Bound by Control 2: A worm turned

Kay led him to her room, and she sat on the bed, crossing one leg over the other.

“Strip,” She told him

“What, “ he asked, puzzled,

“Take you fucking clothes off?” She said, a stern edge in her voice. 

“Listen, Kay, I’m not sure this is such a good idea. Ever since I walked into your shop, we’ve been, well, we’ve been fucking, and it’s been all about this?” He said his hands were going around the room, indicating the rubber and d/s equipment. 

“Ok, Michael,” she said, “I’ll be straight with you, I am going to help you, regardless, because I like you. I would like to get to know you after all this is finished with, but right now, I”m as horny as fuck, and I can see by your jeans you are too, so let’s stop fucking about, all this shit turns you on, and you know it. “

Michael realized she was right; his mind had been forced open, whether he liked it or not, and he felt there was no going back to his vanilla life. 

He took off his shirt, and she smiled at him and sat back down. He stripped down to his rubber pants, and she smiled as his erection was wonderfully outlined by the black rubber.  He felt the sweat cool as he peeled the rubber off. His cock was twitching freely.  Kay took it in her hand and looked him in the eye as she stroked it.

“Kneel down on all fours,” she ordered. He did as he was told. Kay removed her baggy dress and leaned back on the bed, her legs spread wide, her feet resting comfortably in her Doc Marten boots on Michael's back. Her hands slid beneath the waistband of her panties, her fingers deftly navigating the sensitive folds of her sex. She began to stroke herself, her breath growing ragged and uneven as she lost herself in the sensation.

"Michael," she murmured, her voice thick with desire, "these clips of you being used... they turned me on so much. The way you're controlled, the way you're at their mercy... it's  fucking horny .” 

Her fingers moved faster, her hips lifting to meet her touch. She continued, her voice a mix of command and seduction, "I'm going to do some of the same things to you. I'm going to make you beg, make you submit. You want it, Michael. You just have to admit it to yourself.

Her words were punctuated by soft moans, her body arching as she chased her release. Her boots pressed harder into his back. She rode the waves of pleasure, her eyes rolling into the back of her head,

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, uuurrrgh, “ she yelled as her fingers brought her to release. She lay there panting. Ignoring Michael for a moment, her legs had slipped, the heels of the Doc Martens scratching his back as she stretched her legs out.

 Kay, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks of her pleasure, slid from the bed. She ordered Michael to kneel up, her voice a gentle command. She tied his hands behind his back, the restraint gentle yet firm. She was going to lead him gently down this path.

Leaning in, she kissed him deeply, her lips soft and demanding, coaxing a response from him. Her hands roamed his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, her touch both soothing and arousing. She guided his head to her breasts, urging him to kiss and suck her nipples, which were hard and begging for attention. Michael complied, his mouth and tongue exploring her ample flesh, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he reveled in the sensation of her soft skin against his lips.

Kay's moans filled the room, her body arching as he lavished attention on her breasts. She then guided his head lower, her hands pressing against his shoulders, urging him to lick and kiss her cunt. Michael's tongue delved into her folds, his movements slow and deliberate, tasting her wetness, exploring her depths. He sucked on her clit, his tongue flicking and swirling, driving her closer to the edge.

Kay's breath grew faster, her body trembling with anticipation. She rode his face, her hips moving in sync with his tongue, chasing her release. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, until finally, with a loud, guttural cry, she came, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. She collapsed back, her body still trembling, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she looked down at Michael, her eyes filled with affection.

Once Kay had come down from her climax, she ordered Michael to lie on the bed. She untied his hands, only to replace the rope with a belt around his waist, the rings attached to it offering new possibilities for control. She tied his hands to these rings, ensuring he was secure yet comfortable, and then bound his ankles together, limiting his mobility and heightening his sense of vulnerability.

Leaning over him, she kissed him all over, her lips and tongue exploring every inch of his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Her hands roamed his body, squeezing and teasing, her touch both soothing and arousing. She positioned herself so that his cock was sandwiched between her breasts, the soft, warm flesh enveloping him as she began to move, using her body to masturbate him. Her movements were slow and deliberate, her eyes locked onto his, gauging his reactions, ensuring his pleasure was building.

She then took his cock into her mouth, her lips wrapping around him, her tongue swirling and flicking, driving him wild with desire. She sucked and licked, her mouth and tongue working in unison to bring him to the brink. She then straddled him, her body poised above his, and slowly lowered herself onto him, her wetness enveloping him completely. She rode him with a confident, controlled rhythm, her hips undulating, her nails digging into his chest, leaving deep red marks, her body moving in a dance of pleasure and power. She came again, her inner muscles clenching around him, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm.

As she felt him nearing his own release, she slid off him so that she was kneeling with her legs on either side of his,  her hand wrapped around his cock, her movements quick and firm, ensuring his pleasure was heightened. Just as she sensed he was about to come, she let go, her eyes gleaming with a wicked delight. Michael's body arched off the bed, his cock erupting in a ruined orgasm, his seed spilling onto his stomach and chest. He bucked and writhed, seeking any friction. Another spurt, then a dribble, leaving him trembling and unsatisfied, his body yearning for more.

She smiled down at him, enjoying the frustration in his eyes. “That’s for questioning me’ She leaned down and kissed him, his wet erection sliding up her stomach as she bent forward. 

