The Supers’ Daughter-In-Law

 

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

The basement seemed deserted, as was usually the case so early in the morning…

 

I was running a little late in my normal morning rituals of dumping the garbage and then heading out to the corner Deli for coffee and bagel before heading back indoors again to start work.   I was a writer- slash- cartoonist, working freelance, which gave me a lot of free time and allowed me to work from home rather than have to go out into the 9-to-5 drudgery with the rest of the world.  I was good- at least I used to be, before, but I had yet to find a steady job at a company that I wanted to work for, and of course, wanted me working for them.  There were lean times, but for the most part I got the bills paid and the rent on my SRO.

 

At the time, coincidentally, I was doing some work for a Bondage Newspaper.  It was questionable stuff, soft porn really I suppose, at least in the minds of some people.  It didn’t matter to me really, as one job was the same as any other so long as I got paid, and at that moment, that was the important thing.  Actually I was rather intrigued by the subject matter, and I had to admit that some of the magazines that I had been given for reference excited me more than a little bit.

 

It wasn’t so much the whole ‘scene’.  At least I don’t think so.  The models were gorgeous, and I had always had a thing for women’s legs and feet and shoes.  It was more the humiliation I think, which I suppose played on my foot fetish angle as well as some things that had happened growing up.  Whatever, I had developed a serious little group of fantasies from some of the stories and images in the magazines, and unfortunately- being unattached at the time- had more than a little ability to indulge with five of my best personal friends in the privacy of my tiny apartment.  One thing did lead to another, however…

 

Stepping off of the elevator and into the long dim hallway I noticed the damp, rank smell of garbage coming from the far end first thing.  It was humid out, and the stone walls of the basement were slick and slimy with grease and age old dirt.  The basement had always reminded me more than a little of a dungeon I have to admit.  There was an old bomb shelter- a hold over from the fifties Cold War though I think it was mainly used for storage now- thus the stone walls.  Dirty pipes dripped rusty water from the ceiling, and there always a rank odor lingering, the stench of rotten cabbage and sweat socks, like a locker room.  The elevator emptied off into what was a shadowy, filthy little corridor that led off in two directions.

 

To the right was the apartment of the building’s Super.  He lived there with either his wife or sister, I was never quite certain, and a young son, the smallest of two.  I hadn’t seen him in weeks though, and I had the feeling that he had another job that kept him busy most of the time as the garbage room downstairs always seemed a mess and over-flowing.  His wife- slash- sister was still around however, and I saw her quite a bit in the afternoons standing outside and waiting on the kid to come home from school.

 

In the other direction was the garbage room, the laundry room and another apartment that belonged to the Super’s son and his wife.  He was nice, Hispanic and about my age though I think I was a bit older by a year or two.  Again I hardly saw him about, though I saw his wife quite a lot whenever I came downstairs later in the day to do my laundry or dump some garbage.  She seemed nice and was pretty, Spanish as well.  She always said ‘hello’ in passing, and I asked ‘how you doing’, and that was the extent of our relationship- at the time at any rate.

 

I cursed under my breath as I headed down the hallway, hearing the elevator’s inner door rumble and slam shut, the motors whining as the car rose slowly up into the building.  Odds were that it was heading to the sixth floor, as it always seemed to do when I went to the basement later in the day.  I sighed, shaking my head and resigned to the long wait I would have before it came back down.

 

The garbage room was filthy as expected.  Even with the windows open, the smell was awful and sour with huge black bags over-flowing the four rubber cans lining one wall.  People had started simply piling stuff up on the chipped stone floor around the cans in a haphazard heap, and I’m sorry to say that I joined in as the cans were heaping.  The recycle area was filled and brimming as well with stacks of paper and bags of cans, bottle and plastic dumped in piles against the far corner.  There were cardboard boxes off to the other side, as well as discarded and broken furniture, old light stands, stacks of book, cracked Tupperware bowls, the cast off of Chelsea’s finest.  The list went on and on.  Being a bachelor and none too proud I of course glanced at the refuse looking to see if there was anything that I could possibly use.  One man’s garbage is another’s treasure they say- though I’ve never actually heard anyone say it.

 

I heard the elevator pause finally, then start up again after a moment, on its way back down from six.  I took a final look at a little, wobbly table then headed back towards the elevator.  I heard a loud click as I passed the laundry room though, one of the dryers, and I looked in.  I was surprised that there was someone up and about doing their wash already, even though it was after eight, actually closer to nine.  Most of the people in my building were either out by that time or didn’t get moving until noon I had learned, seeing the same faces most every day.  Those people going to work by nine was the reason the elevator was usually tied up, as the lazy bastards on the upper floors were too put out and self-important to take the stairs, which I would have done except that the outer basement door was usually locked from the courtyard behind the building to keep out the riff-raff.  It was a fire exit really, and the Super was the only one that used it.

 

The laundry room was dark as the lights were on a timer switch, but I could see the fading glow of the indicator light of one of the machines that had just shut off.  I heard the slam of a door on the first floor and the clack of heels overhead and knew that I should just go, but…

 

The elevator started up into the building again, so I headed into the laundry room.  I turned the switch and saw the room, not so different from the rest of the basement.  It was big, with four washers shoved against one weathered wall and three old dryers lining another with just a bit of space behind for maintenance.  There was a table for sorting clothes and a couple plastic baskets on that, two benches and two windows flanking the dryers.  There was another door that was always locked and had no handle, a closet I assumed.  The ceiling was criss-crossed with piping and air ducts, as well as power meters for most of the building’s apartments lining two of the walls.  There was a huge gaping hole over one of the dryers from a bad leak years past that had never been properly fixed.  There was a scrubbing sink next to the washers, and a big, plastic garbage pail next to that half-filled with detergent boxes and bottles.  Too, the smell of the garbage was in the room, it was so close, despite the fact that the windows were flung wide open.

 

The elevator was still rumbling as I approached the stopped machine and peered through the convex window.  I licked my lips and looked around nervously as though expecting hidden cameras to be pointing my way.  I was alone, but I was sweating bullets in the humidity and my anxieties were running rampant.  I was shaking as I glanced over my shoulder again, then opened the dryer door.

 

I delicately pulled out a shining pair of silky gold panties.  They were skimpy, almost a thong, and it was that, which had first caught my attention and called me into the room.  I suppose it was the magazines and the stories and pictures therein that had fueled my courage, but as I held up the panties I knew that I was done.  They were beautiful and clean, and I tried to imagine whom they might belong to as I held them up to my face and breathed in that fresh, laundered smell.

 

I jumped, turning quickly upon hearing a door slam, but then the elevator groaned to life again and I sighed in relief.  I was shaking from the moment and sweating bullets as I returned my attention to the silky soft under ware in my hand.  It was intoxicating, feeling the soft material against my face, wondering who owned them and where they might have been.  Well, I knew where they had been, but you understand…

 

I jumped again, actually crying out in surprise at the sudden flash of light that illuminated the room and cast my shadow starkly on the dryers.  I spun about, eyes wide only to be blinded by another brilliant flare.  And another as I staggered back, blinking and rubbing at the spots dancing in my sight, just making matters worse.  I realized then that I still had the panties in hand and quickly lowered my arms to a fourth flash.

 

I resigned to stand there stupidly as my vision swam, the glowing spots slowly fading.  I could see a shadowy figure coming into focus standing in the doorway of the laundry room.  After a moment I could tell that it was a woman, and in another few seconds I recognized her.

 

She was tall- taller than I was actually as I was only about five and a half feet- and her body was tight, well muscled and in great shape I could tell at a quick glance.  She had long, lean legs and a trim waist with a full bosom hovering over all.  Her skin was a dark gold, tanned from the summer sun and she had her kinky red hair pulled up and twisted in a bun at the back of her head, off of her neck.  She was wearing short, denim shorts and a darker blue shell top that scooped at her breasts and showed off great cleavage- did I mention her ample bosom before, and her stiff nipples?  She had on huge golden hoop earrings and just a little make-up to accentuate her natural beauty; dark, smoky eyes of brown and full red lips.  She was staring daggers at me I saw, her brows knitted and those lips twisted into a sneer of disgust that wrinkled her nose a bit as she looked me up and down.  I couldn’t meet her scrutiny or hold her gaze from embarrassment and looked down to her feet, clad in dark blue leather casuals.  I licked my lips, shivering slightly and oddly excited.  I had been caught, and I could feel my penis swelling as humiliation washed over me in a hot wave, causing me to blush.

 

It was the Super’s daughter-in-law, just in case you hadn’t seen where this was going yet.  As I said, she lived in the near apartment in the basement, and what I had thought was the elevator door a floor above before must have been hers instead.  She was staring at me with a look of hatred, and I noticed as I tried to look at her face again that she was holding out her cell phone, and I realized then what had happened.  She had been taking my picture as I had been sniffing the panties from the dryer.  I was so busted…

 

“I fuckin’ knew it,” she said as she lowered the phone and planted her hands on her shapely hips.  Her eyes were crackling with anger, and I realized then that the laundry I had invaded must be hers.  “I told Roberto that someone was stealing my panties, but he just laughed it off.”  She snorted, smirking as she stared me down again.  “I never would have figured it was you.”

 

“I wasn’t-“ I started, but she cut me off quick.

 

“Shut up,” she said strolling into the room and looking about.  I could not believe that I was being accused of stealing panties.  That was the first time I had ever done such a thing, and I had not even considered taking the under ware- at least not yet.  I was being blamed for someone else’s crime.  There was someone else in the building with a bigger fetish than me.

 

She stopped right in front of me, looking me up and down with a sneer as I blushed.  I didn’t know what to do as she placed a hand on her hip and held up her phone again, looking at it.

 

“I ought’a call the police right now.  I have all I need to get you locked up.  Hell I know the cops won’t hold you long, but imagine what would happen in jail to a pervert like you.  And you won’t be staying here anymore, freak, be sure of that.  That I CAN do something about, you sick fuck,” she spat as her thumb drifted over the ‘Send’ button on her cell phone.  I could only imagine that she had 9-11 on ‘speed dial’, or maybe even the local precinct.  I stared at her thumb, the long, sculpted nail painted a soft metallic pink as it drifted over the tiny keypad on the phone.

 

I shivered in fright, afraid of what she might do.  She was right of course, and I could only imagine what the other inmates in jail might do to me, a wimp arrested for sniffing panties that I had pilfered from a dryer in the laundry room.  I would have to stay twenty-four hours at least, as I couldn’t afford a lawyer, and god knows what could happen in a day.  I would be some thug’s bitch for sure and duked up the ass constantly until I was released.  Whenever that might be.  I had horrors imagining being arrested for something I had never done, a name similar to mine popping out on a computer and me being locked away forever like that poor guy in that Pacino movie from the seventies.

 

“Please…” I whined, but she just gave me a hard, cold look.  Her name was Kristen or Christine, I couldn’t really recall though I had heard her husband call her Chris once.  “Christine…” I said, hoping I had guessed right, “Please.  It wasn’t me.  I didn’t- I haven’t been stealing panties…” It sounded pathetic even as I said it, and I could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t believe me.  She held up her phone, shook it at me-

 

“Yeah, right.  I’ve got the evidence right here, and I know the cops won’t believe you either.  You’re sick.  Better I get you arrested.  God knows how many women you’ve stole from in the building.  How many panties you got, huh?”

 

“None!’ I shouted and she stepped back a bit.  I licked my lips and hung my head, trying not to panic.  “This was the first, and I wasn’t stealing.  I-“

 

“Liar!”

 

My eyes went wide as she held her phone out at me like a weapon.  Her thumb played at the keyboard, hovering and barely hesitant.  I didn’t know what to do to prove my case.  I was fucked.

 

My eyes widened when Christine suddenly held out her hand.  I realized that she wanted the panties that were still dangling loosely in my fingers.  I raised my arm feeling a bit of hope-

 

She grabbed my hand, her fingers pressing into my thumb as she twisted and drove me to my knees.  I moaned as the pain washed over me, agonizing in my hand and thumb and coupled with the shock that shot through my legs as I dropped to the hard, cracked stone at her feet.  She twisted all the harder and tears welled in my eyes.

 

“Sick fuck,” she spat again, twisting casually and forcing me lower.

 

“Ahh…” I whined, looking up and seeing her staring down at me with a commanding smirk.  She seemed to be enjoying my pain and humiliation, but her hand still held the phone.  I gasped-

 

“Please…” I whined as she gritted her teeth, applying more pressure.  My forehead hit the floor as I whimpered, crying freely now at the pain.  I begged, “Please… Stop… I’ll d-do anything…”

 

I felt the pressure ease off for a moment, just a tiny bit.

 

“Anything?”

 

I sensed more than saw through my tear filled haze her slim foot slide forward right under my face.  My head was so low that I could smell the worn leather of her shoe, the odors of her foot’s sweat and whatever powders or lotions that she used.  I stared at her shoe right beneath me, saw her toes wiggle under the leather as she waited.  I wondered what she wanted for a second, then knew.  I wondered how SHE knew.  I leaned down and pressed my lips to the toecap of her navy leather casual.

 

She did not move while I kissed her foot.  She did not say a word when I started licking, cleaning the dirt from the top and sides of her shoe.  She leaned back at one point and raised her foot a bit, cocking back on her heel to let me get at her sole.  I licked all the harder, seeing a chance to avoid jail and make amends.  I had no problem humiliating myself to avoid arrest, and in truth it was simply playing on the fantasies that I had developed over the last few days.  Finally she released my hand and stepped back out of reach.

 

I crumpled in a heap on the stone floor, holding my aching wrist and trying to control my tears.  After a few moments I sniffed and gathered just enough courage to look up at her hopefully.  She was standing there with her cell phone still open and in hand as she looked down.  Her other hand was on her cocked hip, but she was chewing on her lower lip and giving me a long, contemplative look.  She was thinking…

 

I gasped to see her thumb press down on the keyboard of her phone.  She just laughed-

 

“Relax, stupid,” she chuckled, shaking her head as though I were an idiot.  “I’m not calling the police- yet.  I just sent your pretty pictures off to my e-mail, and to a friend’s just in case.”  She finally flipped the lid on her cell phone closed and clipped it to her belt loop as she stepped forward and up to my prostrate body.  I was still rubbing my wrist and thumb as I looked up her forever-long legs to see her cruel smile and sparkling eyes.  I sniffed back my tears.

 

“Please…” I whined, my voice catching and I swallowed.  “What are you going to do?”  She smirked and squatted down before me, her dark eyes flashing with delight over my position, and hers.

 

“It’s what you’re going to do, freak,” she snapped as she reached out and snagged a fistful of my long, brown hair in her fist.  She twisted, laughing as I squealed with a fresh wave of pain.  I had always kept my sandy hair long, as I liked it that way, but it had always been my downfall as well.  All through school I had had to put up with Gay jokes and more than my fair share of beatings.  I wasn’t tall as I said before, and I had always been slender bordering on thin.  I was an easy target for the jocks and bullies at school, all the more so, as the girls seemed to like my looks.  Most had always considered me pretty rather than handsome, some actually saying I was a bit effeminate.  Regardless, I got dates, just one more reason for the school thugs to hate me.

 

“It’s how much you don’t want to go to jail, and what you’re willing to do for me.  You said anything?” she smiled, her white teeth flashing in the queer light of the laundry room.  I guess I was too slow in answering as she jerked my hair again causing me to gasp-

 

“Yes!” I hissed through gritted teeth as she shook my head.  “Anything!”

 

“Good.”  She smirked as she released her hold on my hair, caressing my cheek with her smooth hand as she let go.  She patted my face sharply and stood.

 

“I gotta make a call.  I want you to go back to your apartment- 6M right?  Hey!  You heard?”

 

“6M… “ I whimpered, nodding, staring at the floor at her feet.

 

“Okay.  Answer when I ask you something, bitch!  Go home and wait for me-“

 

“I have work to-“ Her foot shot out and slammed into my side, knocking me to a heap on the floor again.

 

“You got nothin’ ‘til I say so.  Got it!” It was a statement rather than a question, and to enforce her sudden authority she leaned in and placed a foot on my shoulder.  She shoved me back and I slammed up against the dryer.  Despite what I had done, I didn’t deserve this.  I couldn’t believe that I was letting this woman beat me up and order me around, but I was scared too.  Jail was still a frightening option at that point at least.

 

She placed her fists on her hips again; striking a pose that was both sexy and tough all at once.  She stared down at me, her eyes crackling with fury as her lips twisted into a hateful sneer once more.  “Go home now!  I ought’a make you crawl up the stairs for giving me lip, but later for that.  You be waiting when I come too.  And take those panties, bitch.  I don’t want ‘em anymore after your grimy hands been on ‘em.”

 

I stared at the silky gold panties still crumpled in my hand.  I had thought she had taken them when she had twisted my wrist, but I still had them, and had forgotten them completely.  I heard her foot tapping as I struggled to rise on shaking legs, and struggled all the harder.

 

I was sweating bullets again- still- and quivering both from fear and excitement.  I was wearing blue jeans, so I doubted that she could see the tiny swelling in my crotch, but I was afraid to look down and direct her attention to it.  Too, it felt damp, and I thought I was dripping.  I swallowed and stared at her still tapping foot-

 

“Go!” she snapped, then laughed as I actually ran from the room and back into the outer hallway.  I charged right up to the elevator and pushed the button, hoping that it was close and unoccupied.  I heard the dryer door open again back in the laundry room, though I didn’t remember closing it.  Maybe she had more than one load.  God, my mind was awhirl, thoughts slamming randomly about my head.

 

I heard her moving around and the dryer door finally slammed shut.  The elevator rumbled to life again and I cursed, wishing it faster.  I peered through the dirty little pane of glass set into the door, staring into the darkness to see a thick metal cable snaking along, looping downward and coiling in the depths-

 

“You better be gone when I’m done, bitch!”

 

God, I almost wet my pants.  I saw a flicker of movement in the shaft, swirling dust as the car came into view even as I heard her footsteps.  I closed my eyes, actually praying as I heard the rattle of the inner door.  I looked and flung the outer door open, slamming my shoulder against the jamb in my rush to get inside.  I punched the number to my floor over and over, cursing, wishing the door closed.

 

I saw a shadow beyond the window even as the car finally started to rise.  I slumped against the back wall of the car in some relief, wiping sweat from my brow and realized that I was still clutching the panties.  I sighed, hoping that the car would not stop…

 

TWO

 

 

 

I sat pristinely, all prim and proper on the edge of my bed, waiting…

 

I had gotten back to my little room without incident, thankfully, only seeing one of my neighbors as I unlocked my door and shoved my way inside.  I slammed and locked the door again behind me, slumping back and taking a deep breath, trying to calm down.  I was still shaking and sweating.  My heart was beating a mile a minute and I could still feel my erection pressing for some release.  I could taste dirt and grit in my mouth from her shoe, and a bit of gravel crunched as I bit down.

 

I looked at my tiny apartment.  It was an SRO- a Single Room Occupancy- and it was just barely big enough for me and the little bit of furniture that I had.  A small single bed, which was barely a step up from a cot was provided, and in a small alcove there was an old, dirty sink that only ran cold water and dripped from beneath into a jar that I placed on the floor.  That was where I pissed on occasion, when I was too lazy to head down the hall to the communal bath and shower in the middle of the night.  Not the most sanitary conditions I know, but I kept it as clean as I could.  There was a tiny refrigerator too, barely big enough to hold a six-pack of cans and a package of cheese.  Right then I believe there were two cans of beer and a half loaf of bread within.  Maybe some packets of ketchup.

 

There was a slim closet that had a couple small shelves and a space to hang a few shirts in a cramped space against the far side wall and three tiny cabinets above the alcove stuffed with junk like my iron and blow-dryer, a few pots and pans and a hot plate, a Mister Coffee machine.  There was a window on the back wall and a stand-pipe running floor to ceiling connected to a small radiator that provided a little warmth in the winter.  As far as furniture went, I had a dresser angled in the corner, and it was heaping with junk like magazines and clothes, boxes and a rack containing the month's unpaid bills.  All the drawers were stuffed with clothes and books with little room left, not that I bought anything new.  That was a rarity, beyond shoes, of which I had three pair; one dress for nice, a pair of tennis shoes and a pair of casual loafers.

 

At the foot of my bed on a small table sat my laptop.  That was where I did the bulk of my work, writing and such.  I had a phone but used it mainly to order in food and to connect to the Internet.  I had a scanner as well, for when I needed to scan in a drawing I had done, situated in its box under the table.  Beneath my bed I kept my drawing pads and other things that I needed for my work; an over-sized clip board for support when I worked, a set of paints and graphite chunks, pastels and the usual ruler and compass, erasers, things like that.  Too, I had the bondage magazines shoved under there, as well as a few other books I used for anatomy and references for positioning and things like cars and animals, buildings and landscapes.  You never know what you might need, and I had gathered a decent library over the years.

 

When I finally got moving I tossed the panties on the bed, only then worrying that my neighbor might have seen the golden silk crumpled in my hand in the hallway and recognized it for what it was.  I shook my head, something to worry over later and took a long look about.  I was not a neat person, but too, I was not a slob.  I never had company, so there were things sitting about that I never worried about before, or even noticed.  There were soda bottles and beer cans- though not too many of the latter as I had never held my liquor well.  There was no garbage, or little, as I dropped anything that might draw roaches as soon as I could.  I dropped the bottles into the recycle bag, then dropped that bag into the half-empty trash can shoved under the sink.  I picked up a few articles of laundry that I had yet to do: shorts and socks and a sweat-stained shirt, and stuffed that lot into one of my dresser drawers.  I made sure that all of my magazines- bondage or otherwise were shoved well and away under my bed and was contemplating sticking my laptop under there as well when I heard the knock on the door almost an hour later-

 

I licked my lips as I stared at the door, my eyes growing wide.  I started to shake again as a wave of excitement washed over me, starting me to sweat again.  I thought briefly about simply ignoring her, ignoring the knocking and hoping that she would just go away and forget about all of this.  I knew however that she wouldn’t.  She had me under her thumb, and if I didn’t do as she said I knew that she would have no problem calling the cops, or at least telling her father-in-law and getting me evicted.  I couldn’t afford a new apartment, and knowing that I lived in an SRO, she knew that as well, I imagined.  I was stuck.

 

I was just turning the bolt of the first lock as she knocked again, and I hurried.  I was going to suffer even worse for making her wait.  I fumbled the three locks open finally and sighed, swallowing.  I opened the door.

 

She was standing there in the hall, frowning, scowling really, as she looked me up and down, then stared into my face.  She looked the same, but she was carrying a purse now; an over-sized black leather bag slung over one shoulder.

 

“Move,” she said and shoved past, barely giving me a chance to step aside and lock the door behind her.  When I turned I found her sitting on the bed and looking around the tiny room.  “You actually live here?” she asked as a look of disgust darkened her face.

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said humbly, hoping she would appreciate the respect.  She smirked, looking at me.

 

“What took you so long to open the door?  This place is so small, you had to be right here by the door.”

 

“I was just cleaning up a bit.  I don’t get many visitors and-“

 

“I didn’t tell you to do that,” she snapped.  “I told you to wait.  Don’t listen very well do you, stupid?”

 

“No, Ma’am,” I said, hanging my head, trying to play along.  I didn’t know what she wanted, or where this was going, but I was starting to expect the worst.  She crossed her long legs then, leaning back on her arms and swinging her leg.

 

“Still, it has potential,” she said, referring to my apartment.  “Not much bigger than a cell, which is what it’s gonna be from now on.”  She looked at me, raising an eyebrow, awaiting a reaction.  I almost said something, but decided against it, waiting.  She smiled-

 

“Good.  Now I was talking to a friend of mine.  A cop, and she said that though no judge would probably throw the book at you for stealing panties, odds are you could figure on thirty days plus, just to teach you a lesson.  Maybe more if the judge was a woman.  Thirty days ain’t much, but thirty days on Ryker’s Island and you’d come out walking funny at least.  Maybe a new man- or woman.  I’m sure the other inmates would love a pretty white boy like you.”  She laughed cruelly at my nod of agreement.  I was shaking again, and sweating, and she could see that I was nervous.  She let that sink in for a minute before continuing.

 

“Here’s the deal then.  You need to be punished, cuz I don’t want you digging through my clothes, and I know no other woman in the building wants that either.  It’s invasion of privacy, and theft, an’ I won’t stand for it.  Now I can call the cops, my friend and have you locked up, or, you can agree and I’ll handle your punishment.”

 

“What do you mean?” I asked, then winced, expecting her to yell again, but she didn’t.

 

“There’s things that need done around here.  Things that my husband and father-in-law have to do, but they both have real jobs and can’t always.  That means me and Rosa- the Super’s wife- have to pick up some of the slack, but we have lives too, y’know?”  She continued to swing her leg casually, looking around the room while she spoke.  I licked my lips as I stared at her foot, almost mesmerized by the subtle action.  It almost seemed like she was hypnotizing me with the simple swinging of her leg.

 

“I figure you can pick up that slack.  You can do some of the grunt work that my family does as your punishment.  Clean up the garbage.  Mop the floors.  Clean the bathrooms that sort of thing.  Whatever needs doing.”

 

“How long?”

 

She frowned at that, but rather than snap at me, finally shrugged.  “A month, maybe more, maybe less.  Depends on you and how much you want it to be over.  You do a good job, and don’t give me any lip; you might get time off for good behavior.  You whine like you were doing downstairs and you’ll get more.  It’s punishment, remember, and I got no problem calling the police.  And remember, I sent your pictures to my friend and you do anything stupid, she’ll call the cops instead.”

 

I stared at her feeling dizzy and weak.  There were now two others that knew, and I imagined that the Super’s wife would know soon enough as well when she saw me scrubbing floors and hauling garbage.  A month… She was suggesting a month of slavery basically, under her control.  And the only other option was a month in jail.  At the time I could only imagine that that would be worse.

 

“Okay,” I said with a sigh, nodding in submission.  She just laughed and started digging in her purse.  She pulled out a manila envelope, and produced some typed papers from that-

 

“Not that easy, bitch,” she said as she tossed the papers to the floor at her feet.  I sighed and bent to pick them up when she raised her leg and draped it over the back of my neck.  “Down,” she said, and as I got on my hands and knees to read the papers she crossed her legs at the ankles across my back.

 

I read the papers there on my knees, feeling the weight of her legs on my back.  There were five pages, all identical.  One for me I assumed and one for her, and the others for her friends I guessed.  They were contracts basically, complete with a confession that I had been stealing panties and that in lieu of a possible jail sentence I agreed to do penance under the authority of Christine Ruiz and any she deemed to help her for the period of at least one month, or until she decided I had paid my debt to society.  There was a place at the bottom to sign my name, but I saw that it had already been notarized and dated, and officially stamped- each copy.  It did not leave much question as to my rights- or lack there of, but I noticed that it did not specify what penalties I would suffer, and it left the time period a bit open ended.  Too, the part about anyone she deemed could join in on my punishment.  I wondered at the legality of the contract- and it was I knew as I had seen enough in my line of work- but was it legal?  I noted then that it had been signed and notarized by a judge apparently; Her Honor Marion Burns.  That name seemed familiar.

 

“Well?” I heard her ask as I shifted under her weight.  “Do you agree, or do I call the cops?”  I sagged.

 

“I agree…”

 

A pen clattered on the floor in front of me and I picked it up.  I bent low and signed each copy, signing my life away.  When I was done I gathered the papers and pen and handed them up to her.  I heard the papers ruffling as she looked at each for my signature, then clicked her tongue as she put them back into the envelope and into her purse, all but one that she left for me.  She removed her legs then, planting one on the floor and crossing the other so her foot was right in my face.  I leaned in, thinking that she wanted me to kiss her foot to seal the deal, but she pulled away-

 

“Strip!” she commanded, and I glanced up to see her grinning down at me.  She looked beautiful, domineering with that evil grin and her face in shadows from the overhead light.  She tapped me in the chin with her foot to get me moving.

 

“I want to see what you look like.  Stand up and get your clothes off, bitch.  Hurry up!”

 

She shifted her legs aside as I stood, finally folding them beneath her on the bed as she settled in to watch me undress.  I was burning with shame, though I had taken my clothes off in front of women before, it had never been like this, and the woman was usually undressing as well.  There was something really humiliating about having a woman order you to undress while she remained clothed.  It was an obvious show of power on her part, but it was making me hard all the same.

 

I took off my shirt and tossed it to the floor, then knelt to undo my shoes.  I chanced a glance and saw her smiling at me, leering really as she watched with a wicked grin.  I stood up and undid my jeans letting them drop to the floor and kicking them aside.  I then lowered my boxers, flushing red and she laughed to see what was underneath.  I was not big, and even fully erect- as I was- I was barely four raging inches.

 

“God,” she snorted, “you got stuck behind the door, hunh?  I’ve seen squirrels hold out bigger nuts than that.  Ha-Hah!”

 

It took awhile for her to regain her composure and I just stood there humiliated, at attention almost but with my head hanging low.  It was the worst experience in my life as this beautiful, sexy woman laughed at my manhood, at least up to that point.  This after being beaten to a pulp in school, once being shoved into a locker for three hours, pantsed in the crowded lunch room.  This was the worst.

 

I looked up when she had finally stopped laughing and saw her holding out the golden panties, dangling them on her finger.  “Put these on,” she said, “there’s nothin’ there worth looking at.”

 

I took the panties and stepped into them, slid them up my legs.  I was surprised that they fit as well as they did, but then she was bigger than me in a few ways.  I cupped my balls in the fabric and turned them, feeling the thin strip in the back quickly wedging in my ass.

 

“Nice…” she cooed, eyeing me and motioning that I should spin for her.  I felt her cool fingers as she adjusted them a bit, tugging at the waist and leg seams before digging her nails into my ass cheek for a nasty pinch.  I yelped and spun about, but she just laughed.  She leaned over and started digging in her purse again-

 

“Turn around!” she commanded, so I turned my back to her.  A second later I felt her grab my right wrist and jerk it back.  There was a ripping sound and I felt her wrapping something- duct tape- about my wrist.  I tried to pull away, but she slapped my panty clad ass and told me to hold still as she took my other hand and started to bind my arms behind me.  I wondered what was happening, what she was planning, but it was exciting me no end all the same.

 

After a few criss-crossing turns she ripped off the end and pressed it down.  She tugged on the makeshift bonds, and apparently satisfied, spun me about again.  She then stood and told me to lay down on the bed, which I did.  Like I said, I was excited by this, but I was also scared, wondering what she had planned.  She had obviously come prepared and full of ideas.

 

I watched as Christine undid the clasp on her denim shorts and let them fall to the floor.  I saw that she was wearing a skimpy pair of lacy black panties as she stepped out of her shorts and climbed up onto the bed to straddle me.  She inched up onto my body, pinning my shoulders before she finally settled on my chest and neck with her crotch right up close to my face.  She was grinning down at me as I stared up at her in confusion.  Obviously I knew what was about to happen, I just did not understand why.  I was supposed to be being punished wasn't I?

 

“This will be the only time this happens for your pleasure,” she said in a husky voice, licking her lips.  She stared down at me, her dark eyes smoldering as she stretched back and undid the beret that held her hair in place.  She shook her hair out, and I moaned at her beauty as her curly auburn hair flowed about her shoulders.  There was the slightest sheen of perspiration on her skin from the heat and humidity in my apartment and it made her dark, golden skin glisten in the glare of the light overhead.  She seemed an angel almost with that light behind her, casting her face in shadows but making her hair glow like a halo about her head and face.

 

Worse, I could smell her sex as she scooted closer, getting comfortable on my captive form.  I was trapped beneath her, and it was getting harder to breathe but I didn’t care as I breathed deep of her womanhood.  I could see the dampness in the thin fabric of her black panties and knew that the whole scene was making her hot as well.  Finally she leaned forward, pressing her legs in as her crotch covered my lower face, planting her hands against the wall for support as she gasped-

 

“Lick…”

 

God I did.

 

I licked for all I was worth.

 

I don’t know why I wanted her, wanted to please her, but I did.  She was abusing me- hell, raping me in a way I supposed, but I didn’t care.  I licked, stretching my tongue as far and as hard as I could, shoving it against her thin panties and reveling in the slightest taste that I got.  Her pussy was hot, on fire and dripping with excitement as she ground forward, riding my face.  I felt her jerk as I rammed my nose forward, shoving my tongue against the thin fabric and touching dampness, the slick lips just out of reach.  She moaned as she inched forward, pressing in, wanting it, wanting release and I just pressed all the harder.

 

I squirmed beneath her weight as she squeezed her thighs tightly, trapping my head in a spot that she liked, forcing me to lick all the harder.  I did without pause, hearing the blood rushing through my ears.  She leaned back and I gasped for breath before going at it again.  I felt her fingers tickling at my cock, her nails scratching, teasing.  Her other hand drifted to my nipple and started to pinch and twist, causing me to buck with the pain.  I nibbled at her cunt, driving my face forward and she moaned all the harder, rocking.

