What I Did With Denise	Back to O	Back to main page

Collected by Djian
Updated mai 22 - 2010

M/f, D/s, cons, subbie

1

What I Did With Denise
Chapter 1
by brian_r_98


I wasn’t certain what I was going to do with her when I went to see her in the hospital. I mean, I had some ideas, some delightfully wicked thoughts that I was pretty sure I could put into action. A lot depended on just how busy the floor was, where the nurses’ station was. You know, what I could get away with…

What I did know was that she’d asked for me to come see her – word passed through friends, not her parents. I also knew that whatever I decided, after her release from the hospital things between us would happen on my timeline, by my agenda. What I also knew was that she had no idea what she was about to give up.
Let me tell you how this all started.

We’d dated for a while, but it hadn’t gone particularly well from my perspective. From hers, I was a great catch – already a manager at the factory where we both worked, had my own place, drove a nice car. She was only a receptionist, but she was cute, with a nice butt and those little tits I seemed to favor.

The problems began the first time we started to make out. She was hot enough, initially, and I thought I’d have her in bed after only the second date. She liked it when I massaged her large nipples through her top and bra. She humped herself into my hand as I massaged her pussy through her slacks, and even let me slip my hand inside and tweak her clit and pussy over her panties. But she clamped down like a bear trap when I tried to push the panties aside and get my finger really wet. And she twisted away and pushed at my hand when I tried to undo her slacks. She even slapped my hand when I tried to slip it into her blouse.

That was on a Saturday night. She decided I was pushing too fast and left. I half expected I’d never hear from her again, and that she would cold-shoulder me at work. So, I was surprised when my phone rang late Sunday afternoon and it was her. She wanted to come over and talk, about Saturday’s date, she said. I agreed and asked her to pick up something to eat on the way over. Hey, why not get a free meal out of it. If she was coming to me, she must be more than willing to compromise. So I let her.

She arrived with my favorite burger meal in a sack, and we chattered nothings about work and coworkers while we finished eating. I decided to get the ball rolling.

“So, Denise, what made you call me? What is it you want to talk about?”

Her eyes dropped and she stopped chewing. After a moment or two she looked up again and swallowed.

“I was thinking I left in a hurry last night. I’d like to explain myself.” A long pause followed, as if she were deciding just how much she would tell me.

“I’m not really a virgin…”

I chuckled. “I’m not worried about that. Your past…”

“No. You don’t understand. I kind of lost my virginity under…well, under less than…less than pleasant circumstances.”

Oh. This was different than I’d expected. I paused for thought. “Were you raped?”

“Not exactly…”

“‘Not exactly’? What does that mean?”

“Well, it was a guy I dated right after high school. We did some stuff together, you know, like you and I were last night… But that was all we did.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“No, wait. There’s more. Several times he tried to get me to use my mouth, um, you know…to please him…”

“Um, ok. So did you?”

“No, I thought it was gross and I told him so. He asked a few more times over the weeks that we dated, but my answer was always the same. And I was tired of his asking. The last night I saw him we were both drinking when he asked again.”

“So, what happened?

“I told him no, again. He didn’t like it and accused me of teasing him. He was very angry. I got scared and tried to leave, but he grabbed me and pulled me back down onto the couch.”

“You don’t need to explain…”

“But I do, I feel I do…well, he pushed his hand up my skirt and ripped my underwear. I was pushing him away, or trying to. The next thing I knew…”

“Denise, you don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do. The next thing I knew I felt his fingers on my…you know…”

“Yes, ok.”

“And then his fingers moved and he pushed his hips, and I felt his…his…”

“I know. Go on.”

“And I think he put it in me.”

“You think…? You’re not sure?”

“Um, no.”

“Didn’t you feel yourself being penetrated?”

“I’m not sure. I felt pain. He moved a lot and then he squirted…”

“So now you’re “kind of” not a virgin.”

“Right.”

I sighed. What a ditz. Nice ass, great tiny-tits, but a blonde in dark hair… Maybe some shock therapy would help.

“Denise, either he fucked you or he didn’t. Either he pushed his cock up your pussy or he didn’t. Maybe he poked around a little, bumped your clit, pushed against your hole… But if he didn’t FUCK you, you’re still a virgin… So, which is it?”

Shock therapy did work. Well, sort of. Maybe too well. She was still sitting there, mouth moving like a fish, face getting redder and redder.

