I Love Candi
Candice had been babysitting for me ever since I moved to this neighborhood four years ago. Caitlin—my precocious six-year-old daughter—loved her to pieces, and I have to admit that I’d had a tiny bit of a thing for her since she turned sixteen. She had just recently turned eighteen and graduated from high school the week before and was enjoying one last summer at home before heading off to college and the thought of seducing her before she left had crossed my mind more than once. I was only twenty-five, myself, so it wasn’t too big a stretch.
Sure she was pretty. Porcelain skin, short curly red hair and bright green eyes with a darling bashful smile, a cute little upturned nose, and a real serious “sweet and innocent” thing going on.
So imagine my surprise when I came home from a late-night counseling session to find her bound and naked in my dining room! She was seated in one of the dining room chairs, her wrists handcuffed high over her head, a polished steel chain leashing them to the hook in the center of the door well between the living and dining rooms. Her ankles were shackled, the chain woven through the back legs of the chair. There was a cushion under her butt and I could hear the distinct hum of a high-power vibrator. She was muzzled, and when she heard me walk in through the front door, she looked over at me with a look of distress.
I only stood and stared for a few seconds before moving. “Oh, gods!” I cried, running up the stairs as fast as I could. I threw open the door to Caitlin’s bedroom ready for the worst, but she was right there, sleeping as soundly as an angel. I stood in the doorway, letting myself breathe as she stretched in her sleep and turned over, not waking. I picked her favorite bear up off the floor, tucked it into her arm, then quietly closed the door and went back downstairs.
Candice could hear the click-clack of my stiletto heels on the wooden floor as I moved slowly across the living room floor behind her. She was trying to turn in the seat to get a good look at me over her shoulder, worry creasing the lines of her gorgeous fresh young face. Her curls were matted down with sweat and I had to wonder how long she’d been sitting there.
In her position, she could either sit down on the vibrator that was taped to the cushion or hold herself up in the air by pulling up on the chain lashing her to the door well, but her feet were bound back and she had to push herself up on her toes, so she couldn’t hold that position for long. I glanced up at the hook, then over at the potted fern that usually hung on that hook—when I didn’t have someone tied up, that is.
She was trying desperately to hold herself up in the air by the chain while I performed a long, slow inventory of her situation, circling around her. The vibrator she was sitting on was indeed one of my personal favorites—a dildo powered by a wall socket cord. I knew it well enough to know it was on the medium setting just by the sound. Her beautiful bald pussy was drenched in sweat and other fluids giving the air around her a musky scent. She had one of those vanilla nipple chains on, attached with loop chords, and she was wearing a full-chin black-leather muzzle with five straps—two behind her neck, two over her ears, and one cross-strap over her head.
After noting all of this, I looked into her eyes. She gave me a brief embarrassed giggle and then, to her eternal credit, nodded over her shoulder to the stairs with a questioning hum.
“She’s fine,” I told her, and she let out a huge sigh of relief. “You got very lucky in that regard.”
She smiled behind the muzzle and tried to give me an Isn’t this funny? sort of look, but I wasn’t having any. Not yet.
“Practicing a little self-bondage, were we?” I asked. She gave me a pair of puppy-dog eyes and nodded. “Figured that once she was soundly asleep she’d be okay while you had a quickie?” Again, she just nodded, looking remorseful. To be fair, Caitlin was predictable in that regard. Once asleep, she was dead to the world for the whole night. “So what happened?” I asked.
She swallowed hard and then looked down to the side under the dining room table. I followed her gaze and saw the key to the handcuffs on the floor.
“You dropped the fucking key.” I said, shaking my head. “A rookie mistake.” I took a few deep breaths as she whimpered pitiably. I opened my eyes and studied her up and down for a few moments. She looked at me with those huge puppy-dog eyes and I couldn’t decide whether to let her down or slap her stupid.
Then I got an idea.
I fought the urge to grin as I stepped behind her into the kitchen. She tossed a questioning whine over her shoulder as I tossed a popcorn packet into the microwave and poured myself a glass of Riesling.
I shook the popcorn into a bowl, salted it nicely, then walked calmly into the dining room to set bowl, bottle and glass onto the table. Again, I fought not to grin as Candice’s eyes went wide with surprise and worry. I then walked back into the kitchen, filled a tall glass with ice-cold water, and came back. I undid the straps of her muzzle, and pulled it out of her mouth.
