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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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The Water Stop
by A. Boychik 1995 (address withheld)
***
A community leader out for a run has his leering ways
"interactively corrected" by a vindictive neighbor.
(Fdom/M, d/s, spank)
***
It was very hot that day -- the temperature was humid
and in the 90's. I had never expected it to get that
hot.
I was running my loops in the neighborhood because most
of the roads were shaded by trees, and also because I
enjoyed waving at -- and being noticed by -- my
neighbors. I was president of the community's civic
association and I was toying with the idea of trying
for a political office. My wife and I and our three
children had lived in the neighborhood for almost 15
years.
Anyway, three long loops and three short loops would
add up to about seven miles of running. Since it was so
hot, I was running with just a pair of shorts -- and
shoes and socks, of course -- but with no shirt -- not
even a singlet. Even though other runners insisted on
wearing shirts, I couldn't seem to breathe when I
started sweating so much.
I especially liked running past one particular house.
If I was lucky, SHE would be outside. She was an
electrologist, according to the discrete brass plate on
her front door. At the times that I passed her house, I
often saw her returning from what must have been dance
or workout sessions, since she often wore brightly-
colored tights or leotards, and sometimes, a thong
covering them. Needless to say, I slowed down to watch
her sashay up the walk, and, occasionally, I said,
"Hello" or "You're looking really good." Sometimes, she
smiled back, but other times, she looked confused or
taken aback.
On this very hot day, from several houses away, I saw
her watering her flower beds. I noticed that she was
wearing very skimpy shorts and a sleeveless halter top.
I slowed down and smiled at her, and then she called
out to me, "Hey, you look like you need something to
drink. C'mon over here."
I didn't need any prodding. I walked over to her and
reached out for the hose. "Wait a minute," she said as
she held her hand up to me, "you can't drink that...
it's not city water. Come on inside and I'll get you
something better."
She turned off her sprinkler and I followed her to the
house. Next to the front step, she bent over and turned
off the spigot. I could see her visible panty line
through the shorts, which had been pulled tightly over
her butt. She turned to me, as she got up; I didn't
look away quickly enough, and she caught me staring.
She smiled and then, ever so subtly, nodded to herself.
She opened the front door and led me inside. Just as I
got inside, she quickly said, "Wait right here. You're
dripping wet." I stood on the mat inside the door.
Thankfully, the house was air conditioned.
She disappeared for a minute and then came back,
holding up a pair of pink satiny running shorts. She
came over to me and said, "Take your wet shorts off and
put these on. They're all that I could find." She
smiled at me, with a look that promised some action,
and I couldn't resist. She turned her back and said,
"Go ahead...I won't peek." I quickly pulled my shorts
down over my sneakers, careful not to tear the elastic
around the leg holes, and then pulled up the pink
shorts. They were a little bit tight, but they felt
really nice against my skin and my penis.
"Okay, now take off your shoes and socks and put them
all outside on the front stoop to dry in the sun." I
opened the door, carefully looked around to see if
anyone was looking, tossed out my shoes and socks and
quickly flattened my shorts against the hot slates. I
closed the door and she then turned back around towards
me.
"I always notice you looking at me when you run by, and
I want to get to know you better." She stepped up to me
and started to run her hand slowly and lightly over my
shorts. My penis was starting to become hard. She
stroked me a few more times and then said, "Let me go
get a towel. I don't want you messing up the
furniture."
She was back quickly with a large pink beach towel. She
also had a silky plum-colored bra in her hand. She led
me over to the couch, carefully laid the towel over the
cushions, and told me to lie down on it. She knelt down
on the floor and started to rub me through the satiny
pink shorts ever so softly. I was feeling really good.
Abruptly, she stopped. "Now, before we do anything
else, I want you to know that I have one rule. I don't
want you to touch me. Do you understand?"
At that point, I would agree to almost anything...I was
almost ready to cum. Sensing that, she stopped and
said, "Well?"
"Yeah...okay...I agree. I won't touch you." I answered.
"Good." She then rubbed me a few more times, and then
reached into my shorts, circled my cock just under the
head with her finger and thumb and tightly squeezed,
until I felt my cock losing the premonitory sensation.
"I don't want you to get there just yet."
She continued to fondle me through my shorts. Sometimes
she reached between my legs to lightly squeeze my
balls. Other times she roughly grabbed my cock through
the silk. As she was doing this, she moved her other
hand inside her shorts, and then quickly reached up and
stuck a finger into each of my nostrils.
I immediately smelled -- HER. And she smiled. "I want
you to associate MY odor with this pleasure. Sniff
deeply." And I did.
