Under Her Thumb - 3

 

Under Her Thumb – 3

By Karen Singer

 

She had pegged him perfectly at that party.  Well, maybe not perfectly.  So far, he was showing signs of being even more submissive than she had figured.  All to the good.  There was no doubt she was having a lot of fun with him.  Fun that she intended on continuing tonight.

Would he balk this time?  She didn’t know for sure, but she doubted it.  Of course, if he did, then that would only mean she would make things more difficult for him.  She was sure he didn’t believe she could, but it was something she was actually looking forward to.  Unfortunately, so far, he was proving easier to dominate than she had anticipated.  Still, he had been a world of fun…for her.  Of course, she had no doubt he was having fun too.

As she removed her clothes in the seedy motel room, her eyes automatically checked her guns.  The sawed-off shotgun was still draped across the arms of the chair, one handgun was still on the nightstand next to the bed and her other one was lying on the bed itself.  She checked her prisoner.  He was lying on the floor, not just bound, but severely hogtied with his arms and legs all tied together in one big knot behind him.  Very uncomfortable.  She had blindfolded him and gagged him.  The gag would come out later when she was done, but for now, she wanted him quiet.  She wasn’t sure if she would ease his bonds for the night or not, but for now, that’s how she wanted him.  She had chased him across two states before apprehending him.  He deserved more than the small bit of discomfort she was giving him.

She had gotten lucky in catching this guy earlier that afternoon, but it would still take her until tomorrow sometime to get him home and collect the reward for his capture.  Because of that, she had taken the time to stop at this hotel and do what she really wanted.  Play with Jozy.  It was earlier than she usually called him, but Jozy was going to need that extra bit of time tonight.  Laying back on the bed, she hit the button on her phone and waited for him to answer.

“Hello?”

Did he sound desperate?  Needy?  Excited?  “Hi Jozy,” she said.  “Are you excited to hear from me?”

“Yes,” his reply came back.

“Good,” she said.  “Tell me Jozy, do you need to pee at all yet?”

“Some,” he admitted.  “I didn’t want to do it yet in case…”

“In case what?” she asked.

“Um…in case you called.”

“Aren’t you glad I did call then?” she laughed.  “Tell me Jozy, did you shave your legs again today?”

“Uh….”

“Don’t lie to me Jozy.  Did you shave your legs?”

“Uh…since I shaved them last night, I didn’t think they needed it this morning.”

“Oohh,” she said.  “Well, let’s find out.  Take your pants off and take a picture of your legs.  Make sure you take some good close-ups.  Take a few and send them to me.  Let me see.  Ta-ta, Jozy.  I’ll call you back when I get the pictures.”

She hung up.  Jozy didn’t know it yet, but whether his legs needed it or not, he was still going to wind up in the bathtub shaving them again.  And that was only going to be the start of his problems tonight.  A few minutes later, she got the pictures.  She took the time to study them closely.  Poor boy, they weren’t too bad at all, but they’d never pass her inspection, even if there wasn’t any sign of stubble on them. 

She called him back.  “Hello Jozy.  Nice pictures.”

“Are they good enough?” he asked hopefully?

“Good enough?” she laughed.  “Jozy, you sound positively needed tonight.”  When he made no reply she said, “Jozy!  Are you needy tonight?  Are you looking forward to what’s coming next?”

“Uh…yes,” he admitted.  “Very much.”

“Oh good, Jozy.  Very good.  But Jozy, I’m sorry, those legs of yours just aren’t up to par for me.  I’m going to hang up on you again Jozy until you get back in the tub and shave them nice and freshly smooth, and then take some more pictures to show me.  Oh, and Jozy, if you need to pee, don’t!  Hold it!  If not…well, you don’t want to get in my doghouse!  Trust me.  Remember, consequences.  So I suggest you get to it fast.  I’m looking forward to more pictures, Jozy.”  With that, she hung up on him again.

 It was twenty minutes later when her cellphone alerted her to the incoming pictures.  She studied them closely.  Much better.  She called him right away.  “Very good Jozy,” she praised as soon as he had connected the call.  “And don’t they feel so much better?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Did you put your pants on yet Jozy?”

“Yes,” he replied.  “Right after I took the pictures.”

“Uh-oh, Jozy.  Sorry.  Take them off again.  For me.  You can put them back on in a minute.  Let me know when your pants are off.”

A moment later, he replied.  “Okay, they’re off.”

“Very good Jozy.  You know what I’m doing right now?”

“Uh…what?”

“I’m lying here on my bed, thinking about you and talking to you.  But you know what else I’m doing?  I’m looking at my legs.  My pretty legs.  Would you like another picture of my legs?  I can send you one right now.”

“Yes!  Sure,” he replied quickly.

“Hang on Jozy.  One picture coming right up.”

She sent him an older picture of her legs, clad in nude nylons, and showing her red toenails.

“Got it,” he replied once the picture came through.  “I’m opening it now.”

“When he said nothing for a few moments she asked.  “Jozy, are you there?  Did you get the picture?”

“Yeah,” he replied.  “It’s great.  I’m looking at it.”

“Oh good, Jozy.  Now, while you’re looking at it, I want you to look at your legs and compare them.  What differences do you see?”

“Um…you’re wearing stockings,” he told her.

“Very good, Jozy.  Anything else?”

“Um…nail polish.  I can see the red nail polish on your toes.”

“That’s right Jozy.  Very good.  So Jozy, if we’re trying to make your legs and feet look as good as mine, then what do we need to do now?”

“Uh….”

“Oh Jozy, this is easy.  I tell you what.  By the way, do you still need to pee?”

