Thursday, May 30, 2013

The Housekeeper - Chapter 1 (Part 2 of 2)



I have a minor little surgery that got rescheduled for tomorrow morning so I'm pushing this out now.  Hope you enjoy it... and have a great weekend.  - Karen
 

The Housekeeper
By Karen Singer

Chapter 1 (Part 2 of 2)

     He went into the classroom, back toward his desk, but when she got there, she stopped in the doorway.  She stood there, staring at him, but not doing anything else.  Finally she spoke.  “I’m waiting.”
     He still couldn’t believe it.  He still couldn’t believe what this sick girl was making him do.  But standing next to his desk, he quickly undid his belt, unfastened his pants and pulled them down to his knees.  She waited a few moments longer before she closed the door and walked back to him.  “Next time,” she said, “I’m gone for good… and you soon will be too!  Understand?”
      “Yeah,” he replied sullenly.
      “Not yeah…  it’s ‘yes Miss Carol’ from now on!  Say it!”
     She had surprised him yet again.  “Yes, Miss Carol,” he repeated.
     She stared at him for a moment, making him wait, making him wonder.  Then she only nodded.  “Take your jacket off.”  He took his sport coat off and placed it on his desk.  “Now your shirt and tie.”  A minute later, his bare chest was completely exposed.  Except for his underwear, he was naked from the knees up.  His pants kept threatening to slip all the way down so he grabbed for them to help keep them up.  “Just take them all the way off,” she commanded.  “Your shoes and socks too.”
     He had already gone this far, removing his pants the rest of the way wasn’t much different.  He slipped them off and piled them with the rest of his clothes.  Only his underwear kept him from being totally naked in front of her.  He put his hands down in front of him for modesty.  She slapped his hands away.  “Don’t bother!”  His hands went back to his sides. 
     She walked around him then, slowly examining his hairy body.  It was all the hair she found so surprising.  None of the boys that she knew had that much body hair.  None!  But he had hair… everywhere!  Even covering his back!  She found it all… ugly.  She went all the way around until she got back in front of him again.  “Do you have a pair of scissors in your desk?”
      “I think so.”
      “I think so, Miss Carol!” she barked!
     Her ferocity actually scared him for a moment.  “I think so, Miss Carol,” he replied.
      “Well get them!”
     He hurried back to his desk, opened it and grabbed the scissors.  Then he hurried right back to the side of his desk again.
      “I don’t want you to pull your underwear off.  I want you to cut them off.  Do it so that you can’t ever wear them again.”
     What she was asking would leave him totally naked in front of her.  “But…”
      “Did I tell you that you can speak?  No!  You don’t say anything unless I give you permission!  You just do it… or else!”
     Her yelling once again frightened him.  He quickly glanced down at his briefs and tried to figure out the best way to do as she had commanded.
      “What do you say, Maggot?”
     He looked back up at her.   “Yes, Miss Carol?”
     She nodded, then stood there waiting again. 
     He glanced down at his briefs to figure out how he wanted to complete her command. 
     As he pulled out the side of his waistband, she grabbed his cell phone from where she had set it down earlier.  She quickly found the setting for taking pictures and she raised it up toward him and put her finger on the button to snap a picture. 
     Slowly, he cut down the entire side.  As he was about half-way through, he heard the electronic click of her taking the picture.  He gasped in disbelief as his scissors stopped right where they were.  “Keep going,” she commanded, still keeping the cell phone’s camera aimed at his task.  Hating every second of it, he allowed the scissors to complete their job.  It was a good thing he was still holding onto the waistband because otherwise his underwear would have fallen off. 
      “Now the other side,” she commanded, the cell phone still aimed and ready. 
     Carefully, he changed his grip on both the scissors and his waist band, now pulling them out on the other side.  As he did so, the front of the side he had already cut, flopped downward, nearly exposing him completely.  He hesitated to do as he knew he had to, but he didn’t hesitate very long.  With one bold cut, the scissors parted the other side all the way down.  He felt the back of his underwear falling down between his legs.  The front actually stayed mostly in place because he was still holding it there.
     She took another picture.  “Just drop them in the trash,” she commanded.
     He turned his body as he did so, trying as much as possible to not expose himself too much to her.  The cut-up underwear landed in the top of his trash can, on top of everything else.  He only hoped that nobody would ever see them there.  Hopefully, he could grab them before he left later.
      “I’m waiting,” she said.  He really hated doing it, but he turned back to face her, fully exposed.  She snapped another picture.  “Now play with it!” she commanded.  “Make it hard!”
     Her command was so outrageous that he couldn’t believe she had said it.  But then, wasn’t everything she had said and done so far just as bad?  He hated her so much for this.  This was so wrong!  Yet he could think of nothing that he could do about it.  Grabbing his member, he began working it, massaging it, trying to make it do what he didn’t want it to do. 
     All the while he was masturbating himself, she was snapping more pictures.  She moved back to the middle of the room and held the camera up again, taking in more of the room, including his desk and the blackboard.  Then she moved off to the side and took another one showing him and the wall clock above the classroom door.  Several pictures later, she came closer to him again.  His cock was definitely larger now.  She stared at it, fascinated, even as she kept snapping more pictures. 
     He hated himself for giving in to her.  He hated his body for responding under these circumstances, but despite himself, he was growing ever more aroused.  He felt himself growing closer and closer to climax.  Nearly there!
      “Stop!” she commanded.  Confused, it took him a moment to realize what she had said, and then follow her order.  With his hand still on his member, he looked up at her quizzically.  “Get dressed,” she commanded.  “We have other things to do today.” 
     As he was pulling his clothes back on, she moved several rows back and took a seat at one of the desks.  She went though picture after picture, pushing buttons over and over again as if she was actually doing what she really wanted to be doing.  He just couldn’t know that she wasn’t actually doing it.  When she was done, she looked up at him again.  He was totally dressed.  “I’ve just sent all those pictures somewhere else for safe keeping,” she told him. 
     He suspected that’s what she had been doing, he just didn’t want to believe it.  She now had absolute proof that would land him in jail any time she wanted to press the issue.  He was trapped worse than before! 
     She stood up again and slung her purse over her shoulder.  “Come on, you’re buying me a cell phone.”

