The Nanny

THE NANNY

Having spent the night in the hanger, punished as ordered by the Madam, Jodi Lynn’s about to meet and face her employer face to face as he arrives at the complex.   

Chapter  Three

       Hearing the man’s voice, glancing up through swollen eyes, she blurredly stares toward the early morning sunlight glaring through the crack of the door to the mechanic’s shop from the virtually vacant hanger.  Jodi Lynn twists by her wrists from the chain hanging from the block and tackle, having struggled, kept awake for the better part of the night after also ’servicing’ her escort from the flight as punishment for her frustrated outburst.        

       Kept naked, her sleek body stretches, her large breasts firm, symmetrical, quivering off her chest above her hollowed, rippling stomach.  For the past few hours her orifices have been stuffed as ordered.  A bright red ball gag’s filling her mouth, tautly spreading her lips apart as a constant stream of drooling saliva drips across her bare breasts.  An oversized phallus fills her stretched vagina, helping to force her thighs to spread, along with the chrome butt plug still engulfing her anus, it never having been removed.

       Numbly watching him silently step past, positioning himself behind her, she feels his hands gripping, twisting at the chrome butt plug.  Her head’s jerked back as he roughly unties the rope from the back of the chocker collar.  Hips reflexively flinching as the thick ball squeezes downward, tugging from her insides, she feels the sensation of it pressing against the phallus.  Squeezed against the rim of her puckered anus, she feels it finally jerk, ‘plopping’ out.

       “Oomph!”  Grunting from the gag, she twists, tiptoes as she feels his hands sliding between her thighs, twisting, surprisingly sliding the phallus smoothly out from her stretched vagina.  Stepping toward her front side, he reaches behind her neck, untwists the ball gag’s strap, cupping her saliva smeared chin in his palm, gripping the wet ball with his other hand, he flicks it out from between her yawning lips.  Turning, the assorted instruments in hand, he tosses them across the shelf, taps a button on the wall.  The whir of the chain echoes in the empty room as the block and tackle slowly begins to lower.  After a foot or so, flicking the button a second time, the sound fades as the chain stiffens.

       Continuing to stare toward the man, her arms still raised above her head, her elbows bend, lower to just in front of her chin, allowing her to stand flat footed.  Sleepless, functioning primarily on adrenaline, the aches, the pains haven’t dulled much as she’s mentally drained, past the point of even caring that her abused body’s still naked in front of him.

       Stepping in front of her, whiffing a capsule across her upper lip, he backs up a step as grunting, coughing, her head jerks back and forth while her body twists under the rattling chains.

       “Well, good morning.”  He acknowledges, again stepping directly in front of her, placing both hands across the upper curves of either side of her hips.  “How was your night?”

       Lowering her head, eyes toward the floor, she feels her legs twitching, her aching calves and burning thighs barely able to support her, caused from alternating back and forth on the balls of her feet, tiptoeing all night.

       “I asked how you are.”  He scolds, squeezing the sides of her thighs between his tightening fingers, thumbs.  “I would have thought you might begin to learn, the way you spent the night after your pleasant meeting with the Madam!”  He adds while eyeing her up and down, sliding his hands across her naked flesh.  “When I take you up to the house, you’re going to face Master DeSade right off, and then the Mistress again afterwards.  Unable to resist squeezing her breasts gently between his fingertips, he continues.  “You better realize what’s happening, and most important, accept it!  That thing about Singapore, that’s real, understand?  Look at me!”

       Raising her swollen eyes, her arms and elbows limply sway between their faces as his hands meld her breasts.  Blinking, she’s barely able to rasp with her hoarse voice.  “I’m okay, I… I guess.  At…  At least as good as can be expected.”

       Staring across her flushed and puffy, sleepless face, he still sees the rare exotic beauty underneath, even without the makeup.  Lifting her chin in the palm of his hand, her deep brown eyes stare hazily back toward his through her squinting eyelids, her perky nose with a tinge of mucus glistening from a nostril, the full, pouty lips finishing her both youthful but classical facial features.

       Lowering his hands, feeling across the firm curves of her hips, glancing down toward her symmetrical breasts standing out from underneath her bent elbows, he thinks to himself there’s not a snowball’s chance in Hell Master DeSade will allow anyone to dispose of her.  Reaching for her wrists, he directs her.  “Listen, I’m taking the cuffs off, relieve yourself, go jump in the shower… Take another quick one, hair and all… Wake yourself up.”  As he works the shackles, he adds.  “You’ve got ten minutes.  There’s still a fresh towel to dry off with back there.  Leave it in there when you’re done.  I’ll be waiting, cleaning up out here.”

