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From: augsept@pathfindermail.com
Subject: ASSM Coerced - continued by a new author
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WARNING: This story contains strong sexual themes. It is intended as a
work of fiction for ADULTS ONLY, and the author does not in any way
suggest, encourage, or condone similar behavior.
This is a work of fiction. It is made up. It is NOT real. Any and all
resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. All names are
fictitious. This work is to be read by PERSONS 18 OR OLDER ONLY where
such topics are not against the law. By reading further you acknowledge
that you may legally read this type of material.
If stories of sexual behavior offend you, please GO SOMEWHERE ELSE.
Background:
Kathy B. has graciously allowed me to continue her saga
"COERCED". I
am starting with the last eight paragraphs she wrote. Her original text
will be within < > characters.
Coerced - continued
By August
Original text by Kathy B.
< Sheila came home as I was putting the mower away. She was pleased
with the way I’d spent my day.
"Nice job on the lawn, Charlene. > Come in the house and have a drink
before you go home."
"I’d rather not, Mrs. Winters. I’m not really thirsty and I’d just like
to get home. If I can just use your phone to call Mark and have him
pick me up, I like to go."
"Who the fuck asked you what you’d like?" Sheila screamed. "I told you
to come in the house and have a drink, and you will do what you are
told. These are not requests Charlene, they are orders. And for
questioning them, I think you should walk home."
Lowering my head I walked toward the house. I guess I could use
something to replenish the fluids I’d lost cutting the lawn - especially
if I was going to have to walk home.
Once in the kitchen I went to sink to get a glass of water.
"Now what the fuck are you doing?" Sheila asked.
"Getting the drink you told me to get."
"First, get the bikini off. Second, I never said anything about water.
Get a cocktail glass out of the cupboard and then get a bottle of
scotch. And not the good stuff. The cheap stuff is plenty good for a
cunt like you."
Stripping off the bikini I tried to explain that I didn’t drink hard
liquor. "I don’t normally drink and I never drink scotch and I know
you’re not supposed to drink after exercising. May I please just have
some water?"
"Christ, you’re a pain. How about if I let you mix it with something?
Will that make you feel better?"
"Yes, please. That would help."
"Fine. Put some water on and you can have some tea. While it’s
heating, you can just sit there on the floor." Sheila them grabbed the
paper, sat at the table and started reading.
The linoleum felt cold against my naked ass, but that was actually
refreshing. I guess cutting the lawn had had more of an affect on me
than I thought.
Sheila didn’t say a word to me while I sat there with my legs crossed.
After few minutes, I noticed that my legs were starting to cramp up.
Walking on grass in heels is not easy and my legs were paying the
price. Just as I was stretching out my legs to rub them out the tea pot
started to shriek for attention.
Moaning as I started to pull my stiff legs under me to stand, I was
relieved to hear Sheila say, "Stay there. I’ll mix the tea." With that
she got up, walked to the end cupboard and, reaching way in the back,
pulled out a fancy box. I recognized it as the box that had the tea I’d
had earlier was in. For some reason, I was going to get the good stuff.
Looking back, I should have been suspicious. But to finally have
something nice was comforting.
As the tea steeped, the aroma filled the air with a fragrance that made
my mind just drift, with no particular destination. I forgot about the
pain in my legs and just enjoyed it.
I was yanked back to reality as Sheila called my name and handed me a
mug (why not a cup?) of tea. "Drink up slut. And I had better not hear
any more complaints."
The smell of the scotch was unmistakable as I took my first sip.
Strong. It was very strong. It had to one part scotch to 3 parts tea.
After only a few minutes my head started to swim.
Sheila’s command to "drink it down" forced me to gulp the remainder of
the mug down and Sheila poured another for me. This time I watched and
it looked like I was right in my 1 to 3 guess.
As I finished the second mug, I could tell that I was in no condition to
go anywhere. My head was light and I had a detached feeling. It was
just like that night, was it only three weeks ago, I baby sat Sheila’s
children.
"OK Charlene, you can go home now."
I struggled to my feet, wavering back and forth, as I picked up my
bikini and went to change into something more appropriate for walking
home.
< "Just a minute. Where do you think you’re going?"
I looked at her confused. "I was going to change before I called Mark
to pick me up. > I can’t walk home in this state. I can barely
stand."
< "I didn’t give you permission to use my phone and you don’t need to
change. You’re going to need that outfit tomorrow anyway. Start
walking."
"But you can’t expect me to walk home like this," I protested.
"Then stay here. I really don’t care." Sheila turned on her heel and
entered > the living room.
Sighing I struggled into my bikini top. With my head the way it was, I
could barely get it fastened. The bottoms were even worse. In fact, I
caught the heel of my shoes on my bottoms and fell, hard, to the floor.
I was finally able to pull them on while laying on the cool linoleum.
Staggering to my feet, using the counter for support, I headed out the
door and started my walk home.
End of chapter 8. Do I continue? (remove the 2 from my email address
to contact me at "2august@hotmail.com"
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