‘Yes, it feels good, doesn’t it, Shelly?’
I nodded weakly and performed a tiny, careful curtsey.
‘Now, put your hands behind your back.’
With my cock screaming for release from its metal and rubber prison, I obeyed, my eyes once more drinking up the sweet image of my naked Aunt Jane, a vision of mature feminine beauty to which I was now completely and utterly subject.
I watched as she took one of the stockings from the bed.
‘Place the palms of your hands together, so that your hands are pointing down to the floor.’
I did as she ordered. She stepped behind me. Seconds later, I felt the stocking being pulled over my hands and then up over my wrists. Then, it was pulled right up over my elbows until it was near the tops of my arms. I cried out with a very real discomfort as my elbows were forced to touch and my shoulders were stretched painfully towards each other. Suddenly, arousal was overwhelmed by a very real fear.
‘Remember, Shelly, this is all about restraint and control – the heart of your submission.’
I nodded warily as my aunt then took the thick roll of masking tape from the bedside table, pulled a strip free and began to wind the tape around my wrists and up my arms, pulling my arms even closer together and producing more pronounced moans of discomfort. And very soon, my nylon-sheathed arms were covered from the wrists to within a few inches of my shoulders in a cocoon of tightly wound tape, and thus totally immobilised; a very strange, immediate and frightening bondage that left my sissy heart thumping with awful apprehension.
I had never felt so absolutely helpless, so exposed and subject to control. I had never felt so excited!
Yet this was only the first stage. Next, my aunt took a pair of her gorgeous white silk panties from the drawer of the bedside table and held them before me.
‘A gag,’ she purred, her eyes burning into mine. ‘Something you need to get very used to.’
I watched in utter astonishment as she proceededed to rub the panties into her soaking sex, covering them in her private juices.
‘Now…open up.’
I obeyed without question, and my aunt rolled the panties up into a ball and rammed them with some force deep into my mouth. My eyes widened even further and the now familiar taste of her cunt flooded my mouth. The soft silk material then rapidly expanded to fill my mouth completely. My aunt took the roll of masking tape and tore a relatively short strip from it before ordering me to force my lips together. She then quickly spread the length of tape over my lips, sealing them tightly together and plunging me into a new black pool of masochistic excitement. To be so completely silenced was to be subject to the most severe control. I virtually swooned with delight as my aunt, her gorgeous, naked form bathed in a film of pungent sex sweat, tore off two longer strips of tape and spread them over the top and bottom of the existing strip, thus covering the whole of my lower face in masking tape.
‘Perfect,’ she whispered, her splendid, plump breasts rising and falling at the speed of sex, her hazel eyes filled with the flames of a very cruel passion.
My sex reared up before her like a maddened colt and a bolt of very real pain shot through it as the wicked metal rings did their terrible work. I was bound and gagged, utterly helpless before my stunning goddess, and I was lost in a wild, bottomless sexual pleasure.
Aunt Jane then led me towards the large double doors of the walk-in closet. As I tottered forward, my arms lashed, my mouth taped, I felt the plug move inside me, a truly bizarre and erotic sensation that made each sissy step a dreadful arousal.
My aunt threw back the doors of the closet and flicked on an orange light to reveal a garden of feminine delights. I gasped into my tight, pungent gag at the sight of two long rows of dresses, blouses and coats, slacks, skirts, beautiful slips and petticoats, a massive array of expensive, gorgeous attire, most of which I had never seen her wear.
‘I’ve collected a lot of stuff over the years,’ she mumbled, looking contemplatively into the orange-tinted darkness. ‘Nothing fits me now, of course, but I can’t bare to part with any of it. Now, get down on the floor, face down.’
I hesitated and was immediately rewarded with a very hard slap to my backside. ‘On your knees!’
Her hands gripped my shoulders and pushed me down to my knees. I squealed with terror, sure I would topple forward and bang my head, but she held me firm and then very carefully helped me to lay face down in the middle of the closet.
