Too easy

Tim hummed tunelessly to himself as he got out of the shower. The week had seemed to crawl by and now all of a sudden he was nervous as hell and running out of time.

Frowning, he looked over the t-shirt and shirts he’d laid out on the bed. Not normally one for dressing up, or being terribly interested in fashion, what to wear had been a source of some irritation. “I’m only going to take it all off anyway,” he told himself and dressed in black.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Tim was a little too tense to notice the flush in his face. Meeting a Domina for coffee and an introduction was nerve wracking enough. How would the first scene go? She’d seemed very keen on what he’d considered the boring stuff. Did he understand what they were negotiating? What about safe words? Hard limits?

Tim hadn’t been terribly concerned with formalities. Being a 6 foot tall healthy 25 year old, he could take care of himself, what was there to worry about? He’d sent a couple of notes and invited her to coffee. Now she was coming to his place for a bit of a play. Too easy.

For years he’d known deep down that he craved submission to a strong woman. In his mind all that mattered was that She take charge and control him. If he dwelled on it too long he’d waste time here in front of the mirror imagining her standing over him and the feeling of giving himself up… and miss the chance to do it for real. Nothing else mattered in his mind but the chance to finally experience a lifetime’s worth of fantasy.

Driving into the blood red sunset about twenty minutes away, Ellen smiled to herself as she considered possibilities. “Youngsters are all so jolly keen,” she thought to herself. A few chats online and a meet up had made it obvious that this new young pup was as eager as he was inexperienced. Normally she wouldn’t bother with someone under 30, but the red hair kind of turned her on. He probably thought he was picking up a girlfriend for a bit of kinky sex. What the hell, he’s legal and he’s going to do it anyway….

Ellen almost laughed out loud when she remembered how he’d blushed when she was simply mentioning potential play ideas. Power exchange? Pain? Submission? He’d declined to offer any hard limits in favour of pleasing Mistress. Well now; Mistress intended to have some fun.

On the road in front of her a biker on a loud Harley changed lanes. The man’s grizzled grey hair whipped around his face as he looked back for a second and gave her a wave. Ellen responded with a huge grin and flashed her lights.

“Be in the moment,” Ellen told herself and concentrated on the road for the rest of the drive.

When the long awaited knock on the door finally came, Tim nearly tripped over the cat in his haste to answer it. There on the doorstep stood the woman he thought of as Mistress. He stared for a moment at her shiny black stilettoes and wasp waisted jacket. Looking up, he met her eyes for a moment and realised he was being rude. “Come in.” Tim stood back to let her into the hallway. Ellen was a forty something woman of average height and not terribly thin. He probably wouldn’t look twice if he passed her on the street, unless he met her eyes. There was something in those sharp green eyes that captured him. The patent leather heels didn’t hurt either.

As her new plaything turned away to lead her into the lounge, Ellen smiled to herself and carried her own toy bag. She ran her eyes over his tall form and took a few mental notes, mostly consisting of “Yummy” and “did I remember to pack the ball gag?”

Ellen observes the boy standing nervously and waving a hand to offer her a chair. She watches him for a second too long, to see how he reacts. He’s already starting to blush. Ellen looks into him. He drops his eyes. She turns her back and places the toy bag, open, beside the chair. The rush for her is also beginning.

“Would you like something to drink?” Tim asks. Ellen seats herself comfortably and crosses her legs. She stares at him for a moment while he considers what to do. Secretly she’s biting her tongue to keep from laughing at him. “Gods, I’m already in his head!” In the midst of his confusion the boy decides it would be more appropriate to kneel to address his Mistress. Ellen watches as he realises that his pants are suddenly a little too tight to kneel easily. She waits in silent amusement as he arranges himself and repeats his offer. How cute. Ellen wants to slap him.

“I’ll have a glass of white wine.”
“Yes Mistress,” the boy responds and rises without raising his eyes. Well, at least he’s been reading something about service anyway.

Tim returns and kneels, a little more gracefully this time, to offer Mistress her glass. His knees are apart, back straight and hands resting palm up on his legs. Ellen decides to get stuck in. Taking the teflon covered cane from her toy bag, she taps his thigh once or twice to get his full attention.

