The Punisher Pt 04

Part 4

"All right, Jane," he said, stacking up the dishes from the table and carrying them to the sink. "I really do need to let you go home."

"Sir?"

He smiled and crossed the room, running his fingers through my hair again. "If I don't, I really might just keep you. And that's not fair for you right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Your body needs time to recover, little slut. I wasn't lying about that. You should really go home. I will see you first thing on Monday at the office."

"But, sir, I like being here."

"And I like having you here. But trust me, you need some rest. And some time away."

"Oh." I looked down and tried to tell myself he was right. He'd been right about everything so far.

He crossed the room and pulled me to my feet. He put his hands on my waist and held me at arm's length. "Don't look so sad, Jane. Go home and rest for a while. I'll text you later on tonight. All right?"

"All right."

He went back to the sink and got a plastic bag. "Here. For your clothes."

"All right."

He gave it to me and I went back to the bathroom, putting them into the bag mechanically. I went back into the living room and put on my shoes. I went to the door and was about to open it, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"What's wrong?"

What was wrong? More specifically, what was wrong with me?

"Nothing."

"I told you, Jane, don't ever lie to me. Now, I'll ask again. What's wrong?"

"I just... I don't know."

He hugged me tightly and kissed the top of my head. "Is it that you don't want to go?"

I shrugged, not trusting my voice. He put his fingers under my chin and tipped my head up so that I was looking into his eyes. "Are you worried that I'll forget about you? That things will just go back to the way they were before?"

I shrugged again and looked away. "Maybe," I whispered.

"Look at me. Now."

I did. "Do you know what you have been to me the last two days?"

"A date that went well?"

He laughed and kissed me, taking his time and running his tongue around my mouth. "You were. And when you didn't push me away or slap me for putting your hand on my dick, you started to become more. And then you let things happen.

"You stayed overnight. Then you stayed for breakfast. I didn't expect that. I had no intention of touching you again this morning, because I knew you were sore. But you wanted to give me a blowjob."

"I did. And I liked being sore, sir. It made me think of you."

He sucked in his breath and kissed me again. "You need to leave, Jane, because I want to keep you."

"What?"

"You became my slut, Jane. You became my slut, my whore, my property. Mine. Do you understand that?"

My face went red. My whole body was hot. Something about the way he said it made my heart pound. His slut. His whore. His property. It was all I could do to not jump him and ride him until we were both spent.

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Then go home, my slut. Rest. I will text you later and we'll figure out what to do tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Unless you had plans?"

Sunday. Sunday was my lazy day. I usually spent it in front of the television or reading. "No, sir, I don't have any plans."

"Excellent. Go rest. Wash your clothes. Wait for my text."

"Yes, sir."

He rested his forehead on mine and grabbed my hair again. "Good girl, Jane. Such a good slut."

*

Hello, slut.

Hello, sir.

Did you get some rest?

Yes, sir, I did. I slept for about two hours, after I did a load of laundry.

Good girl. How are you feeling?

I'm fine, sir. And you?

I'm also fine. Are you wet?

Yes, sir, I am.

Does it still hurt to touch your pussy?

Yes, sir, it does.

Excellent. What about your nipples? Did they bleed again?

No, sir. They haven't bled. But they are also sore.

As they should be. We need to talk about some rules, little slut.

Rules? Like what, sir?

We already established some safety rules. Like tapping my leg or using a safeword.

Yes, sir, we did.

Have you ever been tied up, little slut?

Not really, sir. I used some novelty handcuffs once.

What about toys? Vibrators? Dildos? Buttplugs?

I have a vibrator, sir. But not the others.

Have you ever been spanked or whipped?

Some light spanking, sir. Never whipped.

Tit or pussy torture?

I don't think so, sir.

You would remember, little slut, if it was done correctly.

Then no, sir.

Has anyone ever taken your ass?

I tried it once or twice, sir. But it didn't go well.

Did he get it all the way in?

No, sir. I made him stop.

Interesting. Why did you do that?

It hurt, sir. And it just made me feel... dirty.

You didn't feel dirty last night?

It was different, sir.

How so?

I was with you.

Little slut, you are killing me.

I'm sorry, sir.

Don't be. This is fun. Wouldn't you agree?

Yes, sir.

Do you own any lingerie?

I have some, sir.

