and having her unduly scared was not part of the plan. I watched as she pulled them out, one by one, and examined them.
Giving a look over her shoulder to her window, she turned back to the thig cuffs and put each on. I watched as she lowered herself to the floor next to her table, her ass resting back on her feet as her hands reached behind her to connect the clasps on her ankles. Then she hooked the clasp on her wrists and began watching the clock. I couldn’t help but to admire her obedience. She did not question, simply followed as she was told. Her door was locked and the cuffs unhooked easily, so she was reassured that she was safe.
As I watched her, I noticed that her breathing became more even. I watched as her face relaxed and her eyes closed. I wanted to reach through the screen and caress her peaceful face. Better yet, I wanted to do that in person, but knew this was not the time to approach her. Instead, I gazed at her perfect beauty as she sunk into herself.
We were both rudely jolted out of our thoughts when a car alarm on the street went off. Her eyes snapped open, her back becoming rigid instantly before realizing what was occurring. I saw her look up at the clock and checked my own. More than five minutes had passed, but I wasn’t complaining.
She stood and looked around as if lost for a moment before reaching for her robe, but pulled back as her fingers brushed the fabric. Instead, she walked to her sofa and reclined, beginning to read again. I watched as she’d look at the clock then at her door. She finally seemed to give up and went to the kitchen to fix supper. I took the opportunity to call the messenger service to set up one last delivery for the night.
She had just finished washing her dishes as her doorbell rang again. She started across the room, and then turned to grab her robe. Slipping it on, she answered the door once again. With a nervous smile, she set the package on the table and opened it. She picked up one end of the rope in the box and gave it a confused look before grabbing up the letter to read.
“It’s time for you to get some sleep. Yes, I know it’s early, but it may take you a while to get situated so I want you to get an early start. You’re allowed to grab one pillow, but that is it. No blankets for you tonight. No clothing of any sort either. And… no touching yourself. You will tie the rope to the foot of your bed and attach it to both of your ankle cuffs. And there you will sleep, on the floor at the foot of your bed. You are not to get up until morning. So, I’d suggest taking care of anything that needs to be done before you lay down. As before, if you don’t wish to continue, put the box outside the door. You have two minutes to either start getting ready or to place the box.”
I could almost feel her thinking over her choices. She could set the box outside the door, but would anything else happen? Would that mean the end of all of this? Was that what she wanted?
Or, she could start getting ready for sleep and tie herself to the foot of her bed for some stranger and see what happened tomorrow? Not exactly the sane option, but that’s the one she chose. She removed her robe and laid it over the chair. Moving quickly, she used the restroom, brushed her teeth, and brushed her hair before carrying the rope into her room and tying it off.
She grabbed her pillow and tossed it to the floor at the foot of her bed. She sat down on the floor and tied the ankle cuffs to the rope, giving it all a short tug. None of it would hold up to major play, but I wasn’t interested in that just yet. I watched as she lay down.
I almost felt sorry for her as she tossed and turned for the first hour. I could hear her sighs of frustration and wanted to comfort her. But, I knew I could not. Not simply because I wasn’t in the apartment with her, but this was vital to the progression of things. She had to come to terms with this herself. She had to realize that she was not being forced to do this; she had the option of quitting but was choosing to do this because she wanted it.
Finally, she settled into a deep sleep. I went ahead and set up the next delivery for the next day before turning into bed myself.
It was almost comical to watch her in the morning when the doorbell rang. She jerked awake and looked around confused then started to rise when her ankle caught the rope. Thankfully she didn’t fall, just stumbled slightly before untying herself. She called out through the house that she was on her way when the doorbell rang a second time.
Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed her robe and slung it over her shoulders, barely getting her arms through the sleeves and the belt tied before answering the door. Her cheeks where flushed with the sudden activity, also probably because she was disheveled. I loved the look on her face as she reached out for the package and saw her wrist cuff was plainly in view of the delivery man.
With murmured thanks, she shut the door and went to the table. She had to move a few of the old boxes off the table before she could really set the new one down. When she opened it, I heard clearly heard her gasp. I leaned forward to watch as she set the items out on the table beside the box before reading her instructions.
