Freedom is Slavery (6 page)

There was no negotiating or verbal sparring. There was no polite offer of tea, coffee, or wine. Things fell into place like a puzzle piece finding its slot.

Without ceremony, Dee began liberating herself of most of her outfit. Marla started to do the same then looked over at me. "Put your clothes on the shelf by the radiator."

I had been trained well enough by the women that I had served previously to know better than to affect an attitude of shock and awe. I knew my place in this kind of situation, despite never having been in one before, and did what I was told, removing every inch of clothes and, with it, any artifice of control. Naked, I knew I was not in charge of anything any longer and belonged completely to these two ladies until told otherwise.

It was chilly in the loft at first. I wasn’t cold for very long after the blows began to fall. I was bound to the crux decussata. Marla and Dee took turns using various implements on my flesh, starting with a flogger and moving on to a riding crop, small belt, and even a wooden spoon. They started off slow but soon were determined to see how long and hard they could beat me until I begged for mercy.

Marla’s body was incredibly tight. Her gray hair was cut short in a spiky ‘do’ that gave her a lot of sass. Her blue eyes shone with glee as she administered blows to my ass; I could see the look reflected in the mirrored wall before me. I prayed that neither she nor Dee would blindfold me; it was wonderful seeing them strut their stuff, working up a sweat as they beat me. Occasionally Dee would opt out of the beating and stand in front of me, my eyes level with hers. She’d reach between the crux of the St. Andrew’s Cross to find my penis, half hard between being turned on and being in pain. She’d take me to full mast with her hand, staring me down while she manipulated me expertly.

"You like that, huh, slut?" she hissed, her husky voice making me harder. "Did you get hard when you saw us at the club tonight? Did you think about getting down on your hands and knees right there and kissing our feet? Did you want to put your face between Marla’s ass cheeks and lick her tight hole? Tell me, slut. Tell Miss Dee everything."

And, as the lash fell across my stinging, hot bottom, I confessed my sins. I admitted to how flush with excitement I was when I saw them and to the carnal sins I committed in my mind. Her skilled hands took me up the flights of stairs of my orgasm but stopped just before I jumped off the roof. She repeated this process several times as Marla continued to redden my flesh.

The slap of the lash was replaced by an odd buzz. I looked in the mirrored wall to see Marla with a new toy—a long white-handled tool topped with a purplish globe at the end. She applied it to my backside and I wailed out of surprise and a newfound sensation of pain as electricity seemed to rip through me.

"Shhhhh," Marla chided as she put her cool hand on my warm neck.

Her touch was reassuring. I realized that this was the first time she had touched me. Her hands were soft but firm. She grasped to steady me as she applied the violet wand once again to the backs of my thighs. I tried to not wail as loudly as before, pushing air through my clenched teeth as the electricity crackled over me.

She held the wand to my thighs, my low moan turned into a sharp cry and finally I begged for mercy. She continued to shock me as she decided if she would show me any mercy or not.

Finally, she stopped the current. She began unbuckling me from the cross while Dee did the same. Weakened, they lead me to a low table in the middle of the room, laying me down on the padded surface.

Dee moved my feet up so that my knees were bent and my legs were open. I stared dumbly at the ceiling until I felt something cold and hard pushing against my anus. I looked down to see Marla holding the full enema bag in one hand while she inserted the nozzle with the other. I felt so vulnerable and humiliated as she opened up the flow and allowed water to enter me, flooding my bowels. I was even more embarrassed when the sensation set off my cock, making it hard enough for her and Dee to comment about.

Dee lackadaisically masturbated me as I filled with fluid. I began moaning from the pleasure of Dee’s hand mixed with the pleasure / pain / discomfort of the enema.

Marla squeezed the bag to flood me with the last of the liquid. "Hold tight," she said, while slowly pulling the nozzle free.

I clenched as tight as I could, trying to hold the liquid inside of myself.

After she put the equipment down, Marla moved to the head of the table. She put her hands on my cheeks, lightly caressing me as she looked down into my eyes. She could see my panic and excitement.

