0 comments/ 8654 views/ 2 favorites Domme By: Wallace2424 There was another pop against her red ass. She yanked at the chains that bound her to the arched ceiling. "How the fuck did I get here?!" Her mind was racing. Another strike landed on her cheeks. They began to fondle her nipples. They were strong and handsome. Each tit was handled, pulled sucked. She did not have the control. Her license to demand had been revoked... momentarily. These two had somehow overpowered her and chains became her master. Each link pulled her wide and exposed all to her audience. Their eyes slid into her pussy... rolled over her skin... lingered in and on her ass. Each commanded her attention. They were dressed in leather & black cotton. Whips adorned their sides. A large bulge pushed against each zipper. "I am the fucking Domme here!" Her scream went unnoticed. She had this room added to her home last year. She was a respected Domme in the community and this was her office. But not tonight... these two had other plans. They were absolutely hot and two of her favorite clients. She had fucked their asses many times. Her whips had drawn red crevices on their backs. Their short cropped attitude had no place here. This place was their little secret. She often thought of them and how each cock might feel inside of her. But she was the fucking Domme.... until...... They had discussed this before. Each knew there would be a night and a time to act out the plan. This was it. As she reached to lock the first one to the steel ring, he grabbed her wrist and forced her down on her knees. She instantly became wet. Her desires for someone with the balls enough to take her were here, times two. There was a pause as they took in the sight. It was a boi's night out. These butches were hard core. This was the only place that anyone had ever bossed them. She was their Domme. She took them in ways each had never imagined. So tonight was her bonus... her tip... her 'thank you'. She could feel a drip of sweat rolling down her back. The younger boi traced his finger inside the salty liquid. "I am wearing my biggest cock for you." He unzipped and pulled the large dick out and stood in front of her. "You will suck this." Together the two bois unlocked the latches. Keeping the chains attached they walked her to the swing. She knew this swing well. It was a deliciously torturous device. They muscled each leg, and her ass into the suspended slings. They had adjusted it earlier and she was laying flat, legs spread, her head tilted back. It was an expensive investment. The swing was a one of a kind with adjustable positions, heights, and bindings. It was literally a fucking masterpiece. She knew that she was going to get fucked hard. Her pussy was drenched. There they were, the two butches... her butches. She was amazed and frightened at the undiscovered strength and forcefulness they had. The oldest boi pushed hard between her thighs. He ripped off his shirt. This butch had amazing tits. He placed his nipple on her exposed clit and began to massage it. Meanwhile her mouth was full of cock. "Yeah, suck little girl." His eyes were completely affixed to her lips surrounding his dick. It made him wet underneath the shaft. He moved just enough to get his fingers between... and inside his pussy. Back and forth he rubbed from clit to deep wetness. She moaned. A cock was pushed inside of her. It filled her. "Don't stop sucking bitch!" Her lips wrapped around each cock. "God!!" A muffled scream slipped from between the folds of flesh and tongue. Her ass was still burning from the lashings as a large plug was inserted. His cock slid tight and smooth in her pussy. "Shut the fuck up!" The boi slipped his cock out of her mouth. He stepped out of the harness and grabbed his whip. Quickly he put the detached cock back in place... against her tongue. He began to whip her nipples. Light lashings criss crossing and teasing each hard tit. Her ass was pulsing as she began to cum. "Not yet. No, not yet." Her pussy wanted some hard fucking but the boi denied her as he pulled out his cock. He pulled on of the ropes and her leg went upward. Her body tilted sideways as the cold chains draped her. He pushed inside of her again but this time it was much deeper and forceful. Her mouth uttered more moans. "I said, shut the fuck up!!!!" The young boi lashed once more then took his fingers and shoved them beside the big cock. She was sucking his dick while he fucked her.... Two bois fucked her... They began to alternate licking her both separately and simultaneously... each tongue on either side of her clit. Her cum started to roll. "Cum on our fingers bitch." An orgasm of unparalleled contractions began. Her nipples stood and screamed at her throbbing pussy. They were fucking this Domme... they were fucking this Domme!.... they were fuc .... they were.... ... ....... "Yesss!!! Fuck me!!!!! Fuck!!!!!! Ahhhhhh!" The cock fell to the floor when she screamed. Her back arched. She shook and thrashed. They fucked her through every scream and inside of every thrash. Long and hard she came. She came for each fucking butch boi. Each of them had their way with her. One would spread her legs and tease her lips... the other would blindfold her, whipping, tracing with ice cubes this sensitive hot fucking body. Each cock filled her over and over............. When they were done the bois dressed and without a word, they walked out and into the night. She would see them again. Their discipline would be harsh. But no matter how she twisted the power, she knew the truth about her butches. Domme Dreams You walk into my room expecting to see me in a cute little skirt, and a little girl top, just the way you like me. What you get makes your mouth drop open. Standing here, in front of you, is a girl that you can barely recognize, a girl completely transformed by the couple of days she was ignored. This girl is the One that has awakened within me, while I was waiting for your call. This girl, who now looks much older and wiser watches you with a playful expression. I stand with an authoritative presence that was not there the last time we saw each other in a tight, black velvet dress that clings around the soft curves that you've always loved so much, and stops right above my knees. My hair is up in a messy bun, with one streak of blonde spilling out and resting near my cheek. My lips are painted red, but that is the extent of makeup that I've put on. You quickly notice that the red ribbon around my neck looks like a collar, but wisely decide against teasing me about