BONDAGE FOR THE QUARTERBACK

BONDAGE FOR THE QUARTERBACK   by Long Tall Mary

My name is Jeff, I am 18 years old, and was the highest rated high school quarterback in all of Central New York. Jeff isn’t my real name and I’m not going to identify either the high school or college, where I was accepted at. Suffice to say it is outside of New York, and is one of the top ten NCAA football teams. I plan to major in physical education, and probably in my freshman year will be a back up quarterback, then as a sophomore I’ll be the starter.

At 6’3, 190 pounds, I’m athletic and good looking. I can date any female I wish at the high school, and my last three intimate females have all been cheerleaders. I enjoy playing one female off against the other, which my looks and personality enable me to do. My sex life has been rather conventional, consisting mainly of protected coital sex and oral sex.

For some time I have harbored a strong bondage fantasy, that of being forced to serve a dominatrix. I’ve read enough on the Internet to form a good idea as to how the lifestyle is practiced. Paradoxically, despite my macho personality, I’ve felt no desire to force bondage sex upon another female; such as by tying her up. My current girlfriend would probably permit it, but if I suggested that I be submissive to her, my public image would be ruined.

Recently I was searching the web site Collarme, seeking a dominatrix locally. Of several that were featured, the one that appealed to me the most was one who is 60 years old, and 6’0 tall, her name was Long Tall Mary. The fact that someone could be that old, and still be an active dominatrix, really enhanced her erotic appeal.

The next step was sending Long Tall Mary an Email requesting a session with her, along with my photo. I wasn’t overly eager to send my photo to a stranger, but her profile stated no replies would be made to letters without one. Since her photo was with the profile, I felt a little more comfortable about sending mine.

Within twenty four hours I received an Email reply from the Mistress. Due to her concern that I might be under eighteen years of age, she insisted we meet at Carousel Center, which is a gigantic shopping mall on the periphery of downtown Syracuse. I was to bring my drivers license as proof of age; further I was to address her as “Mistress” unless we were in a public place with other persons present.

Within fifteen minutes of my first phone call to the Mistress, the call was returned. She sounded quite stern in demeanor and refused to discuss any specifics of the planned encounter. It was agreed that we would meet the next morning at 10:00, in the food court adjacent to the merry go round. As we had seen each others picture, no difficulty identifying each other was expected.

I arrived at the Carousel about ten minutes prior to the scheduled appointment. About five minutes later I saw her walk in from the concourse and up to the table I was sitting at. She was attired in a black leather dress along with fashion heels, these made her seem much taller than six foot.

“Good morning Mistress”, I stated as she approached. Without prompting I showed her my drivers license which she examined closely, before indicating she was satisfied as to my age. She took the initiative with the questioning, probing closely into my sexual experiences and my motivation for submitting to a dominatrix.

Mistress informed me the cost of a three hour session would be $300.00, which she assured me was a bargain, and was offered in part because of my limited income. I could expect to be subjected to cock and ball torture, flogging, restraint and other unspecified activities. She assured me of her superior ability to not push a sub beyond their limit.

She also indicated that many of her male subs were cross dressers and I was strongly encouraged to arrive wearing female attire; if not she had a limited wardrobe at her dungeon for use by subs. Another preference she would honor, if I wished, was inviting one or more male subs for a group session. I sense she was somewhat perturbed when I told her I wasn’t into cross dressing, or playing with other males. However at the time I had no reason to believe that she would force me to engage in any activity, which I found objectionable.

My appointment was scheduled for 10:00AM the following day. She gave me her address, which is in a rural section of Camillus; to prevent any of her visitors from going to the wrong house she had a miniature traffic light on her front lawn, and  it would display a green light upon my arrival, something I thought was a really clever idea.

Having been forewarned of her fixation with punctuality, I parked my car in her driveway at precisely 10:00AM, and as instructed entered the garage through the walk in door, then knocked on the inner door. Within thirty seconds the Mistress appeared and opened the door, she was dressed in a black vinyl two piece outfit, consisting of pants and a zippered upper.

I promptly handed her the envelope containing the $300.00 and without saying a word, she beckoned me to follow her to the living room. It was there that she issued her first command, that being to strip naked and to leave my clothes neatly on the couch. I quickly complied and stood before her at rigid attention, she then remarked “you are quite muscular for a slut”. This immediately caused some concern, as slut refers to females, and I had already made clear that I had no interest in cross dressing.

She had already instructed me the previous day that I would speak only if spoken to first. Before I could give the matter any further thought, she directed me to put my hands behind my back and quickly used a pair of steel handcuffs to secure them. Next came a leather slave collar which was fastened uncomfortably tight, but I decided against any protest.

