Ay: Nisan 2024

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is a continuation of the ‘A Tennessee Education’ and picks up immediately after its conclusion. Characters in this novel builds on the characters of the previous on and for that reason some content will not make complete sense without reading the earlier book. The theme of this work is about female dominance, femdom, a wife-led-marriage, and male submission/slavery. If this is not a relational style you enjoy I encourage you to look elsewhere for a good read. There are hundreds of choices on this site. I hope you enjoy the read.

*****

Bobby’s eyes fell on the black leather suitcase lying on Mistress Sharon’s bed when he pushed the door ajar and walked in. He realized she must have assumed things would go according to her plan. He grinned sadly at the thought of her premeditated outcome and how he had fit – or rather how he no longer fit – into it. The suitcase still had the price tag wrapped around the handle. Tearing it free he unzipped the top and tossed the lid open. Quickly pulling a chunk of hangers from the far corner of the walk-in closet; the small amount of space she allotted for his meager clothes, he tossed the small pile onto the bed. As he separated the few slacks and shirts he owned from their hangers he looked around the room. It held so many memories. So many hard memories and yet they were somehow recollections he came to view as being home and feeling normal; at least for him.

Looking to the far side of the bed his gaze fell onto the eye-bolts anchored in both the floor and ceiling and he was seized with emotion. He thought back to the year that had been his life. He was no longer the same man that left the small town of Randolph seeking fame and fortune when he got his first gig as an educational consultant at a failing city school system. Mariko had seen to that. Actually Mariko and his obnoxious attitude toward her and his co-worker had seen to that. Shaking his head and wiping a tear from his cheek he breathed deeply and exhaled audibly.

“Get a hold of yourself Bobby,” he said to no one in particular. “This place is no longer your home. Get over it! It’s time to move on.”

Yet the thought of his transition from an independent normal country guy to that of a dependent slave having no power, no worth and no promise of anything other than painful service to a mistress was one he sometimes felt incapable of fully wrapping his brain around. Never in his life did he ever think, dream or desire he’d be forced to live under the watchful eye of a woman. Never in his wildest dreams would he have ever imagined he or anyone else living in a free society might desire the life that became his reality. Mistress Sharon had revolutionized his worldview. She, with the help of her mentor Mariko saw in him what he had never seen in himself. He was a natural; a born slave; a man who thrived living in obedience to a strong woman. What Mistress had done to him and what he permitted her to do could never be fully comprehended.

How was it that he came to crave being publically embarrassed, humiliated, forced to endure beatings, unsanitary living conditions, and even being reduced to living as an animal and then have a mindset that viewed all of those horrific treatments as acceptable? Why had ne never gone to the authorities? Why had he not only endured all she did to break him but desire it? Of course Bobby knew the answers to these questions. It took him several months to fully understand but he now knew why. The answer of course was simple enough. He found security and self-worth in his dependent state. He loved being known as a man who was the property of a strong and confident woman. How many men could say that? Almost none, he was certain. Bobby didn’t want to be like mainstream society; at least not any more. He relished being different, not just to be different in and amongst itself but because the difference in his life had at its basis a higher calling. Matriarchy was not a figment of society’s imagination. Not any more. It was an up and coming trend and was one he knew would someday replace the barbaric qualities of patriarchy that left a trail of death, violence, abuse and female debasement in every culture in which it thrived.

Mariko was one such force of change in that realm. She along with thousands of others like her was changing the hearts and minds of women in their respective circles of influence and those circles were growing concentrically larger with each passing year. Mariko changed women and in the process forced changes in the men with whom those women interacted. Often, as in Bobby’s case, change did not come easily. Results were only seen by initially oppressing, restricting, debasing, and controlling a man akin to how military boot-camps handled new recruits. Following the mantra of breaking them down before remaking them into men of their liking they altered a man’s psyche one individual at a time. In Bobby’s case his mistress left off the latter part of that adage. She broke him and then severed their relationship while he was still in his broken state. But from his perspective, being broken wasn’t urfa escort such a bad thing because in the process he was able to serve. He was able to dote, admire, cater, please, and be known as hers! What more could he ever want in life?

