A CHANGE OF SCENERY
by
C. Lakewood
God! School was FINALLY out! Brian, my sort-of fiancé-to-be
and fellow teacher, was also eager to be off on vacation, but he
wanted to go north and east, whereas I wanted to head south and
west. I could easily have gotten him to come along with me, but
I opted not to. Therefore, we wouldn't be seeing each other for
a while...which was probably for the best. I mean, I was 29,
staring 30 in the face, and was beginning to feel a sense of
urgency. But was Brian what I really wanted or just somebody I
might be willing to settle for? I sometimes dreamed of hooking
up with a man who was stronger than Brian. To tell the truth, I
generally called the shots in our relationship, and, while that
could be nice, still....
I decided to test things by using this summer for an unofficial
trial separation of sorts.
So, off I went in "Alice," my ancient, beloved Ford Tempo, with
a lot on my mind, but determined to rehabilitate myself over the
next three months.
A few days into the trip, and a few miles outside of Los Gatos,
Nevada, Alice began to make strange noises. I nursed her along, as
far as a ramshackle gas station/general store, but there she died,
and nothing anybody could do would resurrect her.
The station owner talked it over with a May-December Japanese
couple in a rust-and-yellow VW Bug, and they offered me a lift into
town. The man was rather stocky and extremely ugly -- but he did
have a presence. The girl was cute, perky, and petite. In the
end, I decided to go with them. There was barely room for me and
certainly none for my luggage. They all agreed that it'd be safe
in my locked car, but I still grabbed my camera bag (nothing else
was worth much). I crammed myself into the VW, and off we went,
down a dusty road.
The girl, Ariko, told me that I could expect a real hassle if
I tried to check in most places without even one suitcase. She
talked it over with the man (whose name was Kaz), and, in the end,
I was invited to stay with them.
Really, what choice did I have?
After about 20 minutes, we reached their house, a nondescript
ranch with a built-on storefront. (Kaz, it seems, made and sold
jewelry and other items.) They introduced me to Kaz's mother (who
had to have been in her 60s, but looked about 45).
We dined on some strange Japanese food, washed down by much
rice wine. And, after dinner, we kept on drinking. And talking.
I guess the wine relaxed my inhibitions and let me verbalize some
frustrations that I had been only vaguely aware of. I don't know
what all I told them, but it must have been, well, pretty much
everything.
I woke up the next morning feeling slightly disoriented, but
in fairly good shape, considering. I was naked, and I vaguely
wondered how I'd gotten that way.
I must have made some noise in looking around for something
to wear (without success), because Ariko soon came bustling in,
grinning broadly.
"So. You ready to get started, girl?" she asked.
"Started? On what?"
"On living your submissive fantasies, of course. Or have you
forgotten so soon?"
("Submissive fantasies"? Well, maybe...deep down....)
"I-I-I...."
"Not to worry; you can leave it all to us. BUT you do need
to be certain. So decide now. If you want to leave, just say so,
and we'll go get your stuff and drive you to a hotel. Or, decide
to stay, and that'll be your last decision for a while. You will
do as we say, for as long as we say, without any questions or
arguments or negotiations."
("Well," I thought, "there ARE some things in the depths of my
psyche that I probably should be finding out for sure about....
And nobody knows me out here, so...'what happens in Nevada stays
in Nevada,' as it were.")
"O-kay. I guess you're the boss."
"Yessss! The magic words! Now, the first thing is to get you
cleaned up. C'mon."
To my surprise, she led me out the back door to a blacktopped
parking lot -- within sight of the nearby county road, for god's
sake. She proceeded to hose me down and tossed me a bar of coarse
soap.
"We have to shave you, so wash the outside of your cunt good,"
she said. "But leave the inside alone. Kaz likes his women to
smell natural."
(Shave me? My pubic hair? Off? Oh, god! I'd always thought
I had a pretty nice growth of hair there -- womanly but not bushy
-- and I tried to think back 18 years or so to when it was bald....)
But Ari warmed it up with a hot towel, clipped it close,
shaved it with a straight-edge, followed that with a depilatory
cream, and finally applied some sort of re-growth inhibitor.
While she worked, she laid down some rules for me.
"We expect you to be truthful, respectful, and obedient. You
will address every male you meet (no matter what age) as "sir."
Any unmarried female is "miss," and any married one is "ma'am."
