Freedom is Slavery

by Louis Friend

  “This,” I said, “is what you need. Can’t you feel it? Won’t you bend to it?”

  I could feel Charles’s pulse pounding through his sex. My mouth was watering and I felt my clit get hard in my panties. Moreover, I could feel Louis’s resolve weakening. He wanted Charles’s cock. He needed this because I did.

  I sank now to my knees. Hesitant, shaky, but down I went. I trailed my hand over Charles’s sex, tracing the ridge around the head of his massive cock. I heard a groan, looked to Charles, and realized it wasn’t him making the noise. It was coming from my mouth… it was Louis groaning, feeling the desire that burned inside of me… of us.

  Normally, I’d have had my lips wrapped around Charles by now but I wanted to take it slow and easy to let Louis realize just how wonderful servicing a man could be; how marvelous a cock is. I could feel my mouth watering as my fingers played across the ridged surface, feeling the velvet soft mushroom head, running a finger down along the underside of his tool to the base.

  I leaned forward and took in the strong heady scent of manhood. It was intoxicating. My eyes closed as I moved closer, my mouth opening. Then I stopped and forced my eyes open. I wanted Louis to see everything, experience it all. I looked at him in the mirror with his own Charles there, cock standing at attention in his hands. As I leaned forward, so did he. Our eyes were locked as we licked the tip of Charles’s cock, tasting the salty sourness of man.

  We opened our mouths wider and, likewise, Louis opened his eyes wider. I could see the fright there.

  It’s all right, I thought to him. I’ll be here to guide you. You’re safe.

  And with that, we took Charles into our mouth, feeling the bulbous head roll over our lips and onto our tongue. The soft hardness filling our eager mouths. We heard him moan and felt the satisfaction that comes with pleasing. This made us move our heads further onto him.

  Usually Charles likes to put a hand in my hair and direct me as I suck him but this time he just let me lead Louis through the experience. I wanted him to savor every inch and every sensation.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this, thought Louis.

  “This is what you were born to do,” I told him. “You were made for making men happy. You were born to suck cock.” With that, I leaned in even closer, taking Charles as deep as I could without gagging. A few faint wisps of his pubic hair tickled my nose.

  I began moving my head back and forth along his shaft, slowly easing him in and out, wanting to go faster but hesitant to scare Louis.

  Without warning, however, I felt my head moving quicker. It wasn’t me doing this. It was Louis. I smiled inwardly and knew that we had just made a breakthrough.

  A low moan came from deep within as Louis took Charles deeper than I had felt comfortable going before. The hunger had him. He needed to feel more, to know what it meant to feel that emptiness filled. Our throat worked, swallowing Charles as deeply as we could.

  Charles joined with his own moan and swore under his breath as Louis worked his cock like he was born to it, just as I had told him, just as I knew.

  Usually I can tell when Charles is climaxing from the forceful way he fucks my face, pumping as deep as he can. But perhaps something about Louis’s mouth was different for Charles simply let out another low, guttural moan before unleashing a flood into our mouth. This was Louis’s first taste of cum and swallowed it down with demanding thirst.

  Spent, Charles pulled out and I heard Louis say, “I want more.” I knew that he had joined me and I began to feel whole for the first time in a long time.

  “Wendy?” Dr. Herzog asked, “Is Louis still here?”

  “He’s somewhere inside of me, Doctor. He’s content and knows that I am the real person that he always needed to be.”

  She smiled and told me that when I wasn’t called forth from Louis’s subconscious that I would be much more present in his life. More than fleeting effeminate gestures, he would feel far more like the girl he truly is. I would be calling more of the shots. He would feel my hunger and be a cockslut. He would be this way because I am this way.

  Dress Rehearsal

  I was in California for a conference. It was deathly dull and my evenings were filled with lonely hours at the hotel bar followed by flipping through TV channels, reading, and then bed. This daily routine was disrupted on the third evening by a knock at the door followed by a note being slid underneath.

  Oh, great, the hotel must think I’m checking out tomorrow, I thought, picturing some confused phone calls to the front desk.

