Part 15: The New Deal
Dana called her parents while Gregory waited with us, and after a lengthy back and forth she got their permission for us to use their summerhouse as an off campus dorm to attend the local and much less expensive Cromwell University together. There would be conditions, but they would be announced later, the matter left open ended and really pissing Dana off, especially since her brother Peter's name had come up. She liked being in charge of things, this having somebody else, even if it was her parents, making rules for her, and by extension, us, was irritating for her.
"Was she not eighteen years old, an adult?" She asked us rhetorically, once off the phone. Tracy and I both publicly agreed, but in my case I silently thought that the ones actually paying the bills usually got to set the conditions. I had conditions of my own after my own phone call home; I could still attend the local community college near home if I wanted, with a borrowed family car to get there and back, or I could go into the workforce directly with a used car of my own as a graduation gift, paying my own way, so to speak. Going forward. I was grateful for either, my parents not having the material wealth that Dana's did, nor even the relative wealth of Tracy's. This third option of going to Cromwell might stretch my parents' budget, I realized, but they seemed to balance this by us girls staying together, ostensibly keeping each other out of trouble.
I had no intention of correcting this misconception, although it was absolutely surreal to be having this telephone conversation with them about "options" with few of my own, at least while naked and hobbled before all three of my quasi-captors...
Both girls had grown up with older siblings in need of an education first. Dana's brother Peter was three years into college, but only two years toward his degree, he having changed majors along the way, as I have since learned most do. Tracy had two older brothers, Tim, just out of school this year, and Frank, the same age as Peter, they on again off again best friends. Peter and Frank were both headstrong leaders, and this was the primary reason we girls thought they at times clashed. Dana and Peter were also very competitive with each other, I thinking privately that there must be something in both families genes, or perhaps even the water.
Both my friends as well had grown up with part-time maids, on and off, and I think this also played into the girls desire to keep all three of us together. I would be the de facto maid for both girls obviously, so they could ostensibly concentrate on their classes and homework, although I held no misconceptions as to who would be doing a bulk of that work as well. Neither of my friends were the least bit unintelligent, but motivating that intelligence toward mundane things like homework, let alone housework, was near impossible.
In a word, they could be lazy, but in their defense, they had been allowed to become that way. Looking back on this from the comfort of years past, they were also manipulative in finding ways to make me do the things they didn't want to. Such were the character traits of last born children, or so I had read in a psychology textbook once. The girls were grooming me to make their life away from home as easy as possible for themselves, whether they realized it or not.
I, for the most part, hadn't dwelled on the permanence of this commitment, but I should have. We had only - up to that point - played at our kinky games part time, really only a few hours of a handful of days, if one looked at things practically. This new deal was a twenty-four-seven three-sixty-five commitment, except for semester breaks, and I had no illusions as to who would be doing a bulk of the actual "doing" between us three.
The girls would make this kinky fun though, and away from friends and family, and well away from the main road and other people in general, that could get quite wild as there was no parental safety valve on their behavior. My pet cage and toys were proof of that, but I didn't know how often my pet alter ego would be making her appearance, or for that matter how often I would even be wearing clothes at all in my service to them.
I found myself looking forward to such things, I was willing - at the time- to do anything for the girls just to experience what they had in store for me, just to see where their unrestrained minds might lead me. To me it was an exciting social experiment: How dark and kinky could two loving dominant teen girlfriends get with their willing sub while sequestered from the moderating forces of other friends and family?
I asked this very question in my diary on reflex while the girls were busy getting ready to go to signups at the college, they each claimed a bathroom for themselves. I therefore had time to kill with Gregory while they did so, the girls not going anywhere public, I had told an unbelieving Gregory, without proper preening first. He, at first, didn't believe me when I told him this was the way things went with them. I, in uncharacteristically harsh terms, told him that it took time to look like the girls do.
Gregory was there with me though, so this was no hardship for me, just business as usual. So much so that he became like wallpaper to me, just something there that belonged, or perhaps better stated, something familiar and comfortable.
Gregory noticed the leather bound book that was my diary, noticed as well that I was writing in it, but suspiciously didn't ask me any details, or what the untitled book actually was. His eyes met mine overtop the pages, a pretty good trick as I was still just as naked as the day I was born, but Gregory seemed comfortable with my nudity now. After all, once you've had all the time in the world to study another's body in intimate detail, it likely just became what that person looked like to you. So was my assumption at any rate, but this was uncharted territory for me, with a man at any rate. I had yet to see Gregory just as naked though, but I could tell he was fit, although there was at least some circumstantial evidence that I could easily outrun him.
Gregory's conspicuously lacking curiosity told me something else too, that this diary of mine was no surprise, and that might even mean he had already read it, cover to cover, and had then been privy to my most secret secrets. "Could he possibly know what lay inside this book and I still make eye contact with him?" I asked myself. My most kinky dreams were in there, as were documentation of the crazy things we girls had done at the abandoned hospital. My offers to the girls lay hidden in there as well. "Take me, use me, and give me no choices" kinds of permissions, just to make it clear as to what I wanted from them, and to save their conscience if I should have a change of heart at some point in the future.
Should I suggest a contract between us in my diary, a contract of servitude? The strange thought popping into my head like magic. My diary expressed my desires, when kinked out and motivated, but there would be times when that were not the case, certainly many such times in the coming four years or so. "Did not the people paying the bills get to make the rules?" I was reminded of my own critical thoughts on the subject not two hours earlier, when Dana had just gotten off the phone with her family.
If I didn't offer up a contract of servitude, did this not make me a hypocrite?
The desire to do this contract became overwhelming for me, a "do this right now" kind of thing, lest something terrible happen should I not. I again made eye contact with Gregory, it was easy as he had not averted his eyes from seconds earlier. I then felt my mouth start to speak, startled at what I was hearing from it, as if it had a mind of its own.
"What do you know about contracts, Sir?" I asked, the subject broached, and there was no way to back out now.
"I have one with the college, it's how they hire adjunct professors. Why do you ask?"
"I think we may need one, this new deal here at Dana's summerhouse could become complicated." I had not clearly stated who "we" actually was though.
