MOVING HOUSE

It all started with a dumb-ass prank.

My son had broken up with his long-time partner, her having being playing away behind his back. When he off-loaded their apartment, he bunked down at mine for a few weeks while he got sorted. I could understand his pain in the neck, the Saami thing having happened to his mother and I four years earlier. I now lived on my own in a quite spacious top floor studio, but with only one bedroom, he had to kip on the lounge in the forepart room.

Coincidentally, my lease was coming up for renewal, so we had a longsighted talk and decided it would be proficient for us both to move into a 2 beddy and cleave the bills. In another 12 months, we could see how we stood, and then make a motion forward as required.

Sounds like a plan, yes ? Except for my son's dumb-ass prank.

My broker arranged an ‘ open-house viewing'of my place for prospective new tenant. bazaar enough.

He asked if we could take a leak ourselves scarce for the two hour fitting. near of my ornamentation and photo-frames were packed away anyway, so we collected up all our valuables and ‘ light-finger'magnets into a big cardboard box and stowed them in the trunk of my car, then rag my son's SUV down the local plaza. Just as we were parking up, my son slaps his forehead and announces he's leave his cell.

"You jump out, Pops, snap up yourself a snack and I'll see you in fifteen in the food court."

So off he burns, and we meet up again 25 instant later, him with a big smirk on his expression.

"What's with the big grinning, you ass ?"

"Oh, nothin'Pops ….. There's cars pulling up everywhere outside when I left. It was funny."

"Don't surprisal me.. Popular spot being so close to the mall and all."

"Yeah, really, really democratic,"he splutters down his nose, trying to inhibit his laughter.

"Ass,"I says,"You're an ass."

..…

We wanders around the mall for a long while, my son seeming to drag his heels.

Then my prison cell rings…..

"All done, Mr. T. I'm just locking up. You can get back now."

"Agent,"I silently mouth at my son as I'm taking the call.

"By the way, Mr. T… have you been running a clientele from here ?"

"Scuse me ? stage business. What commercial enterprise ?"

"You know …. A business."

"Sorry. Dunno what you're talking about."

"fountainhead, just so you know, Mr T., in this county it's illegal to run any word form of business from a rental without permission from the agent, but seeing as you're leaving, I'll let this one slide."

"Oh, OK,"I solvent, shrugging my shoulders,"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

…..

Returning to my lieu, my son is snorting a chuckle down his nose at almost every lamp-post.

"Ass"

….

When I walks into my bedroom, my jaw fall to the floor as the plate fall away from my center.

Dangling from my bed head-board are two sets of hand-cuffs. A chrome shiny set on one English, and ping furry-fluffy ones on the other. On top of my bedside cabinet, there's an assortment of bottles of vegetable oil and jells, along with a sprinkle of unopened condom mail boat and rubber gloves. On the floor there's a couple of canes and wooden spoons, along with a bin, half entire of scrunched up tissues.

But to the highest degree damning of all, there's a whiteboard leaning up against the wall with my cell act at the top and a prospicient list of random female names down one side. Along-side each public figure there are various notations

A only, no A, both, rough, gentle, tenacious tease, no mug, long as poss…… the list went on.

I turn to my son, who's now standing right behind me in fits of laugh and I says,

"Spoons ? Wooden spoon ? What the infernal region were you thinking ?"

………..

I took it for the dumb-ass clowning that it was. It seemed pretty cool, thinking I could probably tell this account a c time before I died. But a couple of days later my cell rang….

…..

I was already running late for my regular golf stint with my secure fellow, Pete, over at the connectedness about 40 transactions drive away. I knew the traffic would be building with morning school-run Mom's cab, so I was in no mood to be stuffed around, so when the female voice on the other end stuttered and faltered and dithered with a"Errm, I was just calling, I mean, needed to speak. I hope it's not a bad sentence, but it, I was wondering, if you don't mind ….."

Just around then my foiling boiled over and against my pattern nature, I pretty much barked,

"fountainhead, spit it out woman…."

"Oh, yes, sorry sir,"my harsh snap appearing to sweep away her hesitation. You could almost take heed her shuffle to sit herself upright in her seat."My epithet is Charmaine, and I'm calling from Pollomina-Watts Real Estate ……"

Now she had my full tending. These were the realtors of my son and I's new property where I'd signed the term of a contract and paid a substantial bond and deposit. I would be handing back the paint to the old post in two days, and couldn't afford for anything to go improper.