 

I could feel her shoes scraping and scratching at my thighs as she locked my legs into place the better to hold me down.  She arched her back, and I actually felt her hair tickling my legs.  When she came forward again I drove my nose deeper, biting and grinding on her pussy.  She grabbed at my hair, pulling and I screamed but she just inched forward, muffling my cries.  She held me there, cursing me, urging me on-

 

“Yes…Yes… Yes!”

 

She screamed finally and simply collapsed, falling back onto my body.  I could feel her warmth and sweat as she lay there, barely moving, moaning with the release of orgasm.  I gulped for air, still smelling her sex, as her crotch was still right by my face.  My cock was straining for release, pressing into her back but I doubt she even noticed.

 

It was sometime before she sat up again and I saw that she was dripping wet, her hair matted down and her skin shining with perspiration.  She was heaving, trying to get her breath and gather her composure as she stared down at me.  She ran a hand back through her hair, and then I felt her fingers playing at my nipples again.

 

“God,” she gasped, smiling warmly, “you’re good.  Your nose…” she shivered and smiled all the wider as she pinched my nipple, making me squirm.

 

“Please,” I begged.  God I wanted release, but she just smirked, dabbing at the sweat on her chest with a towel she had grabbed up from the floor as she dug her nails into my nipple.  She tossed the towel aside after a bit, then took a moment to tie her damp hair back again before she leaned over and started to dig through her purse, still straddling my chest.

 

After a moment she produced a pack of cigarettes, and then a disposable lighter and what looked like a joint from the crumpled pack.  She grinned as she slipped the joint between her lips and breathed deeply as she sparked it to life.  I watched her chest expand as she inhaled, holding in the smoke as she held the twisted butt down to my lips.  I closed my mouth, shaking my head.

 

Christine scowled, blowing the smoke into my face.  I coughed and hacked, trying to breathe.  I had never been good with drugs and alcohol.  I have beer on occasion, but I get buzzed fast so generally stayed away.  Maybe it was my slim frame and body, or maybe just me.  I had not eaten yet though, so I knew that I would be flying quickly if I joined in.  She did not seem to care.

 

Christine slipped the joint between her lips again and took another drag even as she pressed one hand over my mouth and pinched my nostrils closed with the other.  She grinned down at me as she held it in, watching me squirm as my breath quickly evaporated and I was soon squirming in her grip.  She leaned in close, face to face before she released me-

 

She pressed her lips to mine as she took her hands away, exhaling into my mouth as I gasped for air.  I started choking and gasping even as she leaned back and quickly gagged me again and pinched my nose shut.  I was gagging, my coughing fit caught beneath the soft flesh of her palm as she laughed, enjoying my squirming, my wide eyes.  My terror as I truly thought I might die.

 

I didn’t though, and she took another long drag as she finally let me breathe, all too soon leaning in and breathing the marijuana smoke down my throat as I gasped for breath.  I gagged again as she laughed, sprawling forward and licking at my throat, kissing me as I squirmed beneath her.  I felt her teeth nibbling at my ear, biting and tugging as I tried to get away.  Her tongue slipped into my ear and I felt my penis pulse and explode…

 

She was whispering, urging me on as I rocked beneath her.  I was gasping, trying to hold back and trying to come all at once as she slid the joint into my mouth.  I gagged, too late, sucking in the smoke as she laughed again, digging her tongue into that soft spot under my jaw and making me quiver.

 

“C’mon, baby,” she cooed, “breathe… take it in…”

 

She clapped her hand over my mouth, holding the joint in place and forcing me to take a drag despite myself.  My head was already spinning from my orgasm and the smoke, and I couldn’t focus.  I tried to look at her but she seemed distorted and evil as she leaned in, then reared back suddenly, knowing what I was seeing and playing on the imagery that I was spinning through my sight.  I moaned, whimpering and shaking my head as I tried to get away, but it was useless.

 

I could not focus when she finally eased back, snuffing the joint between her fingertips and tossing it into the sink.  The room spun as I tried to see, and when I closed my eyes it just spiraled all the worse.  I thought I was going to vomit as I forced my eyes wide, straining to ease the confusion.  And I was spent, as my orgasm had left me weak and exhausted, quick and short-lived as it was.  I could see Christine above me, her glorious chest huge and hovering, her wicked face lost in the shadows beyond.  Her eyes were white slits staring down at me, her smile a thin slash of white, her heaving breasts, the pressure of her hot, muscular legs holding me tight…

 

I heard the 1812 Overture and giggled stupidly, assuming that I must be dead…

 

“Yeah?”

 

I opened my eyes and saw Christine, her face swirling in the shadows but illuminated slightly as she held something to her ear.  I started to giggle again and she squeezed her thighs, her fingers scratching at my nose, dipping into my mouth…

 

“Yeah, I did… No… No, I’m looking at him right now.  I’m sitting on him…”

 

She giggled, clacking her nails against my teeth as I licked at her fingertips.

 

“He did, no problem.  He was happy to.  He likes this I think… Yeah.”

 

I stared at her as she traced a finger down my chin and throat.  She started to scratch at my nipple with her free hand, twisting and pinching again.  I whimpered and moaned as the room spun away…

 

“Okay.  I’ll call you in a bit.  Right… Bye!”

 

I whimpered as she snapped the cell phone shut and finally climbed off of my chest.  She stared down at me with a pleasant grin as she toweled herself off again, then slipped back into her shorts, zipping them up.  I almost came at the sound.

 

“You got a case for that laptop?” she asked, nodding at my computer as she tossed the towel to the floor.  Without thinking I said-

 

“Under… the bed,” and immediately regretted it.  She crouched down, her hand on my stomach for support as she started to pull things from under my bed.  I knew what she would find before she got to the carry bag for my laptop…

 

“Well…” she cooed and I simply moaned.  I was fucked, deeper and deeper.

 

She stood, holding my stash of bondage magazines with a wide grin.  She looked down on me.  “Seems you DO like this,” she said as she set the magazines down and squatted again.  Eventually she came up with the leather carry case and set it roughly on my belly before reaching for my laptop.

 

“Any passwords on this thing?” she asked as she set it in the case and secured it.

 

“No,” I said.  I had it all set up for my convenience.  There were no passwords on the main set up and all the sites I visited were set up with ‘cookies’ to let me in, no problem.  My bad.  She smirked as she zipped the case closed after tossing the magazines in.  She slipped the case over her shoulder and then grabbed her purse again.

 

“Good.  Looks like I’m gonna have some fun then.  Roberto won’t be back for hours, so I have plenty of time.”

 

I looked at the clock and saw that it wasn’t even 12 noon.

 

“What about me?” I asked, starting to worry.  “You can’t just leave me here, like this.”

 

“Oh, you’re right,” she said with a frown, setting down the case again.  She started to dig through her purse…

 

In the end she had flipped me over onto my stomach and bound my ankles with a swath of duct tape.  She then folded up my legs and tied my ankles to my wrists, leaving me in a tight hog-tie.  As a final note she grabbed one of my dirty socks and stuffed it into my mouth before applying several more strips of the silver tape to gag me, finally wrapping three long strips all the way about my head, though luckily under my hair.  When she was done I could barely move and couldn’t make a sound above a muffled grunt.

 

She laughed, shouldering my computer bag again and her purse as well.  I looked up at her, but I still could not focus from the joint and had to finally close my eyes as the room started to spin.

 

“I’ll be back in the morning.  I hope you enjoyed this, cuz now you’re mine, bitch.  Play time’s over…”

 

My eyes flashed open again and I stared at her, struggling a bit but I was too wasted and weak.  She just laughed as she snatched up my keys and opened the door, leaving.  I remember hearing the door slam shut, the locks turning and sliding into place with a hollow finality.  I imagine that I heard her as she walked away down the hall…

 

I was alone…

 

I struggled of course, but it didn’t take me too long to realize that I was caught and trapped.  Christine had bound me tightly, tight enough to hold me until morning at least, when my real penance would begin.  Or I guess that it already had.

 

The room continued to spin as I moaned, pressing my face into the pillow.  I was trapped.  Bound and gagged on my bed, unable to get away.  Worse, my captor was probably going through my most private thoughts all gathered on my laptop.  I knew that she would be reading through the bondage mags and thinking up new ideas.

 

I was so screwed…

 

I moaned, thrashing about in my bondage to no avail.  I was stuck.  Bound and gagged and helpless…

 

It wasn’t even noon…

 

God…

 

THREE

 

 

 

That first day seemed to take forever to pass…

 

It took hours it seemed before my high finally passed.  I couldn’t focus for the longest time, and closing my eyes only made the condition worse as my head started to spin.  The whole effect coupled with the heat and exhaustion from my orgasm had left me feeling queasy and I could feel my stomach churning.  Worse, Christine had not even bothered to clean me up, and had left me wearing the panties that were now sticky with drying cum.  Every time I shifted in my bondage I was reminded and could feel the tug on the thin patch of pubic hair about my groin.  I didn’t have much down there, but it was enough that I felt it, sometimes painfully.

 

It was getting hot too.  The weather was scheduled to be hot and humid again, ninety at least and the thick humidity would drive the Heat Index over one hundred.  That meant that before too long my tiny apartment would turn into a sweatbox.  My room was situated so that I saw the sun early, and by noon it had moved on, but I was on the building’s top floor and that meant that the sun would beat down on the roof for the better part of the day, magnifying the heat.  My one window was open, thankfully, but with the door locked there would be no breeze.  I had a little fan to oscillate the air, but it was switched off and out of reach on the floor.

 

After an hour I was sweating like a pig- a bound pig ready for the slaughter I might add.  Perspiration was stinging my eyes, and as the air in my room got thicker I found it harder and harder to breathe as my mouth was sealed tightly.  Worse, with the window open, flies had found their way inside and were constantly lighting on my bound, sweaty form, annoying and jerking me back to reality.  I would thrash about, and they would fly off for a bit but quickly returned throughout the day and night as well.

 

That was annoying, even aggravating at times, but far worse was the sheer boredom.  I had read in the bondage mags that I had been loaned some of the stories of men and women being bound on end for hours, even days at a time.  I was starting to doubt the veracity even after just an hour of my own captivity.  There was simply nothing to do.  There was nothing to hold my attention, especially after my high had evaporated and I could focus again.  There was no television or radio, no book to read.  My sight even was limited to as far as I could wiggle about and crane my neck.  That left me a limited view of the room I knew all too well already.  I could see my pillow.  I could stare at my locked door and a bit of the space at that end of the apartment but there was really nothing to keep me focused.

 

I tried doing things in my head; word games, counting, reciting passages from books that I had read and been forced to memorize in school.  Nothing held my attention for long, and even if it did the damn flies would land and snap me back to the reality of my situation.  It was frustrating beyond belief, and more than once I lost it, thrashing wildly- at least as wildly as I could- in my bonds.  Breathing through my nose however I soon became winded and weak and quickly exhausted.  I would lie there heaving, and then the flies would come back again…

 

Over and over…

 

Despite my exhaustion I learned soon enough that sleep was impossible, at least at first.  I was tired from my ordeal, but I wasn’t sleepy yet, and that was another frustration.  Even after the effects of the joint had worn off I was still wide-awake, feeling the growing pain and restlessness of my bondage, aware of the flies and the heat.  And of course the glare of the overhead light beaming down on me, which Christine had left on, probably on purpose.  Too, my apartment was situated right next to the elevator and so that was another distraction whenever I did doze through the course of the long day.

 

There were twelve apartments on the sixth and fifth floor I recalled- just one of the things I thought about laying there.  Four of those on each, including mine were SROs, then of course normal studios with bathrooms and one and two bedroom apartments as well.  Directly across the hall from mine was a small studio where a young Asian woman lived.  I had seen her a few times in passing, and I even knew her name- a rarity in Manhattan- as I had taken in a UPS package for her once.  The adjacent apartment was another SRO, and another woman lived there.  She was about my age and I had met her as well, though under less pleasant circumstance as I had to pound on her door a few times to get her to turn down her music.  We thus did not have a decent relationship and never even exchanged greetings if we happened to meet in the building.

 

On the other side of my apartment was the elevator.  Under normal conditions- that being not bound and gagged on my bed- I would be able to tune out the grinding noise of the elevator’s engines that constantly seemed to be running.  Even in the middle of the night the elevator would moan and groan and come to life, rumbling as it rose or fell.  Usually, once I was finally asleep I would keep right on and sleep through the noise, only occasionally waking when the outer door slammed with someone getting off on my floor.  However, helpless as I was, I heard every little noise that the elevator made.  And it made a lot.

 

I lost track of the number of times that the car made a run, and I realized just how many people in my building either worked at home or just had nothing to do during the day, busy as it was.  Of course in all that were deliveries and mail and more mundane things, but it was really mind-boggling, or at least seemed that way to me in my frustration and boredom.  Worse too was that my mind kept going back to the fact that all of those people were free and mobile and in control of their lives, whatever they were.  They could come and go at will and enjoy whatever they were doing, be it simply walking around or going out to lunch, to run errands, do laundry, whatever.  It was depressing and frustrating, and even humiliating to know that life went on whether I was involved in it or not.  And tied to my bed I was definitely not involved in the slightest.

 

My floor itself seemed a non-stop flurry of activity.  All day long I would hear footsteps echoing down the hall, up and down the stairs situated at the opposing ends, occasionally voices talking, laughing and the constant slam of the elevator’s outer door.  It made me crazy as I squirmed in my bondage to hear all of these people free and going on about their daily lives, all totally oblivious of me lying helplessly just a few feet away separated by a few inches of wood and metal.

 

I was jolted from a semi-conscious daze at one point by the heavy door only to hear two high-pitched female voices in the hall and growing louder.  I glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly five in the evening and I had only been left alone for five hours now, but it even then seemed like eternity.

 

I squirmed and writhed about in my bonds, hearing the giggles of laughter and ‘hushed’ whispers coming closer.  I grunted into my gag from useless effort, hearing their footfalls stop near my door and half-thought that maybe Christine had returned.  I quickly realized that it was the student across the hall however, hearing her locks sliding and turning, the creak of her door and then a slam and locking again.  I moaned, dropping my head into my smelly pillow again, wondering if I had the balls to cry for help.

 

Even if I did, would anyone hear me?  I could barely hear myself, my loudest screams muffled too well by the swath of duct tape and the filthy sock in my mouth that held my tongue down, my mouth packed and soaked up my spittle.  It hurt to scream, and I realized then how thirsty I was.  I wasn’t hungry yet, and my stomach was still upset from the marijuana high, but I knew that would come soon enough.  Too, I wondered what would happen when I had to go to the bathroom.  I wondered if Christine had considered that in my punishment.  Figure she did, and was probably relishing the thought of berating me for messing the bed.

 

I heard the elevator again not too long after five, followed by the clack of high heels in the hall.  I grunted again, twisting as I listened and heard my next-door neighbor opening her locks and door.  I would definitely not be calling her for help, as I could only imagine how she would take advantage of my situation to exact a little revenge over our little feud.  Hell, I had been heated and rude the third time I had pounded on her door and then regretted it when I had seen how gorgeous she was, finally meeting her face to face.  She was about my age, and attractive; a businesswoman of some sort by the way she dressed.  An up and coming yuppie, though I was hardly in a position to talk.  At any rate, we were definitely not friends, though we had achieved a truce of sorts, but I still doubted she would take kindly to finding me bound and gagged and at her mercy.

 

Oddly I did not hear her door close again right away.  I craned my neck a bit, looking over the edge of my bed and saw the flicker of shadow at the base of my door, and movement.  I listened intently, wondering what was happening when I lurched at a quick rapping on my door, scaring the shit out of me.  I stared at the door in a panic, wondering why she was there and what she could possibly want.  God, what if Christine and her were friends- THE friend that my captor had sent that incriminating e-mail to?  What if my neighbor had the keys to my apartment?

 

I jumped again as the knocking repeated.  I held my breath, watching the shadows at the bottom of my door then sighed when she finally stepped away.  I sagged in my bonds when I heard the door shut and lock, realizing that I was safe again- relatively speaking of course.

 

Then the music started.

 

I heard the blare, the thump of bass seeping through the walls and with a groan I quickly realized why she had knocked.  My neighbor was simply checking to see if I was at home so that she could blast her music.  And blast it she did.  All night long…

 

The community bathroom was on the far side of her apartment, and I knew that the student across the hall, if she could even hear the music, would not care, as she was almost as bad at times.  The space of the hall and the walls of course muffled most of her noise from my neighbor and I, and vice-versa I’m sure.  So for my next-door neighbor, I was the only real problem, which kept her from enjoying her music at a volume that she enjoyed.  If she knew that I was not home- or at least did not know any better, I’m certain she felt she had free reign and apparently that night planned to make the most of it.

 

And so it went, all-day and well into the night.  I started to drift off in a daze eventually, sort of a bored half-doze, but there seemed always something to drag me back to my predicament.  The coming and going in the hall and constant rumble of the elevator.  The blare of non-stop music that droned on well into the night.  The heat that barely diminished after the sun went down, and the constant buzzing and tickling of the flies on my sweaty body.  The perpetual glare of the bright, overhead light beaming down on me.  Too, I started to feel the pain of being trapped in the same position for so long.

 

My shoulders and wrists were aching after just a few hours, and soon my legs started to cramp as well.  I did what I could, wiggling my fingers and toes, drawing in my limbs as much as I could, but any relief I gained did not last long at all.  Too, nodding off as I was I quickly started getting a stiff neck, and my jaw was sore from being forced open with my gagged packing.  There was a smell as well, of the unwashed me, and that just got worse the more I sweated into my already dirty sheets.

 

Something woke me from a fitful doze later.  What, I didn’t know at first, but the reason soon became apparent.

 

I heard the music still thumping through the wall as I moaned, popping my neck and looking to the clock near the sink.  It was after ten, and surprisingly I had drifted off for awhile, but this time it was my own body, which had awakened me.

 

I felt the pressure in my bladder soon enough and realized that the accident I had earlier worried over was about to occur.  I gritted my teeth and tried to hold it in, and succeeded for awhile, but I suppose I had already been doing so in sleep.  I felt the first trickle as I squeezed my legs together, but that just made it worse.  The trickle quickly became a stream, and then a steady gush.  I felt the warmth spreading sloppily beneath me and I groaned, partially from relief but more from sheer embarrassment.  I had not wet the bed since I had been in grade school- well, except for that night that I had my first wet dream years later.  Anyway, it was humiliating to lose total control like that, and it was even more of a reminder that my life was in someone else’s hands.  And then to just have to lie in my mess for the rest of the night.  It was too much.

 

The elevator door woke me again, finally.  And again I moaned, glancing at the clock to see that I had finally made it through the night.  It was almost eight, so I knew that it was morning though it took me quite awhile to comprehend that and get my head together.

 

I stretched and wiggled about as best as I could, breathing deeply despite the smell of sweat and urine that hung in the thick, humid air.  It was still hot and stagnant in my room, though a little better.  The piss beneath me had dried somewhat during the night, but now the sheet was stiff and scratchy, and the panties too were stiff with the stain.  My shoulders were throbbing with my movement, but my hands and feet were numb and my fingers and toes started to tingle a bit as I wiggled them back to life.  Too, I was parched, and at that point I realized that I was looking forward to Christine’s return if only for the- hopefully- relief she might bring.

 

And as if on cue I heard her voice out in the hallway-

 

“Good morning,” she said to someone, and I heard another voice respond in kind, then-

 

“Where’s Carl?” I wondered who was asking after me, and for that matter, who on the floor actually knew my name.  A woman’s voice, but neither of my closest neighbors.

 

“He’ll be back today,” Christine answered and I heard her slide a key into one of the locks on my door.  “He had to go away yesterday, and he asked me to feed his fish this morning…”

 

I listened to them chatting as Christine unlocked my door without a care.  As though I was not bound and gagged right on the other side.  I hoped to hell that she would not open the door before my neighbor left and sighed with relief when I heard them say ‘good bye’.

 

A wave of cool air washed over me as my door finally opened and my kidnaper stepped inside.  She quickly shut the door behind her and spun the locks back into place before dropping my keys back into her leather purse, then turning her attention on me-

 

“Good morning,” she chimed in a happy, singsong voice all sweetness and dripping with honey.  I looked up at her from my helplessness and saw her pretty face smiling widely down on me, taking me in.  She was wearing blue jeans and a white polo shirt that was fully unbuttoned and accentuated her breasts and cleavage nicely.  She was wearing those big hoop earrings again, and I noticed a matching gold chain about her neck, highlighting the dark, creamy smoothness of her skin above her breasts.  Her hair was loose today, all kinky and clean, swept back by a band of plastic to keep her bangs out of her eyes and framing her face beautiful face that was barely touched by make-up.

 

“Sleep well?” she asked with a cruel grin and I knew that she already knew the answer as she slipped the strap of my laptop’s case from her shoulder and set it all on the table where she had found it the day before.  She then tossed her purse to the floor and stood over me, wrinkling her nose and after a moment waving her hand in front of her face.

 

“Had a little accident I see,” she giggled as she stepped to the window and threw it wide.  She then took my fan and set it atop a space on the dresser that was free for just that purpose.  She turned it on and I sighed at the sudden relief.  “Not to worry.  We’ll get this place aired out, and you cleaned up.”

 

She started going through my drawers and cupboards then, though what she was looking for- if anything- I had no idea.  I watched her as she moved about, stretching to reach higher or squatting down, simply for something to look at after my long previous day of boredom and realized just how fantastic she looked, even dressed so normally.  Maybe it was the captivity, but I felt my dick springing to life beneath me and I had to look away.  I stared at her feet as she stepped about the limited confines of my apartment, lusting after the dirty, well-worn white leather sneakers that she was wearing.  I had to close my eyes.

 

“Wakey-wakey…” I heard the snipping sound of scissors and shivered as I saw her grinning evilly, a big pair of fabric shears snapping in her hand.  She laughed as I squirmed, ignoring my muffled screams as she snipped at the duct tape holding my wrists to my ankles, and then the tape around my ankles as well.  I feared she would cut me, feeling the cool blades, but I moaned at release, and thankfully she let me stretch a bit before she moved on.

 

She poked me with the point of the scissors finally, directing me to roll over and get up.  I was moving slow though, and finally she helped a bit, holding her breath from the foul stench as she supported me from tipping back over on the bed.  She shoved me back; giggling as my head thumped against the wall behind me, and my feet fell limply to the floor.  She was enjoying my helplessness and misery.

 

She waited, watching as blood and feeling rushed back into my legs and feet, stepping on my toes after a bit until I started to squirm and pull away.  Satisfied she ordered me to sit up straight, and as I maneuvered into position she was digging through her bag again.  My eyes grew wide when she finally smiled, dangling a length of nylon rope in front of my face.

 

It was about six feet long and I saw that she had already worked a slipknot into one end creating a loop that she dropped over my head.  She pulled it snug, just enough that I could feel its bite, then stepped back and gave it a little tug-

 

“Up, bitch,” she smirked, jerking on the rope like a leash and eventually pulling until I scrambled to my feet.  I stood before her on shaking legs and she actually steadied me until my strength returned, holding her makeshift leash taut and with her other hand on my arm.  Eventually though, whether bored or satisfied, maybe impatient she released my arm and scooped up her purse.  I watched as she dropped the scissors into her bag, then looped out the straps and dropped the bag about my neck, threading the rope through the straps in after thought.

 

“Carry that for me, sweetie?” Like I had a choice.  I stared at her though, my eyes growing wide as I realized that she was getting ready to lead me outside of my apartment- on a leash!  Mind, I was still gagged by yards of duct tape wrapped about my lower face and mouth, my hands were still bound behind my back and I was naked except for the skimpy gold panties that were stained with jism and worse with urine.  My hair was stringy and matted from humidity and I was filthy from sweat and lying in my waste for the better part of the night.  I started moaning as I realized her plans, as she stepped to the door and undid the locks and finally started pulling and screaming into my gag as her hand fell on the knob.

 

“Nnnn!  Nnnnh!” I screamed, though it was weak and muffled.  I jerked back and felt the cord tighten about my throat.  Christine turned her face dark with anger and her hand flashed before my face.  I saw stars with her quick, sharp slap across my cheek and promptly collapsed to the floor at her feet.

 

“Enough of that shit, bitch!” she shouted, her hand slamming over the top of my head.  “You will do what I say, right now, or so help me I’ll call the cops and we can end this.  No problem.”

 

I looked up at her, saw her staring down, frowning, breasts heaving from the excitement.  My gaze focused on the cell phone in her hand, though and I shook my head, hung it in defeat.  Surely jail would be worse than this.  I heard the music start next door, blaring through the wall.

 

“All right then,” she finally said as she flipped her phone closed and hooked it to her belt loop again.  “Just remember, it could be worse.  A lot- fucking- worse!  Now get up!”

 

I struggled to get back on my feet, which was hard with my hands bound behind me.  I did it though and was happy when she took a moment to loosen the cord that had been biting into my throat so that I could breathe at least a little better.  Her purse hung from my neck, feeling soft on my skin and heavy as well.  I wondered what other surprises she had waiting in there.

 

I was surprised when she scooped up the dirty towel that still lay on the floor from where she had tossed it the day before.  I saw that it was stained and filthy, traces of yellow on one end.  She smiled at me, considering something, then finally draped the towel over my head with a giggle.

 

“You’re so worried about going out, now no one will recognize you.”  Somehow I doubted that, but the towel was at least a minor comfort, hiding my shame.  I knew then why people under arrest always tried to hide their faces on television.  I felt the rope jerk again as she opened the door and dragged me from the relative safety of my apartment.

 

“Stay,” she commanded, talking to me like a dog as she shut the door.  I felt her digging in her purse then and before too long heard the jangle of my keys.  She locked just one lock on my door as I stared at the floor, watching as her feet shuffled in and out of my limited tunnel vision.  She stepped off then, with a commanding “heel,” and pulled me along the hall towards the bathroom.

 

She led me into the bathroom, thankfully without meeting any of my neighbors and luckily it was empty.  The bathroom is communal, but there are men and women both on the floor that use the facilities, so there is a common rule to lock the door with the little slip-lock when occupied.

 

I felt the heat and humidity as soon as we entered and I knew right off that someone had taken a steaming shower that morning.  Too, in the summer heat the room always had the smell of a locker room, no matter how clean.  Christine finally pulled the towel from my head and gave me a second to get my bearings before dragging me towards the showers.

 

The room was large, actually, as I had heard that the building itself had been a dorm for some college once upon a time.  As such, the bathroom had four stalls and one big shower area with four heads.  Of course there were two sinks and a big mirror on one tiled wall, so I got a chance to see just how pathetic I looked, leashed, bound and gagged.  Truly, I looked half-dead from the heat and my ordeals.  Little did I know what was to come.

 

“You need the potty?” she asked with a snicker and I shook my head no.  I probably wouldn’t have been able to go anyway with her in the room, but apparently I had pissed myself out the night before.

 

“Good,” she said as she led me to the shower.  She pulled the shears from her purse again and spun me about, suddenly slamming me hard against the slick, stone wall.  “Give me a reason,” she hissed in my ear, snipping the huge scissors.  I shivered at her threat and quickly shook my head, indicating that I would be no problem.  I felt the shears slip between my wrists, cutting my bonds, then sliding under the tape wrapped about my face.

 

“Not a fucking word,” she ordered as she cut away my gag, then deftly plucked the wadded up sock from my mouth.  I breathed in a huge lungfull of air as I tried to rub the circulation back into my red, chaffed wrists.  I wanted to thank her, but thought better of it and remained silent as commanded.

 

I watched silently as she wadded everything into a ball and tossed sock and tape into the trash for three.  She dropped the scissors back into her purse, then looped a bit more cord about her fist as she leaned against the wall and crossed her ankles.

 

“Shower, bitch.  Scrub your ass clean,” she said as she casually dug through her bag, eventually pulling out that same crumpled cigarette pack.  She pulled out her lighter and a butt, which she smoothed then lit, blowing smoke at me.  “Well?”

 

I started to reach for my panties but she stopped me-

 

“Leave ‘em.  They’re filthy too, and need to be cleaned.”  I nodded and turned on the shower.

 

I was lathering up again for the third time when I saw her hand snake into the spray.  She was holding out a 3-pack of pink, lady razors.  I took them, soap stinging my eyes as I looked at her dragging on another cigarette.

 

“Shave, bitch,” she snorted, rolling her dark eyes.  “You’re not too hairy, but there’s a bit too much on your legs and chest.  And don’t forget your balls.”

 

I blinked, swallowing but knew better than to complain.  I had used a ‘Daisy’ once when the Deli was out of Gillette’s.  I knew the blades were different, and that this was going to hurt.  I lathered up even more, then finally started in, Christine trying not to laugh as I winced with every nick.

 

We both gasped as the door opened and a quick breeze shot through the room.  I looked over to see an older man standing in the doorway.  He was fifty and graying, chubby but from sagging muscle more than fat.  He was dressed in a dark terrycloth robe and slippers and holding his toiletry items in a small leather shaving bag.  It was almost comical the way his rugged face went slack, his eyes growing wide as he stared at me naked and shaving my legs in the shower with Christine holding my leash.  I would have laughed if I hadn’t been whimpering and trying uselessly to hide.

 

“What the fuck?” the man gasped, staring, his mouth flapping.  Christine, not missing a beat just chuckled and regained her composure-

 

“He lost a bet,” she said, tossing her cigarette butt to the floor between them and crushing it beneath the toe of her sneaker.  I noticed that the old man licked his lips as he watched the action, and somehow right then and there I knew that I was done.

 

“A bet?” he asked, his voice croaking a bit.

 

“Yeah,” Christine giggled.  “I told him the Mets were done in the third.  He’s a diehard sucker though.  It’s not the first time.”

 

The man licked his lips again as he looked at me, up and down.  I blushed and continued shaving when I saw that his gaze lingered on my swelling- but still tiny- cock.  I could only imagine what he was thinking as Christine continued-

 

“Bet was the loser’s a slave for the weekend.  I wanted a maid, and with a little grooming I think he- she’ll fit the bill, hunh?”

 

I heard the man chuckle and agree, followed by a moment’s silence.

 

“I- uh- I need to use the toilet,” he said sheepishly.

 

“Oh, sure.  Sorry,” my captor said and I watched as she knotted off the end of my rope leash about the handles of the shower faucet.  “Just keep an eye on him, hunh?  Don’t let him slack off.”  And with that Christine gave me a brilliant smile and sashayed from the room leaving the man standing there staring at my naked body.

 

I recognized him of course.  He lived at the far end of the hall in one of the bigger apartments, so I wondered why he was even using the communal.  None of my business though.  I kept shaving and lathering, trying to ignore him.

 

“I know you,” he finally said with a shaky voice.  I glanced at him and saw that his robe was open now revealing a pair of boxer shorts with an obvious tent.  I swallowed as he stepped out of his slippers, his robe dropping to the floor.  “You’re the little bastard couldn’t hold the elevator for me last week when I was checking my mail…”

 

Crap…

 

He lowered his boxers then, kicking all his clothes to the side and dropping his shaving kit on the pile before stepping into the showers. His prick was huge and waving at attention and I backed up automatically, but he reached out and caught my leash, looping it in his fist and pulling it tight, forcing me closer.  I staggered forward as he smirked, looking me up and down.

 

“You do look like a girl with that body an’ hair.”  He stared at my dick now hard at four inches.  He chuckled, shaking his head as he returned his attention to my face.  I couldn’t hold eye contact as he stared me down, making me look at the chipped tiled floor of the shower in humiliation.  He put his big, meaty hands on my shoulders then and easily forced me down to my knees.  I moaned as I hit the cement, and he just slapped my face-

 

“Shut up, faggot!” he cursed, stepping up so that his penis was right in my face.  He grabbed a handful of my long hair and twisted, pulling until I screamed.  My cries were cut short as his dick slammed into my mouth!

 

“Suck it, cunt!” he commanded, jerking my hair and leash alike.  His prick was huge and hot in my mouth, already filling it, and as I gagged, trying to breathe I felt it jerk and grow even larger.  I could feel the thick head sliding deeper into my throat, growing wider and longer as I simply worked my jaw to accommodate.  I had never sucked cock before, and I was terrified, but I was even more scared of what he might do if I refused, or bit down, or vomited on it.  God…

 

And I knew if he complained to Christine that would be it.  She would beat the crap out of me and/or call the police depending on how amused she was.  I was worthless and weak, and I knew I didn’t have the balls to stand up to her, let alone this man that could probably break me in two with little effort.  I had little choice.

 

I gagged a bit as I shifted on my knees.  I worked my jaw as his prick continued to slide in deeper, finally forcing it into position with my tongue and swirling about a bit as I started to suck.  I heard him moan after a short bit and simply pretended that his cock was a pop sickle and started licking and sucking in earnest, working my lips up and down the long, thick shaft.  I scraped my teeth along its length and heard him whimper a bit.  I went further and nibbled, biting lightly and his grip in my hair loosened a bit.  I continued.

