index


Message-ID: <58164asstr$1223079025@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 03 Oct 2008 18:13:03 -0500
From: hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com (Hungry Guy)
User-Agent: Xnews/Y2K-SE
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} THE BOX {Hungry Guy} (M/F Mdom Fsub Fpov reluc oral ws caution)
Lines: 578
Date: Fri, 03 Oct 2008 20:10:25 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

{ASS} THE BOX {Hungry Guy} (M/F Mdom Fsub Fpov reluc oral ws caution)
By Hungry Guy (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com)

    Gail drove down the quiet suburban street on a Thursday evening and 
pulled into a driveway of a house that looked like a cookie-cutter 
image of all the others in the neighborhood.  She picked up her 
clipboard and glanced at the couple in the back seat of her car.  "This 
home is right in your price range, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.  It has a 
finished basement, and two large bedrooms."

    The woman in the back glanced at her husband and said "Looks okay 
from the outside.  What do you think, honey?"

    The man said to his wife, "I guess," then looked at Gail and said, 
"How many bathrooms?"

    Gail looked at her clipboard and said, "Two and two halves?"

    "Uhm," said the man, "It's been a while since elementary school but 
doesn't two and two halves equal three?"

    Gail laughed.  "Not in real estate.  It looks like it has full bath 
upstairs, a master bath off the master bedroom, a half bath on the 
first floor, and a half bath in the basement."

    "I'd like to see it," said the woman.

    Gail led her two customers to the front door and rang the bell in 
case the seller was home.  

    A geeky-looking guy in a _Starfleet Academy- tee-shirt opened the 
door.  

    "Hi!" said Gail holding out her hand.  "I'm Gail from Land Ho!"

    "Oh, yes," he said.  "Your office called me this morning and said 
someone would be showing my house to some buyers.  Come in."

    "Thank you," said Gail.  To the couple, she said, "Come on in."

    Gail let the buyers through the foyer and into the L-shaped living 
room.  Gail twiddled the dimmer switch and said,  "As you can see, the 
light over the dining table is controlled by a dimmer switch, to set 
the mood of the evening."

    "Mmm, hmmm," said Mr. Johnson.  

    "Can we see the kitchen?" asked Mrs. Johnson.

    "Right this way!" said Gail.

    "Uhm," said Mr. Johnson.  "It's wired for cable, right?"

    Gail looked at her clipboard, "Yes.  I don't think the seller would 
mind if we turned the TV on for a second."  She stepped across the room 
and turned on the TV, and the cable listings started scrolling down the 
screen.  

    "The kitchen..." said Mrs. Johnson.

    "The kitchen, "said Gail as she stepped into the kitchen, "has all 
new appliances, including a stainless steel side-by-side refrigerator, 
smooth-top electric stove, and dishwasher."

    Mrs. Johnson spent some time looking in the drawers and cabinets.  

    "You said it has two bedrooms?" said Mr. Johnson.

    "Yes.  Shall we go upstairs?"

    "Sure," said Mrs. Johnson.

    Gail led her buyers upstairs and stepped into one the master 
bedroom.  "See!  What a large bedroom!" said Gail.  

    Mr. and Mrs. Johnson walked through the bedroom and peeked into the 
master bathroom.   

    She then showed her buyers the main bathroom off the hallway and 
the second bedroom.

    "Very nice," said Mrs. Johnson.

    "Not bad," said Mr. Johnson.  "Can we see the basement?"

    "Sure!" said Gail, and led them back downstairs and then down to 
the finished basement.  

    "Oh, a medieval motif!" said Mrs. Johnson as she entered the 
recreation room that resembled an English pub with exposed beams and 
stonework.

The room was filled with odd-looking items of furniture, some covered 
with drop cloths.  The homeowner was sitting on a sofa reading a 
magazine.  Spider plants and other plants hung from heavy hooks bolted 
to the ceiling.  

    "Very nice!" said Mr. Johnson.  "A very cozy pub-like atmosphere."

    Mrs. Johnson stepped into the laundry room while Mr. Johnson 
explored the utility room.

    Gail walked over to the seller, "You must be the seller, Mr. 
Fredashay?"

    "Yes.  You can call me Ben."

    "Has it been on the market long?"

    "Just this past week," he said.   "A few people have been through 
it so far, but while I was at work.  This is the first showing when I 
was home."