She then started stroking my nipples. She squeezed them
a few times. She bent over and nibbled each one. I had
to do everything I could to stop from grabbing at the
back of her head...from running my fingers through her
hair.
Then she looked up at me. "I'd love to stroke those
cute nipples through some silky material."
"What d'ya mean? You want me to put on a bra?" I asked
incredulously.
"Exactly. C'mon, this won't hurt you," she said
coquettishly, as she reached over for the silky, plum-
colored bra. "Sit up." I did. "Now reach your hands
out." Again, I couldn't resist.
She slid the bra up over my arms and I turned my body
so that she could fasten the hooks. "There," she said
as she started to caress my nipples through the smooth
material. I groaned as she started to pinch my nipples.
"Now lie back down again and close you eyes."
A moment later, she said, "Open your eyes." As I did, a
flash of light momentarily blinded me. Damn! She must
have taken a picture. I heard her laugh. "This is for
OUR scrapbook." She stressed the word "our."
Before I could say a word, she quickly came over to me,
knelt down on the floor, and started stroking both my
cock and my nipples. I couldn't fight her. I was
powerless to her touch. "Don't say a word," she warned.
"Just enjoy this."
Slowly, she fondled me. She rubbed my cock through my
shorts. She nibbled at my nipples. She even told me to
turn my head sideways and I could feel her sucking at
my neck, very obviously giving me a large hicky. And I
couldn't resist her. And when she felt me getting too
close, she reached into my shorts to tightly grasp my
cock. This excitation-slowing down cycle continued
several times until I couldn't take it any more. I
grabbed her head and tried to move her teasing mouth
down to my cock.
She slapped my hands away and quickly slapped my face.
She got up and angrily said, "You forgot! Get up and
get out of here!"
"Please," I heard myself saying. "Please let me stay. I
promise I won't try to touch you again."
"Okay, but I'm going to have to make sure." She opened
a drawer in the side table and pulled out a pair of
handcuffs. "Sit up and reach out your hands...now!" I
didn't know what I was getting into. I did know that I
was horny as hell and wanted to "get off." So I slowly
stuck my wrists out to her. Quickly, she cuffed one
wrist, and then the other. She then reached over and
pulled out a large black leather dog collar.
"You're just a dog and you need to have a dog's collar.
She walked around the back of the couch, pulled back my
head, and fastened the collar around my neck. I guess I
could have stopped her, but I was becoming even more
aroused. "Now give me those hands." She reached over
me. I could feel her breasts rubbing against the back
of my head. She grabbed the handcuffs and pulled them
up to the collar. I heard a metallic click, and my
handcuffs were locked to the collar! "There. That'll
keep your hands out of any more trouble."
She picked up her purse and pulled out some lipstick.
Before I could object, she painted my mouth with bright
red lipstick. Then she applied some blue eye shadow and
eye liner. And some blush. "We don't want you to look
too much like a filthy whore," she said, snickering.
She smiled wickedly at me and nodded approvingly. She
stepped back, picked up the camera and said,
laughingly, "Say 'cheese'!" followed by the inevitable
flash.
She walked slowly and ominously closer to me and
quickly slapped my face twice. My eyes started to tear.
She then picked my head up and told me to look directly
at her. "This is the situation. You're in a strange
woman's house and you're wearing silky pink and plum-
colored woman's clothing which is barely hiding your
bulging cock. Your hands are fastened together and
locked to your dog collar. And you're wearing the
makeup of a whore. AND I have pictures to prove it.
What would your neighbors say if they got copies? What
would your wife say?" And then she laughed and left me
there, sitting with my fears, as she walked out of the
living room.
Shortly, she was back. "Stand up," she ordered. I stood
up, and she promptly pulled the shorts down. I picked
up each foot so that she could get the shorts off. I
want you to wear something a bit more 'you'." Here, let
me get this on you. She bent down, and I helped by
lifting each leg, as she slowly pulled a short, flared,
silky, plum-colored miniskirt up my legs. "This cute
skirt will match your bra. And it also highlights your
eyes. You'll look better in the pictures!" And then she
pulled on matching silky panties, with lace around the
leg openings and waist. "You're so much prettier now."
"It's picture time, again. Later, we'll put on some
make up, but right now, let's record this. Now smile!"
Another flash. Another indictment.
"Now come with me." She led me to the back of the
house, and into what looked liked an examination room.
In the middle of the room was a large examining table.
"A gynecologist lived here before he died. I bought the
house and furnishings from his estate. The table is one
of the sturdiest one money could possibly buy. Plus,
it's fastened to the floor."
