The Apartment

In Chapter 1, a billionaire, J.R. Crowley, and his wife, Elizabeth, offer a job and a free apartment in their luxury high-rise to Carol, a young woman who is breaking up with her boyfriend and has no place to live. It soon becomes clear what Carol will have to do in return, but that's no problem for the sexually submissive hottie.

In Chapter 2, Elizabeth takes Carol shopping for sexy outfits at a special boutique owned by the Crowleys and managed by their friend, Harold. Private fittings turn into an opportunity for Elizabeth and Harold to enjoy Carol's submissive sexuality. The chapter ends with Harold taking Carol into the backroom, where he can torment and have his way with her.

The characters speak for themselves in the story.

Chapter 3

Elizabeth

What a picture! Carol's cute ass bounces like a flesh-colored beachball on Harold's big shoulder as he strides down the aisle. Fortunately, no customers are in the area to witness the naked girl being carried off to be fucked. Sharon, the salesclerk, is standing by with a huge grin on her face. I know she will be joining us in the backroom as soon as the other clerk arrives to manage the store.

We took great pains to soundproof the backroom. Very few of our customers know of its existence. Our boutique has the reputation of being upscale and exclusive, and much of our well-heeled clientele would be shocked if they knew of our extracurricular activities. That's what makes it so delicious when a customer is initiated.

I pick up a handy yardstick and follow Carol's bounding butt. The long, thin implement can be used like a paddle to make sure she cooperates fully. A few taps on her pretty ass as we file down the hall lets her know what's coming. She squeals and tries to twist away, but to no avail. I sting her a little harder when Harold stops to open the door to the back area. The abducted beauty cries out.

"AOWLLL..."

"Be quiet, girl," I exclaim. "Those little smacks are meant to encourage your total compliance. Harold no doubt needs to be relieved of the sexual tension you have caused by the wanton display of your body."

"As if I had any choice," she protests.

I laugh. "Not as long as you want to keep the apartment. But me thinks you protest too much. You love it."

Harold dumps her into a big, stuffed chair. He stands looking down at the naked cutie laid out in front of him. I close the door.

Carol's eyes are like saucers as she scans the large, semi-dark room. Strategic lighting highlights racks of sexy costumes and toys. Manacles and slings dangle from overhead beams. Whips and paddles hang on the walls. Illuminated display cases offer a variety of sex aids—lotions, cuffs, vibrators, dildos. J.R. and I are always adding new items.

"Oh, my...", exclaims my stunned friend. "What are you going to do to me?"

I cross the room and put a hand on her cheek. "Whatever we want. I know you've imagined places like this. Some people call them dungeons. But that's much too sinister. For us it's just a backroom where we can indulge ourselves. We have a similar room in the apartment building. Remind me to show you."

Carol seems too stunned to reply. I suspect she's just realized that she's stepped across a threshold into a whole new lifestyle. It's time to probe her limits.

Harold's hardon is pressed sideways by his tight pants, outlined like a giant sausage. He steps closer to the chair. Carol's face is inches away from his crotch.

"Poor Harold," I say. "You work so hard to make a success of this shop, and I'm always bringing in subs to distract you."

"Yes, you do," he chuckles, as his eyes roam over the bundle of sexy curves in the chair. "But you don't hear me complaining."

I kneel beside him and begin undoing his belt. "You deserve a reward," I purr. "My friend, Carol, is going to lick your cock and balls. Then she's going to take you in and out of her pretty mouth, all the way to her throat. Aren't you, Carol?"

Carol stiffens and watches as I drop Harold's pants to the floor. His big erection has forced its way through the slit in his shorts, and it bobs in front of Carol like a sapling in the wind.

"Oh my," she gasps. "That is certainly a mouthful! Do I have to?"

I position the flat side of the yardstick under her left breast. A few twists of my wrist bounces the sensitive flesh in a way that portends painful punishment for any defiance.

"Drop his shorts and stick out your tongue," I order, running the edge of the stick against a stiff nipple. She gets the message.

Carol

I'm in a kind of daze. So much has happened so fast. I feel like my brain is shutting down and turning control over to the surging hormones in my gut. More than anything I want to please this beautiful man and engulf him in my oh-so-ready pussy.

I lean forward and begin working his shorts over his protruding cock and down his legs. My nose touches his crown, and the aroma from leaking precum washes through me.

