[bsmt] [2001-01-30] Her Basement [Fm]
Her Basement, by Rajah Dodger <rdodger@hotmail.com>,
Copyright (c) 2001. All rights reserved, except that electronic
not-for-profit reproduction rights only are explicitly granted
with the stipulation that this authorship and permission note
must remain attached.
Word Count: 3130
The animal in the basement was whimpering again.
My next-door neighbor kept some sort of animal, I thought
perhaps a dog, in her basement. For the last month I would be
awakened at odd hours by a whimpering sound coming from there. I
hadn't actually seen the dog, but then I worked during the day.
I really intended to talk to her about the noise, but I'd never
introduced myself and this didn't seem to be the right way to do
it.
Then my company got bought out by a foreign outfit, and we
all found ourselves on a three-week unexpected paid vacation
while they "reviewed options for local personnel". I wasn't too
worried, since good database administrators with web experience
are hard to come by. Still, I now found myself at loose ends at
8 in the morning instead of hitting the road with the rest of the
work crowd.
I decided this made for a good opportunity, and so a little
after 9:30 I found myself, neatly dressed in slacks and shirt,
ringing the doorbell of my neighbor's house. After a few
minutes, as I was about to give up, the door opened and a rather
attractive-looking matron dressed in a nondescript front-button
housecoat, her hair done up in a neat bun, looked at me
inquiringly. "Yes?" she asked.
I introduce myself, and her attitude became noticeably
warmer. "Oh yes, of course. Well, I'm Helen; won't you come in?
I was just fixing tea, if you'll have some." I followed her in
and took a look around the house. Nice, neatly decorated,
nothing particularly striking about it. We wandered toward the
back of the house and into the kitchen, where a tea kettle was
whistling. She continued, "Aren't you generally at work during
the day? I've been here some time and your house is always so
quiet." I explained about my work situation, and since she had
now mentioned the subject of quiet, I had my opportunity. I
asked her about the pet in the basement.
There was an odd, strained silence, and an indecipherable
look came across her face. "Pet? I don't have any pets."
I explained about the sounds I had heard during the night,
and she shook her head. "The night air carries sounds a good
distance; I'm sorry about your being awoken, but I really don't
know what you were hearing." I think she could tell I wasn't
completely convinced, but I thanked her all the same for
straightening me out.
We continued our tea and chatted about the neighborhood,
city politics, how we came to be here. Somewhere between the
second and third pot I learned that her husband had died some
years back, so she had moved here to get away from the old
memories. I sympathized as best as I could, having never gotten
past the serious dating stage myself. That got my mind
sidetracked, and I took a second look at her face, realizing that
her eyes really were quite striking.
"... woolgathering?" I shook myself, realizing that I
hadn't been paying attention to what she was saying. "I'm
sorry," I replied, "something you said just sent my mind on a
tangent." She smiled accepting my apology, and repeated herself.
"I was remarking that it's really quite important to know one's
neighbors, even in the best of neighborhoods. Sometimes you need
a hand around the house, and you never know just who the person
next door will turn out to be." I nodded at that; then put my
hands up against my temples to steady my head.
"Is something wrong?" she asked with some concern.
I mumbled something about the tea being too strong, I
thought. She offered to let me lie down on her couch if I
needed, but I declined. "It's okay, I've taken up so much of
your morning already. I'll just be toddling on back..." I tried
standing up, and my headache got seriously worse. I stumbled,
and she took my arm in a surprisingly strong grip. "No, no I
must insist," she said overriding my objections. "You're in no
condition right now." I followed her meekly to the drawing room,
and she helped me lie back on the couch. "I'll just leave the
lights off, now, and you can come find me when you're feeling
better."
I thanked her weakly, and let my eyes close. The room was
pleasantly cool, and I heard her footsteps clicking faintly
away...
I opened my eyes once, thinking I was hearing voices, but
the room was blurry and it felt so much better just to lie back
on the couch... Eventually I felt a hand on my cheek, and opened
my eyes to see her face inspecting me, those large brown eyes
focused on mine. "Are you feeling better now?" I sat up
tentatively, and my head stayed fastened to my shoulders. "I
think so." I stood up, and everything seemed to be more or less
normal. "Thank you," I said with some embarrassment, "I don't
know quite what came over me. I must be coming down with
something." She shrugged her shoulders, and suggested that I
might also have been sensitive to something in the herbal tea.
She led me to the front door, and shook my hand warmly as I
took my leave. "Do drop in again," she added with a smile, "it's
so nice to know someone who's home during the day." I thanked
her again, and headed back to my own house, where I noticed with
some surprise I'd spent the entire morning over there. I took
two aspirin and took a long nap, waking late in the afternoon and
feeling much better.
I went out to dinner that evening and caught a movie, and
got a good night's sleep, undisturbed by any sounds from my
neighbor's basement, or wherever they had been coming from.