“Yes.  And it’s starting to get bad.”

“Uh-oh,” she laughed.  “Then I guess you better hurry.  “Put your pants on Jozy and get dressed.  You need to hurry out to the store.  A drug store Jozy.  Got that?  When you get there, call me.  Do you understand?  Hurry to the drug store and call me when you get there.”  Again, she hung up on him.

Twenty minutes later, she got a call from him.  “I’m there,” he told her once she had answered.

“Good Jozy.  Are you in the store or outside?”

“I’m heading to the door now,” he replied. 

“I’ll wait until you get in the store,” she told him.

A moment later, he said, “Going through the door now.”

“Very good Jozy.  Now go find the nail polish section.”

“Nail polish!”

“Yes.  What did you think?  If you want your feet to look as pretty as mine, then you need nail polish.  And Jozy, remember, consequences if you don’t do what I tell you.  Now stay on the phone and let me know when you find the nail polish.”

It didn’t take long.  “Okay,” he said.  “I’m there.”

“Good Jozy.  Are you alone in that aisle?”

“Uh…no.  Not really.”

“Too bad Jozy.  But whether there’s anyone else there with you doesn’t matter in the least to me.  Find a bottle of red nail polish, just like I’m wearing in the picture I sent you earlier.”  It was a minute later when she asked.  “Jozy, did you find any red polish yet?  I can’t believe it could possibly be difficult.  There’s lots of red nail polishes out there.”

“Uh…” he replied.  “I’m…waiting.”

“For what?”

“Um…for another customer to leave.”

“Jozy!  Find some nail polish now.  I don’t give a damn if there’s someone else there who might see you buying it.  In fact, I prefer it.  There’s no law against a man buying nail polish, is there.  The store doesn’t care.  They just want to make a sale.  Now forget the woman there and pick out a bottle of red nail polish and take a picture to show me.  I’m waiting Jozy.  Do it now!”

It was a minute before a picture finally came through.  A bottle of red nail polish.  “Very good Jozy,” she praised him.  “Now that wasn’t so difficult was it?”  When she didn’t get an answer, she insisted, “Was it?”

“No,” came back the soft reply.

“Are you still by all the nail polish?” she asked.

“Uh…yes.  Can I buy this and get out of here now?”

“No Jozy!  Not yet.  Stay in front of all that nail polish on the shelf.  Tell me Jozy, do you still need to pee?”

“Yes!” he said softly, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Good,” she replied.  “Then do it now.”

“Now?” he asked, shocked.

“Yes.  Stand there right where you are, in front of all that nail polish that you’re soon going to be painting your toenails with, and pee.  In your pants.  Now!  I’m waiting Jozy.”

“But…”

“Eh!  Jozy, did I say you could argue with me?  No!  Now do it.”

“But…”

“Eh!” she stopped him quickly again.  “Are  you worried about doing it in public?”

“Yes!”

“Well don’t.  I don’t care.  Besides, you’ve done it in public before, remember?  You wet your pants in front of everyone the very first time we met.  At Patty’s birthday party.”

“But that was…”

“Eh!  Jozy, I’m getting ready to mark you down for your first consequence if you don’t stand there and wet those pants right now.  You don’t want to have to deal with any of my consequences.  Trust me, you won’t like them one bit.”

“But…”

“Eh!  Wet those pants.  Now!”

“Um…”

“One consequence for not wetting your pants when I told you to Jozy.  I’m writing it down now, so I won’t forget.  Do you want to make it two?”

“But…I can’t do it here.”

“Yes you can.  You still have to pee, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it.  Now.  Or there will be a second consequence marked for you as well.  And trust me Jozy, I love dishing out consequences.  I have no doubt though that you’re not going to like them at all!”

“You don’t know where I live,” he blurted out defiantly.

“Two consequences now!” she said.  “And for the record, when I asked Patty if you lived alone, I also got your address.  Now that you’ve got two consequences, I’ll be showing up at your door sooner rather than later.  And trust me, when I get there, you’re not going to be happy.”

“You have my address?” he asked uncertainly.

“Of course I do.  I told you, Patty gave it to me.  I’ve got you down for two consequences already tonight.  Do you want to make it three?”

“Um…not really,” he replied.

She could hear the uncertainty in his voice.  Balking at doing this was always a good possibility, but she decided to keep pushing him anyway.  “You’ve got ten seconds, Jozy, to wet those pants right where you’re standing, or the consequence count will be up to three!  Now wet those pants!  Hurry!  Now!  Ten…nine…eight…seven…”

“Okay,” he replied, his voice now sounding frightened.

“Let me know as soon as you’re doing it,” she told him.

It was a moment later when she heard him softly say, “Okay.”

“Are you wetting your pants in front of all the nail polish?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Let me know when you’re done.”  She wanted to laugh.  She could just imagine how he had to feel, wetting his pants in the store, probably with other customers around him.  And of course, once wet, there was nothing he could do about it and no way to hide it.

“I’m done,” he told her, sounding defeated.

“Good.  See, you can do it.  If you had done it the first time I wouldn’t have had to put down those two consequences against you.”

“But I did it,” he complained.

“But you argued with me too much and refused.  Two consequences.  Be prepared because I’ll be dishing them out soon.”

“Tonight?”

“No, not tonight.  But soon.  Now take that nail polish you picked out to the cashier in your wet pants and pay for it.  Call me as soon as you get home.”  With that, she hung up again.

Her hand had been inside her panties, playing with herself.  She removed it and glanced down at her prisoner on the floor.  Still good, but he could barely move at all.  She didn’t need to worry about him, but professional habits forced her to be careful.

