Subordinate

Diane’s house was a breathtaking sight from any angle. It wasn’t a mansion by size, but careful planning and the castle-like appearance made the place look considerably larger than it really was. While her parents toured Europe each summer Diane was left to her own entertainment. Luckily for me, her idea of ​​a fun time included a very specific role-play. The high brick walls surrounding her yard broke only for a forgotten-iron gate, which I’d never actually seen closed. After parking my car in the long driveway I grabbed a large bag of “supplies and padded as quietly as possible through the front door. Diane knew I was coming; she’d never be caught unprepared.

Sure enough, a hiss of air broke the silence in the huge house as soon as I’d entered. A small, red splotch appeared on the wall next to my groin and I heard Diane giggle from somewhere above. Part of our agreement was that Diane’s first shot against the “intruder” didn’t count. After that, however, my fee went down by tenpercent each time one of the painful little paintballs hit me. As much as I enjoy my time with Diane, a dom has to make a living somehow!

I dropped my bag by the door and sprinted for the back of the house before the girl could get another shot off. There was another staircase off the kitchen, but soft footsteps from above gave Diane away. If I came up the kitchen stairs I’d get pegged for sure, which Mean a hell of a sting in addition to lost income. Instead, I slipped quietly out the sliding glass door and looked up one of the second floor balconies. The patio furniture gave me plenty of height to leap for the balcony base. From there I pulled myself hand over hand up the iron railings.

The door to the bedroom was open, of course.

It was almost disappointing to see how easily I could take her. Diane had dragged a couch out of the upstairs rec room and was kneeling behind it, arms extending over the back while her long, blonde hair swung loosely past her waist. Shewas dressed in a bright red bikini and the sight of her barely-covered ass gave me a great idea. Sneaking up silently, I slide my belt out of its loops and flicked the end out to pop her on the rear.

Diane yelped in surprise and jumped, dropping her gun in the process. I laughed and grabbed the girl before she could run; experience had taught me that Diane was pretty damn good at this game. Bending her over the couch, I reached down to pick up the paint gun. I almost got a faceful of skull for my efforts, as Diane rammed her head back towards mine. Swearing at my own clumsiness, I pushed the girl down harder over the back of the couch.

“Want to play rough, hm?” I asked, putting my weight directly on the small of her back.

“Get out of my house!” Diane screamed, and if she hadn’t hired me herself I would have sworn she means it. There had to be some way to stop her from squirming.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea!” Another thing I’d learned early on was that talking out loudwas a good way to keep the girl distracted. Left to her own thoughts Diane would poorly think of some way to make my job painful for the wrong person.

“My parents are coming home, and my–ouch!” The threat cut off sharply when I tugged at her hair and tied it quickly to the banner alongside the stair. Avoiding her kicks, I stipped off the flimsy bikini bottoms. This done, I grabbed the gas-powered pistol and backed away. Diane reached immediately for the knot in her long tempers.

“Let’s see how many shots are left in here!” I called cheerfully. Taking careful aim, I plugged one small ball of paint directly onto the beautiful tanned globe on the left side of Diane’s ass.

That paint must have stung because Diane nearly left straight over the couch. “How many is that?” I asked.

Diane’s hands had left her hair and were clapped to her backside. I fired again, nailing a wrist and encouraging the girl to not try and protect herself.

“I can’t hear you! How many?”

“Two!”

Grinning, I sent two more singing pellets at her thighs.

“Two, what?”

“Two, sir!” she screamed, alternate between rubbing at the wounded spots and protecting her hands from the line of fire.

“Two? I was counting, and that was definitely four! Maybe you need some more practice with your math?” I unloaded three more in quick succession. This was starting to get fun!

“Five, six, seven, sir!” she cried, adding an “eight” as a bright splatter appeared on the back of her calm.

“Damn,” I said. “Looks like I’m out of bullets.” I waited until the muscles in the girl’s back and butt had relaxed, then sent the final shot winging at her.

“Just kidding!” I called as she jerked upright, halting suddenly When her hair went taut. I tossed the empty weapon into the bedroom.

My captive’s ass and thighs were covered with red dye when I untied her hair from the banner. She pouted, beautiful lips downcast beneath her pert nose. Iignored the act, fully aware that that alluring face hid a conniving mind. Tugging at her hands, I reached into a back pocket and produced a set of handscuffs. When Diane’s wrists were safely linked I marched the girl downstairs.

“They key’s in my pocket,” I told her. “So don’t even waste time thinking about getting out.” At that moment, a shrink ring pierced through the house.

“Oh, shit!” excerpted Diane.

“What time is it?”

“Three thirty,” I said, suspicious. The phone rang again.

“I’ve got to get that! My parents said they were going to

call this afternoon; I just expected it’d be earlier!”

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

“I’m serious! If they don’t get an answer, they’re going to

think something’s wrong!” A third ring.

“Forget it.” I jerked Diane toward the living room.

“You get it, then!” I looked at her curiously; the girl was

beginning to sound frantic.

“You parents won’t find it strange that a guy answers?”

“Christ, just says you’re the pool boy and that I ran out for a

minute! I’ll wait here, I promise!”

Shaking my head, I left the handcuffed girl at the bottom of the stairs. She should be secure; the key really WAS in my pocket. On the fifth ring I answered the phone in a small study.

“Hello?”

“Oh, good!” came a woman’s voice. “I was starting to think

there was nobody there!”

“Who is this?” I asked, not sure that I wanted to hear the answer.

“This is Anne! Diane said to call at three thirty and tell Mr. Travel that he’s a real dork!”

