This is a bit awkward, as my blog is basically closed, as my pinned post explained. I do have my small side blog @tanjagoonette for some silly edging games, but also that is not really active.
I’ve been focusing more on long form content, writing erotica. And short stories kept growing and adding more lore and details, one of them grew into an actual novel, 350 pages long.
It’s about a fetishistic night club, Club Abyss, with a vampiristic background and supernatural overtones.
You can find it on Grometsplaza under this link : https://www.latexstories.net/storiessz/stilettos_of_the_languished_arches101.html
Stilettos of the Languished Arches by Tanya Sanguine
In the shadowy depths of Club Abyss, a fetish club where pleasure and pain intertwine, three women’s lives are bound by curses and vengeance. Lena and Mina, BDSM enthusiasts, fetishists for latex, heels and vibrant dancing, are trapped and slowly ensnared by the dark club, yearning for the lust and desires that have been stolen from them. The enigmatic and cruel hostess Evelyn, thrives on suffering and pain, plotting ever darker schemes to deepen their prey's agony. As the stakes rise and the line between desire and despair blurs, the trio is drawn into a twisted dance of rivalry and retribution. Beneath the club’s glittering façade lies a world of painful needle-tipped challenges, lewd forbidden articles of clothing, obscene and wicked footwear, and an unbreakable drive to reclaim lost freedom. Will Lena and Mina find a way to break free, or will Evelyn’s next move seal their fate in lustful, but eternal suffering?
There is an epub and pdf version as well, containing some silly ai illustrations of scenes and characters, plus it’s a much better format for reading. Drop me a message if you are interested in that.
I’d love to hear some feedback on it.
There is a part 2 of the novel, even longer, which is being published on Grometsplaza as well, but it’s not complete there yet. EPUB on request if you want to read ahead ;-)
CW: conditioning, unfair game, addictive game mechanics, orgasm denial
Imagine, if you will. a hypothetical longterm game of random denial.
I hand you six blank cards and one with an X. the rules are simple. each day, you get to shuffle, and flip the top card. as long as it doesn't come up with an X, you can cum.
6/1.
First day. blank card. you win! hardly surprising. the odds were stacked in your favor. right after you orgasm, right as your brain is still flooded with oxytocin and other happy chemicals, I give you another card with an X and you add it to the deck.
6/2.
The next day, same thing. You flip a winning card, you get to cum. then put another X card in. the odds just went down. and its the first thing you did as you orgasmed. can you see the game thats being played here? maybe not. don't worry about it.
6/3.
two out of three is still good odds. next day. same deal. you cum. you put another losing X in.
6/4.
Finally, you hit your first loss. it's devastating, but also the burning frustration feels good too.
maybe you expect I'll put in another winning card.
I don't. Well. the chances will never be zero, no matter how many losing cards you add...
next day, you get unlucky again.
and again.
three days in a row. its agonizing. you used to be allowed to cum whenever.
You feel so excited the next day and- yay! blank card, you win, and get to add another losing card as you cum. it feels even better since you waited.
6/5.
six let you cum, five don't.
6/6.
the odds are fifty fifty now. The misses feel the good kind of bad, and the wins feel better than ever. the days go by...
6/10.
youre down to one in three now. but they'll never hit zero.
and then you lose four times in a row and get sad.
so I offer you a bonus. You can add an X card, cum, then add a second X card. no random chance.
you take it, of course. it feels weird. like you didnt get one reward, but three.
6/12.
its a whole week before you get to cum again. bad luck.
6/13.
i offer you another bonus.
Take out a winning card, and you can cum.
five blanks isn't that much less than six, after all.
you do it.
5/13.
Three days of bad luck.
5/14.
Three days of bad luck again.
another bonus. you love those.
I take one of the blank cards out of the deck and give you a marker. You understand immediately. Mark the card with an X, and you get to cum.
You hesitate. It's a bad idea. but the tingling...
you do it. you mark the x. you cum. you put it in the deck.
4/15.
you get lucky the next day.
4/16.
one in five is... it's fine. you have a lucky few days the next week. youre starting to get the tingling not from orgasm, but from the daily ritual of flipping the card itself.
4/19.
you have a really, really bad run. two weeks. 14 days straight, you remain at 4/19, never getting to cum, never adding a card. its so close to a funny number. I offer you a bonus.
you can add an X card. for no bonus.
you hesitate.
but you do it.
and it feels good.
4/20.
two weeks go by with better luck.
4/23.
then another run of four losses.
I pull a blank card out and give you a bonus offer. mark it with an X, and you get to flip two more times today.
Two free flips.
Of course you take it.
you lose both.
3/24.
you're starting to get antsy. you can't think about anything else. one orgasm a week. but you get to flip a card every day. that's almost as good. maybe it's better.
3/27
you go an entire month of nothing but losses.
I put two of your remaining blank cards in front of you, and offer you the best bonus yet.
mark them both, and you get to cum twice today.
of course you take it. you havent gotten to cum two days in a row in ages, let alone twice in a day.
yet you keep thinking back to how it felt when I offered the bonus. when did just the bonus offer itself become as good as an orgasm?
1/29.
once a month isn't so bad, right?
1/30
theyre getting further apart.
1/40
its been a year now.
you hit a bad streak.
90 days without an orgasm.
90 days without adding an X card.
I put the last winning card in front of you.
hand you a marker.
and smile.
What do you get if you mark it?
simple.
nothing.
You get nothing.
but you get to put another x card in.
and if you do it, we change the rules of the game.
each time you flip an X card, you'll get to flip a coin. if you win, you get to put another X card in.
a fifty fifty chance of a reward is the best deal youve had in a year. you'd be stupid not to take it.
you draw an x on the final blank card. you put it in the deck.
you smile.
0/50.
0/75.
0/99.
It's getting a little hard to shuffle now. I'm all out of cards after this last one.
It's blank.
I hand you a marker, and give you a choice.
do you prefer a one percent chance to cum forever? who knows how long it could be before it comes up again.
or do you want to put an X card in the deck, and get to cum right now.
I want you to slip your hand in to your panties right now. If your cunt is wet, then you have reblog this so everyone knows you’re a horny wet slut right now
It may seem as if I've gone mad. But in fact, I'm completely sane. Excited, but frighteningly clear-headed.
So, this is the plan:
I'm starting long-term self-denial again on a strict edging schedule, with the goal of not having a full orgasm before 08/08/2031.
That’s 2,000 days, or 5 years, 5 months and some change.
Taking effect immediately. No final orgasm.
Why this Duration?
My OCD enjoys round numbers and dates like 08/08. Of course, that’s not all.
1 I have done three years and a few months of edging and denial before. Less than this is unacceptable. I wanted the new duration to be significantly longer. Not so long to make an escalation afterwards impossible though.
2 Five and a half years is about as long as it took to the qualification for my profession and my degree. I wanted a duration to signify that I take this endeavour as seriously as I did my studies, that I’m willing to put the time and effort in.
3 Committing to denial for five and a half years is scary. I don’t want to do it. However, this is not about me, what I want, or my comfort. But it’s something I feel needs to be done. Against my better judgement, if necessary. I’m counting on enjoying it once I get into the flow like I did before. If not, I must count on my stubbornness. Not wanting to go for so lang is a sign I *need* to go for so long.
4 This duration should be long enough to fit in some smaller “projects” I always wanted to do but never started with: deep-throat training, inducing lactation and maybe more.
Edging Schedule
Default days
Morning edging: three edges or 15 minutes (whatever finishes first), naked, immediately after waking up.
Evening edging: three edges or 15 minutes (whatever finishes first), naked, journaling afterwards and then immediately to bed.
Daily edging session: can range from 30 minutes to several hours, depending on my obligations that day.
No edging in bed. Again, it’s not about my comfort.
(I need to add rules about specifics here later, to keep it varied and fresh: no-touch-days, nipples-only, dildo fucking only, gagged, clamped/bound, plugged etc.)
Weekends
Progress report, public if interesting enough
Monthly
A whole weekend dedicated to edging from Friday evening to Sunday evening.
(More rules to be added as going along.)
Opting-out clauses
From daily requirements: If necessary for physical or mental health or for other acceptable reasons (e.g. job, sharing a room). Frustration, discomfort, or “not being in the mood” are not acceptable reasons.
From the whole program: If a relationship manifests and this denial and edging program turns out to be an obstacle.
Reward
If I reach my goal, I will have a custom-made chastity belt made for myself.
Outlook
If this works out like planned, I will be 38 before I get the chance to a full orgasm. I’m dedicating more than half a decade of my life (a period in which I’m at my sexual prime too) to stripping myself down to the most basic urges. I hope it will be a period of worthwhile self-discovery.
The night air was crisp as I slipped through the fire escape window of the high-rise apartment. I’d cased the place for days—single woman, early thirties, lived alone in this upscale building. No alarms, no dogs, just easy pickings. The lock gave way with a soft click, and I was in, my heart pounding with that familiar rush. The living room was dimly lit by a streetlamp filtering through the blinds, casting shadows over sleek furniture and a half-empty wine glass on the coffee table.
I moved like a ghost, gloved hands rifling through drawers. Cash in the kitchen— a few hundred bucks tucked in a cookie jar. Jewelry in the bedroom nightstand: gold earrings, a diamond necklace that screamed “pawn shop goldmine.” But as I pocketed them, a faint sound stirred from the bed. She was there, asleep under the sheets, her dark hair splayed across the pillow. Curvy figure outlined in the moonlight, breathing steady. Fuck, she was gorgeous—full lips, high cheekbones, the kind of body that turned heads.
She woke with a start as I approached, her eyes widening in terror. “Who—?” she gasped, but I was on her in an instant, clamping a hand over her mouth. She thrashed, nails scratching at my arms, but I was stronger. I flipped her onto her stomach, yanking her wrists behind her back. From my bag, I pulled zip ties—quick, efficient. I bound her hands, then her ankles, spreading her legs wide and securing them to the bedposts. She bucked and screamed into my palm, her muffled cries sending a twisted thrill through me. I stuffed a pair of her own panties into her mouth, sealing it with duct tape wrapped tight around her head. Her eyes pleaded, tears streaming, but that only fueled the fire in my gut.
“There, there,” I whispered, my voice low and mocking. “Just relax. I’m not here to hurt you… much.” She whimpered, her body trembling as I stood back to admire my work. Spread-eagled on her stomach, ass up, vulnerable. But business first. I turned to her dresser, emptying it methodically. More cash, credit cards—jackpot. In the bottom drawer, buried under lingerie, I found it: a sleek magic wand vibrator, the kind with a powerful motor. Pink, well-used. I chuckled to myself. Naughty girl.
Pockets full, bag slung over my shoulder, I headed for the door. But something pulled me back. Her muffled sobs from the bedroom, the way her hips shifted helplessly against the bonds. I paused, the vibrator heavy in my hand. Why not leave her with a parting gift? A wicked grin spread across my face as I returned.
She froze when she saw me, eyes darting to the toy. I set my bag down and climbed onto the bed, straddling her thighs. “Time for a little fun,” I murmured, my fingers hooking under the hem of her nightshirt. She shook her head frantically, but I ripped it up, exposing her bare skin. No bra, just soft, heaving breasts pressed against the mattress. I cut the fabric away with my knife, then sliced through her panties, leaving her completely naked. Her skin was warm, flushed with fear and humiliation. I flipped her onto her back—easier access—and retied her wrists to the headboard, legs still splayed wide.
