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Altering Annika, Chapter Two

Previous Parts: One


Chapter Two: Just One Night


“Use the shower upstairs,” Davis directed. “I don’t want you filthy in my house. Toss your clothes out in the hall and I’ll take care of them.”

Annika’s cheeks were burning, he could see, with her own shame at having to beg him for a place to stay. It galled her. A flush of shame, he thought, suited her well. He watched her climb the steps to the second floor and waited for the door to shut. Then, he went to work.

First, he retrieved the dog’s bed, now unused, and brought it down to the basement. The basement wasn’t quite finished. In his spare time, he tinkered with it. At one point, Davis had considered turning the place into a “man cave” but had just never quite gotten around to it. He’d gotten as far as insulating the walls and had put up some fluorescent lights on the ceiling crossbeams. A small, flat-screen TV sat against one wall, atop a spare nightstand. There was also a toilet, tucked into a recess, which he’d managed to get a door on.

He grabbed his power drill from the garage, a few hefty screws, and the replacement latch and lock he’d intended for the backyard shed. He hadn’t gotten around to putting it on to replace the rusted one, but now he felt thankful to himself for his procrastination. The last item was a padlock.

Just a little work with the drill and he had the latch in place on the bathroom door. The padlock was quickly secured, and the keys he added to his keyring. He took the steps to the second floor two at a time, feeling spritely enough to almost whistle a tune. On the floor, outside the bathroom door, were Annika’s crappy clothes. He took care of those by tossing them into the dumpster behind the house, buried in the kitchen trash.

His next stop was Annika’s old room, which still held her previous clothes and belongings. With a little help from a large, black garbage bag, all of those joined her tattered ones in the back dumpster. The only things he left her were a small pair of lacy underwear and a mismatched pushup bra. With any luck, her tits had grown a little in the last three years and it wouldn’t fit right.

Working up a bit of a sweat now, he paused outside the bathroom door. The water was still running. Annika had, clearly, had a bit of a rough time and was getting all the use out of the shower she could. Davis went on his way, wondering if she was jilling her twat.

The imagined scenario spurred him on. With the most basic steps accomplished, he unlocked his office and switched on the monitor. Davis was not, he thought, a paranoid man. He did, however, have an aversion to people stealing his shit.

A year ago, both of his neighbor’s homes had been vandalized while they were away. Davis, who worked from home, felt surprised that he’d neither seen nor heard the incident occur. It, however, prompted him to invest in some security cameras and a dog. Damn it. He missed that fucker more than Annika’s mother. While no further incidents had occurred, the cameras were still in operation, He rarely checked them.

On the rare occasions when he needed to be elsewhere for work, he had checked on the cameras remotely. The last time had been months ago, when Annika’s mother was still living with him. Not out of paranoia, of course. It was simply curiosity. Whatever else the woman had been, he didn’t see evidence that she’d been a cheater. She was just a dirty dog thief.

Now, he checked the feeds on each of the cameras. Backyard, check. Front door, check. Kitchen, showing the garage door, check. Interior garage, check. Unfinished man cave, check. Upstairs hallway, check. Master bedroom, check. Annika’s old room, check.

Of course, Annika hadn’t been here when the camera was put in. In fact, after two and a half years, he hadn’t expected her to be back. That one he’d added only because there was a large tree near that room’s window. If a thief were skillful enough, they could possibly enter through that window. Annika had, after all, used that method to sneak out on more than one occasion. After her departure, he’d put the job of installing an additional lock on it on the back burner, along with the man cave. Annika, however, would not need that room.

The sound of water rushing through the pipes overhead ceased, and Davis switched off the monitor. Locking the office, he waited near the bottom of the steps. The sound of the bathroom door opening came a moment later, and then the creak of the floorboards as Annika entered her old room. No doubt, she was in search of clothes.

It was tempting to go back to the office and look through the cameras, to watch her confusion as she found only underwear. He waited, instead. There would be time enough to see her confusion, anger, and many more emotions. If the idea came together the way he intended, that is. There was always the chance she’d just leave, and go crawling back to that twat-licker she’d been shacking up with for the last three years. Based on her appearance at the door, however, he didn’t think it was likely. Finally, her shout from atop the stairs came.