She wondered how Jozy was enjoying his drive home, sitting on his car seat in wet pants.  She wondered if when he got to his apartment parking lot there would be anyone else around to see him.  It was a bit earlier than she usually called, but by now, time had been marching on.  Still, she hoped his neighbors got a good look at him.

It was another twenty minutes before her phone signaled that he was calling again.  “Are you in your apartment now Jozy?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Good.  Now Jozy, I’m sure you have no doubt at all what I want you to do next.  So tell me, what do you have to do now?”

“Uh…paint my nails?”

“Yes.  Very good Jozy.”

“But…”

“But what?  Are you going to argue with me?”

“No.  I just want to know…”

“Want to know what Jozy?”

“Um…”

“Jozy.  Spit it out.  What do you want to know.”

“Uh…if I have to do my fingernails and my toenails.”

She laughed.  “Oh Jozy.  You really are so much fun.  “No Jozy.  Not tonight.  Tonight, I just want you to paint your toenails.  But of course, if you’d like to do your fingernails too, then maybe I could consider erasing one of those consequences you earned tonight.  Consider!  I didn’t say I would take one away.”

“Oh,” Joe replied.

“Are you going to do your fingernails too?” she asked.

“No!  Just doing my toes will be bad enough.”

“Why would it be bad Jozy?  You want your legs and feet to look as good as mine, right?”

“Yes,” he replied hesitantly.

“Then it can’t be bad at all, can it.”  When he didn’t answer, she insisted.  “Can it!”

“Uh…no.  I guess not.”

“Good.  Now call me back when you’re done.  And Jozy.  Don’t take those wet pants off!  Keep them on.  You’re the one who wet them.  Right in the store for heaven’s sake.  I don’t know why you seem to love wetting your pants so much.  This is becoming a habit we’re going to have to break you of pretty soon.  But right now, leave those stinking disgusting pants on and paint your toenails.  Send me a picture when you’re done.  Ta-ta Jozy.”

It was another half an hour before she got the pictures.  She could see his bare feet and the bottom of his jeans.  The red nail polish on his toes stood out plainly.  She called him back.  “Lovely looking toes, Jozy.  Much better.  Don’t they look so much prettier now?”  When he didn’t answer right away, she said much more sternly, “I said, don’t they look so much prettier now!”

“Yes,” he replied quickly. 

“Does the sight of them turn you on?” she asked. 

“Uh…kind of,” he admitted.

She laughed.  “Oh Jozy.  That’s exactly what we wanted for you.  To make your legs look as exciting for you as mine do.  Okay Jozy.  I think you’ve finally earned a bit more fun tonight…although I have no doubt that deep down you’ve enjoyed everything you’ve done so far.  Are you ready to cum yet?  Are you ready for a great big orgasm?”

“Yes!” he replied quickly.

“Good Jozy.  You know the drill.  Hand down inside those disgusting wet pants of yours and play with yourself.  Make yourself big and hard.  Have all the fun you want.  But Jozy, I want you to keep looking at your freshly painted red toes.  I want you to consider the fact that you’re looking at your own toes while you masturbate.  I want you to remember that you’re the one who painted them.  I want you to remember picking out the nail polish.  I want you to remember wetting your pants, right there in the store in front of all that pretty nail polish.  I want you to remember all the people who probably saw you walking around in pee-soaked pants.  And I want you to consider something else Jozy.  I want you to consider the fact that when you’re done masturbating tonight, you’re not going to be removing that red nail polish at all.  It’s going to stay right where it is, on your toes.  From now on.  Until I tell you to remove it.  Doesn’t all that just excite you to no end Jozy?” 

She heard heavy breathing, but he didn’t answer.  “Jozy, tell me your feet look pretty.  Tell me your toes look pretty.”  When he didn’t answer again, she said sternly.  “Tell me your feet look pretty!”

“They’re…pretty!” he got out, his voice sounding strange and labored. 

She laughed.  He was cumming right then and there.  She gave him a few moments to recover.

“Oh Jozy.  You really are such fun.  Now remember, don’t even think about removing that nail polish.  Besides, I’ll bet you don’t have any polish remover anyway.  Keep it that way!  Now Jozy, since you seem to enjoy wetting your pants so much, and you love it so much that you keep masturbating in them every time I call, then I think you should spend the next two hours in those disgusting wet pants tonight.  And don’t bother covering up your pretty toes.  I want you looking at them as much as possible.  Two hours Jozy!  Not a minute less.  Send me a picture two hours from now and maybe I’ll let you take those disgusting pants off.  And Jozy, like I said earlier.  I really don’t know why you insist on wetting your pants like that all the time.  That’s a habit we’re going to have to do something about.  Soon!  Ta-ta Jozy.”

She ended the call.  Her prisoner hadn’t moved a muscle.  She wondered how much he had enjoyed listening to her calls tonight.  She got off the bed and went over to him.  She removed the blindfold from his eyes and the gag from his mouth.  Did you enjoy that?” she asked.  His eyes looked up at her with nothing but hate.  Well, he hadn’t exactly wanted to be caught.  He had put up a damn good fight over it.

Right in front of him, she pulled off her soaking wet panties, letting him see her naked and shaved cunt.  His eyes remained glued to it, but not for long.  She took those pussy juice soaked panties and shoved them in his mouth.  “Enjoy,” she said flatly.  “I need a shower.”

 

Under Her Thumb - 2

 

For some unknown reason, I came up with a continuation of this story.  I may or may not write more.  We’ll see.