       Dropping one arm as it’s uncuffed, the other almost immediately, she lowers her head, quietly turns back toward the shower stalls as he watches her naked body from behind, boyish butt and all as he catches a glimpse of the rounded curves of her swaying breasts protruding out from either side as she raises her arms above her head, her hands twisting her hair up into a loose bun as she walks away.  Smiling, he can’t help thinking of her lips around his cock just a few hours ago as he had her kneeling right here under the block and tackle, deep throating him.  He’ll have to remember to thank the Madam for that freebee.

       Straightening up the counter, hearing the inrushing whirl of propellers, stepping toward the door, he glances up as the familiar jet black, Bell 407, the sports car of helicopters, swoops across the field, past the airstrip, toward the other helipad conveniently located beside the main house.  Master DeSade’s arrived.

       Turning, quickly walking toward the shower, he hears the water, sees the steam lifting toward the ceiling as he catches a glimpse of her turning the water off, grabbing for the towel.

       “You won’t need that now, he’s here.”   He orders, grabbing the towel, tossing it in the bin.  “Come on.”  Turning, he grips her wrist, leads her toward the door, her wet footprints trailing across the floor, her naked body dripping wet.

       Following silently behind, she’s led into the morning sunlight stark naked, the sun blinding her hazed eyes.  “Wait here!”  She hears his order as he steps quickly back into the hanger.  Crossing her arms over her breasts, she squints outward from the tarmac.  Her eyes focusing, she realizes the ocean’s in sight from the far end of the runway to past the main house, where she also notices the landed helicopter’s blades still slowly rotating. 

       “Drop those hands!”  She hears his stern voice again, glances back toward him stepping out the hanger door.  Slowly obeying, she lowers her arms toward her sides.  “He told you the rules.  The sooner you learn to obey them; the better off you’ll be.”  He scolds.  “Don’t touch your tits or ass again to hide them.  Understand?

       Eyes lowered, utterly exhausted, she mutters.  “Yea…Yes, okay.”

       “Another thing, that’s, yes Sir.  Get used to it!”  He instructs.  “Say it.  Yes Sir!”

       Nodding, slowly nodding as she feels nauseated, she whispers.  “Yes Sir!

       “Yes Sir, what?”  He scolds as he twists her toward him, cups her right breast in the palm of his left hand while jiggling it gently up and down, with the choker collar and a pair of wrist cuffs clipped to its “O” rings in his other.

       “Yes Sir!”  She mutters.  “I… I won’t touch my breasts or butt again… Sir.”

       “Pussy?”  He nods.  “Your pussy?”

       Glancing down, irritated by the constant humiliation, wanting to lie down, pass out, she blurts.  “I won’t touch my pussy either, okay?... Sir!”

       “Careful!”  He scolds, gripping tighter, firmly twisting her breast inward.  “You know what that attitude of yours got you last night!”  Squeezing firmly, twisting further, he repeats.  “Don’t you?”

       “Ouch!... Yes… Yes Sir!”  She yelps, her already sore, aching breasts burning in his grip as she tiptoes.  “I’m… I’m sorry Sir, I’m sorry!”  She mutters, the sharp pain jolting her.

       “Let’s get these on.”  He states matter of fact, the pair black leather wrist cuffs swaying from the chain in his hand.

       Slipping a cuff around each wrist as she quickly raises them out in front of her, strapping them shut, he lets her hands drop, rest down across the front of her thighs, the chain rattling.  Slipping a black chocker collar around her throat, under her drenched strands of stringy hair, he secures it behind her neck as her firm breasts, thrust outward off her chest, and press together between her arms.  Slowly stepping around her, glancing at her soaked, naked body in the sunlight, he glances out toward the main house.

       “Come on!”  Sternly commanding as he turns from the doorway, out onto the rough inlaid stone drive leading to the mansion.  Again glancing back over his shoulder, he hesitates a brief moment, glances toward her.  “Let’s go, come on!”

       Hesitating, stepping haphazardly across the rough surface, barefoot, she alternates between tiptoeing and the balls of her feet, trying her best to carefully watch where she’s stepping while keeping her head lowered with her eyes toward the stones.

       Smiling, he slowly shakes his head.  “You’re going to learn not to worry about walking around barefoot.  Remember, you’re going to be naked most of the time around here.”  Reaching, gripping her by an elbow, he picks up the pace, tugging her briskly along, on her tiptoes, breasts jerking, her head tilting back as her damp hair clings to her shoulders.

       Biting down on her lip, grunting from the piercing gravel irritating the balls of her feet, she struggles along for what seems like long minutes.  Ignoring the exclusive layout of the estate bordered by the crystal blue ocean, the stone drive warming under the Caribbean sun, they finally approach the mansion, past the helicopter.  Led toward the side entrance to the rear wing overlooking the water she’s finally allowed a brief respite, to scrap the gravel from the bottoms of her toes before being taken inside.