"Well, in the first part of mine it states who, or what entity, is entering into agreement with who. In my case it's Cromwell entering into a financial obligation with myself. In other words, I get X amount of money and benefits in exchange for teaching these specific classes to a certain standard. If I fail to perform to the standards set, or Cromwell fails to honor their end, the contract goes into dispute. From there it gets complicated, lots of clauses and conditions, who can terminate, and for what cause, all of that nonsense.
"The second part more clearly defines what the X is, let's say I make $35,000 for the semester, plus benefits, it defines how and when I get it. Next, or possibly before that, I can't really remember, is what I'm specifically doing for that, the details as it were. I will teach four classes starting on this date in the fall and going to semester end, and my classes will withstand audit, as in I will actually do what I was hired on to do and teach the course material for the class.
"The last part more clearly details what happens if I don't keep up my end, as in they can terminate my employment and compel me to reimburse them for any losses, if the arbitrators decide that I in fact didn't do so."
If Gregory thought he was boring me he was mistaken, this was exactly the kind of information I needed. I just didn't know where to go from here, but of all of us I thought he was in the ideal position to actually write such a contract, although it's legality would be suspect obviously. This wasn't to be written for a court of law to interpret though, just us girls... or so I intended at the time.
"I think even the best of friends can have misunderstandings, and I wish to avoid any more of those in the coming months and years. I propose that you draft a contract of servitude for me, and that you put in there whatever the girls want in it, most especially whatever Dana wants, because it's her family that's graciously making this possible for me, and really us. I'm afraid that there are just going to be times going forward that I'm not really into this, and if we have a signed contract between us, perhaps even one framed and hanging on the wall someplace for easy reference, there can be no misunderstandings.
"I hate to ask this," I went on, "and I don't even know how to properly pay you for this either, but I would appreciate it if you would even consider doing this. I'm not asking you to get caught up in any negotiations either, there are none of those from my point of view. I would like you to work this out with the girls and whatever you three decide I will sign, it's that simple." I offered, although it was immensely more complicated than that.
Gregory's eyes bored into mine, the smile on his face telling me I was hitting a nerve with him, but I didn't know why at the time.
"There was once a thing called 'Indentured Service.' It was a way for people to buy their passage to the new world in exchange for a slice of their freedom. Five years was the traditional term of the contract, but I would have to bust out a history book to review actual contracts. We could use this for a template. If you're really serious and not just pulling my leg, perhaps without the beatings and other harsh punishments sanctioned in them though."
"Oh, I don't know about that part, Sir, I think there needs to be consequences for one's misbehavior as well as rewards for good behavior. Such potential 'harsh punishments' will also tend to keep me properly motivated, especially if they are open ended. I wouldn't want to get lazy here in my service to the girls. I'm still mindful at the same time that there needs to be some heavy price for my running off on you and the girls. You're all going to want to think about that one as well, make it something so memorable that twenty years from now I'll still be able to look back and remember it."
"I'm too much of a nice guy for that." Gregory informed me with a smile.
"We'll just have to work on that then, won't we?" I asked with a mischievous smile of my own.
When the girls were finally done getting ready it was my turn. I took my own shower, after Tracy had removed my hobble, but with mostly cool water as the girls had used up all the hot water on themselves. The results were stunning though, the girls guaranteed to attract attention in their sundresses and heels. I on the other hand was reduced to wearing a borrowed Cromwell sweatshirt from Gregory and a pair of Dana's short shorts, showing off my runner's legs, but also the bruises and scratches on them. The only way I could keep them up on my tiny waist was to also borrow a leather belt, Gregory punching a new hole in the leather with his pocket knife. Dana's belt was never intended to go around a tiny waist like mine.
I wore my running shoes with my cobbled=together outfit, the sweatshirt so bulky and long that it made it look like it was the only thing I wore when I walked. We followed Gregory to Cromwell even though we knew the way, the purpose to pick majors and sign up for fall classes... and get a parking pass. We didn't have to pay that day, which was a good thing as I had no money on me, nor even an I.D. Our parents would take care of the bill, but in my case I took less than full time classes without a declared major, picking basic core classes that would be useful to almost any major I would be interested in, and lessening the initial shock of tuition for them.
Gregory walked me through the process, where the girls went off on their own way. I was unintentionally turning more heads than they did, and the girls likely wished to do this on their own because of this. There would be a price for this unintentional upstaging of my pretty friends still again, and this time Gregory would be involved, but first my contract would have to be written and signed...
The books Gregory needed were at the college library, and once I was signed up we went there together to retrieve them. He told me he had discussed my idea of a contract with the girls while I was getting ready. They liked the idea, so much so that they worked out the details with him already. All he had to do was type it up, while borrowing form from the ancient Indentured servant contracts in his history books, including the specific parts that the girls requested. Then, all we had to do was sign it, making it as official as such a thing possibly could be.
I then followed Gregory to his little office, the area deserted at the moment. Such was a good thing, he had told me, because explaining away exactly why a professor, even an adjunct one, was in the company of a hardly dressed teenaged future student alone in his office might cause a problem for him. Students and professors were not permitted to date, he had told me, although there were exceptions to this loosely enforced rule.
My heart sank when I had heard that, Gregory seeing this on my face in between typing up the contract on his manual machine. I couldn't wait four plus years for Gregory, the thought popping into my teenage mind with dread. There must be a way, I reasoned, short of me dropping out of school before I ever started, the click, click, click of the typewriter's keys like the seconds on a clock ticking away our potential time together.
"What exceptions?" I asked, looking for a loophole of some kind.
Gregory stopped typing, he then looked up at me seriously.
"If the two were in a relationship beforehand... a documented relationship, or for instance, if the student wasn't his or her student first."
Gregory went back to typing up my contract, technically a document, I thought to myself. If I avoided taking one of his classes even that might not be necessary, I thought optimistically...
He eventually handed the finished document to me for review. The girls alone could modify it by my request, but allowing me to read the thing I intended to sign and agree to the terms of seemed only fitting. As I read I felt butterflies in my stomach, and something else as well just a little lower, this mad kinky concept of mine seeming very real and frighteningly close now. Gregory must have thought so too, because he looked at me intently after I finished, he specifically wanting to know if I had a problem with the "corporal punishment" consequences of the contract.
"Such will tend to keep me properly motivated, even if the harsher ones are only used as a threat" I told a concerned Gregory, who, one could argue, had shed his "nice guy" persona to write.
