Deanna the Dominant

by Kayla Kelly

 

My dyke lesbian neighbor, Deanna.Petite but solidly muscular. Dark black short cut butch hair. Gym rat. Icy stare. Unemployed. The occasional hello. Our modest fourth story apartments had a shared adjoining balcony. While I went to work, she snooped and burgled. It was easy as my stash of transvestite paraphernalia, bondage gear and fetish ballet dancewear was easily discovered. One late night, the sliding door to my balcony open, she stealthily entered and quickly chloroformed me in bed. A weak " ummphhh " was all I could manage as Deanna's daily workouts in the gym had the upper hand.

It was diabolical. Christening me " Kayla, " the whole next week was 24/ 7 stringent bondage. She dressed me in women's dancewear: a long sleeved leotard, tights and snug ballet slippers. Bound hand and foot, gagged, dragging me between our two apartments via the balcony in the darkness of night. Like an addict, eyes glazed, she ran through my bondage equipment gleefully and roughly forcing the items on me, feebly straining against the ropes, straps, gags, dildos and hoods. Words and movement became irrelevant. I was a helpless puppet. Pictures of my predicaments became perfect blackmail postings on her website.

After that week I was Deanna's total captive. Keeping my day job to provide my lesbian mistress with income. Evenings became her "play time" with me transformed male to female 1950's "Irving Klaw bondage model." Lying on Deanna's hard bed, clad in white footed tights and pink ballet slippers, I was encased from the waist up in a heavy black leather straight jacket. Black leather belts wound around my ankles, cinched above and below my knees and thighs. A black leather discipline helmet fit my head like a second skin, the only openings were two metal eyelets in the nose area and a built in ring gag for the mouth. This mouth opening was amply filled with a rigid large black rubber double ended strap on that Deanna was wearing as she straddled me in my supine position on her bed. She thrusted as I gagged on the large black rubber intruder. Moaning, Deanna strongly grasped my helmeted head and deeply and repeatedly kept up the action as I arched my back, toes pointing, restrained as she rode me. Her gasps of ecstasy were mingled with the sounds of night life on the street through the open window.

The next month, she had me quit my job and we got rid of my old adjoining apartment. Through the wall I could hear the muffled conversations of Deanna, the landlord and a prospective tenant. Little could they guess of my predicament next door: hog tied and gagged on the kitchen table. Deanna did insist one on thing though: a wooden fence on the adjoining balcony between the two apartments for " privacy. " Such a thoughtful neighbor.

  

  

  

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