My name is Sarah, at least that's what I used to go by prior to one of the biggest mistakes of my life. As of lately I've been answering too, Fuck toy, Fuck slut, slut wife and so on. I didn't see this coming, no way no how. I wasn't really over sexed, a closet slut, not any of that. I was however a little too nosey and a little too quick to use my fine attributes for gain.
Right now, this housewife and mother is hooded, gagged and well restrained in the confines of a wood box trying to gauge what is going to happen to my perfect married ass and pussy next. I know, you're thinking, "F...ing, seriously?" But yes, truth is stranger than fiction. While I wait here in silence, I might as well pass on my story. It's not for the faint of heart, so be warned.
Mark and I had been married eight years when out of nowhere a man entered our lives that would change my life forever. Would never have seen it coming, never. Just a single older gentleman buying a house next door, moving in and being welcomed to the neighborhood. My husband Mark and I were the first couple to venture over and welcome Paul, creating from that point on a light friendship between the three of us.
With our 6 year old son at his grandparents place for the summer in Minnesota, I found myself with extra time around the house during the days when Mark was at work. Everyone loves a mystery and soon I had one when I started noticing Paul our next door neighbor seemed to work from home and only had visitors during mid day. What was even more intriguing were the visitors. The visitors were an odd array of tall males, looking buff with lots of tattoos and young females always overdressed for the weather wrapped in layers of loose clothing as if to conceal the true shape of what lay below.
After two weeks of this my curiosity got the best of me and I hatched a plan to pay Paul a visit mid day and see for myself what this was all about.
With the old cup of sugar needed by the visiting house wife being so yesterday, my plan to get in the door would be a little more, shall we say, self resourceful. My looks have always gotten me what I wanted and at thirty two I still had it. Short jet black hair, long athletic legs, nice shapely ass and 36DD natural firm breasts that no man could say "NO" too. So that was my plan, dress in a short skirt, low cut top and make sure I was just a little bent forward as Paul answered the door as if looking closely at the flowers in the flower box next to the door. Looking back now, this is where it started, that fateful day. What a stupid plan.
Well my plan worked, at least the getting in part. Paul let me in and I looked nosey, just like a housewife, just like a nosey housewife dressed right to get in the door with the missing part of the plan being my ability to not look nosey and to have some handle on a conversation. In essence, I learned nothing and most likely tipped my cards in the process. Fifteen minutes later I was walking back to my house cursing myself for the whole stupid plan.
Five days passed and the mystery was still eating on me when two buff men showed up with one young overdressed woman with orange hair. I guess that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I had to know. So this time in my infinite stupidity I would sneak around the side and peek in the windows. This would prove to be my end, I really wish I had just thought twice about it.
I gave it about 30 minutes and off I snuck. My back up plan was going to be that I was looking for our kitten so I made sure the kitten was out and about as I begin to peek up to various windows. Oddly enough it was as if the house was empty. Shit, now a second mystery, just what I needed I said to myself. And then I heard moaning and slapping from a basement window. I quickly investigated and was shocked at what I saw.
The orange haired girl was not the frumpy dressed figure that had entered. Now with the layers removed, she was a very sexy young woman maybe twenty years old and very naked, and very tied up at the moment with the two buff men having their way with her. Meanwhile cameras were set up all around as Paul wondered from one to the other adjusting angles and heights. I'd seen enough and scurried home not knowing that I as well had been filmed by an elaborate video surveillance system. Thinking back, Duh, of course he would have this kind of a setup considering the type of porn being produced in the home, but for the moment I thought I was in the clear.
The next day at around 9AM there was a knock at the door just as I was getting out of my bathtub. I quickly scurried into a robe and slippers and headed for the door. I opened the door and there stood our neighbor Paul holding a small Laptop and not smiling. Even at this point I had not a clue and asked him in, putting on my best fake smile and letting my robe open slightly at the top as I thought it couldn't hurt to distract him just a bit. Shit was I wrong, so wrong.
Paul asked if he could discuss something with me in private in our living room and then asked I sit next to him on the couch. As we walked I started to turn on a light and Paul quickly asked I didn't do that and insisted I sit. All of a sudden the mystery was right here in my own living room and I didn't hesitate to comply. Once we sat together Paul said I needed to see something, sat the laptop on the coffee table and started what looked like a video. And a video it was, only in this video I was the star.
The video was of me sneaking around his house, looking in window after window and then eventually kneeling down and settling into a long stair into the basement window around the back corner. The video even caught me bring my right hand to my crotch; I didn't even remember that happening. Without words Paul stopped the video, closed the laptop, set back on the couch and exhaled. I felt as though I was going to faint and didn't move a muscle or say a word as I thought of all the bad that could come of this. Then Paul spoke as if he had written his words down in advance and practiced the delivery.
"You have trespassed with intent to perform what is for lack of better terms, Peeping Tom behavior. I have the option to download this to my monitoring company with your name and address. It will make the paper, your husband will think you've lost your mind and in the end you'll have no choice but to move once you're out of court. I'm going to give you one chance to make this right, one chance so you better really think about this. You know now I make custom video for those willing to pay for such films. You will repay me by modeling for me at my house for thirty days. Think of it as a thirty day contract. And don't ask what you'll have to do or what will happen to you. I will do whatever I want, period. Hell you may enjoy it. What am I saying, you will enjoy it at times whether you want to or not, that I will guarantee. We start tomorrow at 9AM. If you're not at my door by ten after, don't bother, just go get an attorney as the sheriff will be calling on you." And then Paul rose up from the couch and without looking at me let himself out the front door.
I'm not a slut, I like good sex and it was true that things had dwindled a bit between Mark and I but doing something like this would have never transpired. Hell I might have let "Earl" at the health club bend me over one of those massage tables as I know he would have loved too, but never anything like this. But I had no choice and 30 days, hell after day one, only 29 would be ahead, and so on, my reasoning, my choice. At least I would have control over how long it would last and not having my name in the local paper as a peeping tom. Again I thought, 30 days......
The next morning I shaved clean, and I mean everywhere except that little tuft above my pussy that I know Mark would miss. Although he hadn't seen it in a while, you never know. And at 9AM sharp I was knocking at Paul's door. Paul took me through the house and into the Garage. I guess I was a little surprised, after all I had prepared myself to go straight to the basement and be fucked, but no, here we were going to the garage.
As we entered the garage the mystery of why Paul's car lived outside was answered. The garage was a workshop and not for windmills. As I looked at some of the devises that appeared freshly constructed I said to myself, "You're not in Kansas anymore Dorothy." Paul just looked at me and said, "Yes, someone has to build these things and a number of years back I filled the gap. Now I can't keep up with general orders so I sub that stuff out and only build custom devises, less work, more money."
I was a bit confused and asked, "What about the basement?" Paul just laughed and said, "No sweat heart you don't get to make bondage porn in the basement", looking forward to it were you?" I flushed in embarrassment as Paul laughed yet again at his own statement then said, "So you'll be modeling here". And then he explained, "To build these things I really need a model, a real human, not a blow up doll or manikin, so you're it..... And then Paul said, "If you're good maybe you can go to the basement" again laughing at my expense and his own joke. What a fucking prick I thought to myself.