God, she was exquisite. Trimmed pussy glistening slightly—fear or arousal? Didn’t matter. I positioned the wand right against her clit, the bulbous head nestling perfectly. Using more duct tape, I secured it in place, wrapping it around her thighs to hold it firm. She bucked, trying to dislodge it, but it was locked on. I leaned in close, my breath hot against her ear. “This is gonna drive you crazy, sweetheart.” Click—the switch flipped to high. The buzz filled the room, and her body jerked as the vibrations hit her core. A strangled moan escaped through the gag, her hips arching involuntarily.
I watched for a moment, mesmerized. Her nipples hardened, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Already, her eyes were glazing over, the first wave building. I snapped a few photos with my burner phone—close-ups of her bound form, the wand humming away, her face twisted in reluctant ecstasy. Souvenirs for later. “Enjoy the ride,” I said, grabbing my bag and slipping out the window. Her muffled cries faded as I descended the fire escape, the city lights twinkling below.
An hour later, I was at the pawn shop, the shady kind that didn’t ask questions. The owner, a grizzled old timer named Vic, eyed the jewelry under his magnifying glass. “Nice haul,” he grunted, sliding over a wad of bills. I pocketed it, leaning against the counter as he tallied up. My mind wandered back to her. How long had it been? Forty minutes? An hour? That wand on high—relentless, merciless. I imagined her writhing, sweat-slicked skin, orgasms crashing over her one after another. Was she begging through the gag? Passing out from the overload? A dark heat stirred in my pants. Fuck, I should’ve stayed to watch.
Vic handed me the receipt, snapping me out of it. “You look like the cat that ate the canary. Good night?”
I smirked. “You have no idea.”
Back in the apartment, Christine’s world had dissolved into a haze of unbearable pleasure and torment. The burglar had left her like this—exposed, helpless, the vibrator a cruel tormentor strapped to her most sensitive spot. At first, she’d fought it, muscles straining against the ties, but the vibrations were too intense, too direct. The first orgasm hit like a freight train, ripping through her body, making her scream into the gag until her throat was raw. Her clit throbbed, oversensitive, but the wand didn’t stop. It buzzed on, forcing another wave, then another.
Time blurred. How long had it been? Hours? The night stretched endlessly. Sweat drenched the sheets, her body convulsing in rhythm with the relentless hum. She came again, her vision spotting black, pleasure twisting into pain. In and out of consciousness, she floated in a delirious fog. The vibrator felt like it was sucking her dry, draining every ounce of her essence. Her pussy clenched around nothing, juices soaking the bed, but it wasn’t enough—it never stopped. “Please,” she thought desperately, her mind fracturing. “Make it stop… or don’t…”
Another climax built, her back arching off the mattress, toes curling in agony-ecstasy. She blacked out briefly, waking to the same torment. The room spun, her breaths ragged through the gag. Was he coming back? Part of her—the dark, hidden part—almost wished he would, to witness her unraveling, to touch her amid the chaos. But he didn’t. The wand ground on, pulling her under again.
Dawn crept through the blinds, painting the room in soft gray. Christine’s body trembled, exhausted, spent. Orgasms came in weaker pulses now, her nerves fried, but still it persisted. She drifted, semi-conscious, the vibrator a vampire latched to her soul. Sucking her dry, yes—that’s what it felt like. Emptying her of resistance, of dignity, leaving only raw, quivering need.
By morning, when her neighbor finally heard the faint buzzing and called the cops, Christine was a wreck—untied, freed, but forever changed. The photos? They’d surface online eventually, anonymous posts from a throwaway account. But for now, in the pawn shop’s afterglow, I wondered: Was she still cumming? The thought made me hard all over again.
Story cleaned up with grok AI, as English is not my first language.
Continued from the story in my previous post, read that first!
Part 1 is here: https://www.tumblr.com/tanjagoonette/808523393083342848/tumblr
Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your
The days after Elena’s ordeal stretched into a second week. Mark’s meetings ran long, and neither of them wanted to leave Singapore just yet. The memory of Elena’s public humiliation still burned hot between them—every time she caught a stranger’s lingering glance in the lobby, her thighs clenched with a mix of shame and lingering arousal. But the rage was there too. They wanted the woman who had escalated everything. The anonymous maid.
They started with simple social engineering. Mark called room service twice a day, always polite, always asking for “the same girl who helped us yesterday—the one with the soft voice and the quick hands.” He described her build, her accent, the faint scent of her perfume. On the third call he slipped in a compliment about how “thoughtful” she’d been with the special requests. The supervisor laughed and said, “Oh, that’s Mia. She’s on the afternoon-to-evening shift this week.” By the next morning they knew her full name: Mia Delgado, 26, room-service veteran, dating one of the window-washers. Elena had already pulled her employee photo from the hotel’s internal app after Mark sweet-talked a bored concierge into showing him the staff directory “for a surprise gift.”
They waited in the lobby lounge at 17:30, nursing overpriced cocktails. When Mia stepped out of the staff corridor in her crisp uniform, Elena rose first.
“Mia. Suite 4507. Remember us?”
The young woman froze, tray still balanced on her hip. Her eyes darted to the exits, but Mark was already beside her, smiling like an old friend.
“Easy. We just want to talk. Sit.”
They took a quiet corner table. Elena slid her phone across, screen showing a paused frame from the viral clip: Mia’s gloved hands tightening the vibrator straps, the clothespins gleaming on Elena’s nipples, the ID card taped beside her terrified face.
“Hotel security footage caught you entering and leaving. We have timestamps. We have witnesses. We can ruin your life in ten minutes.”
Mia’s face drained of color. “Please… I was just—”
“Helping your boyfriend get more views?” Mark cut in. “We’re not here to negotiate. Two choices. We walk to the police station right now, or you spend one night in our care. Same room you left me in. Same helplessness. Same lights on. Then we delete everything and you never see us again.”
Mia stared at the table for a long minute, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt. Then she whispered, “One night. That’s it?”
“One night,” Elena confirmed. “And you show up voluntarily. If you don’t, the police get the file at 19:00.”
Mia arrived at 18:00 sharp, still in her uniform, eyes red from crying. They had already rented the room next door—4512—under a fake name, paid in cash, one night only.
Mark locked the door behind her. “Strip. Everything.”
She did, hands shaking, until she stood naked in the middle of the brightly lit room. Elena circled her slowly, drinking in the sight of the woman who had tormented her. Mia’s body was tight and athletic, small firm breasts, a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair above her pussy.
Mark opened the large black bag he’d had delivered that afternoon. The transparent latex bondage sack unfolded like a glistening second skin—thick, glossy, completely see-through. Internal sleeves ran the length of the arms, ending in mittens that would trap her hands uselessly against her own thighs. A built-in hood left only her nose and mouth exposed. The inside was already dusted with a fine white powder that looked innocent until it met sweat.
“Step in,” Mark ordered.
Mia obeyed, sliding her legs into the sack, then her arms into the internal sleeves. Mark pulled the zipper up her back with slow, deliberate tugs, sealing her inside. The latex clung instantly, molding to every curve. He laced the hood shut, leaving her blind and muffled. Only her nose and lips remained visible.
Elena stepped forward with the toys. First the butterfly vibrator—powerful, remote-controlled—strapped tight over Mia’s clit with latex straps that disappeared under the sack’s edges. Then the hollow squirting dildo: thick, veined, already filled with a thick capsaicin cream. Mark eased it deep into Mia’s pussy, the base locking against her folds so it couldn’t be expelled. A final strap around her thighs would keep her legs slightly parted, but not enough to prevent squeezing.
Mark crouched so his voice reached her through the hood. “Listen carefully, Mia. The sack is locked from the outside. The internal sleeves mean your hands are completely useless—pressed to your sides, fingers trapped in mittens. You can’t reach the zipper. You can’t reach the toys. The room is set to 25 °C. It’ll feel warm soon. The powder inside the latex is sweat-activated itching powder. The more you sweat, the more it burns. The vibrator is on low for now. Every time you come, you’ll clench around the dildo. When you squeeze hard enough, the capsaicin cream will start to leak—slowly at first, then faster. It’ll feel like fire inside you. And the lights stay on. Every window, every lamp. The curtains are open. Anyone in the buildings across the street can watch you writhe all night.”
He flicked the remote. The butterfly buzzed to life against her clit.
Mia’s muffled cry was immediate.
Elena lifted her phone and recorded a slow, steady video: the gleaming transparent sack, Mia’s naked body perfectly visible inside, nipples already stiff, hips twitching as the vibrator worked her. The hood hid her face, but her lips were parted in a helpless moan. Elena made sure to zoom in on the toys, the locked zipper, the helpless mittened hands pressed uselessly to her thighs.
Mark set the air-conditioning to hold at 25 °C, turned every light on full, and opened the heavy curtains wide. The city skyline glittered back at them.
“Checkout is at 11:00 tomorrow,” he told the hooded woman. “Your colleagues will come to clean this room. If you haven’t escaped by then, they’ll find you exactly like this—naked, sealed, coming and burning in front of the entire hotel. Your choice. Good luck.”
He placed the remote on the table, well out of reach, and they left.
The door clicked shut.
Inside the transparent prison, Mia’s world became heat and vibration and rising panic. The latex already felt warm. Tiny beads of sweat formed on her skin. The itching powder woke up in slow, creeping waves—first a tingle along her ribs, then a maddening crawl across her breasts, her belly, the crack of her ass. She tried to rub against the latex, but the sack was too tight; every movement only spread the powder and pressed the butterfly harder against her clit.
The first orgasm hit in under ten minutes. Her thighs clenched involuntarily. A thick drop of capsaicin cream seeped from the dildo, coating her inner walls. The burn bloomed instantly—hot, vicious, unrelenting. She screamed into the hood, body convulsing, which only made her squeeze again. More cream. More fire. The itching powder, now fully activated by her sweat, turned every inch of skin into a crawling, prickling hell.
Across the street, lights were still on in dozens of windows. Phones were already being lifted. The transparent sack left nothing to the imagination: every twitch, every helpless spasm, every tear that soaked the inside of the hood was on full display.
Mia had until 11:00.
She already knew she wouldn’t make it.
The room temperature held steady at 25 °C, just warm enough to coax a constant sheen of sweat from Mia’s skin. Inside the transparent latex sack the heat built slowly, trapped and amplified, turning her body into a glistening, sealed furnace. The itching powder woke up in earnest within the first half-hour. It began as pinpricks along her underarms and the small of her back, then spread like wildfire across her ribs, her breasts, the tender crease where thigh met groin. Every tiny movement—every futile twitch to relieve the maddening crawl—only ground the powder deeper into her pores. She tried to stay still, but the butterfly vibrator strapped mercilessly over her clit made stillness impossible.
It buzzed on low at first, a cruel, patient tease. Mia fought it, clenching her jaw behind the hood, refusing to give Elena and Mark the satisfaction of another easy orgasm. But biology betrayed her. The steady thrum coaxed her nerves awake despite the itching hell, despite the growing burn from the capsaicin cream still contained inside the hollow dildo. Her first climax arrived at forty-seven minutes past six—sharp, involuntary, humiliating. Her inner walls spasmed hard around the thick intruder. A thick pulse of the cream squeezed out, coating her sensitive channel in slow, viscous heat.
The burn ignited instantly.
It felt like liquid fire pouring inside her, searing every fold, every nerve ending. Mia screamed into the latex hood, the sound muffled to a pathetic, animal whine. Her thighs clamped together instinctively—and that only forced more cream out. The cycle began: orgasm → clench → fresh burn → frantic writhing → more sweat → fiercer itching → another helpless peak. She lost count after the fifth. Time dissolved into waves of torment.