     As he drove her into town toward the cell phone store, he tried desperately to think of a way out of his predicament, but she had managed to cut off all escape with a frightening finality.  Since she had sent those pictures off to somewhere… or possibly to someone else, no matter what he claimed now, she had proof that he had exposed himself to her – no matter that it had never happened before.  The fear of prison weighed heavier and heavier in his stomach the further he drove.  “Isn’t there anything we can do to end this?” he finally asked.
      “Shut up!” she yelled quickly.  “I didn’t give you permission to speak.  Besides, we both know now that you’re going to do whatever I say, no matter what!”
     After that, he was silent all the way out to the store.  Once inside, she looked around at all the different cell phones till she found one that she liked – naturally one of the most expensive ones.  She pointed toward it, “Buy me two of those!  One in pink and one in purple.  And make sure you get a plan that includes unlimited everything!  You can add them to your own account if you like, I don’t care.  You’ll be paying for it all anyway.”  He knew he would.
     When they left the store, her next command surprised him even more.  “Drive me to your house now!”  He dared not say a word as he drove out of town, all the way out to his own house.  She had him pull straight into the garage and close the door behind them.  Then she got out of the car like she owned the place.  He followed from the garage through the door that led directly into his kitchen.
     He watched silently as she went from room to room, examining his home in minute detail.  Every room was closely looked at, every closet was opened and searched.  She even opened every drawer in his dresser and briefly rifled through everything.  “No guns?” she asked as if she was disappointed.
     He shook his head.  “None.  What would I need one for?”
     She only nodded her head in reply as she looked around one more time.  “What are you doing with the place?” she asked.  “Half of it looks like a construction zone.”
      “I bought a fixer upper,” he replied.  “I’m fixing it up.  It’s kind of my hobby.  I’m hoping to finish it and resell it. Then buy another one to do.”
     She just nodded again as if she didn’t really care.  She glanced at her watch.  It was time to do something with him.  She had other things to take care of now.  She headed down the short hallway where the bedrooms were to one of the rooms still under construction.  All the walls were nothing but exposed boards.  The ceiling too was nothing but exposed beams.  The light above was just a single bare bulb hanging from one of the beams.  The floor wasn’t finished either, it looked like nothing but old scared boards.  One of the walls between the rooms was nothing but studs.  She could walk right through it into the next room if she wanted to.  “Lay down over by that wall,” she commanded, pointing at the stud wall between the rooms.  When he hesitated, she shouted at him.  “Do it now!”  Reluctantly he did as he was told.  “Put your back to it!” 
     As he got himself into position, she walked through the wall into the next room and set her bag on the floor.  She pulled out a set of handcuffs.  “Put your arms behind your back,” she commanded angrily, letting him know that there would be no disobeying her.  As much as he didn’t want to do it, he again had no choice.  Laying on his side, he worked his arms behind him.  He felt her pulling them both harshly backward to the other side of the wall.  The wall stud between his arms dug into his back.  Then suddenly, he felt the metal cuff snap into place on one wrist.  Fear ran through him once again.  He tried to pull his arm back, but she held it too tightly.  His fear grew worse as she locked the cuff on his other wrist too.  She has shackled him to the wall!
     Carol relaxed slightly as she dropped his now bound hands.  The cuffs had been a lucky bonus.  She had accidentally discovered them when she was at her friend Michelle’s house when the two of them had gone into her mother’s bedroom to look for something else.  As her friend quickly searched her mother’s dresser, she had checked the drawers in the nightstand.  Seeing the cuffs with the key still in them had somewhat shocked her.  But knowing about her mother’s plan and what she would soon need to do, she had palmed the cuffs and managed to get them out of the house.  She had felt a little guilty about it then since Michelle was her friend, but now she was glad she had done it.  The cuffs made things much easier.  She only wished she had a few more of them.
     She would have simply left him like he was, but she didn’t know how strong that board was between his arms.  And thanks to all the disastrous scenarios that her mother had mentioned over the phone, she now had visions of him pulling the whole thing apart and coming after her.  The board wall between the rooms was simply a lucky break that she hadn’t even planned on, so she had taken her mother’s advice and prepared something else to keep him secure.  She went back to her bag and pulled out a short length of thin rope that she had found in the basement at the foster home where she lived.  She tied a large loop in one end of it… then after thinking for a moment about what she was wanted to do, she tied another one in the other side of the rope.  She dropped it on the floor behind him.
     She walked back through the wall… back in front of him.  Quickly bending down, she grabbed his ankles and started pulling them back toward the other side of the wall.
      “Hey!  What are you doing?” he yelled.
     She dropped his legs and hurried around to his front side again and kicked him – hard!  She was rewarded to hear his yelp of pain.  “Shut up!” she yelled.  “I didn’t give you permission to speak!”  She watched for a moment as he writhed in pain.  Then she grabbed his ankles again and continued pulling them through to the other side of the wall, two boards away from the board between his bound arms.  This time there was no protest.  She dropped his legs and grabbed the piece of rope, slipping one of the loops over one ankle, she closed the loop tightly over that ankle.  Reaching out, she grabbed his handcuffed wrists and pulling as hard as she could, she brought his ankle all the way up to his outstretched arms, pulling the rope from his leg over top of the cuffs on his wrists.  She ignored his groaning, not caring in the least about his pain.  She had to reach hard to grab his other leg, but a minute later, that too was connected to the rope between the cuffs behind his back. 
     She stood up to survey her work.  He was bent backwards very uncomfortably, wrapped around all those wall boards.  She watched as he struggled, but there was very little he could do.  There was no way he could get out of the cuffs, and chained around the wall like he was, he certainly wasn’t going anywhere either. 
     Without saying another word, she grabbed her bag and closed the door behind her as she walked back out to his living room where he couldn’t hear her.  She sat on his couch and checked her watch again.  It was not only time, it was past time.  Using her new cell phone, she dialed the number her mother had made her memorize.  Someone on the other end picked up.  She had to ask to speak with Janice Stokley, but the wait was only moments.  “Mom?” she asked when she heard someone picking up the phone.
      “Carol!” her mother’s voice returned.  “How did it go?”
     Carol sat back on the couch and relaxed.  “I’m calling from my new cell phone.  Does that answer your question?”
      “Good girl!” Janice exclaimed excitedly.  “Where is he now?”
      “Chained up on the floor to one of the walls he’s still building.  He looks very uncomfortable the way I did it.”
      “Tough!  Let him rot there!” her mother declared.  “As long as it won’t kill him.”
      “No danger of that,” Carol replied.
      “Good.  So did you manage to get any pictures?”
      “Yes!  Tons of them!  Great ones!  I can’t wait to show them to you.  When we’re done here, I’m going to transfer them all from his phone to our new ones.”
      “Good girl!  Now you know what you have to do from here?”
      “No problem.  Like you said, I should have a little fun with him.  I just wish I didn’t have to keep going back to that stupid home every night.”
      “You have to – for now!  But that will all change soon, Honey.”
      “Yeah, I know,” she replied, sullenly. 
     When her call finally ended, Carol wandered outside to his workshop and looked around carefully.  She looked at everything she could to make sure there were no guns in there.  She paid particular attention to the small area where all his fishing stuff was located, but fortunately, no guns there either.  He certainly did have a lot of tools though – and machines.  She didn’t even know what half of them were.  There were stacks of wood everywhere too.  She wandered over to his workbench.  A roll of duct tape hanging on the wall caught her eye.  She grabbed it and went back into the house. 
      “Please release me,” he begged the minute she got near enough for him to see her.  “I’ve got to pee!”
     Quickly she hurried over to him and kicked him swiftly in his groin.  He writhed in pain, cursing and moaning loudly.  “Did I give you permission to speak?  No!  You don’t say anything unless I tell you to!  And if you have to pee, then you’ll just have to do it right where you are.  Anything else for that matter too.”
     She pulled a length of duct tape off of the roll and pressed it firmly across his mouth, making sure to seal it as well as possible.  “There, maybe that will help to keep you quiet for a while.”  She reached into his pocket and fished around for a moment, finally pulling out his car keys.  Then she reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet.  She stood up.  “If you’re good, maybe I’ll bring you something to eat.”
     She turned and walked away from him.  Two minutes later, she was pulling out of the garage in his car, leaving him behind to his own miseries. 

