Gabriel's Story

As I drove panic spawned imaginings climbed over each other until my head was spinning and I couldn't see the road any longer. I called home and left a message that I was doing some sightseeing and wouldn't be home for two more days. I went to a hotel and spent that time sorting through what I'd learned and my feelings about it all.

Mr. Dietz had taught me to think first. He taught me to observe and be thorough. Cass had only seen a lie told to a child. What I saw and still see is thoughtful parents training me to be the best that I can be. A man who prepared me to protect myself and how to succeed at whatever I wanted. Nothing had changed about the home I remember growing up in. It was a place of safety. And a place filled with love where honesty was valued and lying was not tolerated.

Right off the bat I jumped into the shower when I got to my room. I just felt dirty. My mind still whirled around without focus. Mr. Dietz and mom have this pervy sex thing they do. No child wants to think about their parents having sex let alone how kinky they are. Ugh! They kept a secret from me. So what? How did I come about? What are their plans for me? Has it all really just been a big lie? I was spiraling. I turned the water up hotter. 'Focus,' Mr. Dietz used to say, 'on the goal.' That could also mean the core fact or task. He meant take all the mental distractions away. The better I do that the better I perform. That has a whole new meaning now. I focused on my shower. I concentrated on lathering and washing, scrubbing each part and every inch, searching all the places where dirt and filth can hide like between my toes and behind my ears. Where did you think I meant?

Stepping out I was still not yet centered so I threw on my sports bra and running shorts and headed to the hotel workout center. Pathetic! But they had a functioning elliptical so I used that. As I sweated, things finally started ordering themselves in my mind. On the face of it, it will seem strange to say with all that has already been revealed that growing up was as normal as anyone else's. I asked myself what is the salient fact in my parent's behavior? The answer is rules.

Despite the popular idea that rules are made to be broken that is in fact not what they are for. They serve two functions; one is how to do something, the other is how to fit in.

None of us would know how to even tie our laces if there had not been a step-by-step procedure explained to us. Instructions are rules. An extension of this function is by what standard is our performance judged. Now, I was on more familiar ground. I'm in pre-law and law is all about rules. If a motion is not filled out and submitted according to the rules set forth under law then it won't get heard.

The TV would have us all believe that conformity is a sin. But the opposite of conformity is chaos. Conformity is a unity of purpose and ideas expressed through the behavior of a group. Rules teach us how to conform or fit in. If an attorney fails to follow the rules of the courtroom she will be held In Contempt. Consequences.

In my human behavior class we learned that one of the goals of parents is to prepare children to take their place as productive members of the group. As such parents are motivated to mold both the thinking and the behavior of their child to be like them.

But you know all this. I just wanted to illustrate how I got my mind reordered after the shock. So Mr. Dietz established rules that both mom and I obeyed. They helped both of us to be the most productive that we each could be. I was shown how to fit in with the society at large and how to be successful, gracious, kind and humble. I learned how to talk to others and how to carry myself in public. The result is a well-spoken young woman with superior grades, a prosperous future and self-assurance. Like I said: well-adjusted.

I headed back to my room and the shower again this time to wash the sweat and stink off. With my equilibrium back I thought of other things as I stepped in. Mom has her nipples pierced. It should be indicative to the extent that this news had unsettled me that my first rational thoughts are about my mom's naked body. My body is clean and without adornments. I've never had an urge to mark it. Now my thought about mom isn't creepy incest thoughts. Shame on you if that is where your thoughts went. What I was thinking is that it wasn't her choice.

Every time mom and I wanted to deviate from our schedule when I was growing up she'd say, "Let me check with Mr. Dietz first," or, "Let me see if that is alright with Mr. Dietz." It wasn't, "Let me 'tell' Mr. Dietz." It was always a matter of asking for permission from him. So I was certain that those two gold bar adornments transiting her thick nipples weren't her idea. And I was also certain that they weren't just for appearances sake. Yeah, they made her nipples hard all the time and they looked good against her pink areolas, but I was sure that he had less benign uses for them than just the imprint on her blouse which made me wonder about my own nipples as I showered. I touched the ends and felt them spring up as I pushed down on them. The sensation I felt was rewarding. I looked at them critically. Mine are small and hard when excited; centered on tight dark chocolate circles. I wondered how my mom's feel to her as I pinched my own. I twisted one to see how it felt and the surge through my groin drove me to a knee. Just that much and I was already feeling the heat between my legs. No wonder my mom let him do that to her. I forced myself to stop.

