Sindy
from Robin's File & Story Archives
"Sindy - Chapter 1"
|
With apologies to Harry Harrison, the author of "Soylent Green" (Originally titled, "Make Room, Make Room"), Charlton Heston (as Detective Thorn), Leigh Taylor-Young (as Shirl, the "furniture" provided by the hotel), Chuck Connors, Brock Peters, Paula Kelly, Edward G. Robertson and everyone in the film, and finally anyone who has ever seen the movie or read the book. I also thank Anzjalise of "Lady Saras Domain" for her help in editing. I had just completed my third tour as Security Officer, this time at Moon Base seventeen, and I was returning to the San Francisco Bay Area for some much desired (and needed) "Rest and Recreation". It was late fall and the weather was a little on the grey side and it had that feel that, if given permission from whoever was in charge, it would probably rain.
I drove down the peninsula to the housing complex offices near Stanford University, and picked up the keys to my new quarters. I drove up the hill in a southerly direction, making good time. I took a right turn off Skyline at a sign which read Windermere, and into a long winding driveway. I had asked for "private quarters, away from traffic". Quarters turned out to be a five bedroom house with a view of the Pacific, with a garage, hot tub and a pool: it also came "fully furnished". I pulled into the driveway, and 'being polite', I rang the doorbell before entering. I didn't wish to intrude if the previous occupants were still there.
She came to the door barefoot, wearing jeans and a blue tube top, and when I told her my name, she swore an obscenity and, leaving the door open just a little, she ran to the center of the room and knelt, head bowed in the middle of the large living room.
"Is that the way you answer the door to my quarters", I ask.
"No, Sir. It's just that I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow, sir", she stammered.
"That's obvious. What's your name?"
"You may assign me any name you wish, but the last owners named me Sindy, Sir"
"Then Sindy it shall be, at least for now."
"OK --- let's get a few things out of the way."
"Yes Sir?"
"How long have you been with the house?"
"Almost a year, Sir. The previous owners were transferred to a new duty station"
I interrupted her. "I didn't ask about the previous owners, I asked how long you had been with the house."
"I'm sorry, Sir. Almost a year, Sir"
"House Rule One - never voluntarily apologize for anything. If you did something wrong, I don't want to hear apologies, I want to see improvement."
"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir --- I didn't mean to apologize, Sir. I mean --- ," and she went silent, waiting for me to continue.
"Enough, Sindy, first things first. Show me where the message center is located. I'll log on and check for messages while you find more appropriate clothing."
"Yes, Sir. Is their anything special you wish me to wear?"
"Since I don't know what you have, pick something comfortable and utilitarian."
She looked askance, stood and left the room.
I was sitting at the terminal in the work center, and after using my biometric card key, I began checking for messages. There were only four unread messages and none of them from work, and so I was looking forward to a quiet evening in my new quarters. I was sitting there in a trance looking at the screen, trying to decide what I was going to do next when she entered the room and knelt beside my chair.
"House Rule Two: never enter this room without permission. I sometimes work on projects, some of which are on a need to know basis. As far as you're concerned, you will never have a need to know. Do not enter this room without specific authorization, do you understand? Go to the living room and wait for me."
Without a word, she bolted from the room like she had been shot at and missed, turned left and went to the living room in half a heartbeat. I followed her in a much more orderly manner and sat in one of the two easy chairs facing the floor-to-ceiling windows on the opposing wall. She was kneeling there, in a sheer white blouse that appeared to be about one size too small, black panties and four inch high heels. She sported a pair of nipple rings piercing her smallish breasts, nearly waist-length light brown hair, and cute smile. She knelt there, unmoving, until I ordered her to approach my chair. When she was kneeling about half a meter from me, I instructed her to massage my feet. She removed my shoes, and then looking up at me, she asked if she should remove my socks as well. I answered in the affirmative. "Sindy, I am going to give you a choice. Do you wish to see if I can get you transferred to the people who used to live here, go to the agency to see about being reassigned, or do you wish to stay here?" "If it would please you, Sir, I would prefer staying here. I love everything about this house and I am truly comfortable here." With unemployment at near record rates, there were many girls and young ladies who volunteered for this type of work in exchange for room and board, and they were willing to accept any type of treatment to avoid living on the streets.
