Late for her birthday dinner

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sands_erica
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Late for her birthday dinner

Post by sands_erica »

I knew it was my house mate, Jenny’s, birthday. She was ten years my senior and doesn’t have many friends, so I had promised that I would be home for dinner with her. I had been out for a few sneaky beers after work and time got away from me, and then on the way home the tube broke down. Damn it.
I ran to the front door and fumbled with the keys in the cold and eventually threw the door open and yelled “Sorry,”
I waited quietly for a reply but none came. I heard the clinging and clanking of cutlery and dishes from the kitchen, so I made my way straight there, removing my jacket and leather gloves as I did.
“Jenny,” I said rounding the corner.
There she was in her favourite frilly white skirt apron with the pink polkadots and pink rubber gloves almost up to her elbows stacking dishes, pots and pans to the side with the tap running, she was filling up the basin. The place smelled lovely, roast lamb, by the smell of it. I couldn’t see my dinner anywhere, so presumed she had put it away in anger.
“I’m sorry but there was an accident and the tube had broken down,”
Jenny was maybe in her mid forties, she was taller than me by a foot with old fashioned red curly hair. She wasn’t super fit or anything, just stocky. I had always guessed her to be a lesbian, I am not sure why, probably her looks for one, she never has men around the house, except for me, and she does Jiu Jitsu. She is very proud of being a women who can look after herself. Although, she usually take care of the house and cleaning, etc, just like a mother figure, while I pay the rent and for some food, and help out with tougher tasks, like plumbing, etc..
Jenny turned toward me and was clearly pissed off.
“Well, the dishes are waiting for you,” she said, indicating to the sink with one gloved hand extending out.
I hesitated. I never wash the dishes. I couldn't tell if it was an empty threat or not. But she didn’t budge. I guess that I have messed up here and it is her birthday, after all.
“Sure,” I said and walked toward the sink, unsure.
I shut off the running water and looked around not sure where to start and I felt her move in close beside me.
“Well,”
“Okay, okay,” I said, looking for a sponge or something.
I bent down and opened the cupboard below the sink. I had seen her do this before, I had never done this before, I don’t know what is in here and don’t know what I am looking for.
“You have no idea, do you?” she asked.
“No, not really,” I admitted standing up.
“Right,”
She undid her apron, pulled it over her head and back down over my head.
“Good and these,” she said, tearing off her rubber gloves, she held them both out for me to take.
“Really?”
“Really,”
“I don’t..”
“Put them on. This is my kitchen and you will do what I say,”
Crap. I did what she said, I took the rubber gloves and fitted them.
“I feel humiliated,”
“Why?”
“Because guys don’t wear this shit,”
“What shit?”
“These,” I said, holding up my gloved hands, “and this,” I pulled at the apron.
“I wear them,” she said, “They are my favourite apron and gloves. I have other there if you want to,” she said, moving to the cupboard and pulling out a few more aprons that were hanging up.
“No. They suit you, they look great on you,”
“They look great on you,” she said, “in fact, you should wear them more often,”
“Yeah, right,” I laughed.
“I’m not kidding. I’ve seen the way you react around me when I am wearing gloves. I have seen you smelling those gloves and grabbing your crutch. You’re a dirty little bastard, aren't you. I bet you have a hard on now,” she said.
I did. I tried to lean forward a bit so the apron would cover it.
“I bet you love when I take charge, too,”
I did, but i ignored her.
“Huh? You are not saying anything,” she said, moving closer to me.
I started backing away.
She stopped in front of the sink and opened door, retrieving another pair of yellow rubber gloves. Looking at me, she slowly pulled them on in front of me. My eyes couldn’t help but watch her.
“Look, you are mesmerised. I own you right now. And how is this guy going?” she reached down to touch my package and I pulled away.
“Get over here and wash these bloody dishes,” she yelled, grabbing my arm, pulling me forward and shoving me in front of the sink.
As I started washing q glass, she put an arm around me and dragged one of the rubber gloves across my mouth and nose, the smell of rubber filling my senses and my hard on growing hard against the bench. She forced a couple of the rubber fingers into my mouth, feeling around the teeth and gums, squeaking as they did. I found myself sucking the fingers.
“That’s the way, there you go,” she spoke softly into my ear. “Don’t stop those dishes, you keep going. Her body was now pressing up against mine.
“Now that I know your weakness, I am going to have to exploit it more often. What do you think about that?” she continued.
“Yes,” I tried to speak with the yellow gloved fingers in my mouth.
“what’s that?” she said again more sternly, taking the fingers out of my mouth.
