Enslaved (34 page)

'I'm afraid she's out, Marianne. Do you want to come in and wait?'

'Yes, if you don't mind.'

'Juxtaposition.'

Stunned as she fell into a trance, Marianne stood on the door step, her hands trembling, her heart racing as she fell into a hypnotic trance. Natalie, obviously, had told her husband about the trigger word.
No one can be trusted
, she thought fearfully, wondering what Ian was going to do as he invited her into the house. Following him into the lounge, she stood in the centre of the room, her short dress catching Ian's eye as he sat in an armchair gazing at her.

'So, the trigger word
does
work!' he smiled. 'When Nat told me all about it, I laughed. I thought you were having her on with all this hypnosis stuff. Anyway, she trusts me. She told me that she trusts me - poor cow! I told her that I'd never be unfaithful to her. I said that I'd never mention the word to you and do anything underhand. It's fanny how things turn out. She's away for the day and I was just thinking,

Wouldn't it be great if I could get hold of Marianne and use the trigger word!
Anyway, your timing's perfect! There's a sink full of washing-up, the house needs vacuuming and dusting, the bed has to be made, and there's a pile of ironing to be done . . . Nat told me to do it all while she's out, but you can do it for me!'

Wondering why he was only going to use her as a housekeeper, Marianne bit her lip, praying that the day would come when she was free of the word - free of the people who only wanted to use her for their own satisfaction. 'There is one thing,' Ian began. 'I like my chargirls to go about their chores naked. Take your clothes off, Marianne!'

Her hands mechanically slipping her minidress off and her feet kicking her shoes aside, Marianne stood completely naked before her young master. 'You've shaved your cunt!' he gasped in disbelief. 'My God, you've shaved your cunt. Come here and show me.' Walking towards Ian, Marianne stood with her feet apart, her full pussy lips smooth and hairless, her pink inner lips protruding unashamedly. 'You look like a bloody schoolgirl! You must be a dirty little bitch, shaving your cunt like that! I'm going to enjoy today. In fact, this is going to be the best day of my life! Before I fuck you, get on with the housework. Start with the washing up. I'll follow you around, watching you as you do the work, watching your tits, your tight bum - your schoolgirl cunt. OK, into the kitchen and get started - slave!'

Walking through the hall to the kitchen, Marianne stood at the sink, confronted by a pile of dirty dishes and plates. Beginning her first chore as Ian stood behind her, cupping and squeezing her taut, smart buttocks in his grasping hands, she thought of Barry. He'd be cursing again, whining, not knowing that his girlfriend was next door, naked. As Ian's finger slipped between Marianne's thighs and toyed with her bulging pussy lips, she gasped. Her insatiable clitoris stirring yet again, she desperately needed the relief that orgasm brought.
God, I'm a filthy whore!
she thought as her womb contracted and her elongated nipples hardened.

She'd been aware of her clitoris, her flowing cuntal juices, since she'd first thought of masturbating with one of.Barry's vibrators earlier that morning. Now, as Ian's finger penetrated her tight sex, she craved orgasm. 'The sooner you've done the housework, the sooner you can have my cock up your wet cunt,' Ian breathed in her ear as he kneaded the cushioned walls of her wet vaginal sheath.

All men are the same!
Marianne decided as Ian massaged a breast, twisting and pulling on her erect milk bud. But Marianne herself was as bad! Delighting at using her young body for sex, she was as bad, or as good, as any man! Slipping his finger from her tight cunt-hole, Ian turned Marianne round. Facing her master, her hands wet and soapy, she remained still as he cast his eyes over her pert breasts.

'You've a good body!' he breathed, his eyes lowering to the slight swell of her stomach. Gazing at her shaved mound, her swelling cunt lips, he grinned. 'Let's not worry about the housework now. You've got all day for that! But I can't wait all day for your tight cunt. Now, where shall I have you? Yes, over the kitchen table! Natalie would never allow me to do her over the table! For that matter, she won't allow me to do her anywhere! OK, bend over, my lovely, and bare your cunt in readiness for the fucking of your life!'