She led me over and made me stand at the midpoint of
the long side of the table. "Spread your legs apart and
stand still!" she ordered.
I looked down and saw her fastening leather restraints
to each ankle. Sensing my fear, she warned, "Don't you
dare move." Once both restraints were tight, she
attached a chain to a steel loop on the right ankle
restraint and pulled my right leg, with surprising
strength, towards the right leg of the table. I heard a
metallic click and my right leg was secured.
"Now for the good part," she said, as she grabbed the
chain connected to the left ankle and vigorously pulled
it in the opposite direction until I couldn't bear it
anymore. After one more huge tug, I heard the
inevitable locking sound, and my legs were spread so
wide apart that I thought that I would tear apart.
"You're not going any place soon." She walked around to
the other side of the table, grabbed my collar and
pulled my head downwards towards the floor. The table
was at waist height, so I was forced to bend over. I
could hear her fastening another chain to my collar,
and then the locking sound, and I was totally
immobilized, bent over the examining table with my legs
spread wide apart.
She walked out of the room, and returned with the
camera. And then, another flash.
Then, she began: "The reason I am doing this to you is
that I am sick of being watched by you. You want to get
into a public office and you haven't even learned to be
more subtle. You have a wife and family and you leer at
ME. I hate the way you say 'hello' to me, while
extending the 'lo' part. I hate the way you say 'you're
looking good' while suggestively stretching out the
word 'good'. All you are is a dog, and that's why
you're wearing a dog collar. And the reason you're
wearing your silky plum-colored outfit is so I can know
what color your permanent skin panties will be. When I
get done with you, your ass will be the same color as
those silky panties."
"Now it's time to learn some manners." She came over to
me head side and showed me something that was made from
a double strand of wicker and was shaped like a heart,
about 8 inches across, on one end. The tip of the heart
was extended into a handle about two feet long.
"This is a carpet beater," she explained. "When
properly applied, it very quickly creates severe welts
and bruises." She then stopped to reach into her
shorts. Again, she placed a finger into each of my
nostrils. Yet again, her smell quickly hit me. "I want
you smell me as you're punished. I want you to remember
me well."
As she walked around behind me, she swished the carpet
beater rapidly in the air. I heard its threatening
whistle.
"This is going to be very painful. You're going to
scream, because you won't be able to help yourself. You
are going to beg me to stop." And she laughed. "But I
won't, until I think you've learned your lesson -- and
some manners."
"First, let's fold up your pretty skirt so that it
doesn't get ruined." She lifted up the hem and tucked
it into the waistband. She pulled up my panties to make
sure they were tight.
I heard her step back. And I heard a crack and suddenly
felt burning pain on my ass.
"Thank me."
"What?" I said.
"Thank me. Say thank you' after each loving stroke."
"Thank you," I quickly said.
About ten seconds later, my other buttocks cheek
exploded in pain. "Thank you," I said, once again.
Another ten or seconds passed. My right cheek erupted.
"Thank you," I screamed out.
"This loud screaming will just not do. What will the
neighbors say?" She laughed. She stopped hitting me and
then went around to the head side. "Open your mouth,"
she ordered. I refused, and she slapped me on my face.
And then again.
I couldn't stop her. I opened my mouth and she pushed
in a large rubber object and strapped it around my
head. She then stepped back and started to inflate a
hand pump. "This is an inflatable gag." Once it is
blown up, you'll still be able to scream -- and scream
you will -- but your screams will be nicely muffled and
our neighbors won't have to be disturbed."
As she blew up the gag, my cheeks became distended
until they couldn't stretch anymore. "Just one more,
and then we'll continue."
And continue she did. First one butt cheek, and then
the other. Slowly and inexorably. I could feel my silky
plum panties tattering as the wicker tore through them.
I screamed. I moaned. I tried to get away but the table
wouldn't budge. I cried. I sobbed. The blows just
wouldn't stop. There'd never be an end to this.
And it went on and on. And then finally, much later, it
was over. My ass was on fire. I could feel the pain
through my entire body.
After minutes that seemed like hours, she said,
"There's one more thing. Since you're so nicely bent
over, wearing a pretty silky flared skirt, I'm going to
fuck you in the ass."
"Oh no," I said to myself. "I'm not going to be able to
take this." And I moaned again into the gag.
She came around to my head side and undid my gag. I
could hear the hiss of the air escaping as she roughly
pulled it from my mouth. And she slapped me twice more
for "making her have to gag me," as she put it.
She showed me a huge black dildo. It had to be almost
two inches in diameter and twelve inches long. "This is
MY dick. And you're going to feel it all the way up
inside of you!"