At this point my erection was quite rigid and this did not escape the attention of the Mistress. “We’ve got to tame that cock” she quipped, and proceeded to attach a ring device around the penile shaft. To the ring were attached protruding spikes, whose purpose was to cause pain in the event of an erection. I quickly lost mine when the device was padlocked into place; it was still painful even as my cock remained flaccid.

A leash was attached to the collar and I was guided to the basement dungeon. I found it awesome; it contained a real jail cell, a dog style cage, a pillory device, a ceiling winch and cable, along with numerous whips, paddles, and restraining devices mounted on the wall. My rear cuffed wrists were attached to the cable and it was pulled upwards, leaving me bent over at nearly a forty five degree angle. “My subs aren’t allowed to be overly comfortable”, Mistress remarked smilingly.

I was then gagged using a large red ball attached to a black leather strap; the ball was stuffed in my mouth and the strap was then buckled behind my head, leaving me unable to speak intelligibly.

She then informed me that the flagellation stage of the session was to commence, and I was to endure about fifty strokes, of progressively increasing intensities, to my buttocks. Mistress made it a point to show me each of the devices being used; a rectangular wood paddle, a cat of nine style flogger, and a bamboo cane The cane was the most painful of the three, and by the time all the strokes were complete I was feeling significant pain, and could only imagine that I would be sore for several days.

After the flagellation was complete Mistress told me what “a good little slut I had been”; again I feared that she would force some surprise upon me. She then proceeded to modify my bondage. A leather cuff was placed on each ankle and secured to floor bolts about three feet apart; most welcome was that she rearranged my wrist cuffs so they were cuffed in the front, and then were pulled over my head and attached to the overhead. It was far more comfortable than having them winched upwards behind my back.

Mistress then informed me that she regarded me as a homophobe, and was quite derisive in her tone.  Since I had rejected the opportunity to play with other male subs, she had decided to invite one of her gay male friends to introduce me to the joy of gay bondage sex, only he would be the dominant and I the submissive.

I immediately attempted to make a vocal protest, but the gag was quite effective in suppressing my efforts. To let me know that the rules still applied

,  I received three more high intensity cane strokes to my buttocks, as punishment for speaking without permission. She then tied a cloth blindfold around my head, and remarked that it would ease the anxiety of awaiting the dom’s arrival.

For the next fifteen minutes I was left in a state of high anxiety; during that time I could sense the Mistress moving about the dungeon, not knowing just what she was doing. At that point I heard the footsteps of someone descending the stairway, and knew that it was the dom.

My blindfold was removed and I found myself face to face with my gay tormentor. He was about 5’9, of rather stocky build, and attired in a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and running shoes. His face was covered by a black ski mask and would remain so for the entire session, I never did get a look at his face.

“So you are the guy that doesn’t like faggots” he sternly remarked, his voice certainly wasn’t effeminate and seemed to be a British accent. I didn’t respond to this comment, as I was still ball gagged. That quickly changed as he removed the ball gag and replaced it with a dental gag, ratcheting my mouth open in a very uncomfortable manner. From having viewed various bondage web sites, I knew just what purpose it was to serve.

The dom then removed my chastity device and proceeded to massage my cock by hand. After several minutes it still remained flaccid, and he told me that was an indication I was a homophobe. If it would have gotten erect, he would probably have asserted that it was evidence that I was inclined to gay sex. He reassured me that what was planned for me, would not require me to be erect, and that he intended to make it as humiliating as possible. That meant I would be sucking his cock, as well as ass fucked.

My handcuffs were again changed, this time they went behind my back and the overhead connector was detached. After generously providing pillows I was forced to kneel upon them, with the dom pulling up a chair and sitting directly in front of me.

I was instructed to use my tongue to pleasure his cock and that if my teeth made contact, I would receive a painful flogging and then forced to swallow his ejaculate. Humiliating and distasteful as it was, my face was pushed forward by Mistress, and directly into his fully erect cock.

For the next ten minutes I tried to please the dom and thought I was performing adequately, thus I was surprised when he informed me that my performance was inadequate, and if I moved, I would be immediately flogged, on that note that he began face fucking me.

The thought of a cock in my mouth was not nearly as distasteful, as the thought of him ejaculating in my mouth, but I was resigned to the fact that it would soon happen. He toyed with me, by forcing me to endure this for nearly ten minutes before ejaculating. I had no choice but to swallow the semen, even if I wanted to, the dental gag would have prevented it. Just to add a little more insult, the dom told me that expelling it would result in me being gang raped.  As foul tasting as it was, at least I knew that the oral phase was completed, I fully expected the anal phase to more painful.

