TITLE    : My Roommate's Pet
STORYID  : my-roommates-pet
SUMMARY  : New roommate tries to make me into her pet.
AUTHOR   : TiltingatWindmills@lit
DATE     : 2024-11-17
CATEGORY : bdsm-stories
FLAGS    : h
TAGS     : |pet play|tease and denial|denial|femdom|roommate|cum eating|


I'm not an involuntary celibate.

Those guys are weird.

For me, it's very voluntary.

I was front of the line, signed myself up. Not interested in dating women, not even interested in touching myself.

You see, I'm a big believer in self-control. Like a monk. Every time you masturbate you're just shooting chi into a Kleenex. Wasting your life force. That's why I deny myself the pleasures of the flesh.

I wake up at 6AM, go for a run, chug a smoothie and start my work day. I could afford my own place, but I'm saving up to start a consulting firm so I found a roommate.

Amelia was the first person to respond to the posting, and was willing to meet up with me that same day.

To be honest, she was prettier than what I wanted. Braided, dirty blonde hair, dimples that popped when she smiled. I don't need that kind of distraction around the house. But we got along great, and she was wearing this huge frumpy white t-shirt that went down almost to her knees. She could have been hiding a holstered side arm and I wouldn't have noticed. So I told myself she was a temptation that I could handle.

Everyday it seems like that girl brings out a new white shirt to use around the house. Sometimes it's boring corporate swag, sometimes it's a heavy metal band t-shirt. When I first asked Amelia what her favorite Pantera album was she said she didn't know who they were.

Now normally if there's a woman showing some skin I just tell myself to look away. Preserve the chi. But there was a mystery I needed to know... was she wearing anything under those shirts?

The mystery only deepened as she became more comfortable around the house and started wearing shirts with higher and higher hemlines.

On the fifth or sixth day after she moved in, I was in the kitchen, reaching for a jar of pasta sauce on the top shelf. I was actually eying up a chair to use as a stool when she walked in the door.

"Looks like you need a hand there partner," she gave me a wink and a smile.

"Oh no it's fine, I can umm, grab a chair or..."

Amelia didn't wait for me to finish. She just rose up on her tip-toes and plucked the jar from the top shelf. As she did I stole a glance at her rising t-shirt and caught a flash of her black panties.

Mystery solved, I thought. Scooby can go home, and I can stop checking out Amelia's body, trying to figure out what's going on under there.

It's just a pair of black panties. With lace trim. Hugging smooth legs and a cute ass.

Dammit.

"Got ya covered," she smiled and passed me the jar.

"Thanks," I replied, perhaps not with the charm of a movie star, but at least with the charm of an off-screen extra.

Then I went to open the lid, finding it sealed as tight as if it had been canned by my grandmother back in 1940. Just my luck.

"Oh no. Are you about to go zero for two on masculine domestic duties?" she laughed.

Before I could react she took the jar out of my hand and twisted it. Fortunately she couldn't seem to make it budge either. She shrugged, "Must be a hard one. Maybe run it under hot water or something."

When she handed it back I tried one more time and found it opened smoothly. Suspiciously smoothly.

She winked again.

Well at least she was a sweetheart.

Later that night Amelia had a gentleman over. They were a little bit loud, but I used ear plugs and fell right to sleep. Well, almost right to sleep. As soon as they finished I guess.

In the morning I had already eaten breakfast and finished off a few emails when I decided to take a break and maybe down a can of tuna or something.

So I opened my door and stepped toward the kitchen when I heard whispering. I took a few quiet steps down the hallway, not wanting to disturb them if they were up to something private in the bedroom, but Amelia's door was open and the room was empty. By then I could make out words coming from the kitchen and with one more step I was able to see Amelia and half of the man she had in there with her.

"So I'm setting the timer," Amelia spoke, her eyes away from me and towards her partner. "The perfect poached egg needs three minutes. But in the meantime, I thought we could have a little fun?"

I froze and stepped to the side. I was pretty sure Amelia couldn't see me from there.

"Oh yeah, what do you have in mind?"

"How about a bet? If I blow you and you finish before the timer goes off, then I get to keep your t-shirt."

"What am I supposed to wear home?"

"That's the fun of it. You go home topless. But really you shouldn't need to. Can't you control yourself for a few minutes? We just fucked like an hour ago."

I knew the polite thing to do was to turn around. I'm not naturally a voyeur, but it had been 68 days since I last finished (there's a counter next to my calendar) and after that long... well it becomes hard to look away.

"Fine fine, you better hurry if you're going to stand a chance," the man responded.

Amelia didn't waste any more time. She dropped to her knees and unbuckled his pants like she was trying to rescue his cock from fire ants in his underwear.

Amelia was so fast that the dude wasn't even hard before she had him in her mouth. But she sucked, and toyed with his balls, and the next time she came up for air his dick popped out of her mouth sporting a full, angry purple.

