The Teenage Dominatrix Ch. 02
The teenager lifted the flap and pulled out a letter, attached to which were three photographs. His heart sank as he looked at the pictures of Victoria with her fingers in his rectum and cum draining from his cock.
Stephen,
Would love to see you at 8pm - no later and no earlier - tonight. At my house. You will wear my dressing gown and nothing else. We have something to discuss.
Victoria.
Butterflies in his stomach did somersaults as his eyes focused on the photographs. His classmate had blindfolded him and hadn't realised that his ex-classmate had recorded their session. The thought made him feel queasy.
Victoria had a reputation; she was not known for her friendliness, and all of his friends had avoided her where they could. Even Hugo, who had been close to her for awhile, now refused to mention her name. Stephen didn't know what she would do with the photographs or recordings or what her plans were. He didn't trust her enough to believe this was a prank, and his imagination ran wild as he worried.
Neither he, nor his family, were flush with money. He lived in a terraced house that was worth half what Anne-Marie's abode would be worth. He earned £8 per hour for a job that he would have for three months. If Victoria was trying to extort money from him, she wouldn't be able to raid him for very much.
He thought about little else for the rest of the afternoon; his work suffered. The night before, he washed the pink dressing gown and hung the thick toweline garment to dry in the lounge. It smelt fresh and soft, and he changed into his swimming shorts and T-shirt, and stuffed the pink gown in his backpack.
Stephen ate half his dinner; fear and excitement crept up on him at every opportunity. Without a bike, and the paucity of public transport, he had to walk the two miles to the end of Victoria's street. He checked his watch; ten minutes until Victoria's deadline.
At the end of her road was a park. A few bushes and trees provided some cover from passing cars and pedestrians, although the warm early evening had enticed dog walkers onto the grassland. Stephen stepped behind the bushiest trees - a cherry laurel hedge that the council had allowed to become overgrown. He snagged his shorts on a bramble bush, and painfully caught his grazed thigh on a rough branch, but the overflowing fruiting hedge gave him cover.
He could see three walkers and one dog owner from his position, but he was at least twenty metres from them and the foliage helped disguise and mask his activities. He knelt on the ground and removed his shoes and his shirt. Stephen pulled the pink fluffy dressing gown from his backpack and slipped the fluffy, comfortable garment around his shoulders.
Tentatively, he stood up. The dog walker strode across the park towards his pet, advancing on Stephen's position in the secluded corner of the green. He pushed his shorts to his ankles, and stood out of them, feeling the cool draught of the fresh air around his nether regions. He tied tightly the gown around his waist.
He slipped his shoes back on and stuffed his clothes in his backpack. "Oi," a voice called as Stephen emerged from the bushes. "What you doing in there?" Stephen broke into a run, and the dog walker yelled again. "I'm calling the Police."
Stephen ignored him. His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted across the road and recognised Anne-Marie's car turn out of Forrest Avenue, moments before he tore up the shallow incline to Victoria's house.
The dressing gown was flimsy as he rushed. His cock bounced freely underneath the towel garment and he felt chilly as the air circulated. Stephen kicked off his shoes at the bottom of the driveway and stuffed them in his backpack.
One minute to eight. He waited for the grandfather clock to chime in the hallway and then rang the doorbell.
Victoria, dressed in a cherry pink and black basque, with matching briefs and stockings, opened the door. "Come in," she said with a wide grin.
"What's this game you're playing, Victoria?" Stephen asked the moment he stepped into her home. He brandished the photos, and she gave a chuckle as she surveyed the images.
"A prostate massage," she replied. "Or proof that you like a bit of a finger up the bum. All men do, but some are so homosexually repressed they can't take it. You, however, adored it. You're in touch with your ... sexuality. A bit. Now, go through."
"I want those photos."
"And you shall have them. Eventually. Go through to the lounge."
"And what is the meaning of telling me to dress in this outfit?"
Victoria jabbed her fingers into his ribs and pushed him towards the open door. "Take a seat," she demanded and followed her ex-classmate into the long living room. He took a brown leather armchair and tucked the dressing gown underneath his legs as he sat down. Victoria smirked as she sat opposite. "So many questions."