“Aaaah, ummmm… I…he…ummm…” A pause. “I guess I still am a virgin… I really don’t think that...well, um, he didn’t, um, get his, um, you know…into me.”

If I thought she was red-faced after my rude comments, I was wrong. As she spoke she managed to push the definition of “red” to a whole new level. Hell, I thought she might burst a blood vessel.

Now I needed to think. “I’m going to the bathroom, be right back.” And I got up and left. Didn’t really need to pee very much, I just needed the time. As I stood there with dick in hand, I came to a conclusion, a revelation even. Denise was out there waiting for someone to take her by the hand, figuratively, and lead her to new heights of pleasure. OK, I thought, I’ll give it a try.

When I returned to the living room Denise looked up at me with this, this…look. She needed me; she WANTED me to give her direction. I sat down in the chair opposite her and sat back.

“Denise, I think I understand your situation and why you’re here. You need someone to direct you, to guide you through a physical relationship. Someone who will be patient and yet insistent, someone who will push you to do things you might not otherwise agree to, but not attack you or rape you.” I paused. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Denise looked at me like I’d read her diary. The blood drained from her face, and she nodded slowly, as if she was afraid her head would topple off unless she was careful.

“Stand up,” I said. She slowly rose from her seat on the couch, hands wiping nervously at her thighs.

“Remove your shirt and bra and drop them on the coffee table.” She hesitated. I looked at her sharply and raised my voice. “Do it NOW.”

I could see her hand trembling as it reached for the lower hem of her T-shirt. She crossed her arms in front of herself and pulled the shirt slowly up and over her head. It tangled briefly on her glasses but she shook herself free. When her face was revealed again it was like a mask. Fear was in there, but so was excitement. Her eyes flickered up to meet mine as she momentarily hesitated before reaching up between the cups for the front clasp on her bra. Her small tits were instantly exposed as she rolled her shoulders back and the bra slid down her arms. Her nipples were hard.

“Stand still with your hands together behind your back.” As she did it I stood and walked up to her, standing very close. I could tell it intimidated her.

My face was inches from hers. “Your face shows some fear, but your nipples show you like this. It isn’t THAT cold in here… Do you like showing me your nipples?”

She couldn’t look me in the eye. She struggled to speak, lips moving for a few moments. Finally, preceded by a squeak, she said, “Yes, sir, I do.”

I smiled. I reached up and twiddled one, watching it bounce and watching her face contort with pleasure. She liked what I’d done, but hated that her reaction was so obvious. I smiled more broadly and twiddled the other. I swear, her reaction more than doubled, as if this were some perverse exponential mathematics of lust. This was going to be fun.

Over the hour or so Denise did all kinds of things for me in the privacy of my home. She held up her tiny tits so I could lick the nipples. She pulled on her own nipples until the pain was obvious in her face. I had her fully naked in less than 15 minutes. Within a half-hour she was laying on her back on my coffee table, her legs spread and lifted, and her pussy open and wet.

I think my best move was when I told her what I wanted to do with her pussy hair. Her Italian heritage meant thick and extensive hair. After much prodding she admitted to a combination of shaving, depilatory products, and waxing. I told her she could stop all of those. At first she was confused. She didn’t want to turn into a jungle girl, but I think she found the effort to keep herself “within reason” to be a lot of work. I told her I would do it for her.

To be fair, I never said I’d be doing the same things she’d been doing. What I had in mind involved some new products that inhibited hair regrowth, and plucking. Yes, you heard me right – plucking.

Once I’d convinced her I was serious, I went to get tweezers from my toiletry kit. You should have seen her eyes widen when she saw what I had.

“My ultimate goal is to have every hair gone. And I mean every single one. I realize we can’t do this all at once, so we’ll have to work out a schedule of daily – yes, I mean every single day – work on this. Let’s get started.”

“You’re going to pull out the hairs with tweezers?”

“Well, I could use my teeth, but this is more exact. Less likely I’ll pull multiples at once. I’m going for a hundred today. You keep count.”

Before she could register what I’d said, I was up to three. “You’re falling behind. That’s ‘3’. Keep up, girl, keep up.”

She finally piped in about #5. Her counting was frequently punctuated by squeaks of discomfort, but she stuck with it. I was surprised how quickly it went. It didn’t take as long as I thought it would to get to my target. “We’ll do more a little later. Right now I have something different in mind.”

