Jeffrey Lyons was in a feverish state. This was not unusual. Jeffrey had been in a feverish state for most of the past six months. Ever since he had met Kara. After the events which were described in "Kara Pays Her Rent" had transpired, Jeffrey’s fever had increased several fold, to the point where it had taken over his life. It was insane. Fifty two years old, a relatively normal guy for most of those years, Jeffrey now spent almost all of his time either having sex or thinking about having sex. A heavenly state for a nineteen year old who didn’t have much else of interest to do or think about. For a serious middle-aged person like Jeffrey – a man with a life over brimming with interests, friends and responsibilities, not to mention a career that he, in the not very distant past, had thought of as infinitely rewarding and a good enough reason all by itself for being on this earth – the whole situation was positively off the fucking wall. And not likely to change.

The past week was typical. Monday at Kara’s. He had tied her hands above her head, legs spread wide by an iron bar, standing on the tip-toes of her six inch slave heels. He then began to beat her with a nasty single braid whip. Why? Well for no particular reason other than that he enjoyed torturing her and there was nothing she could do but take it. Slowly, and very sadistically, being sure to let her tits and asshole and upper thighs feel the sharp sting. She was in intense pain. He could tell as she writhed and twisted in a hopeless attempt to avoid the blows. Halfway through she had begun to cry and beg for mercy, really beg, not play fooling around beg. He laughed at her. Laughed at her pain and her begging and continued whipping her. Crack, he caught her right on her left nipple. She screamed in agony. Now underhanded between her legs. She tried to become airborne but there was nowhere to go. He made it last a long, long time. Faster than slower, eventually exhausting most of her strength. Finally, he sensed that she was at the end of her resources. He wrenched control back from that evil demon who seemed to take over during these torture sessions. He let her down, gave her some water and some food. After she recovered just a bit he made her lick his cock for hours, holding him right on the verge of orgasm – god forbid she should prematurely bring him off or, even worse, let him down off the maximum pleasure peak – that would have meant more torment, something Kara was pretty desperate to avoid at this point..

Tuesday he tried to work. But little got done. Thoughts of Kara filled his head. He masturbated twice. Weds he had a date with Anne, a woman near his own age, a woman he once thought he was in love with. Did he want to fuck Anne? Not really, but he could be passionate with her. All he had to do was call up images of Kara. Thursday back to Kara’s. He tied her spread-eagle on the bed and unlocked her belt. He cleaned and shaved her pussy, a pussy that had had no satisfaction for going on three weeks. Next he teased her, something he loved doing even more than beating her. Oh how she squealed and begged for some relief. But no, he thought, not yet. So back in her belt she went and back to work on his cock. For five hours and three orgasms. Before Kara it had probably been twenty-five years since Jeffrey had had three orgasms in one evening. Now it was a regular occurrence. Friday middle age finally caught up with him and he basically slept and watched TV. No hope of working. Answered a few e-mails from his neglected friends. His cock was sore. Red and raw and wanted no sex. Saturday a date with a new woman. Janice. Thirty-five and hot. She wanted to play his kind of games. He was barely interested. Sunday it was back to Kara’s for more slave sex. And so it went.

Although Jeffery loved every second he was getting increasingly worried. What had he become? Was this consensual? Did Kara really like it? The money that he paid for her rent made the situation quite ambiguous and difficult to sort out. And he was growing increasingly abusive toward her. Those wonderful S&M games that he loved to play with his consenting partners, from both top and bottom – they were fun, but they didn’t hold a candle to this. Was it because she was twenty-five and unbelievably gorgeous? Or was it the real, as opposed to play power the money gave him over her? And that chastity belt. My God. Any thought of the torment the youthful and sexually charged Kara must be in just drove Jeffrey wild with lust. He had her under his thumb, totally and completely under his control. It was the best thing that had ever happened in his life. He had to admit that. But it was also quite disturbing. No doubt he was becoming corrupted by all this power. Underneath all the bullshit piety about love and caring and friendship lurked this mean and deeply sadistic bastard. And he was neglecting his life, his friends, his work. He had little interest in the women he should be interested in. After all who would want sex with a middle aged woman who complained of her creaking back and wanted things just her way, when he could have sex with the beautiful and totally subjugated Kara.

