Gabriella: A young man is taken against his will.  
by Michael Elk



Little did I know when I crossed the threshold at Mrs Brown's boarding house,
that I'd entered a world where I'd lose my free will and begin an unwilling
fall into depravity. I was 18 and on my own for the first time in my life. I'd
been a ward of the province and bounced around in several foster home
situations since I was 9. However at 18, support for foster children ends in
Ontario, and I'd been sent out on my own, with a couple hundred dollars and
instructions to check in with a care worker once a month. I'd gone to Toronto,
figuring that it would be easier to get work in a larger city, and the cab
driver had recommended Mrs Brown's place for rent at a reasonable price.

Mrs Brown was a short, plump woman of about 50, who struck me as a shrewd,
though not unkindly, business person. She asked a lot of questions, and soon
had a brief version of my quite dismal life history. Her curiosity might have
turned off a normal person, but it flattered me since I was not accustomed to
people showing that kind of interest. And when I asked the price of the room,
she obviously realized my lack of funds. "I'll tell you what, Chris." she said
"I could use someone for small jobs around here, so why don't you work for me
a couple hours each evening after you get back from job hunting, and the room
will be free - at least until you find employment."

Then she rang a little bell on the desk, which immediately brought forth from
an adjoining room, a lovely girl of East-Asian descent. "Mei," said Mrs Brown
"show Mr Langley to his room. I've got him in number 10."

Mei was only about 5' 2" and slight of build, but with a gorgeous face and
nice thick black hair. My situation was definitely looking up, and I tried to
chat up this angelic apparition as she led me up the stairs. She responded
briefly to all my efforts, with a decided Asian accent, but made no attempt to
initiate conversation herself. Nevertheless I took her reticence for shyness
and resolved to get to know her better. Little did I know that I soon would,
but not in the way I thought, and not at all willingly.

My room was small, but clean, and directly above the desk. In fact, as I lay
on the bed, reading, I found that I could hear most of what was said at the
desk, via an air vent near the head of the bed. And after 8pm, and about the
3rd male visitor asking for a girl of a specific name, it became quite clear
that Mrs Brown was operating a brothel. That fact didn't really bother me.
However the thought that the lovely girl who had showed me my room and had
infatuated me so completely, was likely a prostitute, didn't sit so well.

I was just drifting off to sleep - it must have been about 9:30 - when I was
abruptly brought to full alertness by hearing my name through the vent. "We
should act quickly with this one before he gets established here, or finds a
job." It was Mrs Brown's voice. "He has no family and no ties at all. And that
young, boyish face would be worth a lot to the right patrons. But he has to be
convinced to our way of thinking, and soon. I've called Gabriella, and she'll
be here in a couple hours. She can start with him tomorrow morning. Give him a
nice wake-up call, so to speak."

I think I dressed and threw my clothes into my small suitcase in under a
minute. I wasn't particularly brave, and I sure didn't like the sound of the
conversation I'd just overheard. Then I was out on the landing, descending the
stairs at a hurried rate, and heading towards the door and my freedom from
this apparent madhouse.

"Where are you going?" a surprised Mrs Brown said from behind the desk.

"I decided I'm not staying." I replied sheepishly as I swept past the desk,
totally unprepared in my panic, to explain my actions.

"Oh I think you will." she replied ominously, and reached below the desk to
push a button or something, an obvious response to my escape attempt . Though
her calm, cold reaction was mystifying and mildly alarming, I couldn't see how
she could stop me. That is, until I reached the door and found no handle, only
a circular brass fitting that required a key to open. Almost immediately three
girls emerged from two or three adjoining rooms. I saw that Mei was one of
them. A second was another Asian girl who could have been Mei's twin, slight
of build and small of stature, but quite pretty. The third was a black girl
who was larger, though still only about 5' 6", with a much plainer face than
the Asians, and more sturdily built. She wasn't fat, but her tight fitting
jeans displayed that plump curvaceous rear that is desirable enough to solicit
implants in certain circles.

"Girls, show Mr Langley back to his room, please. No, on second thought, put
him into the suite."

