Nandita To Nandini
- 3 years ago
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My New House And The People Who Came With ItChapter 1 free porn video
I have a money making little hobby that has recently led to an enormously erotic situation. I thought you might enjoy hearing about it.
First, let me tell you a little about myself. I'm a white male, forty-five years old, twice divorced and reasonably good looking. In order to stay in shape I exercise regularly. I have a strong sexual appetite and if I'm totally honest I have to admit that I have a dirtier mind than most. I don't see that as a negative.
I'm a very well paid computer professional. I've been lucky enough to find one of those rare positions that allow me to work out of my home and set my own schedule.
The hobby I mentioned is that I keep my eyes open for irresistible real estate deals. I buy excessively undervalued houses or I pick up properties at delinquent tax sales. Once in a while, through a couple of contacts at banks, I'm able to pick up a place that's about to go into foreclosure. Those are usually the sweetest deals.
I don't do it often. I cherry pick. Maybe once or twice a year I come upon a deal that is just too good to resist. It can be a hassle. I suppose that can be said of anything that involves attorneys. But it's a good way to pick up an extra fifteen or twenty thousand without doing a lot of work if you know your way around the system.
I recently received word from a contact at a bank about a nice house that I could pick up out of foreclosure for a great price. I checked it out. It was easily worth twice what I could get it for. Unlike most of the places I pick up in this manner this one appeared to be in pretty good shape.
I went ahead and bought the house. This can be a torturous process which can sometimes take months. I've been through it several times, though. In the process I've come to know the right people to see to get things done without dragging it out too long. And if the people I know can't help, well, I know people who know people. The more I do this the easier it's getting to be.
I finally got the deed to the house after almost a month. I still hadn't been inside. I normally wouldn't buy a house without looking inside or even hiring a professional to check it out. But the house is only a few years old and it has obviously been well cared for. I've been able to see enough through the windows to know that it's in good shape. After having the utilities turned on I picked up the keys and drove over to check the place out. I was curious to see how much work I'm going to have to do to get it ready to sell.
I walked around outside first. The yard work really needs to be done. The grass is almost half way up to my knees. But the house and the storage building in back are in good condition.
I unlocked the door to the large storage building in the backyard and was surprised at the amount of gear that the previous owners left behind. I discovered a large collection of expensive tools and lawn care equipment. They also left some very expensive sports gear, including two really high quality kayaks on an expensive looking trailer. Just casually looking around the inside of the building I estimated the value of the contents to be close to $20,000!
I finished my tour of the grounds and finally entered the house for the first time. I was surprised again at the large number of personal possessions still in the house. There were pictures on the walls and mementoes displayed here and there. They were the kinds of things that you would have expected the owners to take with them under any circumstances.
I started to get a weird feeling about this as I walked through the house. I was beginning to get the feeling that someone has been living here, even though the utilities have been turned off! Either that or the house is haunted.
I finished my tour of the first floor and went upstairs to look around. I was looking into the fully furnished bedrooms when I heard a sound coming from the door that led to the room over the garage at the end of the hall.
I quietly moved down the carpeted hall and listened at the door for a minute. I didn't hear anything so I carefully turned the knob and slowly pulled the door open.
I didn't see anything at first. Nothing except for another cache of personal possessions in stacks of boxes piled everywhere around the room. I was just about to back out of the room when I heard another noise. It sounded like someone trying to suppress a sneeze.
I called out, "Who's there?"
There was no answer. But now I knew for sure that I had an intruder. I pulled out my cell phone and announced loudly, "I'm dialing 911."
I started dialing. Just before I could push the last digit, a man and woman who were crouched behind one of the stacks of boxes jumped up. Even though I was certain that someone was in the room I was startled.
As soon as they showed themselves they began begging me not to call the police.
I stared in surprise, quickly evaluating my squatters. One glance told me they aren't dangerous. They don't look like bums or criminals. Nor do they look like typical squatters. They were a young man and woman in their early twenties. They were attractive and well dressed. They look like a couple of yuppies! The woman was crying and begging me to hang up my phone.
I didn't say anything for a few minutes. I finally came to my senses and asked, "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
They both started talking at the same time and I couldn't understand any of it.
I yelled "Quiet!" and they both shut up. I pointed to the woman and said, "You, go ahead, explain."
She was still crying quietly but she managed to explain that they are Glenn and Kara Elliot. This is their house, or used to be. They both had high paying jobs at the nearby GLT Electronics plant, until it went belly up. They lived on unemployment until it ran out and then they survived on their savings as long as possible while looking for new jobs.
When their savings started running out they tried at the last moment to sell their house. But it was too late by then. Their cars have been repossessed. Now they have no money, no jobs and no place to go for help. They can't even afford to put their belongings in storage. They have no immediate family they can contact for help. This town doesn't even have a homeless shelter. They have no place to go.
When she finally got to the end of her tale of woe I was speechless for a moment. It was a sad story but the fact that their life has imploded is their problem, not mine. Finally I said simply, "You can't stay here. You have to get your things out of here. I bought this house to resell. You have to move right away."
