Right from the Start Chapter Sixteen
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The Creature -- Chapter Sixteen free porn video
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
From the kitchen, we could hear Mom laughing nervously as her co-worker
told her stupid, risquee jokes.
Randy showed me the food preparation instructions he'd received from Mom.
Cutting vegetables for one salad, and cooking three dishes: soup, fish, and
a rice dish with almonds and raisins. 'Piece of cake,' I thought to myself.
Randy asked me what he should do. My head flooded with thoughts. First I
ACTUALLY thought 'Why is he asking ME what to do? He's the adult, I'm just
a kid!' Immediately I mentally scolded myself for thinking such a thought!
And then I felt a little hurt. 'He's just asking me because he sees me as a
girl, and thinks that because I'm a girl I'm naturally, inherently more
knowledgable and talented with food preparations!'
Then I heard Mom laugh her nervous laugh again. I worried about her, and
put my feelings aside. I could sense that somehow, she felt she was in
danger. And I didn't know how yet, but knew I'd need to save her.
I picked up a knife to chop the vegetables for the salad.
"Wait a sec," Randy said, carefully taking the knife out of my hand. "It's
not safe for such a little girl to be handling such a big knife." Then,
realizing what he'd said, he said, "Sorry. I don't mean that. You can have
the knife back in a sec, just, first, there's something I need you to do."
He went into the fridge and brought out something in his hand. I knew it
wasn't a kumquat since I wasn't suddenly going crazy with desire for them.
"I tried to talk her out of this," he said. "I told her it was totally
unnecessary. But Mom's nervous, and told me to make sure you swallow these
once I've gotten you out of your handcuffs." He showed me what was in his
hand. Three - no, four whole cloves of garlic!
I was shocked, began to back away from him, putting my hands in front of me
in protest, and shaking my head. 'More garlic?' I thought to myself. 'With
the amount of garlic I've already taken, I'm sure to remain completely mute
for at least another few hours at least! Three more would keep me silent
until the middle of the morning, perhaps even longer!' I said in my head.
"I know, I know, it's not fair," Randy said, putting a hand on my shoulder
and gripping me tightly so that I couldn't back away any more. "I tried to
tell her it was unnecessary. But Mom, she's not thinking so straight right
now. That guy makes her nervous. She said she needs to make sure that you
don't regain your ability to speak as long as that guy is here. She's
worried that he'll call you a cute girl, or worse, and that you'll react
badly. And that will have a bad result for her. So she insists on you
having more garlic."
I pouted.
"I'm really sorry about this. Like I said, I tried to talk her out of it.
But, no luck. But anyway, don't worry about it. I'll make sure to give you
a paper and pencil any time you want to say something to me. And I'll
personally make sure that you're not mistreated. I mean, I can't control
how that guy talks to you. But beyond talk, I won't let him do anything
bad. So you can take the garlic."
I sighed, silently, knowing there was no way out of it.
"You know what, take only one, not all three. Mom doesn't need to know.
I'll be able to tell her I gave you garlic. If she specifically asks if I
gave you all three, I won't lie, but I'll take the blame for you. Don't
worry."
That was kind of him. I opened my mouth and tipped my head back. He pressed
the clove of garlic against the back of my throat. I swallowed. "Good
girl," he said. I shrugged, and then opened my mouth again.
"More?" he asked. "You're OK with taking the other two? You're sure?" I
nodded, and opened my mouth again. He put the remaining two pieces of
garlic into my throat, and I swallowed them, sealing my fate for the entire
night and probably most of the morning as well.
"You've really become a really good, obedient little girl," he said with a
smile. "I really love who you've become. It's really fun spending time with
you." He held out his arms to hug me. I leaned in, and hugged him back,
feeling like I should be crying for what he'd just said. Before letting go
of me, he gave me a gentle pat on the behind. I responded by kissing his
neck.
"Now," he said, "about that food." He held the knife up with the handle
pointed towards me, for me to take it and start making the salad. I thought
to myself, 'Little girls shouldn't use big knives, it's not safe.' Before I
realized what I'd just thought, I shook my head, and just picked up a
cucumber.