“Strip.”

Tim’s breath catches in his throat. He looks at his Mistress for a moment and begins to hastily unbutton his shirt.

With his chest bare he kneels in position again, waiting. “I meant everything.” Ellen laughs. He’s almost tripping over himself in his eagerness and ends up hopping on one foot getting out of his pants.

In a moment he’s kneeling fully naked at her feet. With the tip of the cane she traces slow lines over his bare skin. Though he’s not overly muscly his shoulders are naturally broad and she kind of likes that he’s thin and well kept, not to mention that delicate fair, fair skin. So pale and with a few freckles here and there, perfect and unmarked.

Ellen cuffs the boy, hands and feet, and yes there’s the ball gag. Slowly stalking around him tapping him intermittently with the cane, she can see the tension in his body increasing, but he’s not game to say a thing. With one foot in the middle of his back, Mistress pushes him forward so his face is almost on the ground. His bare arse is exposed. He feels the tip of the cane running ever so slowly, softly, over his vulnerable backside and he shivers. The tip of that stiletto heel is then pressed into the side of his head and he finds himself forced down, looking up sideways at his Mistress standing over him. All the blood has rushed to his cock in a sudden and very hard erection. He can barely breathe.

The boy blinks once or twice and listens to the Mistress laughing maliciously. He frowns, trying to figure out what’s happening.

Before the thought is fully formed another takes its place. A momentary blur as the cane traces a perfect parabola through the air. In one instant the inertial energy at the tip, racing at a hundred miles an hour through its arc of motion, impacts onto his bare skin. The boy leaps forward in shock. The sting of the cane bites hard into his flesh like a blade of fire. It is like nothing he’s ever felt. Wide eyed and stunned, he looks up to see Mistress grinning at him.

“Never felt a cane before, have you?” She asks, redundantly. “Not what you imagined?” Before he responds she waves the keys absently. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to live up to your promises, my young slut. I’m going to play with you and you’re going to submit to everything I desire. Or else I’m not undoing the cuffs.”

Ellen watches his face go slightly grey as reality sinks in. This is going to be fun.

He’s boasted so much about taking as much pain as Mistress can dish out. How he’ll do anything she wants, anything to please her. Well my dear, you want to be my slave? Fine. This time I will please myself.

The cane bites again and the boy at her feet grunts and whimpers.

“Shut up, slut.” Ellen orders him. His breath is ragged as he tries to breathe with the ball forced in his mouth. “You’ll lie there and take it silently.”

The boy bites down on the ball and closed his eyes as they fill with tears. He struggles not to make any noise as the tip of that dreaded cane touches his balls ever so softly. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles are digging in to his skin as he maintains his position and fights the rising sense of panic. She can do anything she wants to him now. Anything at all.

Ellen watches the welts rising on that pale skin. It doesn’t occur to her to wonder what he’s thinking right now. He’s nothing more than a toy to her. A piece of meat with which she can amuse herself for a few hours and then discard. With a well practised flick of her wrist, she brings the cane down again. The hair raising whistle of its motion through the air ends in a loud, sharp and satisfying impact. A shudder races through the boy’s body. Another wickedly red welt rises in the tender flesh.

“Look at you,” Mistress tells him, “all naked there at my feet. You’re such a desperate little slut, aren’t you? Begging me for some attention. Telling me how much you’ll do to please me. Boasting about how quickly you’ll learn to serve and submit.”

The heels of her shoes click on the floor as she steps around his bare, helpless body. “I’m not sure you’re worth the effort, you know. I go to all this trouble, to do a scene with you and you don’t even submit to some discipline. Honestly I don’t know why I bother with such a useless little slut. Why not leave you to someone else to break in?”

Another stroke leaves its mark on his body. Mistress wonders aloud if it’s worth even training this boy. “What’s the point of a Mistress wasting her time on you? I want to see some goddamned obedience, not this pathetic whimpering.”

