The Locket: A Little Shop Story
Part One

Crowell Stapinsky walked into the Little Shop and sighed, looking at all the great stuff. Whips, canes, scourges and Scottish tawses adorned the walls.

Facing him, there were glass cases filled with nipple clamps, chastity devices and to Crow's left, an entire wardrobe of enticing bustiers and leather corsets! Jesus, Ambrosia would look so hot in some of those outfits...

I'm a freak, Crow thought. Any other guy would be happy to have a sexy redhead like Ambrosia, who was great in bed, and loving as all get out, just to be a girlfriend...but I'm a freak!

"I don't want to spank you, Crowell!" Brosi had said just that morning. "What's in your head, dude? I don't want to hurt you...your magazines are sick!"

"Crow, throw this sick book out, and just let me love you, honey!" Ambrosia had tossed his copy of "Punishment Quarterly" in the trash.

And then she hugged him and kissed him, pushing her full breasts against his shoulder...why wasn't he happy with a loving girlfriend?

Why did he have these fantasies of Ambrosia whipping his ass, teasing his cock, and forcing him to kiss her toes? And why couldn't she see the benefits to having a boyfriend who would clean her house and orally satisfy her with no reward?

But Ambrosia was just a normal girl, who wanted a nice normal boyfriend. And if Crow kept pushing her to do this perverted shit, she'd leave him.

He'd have to get over it sometime. But right now, Crow was going to buy his LAST copy of "Punishment Quarterly" and maybe look over these interesting displays...

Behind him, the door opened and a couple came in. It was a weird couple. though. The porky, balding guy had thick mended horn rim glasses and zits, and he had a girl with him who was incredible.

Full breasted with long legs and a platinum blonde mane, she didn't look as if she could exist in the same dimension as her geeky escort. They approached the counter.

Soapy, the burnout manager who Crow sometimes played cards with, leaned on the counter as Fatty Four-eyes approached.

Crow watched, dumfounded as the nerd reached out and pinched the girl's left nipple, hard, and she winced, but didn't let go of him, until he snapped his fingers and she dropped to her knees, still holding onto his left leg possessively.

"Please allow me to stay in your presence, Master Orvard." she said.

"Master Orvard" beamed, and grinned a row of stained teeth at Soapy.

"Hey th-th-there, Thoapy, thith ith Thelethte!" Jesus, thought Crow, he's stammering and spitting all over the place, and he lisps like a sixth grade girl. And the hottie is still draped all over his leg!

"Hey, Celeste, Orvard's told me all about you." Soapy said politely. "He's tutoring you over at Northeastern, right?"

"Master Orvard isn't just my tutor anymore" the girl said demurely. "He's done me the honor of accepting my proposal of marriage. Daddy is going to let Master Orvard manage one of his hedge funds."

As Celeste clung to Orvard, he looked a bit irritated. "Thoapy, c-can I borrow this?" The ugly little man picked up a long thin wooden pointer. "Didn't I tuh-tell you to thtop clinging to me?"

Orvard lifted the pointer, and as Celeste backed up on her knees, he slashed her across the shoulders. Celeste was wearing a little tube top, and the mark was a severe one. She cowered, and Orvard lifted the pointer again.

"P-P-Pull your t-top down. I'm guh-giving you a nipple punishment!" Orvard shouted.

"Please, Master Orvard, don't--" But Celeste's pleas were ignored and, tears rolling down her cheeks, she pulled down her top, exposing tanned, beautiful breasts with large pale lovely areolas and hard nipples.

Crowell realized the nipples were getting harder in anticipation of the punishment!

"Huh-H-Handth behind y-y-your back, b-b-bitch!" Orvard shouted, and the girl obeyed.

Three brutal slashes, right across the nipples, and the girl burst into tears.
As the pointer came down for a fourth smack, Celeste covered her breasts protectively, cowering on her knees.

"Handth b-b-behind your back, now!" Orvard demanded, and Celeste bit her lip, tears streaming down her gorgeous cheeks. She put her hands behind her back, shivering.

"Jutht hold one writht w-w-with the other, like a good girl, and withthtand the pain!" Orvard said helpfully.

"Now arch your back and push out thothe titth!"

Celeste pushed out her breasts almost proudly, though in the harsh flourescent lights of the Little Shop, Crow could see pink and red welts crossing them dramatically.

SLASH! THWACK! SMACK! SNAP! Orvard landed the pointer again and again as Celeste screamed...

But...

As soon as Orvard put the pointer back, she grabbed his leg possessively again.

Orvard shrugged his shoulders, pleased. What could he do with this devoted wench?

The girl looked up at Orvard. "Master, could I have permission to go look at the new horsewhips? I think you'd enjoy using one of them instead of your belt on me, Sire."

Orvard laughed. "That'th fine, Thelethte, but give me your Vitha Card, I have thome buthineth with Thoapy here."

The girl handed him a platinum Visa and actually crawled away from Orvard towards the whip display. Crow wondered if he were hallucinating.

