Bound by Control 2: A worm turned

Roy returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray with two coffees. He placed the tray on an end table with a sense of purpose. His movements were deliberate, each action an indication of his role within the household.

“Sugar or cream, sir?” Roy asked Michael, his voice a low rumble.

“No, just black, thank you,” Michael replied, his nerves slightly calmed by the familiar ritual of accepting a beverage.

Roy handed Michael the coffee, and Michael thanked him, feeling a little unease. Roy then took up a position against the wall just to the right of Sheila, standing with his head slightly bowed, his hands behind his back, and his legs slightly apart. Michael noticed that Roy wasn’t leaning against the wall but standing in front of it, a posture that spoke volumes about the room's dynamics.

“I believe you have a thumb drive to show us, Michael,” Sheila said, her voice cutting through the silence.

“Er, yes, here you are,” Michael stammered, slipping his hand into his jacket pocket and handing the thumb drive to Sheila.

Sheila held it up in her hand, her eyes never leaving Michael’s face. “Show this on the big screen,” she commanded.

Roy moved from the wall and took the thumb drive, acknowledging Sheila with a simple, “Yes, Miss,” before walking off out of sight.

Seconds later, a large portrait of a hunting scene on the wall opposite them lowered to reveal a large screen. A desktop image came to life, displaying all the folders that were too familiar to Michael. The room fell silent as the weight of the moment settled in, and Michael braced himself for what he knew was about to come.

The clips were shown one by one. Michael noticed that Sheila had moved closer, and her hand was higher on his thigh; her breathing had become slightly heavier.   He jumped a little as her hand moved over his crutch. He started to harden in his trousers, and she squeezed to meet it. 

He was concerned now, the clips of his torture and torment were exciting Kay’s aunt. He wondered whether he had jumped out of the pot right into the fire. 

The clips ended, and the photos rolled by one by one, each an image of the torment Michael had endured. Sheila took a deep breath, her hand still firmly on his crutch, the other resting on his knee. Her eyes met his, and her voice was a low, sultry purr.

“Michael, dear, we have a problem,” she said, her gaze unwavering. “You see, I'm really quite turned on now, and I couldn’t possibly do anything to help you until this little itch is scratched. You do understand, don’t you?”

Michael was taken aback, confusion clouding his thoughts. What was she saying? What about Kay? “I think so, but what about Kay?” he asked, his voice shaky.

Sheila's smile was both inviting and commanding. “Oh, that’s sweet. Do you want her to join us? That’s a wonderful idea,” she said, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and authority. She turned to Roy, who had been standing silently by the wall. “Go and fetch Kay, tell her to bring a nice leash, you can stay down there and take care of Sally.”

“Yes, Miss,” Roy replied, his voice a deep rumble. As he passed Michael, he cast a glaring look, a silent warning.

Sheila turned back to Michael, her expression expectant. “Please take your clothes off,” she said, her tone as casual as if she were asking him to pass the toast.

Michael hesitated, his mind racing. “Wait a minute, Sheila, I'm not sure,” he started, his voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and uncertainty.

“You're not sure of what, Michael?” Sheila interrupted, her voice sharp. “You want my help, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but I thought working for you was the deal,” Michael replied shakily, his hands fidgeting with his jacket.

“It is, Michael,” Sheila said, her voice firm. “But consider this the handshake. Now take your clothes off, I really do not like to repeat myself.”

Michael stood up, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he could just run out of the door, but what was there for him if he did? At least this way, he might have a chance of getting his life back. With a deep breath, he began to undress.

Michael stood shirtless in his jeans, his chest bare and his jeans unbuttoned, as Kay returned from the basement. In her hands, she carried a bundle of leather items, the sight of which dismayed Michael. Kay looked at her aunt, her expression a mix of confusion and concern, her arms wide as if to ask, "What the fuck?"

Kay dropped the contents of her hands onto the sofa and took hold of Michael’s hands, her touch grounding and reassuring. "Remember what I said about the difference between consensual and what they made you do?" she asked, her voice soft yet firm. Michael nodded, his expression a mix of relief and confusion. Kay noticed he looked a little shell-shocked, and she kissed him gently on the lips, holding his hands tightly in hers. "We can go and work it out on our own if you’d like, Sheila won’t stop us," she assured him, looking at her aunt for confirmation.

Sheila, with a knowing smile, replied, "No, of course not, but if he leaves, I will withdraw my help, and he’ll be on his own. If you go with him, then he will be responsible for you too, and if you get hurt, well, I’m sure Michael understands." Her words hung in the air.

At this point, Michael could see no other option than to accept Sheila’s help and therefore her instructions. He let go of Kay’s hands and undid his belt, his movements slow and deliberate. Kay moved his hands apart, knelt down in front of him, and undid his jeans, sliding them down with a sense of purpose. Michael kicked his shoes off and stepped out of them, his feet bare on the cool floor.

Kay's hand went to the bulge in the rubber pants he was wearing, squeezing gently before moving her head forward and taking the bulge in her mouth. She sucked hard, the smell of the sweaty rubber and her instant turn-on evident in her actions. Her hands wrapped around his backside, pulling him tight against her face.