"Fuck," he whispered.

I'm not going to exaggerate and say he was twice the size of me. But he had the edge in the size category. Meanwhile my little guy was doing his best to catch up.

That's when Amelia slipped her hand under her shirt and started playing with herself. I don't know if she was faking her pleasure, but she was vocal.

By now I was rock hard, and trying to unfreeze myself to stop watching. Amelia's head was swallowing her partner aggressively and her moans were muffled only by the meat that was halfway down her throat.

I'd like to tell you all the details of what happened next, but the fact is I have more self-control than that. At least I did back then.

I turned around and slipped back into my room. I shut the door quietly behind me and then had a good hard look at that calendar. 68 days is not a record to throw away lightly. I forced myself to do some pushups and by the time I finished I heard the alarm go off in the kitchen.

I gave them an extra ten minutes to be safe and then got my can of tuna, acting as if nothing ever happened.

But Amelia was wearing a new t-shirt.

Another mystery solved.

***

A few days later Amelia was with me in the living room. It was getting towards bed time. I was reading a book while she was scrolling through her phone on the couch next to me.

"Oh look at this," Amelia squealed as she turned her phone towards me. "Someone trained their golden retriever to open the fridge door and bring them beer."

"Damn, dogs are amazing."

"Aren't they? I don't understand why we aren't allowed pets in our building. They're cleaner than boys, and apparently more useful too."

"You seem to do okay with men, I bet there would be plenty of guys who would tolerate a little training if it meant being with you," I joked without looking up from my book.

"Some men need more than a little training."

"We're not all that bad."

"No, I suppose you're housebroken already aren't you Wes?"

I loved hearing my name on her lips.

But I suppressed the warm fuzzies and rolled my eyes at her.

"I mean you don't bite. Follow instructions. Those are the big ones. Would you like to be my pet, Wesley?"

"Weren't you a farm girl? I feel like they don't treat animals very well."

"You wouldn't be livestock Wesley. You'd be a pet. It's a trade. You'd show me some... obedience, and I'd give you affection."

As she spoke she placed her hand on my knee and started rubbing it.

It was nothing much, a few fingers underneath the edge of my shorts, but I felt like my body was plunging waist deep into a hot tub.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember the last time I had been physically touched, skin to skin by a woman. Six months ago? Some relative at Christmas? Maybe?

I guess I took too long to respond because she changed her tack.

"I just think it would be nice to have a game between us, you know? A little inside joke. I'll be out with some boy that I want to escape from and I'll tell him I need to get home and take care of my pet. And you'd be the pet. Here, let's start with something easy. You give me foot a rub, and then I'll do something nice for you."

Without asking she leaned back and plopped a foot in my lap. Once again, my hair-trigger arousal kicked in and I could feel blood rushing to my groin. I picked up her foot and placed it a few inches further from my crotch but obligingly began rubbing.

"You know if you wanted a foot rub Amelia, you could just ask for it. Everything doesn't have to be a game."

"I like games though," she pouted. "Just say the words. Tell me you'll be my pet. Even if it's just for the night."

That hot tub feeling had spread all over me. Even the greatest monk is still a human.

"Sure Amelia, I'll be your pet." I might have made my voice a little too condescending when I said it. But she needed to know I was just humoring her.

Yet she didn't seem to take it that way.

"Good boy," she said and then she curled forward and patted my head.

I don't think I have ever felt such a rush of feelings from two simple words. I've seen a therapist a few times, and I know there are issues to work through in my past, but I never thought I had some desperate longing for maternal approval.

Amelia proved me wrong.

I continued rubbing her feet, just staring at them. Thinking about how close they were to... me.

After a minute Amelia yawned.

"Oh my God that feels so much better," she lifted her feet back onto the floor and stood up. "Well I'm off to bed."

"Wait, I thought I was getting something in exchange for that foot rub."

"You already did. Remember when I patted your head?"

It seemed that the exchange rate for pets was not particularly favorable.

She smirked and I could only laugh and shake my head in amazement.

She had nerve, this one. And I liked her more because of it. It did feel like I owed her. That I got the better end of that deal. Because when it came to Amelia, it felt good getting taken advantage of.

"Well goodnight pet. And don't worry, I'll take a few minutes in the bathroom so you'll have long enough to cool down." She gestured at the tent in my shorts.

I'm pretty sure I blushed but the only mirrors in the house are in Amelia's bedroom and the bathroom, so I couldn't tell for sure.

I went into my room and closed the door behind me.

For the first time in almost ten weeks I touched myself. Just one tight squeeze around the shaft. That's it. I swear.

And then I told myself that the next day we would have a talk. I may not be the tallest guy, or the most handsome. But I'm a hard-worker and I deserve to be treated with respect. Not teased like some animal.