His cage bumped into the wooden frame of the bed making him laugh. Not only had his outlook on life done a complete one-eighty but so did the performance of his cock. He had been locked in this thing for months now. How long had he been out? Two days, maybe a week at the most?” The cage had served as one of her key compliance-motivators to keep his sexual energy channeled toward her needs. And her methods worked. He loved pleasing Mistress. He ached to serve and for the past eight months or so did anything and everything to make her life more content – both in and out of the bedroom. Yet as good as his tongue was and even though he must have provided her with hundreds of orgasms, many so mind-blowing that it took her several minutes to recover, it wasn’t enough.

Today she had ended it all with one swift snap of the bolt cutters. Why she had done this, he could only guess. But the pain he felt when he realized she no longer wanted him was almost unbearable. He hated her for what she did. She left him speechless, numb and dumbfounded. Looking down at the two chunks of steel in his hand and staring numbly at them tears of sorrow cascaded down his cheeks and onto the cut steel. Slowly he pulled himself together and when he had regained his composure he tossed the broken collar halves into his bag. Just then Deb popped her head in the room.

“Hey, what are you doing?” she asked.

He didn’t turn around. His eyes were too bloodshot and he knew he looked pathetic. “Packing,” he muttered. “Sharon must have known I’d need a bag because this was on the bed when I came upstairs.” He nodded toward the suitcase still keeping his back to the soft voice behind him.

“Leave it. Just toss a few things in here and let’s get going.” She threw a small day pack in his direction. It landed in the center of the open leather bag on the bed.

“Yes Mistress,” he said automatically, slowly turning to look her way.

Debra beamed. “I’m not use to hearing that. Those words,” she added, “but they sound really nice.” It was then when she saw the distressed look on his face. “What’s wrong? You OK?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just trying to process all that’s happened in the past hour. That’s all.”

She gave him a hug and rested her head against his chest. “I know this must be tough. I can’t imagine how much she must have hurt you and I’m sorry. It wasn’t any of your doing. She wanted to move in another direction and that meant you had to go. You need to understand that.”

“I guess so. But it still hurts.”

She squeezed him tightly and then broke free and grasped both arms. She looked directly up into his blue eyes. “It’s time to move on – to move on with me.”

He smiled a forced smile. It was just so hard to make his mind move from one woman to another in a matter of minutes. It hurt so bad to lose Mistress Sharon. Maybe the pain felt so strong because he had invested so much of his life to please her. He was the one that had obeyed, who endured nights strung up in the basement or cabled to the ceiling eyebolt or anchored to the floor by the neck. He was the one who lived every night for months at a time in a cage made for a large dog. He was the one that cleaned, fixed, organized and managed her home. He was the one that licked the pussy of any woman whose legs she told him to kneel between. He did it all and he did it all with pride because he knew he belonged to her. He was hers for God’s sake! All she did was reap the rewards and benefits of his efforts. To say he wasn’t good enough for all of that effort is what the broken collar represented and that’s what burned at his soul so intensely. He simply didn’t make the grade, make the cut or measure up to whatever standard she sought. He was a nobody with a nobody. Actually he was with her sister but he knew she didn’t have a clue about how to mistress a man and that sucked. Yea she was gorgeous and yea, they seemed to get along but it felt like he was getting shafted albeit with the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

Bobby looked into the beautiful eyes of the woman holding him. Her gaze had captivated his imagination some months ago and now it was doing the same; this time slowly helping him to free his mind from the turmoil of the evening that was.

She smiled first and then brought his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it affectionately. Her eyes then moved to his crotch and she saw his cock squished inside the tiny steel cage. He was still naked; standing in front of her with no more concern than he would if he was standing in line fully clothed at a grocery checkout. In any other setting the sight of him would have probably repulsed her but in her sisters’ home it didn’t. It was just the way things were done here and she almost didn’t think twice about seeing him without any clothing covering his balıkesir escort midsection.

She fingered the cage grate that encapsulated his penis. It measured but a few inches in length and maybe half that in width. He appeared so diminutive inside that little prison. The sight of his tiny soldier brought her mind back to high school world history class. She remembered Roman’s castrating male slaves and still had visions of textbook pictures of men with tiny penis’ and no balls caring for female royalty. It almost made her laugh.

