The Voice
by Deputy Duffy

Debbie Wilson closed the front door to the large house that she had called home, along with her husband and their two young sons, for the last four years. She wiped a small tear from her eye, as she had just said her goodbyes, which she always hated.

Debbie watched from the front window, as her family pulled away in their mini-van. They were off for a weekend trip to visit her husband's mother, whom Debbie also hated. While Debbie would always cry when they left, she would cry that much more when they returned.

Entering the kitchen, Debbie quickly finished cleaning off the breakfast table, and loaded the dishwasher, before she went into the bathroom to draw a bath. She relished in the fact that she could take a hot bath and soak as long as she wanted, without feeling like she was robbing her young sons of their mother's attention. Debbie, who had grown up in a broken home, vowed that when she was a mom she would show her children what the word love really meant.

Nearly nine years ago, Debbie met her husband at work. She was his secretary and sparks flew, even though Debbie knew he was already married. She hated the thought of being the other woman, but she also felt she had found the man of her dreams, despite their 20-year-age difference. Seemingly she was right, as she had spent the last 8 years in a blissful marriage.

Just as Debbie was about to step into the tub the phone rang. Debbie's first instinct was to ignore it, but the thought of her husband and two kids suddenly flashed in her head. She slipped back on her robe, which covered her silky black nightie, and ran into the kitchen and picked up the cordless telephone.

"Hello," Debbie answered.

"Good morning Mrs. Wilson!" A strong voice roared on the other end.

"Who is this?" Debbie said a little alarmed, as the voice was unfamiliar and quite menacing sounding.

"My name is Sam, and yours is Debra, but you like to be called Debbie."

"I don't know any Sams," Debbie interrupted, searching her memory.

"You don't? Well maybe we should change that!" The voice said, following with amorous laughter.

"Man that was creepy!" Debbie cried, as she slammed down the phone.

Debbie took one step back, and then jumped the next, when the phone quickly rang again.

"Hello," Debbie answered again, a little apprehensively.

"Do you and me a favor Debbie, don't do that again, or you will be sorry!"

Debbie shook as the booming voice was back. "Please stop it, you're scaring me!"

"I know it's this voice box; it makes it sound a little scary," the voice boomed and Debbie concurred.

"What's this all about?" Debbie managed.

"First, I just want you to know that I indeed know who you are," the voice barked. "You're 31-years-old, one husband Stan 51, lawyer, married 8 years, two young sons, Preston and Joshua. Your parents both died when you were in your late teens, although you never really knew your real dad. I even know your brother Wilson died of a drug overdose at his eighteenth birthday party."

Debbie slammed the phone down again, her heart in her throat. She had spent the last eight years trying to build a new life, and one phone call had brought her old life crashing back again.

It only took a split-second for the phone to ring again. Debbie's heart was still in her throat, as the phone rang and rang. Each ring rattled Debbie's bones. Debbie finally picked up the phone with trembling hands. "Please if you don't stop calling," Debbie shot out, while cursing herself for answering it again, "I'm gonna call the police!"

"No you won't, because of the unknown," the voice shot back.

"What?" Debbie groaned.

"The unknown of what might happen if you do, and the unknown of what I want," the voice boomed.

"Well, what do you want?" Debbie managed.

"For you to listen up for a second and please don't hang up on me, it's so rude, and it's getting boring," the voice boomed.

"Tell me!" Debbie screamed.

"All right, but let me tell yah one thing first. Your husband's a slow ass driver," the voice boomed.

"My husband?" Debbie asked nervously, while nervously staggering into the living room.

"That's right, we're on highway 97, just past exit 144," the voice shook. "White Mini-Van, personally I prefer black."

"Oh my God! Why are you following my family?" Debbie cried out.

"I just wanted to let you know that we are watching, watching them and watching you."

"Please you are really scaring me!" Debbie cried out.

"Well that's the point. If I were you, I'd be nervous as hell too. Why don't you sit down on the sofa?"

"The sofa?" Debbie said, standing in the middle of the living room, as her body trembled with fear. "Ok, I'm sitting now."

