Distress
By A.J. Brown
Writer is tracked down by an obsessed fan


**Note to my readers: I write Custom Stories for those who enjoy my work that
would like a personal story written for them. Please email me at
ajbrown2005@yahoo.com if you would like more information on my Custom
Stories**

"He tried his best to get Jessica off of him. The 21-year-old girl couldn't
have weighted more than 100 pounds. Yet she was so strong. While she straddled
him he pushed at her legs and they would not budge. Her legs were small like
the rest of her. But they were so strong. They wouldn't move at all."

Melissa was using her left hand to scroll down with keypad mouse on her screen
and her right hand to masturbate as she read this. Using her left hand to
scroll was a little awkward but her right hand was her masturbating hand and
that couldn't change.

"He reached up to try and grab Jessica. He weighed 220 pounds for goodness
sake and he was 3 years older than she was. Why couldn't he get her off of
him? Jessica grabbed his wrists before he could even touch her. He tried his
best to pull his hands free but the grip from her soft feminine hands was too
strong."

Melissa moaned a bit. Her mother was home but, fuck it. This story was too
good.

"Jessica then reached her right hand back. Cory saw her fist coming but he
didn't know how to fight. Her small fist struck the side of his face. Just
like a bee sting, it didn't matter how small it was, that punch hurt and he
didn't want any more. He looked up at Jessica. She could tell he was about to
cry and it looked like that made her so happy to see that. She punched him in
the face again. He was trying to hold his tears back. He didn't want to endure
the humiliation of crying because he got beat up by a girl but more than
anything he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him cry. But
her fist came in again and when he felt it shake up his entire head when it
connected with his face, the tears came pouring down his face. Jessica looked
down at him taking great pleasure that she had made him cry. He was not going
to get any sympathy from her. The fact that she could be so cruel and get away
with it made him cry more."

Melissa fingered herself more rapidly. She could feel like she was about to
cum. She could now but she wanted to keep reading, find out what Jessica was
going to do to Cory next, and really make this orgasm a good one.

"About a minute went by without Cory taking any more punches from her. He
hoped that she was done but until she got off of him he wasn't going to feel
good about it. He could still feel her strong legs and her bony butt holding
him down, giving him a feeling of helplessness. She grabbed a hold of his
wrists, pulling them in her direction, and stretching his arms out. That hurt
too but at least it wasn't as bad as the punches. She lifted up her legs and
her saw the soles of her bare feet coming towards his face. He turned his head
away as if that was going to do anything. He couldn't let her do this. But
with her butt sitting on him and her hands clenching his wrists to make sure
that he couldn't go anywhere, there was nothing he could do. He felt the
coldness and the softness of her bare feet pushing against his face and he got
a smell of them when he took in a deep breath. Now in a panic as if she had
just put a plastic bag over his head, he shook his head frantically trying to
free his face from her feet but he couldn't do it. No matter what he did, no
matter how hard he fought, her bare feet were planted right on his face and
there was nothing he could do about it."

"Ahh!" Melissa moaned loudly.

Melissa fingered herself hard and she knew it was coming. And it was going to
be good. She had beaten up plenty of guys over the years but sticking her bare
feet in a guy's face was something she had never done. It's not like she
wouldn't be able to do it if she didn't want to; no guy that she had ever
beaten up stood a chance against her. But it was just one of those things even
a crazy chick like her couldn't bring herself to do. It just seemed too over
the top.

But it was a fun thing to fantasize about and Reed Tuffin had described it
perfectly like he always did in his stories. Melissa was 30-years-old now and
her days of beating up guys was mostly behind her - it was normally something
she did in her early twenties when she's go out drinking, sometimes for the
sake of flirting, but sometimes it was just because it was a rush beating up a
guy - but if she never was going to get the chance to force her feet in a
guy's face, Reed Tuffin's stories, that normally always involved a woman
sticking her feet in a man's face after a good beating, were the next best
thing.

She could feel herself cumming as she fingered herself more. She had a perfect
picture in her head of Jessica on top of Cory, a tight hold on his wrists, and
her feet planted on the face that was crying after the beat down it had just
taken. She pictured Jessica being her and she let out a loud moan as she came.
It was so good.

"Everything alright in there?" Melissa heard her mother yell.

"Mom, shut the FUCK up!" she yelled back. Mom didn't say anything else. She
finally knew better. She'd push Melissa's buttons sometimes but for the most
part she knew her place in this house.

Melissa took her hand out of her pussy, wiped it with a tissue, and threw the
tissue on the floor. She scrolled down through the rest of Reed's story. Blah,
blah, blah. She had cum already and she always quickly lost interest in Reed's
stories after that. But his little blurb at the end of his stories always
intrigued her. There it was again.

"Hi everybody!" it read. What a dork this guy was. She supposed she shouldn't
be surprised he was a dork with the amount of time he spent posting female
domination stories online. "Thank you for reading my work. I also write Custom
Stories for my fans. Please email me at this email address if you'd like more
information. Thanks!!"

Would he actually write a Custom Story just for her? She blushed just thinking
about it. She had beaten up so many guys in the past that she had some great
ideas for stories based on those experiences. She even had the perfect name
for her character - Mistress Distress. It rhymed. It was so cool. But would
Reed Tuffin write a story just for her? Almost definitely not. He probably
wouldn't even read her email if she emailed him. She had read once that
Stephen King couldn't reply to his mail even though he wanted to just because
he received so many. Reed Tuffin wasn't Stephen King but he could make women
cum and that alone was something that would make him pretty popular. Melissa
was silly to think he'd write a Custom Story for her. But you only live once,
right? There was no harm in asking. She hated rejection and didn't know how
she'd deal with it if he didn't respond, wouldn't write a story for her, or
worst of all told her that he didn't like her idea. She wasn't sure she could
handle that. She was about to turn off her laptop and walk away but then she
thought, fuck it, she had nothing to lose by emailing him. He definitely
wouldn't write her a story if she didn't ask, that was for sure.