“I don’t think you’re going to get through gate security with this on. Take it off.”

“I don’t have the key,” he said innocently, not really in the mode for her cajoling sarcasm.

“I’ll get it.” And with that she bolted down the stairs while he abandoned packing the large bag in lieu of her request.

He tossed the collar halves in the bottom of the daypack and filled the rest with miscellaneous toiletries and two days’ worth of clothing. It was all the bag would hold. Scanning the room one final time his eye fell once more to the eyebolts. The ceiling one had a cable dangling freely and he walked over to where it hung. He pulled hard on the cord checking the firmness of the anchor which he knew was completely secure. Seeing the bolt in the floor was different. She had used this one to tether him to the planks below for countless nights when she finally upgraded his sleeping quarters from the outside cage to her bedroom. Most wouldn’t think of calling this a step-up but for Bobby it meant the world. He could sleep with her! He could hear her breathing, sense when she moved, and knew she now wanted her property secured in her very presence. The bolt was much more than a seventy-five cent chunk of hardware. It was a link to her. Not wanting to part with a keepsake holding so many unprocessed thoughts he rifled through his daypack, pulled out one of the steel halves, slipped it inside the eye and used it as leverage to unscrew it from the plank floor. Bobby threw everything back in and zipped the pack shut just as Deb reappeared holding the end of a gold chain between her thumb and forefinger. At the other end swayed the familiar key he had seen so often hanging between Mistress’ breasts. He smiled sadly.

“I see you found it.”

“Come here Bobby,” she said without pause. “Let’s get you out of that thing.”

Unabashed he strode over noticing the trembling hands grab the lock and insert the key before giving it a twist.

“Can you tell this is all new for me?” She asked not looking up from her work.

“It’s OK. I’m a little nervous myself.”

“You know,” she said, making eye contact with him, “it’s really good to hear you say that because I’m scared to death.”

“I’m not going to hurt you Deb.”

“I know that, but still,” she paused not knowing what to say. “It’s still scary. I hope I’m doing the right thing.”

“I’m glad you made the choice you did.”

She pulled the lock free of the cage. “Here,” stepping back, “you take that thing off.”

Bobby smiled. “And do what with it?”

“I don’t know.” She watched him pull the steel mesh free of his pocket-sized cock.

“Do you want me to leave it or take it?”

His cock grew rapidly, tripling in length and girth as soon as the restrictive bars were removed.

“Oh my!” Deb exclaimed. She watched in amazement at the transition from limp to full erection. “Oh my!” she said again. A smile grew slowly and steadily as she stared at the massive appendage now pointing directly at her.

Bobby blushed as he glanced first to Deb and then down at his manhood observing what had captivated her attention. “Is it OK?” He asked timidly, hoping to be reassured.

Deb didn’t answer. She didn’t move. She just stared. “Why did my sister want to keep this beautiful thing locked all the time?” She said quietly.

“Because, sh – -“

Deb held up her hand. “I don’t need an answer. I was just thinking out loud Bobby.”

She reached cautiously toward his staff and used the flat of her hand to caress the soft underbelly. Bobby twitched. It was her first touch of his prized possession. Deb held her hand open, letting the thick sausage rest on the outstretched palm. She felt its weight and warmth and felt a stir down below. It was a stirring caused by a man and one she hadn’t felt that in over a decade. Sure she had stirred the pot many a time by herself. She did it almost daily but this was different. She was holding a man’s genital and feeling something – something healthy for the first time in who knew how long. She gripped his pole. This thing was bigger than her hand. The thick bulbous head reached partway up her forearm. She slid her hand further underneath and cupped his swollen orbs. The size of two medium grade eggs, they were larger than what she had envisioned; all of him was larger than the tools her husband had. Maybe that’s why he stooped to such low standards when he recruited others to do his sexual bidding. She pushed the thought of that asshole trabzon escort out of her mind and centered her thoughts on him. Cupping his balls gently she fondled each one. The firm, fleshy, somewhat malleable balls slid around in the watery environment of his scrotal sack. Grabbing his cock once more she saw that when she cupped his nuts his shaft extended almost halfway up to her elbow. This thing was so beautiful – almost perfect!

