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Part 1
I had known Lois for almost 8 years.
We’d been living close to each other when I was 24 she was 29. At that time she’d just broken up from her long-time boyfriend and we’d had something of a chemistry to say the least. It was absolutely electric. I fancied the pants off her, she had something about her that just made me excited and more, it was an immensely strong attraction… she certainly gave me plenty to think about.
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I was quite inexperienced with women at the time – having had one girlfriend, but extremely highly sexed and a sensitive soul I found I attracted a lot of women (even if I didn’t do much after I’d got their attention) And so things were always going to be taken slowly anyway. But we inched our way towards each other with a mutual attraction that was electro-magnetic
But at the time I could see how much of her attraction towards me was to do with the rebound and her desire to attach to another man so I never let anything happen. Just. It was difficult to say the least. Lots of very charged long hugs, strokes, massages. I wanted her so badly and she would make advances. We always came so close to consummating the lust, but I managed to hold my steel (in what I think of as quite a super human manner to be honest). One night we kissed. The most powerful and memorable kiss of my life – it was worth 100 careless fucks. It was phenomenal. But the next day I left and didn’t come back for a time. I knew there was something wrong about us coming together there and then so I ran away.
We kept in contact over the years. Mostly by phone, but we would meet up from time to time too. And perhaps because of that never consummated lust we always had an electricity when we spoke or met up. It mostly came out in a charged flirty-ness, but there was always much more brimming below the surface. I have often fantasised about her. And she about me.
Around 2 years ago, we accidentally chanced upon the topic of bondage and control. She confessed to being drawn to control. To having men under her thumb. To controlling not only them but also their orgasm. Having them masturbate, naked on her bed, as she stood by filming them, clothed. They would not come until she allowed it. They would be left on the edge of orgasm for as long as she required, perhaps never orgasming, as she looked on, controlling them.
That alone almost sent me over an edge. Ever since a very young age I have fantasised about being vulnerable, being controlled. I remember being about 11 and taking a pair of toy handcuffs out to the woods by my house, strengthening them with string and trying to handcuffing myself to a high branch with my trousers off. Just to feel vulnerable, out of control. I would tie myself up in my bedroom late at night with school ties. Never managing to be fully bound and out of control, but the excitement of the prospect of being truly bound and vulnerable would have me shaking – just like I am shaking now relating these events.
I confessed some of this to Lois at the time. But not everything.
Now, at the age of 30, I had refined my desires. Now the idea of being controlled by a woman, a woman having control over my sex, my orgasm, having me in chastity, having me under her thumb, at her mercy, knowing that she had me exactly as she wanted me, how she wanted me, drew me forward with an almost mythical desire. I felt hypnotically drawn to it, almost powerless to give in to someone who might want to control me like that.
The idea that someone would be as powerfully and uncontrollably drawn to control me, as I was uncontrollably drawn to being controlled turned on a light in my groins. There was something so breathlessly out of control about it.
When lois told me about her desires to control, I wanted to give myself to her right there and then. I wanted to let her take me, to have me, to use me how she saw fit. To give myself to her. But just like 6 years before something in me felt it wasn’t right – this time it was fear – I didn’t know where it would end. I would do anything if she had me. She would totally have control over me and my life. I would lose my own life and become hers. It was what thrilled my and what petrified me.
Both at the same time, I was mortally excited by the idea of her filming me do what she asked, perhaps raping me, looking on while others used me, pimping me out to her friends. Earning a living off me (I am an attractive well muscled man. I could become a lucrative money-making scheme in the right / wrong hands) And all those thoughts fuelled the fantasy as well as the fear. But again, by my fingernails I kept from more of an encounter with her.
Knowing Lois as long as I had I knew that she was capable of actually taking a man in her control. Like me she was driven by her deep sexual urges (she is one of the most sexual women I have ever met). She would be driven to control me, to use me by the same sexual need as I had to give myself over to her.
But at the time, 2 years ago, I escaped.
Just.
However. Around 6 months ago I wrote a story about lois – this time I used another name. It described how someone – her – might, if they so wished, capture me and make me their own. How to move, what to do to win me. I posted this story on an internet site, the bdsm library. It was a thrill to write it, the fantasy of someone, perhaps even her reading it made me breathless and horny as hell. They would know how to capture me.
In the story were enough only the tactics to use to get me, but also more personal details that could be used to make a permanent chastity device.
