Million Dollar Mistress

Chapter 3

“This is perfect! Now I know how you can enslave him completely in one fell swoop! Oh, how positively Machiavellian! There’s this website I frequent for stories and ideas to keep things fresh for me and Paul. It’s called Degradatrix.com. Have you ever heard of it?”

Wendy shook her head, taking out a cigarette and lighting it up despite the no smoking signs. They were practically the only patrons left, and judging by their waiter’s behavior so far she doubted he’d have the balls to say anything about it. Kelly did likewise, and then continued.

“Well they’re sponsoring this femdom contest. Five couples, four acts before judges and a live audience. Basically it involves bondage and discipline. The prize is a million dollars. So what you do is dangle that money and portray entering as just another job, like performing in a play or a circus or something. Work on that shame of being a failure to get him to agree to try out. Then after you’ve submitted your application, it’s obvious that you need to practice techniques, right? So then you break out the whips and chains, combine that with orgasm denial and maybe cross-dressing, and by the time the contest rolls around it won’t matter if you’re accepted or not. It’ll be way too late for poor Will. By then he’ll be utterly enslaved and craving your abuse just like my ridiculous, c**k-locked cuckold Paul.

“Think about it!” Kelly exulted. “It’ll be just like the old days, when the Omega Tau frat used to send us their pledges for hazing. You and me, both beating the s**t out of bare male bottoms again and horribly humiliating them for fun! Remember how we used to bugger them for hours and even pee on them? And remember how many of them used to sneak back afterwards to secretly beg us for more?”

“I doubt anything would make Will go for that!” Wendy responded dryly, sending smoke rings across the now empty dining room with impunity. “I think he might even balk at the idea of an audience. Submitting to bondage in the bedroom is one thing; doing it before hundreds of people might be something else entirely.”

“Okay, so you conveniently forget to mention that part. Chances are about a thousand-to-one against you getting to compete anyway. I mean, this is just a ploy to finally break him down isn’t it? To shape him into the kind of guy who deserves to share the bed of a goddess like you?”

“Of course it is! All right, I’m convinced. Excellent idea, Kel! Here’s to you!”

Wendy did the toasting this time, and this time they drained their glasses. Butting their smokes on the leather cover of the wine list where they’d been casually tapping their ashes, the two undeniably superior females rose, dropped some bills on the table and strode out, still discussing strategy as they went.

Forty minutes later Wendy sat at her computer, having banished Will from the room. She quickly located the website and the contest it offered. Wholly approving its goals (both stated and unstated), she began chuckling as she digested the particulars.

Not just a theater audience of nearly a thousand, but an on-line and television audience of many millions! Not just a huge cash prize, but an opportunity to flaunt one’s superiority to an even vaster crowd in a more accessible and high-profile venue over an extended, indefinite period of time! And not just bondage and discipline, but far more degrading and personally devastating spectacles were planned too!

Suddenly Wendy wanted to use this opportunity not to just privately enslave her own mate, doing her own small part to further empower femininity at the expense of the subjected male s*x (as the organizers of the contest clearly hoped to inspire in millions of individual instances). Now she truly wanted to participate, displaying her pre-eminence for a properly awed world and subjugating her stubborn lover to a degree he couldn’t possibly conceive. More, she wanted to win, carrying both the banner of womanhood and her own personal aspirations to their greatest possible extreme. She wanted to be a Mistress Degradatrix the world would never forget!

Re-reading the details of the climactic ‘reward’ section of the competition, Wendy had to clutch herself and giggle like the schoolgirl she once was, recalling again the scenes from college Kelly had alluded to.

She most definitely had to conceal the nature of his eventual reward from Will as well as the size and even existence of the audience involved. The extreme cultural taboo he’d inevitably be breaking – whether they got to join the actual competition or not – would send him screaming for his mommy at the first hint if he wasn’t properly groomed first...

Wendy spent another twenty minutes savoring and gloating over every nuance of the page before her. Then she closed her browser and began laying plans: for later that night, the ensuing few months, and the rest of her entire exalted life.

Alex

Alexander Drake, 19, was the sole (if formerly out of favor) heir of Conrad Drake, an eminent attorney, businessman and prominent political figure in the small city of Eden, Massachusetts – recently deceased. Scarcely a month had gone by since that untimely passing. Now Alex lay naked in breathless anticipation on the enormous, canopied, four-poster bed in the ornate master suite of the mansion he grew up in – and now unbelievably owned outright. Still his nearly uncontainable excitement had nothing to do with this unexpected windfall beyond its enablement of a far more urgently obsessed on and lately ecstatically realized dream.

The huge room was gloomy in the extreme. Heavily brocaded curtains were closed over the many French doors. The single lit chandelier was the most distant one, and it was tuned to a low mellow glow. Centered high on a vast embroidered expanse of ghostly white coverlet in all this darkness, Alex seemed to float on the depthless feather mattress, as though it were a cloud adrift in benighted heavens. But this sumptuous and nearly surreal comfort also had very little to do with his dry mouth, sweaty palms, pounding heart, rapid breathing and repeated helpless shivers. Instead these had everything to do with his new and desperately beloved older-woman lover Nikki Washington, whom he awaited with the craving of Tantalus to rejoin him.