 

Under Her Thumb – 2

By Karen Singer

 

It was several days after the party.  A party that Joe would never live down.  Why had he done it?  Why had he stood there and wet his pants…purposely…at that party?  Just because some woman he didn’t know had told him to?  He still couldn’t figure that out.  All he knew was that there were now whispered jokes going around about him throughout the entire office.  Fortunately, nobody ever said anything directly to him about it.  He would be too embarrassed if they did.  Ever since that party, he hardly ever talked to anyone at work anymore.  He was too embarrassed.  What also embarrassed him, was that ever since that party, he had masturbated to those memories a number of times.  Once, after he wet his pants.

It was a little after eight o’clock at night.  He was flipping through the TV channels trying to find anything worth watching, and he wasn’t finding anything.  He ought to cancel his TV subscription.  It was a lot of money and he rarely ever found anything interesting.  His searching was interrupted by his cellphone ringing.  Junk call went through his mind.  He grabbed his phone and checked anyway and got a bit of a shock.  The caller ID had only one letter – X.  That woman!  Hesitantly, he connected the call.  “Hello?”

“Joey!” her voice came back.  “For a minute there I was afraid you wouldn’t answer.”

“What do you want?” he asked testily.

“I’m bored,” she replied. 

“So?”

“So I thought I’d call you and have a little fun.”

“Fun?  Do you know what you did to me last time?”

She laughed.  “I didn’t do anything to you.  You did it all to yourself.  Didn’t you.”  When he didn’t answer, she insisted, “Didn’t you!”  He still didn’t answer.  “Joey, you did it to yourself.  Now tell me, you did it to yourself.”  Still no answer.  “Do I have to come over there and beat you till you think you’re going to die?  Tell me you did it to yourself!”

It took a moment, but Joe finally replied.  “I did it to myself.”  It was only after he admitted it that he realized she couldn’t come over and do anything to him because she didn’t know where he lived.  He was such a fool.  He realized that, especially when he heard her laughing through the phone line. 

“Oh Joey,” she said.  “You are such fun.  Here Joey, I’m sending you a picture.  Tell me what you think about it.”

A picture?  A few seconds later, his phone alerted him to an incoming text message.  He wasn’t surprised to see that it was from her.  There was a picture attached.  He opened it as large as his phone would allow.  It was a picture of her legs and feet.  She was wearing dark colored stockings and a different pair of high thin heels.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, studying the picture intently. 

“Would you like to see more pictures like that?” she asked.  When she got no answer, she asked more firmly.  “I said, would you like to see more pictures like that?”

“Yes,” the simple reply came back.

She laughed.  “Oh good,” she replied.  “Joey, I’ll be happy to send you a bunch of them.  In fact, in the future, we can have video calls and you can see live pictures of my legs.  Wouldn’t that be fun?”

His sexual yearnings started to go into overdrive.  “Yes,” He admitted.

She laughed again.  “Great, Joey,” she said, her voice full of humor.  “But Joey, those pictures come at a price.”

“You’re selling them?” he asked.  Then added, “How much?”

She laughed again.  “Oh Joey, you really are such fun.  Not for money of course.”

“No money, but you’re selling them?”

“Only to you, Joey boy.  Only to you.”

“But not for money,” he asked, just to be sure.

“Nope.  They won’t cost you a penny.”

“Then what?”

“Just something I want you to do for me, and then send me a picture of you.  In return, I’ll send you two more pictures of my legs as they are right now.  Two for one Joey.  What a deal.”

Joe’s mind could only come to one conclusion.  It did sound like a good deal.  “You want me to send you a picture of me first?  No problem.  I’ll take a selfie.”

“Not yet, Joey.  Not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“No.  Of course not.  I told you, you have to do something for me first.”

“Oh.  What?”

“Wet your pants first, and then take a picture of it.  That’s the picture of you that I want.  And like I said, in return, I’ll take two more pictures of my legs and send them to you.”

“Wet my pants?  Again?”

“Yes.  Now do it Joey.  Stand there and wet your pants.  Don’t go into the bathroom.  Just do it wherever you are.  Wet your pants.”

“But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just…”

“Eh!” she cut him off quickly.  “Did I say you can argue with me?  No!  Remember, there are consequences if you don’t do what I want.  Bad consequences!”

“But…”

“Eh!  Joey, I’m  waiting.  Wet your pants and send me a picture!”

“But…”

“Eh!  Don’t argue with me.  Wet them.  Now!”

Joe was confused.  What should he do?”

“Are you wetting them?” she asked.  “Trust me, you’ll be sorry if you don’t.”

He wasn’t sure what to do.  He looked again at the picture she had sent him.  She had such sexy legs.  And those high heels…”

“Joey…” she said sternly.  “I’m waiting.  Wet those pants.”

“I don’t want…”

“Do it!  Or else!  I’m betting you’re home, Joey, so there’s no one around.  Patty told me you live alone, all by yourself.  So wet those pants!  Now!  Or I’ll be mad at you.  Not only will I punish you, but there will be no more pictures.  Understand?  Now I’m waiting.”

It was true, he was alone in his apartment.  He was always alone in his apartment.  “Um…okay,” he muttered softly.

“Oh good,” she laughed.  “I’m waiting.  Tell me when you’re doing it.”

Joe stood up.  Wetting himself like that wasn’t easy.  It took him a moment, but eventually the warm wet pee was gushing out to soak the entire front of his pants and run down his legs.  “I’m…doing it,” he managed to tell her.

“Finally!” she laughed.  “Are you done yet?”

He was so embarrassed.  “Yes,” he replied.

“Take a picture and send it to me.”

