Carla drummed her fingernails on the desk beside her phone as she wrestled with her conscience. Alice’s message had been clear. The weekend was looming on the horizon, and she and Gerald wanted Carla to come out and play.
But Carla‘s memory of Doris’ spanking was still so fresh and vivid. Just thinking of it, she could feel herself beginning to swell, and she needed to open and close her legs as she sat at the table. She’d been like that all week. She thought how the heat from the spanking had gone to her very core. She thought about how beautiful, yet powerful Doris looked in the corset and pencil skirt. She couldn’t stop thinking about how Doris’ heels clicked as she walked around on the hardwood floor. And she remembered how she felt all funny inside when Doris had touched her arm. She thought about how the corners of Doris’ eyes crinkled when she smiled.
Thinking of all those things, it seemed to her that playing with Alice and Gerald was somehow cheating, even though neither she nor Doris had said anything that might lead to a commitment. It was just one encounter, she thought. So why do I feel guilty, she asked herself. Am I reading more into it than is really there? Does she feel the same way about me? Am I even worth her feeling that way toward me? She is so beautiful, and so self-assured. She could have any woman she wanted. I’m probably just another notch on her garter belt. Why does it feel like cheating?
So there she sat, almost on the verge of tears, torn between her long lasting friendship with Alice and Gerald, and her new-found – her new-found what? It wasn’t love exactly, she didn’t think. But it wasn’t just friendship either. It was more, she thought, as if she HAD to do whatever Doris wanted her to. And she felt a compelling urge to please; she wanted Doris to be happy with whatever she did. She couldn’t believe Doris would want her to play with Alice and Gerald unless she was there, too.
Her mind wandered to the years spent with Alice and Gerald. She thought about all the things she had shared with Alice and Gerald; the times they had laughed together, and the times they had cried. She thought about when Alice had lost the baby and been told she could not carry to term, even if she did conceive again. She thought about all the Christmas presents they had traded, and about the Thanksgiving dinners they had shared. She remembered back to that first time she had taken the cheesecake over to Alice and they had played together in the basement. That was the first time Carla had experienced electric play, and it was the first time she had realized her truly subservient side. She supposed she loved Alice and Gerald, but she had never said so. And she knew that ultimately, she could never be a total part of their lives, the way they were for each other.
She wondered if she would ever find someone whom she could care for that way. Then she thought how nice it would be to be able to please Doris every day. The thought crossed her mind that if she didn’t please, she’d have to be punished, and she smiled slightly. She thought about the punishment that would ensue if Doris found out she had been cheating on her with Alice and Gerald, and a sudden fear struck her.
She knew then, that she could not do that. The only way she could continue her relationship with Alice and Gerald was if Doris allowed her – no, if Doris encouraged her. No, that wasn’t strictly true, either. Doris didn’t have to APPROVE, exactly, but it would never do to have Doris disapprove.
The more she thought about it, the more decided she became. Finally, she reached for the phone.
“Hi, this is Doris, your friendly realtor ...”
Carla’s mind went on hold, while Doris’ answering machine went through its spiel. While she was thinking, she decided she didn’t care who was in the office, or who knew; she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.
“Please leave a message, following the beep. ….BEEP…”
“Mistress Doris, please excuse my begging, but please, PLEASE pick up the phone if you’re there. I so need to talk …”
“Stop begging, Slut,” Doris commanded. “How DARE you say those things over my office phone? You have no idea who might be here and listening.”
“Please, Mistress, I know you will have to punish me, but I have to talk to you. Alice and Gerald want me to come over this weekend to play, and I feel like I’d be cheating on you. Will you please come with me, and…”
Carla suddenly stopped talking, realizing what she’d just said. She held her breath. All she could hear was her own heartbeat, as she held the receiver to her ear. After what seemed like an eternity, she asked, “Are you still there?”
“I’m thinking,” was the reply. But it was softer than Doris’ usual commanding tone, and Carla could tell she had struck a nerve. After another long pause, she went on.
“You know I dislike them, but if that’s what you want, I’ll give it a try. But if anything – anything at all – seems strained with Alice and Gerald, you and I are finished. I am out of your life forever. It is up to you to make this work, if that’s what you want.”
“Thank you, Mistress. It means a lot to me. I think that once you get to know them, and they you, you’ll like them. But in any case, I’ll make this up to you somehow, I promise.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will. You’re such a slut. I just have to decide how. And one more thing: it can’t be Saturday. Saturday, I am taking you to see the house you are going to buy.”