You can't plan your way around Amelia though.

The problem was that the next time I saw her she burst through the doors, all upset about something with her arms full of groceries.

I took the bags from her and set them down and she immediately sank into a puddle on the floor and started crying. When I asked her what was wrong she just shooed me away.

But I'm a practical man. I put away her groceries and made her lavender tea. Her favorite.

I sat down on the tile floor next to her, handing her the mug and she looked like she was going to break into tears all over again.

When she finally composed herself she squeezed my shoulder and looked at me right in the eyes and said, "You really are a good, good boy."

And then we both laughed. And it felt like a barrier had been broken.

And so all that week I did favors for her. And sometimes she would do favors for me. But whenever I did something for her she would tell me I was a good boy, and it truly did become like an inside joke.

A joke that made me feel warm and gooey inside. Not in a sexual way. Just in a nice, cozy friendly way.

And so even though she would slip in the word 'pet' every now and again, I decided we didn't need to have that talk.

That feeling lasted until the day she brought a girlfriend home with her after work.

Now when I say <i>girlfriend</i>, I'm not exactly sure what I mean.

The girl was younger than us. I'm a few years older than Amelia and I'm in my early thirties. Well, early to mid-thirties.

And this girl looked like she was maybe in her first year of college. But her and Amelia were really touchy. Touchy and giggly.

I walked into the kitchen and found them both sitting on the countertop, eating yogurt.

"Oh hey Wes, this is my friend Carli," Amelia said.

Carli was a bombshell. She was wearing a short, pleated skirt, light blue top, and her hair was tucked back in a headband. It looked like she had just come from tennis practice, but no sweat and no racket.

Amelia was in a white top, but this one was a button up dress shirt - unbuttoned so that I could see her cleavage for the first time. My breath caught in my throat when I saw a fringe of dark blue lace, and the cream and shadow of her breast.

"And Carli, this is my roommate Wesley, but you can just call him Pet."

I was a little taken aback.

"Haha, hi Pet," Carli giggled.

"It's nice to meet you, Carli," I said in my most adult of voices, heading for the fridge and ignoring their silliness.

I pulled out a bottle of vitamin water and cracked the top before turning back to them.

"So what do you do Carli?"

"Oh I'm a server. I spent last year backpacking and now I'm saving up for college. Amelia tells me you're a contractor?"

"Consultant."

"Right. That sounds nice."

"Has Amelia told you a lot about me?"

"Just that you're her favorite roommate of all time. She says all her old female roommates were super catty, and the guys were perverts, always sneaking looks at her. But she feels comfortable around you."

She crossed and then recrossed her legs while she said it, as if daring me to take a glance.

It was like trying to avoid looking at the sun during an eclipse.

"Oh, that's nice I guess," I said, maintaining eye contact like my life depended on it.

"It's true," Amelia attested. "Wes is very well trained."

And there was that wink.

"Wes could you be a dear and grab the spirulina powder, I wanted to show Carli, she's never seen it before."

I turned and opened the cupboard, spotting it on the top shelf.

Of course it was on the top shelf.

"Oh I bought a stool for you. It's over there," Amelia smiled innocently.

I turned and noticed for the first time that there was a little pink stool sitting in the corner.

I grabbed the stool and retrieved the spirulina.

"Carli and I were just talking about our childhood dogs when you came in," Amelia said, accepting the spirulina as I passed it to her. "Did you ever have a pet dog."

"Yup," I replied, a little nervously.

"Did it ever try and hump your leg?" she asked.

I laughed. "Yeah, a few times I guess. We always just scolded it."

"Because pets aren't allowed to get relief, are they?" Amelia asked, watching my reaction as I did my best to keep a poker face.

"Seems a little mean when you think about it," Carli interrupted. "They're just looking to get their needs met."

"That's a good point," Amelia agreed. "Now that you're older, what do you think Wes? If I got a pet puppy should I let him hump my leg?"

The room felt tense as she waited for me to respond.

"No, I guess not," I replied. "He should know his place."

"Good answer, Pet" Amelia responded with a grin.

"You two are being weird," Carly broke in. "What's actually the deal with this pet thing? Is this some kinky shit I don't want to know about?"

"No," Amelia laughed. "He just likes doing things for me. And he's got that puppy dog look to him, don't you think?"

"Hmm, a little," Carli shrugged. "So will Pet do anything for you?"

"I don't know, we haven't really pushed the boundaries," she paused to consider which boundaries she wanted to push. "Pet, if I made a mess right in front of you, would you clean it up for me?"

"You'd have to have a good reason," I said evasively.

"What if there was no reason?" Amelia pressed.

"Then you'd have to ask really nicely," I dodged, feeling the room turning against me uncomfortably.

"Let's say I didn't though. Let's say I just commanded it," she bit her lip and stared at me with those mischievous eyes.