"hey, will you write me a custom story?" she wrote in her email to him. "let
me know, I have a few ideas for custom stories"

Her hand shook as she went to click 'send' on her Gmail. She was actually
going to email Reed Tuffin. She did it. She felt a rush as she did. He
probably wasn't going to get back to her. There was no way. Even if by some
small chance he did, it was probably going to be a couple of weeks before she
heard back. There was no sense sitting around in front of her laptop waiting
for that. She might as well get up and do something else, maybe go watch TV or
something. If her mom was on the couch watching the one TV they had she was
going to have to get up and move.

Just when she was about to turn her laptop off she saw her Inbox icon become
bold in her Gmail alerting her that she had a new email. Getting email always
excited her considering that her computer was how she did 99% of her
communication these days but the possibility that Reed Tuffin responded to her
this quickly had her feeling butterflies. Sure enough, he was the sender.

"Melissa, your clothes are all over the place, when are you going to clean
these up??" she heard her mother yell.

"Mom, SHUT UP!" she yelled back. She wanted to be able to give this email full
concentration when she opened it.

"Don't tell me to shut up in my own house!"

They had been over this numerous times but her mother still didn't get it.
Melissa was not messing around today. She stood up out of her chair and
marched to the hallway where her mother was standing with her hands on her
hips. Her mother was Tracy Ashley, a 50-year-old woman. Tracy was 20 years
older than Melissa was and both stood around 5'2. Both women looked about 10
years younger than they actually were. Tracy had a good 20 pounds on Melissa
but Melissa had proven that didn't mean much as far as who was tougher. Tracy
stood her around as Melissa stomped towards her but she did look afraid.

"Mom, I'm busy right now, shut up and go to your room," Melissa said. With
just the two of them living here together, there wasn't anyone outside the two
of them that could help settle any disagreement.

"I told you not to tell me shut up and if you're gonna live under my roof
you're gonna live by my rules. Now whatever you're doing can wait until your
clothes are picked up!"

"Mom, get in your room or I'm going to kick your ass."

"You gotta stop threatening me in my own house. One of these days I'll call
the cops and have you thrown out ... "

"Mom, SHUT UP!" Melissa interrupted.

She grabbed a hold of her mother's left bicep with her right hand and squeezed
hard, feeling how puny her mother's arm was underneath her flab. That extra 20
pounds that Tracy had on Melissa was just fat. She thought her mother could be
attractive for a 50 year old woman if she lost that weight but a petite body
with a bunch of flab on it looked no good.

"Ah, dammit, let go of me," Tracy said. She tried to sound authoritative at
first but as Melissa squeezed harder she could see that her mother was
weakening. "Let go Lissa, will ya?"

Melissa squeezed harder with her right hand and then raised her left fist. Now
her mother definitely looked afraid. Melissa had already blackened one of
Tracy's eyes in the past and warned her that next time she was going to have
to do this she was going to blacken both of them so badly that she wasn't
going to be able to see until they healed. She had actually felt a little
guilty after that incident and had actually been being a bit nicer to her
mother as of late. But her mother was messing with her at the wrong time and
she was ready to do what she had to do.

"I'll let go of you if you turn around and go to your room, mom. But you get
one chance. If you let go and don't do what I say then I'm going to have to
punish you."

She held onto her mother's arm a bit longer just to make sure she wasn't going
to try anything funny but she knew her well enough to know the message had
gotten across. She let go of her mother's arm and watched her consider if she
was going to try anything else. Melissa turned around and walked away.

"You know one of these days I AM gonna call the cops on you and let's see how
you're able to take care of yourself then!" Tracy said. Melissa said nothing
as she walked back to her computer. She had more important things to deal
with.

She brought her cursor up to click on Reed's email. Was he going to write her
a story? He was probably going to turn her down. Or maybe tease her and tell
her that he'd write her a story but that he wasn't going to be able to do it
for a really long time. That was the kind of asshole thing someone would do to
her that wouldn't surprise her at all. She read it.

"Hi Melissa!" he wrote. This guy was such a dork. It was just an email, why
was he acting all excited like that? "I'd love to write a Custom Story for
you." She read on but it looked like a bunch of 'blah, blah, blah' because her
eyes saw what it said towards the end of the email and she just wanted to get
to that part. If she was reading that correctly she was going to lose her
mind.

"My rate is 15 US dollars per page," it read. There was more of his 'blah,
blah, blah' after that but she was so heated now that she didn't need to read
anymore. She clicked 'reply.'

"LMAO!!!" she wrote back. "r u high? Im not payin u to write a fucking story.
And 15 dollars a page, are you smoking crack?????????????? i could buy a full
stephen king book for 15 bucks and those are like a thousand pages. And ur not
stephen king!!! LMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

She proudly clicked 'send' and crossed her arms at her chest looking at the
screen like she was expecting a reply any moment. He probably would be too
much of a pansy ass to reply now that she called him out but he was probably
also had nothing better to do than sit in front of his computer all night so
maybe he would. As she sat there staring at the screen hoping to see her inbox
icon get bold again she thought about how badly she wanted to punch him in the
face. She could tell this guy was a little pussy just based on the way he
wrote that wussy email and of course he had to be since he spent so much time
on the computer writing stories about guys getting their asses kicked by
chicks. Her inbox icon got bold again.