"You wouldn't want me to become lazy like the girls, would you?" I then asked playfully again.
"And the other part?" He asked, glossing over my "lazy" comment completely.
"I must admit, I am curious about that one..."
Gregory looked perplexed by my second half answer, but I had read what I was about to agree to, and he seemed ok with that overall. He and I left the books on his desk and walked my "Contract Of Indentured Servitude" to the copier in the hallway, the thing having to noisily warm up and looking very bulky and expensive. Once warm, he placed the document under the heavy cover, face down, and pushed the button to make a copy. The machine did nothing in response, so Gregory pushed the button again, complaining about the finicky nature of their newest machine. This time however, the machine made its copy, I wondered why such a thing was even necessary in the first place, but I did not question Gregory on the subject, he in his element, and I most certainly out of mine.
Gregory and the girls agreed to stop for some ice creams on the way home. I rode with Gregory this time, after he handed the girls the copy of the contract for their review. This was going very fast, I thought, already having my second thoughts on my contract with the girls. I knew what I must do though, to preserve this friendship of ours and secure the education I may or may not one day need.
At the ice cream shop, while sitting at one of the tables, it felt scandalous to be talking about our contract with others within earshot, even with our voices lowered. The girls were getting a fair bit of attention from the guys there, but they had arrived as a well dressed pair, where it appeared to anybody else that Gregory and I were a couple with our more closely related clothing. The girls even sat on one side of the table, and Gregory and I on the other.
The clearly titled contract lay out in the open on the table when the nice girl came to take our order, I cringed as she could have easily read parts of my kinky contract had she been interested.
"I wish I had thought of this myself," Dana complimented in rare form, she perhaps wishing to reassert her dominance after her deflating conversation with her parents earlier in the day.
"I, that is 'we' pretty much own your ass for the next few years, once you sign and date this... and once we do the same at the bottom. I have no intention of going easy on you, just so you don't think this is all fun and games here!" Dana threatened in her lowered voice while staring into my eyes. It was an interesting contradiction, pretty and well turned out Dana, at odds with her words of implied malice, should someone be listening who didn't know her as I did.
"Yes, ma'am" I answered respectfully, that particular title, in the contract I was about to sign, the only proper way to address those in a position over my own, or "sir" should I be addressing a man, or even a boy, while on duty. Duty was contractually defined as any time I wasn't specifically "at school" so any college boys, or friends of the girls that came over, of either gender, would be addressed with such deference by the "housemaid." The housemaid's default uniform at the house was her skin, others may, or may not be provided at the owner's discretion, but there was a mandatory ten stroke minimum punishment for asking for any garment to wear under any situation. The punishment for misaddress of one's betters was a little more vague, but there would most certainly be one.
My ma'am reply wasn't technically required as I hadn't signed yet, but it seemed good to get into the practice.
"Sign it!" Dana demanded, as she slid the contract toward me, the entire situation surreal.
Gregory then handed me a black ball point pen, the color important, he had told me. He then pointed to the top of the contract he had written, I to sign my full name, and date it, right after the "I."
"I, Jacqueline D. Lapin do hereby on this date of July 22, 1970 agree to the terms of the following agreement with the undersigned, this agreement entered into of my own free will and under no duress..."
This was the first contract I had ever signed, the enormity of it hitting me once I lifted my pen. I was an adult now, and this an adult agreement, this "New Deal" between us about to change everything though. Just like those desperate travelers from another century with few assets of their own, I had sold myself into a kind of slavery in exchange for something, in my case ostensibly an education, but in reality because I thought it kinky and taboo at the time.
The girls then each signed the bottom of the contract in the open area left there for the purpose - Dana first- and I noticed for the first time all the extra space for potential other signatures there. This was no accident, as both Dana and Tracy had kept their full signatures close together at the left margin, mimicking their nearly intimate seating arrangements across from me at the table.
"Greg, do you know if there's a cheap tattoo shop in the area? I think our new property needs to be properly labeled." Tracy asked seamlessly for the pair, the ink not even dry on our signatures.
"McMurphy's, In the bar district, on the other side of town. Something in case your 'pet' runs away again?" Gregory asked with a smile.
"More of a ‘possession is nine tenths of the law’ kind of thing, but it will serve that other purpose as well, won't it?"
"True, do you want me to go with you? It's not exactly the kind of place that three pretty teenagers might want to wander into all alone."
"That would be wonderful, but a further imposition, and we're running up our tab with you as we speak," Tracy continued, the pair acting once again as if a single being.
"Not 'OUR' tab!" Dana corrected...
I felt the color drain away from my face, not envisioning the girls taking this to such a level of permanence, but that had been foolish on my part. Our ice cream came and went - although I don't think I had even tasted it - and soon I was in Gregory's car for the short ride across town to McMurphy's. I felt like I was going for my last ride to the gallows with one of my executioners, the other two following behind in Dana's car.
I could hardly speak on the short ride, other than to ask Gregory if tattoos hurt, which I assumed they surely must. The pain was only one aspect of this escalation between us girls, the other being how I would hide such a thing once I returned home.
McMurphy's Tattoos was situated right in between a bar and a pawn shop, this most certainly the "wrong side of the tracks." We even crossed a freight train's actual tracks to get there. It was like every movie cliché ever all rolled into one, except perhaps that it wasn't raining. We parked on the street in the low light of summer sunset. I think even the girls were happy for Gregory's company although nobody did or said anything out of place. I followed Gregory into the shop, the girls right behind ME in an "almost" first, they apparently just as much out of their element as I was mine. I felt very underdressed, but something made me stay, either the girl's presence behind, blocking my escape, or perhaps that in combination with Gregory's in front, I had a feeling that nothing too bad could happen with him there with us.
There was artwork on the walls, samples of what the owner could likely do, pictured next to the actual tattoo on whoever's arms, backs, or legs they happened to belong to, a kind of "before and after." The place smelt of cigarettes and other pungent things that are smoked, there being an almost perpetual haze in the air that I was unaccustomed to. Skulls and crossbones, and black panthers aside, I didn't know what the girls were after, art wise. Sean, the owner, noticed this and was more than friendly, his demeanor well out of sync with the rough atmosphere of the place bearing his family's good name on the sign.