“Davis?”

He gave it a moment longer, rubbed his cock, and she called down again.

“Davis?”

He rounded the corner and looked up the steps.

“Yes?”

“What happened to all my clothes?”

Annika’s head, her hair wrapped in a towel, and her bare shoulders, peeked around the wall.

“We got rid of them. It didn’t seem like you were coming back,” he said and shrugged helplessly.

Annika’s cheeks reddened and she said with disgust, “What about the ones I came in.”

“I tossed those out. They were hardly clothes anymore.”

Annika hesitated and then said, “Can I have them back?”

“Sure.”

Davis returned to the garbage and retrieved the garbage bag with her clothes. It was the same one with the week-old kitchen trash in it. He hefted the bag halfway up the steps, then tossed it the rest of the way to the top.

“There you go,” he said.

Annika looked at the tied-up bag with revulsion and gagged. That would be the rice pudding, Davis imagined. Should have emptied that days ago.

“Are you serious?” she choked.

Davis shrugged apologetically.

“God, it reeks!” she complained and pushed the bag away with one bare foot.

She had nice legs, he thought.

“Do you have something I can wear?” she asked.

Davis thought about it for far longer than was necessary, then said, “Yup.”

He turned and walked back to the kitchen, then fixed himself a sandwich. He slowly spread mayo across the bread, then carefully layered slices of cheese, turkey, a leaf of crunchy lettuce, and a couple of slices of juicy tomatoes. He took a bite, gave a grunt of satisfaction, then grabbed a protein shake from the fridge. It was important to keep healthy, he thought. He took a seat at the table and worked on the sandwich. Slowly.

He gauged that about ten minutes went by before Annika called down again, “Davis?”

With his sandwich in hand, he returned to the bottom of the steps and peered up. He took a large bite and raised his brows in question.

“Are you getting the clothes?”

Davis took a moment to masticate. Best not to swallow too quickly. That was how people choked. When he swallowed he said, “What clothes?”

“You said you had something I could wear!” Annika snapped.

He could hear the restraint in her voice. She wanted to be petulant. It was to her credit, he thought, that she remembered who was doing whom a favor.

“I do have something you can wear,” he said. “I have closets and drawers filled with clothes. They’re men’s clothes, but you can wear them. But you may not.”

Annika looked perplexed as she puzzled over the emphasis on the words.

“May I please wear some of your clothes,” she asked through gritted teeth.

Davis considered this.

“Tell you what,” he said. “I don’t run a charity here. I’m already doing you a solid by letting you stay for one night. I even let you use my shower and my towels. You left that hand towel all dirty and on the floor, by the way. You know how I feel about that.”

Annika flushed. She did know how he felt about it.

He continued, “Once I lend you clothes, you’ll be asking me for food. Once I give you food, you’ll be sitting on my couch, and then you’ll want to pick what we watch on TV. Then, you’ll be wanting to use my blankets and sheets for a spare bed that I own. After that, it’s another phone call. You see where I’m going with this? I’m seeing a whole lot of taking and not much giving.”

“But––”

“Now,” he cut her off, “I’m not an asshole. I kept a roof over your head and clothes on your back for seven years. That’s a lot more than that shitbag of a father ever did for you. So, I’m gonna do you one more solid. You pick. You’ve got clothes in that bag that you can wear. Whatever is left in your room, you can also wear. I don’t know what is there. That was your mother’s doing. You can’t wear my towel. Now, here’s the choice. I can give you some of my clothes to wear, until tomorrow, or I can feed you. I’ll be in the kitchen when you make your choice.”

Annika made a squeaking noise, almost a gasp. Davis returned to his seat at the table and enjoyed his sandwich. He watched the clock for almost twenty minutes.

Finally, he heard the stairs creak. The sound of bare footsteps continued down the hall, and then the back door opened. The sound of the garbage can lid slamming shut followed a moment later. Davis suppressed a chuckle. For the first time, without being asked, Annika had taken out the trash.