Now they were both crying. It made me very uncomfortable. I'm sorry. But I cannot have any respect or sympathy for a crying man, especially one who has let his family end up in this predicament to start with. He should have planned better. He should have done something besides wait until the last minute and then try to sell his house. He fucked up. It isn't my fault. Finally I told them to stop blubbering and suggested that we go downstairs.
We went down to the kitchen and I looked around. There was nothing in the house to drink. Not even coffee! Not that it matters. The water and power have been shut off for a while now. If they had coffee they couldn't have brewed it.
I wondered when these two last ate a decent meal. In the light from the kitchen window I took a better look at them. They're a cute couple. She's downright hot. I'd guess her age to be twenty-two, give or take a year. She stands about five foot even. She's very slender and quite curvy with what looks to be a very firm little set of B cups on her chest, a personal favorite.
I know my fellow males well enough to know that the average male is predisposed toward huge breasts. I suppose my summers spent working on a dairy farm as a teenager have something to do with my preference for the more petite. That sounds worse than I meant it to. I have nothing against women with large breasts. I'm as apt to turn my head to watch a big breasted female walk by as the next guy. But we all have our preferences.
She has a cute face. Even her posture is striking. She looks like she could have been a model. Maybe she's a little too short to be a professional model. But I can't imagine the people at Playboy would turn her down. She's that hot.
The husband appears to be perhaps a year or two older than his young wife. He looks like a real yuppie wimp. He gives me the impression that he's very much in touch with his feminine side, if you know what I mean. Not that he's gay. But no one is ever going to accuse him of being macho.
By the time we got downstairs they seemed to have more or less regained their composure. At least the crying has stopped for the time being.
I didn't know quite what to say. It was never my intention to become responsible for two human beings. I suppose that, like most people, I like to think of myself as a decent human being. But I have no intention of adopting a young married couple.
They started pleading with me not to make them leave, not to throw their belongings out in the street. They're sure that they can turn their lives around any day now. They pleaded for a little more time and promised to repay me and even make it up to me for the profit I'll miss out on by not reselling their house. They went on and on until it was embarrassing to watch. I finally shut out their voices while I pondered what to do.
As I deliberated, my eyes tended to wander the lithe young female form standing ten feet away, begging me to have pity on them.
If you will recall, I admitted in the beginning of this little narrative that I have a dirty mind and a strong sexual appetite. I spend a lot of long lonely evenings at home browsing through dirty stories on the internet. I enjoy it. But it isn't the same as having a life.
In the back of my dirty little mind I started to think that things are starting to come together. It occurred to me that I might be able to take advantage of this situation if I play my cards right. Standing before me are a beautiful young woman and her wimpy husband. They're helpless, destitute. I just might be able to turn this into a good thing, for me.
I asked them when they last ate a decent meal. They couldn't even remember how long it's been. They've been scrounging food from various sources just to subsist. I cut off the detailed explanation. I'm not really interested in all the gory details.
I told them that I might be able to suggest a way that they could get by until they were able to find gainful employment. But I promised them that they aren't going to like it. Then I invited them to join me for dinner.
They accepted, of course.
We got in my car and I drove to a nearby steakhouse that I'm fond of. It was early and the place had just opened for the day. It was nearly empty. I come here often enough that I know the hostess and many of the wait staff. The hostess greeted me warmly and seated us in a quiet booth. We ordered drinks and looked over the menu.
When my warped little mind had hit upon this scheme back at the house I thought that I might need to figure out how best to put this to them so that they would accept my ultimatum. I'm new at this sort of thing. I never thought I was the type of person to blackmail anyone. That's an evil thing to do and I thought I was better than that. I was wrong.
I thought it over all the way here and now, as I'm sitting here sipping my drink and looking them over, I realize I don't have to find a delicate way to couch my obscene proposal. In fact, I suspect that it'll be more fun to be blunt. And the direct approach will certainly avoid any possible misunderstandings. They'll be shocked, of course. But they seem intelligent. I don't see where they have any other options. They pretty much have no choice but to accept my offer.
We hadn't spoken a word to each other since we left the house. Now I began to tell them what I have in mind. "Okay, here's the deal. I just bought your house. Admittedly for a lot less than it's worth. That's why I bought it.
"You guys are in a hell of a fix. I feel sorry for you. But it's your problem, not mine. If I just let you live in that house it will cost me thousands. I'll be responsible for taxes, upkeep and utilities for a house I can't do anything with. Not to mention the interest on the mortgage."
I paid cash for the house. But they don't need to know that.
They were both staring down at their drinks, unable to look me in the eye as I told them how things stand from my perspective, laying out the groundwork for my offer.
"The way I see things," I continued, "there's only one thing you two can offer me. There is only one thing you have that is of sufficient value to make me consider letting you continue to live in my house. It isn't worth what it will cost me. But it's the only thing you have."
I paused for a minute and took a drink. Just then the waiter arrived and we ordered. As soon as the waiter left the table they looked up at me and waited for the bottom line. I honestly don't think they had a clue!
"The only thing you have to offer me is yourselves," I finally said.
I spoke in a calm voice, totally devoid of dramatics. I would have used the same tone of voice if I'd been telling them what day of the week it is. I am, after all, just stating an obvious fact.
