The Gold Digger Ch. 02

Carol stood in the middle of one of her company's high rise luxury suites dressed only in a pair of blue plastic shoes, short white socks, a baby blue lace trimmed dress with puffy short sleeves, and peter pan collar. The dress was held on by an unreachable locked in place zipper in the back, and it had a short little hem that only reached her crotch. Worse, her dress, face, arms and legs were sticky with mens sperm, men who until yesterday were her business partners. Worse still, to add insult to injury she was wearing a latched on metal dog collar, and her hands were ratcheted behind her back in some kind of shackle device she knew was much more formidable than handcuffs. Then the ultimate calamity, she was left in this beautiful suite to fend for herself. She was expected to find a way to get out of this horrid little child's dress, clean up, change into her adult clothes and go home.

She sat down on the big chair where just the night before Bob and she had performed intercourse. That event stuck in her craw, since it was her sex with Bob that had started her downward spiral. Now Bob had left her with only a promise he might, only might he said, return later in the evening. She had all day, the whole damned day, to do what? Watch television. Oh sure, she could re-watch the video they'd made of her making a whore of herself with Bob, Hank, and Allen. She could go back to sleep, and wait all day. No she had to do something, try to do something.

Carol got up and walked to the bathroom. She had to turn around backwards to open the door. Inside she found those small bars of soaps, and those tiny little bottles of shampoo usually found in motels. She wondered what if she managed to get all those little bottles open. There were five of them. She could pour the shampoo in the tub, fill it with water, and, if she was lucky, soak away all the goo she was covered with. She knew there was no getting out of the dress, but the dress was small, and in olden times women often bathed while still in their clothes. The shoes and socks could be a problem, but she had little alternative about them. It wouldn't be her first choice, but it was better than sitting around all day feeling filthy. She could even unpackage the little soaps, and let them sit around in the water adding to the cleaning potential of the bath. Then, after a good long soak, she might be able to finagle the knob that converted the bath to a shower. That's what she'd do, get good and soapy, then shower it all off. What the hell, she thought, she could go through the procedure two or three times if she got enough soap from the maids. At least, she thought, it was something to try. It would be better than just sitting and waiting all day. Who knows, she considered, Bob said he cared about her. If she showed a little initiative it might work to her benefit. Men are such stupid fools; it might just yet work to her advantage.

Walking back in the living room she took another look around. There just didn't seem to be anything else she could do. At that moment a maid walked into the suite. She was pushing a cart that was loaded with food.

The maid looked over at Carol and said. "Here is your breakfast." Without one more word, not even a how do you do, the maid left.

Carol saw and smelled the food. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. She decided to eat, then bathe. Over to the cart she went. The food was under a coverlet. With her back to the cart she carefully pulled the soft paper away from the food. Some of the food did become dislodged, but nothing spilled. On the cart was fried and scrambled eggs, toast, strips of bacon, sausage patties, a container of orange juice, a small kettle she presumed was either filled with hot water for tea, or, preferably, coffee, and a small bowl of creamers.

Geez thought Carol. This was going to be a tricky breakfast endeavor. Luckily there was a long mirror behind the sofa. She pulled the cart over to where she would be able to see what she would be doing with her hands while her back was turned. She got the cart near the sofa and turned around to smell what was in the kettle. Goody. It was coffee. With her back to the cart she gingerly lifted the kettle and poured herself a cup. Next came the creamers. It took some time but she got two of the creamers opened and their contents into the cup. Still with her back to the cart. There was no other way, what being shackled and all; she maneuvered the food she wanted as close to the edge of the cart as she could.

She turned around. Now at last it was time to eat. Forks, spoons and knives were out of the question. It would have to be straight to the mouth. She had to get down on her hands and knees to get at the food. Jeez, she thought, I feel really stupid. She started with the bacon. Using her tongue and lips she got the bacon. It was awkward but that was easy enough. The scrambled eggs were a little messy. It turned out that picking up a sausage patty was a no brainer. She just leaned forward and lapped at it with her tongue, as it started to move she gulped at it with her mouth. She knew she as getting grease all over her face and the top of her dress. She could feel the grease from the sausage oozing down into the tight little collar of the dress. She was sure glad no one else was in the room. She knew she probably looked really stupid. Gee, the toast looked so inviting, and she really liked fried eggs. She sniffed around. They were still warm. Getting back up and turning her back to the cart again she got hold of a knife and fork and, backwards, managed to cut up the fried eggs. She wanted butter for her toast. Getting the butter out of the packets was the hardest thing she'd done so far, but she got it. Then down on her knees again, turning back around she nibbled on the eggs, and with her teeth picked up the pieces of toast. The coffee was hard to get. Still kneeling with her hands all locked up behind her back she had to suck then lap it out of the cup. She thought to herself, that's a good doggie. She got about half of it before she gave up. She wished she had a straw.

