Carrot and the Stick

by Tarkus911

Caution: This Erotica Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, Slavery, Lesbian, True Story, DomSub, Light Bond, Slow, .

Desc: Erotica Story: She wants a slave, and the perfect subject is dropped into her lap. But how to train the untrained?

It was my birthday, and I had come into my inheritance. I was both twenty-four, and had finished college successfully. It was nothing big, my inheritance that is. An old farmstead now reduced to twenty-five acres of overgrown land. A two story farmhouse built in the mid-1800's and about 300,000 dollars (after dear Uncle Sam and the State ripped out their share.) That 300,000 I had taken time to split between three very Government insured, and non-connected banks. Oh and not to forget all the annual county taxes and school taxes. Thank God everything was in a county where the biggest town was over a thirty some miles away, and held exactly 3,512 people. It was of course the county seat. Still there was a plus, the land was considered agricultural. So as long as I grew a few acres of something sellable every year I had the lowest taxes possible. But I had no income. Not a penny.

So there I was, in the middle of my birthday party, friends, acquaintances and more than one hanger on who had driven all the way out to see their college schoolmates inheritance, to eat and drink up as much of my inheritance as they could in two days, then stagger back to the big city and their own last year of school. I really didn't mind, I planned on using my time painting, lease out the twenty acres of field just as my grandfather had, and in short. Lazing around the rest of my life until I got the art down pat and became famous. In my young mind that couldn't take more than five years at worst. It took over nineteen actually.

It would be lonely, but I had a plan. I would attend every convention I could and see what the professionals were doing, then find some lonely fan, grab her, and drag her home as my pet. Yes, I said her. So I'm a lesbian, bit deal. Over twenty percent of the human race is, no matter what men and learned scientist may say. Especially the religious freaks, of all followings.

Tired of the loud music, louder couples making bacon and bottles all over the place I headed outside. It was getting dark, which meant skeeter swarms, but I wanted clear air. Intelligently, I had triple locked the basement doors so no one could damage the utility systems down there, and the doors to my second floor. No one was sleeping in my bed tonight but me. Outside was as bad as inside, and I could tell that the 'skeeters were having a field day. An awful lot of college kids were going to be hitting the free clinic Monday. Still I was fully dress and prepped for such things, so I wandered around to the West side, where the doors to my basement were. And the DEET could work its magic.

And there I found her. Not at first. No, I had been relaxing in one of the chairs, idly batting away the occasional DEET resistant skeeter when I noticed her. She was sleeping on the hammock, a three year old net style hammock I had brought my grandfather a year before he died. Standing, I went over to see who she was, and then kid her about sleeping nude in the open. As I approached a cloud of skeeters lifted off. Oh this one was in a really bad way I realized. She must have been asleep for hours. Every inch of skin that I could see was a raised welt. A look at her face told me I didn't know her, I didn't know any Chinese or Japanese girls, and she could be either. Taking out my can of DEET I sprayed her down toes to top of the head, emptying the can. Too late, but it would stop any further damage. Considering the current damage she should have woken screaming at the nasty chemicals touch. Instead, she groaned and went back to sleep. The smell of alcohol wasn't that bad, it had to have been drugs. There were enough around. None of mine, I never had and never will do drugs. They rot the imagination.

She was pretty too, or would be when the skeeter bites healed, which would take about two weeks. Unless she scratched herself, and with the fingernails I saw, she was going to do major damage to herself. I looked around, there was no one on this side of the house. Maybe, maybe I wouldn't have to wait years. Maybe, just maybe. If I took the chance.

Running back into my house, stepping around the near unconscious party hardies (who would be leaving in the morning, thank God) I opened the freezer and grabbed my keys. Hidden in a bag of peas of course. I like peas, almost no one else does. It was also obvious that people had been digging in the freezer. I was going to have to sterilize everything this week. Going back outside I passed two semi-conscious guests who, finding the skeeters too much, were headed inside. Both I knew and said hello too. Neither more than grunted in return. Returning to the hammock I found a cloud of skeeters around my hoped for prize, but not one was touching down. Good, she was safe from them at least.