He felt almost giddy with anticipation. Did she actually remove the nasty rags from the trash and put them back on? Was she going to walk into the kitchen wearing the small panties and bra? Either option would be satisfying in its own way.

What actually happened, as he should have expected, was satisfying in another way. Annika entered the kitchen, flushed with embarrassment, still wearing the towel around her body. She had, however, given up the one in her hair. The short, black strings were still wet and clung to her skin.

“May I please have something to eat?” she asked, and then added, “I took out the trash for you.”

“The trash appears to be standing in front of me,” he quipped and watched with delight as she reddened further with contained rage. “Your choices were either something to wear or something to eat. You are still wearing my towel, which was not a choice.”

Her eyes flashed with defiance and he saw her jaw tighten. His dick jerked. Davis held his ground, looking back calmly.

“That isn’t fair!” she finally snapped.

“I’m guessing that you’ve learned recently that we don’t live in a universe of fairness,” he said.

He stood, busied himself making another sandwich, as Annika fumed, and then returned to the table. He didn’t need the extra carbs, but he did need to make a point. He raised the sandwich to his mouth and Annika’s stomach grumbled loudly. The shameful flush returned. Davis paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth.

“Fine!” she said. “Take your stupid towel.”

Davis pointedly ignored her as she undid the towel and threw it on the table. She stood before him wearing the skimpy panties and bra. Rather than give her the satisfaction of having him look at her body, though, he looked her directly in the eyes and offered her the sandwich. She snatched it and took a bite as quickly as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Perhaps she hadn’t.

Davis cocked one eyebrow at her as she chewed and she mumbled, “Thk ew.”

He nodded and gestured for her to sit. She did, and then attacked the sandwich like a ravenous dog. Damn it, he missed that dog. While her attention was focused on eating, he gave her tits a quick glance. He couldn’t help it. He compared them with the memory of her tits three years ago in a bikini top, and they did seem larger. That could just be the effect of the pushup bra, though. Hard to tell.

“After you eat, you can go to bed,” he said. “I want you out of here before I start working in the morning.”

Annika choked down her food and said, “Where am I gonna go?”

Davis shrugged.

“I don’t have any clothes!”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“But you can’t just… kick me out!”

“You’re right. I can’t,” he said. “You don’t live here, so I’m not kicking you out. I’m providing you with my hospitality for one evening. It’s only neighborly.” He paused for a moment and then corrected, “You’re not really my neighbor either. I guess it’s more good old human compassion.”

Annika set down the sandwich and her lip quivered like she might start crying again.

Davis gave her some more good old human compassion by patting her hand and saying, “Now, don’t go crying on me. You can just run on back to that cunt licker of yours. Jesper? Crisper?”

“Casper,” Annika sniffled.

“Right, like the friendly ghost. I remember. You two can, I don’t know, pull each other’s hair or slap each other around. Catfight, I guess, and then you’ll get over it. Before you know it, you’ll be tongue deep in one another and all will be forgiven, eh?”

Annika began to sob into her hands.

“Sorry,” he said, unapologetically, “I figured that was how it worked. You have your spat, and then lez off while you listen to… Cunt Punchers? No. Carpet Munchers! That was the one you liked. Got a ring to it, I guess. Anyway, you two lez off and listen to Carpet Munchers spew that man hate and all’s right with the world. After three years of licking slit, I’m sure you can tongue-bang an orgasm out of that pale little twat and get her to say sorry, right?”

Annika sobbed harder and shook her head.

“No?” Davis asked. “What? You cheat on her or something?”

Annika shook her head again and her tits heaved with her racking sobs.

“She didn’t,” he said in mock astonishment. “That two-timing gash smasher cheated on you, didn’t she?”

Annika nodded as she sobbed. Being the kindhearted soul he was, Davis offered her the napkin he’d used to clean his hands, to dry her tears. Annika took it and sobbed into it some more.