Through the haze of pain and overstimulation, hatred crystallized. Elena. The rich bitch who’d come to the hotel on her husband’s dime, who’d spread her legs for public entertainment and then turned around to play the victim. Mia pictured Elena’s smug face in the lobby, the way she’d leaned forward and whispered, “One night. That’s it.” Mia’s mind looped on revenge fantasies even as another climax tore through her: Elena bound in the same sack, same toys, same open curtains. She imagined forcing Elena to beg in front of the entire hotel staff, recording it, leaking it wider than any window-washer stream ever could. The fantasies kept her sane for a while—until the itching reached the insides of her nostrils and the burn inside her pussy became a constant, throbbing inferno that drowned out everything else.
By midnight the city lights outside had dimmed to a skeleton crew of insomniacs and night-shift workers. A few windows across the street still glowed; phones had been raised earlier, recording bursts of her convulsions before their owners lost interest or went to bed. Mia no longer cared who watched. She was past shame. She was just meat sealed in latex, sweating and coming and burning and itching, over and over.
At 3:17 a.m. the vibrator’s battery gave a faint stutter—then died. For ten glorious minutes the butterfly fell silent. Mia sobbed in relief, body trembling, the capsaicin still smoldering inside her but no longer being milked out by fresh spasms. The itching powder, however, had no off switch. Her skin felt flayed. Every breath dragged fire across her chest.
Mia howled.
Dawn crept in gray and indifferent. By 8:00 a.m. the room was bright again, sunlight streaming through the open curtains, turning the transparent sack into a crystal prison. Mia hung limp, barely conscious, sweat-soaked latex clinging like a second, suffocating skin. Her lips were cracked, her breathing shallow and ragged.
The door opened at 9:14.
Luz, one of Mia’s fellow room attendants on the morning shift, stepped inside with her cleaning cart. She stopped dead when she saw the figure suspended in the middle of the room—naked, sealed, glistening, trembling faintly.
For a long moment Luz said nothing. Then she laughed—low at first, then louder, genuine and delighted.
“Oh my god, Mia. What the actual fuck?”
She circled the bound woman slowly, phone already in hand. No hesitation. She snapped photo after photo: close-ups of the hooded face, the mittened hands trapped uselessly against Mia’s thighs, the butterfly vibrator still buzzing weakly now on its last reserves, the base of the dildo visible between spread legs. Luz zoomed in on the streaks of dried fluids on the inside of the latex, the angry red flush beneath the powder residue.
“You really let them do this to you?” Luz murmured, half to herself, half to the hooded figure. “For what? Some video views? Jesus.”
Mia tried to speak—beg, explain, threaten—but only wet, broken sounds came through the hood.
Luz crouched, inspecting the locked zipper. “They really didn’t leave you any way out, huh?” She laughed again, softer this time, almost pitying. “Guess big shots like that don’t play fair.”
She stood, pocketed her phone, then reached for the zipper pull. Slowly, teasingly, she tugged it down an inch—then stopped.
“Say please.”
Mia whimpered.
Louder: “Say please, Luz, let me out.”
The sound Mia made was barely intelligible, but it was close enough.
Luz grinned. “Good girl.”
She unzipped the sack in one long pull. Cool air rushed in; Mia gasped, collapsing forward as Luz caught her under the arms. The hood came off next, revealing Mia’s tear-streaked, flushed face, eyes swollen and wild. Luz peeled the latex away in sections, careful around the toys. When the butterfly finally came free Mia sobbed outright. The dildo took longer—Luz eased it out slowly, letting the last of the capsaicin cream drip onto the carpet.
Mia curled into a ball on the floor, shivering, skin blotchy and inflamed from hours of itching powder and chemical burn.
Luz patted her cheek, almost tenderly. “Clean yourself up before checkout. I’ll tell the supervisor you called in sick. And Mia?” She leaned closer. “Next time you help your boyfriend humiliate a guest… pick someone who doesn’t bite back.”
She stood, collected her cart, and left the door propped open behind her.
I got inspired by this captioned image (not mine) and thought of a small story:
Elena had always been adventurous in the bedroom, but this business trip to Singapore pushed her boundaries further than she ever imagined. Her husband, Mark, knew her kinks all too well—exhibitionism, humiliation, the thrill of being exposed. When he suggested she join him on the trip, he promised to keep things exciting while he was tied up in meetings. “Don’t worry, love,” he’d whispered that morning, securing the thick leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles, chaining her arms high to the suction cups on the massive floor-to-ceiling window of their high-rise hotel suite. “This vibrator is set on the lowest speed. It’ll tease you all day, building slow. Imagine someone spotting you from those skyscrapers across the way.”
Naked and spread-eagled against the glass, Elena felt the cool air conditioning kiss her skin as the toy buzzed faintly between her thighs, taped securely in place. The city sprawled below, a jungle of steel and glass, but from the 45th floor, she felt untouchable—until she wasn’t. As the hours ticked by, the slow vibration coaxed her toward the edge, her mind wandering to fantasies of voyeurs with telescopes, peering into her vulnerability. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her nipples hardening against the chill of the window, her arousal dripping down her legs.
That’s when she saw them: two window washers, descending slowly on their platform from the roof. At first, she thought it was her imagination, a hallucination born of frustration. But no—they were real, young men in harnesses, squeegees in hand, lowering level by level. Her heart pounded as they approached her floor, the platform creaking into view just outside the glass. One of them, a tall guy with a scruffy beard, froze mid-wipe, his eyes widening as he locked onto her nude form, chained and trembling. His partner, shorter and stockier, followed his gaze and dropped his bucket with a clang.
“Oh god,” Elena whispered, a spike of dread piercing her chest. But beneath it, the vibrator’s relentless hum amplified the heat pooling in her core. They could see everything—her flushed skin, the chains pulling her arms wide, the toy wedged against her clit. The tall one grinned, whispering something to his partner, who nodded eagerly. They weren’t turning away; they were staring, drinking her in.
The stocky one pulled out his phone, dialing quickly. Elena strained to hear through the glass, her body quivering as the vibration pushed her closer. “Yeah, reception? This is the window cleaning crew on the east side, 45th floor. Who’s in suite 4507? We… uh, need to confirm something.” A pause, then a chuckle. “Elena Thompson? Married to Mark? Got it, thanks.”
Elena’s stomach twisted in horror. They had her name. How? Why? The dread coiled tighter, making her thighs clench around the toy, her arousal surging despite—or because of—the panic. The tall one grabbed a marker from his tool belt, scribbling on a scrap of paper from his pocket. He held it up to the glass, pressing it flat so she could read: “ELENA THOMPSON - NAUGHTY WIFE EXPOSED.”
Her eyes bulged, a whimper escaping her lips. Seeing her own name there, bold and accusing, sent a wave of humiliation crashing over her. Dread flooded her veins, but it twisted into something electric, amplifying the slow build-up from the vibrator. She was exposed, named, no longer anonymous. Her body betrayed her, hips bucking involuntarily as the orgasm hit—slow, shuddering, waves of pleasure ripping through her while she stared at her name, tears pricking her eyes. “No… oh fuck, yes,” she gasped, cumming hard against the glass, her juices slicking the window.
The workers laughed, giving her thumbs up as she rode out the aftershocks. But they weren’t done. The stocky one taped the paper to the outside of the window, right at eye level, so anyone glancing up from the street or nearby buildings could see it—and her. Elena’s dread escalated, her post-orgasm haze clearing just enough to realize the permanence. People could identify her now. Her career, her reputation—flashed through her mind, but the vibrator didn’t stop, already stirring her anew.
Then, the tall one pulled out his phone, angling it toward her. He tapped the screen, and she saw the red “LIVE” indicator flash on. He was streaming her—naked, chained, named, still trembling from her climax. The stocky one joined in, zooming in on her face, her breasts, the toy between her legs. They turned the phone around, pressing it to the glass so she could see the screen: a live feed on what looked like a popular adult social media site, viewer count already climbing—10, 20, 50. Comments flooded in: “Hot slut!” “Who’s Elena Thompson?” “Share the link!”
Terror gripped her, absolute dread making her knees weak—if they weren’t already chained. This was viral, permanent, her face and name broadcast to the world. But the exposure, the utter humiliation, ignited something primal. The vibrator’s low buzz, combined with the sight of herself live, pushed her over the edge again. “Please… no… ahhh!” she cried, her body convulsing in a second, more intense orgasm, squirting against the glass as the stream captured every twitch, every moan. The workers cheered, the viewer count hitting 200, her dread and ecstasy blending into one overwhelming rush.
As the platform continued its descent, leaving her labeled and live for the world, Elena slumped against her chains, spent yet craving more. Mark would be thrilled when he returned—his perfect idea had worked all too well.
As the window washers’ platform hovered just below her floor, still capturing every quiver of Elena’s body on their live stream, the tall one—let’s call him Jake—grinned wickedly at his partner, Rico. “This is gold, man, but we can make it even better. Hold the camera steady.” He pulled out his phone again, dialing a familiar number. “Hey, babe? Yeah, it’s me. You won’t believe what we’re seeing up here on the 45th. This chick’s chained naked to the window, vibing herself silly. Name’s Elena Thompson—suite 4507. Think you can pop in and… spice things up? Make her squirm extra for the viewers. Love you, hurry.”
Rico kept the stream going, the viewer count skyrocketing past 500 now, comments pouring in like “Turn it up!” and “Who is she really?” Elena, still chained facing the glass, could only hear the muffled voices outside, her body slick with sweat and release, the low buzz of the vibrator teasing her back to the brink. Dread gnawed at her—what were they planning? But the humiliation fueled her, her hips grinding subtly against the toy, arousal rebuilding despite the fear.
Minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow, until Elena heard the door to the suite click open behind her. Footsteps—soft, deliberate—approached, but with her back to the room and arms stretched wide, she couldn’t turn, couldn’t see who it was. A woman’s voice, low and teasing, murmured, “Well, well, Mrs. Thompson. Looks like you’re having quite the afternoon.” Elena’s blood ran cold. Room service? How did she know her name? The dread spiked, her pulse thundering as invisible hands—gloved, perhaps, to stay anonymous—brushed her sides.
First came the clothespins. Sharp, biting clamps snapped onto her already sensitive nipples, one after the other, sending jolts of pain-laced pleasure straight to her core. Elena yelped, arching against the chains, the pins tugging with every breath. “Please… who are you? Stop!” she begged, but her voice cracked with unwanted moans. The woman ignored her, fingers deftly adjusting the straps around the vibrator, pulling them tighter, forcing the buzzing head to nestle fully against her swollen clit, no escape from the relentless pressure.
Then, with a cruel twist of the dial—hidden from Elena’s view—the vibrator roared to life on maximum speed. The sudden intensity hit like a freight train. Elena’s world shattered; her body convulsed, screams echoing off the glass as wave after wave of overwhelming stimulation tore through her. “Oh god, no—too much! I can’t—ahhh!” She thrashed in her bonds, the chains rattling, her juices squirting in forceful arcs against the window, smearing the view for the washers outside. Orgasm after orgasm ripped from her, no respite, her mind fracturing into pure, animalistic ecstasy mixed with terror. She lost count—three? Four?—each one building on the last, her nipples throbbing under the pins, her clit on fire from the maxed-out vibrations.
Outside, Jake and Rico whooped, their phones capturing every detail—the way her body bucked, the fluids streaking the glass, the name “ELENA THOMPSON” still taped prominently. The stream exploded, viewers hitting 1,000, donations pinging in. “Holy shit, babe’s killing it!” Jake laughed into his phone, though his girlfriend had already hung up.
Inside, the mysterious maid—Jake’s girlfriend, staying hidden in the shadows—rummaged through Elena’s purse on the nearby table. She found what she wanted: Elena’s driver’s license, complete with photo, address, and full details. With a smirk Elena couldn’t see, she taped it flat to the inside of the window, right next to Elena’s face, so the washers’ cameras could zoom in on it clearly. Now the world had her full identity—face, name, even her home state. Elena glimpsed it in her haze, her eyes widening in absolute horror. “No… that’s my ID… please, take it down!” But another climax claimed her, her pleas dissolving into guttural cries.
