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The First
Year of Marriage
Eric turned
18 this past Saturday. More than a year and a half has passed since his
mother died and he became my guardian. More than a year and half has passed since I first seduced him and then enslaved
him to me. I am his entire life. He doesn't know anyone,
does not even have a high school diploma, no skills other than those
domestic---it's almost as if he were a mail-order groom from a foreign
country! The very thought is exciting to me, knowing how completely I
have arranged and control his life. He is the proverbial fly in my the spider's web, but one that is never eaten, just
forever controlled and used. When I first seduced Eric, he was
virginal and innocent. Now he is just innocent because I am 37 and
everything he has ever experienced about our very special kind of love and
sex has been taught to him by me. I will be the only
woman he will ever experience in that special way. As a tall,
athletically-inclined woman (6'2", 165 lbs), I love to dominate my young friend
in every way I can. He, in contrast, is only 5'6" and
140 lbs. When I wear my 4-inch black boots, which is often, I tower
over him by 10 inches. Eric's boyish looks and impish
smile make a wonderful contrast with my amazonian
power over him.
When
his 18th birthday arrived, I told Eric we would first celebrate and then
we would be married. I had a number of gifts to give him. They
included some new domestic outfits for around the house. Until
then, when Eric, my slave, would take care of the house---cleaning,
fixing, gardening---I had required him to wear a
pink satin corset, pink shoes, pink hosiery, a maid's hat and
apron. Now I gave him the same outfit in a new more
colors: baby blue, lavender, and bright red. He could now
choose what to wear, except, of course, on those days he wasn't allowed to
choose. To truly celebrate his birthday, however, I told
him we would take the day off from mundane household work (although
there is nothing mundane about watching a boy of 18 dust
and vacuum in a pink corset!) and make love for 18 straight hours. That
would mark his passing into the age of "manhood," even
though I would never call it that. And so we did. We got
a good night's rest, put an ice chest of food in my bedroom, and began 18
straight hours of lovemaking. It wasn't all activity of course.
There were periods of rest and short naps, but for 18 hours we
played sexual bondage and discipline games of every kind. Eric was
forced to bring me to more than a dozen orgasms and I brought him to half as
many. At the end, we fell asleep for more
than 12 hours.
When I
told Eric that now he was 18 we would be married, he cried with
joy. "Oh, Miss Helen, I love you so much. I can't
wait to be married to you." I, on the other hand, said to slave
Eric, "You understand, of course, that it doesn't change anything
here. I will still dominate our relationship and you must
still obey everything I demand?" He said he perfectly
understood and would not have wanted it any other way. I explained
further: "Eric, our marriage ceremony will be small and private, at
a Justice of the Peace some distance from here. Afterwards, however,
we will have another commitment ceremony here at the house. Ellen
and Heather will attend. We will exchange a set of vows I have written
for us and I will give you tokens of our marriage." (Ellen and
Heather were special friends who knew about and approved of the special
relationship I had with Eric.) Eric thought that
wonderful wedding day. I added: "We will also have
some special wedding pictures taken here, some traditional but some more
reflective of our true relationship. I found an open-minded photographer
who understands what I want."
"Yes, Miss Helen." Eric isn't thrilled about the
prospect of exposing himself to others, but he understands he has no choice but
to obey.
The
following week we drove halfway across the state to courthouse of one of
the larger cities. I wore a tasteful black conservative suit with a pair
of black boots underneath. I had bought for Eric a pure white suit and
tie, with lacy white woman's underwear underneath. When our turn came, I
discussed with the Justice of the Peace our desire for small quiet
wedding. I told him that we wanted to word "obey" to be
included in Eric's vows. The judge raised his eyes at this, but Eric
merely stated, "oh, yes sir, I like it that
way." I am not sure whether the look the judge gave Eric was pity,
disgust, or envy, but it didn't matter. That was why we drove half-way
across the state. We were done quickly after. I promised to
"love and cherish" Eric, and indeed I would because there wasn't a
man alive who could hold a candle to him now for me. Eric promised to
"love, honor, and obey." We put on our rings, kissed deeply
(which must have been quite a sight in light of the height advantage I had over
Eric (or the judge for that matter), and left for home.
