Oz Beach Boy Chained by Cougar

NOTES: This is a direct continuation of my previous story "Oz Beach Boy Vid And French Cougar." It can (hopefully) still be read as a stand-alone story, but reading this previous entry is strongly suggested. This is a CFNM story featuring female-of-male domination, humiliation, ridicule, mid-level pain infliction, and confinement, but no intercourse. It is considerably "rougher" than my previous stories. Though there are schoolgirl characters, they are all over eighteen. This is a work of complete fiction. This story takes place months before my recent holiday-themed entries.

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It was a wet, dreary summer's evening in Sydney, Australia. I was sprawled across my bed completely naked, happy and satisfied after furiously jerking off to online images of singer and rapper Lizzo's sexy "Rolling Stone Magazine" photo shoot.

I tossed the resulting semen-soaked wad of tissues into the bin, and flicked over to my email account while absent-mindedly fondling my enormous, now flaccid 23cm cock.

There was a short, concerning email from my eighteen-year-old friend, Mia St. Clair, a beautiful schoolgirl that I'd developed a kinky, near-inappropriate relationship with.

"Matt," the message read. "I know you like to communicate via email to keep things at a safe distance, but we really, really need to talk, as soon as you can. Please ring me. Thanx, Mia."

The ever sweet and delightful Mia ended the message with a bunch of hugs and kisses, and then provided her phone number.

Though it might not seem like it, this was a big step up in our very, very casual, decidedly unusual, and singularly saucy friendship.

I'm a sex addicted 25-year-old exhibitionist who loves flashing willing women whenever I can in the hope of prompting any possible sexual activity that might arise.

I love being naked in front of groups of women, and I also enjoy mild humiliation and light domination.

I'm very well hung, I'm in great physical shape, and I've been told I'm good looking, so I've seen a fair bit of action over the years.

I'd met the gorgeous Mia, along with her also eighteen-year-old and also gorgeous friend Iris Willowpoint, when I cheekily exposed myself to them at a secluded bay not far from my home [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Strips For Schoolgirls"].

I'd then engaged in some very sleazy behaviour with Mia, Iris and three of their equally gorgeous friends. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Denuded By Schoolgirls"]

I'd had sex with one of them, taking her virginity in the process. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Deflowers Schoolgirl"] The others, meanwhile, had all either jerked me off or gone down on me.

I'd pretty much functioned as an on-call erotic entertainer for these horny, sexually curious eighteen-year-old schoolgirls.

To make things even more complicated, I had also enjoyed an incredibly hot, torrid afternoon of sex with Mia's beautiful fifty-year-old mother, Dominique, after sneakily skinny dipping in her backyard swimming pool. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Meets Schoolgirl's Mum"]

Mia was still unhappy about that, and was only half-way to forgiving me for it.

Deeply concerned about the obvious urgency of Mia's email, I wrapped a towel around my waist and quickly tapped in the number she'd supplied.

After one very quick ring, Mia's shaky, panicked voice came on the line, and she talked breathlessly.

"Oh my god, Matt, I'm so sorry," she said hurriedly. "My crazy art teacher confiscated my phone in class, and she saw the video! The sneaky bitch looked through my phone and found your wank video. She says I was looking at in class, which is not true! I was just checking my messages! She went through my phone and found it! And now she's gonna bust all of us."

Mia and Iris had indeed filmed me masturbating for a cheeky cowgirls-and-Indians themed video in which their friends Olivia, Charlotte and Malika had also appeared. There was no sex, just me jerking off. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Schoolgirls Wank Video"]

Mia had intended to cut it together into a silly little story about an Indian chief being forced to play with himself for the entertainment of two cowgirls.

We had all dressed the part, and it promised to be a good laugh, though it looked like it had now landed us all in a lot of trouble.

"Fuck," I sighed. "What's gonna happen now?"

Mia, Iris, Charlotte, Olivia and Malika were all over eighteen (I'd actually checked their ID), so I knew there wouldn't be any issues with the police over the video, but if Mia had the phone at school, this could obviously be very, very problematic.

"Ms. Chabrol said she'd let it go if I put her in contact with you," Mia said nervously. "If I didn't give her your deets, she said she'd tell the school principal, and then she'd inform all of our parents about the video."

A bolt of fear shot through me. We'd actually filmed the video in Mia's house, and her mother would be furious.

