Annabel and Mr. Nash Part Two
Copyright 2021 Lorenzo Marks.
Cover art permission by Fotosearch_u19270413
All rights reserved
ANNABEL’S NEW LIFE
“Am I going to be kept clean like this all the time now?”
Sitting in her punishment chair, with her bare legs hanging over the wooden arms, Annabel couldn’t help but look at herself in the closet mirror. With her hair tied back, and her flower-patterned, sleeveless smock pulled up to her waist, she was at least spared an embarrassing view of her exposed crotch, which was blocked out by the back of Mrs. Craddock’s head.
Only a shadow of red-brown stubble had grown back in the forty-eight hours since her excruciatingly shameful performance at the pool party, but after pressing a hot, damp towel against her vulva, Mrs. Craddock had gently scraped all of Annabel’s emerging pubic hair away until she was once again smooth as silk.
“This is how Mr. Nash wants you to present yourself to him,” Mrs. Craddock said, giving Annabel’s mons a final wipe-down. Goose bumps rose up on Annabel’s arms, and to her chagrin, she discovered that the old woman’s tender ministrations were having an unsettlingly pleasant effect on her.
“Present myself?” Annabel asked anxiously.
Just as he had done after the poker night, Nash had kept his distance since they had returned from Helen’s house, and Annabel’s only companion had been Mrs. Craddock. As much as she loathed the strict old housekeeper, Annabel had been grateful for the respite. Somehow her daily regimen of supervised housework, exercise and ablutions, acted as a kind of feminine buffer against the periodic ordeals of sexual humiliation that Nash liked to arrange for her. Even when Mrs. Craddock punished her for minor infringements, the pain and embarrassment were tempered by the fact that they were two women alone together. Now however, it sounded as if Annabel was being groomed for another intimate liaison with her twisted master.
“From now on, Mr. Nash has decided that you will be spending more time attending to his personal needs,” Mrs. Craddock said, sitting back to admire her handiwork.
Annabel gulped involuntarily.
“You are very fortunate to have been born the way you are,” Mrs. Craddock said wistfully. “Such beauty.”
And then to Annabel’s astonishment, Mrs. Craddock leaned forward and kissed her just above her labia. With her legs akimbo, and naked from the waist down, Annabel braced herself. Her suspicions had obviously been correct—the sadistic old bitch really was attracted to her!
But instead of the expected oral invasion of Annabel’s most personal parts, Mrs. Craddock merely sighed and stood up.
“Come along, girl. Mr. Nash is waiting for you.”
When Mrs. Craddock brought Annabel into the living room, it took a measure of self-control for Darius to avoid looking up from his magazine. It was imperative that he maintain a superior air of disdain to hide the excited anticipation he was actually feeling. Having shown considerable restraint up until now, he had decided that the time was right for Annabel to become his full-time lover. Yes, he would still take pleasure in farming her out to friends and acquaintances, but with her spirit now broken, he was ready to take full possession of her gorgeous young body.
He was sitting in his favorite armchair with his bare feet resting on a leather footstool. Naked beneath his dressing gown, he held the magazine over his lap to hide his erection.
“Annabel is here for your pedicure,” Mrs. Craddock said.
Pretending to finish a passage, Darius finally looked up over his reading glasses. His beautiful young charge was dressed in a simple smock that stopped at the middle of her thighs. He had instructed Mrs. Craddock not to allow Annabel any underwear, and he could see the shamefaced girl’s hardened nipples poking against the cotton material.
Excellent! The stimulant is starting to take effect!
After Annabel’s humiliating medical exam the previous week, Dr. Schafer had sold Darius a large supply of a powerful aphrodisiac. Darius had no idea what it was made from, but the good doctor had assured him that once ingested, it would leave Annabel in an intense state of sexual arousal. Even better, he had informed Darius, continuous dosages would have a cumulative effect on her body, meaning that Annabel’s libido would continue to grow stronger every day.
Unbeknown to the poor girl, Mrs. Craddock had been spiking her food with the compound since Monday morning, and already Annabel was starting to look a little flustered. Now Darius could begin another deliciously naughty game—even though she would still find their lovemaking abhorrent, Annabel would now have to suffer the shame of physically enjoying the erotic pleasures that her newly supercharged body would give her. And without the knowledge that her sex drive was being artificially enhanced, she would be driven down to a deeper level of self-loathing!
Oh, crap! A pedicure?
Annabel nervously knelt down in front of the footstool, upon which had been placed a set of clippers, nail files, scissors and shaping tools. She looked with distaste at Nash’s yellow toenails and waited for him to speak, but he had returned to his magazine.
