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The Phone Call

The Phone Call by Lizbeth Dusseau

Excerpt from The Scandalous Demise of Lily Lake (c) 2006, all rights reserved

When Lily sank her hands into the loamy garden dirt, she felt the earth come up to greet her, drawing her in to its steady vibration and giving her a sense of peace she rarely felt now. Gardening was her one solace, and it might have soothed her into a peaceful evening had she not felt the need to bring along the phone—in case Patrick called from Tokyo. She’d missed two of his calls in the last week and refused to miss another one. But she unwisely forgot that there might be other callers who could disturb the calm now washing through her like a miracle tonic.

The phone did ring, jarring her bones with the clattering sound—right in the midst of planting zinnias. She trembled with uncertainty hoping to connect with a husband who had been all too distant in the last few months. She wanted, needed, to reconnect with him. But it was not Patrick’s voice on the other end, but the caller who she least wanted to hear from.

“Tonight, Ms. Lake.” His firm tone was unmistakable. Strange how that boyish voice could penetrate her with such intensity that it dampened her panties with wet desire.

She gasped miserably—perhaps he didn’t hear that. “Oh no, please, not tonight.” Her heart bled miserably and her body clenched up cold as stone.

“Tonight, seven o’clock,” he came right back in the same even tone, then the phone clicked off.

 

Two hours later, she stood at the doorway of a dimly lit living room wearing the hooded, latex cat-suit the boy had bought for her months before. A plain UPS package had arrived with all that daring sensuous black, clinging to white tissue paper stuffed inside the box. She couldn’t touch the latex without trembling, without feeling a shiver of fear overtake all her senses. She’d breathed in her fear, almost colliding with the sofa, suddenly dizzy and disoriented realizing what was meant by the gift.

Now, having poured herself into the latex once again, it settled all too comfortably against her skin. A tight hood covered her face, and the boy—she called him a boy, though he was certainly very much a man at twenty-two—was there with her, at her side, whispering in her ear, close, so very close.

“You’re one sexy broad, Ms. Lake,” he purred. There was a smirk in his voice, if not on his lips.

“It’s demeaning,” she returned.

“But you’re perfectly hidden, perfectly masked.” He traced a line down her spine. “You know these people?”

“Some.”
“I thought so, right in your own neighborhood.”

“I wish I could leave.” The catsuit was crotchless front and back, and there were cutouts for her breasts that made them stick out absurdly. The hood had four holes: one for her mouth, one for her nose, none for her ears and two for her eyes. She hated the way it made her look.

“But don’t you like taking chances? Doesn’t it turn you on?” After the hand on her ass dropped between her legs, his fingers digging deeper, wiggling like little fishes against the hot, wet flesh, he offered this: “You’re juicy.”

“I know I am,” she said.

She felt the orgasm on her already, and she was just standing in the doorway. They hadn’t even officially arrived. The people in front of her were no more than a blur, as the hood caused her vision to alter in imperceptible ways and she knew that she wasn’t seeing things right, not exactly as they were meant to be seen. The hood and the oppressively heating latex made her go deep inside herself.

The boy withdrew his hand and pushed her forward into the crowd of distorted faces. Their  misshapen bodies parted on her approach, surrounding the evening’s subject with eager appetites. Her arms were lifted high above her head and secured with chains that fit into the shiny high-tech cuffs that circled her wrists. The rivets and bolts gleamed like sterling silver.

Her body had been broken down to its pertinent body parts where the skintight latex didn’t cover her real flesh; her breasts, her ass and her bared pussy with not a single silky hair remaining, gleamed white against the black backdrop. Her ass protruded from behind like two porcelain globes, shining brilliantly, screaming invitations to the crowd, ‘Beat me! Make me hot and red and welted!’ Her upper back was exposed too, although the punishment it would take would be insignificant compared to the punishment her ass and breasts and crotch would suffer.

The chains above her clanked when she shifted her weight. Then the real hurt began as little whips and crops and canes etched a painting of woeful hurt into the unblemished skin. She yelped under her breath and began to whimper like a mad dog, twisting, jerking, frenetic and uncontrolled.

Meanwhile, the boy watched from the sidelines, thinking of Ms. Lake trying so hard to be prim when she was teaching him English eight years prior, at that stuffy Northeastern boarding school. ‘Little teacher’ they all called her because they were young and she was pretty, modest and vulnerable. Boys are cruel in their teens…but just dreamers with unformed ideas of sex. Sex took strange and perverse permutations in their minds. But now at twenty-two those adolescent daydreams were being made real. Thank God for the Internet that took away the shame in perversity, that freed the mind to ride the dark absurdities like this. Pandora’s Box was never as open as now. He thought all this while watching Ms. Lake dancing with her exposed white flesh turning flaming shades of scarlet before his eyes.

The action got a little rougher when someone screwed alligator clamps on her protruding purplish nipples. He watched as every muscle in her delirious frame clenched up taut and steely as a tuned piano string.

She feigned a scream, opening her mouth, stretching the latex that framed it, though not a sound issued forth for all the effort.

“She’s sopping,” a voice chimed in, while its owner’s hand was in her crotch, fondling her to another peak of pained pleasure.

The invading digits felt slick and cool in contrast to her hot and throbbing cunt, and even beyond her latex-covered ears, she could hear the sound of her sloshing, sucking pussy juices. The burning feeling at the opening of her vagina soon became intense, as the hand forced its way deeper, demanding she open wider. She’d heard of this before, fisting; but didn’t think that shoving it into her hole from below was the right way to do it. Not by the book, according to Hoyle, or what was safe and sane. Even so, she wriggled involuntarily on that heated hand, which like the blade of a knife cut deeply into her body in an attempt to carve out more space than her pussy had to offer anything so large.

