Dueling View Points

Born a gimp, his only sexual relationship was with his hand. He had jerked off several times a day for almost every day of his life. At age 18, he discovered Female Domination sites on the internet, and he introduced rubber bands, a flexible steel ruler, and various clips, caps and other round objects that fit tightly about his erect cock into his masturbatory habit. Through college he advanced to toilet service and ball kicking fantasies; he never indulged in any of it in reality, just jerk-off fantasy.

In his senior year, his parents were hit by a drunk driver and he found himself completely alone --and the beneficiary of two large life insurance policies. Frugal by nature, he banked most of the money and set about looking for a modest apartment. The woman's voice who answered his call about the apartment sounded harsh and edgy; his cock had jumped in his pants as he imagined her to be a dominant. Little did he know.

The evening before the apartment appointment, he had jerked off three times imaging this landlady taking command over him and doing all sorts of nasty things to him, so as he stood before the door and knocked, his cock came to life within his pants. Answering the door was a woman in her late forties, dish water blond hair put up in a smart tight set, a flimsy light, white blouse without a bra that barely hid her huge DDD cup breasts that swayed and moved beneath the cloth, and legs like tree trunks, wild and pasty white. High heels pushed her a few inches above him in height; her short-shorts clung to her wide, round hips, and he wished her were behind her, so he could drop to his knees and shove his face into the crease of her ass. He was helpless as his erection brought his hands to his crouch in an effort to hide his uncontrollable arousal.

A young man with obvious shyness had called about the apartment. He sounded so god-damn young and easily manipulated. The last renters I had were true pains in the asses, so a submissive--easily controlled--one would be more comfortable. When I answered the door I made sure my physical appearance would knock his socks off, and it did for he stood there ashamed and aroused to the fullest. His little twig stiffening in his pants, and his eyes gobbling up my body. God, what a find. This would be too easy, so I knew I would own this slave before the day was done.

"Hello, Mr...Brooks...I assume," I said in my softest voice.

"Oh, yeah, that's me...sorry I'm early," he said sheepishly as his eyes drank in my knockers.

I extended my right hand to him, and he slowly reached and shook it as I could then more easily observe his erect manhood tenting his pants. I wouldn't doubt that he'd stain his pants in a few minutes with pre-cum. I pulled his hand into my apartment as I softly said, "Please come in, Mr Brooks, we should get to know each other for a few minutes before I show you the apartment."

"Yeah, okay," he meekly said as his other hand flitted about his crouch trying to hide his obvious excitement. Men of all ages couldn't help having the reaction this pup was having, and for the last thirty years my body had gotten me pretty much whatever my heart and pussy desired. Age hadn't slowed that down, but this one was born for the floor, on his knees, serving me and my dominant friends. God, he was an open book and it read gimp--please take me and use me for whatever purpose you desire. And you better believe I intended to do just that --and more with this skinny ass piece of shit.

The apartment, clean, modern and sparsely decorated with the far wall having several pictures hung in a fashionable, artistic design, but the young man's eyes were frozen in their stare at the woman's charms. It would only be later that he would realize they were fine art prints from the book, The History and Arts of the Dominatrix.

"So," she began, "where do you work?'

"I...just...recently graduated from college and I haven't secured a job as of yet," he managed to ejaculate with obvious awkwardness.

"Well," she said with her normal but deep voice, "how, may I ask, are you going to pay your rent?"

"Oh, not to worry. My parents were killed in an automobile accident a few months ago and I was the beneficiary of their life insurance policies," he answered as he lowered his eyes and hoped she would not be prejudiced against his getting the apartment.

'I see," she said as she stood. "Let's go and see the apartment." She gestured toward the door as he stood. "Follow me." Inside, she was overwhelmed with thoughts of taking over this slave and his money. "God, what a find," she exclaimed to herself and her pussy slowly leaked.

His eyes widened as she walked; he watched in complete fascination as her large bubble ass undulated beneath her shorts. He thought of two Virginia hams and his mouth salivated with lust, and he imagined his face deep between her ass crack, inhaling her spicy aroma, tasting her pungent ring.

"I will need first and last month's rent and a security deposit--oh, the rent is as advertised...seven hundred per. So I'll need a check for twenty-one hundred."

"Yes, of course," he said as he barely heard her words as his imagination ran wild staring at her ass.

