Invisible Girl - An Erotic Romance Pt. 01

"Bend down and touch your toes. Feet apart."

Again she bent forward, until her face was at the level of her knees, and reached down to touch the tips of her shoes. To do that she had had to let go of her skirt, so at least she was covered again, even if her behind was practically in his face.

Her relief was short-lived, however, when she felt her skirt being lifted from behind and raised over her hips. She felt the clammy air of the bathroom on the backs of her legs. He was lifting up her dress! She almost let go and straightened up, but caught herself. There was nothing she could do.

Oh god, now her behind really was almost in his face, not to mention her... Oh god, now he could see it for sure!

She was distracted from her thoughts by a delicate, moth-like touch on the back of her right knee, moving in slow circles. This was joined by another...and then two more. Four little moths, first moving gently down her calf, then slowly back up to her knee. Slowly circling down...then back up, a little higher this time. Down a little...then slowly...a little higher.

They actually felt very nice, these little moths, even if the position she was in wasn't very comfortable. But they were getting very close to the edge of her panties! Oh god, they were there! First they traced the lace edge around her hip toward the front of her thigh, then slowly began to drift back. Oh god, they were slipping under the elastic--they were under her panties!

She desperately wanted to move, or to at least cry out to stop, but she didn't dare, as they traced their way over the lower part of her behind, getting closer and closer to her... He was going to touch her there! Her breath was practically gasping as he...stopped.

His fingers slipped out from under her panties--thank god! They hesitated for a moment, then slowly continued on, up onto her behind. Then she felt his whole hand there, warm, lazily fondling first one mound, then the other, as if smoothing out wrinkles in her panties. She felt a small electric shock as one finger drifted into the valley between her cheeks and pressed there momentarily.

The hand then continued upward, first sliding up and under her turtleneck--again that warmth, now on her lower back, then drifting down again, this time dwindling again to one small moth-touch, now tracing the top of her panties, now slipping--oh god--beneath the elastic. Oh no, he couldn't, he wouldn't pull down her panties, would he? She would die of shame.

But no: the finger seemed to be gathering up the material as if he were going to pull her panties up. He was pulling them up, tighter--she could feel them pulling between her cheeks--and tighter! They were beginning to...oh my god, she could feel the pressure on her...oh god, oh god, oh....

The pressure gradually eased off as he removed his hand. She felt her panties loosen slightly. Thank goodness. Now they were done, she was sure.

"All right...stand and face me."

She did so, relieved to feel her dress falling back into place. She said, "Please, are we done? Can I go home now?"

He shook his head and replied, "Mm-mm," as casually as if she'd just asked if he knew the time.

He suddenly leaned forward and took her by the wrists, staring into her eyes. "You don't get it yet, do you? From now on you're my slave."

Jane felt a jolt of ice in her stomach and her mouth fell open in dismay.

He released her and sat back. "I think you need a little review. What do you have to do?"

She swallowed, and forced herself to say the words. "W-whatever you tell me."

He nodded. "Mm-hm. So what are you?"

Oh god, he's right, she thought.

"I'm...your...slave?" She phrased it as a question, even though she knew it wasn't.

He nodded again, as if encouraging her. "That's right...slave. And what else are you?"

Her mind went blank. Then she remembered. "I'm...a little...s-slut."

Oh god.

"Very good. So that means from now on you're my little slut, right?"

It seemed to Jane that he was holding his breath as he waited for her answer, but she had no idea why. He knew she had no choice, didn't he?

Again she forced herself to speak. "Y-yes." She started to look down in embarrassment but caught herself in time. "I'm your li-little slut."

There it was again: his eyes went wide, just for an instant. As if he couldn't believe what was happening any more than she could. Then it was gone.

He nodded a third time. "Good. Don't forget."

He held her in his gaze again. "Now, slave, I want you to say, 'Please, may I..." he watched her face as he concluded, "take off my dress for you?'"

Jane, shocked in spite of everything that had already happened, opened her mouth to argue, to plead.

His eyes blazed and he started to rise to his feet. Immediately she fell silent.

After a moment he slowly resumed his seat. "You were about to say something, slave?"