 

I felt his beefy hand cup the back of my head and shove me closer as he thrust forward.  His dick slammed the back of my throat, pulsing now as I sucked and licked, running my tongue around his meat as best I could.  I could feel the heat, the pulse of the blood and jism trapped, the latter straining for release as I scraped my chin along his balls, pressing forward-

 

I choked as he exploded in my mouth.  Hot, steaming liquid shot down my throat, thick and slimy as it coated everything it touched.  I was gasping for breath as he pressed my face close, smothering me in his groin almost as he lunged forward over and over with each new pulse.  I was gagging, trying to swallow but his load just kept coming and I wondered how long he had been storing it up.  Was this what a real man held?  Obviously he had a real dick, but never on my best day, not even the first time had I ever had so much jism.  It just kept pumping and pumping, almost faster than I could swallow…

 

Finally he heaved a ragged breath and relaxed, settling back flatfooted in the shower stall as the water rushed over the both of us.  He held me fast and in place as he caught his breath, and I knew somehow that he expected me to lick him clean while he came down from his massive orgasm.  Damn bondage mags.  I did as expected-

 

He shoved me away after awhile and I sprawled on the shower floor.  I must have looked pitiful there at his feet, soaking wet and beaten with a leash about my throat.  I looked up as he unlooped the rope from his fist and tugged on the loop about the shower handle to make sure that it was still secure.  He stepped out of the shower then and gathered his things.  He got dressed without a word, nor did he glance back as he headed for the door, rubbing a towel through his short hair-

 

“All done?” I heard Christine ask as he stepped into the hall.

 

“Yes, thanks,” he said with a low rumble and simply walked off out of my line of sight.

 

“Anytime,” she said as she stepped back into the bathroom, laughing to see me huddled on the shower floor.  She strolled right up, reaching in and turning off the spray.

 

“Have fun?”

 

I glared up at her but she just laughed again at my pathetic display.  She gathered my leash then, dragging me from the stall.  She scooped up my towel and tossed it at me-

 

“Dry off, bitch.  You got a big day ahead and your little fun put you behind schedule.”

 

I gathered up the towel and did as I was told, still kneeling on the filthy bathroom floor…

 

FOUR

 

 

 

I was trying my best not to cry…

 

She ordered me to put my soggy panties back on and then she led me towards the door.  I still held the towel, and half thought that I might drape it around my waist, but she was having none of that-

 

“Trash it,” she said, pointing to the garbage can near the door.  “It’s filthy now.  I’ll give you another one next time.”  And without waiting she tugged on my leash and dragged me into the hallway.

 

I was petrified again, actually shivering as she passed my apartment and pushed the elevator’s call button.  Even after what I had done, what I had just been forced to do I was terrified of being seen.  I was shivering from the chilly shower, but also from fear.  My hair was hanging half into my face, stringy and wet, and I was naked but for her golden panties.  Christine just grinned at me as we heard the elevator rumble to life.

 

“Was that your first?” she asked, and I almost jumped.

 

“What?”

 

“Was that your first time- sucking cock?”  I hung my head, biting my lip.

 

“Yes…” I whispered.

 

“Did you like it?” she asked with seeming sincerity.

 

“I hated it.”

 

“Well, don’t worry.  You’ll get used to it.”  I glared at her and she simple smiled sweetly, cocking her head to one side.  “You do look like a girl, y’know?  I’m surprised.”

 

“I’m not gay!”

 

She snorted.  “You don’t gotta be gay to suck cock, stupid.  You don’t need to like men, but maybe you like dick?”  I was about to say something when the elevator door ground open.  Thank god it was empty.

 

The ride to the basement was quiet and without incident- it did not stop on any other floors.  She looked at me openly though, scrutinizing me up and down and I could see the wheels spinning behind her smoky eyes.  I wondered what she was thinking, and how miserable it would make my life.

 

She dragged me back into the basement, again luckily empty, and up to her apartment door.  I waited passively while she dug her keys from her purse, wondering what was to come.  Looking at the garbage area, and remembering what she had said earlier, I had a pretty good idea.

 

“Roberto won’t be home until eight or nine,” she said as she unlocked her door and shoved it open, leading me behind.  I was hit by a cool blast of air conditioning as she tugged me to the side before shutting and locking the door.  She tossed her purse to a small table, continuing, “so that gives you plenty of time to do some chores around this place for your penance.  Like I said, there’s a lot doesn’t get done cuz ‘Berto and Felix both have second jobs, an’ some stuff gets left for tomorrow, if you know what I mean?”

 

She smiled warmly as she strolled across the living room and into the kitchen.  She had left me standing by the door, my leash dangling and she was out of sight.  I could have run, then and there.  I could have gotten away, but where would I have gone.  I was naked except for my golden panties and she had my keys.  There was no one in the building that I could trust, apparently, after my encounter with the old man.  And if I could not trust my neighbors like this, what chance did I have in the streets.  I sagged a bit, sighed, realizing that I was still trapped.

 

Christine had a nice apartment; big and cool with a definite red motif.  It was a one bedroom I assumed, with a full kitchen and it looked as though she kept it clean.  Somehow I figured that that would be one of my duties from now on.

 

She returned in a moment, sipping a cup of coffee and my stomach rumbled at the wonderful smell.  I had drunk some water in the shower, mainly to get the taste of cum out of my mouth, so I was not thirsty, but I was getting hungry.

 

“You’re gonna be cleaning the garbage area first,” she said, “cuz it’s filthy.  That’ll probably take most of today, but we’ll see.  I made up a long list of chores for you yesterday, but we’ll take ‘em one at a time and get into a rhythm.”  She strolled over to the sofa and reached behind, pulling out a small overnight bag, which she set on the red, velveteen couch.

 

“I got you some things too,” she continued, setting down her mug on the end table as she unzipped the bag and started to pull things out.  “Well, some of this I got from Rosa.  She used to be a cleaning woman when she was younger. But you’re about the same size.  She’s shorter, and heavier, but otherwise…”

 

Christine spun about, holding out a plain gray dress that was obviously cut like a maid’s, or a cleaning woman’s.  She smiled, holding it up with me in the background.  “I think you’ll look marvelous in this.”

 

She set that on the sofa and proceeded to pull out a black sports bra and then a black pair of cloth casuals with straps making them look like ballet shoes.  I paled, shivering as I realized that she was going to dress me up as a woman for my penance, and worse, a maid.  The last thing she pulled from the bag was a starched, white apron, plain and simple with two pockets in the front.  I was happy I suppose that there was no cap.  She crooked a finger as she sat on the sofa, beckoning me-

 

“Come…”

 

Standing before her I was near tears as she ordered then watched as I put on the bra.  It was tight, and I had no bosom at all, but the slick spandex quickly excited my nipples and caused them to perk up and poke out.  She sipped her coffee, nodding in approval and telling me what to adjust as I slipped the gray dress over my head, fluffing my hair from the collar.

 

“I’ll get you a clip for that,” she said as she ordered me to spin, tugging here and there at the hem and waist and finally zipping up the back.  The dress hung just above my knees and hung rather straight with a low-cut squared front that would have shown off my breasts nicely, if I had had any.  Finally she tossed the shoes to the floor and I slipped my feet in, buckling the strap on each.  They were worn and used, I could tell.  In fact my entire wardrobe was borrowed- or stolen.  Still, Christine seemed pleased and fairly gushed as she had me spin in a circle before her.

 

“Awww, you look darling,” she cooed, grinning.  “You’re a pretty girl.  Now, you just need a pretty name.  Carl right?”  I nodded-

 

I had been named after my grandfather by my parents- God rest- though I had never really liked the name.  The obvious feminine version had popped up all too often in school, and it was about to again.

 

“Carla,” Christine said, grinning widely.  “A nice name for a poor working girl.  Let me get that clip so you can get started.”

 

She got up and hurried to her bedroom, returning in seconds with a butterfly clip, which she attached to my hair to hold it back and out of my eyes.  “I was gonna get you some pantyhose, but I figured you’d be on your knees a lot and just ruin them.  You have nice legs though, so you’ll be fine.  Take a look.”

 

She pulled me over a few steps and stood me in front of the long mirror near the front door.  I had to admit that I was a passable woman in the dress and shoes, with my hair pulled back.  Still, seeing myself in the mirror I flushed red, especially when she leaned in and hissed in my ear, “You look hot.”  Hot enough to take a couple quick pictures on her phone.

 

Christine licked at my neck and ear, actually blowing as she cupped my tiny breast and pinched the nipple beneath the cotton and spandex.  I felt her slipping my leash up through the uniform, pulling it free from where it had been trapped beneath, then looping it about her fist as she stepped to the door, leading me out.

 

She led me to the garbage area and directed me in what I had to do.  The area was a mess, she had been right about that.  The garbage cans were all heaping, and more bags now littered the floor about the four big plastic cans set there for the refuse.  Too, there was debris scattered everywhere.  There were books and pots and broken glass bowls stacked in the windowsills.  There was broken and discarded furniture piled up in the area, bags of clothes and shoes, clothes hangers, appliances, anything you might imagine.  The recycle area was no better with stacks of magazines and bags of glass and plastic, cardboard boxes, tin cans, you name it.  It was a heaping mess, left by my neighbors for the Super to sort and deal with- and by me, I knew as I saw one of my old bags in the heaping, smelly piles.

 

It would be my job to sort it all and haul it down the hall and out into the ‘staging area’, the enclosed staircase that led back up to the street on the outside.  At a glance I could tell it would take several trips just to clear the area, but then she said I would have to scrub it all down.  The rest of my day was set, I could easily see.

 

Christine looped my leash about my throat several turns to take up the slack, then tied the end to my wrist.  She said that she had things to do, and that she trusted I would do the right thing.  She also said that she WOULD be checking up on me from time to time, and eventually, so would Rosa.  Then, with a command and a swat on the ass, she told me to get busy, returning to her cool apartment and shutting the door.

 

I sighed, and then and there I thought seriously about running again.  I was dressed now- as a girl, mind- but she had said that I was passable, so I could get away.  But where to go?  I had no money, and no friends to speak of.  The few I considered friends were all shallow and met through my work, and God knows that I couldn’t go to my current employers.  My closest relative was three thousand miles away on the West Coast, my younger sister, and she would be no help I knew.  We did not get along, to put it mildly.  I had nowhere to turn, as I had successfully burned every bridge behind me.  I was screwed.

 

I got to work…

 

It was hard, hot work as the day drug on.  It was another hot and humid day, and I was sweating before too long as I started to bag up the garbage.  That in itself wasn’t so bad, though the smells were horrible, but it was simply a matter of loading everything into bigger bags and dragging everything outside.  Some of the furniture was heavy, but I managed.  The Recycle however was tedious and annoying.  Most everyone simply dumped their cans, bottle and plastics in one bag, so it all had to be crushed down and separated, then bagged separately.  The cardboard had to be broken down and tied, and the slick magazines and newspapers.  Christine had showed me the supplies, and there were plenty, but it was time consuming- like I had anything else to do.

 

It wasn’t too bad at first, but eventually one of my neighbors came down to dump garbage or recycles, followed by another and eventually a staccato flow.  I don’t know if, when they saw me in my uniform, if they thought that I was so far beneath their notice that they could just be arrogant, but most of them simply jogged down the hall and tossed their bags in my general direction, then hurried back to the elevator before it left.  There were men and women alike, Yuppies all, and without a care they added to my work.

 

Christine did not watch me full time, so I did have a bit of peace.  I suppose she trusted me to a point, and of course knew that she had me by the balls with her contract and pictures.  A few times I would see her standing in her doorway quietly supervising my work when I turned around.  Once she opened the door and was talking on her cell phone, and when she saw that I noticed she quickly switched to Spanish.  My first year of Spanish that I had taken in Junior High was basically useless, she spoke so fast, but I still got the feeling that I was the topic of the conversation.  After I had taken most of the garbage away and sprayed with Lysol I noticed that she simply left her front door open a bit.  I could hear the television, her laughter at some show, and when I struggled past with the heavy bags of recycle I could just see her feet propped up on a footstool.

 

I had just tied the last of the garbage bags to haul when I cringed at the sound of the elevator door.  I still flushed with humiliation that my neighbors would see me- recognize me- but for the most part the people just seemed to ignore me.  I heard the sound of flip-flops slapping down the hall and glanced back to see a handsome guy in his twenties probably trotting down the corridor with his garbage in hand.  I turned away, securing the bag that I was tying when he actually spoke-

 

“Hi, you new here?  I haven’t seen you before.”

 

I grunted, nodding.

 

“Where would you like this, sweetie?” He held out his bag of garbage.  I opened the bag that I had been tying and he dropped it in with a wide grin.  I turned away, back to work.

 

“You’re a maid?” he asked after a moment, and I knew that he was watching me, checking me out.

 

“Cleaning woman,” I said in my best falsetto.

 

“I could use a cleaning woman, lemme tell ya,” he laughed.  “I jus’ don’t have the time, y’know?  You work for the building?  Hire out?”

 

“I’m just helping out,” I said as I retied the bag, wishing he would just go away.  “I do what I’m told.”

 

“Ooo, I like that,” he chuckled.  “A maid does just what she’s told.  If you have time, y’know, wanna make a few bucks, or whatever…’

 

I looked up at him and saw him grinning conceitedly.  He was tall and handsome, but-

 

“2K,” he said.  “Just stop on by.”  He reached out and groped my ass and I squealed.  I could not believe it.  He didn’t seem to care as he hurried back to the elevator and disappeared.  I was blazing with anger and embarrassment, and as I turned I saw Christine leaning in her doorway, sipping her coffee.  She grinned and disappeared into her apartment, shutting the door.

 

It was about an hour later when she came out again.  There had been a steady stream of people through the basement, dumping their garbage, and one woman doing laundry but I was ignored for the most part, beneath their notice.  I saw Christine had her purse, and she had changed into a white shell top with red lace trim.  She gave me a look and a nod, then headed down the hall and around the corner to the Super’s apartment.

 

A few minutes later I heard her voice again, but she was speaking Spanish.  I glanced back to see her walking towards me with the Super’s wife/sister, Rosa.  The other woman was shorter than I was, and heavier, but not fat.  She was in her fifties I imagined, and wore rather plain clothes; a long print skirt and shell top in darker colors and black cloth casuals on her feet.  She wore glasses with thin wire rims and her long black hair, lightly streaked with gray was pulled back into a tail.  The two women stepped right up and watched me for a moment before Christine spoke-

 

“I’m going out for awhile- Carla- but Rosa will be here to watch you.  You speak Spanish?” I shook my head.  ‘Well, Rosa knows a little English, just enough to keep you in line.  Do what she says.  Understand?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, bowing my head, nodding.

 

“Okay… Be good, and maybe you’ll get a treat when I get home.”  She laughed and disappeared back around the corner.  I heard the outer doors slam as I looked at Rosa, and she in turn looked at me.  She glared basically, folding her arms beneath her breasts.  I tried to smile, then got back to my work…

 

Maybe it was the novelty of having me slaving for her, or maybe she had taken Christine too literally, but Rosa watched me constantly as I continued my work.  The only break that she took in fact was to bring a folding chair from her apartment, which she settled for optimum viewing and sat, crossing her legs.  She did not speak or smile, her face either flat or frowning and she watched me intently as I sorted through the Recycle and tied up the bags and paper waste.

 

I had been on my knees, tying up a bundle of newsprint when I made the mistake of stopping for a moment to stretch and pop my back.  I yelped outloud as a fiery pain raced along my thigh.  I blinked, almost falling over to see Rosa standing over me with a long, thin switch of bamboo.  It looked like a stick one would shove into the dirt to support a plant, but in her hand it was a weapon as she reared back and laid another welt across my thigh.  I tried to cover, raising my hands as she drew back again when she pointed her finger at the Recycle and snapped her fingers-

 

“Work!” she snapped, motioning at what was left, her switch wavering and ready to strike again.  “Work!  Finish!”

 

I nodded frantically and got back to the job, feeling the welts in my upper leg burning with pain.  She really stayed on my ass after that, sliding her chair closer and swatting or poking my ass if it seemed I was lagging.  Too, she followed me down the hall as I dragged the bags and bundles outside, using her switch on me like a riding crop, tapping me to hurry.

 

I finished over an hour later, finally stacking all the debris in the small, enclosed area outside that led to the stairs up to the street.  I piled the last bundle of newsprint and stepped out of the short, stone corridor looking to Rosa for approval.  She almost smiled, more of a wicked smirk as she nodded and I locked up.  She took hold of my leash and directed me back into the basement proper.

 

We found Christine just coming out of the laundry room and she smiled to see Rosa leading me along.  They spoke a bit in Spanish, and at one point Christine stepped close and lifted my skirt, whistling to see the bright red wealds on my thighs.

 

“Wow, what did you do?” she asked, faking concern.

 

“Nothing,” I said.  “I was stretching because I had been on my knees and she thought I was loaf- Ahh!”

 

Christine had slapped me without warning, causing me to stagger back.  I raised my hand to my cheek and she hit me again, this time falling hard to the floor.  My head was spinning as I rubbed my cheek, looking up at the two of them.  Christine looked pissed, but Rosa was finally smiling.

 

“You did wrong, bitch!” she snapped, waggling a finger at me.  “If Rosa hit you, you did wrong!  No excuses!”  She held out her hand and I saw Rosa hand her the switch.  Christine reared back without ceremony, bringing the bamboo stick over my ass like a fencer handling a foil.

 

I squealed, lurching forward as she whipped the switch about and brought it down backhand, crossing her first stripe, then continuing her arch to lash across my ass again from the other side.  I never knew something could hurt so badly, and I was quickly gasping for breath, my eyes welling with tears.  I tried to scramble away but Christine held me fast with the leash, which was not threatening to strangle me as I pulled.  She striped me twice more before she handed the switch back to her companion.

 

“NEVER!  Never make excuses!  If we punish you- YOU-ARE-WRONG!  End of story.  I don’t want to hear your whining,” she snarled and twisted the lead about her fist, drawing it even tighter.  “Understand?”

 

I whimpered, nodding furiously as I tried to gather breath.  She kicked me.

 

“Apologize!”

 

I gagged but scrabbled about, bowing down and gasping how sorry I was as I inched towards her feet.  I leaned in, kissing the toecap of her filthy sneaker and she rammed the toe up into my face-

 

“Not to me, stupid!  You said Rosa was wrong, so apologize to her!”

 

I nodded- “sorry…sorry…” and shifted, crawling to the spot before Rosa’s feet.  I could hear them speaking in Spanish again.  Rosa was shocked I gathered, and Christine was calling me stupid.  Rosa gasped as I leaned in and kissed the tops of her shoes, her ankles and feet, all the while gasping out apologies.

 

Finally satisfied, Rosa pulled back and Christine wasted no time as she led me into the laundry room.  She ordered me to ‘crawl’ when I started to get up, so I hurried on all fours like a dog at her heels.  In the laundry room I saw that she had set out a large bucket on wheels, filled with soapy, hot water and ammonia-

 

“I want you to scrub down the garbage area.  It’s filthy.  And since you don’t make mistakes you can do it on your knees with a brush.  And it better be clean when I come to inspect it, or you’ll get worse than a switching.”  And with that she simply turned and left.  I heard her speaking to Rosa in Spanish again, but when I dragged the bucket into the other room both of them were gone.  I sighed and got to work…

 

FIVE

 

 

 

Bagging up the foul-smelling garbage had been nothing…

 

Christine had made it clear that I should scrub the stone floor on my knees with some elbow grease, and before too long- less than an hour I was miserable.  The cement floor was chipped and uneven and ground into my knees as I crawled around.  My shoulders soon started to ache from the effort of rubbing the stiff bristled brush back and forth, up and down.  The smell of ammonia was making my head spin, and too it was hot and sweaty work.  My hair was tied back but I could feel that it was ratty and damp and frizzing from the humidity.  My uniform was getting sweat-stained, and on my hands and knees I knew that everyone who came to the basement could see my golden panties.  I didn’t dare to stop if someone came down however.  For fear that they might recognize me as one of their neighbors, and for fear that Rosa would appear with the switch.

 

I knew also that since I had been at my chores for hours already that it was easing towards late afternoon.  All too soon a stream of people would start in again heading downstairs to do laundry and dump garbage, those that had just come home from work.  Sure enough, before too long I heard the elevator door slam shut.

 

I was burning with humiliation as my neighbors strolled downstairs, uncaring and ignorant that I was one of them just a day or so before.  They came up to the garbage area, and most of them dropped their refuse into the cans, but a few simply tossed their bags in the general direction, and no one separated their Recycles.  One man actually just called to me from the elevator upon seeing me-

 

“Hey, sweetie!  Dump this for me, would you?  I gotta go.” And he dropped his bag outside of the elevator and slipped away upstairs.  I sighed in disgust at my fellow man, wondering if I had ever been that bad.  I knew that I had never separated my Recycles, and knew too that when this was over I always would from then on, but had I been THAT rude?  I went and got the bag.

 

And there was a steady stream of people…

 

A man in an Armani business suit came down and dropped a bag into the garbage and a wine bottle into Recycle.

 

A woman in shorts and flip-flops ran down the hall and dropped a bag of Chinese Take-out, then hurried back to the elevator.

 

A younger man struggled into the laundry room with two big mesh bags and a jug of detergent.

 

No one said hello, or excuse me.  I was beneath them all.  I was just a servant, one of the faceless immigrants that kept the city clean, and actually, I was glad.

 

I hid of course.  It was a choice between my neighbors seeing my face, or my panties as I scrubbed on my hands and knees.  I chose my ass.  But of course, there had to be one.

 

I had moved the garbage cans aside and was scrubbing at the well-soaked stain that had grown in that spot when I heard the elevator door slam again.  I shifted about, giving my visitor a nice view of my panty-clad ass and continued to work as I heard the sound of high-heels clacking down the corridor, echoing in the stone.  I kept scrubbing.

 

I heard a lid lifted from a can, followed by garbage being dumped and a shuffle of feet with the action, but oddly I did not hear the heels recede.  I kept scrubbing- all the harder actually.  I was sweating all the harder.

 

I glanced to my left as I eased out of the corner and saw a sexy pair of black, kid leather pumps situated in my way.  I licked my lips, following the shapely legs clad in dark gray nylon, past the knee-length gray tweed skirt and black silk blouse, ignoring the heaving breasts to see the beautiful face framed with a shoulder length mane of blonde hair.  Her blue eyes were wide, her pink-tinted mouth slack and agape as she stared down at me in disbelief, incredulous as to what she was seeing.  I sagged, sighing in humiliation, crimson.  It was my neighbor.

 

“I don’t believe it,” she gasped, mouth flapping.  “It IS you.  I saw that hair and thought… God…”

 

I felt a wave of heat wash over me.  Embarrassment as I turned back to my work, hoping that she would leave.  She didn’t, stepping closer.  Even over the ammonia I could smell the rich leather of her shoes and her feet.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?  What is this?” I kept scrubbing, hoping that she would just go away, but she kneed me in the ass, slamming me forward into the wall.  She laughed-

 

“You’re dressed like a girl!” she shouted, stepping up on me as I tried to get back to my knees.  I felt her foot on me, shoving me down and holding me in place.  “What is this?” she asked again, her voice getting higher, louder.

 

“He’s being punished.”

 

We both looked to see Christine standing in the hall, her arms folded under her breasts as she watched, a smile curling her lips.  She was still in jeans and her shell top, but she was wearing flip-flops now and her hair was totally loose, spilling about her shoulders.

 

“Punished?” I heard my neighbor say as she stepped off of me and back.  Christine nodded-

 

“I caught him stealing panties from the dryer.  Rather than get arrested he agreed to do what I say for an equal amount of time.”  My neighbor snorted-

 

“Stealing panties.  I should have known.” She stared down at me, half-frowning, trying not to smile.  “I always thought he was a little sissy wimp.  Faggot!” She rammed the toe of her shoe into my ribs.  Again-

 

“Stop it,” Christine said, stepping forward and pulling my neighbor away.  “He’s doing his work.  Doing good.  No reason to hurt him,” she said, stepping between me and my enemy.  “Who are you?”

 

“Shannon,” my neighbor said, catching her breath and smoothing her skirts as she stared at me with hatred- and lust?  “I’m his neighbor- 6L.”

 

Christine smirked.  “Okay… I see…”

 

“Little prick’s always beating on my wall to get me to turn my music down.”  Christine laughed-

 

“You DO make friends don’t you?” She laughed again, looking at me.  I looked up in terror from one woman to the other.  I hoped that Christine would not leave me at the tender mercies of my neighbor, but she was almost as bad in her own way.  I cringed-

 

And Christine took my neighbor by the arm.

 

“Come on.  Let me show you something…”

 

Christine took my neighbor and walked her into her apartment.  After they shut the door I sagged, heaving as I tried to hold back the tears.  In its own way that had been the worst.  My neighbor- Shannon- I at least considered a peer, and she had seen me groveling in the dirt, doing drudgery, and scrubbing the basement floor.  I could only imagine that Christine was showing Shannon my pictures, and that my life was about to get even worse…

 

I was still scrubbing when I looked up, hearing Christine’s door open.  In the thirty odd minutes since they had disappeared I had only been interrupted twice in my cleaning.  Once by an older woman that lived on the first floor.  She stared at me as she dumped her garbage but did not say a word.  The second was a man I recognized, I had seen him before.  He was standing half out of the elevator again, dressed in a suit this time and talking on his cell phone-

 

“Hey, sweetie,” he had called, apparently seeing me and figuring again that I was with the building’s staff.  “Get this would’ja?  I’m in a rush.”  He simply dropped his bag of garbage outside the elevator again and disappeared back into the car.

 

I sighed, but got off my knees and went down the hall for the garbage.  I wondered if I had been so rude to the super and his family, and the other workers that I had seen in the building.  I guess so, judging by how my neighbors seemed to hate me.

 

I saw Christine standing in the doorway of her apartment as Shannon stepped into the hallway, both still chatting happily like old friends.  I met Shannon’s gaze just for a second and saw her cruel, knowing smile and quickly looked away.  God, I was in for it now.

 

“I’ll start this weekend,” Shannon said, “but I’ll take a look tonight.  Shouldn’t be much.  I’ll call later.”

 

“That’d be great,” Christine said with a smile and I could feel both women staring at me then.  “Oh, Carla…”

 

I looked up and saw Christine crooking her finger at me.  Shannon was grinning from ear to ear, enjoying every second of my degradation.  “Come here…”

 

I started to get up, but Christine’s harsh voice stopped me short.  “Crawl, stupid!”

 

I crawled up before the two and just knelt there at their feet, waiting.

 

“Shannon says you’ve been a nasty, rude bitch to her.  I think you should apologize.  Don’t you agree?”

 

I was fuming being made low before this bitch, but I knew there was nothing that I could do.  Christine had made it clear what would happen if I dared contradict her edicts again.  I humbly nodded, “Yes, Ma’am.”

 

I shifted slightly on my knees the better to face my new tormentress and lowered my head towards her feet.  She must have been wearing those expensive pumps all day long as I started to smell the rich odors of the worn leather mixed with the smell of foot sweat, perfume and powder.  It was odd, and a bit heady but not all together unpleasant.  Shannon simply stood there with one foot extended in front of the other-

 

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” I sighed as I bent low and touched my lips to the soft leather of her shoe.  It was warm, and I kissed again and again, repeating my apologies.

 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” over and over until she shifted her feet and let me repeat the degrading process on her other shoe.  I kept going, waiting for one of them to tell me to stop, eventually starting to lick the rich kid leather.  I could feel my erection starting to grow with my humiliation.  I could hear Shannon’s barely stifled giggles and see Christine’s own beautiful feet out of the corner of my eye.  She had exchanged her tennis shoes for a dirty pair of black, rubber flip-flops earlier, and I could see her toes twitching as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.  Too, she wore a silver toe ring on the ‘index’ toe of her right foot and seeing that sparkle was driving me insane with lust.  I licked all the harder-

 

“That’s enough,” Christine said and Shannon pulled her sexy foot back out of reach.  I was sweating and panting, licking my lips as my eyes followed their every movement, at least from the ankles down.

 

“He does have a hot tongue,” Shannon joked.  “I’ll give the little bastard that much.”  She turned and headed to the elevator, pushing the call button.  “I’ll call later,” she repeated, staring at me as the car rattled to a stop and the inner doors rumbled open.

 

“On the cell,” Christine reminded her new friend.

 

“Definitely,” she said with a wave and disappeared into the elevator.  Christine turned to look at me, still kneeling at her feet, then cast her gaze about the garbage area.

 

“Not too bad,” she said, looking about and stepping into the area proper.  She simply patted her thigh as she walked and I followed along unknowingly, like a trained pet- already!

 

“I’ll drop a Lysol bomb tonight.  That’ll get rid of the smell that’s still lingering,” she said, her nose wrinkling cutely as she sniffed.  “But you did good.  Keep it up and you’ll be a free ‘man’ in no time.”  She giggled at some joke that I missed as she checked the time on her cell phone.

 

“You still have an hour or so before ‘Berto or Felix gets home.  Time enough to wash the windows.”  She smirked, snapped her fingers and pointed at the two windows set in the back wall.

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said as she walked back into her apartment and shut the door.

 

I got back to work.

 

I ignored the steady stream of people that came downstairs over the next hour.  I concentrated on washing the windows, and they pretty much continued to snub me as they dropped off their garbage and Recycles or went into the laundry room.  I did see my Asian neighbor from across the hall at one point.

 

I was sitting on the windowsill with the pane down on my legs and doing the outside as best I could when I saw her step off the elevator with her laundry.  I eased to one side, so I don’t think that she saw my face- at least I hope that she didn’t.  I made certain though that I waited until she got back onto the elevator before I came back inside.

 

Christine came out to check my work eventually, and to tell me that I was done for the day.  In all I had slaved for her for almost eight hours and I was feeling it.  I was stiff and sore and sweating still.  My uniform was stained and filthy, and my hair was a frizzy mess from the humidity.  And after not sleeping the night before, except in little bursts of dozing, I was ready to rest.

 

To my surprise, Christine led me into her apartment-

 

“Get cleaned up a bit,” she said, pointing to the bathroom.  “Use the brown towel and washrag on the rod.”

 

I went into the bathroom and washed off as best I could.  She did not say that I could get undressed, and I couldn’t get the zipper down on my uniform anyway.  Still, I did the best I could, then used the toilet and returned to the living room.

 

She was sitting in an easy chair with her bare feet propped up on a hassock, fiddling with some compact electronic device.  She had an instruction sheet spread on her lap, and as I approached I saw a spark of electricity between two metallic studs and heard a sharp buzz.  Christine jumped a bit and giggled.  She was grinning as she looked up and saw me.

 

“There’s food set out in the kitchen.  Eat, then I gotta put you to bed.  An’ eat quick.  ‘Berto will be home soon.”

 

I went into the kitchen expecting a sandwich or something sitting on the table.  I saw instead two bowls on the floor; one with water and the other with what looked to be instant oatmeal.  I was about to refuse, disgusted, but my stomach growled and I dropped down to my knees without further hesitation.  I was starving and did not care.

 

I was licking the oatmeal bowl when she called me back and I happily- well, contentedly- crawled back into the living room like a good doggie.  She laughed, but told me to get up, so I did.  I saw the thing that she had been toying with clipped to waistband of her jeans and finally recognized it for what it was.  It was a stun gun.

 

“C’mon,” she said as she slipped her feet back into her flip-flops, gathered my leash and led me to the door.

 

I stepped outside and turned towards the elevator while she locked the deadbolt in her door, but then felt the leash tighten about my throat.  I turned and looked at her in confusion as she was leading me into the laundry room.

 

“Uh-uh,” she said, tugging me into the laundry room.  I noticed that there was still laundry churning in one of the washers as she stepped up to the old battered door that I assumed led to a store room.  I had been right to a point I realized as she opened it.

 

The room was tiny, barely three feet on a side.  The walls were stone like the rest of the basement, but a couple shelves had been affixed within at about eye level and lined with a few cleaning supplies.  I could see the room was about eight feet high, and there were pipes running through the stone at the upper reaches, coated in cobwebs and spider webs.  There was a bare bulb blazing from a cord from the ceiling, and the floor oddly held a folded mattress that smelled of urine I quickly realized.  I knew where that had come from.  I looked back at Christine pitiably, knowing what was to come, but she just smiled and ripped a long strand of duct tape from the roll that had appeared in her hands.

 

She tied me basically as she had the night before.  My hands were criss-crossed behind my back, ankles together and swathed in silver tape.  She did not hog-tie me but she added several strands just above the knees to help keep me immobile.  This time she gagged me with my own golden panties, stuffing them deeply into my mouth with her finger before wrapping the tape around my head several times- again, under my hair.  When she was satisfied she gave me a shove, laughing as I toppled backwards into the tiny closet atop my smelly mattress.

 

She stepped in with me then, kicking lightly at my legs until I folded them up and tied my leash to a thick, metal stud that was sticking out of the wall.  “I hope you like your new room,” she grinned, knotting off my leash and then stepping back out.  I stared up at her imploringly, knowing that I would be curled into a ball all night and aching.  There was no room to even stretch out, and the smell of my old mattress was awful.

 

“it was a mop closet,” she said.  “I moved your mattress down earlier and cleared out the junk.”  She looked around the tiny room, nodding in approval.  “Makes a nice little cell.  Better than your room.  Get used to it.”