Sheila looked on in amusement, her eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and curiosity. She knew about her niece’s rubber fetish, but it was always nice to watch her enjoy herself. The room was filled with a charged silence, broken only by the soft sounds of Kay’s ministrations.

Michael put his hands on Kay's head, caressing her softly, stroking her hair as she licked and sucked. Her hands pulled at the top of the pants, starting to pull them down. Michael enjoyed the sensation of the cold air caressing his skin as she revealed more of him. His cock popped out, hard and wet with sweat and pre-cum. Kay took it in her mouth, slowly at first, then quicker, her hand finding his balls and squeezing them gently.

Sheila watched, her expression a mix of approval and something deeper. In a rare sentimental moment, she interrupted them. "Ok, Ok, That’s enough, Michael, put your clothes back on, and let’s talk business," she said, her voice cutting through the intimate atmosphere.

Kay pulled her head off his cock, slowly creating a loud plop as it popped out of her mouth. Michael was both disappointed and thankful, his body still throbbing with desire but his mind already shifting back to the reality of his situation.

An hour later, an initial plan had been laid out, and the target was set: Olivia and her husband. The goal was to squeeze any useful information out of them, a task that Michael knew would require both skill and ruthlessness. He and Kay had arranged to meet Roy and a couple of their men at a house along the Esplanade in Rochester, a place that Michael knew had access to the resources they needed.

Michael had taken a moment to check his social media pages, scanning for any signs of trouble. Nothing out of the ordinary caught his eye, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the threat was more than just an idle warning. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in his mind as he and Kay drove back to the shop in Gillingham.

Throughout the thirty-minute drive, Kay’s hand rested high on his thigh. Occasionally, she would flick a finger across his cock, her touch both teasing and possessive, ensuring that he remained hard and focused on the task at hand. The car filled with a charged silence, broken only by the occasional soft hum of the engine and the distant murmur of the streets outside.

They entered the shop from the back, private entrance. Kay had phoned her brother to let him know they were on their way back. 

The meet-up time was 5 PM. Michael looked at his watch; it was 2 PM, and they were back sitting in the kitchen in the flat above the shop. Kay’s brother had just made them coffee as ordered by Kay. Michael took his and nodded thanks to the collared young man. Kay took hers and told him to get back down to the shop.

“What’s his name?” Michael asked

 “Who’s ?” Asked Kay

“Your brothers, of course, “ explained Michael

“Eamon” 

“So what’s your story, the two of you?” 

Kay told Michael that some years ago, when they were both living at home. He was 16, she was 17. She found  Eamon's stash of porno mags; she was snooping around his room one day. The magazines were hidden beneath a loose floorboard, a secret he thought was safe. But Kay, with her sharp eyes, uncovered them. Most of the magazines were fetish-oriented, filled with images that were both shocking and intriguing to her young mind.

With this knowledge, Kay saw an opportunity. She threatened to tell their mother unless Eamon did as she said. At first, it was small tasks—doing her chores, helping with her homework. Eamon, fearful of their mother's reaction and the potential embarrassment, complied without much fuss. But as Kay tasted power, her demands grew bolder.

She began to explore the boundaries of their new dynamic, pushing Eamon into increasingly intimate, humiliating tasks. She tied him up, making him kiss her pussy, an act that was both degrading and arousing for him. The power imbalance grew, and Eamon found himself deeply entangled in Kay's web of control.

This experience taught Kay valuable lessons about manipulation and power. When the opportunity arose to buy the shop with Aunt Sheila's help, Kay saw it as a chance to solidify her independence. Eamon, now deeply dependent on her for both emotional and physical satisfaction, begged her to move in with her. He had become so entwined in her life that the thought of losing her presence was unbearable.

As Kay's hand rested high on Michael's thigh while she told the story, he realized this was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it. Her past experiences had shaped her into a force to be reckoned with, and Michael found himself both drawn to and slightly intimidated by her strength.

“So you’ve been into this kinky shit all your life?” Michael asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

“I guess so,” Kay replied, her tone casual. “I spent a lot of time with my aunt when I left school, and she showed me a lot of stuff.”

Michael nodded, processing this new information. “So, Roy, what’s that about?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“That’s my uncle, Sheila’s husband. That’s a new development, maybe about six months. He was always henpecked, but he loves her so much that he didn’t care. Sheila invited Eamon and me over for a party once my uncle Lance got out of jail. Uncle Roy was serving; he was wearing a collar and tight shorts and nothing else, and that was it, no explanations. We just all accepted it,” Kay explained, her voice matter-of-fact.

She put her hand on his thigh, squeezing gently, her touch both comforting and commanding. “So were you turned on by Auntie Sheila, were you going to kneel for her?” Her voice had an edge to it, a challenge that hung in the air.

Michael's face went red, a flush spreading across his cheeks. “I didn’t see that I had a choice,” he replied, his voice shaky.

Kay's hand played over his hardening crutch, her touch teasing and insistent. “Yes, but did you like it? That was my question, Michael,” she pressed, her voice firm.

“Yes, I guess I did,” Michael admitted, his breath catching in his throat.

Kay held her hand out, her gesture that seemed both an invitation and a command. “Come with me,” she said.

Michael stood, following her lead. He found himself complying without hesitation. Things have changed within him; something has awakened, and he wants to explore more of it.