The rest of the day went almost normal compared to what took place in Xiang’s bedroom and what Xiang got Rylie to do in the room with the stuffed animals.
They watched a show in the room with the television. They cooked in the kitchen. Well, Rylie cooked under Xiang’s supervision. Xiang explained that cooking was too lowly for her to engage in but was certainly suited for Rylie.
Rylie wasn’t all that as a cook but she didn’t mind cooking either. She did mind Xiang’s arrogance. There was no cure for it, though, at least none that Rylie had.
Xiang made another comment that pissed off Rylie. Xiang said it was convenient that “her American slut” had other useful skills besides sex.
Rylie did not belong to Xiang! Someone should tell Xiang that.
Not Rylie. She did not want another spanking.
Especially not a spanking that led her right into an orgasm. How embarrassing! God, she felt like such a sicko.
Though Xiang did not do anything sexual or try to get Rylie to do anything sexual for the rest of the afternoon and all through the evening, it was not a relaxed time for Rylie. It was a time of great concern.
That comment about Rylie being “her American slut” and that Rylie had other skills besides sex hung over Rylie as the hours passed. That comment sounded like an expectation. Or an assumption. Maybe an assumption leading to an expectation.
If Xiang thought Rylie was hers and was a slut, then why did Xiang want a slut? A female slut. (Men could be sluts do, you betcha!) Why did Xiang look so happy about Rylie’s presence all the time? Because Rylei was nude?
What kind of females appreciated female nudity? Artists and lesbians! Xiang did not look artistic.
Who would keep or own an “American slut” if they had no use for their alleged sexual skillset?
Best case, Xiang might think she could tell Rylie to have sex with a male friend of hers. Or maybe more than one! Like an unpaid prostitute.
Worst case? That was also the most likely case. Xiang probably thought she’d get to have sex with Rylie.
Wrong! Super wrong! Totally wrong!
But stressful. All the rest of the day, Rylie felt like Xiang might try something with her. Maybe pounce on her.
It was almost suspicious that Xiang did not try anything. No physical contact at all, casual or otherwise.
Rylie had orgasmed twice that day. Normally, that should be a happy thing. Actually, there was no normally about it. It wasn’t normal for her to have more than one orgasm in a single day. She could count the times she orgasmed more than once in a day on one hand and those times were always because of her own hand.
She was not happy about those orgasms earlier in the day. Okay, she was physically happy. Her body felt lax like she’d spent the day at a spa getting pampered and her heart thumped like she’d downed several beers. But she was not emotionally happy about those “happy face” moments.
What made her particularly suspicious about Xiang not trying anything with her was that Xiang had not had an orgasm. Not that she wanted Xiang to have orgasms and she did not want to know about them if Xiang did have orgasms. But people wanted orgasms and they particularly wanted them when the person they were with got them. Every guy Rylie had ever been with was all about the orgasm. They always got one and she sometimes got one. The sex wasn’t over until they got their orgasm.
Xiang seemed highly selfish. She did not care about Rylie’s feelings. Xiang did what she wanted; not what other people wanted.
In the final equation, putting aside all the domination and shame, Xiang caused Rylie to orgasm twice and yet she had not orgasmed once. Which seemed unselfish from the view high up on the mountain, the view with none of the humiliating details such as the spanks.
Rylie damn well knew Xiang was selfish. She would want, did want, an orgasm for herself. She must.
Normally — though Rylie had never been in a situation like this one, so there was no true “normally” — Rylie would simply expect or hope that Xiang would take care of a need for an orgasm herself, by herself, at night, in bed. That’s how good girls did it!
But Xiang was not a good girl. She was a wicked little bitch!
And Xiang thought they’d sleep together in the same bed.
Best case? Xiang would rub one out next to Rylie. If Rylie did share a bed with her that night.
But Rylie was pretty sure Xiang would try something with her, try to get her to help out with giving her an orgasm.
What would she try? Rylie wasn’t sure. Maybe she’d try to hump Rylie’s leg like Rylie was a stuffed animal. Rylie wasn’t sure but she suspected that was a best-case within the worst-case. Xiang might expect something quite lesbian. Very lesbian!
