Of Human Bondage

For the rest of the afternoon, the girls and I worked on identifying other manipulation red flags and how to handle them. Some involved roleplay, but mostly we just talked. I’d prompt them with a scenario, whether completely made up or adapted from something I’d seen happen in real life, and the girls would tell me what they would do in that particular circumstance. Then I would explain the potential consequences of those choices and where they could lead, and then we’d explore those branching threads in greater detail. The lesson opened their eyes to the depths and ingenuity of male dominate behavior.

When they’d had their fill of psychosexual self-defense for the day, we moved on to a subject nearer and dearer to my heart. All of them had, at one point or another, expressed interest in getting fucked in the ass, so it seemed the right time to discuss the ins and outs, so to speak, of preparing for and enjoying anal sex. I removed a spare enema bulb from my overnight bag and showed them how to use it. I explained how to clean up, both before and after, how to avoid accidents and what to do when they inevitably occurred, how to keep toys from becoming permanent residents of their colon, and how to properly sanitize objects entering and exiting their asses.

Aspects of the tutorial elicited wrinkled noses and expressions of disgust from some of them, especially Ashley. I asked Kayla to prepare a list of anal videos to play in the background while we worked, and by the time we finished, the girls had largely conquered their initial reflexive aversions to see ass fucking as just another sexual expression, and all of them became adept at wiping down butt plugs and using the enema bulb. The butt plugs that Ashley and I had ordered for her wouldn’t arrive until the next day, but she soldiered through the traumatizing process of handling objects that had once lurked inside her mother’s rectum.

When we finished the lesson, I checked my phone. I had received an email from the clinic that my results had come back negative and I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god. I pocketed the phone and stood up to stretch.

“I hate to do this,” I said to them, “but I have other plans this evening, so we’re going to have to end it here for today.”

I met their dejected looks and protests with assurances that we’d pick up again tomorrow. Brittney then decided that she may as well spend the night at home and offered to drop off Kayla and Courtney on the way. As I packed up my things, I asked Ashley if they had any jumper cables in the house.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I can ask my mom.”

“Would you, please?” I asked. I didn’t want to talk to Erin if I could help it.

We all hugged and kissed and Ashley’s three friends left me and Ashley alone in the pool house.

“You wouldn’t want to, you know, have sex right now, would you?” Ashley asked, after they’d left.

I wanted to, badly, but I had to get home and I knew better than to think I could just fuck her once and leave. I’d made that mistake too many times already and it had cost me days. I had to stop thinking with my dick.

“I’d love to, Ashley. I really would. But I made a promise to a friend that I’d meet up with them and I don’t want to flake out. Could I have a raincheck for another time?”

She hid her disappointment well. “Yes, of course,” she said. “I just ... I haven’t been able to stop thinking about having sex with you in front of my dad this morning, and I guess it got me really horny.”

Just the thought of fucking her up against the wall with Clay a few feet away had an effect on my erectile disposition. I shifted my cock in my pants and laughed.

“Yeah, that was really hot. Look, I know you’re kind of freaked out by the toys and stuff, but I think you’d really enjoy fucking yourself with the dildo.” When she wrinkled her nose, I held up my hand. “I get it. Too gross. It’s just a suggestion.”

“I’ll order one for myself tonight and see if I can get it delivered next day,” she promised. Then she kissed me and skipped out the door.

I waited in the pool house while she went to inquire about the jumper cables until I heard a car pull away from the house. After a few more minutes, I checked my phone again and decided to bite the bullet and talk to Erin myself. As I closed the slider door behind me, I saw Erin approaching from the house.

“Oh, good,” she said. “I was just coming to get you.”

I walked toward her, a sour look on my face. “Uh huh.”

“Ashley said you needed to borrow some jumper cables?” she asked.

“As if you hadn’t already known that.”

She turned and waved for me to follow her. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but Clay has a set in the garage. Give me a hand and I’ll pull my car around to give you a jump.”