"Really, very good Debbie, test us to see if we can really see yah, still standing in the middle of your living room," the voice boomed.

Debbie dropped the phone and fell to her knees, spinning around, scanning the room. Suddenly she felt flushed, like her face was on fire, feeling much like a rat in a cage. It suddenly became slightly difficult to breathe. Her eye's focused on the phone now lying on the floor. Her mind racing with questions, only the thought of this person following her family, gave her the strength to reach over and pick up the phone.

"I'm sorry, I ah, I dropped the phone," Debbie mumbled, as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"It's understandable, but don't let it happen again. I`m the type of guy who loses my patience quickly," the voice boomed.

"Why are you doing this? How can you see me?" Debbie cried, as tears now streamed down her face.

`Look no need for the water works, just do as you're told and your family will never even know we are here," the voice barked.

"We?" Debbie picked up on, while making her way to her feet again.

"Yes it's a WE, but you will only deal with me, for the weekend."

"For the weekend?" Debbie mumbled.

"Yes, for this weekend you will do whatever I tell you. If you're a good girl and follow my instructions to their fullest, Sunday when your family returns from grandmother's house, you can return to your perfect life, but if you don't, your family...well I think you get the point."

"Don't you fucking dare hurt them!" Debbie screamed.

"Calm down, you have their futures in your hands."

"Please they're all I have," Debbie cried out, as she dropped to her knees again. She babbled incoherently, tears pouring from her eyes, as she struggled to regain her composure. It took over fifteen minutes for Debbie to finally calm down, at least to the point that she could raise the phone to her ear again.

"Well at least you understand the magnitude of the situation, now listen up Debbie," the voice blasted, when she finally did.

As she listened, Debbie tried to dry her eyes with one of her son's T-shirts that he left laying around like he always does, and for once it came in handy.

"Rule number one is simple. I give you an order, you comply, no questions or complaining," the voice barked, as Debbie did her best to follow along. "Rule two, you don't leave the house, in fact you don't leave the first floor, period. Rule number three is don't ever break rule number one or two...Do I make myself clear?"

"Ah hah," Debbie mumbled.

"I'm not convinced Debbie," the voice rattled. "So tell me what the rules are."

"One is to listen to you and follow your orders, and the other one is don't leave the house or the first floor," a perplexed Debbie finally managed after several seconds of thought.

"Very good, Debbie."

"But I have a hair appointment at three," Debbie suddenly remembered.

"I know, but it's simple, call up Daisy and get her to come over your house instead," the voice barked.

"Daisy, how did you know her name?" Debbie mumbled, as her heart sank. "I mean, I don't know if she will?"

"Did we already break rule one Debbie?" The voice hissed.

"No, No," Debbie pleaded. "I was just wondering. I didn't say I wasn't going to try."

"Good now call her, just so you know I can always hear what you are saying, so behave, one wrong word and I disconnect more ways then one," the voice warned, before a dial tone rang in Debbie`s ear.

Debbie just looked at the phone, while trying to gain her strength. Daisy had been her friend for a couple of years, and she always cut Debbie's hair. Debbie's husband liked her hair short and he just loved the blonde spikes, she had done last time. Debbie shook as she thought of her husband. She dialed the phone and held her breath hoping she could talk Daisy into coming over to her house, as she usually cuts it at her own house, so she could also watch her five-year-old son.

Debbie finally got hold of Daisy after two tries, and the two talked for over twenty minutes, as Debbie was doing her best to keep her wits. Even lying about her car being broken down and needing her hair done for an important meeting. Finally she offered to pay double and also offered to pay for Daisy's babysitter. Debbie got a lucky break, when Daisy's next-door neighbor said she would watch Daisy's son, so Daisy finally agreed to meet her at three. Debbie said her goodbyes, and the phone quickly called back.

"Good job Debbie, although you rambled on a bit, eh?" The voice teased, when Debbie answered it. "Now go into the bathroom."

"Bathroom, but ah."

"Debbie, follow directions!" The voice snapped.