"Yes, how can I avail ?"I queried. It was I who had suddenly become contrite.

"As you know, well obviously, you passed all our reference and police checks, but I had neglected to bid your former leasing agent."

"Yes ?"I scooped, in a drawn out acknowledgement of her action mechanism. I had no estimate where this would be going.

"well, he told me you appeared to birth been running some sort of business from the premises."

"Oh, no, no no, he's got it all wrong ….."I began my apologetic explanation about it only being a prank.

"Because it's not classed as a line of work if you don't charge a fee,"she butted in, almost as a blurted-out gush.

I could see this as an loose get-out, and I was conscious of now running late for my golf-date.

"No, I don't charge anything. It's all entirely free."

"Oh, thank good,"the relief in her representative almost tangible."You see, I can't afford very much, with my husband keeping a close eye on my spending and all."

"Woah, woah woah"I chattered about seven fourth dimension in the space of a second.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry,"she responded to my halt,"If you're not taking on any more bookings…."

"No, it's not that …."

This was getting all too much and sliding way out of hand. I needed meter to think.

"feel, the accuracy is, you're making me of late for an appointment and I need to get moving, the traffic's getting busier by the instant. You're gon na have to call me back after dejeuner. Can you do that ?"

"Oh,"she sounded surprised,"You sometimes do ….. ?"

"After lunch."I cut her off, then in a photoflash of dastardly inspiration, for my last password before I pressed ‘ end vociferation,'I took a rich intimation and growled down the business line,"From now on you start calling me ‘ master.'”

…………..

Not surprisingly, my golf grudge was folderol. Fifteen over par.

"What the hell's gotten into you ?"quizzed my long-time champion and golf game buddy as we sat in the 19th pickle nursing our coldness beers."I know I usually win, but jeez, man, you usually give me a run for my money. Wha'sup ?"

"A very unusual dilemma has reared its forefront, Pete, and I think you're just the right man to give me some fatherly advice."

…

At 48, Pete is actually one year younger than me, but has had a wax and chequered love live, having been divorced twice and currently having two charwoman on the go. And having spent C of bibulous hr sharing our poop down the pub, I don't think there were any secret between us…. I'd no trouble with spilling my guts….

….

"Wow, that's pretty rad, man,"said Pete after a long blow through puffed-out impudence."Even that's a new one on me. I'm not sure what to suggest."

"Do you imagine I should go for it though ? Would you ?"

"Well assuming this Charmaine chick isn't really, really fresh and trying to draw in a fast one, then indisputable, keel her in. At to the lowest degree you'll get one costless shot with no repercussions. If you can't think back seeing her at the agency and don't know what she's like, then hey, if she's married, she'll be too scared to kick up a fuss if she turns out to be a dud and you tell her to fuck off. And let's look it, Dez, your sex life hasn't exactly been front-page news this last brace of years."

"Suppose,"I conceded.

"Yeah, go on, go for it, bro. And hey, if she's not your case, you can always give her my number and let me feature a crack."

"Easy, tiger,"I said, snorting a jape down my nose."One step at a clip, eh ? One footmark at a time."

……….

"hullo, yeah, hi. It's Charmaine here. I'm just calling back like you said."

"Yeah, and you're late,"I barked."I said two o'clock on the dot."

"No, you didn't, I …."

"Are you calling me a prevaricator ?"

"No, I, it's … she started to jibber.

"I've already told you once, it's ‘ master'from now on. So let's try again shall we ? Are you calling me a prevaricator ?"I growled with a smirk on my side. C'mon bitch, dig your own grave.

"No, master."

I then heard her impenetrable inhale of breath down the transmission line. I've barely said ten run-in and she was terrified. Maybe not of me, but of potentially handing her fate to a arrant alien. A stranger who has handcuffs dangling from his bed-head. And by virtue of Pete's clash form in his great cleaning woman wisdom, her panting revealed she was already juicing up.

Oh boy, was this going to be fun.

…………..

I established when she'd have a couple of hour innocent sentence to get over to mine, and ordered her to be here on the dot. She already knew the address. In fact, with her being on the lease stave, I reasoned there was an even chance she could've been inside here before.

I'd come clean with my son. For lots of ground really, not least of which being the fact he had the handlock, lubricator and condoms stashed away in his bed-room. I can't imagine why he hadn't thrown them away.