it. I watch intently as your expression changes from the excitement of seeing me, thinking probably that I was just playing with old clothes from my closet, to slight fear and a growing curiosity. I walk up to you and put a finger under your chin, pulling your gaze from my legs to my eyes. "I've been thinking about you too much over the past few days. I don't like it. You don't have a right to consume my mind in this way." "Wh... what... are you doing?" You ask, bewildered. "That's for me to know and you to find out, little girl. From this point, until I say otherwise, you are to call me Miss. Is that clear?" For a moment, you think this is a joke, but as soon as you look into my eyes, you realize that nothing about what I am saying is funny. I am completely serious, and you have no choice but to obey, and deep down, you know you want to. That little girl in you has been begging and clawing to come out, she's been neglected for too long. You are completely at my mercy, and it makes you wet just thinking about it. "Y...yes, Miss." You barely get through your words without stuttering. You're completely at my mercy, and internally fighting yourself for every last bit of the control you had over me only a few days ago. You have absolutely no idea of what is to come, and you half expect me to give up my control soon, like I did the last time you asked me to Top you, leaving you aching for more. "Good girl. Although... that's the opposite of what you've been the last couple days, isn't it? You've been a very, very bad girl." I resist slapping you, feeling the sting of your ignorance seep back into my veins. I fight these feelings, and only let them fuel my desire to control you and what is about to take place. "Tell me you've been a bad girl, darling. Tell me how much you regret it now, or I'll make sure you'll never forget this punishment." I look directly into your eyes as I deliver my command, and I watch as your pupils start to dilate, giving your hesitance away completely. "Yes, Miss. I've been a very bad girl. I'm so sorry, Miss. Please forgive me." "Good girl. Now that's all I want to hear from you today. Understand? I only want to hear "Yes, Miss" coming out of your mouth from now on. Just those two words. You don't deserve to say anything else." Yes, Miss." You swallow hard, completely mystified at what is unfolding. I walk over to my dresser and grab my hairbrush, then make my way to my bed and move the blankets away, so I can sit down on the edge. "Come here, little girl. It's time to get what you deserve." I look at you and motion for you to come to me. "Lie across my lap, with your bottom facing my right hand. You know what I'm going to do to you, and I'm going to need you to count to 10 while I'm doing it. Is that clear?" "Yes, Miss." You are beyond scared at this point, and nervously look behind you at my door, planning your escape, but at the last minute, you decide against it, knowing how furious I would be. So, you do as you're told, and soon enough, you are looking up at me with your face on my bed, completely terrified, yet still becoming more aroused by the minute. "Good. Now slide off your jeans for me." You squirm in my lap as you remove your slightly baggy jeans, making sure to press your knee into my pussy, knowing how much it turns me on, but I am not taking any of your tricks this time. "Did I say you could touch me? No, I don't think I did, and just for that, you're going to be counting to 15. Another one of your little tricks, and we'll double that." I feel you quiver beneath me and it gives me a rush. I've never done this before, and I'm worried that it might be too much for you, seeing as you aren't nearly as much of a pain slut as I am. "Your safe word is red. Use it if, and only if, the pain is getting too much for you. Otherwise, love it, or hate it, either way, it won't make any difference to me. You deserve this." I trace the elastic band of your white cotton panties, and notice the growing wet spot between your thighs. It looks delicious and I have to close my eyes for a moment to get centered again, and keep myself from fucking you right then. I run my hand over your panties, making you hotter, anticipating what I'll do next. As you're pondering this, I pull them down to your knees, and continue my sweet torture. Running my hands all over your bottom, but avoiding where you want my fingers the most: your now soaking wet pussy. Every touch is sending shivers up your body, and making you squirm in excitement. You've wanted this for too long, but this is going to hurt, and you don't know just how much. I pick up the brush from my bed and place it on your ass. You're almost used to the cold plastic, when I pick it up and swiftly deliver the first blow. The slap sends you into a dizzying mix of pain and pleasure, and you cry out as you start to feel the smarting burn, but as soon as the pain starts to fade, another smack is administered. "Count with me, dear." "One... two... th... three... aaaaah!" "I know, baby, I know. It hurts, but you'll take it like a good girl because you know you deserve it. You didn't call me *whack*, you hardly texted me *smack*, and you have shown a complete lack of interest in me *slap* that I really do not appreciate. Count!" "Four... five... six... seven... please! Stop! Please!" You scream and try and squirm out of my lap like a disobedient little brat, but I take both your hands and hold them in place behind your back so you can't escape. "You know your safe word. I won't stop until you say it. But you don't actually want me to stop, do you? No, you don't. Because you love it, and it's what you've been craving, isn't it, little girl? Now let me have my fun and finish these 15 smacks, or I'll add a couple more." "Eight... nine..." At this point, I have beaten every single thought from your head, and with each smack, you are brought closer towards a numb sort of bliss that you've never felt before. I am bringing you inside and outside of yourself. Finally, every dreadfully dark thought that hasn't ceased to plague you is alleviated. You've never felt such freedom, and by the fourteenth smack, you're almost wishing there were more to come, but you know you can't show that kind of submission, so you savor the last hard, smarting strike from the brush and let it transport you to that unknown place you've been steadily moving towards with the help of my anger driven hand. "Aaaah! Fifteen!! Thank you, Miss." You say in a daze, partially glad that you can rest now, unbeknownst that I am not nearly done with you. I