tagBDSMStories of Women in Control Ch. 02

Stories of Women in Control Ch. 02

byFrotter©

We were both still sleeping on the screened porch in the backyard when I awoke the next day to hear her mom in the kitchen. The kitchen had a back door that led directly to that porch, and that door was open. Her mom was having breakfast and told us she was leaving for the day. My cock was hard thinking about the night before, but I still couldn't believe it when Mary Ellen's hand slid under my the sleeping bag and started to caress my cock. "No," I whispered, as I pushed her hand away. I was terrified her mom would catch us. I was inexperienced and had no idea about the things I had yet to learn: things that Mary Ellen would be the first to teach me, things that would forever alter and pervert my sexual desires.

When her mom left, Mary Ellen went to take a bath, and I took my shower. These were taken separately, and we wound up back in the kitchen eating toast and talking. "Come into the basement, I want to show you something," she said. So I followed her downstairs and she started taking out different things to show me. There were photos of her husband (who had died) and pictures of old friends. She found beads and gave them to me — it was the seventies, I was a hippie, and love beads were in. Then she opened a small chest and took out a see-through teddy, which she held up.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, and looked at her, my mouth going dry as the thought of her in it turned me on. "Will you put it on?" I asked, thinking that she was going to let me fuck her.

"Why don't you put it on?" she suggested, but I declined, and we soon went back upstairs. I still didn't understood what was going on. I had enjoyed last night's blow job and was looking forward to doing more with her, but I didn't know where this was going because I had no experience and therefore couldn't read the signals she was sending.

We returned upstairs to the kitchen. "Wait here, I have some reefer," she said, using a phrase that was decades behind the times. She went to get it, and came back and rolled a joint. "I don't want to smell up the house, let's go outside," she said, so we stepped onto the enclosed porch where we had spent the night. She sat on a metal lawn chair, and I walked over and stood by her, smoking the joint. We were just hanging out, smoking and talking.

But I was excited because she'd made me start thinking of sex in the basement, and being back on the porch reminded me of what happened the night before. She was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. I was standing near her, wearing jeans. She reached over and massaged the outline of my cock with her hand. She slipped the button on my jeans open and unzipped them, squeezing my cock through the underwear.

I started to feel her breast. But she distracted my attention from that by saying "Let me see what you got" and having me remove my pants and underwear. She put her hand on my cock. She gently squeezed it, making it throb, and she kept on squeezing, increasing the pressure, making it hard. I looked down and licked my lips, staring in anticipation at the outline of her breast in her t-shirt and at her legs. She was wearing cut-off shorts that showed quiet a bit of her nice ass.

I again tried to feel her tits through her t-shirt, but she pushed my hands away, continuing to play with my cock, while saying, "No, I don't want you to do anything to me, but you can do this" she said as she moved her hand slowly back and forth over my cock, jerking it off a bit before she stopped. I was confused. I thought masturbation was for when you were alone, I'd never thought of masturbating in front of a women. I didn't want to stroke myself, it was embarrassing.

When she took her hand off and looked on, I didn't know how to respond. At first I just stood there, with my hard cock sticking out. I wanted sex. I was very horny. She knew this and used it to her advantage.

"Go on, you can do it" she urged, as she looked on and sat in the chair. She crossed her legs, letting me view her ass, as she moved her hand up and down her leg simulating the stroking of a cock. "Here, lie on the floor," she said, encouraging me, as she indicated where I should lie. "I'll let you look at me, I'll show you something you'll like," she said, as she placed her hand on my arm and guided me in the direction of the floor.

"Lie down and you can see my pussy," she smiled. She leaned back in the chair and spread her thighs. She didn't remove her shorts, she just unzipped them, and folded her pants open so I could see. She was not wearing underwear and had a nice bush of blond hair, she ran her fingers through her bush, spreading her legs and letting me look while repeating "Just lie on the floor."

I did.

"Go on, you can do it," she said, but I was still reluctant to jerk off in front of her. "Make yourself feel good, it's ok," she reassured me as she ran her fingers through her bush and made an open fist with her other hand that she moved up and down to encourage me.