Well, she thought, he's already seen my panties, what difference can it make now?

She took a slow breath and let it out. "Please...m-may I take off my dress for you?"

"You may." He leaned back against the wall and looked up at her as if waiting for a movie to begin.

She reached both hands behind her neck to unfasten and begin unzipping her jumper, then reached behind her to complete the job, looking at him all the while. Then she slowly pulled down first one shoulder of the dress, then the other. She pulled her arms out of the sleeve-holes. The front of her dress now hung below her waist. She stopped for a moment, as if considering, then tugged at the waistline of her dress, which slid slowly down over her hips and puddled at her feet. She stood with her arms at her sides.

Even though she wasn't really any more exposed than she had been before she certainly felt as if she were. Especially since the contours of her small breasts were now plainly visible under her turtleneck, as he had plainly noticed.

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Very good. Now let's find out if you've learned anything. What do you think your next question should be?"

She didn't have to think about it for long, and she knew now there was no way to avoid it. "Please, may I take off my sweater for you?"

He gave her a thin smile of approval. "Very good, slave. You may."

She wasted no time trying to delay the inevitable. She crossed her arms in front of her and pulled the turtleneck over her head in one smooth motion, dropping it on the floor beside her. Her bra matched her panties, and she felt obscurely glad about that fact. No worse than a bathing suit, she told herself desperately, dropping her hands back to her sides.

He looked at her for a long moment without speaking.

She had been too overwhelmed before to notice but now she became aware that his breath, too, was unsteady. And there, again: something in his eyes...what was it?

Then it was gone again as he spoke. "Stand with your feet apart and put your hands behind your head."

She did so, and instantly became very much aware of how this position made her breasts more prominent, and even more aware that he knew it. He was looking at them now--his gaze almost like a touch as it moved slowly down from her face to her breasts, down her waist to linger on her panties for a moment, then just as slowly back up.

He leaned back again, as if to take in the whole picture.

"Close your eyes."

She did so. Nothing happened for a moment. In the darkness behind her eyes she became aware of sounds and smells--the low hum of the ventilation system, the gurgling pipes, the disinfectant odor of the bathroom, the growing sense of warmth near her stomach...

When she felt his hand there she started and inadvertently began to open her eyes, then shut them again, hoping he hadn't noticed.

Now everything else, the sounds and smells, vanished, leaving only the feel of his hand, warm--hot!--on her stomach.

For a moment it simply rested there, covering her navel. Then it began to move, at first making only the tiniest of circles, which gradually grew wider and wider until his hand was circling her whole abdomen, but slowly...so slowly.

It really felt wonderful, she admitted to herself, even if she really shouldn't be allowing it. So soothing, after she'd been so scared and upset.

She felt herself relax a little, her head falling back slightly. She had to keep herself from sighing audibly. And it felt almost natural when the slow circle of warmth continued to rise until it covered her left breast, fondling and molding it through the thin cloth of her bra.

Oh god, she really was a little slut, not only letting this boy she hardly knew touch her like that, but enjoying it. Oh, but she shouldn't be enjoying it, mustn't let him know. Could he hear how her breath was rasping in and out of her mouth? Mustn't let him think she was letting him do it for any other reason than because she had to. What was that? There was a tingling, almost bursting sensation in the tip of her breast.

Oh my god, my nipple is getting hard! Maybe he won't see it through my bra! Don't let him see it, don't let him see it...

But when she felt her nipple gently but firmly seized between two fingers, she couldn't help herself--she gasped. And then she felt his other hand on her right breast, doing the same thing--squeezing it, molding it, circling the nipple until it too popped up, then seizing it, pinching and gently pulling it in time with the other.

Her breasts felt full of heat, like small volcanoes, and she felt as if her nipples must be glowing red-hot. And now she felt another warmth, a different, melting, liquid warmth, somewhere below.

Between her legs. It seemed to be growing, spreading out into her stomach, her hips... Oh god, she could hardly stand, her legs were giving way. A moan escaped her lips...

Immediately, everything stopped. Her breasts felt suddenly cool as his hands were taken away. Her eyes flew open, and she stood, desperately trying to breathe normally, as he leaned back and regarded her, crossing his arms as he did so.