  Rather than a bill, what I found was a handwritten note that read: ‘In front of your hotel. 7PM. Red Camry. Male driver. Get in back. Speak when spoken to.’

  It was signed DW and I knew who it was from. I also knew that I had to obey.

  As promised, there was a red Camry outside of my hotel the next day at 7PM. I went to it and the rear passenger door opened. Crawling inside I was greeted by a taut, tanned, tiny woman with an amazing body and sparkling emerald eyes. Her driver was a large, well-hewn man with a long goatee. He kept his eyes on the road and pulled out once I had shut my door. It took a lot for me not to engage in pleasantries. I knew that I was in relatively “safe” hands as DW would never put me in harm’s way. This was to be a long-distance lesson from her.

  “My sources tell me that you’re hiding something,” the woman purred.

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I replied truthfully.

  “Okay, we can play it that way.” She handed me a blindfold and I donned it.

  We sat in silence for a while as the miles ticked by. She told me that her name was Mistress C and told me that I needed to breathe deeply as she put something over my face, covering my mouth and nose. I heard a slight hiss and caught the unmistakable scent of nitrous oxide. My head felt very light and my eyelids heavy. I don’t remember much after that.

  When I awoke sometime later, I was sitting on a stage looking into an empty auditorium. Still bleary, I don’t know what I realized first: that I was bound to a chair or that I was wearing a French maid’s outfit. I struggled with my bonds, trying to see where I was bound and if I could get loose. My legs were tied to the legs of the heavy wooden chair. My arms were bound in a sleeve uncomfortably behind my back. Moreover, I found that I was not wearing anything under my skirt though something was clamped to my testicles.

  A door opened somewhere behind me and I felt a tingle in my balls. Heavy heels clicked and each “clop” sent a jolt through me. As the noise got louder, the sensation increased until it was bordering on pain.

  From behind me Mistress C said, “I’m speaking to the person inside of Louis. Her name is Wendy. I want Wendy. I want Wendy to come out and play.”

  I felt something flowing through me, out of me. At the same time, I felt like a flower blooming, petals unfolding. Her words penetrated me and brought something out. Was that just nitrous oxide or some kind of hallucinogenic? Regardless, I was feeling less and less like myself.

  “Are you here?” she asked me, her breath hot on my neck.

  “I am here,” I replied, my voice higher and lighter than it ever had been before.

  She laughed wickedly and came around to stand in front of me. Even more gorgeous than before, she was wearing a short leather skirt and a bodice that made her ‘cups runneth over.’ On her long tan legs she wore mid-calf leather boots that I got a good look at when she placed one on my chest and pushed it against me. She had me kiss the tip before putting it back on the floor with a clunk that sent shocks through me.

  “Well, welcome, Wendy. I hear that you don’t get out to play too often, is that true?”

  “Yes, Ma’am!” I cried.

  She ‘tsked’ and corrected me. “I’m not your school teacher, I’m your Mistress. Now, try again.”

  “Yes, Mistress!”

  “That’s better. Well, I’m glad that you’re here to play. I’ve heard a lot about you and I look forward to seeing if the rumors are true.”

  She laughed and
clapped her hands twice. To my visible reaction she said, “Do you like my toy, Wendy? It’s a TENS (Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation) device that I have set to react to sound. It’s quite sensitive… ISN’T IT?” As she yelled the last two words I felt another bolt go through me and gritted my teeth in response.

  “Yes, Mistress!”

  She nodded and grabbed one of my nipples under my top and gave it a wicked pinch and twist. “Good… don’t forget it.” She held onto it, getting tighter before releasing me and laughing at my gasping pain.

  She disappeared behind me again and I noticed her male sub was now in the auditorium, the sole member of the audience. She returned with a crop and started swatting at my bare thighs. The cracks activated the TENS, sending little shocks through me that seemed to meet those from my thighs like two sets of ripples meeting each other in a pond. She lifted up my top and started swatting my nipples, harder now. I tried to not cry out but couldn’t help it. Each swat was a stinging agony as it accompanied the blast of electricity.