I could see that they still didn't get it. I was becoming more amused as this dragged on. They truly are clueless, both of them; so naïve. It's really adding to my enjoyment.
I know what you're thinking. I must be a real asshole. But hell, I bet a lot of guys would do the same thing if they found themselves in my position. Or at least they would if they had the balls.
I didn't say anything for a few minutes. I just watched them and waited to see if either of them would finally realize what I'm proposing. Finally I chuckled and asked, "You two really are dense aren't you? No wonder you're hiding in a repossessed house and eating scraps!"
I've been fairly polite up until that point. My insults came as a bit of a surprise. But they just glanced at each other briefly and then looked down again. They were unable to look me in the eye, or refute my cold appraisal.
"The only thing you two have to offer me is yourselves," I repeated. "I believe I would enjoy having a couple of slaves."
When I said that their heads snapped up in unison! At last they began to understand what I've been suggesting.
"Here's what I'll do for you if you accept my offer, and what you'll do for me. I'll permit you to live in my new house and keep your belongings. I'll provide you with an automobile. Presumably you'll need one to continue looking for work and to do my bidding as well.
"I'll provide you with a subsistence allowance. It will be enough money to buy food and gas, pay your utility bills and purchase any other necessities. You won't be able to live the life of Riley on it."
"In return, you, both of you, will be my slaves. You will do anything and everything I ask of you. I will take great pleasure in using and humiliating both of you, both publicly and privately."
I gave them a moment to digest that. The look of absolute shock on their faces was priceless.
I continued, "If and when you finally find adequate employment, I'll sell your house back to you, at fair market value. That might not sound like a fair price to you. But I will have lost a great deal of money on you two, and received only amusement and sexual satisfaction in return."
They sat stunned. I could almost see the smoke pouring out of their ears as they worked to wrap their minds around my degrading offer.
I ordered another round of drinks. The food arrived and I guess they must have truly been starving. They ate ravenously, even though they just received what could only be the most shocking proposal of their lives.
It occurred to me that a bottle of wine might make the only decision that they can come to a little more palatable. So I ordered a bottle of my favorite. But I kept my eye on them. I want this decision to be a sober one.
I eat in this restaurant at least once or twice a month. The food is good and the service is great. I've become friends with the owner over the last few years. It was inevitable. We're a lot alike. I finished my meal quickly and decided that this would be a good time to go back to his office and have a talk with him. I wanted to give these two a chance to talk.
I got up and said to them, "I'm going to talk with the manager for a few minutes. I want your answer when I return. If you say yes you'll be my slaves, effective immediately, until such time as you're able to resume responsibility for your own lives. If you say no, I'll drive you back to my new house and you'll have tonight to remove your belongings and vacate the premises."
I went back to the owner's little office in the back and we talked for a while. As I said, we've gotten to be friends over the last few years. We play golf together when he can get away. We've been to a couple of baseball games. And we've played poker a few times, although his schedule rarely allows for it. He works most evenings.
Once we got to know each other pretty well we discovered that we also share an interest in porn. He enjoys it as much as I do and we began swapping movies back and forth when one of us stumbles onto something interesting.
It occurred to me that he'd get a kick out of the bargain I'm in the process of reaching in one of his booths. I didn't say anything, though. I decided that I'd better see how it turns out before I start trying to spread the joy. There's just the slightest chance that one or both of them will grow a spine and tell me to go to hell. I doubt it. But you never know.
After ten minutes I went back to my booth. I watched them as I approached. They were talking quietly but intensely as I walked up and sat down. They stopped talking as soon as they saw me.
I sat down as if I didn't have a care in the world and gave every indication that I thought their answer was a foregone conclusion. After a tense silence I asked them if they had reached a decision.
Neither one spoke. I gave them a moment and then I said, "I'm going to have to assume that means your answer to my proposal is no."
They looked at each other again. It's obvious that they've been arguing. I couldn't help wondering which of them had chosen which side of the argument to champion.
There was another tense pause before Kara looked at me and said in a quiet but steady voice, "We'll do it."
I'm beginning to think she has more balls than her wimpy husband.
"May I ask you a couple of questions?" she asked.
I was amused at the way she seems to have taken charge of their situation. I was also curious about what she would think to ask.
"Sure," I replied amicably. "I'm a nice guy. Go ahead."
"Are you going to hurt me?" she asked bluntly.
I paused, thinking of some of the things that turn me on but that I've never had an opportunity to try. Then I answered truthfully, "Some of the things that are done to you may cause you some pain. But there won't be a lot of pain and you won't be harmed."
"Will you do anything to make it more difficult for us to get jobs and get our lives back?"
"No, sweetheart. I'm looking forward to fucking you. And I'll be completely honest. I look forward to causing you and your wimpy husband a great deal of humiliation because it will amuse me to do so. I'm weird like that. But it's in my best interest that you resume your rightful place in the work force and get your financial affairs in order. Do you have any other questions?"
She shook her head. Wimpy little Glenn just stared at his drink and tried to pretend this wasn't happening.
Kara was sitting between her husband and me. Several feet of empty bench separated us. I patted the seat beside me.
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