Cindy
by Michael Elk
An escort surrprise


The door swung open, and I got an unexpected, and most unwelcome surprise. I'd
answered an ad from the newspaper (in the 'escort' section) that had promised
the fantasy domination that I craved. I was only two years out of college and
two years into teaching kindergarten, so I wasn't rich. I'd had to consider
priorities carefully before agreeing to the $200 fee for my hour of "training
and domination".

I was expecting my dominatrix to be a strong, sturdy Amazon type; so I reacted
to the slight wisp of a girl who answered the door with more than mild
consternation. I wanted domination, but I didn't crave an audience, especially
someone's kid.

"Is your mother home?" I stammered in my confusion, though I realized as I was
speaking that the girl was probably older than the teenager that I'd taken her
for. She was about 5' 4", but her slim build and straight blond
shoulder-length hair kept her appearance youthful. Her face was attractive,
but didn't reveal her age, at least to me. For all I could tell, she could
have been anywhere from 12 years old to 30.

"My mother hasn't been home since I was three. You must be Chris. I'm Cindy."
She spoke matter-of-factly, and with little expression, and no hint of sarcasm
or irony. Her voice, however, was gravelly, deeper and more assured than that
of a teenager. It gave some indication of her age, and I realized with horror
that this diminutive female was the person who would attempt to subjugate and
discipline me and, worse, take my $200. I wasn't happy with the thought.

"Look," I sputtered, "I don't want to hurt your feelings, You're very pretty,
but I was expecting someone, you know, .... uh, larger. I think I'd like to
reconsider. Maybe I should go."

"Come in." she replied, as she swung the door wide. It was as though I'd made
no objection. Her face and her voice were both expressionless, and I found her
difficult to read. She turned and disappeared into the apartment, and I
followed because it would have been rude not to.

"I'm not a school girl, just because I'm petite." she said, sounding a bit
annoyed. She swung the door closed behind me. "Competency sometimes comes in
small packages. I've done this more than once before, you know; but if you're
having second thoughts, I'll make you a deal. You'll decide at the end of the
hour what I'm worth. You'll decide how much to pay me. Now, take off your
clothes. Put them on the chair over there."

"Well, you certainly don't waste time." I replied. I began to unbutton my
shirt, still standing by the entrance. I wasn't enthusiastic about her ability
to satisfy my fantasies, but she had made me an offer that I couldn't refuse.

"I'll get changed too. Be right back." She turned and headed towards the
bedroom.

I carried by shirt over to the chair that Cindy had indicated, then removed my
shoes, socks and pants, stripping down to my boxers. I had 10 minutes to
survey the room before my hostess returned. However I would be hard pressed to
describe the layout because I was still upset with developments and too busy
contemplating my folly to pay much attention.

When Cindy returned, she was wearing only panties and bra. She had a well
proportioned figure, and breasts that were surprisingly full for someone so
slight; and even a reasonable musculature on her arms and shoulders, but she
still looked far too much like a Barbie doll for my liking. However I complied
obediently when she asked me to turn around and face away from her.

"I thought I asked you to strip." she said. "Did you think that meant to leave
on your underwear?" I started to protest my modesty, and started to turn
towards her, just as she brought a small riding whip smartly across the back
of my thighs. I hadn't seen her carrying it, so she must have picked it up off
the couch or gotten it from somewhere else; but it hurt like hell.

"**$&^%sus *@#$%ist, Cindy" I swore, rubbing my thigh where she'd struck. "I'm
not a masochist, and I'm not after that kind of domination." I was more than a
little angry.

"I really don't like you taking the Lord's name in vain." she said. "Don't do
it again. Now get those shorts off." This said in a monotone, so that I paid
little heed to the warning that was buried in her rebuke. In fact I felt
annoyed to be told what to do by this slip of a girl/woman. However I did obey
by pulling my shorts down and off my legs, leaving me naked and a little
embarrassed in front her. However she paid no heed to my state of undress, and
other than the objection to my language, she didn't react or seem at all moved
by my outburst. I was pleased to see her set the whip down on a coffee table.
She then moved to a buffet against the far wall, where she retrieved some kind
of a leather harness from the top drawer.

"If you don't go in for pain, Chris, then let's try a little mild restraint.
This harness goes over your shoulders, and then I fasten this velcro around
your wrists."