"It w-wath amazing, r-really." Orvard said to Soapy, as he handed the manager a small, heart shaped necklace.

"Jutht luh-like yuh-you thaid...I athked h-h-her to t-t-try the l-l-locket on, and she went from being a rich bitch to begging me to let her thuck me off!"

"Yeah..and it works in reverse, too." Soapy said. Was he looking at Crow?

"And you promithe that the effect won't go away?" Orvard asked eagerly.

Soapy laughed. "Not as long as it's been rented out, but you better pay me anyway, bub."

Orvard handed Soapy the card, and Soapy muttered "One thousand dollars, and ran the card through, handing it back.

Crow gasped. A thousand dollars? That locket isn't worth that much, he thought. Crow's dad was a gemologist, and Crowell knew his necklaces from a mile off.

And Soapy was putting the locket back in the case. My God, it's a rental...a thousand dollars to rent a cheap locket?
While the men were still at the counter, Celeste was going through the single tail tawses at the Whip display. She had pulled her tube top back up after rubbing her breasts ruefully.

But still, as she fingered the various implements, her panties were soaking from the excitement of Orvard's beating. What a wonderful guy he was! She couldn't believe that he had entered her life like this.

A week ago, Celeste Bissonnette wouldn't have dreamed of even having coffee with "Scurvy Orvie" as her cruddy little tutor was called by most students at Northeastern University.

Orvard's brilliance at tutoring students in the troublesome topics of dynamics; temperature, heat transfer, thermodynamics; and all the other bullshit of the course called PHYSICS  318 - Optics Laboratory...

Celeste had had little choice in  hiring the unbathed little creep...lisping, stuttering, just ridiculous company for the former "Miss New Hampshire Teen USA."

And then somehow he'd gotten her to try on the locket...it wasn't a particularly valuable piece of jewelry. Celeste's father had given her tons of money and gems and diamonds, as had her rich boyfriends...

"J-jutht try it on, p-pleathe. I want t-t-to thee how it'll look on my mother for her birthday, okay?"

"Oh c'mon, Orvie...I don't want to put that greasy thing on my neck, what the fuck's wrong with you?"

But she'd humored him, just to get him to stop slobbering on her...

And then they'd gone on to do the work, and of course she'd flubbed a couple of the problems for the coming exam.

Suddenly, she'd turned to Orvard and told him that she had disobeyed his recommendation to study the previous night...

"You know, I need more strictness, Orvard," Celeste had heard herself saying.

"When my Daddy used to listen to my times tables, I kept messing up seven  times eight, in fact all the seven tables, until he'd finally gotten exasperated and pulled my panties down and whipped me with his hairbrush...and it really helped me remember."

Celeste couldn't believe she was saying such a thing, but suddenly the remembered punishment from her ninth year made her thighs quiver, and she looked at Orvard, who, all of a sudden, didn't seem to be stuttering or lisping at all.

Intellectually, she knew he still was, as the saliva was shooting out from his stained braces, but all she heard was his commanding voice.

"Perhaps that's what you need, Celeste...Do you know where your father kept his hairbrush?"

Celeste heard protesting voices in the back of her head NO NO NO no no...but she found herself playing with her blonde hair flirtatiously, and spinning and walking off, twitching her miniskirted butt flirtatiously on the high heels.

The hairbrush was nowhere to be found, but a nice metal pancake spatula seemed to do the job...

Celeste had turned up her miniskirt and pulled her lace-trim panties down to her knees and bent carefully over Orvard's lap.

 The stinging cracks of the spatula had done wonders to her ability to remember formulas...

She'd felt it grow hot in her father's library, and had pulled off her snug V-necked angora sweater, and Orvard had taken to shooting rubber bands at her heaving chest in the demibra when Celeste could not identify the ideal working conditions for a binary vapor cycle.

When Celeste just giggled helplessly after being posed the question, "What is meant by the overall efficiency of a turbine?"...

Orvard punished her by sticking one of Mummy's lighted long dinner candles up her ass!

And she'd expressed her thanks by taking Orvard to bed after the tutoring session was over!

She'd licked every inch of his obese, formerly repulsive little body, and given him a terrific oral worship...and then amazingly, had rimmed his rectum!

"I-I'll sleep on the floor, Master," she'd said to Orvard when it was over.

"Like, have you lost your friggin' mind, Cel?" Sierra and Darien had asked in horror, when they'd seen the two of them together.

Her friends couldn't believe Celeste's new obsession! And it had been worse when Orvard had paddled Celeste's bare buttocks in the Student Union.

"Please not here, Sir." She'd begged, but his adamant look behind the cracked glasses had compelled her to unhook her denim skirt, rip down her thong, and take it from his belt in front of 40 astonished students.

She'd howled as the belt had landed again and again, but when a couple guys came to her rescue, Celeste had nearly clawed their eyes out.

How dare they touch her Master?

Her boyfriend, Troy, a Rugby halfback had been heartbroken to learn that she was taking up with a 4'6" Physics nerd, but her dad had been amazed at Celeste's academic progress, and when the young couple had announced their nuptials, he'd given his blessing.

