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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Playing For Keeps by Rachael Ross (F/M, FemDom, Mast, Caution - See Note)
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Date: Mon, 18 Jun 2007 01:10:02 -0400
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Playing for Keeps

Copyright 2007 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults
only.
Story Codes: F/M, FemDom, Mast, Caution - See Note

Note:  There are elements of non-consensual/reluctant sexual child
abuse in this story. There isn't anything very explicit, or graphic,
but the references are there, so I just wanted to make you aware of
that. -rr

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"That all men are equal is a proposition to which, at ordinary times,
no sane human being has ever given his assent." - Aldous Huxley


Playing for Keeps
By rache


"It was just a game." I hit the enter key and grinned, pulling my long
black hair back into a ponytail.

"Not to me." The words flashed over my computer screen a few seconds
later and I shrugged as I read them. "Can you call me?"

I laughed out loud. "I'm not interested in boys anymore."

"Just talk, please?" He asked, and nicely too.

"What's your number?" I tapped the keyboard, undecided if I'd call or
not, but guessing that I would.

I didn't owe him anything, and I couldn't care less really about how
much he thought he loved me, or whatever. He'd mentioned something
about it, but I'd laughed and tried to ignore him. But the guy knew
who I was. He knew my screen names and my email. I didn't think he was
stalking me really, he'd just stumbled across me some ten years later.

Life was funny that way.

If I'd been really serious about not caring I would have ignored his
emails, and I had at first. But then I'd agreed to meet him a chat
room, just because I was a little curious. The man wasn't anyone to
me, not a real person, but he'd never been much of that, even when I'd
been his babysitter.

I'd been fourteen then and Thomas had been Tommy, all of eight years
old. And like all little boys, he'd been a bad one. So I did what
girls were supposed to do with bad little boys and I'd punished him
for it. I'd made a game of it, a secret game just between him and me,
two nights a week while his mom was working, and I'd made him promise
never to tell anyone.

And he hadn't. Tommy hadn't told a soul about what we'd done together...
What I'd done to him...Until now. Until he'd found me. I was the only
person he could tell, and then it wasn't just a want, he needed to
tell me. It was in his blood, and way down deep in his bones, because
he missed me. He loved me.

And I couldn't even remember what he'd looked like.

Whatever Tommy remembered of me would be changed, I hoped he was at
least smart enough to know that. I wasn't a skinny little girl
anymore. I was tall, with full breasts and rounded hips now. Dark eyes
and hair, beautiful now that I'd grown up, graduated college. I'd had
my lovers and lost them, all women, all lesbians like me and very much
little girls in everything but age. Submissive femmes attending
college, but looking like they were just out of middle school. Acting
like it too, all pouting and helpless and giggling in my bed.

I'd topped them, played the Dominant role in bondage sports and pain
games. Some of those girls learned from me, and others were
experienced enough to teach me. I was happy being the Alpha Female in
my small circle of intimate friends, in the lesbian clubs where we'd
hang out, and in the local BDSM scene. It was my rightful place in the
world.

So what did I need a Tommy for? Nothing at all and I looked at his
phone number, sitting on my little computer screen. He was waiting,
sitting by his phone, sitting in the dark probably, wondering if I was
going to call. Some part of him wishing desperately that I would,
another part hoping I wouldn't. Maybe. But that would be a very small
voice indeed.

That was my understanding of him anyway, and I was no expert in boys.
But I knew submissives and what drove them. I was very clear on that,
and Tommy had helped me out, once upon a time. When I hadn't felt
particularly good about myself. When I'd felt ugly and alone and quite
certain that I didn't like boys, even though everyone around me said I
should.

Tommy had been there for me, letting me take out my frustrations with
him, letting me experiment and explore my feelings. He'd helped make
me what I was, I had no doubt of that, but I didn't owe him anything.
I'd have been myself in any case, for one thing. And for another, I'd
taken what I could, and if he'd been strong enough to refuse me, he
would have. Right at the beginning, when he hadn't liked it so much,
he'd have stopped me long before he'd finally begun to love it.

But I'd been the bigger and the stronger of us and I'd taken what was
rightfully mine and there was no apology for that. No debt of
gratitude forthcoming. So if that's what he was looking for, if that's
what Thomas expected of me, he was waiting in vain.

"Hello?" His voice was deep and it surprised me, and I smiled at
myself because I'd been remembering a little boy. He was 18 now,
almost 19 and starting college.

"Is that how you answer me when I call?" I asked, sounding very
disappointed.

"I'm sorry." He said immediately and I sighed and then I hung up the
phone.

It was a fun game I suppose, a new one to play if nothing else. His
emails had made it clear that Tommy had never forgotten me, if
anything he'd idealized me over the passing decade. Idolized was
perhaps not too strong of a word. He'd written confessions of love,
explaining how he'd grown up desperate to find me again, and lacking
that, a suitable replacement. He'd looked for girls who would use him,
abuse him in even the smallest ways. His teenage love life had been
one long train wreck of failed relationships. His words, not mine, and
no girl had ever come close to me in his eyes.