It was
I had Eric
remove his panties first, however. I had originally thought he would keep
them on, but I decided at that moment that he needed to be totally exposed
before me, albeit with the humiliation of stockings, gartars,
and a collar. In the center of the living room, before my friends, Eric
kneeled before me and read his vows---something I had written a year ago---out
loud: "Mistress Helen, I promise to love, cherish, and obey you, to
worship you as my superior, to be placed in bondage to you, to be displined as you see fit, to take care of all your needs, to
be humiliated by you if that is your pleasure, to love no other, to submit to
no one else unless you so command, to truly whatever it is you desire, to in
fact be your slave in every sense of the word for the rest of my natural
life." He then handed the leash attached to his collar to me.
It might have seemed a little corny to some, but I was so happy I nearly cried
as he was speaking because he was saying it with a lot of heartfelt
emotion.
As I took
the leash, I replied with my own vows: "My beloved Eric, I accept
the gift of your very life with great love and emotion. I promise to love
and cherish you, place you bondage to my body and needs, discipline when you
misbehave, dominate you during every waking moment, indeed enslave you for the
rest of my natural life!" I then pick Eric up off the floor,
embraced and deeply and passionately kissed him as his feet dangled in the
air. When I finally sat him down, Eileen and Heather applauded as I
pinched his round bottom and gave it a smack. Afterwards, we had a nice
lunch, with Eric serving, of course.
Honeymoon
Eric had
spent little time outside of my property since he had come here, but I was
determined to have a honeymoon with him. But a beach resort was out of
the question---having him oogling other female flesh
would not do. In was in the winter months, so I had decided on a skiing
honeymoon in
"Eric,
my pet, do not put anything on. For the entire time we are together in
this room you are always to be completely naked in the presence, unless I put
something on you."
"Yes,
Miss Helen." The boy had an erection, a state he was frequently in
once I had started to seducing him those many months
ago. We sat on the soft pile in front of the fire and we began our first
night of lovemaking as wife and husband, mistress and slave, predator and
prey. It was, however, going to be a gentle experience for Eric---we
would play some rougher games soon enough. Tonight he would enjoy erotic
domination more than the physical kind. As we embraced in the first, I
kissed him long and hard, thrusting my tongue repeatedly into his mouth,
exploring every inch of it, my arms around him, my leg snacking around his
until they were firmly in my grip. After a long bout of kissing, during I
frequently held Eric's mouth with a fistful of his hair,
I moved his head to my breasts, which were half the size of Eric's entire
head. I had Eric suckle me for what seemed like an hour, unable to move
any distance at all from the bondage that was my arms and legs.
Eventually, I forced Eric's face down to my pussy so that he may worship me
there as well. I draped my legs around Eric's head and onto his back, I
held his arms up at my sides by their wrists, and I folded my silk robe over
Eric's head, placing him in a sexual prison of sort. I kept Eric there
for what seemed like an eternity, making him bring me to orgasm after
orgasm. If he tired, he could rest his head on my groin like pillow---I
wanted him seeped in my feminine scent at all times. Finally, I released
Eric from that position, turned him over and made slow methodical love to
him. He came quickly the first time, but we simply rested in that
position until we resumed. At his age, Eric never lost his erection,
though it took a while before he came again. At all times, I held Eric
down by his wrists or smothered his face with my breasts. We continued
like this until after
Married
Life
When we
returned from the honeymoon, things settled back down into their former
routine. Eric was now my husband, my lover, but especially my
slave. Eric performed all of the domestic duties of the property, always
wearing his slave outfit: a satin pink corsett,
garters, nylons, a French maid's hat and a lacy apron. But he now also
wore his slave collar all the time while at home (and often under a turtleneck
shirt on those occasions we went out). Yes, I was willing to out with
Eric now from time to time. We enjoyed going to a restaurant or the
movies---naturally I always ordered for him and always chose what movie to
see. We attracted the occasional stares of course. I was still
twice his age and obviously much taller and stronger. I suppose if I
had wanted I could have made it appear that Eric was my son rather than what he
was, my slave-lover but I saw no reason for that. I would never reveal
the full and true extent of our relationship to the outside world. That is, after all, a matter between only the two of us.
But I saw no reason for other men and women--other couples--not to see that we
had a romantic relationship and that I clearly was the senior partner, so to
speak.
Eric's day
time duties were usually followed every night by extensive sexual encounters
with me---our bondage and discipline sex games.