That was more my style, but I didn't hold out much hope for the erotic
adventure that I'd fantasized. Things hadn't progressed smoothly to date.

The harness had more straps and buckles than seemed necessary, but proved
disappointing. It went over my head and rested on my shoulders as advertised,
but when she drew my hands behind my back, the velcro wrist restraints didn't
bind my arms together at all. Instead, they allowed too much freedom of
movement, and I could have easily undone the binding on either wrist by using
the opposite hand.

She led me into the bedroom and told me to lie face down on the bed, with the
offer of a 'nice massage'. However as soon as I was prone, I watched as she
reached down and brought a long strap from somewhere below the side of the bed
and wrapped the end around my bicep. I then turned my head and watched her
attach a similar tether from the opposite side of the bed to my other bicep. I
guess the purpose was to hold me down, but like everything else, it lacked
substance. I had so much movement in my bound arms that I could have swung
them sideways and undone the velcro myself.

She sat on my buttocks, and began to knead my shoulders and back, and I must
admit that the massage felt wonderful. This was the sort of domination that I
liked - to be restrained yes, but with a kind and caring mistress whose only
goal was my pleasure. I wasn't at all masochistic, and had no desire for the
pain that some submissives crave. I did prefer a woman with some size and
musculature, so that my fantasy of domination might seem more believable, and
I would have liked to have been tied more convincingly. However I remained
still, enjoying the massage, and fantasized being bound so tightly that I
couldn't move a muscle, totally at the mercy of my captor.

"Do you like this?" she purred in a husky, sexy voice that belonged more to a
mature seductress than the Barbie doll that I knew sat on my back and
pretended at being a dominant. At least her voice didn't destroy my efforts at
fantasy.

"Yes it's great. You have a gift." I breathed. I was so relaxed that there was
a danger of falling asleep.

"I have a degree in massage therapy, so I would have been mortified if you
didn't like it. But let's tighten these straps a little, shall we? Then you'll
have no choice in the matter whether you like my massage or not."

She stopped the massage and sat back while she played with the harness I was
in. She seemed to undo the biceps straps from where they were attached to the
bed and seemed to be working them through loops on the harness I was in. Of
course I was on my face and couldn't see exactly what she was up to. Suddenly
she pulled on a strap and I felt the bands on my biceps tighten and my elbows
being drawn together behind my back. She pulled once again, harder, and my
elbows were drawn together so forcefully that they touched each other, and
caused an acute discomfort in my shoulders.

"*&^%$#*sus *@#$+ist", I swore. That hurts. Let it off a bit."

"I told you I don't permit that kind of language in my home, and I won't put
up with it again." And instead of releasing the pressure on my arms, I felt
her begin to wind cord or something around my wrists as well. I didn't like
the direction of this one bit, and started to rise, with the express purpose
of ending the session. I no longer trusted this girl, and feared that I could
be subjected to further unpleasantness.

With sudden and unexpected violence, she drove her fist down hard against the
base of my skull, stunning me and driving me back face down onto the mattress.
"Lie still if you know what's good for you." she said. At the same time, I
felt her draw the cord on my wrists tight and begin to secure a knot.

"You bitch!" I cried. I was more than a little angry. "Untie these fucking
knots and get the fuck off my back."

"I warned you about the language, before. Didn't I ?" And in one motion, she
jumped off both my back and the bed, grabbed me by the hair, practically
yanking it out by the roots, and dragged me off the bed before I had a chance
to react. With my arms out of commission, I had no chance of getting my feet
under me, and I hit the floor with a thump, landing painfully on my shoulder.
Still clutched to my hair, she forced me to my knees, then up to my feet. Then
I was being hauled by the hair rapidly across the room, bent at the waist and
totally off balance. Our journey ended with my antagonist plunking herself
down on a wooden chair, and using my momentum to drag me up and over her
knees. My stomach came down forcefully on her thighs, and I uttered an
involuntary 'OOF' as the air left my lungs and I temporarily lost the ability
to breath. In my incapacitated state, I remained immobile as her right leg
wrap itself around my left thigh, and her left hand slip under my right arm,
above the strap attached to my biceps and through the constricted gap between
the arm and my body. Her arm followed her hand, so that when she bent it at
the elbow back towards her, it imprisoned my biceps in its crook and firmly
secured my arm.