Rylie was so not prepared to do any such thing.
She also wasn’t all that prepared to stand up to Xiang and insist she would not lie down with her.
Those spanks. Those spankings. Multiple spankings.
Xiang already had the upper hand in their relationship (such as it was) even before the spankings, even before she harshly laid her hand over and over on Rylie’s ass. Xiang was rich. Rylie had a job to do as paid companion. Her job was to please Xiang (Up to a point!). There was a money bonus at stake at the end of the gig. This estate was Xiang’s home. All of that was upper hand leverage in Xiang’s favor.
But those spankings. They were something else. They were much more impactful – ha-ha, impactful – than all the leverage combines. The spankings had done something to their relationship. They made the inequality between them a fucking gulf. They did something to Rylie also. To her mind and spirit.
The rest of the day, as they watched shows and Rylie cooked and they ate together and then watched more shows, Rylie felt so incredibly meek. She felt like someone put her on mute. Her tone was not herself when she spoke and her volume was down. It wasn’t intentional. She wasn’t being purposefully cautious when she spoke.
It was like a twisted two-person version of that Teddy Roosevelt quote “speak softly and carry a big stick.” Rylie did the soft speaking and Xiang had the big stick of her spanking hand.
Rylie’s nudity was an ongoing thing, a sort of unspoken issue. She knew you could get used to anything and people had to and so she had to. To some extent, she did get used to it in that she didn’t think about it all the time. It just wasn’t possible. But she’d realize again and again, “Oh, I’ve got no clothes on.”
Each time she felt a little shock, almost literally electric. It was shocking figuratively and it was almost shocking physically.
It was shocking. She was no nudist. She was not a prude but not a nudist either. She had nothing to be ashamed of in the looks department but she felt she had something to be ashamed of in the being looked at department. She was running around nude in the presence of an almost certain lesbian!
Her nudity served as continual proof, a reminder, of how much Xiang controlled the overall situation and controlled Rylie. In less than half a day alone with her! Some people said that clothing makes the person and ridiculous butler bullshit like that. By no means did Rylie agree with that. But clothing did show something about your attitude and personality. So must lack of clothing.
Her attitude? Defeated. She wasn’t fighting for her right to wear clothing.
Her personality? Apparently weaker than she thought and… she hated to even think it… but… maybe… she was a submissive?
Not a lesbian submissive! No! Or sexually submissive. Only… unable or unwilling to fight for herself as fully as required to resist complying with Xiang’s demands. Maybe a social submissive? She was too nice?
It was shocking in a different way also. A much more worrisome way in her opinion. In a way she would never tell anyone.
Each little startled shock of, “Oh, I’ve got no clothes on,” produced an effect that was sexual. It made her nipples harden just a little, and it made her moisture flow down below.
It was just so fucking naughty to be naked!
But was it more than that? Rylie did not think she’d react that way on a nude beach or even if she hung out with a guy for a day of on and off sex, maybe the two of them hanging out in his or her apartment.
She was turned on not only because she was nude. And not only because she had an admiring if bitchy audience of one. Every time she realized she was nude, still nude, it also came home to her why she was nude.
She had submitted to it. Xiang forced her into continual nudity in Xiang’s personal area of the estate. Xiang did it to her and she let Xiang get away with it. Xiang defeated her on the clothing issue. It was a continuous ongoing all-the-time defeat.
It should outrage her and it did. She should be disappointed in herself for not having enough will or for not being quick thinking enough to prevent it or motivated enough to stop it now. And she was disappointed in herself as was right and proper.
But it also turned her on.
Each time she realized her undressed state, she felt a pulse of arousal, like a chemical squirted into her bloodstream. It died down quickly, but each time her arousal seemed a smidgen higher than the time before.
All through the day, her arousal built. It was a lite version of the orgasm denial Xiang put her through. She had orgasmed eventually after Xiang made her so needy for an orgasm. Thank you, stuffed animal dolphin. She did not have an overwhelming need to orgasm like after the previous edging near orgasm. But she did feel a need and it did grow and grow.