Satisfied, the girlfriend slipped out silently, locking the door behind her, her face never revealed. Jake and Rico, grinning like devils, gave Elena a final wave before lowering their platform out of sight, leaving the stream running on auto—perhaps linked to a loop or handed off to viewers. Elena hung there, utterly spent, the vibrator still screaming on high, the pins pinching, her most private details exposed to the city and the internet. Dread and arousal warred within her, but as another orgasm built, she knew she’d crave the memory forever. Mark had no idea what he’d unleashed.
Alone in the suite, the door clicking shut behind the anonymous maid, Elena sagged against her chains, the suction cups holding firm to the glass. The room lights blazed on—every lamp, every overhead fixture—flooding the space with harsh, unforgiving brightness. It turned the window into a stage, her naked body spotlit for anyone in the towering buildings across the way, their offices and apartments flickering to life as the afternoon wore on. The vibrator, now cranked to its merciless maximum, thrummed against her clit without pity, the straps cinched so tight it felt fused to her skin. The clothespins on her nipples dug in like teeth, each heartbeat sending fresh stabs of pain.
At first, the overstimulation was a twisted bliss, her body still riding the high from the forced orgasms. “Fuck… too much, but… good,” she whimpered, her hips jerking involuntarily as another climax built, fast and furious. She came again, hard, her screams bouncing off the walls, fluids splattering the glass in obscene patterns. But there was no off switch, no reprieve. The vibrations didn’t pause; they assaulted her swollen, hypersensitive nerves, turning pleasure into torment. What had been ecstasy morphed into agony—her clit throbbing like a raw wound, every buzz a needle prick amplified a thousandfold. “Stop… please, make it stop!” she sobbed, but the empty room swallowed her pleas.
Hours blurred into an eternity of suffering. The sun dipped low, painting the city in golden hues, then surrendered to twilight. Elena’s world narrowed to the fire between her legs, the relentless hum driving her mad. Orgasms came unbidden now, not waves of release but convulsions of pain, her body betraying her with forced peaks that left her weaker each time. Sweat poured down her skin, mixing with tears and drool, her throat raw from crying out. The ID card taped beside her face mocked her, a beacon of her exposure—name, photo, address—all there for prying eyes. As dusk deepened, the adjacent skyscrapers lit up like Christmas trees, windows glowing with life. She imagined office workers glancing over, spotting the lit-up suite, zooming in with phones or binoculars. “They’re watching… they see me breaking,” she thought, dread fueling a fresh, unwanted surge of arousal that only intensified the overstimulation.
Night fell fully, the city a glittering expanse below. Her room shone like a lighthouse, drawing eyes from every direction. Passersby on the streets far below might look up and wonder at the figure chained to the glass, writhing in silent agony. Elena lost track of time, her mind fracturing under the assault—pleasure and pain indistinguishable, her clit numb yet screaming, nipples inflamed under the pins. She begged the empty air, hallucinating shadows in the buildings opposite, convinced crowds were gathering to witness her degradation. Another orgasm ripped through her, this one dry and excruciating, her body heaving as if electrocuted.
Close to midnight, the door finally opened. Mark stepped in, his suit rumpled from the long day, a knowing smile curling his lips as he took in the scene—his wife, shattered and glistening, the window smeared with evidence of her ordeal. “My god, Elena… you look exquisite,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He approached slowly, savoring her whimpers, first removing the clothespins with deliberate tugs that made her scream anew as blood rushed back. Then, he peeled away the straps, switching off the vibrator at last, eliciting a guttural moan of relief from her. The chains came next, his hands gentle as he lowered her trembling form to the floor, wrapping her in a robe.
“You survived, love. And from what I hear, the internet’s buzzing about you.” He chuckled, showing her his phone—clips of the stream circulating, her name trending in dark corners of the web. Elena collapsed into his arms, exhausted, humiliated, yet a spark of thrill lingered. The agony was over, but the memory would fuel their nights for years.
Part 2 is here: https://www.tumblr.com/tanjagoonette/808529138099126272/continued-from-the-story-in-my-previous-post-read
Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your
Story written with some help of grok ai, as English is not my first language.
You are a goon girl. You’re an edge puppet. You obey your clit because you’re a slave to it. Your clit tells you when you should rub her. When you should squeeze her, when you should grind her against something. You listen because she owns you, and you love her control. She makes you wet, and tells you when to touch; when to rub and rub and rub until your scent fills the air, until the smell of your pussy in the room makes you want to touch again.
You rub until you’re late to meet friends
You rub until you lose sleep
You rub until you miss meals
You rub at home in bed, when you can get comfortable and enjoy yourself
You rub at work when you get too achey and need the touch
She makes you do all of this, and you love her for it.
Miss Tanja and I have been talking and she convinced me to give the inflatable mattress another try. As a result last night I humped and ground my pair of inflatable mattresses until I had a ruined orgasm. The lube on the slick rubber surface is really low friction and the air mattresses don't allow strong contact, making it a frustratingly slow humping experience even with me having some very blue balls beforehand.
I think we have ticked off a few points from above.
Miss Tanja loving when good boys hump for her✅
Good boy had a humiliating cum (and ruined too)✅
Miss Tanja working on her Domme side✅
Based on this post and the comments I'm not the first man in her stable✅
I'm currently denied until Feb 7 (at least)✅
I'm thinking of trying it again, does that make me a beta boy✅?
Of course part of the reason I'm thinking about trying it again is an unwise promise from Tanja.
Cursed vibrator that edges you for hours, unable to climax so you just keep getting hornier as you use it.
You finally cum and life goes back to normal, but you feel a pull to use the toy again. At first you resist the urge, afraid of what happened last time happening again.
But it just felt so good. Eventually the need to pleasure yourself again becomes too strong and you give in.
This time it edges you for even longer.
It's the same story every time. You edge, you finally cum, you regain some self control, but only for a while. The toy edges you for longer and longer every time you use it, and the breaks where you resist its influence get shorter and shorter.
Eventually there won't be a break. You'll just be a mindless edging mess, unable to stop, unable to resist. The toy controls you now.
Alyssa was once a normal girl like you. She didn’t have a boyfriend, she was kinky but not TOO kinky. She wanted a dom, and she liked to be teased. But long term denial was not for her.
Or so she thought.
She was reading erotica at her favorite book store on a lovely Saturday, something she routinely did, too embarrassed to buy those kinds of books so she would read them on the window seat hiding their covers from the world. The owner didn’t mind that she read books she didn’t buy there, she spent hundreds in that shop anyways. She was reading her favorite kind of erotica, one with long term edging and denial, chastity belts, and a sexy dom. She thought it was odd when a new shipment of erotica had come in, because she didn’t think anyone had bought anything off this shelf for years, but she enjoyed the new books more. They were kinkier, got her more hot and bothered. But she didn’t want to be denied like that.
Or so she thought.
Another one of the regulars was there, a large handsome man she had noticed before but she always went back to reading and forgot about him. But he had been watching her. He was a regular because of her. He came every Saturday to see what erotica she was reading this week. He started bringing his own darker collection and shelving it as if it belonged to the store, and was pleased to see her read them. And reread them. Abandon the mostly vanilla erotica for them. And he decided it was time to make his move.
He walked over to her. “Hi, my name is Ben. I see you're reading my book. Do you enjoy it?” He knew she did. This was her fourth or fifth time reading this particular book.
She blushed up a storm. She thought she hid the book cover well enough but apparently she hasn’t. “You wrote it?” She asked.
He laughed. “No I’m not an author. Check the front cover.”
She did and there was his name. Ben. She was confused. Why was his book in a bookstore? She started to ask, “why-”
He interrupted her. “I put it here for you, with the others,” he gestured to the new books on the shelf. “I’ve had my eye on you. Can I take you out for dinner?”
She should have been creeped out. She knew she should have been creeped out. He had been watching her. He had been watching her for MONTHS she realized. But she was flattered.
She went out to lunch with him. He took her to a small hole in the wall place that was packed with people and noisy. He swore they had the best po boys outside of New Orleans. Over dinner he asked her a bit about herself and told her about himself. He had been a dom almost his whole life, and was recovering from a gambling addiction. She told him that she didn’t think she was into long term denial. She just wanted to be teased a little before she came, that’s all.
“Is it though?” He had asked. “Have you ever tried being denied for three days or longer?”
She admitted that she hadn’t. Once or twice she edged and spent the night horny only to wake up and come the next morning.
“How can you say you don’t want it when you’ve never tried it?” He asked. “It obviously turns you on. You can’t deny that.”
She couldn’t.
He asked how horny she was now. She was incredibly horny. She had been reading her favorite erotica, in public, unable to touch, then she went to lunch with this handsome stranger. Who was talking about her kinks and quite frankly turning her on.
He handed her a lush. Her eyes widened. First of all, they were strangers. Second of all, had he planned this with her? Or did he just carry one around in his pocket all the time. Third, she knew these were expensive. She’s looked into getting one but for the same reason she didn’t buy the books, she was too embarrassed to get one.
She looked at him shocked. He smiled. “Go put it in. I know you want to.” Her mouth opened. “Oh I don’t think you want to put it in your pretty mouth,” he teased. “How about you go use the restroom?”
She did as he said, shocked at what was happening, at him, at herself. It took her awhile to put it in, but she did. She walked out with a huge smile on her face, dripping wet with anticipation.
She was halfway across the restaurant when he turned it on. She jerked but kept walking as normally as she could, making him laugh. Their food was on the table, and he had waited for her to come back to start. As they atre he teased her. At first lightly but then he started bringing her to the edge, and stopping. She needed to come so badly she didn’t know how he could possibly know when she edged. She tried to hide it, but he still knew. Somehow she managed to finish her sandwich but he had gotten a larger one and was taking his time. She didn’t mind though, she was lost in the sensations. Then he brought her to the edge and instead of stopping it he continued, but at a lower intensity. When she lost the edge almost immediately he bounced back up and made her edge again, then went down in intensity, doing this over and over until she was edging at the lower intensity. He kept lowering the intensity she edged at, but then finally stopped it as he finished his sandwich, ignoring her begging. And she was begging. Desperately. She needed to come. He finally finished his sandwich and got up to pay taking her hand and bringing her with him to the counter. As he paid, he hit a button and put her on a medium low vibration. She was so aroused it wouldn’t take much to get her over the edge but she just didn’t have enough simulation.
He took her hand again and led her out onto the street and walked her to another shop, a bdsm shop she’d seen but never even peaked at. He had left the vibration on, but he turned it off, stopping in front of the store.
“We are going to get you a chastity belt. I don’t want you touching my property when I’m not there to supervise you. If you don’t want to be my sub, say alligator. If you want this, if you want me, if you want to be frustrated within an inch of your life, look me in the eyes and say you will submit.”
She looked him dead in the eyes. She was afraid but so turned on. She realized then she wanted to be denied. She wanted to be his. She already thought she could fall in love with this man. “I will submit.” She said.
They went into the shop. He took her straight to the back where it said employees only, but when they went back there she saw that it was more store just stuff that was more expensive and specialty.
He brought her over to the chastity corner and found a belt he liked. He pulled her skirt off and found that she had no underwear one. “You didn’t think to tell me you were going commando?” He asked. She told him she didn’t want him to think she was a slut. He grinned. “Don’t worry. When you're in a chastity belt no one can think that, obviously you only have room in your life for your keyholder.”