"Sorry," Debbie groaned as she rambled, on weak legs, into the bathroom. Her bath was no longer steaming, although Debbie was.

"Now, stand in front of the mirror," the voice commanded.

Debbie's nerves were building quickly, as the mysteriousness of the caller's intentions was chilling in their effects. Debbie stood in front of the full-length mirror that was next to the sink. Debbie used it to check out her outfits, and she had a little stool that she used when she put on her makeup. Debbie almost jumped back when she saw her puffy reflection staring back at her.

"Ok Deb, do your face up," the voice commanded.

"You mean put makeup on?" A confused Debbie mumbled, and it was confirmed.

Debbie sat on the stool, still somewhat confused. She patted her face dry and started to put on her base.

"This is a little hard, I mean holding the phone in all," Debbie mumbled.

"Just do it!" The voice snapped.

"I will, but could I ask something?" Debbie asked cautiously.


"My husband has a speakerphone in his office. There is a phone-jack just outside the bathroom door, and it should reach. Can I get it?" Debbie asked nervously.

"Ok get it, but be quick," the voice boomed.

Debbie scampered into her husband's office, stalling for time as she was searching her brain for answers, to the surreal situation that she now found herself in. She returned to the bathroom with the speakerphone and plugged in the jack; finishing by putting the phone into it.

"You still there?" Debbie asked with a prayer.

"You bet Debbie, now get back to work," the voice boomed, as Debbie cringed. The voice even sounded more evil to Debbie, coming from the speakerphone.

"Please can I ask one more thing?" Debbie mumbled.

"Ok, but last question, so make it good!" The voice barked.

"Do you promise that you won't hurt my family, I mean if I do?"

"Just follow my orders and they'll never even know I'm here," the voice interrupted.

"Promise!" Debbie screamed several times.

"I give you my word," the voice finally bellowed.

Debbie finally sat down on the stool and went back to her makeup and then fixed her hair, while still uneasy as to the voice's intentions. When Debbie announced that she was finished, the voice commanded her to stand up. Debbie moved the stool aside and stood in front of the mirror, her head not moving, but her eyes shifting back and forth.

"Debbie, look into the mirror and tell me what you see," the voice hissed.

Debbie hesitated, a little confused, as she looked around pleadingly.

"Describe yourself," the voice finally barked.

"Ok, this is hard, where to start," Debbie mumbled, while wondering why if the voice could also see her, why would she have to describe herself?

"I'm five, five, around a hundred fifteen pounds. Ah, short brown hair, with blonde highlights, green eyes. Ah is this what you want?" Debbie said while spinning around looking in all directions. She even tried to pry the mirror off the wall, as the voice asked her to continue.

"Ah ok, I'm wearing a robe and slippers," Debbie mumbled.

"I don't like slippers, go to your bedroom and put on some high heels," the voice interrupted. "Be back in 30 seconds this time, now get."

Debbie raced to her bedroom and grabbed her highest heels, a black pair. She hated them as they killed her feet, but she put them on and returned to the bathroom, all while in a state of perplexity.

"Ok I'm back," Debbie said, a little short of breath.

"Yes you are, now what kind of shoes are you wearing?" The voice boomed.

Debbie was again looking at her reflection in the mirror.

"Ah, they're you know high heels, ah red ones," Debbie mumbled.

"Nice I like red ones, like Dorothy," the voice said, followed by a flutter of devilish laughter.

"Yah, just like that," Debbie said, as she breathed a sigh of relief. Debbie slowly sat down on the stool and buried her face into her hands.

"Debbie?" The voice snapped.

"Yah," Debbie answered, almost laughing.

"Stand back up."

"Ah what the fuck!" Debbie screamed, as her relief was short lived. "If you can see me, then how come you didn't know my shoes were black?"

"Just relax Debbie, I don't want to spend another fifteen minutes listening to you cry like a five-year-old," the voice boomed. "I can see you, maybe not as well as I'd like, but never mind that, now touch up your face again."

Debbie looked around again, she figured the voice had to have a camera on her or something, but like the answers she searched for she couldn't find it. She also wondered just how many people were watching her.