“Don’t tell me you need instructions?” Mrs. Craddock said. “I’m finished for the day.”
“No, Mrs. Craddock,” Annabel sighed heavily. “I can do it.”
“Very well, I’ll be off then,” Mrs. Craddock replied. “Good afternoon, Mr. Nash.”
“Good day, Mrs. Craddock,” Nash said, his face still hidden behind the magazine.
Annabel listened to the old woman close the front door behind her and then hesitatingly got to work. Although in her previous life, Annabel had been a VIP customer at an upscale health and beauty spa, she was quite an accomplished manicurist herself—although she had never imagined that she would ever have to attend to anybody other than herself!
As Annabel squeamishly clipped away at Nash’s thick, horny nails, her mind drifted back to her devastating ordeal at Helen’s pool party. After her humiliating spanking, followed by the revolting spit-roasting by Trent and Josh, she had spent the rest of the party naked, serving their drinks and food, and forced to listen to their cruel and belittling comments.
Annabel had awoken the following morning under a suffocating cloud of misery and unworthiness, and she had followed Mrs. Craddock’s instructions like an automaton, as if there was now another self inhabiting her body. But as the day had worn on, her attention had gradually been drawn to an unsettlingly pleasant sensation manifesting within her body, and today, if anything, she was feeling even more sexually aroused!
She was acutely aware of her erect nipples under her inadequate clothing, and there had been an embarrassing dampness between her legs all morning. This unexplained state of excitement so soon after her public humiliation, had left her feeling both bewildered and concerned. Was she, on some base level, now taking a filthy carnal pleasure from her ongoing abasement?
When she had finished filing Nash’s toenails, Annabel sat back on her heels and inspected the results of her efforts. His feet were still ugly, but she had to admit there had been some improvement. Then she quickly chastised herself for taking even the slightest measure of satisfaction from this revolting job. She had just become acquainted with every detail of Nash’s toes, and that was just the kind of intimacy that she was trying to avoid!
Annabel cleared her throat, and Nash lowered his magazine.
“Not bad,” he said, leaning forward to examine his feet. “Now, I want you to open my robe and mow the lawn as I believe you young ladies like to call it.”
Annabel blinked, unsure if she had heard correctly.
“You have a pair of scissors there,” Nash said, with a bored sigh. “I want you to trim my pubic hair.”
Beneath his veneer of nonchalance, Darius could feel his heart hammering away in his chest. His cock was at full mast now, and his whole body tingled with anticipation. Even though he had already witnessed Annabel unclothed in a variety of degrading scenarios of his own invention, his physical contact with her had been limited. But very soon, that was all about to change! As Dr. Schafer’s wonderful aphrodisiac continued to intensify her sexual desire over the coming weeks, Annabel would quickly discover that Darius’ throbbing cock would be the only outlet for her bodily cravings!
Still looking numb after her weekend ordeal, the only indication of Annabel’s revulsion was a slight turn-down of her luscious lips. But she had been through so much by now that she was past making verbal objections, and she merely reached up and untied Darius’ robe. As the woolen garment fell apart, Darius’ erect member came into view, laying like a fat sausage on his round belly.
After the briefest hesitation, Annabel picked up the scissors, while with her other hand she raised his shaft into an upright position. Darius let out a shuddering sigh at the sensation of her slender fingers around his cock, while the miserable girl snipped away at the dense thatch of dark hair surrounding its base.
As she went about her lowly chore, Darius noticed that she was dropping the loose hair onto the foot stall. In spite of his heightened state of excitement, he managed to say, “Don’t leave it on there.”
When Annabel paused and looked up at him quizzically, he added, “Put it in your mouth.”
This time there was a tiny flash of repugnance in the wretched girl’s eyes as she unwillingly scooped up the small pile of hairs and then, to Darius’ utter joy, pushed it between her lips.
Even though Annabel wasn’t actually massaging his dick, he felt it jerk of its own accord.
How does she manage to turn me on so easily?
In a throaty whisper, he said, “Swallow it.”
Mouth closed, and eyes moist, Annabel breathed hard through her nostrils and closed her eyes as her throat contracted. She made an audible gulping sound, followed by a hacking cough as Darius’ discarded pubic hair descended down her gullet.
Incredible! Darius thought, rapturously. All of her old standards have been eradicated! I do believe that there is no longer anything that this poor lassie won’t do for me now!