pick up the sweet-smelling peach body lotion sitting next to my bed on the desk, squirt a bit on my hand, and start rubbing it into your bright red behind. You get goosebumps all over your body as soon as the cold cream reaches your burning bum, and it feels soothing against the oval marks that have formed everywhere. I've made such beautiful designs. Once I've rubbed the cream into your skin, I move my fingers to your inner thighs. You let out a little moan of pleasure, because you are too spent to form any words, so you just lie there savoring every movement of my fingers, hoping I'll understand what you want. My spanking made you so wet that you started dripping onto my thigh. Now what am I going to do about that? Domme Finds Her Cuck and Bull Joanie, and I had been best friends with Tim and Meg going back over thirty years when we first met standing on the side of a soccer field watching our five year olds. We quickly became close friends, sharing the the trials, tribulations, joys, and disappointments of raising kids. It was fun. They were competent, attractive people weren't afraid to be honest. It was no secret that all four of us found the other's partner attractive too. We joked about all kinds of sexual possibilities, but never did anything other than joke. Then as fate often has it, things turned out to be not so rosy. All the kids were through college and the mortgages paid off when the first shoe dropped. Meg got lung cancer. Neither she nor Tim had ever smoked, but there it was. She was gone in 6 months. About a year after that Joan got a terrible headache at a concert and was taken to the emergency room in an ambulance. After a very long night in the ER with endless questions and tests, they had found nothing specific and discharged her. Tim drove into town to pick us up and get us home, which was a Godsend since neither of had slept at the hospital and were a bit groggy. As we got close to our suburb Joanie suddenly said, "Stop at the IHOP, Tim." The first thing going through my mind was "My God, a few hours ago I'm thinking that I may be losing her and now this woman who only eats organic is wanting to stop at the International House of Pancakes. Did she lose her mind in there?' Tim just said, "Your wish is my command M'Lady," and pulled into the parking lot. Laughing, Joan replied, "I love the sentiment Tim, but be careful what you offer." We hadn't been in an IHOP since the early days of our marriage, before kids, but as soon as my arm stuck to the table in a spot of syrup they missed when they cleaned, it all came back to me. It was a good feeling. The whole world ahead of us and five kinds of syrup. Actually, looking back, our life together had been good by all accountings, but it never really got better than those days. "Boys," Joanie started out, "you're probably wondering why I brought us here." She had a big smile and looked really happy. "I thought I was dying in that damned hospital, but the preparation for the CAT scan of my head put it all in perspective. The x-ray technician warned me that the dye solution they gave me had the effect of making your body feel warm and not to be alarmed by it. It would go away." "A few seconds after it was in me I found myself thinking, alarmed? This stuff feels great. Who'd want it to go away? What they didn't tell me was where my body was going to get warm, but when my insides right down to my pussy started feeling the effects I knew I had to do something." " "You guys can be part of it or not. It's your choice, but I've made mine." It was Tim who broke the silence that followed. "Can you be a bit more specific, Joan?" "Sure. Meg's gone. You, Tim, have been moping around for over a year now since she left us. Tommy's been going round and round the same circles for 40 years and something is going on with my brain and no one knows what." "We're all on Medicare. None of us knows how long we have, but I got the wake up call from a glass of some kind of dye or something. The good times aren't all gone until we give them up. I'm not ready to give them up. I'm not ready to become an old lady without a fight." "Right," I replied, "but Tim and I probably could still use a few more specifics here." "OK, let's get right to it. Last week I read an article in a magazine at the hair salon about hot wives," she went on, "and it turned me on. While I am well past the hot-wife age or even the cougar, I can still feel." "Jesus, Joanie, you can't be serious," I piped in. "Oh I am totally serious, my lovely, reliable, boring husband. I loved the whole idea, but what I couldn't imagine without getting yucked out was being mauled by guys I didn't really know, std's, and strangers coming into our personal lives. "When I saw the IHOP sign it was a blast from the past and I knew that we can solve this. It came down on me like a ton of bricks. Old people don't talk about the past all the time because the past was so great. The world is the world. It was us. We were what was great about the so called good old days." "So here I sit with a gentleman who has had the hots for me for over 30 years and the man I have been married to for those same years, and I am determined to shake things up. What could be more perfect? I have my bull and my cuck." I don't know whether it was Tim or me who blushed the most. We both were speechless. I also noticed for the first time that she'd slipped off a shoe and was rubbing her foot against Tim's crotch as she spoke." "But, I'll only do it if we do the whole thing, a hot wife, a cuckold, and a bull. Full on, in role for six months, then we evaluate and see what we want to do," she finished up looking at the two of us." "Mmmm," she said with a wicked grin, "Timmy, I'll take your, shall we say, nonverbal response as a yes. I've always loved that old saying about a hard man being good to find." Now Tim was really blushing and looking apprehensively at me. "Wait a minute," I said. "Tim gets the beautiful woman, you get a lover who has lusted after you for thirty years, and I get . . .?" Leaning back in her chair Joan said "Don't stop there, Tommy. It gets worse, or maybe better, who knows? You've always made more money than Tim, beaten him at tennis, and when we skinny dipped that time at the shore it was clear that you have a bigger dick, as if that ever mattered a hill of beans to me. Through all that Timmy has been graceful and a good friend. Don't you think it may be time for him to be top dog and to make me a very happy girl at the same time?" Ouch! "Wait a minute, "I cried out, "have I ever been a show off or braggart?" "Doesn't matter, sweetie pie" Joan shot back. "In this play, Tim's part is to turn the tables. I don't know, or particularly care how he feels toward your success, his job is to really get into owning your ass and never letting you forget it. Just thinking about you crawling and being humbled brings back that warm feeling between my legs." She reached over and felt my crotch now. "Tommy baby, your non-verbal answer is pretty clear too, don't you think?" I didn't answer. Then she gave a hard squeeze that startled me as much as it hurt, and it did hurt. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes what?" Joan practically snarled without loosening her grip on my balls. "Yes Maam?" "That's yes Miss to you, boy. Maam feels too old." "Yes, Miss." "Better. While you're at it, thank your new Bull for being so kind as to take on one so unworthy and requiring so much training and discipline as you." By now I wasn't sure where this was going, no one had agreed to anything that I'd heard. When I croaked out a quiet "Thanks Timmy" it felt like I was hearing someone else say it. Before the words were out of my mouth Julie grabbed me by the ear and pulled my head toward her and hissed "That's thank you Timothy, Sir. Thanks is for equals and much too familiar to be coming from you. Also, it's Timothy or Sir. Got it?" I couldn't believe the excitement I was feeling in my body as I answered "Yes Miss." --- When we got home that night Joanie was humming, smiling and said, "This is feeling better and better. What a great idea." By now I was confused, scared, and excited. I couldn't tell what Tim was thinking. And Joan? Joan was rosy cheeked, smiling, and just all around way too happy about this for me. "Get your clothes off, get me a glass of wine, shut up and use your tongue for something useful. Shh! That's right. Right up between my legs. Be gentle now. Slowly. I want to feel good at home." As I obeyed, Joanie started telling me how she saw the situation. "Honey, you've always been a bit of a stuff-shirt, don't you think? A bit too pleased with yourself and your accomplishments I mean." Fortunately, I didn't have to say anything as I was busy in her pussy. "Not your fault really, but worrisome nonetheless. You've spent your life as the entitled white male who started on second base and thought he hit a double. Oh, don't think I'm the only one who's noticed. Meggie and I used to giggle about it. So silly, but sometimes really irritating." "Ooohh, a little slower. No, don't stop. You are such a good listener when you are focused on something important. Timothy and I will have to remember to keep you down where you belong." "So, I realized in that hospital that though we are healthy, we are not going to live forever. I am going to get more of what I want and you are going to get a chance to experience more of the real juice life has to offer." "Oh my oh my, just thinking of all the time and energy I'll have to enjoy getting to know Tim and having some new experiences in bed while you are doing all the work, cooking, cleaning, shopping, chauffeuring, and of course keeping Timothy and me entertained." "Just flick my clit with the tip of your tongue now. Yess!" What was happening here? Was this something I really wanted, even if only subconsciously? Could I stop it? Was this a plot between the two of them? Were they having an affair and this was just a way to legitimize it? Did they really care about me? Was I being set up to be the butt of the joke? How public was this going to get? "Oh, by the way. Looks like our sweet little Meggie had a secret life online where she was "pigslut54" and actually had been chatting with someone right in our town during the last year of her life. Someone who went by "Humili8r" had been giving her assignments which she carried out secretly and send descriptions and pictures of disgusting things she did to do to show what a good girl and filthy slut she really was." Now I'm thinking of Meghan the accountant in her navy blue suit heading off to the office, of Meghan the soccer mom with the perfectly balanced cooler of drinks and snacks always at the ready, of Meghan the travelling companion who always had the right map in her pocketbook and remembered which states allow right turns on red and which don't. pigslut54? For at least a year? "I wouldn't have guessed she had it in her," Joan said with a devilish grin. "I am embarrassed, ashamed actually, that I wasn't a good enough friend that she would have told me about this. I really wish she'd told me about this part of her." Now this was more like the Joanie I knew; kind, loving, ready to support a friend through whatever. I was taken totally by surprise when Joan added, "She and I could have had a lot more fun together in real life than just doing things on the sly and sending pictures. The bitch could have really crawled, begged, and sweated. Can't you just see pigslut rooting around in our flowerbeds with her nose trying to find hidden treasures put there just for her?" "Ah well, a missed opportunity, but guess what Tom. Tim has the transcripts of their chats and they are quite graphic and the pictures really make it clear. Wouldn't it be fun if we picked up that conversation and made you do all the things that Meg, I mean pigslut54, was doing? Just as a taking off point, of course. Actually whoever that dominant was, he or she wasn't all that creative." Fun? Creative? Taking off point? I guess it depends on your perspective. Would Anne really have found it fun? She did go back and forth with this person for months, but with her best friend? I have to admit that while Joanie was away visiting family I have put in more than a few hours on websites trolling for someone to put me through my paces, to "make me" to things that I didn't want to do, to use me making a fool of myself to get off. I too have always been very sneaky and secretive about it. It had always felt more like compulsion than fun to me and some of the things I did are appalling to me. The idea that Anne or I or anyone might do that with someone they know was positively chilling to me. I had to ask, "Joan, what kinds of things come to your mind when you think of dominating your woman friend?" "Oh my, all kinds of things, but you're not just trying to hear turn-on stories are you? Of course not!?!" "The first thing that came to my mind was taking miss prim and proper in her blue suit with the white starched blouse to IHOP, ordering her one of the waffles with the red white and blue stuff on top, adding a couple of