I shouldered my bag and followed her, wary and skeptical. When we arrived at the garage, she pulled down a ceiling ladder and climbed up onto the sheets of plywood spanning the open ceiling joists to root around in a large pile of automotive equipment and fiberglass body panels that looked to belong to a long-abandoned project car. She tugged and pulled on a thick, heavy set of professional-grade jumper cables and then kneeled at the edge of the plywood to hand them down to me.

I reached up for them and dust and debris rained down onto my face and into my eyes.

“Careful,” she said. “Rat droppings.”

I closed my eyes and turned my head, spitting rodent pellets from my mouth. “Hurry up,” I said impatiently.

The cables touched my hand and I groped for them. Then my wrists came together as a zip tie cinched tightly around them. In a panic, I tried to pull my arms down, but I was caught on something.

“What the fuck?” I shouted and shook my head violently to clear the debris from my face. I peeked up with one open eye and saw that my wrists were bound and hooked to a chain looped over one of the ceiling joists. “Erin! What the fuck?”

“Relax,” she said as she descended the ladder at a leisurely pace. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I flailed and yanked my arms down as hard as I could, but the zip tie looked like something the cops would use. Heavy duty with dual loops for both wrists. All I managed to do was cut into my skin.

“Erin! Let me fucking go! Now!” I shouted.

She kept her distance and walked around me in a large circle to stand where I could see her.

“Now, Erin!” I shouted again, but she didn’t move. “Ashley! Ashley, get in here!”

“She’s not here,” Erin said coolly. “I asked her to run to the store to pick up groceries. She won’t be back for quite a while.”

My mind raced, trying to think of a way to escape. I struggled against my restraints again, even though I’d already tried that, then spun around in a circle, searching for anything I could use to free myself. I suddenly realized that I stood directly in the middle of the empty bay where Ashley parked her Evoque. Erin had planned this all to a tee. I turned to face her and spoke quickly.

“Erin, listen to me. This is really fucked up, okay? I have someone expecting me and if I don’t show up, they’re going to come looking for me. Let me go and I’ll forget it ever happened. Okay? Erin! Come on, Erin! Let me down, now!”

She watched me. The way a spider watches a fly thrash about in its web. Expressionless and patient, waiting for the struggle to slow and then stop, until the spider casually moves in to consume its prey.

“I’ll let you down,” she said, and I felt an immediate sense of relief, followed by one of dread. She wouldn’t have gone to all this effort just to let me go so easily.

“If I do what?” I asked, and she cracked a smile.

“You’re getting smarter,” she said, her melodic voice so condescending I wanted to kick her in the teeth. “After I show you this, if you still want to go, I promise I’ll cut you down.”

She held up her phone, and even from six feet away, I knew what the video showed. The sound confirmed my intuition. Me brutalizing Erin’s asshole in her bathroom. I looked like an animal as I gripped her hair in both hands, craning her neck backwards until she faced the ceiling, and slamming my thick cock into her ass again and again with such brutality that I almost turned away.

“Why are you showing me this?” I asked, but she ignored the question and turned the phone around to queue up something else. When she showed it to me, the blood drained from my face.

The video showed a view from inside the pool house, somewhere up high, near the corner of the ceiling. In the center of the frame, I held Brittney’s long red hair and fucked her mercilessly. Her screams sounded ghastly pouring from the phone’s tiny speakers and the sight of blood looked reminiscent of something from a slasher film. Off to the side, Ashley held her hands over her mouth and cried while Kayla consoled her. It looked disturbing to me. To an outside observer, it would look like a horrifying assault.

“What the fuck, Erin? Why are you doing this? This isn’t right. You’re sick. You need help. You can’t do this! Let me go, Erin! Erin, let me go!” I shouted, resuming my struggle.

She turned off her phone and tucked it away. Then she picked up a pair of wire snips from the workbench and opened and closed them menacingly. I stopped struggling and froze, my eyes wide with fear.

