Part 2 :  Read Apartment slavery - part 1

She arrived for supper on time; I had every thing done including a couple of chapters in the library books. I had the advantage of a year of massage therapy due to an on the job injury some time back.

There was no hello or acknowledgement of my existence from her just some muted cursing about the traffic and some idiot she had dealt with at work; more or less as if she was talking to herself.

I served her supper and stood next to her like a good waiter. She pointed at her laptop case sitting on a chair near the door and then at a spot on the table near her plate. I struggled with the latches and then set it where she had pointed. She gave me an impatient look, motioning for me to open the lid. I did and then stood back while she turned it on and began reading and typing while taking the occasional bite. After a while she began to rotate her neck as if trying to relieve stress. Without being ordered I placed my hands on her shoulders and began to massage her. She groaned with pleasure and continued to work while eating.

After finishing she motioned for me to follow her to the bedroom and indicated that she had to be undressed. I stripped her naked and when she looked down on her tits and then at my hands; I remembered and massaged them from behind the way she had done herself. Getting too close, my bulge touched her by mistake.

“You just lost a bonus point slave; control yourself, don’t ever rub your cock on me without permission.” I knew better than making excuses and fitted her robe then fastened the belt before fitting her slippers. She then left the room leaving me to put things away. She was sitting on the couch with her feet on a foot stool watching TV when I finished.

“Bring in my laptop and then clean up the kitchen; that done you’re dismissed until nine-thirty when you will run my bath. That’s all!” She spoke without looking at me waving me out of the room. “Oh wait a minute there’s a package in my briefcase with two communicators and the batteries, make them work and bring one in here.” I found the case and cut the two units out of their plastic Fort-Knox’ and installed the batteries. I brought her the laptop and the one unit. “If I say ‘testing’ in this thing, you just say OK and get in here pronto; never say anything else.” She waved me off.

“Very well mistress, as you wish.”

“There’s no need to reply when I dismiss you George, I’ve already told you that once! Just bow and leave.” I did and left for my chores trying mentally to control my semi. She either didn’t take notice of the bulge or didn’t want to.

About an hour later back in my apartment I heard ‘testing’ on the walkie-talkie; I said ‘OK’ and reported to my mistress.

“I’ll have tea and a couple cookies.” I bowed and went to the kitchen boiling the water and then found a serving tray with folding legs setting it where she could reach. She was watching TV and working on the laptop and picked up the cup tasting a zip. I bowed and turned to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going George?”

“I’m sorry I just thought.” She cut me off.

“You take orders George; I do the thinking here; on your knees slave!” I obeyed and watched her sip her tea and nibble at the cookies very slowly and deliberate while dividing her time between the TV and the computer during commercials. It must have been about fifteen minutes before she pointed at the empty cup and plate and waved my out.

I went back to my apartment and decided to study the massage books. Getting absorbed by the subject matter, I forgot about the time. The unit startled me with ‘testing’. I didn’t bother answering but rushed in and began to fill the tub. When done I walked in and informed my mistress that her bath was ready.

“I suppose you have an excuse George?”

“I’m very sorry but I was studying the books you ask me to read.”

“Silence slave,” she interrupted, “that’s three demerit points.” She rose and walked into the bathroom and stood there waiting for me to remove her robe. I hung it up, removed her slippers and then held her arms guiding her into the tub. She pointed at the floor next to the tub and I fell to my knees waiting for her to soak. She stood up after about ten minutes, letting me soap her. She didn’t want to wear the robe after I dried her; I draped it over my arm and guided her luscious naked body to the bedroom. She got on the bed right away on her back with her eyes closed while I stood waiting getting a huge bone on. “Alright, let’s see what you have learned from those books.”

I began to work on her body starting at her feet then up those soft fleshy thighs her stomach and breasts.

“There’s no tension in my knockers, pervert!” I apologized and continued with her neck and arms. She turned over and I worked her body especially her thick thighs and globular cheeks while breathing deeply, sporting a huge hard on.