 

“Hi!”

 

I lurched to hear another feminine voice just out of my line of sight.  I cringed, panicking as Christine turned and shut the door of my cell.

 

“Oh, hi,” she said.  “Kelly right?  On six?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

God!  It was my neighbor, the Asian student.  Had she seen me?

 

Apparently not as she and Christine made small talk.  In the excitement neither of us had noticed that the washer had stopped.  I listened intently to what was being said, praying that Christine would not include this girl in her plans.

 

I heard the clasp on the outside of the door scrape into place, followed by the sound of a heavy padlock snapping closed.  She just kept talking, both of them laughing chummily…

 

After a bit I heard my neighbor- Kelly- saying goodbye, Christine doing likewise.  I heard a receding padding of feet and the eventual rumble and rattle of the elevator-

 

KNOCK-KNOCK!

 

I jumped, moaning into my gag as the tape pulled at my skin with the sudden movement.

 

“Nightie-night, bitch,”  Christine hissed near the door, and then I heard the sound of her flip-flops receding on the concrete.  The slam and bolting of her door.

 

I was alone again, for the night.

 

I settled back against the wall, trying to get as comfortable as I could.  It was hard, though a little better than the hog-tie.  Just a little.  I stared up into the rafters and saw a hairy, black spider scrabbling along one of the pipes.

 

I watched, fascinated as it spun its webs, leaping from one side of the room to another.  My eyes were wide and my heart was pounding wildly.  I hate spiders.

 

And Christine had left the damn light on again…

 

SIX

 

 

 

Despite my lack of sleep the night before, the Land of Nod was still a long time coming…

 

I slumped against the warm, stone wall, trying to get as comfortable as I could in the enclosed space.  It was barely a box, three feet square, and though I was small I still had to curl up my legs and twist at an odd angle to ease the pain in my tired, trapped legs.

 

It was hot as well, stifling.  The heat and humidity of the last several days had built up in the little closet and simply hung there.  The walls were slick with sweat, and there was no breeze, no windows or vents of any kind.  It was filthy too, dusty from disuse and the air was stagnant.  I quickly started to smell my urine soaked mattress.

 

And it was early.  Just after seven, and the laundry room was still active.  No sooner had my neighbor come down to empty her dryer than someone else came down with their wash.  And another after that.  Soon all the machines were rattling and churning, and I even heard someone else pad into the room and curse that the machines were all full.  I heard the creak of wood and the scrape of the bench on the stone floor as they sat down to wait, less than a foot away from me on the other side of the wall.

 

At some point the activity slowed and finally stopped.  I had no way of knowing just what time it was other than by the running washers and dryers for thirty minutes, so I judged it had to be at least ten at night.  I had counted five people doing laundry since my neighbor- five chances to call for help, but I had let each one go past.  Why?

 

Was I so afraid of the humiliation of being found?  Was I afraid of another encounter like I had had with the man in the shower?  Did I really think that I would be sent away to jail for months if the truth came out?  Could jail really be worse than this?  At least in jail I wouldn’t be bound and gagged.  I would be sleeping in a bed and getting two or three meals a day with a thousand of my closest friends.  Too, in jail, I would know when I would finally be free, something that Christine had never actually said.

 

I figured she was enjoying this.  She definitely had a dominant streak in her, and she liked having someone to do her little chores and order about.  Too, I think the bondage turned her on a bit.  I expected this to last for a week at least, and was not dismissing that it could be a month as she had initially hinted.  But what if she turned it longer?  She had taken more pictures, not of me doing a crime, but they were humiliating.  I had no doubt that she had invaded my laptop and gotten hold of all my addresses.  She could easily think to blackmail me into a longer or even permanent term as her maid.  Laying there in my ‘cell’, bound and gagged I shuddered at the thought.

 

So why was I not trying to escape?

 

Because I was excited by her attention.  I was in an almost constant state of arousal, despite the heat and misery and dirt, despite the hard work.  Her lording over me and controlling my life was making me hot and I was almost craving it.  I was depressed in the closet, but not from the hell of my predicament I realized, but because Christine was not there dictating to me.  Why?

 

Was I so sick that the little fetish I had developed from a few bondage magazines had blown into a serious desire?  I didn’t feel the same from the attentions and tender mercies of Rosa or my neighbor Shannon- at least not yet.  Hell, those two women scared me a little.  But despite her punishments, Christine did not.  Why?

 

Was I in love?  Or maybe it was just infatuation, simple lust.

 

My mind was spinning at that point.  I wanted my freedom, but I wanted more of my predicament too.  God, I wanted to be Christine’s slave, and that scared me the most…

 

***

 

I was on my knees in the crowded room.  The noise was deafening with unbridled, high-pitched laughter and conversation.  It was hot, and I was sweating like a pig and filthy from the grime on the floor as I crawled amidst the legs and feet of all the women that I had ever met in the course of my life.  It was my job and duty to clean their shoes.

 

I was naked as I scrambled in the forest of legs, my head bobbing as I stopped before another pair of sexily clad feet and started to lick.  The women paid no attention, simply nudging me away when I was finished, forcing me to the next.  I crawled on.

 

I could feel the pain in my knees from the hours of my duty, and my eyes stung as my sweaty hair hung down and slapped my face from my movements and efforts.  The women just laughed and talked, shifting their feet, ignoring my cries as they stepped on my hands or kicked me in the face.

 

“He makes a good dog,” I heard my sister say as I licked at her dirty, black Reeboks.

 

“He’s getting fat.  Fat and lazy,” my mother said as she kicked me in the ass.

 

“I think he’s cute,” my first girlfriend said- I think her name was Lisa- as she lifted her foot so that I could get to the shit-stained sole of her clog.

 

“He’s a bitch!” Shannon said as she planted her heel in the back of my head, pressing my face to the floor.

 

The pitch of laughter grew louder and the room started to spin away as she increased the pressure, rolling my head to the side and grinding the sole of her pump against my cheek.

 

“Lick!” she commanded, and the word became a chant, growing in volume…

 

“Lick!  Lick!  Lick!”

 

They were all shouting, crowding around, trampling me.  My fifth grade teacher stepped on my balls, crushing them.  My aunt rammed the pointy toe of her ankle boots up my ass.  I was screaming…

 

Licking…

 

***

 

I woke screaming into my gag, gasping for breath.  The bare bulb still burned overhead as I thrashed about, feeling my dick pulsing weakly, a warmth spreading out beneath me and soaking the mattress even more- not to mention my uniform.  I moaned, slamming my head against the wall as I pissed, and worse.  I had experienced a wet dream.

 

Soon spent I sagged against the wall, slumping into the soiled mattress.  There was nothing to do, no where to go.  I started to cry again.  I was pathetic.

 

This was what I wanted?

 

I woke again to the sound of the washers roaring to life.  Blinking, I could see light filtering beneath the door of my ‘cell’ and shadows flitting beyond with someone’s movement.  Male voices, laughing and talking, and a television in the background.  I knew that there was an old battered portable sitting in one of the windowsills in the laundry room but I had never tried it to see if it actually worked.  I guess it did as I heard the announcer say that it was eight-fifteen in the morning, the start of another workday.

 

The two men stayed throughout their wash, and more than once I had raised my bound legs with every intent and purpose to kick on the door of the closet to get their attention.  Every time too I lost my courage and huddled back in my filth, teary eyed and afraid.  What would they do?  Would they actually help me?

 

Visions of the old man danced in my head.  How many of my neighbors had I offended or alienated.  Would any of them help me, or just see the opportunity to use me and get a bit of revenge or have a little fun?

 

God, paranoia had set in.

 

Someone else entered the laundry room and chatted with the two men and I finally realized that they were the gay couple that lived on the first floor.  I didn’t recognize the woman’s voice, but I decided to remain quiet and stay where I was.

 

I shifted in my mess, trying to find comfort.  I hung my head, hoping that Christine would come and free me soon.  Even the drudgery of her chores was better than being locked away in the stifling closet, bound and gagged, bored and helpless.

 

There was a time of silence after the two men finally finished their wash and left.  I listened intently and heard the elevator a few times followed by the clack of heels or the sound of flip-flops in the outer corridor.  People dumping garbage, making more work for me.

 

Someone came into the laundry room and started their wash…

 

I heard a door slam, echoing in the distance…

 

“Oh, good morning.”  It was Christine, at last.

 

“Oh, hi.”

 

“Just starting?”

 

“Yeah.  Gotta get the laundry.  I hate doing laundry.”

 

“Hah!  Me too.  Listen, after you get your loads in I have to check the circuit breakers so I’m gonna have the door shut for a bit.  I should be done before you come back down, but if the door’s shut, just knock.”

 

“Oh, okay.  I’m sorry.  I’ll be out in a sec.”

 

“No rush.  Take your time.”

 

The woman, whoever she was hurried though, and in a few minutes she said her good byes.  I heard Christine leave likewise, curious as to what she was up to now.

 

I stared at the thin slit between the bottom of the door and the floor, watching as Christine’s shadow came and went a couple times.  I assumed she was making trips back and forth into her apartment, but I might as well have been blindfolded for understanding what she was doing.  I figured that I’d learn soon enough and resigned to wait, listening to the sound of her flip-flops as she shuffled across the stone floor.

 

Finally I saw the shadows grow darker and closer as she stepped up to the door.  I heard the sound of a key in the padlock sealing me in, followed by the hasp scraping open and the whine of rusty hinges.  Christine stood towering in the doorway.

 

I swallowed dryly as I stared up her forever-long legs, my gaze following her magnificent body, her shapely hips clad in black shorts and her amazing breasts barely held in check by her black sports bra.  She was smiling almost warmly, but I could tell that she was finding it hard not to burst out laughing at the sight of me.  I had to look a mess and pathetic, bound and gagged and soaked with my own piss.  I could not hold her gaze from shame and stared instead at her pretty feet and black rubber thongs.  Her nails were sparkling that same metallic pink.

 

“Good morning, Carla,” she said in a merry tone and I nodded in return, grunting into my gag as I cringed at the girlish twisting of my name.  “I see we had another accident.”  I blushed, my skin burning with humiliation.

 

She threw the door wide and leaned into my cell, holding her breath of course against my stench.  She was smirking with her lips pressed tight and wide as she produced the now familiar shears and neatly snipped through the tape that bound my ankles, and then my knees.  She gathered my lead from the metal stud and leaned out again, taking a breath as she stepped back and gave a sharp tug-

 

“Out, bitch!”

 

I strained to rise, struggling and shouldering my way up the wall until I stood on shaking, aching legs.  I was weak and wobbly but managed to stagger forth as she continued to tug me slowly along.  I quickly looked about the laundry room to see if we were alone- fearing Rosa or even Shannon ready to ambush me.  I sighed, happy that we were the only two in the room.

 

The room itself looked the same with four old washers and three dryers that were even more ancient.  The washers were rocking and rumbling in their spin cycle, so I knew that the owner of the wash within would be back soon.  The room itself was not quite as filthy as the garbage area had been, but it was close.  It was painted in the same dull red and white as the rest of the stone in the basement, and that was chipped and faded where it could be seen.  Two of the walls were lined with Con Ed meters, the one to my own apartment coincidentally right in front of me, though up a bit.  There was a large metal sink next to the washers used for rinsing and scrubbing clothes, and no doubt where Christine had provided my hot, soapy bucket of water from the day before.  The garbage can was almost filled now with detergent boxes and bottles, static sheets (those that were not littering the chipped and uneven floor), and anything else I’m sure.

 

I noticed right off that there were three heaping laundry baskets set in front of the washers, along with detergent and fabric softener and a box of Bounce fabric sheets.  Too, hanging from one of the overhead pipes I saw a cotton-polyester dress of pale blue that looked remarkably similar to my own soiled uniform.  I looked to Christine and she grinned-

 

“I figured you’d need a change of clothes.  It’s hot, and I knew you’d be sweating and grimy from your chores.  I hadn’t expected you to piss yourself though.”  She shrugged and held up the scissors again.  I breathed a sigh of relief and she graciously let me massage my wrists as she carefully snipped away at my tape gag.  I winced as she ripped the swath of tape from around my head with a happy chuckle.  Finally she tapped my cheek and I opened my mouth.  She plucked my spit stained panties free with a sneer of distaste and turned slightly, tossing them into the big sink.  As she turned fully and headed for the nearest bench to sit down I saw that she had both her cell phone and her stun gun clipped to the waistband of her shorts.

 

“Get washed up,” she said, smiling, assuming that I was checking out her ass I imagined, “and rinse out your panties too.  I’m not giving you another pair, so you better make those last.”  She chuckled again, then added, “But maybe you’ll get lucky and find another pair to steal today while you’re working in here.”

 

She explained my chores for the day as I started to undress in front of her.  She had already seen me naked, and worse, but it was still embarrassing to be stripping in front of the beautiful young woman while she sat there fully clothed and swinging her crossed leg.  I could feel my dick getting hard as I went to the sink, listening to the sound of her rubber sandal slapping the sole of her foot.

 

“Rinse out your hair too.  You’re a frizzy mess, girl,” she chided with amusement.  “You can wash your uniform with my towels and sheets later when you do my laundry.  And while you’re waiting you can scrub down the laundry room to keep busy.”

 

I had splashed water all over my body and was standing barefoot in a puddle now, having had the good sense to take off my cloth ballet slippers.  Finally I stuck my head under the faucet and ran cool water through my hair.  That was a pleasure in itself, but I wished that I had some shampoo and conditioner, knowing that as soon as it started getting hot again my long hair would frizz once more.  I was wringing out my hair as best I could when I heard Christine snapping the shears-

 

“I should just hack that off for you,” she said with a wide grin.  “That’d spoil the whole maid thing though, and you might actually look like a boy with short hair.  Much as I would love to have you slaving away naked too, there’s too many prudes in the building that wouldn’t understand.  One of the old ladies might call the cops then, and they’d definitely haul you off to jail, pervert.”

 

I tried to ignore her as I wrung my long hair as best as I could when she finally told me to use one of the towels from her laundry.  I did, and quickly noticed that it smelled some, but not of her.  Roberto!

 

“Do you wet yourself every night?”

 

I gasped, peering at her from beneath the towel.  She was staring intently, the toes of her foot of her crossed leg pressing the floor as she leaned forward.  Her auburn hair spilled in tight curls about her smooth shoulders, framing her face as she frowned.

 

“N-no…” I stuttered and she gave me a scolding look.  “No, Ma’am!” I quickly corrected and she was grinning again.

 

“So it just started?  Am I too exciting for you or what?”

 

“I- I don’t know.  Ma’am…”

 

“Well, if it happens again we’ll have to do something about it.  Maybe I should just cut it off,” she laughed, snipping the shears again.  “Or maybe I’ll get you some diapers.  Of course you wouldn’t be able to wear your pretty panties, but that’s a small sacrifice.  We’ll think of something.”  She grinned, biting her lower lip and I’m sure she was imagining me in diapers and baby clothes like some of the men in one of my borrowed bondage magazines.  It was another fetish that I never knew existed, and apparently a big thing in the UK.

 

“Get dressed,” she finally commanded breaking the trance.  “Then rinse out your panties and put them on too.  Use hot water so you’ll enjoy the memories of last night a little longer.”

 

I hung my head but did as I was told.  My new uniform fit about the same as the other, if not a little shorter, though the fabric felt cooler against my skin, which was a blessing.  I snugged it into place as best as I was able, and Christine said I should be sure to thank Rosa for the donations the next time that I saw her.  I said I would as I stepped into my shoes and buckled the tiny silver straps into place.  I then moved back to the sink to finish up.

 

I was standing before Christine in my damp panties awaiting her next command when we heard a knock on the door.  I had not even realized that the washers had stopped and knew that the woman was back to change the load.

 

“Hold still,” Christine said as she stepped right up to me.  She grabbed the rope dangling from my neck and balled it up a bit before stuffing it down my cleavage- such as it was.  I saw her eyes light up for a moment, but the woman outside knocked again and whatever she had thought of would have to wait.

 

“Not a word,” she hissed, pinching my cheeks hard before stepping back.  “Remember that you’re a lowly, humble maid and probably an illegal alien to boot.  You don’t talk to your betters unless answering a question, and you do that with respect.”  She gave me a stern look before finally turning to open the door.

 

“Oh, hi,” Christine said, her voice light and happy.  “Sorry I kept you waiting.  Your wash just stopped a minute ago.”

 

“Oh that’s all right,” I heard the other woman say, recognizing the voice from before.  I glanced up as she stepped inside and saw a black woman in her thirties look at me with wide, curious eyes.  She was shorter than I was but pretty and shaped nicely in a denim skirt and red spaghetti strap blouse.  My eyes drifted down her body naturally and I saw that she was wearing a dark pair of those mesh slipper sandals that were all the rage.  “Who’s this?” she asked as she stepped fully into the room and up to me.  I blushed under her gaze but kept silent.

 

“That’s Carla, the new cleaning woman for the building,” Christine said without missing a beat.  “The management sent her over to help out with some of the more mundane drudgery.  Y’know, the shit work.”  Both women laughed, nodding in agreement.  “Say hello, Carla.”

 

I glanced nervously at Christine standing behind the woman, wondering just what sort of greeting she expected.  She mimicked a curtsey with a grin and I blushed again.

 

“Hello, Ma’am,” I said softly, bowing my head and bobbing a bit, holding the sides of my skirt as I imagined was proper.  The woman gushed, smiling widely-

 

“Oh, my.  How respectful.  It’s nice to meet you Carla,” she continued as she stepped to the first washer and opened the lid with a sigh.  “I wish I had a maid to help me out.  I hate doing laundry and it never seems to end, does it?”

 

“Carla can do that for you,” Christine offered, stepping up beside me.

 

The woman turned looking almost embarrassed.  “No, that’s all right.  I couldn’t impose.  Could I?”

 

“Sure you could,” Christine laughed.  “She hasn’t started her own chores yet.  She just got here, and she’ll be doing my wash anyway.  Do you have to sort anything?”

 

“No.  Already did, and I was going to put the last two loads into one dryer.”  The woman eyed me curiously again, then asked, “You’re sure it’s no problem, Carla?”  I felt Christine’s hand on my ass and I swallowed.

 

“No, Ma’am.  No problem at all.  Happy to help.”  The woman gushed again-

 

“Well, thank you.  That’s very sweet.  You don’t mind though, I’ll wait a minute to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”

 

“C’mon,” Christine offered, leading the woman to a bench where they both sat and crossed their legs, relaxing as I started to unload the washers.  They chatted as I moved each load carefully to the dryers, as I knew I’d be in trouble if I dropped anything.  I was scared, but excited as well with both of the women watching me work and talking as though I were not even there.

 

I heard that the woman’s name was Laura, and that she had just recently moved in on the third floor with her daughter, Patricia.  She was divorced apparently, and working downtown in a bank.  She must have held some decent position there to afford the rent in our building.

 

I finished loading the dryers and double-checked each washer to make certain that I had missed nothing.  I then stood there waiting, almost at attention.  I had no money to start the dryers.

 

“All done?” Laura asked as she got up.  I saw she had a debit card in hand to pay for the loads.  Christine rose too, stopping her new friend.

 

“Hold it,” she said, stepping in front of the other as she slipped her own card from her sports bra.  “I have a ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card here.  This one’s on me.  Welcome to the building,” she said as she slid her card into the slots of the three machines to get them going.

 

“Thank you,” Laura said to Christine, then glanced at me, “and thank YOU too, Carla.  I’d better get upstairs again though.  A woman’s work is never done, eh Carla?”  Both women laughed and as Laura said ‘later, Christine assured her that I would have her dry clothes folded and waiting when she returned.  Christine finally turned to me again-

 

“Good girl, bitch.  Now get to work!”  She pointed to her own clothes and handed me her debit card before turning on her heel and heading back to her own apartment.  I heard the door slam and got to work with a heavy sigh.

 

Christine had presorted her clothes thankfully, one load in each of the three plastic baskets.  The last thing that I wanted was to ruin her clothes.  She had a load of whites including her under garments, which I tried hard to ignore, a load of everyday clothes, and one that was all sheets and towels and the like.  As allowed, I added my soiled uniform to that last load, hoping that it had been laundered enough that it would not shrink in the hot water.  I noticed too that in the first two loads were male clothing.  I wondered why I had not assumed that I would be washing Roberto’s clothes as well, including his dirty underwear and socks.  I saw that he preferred boxers.

 

I got the laundry going, then went out to retrieve the bucket and scrub brush I had used the day before.  I dumped the dirty water, which I had left in Christine’s haste to get me bedded down for the night, then scrubbed and refilled the bucket with hot, soapy water using the cleaning supplies that I had seen in my closet.

 

The smell hit me again as I put the supplies back and I wondered.  Christine had said nothing about me cleaning my mattress, but surely she would not mind if I did.  I pulled it out finally, and when the bucket was full knelt down and started to scrub at the stains.  It wasn’t too hard actually, but it was soaked clear through and in several spots as the mattress had been doubled over to fit into my cell.  Once finished I drug it over to the far window and laid it across the sill so that it was hanging half out the window.  It would take awhile to dry in the humidity I knew, but hopefully it would smell a little better, or at least less.

 

I realized that the first dryer had stopped when I heard the second shut off.  I started to move the woman’s clothes to the sorting table and folding her things as the third stopped, and then the first load of Christine’s wash.  I sighed.

 

‘A woman’s work is never done’ indeed…

 

SEVEN

 

 

 

I was on my knees scrubbing the floor of the laundry room when Laura returned…

 

She was late, longer than thirty minutes, for which I was thankful as that gave me time not only to fold all of her clothes but to start Christine’s loads drying.  I was facing the door when I heard the elevator door slam followed by her scuffing footfalls in the hallway.  I looked up as soon as I saw her feet and heard her gasp.

 

She was staring down at me wide-eyed again, her hand over her mouth to hide her astonishment to see me on my hands and knees.  I forced a smile, nodding my head as I recalled what Christine had told me about speaking and continued my work.  I heard Laura draw a long, steady breath as she tried to regain her composure before speaking-

 

“Wow, girl,” she said in awe, “you do everything.”  She giggled and I nodded again, watching her feet as she strolled past me- right through my work- and went to the sorting table.  I didn’t know if she had a basket or not, so I left each load stacked neatly in little piles.

 

“You did a wonderful job, Carla,” she cooed and I thanked her for her praise.  I glanced in her direction, noting her shapely legs and ass before noticing her gingerly placing her wash into one of the room’s baskets.  She glanced at me in return and I quickly looked away, resuming my chore.  Finished, she hefted the load and turned, but I was trying to concentrate on my work again as she stepped up by my head.  I stared at her feet and the deep red of her polish as she wiggled her toes beneath the mesh of her sandals.  God, did she know already too?

 

“I do want to thank you for your help, though I probably should be letting you thank ME for letting you fondle my panties, eh Carla?” she said with a wicked little laugh.  She DID know.  “If that’s really your name.  A little make up would help with your disguise, y'know, though the hair and legs are good, and the dress.

 

“I noticed your erection too, when you were loading the dryers,” she said as she slid her foot under my face.  That was all the urging I needed as I bowed low and started kissing the top of her foot.  She giggled.  “It took me awhile to remember, but that hair finally gave it away.  It was like my second day here and you let the front door slam on me when I was coming home with groceries.  I thought you were a woman then, until I saw you turn around in the elevator as I was unlocking the door and struggling inside with my bags.  I even called for you to hold the elevator.  Maybe you didn’t see me or hear me, but it was damn rude all the same.”  She slid her right foot back and shifted her stance, sliding her left to my lips before she continued, and so did I.

 

“So what is this?” she asked, wiggling her toes against my lips.  “Are you a fag hag or what?  One of those men that get off wearing women’s clothes and serving the ‘superior sex’?  You obviously like kissing feet.  God, your tongue’s on fire.”

 

I paused, almost smiling, apparently good at something as both Christine and Shannon had said similar praise.  “I’m not supposed to say, Ma’am.  I’m not even supposed to talk, except to answer questions-“

 

She flicked her foot up sharply and kicked me in the teeth, causing me to yelp more from surprise than pain.  I licked my lips, but felt no blood-

 

“Well, I just asked you a question, boy.  You better answer or I’ll tell Christine how rude you were.”

 

“I’m sorry,” I said, kissing her foot again in apology as I started relaying my story.  I had not expected the ‘Catch 22’ of my predicament and Christine’s orders, but Laura HAD asked so I had to obey.  I just hoped Christine would see it that way and not punish me.

 

My neighbor moved to the closest bench and sat down, directing me to crawl before her and finish my tale as she crossed her legs.  She smiled down at me and started extending her leg and prodding me with her toes as I knelt there trying not to get flustered.  She giggled to hear my voice crack as she rubbed at my nipples with the toe of her slipper.  Finally I finished my story and she was laughing.  She raised her leg up and slapped the sole of her shoe against the bottom of her foot right before my face.  I got the hint and leaned in, kissing the dusty sole of her shoe.

 

“Lick!” she said, and I started to lick at the filthy bottom of her slipper as she watched me with a satisfied smirk.  “Well,” she finally said, “it sounds like you’re screwed.  Good!” she said as she shoved me back with her wet sole.  I fell back onto the hard stone floor, watching as she stood and hefted her basket again, towering over me.

 

“You need to be considerate of other people and respect your betters, boy.  I hope Christine teaches you good.  And believe me I’ll be talking with her again.  Now get back to your chores,” she commanded as she turned, heading for the door.  “I’ll bring the basket down later, or maybe I’ll send Pat down to get a look at the foot freak.  She ought’a get a kick outta seeing you.”

 

I heard Laura laughing all the way down the hall until the elevator door finally slammed shut and she was gone.  I sighed.  Humiliated again and realized that Christine’s wash had been waiting for awhile now.  I had to hurry.

 

I was just finishing folding her last few articles when Christine padded into the room.  I turned and saw that she was still dressed the same and wearing her wide smile, though she had tied her kinky red hair back into a tail.  She walked right up and I saw her expression change as she stared at my face-

 

“There’s a foot print on your cheek,” she said, grabbing my chin and turning my head for a better look.  “What have you been up to, bitch?  Cheating on me already?” She grinned, obviously feigning her anger.  I told her what had happened with Laura and she started to laugh.

 

“Wow, you are a pathetic bastard aren’t you?  Do you have any friends at all?”

 

It was probably rhetorical, but I shook my head anyway, frowning as I folded the last of her things.  She laughed again.

 

“I wonder why?”  She said as she scooped up her heaping basket after directing me to load it up.  She told me that Rosa would probably be by with laundry later, and that I should do it but otherwise keep cleaning.  There was a lot to do, apparently, and she wanted the outer hallway scrubbed down as well.  I nodded compliance and dropped to my knees to get back to work.  I heard her giggle again-

 

Christine slid her foot forward and I kissed it before she finally left me alone to get back to my chores.

 

The rest of the day passed basically uneventfully, with a couple of exceptions.

 

I continued to scrub the floor and walls.  I wiped down the washers and dryers, emptied the garbage (and the garbage area too again), dusted the ceiling and fixtures, the meters and pipes and ducts, washed the windows and even wiped down the television and tables and benches.

 

As promised, Rosa brought her laundry around and stood hovering as I loaded it into the washers.  She did not say a word, and had left as I started the loads.  I thanked God that I had not done anything wrong as she had her switch with her.

 

It was a couple hours later when Laura’s daughter came down to return the laundry basket.  She was black of course, but I knew that she was Patricia because of the basket.  She simply strolled right in and tossed it to the middle of the floor as I stopped wiping down the dryers to look at it, and her.

 

She looked like her mother in the face, I could see the resemblance, but she was taller and heavier.  Not fat really, but too plump to pull off the hip hugging, faded jeans that she wore along with the pink, short sleeveless shirt.  She had a nice rack, but I tried not to stare as she looked to be in her late teens, though I was not certain if she was legal yet.  I stared at her feet, which were shod in a pair of slick black leather faux soccer shoes complete with rubber cleats.

 

“My mom said there was some guy down here playin’ maid, but I didn’t believe her,” she said with a sneer as I stooped to pick up the basket and set it onto the sorting table.  I didn’t say a word.  “Said I should see for myself, so I figured what the hell.  Guess she was right.  Are you a fag?”

 

“No!” I said with a glare, immediately wishing that I had not let her egg me on.  I glanced at the door, expecting to see Christine, but the doorway was empty luckily.

 

“You look like a fag,” she continued, sneering as I returned to my work, wiping at the dryer.  I was blushing from embarrassment, but I was mad as well.  I didn’t need this shit from some kid.  “With that hair an’ all, and in that dress.  You like that shit, hunh?  Dressing up?”  I nodded, kept working-

 

SLAP!

 

I jerked forward slamming my forehead against the dryer, then spun around-

 

“You answer me, boy!” she snarled.  “You like this shit?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said nodding, trying to hold my temper but trying too to give her answers that I thought she wanted so that she would just go away.  She grinned wickedly, reaching out and looping her fingers about my rope collar.

 

“What’s this?  A leash?”  I nodded.  She slapped me again.

 

“Answer me!”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

“Hah!  I like that.  Jus’ like a dog.”  She pulled the rope from my dress and looped it about her fist.  Backing up she tugged and ordered me to my knees-

 

“C’mon, doggy.  Walk with me.  Heel!”  She giggled, jerking on the leash and making me crawl after her as she hurried around the laundry room in small circuits.  I struggled to keep up, gagging as she was almost jogging, choking and gasping for air as I crawled at her heels.

 

Finally she stopped and stood over me as I panted, trying to catch my breath.  I didn’t dare to look up, but I wondered what she was planning next.  I felt her hand slap off the back of my head-

 

“Momma said you like feet.  Well, clean my shoes, faggot!”

 

She slid her foot beneath my face then pushed my head down until I started to lick.  The leather of her dark shoes was soft and warm, and I could smell the slight aroma of her feet mixed in with the worn, leather smell.  I licked until she pulled away and extended the other foot.  She laughed as I started in again.

 

She finally pulled her foot back and I thought that I was done, but she put the sole of her shoe on the back of my head and pressed my head to the floor.  She giggled-

 

“You don’t expect me to walk on a dirty floor do ya?” she asked.  I was building a rage now as I had been on my knees and scrubbing the floor for hours.  “Lick that floor so I got someplace to stand!”  Patricia applied pressure, pushing my face into the stone floor until I complied and started to clean the floor at her feet with my tongue.  It tasted nasty, but I knew it was fairly clean, so I did.

 

“What a wimp,” she said with a sneer.  I heard her hawk and spit, a blob landing on the cement right in front of me.  “Lick that up, bitch!” she ordered and I did.  It was warm and slimy, and I gagged while she laughed all the louder.  She kicked me upside the head and I saw stars.

 

“This was fun,” she said with a sick chuckle and kicked me again, knocking me to the floor.  “I’ll be back, bitch, but I gotta go for now.  Maybe I’ll bring some friends along next time.”  She kicked me again, hard and I slammed back against the dryer again.  My ear was ringing as I watched her sashay out of the room, cursing her in my head, wishing she were dead.  How could she be so mean?

 

I just lay there for a minute, trying to calm down, waiting for the pain in my ear to subside and the spots to stop dancing through my sight.  Eventually I got back to work…

 

I had been scrubbing in the outer hallway for over an hour when I finally heard Christine’s door open.  I had started near the garbage room, doing the little area right outside her door and moving slowly down towards the Super’s apartment at the far end, some forty feet of dirty, hard stone in all.

 

Throughout of course the steady stream of my neighbors kept up.  Every few minutes, and often seconds, the elevator door would rumble open and some man or woman would come out, most heading to drop garbage, but a few to do laundry and even a couple heading the opposite way to see the Super.  Most everyone gave me a long, curious look, but only a few of the braver ones said anything in passing.  A couple even stopped to ask me questions.  I just kept on scrubbing as I had been ordered to do, answering when asked but otherwise staring at the floor.

 

I recognized the man from the day before, and like before when he saw me he simply dropped his bag outside of the elevator for me to dump.  This time he did not even ask, simply making a ‘kissing’ sound followed by laughter as the door rumbled shut again.

 

There was an older woman I had seen on occasion that came down with her huge German Shepherd.  She gasped to see me and actually stopped en route to the garbage while her dog came sniffing about my upraised ass, happily wagging his tail.  I swallowed hard as the woman stepped about me, looking me over.  I could almost hear her smirking.

 

“I recognize you,” she said and I simply scrubbed all the harder as I stared at her toes wiggling in her leather strap sandals.  She must have noticed as she slid her foot closer, or maybe she was just adjusting her stance.  She was heavy set, overweight actually, and dressed in shorts and a tight tee shirt.  I did not look up but I remembered that the last time I saw her, just a few days earlier one morning that she had gray hair clipped in a page boy cut and glasses.

 

“You live on six.  I see you when I’m out walking Bluto,” she continued, and upon hearing his name her dog seemed to get all the more excited.  I could only imagine that the Shepherd was smelling my own excited sex, as my cock was springing to life again as I felt the dog’s attention while I stared at the woman’s feet.  “What are you doing?” she asked, her foot stepping right in the path of my scrubbing, forcing me to stop.