Ellen stands back to admire her handiwork, the vicious lines evenly spaced across one rounded cheek of his white arse. The other remains as yet smooth and untouched. Mistress steps over him to enable a vertical stroke, developing a nice cross hatched pattern that will render him unable to sit for the next week.

The boy turns his head again and sobs quietly. Unable to speak, his eyes plead with the Mistress. She laughs at him. He is completely at her mercy now, if she had any.

Mistress amuses herself for another few minutes getting the marks to match. The boy is resting his forehead on his clenched, cuffed hands, trying not to cry into the carpet. In spite of himself his erection is still so very hard. It’s as if she owns his body and it wills to please her of its own accord.

Ellen kicks him in the ribs, turning him over onto his side. She looks at him for a second and he drops his eyes. She smiles and traces a line slowly down his belly. The boy shudders, trying to avoid provoking her.

“So you’ll be a good sub?” She whispers, her voice now soft and encouraging. He nods his head.

“You seem like such a pretty little piece. If only you could be trained. You’d make an attractive toy for a Mistress.” She runs her fingers slowly down the side of his neck. “It’s such a shame you’re so resistant and proud. We really can’t have that in a toy, can we?” The boy shakes his head, hoping to please her. Hoping to avoid any more of the cane.

As Ellen replaces the cane in her toy bag and reaches in, his sigh of relief is almost comical. She grins at him. She’s pulling on a rubber glove. The boy closes his eyes and tries not to think about what’s coming. But her hands are already running over his body and she’s going to do it to him anyway. He takes a deep shuddering breath and waits. With one hand she’s slowly rubbing his arsehole, with the other she’s reaching into the bag again. He feels something cold and wet which makes him shiver. He dare not try to resist lest the cane come out again, but as she slowly penetrates his body with one slippery finger he shudders and moans.

Mistress is talking to him again as she plays with him. Cuffed and gagged he’s completely vulnerable and she takes full advantage. She tells him how tight he is, and slides her finger into him. The boy winces and shivers but is unable to resist. As she rubs him slowly, pumping him, slipping in and out, he gives in to the guilty pleasure.

She tells him what a gorgeous arse he has and how she’d love to fuck him. Now she applies some more lube and he arches unintentionally as she uses two fingers, stretching his virgin hole.

The boy feels her body behind him, pressing against his cuffed legs as she’s slowly shafting his arse. “Look at me.” She tells him. He glances up and she’s looking right into his eyes as she’s stroking him. He blushes in humiliation and looks away, feeling so used and exposed. Mistress laughs and pumps him again, watching his breath catch and his erection still ever so hard, the head of his cock rising a little as his bound body is impaled and invaded.

He doesn’t know whether to feel pleasure or shame or both. The cuts from the cane are still burning in his skin, stinging where the lube has smudged onto them. The pleasure rises in intensity and in spite of himself the boy bites down on the gag and groans. His hard cock twitches again, he is so close to coming. Mistress slows a little. The boy feels something cold and smooth being inserted in him. His eyes are closed and his head rolls back in bliss. Then she stops. The boy gasps in frustration, then in pain as Mistress grabs his balls and gives them a twist.

“No unauthorised orgasms, slut.”

He lies on the floor, panting slightly and watches her. Mistress is fiddling with something small and silvery. “There we go,” she says and smiles. The boy jumps as he feels a sudden vibration inside him. He whimpers and arches, then it’s gone. He moans. Mistress laughs, “That’s my little bullet. I think you’ll like him, he’s remote controlled.” She gives the boy another demonstration. The buzzing sensation is right up behind his cock and he feels like he’s going to explode.

Mistress amuses herself for a few moments pinching the end of his hard cock so that the pain keeps him from coming, while he writhes to the feel of the little vibrating bullet she’s stuck up his arse. After she turns it off he draws one long, shuddering breath and lies there.

Ellen smiles as she watches for a moment. She’s feeling that nice, warm buzz and more than a little aroused herself. No more cocky words from him now as he’s bound and helpless, submitting to her use of him. She runs her hand slowly over the muscles in his arms and feels her breath catch slightly in her throat. He’s so vulnerable and she can do whatever the hell she wants with him.