The three girls approached me, and the two Asians attempted to take an arm
each. I easily pulled away from the one girl, but Mei clung stubbornly to my
left arm, refusing to be easily dislodged as I tried to shake free of her
grip. For a small girl, she was stronger than she looked. By then, the other
girl had seized my right arm again and I had to violently pull it from her
grasp once more before resuming my efforts against Mei. I'm far from a violent
person, one who would view himself as a protector of women, not a beater of
them. I could easily have freed an arm and decked either girl, easily broken
bones or killed the two of them had I wished.. I was so much bigger and
stronger, and they were half my size with no apparent muscle. However that
kind of action never crossed my mind, and so proved to be my downfall. In
retrospect, I should have flailed away at them with all my resources.

Suddenly I felt arms around my knees and realized that the black girl had
quietly approached from the rear, and now had my legs in a tight vice that
prevented motion and rooted me to the spot. She now stood up quickly, never
releasing her grip on my legs, and drove her shoulder firmly into my buttocks.
As I pitched forward, the other two had time to capture a wrist each, with the
result that I could not bring my arms forward to cushion my fall. My head
struck the wooden floor violently, temporarily stunning me. Before I could
recover, the black girl was straddling me with her rump firmly seated in the
small of my back. I first tried to shake free my arms, but both Asian girls
were firmly latched onto my wrists and I had no leverage. Then I tried to get
to my knees, but the black girl anticipated my efforts, lifted herself about 6
inches and drove that sumptuous butt of hers hard down onto my upper back,
driving the air from my lungs and ending my weak effort to escape. On my
right, I felt a foot shoved into my ear and another into my armpit, as the
girl on that side straightened and immobilized the arm.

"Help me, Monica." Mei said, the strain of effort in her voice. "I can't bend
his arm."

So the black girl (obviously Monica) joined forces with Mei against my left
arm. Their 4 limbs proved too much for my 1, and they quickly worked the arm
around and behind my back, where Monica shoved it high up past my shoulder
blade and held it firmly in position. Then Mei joined the Asian on the other
side and quickly forced the right arm into position beside the left. Now the
black girl could hold me unassisted and the other two rose from my prostrate
form and disappeared through a hall door.

"Relax, buster" the black girl whispered, leaning forward and breathing
seductively into my ear. "You struggle and I'll break your arms. But if you
behave, you just might find it fun to be Monica's prisoner." And with that she
drove a large, moist tongue into my ear, and pressed down with enough force
that I couldn't turn my head away. A shiver traveled up and down my spine. A
tongue in the ear might have been sexually stimulating had I not been in such
a state of shock. And when she finally ceased the assault and straightened up,
it was with a laugh that I took as derisive and diabolical. I didn't like her
or being under her control.

I was suddenly aware of Mrs Brown still behind the desk and passively
observing my capture. Then Mei returned and approached my helpless form. She
disappeared from view, but I sensed her bending down behind me, then felt and
heard the handcuffs being applied to my wrists.

"Get him upstairs" said Mrs Brown.

The black girl stood, but maintained a grip on my arms, keeping them high
against my back, making the handcuffs essentially unnecessary. Then with
surprising strength, she hauled me forcefully to my feet, and shoved me
towards the stairs. Keeping my left arm captured, she let go with her right
arm, and brought it around my throat, pulling my body tightly against hers.
That way she could push me forward and still keep me under control. "Move
darling. And I'd suggest you don't resist. If you want to fight, I will
happily dislocate your shoulder. Cooperate and you won't be hurt."

I was taken unwillingly back upstairs to a room at the far end of the
corridor. Mei led the procession, and Monica controlled me without help, using
only her strength and brute intimidation. I was forced face down onto a bed
with Monica again climbing possessively onto my back. She kept my left arm up
near my shoulder while Mei removed the handcuffs and used them to lock my free
arm to the rail at the head of the bed. By now I was too cowed to resist, and
when the two of them joined forces to cuff the left arm as well, they met with
no opposition. I also felt them working on my legs, binding them to the foot
of the bed, but was now certain that I would be killed and too devastated to
react.

"Remove his clothes" I heard from the doorway, and realized that Mrs Brown had
followed our parade upstairs.

