The Interrogator

From my kneeling position, I am directed onto a low platform on all fours. Cables are hooked to my neck collar and each loop of rope. I feel strong feminine hands tighten, adjust, test and adjust more. Then my hood is removed and though the room is dark, I blink in discomfort.

“Do not struggle.”

And with that warning, I feel the platform slowly move from beneath my kneeling form. The cables become taut in holding my weight, and I feel tension on neck collar and the loops encircling arms and legs.

I am held in mid air and find it difficult to heed Mae Lee’s warning. Yet when I move, the motion tightens the loops and causes the dowels to stretch ligaments and tendons. Unless I remain perfectly still, I torture myself.

“You be good. Stay still.”

Mae Lee moves to my front. I am both horrified and heartened to see her wearing the skimpy thong and halter, permitting both freedom of movement and coolness while she flogs. Her fine form is wonderful to gaze upon. Anticipating the intense pain of her hand is unbearable.

Knowing hands gauge the tension on the cables. Amazingly, I am held in mid air as if resting on elbows and knees, neck collar stabilizing my head and forcing me to look forward. I hear Mae Lee move to a cabinet and return. My knees are parted and a bar inserted to keep my thighs spread. She tenderly pats my balls to highlight how exposed the restraints leave my precious organs. Then using my scrotum as a handle, she pushes to insert an anal plug. The familiar hissing sound and resulting pressure suggest it is inflatable.

“Nice and big for me. Be good boy.”

She strokes my penis and I am indeed a good boy. It takes very little to bring my phallus to full blossom. The nakedness, the restraints, Mae Lee’s fine form, the humiliation.

Why would I remain flaccid?

And yes, Mae Lee is correct about the pain. The dowels ever so slowly stretch the tendons. And of course, the torment seems to increase my stiffness.

Mae Lee begins the cycle. I am watered and incredibly within an hour or so, she is able to coax me into urinating despite the awkward position. Her near nakedness is such a treat for my eyes. So alluring. And the power. The heartless resolve in assuring my slow torment. Yes, I empty myself while she holds a beaker under me.

Then her strength is displayed when it comes time for temporary release. Unclipping one cable at a time, she is able to hold my weight steady and massage each limb. Of course the initial pain of release overwhelms, and she ignores my pleas and tears.

This is how I will spend Saturday. And my manhood does not waver in the celebration of her near nakedness, her presence and her thorough control.

There are countless cycles before Miss Denise finally enters. Is it Saturday afternoon? Saturday evening? I have no way of determining.

My benefactress slides a chair in front of me. I hang with my face at the level of her fine breasts, firm nipples tenting an expensive white silk blouse. As she sits, her skirt rides up to reveal much of her shapely thighs. She reaches to diddle my left nipple. I feel my erect penis waggle in response.

“More about your stepsister Sue, you naughty boy.”

Yes, stepsister Sue. After Dad died, Mother remarried when I was a child. My stepfather moved in with his daughter Susan. Rather Tomboyish, she was soon influenced by my prim older sister Kate. And after my stepfather departed, Mother and Kate soon had her into more of the womanly activities and hobbies. But there was still some degree of brashness remaining from being brought up by a single father, at least such was well demonstrated to me.

I left off describing how I exploded, laying naked on my bed, Sue standing arms akimbo and seeming to revel in observing my lustful response to her beneficial offering... a graphic photo of a half naked cave woman.

“You performed for her, didn’t you Bobby? Like a trained animal. She watched from the doorway and you just stroked away. I suppose you’re going to suggest it was the hormones. That you could not physically stop. That you didn’t want to exhibit yourself but couldn’t help doing so. Is that right?”

“Yes, I needed to climax. And she seemed to want to watch.”

“And why shouldn’t she accept what you so wantonly offered? Your complete degradation. She intended to tease, and you so willingly jumped into her trap. No effort to stop. No effort to cover yourself. You provided quite the afternoon’s entertainment for a girl Sue’s age.”

Miss Denise pauses. Her demeaning comments are intensified by the fact that I am hanging naked, trussed like a turkey. She playfully pushes on my nose and my entire body begins to gently swing in Mae Lee’s rope bondage. The swaying, though slight, tensions my bindings and I grimace in pain.

“Other encounters Bobby? I cannot believe your sister Sue would cease her bawdy games after just one successful confrontation.”

“Yes ma’am, there were others.”

“Details, Bobby. Always provide details.”

“I was stupefied by the emotional and physical release. Sue entered while I laid in rest and took the picture. Raquel Welch in animal skins disappeared. I suppose she joined the pile with the rest of my stash.”

“And what happened?”

“Well after that, every time Mother was known to be gone for the afternoon, I would return home from school and find Raquel on my bed. There seemed to develop an unspoken communication. I saw the picture and knew to strip and begin to do my thing. I didn’t bother locking the bedroom door.”

“Very curious, Bobby. Very telling. And sister Sue?”