With a cocky little smile on her face, Mistress pulls a length of twine and a chain dog leash out of the bag. His cock feels so hot in her hand as she begins to bind it. He’s so hard. She laughs at him and gives him a good pinch. It’s supposed to soften him a little so she can tie it tighter, but he’s too far gone. She ties him up anyway, running the twine around his cock, tying a knot, another loop, then one down around his balls. Eventually he’s tied up quite painfully and a little loop of twine is left just above the head of his cock. Ellen clips the dog lead to it and gives it a yank to test the effect. The boy yelps and brings his knees up reflexively, but to no avail. She yanks it again and tells him to lower his knees. “I own you, slut. In my hand here, I control you. You’ll do everything I say.” She looks in his eyes and sees that it’s true. He’s completely in her control. She feels a rush of warm wetness between her legs and savours the sensation.

After uncuffing his ankles, Mistress takes the gag out of the boy’s mouth and pulls a leather hood over his head. There’s a zip over the mouth of it. Mistress leaves it open, but the boy says nothing. She stands up and giving him a tug, orders him to his feet. With his hands still cuffed and feeling somewhat woozy, the boy rises awkwardly and stands before the Mistress. He feels utterly exposed, with his cock still hard and throbbing, standing out in front of his body in it’s little harness of cord. Mistress massages the head for a moment, telling him what a beautiful cock he has. Then she yanks on the leash hard and pulls him along behind her.

The boy wants to say something, but doesn’t know what. The pain from the cockand ball bondage makes him want to curl up on the floor again, but if he resists she’ll hurt him more. He is groaning quietly as he walks, awkwardly trying to reduce the intermittent and painful episodes of friction on his organ.

Ellen happily leads him around the lounge room, making sure he has the idea and also that he’s not going to do anything disappointing like fainting. With a cheeky little grin on her face, she advances down the hallway, and feels the expected resistance as she nears the front door. Turning, she sees his eyes wide under the hood. That’s about all she can see of his face but the expression on the rest is kind of obvious.

“Would you rather we do some more caning?” She asks innocently. He’s shuffling his weight from foot to foot, desperate to find a way out of this. Mistress sighs, “you’re not going to be disobedient are you? I had such high hopes for your training. It would be a terrible disappointment if you turned out to be some pathetic little whimp and I’ve wasted all this time on you.” She stops for a moment and runs her hand slowly down his chest and over his belly, stopping to stroke his bound cock. “such a pretty little subbie. You could be such a good slave. If only you knew how to obey a Mistress properly. You want to be obedient, don’t you?” She says, gently running her fingers around the engorged pink head.

“If you don’t say anything, no-one’s going to recognise you anyway.” Mistress proclaims as she opens the front door and yanks him along behind.

The street is dark, but there’s still way too many people around. The boy follows closely behind his Mistress, holding his cuffed hands in front of him to try to hide as much as possible. She reaches into her pocket and thumbs the remote control momentarily. He almost trips. Mistress laughs.

A couple of older women out power-walking approach along the footpath. Mistress smiles and says hello to them. They both return the smile and comment on what a lovely slave the Mistress has and what a lovely cock. Beneath the leather hood the boy’s face is burning in humiliation. Who’d have thought old women ever felt sexy? The boy feels his cheeks clench as Mistress thumbs the remote again. The women are commenting on his gorgeous bum as they continue on.

The walk is only a couple of blocks, which seems a delightful stroll to Ellen and an interminable procession of terror to the boy. Heads turn in cars driving by. A few kids on BMX’s laugh and yell insults and encouragement. One of them stops to take a photo with his mobile phone and the others are grabbing their crotches and pretending stimulation. In a shop front a couple of young women are pointing and laughing. Ellen gives them a wave. The boy feels his heart racing and wonders why no one has called the cops.

Years later, or so it seems, Mistress leads the boy around a corner and off the main road. On the grimy side street, partially lit by a smudge of yellow halogen well on its way to burn out, a greasy old brick store front lurks. In the gutter out front are parked at least four big motorbikes. The boy’s heart pounds as Mistress leads him nearer. He’s desperate to get off the street, but not so keen to go in there of all places.

