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A Comment from Marquesa:
“The following story includes a method of subjugation that I, personally and professionally, find unethical and unnecessary.
That being the administration of hypnotically active drugs to dominate and control an “unwary victim.”
However:  What you are about to read is the product of the author’s mind and is integral to the plot of the author’s fictional story.
I have done nothing to alter the story, in that respect.”

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The drive home was, as it always is, boring.  I drive fifteen miles to work, then fifteen miles home, day in and day out.  Normally my mind is on autopilot while the car drives itself.  This night was different, however.  Friday night, I had just sent my wife and son on a two week visit to her sister’s house.  So now I had no reason to hurry home.

All of a sudden I was jolted out of my daze by the sight of a new GMC Acadia on the side of the freeway, emergency flashers on and a very shapely female standing alongside.  I quickly pulled off the highway onto the shoulder, and then walked up to the SUV to see if I could lend any assistance.  I’ve been a GM dealer technician for over fifteen years, so I figured I could help her out.

“What seems to be the problem,” I asked.

She looked up at me hesitantly, as if I would bite when She responded, “I don’t know.  The engine just stopped running.”

I looked closely at her.  She was in her late twenties, with gorgeous red hair and a perfect figure in a tailored business suit.  If that wasn’t enough, when She spoke She had an Irish accent that made me melt, except that there was one part of me that was definitely not melting.  I knew right then and there that I would help this woman if I had to pick this SUV up and carry it on my back off the highway.  I told her to pop the hood and I would take a look and see what I could do.  I looked under the hood, praying that I could find something, anything, that would make me look good in front of this woman.

The main engine control computer on an Acadia is under the hood, so I looked at that first.  Now, this computer has four large electrical connectors going into it, all with locking clips to make sure they don’t come loose from vibration.  The strangest thing was that all four connectors were loose.  No, they weren’t just loose, all four were unplugged and laying on the fender well.

Normally this would really make me wonder what was going on, my cynical mind would know that there was tampering present and something was definitely wrong.  I didn’t think any of these things.  Call me stupid, but you weren’t there smelling her perfume that floated around my head like some exotic floral garden.  You didn’t hear that lilting Irish accent speaking to me and telling me how grateful She would be if I could fix her vehicle.

I reached in, plugged in the connectors, and told her to try starting it.  The engine fired right up.  She gave a squeal of delight, jumped out of the truck and hugged me.

At that point I didn’t care if a semi came along and crushed me on the highway, as long as I could smell that perfume as I died.  I was hooked, She knew it, and the dance began.

She tried to give me money; I refused and told her that it was my pleasure.  She said that her name was Julie.  I introduced myself and pleasantries were exchanged.  She then insisted that I, at least, come to her house to let her get me something to drink.  She commanded me to follow her home.  I was so entranced that would have followed her to the gates of Hell.  Funny thing is, that is exactly what I ended up doing.

We drove for about a half an hour, She signaled, exited the freeway, and headed down some dark country road.  We got to her property which consisted of a large main house, a barn, and several out buildings in various states of repair.  She told me to park in the barn, which would seem strange under normal circumstances, but friends, this day was going to be about as far from normal as you could go.

We entered the house.  She bade me to sit in a large overstuffed chair in the living room.  She went to the kitchen and returned with two tall glasses of iced tea.  Handing me one glass, She said She was going to slip into something more comfortable.  That line scared me enough to start looking around the room for hidden cameras.  Convinced that Allen Funt was not going to surprise me this night, I sat back in the chair and drank all the iced tea.

After a few minutes She had still not returned and had me wondering what had happened.  But for some reason I felt unusually relaxed and sat waiting patiently.  I heard heels clicking on the wooden floors and looked up as She entered the room.  Then I rubbed my eyes and looked again.

The business attire was gone.  What replaced it scared me.  She had let her very sexy red hair down from the business ‘do.’ It now cascaded off her shoulders like a fiery waterfall.  She had on extreme makeup, fingernails painted a fire red that matched her glorious hair, a black leather corset, black fishnet stockings, and black stiletto pumps; very erotic indeed!  This I could deal with.  The large dildo She wore, combined with the restraints that dangled from her hands, I couldn’t deal with.

I stammered that it was getting late and I had to go.  She didn’t make any move to stop me, but as I tried to rise, I knew why.  I couldn’t get out of the chair.  It felt as if all of the strength had been drained from my body.