The apartment was clean and in great shape, two bedrooms and a dining room--just as the advert explained. She turned and his head was still staring down at her ass as she said, "Well, what do ya think?"

"I'll take it," he blurted out as he fumbled in his pocket for his check book.

The ritual exchange of money and paper over, he found himself seated and questioned about his circle of friends and relatives, and during the brief exchange something had changed slowly and subtly. He found himself knowingly becoming aware of his enslavement to her--how much she will take of his submissiveness and masochism, only time will tell, but he released himself and he become like a feather, afloat on the currents derived from his Mistress.

Slave mind, a somewhat hidden script within his consciousness, reached its powerful hand and engulfed his consciousness in the arms of thoughtlessness and suggestion, a self induced hypnotic state that can be controlled and used by a dominant; his heads reversed positions of authority and awareness. Helplessly, he now thought with his cock; his mind had willingly submerged into a haze of submission and acceptance, punishment and shame --and the ultimate death wish of castration, or the somewhat less endearing --the noose.

"Stay seated here until I return," she commanded, and he froze within himself, knowing there was no turning back. A wave of release overcame him as he tossed his freedom away for her complete control. And at the same time, his cock, harder than ever before in his life, became him. For the last time. he went down into it and his mind emptied --until, in what appeared to be but a minute, she reappeared before him.

Black, knee-high, patent leather boots with four inch heels, sheer panties and nothing else adorned he voluptuous body --a leather crop in her right hand and a leather collar and leash in her left,. She raised her foot and stepped on the couch's corner revealing under the moisture soaked, sheer panties her shaven, hairless pussy--only a few feet from his face. Glistening moist, her pussy's lips opened invitingly like a flower.

"Get on your knees, slave," she said in a rigid tone.

He slid to the carpet, trembling, lost to his submissive nature. Slowly she fitted the collar about his neck and she jerked it to get his attention--which she did.

"Sit, boy, and remove all of your clothing...quickly, or else taste this crop across your back." Within a minute he knelt before her naked as the day he slid from his mother's opening. And...as on that day, his cock was as rigid as steel.

"This is what you crave..am I right, boy?" she asked in a sultry tone as her fingers traced an outline around her mound.

"Yes...Mistress," was all he could manage. And he felt like a child, a naughty child in need of punishment --and each time she called him boy, he fell further into an imaginary but real pit of shame and humiliation.

"Yes, you crave and lust for a dominant woman to take control of your life, to put you in your place, to punish you," she said. She placed the end of the crop, a flat paddle an inch and half wide on his right cheek. "You have never been punished, have you, boy?"

"No, Mistress. I've never...served anyone...only in fantasy."

"Earlier today, your stares at my tits were excessive, so I have decided you should be punished --what is your opinion?

"I stared too much, Mistress. Punish me."

Her wrist moved with quick and deft moves as the flat end of the crop slashed into his cheek, providing sharp, sudden jolts of pain that accumulated and exploded in his brain; at ten slaps she stopped and spoke, "You deserve a hundred more for being so submissive, so much the gimp. Your eyes devour my pussy. You want it, don't ya, boy?"

"Yes...Mistress."

"You want to smother in its folds and drink its moisture and piss

Indeed, he had heard her say a hundred more, and somewhere deep inside him an old voice urged him to beg for the hundred, to take the journey, a descent into an explosive all-consuming pain, but the image of her pussy before him overwhelmed him. He lusted for one thing at that moment in time that he should open his mouth and use his long tongue to clean up that swirling juicy pussy fresh with her erratic, jumping urine flow. His mouth opened slightly; he impulsively drooled, his mouth leaking saliva like his cock did pre-cum at that thought.

"No begging, so few words. Here," and she reached out and pulled his face into the moist gusset area; his nose smelled her dominant arousal leaking into her panties and the nose felt the moisture forming from her dominant arousal. His adamant, erect cock announced to the world; the cock yelped, a rousing scream of nature, "I was born for this; it is my true nature to be a gimp and to be easily and completely captured in the net of domination that lived and breathed in his Mistress' veins, looks and actions.

"Yes, breathe deep my gathering scent, for it will be the dominant aroma in your life, the very reason you breath. When you get a whiff of me, your cock will explode into erection, your mind will cease thought, your body will crave the whip dancing over your skin, your balls will beg to be kicked, and your mouth will water as it awaits my pussy's acrid piss or ass' pungent taste. Go ahead, stick out your tongue and slowly lick my panties, boy; oh, yes, that's it, boy. Learn your Mistress' taste."

