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From: Homer Vargas <vargas111@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Sabah and Rod" (MC, FM, Fdom) Homer Vargas
Date: Tue, 31 Oct 2000 08:10:07 -0500
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"Sabah and Rod"
Copyright 2000 by Homer Vargas.
May not be copied or posted without permission.
This was inspired by "From Whose Borne No Traveler
Returns/Lilith" by Trey Galant and myself It imagines
what might happen as the aftermath of a similar
situation.
********************************************************
Slowly, like an artic dawn, consciousness seeped back
into Rod's addled but contented brain. He attempted to
open his eyes, but soon gave up the effort. He felt
weak, as if suffering from a high fever. That would
explain the wild delusions he half remembered. He
tried to recall them, but all he could manage were
feelings - fear, warmth, protection. Soon the effort
exhausted him and he drifted back to sleep.
The next time he awoke, he managed to open his eyes
fully. Light fell through the window at a sharp angle,
indicating mid-day. Rod was rather proud of himself
for this deduction. He must have been unconscious --
it didn't feel like mere sleep -- for many hours, or
could it be days? He wasn't strong enough to lift his
head, but he could roll it from side to side to gain
some idea of his surroundings. The bed where he lay
was in a rather sumptuous room -- heavy curtains, dark
wood, cabinets and chests around the walls. That
seemed to rule out a hospital and injury in an
accident. He had been driving last night, or that
night, right? Yes, driving in the snowstorm when the
car broke down. He tried to remember more. The large,
dark house on the hill, a woman, who had made him feel
he had been warm and safe and then so sleepy. Yes,
sleepy. The memory lulled him and he closed his eyes
again in slumber.
When Rod opened his eyes the next time, he realized he
had eaten, or had been fed. A tray was beside the bed
with what looked like the remains of soup and an empty
glass. Morning light entered the room. Another day,
at least, had passed and he felt stronger. The room
was the same, but different as if it had been tidied
up. A hint of perfume hung in the air, the perfume of
the woman who made him feel so warm and sleepy and --
that was it - horny. His cock stirred as he remembered
her smile, the cleft of her breasts, the thin gown that
clung to her voluptuous body. He remembered knowing he
should not to look at her, but she had wanted him to
look; her smile, her eyes, her body had made him look.
It was so confusing - and arousing -- thinking was
difficult. He relented for a while and lay still
absorbing the peace and healing and slight arousal he
felt surrounding him.
He was not aware of having drifted off again, but when
he turned over he saw a different plate on the tray and
he was wearing a different pajama. He felt refreshed,
as if he had been bathed. The perfume was stronger and
he sensed it emanated from the other side of the bed,
which was rumpled. He tried again to remember what had
happened. Scenes without before and after floated into
his mind. The warmth, feeling protected, the woman's
strong arms holding him to her breasts. She had cooed
as he fondled and suckled her breasts. And she had
been on top of him, making love to him, making him
shoot his seed into her. Later? She had pressed a
sweet liquid to his lips and told him to sleep. He
didn't want to drink. He somehow knew it was drugged,
he didn't want her to put him to sleep, but she had
touched his penis and it felt too good to refuse her.
She smiled and spoke in a dreamy singsong as drowsiness
overtook him. He felt more and more at ease and
allowed her to cuddle him close to herself. Fighting
sleep, he succumbed in her arms, his head buried in her
breasts as she gently fondled him.
Again he awoke without knowing how long he slept. The
curtains were drawn closed, but he believed it was day.
His strength was definitely returning. He felt able to
sit up. He tried to do so, but fell back immediately,
but not from weakness; he realized was tied. Soft
cuffs on his writs and ankles were attached to the four
corners of the bed by strong cords. They had
sufficient play to allow him to turn to each side and
were not really uncomfortable, but he was restrained.
He was a prisoner!
Panic flared and he again tried to sit up, then to pull
hard on the cords. He only succeeded in setting off a
chime alarm. Continued pulling led to nothing. The
chime stopped.
"Good morning, love," said a recorded voice. "I'm
sorry I can't be with you right now. Please forgive my
having to restrain you. I have to ensure stay with me
and, as I both feared and hoped, taming your will has
taken longer than the recovery of your strength.
Please don't tire yourself in fruitless struggle, my
sweet. I've only done this to make sure you don't
leave me. Just relax and in a few days I can free you
from these bonds."
The woman's calm voice, Sabah's voice -- he remembered
her name -- only set him to more desperate struggle.
The chime sounded again.
"Oh, my pretty lover, I am so sorry to have to do this,
but I cannot let you continue struggling that way. You
will only exhaust yourself. I want your strength for
myself, not wasted futilely. Since you did not willing
do as I told you to rest and relax, I must make you do
it, make you sleep, my angel."
Rod continued to struggle without effect. "Now, now,
sweetheart. Do you smell something different, a little
bit sweet? Don't worry. It's just a light anesthetic,
darling. Don't you already feel more relaxed? Drowsy?
