Freedom is Slavery (26 page)

He could only sob and shake his head.

"This is going all the way down your little penis. This is a sounds." She placed it back on her tray before getting another alcohol rub that she used on the head of his penis. The alcohol burned but, at the same time, the warmth felt pleasant on some levels to Louis. She noticed that his cock was attempting to get hard again. Rather than allow this, she used her thumb and forefinger to thump his swollen balls. He cried out again and his cock shrunk immediately.

Taking the sounds, she used some medicinal lubricant on it, also dabbing some on the slit of his penis. Holding his penis with one hand, she used the other to guide the Dittel sounds inside.

Immediately, the urgent feeling of urinating hit Louis. He was overcome with the dread and humiliation of peeing himself while he wasn’t actually doing so. He’d never felt anything going into his urethra, just urine coming out. He whimpered as he watched the metal spike slide inside of him.

She loved seeing the clean silver metal disappear into him, knowing the sensations that she sent through his body as she did it. In a sense, she was fucking his penis with this hard metal. She slid it in until she knew to stop. Afterwards, she put a small cage around his cock and balls that held the sounds straight into the air, perpendicular to his body. This sight was so amusing that she had to laugh to herself again.

While she removed her gloves she admired her handiwork. She thought of the perfect addition to Louis’s discomfort.

Melanie retrieved a TENS unit from her bag and connected the alligator clips to the metal tip of the sounds. She set it on low and started the electrical current running down the metal into Louis’s penis. He moaned low at the introduction of this new sensation. She smiled before clicking the "UP" button on the unit to increase the voltage.

He moaned again, this time with a hint of urgency, as if unsure whether he was feeling something pleasurable or painful shooting through his member and running through his body. She clicked "UP" again, twice now. The moan became something of a mewl and then a howl as any question of pleasure was demolished and only pain coursed through him in pulses.

How she enjoyed being the bringer of pain through her medical experience. Too often she was cautious of giving "ouchies" while every time she was with Louis she could give as much pain as she desired. She watched him writhe and upped the voltage again. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes and his body began to shake uncontrollably. She allowed this to go on for another thirty seconds before slowly dialing back the TENS down to zero.

She slid the sounds out of him and knew that this brought on the sensation of urination once again. Rather than letting him wet his cell again later on, Melanie removed a prepared catheter from her bag and inserted the pre-lubed tip into his urethra pushing deeper this time until she pushed into his bladder. Immediately, a stream of urine began to flow out and fill the plastic bag between his legs. This humiliation was simply too much. Louis began to cry openly now as he lost control of his bladder.

This only made Melanie laugh aloud. "Poor baby," she mocked. "Is she going pee pee all on her own?" She laughed again.

She went about her business, cleaning up her equipment, as the urine continued to drain from Louis’s bladder and tears continued to fall from his eyes. When empty, she removed the catheter tube and then removed the spikes from his nipples.

This attention immediately brought a response from his penis again. "See? Everything’s okay," she giggled.

She had him roll over onto his stomach, his hard-on brushing the paper of her examination table. She injected him with a sedative that put him out immediately. She would have Kevin wheel him back to his cell later.

My name is Jessica Bowen. I was going through a rather awful divorce and had to move in with my sister and her family. Coming from the big city to this suburban shithole was quite a change for me but the quiet did me good. It gave me some distance from the turmoil of my former home and soon-to-be-former husband.

I spent a few hours every day pounding the pavement in search of new employment; hoping to find a job that wouldn’t insult me in terms of pay or duties. Plying my Master’s of Psychology degree was a bit easier in the city where therapists grew on trees. I also "paid my rent" by helping my sister keep her house clean. I don’t want to say that she lived in a pigsty but it was a far cry from my austere apartment.

Things really got interesting for me approximately six weeks after I moved in. I was running a vacuum through my nephew’s room when I made a fascinating discovery—his porn stash.