"Do it," the voice barked.

Debbie fixed her make up again, and was again standing in front of the mirror.

"Ok, what color lipstick?" The voice boomed

"Ah pink, it`s pink," Debbie said, as she suddenly figured the voice must only be able to see her in black and white, like those cheesy surveillance systems, in convenience stores, at least she hoped.

"You sure this time?" The voice blasted.

"Yah, I'm sorry about that," Debbie offered.

"Put some gloss on them," the voice boomed.

Debbie did so, but was a little puzzled that the voice knew so much about makeup, and cared so much about hers. She also had to put on more dark eyeliner.

"Now what is under that robe?" The voice bellowed, when Debbie announced that she was finished.

"Please, ah I'm sorry I have a black silk nightie on," Debbie said, as she instinctively clutched the front of the robe.

"Nice, ok hang the robe up on the back of the door and stand back in front of the mirror."

"Oh my god," Debbie whispered, as she slowly slid the robe off and hung it up. She repeated her call to the lord, when she was back standing in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection, dressed in her black nightie and high heels, her newly painted face making the sexy look complete.

"Slowly turn around," the voice bellowed.

Debbie was frantic. "How dare someone invade her home and now treat her like this?" She kept saying to herself. Only the thought of her family was giving her the strength to comply, as Debbie did a slow full circle.

"Ok lean forward, hands on your knees; you're doing good Debbie," the voice teased.

Debbie didn't know about that, she felt so pathetic, for playing along with the voice's game, like some sick version of Simon-Says. She didn't feel any better when she had to turn around and assume the same hands and knees pose, as she cursed herself for the lack of underwear.

"Ok Debbie turn around and stand back up," the voice ordered. "Now slide the straps off your shoulders."

"Please Sir, I'm naked underneath," Debbie embarrassingly moaned.

"Don't you usually bath nude?" The voice asked.

"I guess so," Debbie mumbled, as she realized she was going to take her bath after all, only not a private one.

"C'mon Debbie," the voice barked. "Follow orders or else."

Debbie watched her reflection, as it almost felt like she was watching someone else. This just couldn't be happing to her, she kept thinking. She moved her trembling hand up to her shoulder, slowly sliding the strap down her arm. She let out a small gasp when the pinkness of her nipple made its first appearance in the mirror. After several deep breaths, she slid the other strap off her shoulder and her nightie fell down over her breasts, before quickly sliding down her body, gathering at her ankle, as Debbie immediately used her hands and arms to cover her nakedness.

"Hang it up on top of the robe, and then back," the voice boomed.

Debbie quickly complied and was back in her defensive pose.

"Now Debbie, I want you to describe yourself," the voice ordered.

"I thought I already."

"Your body, describe your body!" The voice impatiently interrupted.

"Please this is so strange." Debbie pleaded.

"Don't forget rule one Debbie, and put your hands down by your side!" The voice bellowed. "Do not hide your nakedness from me!"

"I'm sorry, but really."

"No buts; do it!" The voice shot out.

"I'll try," Debbie moaned, as she struggled to keep her composer as her hands slipped off her body and clung to her sides. Debbie stared at her naked reflection as she searched for the right words. "I guess I have medium sized breasts, and a flat stomach and my legs might be a little on the muscular side, and ugly feet."

"Satisfactory, but I will help you out. What are your measurements?" The voice asked.

"Measurements?" Debbie groaned at the request. "Ah last I checked, they were 34-23-34."

"And what cup size are you?" The voice asked.

"Ah a C," Debbie mumbled, as she kind of had a feeling it was coming next.

"How about your nipples?" The voice asked.

Debbie instinctively reacted to the question by quickly putting her hands up to her chest.

"Please this is embarrassing," Debbie mumbled.

"Describe them now!" The voice boomed out.

"Ok, Ok, they're a little on the puffy side, pink I guess, they don`t get much sun," Debbie finally mumbled, as her hands slid to her sides again.

"I see that," the voice barked, and it again reminded Debbie that the voice could also see her nakedness. "Now turn around, you never said anything about your ass."