Even though we were now married and shared the same room and the same bed, Eric
was not allowed to stand in our boudoir. He was required to always remain
on his knees or crawl on the floor. By only allowing him to crawl in our
love nest, even if it was just to go brush his teeth, reinforced
constantly his submissive and subordinate status. Every night Eric
performed at least an hour of cunninglingus on his
knees with his arms cuffed to a leather belt attached to his waist and with my
infinitely long muscular legs clamped to his body. When he wasn't
performing that all-important task he was attending to my other personal
desires, massages, stroking, hair brushing, finger and toe-nail polishing---he
was in every way my personal body servant. He spent more time pleasuring
me after I tightly bound him to our king-sized four-poster bed and I repeatedly
encased his entire head with my large black bush and powerful thighs. On
many occasions I would pretend to smother Eric and not let him breathe for increasingly
long periods of time. The very first time I did this him, which seems so
long ago now, Eric was frightened but now that he understands the nature of the
game it excites him even more. The absolute power I have over him is on
full display at these moments. Eric has even joked how if he ever had
"to go" that was the way he wanted it to happen. I laughed with
him when he said seriously: "Oh, no Eric, we don't want that.
I am looking forward to the decades of your enslavement to me that we will
have." And with that, I fucked his brains out twice before we both
collapsed and went to sleep.
Friday
nights were still discipline nights in my house but increasingly after we
married we made less a formal ritual and more of the predator-prey games we had
occasionally played before. I maintained a list of the infractions Eric
had committed over the week against me rules. Usually it was a few minor
failings in chores, sometimes a muttered comment about something he didn't like
under his breath (he is human, after all!) The list established the
number of spankings he would receive from my hand. The game now was that
I let him crawl out of the bedroom and run through the house with a 3-minute
head-start. Then I had to follow him, capture and subdue him, and then
proceed with his disciplining. Eric clearly enjoyed this game as much as
I. He was always turned on by the height and strength advantage I had
over him. I would find him, wrestle him to the ground, wrestle him into a
comfortable spanking position (which I always made sure took a long, long time)
and then proceeded to remind Eric who was in charge. The strong do what
they will, the historian once said, the weak suffer what they must. It
described my marriage to sweet, innocent Eric to a tee.
The
Playroom
Six months
went by and this is the life Eric led. Occasionally we would have Eileen
and Heather over for dinner but on those occasions Eric served them their meals
and then served up his talented tongue after dinner. We sometimes played
the hunt and chase games with him although the deal was that once Helen or
Heather captured and subdued Eric with their lovely bodies the discipline would
be administered by me. I had always promised Eric two things: one,
only I would ever physically punish him and two, he would only ever have
intercourse we me. Of course, that didn't stop Eileen and especially
Heather tormenting him in other ways. She in particular, when she
captured him, would make sure he stayed quiet while she stroked his
penis. Never enough to make him ejaculate but enough that he would beg
her to let him and she could deny him. Eric naturally was not ever
allowed to have an orgasm without permission and Heather knew I would never
give him one until after they left. She utterly enjoyed the sadistic
tease and denial torment she inflicted on him at our "dinner"
parties. When she was done with him she would let him speak, "Miss
Heather, please, please let me come," and it was her delighted laughter, "oh,
no, Eric, you know I can't do that without Helen's persmission,"
denying him that signalled that she was ready for me
to come and redden his gorgeous bottom to my guests' delight.
Nevertheless,
after a while I began to grow concerned that maybe my relationship would become
too boring. After all it had been nearly two years now
since I first seduced and then enslaved the dimunitive
boy to my Amazonian body. For the past year, partly on Heather's
recommendation, I had begun reading several bondage and female domination
magazines. "If you enjoy what your doing
with Eric, Helen, you'll enjoy those types of magazines. You probably
will find ideas of things to do and try with him," she said.
"What have you got to lose but a few dollars?" I had to admit
she had a point but at the time she made it, I had a clear path I wanted to
take Eric down and things were not yet complete. Now we are married and
"settled," so to speak, albeit in a far less traditional way than
that phrase generally implies.
Reading the
magazines was intriguing and sometimes a little offensive and revolting.
There are a number of activities I would never want to participate in or would
want Eric to participate in. And here I am speaking both as his dominant
mistress as well as with some raw maternal instincts. But the magazines
did provide many ideas of delightful and wicked games I could play with
Eric. Above all, I decided I wanted a playroom for us, something with
more room, more "equipment" than my bedroom has or could hope to
offer. So I decided we would renovate the basement and transform it into
an erotic, kinky playroom for us.
The first
steps were straightforward. I hired a contractor to put in the basic
finished room and bath. It would have thickly padded carpeting, recessed
lighting, plain unpainted walls and ceiling, and large cabinets and shelving
along about half the walls. Eric would do the rest of the work as I
planned on what purchases would be made for the room. It was not a
trivial investment but provided great possibilities.
