New Apartment
	©Cristl

Far as I remember, what with all that’s happened, the whole thing began with a saleswoman. My “wife” told me all about it when I got home from my part-time programing job at a computer game company. The company makes “adventure” games for the adolescent crowd. I used to make a pretty good income from them.

“Matt, there was a real nice salesgal here today. She was talking about a new bunch of apartments that’s going on sale in Brewerton, starting next week.”

“Shoot, what’s that got to do with us, May?”

“We-ell, Matt, she says that if we get in on the first sign-ups, it’ll be about half the lease that we have here. Glenda also said we could have pets there, not like here, where we can’t even have fish.”

“Glenda, huh? You and she had coffee and chatted, didn’t you? I know you and your chats, babes.”

May hates me calling her that, but she is a babe, for sure. She’s about five five, stacked like a small outhouse, with reddish-blonde hair which she wears short, almost like a long pageboy. She has a temper like a firecracker, luckily for me she never stays angry long or goes nuclear.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. She was talking to me about the apartments and I just decided to ask her to have coffee and a chat. That was kinda strange, now I think about it, but she’s a real nice person and we got on fine. I asked her back to talk with you, tomorrow night.”

“And when do these apartments open up? They start next week, do they?”

“Matt, don’t be such a dunderhead. I said, ‘Glenda told me the apartments were going on the market next week.’ You weren’t listening, were you?”

Well, that got us into another argument, which of course I lost, I guess, for she made me eat a TV dinner in the livingroom.

I was off the next day, but I went into work anyway, just to get away from May and her temper. She’s cute as all get out, but that temper . . .

Karl Hansen, my employer’s office manager wasn’t too happy to see me coming in two days in a row, maybe because he didn’t like paying me the $245 a day that his boss had contracted to do. I talked him around — he’d met May in one of her moods — but he made me take three days off, Thursday, Friday and the following Monday, to compensate.

So-o when I got home that night, I had two days off before the week-end. May was talking to me again and in fact she wanted me pretty badly by this time. That was one of her endearing traits.

“Well, Matt, c’mon baby. Let’s get it on!”

“May, sweets, isn’t that salesgal coming ‘round tonight? Don’t want to have her catch us in bed, do we?”

“Omigawd! I forgot all about her. Here., quick, help me straighten the place, hurry. She said she’d be here at seven, sharp, and it’s six-fifty now!”	

May was really wound up, but I forgave her as soon as the doorbell rang. I went to look through the Judas-hole and saw a distorted view of another gorgeous woman.

“Hey, May! Is your Glenda a brunette, about five seven or so?”

“Yeah, my God . . . is she here already?”

“It’s seven,” I said as I opened the door.
“Yes, so it is. I always try to be on time, and I ask that of my  . . . friends, too,” said the gorgeous woman who walked in, grasping my hand as she did so.

“You must be . . . of course you are . . . Matt. How nice to see you here. It makes it so much easier if I talk with man and woman at the same time, usually after I’ve seen the woman . . . May, in this case . . . alone.”

I shook her hand, noticing the robustness of her grip and the way she shook  — not like a man but like a successful person who owned the company. Yet her hand was soft, at the time making me think I wouldn’t mind her stroking my — instead of May?

May came in from the kitchen, walking oddly  as though she was in high heels. I started to kid her but then this Glenda remarked,

“You don’t have to pose, May,” and May walked normally again. I wondered what the Hell was going on. I must have started to say something, but May interrupted.

“Coffee, tea . . . what, Glenda?”

“Nothing, thank you. Why don’t we get down to talking about our reason for being together tonight?

“Matt, let’s you sit there . . .” indicating the sofa, which I hated to sit on, its too short cushions not supporting my thighs very well, “ . . . and May, you stand right there.”

To my surprise, May stood just where Glenda indicated and sorta slumped. I was already sitting quietly on the sofa, although I can’t remember how I got there. Glenda spoke to May again.

“Go to sleep, May.” May straightened her slump and stood like a statue, her eyes wide open. I was getting very angry, but I seemed to be unable to speak.

“Matt, you are very wide awake. Open your eyes wide, those lids are trying to close over them. You must stay awake, Matt, it’s very important. Listen to me, I can keep you awake. 

