Freedom is Slavery

by Louis Friend

  *

  Since Dave had taken over Louis’s life, he had survived on a diet consisting of daily doses of semen and an IV drip of other essential nutrients that Dave, Kevin, and Melanie had deemed necessary. There were other additions to the cocktail mix that kept Louis calm and pliable. There was even a good does of female hormones that emasculated Louis—or “Whitney” as he was known more often—even more. This “all-cum diet” had done exactly what Dave had wanted. It made Louis/Whitney a cock-hungry whore who sucked cock like his life depended on it for, in a manner of speaking, it did.

  Kevin took full advantage of Louis’s mouth, using the submissive’s mouth a few times a day. It was Dave’s privilege alone, though, to use Louis’s ‘pussy’ and he had been breaking it in slowly for the last four months.

  Louis had no idea that he’d been in captivity for a third of the year. He had little memory of the days before he was kidnapped. His life had become a blur and it seemed that he had lived his entire life as Dave and Angela’s property.

  *

  Louis could feel Dave’s cock, urgent, against his panties pushing them into the crack of his bottom. Dave held the smaller man against him, his breath hot on the Louis’s neck, his voice in his ear.

  “Is my girl hungry?” Dave asked, knowing full well the answer.

  “Please, Daddy, please put it inside of me,” Louis whined as Dave rubbed his bare cock against the panty-clad ass. Dave grinned to himself, thinking of the times when Louis would beg to not be fucked.

  “Such a little slut,” he whispered into Louis’s ear.

  Dave had been using and abusing Louis’s ‘pussy’ for months now; stretching him out with butt plugs of various sizes. At first, Melanie would stroke Louis’s cock while the poor little sub got his ass stretched, giving Louis mixed messages of pleasure and pain in a sweet discomfort. Now Louis needed his ass filled. He rubbed his ass back against Dave’s cock, practically cooing at the idea of taking Dave’s fat meat inside of him.

  Dave knew that Louis had to be hurting. It had been a week since the little bitch boy had been “milked.” Between that lack of release and the extra hormones in his IV, Louis was a complete bitch in heat. His poor little sexual organ wasn’t available to him for masturbation, either. He had been in a chastity device that encased his little penis and would cause pain whenever he got hard.

  “God, Dave, fuck her already. Can’t you hear her begging for it?” Angela laughed. She sat across from them, taking in the scene.

  She loved watching Dave fuck Louis. Something about seeing her slave-husband bent over and crying out as Dave stuffed his cock into the little sissy gave her goose bumps. She relished every time she heard Louis squeal and each time Dave grunted in satisfaction as he orgasmed.

  Dave looped his thumbs through the side of Louis’s panties and slid them down ever-so-slowly. Angela watched as Louis’s hips moved back and forth, uncontrollably, as if fucking the air.

  “Yes, Daddy, fuck me, Daddy, please…” This whimpering only served to make Dave’s enormous cock even harder. He spit on his hand and rubbed the head of his thick prick, spreading spittle and pre-cum over the purple mushroom head. He looked at Angela and smiled as he lined up the head of his cock with Louis’s waiting bunghole, winking at her as he pushed himself into the slut’s hole.

  Emitting a terrific howl of pain and satisfaction, Louis pushed himself as far down onto Dave’s cock as the larger man would allow. Angela smiled and zoomed her small handheld camcorder in to catch more of the action. She had been carefully documenting her cuckolded husband’s transformation from the beginning. The clips she culled from the hours of tape had garnered her a good income via web and DVD sales.

  She watched through the viewfinder as Louis’s face went through paroxysms of pain and pleasure as Dave drove deep. Dave began spanking Louis’s ass as he fucked the submissive, making Louis’s asshole clench up with each blow. Dave grunted with the new intensity as his cock was clutched by the muscles inside the submissive slut. Angela focused on Dave’s face as he crossed the threshold into orgasm, grabbing onto Louis’s hips roughly and slamming the submissive’s ass down hard, pushing deeper into Louis than before. She watched as Dave’s face attained the calm glow of sexual satisfaction. He slid out of Louis. The submissive whined at being so empty so suddenly.

  Dave removed his filled condom and threw it down in front of Louis as a treat for the cum whore. Angela faded out the scene as Dave wiped himself off before coming to her and kissing her. Leaving the room, they looked back at Louis, down on his knees slurping at the condom, his ankles chained to the wall-mounted hooks that kept him secure. They were both pleased at how well their re-education program was progressing.

  Part 2

  Melanie didn’t have a nursing degree but she knew more than most practicing RNs. She’d been involved in the medical fetish community since before she graduated college and had been practicing with all things medical—needles, injections, bloodletting, enemas, and so much more—ever since. She had even taken to giving her friends and colleagues their annual flu shots for the last few years.

  The main project for the last few months had been the treatment and transformation of her best friend’s husband from a red-blooded American male to a submissive, feminized slave. To that end, she’d been employing a wide variety of hormones, tonics, and other items of questionable origin.

  The patient, Louis, lay on the examination table. His hands were bound above his head and the look of worry on his face was comical to Melanie. She stood next to him, opening an alcohol wipe, and relishing the power that she felt. Lifting up his thin cotton gown, she saw how shriveled his tiny penis had gotten out of fear. She wiped the cool cotton swap over one of his nipples and noticed an immediate change as his penis began to grow from her stimulation. His fear became mortification as his body betrayed him. She said nothing with words but allowed him to see her raise an eyebrow and tsk at the sight.

  His nipples cleaned, she threw away the wipe before donning her rubber gloves. She snapped them on each wrist with menacing finality. She took a large needle from her tray and allowed the light to catch it before bending over him.