“Good morning. I hope you slept well. If you do well enough with today’s challenges, perhaps you will earn a blanket for tonight’s sleep. If you fail, you will, at the very least, lose the pillow. Before you begin, you will complete your morning routine. Being well nourished, hydrated, and clean is a must. Set these instructions down now and return when you are done.”
She did exactly as told, fixing her breakfast, eating it, cleaning up her mess. She removed her cuffs and nipple jewelry and took a shower. After the shower, she put the cuffs back on, leaving the jewelry on the bathroom counter and the robe hanging on the door. She walked back to the table and read the rest of the instructions.
“Put the DVD in the player. Take the vibrator and kneel in front of your television. Insert the vibrator, turn it on and brace it against the floor. Position yourself how you were told to yesterday, including hooking the cuffs together. You will stay like that for the entire DVD. You will not touch yourself. You are free to climax as often as you need; however, you are to clean the toy with your mouth after the movie is done. You may set the box outside the door if you wish to stop. You have two minutes to comply.”
She blinked once or twice and reread the instructions before picking up the movie and vibrator. She looked them both over. I really thought she was going to set them back down, but in the end, she moved to the TV and inserted the dvd, then lowered herself to the floor in front of it.
I could hear her sigh with pleasure as she slid down over the vibrator, the quiet hum barely audible over the audio. I settled in with my breakfast as I watched her. Today’s video featured a girl tied to a St Andrew’s Cross, her naked body gleaming with sweat as the man in front of her used a violet wand on her quivering form. The squeals carried quite well and I could see that my girl was entranced with what she saw.
Her hips began to work along the vibrator ever so slightly and before long she was panting with passion as a climax ripped through her. For the next 35 minutes, her body was tortured with spasms of pleasure as she was forced to remain impaled on the vibrator. She came at least a dozen times, watching as the movie went from one scene to another. By the end, her head was lolled back and her body covered in sweat.
When the movie ended, she weakly unhooked her ankles and wrists so she could pull the vibrator from her wet cunt and turn it off. Remembering the rest of her instructions, she brought it to her lips and ran her tongue over it, experimenting with the texture and taste. Feeling a bit more confident, she slid it into her mouth and finished cleaning it.
The poor thing was so exhausted that she didn’t even move from her spot for her nap. Instead, she lay over on the floor, vibrator still in hand, and dozed off.
She was able to sleep it all off for a bit before the next messenger showed up. When the doorbell rang, she quickly grabbed her robe and slipped into it before answering the door. I was starting to think she was looking forward to the doorbell. I listened to the exchange between her and the messenger. Though I could not hear what he was saying, I knew he was explaining that he had to wait for her reply.
I watched as she turned as if to invite him in to wait, and then saw the vibrator still in the middle of the room. Cheeks red, she told him she’d be right back and shut the door before picking up the toy and placing it back inside the box.
She sat at the table and read my note to her, “You’ve done very well. You have earned two questions to ask of me. They can be anything, from a typical question to a favor. But, be warned, I may not reply. Once you have written your questions, you will pass them to the messenger, and then kneel in the middle of your living room in the manner you’ve been prescribed to before. You will stay kneeling until the doorbell rings again. As usual, you can simply send the messenger away if you opt to stop now. You have two minutes to decide and act accordingly.”
She rose, rummaged for a pen and a pad of paper in a drawer, and then sat back down at the table. I watched as she began to write, then tore off the sheet, crumple it up, and set it on the table. She repeated this process a few times before she finally wrote her two questions. She sat looking over the paper for a moment, took it to the messenger, and then knelt as told after locking the door.
Within a few moments, I met the messenger at my door so I could look over the questions she’d sent. I tipped him for his time and sent him away. The next package was already scheduled for delivery anyway, so I’d send my reply later. I sat down at my monitors to watch her as I read her note.
I wondered what other questions she’d started to ask before she settled on these two, “May I see you? May I hear you?” They seemed harmless enough questions, though not the ones I had expected. I thought she’d ask who I was, why I was doing this, something along those lines. I did like that she did not say “When may I see you?” She didn’t automatically assume she’d ever get to see or hear me.