Does it make you feel slutty?

No, sir.

Go to the store. Find something that makes you feel slutty. Buy it.

When?

...

Sir?

Keep working on that, little slut. Or it will get you into trouble.

I'm sorry, sir.

Go get it either now or tomorrow morning. Wear it after lunch. I'll pick you up at two.

You want me to wear it outside?

...

Sir?

Jane.

I'm sorry, sir. Do you want me to wear it outside?

And let someone else see you in it? Of course not. Put a loose dress or robe over it.

Yes, sir.

Good girl. Do you have any questions for me?

I don't think so, sir.

My favorite color, in case you were wondering, is red.

Yes, sir.

And I like a nice, bald pussy.

Yes, sir.

Heels. Black. The taller the better. With matching stockings and garter belt.

Yes, sir.

Good girl. Let me know if you have any trouble.

Yes, sir.

Don't worry about the cost. I'll cover it.

I can pay for it, sir.

If you prefer. I will see you tomorrow then.

Yes, sir. At two.

Have a good night, little slut.

Yes, sir.

*

I went to the mall in the next town over. I wasn't so much embarrassed as I didn't want to share what I was doing with anyone I might run into. I went to the Victoria's Secret but the lingerie was so pretty. Too pretty. He told me to find something I felt slutty in, and these were all so... Romantic.

I walked down the main hall and rode the escalator up to the second floor. There was a store that had big black curtains in the windows and a sign that said "18 and up only" at the door. That seemed more promising. I went inside, the back of my neck and ears burning hot, walking past a large display of "novelty items," such as huge rubber dildos and the type of handcuffs that weren't quite so padded and wearer friendly.

I looked around and made my way to a large area of the trashiest lingerie I had ever seen outside of porn or adult magazines. I walked through the racks, focusing on the red outfits. I found an outfit made of inch-wide straps of what looked like a combination of cloth and vinyl that would criss-cross my body, leaving my tits out and my pussy barely covered. I couldn't imagine wearing it. I found my size and went over to the garters and stockings. As requested, I found them in black, as well as a pair of black heels that I would never wear in public for fear I'd fall over.

I made my way to a cashier, trying to look like I belonged there despite the sweatsuit. I had worn it all day, loving how it felt on my skin. She looked bored as she rang me up, swiping my card and waiting for the receipt. The bag was shiny and black with the store's logo stamped on it. When I walked out of the mall, I felt like everyone must be staring at me.

I picked up a quick burger from a drive thru on the way home. I ate the fries in the car and once I was settled on my couch behind the locked front door, I devoured the burger. I was tempted to try the outfit on, but didn't dare. It almost seemed like it might break the spell for me. Instead, I turned on the TV and tried to find a trashy reality show to get sucked into.

I picked up the phone and scrolled through my messages, reading the ones from Thomas. My hand crept to my pussy over the sweatpants and I wasn't surprised to feel my clit was swollen underneath, or that it hurt just a bit to touch it. I stopped, though, almost as soon as I started. Again, it was like I didn't want to break a spell.

I typed a couple of messages that were clearly trying far too hard to be casual to succeed. I put the phone down and paced around the room a few times. Finally, I gave up and got my earbuds. I turned on some ambient music and went to bed. Maybe I could get more sleep. Then maybe Thomas wouldn't send me home to rest.

*

After I ate a light lunch, I took a long shower. I shaved, paying special attention to my pussy. My legs and armpits were easy but the pussy took extra time because I was so paranoid about cutting myself. I washed using just my hands, careful to not rub anything too hard. It was still sore, yes, but I also didn't want to get myself too excited.

I dried off and put the outfit on, the silky stockings and garters smooth against my skin. The strips moved when I did, creating a strange sensation that I couldn't quite name. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my bathroom door, my hair hanging around my shoulders and my face adorned with just a light layer of eyeliner and mascara. The outfit did, indeed, make me feel like a slut.

And I liked it.

I sat on the couch, holding my phone and staring at the television, not even paying attention to what was on. My flowiest dress was draped over the side and I had my new heels on. I had tried walking on them and I could only imagine how ridiculous I looked.