       Stopping in front of a large, dark trimmed double door, he taps on the inlaid mahogany wood.

       “Yes, send her in!”  The voice, obviously the same as she heard from the monitor on the plane, echoes from the other side as the door buzzes, automatically swinging open, allowing her to enter.

       Stepping into the room, spacious, the rear glassed wall with drapes opened, overlooking the ocean, she sees him setting behind his oversized desk apparently reading over some papers in his hand.  Lowering her eyes, she hears the door shutting behind her.

       “In front of the desk… Directly in front!”  He orders as the drapes begin closing behind him, blocking the view, dropping the room into shadows, yet still dimly lit in front of the desk.  “Come on girl, now!”

       Obeying, she takes the few steps, stopping just a step or two in front of the desk, eyes still lowered as her breasts heaving, press together between her arms, her hands crossed, fingers clinched as the chain slightly rattles, sways between the cuffs.

       “Raise those arms straight up over your head, stretch up on your tiptoes, the backs of your hands together, do a complete circle for me.  Do it now!”  He orders, stern but not overly loud as he collects the papers, dropping them into a drawer.  “Slowly, with your tits and butt pushed out.  I want a good look at you in person.”

       Lack of sleep, the pain of stretching all night, the cruelty of the objects stuffed inside her orifices, she physically struggles to obey.  Staggering, she nearly trips against the desk while raising her cuffed wrists up past her face, the chains swinging, scraping across her cheek as she stretches, tiptoes while slowly turning around in a clockwise motion.  Keeping her bloodshot eyes lowered, biting her lip, she finally makes the complete circle, attempting to keep her butt pushed out as her breasts bounce, swaying across her thrust out torso.

       “Stay like you are, but turn and face away, tiptoe. Arch backwards over the desk, but don’t lay on it yet!”  He orders in a commanding voice.

       Again hesitantly obeying, she turns, arches back, spreading her feet as she attempts to tiptoe, almost falling in her weakened state.  Feeling the chains from the cuffs scraping across the desk, she stops, barely able to hold herself up, her naked body in a partial semi circle, breasts spreading, yet standing firmly up off her arched torso as her damp, straggly hair spreads across the desktop.

       Standing, walking around the desk, he steps directly in front of her twisted, naked body.  Spread those legs, girl.”  He orders as he leans between  her thighs, slides his arms to either side of her, his palms resting flat on the desk as he watches her glistening melons quivering, spreading as she grunts under her breath, seriously straining to remain bent backwards without falling back across the desk.

       “Press your hands and the back of your head on the desk, along with your butt and keep bent back the way you are.”  He orders as he lowers his hand across her bald pubic mound, resting it flatly, fingers spread with the tip of his thumb pressing across the nub of her clitoris.  Parting her thighs with his hips as her feet spread wider, her butt cheeks scraping against the corner of the desk, he softly adds.  “I’m going to explore your orifices, if you move, or say a word, even as much as a whimper, I’ll admonish you, severely.”

       Closing her eyes, feeling the top of her head scraping against the desk, arching outward, pushing with her hands, she forces her body to bow as she weakly thrusts towards him.  Feeling the weight of her fatigued body lifting, she feels his thumb manipulating her clitoris along with the head of his shaft sliding between the folds of her vulva.

       Pressing across her pubic mound with one hand, the tip of the head of his cock firmly guided into her spread slit, he slides his other hand up across her arched stomach, cuffs it around the base of her thrust out left breast, the pain from the needle pricks no more then a dull ache.  Letting his thumb and forefinger tweak the bud of her swelling nipple, he gently rocks his hips forward, letting his shaft glide in a couple, three inches between her spread thighs, his thickening shaft spreading the moist flesh of the folds of her labia.

       Feeling his shaft gliding inside her as his thumb continues to gently caress the nub of her clitoris, she keeps her head pressed back against the desk while her butt cheeks press across its corner.  Eyes closed, exhausted, arching her back, the motion of his shaft gliding into her, gently, each rhythmic motion slowly engulfing her, exiting her, an inch or so deeper at a time, actually feels soothing, if not surreal.

       He feels each gently guided thrust into her spreading orifice surround his swelling cock like a warm, moist glove as the walls of her vagina grip, stretch around his shaft as he slides it almost carefully back and forth, a few seconds in between, in and out, three inches, four, five inches.  Manipulating her breast, he feels her areola hardening, the tip of her nipple, a thick bud as her other firm breast gently sways, its nipple also noticeably hardening.  Tweaking, melding her clitoris between his other thumb and forefinger, he can sense the sensation of it also swelling, twitching as her hips press across the desk, spreading a little wider apart.  Glancing down between her spread thighs, he watches as his glistening cock, the blue veins visible, slides back and forth, each time a little deeper, dragging the moist folds of flesh from her labia back and forth with it as her hips begin to noticeably twitch.