"You really are a bad little girl, aren't you? You steal things, you take off your clothes in front of a boy..."

As if it had been her idea!

"And now...this." He slowly unfolded his arms then pointed between her legs.

She looked down, her hands still locked behind her head. There was a dark, wet stain between her legs, extending several inches upward in a semi-circle. She had wet her panties, and right in front of him!

She gasped, "Oh!"

She couldn't control herself; she pressed her knees together and bent forward, covering her face with her hands, trying not to cry. But even as she collapsed into shame, a tiny part of her mind wondered that she hadn't noticed herself peeing...and that there was no pee smell! But what else could it be?

He waited for a minute or two until he sensed her beginning to collect herself, then said, "All right, that's enough. Return to your position."

Oh, wasn't he done yet?

"Oh, please, my panties..."

"Are wet. And we're about to deal with that. Return to your position, slave."

Sniffling a little as she did so, she slowly complied and stood once again with her hands locked behind her head and her feet apart. She could still sense the cooling wet spot between her legs and felt her face burning with shame, which only got deeper as she saw him continue to look there.

"Oh yes," he said, nodding as if to himself, "only very bad little girls wet their panties like that." He looked up at her. "Right?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"So that makes you a very bad little girl, doesn't it?"

She felt tears starting in her eyes, and shut them tightly as she quavered, "Y-yes."

"Open your eyes. Look at me."

She did, still feeling the tears at the corners of her eyes.

He continued, "Yes...what?"

She felt a tear running down one cheek, then a second one on the other. "Yes--I..." She gulped. "I'm...I'm a very bad little girl." She felt a tear drip from the side of her face and land on her shoulder.

"For wetting my panties," he prompted her.

"For...w-wetting my, my p-p-panties." Her lips were quivering so badly that she could hardly speak, and the tears now ran freely down her face.

"Say it again."

"I'm a...a very...b-bad...little...little...girl.... For...w-w-wetting..." She began to sob, gasping for breath. "Wetting my...wetting my pa-an-an-ties!", she whimpered.

She could never have imagined such complete humiliation in her worst nightmares. Here she was, standing in a bathroom stall, crying like a baby, standing in front of a boy while wearing nothing but her undies, a big wet stain on her panties plainly visible between her spread legs. She wished the floor would open and swallow her up.

But she stayed in her position.

He watched her in silence for a moment. Then he said, quietly, "Do you know what happens to bad little girls?"

She was speechless, her mind numb with shame. She managed to shake her head slightly as she continued to sob.

"Give me your hands."

She slowly removed her hands from behind her head and held them out to him. He took one wrist in each of his hands and drew her slowly toward him. He continued to pull her, now past his knees, as if he wanted her to sit next to him, even though there was no way she could do so.

Then he gave her arms a sudden pull and she fell, sprawling face down across his lap, her head almost hitting the wall as her legs slid under the partition in the other direction. He pinned her there with his left arm.

Then he leaned down and whispered into her ear, "This is what happens to bad little girls."

She hadn't even recovered from the shock of falling across his lap when the first blow landed on her behind--a heavy, open-handed slap.

Oh god, how it stung! Her tears were forgotten instantly and she opened her mouth to scream, but before she could he covered her mouth with his left hand.

"Shhh", he said. She heard him unrolling toilet paper with his other hand, and before she knew what was happening he had uncovered her mouth and stuffed in a huge wad of it. Then he pinned her hands behind her back with his left hand.

There was silence. Five seconds. Ten seconds...

The second blow fell even harder than the first. Her behind felt as if it had been stung simultaneously by a hundred bees. She writhed in his lap and tried again to scream, but all that came out was a muffled, "Nnnnnn!'

A third blow. An agonizing pause. Another blow. Each time, her back would arch, and she would kick her feet and try to scream, but to no avail.

"NNNnnnn!"

Waiting for the next blow was worse than receiving it--never knowing when it would arrive until it exploded on her backside.

Her behind was on fire, it was burning! And with each blow the fire seemed to burn its way a little deeper inside her. In fact the blows really weren't as bad as the waiting; the heat inside felt almost...pleasant. Almost like the warmth she had felt earlier, that melting, liquid....

