Shameless

by Mary Teen

  Over the next week, I watched them from a distance, living what appeared to be an ordinary life, kissing each other goodbye in the morning, as they took separate vehicles to work, then returning home in the same way. If she only knew about me and what happened that night, I thought, and that she likely participates in some fun with her husband. Would she accept me as his toy or challenge Jim for what he did?

  Working in the area convenience store gave me access to most people in the neighborhood, including Jim and his wife. They both appeared happy to see me, his wife apologizing for having to leave for work, while her husband remained quiet and compliant.

  "Oh, it's no bother at all, " I responded. "The lasagna was delicious. She smiled approvingly, then offered to reschedule lunch or tea in the afternoon, which I cautiously accepted. Returning to their home was oddly exciting, though Emily wasn't. Unlike Jim, there was no deviant behavior observed, only complaints about Jim storing too many antiques, and going to the extent of locking rooms upstairs to "preserve" their condition, allowing no air or sunlight in. Damn, I thought, she really didn't know anything about his secret kinks!

  After a pleasant yet boring lunch with Stefanie, Jim's wife, I was curious if he would approach me. Would he ask me if I told his wife about our strange encounter, or assume my shame would keep me quiet? I had no shame, but I also wished to keep his secret. Maybe, I hoped he would invite me again.

  Another week passed by, and Jim appeared in the front yard, waving at me. I was watering the flowers when he unexpectedly showed up. I wore cut off jean shorts and a loose tank top. It was a hot day outside, and I couldn't drink enough water to stay hydrated.

  "Hi there, neighbor, are your parents home?" I thought it strange he asked about my parents, but I decided to play along.

  "They are out of town for the day, at an auction and market. I can tell them you dropped by." He smiled, looking at me like he did that night, and approached me closer.

  "We should have another whirl at it, what do you think?" His voice was almost a whisper, but loud enough for me to hear. Any unaccompanied visits to his home without my parents and with his wife gone would raise suspicion and rumors, wouldn't it? If I accepted an offer, it would need to be discreet and careful. No one can suspect anything.

  Another whirl? That's what he called it. I wanted to know what more he had in store for me before accepting another visit but wasn't not knowing a part of the experience?

  "I….I might consider it," I offered, playing a bit hard to get. If I refuse, would he leave me alone or stalk me? Would I ever live down what happened the first time in his mind and my own? If no one else knows, we'll remain as the regular people we pretend to be, without any worry or suspicion.

  "Good," he responded. "I sure hope you decide to accept.” He left just then, without using any means to lure me back, and at that moment, I knew I could refuse, or so it seemed. Jim was creepy, and I didn’t want to avoid him too much, or he may become more visible. If his wife didn’t know, it could be used as leverage, though I didn’t want to play any crazy games unless it was necessary. Still, a part of me was interested in exploring more of what Jim had in mind for me, and what he would do if I visited him again. For now, I would keep my distance and observe, just in case things went sour. Jim and Stefanie were too close for my liking, and I preferred my adventures to be in another place with strangers. Men I wouldn’t see again, so there would be no worries of getting caught, even if I did want to relive some of those experiences.

  Jim didn’t hound me or drop by my home for at least one week. This was a relief. I considered asking a boy out at school, who recently showed some interest in me. His name was Damian, and he had no idea about my sexual escapades. A part of me pitied him because if he knew, he might run away. He was sweet and caring, the complete opposite of all my experiences. If I chose to date him, I would keep the charade going as a distraction, and the very thought of doing this was a bit of a shock. Would I be so deviant and devious to do such a thing? I decided that Damian, like my parents, school friends, and neighbors, didn’t need to know. I would simply continue to explore on my own and enjoy my deviant adventures under the radar.

  Another week passed, and I barely saw Jim and his wife, except for their quick greetings in passing. I was confused and didn’t want to push the secret invitation by approaching Jim, though I did find him flashing me a smile when he caught me shopping for groceries on Saturday afternoon. He almost blocked me in the aisle where I was selecting some tomato paste.

  “Nice to see you here,” he mentioned, smiling as if he was excited to see me again. I wanted to turn around and leave, and at the same time, his smile and secret deviance intrigued me. I wanted more, and at the same time, I wasn’t sure why he was so keen on me. Did he know more about me than I did? Should I be paranoid or worried?

  “Um, hi,” I managed, becoming fidgety and nervous. Maybe he liked that, thinking it gave him power over me somehow. Power or control that he could not exert over her, but felt effortless to use on me as if he cast a spell.

  “Have you considered continuing our little secret fun?” he proposed, inching towards me. I could feel his breath on me then and instantly felt wet inside as he spoke. Before I could answer, he must’ve known my answer would be yes. Later that night, he explained that his wife would work late, and if I was able to “drop by” before heading to work in the convenience store, he would indulge me with more dominance. I was ready to return to the dungeon with Jim.

  When I arrived at the house, all the curtains in the windows were drawn, concealing the inside of the house. I did as I was told, wearing no bra or panties under my clothes. There were two hours to play. I expected Jim to lead me upstairs, but he had other plans, handing me yet another box.

  “If you accept your role as my occasional, submissive slut, consider this your first lesson in becoming my pet,” he explained. He was smiling, but serious and kind. I wanted to play and took it seriously. Inside the box was a sexy cat costume, complete with whiskers, ears, a buttplug tail, and a skimpy outfit, complete with cutouts for my breasts and at the short tutu-like skirt to display by the bare ass. I was ordered to change in front of Jim, who I now referred to as “sir.” I was to remain on all fours, and listen, obey every word that he said. The tasks were simple and humiliating, but I wanted more, knowing that I could eventually seduce him to take me fully, entirely as his lover.

  Two bowls were laid out in front of me, one with fresh salmon, the other, with milk. I was asked to crawl to one bowl, then the other, where I would partake of each, eating like his pet kitty. Shoving my face into the bowl of salmon, I picked up the fishy flesh with my teeth, gobbling it down like a hungry cat, then I moved over to the bowl of cream, lapping it up with my tongue, curved like a spoon. As Jim observed me, he unzipped his pants, ready to play. He produced a whip, just like before, in case I was going to act like his naughty whore, or simply for his own fun. If I spilled milk or dropped a sliver of fish, I’d receive a swift slap on the ass cheeks, a sting that caused me to squirm and squeak. If I was good, I could lie by his feet as he sat to read a book in his study or living room. Two hours were spent quickly, and we soon made a habit of this dominant-submissive play once each week. Sometimes I was a cat or a bird or a dog. He seemed to enjoy the various costumes he provided me to wear, watching my reaction in opening the box every time. As I became accustomed to the whip, I could take the paddle then, or his backhand, which I enjoyed much more because the more he slapped me, the quicker I came, and always made a mess. The sticky mess all over the floor, and his cum on the tip of his dick, always required my tongue to lick it all up and thanking him submissively for his cum. Every week, we met and explored this fun adventure, and I had to earn my position as his little slutty sub, keeping him hard and taking his cream, while doing everything he asked me to do, regardless of how humiliating or embarrassing it would have seemed.

  We could have continued for years, though one day, I noticed Jim and Stefanie were gone. All
their belongings packed up and removed. My heart sank, thinking of how long we could have lasted under continued under everyone’s noses. I later learned that Jim had a job offer that was twice his current salary, and his wife and he agreed to move. I always knew it wouldn’t last, and while it didn’t his lessons would always continue in my mind and add to my collection of sexually deviant adventures.