"You’ll feel the pressure build, almost as if the water never ceased. When it gets to be too much for you to handle, you need to ask for release. When that time comes, I may or may not allow you to use the restroom by the entrance. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head as much as I could, my voice struggling to get out of my throat. She smiled and patted my cheek before walking out of my field of vision.

Despite Dee’s hand on my cock, I felt utterly isolated, staring up at the ceiling and thinking only of the rumbling in my gut. I was torn between the pleasure of manipulation and the discomfort building inside.

Finally, I had to plead for release. I was granted the privilege of using the loft’s restroom. I was mortified by the sounds that must have been coming out of that room but managed to get over it with the sheer relief of evacuating.

When I sheepishly returned, Marla had me get back on the table. This time she strapped me down; one across the chest, one at the waist, and one at the neck. My legs were free only momentarily before they were pushed back and Dee wrapped a strap around each ankle that were then put behind my thighs, effectively keeping my knees bent. She smiled at me after she did this, the first time I had seen her truly smile all evening.

Dee then removed her underwear, revealing a steadily hardening circumcised penis. She continued to smile at me and I jumped as I felt the cool wetness of lubrication being applied to my now-exposed opening by Marla’s sure hand.

Dee moved closer to me and ran her stiffening cock across my lips, pushing insistently against them until I opened my mouth and allowed her to access the warm wetness. I felt the smoothness of her hot flesh against my tongue as she grew inside of me. She took the back of my head in her hands and began pulling me, still restrained against the bonds, back and forth along her shaft as she effectively fucked my mouth.

Why this particular act of debauchery affected me so, I’m unsure. Being taken by Dee in this manner sent me reeling, especially to be used like this in front of Marla. I felt as if the rest of the night’s events could have been "laughed off" as an amusing bit of play but having my mouth violated like this took things to a different level.

Let’s not kid anyone, I loved the feel of Dee’s cock in my mouth, and hearing her breathe through her clenched teeth made me want to suck her with as much vigor as my bonds would allow.

Meanwhile, Marla teased and played with my asshole, opening it with her fingers until a signal passed between her and Dee at which time, Dee removed her cock from my mouth and made her way to the end of the table, which was at the right height for her to enter my waiting rosebud.

As she pushed her cock towards my waiting hole, Marla climbed up onto the table and rested her pantied pudendum on my mouth and nose, allowing me to smell the heady aroma of her excitement. This helped ease the discomfort I felt as Dee entered my behind, her hands grabbing onto my legs and pulling me onto her.

Around the sides of Marla’s thighs, I heard Dee grunt as she went deep inside of me sending a shudder of pain mixed with pleasure through my entire body. Someone, I’m not sure who, held on tight to my cock.

Marla pushed herself harder against my face until she reached a point where I knew my nose must have been against the clitoris under her panties. She pressed harder, then lighter, then harder again, fucking herself against my proboscis as her friend fucked my ass.

Dee began to get more intense, her thrusts harder and deeper, while Marla continued to bump her love button against my nose faster. The hand on my cock gripped tighter. I couldn’t take it anymore and, despite trying to ask permission against the gusset of Marla’s panties, I erupted. The hand on my cock squeezed and milked me through orgasm and soon my ears were filled with the muffle stutter cry of Marla as she reached her own climax on top of me. Dee followed suit just a second thereafter, her cock twitching and jerking inside of me.

The ladies slowly got off and out of me. I lay there, dazed, while Marla fetched a warm washcloth for me to clean up with. Playtime now over, she walked me downstairs and gave me directions back to my car.

I was both turned around and boggled by the events of the previous two hours.

The following Monday at work, Marla didn’t say anything or act any differently towards me. We continued our pleasant working relationship from then on, but every Friday night (until the company relocated her) we would meet at The Grasshopper and adjourn back to her loft for more extracurricular activity.

The local free magazine hosts a wide variety of interesting personal ads. The one that caught my eye a few weeks back started with the line: "Open-Minded Wet Nurse."

A woman was renting out her lactation ability. A visit to the URL provided, along with a few phone calls, shed some more light on the offer. The woman, Mistress Sue, also provides a wide array of other fetish fulfillment but her "hook" is her continued lactation.