"What about it?" Debbie snapped.

"Don't snap at me girl, from now on, no flip remarks and no crying. You're starting to piss me off. Look this is going to happen the way I want it to, whether you like it or not!" The voice said, shaking the speakerphone.

Debbie jumped back, she was getting ready to grab her robe and get out of there.

"Ah, we finally made it to grandma's house," the voice bellowed, as Debbie's heart immediately sunk.

"The little one ran into Granny's house. I think someone has to pee," the voice teased.

"Please leave them alone!" Debbie cried out, as she fell to her knees.

"I'm going to, if you start acting a little better, and not like a crybaby," the voice said.

"I'm sorry really, but it's just this, well it's so humiliating." Debbie said, as tears dripped from her eyes. "I mean, I'm naked!"

"Just shut up, and get in the tub," the voice hissed.

Debbie kicked off her heels, annoyed. She hated to be told to shut up period, but in her own house, naked, while someone or something watched her, and watched her family, it was almost too much to take. Her blood was boiling when her foot hit the cold water. She tried to hide the fact that the water was now cold, as she sat down in the water, thankful to have the soapy waters camouflage, if only temporarily.

As she soaked she could here background music coming from the speakerphone. She closed her eyes as she racked her brain for a way out of this predicament. Maybe she could slip a note to Daisy when she came over later, or whisper something into her ear. She had to think of something. She closed her eyes and searched.

"Ok, stand up in the center of the tub," the voice barked, a short time later, causing Debbie to flinch.

Debbie slowly rose from the now icy water. She instinctively covered her now rock hard nipples with her hands again, as the water dripped from her glistening body.

"Ok now wash yourself," the voice ordered, just as Debbie was about to step out of the tub.

Debbie gasped at the request. Shaking her head in disgust, she leaned over to pick up the wash cloth.

"No cloth, just hands and soap," the voice snapped. Causing Debbie to jump again, that violated feeling running through her body again, as she realized just how good the voice could see her, even in the tub.

She poured some liquid soap on her shoulders, quickly rubbing it into her arms and over her stomach. Working quickly, she splashed some water over her body and announced she was done.

"Debbie I'm disappointed, we must do better than that. Pick up the soap and poor some over your front," the voice hissed.

"Please it's cold," Debbie moaned, but she quickly picked up the soap, squirting some over her breasts and stomach.

"Turn and face the mirror and watch yourself wash," the voice ordered.

Debbie turned, but couldn't bear to watch, as she ran her hands back and forth over her breasts and stomach, which quickly became soap covered. Debbie leaned forward and washed one leg and then the next. Soap covered, she stood up and waited for the next instruction.

"Rinse," the voice said after several lingering seconds.

Debbie did so, glad that this part was over, plus the water was freezing now. Her body covered in goose bumps. Her nipples so hard they were almost painful. Debbie finished rinsing, and began to step out of the tub.

"Now, now Debbie, just one more thing to clean, or two," the voice barked.

"Please, this is too much!" Debbie cried out.

"Put your left foot on the edge of the tub and wash between your legs," the voice boomed.

"You can't be serious?" Debbie gasped. "Please I'm freezing."

Debbie's stomach fluttered, it felt like she was going to be ill from the butterflies swirling. She pleaded with the voice for mercy, but they went unanswered. Finally with tears streaming down her face, she poured some soap over her neatly trim pubic mound and began to work it in, before running a hand in-between her legs. She tried to put it out of her head what it must look like, as she washed her pussy, her hand moving back and forth, until she was told to turn around.

"Just one more thing, wash your ass cheeks and anus. We must keep clean," the voice said, almost sounding playful.

Debbie hung her head, as she turned around and applied some soap to her ass cheeks, working it in using both hands, and with one finally burst of courage she ran her finger in-between her ass cheeks and rubbed her anus, thus completing the humiliating act. Finally when she couldn't take it anymore, she sat down in the water to rinse. She sat in the frigid water for several minutes trying to regain her composure.

"Ok Debbie, get out and dry," the voice said, breaking the silence.