Monica regained her perch on by back, while Mei left the room, but soon
returned with scissors, handing them to Monica. who began cutting off my
shirt. It was one of my favorites so I let out a howl of protest and futilely
struggled against my restraints. Soon the shirt was in shreds and was pulled
unceremoniously from under my body and deposited in a waste basket beside the
bed.

"My turn" Mei said sweetly, exchanging places with my black tormentor. I felt
her hands reaching under my body, but she was only unbuckling my belt, and
then drawing the belt out through its loops. "Don't be scared.. I be careful
with your jewels" she said and proceeded to lend my jeans the same treatment
as Monica had my shirt. When she finished I was laying strapped to the bed
with my boxers the only fabric keeping me from total nudity.

******

I was awakened by someone shaking me by the shoulder. At first I was too
groggy to realize where I was, but finding myself face down, still tied to the
bed, quickly brought me back to reality. I remembered being attacked and
hogtied by 3 small girls, and under the instructions of a grandmother figure,
and I was having a difficult time coping with the fact. And I had to pee
badly.

"Hi. I'm Gabriella." a gravelly female voice from above and behind me. "Wake
up, because we've got a lot of work ahead of us."

The view from my trussed position wasn't perfect, but by rolling as far as I
could to the side and turning my head, I could see the source of the voice.
And for a moment, I wondered if I was dreaming. Looking down on me, tall, and
blond, dressed in black leather, was a vision from my most erotic fantasy. Not
only was she wearing the dominatrix apparel, but my attention was frozen on
the short riding crop tapping gently against her leg to emphasize her
position. She looked to be about 40, old enough to be my mother, and the face,
toughened and lined with her years was not so much pretty, but rather
attractive through confidence and authority. Her legs were bare from her
ankles to the black garter belts peaking from beneath a black leather skirt,
and though she would prove to be only my height of 5' 10", from my prostrate
position on the bed, looking up, she looked gigantic, with legs a mile long.
She squatted down until her face was level with mine, and a foot away.

"Chris, you and I are going to spend some time together, you learning
obedience and me teaching it. Do you think you might like to be controlled by
a woman?" She stated it calmly and matter-of-factly. She could have been
commenting on the weather. However the tone and her demeanor were still
intimidating, and it seemed like she was talking down to me like a child. I
couldn't meet her eyes, and didn't respond.

She reached out casually and grabbed my ear and twisted viciously. I howled in
pain. "I asked you a question, Chris, and I expect an answer." Her tone had
lost it's easy manner, and was now sharp and demanding. Still maintaining her
grip on my ear, "Now do you think you could yield to a woman. Would you like
to become a submissive?"

"I.. I don't think I'd like it." I stammered, wanting only the pain to
subside.

A further crank on the ear enticed yet another shriek from her hapless victim.
"Are you quite sure about that, Christopher?"

"I guess maybe I would like it" I hollered. I would have said anything to
lessen the pain, and was rewarded with the release of my aching appendage.

"Well, I think we are both in agreement then."

Standing up quickly, I saw her draw back the riding crop, and swing it
viciously down across my bare shoulders. Once again I shrieked with pain.

"You're quite lucky, young man, that I am not a sadist. I would much rather
caress you than beat you. At heart I am kindly and loving. However I'm afraid
that the only way to rectify any feelings of male superiority you might
harbor, and to steer you towards a proper respect for women, is through a
little pain at the beginning. Once you know your place, and your mistress,
beatings will not be necessary and you will come to appreciate submissiveness.
Now to demonstrate what will happen if you resist, I will give you 5 more
strikes with this whip. Would you like that, Chris?"

"Yes." I answered with a question in my voice and not at all sure what was
expected.

"Good answer," she replied. "I see you're a quick study. However you still get
the 5 strokes regardless. And by the way, I don't like the name, Chris. It
sounds like it's for a wimp. From now on you're Jeff."

*******

Five strokes with that whip were agonizing. And my tormentor spread them out
all across the bare parts of my helpless body. Three more over my shoulders
and back and the final two across my legs, so that I had welts everywhere.
Afterwards she sat on the bed beside me, spread some kind of cream on my
wounds, and spoke gently and soothingly while she did it.

Then, standing, she began to untie my feet.