“I can’t!” she wanted to scream, but she had no voice; all the sound was trapped inside her throat. The fist plunged in all the way, doing what at first seemed impossible with guileless ease. The anonymous invader had a small hand capable of making the impossible possible.

So tight, so goddam tight! The world around her spun like a top and she was weeping, shamed and glorified by the inner image of herself. Her need to come grew stronger with every thrust of the impaling hand. While being fisted, she was still being whipped with erratic, blistering blows, until everyone could hear her garbled hiss and see her body shudder, her back arching as her muscles strained.

The blows from the sadists’ weapons, and the thrusts of the impaler’s hand went on for several more minutes until she was wasted, flopping around like a ragdoll and moaning with discontent.

A quiet moment followed as all parties withdrew from her, as weapons were put away, and the hand inside her slurped from her dripping pussy hole and left her gaping.

The boy on the sidelines sauntered forward, putting his hand on her roughed up ass, and asked in a terse whisper right where her ears were covered by the hood, “You come?”

She wasn’t ready to talk at first. Instead, her head fell to his shoulder seeking approval – or affection.

“Say it!” came out as a rebuke and she shot up straight as an arrow.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes… well, then thank me, bitch. This is a rare treat.” He wanted to say ‘teacher’ but he promised. Not in public.

“Thank you, sir, for allowing me to come.”

“Louder!” and he cracked his hand against her ass.

“Thank you, sir, for allowing me to come!” she tried a little harder.

“Can you hear her?” he asked the crowd.

A murmur of no’s swept through the room.

“Again,” and again he cracked his hand against her bare ass.

“Thank you, sir, for allowing me to come!” This time her voice rose up clearly, and he finally backed away.

The chains that tethered her to the ceiling were unhooked and she tumbled to the floor with her flaming ass raised high.

“Around the room!” he ordered her like a dog, sending her on to lap seven dicks and one wet pussy.

She worked her way on hands and knees, closing off all conscious thought in order to fend off the barbs and the humiliation that was heaped on her. Dicks plunged into the mouth hole of the latex hood, just another body part, a receptacle for sexual use. Nothing more.

 

Ab

 

He insisted on following her inside her house, where Lily tore at the latex as soon as she was inside the front door. The lights were still off, while the hazy glow from the yard lights turned everything a grainy black and white. She tore back the hood and tugged the latex off her shoulders, down her torso, peeling the catsuit away from her sweaty skin, hating every moment of it, even as her condemning juices trickled down her thighs.

“No, Andrew! It’s not ever going to happen again. Never!” She shook out her brown hair vehemently.

His big collegiate, frat-boy grin beamed back at her from the charming boyish face.

“Sure, it will. Next time I ring your number.”
“No, Andrew, no! This is the last time.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Why, teach? When you’re enjoying it so much?”

The taste of his prick and his copious cum still soured her mouth, and she could smell on her face the remnants he left when, while they were driving home, he insisted she go down on him. She finished the blowjob just as they pulled into her driveway.

“I don’t want to enjoy that anymore. I don’t like myself anymore. I just can’t.”

“Oh, you say that now.” He stroked her hair over and over, his fingers as electric as ever, sparking little twinges of orgasm, making her pussy ache for him inside the pulsing channel. “But there’s always tomorrow and next week and the week after that.”

“I mean it, Andrew. I do.”

He saw from the glare in her eyes that she was serious, and his face turned cold, his charm vanished, and his features hardened into the chiseled beauty of a cruel and wintry landscape.

“You’ll do as you’re told, Ms. Lake,” he said, evenly, while he clenched his fist inside her hair. His voice cut, as he emphasized every syllable and his ‘s’ hissed snakelike.

“No, please…” she shook her head as she backed away from him. “I can’t. I can’t anymore. I’m so ashamed.”

“Then live with it. You fight me? I will expose your terrible secrets to the world.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Just imagine the newspaper stories…” he strolled away, casually stuffing his hands inside his pockets, then turned back, “… how about it? English teacher, socialite, gossip columnist, the beautiful wife of Patrick Thornton-Wynn, caught screwing the Blaisedale Country Club perverts. Sounds like a story to me.”

“Andrew, you wouldn’t dare. You couldn’t—”

“Don’t try me.”

“Andrew, please, can’t this be enough?”

He raised his pretty frat-boy brows and smirked. “No, Ms. Lake, it’s not enough for me.”

“But you wouldn’t tell any one …” She cocked her head, sweetly now.

“What do you think, huh? Wouldn’t the rag sheets have the scoop to die for? I wonder how much they’d pay.” He shook his head as the pleasant vision filled his thoughts. “How could I possibly pass up the opportunity? I mean if you keep being my bitch, teach…Ms. fuckin’ Lily Lake, well, that’s something else.” Casting her one last lurid smile, he shrugged her off and sauntered toward the door, while she stood naked in her living room and watched him leave.

The Virgin of Greenbrier by Victoria Morris Excerpt

The Virgin of Greenbrier by Victoria Morris

Paperback & Ebook

“Time to rise and shine, sleepy head.” Lucretia did not stir from under the warm blanket. With a firm tug he yanked that comfort away, “Lucy!”

“Leave me be,” she muttered, reaching down with one hand, trying to find the blanket that wasn’t there.

“Lucretia!”

She shot wide awake, obviously stunned at where she still found herself to be. How she must loathe him, but he was used to it. “No, I won’t. Go away!” she protested. He was used to that, too.

Dr. Addams’ hand was around her bare ankle as he dragged her off the mattress. Lucy reached out just in time to take hold of the doorframe. The doctor pulled harder before landing a sharp slap onto Lucretia’s bare bottom. Her grip on the woodwork instantly released. He snatched both her ankles and pulled her into the center of the main bedroom. “What time is it, little girl?”