My naked, tethered form rested against a soft, very thick white carpet, and my rubber- and metal-imprisoned sex felt as if it were suddenly being enveloped in the teasing fur of some strange sex animal.
No sooner was I positioned than I felt the second stocking being hauled over both my feet. It seemed my legs were to be cocooned in exactly the same way as my arms!
The stocking could only be dragged as far as my lower thighs, but as soon as it was in position, my aunt used more masking tape to tightly bind my ankles and knees. Then, to my further amazement and some considerable dismay, she grasped my ankles and hauled them up towards my buttocks, forcing them downward painfully so that the heels of my feet pressed into the tops of my thighs. I squealed with genuine pain as Aunt Jane then proceed to use the roll of tape to bind my ankles very tightly to my thighs, sliding the roll of tape beneath my thighs and then up over my ankles until I was very effectively sealed in a terribly robust and strict hogtie. This had the effect of pushing the plug even deeper into my arse and inspired even more high-pitched squeals of ambivalent sissy pleasure. Yet even this was not the end of my bondage ordeal. For as soon as my knees were secured to my thighs, she wrapped my already nylon-sheathed and taped wrists to my lower back, rolling the lengths of tape beneath my body so that my naked stomach was soon also semi-cocooned in the powerfully adhesive tape.
Then, finally satisfied, she stepped back. Not that I could see her. Not that I could in fact move even an inch! All I could do was lie in this awful, taped position and moan desperately into my fat panty gag, my brutally restrained cock pressing into the carpet, my heavy, sex-fuelled breathing filling the room, the sound of my pounding heart filling my head.
‘You’ll spend the night here, Shelly. It will be hard and uncomfortable, but it will also be a very important lesson in control and submission. You probably won’t sleep, but at least you will have the taste of me to keep you company.’
Her words appalled me and I squealed loudly in protest and horror, attempting to wiggle towards her, but quickly discovering that the tape prison I was trapped within allowed not even the tiniest of movements. Tears filled my eyes as my aunt walked from the closet and then, to my further horror, switched off the orange light, plunging me into a darkness only relieved by the light of the bedroom. But then this too was shut out when my aunt, after whispering a teasing ‘sweet dreams’, closed and locked the closet door.
I lay in total darkness, very tightly bound and gagged, hardly able to move a muscle. I sobbed and wiggled uselessly, then squealed angrily. But all to no avail. Indeed, all that my struggles ensured was that the plug would push deeper into my arse and that I became even more tormented by the evil power of the rings.
I was entombed for the rest of the night. Lost in utter blackness. As there were no windows, I would not even know when daybreak hinted at the time. Quite deliberately, my aunt was subjecting me to a dreadful ordeal by bondage and sensory deprivation. The first lesson: the importance of restraint. The first lesson of my new enslavement.
Yet after a few minutes, the fear began to fade. Under the terrible influence of the plug and the teasing memories of my aunt’s splendid body, desire began to have its way with me. The taste of her filled my mouth, the touch of her lingered on my sissified body. Her perfume impregnated the air with traces of her stunning, naked form. Even this dreadful test was, ultimately, arousing.
And after a while, I found myself falling into a strange half-sleep, a sex trance through which many fantasy figures walked. Lady Ashcroft, the drea
dful bringer of this new enslavement, the plump visage of Miss Gillette and the imperial beauty of my gorgeous, now all-powerful aunt. And then there were the strange joys of this intricate bondage. To be made so utterly helpless, to be placed in such a state of objectness, to be subject to such extreme control. As the thick tape had been wrapped around my sissy form, I had secretly purred with pleasure. And now, despite the discomfort and the fading fear, I was even more in love with Aunt Jane than ever before, the love of a devoted and desperate slave who breathed, even through a pungent panty gag, only to serve his mistress.
* * *
It was a few days after this terribly kinky adventure that everything changed once again, when destiny pushed my sissy form into the arms of Dominic Hartley.
