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The Start-up Part 1 free porn video
The start-up Part 1
By Faye Croft
This story is based around 5 words selected by a friend, Marcie, and
written by myself. The chosen words are: Femdom, Kidnap, Hypnosis,
Resistant and Gimp. Marcie liked the first part, so I have agreed to
write Part 2 in due course. In the meantime, I'm pleased to load Part 1
into Fiction Mania.
Arabella was frustrated that her start-up business was not going well. It
seemed like the perfect career for her as it combined her training as a
psychologist with her hobby, and it also provided a means to make money.
She lived in a remote valley in the Pennnine hills, some 25 miles from
Leeds. She enjoyed the isolation, the large house nestling in woodland a
half a mile from the nearest road, where she had lived all her life. She
was using her inheritance from her parents to fund the start up, so money
wasn't an issue. She had converted her basement into a workroom, had
invested significantly in equipment to deliver her services, and had
expected a good response to her discreet advertising. She knew that there
was a demand for her style of services, but the imagery of her website
was limited as she had no real professional track record, and no images
of actual customers. She needed someone to model the customer experience
and perhaps take on an active part-time role.
She decided to put out a tentative advert on Facebook. There were many
groups that focussed on her area of interest, but she decided to cast her
net widely. She penned the following discreet words:
"Wanted part-time worker with GIMP experience, to help build baseload of
activity in new business south of Leeds. Must be prepared to help with
graphic images and illustrations, and increase productivity in my
burgeoning start up business. Payment in kind for the right person who
enjoys their chosen role in life. Email Annabella at [email protected]
with a CV and photograph for a telephone interview, and possible
subsequent meeting.
She posted the ad in a number of Facebook locations and waited for
responses.
A trickle of emails started to appear in the following week. Most were
timewasters, but she narrowed down the offering to three. Two of these
were men who wanted to wear rubber but also to dominate in any potential
meeting. They had got the wrong end of the stick, if there was any
dominating to be done, it would be by Arabella, she thought. The last
email was much more vanilla. It said:
Dear Arabella, I saw your advert, and was immediately struck by how our
objectives in life coincided. I am a computer buff, and have recently
invested in GIMP, which does indeed help one create graphic images and
illustrations, and is intended to help businesses grow their on line
presence, especially when just in the start-up phase. As I am no expert
in GIMP, I thought that I might offer my services to you free of charge,
to give me experience in a real-life situation, and you would then agree
to my using the outputs we create on my future CV to help me win future
work. A kind of win-win relationship?
Yours sincerely - Chris Dresser
At first she thought the man was mad. How do you invest in GIMP? You are
either a GIMP or you aren't. But he seems to want to help her, and
doesn't want any money. She decided she would meet him, and replied
suggesting a meeting at a pub on the outskirts of Leeds the following
night at 6pm.
Chris received her email suggesting the meet, and he punched the air with
excitement - this might be a real opportunity to get his own career kick-
started. He would take his laptop with him, and show her how the software
worked, and what he might be able to do for her. Odd that she didn't say
what her business was but he'd find out soon enough. He was impressed she
knew all about GIMP software. He knew the pub, as he lived in Leeds, and
replied saying he looked forward to meeting her at 6 tomorrow, and she
could recognise him as wearing a denim jacket and blonde hair.
Arabella dressed down for the meeting, wearing black leather trousers, a
white silk blouse and black velvet jacket. She went for 3 inch heels, so
she didn't appear too tall. She didn't want to scare him off.
Chris agonised about what to wear. He regretted now putting the false
name down, but Chris Smith was such a dull name, and Chris Dresser was
his alter ego, which he really only used when he was feeling girlie. He
would make some excuse about the name if it looked like they might work
together, and tell her his real name. He scanned his wardrobe and chose
pink satin panties and matching bra and suspender belt, with a short slip
which came down to just the tops of his thighs, and 15 denier black
stockings. On top came check shirt, denim jeans and jacket and T shirt.
He loved to have secrets.....to know that his sexy underwear was hidden
below conventional mens wear.
Chris arrived at the pub a little early, his bus had been on time. He
went in, got a pint of bitter from the bar and found a table in a quiet
corner. He kept his laptop in a bag - but he was eager to show her what
he could do on it. The GRO Image Manipulation Program was pretty neat and
helped with creating a real impact for website images and advertising
generally.
Arabella walked in and spotted him in the corner. She raised an eyebrow,
and he immediately jumped up and approached her. His heart was thumping,
this woman was seriously beautiful, in fact she was spectacular. "Yyyou
must be Arabella? Can I get you a drink?" he stammered. "And you must be
Chris, a glass of red wine would be nice" she replied, sitting elegantly
and somewhat imperiously.
Chris returned with the wine, setting it down carefully in front of her.