"New students?" he asked both cheerfully, and perceptively, the man looking dangerous with all his tattoos showing on his large bare arms. His accent was pronounced, telling me he either visited his homeland often, or hadn't been here all that long. We girls had led a sheltered life up until that point, I was not even interacting with anybody looking, or even speaking, all that differently than ourselves. It was eye opening for me, this "going away" to college seeming even more exciting suddenly, if that were possible.
"Yes we are" Tracy replied for all three of us, Gregory looking at all the artwork on the walls himself and seeming to be at ease in this place. "Our friend Jackie here has lost a kind of wager with us... and she needs a tattoo" Tracy further explained, although a lot was left out of the middle of that explanation.
"What are you interested in dear?" the nice man asked me, to which I replied nervously that I didn't know.
"A pink heart perhaps, or a butterfly?" the man prodded, these both simple things artistically, and impossibly benign.
"The nature of our wager is that we get to pick out Jackie's tattoo for her, and it's placement" Dana added. "I think we could sketch out what we were thinking of on a napkin or something, and then maybe you could tell us how much it would cost, and when you could do it."
The girls did exactly that. I was not encouraged to see what they were designing, but in under five minutes they and Sean McMurphy had a working design for my new tattoo. The placement was next, and here Dana roughly spun me around and told me to bend over with my ass toward Sean, she firmly smacking the exact spot on my right butt cheek crudely where she wanted it.
This was so outside of my comfort zone that my mouth went dry and I temporarily lost the ability to speak, but at least such a thing would be out of sight to most everybody back home. The downside was that Sean, a guy who had only spoken six words to me and I had known less than ten minutes, would be staring and working on my naked ass at some yet to be determined point in the future.
"It's a simple design, I can do it for fifty dollars... right now, as I'm a little slow at the moment. It'll take about an hour or so," Sean further stated. "But first, I need to know how old you are Jackie?"
"Eighteen, Sir" I stammered out, my mouth still very dry, but I remembered my proper form of address for those in a position above my own.
"Ok, when's your birthday dear?" he then asked. I told him the date instantly, confirming that I was in fact at least eighteen years old, and legally permitted to get a tattoo, without any parental permission.
"Last question. Are you doing this of your own free will? I know you girls have a bet, but when you're my age this will still be here, although where we're putting it nobody's really going to see it all that often." On this Sean was woefully mistaken, but he had no way to know that.
"... Yes Sir, I am" I lied, but I HAD freely signed the contract, and I had asked for something that would remind me of this twenty years from now, but I hadn't expected THIS!
"Are you going to wait here for your friend, or go next door and get something to drink? Smitty is slow next door too, this before college starts time is tough on all of us."
The girls decided to wait with me, at least initially, Gregory obviously doing the same. The tables for doing this work were set up in such a way that Sean could still conduct business, as in see people come and go from his shop, while he was working, presumably on guys arms and backs though. Sean would instead be working on my naked ass, and I dreaded someone else coming in while he was doing so and increasing the scope of this "show" I was being compelled to perform in.
The table I was to be perched on seemed infinitely adjustable, and Sean set it up so that not only would I be comfortable, but that he would be as well. As I watched, the money aspect of this went through my head. Dana, or Tracy and her combined, would be paying for this obviously, a further "investment" in their property, but fifty dollars an hour at a time when the minimum wage was $1.60 seemed insane to me.
With the table set up I then crawled up on it on my belly, my face through an opening in it's top, the position quite comfortable physically, but making me feel quite vulnerable too. I was on my knees though, facing the door from behind the counter, at least giving the illusion of privacy.
"Time to wiggle those shorts down so we can start, Jackie" Sean reminded me.
"Does it hurt?" I asked foolishly, stalling the inevitable.
"Not really where you're getting yours." Sean's accented words having a soothing tone of truth to them.
"Let's get this show on the road" Dana barked, "Sean's time is valuable!" Dana then came behind me herself and unbuckled my borrowed belt and pulled my shorts down herself... as an incredulous Sean did nothing to intervene. Instead of just lowering them as I would have reluctantly done, she peeled them completely off of me, and my sneakers in the process, stripping me bare from the waist down before this near stranger.
"Hey!" I barked back in both surprise and indignation, Dana having none of it though. I didn't move to stop her from stripping me either, although I easily could have, Sean taking notice of this.
"HEY WHAT!" Dana barked back, I knew I was in serious trouble now. She then tossed my clothes over toward Tracy, who was likely smiling wickedly at my plight.
"Hey ma'am?" I asked timidly, but it was too late for that now.
Dana, in her sweet voice, then asked Sean if my long sweatshirt would be in the way as well, most of my modesty still intact and I mostly covered by it's oversized bulk.
"I'll just pull that up when I need to" Sean assured Dana in a soft tone, trying to diffuse what he thought was a serious argument between friends
"Sounds like a pain in the 'butt' to me" Dana opined, her choice of words obviously calculated, but I left thinking foolishly in my mind that she wouldn't dare...
"Head up, arms up!" Dana then barked at me again, her tone changed dramatically, now that she was talking to me again.
I reluctantly did as I was told, Dana most certainly not fooling around, and I was ever so fearful of her taking that borrowed belt of hers and whipping my now naked ass right in front of everybody with it. My knees temporarily took all of my weight as I got partially up from my comfortable laying on my belly position, knowing what was to come next. I was powerless to stop it, we both agreed on that at least.
Dana then pulled my borrowed overlarge sweatshirt from my body, stripping me naked right there in the tattoo shop, I had little choice but to get quickly back down on Sean's now cold-feeling special leather table. I wouldn't be going anywhere now, the girls sure to keep my clothes from me so I had no second thoughts on running away again and escaping this tattoo.
Dana then backed away from Sean, her mission to humiliate me into submission complete. She then sweetly asked Gregory if he wanted to go get that drink now, her Jekyll and Hyde act quite convincing. I heard them leave yet I was reluctant to pick my head up from its hiding place to check. I felt very ostrich-like courage-wise. Sean asked me one more time if I was good with this, to which I told him I was fine, I hoped my tone conveyed that we girls played around like this, and this was "normal" for us, even though this was obviously a huge escalation of our kinky games.
"I couldn't help but notice the bruises and scratches" Sean commented, now that my body was totally naked before him.