It's a very special sleepy gas, honey that should put
you in a peaceful, happy mood. And something else,
darling." The voice paused "Breath deeply my love.
Are you starting to feel good? And horny? I have a
few more things to tell you, dear, and nothing gets a
man relaxed and in a mood to do as he is told like a
good come darling. If I were there, I would make soft
sleepy love to you and you would not be able to hold
your eyes open. But I'm not, so the gas must do it for
me. It's getting bad, isn't it honey, being so horny?
You need to come, but you don't have my warm wet pussy
to pleasure you. But you know what you can do; you'll
just have to get yourself off and go to sleep."
Rod seemed to shudder with the effort to ignore the
seductively dominant voice that had his prick was
twitching helplessly. "No ... wrong ... don't want to
listen ... don't want to sleep," he protested, half
consciously.
"No, dear, it cannot be wrong if I tell you to do it.
It would be wrong if you pleasured yourself instead of
me. It would be wrong if I were there and wanted your
big cock stuffed up my pussy, filling me with your
thick jism, if I wanted you in my mouth to drink your
sweet cum, or even if I wanted to give you a hand job
just to see you close your pretty eyes for me. But I'm
not there. So I want you to masturbate.
Rod's face was set with determination "No, no!" he
muttered, but the voice ignored him.
"There's a tube of lubricant under your pillow,
darling. Use a lot of it on your hand; it will make it
so much nicer when you cum for me." Rod lay
motionless. "Better hurry honey. The gas must be
making you sleepier and I don't what you to go to sleep
frustrated. Frustration makes you hard and difficult.
I want you soft and easy. Your mind soft and saturated
with the pleasure of a nice big come, unresisting, easy
for my words to penetrate. Do it darling! You know
you need it."
Shaking his head in defeat, Rod slowly reached under
the pillow and took out the tube, squeezing a generous
portion of the ointment onto his hand. Dazed by lust
and the ever-present weakness, Rod did not wonder how
the voice seemed to know what he was doing or to notice
the sensors on his body that could have supplied the
answer. He gasped as he took his hard, thick cock in
his slippery hand.
The voice took note and spoke, "That's the way my poor
horny darling, slide it up and down your prick big and
hard for me. Make yourself feel good, sweetie. Make
believe it's me pleasuring you. It's my warm wet pussy
that's making you feel so good, so relaxed. That's it,
darling, you're getting closer. So sleepy, so horny,
so close. You feel it, don't you darling. Come ...
now ... for ME."
"Sabah, Oh Sabah ... Sabah ... Sabah" Rod groaned as
thick ropes of jism wet his pajama. His hand fell
slack and his head lolled in unconsciousness. The
instruments detected the fall in blood pressure, the
decelerating heartbeat. "Yes, my precious. You've had
a good come. Now you are drained, peaceful and sated.
No thoughts, no frustrations, love. Now you can go to
sleep, a deep, deep sleep, my angel. Sleep ... sleep
...sleep," the voice died away as a faint empty smile
passed over Rod's face. The hiss of subliminal
instructions began again.
*****
This time Rod felt different when he awoke, stronger
and more peaceful. At a sound, he turned and saw the
woman came in with a tray. This was the Sabah he
remembered. Taller than he even without the heels, she
wore a short tunic that fell loosely around her
abundant yet perfectly feminine form. Something of her
confident smile told him she was a decade or two his
senior, though she was untouched by wrinkle or line.
The food she placed before him was different -- meat,
potatoes, a large salad. A carafe of wine sat by the
plate. Without consciously remembering he knew that
before he ha eaten only soups and liquids. "Sabah?" he
questioned.
"Shh, love. Eat. Regain strength. Time enough for
answers later." He saw he was still bound, but did as
she told him. He was famished and ate and drank
heartily. "Finish your wine, too, sweet," she grinned
as the last morsels of food disappeared. He looked at
her with apprehension. "Go on. What are you afraid
of? That I'll get you tipsy and take advantage of
you?" she grinned. He accepted the glass from her hand
and drank obediently.
"Why this, Sabah" he asked holding up an arm, a strand
of scarf hanging in a curve to the bedpost.
"Symbolic, my pet. Do you see how you are bound?"
"Silk scarves."
"MY silk scarves. But they are loose. Couldn't you
slip out of them?"
"Of course," he replied confidently.
"Try"
Rod began to pull on the scarf looped around his left
hand when he felt the fingers of his right hand grow
tingly as if "asleep." Slowly the weakness spread up
his arm until he could hardly hold it up, much less
free himself. "I ... I can't," he said with a mixture of
wonder and a little fear. "I am a prisoner."
"No, Rod. You could leave if you wanted to. You can't
slip the bonds because you don't really want to leave
me. The ties mean you belong to me. You want to
belong to me."
"'Belong?'"
"Yes, you belong to me because I rescued you from the
storm. Do you remember the storm? How terrified you
were?"
A storm. Yes he remembered a storm. He supposed he
had been terrified. He nodded.
"And you remember how cold and wet you were? You had
nowhere else to go. I took you in."
