Tales of Love & Cruelty

Chapter 1

Table of Contents

Title Page

Valentine’s Night

After-dinner Extravaganza

Slut-boy’s Reward

Penis Play

A Killer Crush

Blind Surprise

Home Coming

Triple Play

Reflections

Triple Play Redux

Chat Doom

“All right,” I grinned, not surprised but still amazed how easy this was after all this time. “All you have to do is give up your pointless former life and move in with me. You will be my slave, my property. And I will be your owner and Mistress, the ass-master of your darkest, wildest dreams. Do you agree?”

Crucio

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! OOOOOOOHHHHHH YES!!!”

Another pillow under his butt elevated his hips, maximizing my penetration. Pumping my body deliriously back and forth, feeling his c**k press rhythmically against my g-spot, I was screaming out my second orgasm of the afternoon when I heard him too cry out in release a split-second before his seed began spurting up into me. Faster still I f****d him, riding out our glorious mutual climax until at last he stopped ejaculating and the spastic contractions in my own loins had petered out. Then I slumped exhausted atop him, pressing my cheek against his and panting in recovery. Finally I slipped off to the side. Caressing him lovingly, I murmured my heart-swelling bliss.

“Oh, Cindy, of course we do,” he replied. And yet he hesitated a bit at first, causing me to sit up and frown down at him.

“Nothing!” he protested. But he dropped his gaze as he did so, focusing on my admirably flat belly instead of my deep brown eyes.

“I’m not shy,” he murmured, disproving this by remaining unable to meet my playful gaze.

“It…it…it’s too hard for me to say,” he stammered. “You’ll laugh at me. You’ll think less of me because of it.”

“Jerry look at me. Look at me!” Employing the combination of loving sternness I’ve found most effective at penetrating his defenses, I finally got him to meet my eyes.

Squirming, he dropped his eyes again. Patiently I waited him out. Finally he began to speak in a voice so low I had to strain to hear it.

Here my shy little white boy stumbled into silence. Already I was glowing inside at the thought of the scenario he so reluctantly described. What a turn-on! Yet clearly there was something else he was holding back, something so outrageous he still couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Determined to hear all, I put my hand under his chin and tipped his madly blushing face up to mine.

“I would love to control you this way. I find the thought unbearably exciting. From this moment on, I am your Mistress. You will obey me in everything, or never get s*x again. Now, as your Mistress I order you to continue. Tell me your deepest, darkest, most secret desires. I can’t fulfill them if I don’t know what they are.”

“I want you to beat me,” he husked. “Slap me, spank me, paddle me with your hairbrush; even whip my ass with a belt. I want you to tie me up, both for s*x and whenever you feel like it. Make me do all the chores and pamper you incessantly. I…I want you to denigrate and humiliate me. And I want…I want…I want…”

“I ordered you to tell me everything, boy! Now that you’ve told me this much I intend to marry you, and rule over you like a goddess for your entire life. But I won’t do it unless you divulge to me the very nadir of your desperately submissive soul!”

“I want you to f**k me in the butt,” he whispered, “With a strap-on dildo. Whenever and however and as often you want. I want you to make me into your simpering, sissy little slut-boy, wholly enslaved to your demanding anal appetites.”

What would it feel like: turning the tables on a guy and making him take the c**k, and whenever I wanted it? Suddenly I couldn’t wait to see. Twenty minutes after multiple orgasms and I was horny as hell again already. I looked down from Jerry’s leaking eyes and quivering chin and saw that despite his obvious overwhelming shame he too was again aroused, his p***s fully erect.

With that I swung back astride my beautifully timid and submissive white slave and f****d him to three more incredibly intense orgasms. Then I showered, dressed, and left him vacuuming the apartment in a flowery, lacy apron I forced him to wear. Tingling with excitement I went out shopping (with his wallet of course) for the many things our wild new s*x life would require.

First, I placed the biggest, firmest pillow we owned in the center of the bed. I laid out four coils of tough but soft cotton cord, my new riding crop and a tube of lubricant. After that I stashed a few other very special surprises for him in the middle compartment of the headboard. Then, my breath already heavy with excitement, I donned my new dominatrix outfit.