syrups, making her eat it with no silverware right down to licking the plate clean." "And after I had unbuttoned her blouse so that I could wipe my hands on it I would tell her just what a mess she had made of herself, sitting for a long time just looking at her, then making her sit still while I cleaned her up with one of the towels that they wipe the tables with. Exquisite!" "Can't you just see her horror at having to do that and why it might fun and a turn-on to be the one making her squirm because she's doing something that she'd never admit she wanted to do? I mean, afterall I wouldn't be making her do it at gunpoint or anything." "Of course, knowing how some of our friends at the club would take to hearing about pigslut54 might give me just a little friendly leverage in helping her be her true self with me," Joanie chortled with that evil grin again. Actually, I could imagine Meghan in that situation and I had to admit it was a funny scene. "But Joanie," I asked, "don't you think that pigslut would be seeking something more . . . uhh?" "Sexual?" she came right back. "Oh you men! Listen carefully while I will still talk to you at some level approaching equals. As someone whose name escapes me right now said, 'In today's society, everything is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.' and I can assure you that had I had the chance to make Meghan do what I just told you about, both of us would have had our panties sopping within a minute. Maybe if she was excited enough I would have let her slip her disgusting sticky fingers into her pussy or maybe not. It would be up to me, and that would have sent pigslut through the roof." "You'll be seeing soon enough, Tommy. You've got a big chance here to get beyond the idea that there can be no sex without sticking your dick into someone or something. Don't worry, you'll still have plenty of cock, but from now on it will be in you." "You can have lots of great sex on your knees with a cock in your mouth or your ass . . . or it can be awful. Learn your place now and enjoy it, or be miserable. It's up to you." That left me in a stew for three whole days before Tim was to come over for drinks and to talk over the agreement that was to be among the three of us. It was a long three days. --- When Tim arrived Joan ushered us into the family room where she directed him to one of the armchairs, took the other herself, which left me with the straight back wooden chair. Apparently, she had gotten some technical help because the big screen TV that she usually had to check the manual to turn on or change channels was connected to her laptop. "Oh goodie," I'm thinking. "visual aids. Maybe a powerpoint. We're having fun now." She went right into it. "Since my inspiration in the hospital and on the way home, I've been doing some homework, both general and personal." "As you know, I was surprised when Tim described finding a trail of conversations and pictures that "pigslut54" had left on Meggie's laptop. I couldn't help but wonder what other surprises might be lurking in the digital world for those of us left." "Gentlemen, the long and short of it is that I found out. Big time! "Tom, do you remember the young computer spook who came in when we realized someone was feeding company secrets to our competitors? The one who called me 'sexy granny'? You know, cute one with the big glasses and curly red hair." I thought a minute. "Oh yeah," I said, "the one who was having trouble with his girlfriend and you spent quite a bit of time helping him get beyond the world of one's and zeros as he put it." "Right," she replied. "I think he is more than a bit Asperger. Kind of like you Tom. That could drive most women nuts, but this girl had laid down an ultimatum. All I did was listen and tell him that she very smart and realistic as well as sexy and loving. He finally took her up on it and he's been quite happy ever since." We sat there what seemed like a long time before Tim asked, "What was her take or leave it offer?" "Oh my, I don't remember all the specifics, but essentially she said he was as bad at relationship and he was good at computers and that he could be totally in charge of his work and she would be in charge of their relationship." To which Tim replied, "that doesn't sound so different from most good marriages to me. What was the big deal?" "The big deal, Tim, was that by in charge she meant in charge. Not expert or consultant, but the one who set the tone, the pace, the rules during non-work time. I have to admit that more than once I had to stifle my voyeuristic urges, make myself quit asking for more specifics of what she made him do, and focus on him. My nipples were hard and panties soaked the whole time he described their situation. The girl knew how to get what she wanted and to have fun in the process. " With a puzzled look Tim tried again, "well, did he like that?" "Oh yes! He loved it, and that was the problem. He loved it and didn't think he should, silly boy. Anyway, enough about them. The most important thing is that he found to guts to drop into what was scaring him, to not resist it." "He is very happy with her and very grateful to me that I helped feel what he really wanted, so when I heard about Meghan/pigslut54 I knew who to ask for help." Both of us were shifting in our chairs uncomfortably now. Turning on the screen, Joan brought up a list of files. "When I asked Aaron if he could help me the first thing he told me was that the people who say there is no privacy are absolutely right. You just have to know how to read the handwriting that is all over the walls." I looked over at Tim and saw that he was sweating. I was feeling a bit sick myself. It didn't take watching the whole show to know in my gut that she had both of us by the balls. The collars were already around our necks and the leashes snapped on. The only question now was where she was going to take us. "Where do you boys want to start?" Joan snarled. "With the secret,sneaky, slimy double life you have led, Tim, unbeknownst to your wife who was wrestling with the same issues and with whom you could partnered in a joint quest?" "With the secret, sneaky, slimy double life you have led, Tom, unbeknownst to your wife who was wrestling with the same issues and with whom you could have partnered a joint quest?" "Or perhaps with your personal email lists?" "Or how about the dossiers of transcripts and photos from your 'secret' internet adventures that are ready to be posted to special Facebook accounts set up specially each of you? No slander or libel or