“Yes,”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, you should exploit my weakness more often,”
“Just what I thought. Well you can get used to this pretty apron here,” she said tugging at the apron, “I am giving it to you. It is my favourite, so you look after it,”
“Yes,”
“And those gloves, they are yours, too,”
“Yes,”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, thank you,”
“Now you were fucking late home tonight and it was my birthday. Do you know how that made me feel?”
I stopped washing the glass that was in my hand and looked up at her.
“Fucking horrible,” she said, “I ate on my own watching that god awful television on my birthday,”
I didn’t know what to say.
She turned around and grabbed a wooden spoon from the draw behind her and spun back around.
“Put the glass down,” she insisted.
I just looked at her
“Put it down,”
I put it down.
She reached around and undid my belt.
“what are you doing?”
“Punishing you,”
I didn’t stop her. She pulled down my jeans and I grabbed the bench trying not to fall over, as she pulled the jeans over and from my legs. Next my underwear, straight down and off.
Next, she pushed me forward, so my head was over the bubbly water in the sink, the aroma of the flowery dish liquid was strong.
“Keep your hands on the bench and your head down. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said, and I did.
Thwack. The sting on my right arse cheek jolted my head up.
“Down,” she said, pushing my head back down.
Thwack. This time on the left arse cheek.
“Fuck,” I yelled.
“Watch your mouth or you get a good mouth washing, too. Head down,”
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
“Son of a bitch,” I said, pulling my head up in pain and reaching around to cover my arse.
“Right.” she said, grabbing both my hands.
Next thing I know my gloved hands were bound together behind my back with something. I didn’t know what, but I couldn’t move them. She shoved me forward and held my head down over the sink.
“Now you are going to think twice before you swear in this house, again,”
She grabbed the sponge that I was using to wash the dishes and soaked in the water in front of my face, her yellow gloves glistening and squeaking as she did so, then she shoved it into my mouth, scrubbing my tounge and the insides of my cheeks. Then she dropped the sponge and just used her gloved fingers.
Next thing I know she has pulled me back up by the back of the neck and she clamped the wet soapy yellow rubber glove around my mouth and nose.
“You like this, don’t you?” she spoke softly into my ear.
I nodded, my verbal agreement was muffled.
“Yes, you do. I have seen your internet history, I am not stupid. Consider our living arrangement changed. From now on you will serve me. How does that sound?”
She removed the glove from my mouth to allow me to answer an affirmative. She then slapped the hand back over the mouth and clamped the nose. It stung my face.
“Good, consider it my birthday present from you. An everlasting birthday present. Now, I have a present for you,”
Jenny’s other gloved hand went into the soapy water and then she grabbed my hard cock under the apron and started slowly jerking it.
“From this point forward, I will be the only one touching your cock, that means not you or anyone else. Do you understand?”
I nodded and found I was running shy of air, but the gloved handed didn’t relent.
“Good. And only I will choose when to touch your cock. Now enjoy this one, as it maybe a while before you can get another one off,”
I was struggling to get a breathe in and missed what she said. I started moving my head from side to side to try and break free of her grasp but couldn’t do so. Her stroking got faster and faster, harder and harder. I was trying to break the grasp over my face, I needed air and had started seeing stars but she managed to keep my head very still pulling it hard against her chest. My penis was at maximum potentially, I was ready to burst.
I closed my eyes and gave in to the ecstasy. The explosion was immense, my body went limp, held up only by Jenny and my weak legs.
The rubber glove came off my mouth, I could breathe again and did so heavily. I regained my strength. My hands were unbound and I leaned against the kitchen bench. I saw my cum all over the kitchen sinks doors and the floor.
“So, we have a deal then?”
I looked up and saw Jenny there in her white blouse and black skirt, with both yellow gloved hands our front, the left hand cradling some of the the cum. She looked in control, she looked dominant, she looked beautiful.
“You are mine, now, and you will be serving me,”
I wasn’t attracted to her in a physical sense, she was older and more like an aunty, but I was under her control, I couldn’t help it, i could only submit to her at that time, as much as I completely underestimated the consequences.
“Yes,” I said.
“Say it,” she said.
“I am yours now, and I will be serving you,”
“So be it,” she said, without smiling, "You have work to do and then it will be your turn to pleasure me,"
Tomglover
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Re: Late for her birthday dinner

Post by Tomglover »

Great story , i look forward to more
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