She turns and flashes him a warm smile. “You’re doing so well,” Mistress tells him. “I knew you could, it only took a little encouragement, didn’t it?” He longs to feel her approval but is terrified that she might fondle him again out here. In spite of the cold and embarrassment, he is still painfully erect and the twine tied around him chafes, increasing his arousal.

The door squeals dismally as it is pushed open, as if it dreams of auditioning for a part in a horror movie. The boy swallows convulsively. Mistress leads him inside with a hard jerk on the chain. He cringes in pain but dares not lag behind.

Inside the light is not much brighter. There’s a counter decorated with bits of paper and sinister drawings. Toward the back, littered among some odd looking chairs a, half dozen or so bikers loom. Conversation stops and all heads turn toward the new comers. One man with longish salt and pepper grey hair in a slowly rotting denim vest unfolds from where he was stored and seems to keep on going up. He must be 6′6 and almost as wide. As he approaches the counter he rolls up his sleeves revealing forearms the size of hams decorated in lurid tribal designs and various comic erotica.

“Can I help you?” He asks in a husky bass rumble that suggests an offer of anything but help.

Ellen smiles warmly and pulls the chain. The boy is helpless to resist the pain of the bondage around his cock even while being proffered to the scrutiny of the enormous biker. He shivers convulsively and tries not to wet himself. It’s hard to pee with a hard on anyway, thank christ.

“We’d like a tattoo, please.” Says the Mistress. The boy looks at her in disbelief. He’s wondering why she’d bring him all the way out here if she only wants to get a tattoo. Then he realises it’s probably not for her. The Mistress and the biker both look at him, smiling.

Goose bumps appear all over the boy’s skin. All his hair seems to stand on end and he’s whimpering quietly under the hood as Mistress pulls on the chain, dragging him around behind the counter. The cord binding him digs into his swollen cock as he struggles to resist the pain. She’s laughing at him and he begins to beg her not to do this. She has the chain doubled around her hand now, with the leash pulled up hard so he has to stand on tip toes. Looking into his eyes, Mistress is telling him he has such lovely fair skin and she’s going to put her mark on it and there’s nothing he can do about it.

The boy is crying now, pleading with her. He gasps for breath. The biker is looking at him coldly, like a bug under a magnifying glass and for a moment the boy gets a cold run of blood. Mistress nods at the biker and suddenly the boy finds himself manhandled onto one of the chairs. He’s lying face down with his legs straddling the seat.

“Hey Richie!” The biker rasps, “did you ever see an arse this pretty when you were in prison?” The bikers all laugh. The boy’s heart nearly stops. Another large grey haired man is approaching from the dimly lit recesses of the shop. He smells of alcohol and cigarette smoke. When he grins at the boy’s helplessness, he reveals a few stained teeth and a lot of gaps.

“Nope, can’t say I did. Would have like to though.” The boy’s breath comes in ragged gasps as he sits, frozen in disbelief, while the biker begins to run his rough, dirty hands over the boy’s skin.

“Here.” Ellen’s voice. She’s handing the man something. He looks at it quizzically then leers at the boy. He thumbs the control and the boy jumps. The biker turns up the vibration in the bullet and leaves it running while he continues his slow appraisal of the boy’s arse and legs.

“Not bad, this one. Quite pretty. Broken him in yet?”

“Not yet.” Ellen replies, “I thought it should be something special. He’s one of these subbies who will do absolutely anything to please Mistress and I could do with some money for shoes, so I might sell his arse.”

The mostly toothless old biker nods appreciatively. “I’d give you at least a hundred.”

Ellen considers this for a moment and shrugs. The boy is shaking like a leaf. “After the tatt.” She anounces. The biker nods and hands her back the remote. The little bullet embedded inside him continues buzzing for a moment, while Mistress amuses herself watching him squirm. He’s panting a little and sweat breaks out on him as he’s close to coming. The boy groans wordlessly and lies there with his eyes closed. He’s never been more afraid in his life, yet he’s so hard and so insanely aroused.