With that, she ordered me to open my mouth and pushed
it in. "You'd better make it nice and wet. It's all the
lubrication that you're going to get."
I slurped on it. She moved it in and out of my mouth as
though she was fucking my mouth. I tried to make it as
wet as I could.
She then walked to the other side and said, with a
giggle, "Open wide."
And with that, she started to move the dildo up into
me. It wouldn't go in at first, so she reached over and
pushed it into my mouth. "Make it wetter!" I was forced
to taste my own ass juices!
She pulled it out of my mouth and tried again to push
it into my ass. This time, it went in a little bit.
"Obviously, it's not wet enough," she noted, and again
pushed it into my mouth.
And again and again. She pushed it further into my ass,
and then made me suck on it. Up and down, in and out.
From ass to mouth and back again. My ass felt like it
was being torn apart by the huge dildo. She wouldn't
stop!
As the dildo was at its deepest, and she was still
moving it back and forth, she reached between my legs
and grabbed my cock through what remained of my silky
panties. As she was fucking me in the ass, she started
stroking my cock. Her smell was in my nostrils, my own
smell and taste was inside my mouth and she was hurting
me and pleasuring me at the same time.
I couldn't resist. Pleasure and pain mixed together!
Smells and tastes commingled. And I came explosively in
her hand as she quickened the pace of the dildo.
Finally, it was over. Finally, she stopped, and
withdrew the dildo. "Clean it off with your mouth!" she
ordered as she pushed it against my lips. And I did.
Then she allowed me to rest.
Soon, she started to remove my collar chain and ankle
restraints.
"Get up on the table," she ordered. I complied as
quickly as I could.
She locked my collar to another chain at the head of
the table and placed my legs in the stirrups. She
fastened them down with leather belts.
"So that you won't forget me, I'm going to pierce your
scrotum. I'm going to fasten an internally locking ring
through the piercing." She held up one inch diameter
ring for me to see. "This ring is made from very hard
tempered steel and can't be easily cut. And you're not
going to want to remove it if you know what's good for
you." I couldn't understand how I was going to hide
that from my wife.
She placed a wooden block under my scrotum and
manipulated it. She squeezed my testicles several
times, and I moaned from the pain. "I could very easily
ruin you for life, if I wanted."
She showed me a three inch long needle. "This is the
needle that I'm going to use. It has a sharp thin point
but the top is somewhat wider, as you can see." She
then spread the testicles apart with one hand and
quickly pressed the needle through the skin and then
into the block. I almost passed out.
Leaving the needle in the wood, she slowly pulled my
scrotum up and away from the block. I felt even more
pain as the wider end of the needle caused the hole to
expand. She then quickly placed the open steel ring
through the newly created hole and allowed it to snap
shut. And she picked up the camera and took two more
pictures, one of which was a close-up.
She picked up a wet towel and washed off my face. She
roughly dried it with another towel. She took out the
makeup. "We're going to have to freshen up your face
before you go." And she applied even more red lipstick,
blue eye shadow and blush.
"Oh...we forgot one thing. You never did get that drink
you came in for. You must be so thirsty!" She pulled
down her shorts and panties, got up onto the table and
straddled my chest. I'm going to give you that drink
right now. Make sure you swallow every last drop, or
else." I could only imagine what the "or else" might
be.
She moved up on the table so that her vagina was right
above my mouth. She lifted up and ordered, "Open your
mouth wide and make sure to keep it open."
She placed her vagina tightly over my mouth and then
moved slightly forward. She grasped my head tightly
with her legs. I felt several drops of warm liquid in
my mouth, and then a gush. I swallowed quickly. And
then even more...a torrent. She was pissing in my
mouth! I swallowed again and again. I could hardly
breathe. "That's about it," she said when she was done.
I lay there, panting. She took another picture of me
and allowed it to develop. She gathered up all the
pictures and tacked them, in order onto a cork board.
"Look at these nice pictures. See how pretty you look
in your silky plum clothing! Look at your pretty
makeup!" Her unspoken threat was obvious.
She unfastened me from the table and helped me get up.
As she escorted me out of the examining room and
towards the front door, she said, "You have an
appointment with your electrologist here next week at
the same time. Make sure to be on time."
She opened the door, reached up and unfastened the dog
collar, unlocked my handcuffs and pushed me out the
door, which quickly slammed behind me.
Hurriedly, I bent over to gather up my shorts, shoes
and socks, and then jumped behind the evergreens so I
could change before anyone saw me.
I wasn't going to finish my seven miles that day.
FIN
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 63