She held his face between her legs as he mindlessly licked her panty's gusset; his tongue darted in and out as if he were a lizard; no thoughts crossed his mind, only the sensation of her taste bursting like an exploding sun or a nuclear bomb, his Mistress's special taste wormed its way into the deep recesses of his mind, commanding and controlling the slave's olfactory system, taking up permanent residence, becoming the taste he would seek and be completely submissive to --and relish now and forever. Amen.

She pushed him back on his heels and in quick succession and slapped his face with the crop's end ten more times; stunned, he heard, at some point after wards, her command to open his mouth wide. She had removed her panties, pissed in a bowl, and had soaked the panties in the bowl as he drifted between consciousness and pain-induced delirium.

Her fingers stuffed the panties into his mouth, as she yelled, "Open wider, boy." Piss drizzled down the back of his throat as her true taste spread like a virus throughout his body. And he gagged and sputtered and coughed as she adjusted a ball-gay into his mouth and secured it about his head.

Slowly, his mind caught up with reality, and he sucked at the panties realizing he was ingesting her piss and his mind flooded with her piss, filling in every crease and cranny of his brain --all other impulses and thoughts --captured and made prisoners in a war completely won upon under taking and his eyes opened and he saw her naked pussy before his face. And his cock exploded in orgasmic revolt, spitting streams and ropes of cum out and onto her boots, he was enraptured, trapped, and damned to the life of a gimp. And he wanted more and more --to lap up his own cum from her boot, to suck its heels, to deep throat her 6" heels.

The Mistress stared at the captured gimp. She felt neither joy or sorrow at his fate; she only knew she would use him up --until the day he bored her; until then, she and her friends would relentlessly use him day in and day out, and, judging by this recent example of how easy he fell into submission; its steel-like jaws snapping shut and digging in not only to his flesh's deepest part but into the complete mind, owning all the sense, possessing the the light switch to his conscious and unconscious spheres. He would relish pain, humiliation, torture and sadism as much as she all her friends enjoyed dishing it out. She handcuffed him, placed the noose about his neck, and pulled it tight so he was on his toes as she tied it off. She gripped the crop tightly and readied to whip him as her pussy leaked moisture he would shortly slather up with his tongue when she finished cropping him.

The panties still leaked down his throat, his ass, aflame, began to redden, and the pain filled him like electricity. The only small thought that crept along his neural pathways --the desire to have the ball gag removed so he could beg for her to give him the hundred slashes she had mentioned. The gimp was destroyed before he even began his journey.

The first crack across his buttocks startled, the second crack decimated whatever was left of ego or self. She leaned in and whispered in his ear in her sexiest voice, "You will be my complete toilet slave, you will clean my pussy after sex, after a piss, after a shit and consume all that flows my my body. Shake your head if you understand and agree."

And his head violently nodded approval as he sucked for his life from the piss-drenched panties.

Three and four. "You will serve as a toilet at my parties with as many as thirty people having use of you. Shake your head if you understand and agree."

Five and six. "You demand to be punished by being a depraved submissive will continue after today --so think of today as a mild day of punishment. I love the crop and the other dozen different lashes I own. I need no reason to punish you; I am falling down in domination if I ignore you punishment needs. I love the strap on for your asshole, and fisting, of course. And within a few minutes, I will fit a chastity devise on you that will painfully remind you every second you have an erection that you are enslaved, completely own by me. Shake your head if you understand and agree."

Seven and eight " "You have accomplished your mission in life --you examined your life and discovered what nature meant you to be, a gimp submissive, so you are as as self-actualized as most successful men, may of which belong here before me, but they live in fear of becoming self-actualized by becoming an active, submissive slave. {How about you, gimp?}

Nine and ten. "I am finished with this. I will remove the gag and the panties and use your mouth as a toilet, for now you are my ass and pussy cleaner, my shit eater, my toilet paper, my shit slave. Shake your head if you understand and agree."

Nodding yes, he found his absolute place in the universe --beneath her --now and forever. Amen!

No power struggled existed within him, only the powerful force of her dominant will over his. Some last bit of self clicked into place and he relaxed into an almost delirium state staring up at her descending bottom which would soon engulf his face; his tongue darted out and saliva collected at the back of his throat.

Nature or nurture? --email your thoughts.