I had a devoted slave, it was clear, an unconditional lover clinging
to memories of one hundred painful nights, fifty weeks exactly, during
which I'd created an entirely new person. I might have been flattered,
but the truth was that I expected that sort of thing. It wasn't Female
Domination, or a hatred of men. The fact that I was a lesbian had
nothing to do with it. Gender has nothing to do with dominance. If I'd
been a boy babysitting young Tommy, the result would have been the
same, just as if he'd been girl...It made no difference.

Some people are meant to rule over others. We're still only animals in
our hearts and nature has given us rules to live by. Only our
technology has enabled us to ignore them, and it wasn't healthy in my
opinion. The great social experiments of equality and standardization,
the brotherhood of man, are foolish at best. Tommy's place was to be a
slave, that much was obvious and he'd never be happy as anything else.
The cause of that was unimportant now, a different subject altogether,
for we cannot live in the past. Only the present concerns us and so
blame is meaningless excuse.

People are largely confused by those things. People who don't know
what they are, or who resist what they know themselves to be. I
suffered that not at all and I suspected that Tommy didn't either,
which explained my interest in him, at least as well as any other
explanation I could think of.

I called him again, some thirty minutes later, which would have been
torturous for him I was sure.

"Yes, Mistress?" He answered on the first ring, and that was much
better.

"Tell me why I want you?" I told him.

He swallowed hard and the phone was silent for a few seconds.

"You don't want me, Mistress." He answered finally. "I only wish that
you do."

Oh, that was a very good answer. He'd been paying attention, my little
Tommy and it surprised me actually that I could have underestimated
him possibly.

"Tell me your fondest memory." I asked him, because I was curious.

"Drinking your piss, Mistress." He said immediately. "The first time
when you...When you made me do it."

"And what is worst memory of me?" I demanded softly.

"The night you didn't come to my house."

He meant the first Tuesday that I hadn't shown up to baby sit him.
After fifty weeks consecutive, Tuesdays and Thursdays, six in the
evening until midnight, there'd finally come a night when it wasn't me
knocking on the door. It had been someone else, and Tommy hadn't
expected that. No one had told him.

"How did you feel about that?" I wondered, folding my long legs under
me as I sat on my futon. I'd felt nothing at all that I could
remember.

"I cried." He answered me softly. "I stayed in my room, I was crying
and yelling at my mom that I wanted you to baby sit me."

He sounded so serious saying that, so sad like he was reliving the
experience. It made my nipples warm and I smiled, flicking one with my
finger.

"Is your cock hard, Tommy?" I asked, wanting to spoil his mood.

"Yes, Mistress."

"I don't like your cock very much." I sighed.

"I'm sorry, Mistress."

"You should be." I told him seriously. "So what do you want?"

"I...Want?" He asked slowly.

"Yeah." I laughed. "Go ahead, just say it. Tell me what you want,
don't lie to me either, or I'll know."

"I want to see you." He said. "I want it to be...Like before. The way it
was before, when you came to my house. I want to be your good boy
again."

"So you want me to be your girlfriend, huh?" I giggled. "God, Tommy, I
don't even know you."

"You hate me?"

"I don't hate you." I told him. "I don't feel anything for you. You
were just a kid, a boy, and I abused you. You were a toy I wanted to
break, that's all."

"I love you, Mistress."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I snorted. "This is pathetic, Tommy, seriously.
Ten years later and you want to...What? You want me slap your pee-pee
some more? You want me to piss in your mouth, punch your balls, or
whatever?"

"Yes." His voice was a whisper.

"Well, I don't care." I shrugged. "It was just something to do...A
game."

"It wasn't a game for me." Tommy sounded like he was going to cry.

"Uh-huh." I nodded.

"I loved you. I loved you every day. I wrote you letters, I still have
them. I dreamt about you, I jerked off a thousand times...a...a million
times, thinking about you." He was talking fast, getting it all out of
his system now. "I looked for you everywhere too, every time I left my
house. In the street, at the mall, in grocery stores. Every girl I saw
that looked like you I wanted to talk to, to ask her if it was you."

"Shhh..." I shushed him slowly, letting him wind down.

"Now that I found you, please...Don't send me away...Don't..."

"Shhhh...Okay, quiet now." I laughed. "You are really fucked up."

"Yes, Mistress." Tommy replied sadly.

"Do you want to be my little toy again?" I asked. "Or do you just want
to fuck me after all these years?"

"Wha...No!" He answered quickly.

"I bet you do, Tommy." I lowered my voice, dropping my hand down
between my thighs. "I bet your cock is all hard right now because you
want to get even with me. You want to put it in me, don't you? You
want to put that little dickie of yours..."

"No...God no, Mistress..."

"...inside my tight little pussy and make me pay for all those bad
things I did. Don't you, Tommy? You want to fuck me, that's all you
want. You want revenge. You want to rape the girl who raped you, isn't
that right? I know you do..."

"I don't...Mistress, please..." He was gagging, literally choking on my
words.