I really liked Dominique, but she was a tough woman, as well as a high powered lawyer, and I didn't want to be on her bad side.

I also desperately wanted to fuck her again, and this little fiasco might put that in jeopardy.

Dominique didn't know the full details of what I'd been up to with Mia and her friends, and she likely wouldn't be too pleased about it.

"What did you do?" I asked calmly.

"I'm so sorry, Matt," Mia said quietly and with obvious difficulty. "I was so scared! I gave her your email address. Ms. Chabrol is really weird...she's always showing us sculptures and paintings of naked men in class. She's always talking about willies. She's a bit pervy."

"Really?" I asked, slightly curious. "What does she want from me?"

"She said she wants to meet with you and talk to you about all of this," Mia replied. "Matt, I'm worried she's gonna make you have sex with her, or make you do some weird stuff."

"Is she cute?" I giggled nervously. "You know I have no problem with sex and weird stuff."

"Yeah, she's okay," Mia said, relaxing a little. "She's thin...and French...she's kinda pretty, but she's really old, like in her forties or something. She wears an eye-patch."

"What...like a pirate?" I laughed.

"Yeah, like a pirate," Mia giggled. "But she's a weirdo...I'm worried about what she might do to you. She's got the video...she might force you to lick her vadge or something. French women are into that, aren't they?"

"I think most women are into that," I giggled. "Not just ones from France."

"Oh my god, you didn't lick my mum's vadge, did you?" Mia gasped, and then paused. "Wait a minute, don't answer that...I don't want to know!"

"Well, I'm more worried about Ms. Chabrol telling your mum than I am about having to lick her out," I laughed. "You'll all be fucked, and your mum will kill me! I'll wait to hear from Ms. Chabrol, and then I'll meet with her. I'll let her have her way with me if she wants. I'll lick her pussy too...whatever. I'm always up for it, Mia, you know that."

"Oh my god, Matt," Mia sighed. "I'm so sorry. First, my mum got you, and now this! All these old ladies are after you! It's gross! You've got my number now...stay in touch, Matt."

I tried to reassure the deeply concerned Mia that I had it under control, and we eventually said goodbye.

I then hung around my apartment, watching TV and casually checking out some hot naked images online of statuesque Australian basketball player Liz Cambage.

Later in the evening, the concerning email from Ms. Chabrol finally arrived, like a gun-shot in the night. It was short, direct and curiously enigmatic.

I was immediately both worried and aroused by where this whole situation was going.

"Bonjour Mathieu," the email began. "I am a teacher at the school attended by your friend Mia St. Clair. You and I have something to discuss, and you know what it is. I'm sure Mia has been in contact with you by now. You will be at my home at 8:00pm on Saturday evening. Au revoir...Ms. Jacqueline Chabrol."

The email ended with the French schoolteacher's address. I sucked in a deep breath, and then hastily made myself a calming scotch-and coke. I was nervous and excited.

If Ms. Jacqueline Chabrol wanted to fuck me, that was fine. I would fuck pretty much any woman on the planet, with a few exceptions, and a thin, kinda pretty, eye-patch wearing fortysomething French schoolteacher sounded pretty fucking good to me.

I'd had sex with a few older women in the past, and I'd loved every wet, hot minute of it.

I took a slug of the scotch-and-coke, and committed to meeting with Ms. Jacqueline Chabrol.

If it meant Mia and her friends -- and me -- staying out of trouble, and a possible fuck into the bargain, I was prepared to take the risk. I replied to the French schoolteacher's email.

"I'll see you on Saturday," I wrote. "I'm intrigued. Matt."

On the following wet, windy, blustery Saturday night, I stood outside a tall apartment building not far from the city centre. Ms. Jacqueline Chabrol awaited me inside.

I'd told Mia where I was going over the phone, and I'd left a note on my desk at home with the details and address too.

Whatever this possibly rapacious French schoolteacher had planned for me, it wouldn't be life threatening...I'd made sure of that.

If I didn't contact Mia within 24 hours, she would call the police. I would let Ms. Jacqueline Chabrol know that.

I was dressed smartly in a pair of blue chinos and a t-shirt. I'd slapped on plenty of cologne, as well as slicking back my longish brown hair.

I didn't know what to expect. I pressed the intercom, and Ms. Jacqueline Chabrol's sexy voice crackled over the speaker.

"Bonsoir, Mathieu," she purred in a lovely French accent. "Please come up. I am on Level 6. Things are going to get very interesting for you now."