I turned on my super speed, and moved my mouth and teeth kind of like a
wood-chuck or squirrel... quickly dicing the cucumber into tiny, identical
little cubes. I did the same with the rest of the vegetables, dumping the
tiny cubes from my mouth into the bowl. Within twenty seconds I'd made the
whole salad.
"Wow!" Randy said. "I had no idea THAT was one of your talents. I won't
tell him, or Mom, that the entire salad's already been in your mouth," he
said with a wink. I handed him the bowl and motioned for him to mix it and
taste it. "Does it need dressing?" he asked. I shook my head 'no'. He mixed
and tasted it. "Wow, that's the most delicious salad I've ever... but I
taste dressing... wait, is that from your saliva?" I nodded. He laughed.
"It's AMAZING!"
Next, the soup. Again, I prepared the vegetables with my mouth. I filled
the pot with water, and quickly dumped in some spices. Then, to heat it: I
rolled up my shirt and exposed my stomach. I touched the side of the pot to
my belly. I looped an arm around the pot. And I stuck my other arm, up to
the elbow, right in the liquid. I used my ability to heat my body, to
quickly heat the pot. The water quickly bubbled as I stirred the soup until
I could tell that it was ready. It only took twenty seconds. I didn't taste
it, but I smelled it. Then, I dropped a mouthful of saliva into the pot,
and mixed it once more with my arm. I handed the pot to Randy being careful
to make sure he held it by the handles and not the metal of the pot which I
was holding. He put it down and carefully tasted it with a spoon. He
approved.
Next I prepared the rice dish, also using my super speed and my heating
abilities. It only took me thirty seconds. Randy tasted it and told me it
was delicious.
Last was the fish. At first, I felt really guilty cooking a fish, something
that had been alive before. I didn't feel that the fish was too different
from me, and imagined them killing and cooking me! I felt nauseous! And
then, without warning, a thought entered my mind, as if put there by some
outside force. I have no idea how or why. I had remembered the writing that
had been on the back of my costume, and thought, 'They are the humans, and
make the decisions. I am a pet and must obey without questioning. They will
always judge situations better than me.' And I started preparing the fish,
almost in a trance! Only once I was done and presented it to Randy - thirty
seconds later - did I think back and feel disgusted by the thoughts I'd
had. I couldn't believe that I'd thought them, and that they'd effected my
behaviour so drastically!
'What's happening to me?' I wondered in horror. But only for a split
second. Because Mom's 'friend' made a remark about her tits and ass, and
she laughed really nervously. I couldn't think about myself. I had to
rescue Mom.
Randy had heard, too, and said, "We'd better invite them to the table and
rescue Mom." I nodded. Then I remembered something. I grabbed Randy's arm,
then went to the fridge, and took out a long carrot. I held it out to him.
He understood that I was asking permission to eat it. "You're worried that
it could get dark, and you'll fall asleep and not be able to help Mom," he
said. I nodded. "I'll feed it to you. Mom just told me that from now on we
should tell you to kneel when we give you food. It's stupid, I know, but
let's not think about what it means now, let's just do it quickly so that
we can go help her. When her guest is gone we can ask her what this stupid
rule is about."
I nodded. In my head, I wondered why he would insist on following a rule
that he, himself, agreed was stupid, and that Mom would never find out
about. But, like him, I wanted to get it over with quickly. So I dropped to
my knees, bent my head back and opened my mouth. He told me to cross my
wrists behind my back, and I obeyed. Then he slid the carrot down my
throat.
"Good girl," he said as I rose to my feet. I was worried about Mom. I
grabbed Randy's arm to get his attention, and then pointed at my pants and
drew a triangle over my legs in the air. At first he didn't understand what
I wanted, and then he guessed it. "You want to put on a skirt? Really? Oh,
maybe you think it will distract that creep from Mom a bit. Well, that's
brave of you, OK, let's do it fast."