It seemed like the noise of the refrigerator softened and the wind outside the window went still.

"I guess we'd just have to see what happens." I tried and failed to suppress a shiver that rose up my spine.

Amelia took another spoon of her vanilla yogurt and placed it daintily in her mouth, "Hmm" she said. And then she leaned forward, opening her mouth ever so slightly and let the yogurt slip out onto the floor.

She had to know what it looked like.

I watched the thick cream splat onto the tiles, spreading out like little impact craters on the moon. Then she released the rest of her mouthful and the glob fell to the floor, catching her foot on the way down and leaving a dangling strand.

She looked at me and arched her eyebrow.

It was like being under the stare of a siren.

The only sound in the room was of me breathing.

Carli's mouth was open in a half smile, half stunned look as she waited to see what would happen.

I reached for a tissue on the counter and moved to kneel before them in a trance.

It felt like someone else's body was moving for me. I certainly would never humiliate myself like this in front of Amelia and her teenage friend.

I could see Carli's beautiful legs, young, and smooth. And next to hers, dangling over the edge of the counter, Amelia's beautiful porcelain skin, and the white shirt barely covering her up.

Once I was on my knees Amelia spoke.

"Is that how a puppy would clean up this mess?" and she gestured at the tissue.

My mouth was agape. I looked back at her. From this low angle I could see the dark blue of her panties in my periphery, but my eyes remained locked on hers.

I extended my hand and she took the tissue from me.

Bending forward ever so slightly I watched her face for approval.

She nodded.

She wanted me to lick it up.

I leaned down until I could smell the vanilla on the floor. And then I reached out for it with my tongue.

Carli gasped and then I could hear her laughing, slapping Amelia's arms with uncontained glee.

I licked until the mess was gone and then looked up at Amelia.

She was beaming at me and I felt that warm, cozy feeling surge through me again.

Then Amelia extended her foot towards me. The strand of yogurt quivered as she moved.

I licked it.

All I could think of was that my tongue was touching Amelia's skin.

I licked again, and again. When there was no yogurt left, I couldn't stop myself and licked a third time.

She pulled her foot back, and I felt the pang of being denied.

But then she whispered, "Good boy."

I savored the glow of those words. I wanted so badly to hear them again.

When the feeling passed I was still on my knees in front of these two beautiful women and I didn't know what the normal thing to do next would be. I guess there was no normal now.

So, kneeling before them, I felt the compulsion to ask her, "May I go back to my room now?"

She nodded.

Unable to look them in the eyes, I retreated into my room.

When I got there I realized my dick was rock hard, pointing out of my slacks.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I could hear the girls laughing from the kitchen. And then quiet. A minute or two passed. And then there was moaning.

I looked at the calendar.

81 days.

I took off my pants and lay down on the bed.
<hr pg="2" />It was Amelia moaning. I could picture Carli serving her, on her knees in the same place I had been moments ago. Amelia's panties pulled to the side and Carli's head between her legs.

My hands wandered over my stomach, my thighs. But I would not let them go near my cock. I saw its angry red form, the veins standing out. It twitched, desperate to be touched.

But I wasn't going to be some loser who gave in to the first temptation. So my cock just bobbed and twitched while Amelia's screams rose louder and louder until they finally stopped.

This was to be the first sequence in a long pattern of Amelia cumming while I suffered.

***

On Thursdays I go into work from the office. And one particular Thursday was a real killer. My colleague fucked up, the boss yelled at the whole team, and everyone ended up working overtime.

When I trudged back into our home, head low, Amelia noticed.

"My poor boy!" She stood up to greet me and then guided me back to the couch.

"Here. Lay your head on my lap. My poor little thing."

I didn't resist.

"Now don't you say a thing about your day. It will only make things worse. The best thing to do is just rest and listen."

And so she spoke to me. I'm sure it wasn't so long but it felt like an hour. She told me about her family, about growing up on the dairy farm, and her friends back from high school. And the whole while she ran her fingers through my hair, until the events of the day felt like they were months past.

At long last she finally asked me a question.

"So you've got to tell me pet," the word felt so natural now. Not as a joke, but as a term of endearment between us. "I never see you out on dates. I rarely catch you sneaking glimpses of my body. You're not gay, you're not religious, what's going on?"

"Oh, you'll think I'm a weirdo."

"Oh my sweet little one, do you realize half of the kinky stuff I get up to?"

We both laughed.

"Okay, promise not to judge me."

"Promise."

I gathered up my courage and could already feel a growing warmth in my crotch.

"I have this thing... I find when I don't touch myself for a few weeks, I get into this zen space. I have all this drive to accomplish things and I'm full of confidence. I'm not sure I actually believe it, but it's like if I cum, I lose my chi."

"I believe it," she interrupted.

"Wait, really?"