Without any introduction or hint, I dove into her pussy and started licking and nibbling. She squeaked again (what a cute sound), and started panting almost immediately. When I glanced up from her crotch she was staring down the length of her body at me, a look of total surprise on her face. I’m not sure which she was more surprised at – what I was doing or how much she liked it.

This girl was ready. I took me less than five minutes before I saw her belly start convulsing, her eyes popping out, and her neck straining upward as she tried to curl in on herself. It took all my strength to keep her thighs from squeezing my head right out of her wet Y-junction.

Suddenly her head popped back and she stopped breathing. I swear I felt her pussy convulse around my tongue. I rode her to the end, teasing her clit again and again just to watch her jump. Finally I eased my way down from her clit, caressing her inner lips and the rim of her pussy hole with my constantly moving tongue. When I lifted my head she was resting on her back, her legs splayed, and her eyes closed. She was only seconds from falling asleep from exhaustion.

So, I slapped her inner thigh and told her to get up and get dressed, that she had two minutes to be fully dressed or I would tie her to the coffee table and spank her with my belt. An idle threat, I assure you, but she didn’t know that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone move so fast. She dressed in silence, watching me from the corner of her eye.

When she was done she looked shyly at me. “Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?”

“Oh, good grief, no. I just want to keep you aware of who is in control.” I smiled. “I have two tasks for you. Call me later this evening when you have them solved. The first is to find something that inhibits hair re-growth, for our progress in plucking you bald. The second is a schedule for this upcoming week, Monday through Friday, for daily meetings to continue our work with tweezers. This time you’ll supply the tweezers, figure out the place and time. Be sure to allow enough time to get at least 200 hairs done, and as many as 500, in a given session.”

She nodded, relief in her face as she picked up her purse and headed for the door.

“Oh, and Denise, be sure to wear skirts or dresses every day this week. At least once every day I’ll be asking you to remove your panties while we’re at work… Bye!!” I ushered her out the door before she had a chance to respond.
'

I turned back into my living room. This could be a lot of fun…

What I Did With Denise
Chapter 2
by brian_r_98



That first Monday was a rainy day, a sometimes slow but otherwise steady drizzle that promised to last all day. I had some ideas what Denise and I could do with the late afternoon if it did.

I headed off to work at my regular time, smiling and humming to myself in anticipation of my new plaything at work. As I pulled into my parking spot, Denise’s car was already there. I spoke to her at her reception desk as I walked in.

“Good morning, Denise. How was your drive in the rain this morning?” I breezed through the lobby on the way to my office, but I stopped abruptly just before starting down the hallway.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention. I have an idea about the company party next month that I’d like to talk to you about. Come see me when you get a few minutes?” Denise was the go-to person for all catering needs, so my request was legitimate and, at least seemingly, work-related.

I guess it was the way I smiled that put her off, though, because she blushed when I said it. I was still smiling most of the way down the hall to my office. I got busy right away with leftover projects from the week before and it was nearly 10am before Denise showed up with the morning mail. She was clearly nervous.

I looked her square in the eye. “I want you to go to the restroom and remove your panties and bring them back to me. I’ll hold them for you until lunch time.”

“But…but…I’m wearing pantyhose and it will be difficult to remove my…um…panties.”

“Not my problem. But plan on a shopping trip this after afternoon. We can provide you with options.”

“But…”

“Go NOW!” I didn’t yell, but between the emphasis in my voice and the look of ‘no questions’ on my face, she put her notepad down and left.

It took her close to five minutes to return, her left fist balled around something. I stood up and went to my filing cabinet and opened the third drawer down. “Put them in her, behind the folders. This will be your regular place to put them anytime I require this of you.”

She flinched a bit at the word ‘require’, clearly still a bit uncomfortable about being ordered.

“Now, prove to me that you didn’t bring a spare pair and have tricked me with what you but in the file cabinet.”

“Wha…what? Tricked you? What do you mean, ‘prove’…?”

“Lift the hem of your dress and show me you aren’t wearing any panties,” I said softly. I stared her right in the eye as I said it. She began to wilt.

Her hands moved to the front of the dress and she began to inch the fabric up in front, trying to not flash her butt as she slowly revealed her legs and, finally, her hose-covered pussy.

“Thank you. You can drop your dress now. Take a seat and let’s talk about the party.”

She sat but she was very distracted as we talked and I had to pull her back to the reality of work several times before we finished. I even asked for her notebook and reviewed what she’d written. I had to make several corrections.

