The Houseguest
Story Codes: MF, Consensual,  Exhibitionism,  Mature, Incest, Fem Dom - Male Sub



The Houseguest
by Louis Friend



I was going through a rather awful divorce and had to move in with my sister and her family. Coming
from the big city to this suburban shit hole was quite a change for me but the quiet did me good. It
gave me some distance from the turmoil of my former home and soon-to-be-former husband.

I spent a few hours every day pounding the pavement in search of new employment; hoping to find a
job that wouldn't insult me in terms of pay or duties. Plying my masters of psychology was a bit easier
in the city where therapists grew on trees.

I also "paid my rent" by helping my sister keep her house clean. I don't want to say that she lived in a
pig sty but it was a far cry from my austere apartment.

Things really got interesting for me approximately six weeks after I moved in. I was running a vacuum
through my nephew's room when I made a fascinating discovery--I discovered his porn stash.

Every young man keeps a supply of pornographic material on hand and Michael was no exception.
However, what he kept was truly exceptional. I expected Playboy, Penthouse, or even a Hustler. What I
found was Nugget, DominaExpress, and Prometheus. My nephew was a fetishist! And, judging from
the extensive markings in DominaExpress, he was actively seeking a partner to explore his desires.

I couldn't resist. I started going through this magazine; seeing which ads he had circled, which words
he underlined, which ads he had replied to and what responses he got (he kept the letters with their
respective ads--he was pretty darned efficient for an eighteen year-old). The words flooded over me,
awakening feelings that I had long since thought dead--desires I had allowed to go dormant while
married to my vanilla husband. Though I felt so right I also knew what I was thinking was wrong. I
stuffed the magazine back in its proper place and tried to go on with housework like Molly Fucking
Maid to no avail. It was less than five minutes later that I was in my bedroom, door locked, with my
vibrator imagining some pretty outrageous things as I came hard.

That night at dinner it was difficult to wipe the smile off my face as I sat next to my nephew, knowing
secrets about him that he'd probably rather die than admit out loud. I had been in the position he was
twenty years before and knew the confusion of bearing such "unusual" desires. I nearly choked on my
meal when the thought popped into my head, "I wonder if he's wearing panties tonight."

An idea came to me that night that I was determined to carry out. If anyone was going to initiate this
poor boy to the ins and outs of BDSM then it was going to be me. Damn the consequences and the
implications. That night I sat down with pen and paper and started crafting the perfect lure.

I thought I was going to go mad as I watched the progress from afar. I saw the new issue of
DominaExpress appear in his stash. Saw the markings on my ad and couldn't wait for my mail
forwarding service to deliver a letter from my nephew. When it arrived I was truly impressed by his
candor, his penmanship, and his use of language. Having written a number of these "cover letters," he
seemed to be reluctant to pour out too much of his heart as most of the responses he had gotten were
simple form letters asking for money.

I  wrote back, making sure to write my response and not type it. I wanted to show him that I would give
him the time of day. This already would set me apart from most of the responses. And, knowing more
of his hot buttons than he admitted to me gave me some perfect fodder to guarantee our continued
correspondence.

How strange it was to see my own letter show up in his stash a few days later. He had gone through it
and underlined certain key phrases that I knew would set his loins on fire. They worked. From the
tissue in his wastebasket I knew that my next missive would contain a schedule for his masturbation.
Perhaps I'd see how well he stuck to it by walking in on him during a scheduled self-abuse session. I
grinned slyly to myself and knew I'd have to play it smart and make me the only Domme he wrote,
though it was too early to demand exclusivity. I'd have to prove that I was going to be worth pursuing.

At dinner I could barely contain myself. Soon I knew for sure if he was wearing panties to the table. I
had ordered him to and found them tucked away in his underwear drawer when he was out. I watched
as my letters stacked up. When the next DominaExpress came out the new issue didn't find its way into
his stash. I knew he was mine.

This possession came none too soon as I had managed to find a well-paying job and knew it was time
to move out of my sister's place. This took away my conduit to checking on Michael but I knew he
wouldn't stray from his newfound Mistress, Lady Jessica. My new employment also helped as I hired a
photographer to build Lady Jessica a portfolio with which I could tease my hapless submissive.
Keeping my face hidden, I would include a new picture every second or third letter. He was always
begging for more.

I had Michael in panties seven days a week. I had him admitting fantasies to me that undoubtedly
shocked him. I pulled information out of him that he hadn't admitted to anyone, including himself. I
pushed and pushed until I knew that a meeting was required to go any further.

I borrowed a friend's van and picked Michael up in a rather remote parking lot. He was instructed to
get into the back of the van, lay down on the floor and put on a blindfold. I knew he had to be
incredibly nervous but he did very well. He even fared well as I led him up to my apartment, blindfold
still on. Thank goodness for early evenings in Autumn, otherwise leading around a blindfolded
teenager might arouse suspicion in my new neighbors.