“Now, Matt . . .” Glenda’s voice returned to my hearing through a fog. I didn’t know where I was, what had happened, who I was. 

“Matt,” the voice said. I heard a voice, dull, slow, say,

“Yes.”

“Matt, stand up.”

I felt my body unfold and my head rise to an upright position, but I had no feeling about it and I certainly did not initiate the action. But there was I, looking slightly down at Glenda . . . I knew her name, all right, I knew it well.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Matthew Semms,” I answered, speaking thickly. My mind was not working at all, it seemed, I hadn’t answered her, something in me had.

“Matthew Semms, you are quite happy leasing the new apartment. You and May Willis will move into the new apartment next week. You will move Monday, so you take advantage of all the nice things that will occur in your new apartment.”

“Yes,” was all I seemed to want to answer. I stood still, looking down at Glenda — Glenda? Hadn’t she been the good witch? Yes, she was the good witch, so everything was okay.

“Matt, did you like Glenda?” asked May.

I came out of a fog and answered slowly, “She’s the good one, isn’t she?”
“What?”

“I mean, that name . . . ‘Glenda’ . . . that was the good witch . . . in the Wizard of Oz.”

“I never thought about her name being the same, but . . . yeah, you’re right, she is the good one.
	
“So, Matt, you’ve made arrangements with the moving company?”

“I . . . ,” I felt in my shirt pocket without knowing why and came up with a yellow piece of paper, folded about four times the way I do when I put something in my pocket instead of my wallet.

“Yeah, here’s their receipt . . . or, wait a minute, this is the estimate. Oh, I guess we can pay it, I’ve money coming from work and some in the bank, and Friday’s payday, too.”

“Friday? Yesterday was Friday, Matt. Don’t you have the check?” 

“Damn’fi’know! No, by gum, here it is. H-m-m, I wonder why they paid me for four days?”

“Why? You worked more than four days since the last check, didn’t you?”

“Damn! I did, I worked last week for four, this week for three . . . Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday . . . that’s last week’s check . . . what’s the matter with us. Four days, four days’ pay, right? Enough to move with. Hell, with no take-out ‘cept what we pay, that’s eleven hundred, less insurance, less tax, should leave us about $936, okay?”

“Yep. So, you don’t mind moving, then?”

“No, May, I don’t mind at all, I think it’s going to be fun.”

“Fun? Maybe . . . I guess. Glenda says she will have an apartment near ours, too.”

“Well, that’s . . . nice, I s’pose. So, you wanta start packing? Save us some money with the movers if we pack and move what we two can before they get here.”

“It’s a good idea, or would be, if we could move stuff before the apartment’s  really open, huh?”

“D’yo s’pose we could. Do we get permission from . . . who? Glenda? The manager?”

“Who’s the manager? I’ll call Glenda on her cell and ask.”

I wondered a little bit just then how May had Glenda’s cell phone number, but then the thought left me and I started looking around for what we could pack.

If someone let us move into our new apartment before the main rush, it’d be really nice. Not too hard to move in, then. Maybe the movers would come a day early, maybe, like day after tomorrow.

Whoa!
	
“Hey, May, Belle of the South . . . . What floor’s the apartment on?”

“Second, but it backs on a hill so we’re on the first at the back. There’s glass doors there, but there’s also a security fence around the property, so Glenda says we have to call the manager . . . she’s called him already, so that’s okay, to ask him to let us and the movers inside the security fence and into the apartment day after tomorrow. You can get the movers that quick, can’t you?”

“Jeez, I think. Let me call them, Then we’d better get packing unless we want to pay the movers two arms and your leg.”

“My leg? It oughta be worth more’n three arms!”

“Okay, just your leg if we don’t get packin’ soon.”

Somehow, by night he following day we had everything packed that we didn’t need the movers to pack. I rented a small van, and May and  I worked our butts off loading and unloading all the “little” stuff. Huh, little! A knocked-down  double bed, a single bed, a chest, all the kitchen stuff, a favorite chair . . . hell, we did half the moving ourselves. But it turned out to be worth it.