He did.  It was a few moments before she said anything.  “Oh Joey,” she said.  “Great picture.”

“Now you’ll send me some pictures of your legs?”

“Oh no Joey.  Not quite yet.  You’re not done yet.”

“I’m not?  Then what?”

“Stick your hand down into your wet pants and masturbate.”

“Do what?”

“Joey!  I’m not going to keep repeating myself.  You heard me perfectly the first time!  Now stick your hand into your pee-soaked pants and masturbate.  Now!”

“Uh…”

“Do it!”

“Um…”  Before he knew it his hand was trying to worm its way down the front of his pants.

“Joey…remember, consequences if you don’t do what I say.  Bad consequences!

“But I am!” he argued.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me.  So you’ve got your hand down into those disgusting pee-soaked pants and you’re playing with yourself?”

“Yes!”

“Wonderful Joey.  What a good boy.  With your other hand, can you manage to send me a picture of you doing it?”

“I can try,” replied, concentrating more on what was now happening in his wet pants than anything else.  With his free hand, he tried to hold his cellphone and take a picture.  He also managed to send it.

“Wonderful Joey.  I’m so happy with you.  Now let me know when you’re going to cum.  Enjoy doing it inside your disgusting wet pants.  Go for it.  Let it all out.  Just think of the pictures I’ll be sending when you finish.

It took a few minutes, but he eventually managed it.  “It’s…happening!” he said as he climaxed.

She gave him a few moments to finish.  “Are you done?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, out of breath.

“Was it a good one?”

“Yes.”

“It sounds like it.  You’re out of breath.”

He didn’t reply to that.

“Good boy Joey,” she said.  “I hope you’re really embarrassed about wetting your pants and then masturbating like that.  Personally, I think it’s disgusting.  I really don’t know what’s got into you.  That’s twice now that you’ve done it.  I think that as a punishment you should spend the next hour wearing those wet pants.  Take another picture an hour from now and send it to me and I’ll send you the two new pictures.  Bye now Joey.”

Wear his wet pants for an hour?  What had happened?  What was he getting himself into?

An hour later, he took another picture of his pants.  In return, he got two more pictures of her legs and feet.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Two days later, Joe got another call from her, wanting him to do exactly the same thing.  He didn’t do quite so much arguing and the call didn’t last nearly as long.  But he wet his pants.  Masturbated in them.  And then wore them for an hour and a half before he sent her another picture.  She of course sent him a picture of her nylon covered legs.  No shoes this time, but the picture showed her painted toenails.  It was another turn-on for him.

A day later, she called again wanting the same thing.  There was no arguing at all this time, but once he had finished wetting his pants, before she let him masturbate, she had a completely new idea for him.

“Don’t start playing with yourself yet!” she ordered as soon as he said he had finished wetting himself and was sending the picture of his wet pants.  “Is your hand in your pants?”

“Not yet,” he replied, not sure what was going on now.

“Good!  You’ll get your chance in a moment.  I just want to talk for a minute first.”

Talk?  He was afraid to hear about what.

“Oh Joey,” she said.  “I’m having such fun with you, and I can tell you’re having fun too.  Aren’t you.”

When he didn’t answer, she said more sternly.  “You’re having fun too, aren’t you!”

“Yes,” he admitted hesitantly.  He was more interested in sticking his hand into his wet pants and masturbating.  He had been hoping she would call tonight and had been saving himself just for it.

“Tell me Joey, do you like the pictures of my legs that I send you?”

“Yes.  Very much!”

“Good boy.  I’m so glad.  But Joey, since you like the way my legs look so much, why don’t your legs look just as good?  Wouldn’t you love having legs and feet that look like mine?  Wouldn’t that excite you to no end knowing you could just look down at your own legs anytime at all and feel that much pleasure from them?”

“But…my legs don’t look like that.  I’m a guy.”

“Joey, Joey, Joey.  Whether you’re a guy or not doesn’t mean anything at all.  It’s all in how you take care of your legs and feet.  And more importantly, how you present them.”

“Present them?”

“Yes.  That’s what’s important.  So tell me Joey, wouldn’t it excite you to have legs that look like mine?”

“Uh…yes,” he admitted.

“Wonderful Joey,” she exclaimed.  “I just know you’re going to get so much pleasure from them.  Now the first thing you need to do is take care of your legs properly.  Do you know what that means?”

“Uh…no.”

“It means Joey, that from now on, you need to shave your legs completely.  Every day!  Understand?”

“Uh…shave?”

“Of course!  You shave your face every day, so it looks nice.  To have nice legs you’ve got to do the same thing.  You can’t have ugly hair messing them up.  You need to shave them smooth and pretty and keep them that way all the time.  Do you see Joey?  Do you understand?”

“Um…I guess.”

“Good then Joey.  Are you ready to masturbate for me?”

Joe was just glad to get off the subject of shaving his legs.  “Yes!”

“Well, you can’t yet.  Not tonight.  Tonight, you’ve got to do something else first.”

“I do?”

“Yes!  Tonight Joey, I want you to go into your bathroom and fill your tub with nice warm water.  While it’s filling, take those disgusting wet pants off and leave them on the floor.  Then take a nice relaxing bath and while you’re in there, shave your legs as smooth as mine.  When you’re done Joey.  Take pictures of them and send them to me.  I’ll let you know what to do next.  Do you have all that?  It’s not difficult.  It’s just going to take a bit of time.  But you weren’t doing anything tonight anyway, were you.”  When he didn’t reply she said more sternly, “I said, were you!”

“Uh…no,” he admitted.