"Melissa," he wrote, all formal. Such a dork. "Stephen King's books are made
available to millions of people. There's a big difference between having a
book published and asking someone to work on a personal project just for you.
Custom Stories take a lot of my time and since it's being tailored just for
you that's why it costs what it does. I assure you Stephen King would charge
you a lot more than 15 dollars a page if you asked him to write a personal
story for you." Her blood was boiling. She wanted to do more than punch him
now. She wanted to rip his head off. "And even if you're not talking someone
famous like him - if you were going to a dominatrix or a session wrestler to
do a live session or a custom video for you, they would charge you over $500
an hour. I promise you I'm not making anywhere near that. This is what I do
for a living, I don't have a day job, so I need to charge what I do to pay my
bills. $15 a page is a really good deal, I promise you."

She made it a point to hit her mouse hard when she clicked to reply to this
one. "LMAO!! The thing you don't get, you MORON, is that you are NOT Stephen
king!!!! And what are you talking about with dominatrixes and shit?? Im
talking about a goddamn customed story!!! Now are you going to write me a
fucking custom story or not?"

"I'm sorry, Melissa," he wrote back and she took the fact that he was acting
all calm no matter what she did as patronizing which just riled her up more.
And why did he keep calling her by her name? They didn't even know each other.
"But I'm not going to be able to help you."

"Well fuck you!" she wrote back. "Go fuck yourself if u don't want to write me
a story. Good luck getting ur 15 bucks a page. LMAO!"

She clicked 'send' and then sat there for over an hour, thinking of all of the
reasons he was wrong, and thinking about all of the things that she would say
to him if he wrote back, all of the things that she should have written in the
previous emails to really make him feel bad about himself. But no email came
back and since he had been replying to her previous emails immediately, it
sunk in for her that another email wasn't going to be forthcoming. And even
worse, the mother fucker probably was getting people to pay him 15 dollars a
page for his stupid stories. All of those other people were making him think
it was OK to try and rip people off like this. She punched her desk and
finally got up.

Sleep didn't come easily for Melissa that night, and it didn't come at all, as
she tossed and turned all night thinking about how he was wrong and different
things she should have said. It wasn't the first time that she stewed over an
instance where she thought she was mistreated but this one pissed her off more
than usual. She wanted that damn story.

A little after 5 a.m. when she realized she wasn't going to sleep that night,
she got up and checked her email. Nothing from Reed. This wasn't over. She
didn't know much about him, though. She did have his name and email. Would
that be enough? There was no harm in trying.

**

It was a good thing that she was so short so she could kneel under this pine
tree fairly comfortably. Every light in the interior of the house was off and
there was no car in the driveway. The only light was over the front porch
outside. She had no idea when he'd be back, if he'd be back, or even if he was
the only one that lived here. But she had driven over 5 hours here so she had
to move forward. He had to be home at some point. And she did know it was him,
there was that. It helped that there wasn't another Reed Tuffin in the
country. Everything she found about him matched that this was him.

She saw headlights coming in the driveway and she felt the adrenaline shoot
throughout her body. The headlights went off without her being able to see
what kind of car it was. She watched his silhouette getting out of the car, a
tall skinny looking guy. She watched him fiddling with his keys. She had to
act now. She picked up her bag.

**

Reed was thinking if he was going to watch Netflix or hockey as he held his
key between his fingers and moved it towards the door. This was how he ended
every day, home alone making this type of decision, and he was fine with that.
He put the key in the door and it was when he started to turn it when he felt
the strong grip squeeze his wrist and scare him half to death.

He looked down at the girl who stood about a foot shorter than him, clenching
his wrist far too tight for him to try and break free, with a crazy look in
her eyes, a smile on her face that didn't look the least bit friendly. Her
free fist came towards his face and he was too slow to even have a chance of
getting up a guard. The fist hit him right in the eye.

He had time to think about how much that hurt and how awful that was before he
fell to his knees. It already felt like his eyes was starting to swell up and
he was terrified. He felt her light but strong body jump on his back. Her left
arm came around the front of his neck and choked him tightly. As he pulled on
her arm desperately trying to pull it off of him, she was already locking her
arm with her other arm to complete the rear-naked choke on him.

He felt her arm tightening around his neck and choking him out. Her arm was
skinny and small but it was so strong. He didn't spend much time trying to
pull it off of him. He knew right away he had no chance and he didn't want to
feel her arm crushing his Adam's apple much longer. He started desperately
tapping out on the cement of his porch, not having his hopes up that whoever
this crazy bitch was, was going to honor a tap out after her sneak attack. But
what else could he do? He rapidly tapped on the cement but of course she
wasn't letting go.

"You're gonna get up." He didn't know if feeling her breath inside of his ear
as she said that or just the pure evil in her voice was more disturbing.
"You're gonna open that fucking door. And you're gonna let us both in. One
fucking wrong move out of you and I'm gonna choke you out so hard and not let
go."

She loosened up but actually stayed on his back as he started to get up. He
felt how light she was as he did and that just made him feel more embarrassed
about the fact that she was able to overpower him so easily. When he was
standing up all of the way she finally slid down his back and let her feet
touch the ground. Before he could even think about whether he wanted to try
anything, he felt her hand clench the back of his hair like she was grabbing
the collar of a wild dog who was about to run away and try and attack someone.

He started turning the key. He couldn't believe he was going to let this
maniac in his house and now that she wasn't choking him out anymore he felt
like such a pussy for allowing her to do this to him. This chick was tiny and
she sneak-attacked him, why wasn't he just turning around, kicking her little
ass, calling the cops, and being done with this? Feeling that tight grip on
his hair still made him not want to. Once they got inside he would take care
of this, he promised himself that.