Then of course, something interesting had happened.

Sierra was protesting wildly one night. "No, I don't want to be your Maid of Honor if you marry this, like, living abortion. How did you get under his, like, spell?"

Orvard had come into the room, ignoring them, as he was about to turn on a rerun of "Deep Space Nine".

Sierra's lip curled. Celeste was quite upset with Sierra, but they'd been best friends forever, and had been co-debutantes last year...

"Well, Orvard gave me this locket." Celeste fingered the plain little necklace.

"I didn't give it to you, it's a rental." Orvard said as he gazed at the screen.

Sierra rolled her eyes, snorting. "It's a cheap piece of shit. I'm surprised it hasn't turned your neck green."

"Well I love wearing it!" Celeste said rebelliously. "It makes me feel sensational."

"Let me see it." Sierra said as she reached around and unsnapped the necklace from Celeste's bosom and put it around her own. Sierra patted her short, curly dark bob and looked at herself in the mirror.

"Eeeh...it's not that cute." Sierra, never a stranger to the mirror, plumped her full lips and put a little Vibrant Lipshine on, as the locket bounced on her full cleavage.

Then she'd turned to Orvard who was still mesmerized by something involving the Gamma Quadrant on his show.

Celeste noticed that Sierra was looking straight at Orvard, for the first time. Then Sierra walked slowly over to Orvard, her breasts jiggling the locket in their striped halter.

"Hey, Orvard, I don't mean to offend you, though. I know it was a nice thing to give Celeste, this necklace thing."

Orvard looked up boredly. "I didn't give it to her, it's a rental from the Little Shop. Why are you wearing it now?"

Suddenly Sierra blushed, looking at her toes. "I-I didn't mean to do anything wrong, sir. I-I just borrowed it to try it on."

Orvard suddenly grinned. "I should slap your face for messing with my property, wench."

Sierra dropped to her knees in front of the recliner where Orvard was sprawling. "Whatever you think is best, Master Orvard."

SMACK! The slap Orvard had given Sierra was ringing, and made her jaw bounce...but she was panting!

"Now give Celeste back her necklace, and then I want a full body massage from you, young lady!"

The evening had progressed astonishingly. At one point, Celeste fell asleep, and when she awoke, she spied...

Sierra, kneeling on her hands while Orvard  lifted her breasts and burned the undersides with a hot poker...and Sierra could take a lot, though she screamed holy hell when he did the same to her underarms!

Celeste decided to resume her nap after Orvard squirted Cool Whip in the toilet bowl and Sierra began licking it out...that was really too much.

That locket was a dangerous thing!

Later, tears streaming down her face, Sierra apologized for her judgmentalness...
Could it have gotten stranger? Apparently, yes. The next day, as Sierra and Celeste were each licking the toes of Orvard's grimy feet, there was a pounding on his apartment door.

"It's open" Orvard said casually, and Troy, Celeste's ex-boyfriend burst in. "You little asshole, I want to know what you're doing dating my--"

Troy stopped in wonder as he noticed  his former girlfriend and her best friend, both buck naked, each with a foot in her mouth. Troy just staggered.

Celeste couldn't blame him...Troy had been dating her for eighteen months, and all he'd gotten to see were her breasts in a bra, and this after countless expensive dinners, gifts, and the like!

And here she was with her hot friend, naked slobbering on this pitiful asshole's toes!

Troy stalked over to Orvard, who was sitting with his fat, greasy stomach out, naked also...quite unattractively.

"Don't you touch him, Troy!" Celeste said protectively, as she stood up. "Orvard's mine, and you are out of my life!"

Sierra took her mouth off Orvard's foot and shouted "He's mine, too. My master...he likes me best!"

Celeste forgot Troy for a moment, in her rage at this affront to possession of Orvard. "Give me back that locket, you bitch! It's mine! He gave it to me!"

Sierra reluctantly took it off, and was handing it to Celeste, when Troy grabbed it.

"This piece of junk? This is what he gave you? I gave you a tennis bracelet last year worth five grand!"

Troy wrapped the locket around his wrist. "I can't believe you fell for this BULLSHIT!"

At this point, Orvard looked at the necklace wrapped around Troy's wrist, and said "Actually it's a rental, give it back please."

Troy looked at the locket, and then looked at Orvard. Celeste was really afraid Troy would break poor Orvard in half--Troy was a bit of a bully at times.

At this point, her cell rang, and Orvard motioned for her to take it in the other room. She looked at Sierra. "Don't let Troy mess with him, Sierra. Please excuse me, Master Orvard."

Celeste had a five minute conversation with her shocked sister (The new engagement was freaking the whole family out) and when she came back...Troy was naked, his butt was welted, and he was sucking Orvard's dick greedily.

Now Sierra and Troy were occupying a large cage in Orvard's apartment, left over from when a neighbor had been crate-training her German Shepherd. It was cramped, but they were happy. Celeste thought she should be jealous, but for some reason...

