Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)
Owning My Friend's Mom: EP5

"Oh, I beg to differ. These photos I think will tell quite a different story." Throwing one picture down at a time he began asking, "Does this look familiar? How about this one? What about this one where you're showing me your tits and cunt? Or this one, where you are kneeling at my feet, stroking my cock? I think these pictures will certainly corroborate what I am saying?" Letting it sink in for a minute, Greg then moved in for the kill. "What do you think your daughter will do when she replaces out what you've done? Or how about the pastor at church, the principal at Stacey's school, her teachers, your parents? Hmm? You think they'll understand?"

"Oh my God. How did you... when... why are you doing this?" she asked with a plaintive whine as panic began to set in. "Is it money you want?"

"Again, I've already told you what I want. You. I own you. You belong to me. You will do exactly what I tell you to do, without argument, or there will be severe consequences. Is any of this sinking in Anne?" he asked. "But why....?" she began again. She was terrified at what she was hearing, but also becoming very aroused on a purely physical level.

"Enough with the stupid questions already," Greg interjected. "I think it's pretty clear, from the stories you've been reading and the pictures you've been looking at, as well as how easily you were controlled last night, that this is something you need or perhaps even crave. I'm just happy to satisfy that craving for you. Now, I've already covered this. Either you do EXACTLY what I say, or I start sending these pictures to everyone in this town, including your daughter. The choice is yours. What's it going to be Anne?" Greg demanded.

"Please, nobody must know. This will destroy my daughter."

"Very well. But understand this. If at any time you decide to cancel our agreement, then this all becomes public knowledge. I will not tolerate any disobedience from you. If you disobey me or argue with me over any order given, then you will be punished - just like in the stories. Is that clear?"

Hanging her head in defeat, Mrs. Clark uttered a very quiet "yes." Despite the obvious wrongness of it all, she couldn't stop her body from responding to the situation and becoming more and more aroused with each passing minute. "Now, on to the first order of business. Since you've seen fit to disobey me, by wearing those clothes and by arguing with me, you are now going to be punished," Greg explained.

"But I didn't... you never said...." Mrs. Clark began to stammer.

"Shut up! I don't want to hear excuses, Anne. Or shall I add another punishment to the list for arguing with me now?" Greg pressed.

"No please, I'll do as you say," Mrs. Clark pleaded.

"Then take off those offending clothes now," Greg ordered. From the shocked look on her face, Greg figured she was preparing for another round or arguments, but to his surprise, she simply closed her mouth, hung her head in shame and began undressing in front of him.

When she had removed her pants and sweater, Greg took them from her and ordered, "The bra and panties too, Anne." Again, it looked as if Mrs. Clark was going to argue, but then thought better of it, and did as she was told.

Once she stood completely naked in front of Greg, he began to explain to her what he wanted her to do next. "You are now going to march upstairs to your bedroom dressed just the way you are." "But Stacey might wake..." she began to whine.

Cutting her off once again, "then you'd better walk quietly, hadn't you?" Greg replied condescendingly.

Continuing, "On the way to your room, you will knock on Stacey's door telling her it's time to wake up. Once you are in your room, you will head to the bathroom and will shave off all of the hair on your pussy. Are you getting this so far, Anne?" Greg asked.

Nodding her head, "yes."

"Good. Once your pussy is shaved clean, you will then dress in the shortest and tightest skirt you own and the tightest most see-through blouse you own. Got it?"

Another nod of her head.

"Then get moving," Greg ordered.

On wobbly legs, Mrs. Clark scurried out of the kitchen and began to tiptoe upstairs. Excuses began to run through her head, as she tried to come up with one that would make sense, were Stacey to come out of her room now and see her mother standing naked in front of her. Thankfully, Stacey was still asleep, and did not wake until Mrs. Clark had knocked several times upon the door. When she heard Stacey groggily respond, Mrs. Clark informed her it was time to get up and then sprinted the remainder of the way to her own bedroom, shutting the door as quickly as she could.

She stood with her back to the door for several seconds, as she tried to catch her breath and make sense of what was happening to her. Outwardly she knew what was happening was wrong, and for the life of her, she couldn't understand why she was complying. She knew she should be resisting. It felt like something inside of her was twisting her guts inside out. Locking the door, she walked unsteadily to her bathroom, grabbed her razor and cream, and, sitting upon the toilet, prepared to shave her pubic hair. It was with a start that she noticed her pussy beginning to dampen. Her mere touch was enough to send electrical shocks shooting through her pussy. This only added to the confusing emotions running amok within her. With a dizzy head, she applied the cream and began shaving her nether region, as delicately as she could.

As she made her final pass along the side of one of her pussy lips, she noted that her pussy was now soaking wet from her ministrations. The urge to masturbate was nearly overpowering, but something deep inside her told her to resist the urge, and with shaky resolve, she closed her legs and rose to get dressed.

As she stood in front of her closet, she contemplated the orders Greg had given her. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to put on panties and a bra, or just the blouse and skirt. Things were still a bit foggy for her. As she mulled this over, she had another shock, when she realized that she began to ask herself, 'what would please Greg?' to help her make her decision.