The Game - 18 In her own write

[Kay]

In Her Own Write

She was very confused. He had won the game but he hadn't done anything she had expected. He hadn't ordered her to undress, nor had he sent her to the playground to be stripped and maybe dressed outside.
Nor had he ordered her to kneel and undo his zipper...
Or bend over the couch and present her bottom...
Or...
Instead he had told her to go to the bedroom and change into her interview clothes. These dated from a period when she was going on a series of interviews and wanted to project a very sober, respectable persona. The outfit consisted of a plain black skirt of a respectable length, a plain white blouse with just a hint of decoration to keep it from being too severe and a pair of shoes with a one inch heel which screamed sensible.

It was a very proper outfit which properly accessorized was suitable for any occasion.
Almost any occasion, she reflected as she got it out. What it absolutely positively was not was erotic. Such clothing did not even suggest that there might be such a country. Some people, she knew, had fantasies of strict teachers, or governesses, but this outfit was even too plain for that. It was, she reflected, a bit conservative for some churches of her acquaintance.

She tried to imagine what he was planning as she undressed. She gave some thought to her underwear. He hadn't specified and for a moment she considered her most outrageous slutwear bra and panties. They would do something, if only by contrast, to redeem the outfit. But after a moment's reflection she decided against it. He had given no hint that such garments were part of today's program, and ad libbing might not be appreciated. She gave a shrug of resignation and put on her most sensible white cotton panties and bra. She finished dressing herself as directed. She pulled her hair into a bun, thinking, if he wants boring and mundane, he shall have it.

As she walked from the bedroom she kept wondering what the program would be. Would he have her dance for him? Strip? Well, stripping was fairly inevitable, but again...was this really the best outfit?
She paused at the door to the living room as instructed and knocked.


“Come in.”
She entered and saw him sitting at the table.
“Ah, Miss Smith, I'm glad the agency could send you at such short notice. Please sit down.”
All right, that was one question answered. It was to be an interview, hence her interview clothes. They had done role play occasionally, but not recently. As she waited to be told or to divine what her character would be she dropped a pretty curtsy before sitting. It looked slightly out of place, but he merely said,
“Ah, charming, I'm glad to see the agency is training its young ladies so well.”
Then he asked a few basic questions as she tried to work out where this was going. Basically it was based on so many interviews both of them had endured. A slightly bored, slightly superior sounding interviewer, asks tedious questions and makes notes. A slightly nervous interviewee tries to give the expected answers. Is this just going to become a Lecherous boss/Compliant secretary kind of thing? Not that she particularly minded the scenario, but still, after some of their games it seemed a bit...tame...? She began to regret not choosing her slutwear.

“Now stand up, let's have a look at you.” He stood and walked around her, hmmming and tutting to himself.
He stopped in front of her and said, “Please unbutton your blouse.”
She did so, but found her self slightly shocked. The interview had seemed so real that she had been somewhat lulled into that space. Then she thought, well now it begins...
He looked at the tops of her breasts and the plain bra and tutted to himself again, but didn't touch her.
“Is there a problem?” she asked shyly.
He didn't answer but asked her, “Tell me, what size are you?”
“Sir...?”
“Your breasts, what size are you?”
“Oh, ah, 34 or 35...”
“I see. And your cup size?”
“C...sir.”
“Hmmm...”
“Is...that a problem...?” she repeated.

Absurdly she found herself actually getting nervous, as if this were a real interview that seemed to be going badly.
“Well frankly,” he said, “we generally employ ladies who are somewhat... larger...”
He let the words hang for a moment and then said,
“However I think we may be able to work around the problem.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out two small bean bags.
“Here, put these in your bra” She took them and did as she was told. I think I'm blushing...
this is ridiculous...
He studied the result for a moment and then said,
”Try two more...”
She put them in, definitely feeling her blush rising.
“All right, that's better. Now remember to keep your blouse unbuttoned like that.”
Her breasts were pushed up, not as extremely as they had been when she was displayed, but they were very prominent.
“All right,” he said “On to the next item. Are you wearing panties?”
Again she felt a slight shock.
“Yes...yes sir I am...”
“Show me.”
She pulled her skirt up revealing the plain white cotton. As she did it she thought I can't be embarrassed by this! I've knelt naked and sucked him for hours! He took my clothes away for a week! I've...
“Very practical, I see.” All right, now surely he would...
But he made no move to touch her. That would have moved this to familiar ground. But instead she remained off balance.
“I didn't know what was required...” she finally stammered, half smiling, but he cut her off.
“Of course. Well, as it happen you won't need panties for this assignment. You may remove them.”
“Yes sir,” she whispered slipping them off. She felt a blush rising. So much for the non erotic costume. His impersonality and matter of fact , slightly formal attitude coupled with the outrageousness of his requests was definitely having an effect.
She stood before him as he returned to the table and wrote some more notes on his pad. Having received no direction she didn't lower her skirt, but he just kept on writing.
“Sir...?” she finally said.
“Hmmm?” He said looking up.
“May I lower my skirt... please...?”
“Hmmm? Oh, yes of course” He looked back down and continued to write.
After several more minutes he looked up with a small smile and said, “Well, that takes care of that. Let's show you where you'll be working.”
He stood up and indicated the way out to the playground.
“We've set up an area for you. Nothing fancy but it should contain everything you need...”
They turned the corner and she saw in the middle of the area a small desk and a straight backed chair. On the table were writing materials, pencils, pens, paper. A glass of water.