My she thought. That wasn't so bad. Now let's get a bath.

Carol sauntered back over to the bathroom. With her back to the door she got it open and went inside. She was lucky the light came on automatically. She doubted if she could have reached the light switch. She looked in the mirror. God what a mess. She had eggs, sausage grease and coffee all over her face and the front of her dress. Talk about looking and feeling silly!

Using the bathroom mirror as her guidance system she lined up the bottles of shampoo and easily worked open each one. She got her fingers on two of the soaps and managed to unwrap them as well. She thought she'd get a third soap, but it slipped from her fingers and fell behind the toilet. Seeing where it landed, she knew that little bar of soap was a lost cause. Well, with two soaps, and the bottles of shampoo she reasoned there might be just enough to get her at least partially clean.

She wanted to play it safe. She sat the soaps and the bottles on the rim of the bathtub. Then sitting her ass on the top of the tub she slid around and got in. Nice little swivel job she thought.

She had to kneel on the tub floor and crawl backward to the faucet. She turned the hot, then the cold on. As the water came out she adjusted it. Carol wanted it a little hotter than she normally liked it since she expected to be in the tub a lot longer. Once she got the water flowing, she used her foot to kick the metal stopper in place. Squirming carefully she got turned around facing the flowing water spigot. Then, back up on her knees, twisting and turning, one by one she emptied the shampoo bottles in the water. As each bottle was drained she let it fall into the water, thereby hoping to get as much soap as possible. She reached around and got the two little bars of regular soap and dropped them in the water.

Now she thought this could be great. Carol had the soap and shampoo on the bottom of the tub. She plopped back on her butt, and started swishing from side to side to get it moving. Slowly, as the tub filled, and as she continued to undulate, the water became soapier. What with her hands fastened behind her back, she allowed herself to lean back as far as she could. When that didn't get enough soapy water on her breasts and the front of the dress, she slithered sideways and got more of the good stuff on that way. The shoes were a nuisance, but not as big a problem as she originally feared.

Slowly the tub filled to near the top. Carol got back on her knees and squiggled around to be able to turn off the spigots. This she did with aplomb. Now she went to work trying to get as clean as possible. She wiggled and squiggled. She rocked to and fro. She popped her head in the water and frizzled her face and hair back and forth. She rolled her chest from side to side to get as much soapiness on her boobs as possible. It wasn't a half-bad bath considering she could barely touch herself. For a moment she thought bathing in a nylon outfit wasn't such a bad idea. If she could've touched herself it might've been real fun. The warm water cruising around and between her boobs was stimulating to say the least, and when she opened and squeezed her legs together she felt the hot water go in and out of her vagina. It was close to having sex. If she could've touched herself down there she knew, for sure, she could masturbated herself to an orgasm. In fact, she twisted backwards, and by bending herself over backward she could almost, just not quite, reach her puss. Oh what a sadistic bastard that Bob was. She slapped her legs together and apart a half dozen times to try to get off. Every time she slapped her legs closed the water gushed out of her vagina, and when she opened them real fast the water surged back in. Damn it, she could almost feel it. She was really sensitive down there. It was just out of reach, and just beyond her touch. She was hot. Her labial lips were engorged, but she was helpless. With no relief in sight she tried to think about something else, like how she'd like to cut off Bob's wang.