“Well, shit,” he said. “That’s a tough break, kid. Well, you can always crowd in at the homeless shelter with the other bums. You’ll probably find yourself a beefy dyke that’ll protect you from the deranged rapists and desperate vagrants, who haven’t felt pussy in a decade. Heck, if you’re really good at licking bulldyke slit, she might even cuddle with you at night, pet your hair, and call you her sugar kitten. When I used to work the docks, I met a few dykes like that. I mean solid walls of muscle that could heft a crate that would have taken two of me to lift. You didn’t mess with their bitches. I’d recommend shacking up quick with the meanest one you can find.”

Just as it seemed she might be getting hold of herself, Davis added, “Otherwise, I give you a week before you’re knocked up and homeless. Maybe less, since you got no clothes.”

This time, Annika gave a wail of desperate agony and then, through her gasping sobs, cried, “You… can’t! Please! What did… I ever… do to… you!”

Davis leaned back in his chair and made a mental checklist.

“There was that American Girl doll for your eleventh birthday. Those fuckers are expensive. Not two weeks before that birthday you were all agog about that damn thing. Remember what you said when you unwrapped her?”

Annika nodded as she cried.

“What am I, ten? That’s what you said. You and that little shit from across the street, Jamie, busted out the Jensen’s front window with a rock when you didn’t like the way the cat always watched you two. Who had to pay for that happy accident? Oh, remember when you lifted my keys before you had a license, and you backed the car into the garage door?”

“Okay!” Annika shouted, her frustration bubbling over, “I’m… I’m a piece of shit!”

“I didn’t say it,” Davis said, shrugging. “Well, anywho, time’s a-tickin’. Let me show you to your room.”

He rose and beckoned Annika to follow. She did so, pressing the sodden napkin to her eyes and runny nose. In the hallway, Davis opened the basement door and started down the steps.

“What… what is that?” Annika bawled. “That’s not… my room!”

“You don’t, technically, have a room,” Davis said. “The spare room, upstairs, in which you used to sleep, is one of my rooms. For the one night I am allowing you to stay here, this is the room I am offering you. If you would rather sleep outside, I didn’t come looking for you and ask you to stay. Right?”

Annika, sniffling, followed him down the steps. She looked about in further confusion and misery.

“It doesn’t have a bed,” she said.

“Sure it does.”

Davis pointed to the dog bed and sighed with regret.

“That’s… I’m not a dog!”

“Debatable,” he grumbled.

Annika straightened up, found a spine, and snapped, “Whatever my mom did to you, she’s the… the cunt! I’m not the one that left you!”

“No, you didn’t. You left your mom. I just had to spend two years hearing about it. Now, if you wanna call me a bastard, go ahead. But I’m a bastard with a home, and a job, and I’m offering you a place to sleep for the night. Take it or leave it, Annie.”

Annika trembled with fury but she, truthfully, had no leverage. She sagged and Davis watched her tits jiggle as she looked about the cold, concrete room.

“May I please have a blanket?” she asked.

“Tell you what,” Davis said and watched her shrink even more. “I’ll let you choose. You can have some water, to wash that sandwich down, or I can give you a blanket. What do you say?”

“Why are you being so mean?”

Davis looked taken aback and he exclaimed, “Mean? Mean would be turning you out in the street right now. I’d say, given that I have zero responsibility for you, what I’m being is pretty doggone generous. If you would rather not avail yourself of my generosity, I can point you in the direction of a homeless shelter. Now, will it be water, a blanket, or the door?”

“May I please have some water?”

“Sure. Here,” he handed her the remote to the TV and switched it on. “You can watch the TV and I’ll get you some water.”

Annika did not seem as if she wanted to watch TV, but having (literally) nothing else to occupy herself with, other than her misery, she accepted the remote. Davis left, and returned a minute later with a glass of water. Annika had turned off the TV.

“Didn’t find anything you liked?”

She tried to kill him with her eyes as she said, “You know I didn’t.”

He handed her the water, which she drank gratefully. She drank half the glass in a long swallow, then set it on the table next to the TV.

“Suit yourself,” he said and shrugged. “I’ll wake you early.”