She pushed him forward into the dark living room when he opened the front
door. He flipped the light on and she quickly closed the door and locked it
once they were in. He turned to face her. She looked so small and that made
him feel confident that her sneak attack was a fluke. She was carrying a bag
on her shoulder and she kicked off a pair of flip flops she was wearing so she
was barefoot. She also looked like a major bitch which made him angry and
motivated him even more.

"So, you're gonna ... " she started to say.

She stopped talking when he grabbed her shoulders and tried to push her into
the door. She planted her bare feet and he couldn't believe how strong her
body felt as he tried to push her back. He could feel her frustration building
up as he pushed harder and the short girl just stood there looking up at him
with a look like 'that all you got?'

She was close to a foot shorter than he was. Why was he fucking around? He
reached his arm around her and put her in a headlock, the girl being much too
short to stop him. He pulled her head into his hip and held it there. He
wasn't sure what to do next but at least he had her for now.

"Seriously, you're gonna try this?" she said.

She let out a grunt that sounded more like one of annoyance than anything as
she started pulling his arm off of her and he couldn't stop her. He thought he
had a pretty good headlock but he couldn't keep a hold of the small girl. She
pulled herself out of the hold easily and looked up at him, her face red, and
a 'fuck you' kind of smile on her face.

With speed that he couldn't compete with, her hand came in, grabbed his
collar, and yanked him towards her. Her little fist punched his face and boy
did it sting. He looked at the pissed-off but confident look on her face as
she kept bringing her fist in more and hitting him over and over again. It
took about seven painful ones before he fell to the floor.

Things looked fuzzy as he looked up and looked around. Before he knew it her
bare foot pushed right into his throat and her foot alone was enough to keep
him down. There was just so much strength in her leg and the fear of his
throat getting crushed made him afraid to fight too hard as he didn't want to
anger her any more.

"Heh-heh-heh," she chuckled, a girly, somewhat sexy sounding chuckle that
really bothered him as he felt the softness of her foot pushing into this
throat, though she had loosened up a bit. He had written a lot of foot fetish
stories. He loved looking at beautiful feet on the internet but had never
actually had a female foot doing this to him. He had already decided he was
going to stop writing but he was most definitely going to stop writing foot
fetish stories. Real life feet clearly weren't as nice as he liked to imagine.

"So you going to write me that story now?" she said.

Fuck. It was that Melissa bitch, he had no doubt. Fuck. How did she track him
down? He almost asked her but he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of
asking her. He knew. He didn't know exactly how but he knew enough. It was his
fault. When he had posted his first story online over ten years ago he had
considered using a pen name. But when he did that he would never have guessed
in a million years that writing these stories would have blossomed into a full
time career for him. And once he started posting with that name he had to
stick with it. Reed Tuffin was the writer everyone wanted to read, that was
the name with the credibility. Plus, he thought he had a good name for a
writer. Reed, like read, like what his readers did. His fucking last name he
should have changed at least. Tuffin was among the top 10 least common last
names in the country and as far as he knew from Google searches he had done
when he was bored, he was the only Reed Tuffin in the country.

He looked up at her and she actually looked fairly similar to how he had
pictured her. Short, mean, a bit pretty, and he even pictured the curly hair.
Being able to picture people just by hearing them or seeing what they wrote
was a skill he had that helped him as a writer. She had really pissed him off
when she was emailing him. One thing he liked about being a femdom writer was
that pretty much all of his clients were extremely polite and reasonable. The
most annoying people he dealt with normally were just ones who were trying to
be sneaky and get him to write stuff for them for free. At 34-years-old and
after over ten years of doing this, he could deal with people like that. But
Melissa had been so incredibly rude and obnoxious to him when he was being
nothing but polite to her. He had stayed calm but he felt his blood boiling on
the inside as he was emailing with her and eventually he had had to step away
from his computer because his hands were starting to shake.

"Come on, get up," she said and she took her foot off his neck, confident that
he wasn't going to try anything. He didn't. It looked like that had already
been established. He was such a pussy.

He got to his feet. She gave him a good shove. He didn't have a big house and
his work station was in the corner of his living room. He walked over to his
desk, turned on the desk lamp, and powered up his laptop.

"So this is where all the genius work gets done," she said with a tone like
they were suddenly good friends.

"What do you want me to write you a story about?"

"Well first have a seat and relax. We're not going to rush this." He sat down.
She pulled up a folding chair to the side of him so it was facing him and she
had a seat. She had gone from looking angry to looking giddy that she was
sitting with this writer who was going to write her a story. He thought she
shouldn't be giddy. She had been right. He wasn't Stephen King.

She stretched out her short bare legs and he didn't know how this crazy bitch
was wearing shorts in January. She pushed the arches of her feet into the edge
of the chair he was sitting on and pushed her little toes into his leg. He
didn't like the feeling of her toes pushing through his jeans like that.

"So about the story," she said and she looked curiously around the room,
putting her hand on the bottom of her chin and tapping underneath her mouth
with her fingers. "You know, I had a couple of good ideas for a story but I
think what we have going on now is even better. You can write a story about
how I came into your house, made you my story slave, and forced you to write a
story for me. How I kicked your ass and then you were too afraid to do
anything about it so you had to write the story for free. And then how I moved
in after that and made you wire all of the money you made from your way
overpriced Custom Stories to me! Yeah, this is a great idea, and we can post
it online, you'll get plenty of Custom Story orders from this."

She gave him a smile looking way happier than he wanted her to look. He took a
deep breath. There was no way she was staying here a second longer than after
this story was done. But he wasn't going to argue with her about that now.
Just get this crazy bitch her story and she should be happy and get out of
here. There was no way she could pull off anything past that without getting
caught. And he had to admit that this situation did make a pretty good story
that he could do a lot with.