“Good Joey.  Now go shave your legs and send me some pictures when you’re done.  Don’t get dressed afterwards.  And whatever you do, don’t play with yourself in the bath!  Got that?  Don’t touch that dangly thing of yours.  That’s for later.  Now I’m waiting.  I expect to see pretty shaved leg very soon from you Joey.”  With that she hung up.

Shave his legs?  Was he really going to do this?  Maybe.  What he really wanted to do was stick his hand down inside his pants and play with himself.  But he decided to play along anyway.  What could it hurt?  At least he’d be out of his wet pants right away this time.  He headed for the bathroom and started the water running in his tub.  A little while later, out of the tub and dried off, he sent her pictures of his freshly shaved legs.  Feeling those shaved legs, they felt strange to him.  And did they look better?  He had to admit, yes they did.

His phone rang and he answered it.

“Wonderful pictures Joey,” she praised him.  “I’m so happy.  Now are you ready to cum?”

“Yes!” he confirmed.

“Good boy,” she replied.  “Now put your wet pants back on and get to it.”

“Put my pants back on?  But I just took a bath.”

“So?  You can take another one…if you want.  But you’re not allowed to masturbate anymore unless you’re in pee-soaked pants.  No more.  Now put them on and get busy.  Oh, and don’t forget to send me a picture of you doing it.  I want to see.”

He was upset.  Frustrated.  But he put his pee-soaked pants back on.  They felt cold and wet and awful as he pulled them up his freshly shaved legs.  He was going to have to take a shower when this was done.  When his pants were on, he snaked one hand down inside them and began the process, while his other hand held his phone out and took pictures.  The pictures were sent long before he finished with his hand inside his pants.  Although it seemed like his orgasm was stronger than ever.

“Good boy Jozy,” she praised him.  Now don’t forget, you keep those legs shaved every day, because I’m going to be checking them whenever I call from now on.  Pictures of my bare legs and feet will be coming your way in a minute Jozy.  Enjoy them and compare them to your legs.  See if you can spot the differences.  Till next time Jozy.  Ta-ta.

Spot the differences?  At least she wasn’t making him spend most of the evening in his wet pants.  A minute later, two pictures of her bare legs came in showing her pretty smooth legs and her feet with the red polish on her toenails.  He removed his pee-soaked pants and looked down at his own smooth legs.  They looked better, but it was no contest as to whose legs were prettier.  Hers!  By a mile!

 

Under Her Thumb

 

I’m not back.  This is just a little ditty that came to me.

 

Under Her Thumb

(Did I Say You Could Do That?)

By Karen Singer

 

 

The party banter was typical.  Everybody drinking, everybody talking.  Nobody really saying anything.  The only really good thing about the party was the open bar.

I had seen him a number of times throughout the evening, but not once did I ever really look in his direction.  It was always out of the corner of my eye.  But even still, I knew I had him pegged to a T!  Through the whole party so far, I hadn’t seen him talk to a single person.  He stood there, drink in hand, and never moved from his spot next to the wall.  He was watching everyone else without seriously looking at any of them.  I had to wonder why he hadn’t left yet.  I had to wonder why he had come in the first place.

As I half-listened to the women in the group I was talking with, I was thinking more about him than anything else.  I was betting myself that I could have him under my thumb inside of an hour.  Maybe less.

At the first opportunity, I took a cue to leave those vague acquaintances I had been talking with and walk over to the bar to refresh my drink.  From there, I circled the big room, still never looking right at him, and yet keeping my eyes on him.

I walked up right next to him and stood there.  I’m not even sure he realized I was there.  Still not looking at him, I said, “Hi.”  I saw him startle a bit out of the corner of my eye.  His head turned slightly in my direction but not all the way.  He couldn’t seem to find it in himself to really look at me.  Amusing.  Still not looking at him I said, “What’s your name?”

“Joe,” he replied.

“Joe,” I repeated.

“And you?” he asked.

“Me what?”

“What’s your name?”

“Did I say you could ask my name?”

“Uh…no.”

“Then don’t!”

“Uh…okay.”

“So Joe,” I said.  “What brings you to this party?”

“I work with Patty.  Her desk is right next to mine.”

“So you’re one of her work friends,” I noted. 

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Have you talked to her tonight?  Said happy birthday?”

“Uh…no.  I said that earlier today.  At work.”

“But you came to this party anyway.”

“Yeah.  She invited me.”

“Good boy,” I praised, fighting the urge to laugh.  So far, he still hadn’t turned his head to really look at me.  His head was slightly down as he looked out at all the people he probably didn’t even know.  I was fairly sure he wasn’t looking any of them in the eye either.  “Are there a lot of people here from where you work?” I asked.

“Just a few,” he replied.

“That’s nice I told him.  So you came, but you haven’t talked to Patty at all yet.”

“Not yet,” he said.

“Tell me,” I said.  “Have you seen her here?”

“Of course,” he replied.

“Don’t look at her!” I ordered.  “Tell me, what’s she wearing?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t look at her, but tell me what she’s wearing.”

“Uh…a dress.”

“No.  Describe it!”

“I…can’t.  I don’t know.”

“I figured.  Here’s an easier question for you.  What color is my hair?”  I saw him start to turn and I quickly let out a sharp retort.  “Eh!  Did I say you could look at me?”  There was no doubt he was startled now.  “Keep your eyes down.  Look at the floor!”  Out of the corner of my eye still, I could see how startled he was.  I could also see he was looking down at the floor.  I had no doubt he was paying more attention to my legs though, which amused me to no end.  “What are you drinking Joe?”

“Coke.”

“Just Coke?”

“Just Coke,” he confirmed.