I sighed and opened the browser on my phone. I did a quick search for some videos, particularly those for pussy or tit torture. Some were listed as "amateur" and were poor quality. But others were definitely thought-provoking. I watched as women were tied up on tables or against walls and people started using various instruments on their most private parts. One video in particular caught my attention. The girl was on a table, tied to the top and bottom, and a man walked back and forth hitting her tits and pussy with a riding crop. It looked very painful, but the woman didn't seem to mind. If anything, she looked very happy about it.

The man kept hitting her with the crop, focusing on her pussy. After a minute or so, she asked permission to cum and, once she got it, screamed in pain and pleasure, squirting her juices in a large arc. It was an interesting thing to watch. It seemed very... messy.

Another video showed a woman sucking on a man's cock, having it shoved down her throat and gagging on it. I was a little amused that the sound she made, the "glk, glk, glk," was so similar to what I heard come out of my mouth two nights ago. When the man pulled out, the first thing he did was wipe off her chin. Thomas had seemed to like seeing it on my face.

I found another video, this one of a woman having her tits clamped and whipped. I was mesmerized. She cried and yelled but also didn't seem like she was too upset about it. A knock came from the door and I dropped the phone, a yelp coming out of my mouth. I picked it up and pulled the dress over my head as I walked to the front hallway.

I straightened it over my belly and legs and took a deep breath. I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Thomas stood there, looking delicious in a pair of cargo shorts and polo shirt, this one with short sleeves. He raised his eyebrow and looked me up and down, making me shiver.

"You didn't even ask who it was, little slut. What if I was a maniac?"

"Um, I don't know, sir. I assumed it was you."

He took a step forward and leaned on the doorframe. "Don't ever assume that, Jane. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Yes, sir."

"Is your slutty outfit under that dress?"

"Yes, sir."

He looked me up and down again. "Nice choice on the shoes, little slut. But can you walk on them?"

"If I don't go too fast, sir."

He smiled again. "I suppose I should be a gentleman and offer you my arm, then."

He held his crooked arm out and I slipped my arm onto it. "Do you have everything that you need?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you bring clothes for tomorrow?"

"Do I need clothes for tomorrow? Sir?"

His eyes narrowed slightly but he let it go. "Unless you want to go to work dressed like that, and I can't let that happen, now can I. Get some clothes and anything else you need for work."

"Yes, sir. Do you want to wait on the couch?"

"That sounds perfect."

We walked to the couch and he sat down. He watched me go into my room, his eyes quite clearly on my legs and ass. I pulled out a bag and put a fairly standard work outfit into it. The pants were already pressed, so it wouldn't be a big deal to leave them folded. The shirt would be fine, as long as I took it out when we got to his apartment. The last thing I added was my favorite pair of flats and some cotton underwear. They weren't fancy, but I had a feeling I might be sore again, and I didn't dare chance the lacy, tighter types.

I went back out into the living room, bag in hand. "Ready?" he asked, standing up.

I shivered and nodded. "Yes, sir, I'm ready."

"Let's go. Don't forget your keys."

"How did you know I forget my keys all the time, sir?"

He smiled and led me to the door. "I've seen the various emails and notices at work, my dear little slut. 'Lost my keys again! If you've seen them, please bring them back to my desk.' It's endearing, actually."

I blushed but held up the lanyard and purse for him to see. "I've got them this time."

"Lovely. Well then, my dear, let's go."

"Yes, sir."

We went outside and I locked the door. He led me to his car, opening the door for me. I slid in, putting the bag on the floor. The interior was spotless. I was glad we weren't in my car. It was always in various stages of messiness. He got in and pulled his door shut. We buckled up and he cupped my chin.

"Are you ready, little slut?"

"Yes, sir."

He kissed me, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth before I could even react. I moaned into his mouth, opening my jaws wider. We kissed like that for a bit, his hand still holding my chin in place.

He pulled back and smiled at me. "All right, my good little girl. Let's get going."

He turned the car on and soon we were on the road. I was practically shaking in anticipation. Once we were out of my neighborhood, he rested his hand on my leg just above my knee, right below the hem of the dress. I resisted the urge to press my legs together and he glanced at me, smiling.

"I love the feel of your stockings. Did you remember the garter?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."

He slid his hand up further, pushing the skirt up with him. His fingers made their way up my leg, brushing against the top of the stockings and the strap of the garter belt. He pulled it up gently and let it snap back down. It didn't hurt at all, but it still made me gasp. He laughed and slid his hand over to the crotch of the outfit. He cupped my mound and squeezed it.