whatever the legal correct terminology is, because it's all just the truth. Neat, huh?" "It's all in here and in several other secure locations, ready to be used." "So . . . back to my idea. Do you want to play 'hotwife-bull-cuck' for a year? I'll write the whole script, don't worry." "Wait a minute Joanie! You said 6 months and you said we could decide," I whined. "It is your decision. Play with me or deal with being outed. Take it or leave it." "As for changing the 6 months to a year . . . I changed my mind. And I think I'll decide whether we want to keep going after that." "Timothy, in or out?" Tim sighed, "I guess I'm in." "Tom, in or out?" "In," I whispered. "Louder cuckyboy. Look me right in the eye and say it." "I am in, Miss." Domme Finds Her Cuck and Bull Joan stood and said with a smile, "Well, now that that's settled, Tim. Time to show the cuckyboy who's his boss now." I looked at Tim and rolled my eyes. He shrugged. "I can't do this, Joan," he started. "Tom has been my friend for years." "Do you doubt the contents of the files of what was found of your online adventures or my commitment to keeping my word about circulating that information? " "No, Joanie, I don't doubt you will. I just need a moment to collect myself." "Certainly Sir," she replied with a big smile." "Tim, for starters, let's drop the Tom or tommy, shall we? It's just too confusing. It will confuse the boy to hear his old name, when you are the Alpha Male around here now." "It will confuse me. Tim, tom, Timmy, tommy, makes me dizzy." "So, let's just figure you're meeting this pathetic cuck who's awaiting his fate in a new role for the first time. Boy, wimp, cuck, cumdump, pigslut,or anything else fitting that comes to mind is his name now." "OK, with the names straight, let's go on to a little attitudinal role adjustment." With this, Joan snapped a wide leather collar around my neck and wrote something on my forehead with a black marker and gave a hard tug on the collar. "cuckyboy, do you remember a little webcam show you did for a certain SlaveMaster86? No? Shall we look at the video? Or, perhaps re-create it right here? Let's do it here so that Master Tim can't see just what a disgusting boy you are so he won't feel quite so squeamish about keeping you in your place," she said with a definite menace in her tone. Actually, I didn't remember SlaveMaster86. There were so many and it was so long ago, back in the Wild West days of Yahoo chatrooms. Moving with relish now, Joanie went on, "Let's see. This tape would indicate that this was happening 2006. Just a wild guess here, but figuring that Slavemaster86 was born in 1986, that would put him at about 20 and you at about 57. Delightful. Did it occur to you that you had a son and a daughter older than that at the time? Are you even sure that it wasn't one of them on the other end of the wire?" A shudder went through me. Actually I had thought of that or something like that. "What did the lad make you, boy? Don't remember? It was indeed a long time ago. Let's re-stage it now. Look behind the desk for your props, subby4U." There was a large blue plastic tarp, a drinking glass, and a bottle of salad oil. "OK, it's showtime!! Are you having fun yet, boys? I am," Joan gleefully giggled. "Watch carefully Tim and see if your feelings for this poor, non-consensual sub cucky change at all." "Spread the tarp. No, leave all your clothes on. I know that isn't exactly how he did it, but this is better. You'll see. Stand right in the middle." "Fill the glass with pee. Hurry up, dickhead. You didn't seem to hesitate when Slavemaster86 was typing in the orders. Let's go, slut. Master and I don't have all night here." So I filled the glass as ordered. "Now, drink it, creep, but don't close your lips around the rim or the glass." Oh, lord! Now I remembered. "That's right. Oh what a messy boy. It's running out of your mouth all over you! Your clothes are a mess." When I'd done this exact thing before I had been naked. Even then I was amazed at how fast hot piss turns very cold, but in clothes it happened even faster and it didn't dry." Joanie was on a roll now with some tips from Slavemaster86. "Oh baby! ," she cried out, "what a wet smelly mess. Take the bottle of perfume and pour it over your head. All of it! That's right. Rub it in everywhere." Thing was that it wasn't perfume. It said salad oil right on the bottle. One kind of cold, wet mess turned into a worse one. "On your knees, cuck! Drop your pants." Turning to Tim, Joan said "There now is your cuck waiting for his bull to own him and take his wife. Take your time. He will be happy to wait all evening on his knees there if that's what you want." "Take a good look at him, naked, soaked in his own urine, slick with oil, collared, marked, kneeling, waiting. Waiting for you to proceed, just as a good, sub, cuck should. Ready to follow your commands. Ready to accept any indignity as appropriate. Easier now?" Looking carefully at me, Tim sounded surprised at himself when he said, "Yes. Definitely." Looking Tim right in the eyes Joan said with great intensity, "You must see to it that the cuck obeys, serves, crawls, cries, begs, suffers, makes a fool of himself and more until he knows his place without thinking, without being told. The old saying about sparing the rod and spoiling the child wasn't good for children, but it's vital for subs and cuckolds." "Your job, Tim," she went on, "is to make him do a perverse limbo dance. Remember that one, where the singer asks how low can you go? That's the tune you're to call until he can't remember he ever danced to a different one." "Do you think you can do that for me, Tim?" Joanie asked in a tone so seductive that I wished with all my heart that the roles were reversed so I could say yes to her. With a funny, sideways look and then a smile he finally said "Yes, I can." I shuddered when he went to the kitchen and came back the biggest wooden spoon we owned in his hand. My once friend who now ruled my life and would be sleeping in what had been my bed with my wife, said "Let's establish who's who and what's what right away. We'll see how much it takes before we have you squealing and then you can roll up in this old army blanket and get some sleep tonight so you can get up early and clean up this mess you've made." "Drop your pants and grab your ankles, bitch." Domme-in-Law It was a cold morning in December and the house was finally empty. I stood for a good few minutes, drinking the last cup of coffee from the oversized commercial maker and soaking up the silence after