 

“I’m cleaning, Ma’am,” I answered truthfully and she sniggered.

 

“I can see that.  Why?  You behind on your rent or something?”

 

“No, Ma’am.  I’m just helping out.”

 

“Uh-huh.  Just helping out,” she said dubiously, “dressed up like a maid and scrubbing on your hands and knees.  I wish people would help me out like that.”

 

“Nnnn…” I moaned, my response lost as I felt the dog’s cold, wet nose easing around my ass hole.  He was snuffling harder, shoving forward and starting to lick.

 

“Hah!” she laughed, walking away suddenly and draping her dog’s leash over my back.  “Bluto likes you,” she said with a giggle and I looked up to see her cruel grin as she dropped her garbage in one of the cans.  I grunted, easing forward as the dog started licking harder and I realized that he was getting me wet in order to mount me.  My eyes grew wide at the realization, and I heard the woman laugh again.  She strolled casually back and picked up the lead once again, pulling the whimpering dog away.  I sighed and saw the beast’s massive shaft hanging long and red between its legs and shuddered.

 

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” the woman cooed as she led the dog back to the elevator.  “We don’t have the time right now, but my baby needs his fun so maybe another day.”  She laughed as she got into the elevator car, the dog whining and scrabbling on the slick tiles as the door rumbled shut again.

 

I sighed with relief again, knowing just how close I had come to getting raped by a dog.  I was terrified of the thought, but too, I was hard as a rock and breathing hard with anticipation.  The thought excited me on some bestial level, the ultimate humiliation as I was lowered in status to be a dog’s fuck toy.  God, how low had I sunk?

 

To make matters worse, the elevator door slid open again and out stepped Shannon.  I looked right up at her and she smiled wickedly to see me there on my hands and knees obviously hot and flustered.  She looked gorgeous, dressed in a dark tweed skirt and gray hose, her black leather pumps and black silk blouse.  She was obviously just home from work, dropping a bag of garbage and bottles for recycling.  I averted my eyes as she strode forward, brushing past me.

 

She did not say a word as she swept down the hall, her heels clacking on the stone floor.  I watched her- she WAS beautiful, and saw her stop, glancing back to see if I was looking as she upended her bag of garbage onto the floor that I had just cleaned a little bit before.  She smirked, dropping the plastic bag and strolled casually towards me again.

 

“You missed a spot, bitch,” she said with a laugh as she strode past.  I felt a swat on my butt and I lurched forward in surprise more than pain.  But that was it.  She got back in the elevator and was gone.  I sighed again- I was doing a lot of that- and crawled forward to clean the mess that she had made.

 

And there were others.  There was a woman that came down to do laundry.  She was younger than I was and attractive in blue jeans and a shell top, long brown hair like mine and a shapely figure.  She gave me a long look as she went past and started her wash, then came back out and simply stood in the hallway watching me work.  She didn’t say a word, just stood there, occasionally leaning against the wall and tilting her head curiously.  I don’t know if she was trying to recognize me or wondering if I was a man or a woman.  I kept working though, and eventually she finished her laundry and left.

 

Two men came down dressed for the gym.  One held the elevator door while the other jogged past with his garbage.  I heard them whispering about me as they left.  There was an older woman after that, and then an old man.  Others, some commenting, some simply staring or leering, laughing and even one that whistled and complimented me on the way I wiggled my butt while I worked.  On and on…

 

I knew it was getting late when the UPS man rolled his hand truck past me.  He had stacks of boxes to deliver with the Super as the tenants apparently weren’t home yet.  He was a short, Spanish looking man and a regular familiar face around the building.  I had seen him several times and even talked with him a bit as we shared the elevator, usually discussing the weather or something equally trivial.

 

“6-M right?” he asked with a grin as he knocked on the Super’s door and I nodded.

 

“Yes, Sir,” I said humbly and he laughed again, shaking his head.  I hoped that nothing would happen, and almost luckily Rosa opened the door and greeted the man.  She stared down at me with a scowl and I knew that I should get back to work.

 

Rosa signed for the packages as the UPS guy set them just inside her apartment and took back his clipboard.  They spoke quickly and low in their native dialect, and though I couldn’t follow all of what they were saying I picked out a few choice words that I knew were directed at or about me.  I heard Rosa laugh then for the first time and it was cold and heartless.  I shivered with true fear, glancing up as she smirked, shutting the door.

 

“Panty thief, hunh?” I heard the UPS guy chuckle and looked up to see his grinning leer.  “Who’d a thought?  You seemed normal enough to me, but with that hair…” He shrugged, collapsing his hand truck and simply walked away.  I had thought that maybe he would have at least been helpful, being an outsider in the building.  He was no better than my neighbors though, seemingly unconcerned over my degradation and servitude.  I had no idea what Rosa might have told him, but whatever he seemed convinced that I was doing my penance of my own free will.

 

And in a way I suppose I was, despite the blackmail.

 

Christine came out of her apartment dressed in blue jeans and her leather tennis shoes, wearing that red shirt again.  She smiled widely, her hands on her hips as she scrutinized my work in the hallway, then stepped into the laundry room to see how I had done there.  When she returned she was still smiling.

 

“You did good, Carla.  You seem to have a natural aptitude for scrubbing floors.”  She grinned and I hung my head at her mock praise.  “You deserve a little treat for a job well done,” she went on as she stepped back into her apartment for a second, returning with two bowls that she took into the laundry room.

 

“Come,” she commanded, and I crawled after her.  She set the bowls on the floor near the door of my cell/closet and stepped back directing me to eat.  It was oatmeal and water again, and I wondered how this was a treat.  Hungry as I realized that I was, smelling the instant oatmeal, I didn’t care and bent low to dig in.

 

“I bought you some things,” she said and I heard the bench creak as she sat down, crossing her legs to allow me to eat.  “I’ll give them to you tomorrow though.  It’s Saturday, y’know?”  I didn’t.  I had lost all track of what day it was, and as I ate I realized where she was heading.

 

“Felix and ‘Berto will be home tomorrow and Sunday, and they’ll be in and out down here all day.  I’m going to put you upstairs cleaning over the weekend, but I won’t be able to stay with you so I took some precautions.”  I felt the toe of her shoe nudge me in the butt as she spoke, giggling.  “But tomorrow.  It’ll be a surprise.”

 

I settled back on my haunches as I finished my meal and saw her rise from the corner of my eye.  “All done?” she asked as she opened the door to my cell.  “Get your mattress.”

 

I laid the dry, if not clean mattress in the bottom of the closet, folding it to fit as she ripped off a strip of duct tape.  She pulled my arms back, crossed my wrists and started wrapping the tape round and round as before.  She directed me into my cell and quickly shoved me to the floor then ripped off my golden panties and bound my ankles again.  She finished as before, smiling as she stuffed the panties into my mouth before sealing them in with swaths of tape.  Satisfied, she stepped back out and smiled down at me.

 

“You’re doing good, bitch.  Keep it up and you’ll pay off your crimes in no time.  And remember, no bed-wetting or there’ll be some changes.  Got it?”  I grunted into my gag, nodding as she smirked.

 

“Good.  Now get some sleep.”  Christine blew me a kiss and shut the door, locking the padlock with a cold snap of finality.  I sagged, settling in for another long and uncomfortable night, listening as her footfalls faded with distance, the door to her apartment slamming shut.

 

Of course she left the light on again…

 

EIGHT

 

 

 

I woke to the sound of thunder…

 

There was a moment of disorientation again as I struggled and twisted, wondering what was happening.  You would think after so much bondage and waking up in the cramped confines of my makeshift cell that I would be used to the feeling by now.  Then too, did one ever get used to constant torture?  You endured I supposed, but I wondered if when this was all over if I would be scarred or changed for life.

 

I tried to relax, squirming to get as comfortable on my still smelling mattress as best as I could.  I folded my bound legs a bit more and leaned back against the wall, wiggling to a position that did not hurt my arms pinned behind me.  Finally I simply slumped and closed my eyes again.

 

I could hear the thunder regular.  Apparently the humidity was finally breaking, and a major storm was washing the oppressive weather out to sea at last.  I could hear the rain pattering against the windows in the laundry room beyond and light flashed beneath the door to herald another rumbling boom.

 

I woke again to the sound of the lock on my door being opened, light and shadow flitting through the crack in the base.  I tried to blink away the sleep as the door swung open with a rusty creak and I saw Christine again, ready to start me on another day of drudgery.  She smiled down at me happily.

 

“Morning, Carla,” she cooed as she stepped inside and grabbed me roughly by the arm, dragging me from my cell to splay me face down on the floor.  “Slept well I see,” she continued as she squatted in the tiny closet, dabbing at my mattress.  She stood and stepped back out, closing and locking the door.

 

“No accidents.  Good girl.”  She smirked and stepped across my body again and over to the closed door of the laundry room, listening for noise beyond.  I didn’t hear anything as I looked up at her, watching her fine figure as she cocked a hip and leaned into the door, holding her hair from her ear.  I saw right away that she was wearing those huge hoop earrings as she tilted her head.  She was dressed casually though again in blue jeans and a tight black V-neck shirt with long sleeves bunched up just below her elbows and a pair of gray canvas New Balance cross trainers.  She had her shirt tucked into her pants and I saw that she had on a wide pink leather belt studded with silver and draped over her round hips with her cell phone and taser clipped on.  She looked hot, as usual, and I could feel my erection stirring beneath me.

 

I could tell right away that the room was cooler, the weather outside pleasant, though still warm.  It was summer after all, but the humidity had dropped dramatically and it was even easier to breathe.  Maybe it was cooler than that outside, as she seemed dressed to go out at least for a little while.  My view of the outside world consisted primarily of what I could see from the basement windows, which was not much.  There was a small courtyard, a walkway really with a wall that was covered with graffiti and another building beyond that.  I could just see the lower windows of that building, where there was a dry cleaners, but the glass was so filthy that all I could make out were shadowy images within.  It was always dim outside in the back, the area caught in the shadows of the buildings, so it was not a good judge of the weather.

 

Christine dropped her big shoulder bag right beside my head, snapping me back to her reality as I saw her feet right before my face.  I looked up her forever-long legs to see her grinning down at me over her breasts and I moaned.  She was beautiful, looking sexy and dominant all in one.  I saw too that she held her scissors.

 

I felt her hand on my arms as she crouched down to snip away at the tape that was binding me.  “You’ll be cleaning upstairs today,” she said as she pulled away the duct tape about my arms, shifting position then to get at my legs.  “Felix and ‘Berto will be around, but they’ll be working on the boiler, so you should be fine.”  She shifted again, planting her knee in my back as she slid the blade of her shears beneath the tape of my gag.  She hesitated.

 

“No problems, right?” she asked, and I grunted ‘no’, afraid to move my head.  She snipped away the tape then and ripped it away, careful not to take any of my hair with it.  “Rub out the kinks, sweetie,” she said, standing and lifting her bag to the nearest bench where she sat and crossed her legs, giving me a minute.  I struggled to rise up a bit, slowly stretching as I rubbed at my wrists and ankles to get the circulation going again.  Christine watched me all the while smiling and kicking her leg, which drove me crazy and she knew it.  I could not believe how infatuated I had become with her after all that she had done- and was going to continue doing to me.

 

“I told you I might have some treats for you if you were a good girl,” she said as she started digging through her bag.  “Well, you were, and I do.”  I watched as she pulled out a wide strip of pink leather dotted with little silver studs and a tiny metallic clip that was blinking with a small red LED.  It looked like a miniature version of her belt, and I quickly realized that it was a dog collar, and I then understood what the little clip was.  It was an electronic leash, and when hooked up with perimeter-docking stations would set up a small area to contain me within.  I imagined that if I went beyond that perimeter she would know with some kind of signal.  She laughed as the blood rushed from my face.  She snapped her fingers and then pointed to the floor before her.  I hung my head and crawled closer.

 

Christine leaned forward; gathering my long hair as she first removed my rope leash then draped the collar about my neck and buckled it in place.  She checked the tightness with cool fingers between the leather and my throat, then satisfied produced a tiny silver padlock and snapped it into place, sealing my fate again.  The leather was rough on my throat and it felt strange, but I could breathe.

 

“I figured it was about time to dress you up a bit, Carla,” she went on pulling out a real leash after that, a pink nylon mesh one with a brighter pink leather loop at the grip.  It was all very color coordinated and matched her belt as well.  I simply sighed, my head drooping a bit more with each new treat as I began to realize just how trapped I was becoming.  Still, I knelt there and took it.  What was wrong with me?

 

She settled back on the bench and recrossed her legs, pointing the toe of her shoe at me as she smiled.  “Me and Rosa can’t watch you every minute.  Down here it’s fine, but we can’t stay upstairs with you all day, so I got the idea from all that Martha Stewart stuff on TV, y’know, the ankle bracelets and all.  It took me awhile to find what I wanted, but finally the ‘Sharper Image’ had what I needed.  I could see that you figured out the collar.  I spent a lot of last night setting the beacons up around the building; at the front door and in the elevator, and there’s a mobile one upstairs already.  I don’t WANT to hurt you, but I want you to know that if you stray out of the ‘yard’,” she said with a giggle, “I’ll know, and you’ll get a shock.”  She pulled her taser off of her belt and held it up.  “I got the guys at Sharper Image to hook it all into this.  You stray, or try to run away and this will beep, and you’ll get zapped like a mosquito in a Bug Zapper.  Like this…“

 

My eyes went wide as she depressed a button on her taser with her thumb and about a zillion volts of electricity shot through my body.  My throat constricted as I collapsed to the hard stone floor at her feet and convulsed.  My tongue was wagging and bloated, and I could feel my whole body getting numb as the sensation raced through me over and over.  Through it all I could see her leaning forward, watching me with curiosity and interest, her eyes sparkling with delight as I writhed at her feet.

 

Finally I collapsed as the shock ended.  I was heaving, gasping for breath as I tried to clear my head.  My mind was racing but fuzzy and my whole body was tingling.  My muscles were useless as I sprawled there at her feet, drooling on the floor and trembling, occasionally jerking with a spasm.  I felt her foot on the back of my head, pressing my face to the floor.

 

“Just lay there a minute.  That was the fourth setting, and it goes up to ten.  That’s where I’ll set it once we get upstairs, so know that you better not cross the line.”  I drooled, moaning affirmative.  She simply held me there with her foot on my cheek waiting for me to recover.

 

Finally after a few minutes she stood and strolled to the sorting table across the room where she picked up my alternate uniform, which looked clean once again.  “Get up now,” she said and I rolled back onto my hands and knees, then struggled to rise on shaking legs.  She held out the dress to me.

 

“Carry this, and get my bag,” she said with a snap of her fingers and strolled from the room after unlocking the outer door.  I did as she said, snatching up her bag and shuffling after as fast as I could.  My legs and arms still tingled from the shock of the taser, and by the time I caught up to her in the hallway she was standing with the elevator door open, directing me inside.

 

 We started up into the building and I saw that she had pushed the Sixth Floor button; my own floor.  I was hoping that we would reach our destination without incident, but all too soon the car jerked to a stop.  Christine quickly grabbed my arm and spun me about, shoving my forehead into the corner.

 

“Stay!” she commanded as the door rumbled open.  I closed my eyes, feeling my skin burning with embarrassment as two sets of feet plodded into the car.  I heard a gasp, and then a muffled snicker of amusement, whispers.

 

“I told you about him.  Remember?”

 

“Morning,” Christine said merrily and I heard both a man and a woman respond in kind.  There was a heavy silence as the elevator churned to life again, then I heard whispering again.

 

“Can I ask what’s going on?” I heard the woman’s voice, a familiar voice.  I thought she lived on Five, cute and friendly in a too bubbly kind of way.  If it WAS her, her husband was handsome and suave.  They were both in their forties I thought.  Maybe they would help-

 

“This is Carl from 6M.  I caught him stealing my panties outta the dryer a couple days ago, and rather than have me call the cops on him, he agreed to let me punish him,” Christine said, and I could hear the ‘smirk’ in her voice.  “I think he likes it, though.”

 

There was another moment’s silence, then I heard the woman, “You see?  I knew someone was taking my underwear.”

 

Oh god…

 

The man snorted.  “Little faggot.  Why’s he in a dress?”

 

“I have him cleaning the building,” Christine answered.  “The cleaning woman’s uniform, all the shit work, and I lock him up at night.  It’s all part of his sentence.”

 

“Well, you ought to find out who all he’s stolen from and give us all a chance at some pay back,” the woman suggested.  “I know I’d love to teach the little princess here a lesson or two about respect.”

 

“Ha-ha,” Christine laughed, “That’s not a bad idea.”

 

Thankfully the elevator stopped.  We were on Five I assumed, and I figured that I was safe as I heard the doors rumble behind me and the couple got off.  Then I felt the tug of my leash and Christine followed.

 

“We should exchange e-mails, phone numbers and I’ll get back to you,” she suggested, following the man and woman down the hall towards their apartment.  It was the couple that I had suspected.  The man was tall, and good looking like I said with graying hair and a full, neatly trimmed beard.  The woman was my height, wearing clogs, shorts and a tank top, her long blond hair pulled back from her face with an elastic band over her brow.  I saw her handing Christine two business cards and a pen.

 

“Write down yours,” she said with a smile as her husband unlocked the door before us.  His wife looked me up and down with a wicked grin and I could see the cogs in her head clicking into place as she made mental plans concerning my future servitude under her command.  Christine wrote on the back of the card and handed it and the pen back, smiling as the woman read it aloud.

 

“Great.  Looking forward to hearing from you, Chris.  I can’t wait,” she said as she eyed me again, biting her lip to suppress her grin.

 

“Nice meeting you, Carl,” the man said with a laugh as he nodded at Christine and stepped into the apartment.  Christine and the woman shook hands, kissed cheeks.

 

“Tomorrow maybe,” Christine said, “or the day after.  Soon though.”  The woman nodded again and they said goodbye.  Then she disappeared inside, shutting the door.  Christine jerked on my leash, heading towards the stairs.

 

Christine pulled me into the communal bath and ordered me into the shower to wash.  I quickly stripped, blushing only slightly to be seen naked by her again.  Apparently I was getting used to her and her presence.  She unhooked my leash, but left on the collar and the little taser box.  Apparently it was waterproof.  She handed me a slim pink razor again, and a bit of soap and told me to shave again after I was clean.

 

Christine was sitting on the drainboard waiting for me when I finally stepped out of the shower.  She had her ankles crossed, swinging her legs slightly as she smoked a cigarette, watching as I dried with a coarse towel and got dressed in my clean uniform and my strapped casual ballet slippers.  My hair was a tangled mess, and surprisingly she handed me a comb with a warm smile.

 

“You better comb that out,” she said.  “If it gets any worse I WILL have to cut it off.”  She smiled, watching as I winced, easing the small pocket comb through my long hair.  After a bit she started to dig through her bag again.

 

When I handed her back the comb she handed me a black headband to keep my hair out of my face and directed me on how to put it on.  She then handed me my golden panties, dangling them before me on her outstretched finger.

 

“Can’t forget these, now can we?”

 

I blushed again, but took them, stepping into them as gracefully as I could.  Finally ready I stood tall and actually smoothed my skirt and pulled my hair back out of the way.  Christine chuckled, sliding down off of the drainboard, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke.

 

“You DO like this,” she said with a knowing grin as I squirmed.  I wanted to shout that I hated it, that it was degrading and vicious on her part.  I had suffered enough!  Instead I hung my head.

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, staring at her feet as she blew smoke into my face causing me to gag and cough.  It smelled strange and foul, like the joint that she had forced upon me when this had first began.  My eyes were watering when I saw the butt of her cigarette bounce on the grimy tiled floor between us.  I watched as she snaked out her slim foot, crushing out the smoldering butt with the toe of her gray cross trainer and a sharp twist.

 

“You’ll be cleaning up here today,” she said, “the bathroom, then the hallway outside and you may as well start with that.” She indicated the cigarette, pointing her toe at the smashed butt and smeared ash on the floor.  “Eat it, then lick up that mess,” she commanded.  I shuddered and blanched, but then simply dropped to my hands and knees as she stepped back a bit to lean against the drainboard.

 

I eased my head down and could smell the charred tobacco lingering in the butt mixed with the faint, foul odors ground into the floor tiles; unwashed feet and cleaner, piss and that unnamed smell that permeates all locker rooms.  I licked my lips, grimacing as I stared at the smashed butt and flakes of tobacco streaking the floor in a trail of burnt ash.  I could see Christine’s feet shifting at the edge of sight as I screwed my courage up and pushed down my disgust.  I stuck out my tongue and snagged the butt, drawing it into my mouth.  I swallowed.

 

It tasted horrible and I gagged but after several attempts I managed to get the foam and paper remains of the butt down my throat.  I heard Christine laughing above me as I continued to gulp and gag, swallowing to get it all the way down.

 

“There’s plenty of water in the toilets if you need a drink to wash that down, bitch.”  She laughed all the harder as I moaned, tapping my head with the soft toe of her shoe.  “C’mon, get the rest.”

 

I bent low at her feet and started lapping at the ashen smear on the floor.  If the butt itself was disgusting, then the sooty trail remaining was horrible beyond measure.  I felt my stomach churning as I dragged my tongue across the filthy floor tiles over and over, trying my best to get up the stain in one try.  I knew there was no way that I could do it again if she was not pleased the first time.  It tasted foul, and I was gagging throughout but I kept going and worse I felt my cock growing again at this new degradation.  I was almost pulsing when I finally settled back on my haunches and looked up expectantly.

 

Christine glanced down at the floor and smiled with a slight nod of approval.  “Good girl,” she cooed, then raised her foot and held up the sole of her sneaker before my lips.  “Almost done.”

 

I sagged but leaned forward and started to lick the ash from the sole of her shoe…

 

Christine gave me final directions of the day’s duties before she finally left.  I was to scour out the communal bath first and then start on the hallway outside: scrub the floors and walls, wipe down the light fixtures, etc.  She said  that either her or Rosa would be around to check on me spontaneously as she connected my leash to my collar and wrapped it several turns about my throat before hooking the loop to keep it out of the way.  Finally she reminded me not to go into the stairwells or the elevator as she clicked on the electronic leash attached to my collar.  I felt a slight tingle in my neck as it powered up, but that faded even as Christine ordered me to get to work and left.

 

The bathroom was not too dirty I found after I had started in.  Apparently the Super washed it out regular, though only superficially.  There was mold and mildew in the corners, the shower in spots, behind the toilets.  There was a lot of grout between the floor tiles, and a lot of dust and dirt at the baseboards.  By now of course I knew what to do and what was expected of me so I set to work scrubbing.

 

I had cleaned the sinks and toilets first, considering the latter the worst job, and then went into the shower area to wipe down the walls and scrub the floor.  I was maybe forty-five minutes into the job when I heard the bathroom door swing open and I glanced up to see a man step in.  Not the man from that first day- thank god- but a man none the less.  I bit my lip and hung my head, trying to hide my face as I started scrubbing again.

 

I recognized him as a neighbor from my floor- this floor.  He lived in one of the SRO’s, and I thought that he was a student at NYU, maybe a little older than I was.  He was definitely taller and more masculine, and handsome I guess with his wavy brown hair and winning smile.

 

“Sorry,” I heard him say as he walked up near the shower to get a look at me I assumed.  I looked up and saw him smiling down at me.  He was dressed in blue jeans and a tee shirt, with a casual collared shirt over that.  I saw too that he was wearing a well-worn pair of cowboy boots as I quickly looked away again.

 

“Uh, listen…” he said hesitantly, “I need to use the toilet.  Maybe you want to wait outside a moment?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

I stood, still trying not to meet his face, but as I walked past I felt his hand wrap around my arm.  He stopped me short easily in his firm grip and spun me about.  He stared at me curiously, and when our eyes finally locked I saw the spark of recognition.

 

“I know you.  6-M!”

 

I licked me lips, nodding.  He still held a tight grip on my arm with one hand as he reached out and fingered my dress with the other.  “What the fuck is this?” he asked, pulling out the hem of the skirt to look at my legs.  “Shaved too,” he said and grabbed my chin forcing my head up.  “What are you playin’ at?”

 

“I-“ I started, my voice catching in my throat.  I swallowed.  “I’m not playing, sir.  I’m being punished.”  God, why had I told him that?  I wanted to run and hide but he kept his grip, his other hand fingering my collar now.

 

“Punished hunh?”  He smirked, giving my leash a playful jerk.  “You one a those guys like the rough stuff, hunh?  You’re one’a those submissives, boy?  Like dressin’ up as a maid an’ getting’ ordered around?  You got a mistress in the building?”

 

“I’m not a slave,” I said and his hand shot out, slapping across my cheek.

 

“I didn’t say ‘slave’, boy,” he said, twisting my arm.  “But here I find you wearin’ a collar and on your knees scrubbin’ out the shower, maybe you are?  That right?”

 

“Nnngh…” I said, gritting my teeth as he twisted my arm around and up into the small of my back, forcing me to strain to my tip toes with the pressure.  I felt his hot breath on my neck as he leaned in close.

 

“Yeah, you like this don’t ya?” he said, grinding on my arm and causing me to whine in pain.  He was strong and had the leverage.  Too, he was taller than me and held me easily because of it.  “Does Mama spank you at night?” he asked, his other hand wrapping about my leash, looping it.  “You lick a little pussy if you do good, hunh?”

 

“No…” I said as he tugged on my leash and heaved me off of my feet by my arm.  I screamed as I dangled in his grip, kicking my legs and trying to find the floor.

 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he whispered, carrying me away from the showers and towards the toilets.  I screamed and kicked all the harder but he choked me with the collar and cut off my yelling.  “I like it when you fight.”  He shoved one of the stall doors open and forced me to my knees.

 

I felt his strong legs on either side of my legs as he continued to grind on my arm, inching my head towards the toilet.  He was laughing.

 

“Who’s your mommy, bitch boy?” he sneered, forcing my head into the bowl with my face just above the clear water.  Luckily I had cleaned the toilets already, but I knew what was coming.

 

“Christine…” I moaned, staring at my reflection in the bowl, the water rippling as my hair dangled in.

 

“Who’s that?  What apartment?  She lives here, yeah?” he asked, twisting my arm higher.

 

“The Super’s daughter-in law,” I replied, my voice echoing in the bowl.

 

“Yeah, I know her- seen her, anyway.  She’s your mistress?”

 

“No,” I whined, trying to explain through the pain.  “She thinks I was stealing panties.  Said she’d call the cops unless I did as she said.  She makes me do this: dress like a woman, scrub and clean and…”

 

“And what?” he asked, shoving my face down again until my hair was drenched at the ends and my nose hit the water.

 

“Whatever she says.”  I winced, but tried not to give any details, not wanting to give him ideas.

 

“Hah!  That’s cute.”  Suddenly he jerked my head out of the toilet and finally let go of my arm, though he kept my leash tight in his fist and that taut on my collar.  “Ya know what though?  You wanna know the irony in all this?” he asked, his fingers snaking into my hair and pulling hard.  I gasped with the pain and opened my mouth to scream.

 

I saw the silky, shiny wad of cloth balled up in his fingers as he shoved it forward and into my gaping mouth to stifle my screams.  My eyes went wide as he shoved them deeply into my throat, and I knew instantly what they were, and suddenly suspected the irony.

 

“I’m the panty thief,” he jeered, mocking as he whipped me up and around again, shoving my head down into the toilet.  He held me under as I struggled and gagged.  I heard and felt the sudden rush of water swirling about me.  For a moment I heard his laughter and gasped for breath as the water washed down the pipe and the bowl suddenly started to fill again.  He flushed one more time, then pulled me back out of the bowl.

 

He threw me to the floor beside the toilet, watching me as I sputtered and coughed, trying to catch my breath around the sodden pair of panties balled up in my mouth.  I was gasping as I stared up at his face, saw his mocking grin as he looked down at me.

 

“You just stay there for a minute,” he said and I felt the sharp toe of his boot jam into my thigh.  I curled up there on the floor, half wrapped about the base of the toilet and trying to regain my breath as he stepped up and undid the button fly in his blue jeans.  He reached in and delicately withdrew his penis- all eight inches that I could see.  He laughed to see my eyes grow huge.

 

“Like that, hunh?” he chuckled as he aimed it, first at me, then at the toilet as a hot dark stream of urine shot forth.  How he managed to just pee like that with me there watching I had no idea.  I never could.

 

His piss streamed for awhile, long and hard but eventually I saw it lessen.  I heard him chuckle again then, and when I looked up he hit me squarely in the face.  He washed his urine down my body, finally letting the last spatter on the floor, jiggling his cock to get out the last spurts.  He smirked, sliding his dick back into his pants and buttoning his fly.

 

“Wipe that up,” he commanded, pointing to the splattered puddle sitting atop the floor tiles.  “Take the panties out of your mouth and dab it all up.”

 

He watched, crossing his arms and standing over me as I did as he said.  I took the silky panties out of my mouth and started to sop up the mess, but they were flimsy and thin.  They were soon dripping, and I looked up again.

 

“Guess you better lick up the rest, bitch.”

 

I shuddered, but I could see in his eyes that he had no problem forcing me to do as he ordered, or beating the shit out of me if I refused.  I twisted about and got on my knees again, pulled my long hair back and started lapping at what was left.

 

It tasted bitter and foul, a harsh, acrid flavor mixed with the cleaner and dirt on the floor.  I was gagging as I licked at the tiles, inching towards the toe of his boot as he was standing in the edge of the puddle.  He did not move his foot.

 

“Go ahead, slut,” he said, actually sliding his boot forward and into the mess.  “Lick it up.”

 

I bent low and licked about the sole of his boot, then started in on the leather of his cowboy boot itself.  It tasted old, but the smell was rich and deep and the leather was soft to my tongue.  I knelt there for some time, polishing his boot with my tongue until he eventually stepped back and placed his foot on the toilet bowl’s rim.  “And the bottom,” he said with a snigger, forcing me even lower to get at the dirty sole of his boot.

 

Finally he seemed satisfied and stepped back, watching as I finished up the floor.  “Now put the panties back in your mouth.”  I licked my lips and did as I was told, gagging again at the sodden mess.

 

“I want those back,” he said, stepping away, “and I want ‘em clean next time I see you, so you better suck ‘em good or I’ll give you something meatier to practice on.”

 

He laughed as he let the stall door swing shut.  I heard the sound of his heels clacking as he walked towards and out the door, leaving me there on the floor in the stall, sucking his urine from the panties.

 

What else could I do?

 

I got up and out of the stall, staggering towards the sink.  I looked in the mirror, and saw what a mess I was.  My cheeks bulged from the panties in my mouth, and my face was streaked and stained with urine, as was my uniform.  I sighed, a snotty sound through my nose staring hard at what I had become.  He had called me a slave, and he was right I knew.  Why I had allowed it to happen I had no idea, but I did know that it had to end.  I had to get out of here.

 

I spat the panties out into the sink and headed to the door.  Listening first I quietly slipped out into the hallway, easing down the corridor slowly, my mind racing.  I had no idea what I was going to do, or even where I might go if I succeeded.  I had no friends really, just a couple people that I worked with and I doubted that they would appreciate me knocking on their door in my condition even if I could reach their homes.  One thing at a time though.

 

As I crept closer to the stairs I immediately saw the small base station for my ‘electric leash’.  It was screwed into the wall near the baseboard in the corner on the landing; just a little black box with a blinking red light emitting diode that kept me in check.  I knew That I would never make it past that, and I was sure that there was another in the other stairwell, and, depending on how much money she spent probably several more scattered throughout the building, including in the elevator.  Maybe if I was a comic book hero I could swing down and around at the odd angle to get past, but me being a less than average guy in a dress I was screwed.

 

I had to get the damned collar off.  I knew that as I made my way silently back down the hall.  How was the question though?  I tugged on the leather about my throat and knew that it would never give.  The little lock was tiny, but beyond my ability to snap, and even the electronic chip in the collar seemed welded in place.  I could cut it off, but there was nothing sharp in the communal bathroom.  I had scissors and razor blades in my SRO apartment, but I knew that had to be locked.  Still, maybe it was time that my luck shifted.

 

I swallowed, hopeful and praying as I reached out and gripped the knob on the door to my apartment.  I almost came when it turned and I heard a click.  It was unlocked, and almost giddy and crying I pushed the door open.

 

Shannon glanced up, her eyes wide at first no doubt wondering what was going on.  My own face probably mirrored hers at least for a moment as I quickly scanned my room.  She was sitting on my bed, which was simply the bare frame sans sheets, pillow and mattress, her legs crossed as she read through a stack of papers in her lap.  I saw that my shelves and dresser were almost empty save for a few essentials.  My television was still there, and my plant and fan but otherwise most everything was gone.  There were a couple boxes on the floor by her feet filled with notebooks and papers that were mine, and she seemed to be going through them, reading my private stories.