I was stroking my cunt, pleasantly surprised to find that all of this
was turning me on. It was the first time a boy had made me wet
since...Since the last time I'd babysat him. I rubbed my clit in a
gentle slow circle, licking my lips, and knowing he had no such
thoughts at all. They were impossible for him to even visualize.
Putting his cock inside me, it would be...Unthinkable to Tommy after
what I'd done to him. After so many years of worshipping my memory.

"Are you touching yourself, Tommy?" I teased him. "Are you rubbing
your little pee-pee for me?"

I'd made him play with his cock before, his immature little penis,
making him touch himself for my amusement and then punishing him for
it afterwards.

"No, Mistress." He gasped softly. "You...Do you want me to?"

"Yes." I breathed, feeling my pussy quivering inside. "Play with your
cock, Tommy and describe it for me. Tell me about your dick."

"Yes, Mistress...Ummmm..." He paused briefly, perhaps opening his
trousers, but I suspected he was already naked. "It's bigger now...Than
when you saw it..."

I laughed at the young man, but I didn't stop him. He was very much
still a child, I realized, especially in my presence, even like this
over the phone. He regressed to what he'd been so long before, small
and helpless and so eager to please.

"...Maybe six inches long and circumcised, you know. It...It has spots,
big white ones where you...Uh...where you burned it...before with your
cigarettes."

He was breathing harder and I was stroking my pussy nice, smiling into
the phone and rubbing my pussy, sliding my fingers between the rubbery
folds of my cunt. My labia were ruddy, dark and plump, and inside I
was moist and pink, and the heat radiated from deep inside me. I
remembered everything as Tommy spoke and it was like a warm flood of
pleasure, some of those things I'd long forgotten. Tommy hadn't
forgotten any of it though.

"...I shave myself, my pubic hair because I...I wanted you to see it like
that, like I was before. I always shaved because I didn't know if...when
I'd see you again. And ummm...There's lines, little ones, white scars
from that...that knife you used when you said you were going to..."

"Cut off your little balls...Yeahhhh..." I sighed, lifting my hips,
thrusting two fingers deep into my clasping cunt. "Keep talking, don't
stop..."

"Yesss..." Tommy agreed and he was huffing and I could hear a faint
slapping sound as he used his fist on his cock.

"I have a p-piercing, Mistress...For you. I did it for you, a ring
through my cockhead...A Prince Albert for you in case you...And another
one, another ring at the base of my sack...behind my balls...Mistress...I
like to keep them locked together...my cock pushed down, over my balls...
locked behind them..."

He was gasping now, fucking his fist and it was better than any girl
he'd ever had, any cunt he'd ever violated with his dirty cock. He was
doing it for me now, hearing my voice like a ghost over the wires,
connecting him to that one year when his life had changed forever.
When I'd changed him from a boy to a slave and then left him alone in
the dark for ten long years.

"Close to your anus, hmmmm...Your dirty little hole?" I nodded and
curled my fingers, rolling my hips as I found my good spot inside.

I tickled myself with my fingertips, getting closer and closer, ready
to cum as I imagined locking Tommy's cock down between his thighs,
keeping it like that forever while I did bad things to his body...To his
nipples especially. I would be dreaming of that later, I thought, the
bad things I'd do to that boy's body. I'd break him this time.

"Yessss...Mistressss..." He hissed and we were both close.

"Play with your nipple...Stop jerking off...Pinch it, your left one...
Pinch it hard, Tommy, Now! As hard as you can! Twist it off...I want to
hear you scream, little boy...Leave that nasty little dick alone..."

"Oh Mistress...Ughhh..." He was doing it, I had no doubt.

He'd do anything for me, I knew, it wasn't a matter of faith with him,
it was a matter of fact now. He'd spent over half of his young life
looking for this moment; he wasn't going to spoil it. This was his one
chance to prove himself worthy of me, the chance of a lifetime, and
Tommy was going to do whatever it took to make me happy.

"Don't you touch that prick, fucker...Leave it alone...Play with your tits...
Harder Tommy...I don't hear it...Scream you little bastard..."

I was breathing hard, fucking my cunt with three stiff fingers now,
rubbing my clit with my thumb and I was going to cum any second.
Tommy, that stupid boy, he was bringing me off and I would never have
expected that, but it was true. He was doing it for me and I heard his
voice, not the deep, masculine man he'd become, but that sweet high
pitched little boy he'd been, screaming for me as he pulled his nipple
hard, twisting it for our pleasure.

I closed my eyes tightly, and my mouth as well, sucking air through my
nose as images and feelings I hadn't considered since I was fourteen
years old flooded me. Little Tommy, the boy I'd abused for no other
reason than it had made me feel better about myself, he was doing it
again. I was cumming, just like I used to, cumming from his pain, his
desire to please me.

And that was the game all over again, except this time I wasn't going
to let Tommy go. I'd break him this time, I promised myself; I'd push
him to the edge and over and make him thank me for it. It was the
natural order of things, the way we were, and we couldn't have changed
that about ourselves if we'd wanted to. Our fate had been written ten
years before and now it had finally caught up with us; awoken
something inside me I'd too long forgotten.

It was still just a game to me, but Tommy would be happy; this time I
was playing for keeps.

end
rache696@yahoo.com
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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