By summoning up enough saliva, Annabel had managed to condense Nash’s pubic hair into a mashed wad, making it just about possible to swallow. Trying not to heave at the thought of it settling in her stomach, Annabel was about to resume trimming, when Nash said, “Okay, that’s enough.”
She put down the scissors and waited with trepidation. Nash’s erect penis was still in her hand, and by now she didn’t need much imagination to guess what was coming next.
However, as so often in the past, Nash would prove her wrong yet again.
“Now kiss the soles of my feet.”
Even after all she had been through, this new and unexpected request sent a wave of disgust through her. In her brief time here, she had been forced to repeatedly show off her naked body, been humiliated, spanked and caned, had all of her orifices variously filled with semen, urine, and soap water, and had been compelled to have sex with six different men—but somehow she found this the ultimate debasement! She hated herself now, and hardly knew who she was anymore, but from somewhere deep within, she could still hear the old Annabel fiercely protesting.
Fuck him! the voice said.
“Who is your master?” Nash asked.
You will not kiss his feet! the voice screamed.
“Answer me, Annabel.”
Annabel looked at the hardened skin on his heel.
Don’t do it!
Even though she thought she had none left, a solitary tear escaped Annabel’s eye as an internal fire flickered and died, and the dissenting voice faded into silence.
“You are, Mr. Nash,” she said, and then leaned forward and pressed her lips against the bare sole of Nash’s foot.
Curious to discover how far she had descended, Darius now added, “Lick them.”
Without looking up at him, Annabel poked out her dainty little tongue and began to lick the arch of his foot. Darius was not ticklish, but the mere sight of this once-arrogant heiress lapping away at his bare sole was enough to make him want to giggle with delight.
My little puppy girl. Hmm. Now there’s an idea!
“Now I want you to suck my toes.”
It was impossible to tell what was going on in that pretty little head now, because she had closed her eyes, but Darius watched in fascination as the big toe of his right foot disappeared between her soft lips. He could feel her tongue darting between the gaps as she slowly worked her way along, coating each toe with her saliva. Breathing heavily, Darius reached out, pressed his hand over hers, and began sliding it up and down his shaft. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the wall clock, Darius’ heavy breathing, and Annabel’s gentle slurping noises each time she pulled off one of his toes. To his satisfaction and delight, when Darius released her hand, she continued to stroke his erect cock.
Darius leaned back in ecstasy as his beautiful slave girl knelt humbly before him, her hand slowly pumping his shaft, and her mouth now amazingly stretched around every toe on his right foot. She was also emitting some rather telltale sounds in her throat, reminding Darius that the poor girl was no longer in total control of her own physical responses.
Even though Annabel hadn’t picked up the pace with her hand, the sheer perverted pleasure of watching her demean herself like this was bringing Darius close to climaxing over her fingers— which wasn’t quite the happy ending he had planned.
Pulling her hand away, Darius gasped, “That will do, my dear. It’s time to go up to my room.”
Annabel stood awkwardly at the foot of Nash’s bed. It was the first time she had been permitted to enter his bedroom—although for her it was a dubious honor. Like the rest of the house, its furnishings were simple and antiquated. When Nash slipped out of his robe to reveal his naked body, she suddenly found herself longing for her own little punishment room.
Nash rolled over onto his stomach on the bed, presenting Annabel with a view of his hairy ass and purple scrotum. As revolting a sight as it was, to Annabel’s dismay, her nipples were still rock-hard, and as much as she had been sickened by having his toes in mouth, there was no denying the warm glow of arousal in her belly.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“I want a nice relaxing massage,” Nash announced into his pillow. “Use the oil on the nightstand.”
Annabel groaned inwardly, but after the disgusting act she had just performed in the living room, surely this should be easier to handle. As she reached for the dispenser however, Nash said, “Take off your dress first—and then straddle my back.”
Annabel’s heart sank as she reluctantly lifted the smock over her head. Even though Nash had seen her naked on several occasions now, the fact that they were both nude and alone in the house together, made her feel especially uneasy. Very conscious of her proud nipples and her shaved crotch, Annabel squirted some oil into the palm of her hand and climbed onto the bed. There was no way of performing this unwholesome task without making intimate physical contact with the old pervert, and so, biting her lip, she parted her thighs and lowered herself down onto Nash’s buttocks.
Darius savored the exquisite sensation of Annabel’s damp pussy pressing down on his ass cheeks as she massaged his neck and shoulders. Before she had climbed on top of him, he had noted the way her pink nipples were jutting out, and he wondered what she was making of her newly enhanced concupiscence. It would be interesting to see how she handled her conflicting emotions as her sexual yearnings intensified.