Was it because usually when she took off clothes, outside of showering and such, it was for sex? Maybe the lack of clothing contact on her skin surface sent an unwitting signal for her body to get ready for sex.
Holy shit! Was that why Xiang made her go naked? To have this effect on her?
That fucking bitch!
But there was nothing she could do about it. She could, but she couldn’t. She could at least wrap a towel around herself or one of the throw blankets or go borrow some of Xiang’s stuff out of her closet. But she couldn’t. It was like it was possible and also impossible. She just could not get herself to take action on the nudity front. The nudity front. Nude in front of Xiang.
She was strangely sedate about her circumstance. Not numb. Not with the arousal she felt and with the delayed effects from the orgasms she’d had.
She felt… docile, she guessed.
Holy shit! That sounded like she was tamed or something! No, she was not tamed. No one could tame her! Ever! Except maybe a rich handsome man who did everything she told him to do.
She was just… she just didn’t care that much… or feel any motivation… or feel any real need to change things. The quiet sneaky arousal built up and… it did not feel bad in and of itself.
The nudity wasn’t so bad. The darts of surprise arousal she kept incurring when she thought of how nude she was, how she must look, and of Xiang sometimes staring at her, did not feel bad. Just the opposite.
It wasn’t only the nudity that made her self-conscious or even the slutty things she’d done and the way she’d reacted to them (orgasmically!) in the room with the stuffed animals.
She had that damn X tattoo on her ass. And she was with a girl whose name started with X and Rylie now knew, or suspected strongly enough to call it knowledge, that the X was on her ass for Xiang, to please Xiang. And maybe to mark Rylie as Xiang’s? Like how they brand cattle to show ownership?
Also, she had no pubic hair! That made her feel twice as naked as ever before. And super slutty.
Maybe worst of all, it was open for debate, she had the other tattoo, the one above her shaven pubic mound. Gee, why would it make her feel slutty? Maybe because it said SLUT in bright red letters.
Clothing normally was a line of demarcation between sex time and not a time for sex. Sure, some petting and making out and whatnot when clothed but the ultimate sexual acts, the ones that normally led to orgasm, generally required nudity. Then, after, you put your clothes back on.
But not this time. She’d had sex (such as it was) while nude and she was still nude hour after hour afterward. It was like the sex session had never formally ended. Like it might start up again at any moment.
That made Rylie wary but in an oddly desultory way. At times, she felt Xiang’s eyes on her but Rylie waited a while before looking up and looking around. It was like she did not want to interrupt Xiang feasting her eyes on her. Well, it was rude to intrude when people were eating, right?
But seriously. In the kitchen, Xiang had stared at Rylie’s breasts as Rylie worked mixing cake mix in a big bowl. She knew her breasts swayed a little, shook like a belly dancer’s at times. She could have turned away from Xiang’s gaze but she just didn’t.
She was no belly dancer. She wore less than one!
Xiang was the reason Rylie wore no clothes. But Rylie was at fault for doing so little to protect her modesty or to change Xiang’s ongoing narrative that Rylie was a slut.
Another example was when she fetched something for Xiang and returned to Xiang sitting on the couch. Xiang moved to the middle of the couch each time she sent Rylie to fetch and when Rylie returned Rylie would hesitate, unsure where to sit. Xiang would hold up a finger and tell her to wait patiently until she got comfortable. Xiang would then slowly shift and slide, ever so slowly, back to her spot on one end. All the while she stared at Rylie’s bare and unprotected by pubic hair crotch. Or maybe at her SLUT tattoo.
Rylie usually had a free hand even once she brought back an item for Xiang and Rylie could have covered her sex with her free hand. Or she could have turned sideways. Or at least backed up a few feet and not stand so close to Xiang as Xiang stared at her crotch.
But Rylie didn’t do any of those things. Every time she waited for Xiang to move and to stop looking at her intimate area with a mix of outward patience and inward impatience, but maybe not the kind of impatience it should be.
Because all those looks and stares forced awareness on Rylie of her nudity, of why she was nude, of the overall situation, her new tattoos, and of earlier events in the bedroom and in the stuffed animal room. All of which added extra darts of arousal.
