Self care

She walked alone after a long day of work. Her body tired, mind still preoccupied with the next days schedule. On one should her laptop bag dug down against her tender skin. A purse in the other hand also carrying three bags of groceries. She clenched her keys tightly as she approached the sketchy corner on the side of her apartment building.

A busted fence holding back trees and vines. The brush always seemed to be rustling from some strange feral amimal. “Just cats.” She thought to herself. The cooling autumn air made her smile, but the coughing fits she had over the last few days had stolen her voice. A shiver ran down her spine; just tired. She chided her herself. As she passed down the unlit alley her mind raced and with heart hammering in her chest Nicole finds herself standing in the faint yellow glow of the only outside lamp on this corner.

The sound of something dragging behind her propels her towards the apartment door. Number 13, the familiar knob feels comforting and she pushes to allow herself inside. Smiling at the enthusiastic greeting of her pets she gingerly sets the heavy load down.  Her usual song and dance for them shelved for the day. She gathers her small dogs up and squeezes them tight.
Nicole sinks into the welcoming cushions of her couch. Curling up with a few pillows and her favorite quilt. Vaguely noting she needs to save the groceries and recharge her cell phone. But, the pull of the day and the warmth from her happy welcoming committee lull her to sleep.

She opens her eyes slowly to the sun streaming in. Body aching from whatever odd angle she had dozed off in. The world still blurry from slumber she smiles softly and closes her eyes again.

“Not so fast my little worker bee. I’ve been waiting so long for you to wake up.”

Nicole panics and tries to stand up. Tries to move at all, only to find herself tangled in what she imagines to be the quilt. The soft cushion underneath her not the couch she remembers falling asleep on, but the oversized ottoman usually located in the living room. Her feet cold and touching the ceramic tile of the dining room, sending chills up exposed and spread legs. Revealing every private part of her between them. The air moving over the delicate folds of skin so normally concealed and gaurded. A brief evaluation reminding her that it was very much time to go to the bathroom. The tank top and bra normally worn to work still on but ruined. Someone having cut holes into them to uncover her large breasts. Her hands bound beneath them to hold them up and attention as if she were presenting them for display. Shoulders, elbows, hips, knees, and ankles securely fastened with what she figured must be the few yards of rope left in her toy bag.

A cold finger moves slowly up the sensitive inside of her right thigh. Reaching the juncture between, pulling on the untrimmed hair there. A moment of shame courses through her body. The pulling increases and she tries to cry. Try to scream stop. Only to remember, she has no voice. A scratchy low sound escapes her lips. The feeling of little paws scratch her leg, her babies pleading to be held.

“Don’t worry to much about them. We have been spending lots of time together. I come in every evening once you’ve fallen asleep and play my games with you. The dogs and I have become very good friends. I enjoy seeing them. I enjoy being a part of your family Nicole.”

Nicole begins to tremble wildly, memories from what she thought were just erotic dreams bubble to the surface. The faceless lover that had not failed to visit her for the last three months. The sadistic and passionate games she thought were only dreams. Were they all real? Wet sheets and a swollen sex. Remembering all of the things she had told herself was just a result of not having an actual sexual relationship. Her nipples tighten responding to the memories. The tugging on the hair between her legs increasing ever so slightly as tears slip out unnoticed from under her long eyeslashes.

“I’ve been training you for this. But, had gotten so worried when I noticed a week ago you were running a fever in your sleep. I sent an email to your clients saying that you would be unavailable as you had developed a medical issue that needed immediate attention. Everyone was very understanding. Your clients care a great deal about you. Now since you’re here and know so much about these essential oils maybe you can help me learn some too. I plan on being a large part of your life and want to meet you on your level. Common interests are important you know.”

Nicole looks over with apprehension at the large glass front cabinet in her dining room. Her love of therapeutic essential oils evident in the hundreds of dollars worth of product just behind a locked glass door. All beneficial is used properly.

“I’ve spent lots of time reading in your books about them.”

The pull between her legs creating a hot  swollen feeling. Encouraging blood to fill the area, her labia pushing against one another. A slow trickle forming and slipping lower to tickle secret parts.

“I’ve spent many hours searching which oils you respond best too. For example when I take this here.”

A gloved hand reached out and four drops on each nipple fell to cool her exposed nipples. Rubber fingers working harshly and quickly as a moan attempts to escape tired vocal cords.

“A mixture of peppermint and cinnamon really brings these to life. Especially when we add these.”

Without delay metal clothespins were applied to each rigid nub. Air rushing through parted dry lips with a ragged cry following.

“I’ve learned you can take quite a bit of pain Nicole. I’ve learned that you actually prefer it. See I’ve penetrated every hole of mine that you carry around for me. I’ve learned that you really respond when you have something in here. I fear I’m a little excited, so today will be just about me relieving my own passions. Be brave for me, none of this will be easy for you. But it’s obvious that you don’t want it to be.”

Nicole’s body fighting against the large rounded head of some unknown invader pushing into her tightest of holes. Her head thrown back as tears flow freely, the warm smell of melting coconut oil wafting up to her. As a rubber covered hand pushes firmly on her distended belly. Pushing with conviction against her very full bladder. Short twisting strokes angled up against her soft tissue adding more pressure to her long neglected body.

“I know that you must need to use the bathroom terribly. I promise to take care of you in your time of need. Don’t worry about anything, we have all the time we need.”

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Self care