“What did you do to me?”  I asked.

“That’s just the effects of the drug in your tea.”  She replied.

“Why did you drug me and what is going to happen?”

“The drug in your tea was a fast acting short term hypnotic that will make you more agreeable to my suggestions and won’t hurt you at all.”  She responded.

“This won’t work on me.”  I insisted.

She walked over to the chair, put one hand on each arm of the chair and leaned close to my face.  “Shut up and listen to me.”  She commanded.  She told me to look into one of her eyes, not both.  As close as She was, I had no choice.  She then began to speak in gentle soothing tones, telling me what to feel.

As I gazed into that eye the pupil seemed to grow larger and larger, like some intergalactic black hole that sucks everything, allowing nothing to escape.

Soon, I stood up, removed all of my clothes, then raised my hands and allowed her to shackle me.  In a complete daze I allowed her to lead me down to the basement, realizing that black holes can exist on earth and, like their galactic counterparts, there would be no escape.

She led me down a flight of steps to a cool basement.  The room was dark but there were several medieval looking devices that were illuminated by overhead spot lights.  If She was trying to scare me, it was working!

She said, “Let’s get you into position before the drug wears off completely.”

I was led to the end of what looked like a large table, except that it was taller than a normal table, and it sloped down about a foot from the end where I stood.  At the far end of the table was a large mirror.  I guess She wanted me to be able to see what was going to happen to me.  My red headed Captor walked behind me and pushed me forward so I lay flat on my stomach with my feet on the floor, bent over this table.  She then spread my legs about three feet apart, even with the legs of the table.  I felt restraints being attached to my ankles.  I watched Her walk around the other end of the table till She was facing me.  She grabbed my manacled hands and started pulling.

This was the strongest woman I’ve ever met.  I thought my arms were going to come loose at the shoulders.  I stood up on the tips of my toes to keep from losing my arms from the stretching I was getting.  When She was satisfied that I could stretch no further, She attached the restraints around my hands to a chain at the end of the table.  While She was doing this I was very calf from the effects of the drug She had given me.  Now the drug had worn off and the realization of my predicament began to sink in.  Here I was, helpless, with no one knowing where I was.  Newspaper headlines about someone finding an abused body lying dead on the side of the road began to flash through my mind.  I began to shale with fear.

“What’s the matter baby?” She asked.  “Is the big strong man afraid?”

There was no point in lying, “Yes,” I admitted, “I’m frightened out of my mind.”

“Good!”  She said.  “That’s the effect I’m trying for. Don’t worry,” She said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re not!”  I asked in amazement.

Then She laughed and said, “Sorry baby, just a little lie.  I am going to hurt you because I know that’s what you really want.”  She then picked up a ridding crop, leaned over and kissed my ear, while whispering, “Let’s get started.”

All of a sudden I felt a burning pain in my ear.  She had bitten me.  As She walked behind me, any hopes that She was leaving were dashed when the crop started raining blows on my ass.  The pain was unbelievable, three, four, five times She cracked that crop on my ass.

“Now that I have your attention,” She said, “here are the rules:  Each time I do anything to you, I expect you to thank Me, and not just the words, I want to hear you sound genuinely grateful.  Now let’s see how well you learn.”

I heard the crop whistle through the air before it exploded on my ass.  I didn’t think anything could hurt worse.  “Thank you.” I mumbled.  BIG mistake!  I heard the whistle, then felt the crop hit me again even harder than before.

“I want you to MEAN it.” She screamed!

“Thank you.”  I said with all the emotion O could muster at this point.  That wasn’t enough, first the whistle then the pain.

“You will address me as Mistress at all times.” She screamed.  “Is that clear?”

Broken and beaten, I spoke contritely, “That is clear Mistress, thank You for the punishment.”

Finally She seemed satisfied.  “That’s better.” She said.  “Now let’s see how much you can take.”

I lost count of the number of times that crop hit me or how many times I thanked he for administering such pain.

Finally She stopped, winded, “That looks good and red now.  How does it feel?”

“It hurts badly, Mistress.” was my reply.

“Poor baby,”  She cooed, “let me get some ice for you.”

She then began to rub ice on my burning ass, soothing the pain.  I began to relax.

Soon, although I never thought it possible, my ass felt like it was going to freeze and I began to shiver with the cold.

“Why are you shivering?” She asked.