a week in my's home. Not that things weren't polite with the family, Mrs. Jones, my wife's mother, apparently owned this coffeemaker just on the rare occasion that I'm here, since no one touched the coffee but me each morning. it seemed like no one's schedules quite meshed, and there had been at least one other person in the house at all times since we arrived days prior. Either Tammy's mother was vacuuming a room, or Mr. Jones was wandering around with scotch in hand, seeing if you were watching whatever sporting event was conceivably on at that moment. Finally, on our second Tuesday morning as houseguests, I had at least 2 hours alone. It could have been years as far as I was concerned. I finished my cup and walked up the heavy carpeted stairs to the 2nd floor. My wife and I were waiting for our first house to be finished and needed someplace to stay for the weeklong gap between our lease at the shithole apartment we'd been in and our soon-to-be dream home. Unfortunately, her parent's gracious offer of a guest room for a week had coincided with a freak ice storm, and we were staring down the barrel of an indefinite stay. The situation was starting to wear on all involved, since neither us nor mys had gotten much privacy. I grabbed a women's catalogue from the wicker magazine basket next to the floral print recliner in my Mother's Martha Stewart homage of a home and adjourned to the bathroom that connected to my guest bedroom. It was a full bath, with a door on each end of the room. The door opposite our room opened onto a sitting area at the top of the stairs. I locked both doors and sat down on the toilet with the catalogue, wishing I had real porn. Oh, well, I thought, supermodels in boy-shorts would just have to suffice. As I looked at the pages, my mind started to go off into kinkier territory. Urges like this hadn't come over me so strongly since junior high, and I felt like a schoolboy. I assumed I was just super horny from the situational celibacy and I decided to run with it, chasing my first real sexual pleasure in a week. I had always enjoyed it when Tammy, my wife, played with my ass during a blowjob, and thought I'd take my jack-off session into "wild" territory. Little did I know at the time what "wild" territory even looked like. I slid off the toilet and sat down on the tile, but jumped up almost immediately from the cold on my ass-cheeks. I moved over to the bathmat in front of the tub and started to stroke myself while I tickled my ass. I found a bottle of hand lotion under the sink and squirted some on my fingers and began to slowly finger myself. I had liked Tammy's slight probing, but was still shocked at how much I was liking this. My middle finger flicked against my hole and popped inside. As my finger entered me, I felt my cock growing harder and harder. I began to just stroke the top of my rock-hard cock, petting it as my fingers (two now!) slid in and out of my ass. I noticed I was rocking with it, fucking my hand. It felt good. I bit my lip and got on all fours, bucking my ass against my hand. What the hell had come over me? In a heart-stopping moment, I heard the door to the hallway click. My Mother stood in front of me like a scowling librarian. I'm certain if the bloodrush from blushing could kill, I would have exploded. All of the blood in my cheeks seemed to have been diverted directly from my penis, which had shrunk to a terrible, pathetic size. My fingers were still in my ass. She looked me sternly in the eye and cleared her throat. "Jim, you will get dressed and meet me in my sitting room in five minutes." She turned sharply on her heel and shut the door behind her. It took me at least two of those five minutes to unfreeze from my pornographic pose on the bathmat. I washed my hand and toweled off my still-horrified dick, then went and put my jeans and teeshirt back on. How did I not lock the door? Why the hell was she home? The sheer weight of life-ending embarrassment almost made me vomit, but I walked solemnly to my Mother's room on the other end of the upstairs. There she sat in one of her uncomfortable-looking floral chairs, legs crossed. Her hands rested on her knees, her skirt showing no thigh at all. Stockings, real stockings (of all the things a wife could learn from her Mother....) flowed out from under the black skirt down to what should have been sensible black flats. They had been traded for black leather riding boots, calf length. My Mother-in-law was an attractive woman. Her hair, though surely grey at this point, was dyed perfectly black and coiffed in a 50s style that she had obviously never lost confidence in. Though a bit heavy, she did have curves. I was noticing them now, at possibly the worst time. Her consistently schoolmarm fashion sense seemed to have shifted now into something else. The woman in front of me held the fate of my life, my marriage, everything in her hands...and she looked sexier than ever to me. "Jim, have a seat." There were no chairs in the room. She saw my confusion and added, "On the floor." I sat down cross-legged, unsure what to expect. "Jim, I've always known a few things about you." I felt my face turning red again, my shame burned. "One, you aren't enough of a man for my daughter. Two, she loves you too much for me to tell her that. Now, today I learned something else. That's why I let you have some time this morning, Jim. I knew with a little rope, you'd hang yourself. That's why I drugged your coffee before I left the house, and that's why now we both know what secretly gets you off." I was stunned. "I know you look at older women. Tammy found some magazines when you first got engaged. Women my age, right Jimmy? I guessed foot fetish, but she told me you tried to lick her asshole once. That's a dirty little boy that does something like that to make his peepee hard." Tammy's mother reached behind her chair and pulled out a garment box. She slid it over to me with the toe of her boot. "Stand up, strip naked, and put these on." I opened the box to find panties and a bra. "But...look, Mrs. Jones, about earlier" I mindlessly tried to salvage some control over the situation but was interrupted. "There is no discussion about earlier. I drugged you, but all it did was let out the need inside you. Now we'll work on trying to salvage some pleasure for my daughter's marriage to you. Strip naked, and put on the frilly things." I did as I was told. I marveled a moment that my hardening cock was somehow as embarrassing now as my shriveled dick was earlier. I tucked a shamefully growing manhood