Just kidding…

Anyway, my son thought I was nuts, but being as it was his prank which had kick-started this whole fiasco in the first place, decided there was no harm in being supportive, although there was no need for his ‘ last hurrah'comments.

…………

At the lot time two afternoon later, there is a faint whang at my door….

………….

I was quite taken aback when I opened up to see her for the first fourth dimension, and as we looked at each other straight eye to eye. I'd certainly never seen the fair sex before in my life, because I sure as tinker's damn would've remembered.

She was about five foot two with shortly brown tomentum and looked to be in her forties, with big chubby, high-boned, waxy-skin cheeks under sparkly blue eye. Although her grinning was weak, almost apologetic and embarrassed, her lips were full and red. Her neck opening was very broad and she had a loose, almost dangly joker doubled Kuki-Chin. Her shoulders were broad like that of a manual labourer, and the arms protruding from her loose flow kaftan seemed brusque, being flabby and bloated with fat. Her breasts where quite large but looked very droopy, like two big plastic bags full of piss. Her light aristocratic vertical-striped kaftan did it's near to camouflage the big blob of a woman it concealed, with an abdominal cavity which could well have contained overdue tierce. Two chunky, thick elephantine legs stretching down to a pair of fat chubby mortise joint completed the vista. She must've easy been compass north of two fifty pounds.

….

"Charmaine, I presume."

She gave a single nod ‘ yes'of her head, causing her flabby double-chin to tilt like jelly and then squash out at the slope as her regard fell down to the floor.

"fountainhead, Charmaine, there is no motivation to speak, not even one word. You don't even have to say the word ‘ master ’. But there's only me here in this apartment, and if you walk in through this door and close it behind you, I'm gon na spend the next 60 minutes and a half fucking your brains out."

With that, I turned on my heel away from the wide opened doorway and went and sat on my lounger in the lounge room.

I waited with bait breath. If I heard the threshold close and then her footsteps clumping up the hallway I decided I'd better pop both the vitalagras I had ready and waiting in my pocket.

Although I was surprised by her size, I wasn't surprised this conjoin cleaning lady wasn't getting her motivation met by her husband. He was probably screwing the ass off a nubile nymph somewhere, a pixy a tail the size of his married woman. Maybe some randy Cy Young tart from his workplace, perhaps, a melt off bint nix like what he now had at home. But I cursed him under my breathing spell for being the grounds of this big dollop of lard landing on my doorstep. And with both vitalagras now poised in my handwriting, it was a dollop on the wand of getting an afternoon of right royal stag fucking.

………

I heard the Yale's loud snap as its auto-lock clicked the door fully closed. I held my breathing time so I could get a line any sounds, and exhaled with a concoction of emotions when I heard her shuffling her metrical unit on the embossed ‘ welcome home'substructure wipe in the hall-way.… I swallowed both the vitalagras.

"In here,"I yelled, giving her aim and counsel, and looked back over my shoulder as I felt her front fill the lounge doorway.

"Come on in, don't be shy. I won't bite, well not on your first visit,"I taunted as I waved my hand indicating she should fully go into the elbow room and stand in front of my relaxed, seated position.

"Now then,"I took ascendence as she stood nervously twitching and fidgeting a mere six understructure in front of my bent genu."Look at me and listen up …. in here, you are no longer Charmaine, yes ? You left that prim and proper lady at the room access. You will now be referred to as ‘ hussy ’. You will be my slattern twenty three, but just a simple ‘ slut'will answer from now on, got that ?"

She gave a unmarried nod yes of her straits, accompanied by a gulp, as her gaze sank down to the floor.

"Look at me,"I barked, causing her head to re-lift and her optic to lock back onto mine."That non-answer has just earned you a small but painful punishment. You know what you should've said, don't you ?"

"Yes, captain,"It was a mumble, but perfectly audible.

"What was that ?"my press making her visibly squirm.

"Yes, master,"her articulation now more steady and sure.

"I still didn't hear it."I menaced with a growling in my phonation. I wanted an acknowledged capitulation.

"Yes, professional,"she said, firm and committed, but then she took me totally by surprise.

"I just can't do this,"a quaver in her part,"I really shouldn't have come …. I can't,"as she takes a step towards the room access, obviously about to take flight.