"We play rough sometimes," I told him... "If you only knew," I further conditioned, titillating his natural male curiosity I'm sure..
With the matter apparently decided to Sean's satisfaction he alcohol-wiped my butt cheek, shaved my hairless ass, and then adjusted the parts of this hybrid table/chair contraption slightly for both our comfort. The leg portions could swing out ninety degrees from the base, and the arm portions could go a full one hundred eighty, there even being straps to hold a person in case they started moving about and potentially spoiled Sean's artwork. Sean didn't buckle me into his contraption though, and I asked him about this while trying to hide my obvious interest, the thick buckles and straps there to plainly see.
"Sometimes the tough guy types really twitch around, and I grew tired of finding creative ways to fix what they made me screw up, so I had the straps custom made and installed to keep my customers firmly in place. Really, I only keep this as a threat, but it's an effective one" Sean further explained.
I was looking for a distraction from all this insanity, and Gregory was right next door with the girls anyway, and Sean seemed impossibly trustworthy...
"Sooo, if I were to twitch and move around on you, you would have no choice but to restrain me on your table?"
"Are you going to force me to use those straps, Jackie?" Sean asked playfully, he perhaps seeing the side of me that the girls knew so well, not to mention the source of my bruises.
"Maybe. When's the last time you ever had a naked teenage girl on your table... willing to be restrained?" I asked practically.
"Never" Sean conceded.
"Indeed." And to prove my point I twitched and squirmed about, giving Sean not only a reason to strap me down to his table, but also giving him a good reason to deliver a bad report on my behavior to my new owners when they returned, if he should wish to.
"You want the whole deal?"
"Please, Sean" I nearly begged, "it'll make for a delicious distraction for me."
"Okay, tell me if I make them too tight."
"They won't be."
My arms were first, wrist and elbow, the thick straps reminding me of the therapy pool chair, but in this case with the way I was laying on his heavy table my arms were more or less at my sides like a gingerbread woman. Next were my ankles, and then just below my knees, and then about mid thigh as well. I was already truly helpless.
"How's that?" Sean asked, I could tell from his tone that he expected I would want out already.
"Pretty good, but I could still move if I really wanted to." I answered honestly.
"Okay." And I could tell from his tone that this was a challenge accepted.
Sean then opened a drawer someplace close and clipped some more straps to the table, one across my hips, which he cinched tight, and another just under my shoulder blades, it pressing my boobs just a little tighter to the table top. The last strap went across the back of my head with a pad right in its center; this one Sean only snugged up slightly.
"How's your breathing?" Sean asked seriously, the one at my chest possibly restricting my normal rhythm.
"That ones fine, and the one at my hips is tight enough" I left the others out intentionally. "Can I try them out before you get started?"
"If you can move any more than a tiny bit, the tattoo's free." Sean offered seriously.
In response I flexed and pulled for all I was worth, my arms in a terrible position to exert any force at all, and really my whole upper body was held fast. It felt wonderful to be able to struggle like this, though perhaps a bit too wonderful with how close Sean would be working to my womanly charms. My legs were a different story, they were very strong from my running, and these I managed to move, but outwards, as the mechanism that locked the individual leg pads had not been firmly locked in place.
Sean moved my legs back together, there being no reason, tattoo wise, to spread them out, although I'm sure I had shown him just about everything I had to offer with my struggles already. I heard and felt him lock the leg pieces in place, he then asked me if I wanted him to snug anything up before I tried again, to which I answered yes.
Once Sean tightened the straps below my waist - and locked the leg pieces in - I wasn't really moving at all. I was his total prisoner for whatever he wanted on his surprisingly heavy table. If it had only been Gregory instead I thought to myself with a hidden smile, Sean was getting to work on my butt, perhaps he with his own smile as well.
We talked just a little while he was working, but for the most part Sean was just trying to keep me calm and involved in what he was doing. It for the most part was not feeling nearly as bad as a serious paddling, pain wise. It felt different, but the magnitude of the pain was easily tolerable. Sean told me that if I were to get one near the bone, like on my forehead, it would be an entirely different thing, although I couldn't imagine doing something like that myself.
I tried to follow what he was putting on me, but it was impossible, other than what he was doing to my butt felt about an inch and a half or so in overall size, and easily covered by a bikini, or even a pair of panties where it was placed. About as intimate as Sean got was to lean his bare arm on my bare butt for stability, he was not taking any advantage of me, even playfully, although he easily could have.
Gregory and the girls came back in before I was done, Dana carrying a glass of something I couldn't see myself, but she told Sean that Smitty said he would like one of these. I felt the pause in his work, and then the "AAAAhhhh" after he sipped whatever it was that Dana had brought over.
"Problems?" Dana asked, once she had handed Sean his drink and she could obviously see that I was now bound rather firmly to Sean's unique tattoo table.
"Nothing I couldn't handle" Sean assured Dana seriously, she being the real customer here as she was paying, or at least I had assumed so. Sean had playfully told me he was going to rat me out to my friends for misbehaving, to which I just as playfully begged him not to, although I didn't think he was actually serious. Sean had a sense of humor though, and I thought he probably had things somewhat figured out between us girls with what I had already told him, Gregory being the wild card in all this.
"Did she respectfully respond to you with 'Sir' each time you two talked?" Dana asked specifically.
"Respectfully yes, although not with 'Sir' as I recall, Dana."
"OOOOOOO, that's going to be a problem for her Sean. We have a kind of agreement between us, and not using Sir or Ma'am is a ten swat minimum for the first offense. Since this was directed at you, would you like to deliver them yourself Sean, or should I?" Dana asked darkly, clearly telling Sean that this would be far worse for me than if he did it.
I listened to this exchange passively, but what real choice did I have anyway? The thought of Sean publicly paddling my bottom in front of my friends didn't upset me like one would expect, possibly because I thought he might like to. He had gone out of his way to keep this about as professional as possible, and I thought this might even be a fun reward for that, if he went easy on me. He had big muscular arms though, and if he didn't know his own strength it could turn out to be my worst paddling ever.
"Why don't you let me finish up here, and then I'll show you what I've done, and if you all like it we can then work out the other details?"
"Okay then" Dana replied, Sean about as nicely as he could telling her to leave him alone to finish his work, or at least that's the way it sounded to me.