*****
I spent the next day in the back yard, fixing the gutters
and cleaning out some accumulated debris. At one point I thought
I was being watched, but I looked around and decided I just
wasn't dealing well with not being at work. I did more shopping
than usual, seeing no reason to blow my budget on eating out when
I was just going to be home most of the day. I fixed a few
casseroles and fried up some chicken breasts so I'd have
something convenient whenever I got hungry, then celebrated by
going out to dinner. Hey, I never claimed to be consistent.
About three in the morning I woke up, alert. The sounds
were there again; vague, animal noises. I went to my window and
opened it, listening. It still sounded like it was coming from
her basement.
Coming to a decision, I got dressed in dark clothes and
quietly went out my back door. Outside of the usual traffic
noises, nothing was audible. I went around the side of my house
to the front edge of the mutual fence, looked around to verify
that nobody was around, and crept around the side of her house to
the spot near her back patio where I could see the top of a
window sunk into the ground. On closer inspection, I could tell
it had been painted from the inside, but age had cracked the
paint and there were faint traces of light coming through.
About that time I heard the sound again. It was definitely
a whimpering, like a dog trying to get through a closed door. Up
close, I could now hear something like a voice, although no words
were distinguishable. Then there was silence again, and after a
few minutes I decided discretion was calling for me to get back
home. I turned at the edge of the fence, and looked at her
house, but there was no sign of activity other than the faintest
bit of illumination limning the basement window.
I lay awake, listening, for fifteen more minutes, but
nothing else disturbed the night and I finally fell back to
sleep.
*****
The next morning I got a phone call from Helen. "I'm sorry
to bother you, but I'm having a problem with my cable, and I
don't want to call out the service unless I have to, they take so
long. Would you by any chance know anything about it?" I told
her that I wasn't a cable TV specialist, but that I'd done my
time tracing connection problems with computers and that I'd be
glad to give it a look-see.
When her door opened and I saw Helen again, I took a step
back in surprise. The drab housecoat in which she had first
greeted me was gone; instead she was dressed in a well-cut silk
blouse and a nicely contrasting suede skirt, one which
demonstrated that she had legs to be proud of. She was still
wearing her hair in that teacher-style bun, though. I pulled
myself back together and took her proffered hand, entering the
house as she held the door open. She led me to the back bedroom
where the troublesome television set was located, and stayed as I
got down and rummaged around the back looking at the connections.
Eventually I was able to find a spot where part of the cable had
been frayed and had shorted to the ground sheath. Maybe five
minutes later, I was standing up wiping some sweat off my
forehead and telling her "Okay, if that works you won't have to
call the cable guys."
She turned the television on, bringing forth a loud blast of
static and fuzz, then she hit the channel button and we got a
legitimate picture from CNN, followed in quick order by a country
music video, an old Sixties cartoon (and I won't embarrass myself
by admitting which one), a dimly lit dungeon scene with a
scantily-dressed woman in shackles against the wall, a soap opera
in Spanish, and the weather channel.
"Seems to be working," she said finally with a pleased tone.
"Thank you so much, I really hate to impose like this, let me do
something for you. How about a home-cooked dinner?"
I tried to demur, but we went into the kitchen and had some
juice drinks together, her suede skirt moving enticingly as she
leaned over the sink, and before I knew it I was agreeing to come
by her house at eight.
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully, other than an
increasing sense of unease on my part. I couldn't decide whether
I was reading signals from Helen, or just reacting to not having
been on a date in over three months. I could just imagine myself
saying something inappropriate and finding myself out on my ear.
After lunch I suddenly decided that I needed to get a haircut,
and after that I went through my closet to find a slacks and
shirt combination that was halfway dressy but not showy, and took
a much longer shower than usual.
At eight promptly, I rang Helen's doorbell and waited. My
wait was rewarded this time, and I was glad I'd decided to
improve my appearance. Helen had let her hair down in a glorious
cascade around her shoulders, she was wearing some sort of makeup
that emphasized her already striking eyes, and the light blue
dress she was wearing put the lie to my first impression of her
as "matronly". It wasn't blatant by any means, but it clung to
her in spots and left the imagination free to wander in others.
I'll admit my imagination was wandering during dinner. I'm
not sure what we talked about, but the food was good and the wine
set it off nicely. Too much wine, perhaps, because I offered to
help clear the dishes but found myself getting dizzy when I tried
to stand up. Helen helped me back into my seat, and took the
plate from in front of me. "Take it easy, there," she told me,
"I'll just be a few minutes downstairs taking care of some
things, then we can have dessert."
The room was definitely off kilter, so I was glad to take
that advice. I heard her open a door, followed by the sound of
footsteps clicking more and more faintly. Minutes passed, and I
slowly realized it had been some time without her coming back.