I thought I'd just go to my room and change into the new dress that I'd
bought with Roger. But Randy followed me into my room. When he saw me take
the dress out of my closet, he said "No," and took it from me. He put it
back in my closet. "Mom says you need to save that for Tom's place. She has
something else, something a little less fancy for you that you can wear
tonight. I think it's still up in her room. Come with me, I'll show you."
He lifted me up and held me against him, wrapping my thighs around his
waist and placing a hand under my butt to hold me up. I put my arms around
his neck. He carried me out of my room and up the stairs to Mom's room.
There, he sat me down on Mom's bed and closed her door.
He walked into Mom's closet and brought out a plastic bag. It seemed Mom
had prepared for this or a similar evening, and had kept whatever outfit it
was hidden.
He looked into the bag, and then pulled out a shiny silver undershirt.
"Start with this. Take off your shirt and bra and put this on. I'll turn my
back while you change." He waited a second. "Ready?" he asked, turning
around to face me. I wasn't quite ready - it had straps which confused me
at first. It was a silver camisole undershirt held up by thin straps which
came together at a small silver ring between my shoulder-blades before
spreading out once more and attaching to the top of the back, opposite to
where the straps had begun in the front. The material had a horizontal
elastic meant to go just underneath my breasts, and a bit of extra lining
over the breasts so that I wouldn't need a bra. Actually, over the breasts
there were three layers of fabric, below that for about half of the rest of
the length there were two layers, and then below that just one. The lowest
segment, the one with only one layer, was just slightly see-through. Two
thin strings hung down at each of the sides on the bottom, which, I could
see, were there so that the material could be bunched up a bit around the
bottom, and the strings tied to keep the material up like that.
When Randy turned back around to face me, I had my breasts covered, but I
was trying to figure out the straps at the top of my back. The rest of the
shirt was still pulled up, so my entire stomach was still visible. "Here,
let me help you with that," he said. "We have to hurry." He pulled my hands
away from the straps and moved them down to my sides. He fixed the straps
for me, and then turned me around to face him, so that he could see my
uncovered stomach. I moved my hands up to pull the shirt down, but he
caught me by the wrists and moved my hands back down to my sides. "I'll do
that for you," he said.
But before he did, he dropped to his knees in front of me so that he was
eye-level with my belly button. He put his hands on my butt and pulled me
towards him. Then he rubbed my entire bare stomach, and then he kissed and
licked my entire belly, concentrating especially on my navel. Then,
finally, he slowly covered my stomach with my undershirt, first starting
with the shorter, under-layer, smoothing it out carefully with his hand,
then giving my belly-button another rub and lick, and then covering that
with the final layer of the shirt.
"Cute!" he said. "It's just a tiny bit see-through here. If you look real
careful from up close you can see your adorable belly-button! How special!
We could synch it up on the sides with these strings, but I'll let you keep
it down for now. I see there's a little shirt that you can wear on top of
that, but I'm not sure you need it. Let's get your skirt on first and then
decide."
He reached into the bag and pulled out a black pleated skirt. "We'll try
this on first," he said. "I'll turn around and let you change into it.
Unless... are you still wearing those black panties that came with the
dress from before? The costume panties that are meant to be seen?"
I wasn't expecting to be asked that. I was still wearing them - I hadn't
changed into different panties. I didn't want to lie to him, so, even
though I could guess what would come, I nodded, confirming that I was, in
fact, wearing them.
"In that case," he said, "I don't need to turn around, and I can help you.
It'll go faster this way." I wasn't sure he was right, wasn't sure I agreed
with him. It was true that he had already seen them on me, and, like with
dance costumes, those panties were, definitely, intended to be seen while
worn. But something seemed wrong about his assumption anyway. Context
seemed to matter. While it might be OK to see my panties if I'm wearing a
dance costume and do a twirl or flip, pulling down my pants and seeing the
same panties seemed wrong to me.
But he didn't think so. I tried to take a step back, away from him, since I
had no way of SAYING that I'd like him to turn around and let me put the
skirt on by myself, anyway. He caught me, though, placing both his hands on
my butt, and pulling me back towards him. I knew this was unavoidable, so I
just allowed it.