As she pressed her thumbs into the small of Darius’ back, he said, “I was looking at one of your social networking accounts today. It seems that your ex-boyfriend and Helen have become something of an item.”
He smiled to himself as Annabel’s hands briefly froze. “Apparently after we left the party, Bobby stayed over, and one thing led to another. Keep going. Do my buttocks now.”
Annabel resumed her kneading, and Darius continued, “I think it’s for the best. They make a handsome couple, and Helen is such a well-bred young lady. There’s no way a catch like Bobby should have wasted himself on slut like you.”
Annabel remained silent, although Darius did notice that her fingers were digging a little harder into his wobbling flesh.
“I called Helen to congratulate her,” Darius went on. “And you’ll be pleased to know that I have given all of your old friends an open invitation to visit you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know you are particularly fond of Josh and Trent.”
Annabel let out a little whimper, and turning over, Darius was gratified to see that his little monologue had had the desired effect. Even though she appeared to be operating on autopilot, he was still capable of inducing a tear or two.
He took hold of his stiff cock and waved it at her. “Climb on board.”
As much as she despised this cruel and vulgar man, Annabel couldn’t help letting out a reflexive squeak of pleasure as she slid easily down his shaft. It felt as if all of her pleasure sensors had been amplified, and she was unable to stop herself rotating her hips as she impaled herself on him.
“My, you have turned into a horny bitch!” Nash grinned up at her.
He reached up and pulled on her sensitive nipples, making her gasp.
“Ride me,” Nash said, his breath quickening, and Annabel was unable to resist. She gripped his forearms and ground her pelvis hard into his. He was squeezing her breasts now, scrunching them together, and then pushing them back and flattening them against her chest.
Annabel threw her head back and closed her eyes. She had no idea why she felt this way, but she was helpless to stop it now. All she knew was that her body needed release—and it had to be now. Nash raised his hips, pushing himself deeper inside her and Annabel cried out in ecstasy.
“That’s it!” Nash breathed. “Make yourself come!”
Annabel didn’t need any encouragement, and her whole body jerked as her orgasm pulsed through her. It was immediately followed by another, and Annabel slumped forward, her face directly above his, her nipples brushing against the hairs on his chest, and before she knew what had happened, her tongue was inside his mouth, their saliva mingling and their teeth clashing.
A third and fourth climax swept through her, and then Nash suddenly moaned into her throat, spurted inside her, and then she collapsed on top of him.
As she gradually regained control of her body, it suddenly hit her that she had just had the most incredible sexual experience with the person she hated the most in the whole world!
Somewhere out there, Bobby and Helen were beginning a normal, healthy, romantic relationship, and here she was, stuck in this dingy little house, intimately involved in her own sick and disgusting union with an ugly man who was easily old enough to be her father! She began to sob into his neck, and she felt Nash’s hand stroking her hair.
“There, there,” he crooned. “Don’t be sad. Even though Bobby is out of your league now, I still find you attractive, and I’ve got some good news for you—starting from tonight, you will be sharing my bed!”
Annabel raised her head and looked at him in dismay.
“That’s right!” Nash kissed her on the nose. “From now on you are going to be my slave by day—and my lover by night!”
Over the next few days, Annabel’s daily routine slipped into a simple, albeit unpleasant, pattern. Forbidden to leave Nash’s bed without his permission, she invariably awoke before him, and would then be forced to lay naked by his side, listening to his snoring until he finally stirred.
Unlike the first two weeks, when she either completed her ablutions alone, or under Mrs. Craddock’s supervision, now she had to shower with Nash—which also meant soaping, rinsing, and drying him—before dressing in her maid’s uniform and preparing his breakfast.
After he had eaten, Nash would either retire to his den or—if Annabel was lucky—go out on an errand whenever Mrs. Craddock was on duty. After her housework was completed, there might be an odd job to perform in the garage or garden, followed by a tiring exercise and posture session, for which she would have to change into her undersize leotard. The evenings would be spent attending to whatever whim took Nash’s fancy. This might take the form of a neck massage, manicure or pedicure, serving him drinks or snacks, or merely sitting quietly at his feet while he watched television or read.
Then would come the part that Annabel dreaded the most—bedtime. Her constant state of arousal was reaching almost unbearable proportions now, and to her utter mortification, as she went about her duties, she would catch herself secretly anticipating the disgusting nightly sex sessions she was forced to perform with Nash. Such was her need for release, that as disgusting as she found the act itself, her carnal yearnings would quickly take over, and she would eagerly bring herself to orgasm after shuddering orgasm. After they were done, Annabel would collapse into an ashamed and exhausted sleep until she opened her eyes the next morning, and then her demeaning daily cycle would begin again.