I was flush from more than the hot shower when I stepped out. And as much as I didn't want to think about what goes on between the two of them I was helplessly trapped into thinking about them sexually.

I lay out on the bed wrapped in the towel and pulled out my note book and started to write. It is a kind of investigative journal. Another skill Mr. Dietz taught me to help focus my train of thought. I was confident in my reasoning about my upbringing. There really wasn't anything sinister about teaching a child to be polite, obedient and competent. No, now I was thinking about the 'why' of their relationship.

First I did a little search on my laptop to find out if they ever married. They hadn't. Then I searched if mom had ever married. She hadn't. I searched Mr. Dietz also with the same result. So they are both single. Why hadn't they married? There was no obvious answer to that. So what did Mr. Dietz get from the relationship? Granted he must enjoy controlling mom, but that can't explain the length of time the two have been together. The obvious answer is that he loves her. But, again, that level of control seems anathema to love. I'd come back to that later.

Why does mom consent to be so treated? Again the answer must be love. But what kind of love accepts such harsh and degrading treatment in return. As yet I had no idea how degraded the treatment would get. Mom never struck me as the weak-willed dependent kind. My impression was always one of strength and independence. At this stage I still couldn't see the connection between discipline and confidence despite being a living example of it. Was mom somehow made better by the training? I didn't know.

I wrestled with these questions and others for two days and couldn't come up with any satisfactorily rational that would explain their deviant behavior. At that time I was unable to see the connection between love and cherish that prompts such a relationship. But mom and Mr. Dietz definitely have a successful relationship so there must be something that I was missing. I'd keep looking.

There was still the matter of my origin and the web site. On the first I would have to get the answer from mom. There didn't seem to be any records anywhere that revealed who had fathered me and in pre-law you get very good at research. I wondered if that had anything to do with their unconventional relationship. I mulled that thought over for a while. I had to stop myself when I began visualizing my mom taking a black man. Ugh. Not that my father is black, but just the image of my mom spreading herself to take a man not the one I had always seen her with. Where was all this taking my thoughts? I could tell that I was getting hot as I began fidgeting and rubbing my thighs together.

I'd have to get dressed. I jumped up from the bed, stripped off the towel and looked long at myself in the closet mirror. I couldn't help but wonder what I'd look like shaved like mom. Quickly I grabbed clothes and dressed. I didn't want these thoughts. Damn Cassie!

This time I sat at the desk like a student before continuing. Did Mr. Dietz know my dad? I searched further back in both of their timelines and found that they had gone to school together. Neither is identified as being a couple together or with anyone else in their yearbooks. I wondered if this is all some kind of punishment for something. An illicit encounter with a black man would certainly count. Nearly twenty years seems a long time to punish someone though. And why wouldn't mom leave him and be with my dad? There was still no clear answer. And I was still frightfully naïve about how far Dom/sub behavior can go.

Without finding a satisfactory answer to any of my questions I turned my thoughts to why do they have a web site? The easy answer is money. But lots of people I'm sure have robust and extreme sex lives but they don't post videos of themselves doing whatever nastiness they enjoy for the world to see. Obviously they are exhibitionists. EWWW! How would you like to find out your mom is an internet porn actress? That is what this was like.

Disgusted and nauseous I gave it up. All that really mattered was that I knew they both loved me and had given me the best that they had. The rest was really none of my business. I would decide whether to ask mom about dad or not when I got home. That should have been the end of it.

Back home we had a perfectly lovely Christmas break. It was great. Our gift exchange was modest as it should be between adults. Instead we spent the time as it should be spent with social activities, volunteerism and gatherings with friends. Of course I could see now so many of the things that belong to their kink imbedded in the everyday behaviors that I had previously taken for granted. Things other than always calling him 'Mr. Dietz' I mean. Things like mom never looking him in the eye, and always walking three paces behind, always waiting to be spoken to first. Really creepy behavior, on the whole of it, if you ask me.