“How should I know?” Lucretia yanked at her legs.

His hold was firm. “No, it’s time to get up because your Master says so.” He reached down too fast for Lucretia to stop him and placed another sound slap to her bare ass. “What time is it, Lucy?”

“Stop it!  You are not my Master and I am not your slave!” She kicked and twisted more.

Dr. Addams yanked her roughly to her feet and stared her straight in the eyes. “Yes, I am, and yes, you are.” He did not flinch. The fingers of both his hands pressed into the soft flesh of her arms.

“No, I am not!” Her eyes narrowed as if daring him to strike her.

“You are acting like the spoiled little girl your father told me you were.” In some strange way he was rather enjoying her protests, childish or not. She would be a challenge and it had been too long since he had trained anyone with as much self-righteous pride as Lucretia. She was used to being mistress in her own home. Now, she was suddenly on the other side and not at all willing to give up her dominant role in society so easily. He almost kissed her right then and there. Her expression could not have been more willful. “Do you know what we do with naughty, spoiled little girls here?”

Now she looked disgusted as well as furious. “No, and I do not care to know. You people sicken me. Release me this instant!”

His grip on her arms tightened, and he knew he must be hurting her, but she was too stubborn to show it. “Where will you go? Home? Your home is here now, at Greenbrier. Your father has sold you to me and will return you to me should you appear on his doorstep before I have freed you, if I decide to free you at all. You have no place to run to, Lucy. If you run, you could end up in worse hands than mine for I will report you as a runaway slave and trust me, you don’t want to end up in the hands of some Slaver. Granted, you are pale as can be, but you’d not be the first slave to pass as white, would you? My Cassandra could almost pass for white.”

Her jaw was firm and red blotches formed on her cheeks. “Let me go.” The words were tight in her throat.

“No.” He was a good nine inches taller than her and considerably stronger. In seconds, she was lifted from the floor and carried to the nearest chair. There Dr. Addams pulled her over his lap and held her down. “In this house respectable ladies who act like spoiled little girls are spanked.” With his left forearm across her shoulder blades, Dr. Addams made sure Lucretia could not move. His right hand immediately went to work on her bottom. First one cheek was spanked then the other. There was no mercy to be had at this point. The harder she fought, the harder the blows landed. Though she had given up trying to actually hit him herself, she now put all her efforts into escape.

“Lay still and obey and this will end,” he told her over her growls and screams.

“Let me go, you bastard! Let me go!  Let me go!”

“Not a very nice thing to call your Master, is it?” The spanking continued until Lucy’s bottom went beyond pink to a deep rosy red. “Tell your Master what a good girl you will be and maybe he will stop spanking you.” He paused, running the palm of his hand in smooth circles over her warm skin. “Unless, of course, you don’t want me to stop the spanking. Unless, of course, you like it.”

She screamed and her thrashing intensified. “I hate you!  I hate you!”

Dr. Addams’ hand continued its work. The fingers of his left wound up through Lucretia’s hair, tugging at it just a bit and holding her in place. He could see the tears starting to run down her face. He’d struck a chord. He leaned over closer to her ear. “Tell me, do you like it?”

Lucretia’s physical strength was draining fast, “No!”

“If that is true then ask your Master to stop doing it.” Her bottom was glowing under his hand. “Either tell your Master you like it or ask him to please stop.” Lucretia’s body shook with emotion. “Which will it be? We can spend all day like this if we have to. I see a nice wooden paddle in reach when my hand gets tired, so you may as well do as I tell you. You are doing this all to yourself, little one.”

“Stop calling me that,” Lucy’s voice trembled. Six more strikes hit her ass, twice as hard as all the others before.

He saw her bite her bottom lip to prevent herself from crying out. “I know. I can check for myself to see if you like it.” As he pressed his fingers between her legs and played with her tenderness, utter horror filled her eyes along with something else. As much as her mind must be telling her to pull away, her body was responding otherwise. “Any idea how hot and wet you are, little one? I think she likes being spanked, doesn’t she?”

Her body tightened like a spring then suddenly released in a violent fit of protest as Lucretia tried to squirm away. Dr. Addams stood and dumped her without dignity to the floor. Well-trained himself, the doctor made his expression a cold, emotionless mask. Lucretia glared up at him. “I said don’t call me that. I’m not a little girl.”

He sighed with disappointment and turned away. When she squeaked he knew he had her exactly where he wanted her. “I had hoped,” he began, slowly turning to face her, “that we could have had a nice day together. Instead, I find myself considering putting you at the bottom of the stairs again. Better yet, I see you out in the courtyard. It’s a lovely day. Everyone is sure to see you there. What do you think now?”

Her face tightened. She blinked. Her nostrils flared, but her bottom lip quivered. The doctor grinned at the sprawled, naked helplessness on the floor at his feet. Her butt could not possibly be any redder and what could she do about it? He knew the more she fought this place, the worse it would become for her. Lucretia looked down at the floor.

“No thoughts? Ah well, I’ll decide then.” Dr. Addams retrieved the familiar iron shackles. “Let’s go to the courtyard.”

“No…” Lucretia started to say.

“No?”

Her whole body shook. “No, I mean … no, please, I…” She was going to do it, he realized. “Please, Sir … I’ll be…good… I…” Her eyes narrowed, barely looking at him before the lids dropped down once more. “I’ll be good, Master.” She spat the last word out with utter disgust.

“Much better.”  The shackles were put away and then his hand reached down to help her to her feet. With reluctance, she took it. “See how much nicer I can be when you simply obey?” He didn’t mind when she gave him no answer. She’d taken a major step by calling him Master and for now that was enough. “We’ll eat breakfast then take you to see Thomas, the blacksmith.”