I stood and grabbed a handful of her reddish brown hair. "If you wish to stay here, you need to live by my rules. I may have been off-world for the past eighteen months, but I do have experience with discipline. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir"
"You will treat me with the respect that owners deserve. If I have guests, you will treat them with the same deference as you do me."
"Yes, Sir"
In an effort to "scare her off", I told her that I would be adding several new rings to her labia, increasing the size of the rings she now wore, and adding a tongue piercing. I intended to increase the size of her breasts and installing a permanent collar. Surprisingly, she answered that whatever changes I desired would be welcomed by her, and that she had always harbored thoughts of having larger breasts. She also confided that she really enjoyed being bound, paddled, spanked and being directed by a Master.
I returned to my chair, and she began kneading my feet. "Since you have been here for the past year, you should know where all the shops and services are located. It might be easier to keep you assigned here with me. No sense trying to train two new people."
"Yes, Sir"
"What is your skill set?"
"I can type, handle an office, and I read, write and speak eight languages. I can act as nanny, hostess, or anything else you desire."
"Since I am single, I think your primary chore will be keeping me happy and taking care of my personal needs. I sense that you may be overqualified for my needs."
"Yes, Sir, but if I can, I would like to stay here, Sir."
"There is plenty of space here; would you like to have a bedroom of your own?"
"With your permission, Sir, I would like to sleep in your bed. I enjoy snuggling, and I also enjoy, occasionally, being bound while I sleep," she responded.
"The people at the housing office said that the previous occupants had a kinky side, they had a play room. Did you enjoy your time in the play room?"
She looked down, in a shy smile and nodded.
"Did you enjoy play with him, her or both?"
"Sir, I am bound by orders and honor that I should not talk about what I do with any owner of the house, but I rather enjoy both males and females. I do enjoy bondage, paddles and hand spankings."
I told her to stop massaging, and to kiss my feet and ankles. She seemed to snap to her new position, head down, butt on the air, lips attached to my feet.
After a few moments, I instructed her to stand, feet far apart, hands spread far out to her sides, palms facing the ceiling. I told her this was the way she should stand at anytime when I told her to stand for inspection. I asked if she knew why the position was used.
"Yes, Sir, standing this way offers you my entire body for inspection; nothing can be hidden."
I stood behind her, allowing my hands to explore her body. "Very good. You currently have pierced nipples. If you remain with me, I intend to replace them with a larger gauge ring. Anything worth doing is worth doing right. You will also have your tongue, labia and clit pierced, and I intend to have your breasts enlarged. Questions or comments?"
"No, Sir. I'll undergo anything you wish if I can remain here."
I had her kneel again, but as she went to her knees, I pulled her across my lap and gave her a few good swats on her butt. She leaned forward and began kissing and nibbling on my left arm as I used it to support her body, my right hand swinging in a rhythmic arc reddening her skin.
I told her to return to her kneeling position. "Do you maintain a complete inventory of the house?"
"Yes, Sir"
"I'm something of a carnivore," I joke. "Lots of red meat, light on the starches and green stuff."
"I'm the same way, Master. I'm sorry. Should I call you Sir or Master?"
"You can call me Sir, or you may call me Colonel. You will never call me by my first name, and quit saying I'm sorry, Sir."
"Yes, Sir"
"How are you with domestic duties? Do you cook?"
"Yes, Sir, I have been told that I am a good cook, and I can also give massages." "That sounds like a good place to start. Do you have a massage table set up?"
She answered in the affirmative, stood and took my right hand. With both her right and left hands behind her, she guided me down the hallway, up two steps into another room with floor to ceiling glass. She turned the lights on, hit a switch on the entertainment center, and closed the blinds. I asked if anyone could see into the house. She said she didn't think so, I told her to turn the lights down and open the blinds; I wanted to enjoy the view of the sunset on the ocean.
She knelt in front of me, and began removing my clothes as if she had studied this process for her entire life. She pulled me onto a low leather bench, the size of a king-size bed. She knelt beside me and asked if I wanted my massage to be sensuous, light, medium, heavy or even heavier. I told her that I had had a hard trip down to the house, so a firm massage, but that she should mix it with sensuous.