"Jeff," she said. "I'm also going to release your arms, and you'll go to the
washroom through that door. I expect you must have to use the facilities by
now. But don't get the idea that you're free. You are still under my
governance and will come back out immediately for more training. Is that
clear?"

********

Once all my limbs were released, I headed straight way into the washroom. I
was pretty desperate and by then my needs were more important than thinking
about escape.

"And wash your hands." That from my antagonist as I closed the door of the
washroom.

Once I'd finished, there wasn't much sense in tarrying in the small bathroom
since the only exit was through the bedroom being patrolled by Gabriella.
However I did delay a few minutes to plan my moves and to get up my nerve. Now
that my limbs were free, I should be able to escape from one woman. The
difficulty might be getting out of the house before I could be overpowered by
several of them like the last time.

When I emerged, Gabriella was standing, positioned between me and the exit
door. It was the first time that I had a really good view of her, and it was
more than a little intimidating. As I stated before, her face was not stunning
but the overall effect was. About my height of 5' 10", she looked strong and
solid, with broad shoulders, a flat stomach and good definition in her arm and
shoulder muscles as she moved. And that leather bodice and skirt, all black,
lent her the authority and potency of the dominatrix. I lost confidence that I
could get around her, and realized that she would be no easy opponent in a
fight.

Then I noticed that she had put on gloves - the kind that are used in those
ultimate fighting matches, with hard leather across the knuckles and fingers
free to grip. Apparently the idea of a fair fight wasn't part of her agenda. I
moved to the side to get around her, but as I expected, she stepped back into
my path. Since she was closer to the door, she had only to move one foot
sideways for every two that I took in order to block my escape path. However
there was little space to manoeuver in any case. The bed took up most of in
the area of the small room. Then her hands came up in a typical boxer's pose.

"I won't fight a woman" I stammered, trying hard to sound authoritative.

"That's ever so chivalrous of you, Jeff." she sneered. "But I can take care of
myself. And if you won't fight, I'll simply beat you black and blue."

Then she took a step towards me, and I instinctively raised my hands in
self-defense. She made a couple light jabs with her left hand, with no
intention of making contact. Then a serious right followed that I took on the
left forearm. The hard leather of her gloves stung like hell.

Angered, I forgot gallantry and took a swing at her. However I was no boxer,
and her bobbing head made it a difficult target. I missed by several inches,
and was off balance as her left arm drove an uppercut into my ribs. It wasn't
a Mohammad Ali punch, but was pretty impressive for a girl, and the blow hurt.
That gained my respect and I became a lot more careful. We partially circled
each other, arms raised, each looking for an opening, my opponent always
managing to keep herself between me and the door.

It didn't take long to establish who was the boxer. I might have been
stronger, but Gabriella was quick and had technique. Her left jab came at me
in a steady staccato, either numbing my forearm if I blocked it or stinging my
nose and face the couple of times I didn't. I had to keep my guard high in
response, and that left my ribs and stomach vulnerable to her strong right.
After a few shots there, the skin of my abdomen was red and raw. Oh I got in a
few punches, but most of mine missed or where blocked. Twice I made good
contact in her abdomen and chest area. However I quickly discovered that the
leather bodice not only protected her there, but was also murder on my bare
knuckles. So with that avenue of attack denied me, my opposition had less body
to protect.

Gabriella wasn't a superwoman, but her quickness gave her an edge. As a
reasonably strong and athletic male, I found it frustrating not to be able to
connect solidly with this elusive opponent. And humiliating also, since it was
a female that was whipping my ass. Her punches didn't do a lot of damage
individually, but they came in flurries and they stung, infuriatingly so. My
arms began to get heavy as I tired, and Gabriella's cool jabs grew steadily
harder as it became less necessary to guard herself against her emasculated
foe. Meanwhile my swings were becoming wilder and more ineffective, and
defending more difficult. Gabriella seemed to sense my fatigue and now began
to drive me backwards, until I was up against a wall. The wall limited my
manoeuverability, and I was now totally on the defensive. I could block shots
to my head, or protect my torso, but with no offence, I couldn't do both. It
was a frightening experience because I could see that it was only a matter of
time before those hard mitts, driven by muscular female arms, would breech my
meager defenses and start making solid contact with my nose and face.
Gabriella would have been formidable enough without the added weaponry of
those 'almost-brass' knuckles, but with those she could break bones. I knew I
had to do something or I would be killed.