Davis left her, climbed the steps, shut the door, and took a seat in the living room. He switched on the TV, put on the news, but he didn’t watch it. Instead, he pulled up the app for the cameras on his phone and brought the basement camera up in fullscreen.

He pulled a thick, warm throw blanket over his lap and watched Annika pace back and forth across the chilly concrete, with her arms around herself. It took her ten minutes, but she finally went to the dog bed, looked down at its soft, furry lining, and nudged it with her foot. She shivered. Davis gave a low chuckle. This was better than most shows with budgets and actors.

She kicked at the dog bed again, and then she looked around the empty room. She sank to her knees on the soft cushion, then lay on it. With her arms huddled around herself, she tucked her knees up to her chest and began to cry. Davis rubbed his crotch as he watched her sniffling and sobbing, her hopelessness bringing her ever closer to the time in which she’d have to make more decisions about her future.

Every choice ahead of her was a bad one, and she was reflecting on her life, feeling sorry for herself, but also wallowing in guilt because it was her own fault. He could practically hear her thoughts as she called herself stupid, idiot, and he was certain she also cursed her mother. Davis did, too.

He watched Annika’s misery for almost an hour before she got out of the dog bed and examined the bathroom door. She hefted the lock, tugged on it, and then stamped her foot. Then, she grabbed her foot and hollered. That concrete floor was not very forgiving. She hobbled around the room cursing as Davis chuckled and rubbed his cock. Annika returned to the door and examined it again, then her shoulder slumped in defeat. She started for the stairs.

Davis minimized the camera app and pretended to watch the news. He could hear the patter of Annika’s bare feet on the wood floor of the hallway, then the sound stopped as she paused at the hallway bathroom door. He knew she was trying that one, too, but Davis had already pushed the button lock on the inside. Unless she had a paperclip handy, she wasn’t getting in. Next, she climbed the steps, where she would encounter the same problem. Likewise, if she were brave enough to try to enter his bedroom, that door he kept locked with a real key.

Shortly thereafter, Annika appeared in the doorway, blushing, a touch angry, with her hands on her hips. Davis fixed her with a questioning, annoyed look. She really did have nice tits.

“Why are all the bathrooms locked?” she demanded.

“So that no vagrants or freeloaders make off with my toiletries or use my water. You ever been to one of those gas stations, where they keep the key on some big stick or something? You have to go to the counter and ask for it?”

Annika reddened at being called a vagrant and a freeloader, but she couldn’t deny that the description was accurate. She shifted cutely from foot to foot, her need obvious.

“May I please use your restroom,” she asked.

“Tell you what,” Davis said and Annika gave a frustrated groan. “I’ll give you a choice. I can let you use the potty, but if I do you’re out of here tonight. I don’t let homeless girls in just so they can eat my food and piss in my toilet.”

Annika made a distressed noise and looked like she might cry.

“Or,” Davis said, holding up his hand, “You can go out back and piss like a real homeless girl. If you do that, then I’m going to spank you for pissing on my grass, but I’ll also put a roof over your head for one more night and feed you again tomorrow.”

The humiliated flush in Annika’s cheeks deepened to a near-apoplectic purple fury. Her fists curled into little balls and, for a moment, he thought she might actually charge at him, or at least punch the wall. Instead she stamped her foot again, which he had to admit was just a tad adorable. It also made her tits jiggle nicely.

“I hate you!” she shouted. “I hate you!”

Davis shrugged, then added, “If you want to piss outside, you can also have this blanket. After I spank your ass for pissing on my grass.”

Annika growled one more time and then stalked away.

“Don’t steal my paper towels, vagrant!” he yelled after her.

Another frustrated growl came from the kitchen. A moment later, the back door opened. Davis flicked up the camera app and, sure enough, she crept timidly out the back door and onto the grass. Delightedly, he watched her tip-toe just off of the back porch, pull down her panties, squat precariously, and piss on the grass. When she finished, she looked about and clawed at some grass, which was useless as wipe. With no obvious option, she simply stood and pulled up her panties, then wiped at the humiliated tears in her eyes. Her head hanging, she came back in.