Lucy snatched her hand from his, “Blacksmith?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen the collars and cuffs the others wear. Who else will fit you for your very own set?” The doctor chuckled. “Come with me. Breakfast is ready.”

A Wild Ride by Patrick Richards Excerpt

A Wild Ride by Patrick Richards

Paperback & Ebook

My iPod was playing in the background, as I surfed the net.  I had been checking out a few porn sites and came across one dedicated entirely to Femdom stories, videos and pictures.  They peaked my interest a little.  No, actually they excited me quite a lot.  By the time I finished reading one about a young college guy who was tightly strapped over a bondage horse and having his ass brutally whipped, my cock was as hard as a fireplace poker and steadily dripped drops of per-cum.  I read on, as he endured a savage beating from a beautiful woman clad in sexy black leather lingerie.

I pushed my jeans and underwear down to my knees and stroked my dick while I continued with the story.  She used a long, thick leather strap to redden his ass and leave dozens of dark purple welts crisscrossing his butt.  He screamed and yelled from the intense pain, but his cock was as hard as mine.  As the intense whipping continued, he fought and struggled against his bonds, trying to escape the agonizing pain, yet wanting more.  I imagined that it was me who was locked helplessly over that padded bench.  I wanted to feel every stroke of her whip across my ass.  I would have changed places with that guy in a heartbeat.  My hand rubbed harder and faster, as the tawse painfully bruised and blistered his tender flesh over and over again.  As his Mistress finished his brutal torture, my balls rumbled and roared, releasing their load.  Gobs of steaming sperm shot from my hard cock.  Long ribbons of creamy cum streamed from my long, throbbing shaft.  The immense pleasure of my orgasm raged through me.  It was far more intense than ever before.  At that moment a profound lust for sexual pain and submission was permanently etched within my brain. I finally leaned back in my chair and caught my breath.

“Holy shit… I wonder where I can find a woman like that,” I asked myself.

After putting that story site into my favorites, I came across some pictures of a beautiful dominatrix who was looking for a slave to serve her.  She wore a black leather bra and a tiny little thong.  Her fishnet stockings were held up by a matching garter belt, and she wore really tall, stiletto-heeled boots.  In her gloved hands was a cat o’ nine tails with vicious looking knots along each of its long, braided strands.

I eagerly studied every inch of that picture over and over.  My God, she was magnificent. Finally I printed it out and hung it on the wall next to my bed.  She was my Goddess.  I was in love.  Something came alive in me that night.  I reread that story dozens of times and went to bed every night mesmerized by the picture of my perfect Mistress.  I fantasized about being totally naked at her feet and feeling the agonizing, but pleasurable pain of her whip.  I jerked off to her image and longed for what she had to offer.  I wanted her.  I dreamed of serving her.  I would be her slave forever.

Hour after hour and day after day I read those stories and was drawn in ever deeper.  I couldn’t get those thoughts and desires out of my mind.  God, it seemed like I was living with a perpetual hard-on.  Even dreams at night contained scenes of bondage and torture, and yet I wanted more.

Those thoughts filled my life, but it was going nowhere fast.  Mornings were no better than my evenings.  I had flunked out of college and was renting an older, furnished studio apartment by the month in downtown Albany.  It wasn’t much, but it would do.  I didn’t have a job, but I was eagerly looking for one.  There was enough money left from my college loans to last for a few months if I was careful.

Every day I picked up the previous day’s newspaper from the convenience store down the street.  The manager there saved it for me, so I could check the classifieds and look for a job.   He told me he would give me some part time work as soon as a spot opened up.

During the day I went from store to store looking for work.  I went to job fairs but never seemed to get a call.  I remember someone once said that you should spend as much time looking for a job as you would working at one.  I did.  Looking for something was my job every day.  After all, there was no way I wanted to go home and live off my parents.   I couldn’t anyway.  We didn’t get along and hadn’t spoken in months.  It was constant.  I filled out applications and checked on them every few days.  I couldn’t understand it.  Nothing seemed to work.  I realized I had no experience and couldn’t even put together a decent resume.  I was going nowhere fast.

I got some part time work at the McDonalds down the street.  The manager knew I needed the job and didn’t have any money, so he let me eat some of the stuff that had been sitting around too long.  They were going to throw it out anyway.  Sometimes I ate well, and other times it was a little slim.

Nights I stayed home and read on my laptop.  I didn’t have the money to do anything else.  Luckily I was able to get free Wi-Fi from someone in the building.

One night an older woman, who lived on the first floor, stopped me when I came in.  She needed some help.  She had dropped some clothes over the back of her washer and couldn’t get them out.  Of course I helped her, and she treated me to some homemade chocolate chip cookies and milk.  As I ate, she noticed that my clothes were a little dirty and suggested I bring them down so she could wash them for me.  I didn’t want to put her out, but she insisted.  She knew I was desperate.  I went upstairs and got them, and she put in my light colors.  We talked for a while, as I emptied the plate of cookies.  I was hungry, and I guess she was lonely.  The first load was finished, so she threw my darks into the washer.  It was a rather pleasant evening, and I had clean clothes without having to go to the laundromat.  That costs a lot on money.  A few days later I put on a clean pair of jeans and found a twenty dollar bill neatly tucked in the pocket.  I knew where it came from.  Mrs. Hansen became my guardian angel.

One afternoon I asked a cute little blond who worked at McDonalds with me if she wanted to go to the movies.  I told her it wasn’t really a date, because I could only afford the movie.  She laughed at me and walked away.  That night I sat at my computer, read some more stories and later jerked off.

That month my cell phone was turned off and things just got worse.  Now they couldn’t even call me for an interview.  Finally Bob at the convenience store had me work on Saturday nights from four to eleven.  It wasn’t much, but it helped.