The story I posted was this one:
“Collie, if you are reading this. This is how to capture me.
Invite me to your house saying you want to try something out on me, something you want to eventually try on your new boyfriend, but you need my help, it’s a bit funny, odd, but you think I’m the man to help.
When I arrive the next weekend, sit me down, all casual and talk about your “new man” and eventually come to the fact that he is very much into chastity games and that you have something to make it a lot more fun for him, a custom made chastity device. It’s metal, to be used without a prince albert from “Mistress Lori’s chasity tubes” and you want to check that it’s almost impossible to escape from.
I’ll of course say that I might not be the same size as your boyfriend.
You’ll say that you know I’m similar – a smaller flaccid circumsied cock that grows nicely enough when aroused. But with it’s smaller (8cm circumference, 8cm length flaccid – 20cm x 16cm when full) ‘resting’ size you worry that he might be able to escape. Would I be a sweetie and try it out for you?
Well the frisson of trying out such a device would be a pull to say the least. I’d go to the toilet and put it on. Locking it closed with an intake of breath. Feeling a thrill. (she does know this is turning me on? She isn’t trying to capture ME is she?). I try to escape from it. Impossible – it’s metal and in 2 rings, with one ring having 3 spikes jutting in to hold the penis firmly in place. I try to get it off. No way Jose. It’s stuck to me, every move my penis makes the device comes with it. There is no slack to loosen the penis out from. It holds me firm.
I would come back in.
“How does that feel? You would say. Could I take a look? Let me take the key a second.”
You take the key.
“How does that feel you say, with a twinkle in your eye?”
“Good. It fits perfectly. Shall I take it off?”
“Actually I had hoped that you’d leave it on for the afternoon while we go for a walk – just to see if it’s uncomfortable, how it feels. You thread the key through a necklace and pop it round your neck.”
You say you have to quickly send an email, but that you’ll be with me in a second or two and then we’ll go out for a walk.
So we’d spend the afternoon walking, talking, having tea. Me locked up. You holding the key. From time to time you’d say something, get a twinkle in your eye and just prod me with the bare facts of the afternoon.
“How does it feel knowing that you are in a hi-tech custom made chastity ring and that I am holding the key to that ring? Right now, the only way you are going to escape is if I give you the key.”
The thought races through me. She’s right. I can’t remove this thing without her giving me the key. Of course I could just rip the key from her neck and undo it myself. But still I was locked up. I couldn’t take it off if I wanted to. I’d look at the key on your neck. It would give me massive relief to know that I could reach out and take it at any time. I could be unstuck if I wanted to be. Escape was close at hand.
We’d sit by the river and take a tea. It would be a lovely day. You’d want to buy the drinks as a “thank you” for helping with the test. I’d watch the swans on the river. People going by. The sun in the clear sky. I would feel the metal on my cock from time to time and it gives me a thrill knowing I’m in that metal cage. I’d watch a family playing around on the grass. An old man in a boat.
It would suddenly occur to me that you are taking quite a time getting the drinks. There must be quite a queue in the tea room…. But it has been quite a long time. The couple opposite me arrived before we did and they are now well into their teas. I’d start with a shock. Standing quickly I’d feel the weight on my penis as I rise. Where is she…. I’d walk with a growing fear and speed into the tea shop. Empty. Completely empty. I’d race into the toilet. Empty too. What? No! My god! No! NO! This can’t be! I’d race back to the table I was sat at, she’s not there, she’s round the corner maybe? I’d look up and down the river. She is gone.
At a run – or as fast as I can run half-holding my penis, unfamiliar I am with that weight on it – I speed it back to your house. There is a note on the door. “Gone on holiday for a week. Lets meet up when I get back! Lots of Love, Collie.”
Oh my God! She’s… she can’t have! I’d knock on the door. Ring the doorbell. Standing there for an age. But would be no answer.
Suddenly the immensity of the situation hits me. But wait… no. She could be playing a trick on me. Or she could not. She could be playing this for real.
I turn home. Confused. Numb. The reality of the situation not entirely on my shoulders. The thrill not entirely gone. It would feel very much like limbo. Is this for real? What’s happening. Maybe this thing will come off? I’ll try when I get home. It must come off.
I’d get home 45 minutes later on the tube and feel more relaxed. It is bound to come off. As I always do when I get home, I’d turn on the computer and check my email.
One email – and it’s from collie.