I got to wondering what kind of changes they had made since I no longer lived there full time. Once I walked next to him instead of mom like I had always done before. The tension radiating from mom was palpable, but Mr. Dietz didn't react in the slightest. Neither did he respond noticeably when I took a call at the table which had always been forbidden. Mom practically squirmed each time I tested the limits. The absence of correction was quite puzzling. When I left at the end of nearly a month plans to uncover their dirty secrets had formed in my brain. Little did I know that the mystery of my family was becoming an addiction?

I bought a gift for Cassie on the way back to college as reconciliation. She was there when I arrived and we flew into each other's arms. Nip to nip; hip to hip; we kissed boldly. In one month I had greatly changed, no longer abashed by the implications of such innocent intimacy as we had before; now her taste on my lips was a sweet savor. "I brought you a gift."

She took the plain paper wrapped object from my hand. "I didn't get you anything. I'm sorry, I thought I had ruined our friendship." She nearly cried as she spoke.

"I love you. We're besties, silly." I held her close as we both blubbered forgiveness and apology crying. "I love you."

After regaining our composure Cass sat and tore the paper away. She held in her hand a stout leather paddle. Hard on one side and soft and furry on the other because I know she isn't that into pain. She stared at the shiny black object in her hands. For the briefest of moments I thought that I had made a mistake, but then she looked me in the eye and said, "I know the first person I'm going to use this on." She leapt at me. We dashed madly around our small room until we tumbled to the floor her on top as she playfully paddled me. I kicked and mock screamed just as I imagine she would do when she gave it to Gavin. Laughing, we held each other like sisters.

School began in mid-January as it always does. Students renew friendships and tell tales of gifts received and travels taken as they have always done. Gavin and Cassie put their new plaything to use immediately. And I returned to class not wiser but certainly not as naïve as I once was.

But the seed had been planted. What were mom and Mr. Dietz really like together? What kind of relationship could grow under those conditions? It kept me up at night. I had to find out.

So I took another class; a class on sadism; a class taught by my own parents. I watched every video in the In Slave D© archive over the semester. That was a leap into the deep end of deviant Dom/sub behavior. I'm sure that I'll be scarred by that for a long time. Most people work themselves up to viewing that level of perversion. But I wasn't there to gratify a sexual fantasy on my part. This was a concentrated search for information. The kind of research I could expect to do in my career looking for any trace evidence to support my case. And I can imagine that this wouldn't be the last time I'd look through someone's dark past to find their dirty secret.

The oldest video was roughly fifteen years old. In the stills section were some photos from still further back. They seemed to be personal pictures that documented mom's progress as Mr. Dietz' slave. The videos though are consistent with my experience of his love of structure. Each instalment chronicled mom's journey as a sex toy. Four to six weeks separated each one with a half dozen or more a year. In every video he is dressed in exactly the same suit, a three piece charcoal or light gray pin-stripe double-breasted three button suit depending on the season, pressed and new, shoes shined to reflection, black bow tie. He looked positively dashing. Both had on matching masks that changed each year. They were all thirty minutes to an hour in length and evinced Mr. Dietz' love of superior production quality. This included multiple camera positions, transitions, sound and editing.

The early ones were all focused on mom's training. They would focus on a rule or a behavior and go through the physical training and correction taken to make them a habit. During this phase mom often appeared simply naked and spankings with belts and paddles were the norm. Very quickly I could see that the spankings were not some kind of reward for her for good behavior. They were harsh and painful. She gamely answered each blow with a, "Thank you, Sir." It was clear to me that whatever drove mom to submit to this was not pleasure. The only gratification she received was the use of a large wand type vibrator once or twice. At no time did he ever disrobe or perform any sex act with either her or alone. Their motivation continued to be a mystery to me.