There was a small television running in the office at the Stewart’s Shop.  Between customers I saw a small segment here and there.  I caught just the last bit of some controversy about people who advertise in the personal section on Craig’s List.  I went back to the register and sold a guy a pack of Marlboros.  He looked eighteen.  Hell, he looked thirty, so I didn’t bother to check his age.  Someone in the main office just happened to see me not check his ID on their surveillance camera.  I lost my job over that one the next day.  Bob was unhappy about it, but he didn’t have a choice.  I wasn’t mad.  It was my own damn fault.

A couple of nights later I decided to see what all the excitement was on Craig’s List.  I clicked on the Personal Ads for Albany, NY.

There were dozens of ads for men looking for women, but very few where women were searching for a guy.  Actually most of them were guys looking for guys.  Then a different ad seemed to jump right out and grab me.

“Woman seeks young submissive male for fun with ropes, whips and paddles.  I’m in my early 30’s – tall and slender and love to show off my sexy body in leather lingerie.  No long term commitments, just an evening of exploring your limits.  Call me at 518 four five five 6170.  No $.  Let’s talk.”

I read it over several times and looked at the picture that I had previously hung on my wall.  Then I reached down and adjusted my jeans, as my cock began to grow.

“Fuck!  I wish my phone worked.”

After writing down the number, I went back to reading stories and looking at pictures.  I suddenly looked at the clock.  It was 9:15.  I had time.  It only took me about ten minutes to walk to the convenience store.  I figured I could borrow a phone for a couple of minutes if Jeff was working.

I smiled as I walked in, because he was there.

“Hey Jeff, can I use your cell phone for a minute?  Mine got shut off.”

“Sure bud.”

“Mind if I use it outside?”

“No, go ahead.”

I stepped outside and pushed the number.  On the third ring she answered.

“Ah… ah… I just read your personal ad on Craig’s List.”

“Yes, are you interested?” she said in a real sexy voice.

“I think so.”

“You call me about being tied up and whipped, and you only think so?  How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“So what makes you think you can handle this kind of stuff?  Do you like pain?”

“I’m not sure, but when I read stories about kneeling at a woman’s feet and being brutally whipped, I get… ah… ah… I get really hard.”

She laughed.

“Why not get a girlfriend and try some normal sex or just jerk off, if you’re that horny?”

“I have, but that’s not what I want.  I need something else.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to… ah….  Look.  I’m on a buddy’s cell phone.  Mine was shut off.  I flunked out of college and rent a small studio apartment off Henry Street.  Can I email you or talk to you on webcam?”

“Sure.  What’s your first name?”

“Nick.”

“Do you have Skype?”

We exchange information.  She said we’d talk around ten thirty.

I gave Jeff back his phone and thanked him.

“You get a job?” he asked.

“No… better.”

Later I was in my meager, one room place when my computer beeped and started doing its thing.  Suddenly she was there.  I was mesmerized, as I saw her.  She was beautiful.  I could see her full breasts and her long blond hair.  Yea, I’m a normal, well almost a normal male….  I noticed her round, full, upturned breasts before anything else.

“Wow,” she said.  “I don’t know why you aren’t out fucking some hot young babe tonight instead of waiting for me.”

“Thank you, Mistress, but you have something to offer that those young girls don’t have.”

“What’s that?”

“Ah… whips and ropes and that kind of stuff.”

She chuckled.  “Are you ready for what I have waiting for you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Have you ever had a whip laid across your ass and felt that kind of pain?”

“No, but if you do it, I will gladly accept it.”

She laughed.  “Once I start, there will be no escape.”

“I know.  That’s the way I want it.”

“You’ve probably heard the expression, ‘Be careful what you wish for.’ I think Eminem and maybe even Daughtry did a song with those lyrics.  They sang, ‘Be careful what you wish for – ‘cause you might get it all.’  Are you ready for all of it?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Remember, there is always the possibility of unforeseen and unpleasant consequences.  Are you ready for those as well?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Let me warn you one more time – be careful what you wish for.”

“I will Mistress.”

“Then tell me everything that I should know about you.”

“Well, I’m 19 years old and have no future.  I drank, drugged and screwed my way out of college.”

“No future?  Everyone has a future.  You just don’t know what it is yet.”

“Yea… well things aren’t going too well for me right now.  I can’t find a job, and I’ve pretty much exhausted any money I have.”

“Things could always be worse?” she reminded me.

“I doubt it.”

“Well in spite of all that – describe yourself physically for me.”

“Ah… well I’ve got dirty blond hair and dark green eyes as you can see.  I’m five foot ten and weigh about 150 pounds.  I have always worked out, so I’m in really good shape, and I have a… ah… ah…,” I explained as I looked down.

“Go ahead.  How big is it?”

“About eight inches.”

“Nice.  What about family?”

“We don’t get along.  I don’t speak to them and haven’t in several months.  They have no idea where I am or what I’m doing, and they don’t care.  Personally I don’t either.  My mother’s too busy with her new boyfriend to even return my calls.  She’s probably afraid I’ll ask her for money or something.”

“That’ll change some day.”

“Maybe, but I rather doubt it.”

“What about your dad?”

“I haven’t heard from him in six or seven years.  He’s somewhere down south I think.  Ran off with some young chick he’d been screwing.”

“Look, this is Wednesday.  Come by Friday night at seven.  I’d like to meet you and maybe play a little to see if this is what you really want to do.  Let’s call it a trial run.”

“God, that’s great.  Where do you want to meet?”

“Do you know where the Spectrum 8 Theater is on Delaware Street near the Medical Center?”

“Yes.”

“Just a block from there is Hulbert Avenue.  I run Rare Dragon Antiques just three stores up from the corner.  Think you can find it?”

“Yea… I can.”

