Chrissie Chapter 4 - Sex Stories

Chrissie Chapter 4

... thanked me multiple times for the pricy present. Karl hadn’t said a goddamn thing.

With relentless self-criticism tying me in knots as usual, I drove my Mercedes back to the shitty part of town. Every time I’d glance down and see the jagged burn mark in my leather seat, I’d grit my teeth and hate myself for allowing things to spiral out of control like they had … and then my resistance would melt, and I’d slip into a sub-space trance, where everything felt so right.

Sure, I’d just dropped a ridiculous amount of cash on my ex-girlfriend and her husband — but $200k was a pittance to me, since I had about $3 million in savings, and my money wasn’t doing me any good sitting in the bank, anyway. The amazing, submissive cloud I’d been floating on since embarking on my service to the Martins was priceless. I’d never felt more alive and wanted that to continue. A couple hundred grand was nothing.

I got back to South Sycamore Street and chuckled when I saw Rebecca’s Neon still parked in the driveway. Her new SUV was worth 100 times more than that piece of shit, and it dawned on me that Karl had been absolutely right earlier that morning — Rebecca had no business driving a car like that. While I had been thinking the same thing since I’d started serving her, I felt ashamed that Karl had been the first one to say it out loud.

After surveying the size of the driveway, I decided to park my Mercedes in the street to allow room for the two large new vehicles that would require ...

... spots once Rebecca and Karl returned home from the restaurant. Then, with a sigh, I squared my shoulders and got started on the fucked-up lot next door.

The weed-choked, litter-strewn parcel wasn’t part of the property my masters were renting, but Karl had said he was tired of looking at it, and since nobody from the city had responded to his complaints, he’d told me to clean it up. It was a huge endeavor that was going to take several hours to finish, which is why my masters had wanted me to report to their house early Saturday morning. Those plans changed once they decided to go to the dealerships, but my masters still wanted everything done.

It began to rain, and I found out the hard way that it’s nearly impossible to pull wet weeds bare-handed. Since I didn’t have the key to the shed where the work gloves were stored, I did the best I could, getting soaked in the process.

After about an hour-and-a-half, Karl’s truck pulled into the driveway, and he dashed through the pouring rain into his house without saying a word, even though he’d glanced my way and we’d made eye contact. I hung my head and kept working. About 20 minutes later, I spotted Rebecca’s stylish new SUV turn onto the block. After she parked, she also ran to the house, but to my great joy, she paused in the doorway and yelled out to me: “dry off and come inside.”

I didn’t have anything with which to dry myself, so I stood on the porch wringing out my shirt and shaking my head like a dog to expel the ...