At the last moment, she turns the thing off, leaving him panting, terrified and frustrated, and still lying in this godammned chair. The bikers down the back are conspiring over something involving some explicit hand gestures. They appear to be quite enthused. They are casting big smiles in Ellen’s direction.

The tall biker and Mistress do a little negotiation, then the boy feels his shoulder held in a grip like that of a bear. The biker pulls him to his feet and turns him over. One calloused hand runs over the boy’s lower belly, pushing his bush down slightly, emphasising the exposure of the soft skin. Ellen nods. The biker spits on the floor and sniffs as he reaches for his tools.

The boy looks at his Mistress in wide eyed terror, but she ignores him, walking away to look at designs of naked fairies on one wall of the shop. He lurches in the chair as the biker ties the chain to its arm.

“It’s better if you don’t move.”

The boy closes his eyes and wishes he were very, very far away.

All too soon he hears the buzz of the little needle gun and feels the biker’s breath as the man leans down to begin tracing the outline of the artwork. A stinging sensation burns into his skin, down below his navel and just above his bush, but it’s no match for the welts of the cane on his arse or the tight binding on his cock. The boy lies there silently and prays for it to be over.

After about half an hour, it is. Ellen stands watching as the biker leans back and looks for her opinion. She smiles. “Nice, thankyou.”

The boy has “SLUT” tattooed in large roman letters just above his pubes line.

The tall biker and Mistress are walking away, talking further. The boy takes a deep shuddering breath and hopes they’ve forgotten about the rest of it. He feels faint and hopes he can stand up and get out of here if Mistress says the word.

With a big smile, the tall man walks back to join his friends and Mistress comes to collect her slut. He’s shaking and sweaty, hoping to make an escape somehow. But she smiles and shakes her head. “Poor thing. Look at you, all worked up. Never mind. I know you’ll like it.” Richie has come to join them and Ellen waves her hand telling the boy to turn over. He freezes. She laughs.

“Do as you’re told.”

The boy is shaking openly now and whimpering softly under the hood. Mistress looks around. “You don’t have a belt or something handy do you? He’s not properly trained yet unfortunately.”

Richie obliges by removing his own belt, which leaves his pants dangerously unsupported. The boy squirms in the chair, desperate to avoid any further exploratory spelunking. Mistress responds by turning on the remote control and yanking on the boy’s bound cock. Caught between the pleasure and the pain, the boy groans out loud and writhes in the chair. He is unable to resist when the biker hauls on his arm and turns him over.

Mistress turns off the vibrator and runs her hand down in front of him, slowly stroking and squeezing his cock which is throbbing now and aching from the bondage and lack of release. Her soft hand runs over his skin, around and over his exposed arse. He knows now that he’s gone. There’s nothing he can do and there’s no point fighting it. The biker is standing ever so close to him, the denim of the man’s jeans is rubbing against the boy’s thigh and feels oddly sexual. The boy swallows and drops his head, confronted with his desire to escape and the persistent curiosity, the fantasy of being fucked by this man.

The little bullet is carefully extracted from the boy’s orifice. Something cold and wet is applied liberally to the hole. The boy grunts and squirms again as someone fingers him, feeling how tight and hot his flesh is. A rough voice in his ear assures him it will be a good hard fucking. The boy is crying now, silently under the hood. He wants to call out to his Mummy, but knows that no one will help him.

Behind him, the biker is fiddling with something and Mistress takes the opportunity to stroke the boy’s cock again. Even stroking it is now painful. The tight cord bites into him. Then the boy feels bare skin behind him, and pressure on his arse. He sobs and tries to breath, twitching a little and moaning as he feels the head of the man’s cock, hard against his hole. Pressing, harder, telling him to open up but pressing anyway until the hardness finally penetrates and impales him. The boy lurches and cries out. The bikers are gathered around to watch a good hard arse fucking. They laugh and start shouting encouragement to Richie and his boy trainer.