“Hi there sexy,
I’m just in my bedroom right now as you’re in my front room reading a book or something. You’ve been in the chastity ring for about 15 minutes now. To think you’ve got absolutely no idea what’s going to happen this afternoon, or even the next day, or month eh!
I’ve been planning this ever since our chat 2 years ago. I can’t believe you actually locked it on yourself and gave me the key! This is it! You are going to be mine! This is what I’d wanted for such a long time! Oh my god! If I can just keep it together for the next few hours. After a few weeks of me being away you’re going to be like putty in my hands. As last. Putty in my hands.
Oh by the way I’m changing the key on my necklace right now – just in case you get any ideas while we’re out walking. But other than that I will have left you at the tea room and be out of London by the time you’re reading this. I will send instructions soon. Up until then, enjoy the chaste life! Your new Mistress, Collie”
And that’s all you need to do Collie.”
I read the story back and back. If someone, if Lois, read that story they could capture me if they so chose. Invited around their house. Invited to try on a device. The thrill of trying on a chastity ring in a casual setting was too much temptation for me. And because it wasn’t intimidating, (I wasn’t naked, there was no visible threat I was likely to do it) it would feel too safe. And I’d walk into that honey’d trap. Even if someone did and said the exact things that I’d said in the story I would be hypnotised by the fantasy of it. Also, to add insult to my self-created injury - because it was a story I’d written the events as they unfolded wouldn’t feel real enough to be a threat.
Part 2
3 Months ago Lois called me up and asked me to come over. I didn’t even think she might have read the story. It was just a casual friend calling up to meet. So I went.
She said she hadn’t seen me in ages and really wanted to meet up – she’d cook and we’d have a lovely evening. Let’s just do it.
It sounded like a good idea. So I accepted. There was nothing funny in those first exchanges. Nothing at all. In fact there was nothing funny all through the evening. I had no idea what was in store. I had no idea that there were 3 cameras set up in the room recording what we were saying and doing. I certainly didn’t have the slightest inkling why I had really been invited. That night, as usual, I flirted with Lois. Obviously, a few years ago, in a few steamy and excited phone conversations we had confessed to each other to being 2 sides of the same sexual coin – rampant dominant, voracious submissive – but that was unreal, a far cry from a suburban dinner with a friend. This was all too real. And the rest was all too in the past. As I was sat there enjoying a glass of wine with my old friend, catching up after not seeing each other for a few years, none of those things occurred to me at all except in the odd flash back to a fantasy I might have had while masturbating. Those thoughts were just that – fantasy – and to be dismissed as such.
It was not until the second of third glass of wine when the subjects of sexual desires came up. It was a thrill to talk about them with her again after such a long time (and when else did I have a chance to talk about them. I was very much a closeted submissive) and so we lingered on the subject for quite a while. I think she was getting off on the subtext, all my tacit talk about wanting to be controlled, and I certainly liked her tales about her sex life. Unlike me she’s experimented more.
And then she suggested something “for fun”. It was just for the simple excitement of it. Nothing more, nothing less.
She has some handcuffs. Why don’t I just put them on behind my back for a bit. Stand up there by the radiator, and handcuff myself to it? Just for fun. To play at loss of control, with a friend. In a safe environment….
The idea ran small pulses of electricity though my stomach. I began to smile at the idea. It all seemed quite innocent and fun. In fact a great idea – playing with my hard fantasies in the soft environment of a friend’s flat. Fully clothed. Just testing the waters.
So, yes, I decided, what better place to dip my toes in the water of my submissive nature than here and now? I am sure I had a bit of dutch courage that made me walk calmly into it without as much forethought that might be prudent. After all, this was a person who I hadn’t seen in 2 years and I was putting myself in their control totally. Was that wise….? But I didn’t think those thoughts. I just thought “Yeah, that seems fun”
I had no idea how there was no such thing as dipping my toes in, paddling in those natures, and I had no idea that Lois was planning to give me a big push into those waters as soon as my big toe had as soon as touched a drop.
“Okay then. Yeah, that sounds okay.”
“Cool. I’ll cuff you to the radiator and then I can taunt you with the key.”
“Sure.”
“The radiator is kind of warm, do you want to take your jumper off?”
“Okay, I’ve got a wife beater vest on underneath, anyway”
So that’s what I did. I took off my jumper, and allowed Lois to handcuff me to her radiator.
“How’s that feel?”
“Okay”
“Why don’t you try and move a bit?”