She was mildly pleased that he was presentable, not a wierdo. He was
overwhelmed that she was such an amazing looking woman. "Before we talk
about the opportunity, I'd like to hear about your experience and likes
and dislikes in life."
Chris pondered on the relevance of this, but began to talk. He rambled a
little, talking of his childhood as the youngest of a family of four
children, three girls and himself, and how he had taken to his computer
for want of something to play with. He had left school at 18, but didn't
fancy university, so had taken odd jobs which were IT related, and hence
his decision now to set up on his own and make a living from computers.
As he spoke, Arabella noticed that he regularly put his hand inside his T
shirt and fiddled with his shoulder. It was an odd thing for a man to do,
but women did it frequently, to adjust their bra strap or pull up the
strap on their slip. She began to look more carefully at Chris, and
thought she could make out a reddish outline under his T shirt. She
looked down at his feet and saw his socks were shiny and barely black and
very smooth - could be he is wearing tights? She gazed at his thighs, and
saw slight knobbles in the denim of his jeans just where a suspender clip
might be. Hmmm, very interesting...
Chris paused for breath, perhaps he had been talking too much, and she
seemed to have lost concentration, and as if bored, was looking around,
down and anywhere except at his face.
"I think I have the picture of your background," she interrupted. "Now
tell me why and how you came to be a GIMP?" Chris was happier talking
about his work, and glad she had changed the subject. "Oh, well, that's
easy. The GIMP package extends my ability to provide great graphics -
realistic and brilliant for improving websites, I'm sure you'd love to
see some examples," he replied, getting his laptop out and opening up the
main page of the GIMP program. Arabella saw the header: GRO Image
Manipulation Program. Her heart sank, she couldn't believe that he was
offering a bloody computer program. What moron named their program after
a submissive rubber freak?
She let Chris drone on, but her mind had turned to other ideas. She
rather liked this young man, he was personable, good-looking and appeared
to be dressed in female underwear, so might well be submissive. If not,
she could always train him to be submissive. That could be rather fun.
She had plenty of rubber gear in her dungeon, and she had often wondered
how feasible it was to take a vanilla person and convert them into a true
submissive or gimp. The challenge was how she might take control of Chris
Dresser. She had already sussed that his name was a play on words, and
perhaps he was a crossdresser on the quiet.
She let him come to the end of his pitch on his wretched program,
although having said that, it sounded like it might be useful in
developing her website. "So tell me, Chris, do you have a partner, or are
you a free agent?"
"Oh, I'm single at present, not been living in Leeds very long, so I
don't have attachments."
"OK, that's good, as I was thinking that it might work better for me if
you came and stayed for a week or two so we could develop the
relationship in an uninterrupted way." Chris looked surprised at this.
"Most of what I can do is on the computer, so I don't need to be at your
place. We can correspond by email and I can access your systems if you
let me in."
"OK, let me think about that for a few minutes. Go and get us both
another drink, we will both drink red wine this time, beer is so vulgar,"
she instructed, handing him a ?10 note. Chris was taken aback at her
telling him what to drink, but was so enamoured by her that he swallowed
his pride and headed for the bar. Arabella thought carefully whilst he
was away. This looked like it might be the perfect opportunity to try out
some of her ideas developed from her psychology degree. Take a straight
man, and help him discover that he is a submissive. She checked in her
handbag, and found a sachet of white powder inside. It was a gift from a
friend in the chemistry department at uni, an experimental potion which
caused the recipient to be accepting of ideas introduced to them by
another. It just improved their suggestibility.
And in that instant, she decided she would enact a fantasy she had long
held. He was the perfect target, and she had all she needed to make it
happen. She felt herself getting moist in her pussy as the excitement of
what she was about to do built up. She smiled as Chris returned bearing
two large glasses of wine. "Theres a good boy, now," she greeted him. "I
think we are going to get along famously. I would like to give you the
GIMP opportunity, but you must agree that you will obey my instructions
at all times. Do you understand?" Chris nodded in delight. "Oh brill,
that's excellent," he gushed, and raised his glass to her, and they
toasted the relationship.
"Now run along to the toilets, and have a wee, and then remove your
panties and bring them back for me to see." Chris blushed a deep pink,
almost the same colour as his panties. Shit, how did she know he was
wearing panties? "Errr, I'm sorry, why would you think I'm wearing
panties?"
"Because I can see the outline of your bra through your T shirt, and
nobody wears a bra without matching panties. Now, remember what I said,
obey instructions at all times or the job is cancelled. Come on, sweetie,
its not too hard - just go to the loo, and take off your knickers whilst
you're at it. Don't feel embarrassed. I like the idea that you are
wearing stockings as well, but I'm not asking you to show them to me.