It felt like her dartboard was getting pretty damn full! How many darts of arousal could she take before Xiang achieved the winning score on her?
She thought she’d get back to her normal fairly discrete and modest and self-assured self. At some point. Just not yet. It was delayed. Not a rain delay. A wetness delay.
Yeah, it felt like she was constantly at least a little wet and some of the wetness was fresh. Every time she thought she might be almost at a normal level of dampness in her vaginal biome, she saw Xiang staring at her or she ogled herself in her mind as she pictured how she looked, nude, hairless below the head, and with an X marking a great spot to spank on her ass. Then she got wet all over again.
Wetness Xiang often seemed to notice with a wet gleam in her dark eyes!
Xiang was certainly not above inflicting a little humiliation. One time she asked, “Is it damp in here or is that just you?”
It took Rylie a few moments to understand what Xiang was accurately insinuating by that. And it took her much longer to come up with a good response. Her mind didn’t seem to be in a high-functioning mode. She finally muttered, “I don’t know.”
Quite the come back!
Her reactions were on delay also. Xiang would ask her… tell her… okay, alright, order her… to go get something for them. For Xiang. Like a snack from the kitchen supply area while they were watching a show.
Rylie would not react for one or two seconds. She’d like to claim she was thinking about whether or not to carry out the order. Whether to obey. Or, even better, that she was delaying on purpose as an act of defiance. But that wasn’t why. It took a moment or two for her brain to kick in and, when it did, it only did so in a functional way. Enough to obey, not enough to resist obeying.
Then she went and did it, whatever it was, fetched one thing after another. Like getting a pillow for Xiang to rest on as she watched the show. Then another pillow. Then a throw blanket.
It got to a point where Rylie knew Xiang had to be fucking with her, making her make extra trips to fetch. But Rylie did not refuse or stop fetching. She was on a short delay, just fractions of seconds, in taking action to obey but she seemed to be a on a long delay as per feeling proper outrage to refuse to obey.
She did think about Xiang messing with her and how she kept obeying. Her mind still worked but her emotions lagged far behind. She figured out Xiang was fucking with her. Maybe for amusement. Maybe testing her control over Rylie.
She obeyed each little menial, stupid, somewhat humiliating task. Did that mean she passed Xiang’s test or failed it? Rylie definitely felt like she failed herself! Knowing Xiang as well as she did so far, she bet that meant she passed Xiang’s test.
Why did she obey each little dumb task? It wasn’t because she thought Xiang was going to spank her and yet it was because Xiang had spanked her. Those spanking has established the pecking order, established it even more firmly than the firm spanks.
Rylie obeyed each little thing, each one a bird pecking at her self-esteem, crumbling it just a little more, not because she felt she had to but, deeper down, because she felt like she should. Like it was somehow natural to behave in such a submissive way that was so unnatural to who she was.
Rylie thought her emotions were on mute as a form of self-protection. What Xiang did to her during the day and got her to do and the way Rylie had reacted – with orgasms of all things! – had wreaked havoc on Rylie. She was normally pretty steady and calm. Not cold. Not that. But steady. More laid back and more planned out than, as a for instance, her buddy Aspen.
She thought maybe she’d unconsciously muted her emotions in order to limit the emotional damage.
But Xiang broke her out of her emotional stupor.
Getting pretty late at night and therefore closer to bedtime and a possible showdown over sleeping arrangements, they were watching a show, a goofy adult cartoon in the Chinese language, when Rylie noticed Xiang texting on her smartphone.
Rylie did not make anything of that at first.
The texting went on for a few minutes and then there was a span of several minutes when Xiang was not texting but kept checking her phone.
Then she grinned, looked at Rylie, and noticed Rylie noticing her.
Xiang said proudly, “Fang likes it very much.”
“Likes what?” Rylie had a plummeting feeling in her stomach.
“The video of you humping Ouyi. She likes how you stuck tongue in Ouyi’s oral cavity. Very much. She says your ability to reach tongue into small spaces will prove most useful.”