Debbie was happy to get out of the cold water, but not happy to lose the water's shelter. She also shook from the fear of the voice's intentions. She almost instinctively knew that her humiliation had only begun, if she didn't find a way out of her predicament. Debbie quickly wrapped herself with a towel and used another one to dry her arms and legs.

"Ok Debbie, now hang the towels back up on the rack, and stand in front of the mirror," the voice barked.

"Again with that fucking mirror!" Debbie wanted to scream, but she bit her tongue. She did make herself a promise right then that when this was over she was going to smash the fucking mirror to pieces.

"You must have some body lotion to rub in, have to keep that skin soft," the voice teased.

Debbie let out a moan, as she knew that soon she would be rubbing lotion into her skin, and it was also slowly sinking in as to the nature of the acts that she was going to be asked to perform. She reluctantly did as she was told, not even surprised when the voice had her rub extra lotion into her breasts. Soon her body was basking in a shinny glow.

"Grab some shaving gel and your razor," the voice boomed.

"Oh great, now I have to shave my legs in front of the mirror as well." Debbie thought, as she opened the medicine cabinet.

"Ok Debbie, now lift your right knee up onto the sink and shave around that sweet little pussy of yours," the voice ordered.

"C'mon what the...Who is this?" Debbie cried out.

"Debbie, do you want to take a chance?"

"Take a chance?" Debbie quickly moaned.

"Yah, take a chance and disobey me," the voice shot.

"This is just ridiculous! Why do I have to shave down there?" Debbie moaned. "And it's itchy when it grows back."

"I'm waiting Debbie," the voice snapped.

Debbie looked at her reflection in the mirror, as if she was asking her reflection for answers. She looked down at her pubic hair and placed her knee on the sink, it was more than a little uncomfortable for Debbie, the position and the situation. She quickly spread some gel around her pussy and through blurry eyes, grabbed the razor and began shaving. It wasn't the first time she had done this. She use to do it when she first met her husband, but stopped after they were married, and were going to have kids, as she didn't want her doctor to think she was dirty, at least that was her excuse.

Debbie worked quickly. She used a face cloth to wash the remaining gel off, when she was finished. She quickly pulled her knee down off the sink and announced she was finished.

"Now that wasn't so bad, check it out," the voice bellowed.

"What?" Debbie moaned.

"Stand straight and spread them legs apart!" The voice shot.

"Ok, Ok, I can see it, it's not that bad," Debbie moaned, but she cringed inside, as now she could see her rather prominent pussy lips, hanging ever so slightly from her body, reminding her of the real reason she didn't shave down there anymore.

"No, I meant check it out with your fingers," the voice barked.

Debbie threw her hands to her hips and then with disgust spread her legs back apart, but not after several minutes of stalling. With a clenched jaw, she ran a hand down her stomach and slid it between her spread legs, running it over her pussy lips. She pledged to fight off any pleasure from this act, as she felt around her hairless pussy, purposely avoiding her sensitive clitoris. She did this for several minutes, fighting to remain emotionless.

"This is sick, you know that?" Debbie finally cried out.

"Ok I can see this isn't your thing, so let's get you dressed," the voice boomed and Debbie felt somewhat relieved, as she washed her hands.

Debbie picked up the phone and went down the hall to her bedroom. She was relieved to be somewhat covered when she returned some twenty minutes later, to the dreaded bathroom mirror.

She looked at her reflection; almost glad that she wasn't leaving the house, because all her outfit consisted of was a small white tennis skirt, and a purple silk half shirt, with spaghetti straps that she usually only wore under reveling dresses. The outfit was topped off with her black pumps. All articles of clothing had to be approved by the voice, as Debbie had to change in and out of several outfits, before settling on this one.

"I think you're ready now Debbie!" The voice boomed.

Debbie just shook her head. She still couldn't imagine what the voice had in store for her, or if she could take anymore of this.

The End of Chapter 1.

Thanks for your time.
Just what does the voice have in store for Debbie?

There are two more chapters to this story.
Ch. 2 "Following Orders"
Ch. 3 "The Final Task"

Please send me your comments.