He opened the button in the front of my pants. Then he unzipped the zipper
- in my opinion, purposely pressing his hand against my crotch as he pulled
the zipper down. A second later the pants were down around my ankles, and
he was eye-level with my crotch, staring at the front of my panties. I
sighed to myself.
"Step out of those," he said. I did. He put his hands on my hips and turned
me around so that he could see my butt. Then he turned me around again.
Then he put his fingers on my crotch and started rubbing. Then he put his
lips against my crotch and kissed me. "Unfortunately, we're in a hurry so I
can't give you another orgasm, even though I know you really want one," he
said. He tossed my pants to the side of the room.
Now he held the skirt up in front of me, for me to step into. As I stepped
into the skirt, he leaned forward and kissed my crotch once more. Then he
pulled the skirt up for me. He stood up, took a few steps back, and looked
at me, telling me to turn around so he could see me from all sides.
It ended two inches above my knees. I thought I could've worn a longer
skirt, but I guessed he wouldn't have agreed to that.
"It looks cute," he said. "Nice. You have a nice girly figure. But let's
try the second skirt on first before deciding." He knelt and motioned for
me to approach him. I did, and he pulled my skirt down. Before he let me
try on the second skirt he had to touch my panties some more.
The second skirt he put on me was a straight skirt made of stretchy
material. It was made of a dark grey, sparkly material, and it was maybe
four inches shorter than the first one, which I didn't like. He rubbed his
hand down my crotch and my butt before allowing me to take a few steps back
and slowly turning around so he could see how it looked.
"I like this one better than the last one," he said. "It's shorter, which,
on you, looks great. And I like that it follows the shape of your body.
Your butt looks so cute and round."
He told me to turn around once more. While I did so, I asked myself why *I*
didn't get to choose, after all, it was my idea to wear a skirt to begin
with. And I was certain that the pleated skirt looked fine - I thought I
could've gotten away with a longer skirt, even.
"I really like this one, but we should try the third one before deciding
for sure," he said. I stepped back towards him, and he slipped my skirt
down my legs. I stepped out.
Before letting me step into the third skirt, which I could already see was
a shiny silver foil-like material, he gently slapped the insides of my
thighs and told me to spread my legs a bit. I did so, and he said, "I'll do
something nice for you just before we continue."
He held his hand with his thumb up, and fingers extended straight out, one
on top of another, and placed that hand between my legs, bringing it
upwards so that the tip of his index finger was a little bit between by
butt cheeks and his thumb was pressing against my clitoris. He slid his
hand back and forth a few times, stimulating my anus, my taint, my vagina
and labia, and my clitoris. It felt extremely humiliating and violating,
but at the same time felt REALLY good. And I actually orgasmed - a small
one, but he noticed. I didn't faint, but I did almost lose my balance; he
caught me with his other hand and steadied me.
I knew that he would make me wear that third skirt even before I tried it
on. It was obviously going to be VERY short, and very tight. And it was. It
only ended maybe two inches below my crotch. And it pulled so tight against
my butt, that there wasn't much left to imagination. It was really shiny,
smooth material, and after he decided that I was wearing it high enough,
showing enough leg, he felt the skirt against my body, which, again, felt
really good.
"This definitely is the best skirt of the three. It looks AMAZING on you. I
bet you're glad you had me to help you pick it out, right? So, I guess we
should get going," he said with his hands still on me. "Oh, you could wear
that with pantihose, Mom said. She thought you might feel more comfortable
with your legs covered a bit. I think that's silly, though. Your legs look
great! It would be a shame to cover them up. So, let's go." I felt really
ashamed at how I was dressed. It REALLY was not what I had in mind, when I
suggested I might put on a dress for dinner. But I had a very strong,
gnawing feeling inside that I had no choice in the matter, and that it
wasn't my place to question. While I knew that that was wrong, I also knew
that, practically, at this point, I didn't have much of a way of expressing
my protest, and knew that it probably wouldn't get any results anyway. So I
just let it go, clenching my jaw because of the tension.
