Spin Dry

by Sam Jayne

“Pile of fucking crap!” Kay hopped off the top of the washing machine to boot the failing contraption. It was more or less dead, held together only by industrial tape. There was no argument, a new one was needed, but continuously it packed up at the most crucial moments and Kay thought sometimes it was simply taking advantage of its power over her. She growled in frustration, her groin burning, and kicked the washer with as much force as she could muster. Almost instantly it spun back into action, vibrating manically, louder than an aeroplane taking to the skies. Kay bared her teeth and vaulted back to her seated position on top of the machine. Ten seconds later she orgasmed fiercely, moaning in pleasure as the appliance worked its magic. Such great effort must have drained the last dregs of energy out of the device because, concurrently with Kay’s climax, the washing machine exploded.


Kay, who had been thrown to the kitchen floor, stared at the mess as she sat in a puddle of soapy water littered with burnt-out wires and fowl smelling clothes. She sighed angrily at the thought of the expense which loomed ahead of her. How much did washing machines cost nowadays anyway? No doubt they came with all the frills - an inbuilt fax machine, telephone and internet connection. Perhaps she should just buy a high-powered vibrator instead. Clothes could always be washed in the sink. But no, the washing machine was important. She had never even come close to rising to such heights of pleasure without it. It would need to be replaced.

“Fuck it,” she muttered and, peeling a sodden pair of pants off her head, she hauled herself upright and staggered out of the kitchen to contemplate her washing machine crisis.

Kay lived a simple life. Her flat was plain and almost devastatingly minimalistic. There were three rooms; a kitchen, a lounge-cum-bedroom and a bathroom. The lounge, her current location, was made up only of a ragged mattress and blankets - to serve as a bed - laid out on the rough wooden floor, and a small television set in the corner of the room. Kay didn’t care for art or ornaments. Pointless frivolities, she thought. She enjoyed her own company, though she did admit her washing machine had become something of an unlikely friend. This realisation provoked a short bout of grief over its unpleasant demise, but her mourning period was over as quickly as it had begun. It was time to move on. But how? She needed to find - what? - a couple of hundred pounds for a half decent model with sufficient spin-dry speed. Kay didn’t have that kind of money. In fact she didn’t have any kind of money at all.

Depressed, she grabbed her shoulder bag from the floor and trudged out of the flat to partake unenthusiastically in a spot of window shopping. The mess in the kitchen remained. She would clean it later. The prospect of viewing expensive washing machines through prisons of glass was all she could take right now. Mopping the floor beforehand was asking far too much.

* * *

Old Edward’s Square was a dismal place to be. Crowds swarmed in every direction and, more so, it stank of meat and fish which was being sold on the open market. As a vegetarian Kay found it difficult to refrain from gagging at these odours. It wasn’t a love of animals that prevented her from eating meat, but the thought of such putrid fatty steaks and fillets entering her body. And even without the butcher stalls and the hundreds of people, the Square was still horrendous. Kay preferred to avoid shopping like the plague whenever possible. There were few occasions in her life when she had ever been gripped by an overwhelming urge to shop. Mostly she stayed close to her own flat and bought food from the corner co-op. The corner co-op didn’t sell washing machines. This was a shame. Kay was sure they would be dirt cheap if they did.

“My girl!” A bulk of a man slapped the unprepared Kay across the back of her head.

“What the fuck do you want?” she snarled, clenching her fists as if to prepare for battle.

“Eh, I dunno. Blow job would be nice. I’d pay extra for full sex."

Kay scowled. Jed was the epiphany of sleaze. He was obsessed with sex and, unfortunately, equally obsessed with her. She had never understood this. While she was slim and reasonably attractive - with dark cropped her and almost deathly pale skin - she also exuded hatred and anger. She didn’t consider herself to be a pleasant person or a good friend to anyone and she had never wanted to achieve this status. Why Jed - a burly fool at best - was so transfixed on fucking her was a mystery. She could only guess some men must enjoy the risk of being castrated at any moment.

“You could never afford me,” Kay spat.

Jed grinned toothily. “Wanna bet? Just won two hundred and fifty on a scratch card! Think you’re worth more than that?”