She just knew in her heart that she didn't own Orvard, he owned HER, and she had to put up with his varied interests.

It just astonished her, how empty her life had been before...shopping, cocaine, sorority bullshit, running 10K's...

Now she was in a wonderful, simple life of service to Master Orvard, and there just was nothing more that she could see being concerned with...it was a simple life, follow the rules, and SERVE.

Celeste's fingers found a beautiful cat o' nine tails made of kangaroo skin. She shivered as she imagined the reaction it would leave on her tender skin, and how thrilling it would be to place it in Master Orvard's hands....

She had no idea how wearing the locket had changed her life, but did it matter?

The Locket Part Two

Crowell pulled into the driveway, and felt for the little glass box holding the locket in his shirt pocket. The whole thing made him nervous, really.

"Just remember" Soapy cautioned, "Don't hold the locket itself outside the box for more than a few seconds, it can fuck with your head, sorta...hand it to your girlfriend, and let her put it on...

"But my girlfriend is--I don't want her to be submissive, like that Celeste chick." protested Crowell..."I want a dominant girl--"

Soapy smiled, and put his hand up. "Don't worry. The locket knows what it's supposed to do...I don't believe in the supernatural, but it's quite an unusual little pendant...

...And make SURE you want her to wear it before you give it to her...everything changes. Bring it back next week, and then you can pay the rental fee."

A thousand dollars seemed really steep, but Soapy assured Crow that he'd be able to come up with the money and pay it, without any trouble.

"The Little Shop has been renting the locket out now for over a hundred years, if you can believe it...I've been here for thirteen years and people always come up with the money and  pay the fee, happily."

So Crowell now had the locket in its glass case. He had noticed that Soapy handled it with tweezers, so he didn't want to do the wrong thing and touch it too much...but he was curious.

And concerned. Ever since he'd met Ambrosia Itkowitz at a wedding the previous year, he'd known she was the one--beautiful, sensuous, loyal, with a sense of humor...he didn't want to lose her by doing the wrong thing...

Idly, Crowell opened the little glass case to the locket and looked at the pewter holder shaped like a heart. Crow gently opened the hinge of the locket, to see a picture...

My God, it couldn't be! But it was! It was a photograph of Crowell's old governess, Miss Piedmont! How did that get in there? Had Miss Piedmont owned this locket?

Crow would have been even more astonished had he known that when Orvard had opened the locket he'd seen a photograph of one of the cheerleaders who used to torment him in high school, Peggy Shelton...

Except in the pic, Peggy was bound and naked, with welts on her buttocks! Celeste's perception of the picture (for they were only perceptions, you can guess by now) had been her Daddy, fierce and stern, holding his elephant's tusk hairbrush!

Crow snapped the locket shut and closed the glass box, remembering...

Crowell's parents had been Foreign Service workers and abroad much of the time, and had left their son's education to the strict Miss Piedmont, a voluptous British nanny who had not believed in sparing the rod.

Miss P. had educated Crow and his five sisters at home, and not allowed him much interaction with the "ragamuffins and street urchins" outside of his family garden.

Their biggest battles had been over Crowell's masturbation, which Miss Piedmont had declared an abomination.

Crowell remembered one of Miss Piedmont's more severe punishments after she'd found his semen-stained copy of "Hustler"...

Miss Piedmont had stripped the seventeen year old  Crowell naked  put make-up and lipstick on him, and dressed him in a garter belt and panties--shocking pink, as well as long stockings and made him parade up and down the living room in front of his giggling sisters.

Cynthia, Karina, Carli, Cherri, and Charlene had found this quite amusing.

Miss Piedmont, glorious in her snug black dress with the plunging neckline had urged poor Crowell to mince across the living room...her walking stick thwacking him on his pantied bottom.

"Take your panties down now, Crowell." Miss Piedmont had ordered...

"N-no please not that." Crowell begged, tears streaming down his cheeks, smearing his mascara and light blue eyeshadow.

It was bad enough to be in full eye shadow, blusher and lipstick and women's undergarments in front of his giggling sisters, who were of course fully clothed...but to pull down his panties?

Cynthia chuckled. "You are such a douchebag sissy, Crowell...and you look like such a moron!"

WHACK! Miss Piedmont's walking stick crashed against Crowell's narrow buttocks.

He teetered on the high heels, and Cherri slapped her miniskirted knee. "C'mon, Crow, show us some skin, boy!" All the sisters giggled.

Karina, who had assisted Miss P in painting Crowell's fingernails a shiny purple, clapped her hands eagerly. This was more fun than watching "The O.C."

"That's right, Crowell." Miss Piedmont said between her teeth as she raised her walking stick for another crack. "Since you insist on bathing in the sea of onanism, why don't you show your sisters how well you do it!"

"P-please, Miss Piedmont!" Crowell had begged. "I'll never touch myself again!" But he felt his cock bulging involuntarily against the soft panties.

"Oh no, Crowell dearest." Miss Piedmont said soothingly. "You can't stop yourself, apparently. You steal money from my purse and sneak over the garden wall to purchase filthy periodicals and abuse yourself...you have no interest in desisting. NOW TAKE DOWN YOUR PANTIES!"

