The sun shone brightly in the neighborhood as I made my way door-to-door. The sun on my face felt too hot. It had to be in the 80's that day. I could even feel the sweat making my clothes stick to me, okay - maybe a little too hot. I made my way from one door to another. I sell alarm systems; a little peace of mind for home owners in uncertain times. How much is safety worth to you and your family?
I reached the end of the block when I came to it. The old three story house that looked like it shined in the hey-day of the 30's or 40's, now all but a dilapidated old wreck of a house. I bet this would have made a good movie-set for one of those "slasher-who-comes-for-you in-your-dreams" horror movies. There was even old broken shutters hanging from the hinges over the windows. As I walked up the concrete tiles toward the front door, I swear I could feel eyes watching me approach. The old oak door held an old brass knocker that creaked when I lifted it. I set my breifcase down.
"TOCK! TOCK! TOCK" I rapped on the door. I didn't think I knocked that hard, but the impact made my spine jump. I waited for a minute, but no one answered. I reached for the door-knocker and tried again. I tried doing it more gently this time, but again, the impact was loud and I caught myself even grinning a little from scaring myself twice. I waited a few moments more and decided to walk away. There was obviously no one home as I turned and -
"Yes?" came the voice that startled me from behind. I didn't even hear the door open as I turned and saw the older man. He must have been about 60 or 65 maybe. He was heavy set, I'd even say fat and I swear that he was my height or better. I'm 6 feet myself... He was dressed simply: a white collared shirt and a pair of tan slacks that didn't do much to hide his weight - I'd say about 250 or better. He had a full head of hair that salt and peppered between browns and greys. He looked like he'd at least been a powerful man once, but now seemed to be enjoying a quiet retirement. He looked imposing enough, though, for me to have to choose each word I said carefully.
"What do you want?" He said, snapping me back from my startled state. "Good afternoon," I said, "I'd like to talk with you about the safety and security of one's home in these days of high crime." He looked me up and down and shifted his weight so he was leaning against the door frame. "Yes", he said, indicating I should continue. I went into my sales pitch, and I could feel his eyes on me. I swear I'm not gay or even a little bit curious, but I swear he was sizing me like a piece of beef. His gaze through his clean shaven face gave no indication one way or another if he was even interested in my company's sales pitch. He then asked me if I would like to come in and talk further, maybe a cold drink on such a hot day. I wasn't sure at first as he motioned with his right hand to walk in past him and into the house. I looked past my right shoulder and the wavy lines of heat that distorted the hot ashphalt of the street persuaded me to take him up on that drink. Even if I didn't make a sale, it would be good to get out of the heat at least for a little while. I walked past him and caught the scent of an old cologne that old men wear. It almost smelled of musty house and sweat.
The interior of the house looked pretty much as I thought it would have as I made my way past the hallway and entered the parlour he beckoned me to. Old woodwork on the walls and even the old redbrick fire-place showed it's age, albeit in great condition. A house like this fixed up wuld sell for a fortune these days. He motioned for me to sit and I picked the satin couch closest to me as he made his way to the kitchen, saying something about cool lemonade.
I decided to take a deep breath and relax. Why was I so nervous? Here was this lovely older gentlemen who probably lived alone with his wife; his children all grown and gone. I looked around the room at the pictures, some recent, some looked like they were taken when black and white cameras were the only thing available. I wondered where the wife was.
He returned a moment later with two tall glasses that were already condensing the moisture of the cold yellow lemonade inside. He set the glass on the old coffee table in front of me and took a seat on the matching loveseat across from me. I lifted the glass and took my first sip - sweet, though a little bitter, and set the glass back down. I reached for my breifcase and forgot that I left it outside when I'd first knocked. "Excuse me," I chuckled,"I must have forgotten it outside." He smiled. "That's okay," he replied, "Why not finsh your drink before we get down to business." Sounded good to me.
I introduced myself to him, and he gave his name as Thomas. I continued to sip on the lemonade casually. Thomas said he was widowed and lived here alone. He had been in the Service years ago, but now was retired and lived on the meager pension that the military paid him. He told me he hadn't thought much about a security system, but now that I was here, that he would hear me out and then decide. I found myself talking casually to this old gent like we'd been friends for years.