“The house I’m going to … oh, wait a minute, now. I’m not prepared to …”
“I know you. I know exactly what you want. And I know you will buy this place, because it is exactly right. And you will buy it because I said so. I control you; I control your wants, and I control your desires. I control your pain, and I control your pleasure. And that’s the way you want it to be. You want me in charge; you NEED me in charge. And I’m just the person who knows how to take charge of you. What are you wearing?”
“A tank top and a pair of boy shorts, Mistress.”
“Take them off. Do it NOW!”
Carla set the phone down, and reaching around with both hands, peeled the crème-colored tank top over her head. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband, she raised her hips off the chair, and slid the black boy short panties to her ankles and stepped out of them. She noted as she did, her hands shook slightly. How does she DO that, she asked herself as she picked up the phone again. She glanced over her shoulder and was taken aback to see she had left the curtains open; anyone passing by on the sidewalk could see her nudity. It was at once both exhilarating and scary.
“The curtains are open. May I please go close them?” she asked into the phone.
“No just sit there and listen to me.”
Carla sat silently, breathing shallowly into the phone.
“Good girl,” Doris said. “Now, you will play with yourself, but you are not to come. I control your pleasures and especially, I control your orgasms. When we get off the phone, you will not close the curtains. You will go into the kitchen, and you will set the timer for fifteen minutes. From the time you set it, until it goes off, you will stand in the kitchen, and you will rub circles on your clit with your right hand while you pinch your nipples with your left. You will alternate between the right and left breast, pinching them hard enough to hurt. But remember – no orgasms.
Tomorrow is Saturday. I will be at your house at ten AM. You will have coffee ready, and you will be dressed in a pair of flats, a skirt, and a tank top. You will not be wearing a bra, and you will not be wearing panties. I am going to ask you if you have had an orgasm, and you will answer me honestly. I will know if you are lying, and trust me, you do NOT want me to catch you in a lie. You do not want the consequences of having disobeyed me by orgasming, but you especially do not want to face the consequences of lying about it.
After the timer goes off, you will call the McQuires , and set it up for both of us to go there Sunday. I am going to hang up now. You have your directions.”
Carla was stunned. She sat at the table, the receiver to her head. How long she sat there, she didn’t know, but she was brought out of her stupor by the insistent beep-beep-beep in her ear. She hung up the phone, and went into the kitchen. She picked up the timer and set it for fifteen minutes.
Standing legs akimbo, she gently began rubbing circles on her clitoris. With her left hand, she grasped her left nipple between her thumb and bent forefinger. Rubbing a little more insistently, she gave her nipple a sudden squeeze. A slight moan escaped her as the sudden pain shot down across her abdomen. She could feel her outer lips engorging, and her clitoris hardening under the insistent motion.
She looked over at the timer. As near as she could tell, the knob hadn’t moved at all. But she could hear the insistent ticking of its inner mechanism. The tic-tic-tic became a background rhythm to the circles she made on her clitoris, and it began throbbing in time. Her breath was coming in short gasps as she pinched her right nipple, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her crotch. Tic-tic-tic. The timer continued inexorably on.
She began easing her hips back and forth, the upward motion naturally allowing her finger to slide downward to the edge of her folds, and back up onto her clitoris. Her breathing was becoming more ragged, and she could feel the pressure , starting from deep within. Tic-tic-tic. She could feel the blood coursing through her clitoris it felt so hard.
She glanced over at the timer again, and saw that five minutes had passed. The thought that she was not to orgasm served to lower her passion slightly, and she rubbed herself more gently.
Switching her hand back to her left nipple, she gave it a sudden squeeze, and bent forward as the sudden touch shot directly to her clitoris. Tic-tic-tic. Her nipple pulsed in synchronization with the ticking timer.
The electric shoots were starting down her legs, and she could feel her inner thighs begin to quiver. She rubbed herself faster and moaned as she climbed to a higher plateau. Tic-tic-tic. The timer ticked on.
Rubbing herself furiously, and thrusting her hips upward as far as she could, she threw her head back and sighed loudly as the first spasm overtook her. She doubled over then, her breasts dangling freely. She could feel her aureoles crinkling around her rock-hard nipples and her breasts shaking as the clenching in her abdomen seemed to go on forever.
Tic-tic Br-r-i-ing! The timer went off.
Oh my God! She thought. Doris is going to be upset with me. Whatever shall I do? Shit. Well – she’s right: I can’t lie to her. Carla suddenly realized she didn’t want to lie to her. Not then, and not ever.
Suddenly, she began weeping. Her legs buckled and she sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor. She wished Doris could be there right then, to comfort her, and to admonish her for having an orgasm. The thought suddenly struck her, as she sniffled to herself, that Doris knew she was not going to be able to rub herself for that long without coming. She had been set up to fail. Doris knew she would, and knew she would feel guilty.