The next delivery came in about 30 minutes. Once again, she settled at the table to open the package. She picked up the letter and read it first before even examining the contents of the box, “Inside the box you will find the items needed for your next task; razor, mirror, and shaving cream. You will take all items to the bathroom, mount the mirror on the wall of your tub, and remove your pubic hair. Once done, you will spend some time looking at your freshly shaven mound in the mirror and exploring how it now feels to touch yourself. Once you have thoroughly examined yourself, you are free to continue about your day. As before, you can set the box outside if you wish to stop now. You have two minutes to comply.”
She turned the paper over in her hands, looking to see if anything was on the back. She frowned as she reread the paper, making sure she’d not skipped over my reply to her. She set the instructions aside. Continuing to frown some, so looked through the contents of the box before carrying them off to the bathroom.
I watched as she prepared herself and the items, sticking the mirror to the wall and laying the razor and shaving cream on the edge of the tub. She removed her robe and sat on the edge of the tub. After lathering her pubes up with the shaving cream, she picked up the razor and took a light swipe over her mound, leaving behind a smooth stripe of skin.
She repeated this several times, rinsing the razor off in-between passes. Once she was completely hair-free and rinsed off, her fingers slipped over her smooth flesh and between her folds. I left her to fondle herself at her will so I could do a bit more shopping for my next delivery.
While I traveled via bus, I thought about all that had occurred, about her progress. I was quite pleased thus far. There really was nothing to complain about. She was surpassing my expectations. I’d been afraid that I’d scare her off, but so far she was sticking right with me. At this rate, my plan would be completed in a week or two.
Once back at the apartment, I watched as she went about her place, cleaning and straightening up. She put the various boxes in the trash. She put all of the instructions into a pile and put them in a folder. I watched as she paused and reread a couple of them, her fingers trailing softly over the cuffs on her wrists. Yes, she was indeed enjoying this adventure.
The doorbell startled her from her thoughts. She set the folder down and donned her robe before answering the door. As she opened her package, I could see her smile. Before she went any further, she picked up her instructions and read aloud.
“You may not see me yet. That is dependent upon your behavior. Should you behave properly, you may eventually get what you’ve asked for. However, I will allow you to hear me. You will not engage me in conversation. You will answer “yes” or “no” when asked a question. You will confirm if you do or do not understand directions given. You will keep the phone on you at all times. If I call, you will answer. I am the only one you will talk to on this phone. If you wish to stop, set the box outside the door. You have two minutes to decide.”
She picked up the cell phone and turned it over in her hands. It was a simple clamshell phone, nothing fancy. It would serve its purpose. I, on the other hand, had a smartphone. On it, I could watch a live video feed of whichever camera I chose at the time, from anywhere in the world. This hadn’t been in my original plan. However, I thought it would be nice to let her hear me, hear my directives instead of reading everything.
I decided to give it a try and see how it went, so I called her as I watched her on the monitor.
“Hel… yes?” She stumbled when she answered the phone.
“Good. Disrobe.” I watched the screen as she complied.
“Yes,” Her breath shaking from nerves.
“Kneel. You don’t have to put both hands behind your back this time.” I watch on the screen as she kneels down, hearing the sound both over the audio and the phone.
“Yes,” she replies, letting me know she’s complied.
“Good. Have you liked your weekend so far?”
“Yes,” her voice breathy in my ear.
“I see. Do you want to know what’s next?” I ask her teasingly.
“Yes, please,” she replies, barely above a whisper.
“Very well. You will put your nipple jewelry back on and retrieve your new toy. Then, you will go to the center of the living room and kneel again. Do this now.” I sit back and watch on the screen.
“Yes,” she replies as she stands to do as I told her to do. She sat the phone down as she placed the jewelry back on her nipples, and then got the vibrator before kneeling back down on the floor. She made a sound or two into the phone like she was unsure how to proceed before she whispered, “yes?”
“Ah, good. Next, you will take the vibrator, turn it on, and fuck yourself with it… While I listen,” I pause as I hear her gasp. “Yes, that’s what you will do or our conversation is over. Understand?”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice small and nervous.
“Good,” I let my smile show in my voice. “Begin.”