I tried to move. I couldn’t do much. The cuffs were a bit tight and uncomfortable. The radiator was at a height just below my waist, so there was little chance to move anywhere. My legs were bent a bit. It wasn’t too comfortable. The radiator stood next to the door frame and I could just about lean on that if I wanted to.
“Here lets try this”
“What?”
But before I could get an answer Lois had skipped past me into her room.
I stood there for a moment, before I heard her coming back.
“This!”
And she quickly slipped a blindfold onto me.
“Hey!”
My arms instinctively went up to try and remove the blindfold. But all they drew was a sharp clinking sound as the cuffs rattled against the radiator. I struggled a bit more to try and get it off with my shoulder but couldn’t reach it . Suddenly my helplessness became more apparent. Apparent in the darkness.
“How’s that feel?” Said lois. Sounding very excited.
“Okay.” I said. A little impatient. “Good. Take it off!”
A little harder, and impatient herself, lois came back with “I just want to know how it feels.”
It feels like I can’t see anything.
A pause. Then in a playful tone…”Do you know what I’ve got in my hand?”
No. I can’t see, remember.
I’ve got the key to your handcuffs in my hand. I control whether you stay here blindfolded next to my bedroom door tonight. Or whether you get to go in a few minutes. La di da, fun fun fun . She’s talking absentmindedly, and I can hear her shuffling around, fiddling with something across the room. She’s fixing something. I don’t know what it is.
I hear a whirr. Is it a video camera “whirr”? I suddenly feel very exposed. A thrill goes through me. I am cuffed and blindfolded in Lois’ apartment. Lois. The one with domination fantasies. The Lois who knows I have heavy submissive fantasies. She has me here. She might have organised this? Has she. My mind is racing now, and my cock is rock hard from it. My heart is pulsing just like my penis.
Then she says. “Well, I say, you do seem to be excited, don’t you!”
“Hmmm… well maybe this has been enough for one day….” I say trying to draw a close to proceedings. For all my obvious exitedment – I feel discomfort at the situation. Awkward.
“I tell you what, young man, if you do 3 things for me I will let you be untied.” Her tone, again, is a little harder, if seductive.
O…kay.
Firstly, when you address me, until you are uncuffed, I want you to call me “mistress” just until you are uncuffed. You understand?
I understood. That seemed simple enough… I just wanted to get out now. So I went to reply…
Er… yes m….
But the words stuck in my throat. It was such a humiliating thing to do. She was my friend, my equal. To call her mistress, to defer to her as if she was my superior, and to acknowledge that by calling her mistress, it was more than just a bit humiliating. And it made this situation seem more permanent. It made me feel like I was her slave. Like I had chosen to be in this. I found myself not wanting to do it.
Um…
Just three little things and then you can be uncuffed. Come on, it’s just fun, my little captive slave. Come on. What do you say?
A pause from me. I swallowed and jumped.
“Yes, mistress.”
I had given in to her. I had subserved myself to her will. She had told me to do something humiliating, something that intimated her dominance over me, and I had done it.
“Do you like being cuffed to my radiator? And answer honestly.”
“Well, kind of mistress. But I also kind of a little scared so I’d like to be let go. If that’s okay mistress.”
“What am I?”
“You are my mistress, mistress”
“Good. What am I. Tell me more”
“You are my mistress. And I am your slave. I will do anything you tell me to do, because you own me. My body is yours. I have given myself to you and you own me” I heard a moan from her. And a sharp intake of breath. Was this going to far? Was I inciting her to take it too far. I had no control. Was this just a game still?
“Good. Now, the second thing I want you to do is to open your mouth and hold your tongue out.
“Okay.”
This was a strange request. What was she going to do? Put the handcuff key in my mouth?
I opened my mouth, held out my tongue. And something warm and rubbery touched my tongue. And then pushed my tongue in, and then went further down my throat. I pulled my head back to try and escape it as it began to feel less comfortable and suffocating, and hit it against the wall. It went right down my throat. I bengan to panic as I felt her fiddling with something at the back of my neck, and realised she was strapping on a gag. I shook and twisted my head violently from side to side as soon as I realised this, shook it as hard as I could to get the gag off, but it was too late. It was on. I was too late! I tried to ask her to take it off but all I could do was muffle.
What was it? A ball gag? I’d never had a gag on before. It really filled my mouth, and I could feel it right at the back of my throat.