"Sure, I've sucked enough cocks to know. The guy starts shuddering and tenses up. It's like their spirit is leaving their body. And then they go limp and lifeless afterwards and they're all lethargic and good for nothing. That's why I always like to swallow. It feels like I've stolen their soul."

We both laughed.

"But it must be hard," she continued. "To hear some of the sounds I make next door. You must have heard me with guys or even touching myself. I've seen how easily you get hard," and she paused to trace the outline of the tent in my pants, running her finger along the bottom like she was following the base of a pyramid.

"You must be aching to be touched."

"It is hard," I spoke quietly.

"Is it wrong to say that I like making it harder?"

I wasn't sure what we were talking about now.

"No," I whispered in a trance.

"Good. Because I think you've had it too easy. Holed up, hiding away from everyone. It's good for you to struggle a bit," she squeezed my inner thigh as she spoke. "To suffer."

"I can handle suffering."

"We'll see about that," and she stood up with a smile and headed for her room.

I waited for her door to shut and then immediately went to my room. Off came my clothes and out came my cock. I touched it gingerly. Like it was a snake that I was afraid of.

But if felt good. So good.

I touched it more. And more. And a few seconds later when I felt ready to burst I looked at my counter on the wall and managed to stop myself.

It was then that I started hearing her through the wall. A quiet moan at first. Maybe just the sound of her breath catching. Then louder. And louder...

This woman was becoming a problem.

***

The next weekend Amelia pulled me aside, and let me know that her ex-boyfriend was in town and was coming over that night.

"So Tom will be here later this evening, and I just wanted to warn you that things might get raunchy."

She was fresh out of the shower. There were still drops of water on her clean, fresh face, and dark patches on her white t-shirt.

"That's fine," I responded, "I'm just planning on lying low, reading in my room tonight. I'll stay out of your way."

"Right, but the thing is, Tom and I get quite passionate. I'd feel so bad if we got carried away and you had to listen to us on the couch right outside your door. I guess because I have always known that you have a little bit of a crush on me, I wanted to make sure that you're okay with it."

I kind of liked the fact that she could be so cool and open about things. We were adults, we didn't need to make a big deal over some tiny, temporary feelings.

"Of course. Its your home too."

Her long wet hair had been draped over her chest, but she pulled it back absent mindedly and began putting it in a ponytail. When she did I could see her hardened nipples through the wet and now very transparent fabric.

Fuck.

"Okay, that makes me feel much better," she said as she finished with her pony tail.

"Yeah, like I said, I really don't mind," I gulped as I tried to maintain eye contact.

Here she paused as if considering my words. I could see a thought forming in the roguish way that she parted her lips and raised her eyebrows.

"You don't <i>mind</i> us fucking while you're inside your room?" she clarified. "Or you <i>want</i> us fucking while you're inside your room?" She took a step closer. "Say the words so I know you mean them."

My mouth was dry as I spoke.

"I want him to fuck you while I'm stuck in my room."

"Hmm. I like that. Do you have a lock on the inside of your door by chance?"

"Just a little button on my doorknob," I replied slowly as I tried to guess her intentions.

"Do you know how to take it apart and put it on backwards?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Good. Tom will be here in a few hours. It doesn't really make sense for a pet to be able to lock everyone else out anyway."

I glanced at her breasts while she spoke, and she smirked when my gaze returned back to her eye level.

"And Wesley, since I'm asking for your consent, I was wondering if there's anything you'd like to ask me for?"

"Umm, no, I don't think so," I responded nervously.

"Well, this is a little weird to bring up. It's just, if I had a crush on someone... even a little baby crush, and they were fucking on the other side of a door... well if I had to listen to them moaning, I'd probably want to touch myself. Even if I was doing my best to keep all my chi."

I nodded.

"You can tell me. I'm sure you don't orgasm much, but you must touch yourself a little. Tell me, do you ever think of me when you masturbate?"

"Umm, a little. A very little. Just like you said, when the noises get loud."

"Sure and I totally get that. I just think it would be nice if you asked me for my consent first. You know, if you're going to be picturing me, without my clothing," she placed her hand high on the doorframe as she spoke, leaning on it and causing her t-shirt to ride high up towards her hips as she spoke, "or imagining me doing things with you, or to you... it would be the gentlemanly thing to ask first."

"Right. Sure. I can do that," I said, thinking there was no way in hell I would ever ask that.

"It'd probably be hard for you to get up the courage though, just out of the blue. Why don't we try getting in the habit. If you think you're going to touch yourself later, why not just ask now?"

"Umm, right sure... would you mind if I thought of you later?"

"Thought of me when?"

"When I touch myself... while... while you're fucking?"

"No, I don't mind at all. And if you want to ask again tomorrow I won't mind either. Just so long as you ask politely."

She winked and then turned back to the bathroom, leaving me to ogle her ass as she did.