She didn't know exactly how long she took in the tub, but it was long enough to start to feel uncomfortable owing to the drop in water temperature. Finally she decided it was time to get out. How to do it? Well she decided to simply unstop the metallic stopper while simultaneously flipping the lever that would turn it from running regular spigot to showering water. Once those two things were done she finagled herself back again to the water handles and turned them on, setting them for a nice hot shower. With the shower running nice and hot she carefully managed to get back on her feet. It wasn't easy with the shoes she was wearing, but it was accomplished. Then she stood up and let the water flow all over her. As it flowed she slowly turned round and round, letting it cover every part of her body. Wow she thought, this really feels great, almost, but not quite as good as sex. She took her locked hands and lifted them up and back, thus causing her tiny dress to slide up above her crotch. She tried to lean back to get the water to ripple over her clitoris. It almost worked! If she'd had her hands free she would've been able to pull her vaginal lips apart and get the warm flow to rinse over her clitoris. Hell, if her hands were free she'd be pumping away for she was worth. As it was, it was there, but not quite where it needed to be. She squeezed her legs together as tightly as she could. Maybe that would work? It didn't. Oh she wished she had the use of her hands. If she'd had her hands she'd have gotten off an hour ago, and now, with no hands, she felt the water as it almost, just not quite reached that special warm place where everything was aglow but not quite afire. She knew what she needed. She needed a man, or a good vibrator.

Carol stood there quite a while letting the shower spray her while allowing the water in the tub to drain out. She didn't know how long she was there, but eventually she knew it was time to get out. With her shackled hands behind her, and slippery blue plastic shoes locked on her feet she was still deft enough to get out without mishap. Once out she turned around backward and shut off the water.

Out of the tub but sopping wet Carol made her way back to the living room. Not knowing exactly what to do, and not particularly wanting to create too much havoc she decided to squat on the carpet to dry. She leaned up against the sofa. Allowing herself this one perk, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

Carol awakened with a start. "What? Who?" She said. Someone had interrupted her reverie.

She looked up and saw Bob standing over her. He was glaring at her angrily. Crap. She wondered what she had done wrong.

Bob looked down at her none too pleased. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Carol was just reawakening, and she was in no mood for games. "Just what does it look like I'm doing?"

Bob reached down and not too gently pulled her to her feet. "It looks to me like your trying to ruin some very expensive furniture!"

Carol squiggled up, on her feet, wide-awake, though shackled and collared she didn't give an inch. "What do you expect me to do? Reupholster the damn furniture?"

Bob was furious. He'd left work early mainly because he was afraid she might have gotten caught on something or hurt. Now he saw her lounging against a sofa looking for the world like she belonged there. He said. "I'll show you what you can do. You can get a good spanking!"

Carol simply didn't comprehend the threat. She didn't comprehend his level of anger. "You wouldn't dare! You don't have the balls!"

Bob was over his limit. He yanked Carol by her long brown hair as he dropped back on the sofa. With an ease and grace that would have made a gymnast envious he pulled her down on his lap. "I'll show you balls!" He ungraciously pulled her dress up over her ass.

Too late Carol realized what she'd said and where she was. "Bob! Wait!"

Bob wasn't listening. "You're about to get your first lesson in who does and who doesn't have balls."

Carol knew she was in over her head. She pleaded. "No Bob stop. Let me explain."

The time for explanations was over. The time for a disciplined hand had arrived. The first blow came from his right hand on her left cheek. The impact issued a loud wet smack!

Carol yelped. "Bob! No! Please!"

The second blow fell on her right cheek.

Carol yelped again. It really hurt. Before she could offer another entreaty the third, then fourth, then fifth blows fell. They were hard, mean, and painful.

Carol was crying now. "Bob Oh Bob."

He started pounding on her ass. The more he hit. The harder he hit, the madder he got.

Carol made no pretense at courage or defiance. She was well past that. He was hurting her, really hurting her. She cried. "Bob stop. You're hurting me. Oh please stop."

After he landed perhaps twenty blows, ten on each cheek, he stopped. He could see the result of his assault. Where it had first become pink, then red, it had become a vivid scarlet. It looked good! He liked the look of what he'd done. In fact he could tell, though she was crying, she probably liked it too.

She was till squirming so he growled. "You better stop squirming and fidgeting or I'll give you some more."

Carol stopped moving.

Bob looked at her bright red ass. He took his right hand and pulled her ass cheeks apart. There it was. Wow! There it was! No hair, red cheeks, and a swollen liquid fiery red pussy. This was great. He took his hand and started fiddling with her vagina. She started squirming again. "You better hold still!" he said.