“Oh my god, Miss Hardwood! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to endanger Caitlin I swear to god!”
“Silence!” I barked. She clamped her lips shut, so I held out the glass of water and commanded, “Drink.”
She took a few good gulps and I told her, “Swish it.” When she did, gulping it down, I pulled the still more than half-full glass back and asked, “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.” she whispered.
“Good,” I told her, then poured the rest of the cold water onto her tits, sitting in my chair while she squealed in shock. I made myself comfortable, taking a sip of wine and reached out for a few kernels of popcorn with a lazy grin.
“Uh, Miss Hardwood?”
“Yes, Candice?” The meek look of guilt and confusion on her face was priceless. I was enjoying this already, laying a pair of popcorn kernels on my tongue as relaxed and composed as I could be.
“Aren’t you going to let me down?”
“Of course I am, Candice,” I told her, “and I’m going to give you quite the red-rump spanking afterward, I can assure you.” She swallowed nervously as I told her this, but kept her mouth shut. “But first, I’m going to do what any sane, responsible person would do when they’re as furious as I am.”
“What’s that?” She asked me.
I couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin from sliding open onto my face as I told her, “I’m going to count to ten.”
“Ten?” her eyes watched me as she the realization slowly dawned on her. “Ten... orgasms?”
I picked another pair of kernels out of the bowl and said, “You may as well sit down now, honey.”
Her breath quickened in near-panic. “Oh, god!” She whispered, “Oh, god.”
“Come on,” I told her encouragingly, “I know your arms are tired, and I’m dying to see your ‘O’ face.”
She whimpered for another moment longer, looking down at the monster beneath her, and gingerly set herself back down. She let out a primitive grunt as it tickled her underside, pulling herself back up for a moment, blushing a deep red before lowering herself again. She kept her eyes closed, grunting with the stimulation as she dropped her full weight onto the thing, squirming her hips back and forth, rubbing her pussy along its length.
“Oh! Beautiful,” I said, sipping on my wine. She leaned forward, breathing heavy. Her chest heaved as she squirmed, making her chest jiggle nicely. I had to admit that after years of seeing her smile warmly and being all bouncy and chirpy, it was really hot to see her horny and animalistic, her mouth half open as she ground herself onto my punishment vibrator.
She fought hard against the first orgasm, humiliated at the thought of me seeing it. She kept her eyes closed, her face pointed at the ground, and worked herself harder and faster.
They say that forced orgasms—orgasms experienced when trying hard not to have one at all—are the most intense and satisfying in the world. I wouldn’t know, myself. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to let them tie me up, but I do know that a young woman experiencing one is the most beautiful sight on earth. Candice’s started as a desperate whimper falling into a deep-throated grunt as she curled her belly, her feet pulling the chair up, grinding the dildo into her harder as she shook, throwing her head back to moan and then cry out. She kept her eyes tightly shut the whole time, not looking at me as the pleasure rumbled through her.
Good thing, too. She didn’t see me slide my skirt up and my free hand down to touch myself while I watched her come, spraying sweat as she shook in ecstasy. I bit my lip, sliding the tip of one finger along the divide of my labia under my panties as she settled, the chair flopping back onto the floor as she caught her breath.
“One.” I said.
She opened her eyes, holding herself up just enough to not touch the device under her and I pulled my hand away from myself, bringing it up to undo the three buttons of my business jacket and toss it open. I sipped my wine, smiled at her, and waited.
She managed a bashful smile as she closed her eyes again and let herself down. The next two orgasms came easier, with her grunting and squirming and sweating hard. I counted them out, two and three, and she held herself up, asking for water. I filled the water glass again, this time with a straw, and let her drink her fill. I put an arm around her chest as she drank, helping to hold her up as she sipped, and when I set her down I indulged myself a bit, massaging a breast. It was just a little more than a handful and was firm, warm, and slick with sweat. She gasped, leaning her head back to let out a throaty moan. I kissed her, pulling away before she could reach out with her tongue, and walked back to my seat. I peeled off my jacket as she watched, and sat down. I smiled lazily and let my hand slide gently up my inner thigh to my panties.