Deb closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Was this really happening? Was she really going to do this? Did she actually feel that something – that emotion – that visceral reaction when she touched this part of him? Am I actually holding a man’s cock in my hand?” She pulled away suddenly and looked up.

“Put that cage in your pack and get dressed. Sharon is booking our flight now and we need to get going.”

Bobby thought she suddenly looked irritated. “Yes Mis, Ma’am, uh, what do you want me to call you?”

“Deb for now. We can talk about that later. I don’t want to miss our flight. Let’s go.” She turned to leave.

“Where is your bag?” He interrupted.

“At the front door. Now hurry.”

Bobby smiled; not because of her reaction to her touch. Indeed that felt wonderful. In fact he had never been blessed to have been examined by a woman as beautiful as she. What amused him was her reaction. He heard Mistress Sharon in her speech. They both had that pragmatic side. That ‘get moving now, we don’t want to be late’ side that he loved hearing so much. He wondered just how much the fraternal twin sisters really emulated one another. Indeed they were alike. He wondered if Deb was as particular as she appeared now with every part of her life. He hurriedly dressed, leaving the partially packed leather bag lying on Mistress Sharon’s bed.

“Goodbye Mistress. I will miss you,” he said quietly. Taking one last look at her bedroom he closed the door. A final tear rolled down his cheek as he did.

…

The cab pulled up to the curb and Bobby got out with an umbrella already open. He hurried around to the other side and helped Debra Ashby out. It was raining buckets. No sooner did her feet hit the pavement than were they lifted off the ground. Bobby scooped her lithe body up effortlessly while managing the umbrella and carried her to the shelter of the overhanging terminal roof. Hurrying back he grabbed their belongings and paid the Cabbie with a handsome tip Deb had given him earlier.

Deb smiled broadly as the two made their way inside. “I’m coming to like you more and more.”

“It was nothing.”

“Well nothing or not, I enjoyed the attention and your thoughtfulness.”

“Thank you. Miss… Can I call you Mistress?”

She stopped and pivoted immediately in front of him. They almost collided when she moved so quickly before him. “I said we’d discuss this later.” Her voice was soft yet firm and Bobby could tell he had overstepped his boundary by asking.

“I’m sorry. It just feels so odd to…”

Deb had already turned away leaving him expressing his thoughts to no one. It was then that he began to notice the attention they seemed to be drawing. To be more specific he noticed the attention she drew from others. Deb was a true head-turner. Not only were the guys craning their necks to gawk when she passed by but women too stopped to take in her physical perfection. No wonder she went so far in the state beauty contest. Ending up as the alternate for Oklahoma in the National Miss America pageant spoke volumes as to how perfectly put together this new Mistress of his was. Now, if he could only call her that.

Indeed she had a perfect body. She was long and lean with an ample bosom on a slender frame that made his mouth water. Bobby had a hard time keeping his eyes off the nubs that pushed against the thin material of her bra and top. Her ass was round and firm and she had the most beautiful legs. They were long and strong and – well they were perfect! From the moment he had first seen her he was struck by how flawless her facial features were. Large almond shaped eyes, a smile to melt any man’s heart, a sharp nose, full lips, nice cheekbones and impeccable skin made him swallow hard every time he saw her. She was simply that stunning.

It didn’t surprise him to feel the strength in her small body when he lifted her from the cab but to feel how light she was did. And maybe that was part of her feminine lure that captivated him so fully. Women of all types made his heart quicken when they asserted their dominance but a beautiful woman did so even more. It always made him wonder how someone so small could exude so much control over him when he could easily overpower her. Yet he found himself incapable of even thinking of going there. Maybe that was why Mariko and later Mistress Sharon had told him on so many occasions he was a born submissive. Maybe that’s why Mistress Sharon had devastated him. She had rejected and abandoned him. If it wasn’t for the hope that Deb gave him as a potential new mistress he’d probably be crying uncontrollably in some cheap hotel room in an attempt to come to grips with her actions. As things worked out he was moving from one sister to another although he had no idea what was in store for him with this one. Would she treat him the same? Different? Push him even further? Set him free? He had no idea but it felt good to be in the presence of another Ashby sister.

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