She climbed off Michael with a satisfied smirk, her body still glowing with the aftershocks of her own pleasure. She sauntered to the bathroom, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. Michael lay on the bed, his body still trembling from a ruined orgasm, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Moments later, Kay returned, a bowl of warm water and soap in hand. She knelt beside him, her touch gentle yet firm as she began to wash him, her hands moving with tenderness. She cleaned him thoroughly, her fingers tracing the contours of his body, ensuring no trace of their passion was left behind. As she reached his cock, she flicked it playfully, a teasing gesture that sent a jolt of sensation through him. Michael, desperate for release, tried to guide her hand, urging her to bring him to completion with the face cloth, but she merely smiled, her eyes dancing with mischief, and continued her task.

Once she was satisfied that he was clean, she dried him with a soft towel, her movements slow and deliberate, ensuring every inch of his skin was cared for. She then untied his wrists and ankles. He sat up, stretching his limbs.

"Get dressed," she instructed, her voice soft yet authoritative. "This time, go commando.”

They both dressed, Kay opting for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt featuring the iconic Sex Pistols "Never Mind The Bollocks" print. Michael couldn't help but smile; the outfit accentuated her butch appearance, adding an extra layer of allure to her already commanding presence. To him, Kay was a paradox—a butch lesbian on the outside, yet one of the most sensual people he had ever encountered, her inner passion and tenderness a stark contrast to her rugged exterior.

"You know you're going to get payback for that," Michael said, referring to the ruined orgasm, his voice a mix of playfulness and promise.

"Promises, promises," Kay replied with a smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of challenge.

They left the shop at 4:30, giving themselves ample time to meet up with Roy and discuss their plan. The Esplanade was unusually quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling traffic of Michael's memories when he used to sell the Evening Standard from a stand outside the C.A.V factory. The industrial landscape had long since given way to modern flats and townhouses, an indication of the passage of time and the area's evolution.

At 4:45, they pulled into the car park of The Rochester Cruising Club. A few minutes later, a sleek black Range Rover pulled up, and Roy stepped out, accompanied by another man. As they exited the vehicle, Kay's face lit up with recognition. She rushed over and hugged the man with Roy, who turned out to be Roy's brother, Lance. Michael watched the interaction, a thought crossing his mind: "Jesus, he thought, these two must have eaten all their Weetabix when they were younger," a playful observation on their impressive size.

Another guy emerged from the back of the car, a younger man who seemed dwarfed by the two giants. Kay's expression changed as she looked at him, and she turned to Roy, who raised his hands in resignation.

“Sheila said we need him to do his tech stuff,” Roy explained to Kay.

Kay strode over to the younger guy and, without hesitation, kneed him in the groin. Roy and Lance burst into laughter, while Michael watched, bemused. It was then that he noticed Roy wasn't wearing a collar. In fact, if Michael hadn't witnessed Roy earlier, at Sheila's house, he never would have believed it was he same man.

Kay returned to Michael, leaving the guy on his knees, clutching his groin.

“Friend of yours?” Michael asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

“That’s Marcus, his sister is a friend of mine, and we used to have a thing together. He’s a wanker.” She replied, her voice dripping with contempt. Michael filed away a mental note to never cross Kay.

They made their plans and headed for Olivia’s house. Michael climbed the short flight of steps to the front door and nervously rang the bell. He heard footsteps, the click of heels on a wooden floor. He nodded to the others, signaling that the door was about to be opened. Through the frosted glass, he saw her silhouette, even her outline exuding style. Olivia opened the door, her expression shifting from surprise to a warm smile upon seeing Michael.

“Michael, we’ve all been so worried about you. Where have you been?” She embraced him, her arms wide, and Michael stepped into the hug, inhaling her intoxicating scent. He held her tight, his heart racing.

“I’ve brought some friends,” he whispered in her ear, gently pushing her back toward the house. She lost her footing and fell backward, pulling Michael with her. As she tried to push him off, the threshold darkened with the arrival of Roy, followed by Lance and the others.

“Michael, you must obey me,” she shouted in panic, her voice laced with fear.

He looked down at her and smiled, then punched her in the stomach as hard as he could. “It turns out,” he told her as he began to stand, “that shit only works if I’m drugged, and whatever you gave me has worn off.”

Michael moved aside, and Roy and Lance grabbed her arms, yanking her up. “Look, you don’t know who you're fucking with,” she shouted defiantly.

Lance slapped her hard across the face. “We don’t fucking care, bitch,” he growled.

“Michael, where’s the basement?” Roy asked calmly, his voice cutting through the chaos. Michael, still in shock from his own actions, replied, “Oh, sorry, down through there and to the right, you’ll see a door.”

Lance and Roy dragged Olivia down to the basement, her heels falling off as she struggled, her wails echoing through the house. She fought to break loose, but they were far too strong.

Michael looked at Kay, and she smiled at him, taking his face gently in her hands and kissing him. “Good job,” she murmured.

Marcus, closing the door behind them, smiled at Kay, who was still kissing Michael. “Michael, do you know where she keeps her computer?” he asked quietly.

“Eh, no, I never really went anywhere other than the basement and a bedroom,” Michael replied, his mind still reeling from the events.

“Not to worry, I’ll find it,” Marcus said, already moving toward the stairs, ready to search the house.