I pushed myself up onto none-too-steady feet, and went
toward the kitchen to see what had happened. I saw a pie ready
for cutting, but not Helen. I opened a door which turned out to
be a walk-in pantry, with another door at its back. I opened
that hesitantly. "Helen?" I called, but got no reply. I could
see the stairs dimly outlined from the pantry light, and took
slow careful steps downward into the gloom of the basement. My
balance was none too good, and my own footsteps seemed to echo
oddly. Finally, the stairs ended and I assured myself I was on
solid ground. I felt around for a light switch.
What my palm landed on instead was a firm, warm, hard-
nippled breast.
While I was still reacting to that, something soft was held
over my mouth and nose and everything around me faded out.
*****
My shoulders hurt.
That was the first thing I noticed. Shortly after that, my
body told me that it was feeling chill air flowing in places that
shouldn't be exposed to the air. I opened my eyes blearily. I
was standing against a cold wall, naked, my wrists above my head
and slightly behind me. I tugged on them; something was holding
them up. I tried to move my feet; something was keeping my
ankles spread out similarly.
The next thing that occurred to me was that there was light
now; a dim, murky light. Familiar... then a picture came to my
mind. The dungeon scene on Helen's television set. But if I was
the one in the shackles here, then who...?
A throat was cleared, and I looked to my left. It took me
several moments to recognize the woman standing there as Helen.
For one thing, she was nude. Gloriously nude, full breasts,
broad hips, a neatly trimmed triangle, long legs. Technically I
suppose she wasn't totally nude, but her heels only emphasized
the rest of her appearance. She stood in command of the room,
with a look that brooked no questions. Kneeling at her feet was
another woman, younger, also nude, with a dark collar around her
neck and something filling her mouth.
Helen spoke up. "About time you came to. I must say, I
didn't expect you to make it all the way downstairs. No, save
the complaints and protests; I'm going to talk and you're going
to listen." She pointed to the girl at her feet. "This is
Jennifer. Jennifer and I have something in common -- my former
husband. It turns out he was cheating on me, and had the poor
taste to have a heart attack while they were going at it. Poor
Jennifer here lost her head and called the first number she found
in his wallet -- which was mine."
The girl shook her head and a whimpering sound came out
around the thing in her mouth. Helen prodded the girl from
behind with the toe of her shoe, and the sounds ceased. Helen
continued, "I brought Jennifer with me when I moved here. Since
she took my husband from me, she owes me a lot. And I'll admit,
she has her uses. Her mouth, for example, is very talented."
Helen bent down and unfastened a strap, and pulled a penis-
shaped gag out of the girl's mouth. "Jennifer here is going to
keep you entertained for a while. I looked at your shoes when
you were working on my television set. I found it so interesting
that they matched the shoeprints I found that morning in the
ground outside the little basement window."
Jennifer was crawling toward me on her hands and knees while
Helen was speaking, and the top of her head brushed upward
against my balls, followed by her cheek, then her lips. She took
me into her mouth, and I groaned at the sensation. Helen was
still talking: "I really don't want to have to move again; it
took me some time to find a house with a usable basement, and I
don't let Jennifer out of the house for obvious reasons."
She was right about the girl's talent; I don't think I ever
had a blow job as slow, exquisite, and teasing as this one. I
didn't wonder that Helen's husband had keeled over. I tried to
thrust my hips forward, but Jennifer just moved back in rhythm
with me and continued her slow, teasing pace.
"So when you started raising a fuss about noises in the
basement, what was I to do? Other than have a long session with
Jennifer here about being quiet at night. We had to give you a
bigger cock to suck on after that, didn't we Jen?" Jennifer
shuddered and swallowed, and that almost pushed me over the edge,
but she squeezed my cock at the base and held me until the moment
passed.
I was going crazy with lust, my legs hurt from straining,
and my cock felt like it would burst. I wanted nothing more than
to slam myself into Jennifer's mouth and cum until I was empty,
but she kept me just a whisper away from that release. Helen now
sounded as if she were speaking from everywhere in the room, and
my world was shrinking to the lips around my cock and the voice
in my ears. "I decided that the only way to deal with you was to
have you join our little family. I can certainly use a handyman
around here. Behave, and you'll find out that I've got more
talents than our little Jennifer here, and any number of creative
ways to use them. Who knows, maybe you can even spend some
nights in your own bed. Otherwise..."
My breathing had taken on a frantic panting quality, and my
groin was throbbing with unreleased semen needing to come out.
"I'm going upstairs to have a nice bath and watch some
television. I think you know the channel. Jennifer has strict
instructions not to let you cum, and she's gotten very good at
following instructions. When I come back downstairs, you can
tell me if you'd like to follow my lead."
She turned and walked away, her ass flexing as she moved up
the stairs.
Jennifer continued her ministrations, speeding up and
slowing down as if she knew my body better than I did myself.
The animal in the basement was whimpering again.
I was the one whimpering.
///// Completed 01-30-2001 by Rajah Dodger
<rdodger@hotmail.com>
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\