     Roger struggled angrily once again, but all it brought him was more frustration.  His arms ached, his shoulders ached, his legs ached, and his back ached.  And the metal cuffs on his wrists just plain hurt!  How had this happened?  He tried to open his mouth, but the tape was too firm.  He tried to yell, but all that would come out was more moaning that wouldn’t carry anywhere.  Not that there would be anyone around to hear him.  His house was fairly isolated and sat on a rather large lot.  Images of him being left there like that to die flashed though his mind.  He forced them away. 
     And he really did have to pee, a need that only grew worse the more he thought about it.  He tried to push that away from his mind as well.  He was only partially successful.
     He wanted to kill her – badly!  As much as he was against violence, he was now contemplating exactly that – violence against a child!  A child?  Ha!  A monster!  Would it be better to go to prison for murdering her… or go to prison for the trumped up bogus things she was blackmailing him with now?  Well, he guessed they were no longer so bogus.  She now had all those compromising pictures of him that she had sent off somewhere.  That wasn’t good!  Was it possible that there could be any way he could get out of this without going to prison?  As far as he could now see, his only hope was in going along with her… for now.  He would have to see what he could come up with in the future to fix things and get out of this mess.  Besides, he was fairly sure that she had some kind of distinct agenda on her mind, and he wanted to know what it was.  Once he knew that, then maybe then the authorities would believe him!

