Soames's First Submissive

Soames sat up and then stood up as Ed motioned him to follow. "Remember how I told you there was something funky in this group house? You are going to be so glad you moved in, buddy." They went down the hall toward the bathroom, where Trixie, one of the women in the house was slowly opening the door. Trixie turned her pudgy face towards the guys and winked.

Soames bit his cheek. He was a little creeped out by Trixie, who was, if the term could be used, eye broccoli. She'd come on to Soames the night before...whispering "Soamesy...men tell me I have a mouth like velvet." Remembering this, Soames shuddered.

Ed had always been the shmuck in the old neighborhood, a braggart, a liar, a tattle-tale, but Soames had kept the other kids from killing him, and now things were paying off, Soames supposed, because when Soames had moved to Buttermilk Falls, Ed had an affordable room to offer him in this um, big house.

Trixie was tiptoeing into the bathroom, and waved the fellows in. Trixie pulled the soft towels off the rack and threw them over Soames's head into the hallway.

The shower was going, and Soames heard some humming, and that had to be Bronte Allen.

Soames's dick inadvertently wiggled. He'd met Bronte the night before, she was incredible. He couldn't understand why she lived with these people.

Demure, soft spoken but very bright, Bronte had killed at Trivia Night when they'd gone to drink at Gadflies N'Magpies, and Soames understood that Bronte was a professor of Romance Languages at Buttermilk U.

Full breasted, with luminous green eyes and pink-white porcelain skin, Bronte had a way about her that was oozing female pheromones.

Usually a fast worker with the ladies, Soames had had a difficult time talking with her, his mouth had dried...but she'd welcomed him to the house on Ed's recommendation.

Trixie whispered "Ed, give me your belt." The three of them were in the bathroom now, kind of crowding it up. Soames watched in amazement as Ed unlooped his belt from his slacks and handed it to Trixie.

"Uh, Ed, do you really think we should be--" Why was he whispering? Why was he in the bathroom while someone he'd known for less than 48 hours was showering?

Ignoring Soames, Ed nudged Trixie, who was looping the belt in her hand. Ed pointed at a long thick copper mane that was sitting on the toilet seat. Soames realized that was Bronte's wig...she wore a wig? That gorgeous red hair...

Trixie silently picked up the wig and lifted the toilet seat and threw the wig into the toilet and shut it.

Then, as Soames gaped, she yanked open the shower curtain, and there was Bronte, naked, steaming water rolling over her heart shaped face, her full lips and the sculpted breasts....and she was BALD. Well, there was a little five o'clock shadow on her head.

SHIT. Soames was about to spin on his heel and leave. On his second parole, Soames didn't need to be locked up again on a sexual assault charge. But Ed grabbed his arm.

Soames turned warily around, expecting Bronte to scream...and she was, but not in the way that he'd predicted...

Trixie was turning off the hot water and turning up the icy cold stream. "You little hosebag, didn't I tell you to shave your head before you took a shower? You can't grow your hair back until Mistress tells you to, can you?"

Ed turned to Soames. "Trixie was pissed that Bronte is so into her hair, so we shaved it off her head. She ain't been allowed to have hair in nearly eleven months, except for the wig when she goes to work."

"She let you both shave her head? But you are--" Soames held back from saying "Losers". But they were losers. Trixie had hideous bleached bangs, and Ed was a wussy little geek.

Once Ed had wet his pants when he, Soames and Jake The Snake were robbing a Sunoco station, and Jake had been so disgusted he'd left the till open and just gone home. "I'd shoot him Soames," Jake had said, as even the cashier had been laughing "But then we'd have to put his fat ass in a dumpster"

How could a total hottie like this be pushed around by two complete nerds?

Now Bronte was sobbing "P-please Trixie. I'm sorry, I just want to grow a little hair back, but please turn the shower off, or give me some more warm water. It's so cold. Can I just get out?"

Bronte put one hesitant foot on the carpet outside the tub and Trixie stomped it with one of her heavy Doc Martens, and Bronte, crying had retreated her foot back again. As she stood on one leg and rubbed her foot with her hands, still trying to shield herself from the Arctic feeling water, Trixie laughed derisively.

"Don't you fuck with me, Piggie" Trixie snarled. She took Ed's belt and swung it, landing a harsh blow on Bronte's naked hip.

Soames, hardened by gangs, crime and two tours in Iraq, gasped. All else aside, Trixie had some nerve calling Bronte names. Trixie had the figure of a peeled pear, and how could she call this stunning gym toned goddess anything? She should be begging for tips and advice.