So, after allowing himself five minutes to think of the disturbing aspects of the situation, here Jeffrey was in his car driving to Kara’s, whistling, thinking of all the delicious torments he was going to subject her to in just a little while, happy as a clam.

He hadn’t bothered to call her. After all it was sort of his apartment he was going to. And she was required to be "home" for him on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Dressed as he required. Most of the time he showed up. Sometimes he didn’t and that was just too bad. She was completely at his beck and call.

He parked his car in front of Kara’s garden apartment, walked up to her door, unlocked and opened it. He walked into the living room. There she was, relaxing on the couch. A vision of beauty as always. But wait something was wrong. She was supposed to be wearing that new black corset he had bought for her. The one with the ratchet handles for tightening and the clips for her nipples. She had begged and pleaded not to be forced to wear it while she waited. It must have been quite uncomfortable, to say the least. But there she was in jeans and a sweatshirt – a manner of dress he had never seen her in. Looking, if anything, even more radiant than in her slave clothes.

Momentarily nonplussed at this unexpected sight, Jeffrey was not given a chance to say a word. Kara held out her hand. "Give me the key." She ordered in a tone of voice he had NEVER heard from her.

"Wha, wha what do you mean, give you the key?" he managed to stammer.

"You heard me, give me the key to my belt right now."

"I don’t understand, have you had a brain transplant or something?" Jeffrey, recovering his wits, managed.

"No, sweetheart, just a bit of money from an inheritance."

"Oh, I see, it really was the money all along." said Jeffrey, a nasty nasty feeling, almost fear, gripping his gut.

Of course it wasn’t only the money. For a long time Kara had loved every second as much as Jeffrey. But as he grew more abusive towards her she more and more wanted out and it had become, little by little, mostly the money. And now she didn’t need his fucking money. $80,000 real American dollars had come her way, via her dear departed great-grandfather. Enough to keep her head above water for a long time. Enough to let her finish school and get a real job. It was time to end this insane period of her life, even if it had been fun for awhile. And it was time to get rid of Jeffrey. He had shown his true colors in the past few months and she wanted no more of him.

"You cant really think I like how you have been treating me. Right. I’m twisted but not THAT twisted. You’ve been a selfish bastard, and you know it. So give me the key to this awful chastity belt and get the fuck out of my life."

Oh no, this can’t be happening. The best thing that ever happened to Jeffrey was unhappening, right now, right before his eyes, due entirely to his own flawed character which had been mercilessly exposed by the situation.

"Wait a second Kara. I don’t understand. We really like each other. Maybe even love each other. I’m sure of it. Of course I’ll give you the key. I always would have given you the key but I thought you liked how we were playing. We can play some other way if you want to. But I don’t want this to end," whined the all of a sudden not very dominant Jeffrey.

"Don’t give me this shit Jeffrey, you know I haven’t liked it for awhile. You just didn’t care. You had me in your power and you abused me. That’s the long and the short of it." Kara retorted, perhaps a little ruefully as she once truly did like, maybe even love Jeffrey. But how could she have anything to do with the tyrannical little monster he had turned into?

"You’re right, Kara, I have to admit it", said Jeffrey, caving in at once to the reality of the situation, "I have gone quite off the deep end. But it has been so fucking hot. You know it. I am sorry if I have abused you. Really sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you, but please, please don’t kick me out of your life."

Well, well well thought Kara, my erstwhile master pleading. Doesn’t that just sound so nice. And turnabout is fair play after all, perhaps this could be fun.

"Please? Please? Master Jeffrey?" she answered sarcastically. "Are YOU begging ME? Isn’t that a change. Perhaps if you beg on your knees, I will consider continuing our relationship but with me, not you, in charge."