Karina shook her fists over her head and jiggled her huge breasts. "Pull them down, Crow, you little faggot!"

All five sisters began chanting "Pull 'em down, pull 'em down!"

Crow was so horribly humiliated!

Miss Piedmont slashed Crowell's back, and finally, the miserable boy leaned over and pulled his panties down to his knees, his hard cock framed by the garter belt and stockings.

"What...you are erect...excited by this punishment?" Miss Piedmont was horrified.

She tapped the tip of Crowell's penis a little harshly, and he winced, but it stayed quite erect.

"Perhaps we'll invite some of the little thugs in the neighborhood over, the ones who keep forcing their affections on your sisters, to see what a deviate their neighbor is!"

Crowell had grown cold at this--the idea that the leather jacketed creeps playing stickball in the street, the ones who threw beer cans at him when he walked by on his way to his flute lesson...what would they do to him dressed like this?

WHACK! Miss Piedmont's walking stick had landed harshly on Crow's glans, and he finally went limp. The girls giggled even more.

Miss Piedmont had not succeeded in getting young Crowell to stop pounding his pud...but she'd given him a lot to think about.

Twenty years later, Crow shivered in recollection of his old nurse. Now sitting in the car, he opened the locket once more to look at Miss Piedmont....

But the photograph had changed! Now it was a picture of Ambrosia...wearing the same V-necked plunging black dress Miss Piedmont favored...and holding the walking stick.

Crowell shivered, and shut the locket, and shut the glass box. It was time to go inside and get things over with.

The Locket, Part Three

Crowell's mouth ached as he knelt  and received the next cock. God there were so many of them! Although his eyes saw nothing, he could hear Ambrosia on the couch,  laughing and chatting with the waiting men.

He could feel her looking over at him scornfully, her hair tied back in a bun...high full breasts encased in a snug red dress...so beautiful.

And since everything had changed, Ambrosia had forbidden him to touch her breasts anymore! Those wonderful candies were no longer his to play with.

"These babies are for real men" Ambrosia had told him, within sixty minutes of putting the damn locket around her neck.

"You can't touch them ever again...if you're good I might let you see them naked....but I doubt it!"

And of course, poor Crow had been naked almost constantly since his enslavement! At one point, he'd so missed seeing her naked body, as well as feeling totally humiliated and he'd just asked Ambrosia--

"Brosi, can't I just put something on...or can't you undress just a little?"

Ambrosia had lost it. She'd bound Crowell over a hassock, pulled his dick out from behind his legs, and thrashed him mercilessly with some cut thorny branches from the rose bushes outside.

"How dare you, you little worm!" Ambrosia had screamed, as she'd lashed him again and again!

Crow couldn't cry out, because Brosi had jammed a bar of wet Ivory soap in his mouth...but he had bitten down on it and nearly choked to death!

The thorns had ripped his poor cock again and again and then she'd kicked him in  his bound, welted ass with her Capezios.

"You little scumbag, you think I'm going to let you see my beautiful body in the nude...you are DREAMING!"

And just a few days before she'd do anything for him! Wear French maid's uniforms, simulate porn vids...and even once she'd worn a sexy teddy and served Crow and his poker buddies beer and chips!

And now of course Crowell was no longer allowed to play poker, and HE'D been the one who had served Ambrosia and his friends chips while they played poker...and then he'd watched, weeping, as she'd fucked them one by one!

And she was so quick to take offense now...his beautiful Ambrosia!

He'd hoped though, that she'd reconsider about the nudity thing but...

Still, since Crow had given Ambrosia the locket, she'd forbidden him to see her naked--even when he was performing between her lovely legs, he had a blindfold on...

Now, of course he also had a blindfold on, and was doing horrible duty on these young men!

"Hurry up, Crow." Ambrosia called to him, "You gotta pay the locket off." Crowell blushed hotly, as the young man grabbed his ears and jammed his cock down Crowell's throat.

God, it's so horrible, Crow thought as the huge dick nearly split his sensitive, well cut lips apart. The kid was moaning and jamming the dick in and out,and Crow was choking....

And Ambrosia was just laughing and having a good time, while Crow suffered! It's like she doesn't care, he thought

The worst part about this, Crow thought, is having my hands locked behind my back with the damn cuffs-- and being on my knees and blindfolded.

But that's part of the advertisement--"SLAVEBOY GIVES YOU A SLOPPY ONE!"

Crowell recalled "Deep Throat" and how Lynda Lovelace had been able to take it all down by relaxing her throat, and penises just didn't bother her...

Ambrosia had provided helpful initial training by making him swallow cucumbers, and then the huge black plastic dildo she'd purchased at the Little Shop...and oh, how she'd beaten him when he coughed and choked!

"Let's try to find ways to help you remember to take it gracefully" Ambrosia had said...

"For every time you choke, I'll put out a Pall Mall on your penis, how's that?"

He'd sustained quite a few burns down there!