Cursing, I dropped the phone back in its cradle. The handscuffs were lying on the lowest step, extra key protruding mockingly from the hole. Diane had definitely Thought ahead on this one. Grabbing my bag, I slipped quickly into living room. Diane would definitely have more guns hidden somewhere, and our deal remained in effect as long as I was there. Rummaging through my bag, I found alarge, thin paddle with a number of large holes drilled through it. My client in Austin love this toy; she called it “Mr. Stingy”.

The kitchen was empty, as was the living room and bath. I didn’t remember hearing Diane retreat up the stairs so I ran in that direction myself. A quick search of the second floor rooms revealed no half-naked blonde, so I cautiously peered out an bedroom window.

The back yard appeared empty but I knew that there were ample hiding spots back there. The trees even obscured part of my view of the swimming pool. Staring hard at the diving board, however, I could just make out a slight red tinge in the water.

With paddle in hand I descended the back stairs quickly. She would probably expect me out the kitchen door, I realized, so I exited the front and ran Quickly around the side of the house. The paint started flying as soon as I rounded the corner; luckyly, Diane wasn’t much of a marksman. Rolling behind a large bush, I looked back expectedly.

Diane hadn’t fled the pool as I’d assumed she would. Instead, my target was standing in the middle of the shallow end. Her gun was trained on my hiding place and I knew I’d be nailed at least once upon exiting. Diving into the pool was a bad idea, too. During my first visit I’d learned that Diane was a far better swimmer than I. Scanning the small area between the bush and the house, inspiration struck.

Diane shrieked as the first stream of freezing cold water arched over the bush and splashed with impressive accuracy in her general area. Laughing to myself, I came out from around the shrubbery with the garden hose in one hand. Diane scrambled around in the water, trying vainly to escape the icy spray. I was soon standing on the edge of the pool, hose trained on the unprotected skin.

“Throw the pistol away and I’ll stop,” I called. The gun arced through the air promptly, landing a safe distance away in the grass.

“Now, come out here!” Meekly, the blonde climbed out of the pool. Dropping the house, I ripped the remaining half of the bikini from her body and pushed her roughly onto one of the patio loops. When she was lying on her stomach I pulled from my pocket another of my favorite restraining items — nipple clamps with fine, long chains attached.

“This is so you don’t get any ideas about kicking,” I told the girl, reaching between the rubber slats on the bottom of the locke and gripping one nipple. Great furniture for domming, this poolside stuff. I applied the clamp tightly and Diane moaned. When the other nipple was similarly clipped, I drew the chains down the length of the locke. Pushing the girl’s legs flat, I looped the chains around her ankles. The lengths were taut enough that her breasts were already being tugged at; any movement in her legs would cause them to pull even more.

“I didn’t mean to run away,” Diane whimpered. She sounded so pathetic that I almost burst out laughing. While my captive protected I stradded her back, facing that beautiful, naked ass. It took exactly four swings of the paddle to start the girl moaning.

“I won’t do it again, sir, please stop!” Ignoring her, I made sure that her entire backside received uniform treatment. To do this properly, of course, would require a considerable number of swings. Fine with me.

“No more!” Diane begged. Her legs twitched involuntarily with each spank, now, and I the tension at her nipples was illiciting louder cries and groans.

“Diane?” called an cracked voice, and I halted instantly.

Beneath me the girl froze.

“Diane?” the voice repeated. “Is something wrong over there?”

“Oh, shit,” my captive swore. “Um, everything’s fine, Mrs.

Crockett. Go away, please!”

I was definitely Puzzled but not about to succumb to another pre-arranged ruse. “Who’s that?”

Diane surprised. “Our nosey neighbor. She thinks she has to watch me while Mom and Dad are gone.”

“Diane, what’s going on over there? I heard screaming!”

“Tell her to go away!”

“I am!” she hissed, and I gave her another swat for insolence.

The unexpected attack brought a louder than usual cry, and the old woman began calling again.

“Go away, Mrs. Crockett!” Diane insisted. “Everything’s fine!” In a lower voice, she explained, “She likes to climb up her ladder and look in here; she caught my parents swimming nude one time and now she spies on us constantly!”

“Uh-huh,” I told her, convinced now that the old woman was yet another clever setup. I started laying into her rear again with the paddle and was just beginning to enjoy her squirms and screams when a wrinkled face popped up at the brick wall surrounding the yard.

“Um, hello,” I said, feeling a bit awkward. Mrs. Crockett gasped, perhaps shocked at seeing a strange man paddling her naked neighbor. I hoped it wasn’t a sight she took in every day.

“Diane!” the woman screamed. “Diane, you just hold on! I’m calling the policense!” The face disappeared and I heard the sound of a ladder clattering to the ground.

“Well, crap,” I said.

When the police officer came running around the side of the

house Diane and I were lying casually on the pool chairs, each clad in our swimming suits. The cop skidded to a halt, apparently taken aback.

“Can I help you, sir?” Diane asked pleasantly. The policeman seemed to be having trouble looking at her face. I would have smiled but I was busy pretending to sleep.

“We, uh, well, we got a report of a rapee in progress here?”

“A rapee?”

“Well, yes ma’am.” Oh yeah, he was definitely embarrassed.

“Honey?” asked Diane, shaking me. I tried to look suitably

confused as I awoke. “Honey, are you being raped?”

“Um, nope,” I answered. Diane looked back at the officer.

“Sorry, nothing of the sort here!”

“I see,” said the flustered man. “Well, I’m sorry to both

you.” Almost slipping on the wet pavement, the cop turned to leave.

Diane gave me a broad smile before leaning back on her locke. I reached over and pinched the reddened skin of her ass where it was exposed by the edge of her bikini. The sharp yelp brought made the policeman yelp, but I was once again “asleep.”

Shaking his head, the cop went back to work. After a short wait Diane and I retired to the inside of the house so I could do the same.