Kay was about to walk away. She didn’t need this today. However, as she turned her eye caught a gleam in the display window of an upmarket homeware store. It was the kind of gleam you see in films - an unearthly glow focused around something so appealing the onlooker is momentarily dazed. She knew in that instant she had found her replacement - a high speed washing machine so alluring to her it should really have been hidden away in a sex shop. The price tag was a hefty two-four-nine.

Tearing her eyes away from the vision of loveliness, she glanced back at Jed.

“What would you expect for two-fifty?” she asked him.

* * *

Jed had never believed he would enter the home of Kay. The beautiful Kay who he had been certain he would never fuck. Most girls he knew were easy and he’d taken them countless times. Not Kay. She had resisted him without relent and Jed had almost accepted this. He was glad he’d pushed it today. His scratch card winnings were a small price to pay for some time with this striking enigma.

“My washing machine exploded,” Kay muttered as a half-hearted explanation for the mess in the kitchen. “I like to sit on it until I climax. It’s the only thing that interests me sexually, so don’t think I’ll enjoy my time with you. I will be detached and unexcited. I’m reserving my passion for my new washing machine.”

Jed thought this was fair enough and seemed unperturbed by the flooded kitchen. He followed Kay into the lounge and obediently sat down on her mattress while she disappeared into the bathroom. When she re-entered the makeshift bedroom his heart was thumping. She stood in her underwear - a black lace thong and bra - and brandished a cat o’ nine tails which Jed had purchased from an adult shop on one of the backstreets leading from the Square.

There was no hesitation as Kay pushed Jed’s head forward roughly so that he lay on his stomach on the mattress. She stripped him down to his boxer shorts then, with little regard for any pain he might feel, she tied his wrists and ankles tightly with detached bra straps to nail heads which stuck out of the crude flooring. His legs were forced wide apart, exposing the bulge in his boxers. Kay almost smiled. Initially she had hoped this encounter would be over quickly so she could be paid and buy a new washing machine before the shops closed. She had no inhibitions about sleeping with this man for money - she was not a regular prostitute but the offer had been too tempting to decline. Anyway, now that she stood in this position - with the fate of Jed in her hands - she felt a sadistic thrill running through her veins. She had never liked Jed’s attention much but had also never imagined he would enjoy being dominated. This opportunity to cause pain and torture to someone who had consistently irritated her for the last few years should surely be savoured.

“Worthless scum,” Kay hissed as she drew back the flogger and lashed Jed for the first time. He grunted as the whip struck his body, his buttocks clenching in the confines of his shorts. “Useless dog! Here’s another…”

This time Jed couldn’t contain a more audible yelp as the whips stung into his flesh. Again and again Kay brought the nine tails of the flogger down onto his back, reddening the skin until it was visibly sore. Then she stopped the lashing, leaving Jed to grit his teeth in anticipation for a few seconds before she slithered on top of him and softly pulled down his boxers so they hung rather pathetically round his bound ankles.

His bottom was tense as he awaited his next round of punishment and his swollen testicles rested, uncovered, between his legs. His hard cock had found its way between his stomach and the threadbare mattress. Kay was sure this was uncomfortable for him, but not as uncomfortable as she would make it.

Gently she squeezed Jed’s balls and he moaned in pleasure. But this delicate approach was short lived as Kay drew back the flogger again and thrashed her captive’s buttocks, making doubly sure the ends of the whips kissed icily at those bloated testicles. He screamed out in pain, desperate to clutch his throbbing groin but unable to do so with his hands tied as they were. His body spasmed as Kay whipped him again, refusing him the chance to recover from the previous beating. He was groaning continuously now, but the agony aroused him beyond anything he had experienced before. His crotch felt as it were on fire as a result of both the thrashing and his excitement. His balls were bursting for release.

“I detest you,” Kay growled, only half role-playing. She lashed Jed one more time before crawling onto his back, her weight only adding to the pressure he felt. With her fingernails - regrettably not as long or sharp as they could have been, but effective enough - she clawed at the welts she had created with the flogger. Jed groaned, not wanting to show too much weakness. Then, in one swift movement, Kay slid to the side of Jed, tugged away the straps that bound his wrists and forced him to roll over onto his back. Kay smiled cruelly as she eyed up his manhood. Average size. Nothing extraordinary, but she could tell he was painfully aroused.