  Without warning she plopped down on one of my legs, her thighs around mine and caressed my face. “Such a pretty face, Wendy. I love the way your makeup turned out with your Clara Bow lips. They’ll look so sweet around my cock…” She laughed again and traced her fingernail over my lips before pushing her finger into my mouth. I sucked on it eagerly. Her other hand went under my top and pinched my nipple again. I sucked even harder at this added stimulation.

  She got up and disappeared again. I saw that her slave boy was stroking his cock while watching us. His cock was twice the size of mine—both in length and girth. I could see that even at this distance.

  When she returned she was wearing a long, thick black rubber strap-on dildo. She put a boot up on the arm of the chair and pulled my head down in order to kiss and suck on it. “Show Mistress how much Wendy likes to suck cock.”

  She saw that I wanted to take more into my mouth than I was able to get at this angle and laughed at what an eager slut I was. I almost embarrassed myself at how hungrily I was slurping on her rubber dick.

  “Oh, this will never do,” she said. “How am I to cum if you can barely reach my cock?” she asked in mock-desperation. She turned and addressed the ‘audience.’ “Slave, get up here and undo this bitch’s bonds.” Each loud word sent shudders of shocks through my loins.

  Obediently, he came to the stage and untied my limbs. Stepping shakily, I was lead to a bench that stood about waist high with padding on top. Mistress C laid me over it and put a rubber dildo in my hands. “Go ahead; I know you like to have your mouth full. Show me how much.” She laughed again, each vibration being caught by the TENS. I whimpered and slid the rubber cock into my mouth, sucking it greedily.

  Soon I felt either she or her slave slather my exposed bottom with lubricant. Her hand was on my shoulder and I watched as the well-manicured nails bit into my flesh. Suddenly, with an unladylike grunt she thrust into me, the noise setting off the TENS yet again. She drove into me hard and deep on her first thrust. I gasped around the cock in my mouth and squealed.

  “That’s right, Wendy, feel this cock inside of your pussy. Feel how it is to be fucked. You sweet little girl.” She started fucking me rhythmically, each slam sending more shocks through me.

  The pure number of sensations felt like it was overloading me. I don’t know if Mistress C came from the rubber cock rubbing against her or if she felt I had had enough. She pulled out and allowed me to fall in a heap to the floor. She clomped away, each step shocking me with vigor.

  After a few moments, she called to me, “Wendy, crawl over here for your reward.”

  I followed the sound of her voice, keeping my head down and crawling to her. She was downstage with her slave, naked, next to her.

  “I was going to allow you to suck my slave’s cock but he’s been bad. I know how sad this must make you but I’m not about to reward him with your mouth after he’s been errant in his ways. However, I still want you to drink his cum.”

  She allowed her slave to masturbate. It didn’t take long until he was asking her permission to cum as he had been stroking throughout the evening.

  “Yes, slave…cum on my cock.” He grunted and unleashed his load on her black strap-on.

  “Now, Wendy… eat the cum off my cock.”

  I positioned myself before her cock and took it deep into my mouth, licking the salty cum from the rubber and knowing that it was her gift to me.

  “Would you like if I allowed you to cum yourself? To masturbate onto my boots?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes, please ma’am!” I said eagerly.

  She snapped her fingers, a jolt going through me in response.

  “Too bad, Wendy… you just called me ‘ma’am’ again. That means that our time tonight is done. My slave will help you get dressed.” She turned and started walking offstage. “Oh, and Wendy, the next time you see me the auditorium won’t be empty. Consider this a dress rehearsal. When you feel the cold night air on your face, you won’t be Wendy any more, you’ll be back to Louis. Just promise me that Louis will let Wendy out to play more. He will, won’t he?” She laughed her wicked laugh that sent chills down my spine and shocks through my genitals.