"Look, Victoria, this is all ..."
"Why did you follow my instruction to wear the dressing gown?" She asked, interrupting him. He spluttered and then she rubbed her chin. "Because it excited you. And after yesterday, you wanted to play a bit more. I am not sticking my finger up your butt hole today. Oh, don't look so disappointed! I am going to give you back those photographs. Taken from the cameras in the massage room."
"Good. Where are they?"
"In good time," Victoria soothed. "In so much of hurry." She stared at the fidgeting man and tucked her dark brown hair behind her ears. "So, if you want those photographs, which I think you do, then I have a challenge for you. Twelve tasks. I am going to push your boundaries a bit. And then I'm going to break them."
"What sort of tasks?"
"Oh, they'll be a little humiliating, very sexual and highly submissive. But then, as you found out yesterday, that's not really a problem, is it?" He grimaced as she spoke. "And this is the fourth time I have broken the guys in my college and all the little piggies have done what I told them to. Very few boys want the video of them squirting their little prick when a finger gets whizzed up their poop-chute sent to their friends and families. Or put on the 'net."
"Who else have you done this too?"
"My lips are sealed. But you know one of them. You do Electronics with him. Little shit asked me out on a date, thought he was getting lucky, but I gave him an attitude adjustment. A bit of public humiliation. Soon changed his opinion."
"Hugo?"
She ignored the question. "Hey, perhaps Ingrid would like to see what she could have won!"
"No!"
"Ah, you still like her? Do you fantasise about her, lots? She's very sweet. A bit too innocent, but I bet she screams in your dreams when she comes, right?"
"Stop it."
"You do, don't you?"
"Stop it!" Stephen shouted, and she cackled.
"We on? You know you wank your little willy about dominant women. Perhaps we could have this chat with your parents?"
"Yes, OK. OK, I'll do your twelve tasks. And then I want all the photos and the recording destroyed."
"What you do with them is your responsibility." She giggled and got up. "OK, leave the dressing gown there."
"But I'll be naked."
"Good," she replied icily. "That's what I was planning."
"But ..." Victoria sighed and Stephen glared at her. He made eye contact with the dominant teenager and unfastened the belt to slip the garment from his shoulders. She smiled as it hit the floor and she pointed at the door.
"Up the stairs," she called and picked up his backpack as he left the room. "Turn right," she shouted as he reached the top step. "And go to the very end room."
Stephen's heart pounded as he across the landing to a black internal door, slightly ajar. Victoria wasn't behind him, and he tentatively pushed it open. The huge master bedroom had been transformed, and he gasped as his eyes took in the space.
He felt a chill on his spine, and while he recognised little of the furniture or equipment, he knew enough to realise what Victoria and his aunt used the room for. Red lighting and long mirrors on the walls, red and black bondage furniture and seats, canes and whips in tall vases by the side, and a cross on the wall.
His mouth dropped, his eyes widened. His body shivered and tingled. Victoria put her arm around his waist and caused him to jump. "We are going to have a lot of fun in here."
"This is ... like Fifty Shades of Grey?"
Victoria snorted. "Fifty Shades of Abuse, more like. No, my aunt is a dominatrix. She has people come here to pay to be spanked. And whipped. And fucked. And just generally abused."
"Oh, like the MP?"
Victoria laughed. "I couldn't possibly say. But I turned eighteen ten months ago, and I have helped out Goddess Payne a bit."
"This must have cost ..."
"It's a small fortune. This is why you are so lucky as you are getting to experience it. Normally twelve sessions with the delectable Victoria Braithwaite would cost you more money than you've ever seen and all of your dignity and self-respect. So I'll just take what I can get." Stephen gulped, and she dropped his rucksack by her feet. "The bathroom is through there," she said, pointing to the room that was once an en-suite to the master bedroom. "Go for a piss, because when I get going I am not stopping."
Stephen, still slightly in shock, did as she instructed, and Victoria took him to the wall and fastened his hands and ankles to the Cross. His hands shook as she manoeuvred his body into the strong, fabric restraints.
"I don't do pain," Stephen muttered.
"Unlucky," Victoria whispered into his ear.