"Your language has been despicable, and I won't tolerate it. This is what your
mother should have done when you were little and first used that foul
language." And her free hand came down forcefully on my naked butt. She didn't
appear to be a particularly strong girl, but she used a full swing of her arm,
and the relatively small size of her palm distributed the blow over a small
area. In short it stung out of all proportion to the size of the person
delivering the punishment.

"Bitch" I repeated with venom, and struggled to get off her lap. I wasn't
about to put up with such treatment from someone as young as she was. It was
like being spanked by my little sister. It should have been easy to break free
with the difference in our sizes, but my legs were off the floor and she had
me held diabolically fast by my one leg and by the arm. I fought like a demon
for a couple of minutes accompanied by taunts and ridicule from my captor,
until it dawned on me that I wasn't going anywhere fast. The only hope I had
was to take us both off the chair and to the floor, but as soon as I tried to
wriggle sideways, and my efforts caused her to slide forward on the chair, she
uttered a determined 'No you don't', lifted and pulled with both her arms and
the one leg entwined about mine and easily drew me back where she wanted me.
She was stronger than I'd given her credit for, and had me in a vice like grip
that I simply couldn't break. But by then I was exhausted with my struggles
and had no energy left to fight anyway.

"Oh, poor Chris. Can't the big strong man get out of the clutches of the mean
little girl? Kind of looks like you're stuck here and about to get the
whipping you deserve. Now this one is for calling me a bitch." and her hand
descended once again, even harder than the first blow, causing me to yelp with
the pain. "And this one is for calling me a bitch a second time."

"Ow! I'm sorry, Cindy. I won't do it again." I could well see that I was all
too secure in her clutches and that she could hold me there forever if she
chose. I wasn't pleased with the spanking, but was not too proud to grovel a
bit to save my behind.

And my tormentor was fully aware of my impotence, and showed no haste to get
on with my punishment. "Well, Chris, I can tolerate being called names myself.
But it's a bit much using the Lord's name the way you did. It's just too bad
for you that I'm such a devoted Christian. Why I attend Church every
Christmas, and even went one time at Easter. So these are to teach you proper
respect for Christian principles - this is for the righteous masses, and for
the rest of us religious zealots as well."

The blows came slowly, but steadily, the 'Whap', 'Whap' of palm against flesh
accompanied by the sound of my pleading and her taunts. My rear became
progressively sorer and sorer, until I no longer felt each individual strike,
but only a continual fire over both cheeks of my butt. Worse almost than the
physical pain was the continual diatribe by my tormentor over such topics as
my pathetic helplessness, the general superiority of females over males, my
foul mouth ("The stronger the language, the weaker the mind" she jeered), her
charitable efforts at disciplining me, and various other inane topics about
which she felt the need to enlighten me. A couple of times I tried to wriggle
free, but my efforts were useless, and I could do little but hope that my
tormentor would eventually show some mercy. Part way through the beating, I
started to count the strokes, because I was viciously erect, my engorged penis
pressing all too deliciously against her legs, and I was deathly afraid of the
humiliation of an orgasm. I would no doubt recover from the pain of the
spanking, but would have been mortified to come all over a girl, even one who
was beating me. It also horrified me to discover that I found my subjugation
erotic, and I had no desire to hear Cindy's taunting voice if she found out
this additional weakness of mine. Counting off my punishment helped to take my
mind off both the unwanted pleasure in my front and the likewise unwanted
discomfort on my rear. I was at 32 before she suddenly leaned forward,
released me, and dumped me unceremoniously on the floor.

"Well I hope that little spanking has corrected your foul mouth." Cindy said
as she turned her back on me and made her way over to the pile of clothes that
I had left on a chair.

Like my garments, I also remained in a crumpled heap, though on the floor, as
I watched her search the pockets of my pants until she found my wallet; then
watched helplessly as she removed the two hundred dollar bills that I had
brought to pay her services. To her credit she didn't touch the forty or so
other dollars that I'd brought with me.

"I did say that you could decide how much to pay after we finished, didn't I?
Do you think it was worth the full $200?"