She never opened her eyes or gave me any indication that she enjoyed it. When I thought it was enough I stood back and waited worried now that I would explode in my robe. She got out of bed and pointed at her robe. After I fitted it on her she went to the couch and I stood by her waiting with my bulge. You are dismissed for the evening George; I’ll ask you tomorrow night if you jerked off.” She shook her head with a fierce look in her eyes. I got the message loud and clear and bowed, leaving with my rod ready to burst.

Its one thing to see a beautiful woman you can’t have but to see her naked, wash and then massage her juicy flesh is murder. I had made one mistake and she cut me off or I assume she did, maybe it wasn’t her night anyway. Fortunately there was an interesting science program on PBS and I got my mind off her flesh for a while.

That was a tough night most of it spend with a hard on and not much sleep. Up until yesterday I had accepted life without a woman and masturbated but now that I had some real sex and with a young beautiful woman at that, everything was different. She had me by the balls and I’d do anything to please her.

I got her up in the morning, fed and dressed her with no errors. She left for work as before without saying a word. I might as well just be a chair or a table to her, except when she decided to reward me, then I became at least a used human. I spend the entire day doing things for her; going to the laundry-mat, not the least embarrassed by what I was washing and drying. I wouldn’t have been caught dead in the past washing women’s underwear in public. I scrubbed the floors, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom until every thing sparkled even though it wasn’t on the schedule.

I also got time to read a few more chapters, hoping of course to make my skills irresistible.

I undressed her as soon as she got home and fitted her robe and slippers. I relieved the stress of the brassiere in her tits with both hands like yesterday but I might as well have been a robot; there were no signs on her face conceding to my existence. After she ate her supper that surpassed my own gourmand standards she turned to look me in the eyes.

“What is it George you look nervous; did you jack off last night?” Her stare became fierce like my sergeant grilling me at booth camp.

“No mistress I did not.” Her eyes bored right into my brain. She clicked a few keys on the laptop, while I stopped breathing, and then concluded the interrogation.

“Alright I believe you,” I let out a deep sigh of relief. She then gave me a stiff uncommitted smile, “I’ll have the usual in the living room.” I brought in her coffee, the laptop and the Walkie-talkie, and then turned on the TV, leaving the remote where she could reach and dropped to my knees. When finished drinking she pointed at the cup and waved me off.

I finished my chores in the kitchen and returned to her side on my knees. She waited about five minutes and then waved me off. “Nine-thirty George do you think you can remember?”

“Yes mistress, I got up and bowed deeply and left for my apartment. I was so nervous that I walked the floor for hours and there was no call for tea like yesterday. By nine O’clock I was soaked with sweat; I took a shower and stood looking at the clock until nine-thirty.

I ran her bath and washed her body; while I was drying her she looked at my bulge. I heard your shower running before, why?”

“I was sweaty, mistress.”

“Why in the world would you be sweaty at this hour?”

“Nerves mistress I was walking the floor all evening.” There was no point lying to her and it made no difference; she had an agenda controlling me and thrived on my desperation for her body.

“So you think you’ll get it tonight George?” She smiled that noncommittal smile of hers.

“I’m your slave mistress I can only hope,” she grasped my bulge for a moment making me gasp and then put on that, you don’t exist face again, while I finished drying her. She didn’t want to wear the robe and let me guide her naked body to the bedroom. My cock was straining in my robe. I looked down watching her tits quiver as we walked. She sat down on the edge of the bed and kneaded her breasts ignoring my existence for a while.

“Disrobe slave,” she spoke slowly without looking at me. I hung my robe on a chair and waited standing there with an iron hard erection. “I suppose you would like to massage my body slave,” her words came out throaty while she stood up and stroked her stomach and thighs and then ran her fingers through her bush.

“Of course mistress, you’re word is my command, I was breathing sporadically by now, my cock ready to explode. She sat down again and motioned me close. My cock was now a few inches from her face. She looked up at me licking her lips.

“Your cock look delicious slave, may I suck on it?”

“My mistress does not have to ask,” I began to tremble in frustration as my cock throbbed wildly pulling back the foreskin half way.