SMACK!

"NNNnnnnNN!"

By the time the tenth blow had landed, her tears were gone, as she needed every bit of concentration just to breathe. Then she felt her hands being released, and he helped her to her feet.

"Stand over there and take that stuff out of your mouth."

She stood in front of him again and removed the paper from her mouth, wiping her face and nose before dropping it on the floor beside her. Without being told she raised her hands behind her head.

Her behind felt as if it received a ferocious sunburn. She looked at him and saw that he was now sweating profusely as well as breathing heavily as he looked up at her and spoke.

"Now. Are you sorry you were such a bad little girl?"

"Yes. I-I'm sorry I was such a bad little girl."

"Good. Of course, you still have a lot to make up for--that was just for wetting your panties."

She didn't dare look down, but somehow it seemed as though her panties were even wetter than they were before--almost dripping...

No! Don't think about it!

He continued, "There's something I want you to do." He looked at her carefully, as if trying to judge her response. "If you do as you're told...then you'll be done."

Done! Jane started to take a deep breath, imagining the nightmare almost over, but then he added, "For today."

Her face fell, but only slightly. She would be free for the rest of the day, and the weekend! Visions of a hot bath rose up in her mind. Then to bed with a book...and lots of pillows, to sit on as well as put behind her. Heaven!

She nodded and whispered, "All right. What do you want me to do?"

"For starters, get down on your knees."

By now, any thought of disobeying him was impossible. She sank to the floor amid her cast-off clothing, her knees immediately cold on the tiles. She sat back on her heels, but he said, "You'll need to be upright for this, slave."

She rose again to her knees. As she was doing so, he stood up--and she found herself with her nose almost touching his belt-buckle. She looked up at him, questioningly.

He met her gaze, and said, "Now I want you to say, "Please, may I undo your belt?"

Was he going to show her his underwear? Why? No matter.

"Please, may I undo your belt?"

"Yes, you may."

She reached up and held on to his braided leather belt with her left hand as she pulled the end through the loop and freed it from the buckle so that they both hung loosely. She let her hands drop again to her sides and looked up at him.

"Now say, "Please, may I unbutton your pants?"

"Please, may I unbutton your pants?"

"Yes, you may."

Again she reached up, using both hands to unbutton the top of his brown corduroys. Again she dropped her hands back to her sides and looked up.

He seemed to be smiling a little as he continued. "Now you're going to have to work a little harder. I want you to say, "Please, may I unzip your pants?"

Well, that didn't seem any harder. "Please, may I unzip your pants?"

"Yes, you may unzip my pants...with your teeth."

With her teeth? Impossible! Plus, she'd have to put her face right up against the front of his pants, with him watching!

"I'm waiting..."

No choice. She had to try it. Leaving her hands at her sides she leaned forward, nuzzling her way past the hanging belt-buckle and attempting to nudge her way past the fabric that covered his fly. But she kept wobbling as she did so, almost losing her balance more than once.

"Use your hands to steady yourself."

She placed her hands on his hips. There, that was better! Now she was able to get under the fabric with her nose, and finally, after several attempts, seize the tiny silver toggle firmly between her front teeth. She began to pull downward, breathing through her nose and praying that her braces wouldn't get caught.

At first it was difficult, as the bulge in his pants was pressing so tightly against the zipper that it was hard to get the toggle to move. But once she had gotten it over the little hill at the top it seemed to move more smoothly. The flaps of his pants moved aside somewhat as she pulled the toggle lower, which meant that sometimes her nose brushed against his underwear, and she could smell...what? She didn't know: sweat and something else, a warm, almost mushroomy smell. But she didn't find it unpleasant.

As she continued to tug, and more of what was underneath became visible, she couldn't help but be aware of the mysterious bulge, now more clearly defined as it strained against the white fabric of his underwear. It tapered slightly as it neared the top then expanded into a kind of flattened knob.

At long last she had pulled the little toggle as far down as it would go. Her neck and her jaw both ached slightly. Still holding on to his hips, she raised her head to look at him.