"I hate it when I stub my toe." The teenage dominatrix cackled and selected a ten-inch long, four-inch wide, red velvet lined, leather paddle. It was one of her favourite items in the room and she rubbed the soft texture in her palm. "And I really, really hated falling off my bike."
"What's the PIN number on your phone?" Victoria asked. Stephen didn't answer, and so the young domme stepped towards her restrained victim and used the momentum to bring her hand down, and the paddle across his buttocks.
The strike made a pleasing sound, and the shock of the impact more than the pain caused Stephen to squeal. "Ow," he cried. "That hurt."
"Good," Victoria purred and struck him again and again. Each time, a little harder. "What's your PIN?"
"No!" He spat, and she slapped his bare ass with the paddle again and again. He cried out as her fierce strikes rhythmically pounded against his milky white skin. She reached over to him to push his back further against the frame and launched a visceral battery of swats against his exposed flesh.
"Stop it!" He cried. "Stop it!"
"What's your PIN?"
"I... stop it!"
"What's your PIN?" Victoria yelled, and when he didn't answer, she pummelled the leather paddle into his reddened buttocks. He screamed, and she tossed it to one side. "Let's see if the crop loosens your tongue."
"No, I... I..."
"Ssssshhhh!" Victoria cried, and selected a cheap, bright red, riding crop from a tall vase on the floor. "Just relax your mind and your body." Stephen strained his head to watch her, but she was out of his view, and she used her wrist to flick the implement against his beaten flesh.
He shrieked, crying out shrilly as the weapon landed on his skin.
"Close your eyes. Relax." Stephen took shallow breaths as she adopted a smooth, rhythmic cadence of soft strokes against his skin. The young man gave gentle, slow moans as she effortlessly dominated him. His mind drifted as she controlled him with the easy, cushioned hits on his buttocks.
He had never felt like that before. He had never floated in such a way, and felt so relaxed as he was, stark naked and being beaten by the vicious sadist.
She asked him again. "What's your PIN on your phone?"
"Uh?" He answered, and she smashed the crop against his right buttocks. He cried in shock and pain, and she did it once more. Firm, unyielding strokes of the crop against her prey.
"Six. Seven. Nine. Two."
Victoria dropped the crop and retrieved his phone from his backpack. She added her phone number into his contacts and idly looked through his camera gallery. "Why so many cock pics?" She asked with a giggle. "I think I'll take some copies of these, to go with the photos from yesterday and today."
"Today?"
"Oh yes," she laughed as she dropped thirty obscene pictures from the bound man into a folder and shared them with herself. "Today's been on camera too." Stephen gulped as she whispered in his ear. "Oh, look at these bookmarks. Do your parents know what you do on your phone. This is downright obscene!"
"I am eighteen."
"Tut tut! Taking copies of this too."
"Please don't."
Victoria ignored him. "And today, taking my cane, has been task one of twelve. How does that make you feel? Excited?"
"Nervous," he admitted.
Victoria took the shoes, phone and keys from Stephen's backpack and tossed the bag into her bedroom, before returning to the play space. She unclipped his restraints and backed away as he rubbed his abused buttocks with a pained expression on his face. "I will see you tomorrow. I will come to your house at exactly 6pm, where you will have cooked a three-course meal. You will wear, just an apron and you will go home tonight in my dressing gown and your shoes."
"Oh, come on. That's through the town centre."
"It's getting dark. You'll be perfectly safe, although I suggest walking around the pubs. You don't want any drunks to come across you and get randy. Especially, a good-looking boy like you." He scowled at her and she picked up the crop to tap in her hands. "Unless you need more persuading."
"No, sorry."
"Good. Shut the door on the way out." She watched him leave the room, covering his cock as he painfully walked, and then spied him don the dressing gown and shoes and walk from her house, holding his phone and keys. The wind had gathered some ferocity during his hour-long rendezvous with the wild Victoria and swirled around his balls as he ran from the house and jogged home.
He had barely opened the front door when he received a WhatsApp message from Victoria.
Had fun tonight. See you tomorrow. Here's a clip of the video from earlier. Thought you might like this. Oh, I forgot to say, no wanking until I come round tomorrow.
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