“Now listen closely.  I want you to wear a dark colored, hooded sweat shirt and a pair of sweat pants with absolutely nothing on underneath.  Take the bus and wear the hoodie up covering your head and face as much as possible.  Can you do that?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Look, I don’t advertise or anything.  I like to keep this part of my life a secret.  Only those I invite know about my dominate side.  I am a legitimate, respected business woman here in the city.  So I expect the upmost privacy.  Please don’t discuss this with anyone or let anyone know where you’re going.  If anyone asks, tell them you have a date.  I hope you understand.”

“Oh I do, Mistress,” I responded as my hard cock raged within my jeans.  “I want this to remain a secret just between the two of us as well.”

“Thank you.”

“Will you do one other thing for me?”

“Anything….  What do you want Mistress?”

“Stand up and show me that big, beautiful cock.”

Without a thought I did as she asked.  I unzipped my jeans and slowly pulled them down along with my underwear.  By then my cock was already rock hard.

“Nice… really nice.  Most guys would give their right nut for a cock that size.”

I blushed a little but smiled, knowing that size really does matter with most women.

The rest of the night was spent reading more stories of Femdom and slavery.  I was so intrigued and just couldn’t get enough of it.  God it made me so fucking hot.  Finally about three in the morning I just jerked off to the picture on my wall and went to bed.

I found it impossible to sleep however.  All I could think about was the guy in the story who got his ass beaten by his dominatrix.  That was going to be me.  I found her.  After a while I drifted off.

Friday night couldn’t get here fast enough.  That morning I decided to go down to see Mrs. Hansen about doing another load of laundry.  I needed to wash my sweatshirt and sweatpants for tonight’s activities, so I took her a whole load of jeans and stuff.  That was no problem; in fact she had even made me a pan of chocolate brownies.

Later in the afternoon I showered and got ready as if I was going out on a date.  Finally it was time.   I left my room with my key and just enough money for bus fare both ways.  I did as she asked, wearing just the sweatshirt, sweatpants and sneakers, nothing more.  I pulled the hoodie up over my head and hid deep in its dark folds.  I didn’t want anyone to see me.

A fear of the unknown swept over me, as I got off the bus just up the street from the theater.  Slowly I walked down the sidewalk until I reached Hulbert.  It’s the third door up I told myself. Suddenly I was there.  The antique shop loomed in front of me.  My heart started to pound, and my cock was rock hard and ready.  I think I was trembling with excitement.

I stood there for a few minutes more.  Finally it was 7 o’clock.  I sucked in a huge breath and entered her shop.  A small bell hung on the door and rang as I walked in.  I was a little scared.  Moments later a gorgeous woman appeared, and all my fears disappeared.

“Nick… I presume?”

“Ah, ah… yes, Mistress.”

“Please come in.  Let’s go on into the back rather than stay out here with all these big open windows.”

I followed her around a variety of well-used junk.  There was that distinct stale smell of old hanging in the air.  When we got in the next room, she turned and looked at me.  Slowly she reached up and put my hood down with both of her hands.  She smiled, as she looked deep into my eyes.

“You’re really cute,” she said as she ran her fingers through my shaggy hair.

I grinned and blushed a little.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

She was wearing a long black satin robe which she slowly opened in front of me.

I’m sure my jaw dropped open when I saw her.  She was gorgeous.  She was just as I imagined.

“What’s the matter Nick?”

She stood there in a black leather bra and….

“Holy fuck…,” I whispered.

“Isn’t this what you expected slave?”

“Oh God yes,” I said, as my hand reached out and lightly touched the soft leather of her garter belt where it came around her hip.

She took my hand and raised it up until I gently felt the smooth leather that barely covered her firm breast.  She watched my every expression before she spoke.

“Now it’s your turn.  Off with those sweats so I can see what you’re so proud of.”

I never hesitated and anxiously pulled my sweatshirt over my head, tossing it into a nearby chair.  She ran her hands over my hairless chest and circled my small nipples.  Her fingers soon reached the waist band of my sweatpants and slowly pushed them down over my hips.  She laughed as the soft material caught onto my fully erect cock.

“Do I excite you a little slave?”

“Yes, Mistress… a lot.”

“I see that.  I’m glad.  If I didn’t, I’d be really upset.”

She ran her hands up and down the entire length of my hard organ a couple of times.

Moments later I was standing before this magnificent Goddess totally naked.  I really thought I would have been a little reluctant to be here like this, but something stirred within me.  I wasn’t bashful in the least.  My balls churned, and my cock throbbed in anticipation.  Small droplets of pre-cum glistened on its tip.  I stood there submissively with my head down a little and waited.  I wondered if I should get down on my knees.  I was ready to be her slave.

She walked slowly around me sort of surveying the merchandise.  Her hand ran across my ass cheeks.  I tightened them just a little.  She chuckled.  After completing her little circle, she reached down and hefted my rather small balls.  They aren’t huge and hang way down like a lot of guys, but everyone is a little different I thought.

“You don’t shave anything do you?”

“No, Mistress.”

“I like that… just naturally blond and with hardly any body hair at all.  If it wasn’t for this long, hard, magnificent cock, I’d think you were only about twelve years old.  But this monster,” she chuckled, as she ran her hand up the length of my shaft once more, “makes all the difference doesn’t it?”

I smiled.

“I wonder why you aren’t out having some young, sweet little pussy dancing on the end of this beauty tonight instead of standing here naked with a woman nearly twice your age.

“Are you gay?”

“No, Mistress, definitely not.”

“I knew you weren’t when you got so hard so quick just looking at me and my leather outfit, but I had to ask.”

She stepped off to the side and picked up something from a small table.

“Turn around.”