The boy is panting, gasping, as he feels the man’s cock driven deeper and deeper inside him. He writhes and pleads for him to stop. The biker thrusts hard with his hips and pumps all the way up to the balls, letting out a mighty groan. “Damn what a tight arse!” He laughs and starts thrusting away, riding the boy’s tight hole.

Feeling the man’s hard cock up inside him, stroking him, the boy is shocked to realise that he’s on the verge of coming. Mistress has his cock in hand and is gripping it gently. His body is being pounded down into the chair with every thrust of the strong old man riding him. The huge hard cock continues pumping his arse. Again and again, it reams him, harder and harder as the biker begins panting and sweating.

The boy moans in time with the thrusts. His breathing is ragged now and his body finally releases. Hot come spills and sprays out of his bound cock, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine even as the binding bites into him. The biker’s cheer for him. His body twitches as the force of the orgasm is released.

“Oh yes!” The biker pumps him again, and once more, and grunts as his body finds it’s climax. The boy can feel the hard cock throbbing inside him as the biker comes. He feels it pumping the cream right up into his arse. He’s sobbing in relief as much as anything. And it feels so good.

The boy cries out as the biker pulls out of his arse. He feels suddenly empty, open and violated. He lies there panting, waiting while the biker dresses himself and somewhere behind him money is changing hands. His arse is sore, fucked and caned. His balls are sore. His cock is somehow still hard in it’s bindings. He waits in a limbo of satisfaction and humiliation for Mistress to give him an order.

In a moment, Mistress is pulling on the leash again. The boy stands stiffly but obediently, his body aching, silent under the hood. The tall biker comes over and gives Mistress a hug. “Good to see you again Ellen.” He tells her, “don’t be a stranger.” He then returns to his friends at the back of the shop and whatever they were doing. He says nothing to the boy. The boy is simply a used toy for someone else’s amusement.

Mistress leads the boy slowly back to his house. Fortunately it is later now and there’s hardly anyone on the street. The boy is walking slowly. His arse is quite sore and he feels numb.

As they approach the house, a cop car cruises past. The boy stares at the ground as his heart pounds in terror. The car slows and the sirens give a short yell. The boy is shaking now. Mistress is saying something. The boy looks up and sees one of the cops has the window down and is saying something with a smile on his face. “Good to see you Ellen, have a good night.” The cop calls, and then they drive off. The boy wonders how many virgin arses have been sold to the cops in this town. Ellen knows that it might have been the cop’s arse that was sold. And that was a really enjoyable evening.

Back inside, the boy is shivering all over now and not with cold. Mistress gives him a hug and tells him how good he was. She removes the hood and the cord around his cock, which is throbbing now in pain. She starts rubbing it for him, but he’s whimpering. Instead she has him get on the floor on his hands and knees. Getting out an old grandfather belt from her toy bag, she whacks him ten times on his arse, which nearly has him in tears even though she’s not hitting him at all hard.

Ellen counts down the ten strokes, telling him that the scene’s over now. He’s been a good boy but could use some more training, she thinks. Off come the cuffs.

Tim kneels on the floor for a moment then, looking at his hands and blinking. He’s back at home but somehow doesn’t feel at home. He’s hoping that he’ll wake up now.

“Thank you Mistress,” he says in a whisper.

Ellen smiles and puts her toys away.

“What do we do now?” Tim asks.

“Do whatever you want. I dunno, have a shower maybe? You stink like sex. I’m going home.”

“Am I your sub now?” He asks.

Ellen laughs. “Well, you might be one of my subs. Maybe.”

“But I want to serve you Mistress.”

“Yeah, you and every other twisted little kink. I’ll think about it.”

She closes the door behind her as she leaves. Tim walks in a daze to the bathroom and starts to run a shower. The hot water feels good running over his body. For some minutes he runs the whole evening back through his mind, not quite believing what happened, then feeling more and more excited and satisfied by the experience.

Before long he finds himself dreaming up more fantasies.

Ellen drives home and gets online, she’s organising a meeting with another new sub. There’s a half dozen messages in her mailbox. “Too easy.” She says with a smile.

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