When we were apparently alone again behind the counter I heard Sean whisper into my ear, "you ok with this?" to which I replied by ever so slightly nodding my restrained head, telling him I was.
When the job was done Sean invited all three of my friends behind the counter to see his work on my naked ass. I had yet to see what had been permanently inked onto my body myself, but that would have been difficult with the way I was strapped to the table. It was to be a surprise, Sean was told, explaining as to why I wasn't allowed to see it.
It needed to be covered until it was properly healed, and covered with Vaseline as well to keep it from getting infected, Sean advised.. "Don't itch it, or pick at any scabs" Sean further told me, "and avoid any tight clothing for a bit."
"Do you mind if I take a picture or two of this?" Sean then asked Dana. "I like to document the artwork vs the actual work, so my customers can see how it turns out. Sometimes I might need someone to come back in later after it heals up, and I would be most grateful if you all would do this for me, this kind of art likely to open up some new markets for me." Sean surprised all of us with this, channeling business sense that we didn't expect he might have. He was really speaking to Dana though, as she was the apparent paying customer, and therefore boss here.
"I have no problem with that" Dana stated for us collectively "but we won't be back until the fall for the follow up pictures."
"That's fine with me," Sean told Dana. Several shots were then taken, but how close, or containing what exactly I didn't know, other than my face had not been in any of them. He even got one with my well turned out friends standing left and right of my exposed ass, they each with a hand at the small of my back and apparently posed.
"Ten swats, with my bare hand?" Sean clarified, after the pictures had been completed and the vaseline and giant bandaid had been placed over my new tattoo. I heard him pull the last of his liquor from his glass and put it down noisily, the ice rattling in the empty glass. He then unlocked the leg parts of his table and swung them out wide, the fresh chill felt on my moist and shaved bald girl parts.
Sean rubbed my left butt cheek first, the move making me flinch, although that was silly as he had been all over my butt for the last hour or so. Sean's smacks were far more like foreplay than any punishment, and by my count he had even stopped at nine, Dana correcting him and telling him needed to do one more. With the count completed I thanked Sean, using "Sir" specifically, so as not to earn ten more.
My public paddling while bound naked to the table left me very wound up, my thighs even moist from my arousal. Sean didn't draw any attention to this himself, nor the scent I was producing, bless his heart. He then unstrapped me and I stood brazenly nude and barefoot before him. I reached up and kissed him on the cheek by way of a thankyou, for everything, my naked breasts rubbing his inked-up left arm.
Dana asked what we owed Sean, to which he replied nothing, he telling her that this story, that he could truthfully tell, at the next body art convention, was well worth it.
"Just come back in the fall for some more pictures and we're good" Sean conditioned, "and, please tell anyone who notices my work where it was done" he added.
I thanked Sean again, and walked barefoot over to where Dana and Tracy had moved to get my very limited clothing back, before somebody walked into Sean's shop and got an eyeful. I stopped a respectful three feet or so from both, but Dana closed the gap and put her arms around my neck as if she were going to kiss me, both Gregory and Sean watching intently. We were intimately nose to nose and looking into each other's eyes like two lovers might, one of us fully clothed, and one of us completely naked, but the kiss never came.
"I want you to ride back to the summerhouse with Greg, and I want you to find some special way to say 'thank you' for all he has done for us lately before you get home.' It should be very special as we all can tell that he fancies you, but under no circumstances will you let him put his bare cock into your snatch. In fact, under no circumstances will you allow anybody to put their bare cock into your snatch unless Tracy or I give you express permission, like ever, is that clearly understood?" Tracy whispered for my ears alone.
"Yes ma'am" I answered just as quietly, and just that fast my coming college experience had changed once again. There would be no casual sex in he traditional sense without my new owners express permission, but there were still things two determined people could do that would skirt those rules.
Dana backed away and pointed out the obvious to everybody present, including a still watching Sean, we most certainly making his night.
"There is no way I'm letting you put my shorts back on over that drooling mess of yours" Dana barked. "And there is no WAY you're sitting on my clean seats bare assed like that either! If you don't want to hitchhike home like you are, you better work out a ride with Greg, or even Sean, because I'm not taking you in MY car."
To emphasize my predicament, Tracy tossed my running shoes at me, technically the only clothing that I hadn't borrowed for this trip. Gregory had lent me his sweatshirt, but that didn't necessarily mean that he would lend it back to me once again. Sean would be my almost last chance for a ride home if I couldn't somehow convince Gregory to give me one himself, hitchhiking my last, last chance option. I could still possibly run all the way there, even nude as I was, such would be under the cover of darkness. I would obviously have to hide when any cars drove by, but I could physically do this, unless of course a van load of guys caught and abducted me on the way, which might make for some great self-entertainment fantasy, although a terrible reality.
I slipped into my running shoes and walked toward Gregory, asking him with a smile what it would take to re-borrow his sweatshirt, and then what it would take to get a ride home from him. He could see that this wasn't quite as serious as Dana had made it to be, but I was still naked and had "all" the skin in this particular game. I was sure that I could always negotiate a ride home with Sean one way or the other, but of the two men I had an obvious preference. If I were to ride with Sean I would still likely be naked the entire time, any ride likely happening after he closed his shop sometime later in the night as well.
Gregory snatched his sweatshirt from Tracy's hands and handed it to me with a smile, then asked the girls when he had to have me home by. His asking made it almost sound as if either of them were my actual parents, and Gregory then the teen boy looking to get lucky, instead of an adult senior to all three of us, but still almost certain to get lucky in some form or another.
"Before sunrise" Tracy answered for both.
"... or she gets a serious punishment, and finds herself grounded for a week." Dana added seamlessly.
Gregory WAS a man, with his own car, and even a house. He even had a good job as an authority figure, a professor even. And he was kinky, really kinky! And I marveled at how this dominant MAN was attracted to me over my very pretty friends, but was it for sex alone, or something deeper? In my mind Gregory could do better, but I didn't want him to.
I pulled my borrowed shirt once again over my head and then followed Gregory to his car. It felt weird to once again be wearing clothes, although I was still naked just below the sweatshirt. The girls followed us out the door, we all saying our goodbyes to Sean, a man we would be seeing again.
The vinyl seat was cold on my bottom, but warming up quickly, we both watching the girls head towards home before I spoke:
"Did the girls tell you I was to be your gift, basically compensation for all you have done for us... and obviously me?" I smiled when I spoke, I thought conveying that I was a willing gift for his purposes.