He lifts his feet so that I can help him step out of his pants and shorts. In the process I move my face over him, rubbing his penis lightly over my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, even my eyes. I finish by looking up into his eyes and wiggling my nose against the smooth skin on the circumcised tip. He sucks in a deep breath.

"Now, lick it!" commands Elizabeth. "Keep your hands in your lap, but away from your pussy."

Damn. The bitch knows how badly I need to touch myself. Harold gazes down at me, eyes bright with lust, his big cock twitching in my face. I start near the bottom and lick gently upward, stopping when I touch the circular ridge at the base of the dome. Then again. Then the same, but on the underside. I'm careful not to touch the super-sensitive crown, not yet.

On and on I tease him, like I'm slurping the sides of a melting popsicle. He rests his hands on my head, but restrains himself from forcing his cock into my mouth. I sense that he wants to prolong the pleasure and let me lead. His whole lower body is quivering.

Elizabeth has dropped to her knees beside us and is watching intently. "Good job, Carol," she says. "You're getting him really worked up. Here, let me help you reach those hard to lick places."

Reaching in she plucks a thumb and two fingers on the end of Harold's erection and pulls it up toward his stomach. Now I can tongue him low down and onto his balls. He reacts with a deep groan.

"AHHRGGHH...I can't take much more of this..."

"Sure you can," purrs Elizabeth. "Start using your lips, Carol. Nibble on him like a mouse on cheese. I know he loves that."

I pouch my lips. My first kiss lands on an engorged testicle, which I draw slowly into my mouth. His fingers tighten in my hair and pull me tight against him. I push that ball out of my mouth with my tongue and seize the other one. His hips begin to jerk as I roll my tongue on the soft orb, and I hear a long, continuous moan.

"OHHHH...GODDDD...OHHHHHH..."

My excitement rises and blends with his. I want him in me, NOW. I kiss and lick my way back up his cock until I have the head in my mouth. A couple of flicks with my tongue and he abandons his attempt to remain passive. His hands begin to ease my head back and forth as he slowly fucks my mouth.

Elizabeth's face is up next to mine, watching intently. She has Harold's balls in the palm of one hand, stimulating him even more. She whispers in my ear.

"Breath through your nose...take him deep. He's about to cum. Swallow as much as you can."

Harold

I'm totally drained. This girl sure knows how to suck cock. And she seemed to like it as much as I did. She was up for more action, but Elizabeth distracted her by laying out provocative clothing for her to try on.

I've gotten back into my pants, and I'm laid out in the big chair, watching the women shop. They've already picked out a dozen standard items, mostly sexy lingerie and maid uniforms. Now they're into role-playing costumes: harem girl, prison guard, schoolteacher, etc. These are very popular with our clientele, and we've got a big selection.

In a few minutes I'll be recharged and ready to give Carol what she wants. I wonder if Elizbeth will be jealous. Too bad J.R. isn't here. No way I can do both of them.

The nurse costume Carol is modeling is one of my favorites. It's all white, of course, but that's where the resemblance to a real nurse's outfit ends. This dress is cinched at the waist and barely covers her ass. She's not wearing any underwear.

White, thigh-hugging stockings end a few inches above the knee, showing all that creamy flesh on her upper thighs, front and back. Five-inch, fuck-me pumps, also white, shape her figure provocatively.

But the real attraction is the tight-fitting bodice with the zippered front. The zipper begins about halfway down her chest, leaving the top open in a deep V. The sides of her tits are exposed almost to the nipples. And the zipper has a large, ring-shaped handle, an open invitation to bare her to the waist.

I call across the room. "Elizabeth, I'm feeling a cramp in my lower abdomen and need the nurse to take a look at it."

"Oh, we can't have that," she says with a smile. "Carol, go check him out. I expect he's got a case of rejuvenating male organ and needs a massage."

"I'm the one who needs a massage," laughs Carol. "I know a way we could both get one at the same time."

"Clever girl," I say. "Get your sexy ass over here."

Carol sashays across the room, wiggling her ass and tits. My legs are stretched out, and when she reaches my feet she keeps going, spreading her legs and straddling mine. She places her hands on the back of the chair and leans down to kiss me on the lips. My right hand seizes the zipper handle, and my left hand comes up between her open thighs and onto her bare pussy.

