Daughters of the Goddess Parcae

My father was rich, and an unusual man. I worked at a dead end job for a year after high school, and then I gave in to my father's rules to get educated.

The rules were simple, he said, "Tommy, if ya want to go to school you have to go to Mt Sinai; it's the only one I'll pay for." It was a good school, about 100 miles from home, private and expensive. Instead of living in the dorms, my father arranged for me to live in a bed and breakfast-type of place near the campus. All paid for and arranged by my father.

A woman in her 50s owned the place; she was an attractive older woman, with huge breasts, a wide bubble butt, and a pleasant face sporting features that harmonized into a handsomeness. Her skin, though, was smooth and elastic, like younger women, so she looked much younger than she was. Her name was Christine Lawson.

"Welcome, father and son, to my home; let me show you to your room immediately, " she said as she turned and walked down a hallway to a room in the home's back. My eyes couldn't help but notice her huge, round ass swaying before me. A stirring in my pants I tried to kill, but for some reason my efforts had me tenting as she opened the door and turned to invite us into the cozy room with a sweep of her arm. Her eyes glancing quickly, almost unnoticeable-down at my erection and she smiled and nodded her head.

"Very nice, indeed," my father said. "Don't you agree, Tommy?"

I was struggling to load my two suitcases onto the bed, "Oh...yes...yes, indeed, father. A very pleasant room."

"I am sure you find this place to your liking, young man, yes?" she spoke with an air of authority. "For I am the sole other resident herein, and I will strive to provide you with all of the care and grooming a young man would need to have success. Yes, all of the care, indeed, as an Inn Keeper, as that is how I view myself, I feel the responsibility to care for the body and soul of my charges," she continued as she turned to my father, "That I guarantee you, Mr Brooks-and all the details and arrangements are to your liking, sir?

He perfunctorily answered in the affirmative. He held his hand out to me and I shook it. And I swear, he, too, glanced at my tent and smiled-a smile i would always remember, the rest of my life.

He turned and shook her hand. "Take care of my son, Ms. Lawson."

"Oh, yes, sir, you know I will; everything we spoke of will easily fall into place. That I am now totally convinced of, sir. You were completely accurate as to the quality of your son; he will thrive in this environment, sir."

"Yes, for that I am now sure of myself. So long, son. You mind Ms Lawson; it is in your best interests," he said-almost laughing aloud as he walked from the room.

Ms Lawson spoke, "You unpack, young man. We eat in an hour, and don't be late, understand?"

Her body language and voice had taken on a different tone; she wasn't just asking, she was ordering-and my tent hardened even more. As she turned and walked out, closing the door behind her, I opened my zipper and took out my meat and began to pound it.

She reached her room in less than thirty seconds and turned on a monitor, and there before her was a clear picture of me jerking my cock frantically as I knelt in the room's center-at the time totally unaware of her visual observation of me.

She picked up a phone and spoke into it: "I'm watching him jack-off as we speak, sir. I wasn't gone thirty seconds and he had it out and was stroking it like a maniac. The cameras you installed are perfect, sir. I will record everything and follow your instructions to a tee. He'll soon fall under my thrall, sir, and I will use him as you have paid for and instructed...Thank you, sir. Yes. Good-bye, sir."

I sat at her dinner table exactly at 6 PM, and before me was my favorite food -Lasagna, tossed salad and garlic bread. She had changed clothes; she had on a skin tight, short skirt, which displayed her ample, round ass-my cock couldn't take its eyes off of it; a purple halter top hardly contained her huge G cup breasts, and she dipped much lower than necessary when serving the food, so I had incredible views of those tits. Thus, I was aroused to the point I hoped she didn't ask me to talk because I would be an incompetent human male stuttering through a face-full of lust.

As she sat-finally-she said, "Help yourself, young man-all your favorites, according to dear old dad," and she pored a deep red wine into the wine glasses that had strangely sat there, empty and forlorn, until her hand brought them to fulfillment. She picked up her glass, "A toast...to new beginnings and a new life for my young guest."

I joined her, took a sip and then a gulp, and said, "Thank you."

We ate in silence for several minutes.

"Tommy, I know young men," she said as she raised her glass and took a deep draft of her wine, "and was it my ass you fantasized about as you jerked off after your father left-or my tits?"

A small TV sat on the counter a few feet away; she picked up a remote and clicked on a video of me wanking away. The wine was affecting my perception; her commanding tone and the video shoved me over the edge. Speechless and adrift in sub-space, I sat there mesmerized by the whole scene, and under the table my cock boned so as to cause me a delicious pain. I reached, unconsciously, trying to arrange my package so as to lessen the discomfort.