Quickly opening the basement I went in, grabbed a waiting flashlight and looked around. Dust, cobwebs and ancient beams shown in the light, along with a five year old central heating and cooling system (off for the party) and an electric demand water heater (also off for the party.) Finally, there was my pile of 'stuff' that was supposed to be upstairs, or in the attic, but was here for safety. No one was going to break, or take my anime. Included in this mess was a hammock, a duplicate of the one outside only never used. Carefully opening the box I pulled out the device. Oh perfect, with plenty of extra rope.

It was a good twenty minutes to hang the hammock between two thick beams, then going outside I went to my hoped for prize. Whomever she was, she was starting to wake up. I realized that had very little time. Rolling her out of the hammock she landed with a thump, waking only enough to puke. Good, that would make her weaker. It was a hilariously easy ten minutes to guide her down the stairs (to a bed) I kept whispering and dump her in the waiting hammock. Or at least it should have been. Getting a near boneless person into a hammock is a lot harder than it seems. But finally I managed.

My next hurdle was to tie her hands and feet to the posts, actually a very easy thing to do. Shove a couple of Tylenol sinus in her mouth, then slap a wad of cloth behind them (one of my old, but clean pairs) and tie it in place with one of my brand new, never used stockings. She better be worth it I thought, those things would have to be mail ordered from now on. Done, I took time to carefully sew her into her prison. Like a spider I examined my prize. Wrapped in my web, there was no chance that she could escape. Now all I had to hope was that no one came looking for a missing girlfriend.

There was just one thing I simply had to do. Going to my grandfathers workbench I found a can of 3 in 1 oil. Pumping just a little on my long finger I returned to my now moaning prize. It was a little difficult, what with her legs held closed, still I managed the penetration. And discovered something wonderful.

My prize was a virgin. At least there. So no STD's, no baby, no worries. Unless someone started looking for her. Leaving the basement (and my now turned off flashlight) I returned to the surface, closed the heavy door lightly and locked it. Finished I returned to my chair. After all, at night the stars are beautiful here. I was going to have to afford a telescope, in the city you could even tell the colors of the stars. There I stayed until the DEET began to wear off. Walking into the disaster my home was, I unlocked the door to my back stairs, went through and relocked it. When morning sun (and the complaints of my guests) woke me I couldn't believe that no one was yelling for a missing girl.

My good friends helped clean up. It was, after all, a total disaster. As car after van after motorcycle departed more and more of my home surfaced.

"Your going to have to trash this furniture" Sara Thompson told me. "They broke its back."

"I kinda figured this would happen" I admitted. "All grandads stuff is in the locked barn. I bought this at a thrift store last week and had it delivered special."

Sara laughed. "I noticed the basement and second floor was locked, but never got to the barn. Bull kept me kinda busy."

'Bull', her boy of the moment, grinned sheepishly. "Good party" he agreed. "And no one gone missing either."

"Shouldn't have" I agreed. "Everyone was told to stay in the fenced in area. Anyone who went out, well there are ants and chiggers and goats spurs aplenty out there. Your certain everyone was accounted for?"

"Yep" Billy answered, holding up a blue composition book. "Everyone signed in and everyone signed out. Except the few that are still here that is."

I took a deep breath, letting it go slowly. So, my little prize was a party crasher. One who didn't sign in because she didn't want to be known. "Anyone want to see the second floor" I offered.

"What about the basement" Sara asked.

"Still live knob and tube wiring down there, I've got an electrician coming next week to examine the whole house and give me a quote. I have to pay him fifty just to come out, it's a two hour drive after all. He promised that if I hired him, and the job was big enough he'd apply that to the final bill. Bet he doesn't though." I shrugged in defeat, a consumer left helpless in the face of business. "I don't want to lose any of you. Nothing but my grandfathers old workbench, the water heater and central air anyway. And an awful lot of spiders and other bugs.

"Spiders, euuu" Sara gasped, shaking herself. "And your going to live here alone?"

I gave Sara my standard leer. "Unless you want to join me my pretty."

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Fa/Fa / Slavery / Lesbian / True Story / DomSub / Light Bond / Slow /