“What are those for? What are you going to do?”

She moved to the ladder and began to ascend. “You asked me to let you go, so I’m letting you go.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and stared up as she reached down to cut the zip tie. When the hardened steel cutting edge touched the plastic, she hesitated and looked at me with a diabolical expression.

“Last chance,” she said. “Are you sure this is what you really want, after what you just saw?”

I almost screamed yes, but my voice caught in my throat. What would she do with those videos? Who would she show them to? I hadn’t done anything wrong, nothing illegal, but could I prove it? Courtney would confirm it had all been consensual. As would the other girls. But what about the video with Erin? Would she lie about it? One brutal sex video, maybe. But two? Would anyone believe four teenaged virgin girls hadn’t been coerced by a sex-raged lunatic? Groomed and brainwashed to say whatever he wanted?

I couldn’t risk that. The mere accusation of something criminal could ruin me, and without proper context, no one seeing it could be blamed for thinking the worst. I worked in a tight knit industry. Even if nothing came of it, I could be blacklisted for being too high risk. Female colleagues and clients would never feel comfortable around me again. I could become a pariah just like that.

I looked up at Erin, her smug, jowly face staring back at me with those beady pig eyes. She’d pushed me around the board with impunity and maneuvered me into her trap with hardly any effort, and now she had me. Check mate, motherfucker. She owned me. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

“Excellent! This is going to be fun,” she said, scrambling down the ladder in a rush. “Let’s make this quick, okay? I don’t want you to be late for your appointment.”

She moved quickly and efficiently, as if she’d choreographed every detail in advance, which I suspected she had. From beneath the workbench, she pulled out a small duffle bag and set it on top. Then she turned to face me, staying just out of reach.

“You’ll do what I say, when I say it, and you won’t make a fuss. Say, ‘yes, mommy.’”

When I refused to respond, she reached back for the snips. “Very well,” she said, sounding almost disappointed.

“Yes, fat cunt bitch mommy,” I said in a low voice.

She put the snips down. “I kind of liked that,” she said. “Fat cunt bitch mommy. Mm. You made mommy’s fat little pussy tingle when you said it.”

“You’re a disgusting hog,” I spat. “I fucking hate you. I hope you choke on my cock and die, you horrid slag!”

Erin grinned and shivered. “More.”

I clamped my mouth shut and clenched my jaw. When she saw I wouldn’t indulge her any longer, she smirked.

“Damn. I think you could have made me cum just from talking to me like that.”

“Fuck you!” I shouted and she shivered again.

“I’m going to take your clothes off now,” she said. “If you struggle or, god forbid, do something stupid like kick me, I’ll cut you loose immediately and you can deal with the consequences. Understand?”

I glared at her but said nothing. When she reached for the snips, I said, “I understand.”

“‘Yes, mommy,’ please.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and said, “Yes, hog-faced mommy.”

She giggled and stepped forward tentatively. When I didn’t lunge, she bent down to untie my shoes. It took everything I had to not knee her in the face, and she looked up several times as if sensing my thoughts. With my feet bare, she stood to undo the fly of my pants. She stood so close, I smelled the conditioner in her hair. With a swift motion, she depantsed me and folded them neatly, setting them off to the side.

From the duffel, she produced a pair of sewing sheers and snipped the air. “Sorry,” she said with a sad face. “No choice. I’ll buy you a new one.”

In seconds, she’d cut my shirt from my torso and put the shears, along with the shredded remains, back into the bag. I hanged naked in front of her.

She returned to me and did a slow lap to survey her captured prize. When her hand touched my skin, I flinched and tried to pull away.

“Ah-ah,” she said softly. “No struggling, remember?”

Her fingers glided over my body as she circled me, moving lower with every lap, until she brushed over my bare ass and then my cock. Thankfully, I hanged flaccid, but I knew that wouldn’t last. She stopped in front of me and stroked me to full hardness, her eyes never leaving mine.