And then she'd had him blow her hairdresser, and worse than that, Ambrosia and her friend Paisley had arranged all the guys in their group, and Crowell had had to ugh--sample them all!

But Crow was still new to cocksucking, and God, it was disgusting. He wasn't even hungry, hadn't eaten since morning, but his stomach was filled with gallons of semen, it seemed!

There were the two things Soapy said that Crow remembered so well: First, that he should seriously consider whether he wanted Ambrosia to wear the locket, and secondly, that people always found a way to pay the locket rental.

The ugly little dude Orvard, had enslaved his girlfriend, and she'd given up her credit card to pay the thousand dollar rental...

But just after Crow had put the locket around his adoring girlfriend's neck, she had become very bitchy...

And somehow she'd gotten Crow to transfer his savings accounts, 401(K), Roth IRA and stock and bond portfolio to her name.

 When he'd mentioned haltingly that he needed a thousand dollars to pay for renting the locket, she'd given him a vicious whipping with the vacuum cleaning cord for being an "Indian Giver" and taking the locket back, and then proposed a way that he could pay the rental himself!

Hence, Crow was giving blowjobs for $50 a pop...Ambrosia had put flyers up with Crow's bathing-suit pic (Crow was a slim, cherubic type) at gay gyms, gay bars, truck stops, and public restrooms...as well as a huge ad in the "Adult Entertainment" section of their local free weekly.

Then, on alternate nights, Ambrosia dressed Crow up in a Marilyn Monroe outfit, complete with breast forms, and shaved his legs, and had him suck off STRAIGHT guys for a hundred dollars a pop!

"She can't screw you, she's having her period" was the excuse Ambrosia gave. They were still about three hundred dollars short of the locket rental fee, but it had been quite a ride.

Now, Crow coughed  on the kid's big dick, and asked him in a strained voice if he could take a break. "Just a minute, sir."

He heard the kid's voice, talking to Ambrosia...

"Hey, this guy's supposed to give me a BJ, I gave you my fifty bucks, and now he says he wants to take a fuckin' break, man."

Crowell shook his head dispiritedly. Apparently some in-the-closet soldier from the local Air Force base had seen the flyer for the "Gay" night, and lots of young military types had come to "give it to the faggot" skull-fucking style.

They were far less pleasant and patient than your traditional appreciative older gay man, who would give Crow time to get himself together, and also give decent tips.

So far, Crow had gotten a couple of bloody noses from intemperate knees when his fellatio skills were lacking...and a few times they'd taken him from behind!

Ambrosia thought that was hilarious!

She had quickly gone from being an adoring girlfriend to the domme of Crowell's dreams...and then beyond, just a bit, what he'd wanted in a dominatrix.

It had been ten days since they'd gotten the locket...and he hadn't cum in ten days!

 Ambrosia had actually taken Crow, naked with a chain attached to his balls, on a leash to a black-tie event with all their friends...

And she'd looked absolutely hot in a little black dress, and everyone else had sneered at poor naked Crowell.

 None of their friends had seemed to mind this bizzarreness, which made Crow wonder if the locket was eminating vibrations.

 At one point during the evening, Ambrosia had borrowed a friend's belt and whipped Crow's penis in front of everyone until he burst into tears!

But he'd been willing to do this, because Ambrosia had teased him with her long nails, tying him down and making him BEG...

And he'd agreed to almost anything with the promise of an orgasm...and indeed after the cocktail party was over, she'd allowed Crowell to beat off in the parking lot in front of all their clapping friends!

He'd thought that was the worst but...

Tonight had been even more terrible. Crow was kneeling, his hands cuffed behind his back, sucking soldier after soldier off...and his jaws felt like lunchmeat...and now this young asshole was complaining about him!

"I'll take care of this, " Ambrosia said, Crowell could hear her  rising from the couch. The blindfold was still tight round his eyes.

"Where's my three tailed tawse?" Ambrosia's voice was quite annoyed. Crow knew it wouldn't be very pleasant now.

WHACK! Right across the side of the head. She hadn't waited til he got up--

But now he was being dragged up by an ear. WHACK! THWACK! CRACK!

The tawse was knocking the mousetraps off his nipples, slashing his cock, and he could hear her moving to the back so she could attack from the rear.

WHACK! CRACK! SLASH!

Just the day before, Crow had skipped out on his lunch hour to talk to Soapy about reversing the power of the locket....it had been too much.

He couldn't go there after work because Ambrosia kept a chart of when he was to be back home...if he took more than twenty minutes to get home, he got it really bad with the tawse!

Soapy had shrugged good naturedly when Crow had begged him for a solution.

"Soapy, the fantasy is just-just so much better than the reality. I am afraid for my life here, man...she beats me black and blue!"

Soapy smiled. "See, that's why I asked you, man. It's a good thing you can't prove the properties of the locket in court, or we'd make you guys sign releases...the power changes. All  I can recommend, is you leave town...she'll dominate someone else."

But Crowell shrank in fear of this, too...because at some level he knew that he needed a domme...and Ambrosia was the one!