 

She was dressed in a black and blue ensemble of biker pants and sports bra with a bare midriff tank top over that.  She had on a pair of canvas and leather running shoes, her short hair pulled back in a tiny tail and a thin wire rimmed pair of reading glasses resting on her nose.  I looked back to her face and saw her eyes quickly narrow at my intrusion- into MY apartment.

 

“What’re you doing?” she asked, setting the papers aside.  She looked angry as she shifted on the bed frame, uncrossing her smooth, tanned legs.

 

“Me?” I sputtered in disbelief.  It looked as though she was moving me out of my apartment.  “What are you doing in here?”

 

She was on her feet in a flash, her arm snaking out and the palm of her hand slapping across my cheek.  I yelped in surprise and pain as I staggered back into the hall, my hand going to the burning spot on my face.  Shannon followed and slapped me again across the opposite side.

 

I slammed against the wall and slid to the floor, tears welling in my eyes as I saw her rear a leg back and quickly kicked me in the thigh.  I recoiled with the pain of the hard rubber toe of her shoe, curling up as she drove her foot into me again.

 

“Don’t you EVER question me!” she shouted, kicking me a third time.  “Never!”   She slammed her foot down hard onto my hip and I whined.  I raised my arm to fend her off, or at least try to, but I could feel the submissiveness rolling over me again.  What was happening?  I lay there taking her abuse as she cursed and spat, beating me down.  I was crying, bawling.

 

Finally she leaned in and gathered up my leash, looping it about her fist as she jerked, forcing me to tumble completely to the floor at her feet.  She rammed the sole of her shoe against my face and applied pressure until I was flush with the floor, finally leaning over and resting her arms on her cocked knee.

 

“Little bitch,” she snarled, leering down at me.  “Christine’s too nice to you.  I ought’a beat your ass for this, and I would if you were mine.  You’re lucky.”  She ground the sole of her shoe into my face until I was whimpering, begging her to stop.  Finally she did and stepped off of my face.  I looked up through teary eyes and saw her wicked grin.

 

“What…” I whispered, biting my tongue, knowing I would get more abuse, but I had to know.  “My apartment…”

 

Shannon drew her leg back as though to kick me again, but just as quickly hesitated and planted it on the floor.  I saw an evil gleam in her eyes that made me shudder, and then she chuckled.

 

“Why not?” she said with a cruel smirk.  She squatted down and I felt her other hand twist into my hair until her fist was tight and causing me even more pain.  “Christine and I decided to make your little room into a home away from home for the both of us.  It’s just right, maybe a little tight, but it’ll make a good office for me and a nice little rendezvous room for her.  Someplace to take any special guests she might bring home that she doesn’t want her husband to meet.  A girl- a real girl that is, does need her private time.  Besides, you have a new little home in the basement don’cha; a nice, cozy closet.”  Shannon laughed and shook my head roughly until I agreed.

 

Finally she stood again and gave my leash a jerk as she stepped back towards my- her room.  I resisted just for a second; my dreams of freedom shattered and finally crawled along the still dirty floor and followed her inside.  She slammed the door with a finality that seemed almost a death knell to me and I started to cry again…

 

NINE

 

 

 

WHAP!

 

“Eei-nnn…”

 

WHAP!

 

“Nnnn-nnn…”

 

WHAP!

 

“Nnnn-eee…”

 

I gasped snot through my nose, snuffling as my whipping stopped, at least for the moment and Shannon answered the annoyingly loud digital melody of her cell phone.  I was sweating bullets with tears streaming down my face and falling to a spotty puddle on the floor beneath me.  My hair was wild and hanging about my head, clinging to my cheeks as I hung there draped across Shannon’s lap.  I stared at her feet as I sniffed, trying to ignore the burn in my ass cheeks and listening to her conversation, wondering only a moment who she might be talking to…

 

“Hello?” she asked, and I felt the thick rubber sole of her sandal tapping my ass playfully, rhythmically making me squirm.  She had retrieved a pair of her summer sandals from her own room next door after she had bound and gagged me- thoroughly I might add- and decided on my punishment.

 

Shannon had dragged me willingly, or at least obediently back into the room that had once been mine and ordered me to kneel before her with my head to the floor.  I watched as she stepped about for a moment, then stepped over me to straddle me from behind.

 

“You’re gonna regret your little bid for freedom, neighbor,” she mocked as she grabbed my arms and jerked them roughly into place: folded behind my back with my right hand to my left elbow and visa-versa.  There was a ripping noise and I swiftly felt the familiar stickiness of silver duct tape as she started in wrapping a thick swath about first one wrist and then thee other.  In less than a minute she had my arms pinned tightly behind me and in such a way that I could not even get to the tape with my fingers to even try to escape.  I sensed her shift her stance then, and a second later felt the tape rolling about my ankles.  She applied several turns, layer upon layer as she tugged each tighter and tighter.  I would be able to stand when she finished, maybe hop precariously, but walking would be out of the question.  A moment later and she had my knees bound as well, and she then sat on the bed to survey her work with me still kneeling on the floor before her.

 

“You look sooo hot like that,” she said and I felt the toe of her shoe rubbing against my chest and under my chin.  “I never had any kind of interest in you before.  You’re such a girly guy with that hair, and I sure don’t like guys my size- hell, smaller,” she giggled, moving her toe to my cheek and scratched the rubber sole on my flushed skin, brushing at my hair.  “But like this…”

 

She gave me a sudden shove and I tumbled over onto my side with a thud and a moan.  I fell on my elbow, my funny bone and a new kind of pain shot through me, causing me to whine.  Shannon simply laughed.

 

“What a pussy.  Still,” she said, leaning down towards me with a sneer, “can’t have you making all that noise now can we?”

 

Shannon produced a wadded up rag that she had been using to dust and clean with and shoved it deeply into my mouth before going to the duct tape again.  Several turns had me breathing through my nose and whimpering mutely.  Finally satisfied she stood tall and planted her hands on her hips, grinning down at me evilly.

 

“Now then…”

 

Shannon bent and easily hefted me to my feet.  I saw her muscles bulge with the effort- there was some- but I saw that she was in fantastic shape and barely grunted at my almost dead weight.  She stood me there for a moment, then told me not to move as she went to the door, shoving me back and off-balance against the wall.  She listened briefly for noise out in the hallway, then swiftly slipped out, pulling my door to.  I heard her own door open but my eyes were focused on my own and growing wide as it slowly swung open as a warm breeze wafted through the room from the hall.

 

I stared out into the dim hallway, my eyes huge with fright as I trembled expecting anyone to pass by and look in on my helplessness.  I whimpered and struggled as best as I could, but I was way too tightly bound to get away and did nothing except slide a bit against the wall.  I stopped my useless struggles for fear of falling and simply closed my eyes to wait, praying for the best.

 

I jumped as Shannon’s door slammed and a second later my own echoed hers as she stepped back into the room with a huge grin.  She held up her leather sandals made with criss-crossing, wide straps and thick rubber soles.  At first I though that she was going to put them on me, but when she tossed them onto the bed frame and sat down, then pulled me gracelessly over her lap I knew exactly what she was about to do.  I swallowed and started to kick a bit, but she just giggled and cooed as she hefted me up a bit and snuggled me into position.

 

“You deserve this, girlie,” she said and I felt her tugging at the hem of my short skirt, hiking it up to my waist.  “You know it, and I know it.”  I felt her hand rubbing softly over my panty clad ass and I heard her coo with obvious delight.  “Pretty,” she said with a snigger as she snapped the waistband once, then hooked her fingers in and tugged the golden panties down to the tape above my knees, totally exposing my bare butt for her pleasure.  She patted my ass and I moaned.

 

“Yeah, you know what’s coming,” she said as she gave me a hard pinch, causing me to squeal like a pig.  I squirmed as she continued, “for banging on my wall and not holding the elevator and the front door, for basically being an ass and causing so many people so much grief.”

 

WHAP!

 

I screamed as the first blow landed suddenly and painfully.  It stung at first shock, but the real pain swiftly sunk in and even before I realized just how painful it really was I lurched forward at her second blow.  I started writhing about, struggling to avoid her swats with the heavy sole of her sandal, but Shannon simply planted her free hand in the small of my back and held me down as a third blow landed squarely on my left ass cheek.  I howled into my gag, and heard her tsk at the muffled noise I made.

 

“Good thing I gagged you, Carla,” she said, delivering another.  “Can’t have you disturbing the neighbors.  They might start banging on the wall.”  She chuckled.

 

WHAP!

 

“But you gotta count, girl.  I can’t be doing all the work here.  How many was that?"

 

I sniffed, tears already streaking my face as I shook my head.  She had neglected to tell me my part in my punishment- beyond my being on the obvious receiving end of course.  “Don’t know?”

 

WHAP!

 

“Well, then I guess we better start over, hunh?  Just to be fair.  I wouldn’t want to cheat you after all.  Count!”

 

WHAP!

 

“Nnnn…”

 

I did, grunting into my gag.  We had reached twenty when she stopped to answer the phone…

 

“Oh, hi… No… No, I don’t have to check.  Because she’s right here draped over my lap and getting the spanking she deserves.  No, listen… Our little princess here was trying to get away…”

 

I listened with my head hanging low as Shannon retold our encounter right up to the point of my twenty-plus swats.  She continued to tap my butt with the sandal as she and Christine (at least I was fairly certain it was Christine) laughed and giggled as though junior high school girls talking about boys they liked- or not.  I assumed I fell in with the latter group as I squirmed and wiggled at Shannon’s touch while they discussed me, and what was apparently going to happen later that day.  I simply stared at Shannon’s legs and feet, waiting and willing the burn away.  It was some time before I heard my captor’s phone beep off and snap shut.

 

“That was Christine, sweetie,” Shannon said as she ran the flat of her hand over my warm ass cheeks.  “Ooo, so warm.  I like that.”  Shannon scratched her nails along my tender skin, making me writhe a bit before she continued.

 

“She’s very disappointed that you were trying to escape, Carla.  In fact, she told me that she was probably gonna let you go in the morning.  Seems her husband was so happy with the work she’d done around the building that they’re going out to dinner and dancing tonight to celebrate.  She was so happy, at least until I told her what you did.”  Shannon pinched my ass and laughed.  “Stupid bitch.  Now you’re mine for the night.  At least until Chris gets back home.  Thing is, I can’t even enjoy you for awhile yet.  I wanted to finish up in here tonight, and I still have a lot of junk to go through, so here’s the deal…”

 

With a shove, Shannon heaved me off of her sweaty lap and onto the floor.  I hit hard again- same elbow, which set the tears to flowing again, but she just ignored me.  She grabbed my bound arms and hoisted me first to my knees and then to my feet, then helped me to balance as she made me hop into the corner of the room, or the closest empty equivalent, where the dresser was pressed to the wall.  I heard the duct tape rip again as she spoke.

 

“I want you to stand there and be quiet until I’m done, girly,” she said as she hefted the hem of my skirt higher again.  “But I want to see that sweet, cherry red ass of yours, so…” Shannon pressed the duct tape to the upturned hem of my uniform dress, then simply patted it down against the end of my long hair until it was thoroughly stuck.  I realized quickly that tipping my head back would lower my skirt about an inch, but it was hard to hold and breathe in that position.  Lowering my head in turn raised my skirt higher and tugged on my hair.  The most comfortable was right in the middle, standing at mock attention.  Shannon flicked my butt with her finger, causing me to jump.

 

“Now you stay put, and not a peep or it’s back across mommy’s lap.”

 

And that was it.  I was left thus, standing at attention for I don’t know how long.  It was hours though I expect as before too long I was feeling the heat of the sun as it blazed through the window, rolling slowly across the sky.  There were a few wispy clouds on the horizon moving only a little faster than the sun, and occasionally I could see a plane far in the distance coming or going from JFK or La Guardia in Queens.  I saw pigeons from time to time as they landed on the ledge outside my window, and once I even saw a traffic helicopter hovering not too far away.  I hoped that the crew wasn’t filming me for the nightly news and I clenched my eyelids shut, wishing them away.

 

Shannon basically ignored me throughout.  I heard the metal frame of the bed shift and creak under her weight as she continued to go through my papers and personal things.  Occasionally I would hear her whisper outloud as she read something to herself, but more often there was an almost deathly silence as she was absorbed in her reading, intrigued by something.  I feared the worst.

 

It was mortifying too that she would simply come and go as she pleased while I had to stand there at attention.  It was humiliating, but exciting too and I felt my penis starting to rise to attention every time she left, and even more when she came back.  Over the time I heard her open bottles of water, then guzzling loudly for my benefit I was sure.  She would gasp with pleasure, but otherwise ignore me.  She ate lunch at some point, and my stomach started to growl as I smelled the food that she must have ordered, or maybe heated in a microwave in her apartment.  She turned on the radio in her room too, loud enough to be heard through the wall and when she returned that time she eventually started humming, occasionally singing along.  It all went on for some time…

 

***

 

My feet were killing me, and I had to piss.  I watched as the sky started to thicken both with clouds and the dimming light of night as the sun started to set.  I HAD been standing there for hours, and it was really starting to hurt.  Worst, Shannon had not even been in the room for some time and I was wondering if she had forgotten about me.

 

No such luck.

 

I heard the locks turn in the door and a moment later it swung open, a refreshing breeze washing over me and blowing my hair about.  The door slammed shut and I heard Shannon step closer as her cool hand checked my duct-taped arms.

 

“Still with us, sweetie?” I heard her hiss as she leaned in close.  Her warm breath smelled of beer as her tongue suddenly licked at the lobe of my ear making me quiver and tingle.  My penis jumped to ramrod stiffness- all five inches!  Shannon laughed, and I heard another all too familiar giggle behind hers.  It was Christine.

 

“Don’t tease her, Shannon,” Christine said, still giggling as I heard the bed creak.  I felt Shannon’s hands on my shoulders and with a little help and urging she directed me to slowly spin about in place by shuffling my feet.

 

“You’re no fun, Chris,” Shannon countered as she repositioned me.  I saw immediately that she had changed clothes and was now wearing a thin, short cotton top of drab green and with spaghetti straps down to the low, loose tube-like top.  She had on no bra and I could see her cleavage well as I glanced down and saw her in a pair of gray boxer shorts and black rubber flip-flops on her feet.  “What good is he if we can’t tease him?”

 

I heard Christine’s silver-bell giggle again and glanced her way.  My eyes bulged and my tiny erection gained a new inch as never before as I looked her up and down, sitting there on my bed with her legs crossed and a cigarette in hand.  She was gorgeous.

 

She had on the coveted ‘little black dress’, which was a one-piece strappy thing that reached to mid-thigh and showed off her legs.  She was wearing real nylons and a garter belt, smoky colored and the wide-topped bands just showing beneath her pleated skirt as she recrossed her legs and bobbed her foot.  She was smiling as I stared at her black, strappy sandals with high stiletto heels.  She was looking at my throbbing penis, knowing that the simple movement of her legs was exciting me no end.  Even through her dark stockings I could see that she had repainted her toe nails a dark violet, and her fingernails as well to match her lipstick and eye shadow.  She wore silver to accentuate: bracelets and hoop earrings, a studded black leather belt that was thin and hanging low on her hips, an ankle chain and necklace and a coiled band on her arm shaped like a snake with a purple jewel sparkling for an eye.  She was watching me watching her as our eyes met briefly and she grinned, blowing smoke and standing.  She gave a spin and I almost creamed as her skirt flared about her long legs.

 

“You like?” she asked as she stepped right up to me, taking a drag from her cigarette and blowing smoke into my face.  I nodded, coughing into my gag.  “Good.”

 

Christine reached out and jammed the cigarette into my arm.  I screamed as she held it there, crushing it out while Shannon held me and laughed.  Finally Christine removed the butt, and while she twisted it with the toe of her sandal she reared back and slapped me.

 

“Ungrateful bitch!  You said you’d do whatever I said to make amends, and now I hear this shit!  You try to run away!”  She slapped me again, and Shannon struggled to hold me up as I saw stars spinning in the explosions of gray.

 

“I was gonna let you go, ass hole,” she said as she grabbed my cock and balls and squeezed.  I saw red as I swayed in agony, screaming at her touch but Shannon held me tight and up.  “Now, you get more.  And if you think you had it bad before, well, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, bitch!”

 

Christine gave my package a final hard squeeze and a twist, and as she let me go Shannon did as well, shoving me to the floor.  I fell sideways, crashing first against the edge of the bed and then to my knees before falling face first to the hard wood.  Stars exploded as the gray of unconsciousness washed over me, fading the color from my vision as I blinked, trying to stay awake.

 

I saw Christine’s foot just inches from my face, blurring in and out of sight as it slowly swung backwards.  I blinked, cringing to see it shooting forward, her toes rocketing towards my face.  That was the last thing I saw for some time…

 

***

 

I woke to darkness…

 

I was on my back, and I could feel the metal frame of the bed beneath a thick blanket that someone had draped beneath me, so I knew that I was still in my once room and stripped naked except for my collar.  I was still bound, though differently.  My arms were sort of cocked and just over my head, tied off to the top corners of the bed frame.  With a little painful movement I learned that my ankles were similarly bound, making me in a sort of spread eagle position.  I was still gagged as well, and there WAS pain, believe me.

 

My arm burned with a sharp, piercing soreness that stabbed into me with the slightest movement.  My ass felt as though it was on fire from my spanking earlier, and my face throbbed from Christine’s final kick.  Too, there were all the old injuries that I had received since I had submitted to Christine’s punishment.  I had been beaten, kicked, punched and forced to crawl around on my knees for what seemed forever now, and with apparently no end in sight.

 

Even though they had imprisoned me- hell, kidnapped me both Christine and Shannon seemed to feel that I had offended them by trying to get away.  That was hardly my point of view, but then I had agreed to Christine’s initial demands and was now in no position to argue.  I could barely breathe, let alone talk.

 

Worse, I had pissed them both off.  Shannon did not care a whit I knew.  There was no mercy in her, but at least with Christine I had thought that I had a slim task of paying off my alleged debt and being freed soon.  Now however I did not think that that would happen.  Thinking on it though, it started to sink in that maybe that was never part of the deal.

 

If there was an eventual shot at freedom, then why were the two women emptying out my apartment?  And they had gotten rid of all my stuff with a few exceptions.  Too, Christine and/or Shannon had my credit cards and bank account information- not that I had much in either to play with; all my money.  A cold shiver ran through my body as I started to form a horrible idea…

 

They were making me disappear.

 

They had literally made me vanish from my apartment, and Christine as the Super’s daughter-in-law would have no problem getting the lease put in her name, and probably even emptying my accounts and maxxing out my credit to pay for it all.  I had no friends really, no family to speak of, and the few people that I worked freelance for would simply give up trying to contact me after a while of unanswered e-mails and phone calls.  A short while, as they had deadlines and plenty of other people out there in the market to do my job.

 

And even if someone that I knew saw me, they would not even recognize me now.  Christine had easily disguised me, dressing me up as a woman, and worse a maid.  I had learned just over a couple days how far beneath notice that the lower working class was to people like I had been.  I had become one of the gray and faceless masses; a servant really to do the drudgework, maybe get an occasional greeting but otherwise ignored.  I was beneath the other tenants of the building, and those few neighbors that had recognized me did not seem to care that I was now little more than a slave.

 

A wave of depression washed over me, threatening to drown me in despair as I stared into the darkness.  I saw that one of them had drawn a shade over the window, so there was no light at all, nothing to distract or-

 

I gasped as a match exploded, a stark face lit in the brilliant flare.  I blinked, trying to focus and saw Christine puffing a joint to life.  She waved the match out and the joint glowed, lighting her face queerly as she took a long drag.  I smelled the smoke as it roiled over me in her exhales.  She had been there all along.

 

“Comfy?” she asked with a cool giggle and I saw the glowing tip of the rolled joint move closer.  She took another drag and I saw her eyes riveted with mine.  She leaned in close and I could smell her sweat and perfume as she slowly blew her smoke over my face.  I breathed in the second hand smoke and quickly felt the world tilt.  I was weak and tired, sore and hungry and the marijuana hit me swiftly and with a force.

 

Christine chuckled and I felt the warmth of her body as she threw a leg over my own and settled, sitting on my chest.  It hurt as she adjusted her position, the metal slats of the bed frame digging into my still tender backside and aching muscles.  She was staring down at me, and I could just make out her outline, a soft edge to her smiling, drunken features in the glow of the butt.  Too, I could feel the dampness between her legs, and her pubic hair as she inched up a bit.  She was not wearing panties, and I could smell her pussy now, she was so close.

 

I squirmed to feel her fingers grasp and roughly twist my nipple, and she giggled again, taking another hit and enjoying my pain, rocking with me as I writhed, like riding a horse.

 

“Yeah, baby… Ooo… I love that…”

 

I struggled not to struggle, but it hurt, and I could barely breathe as she continued to blow smoke in my face.  I could feel my coherence slipping away as I started to get high.  My eyes went wide again as I saw her holding up a blood red blade; scissors shining in the red glow of the MJ.  She smirked and started to snip away at my tape gag, finally ripping off the tails and pulling the stiff, dry cloth from my mouth, tossing it aside along with the scissors that clattered on the floor.

 

Christine slipped the joint between her full, dark lips as she moved forward again until her knees were pressing into my arms and her pussy was right at my lips.  She pressed her skirt to her as she stared down at me, taking a drag and then holding the joint against my pressed lips.  She smirked.

 

“Must I take such drastic measures again?” she asked, quoting a movie though I wondered whether she actually knew it.  I took the joint and sucked, holding it while she watched, cocking her head sweetly, her hoop earring sparkling in the dim light of the joint.

 

“I had a wonderful time,” she said, staring off into space.  “’Berto took me to the Mesa Grill, and then we went dancing at the Limelight.  He was very loving and affectionate, y’know?” she said with a wispy smile before looking down on me again and pressing the joint to my lips once more.  It was almost dusted.  “Then we came home and had wild sex for about five minutes before he was done.”

 

Christine sighed as I exhaled.  She rolled the joint between her fingers and finally snuffed it out behind her.  I heard a ‘hiss’ and figured that she had a drink nearby.  “He’s out,” she continued, and I could hear a sadness in her voice.  “Snoring like a saw and drunk off his ass.  He barely got it in before he came.”  She inched forward again, until her cunt was covering my face.  My head was spinning and I could barely breathe as she pressed her thighs tightly together.

 

“He left you a present though- a little treat.  Lick!” she commanded and squeezed my head until I did as I was told.  My world was spinning, and right then and there, there was nothing more that I wanted to do but please her and make her happy.  Her husband was a stupid shit for leaving her wanting.  God!  Didn’t he know the goddess that he was married to?  I’d do anything for her.  Anything that she…

 

Anything…

 

My eyes went wide as I realized what was happening.  I heard her breathing quickening as I licked, and even when I stopped she was still panting, already caught in the throes of orgasm.  I could taste Roberto’s semen on my tongue and that sobered me right up, at least for a few moments.  What was I doing?  Just minutes before I was whining that I was done, and now I was willingly doing whatever Christine asked.  Why?

 

Was she doing something to me?  To my mind?

 

I felt her legs press against the sides of my head as she continued to buck and ride my face.  Her fingers scrambled over my cum-soaked, sweaty face until she found my nose and squeezed my nostrils shut.

 

“Lick, dammit!” she commanded, and I did.  My head spinning again.  Then I stopped.  “Lick!  LICK!”

 

I held fast, straining against her order.  My every fiber wanted to eat her out, but she was doing something to me to keep me coming back for more.  I knew that she was.  She had to be.  I was not THAT much of a pervert.  The marijuana maybe.  Was it sapping my will?  Maybe she was hypnotizing me somehow.  Maybe she was bringing out and playing on some deeply hidden fantasies…

 

The world started to spin into gray again as I was suffocating.  My eyes went wide and she was staring down at me, her dark eyes cold and heartless.

 

“You wanna die?” she asked, and I stared back at her beautiful face and shook my head.  No, I was not ready to die.  I had not suffered enough, apparently.  Not enough for that.

 

“Then lick, bitch!”

 

Christine released my nose and I did.  For all that I was worth, long and hard.  Christine was soon screaming with pleasure, and before too long Shannon was banging on the wall…

 

 

TEN

 

 

 

I blinked, straining to focus against the harsh glow of light coming through the window.  It was red, casting the room in a garish tinge of scarlet that made my vision swim, and set my head to spinning again.

 

I moaned, trying to move and set my body screaming with pain again.  I was still tied to the bed frame I quickly realized, feeling the metal slats biting at my naked flesh directly.  Someone, probably Christine had removed the thick blanket, which had been beneath me before.  I tried to lie still and let my eyes adjust to the growing light, getting my bearings.

 

My ass still burned from the spanking that I had received from Shannon the night before, as well as the kicks and punches, the grinding on my knees from the hours of servile drudgery.  My wrists were sore and my hands were numb from struggling against the nylon binding and chaffing my skin.  My ankles were only a little less sore, but as I lay there I soon felt every pain with a passion.  And something new as well, as I craned my neck to look down my smooth body…

 

Christine had applied a parting gift to my nipples: huge metal clamps used to bundle papers together were pressing hard and I felt the bite as I moved.  I knew it would hurt all the more when they were eventually removed as the blood rushed back, but for now the pain was constant, like a toothache.  Something else to look forward to, I supposed.

 

My skin about my face and neck and chest felt sticky and dry I noticed as I moved about.  I smelled of sweat and perfume and cum, a sickly sweet mixture that kept feeding my already swirling head.  Christine had had her fun, apparently, and had not even bothered to clean me up.  Or gag me…

 

I worked my jaws.  I licked my dry, chapped lips but my tongue felt swollen almost and I had little spit.  I tried to speak, but at first little came out but a scratchy, muffled gasp.  I tried though, struggled to get my voice.

 

“… he… hel… Hel…”

 

I gagged, choking and hacking as phlegm caught up in my throat.  I swallowed, drooling down my chin.

 

“Help…

 

“Help… Me…

 

“Help me!  HELP!”

 

I yelled, louder and louder, pulling at my bonds and arching my back, struggling against the pain wracking my abused body as best as I could.  There was no chance of my escaping, not without help, but at that point I was simply mad with frustration and trying to make as much noise as I could.  I did not think or realize that Shannon might hear me before anyone else- her apartment was right next door, but too, I did not care.  What else could they do to me, short of killing me?

 

Little did I know…

 

“Hello?”

 

I lay back, breathing hard from my exertions and listening intently.  Had I heard-

 

KNOCK KNOCK!

 

Yes!

 

“Help!” I shouted.  There was someone on the other side of the door.  Someone who was not Christine or Shannon or any of the others that knew of my imprisonment, or so I hoped.

 

“Hello?” the voice said again, questioning.  It was a woman’s voice.

 

“Help me please!  Help!  I’m trapped!”

 

“Trapped?”

 

“I’m… I’m sick!” I lied.  I had to get her to open the door and set me free.  I figured the door was locked though.  “I need an… Call… bust down the door!  Hurry!”

 

“Okay!  Okay,” the voice said sounding a bit excited now.  “I’ll call the police!”

 

“No!” I shouted.  No police.  There would be questions, and if Christine or Shannon wanted, I would be locked up.  “Just get the door open.  I’ve fallen and I need my medicine.”  That sounded good.  Believable at any rate, but there was a silence.

 

I heard the doorknob rattle.  Then something shoved against the door itself.

 

“It’s locked.  I can’t get in.  I need a key…”

 

“Break it down…” I yelled, but the voice cut over me, moving away.

 

“I’ll call the Super!”

 

“No!  Wait!”  Too late I heard another door slam shut, the sound echoing through the hallway.  I did not want the Super to find me like this.  God.  There would be questions, and he would be sympathetic to Christine of course.  She was his daughter-in-law after all.

 

There was a long spell of silence as I continued to strain at my bindings.  Now more than ever I had to get away, but despite my best efforts the nylon would not give a bit.  When the voice returned a few minutes later I was no closer to freedom than I had been before, and now all that much closer to a humiliating discovery.  I stared down my body at my tiny dick as it grew to full attention, waving and mocking me.

 

“I called the Super,” the voice said.  “Just hold on.  He’ll be here in a minute.  Hello?”

 

I moaned.  I was doomed.

 

Within seconds I heard another voice in the hallway- a masculine voice with a Latino accent accompanying the sound of feet pounding on the tiled floor and the woman who was trying to help me-

 

“Here!” she shouted.

 

I heard something slam to the floor and a jangle of metal; keys on a ring as something scratched on the door.  “I need to find the right key,” I heard the other voice say, recognizing it.  It was indeed Felix, the Super.  I heard the first lock slide open.

 

“Hurry!” the woman shouted.  “He’s dying, I think.”

 

I heard something slam against the door and one of the screws in the Medeco lock popped free and bounced across the floor.  And another…

 

And another…

 

I heard a crash and the splintering of wood as the door slammed open, the frame cracking and giving way around the lock.  Felix flew into the room, staggering a bit to get his balance and looking about frantically as he slammed against the dresser.  He was older than I was; maybe fifty, and stereotypical Latino with dark skin and black wavy hair, sporting a mustache.  He was muscular and strapping, dressed in a white tee shirt and blue jeans wearing black work boots.  Right behind him I saw the short Asian woman that lived across the hall from me as she stepped into the shattered doorway.  She was younger than me I thought, a student at NYU maybe, with a nice, plump little body and long, black hair swirling about her shoulders as she stared first at Felix, then directed her dark, astonished gaze to me.  I saw her almond eyes grow wide with surprise, her mouth forming an ‘O’ before her hand went up to stifle her gasp of shock to see me bound and splayed spread eagle on the bed.  She staggered back against the jamb, her eyes raking my helplessness, broken only by her blinking.

 

“God…” she whispered, but before she could continue I heard Felix’ voice cut over her own whispers.

 

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, standing over me, staring down at me in confusion.  “What kind of sick game…”

 

“Kidnapped…” I said, hoping for the best.  Hoping they would believe me and free me before Shannon or Christine returned.  “Please!  Help me!  Set me free!”

 

“Kidnapped?” Felix echoed, glancing at the Asian woman.  She looked to him.

 

“He said he was sick,” she said, her voice a whispering breathless gasp.  “Said he had fallen.  He said no police!”

 

“Kidnapped?” Felix asked again, stepping closer and towering over me.  His eyes were dark and burning there in the queer morning light.  Neither had bothered to turn on a light.  Neither had made a move to free me either.

 

“Look at him,” the Asian woman finally said, stepping up beside the Super.  She pointed at the clamps on my nipples, leaning just a bit to press down on one.  “He wasn’t kidnapped,” she said as she poked the clamp on my right nipple, pressing down as I screamed and writhed at the pain.

 

“He did this to himself?” Felix asked, licking his lips as he watched the young woman torture me.  He made no move to stop her as I screamed and begged.

 

“No…” she said, easing off the clamp and trailing a sharp fingernail along my smooth, hairless chest, neck and up to my cheek.  “No, he couldn’t tie himself like this.  But he wasn’t kidnapped either.”  She grinned then, and I recognized a now familiar cruelty in her visage.  “You asked for this, didn’t you?” she said as her fingers drifted back to the clip on my nipple.  She squeezed and I screamed, jerking in my bonds.  “Someone did this to you.”

 

“Noooo…” I whined, wriggling at her torture.  Why weren’t they freeing me?

 

“I think so,” she said with a cruel smirk, turning to Felix and finally letting my nipple go.  “His name’s Carl.  He lives here.  A real ass.”

 

“You’re right,” Felix said as his eyes drifted along my body.  I saw the bulge in his blue jeans as he licked his lips.  This was turning him on.  “I recognize him now.  But why?”

 

“Because, he gets off on it,” a new voice said from the hall and we all turned to see who it was.

 

Shannon stood in the doorway dressed in running shorts and a sports bra in black, her blonde hair pulled back into a short tail.  She smiled widely as she looked into the room, her skin shining with perspiration as though she had just come from the gym or a run.  She stepped into the room, brushing past my Asian neighbor to the dresser.  She opened a drawer and pulled out a file as she turned back to us.

 

“Carl paid me a lot of money for this,” she said as she thumbed through the file folder and handed a few sheets of paper to Felix.  The Super stared at them, starting to read as did my neighbor.  “He pestered me for months, begging me to tie him up and make him into a slave, but I wouldn’t- at least until I learned the NY State Laws.  Apparently there’s a little known or used law still on the books from the 1700’s that allows someone to indenture themselves due to overwhelming financial difficulties.  Basically, and based on that law, Carl here signed his life over to me; his holdings, accounts, apartment, everything.  Check with the Co-op Felix.  You’ll find that his apartment’s been paid in full for the next year and two months, by him.  He threw himself into debt all for the pleasure of having me- and others- be his master.”

 

“No!”

 

Shannon leaned in and stuffed some cloth into my mouth to shut me up.  she grinned widely, knowing that I was screwed and then stood tall, looking to the others.

 

“He gets off on the humiliation, I think.  He loves to kneel down and lick the filth off my shoes.  He begs to be tied and whipped, and I think he loves it more when people see.  Look at his prick,” she said, pointing at my throbbing hard on.

 

“He’s… your servant?” Felix asked, staring between me and Shannon.