With the rented van, the movers’ fees and the very little they actually had to move, we got away with well under that nine hundred bucks I was afraid we’d be out.

By the time we were more or less settled in the new place, it was getting dark. The phone man had been and gone . . . the whole building was pre-wired so all he had to do was open our line . . . we kept our number, too! And then we sat for a moment, just plain too pooped to start any supper.

The phone rang. I was closer, so I picked it up and heard,

“Hi, Matthew. You and May come to dinner with me. Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes. Informal.”

Well, that was, of course, Glenda. Her voice was quite pleasant but . . . okay, my first feeling of slight resentment at her manner was was replaced at once by the feeling that she was being very accommodating.

I said, jokingly, “The mistress commands, hon’, we’re to meet Glenda in ten minutes in the lobby. Informal, have dinner with her.”

May moved so fast . . . I’d never seen her do this before . . . hat she was almost a blur in my suddenly distorted vision. As my eyes cleared, I saw that she was holding my jacket, her own already on her shoulders.

“Well?” she queried quizzically.

“Yup, let’s go.”

Glenda was waiting for us, dressed — the first time I’d really noticed what any woman except May was wearing — in a powder blue slack suit, very fetching.

As though she had read my thoughts, she murmured in my ear as May preceded us along the hallway, “This is my fetching outfit, Matt. You like it a lot.”

I noticed for the last time with any spark of resentment that Glenda made statements that should have ended in a flirtatious question, but never did.

May turned to look to Glenda for directions at the end of the hall. 

“You go right, May. Matt and I go left. Take the stairs to the fourth floor and wait for us in that little lobby there. Matt, come with me.”

Rather than resent her tone of command,  I was flattered. I was alone with . . . a very pretty woman, a sexy woman, breathing in her perfume, which I did not recognize.

‘You like this particular scent, Matt. I will let you smell it quite often . . . when you and I have come to our understanding. It will be your incentive for good things.”

I was unable to utter more than a grunt in acknowledgment of her statement. I did not care to, for some reason. We walked along the corridor in a direction  opposite to that along which Glenda had directed . . . Emma? Mary? Meg? . . . the other woman. What was her name? 

Glenda seemed to read my mind.  

“You need not worry about names, Matt. You are quite happy in your new apartment. It is good that I rent mostly to women in these apartments. A woman needs special attention. Every woman’s scent needs attention, Matt. Come.”

I followed at her heels, obedient without knowing or questioning why. I felt wrong for some reason, I was too tall for this Glenda, much too tall.

I did not know how we arrived wherever it was, but the other woman was waiting there for us . . . and I smelled her, too, a different scent than Glenda was wearing. I heard some words that, although I heard them, had a very vague meaning for me. My nose was itching.

“Come along, May, we’ll go see our apartment. Your attendant, May, is allowed here.”  Odd, this woman . . . had no attendant?

The other woman, then Glenda, then me, walked along a long, narrow, closed place until we cam to a door which the other woman did something to so that it opened.

“May, this is just what I wanted you to have. Matt, come.

“Now, May, we will enjoy ourselves here. This is our place. We will have an attendant for you in a little while. You feel very well, May, very warm, as though you very badly wanted to make love.”

“Yes, I want to make love,” said the other woman. I found that I was standing (without a stitch of clothes on) as was proper for my station, beside but a little behind Glenda. 

“Prepare, May. You may undress me when you are ready.

“Now, Matt, you will be comfortable sitting down over here . . .” Glenda indicated a spot by the wall and I went and hunkered down, sitting on my heels as I should, my flaccid penis drooping between my thighs.

The other woman and Glenda were undressing each other, very slowly and sensuously. The other was rubbing against Glenda as their upper bodies were bared, Glenda’s breasts solid against the slight droop of the other’s, while their nipples were stiffening from their contact.

My member slowly stiffened as the women became fully nude, but it was not the sight of their lovely bodies that was arousing me, it was their smell. A strong scent wafted to my sensitive nostrils from them . . . heat, sex, submission . . . all came to me with my enhanced sense.

“Ah, May, you like the feel of my body. Kiss my nipple, May. You like that taste. Yes, kiss me there, too.
	
