Message-ID: <36835asstr$1024380605@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "The Foxbat" X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 18 Jun 2002 03:58:30.0406 (UTC) FILETIME=[68752A60:01C2167C] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 17 Jun 2002 23:58:30 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} RP: The Subordinate (mf nc bond) Part 2 by Foxbat Date: Tue, 18 Jun 2002 02:10:05 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, gill-bates _________________________________________________________________ Join the world's largest e-mail service with MSN Hotmail. http://www.hotmail.com <1st attachment, "subord2.txt" begin> Subordinate Part II (m/f bond) by Foxbat Disclaimer: The characters in this story are completely fictional, and bear no intended resemblance to characters in real life. This story contains graphic sex, in some cases non-consensual, and should not be read if such stories are illegal in your state, or if you are a minor. Please feel free to distribute this, on the condition that the disclaimer and author's name remain intact and unaltered. Feedback is welcome and appreciated: the_foxbat@hotmail.com Thanks to all who have responded - more stories should be fortcoming as soon as I finish some of this silly stuff called work all these strange people seem to want from me. Subordinate by Foxbat Part II: As per my instructions, Katie didn't show up in class the next day. I found myself hoping that she didn't do anything stupid, either to herself or to me. My fears were put aside though the next day when she was back, sitting in the front row, just as composed and assertive (and fuckable) as ever. The only difference, if there was any, was that she was even more assertive than usual. If anyone dared to disagree with her stance on an issue, she verbally tore them to shreds, and, although its not as if she'd ever had any mercy, she seemed even more vicious. Maybe I was too absorbed in examining her, or maybe I had let my thoughts get ahead of reality, but either way, I wasn't paying enough attention at the end of class. I had hoped to get her into my office so I could get back into her "office," but she slipped out of the room before I could say anything. The rest of the day slid by, classes, meetings, none of which were animated by Katie's fantastic spirit. I had retired to my house at the end of the day to do grading of the mindless and repetitive papers produced by my freshman seminar which the college insisted that I teach. That was the bad part of being a big-name prof. The house was the good part. In the mid 80's, when the economy was good and the future looked sunny, the college had embarked on an ambitious plan for renovation. Large parts of the campus had been torn up, moved around and rebuilt. In the process, the humble cottage I had spent the last 25 years living in was slated for demolition; the ground was needed for the new student center. In compensation, and as the benefit of my rank, I had one of the first picks for new housing. My new house (really one of the oldest houses on campus) was on the far and quiet end of campus, with enough trees around it to provide me with privacy, or at least the illusion of it. For being a bachelor, I had an excellent house, bigger than most new professors with families have. Most of the first floor was taken up by the kitchen/dining room and my library and study, and the second floor was mainly bedrooms and guest rooms. The renovating contractors, however, had not touched the basement, which was still in its original condition. The walls were rock, as was the floor, and the place felt like a dungeon out of the middle ages. I have always believed that there's nothing you can't learn or do if you put your mind to it, and my project with Katie was going to be the proof. I had started planning this as a hypothetical mind exercise when I first saw her, and as the exercise grew more elaborate, I began wondering why I couldn't actually implement it. So I did. Learning how to fake the records showing her little act of plagiarism was just the tip of the iceberg. I had redone the basement in preparation for her too. The first step, namely moving out all the old shit that my predecessors had kept there was probably the hardest part. I had had a tag sale to get rid of it, and cleaning the place, although unpleasant, wasn't difficult. With the addition of a few worn old oriental rugs and a dehumifier, the place actually began lose the damp and cold quality. It still felt like a dungeon, though, and that was a feeling I didn't want to lose. I next immersed myself in the literature and world of BDSM, and began to build the toys I needed, often working in the theatre's wood shop late at night, under the guise of building a few bookshelves for myself. What I couldn't build, I bought, and by the time of my first real experience with Katie, everything was in place. *** I was standing in the basement that night, admiring my work, when I heard the doorbell faintly. It was odd, because I rarely had visitors, save the occasional student who wanted to discuss his paper, or the rare colleague who was interested in my opinion on some or another matter. With a sigh of reluctance, I went back up the wooden staircase to see who was at the door. I consider myself a very articulate and verbose man, but what I saw took my breath away. It was Katie, wearing a tight black top, black short skirt, and stylish boots ending just under the knee. Her dark hair was up, and her blue eyes shown like something evil. I was beginning to wonder if this was a hallucination, when she asked if she could come in. Words found me again, and I said of course. I led her to my study, which is probably what most people would expect - floor to ceiling built in bookshelves, and big cushy high-backed chairs. She sat in one, and I in another, facing each other. She appeared just as calm and possessed as could be, but I suspected that was partially