"I guess so." I said weakly. The session had been far from what I'd contracted
for, but I had enjoyed her form of domination more than I cared to admit, even
to myself. I was still massively erect because of her treatment, and remained
in the fetal position to hide the fact from my antagonist. Aroused as she'd
made me, I was desperate for sexual relief, but too proud to ask for it.

Cindy disappeared into the kitchen part of the apartment with my money, but
soon returned, crouched over my prone body, and began to release me from my
restraints. Gone was the taunting, joking dominatrix that had just whipped my
ass, to be suddenly replaced by an apologetic and apparently caring young
lady. "I'm really sorry, Chris. But I love having a good- looking male like
yourself in my power, and I just got carried away. I know you didn't want what
I did, but I like S & M a lot, and I was having so much fun spanking you that
I really got turned on and things got away from me. Look! Maybe I can make it
up to you, and give you a break on the fee too. I agreed to an hour and its
only been about 40 minutes. What say we wrestle the last 20 minutes and to
make it interesting, I'll return $100 of the money if and when you beat me.
You should enjoy having the upper hand for a change. I'll even remove my
undies since you're already nude. Just don't get too rough, OK?"

*******

I looked forward to wrestling this young nymph for two reasons. It appeared
that I would get some of my money back, and it appeared obvious that some form
of sex would follow such an intimate encounter. I had never wrestled a female
before, especially a pretty naked one, and I'm certain that I wouldn't be the
only young male who would be excited by the prospect. My opponent disappeared
into the bathroom momentarily before emerging without her panties and bra. She
turned out to be a natural blond, but showed no shyness over her nudity, and
moved about nonchalantly as she directed the moving of the coffee table, as
well as a couple of lamps that could get knocked over. We also spread out two
sleeping bags over the carpet to prevent rug burns.

Then, without ceremony, she turned to face me, gave me the most gorgeous
innocent smile, and assumed the crouch of a gladiator entering battle. "No
hair pulling or eye gouging, OK?" she said with a laugh.

She was slightly built, but with long sinewy arms and sturdy shoulders that
gave promise of at least some strength. She had a great body, with graceful,
feminine curves, narrow hips and long, smooth thighs and legs. Her breasts
were not super if you liked them huge, but were substantial, solid yet pert,
with a definite upturn towards the nipples, and of a small enough size that
they remained firm on her chest and showed little sway as she moved. But it
was the nipples that were spectacular, over a half inch in length for sure (I
hoped it was with arousal), looking like two rubber tire studs targeting me as
she approached, and surrounded by beautiful dark and purplish areolas. I had
difficulty tearing my eyes from them in order to concentrate on wrestling,
rather than ogling my opponent.

She turned out to be stronger and more agile than she looked, so that she
could give a respectable tussle. However a female just doesn't have the same
kind of muscle as a male, and our sizes were too dissimilar to give her a
chance at out-wrestling me in any case. But I was more interested in feeling
her body straining with effort against mine, than in demolishing or
embarrassing an opponent, so I only put enough effort into the match to give
her a chance and to make it interesting for both of us. And it was a lot of
fun in spite of the soreness whenever my buttocks made contact with the
material of a sleeping bag or with my opponent. We wrestled for 10 or 15
minutes, taking turns with one of us putting on a hold and the other trying to
escape. I could tell that Cindy was enjoying herself by the occasional laugh
or squeal of delight as she gained or lost an advantage.

It was only after I forced her down, straddled her body, and pinned her wrists
to the carpet that things took a turn for the worst. Even then she didn't
react at all negatively when I took charge. She was wriggling delightfully
beneath me, and giggling at her inability to escape, when I could no longer
resist the charms of her nubile young body, and thinking that she was ready
and willing, bent down to kiss her lips. After all, I'd been allowed
considerable liberties with her breasts as we wrestled and had managed to
fondle them far more than decency should have dictated. And it had appeared
that she had enjoyed the attention paid them. But now her face turned to the
side to take the kiss on the cheek, and suddenly she went very quiet. I wasn't
about to be deterred that easily, and tried to force a kiss directly on her
lips. Obviously that was not to her liking, and she continued to squirm
beneath me, but now in an all out effort to deny my advances.