  Her slave proved particularly helpful as he helped me out of my outfit and gave me my bundle of street clothes along with some face cream to get my makeup off. After I had changed he drove me back to my hotel in silence. When I got back to my room there were a dozen roses waiting for me with a note that said:

  “You did well - DW.”

  Cabaret Encounter

  She sat down at the small table in the cabaret, joining the man who was already there. The air was crisp and cold and should have been thick with smoke. This kind of place cried out for cigarettes. It was an unusual but appropriate venue for a literary conference.

  Being engrossed in his book he didn’t take much notice as she sat down. It wasn’t until he caught her lovely scent that he glanced over the cover to take in his new table mate.

  She wore her black hair in a bob and wore her small-lensed glasses at the end of her nose. She was pale with dark red lipstick. Her striking dark eyes were surrounded by long lashes. He lowered his book a bit more to see her long neck and the brooch she wore. Trying not to stare, he returned to his reading, unable to concentrate on a word.

  *

  She relaxed as the next presenter got on stage. She’d driven all the way down from New York to Philadelphia and the traffic left her a bit frazzled. She tried to just concentrate on the speaker but she felt the eyes of the man next to her. She shifted, trying to see if he was really staring or if it was just her imagination. No sign of a quick head-turn. He seemed to be fully lost in the presentation slides being projected on stage. She took the opportunity to gander at her companion.

  He was fairly handsome, despite his thinning hair and middle-aged paunch. As her girlfriends put it, “He didn’t hurt the eye.” Then she saw what he had been reading so studiously upon her arrival. The cover was innocuous but the title, Fast Forward: Confessions of a Porn Screenwriter, was definitely of interest. She had to bite her tongue from blurting out what came to her mind. Rather, she turned back to the speaker and tried to keep her wits about her.

  Between seminars she waited a few minutes before talking to him. She let him finish writing his notes before she asked if he was a local or if he had come in from out of town for the conference.

  *

  He was startled to hear her speak to him. It took him a second to find his voice, “Out of town,” he stammered. “Cleveland,” he clarified. Thus began their interlude of small talk.

  He was amazed that this gorgeous woman would be talking to him but he quickly discounted any overtones of flirtation and imagined that she must simply be bored and passing the time until the next lecture. That was, until she asked, “What are you up to this evening?”

  “Not a whole lot,” he said, hoping that perhaps they could grab a cup of coffee and continue to chat after the da
y’s program was over. “How about yourself?”

  “I may go out to dinner later but I’ve been told that since I’m in this part of the city that I simply must check out a store over at Fifth and Brandenberg. When I told my friends that I was coming to this area they said, ‘Oh, you have to check out the fetish store that’s right nearby.’” She laughed. “I don’t know why my friends would think I’m particularly interested in a fetish store but perhaps they’re picking up on something in my writing that I’m not aware of.” She laughed again.

  “I always find that an author doesn’t always pick up on everything they’re sending across. It’s tough to read between one’s own lines. But I have trouble reading through anyone’s lines at times,” he said, hoping that she’d clarify what he hoped she was saying.

  “Yes, some people are incredibly dense at times.” She smiled wickedly.

  “I think that store is on my way back to my hotel. I’d love to see what the fuss is about if you don’t mind some company,” he said.

  “That sounds delightful.”

  Their conversation was cut off by the announcement of the next speaker. They turned their eyes back to the lectern though their attention was elsewhere.

  They chatted and walked along the avenue, finding the fetish store with ease. There were a few nervous chuckles, mostly from him, as they perused the wide array of leather, latex, lace, and other implements of pleasure and pain. She watched him carefully, trying to see what he made of everything around him. As he seemed to take it all in stride, she began seeing just how she could “push” him.

  Taking a harness and strap-on dildo off of a counter she held it up to her waist and asked, “What do you think?”

  Putting his finger up to his chin contemplatively he remarked, “I don’t know. If you’re going to use a strap-on, you might as well go bigger.”

  She grinned. “It’s all a matter of perspective,” she opined.

  They continued to browse before going around the corner to a little hole-in-the-wall pub where they quickly got onto the subject of perspective again.