     Carol glanced at her watch.  Unfortunately, she would have to make sure she was back at the foster home before it got too late.  But Momma had said that some things absolutely had to be taken care of, no matter how unpleasant.  Actually, this wasn’t all that unpleasant.  She drove into the drive through at Burger King and ordered dinner, paying for it with his money.  Then she headed straight back to his house again. 
     He was still there, right where she left him.  But then, where else would he be?  She walked into the unfinished room and set the bag of food down on the floor.  Then she went all the way out to his kitchen and dragged one of the chairs back with her.  She set the chair well back away from him.  Then she knelt down next to him and ripped the tape off of his mouth.  He screamed in pain as she did it.  She didn’t really care.  She walked back to her chair, picked up the bag of food from the floor and sat down.  She pulled a chicken sandwich out of the bag for herself, opened it and took a bite.  She pulled a French-fry out of the bag, held it up, and looked at it.  Then she threw it at him.  It landed on the floor in front of his face.  “Eat it!” she commanded.
     Roger looked at it.  It was close enough to his face that he could probably just get it into his mouth.  But it was laying on the floor that was not just dirty, it was filthy from all the deconstruction he had done in the room.  “No thanks,” he replied.  Before he knew what was happening, she was up out of her seat and delivering another wicked kick directly to his groin.  He cried out loudly at the pain as he writhed helplessly.  And then, as she was sitting back down again, the dam on his bladder gave way.  It had been a long time since he had been to the bathroom and there was simply no holding it back anymore.  He heard her laughing at him as she saw the spreading wet patch growing around him.  He began to cry – for so many reasons. 
      “Baby!” she said as she took another bite of her sandwich.  She watched him crying for a few moments.  Then she commanded again.  “Now eat that fry!”
     With tears blurring his vision, he again turned to the French-fry on the dirty floor in front of him.  With a great deal of effort, he finally got his tongue on it and was able to pull it into his mouth.  He tasted the grit and dirt and sawdust from the floor as he chewed and swallowed.  And then another fry bounced off of his face.
     Carol finished her sandwich while continuing to throw him the fries.  Then she pulled another sandwich out of the bag and began breaking it up into little pieces and throwing those at him to eat too, until finally he had finished it all. 
     She ripped a fresh piece of duct tape off of the roll and pressed it to his mouth again, then she stood over him.  “You’re going to learn to do as you’re told.  One way or another, you’re going to learn.  Now I’m going to leave you here like that to think about things tonight.  I’ll be back real early tomorrow to help you get ready for school.  We have some more things to do then.  By tomorrow, I hope you’ll be a little smarter and show me a little more respect!”
     She left him again, taking his car.  She drove back to the foster home but parked his car a block away where nobody would see it.  When she got inside, she told Mrs. Faye that she would be leaving very early every morning for a while so she could work on a school project with her friends.  Mrs. Faye really didn’t care.  With a house full of foster children, she had enough other kids to worry about, and Carol had never been a problem.



1 comment:

sa said...

*hugs* Thanks for the early update and I hope your surgery goes well.