I reacted rather than thought. I could envision myself with broken nose and
teeth. There was one way to avoid that fate and that way was to take her to
the ground and out-wrestle her. With absolutely no plan for afterwards, I dove
for her legs.

Whether she was expecting my move, or just plain lucky, her knee exploded into
the side of my head, and I went down. As I lay on my back, stunned, she was on
me like a tigress. Straddling my body, she seized both wrists and pinned them
to the floor. Without releasing her grip, she raised herself a few inches
putting her weight on one leg and drove the knee of the other hard into my
biceps. I screamed with pain and felt numbness overtake the entire arm. Then I
watched in horror as she prepared to repeat the procedure on my other arm. I
tried to break her grip on my wrist, but she had the advantage of gravity and
was too strong. The knee crashing down onto my defenseless flesh was
sickening, and I heard myself scream a second time. The punishment had been
sudden and devastating, and pretty well ended any fight I had left. My arms
would be black, blue and a sickly yellow color for weeks afterwards and I
probably had lost 50% of the strength in their muscles.

As I lay there vanquished and in pain, Gabriella moved further up my helpless
form and placed her knees on my wounded biceps. The pressure only added to my
discomfort and I heard an involuntary and weak "please" from my lips.

Whap!

My head snapped to the side as the gloved hand of my tormentor took me across
the face. The only mercy I was shown was that she used her open hand and not
the leather on the knuckles. Otherwise I would have been sporting more than a
red face and a headache.

Whap! Whap! Whap!

Three times again she slapped me hard, sending my battered head back and forth
as she used one hand after the other.

Whap! Whap! Whap! My abuser seemed to favor groups of three. I'd heard the
term 'slapped silly', and could now appreciate the meaning. My head swam and
my vision was a blur. I scarcely felt the blows any more, but I knew that I
was being beaten badly and could only look forward to the relief of
unconsciousness.

Through my fogged brain, I heard my adversary and realized that she had
stopped hitting me. She still had to repeat herself twice before I finally
understood her words.

"Had enough? Ready to do what I say?" Unbelievably she was gasping out her
words, breathing hard with the effort of pounding my brain to mush.

"Yes" I said weakly. I had little choice.

********

"Get up." was her first order. She had left me lying there on the floor and
visited the washroom - no thought to my attempting flight in her absence. Now
she was sitting on the one chair in the room, coolly eyeing the prostrate form
of her recent conquest.

I rolled over and got onto my knees, but was having trouble getting further.
Gabriella left her chair, took my arm, and gave me the assistance necessary to
get to my feet. Then she sat back down and watched as I slowly recovered
equilibrium and my legs lost their wobble. She had that pleased look on her
face of someone who had just picked the winning horse at Pimlico.

"Take off your boxers, Jeff."

That was unexpected and shocked me. It was just too personal and too sexual. I
hesitated. The look that came over Gabriella's face was pure rage, and she
terrified me by slowly rising from the chair.

"OK! OK!" I pleaded. The humiliation of being naked before a female was a much
preferable horror than facing those fists again. I lowered my shorts, and
removed them, but turned to the side so that my privates were less visible to
her prying eyes.

"Face me Jeff." And this time I complied immediately. But I could not look at
her and lowered my eyes. Then I felt myself begin to stiffen below, and tried
hard to deflect my thoughts from my disgrace so that the erection would stop.
However I was helpless against nature, and soon my staff was standing tall. I
tried to cover my embarrassment by joining my hands together in front, but
that likely only emphasized my plight.

"Hands to your sides. That's a good boy. You don't have anything I haven't
seen, Jeff. Now, come over here to me. That's right. Now lean over my knees.
Not like that. Move up so your stomach is on my far leg."

This was unbelievably embarrassing to me. However I didn't dare disobey. I
still had my erection as I bent over, my naked rear exposed, to place myself
across her knees. As soon as I did, she closed her legs on my aroused penis,
and began rubbing them against it. The pleasure was immediate and unexpected
and I heard myself gasp at the contact.