    "So you're still packing up to move?" she asked.

    "Yeah, slowly."

    Gail laughed,  "I know how that is.  What is that for?" she asked 
pointing to a large wooden X mounted on the wall with eye-bolts at the 
ends of each of the arms of the X."

    "Uhm, It's just a piece of exercise equipment," he said.  

    "I see," she said.  And what is this thing?" she asked pointing to 
an, obviously, home-made 4' cube plywood crate with a two-piece padded 
top with a 6" hole in the center where the two pieces meet.  

    "Just a table," he said as his face turned red. 

    "Oh," said Gail imagining how such a table might be used and 
feeling herself getting wet down there.

    A little later, Gail was driving her buyers back to her real estate 
office.  "So, did you like that house?"

    "Yes," said Mrs. Johnson.  "It had such a beautiful kitchen, didn't 
it dear?"

    "Yeah!" said Mr. Johnson.  "I really liked that party room in the 
basement."

    "That was nice," said Mrs. Johnson,  "But I wonder what all those 
weird shapes were down there."

    "Oh, he's probably a sculptor or something," said Mr. Johnson.

    "But how do all those plants do so well in a basement room without 
any sunlight?" Mrs. Johnson asked.  "They couldn't have been there that 
long.  I wonder what he _REALLY_ used that room for."

    _Me too!_ thought Gail.

    After dropping her clients off at the office, she called the 
homeowner and asked to see the house again.  "As a Realtor," she said, 
"I'd like to examine the kitchen and closet space for the next 
showing."

    "Now?" he asked.

    "Whenever is most convenient for you," said Gail.  "How about 
tomorrow?"

    "Tomorrow is Friday, and I'll be at work all day.   Realtors have 
been bringing people through it all week while I'm at work, so I have 
no problem with that."

    "Good!" said Gail.

    The following day, Gail was in the house once again.  She walked 
right past the kitchen without even glancing in, and opened the door to 
the stairs and went down to the finished basement.  She stepped over to 
the crate and examined it.  The two-piece top was hinged on the edges 
and the two pieces lifted up easily.

    Inside, the bottom was padded with foam rubber, but lined with 
plastic--like, maybe, a plastic shower curtain.  She kicked her shoes 
off and lifted a leg up and stepped inside.  Kneeling inside it, she 
closed one of the top panels, positioning her neck in the half-circle 
that, curiously, was just the perfect diameter for a neck to pass 
through.  The panel didn't quite close down completely.  She tried to 
pull it down so that it would be flat and level, but it wouldn't fully 
close.  She flipped it open and over the side of the box and the pulled 
the other panel closed instead.  That one, too, wouldn't close all the 
way.  

    _Never mind then,_ she thought.  Rather than  forcing it and risk 
breaking it, she left it ajar. 

    Gasping, she felt herself getting wet.  _What if Ben came home 
early from work on a Friday and caught her messing with his dungeon 
furniture?_  Dismissing the thought, she lifted the panel and stepped 
out of the box.  

    She should leave now.  What purpose is there in lingering, she 
asked herself.  It's obvious what this box is.  

    She took a step toward the stairs.  Then she turned around.  It was 
still early.  Even if he left work early on this Friday, it was still 
the morning hours.

    She looked around the room again, and began to undress.  She 
removed her blouse and bra, and folded them neatly and set them in a 
chair where she had placed her shoes.  Then she pulled her skirt off 
and folded it on her other clothing.  Wearing just a panty, she 
hesitated, then removed that as well and placed it folded on the rest 
of her clothes.  

    _What am I doing?_ she thought as she felt her juices drip down one 
of her legs.  _Well, I'll get inside for just a few minutes, give 
myself release, then leave.  He'll never know I was here._

    She stepped inside the box again and closed that one top panel over 
again placing her neck in the half-circle.  Again, the panel wouldn't 
close down fully.

    _That's actually a relief,_ she thought.  _No way to get trapped._ 

    She imagined that, if both panels would close fully around her 
neck, it would look like her disembodied head were sitting upon a 
wooden table.  She then reached out and swung the other panel up and 
over.  She had to lift up slightly so that both panels would close 
around her neck.  

    With both panels ajar encircling her neck, she lowered herself 
slowly.  Knowing that the panels wouldn't close fully, she lowered 
herself carefully not to pinch her neck in the narrow neck opening 
formed by the two panels.