Part of the
basement was devoted to a large thick pad and with padding on the walls.
Then I introduced "wrestling night" to Eric. We had of course
continued to play our chase, capture, and rape game on a regular basis, but I
never made the "capture" part too long. Most of that fun was
devoted to the "chase" as Eric was good at hiding and moving fast and
to the "rape" where after I had conquered him I made him pleasure me
before I took him. The purpose of wrestling night was to have long drawn
our sessions in which we exerted ourselves physically, to weekly demonstrate
how much physically superior to Eric I was. It was great fun for
me! And most of the time for Eric, too, although occasionally I got
carried away and bruised him a bit more than I intended.
On
wrestling night Eric and I would descend to the basement, he wearing only a
jockstrap and me wearing only a black thong and a low-cut athletic bra. I
wanted complete freedom of movement for me and as much access to Eric's body as
safety would allow. The rules were simple and always the same: we
would wrestle and whoever wins by pinning the other gets to make any demand of
the loser. In light of my Amazonian stature and strength, I of course
never lost. But Eric knew he had to try as hard as he could each and
every wrestling night or I would be unhappy and that was something he did not
want.
"Eric,
my pet," I called to him.
"Yes,
Mistress," he answered. He was finishing cleaning up after
dinner.
"Eric,
tonight I am introducing our first 'wrestling night' to take advantage of our
new playspace. The rules are simple: we
wrestle until there is a winner and the loser must submit to the winner's
whims. What do you think of that?" Not that what he really
thought really mattered.
"Well,
Miss Helen, I confess it sounds like fun but I don't think the odds are in my
favor. But I love playing these games with you."
"True,
my slave, but you will try your hardest to win just the same. The fun
here is the wrestling itself, not necessarily what comes after!"
We went
into the basement and walked over over to the
pad. Eric was still wearing he frilly pink day clothes and I was just in
a set of sweats. "Take your clothes off Eric and put this on,"
and I handed him his jock strap, which I made sure was just a hint too
tight. As he did so, I stripped out of my sweats---my thong and bra were
already on. Eric has a difficult time keeping his eyes off my body when I
am dressed like this. He is 18, after all, and with no TV or magazines
and very few outings, I am pretty much the only female flesh he ever
sees. It has become impossible for him to resist getting aroused.
We begin by
circling each other a bit until I approach and make like I am going to grab
Eric's arms. He in turn sees that, ducks my grasp but falls victim to my
tripping him with my legs. In a second I am on top of him on the floor,
pulling his arms behind him, slipping my legs around his body and squeezing him
until he begs for mercy. Letting him go, we start again. Eric
lunges at me, but I sidestep and lock his head around my arm while I have him
bent in half. He grabs at my leg but he simply isn't strong enough to
take me down the ground while doing so. I fondle his groin awhile as he
is this position, distracting and weakening him further.
One of my
favorite positions is to get behind Eric on the mat, grab his left wrist and
his right foot and position my legs on his back and pull, threatening to snap
him like a breadstick. I shriek in delight as he struggles pitifully in my
Amazonian thigh squeeze. We wrestle---more accurately I manipulate and
bend his body into different and uncomfortable positions and alternatingly stimulate his cock or spank his exposed
bottom. Usually I let Eric escape repeatedly only to recapture him
and place him in bondage with and to my body. I love to tickle Eric as I
wrestle and control him. Tickling, too, if done enough can be a form of
torture and I love to torture Eric this way. The utter control I have
over him, physically, is a narcotic that I cannot seem to have enough of.
Eventually
Eric tires from his futile battles with me and as I sense that happening, I pin
Eric on his stomach with his arms behind his back. I remove my panties
and rip his jock-strap from him. I then turn Eric over and stretch his
arms above his head, with me sitting now naked from the waist down his chest,
pinning his arms with my knees, and placing my crotch over his mouth. In
the post-contest cool-down, Eric must lick my pussy for as long as I demand.
Only when I am satisfied with this do I mount him and ride him to orgasm.
I am now
thinking of adding more variety to our sex life. More and more I am
molding Eric' sexual makeup to be devoted to me and to be my sex slave.
Soon he will be incapable of anything other than being a submissive sexual
lover. And Eric's obvious sexual enjoyment when in various
uncomfortable physical positions makes me wonder which toys to introduce into
the playroom next...?
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