He was locked in a chastity belt most of the time, he took horrible whippings, but in a way, he was fulfilled...

Though right now, blindfolded and stumbling around in a room of amused gay men, being thrashed with a tawse, it was hard to remember...

WHACK! SLASH! SLAP!

Soon, Crow was back on his knees, taking the dick the way he was supposed to...DEEEP!

Cassidy couldn't believe it! The chain AND the purse. She'd been following the geeky guy and his bitch girlfriend--

And what a bitch she was--from the time they got out of their car in the business district, til they split up to go to their separate jobs.

"Please-please give me a kiss goodbye, Ambrosia" the guy kept saying to her, and she'd slapped his ass in the face! Goddamn.

Cass had waited til the guy crossed the street, and then she'd snuck up to the Ambrosia bitch, and punched her in the back and snatched her purse, and then, seeing her necklace thingie, had ripped it off the girl's throat, and RAN.

Gasping behind a Dumpster, Cass emptied the red-haired bitch's purse, putting two tens and a five in her stocking, and tossing the rest behind her.

Cass then looked at the little heart-shaped tarnished silver necklace, twirling it in her hand.

Cass had stolen gold choker sets,diamond pendants set in platinum,gold bangle bracelets, tennis bracelets...she knew good stuff!

This puny locket wasn't it...cheap, but who knew?

 She could take it over to Tincher's Pawn-and-Loan, or Rosenauer the fence, but...

 Absently, Cass snapped the locket around her neck and, looking around, decided to sit in Montague Cholnoky Memorial Park...

God, she was lonely. All her friends were in jail, or in some kind of trouble--Danae was in rehab, Leigh Ann had jumped off a building and actually killed Felicia, who was hooking on the corner, Wendy had tossed her leathers to become a Jehovah's Witness, Lisa Hyatt had overdosed, JoAnn had left the city after hitting her stepfather with a Louisville Slugger, Angela and GiGi had shot each other in an argument, and Marian Frances was in a mental ward in five point restraints after having stabbed a traffic cop with an icepick...

Poor Cassie, all alone with her stolen goods in a park!

As Cass found a bench occupied only by an old guy, of her parole officer's generation, ugh, she sat down gingerly.

Cass began going through her own bag, pulling out various wallets that she had snatched during the day, and pulling bills out of them, and then disposing the wallets under the bench.

"What are you doing?" The old guy looked interested. "Whose wallets are those?"

Cass, whose motto was "Do Unto Others and Then Split" looked at the guy, and was about to tell him to go fuck himself, when she suddenly said...

"I stole them. I just got out of jail for bank robbery three months ago, and I'm supporting myself stealing small stuff til my gang gets out."

Cass's brain got really fuzzy after this. She couldn't remember what the old guy said next, but a few minutes later he asked her if she wasn't ashamed of herself, and apparently she said...

"I never got discipline as a kid, I guess that's my problem."

Vines Billiou was amazed and flabbergasted when the gorgeous young pickpocket asked him to punish her.

She was hot--leather jacket, flimsy pink T-shirt covering her generous boobs, and ultra-tight jeans.

Jeez, all he'd done was be concerned...and here she was asking to be punished...and she said it would be worth his while?

They apparently walked back to his place in a dream, it seemed.

"My Uncle Gabe useta spank me when I got in trouble at school," Cass said to Vines when they got to Vines's apartment.

Cass couldn't believe she was saying all this. Usually if she got into someones apartment,she'd be appraising the furniture and electronics, and figuring out how she could file off the security numbers.

"He'd take my pants down and give me the belt. Do you have a belt, Vines?"

Vines had not dated in some time, and the last two girlfriends he'd been naked with had been "Big beatiful women" from the online dating sites.

When Cassie threw her jacket off, and unzipped her black jeans, pulling them down and following this with pulling down her thong panties...then lying down on Vines's bed, he almost had a coronary.

There it was, that beautiful white ass, curvy and plump, with a tuft of hair peeking out! And the panties were rolled around her knees...it was incredible!

The first couple of swats with Vines's belt were light, and Cassie looked back at him contemptously. "My Uncle Gabe really gave it to me...can't you do any better than that? You're like a girl."

Vines got mad now. "Don't give me that lip, Cassidy!" WHACK! THWACK! SWAK! The belt came down again and again across Cass's creamy buttocks and thighs until she bounced and screamed.

"D-did I hurt you?" Vines asked anxiously. But the girl was now taking off the rest of her clothes in a businesslike manner.

"You should probably tie my hands and feet, and gag me" Cassie said, her pink nipples bouncing as she sat up. "I really don't want to cause a lot of noise around...Master."

Vines staggered back, but he rallied, binding Cassie as she'd suggested, and then putting a bandanna in her mouth.

"I'm going to teach you not to be a nasty little thief." Vines said severely, hitting his palm with the strap. But the belt got boring, and Vines tried different things.

He whipped Cassie's butt with his shoe, and then with his old fraternity paddle, an electrical extension cord, a wooden spoon, a yardstick from the basement, and when he got the gag off her, she smirked at him and asked if he had an extension of barbed wire he could use.