I explained my training regimen, and what I expected of her, physically, mentally and emotionally. About that time, the house phone rang, and she asked if she could be excused. With a sigh, I told her to answer the phone. She was gone for a few minutes, apologizing about the interruption. I told her that effective immediately, she would be getting a private line installed in her bedroom. She would keep the bell turned down so she could hear it in her bedroom, but no other place in the house. She was not to interrupt anything I was doing, or that we were doing to answer her private line. I instructed her to provide me with two ten-foot pieces of rope, and to face away from me in a kneeling position. When she returned with the rope, I wrapped one piece of rope around her waist twice, and then between her legs and tied in the back. The other piece went around her torso, just below her breasts, and then split so that the ends went over each shoulder and were connected to her waist cinch. I told her that I thought that people's memory was not kept in their brain, but stored in cells on their skin. When she looked askance, I responded by saying that if you tell a person something, they usually forgot it, but if you whip them, they always seem to remember.
The rope harness was just tight enough to be uncomfortable without being painful. "You are wearing that harness to remind you why you are here. You are here for my pleasure. Take your personal phone calls on your personal time."
She continued with the massage on my back, switching back and forth between firm, deep massage and then rubbing her hands ever so lightly over the same area. Suddenly I noticed that the area she was rubbing was larger than her hands. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that she had been rubbing her breasts on my back. I was just going into that dreamy comfortable state that you reach just before going to sleep when the house phone rang again. I ordered her to answer the phone, but not in my presence.
When she returned, I instructed her to guide me into the playroom. It was rather well appointed with a cross on one wall, a table on the opposing wall, and several chests and bureaus scattered around the room. I instructed her to stand in front of the cross and extend her hands and legs. I tied her hands to the upper sections of the cross and retrieved a leather flogger. After about fifteen strokes to her shoulders and across her ass, I tied a vibrator onto the makeshift rope harness and stepped back to watch her squirm. I stepped up to her and placed my hand over her mouth, restricting air flow to her lungs, and pressed my body against hers.
Now when you hold your hand over a person's mouth, the first thing they try to do is hold their breath. After about twenty seconds, they try to exhale the air from their lungs, and failing that, they try to inhale. Failing that they try to exhale again. This little spasm occurs in less than a second, it's quite predictable and easily recognized by someone with even a little bit of training. This form of play causes hypoxia, and can offer an orgasmic event. The rope, the flogging, the vibrator and my body pressing against hers caused her predicted orgasm.
A quick series of three more orgasms in rapid succession created the effect I desired: near exhaustion, rubbery knees, elevated body temperature and a defocused mind. I untied her and instructed her to return to a kneeling position adjacent to the massage bed. "I believe you were in the middle of an assigned task: continue."
For about a half an hour, I relaxed as her hands moved over my body, kneading and caressing my legs and feet. As she progressed up my body, we talked more about her skill set and what I expected of her. Occasionally, her hands nonchalantly brushed my cock and she would turn her head and look directly into my eyes, looking for a response. I intentionally thought of work and anything else that would derail any sexual thoughts or reactions. Her hands migrated to my chest as she continued to massage my body. Her fingers paused over the circular scar just to the left of my belly button, and looked at me askance. "Small altercation at work: a fleeing suspect shot me with a 9mm - spent nearly a month in hospital getting my life and body back together." When she asked for more information, I suggested that it might be a more appropriate conversation for a later time. She explored the small crater with the tips of her fingers, and then her fingernails, and then she lowered her head and explored it with her tongue.
"I've never known anyone who has been shot before," she murmured.
"It was a day that changed my life: I have worn a bullet-proof vest to work everyday since."
She was having so much fun that her lips explored every inch of my chest, the scars and my nipples that I decided I should return the favor, playing with her nipples and the installed golden rings. I swore under my breath and started thinking of all types of horrid things in an effort to bring my thoughts back from the obvious source of sexual excitement. I lifted her head from my chest, and she took my hand and began kissing my hand and sucking on each of my fingers. I gently extracted my fingers from her mouth and she looked at me with a quizzical look. "Do I not please you, Sir?"
