Aunt Laura Ch. 04byLoansum©
I find it so hard to describe how completely overcome I am with longing for my nephew, Paul. It started many years ago when he was just a teenager and has lasted for so many years. The longing is not just for sex. It goes far beyond that. It is my craving for his dominance over me and the way he uses me. He makes me feel owned; like his property. It is a feeling that I crave and am powerless to fight.
He has this habit of calling me at work during the day and saying the filthiest and most degrading things to me. He knows that when he humiliates me like this, it drives me crazy with sexual need and converts me instantly into his submissive slut. He makes me confess that I am his whore and how much I need him to use me. His voice is like a drug to me. I cannot help myself. I sit in my hospital pharmacy office and he makes me whisper my darkest confessions to him. I respond by saying things that I have never said to anyone. When he talks like this I can feel my heart pounding out of my body and my knees go weak. I always soak my panties during these calls. He forces me to tell him I am his whore and fuckslut. I say it because I need to say it. I need the humiliation and the nastiness of those calls. Afterwards I usually need to go to the ladies room to relieve the tension. It never takes very long. He caught on to this tendency of mine and most times he will forbid me to touch myself at all. It drives me wild when he does this, but he will never relent. I beg him to please allow me to relieve my tension but he never does. To make me wait even longer, he often avoids me for a few days after the calls. This is so difficult for me being left in such a state of arousal for so long.
We developed our relationship slowly. He began to show real interest in my body which I felt was natural for a teenage boy with raging hormones. But he also developed a strength and power in his demands that sparked something deeper within me. I had no idea how much I needed to be told what to do. I admit that it always excited me to be dominated but I never came to grips with the extent of my need until Paul came into my life in this new role. When he first began to ask me to show him my breasts or to play with myself in front of him, I was powerless to resist his demands. I would hear myself telling him that he could ask me to do anything and that I would do it for him. It is funny, but he went at such a slow pace at first that I feared he would never go further. The more he asked of me, the more submissive to him I became. He seemed to have this sense of what I needed. He led me down the road to total submission as if he knew the path by heart. He was just a boy then and now he is grown and married. Well, he is now separated and getting divorced very soon.
We all lived in my brother's house (his father). I came up from Texas when my husband died suddenly. My brother and sister-in-law took me in and gave me a large bedroom beside Paul's room in their big home. Each night, Paul would come to my room and kiss me goodnight while his parents were downstairs watching television. It was an innocent ritual of a nephew saying goodnight to his aunt. I have always worn silk nightgowns with thin spaghetti straps. I like the feel of the silk material on my skin. They are low cut and it didn't take me long to notice that his eyes were actively examining my full breasts as he stood above me before saying goodnight. I never thought badly of him for his attention and would make sure that I was leaning a bit forward so he could get a good look at my big breasts. It seemed so natural and intimate to allow him to see me like that. Most times my nipples would harden the moment he entered the room and were easily seen by him through the thin silk material. I liked him looking at me and I guess that's why I asked that first, fateful question way back then. I asked him why he was looking at down at my breasts. It was his response, I believe, that set all this in motion. I guess I expected him to respond with shyness and embarrassment; but he didn't. He was truthful and told me that he never saw a woman's breasts before and liked looking at mine. I asked him to go close the door and come back.
That night changed everything. I took my thin straps off my shoulders and dropped the top of the gown to my waist. I put his hands on me and told him to feel me and pinch and play with my full breasts and nipples. He took his time and the feel of his hands on me drove me insane with desire. That's when I told him that he could ask me anything and I would do it for him. I have no idea why I said that, but at that moment my body was on remote control and I wanted him to go further. I half expected that he would want to have sex right then and there. Frankly, I was so aroused that I would have let him take me right then on that first night. But Paul somehow knew he was in control now. He pulled out his hard cock and told me to jerk him off. He wasn't afraid or trembling or even tentative. He just told me to do it like I belonged to him. He said it like I had no choice and needed to obey him. He was right. I was hooked and eagerly complied. But the really surprising thing was that he also started to talk to me like I was his property. He asked me if I liked jerking him off and if I liked my nipples hurt. I confessed to him that I did and jerked his cock harder. He was very rough on my breasts and I loved it. With my other hand between my legs I was fingering myself. His cum blasted out of his young cock and splattered onto my face and ran down to my tits. The feeling amazed me and I needed to taste him. I leaned down and took his cock in my mouth and began to clean him off. My fingers triggered a huge climax that rocked my body. When I was done he stepped back, pulled up his pants and left. I was stunned by what had happened and even more surprised that he left. But he was done with me for that night. I was his from that moment on.