As I did, she grabbed my wrist and snapped a handcuff around it.  I could feel the cold steel and hear the ratcheted sound as it closed snuggly against my flesh.  My balls rumbled, and my cock throbbed even harder from the excitement of that moment.  I reached around with my other hand eager to become her captive.  She laughed and fumbled with the cuffs for a moment or two and then turned me back around.

“I fixed the double locks.  That way they can’t get any tighter and cut off your circulation.  You never know what position or where you might end up before the night is out.”

Then I smiled.  “I’m yours to do with as you please Mistress.”

“Oh I will, now on your knees slave.”

Immediately I sank to the floor before her.  Her leather clad pussy was right there in front of me.  I stared at the folds of smooth leather that disappeared into the junction of her legs.  I could smell the intoxicating mixture of the leather and her sex.  Slowly she slid her tiny leather thong down over her hips and then spread her legs a little once it was off.  A very narrow strip of dark hair led my eyes to her moist lips.

I looked up at her and then back down to her waiting pussy.

“Normally I would have never let you even see me at this point.  You would have had to lick my boots and serve me for many months to prove that you are worthy, but I’m especially horny tonight.  Lick my pussy slave, because it will be the last one you will see for a long, long time.”

My head was pushed back as she pulled me between her widely spread legs.  I pushed in a little deeper, so my tongue could explore every inch of her moist pouting lips.  She eased forward a little more and worked her pussy over my face, as the lust surged through her.  I could smell her scent and taste her passion.  I wanted her.

I was hot as well.  My cock throbbed and pulsated with every heartbeat, as I continued to serve her.  I think she was as excited as I was, having a young stud between her thighs.  My tongue worked deep within her moist pussy, and my nose rubbed her ever-hardening clit.  I licked and sucked and savored her sweet nether lips continuing to worship her.  Finally I worked up until I could latch on to that erect little button with my lips.

“Slow down slave.  Take your time.  Enjoy it while you can,” she whispered.

I moved back down and ran my tongue in and out of her love tunnel.  I tongue fucked her for several minutes before moving on.  Finally I slid back up to her special spot.  She put her hands on the back of my head and held me there.  I covered my teeth with my lips and sucked her clit between them.  I worked my tongue over that hard bundle of nerves for a couple of minutes.  Finally after a few more brutal lashes with my tongue, she moaned with pleasure.  Her girl cum gushed from her sweet pussy, as she came over and over again, drenching my lips with her musky offering.  I savored every drop of it, as she moaned and cooed.  I never stopped my eager assault.  I licked and sucked and worked my mouth over her hungry pussy, as she screamed with unending pleasure.  Her orgasms roared through her, one after another.

Finally she stepped back but continued taking long, deep breaths.

“Holy shit!  For a young guy you’re really good at that.  You must have had lots of practice doing that while at college.  I bet you made a lot of girls really happy.”

I smiled, as she stepped back and pulled her little thong back up covering that beautiful treasure.  Then she reached around and picked up something else from the table.

“Open wide slave.”

I opened my mouth, and a large red ball gag was wedged between my teeth.  It filled my mouth as the leather straps were pulled around behind my head and buckled tight.

“Stand up.”

Then she reached over to the table and picked up a second set of cuffs.  They were much heavier with a short, six inch length of chain between them.  These were closed snuggly around each of my ankles.

“Now turn around a little and bend over this table,” she said as she picked up a thin riding crop.

As I did, she continued, “I’m going to give you a dozen hard lashes with this crop across your ass.  Have you ever been whipped before?”

I was a little scared, as I shook my head back and forth.

“You have to pay for the pleasure you just had.  Since you don’t have any money, you’ll pay with a little pain.  That’s why you came here though isn’t it?  You want the pain.”

My head nodded up and down a little, as I tried to mumble, “Yes.”

She ran her hand across my unblemished globes.  They were smooth and ready for her to decorate with dark red stripes and thick purple welts.  My bottom was a blank canvas for her to paint in black and blue.  I was ready.  I wanted it.

I heard the swish of her whip, as it came around and slammed across both of my ass cheeks.

“M – m – m….”

“That hurt slave?”

I nodded my head up and down and tried to mumble through the gag.

“Do you want more?”

Eagerly I nodded yes once more.

Another line of pain sizzled across my ass.  God it hurt.  It cut deep into my flesh, but I never made a sound.  Again she brought the whip around and left another deep red welt just below the last one.  Its fire burned across my butt.  As she continued whipping me, the intensity increased.  Each one hurt more than the last, but I was determined to take it.  I never made a sound as the ninth and tenth lashes fell hard.  The eleventh one went diagonally across both cheeks with even more force than the others.

“M – m….”

The last one was the worse.  It landed in that crease where my ass meets my thighs.  My cheeks clenched tight, and I moaned once more.

“Is that what you expected?”

I didn’t know how to answer.  I really wanted more.  I wanted to be fastened to some bondage bench and whipped some more.  Finally I shook my head up and down as the throbbing continued.

She chuckled as she reached between my legs.  My cock was fully engorged with hot sex-charged lust and desire.  It begged for more.  I looked up at her as she smiled.  I think she was impressed by the way I took her whipping.

“Did you like that slave?”

I nodded my head up and down.

“Do you want more?”

As I indicated my desire, the moment was shattered.  We both heard the bell on the front door of her shop jingle.  Someone entered.

“Shit!” she said.  “I must have forgotten to lock the door and turned the open sign around.  I’m sorry.  Don’t move or go anywhere.  I’ll be right back.”

Yea, chained up like this and being totally naked, I’m going to run right out in the street, I thought to myself.  Of course I’d wait for her. I wanted more of her – much more.

“Just a minute,” she yelled.  “I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time,” some man replied. “I’ll just look around a little.  You never know what special thing you have here that I might be able to take home with me.”

Then she turned to me.  “I’m going to borrow these.”  Quickly she slipped into my sweats to cover herself up and went out into her shop.  I could hear them talking.