because she had rehearsed the speech she was about to deliver. She had just opened her mouth to start when I preempted her by asking if she would like something to drink. Caught off guard, she said yes, as I got up and poured her a Manhattan on the rocks. I could see her facade beginning to crumble, as I returned. "Now, what were you going to say?" I asked. "Mr. Whethersfield," she began, "I've thought about your little proposal, and I'm sure we can work this out. I know you well enough to realize that I doubt you will be willing to just forget about this whole thing, but we can at least be civilized about it. I understand your desires, and I can come over on Sunday nights-" She had begun to speed up and I cut her off here. "Why did I pick you?" I asked in my best professorly voice, as if I was asking her why Napoleon lost at Waterloo. She stopped, and before she realized it, her mind had reacted to my tone and she was analyzing it. "Because I'm pretty?" she tentatively asked. "There are a million hot dumb girls I could have picked from, and any one of them would have been easier and less of a risk than you." "Because you wanted the risk?" I remained silent, and she corrected herself, "You're not the risk-taking type." I smiled. "Why?" I asked again. "I don't know," she said. "Not true," I immediately responded, "you know exactly why. Now stop being self-conscious and say it." We both knew it was true, and she cast her eyes down, still modest. "Because you wanted someone who would be challenging, who wouldn't give up easily." "Good. So what's my answer to your proposal of a once-a-week little fling?" "No..." she said, disappointed. "Good. Lets take a walk." I said, standing up. Looking unsure, she followed me to the basement steps and then down them. What greeted her eyes must have been a sight indeed. All manner of bondage equipment lay about, whips hung neatly on the wall, a rack against another wall. A horse-type structure in the middle of the room, next to the modified table. Leather restraints hung from the ceiling, and D-ring anchors were scatter across the floor. I walked to the table, pulling two chairs up. I sat down in mine, while she gawked at the 7 inch dildo which was bolted to the middle of the seat of hers. "It won't bite you." Faced with a number of unpleasant choices, she opted for wedging herself between the dildo and the back of the chair, and from my seat it made her look like she had an obscene erection of her own sticking up from between her legs. I could tell that the entire place threw her off - she must have been expecting our relationship to be a few quick fucks, mostly in the office or the bed. Her eyes were wide, as she looked around, a perverse imitation of a child's first time at Toys'R'Us. "What's that for?" she asked, as curiosity overwhelmed her, pointing at a small shelf where some nipple and clit clamps were set out. I told her, adding, "Would you like to try some?" but my question was lost to her as she continued to look around the room. I waited patiently for her eyes to return to me. They were really wide when they did. From class discussion, I got the impression that she had had a fairly conservative upbringing, and not much of a social life in her all-girls private high school. I was willing to bet that she had no clue what half of the stuff in the room was for, but that probably only magnified her fear. She squirmed in the seat, obviously uncomfortable being wedged between the dildo and the seatback. "A lot of this stuff can be really fun once you get used to it." I gave her the grandfather smile. "Don't sweat it. You'll be fine, once you get things down, and knowing your ability to learn, that shouldn't take long." I stood up, and she extricated herself from the chair to follow my up the stairs. I showed her to the door and sent her on her way telling her to come back for dinner the next night, sans panties. - At exactly 6:30 I heard the doorbell ring. I had spent the previous day looking forward to the activities I had planned for tonight, and wondering if this was all really true. I walked to the door, and opened it, watching her nearly jump out of her skin. I think after her tour of the dungeon, she half expected me to have her right there on the door-stoop. Mental note to self to try that some time. Anyway, I had prepared a nice dinner, for her, and so, when she came in, I directed her to the dining room where everything was all laid out for us. She once again looked surprised as all hell, and looked to me for an explanation. "Lets eat like civilized people first and then fuck like savages later," was all I said by way of explanation. Dinner was good, and I engaged her in a discussion of the sort most students and professors would share, putting her at ease. It almost seemed like by the end of dinner, she had forgotten what would be happening to her later. She helped me clear the dishes, and had followed me to the basement stairs when I think the realization came back to her. She kept it together though, and walked down the stairs, to where I was standing in the center of our playroom. For a minute, she just looked at me, and I looked at her. "Strip," I said quietly. She did, slowly pulling her dress over her head, and dropping it on the floor. As per my instructions, she was naked as the day she was born underneath. I walked slowly around her, admiring all the features which had been the reasons I embarked on my plan in the first place. Despite the added heaters and dehumidifier, the dungeon retained something of its cool and damp aura, and I could watch her nipples reacting. I could see her determination not to lose her calm, and I walked back to my chair, motioning her to hers. She was beginning to maneuver herself behind the dildo again, so I shook my head. She reluctantly scooched back up, and began appraising the tool which stuck out from the center of her seat. "You're probably dry as a desert," I said to her, and she looked at me blankly