(If you don't know, go by age: younger than you "miss," older
"ma'am.") You don't sit down without permission; you stand or
kneel. When kneeling, or when you are allowed to sit, never let
your knees get within 18" of each other. Understood?"
(For an instant, I hesitated. I'd always been a WASP princess,
and I was a well-educated professional. Ari, on the other hand,
was barely 20 and...well...a Jap. But then I realized how exciting
being deferential toward her would be. I'd have to be "truthful,
respectful, and...obedient. My juices were already beginning to
flow as she worked on me, but now....)
"Yes...um...ma'am."
"Miss."
"Oh, sorry, miss."
"Also, you are not allowed to have cutesy or PC names for body
parts. You've got 'tits,' a 'cunt,' and an 'asshole.' Right?"
"Yes, miss."
Ari ran her fingers over my bald "cunt," and I trembled.
"How often do you masturbate?" she asked.
"Um...no...never.... I-I don't...."
She looked at me a bit exasperated.
"I said,'TRUTHFUL,' remember? Bend over and touch your toes.
And hold that position until I tell you otherwise."
I obeyed. (I got that right, anyway.) I heard a swish and
then felt a line of fire across my bottom. I yelped, but held
position. She laid it on five more times and then repeated,
"How often do you masturbate?"
"Once in a while, miss.... Aaaah! Please!"
"How often do you masturbate?"
"Please! Usually...once or-or t-twice a day. It helps me
relax...."
"Once? Or twice? Which is it?"
"Mostly twice, miss."
"And sometimes more often?"
"S-sometimes...."
"Okay. Show me your technique. But don't cum."
I hesitated, but not long, because she was caressing that
switch.
My cunt was a swamp, and my fingers made obscene noises that
seemed to delight Ari. Soon, very soon, I could feel myself at
the brink.
"Please.... I need to cum."
"No, you WANT to cum. You NEED to do as you're told. And
be respectful in the process. From now on, until you're told
otherwise, every hour on the hour when you're awake, you will
play with yourself for five minutes...AND you will not cum.
You also will not wash again -- anywhere -- for some time.
You whites have an interesting body chemistry. You begin to
smell so...primitive...when you're sweaty and horny.... And
you are going to get really sweaty and REALLY horny."
She retreated to the back porch and sprawled on the bench
there, her legs spread. "Now, kneel down and use your tongue
to give me a few of what you're not allowed: nice, big,
satisfying orgasms."
I was thankful that it was a little more private there. But,
even if it hadn't been, I knew I'd feel compelled to obey. She
tasted...earthy...and orgasmed easily and noisily...and she kept
me at it until she'd cum three times. I thought I envied her
then, but I never dreamed of how I'd feel in the days ahead.
Every day I got different orders, often a different set of
chores. But the one constant was the hourly "edging" -- the
masturbation without cumming. It was not so bad to begin with,
but things got progressively harder, and, by dawn on the fourth
day, I was a wreck. I was constantly horny. I had little
appetite and slept badly. It was very difficult to concentrate.
I was forgetful. I often screwed up my chores (for which I was
duly punished). My cunt kept screaming at me, but they just
wouldn't let me cum.
Meanwhile, everybody else was absolutely rolling in orgasms.
Every day, I had to eat Ari four-five-six times, blow Kaz once or
twice, and even do the old woman. And I was naked all the time.
It was worst when I was outside, washing either the VW or their
old pickup, sweeping the porch, or working in the garden. I never
knew who might be watching me from a distance, watching my tits
and ass jiggle provocatively...and watching my puffy, inflamed
cunt drool down my thighs....
******************************
The morning of the fourth day, things seemed to come to a sort
of climax. (No, not that kind of climax.) I was tired. I was
hornier than I'd ever been in my life. And I stank. Why was I
letting them do this to me? In all my other sexual relationships,
I had always been the one in control, and I liked it that way.
Didn't I?
That morning I was taught a lesson in humility. I was sweeping
out the front of the shop as Kaz opened for business. (The dust
was pervasive. The store could be immaculate when we closed up, be
tightly shuttered all night, and still look like a ghost town set
the next morning.) When three young guys showed up, I tried to
"vamoose," but Kaz wouldn't let me. I was ordered to stand at
attention in the center of the shop floor, giving the boys a good
ogle at me. I had thought I was beyond blushing, but I'd been
wrong. All three of the boys were 18, recently graduated from the
local high school, just enlisted in the Marines, and soon headed
off to boot camp. They had ordered some sort of unique ID jewelry,
and, as each one settled in turn with Kaz, the other two eyeballed
me. Even after all I'd been through the last few days, it was
acutely embarrassing; they were the same age as many of my students
back home.