Following her master's instructions, Marianne bent over the table, her pussy lips bulging below her rounded buttocks as she rested her head on the tablecloth. 'I wish Nat was more into sex!' Ian complained. 'Bloody hell, if I could get her to do this sort of thing, I wouldn't be screwing her sister on the side!'

There s a turn-up for the books!
Marianne thought as Ian slipped his stiff penis out and ran his knob up and down her wet cunt-crack.
I could always blackmail him!
But, she realized, all the time Ian was able to use the word, she was under his power. There was no point in blackmailing her master! He'd put her through sexual hell if she were to try to blackmail him! Sexual bliss, more like!

Poor Natalie!
Marianne mused as Ian's bulbous knob slipped between her pouting cunt lips and sank into the welcoming warmth of her tight vaginal canal. But, she reflected, while Ian was away, Natalie had screwed his friend!
They're as bad as each other!
she concluded as Ian's knob came to rest against her creamy-wet cervix.
And I'm worse than the lot of them!

'Ah, that feels good!' Ian breathed as he began his slow fucking motions. 'You like my prick up your tight cunt, don't you, Marianne?'

'Yes, I do,' she whimpered as her clitoris throbbed.

'Where else would you like my prick? In your mouth, perhaps?' he asked.

'Up my bum,' she replied - to her astonishment.

'Really? You're into that, are you?'

'Yes, I love it! I love having my arse fucked!'

Her words seemed to come from nowhere, bubbling from her pretty lips without her thinking.
What the hell am I saying?
she wondered as Ian slipped his penis out of her vagina and presented his wet knob to her anal entrance.
Oh, my God! I'm no better than a dirty little slut!
Her vile confession echoing around the murky depths of her racked mind, she grimaced as Ian slid his knob past her sphincter muscles and into the fiery heat of her rectal sheath.

'Ah, God!' Ian gasped as he drove his shaft deep into Marianne's anal canal. 'It's right in! Christ, if only Nat would let me fuck her arse! If only you could see your bum! God, your pretty brown hole's stretched wide open! Even Nat's sister won't let me fuck her arse! You must be a right little whore if you love having your bum fucked!'

I am a right little whore!
Marianne reflected. Having had five penises sperming up her bum the previous evening, she was hungry for anal sex, craved the sensation of an orgasming knob buried deep within her hot bowels. Again, she wondered where it would all end. Her new way of life had taken her to the very depths of sin.
I'll burn in the eternal fires of hell!
she thought fearfully, recalling the candles buried deep within her lust-holes as she had squatted on the church altar.
Is this selling my soul to the devil?

'Ah, I'm going to come!' Ian cried as he thrust his solid organ into her anal-sheath. 'God, I'm come ... coming! Oh, God! You're so tight, hot... ah, coming!'

Marianne felt the gushing sperm deep inside her pelvis as the anal shafting continued. Her body quivering uncontrollably as she reached between her thighs and massaged her glowing clitoris, she cried out in her coming. 'Harder! Fuck my arse harder!' Grabbing her hips, Ian drove his fleshpole into her tight tube, filling her bowels with his jetting spunk, using her naked body to satisfy his evil lust.

Hearing the front door close as the last of his sperm shot into Marianne's inflamed anal sheath, he quickly slipped his penis out of her luscious arse and zipped his trousers. 'Quick, get up!' he whispered loudly, pulling Marianne from the table. 'Fucking hell, she can't be back already! Get in there! Get in the cupboard and don't make a sound!'

Stepping into the large cupboard, Marianne remained silent as Ian quickly closed the door and greeted his young wife. 'Hallo, love! What... er... what are you doing back?' he asked, his voice shaky, riddled with guilt.

'I missed the train,' Natalie replied, dumping her bag on the table. 'The next one wasn't due for over an hour, so I decided to go another day.'

'Oh, I see. Er... why don't you go upstairs and change?'

'Change? What for?'

'Well, you don't want to wear your best clothes around the house, do you?'

'No, I suppose not. Are you all right, Ian? You look nervy, uneasy. Is everything all right?'