"Are you still sore, little whore?"

"Not very, sir. At least, not that I've noticed."

"Then we have to fix that, don't we?"

"Yes, sir."

He paid more attention to the road but didn't move his hand. He went back and forth between just staying still and massaging it. Every time he moved his hand, I pressed into it.

"How wet are you, little slut?"

"Very wet, sir."

"Good. You should always be wet when you're with me."

"Yes, sir."

The drive was short and when we got to his building and he parked, he pulled me back to him for another deep kiss, still cupping my pussy. When he broke the kiss off, he removed his hand and said, "Pull that skirt down, little slut. I don't want anyone else seeing my property."

"Yes, sir."

His property. The shiver up my spine was back. I tugged the skirt back into place and got out of the car, shaking it out a little. He came around to my side and held out his arm. I went to grab my bag but he beat me to it with his other hand. "Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

He started walking and I stayed close to his side, so scared I would trip or twist my ankle with the ridiculous heels. He just chuckled and kissed my temple, making me shiver all over again. We went to his apartment and went inside. He held up my bag and said, "Do you need to hang anything up?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Go ahead. There's extra hangers in my closet."

"Yes, sir."

I went into his room, still walking slowly. I felt almost like an intruder, but he had sent me in. I opened his closet and took out a hanger, trying not to ogle his pants and shirts all lined up, separated by color. I put the bag on his bed and pulled out the outfit, hanging it up quickly and putting it on the doorknob. I moved the bag to the floor in front of the closet and took a deep breath.

I walked back into the living room, all too aware of how hard I had to try to not fall over or give in to the nervous shakes. He was sitting on his couch, his long legs crossed and his arm draped over the back. I walked over and sat next to him.

He gestured upward and narrowed his eyes. "Stand up, little slut. I want to see you when you take that dress off."

"Yes, sir."

I stood back up and grabbed the bottom of the dress, prepared to pull it up and over my head. "Stop."

I froze. "Yes, sir?"

"Pull it off from the top. Take your time. Show me your legs and the garter."

"Yes, sir."

So I moved my hands up, picking up the sleeves and tugging it slowly above my head, making sure to show the stockings and heels, balancing carefully so I didn't tip. The garter belt came into view, as did the bottom of the lingerie.

"Stop."

I did, freezing into place. I stood there, as motionless as I could be while still keeping my balance. I don't know how long I stayed like that, but I didn't even consider moving.

"Good girl. Take the rest of it off, now."

"Yes, sir."

I pulled it over my head, the cool air in the room hitting my exposed skin. I shivered, shaking the dress out and folding it quickly. I set it on the side table and stood still again, resisting the urge to cover myself.

"Oh yes, that is a wonderfully slutty outfit. Good choice."

"Thank you, sir."

He stood up and circled me, making me shiver all over again. He stopped when he was behind me, grabbing my hair and kissing my neck. "Spread your feet out. Nice and wide. But not so far that you lose your balance. I don't want to pick you up from the floor."

"Yes, sir."

I moved my feet apart, careful to stay in a solid position. He ran his free hand down my arm and grabbed my wrist. "Put your hands behind your head, little slut."

"Yes, sir."

He led my wrist upwards and I laced my fingers behind my head. He let go of my hair and resumed walking around me. I couldn't help watching him. He snapped his fingers and grabbed my chin.

"No. You stay still."

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry."

"Hold your elbows out nice and wide. That's it."

He let go of my chin and circled me again. I made sure to stay still, even though I wanted to watch him, or better yet, grab him and ride him.

"This is called the 'inspection pose,' little slut. You do this whenever I tell you to. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl. Now, just stay like that for me."

"Yes, sir."

He circled one final time, kissed my shoulder, and sat back down on the couch, draping his arm on the back. He picked up the remote and turned on the television. The sounds of a baseball game filled my ears. I wanted to turn and look, to turn to get his attention. But something told me I should stay still and just wait.

He glanced at me a few times. After a while, he got up and went to the kitchen. I put all of my focus on staying still and balancing on the heels. He came back out and put two cans of soda on the coffee table. He sat back down, got comfortable, and picked one up. He popped the top and the hiss of bubbles filled my ears.