"Now then," he said, "Why don't you retreive your briefcase and we'll get to business..." I swear his words echoed in my ears as I stood up like we were standing in an auditorium. I took a few steps and the room began to get fuzzy. "Whoa," I think I said,"Must have gotten up too fast." He smiled and rose to his feet as if to help me. "Not to worry, young man," Thomas said, "The drug acts quickly." It took me a moment through my increasing haze to register what he had said. I began to get scared and flailed my arms about to try and get a grip on something before I hit the floor. Thomas stopped short of grabbing me. His words boomed like they were being played in slow motion. "Take it easy," he said, "you'll feel much better in a little while." I vaguely recall the impact of the shag carpet.
I never really lost conciousness - I just felt like I was weightless. Hundreds of different sensations floated in around my head. I was never really clear on what - if anything - I saw. By the time the haze cleared I realized I was someplace dark. Judging from the light creeping through a crack above me I decided I must be in a cellar, or some kind of basement. It was still too dark, and my eyes hadn't yet adjusted. My body felt strange - like my clothing wasn't my own. I ran my hands down across my chest and then my waist and felt nothing like I remember wearing a while ago. I could feel something on my face that felt like a cobweb, but trying to brush at it did nothing, and it kept falling against my face. My feet even felt strange, like they were forcing my toes to point.
A clunking noise preceeded the room filling with a brilliant bright light shining in my face. Through squinted eyes I could now tell I was wearing a dress - blue, I think, and judging by the feeling against my skin, I was wearing tight underwear too. The satiny feeling against my thighs suggested panties. Why the hell was I wearing panties?? I checked my head again, and the webby feeling turned out to be long hair - maybe a wig. I tried pulling at it, but it hurt - how could that be?? I have short-cropped hair.
Thomas' voice whispered from somewhere on the other side of that bright light. "It's attached with theatrical adhesive - spirit-gum," he said. I didn't know much about spirit-gum, but it sure hurt when I tried to pull the hair off. "What do you want?" I said, trying to hide the fear in my voice. "Why'd you do this?? Are you nuts??" "No," he replied in a very calm voice "...just horny." "Oh my God!" I thought to myself. The picture of what was happening began to form in my head. Thomas' massive form walked into the light, and he was cast shiloutted against it, swaying back and forth between my sight; blocking and then blinding me. As my eyes meekly adjusted, I could tell that he was still dressed. Small sigh of relief on my part. I decided to act brave. "Fuck you," I shot boldly, my voice only breaking once. "Whatever you're trying to pull here, I don't want any part of it - I'm not even gay!!!" I forced myself to my feet and took a step towards Thomas, hoping to intimidate him. He pulled a revolver from behind his back and, though not pointing it, made his point. Hre chuckled. "Neither am I," he stated, "but every now and then I like a little spice." He reached to a switch on the wall and the bright light was gone, replaced by even lighting around what appeared to be a small cold-cellar where you would store preserves - maybe it was a storm cellar.
"Now then," he said, "are you going to be a good girl?" His statement made me look down and I was indeed wearing female clothing. A bright blue dress, I wasn't sure what formed the breasts in the girdle (I dunno - I felt a pressure around my waist and deduced), but I had breasts. I looked at my legs and saw I was wearing panty-hose and the toe-point were a pair of high-heels - also blue. I looked at the gun, and back down at my clothing. I could feel the fear welling deep inside, and I think I could feel a tear on my cheek. What choice did I have? "What do I have to do?" I asked. "Anthing I tell you to." Thomas replied. I was getting more scared.
He motioned with the pistol that I should come closer to him. I took a few hesitant steps and stopped about a foot away. Already I could smell the musty cologne again. He motioned downward with the gun and I lowered to a seated position. "No," said Thomas, "on your knees." I rose to my knees with my hands at my sides as he touched the back of my head and drew my face into his crotch. He began rubbing my face up and down the front of his slacks. He wasn't yet hard. He began to moan as I felt the still-soft organ rub up and down my cheek. From the corner of my eye I watched the pistol in his hand as he used it to balance himself against the wall. It took a little while for him to stop but he seemed happy with himself. He beckoned for me to walk ahead of him. I took a step to go past, and he stopped me and told me to go back to my knees. I went down again and his hand shoved me to the floor so that I was on an all fours position. He ran his hand over the seat of the dress, and I could feel him begin to lift the dress. Oh my God - what was he going to do? He let the material fall against the small of my back, exposing my rear to him. I didn't dare look at him and waited for what was to come next. "I want to see the little girl's ass wiggle," he said wickedly, "now crawl..." On all fours I crawled thru the musty basement and over to the steps. He said to keep going as I made my way up the stairs leading into a kitchen.