Things got worse when Kaz told me to take them one by one into
the adjoining storeroom and give them blow jobs. And worst of all
was the fact that I WANTED to.
By the time I had finished three protracted blow jobs, moaning
and slavering, swallowing three huge loads of teenaged cum...and
thanking them afterward...and calling them "sir," I wondered
whether I could ever regard the boys in my classes quite the way
I had.
Kaz collected a dollar from each of the boys as they left, and
then laid three quarters on the counter: my share. So that's what
I had become...a two-bit whore.
******************************
After that, things got better, relatively speaking. Oh, I
still wanted to cum -- more than ever, actually -- but I started
taking a weird sort of pride in my denial and in my obedience.
That evening, they began my nightly confessionals, wherein I
confessed all kinds of shortcomings...laziness, vanity,
self-absorption...and even old crimes -- shoplifting as a
pre-teen, cheating in high school, underage drinking in
college, stealing a rare book in grad school...and being a
chronic prick-tease for the last 15 years or so. And I was
punished for each one.
I ate table scraps, pissed and shit only with permission (and
then always outside, even during the day), and slept on a thin
futon. I developed an amazing stench -- a sweet-and-sour odor
compounded mainly of sweaty arm-pits and excited cunt -- which
was a super-aphrodisiac to Kaz whenever he got within sniffing
distance. Of course, I was paddled or strapped or caned...often,
but not excessively.
As time passed, each of the three used my mouth frequently, and
Kaz butt-fucked me nearly every day (but never quite long enough to
let me cum). Cum! I trembled at the very word. How long would I
have to go without cumming? How perfectly submissive would I have
to become to prove myself worthy of an orgasm?
Would it EVER happen?
Even when I was whoring, they wouldn't allow me to cum. While
I couldn't use my cunt for anything but edging, my mouth was very
popular, and even my asshole got its share of attention. My
customers, incidentally, were all teenagers or senior citizens,
and many were what I once called, in PC-speak, "Native Americans."
I began to take a perverse pride in the perfection of my
submission.
******************************
Then, one afternoon we drove into Los Gatos in the pickup. I
had lost track of the days and was too well-trained to ask. I had
on a thin cotton dress -- one of Ari's cast-offs, threadbare and
very short -- but I was by this time so unaccustomed to wearing any
clothing at all, that I felt nervous. It was almost like violating
a taboo.
We parked on the town's broad main street, and, when I stepped
onto the sidewalk, the heat of the concrete caused my bare feet to
flinch, my callous soles notwithstanding.
Ari heaved a heavy bag out of the truck bed and dumped it at my
feet. It was one of mine.
"We put everything that looked like it might have some value
in here," she said. "The rest we gave to the charity thrift shop.
And we sold your car for parts. It didn't bring much, but more
than enough to get you back home."
She handed me some money.
"There's the bus station across the street. The bus you want
-- IF you're going -- leaves in an hour and forty-four minutes.
Kaz and I are going to take in a movie before we drive back to
the ranch in a couple of hours. If you want to stay with us, be
waiting here. Otherwise...."
She kissed me, then turned and, without a backward glance,
they went off down the street toward the Orpheum movie theatre.
Should I stay or go? Should I run across the street, lock
myself in a ladies' room stall, and -- finally -- cum and cum
and cum? Or...should I voluntarily subject myself to more
exquisite orgasm-denial?
I thought of Frank Stockton's story, "The Lady or the Tiger."
But why? It did involve a choice, but the circumstances were
different. Weren't they?
I mean, I was still relatively young, and being free would
still carry with it many possibilities...many future forks in
the road...achievements...maybe a doctorate...eventually a
position of real power and leadership...status...even fame,
perhaps....
The alternative would mean giving up all those wonderful
possibilities.
But remaining in servitude, submissive to the commands of my
keepers...my superiors...well, would that truly be so different?
After all, everybody was inferior to somebody, so why shouldn't
you choose to submit yourself to people who love you, and who will
discipline you for your improvement as well as for their pleasure?
And your pleasure, too, because it IS exciting....
Oh, god! I so needed to cum!
Well, I had a bit more than an hour and a half to decide....