  Her smell was intoxicating. Her honey brown hair brushed his shoulder and he felt her warm breath on his skin just as he felt the sharp sting in his right nipple as the needle penetrated his flesh. It seemed to take forever before the needle came through the other side of his aureole. She moved back, allowing him to see the thin piece of metal running into one side of his nipple and out through the other. Despite the pain, the sensation was enough to bring his penis to full arousal.

  She moved to the other side of the examination table and performed the procedure again on his other nipple. This time, he couldn’t help but cry out. Tears welled in his eyes as the sight of his skewered nipples and hard cock was too much to bear.

  “Now, now,” Melanie cooed. “You know this is for the best, baby girl.” Back at her tray, she prepared a hypodermic. “This is some more special medicine for my girl,” she said, leaning over him again.

  The needle pierced his skin and Melanie pushed down the plunger. Her special concoction began welling under his skin.

  “Here you go… Now you’ll have big boobies, just like Auntie Melanie.” And, indeed, his breasts did look more swollen than they had before. She repeated the process on his other breast. The solution had a calming effect on Louis. Likewise, the pain of the procedures thus far had released the natural endorphins that eased him into a more submissive frame of mind.

  Back at her tray, Melanie prepared a rather frightening hypodermic—the needle had to be at least two inches long and the tube attached to it was full. “This is going to hurt,” Melanie said, grinning at him.

  She bent over him, taking his cock in one of her rubber-gloved hands as she sank the needle into his balls. He screamed as he felt the needle pierce him and the liquid run into him like fire.

  “This is going to make your balls really big and sore… and then t
hey’ll start to shrink up until they’re just little beans. This will make more room in your pretty panties, little girl,” she said, chuckling.

  The pain put an immediate cessation to his hardness. His penis became tiny and flaccid and this was exactly what Melanie desired. She unrolled a small canvas bag. Inside were several long, silver, metal skewers. She withdrew one and held it before Louis’s face.

  “Do you know where this is going?” she asked.

  He could only sob and shake his head.

  “This is going all the way down your little penis. This is a sounds.” She placed it back on her tray before getting another alcohol rub that she used on the head of his penis. The alcohol burned but, at the same time, the warmth felt pleasant on some levels to Louis. She noticed that his cock was attempting to get hard again. Rather than allow this, she used her thumb and forefinger to thump his swollen balls. He cried out again and his cock shrunk immediately.

  Taking the sounds, she used some medicinal lubricant on it, also dabbing some on the slit of his penis. Holding his penis with one hand, she used the other to guide the Dittel sounds inside.

  Immediately, the urgent feeling of urinating hit Louis. He was overcome with the dread and humiliation of peeing himself while he wasn’t actually doing so. He’d never felt anything going into his urethra, just urine coming out. He whimpered as he watched the metal spike slide inside of him.

  She loved seeing the clean silver metal disappear into him, knowing the sensations that she sent through his body as she did it. In a sense, she was fucking his penis with this hard metal. She slid it in until she knew to stop. Afterwards, she put a small cage around his cock and balls that held the sounds straight into the air, perpendicular to his body. This sight was so amusing that she had to laugh to herself again.

  While she removed her gloves she admired her handiwork. She thought of the perfect addition to Louis’s discomfort.

  Melanie retrieved a TENS unit from her bag and connected the alligator clips to the metal tip of the sounds. She set it on low and started the electrical current running down the metal into Louis’s penis. He moaned low at the introduction of this new sensation. She smiled before clicking the “UP” button on the unit to increase the voltage.

  He moaned again, this time with a hint of urgency, as if unsure whether he was feeling something pleasurable or painful shooting through his member and running through his body. She clicked “UP” again, twice now. The moan became something of a mewl and then a howl as any question of pleasure was demolished and only pain coursed through him in pulses.

  How she enjoyed being the bringer of pain through her medical experience. Too often she was cautious of giving “ouchies” while every time she was with Louis she could give as much pain as she desired. She watched him writhe and upped the voltage again. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes and his body began to shake uncontrollably. She allowed this to go on for another thirty seconds before slowly dialing back the TENS down to zero.

  She slid the sounds out of him and knew that this brought on the sensation of urination once again. Rather than letting him wet his cell again later on, Melanie removed a prepared catheter from her bag and inserted the pre-lubed tip into his urethra pushing deeper this time until she pushed into his bladder. Immediately, a stream of urine began to flow out and fill the plastic bag between his legs. This humiliation was simply too much. Louis began to cry openly now as he lost control of his bladder.

  This only made Melanie laugh aloud. “Poor baby,” she mocked. “Is she going pee pee all on her own?” She laughed again.

  She went about her business, cleaning up her equipment, as the urine continued to drain from Louis’s bladder and tears continued to fall from his eyes. When empty, she removed the catheter tube and then removed the spikes from his nipples.

  This attention immediately brought a response from his penis again. “See? Everything’s okay,” she giggled.

  She had him roll over onto his stomach, his hard-on brushing the paper of her examination table. She injected him with a sedative that put him out immediately. She would have Kevin wheel him back to his cell later.

  The Houseguest

  My name is Jessica Bowen. 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 shithole 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 Master’s of Psychology degree 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 pigsty 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—his porn stash.

  Every young man keeps a supply of pornographic material on hand and Louis 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 in twenty years before and knew the confusion of bearing such “unusual” desires. I nearly choked on my meal when the thought, I wonder if he’s wearing panties tonight, popped into my head.

  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, 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 respondents. 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 t
he 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 and 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 Louis 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 Louis 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 Louis 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 Louis’s latent bisexuality. I didn’t want him recognizing me… at least not yet.