"Ugghhg...", she moans into my mouth. I'm now stone hard and ready to fuck her.

I pull down on the zipper, spilling her tits. I cup one, and then the other. The hard nipples nestle in my palm like acorns. My left hand continues fingering her very wet pussy.

"What do you want, Carol?" I ask, pulling my head back from her probing tongue.

"I want you to fuck me! Now!" she cries.

"What are you going to do for me?"

"Anything. Everything. Anything you want."

"Are you going to invite me over to see your new apartment?"

"YES...YES... I want you to come."

"I want you to cum, too," I say, diddling her clit. "Would you like that?"

"OHH GODDD...You and Elizabeth have got me sooo hot. Please make me cum... please..."

I use both hands to pinch and pull on her nipples, swinging her hanging tits back and forth. Her eyes close. I delight in the sound of her needy whimpering.

"I could make you cum right now," I say.

Opening her eyes, she stares hard at my face. "No, I want you to fuck me...hard!"

"Then get off me so I can do it properly. I want you on your knees in the chair with your ass in the air."

It's my favorite position. I've lost count of the number of women I've taken from behind on this chair. They seem to like the submissive position and the angle when I go deep.

The chair has a leg rest that pops out and provides a shelf for their knees. Their head goes down in the seat. Often they have cuffs on their wrists, and I secure their hands behind them, adding to their feeling of vulnerability. But no time for that now. Carol has already positioned herself. It's a simple matter to flip the skirt up.

I step out of my pants. Elizabeth is back on her knees beside me. She cups my balls in one hand, and with the other guides my cock to perch at the glistening entry. I ease forward.

"OOOHHH...," Carol moans.

I push in a little more, determined to go slow. Her hips begin a slow rotation. Then Elizabeth dabs a fingertip on my wrinkled hole, and I loose control. One giant shove and I'm buried to the hilt in the warm, moist grotto. Carol cries out and works her hips in a frenzy, squeezing and twitching like she can't get enough. Her final scream ignites an eruption so powerful that I feel it in my toes.

Elizabeth

I hope Harold has done a good job in soundproofing this room. My new playmate has really loud orgasms. But J.R. says mine are pretty noisy too, and so far, no customers have complained. Maybe they like the sound. I know I do.

Needless-to-say, this scene has turned me on, and I'd like a little relief. But I'm afraid Harold is pretty well done for this morning. I could try out one of our new Viagra suppositories on him, or I could have Carol do me, but I think I'll postpone my pleasure until J.R. can participate. I do love my husband.

J.R will be back from his trip tomorrow, and he's bringing a houseguest, a very rich potential buyer of one of our more expensive condos. Carol may have an opportunity to make use of some of these new outfits.

I look down on the figures slumped in the big chair. Harold is cuddling her like she's his big teddy bear.

"Well, that was really something," I say. "You two work well together. But we really do have to get going, Carol. I can't spend all day on this shopping trip. And you still have to pick out some items from the display cases. Come on, up, up. And put on your street clothes, for god's sake. If Sharon comes in and sees you like this she'll want a piece too."

They both look sheepish as they untangle. Harold quickly pulls up his shorts and pants, but Carol takes a while to find her clothes, and then she darts into a lady's room to dress and fix her face. I give Harold a kiss on the cheek.

"What do you think of our new tenant?"

"My goodness. How do you find all these hotties? She's so sexy, and so willing."

"She's so willing because she likes living rent free in a luxury apartment. And the fact is she's a natural submissive. The apartment deal just gave her an excuse to let go. Now that she's experienced the high, vanilla sex won't do for her anymore."

He grins. "Like your and J.R.'s other subs. Like many of our female customers."

"It's a big, wide world. Plenty of people of all types. Our type just needs a little push to climb out of the conservative cultural rut."

"It's my pleasure to be of assistance," he says, placing his hand on the front of his pants.

I laugh. "You do a good job. But you've had enough for today. We don't want to wear you out. Now help me gather up all these purchases. Put the cost on our account."

Carol

I emerge from the lady's room to find Elizabeth and Harold staring down into one of the big display cases.

"Come here, Carol," says Elizabeth. "I want you to pick out six items from this collection. Most of them you will recognize. Others you may have to ask Harold to explain to you. Select ones you think you will enjoy."