Every young man keeps a supply of pornographic material on hand and Louis was no exception. However, what he kept was truly exceptional. I expected
Playboy
,
Penthouse
, or even a
Hustler
. What I found was
Nugget, DominaExpress
, and
Prometheus
. My nephew was a fetishist! And, judging from the extensive markings in
DominaExpress,
he was actively seeking a partner to explore his desires.

I couldn’t resist. I started going through this magazine; seeing which ads he had circled, which words he underlined, which ads he had replied to and what responses he got (he kept the letters with their respective ads—he was pretty darned efficient for an eighteen-year-old). The words flooded over me, awakening feelings that I had long since thought dead—desires I had allowed to go dormant while married to my vanilla husband. Though I felt so right I also knew what I was thinking was wrong. I stuffed the magazine back in its proper place and tried to go on with housework like Molly Fucking Maid to no avail. It was less than five minutes later that I was in my bedroom, door locked, with my vibrator, imagining some pretty outrageous things as I came...hard.

That night at dinner it was difficult to wipe the smile off my face as I sat next to my nephew, knowing secrets about him that he’d probably rather die than admit out loud. I had been in the position he was in twenty years before and knew the confusion of bearing such "unusual" desires. I nearly choked on my meal when the thought,
I wonder if he’s wearing panties tonight
, popped into my head.

An idea came to me that night that I was determined to carry out. If anyone was going to initiate this poor boy to the ins-and-outs of BDSM, it was going to be me. Damn the consequences and the implications. That night I sat down with pen and paper and started crafting the perfect lure.

I thought I was going to go mad as I watched the progress from afar. I saw the new issue of
DominaExpress
appear in his stash. Saw the markings on my ad and couldn’t wait for my mail forwarding service to deliver a letter from my nephew. When it arrived I was truly impressed by his candor, his penmanship, and his use of language. Having written a number of these "cover letters," he seemed to be reluctant to pour out too much of his heart as most of the responses he had gotten were simple form letters asking for money.

I wrote back, making sure to write my response and not type it. I wanted to show him that I would give him the time of day. This already would set me apart from most of the respondents. And, knowing more of his hot buttons than he admitted to me gave me some perfect fodder to guarantee our continued correspondence.

How strange it was to see my own letter show up in his stash a few days later. He had gone through it and underlined certain key phrases that I knew would set his loins on fire. They worked. From the tissue in his wastebasket I knew that my next missive would contain a schedule for his masturbation. Perhaps I’d see how well he stuck to it by walking in on him during a scheduled self-abuse session.

I grinned slyly to myself and knew I’d have to play it smart and make me the only Domme he wrote, though it was too early to demand exclusivity. I’d have to prove that I was going to be worth pursuing.

At dinner I could barely contain myself. Soon I knew for sure if he was wearing panties to the table. I had ordered him to and found them tucked away in his underwear drawer when he was out. I watched as my letters stacked up. When the next
DominaExpress
came out and the new issue didn’t find its way into his stash. I knew he was mine.

This possession came none too soon as I had managed to find a well-paying job and knew it was time to move out of my sister’s place. This took away my conduit to checking on Louis but I knew he wouldn’t stray from his newfound Mistress, Lady Jessica. My new employment also helped as I hired a photographer to build Lady Jessica a portfolio with which I could tease my hapless submissive. Keeping my face hidden, I would include a new picture every second or third letter. He was always begging for more.

I had Louis in panties seven days a week. I had him admitting fantasies to me that undoubtedly shocked him. I pulled information out of him that he hadn’t admitted to anyone, including himself. I pushed and pushed until I knew that a meeting was required to go any further.

I borrowed a friend’s van and picked Louis up in a rather remote parking lot. He was instructed to get into the back of the van, lay down on the floor and put on a blindfold. I knew he had to be incredibly nervous but he did very well. He even fared well as I led him up to my apartment, blindfold still on. Thank goodness for early evenings in autumn, otherwise leading around a blindfolded teenager might arouse suspicion in my new neighbors.