He put on the chastity belt, not even bothering to take the lush out, and locked her in. He had her walk around the room, do some squats, pick things off the floor, the whole time asking if anything was hurting her and if it felt comfortable. He slipped her skirt back on and checked to make sure it could be hidden fairly easily. Then he took her hand again and said it was time to check out.
She stopped dead in her tracks. “Aren't you going to take it off?”
“Nope!” He said with a grin.
“But-”
“You’re staying in until our next date. Don’t worry I’ll edge you some more before then.”
She mumbled under his breath which he grinned at her for but she finally started moving towards the front of the store again.
He told the clerk he wanted to buy the chastity belt and gave the clerk a number. The clerk looked a little confused looking around for the box, but then he noticed Alyssa studying the carpet, made an “ah” noise, and rang Ben up.
He paid and before they left the store he gave Alyssa his number. She put it into his phone. He walked her home, came inside and poured her a glass of water. He didn’t want to leave her when she was in subspace, so they sat on the couch together and talked about life.
They planned a date for tomorrow at noon, although she was really pushing for a dinner date today. She wanted that belt off and she wanted to cum. He told her she wouldn’t be cumming for three more days. She was upset at first but then realized it was what she wanted. She realized she would have been disappointed if he let her cum just then, how messed up was that?
He left her soon after, grinning ear to ear and more excited then he’d ever been.
Chapter 2: Gambling
Unfortunately changes, even good ones, can trigger an addiction. As he walked past the bdsm store again on his way to his car, he saw the corporate owner, Annie, a dominatrix herself, and a new friend of his, closing up for the day and stopped to talk. It was weird for the shop to close so early he thought, and he wanted to know what was going on. He had only met her twice, but he knew she owned a chain of sex stores though. She knew about the girl he had been hunting and he couldn’t wait to tell her what had happened.
Apparently there was a huge underground poker game going on and her entire staff including her wanted to go, and so she had no one to run the shop. She asked if he wanted in and he declined reminding her he was a recovering addict. She tisked and said there was no harm in gambling, but he told her he had lost enough money, thank you. She asked if he would come and watch then, and he said it wouldn’t be a good idea. Finally she begged him to walk her there because she didn’t want to walk alone with 10,000 dollars on her person.
He couldn’t argue with that, and agreed to walk her there. By the time they got to the rented building it was taking place in they were deep in conversation about his new sub. He was so excited he had finally snared her and was excited to teach her everything about denial, and was so caught up in talking he didn’t stay outside like he had intended and instead went inside. By the time they had finished talking about his new sub, they had been watching poker games for about thirty minutes.
He started to excuse himself saying it had been nice talking but he really had to go. She stopped him and said, “I’ve given all my employees a bonus of $100 to play tonight. I might as well give you $100, once you lose it all, then you can go.”
He knew he shouldn’t have. But he took the bill and he sat down at a table. The dealer eagerly dealt him in the next round and the game was on. Ben won the round, ending up with a total of $175, only having bet $15. He felt the rush of gambling and didn’t stop. He won some and he lost some but he kept winning more than he lost. At $500 he moved up a table. Again he won some and he lost some, he wasn’t doing as well as he had been at the newb table, but he was still up in money and he decided to move up a table again, sitting next to Annie.
He started losing, and soon had gambled away all of his chips. He was sad because he wanted to keep playing and trying really hard to stop, he definitely didn’t want to use any of his own money after he had just finished paying off his debts. But Annie slid some chips across the table with a wink and a smile.
“With the way you were winning earlier, you will make it up to me in no time!” She told him. She kept slipping some of her chips into his pile, and the record keeper for the table kept count of how much she lent. He didn’t. He lost big. The games had started at 5pm but before he knew it it was 2 am. He was tired and needed to go home. He stood up, and Annie stood up too. He was out of chips again, and knew he owed her money. He asked how much he owed her and Annie looked to the record keeper.
“He owes you $38,073, Madam,” The woman said.
Bens jaw dropped. He didn’t have that kind of money. He couldn’t produce that kind of money. He was living in an apartment, and his car was only worth about 10,000. He had another 4,000 in savings, but that was all. He made a lot of money but he had squandered it all gambling already and was starting over. He had just finished paying off all his debts. He started begging Annie. Telling her he could pay it back one thousand dollars a month. But he didn’t have the money to pay her.
She said no. He couldn’t believe it. Annie was his friend. He asked how much she needed right now and he would get her the rest as soon as he could.
She said she didn’t need any of it, but he had two choices. He could pay it in full then and there, or he could give her Alyssa’s chastity keys.
He cried. He begged. He said he was head over heels in love with her. He tried to leave without paying, but a big beefy security man stopped him. In the end, he gave Annie Alyssa’s keys.
Ben sent Alyssa a single text. “I’m so sorry baby girl.” But obviously Ben cared more about himself. He had just sold her into slavery after all. Ben knew what he had done. He wondered if Annie had done it deliberately, but he would never know. He blocked Alyssa's number, packed his bags and left by morning. He didn’t want to face what he had done.
For Alyssa though, there was no way out. Sunday morning she saw his text and was concerned. She sent him nearly a hundred texts, which he never responded to. She went to where they planned their date, hoping he would explain. But the only person she saw was a woman. The woman approached her and explained her name was Annie. That Ben had been out gambling last night and had spent more than he had. That he had sold her chastity keys for over 38 thousand dollars. And now she was to work to pay off his debt. She would start Monday morning. She didn’t have to come, but the belt would never come off without the keys. It was made of titanium.
Chapter 3: Orientation
Monday
It looked like a typical office building. It was huge. She went inside and saw a receptionist in front of the elevators. There were gates to prevent people from entering without a badge. She walked to the front desk. “Hi, I don’t know where to go. I’m Alyssa.”
The receptionist nodded and pressed a button on her panel. “Annie, Alyssa is here for her orientation.” Through the panel Alyssa heard Annie’s voice say “Wonderful. I will be right down. Give her her ID card.” The receptionist handed her an ID card. Alyssa looked at it. It had her full name and a photo of her on it, height, hair color, date she was belted (was it only two days ago?), an ID number, and some generic company information with a QR code.
She was still analyzing the card when Annie came out of the elevator. “Swipe your card and come on, we haven’t got all day. We will do the tour first, then show you the ropes. The figurative ones that is.” She grinned at Alyssa, as if Alyssa was not her slave.
They took the elevator to the first floor. In the elevator car Annie explained, “We don’t have stairs. We don’t need to make it easy for anyone to run away. The elevators only work if your card has access. Yours doesn’t. It very likely won’t for a long time, if ever.”
The first floor was a ginormous cafeteria and kitchen. Annie continued talking as they walked around. The cafeteria was entirely spotless. “We serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. It’s part of your wages.” They entered the kitchen. 30 women were hurrying around cooking. “This is the kitchen. If you're not good at any of our other positions, or if you enjoy cooking more, this is the place for you. Our cooks have a special enhancement to their belts, that edge them for an hour after each meal is served, and while charging. They are only removed for cleaning. The maids are this way too, only they get an hour of edging after a supervisor declares a room clean. Other than me, all employees of my company wear belts. Some are here of their own free will. Most, like you, are paying off a debt.”
They had fully explored the kitchen by now. They headed back to the elevators. Annie had gone back to talking “Unlike any other business, you do not have to show up every day. You do not have to show up at all if you don’t want to. Your belt will, of course, stay on. It is not removable without the keys. Here it will be removed for cleaning and edging purposes. If you do choose not to work, but you want it cleaned we are happy to do that for you as well. If you work with us more than three days a week on average, you are free to live on the first floor in the dorms. The beds are very comfortable, there are two people in a room, and we have common areas with TVs, couches, and entertainment equipment.”
They got to the second floor. Here there were a handful of people wandering around, but most were tied down to their chairs. Annie kept explaining how everything worked. “They are strapped into the chairs. You can’t see it but inside each girl is a dildo. As they answer calls, respond to emails, ect. they get mild stimulation. As they reach their daily goals, they get ten minutes of edging per goal. If they reach down to touch their clit, the supervisor hits a button that sends a shock to their collar and turns the dildo off for the rest of the day. They continue to revive shocks every time they reach down to their clit. At first the employees would stop working after being shocked, because they had no reason to reach their goals, so a new program was started. If a shocked slave does not meet every single daily goal, by the end of the day the dildo inside her will shock her randomly while everyone else was removed from their chairs. They will be the last person removed. If they need to use the restroom they are escorted. Some of the girls do accounting, some do purchases, some manage inventory, some work on designing new sex toys, some work on the ads, or the website. The supervisors themselves are locked in belts. They do not have edging during the day, but they are tied up and edged a for a total of 8 hours at least each week.”
They had finished exploring the third floor. “Upstairs are the offices of the Vice Presidents, the board, all belted, as well as a floor identical to this one so that we can send each floor to lunch at the same time. You probably won’t ever see any of it. Now it is time for you to choose a job. We will show you the ropes of whatever you choose, but remember your pleasure comes directly from your preference, so if you pick something you're good at you will be rewarded.”
Annie took Alyssa to a small office on the third floor to talk about the logistics of the job. “The company is open 7 days a week, from 9am to 8pm. If you are working an office job, you may work any hours you please. It is the only time you will get stimulation. If you are a maid or a cook, you will get edged after your tasks are complete, and when you charge your belt.”
Chapter 4: Accounting
“It’s time to pick your job. You may change it if you would like to later, if you don’t know how to do your chosen job we will train you, but until you are able to do your job well you will get little to no stimulation.”
Alyssa thought for half a second, then said, “Accounting!” Her day job was accounting. She figured that way she could at least get some stimulation. It had only been three days but she was desperate.
Annie did some typing, Alyssa couldn’t see the screen and had no clue what she was doing. “I see you have plenty of experience in that field,” Annie said, “good choice.”
She hit a button and paged the accounting manager in. A few minutes later a tall blonde wearing nothing but six inch heels, a sexy corset, and her chastity belt walked in.
“Alyssa, Hannah. Hanna, Alyssa.” Annie said, making a fast, no nonsense introduction. “Hannah, she has chosen your department, she has about 5 years of experience so just keep an eye on her, but she should know what to do.” Annie handed Hannah a key, which Hannah added to her key ring. To Alyssa, Annie said “Enjoy your first day!”
Hannah took her to the elevator. “Try using your badge to operate the elevator.” She told Alyssa.
“Oh, Annie said mine won’t work.” Alyssa responded.
Hannah laughed. “I know yours won’t work but I still want you to try it. That way you don’t run for the elevator the second I unlock your belt.”
So Alyssa tried it and sure enough all it did was beep at her.
Alyssa was slightly concerned there would be all kinds of weird things on the books she wouldn’t recognize. This was a sex toy company, surely the work was different from her day job.
But Hannah took her to the accounting cubicles. “Unless you work three days a week or more, you won’t have your own cubicle. We have plenty of temp desks, and of course the dildos and chairs are completely sanitized every night.”
She led her to a cubicle right outside an office with a name plate that said Hannah on it. “Lift your skirts honey, let’s get that belt off of you.” Hannah said.
Alyssa was torn between wanting that belt off and wanting to run screaming from the building. These people were insane! But… she understood why she was here.
She was here because the man she thought was amazing turned out to be a slimeball who sold her to pay off some gambling debts. She was here because she had tried all night to get the belt off, watched lock picking YouTube videos, tried cutting the lock with bolt cutters, and a dremel tool. Nothing worked. She was here because she was used to cumming every night, and hadn’t since Friday. She was here because she was horny as hell and was hoping they would let her cum.
So she lifted her skirts. Hannah had the lock open in two seconds. She removed the belt and Alyssa’s hand went straight to her clit. She started rubbing her clit, holding her skirt up for access, in the middle of an office building. She couldn’t believe herself. Hannah just raised an eyebrow at her, then left her, taking the chastity belt into the office and hanging it on a hook on the wall. Then she walked calmly back out and grabbed both alyssa's wrists.