Since my ordeal in the closet, the masochistic pleasure taken in my subservience had deepened considerably. I had been untied some eight hours after being locked in the closet and had emerged shocked, numbed and terribly aroused. Indeed, since that fateful night I had become even more feminine and submissive in my movement, manners and behaviour, a fact my aunt observed with obvious pleasure and which she acknowledged by becoming even more dominant and controlling.
There had been no more bondage ordeals, but that very morning I had been pulled across her knee and spanked with a hairbrush for no other reason than my tie was deemed to be ‘crooked’. I wiggled into school with my buttocks aflame and my sissy heart aflutter, my tightly restrained cock (not unleashed since its exciting imprisonment in her bedroom) pressing angrily against the white silk and elastane panty girdle that Aunt Jane insisted I wear over the body stocking to hide my now constant bulge from public view.
So, perhaps not surprisingly, I was in a sex trance when I walked into my form room and collided with Dominic, knocking a can of coke from his hands and sending it spinning across the floor. Other than the two of us, the room was empty. I often arrived early, but why Dominic was there, I had no idea.
‘You stupid fool!’ he shouted.
I squealed in shock and tried to mumble a terrified apology. Dominic and I had been friendly on and off ever since he had arrived in the sixth form a few months previously. He was a very attractive, if slender teenager, who was regarded by many as the cleverest boy in the school. With longish blond hair and piercing blue eyes, he was a favourite of the girls, yet, almost inexplicably, had no girlfriend.
Dominic was the only male ‘friend’ I had made at school, yet although we spoke often and even shared a table at lunch, our friendship was slight, a convenience – two outsiders drawn to each other by loneliness. Yet even as he shouted at me, I noticed something very strange in his eyes when he looked at me. Not the contempt or fear of the others, but rather, something much nearer desire.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I mumbled. ‘Let me try and dry it off.’
I took a hanky from my sissy trousers, a pink, scented hanky given to me that very morning by my smiling, teasing and utterly incredible aunt. I dabbed at his damp jumper. He pushed my hands away. Then, for some strange reason I have never been able to truly fathom, I ran my fingers across his soft, bronzed cheek. His eyes widened, he stepped back. Horror filled his eyes. But then it suddenly disappeared. He stepped forward. At first I thought he was about to hit me, but then, to my utter astonishment, he leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse with sex.
I felt my tightly restrained sex complain bitterly, my heart jump into my mouth and my knees buckle.
Then he grabbed my arm and pulled me into the classroom. Before I could resist he pulled me inside a storage cupboard, flicked on the light and closed and locked the door.
Then he embraced me, covering my face in kisses, his free hand slipping between my legs. His strength and desire were both very surprising, and I did nothing to resist him.
‘I’ve wanted to do this for so long,’ he mumbled, sensing my own arousal.
All I could think to say was, ‘I’m sorry about your jumper.’
He hesitated, then a rather wicked smile crossed his handsome face. ‘Yes, you’ve ruined my jumper. You need to be punished.’
I looked at him in amazement, then realised that he wanted to play an erotic game.
I smiled back and pretended to be frightened. ‘No…please,’ I whined, as he stepped forward. ‘Don’t hurt me.’
‘You need a good spanking,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. ‘The only fitting punishment for a pansy.’
Although he was not tall, maybe only an inch or so higher than myself, when he grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him, I felt a real and very exciting physical power. He lowered himself onto a wooden stool used to reach the upper shelves and then effortlessly pulled me over his knees. I felt his large, hard sex press into my stomach and a wave of arousal wash over me. A memory flooded my tormented sissy mind: the memory of the hungry eyes of the decorators, of the teasing looks of men on the streets, of the impact my feminine beauty had on men, and of the very strong excitement this impact inspired in me.
His hands fumbled with my belt, and I knew a terrible truth was about to be exposed. What on earth would he make of my undies!
He pulled my trousers down over my backside and a gasp of surprise filled the room.
‘What’s this!’ he gasped, his voice now lined with a thick treacle of desire. ‘Panties? Frilly panties and tights!’
‘Please, don’t…I have to wear them…my aunt makes me…’
‘Your aunt?’
There was a terrible erotic silence, his breathing hard, deep, sexual.
