Telephone Girl

Amy stood in a small alcove off the living room of the huge house. It was the middle of the day. No one else was home. Amy was asleep.

Not too long ago it was impossible for her to sleep standing up. But now she nodded off whenever she could. She was tightly fastened to an upright frame made of hand-carved mahogany. She stood at attention, on tiptoe, unable to move much of anything.

Amy was suddenly awakened in a peculiar way. There was an electrode up Amy's ass, fastened to a part of the wooden frame that curled between her legs. The electric current that tickled her rectum was very mild, but she woke up with a yell. Because of a topical anesthetic that had been applied to her lower throat, her yell was silent. She had a second before the current would rise to punishment level.

Quickly, Amy moved her tongue to a button on a circular metallic device that was wedged in her mouth. As soon as she pressed the button, the tickle in her ass stopped. The button also played a short recording that was broadcast on speakers throughout the house. It was a recording of Amy's voice saying, "Answer me."

Amy had been tricked into making this recording. She had slept with her boss John once, and he had recorded her while they were playing in bed after fucking. He had said that his phone had a configurable ringtone, and that he wanted to use Amy's voice for its ring. It seemed a peculiar request, but she had thought nothing of it at the time.

Amy listened. The house sounded empty. If it was, she would get three more tingles. She waited anxiously, her tongue poised by the button. The current hit her. It didn't exactly hurt, but every muscle in her body tensed up. She tongued the button instantly; as the tingle stopped, she heard her recorded voice say "I'm ringing!"

No one was home. Sweat was beading on Amy's brow. The third shock was no worse than the first two, but Amy felt as if she was running a marathon. Her voice played back: "Please answer me!"

Amy gathered her strength for the fourth ring, tongued the button, and collapsed in her wooden frame, exhausted. This time, a wireless answering machine, sitting on the table next to Amy, took her off hook and played an outgoing message. She heard her recorded self say, "John isn't available now. Please leave a message."

This recording played back, not through the house speaker system, but out of two small earphone-shaped speakers that covered Amy's ears. Attached to the frame, the speakers also served the function of holding Amy's head erect and motionless. They projected sound out into the room, not toward Amy; the volume was tolerable for her.

The call was from a telemarketer. Amy couldn't relax yet: she hung on every boring word of the message, waiting for the man to hang up. As soon as the line went quiet, her ass lit up again. She tongued the button to put herself back on hook. The piece of the frame that held the electrode also pushed a vibrator up into Amy's cunt. As the current in her ass died away, the vibrator turned on.

It was Amy's reward for a completed call. She didn't want to enjoy the vibrator, but her enervated body always betrayed her, soaking up the pleasure gratefully after its mini-ordeal. By the time the vibrator completed its five-minute cycle and shut down, Amy was in a stupor, somewhere in the zone between sleep and arousal.

---

At the end of the work day, Amy woke up when John returned home. After taking off his coat, John visited Amy straight away. "Hello, love," he said, diddling one of Amy's nipples gently.

John checked the answering machine, saw that there was a message, and pushed his index finger into Amy's right nipple, indenting her breast until he felt her rib cage. John had pierced Amy's nipples and adorned them with two small, decorative metal bars. When Amy's nipples were pressed, the metal tripped a magnetic sensor. The answering machine began to play back out of the speakers over Amy's ears.

As soon as John heard the telemarketer, he pushed Amy's left nipple impatiently. Amy's recorded voice played back: "Message erased." John kissed Amy's immobile cheek, reached around her to give her ass a little squeeze, then went to the kitchen to put dinner in the microwave.

---

As John was reading after dinner, he heard Amy on the house speakers: "Answer me."

By the time he finished his paragraph and got to the alcove, Amy was glistening with sweat. John put a hand on Amy's navel and pressed it into her stomach. Amy had pierced her own navel; John didn't even have to replace her navel jewelry. Amy went off hook. John stepped closer to Amy: the circular metallic device in her mouth had a receiver microphone on the side facing out.

"Hello?" he said, looking into Amy's half-closed eyes.

"Hello," said a honeyed female voice, out of Amy's ear speakers. It was Diana, John's sort-of girlfriend. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking about you," said John, smiling.

He had already stopped looking at Amy as he imagined Diana. But his hand cupped one of Amy's breasts, and his thumb and forefinger pulled her nipple. It was rare when John's hands didn't explore Amy when he took a call on her.

"You are such a liar," said Diana. "You're probably watching basketball. Where were you this afternoon? I stopped by the office."

"Did you? I was in a meeting at the Wilshire office all day. I thought I told you."

"You did not. Anyway, I was glad to see that you got rid of that supermodel receptionist."

"I didn't get rid of her - she got rid of me," said John. "But I'll be happy to meet her outrageous salary demands if I can continue to make you jealous over her."

Amy was the receptionist under discussion. John looked at Amy and smiled. The bit about the salary demands was a total lie. In spite of herself, Amy was seriously turned on by John's persistent teasing of her breasts. She didn't have the willpower to resist him when she was like this, unable to move and weak as a kitten from her workout with the ass electrode.

"Are you coming over?" said John.

"I don't know," said Diana.

"Come over. I have something special I want to do to you."

"And what is that?"

John pressed up against Amy, his lips right up against the disc in her mouth. His hands glided down Amy's hips and settled on her ass, squeezing her cheeks in a rhythmic motion.

"It's a secret," said John.

"Give me a clue."

"The clue is that you won't be able to stop me."

"The handcuffs?" giggled Diana.

John ground his hips slowly against Amy, digging his fingers into her ass. Amy could feel John's swelling cock through his pants. Despite her arousal, she had to monitor the conversation carefully, waiting for the line to go dead.

"Come over," John said quietly, pushing his cock into Amy's pubic bone. For all the attention he was giving Amy, he wasn't looking at her or even thinking about her.

"Give me an hour," whispered Diana.

"See you in an hour," said John.

Diana hung up, and Amy went stiff as her ass started tingling. She put herself on hook with her tongue, and the vibrator in her cunt came to life. John looked at Amy again now that Diana was gone. He was still pressed up against her, crushing her breasts against his chest, his mouth against the disc in her mouth. She could feel him breathing hard on her face.

There was no way John could get inside Amy, but he took his pants down and pushed his erection against her crotch, finding the moistened area around her clit and lubricating himself with it. Under the spell of the vibrator, Amy stood in a daze while John dry-humped her, splashing his cum all over her stomach.

Pulling up his pants, John kissed Amy on the cheek, lingering a while with his face against hers. Then he walked away.

Amy was left alone on her stand, still being vibrated, cum drying on her belly and legs. John wasn't much on cleaning up after himself; Amy was already wearing several coats of dried semen. The vibrator clicked off, with Amy sinking into semi-consciousness.

By the time Diana arrived, Amy would be rotated, along with her mahogany stand, into the wall of the alcove. If the phone rang that evening, Diana would hear Amy's recorded voice announcements, unaware that Amy was frantically activating them with her tongue. As always, she would plead with John to replace the recordings of his receptionist's voice. John would take his calls on the far less exciting phone in his bedroom until Diana was gone and Amy could be displayed again.

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13.12.17