PART 7
I woke to darkness. Thankfully though, this time I was on my bed, on
the sofa in the living room. I ached, moaning as I craned my neck, trying to
get a look at the clock on the table. 1:14 A.M. its red L.E.D. letters read.
The middle of the night.
I sat up. I felt clean, and I realized that I had my pajama shorts on,
what I usually wore to bed. Sharon must have freed me, then cleaned me. The
grit and grime of the Dog Lady's apartment was gone, the taste of feet washed
from my mouth. The feel of the dogs gone from between my thighs.
I looked about the room and saw that Steve's door was closed. He must
have come home, but I slept right through it. I figured that he and Sharon were
in his room now, totally oblivious to the perversions of me, the roommate. I
wondered what Sharon had thought of me. I remembered pouring my heart out to
her, but I don't really remember just what I had said to her. I had to have
told her in full about the Dog Lady, but what else?
I got up and staggered to the sink. My legs were weak, and I was
half-asleep, but I got a drink of water and stumbled back to my bed, wrapping
myself in the sheet for warmth. I had no idea what was going on, but I was
determined to find out. I laid back onto my bed and closed my eyes. I was out
like a light in seconds...
In the morning when I woke, Steve had already left. It was Saturday I
realized, and I wondered where he might have gone. I got out of bed and
shambled to the coffee pot, where I found his note:
Bill,
Went to Sharon's for the day!
See you tonight...
Steve
Wonderful.
I had the whole day to myself. The whole day to figure out what was
wrong with me...
I looked through the cupboards for the coffee and found the container
was empty. Even the jar of instant was down to the last grounds. I could count
them on the spoon, flavor crystals and all. No wonder Steve had dipped out. I
was falling down on my job as housekeeper it seemed. As Steve had not made a
pot, I assumed he had had none either and made my way to the bathroom.
A shower and two cigarettes later I was feeling a bit better, but my
brain was still a little fuzzy. I got dressed, trying to sort my problems in my
head, but could not really concentrate. I needed my caffeine so headed for the
door, my destination: the deli.
I lit another cigarette, not even thinking about it, as I walked to the
end of the block. By my reckoning, I was missing some ten hours of my life,
blanked out between the last things I remembered and waking up bound, twice. I
had no idea how I had gotten into the situations I had found myself in, but I
was reasonably certain that I had not done it to myself. Someone had to have
tied me up. But, who?
I figured the Dog Lady as a logical suspect, but then I had to wonder
why? Just for a perverted screw? She could have just asked and I probably
would have done it in my present state. Well, not fucking the dogs, but the
rest of it...maybe.
But if not her, then who? Steve? Sharon? Again...why?
I shook my head, tossed my butt in the gutter and entered the deli;
still as muddled and confused as when I had left my apartment. I had no idea
what was going on, but it was damn sure that I could not figure it out either.
It was beyond me, at least without my morning coffee.
The deli was all but empty as I entered; a woman whom I recognized
behind the counter and a man I did not behind the deli bar. It was an Indian
deli, and both of them were East Indian, not that that mattered to me. I
strolled back to the back of the store, nodding at the man as I passed and
grabbed a blue can of coffee for all coffee makers. I picked up a roll of
toilet paper as well and a box of donuts on the way back to the counter and set
the load on the Formica top.
The woman at the register was sitting on a stool reading a pocket book
when I arrived. It took her a moment to finish the paragraph and mark her place
before standing up to check me out, so, being a man, I took the time to look her
over. All the women working in the deli were cute (except one chubby one)
dressed in their purple polyester smocks, tight jeans and usually tennis shoes.
Rashi, I think was the name of this one, was no exception. She was fairly tall,
taller than the rest, and older with darker skin and reddish-streaked black
hair. She wore a thin wire-framed pair of glasses and several rings on most of
her fingers as well as a good number of bracelets in silver and gold. She
seemed to rattle and jingle when she moved. I said 'Hello', and pushed my
purchases towards her as she returned my greeting-
"Hi-"
I was suddenly on my knees scraping my tongue along the filthy tiles of
the deli floor in front of the counter in a desperate attempt to reach Rashi's
shoes. I heard her squeak in surprise, but her noises were almost drowned out
by the disgusting, slurping noises that I was making and the words I was
saying...
"Please! Please let me kiss your feet. Please god, I'll be your slave!
I'll do anything...Just let me lick your shoes!"
I was out of control. Rather, I had no control over what I was doing.
Something in my head just seemed to click and my legs had buckled beneath me. I
was licking the floor, being denied actually licking her dirty sneakers, and
there was nothing more important than that at that point. I wanted to kiss her
feet. I wanted to humiliate myself before this woman, and all else was gone; my
dignity, my manhood, my sanity, until I had satisfied her with my degrading
performance.