I'm definitely not a rapist, and I normally wouldn't try to force myself on
anyone; but I had assumed all along that the end result of our wrestling would
be some form of sexual relief for both of us. And all along, she had seemed
willing and cooperative. Now her reticence frustrated me beyond belief. I was
barely out of my teens myself, with typical raging male hormones, and to have
such a beautiful young nymph practically seduce me and then suddenly withdraw
her favors, was vexation beyond endurance. I released my grip on her wrists,
placed my hands on either side of her face, and tried to hold her head in the
proper position to deliver a kiss. I had this wild notion that if I could kiss
her and get a response, then all would be well and she would melt under my
charm and superior sex appeal.

We were both struggling with our jobs - mine to hold her lips steady while I
ravished them and hers to thwart my unsophisticated advances as best she could
- when pain suddenly highjacked my efforts and ended all my amorous pursuits.
While I was occupied with my unwanted molestation, the little vixen had worked
her hand between our compressed bodies and latched onto my scrotum, which she
now clutched in her hand and squeezed with a viciousness that reeked of a
desire for revenge. The pain was unbearable, and I felt like I might retch.

"Get off me, you bastard. What do you take me for, a slut? Do you think I
sleep with just any asshole that comes my way?"

I got off her, and quickly. I wanted the pain to stop. It's humbling to learn
how totally vulnerable to assault the male is. How do all those rapes you read
about happen? Are women so naive as not to know about our weakness? I removed
myself from her body as quickly as I could, but she showed no signs of
relinquishing her advantage, and the pain, though somewhat lessened,
nevertheless continued.

"On your knees, asshole." she said. You want to act like a pig, then we'll
treat you like one."

I didn't need a second invitation. I would have obeyed any order she gave at
the moment. But once I was on all fours, she reached between my legs with her
free hand, and relieved the other from its duties. Now she was above me, and
controlling me with her hand between my legs from the rear. "Walk like a dog.
Move!" she said, and forced me to scamper on hands and knees about the room.
As long as I kept moving, there was only minor discomfort, but if I slowed or
seemed to tire, the pain returned. With her merciless grip on my genitals, she
kept me moving and directed my immediate future. And that immediate future
lasted about 5 minutes of enormous discomfort and useless pleadings on my
part.

"Stop here." she eventually ordered, and I obeyed quickly and with relief.
"You are scum. I don't want you looking at me. If you turn your head even to
take a peak, then I'll castrate you right here and now. Is that understood?"
This was accompanied by a particularly violent pressure on my genitals and I
hastened to agree to her terms.

I suppose, had I given the situation some thought, I would have realized that
I hadn't really done anything particularly criminal. But when one was being
punished for a felony, verbally saddled with guilt, and anxious only to
forestall further agony, there was little opportunity to consider my situation
and to question why my antagonist was doing this to me. I didn't dare turn my
head, but at the moment we were beside a bureau against a wall, and I heard a
drawer open. Then I felt her hand tighten once more on my scrotum, and sensed
my abuser moving above me, raising and lowering her feet in an unnatural
manner. The sound of elastic snapping led me to think she was putting on her
panties using her one free hand while she tortured my vitals with the other.
Why she would do this was a mystery, but I was too preoccupied with pain to
care. If I had only known the treat she was preparing for me, I would have
screamed in terror.

Suddenly I felt her body descend to meet mine, her breasts and stomach pressed
against my back, forcing me to steady myself to support the added weight.
"This is for all the girls you've thought about raping." she whispered in my
ear.

Temporarily that confused me. Though I couldn't deny that I had often
fantasized raping girls, I was just a normal guy and that was just a normal
guy thing. Fantasies are not abnormal. Perhaps if we could be guaranteed
amnesty for our actions, some of us might be tempted, but the vast majority of
guys are decent and even compassionate, and would never contemplate the act.

Without releasing her grip on my vitals, she pulled her head back from my ear,
and the pressure of her body on mine lessened. Then I felt a quick thrust of
her hips and the dildo penetrated at least an inch, long before I could react,
or even before I knew what was being done to me. Of course by then it was far
too late for me to clamp shut the sphincter muscles that might have prevented
her assault. The sudden incursion took my breath away, and my immediate
response was to arch my back and tighten my muscles.