We stopped in the kitchen and he picked up a jug of water from the table. He put it to my lips and I tried to use my hands to steady the forced liquid. He pushed my hands away and I began to drink... and drink.... and drink. I thought I was drowning as the last drop poured from the jug into my mouth. I gasped as it emptied. I looked down at my chest and saw that not all of it made it in my mouth. He scowled. "You've gotten your pretty dress all wet," he snarled. "We'll have to deal with that." I shuddered at the possible meaning as I was forced back down to my knees and made to crawl again.
We went through and stopped at the parlour I'd seen when I arrived. He sat back on the couch - the first seat he'd taken when he'd lured me into his trap. He exhaled as he relaxed and I was still made to kneel facing him. He saw my eyes water and he frowned. "Awww - aren't you having a good time on our date?" He chuckled. "I know," he said, holding up the pistol to exaggarate an epiphany. "You can dance for me!" "What??" I retorted. "When I was a younger man, I used to enjoy going out to the burlesque houses and watching the girls dance. Why don't you put on a show for me?" The wrists tightened and raised the revolver. He motioned toward a radio and said "Go find us some music." I crawled over to the stereo system that looked like it came out of the sixties and quickly looked over the controls to figure out how to turn it on. The dress made crawling cumbersome, but I found myself adjusting it so it would stay straight. What was I doing??
I turned the tuning knob and found several stations playing modern music, but he held up his hand to halt me when I reached a station playing cheap disco music. It sounded like a soundtrack from a cheap porno-movie. He used the gun to motion me to stand. "So, you want to me to do what, dance?" I said, not sure of what he was intending next. "Yes," he replied, "pretend you're a stripper and show me how exotic you can be." I began to move, awkwardly at first, but found that I was getting more used to the music. With the pulsing beat and the heavy bass, I swayed my hips, lifting the dress. I discovered I was wearing one of those girdles with the support wiring in the back. It was one of those that snapped up at the crotch. It would be like one of the ones your mother wore to church on Sunday - I still didn't know what kind of panties I was wearing. I was beginning to feel very self-concious but kept dancing. I moved towards him and pretended to lap dance for him. He was beaming a grin at me and kept staring at my hips and jiggling ass. I was so humiliated - and horny - wait - what??!?!?
When his show had ended he ordered me back to my knees and then led me to a steep red-carpeted staircase leading to the upstairs. My wrists and my knees were beinning to protest the crawling as we made our way up to the second floor. We arrived at a white wooden door, and he opened it and made me crawl inside. It was very plush inside. The old wood looked unkept and even dingy, even the tall four-poster bed looked antique. He walked past me and sat on the edge of the bed. With one finger he curled a 'come here' and I crawled over and knelt beside him. He pulled at the back of the hair, still stuck to my scalp, and I rose in pain. He reached on the bed and picked up a silk scarf. "Put your wrists together." he ordered and I did and presented them to him. He wrapped the material aroud and around my wrists, nearly too tightly. He then tossed the pistol aside. "Won't be needing that now," he said smiling. He pulled at my wrists and over then across his chubby legs. As I laid across his lap, he maneuvered his shoed foot between my arms and forced them, and me to stay in place. He intends to spank me, I realized.
The shock of the first one cracked across my ass as he hit me with an open hand. I think I was too shocked even to yelp. He struck me again - the second one caused me to spasm and struggle against his foot. He was more powerful than he looked because my struggles were fruitless. "No," I heard him say, "This won't do. I want you to call me Daddy," He said. "Fuck no," I shot back "I want you to let me go, and I might even not tell the police!!!" Another sharp slap across my ass, harder this time made me whimper, and I think I started to cry. "You're going to call me Daddy," he said again, "and I'll call you my baby Amy - understood?" Yet another slap started to convince me. "...and maybe you'll live through this..." That last statement frightened me deeply. "Yes...." I began - "...Daddy." "Good girl," he responded, "Tell your Daddy how much you appreciate your punishment for getting your dress all wet." As he said this, I could feel his hands at my crotch. His probing fingers forced my thighs to part, and I could feel him unsnapping something. The material released around my crotch, and then I felt him pull at the panties I felt earlier, tearing them. The air my ass felt when the flesh tasted the air did nothing to calm the stinging pain. But it was the weirdest thing - I felt my cock hardening. He obviously felt it too, because he maneuevered his legs open and my genitals fell between them. He snapped his legs closed and my cock was trapped between his thighs.