for a second before nodding. I reached into my pocket and produced a nice tube of KY which I flipped to her. Again, she gave me a blank look before she squeezed a dollop onto the tip of the dildo, and gingerly lowered herself onto it over the course of about a minute. We would definitely have to work on that technique. After getting herself settled, I explained a few things to her. First, she was to do whatever I said, without hesitation. There would be no strikes, and failure to comply would result in "punishment." Similarly, compliance would garner her "rewards," which I guaranteed her she would grow to love. If anyone found out about this place, our deal or anything else, her career and possibly her life would come to a screeching halt. Lastly, as a bonus for her and challenge for me, I told her that I would not fuck her in any way tonight if she didn't want. I could see her take the bait, thinking this would be an easy experience. With all that agreed upon, I got up, and walked to a big old stand-alone wardrobe that I had brought down here to hold "costumes." I wanted to start things off on the right foot, get some resistance going, so I searched for the most outrageous thing I could find. I settled for a nice double-dong combo (one for the pussy, one for the ass), and fitted it into a pair of chain-link panties, which provided enough cover to keep the dongs in, but not enough to hide anything else. I tossed these to her, and ignored her questioning look, as I searched for a suitable top. I settled on a leather bra with nipple cut outs, and I tossed this to her. She just stood there holding. "Put it on," I ordered, though in a gentle voice. "Where do these go," she said holding up the mass of metal and leather. "Figure out, and quickly." I guess the bra must have been the easiest thing to recognize, and she managed to put it on and was trying to adjust it to cover everything when she realized it was designed not to. Now, there was no longer any way to avoid the dongs and chain panties. I could see her eyeing the dongs, warily. "You can use the KY again, but you have 30 seconds to get everything in and on, respectively," I told her by way of encouragement. Thirty seconds later, the pussy-dildo was in mostly, and the ass one was just being lined up. I announced time, walked over behind her, and stuffed the posterior plug into place, eliciting a gasp from her. It wasn't very big, but I doubt she'd ever had a hunk of silicon stuffed up there before. I snapped the panties in place, and told her that I would go easy on her for the first punishment. I strapped a ballgag into place, handcuffed her hands behind her back, and led her over to one of the sawhorses that I'd fixed to the floor. I produced two of the so-called clover clips, the kind that bite more tightly with increased tension, and applied them to her proud nipples. I bent her over the sawhorse, strapping her down in the process. I measured out a length of chain, clipping one end to her nipple-clamps, and clipping the other end to the lever of the remote which controlled the vibrators built into her double-dong. A small spring which attached the bottom of the lever to a floor D-ring completed the setup. The way I measured the chain made it so that by just sitting there, the vibrators would be on a very low setting, not enough to really get her anywhere. However, by pulling up, the chain connecting her nipples to the remote would move the lever upwards against the spring, increasing the level of stimulation, while the clover clamps would tighten on her nipples. As soon as she released the pressure, the spring would draw the lever (and her tits) back downwards, letting the lever fall, and reducing the vibrators to a slow setting again. Satisfied with the arrangement, I left her to experiment and stew while I got a nice warm cup of coffee. - The cup of coffee was good. Very good. So I had a second. It was also good. I made a mental note to invest in some video monitoring equipment, so I could observe without her knowing. I let this thought float around in my head for a little while, and then I stopped trying to think of other things. Katie had been in her current predicament for maybe 15 minutes - I didn't expect much, other than maybe a really resentful stare. The sight that greeted my eyes as I walked down the stairs was beyond words. Katie was howling like a banshee behind the gag, soaked in sweat, her tits stretched into tight cones as she strained upwards against the bondage. Her ass was bucking against the restraints as much as it could on the sawhorse, and she was in the midst of one of the most powerful orgasms I had ever witnessed. I stood, utterly transfixed by the sight, until she slumped back down over the sawhorse, exhausted. I walked over to her limp form, unclipping the chains, and unstrapping her from the sawhorse. She was limp in my arms, as I carried her over to an old futon I had put in the corner. There, I unstrapped her ballgag and uncuffed her. Her eyes fluttered, and she began to return to the land of the living. I held her stroking her gently, waiting. When I judged she was with it enough, I unclipped her nipples. To an outsider, this might have seemed like a relief for her at first, and, indeed, she thought it was too. Then the blood started rushing back into them, they turned from death white to bright red, and I watched as she clutched herself with a gasp. Now that I had her full attention, I told her not to talk, as I led her over to the table. I situated her so she was sitting right on the edge, and strapped her down. In this position, her crotch was at the perfect height, and right over the edge. I left her momentarily to get some hot water and a towel. I don't know what she thought when she first saw the straight-razor but it wasn't something she wanted. I simply ignored her and lathered up her mound. I don't know about most folks, but I am a great fan of the shaved look, and I intended to share that