“I don’t usually eat meat but I’m going to eat you,” she declared quite seriously, then bent her head down to take in the length of Jed’s cock. She sucked him tenderly to start with, her head bobbing as she increased the speed. Jed whimpered in ecstasy, his climax ever more imminent by the second. Kay realised this as pre-cum seeped out onto her tongue. She lapped up the salty fluid, paused, and then bit into Jed’s rock-hard member. He screamed out, unable to control his agony any longer, and also unable to control his excitement as hot ejaculate flooded into Kay’s mouth. She forced herself to down the thick liquid in one gulp. This wasn’t something she liked to do, but as the man was paying good money spitting was out of the question. In any case, the teeth marks indented into Jed’s penis more than made up for her dislike of swallowing. She was, however, fairly surprised - and in a way impressed - that Jed had once again become hard so soon after his eruption.

“So you want more?” she grinned, and pulled off her own underwear before directing Jed’s hands forcibly to her waist and allowing him to massage her body. Kay was damp with moisture between her legs and, for a moment, she felt slightly embarrassed that this session was turning her on. She had never before expressed any interest in domination or, indeed, in men at all. But now, as Jed rubbed eagerly at her clit, she could feel the excitement welling up inside her.

Kay’s nipples were erect and Jed took one between his teeth now, kissing and sucking them softly, for he dare not treat her with the same disrespect she had shown him. She was his mistress and he was simply a slave. Being permitted to pleasure her was a privilege he had desired for so long.

“Enough!” Kay roared, swatting Jed’s face away from her breasts. She would have liked him to continue for a while longer but she had been forced to suppress a groan of enjoyment out of stubbornness and didn’t think she could continue doing this for much longer. Instead she held Jed’s throbbing cock upright and mounted him, thrusting her body back and forth, pleasuring herself in the process.

Jed fought hard to prolong his peak as they fucked, determined to bring Kay to orgasm first. And it happened. Despite her best attempts at remaining calm her breathing was becoming fast and frenzied and her desire was escalating to unbearable levels. For the second time in a day she threw back her head and climaxed in a powerful spasm. A few seconds later Jed followed suit, his come spilling out into her body.

“Shit,” Kay snarled, still breathing heavily. She was not entirely sure why this word escaped her lips. De-ja-vu, perhaps.

“That was…” Jed began.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kay panted, regaining her composure and pulling on her clothes. “Got my money?”

Jed’s face dropped slightly. He felt hurt by this instant dismissal, but a deal was a deal. He had promised to pay up. “In my trouser pockets,” he muttered.

Kay hunted through Jed’s clothes for a second, before pulling out a wad of notes and dashing out of the house, leaving Jed where he was, still tied to the floor by his ankles. There was only half an hour until the shops closed. She needed to buy the washing machine so the store could deliver it that evening.

* * *

As darkness fell Kay stared happily at her new washing machine. It fit perfectly in her kitchen, which was now mopped and cleaned. No taped-up parts. No impending break-down. She couldn’t wait to try it out.

Turning the controls to the fastest spin-dry speed, she grinned as the machine buzzed into life. On top of the washer Jed sat helplessly awaiting his torture. Kay could not pretend she hadn’t enjoyed the afternoon and was damned if she was going to let this man get away so easily. With a smirk that promised pain she produced the cat o’ nine tails from behind her back and prepared to catch Jed’s cock with each vibration.

Jed shook his head, not quite believing his luck. Who’d have guessed the mysterious Kay was a closet dominatrix? Certainly not him, but there was little time to ponder this now. Duty called. Tensing his buttocks, he held his breath and braced himself as best he could for his very first washing machine thrashing.


Sam Jayne lives in East Yorkshire, England. She has short stories recently published in Skive and Delivered Magazine as well as various online publications in the past. She runs her own new fiction e-zine at www.neonbeam.org.

Spin Dry
© 2007 by Sam Jayn






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