Shiny steel spikes glittered about the circumference of this, to match those on my bra. It wasn’t much of a bra really: just thin strips of supple black leather that harnessed and uplifted my big bare double-D breasts and wrapped about my neck and back. Then it was time for my most exciting purchase of all.

Jerry was just finishing up, polishing the hood over the stove to a mirror gloss. Afterward he turned and saw me standing there: legs spread, fists on my hips, that dark scowl claiming my lovely face. His eyes bugged wide, his jaw dropped, and the cleaning rag fell from nerveless fingers. Most telling of all his c**k began to twitch, and then rapidly rose and hardened as I barked at him.

“No, Mistress! Right away, Mistress!” he blurted. When he turned back from depositing it in the sink I was gratified to see that he was fully erect, in fact his c**k was bigger and more rigid than I’d ever seen it.

“Look at me, slave!” I barked out again. More excited by the second, I found this wasn’t a performance at all, but instead a long repressed extremely dominant personality emerging in me. Freed at last by my new slave’s needs this cruel persona was quickly utterly remaking me, and woe to the foolish white boy who’d brought this on himself!

“Well, slave, are you ready to become my slut-boy? You know that after this experience nothing will ever be the same between us. I will own you body and soul, prick and bung-hole, and I will use either of the latter as often or as seldom as my appetites require. You will have no choice but to submit to my every punishing whim!”

“Very well,” I menacingly intoned. I stepped forward, grabbed his hair and pulled him to his feet. “Come with me, slave!” Seizing him by the erection (and still secretly marveling at the size and steely hardness of it) I dragged him by the c**k into our bedroom-c*m-slave chamber.

“Before you can become my slut-boy, you have to prove that you have what it takes to be my b***h,” I warned him. “I’m going to be beating you every day, probably many times a day, paying back your race for centuries of slavery. Now the tables are turned, and I’m going to make what your ancestors did to mine look like child’s play. Let’s just see if you can handle it, slave!”

After that I was lost in a red haze of fury, raining blows on my slave’s honky ass with all the power and passion of undiluted insanity. For twenty minutes or more I pitilessly whipped him with my crop, his nonstop screaming and sobbing only fueling my overriding need to inflict pain. By the time I’d exhausted myself his entire ass was a bright cherry red from the slapper overlaid by dozens of livid purple welts from the shaft. Temporarily sated, I cast the crop aside, went to my still sobbing slave and grabbed him by the hair. I pulled his head up to face me, wondering how I could ever have loved such a weak, contemptible specimen of humanity. Clearly this creature existed only to be enjoyed and used, and made to suffer continuously.

“Yes, Mistress,” he sobbed and sniveled. “I promise I will suffer anything for you, if only you’ll f**k my butt. Won’t you please make me your slut-boy now?”

The terrified expression on his face made me want to burst out laughing, and almost convinced me to carry out my threat. But then my foolishly devoted slave swallowed hard, and bravely bid me do as I desired.

Well, he couldn’t speak fairer than that. And truly I was cresting with a desperate lust myself to deliver my first ever butt-f*****g. I chose to let him believe I still had an once of mercy left in me.

I opened the headboard and withdrew a large black ball-gag. Laughing pitilessly at my slave’s wide-eyed shock I forced the ball deep into his mouth and buckled the strap tightly behind his head.

Laughing nastily again at the sudden uneasiness in his eyes (surely he was beginning to realize that even his fondest dream would prove far more than he bargained for in reality), I scooped up the tube of lubricant and slathered up my giant black c**k with thick, oily goop. Then I moved around to kneel between his stretched-out and securely bound legs. Slapping his sorely wounded ass for emphasis, I spread his cheeks and lined my big violating black prick up with his pink, puckered little hole.

And with that I was again suddenly overwhelmed by madly sadistic zeal. Utterly possessed by both demonic vengeance and electrifying s****l excitement I slammed my hips forward, ramming my big erection as hard as I could all the way up into my new slut-boy’s butt on the very first stroke.

