I looked up as the door opened and grinned coolly as I noticed that my visitor was he. His blue eyes gazed at my direction and I could see his soft smile as he walked over to me, hands in his pocket, perfectly casual, himself.
That would not do.
“You know the rules,” I hiss out, still holding that cool grin and gazing at him steadily.
Of course, he knew the rules, and the only time he disobeys would be when he wanted to be punished, wanted to be truly demeaned and humiliated. The smile left his face and he pulled his hands from his pockets, looking down, ashamed, “I’m sorry…”
“To whom are you sorry?” I stood up, arms crossed over my chest, glaring at him know with authority.
“I’m sorry Mama.”
I smirk and uncross my arms, while holding myself with the matriarchal sternness, “That’s better, boy. Now arms up so I can put you in your proper attire” I put extra emphasis on his title, boy, and he cringed, putting his arms up with the right amount of trembling and hesitation. Oh God, he knew exactly the right looks and actions to make me feel so lustful, while so more hungry for his broken pride. Taking a few steps closer to him, I threw took off the leather jacket and gazed at his lithe, lean body, waiting to tease the skin underneath.
With only one glance, I ripped open his white shirt and he gasped. Forcing his arms down, I trapped with the shirt, gripping it tightly around his arms as the sleeves moved off his shoulders. With a growl, I bit down on his chest, and he cried out, in surprise, pain, and pleasure. I knew how much he enjoyed it by the erection that was growing against my legs already. Digging my teeth even deeper into his fragile skin before letting go, I nearly tore his denim jeans as I violently pulled them down his thin, yet cut legs, exposing the lacy, very feminine, black cheeky thong I made him wear. Pulling back from him, I gazed at the bruised, almost broken skin and he shuddered, looking down at me with tearing eyes. Oh, those eyes…the only part of him that made me weak, made me want to hold him, love him, and give in to him than the other way around.
Ironically, those same expressive pools of water were the very thing that made me want to hurt him so much.
Moving away, I sat down on the bed, and spread my legs inviting, “Come here son, and do that thing Mama likes so much. I know I taught you well.”
He could not help it but grin softly, smiling with those same teary eyes, “Yes Mama, anything for you.”
I blushed. I could not help it, but despite how long it has been, I still felt so strange and new. I closed my eyes as he pulled up the tight black skirt I wore and made me chuckle oh so slightly when he exclaimed, “No underwear! You planned this all along, didn’t you Mama?” I gripped his hair tightly and though I was trembling with giggles, I whispered, “Now, now, your mouth has better things to do than talk, boy.”
He nodded, his eyes, smile, and words making him seem like an innocent little boy, while his tongue and his body movements showed what a little whore he truly was. He was VERY good, just knowing where to lick, where to suck. My thighs trapped his head effectively and though he knew me so well, I controlled his movements by using my hands and legs to position his head where I wanted him. Feeling the familiar, but powerful pleasure that would often resonate from his beautiful mouth and tongue, a violent, sadistic part of me took slight control of me as I used my strong thighs to squeeze him until I could hear him muffling and gasping out, “I…can’t…breathe…”
With those unforgettable words, I climaxed, still holding his head tight so he would drink every drop, making sure that none of it would touch the floor (though it’d be nice to see him on his hands and knees and licking my juices from the floor).
Opening my eyes and composing myself, I let go of his head and set him fee to breathe properly. He licked his lips, coated with my taste, and he looked up at me from the floor, sprawled in such a way that made him appear so naïve, yet asking for abuse. Brushing my skirt down and tidying my shirt, I looked down at him, with disgust in my eyes, but a nasty smirk on my lips, “You would make a beautiful little lesbian slut, wouldn’t you? My filthy cunt-loving whore!” Standing up, I became more powerful and more vicious as the game played on, while he became more submissive and weak, slowly cringing away from my venomous glare. Grabbing his hair and tugging on it sharply, I stared deep into his eyes, “What other things should I make you endure for me?”
He looked up at me with those innocent blue eyes and stuttered out seductively, “Anything you wish Mama, you know that your little boy allows you to do anything to his body.” I slowly let go of his hair and he still held my gaze, slowly spreading his arms and jutting his chest out, “I’m yours…do to me what pleases you most…Mama…” I knew that with his eyes and words, he gave himself up to me, trembling slightly. He was afraid, but thrilled, the submission he gave to me must have sent shivers into his very soul.
I know because it was sending shivers into mine.
***
“Mama…if you blind me…how can I see what you’ll do…” my boy whimpered as I buckled the leather blindfold over his…intoxicating eyes. I was too gone to care for his whimpers or whines; my mind was set on the goal. To completely humiliate and dominate my prey.
“Are you there…Mama…?” He bucked his head gently against my breast. At that moment, his wrists behind him, in the restraints connected to the spreader bar over his shoulders. He looked like a medieval captive preparing for another day at the market where he would be whipped and tortured for further degradation.
“Shut up,” I hissed, pushing him on to his back. He still had on the torn white shirt (it help make him look so helpless and worn down), with the thong stuck tightly on his erection.
I stood up and began to pull of my casual shirt and pants to reveal my true self. Underneath that façade of normality was a frightening, hungry beast, dressed in black latex with stilettos to announce her ominous arrival.
Although, I was wearing those same boots the whole time I think the sound of the heels changed. I think he noticed the change was well, because he began to curl up in a corner and I swore I could see a tear run from under that blindfold.
“Oh god…” He muttered, the air changing.
He should have been use to me like this…but a part of him could not accept his surrender to me.
That will change.
“You mean godDESS.”
I must explain that change. I know in the beginning I was…relatively sadistic with biting his skin and teasing him, calling him nasty things. However, I was still…playful in a sense. I know it is not easy to tell, but I was not truly cruel, even when I was becoming more controlling, I was still... ‘myself’.
However…when he spread his arms wide for me, in submission to me…that is when the game begins. My mind loses itself and changes…and I turn into a monster when my day clothes vanish from my body.
I become a savage animal.
And my boy…my poor boy…
He becomes the victim…whether it is by his choice…or not.
***
I pushed him upright against a wall near my drawer (after I forced him away from the corner) and said just one word, “Stay.” Like a dog he obeyed, still shaken by the sudden change but expectant and preparing himself.
Growling loudly enough for him to hear, I walked to the closet and slid open the door, eyeing my toys. He turned his head to try to listen to what I was doing, but he has never seen my collection (I like to keep him surprised). I looked over at the many torture implements and stroked some of my favorite, kissing the tip of a whip or licking a ball gag. My boy shifted in his place, looking around, sometimes calling for me if I stood still for too long, day dreaming about his eyes and lips.
Looking over all my gadgets, I found something that appealed to me. Taking out rather vicious looking alligator clamps attached to a motor. Smirking, I walked back over to him, his head turning at the sound of my footsteps. He called my name out again and this time, I slapped his face hard before kissing him deeply, exploring the familiar territory of his mouth with my tongue. I pulled back before he could properly respond and I felt his hot breath on my lips, panting, and sweat soaking into the blindfold.
Moving two fingers against his lips, I gently pinched both his nipples, getting them hard enough for the clamps. He moaned against my fingers and kissed them softly as I licked his nipples, and when I bit those little buds hard enough, he gasped and whimpered. When I was satisfied with their hardness, I attached the alligator clamps and turn on the motor.
It was hilarious to hear him gasp and to be comforted by the hum of the vibrating clamps. However, he did not appear to enjoy the sensations, his manhood said differently.
His body always says differently than his words.
Smirking I lifted his chin harshly, using one hand to tighten the clamps just to see his reactions, “How does it feel…? Do you like it slut? Do you love to be teased?”