“Oh Mr. Mueller… I didn’t expect you quite so early.”

“Well, I was in the area and saw the lights on, so I thought I’d stop in.  Is there any possibility of picking up my newest acquisition tonight?”

“I guess so, but you’ll have to give me a minute or two to get it boxed.  Look around.  I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Please take your time.  There’s really no big hurry, even though I’m really quite excited to see it,” he added.

She came back to where I was and whispered to me.

“Quick!  Get in here Nick and don’t make a sound.  He’s after something rather special,” she explained, as she opened the top of a heavy wooden box.

Being securely locked in both ankle and handcuffs, it was a little difficult, but she helped me climb in, so I could hide.  The box was actually quite small, so I lay down on my side in a tight fetal position in order to fit in.  It was really dark as she closed down the lid.

Soon they were both in the room right next to me talking.

“So,” he asked. “Is this one going to make me happy?”

“Oh without a doubt.  I think he’s absolutely perfect.  He’s exactly what you are looking for. Possibly even better.”

“Can I see him?”

“Of course Franz… he’s right in here.”

Suddenly the top of my hiding place opened, and I looked up in total surprise.  Instantly our eyes met, and a strange sensation rushed through me.

“Very nice,” he said, as the top was again closed.  “I think he’ll do just fine.”  Then I heard some sort of latches on my box, and the click of two locks.

“No!  Let me out of here,” I yelled unheard because of the gag, as I tried to move.

Immediately a feeling of overwhelming panic enveloped me.  I knew I was in deep shit.  There was no doubt in my mind.  I tried to get up and push my way out of the box, but I couldn’t move.  My hands and feet were locked in unyielding chains.  The box was way too strong and locked securely shut.  I screamed and yelled, but the gag kept most of my sounds inside.  Finally I quieted down and lay there wondering what had just happened.

It was nearly pitch black inside the shipping crate except for a few thin steams of light that came in through the small holes that would allow me to breathe.  I quickly realized that there was no possible escape.  I was doomed to whatever lay ahead.

“He’s younger than I thought you would find.”

“As I told you on the phone yesterday… he’s only 19 and absolutely perfect.  There are no family ties, no job and no one will realize he’s missing for several months or more.  I’ll send someone to get anything important from his room tomorrow, and he will completely vanish without a trace.  That’s why I told you I needed a premium price – twenty-five thousand in cash.”

I can’t believe what just happened.  I’ve just allowed myself to be kidnapped.  I willingly came to her for a night of bondage and fell right into a trap.  I even got into this tiny box without a struggle.  I pushed and shoved and fought as hard as I could once more, but it was impossible to get loose.  I was stuck in this fucking crate until he decides to let me out.  I screamed for help, but it didn’t do any good.  No one could hear me.  There was no help for me.

I could hear the muffled sounds, as the transaction took place.  The money was counted, and the deal was finalized.  I had just been sold.  I had just become his property.  I guess I would be his slave instead of hers.  That scared me.  It scared me a lot.

After a while I felt the crate move.  I think I was put on a dolly or something, as my box shook and bounced along.  There were a few sudden jars and jolts.   I was obviously taken down the front steps of the building.  Right there in front of anyone who might be watching, I was taken away.  Then there was one more solid, bone-jarring thud before I heard a motor start.  I was in a vehicle, heading somewhere into the unknown.  At that moment I realized my life would never be the same again.

She was right.  No one will miss me.  If she sent someone to get my computer from my apartment, there would be no trace of me ever.  I will have just vanished from the face of the earth.

Why would someone pay that much money for another person?  That thought bounced around in my brain for quite some time.  Why was I worth $25,000?

I was running all kinds of thoughts through my mind, when I remembered something she said, as I knelt between her thighs, “Lick my pussy slave, because it will be the last one you will see for a long, long time.”

She had asked me earlier if I was gay.  Suddenly I got a bad feeling.  The guy who just bought me is obviously gay.  He was looking for a young submissive male, and it turned out to be me.  I realized that I wouldn’t be eating any pussy in the future.  I wouldn’t be fucking any young, cute college girls either.  I would be sucking cock and probably taking his dick up my ass.  I’m the one who would be fucked.  There was no doubt in my mind that I just became the sex slave of a goddamn faggot.

Again I fought as hard as I could to free myself from this fucking crate and the future that lay ahead, but it was no use.  I was doomed to a new life.  There was no escape.

“N – o – o – o – o….” I screamed.  “N – o – o – o….”

Then something else flashed through my brain.  She told me something the first time we spoke.  It was something about “the possibility of unforeseen and unpleasant consequences.”

I told her I was ready for those, but now I’m having different thoughts.  I have heard about people on the internet who are not who they say they are.  Was I that naïve?  I never gave anything like that a thought.  After all, it couldn’t happen to me.  Who would think of being abducted as a sex slave for some gay guy while answering an ad on Craig’s List for a female dominatrix?  Maybe Craig’s List really does have a few problems.  The ad said “an evening of fun with chains, whips and paddles… no long term commitments.”  Like everything else, it was a lie.  Oh I’m sure the part about “looking for a young, submissive male” was accurate, but where’s a lifetime of slavery fit in to that listing?  That sounds like a pretty long term commitment to me.  And serving a man for God’s sake!

Then I realized I had missed another monumental clue back when we were first talking on Skype.  She told me about being discrete and not telling anyone where I was going.  She said she didn’t advertise.  That’s fucking bull shit.  That fact never registered.  Hell, I found her because of her ad on the internet.  She strung me along – telling me just what I wanted to hear.  Maybe I didn’t want to know the truth.  I wanted to serve a Mistress.

I guess I was wrong when I told her that I had no future.  It isn’t what I had planned, but I guess I have one now.