"You can use your own name for your character," she said. "You know, people
might actually wonder if the story is actually true. They won't care enough to
actually try and help you or anything, no one is good-hearted enough these
days to do that. But they might wonder enough where it sucks them into the
story. I don't want to use my name, though. I have a better name for my
character - Mistress Distress. I mean, I definitely cause a lot of distress,
you know that, and it even rhymes. What do you think?"

What he thought was that it was beyond stupid. Unlike the majority of the
other femdom stories he read online, he liked his stories to be as realistic
as possible, that was one of the major things that set him apart from other
authors that wrote about women that were ten feet tall or chicks Melissa's
size that could just suddenly pick up Hulk Hogan and easily throw him across
the room. No women in the real world went by 'Mistress' and even professional
dominatrixes that used that title almost always followed it up with a regular
name. At first he didn't think it was a good idea to tell her this as he
didn't want to get beat up again and figured it would be better just to give
her whatever she wanted just to get this over with. But he was a writer and it
looked like this story was going to end up getting posted online. He'd write
the damn story for free but hell if he was going to post bad work under his
own name.

"May I suggest we don't use that name for your character?" he said, watching
her curious reaction and not being sure if he should be afraid of it or not.
"The name just doesn't sound very believable. And all it takes sometimes is
one unbelievable aspect of the story to shut the reader out fairly quickly."

As he felt Melissa's toes push into his legs harder he watched her little
fists clench at her sides and he flinched, thinking that he was about to get
punched. But her fists stayed at her sides. He could see the movement of her
front teeth grinding underneath her closed lips.

"Yeah you're right, it was a stupid idea," she said, not making eye-contact
with him and she was clearly angry with herself right then and not him. He
actually felt bad for her as she looked genuinely embarrassed for suggesting
it. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. But still don't use the name Melissa, the ugly
name that my bitch mom gave me. No one hears the name 'Melissa' and thinks of
a beautiful woman. Give me a pretty name. Name me 'Valentina'. That's not a
stupid idea, is it?" Her tone suggested that he was the one that said the
other name was a stupid idea.

"Nope, that's fine," he said, not wanting to sound like he was giving her any
credit for the creation.

"Alright, perfect," she said, excitedly rubbing her hands together. "Alright,
so here's the outline of this story and I just want you to elaborate on it and
make it really good. I'll give you the basis and you do your thing. You're
coming home all alone by yourself because no woman would ever be interested in
you. I sneak up behind you and just be really descriptive about how small I am
but how I totally kicked your ass and there was nothing you could do about it.
Make the fight outside sound really good and the one inside too. But just
write that you struggled a lot more than you did. It'll make it a lot more
interesting if you're not a total pussy. Then write about how I forced you to
write all about it. Then how after you posted the story I moved in with you
and all of the money you made off your stories went to me and you became my
slave after that just writing stories to feed and pamper me. Can you do
something with that?"

There was plenty he could do with that. It was a great story idea. It was
going to have to stay as a story but there was plenty he could do with it.

"Yeah, I can make that work."

He saw the excitement on her face. She was about to get an impressive Custom
Story for free so he couldn't say that he blamed her.

"Awesome! How long do you think it will take?"

"I don't know, how many pages do you want it?"

She gave him a look of disgust. "How many pages, I don't know, however many it
takes! This isn't some business transaction and I don't want you condensing it
just to fit in some certain parameter. Write the story and take as many pages
as you think it will need!"

"Then I don't know how long it will take!" he snapped back. She gave him a
look like she had just been put in her place. It was almost 8:30 at night. He
normally didn't write at night as his ideas were always the freshest in the
morning. He didn't want to be up all night writing this story. But there was
no way she was sleeping over. "Could take a few hours, it honestly could take
me all night, if you just want me to write it I really have no idea. But I
better get going on it."

"Alright, alright, fine, get going. I can't leave you alone in this room,
obviously. But I'll stay out of your way. Just focus on the story and make
sure you don't try anything funny. I have rope and a ball-gag in my bag but I
want you to be comfortable when you write. It will be better for both of us if
I don't have to use them."

He felt the fear shoot through his body when he heard her say that and he felt
like he was going to throw up the ziti that he had for dinner. Shit just got
real. She put her feet down on the floor and started playing around on her
phone. He got to work.

**

"Mom, how many times do I have to tell you, I have no fucking idea!!" he
listened to Melissa yell into her phone as she paced back and forth behind him
while he tried his best not to let it distract him and work. "I mean it could
be months before I get home, literally, maybe even longer than that. I'm
thirty years old, mom, you can't tell me to come home and if I don't come home
it's no business of yours. The clothes?? Are you kidding me, the fucking
clothes?? No, I'm not going to be picking those clothes up, what part of I'm
not going to be home for months don't you understand??"

He tried his best to drown her out as he wrote. Her yelling was making his
work suffer but he'd have to deal. There was also the nervousness that he had.
Once he finished this story it would be determined if Melissa was going to be
leaving or staying. Based on the conversation he was listening to with her
mother it was seeming less and less likely that she was going to be leaving.
While that frightened him, the fear of it actually helped his work in a way.
Normally he was coming up with his ideas straight out of his head but his
story ideas had never been as real as they were right then.

**

"Valentina is standing to the right of me, staring me down, gently punching
her left open hand with her right fist, waiting for me to finish up the story.
Standing up, she isn't much taller than I am sitting down. I can feel the
sweat inside my clothes and on my hands as I type this, hoping this story will
be satisfactory for Valentina. Or as she has now renamed herself inside my
home - Mistress Distress."