My days of letting men inside me were over! From now on I would only be f*****g them! Energized even more by this realization I somehow managed to accelerate my already maddened attack further. Finally, I became dimly aware of Slut-boy’s wildly hysterical shrieking and sobbing. Audible even through the obstruction of the gag, this evidence of his excessive suffering acted on me like an additional aphrodisiac, driving my sadistic transport even higher and inspiring me to even more impossibly ecstatic exertions. Adrenaline flooded my system, enabling absolutely superhuman capabilities, and I pounded and pounded my erection into Slut-boy like the runaway pneumatic drill I’d assumed was simply hyperbole. Even when my first orgasm ripped through me (by far the most intense ever) I couldn’t begin to dream of stopping. I merely screamed it out and redoubled my efforts, hammering my way to one, two, three more explosive climaxes before ordinary mortality finally reclaimed me. At last I was forced to pull all the way out of Slut-boy’s badly-ravaged ass and collapse gasping on the bed next to him, reveling in the auditory ambrosia of his hysterical sobbing as I slowly recovered.

“There, there, Slut-boy, calm down. Easy now, relax. Your very first butt-f*****g is in the books. And if it was more painful and violent than you’d counted on, at least it’s over now, and eventually you may come to enjoy it as much as I did. And just think: you’re now officially a slut-boy, my Slut-boy, just as you’ve always dreamed. And in honor of this wonderful occasion I have a couple more presents for you. Don’t you want to find out what they are?”

“Good, Slut-boy,” I breathed. “The first gift I have for you is just that: your new name. From now on you shall be known exclusively as Slut-boy. And when we are married, and you take on my last name, we will have your former first name legally changed. Just think of the exquisite humiliation of signing every document ‘Slut-boy’, and seeing that name on every piece of correspondence that comes to you. You will never be able to go an hour or a day without remembering this momentous night. And as for your other present, I have it right here…”

“You see what it says, Slut-boy?” I asked, holding it up in front of his appalled and horrified eyes. “This one has your name, Slut-boy, on it and the other one says ‘Property of Mistress Cindy’. Now everyone you meet wherever you go will know exactly what you are and to whom you belong.”

“There! You’re mine forever, Slut-boy. And now to celebrate this glorious occasion I’m going to f**k your deliciously slutty butt some more!”

One advantage of this was that I was able to keep slapping his ass and hip as I f****d him, and I had the breath to spare to keep up a constant stream of vilely denigrating talk. Degrading him as he craved was enjoyable for me too, and so our second f*****g began well and ended wonderfully – especially for me.

Continuously degrading him thus I drove my hard prick in and out of him in a steady, measured succession of thrusts, husbanding my slowly returning strength for the manic ass-attack I knew I’d eventually again be delivering. And gradually Slut-boy began to accept and respond to both my denigrating monologue and the long-sought, even more degrading sensation of having his rectum raped. His sobs ceased, replaced by eloquent rhythmic grunts forced out of him by each inward thrust of my p***s. His hands wrapped themselves about the ropes and he raised his hips to me, betraying his growing eagerness for that oh-so shameful penetration.

“Yeah, you like it now, don’t you Slut-boy? You absolutely love it, you d**k-slave little b***h! Listen to you moaning like the sluttiest she-male strumpet! You’re learning to live for my c**k now, aren’t you? Well let’s just see how much you love it when I start drilling into you like a jackhammer again! Will you be grunting and groaning still, or sobbing and shrieking like the last time? I can’t wait to find out!”

Slut-boy soon began sobbing again, but still he strained his ass higher, desperately welcoming each ever-deeper agonized intrusion. Utterly at the mercy of my pounding rhythm his body lurched back and forth on the bed, its momentum snubbed by the binding ropes but still the helpless plaything of my incredibly powerful thrusts. More completely under my control than he’d likely ever dreamed of being, he must have been at the absolute apogee of his shamefully perverse submission compulsion. And when at last my blazing ecstasy exploded in yet another convulsive orgasm, my fifth of the night, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Slut-boy give a telltale cry and writhe atop the pillow in a wonderfully tormented ejaculation of his own even as I hammered harder and faster than ever into his accepting rectum.

I pulled out of Slut-boy’s now gaping ass and moved up the bed to confront his tear-streaked face. Once again I lifted his head by the hair and scowled sternly down.

Slut-boy’s trepidation at my tone was palpable. Nevertheless he nodded after only the slightest hesitation.

Whimpering with dread he shook his head.