Davis accessed the recording, isolated the video of her pissing, and then set the phone aside. Annika returned to the living room, looking at the floor.

“May I please have the blanket?” she asked.

Davis held the blanket out and said, “Use this to wipe yourself.”

Annika grimaced and said, “I… I have to sleep with that.”

“No. You want to sleep with it,” he corrected. “You don’t have to. You do, however, have to use it to wipe your pissy pussy before I spank you. I don’t want to get piss on my hand.”

He was unmoved by the sight of her further tears as she accepted the blanket and began to walk away. He stopped her. Privacy was a notion that she needed to understand was something that only came at his say-so.

“Right here, vagrant.”

Annika turned back. She looked uncertain if she wanted to curse at him again. The blanket, though, soft and warm in her hand decided for her. She tugged her panties down, just enough to get one small corner of the blanket between her legs, and she wiped her crotch. When she finished, she made to pull the panties back up, but Davis held out his hand.

“I’ll have those,” he said.

“But––”

“You’re already a vagrant that pisses outside,” he reminded her. “I’m not having a vagrant under my roof that wears pissy panties. I’ll have those.”

“That’s gross!” she protested. “You’re so gross! Why are you doing this?”

Davis shrugged again and said, “Netflix gets a bit tiresome. This is entertaining.”

Annika growled again and slapped the wet panties into his hand, smugly saying, “I thought you didn’t want homeless piss on your hand?”

It was a good one, he thought, but he returned, “I changed my mind. Homeowner’s prerogative. Now, come lay across my lap.”

“Can’t I just go to bed?”

“Sure. There’s a shelter downtown. If you start now, you might make it there by morning.”

Annika bowed her head and, with the blanket clutched in her fist, she lay across his lap. Davis took up his phone, admiring her naked, tightly clenched ass and trembling legs. He cast the video from the app to the big-screen TV and heard Annika gasp. The cameras were HD quality, but not up to the challenge of providing a crystal-clear image on the big 4K TV. Still, it was clear enough for Annika to see herself creeping out the back door and onto the grass.

“What the fu––”

Davis slapped her ass and she wailed.

“Okay!” she cried. “Let me up!”

Davis made a noise halfway between a laugh and a snort and asked, “You call that a spanking? Look at you. Creeping around in the night, pissing on people’s grass.”

He spanked her other cheek and she kicked her legs as she screeched.

“I take you in off the street, feed you, clean you up, give you a place to stay,” he spanked her again and she started to sob, “and you go off and piss on my grass!”

Another hard whack fell on her other cheek. She cried and kicked her legs, her ass stinging and turning red, face buried in the couch cushion.

“You look at what you did,” he growled. “Eyes up, vagrant!”

Annika watched herself, on a loop, pissing on the grass. Davis spanked her hard, once on each cheek.

“I’d appreciate an apology,” he said.

“I’m sorry!” she yelled. “Please stop!”

“Tell me you’re sorry for pissing on my grass like a stupid slut.”

He gently rubbed her bottom, then pulled back his hand to get the message across.

“I’m sorry for pissing on your grass like a stupid slut!” Annika howled.

Davis quickly yanked her legs apart and Annika squealed as he laid one last, fast smack right on her naked cunt.

“Apology accepted,” he said. “Now, go to your room and think about what you did.”

Humiliated and violated, Annika daintily stood up and, clutching the blanket, fled as quickly as her stinging ass allowed. Davis flicked the cameras back to real-time and brought up the basement. Annika scurried across the concrete floor, wiping at her face with the blanket. She got back into the dog bed and curled up, pulling the blanket tightly around her. For several minutes, she lay huddled under it. Then, she poked her head out of her shelter and looked around. She looked left, right, and then her gaze turned up, and she looked right into the camera. Her head retreated into the blanket like a turtle into its shell.

“Best goddamn thing on TV,” Davis muttered.



 

Like the sound of this story? Grab the finished book in the shop. Altering Annika is the story of a girl's choices, made in desperation, and the changes those choices bring to her life and her sexuality. 26,000 words and 7 chapters.



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