Meter Man

by Tyd Up

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© Copyright 2005 - Tyd Up - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; cons; X

Meter Man by Tyd Up

"Meter Man!"

"Meter reader!"

Bill figured that he had given enough notice. No dogs were barking so he used his key and went in. The meter was in the basement. A light was on in the basement, but no one was moving around.

At the base of the stairs a door led to the utility portion of the basement. Bill opened it and stopped dead.

"Hi," the woman said and blushed. This was very evident since she was naked and standing with her arms and legs spread wide.

"Hi," Bill replied and stood, looking at her, waiting for her to move. After she did not he tore his eyes away from her breasts and saw that she was chained in place.

"Do you need help?" he asked, unsure why a naked woman would not be screaming for help.

"No, I'm fine."

"I'm here to read the meter," it sounded lame, even to him. His brain still was not working properly. Naked women did that to him.

"It's over there," she gestured with her head.

He walked around her, ignoring the meter. The woman's arms were chained to eyebolts in the ceiling. The bolts were several feet apart so that her arms were at a 45 degree angle. Similar bolts were set in the floor keeping her legs spread. The chains holding the woman were tight - not so tight that they held her off the floor, but there was no slack. She could only swing her arms an inch or so, back and forth.

It finally came to him that she was not completely naked. A chain went around her waist and more chains led between her hips. These were locked in place, also. In addition, a chain went between her breasts, attached to clamps on her nipples.

"Do you want me to let you loose?" he asked.

"No, I'm ok."

"Do you do this sort of thing often?" Bill was still walking around the woman.

"Not often enough, although I don't usually spend the day like this. Usually this is a bedtime thing."

"So you're into bondage?"

She gave a nervous laugh and rattled her chains, "You could say that."

"No, I meant, is that how you do sex?"

"As often as we can. We also use it for punishments."

"Punishments? He does things like this when you are 'bad'?"

"Yeah. Usually it's just part of the game. I'm 'bad' and I get punished by being tied and teased. It's all part of sex. This time was different. I really was bad so my husband said I had to spend the day like this. He said that bondage gets boring after a while with no one around so this really would be punishment."

"So is it working?"


"What did you do that was so bad?"

"None of your business."

"You're sure you don't want me to let you down?"

"I'd be in a lot of trouble if he came home and I wasn't still down here."

"I could let you down for a break and fasten you back up later."

"You're sweet, but you couldn't do it anyway. My husband has the keys."

"Well, anything else I can do for you."

"If you don't mind, there are a few things."


"Well, first of all, I'm thirsty. Could I have a drink?"

Bill ran back upstairs and found a sports cup with a built-in straw. He filled this with ice water and brought it back down for her. She drank about half the container gratefully.

"Anything else?"

"Oh God, this is embarrassing. Now that I've had all that water I have to pee."

"I don't see what I can do about that."

"No, I'll have to go right here. It's just that... could you clean it up after? You know, wash it down the drain?"

"Ok. You go ahead and go. I'll be right back."

He went back to the kitchen and got a bucket. He filled it with water and cleaner. When he got back downstairs there was a puddle between the woman's legs. He poured some water on the floor to wash the puddle down the drain. Then he bent down behind her.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You splattered yourself. You don't want to get a rash," he replied.

Taking a sponge, he wet it in the pail and started washing her ankles. She kind of purred as he ran the warm, wet sponge over her ankles. He moved higher.

"Hey, I didn't get any splatter there."

"Yes you did,"

She started to struggle, but it made no difference. He barely noticed. When he got above her knees her struggles changed. Her crotch was moist from other things than urine. As he cleaned it, she spread her knees wider (he wouldn't have thought it possible) and bucked her hips. Through the sponge he could feel the chains leading between her legs. They held plugs in place within her vagina and rectum. As with her other chains, these were locked in place. There would be no unauthorized sex with those in place. 

He watched her buck for a minute before taking away his hand. She continued to work her hips for a time, but could not get enough friction to come. Finally she quit with a whimper.

"Anything else I can do for you?" he asked.

"My shoulders are getting stiff. Would you mind?"

"Not at all."

He started massaging her shoulders, working the tired muscles. He worked his way up her arms and back down to her back. He could feel her relax beneath his fingers.

"Something else," she asked. "These nipple clamps are getting kind of old. Could you take them off for a while?"


Still behind her, he reached around and pulled on the connecting chain. It did not come off and she started.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He squeezed the handle of one of the clamps to open it. She inhaled sharply.

"Oh, God, it hurts when they come off," she danced around as much as she was able (not much), shaking her breast.

"Here," he took her breast in his hand and began massaging the nipple. "Does that help?"

"Oh, yes!"

Bill removed the other clamp and used his other hand to massage that nipple. He took her breasts in his hands. They were full and well-formed and felt good in his hands. She leaned her head backwards against his chest and moaned.

"Oh, Bill. Get me out of this rig and take me to bed."

"Sorry, dear, I left the keys in my business suit. You can't get out until your 'husband' comes home from work tonight. Besides, you ARE supposed to be punished."

"You're really going to leave me here for the day?" she asked.

"You came up with the scenario - even the position," he pointed out.

"Don't go," she pleaded as he took away his hands.

"Sorry," he told her, resuming character, "But I have other meters to read."

He picked up the clamps and reattached them to her nipples. She groaned but did not complain.

"One last thing," he told her. He produced a vibrator - one of the ones that strapped on the hand - and strapped it to the chains between her legs. "I'm going to plug this into a random timer. If you're lucky it will come on a few times before your 'husband' gets home."

In fact, it came on almost immediately. She began working her hips again, oblivious to the world around her.

"Good bye," he called out as he went upstairs.

"Damn," he thought as he locked the door. "I forgot to read the meter. I guess I'll have to come back tomorrow."

Note – although aspects of this story were inspired be real protests, this story is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events are fictional and any similarity with real events is coincidental.
This work copyright 2004. It may be redistributed freely as long as it is not altered and no money is charged.
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