“It’s an open bar.  Why not take advantage of it?”

“Uh…I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Religious?”

“No.  I just don’t like anything with alcohol in it.”

I shook my head, reached over and took his mostly empty glass from his hand.  When his head started to turn up I quickly said, “Eh!  I didn’t say you could look at me.”  His head went down again.  “Follow me,” I said.  “Let’s get you a better drink.”

“But I don’t drink!” he complained as I led the way toward the bar.

I was amused that he was still following me.  “Don’t worry,” I said loud enough for him to hear behind me.  “Nothing with alcohol.”

At the bar, I leaned over and talked to the guy making the drinks and told him what I wanted.  He looked at me strangely.  “And put a straw in it,” I finished.  He shrugged, but moved away to make the drink.  A minute later, he was back, and handed it to me.  I turned around and handed it to Joe. 

“What’s this?” he asked as he looked at the drink with the cherry on top.

“It’s a Shirley Temple,” I told him.  “Now come on.  And Joe, I still haven’t given you permission to look at me, but tell you what, you can look at my legs all you want.  I’m sure you’d like that.”  Saying nothing more, I led him right back to his original spot by the wall.

“What’s a Shirley Temple?” he asked once we were back standing next to each other again.

“A kid’s drink,” I told him.  “No alcohol.”

“A kid’s drink?”

“Drink it!  All of it.  Through the straw.  And don’t look at me.  Just my legs.”  He was too easy.  I turned my head to watch him now as he put the straw to his lips and take a sip of the drink.

“It’s fruity,” he said.

“Yes.  Drink it.”

I let him sip at it for a few minutes.  I didn’t miss the way his head never turned in my direction, but his eyes kept glancing at my legs.  “Do you like my legs Joe?” I asked.  I saw that slight startle in him again.  When he didn’t answer, I asked again.  “Joe!  Do you like my legs?”

“Yes, they’re…”

“Pretty?  Beautiful?  Sexy?” I suggested.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Good,” I said.  “I’m very proud of my legs.  It’s why I usually wear very short skirts and very high heels.  Do you like my shoes?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

There was no doubt he was looking at my feet more seriously now.  “Finish your Shirly Temple Joey,” I told him.  “You can keep looking at my legs while you drink it.”

I stood there next to him, watching him out of the corner of my eye as patiently as possible while he did nothing more than drink that stupid Shirly Temple and stare down at my legs and feet.  When he finished it, I took it from him.  “Follow me Joey,” I told him.  “Let’s get you another one.  Open bar, remember?  Got to take advantage of it.  Just enjoy my legs Joey while you follow me.”

He was simply too easy.  He followed me back to the bar where I got him a second Shirley Temple.  I myself carried the drink as I led him back to our place on the wall where he had spent the entire party so far.  “Here,” I told him as I handed him the drink.  “Drink up and enjoy my legs.  I’ll bet you don’t get to stare at a woman’s legs that often, do you.”  He took a sip of the drink, but he didn’t answer my question.  “I said, I’ll bet you don’t get to stare at women’s legs very often, do you.”  Again, he didn’t answer, but I had my answer to that question.  “Oh,” I said.  “You do look.  You look a lot.  You just don’t look directly at them so nobody can see you looking.  One of those.”

He didn’t answer.  He just looked straight down at the floor as he sipped that dumb drink.  Not really looking at my legs now.  I moved my feet clad in exquisite black velvet high heels.  He noticed that movement and his eyes returned to them.  “Look at my feet, Joey,” I told him.  “Don’t take your eyes off them.  Enjoy the show.”

I occasionally moved my feet into slightly different standing positions.  After a minute or so, his eyes started to look away.  “Eh!” I admonished.  “Did I say you could look away?  No!  So look!”  His eyes went right back to my feet again.  I was beginning to get wet inside my panties.

“Joey,” I said, looking out at the sea of partying people.  “While you’re drinking that kid’s Shirley Temple, I want you to put your other hand in your pants pocket.”

He started to look up.  “Eh!  Did I say you could look at me?  No!  Just my feet!  And you better be looking at them while you drink that thing.”  His head went down again, and his lips wrapped around the straw.  “Put…your…hand…in…your…pocket Joey!” I ordered, speaking each word slowly and clearly.  There was a slight movement next to me and I had no doubt he had done as I asked.  “Deep in your pocket Joey,” I told him.  I waited a few moments, watching his head out of the corner of my eye.  Then I laid it on him.  “Now,” I said.  “Stand there and drink you nice Shirley Temple like a good little boy, and with your other hand in your pocket, start playing with your dick.”

“Huh?”  Once again he started to turn his head.

“Eh!  Do as you’re told!  I didn’t say you could do anything else.  Look at my feet and play with your dick.  Make it hard.  Keep it hard.  Keep playing with it inside your pants while you look at my feet!  Don’t even think about not doing what I tell you or there will be consequences you don’t want to think about.  Understand?  Now do it!”

Not once had I allowed the volume of my voice to raise to a level where anyone else could hear it.  Not once did I have any expression on my face other than kindness.  I had said it all softly but firmly, in a tone I was hoping he’d understand.  Once said, I simply stood there next to him watching him out of the corner of my eye, occasionally moving my feet and legs to give him a slightly different view of them.  And out of the corner of my eye, I not only noticed the slight movement in the front of his pants, that bulge where his hand was, was getting bigger.  Once again I had to stifle a laugh.

“Keep playing with yourself,” I told him.  “I didn’t say you could stop.  Keep playing…until you cum in your pants.”

