Strictly Evil
by
beck_and_call@hotmail.com
Chapter 4
My Mistress Lori and I drove to work together. I should say, she drove
while I bounced around in the trunk. I hardly got any sleep the
previous three days and had a long difficult day ahead of me. My body
and mind craved sleep but I had to muster up some self-control.
Lori and I worked all morning in my office. I actually shared an office
with another woman, but she called in sick that day. I was lucky enough
to have a private bathroom there, too. At least I thought I was lucky.
Lori would soon prove otherwise.
At around 12:30, we sent an intern out for lunch. I ordered a tuna
salad on rye and Lori ordered a taco salad. When our order arrived,
Lori promptly took my sandwich and flushed it down the toilet, right in
front of the intern. He looked at us both and just shook his head and
left. I was starved more than I was mortified. I cried real tears in
front of Lori and got down on my knees.
"Please, Mistress, I'm famished. I need food. I can't stand it," I
blabbered.
Lori planted her pert rump on my desk and crossed her legs, letting her
burgundy pump swing playfully from her toes. She dug her fork into her
salad and put way too much lettuce, cheddar, and ground beef into her
mouth. With overstuffed cheeks, she mocked me.
"Don't worry bitch, I'll make sure I leave you over some tortilla
chips. What are you so angry about anyway? I paid for the damn tuna
sandwich!"
Lori kept her word and let me have the chips. I hungrily chewed and
swallowed every last bit. I even licked the salsa from the bottom of
the plastic bowl, while she watched, noisily slurping iced tea from a
jumbo-sized cup.
"Thirsty, bitch?" Lori said with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Yes, Mistress," I answered, with fear in my voice.
"Good, follow me."
Lori led me into the bathroom where she showed me a large box. It was
apparently delivered when I was otherwise engaged at the hotel.
"It's a portable toilet. Just some pieces of plastic and chrome shipped
discreetly from a medical supply company. It shouldn't be very hard to
assemble. I think all you'll need is a Phillips screwdriver."
I think I understood what this all meant and meekly began to assemble
the toilet. Lori left my office while I worked putting corner "A" into
slot "B." She returned just in time to see the results of my handiwork.
Lori brought a paper shopping bag with her and lifted a very large
funnel from inside.
"You did say you were thirsty, didn't you my pet?"
I nodded and Lori went behind me to cuff my hands. She glanced toward
the bathroom floor; there was an area to the left of the real toilet
big enough for the portable. She set it down there and had me get down
on my back and slide underneath it. Through the metal frame of the
toilet, Lori placed a blindfold across my eyes. She then placed the
pointed end of the funnel in my mouth and wedged the flared end down
into the metal frame; it was a perfect fit. She lowered the seat and
closed the bathroom door.
Lori finally slid down her skirt and panties, and sat down with a sigh.
She leaned forward and opened my fly. I was semi-erect.
"My, my, bitch. Aren't we randy today."
As she giggled, a steady stream of her urine splashed into the funnel
and hit the back of my throat. I gagged, but kept my composure. Lori
drank a lot of tea that afternoon and I certainly felt it. It was
pungent, frothy, and filled my belly, but I swallowed every last drop.
I was overwhelmingly bloated from my battle with the bathwater, but
this tasted rather pleasant compared to the dirty, soapy water; warm
and salty -- and it came straight from the source. I didn't realize it
at the time, but Lori applied the harness to my privates as I was
indulging in her womanly nectar.
My cock grew as I drank and soon my poor organ felt the evil bite once
again.
Lori stood up and pulled up her panties and skirt. She washed her hands
and re-applied her makeup in front of the mirror. She left the bathroom
without saying a word, shutting the light, and closing the door behind
her.
I lay there in darkness and silence for what must have been an hour. My
poor wrists were numb from having to bear the brunt of my weight and my
jaw was sore from having to stretch around the funnel.
I soon heard the familiar click-clack of high heels enter my office and
approach the bathroom. But something was wrong. It sounded like two
sets of heels.
"Laying down on the job, huh Jason?"
"Oh my god," I thought. It was my boss' voice, Ms. Hullaby. She was in
her early 40's, a tall redhead with a slender figure; a very nice
woman--or so I thought.
"Lori tells me that you have qualities that weren't listed on your
resume. Perhaps you'd like to share them with me now," Ms. Hullaby said
in a gentle, but mocking tone.