appreciation with Katie. I can't imagine why, but all her squirming and bucking stopped the instant the straight razor came within an inch of her twat. It only took a minute, and I was very careful, but she didn't even dare to take a breath the whole time. After a little rinse, I was staring at a downright delectable pussy. And, after all, there is only one thing which can be done with downright delectable pussies. I started slowly, just letting my tongue run along the outside of her labia, then darting inside for little stabs. I took my time, enjoying the feel, before I reached up to hold her open for more serious work. I danced around her clit with my tongue, still teasing her before going lower. I could tell she was beginning to get back into by the way her hips were scooching around on the table. I delivered a few directed jabs at her nub, moving her to the extreme edge of orgasm, as I could tell by the way her clit retracted under its hood. And it was time for a coffee break again. And a piss break. I watched her fires die, as she moaned and thrust her hips invitingly towards me. After about 5 minutes, I went back at it again, bringing her right to the edge of orgasm, only to leave her hanging, and moaning in frustration. "I told you I wouldn't take you if you didn't want it...." I could hear muffled screaming behind the gag. "Do you want it?" More frantic attempts to say something. "Well, that's too bad.... I was kid of hoping that you might be interested." She slumped back down in defeat, as I walked slowly away. I rinsed my coffee cup out in the sink upstairs, retuning shortly thereafter. Katie was making muffled talk noises behind the gag as I bent down sample her pleasures again. When she started to flush and was once again on the edge of orgasm, I stood up. Wiping my face off, I looked down at her as her fleeting arousal once again dwindled. "Its such a bummer you're not interested in a good fuck tonight." Muffled screams erupted from behind the gag, as she wiggled her hips around on the table as much as her bounds allowed. "All you have to do is ask - its really quite simple you know." I smiled down at her as I began to walk away. "Maybe you couldn't ask me because of the gag," I said thoughtfully, as if this were an interesting discovery, turning around. "Here, let me take that off." I bent over her, and removed the gag from her sweat covered face, and stood back. There was silence. I moved forward again to put it back on, since apparently there was nothing she wanted to say. As I was moving towards her though, in a very soft quiet voice, she said simply, "please." "Was there something you wanted to say?" I asked. "Please," she said, this time more loudly. "Please isn't a request." Again, there was a pause until the gag moved back towards hermouth. With her eyes downcast, in a very small voice, she said, "please take me." I pretended to consider for a moment. "One, be explicit in your request. Two, if you mean it, say it like you mean it. Otherwise, I will undo you and you can leave now. Three, look me in the eye when you say it." I could read the conflict on her face, but with a small sigh, she looked up at me, and said "Please fuck me like no tomorrow." That I could be satisfied with. And besides, who could turn such a request from a beautiful girl, the fact that she was strapped to my table not withstanding. I dropped my pants, and aimed my dick in to her. She was definitely ready physically, if not mentally. As I entered, she stopped staring at our juncture with a look of concern, and let her head rest back with eyes closed. I've had a few in my day, but never like this. She was soft, warm and wet, and my dick was trying to get as much of her around me as possible. If there was such a thing as heaven on earth, this had to be it. I looked down at her, a vision of bondage and sexual passion, and everything was right in the world for a moment, however fucked up that is. I was sliding slowly in and out of her, occasionally using my thumb to circle her clit and keep her interested, although it was not as if that were a problem. She was arching her back to improve the angle, and kept trying to move with the rhythm, which obviously wasn't working too well. However, it was not like any moving on her part was necessary, since I had slowly sped up and was now drilling like an Arab looking for oil. I shifted my hands to her hips for better leverage, and started slamming into her in a serious way, all awareness of my surroundings gone. She had started babbling inchoherently, between gulps of air and her moaning of course, and I could tell when she exploded into an orgasm by the way her cunt was spasming. It felt like someone was administering shock therapy to her, and it probably looked like I was getting it too. I came hard, still pounding her for all she was worth, and dumped my load in her just as she was beginning to come off her orgasm. When I stopped moving, I looked down. She was lying there, just as I had tied her, with her head looking off the side, eyes closed, still breathing hard. I let my limp dick slide out of her, and sat down, absolutely pooped. After a few seconds of rest, I picked myself up, and began undoing her. She just lay there limply while I loosened the bonds, still savoring post-tremors. I unsnapped the fetish bra; the panties had long since been discarded, and scooped her up to carry upstairs. I lay her on my bed, where she curled into a fetal ball for a few minutes before opening her eyes and looking at me sitting on the bed beside her. There was yet another awkward silence of the sort that was beginning to characterize our relationship, before she reached for the light. I quickly shed the rest of my clothes, and snuggled under the cover next to her. = = = = = = = = = to be continued? <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice----- Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice----- ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+