She whimpered as she turned on the toy. I could clearly hear the motor vibrating through the phone. I smiled as I watched her lower it between her legs, the head of the toy cock sliding over her freshly shaved mound and across her clit.
“Legs wider,” I ordered. She immediately pushed her knees further apart, her eyes darting around the room as if she suspected I was standing in the corner watching her. Close, so close, but not quite right.
She sighed with pleasure as the fake cock teased her open, slipping just inside her folds. I could see her shudder, but if it were from nerves or pleasure I was unable to tell. Regardless, she continued to lower herself down onto the shaft, moaning as it sunk into her. With small gasps, she began to ride along the length of the vibrator.
“That’s good. Do you like how that vibrator feels inside you?” I whispered in her ear.
“Yes,” she shuddered as she replied. Her body rocked gentle as she rode the vibrator. Her gasps soon became whimpers and she began writhing ever so slightly. I could tell she would not be able to hold back much longer.
“That’s it, feel it deep inside you. I bet you like that. Yes? Can you feel yourself getting closer? Feel your breathing quickening, pulse out of control, body quivering with need? Close , so close… Feel the sweat starting to bead up on your flesh as you strain to hold back?”
She was a mass of whimpers, murmuring repeatedly, “Yes, yes, yes.” Her eyes were closed, head tossed back as her hips pumped down on the toy. A bead of sweat rolled down between her bouncing breasts, the jewelry swinging in rhythm to her thrusts.
“Now,” I leaned closer to the monitor, my eyes glued on her as her body quivered with spasms of pleasure. A tortured moan of bliss poured from her as she went still. Then suddenly her whole being rocked as a deep groan of ecstasy came from within her. I let her catch her breath before I spoke. “Very good. You may stop.”
She moaned softly, the vibrator making a deep wet sound as she pulled it from her. “Yes,” she whispered, still not returned to her normal self. Her eyes opened and she held the toy up some, looking at the wetness.
“I’m waiting.” I stated calmly. She knew what she was to do; her musical suggestions had helped with that. Her eyes flicked around the room once, then brought the toy to and through her lips. I could hear her moan as she removed all traces of her juices from it. “That’s a good girl. When you are done, you are to clean up and return to your normal day. I’ll be in contact.”
With that, I broke connection. I had other things I had to see to. I’d spent entirely too much time sitting here watching her. I still had things to prepare. I took my phone with me so I could call or watch as I wanted. Now that I could contact her at will, I wasn’t as worried about being at the apartment.
I ended up leaving her be for most of the rest of the day. I knew I’d taken up a lot of her time that weekend, but I also didn’t think she minded terribly much. I looked in on her a couple of times throughout the day. At one point I saw her putting up some groceries. She was naked and had the cuffs on, so I assumed she had dressed to go out, and then undressed upon her return. I was glad to see she’d put the cuffs back on as well.
With an eye on the time, I called her one last time for the day.
“Yes?” She answered on the second ring.
“Have you enjoyed your day?” I inquired.
“Yes,” I could hear her smiling. I watched as she set her book to the side and relaxed into her sofa.
“Good. Are you tired?” I figured she was, but a little small talk is nice I guess.
“Yes,” She responded as I thought she would.
“Good, it’s nearly bed time. Sleep comes quicker if you are tired than if you are not. On the nights you work, you may sleep in your bed, unless I say otherwise, but your ankles will remain tethered to the foot of your bed, regardless. If you do not work, you are to sleep how you did last night. Understood?”
“Yes,” she nodded as she replied, her black hair bobbing softly against her shoulders.
“Good. You have 10 minutes to take care of your night time routine. Once you are in bed, you are not to get up. I’ll be in touch,” I hung up and watched her. She removed the nipple jewelry before retiring to her room for the night.
Watching her the next morning on the way to work was nearly agonizing. I watched her to see if she showed any signs of knowing it was I that had been controlling her weekend. But, she kept her nose buried in her book and her tunes playing in her ears. It was just as well, I guess. She would be ready in her own time.