    She slowly lowered herself to the point where the panels had barely 
closed before, when she heard a distinct _CLICK!_

    The noise startled her and she flinched against the panel that held 
her down.  

    "Aaah!" she screamed involuntarily.  Her heart began pounding.  

She swallowed hard.  _They can't be locked. It's just nerves._  

She pushed the panels gently upward, but they were solidly in place.  

_   _No problem,_ she thought.  _I'll just squeeze my hand through this 
hole and find the catch._

    But there was barely a fraction of an inch of clearance around her 
neck.  She couldn't fit her hand through.

    She tried to swing her legs out from under her and press against 
the box with her feet, but the interior of the box was too cramped to 
get any leverage.  

    Panic set it.  She started pounding on the panels and the walls of 
the box with her fists, but the box was too solid, and the top panels 
latched too securely.

    _Shit!_ she cried.   

    Gail swallowed and tried to gain her composure.  _I'm in no real 
danger.  He'll be home later and let me out._

    She suddenly noticed her feminine odor wafting up through the gap 
in that neck hole.  Reaching down, she discovered that she was wetter 
than ever.

    She sighed.  _No time for THAT now._  She slowly felt all around 
the interior of the box for some interior catch or at lease a bolt or 
something to loosen.  

    After an hour, she had felt nothing but featureless wood and 
plastic inside the box.  On top of that, it was close to noon, and was 
getting hungry and thirsty.

    She swallowed and continued to search for some hidden interior 
latch.  eventually, her hand made its way down between her legs.  She 
was still soaking wet down there, and after a couple of hours she could 
feel a need rising inside her.  _Later,_ she thought, _if she ever gets 
out of this._

    After yet another hour, she was famished, and her mouth was so dry.   
On top of that, she had to pee.

    _What am I going to do?_ she cried.

By the next hour or so, she could no longer hold her pee in.  _I guess 
that's what the plastic is for,_ she thought as she let her pee flow.  

    She realized the she's going to be utterly humiliated when Ben 
comes home and finds her locked in his box sitting in a puddle of her 
own cold pee. 

    The hours passed slowly.

    When she finally heard the door upstairs open and footfalls on the 
floor above, she thought to call out, but she was afraid to.

    _He's going to find me here, sooner or later.  I ought to call out 
and get it over with already._  But she couldn't work up the nerve.

    Her dilemma was solved for her when she heard the door at the top 
of the stairs open a little later.  

    Their eyes locked together as soon as he came down the stairs.  

    "Hi!" said Gail as her voice cracked as much from terror as from 
dehydration.

    "Holy shit!" he said.  "You're that real estate lady."

    "Yeah," said Gail as she tried to swallow.  "Can you let me out?"

    Ben walked slowly over to the box.  She didn't like the grin that 
was on his face.

    "Please!" she said.

    Without a word, Ben began to undress.  

    Gail watched in stark terror as he pulled his tee shirt up over his 
head and tossed it aside.  

    "God!  No!" she gasped when he pulled his jeans down and Jockeys in 
one motion, letting his erect member flop out, pointing straight at 
her.

    Despite her dry mouth, she swallowed when he stepped up to the box 
and climbed upon it.

    "Please!" she whimpered.  "No!  Please don't rape me!"

    Without a word, he swung one leg over her head, straddling her head 
between his legs.  

    Every instinct inside her was telling her to scream, yet she 
remained frozen in panic as it all seemed to happen in slow motion.

Gail kept her eyes glued to his wiggling cock as he pinched her jaw 
open and wrapped his legs around the back of her head.

    _In a moment,_ she realized, _a man's cock is going to be in my 
mouth who I don't know from Adam.  A tear dripped from her eye, but 
that wasn't the only moisture emanating from her body.  Yet more pussy 
juices were mixing in with that puddle of piss she was sitting in.
  
    At that moment, his cockhead touched her lips.  An instant later, 
he squeezed her head with his powerful legs, forcing his cock down her 
throat, and pressing his hairy crotch against her face.   

    Immediately, her gag reflex kicked into overdrive.  His cock was 
squeezing past the back of her mouth and down her esophagus, and her 
throat muscles were instinctively trying to cough it back up.  He, on 
the other hand, just pushed the back of her head even tighter to his 
crotch, shoving his cock down a fraction of an inch deeper.