“Come now George why is your knob not exposed, aren’t you horny?” I strained, gasping and jerking my pelvis doing the impossible as the foreskin slipped behind the knob. She reached for my bag with one hand and fondled it gently for an eternity and teasingly licked knob while her other hand grasped my shaft frigging it ever so slowly. I exploded in her mouth groaning ecstatically as she gulped down my load; making the savouring, um sounds of someone relishing a gourmet meal. I could barely stand with the rush as she sucked almost desperately and then smacked and licked her lips. I couldn’t believe it, she actually feasted on my semen; my mistress was a connoisseur of cum. I had always thought that if women really did suck men off, they would spit it out and gargle after.

She got on the bed lying flat on her back with her eyes closed still licking her lips while breathing deeply, almost as she was savouring a climax. Was it possible that she would never let me have actual intercourse with me? Did this woman have some kind of a semen fetish? I waited probably ten minutes before she turned over on her stomach. I took that as an order to begin her massage. I did her entire body and then waited but she didn’t turn over so I repeated the entire routine. This time she turned over with her eyes close; I took my time working every part, kneading stroking and tapping her delicious flesh. When I finished she finally spoke.

“Slave, tongue-bathe your mistress; do every inch of my body but never touch my face!” That must have been in a chapter I didn’t read yet, but how could I go wrong and how could I not relish such a job. I loved her body and starting with her toes nearly all of her entire body was now mine to kiss and lick. It must have been a half hour before I covered everything. I even took a chance and began to lick and suck her tits with no complaints; leaving only her face and crotch the latter I assumed was last. I was right she finally pointed at the floor and then arranged her body at the edge with her fleshy thighs spread wide.

She had been still during the entire licking session but now on my knees I watched her pelvis rock and heard her breathing become laboured, even before my lips made contact. She raised her ass displaying her anus; at this point nothing surprised or turned me off. I played my tongue in her rose until she lowered her ass again and dug her fingers into my hair forcing my lips and tongue into her wet cunt. She gasped and threw her legs around me, her heels pounding my back, as I sucked and licked in her delicious crack. She came quickly moaning loudly and then pushed me away and rolled on her back. I sat there on my knees watching her at first nearly gasping for breath; that invitingly beautiful body her chest and stomach heaving. My cock began to throb as she lay there being beautiful and unattainable, unless she issued an order.

I lost track of time, it was maybe half an hour before she opened her eyes turned her head and looked at my stiff cock with an indifferent expression. She said nothing closed them again and spread her thighs wide, lifting her pelvis slightly several times. I didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry mistress but is that a signal for intercourse?”

“Quiet slave, you are spoiling the moment…but yes; get on with it!” Finally, I carefully mounted her and fitted my cock into her unbelievable tight cunt for the first time. I gasped and sighed with pleasure, very slowly working it into the hilt. “Good slave but now stop, don’t you dare move unless I order you to and don’t hold your weight on your elbows.” I let go resting my full weight on her body while kissing her neck and shoulder; that was new for me all I heard in my marriage was: you’re too heavy! I lay there my cock throbbing inside her body; incredibly her cunt began to throb squeezing and nearly jerking my cock. He arms and legs wrapped around me holding me with incredible strength while her pelvis jerked and her cunt performed magic tricks inside. My cock was being jerked and squeezed in an unbelievable manner. Then suddenly she rolled us both over and she rode me like a bronco, a new position for me; this woman had to be in charge.

“Now slave! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! I matched her motions in the most incredible sex act I had ever experience, of course having only experienced a motionless wife maybe this was normal. She climaxed moaning loudly, rolling off and in a wink had my cock in her mouth jerking it violently with one hand while the other tickled my balls until my load splashed into her mouth and was gulped down her insatiable throat.

She stretched out next to me licking her lips and teeth again as if she was savouring every drop of cum.

“Get a damp towel slave!” I rushed to the bathroom running the tap for a while not wanting demerit points for using cold water. Returning I carefully towelled her entire body, starting with the neck. She moved to accommodate me, spreading her thighs wide, lifting her arms and turning over until every square inch of her beautiful fleshy body was refreshed. I took my time savouring every second but all good things come to an end, I tucked her in and stood up, getting a closed eyed turn of her head meaning: get out.