Additional pillows were placed on the floor, so that as I lie on my stomach, my ass would be readily accessible. The blindfold was put on again, and the dental gag was replaced by the ball gag. Once again I was subjected to some verbal abuse, with the dom referring to me as a slut, and suggesting that he would have another surprise for me.

I was left lying on the floor, gagged, blindfolded and rear cuffed, for almost ten minutes. During that period religious music was playing, preventing me from hearing what my tormentors were saying. Believe me when I say that being  in a situation like this, not being able to see or hear what is going on is most distressing, and I have no doubt that the sadistic dominatrix was well aware of it.

Finally I could feel some type of liquid being applied to my anal area. The dom positioned himself to my rear and my anal virginity was shattered, as his cock burrowed its way in. I was told to stop tensing my muscles or that I would be taken to another location, and be fucked by multiple males.Despite my efforts, relaxation wasn’t about to happen.

After toying with me for nearly ten minutes, the dom ejaculated. At this point I was so stupefied that I wasn’t even focused on the pain of penetration or the tingling of the semen, but rather that my torture was complete. Wrong of me to think that! After the dom accused me of resisting penetration, my punishment was internal application of a menthol like cream ; this had a strong stinging effect that made the baby oil seem therapeutic. Its effect would persist for nearly an hour.

My blindfold was then removed and the dom requested  permission to transport me to his house, so that an orgy could occur. I would be knocked out with chloroform, then transported in the rear of his van. Mistress denied his request outright, stating that my contract was for not more than three hours of play.

I have no doubt this was a ploy, to make Mistress seem benevolent, in my mind both were equally sadistic, and more troubling was that she had deceived me. Mistress then removed my gag and made me crawl into the canine cage. Once inside she removed the handcuffs, this left only the collar padlocked around my neck. The dom then departed, I will never forget his voice, and if ever come across him, I will extract vengeance .

Strangely enough my feelings towards the Mistress are more charitable. Despite the fact that she double crossed me, I was very much impressed by her ability as a dominatrix, all the more so because she was sixty years old. The dom seemed to have a visceral contempt for heterosexuals, especially young and attractive ones like myself.

Mistress stated I would be released within the hour, if I showed no sign of agitation. She continued to taunt me, saying that maybe it would be a good idea to send me to the dom’s house, and contribute to my overall character development.

I was permitted to speak for the first time, but I wasn’t in the mood for small talk.  Mistress sitting on a chair next to the cage, explained her philosophy. She believes every male harbors a desire, at least subconsciously, to have sex with another male. Therefore she sees nothing wrong with a forced encounter. Likewise, with respect to lesbians, she often forces her female clients, to have sex with a male.

To illustrate her vanity, she suggested I return for a subsequent visit, that it would be free, and that she would provide a female sub. She regretted that due to my age I could not patronize her bar. I played along with her, but the thought that I would ever submit to another encounter with her, was simply ridiculous. I really believe that she was serious about the proposition.

As promised I was released within the hour. My ass was sore for several days because of the whippings. Fortunately I suffered no emotional trauma and my college grades have been average. Unfortunately I suffered a knee injury my freshman year, and this ended my dream of ever playing professional football.

As part of fraternity pledging, the pledges were subjected to some sexual harassment. I, along with seven other male pledges, were required to strip naked before being bound, then it was explained that each of us would receive a hand job from a female. One of the frat members would measure the size of each erection, and the one that was the least in size, would receive an unspecified number of strokes with a paddle.

We were ordered to lie on our backs, with our hands tied behind us and ankles together, with plastic cuffs. A blond wearing a short red dress went down the line, using a tape to measure both the circumference and the length of the cock, spending no more than three minutes masturbating any one pledge She then called out the numbers, allowing everyone in the room to hear them, while a senior frat member duly noted each measurement in a notebook.

One of the pledges remained completely flaccid, and needless to say he was the looser. Still tied, he was forced to bend over, while a senior administered ten strokes, and required the pledge to sound off “Thank you sir may I have another”, this ritual was probably inspired by the movie “Animal House”.

The other pledges, still tied, were ordered to hop about the room in gauntlet style, with each receiving three stokes. Then after it was all complete, the frat president announced that they had hired a transvestite to perform the masturbation, and the cutie blond pulled up his skirt, so that everyone knew it was a male. I do have to give him credit for his makeup and attire, he appeared female enough to me.

My heterosexual life continues to thrive, but periodically

I fantasize that I am a male dom, and force male submissives to perform oral sex with my cock in their mouth, coupled with a heavy dose of corporal punishment. I will never permit a male cock in my ass, or insert mine in someone else’s; likewise I will never take a male cock by myself.

Now in my sophomore year, this fantasy persists, and I suspect that one day it will materialize.

END OF STORY