Oh brother. Now I'm being forced to reveal my preferences in sex toys. Elizabeth is determined to force all my sexuality to the surface. Okay. In for a penny, in for a pound. Other than dildos and vibrators, I wonder what's in that cabinet. I walk over and look down.

I scan the whole six-foot length, and to my surprise, there are no dildos, at least none that look like the real thing. Elizabeth has been watching my eyes.

"That's right, dear," she says. "No artificial cocks for you. When you want that, you must have the real thing. How about a couple of specialty vibrators? I assume you already have a standard wand massager, like the heavy-duty model on the end."

Oh yes, I have one like that—fully charged it will buzz me for half an hour. My eyes roam over the case like I'm picking out a necklace in a jewelry store.

"What's that one that looks like a little motor on top of a ring?"

Elizabeth smiles at my naivete. "That's a finger vibrator. You haven't lived until your partner uses on of those on you. You get the feel of a real finger, together with the tingle. That model has five settings."

I guess I really have been leading a sheltered life. "I'll take it," I say. Harold slides open the door on the bottom of the cabinet and removes a small, unmarked box.

"What about the one with the little padded cup on the end?" I ask.

"That's a clit stimulator," explains Elizabeth. "You fit it over your nub, and it blows delicious air currents on you. It's fabulous."

"I want it." Now I'm on a roll. "And the rod with the curved end?"

Harold speaks up. "One of my favorites. A vibrating probe used in locating and kneading the G spot. It's also a prostate massager, which I thoroughly enjoy."

"Gracious! I had no idea. Add it to my collection."

"Enough with the vibrators," Elizabeth says. "Pick out some nipple clamps. I recommend the set with the sliding ring that look like chopsticks joined at the base. The ring renders completely variable pressure settings, and the dangling balls provide the pulling."

"If you say so..."

"And of course you'll need a good butt plug, and a set of anal beads."

Elizabeth obviously knows a lot more about sex toys than I do, so I decide to let her finish making the selections. Soon we have a pile of items laid out on the glass top, including wrist and ankle cuffs, various lotions, suction cups, and other unmarked boxes containing god knows what.

"Time to go," Elizabeth says finally. "All this focus on sex is tiring me out. Wrap it all up, Harold. We'll come back another day to buy more work outfits for Miss Carol."

Elizabeth

The valet brings our car, and we zip out into the city traffic. Carol is quiet, pensive.

"Wasn't that fun?" I ask, turning toward her with a grin.

"I'm not sure 'fun' is the right word. It was exciting, exhilarating, like I was being swept along in class four rapids. Thinking about it, I hardly recognize myself."

"Don't judge yourself. The rapids analogy is a good one. For a time, you are immersed in a thrilling experience, and then you return to your normal life."

"Is that what you do? How do you keep from being addicted?"

"Good question," I respond. "Some people, women and men, do become addicted to sex, especially the non-vanilla variety. Usually this happens when you're so needy that the identity of your playmates doesn't matter. If you're sharing the experiences with special people, sex becomes just another aspect of life with those people."

Heavy traffic forces us to a crawl, and Carol fidgets in her seat. "I've had many special people in my life, but never shared anything like that," she says quietly.

I laugh. "It was the same with me when I met J.R., twenty years ago. He took charge on our second date, and I've never looked back. I consider myself so fortunate to be in a loving relationship that allows me to be myself, totally. We share everything."

"You are unlike any woman I've ever known," she says, shaking her pretty head.

"You'd be surprised how many are like me, but afraid to reveal it. Often it takes an emotional jolt to break it lose. Like when you broke up with Carl, and then let J.R. and me have our way with you. The lure of the apartment made you submit, and you discovered how aroused you were by that kind of sex. Are you ready to admit it?"

"I can't deny it, but it scares me. What just happened with Harold..."

"Harold is a special person. You trusted me, and I took you to him. Did you like him?"

We're stopped at a traffic light, and she turns toward me. "What's not to like? He's handsome and charming, and he obviously cared about my pleasure as well as is. I'm curious to know more about him."

Her response is what I'd hoped for. Harold is ready for a special relationship. Maybe Carol is the right one. She's about his age, intelligent, beautiful, and bent the same way. And living in our apartment, I can make her very available.