“Do I need to set your dildo to shocks on your first day?” Hannah asked.
“No!” Alyssa said loudly, causing more looks then she did rubbing her clit in full view of everyone.
“Then don’t touch your clit. If you can’t help it, we can install a clit shield so your naughty fingers won’t get you into trouble.”
Alyssa didn’t know what a clit shield was, but she didn’t want them to have more control over her then they already had. She shook her head.
“Good girl,” Hanna said. “Now,” she pulled out the rolling office chair from the cubical a few feet. “Sit.”
That should have been an easy enough order, but Alyssa had never sat on a chair with a dildo protruding from it. She slowly sat on it, letting it fill her rarely used pussy. When she got herself off at home she just used her fingers, or her $10 Walmart vibrater on her clit. She had a dildo but it felt too naughty to use it on most nights. As soon as she was seated she felt it vibrate a little inside her. It felt good, but not nearly as good as touching her clit.
On either end of the chair were seat belt straps, which Hannah pulled over her lap, buckled, and tightened so that Alyssa couldn’t move. Alyssa noticed that the seat belt had a keyhole, and realized she wouldn’t be able to get up without help. She pushed Alyssa into her cubicle, and Alyssa used her feet to turn around to face the computer. On the left side of the desk where three buttons, they looked like a traffic light, a red button above a yellow button above a green button.
Hannah noticed what she was looking at. “The green button is for work questions, if you press it I will come and help. The yellow is if you need to use the restroom. One of the hall monitors,” she gestured to the people wandering about in chastity belts whom Annie had called supervisors, “will unlock your seatbelt and watch as you use the restroom. If you touch there they will set your seat to shock. The red button is to let me know you wish to be done for the day. We do require that you be at a stopping point, not in the middle of something, unless it is closing time. You can be done at any point, but if you finish all your tasks, you can just edge for an hour, or until we close, whichever is shorter.” Alyssas ears perked up. Annie hadn’t told her that.
Hannah continued, “Since it is your first day you only have five tasks. Mostly stuff to familiarize yourself with our employee portal. You’ve already been given an employee number, it’s on your badge. That will be your login. once you put it into the username spot it will have you create a password and walk you through the basic tasks everyone gets on their first day, and when you’re done with that I should have it set up so that it walks you through the basic tasks for accounting.”
Hannah left, walking into her office and sitting down. Alyssa noticed she still had her chastity belt on, so there must not have been a dildo in that chair. Or there was and it went… Alyssa stopped that thought. She didn’t want to know.
Chapter 5: First Day of Work
Alyssa faced her computer and unclipped her badge from her blouse. She saw employee number: 074952. She wondered if she was really the 74,952th employee or if it was just a random number. The computer asked her to pick a password and confirm it, as computers do.
As soon as she did, the dildo inside her started vibrating, then thrusting in and out! She had no clue it would do that! She quickly started to edge after about a minute of it, but she could never come from vaginal stimulation. It felt incredible. She wished something, anything would touch her clit but the threat of being shocked over and over, and the fact a “hall monitor” was standing right over her shoulder watching her as she edged, made her keep her hands where the supervisor could see them. As time went on the dildo thrust faster and a tear fell as she edged. It was so much she was so close but orgasm was nowhere in sight. It started to slow down, and she tried to bounce on it a little only to find the seat belt stopped her. Eventually it stopped completely and the vibrations slowly turned down as well, until they faded into nothing.
She wanted it back. She looked at her computer screen. There was a big link on the homepage that said “TASKS”. Perfect. She clicked it. She was desperate for more.
It was a little checklist, with five items on it.
Take a tour of the financial dashboard (link)
Open accounts payable, familiarize yourself with it
Open accounts receivable, familiarize yourself with it
Open the journal, pay one of the accounts payable and make an entry
Open the franchise and store spreadsheets, and familiarize yourself with them.
It seemed pretty standard, about the same things she did when she just got hired at her current job. She clicked the link in the first item on her to do list, and found it was a two hour interactive video. It showed her how to access the financial dashboard from her home screen, then had her do it. It showed her how to access accounts payable, accounts receivable, the spreadsheets for the journal, the franchise and store spreadsheets, where to prepare tax documents, and where to compare trends. After each informational segment, it would have her go through the motions of opening it herself. It wasn’t just how to access it but also the standard operating procedure for each.
It was pretty standard stuff. After a while she completely forgot about the dildo in her pussy and was focused on her work. Until she finished the video, and it sprung to life. Starting slowly, with no vibrations, it withdrew from her pussy until only the head remained inside, then slowly pushed back in. It continued slowly fucking her for about ten thrusts making her want more, but then it started speeding up bringing her to the edge. It continued thrusting into her pussy but she had never come without her clit before. She knew it was possible though. She hoped against all hope she would come. It kept thrusting, a machine that didn’t need to stop. She had her mouth open. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck…” she chanted. It went on and on and on. Her hands were clenching and unclenching. She wanted to reach down and touch her clit but yet again a hall monitor was standing over her shoulder.
Then the dildo stopped moving altogether. It was just buried in her pussy. She beat her fist on the table. She tried to fuck it herself, tried to lift her body up only to go nowhere. Tears of frustration leaked out of her. She was SOOOO close. She thought if only it had given her 30 more seconds she could have come, but she knew that wasn’t true. She had plateaued about two minutes in, not getting any closer to orgasm but not getting farther away either.
She looked back at her computer. She wanted more. She desperately wanted more. She remembered her next task was to “familiarize” herself with accounts payable. That was easy. She had already opened it and been told the SOP for paying a bill. She figured that was pretty familiar. So all she needed to do was open it and close it and it would start again.
She opened it. She closed it. And she waited. And waited. Nothing happened. She hit the green button.
A minute or so later Hannah came out of the office and headed straight for her desk. “What do you need help with?” She asked.
“My chair is broken. I finished a task and it didn’t do anything.”
Hannah raised an eyebrow. “You’re here to work. The chair just rewards you for work. I guarantee you the chair isn’t broken, you just didn’t work.” Hannah reached over Alyssa and clicked the large TASKS link. There was a checkmark on the first item of the list, take a tour of the financial dashboard, but not on anything else.
“But I am familiar with the accounts payable! I know the SOP, I know how to access it, how to search it for specific bills or for types of bills, why is it incomplete?” Alyssa said, wanting to yell. She was so frustrated.
“But you didn’t do any work, therefore, no reward. Try paying a bill, and remember to record in the journal you paid it, how much the bill was for, and all the other relevant details.” Hannah told her.
Hannah continued to stand over her as Alyssa opened accounts payable, paid the first bill that was due, opened the journal, and recorded the payment, who was paid, how much, for what kind of service. Immediately, her dildo started vibrating inside her, bringing her to the edge in seconds. She moaned, her eyes closed, and she stopped paying attention to the world around her.
“I see your chair works now,” Hannah said with a laugh, but Alyssa didn’t notice. She didn’t notice when Hannah left and went back to her office, or that a hall monitor had replaced her, watching to make sure she didn’t touch herself. As the vibration went on Alyssa road the edge, never getting close enough to come, never backing away from the precipice.
Before her dildo had stopped vibrating though, Hannah had come back, unbuckled her seat belt, and yanked her off the dildo.
“What are you doing?” Alyssa asked, shocked, “I still have time. Look! It’s still going! Put me back!!!”
Hannah laughed. She loved when lunch came when someone was enjoying one of their ten minute edging breaks. Protocol dictated that they would be unseatbelted first, only to be rebelted into their chastity belt. “Lunch time!” She sang, as she pulled Alyssa's skirt down. Within seconds, she had Alyssa’s chastity belt on, and locked it.
Alyssa followed her as Hannah returned to her office, grabbing another chastity belt off the hooks. She followed her to another cubicle, where Hannah unlocked one of her coworkers, who stood up and pulled down her own skirt. Hannah again had the belt on and locked in less than twenty seconds. She was really good at that, Alyssa thought, she must have a lot of practice.
Hannah left for her office again, but this time Alyssa didn’t follow her.
“Hey,” Alyssa said to this new woman, “I’m Alyssa.”
The woman looked her up and down. “First day?” She asked.
“Yeah it is, what’s your name? How long have you, um, worked here? Is worked the right word?” Alyssa asked.
“My name is Charlie. Work… I guess I work here. I live here. I eat here. I work to earn my keep. I work to edge.”
“Oh you live here? Annie told me I could do that, but I’m not going to. I only came because I thought I would get rid of this belt, I’m not planning on coming back.”
Charlie burst out laughing so loudly, people turned their heads to look. “Oh honey,” she said once she stopped laughing, “That belt isn’t coming off. The only way to get it off is to work off your debt, but usually by that time, people want to stay. And you will come back. Everyone says they won’t. Everyone does.”
Alyssa had more questions now. And it occurred to her Annie had never told her how much she was working off an hour. She really needed to know. Wait, no she didn’t. It wasn’t her debt. And she wasn’t coming back.
“How…” Alyssa started to say but Hannah interrupted her.
“ACCOUNTING!” She yelled. Everyone looked up from their conversations. “To the elevator!” She finished. They all headed over to one of the elevators and crowded in. Hannah did a quick head count, then hit the button for the first floor, the one that was entirely devoted to the cafeteria and kitchen.
Chapter 6: Lunch
The elevator door opened and there were already a ton of people in the cafeteria. The women headed straight for the food line, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.
Alyssa followed them, not really sure what else to do. She was right behind Charlie so she started asking questions again. “How did you start working here?”
Charlie sighed. “I borrowed money. I just wanted to get through school. I wanted to be a doctor. The terms were that I had to wear this belt, and pay it off to get the belt removed.”
“What happened? Doctors make a lot of money, why are you here?” Alyssa asked.
“After a few months I was desperate. Have you ever gone months without touching yourself? I called Annie and told her I couldn’t do it. I would find some other way to make the money but I needed to touch myself. She made a counter offer. Told me that I would only have to pay 90% of my loan after I finished school. And if I worked part time for her, for no pay, she would make sure I got all the touch I needed. So I started working customer service on Saturdays. I wasn’t paid, but that didn’t matter because I was only going to pay 10% of med school. I got edged. I never got to cum but it was better, so much better than the months of nothing.”
“So why aren't you a doctor now? Why do you live here? What happened?”
“As time went on I got addicted. I started coming to work after my classes. I worked Sundays. My grades started to drop. Eventually they dropped enough that I couldn’t get into med school after premed. At that point I had already been working here enough to live in the dorms , and I was taking all my meals here, so I moved in.”
“But you look 30, surely you have paid off your debt by now?” Alyssa asked.
Charlie laughed. “You're not supposed to know a woman’s age. But I’m 29. Sure I suppose I could have paid off my debt, but I kept buying orgasms. Annie will tell you later, when she thinks you’re desperate enough. They start at ten thousand dollars, just added on to your debt.”
Alyssa stared at her in horror. “If you paid off your debt though, you would be free! You could have as many orgasms as you want!”
“You say that now,” Charlie said. “See how you feel after months of edging, or nothing at all.”
With that warning Charlie turned around and grabbed a tray. Alyssa hadn’t noticed they were next in line. Her head was still spinning. This place was insane. Charlie seemed like a rational human being but what rational person would go into further debt, delaying the day she would get to be free, for a single orgasm. It didn’t make sense.
The woman behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Are you going to eat or just stand there?” She asked.
“Oh! Sorry!” Alyssa said, quickly grabbing a tray and walking to the buffet table. The food looked delicious! There was a very clear Mexican theme, with quesadillas, taco shells, meat, and toppings, tinfoil wrapped burritos labeled by topping, and a ton of stuff Alyssa didn’t even recognize, although one casserole looked like there were crab pinchers in it.