Just the panties... Now go." Chris stood up and hurried out to the
toilets. He had a serious hard-on in his satin knickers. But could he
bring himself to show them to her? He went into a cubicle, dropped his
trousers and had a pee. He sighed, it wouldn't be too bad to show her a
glimpse of his panties. And he really did want to get the work. He
sighed, and pulled his trousers right off, and then his panties. Pulling
his trousers up without panties felt cold a drafty. He slid the seductive
satin and lace panties into his pocket, and went to wash his hands.
In the meantime, Arabella furtively emptied her sachet of powder into his
wine and stirred it round with pencil. She awaited his return, confident
that he would bring his panties for her to see. He crossed the room and
sat at the table, and reached for his glass - Dutch courage was needed!
"So did you have a nice pee? It looks like your little man has become
excited," she commented pointing to his crotch. He looked down, it was
true, you could see the bulge. He blushed. "And where are your panties?"
she inquired in a loud voice. "Shhhh," he hissed, as he surreptitiously
pulled the satin from his pocket. "Hand them over." He passed them to
her. She held them up and admired them. "Such good taste you have, Chris,
and a good make - I see they are Rigby and Peller, is all of your
underwear to this pattern?"
"Yes, now please may I put them away," begged Chris. "No, I think we will
just leave them on the table so I can admire them some more. Tell me why
you are wearing ladies underwear?"
Chris just wanted to shrink into the ground. He grabbed his wine and
drank deeply. "I just happen to like the fabric," he replied, hoping she
would shut up. "Yes, I can see that the pink satin is very nice to wear,
but why do you go for such exotic lace trim? Do you think it makes you
pretty?" Chris was about to deny this when he felt waves of emotion pass
through his body. He thought he should deny what Arabella said, but maybe
she was right. "Yes, pretty is what they make me, I like that." What was
he saying? He thought he'd better stop talking. He was feeling rather
drunk. The wine must be very strong.
"Finish up your wine and I'll give you a lift, you'd like that, wouldn't
you?"
"Yes, a lift would be pretty" replied Chris. "No, a lift would be good,
my panties are pretty." Sh** what was he saying? He felt dizzy. Arabella
held his glass to his lips and told him to finish his wine. He gulped the
last drops down, dregs and all. "Are you pleased to have won the work
with me?" asked Arabella. "Oh yes" he replied. "Will you obey me at all
times?"
"Oh yes," he replied. She smiled, and took him by the hand. "Would you
like to spend the night with me?"
"Yes please, I'm sure that would be for the best."
They walked out to her car, and Arabella had taken Chris by his arm, and
almost frogmarched him to the rear hatchback door. They were in a dark
corner of the car park, and Arabella could see they were out of sight of
anyone. "Hop in here, Chris, the back seat is full of stuff, but the
space here is really comfy. Theres a rug to snuggle up on." Chris almost
fell into the boot of the car, and she heard him saying how comfy the rug
was, as she grabbed a roll of gaffer tape and held his wrists tightly and
taped them securely together. She then whisked his panties from her bag
and stuffed them into his mouth, taping them firmly in place. Finally the
ankles, and she had her man secure for a journey into a new life. She
lent over the helpless man and whispered in his ear. "There, there now,
sweetheart, this is the start of a new GIMP life for you, and I'm sure
you will come to enjoy it as much as I will enjoy having you in my
household." She didn't wait for his reply.
She slammed the boot closed, and got in the car, and drove home. She
pondered how she might get him into the house, and settled on the
wheelbarrow - she could ease him into the barrow and wheel him through
the house to the stairs down to the basement. Then she could slide him
down on the rug to the basement.
This plan worked well, and Chris was quite groggy, so put up little
resistance. She hauled him into the bondage chair, and releasing his
ankles from the tape, and then fastened them into cuffs on the chair
legs. Likewise, hands were released and cuffed to the chair arms. She
then took a pair of sharp scissors and carefully cut off his jeans,
jacket and tshirt revealing the full extent of his pink satin lingerie.
She giggled to herself, as she rather liked the thought of Chris becoming
a pink satin maid in the daytime, and a gimp at night. She added strong
leather straps which wrapped round his body and were attached to the back
of the chair. It was padded, so he would be comfortable. Finally, she
removed his panty gag and slid leather hood over his head. The hood was
very special, having an integral ball gag and sound system. She slid the
perforated ball into his mouth, and made sure he could breathe through
both his mouth and his nose, and then zipped the hood closed. There were
no eye holes, and Chris descended into a realm of darkness.
She selected a looped recording of her voice, which she had titled "an
introduction to submission" and set it to play. She leant down and kissed
Chris on both cheeks, and plunged her hand into his groin, seeking his
dick through the skirts of his silky slip. When she felt she had it
firmly in her grasp, she fondled it and caressed it, rubbing the satin
into his skin, and was pleased to see it rapidly grow. This boy was
certainly amenable to sexual manipulation. "Night night, Chris, enjoy
your sleep and welcome to the House of Submission."
Fay
- 05.04.2022
- 10
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