Bound by Control 2: A worm turned

Michael stood in his back garden with Kay, the crisp morning air a welcome change from the confines of the house. Kay's brother had shared a valuable tip, teaching them how to disable the Wi-Fi and, consequently, the cameras. They had entered the house through the back door, a sense of anticipation and curiosity guiding their steps. Michael half-expected the house to be stripped of any incriminating evidence, but to his surprise, everything remained untouched. The cameras, pictures, portraits, and various BDSM equipment, including the clamps around the toilet and the chain hanging from the bathroom ceiling, were all still in place.

Kay, impressed and a touch excited, sat on the bed and watched Michael change clothes. Her eyes lingered on his lean, tight frame, appreciating the way the black rubber pants she had convinced him to wear clung to his backside and molded around his cock and balls. There was a hint of disappointment in her expression as he pulled on a pair of jeans, covering the alluring sight beneath.

As Michael and Kay were gathering the essentials for his short stay at her place, a sudden, light clunk echoed through the hallway, startling them both. Something had been pushed through the letterbox, landing with a soft thud on the floor. Michael glanced at his watch, noting the early hour—10:00 am. Mail typically didn't arrive until after 1:00 pm, and this unusual timing sent a chill down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a primal response to the unexpected intrusion.

"Kay, stay on the stairs," he instructed, his voice low and steady. He approached the door with caution, each step deliberate and measured. There, on the floor, lay a small brown package, unassuming yet ominous in its anonymity. He picked it up, his fingers tracing the rough texture of the paper. There was no address, only his name scrawled across the front, a stark and unnerving sight that left him with more questions than answers.

Kay, unable to resist her curiosity, had ventured down the stairs and was peeking around the corner, her eyes wide with anticipation. Michael lifted the box, showing it to her with a shrug, a silent question passing between them. He carefully pulled at the tape and removed the brown paper, revealing the contents within. As he opened the box, his face paled, and he nearly tossed it across the room in disgust.

Inside lay another cock cage, identical to the one he had been wearing, along with a thumb drive and a folded piece of paper. His hands trembled slightly as he unfolded the note, his eyes scanning the instructions with a growing sense of dread.

"Michael, here is a replacement for the item you damaged yesterday. Put this on and assume the 9:P.M position. If you do not comply, everything on the thumb drive will be released and posted on every Social Media and work site that you have access to. Also, the following people will be receiving copies..."

The list that followed was a chilling reminder of the power his unknown tormentors held over him, a roll call of his colleagues, friends, and family who would be irreparably damaged by the exposure of his secrets.

Michael was shaking as he showed Kay the items in the box. She eyed the cock cage, impressed by its design, which was unlike anything she had seen before or sold in her store, or even the one she made her brother wear. The cage was sleek and sophisticated

“Do you have a way we can look at this?” she asked, picking up the thumb drive. Michael nodded and led her to his Mac, where he plugged in the drive. The icon popped up on the desktop, and he clicked on it. A list of folders, each labeled with a date, appeared before them. Michael was surprised to see that the first file was dated before he had even started talking to Chrissie online, which added a layer of mystery and unease to the situation. He clicked on the folder, and a video file labeled “interview” caught his eye. With a sense of trepidation, he clicked on it, and Valerie, his ex-wife, appeared on the screen.

He couldn’t believe how callously she had offered him up for some kind of experiment, her words echoing in the room as they watched. The video revealed a side of Valerie he had never seen, one that was both calculating and cold. It was clear that she had been complicit in whatever scheme was unfolding, and the implications were chilling. Michael and Kay exchanged a glance.

“That’s my ex.” Explained Michael. 

They went through the files, every sordid one. From Chrissie first locking his cage on his cock while he was asleep, till the day before he escaped.  Kay looked on, she was horrified for Michael, but the deeper, darker, more perverted side of her was becoming so excited. To be able to control somebody so completely.  She would have grabbed Michael and fucked him there and then if he hadn’t been so distraught. 