“Down, girl,” I told her, and she lowered herself onto the device. This time she watched me, holding herself up to lighten the stimulation as she stroked her lips over the vibrator. I held my legs closed just enough to keep her from seeing what I was doing down below and bought the other hand up to slowly unbutton my blouse. She watched as I undid each one down to the waistline of my skirt, then slid my hand under the garment where she couldn’t see and cupped my breast, lifting it ever so little. I closed my eyes and let out a little sigh of pleasure, stroking my thumb across the mound and Candice grunted, dropping herself fully onto the machine.
“Enjoying my little show?” I asked her and she nodded. “Want me to take off my blouse?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Yes, please,” she said louder.
I only grinned, waiting for her to lift her eyes from my chest to my eyes. “’Yes, please’ what?” I asked with a wide grin.
Her breath heaved as she ground into the vibrator, her eyes drooping to half-lidded. “Yes, please, Mistress.”
I smiled wide and told her, “Well, then. You’d better...” I paused for effect, looking her in the eyes, and barked, “Come!”
She spasmed, holding my eyes with hers and moaned in orgasm, her tummy quivering, sweat trailing down around her navel. I knew then that I was just going to have to pierce that thing.
“Four,” I said. Breathing heavy, she looked up at me and I slowly pulled my blouse out of my skirt, sliding it off my shoulders, exposing my breasts in their black lace bra, and tossed it aside. She watched raptly as I cupped one breast gently in each hand and gave them a teasing little squeeze. “Was that worth it?” I asked her.
Still watching my breasts, she whispered, “Yes, Mistress.”
“Good,” I told her with an evil tone of satisfaction. “Now, come again in less than two minutes and I’ll let you pick the bra or the skirt.”
She glanced back up, eyes wide, to see me look down at my watch, then went from sitting to grinding in a blinding flash, the chair scraping loudly back and forth over the hardwood floor as she worked her hips in a furious bid to come fast. “Easy,” I said, setting my foot on the edge of the seat to brace it as she molested the machine under her. “There’s a child sleeping upstairs.”
“Oh, god!” she moaned, grinding harder, “That’s not fair. That is so not fair.”
“One minute,” I told her, and she whimpered loudly, sitting up straighter, arching her back, thrusting out her bouncing chest and slipped into a rapid-motion full-bodied wiggle over the device. Her whimper climbed, louder and deeper.
“Ten seconds.”
“Oh, god!” She half-sobbed, half moaned, and ground for all she was worth, sweat spraying off every inch of her skin.
“Six, five, four, three...”
“AAAAAAAAHHHH!!!” Orgasm hit her with two seconds remaining, her head thrown back, her mouth wide open in a full-body scream of orgasm. I don’t know if she faked that one, but even if she did, it was well worth it. I took a moment to thank all my lucky stars that my neighbors were clients. If they woke in the night to screaming, they only smiled and rolled over.
She dropped, her eyes closed, head down, and chest heaving, her weight settled onto the device beneath her but too tired to move. The sweat shining on her body was glorious. I leaned in, brushing the edge of her ear with my lips and whispered, “Five. Good girl. You get to choose my bra or my skirt.”
She looked up, a small smile on her lips, and said, “Skirt, please, Mistress.”
Silently, I unzipped my skirt and let it fall over my hips to pool around my ankles. She followed it down, then slid her eyes back up my black silk stockings to my black lace panties. “I’d best go check on Caitlin. You made a lot of noise, there.” I reached down, brushing my fingertips over her inner thighs, and switched off the vibrator. “Take a break,” I told her, then walked away, feeling her eyes burning into my lace-accented backside.
True to form, Caitlin was sound asleep, looking ever so precious. A bomb could go off in the living room and that darling little angel wouldn’t so much as yawn. I kicked off my stilettos, tossed them into my bedroom, and went back downstairs. Padding silently across the floor, watching Candace’s torso lift up and down in an effort to catch her breath, I decided I couldn’t let this precious treasure leave town.
“You know,” I told her as she turned to look at me, “It’s ironic.” I crossed the dining room, around the table to the big wooden cabinet that stood ajar at the back. I pulled open the doors, surveying the leather and rubber and steel, and said, “I spent all this time worrying that you would break into my wine cabinet or my medicine cabinet, but here you are breaking into my bondage cabinet instead.” I looked over at her, and she had her head down, blushing furiously. “How long have you been borrowing my toys?”
It took her long moments to answer, finally muttering, “Three years, Mistress.”
I gaped at her, my voice rising. “Three years?”
