Shredder Part 1 - Sex Stories

Shredder Part 1

... floor. Get the mop and try to dry it up. On the other hand, let it dry itself.” He turned off the water, disconnected the hose, gave her a shove toward the stairs as he took a last look and followed her. Christine thought she’d rather be electrocuted than trapped as Eddie’s slave for years. She dreaded the next time he raped her butt, or decided he wanted oral sex. He wasn’t a clean person. He always reeked of sweaty sourness. His clothes were dirty, his hair was greasy and shaggy. All of a sudden, a plan began to form in her mind. As they sat at the kitchen table having coffee and a donut from the bag she and Sandy brought to snack on while removing Sandy’s stuff... was it only thirty-six hours? Yes, here one afternoon, trapped and raped while Sandy hung in the basement, then last night. The clock on the stove said it was ten in the morning. “Where’s the washing machine or laundry tub?” she asked him. Eddie looked up, questioningly, surprised. “Obviously whatever laundry Sandy did at the laundry in town, she didn’t clean up your stuff,” she said matter-of-factly. “I guess if there was a washer, she’d have washed it here.” he shook his head. “Is there a laundry tub, maybe a scrub board? Those jeans of yours could crawl away by their self, and your shirt isn’t any better. We could take the tub up to the bathroom and I’ll wash your clothes while you have a bath. You’re stronger, so I’ll wring out as much water as I can, then you get the rest... If we hang them in the ...

... hallway, they’ll be dry by tomorrow... I’m sure you got something else to wear ‘til then...” she said hopefully. He went into the hall, opened a door and brought back a tub and scrub board. When they got to the bathroom she was running water in a jug, pouring it in the wash tub as he stripped off his clothes and tossed them to her to wash, putting his wallet and the ring of keys on the side of the sink. He shaved as the water ran in the bath, made her sit on the side of the tub and shaved her crotch again. As she began soaping his shirt, scrubbing it, he seemed satisfied and got in the bath water. Christine put his socks and underwear in the sink to soak before washing and rinsed his shirt with another couple of jugs of water and wrung it. She took the soap and jug, dipped it in the bath water and wet his hair, soaped and scrubbed it; after the third try it lathered. She rinsed it with clean water and washed his upper back. She froze momentarily as his wet hand touched her bare breasts and slid between her legs. “You’re a lot better than Sandy,” he said gruffly, “she never did any of this.” “Well, I guess that’s why you were angry at her...” she said as she scrubbed his jeans, which had been soaking in the washtub. She felt the handcuff key as it slid from the pocket to the bottom of the tub and she palmed it as she bent and scrubbed, hiding it in her hair for the moment. After scrubbing his socks and underwear, she dragged the wash tub to the toilet and dumped the soapy water, ...