SMACK!! "One, Daddy - may I have another??" came the blows to my now exposed crotch. We reached about twenty more like that and he stopped, his breath deep and quick. My ass stung and it must have been bright red because he said it felt really warm to the touch. He made me stand and the dress fell about my knees again, covering my nudity. My erection tented the material of the blue dress. He then told me to lay on the bed, facing upward. I crwled up on the big queen sized. The soft material of the blankets comforted my sore cheeks. One by one, he tied my arms and legs spreadeagle. A queen sized bed makes you stretch pretty far, and I could feel the stretching in my hips and shoulders. I was now completely helpless on his bed, and I think my cock was starting to enjoy it. I was still terrified for my life, but becoming increasingly aroused at my attacker. When he finished tying my limbs, he tied the scarf that first held my wrists around my eyes. It wasn't completely dark, but I could even barely make out shape or form from underneath.
I heard the buzz of a zipper and the rustling of clothing. Now what? I was beginning to become frightened again. Then the musty odor filled my nose again followed quickly by a heavy weight atop me. I realized he was climbing on top of me. I began to whimper in fear. I didn't want to be molested anymore, I wasn't having fun. I was beginning to, but not anymore. I began to cry. His throaty voice whispered in my ear. "There, there, Amy - there's no reason to be afraid. Daddy loves you." I was starting to think that I might not actually live through this. "Please don't hurt me, Daddy. I'll be good, I promise..." I said through sniffles and sobs. I felt his arms envelope me and embrace me. I could now feel what I assume was his cock against my hip - gosh - it felt big. He kissed my cheek and began circling my mouth with gentle kisses and then stuck his tongue in my mouth. It tasted salty and repugnant - like old cigars, but I respoded to his kiss. I tried to mentally convince myself that I was kissing an older woman, but his moans made it difficult to concentrate.
I felt his hands explore my chest, and hips, and then I felt his snake up and underneath the dress. A large warm hand encircled my cock that was still hard, but because of fear more so than arousal. He gently stroked it up and down, then explored my testicles and crotch. I was stretched so tightly that I couldn't even struggle. I felt the release of the weight from my chest as he got off of me. I could feel the mattress jiggle as he moved around it. I was shocked when I felt the hot flesh of the tip of his cock against my face. "Nooo," I cried harder, "I don't want to do that." I felt him stab at my face, and I could even feel the skin of his belly against me as his cock tried to find my lips. I sobbed as he grabbed my head to steady it and pushed it into my mouth. The hard flesh was poking the roof of my mouth as his big hands steadied me to receive it. For an older guy, he really had stamina to spare. He thrusted and he pushed and fucked my face for what seems like an hour, but he didn't come. Mercy perhaps?
I sobbed for a few more minutes. My mouth and my jaw ached at the abuse it had just endured. The stretched pressure of my shoulders and legs ceased as he untied me. When the blindfold came off, he was indeed naked. His massive belly hung over the erection that peaked out from underneath. There was no pubic hair; must shave it regularly. He grabbed my wrists again and he cuffed them with a pair of those cheap smut-store fuzzy-cuffs. I felt my arms stretch again, this time bending over the bedframes foot-board. From over my shoulder I watching him gather some clothes line, and watching him loop it once and then again. He put the loop around my cock and scrotum, then tightened it, effectively stopping the blood in my erection - a crude cock-ring. Each ankle was then tied to either post, spreading them wide. Around the clothes-line he again closed the crotch of the girdle, and lowered the dress across my ass and down the legs. Before he left, he kissed my forehead and again placed the blindfold tightlky around my eyes. Then I let the weight of my torso rest against the bed, and then I drifted off into a sore, but deep sleep.
I don't know how long I'd been asleep, or even what day it was. Was it still the Thursday I came to this man's house? I awoke to his hands on my ass again. The snaps were undone and again my ass was exposed. Oh God, I thought, here it comes. This was the one thing I was hopin he wouldn't do. I felt fingers probe my crotch and I could feel his hands around my cock, jacking a moment like a farmer milking an udder.
"That's pretty." I heard a man's voice say. It wasn't Thomas!!! "Yeah, nice fine ass like that - make a great party toy." Said another. "Thomas?" I asked aloud. A I heard a few more distinct chuckles and laughs. How many were there??? Then it occurred to me - "Daddy?" I asked. "It's okay, precious, I just brouht some friends by to meet you."
TO BE CONTINUED