For so long I had suppressed and run from my needs. After my husband's death, I knew I could never have a normal relationship with a man again. I did not want to repeat the abusive relationship I experienced with him. I had a bad marriage which left with me as a young widow with needs and desires yet unfulfilled. Marriage was an experience I would never endure again. I just didn't want the pain of the husband-wife dynamic. I didn't know why I felt this way until that night. All my life I had submissive feelings trapped inside me. Now I knew these feelings could never be left to fester again. Now they were out and I knew that I would never be the same. I also got a glimpse of a man who seemed to understand my needs and instinctively gave me what I craved. And this man was my young nephew.
Surprisingly, I never felt bad about this relationship with Paul. It seemed so natural for both of us. I knew he was also getting what he needed and growing into his dominant role and manhood. I was getting to live out my darkest inner desires. I loved the way he developed so naturally into his dominance and with such creativity. It was obvious to me that he was a born Dom. I also saw that the stronger he became, the more submissive I became. The exchange of control was so balanced and so progressive that it happened with an amazing synergy. He was exactly what I needed and we approached our relationship with excitement and enthusiasm. He liked me in heels and stockings and I always was dressed that way for him even if I was in bed at night waiting for him to come to my room.
The turning point for us was the week we spent together while my brother and sister-in-law were away at a convention trip in Chicago. Paul took this opportunity to exert almost total control over me and I spent the week in a constant state of arousal. Each evening he was creative and forceful and he demanded things of me that I never imagined. But I eagerly embraced them with enthusiasm. I also knew that by the time the week ended that I had to move out and get my own apartment. If I didn't move out I knew we would almost certainly be discovered. I needed him too much. I needed him more than I could imagine.
I didn't move very far away. I was four blocks away in a nice 4th floor apartment on Ocean Avenue. The building had a door buzzer/intercom system and it was right on Paul's way home each day. It was his senior year and he would stop by most days. He would use his key to let himself in. He would be waiting for me when I got in from work. He was the only family member with a key so I knew that his mother or father would never just walk up and knock on my door when he was there. They had to hit the buzzer from street level and be buzzed in.
I wondered many times how I got to this place with this ongoing affair. If I were to be truthful, I would have to admit that I had planned this for sometime. Maybe not on a fully conscience level, but I knew what I wanted and what I was doing. Paul fit all my criteria for a sexual partner. He had no idea about his assertive, dominant personality, but it was evident to me for several years, watching him grow, that he was a take charge person. For Paul, it was just natural and I think that drew me to him. As he developed and grew into a young man, he was athletic and sturdy. I saw that he was always aware of the women in any room and I could see his eyes on me and others many times. He was growing into his sexuality but he was not ashamed of his feelings and didn't hide his interest in women. It was obvious that he would dominate any relationship with a woman and I craved that dominance.
For me, there was always something missing with my relationships with men. Even with my husband, John, it was as if I was some sort of china doll that needed to be treated in a very ladylike way. Yes, he was verbally abusive, but he wasn't dominant. He was whiny and complaining, and not strong and forceful. Inside I knew I didn't want gentle treatment. I wanted a man who was verbally, physically and sexually forceful. I needed to be told what to do and to be made to do what I was told. It was the way I was wired and when I saw the control that Paul exerted over the people around him, I saw an opportunity to allow myself to be used by him. He was always a very confident person and never seemed to get flustered or intimidated in any situation. I saw his strength and craved it. So I had set the stage and he took over so naturally that I wondered if it was my idea at all. Had he planned to take me all along? Was this his idea or mine? Or was it just something that happened on its own?
Paul called to tell me that he was separated and getting divorced. I asked him if he wanted to come over for dinner to talk about it. He agreed and I was expecting him as I prepared a nice dinner with some red wine. He worked on Wall Street and was a short subway ride away from my apartment. It had been some time since we were intimate but I was always in his life and we had an unspoken bond that transcended our roles as aunt and nephew. We had an intimacy and knowledge of each other that was still present after these intervening years. I was always at family get-togethers and was an attentive aunt to his children. I was looking forward to seeing him and could feel my body reacting even before he arrived. At 7:30 I heard his key in the lock. Even after all this time, it was out of character for him to call up on the intercom to be buzzed in. I had dressed the way he always demanded and was sitting on the sofa in a short black dress with nylons and heels. My legs were crossed and I made sure that a large expanse of thigh was on display for him. The top was cut to show off the swell of my breasts and I had chosen this dress because I wanted to look good for him. I wanted to look like I was available to him. He walked in wearing a business suit and I could tell from his expression that he had more in mind than dinner tonight. He took off his jacket and loosened his tie.
"I am so glad you could come visit me tonight," I said with a smile as I sat there waiting for him to respond.
"I have a question for you, Laura," he said as he stood several feet away from me.
"Yes," I replied with a question in my voice. I could feel the tension in my chest and I knew this was a question that would take this evening in one direction or another.
"Are you still my whore," he asked with those eyes penetrating me and a firmness in his tone that demanded a response. I was instantly wet.