“I’m very cold Mistress,” was my reply.  Would I ever learn?

She said, “Let’s find something to warm you up.”

I watched as She walked over to a rack on the wall and began to go through a selection of whips that She had hanging there.  She selected not one but two black whips, each about twenty four inches long and each with about ten or twelve strands hanging from the handle.  As She walked behind me, I began to steel myself in preparation for the punishment to come.  She started slowly and lightly.  She alternated the whips on my ass.  Building speed and intensity this woman was making those whips fly in a manner reminiscent of an old Bruce Lee nunchuk scene in a bad karate movie.  With each blow I said, “Thank You Mistress, thank You Mistress.”  The pain was so great that my mind began to separate from my body ion sheer self defense.  Sensing this, She stopped, reached over and sank those bright red fingernails into my nipples so hard that I thought She would tear them off.  Needless to say this brought me back to the here and now.

She lay across my back and once again whispered in my ear, “Since you are doing so well, I have something else for you.”

I felt something hitting my ass cheek, and with a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach, I remembered the strap on dildo She wore.  I could hear something being squeezed out of a container of some sort, watched in the mirror as She rubbed lubricant on the dildo.  Then I felt this intruder pressing on the entrance to my ass.  Like a fool, I resisted, which pissed Her off.

“I’m using a small one and plenty of lube so I don’t tear your virgin ass,” She hissed, “but if you want a dry large one I can oblige you.”

I knew that resistance was futile, so I humbly apologized and told Her to continue that I would not resist.  Her mood brightened.

She smiled and said, “Good, let’s begin.”  She leaned over my back and much to my great fear, once again whispered in my ear that She would not hurt me.  Then those claw-like fingernails clamped down on my nipples.  I arched my back in pain, and then she drove the dildo home in one thrust.

The crops and whips were but a subtle preamble to the pain from the ass fucking I was receiving.  I felt as if a sword were piercing my body each time She thrust in and out.  Her hands were on my hips, while She was thrusting harder, deeper, faster.  The intensity was unbearable.  Her own passion, built to fever pitch by the cropping and the whipping She administered was now fueling this onslaught of my ass.  I watched in the mirror as She neared orgasm, head thrown back, Her moans filling the air.

All through this ordeal I had run the gamut of emotions and feelings.  Pain, rage, fear, anger, nausea, had all crossed through my mind and body as She abused me.  But now there was a new feeling starting to build, I wasn’t quite sure what it was.

Suddenly, to my horror, I realized what this new emotion was… Pleasure!  I never had any type of submissive sexual tendencies, no attractions, no fantasies, no embarrassing dreams.  But as this woman worked me over for all I was worth, my body and mind began to respond with waves of pleasure each time She drove in and out.  She was sharp, She sensed my emotions immediately.

“What do you have to say now, slave?”

“Thank You, Mistress.” was my response.

“No!  What do you really have to say?”

I didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to think it, and didn’t want to believe it.  I didn’t have a choice!  “Fuck me Mistress, oh please, please fuck me as hard as You can.”

Hearing me admit to what She knew all along sent Her over the edge.  She threw her head back and screamed like some wild animal as She buried that dildo into my ass harder than ever.  Finally, her passion spent, She collapsed on top of me on the table.  Both of us slept from the total exhaustion from our session.

The whole weekend was spent like this.  Whippings, croppings, canings, paddlings, and most of all, fuckings.  Each time She used a larger dildo till I felt I could shit a bowling ball without it touching my ass.  Finally, on Sunday (I think) night, She put a straw between my lips and instructed me to drink.  Then She leaned in close and the black hole sucked me in again.

The car horn woke me.  I sat up, realized I was in my car and that I had leaned on the horn pad with my face.  It was dark out and my watch said it was, indeed, Sunday and almost midnight.  I then realized that my ass felt like I was sitting on a box of nails,  I stepped out of my car to check for nails on the seat, then the memory of the previous days flooded over me.  I almost fell down from the intensity of this memory.  I felt ashamed.  I swore to myself that I would never stray from the beaten path of conventional sex.  No bdsm pics on the internet, no perverse avi files, no graphic jpg’s.  Mr.ing would be my new name.  Never again, never again, never again would I do anything out of the ordinary.

I still use the same freeway where I first met Her.  Drive to work, drive home.  I would never be so foolish as to stop and try to help anyone again.  Unless, of course, She should have flame red hair and be driving an Acadia…