"Relax! Or I'll rip your insides apart. I used vaseline on this thing, but
your insides aren't exactly built with this use in mind." Her body was once
more pressed tightly to mine, her lips once again near my ear, and her breath
hot on my neck. Perhaps things would have been different had I registered that
her hand was no longer squeezing my scrotum. Certainly I should have been able
to pull free, now that there was no threat to my manhood, by simply standing
up. But I was in so much shock at being raped that I didn't even notice, and
accepted her assault. Instead I worried that she might hurt me badly, and
spent my efforts at trying to relax in order to lessen the violation of my
colon.

My tormentor took me forcefully, but gently, my body shaking with both shock
and with my efforts to support both our weights while on my knees. With light
thrusts, and the occasional wiggle of her hips, she worked it in and gave my
body time to adjust to the unnatural object being inserted. Unlike the
spanking I had received earlier, my rape was not painful. But that didn't mean
it was comfortable. Once she had it all the way in, it felt like I had to go
to the bathroom in the worse way, and the muscles of my colon contracted
involuntarily against the intruder, unsuccessfully trying to force it back
out.

While she worked at penetration, her arms encircled my torso, gently caressing
my chest, stomach and lower abdomen. And when she stumbled upon and recognized
my erection, her hand immediately closed on the object and took possession.
Then she surprised me by slowly rolling the two of us over onto our sides.
Without direction, my body assumed the fetal position, while hers, behind me,
mirrored the shape and remained attached to mine through the dildo. It did
slip back a couple of inches when we hit the floor, and I took this
opportunity to try to get free. However I was held fast behind by her body and
in front by her hand, and quickly discovered that there was no escape. And a
quick thrust of her hips drove it all the way back in, reestablishing the
territory that she'd temporarily lost.

I lay there helpless as she worked her body against mine, causing the dildo to
slide back and forth within me, perhaps only an inch or two. It was like
nothing I'd ever experienced. At first there was little pleasure, but then
friction with the prostrate began to cause an amazing sensation, just as her
hand began to stroke my engorged member. In mere seconds, I came explosively.
My tormentor continued her molestation of my body for a minute or two longer,
until a violent shudder seized her body, and indicated that she had reached
orgasm as well.

********

"I guess you didn't beat me at the wrestling," she said mischievously as we
sat in her kitchen with a coffee, "so I guess I'll get to keep the $200. But
that seems like a fair price. You wanted domination and I think you got more
than you asked for. Would you like to come back a week Thursday for another
session?"

"I'll have to see what my schedule is. But I do want to make another
appointment. I'll give you a call."

"Oh don't bother calling. I asked you if you'd like to come back on the 28th,
not whether you would. I've already booked you in every other Thursday at
8:00pm. My schedule is getting full and that's all the time I can give you.
The price will always be $200, and I'd strongly suggest that you don't ever
miss without a damn fine reason."

Now there were parts of our session that I had hated, but other parts so
unique to my experience and so spectacular that they begged for a repeat
performance. So I really intended to make another appointment, but I wasn't
going to be told when to come, and how often. $200 for an hour's work was also
plenty steep, and I sure didn't intend to spend that kind of money on a
regular basis. "I'm sorry, but I'll come when and if I want, not when you
decide. And I don't like to be threatened."

"Oh you'll be here when I tell you to be if you know what's good for you." she
said. "You see, I've just removed the videos from the two cameras I have in
the apartment and locked them in my wall safe. Those cameras were positioned
to give a nice view while I spanked you and while I raped your behind. Sorry
that's not quite correct. It was you that I positioned to give the cameras a
nice view. In any case, your face will be quite clear and recognizable in many
shots. Mine will also appear, but I'll likely fuzz that out if I ever have to
release the video."

"You bitch." I shrieked when the full extent of my predicament sunk in. And I
suddenly realized that it was all a setup for the purpose of blackmailing me.
My emotions went from disbelief to anger to fear.

"I can't afford that much money." I began pleading when I finally understood
the extent of the power she held over me.

"Chris. Relax. I always investigate a new client before taking them on
permanently. You are young, single, and have a nice teaching job - your second
year. You can well afford $400 a month, though you may not get to drive a
Porsche quite as soon in your career. What you cannot afford is for this video
to turn up on YOUTUBE, or in your principal's mailbox. I like you, Chris, so
I'm sure that I'd never do that to you - but being my client will insure that
I can be trusted.

"Well I am tired from all that workout, so I'll see you to the door. On your
next visit, we'll watch the videos together, OK? It should be fun."