Once again he started to turn toward me.  Once again I admonished him.  “Eh!  I still didn’t say you could look at me!  Play with yourself!”  I was silent, standing there waiting until I noticed he was once again working on his dick inside his pants.  “Don’t forget your drink,” I reminded him.  “It’s an open bar.  And don’t worry.  I’ve got all night.  I’m going to stand here with you until I’m sure you’ve let yourself splatter everything right inside your pants.  So enjoy yourself Joey.  That much, I am saying you can do.”

It took a little while, but not too long.  The sound of the straw in his drink coming up empty reached my ears, and I looked down to see him still sipping, still looking at my feet and legs…and I realized by his slight shaking he was trying to hide, that he was cumming in his pants right there and then.  Even out of the corner of my eye I could see the small wet spot beginning to form on the front of his pants.  It was a moment to savor.  The dumb dork was simply too easy.

“Good boy, Joey,” I praised him, still never once really looking at him.  “Good boy.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance down at the front of his pants.  I had no doubt he was embarrassed as hell.  Once again I had to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape.

“Joey,” I said, wondering if he was dumb enough to keep going.  “Take that empty drink back to the bar and get yourself another one.”

“But…” he started.

“Eh!  Did I say you could argue with me?  No!  I told you to get yourself another drink.  Another Shirley Temple.  Now go!”

“But…”

“Eh!” I admonished sternly.  “Consequences, remember?”

“But…”

“Go!”

I wasn’t sure if I should be amazed or not that the dork actually went.  All the way across the room with that small wet spot on the front of his pants.  I watched as he handed his glass to the bartender and asked for another drink.  A few minutes later, he was walking back with another drink, the red cherry on top telling me it was another one of the kid’s drinks.

When he got close to me, I saw his head start to come up toward my face.  “Eh!” I admonished.  “Keep those eyes down where they belong!”  His head bowed again, and he took his place next to me.  “Good boy, Joey,” I praised.  “Drink your Shirly Temple like a good little boy now.”

I stood there waiting and watching him out of the corner of his eye.  He had been so easy, and my panties were getting so wet.  “What’s your phone number?” I asked as I reached into my purse and pulled out my cellphone.

“My what?” he asked.

“Your phone number!  What is it?”

“Uh…”  It took him a moment, then he recited a string of numbers.  I entered them into my phone.  “Give me your phone,” I told him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled his cellphone out and handed it to me.  I entered my own phone number.  I handed it back to him.

He looked at the phone.  “I don’t see your name,” he said.

“Did I say I was going to let you know my name?  No!  I didn’t.  My number is under X.  If X pops up on your screen that’s me.  Now put your phone away.”

I watched as he put the phone back into his pocket.  “Don’t forget your drink.  It’s free, so drink it all.”

I stood there patiently for a long time while he worked with the straw on that drink.  He had just cum while standing right next to me.  This was his third Shirley Temple, on top of most of a glass of Coke he had drank earlier.  I had a pretty good idea what all that liquid going into his bladder was going to do to him, especially after cumming.  Men!  They’re always so predictable.  Once again, I moved my feet and legs while he drank that stupid kid’s drink so he could get a fresh view of them. 

Finally, I heard the telltale sound of the straw in his drink coming up empty.  His head finally came up a little as he removed the straw from his mouth.  “Did you enjoy your drink?” I asked.

“It’s not…bad,” he admitted.

“Good.  I’m glad,” I told him.

“I need to…”

“Eh!” I stopped him quickly.  “Did I say you could say anything?”

“But…”

“Eh!”  He was silent again.  “Let me guess,” I said.  “You’ve got to pee.”

“Yeah,” he replied softly.  “I’ll be…”

“Eh!”  I waited a moment.  “Did I say you could go anywhere?  No!  So just stand there and pee.”

“What?”

“Eh!  Did I say you could argue with me?  No!  Consequences, remember?”

“Like what?”

“Like…how would you like it if I pulled you across my knee right here in front of everyone else, and spanked your ass good!  Spanked it until you peed helplessly in front of all of them, and then kept spanking you until you cried like the little kid you are at heart and ran out of here?  Huh?  Would you rather I did that to you?  And in case you’re wondering if I’d really do it, I’ll tell you this much, I’ve done it before!”

“You have?”

“Yes!  Now pee.  Wet those silly pants of yours.”  He didn’t need to know that I actually hadn’t done that…ever.  But I had done things that were close.  It was simply the first nasty consequence I could think of at the time.

“I’m waiting,” I said after a few moments.  I could tell he wanted to say something, but he was too afraid.  “Joey…” I said, my eyes still never looking at him.  “Let it out.  Let it out into your pants.  If you don’t….”

“Please…”

“Eh!”  That stopped his pathetic begging quickly.  “Pee!  Now!  In your pants!  Let it out.  In your pants.  In front of everyone here.”

Once again I waited, but it wasn’t long.  It was the odor that hit me before anything else.  I turned my head fully to look.  “Good boy, Joey,” I told him.  “That’s a very good boy.”  I noticed a few people starting to look at him now.  It was about time!

“Now go take that empty glass of yours,” I told him.  “And walk straight across the room in your pee soaked pants, and get yourself another Shirley Temple to drink.  Now Joey!  Now!  Let them all see your wet pants.  Get yourself another Shirley Temple to drink, and bring it right back here.”

There were more people looking at him now.  “Go!” I ordered. 

He was hesitant at first, but eventually he moved.  Slowly, he made his way through the people, across the room to the bar.  Almost everyone was looking at him.  I saw him hand the glass to the bartender and order himself another drink.  I never saw him walk back, because I wasn’t there.  I left the party.