She grabbed a few quesadilla slices and a goat burrito. She had never had goat meat before but she figured with all the other crazy stuff she had done today, why not add another to the list.
She looked around the dining room and saw Hannah and Charlie at a table near the back wall. She headed over to sit with them, shocked at the ages and sizes of the women she was looking at.
She had always thought of kinky people as skinny, young, white girls, but there were a few pretty old ladies and loads of women in their 30-50s. No one was obese but they where not anorexicly skinny either. Some were skinny with small boobs, some were bigger with huge boobs. Not a single woman looked like a porn star. They were just normal women. If her workplace fired all the men and hired women to replace them, she thought this is exactly what it would look like.
Chapter 7: Alyssa’s mistake
A loud alarm went off before Alyssa was quite done eating, she had spent most of lunch looking around and talking to women. Dessert had been served, but as Alyssa hadn’t finished her meal, she didn’t get any yet. She looked around and saw women getting up from every table and grouping themselves into chunks. They left the dishes on the table, though each table stacked their plates and cups, and put all their silverware in the top cup.
“Alyssa!!” Hanna called from a group close to the back corner, “Over here!” She waved Alyssa her direction and Alyssa considered following her direction… but she wanted dessert and the serving tables had been abandoned by the cooks. There was no one to tell her not to take a brownie.
She walked over to the closest bar, the opposite direction of her group and grabbed two brownies. She bit into one, it was delicious. Suddenly, her hair was yanked from behind her, and pulled in pain, Alyssa moved towards her attacker but the woman, Hannah, just kept pulling her by the hair until she was back with her group. The brownies were taken from her and disappeared into Hannah’s pockets.
“You embarrassed me. In front of everyone.” Hannah hissed at her. “Worse, I could be punished for what you just did.”
Alyssa didn’t understand what the problem was. Nor did she understand why Hannah would be punished for it. But she really didn’t care too much, her head hurt after Hannah had yanked her across the dining hall, and she didn’t particularly care if Hannah got in trouble.
Their group got in the elevator, Hannah with a firm grip on Alyssa's arm. When they reached the cubicles, Hannah unlocked Alyssa’s chastity belt and forced her, none too gently, onto the dildo, clicking the seat belt into place before dealing with any of the other women.
Alyssa sighed and decided she might as well get to work. She looked at what was left on her to do list.
Take a tour of the financial dashboard (link)
Open accounts payable, familiarize yourself with it
Open accounts receivable, familiarize yourself with it
Open the journal, pay one of the accounts payable and make an entry
Open the franchise and store spreadsheets, and familiarize yourself with them.
“Alright,” Alyssa thought, “Accounts receivable. I can do this.” She opened it, scrolled through it, then closed it again. Her dildo did nothing. She sighed. Looked like she would need to do something for it to activate.
She reopened accounts receivable, clicked the soonest due payment, and sent an invoice to the franchise reminding them to pay the bill. Nothing happened. She went through, sending invoices for every bill due that week, expecting to feel something.
Nothing happened. Weird. She was supposed to be edged. “Ah well.” Alyssa thought. She looked around, and didn’t see anyone looking at her. She took her right hand off the keyboard, slipping it under the table to rub her clit.
Instantly, alarms started blaring. Four TVs she hadn’t really noticed turned on. The wheels of a hundred office chairs rolled as the women sitting in them adjusted their positions to see the tv.
Alyssa looked, and her jaw dropped. Just like a mirror, on the left hand side of all four TVs, Alyssa’s jaw dropped. On the right side, her hand rubbing her clit was on full display. Alyssa snatched her hand away from her clit, watching herself on the tv, watching herself turn tomato red.
Hannah smiled. She had hoped Alyssa would respond this way when she turned off the dildo after lunch. She wanted to get back at Alyssa for embarrassing her. Hannah quickly turned the dildo back on from her computer though, as a supervisor came over to Alyssa’s seat.
Alyssa squirmed in her chair, watching the tv, trying to figure out what angle it was from so she could block it. It wasn’t coming from either of the computer webcams, she had already checked them. She didn’t notice the supervisor.
The supervisor entered the cubicle number into her tablet, and for the heck of it decided to send a shock early, just to make the newbie jump.
Jump Alyssa did, and screech. All streamed on the big screen. Laughter came at her from all directions, but then the supervisor turned off the camera from her tablet, and the live feeds shut off.
“What’s your name girl?” The supervisor asked.
“Alyssa…” she said.
“Well Alyssa,” the supervisor said, “you should have been told that if you touch your clit you have all edge privileges stripped from you for the shift, but given the fact you where stupid enough to touch in the first place, I feel the need to tell you that if you don’t finish your assigned tasks by the end of the shift, you will have 10-20 minutes of random shocks, at your managers discretion.” The supervisor added a shock for emphasis, then strode away.
Alyssa yelled out in pain, trying to move away from the dildo, but unable to do so. It was even worse then the first one. She didn’t think she could survive 10-20 minutes of shock. She had to get her work done.
Chapter 8: A Shocking Experience
Alyssa pulled up her task list again.
Take a tour of the financial dashboard (link)
Open accounts payable, familiarize yourself with it
Open accounts receivable, familiarize yourself with it
Journal entry everything that has been paid today
Open the journal, pay one of the accounts payable and make an entry
Open the franchise and store spreadsheets, and familiarize yourself with them.
Thank goodness, she thought. Accounts payable was completed. She did have to do the journal entries for today’s payments. And franchise stuff…. She looked at the clock, 2:45. She hoped she would be done by 5.
Alyssa started work on the journal entries. It wasn’t hard work, but it took time.
It was boring, and knowing she wouldn’t get rewarded for it made her want to stop. Sure, she did the same thing at her real job, and she didn’t get edged for it, but at least she was being paid for it. The only thing that kept her going was the fear of the shock. She had already felt it twice, and had no desire to ever feel it again.
She finally finished the entries for the day, and looked at the clock. 3:30. “Good,” she thought, “Plenty of time.”
She opened the franchise page, and a long list of locations popped up. When she clicked on a location, all of their finances popped up, along with statistics on their personal best sellers, graphs of purchase activity, and more.
She looked into the spreadsheets of the first few stores on the list, learning how the franchises did their books. She found a page that compiled all the franchise information into a single spreadsheet. It was handy to know if she needed to use it but she hadn’t been given a task that used it today.
Then she checked on the store tab, and found it was very similar, list of locations to click on, details for each individually, and a page for the compiled details.
The difference being that franchises bought the products they had in stock before they sold the products, the profits were then given to the owner of the franchise to distribute to bills, employees, new stock, and their own paycheck. The stores, however, where shipped new products to sell based on what they had sold in the past, and new things the company wanted to introduce. Profits came back to corporate, who paid the bills of the stores they owned. No one at the company stores were paid, but the company did own a nice apartment complex within five blocks of all their stores, complete with a community dining hall.
Alyssa was starting to wonder how she would do taxes with all this slave labor to hide from the government, until she remembered that she wasn’t coming back, and that wasn’t her problem. She looked at the clock again. 4:30. Alyssa double checked her list, just to make sure everything was crossed out, and everything was.
“What should I do for the next thirty minutes?” Alyssa was thinking when she heard the girl one cubical over starting to get edged. She had tuned out the sounds of other women edging out while she was busy, but now that she was just twiddling her thumbs she couldn’t block it out. Soon another girl nearby was making noise.
It made sense for people to be finishing their tasks around 5. At 4:45 there were more women making noise at once then there had been at any other point in the day, and the women close to Alyssa who she had noticed first were still making noise. She pushed her chair away from her desk so she could slide out of her cubicle and look around. It seemed half the floor was being edged, other than the managers and supervisors.
Some girls had dildos moving in and out of them. Some had vibes pushed up against their clits. It looked like the people who had their own desks had customized chairs.
Hannah noticed Alyssa looking around and came out of her private office. She leaned against the wall behind Alyssa and said casually, “You know, if you had not touched your clit, you would get the end of workday edge too.”
“End of work day edge?” Alyssa thought. It made sense. No one had told her about that but at least she wouldn’t be getting 10-20 minutes of electroshock therapy. Alyssa kept looking around, not wanting to admit she was aroused by the sight of so many women held on the edge of an orgasm they were denied, but definitely turned on by it regardless.
Hannah came over to Alyssa’s chair and unlocked her, only to lock her back into chastity as well. Alyssa wanted to protest, wanted to fight but she knew there was no point. These people were too organized. Too efficient.
So she just complied. She would be free any minute now. There were now elevator operators taking the women who were standing in line down after double checking their belts. There were still plenty of people working, and some people had left long before five or didn’t come back after lunch, but it seemed half the office left around five.
Alyssa didn’t stick around. She headed over to the line and got out as soon as she could. She rushed back to her small apartment and cried. She had fallen in love, had her heart broken, and been sold into slavery in a single weekend. Her pussy had been edged, and then shocked. She was horny and wanted to rub her clit to orgasm, but couldn’t. Her vagina was still in some pain and she wanted to make it better but even if she could touch it, she didn’t know how she could make it feel better. She cried herself to sleep.
Chapter 9: Regular Life
Tuesday morning Alyssa woke up to her alarm going off, startiling her out of a sex dream. She didn’t usually get sex dreams, but she enjoyed them when they happened. She reached down to rub her clit to a quick orgasm, only to hit metal.
Her reality set in quickly. She had just assumed in those few groggy seconds that the past few days had been part of the sex dream, but the cold hard reality hit her just as hard as her hand hitting the cold, hard belt.
She groaned, half in frustration at the belt, and half at the early hour. She rolled out of bed, stumbled to the shower and cleaned herself up. She dressed in a nice, but uncomfortable, pantsuit, and found herself wanting to wear a miniskirt and tank top like she saw on some of the women yesterday, but she quickly got rid of that thought.
She put on her high heels and walked to the office. It was only 4 blocks away, so if the weather was nice she walked. As she walked, she tried to remove the horny thoughts and feelings from her mind and body, but they stubbornly remained. Unconsciously, Alyssa was swinging her hips more than she usually did, and as a result she got a few catcalls. Every time she blushed and ducked her head, and picked up speed to get away from the caller.
Once in the office, Alyssa got to work. Here too, she had a list of tasks for the day assigned by her boss. The first time she finished a task, Alyssa wondered why she wasn’t being edged, until she remembered that this was her real job. The second time, she knew she wouldn’t be edged, yet there was still a profound sense of loss. She wanted to edge herself as reward, but with the belt she wasn't able to.
By afternoon she would have done anything to bury a dildo in her pussy, and fuck herself. Walking home, she got catcalled twice more, and both times she blushed, but unlike this morning her pussy moistened. Instead of speeding up to get away, she walked slower, intentionally putting more sway in her hips. It felt good knowing these men wanted to fuck her, even if it was impossible.
Alyssa watched porn instead of tv after dinner. She’d never watched porn before, but after scrolling through Netflix and finding nothing, she googled porn hub and watched the first video that looked appealing, a woman getting railed.
She fell asleep on the couch, porn video still on. She didn’t realize it, but the autoplay feature was on as well. While she slept, her tv kept playing one video after another, filling her head with sex.
Her alarm went off in her bedroom, but she didn’t hear it. She slept in until nearly 10:30. When she woke up she freaked out, she was supposed to be at work by nine.
She threw on yet another uncomfortable pants suit, looking longingly at a pair of sweatpants. She caved and threw on a comfortable, but work appropriate skirt. She put on a pair of heels and booked it to work.