"We discussed it hypothetically, yes, and trust me when I tell you that I so want to do something with you. I am curious though, because I got the feeling that your friends wanted to keep you for themselves. They love you dearly, but I know that you know that. There is a part of me that doesn't want to intrude on that, certainly if it's just 'compensation' for services rendered this one time... I didn't do any of those things thinking I would get something material out of it for myself, you know..."
"How about we go someplace private so we can talk?" I asked, my teenage mind even knowing something was well out of sync here.
"I'll bet you know a dozen places to go parking, I'm not exactly dressed for more ice cream or anything like that" I added.
"I do have my own house," Gregory reminded me, taking me home having a certain connotation to me though.
"If I spend the night with you at your house, I might never want to leave." I told him honestly, that surely an escalation on this relationship that we were just starting. Parking in a car in the dark someplace seemed, to my teenage mind, somehow less serious, although either can lead to the same conclusion. On top of that, Dana hadn't given me permission to go home with Gregory, only to detour on the way to hers. Dana technically "owned" me now, along with Tracy, for the next five years, and disobeying her so early in this game would lead to some serious consequences for me.
"Parking it is," Gregory conceded.
True to his word Gregory found a place and we talked, and then we made out a little, that first kiss pretty good, but not over the top magical like you read in a romance novel. He then tentatively explored my body that had been on display, in one form or another - but also "out of reach" to him for practical reasons - pretty much since we met. Who could blame him though? He was gentle with me, a part of me wishing I had perhaps, somehow, met this Gregory first although this desire of mine was contradictory to the more aggressive physical things I seemed to need lately.
It did hurt to sit on my fresh tattoo though, so I initially leaned toward him in the driver's seat on my freshly spanked cheek to avoid the other as much as I could. we eventually moved to the comfort of his much larger back seat at my request.
It seemed like regression to be "just" kissing and feeling each other up in a car, certainly with all we had already been through together. Those proverbial first steps had already been skipped with a man who had seen me naked as much as Gregory already had, not to mention one that had helped dress me up as a human pet and then locked me in a cage for transport. It was as if our friendship, or even any budding romance, had been poisoned from the very start. How could this man see me as anything BUT a sex object? I asked myself rationally.
My feelings were obviously all over the place that night, but I had been through a lot, including selling myself into slavery for a potential education...
"There's something about being in a car that does something for me" I confessed. "It's your car, you could do anything you like to me, even take back your borrowed shirt if you wanted to." I stripped off the shirt and threw it up on his rear seat's package shelf to make my point. I also did this because I was getting very hot, in both ways! My body had decided what it wanted, romance would have to wait, if Gregory was still willing.
"There's something I've wanted to do since I've met you." I told Gregory, this being only half a lie. In reality, my owner's desire for me to properly compensate Gregory had to come first, pardon the pun. Already naked I hopped out of the car and knelt on the ground next to it, grabbing my ankles with my hands and imagining I were bound in this position. I further pretended in my mind that Gregory was some stranger that had abducted me on my naked run home from the tattoo parlor, and that he had tied me like this for his convenience, and to prevent my escape.
Gregory had a lot of pluses in his desirability column, but he was still a guy, and no guy that I had even known would have walked away from an offer like this. Gregory didn't either, his lingering questions of long term goals as easily forgotten as had been mine. Sometimes, sex was apparently, just sex.
Gregory stood in front of me and opened his belt, worked his button and zipper almost frantically, and then dropped everything to his ankles with my face inches from his man hardware as he stepped out of them. This wasn't the first blow job I had ever given, but to say I was highly experienced would be a lie. His cock was rock hard and pointing at me in the dim light, but not as large as the last boy's that had earned the privilege from me in high school, despite Gregory being a full sized adult man.
I looked at it for perhaps a few seconds, a feeling of deja vu coming over me, although I didn't do it this way specifically for that last boy in high school. I reached forward and drew him into my mouth, determined not to use my hands if possible, maintaining the illusion for myself that I was bound and being forced to do this. I ran my tongue under him, as if savoring some favorite snack, he easily fit into my mouth completely, my nose tickled by the hair at the base of his cock.
I put pressure on him with my lips and tongue and bobbed my head up and down on him, he moaning in response. He then added his hand to the back of my head, but not roughly, more like "this is what you're supposed to do." It felt wonderful, but I had to let him know that I could do so much more than this, so I pulled away from him to ask him a thing or two, knowing I would get some candid answers so as to more quickly get me back to what I was doing for him.
"Did you read my diary, Gregory, Sir?" I started, saying it like this so he knew I wasn't making an accusation, just wanting to know.
"Not all of it."
"Well, Sir, if you've read any of it at all you probably have a pretty good idea that I like it when the girls make me do things. Why else would I sell myself into slavery to them?"
"Because you love and trust each other, and you all seem to have a similar kinky streak too... Perhaps more of a complimentary kinky streak," Gregory added after a second thought on the subject, but to be fair, I had a good part of his thinking brain rather distracted at that moment.
"Dana told me I wasn't permitted to do something, like ever, without her permission, but anything else I am so game for at the moment. I like rough, and I would like it if you could try to be like that with me, that being bound to Sean's table nearly drove me out of my mind."
"If we only had your cuffs and things with us?" Gregory opined, his tone humorous, but there was still something bothering him about all this.
"Improvise" I told him, "and don't be so gentle, the girls are going to use me hard over the next five years or so, why shouldn't you too?"
Still Gregory gave me that look, telling me there was something else.
"Let's play a game, you and I." I started. "I'll tell you what I'm thinking, and then you do the same. No judgements, and no consequences either. I'll start. I would just love it if I were bound in this exact position, with you right there and making me take care of you how ever many times you liked. And if I didn't do a good enough job, or maybe even if I did, you still might just close your doors and drive away once you were done with me, leaving me here, naked and helpless. Somebody else would eventually find me, and then I would have to do the same for them. I even have a kind of deja-vu feeling about all this, with you, as if I've done this before."
"Your turn" I prompted.