The night before at Gadflies and Magpies, Bronte had eaten a small vegan salad while Ed and Trixie had split a huge dish of fries covered in cheese and chili sauce...Soames retched, remembering the crud all over Trixie's porcine jaw.

Bronte again attempted to exit the icy shower, getting both of her feet outside the tub. Trixie pulled Bronte over one bent knee and gave her twenty whacks with the belt, and Bronte, sobbing, jumped back in the shower. Her head came out one more time, and Trixie punched the heel of her hand into Bronte's chin, and Bronte once again stumbled.

Soames attempted to brush past Ed and push Trixie back, but Ed held Soames's arm. "Don't worry, dude. It's all good."

Now Trixie smiled at Soames, her watery pupils somewhat dilated behind the overdone light blue eye shadow. Soames had been aware that Ed was a junkie, but was Trixie on dope too? Why was Bronte putting up with this?

Trixie looked down at Bronte, who was now kneeling in the shower, her mouth a little bloody and shivering as the water pounded on her back and her full breasts.

Look at those soft nipples, Soames thought. God, she's so amazing.

"Master Soames wants to take pity on you, Piggie. He thinks I'm being mean."

"You're on your way to jail, Trixie, I've seen grown men get a nickel-dime at Felgate, not medium security, but the big time, for less than this. You think they'll take pity on you because you're a woman abuser?"

Trixie looked down at Bronte's heaving shoulders. "Tell Master Soames that you're being punished, and you're grateful for the discipline, Creampuff."

And Bronte looked up at Soames as the water cascaded over her face. Through chattering teeth she stammered. "Soames, it's okay, really it is. Trixie knows what's best for me."

Trixie snorted and finally turned off the water and reached down, grabbing Bronte by one of her soft brown nipples. Twisting the areola so Bronte shrieked, Trixie pulled Bronte off her knees and out of the shower.

Trixie pinched Bronte's nipple again. "You like those tits, don't you, Soames? Can't get it up for my little B cups can you? You should see these nipples when I have thumbtacks or rat traps attached to them...not so cute then." But she finally released Bronte's nipple.

Now Bronte stood trembling and naked in front of the clothed three. Soames's eyes widened as he saw her tentatively rubbing her clitoris, also shaven.

Was this turning Bronte on? Soames knew he should do something but he was overcome with shameful lust. The hell was going on? I mean, Jesus.

It had to be. Bronte was, in addition to being a teacher, a martial arts instructor, and once Soames had seen her kickboxing, knocking guys out, on cable access. Bronte could have put all three of us in the hospital, Soames thought...if he kicked Trixie, she'd probably explode

"Stop diddling yourself." Trixie said, bored. "I didn't give you permission. I can't wait until that chastity belt comes in the mail."

Trixie turned to the men. "What do I do, boys? The first time I caught the cunt here growing back her hair, I whipped her with a frying pan, and the second time I made her stand on two chairs with bagged telephone books hanging from her nipples. I let her off the last time because she's such a good little pussy eater...but now I'm losing my patience."

"Can-can I have a towel, Trix--" But Bronte's plea was rudely interrupted as Trixie slapped her viciously. "I'm Miss Watson," Trixie pointed to Ed, "This is Mister Cullen and you know Mister Soames who you were drooling over last night."

Actually it had been Soames who was ignoring Trixie and gazing nearly obsessively at Bronte, who had only made polite conversation. Thinking of it now, Soames realized that Trixie might have been a bit jealous.

And sure...Trixie had a crappy job as a Certified Nurse's Assistant at an old age home, she was an obese airhead to boot, she must loathe poor Bronte. But why would Bronte let her behave like this? And why would Bronte tolerate Ed, who dropped out of seventh grade at fifteen and didn't lose his virginity till he was twenty-six?

"Please, Trix--Mistress, I WILL suck your cunt, I'll suck all three of you, and more if you just...I'll take over your car payment this month, please give me a towel!" She paused. "I'll shave my head completely bald and spray it with Nair."

Now Bronte looked around the bathroom for her wig and Trixie pointed to the closed commode with a sardonic grimace. "I haven't flushed it yet, Piggie. I know you have work later. If you make amends, you might put it in the dryer."

Ed brushed past the two women, grasping Bronte's butt, and then lifted the seat and peed in the toilet, and Soames heard it splashing on the hair.

"You notice that Piggie's not too upset because usually she has to drink Master Edwin's urine straight from the cock." Trixie grinned again.