    The pain!  The pain in her throat was beyond incredible, and her 
lungs were screaming for air.  His cock was blocking her airway and she 
couldn't breathe.  He didn't seem to care that she had been holding her 
breath continuously for over a minute, and was feeling light-headed.  

    And then his cock started throbbing rhythmically in her mouth.  She 
knew he was coming--injecting his cum directly into her throat.  At 
least she didn't have to taste it.  

    And then he was done.  _Finally, the torture is over!_  His cock 
began to shrink, though he remained seated, still squeezing her head 
with his legs.  

    She felt him lean far over, twisting her head in his powerful leg 
grip as he did so.  Then she heard paper rattling.  She tried to look 
up, though with her face plastered to his groin and his hairy crotch 
filled her field of view.  He draped the newspaper in his lap resting 
against her forehead.  _Fuck!  He's reading a newspaper.  The fucker is 
reading a newspaper with my face glued to his cock._     

    At least Gail could breathe.  Still, even a soft cock is a fairly 
large chunk of meat to hold in one's mouth and she struggled to breathe 
slowly so that her gag reflex wouldn't kick in and put her in agony 
again.

    She sat there, reminded that she's still sitting in a puddle of her 
own piss from the odor that rose up through the crack around her neck.  
In fact, she had to pee again and couldn't hold it any longer.  Her 
fresh piss added to the stale piss from the morning simply enhanced the 
aroma. 

    Yes, she still so thirsty.  How long would she have to endure this 
humiliation, she wondered.  At that, her mouth began filling rapidly 
with water squirting against the back of her throat.  _Oh fuck!  He's 
pissing in my mouth!_ 

    Some dribbled out between her lips and his cock down her chin.  
Yet, she was so incredibly thirsty that she drank some of it.  

   Time passed as he continued to read the newspaper.  The taste of 
piss in her mouth occasionally threatened to make her puke, but she 
managed to hold it in.

    Some time later, he leaned over again and set the newspaper down.  
The TV then came on.  She didn't recognize the first show, _Max 
Headroom._  Based only on the audio and not able to see the show, it 
seemed to her to be some kind of detective story about computer 
viruses, but the main character was, himself, a self-aware computer 
virus.  Weird!  

    That was followed by _Star Trek: Starfleet Academy._  Though not 
much of a _Star Trek_ fan, her previous boyfriend was, and so she knew 
the history of the series from the original to _Next Generation_ and 
other spin-offs.  When they produced _Star Trek: Enterprise,_ their 
attempt at rewriting Trek "history" nearly killed the franchise.  But 
when they finally produced _Starfleet Academy,_ as fans around the 
world had been begging for years for, the franchise found a second 
life, or rather, a third life, for it was _Next Generation_ 10 years 
after the original that gave _Star Trek_ its second life.  

    Gail wanted to cry.  _How long is he going to keep me in this 
blasted thing and use my face like it was a fuck doll and urinal?_ she 
wondered.

    Wonder as she might, as the show drew to a close and a commercial 
came on, he began pumping her mouth again.  

    _Oh God!  No!  Not again!_  

    His cock swelled up once again, forcing itself past her throat, as 
it slid relentlessly in and out and in and out.

    Again, Gail couldn't restrain her gag reflex, and her body started 
bucking out of control as her gag reflex tried in vain to expel the 
massive object from her throat.

And again, after about a minute as she was on the verge of passing out, 
his cock began throbbing and pumping cum directly into her throat.

Finally, his cock shrunk one again and he squirted a few last drops of 
post cum onto her tongue before sliding back and pulling out of her 
mouth.

    Gail immediately went into a wild fit of coughing and spitting. 

    "That what you wanted?" he asked her, but she couldn't reply as she 
struggled for a full minute or two to catch her breath.

    She then swallowed hard and met his gaze.  Her hand, however, was 
down between her legs dipped in the puddle of piss that she was sitting 
in.  She was still as wet as ever down there.

    "Can you let me go now?" she asked.  Without thinking, she blurted, 
"I promise I won't tell anyone.  I mean, I had no business being here 
and messing with your things and locking myself in.  You had every 
right to use me the way you did for what I did.   But I have to show a 
customer a house tomorrow morning.  That's my livelihood!  I can't miss 
it!  Please!  So no hard feelings, okay?"  

    "No hard feelings," he said in a slow monotone voice.