I was silent.
"Bitch, answer the boss lady!" Lori interjected.
Muffled by the funnel, I replied in the affirmative.
"Good," Ms. Hullaby responded. "Excuse me, Lori, I think I'd like to
try out the new toilet."
Lori left and I heard my boss lift her dress and lower her panties.
"I'm on the rag today. I hope you don't mind, Jason."
Soon, Ms. Hullaby's special elixir was spiralled downward through the
funnel. It tasted different than Lori's but I didn't waste a drop. My
boss replaced the used tampon with a fresh one and washed her hands.
"Thank you Jason. Your career here at Henderson, Frye, and Hullaby
will definitely take a new direction. You've heard of the glass
ceiling? I think we've just found the glass toilet."
Ms. Hullaby stepped out to speak to Lori. I heard them on the other
side of the door.
"I never would have suspected ole Jason as a Bloody Mary kind of guy.
I've always suspected him as the Gin and Tonic type. Anyway, I spoke to
my lawyer and I think we can make a contractual arrangement with Jason.
I pay his debts and you train him for me. When you're through, I get
him lock, stock, and barrel."
"And me?" Lori interjected.
"You get Jason's old job and salary. And I get him at my constant beck
and call. In fact, I don't really care for the name Jason. I think I'll
re-christen him becky, since he'll be at my beck and call, now and
forever."
"Lovely. Don't worry Lisa. I understand what you're looking for. I'll
brake the old Jason and rebuild him in the image that you have in mind.
When I'm done, his own mother won't recognize him. I'll soon have him
doing things that he wouldn't even dare say aloud. As bad as he thinks
things are now for him, like they say, 'You ain't seen nothin' yet!'
He'll merely be becky, slave to Ms. Lisa Hullaby--nothing more.
"Perfect. The two of you can live in my condo in the city. I think
you'll find everything you'll need there and more. In fact, if you do a
REALLY GOOD job, I may even allow you to continue living there at your
current rent. That's almost a 400% discount! My dear becky and I will
just have to make do in the 'burbs. I don't think it's what he had in
mind, though, of a white picket fence future."
The two women laughed heartily and Jason/becky knew his fate was sealed.
The meeting at the lawyer's office lasted all of twenty minutes. I was
soon spirited away to Ms. Hullaby's condo in the city. Lori was kind
enough to give me a tour. There was a wire cage on the balcony, just
large enough for a big canine, and one in the master bedroom's large,
walk-in closet. There was another bedroom that was converted into an
office, and a third room, one that Lori called a "playroom." There was
also a living room/dining room area and, of course, a kitchen. Much of
the condo, except for the two bathrooms, kitchen, and playroom, was
covered in thick white carpeting.
Lori kindly explained the house rules to me.
"Rule number one: You are never to stand upright while you are in this
house, unless directly following an order, like preparing my meals and
cleaning up.
Rule number two: You are never to wear human clothing while in this
house.
Rule number three: You are never to sit on the furniture.
Rule number four: You are never to speak unless directly ordered to
answer a question.
Rule number five: You are never to eat human food again. From now on,
you will eat generic dog and cat food, or whatever is on sale.
Rule number six: You are to carry out every order with all expediency
unless otherwise directed. Failure to do so will be a severe testicular
beating. You will then be given a second chance. A second failure on
your part will result in an even more serious scrotal punishment. I
don't even want to tell you what a third offense would entail."
After I stripped and got down on all fours, Lori attached a two inch
wide black leather dog collar around my neck and locked it on with a
silver padlock. A small silver tag dangled from it and was engraved
with the following: "MY NAME IS BECKY. IF LOST, PLEASE RETURN TO LISA
HULLABY."
Lori cuffed my hands behind my back and had me shuffle on my knees into
the dog cage on the balcony. We were on the 15th floor of the high-rise
and I had a lovely view of the city at night. However, Lori failed to
put a blanket down on the bottom of the cage; as a result, the wire dug
unmercifully into my knees. It was a cool night, but it would soon get
colder. Lori left me there until morning, when the temperature bottomed
out at 50 degrees.
I was shivering when Lori released me in the morning.
"I trust you had a pleasant night's sleep, my pet. I know I did."