Reed was kneeling on the ground to the right of Melissa who was scrolling down
on his laptop with her left hand as she read the story. She had pulled her
shorts and thong down so they were halfway between her knees and her ankles.
Her right hand was fingering herself and she was moaning as she read it. It
was the most unpleasant sight that Reed had ever seen. He felt like he was
being sexually abused watching her get off right in front of him like he
wasn't even there as she read his story he was forced to write her for free,
even though she wasn't touching him.

"I'm finishing up but Mistress Distress isn't going to be leaving. She could
end up being here for months. If you are reading this, please come and find
me. Please help!"

"Ah!" Melissa moaned with great satisfaction as she read the last line of the
story. "Oh fuck yeah - this is so good! And the Mistress Distress name fits in
perfectly. I told you it was a good idea, I fucking told you!"

He wanted to look away as he watched her finger herself more rapidly and get a
look on her face like she was about to explode. He could tell she was having
an orgasm based on the noises she made next. She fingered herself some more,
finished up, pulled her fingers out of her pussy, and put them right on his
keyboard. She looked down at him.

"That was fucking amazing," she said. "How do you post this online? You gotta
send it somewhere?"

"No. I'm the most popular writer on the site so I've actually just been given
access to download my stories on there and have them pop up instantly. They
need to keep me happy."

"Oh yeah then post it now, post it now!"

She pulled her shorts up and moved aside, allowing him to take over, now
looking excited like he was doing her a favor as opposed to being bossy. He
posted the story. He didn't want to look at her. He was afraid of what was
next.

"How long you think before someone will respond to it and tell you they want a
Custom Story?" she asked him excitedly.

He rolled his eyes. "Well I just posted it. No one is going to read it right
away, especially since it's 2 in the morning. There's a good chance no one
will even write to me about it."

She looked at him saying nothing, a smile developing on her face that he did
not like. A staring contest began between the two and she looked more amused
as more time passed with silence while Reed got more nervous. He wanted the
uncomfortable silence to be broken but he wanted it to be broken by her.

"I wrote your story," he finally spoke up and said. "You've gotten exactly
what you wanted. I'm going to have to ask that you leave now."

She chuckled, a feminine sounding chuckle, that sounded a bit sexy as much as
he hated to admit it. "Oh yeah, now you're asking me?" she said and now her
tone scared him. He could sense the threat in it. "Because before you wrote me
the story you wanted me to stay, right? It's only now that you're finished
that you ask I leave?" Her legs were crossed and he watched her sway her foot
sway back and forth as she tried to show power. He was finding it hard to stay
strong. He spent his time behind a computer screen and had very little
interaction with people so it was difficult. But he had to.

"Get out of my house," he said and he started to stand up. She just looked up
at him, not moving. Once standing, he put his hands under her armpits and gave
her a rough tug trying to pull her up.

She jumped to her feet and before he knew it she had a strong grab on him and
was plowing him across the room. He didn't know how this tiny girl had this
kind of strength but he didn't stand a chance against her. He could do nothing
but feel his feet backpedal on his floor as he just hoped he wouldn't fall
down. She had pushed him a lot faster than he realized and it surprised him
when his back slammed against his wall, then his head jerked back and the back
of his head hit against it as well. Melissa methodically moved her arm and
pushed her left forearm into his throat using it to hold him there. Her right
fist came up and he could do nothing as he saw it come at his face and hit him
square in the nose. With speed, she drew back and punched him in the face
again. Her fist kept hitting him rapidly, the smile on her face growing with
each one like this was what she had been waiting for all night. He watched
that smile on her face stay there as she hit him again and again with no care
with the pain that she was causing him with each punch. If he wanted to beg
her to stop at that point he couldn't, the punches were coming in too rapidly.

His head dropped to the side and her forearm pushing into his throat was the
only thing that kept him on his feet. She held her fist back looking at him
like she was trying to decide if he was faking. When she pulled her arm away
from his throat he just dropped to the floor and even he wasn't expecting that
to happen so fast.

He landed on his shoulder but she forced him on his back and sat on his chest.
Her legs were so small but he felt how strong they were as they firmly closed
in on his sides. She drew her fist back again and he could tell immediately he
wasn't going to have a chance. She belted him right in the face and he could
not take this pain. His eyes has started watering up when he was still on his
feet but the next punch that he took broke the seal and he felt the tears just
start pouring down his face. If she noticed, she didn't care as her punches
continued to come in just as rapidly. Her fists were so little that she was
able to punch him over and over again, enough to cause pain, but with not
enough size in her fists to knock him out which he thought he would have
preferred at that point, no longer be able to look up at this crazy bitch beat
on him like it was playtime.

He needed her to stop, he'd do anything at this point, giving in to the fact
that she had defeated him and he was going to have to do what she wanted if he
wanted this to end. He put his hands up in submission and when she continued
to unload on him he thought it may be too late, that she was just going to
punch his face until there was none of it left. She finally started to slow
down and then she held her fist above his face looking ready to bring it down
again with one wrong move.

"You gonna let me stay here?" she said, clenching her teeth looking ready to
strike again.

"How long?"

She punched him in the face again. There was no winning with this chick.

"You gonna let me stay or not?" Her fist was shaking. She looked irritated now
which was the only thing that was worse than the crazy happy look she had on
her face just a little bit earlier.

"Yes."

"You don't live here with anyone do you?" she said, her fist still up. "I
don't see signs of anyone else and I doubt you have a wife or a roommate who
just coincidentally decided to have a sleepover somewhere else tonight. Is
that right? Don't lie to me!"

That fist was good insurance that he wouldn't lie. He could feel his face
really swelling up. "You're right."

"You told me this is your only job. That's true too, right? You don't have to
leave this house to go to work or anything ever?"