I went out to my car and brought back some tools I keep on the back seat.

When I came back I was surprised to see something pink hanging from my doorknob.

Amelia was back in her bedroom. The door was closed and music was playing.

When I got closer I realized what they were.

Her panties.

There was no way she just hung them there to dry. She wanted me to have them.

And she knew I had just asked to touch myself.

I know it's terrible but I couldn't help it. I brought them up to my nose and inhaled deeply. I could smell her on them.

There was a tiny wet patch in the silky gusset.

Fuck.

I had made her wet.

Or rather, her dominating me had made her wet.

I wanted to stop and rub one out right then and there, but I knew I had to wait. Wait for that feeling of being trapped while someone fucked Amelia outside my door.

There was no turning back now.

Against all reason, I spent the next hour disassembling and reassembling my door knob so that the lock was on the outside.

I told myself it was crazy, but continued doing it anyway.

Long before Tom was scheduled to arrive I used the bathroom one final time, and then shut the door.

Would Amelia actually lock me inside? It all seemed too far fetched.

When I heard Tom's car pull up in the driveway I felt my stomach flutter. I strained to listen.

There was a knock on the door and then the patter of Amelia's feet.

"Hi sexy," Tom growled when the door opened.

I wondered what she was wearing. Just her underwear?

Amelia didn't reply but I could hear them making out, stumbling through the hallway towards the living room.

I absent mindedly pulled down my pants and freed my aching member. By asking permission to touch myself, I felt like I had committed to doing so. But I told myself it was fine as long as I stopped before I came.

The footsteps continued right up until they reached my door.

"Hmm baby I want you so bad," Amelia didn't even try to lower her voice.

"Fuck let's go to your room," Tom replied.

"I need you in my mouth right now" Amelia's voice was frenzied.

I heard the sound of a belt buckle opening and then a zipper.

"Isn't he home?"

There was no way Tom had bothered to learn my name.

"Don't worry he always works with his headphones on... fuck you're so hard."

"Okay but what if he comes out?"

There was a pause and a brief shuffling and then I heard the lock on the other side of my doorknob turn.

She had actually done it.

I was trapped in here. Even if I wanted to leave to avoid the sound of them, I couldn't. The loss of control was intoxicating.

"There," she replied. "Now stop talking and feed me your cock."

"Why is the... fuuuuck."

Tom's question went unfinished as Amelia took him in her mouth.

I stared at my door. I could see it shaking ever so slightly. I pictured Amelia kneeling down on the other side, her mouth stuffed with Tom's member. I heard her gasp for air.

I slipped off my underwear and quietly picked up her panties before slowly tiptoeing over to the door.

I put my hand just next to the knob. Amelia was inches away. Only the thin wood of the door was between us.

"Show me your tits" I heard Tom say and I pictured his hands groping her roughly.

"Slow down, I'm getting close," he ordered.

"You better fuck me before you blow your load in my mouth then," she replied. "Let's move to the couch."

"No, I'm gonna take you right here."

I heard Amelia squeal as Tom picked her up. Then the door jolted against the frame and I half expected them to burst through into my room.

At first the door rattled only slowly, but soon it shook on its hinges as Tom slammed Amelia's back repeatedly against the thin wooden barrier.

I knew that any man with some self-respect would be pounding on the door, telling them to stop. But I wanted it.

Amelia moaned in time with each shudder of the doorframe.

"Please slow down, you're too big," she mumbled from the other side, but the pace didn't change.

"You're a bad girl, aren't you?" Tom asked.

Amelia didn't respond.

"I said you're a bad girl. Humiliating him like this. You like it don't you? You always liked toying with boys like him."

"Yes, I'm a bad girl Daddy. I'm a bad girl and I treat him like my little pet."

I caressed my blazing erection with her silk panties as I listened to them. The fabric barely touched the underside of my shaft, but it was more stimulating than anything I had felt in months.

"He's your pet huh? And you're locking him in his room? Are you going to put him in a little cage? Make him clean up your messes? You're such a twisted little slut."

Fucking hell. Had she done this before to someone? Or was he just playing along?

"Fuck yes, I'm so bad Daddy."

"Do you need Daddy to punish you?"

"Yes, I've been such a naughty girl."

"Daddy's gonna punish you all night long. But first I want you to cum for me. Can you cum on my big cock?"

"Oh fuck. Yes please. Please don't stop Daddy."

The door shook with more urgency and I stroked myself faster with Amelia's panties.

"Ask me to let you cum."

"Please, please let your little girl cum on your big Daddy cock."

"Again. Louder."

"Please let me cum Daddy!" Amelia wailed on the other side of the door.

"Good. Cum for me like a good girl."

I couldn't last any longer.

I closed my eyes and felt the cum erupt from me and catch in the soft fabric. I felt the throbbing, over and over again while I listened to Amelia screaming like an animal.