 

“My slave.” I heard the Asian woman snicker at Shannon’s words.

 

“That is so cool.”

 

“So he wants this?” Felix asked, handing the papers back to Shannon.  She nodded, putting them back into the folder and the folder back into the dresser.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Shannon said, sitting on the edge of the bed and running a smooth hand over my chest.  “He loves it- craves it.”  Shannon glanced up at Felix.  “It took me awhile to get into it, and him too.  But now he does whatever I say.  He’ll blow you if I told him to.”

 

Felix choked, staggering back, but I could see the sparkle in his dark eyes.  He was intrigued, as was my neighbor.  Her hand slipped down the front of her own jeans as she backed up against the doorjamb again.

 

“God…” she whispered, and Shannon laughed.

 

“He’ll do you, Kelly,” Shannon said, “if you want.  You too,” she said looking to Felix.  “Or do all your work around here.  Just let me know.  He wants it.”

 

“I- I don’t…”

 

“Well, I do,” Kelly said as she stepped closer.  “I’d love to have some guy waiting on me hand and foot.  And Carl here’s a prick, so all the better.”

 

“Hah!” Shannon laughed as she stood.  “That’s the idea.” She turned to Felix.  “What about you?”

 

Felix looked down on me, and I could tell that he was wrestling with the notion.  I tried my best to look helpless and put upon.  Not a far stretch.

 

“I’d love some help around here,” he finally said, his eyes turning to meet Shannon’s.  “I’m so busy with repairs.  I need help with the cleaning.”

 

“Done,” Shannon said with a smile, extending her hand to shake and seal the deal.  I was done I knew as Felix shook her hand.  “I’ll put him to work cleaning from top to bottom,” she added.  Felix smiled.

 

“I look forward to it,” he said, giving me a final glance as he moved to the door, picking up his tool kit as he stepped into the hall.

 

“I’ll call, and you can let me know where you want our ‘maid’ to start.”  Felix chuckled.

 

“Good,” he said, and he was gone.  Shannon turned to our neighbor.

 

“What about you?”

 

Kelly stared at me, biting her lip.  She looked excited at the prospect of having a slave.  My eyes welled with tears as she grinned.

 

“Oh yeah,” she snickered, her fingers dancing across the smooth skin of my chest.  “This’ll be fun.”

 

Shannon laughed, walking Kelly across the hall.  I heard my neighbor’s door slam, and it was several minutes before Shannon returned.  She shut the door behind her, though one of the locks was busted.

 

“Bitch!” she said as she leaned in and removed the clamps on my nipples.  I felt the blood rushing back and screamed with the new pain that twisted and coursed through my body.  Shannon just laughed.

 

“Did you think you’d get away?  Not likely.  You made your bed here ass hole.  Nobody likes you, or even cares.  Everyone in this building is more than willing to make you suffer.”  Shannon planted a knee in my groin as she straddled my body, sitting on my chest.  She shifted, sitting as she sidled forwards, her pussy inching closer.  “Nobody cares.  You’re ours, bitch.”

 

Shannon settled on my face, easing back and watching as I stared up at her.  She smirked, plucking the cloth from my mouth.

 

“Gimme some lovin’,” she said.  “Lick!”

 

I did.  What else could I do?

 

ELEVEN

 

 

 

Things got worse…

 

I serviced Shannon as she wanted, but there was no pleasure in it for me.  I brought her to three orgasms before she was satisfied and finally crawled off of my face, allowing me to breathe.  She smiled down at me as she adjusted her shorts, running a hand back through her sweaty hair.

 

“That was good, bitch.  I liked it.  You definitely have a tongue made for licking,” she said with a laugh.  I stared up at her as she bent down and affixed my mouth with a gag again; a ball-gag this time, which she buckled way too tightly behind my head.  My jaws were stretched and it hurt, but strapped to the bed frame there was nothing that I could do but moan my discomfort.  I wondered where she had got that, my new gag.

 

Shannon left me for a bit, and I could hear her next door as I squirmed in my bondage, hopelessly trying to free myself.  I don’t know just how long that she was gone, but she looked refreshed and clean when she returned.  She gave me a smile, then otherwise ignored me as she went back to the task of going through my things and making me disappear.

 

She sat right on the edge of the bed.  I could feel her warmth, the softness of her ass as she shifted about, doing her work.  I was in agony to be so close, and my penis was raging from lack of release but she paid me no mind for what seemed hours as she dug through my things.  I watched as the sky outside the window darkened, listening to the blare of her Walkman as she hummed and cooed, tossing my life into black trash bags over the course of hours.  Finally she yawned and stretched, and somehow I knew that her task was finally complete.

 

Shannon stood and I saw that the clock read almost eleven at night.  She had been at her task for most of the day and I could see that she was tired as I stared up at her, hoping for some kind of release.  For her part, Shannon simply leaned in and checked my bindings again, then left with a simple ‘good night’, closing the door behind her…

 

***

 

I woke the next morning feeling as though I had not slept a wink.  The night had passed swiftly, as I had closed my eyes one second and opened them again to the sounds of someone heaving on my door.  I craned my neck, looking up as Shannon stepped inside my- her room and once again eased the door closed.

 

“Good morning,” Shannon said as she smiled down on me.  She had an over-sized gym bag over her shoulder, which she let fall to the floor with a thump.  Her expression was mischievous as she looked me over, eyeing my bindings to see if I had made any headway over night to get away.  I was just as securely bound to the bedframe as when she had left me however, and seeing that made her grin all the wider.

 

“Hope you’re ready to do some work,” she said as she sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over my chest.  “I’m sure that Felix is waiting with a long list of chores to keep you busy, so we better get you going, hunh?”

 

She seemed happy, almost playful as she reached up over me and undid the bindings of my right wrist over my head.  I could feel the bonds loosening, felt the blood rushing back into my hand as I started to wiggle my fingers and flex my wrist.  She smiled down on me, watching, but then stopped before she had me free and grabbed a fist about my leather collar.  She drew me up as far as she could, leaning into my face.  She eyed me critically.  “You gonna be trouble?” she hissed and I shook my head no.  I was beaten; she knew it as well as I did.  There was no way that I could escape now.  I could not overpower her in my beaten, weakened, broken state as she was way too strong.  If I wanted to escape, it would have to come later.

 

“Okay,” she said, releasing my collar and letting my head fall back on the metal frame.  “I’m gonna untie you so you can get dressed.  Give me any grief and I promise I WILL beat the crap out of you.”  I nodded my compliance and her smile returned as she reached up again and undid the bonds at my hands.  I had to close my eyes as she reached across me and my bound helplessness.  I could feel the tickle of her breasts as she leaned in.  I could smell her scent, whether perfume or shampoo, body wash I did not know.  With her touch and smell, her attitude, she was driving me crazy.

 

Shannon actually helped me to sit up and allowed me a bit of time to rub some feeling into my wrists and hands again before she produced a pair of actual, metal handcuffs.  I stared at them as she dangled them before my face, jangling them and laughing to see my eyes grow wide over my gag.

 

“Mmmph…” I moaned, looking up into her cruel, grinning face.  She leaned in and grabbed my right wrist, slamming the metal cuff on so that it spun and ratcheted tightly.

 

“You have work to do today, Carla,” she said as she held the other cuff and dragged me to my feet.  I stood there at her direction as she dug into her bag of tricks, pulling out first my gray uniform, then my shoes and apron.  “Get dressed.”

 

Shannon released her grip on the cuff, letting it dangle from my wrist and sitting on the bed frame to watch as I complied.  It took just a moment to slip the uniform over my head and tie the apron on after zipping the dress up in the back.  She let me sit next to her then as I donned the shoes, rubbing her hand over my back.  Once my shoes were buckled she stood and hefted me to my feet roughly by my elbow.  She grabbed my other wrist and pulled my arms behind my back, leaning close as she closed the other cuff about my free wrist.

 

“There’s two keys, Carla,” she hissed in my ear, her breath warm on my neck and making me tingle.  “I have one.  Guess who has the other.”

 

“Iff-eennn?” I asked around my gag and she snickered.

 

“That’s right.  Christine.”  Shannon ran her hands through my long hair, fluffing it a bit and feathering it about my shoulders before bending and reaching into her big bag again.  When she looked up with a smile, I saw my golden panties again.  She held them out before my feet and ordered me to step into them, then drew them up my legs and hefted them into place about my ass and penis.  Finished, she patted my balls.

 

“Let’s go,” she ordered as she took the lead to my leash and stepped past me to the door.  “Felix is waiting.”

 

Shannon dragged me into the thankfully empty hall, leaving her bag and locking the lock on my door that still worked.  Without a word then she dragged me to the elevator and pushed the button.  As we walked I glanced at her sexy legs and ass and quickly noted that she had a taser clipped to her shorts just like Christine’s.  Maybe it was the same one, but with all my money to burn I imagine that they had splurged and bought a couple.

 

When the elevator arrived Shannon opened the door and shoved me in, pushing the button for the First Floor before leaning against the wall for the long ride down.  She stared at me with a sexy, evil grin as I stood there trembling.  Up until then Christine had kept me mostly out of sight, but if Shannon was taking me to the main floor then I knew I would be on display not only for everyone in the building, but whoever passed by on the street.  I closed my eyes and moaned helplessly into my gag.

 

The doors rumbled open and Shannon pulled me out of the car and into the lobby.  I stumbled a bit, finally forced to open my eyes and look around.  I quickly flushed red with a new wave of humiliation.

 

The lobby itself was fairly big with a black and gold tiled floor and gray walls streaked with gold filigree.  There were eight apartments on the main floor, four to the left and four to the right.  Too, the staircases let out on opposite sides of the elevator in the far corners.  There was a small alcove behind the left case, and the outer stairs behind the one on the right that led to the courtyard.  Directly in front of the elevator was the main door set in a wide window with many-paned flanks.  That led into a small foyer where the bells and buzzers to the apartments were located.  Beyond that outer door, down a couple steps was a small open area that led to the sidewalk- and freedom, at least for everyone but me.  Flanking the inner door were banks of mailboxes and a small shelf.  There were a couple potted trees on either side of the elevator as well, and a standing ashtray loaded with sand and cigarette butts as it was bad manners to smoke in the elevator.  There was one other thing as well.

 

Just to the right of the elevator was a small desk and chair where the Doorman sat.  I called him a Doorman, though I had never actually seen him hold the door, at least not for me, which was why I stiffed him last Christmas.  He was more of a Concierge I suppose, as he took in packages and held keys, things like that.  More for show and security I imagined.  It being Sunday, I was surprised to see him on duty.

 

His name was Jack and was an older man of about fifty I imagined.  He was white, with graying brown hair and a beer belly that strained at his white shirt and buttons.  I looked over at him and saw that he was chatting with Felix, who was again decked out in his work clothes.  Whatever they were discussing, the conversation cut off when both older men looked me up and down.  Felix chuckled, and after a moment I saw Jack grin widely.

 

“Hah,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair with his fingers laced across his belly.  “You weren’t kiddin’.  He does look like a girl.”

 

“I told you,” Felix said with a smirk, then nodding at Shannon in greeting.  She stepped up before the desk with me in tow, making me stand at attention as she leaned on the edge.

 

“You explained things to Jack?” she asked Felix and the Super nodded.

 

“Yeah, he did,” Jack said, smirking.  “I’ll make sure she stays in line.  No worries.”  Jack chuckled and pulled a cigarette from his blue jacket, lit it.

 

“Good,” Shannon said as she laid the end of my leash on the desktop and stood.  She fished into a tiny pocket in her shorts then and produced a small safety pin that had two keys attached, setting them on the desk as well.  “Just in case,” she said, and I wondered ‘in case’ of what.  Jack snatched up the keys and dropped them into one of the drawers in the desk.  I assumed that they were the keys to my cuffs and collar.

 

“You’ll be cleaning the lobby today,” Felix said as he snatched the handle of my leash and drug me towards the stairs to the right of the elevator.  He pulled me down the few steps leading towards the outer door and I thought that he was taking me outside, but instead jerked me into the small space beneath the stairs.  I saw waiting a large bucket of hot soapy water and a scrub brush.

 

“Bring those,” he ordered, and I bent picking up the brush and then the heavy bucket.  I followed Felix back up the steps with the bucket dangling from my chained hands, the hot water slopping and sloshing with every step.  I set it down beside the desk at last, looking at the three and awaiting my orders.

 

“Start with the floor,” Felix commanded, letting my leash dangle.  I looked to Shannon, but she simply grinned and reached out to unhook the leash from my collar.

 

She took the loop at the handle then, holding it to the chain between my cuffs and looped the lead back through before fastening the clasp at my throat again.  It was not a big difference, but I knew that I was a bit more confined now, and my work would be all the harder.

 

“Down,” she said, and all three watched as I dropped slowly to my knees.  I looked up a final time, but they were all watching, almost leering until finally Shannon snapped her fingers and gestured for me to get to work.  I dipped the scrub brush in the water, and without a complaint, bent to my task.

 

They watched me in silence for a moment, making certain that I was doing a good and proper job I supposed.  I guess I was- with all the recent practice I should have been- because after a minute or so Shannon stepped around my kneeling form and headed back towards the elevator.

 

“I’m out,” she said, opening the door.  “I have some things to do, and it IS Sunday so I’d like to relax a bit.  Call if there’s a problem, Jack.”

 

“I will,” he said, blowing smoke.  I could feel his eyes boring into me though, into my ass actually as my back was to him.  Shannon shut the door and a second later the elevator rumbled to life.

 

“I’m leaving too,” Felix said.  “Still some work on the boiler yet.  I’ll be right downstairs though.”  I heard the amusement still in Felix’ voice as he walked away towards the outer stairs.  I could hear the elevator too, grinding to a halt, then rumbling again.  I glanced back to see jack’s finger on the button, calling it down to the lobby once more.

 

“Something?” he asked nastily after the outer door closed and Felix was gone.  I shook my head, suddenly worried and doubled over to my task again.  After the elevator ground to a halt again there was silence for a time, save for the sound of my brush scrubbing the floor tiles.

 

Then I heard Jack light up another cigarette and I jumped.  He chuckled, flipping the spent, smoldering match right into my work.  I stopped and picked it up, slipped it into my apron pocket.  He laughed…

 

“This is gonna be fun.”

 

***

 

I was not even ten minutes into my task when the elevator started up into the building again.  I had turned about on my hands and knees so as not to give Jack a view of my swaying ass, and I looked up to see him grinning.  He was watching me intently, his dark eyes sparkling with lust.  He had another cigarette in his right hand, but his left was out of sight, behind the desk and I imagined busy.  I could see that his legs were splayed wide, his dirty, worn black loafers spread far and wide under the desk.

 

We both looked up as the elevator door opened and I blushed to see the older woman with the German Shepherd come striding out.  The dog jumped and barked happily, and ran right up to me with its nails clacking on the tiles.  He was not even leashed like I was.

 

“Hey, Anne,” Jack said as the woman stepped up in front of the desk smiling and laughing as her dog danced about me, sniffing.

 

“Hi, Jack,” the older woman said, and I looked up again as Bluto’s nose pushed at the hem of my skirt.  The woman was dressed in shorts and sandals, a tight tee shirt barely holding her breasts in check.  Her hair was cut short, almost pageboy style and her gray eyes watched me with interest and amusement from behind the dusky lenses of her glasses.  “What’s up with this?” she asked, leaning on the edge of the desk as her dog nosed deeper between my legs.

 

“This little bitch is a panty thief, Anne.  Seems he’s a pervert that likes this shit.  Signed his life over ta Shannon on Six, the blonde?”

 

“Yeah, I know her,” Anne nodded, smiling.  “I saw this thing down in the basement the other day.  Likes to clean, hunh?”

 

“I dunno about that, but she gets off on the slave thing, Shannon said.  He’s workin’ for Felix today, an’ I’m in charge.”

 

“Lucky you,” Anne laughed.  “Bluto sure likes him… her…”

 

“I see that,” Jack agreed.  “She is a bitch.  Maybe that’s why.”

 

They both laughed as Anne finally stepped up and grabbed her dog by the collar, pulling him back.  He had been licking me again, whining to get through my panties.

 

“Bluto needs to tinkle,” Anne said with a giggle, looking down at me.  I was breathing hard through my nose, looking at her feet and wishing she would take her dog and go.  I could see the beast’s erection, throbbing and slipping out of its sheathe again.

 

“So,” Jack said nonchalantly.  “Go ahead an’ let him.”

 

“What?” Anne asked as she clipped the dog’s leash to his spiked, leather collar.  “Right here in the lobby?”

 

“Naw,” Jack said and I heard his chair slide back.  “Right there in the toilet.”

 

Jack stepped around the desk and stood over me.  He shoved my head down and I felt his fingers at the buckle holding the ball-gag strapped in place.  My eyes grew wide as he undid the clasp and I shivered in fear, suspecting what was to come.

 

“Oh, Jack,” Anne said breathlessly.  “I couldn’t…” she whispered, but somehow I knew that she could, push come to shove.  Jack popped the ball from my mouth and I moaned, licking my lips.

 

“Please…” I whined, and fell to the floor as Jack shoved me down.  He kicked me then, ordering me to roll over.

 

“C’mon, bitch!” he snapped, the toe of his shoe ramming me in the ribs until I was in the desired position.  I looked up as he towered over me, the woman Anne at his side biting her lip in anticipation.  The dog was sniffing about me.

 

Jack helped Anne and together they eased the big Shepherd to straddle me.  Its huge, red penis was hovering over my face as the two held the dog tight.  The dog’s dick was dripping precum, and it was whining in heat.

 

“Take it, cunt!” Jack yelled, and suddenly his hand was at my collar again, lifting my head.  I eased up and the dog’s pulsing prick pushed at my lips.  “Take it!”

 

I opened my mouth, tears welling in my eyes as the dog’s huge dick slid between my lips.  It was hot and throbbing with excitement, and bigger than mine I noted.  Bigger even that the other that I had sucked only a couple days before.

 

“Suck it!” Jack commanded, his hand flexing about my collar, getting a grip.  I felt Anne’s hand then too, heard her breathless giggle as she cradled the back of my head to hold me up and in place.  Bluto’s dick slid easily in my mouth as she pressed me close.  I could feel it scratching the back of my throat as I started to suck and lick.

 

I heard the dog’s whimper as he exploded, quickly.  Hot jism shot down my throat, causing me to gag, but I kept on sucking, fearing a beating or worse if I stopped.  Bluto shot and shot, a seemingly unending stream and I swallowed it all, his penis was lodged so deeply down my throat.  There was some back up, but I managed to get it down as I gagged and swallowed…

 

Then the dog started to piss…

 

I sputtered, hacking and coughing as the hot stream of urine bubbled out of my mouth.  It ran down my cheeks and into my hair despite my best efforts to take it all in.  Too, I was gagging and could barely breathe as it trickled down my windpipe.  I was frantic, snuffling tears and snot and pee, but Anne and Jack just laughed and continued to hold me in place until the dog finally whimpered and sagged.  I felt the dick shrivel eventually, and finally withdraw from my throat, settling hotly in my mouth.

 

“Clean him up,” Anne hissed, still holding my head in place.  I started to lick again, my tongue swirling all about the Shepherd’s cock and balls, sucking it all clean.  Finally they let me go.

 

My head thumped back onto the floor as Anne pulled her dog from over me.  Bluto pranced and sniffed, barking a bit as I moaned, licking my lips.  My head was resting in a puddle of dog urine I could feel, and when I finally opened my eyes again I saw Jack and Anne still towering over me and grinning.  Anne’s foot was hovering over my face, the sole of her sandal wet and dripping.

 

“Lick that up,” she ordered, and even as she pressed the gritty wet sole of her sandal to my lips I had stuck out my tongue to meet it.  She laughed as I licked the sole of her shoe, debased utterly, humiliated to the bone.  I had sucked her dog to orgasm and then swallowed most of its piss.  Now I was licking the overflow from the bottom of her sandal while she laughed and the dog merrily danced about the lobby.  And of course, that wasn’t the end of it.

 

As soon as Anne was satisfied and took her foot away, Jack was pressing the wet sole of his loafer to my face.  “Lick!” he commanded, and I did.  It was just as bad, if not worse, but even so I could feel my own erection growing and throbbing, pressing into my panties.  It did not seem to matter; man or woman… or dog, the humiliation made me hot.

 

Jack held his foot to my face for awhile, his leg cocked and pressing down as I licked for all that I was worth.  I could see Anne still standing over me as well, grinning widely at my debasement, and worse, the dog kept coming around sniffing and licking my face.  I was almost on the verge of crying when Jack finally stepped off.  The two simply grinned down at me in satisfaction before I felt Jack thumping me in the ribs, telling me to roll over.  After I was in position he ordered me to start licking up whatever remained of the mess on the floor.

 

I was dragging my tongue across the floor tiles when Anne finally reined in her dog again and headed for the front door.  “Bluto still needs a walk,” she said, the dog yipping at his name.  “If he doesn’t need to go again, then maybe he’ll have another present for you Carla, when we get back.”  I hung my head as she and Jack laughed and Anne finally led the dog outside.

 

Jack had no sooner settled on the edge of the desk and struck another cigarette to life when the door opened again.  I glanced up, my face filthy now, licking my lips as I saw another woman and her young son stepping over the threshold.

 

I recognized the woman.  I had seen her before, figured that she was another neighbor that I had offended at some point in some way.  She was attractive, though plump, with kinky blonde hair and glasses.  She was in shorts and a tank top, thongs on her feet as she stepped in and held the door for her son who was dragging a scooter up the steps.  Both were staring at me in shock.

 

“Hi, Dale,” Jack said, blowing smoke and not batting an eye.

 

“Jack…” the woman gasped as her son was in, the door slamming shut behind and causing her to start with a yelp.  Her eyes were huge, her mouth hanging open as her son scooted right up and zipped past my head.  “Shawn,” she said, holding out her hand and I watched as the boy whipped about on his scooter and went to her side, watching me.  His shock was fading quickly, and I could see a smile as he looked me over.

 

“Jack,” the woman gasped again, stepping closer but giving me room.  “What… What is this?  Who is this girl?  Why is she…” Jack waved her off with a chuckle.

 

“Easy, Dale,” he said.  “It’s all legit.  First off, she is a he.  His name’s Carl, from 6-M…”

 

I listened as Jack told the lies of my story again and Dale just stood there soaking it up.  I could not believe that there was no one in the entire building that did not find it wrong that I was being treated as a slave.  Everyone that saw me just seemed to accept it, and Dale was no exception.  By the time Jack was done with his twisted tale, the woman was simply standing there and watching as I licked at the floor tiles.  She was standing right in front of me, and I could see her pink, painted toenails sparkling as she twitched her feet.

 

“God…” she whispered breathlessly, and I could hear the catch in her voice.  She sounded excited by the prospect of me, dressed as a maid and slaving for the building.  She was about to say more.  I’m sure she was bursting with questions, but I heard her son whine first, cutting her off-

 

“C’mon, Mom…” he moaned, scooting to the elevator.  “I gotta go.”

 

My eyes went wide, but to my surprise Jack did not offer the ‘toilet’ again.  I guess bestiality was the final line for him.

 

“All right, all right,” Dale said as she finally padded to the elevator and held the door for her son.  I heard the boy drag his scooter into the car.

 

“He’ll be here for most of the day, Dale,” Jack said, settling against the desk again.  “C’mon back down later, if you like.”  I heard Dale giggle.

 

“Maybe I will.  Bye Jack.”

 

The door shut, and a second later the elevator groaned and started up.  I felt Jack’s foot jabbing me in the ass.

 

“Back ta scrubbin’ bitch,” he commanded, dropping his cigarette to the floor and stepping back to his chair behind the desk.  I picked up the smoldering butt and dipped it into the bucket before slipping it into my apron pocket with the others.  I sighed and settled in on my knees, soaking the scrub brush again before resuming my chore; thankful at least that Jack had forgotten to replace my gag.

 

***

 

Scrubbing the floor was no easy task, shackled as I was.  I couldn’t reach too far, and I had to balance on the brush with both hands at once with every stroke.  Too, I would have to crawl back to the bucket often and drag it along behind me on my aching knees.  Even worse was the steady flow of traffic passing through the lobby.

 

It was Sunday, so it seemed everyone was home and everyone was heading in and out, enjoying the weather.  It was cooler than the first couple days of my captivity, but I was still sweating from my toils.  There were wet stains under my arms and along my chest, and my hair was soon wringing wet.  Everyone who passed however appeared happy and content, refreshed in the cooler, less humid weather and dressed in summer shorts and light clothes.

 

After about twenty minutes already two women and a couple had passed through the lobby and outside.  They all said good morning to Jack, but none of them stayed long, giving me a curious glance in passing, laughing and whispering on their way out the door.  Soon after Anne returned from her walk with Bluto.  She stayed for a few minutes and chatted with Jack some more, watching me work and obviously in no hurry.  She was enjoying it all, and of course she let the dog jump around me and sniff to its heart’s content.  Not long after Anne departed I heard a familiar laugh coming from the stairwell behind me.

 

I glanced back through my matted, stringy hair and saw Patricia - Laura’s daughter hurrying down the stairs and into the lobby.  Worse, as she had promised, she had two friends along with her.  They were all chatting and laughing and dressed in loose athletic shorts and half-tee shirts over sports bras, knee socks and shin guards gathered over their black leather, rubber-cleated soccer shoes.  They were all about the same age, and I saw that they were obviously on their way out to practice as one of the new girls had a soccer ball in hand.

 

They happily clattered down the stairs and into the lobby, finally drawing up when one of the three gasped as she saw me there on my knees.  There was a bit of silence until Pat finally burst out laughing and strolled right up in front of me to block my work with her friends in tow.  The other two flanked Pat, and I sighed staring at their feet shifting there in front of me, finally easing back on my heels to look up at them.

 

Pat’s two friends were pretty for the most part.  Both were white and in decent shape- better than Pat in fact.  The one to my left was the shortest of the three with a pleasantly grinning face and short light brown hair.  The other was taller than Pat and blonde, her skin a dark bronze from tanning by the look.  She was staring down in confusion with huge blue eyes that turned first to Pat, and then to Jack whom I saw was grinning lustfully like an idiot.

 

“Hey, girls…” he said, leaning forward in his seat to watch what was probably about to happen.  The three glanced his way and all smiled.

 

“Hiya, Jack,” Patricia said, putting her hands on her hips and returning her attention quickly to me.  “I see ya got the bitch workin’, hunh?”

 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, and I heard him light up another cigarette.  “She’s working for the building now.  Doin’ a damn good job too.”

 

Pat laughed, sliding her foot back and forth in front of me and streaking the floor that I had just been scrubbing.  With a quick flick of her toe she kicked my brush out of her way and well out of my reach.  “This is the bitch I was tellin’ y’all about,” she said glancing between her two friends.  “The little foot slave fag…”

 

“Wow…” I heard the blonde gasp.  I looked up to see her licking her lips as she took me in, exactly what was going on finally settling into her head.  Maybe she was just realizing that I was a man, but whatever, the initial confusion was passing.  I saw the hint of a smile starting to form.  “I thought you were just shittin’ us, Pat.  It’s really a guy?”

 

“Yeah,” Pat smirked.  “She’s a he… a fag hag!”  They all giggled.  “Tell my friends yer a guy, bitch!” Pat ordered, thumping me in the knee with the reinforced toe of her shoe.  I hung my head and nodded.

 

“I’m a guy… ” I said feeling my skin flush and heat.

 

“An’ what’s yer name?”

 

“I’m called Carla now, ma’am…”

 

“Ma’am?” I heard the brunette laugh at that, snapping gum in her mouth.  “Sure is respectful.”  I saw her feet shift again and noticed her spinning the soccer ball on her finger.

 

“Yeah,” Pat agreed.  “She’s gotta be or we get to beat her ass, right bitch?”

 

“Yes, ma’am…”

 

“Really?” the blonde gasped again.  “He lets you beat him?”

 

“What’s she gonna do?” Pat snorted, reaching down and grabbing the chain between my cuffs and yanking my hands up for her friends to see.  “She likes it, see?  Don’t ‘cha bitch?”  Pat’s open hand slammed against my face, spinning it sideways with the quick, sharp slap.  It hurt, and I felt tears well immediately.  I nodded.

 

“Yes… ma’am…”

 

“Hah!” the brunette said.  “He’s cryin’!”  The three girls laughed at that, and I heard Jack snickering as well in the background.  Pat released her grip on my cuffs then and pointed to the floor at her feet.

 

“Bow back down there, bitch!” she commanded and I did, lowering my head before her almost to the floor.  “Watch this,” she then said to her friends.

 

“Kiss my shoes!”

 

I leaned in without hesitation and puckered my lips, pressing them to the soft, worn leather of her shoes.  Her feet smelled clean, but the soccer shoes were old and well worn in and smelled of old leather and her sweat.  Still, it was not so bad and I could feel my penis getting hard as I kissed the girl’s feet.

 

From the corner of my eyes I could see her friends shifting about anxiously.  I could only imagine that the brunette would have no problem getting some like attention, and before too long the other girl would probably be convinced to join in as well.  Pat thumped me in the nose, probably sensing my wandering eyes and slid her foot back out of reach.

 

“What, bitch?  You like my friends better ’n me?”

 

“No, ma’am… ” I said humbly, fearing another slap coming.

 

“Maybe she’s a racist?” the brunette said and I felt the soccer ball bounce off my down-turned head causing everyone but me to laugh.  She bounced it again, and again, goading me all the while.  “That it, girl?  You like white meat best, hunh?”

 

THUMP

 

THUMP…

 

“She don’t care,” Jack added in.  “Color don’t matter.  Hell, she likes dog meat too.”

 

I heard the blonde gasp again, and all three girls went dead silent.

 

“What?” I heard Pat finally break the calm.  “What d’you mean, ‘dog meat’?”

 

I heard Jack chuckle before quickly going into the nasty tale of what had happened not so long ago with Anne and Bluto.  The girls were quiet and breathless throughout, but the brunette was slowly inching closer since Pat had stepped away.  Her foot was almost fully under my face.

 

“That’s sick!”  I heard the blonde almost gagging as she spat out her disapproval.  She was apparently not as worldly as Pat or her short friend, as they were both ecstatic.

 

“Aw, grow up, Julie,” Pat laughed.  “I would’a loved ta seen that.”

 

“Me too,” the other said, cocking her foot back on her heel so that the toe of her shoe rubbed at my lips.  I could smell her shoe as well, a bit of foot odor slightly hidden by powder or perfume.  “Will he do me?”

 

“She better!” I heard Pat’s defiant tone, daring me to refuse.  I’m certain that she would have loved me to say no.

 

“Kiss my foot!” the brunette said, and I did pressing kisses on first the toe of her shoe, then the sides and top as she lowered her foot flat on the floor again.  I heard her slight moan of approval as I lavished her foot, licking after a bit, trying to make her happy so that the new humiliation would end all the quicker.

 

“Mmmmn… Her tongue’s hot.  I can feel it right through the shoe.”

 

“Told ya, ‘Shell.  Thought I was lyin’?”

 

“Well… it DID sound weird.”  The two girls were laughing at that when the third- Julie broke in.

 

“C’mon, guys.  We’re gonna be late.”

 

“All right,” Pat agreed though she sounded disappointed that they apparently had to leave.  “Kiss Michelle good bye, bitch,” Pat ordered and I did.  As soon as the brunette’s foot stepped away, Pat’s shot in under my face.  “Now me.”

 

Patricia stepped away and there was a silence again for a moment.  “Jules?  Your turn.”

 

“No!” the blonde said.  “That’s… disgusting.  No…” I could hear the hesitation in her voice however, and noticed that she had not moved towards the door yet.

 

“C’mon, chicken,” Pat giggled, egging her friend on.  “He don’t bite.  An’ if he does we’ll beat his ass.”

 

“No…”

 

“It’s okay,” I heard Jack interject, at the same time that Michelle said, “C’mon…”

 

“Oh… All right, all right!”

 

Julie tentatively slid her foot into place under my face.  Her shoe looked almost brand new I saw, and her scent was the sweetest of the three.  I could see her toes fidgeting under the soft leather as she screwed her courage up.

 

“Kiss,” she finally said, almost whispering as though she didn’t want anyone to hear.  I leaned in and gave her the biggest kiss of the three, making sure that she felt it.  Was I thanking her for holding out as long as she had, or was she the favorite of the three?  I don’t know, but she gasped and quickly pulled her foot back before she started for the door.  Her two friends laughed, following.

 

“Later bitch!” Pat called in leaving, and I heard Michelle too.

 

“Bye, Carla!”

 

I could hear them chattering and laughing, Pat and Michelle teasing their friend as they stomped outside and out of ear shot.  I heard Jack laughing as well, but after a few moments I felt his cigarette butt bounce off my ass.

 

“Back to work, ‘bitch’!”

 

I sighed and picked up his spent butt, putting it out and adding it to the growing number in my apron pocket before crawling to retrieve my scrub brush from where Pat had kicked it.  I crawled back to where I had left off before the scene, and got back to work as ordered.