He thought briefly if he wanted to lie about that answer or if there would
even be any benefit if he did. With her fist shaking and the impatient look on
her face, he didn't have much time to think about it and he was going to have
to go with the truth. "This is my only job," he said and as the words came out
of his mouth he felt certain that he was going to regret them.

She put her fist down. At least that was a relief. But his face sure hurt like
hell. "I'm going to be staying a while. I'm going to make some money off of
you and get off at the same time. You know, they say that if you be patient
you'll get your break someday. I thought that was a bunch of bullshit and that
it would never happen for me but it looks like my break finally came. It's
about fucking time. Come with me."

She grabbed him by the hair, yanked him to his feet, and began walking him
through the room. She picked up her bag and held it over her other shoulder.
She pulled him down the hallway anxiously.

"Yeah only one bedroom, you definitely don't live here with anyone else, and
no woman would ever want to sleep with you in a bed that small. Come on."

She pulled him in the bedroom and threw him on the hardwood floor hard. She
opened up her bag and pulled out two pieces of rope.

"What the fuck?" he said.

"Shut up."

"I'm not gonna fight ... "

"I said, shut up!"

She kneeled down and punched him in the face. She easily took his arms behind
his back, forced him face down, and began tying his wrists together. The knot
felt so tight as she tightened and what was worse than the pain was knowing
that trying to get out of this if she was going to sleep here wasn't going to
be an option. She did the same to his ankles. She rolled him back over on his
back and he saw she was holding a ball-gag.

"Come on ... "

"Am I going to have to start beating on you again to get you to shut up?"

She strapped it in and the helpless feeling of having his limbs tightly tied
together while he had to focus on breathing through his nose with this thing
in his mouth might have been even worse than getting punched. He looked up and
watched her strip down to her underwear.

"Get some rest," she said and she jumped into this bed. "I have a feeling
you're going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

**

He heard her lightly snoring quickly and feeling as adrenalized as he did, he
didn't know how she was able to fall asleep that fast even if she wasn't tied
up and gagged. He tried to wiggle around but she had really tied him tight and
just the movement hurt his wrists and ankles so he gave up on trying after not
much effort. That was the kind of coward he was and as he lay there focusing
on trying to breathe through his nose he thought about what a failure he was.
He had been proud of himself building up his business to do something he loved
but this made it set in for him that he had nothing to be proud of. He now
just focused on his breath as he was realizing that only having your nose to
breathe out of didn't exactly make it easy. Focusing on his breath took his
attention away from anything else that might be going on with his body.

He opened his eyes and saw her in the dark kneeling above him with that
confident smile on her face, the smile that said everything, that she was a
tough, dominant woman and he was a wimpy coward that should do everything he
said. He couldn't believe he actually wrote stories about this kind of thing
now that he knew it was nothing to joke about. There was nothing cool about
the helpless feeling of being dominated by a female.

"Get up you little bitch," she said and he could tell that she was grabbing a
hold of his hair though he really couldn't feel it. "I fucking live in this
house now, it's my house, you're just gonna be the one to work to pay for it
all. I own this house, I own you, all mine, mine, mine!"

Her fist came forward and he felt himself wanting to try and move to defend
himself but his whole body felt numb. Right at the moment was when her fist
hit his face was when he woke up from this short dream. He felt a brief moment
of relief thinking that maybe the whole thing had been a dream until the
feeling of his wrists and ankles being tightly tied together as well as the
ball-gag in his mouth all reminded him it was not. It was still dark in the
room and Melissa was still asleep on the bed.

Once awake, he didn't think he'd be able to sleep in this condition but
despite being tied up and gagged, he did fall in and out of sleep for the rest
of the night when his body just couldn't stay awake, having brief little
nightmares about Melissa's presence but none of them being as vivid as the
first one.

"Hey, wake up, wake up," he heard Melissa saying which at first was part of
the next dream he was having but when he figured out it was real it woke him
up. "Get up, come on, it's the morning!" She spoke innocently and excitedly as
if she was waking up on Christmas morning and once his eyes focused, the look
on her face looked like that as well. "Come on, let's go!"

Despite her innocent excitement, she still grabbed his hair plenty hard as she
tried to pull him up to his knees. She had clearly forgotten that his legs
were tied up as she had to attempt a couple of steps before she realized he
wasn't moving. She turned to look at him, looking curious rather than
frustrated. She removed the ball-gag from his mouth but when she put her hands
under his armpits he was, once again, amazed at how easily the strong, small
girl could drag him along the floor.

He lay on the floor next to her chair as she sat there and pulled up his
email. "You got a bunch of emails already!" she said. "Get up and see!" She
pulled him by the hair making him sit up. He looked at the screen. 7 emails
were in his inbox. He had never gotten such a quick response to his stories
before. She clicked on the first email. It read:

"Holy shit, you're latest story is without a doubt the best story that you've
ever written. You're characters always suck me in but the way you described
Mistress Distress and the whole situation you truly made me feel like the
situation was really happening. It excited me and gave me chills at the same
time! Do you have time to do a Custom Story for me? I have some ideas about
what I'd like to see Mistress Distress do to you next. I had never really
thought about getting a Custom Story from you before but after reading that I
got to have one. Please let me know more details. Thank you."

"You see?" Melissa said as she turned around and looked down at him. "After
all of these years you just wrote your best story yet. All inspired by me. I'm
gonna make some money off of this guy. He wants it bad. 25 dollars a page is
going to be the new rate."

He gave an annoyed chuckle at first, sure the she was kidding, but then could
tell she was not when she turned to look back at the screen.

"You do remember that you flipped out on me when I quoted you at fifteen
dollars a page, right? No one is going to pay twenty five dollars a page."