And then it suddenly struck her: Doris had WANTED her to cum! Doris had wanted her to realize how little control she had, and she had wanted her to realize much she wanted to obey. She started laughing through the tears, and hugged herself. She WAS loved! And it was Doris who loved her. She could feel it deep inside, and knew it with all her heart and soul.
She stood and padded into the living room, to retrieve her panties and tank top. She glanced at the window as she passed by. There was a woman walking by on the sidewalk, but she didn’t look in. I don’t care if she does, Carla thought. Doris loves me just the way I am. She started singing to herself. It was a song recorded a number of years ago by Martina McBride.
“Don’t see no reason to change my plan;
My baby loves me just the way that I am.”
She was still humming to herself as Alice picked up the phone.
“My,” Alice exclaimed. “Aren’t we the chipper one?”
Carla took a big breath, and said, “Alice, you know you’re my best friend, and I have to ask a big favor.”
“Remember I said I was gonna call Doris and use her to find a house and sell this place?”
“Yes, and set her up to be totally embarrassed. Do you have a plan?”
“I do, but it isn’t what you are expecting. She came over last Saturday and…”
“And you didn’t tell me? Why you little sneak!” Alice interrupted.
“I – I think I am in love with her,” Carla blurted out.
“WHAT?? Are you out of your mind? That woman is a total bitch on wheels. She would have taken us for fifty thousand dollars if we hadn’t been smarter than she, and she would have ripped off mom and dad Nesbitt, too, if she could have. I think you’ve taken complete leave of your senses …”
“Hear me out,” Carla went on. “She was going through a very rough time.”
Carla related to her what Doris had said about her husband dying, and how the attorneys and insurance people had fought her, and nearly forced her to declare bankruptcy. “So she was just doing what anyone would do, to survive. She really has a good heart. And I think she loves me, too,” Carla finished. She could feel her mouth curling into a grin as she said the last.
“Well, I can hear you smiling,” Alice replied, “So you must really believe it.”
“I do. And that’s why I want to ask a big favor. I want to come over to play this weekend, but I want to bring her too. I want you and Gerald to try to keep an open mind, and give her a chance. I think once you get to know her as I do, you’ll find you like her, too.”
“Know her as you do? That wouldn’t by any chance be in the Biblical sense, now, would it?”
Carla giggled. “Well – since you put it that way, I’m not sure. I can’t remember if there is anything in the Bible that tells about what we did, unless it’s in the stories about Sodom and Gomorrah.”
“Carla, you brazen hussy!” Alice laughed. “Well, let me talk to Gerald when he gets home from work tonight, and we’ll see what transpires.”
“Oh, and another thing. I can’t come on Saturday, ‘cause Doris has this house that she is just certain I will want to put a contract on. She wants to show it to me on Saturday, and IF she’s right, I will have to race around getting all the paperwork done. So, if it’s okay with Gerald, and you too, of course,” she added hurriedly, “I’d like to bring her over with me on Sunday.”
“Carla, Honey, you really ARE a slut. Now you’re proposing we engage in sodomy on Sunday,” Alice laughed.
Carla laughed too. “All right, enough with the bad jokes already. Give me a call back after you talk to Gerald. I gotta run. Maurice is making food noises.”
She hung up the phone, and went into the kitchen to put out a plate of food for the cat.
The following morning, Carla arose, fed Maurice and retrieved the morning paper from the hallway outside her condominium.
Remembering that Doris was going to come over, she hopped into the shower. After she dried herself, she was standing at her closet, debating what to wear, and looking at blouses and skirts. What was it Doris had told her? She couldn’t for the life of her remember, except that she was to wear a skirt and no panties. Then the thought crossed her mind that maybe she should start with which bra, then decide what blouse to put on over it. She cocked her head to first one side, then the other as she slid the blouses across the hanger bar. Just as she was about to push them all back to the left and start over, she spotted what she thought would be just the thing. It was a long sleeved ecru blouse, in crepe chiffon, that she had bought for when she had to appear in court. It was slightly sheer, and she thought it would look very fetching over a yellow lacy demi-cup bra. The ecru top screamed for a black straight skirt, and, of course black hose. Taking the skirt and blouse from their hangers, she tossed them over her left arm, and selected a pair of black thigh-high stockings, and her bra from the dresser drawer.
She carted her armload of clothing into the bedroom, and tossed them onto the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, drawing on the stockings, she was very aware that she was wearing no panties, and could feel herself beginning to engorge slightly, just from the feel of the sheets against her bare bottom. It felt very naughty, and a little erotic when she stood up, and could feel her inner thighs rubbing together over the tops of the stockings.