       Reflexively nibbling on her lower lip as she keeps her eyes closed, she can’t help experiencing the sensations spreading throughout her naked body.  Long minutes pass as she finds herself submitting to the constant feel of his warm, thick shaft almost affectionately massaging her tight vagina walls, continuing its rhythmic thrust ever deeper with each stroke filling her vagina, the head of his cock seemingly pressing into her womb as all but an inch or so of his not only thick, but nine inch shaft glides back and forth, in and out while her clitoris pulses under its constant caressing.

       Stopping, holding still, his hips remain motionless with just the last inch of the base of his cock exposed.  Sliding his fingers from her twitching clitoris, he slips his hand upwards, the fingertips barely gliding across her hollowed stomach, rippling abs as he cups the firm mound of her right breast, tweaks its thickened nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he cups both breasts.

       Trying to lay motionless herself, she feels her chest reflexively arching upward toward his hands resting on her naked flesh, toward his fingers caressing her sensitive nipples even as her thighs also seem to spread wider around his hips on their own, her vagina twitching, gripping his stationary, throbbing cock.  She senses her body accepting his manhood, the warmth inside her as her breasts tingle from his touch.  His taking of her body, her exhausted state of mind temporarily blocks out the circumstances of this continuing surreal experience as she finds herself twitching her hips, attempting to engulf even more of his shaft, her heart pounding a little harder.

       Glancing down across her incredible body, naked, glistening underneath him, feeling his cock throbbing, oozing, he takes a breath as he grips her perfect breasts tighter, twists and lifts.  A sudden thrust and he rams completely inside of her stretched slit, scraping his hard shaft across her clitoris, stretching, pressing it against the bottom of her pubic mound as he tiptoes, lifting her hips as their naked bodies slam together.  Pumping, ramming, back and forth, stroking in and out, stretching her breasts, he feels her body trembling, jerking, her hips pumping along with his as the back of her head pounds against the wooden desk.

       “Ooooh!!!....Aggghhhh!!!”  Grunting, moaning, feeling his shaft ramming, impaling her, grinding across her sensitive, engorged clit, her breasts  twisted, jerked, her body involuntarily bucks across the desk as she feels the breath knocked from her lungs, her womb ready to explode as his thick shaft pounds in and out of her gripping vagina in rhythm with her grinding hips.

       Just as suddenly, he stops.   Quickly releasing her breasts, he jerks out from between her still pumping thighs, letting her naked body fall limply across the desk.  Watching her twitching, twisting on her back with her cuffed hands above her head, chain rattling against the wood surface, her stomach rippling from her raspy breathing, he leans across her, looks down into her stunned face.  “Remember the rules?  No Cumming!”

       Stepping around the desk, sitting, he hits the button letting the door swing open.   The man, patiently waiting outside, quietly enters, approaches the desk.

       Glancing toward Jodi Lynn’s naked body still laying across the desk, quivering, Master DeSade nods toward him.  “I’m done with her for now. Take her to Madam, she’ll be expecting her next.”

       “Yes Sir.” A quick acknowledgement as he grips her by the cuffed chain, tugs her limp body from the desk, helps her stand erect in her dazed state as her arms drop limply toward her sides, the chain stretching in front of her.

       “You forget something?’  Master DeSade quietly asks as he appears to be glancing back toward the papers in the drawer.

       Glancing glassy eyed toward the desk, her body, both mentally and physically still in turmoil, aching from exhaustion, confusion, and unbelievingly, even from barely missing a climax, her emotions seem scrambled, her mind unable to think clearly.  “Wha…What did I… I forget?  Shrugging her shoulders, still staring downward past her heaving breasts, the terrible thought resonates in the back of her mind of the man standing beside her, maybe ready to hurt her again.

       “For fucking you!  Aren’t you going to thank me?’  He quips, looking up from the papers, staring at her while waiting for an answer.

       Feeling the chain slightly jerked in front of her, her head lowered, slowly shaking it back and forth, she half heartedly stammers.  “Oh, thank… Thank you for… For fucking me.”

       “For fucking you… What?”  He scolds as the man guiding her begins to slowly lead her through the open door, taking her to the Madam.

       Glancing at the man, back toward the desk as the door’s shutting, she humiliatingly answers.  “Thank you for fucking me… Sir!”

End Part Three