As soon as Alyssa got to work, her boss called her into his office. He was reprimanding her for showing up two hours late for work, but Alyssa wasn’t listening. She was thinking about how if it was the toy company she could have just skipped a day, how she could have continued to rest with no repercussions.
Alyssa was so incredibly horny and listening to sex all night long had only made it worse. She tried to rub at her desk, but the chastity belt blocked any pleasure she would have gotten from it. She was thinking maybe she was too quick to say she would never come back to the company…. it had only been two days and she was desperate for any form of touch.
She really really needed to cum but she knew that wasn’t an option for her right now. She did her best to push that desire out of her head by focusing on work, but it wasn’t easy to concentrate on anything except her needy pussy.
Alyssa needed something, anything. She tried rubbing her nipples through her bra and blouse, and was surprised it actually felt pleasant. She didn’t usually rub her boobs as it didn’t usually do anything. From then on though, she was rubbing her nipples or brushing them every few minutes.
The work day seemed to drag on forever. By 4:45, Alyssa had her bag packed and was ready to go, but determined to stick around until 5:00 pm so she didn’t come in late and skip out early on the same day.
Finally it was 5:00 and she left. She went home and cooked herself a nice dinner. Usually, she would watch a show while she ate. Something light and funny, or maybe a drama. Today, none of those things interested her, so she ate in silence on her couch.
Afterwards, Alyssa decided to read some erotica. She walked down to the bookstore she frequented, and grabbed one of the kinkier romances, one of the ones that had belonged to Ben. She slipped it under her jacket so no one would ask her why she was walking out with a book she hadn’t bought, hung out a little bit to be less suspicious, then left. It wasn’t stealing if it was Ben’s book and not the bookstore’s to begin with.
Alyssa read the book in bed. The irony was almost hilarious. She never touched before when reading her steamy books because she was in public. Now, after she had one of her books in private, she couldn’t touch herself because of the chastity belt. It was so frustrating. Alyssa ended up rubbing her nipples with one hand while she read, which seemed to give her some measure of relief.
At nine, Alyssa put a bookmark in the book and went to bed. She wouldn’t be late for work tomorrow.
Chapter 10:
Alyssa slept long and deep, having yet another sex dream. In this one, her ankles were cuffed to chains stretched tightly between two opposite walls, keeping her stance uncomfortably wide. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. In between her legs was a machine with a slender piston, with a dildo attached to it, inside her vagina. It was well lubed and it just kept slowly fucking her for ages. Even as it slid out, the head of the dildo never left her body, so she couldn't move off of it, even standing on her tiptoe.. As she stood, she tried to find some way to relax her body, but she couldn’t sit down, the dildo prevented that. She couldn't slide her legs closed. As she stood there she had these memories of being hunted down and captured. Of being chased by a handsome, kind looking man, but she knew that if he caught her this would happen.
Her alarm sounded, jerking her awake. Alyssa reached over and slammed the snooze button. She desperately tried to go back to sleep. She wanted to get back to that place.
The alarm sounded again, and Alyssa hit snooze again.
And again.
After three tries, Alyssa’s clock gave up.
About thirty minutes later, Alyssa glanced at the clock. 8:42. Panic set in. She couldn’t be late two days in a row. She jumped out of bed, pulled the first shirt she saw out of it, grabbed yesterday's skirt off the ground, and ran to the bathroom. She hurriedly got dressed as she peed, then brushed her teeth. She grabbed a small handful of breakfast bars, running out the door to her car. It was only a 15 minute walk, and only 5 minutes faster by car, after she dealt with traffic and parking, but when she was leaving the house at 8:48, she needed those extra minutes. As she parked at her office building, it occurred to her that she never put on a bra.
But, it was 8:57 and she couldn’t go back home to get one. She would have to suck it up and deal with it. Ugh, and her shirt choice was a thin silky shirt. She could see her nipples poking out of it, something she swore her nipples had NEVER done until this last week. It looked so lewd. But there was nothing to be done about it now. She walked as fast as she could without running into her building.
She clocked in right on time. 9:00. She used to be 5-10 minutes early every single day. Would her coworkers notice? What did they think? Did they see her nipples sticking out? She was terrified her boss would talk to her again today, because of her nipples. They certainly where not work appropriate.
Thankfully the day passed without incident, she kept her head down doing her work and no one bothered her.
Alyssa settled into her new routine, reading smut every night, making the ache between her legs worse and worse, then getting up the next morning and having to function at work. She was tired, but more importantly she was horny. She needed to feel something, anything.
On Friday, Alyssa decided she had to go back to the company. She had to work another shift. She couldn’t take it any longer. She had to feel something. She would go back Saturday.
Chapter 11:
Friday night, Alyssa was so so tired. Usually she recovered on the weekends, but last weekend had been an emotional roller coaster and this Saturday she would be working AGAIN for the company. She wouldn’t even be paid.
But she wouldn’t have to cook tomorrow. And she would finally FINALLY get some stimulation on her poor pussy. It would be worth it.
Alyssa stayed up late reading smut again. She told herself she would go to bed by 8 so that she’d wake up fully rested and ready for the 9 am shift tomorrow, but instead she read until nearly midnight, squirming with need in her bed. She forgot her alarm didn’t go off on the weekends.
She woke up extremely rested and warm, pussy aching but otherwise feeling great. Then she looked at the clock. Shit. It was already nearly 10am. She missed her shift at the company. She hadn't realized how badly she needed that shift until the opportunity was gone. Ah well, there was always tomorrow.
After just 30 minutes of being awake and horny, Alyssa decided tomorrow was not soon enough. She needed touch NOW. Besides, they said the company had flexible shifts. Might as well see how those work, she thought.
So Alyssa put on some comfortable clothing. The outfit turned out a bit more provocative then she may have considered comfortable last week for sure, but the crop top and short skirt just felt right.
The company wasn’t walking distance, but was only a 13 minute drive from her house, and it had a huge parking garage full of free spots, unlike her real job. She parked and took her badge out of the glove box and walked in.
She could have gone right through the gates with her badge but she didn’t know how to get to the right floor without Hannah operating the elevator, so she stopped by the receptionist desk. There were two girls there today, both younger then alyssa maybe only 19 or 20 chatting up a storm and texting on their phones, visibly doing nothing, but they eagerly looked up as Alyssa approached them.
“Excuse me,” Alyssa said, “How do I use the elevator if I’m coming in late?”
“Oh don’t worry about it!” The blond on the left said.
“The bellhops will take you up!” Said the one on the right.
Alyssa thanked them, swapped her badge, and walked over to the elevators. As she was walking away she heard the two receptionist start to moan, and felt her own pussy clench in jealousy.
When she pressed the up button the door opened and there was a woman in there, ready to take her up.
“What floor do you work on sweetie?” The woman asked. She must have been in her 50s or 60s. It hit Alyssa again how many women and how many different ages and people from different backgrounds there were working for this company.
“Third floor.” She said. The woman pressed a button on the wall, swiped her badge, and started moaning as her belt evidently started edging her. The doors opened and Alyssa stepped out, pussy READY to get some attention. She walked to the accounting area and knocked on Hannah’s door frame.
“Oh Alyssa right?” Hannah asked, “Welcome back! Are you ready to start a shift?”
“Yeah, I need to come so badly, but at this point I will take anything I can get,” Alyssa said.
“Completely understandable. Follow me, let’s get you set up.” Hannah lead her to a different desk then the one she had before, because the one she had before was occupied. Hannah noticed her looking at the seat somewhat skeptically and said “don’t worry, seats are sanitized every night.” Then she got to work unlocking Alyssa’s chastity belt, and locking her into the chair.
The dildo alone felt so good filling her pussy. That feeling alone was worth the effort and time it took to get here. It felt like perfection. Hannah was talking and Alyssa wasn’t paying any attention. She put some effort into listening again.
“Remember the buttons, green if you have work questions, yellow to use the restroom, and red if you want to be done for the day. You have a task list, I’ll leave you to it.” Then she was gone.
Guess it was time to get to work and earn some edges. Too bad they wouldn’t be orgasms. Alyssa clicked her list and got to work on the first item: Settle accounts payable for stores 325-350.
It was familiar stuff, the same thing she did at her day job. Real job. Whatever. She got to work on it, but just before an hour had passed the lunch bell rang and Hannah was lifting people off their chairs and locking them into belts for lunch. Alyssa hadn’t even edged ONCE yet.
Chapter 11:
Lunch was delicious, homemade pizza and wings. Alyssa sat at a table of women about her age and it seemed like most of them lived on the compound as they called it, and one was moving in this weekend. They where so excited about it, talking about things they would be able to do as a group now that the girl moving in didn’t have a “pesky, selfish, timehogging, life sucking lame job”
They even invited Alyssa to a 2 week cruise they were going on in a month using company allocated recreation funds they had earned, and as much as Alyssa wanted to hang out with these girls, she couldn’t afford it, not that her boss would give her 2 weeks off even if she had 2 weeks of vacation time.
It was a shame because it was fun to hang out with them, and it had been so long since Alyssa had friends, not sense college, and she really wanted to get to know these fun, energetic, gorgeous women. They seemed to be full of life and you could see it shining in their faces. Alyssa wanted to be like them.
Soon enough the bell rang again and they all loaded back into the elevators and went back to their respective departments to work and edge.
About 45 minutes after lunch, Alyssa had finished her first task on the list. The edging was both wonderful and tourture at the same time. The dildo was vibrating and fucking her, and ocationally a second vibe was pressed into her clit making her scream. She felt like she was on fire. She felt like she was half a second from coming but she couldn’t, didn’t, come. She tried to focus on it, to force herself to come, but nothing happened.
After finishing each of her four remaining tasks, she was edged. Each time it was perfect maddening bliss. She NEEDED to come, desperately. She thought this would be less frustrating then no touch whatsoever, but it was just a different form of frustrating. At least she felt like she was in heaven.
After finishing her fifth task at 6:30, she had earned an hour of edging but after only about 20 minutes she couldn’t take it anymore. It was both too intense but not enough to take her over. The dildo fucking her was still heaven, but was rubbing her painfully raw. The vibe pressing into her clit was amazing, but her clit was going numb. She was soaked, but so so thirsty. She hit the red button and everything stopped vibrating and the dildo gently pulled out.
Hannah came out of her office with Alyssa’s belt. She unbuckled Alyssa from the chair and locked her back into the cruel belt.
“Dinners being served in the cafeteria from 5-9 like it is every night, how about you eat something before you go home? I noticed you didn’t last time you where here.” Hannah said.
“Thanks.” Alyssa said. It wasn’t a bad idea. The food here had been wonderful every single time. And she had met some people she’d like to speak to again.
So after her belt was double checked at the elevator she got off at the second floor and saw some of the girls she wanted to hang out with already eating, so she got some dinner, soup, and joined them.
The rest of the group trickled in, and alyssa learned more about them. There where seven girls in all, and counting the one moving in this weekend, 5 lived in the compound. They talked about it like it was the best thing on earth, even though they didn’t get to come. When Alyssa asked about it they all sorta shrugged it off as if it wasn’t important or something.
They talked her into staying for a movie marathon, with popcorn and alcohol in one of the dorm common rooms with them, and by the time they were getting ready for bed, it was nearly 2 am. The two other girls who lived outside the compound where just going to crash in one of the others rooms, and when they told Alyssa she could do the same, she took them up on the offer. She shouldn’t drink and drive, she rationalized.
If you read this far and liked it, that is 38 pages worth of amature writting that takes a lot of time and effort for mercy to write, so please consider reblogging it so it can find a bigger audiance, or tipping mercy so she is more encuraged to write.
mercy has places she wants this story to go but she feels so bogged down of the details of GETTING it to that time and location. This is a work in progress and there will be more chapters, but she is having issues with pacing and stuff