"With your separation, I don't think it would be a good idea....," I began to say to him when he cut me off abruptly.
"I asked you a question and I want a direct answer; now," he barked out at me.
"Yes, I am," I replied meekly.
"You are what," he asked.
"I am your whore, Paul," I responded in a soft, trembling voice.
"That's better, Laura, because I need to you to be my whore tonight" he said.
"Yes, Sir," I replied as I sat there and awaited his next orders.
"Why did you dress this way tonight, slut," he demanded.
"I wanted to dress the way you always told me to dress. I know you like the heels and stockings and the low cut neckline," I told him truthfully.
"Do you want me to use you," he asked.
"Yes, I want you to use me," I confessed.
"Spread your legs and put a finger inside your panties and tell me if you are wet," he demanded. Uncrossing my legs, I spread them and dropped a hand to my silk panties. A finger went down and felt the slickness between my moist pussy lips.
"Yes, Sir, I am very wet," I told him as my finger continued to work inside my hot pussy.
"Take off your wet panties and throw them to me." He said. I did it and then sat down again and began to finger myself in front of him.
"Use two fingers and spread yourself wider," he instructed. He moved forward and reached behind me to unzip my dress and pull it down to my waist. His hands reached into my bra to pull my breasts out over the top. He took my nipples and pinched them and pulled on the sensitive nubs.
"Get up and take the dress off and give it to me," he said releasing my breasts from his rough grasp. I did as instructed and stepped out of the dress and handed it to him. This was a familiar and exciting ritual for me. He always made me undress in front of him and hand my clothing to him. He must have known how tremendously exciting and submissive this made me feel. I stood there in front of him with just my bra pulled down holding my exposed breasts, my black stiletto heels, stockings and a sexy lace garter belt.
"Turn around and bend over so I can see your ass," he demanded. I did so and leaned my body forward and touched the back of the couch with my hands. My ass was pointed out for him and I felt his hands on me. He had moved to the side of me and one hand reached under me to take a firm grip on my left breast. He then began to spank me.
The first few strokes were not hard but firm and loud as they struck my exposed flesh.
"Spread your legs wider for me," he told me and I pushed my legs further apart. He would hit me three or four times and then push his fingers into my soaking wetness and finger me for awhile. When he stopped, he would then slap under me and deliver hard smacks directly onto my aroused pussy.
"Get the flogger for me," he said as he stepped back from me. He reached out to grab my hair to pull me to a standing position. I immediately went to the bedroom closet and opened the box he had had given me a long time ago. I pulled out the flogger and came back to him. He took it from me and told me to stand facing him with my hands behind my head. Just as I complied, the first stroke across my breasts caught my left nipple and I cried out. Again he struck out at me and the next few blows were equally firm and directed at the nipples.
"Legs spread," he barked and I did so as he slapped the flogger upward, catching my pussy square and hitting my clit.
"Oh, God," I cried out.
"Do you want more, whore," he asked.
"Yes, please, I need more," I moaned to him as the flogger struck my pussy once again. After three or four more hits, my legs were trembling and my sexually excited whimpering was almost uncontrollable.
"Get your body over the dining table, whore," He told me and I walked or staggered to the table and laid my body down over the top. My hands reached out to take hold of the far edges. I felt the coolness of the wood on my warm stinging nipples. He was behind me and I felt his hard cock at my pussy lips.
"Ask me," he said and I immediately knew that he needed me to ask for it. He needed his whore to beg for his cock. I was more than willing. I needed him inside me. I was so aroused that I knew my orgasm was just moments away.
"Please fuck me. Please fuck your whore," I breathed out. He did not wait and forced his cock into me in one hard brutal thrust. He was buried inside me and I felt so full and so close to cumming. His hands took my hips and he began to pound himself into me in a relentless rhythm.
"Oh, please, oh please, oh please. Fuck me hard, please fuck me hard," I repeated to him as my orgasm overwhelmed me and came crashing through my body like an earthquake. I was shattered by the power of it and he continued to use me as the feeling steamrolled my senses. Then I felt him shudder and his climax was joining mine and he emptied his cum deep inside my throbbing cunt. It was a feeling that I wanted to continue forever. It was a moment that overcame me and shook me to the bone. He stayed in me for sometime until he finally pulled away and then reached out to pull me up. I turned around and he took me in his arms and we held each other tightly for a long time. Our bodies were pressed together and I loved the feel of him as he wrapped me into himself.
We had reconnected once more. It had been a long time since our last intimacy but tonight it was like it was yesterday. He needed me as he had always needed me in years gone by. And I was once again fulfilled and happy to be able to give myself and reveal my needs to him again. His power over me fulfilled me as no other person could ever do. That night he used me in every way possible and I never felt more of a woman than I did that night.