“My dear little slave. You are now wearing your first cock gag. It’s in the shape of a cock, that’s why it’s filling your mouth. “
My god! What was happening? This was way out of my control now. I didn’t ask for this. Why did she have a cock gag to hand? Where was this going? What else did she have in store? Just as the cock gag filled my mouth, falling just short of the gag reflex, I was filled with a sudden dread. A deep fear. But with it rose my lust, my horniness, my hard hard hard cock straining to show itself.
“Now, the third and last thing that you need to do to be let go. It’s quite simple really. Indeed, it couldn’t be simpler.”
Thank god, I was going to get out. This had become a bit too intense. God, it was real. maybe too real. Yes, my cock was hard, perhaps as hard as it had ever been in my life, straining against my jeans. I was excited beyond any excitement I’d felt before. I was shaking with adrenaline; the adrenaline of feeling submissive to Lois. But I was going to get out, thank god. Just a few more moments of this awful gag filling my mouth – this was just a taste of what it would be like. She had planned this well.
But she continued…
“Although, of course there is another option to me untying you. The other option is that because you are enjoying this so much – and I can see that you are enjoying it a good bit… with that she traced the outline of my cock on my jeans – so much that you would like to give yourself to me for the next week. You’d like to spend a week as my property. As Lois’ loyal submissive. What do you think? Mmmm? Those are your options.
One week as her slave? I could do that. I could. What would it be like? I began to fantasise… but the discomfort of the gag in my mouth soon bought me back to reality! No! That’s a stupid idea, this is fun to an extent, but already she’d taken it too far. Handcuffing was one thing – but a cock gag and blindfold? No, she’d enjoyed it too much! What would be in store if I agreed to let her have control over me? Even for a week. She might do anything! She could do anything. A thrill found me with that thought – but I was not so high that caution couldn’t find me. And with that I knew it was best to leave it at this. Christ, yes.
Lois continued….
“So….those are the two options. The simple thing you have to do to be released, to have me take this key in my hand and unlock your cuffs is… to ask me, in plain English. “Lois, will you un-cuff me”.
What?
However, if you remain silent I will presume you want to be my kept slave for a week. Your choice. You have 10 seconds to choose.
I began talking very loudly into the gag. !Mmmmffff!!!!! MMMMMFFFFFFF!!!!” I screamed. I shouted. I said, as loudly and as clearly as I could “Loid will you un-cuff me!” I struggled. I motioned. I made it as clear as I could that I wanted to be released.
But to no avail.
“So, 10 seconds are up. Brilliant. You are mine for the week!”
What? This wasn’t happening! She couldn’t just decide that? What was she going to do? Keep me here all week? Well, she’d have to because the moment I got free I was going to leave this place, and never bloody come back. She’s mental. What did she think she was doing?
My God! Whatever was happening it was happening without my consent! She’d tricked me! I was handcuffed here at Lois’ flat, blindfolded, gagged. I couldn’t do a thing. The last thing I’d called her was mistress. She was living her fantasy. Here and now. This was the fantasy she’s always dreamed of! This was it, and it was me who she was living it with. To her, I was the slave she’s always dreamed of trapping! I knew how much she’d dreamed of this too. How much it excited her. How the sight of me here handcuffed to her radiator, blind and gagged turned her on. How she much have gushed with wetness when I struggled for those 10 seconds. She was rushing with what was happening now. And with that rush, with the scene unfolding, she had no intention of letting me out. I knew that now. She couldn’t have. She hadn’t taken my consent. She’d just done this. Because she’d wanted to!
However long I was handcuffed I was hers. And she knew it. And I knew it. And my cock certainly knew it.
She leans over me. I can feel her closeness. She’s still wearing the same jumper. Still in her same, casual clothes.
“How does it feel? Slave boy? You’re mine. And you know what? I’ve trapped you here. And by the time the night is through, you’re going to be mine. All mine. Ever since you walked in my flat tonight – and with every minute that passed - you became more and more mine. Every second that passes you’re slowly becoming my slave. All mine. Just like this…” She starts stroking my cock… “just like this is soon to be mine, all mine. You’re going to give it to me. You’re going to give me complete and total control over you, and your cock.”
And she stands there, her breasts pressing against me through her jumper, stroking my penis, I am petrified she’s right. Because this feels glorious, her hand on my cock, me not being able to do anything about it. Her power over me.
What has she got planned? I didn’t know.
But I was going to find out.
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