Annabel accepted this new submissive lifestyle with a dull resignation and operated under the premise that if she managed to please both Nash and Mrs. Craddock in their respective ways, she might be spared any further sexual humiliations involving people from outside.
That fragile hope was cruelly shattered the day that Tom Craddock arrived to pick up his wife.
Annabel was hanging out the laundry and thinking about her phone call with Aunt Sissy earlier that morning. It had been an unexpected opportunity to talk to her aunt, but before dialing, Nash had given her a detailed briefing on how the conversation should proceed. Very quickly, Annabel had understood that there would be no chance of passing on a coded message about what was happening to her, and as Nash had sat with his cheek pressed against hers, she had miserably reassured Aunt Sissy that everything was going along just as Nash had described it.
Today Annabel was dressed in one of her alternative outfits, a red and white checked tea towel tied around her waist, with another matching piece covering her breasts. As usual, the inadequate pieces of cloth barely hid her charms, and the brisk late summer breeze kept lifting up her skirt whenever she reached up for the clothesline. Clasping two wooden clothes pegs between her lips, Annabel was on tiptoe holding up one of Nash’s shirts when she heard Tom Craddock’s voice behind her.
“Hey, kiddo! Remember me?”
Annabel froze, aware that her skirt was riding up high enough to expose the lower half of her buttocks.
How could I forget? You had your penis in my mouth! I was forced to swallow your sperm! You sucked my nipples and pushed lime wedges up my asshole!
“Damn, I’d forgotten what a lovely butt you have!” Craddock leered. “I can see your cunt lips, you know?”
Annabel spun around and held Nash’s shirt up in front of her.
“How did you get in here?”
Such was Nash’s confidence in his total domination of Annabel by now, that he had gone off on an errand, leaving Annabel unattended in the house—and his belief was fully justified because it had never entered her head to try and leave. What purpose would that serve after all that she had endured so far? But she had never expected anyone else to come in—particularly as she had checked herself to make sure the door was locked.
“Is Mrs. Craddock back?” she asked cautiously.
“Nuh-uh. But I’m taking her to her sister’s house for the weekend and she told me to wait for her here.”
Annabel looked at the key in his hand and her heart began to race. Her and this fat little pervert alone in the house together? For how long? Nash and Mrs. Craddock had only been gone for an hour!
“So,” Craddock said, snatching the shirt away. “You want to show me the rest?”
Annabel instinctively made a run for it, but as she passed him, Craddock caught the knot on the side of her wraparound and it easily came away in his hand, leaving her naked from the waist down. She bounded barefoot across the back patio and slammed into the locked back door.
“Oops!” Craddock snickered “Must have accidentally turned the latch. We’ll just have to wait for them to get back. Now, how are we going to amuse ourselves?”
Annabel slid down the door and hugged her knees to her chest. “Please, I have to finish my chores, or I’ll be punished.”
“That’s okay,” Craddock said, examining Nash’s shirt. “Washing day, huh? Come on, don’t be scared. I’ll help you.”
Annabel warily watched him like a cornered animal.
“You really don’t have any choice,” Craddock said, lowering the shirt toward the freshly cut lawn “If you don’t let me play with you, I won’t let you finish your job.”
Annabel looked at Nash’s shirt in horror. If there was so much as a single grass stain on there, she would be in serious trouble!
“Okay, have it your way,” Craddock said, reaching for the laundry basket.
“No!” Annabel leaped to her feet, her hands covering her naked pubes. “You promise—you won’t do anything?”
The fat, bald man grinned nastily. “I promise I’ll let you finish hanging out your laundry, that’s all.”
Annabel let out an exasperated sob.
It’s going to happen again! This hateful little man knows I have no choice! And when he touches me, I know that my disgusting body is going to betray me too!
Warily, she approached him and accepted the proffered shirt. When Craddock reached for her top, she reflexively shrunk back.
“Come on baby,” he said. “Uncle Tom wants to play!”
With a disheartened sigh, Annabel stepped forward and allowed Craddock to untie the top. He gazed at her exposed nipples and said, “Look at you, all puffed up and ready for action!”
He leaned forward and kissed each of her swollen nubs, sending an unwanted tingle of pleasure down Annabel’s spine.
“Carry on, then,” he said, and so Annabel was forced to hang out the washing in the nude, while Mrs. Craddock’s lecherous husband looked on.
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