Yes, he remembered the wet and cold and this beautiful
woman who opened the door. He nodded.
"We sat on the couch and talked and made you drink tea.
And then do you remember what happened?"
Rod paused, ashamed of himself. "I ... I got aroused,"
he almost whispered.
"I GOT you aroused," she grinned. "Yes, I opened my
gown to let you see my titties and you couldn't keep
your eyes off them. And when I spread my legs a
little, you kept trying to see if I had on panties.
You were very horny, weren't you?"
"Yes ma'am," he admitted.
"But I didn't get mad at you, did I?"
"No ma'am."
"Of course I wasn't mad, Rod. I know what happens to
healthy young men who are alone in a cozy room with a
sexy older woman. I wanted you horny. You wanted me
to fuck you, didn't you?"
"Not exactly."
She smiled. "Well, of course your male ego made you
try to resist being seduced. You thought you should
take the initiative. And you were a little bit
frightened of me. But I got you over that, didn't I.
Do you remember how?
Rod could not speak for embarrassment.
"Don't feel ashamed, love. A horny man can't resist a
woman who offers him her pussy to eat. You did love
eating me, didn't you?"
"Yes ma'am," he agreed.
"That's right, Rod. And you did me so well, so
naturally. And when you finished, you were so drugged
on my pussy juice, my love, you were helpless when I
mounted you. You had never had a woman take you from
on top, had you?"
"No ma'am."
"But you loved it when I made love to you that way?
Loved the helpless, vulnerable feeling of being taken
and used, used to pleasure me?"
"Yes ma'am."
"And that's why you will be happy being my mate,
belonging to me, making me happy, satisfying my needs."
"Your needs?" a little smile animated Rod's face.
"Oh, those needs too, my refractory lover. Yes I need
a good fuck as much as the next woman, much more, in
fact, and I don't always want to be on top. Sometimes
I'll let you make me happy with that big prick of
yours, just being my man, pounding me through so many
orgasms I loose control. But I have other needs, too.
You will learn more about that in due course, my pet.
Fortunately, you do not need to understand to service
me. You did so the night I first took you. Since then
I have been nursing your strength back. I think you
are strong enough for little feeding."
"'Feeding?'"
"It's an analogy, dear. I need energy, sexual energy.
When you orgasm with me, I can choose to grasp it. The
stronger you are, the more often you can satisfy me."
She grinned.
"You take my energy?" Rod replied in what would have
been a protest had he been so confused.
"But it's my energy, too, Rod, because you belong to
me, right?
"I guess," he replied, hardly thinking.
"And I always make it feel good to give it to me, don't
I," she asked and reached over to touch his half-erect
penis.
"Oh, yes!" he gasped as a thrill ran through him.
"Would you let feed a little now? It will be different
this time. Before I took what I needed. You were
helpless and could not refuse. I don't want it that
way and I hope you do not"
"Sabah!" he sighed as she continued to fondle him.
"I want more than a slave, Rod, more than your
wonderful body, more than your energy. I want you to
give yourself to me."
Rod looked up at her. Fear and lust battled for his
soul.
"Of course you would, my angle, because I'm making you
horny again, making you want to come. But you are
still too weak to give me much. Let's just make this a
snack," she giggled. "How do you like this, my
darling?" And without waiting for a reply dropped her
mouth on to Rod's fully erect member. The aroused
young man could only moan his pleasure as Sabah's warm
wet mouth slid rapidly up and down his engorged cock.
She was not interested in prolonging his orgasm and his
teased body responded rapidly. In seconds Rod was
filling Sabah's mouth with oceans of come, which she
skillfully swallowed. The familiar taste and inflowing
energy triggered her own powerful orgasm.
When her head cleared and she felt his final spurt die
away, Sabah removed her mouth from his cock and
scurried into the bed beside him. Freeing his limbs
from the now pointless restraints, gently she kissed
him, letting him taste his own spend in her mouth, but
Rod was too overwhelmed to respond. "Thank you, my
darling," she whispered. "Now you are truly mine and
you were as sweet as I knew you would be. Now you must
rest." A slight tensing showed a flicker of
instinctual resistance but Sabah quickly stifled it
with a kiss and pulled Rod's nodding head to her ample
bosom. "Yes, like that, my baby. Snuggle close to me,
in my arms. Let me take care of you, my precious.
Sleep with me Rod. Sleep, my darling, ... sleep."
Sabah placed a firm breast to Rod's mouth and smiled as
the young man unconsciously tried to suckle from her
erect nipple before he grew still. Minutes later when
her own practiced hand had sent a final wave of
pleasure over her, she snuggled against Rod's hard
chest. Soon both were cuddled together, sleeping so
peacefully entwined that who could tell if the handsome
young man or the beautiful older woman was the slave.
Comment, please, to:
Homer Vargas
Vargas111@yahoo.com
--
You can read Homer Vargas stories at
http://www.storiesonline.net (Thanks, Lazeez.)
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Vargas/www/ (Thanks, Kristen)
and http://www.eroticstories.com/main
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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