Ah, so it's come time to write lines, she thought... and then she remembered what else was part of that scene...
“You should have a nice long sit on it while you consider your behavior, “ he had said, referring to the penis dildo she had made. “I think that would be very good for you.”
She came around the table and looked at the chair seat. Sure enough affixed to the seat, sticking straight up, was a dildo. It wasn't one of her custom ones. This one was plainer and smaller. It was also, she noted, located toward the rear of the seat.

“That is not intended for my pussy, is it?”
“No. Today we will be addressing a... different location.”
It was smaller, but considering its intended destination it looked quite large enough to her.
So, she thought, I'm to lose my virginity.
Again.
She was thankful at least it wasn't one of her creations. She knew that girls in pornos regularly took ones that size, and indeed larger, but she was fairly sure that it was a skill which would require a certain amount of dedicated practice. They were, after all, professionals and she was in her own estimation merely a top rated amateur.

Seemingly answering her thoughts he went on,
“We like our girls to be entertained as they work. We have larger ones of course which are rather more realistic, but it takes a while, I understand, to become... accustomed to them.
Now if you would be seated?”
She approached the chair and carefully felt the object. It was soft, but firm and she could tell it had been well lubricated.
Well, the game was partly about facing fears...
She raised her skirt and he helped guide her as she slowly sat. She gasped as the final inch went in and she was sitting on the seat. As soberly and conservatively dressed as she was, apart from her semi exposed breasts, she felt more lewdly posed than she had facing the Mirror.
It didn't hurt, as she feared it might. It was just very, very strange...
And then the dildo buzzed to life.
“Aahhh...!”
“It will maintain a low hum constantly.” he said. “Occasionally, it will speed up for a few seconds. Never quite enough to bring about a climax, but it should help you achieve the proper tone in your writing. I believe it may perhaps do... other things as well...
Now I just have a couple of other adjustments to make.”
He knelt and secured her ankles to the chair legs. She wasn't spread as wide as before but she was definitely immobilized.
“And finally we must attach your wrists to these ties like so...You have a full range of motion, you will be able to reach anything you require on the table, but you will not be able to lower your hands and touch anything which you shouldn't. We have found that some of our young ladies become distracted and we would rather you concentrate on your work...”
Oh yes, she thought as the vibrator accelerated for a moment and then subsided. It was very nice bur didn't quite touch parts that she knew would very soon be demanding attention...

“And what am I to write?” she managed to gasp through another burst. “Do I have to write lines?”
Which was exactly what he said she should do.
Fifi occasionally had to write lines for infractions. One time after going over a knee it was “Fifi thanks you for the spanking.” 100 times.
And another time it was “Fifi adores being naked in the garden for hours.” 250 times.
And on one memorable occasion, after not performing orally quite as well as required the poor thing had to write, “Fifi enjoys the act of oral sex very much and would like to practice it more please.”
Fifi had to write that in perfect penmanship 1000 times. It took up almost half a notebook and many hours sitting in the garden over the course of two days.
And of course the little maid wasn't permitted to wear the dress until it was finished.
Or anything else.

She fully expected that her task today would be similar. At least I won't have to be naked in the garden.
But he said,
“No, we have a more creative project in mind.” He handed her a sheet of paper on which were written several lines.

The Game
The Game – penance
The Game – the ballerina
and several others.

“We want you to write an account of the game. How it began. How it has developed. These are suggested titles but of course you may come up with your own. We would like you to sit here and work for two hours a day for the next five days. If you find you need more time I'm sure we can extend the contract. Each time you finish, oh say three or four accounts, you will be rewarded with a slightly larger dildo. Won't that be nice?”
She was beginning to suspect it might be. She was already astonished that evolution had, for some unknown reason, blessed this area with such a quantity of nerve endings...
She considered his words. So she would be 'rewarded' with a larger one.
Which meant she would get to lose her virginity over and over again. How many times?
She looked at the list of titles. There seemed to be a lot of them. She counted twelve but thought, no that can't be right. There's that one and... oh definitely that one. So even if it were every four...
It looked as if she would be getting the opportunity of quite a few hours of dedicated practice indeed.
She had a feeling this was going to get very interesting. And that she would never be able to look at her interview clothes the same way.

“Sir, I have one last question, if I may?”
“Yes?”
When... I'm finished with my day's work... will I be allowed to masturbate?” she asked with a shy smile.
“Well...”
“I could let let you watch if you'd like...”
He smiled and patted her shoulder.
“If you do a good job I see no reason why not. And now I'll let you get on with it,” he said, and left the play ground.

So, the Game, she thought as the dildo hummed. She picked up a pen, thought for a moment, and then wrote,

The Game

Early one summer day she called out to him, "Come out here, I want to show you something."
"Do I need shoes?"
It was about 95 degrees already, the ground was hot and always spiky...

[ryanchew3]

Nice bringing it around, will there be more?

[Kay]

Probably not. Thank you for your kind comments.