Suddenly she reached across my body, seized my right wrist and bent the arm
around and behind my back. I was no longer resisting anything she did. Her
right leg released my manhood and encircled my left leg, so that I was held
tight. Realizing that I would be spanked, I finally began to struggle, but she
had me in a nasty hold and was just too strong, easily controlling me as I
flailed about.

"You're young, Jeff, so we're going to practice sexual control. It will be
valuable for what Mrs Brown has in store for you later. You're not to come, do
you hear? If you do, and all over my leg, Jeff, I won't be at all happy and
will wail your backside so hard you won't sit for a month. Clear, Jeff?"

Then instead of the pain I'd expected, my captor began lightly running her
finger tips over my bare butt. The sensation was immediately unbearable, a
combination of sexual pleasure and tickling, and I squirmed helplessly. I
might have been all right had my erection not been jammed tight against her
leg. I fought mentally but the feelings in my nether regions were just too
great. I couldn't stop wriggling under the light touching of her fingers, and
I came explosively in mere seconds.

"You bastard." she said. But I had the feeling that she was more than a little
pleased at my weakness.

Whap! Whap! - as her hand struck my buttocks as hard as she could hit. I began
struggling valiantly now to get free, but she shoved my arm hard up past my
shoulder blade, and I settled down to keep her from dislocating the shoulder.

She must have hit me 20 or 25 times before my pleading or the weariness in her
arm caused her to stop. Then she unceremoniously dumped me onto the floor,
where I lay cringing at her feet.

"Up onto the bed, and be quick. I'm going to clean up in the washroom, and
you'd better be right there when I get out. Understood"

********

When she emerged from the washroom about 5 minutes later, I was lying on the
bed, too frightened of my tormentor to contemplate disobedience, and my
reddened bottom tender with the contact of the sheets.

"Turn your head away. You don't look when a lady takes off her clothes." Then,
with my eyes diverted, I could hear the rustle of cloth and leather, but dared
not look. And when she suddenly climbed onto the bed and swung a leg over me,
she was as naked as I was.

Straddling my body, and sitting heavily on my stomach, she authoritatively
captured my wrists and gazed down on her conquest. She leaned forward, her
naked breasts solid and full above me, dominating my world, and a potent
symbol of female superiority. The nipples were large and pink and erect with
arousal, like rubber tire studs or small missiles homing their target.

"You do realize that Mrs Brown operates a brothel" she said, shocking me back
from my sexual fantasies. "You are to become a sexual worker, pleasuring
women, and I will be around to make sure you do it well. You will cooperate
fully and be rewarded with a share in the profits. Mrs Brown is a fair person,
and you will become part of her family here. However if you don't do as you're
told - well let's just say, it wouldn't be healthy for you. But enough of this
unpleasant talk."

Then she tried to kiss me, and when I turned my head away, I was rewarded with
a hard slap across the face. However she didn't attempt to kiss me again, but
rather reached around for my erection and steered it between her legs. A few
wiggles of her hips and I could feel a pleasant moist warmth envelop the head.
Then my wrist was recaptured, and I watched in awe, as Gabriella, with eyes
tight shut and head thrown back, pressed her sex onto mine, slowly engulfing
my organ like a snake swallowing a rat. I gasped at the sudden rush of
pleasure as my staff descended deeper and deeper into her musky prison. Her
sex gripped me like the oiled fist of a wrestler, vaginal muscles massaging
and fondling their now willing captive.

However my pleasure was short lived. Passivity was not the style of my rapist.
Eyes closed, mouth agape, breath coming in gasps, bosom heaving, hips
grinding, she rode me mercilessly, showing little concern for the safety of my
weak member. One's sexual pleasure is limited when one's manhood is being
bent, twisted and generally mauled by one's partner. Oh I came alright, but my
enjoyment was tempered by a sore aching penis, and concern over possible
damage to my sexual organs.

On the other hand, Gabriella was obviously in another world. I came much
faster than she did, and was a fascinated observer of my first female orgasm,
as she writhed sensually above me before bringing herself to a massive and
apparently most satisfying climax.

Afterwards, she lay heavily on my body for a good five minutes, her nipples so
erect I could feel them against my chest, before she finally stirred. She
smiled languidly down upon her recent conquest, then bent forward to brush her
lips against mine, before climbing off and heading for the washroom.