They flicked through the still images, reached the end, and found an unnamed folder within a folder. They clicked it, and Kay stepped back. There was a picture of them entering the house from the back garden. 

Michael looked at her, trying to judge her reaction. She was red-faced, she took her phone out of her jacket pocket, and dialed.

“Hi, Aunt Sheila, how are you ?”

Kay went on to explain to her aunt a little about what had been going on, told her Michael’s full name and where he worked, information that he had supplied earlier. They arranged to meet in her Aunt’s Dartford home in a couple of hours. 

“Kay, with a familiar smile, led Michael up the paved driveway, the white walls and gated entries a comforting sight. "I've been here before, but it still feels special every time," she said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. Michael, taking in the symmetrical facade and large windows, couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and curiosity. "It's a bit different from  my place," he commented, his eyes scanning the modern architecture.

As they approached the central double door entrance, Kay pointed towards the landscaped garden. "Auntie Sheila spends a lot of time out there. She says it's her therapy," she explained, her voice soft with affection. Michael nodded, imagining the tranquility that must come with such a space.

The bright blue sky and scattered white clouds seemed to welcome them, promising a day of exploration and connection. As they stood at the door, ready to ring the bell, Michael felt a flutter of anticipation. 

As the door swung open, Michael found himself face-to-face with a towering figure who commanded attention. Uncle Roy, dressed in a tight white t-shirt and ultra-tight Lycra cycle shorts, stood before them, his physique imposing. The thick stainless-steel collar around his neck hinted at the household's dynamics.

Kay, undeterred by her uncle's imposing presence, leaped into his arms, wrapping her own around his powerful neck. "Hello, Uncle Roy," she greeted warmly, planting a kiss on his cheek. Roy's face lit up with a big, genuine smile, and he hugged her back with a tenderness that belied his size.

"Miss Sheila is looking forward to seeing you," Roy said, his voice a deep rumble that carried both respect and affection. Kay beamed, clearly thrilled at the prospect.

Turning to Michael, Kay introduced him with a gentle nudge. "This is Michael," she said. Roy extended a hand, his grip firm and assessing as he looked Michael directly in the eye. "Sir," he acknowledged, his gaze searching and evaluating.

The new world Michael had fallen into just a couple of months ago was becoming second nature to him; he felt as if he had stepped into an alternate universe where perverse was normal and normal was perverse.

Micheal followed Roy and Kay into this modern detached house that felt like a palace. As Michael stepped into the spacious sitting area, the contrast between this house and his small terraced home became starkly apparent. The room was expansive, with two huge sectional sofas set opposite each other, creating an inviting yet intimidating atmosphere. His eyes were drawn to the woman sitting at the end of one sofa, a glass of wine in her hand, exuding an air of elegance and authority. She reminded him of the old English actress Diana Dors, with her striking features and confident demeanor.

Kay, with her usual enthusiasm, ran over to the woman and enveloped her in a warm hug. "Auntie Sheila!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with affection. The woman, Sheila, returned the hug with equal warmth, her eyes softening as she greeted her niece. She then patted the seat beside her, inviting Kay to sit down.

Kay complied, and as she did, Sheila turned her attention to Michael. He extended his hand, feeling a mix of nervousness and curiosity. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Michael," Sheila said, her voice smooth and measured as she shook his hand. Michael couldn't help but feel that she was taking stock of him, much like Roy had done earlier. Her gaze was assessing, and he found himself wondering what she saw in him.

As he sat down, Michael felt scrutinized. The family dynamic was clear: Sheila was the matriarch, and her presence commanded respect and attention. He couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation, wondering what this visit would reveal about this intriguing household and the unique relationships within it.

After a few minutes of catching up, Sheila asked if they would like a drink. Both Kay and Michael requested coffee. Roy was promptly ordered to fetch it, and he nodded slightly before walking off to the kitchen. 