"Alright. You have done this before, for me. I was taking you for that walk, in your dog persona, back before you ran away. You stopped right in front of me on the trail and nuzzled me there. I shouldn't have, but I gave into temptation and let you do something wonderful for me. To make a long story short, the second I came off you knocked me over with my pants around my ankles and took off... I was to blame for your escape, and had things turned out differently, I would have been to blame for that too."
"Feel better?" I asked, this explaining a lot to me.
"Not really" Gregory confessed, he obviously not believing I wouldn't hold this against him somehow.
"Sounds to me like this is something I've wanted to do for you more than once then, maybe you just have to find a way to keep me from running off after you're done with me."
"Was it good, that last time I mean?" I added.
"You were wonderful, I'm not exactly the biggest guy on the block you know."
The truth finally came out, he was upset at nearly losing me, sure, but he was less than confident about his guy hardware, and this seemed like the bigger issue to me, pardon the pun. I had noticed such myself, but there was no way on earth that I would comment on it now. I just didn't know what to say that wouldn't crush him, or insult him instead. I understood now why he was reluctant to get just as naked as I was, and maybe even why he didn't go "all in" for my pretty friends like Denis did. They each could likely have taken their pick of the two girls and locked me instead in my cage and let me listen to them "have at it," but Gregory was instead there for me. Although that didn't turn out exactly as he had likely planned either...
"Would you think any more, or less of me, if I was twice the size I am?" I asked.
"Then neither do I, and I don't ever want to have this conversation again. Now, here's the deal, I want you to be rough with me, and if I don't swallow every drop, or if it isn't the best one you've ever had, I want you to punish me however you see fit. But, if you're too squeamish for that, I want you to deliver me to the girls with a bad report, because I know they're not!"
"Don't move," Gregory commanded, as if my words flipped some invisible switch inside his head. I didn't, but watched warily as he slipped his belt from his pants, thinking I was going to get my whipping before I even had a chance to disappoint him with my budding oral talents. Instead he slipped his belt around my neck, slip knot fashion, and then slammed the long loose end into his car's open rear door, tethering me to it. I was still kneeling, and had he chosen to hop in and drive away I would have been finished.
He then walked toward his driver's door, and my concern increased exponentially, images flashed in my mind of my body being dragged naked next to his car all the way toward town. I didn't say a word though, Gregory was going to do what he wanted no matter my wishes on the subject. I now knew his secret, and one sure way to keep me quiet was to go for a drive, after I stopped screaming. Although once that leather belt noose pulled tight, I doubted I would be making much noise at all.
My imagination was going wild, but why would intelligent Gregory opt to do such a thing, most certainly with his pants left in a heap right in front of me?
He only grabbed his keys out of the car's ignition, taking them and opening the trunk, he came around to me with some wide fabric covered electrical tape from his toolbox. He then crossed my ankles and taped them together, doing the same to my wrists afterwards, and then taping the centers of both together with the rest of the tape on the roll.
The result was that I was deliciously captured, kneeling and naked with my chest thrust out, and my neck with little room to move as well; Gregory improvising nicely, his reward to follow.
Gregory grabbed my head in both hands, he took me at my word and being just a little rougher with me as he sawed into my willing mouth. My enthusiasm multiplied tenfold over that of before. He noticed, but he would have been a fool not to! Gregory used me hard, what he lacked in guy hardware stature he more than made up for with sheer enthusiasm, this however not doing anything for me, other than winding me up some more.
"I'm getting close!" Gregory eventually announced, as if I couldn't tell that myself. He slacked his hands from my head, expecting I would pull away and let him shoot off someplace harmlessly on the ground, or at least giving me the option should I want it. I continued doing all that I could, not only for Gregory's benefit, but my own, lest I be returned with a bad report by him later in the night.
He came right at the back of my throat, causing me to cough a time or two, but even so I took everything he gave me cheerfully. Only when I had milked him for all I could did I thank him, he collapsing up against his car his exertions were so great. I understood now why I was able to so easily escape him in my dog persona, post orgasm...
"THANK YOU!" Gregory told me, after he caught his breath. "That was magnificent, but there is something else I want to do."
I told him what Dana had told me about my limits, and he seemed to already know this, as if the three had already discussed what I was, and was not, allowed to do.
"Want to stay and play, or go home and get put to work?" Gregory asked me logically.
"Stay and play."
Gregory then opened his rear car door and released his improvised noose from my neck. He easily picked me up and loaded me onto his massive back seat on my back. My wrists and ankles were still bound together, and to each other behind my back in a rather helpless kind of hogtie. He then took his rear seat lap seat belt closest to my chest and wrapped it over my chest and then under my back, latching and cinching it tight, and pinning me to the seat. My bound arms as well were pinned to my lower back, the restriction on my movements ad-hoc, but effective.
He then cut the tape binding my ankles together with his pocket knife, temporarily freeing them, except for his iron grip on the left one. My left leg was then stretched out and cinched fast with the other rear lap belt, there being enough slack that he could wind it around my leg twice before setting the buckle, he tugged the adjustment one more time just to be sure he had all the slack out. This man appeared nothing short of a creative bondage genius to me, but he wasn't done yet...
This was pretty wonderful all by itself, but then he took his leather belt that had been my noose only minutes before, he wrapping up my free right ankle in his belt and then anchoring the rest of the belt to his driver's seat headrest, both spreading me wide, and holding my freshly tattooed ass comfortably off his seat.
"How's that?" Gregory asked, justifiably proud of his creative efforts on my behalf.
I struggled experimentally to test my bonds, confirming that Gregory could do anything he liked to me now, with or without Dana's permission.
Instead of taking advantage of me though, he instead hopped into his drivers seat, I half expecting to be taken for a ride through town like this in the dark, except that he was still just as naked as I. He instead moved his bench seat forward toward the steering wheel about as far as it would go, Gregory being rather tall and needing the room behind the wheel when he drove. This spread my legs even further, almost like a doctor's exam table, the result the same though, I helplessly open and ready for probing.
Gregory then buried his face and his fingers into my nether regions, the next half an hour or so simply magnificent. No one had ever done something like this for me before, I now knew what the girls saw in this for themselves. The boys I had dated only touched me down there, as if reluctantly completing some homework assignment before the big test of sticking their ten second cock into me. I was envious of the girls and their relationship, they apparently did this all the time, where I had to mostly settle for my own fingers. That was just not the same as having someone you loved do this for you...