"Sure they will. Like you said, most professionals charge a lot more per hour
than you do. And this is your best story yet. This dude will pay and the rest
of them will pay, trust me."

"Do you know how much resistance I get at fifteen dollars a page??" He didn't
care about upsetting her anymore, when it came to his business, he was going
to defend his way of doing business. "Yes you do, since you were one of them."

She paid no attention to what he said, now focusing back on the computer
screen, driving him even more crazy since there was nothing he could do about
it.

"The first thing you need to change if you're going to be asking people for
twenty five bones a page is your cheese ass emails. All your exclamation
points and the way you talk to people like you're best buddies makes you sound
desperate. Gotta be to the point and make the person feel like they're lucky
to be talking to you. This is how you write an email:

"My story rate is 25 dollars a page. Paid upfront, no refunds. Page minimum is
ten pages. Send me an outline with payment for how many pages you want and Ill
have this to you within a week after I receive payment."

She clicked 'send'. It was the most off-putting email Reed had ever seen, and
the ten page minimum was completely unnecessary and just made it worse. There
was no way this guy was going to even bother writing back but Reed knew it was
pointless to tell her that so she'd just have to find out on her own. She
started scrolling through the rest of the emails without responding to any of
them just to scope them out. They were all quite similar where the sender was
extremely excited about the most recent story, every one of them actually
asked for a Custom Story, and all of them wanted it to be some sort of sequel
to the most recent one, with 'Mistress Distress' doing all sorts of bad things
to him. Looking at all of this potential business she was going to blow
responding to the emails, not just for this story but for potential future
ones, he had to speak up.

"All these people are not going to pay twenty five dollars a page!" he yelled
at her. "Offer fifteen for the rest of these, please!" Part of him feared his
tone might result in him getting beaten up again but he didn't care. She just
kept reading the emails and ignoring him anyway.

"Oh look, you've got another one," she said. "It's a reply from that first
dude we emailed back."

"Yeah no problem!" the email read. "I just transferred you $1250 for a fifty
page story. Can you have Mistress Distress beat you up even worse this time?
Then can she sexually abuse you? Force you to give her oral every day, beat
your bare ass with a belt, and then tighten it around your throat and choke
you with it? I can see Mistress Distress doing that. Make the story really,
really intense OK, and really make me feel your suffering like it's real like
you did in the first one? OK???? THANK YOU!"

A $1250 order. He had never received that much in one order before. As much as
he loathed this woman, she was definitely taking his business to the next
level. If this guy was paying this then at least a few of the other emailers
would as well.

"$1250, sweet," she said. "Now I'll give you my information so you can
transfer that right to me."

Briefly he thought that he should stand up for himself and no longer stand for
this any longer, but he already tried that once and she had taught him that
wasn't a good idea. Finally he had gotten a break to go to the next level in
his business and all of his rewards were going to go to her. Nothing could
ever work out for him smoothly. He had thought a few times that he couldn't be
any more of a coward but as he wired all of his hard earned money to her it
was even worse. He hated her as he looked at her smile enjoying it.

"Cool, I am going to live here and live comfortably," she said. "I am going to
need your phone, I didn't even think of that last night. Double damn good
thing that I tied you up, huh? I'm guessing I'll find it in your pocket since
I found you coming home." She dug around in his pockets like she had every
right to do so then quickly pulled his big phone out of there. She pulled it
out and looked at it like she had found a new toy. "Password?" she said to him
and he watched her take access to even more of his privacy. "Ah, not a single
message since I came along. That's good. You didn't strike me as someone that
has a lot of people that want to talk to you or give a shit what you're doing
but it's good to know for sure that they don't. I'll be holding onto this just
in case, though. You get any calls or texts from anyone I'll make sure they
get a text back from you telling them you've just been busy with work and are
going to be tied up for a while. I'm thinking that won't seem like anything
out of the ordinary to anyone but if I see anyone getting suspicious we'll
cross that bridge when we come to it."

She was right about the fact that no one was going to notice or care if he
went off the radar for a while. The only time it was ever a sure thing anyone
would see him were Thanksgiving and Christmas. With it being the middle of
January, she could keep him here for a good 9 months if she so desired. And he
wouldn't be able to do shit.

"I'm going to have to gag you up again," she said. "This is the biggest payday
I've ever seen so I'll go out and stock us up on groceries - my treat. I'll
come back. We'll have breakfast together. Get you cleaned up a bit however we
need to before you start your work day. Then I'm going to beat the ever living
shit out of you, worse than you ever could have imagined. Beat your ass with a
belt. Choke you with it. Then I'm gonna see how well you eat pussy. This guy
has some good story ideas, I must say. But you obviously write a lot better
when it's real. After that we're gonna get some more story orders from these
other people then find out what else I'm gonna do to ya. Open wide."

**

3 MONTHS LATER:

"Help! I am telling you all, these stories are not just stories. I'm literally
a prisoner of this woman and it's not any kind of sexual fantasy. This is
worse than anything I've ever imagined and I need someone to help me. Please!
She found me. You can too. I am a prisoner! PLEASE HELP!!"

"Ha-ha!" Melissa laughed loudly as she fingered herself on the chair while
reading the end to the latest story. Reed kneeled next to her, not tied up or
gagged. It was the middle of the day and that was only done when she was
sleeping or out. He hadn't gotten on a scale but he had to have lost 15 pounds
since Melissa first came along and he had already been skinny enough at that
point.

"I'm loving these endings you put in!" she said. "You're striking the emotions
of the people but they love it. We keep getting more story inquiries. Last
three have ended like this and it's perfect, your readers keep wanting more. I
knew I'd get my break someday!"

**Email ajbrown2005@yahoo.com if you would like more information on my Custom
Stories**