Then he hauled the panties down to my thighs and discovered the tight, shining panty girdle.
‘She certainly makes sure you’re well wrapped up!’ He laughed, his voice once again riddled with sexual excitement.
Then something even stranger happened. His free hand suddenly spread over my girdled bottom. Not in a rough way. No: quite obviously in a very sexual way. Suddenly, he was caressing my bottom!
‘I’ve watched you for a long time,’ he whispered. ‘Seen the way you look at the boys, seen that pansy tease in your eyes.’
His hand slipped between my nylon-sheathed legs and I couldn’t resist a moan of genuine pleasure.
‘Yes, this is what you want, isn’t it, pansy.’
I tried not to nod, but then he raised his hand and brought it down in a loud, painful slap on my backside. I squealed and he shouted, ‘ISN’T IT!?’
A mumbled a shocked, aroused ‘yes’ and he laughed even louder.
Then he spanked me. Ten very hard, painful slaps that left me sobbing for mercy and his cock digging into my belly like a red-hot sex poker.
Then he made me stand up and remove my trousers, jumper and shirt. He ordered me to put my hands behind my back and stand to attention, causing my pretty befrilled panties to fall down around my nylon-sheathed legs to my ankles. His big blue eyes devoured me and I nearly fainted with violent sexual arousal.
‘You’re gorgeous,’ he mumbled, shocking me even further. ‘No wonder your aunt put you in panties.’
Then I looked up at him, holding his sex-streaked gaze and feeling his need. I wiped the tears from my eyes, smiled weakly and knelt down between his legs. Why I did this, I still don’t know; but from the second our eyes locked, I saw the truth of him and the truth of me – the truth of terribly repressed and very dark desire.
My hands began to work on his zipper. At first he tried to push me away, but his efforts were half-hearted and I was determined to have my way.
He gasped with a savage, helpless pleasure as I slipped my hands inside his trousers and sought out the hot, hard length of flesh that was his erect cock.
As I took it in my hands, I felt both a deep sissy pleasure and, also, a strange sense of power – the power of the desired object. The feel of another male sex was both deeply strange and violently erotic. The hot, rubbery flesh of another, the most intimate contact. My heart pounding, my mind focused on the testin
g and mysterious task ahead of me, I slipped his cock from his underpants and out of his trousers. And there it was: presented in its full, aroused glory, a very large, thick male sex organ, crimson, circumcised, disturbingly beautiful.
I took it in both hands and then looked up at him. His eyes burnt into me, a furious, utterly helpless excitement. Now he was begging me.
‘Please,’ he gasped, ‘please…’
I felt like a man about to jump from a plane at twenty thousand feet, a vast leap into a great and exciting unknown, the final confession of an always secretly known fact: my bisexuality.
I lent forward and kissed the hot head of his cock; just once, a tender, sissy kiss. He screamed with shock and pleasure and continued to beg. Then I slipped my lips over the head and his scream turned into a loud animal moan of complete surrender. I pulled myself up a little higher and then took as much of his cock into my mouth as was physically possible. Then I began to suck.
He squirmed in the chair and I gagged on his rampant, considerable manhood. A sense of true femininity washed over me. I was a pretty girl servicing her man, giving him the pleasure his being demanded every day. I felt my own restrained and girdled cock fight its dreadful erotic imprisonment. A familiar bolt of punishing pain shot up its rigid length as the rings bit into a suicidal tumescence.
‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ he cried. ‘I’m coming. I’m fucking coming…’
And he came. Screaming with a black cosmic despair, he filled my mouth with hot, salty cum, and I swallowed every last drop, taking it deep down inside me like some strange potion that would ensure my sissification for ever and a day.
Then, slowly, with a frightening coolness, I pulled myself free of his cock, wiped the trickles of cum from my pretty lips and rose to my feet, the taste of him filling my mouth and my soul.
He had collapsed back into the chair, his eyes wide, his body twitching. Almost dead, perhaps; but not quite.
Company of Slaves Page 8