He took me by the wrist, and put his other hand on my side, and started
steering me towards the door, having me walk in front of him so that he
could watch me. After only a few steps towards the door he brushed my hair
away from the back of my neck, leaned over and kissed the nape of my neck,
and then started sucking on my neck while moaning with pleasure and saying
how delicious I was. Then I started feeling his erection pushing against my
back as he held me against his body and fondled my breasts with his hands.
And then he said "Oh shit," and came in his pants.
"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit!" he said, looking down at the wet spot in
the front of his pants. I turned around and saw it - quite a lot of damage
indeed. Then he said, "Can you fix this? Or will I have to go change?"
I looked at him and shrugged. Then I nodded. And then I got down on my
knees and started using my tongue on his pants.
I sighed, knowing that what I was about to do would not raise my image in
his eyes at all. Realizing that his underwear were undoubtedly wet, too, I
reached up and began to undo his pants.
"Hey," he said, slapping the top of my head. "You can't see my underwear!"
I was surprised. Then he said, "Close your eyes. And keep them closed the
whole time. If I see you open your eyes I'll punish you. I know you can be
guided by smell instead of sight."
So I closed my eyes. I waited a second to see if he'd unzip his pants for
me, but he didn't. So I did it for him. I pulled his pants down to his
knees, and licked all the cum off his legs. Then I licked and sucked on the
front of his underwear. I even kind of gripped his penis between my lips
(with the underwear between us, of course), as I sucked hard and made sure
it was clean. I comforted myself for feeling bad for having his penis in my
mouth, by assuring myself that, at least, it wasn't hard. But as I finished
drying his underwear with my breath, he was beginning to get hard again!
I pulled his pants up for him. I had to put my hand on his penis and push
it down, a bit, so as not to hurt him as I pulled his pants up. I felt
jealous. I remembered having a penis, and missed it. I finished cleaning
his pants. They were as good as new, but he was erect once more.
"Thanks," he said, pulling me up to my feet. "You can open your eyes again.
I guess I need to be more careful. Let's go help Mom."
We were two steps out of Mom's bedroom when he said, "Oh shit. I forgot
something. Mom will be mad. Hold on, go back into her room and wait for me,
I'll be right back."
Hearing him walking down the stairs, I raised my skirt and tried to touch
my private parts in a similar way to the way he had done, giving me such
pleasure. First I tried it on top of my panties, and then I pulled the
panties down and tried directly. It did NOTHING to me. Not even a hint of
pleasure. I couldn't understand it. Surely I was better at touching myself
than he was, and yet even a little touch of his was so pleasurable, but
none of mine was! Before he came back into the room I had put my clothes
back in place.
"Here," he said when he returned. "Mom wants you to wear your 'Jasmine'
pendant. Of course, not with those chains. She got you this nice, simple
black choker necklace."
I watched as he threaded the black strap through the ring of the pendant.
It appeared to be made of shiny black leather, about an inch thick. A small
silver clasp would hold it closed. "Hold up your hair for me," he told me
as he raised the necklace to my throat. A second later I head a loud click,
and the leather pressed against my neck.
I let my hair down and felt it. It had obviously been made to fit my neck.
It fit perfectly, without even a tiny bit of slack, but not also not
actually choking me - not cutting into my skin. I felt the clasp that held
it closed in behind - all I could feel was a small metal cylinder holding
the two sides of the leather together. I couldn't feel a latch or a lever
or anything that might open it, and when I tried to twist it to see if it
needed to be unscrewed, it wouldn't twist at all.
"Don't bother trying," my brother said. "You can't open it without a key.
And I don't have the key - Mom must, somewhere. She didn't tell me where.
Anyway, it looks adorable on you. It really completes the whole look!"
'So it's not a necklace, it's a collar,' I said to myself, in my head. I
felt it again with my fingers. 'I'm wearing a collar, like an animal. A dog
collar. Great!' And in my mind, I felt as if I'd shrunk to half my height.
I hadn't physically shrunk. I just felt much less... human? Like I'd lost
even more right to make choices about myself?
Alessandra
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