'Yes, of course it is! Go and change and I'll make you some tea.'

'All right. I won't be a minute.'

Dragging Marianne from the cupboard the minute Natalie was upstairs, Ian marched her into the lounge and ordered her to put her dress and shoes on. 'Hurry up, for fuck's sake!' he grunted as Marianne slipped into her dress and stepped into her shoes. 'Quick, get out of the house and don't come back!'

Walking to the front door, Marianne decided to come back as soon as she was in control of her body. She'd have coffee with Natalie, sit at the table gloating over Ian's guilt, delighting at his predicament as she dropped the odd hint. She couldn't be blamed, she mused. Natalie knew all about the trigger word, about the hypnosis - the blame would lie squarely on Ian's shoulders.

Opening the door and pushing Marianne outside, Ian told her to return to her normal waking state as soon as she heard the door close. He had no idea how to bring her out of her trance - all he could do was hope that she'd wake up and go home. Grinning as the door closed, Marianne waited for several minutes before ringing the bell, delighting at the prospect of dropping Ian in the shit.

'Oh, you're back! Hi, Natalie!' Marianne greeted her

neighbour as the pretty girl opened the door.

'Marianne! Yes, I've just this minute got home. Come in,' Natalie beamed, her blue eyes frowning as she glanced down at Marianne's thighs, the minidress barely concealing her girlhood.

'Thanks. Don't mind me popping round for a coffee, do you?'

'No, of course not! Come through to the kitchen,' she replied, leading the way through the hall. 'I like your dress. It's rather short, though.'

'Yes, it's too small for me, really. I was going to take it back but. . . Hallo
again
, Ian!' Marianne grinned as she entered the kitchen.

'Er... oh, Marianne! Er... how are you?' he stammered, his face flushing with guilt.

'I got locked out,' she said as she sat at the table.

'Locked out?' Natalie echoed. 'Have you lost your key?'

'No, locked out of
your
house! I came round to have a coffee with you earlier but you were out. Ian invited me in and... he was putting the kettle on, and then... I don't know what happened after that. I found myself out in the front garden so I rang the bell and you answered the door.'

'But I've only just got in!' Natalie frowned. 'You weren't in the garden when I arrived!'

'I'm just going up to the loo,' Ian said, moving quickly to the door and leaving the room.

When he'd gone, Natalie sat opposite Marianne and gazed into her wide eyes. Marianne knew what Natalie was thinking as she smiled at her friend - she knew that she'd ask about the trigger word.

'Did Ian use the trigger word?' Natalie asked outright.

'Trigger word? No, no, he didn't! Why do you ask?'

'Do you recall the things that you do while you're hypnotized?'

'Normally, yes. But not always - why?'

'I think Ian used the word, Marianne. You said that you came here to see me, and Ian let you in.'

'Yes, that's right. He was going to make the coffee and ... well, the next thing I knew, I was standing in your front garden!'

'How do you feel?'

'What do you mean?'

'Your... your body. Do you feel anything?'

'Actually, my bum really hurts, and ...' Her hand between her thighs, Marianne frowned. 'And I'm soaking wet!'

'What, your
bum
?' Natalie gasped, the colour draining from her cheeks.

'Yes! God, what's that white stuff coming out of my bum?' Marianne breathed, examining her sticky fingers. 'God, what the hell is it?'

7 know what it is, Marianne! It's sperm! Ian's sperm! The fucking little bastard!'

'Ian's ... but... the word, you told him about the word, didn't you?'

'Yes, but I didn't think that he'd ... I'll kill him!'

'And so will I! I'm going home to wash, Natalie. God, he must be some kind of pervert to . .. I'm going home!'

Leaving the house, Marianne concealed her wicked grin, imagining the row, Ian's futile denials, Natalie's hysterically screamed accusations. Natalie had seen the proof with her own eyes, she'd seen the sperm dripping from Marianne's fingers - her husband's sperm! Ian was a dead man!
And it serves him right!
Marianne thought as she walked down the street towards the park.
And it serves him bloody right!