“You were very distracted in our meeting. I intend to punish you for it at my place after our shopping trip.” My smile…well, it was probably closer to a leer…made her cringe.

“Oh, and you were going to do some research for me.” I wanted to hear about hair regrowth inhibitors and her schedule for plucking. “What do you have for me?”

“Oh…” She was caught off-guard, not prepared for the question. “Um…I haven’t yet found anything on the Internet for products, and it’s hard to make calls about… that… when there are people in and out of the lobby. I plan on making some calls during lunch.” She paused.

“And, um, I thought we could just go to your place every day after work and, um, continue my, um, ‘grooming efforts’.”

“Weak, Denise, very weak. You could have done the research last night after you got home. As for your ‘schedule’, also weak. You’ve made no provisions for anything at work, during lunch break, or in any public place either before or after work. Looks like I’ll be punishing you for that as well.”

I performed my best dramatic sigh. “I’m disappointed, Denise. I expected better.”

I stood and moved toward the door. As I walked I reached into the large side pocket of my blazer. “Look what I brought to work, Denise, some tweezers, just for you! Walk with me and we’ll discuss this.”

The look of discomfort on her face was priceless and she hesitated before she stood. But she followed.

As we stepped into the main hallway we saw a secretary walking by. I spoke to her.

“Miss Garrison, please tell Mr. Johnson that I’ll be a few minutes late for our 11am meeting. I have to go to Records Storage and check out some things but will be right back.”

“Of course, Mr. Carver.” She was gone down the hall one way as Denise and I headed the other way. Turning a corner and seeing no one in the new hallway, I pulled her in to an unassigned office. I closed the door and pushed her back against it.

“Spread your legs and lift your dress. Count the hairs.”

With that I knelt in front of her and began plucking pubic hairs, randomly this time, unlike Sunday afternoon when I’d made a point of being methodical and neat. In short order we were up to a hundred and I stood up. My watch said it was still a few minutes before eleven, so I pulled her arm and pushed her face down over the desk.

“Lift your dress in the back and then pull your ass cheeks apart. I’ll do another 50 along your ass crack.” They were more painful than the pubic hairs, I could tell. She jumped on every one, but she never lost count.

“C’mon, I’ll be late for my meeting.” I had the door open almost before she had her dress down. People were walking by and looked at us questioningly as we came out.

“Alright then, I’ll talk to the plant engineer about converting this room to ‘recent document storage’ while you put together a list of type documents you think should go in here. We’ll meet again tomorrow.”

I glanced at my watch – five minutes past eleven. “I have to run to a meeting. We’ll get together first thing tomorrow morning to discuss this.” And I walked away.

I returned to my office a few minutes before noon to find Denise hovering in the hallway, pretending to search through a stack of folders in her arms. She followed me into my office.

I turned to her. “Yes? Did you want something?”

She reddened. “Um…my…my panties, sir.”

I feigned ignorance. “Panties? Your panties in my office…?” And I smiled. “Ah! I remember, you took them off in the middle of our meeting this morning. Very brazen of you, don’t you think?”

I pointed to the filing cabinet we’d put them in and she walked to it. She opened the drawer and pulled them out, but it looked like she was going to put them in a pocket or something. I interrupted her.

“Uh, uh. Either put them on where they belong or put them on your head. NOW.” This last was spoken forcefully but not loudly. I wanted her to wince, not be deafened. And she did wince…

She also looked confused. “But…but…I’m wearing pantyhose… How can I put them on with my hose already on?” Did I mention she looked confused?

“Well, it seems you have another choice. Just pull them up and leave them that way the rest of the day, sit down RIGHT HERE and put them on properly, or just pull them over your head and return to the lobby that way.” I paused for effect. “Which will it be?”

She put down the folders and lifted one foot, leaning over with the panties in her hand and pulled them up over her pantyhose. When she stood up her panty line was clearly visible across her rump. But I wasn’t going to tell her.

She picked up her folders and turned to go. I stopped her with a touch to her arm. “Meet me after work at the Crescent Shopping Plaza, down the street. There is a lingerie shop there and you’ll be buying some things. Be prepared to spend three or four hours with me after work. We’ll have fun together, I know it.”

I released her arm and turned to sit at my desk. From the corner of my eye I saw her look at me oddly and then turn to go. I smiled to myself. Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

>> more to come

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