“What the fuck!?!” Rylie felt absolute rage overtake her. It was so pure and so strong and so right that it almost felt like a blessed relief even while she was horrified that Xiang had outed her as a humper of stuffed animals.
“What? I give you positive feedback on you looking like you feed on Ouyi’s oral cavity. You should thank me.”
Rylie stood up from the couch and angrily slashed her fist downward in the air, even then aware of how her breasts jiggled and her semi-hard nipples swayed back and forth like they were looking for targets.
“You said you wouldn’t send out that video! You lied!”
Xiang frowned, “The American slut is even more stupid than previously presumed. I said no such thing. I said I would not share the video of you making happy face on top of dolphin. I said I would have no need. Indeed, I have not shared that video. I truly had no such need as the one of you humping Ouyi, rubbing tits on him, and tongue poking his oral cavity is ever so much more compelling than the dolphin humping video. That is still a good video and I will keep it always in my private collection of American sluts doing things with their privates.”
“Even more stupid.” God. She was stupid! It was probably stupid to place any trust at all in Xiang but, even assuming such trust was a good move, she’d only gotten Xiang to promise not to send the first video. The one from more distant cameras and with less detail. Hell, for all Rylie knew maybe she wasn’t even recognizable on those views!
People would have a hard time reconciling that Rylie would hump a stuffed dolphin to orgasm. Maybe that would prevent confident recognition. But with the close-up detail in the Ouyi the orangutan video, it would be impossible not to recognize her.
In the end, in sum, she’d gotten Xiang to not send out the less clear, less recognizable, less compromising video of Rylie humping a stuffed dolphin by cooperatively letting Xiang produce a different video, a clearer closer-up one. One that was much more compromising! She had not tit-rubbed or French kissed the dolphin.
It was even worse than that. The video of her “dolphin riding” would look like an intrusion into Rylie’s privacy. The one with her humping Ouyi had to look like she was aware of the video taking but still humped stuffed animal.
She never would have had sex – if you could call it that – with Ouyi at all except to get Xiang to not send out the other video.
She had prostituted herself! With a stuffed animal! All to make her situation so much worse!
God. She was so stupid!
Xiang smirked, “I see from your dumb face and hear from you being struck dumb that you understand how dumb you are and that Xiang is much cleverer than you. We made a bargain and I kept the bargain. All fair, there is no call for you to bitch about it. If you do not like the results, then complain to self.”
Rylie hated Xiang, but knew she was right. Technically. But the bitch knew why Rylie did what she did, why Rylie gave in to humping Ouyi. Xiang knew what Rylie thought she was getting by humping Ouyi and knew why Rylie let Xiang videotape up close the second stuffed animal humping. What Xiang did was… it was… well, it was dishonorable!
Rylie knew Xiang would not care about honor if Rylie pointed it out. There was nothing for Rylie to do. If she kept bemoaning it, Xiang would simply point out again and again how dumb Rylie was.
All Rylie could do, constructively, was try to assess the damage.
“You sent it to Fang. Is Fang going to show it to Aspen?”
Xiang told her, “Good news, American slut. I specifically forbade Fang to show it to Flame Hair Freckle Face. I have reason for that. Why protest my sending it to Fang? Fang enjoyed seeing it. I enjoyed showing it. My pleasure should be your priority.”
Rylie was greatly relieved Aspen had not seen it but she wasn’t happy about Fang seeing it.
“You can’t show me doing… stuff like that. You can’t just give that to other people without my permission!”
“I can because I already have. Why would I seek your permission? To hear you say no? It would not matter if you did say no. So why bother to ask? I did not bother. Besides, why should you mind? Fang and I are twins. Just as we look similar, we should also get to look at the same things. What my eyes delight in seeing, so too do Fang’s eyes.”
Twisted logic! Not fair!
Rylie harrumphed and crossed her arms over her bare chest. She knew it was too late. So, what was she fighting for? To try to discourage Xiang from sending the next compromising sex video she took of Rylie? There wouldn’t be another one!
Xiang saw that Rylie’s protestations had come to a grumpy end.
Xiang smiled brightly, “Good news, American slut. Time for us to go to bed together.”