The morning went on as usual and I found myself in the restroom before she even entered this time. She didn’t see me because of where I was standing, but I crept closer as I heard her start. I was hoping I’d set everything up right. I looked at my watch and smiled as I heard her phone ring. She gasped and must have jumped and hit something like a knee or elbow from the sound of pain that followed. I heard fabric moving as she rustled around trying to retrieve her phone.
“Yes?” She answered, whispering, breathless from her struggle.
I couldn’t hear the other end of the line, but I’d recorded it and set it up last night, so I knew what was being said to her. “Are you at work?”
“Yes,” she sounded a bit nervous
.
“Good. Are you in private?”
“Yes?” Confusion filled her voice.
“I see. And are you… pleasuring yourself?”
“Yes,” shame and embarrassment rang through loud and clear.
“Perfect. Continue.” There was a long pause, so long that I feared she’d not get to the point I needed her at for the next part of the recording. But soon, I heard her sigh softly in resignation.
“Yes,” she whispered as she began to masturbate again. I listened while her breathing increased and she started to whimper quietly. I looked at my watch, knowing it should happen any second.
“Now.”
I heard her voice catch before she could silence herself, small sounds of pleasure coming from her stall. “Yes,” her voice was strained with passion as her climax finished.
“Good. I’ll be in touch.”
I heard her rearrange herself and stepped back out of view before she stepped out of the stall. I could not help but smile as she washed her hands and left the restroom. It all worked perfectly.
After work, I watched again as she undressed in front of her window. She put her cuffs back on and left her robe lying at the foot of her bed. I was quite pleased with her initiative. I was aware she had work though out the week and didn’t want to sap her energy too much, so I thought a simple order for today would suffice.
“Yes?” She answered quickly.
“Did you enjoy your day?” I smirked. Of course she did, but it didn’t hurt for her to tell me as much.
“Yes.” A soft happy sigh followed.
“Good. You only have one order for the rest of the night. You are to crawl for the rest of the evening. You are not allowed to sit on furniture. You may stand to cook, but you may not sit at the table and eat. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch.” I closed the call and watched as she immediately lowered herself to her hands and knees. It was nice to spend the evening watching her ass sway as she crawled around.
The next few days followed pretty much with the same kind of theme. I’d stage a call to her at work during her lunch break. And in the evenings I’d come up with some task for her to do. One night it was to fuck herself with her toy and cum until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
Another night was to have her eat and drink everything from bowls on the floor. And yet another night was to hold certain poses for 10 minutes or so at a time.
Never did she complain. She always knew she had the option to stop when she desired. She went into this fully aware of what was occurring. Okay, except for the recordings. Those were nothing more than to open her up some, to accept what she already was, little things about her self confidence and such.
Maybe I added a few specific bits, like how she stopped wearing underwear and how she changed in front of the window. Hmm, and the parts about tasting herself after climax. Yeah, you get the point. There were certain things I added, but I’m sure she’d have done those anyway.
Anyway, things were going really well and I thought it was time for the next step. I put the box outside her door myself, and then called her once I was watching the monitors.
“Yes?” I loved how she always answered like that.
“You have a package outside your door. Go get it.”
“Yes,” she said as she started towards her room.
“No.” I stopped her. “Naked.”
She looked around the room for a moment and sighed how she always did when she knew that she was going to do something she really didn’t know if she wanted to do. “Yes,” she said as she turned back towards the door and peeked through the peephole to make sure the hallway was clear. She opened her door only enough to reach out and grab the box, quickly shutting and locking the door behind her.
“Good enough,” I told her as I watched her walk to the table. She set the package on the table and sat down in a chair. “Open it.”
She carefully opened the package, gasping lightly as the thin chain necklace was revealed. Her fingers drifted towards it, then pulled back in hesitation.
“You can touch it. Take it out,” I encouraged and she complied. “Look it over. At first glance, you will see what appears to be a normal looking clasp. Look closer. It actually locks with a special key. It is a tiny, but sturdy, lock. It will not lock automatically. You can either put it on as it is or set the box outside the door. You have two minutes to decide. I’ll be in touch.”
She looked at the phone as I disconnected the call, then back at the necklace. Her fingers trailed over the delicate links. From all appearances, it was a simple necklace. I watched as she took it to the bathroom and held it up to her neck, seeing how it would lay against her. I watched the clock and called back after her two minutes were up.