As for me, my first sexual experience (and first rape), had not been all I
might have liked. I was mostly relieved that my sexual trysts were finally
over. However I would soon find that I was quite mistaken in that thought.

********

POSTSCRIPT

I really didn't mind the name 'Chris'. In fact I thought it suited my subject
quite well - just a tad effeminate, but so was the boy with his youthfulness
and innocence. Of course , that was exactly what I liked in this male, the
ability to control and to dominate. And all the while I'd been abusing him,
I'd been in a perpetual state of arousal, to the extent that at times my
nipples ached with desire. There was really no need to rape him. I'd broken
him completely via the beatings, but I'd needed the relief badly and he was
there for the taking and too delectable to resist. So I'd taken him and
experienced one of the most amazing climaxes of my life. I also had no real
preference for the name'Jeff'. However stealing a subject's identity, even
something as minor as the theft of his name, aids in adjusting the mental set
necessary for full compliance.

After my initial rape of this boy, I'd ordered him face down on the bed and
tied his wrists to the bedpost. Then, out of his sight, I'd strapped on the
dildo from my little case, and applied lubricant.

"Up on your knees." I'd ordered, as I climbed on the bed behind him. He had no
idea what was coming. I doubt he had ever heard of a dildo or thought of the
possibility of anal rape. With my hands on his hips, I aimed my weapon at the
target, and then trust forward quickly before he could sense my purpose. The
dildo penetrated a full inch before his sphincter muscles clamped down in
reaction. But it was no too late. His defenses were breached and he could no
longer prevent his violation. A very audible intake of breath escaped my
victim at the shock of the unexpected intrusion. At this point, I stopped. My
hands left his hips, found his penis, and began stroking it back to stiffness.
And holding him with this grip I could also keep him from pulling forward and
dislodging the dildo.

"Relax, Jeff." I said as I slowly brought his manhood back to full arousal.
He'd already ejaculated twice in the past half hour, and further action had to
be manually encouraged. "Relax and I promise I won't hurt you. But this is a
necessary part of your training [it wasn't - rather it was purely for my own
enjoyment]. Some of Mrs Brown's clients might want this service and I have to
make sure you aren't shocked the first time it happens. I'll be very gentle."

With light thrusts of my hips I gradually worked the thing deeper into his
body. My hands now stroked a long hard swollen penis, and I could sense the
increasing arousal of the boy beneath me. His breathing quickened and his hips
began a slow, almost undetectable motion in response to my thrusts. He was far
from immune to the sensations I was forcing on his young body. I worked the
dildo gently in and out, maximizing the contact with his swollen and sensitive
prostate until he was squirming deliciously beneath me and a sudden massive
enlargement of his penis gave notice of an imminent ejaculation. That's when I
ceased all motion and squeezed the base of his penis to halt the process and
bring his sexual stimulation under control. Then as soon as I felt his staff
losing stiffness, I repeated the process, bringing him to the brink and then
hauling him back.

I lost count, but probably brought him close to ejaculation 5 times without
giving him satisfaction. It was erotic to have this young man so completely
under my dominance. Sodomizing him was the sexiest thing I'd ever done, and
far better than sex by itself.

"Please, please." I heard him whimper beneath me. I knew what he wanted and
needed, but he couldn't bring himself to ask directly.

"What's that? I don't understand what you want." I lied. It was cruel to make
him beg, but I couldn't stop myself. It was just so titillating to dominate
this hapless young creature in this manner.

"Please make me come. I can't stand it." It was said so quietly I could barely
hear, but the dejection in his voice was clear as he humbled himself. He was
absolutely delightful in his shyness and in his need.

"So perhaps you do fancy it this way after all. Perhaps you like being my
bitch and enjoy being raped by a female." His capitulation complete, I moved
to deliver his release, driving the dildo slowly back and forth, deep into his
body up to the hilt and then nearly all the way back out, then repeating the
process . By now his anus was fully expanded and easily accommodated the
foreign instrument. As his body writhed beneath me, my hands surrounded his
staff, stoking and caressing and rapidly bringing him to (I'm sure) the best
climax of his young life.