After cleaning everything up I walked to my apartment feeling like a sex machine should feel after a successful performance. It was of course her performance; I was merely a vending machine she operated to satisfy her craving for semen; her order the coin, me the dispenser and my semen the selection.

I read an article once, about a rich man who paid lactating mothers to bottle their milk for him. He believed it would keep him young or some other benefit for his health. I wondered if she had a similar reason or was it just a fetish. Whatever it the reason I was the benefactor regardless of my slave status.

She blew me again in the morning before leaving and I got to work to make sure that no demerit points would accumulate.

As the days and weeks went by I made very few mistakes. She always managed to find something however but the penalties were always applied against me having intercourse with her or even eating her out; never against the blowjobs which became regular twice a day and three or four times on weekends if she was there. She of course sensed that coitus was my ultimate goal; a bonus awarded no more than three times a week. It became easier after a few weeks to contain my lust while washing, dressing or undressing her and the undies became just clothing.

Getting my hands on her in a sexual way was another story and she knew it. Sometimes after massaging her she would lie there for a long time breathing deeply undulating her body, then spread her thighs slightly, raise her pelvis but then slam her thighs together meaning no sex for George. Occasionally she would do that three of four times while I stood there naked sporting a huge bone desperate to jump her, only to get that sideways head nod or hand wave, meaning get out. A couple of times she changed her mind and called me on the walkie-talkie. After the first time I made sure to place that item close by on her night table.

"When I did get to screw her she would go wild and I wondered why she didn’t want it more often. Though eventually I reasoned that the wilder her performance the sooner she would get to savour my mouth-watering ejaculation.

Another way she allowed penetration sex was doggie style; the first time she got in that position I just stood there and she had to shout “Get on with it; fuck me slave!” That was a first time position for me. I began to realise that she was as addicted to swallowing my semen as I was desperate for her body. She needed it as much as I needed her but I was the slave.

No matter what position or what kind of sex we had, she never allowed me to kiss her on the lips or face. Like she said from the start; there would never be anything personal or intimate about our relationship, we were master and slave with only one purpose: her sexual gratification. My pleasure was incidental and except for the blow jobs had to be earned.

I studied the massage books in my cozy little tower room until I knew them by heart before returning them to the library. My days were full keeping her apartment spotless, the laundry, the shopping and her meals. I borrowed some cook book and made sure that all her meals were gastronomic delights.

For someone who had never given women’s fashion a thought; I learned to select her daily attire without ever getting a complaint. Her whole life was her career; everything else was taken care of by me.

From the time she came home in the evening until she left in the morning the only decision she had to make was when and how often she wanted sex. I of course provided that for her; most of the time without a word being spoken. We were like actors in a silent movie without the exaggerated facial expression. Her body language told me how she wanted to be serviced and I would then perform like a trained monkey. That’s what I was, except I never uttered a sound. I was more like a shadowy figure she did not pay attention to except for the blow jobs. Even that was just a routine for her, like taking medicine for a cold. After breakfast I would open my robe and stand near her chair trying not to have an erection. She would turn when ready and blow me while expertly fondling my balls sometimes scratching the sensitive area near my anus even fingering my rose, anything to get and swallow her medicine as quickly as possible.

there was no need for me to wash after; her lips and tongue cleansed, sterilized and vacuumed my cock spic and span by the time she was done. After she savoured the taste for a while, her eyes closed almost trancelike while licking her lips and sucking her teeth before she got up to wash her hands. She actually brushed her teeth as soon as she got up, not after blowing me.

I towelled her hands and then fit whatever coat and shoes the outside temperature required. Lastly I packed up the laptop and hand it to her with the briefcase. She always left without saying a word or making eye contact. After closing the door behind her I had time to sit down for a while and savour my climax before getting to work earning my benefits and those all important bonuses.

There was no use speculating on how long this reality show would last and I tried not to think about it. Every new day to me was just one more day of sexual gratification, provided I had no demerit points. With her dominant and bitchy personality no one in her age group would probably ever marry her, so my earthly paradise could possibly last until I got too old to perform Eventually maybe with the help of those little blue pills; or not.

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