    "That's right," she said.  "We both had fun, and nobody will ever 
know what we did tonight.  I promise.  Okay?  So I can go, right?"

    "Do you really keep a promise?" he asked.

    "Of course!" she said, visibly miffed that anyone would question 
her honesty.  Again, the words just poured from her mouth in sheer 
panic without thought.  "I know what everyone says about car 
salespeople.  But the Realty business is different.  In this business, 
honesty is absolutely essential.  I couldn't sell if my word can't be 
trusted."

    "Okay," he said.  "You promise to come back tomorrow after your 
showing, and I'll let you go."

    "Come back?" she gasped.  "And what?  Be put back in this, uh, box 
again?"

    "Yes," he said.

    Gail fingered her wet pussy.  That touch triggered such a powerful 
orgasm that she couldn't control herself as her whole body quaked and 
throbbed.  Her shoulders banged against the undersides of the top 
panels as her body went into auto-pilot.

Panting and sweating when she finally regained control of her body, she 
met Ben's gaze again.  His arms were crossed as he stood there with a 
big grin on his face.  

    Gail struggled to get the word out.  "Yes," she said.  "I'll come 
back tomorrow."

    Ben reached down and unlatched the top, adding, "And come on an 
empty stomach, so you'll be hungry and thirsty, too." 

    "Okay," said Gail, who and then collapsed again as pins and needles 
shot through her legs.  

    "Help me," she whimpered.

    "Sure," he said.  Pointing to the bathroom off the recreation room, 
he said, "You can take a shower before you go if you want."

    She wanted to just leave in the worst way, but she was drenched in 
her own piss from her crotch down.  "Okay," she said.

    He said, "You should have put an adult incontinence diaper on 
first, you know?"

    "Oh?"

    "Yeah," he pointed to a package on a nearby shelf.  "They're right 
there."

    "I'll remember that," she said.

    Dripping piss, Gail stepped into the small bathroom off the 
recreation room and took a long needed shower.

    Shortly later, fresh and dry, she stepped out into the recreation 
room.

    Feeling self-conscious at being naked in front of a total 
stranger--well, a total stranger whom she just spent the past few hours 
sucking on his cock and drinking his cum and piss--she was strangely 
relieved that he was also still naked.

    He smiled and handed her folded clothes to her.  She took them and 
started dressing.  He did so along with her.

    Finally, in her car, she breathed a sigh of relief.  It was dark 
and in an unfamiliar area, but that's part of a real estate agent's job 
and her GPS knew the way home.  

    The following morning, she showed a young couple a small townhouse 
in the historic center city area.  She was strangely relieved that they 
didn't want to make an offer.  Sitting in her office, she finished up 
some paperwork.  

    One of the other agents popped her head in Gail's office.  "Morning 
Gail!"

    "Morning, Barb!" said Gail.

    "Everything okay?  You seem a little on edge, and you didn't touch 
any of the bagels or doughnuts that the broker brought in for those of 
us who have to come in on Saturday mornings."

    "I'm fine," said Gail.

    "Not even your usual cup of coffee?" said Barb in a voice of 
concern.  "Did those buyers you took out this morning make problems for 
you?"

    "They were okay," said Gail.  "Really!  I'm just not hungry."  Then 
she smiled and looked down to continue her work.

    Gail wasn't sure what she wanted to do.  Should she keep her 
promise and go back to Ben's house and be _USED_ again as a fuck doll.  
Or should she just go home and forget it ever happened.  To his credit, 
he _DID_ let her leave when she was certain she would dead momentarily 
at the hands of a kinky serial killer.  And then she could have easily 
have driven straight to the police from his house, but she didn't.  

    She reached down with one hand under her desk and under her skirt 
to feel her soaking pussy, while her other hand fondled her car keys.  

    Shortly thereafter, Gail rang a doorbell in front of a house that 
was for sale.  Despite wiping off her legs before she got out of her 
car, her juices were dribbling down her legs as she stood there at the 
door.

   "Hi Ben!" said Gail when the door opened.  "Your fuck toy has 
returned."

   * END * 


-- 
Hungry Guy
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/HungryGuy/www
http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?name=Hungry_Guy
http://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=171541
http://www.bewilderingstories.com/bios/hungryguy_bio.html
http://www.ruthiesclub.com/members/archives/author.php?a=167

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+