"Please may I have a towel, Miss Watson?" It was true, Bronte seemed unfazed by the peeing...and the prospect of wearing a urine stinking wig all day.

God even without hair, Bronte was glorious. Those tits...the lips, the eyes. It was just a phenomenal image, Soames thought. In his thirty years, Soames had had two wives and five serious girlfriends, and none of them were as exquisite as this.

"No, we're going to let you warm up through aerobics." Trixie said. "You're going in the backyard!" Bronte burst into fresh tears, and Trixie took Ed's belt and THWACKED her in the stomach, and then again across her breasts. God, watch them bounce.

"But-but it's sleeting out there!" Bronte protested. "Please don't make me--"

Trixie grabbed Bronte's arm and shoved Bronte in front of her, waving the guys into the hall. Swinging the belt and letting the buckle end swat Bronte's buttocks again and again, she drove Bronte out of the bathroom, and down the steps, and the men followed.

Soames couldn't help but admire Bronte's full buttocks, as she ran, Trixie swinging the cruel belt buckle and connecting more than a few times.

They stopped briefly at the closet, and Ed, Trixie and Soames put on their overcoats, as it was freezing outside. Soames was going to ask Bronte if she wanted to put something on, but the poor thing was shivering near the back door.

When they got to the back door, Soames protested. "This is too much, Trixie. I don't know what kind of fucked up game this is, but Bronte will get pneumonia--"

Bronte smiled at Soames, through her tears. "Really, it's all right, Soames... Miss Watson um, knows what's best--"

But again Bronte's mouth was shut by Trixie's nasty hand.

"Dude, don't worry about it, this is fine." Ed said. "She's been through worse."

"That's right, Soamesey... I know you love your precious little Bronte, but I've got it all under control." Trixie grinned, and opened the back door, kicking Bronte onto the snow covered deck. Thankfully, the sleeting had stopped, but it was a cold February of about nine degrees.

Trixie tossed Ed his belt and grabbed a long piece of fiberglass. Soames had seen it the night before, recognizing it as a former fishing rod, and wondered what it was doing out there...but now he was beginning to understand.

"We believe in keeping Piggie in shape. So to warm yourself up, you have to dance!"

Incredibly, Bronte's face changed and she smiled. "You have such an imagination, Trix. This is a new one."

Trixie grinned for a moment, then, "Miss Watson to you! DANCE, BITCH!" Trixie swung the fiberglass rod and it slashed across Bronte's left breast, and Bronte gasped in pain. Then Trixie yelled at Ed "Get her hot little behind with your belt, Eddie!"

Trixie swung again and the fiberglass slashed one of Bronte's beautiful nipples.

"Nah fuck that, I'm gonna use the carpet beater!" Ed went inside .When Ed returned, he was carrying a wire thing in the shape of a tennis racket.

Soames had seen wicker carpet beaters--his father had been stationed in Germany, where the beater was called a Tzrepak. Soames had seen his German friends get hit with them, once or twice, but always wicker and with their pants up...and one swat with the sonuvabitch had calmed little Franz down.

But now, Ed circled behind Bronte, who was imploring him "No, Ed, Mister Cullen, please not the carpet beater, oh God."

Bronte's feet were growing a little blue, but after Trixie began swatting Bronte's breasts and belly with the fiberglass whip, Bronte began jumping and dodging, and Ed herded her back from escaping the porch with the steel beater, which was leaving the imprint of its lattice end on her pretty buttocks.

Back and forth Bronte ducked and weaved, dancing about in the freezing weather as Trixie laid in with the whip. Bronte attempted again to escape the deck, but Ed was blocking off the stairs and swinging the beater happily.

And incredibly, Bronte was getting warmer. Sobbing, screaming, petrified, but warming up like no one's business.

As Soames watched with his hands in his pockets, and then from the inside because it was indeed so chilly, long red weals and welts began streaking up and down Bronte's sylph like figure, and as her head was shaven, Soames was unsurprised that Trixie used the fiberglass crop to graze it a few times as well. Right on the dome, and then across the forehead.

Finally they herded Bronte inside, and she threw herself onto the floor in a kneeling position, looking up at Trixie and Ed as they took off their winter wear. Soames noticed that there wasn't a drop of water on her now, and she was no longer shivering. She'd really danced it out!

"And now you can make up for your bad behavior...you can service the male Masters before you go to work. I'd suck fast though, I know your eight a.m. seminar gets impatient!"

And Soames, watching as Bronte took his zipper down with her teeth and moved in for the servicing, had what had to be described as a glorious morning.