She didn’t look at me, only nodded. My face felt hot as I crossed to the chair. She looked up at me with a look of intense worry as I approached. I cupped her chin in my hand, holding her gaze. “A fifteen-year-old girl was using my dildos and vibrators?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, Mistress.”
I looked up, away from her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Well, at least I can honestly say I didn’t know.” I walked back to the cabinet, saying, “If I didn’t find you so alluring, I’d send you packing back to your parents with all the gear you violated and a bill for it all.” Wisely, she said nothing. I dug down under the blankets and pulled out the special box. I took it back to the table, setting it down by my popcorn bowl, and said, “Tell me honestly. Have you ever looked in here?”
She glanced at the box for only a moment before looking back down. “No, Mistress. I could never get it open.”
“I should hope not,” I said, sliding my thumb over the lock. With a whisper, it clicked open and I lifted the lid, showing her the jars inside. “Centuries-old family recipes,” I told her. “They were created by the Romany side of my family. I might actually be the last to know them.” I lifted a glass jar filled with a green translucent paste and let her look at it for a moment. “How sore are your shoulders?”
She gave me another pair of puppy-dog eyes, wriggling as she held herself up by the chain and said, “Very sore, Mistress.”
I reached under the table and retrieved the key to her handcuffs. “Let’s give you some relief,” I told her, unlocking them. “Don’t move.”
“Yes, Mistress,” She told me, rubbing her wrists. I opened the jar and held it under her nose. She smiled at the smell of aloe and mint. I scooped out a glob of it and started to slowly work it into her neck and shoulders. Her head drooped and she let out a moan of relief as warmth spread through her. I scooped out another bit and rubbed it into her thighs and calves, then took a moment to slowly rub it into her inner thighs. She smiled, eyes closed with a tired grin as the relaxing effects of the paste seeped into her. I took care not to get any on her glistening sex. Not yet.
“We’ll just give that a moment to work its magic on you,” I told her. She gave a pleasant moan, breathing easier. Her head rested on her chest, her hands on her thighs. I walked back to the kitchen and washed my hands, then came back to the cabinet and she lifted her chin to watch me. I pulled out a few loops of rope and she smiled.
“Didn’t think you were going to get off that easily, did you?” I told her, smiling.
“I’ve always wanted to be tied up,” she said, grinning. “I’m not very good at tying myself.”
I nodded. “We’ll keep it simple the first time.” I folded one of the ropes in half, looped it around one of her wrists, and secured it to the back of the chair. I drew it across to the other side of the chair and tied her other wrist to that.
“Look me in the eyes, Candice.” Her eyes opened halfway and met mine. “Have you ever had anyone else in my home with you when you borrowed my toys?”
She slowly shook her head. “No, Mistress.”
“Have you ever fantasied about submitting to me when you got yourself off?”
She slowly nodded. “Every time.”
That was a little bit of a surprise. I kissed her, letting her use her tongue, this time. The paste had her in a nice suggestible state. Orgasm would seal any suggestion I gave her now, but I took a bit of time to make her more comfortable. I unlocked the shackles on her ankles and tied her feet to the front legs of the chair, then circled the last length of rope around her waist and crossed it between her breasts and over her shoulders, securing it to the top of the chair’s back to hold her torso up straight with a bit of slack so she could still lift herself up.
I reached down and switched the device back on. She jumped a little, but cooed, smiling. I sat back down, and reached for a few more kernels of popcorn as she started to writhe on the thing. She started out looking down, watching her own hips shuffle back and forth over the black plastic rod underneath her. I cooed, watching her, and she blushed, half-smiling as she glanced up at me. I played with my fingers over my breast, sipping wine, and she winked at me, licking her lips. I giggled and she suddenly seemed embarrassed at trying to be coy, so looked back down at herself, focusing on getting herself off. As she got closer, grunting with pleasure, I shifted my chair closer and said, “Candace?”
She looked up into my eyes, “Yes, Mistress?”
I traced my hand down her belly, rubbing my finger in between her lips and circling it over her button. “You know that you love me with all your heart, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.” A moment more and she came, closing her eyes and moaning as pleasure shook her.
“Six,” I said. “Good girl.” She smiled, pushing herself up off the device. I gave her another sip of water. Before she set herself back down, I cupped my hand under her and emptied the glass into it, soaking her sex in ice cold water. She squealed, lifting herself up a little higher as I rubbed.