Then I got dressed, untied his wrists, and left my young victim to contemplate
his future. But not before attaching an ankle cuff to his leg and chaining him
to the bed post with enough length so that he could reach the toilet and
shower, but could only take a step or two out into the hall. Mrs Brown and her
girls would be excited over their new visitor and take excellent care of such
a valuable commodity..

********

There is always a need for young boys like Chris/Jeff in the sex trade. Many
women have a cougar mentality without the looks to pull it off, so seek
satisfaction with young males in brothels. And of course there is an even
larger market with gay men. Nobody is surprised to learn of young women being
forced into the sex trade against their wills, but many would be shocked at
the success I've had with some of their male counterparts.

With all my conquests, I explain, early in their training session, exactly
what is expected of them. Then I like to give these young men a full week to
contemplate and hopefully to accept their future before forcing them to turn
that first trick. The day of their initiation, I pay a visit for a prior pep
talk and a little intimidation. Then Mrs Brown starts them with some of her
more attractive girls. Only weeks later are they introduced to clients who are
not so desirable or perhaps older. And they are protected from male customers
for months until they are fully acclimatized.

But the week after Jeff's training took place, was not what I expected at all.
I just couldn't stop thinking about him, and whenever I remembered his beating
and rape, my nipples would swell deliciously. I was 38 years old, and far from
inexperienced, and generally took men as I found them. I'd never been in love,
but now suddenly found myself with a crush on an 18 year old. And he was
taking more and more possession of my mind and of my fantasies. He was not the
most handsome of males, and he didn't have the best body. But he had class,
and that was surprising with his unsettled upbringing. I'd sensed that from
the moment I'd first laid eyes on him. And he was awfully cute in his boyish
way. Perhaps he brought a little of the mother out in me, though I could think
of better things to do with him than mothering.

By week's end, I had phoned Mrs Brown, offered her $5000, and allowed myself
to be talked up to $10 000. Of course he was worth much more than that, but
Mrs Brown realized she would have need of my services again in the future.

When I arrived at the Boarding house, Jeff was lying on the bed on his back
with wrists cuffed to the headboard. Those had been my instructions. I'd
dressed in my sexiest dominatrix garb. On pins and needles all that day, I'd
been eager and excited to see him once again.

I immediately straddled his body and settled my butt onto his stomach. The
sudden rush of warmth between my legs was nirvana. I wanted to devour this
young man, but settled on delaying that pleasure for a different time and a
different locale. Instead I asked him how his week had gone, how he'd been
treated and generally chatted inanely over details that I really cared little
about. But I loved it. I loved how shy he was and how intimidated, and how he
couldn't meet my gaze. Finally I got to my real purpose.

"Jeff, there's been a change in plans for you. You are to come and live with
me at my establishment. Do you think you might like that?"

"Maybe." he replied, the hesitation of the unknown in his voice.

I took that as a positive. "That's good, Jeff, because it has been decided.
But you will have to travel across the city, and I don't think I can trust you
to cooperate yet."

Then I reached down and unzipped the little pouch on my belt, and removed the
cloth. Immediately the sharp chemical smell filled the air about us. He knew
what I was about to do, and he fought hard to prevent it, thrashing about as
best he could with the constraints on his wrists and my bulk on his stomach.
However I had no trouble keeping the cloth pressed tightly to his face, and
eventually he had to breathe. Within seconds, he ceased his flailing about and
his eyes rolled back in his head. I held the cloth to his face for only a
couple more seconds, not wanting him to wake during his transport, but not
wishing to harm him either. He had not been fed for 24 hours in anticipation
of the move, and so I didn't fear him being sick while he was unconscious.

Then I just sat back and watched him peacefully sleeping for about 5 minutes.
I could scarcely wait to get him home and secured. No one other than myself
would ever touch this boy again. My future would be so much brighter when
centered about this young man. And I would make him happy as well. Oh there
would be some pain for him, and a whole lot of control; because I had lied
earlier about not being sadistic. However the pleasures he'd receive would far
outweigh any pain.

Before leaving my charge, and sending for the porters, I bent down and kissed
him on the lips. It was hard to believe that another human could affect me
this way. And he was now all mine.