Whimpering still, Slut-boy nodded obediently. Satisfied with his submissive deportment I dropped Slut-boy’s head to the bed and retrieved my riding crop, feeling that wonderful sadistic zeal swelling within me once again the second it was in my hand. Intensely eager to deliver the upcoming beating I moved to the foot of the bed and positioned myself by the sole of his helplessly bound left foot. Then I took a deep breath to tap that inexhaustible well of vengeful sadism in me and began slashing that crop against the sensitive arch.

I cast aside my riding crop, and began untying the ropes from the four bedposts. Once they were free I ordered Slut-boy to roll over. I positioned him on his back, with the pillow now under his ass and another supporting his head, just as I’d had him that afternoon. Then I re-tied his arms stretched out wide, leaving his legs free for the moment. I spread these wide as well, and then opened that compartment one last time. Retrieving his ultimate gift, I closed it in my hand and knelt by his elevated waist.

Warily Slut-boy nodded, still sniffling and looking absolutely delicious with his puffy, reddened eyes and tear-streaked face.

I opened my hand then, and showed him the shiny steel c**k-cage I’d used his money to purchase. His red-rimmed eyes bugged wide upon seeing it, and he made some foolish protest that the ball-gag garbled into unintelligibility. Laughing wickedly at his consternation, I fitted that implacable chastity device over his genitals, tightened the manacle about the base and used a tiny silver key to lock it in place. Then I strung the key on a fine-link chain and hung it around my neck, where it glittered prettily, tantalizingly between my breasts.

“There!” I declared. “If you ever want your p***s freed even briefly, you must dedicate yourself whole-heartedly and single-mindedly to serving me slavishly and impeccably with the utmost adoring devotion every second of your existence. Otherwise you have just experienced the last erection and orgasm of your entire life!”

With that accomplished I just had to celebrate some more. Raising Slut-boy’s legs above his head, I bound his ankles to the same bedposts as his wrists, securing him doubled up and splayed out wide, with his extensively wounded inside-and-out ass raised up high. Then I lubed up again, knelt before him again and resumed f*****g his ass with that same mad passion that I was sure could never stale.

Well, maybe not the missionary position exactly – only when I was too exhausted to do otherwise did I actually lay atop his splayed-out body, crushing him to the bed as he used to do to me and pumping relentlessly up into him. No, I found it far more rewarding to be propped above him on palms and toes with my breasts dancing just inches above his face while I used gravity and my own endlessly escalating passions to hammer down into him harder than ever. And if my dangling breasts bounced and flopped all about just above him in an absolutely maddening display that deceiving key flew about more wildly still, constantly striking him on the nose, chin, forehead, and right between the eyes. Best of all, those eyes were just below mine, and I was able to demand over and over again that he maintain a humiliating eye contact with me as he was so brutally buggered, surely the worst kind of emotional torment for such a squirmingly shy little Slut-boy. Ah god, it was heaven, and it seemed impossible that I could ever get enough of f*****g him thus. But finally in the wee hours of the morning I found I could sustain my insane exertion no longer. I simply had to get some sleep, the better to punish and f**k my slut even more extravagantly on the morrow. Drenched in sweat, still tingling with the incredible neural aftermath of uncounted orgasms, I at last rose from my f****d-into-oblivion adoring white slave and again untied the ends of those ropes from the bedposts.

Next I used the other two ropes to lash his already bound wrists together before stepping up onto the footstool and threading the ends through that ceiling-high screw-eye. Stepping down and kicking the stool out of reach, I hauled on those ropes until Slut-boy was stretched up like a rubber-band, hanging by his wrists with just the tips of his bare toes touching the ground. Satisfied at last I tied him off thus and turned my back on him, leaving him ball-gagged and stretched-out bound until I was ready to use him again the next noon. That would be soon enough to teach him how to suck my c**k…

Stripping off my outfit I headed exhausted for bed, infinitely gratified at the amazing changes just one day had made in my life – and all because my boyfriend had hesitated just a bit before agreeing that our s*x life was the best. Chuckling wearily to myself, I had to consider his reluctantly revealed shameful secret fantasy fulfilled!

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Caught, Taught, Tamed & Trained, More Slut-boy Stories

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