I gulped, and headed nervously inside. What the hell had I gotten myself into? That god damned wank video...

I took the elevator up, and then finally found myself at the door of Ms. Jacqueline Chabrol. I knocked quietly, and then once again heard her charmingly accented voice.

"Entrer, Mathieu," Jacqueline said in French from inside. "The door is unlocked."

I opened the door into a stylish, compact, classily decorated apartment with large, ceiling to floor windows.

Ms. Jacqueline Chabrol stood dramatically in the middle of the lounge room with a salacious, knowing smile on her face.

"Welcome," she said. "Come in."

I moved inside and shut the door gently behind me. I looked the French schoolteacher up and down, and was shocked by her bizarrely theatrical appearance.

She wore a black PVC cat-suit which showed off her lithe figure. It zipped up the front from her neck to her waist, and was teamed with a pair of black leather high-heel boots.

Her long brown hair was slicked back from her angular but attractive face with lashings of gel, and she wore thick, black make-up on her one visible eye.

Rich, red, matte lipstick accentuated her pouty mouth, and her black eye-patch completed the decidedly intense look.

The sexy and very peculiar Ms. Jacqueline Chabrol looked like a comic book villainess or a femme fatale super spy from a James Bond movie.

I was instantly fixated by her quirky beauty, but undeniably troubled by the very weird vibe she gave off.

"Mathieu, thank you for coming, although you didn't really have a choice," the French schoolteacher smirked. "I have in my possession the amusing video in which you so unforgettably feature. You really put on quite the show, didn't you? You really abused your body for the camera...you're a natural!"

"Yeah, I guess," I replied. "It's just a bit of fun."

"I don't think the school principal would agree," Jacqueline snapped back. "Nor would the parents of the eighteen-year-old schoolgirls involved with the video. I don't believe they would find it to be fun. They would probably find it quite disgusting. The whole situation would be most embarrassing for you, and the girls would likely be expelled from school, even though they are so close to completing their studies."

"Do you really have to do that?" I asked. "Do you have to tell their parents? There wasn't even any actual sex. We're all adults...it was completely consensual."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Jacqueline replied. "Trust me, if the girls were under eighteen, I would have called the police immediately, and their parents also. But I don't have to tell the girls' parents...no, that doesn't have to happen. You and I can come to an arrangement to prevent that."

"Is that right?" I asked. "What does this arrangement involve?"

"This arrangement involves you submitting to my unusual sexual desires," Jacqueline said with a slight sense of nervousness in her voice and a strained smile across her face. "You're a beautiful young man, and I want to take complete control of you this evening. You will be my plaything. If you decline, I may also be tempted to upload the video to various websites, which would be incredibly embarrassing for all of you, wouldn't it?"

This was getting both sexy and disturbing. I'd been sexually used and abused by a few women over the years, and I got off on that in a major way.

I didn't, however, enjoy being hurt, and this French fortysomething had a serious dominatrix thing going on. But I had no real choice.

"So, you're blackmailing me for sex?" I asked. "That's what's happening here?"

"Well, if you want to be crude and boringly obvious about it, then yes," Jacqueline replied. "But this might not be the kind of sex you're accustomed to. I will do with you as I please, mon cher...you will not have the power in this situation. You will not be so manly. You will be mine."

"Okay," I said quietly. "And you won't ruin it for the girls? You won't put them in? Or upload the video?"

"No, it will end with us," Jacqueline replied. "You have my word...I actually like Mia, so I hope you will comply. Then I won't have to take further action. Please come into my bedroom, Mathieu. It is time for you to relinquish your power. You will now surrender yourself to me."

We both moved into Jacqueline's bedroom. In the middle of the small space was a double bed, while a large built-in wardrobe took up one entire wall.

There was a stylishly minimalist coat-and-hat rack in a corner of the room, bare except for a long black leather coat, and a large white sun hat.

The other walls -- all painted a clean, stark white -- were intriguingly decorated with artful, framed black-and-white photographs of young, muscular male nudes.

Despite being stylish, the photographs weren't exactly discreet, with the men's large penises clearly visible in every framed image.

I was surprised that a woman would decorate her bedroom with such openly and explicitly sexual artwork, and assumed that Jacqueline probably didn't receive many visitors.

I was okay with it, but most men would likely feel instantly inadequate compared to the photographs.