“Little better?” I asked.
“A little,” she said, not sounding amused, but when I bought my lips close, she turned to kiss me nonetheless. I put the glass down and wrapped my free hand around her to hold her up. I continued to kiss her as she wriggled herself on my hand, my fingertips playing at the edge of her entrance. Her tongue found its way into my mouth and my finger found its way into her passage, sliding in and out, looking for her hot-spot. Her writhing became more frantic and soon her head was thrown back as her moans rose in pitch.
I breathed into her ear and whispered, “You can only think erotic thoughts about me.” This orgasm was silent, shivered out in shuttered breath. She leaned over and kissed me again.
“I only ever do,” she said, smiling and blushing at me.
“Seven, and just making sure,” I told her. “Stay up for another sec.” I grabbed the jar of paste and spread a bit onto her aching sex. She moaned, her eyes half-lidded as I worked it in, then spread it over her breasts, massaging it in and playing with her nipples. I gave her one more kiss then went into the kitchen to wash my hands and refill her glass.
By the time I got back, she was already working herself on the machine. She smiled at me over her shoulder as I walked around her, giving her another sip. I sat and watched as she stroked her sex over the device. It took longer than the others and I knew she was getting worn out, so I shuffled my chair close, sliding my fingertip over her button as she wriggled. Her moans became hungry and needy as I grabbed her hair, pulling her head back and up.
“You could never leave me,” I told her.
“Never,” she whispered, and orgasm shivered through her, making her belly shake with the effort. It was weak, but she smiled anyway as I let go her hair.
“Eight,” I said, and kissed her, switching off the device. “Take five.”
Her chest was heaving, her breasts jiggling with each gasp. I set my chair down in front of hers, sat down with my legs crossing over hers and leaned in for a series of long luxurious kisses. I fed her popcorn and wine and traced my fingers over her skin while she rested. It was twenty delightful minutes before she whispered, “I’m ready to finish now, Mistress.”
I gave her one more sip of wine, slid my chair back, and switched on the vibrator. She took a shuddering breath, her face going flush immediately. She writhed, watching me as I stood, reached back to unhook my bra and let it slide from my shoulders. She bit her lip as I bought myself close. I took her head in my hands, intertwining my fingers in her hair and held her close as she nuzzled into my chest. She kissed, suckled, and even nibbled as she squirmed. As she climbed closer to climax, I said, “You will serve me all your life.”
Orgasm rolled through her, her moans muffled by my breasts. “Nine.” She reached up to kiss me wordlessly, exhaustion making her strain with the effort. “One more,” I said.
She set herself back down, almost too tired to move and whispered, “I don’t think I’m walking home, tonight.”
I brushed her cheek, adoring the look on her face, and said, “You are home.” She smiled.
She barely moved, this time. She was too tired. She rocked her hips back, setting her weight down on her clit and pressed down. “Mistress?”
“Yes, Candi?”
She grinned. “I like that name.”
I gave her a nod. “Then from now on, it’s your slave name.”
“Would you please take off your panties, Mistress?”
“Oh, I think my Candi has earned that much.” I slid my panties down and kicked them away. I was wet, my lips puffy and loose. I slid my hand down my belly and played my fingers through them as Candi watched with rapt attention, moving herself over the buzzing machine. I worked one finger in, wetting it, and bought it to her lips. She sucked on it eagerly, her hips moving faster. She stopped sucking, leaning her head back and moaning half in pain and half in pleasure as her final climax approached.
“Candi?” She didn’t answer—couldn’t answer as she moaned, her body moving desperately. “I own you completely.”
She came, a few explosive shudders jerking her hips as she cried out.
“Ten.” I said, switching off the machine. “Good girl.” I sat down in her lap, wrapping my arms around her as she slumped forward into me, nuzzling her head between my head and shoulder. Her whole body shook as her breath heaved.
“I love you, Mistress,” she muttered.
“I love you too, Candi.” I held her for a long while before untying her. I had to half carry her up the stairs to my bed and she was asleep as soon as she lay down. I went back downstairs to clean up. When I came back upstairs I took a moment to look in on Caitlin—still sleeping like an angel—then slid in beside my new slave. She smiled, rolling over in her sleep to lay her head on my breast and one arm across my belly. I put an arm around her and hugged her close.
She whispered on word, “Home.” And slept.