“Where’s Sally?” Kay inquired, her curiosity piqued. Sheila, with a knowing smile, replied, “She’s downstairs.

Kay raised an eyebrow, a hint of concern in her voice. “Really? Has she been naughty?”

“Not at all,” Sheila explained, her tone matter-of-fact. “It’s like I’ve always told you, you have to remind them who’s in charge now and then, otherwise, they think they are more than they are.” She smiled at Kay and continued, “Why don't you run along and visit with Sally for a while, while Uncle Roy and I have a chat with Michael?”

“Be nice, auntie, he’s my friend,” Kay said softly, turning to Michael and giving him a peck on the cheek. “It’ll be fine,” she whispered reassuringly.

Kay walked out of the room and down a hallway, opening the door to the basement. She skipped down the wooden stairs, her footsteps echoing in the confined space. Against one wall stood a six-foot-tall cast-iron cage. Inside, severely bound and recently shaved, was Sally, her eyes ringed with big black mascara, tears streaking her cheeks. A huge ball-gag was shoved tightly in her mouth, muffling any sounds she might make. Her arms were stretched to the top corners of the cage, and her legs to the bottom, creating a brutal display of restraint and control. A dildo, attached to a machine, was thrusting in and out of her vagina, while a similar device at the back of the cage penetrated her anus.

She had once been married to a detective who, along with a corrupt chief inspector, had attempted to dismantle this crime family. The detective is now missing, presumed to be living in Europe, while the chief inspector has been reduced to a submissive role, her fate sealed by a young man half her age. Sheila, taking pity on Sally, who had become lost and vulnerable in the aftermath, offered her a new path. Sally, in turn, became Sheila's willing submissive and sexual partner, finding a twisted sense of security and belonging within the confines of this unusual household.

Upstairs, Michael found himself in a position of discomfort. Sheila, with a commanding presence, invited him to sit next to her, her hand resting high on his thigh, her eyes locked onto his. The gesture's intimacy was unmistakable, and Michael felt nervous.

“Now, Michael,” she began, her voice smooth and measured, “Before we start, I’m going to be up front with you, because I want us all to be very clear about things, ok?”

“Of course,” Michael replied, his voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in his stomach.

“Kay is very dear to me, and it seems she has taken a liking to you. I want you to be honest with me, Michael. What are your intentions after all this is over?”

Michael took a deep breath, considering his words carefully. “What do you mean as far as Kay and me are concerned?” he asked, seeking clarity.

Sheila nodded, her gaze unwavering. “I don’t know, we only met last night, she is a force of nature, and she showed me more compassion in one hour than most people have in a lifetime.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “We don’t really know each other. She knows about the trouble I’m in, but other than that, she knows nothing about me, and I know nothing about her.”

He stopped talking, and Sheila remained silent, obviously expecting more. Michael took a deep breath, his words sincere and heartfelt. “All I can tell you is that I like her, I like her a lot, and I would like to get to know her better, but honestly, if you think that I would knowingly hurt her in any way, then you should just tell me to leave now.”

Sheila leaned in closer, her voice a low, authoritative whisper. “If we decide to help you, Michael, you will owe us, and we are unforgiving with our debtors. We have conducted thorough research on you. Why did you take your current position when you are greatly overqualified? Your business degrees qualify you for a much higher position.”

Michael shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of her scrutiny. “I’m happy working for a smaller company,” he explained. “It suited me, it suited my marriage, and the money was good.”

Sheila's eyes narrowed slightly, a calculating look crossing her face. “What would you say if I could offer you a similar position, but one where you ran things? Would that be something that would interest you?”

Michael considered her words carefully. “Well, to be honest,” he replied, his voice steady, “After this week, I'm probably going to be needing another job.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Sheila's face. “Then we have a deal,” she said, her tone final. “You will work for us for one year, running a new venture, and we will help you out with your problem.”