"Stand up, young man, and get your cock out; I want to see it."

I obeyed without thought, standing with my hands next to my sides and my cock sticking out of my pants. I stood there like a scolded child, but a child willing to beg for her punishment. The room spun ever so slightly, and, inside, my consciousness receded; the sense of being a little boy overwhelmed me as my boned erection jerked about and my asshole squirmed and contracted.

She stood before me with a studied air of contempt, a look about her of my complete worthlessness. "Become naked this instant!!" she barked. The many stories of submissive men being drowned by an ocean of a superior woman's dominance -darted through my mind like a lightening flash, and the many videos of men being owned by a dominant woman flooded my mind; there pale shades of black and white like backdrops to an old porno movie.

Incapable of controlling my thoughts, I was beyond help; I became a willing participant in the complete decent into slavery-I wanted to be owned by this woman, used as a thing for her pleasure, so I was awash with what must have been slave mind, so I gave in completely-my cock pulsing, my asshole clenching, my mouth gaping with drool slipping out and over my lips as I disrobed with obedient alacrity.

And as I stood there, I knew there was no coming back; I wanted to be hers so badly; I would now be owned, and I knew it like how you know -how to ride a bicycle. Owned lock stock and barrel, by this woman, and a small explosion of thankfulness echoed somewhere deep inside my head.

She stepped forward and grabbed my cock, "What a pathetic piece of meat. Your father promised me a young man, not an adolescent jack-off. Oh, yes, you're here because your father watched you carefully, seeing you jerk off to dominant woman's websites, et cetera, and as a wealthy man he couldn't allow you to inherit his fortune. You are now mine, body and soul," and with that she grabbed my balls with the other hand and squeezed them; I yelped in pain and started to fall to my knees, but she let go of my cock and grabbed me by the neck and squeezed tightly, chocking off my wind; she slowly stood me up.

Her grip relaxed; her face came in contact with my own, and slowly she whispered in a rhythm, a tone that was musical and unalterable in its simple truth, straightforward words culled from her depth of experience in the life long pursuit of identifying and capturing the submissive male, body and soul. I was captured.

"You are now mine-I own your balls and your cock, whether you live or die is upon my whim. Your body begs secretly, within your words, dancing on your timing, and your body language screams silently-punish me by severe physical means...by this dominant woman-Me!

"Ah, I see your cock throb and bob about under the heel of physical means. That fevered, perverse brain of yours imagines whips, belts, boots, paddles and gags-and, yes, I will pleasurably and, mind you, with gusto play with all the toys imaginable as I stripe and stretch your ass-from the cat-o-nine tails to the butt plug, from the cane to the strap on dildo. It all makes me super moist and easily easily brought to orgasm, over and over, through out the day and through out the evening as well.

She paused, and moved her mouth alongside my ear: "Outsiders call us dominants, or dominatrix, et cetera;" she whispered. "We are descendants and followers of The Goddess Parcae, and in Greek mythology, the Moirai—often known in English as the Fates—white-robed incarnations of destiny. They controlled the metaphorical thread of life of every mortal and immortal from birth to death. Their number became fixed at three: Clotho (spinner), Lachesis (allotter) and Atropos (unturnable). I am a direct descendant, so I can spin, alot and be unturnable.

"Some say we are gifted or even blessed, the latter a blaspheme of the universe; the gift, though, can live and rest within you until it is you, or you can slowly, through your eyes and ears, begin to see the form within the block and know you, too, were born to own a submissive. Just as the submissive comes to realize he was born to be owned, and, likewise, with that marriage of opposites we know we are to be owners-like the gay knowing very early in life he's gay or when a man is a woman, a woman a man. You just know!

"As I pleasure, reward owning, the owned is as satisfied with his or her results. Actually, the submissive benefits more than I. But only benefits if I understand the submissive's needs and unflinchingly provide them; we both know the submissive's ultimate joy in life is to be treated like a thing, an object-and to use them in every way-like a thing."

She turned away for a few seconds, and upon return she had her panties encircling her index finger; he hand upon my shoulder and instantly I knelt. Her left hand grabbed my mouth, "Open wide, slut," she ordered, and into my mouth she stuffed the panties and quickly taped my mouth shut. "These panties I've worn off and on for several days, so they are full of my essence. Now, kneel here up as straight as you can and suck the stains from my panties out by the time I return, you understand, slut?"

My head nodded compliance and she left, the lights went out, and there I was enslaved, my cock hard as a Neanderthal's spear, my body unable to move, riveted to the floor by the burden of my submissive nature, a genetic role of the dice. A thing...born to be bound.

End Part 1