The thought suddenly popped into her mind that she wanted to please. She sat down again, holding her bra in front of her in both hands. Why, she wondered. Why do I feel so, so , oh Hell, I don’t know – I love her. How can that be? How can I say that? I do, though, and I hope she loves me, too. She gets me all bollixed up, but I want to be with her. I want to see her. I want her around all the time. She sat there, thinking, for a long time.
Finally, she put on the bra, blouse and skirt, and stood, inspecting herself in the full-length dressing mirror on the back of her bedroom door.
It should be pointed out that Carla was no scrawny size zero model type. Her figure was more apple, or possibly pear-like, and she was not tall. When she stood in her bare feet, she could just barely reach the top shelves of the cupboards in her kitchen. Her breasts, while ample, were not like some porn-star melons, bursting out of their coverings. In short, she was of average build, though, as she herself would admit, with good calves and ankles. Ever since her thirtieth birthday, when she got the little girl’s hair cut off, she had worn her dark hair in a cheek-length pageboy. She felt that was more becoming a woman her age; she didn’t want to look as if she was trying to relive her youth, or had gotten “stuck” in the hippie sixties.
Satisfied that she looked both demure enough to go out house-hunting, yet dressy enough to show Doris she really wanted to look nice for her, she padded into the dressing room and selected a pair of black Maryjane flats.
She was just slipping her shoes on when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the bedside clock, and saw that it was ten already. Where has the time flown, she wondered to herself. I was going to have coffee ready before she got here! And, OH, SHIT! She had said a tank top, and no bra! Well – it’s too late to change tops.
Suddenly, Carla was all a-twitter.
“Coming,” she yelled, as she slid the closet door closed. It caught on an errant shoe, and she gave it an extra hard shove, pulling it off the rollers. It made a loud crashing sound as it fell outward, grazing Carla’s knee, and putting a huge hole in her stocking. “DAMN!” she said loudly, just as the doorbell rang again, insistently. Flustered now, she ran her left hand through her hair, and was astonished to feel it catch on a broken fingernail. “Oh, FUCK!” she exclaimed, and began crying.
The doorbell rang again.
Carla limped across the living room and opened the door.
Doris strode into the room purposefully, saying, “I was beginning to think …” and stopped herself, as she looked Carla up and down.
What she saw before her was not a pretty sight. Carla’s hair was a tangled mess. There was a big glob of red paint in it, right at the crown. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her mascara was making black tracks down her cheeks and onto her neck. She had one shoe off, and there was a big hole and scrape mark on her knee, that was oozing blood. The fingernail on her left forefinger was torn off.
Doris quickly dropped her handbag on the floor, and crossed over to Carla. Taking her in her arms, she said, “Oh,Carla! I am so sorry.”
Carla crumpled into her, sobbing and blubbering. “I so wanted to look nice for you I did my nails last night and picked out a pretty blouse and the door fell off and ruined everything and my knee hurts and I’m a mess and I’m sorry and …”
“Sh-h-h-h. There, there. It will be all right,” Doris said, soothingly.
“Meow,” said Maurice, arching his back and rubbing up against Doris’ leg.
“See?” she said, cheerfully, “even Maurice says it will be all right.”
Carla smiled through her tears then, but clung even more tightly to Doris. Looking downward, and over her arm, she said, softly, “I just wanted to look nice for you. I wanted everything to be perfect.”
“You do look nice,” Doris said. “Even when you’re a mess, you still look nice to me. Now. Let’s get your knee looked after. Go over and sit on the couch and take off your hose, while I rummage through the medicine cabinet in your bathroom. You must have band aids and Neosporin.” As she was talking, Doris had stridden into the bathroom, and opened the cabinet. “Do you want an aspirin for the pain?” she called out.
“No thank you,” Carla replied.
Doris reappeared, carrying a damp washcloth in one hand, and a box of band aids and a tube of Neosporin ointment in the other. “Here we go, Sweetie,” she said, setting the first aid things on the couch next to Carla. She sat down on the floor in front of Carla, and took her calf in her hand. “Does it hurt to straighten it?” she asked, as she gently lifted Carla’s leg out straight.
“Yes. No. I don’t think so. It just hurts, either way,” Carla said.
“Well, you gave it a good whack. You’re going to have a nasty bruise, I’m thinking.”
“You sound like my mom, the first time I fell off my bicycle when I was a little girl,” Carla replied, smiling.
“See? You’re smiling. I told you it was going to be all right.”