I wanted to make him as vulnerable as possible. I had him strip down to his panties and left him in my "dungeon room" while I went to change and don a Harlequin mask.

I had worked on my voice for months previous; working up a husky tone that I knew would appeal to Louis’s latent bisexuality. I didn’t want him recognizing me... at least not yet.

I put him at ease, removing his blindfold, talking to him gently, barely above a whisper. He knelt on a rug and I could see him shiver—not from cold but from anticipation.

"I know why you’re here. You’re here to serve. You’re here because every waking moment for as long as you can remember you’ve felt like a nail, waiting to be hammered. You’re part of an incomplete equation... I’m the other part of that equation. I am here to complete you. I am here to help you fulfill your purpose. I will control your body and, eventually, your mind. You long for this."

He nodded.

Rather than tolerate bad behavior, I hit him on the flank with my crop. "You don’t have a gag in your mouth. You may speak... with permission."

"Yes, Lady Jessica."

"Much better." I had him lean down and kiss my feet. I swear I almost orgasmed right then. It had been ages since I had had a man at my feet, his soft lips and snakey tongue dancing between my toes. It was heavenly. I sat down on an ottoman and allowed him to worship my feet completely.

I knew that this was the first time he had ever had his mouth on a woman’s feet and he performed wonderfully. He truly was a natural.

As he sucked on my big toe I thought I’d give him a thrill and said, "That’s right. Suck it like a cock." His cock jumped in his panties.

I allowed him to pleasure my feet for a while longer—perhaps longer than I should have but it was so pleasant—before having him stand before me for inspection.

"You look so pretty in your panties, dear. I’m going to have to have you buy a matching bra and high heels." Again, his cock jumped. I had him remove his panties to show me his engorged cock. I used the end of my riding crop to manipulate it. Lifting it, smacking it, running along his balls.

He moaned slightly. I began rubbing the soft leather end along the underside of his cock. He swayed a bit on his feet.

"I know all of your secrets," I told him. "Even those things you wouldn’t admit to me in your letters. I’ll introduce you to your own desires. I bet you never thought you’d be dreaming about sucking a woman’s foot but you’ll be dreaming of mine tonight. You’ll also be dreaming of my ass." I stood up and turned around. I kept my skirt down, despite wanting to lift it up and feel his hot breath of my rosebud. "Kiss it, boy. Kiss your Lady’s ass."

He got down on his knees again and kissed me on both cheeks; one and then the other. Had my skirt been up I would have felt his hot lips on my flesh. I knew that he was beyond turned-on. Despite wanting to see him cum all over my feet and feel him licking it up I thought it’d be better to wait on that for now.

I wanted to see his tolerance for pain. I led him to a table where I tied him down, face down, and went through a wide array of implements to redden his behind. If only his mother could see him now, I thought, as I made him whine out. Still, he wouldn’t use his safe word and that made me so proud.

I let him cool down while I went to get my digital camera to take some snapshots of my handiwork. It had been at least a decade since I had beat a submissive and found it to be just like riding a bicycle. Knowing that this was his first time out and that I’d have to drive him back to our "neutral ground" and that this was a school night, I decided that he’d had enough. I hoped, in future, that I could provide my sister and brother-in-law with excuses for Louis’s evening absences but I wasn’t ready to break it to the boy that his aunt was now his owner.

I had him roll over on the table and told him to jerk his cock for me. Oh, how delicious it is to see someone who’s only ever masturbated in private do it in front of another person.

He kept his eyes locked on my masked face as he reached down and began stroking himself. His eyes became heavy-lidded but he refused to close them, as if he was afraid that I’d disappear. No way in hell. I was having too much fun watching my nephew abuse himself before me. I had only ever listened to him do it before. That helped give me cues when he was getting ready to cum. I reached out and pinched his closest nipple. This set him off. He exploded, four weeks of pent-up sexual frustration (per my orders) coming out in a torrent of milky jism. I scooped up a handful and fed it to him.

Get used to it
, I thought.