 

***

 

And so it went throughout the morning.  It got warmer as it approached noon, and I was soon doing extra work as I had to mop up my own sweat, which was dripping to the floor beneath me.  It was hard work, but really the lobby floor was not too dirty as before I came along the Super or his son usually mopped it at least once a week.  It was mainly the three paths; two stairs and elevator to the door, and around the mail boxes that needed the most elbow grease.

 

And of course the flow of traffic increased as my neighbors got up and out of bed and finally outside.  Everyone that passed gave a curious look.  Some smiled to see me there on my knees, scrubbing the floors.  Many laughed and a few actually addressed me with some snide or stupid joke, usually.  I heard ‘Does she do windows’ twice, and more often a comment on how they could use a maid.

 

One woman came to the foyer and buzzed upstairs before entering the lobby proper.  I glanced up but did not recognize her and assumed she was a guest of someone.  She was pretty, about my age I figured with full brown hair loose about her shoulders and a tight figure.  She was wearing a light skirt in black that fell just above her knees, a revealing red camisole with spaghetti straps and brown cowboy boots.  She looked at me curiously as she strolled past, her red lips curling into a smirk probably at noticing my handcuffs and collar.

 

“Hi,” she said to Jack, striking a pose and turning slightly to keep me in view.  She folded her arms beneath her breasts and licked her lips I saw before turning away as Jack pointed me back to task.

 

“I’m waiting for Jim… 6D?”

 

“No problem,” Jack said, and they both settled in to watch me work.  Apparently I was good entertainment.  I tried to keep my head down and to my chores, but I could hear the woman tapping her foot and I could not help stealing glances of her sexy legs and boots.  I could feel my cock stirring again and had not even noticed the elevator’s noises until the door swung open.

 

“Hey, babe,” I heard a familiar voice and glanced over to see another pair of cowboy boots.  I quickly shriveled, knowing just who it was.  “Hah!” I heard his harsh laugh as he quickly clomped over to me.

 

“Hey, bitch,” he said, standing over me.  His girl friend quickly stepped up at his side as I stared at their feet, unable to continue my scrubbing.  “Long time no see.”

 

The man laughed again, and a second later I felt his boot on the back of my head as he easily forced my head to the floor.  I moaned as he held me down and heard his friend’s boots shift about as she gasped.

 

“Jim!  What are you doing?  You know this… girl?”

 

“We’ve met,” Jim said with a chuckle as he ground down on my head.  “Miss me, bitch?  Still got my present?”

 

“No, sir…” I moaned into the floor as he laughed.  He did not seem too concerned that I did not have the panties he had ordered me to suck clean.  Too, I imagine that his little secret WAS a secret, especially from his girlfriend.

 

“What present?” she asked dubiously and he stopped pressing, realizing that he had probably said too much.  He quickly recovered though.

 

“Nothin’ much, Jilly,” he said, finally taking his foot off of my head.  I took a deep breath as he continued, “I met our little maid here a couple days ago an’ gave her a pair of my underpants to clean.”

 

“Jim!  You didn’t?”

 

“I was gonna toss ‘em anyway.  ‘Sides, she likes things like that, don’t ya, bitch?” he asked, thumping my head with the sharp toe of his boot.

 

“Yes, sir…” I said and they all laughed at me.

 

“He likes it rough,” Jack added, as Jim continued tapping my head.  Finally I lifted my head and he slid his boot under my face.

 

“He likes this too,” Jim said as I kissed his boot without prompting.

 

“Ooo… “ the woman- Jill cooed.  “Kinky.” And she slid her own boot right in next to Jim’s.  I shifted my head to kiss hers, then commenced back and forth.  They all laughed as I debased myself again, but finally Jill pulled her boyfriend away and towards the door.  “C’mon, lover.  Movie!  We can have some fun with the ‘maid’ later.”

 

“Yeah,” Jim agreed, falling into step with his date.  “She ain’t goin’ nowhere.  Right, Jackie?”

 

“No time soon anyway, Jimmy,” Jack agreed, adding his good bye to theirs as they headed out the door.

 

I watched as they walked arm in arm around the corner, then bent to my work again but Jack oddly told me to stop.

 

“Lunch break, bitch,” he said as he slid back in his chair and took out a bag and thermos from one of the desk drawers.  Setting them on the desktop he opened the bag and started laying out his lunch.  “C’mere,” he said and I crawled closer, probably foolishly thinking that he was going to give me something to eat or at least drink.  I was partially right.

 

“Get in under there,” he ordered, pointing to the tight space where his legs would normally go under the desk.  I stared up at him with wide pleading eyes.

 

“No… Please… “ I whined, and he slapped my face.  I yelped and started to cry again.

 

“Not gonna tell ya twice, bitch!”

 

I whimpered but did as I was told, crawling under the desk and shifting about into the position that he wanted, kneeling and facing him.  I looked up pathetically as he scooted his chair forward, locking his legs to either side of me with his crotch right in my face.

 

“Undo the zipper, cunt,” he ordered, watching me as he continued to set out his lunch.  I reached up and slid his fly open, seeing the bulge within his pants; white with a damp stain of pale yellow.  “Take it out,” he continued and I heard him pouring something from his thermos into the plastic cup/lid.

 

Gingerly, not wishing to be hit or kicked if I fucked up I reached forward and into his white briefs.  I felt his huge penis within and gently exposed it, easing out almost eight inches of thick meat.  I stared at his dripping penis, ashamed that my own cock was stiffening again.

 

“C’mon,” he said around a mouthful of sandwich.  “You know what ta do.”

 

I sniffed, whimpering as I leaned in closer and opened my mouth.  I took his penis in, curving my lips to stroke the sides as I pressed my face all the way to his groin.  I started licking and sucking as I rocked up and back, bobbing along his shaft as he continued to eat.

 

He had apparently been on edge all morning as his cock quickly swelled and burst.  I gagged as his hot jism slammed the back of my throat, quickly swallowing as I knew by now not to miss a drop.  He had a massive load that seemed to just keep coming as I continued to coax his orgasm.  I hoped that a good job on my part might earn me reward, or at least a little rest, but that was not to be the case.

 

Jack moaned a little and sighed as he was finally drained and after a quick gasp of breath on my part I started to lick again to clean off his now limp cock.  He just let me lick as, after a moment he started to eat again.

 

Jack kept me there beneath his desk for his entire lunch break- over a half-hour.  After he finished eating he simply returned his bag and thermos to the drawer and then lit up a cigarette, leaning back with a satisfied sigh as I continued to pleasure him.  He grew hard and came two more times during lunch, not even giving me a break.

 

Finally though his lunch must have been over and he put his hand on my head to shove me back.  I settled back on my heels and looked up at him expectantly, licking his cum from my lips.  He grinned wickedly down at me and ordered me to put his dick back and zip him up.  I did, and he scooted aside a bit to let me crawl back out of my cubbyhole.

 

“Back to work, bitch!” he ordered without even a thank you for my attention.  I stared at him for a moment, my eyes tearing up.  God- I wanted thanks now?  Appreciation for a job well done?  I had to get out of this!

 

Jack slapped me and I fell onto my side, fully crying now.  My emotions were shot to hell and I could feel confusion and pain swelling inside me.  What had Christine done to me?  I could not believe that I had become SO pathetic SO quickly.  Jesus!  At all…

 

Jack raised his hand and I cried out.  “No!” I shouted, scrambling about onto my knees.  “No… “ I repeated, softer as I leaned in and started kissing his filthy shoes for forgiveness.  I did not want to be hit again.  “Please… “ I breathed between lavishing licks and kisses on his dirty, foul-smelling loafers.  I heard him chuckle overhead as he slid his feet around, enjoying the attention.

 

“Good girl,” he chuckled, sliding his other foot under my face.  “That’s right.  Make Daddy happy or I’ll beat yer butt.”  I nodded, leaning into his shoes and my task.

 

We both jumped to hear the outer door to the courtyard slam shut followed by the sound of flip-flops coming up the short set of stairs.  Jack slid his feet back as I glanced back to hear a familiar laugh.

 

It was Christine…

 

TWELVE

 

 

 

I looked up and Saw Christine coming into the lobby.  She looked hot as usual in her denim shorts and that blue top that she had been wearing that first day.  She had on her black flip-flops again, with her hair kinky and loose about her shoulders.  She smiled as she strolled right past me, within inches, and I saw she had a sheaf of papers in hand.

 

“Hi jack,” she said, sitting right up on the edge of the desk and crossing her legs.  I stared at her as she kicked her leg, her thong slapping on the sole of her foot right in front of my face as she grinned.  “Having some fun, Jack?  Isn’t she precious?” she asked and Jack laughed.

 

“That she is, Chris,” he sniggered and pulled another cigarette out.  He offered her one as well, and lit it as she nodded.  “Very obedient too.”

 

“Oh?” she said, looking at him to continue.  Jack grinned and started in with the story of meeting Anne and Bluto and going through all the rest of the morning.  Christine was laughing and holding her stomach by the time he finished with his own encounter, wiping tears from her eyes.

 

“Oh god…” she laughed.  “That’s great!  Too much!”  She gasped, trying to draw breath as she looked down at me, then started in again all the harder.  Jack just smiled, chuckling as he smoked his cigarette and picked up one of the papers she had brought to read.  I saw his smile widen as his eyes lit up…

 

“For Hire…” he read outloud, “Carla the Maid!  She’ll do anything for a buck.  Contact Shannon to set up an hourly appointment.”  He laughed, setting the paper down on the stack.  “Cute.”

 

“Give those to all the tenants, okay Jack?” Christine said, finally scooting off the desk and padding around me.  She circled me as I continued to kneel there, and I saw ash fall in front of me.  “Shannon and I decided to lease the bitch out during the week.  She works, and I’ll take her to task around here, but Carla’s a damn good little drudge and it won’t take her long to have this place sparkling.”

 

“I’ll say,” Jack agreed.  “I didn’t know you were in with Shannon, though?”

 

“Actually, Shannon’s in with me.  I’m the one caught him stealing panties from my wash.  The pathetic little shit was so terrified of jail that he signed his life away.  Didn’t even know what he was signing when I offered him a contract, or that I could just scan in his signature and transfer it to any paper I typed up on the computer.  Shannon knows her laws too.  It was so easy, it was pathetic.  We figured why not make a buck off his ass while we were at it.  I bet most anyone in the building would pay for Carla’s ‘special’ attention, hunh?”

 

I had straightened up and was sitting back on my heels and staring at Christine at that point, listening in disbelief.  They were going to lease me out now, renting me to my neighbors without a care.  I could not believe it, though why I was not surprised I don’t know.  My head was spinning, and Christine was standing arrogantly over me, one hand on her hip and the other with the cigarette at her lips.  She took a drag and blew smoke about me, making me cough.

 

“Something to say, bitch?  You seem upset.” She sneered, grinning evilly down at me, almost daring me to say something.  Stupidly, I did.

 

“You… You said a month,” I whined, looking up at her with pleading eyes.  I was ready to cry again.  God, what had happened to me?

 

“I lied,” Christine said without batting an eye.

 

“But… You can’t… You can’t do this to me!”

 

“I already have,” she smirked, exhaling on me again.  “You don’t like it, you can always leave,” she said, glancing out the front windows, then back to me.  “There’s the door…” she said, gesturing with her cigarette.

 

I licked my lips, staring up into her cold, cruel eyes.  My erection wilted under her harsh gaze, her cruel smile.  I looked to the door.  It was beautiful out, a gorgeous sunny day.  I saw people strolling by, enjoying the bright, warm weather.  They seemed oblivious as to the drama unfolding just yards away from where they walked.

 

“Go ahead…” she added, even going a step further, strolling to the door and opening it for me.  I looked to my hands, still locked in handcuffs and the filthy maid’s uniform that I was wearing.

 

“I can’t go out like this…”

 

Christine shrugged.  “Up to you, Carl.  This is your chance.  Leave now and all bets are off.  I’ll tear up all the contracts, delete the pictures, everything.  You’ll be free to go.”

 

“But… But my things.  My apartment…”

 

“You have no apartment, Carl.  That belongs to me and Shannon now.  And as to your things, well, you’re wearing all you own.  Try to get your identity back and you’ll find that you owe quite a bit of money now, too.  Might be wise not to try.  I imagine that in a month or so your Credit Cards are gonna be looking for you.  And Con Ed, and Verizon, and AOL… ”

 

I was breathing hard as I listened to Christine, my heart hammering in my chest.  I looked to Jack, but he was just grinning widely, enjoying the show.  I looked to Christine again, and then back outside.

 

“Clock’s ticking, Carl.  Make a choice.  Be a man, for God’s sake.  Or stay and be a bitch!”

 

I heard Jack laugh.  I struggled to rise, and to my surprise I actually made it to my feet.  My legs were shaking like crazy as I licked my lips and stepped towards the open door.  There had to be someone out there that would help me.  There HAD to be.  I looked pleadingly at Christine as I reached the door.  She just grinned.

 

“Please…” I begged, holding out my shackled hands.  She shrugged.

 

“Sorry, Carl.  I left my keys downstairs.  Besides, they’re yours and I think you look really pretty in them,” she said, flicking the chain on my cuffs.  I sighed, starting to cry again as I heard Jack laughing all the harder.

 

“Well?” she asked, taking another drag on her cigarette, seemingly unconcerned whether I stayed or not.  I supposed that she really did not care.  I imagined that she might miss me, but she and Shannon were probably all the richer off my maxxed credit, so she got what she wanted.  I licked my lips and looked from her to Jack.  He was standing now, coming around the desk.  He was still smiling, but it looked as though he was ready to rein me in again if Christine told him to.  I staggered out the door, spinning about and backing into the court before the building.  Christine smirked at me, her hand out to hold Jack back.

 

“Fine,” she said.  “You’ve made your decision.  Don’t come back.”  She took her cigarette butt and flicked it at me, she and Jack laughing as it bounced off of my chest.  I backed away, starting to cry even harder and finally turned and ran.

 

I did not run far, just getting around the edge of the building before I stopped.  I leaned back against the warm stone of the building, trying to catch my breath in huge, sobbing gasps.  I wiped at my eyes, watching, ignoring as people strolled by, staring at me.  Some of them smirked and laughed, while others simply shook their heads in disgust.  I had to get out of there I knew.  I had to go somewhere and hide.  I looked at my hands, still cuffed, my leash dangling.  I had to get the handcuffs off and out of my girly clothes before I could do anything to get my life back.

 

I knew that there were locksmiths just a couple blocks away, over on 14^th Street.  They would be able to get the cuffs off, but of course I had no money and I was fairly sure that they would not do me any favors for free.  Hell, at that point I would have sucked more dick if it meant my eventual freedom…

 

I shuddered that I had just thought such a thing.  Was I that far gone already?

 

But even if the best happened and some locksmith got the cuffs off, what then?  Where would I go?  I had no money.  I had no ID- hell, no identity at all.  Shannon and Christine had made me virtually disappear, erasing Carl for Carla and throwing me into debt to boot.  The way my luck went, even if I appeared as Carl again, I would be arrested for my debts, and probably without a trial.  I had fallen so far that they would have a field day with me in prison.  What was I supposed to do?

 

I could call my sister- collect- but we had never gotten along.  She would probably laugh in my face, figuratively, over the phone.  And even on the off chance that she agreed to help me out, what would happen?  I should walk cross-country to the West Coast?  She could wire me money maybe, but again there was the ID thing.  I could not prove who I was and I seriously doubted that she would come across country and get me.

 

I had no friends to speak of, and the few folk that I knew through work were just odd and anonymous e-mail addresses.  Even if I got hold of one of them, and even if they were in Manhattan, they were all into the bondage thing too, and would probably jump on the bandwagon that my ass had become and treat me even worse than my neighbors, as they were professionals.

 

God!  I actually thought about going back and begging Christine to forgive me.  If I kissed her feet and ass enough, she would probably take me back…

 

“You okay, miss?”

 

I jumped and looked up and saw an old man looking back at me.  He was just some guy passing, old enough to still be chivalrous I supposed as he looked me up and down with concern.  I swallowed, licking my lips and looking around near to panic, not thinking that maybe he just really wanted to help.  I had been beaten and conditioned to expect the worst.  What did this guy want?  What were his ulterior motives?  My mind was racing!

 

I shoved him away and ran…

 

I reached the avenue, gasping and crying, staggering as I tried to control my rampant emotions and get my bearings.  Why had I done that?  I needed help, so why had I run?  He might have helped me.  I glanced back but saw that he was gone.

 

Tears welled again as I looked up and down the street.  Sixth Avenue was crowded, so I knew that it was still early in the day.  After noon, and now there were people out en masse; walking dogs, running, drinking expensive coffee as they strolled the street without a care.  People like me- like I used to be any way.  Yuppies…

 

They ignored me in passing, in that way that they do.  Looking but not actually looking.  Seeing me, but looking through me like I was dirt, so far beneath them that they could not see me past the end of their upturned noses.  They took me in, rolled me around in their thoughts and dismissed me as a freak just as quickly.  Pervert… Slut… Whore… That’s all they saw.

 

I ran…

 

Towards 14^th Street, sobbing and hoping that one of the locksmiths would take pity on me.  If not them, then maybe the cops.  My only hope-

 

Someone grabbed me from behind, hauling me easily off my feet.  I gasped, gathering air to shout as I started to kick frantically, and a hand clamped over my mouth, hand-gagging me easily with a huge, rough-skinned palm.

 

“Mmmph!” I screamed into the stiff, ragged hand, struggling for all that I was worth though my feet could not even touch the ground.

 

“Hey, baby,” a surly voice hissed in my ear.  I smelled beer and halitosis- bad breath as rough arms pulled me close, stale breath washing over my face.  I gagged, still trying to struggle as the man held me easily.  “What’s your hurry?”

 

I struggled, kicking as the arms about my waist pinned my own arms down.  I scrabbled and kicked, though to no avail as I was dragged back off of the sidewalk and down a set of stairs, into the shadows.  I knew where I was, a building on the Avenue that had a sunken courtyard in front surrounded by a high metal fence.  There were offices down below, dark and empty on the weekend, and vacant.  I struggled harder but made no headway, quickly becoming winded and weak.  Whoever had me was way stronger than me, despite that my wrists were cuffed.  I seriously doubted that even free I could have beaten him off.

 

If anyone saw me being pulled off of the street, they did nothing to help.  They probably even watched, hell, they could have been taking pictures for all that I knew, but I was on my own.  Worse, I knew where I was going, and who had me- who had taken me.  When the offices were empty, the Homeless took over the court, at least for the weekend.

 

I was thrown to the ground once we got to the bottom, tumbling and rolling.  I winced, my arms and knees scraping on the hard cement.  I moaned, drawing my arms in and curling up in fetal position and trying to stop from crying.  I heard someone laughing and slowly I blinked, wiping my eyes as I looked up and around.

 

There were three of them; two men and a woman.  They were sitting there in the shadows, two of them, with the third who had caught me standing protectively over me.  They were all dressed in rags; tattered pants and shirts, and jackets despite the heat.  The men wore gloves that were nearly shredded, showing their fingers full of cuts and dry skin.  They had a small campsite set up there in the shadows, with four shopping carts tied together and loaded with junk; bits of metal and cans, a television set that I could see, along with other things that they had gathered together.

 

“What the fuck’s this?” one of them said, the second man leaning forward and wiping his nose.  He was white, with a raggedy growth of beard and pale skin.  He grinned wide, leering at me, missing teeth.  He smelled.

 

“Found her,” the one who grabbed me answered, shuffling forward in ragged tennis shoes.  He was black I saw, wearing a ratty trench coat and a nit cap on his head.  His eyes were red-rimmed with yellow tinted whites.  “Right up there,” he added, jerking a thumb towards the sidewalk above where the crowds continued to pass by oblivious.

 

“She gots cuffs on,” the woman said, staring at me with some concern, as though I was invading her territory.  She glanced between the two men somewhat worried it seemed.  She might have been pretty, after a bath and haircut, but dressed and unkempt as she was she did nothing for me.  “She a con?  Ran off from the cops?”

 

The man that caught me shrugged I saw, as he walked by and pulled a bottle of water from their communal pile of stuff.  “Dunno,” he said, wiping his arm across his lips as he capped the bottle again.  “Figger she’s up for grabs though.”  The second man chuckled again at that, easing forward.  He reached towards me, but I backed up only to receive a swift kick in the ass from the first.

 

“Pretty…” the other man said, touching my leg and licking his cracked and chapped lips.  He was stroking my bare leg, reaching higher, going up under my dress.  The woman slapped him.

 

“Knock it off, Charlie!” she shouted and he whimpered, drawing back.  “Ya act like ya never had a woman before.”  The woman looked at me then, a serious, long look that seemed to be undressing me and cutting into my soul.

 

“Why you locked up, bitch?” she asked with a sneer.

 

“Please…” I whined, holding up my chained hands.  “Help me…” The woman reached out and slapped me hard and I fell over to the cement again.

 

“Cunt!” she snapped, scrambling forward and crawling right up onto me.  She smelled too- like the men, and I struggled against her weight, but I was bound and weak and she easily overpowered me and held me down.  She leaned in as she straddled my stomach and pinned my arms, hissing in my face as she shifted her weight to get comfortable.  I moaned to feel my penis stiffening again.

 

“What the fuck is this shit, hunh?  Who are you bitch?  What?” she screamed, spitting in my face.  Her eyes were wild and wide, full of fire and I suspected that she was just a tiny bit crazy.

 

“Please,” I said, rolling and trying to raise my arms.  She reached down and grabbed the chain between my wrists and forced my arms overhead as she leaned in and sneered.  The two men simply watched, one sitting back out of the way, the other hovering over me and licking his lips in excitement.

 

“Please…” she sneered, mocking me.  “Please…” She reared back and backhanded me, sending my head bouncing off the cement.  I moaned as she sidled forward, pinning my arms down with her knees as she pressed my cuffed hands easily to the concrete with her outstretched hand.

 

“You look like a maid,” she sneered, holding my two hands easily with one of her own.  Her other hand ran down my chest, flicking at my nipples through my dress.  “Are you?”  I nodded at her question, terrified.  I had heard stories of the homeless and disease- AIDS…

 

“ARE YOU?” she screeched, bending into my face, spitting and screaming.

 

“Yes!” I gasped, turning my face away and squeezing my eyelids shut.

 

“Good,” she said, easing back and settling on my stomach again.  She patted my face with her free hand as her two partners hunkered closer.  “We need a maid.  Need someone to do the shit work.” She smiled, holding my face in her fingers, pinching my lips together.  “You gonna be our bitch,” she said, and I knew that it was not a question, no chance for debate.

 

The woman eased off of me then, settling to sit near me, and the first man hoisted me up and then slammed me down onto my knees in front of her.  He held my head down, pressing my face to the cement.  The woman laughed and slid her foot forward, under my face.

 

“Lick!” she commanded and I stared at her foot, her shoe.  I could smell her foot encased in the soft black leather of her ripped and worn Reeboks.  I could see her toes wiggling under the thin leather, easing up at me as the man held my head down closer.  I was whimpering but I finally stuck out my tongue.  I had been trained well.  I started to lick.

 

The woman laughed again, a sickly, rasping thing…

 

***

 

I collapsed to my knees in front of the A&P, right in front of the Recycle machines…

 

I was exhausted from my ordeal, hauling their wagons of metal and cans, plastic bottles and glass through the streets of Manhattan.  I was gasping for breath as Mary stepped up by my head.  I looked up, pleading as she brought the strap down on my back again.  And again…

 

I curled up on the ground at her feet as Mary the homeless woman; my master slammed the belt across my back.  I was scarred and tortured now, welts on my back and thighs and ass from my new masters: Mary, Ed and Jason.  She did not seem to care as she laid into me, her two companions pulling the cans and bottles from the wagons and feeding the recycle machines.  They completely ignored me and my pathetic, muffled whimpering, as Mary beat me again.

 

I curled under the lash, begging for forgiveness that I knew would not come.  Mary was crazy and she hated me.  I was just a horse to her, just a beast of burden to pull their four wagons through the streets as they gathered cans and bottles for recycling.  I was reined into a twisted frame of leather, plastic and rope, lashed to the chain that they had created, dragging their shopping carts through the streets at their whim.  My hands were still handcuffed before me, but Mary had tied me to the frame of their wagons and made me drag them through the streets every day.  I was gagged again, with a swath of duct tape and something foul clotting my mouth like a stick wrapped in leather.  My body was lashed to the wagon train, rope and leather about my stomach, chest, shoulders and neck making it impossible for me to move in any direction but that which Mary commanded.  I was a horse to them; the homeless, my masters…

 

If I had thought that I had had it bad before in my building, I had been dreadfully wrong.  That had been paradise compared to the horrible existence that I now led…

 

During the day they drove me hard through the streets of Chelsea.  The trio had a circuit that they followed, knowing when garbage was set out and recycling.  Apparently there was a hierarchy among the homeless as well, as everything always seemed to be waiting for Mary and her boys untouched.  Towards the end of the day we would then visit a local grocery store that had recycling machines and while Ed and Jason fed the daily take into the machines Mary would usually sit on me, or beat me, or make me grovel to keep her entertained while we waited.

 

At night we would either head west or east.  East was worse.

 

To the west under the FDR there was a small makeshift shanty town where the homeless gathered.  Mary and her companions would lead me in to share in the community for the night and rent out a bit of space to sleep.  I was usually lashed to one of the road’s support columns for the night, on my knees and tight with my bit gag on bungee cords for easy access.  It had been Mary’s idea to rent my mouth to all comers for food or spare change, whatever she deemed worthy.  I would kneel there all night ready to please anyone in their little community that wanted me, man or woman.  I was used a lot and hardly got any sleep, any night.

 

They fed me of course, and watered me.  They had to, especially when they realized that I was getting sick from lack of water.  They did not give me much, and usually it was the left-overs and scraps of whatever they wanted to spare; half gnawed on chicken, chewed over bits of take out and pet food straight from the can.  I ate whatever they presented, as I was starving all too soon.

 

And of course they beat me.  They all seemed to enjoy that.

 

Bad as that was, I trembled in fear when my masters decided to move east for the night.  I soon learned that far on the island’s east side in Chelsea, just blocks from where I once lived, there were Transvestites standing out on the highway and selling their bodies.  Worse, there were a lot of men that came around with a lot of money.

 

Mary made a deal with the CD’s and bought a spot off the highway to sell me on a regular basis.  She and her boys would tie me hand and foot and make me stand there all night, waiting for someone to stop.  Way too many men did too, of all shapes and sizes and color.  Apparently having me bound, gagged and ready was a BIG turn on for these men that secretly wanted their cock’s sucked (at least) by a man or boy in women’s clothes.  I did as Mary directed, as she would come rushing forward from the shadows to handle the transactions when a car would stop.  I have no idea how much money the trio made off of me those nights, but it had to be more money than they had all seen in quite awhile as we came back more and more.  Too, the other CD’s eventually took advantage of me as well, for a nominal fee.

 

And of course they had their fun with me as well.  I sucked off Ed and Jason on a nightly basis and Mary too had me licking her out almost every night.  Mary liked having her feet licked too, and once or twice when she was in a good mood she simply hog-tied me and fell asleep with me sucking on her toes.  Ed liked duking me up the ass, and he took my virginity one rainy night down on the West Side.  Jason drew the line at blow jobs, though he did enjoy the way I sucked on his nipples.

 

Life was hell…

 

Mary stood over me as her companions fed the cans and bottles that they had gathered into the grinding machines outside the A&P on Sixth Avenue.  I was on my knees, breathing hard as she straddled me with a grin, watching as their money count grew.  I was done, aching and beaten.

 

I could not even imagine that I could sink lower than I had.  I had escaped Shannon and Christine, and stumbled right into a new form of slavery- slaves to the homeless.  I sagged, hanging my head as people passed, ignoring my plight.  I was even less than before.  I was one of those that begged for money now, sitting on the sidelines and stepped over… Ignored…

 

I was less than nothing.  Less than scum…

 

Mary put her foot on the back of my head and I lowered my face to the sidewalk without protest.  I had learned my place and knew the futility of fighting back.  I heard her laugh as she settled onto my back, her dirty shoe up under my face...

 

“Carla?”

 

I looked up to hear my name.  How long had it been?  Days?  Weeks?  I had no idea.  Time was a blur unending.  I tried to focus as someone stepped closer and stood over me.  I saw Shannon…

 

She was dressed in a smoky gray business suit; jacket and skirt, dark nylons and her kid leather pumps that I remembered so well.  She looked clean and fresh, holding an A&P bag in one hand as she lowered her cell phone in the other.  I looked up, moaning into the bit gag that Mary had affixed to my face, tears welling in my eyes-

 

“Gahhh…”

 

Shannon stared at me and flipped her cell phone closed with a click.  She dropped her phone into her purse as she looked at me, and then at Mary, adjusting her stance.

 

“What’Chu want, bitch?” Mary asked stepping right up in front of Shannon and looking her up and down with a sneer.  Shannon looked back at me.  I whimpered.

 

“Nothing,” she said, staring at me.  I moaned into my gag, thrashed about in my makeshift harness, trying to let her know…

 

“Yarrrrr!” I screamed, immediately regretting my outburst.

 

Mary whipped back and slammed her belt across my back to shut me up.  I did, hunkering and groveling at her feet.  I nudged at her foot for forgiveness…

 

“Got money?” Mary asked, eyeing Shannon’s expensive dress.  “He’ll clean your shoes for ten.  He likes it.”

 

There was silence.  I looked up just as Shannon leaned in and slammed Mary back and up against the wall of the building.  Mary huffed, her two companions moving forward quickly to help, but a sharp glance and glare from Shannon froze them both in their tracks.  Shannon leaned in to Mary, face to face…

 

“I’m going to give you a hundred for your slave.  That’s more than fair I think.  You’ll take it, and forget that you ever saw her.  Right?”

 

Mary shook her head, eyes wide and nodding as Shannon released her, stepping back and wiping her hands together to get the dirt off.  She dipped her hand into her little leather purse then and pulled out her matching wallet.  She peeled out five twenties and held it out to Mary.  I saw Mary’s eyes go wider still.  She licked her lips and snatched the money, flipping through it before it vanished down the front of her pants.  I was surprised and figured that I must have been a bargain on the East Side.

 

“He’s all yers,” Mary said as she stepped forward and unhooked me from the makeshift harness the trio had tied about me.  It took a moment, but once I was free of the wagons she handed the lead still connected to my collar to Shannon.  Shannon smiled…

 

“Thank you,” she said coolly, giving me a sharp jerk as she started off down the street.  I heard Mary and her friends arguing over the money as we walked away.

 

The people ignored us of course as she led me down the street, walking the few blocks back to the apartment building that had once been my home.  After a block or so as I shuffled along, trying to keep up I saw Shannon pull out her cell phone again and speed dial a number.  She held the phone to her ear, glancing at me and waiting for the traffic light to change…

 

“Hey… Yeah, it’s me,” she spoke as someone apparently answered.  “You should meet me in the lobby.  Yeah, it’s a surprise.”  Figured I knew who that was.

 

Shannon started dragging me along again as she flipped her cell closed and dropped it back into her small purse.  I struggled to keep up as she strode along, taking long strides in her leather skirt and black pumps.  She did not care, almost dragging me to the ground several times as she turned down the street of our building and right up to the door.  I looked up as she stepped into the foyer and unlocked the door and saw Christine waiting…

 

Christine smiled as Shannon led me inside, dragging me and finally throwing me to the floor between them.  I moaned, broken and sobbing.

 

“Look what I found…” Shannon said, as she towered over me.  Christine laughed.

 

“God…” she laughed, walking about me as I hunkered on the floor.  I was filthy and beaten, but I tried my best to get up and kneel for her.  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she laughed, then realized what she said and giggled.  “Sorry, but she looks like shit.  Where’d you find her?  And why’d you bring her back?  She wanted out.”

 

“She looked miserable,” Shannon said as she leaned against the vacant desk in the lobby.  I did not see Jack, so knew that it must be after five or six.  “You would NOT believe what she was doing when I spotted her.  I think she’s ready to kiss some ass now, though, with no more complaints.  I don’t think that she realized just how good she had it here.”

 

Christine stepped up and over me then, thumping me with her foot.  I mewled into the bit gag that Mary had locked to my head.  “That true, bitch?” she asked, her hands on her hips.  “You sorry?”

 

I nodded, curling up at her feet and bowing down before her.  I felt Christine’s hands as she undid the leather that held the bit in my mouth.  I gasped, thanking her as she slipped it free…

 

“Thank you… Thank you…”

 

“Show me,” she said as she slipped her foot under my face.  She was wearing those blue leather casuals again, just like that very first day.  The first day that had become the rest of my life.  I leaned in without a thought, tears welling in my eyes, kissing, soon licking.  I heard Christine chuckle…

 

“Yeah… That’s right, bitch… Welcome home…”

 

I heard them both laugh and I started crying then, glad to be home again and safe.  I licked for all that I was worth…

 

I was back home, in my rightful place where I belonged.  At their feet…

 

Forever…

 

END

 

Story © Curt F 2006