“Yes?” She answered as always.
“Have you decided?”
“Yes.” She sounded only the least bit hesitant.
“Are you going to set the box outside?”
“No.” She smiled shyly on the screen.
“You will wear it then?” I clarified, “You do understand what this symbolizes?”
“Yes,” I could almost hear her nod as she answered each of my questions. “Yes.”
“Very well. Put it on.” I watched as her fingers fumbled a bit with the clasp before it finally caught. I heard her sigh softly as it settled into place, watched her eyes close as if she were at peace. “Do you like how it feels?”
“Yes,” She responded quietly.
“Good. You have made me very proud. Thank you.” I wonder if she could hear me smile, hear the praise in my voice. “Now, it is time to sleep. Yes, it’s early yet, but that’s because you will sleep on the floor at the foot of your bed. Not because you have done anything wrong. It’s quite the opposite, in fact. I am having you sleep there because I can. Would you like that?
“Yes?” She hesitated some and I had to chuckle at her questioning response.
“You can say no if you’d like. Just keep in mind you might not like the alternative. Would you like to change your answer?”
“No,” she said more firmly.
“Then you have ten minutes to complete your before bed routine. You may use both pillow and blanket if you so desire. I’ll be in touch.”
I watched her as she went about and got ready for bed. She grabbed a pillow, but left the cover where it laid. After tossing the pillow to the floor, she tied her cuffs to the rope and settled in for sleep.
I loved watching her get ready for the day. She was always quick but thorough with her showers. Her makeup was light and well applied. And today, she opted to not wear her bra or panties to work. I was doubly surprised when I saw that she was putting her ankle cuffs back on, pulling her socks up over them, and then checked to make sure her pants legs covered them well. I smiled with pleasure. She had come so far in a relatively short amount of time.
As I followed her to work, I noted a difference in her walk, a change in how she held herself. It made me proud to look at her and see this once shy and wilted creature beam and hold her head high. I am certain I had at least a little something to do with that.
Today, at work, things went as they normally do, for the most part, until lunch time. That’s when things got really interesting and that is the source of the issue at hand. I’ll try to be brief.
I was overjoyed that she’d accepted the necklace last night. If you’ve not figured it out, it’s really meant to be a collar; a symbol of her belonging to me. Anyway, I went into the restroom before she showed up, as has became my recent habit. When she went into the stall, I moved closer and waited while she answered her phone and spoke with the recording.
“Yes?” She asks, I can hear the excitement in her voice and I bet that she’s already wet, knowing that she’s going to masturbate in a few short moments.
“Begin.” The recording is short and to the point.
“Yes,” she replies and I hear her pants as they unzip and she pulls them down some. I hear her moaning quietly. I can tell she’s trying to hold it in, but she’s not very successful at it.
“Are you getting close? Do you like playing with yourself for me at work?”
“Yes, yes,” she whimpers. I can barely contain myself outside the stall.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes, please,” her voice strained with need.
“Shall I use the key?”
I hear her gasp and choke back a small moan. “Yes, please, please.”
“Open the door.”
I hear her movement cease and her utter a confused sound. But, she does as told, the lock slowly turning, the door opening just a crack as she peeks out.
I push the door the rest of the way open and slip my fingers between her legs to rub at her hardened clit. With the other arm, I drag her close to me, wrapping my fingers in the back of her hair and whispering in her ear, “Now!”
Her arms wrapped around me and she clung to me as if her life depended on it. Her body went rigid against mine before she started undulating as wave after wave of passion crashed through her. And the sounds that came from her. Oh my god, I’ve never heard anything so raw and sexual in my life.
No wonder the security guards came running! If I didn’t know any better, I too would have thought she was being attacked. I still think they really should have ascertained the situation before they used the taser on me.
But, now, sir, you understand how it came to be that I was in the women’s room with her. I do hope you don’t fire her. In fact, you know what? I can tell by the look on your face and the way you’re fidgeting that you’re quite intrigued with this. If you don’t fire her, I’ll help you out. We won’t have to worry about the police or anything. What do you say? Let her keep her job and I’ll help you get your very own plaything.