Maurice jumped up onto the couch, and Doris reached out her free hand and stroked him. “Mommie’s gonna be okay,” she said to him.
“Yes. I see you, Sweetie. Now let me finish playing Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy here.” She squirted a generous dollop of ointment on Carla’s knee as she spoke, and deftly, but gently smeared it across the scrape with the edge of her pinky.
After she finished patching up Carla’s knee, she stood, and went back into the bathroom with the washcloth and first aid supplies. “Come here,” she called over her shoulder. “Let’s get your face cleaned up and your hair brushed out.”
Carla stood, and dutifully went after her into the bathroom. She saw herself in the bathroom mirror, and burst out laughing. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed. “I do look a sight. Too bad it isn’t Halloween. I could scare the bejesus out of the kids.”
“Well, you did a good enough job of scaring me, when I first saw you at the door,” Doris replied. “What happened, anyway?” She sat down on the closed toilet lid.
While she washed her face, and brushed her hair, Carla told her all about how she had been trying to follow instructions, and couldn’t decide on a blouse, and then how she had broken the door, and her fingernail, trying to catch it.
Doris wisely decided not to remind Carla that she was supposed to have worn a tank top and no bra.
While they were talking, Maurice decided to go exploring. He walked stiffly all around Doris’ bag in the middle of the living room floor. Then, he approached it, and crouching with just one front leg bent, he sniffed tentatively at the opening. Concluding it was probably safe, he stuck his right paw inside, and pulled out a package. It was a small box, about four inches square, tied with a piece of wool thread. Snagging the bow with his claws, Maurice began tugging at it.. He rolled over onto his back, and continued tugging at the knot with his front paws, while pushing on the box with both hind legs. In a short time, he had it opened, and the lid went skittering across the floor.
Carla emerged from the bathroom, just in time to see Maurice dart behind the sofa, dragging a piece of green wool thread. “Maurice!” she shouted, “What have you …” she stopped suddenly, and stood. The back of her right hand flew up over her open mouth. She stood stock still, staring at the opened box in the middle of her living room floor. Inside, lay a silver choker collar, with something engraved across the front of it.
Doris came up behind her, and putting her arms around Carla’s waist, said into the back of her neck, “This wasn’t exactly how I had envisioned this moment, but it’s for you, if you’ll have me.”
Carla stood there, and wrapped her arms around her waist, over top of Doris’. “It’s beautiful.”
She felt the tears beginning to well up again, and raised one hand to brush her cheek. “And yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes.”
She whirled around. Standing on tiptoe and placing both hands either side of Doris’ face, she began kissing her furiously.
Laughing, and pulling away slightly, Doirs asked, “Don’t you even want to see what it says first?”
“I don’t care. I love you. “
“I love you, too, Carla. I really do. I have never felt this way about anyone ever before. I knew it, the first time I saw you and knew that I could have you. I knew it when you let me spank you. That’s when I decided to but the collar and have it engraved. I went to the store first thing Monday morning, and had it done. I thought if you didn’t want it, I’d just put it away and keep it. But when you called yesterday, I knew it was right. And now I have to ask – did you have an orgasm?”
“Yes, dear Mistress. I did, and I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
“I’m glad you did. I wanted you to, and I am not going to punish you for it. Instead, I am going to ask properly.” Doris went down on one knee. “Carla,” she asked, “Will you wear my collar? Will you accept me as your loving Mistress, and will you please allow me to be with you, and to have you, and protect you, and love you, and punish you?”
“Oh, God, yes! Please, Mistress Doris, put your collar on me. I will wear it with love always in my heart, and I will always be proud to be yours.”
Doris lifted the collar from its box then, and holding it up to Carla, said, “See? It has your name on the front, where everyone can read it. But see what is on the inside? ‘Doris’ love slut.’ That’s just for us to know about. And I promise these things to you: I will never lie to you. I will try never ask you to do anything beyond your ability, but if I do, I will always honor your safe word. I will always apologize, quickly and without reservation, if I accidentally do or say anything to hurt you – well, beyond the hurt you want, that is. And one more thing: I will always keep you closest in my heart.”
“I will never lie to you, either, Doris. I will always try to do whatever you ask of me, even if it stretches my limits. I promise too, I will always use my safe word, rather than do something for you that will make me feel resentful. And one more thing: I. too, will always keep you closest in my heart.”
Doris stood then, and placing the collar around Carla’s neck, attached the clasp at the back. She bent forward and kissed the back of Carla’s neck, just above the collar, at the edge of her hairline.
“Now then,” she said, “about that house …”
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/lesbian/carla-buys-a-house-chapter-two.aspx">Carla Buys A House Chapter Two</a>