“Matt, come.”

I moved to her like the obedient pet I was. Mistress placed a hand on my rigid member and stroked it for a moment.

“Matt, you like the smell of this woman. Do something about your liking.”

I knew that Mistress meant the other, so I bent and knelt at the woman’s feet. As I raised my head to confront her sparsely haired sex, I smelled again that fascinating odor and my mouth watered. My tongue slid slowly from my wet, drooling mouth and touched her lips.

With little effort I pushed past the unresisting outer barrier into a moist and fast becoming wetter vulva. My tongue seemed to be longer than I recalled, although my memory was fuzzy at best. I licked softly along the inner labia, the juices becoming more and more evident as I licked and nuzzled with my lips against her cunny.

“Good boy,” came Mistress ‘s voice and I felt the back of my head being petted. That made my ass wriggle, I could not help the automatic reflex. Of course, my member flexed from side to side as my ass moved. Mistress gave a disapproving grunt, almost like a swear word, but she did nothing to me other than push my face into the sopping cunny before me. She was murmuring something to the woman who I was licking, but then the woman gyrated her hips and my mouth came free for a moment, although I tried desperately to follow her movements. My mind was a bit distracted  by the flopping of my otherwise rigid penis.
“We’ll just have to have this for a while, he’ll lick and suck on command, May. He’s a good pet, no worry at all in this apartment building. You’ll see other pets, too, on leashes. We’ll have this one on a leash, soon as I train him.”

I heard the word “train” and my mind became almost incandescent with pleasure. My rigid penis deflated slowly as this new joy took over. I wanted to be trained, so badly that I actually whined and licked Mistress’ hand.

“Oh, how nice, this likes the idea. It’ll be good to train.”

I almost spasmed with pleasure as she said the word again.

I remember that Mistress or the other fed me, I gobbled food from the large bowl and felt very satisfied. When I needed to void, Mistress showed me a place to do it and I scratched and moved sufficient soil aside to deposit what I needed to void and then I covered it neatly so that the place did not look disturbed. I did not question where this soil was – it may have been in the place I was occupying, but I didn;t care anymore.

A day or so later Mistress called me to her, told me to stand very still. She raised my penis out of the way and placed a tool of some kind around my scrotum real close to my body. She pressed something together. I felt nothing except some compression. She had been training me so that I came, lay down, sat up, hunkered on my hams, did what she said quickly and very. very obediently. Every time I did what she said I felt very good, nothing like the first time she said “train,” but I got a little thrill out of her praise.

I was eager to lick her hand and suck on her anywhere she told me, on Mistress or on anyone else she told me. I tasted many different pleasures for sometime. One day, maybe a lot od days and nights after Mistress had put that tool round my balls, I felt a sudden absence and Mistress, coming to me later, patted my head and said something like “Good boy, you’re all ready, now,” but it did not worry me. Most of the time I sat on my haunches and just stared at the floor or the wall, not really thinking at all, until Mistress told me to do something. If she told me something complicated, I could do it, and sometimes, if she told me to “im-pro-vise” I could really pleasure the female I was told to attend.

If Mistress told me, I got an erection, and I used it as she told me. It felt good to insert it into a cunny after I had licked and sucked it, and although I never felt as I think I used to, it still felt good when the woman  (I think that’s what they were . . . some of them human, certainly females of some sort) had a convulsion and twisted and turned above me. I always layon my back, as Mistress told me I should, when the female wanted to have my penis inside her. I enjoyed the times, but I never climaxed . . . but that didn’t worry me at all. I wasn’t supposed to, was I?

I liked the times when Mistress or one of the females she told me to obey took me out on my leash. Then I could walk on all fours, not try to stand as Mistress told me I should most of the time. I got petted a lot. Sometimes I would understand just a little of the talk, like “. . .such a good . . .,” or “ . . .handsome, isn’t it?” Wherever we were, it was always comfortable, although sometimes it had water falling from the sky, but no one seemed to mind that.  I think I remembered that females wore “cloth,” whatever that had been, but where we were no one wore anything but skin , and I liked to lick at them as we passed. That got me whacked a couple times and I didn’t do it again.