"We will definitely pursue this more at another time, but for now, I would like to get a shower and get my work caught up." When I asked her where the shower was, she asked if she should take a shower with me, or at least hold my towel while I showered. While I was giving this idea some consideration and collecting my clothes and thoughts, I noticed her fluid movements. I asked if she enjoyed dancing, and she answered in the affirmative. About this time, the entertainment center began playing music that I can only describe as erotic, Middle East belly dance music, to which her body began to undulate. I don't know why, but I picked up what looked like a piece of plastic tubing about a meter long and 10cm in diameter. I reached out grabbed her hair in my left hand and told her, "If you wish to dance for me, you should maintain eye contact with me. I am here, and you are to dance for my pleasure, not yours."
She continued to dance, and when she closed her eyes the second time, I gave her fanny a sharp stinging blow. With that impetus, she began to dance anew, now watching my eyes. I asked her if she had ever danced before a whip, to which she appeared fearful and answered in the negative. With my left hand, I grabbed the rope harness encircling her chest, and pulled her to me. I kissed her, almost brutally, and pushed her into a kneeling position in front of me. I returned to the chest in the corner and chose a piece of parachute cord about five meters long, and returned to her. I grabbed the rope harness again, and forced her into a standing position. I instructed her to place her feet about a meter apart, and using the tubing; I gently tapped on the rope harness between her legs. I had her bend over and touch her toes and gave her half dozen strokes across her ass. I then instructed her to stand. I seized her hands and twisted them behind her back. My arms pressed her body against my own, now capturing both of her wrists behind her back and between her shoulder blades with my right hand. I moved my left hand to her head and entwining her hair between the fingers of my left hand, turned her face up toward mine. I again kissed her with force. When she began returning my kisses (and breathing deeply) I pulled her head back as far as her body would allow, and told her, "Gently, Sindy, gently" and her tongue stretched to touch my lips.
After a few minutes of this wrestling match of teeth, lips and tongues, I pulled her into a standing position and released her wrists. I told her to place her hands behind her neck and then threaded the cord through her nipple rings and tied the loop with a bowline knot. I placed a cloth gag between her lips, and again kissed her. This time, she responded by snaking her tongue over the cloth and into my mouth.
I ordered her to return to her dancing, using the parachute cord as a nipple leash. She began dancing again, but with a new-found fervor. She would move her body a few meters from me straining the leash; return to my position while rubbing her fanny against me; and then move to a position about a meter away and bending over as if to offer her ass to me. I obliged by giving her a few strokes with the tubing. A moment of sudden enlightened thought ordered my body to retrieve the electric vibrator. I tied it to the back of her rope body harness is such a way as to make the entire apparatus vibrate, but as she stretched her body during her dancing, the ropes between her legs seemed to come alive. After five minutes of dancing and five guided orgasms, she begged me to change the position of the vibrator. Instead, I grabbed the rope harness and pulled her to me. Again holding her body against mine, I used her hair to force her head back so that she was looking up into my face. She climaxed again, but this time it seemed as if the act had removed the bones from her legs as she melted onto the floor.
I disconnected the vibrator from the harness, and after a few moments of respite, ordered her to guide me to the bathroom. I asked if she would like to join me in the shower, but she declined saying she didn't wish to get her hair wet. I had her stand against the wall so she could watch me take my shower, and so that I could watch her from the shower. A wicked thought came to mind. I again collected the vibrator and connected it to her harness. I climbed into the shower and closed the glass doors and began lathering my body. She was watching me and when my hands neared my cock, I could see her eyes widen, and her breathing became short and ragged. I instructed her to climax on command; and then again; and then again.
As I stepped from the shower, she mumbled something into her gag. I removed her gag, and she begged me to remove the vibrator and the harness, and to allow her some time to recuperate and take a shower.
I removed her restraints and ordered her to kneel. By grasping her lower lip, I brought her up into a full kneeling position. I told her to shower, change clothes, make dinner for the two of us.
"For the two of us, Sir?"
"Yes, but be prepared to kneel beside my chair and be hand fed by me."
"And afterwards, Sir?"
|
What links here • References and Sources • Contact Info • Help