Inwardly, Jeffrey heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn’t going to end. He wasn’t going to be forced to return to the dull and boring gray world of middle-age. To the real world. To the world he formerly loved but which now seemed so bland and tasteless as to not be worth bothering about.

He got to his knees. He looked upwards at Kara. At the new stronger Kara. "Please Kara, please let me stay in your life. I will do anything for you, be YOUR slave if that is what you want, or just be your boyfriend or whatever. But please, please don’t make me leave."

Kara took her time in replying. Sure she had thought of this in the past. Jeffrey had always said (back when he bothered to talk to her like a human being) that he liked playing both ways and the idea of being dominant did not lack appeal to her. But she had come to dread her sessions with him during the past month or so when he had really seemed to stop caring about her at all. She had started to hate him and had thought that she just wanted to be done with him. Now, looking down on him, she saw just how much real power she had over him. How much he desperately needed her. It was always true but she had just never seen it before. Yes, she thought, she could be dominant, in charge. It was right, it was natural. And just like it hadn’t been "playing" the past few months when he was in charge, it wouldn’t be playing now. She would turn him into her slave. For real. To do with as she pleased. Oh yes, oh yes indeed. And he had taught her oh so well.

"Well Jeffrey, isn’t this nice. You on your knees, begging. You know you will NEVER find anyone like me ever again, someone so young and beautiful and twisted. Someone who might want to play with you. You will die before you have anything like this again. But perhaps I will allow you to worship and serve me as a slave. Perhaps. But it won’t be easy for you. I will make you suffer, double, triple what you have made me suffer."

Jeffrey’s cock grew rock hard. This was fine. This was even better. It was right and just and just in time. He had become a monster. Who knew what he would have done to Kara if she hadn’t put a stop to it. He didn’t deserve to be in charge. And now, looking up at his beautiful Kara, he wanted nothing so much as to be in HER power, to be her slave.

"Whatever you want Kara, anything at all. I’m yours to command." He meekly answered, looking up into her eyes, tears of relief, of gratitude, of love forming in his eyes.

"So Jeffrey. This is how its going to be. We are going to find YOU a chastity belt. Which you will wear ALL the time. You will NEVER have ANY sex, though I may allow you to masturbate once a month or so if you are really good. You will come here whenever I call you and do whatever I require of you. Today you will unlock my belt and clean my apartment from top to bottom. We will find you a belt on the Internet and order it."

So for the rest of the day Jeffrey cleaned Kara’s apartment. Naked, on his knees, wearing the dog collar and leash he had once brought for her in what now seemed like another lifetime. He was continually under her watchful eye and reproachful tongue. Lashed with her words and that same single braid whip if he was too slow or missed some dirt. It HURT, my God did it hurt. This wasn’t some toy SM whip but the real thing. A torture whip. On Kara’s youthful and months of abuse toughened skin it had left little red marks that quickly healed. On Jeffrey’s much older and almost virginal skin it left welts. Nasty welts with each stroke. And on this day there were many strokes.

It didn’t take fifteen minutes for each to have sympathy with the others position in their former relationship. Through pain clenched teeth Jeffrey was just beginning to feel the guilt that he had suppressed all these months. He had really hurt her. Much, much much more than he should have. Much more than she enjoyed. How could he have been so cruel. Now he was getting what he deserved. But deserved or not, it felt pretty extreme, even dangerous.

Kara, for her part, was, after only a little bit, already finding it hard to restrain herself. POWER. It felt so good. It was just the very best feeling. With every passing moment she became more cognizant of the extent of her power. Of how much Jeffrey was addicted to her, of how much he would do anything to be with her. And she wanted to hurt him. Hurt him a lot. Not really because he had hurt her. No. Just because it felt so good to do it. Because she could do it. Because she was in charge and inflicting pain, forcing him to endure pain was the ultimate expression and demonstration of her power.

After a bit Kara got out the black corset that she was supposed to have worn that day. Perhaps she could fit it on him. She was just so tired of looking at Jeffrey’s little pot belly.........