“Security System – Special offer”
It detects any movement, calls the cable company and they send the cops, or the fire brigade. Even my husband thought it was a good idea and the price was ridiculous. The installers were good but kind of secretive too. They said it was better for the householders not to know exactly where the sensors were but we should be happy that it covered the house, inside and out.
It gave me a sense of security, almost of power. Me, timid little Zoe Zola, the last one on the register at school who always had to wait for everyone else to be called before she could say anything. I know my married name is further up the register but you don’t get married at school do you, and the damage is done by then. Zoe Zero was my nickname, always last.
It’s weird really, I mean why should a security system that you can’t see make you feel safe, but somehow if I knew that no one was looking then I could do what I wanted; like look at kink on the computer and be naked all the time. I really liked that, I could be nude all day, in the house and in the garden. It was great to be able to walk out of the back door knowing that if the system wasn’t bleeping then I could be as brazen as I liked. There is something wonderfully free about spending a whole day naked. I do it for hubby of course, because I know he likes it, but it’s almost better when he is away; like when he’s gone for several days and I’ve been nude the whole time.
In some ways we didn’t really need a security system to help our privacy, the way the house is lined up and the way the windows point no one could look in without some effort, but now if anyone did try then the system would be bleeping before they had a chance to see anything.
I’ve got a good figure and being nude a lot encourages me to work out and keep it that way. I have a few big mirrors around the house so I can catch glimpses of myself. I don’t have the best tits in the world but they don’t need any help to look kind of pert and my narrow waist and well curved bum all help. So that’s me, most days; nude, with a nice tan from lying in the sun in the garden, doing housework and then rewarding myself with a bit of kink on the computer before I get some more sun and then cook for hubby on the days he’s home.
The kink was my undoing I guess. I came across an article on the Internet about figging. It described making a butt plug out of ginger and didn’t spare any details. It had nothing to do with figs.
I couldn’t get it out of my head. I’d played with a few toys in most places at one time or another and I will even own up to putting a few vegetables where they are not supposed to go. If a cucumber is the right shape and reminds me of a cock, well you know the rest. Ginger is obviously more serious but I couldn’t really imagine what it would be like. I think that’s why I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was it like a vibrator? Where would you feel the heat? How long could I stand it? Was it sexy or just a kinky torture? Well you can guess what happened; I was shopping and saw this big piece of ginger and one thing led to another, so by the time I got home with it I was already wet and had to peel it and shape it straight away.
I fashioned the plug carefully wearing rubber gloves so that I didn’t get ginger all over my fingers. I’ve done that before and accidentally rubbed my eyes and it can sting for a while, really sting. If my eyes were going to water it was going to be because of the ginger up my arse not from stupidly getting it anywhere else. Although I started with a big piece of ginger it didn’t come out as a massive plug and I was a bit worried about it slipping inside and staying there. I got a big cooking skewer and pushed a hole through from one end to the other and then threaded a piece of string through it and stuck a blob of Sugru on the end so I could pull it out in an emergency.
I washed it clean and stood looking at my handiwork for a while and then took a deep breath and started sliding it in. If it had been a butt plug I would have used some lubrication but I didn’t want to risk spoiling any effect. Nothing much happened for a couple of minutes. It was a bit of a giggle walking round the house naked with a piece of string dangling from my arse. Gradually it started to get warm and I realised what the article meant. After about 10 minutes I was getting hot and masturbating a bit as I started to enjoy the sensation. I sat in the armchair with my legs spread and getting hotter by the second. After a couple of minutes it was beginning to scare me so I thought I’d take it out and maybe try again later to see if I could stand it for a bit longer. I was curious to know if the heat disappeared straight away or did it last? I got up and kind of bent over a bit so I could pull on the string to help it out when the phone rang.
I reached up and hit the hands free button on the phone, thinking it would just be some junk call selling something. I was stunned when the voice said,
‘Leave it in.’
It sent shivers down my spine, who was it? How could he know? I froze half bent over, clutching the string behind my back.
‘Stay bent over and leave the ginger where it is. Let go of the string.’
I was still frozen. ‘How can you see me?’
‘Stand up and turn on the TV.’
I got up and did like the voice said, I don’t know why I didn’t just hang up the phone. Maybe it was the commanding tone in his voice, maybe it was because my brain was paralysed by what was happening. I put on the TV and picked up the remote.
‘Turn to channel 901.’
‘There isn’t a channel 901.’
‘Do it.’
I punched in the numbers and up came a picture of me, standing there, facing the camera, naked. That was a shock I can tell you, how could it be there? It was as though it was a picture into a different world. I felt as though I had completely lost my bearings. First I saw myself full frontal. Vain little pervert that I am, I couldn’t help thinking that I looked good. The shocked surprise on my face gave me an air of vulnerable, fractured innocence. Cute really. The picture changed and I saw my rear end with; I couldn’t help staring at it trying to see the ginger. The string looked liked a thin scraggly tail and I wished I’d used something more sexy.
‘Lets see an action replay shall we?’ said the voice, and I stood there as pictures of me in the kitchen shaping the piece of ginger came on, then it changed to me putting it in my butt and then I was spread out on the chair playing with myself. I sat down, paying no attention to the way it rammed the ginger up me, I was starting to shake.
‘Stay right where you are, stand up again and spread your legs.’
Like a zombie I stood and spread.
‘How?’ I said. ‘How can you see me?’
‘Remember that nice friendly guy who installed your cable and the ever so cheap burglar alarm.’ I nodded.