Lori looked lovelier than I'd ever seen her. She looked well-rested,
happy, and glowing. She was absolutely purring to me.
"Now becky, I'd like some breakfast. When you're done, you may open up
a can of Mighty Dog and put it in the dog bowl that I've gotten for
you, the one with your name on it. Then you may join me for breakfast,
at my feet."
Lori unlocked my handcuffs and I painfully stood up and stretched my
aching joints. I prepared coffee, fresh squeezed orange juice, bacon,
two eggs-over-easy, and biscuits for her and opened up a can of dog
food for myself. It looked horrible and smelled even worse.
While the two of us enjoyed breakfast, Lori started to mumble to
herself.
"Damn pits. I don't like pits in my juice. Damn it!"
Lori kicked me in the ribs with her bare foot.
"You'll pay for this, bitch!"
After breakfast, I cleaned up and joined Lori in the playroom. She bent
me over a padded horse and shackled my wrists and ankles.
"I'll be right back, bitch. I have to change and get my workout tape."
Lori returned ten minutes later, put a video cassette into the VCR, and
turned on the 35-inch television. She looked absolutely dazzling in her
aerobics outfit and took my breath away. It was a two-piece, lime green
Lycra ensemble, with cute little yellow cotton socks. On closer
inspection, the socks were embroidered above the ankle in red with
Tweety and Sylvester; only the cat was in the bird cage as the canary
fluttered above it. Lori also wore white Reeboks and a lime green
scrunchie to tie her hair back.
After a good 45 minute workout, Lori finished her bottle of Evian and
approached me.
"Time for your punishment, becky. You do know why I'm going to punish
you, don't you?"
"Yes Mistress," I responded. "Because I inconsiderately allowed pits to
fall into your juice."
"Very good. There's hope for you yet."
Lori removed her Reeboks and her socks. They were moist with
perspiration, so she had to literally peel them off.
"Open wide, bitch."
Lori stuffed both of her damp yellow socks into my mouth and covered my
lips with a strip of metallic duct tape. I tasted her feet and my cock
began to twitch. She groaned mockingly at this sudden development while
she attached a parachute stretcher to my balls.
"Lets see if we can stretch these babies for Ms. Hullaby. She mentioned
something about wanting them at about knee level," Lori said
nonchalantly while she poked at them with her index finger.
I shuddered at the thought and wondered if she was serious.
Lori attached a short link of chain to the ring at the end of the
parachute and threaded it through an O-ring that was screwed into the
floor. I moaned through my gag as she pulled out all the slack and drew
my sac painfully downward.
"I think five kicks should suffice, don't you becky dear?"
She snapped her middle finger and thumb at my trapped balls and I
jumped, pulling them further away from my body. I nodded wildly.
"I thought so...here goes..."
Lori stood back, took aim and THUMP! She landed a direct hit to the
center of my imprisoned sac with the side of her left foot. I lunged
forward and felt like I nearly pulled my balls completely off. On her
second kick, I thought I would pass out and on her third, she made a
glancing blow to the side of my left nut. I started to moan in earnest.
But it was on her fourth kick that I let out a muffled, but blood-
curdling
scream. Lori landed an uppercut with her toes and I saw stars. I
actually thought I did pass out because I suddenly saw Lori's face in
front of me. At first, I thought it was an angel. But I blinked my eyes
and realized that it only looked like one. It was just Lori passing
smelling salts under my nose.
She patiently waited fifteen minutes before delivering the final blow.
Luckily, she missed her target completely, and kicked me in the thigh,
her toenail leaving a deep red scratch.
"That ought to teach you a little more vigilance with my breakfast. If
I catch any more pits tomorrow morning, your poor testes will pay even
worse. Now I'm going to remove your gag and I want you to thank me, my
pet."
Lori ripped off the tape and I winced. She pulled off a considerable
amount of facial hair since I hadn't shaved for a few days. The yellow
socks, moist with Lori's foot sweat and my saliva, was plucked from my
mouth and I sucked in fresh air.
"Th,th,thank you Mistress. You surely didn't deserve pits in your
orange juice. I will be more careful next time."
"You bet your balls, you'll be more careful next time. Their very
existence may depend on it."
It was the beginning of my first full day living with Lori, and it
wasn't even noon yet. I wondered if I would survive.