into the panties and stood before my Mother. "On your knees." I got down onto my knees and Mrs. Jones stood and walked toward me. I thought I saw a strange sway to her skirt fabric, but wrote it off. In a moment she had her hands on my shoulders, pushing my ass down onto my feet. She took my hands and placed my palms flat on the floor in front of me, so I was leaned out. Her hand stroked the curve of my back, enforcing it, and ended with a small pat on my ass. I was in heaven, and more scared than I had ever been in my life. "Look at me" she said, stepping a few paces out and turning to face me. She stared me in the eye and unhooked something on the side of her skirt. The fabric fell away to reveal her garter belt, no panties, simply straps and fabric framing a massive, 10 inch strap-on cock. The veins were ribbed up and down the monstrous shaft, and the skin tone looked as if she had matched it herself with care. "You, my little boy, are the sexual inferior of my glorious daughter. I could smell it on you when you first asked her out, and if we lived in a real society, I would have turned you over my knee that night and taught you how to serve the way you should. But instead, you just deluded my little princess into thinking she'd found a real man. Silly boypet, your generation is almost entirely the product of single women. There are no real men anymore, just puppies for our procreation, and playthings for our desires. You know it's true, don't you?" As she continued, she began stroking the massive strap-on dangling before her. Her dark red fingernails curled around the head of it, and as her fist tightened she moved her hand down the shaft. Cock poured from her right hand as her left touched under my chin, bringing my eyes to hers. "Don't you feel the conflict in your heart?" She slid her fist back to the base of her shaft slowly, then turned her hand and shifted her weight, digging a finger deep into her cunt. She took her shining finger and wiped a large, clear string of pussy juice onto the head of the dildo. One gleaming drop shone at the tip. "Don't you want mommy's cock?" WIth that, she guided the head of the cock into my mouth, which was slack and open. my panties were full of cum, I could feel it though I didn't touch myself at all. Her hands stroked my throat and she cooed softly to me, her eyes locked to mine, her cocked sliding in and out of my mouth. "That's it, my little cocksucker. I know. Mommy knows. Take it all, sweetie, take all of mommy's big cock...that's right..." I suckled on her cock for what seemed an eternity, tears running from my eyes. Once, she reached behind her and fingered her ass, then wiped it under my nose. "This is training, boypet, not playtime. Mommy needs you to lust for her scent, doesn't she? All her scents. That's a good boypet." I realized I had her cock lodged completely to the harness and hadn't gagged. Something in me had finally accustomed to the activity. "There we are, son. I knew you were made for this. There's hope for you yet, yes. Not the man she deserves, but you may be quite something." She pulled the dick from my throat and pushed me back, my ass resting on my heels. My mother leaned down and kissed me. Her lips were barely an inch from my ear when she whispered "You are about to learn your role in this family, Jim. You thought it would be that of the man, and so did my daughter, no doubt. But you always knew you also needed this, and it's okay. Mommy can give you what you need." She cupped my neck under my chin and pulled my head forward. I moved my hands and shifted my weight until my ass was in the air. Mrs. Jones walked behind me and knelt down. She stroked a finger up my panties then pulled them halfway down my thighs. I heard her squirt a huge amount of lube onto her cock and she began to stroke herself. "My boypet, I know your sex life with my daughter is lackluster. She knows something is missing, and has asked me to fix you. My daughter is a woman of great sexual potential. Trust me, I know. After my training, though, you will belong to me and not her. Someday, I will give you back to my daughter to control, but that's a long way down the road for the both of you. For now, I see this as the best way to begin that journey. Sex can be amazing. After we are done here, you will have fulfilled your desire for this extreme, and can begin to give my daughter a taste of what real men bring to the bedroom. Eventually, you will know and love all kinks from both sides of the power balance. For now, though, you are my sissy, and I think you'll like it a lot." Her fingertips ran down my spine and she pushed against the small of my back, flipping my ass up. I took the hint and got in my best remembrance of a pin-up pose. Her middle finger slipped into my ass, testing the waters. I moaned. She guided the head of her cock to my hole and pushed in. As the tip popped inside me, she stopped. A hand reached up and took my throat as my mother leaned up to whisper in my ear, "You are mine, and my cock is your drug. I will make you crave this, boypet, and your sweet cunt will ache to be filled by it." With her fingers still around my throat, she slid her cock deep into me, rooting herself into my sexual desires as she forced inch after fleshy inch into my ass. Once she was buried to the hilt, her laugh filled the room and she paused her fucking. "That was the front door, boypet. Tammy, darling? Is that you? Come upstairs!" I looked up from my reverie to see my beautiful wife holding her Christmas shopping in the doorway to the room. Without missing a stroke, my mother pulled almost out of me, then drove her dick back inside, forcing out a moan from me inspire of myself. I heard the bags hit the floor as my cock let go a spurt of cum into the carpet. "Shut the door and come here, Tammy. It's supposed to snow again this afternoon, and your father should be back soon." "Jim?" Tammy had tears in her eyes as she looked toward the point where her mother's thick cock was vanishing into my newly minted fuckhole. "Jim, I'm sorry to have set this up, but I hoped...I..." "It's okay" I started to say, but her mother cut me off. "He loves his mommy's cock, don't you boypet?" I looked from my wife back over my shoulder to the proud woman who's veiny dick was splitting my asshole apart and fulfilling sexual fantasies i had only begun to dream about. I looked back at my wife through my own tears as my Mother pressed her cockhead against my prostate and a voice from far away poured out of my mouth. "Yes, please ma'am...I love my mommy's cock!"