I never knew that people really do go weak at the knees, it’s a cliché, right; but my legs were actually shaking. It wasn’t just that it felt like that, I could see the vibration live on high definition TV. I wished we’d bought a smaller screen. Less detail might have helped; I could see my cunt dripping, and so could whoever was watching.
‘What … what, have you got?’ it was difficult to get the words out, my voice was trembling as well as the rest of me.
‘About forty hours of you wandering around the house nude and playing with yourself, stuffing various vegetables in interesting places, as well as today’s star turn. From now on you will perform what I want, when I want it, or your husband gets to see the tapes, as well as a few friends of yours that I have traced from things you said.’
I was paralysed, I couldn’t think of anything I could do. He had me. I should have been able to think of something but I have always had this fantasy about being a slave, being owned. It comes from all that humiliation at school, the worthless Zoe Zero. In only a couple of minutes this guy, whoever he was, owned me.
‘Who sees this?’ I managed to say eventually, I prayed he would say only me.
‘A small private club who have paid a lot to join.’
Oh boy! The idea of whole squads of dirty old men sprang into my head as I thought about them all ogling at me. I am a bit of an exhibitionist and there was a certain sort of buzz about the idea as well as an appalling sense of dread as I realised what I was getting into.
‘How many people have you done this to?’ I was imagining whole squads of naked housewives.
‘Enough to make a nice little business, turn to 902.’
I punched in the numbers and there was another naked woman, I half expected to see some sort of vegetable in place but I almost jumped when I saw that she had the vacuum cleaner handle up her pussy. She was standing there naked rocking to and fro screwing herself on the handle, I turned up the sound and sure enough I could hear the cleaner roaring away, I could imagine the vibration. I could hear her moaning as she swayed. The screen went blank.
‘You’ve seen enough; you need a password for any more. Your secret is safe with me but you belong to me now. Get the string that you used and cut enough to go around your neck.’
I walked shakily into the kitchen, still plugged with ginger, and getting hotter all the time. I returned with the string. As I walked in I saw myself on the TV. It was obvious that I was sweating slightly and not walking quite naturally. I tried to straighten up and look dignified and sexy, clenching myself and squeezing the ginger which gave a great sensation. I was desperate to play with myself and cum but I wasn’t going to be left alone yet.
‘Face the camera in the corner.’
I turned, looking sideways at the TV.
‘You don’t need to see the TV.
‘Put the string in your dripping cunt and leave it there. Spread yourself on the floor face up, legs spread and frig yourself for one minute. Don’t come.’
I don’t know which was worse, the ginger or knowing that someone was watching. How many were tuned in I wondered.
‘Your audience is twelve men,’ the voice said, ‘but there will be more when we market you properly. Now stand up and remove the string. I pulled it out, wet and gooey. Tie it around your neck. This is your temporary collar, a proper one will be delivered shortly.
I glanced across at the TV, and there I was naked apart from the string around my neck. As I watched the picture I realised just how good the cameras were. As it focused in I could see every twist of the string soaked in my juices with a glistening mark on my neck where I’d wiped the ends against my skin as I tied the bow. I’ve read about slaves being collared. They make it sound romantic, but this was something else. A caption came up.
Cable slave – price negotiable.
‘That’s how I will be marketing you, you are going to give my clients a lot of entertainment but we need to start your training. I hope you are enjoying the ginger, it’s going to stay in there a while longer.’
I must have looked desperate because I could hear him laughing.
‘It does you good to sweat, slut, but we need to put you through your paces. I’ve seen your wardrobe so go and get your black lycra tights. Don’t take out the ginger, I’m watching. Pick up the phone upstairs.’
I walked upstairs and found the tights, the ginger in my butt was working overtime as I walked up the stairs. I picked up the phone.
‘Put on three pairs of tight panties, and then the lycra tights, we don’t want it coming out.’
What could I do? I put on the panties then the tights.
‘Now that pair of blue jeans, the ones you have to struggle into. On top, a blouse please, no bra.’
I struggled into the jeans which was a hell of a job on top of the lycra tights. I hunted around and found a blouse.
‘Great, you look great, now that nice pair of black boots.’
I groaned inwardly, he was deliberately picking things that I could not get out of in a hurry. How did he know so much about me? He must have watched my every move for weeks. I got into the boots and picked up the phone again. Seeing myself in the mirror I was sexy but in a kind of sweaty wild way. Any one who looked at me at all could tell I was desperate to be fucked. I could hardly stop myself squirming around, the tight clothes were making the ginger hotter and hotter.
‘There’s an old bicycle lock and cable in the junk drawer in the kitchen, fetch it and wait in the living room.’
Did he know everything about my life? I can’t remember when I last looked in that drawer. How does he know we call it the junk drawer? What was he going to do now? Was I going to be locked up? I walked to the kitchen wondering how many people were watching my sweaty face as I tried to look composed. I came back with the lock and wire cable and stood in front of one of the cameras.
‘Thread the cable as a belt and pull it tight and lock it. I want it tight enough to pull your waist in, so you can’t get the jeans off.’
I threaded it around me and pulled it into my waist, it’s a good waist anyway and this made me look better still. I clunked the padlock into place.
‘Put the key on the table where I can see it.’ There was no getting out of these jeans now until he let me pick up that key. It was a hell of a feeling. My ass was on fire, I could hardly think of anything else but the heat up inside me and I was giving away the key. As I put that key on the table I felt totally enslaved.
‘Drive to the nearest adult store. You know where I mean?’
I gave him an address.
‘That’s the one. Take your mobile with you, when you get there park and wait for instructions.’