I could see her feet shuffling about under the counter and pressed my
face right up against the barrier, stretching my tongue in an effort to get at
Rashi's feet. It did not occur to me to climb over the counter, or to go
around. That was not in my thinking. Thinking was not part of my thinking now.
Only her feet...Her beautiful, sexy shoes...
I heard myself scream as someone grabbed my collar and hauled me
struggling to my feet. I was kicking and fighting as the guy from behind the
deli bar wrapped one arm around my neck and hooked one of my arms up behind my
back. It hurt, but I did not seem to care. I only had eyes for Rashi, and I
pleaded with her to let me kiss her feet. The man slammed my head into the
counter.
They were talking in Hindu, or Pakistani, or whatever language they
spoke. I did not know. I got the gist that he wanted to throw me out of the
store, so I started begging and pleading with him not to do it. I swore that I
would do anything he asked if he just let me lick her shoes. I promised to be
his slave, to work in the deli for free; cleaning up, scrubbing the floors,
whatever. I promised to suck his cock...
He slammed me to the floor of the back room and a second later I felt
his knee driving into the small of my back. I was still gibbering, and did not
struggle as he wrapped a length of packing twine about my wrists, then stretched
it down to bind my ankles as well. It was hot and dark and dusty in the back
room of the store, but I did not care. I just kept on calling out for Rashi and
her feet, whining all the louder as the man stuffed a greasy rag into my mouth
and tied it off with another. He stood back and stared down at me as he wiped
his brow of sweat. His eyes seemed glazed with confusion...and lust.
Rashi stepped into the back room and I immediately started to worm my
way across the floor at her feet. She backed up in shock, and they exchanged a
few words in their native tongue again before she turned and left. I moaned in
agony as the man squatted down in front of me and grabbed a handful of my hair.
He slapped me until I shut up...
"You listen to me now..." he said, a sadistic grin making his mustache
twitch. "I don't know what you're up to, but I have two choices... I call the
police and you get locked up, or you do as I say and we have some fun." I
moaned into my gag, straining to catch a glimpse of Rashi in the front of the
store. The man slapped me again-
"Those things you said. In my home, they would be a binding...contract.
You wish your life away, and someone takes you up on it. But I'm not cruel..."
he smiled, "You just blow me, and I'll let you go." He dropped to his knees and
twisted me about, reaching behind my head to undo the knot in my gag. He
plucked the rag from my mouth and I coughed, licking my lips to regain my voice.
He aimed my head at his crotch-
"Please...Just let me kiss her feet...That's all I want. I'll do
whatever you ask, just-"
His dick slammed against my lips and pushed its way down my throat as I
tried to speak. It wasn't huge, but it was big enough. Rocko's was bigger.
Still he held onto my hair and yanked me forward, grinding my head around
against my best efforts to resist. He inched forward and I felt his zipper
against my chin. I could smell his body odor, not quite hidden under a healthy
wash of cologne. He smelled of unwashed balls.
His penis swelled quickly, and I sucked. The humiliation was intense as
I licked around the throbbing member swiftly filling my mouth. Tears were
streaming down my face as I begged for Rashi's feet around my living, dripping
gag. I felt it poking the back of my throat as he rammed deeper and deeper,
thrusting, trying to get off. I felt it tremble, quivering as I stroked it with
my tongue. What was wrong with me?
It did not take long. I felt the burning blast of hot jism as it
exploded against the back of my throat. I heard the man scream as he rammed his
crotch into my face and I sucked all the harder, gagging as I tried to swallow
every drop. I knew that if I did a good job I would get at Rashi's feet, so I
did the best I could. It did not take long as I felt his penis slow, the
pumping becoming slower as the man spent his energy, but still I licked and
sucked for all I was worth. Finally the man pushed me away after I had cleaned
the last drops from the head of his shriveling penis.
He sagged back onto his ass, collapsing right in front of me onto the
dirty floor in the back room of the deli. He was smiling, his eyes lost and far
away. I heard Rashi calling from the front of the store, but did not know what
she was saying. The man heard her too, and looked annoyed.
He got up, hopping to his feet and gathered up the discarded rags of my
gag. He stuffed one into my mouth again and knotted it in with the other once
more to stifle my whining. He then checked my bonds and stood up, satisfied as
I had not even tried to get away. He glanced about the room, then grabbed me by
the legs suddenly and drug me across the room. He took me to a door in the back
wall and opened it, and I saw that it was a closet full of cleaning supplies;
brooms, a mop and bucket, dusters. He drug me in and checked my bonds once more
before shutting the door. I heard the latch click, then heard a bolt sliding
into place. I was locked in...