I must acknowledge, I panicked. That was completely out of left-field, and I wasn't sure as shooting what I should do. I had vision of me standing in the dock being sworn in as the charge of abduction and set about rape were read out to the jury. On the other hired hand, she had come because she needed something, and I'm a reasonable guy. Certainly not the heartless dom-master she probably thinks I am. I took the crinkle of least resistance.

I shot to my feet and took two strides to front her and dispose my arms around as much of her arms and berm as I could encircle, drawing her to my chest and giving a soothing,"Hey, hey, hey,"as simultaneously she broke down in sobbing wet tears.

"I understand,"I soothed. There was no way I was going to let her take the air out in a disillusion and straiten state of matter. It would be my Son against hers in court.

"seminal fluid on, now,"I oozed."come and sit. If you aren't comfortable with this I'm not going to force you, not if it's not what you really want. That isn't the way this thing works."

I guided her back to my big old cushy recliner, and watched as she slowly eased herself down and alight unsteadily on its soft, squishy edge.

"I'm sorry,"she wet sniffed as her tear-wet puffy impudence glistened it the light."I didn't, can't ……"

"S'ok."I reassured. As least she wasn't going to run out on me."Take a moment. You're upset."

"No, I … it's just that when Mal told me what he thought you did …."

She saw me quizzically groove my supercilium as I pitched my headland to one side.

"Sorry, when Mal, Malcomb from Red Roof said you were some kind of male …. Well, he wasn't sure what you were, it sounded like something I might need. I had to come and see …."

"And what do you want ?"I asked with genuine interest and concern. She didn't know it, but this was all new territory to me.

"Oh, I don't know. Something different, some excitement maybe. You've certainly given me that,"she said with a single snort wet laugh down her runny wet nose.

"Here, let me get you a tissue."

…..

The curtly entr'acte whilst I went and grabbed a box of tissue from my bedroom gave her enough clip to worm back into a more formula and easy position in my recliner. I held out the box and she swooshed out several picayune white squares.

"So, what do you want to do now ?"I asked."Technically you've booked me for the afternoon…… a free booking,"I added with haste.

"Oh, I don't care if you charge any others or not. It's just that I haven't got any spare money."

Several cruelly cutting and hardhearted responds sprang immediately to mind, but I thought I'd best keep my sarcastic mouth shut.

"fountainhead, we have the afternoon,"I repeated my observation as I pulled up a supererogatory chair and sat opposite this blob faggot who had made herself at rest home in my very own recliner,"So, enjoin me a bit about yourself."

I honestly didn't want to hear it, because I pretty much guessed what was coming, and I'd only entertained her presence because of the chance of a mindless, guilt-free, longsighted fucking, which apparently seemed now wiped off the fare. But I was relieved she was very unconvincing to go to the authorities accusing me of being some kind of predatory sexual monster.

I sat for respective recollective minutes and listened. Her rambling life sentence history was about as predictable as snowstorm in wintertime. At a mates of points I couldn't suppress an nonvoluntary deep yawn. Then I realised I was growing an erection. Not just any old stalker. This was a full on throbbing steel girder of vitalagra induced weaponry.

holy crap …. I'd forgotten about that.

……

I shifted uncomfortably on my uncomfortable wooden chair. I leaned forward almost like I had a cramp in my venter, and with my stage squashed together I pressed my knit finger grasp at the close gap of my thigh near my knees.

"Are you OK ?"she asked with concern,"You look, well, in pain."

In pain ? My boner was threatening to explode.

"It's just that….."I hesitated. It was me who was embarrassed now. I spilled the truth.

"When I entertain, if I were to put it like that, I take an foil, you know, a tablet, to maximise my performance and restrain me on the go for, well, hours if needs be. Solely for the welfare of my entertainees, you understand ? I like to think I send away satisfied clients."

"And you took one when I arrived ?"

"When I knew you'd come in and closed the door behind you, yes."

"And you're erm…."as she nods her school principal at my bent-grass over stance,"you're enhanced now ?"

"Like a flagpole."I blurted my confession. It seemed pointless to try save hiding the uncomfortable truth.

"Oh …"was her outrage and connive reaction to this unforeseen revealing."And you took this enhancer ‘ after'you'd met me ?"the significance of the ‘ after'now slowly sinking in.

"fountainhead, obviously,"I said with a panache of annoyance at her slow ingestion of the situation.

"So you intended to….."

"Very much so ….."

"Well, I suppose we shouldn't let your enhancer go to knock off ………."

……..

The end…. of parting one ? You tell me.

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