"I've been a really bad girl..."

That night, Cassie purred as Vines tenderly rubbed aloe on her scarred buttocks, and then she turned and kissed him tenderly.

Cassie, who had taken Dexedrine to wake up and Seconal to sleep, and shot heroin and cocaine speedballs to get through the day, was now calm and happy, and completely drug and alcohol free...high on her submission to Master Vines.

"You really care about me, don't you, Master Vines?" she asked in a hushed voice. "I've had two ex-husbands, and four pimps, and no one has been as caring as you've been."

He responded by putting his steel Louisville Slugger into the burning fireplace for a time, and then branding her plump buttocks with the swinging end...and she didn't even cry! Just held it in biting her lip til it bled, and enjoying the simmering sensation of burning steel against soft skin...
Cassie licked Vines's body from head to toe,  giving him a long and sloppy blowjob, before taking her place at the foot of his bed.

The next day, Ambrosia was startled on the way to work, meeting the young woman who had snatched her chain. "Ma'am?" Cassidy said...

"Here's your purse and your necklace. I am so sorry I did what I did. I know I deserve punishment. You can call the police or punish me...directly."

Ambrosia smiled slightly. It seemed like everyone wanted her to punish them. The day before, Brosi had taken her middle aged bitchy supervisor, Ms. Elsinore over her desk, ripping down the size 16 panty hose and lashing her fat bare buttocks with a meeting pointer  until the older woman howled.

She'd then closed the desk drawer on Ms. Elsionore's right breast again and again until she'd been given a raise....wow.

Now she looked at the little waif in front of her, wondering... As Cassidy pressed the locket into Brosi's hand, she felt a tingle, and heard herself say...

"You know, I really need a punishment for being stupid enough to let you take that locket. I'm a clumsy, thoughtless wench, Miss...Miss...?"

Cassidy grinned, and reached out, tweaking Brosi's nipple beneath her Kay Unger New York Stretch Scuba Dress...

And then, she began walking, pulling Brosi along by the nipple as she weakly protested. Right before they entered the Holiday Inn, right across the street, Brosi accidentally dropped the locket on the sidewalk...

 

Ambrosia paid for a room with the clerk, as Cass tapped her foot impatiently, and then they entered the elevator to go up. As Brosi called to say she'd be late for work on her cell, Cassidy pulled Ambrosia's hair and slammed her head against the elevator wall, bloodying her nose.

Finally they got into the hotel room. Cassidy took off her shoe and pulled Ambrosia over her knee, flipping up her skirt and pulling down her panties.

"Damn right I'm glad I ripped you off, you clumsy, fat, ho!" Cass screamed as she began thwaping Brosi's soft full buttocks with the heel of her shoe.

THWACK! WHACK! SLAP! SMASH WHACK!

Ambrosia burst into tears and sobbed as the unrelenting pump whacked her rapidly reddening buttocks again and again. Finally Cass kicked her onto the floor, and spat on her contemptuously.

Ambrosia was throbbing from head to foot, but her clit was wet, and as Cassidy ordered her to strip, she did so hurriedly, just waiting for the next punishment.

Cass then kicked Brosi in her bare breasts. "Those are nice tits, bitch." Cassidy said with clenched teeth. "I always wanted tits like those."

Cassidy took a bathrobe tie and circled it around Ambrosia's 36DD breasts and squeezed them, tying the end to the bathroom door. She then cut a lamp wire in half, re-plugging in the end to the wall so sparks jolted out of the end and put the end to Ambrosia's fair buttocks, and as Brosi pulled away, the bathrobe tie tied tighter around her purplish boobs.

"I tie it tight, don't I bitch?" Cass said with clenched teeth."I was kicked out of the Girl Scouts for snorting crystal meth  at the campfire, but I learned to tie a knot, get it?"

The sparks zapped at Ambrosia's ass, and she kept trying to pull away from the door, but of course the bathrobe tie was squeezing the blood practically out of her breasts...Somehow this reminded Brosi of when she used to be beaten up by the Bonifant sisters, Arnice and Inez, in her mid teens.

The Bonifants also had been jealous of how Ambrosia was much better developed than they...and of her long, curly red locks, and of course, her family's money.

 

One time they'd whipped her boobs with razor wire, tying her up in their dad's garage...and then they'd cut her hair off! Finally, at the end of the day, Arnice and Inez had sent her home weeping, wearing only panties...but she'd never told on them...Ambrosia really had a slave mentality!

 

"I have something to tell you Mistress Cassie" Ambrosia said hesitantly...

 

Soon, there were extensive screams from the window, and then Ambrosia's long red locks fell out of the window...

Below, in front of the Inn, a toothless bag lady picked up the curious little locket sitting on the sidewalk, and looked at it...appraising its value. She put it around her neck and began walking up the street, and despite her stained coverall, stolen from the warehouse of the Department of Sanitation, several men turned to watch her walk...

Just fascinated...