From the very first the collar was around her neck. As things progressed and became more disturbingly public he always led her by the leash. During the second year he moved beyond training to testing. The first video detailed his shaving her crotch. It was humiliating simply watching him treat her like no more than an object. Later he would put her in awkward, demeaning and humiliating situations like finding some fault with her attire and ordering her to strip in public. Honestly, a little tame as I would later learn. There were degrading acts like eating from a bowl on the floor while out to dinner. Her clothes got exchanged for restraints and harnesses and soon she simply never wore any outer garments.

I cried for a week after I watched the Christmas offering that year when she let him stretch her naked over a bench, bind her arms, legs and torso and branded her hip. To her credit she bit back her screams. The end of that video showed him treating the burn every day until she healed. I couldn't conceive of how anyone could accept that in this day and age. And there is the added complication of my being a black woman. I can't wait to hear how mom explains branding to me.

Each year became more extreme. Sometimes I'd have to take a break from the study just to get my own thinking back to normal after some particularly disgusting act like when he drove a large pink jelly butt plug home with the paddle.

During the semester Cass and Gavin were still dating and playing. I didn't have time to go on dates and to tell the truth was getting a little jaded about what dating really meant to a guy. I know that the two of them were going to the site. She didn't talk about it openly but every once in a while she'd make a little off-hand remark that could only have that as a context between us. She probably knew that I was watching the videos too. It just wasn't something that friends could talk about openly. You can understand that right? How do you say to your best friend, "Oh, I saw how Mr. Dietz masturbated your mom with a pool cue at the Fourth of July BDSM party in season three (really happened). That seems kinda fun, don't you think?" Or, "I saw how mom let all those men finger her on the street corner just like a whore (also happened). It looked really fun. Let's go try that." So we both kept pretending that we didn't both know every contour of mom's body and the things he made her do with it.

As the semester passed the motivation for them continued to elude me. Granted I learned things about sex that I wish that I hadn't. I learned what extremes a body can endure and I learned about how intense an orgasm a woman can have under the right stimulation. Sometimes I would be fingering myself as I watched mom get used. I even had dreams that I was getting used of spanked or tied down. My kitty would be juiced and flowing when I woke. At first these physical responses repulsed me. Later I began to accept them as not only normal but desirable. I couldn't help myself. If a person submerges themselves in this kind of filth for long they start to think that it is normal. I looked forward to the next video and the next one after that and so on. Sometimes I even sat naked while watching. Yes, these were all videos of my mom getting spanked and tortured. All he would ever grant to her was a 'Well done, slut,' at the end. Always the same.

By season four the sessions became so intense that she'd be drenched in sweat panting and even begging for him to continue. And still he wore the suit. He never even pulled his prick out to rub. And yes, by this time, I wanted to see his stuff. I was clearly losing myself. Sometimes after watching them at it I'd lay on my bed at night watching Cassie sleep, her round globes rising and falling, and fantasize not about her and Gavin, but about taking a dildo and mounting her myself. She is totally beautiful and sometimes I just wanted her. Sometimes I'd think about how it would feel for her to twist my nipples and take them between her teeth while I was tied to my bedframe. And I wanted that to happen too.

I think Cassie was having a similar feeling too. Before all of this we each took turns in the bathroom. Soon, though, barriers started coming down. She was the first to come in while I was showering. We have a clear curtain and even though I'm not as keen on being exposed as she is it didn't faze me at all that she could see all of me. And if you are wondering, and I know that you boys are, yes we did eventually take a shower together. We washed and lathered, running our hands over breasts and bottoms. There was laughing but no real talk of what we were both thinking. I wanted her hands to fully explore me as mine explored her. Her eyes sparkled mischievously with the same desire. We were about to kiss when I slid my hand down her tummy and between her legs then pressed a finger inside her kitty. She closed her eyes and moaned parting her lips in anticipation. I looked at those lips wanting nothing more than to smother them with my own. But I held back. Even though the heat between us was real this just was a step I wasn't prepared to take. I removed my hand from between her legs. She opened her eyes. All quiet we pulled apart and even though the touch of her rubbery nipples to mine sparked a fire in my loins I smiled ruefully and turned my back asking for her to rinse my hair.