Having never tasted breast milk, I was incredibly curious. Moreover, I had some great conversations with Mistress Sue. Though she’s a professional Dominatrix, she didn’t put on the typical airs that so many unprofessional professionals tend to do. No "bow, yield, kneel!" from the word go. Instead, we talked like two rational human beings, discussing our likes, dislikes, and curiosities.

When we met, Mistress Sue wore a lovely red outfit of lace. A bustier, thigh high stockings, garters, and panties.

She welcomed me with a hug and a whisper in my ear: "There’s Mommy’s little slut."

My knees melted a bit at her words while other parts of me stiffened significantly. She helped me out of my clothes and into a pair of pink panties.

"Oh, she’s such a cute little girl," she cooed, rubbing her long fingernails over the silky drawers.

Mommy laid me down on a king-sized bed. The room was darkened, lit only by candles. I could smell the soft scent of her skin, feeling the warmth of her fingers as she pulled my testicles out from the panties and attached a set of electrodes. She sat next to me, her fingers toying with my nipples, sending ripples of desire through me along with a slow, low current of energy that built. She kept her eyes locked to mine, breathing in time with me as I began to feel the prick of electricity build to what felt like a steady thump against the underside of my cock, as if it were a metronome.

She lowered the intensity of the electricity before lifting one of her breasts out of her bustier. "Is my baby hungry?"

I nodded, unable to speak, so excited by the idea of what might occur next.

She lowered her breast to above my mouth and, squeezing on either side, sprayed a thin stream of warm, sweet milk onto my waiting tongue. It was wonderful. I felt it run down my tongue and I savored the taste all along its path. She sprayed again and then put her nipple into my mouth. I sucked and suckled, trying to find the way to get her milk from her breast. I worked her breast as best I could until I finally found a way to get the milk out with the pressure of my mouth.

Mommy began satisfying my thirst, my hunger, my lust, with her delicious breast milk. I could feel it dripping down my tongue and I swallowed. She took the breast away and I nearly cried like an infant until she replaced it with her other breast. She switched off several more times, allowing me to suckle at her teats for a good long while.

I won’t say that I was satisfied when she took her breast away for the last time because I don’t think that I could ever be sated from that. I wanted to do it all night long. But, she had different things in mind.

She put a pacifier in my mouth before moving to the foot of the bed. I stared up at the ceiling as she busied herself. She tugged down my panties before she lifted up my legs. She told me to hold them up and I complied. Cool wetness fell over my exposed asshole, followed soon by a gloved finger.

I moaned around the pacifier as she entered into me with one finger and then two. I looked down to see her smiling as she manipulated my opening. She pushed my legs higher and replaced her fingers with the head of a strap-on dildo.

"Mommy’s baby needs to be fucked," she taunted before pushing into me.

She fucked me deeply, moving up close and resting her body on my erection. As she moved in and out of me, the friction from her flesh on my cock was wonderful. It felt like I was being fucked from behind and stroked from the front.

She looked down at me, fucking me, on top of me, and told me, "I want my little slut to make a mess on Mommy’s belly." With those words and the pressure/pleasure below, I was over the edge.

With each pump of me, she was pumping cum out of my cock and onto her flesh. "Oh, you’re making Mommy all sticky," she moaned, feeling the warm wetness between us.

She spread the wetness of my cum over her now-bare breasts and stomach, her cock still inside of me. She slowly slid out before removing the condom on the rubber cock and moving up next to me. She removed the pacifier from my mouth and replaced it with the dildo, allowing me to suck on it while she stroked my hair. When she was satisfied with that, she took the cock out of my mouth and allowed me to feed a little more on the milk from her breasts. As I suckled, she hummed quietly, making me feel completely safe, comfortable, and at ease.

I was in New York for an Interactive Conference. It was a bore. I was complaining about the waste of my time to one of my Midwestern friends and she mentioned that she might have the perfect distraction for me. By 8 o’clock that night I had been essentially "set up" to meet a native New Yorker at the Angelica Theater down town.