I wanted to make him as vulnerable as possible. I had him strip down to his panties and left him in my
"dungeon room" while I went to change and don a Harlequin mask.

I had worked on my voice for months previous, working up a husky tone that I knew would appeal to
Michael's latent bisexuality. I didn't want him recognizing me... at least not yet.

I put him at ease, removing his blindfold, talking to him gently, barely above a whisper. He knelt on a
rug and I could see him shiver--not from cold but from anticipation.

"I know why you're here. You're here to serve. You're here because every waking moment for as long
as you can remember you've felt like a nail, waiting to be hammered. You're part of an incomplete
equation... I'm the other part of that equation. I am here to complete you. I am here to help you fulfill
your purpose. I will control your body and, eventually, your mind. You long for this."

He nodded. Rather than tolerate bad behavior, I hit him on the flank with my crop.

"You don't have a gag in your mouth. You may speak... with permission.

"Yes, Lady Jessica.

"Much better." I had him lean down and kiss my feet. I swear I almost orgasmed right then. It had been
ages since I had had a man at my feet, his soft lips and snakey tongue dancing between my toes. It
was heavenly. I sat down on an ottoman and allowed him to worship my feet completely. I knew that
this was the first time he had ever had his mouth on a woman's feet and he performed wonderfully. He
truly was a natural. As he sucked on my big toe I thought I'd give him a thrill and said, "That's right.
Suck it like a cock."

His cock jumped in his panties.

I allowed him to pleasure my feet for a while longer--perhaps longer than I should have but it was so
pleasant--before having him stand before me for inspection. "You look so pretty in your panties, dear.
I'm going to have to have you buy a matching bra and high heels." Again, his cock jumped. I had him
remove his panties to show me his engorged cock.

I used the end of my riding crop to manipulate it. lifting it, smacking it, running along his balls. He
moaned slightly. I began rubbing the soft leather end along the underside of his cock. He swayed a bit
on his feet.

"I know all of your secrets," I told him. "Even those things you wouldn't admit to me in your letters. I'll
introduce you to your own desires. I bet you never thought you'd be dreaming about sucking a
woman's foot but you'll be dreaming of mine tonight. You'll also be dreaming of my ass."

I stood up and turned around. I kept my skirt down, despite wanting to left it up and feel his hot breath
of my rosebud. "Kiss it, boy. Kiss your Lady's ass."

He got down on his knees again and kisses me on both cheeks; one and then the other. Had my skirt
been up I would have felt his hot lips on my flesh. I knew that he was beyond turned-on. Despite
wanting to see him cum all over my feet and feel him licking it up I thought it'd be better to wait on that
for now.

I wanted to see his tolerance for pain. I led him to a table where I tied him down, face down, and went
through a wide array of implements to redden his behind. If only his mother could see him now, I
thought, as I made him whine out. Still, he wouldn't use his safe word and that made me so proud.

I let him cool down while I went to get my digital camera to take some snapshots of my handiwork. It
had been at least a decade since I had beat a submissive and found it to be just like riding a bicycle.

Knowing that this was his first time out and that I'd have to drive him back to our "neutral ground" and
that this was a school night, I decided that he'd had enough. I hoped, in future, that I could provide my
sister and brother-in-law with excuses for Michael's evening absences but I wasn't ready to break it to
the boy that his Aunt was now his owner.

I had him roll over on the table and told him to jerk his cock for me. Oh, how delicious it is to see
someone who's only ever masturbated in private do it in front of another person. He kept his eyes
locked on my masked face as he reached down and began stroking himself. His eyes became
heavy-lidded but he refused to close them, as if he was afraid that I'd disappear. No way in hell. I was
having too much fun watching my nephew abuse himself before me. I had only ever listened to him do
it before. That helped give me cues when he was getting ready to cum. I reached out and pinched his
closest nipple. This set him off. He exploded, four weeks of pent-up sexual frustration (per my orders)
coming out in a torrent of milky jism. I scooped up a handful and fed it to him. "Get used to it," I thought.

He licked my fingers clean, like a good boy, and I gave him a wet rag to clean himself up with. I gave
him ten minutes to get dressed and put his blindfold back on. Before we left I had him slide down his
pants and panties to place a greased plug up his ass. It was small, about the size of my index finger,
and I told him that he was taking his first step into a much larger world.

When Michael got home he wrote me a long letter describing all of his feelings and sensations that he
experienced during our first time together. I literally laughed out loud when he wrote, "I feel like you've
known me all my life."

I wonder how he'll handle it when he finds out who I am but don't really care. By then I'll have quite a
photo album that I can use to blackmail him, if need be.



Copyright© 2009 Louis Friend