Her legs were spread, exposing her bush. I could see her fingers as she teasingly ran them through her pubic hair, touching her pussy, although she was not actually fingering herself. This was the first time I'd ever seen a women completely nude outside of pictures in magazines. My eyes drifted back and forth, from her beautiful bush to her legs and ass. She was in her forties, and her upper thighs and ass had cellulite. Though many consider it unattractive, this was my first sexual experience. And as a result, to this day I still get aroused when I see cellulite on a woman's ass and upper thighs.

I could no longer resist. I began to stroke, using the motion of her open fist to guide my speed. Slowly at first like her open fist, but eventually faster as I lost control and looked into her eyes and right in her face as she watched me.

Once I started jerking off she said very little, watching in silence, occasionally asking if it felt good, or giving me verbal assistance: "That's it, up and down."

"Stroke it!" Mary Ellen ordered.

"Up and down, up and down!"

My whole body felt hot as I continued to jerk off for Mary Ellen.

"Stroke it!" "Up and down, up and down!

I felt the cum start to move up my cock. Mary Ellen somehow knew I was getting ready to cum. She understood what I needed, and encouraged me "Faster, "Faster," Snap.

When I started to go faster, she said, "That's it, oh, baby, make it squirt for me. I want to see that hot cum."

And the cum started pouring from my cock. Usually the cum stops after three or four spurts, but this time the second spurt produced almost as much cum as the first, and I had to continue jerking my at least five spurts.

I stayed at their house for another two weeks, jerking off for her several times a day. I was younger then and could do it often and be hard again almost right away. She liked that and showed her appreciation by saying things to help me. She had me trained so that all she had to do was give me a look, and I'd take my place, lying on the floor and beginning to jerk off for her.

Sometimes, I'd walk into the living room when she was sitting, and I'd take my cock out and start jerking off, standing in front of her. She would always stop reading or watching TV to look and help me. Sometimes she would assist me verbally, asking ask me detailed questions about what I had done, how often I masturbated, and things like that. Sometimes she'd encourage me by using her hands to stroke her arms or legs, or use other body language, like her tongue, an open fist, or sucking on fingers to tease me and turn me on. Sometimes she'd talk me through it. Occasionally, she would even touch me and sometimes she'd let me feel her, or show me her breast or pussy while I stroked my cock. Sometimes she'd talk dirty, but other times she'd sit silently, teasing me by exposing her pussy or leaning forward so I could see her breast from the top of her blouse.

She was over two and a half decades older then I was and had executed a plan and followed through with it: she had reduced me to a pathetic boy who followed her around and jerked off at her will. She never explained what we were doing. Never used words like "domination" or "submission."

It would be over ten years before I began to understand the power games she used to manipulate me into humiliating myself by masturbating for her entertainment. And more years would pass before I understood that there was little consent involved, that she had essentially me "forced" me to submit to her kinky desires by teasing me and using my desire for sex to gain power. Even years after later I failed to recognize that it for what it was. I was naive, I thought it just happened.

It wasn't until I spoke to a woman I met on the Internet who liked to watch and supervise male masturbators that I understood. When I shared the story with her as I jerked off, after hearing it she explained, and only then did I understand.

"She masturbated too" explained Ruth.

"No, she didn't" I insisted.

"I'll bet she went to the bathroom afterwards" she replied, and I remembered that most of the time, after I finished she'd make an excuse to go off for ten or so minutes saying she was going to the bathroom, or to get reefer, get something from her room.

"But that makes no sense," I said, "because half the time she was sitting there with her pussy exposed, so if she wanted to masturbate, she would have done it right there."

"No," Ruth explained, "if she let you see that, she'd lose the power to control you. She took advantage of you. The age difference was too far apart It was sexual abuse: she knew she could arouse you to a point where you'd have no choice but to masturbate, and she made you do it even though she knew that at first you didn't want to. She was a voyeur and made you submit to her to fulfill that need. She was your first mistress," Ruth explained, and finally, almost two decades later, I understood what had happened.

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