When I opened my eyes the panties were soaked in my cum.

I slumped backwards, collapsing on my bed with my own mess balled up in my fist.

I felt catatonic staring up at the ceiling. Minutes passed and I'm not sure I thought of anything at all.

The sound of the shower going startled me.

At long last, I rolled my head to the side and looked over at my calendar.

112 days. The streak was over.

Just then I heard someone fiddle with the lock and the door opened.

It was Amelia.

I dropped her panties on the floor and quickly covered myself my blanket.

"Oh no, what a naughty boy!"

Of course I should have yelled at her to get out, and although my mind felt clear, the shame of her discovering that I had jacked off into her panties put me at a disadvantage.

She stepped quickly into the room and bent over to pick up her panties.

"Did you cum into them? Oh, you're so bad," she said.

I couldn't help but glance at her legs under the ever-present white t-shirt. She must have been fully nude beneath it.

"Fuck that's a lot," she said as she unfolded them, revealing the sticky white mess inside. "Who's going to clean these up?" she asked.

"I'll do it, I'm sorry," I sat up in the bed, still covering myself with the blanket and reaching out to take my shame back from her.

"Does my pet even know how to clean a mess like this?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I can figure it out," I stammered.

"You'll have to soak it overnight you know?"

"Of course, I'm so sorry Amelia..."

I saw her scanning the room and her eyes settled on the toolbox I had left on my desk. I saw her smirk and recoiled a bit in fear. She walked over and grabbed a roll of duct tape.

"If you just give them back I'll have them clean..."

"Shh" she interrupted. "You're too talkative right now. Open your mouth for me."

I gulped, and then obeyed.

She stepped towards me and I knew what she was going to do.

"I think this will teach you a lesson pet. That you always clean up your mess." And she pushed the sodden panties into my mouth.

"Keep them soaking till morning," she said as she tore off a strip of duct tape and placed it over my mouth.

I felt the first gob of cum slip off of the fabric and slide down the back of my tongue toward my throat.

"And no more touching yourself. I think you've had enough for one night."

***

I can't say it was a restful sleep.

Between the constant sound of Tom and Amelia fucking, and the slow trickle of my own semen oozing down my throat, I don't think I got in many REM cycles.

I suppose I could have taken off the duct tape myself, but for whatever bizarre reason, I felt the need to obey. And so it wasn't until morning, when every drop of salty cum had been wrung out of her panties, that I allowed myself to remove them and run a load of laundry.

When Tom and Amelia both went into the shower I snuck into her room and left her panties folded on top of her dresser. She never mentioned it again.

And so several days passed without incident. Tom was away for work and Amelia spent a lot of time out with her girlfriends. It wasn't until Monday, while sitting down for breakfast we had our first conversation.

"So it's been a few days." Amelia started.

At the time I hadn't been sure what she was referencing.

"Since what?"

"Since you asked me for permission to touch yourself. I guess you haven't been thinking of me," she smirked.

"Well I'm not a teenager anymore."

"And you gotta keep your chi, right?"

"Exactly." I could feel the blush rising on my cheeks.

"I suppose though, that when I got you to eat your own cum, you got all your chi back, right?"

I almost spat out my oatmeal. "Yes, I guess so."

"Hmm, maybe we just found a way to let you have your cake and eat it too."

I shuddered. It was not a practice I was hoping to turn into a habit.

"So you didn't touch yourself today?" she pressed the subject. "Or yesterday?"

"Umm," I lamely pretended to think about it. "Well, just for a minute in the shower. I didn't finish though."

I can't believe we were talking about this.

"And did you think of me?" she grinned.

"A little, yes."

"Oh what a naughty boy. You agreed to ask permission!"

"Well you haven't been around."

"Puppy needs to learn to wait when master is out," she grinned again. That big, winning smile.

"I'm sorry," I said, finding myself falling back into the role.

She pulled her feet up on the chair and tucked her legs under today's billowing, oversized t-shirt. I struggled not to check if I could see her panties.

"Let's practice again. The next time you're thinking about touching yourself, I want you to come to me. Picture it now. You're rolling around in bed at night, and you can't sleep. You need some relief. So you come tiptoe to my room. And your palms are a little sweaty because you're nervous, but you promised you would do it. You see my light is on under the crack in the door so you knock. I open it. What do you think I'm wearing?"

"A white t-shirt."

I felt a stirring in my groin.

"Nope. This time I'm just in my underwear. Are you picturing it? Look at me now if it helps."

I did. And I realized I could actually see her panties. Baby blue. Fuck it was so nice, being allowed to stare at her.

"So you see me, in my underwear," she continued, "And now you know for sure that you need to touch yourself. What do you say?"

"Hi Amelia." At this point I was happy to play along. "I want... I really need to touch myself. Do you mind if I think about you?"