Strangely, I sensed an intense sadness and loneliness boiling away behind Jacqueline's perfectly fabricated dominatrix façade.

I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I continued to go along with the French schoolteacher's wishes.

Jacqueline pulled the covers off the bed, revealing the expensive-looking satin sheets beneath.

She then bent down at one of the bed's side tables, and stood back up quickly, a sly smile creasing her face. Jacqueline held a set of metal handcuffs in each hand.

"Get on the bed," she said softly. "Now"

I slid across the bed, now deeply concerned. I didn't think Jacqueline's fantasies of control would be so literal.

Being handcuffed was not my thing, and nervous beads of sweat started to drip down my back.

"Spread your arms across the bed rail," Jacqueline said. "I am going to constrain you, Mathieu. You have no choice."

There were two large decorative metal spheres at each end of the bed rail, and I obediently rested my wrists just inside them.

Jacqueline leaned down and cuffed each of my wrists to the cold metal. The steel bit into my flesh as the cuffs clicked into place.

I slid my arms across the rail behind me, but the metal spheres effectively meant I was trapped. They served as barriers to the cuffs sliding off. Jacqueline stood back and observed me.

Though the handcuffs appeared to be purchased from a sex shop, they were still strong enough to keep me well and truly restrained. I pulled against them, but they held firm. Jacqueline smiled.

"I will return in just a moment," she said and smiled wickedly, moving slowly out of the room on her high heels.

I tested the cuffs again while Jacqueline was gone, and realised that I was now effectively her prisoner.

When the French schoolteacher returned, however, my fears truly started to swirl. In Jacqueline's right hand was a large pair of scissors. She smiled at my obvious nervous reaction.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked. "Mia knows I'm here, and I've left a note at home. If I don't walk out of here in 24 hours, the cops will be banging on your door."

"Oh, Mathieu," Jacqueline laughed. "You think I am going to kill you? I would never do such a thing! Yes, I would ideally like to imprison you here indefinitely as my sexual slave, but I am not a complete psychopath...I know that is not possible, except in my wildest dreams. People will obviously know you are gone. I cannot do that."

"Good! And if you do anything serious with those fucking scissors, I'll call the cops! Blackmail or no fucking blackmail," I spat and kicked out with my legs. "Don't you fucking dare!"

"Mathieu, I have no intention of doing anything to you that can't be undone," Jacqueline said calmly. "At least physically, anyway. I will not cut anything off. Yes, I do prefer my men circumcised, but I will not be making any adjustments to your manhood, I promise. I won't chop your testicles off either. Don't fret, mon cher. You will be rendered powerless but you will still physically be a man when you leave."

"Then why do you have the scissors?" I asked. "What are you going to do?"

"Why, I am going to cut off all your clothes, of course," Jacqueline smiled. "Surely you didn't expect to remain fully attired?"

"No, of course not," I replied. "The photos on your walls are a slight giveaway."

"Oh, yes," Jacqueline cooed. "I like my men completely naked. If I had my way, you'd all be stripped and then paraded through the streets with your phalluses exposed for the women of the world to enjoy and ridicule."

The obviously deranged Jacqueline reached down and slowly slit my t-shirt from the waist to the neck with the scissors.

I stayed perfectly still as I felt the cold metal sliding over my torso as my shirt was cut apart.

Jacqueline then sliced it open at the shoulders. Laughing wickedly, she pulled my split t-shirt apart and threw it to the ground.

Jacqueline gazed open-mouthed at my well-muscled chest and shredded abdomen.

She practically licked her lips while taking in every marbled inch of my bare torso. She put the scissors in the drawer of the bedside table.

"You are exquisite," Jacqueline whispered, and roughly pulled off my sneakers and socks. "You have the body of a Greek god. I will remove your trousers now so I can see the rest of it. I won't use the scissors. I'll just pull your pants off. I'll have to leave you something to go home in! I can't send you into the night in your birthday suit! Goodness, you might get raped!"

Jacqueline laughed broadly, obviously tickled by the idea of sending me home in the nude.

Though I was an exhibitionist, I liked to be in control of when I was naked, and running through the city streets without a stitch did not appeal to me...not at all.

"Do not try and kick or strike out at me with your legs, or you will suffer the consequences," Jacqueline continued. "You never know...maybe I will change my mind about chopping off your testicles. I'll use them as earrings...very big earrings."