Of course he would have leaped mountains and swum oceans go to her instead – to say nothing of crossing a lush carpet to where a wardrobe door was delineated by thin seams of light. But this was currently not possible. As he’d been every night for the past ten days, Alex did not just lay upon his former parents’ bed. He was bound to it.

His hands were lashed together at the wrists with nearly a dozen tight loops of strong silken rope. From there they had been stretched above his head and secured to the heavy mahogany frame. His legs meanwhile were bound up completely flexed: each ankle similarly tied tightly to its corresponding thigh up high near his crotch.

That crotch meanwhile lay voluntarily exposed. Alex had his folded-up legs splayed out wide to either side, lying flat on the mattress in dead-frog fashion. The purpose of this was to proffer up with pathetically beseeching eagerness the focus of a secret, shameful yet uncontrollable fixation with which he’d forever been afflicted.

After a puberty and adolescence consumed by a desire he found too depraved to admit to, he’d just two years ago discovered an internet forum devoted exclusively to this particular fetish. Perhaps he wasn’t so singularly twisted after all…

Alex spent a sweaty eternity lurking. Finally he began timidly posting. And just a short fortnight ago he’d at last encountered a woman understanding and persistent enough to coax his shameful secret from him. Amazingly, unbelievably, she’d also proved eager to accommodate it. After a lifetime of yearning, after a year of futile searching, and after an interminable few days of travel the fabulous and incomparable Nikki Washington came and claimed young Alex in ways he was as helpless to articulate as to resist. Despite their differences in race and age (she was fifteen years his senior), despite the fact he knew next to nothing about her, Alex was as hopelessly in love with and madly committed to Nikki as a damned sinner redeemed by a deity. And any minute now she would descend again to both slake and feed his endless need…

At last the wardrobe door opened. And beautifully backlit, Alex’ African Queen was majestically framed in it. Surrounded by a corona of golden light, her lusciously voluptuous form was at first just an elemental shape: the classic hourglass, topped by a halo of shadow cast by an enormous afro straight out of the seventies.

This powerfully impactful vision seemed to epitomize the paradoxically comforting and intimidating aura she emitted: that of a worldly older woman from a bygone era of wildly hedonistic pleasures. Steeped in decades of accumulated carnal knowledge, a practiced adept at every conceivably depravity, her vast s****l experience imbued her with an accrued potency unimaginable to a novitiate like him. Earthy warmth and esoteric mystery radiated equally from this iconic Venus figure, and Alex found himself as full of worshipful awe as any confounded primitive. Then Nikki assumed her commensurately heavenly humanity by moving smoothly into the deep gloom of the room. Alex’ dark-adapted eyes began to pick out individual features then, each more desperately enthralling and yet humbling than the last.

First revealed was the obsidian shine of depthless eyes. Like pools of tar these were madly alluring but possibly treacherous, able to irrevocably suck in any unwary. Around these mutely laughing deeps slowly cohered the lovely and infinitely expressive facial features whose remarkable mobility could coax forth any emotion their owner willed, either from herself or others: the wide thick lips just made for kissing (or sucking); strong, shockingly white teeth flashing an articulate grin; cherubic cheeks dimpled with glee and that big flat nose amid-most.

Mischief, possessiveness, highly amused fondness and delightedly menacing intent were all conveyed there, eliciting the requisite fear, lust, humility, relief, love, and the mindless devotion of a particularly coddled pet from Alex’ squirming insides. Already she was playing him like Liberace on the piano. Unable to bear that complex mocking regard any longer, he dropped his gaze to less challenging but no less powerfully evocative sights.

Lushly padded yet firm-as-an-eggplant skin gleamed blackly, filling out squared shoulders, powerful arms, and then oh yes, those unbelievably sumptuous breasts. Despite their great size they sagged not a bit: ripely swollen globes delightfully upswept and emphatically capped, able to waggle about or jiggle like jell-o but as taut and resilient as milk-filled balloons when pressed or flogged against his fawning face.

A soft belly not nearly gone to fat followed, and then of course that voluptuous form flared out again. Nikki’s wide hips, large ass (bulbous and muscular from so much thrusting) and heavy-but-not-flabby thighs could easily smother a man in under a minute. Of course Alex couldn’t imagine a more blessed way to go. But then he could postpone the best no longer. Straining his gaze through the murk he sought out the iconic center of that wondrous lyre. And despite his recent enforced familiarity with what he found there he couldn’t help but pant and squirm with the most imperative excitement yet, fighting bonds both physical and psychological as emotions he was helpless to control overwhelmed him yet again.

Rather than a sweet little valley of welcoming fertility, jutting aggressively out from Nikki Washington’s vulva was an emphatically fearsome phallus. Larger than Alex’ own c**k by far, black as her surrounding skin and indistinguishable from it in the dark, Nikki’s always incredibly demanding erection curved so convincingly up that Alex had at first been sure it was truly organic. No harness or straps held it in place; that function (and obviously so much more) was served by a reciprocally curving inner shaft she clutched with her v****a: territory so far strictly forbidden to Alex.

Not that he cared of course. It was what Nikki did with her c**k – and to a lesser extent her hands, mouth and breasts – that had claimed Alex’ allegiance by finally making his life complete after a decade of lonely and ashamed desperation. For the tenth night in a row then, his sovereign older lover moved grinningly in on him to repeat the addictive experience.