"Not a bad performance. I think that will work. But honestly, I'm a little offended at you not asking last time. I'm going to assume that if I'm the last girl you see before you masturbate that you're thinking of me. Even if I just flit in and out of your mind. So let's just say that every time you masturbate, you'll ask me for permission first, okay?"

"Okay."

"Can you promise?"

"I promise."

By now I was rock hard.

Up until the moment, I was the one who had been denying myself.

Now I had agreed that I would need permission from Amelia.

"Good boy," she continued. "Now ask again."

"Can I please touch myself, Amelia?"

"Yes." She stood up. "I'm going to go have my morning shower. Why don't you take care of yourself, right now, at the table. So you can concentrate on your work today."
<hr pg="3" />I didn't reply. I just waited, shaking a little until I heard her close the bathroom door. Then I pulled out my cock and began tugging. It had only been a few days of abstinence, it wasn't like giving up on a 112 day streak.

I heard the shower start. I imagined her naked body as I had so many times before. I could still hear her voice reverberating in my head, how she instructed me to take care of myself. She had really done it. In real life. And now she was naked in the other room, knowing that I was stroking my cock.

In mere moments I was already at the edge. I looked up, searching for a tissue, but saw Amelia standing there. She had never stepped into the shower.

"Sorry," she whispered, "I decided I wanted to watch."

I sat there with my cock throbbing in my hand. Barely containing myself.

After a moment I nodded yes.

"Can I touch it?" She asked.

I nodded again.

She stepped closer and knelt behind me. She wrapped her arm around me and tightly grasped the base of my cock.

"Should I help you finish?" she asked.

"Yes, please" I responded.

"Good. I thought you might like to be milked by the farmer's daughter."

"Fuck yes" I whispered as she stroked me once with her hand.

"Shh, cows don't talk silly." And she covered my mouth with her hand.

I was trying so hard to keep myself from blowing, but she must have realized because she was barely moving.

"Nobody's ever touched you here before, have they?" she asked.

I nodded... I'll let you guess in which direction.

"I like it better that way," she purred in response as her fingers feathered over my testicles.

"Would you like it if I milked you every week?" She asked.

I nodded my head vigorously.

"What if you were only allowed release when I milked you? Would you still agree."

It felt so good, the answer was obvious. I nodded again.

"You want me to control when you get to cum then? Fuck that's hot. But it's only fair, on the farm, cows get milked when I decide."

"Hmm" I mumbled through her hand as she stroked me a second time.

"I don't know if I can trust you to not touch yourself though when I'm not around." She mused to herself. "Would you wear a chastity device for me? Would you let me lock up your cock if it means that I touch you every week?"

My head was spinning.

Everything Amelia did was so intoxicating. I nodded yes and was rewarded with another stroke. I wanted her to keep going so badly.

"Hmm I love how hard your cock is. It's so adorable. Almost the same size as a cow udder. It feels so familiar, pumping it in my hand. I can't wait to do more of this."

I could feel a trickle of drool slip out of my lip onto her hand as she spoke, and when I tried moving my jaw I was surprised at how strong her grip was.

"Don't worry, I've got you under control," she whispered into my ear sending a shiver down my back

"Tell me Wesley, would you agree to do a little roleplay with me? If I dress you up as a cow during one of our milkings, with a little cutout for your cute weiner, would you let me milk you into a bucket?"

I nodded again, anything for that next touch, and sure enough she squeezed me deliciously from base to tip.

"And if I wanted to show off my prize heifer to Carli, you would let her watch?"

I hesitated, the thought was so humiliating.

"I'm not sure if you would have the willpower to say no. You'd already be so humiliated, with your cock sticking out of your cute little cow onesie, desperate for an orgasm that I had denied you all week long. While two pretty girls dressed in milkmaid outfits looked at you, could you really say no?"

I shook my head.

"We'll be laughing at you when you cum you know? I think that turns you on though, doesn't it? Girls giggling at your little pee pee."

My cock throbbed inside her grip, "Hmm, that's what I thought," she said, the smile evident in her voice.

"And you know what we'll do with the milk in the bucket?"

I shivered again but quickly recovered as she began stroking my shaft in earnest.

"I think you know who we're going to feed it to. Oh yes, we're going to have such a good time together Wesley," she was breathing hard into my ear as she jerked me off and I could hear the arousal on her voice.

"Go ahead, cum for me Wesley. Give me all of your fresh, hot milk. Show me who owns your cock."

The contractions pulsed within me, timed to the tugging of her hand, I watched the thick ropes lash out and cover my shirt as she worked.

She continued holding my cock tightly through the final contractions.

When I opened my eyes, I saw a strand of cum coating her fingers.

My jizz was on her skin.

It felt unbelievable.

And then she slowly started moving the hand towards me.