Holding still was the last thing she had on her mind. All day long she'd been as close to orgasm as she could get and still not get it off. Now he was fondling and twittering her ass, clit, and lips. She could feel him getting hard under her. God she wanted to cry out. Give me a break!

Bob realized she was on the verge of something big. He was too. Out of perversity he stopped. Pulling her up with him he got to his feet. He turned her around so she was facing away. "Down on your knees." He growled.

Carol's hands were lashed behind her back. Her rear was aflame, and the damn dress was chaffing her horribly around the waist and around her neck. She kept saying through the tears. "You hurt me. You hurt me, and now you've got me all excited. I want to go home." But she got on her knees.

Bob wasn't about to let her go home. He'd never, ever, done anything like this before, spanking a woman, playing with her crotch like that, not even in his whole life. He discovered he really enjoyed it. He'd thought a lot of this woman. When he and the others had all found out about her perfidy it had infuriated him. Before the discovery he'd been trying, in his awkward shy way to show her he liked her. He still liked her, but he had to show her she couldn't get away with the things she'd been trying to get away with. Prison was out of the question. He'd talked the others into a different arrangement. They'd all agreed not to turn her over to the police on two conditions; one she'd be kicked out of the company for good, and two they would all get one shot at her. Well, she was out of the company and they'd all had their shot, now she was his. It was time to show her she couldn't take advantage of people, people like him, and after he'd sufficiently punished her he would change her. He would remake her into the kind of woman she could be. He'd turn this scheming, little gold digging weasel into a kind caring loving woman, a good obedient little girl.

Bob knew a lot about her. He'd studied her past, hers was a history of clever tricks, sly little plots, and manipulative gimmicks. She didn't know it yet, but all that was over. He wasn't planning on making her a Mother Theresa, but when he was through she'd be a woman, no scratch that, a girl, a man could be proud of.

Bob looked down at her. "Bend forward, and put your head on the rug."

Bob knelt behind her. Her pulled her dress up over her ass. Her ass and pussy were wet. He wondered if they were wet from the bath she'd taken, or perhaps, from the spanking, or more likely from the massage she'd gotten. He said. "Stay exactly where you are. If you make one move, I'll beat you within an inch of your life."

Carol didn't budge.

He sat back on his ass. He gazed in awed delight at what was in front of him, a smart little heart shaped ass all red from a spanking and a bright pink puss all ready for the baker. He took one hand and slowly started to caress her stomach. With his other hand he started to faintly rub the edges of her ass and the periphery of her vagina. With her being shaved it was easy to see the wetness didn't come from a bath. She was hot. He got on his hands and knees. Taking his tongue he started licking the rim of her ass hole. From there he started moving around. He kept slithering his mouth and tongue around between her ass, her labial lips, and her clitoris. He could sense, no feel, that rising woman's warmth all around her crotch. Her pussy was getting pinker, and her lips were starting to swell. He thought. This girl has been around the block a time or two. He didn't care. She was his now, and no one else would have her after today. No one but him!

Bob sat up unzipped and pulled his trousers down. He thought how much he'd like to drill her up the ass, but decided that could wait. After the pain from the spanking the thrill of an orgasm would do her good. He moved up against her and started to press his meat stick in her puss. He moved slowly. From this angle he got to watch all the action. He went in slowly and steadily. She was hot, wet, and tight. He started pushing in and out with slow even strokes.

Carol knelt there on the rug. She'd hated the spanking. It was both painful and degrading. But she'd liked the spanking follow up, and she especially liked what he was doing now. His tongue, she thought, must be at least twelve inches long. God it felt good. She couldn't decide if it only tickled or just plain frazzled her. He seemed to be able to slip it way inside her ass. It was exciting! As he licked she wiggled in closer to get more contact. He seemed to know where to kiss, exactly how to lick, and precisely when to nibble. God she hoped he would never stop. No! That wasn't right! She hoped he'd stop and put himself inside her. She wanted him. She wanted him inside her. She loved the feel and sensation of his mouth, lips, and tongue, but she had to have his penis. Then it was there. She could feel his head at her doorstep. She pushed back further against him. He didn't disappoint her. Wow! She thought. He's good! He knows what he wants to do. She wished her hands weren't shackled. If her hands were free she'd roll around and grab that mop of hair he had. Oh shit! He's going in deep. He's way inside, like all the way in. His penis was big and fat, a real sausage!