The Cellar (Fm, FM, FemDom)
by Keith McDougall (previously published as Osric134)

Note: These are just stories, some of them with very taboo themes
in them and NOT wishful thinking. I just want to tell stories and
hope no one takes my tales as anything but
sexual fantasies. I don't and never have practised, participated
in or encouraged sex with children, rape, do drugs or murder
people. I don't encourage anyone to do any of the things my
characters do either.
None of the people are real or based on any one real and bare no
resemblance to any event past of present, though I sometimes use
news stories as fuel for some of my tales.
I hope you enjoy them and let me know what you think.

Keith DOT mcdougall134 AT googlemail DOT com
(thanks for that Art)





Gasps and the gentle creaking of the bed were the only sounds
coming from the darkness of the sealed room, the heavy weight of
the woman driving the teenage boy deeper and deeper into the
rancid mattress.

He was chained to the iron rails of the old bed, naked from the
moment he woke up. That had been more than four months ago now
and he still hadn't been able to learn anything from his captor.
She never spoke, only beat him when he talked or when he didn't
do what she wanted.

Sometimes it took a while before he finally understood what that
was and he began to believe that she was a mute. He had only seen
her in the semi-darkness of the room or when the door above
opened and she came down the stairs into the cold room. He was
able to get glimpses of the house upstairs, the sounds on a TV
playing and talking. That would all disappear when she closed the
door and switched on the dim red light.

She fed him, some kind of porridgy muck that tasted like porridgy
muck. She would give him a different favoured version of it three
times a day, that was unless he didn't do what she wanted and
then he would starve for days, not seeing her in all that time.
By the time she came back down he was hungry, thirsty and willing
to do whatever she wanted.

She was a stocky woman, not quite fat. Her breasts were not very
big, but firm and round on her chest. Her skin was firm and
smooth, with a small tattoo on her shoulder of a heart with a
sword through it and the words "Do or die" across it on a ribbon.
He assumed that it was red, but it was hard to tell in that dim
red light.

She had rather long, solidly built legs that were rather well
shaped and her buttocks were also nicely rounded. She wouldn't
have been a bad looking woman really, even though her face was
obscured by the mask she wore.

–

She came down and sat on his face, using the little pinches on
his nipples to encourage him to eat her pussy as she rubbed her
juicy crotch on his face, almost suffocating him under her heavy
weight. He felt her lean forward, sucking his cock-head into her
experienced mouth, easing the pressure on his face.

He obediently tongued and licked her, gasping as she suckled and
tongued his sensitive cock-head. He gasped into her pussy, then
licked furiously as he felt his own orgasm coming, knowing that
if he came first he would be punished.

He found her clit, sucking it, tonguing it and nibbling it,
something he knew she loved. She shuddered, suckling him harder,
faster, determined to make him cum before she did. The boy
desperately tried to hold on, to keep his seed in while he licked
her pussy.

He felt her shudder and knew he had won, pulling on the fat
swollen flesh and flicking the tip with his tongue until she
cried out and ground her hips against his face, cumming very
hard.

She lay there gasping for breath, her leaking pussy smothering
him as he tried to get air by twisting his head to one side. She
sighed and he heard a hum that sounded like "Good boy!", but he
wasn't sure.

Then she raised up, turning around to face him and sank slowly
down onto his young teenage cock, her pussy remarkably tight. She
rode him gently, fucking him into the bed with her heavy hips,
her exposed mouth descending to plant a soft, very wet kiss on
his, driving her long, long tongue in between his lips and deep
into his throat.

He screamed into her mouth, choking on her tongue as he blasted
her womb with his fertile youthful sperm.

–

He woke up as the door to the top of the stairs opened and a
young child peeped down.

"Hello?" she called.

He remained silent, not knowing if this was a trick.

"Hello?" she called again.

Then someone pulled her away from the door, harsh whispers and
then darkness as the door was again closed.

It was obvious that people were living in the house, he had just
not seen anyone else before.

The room was so dark that every time that door opened his eyes
took a long time to adjust. Now he could see again in the faint
red light that shone from under the stairs.

He didn't know how long he had been there now, he had lost count
back at three months. He had lost the will to resist, lost the
need to escape. She had broken him and he knew it. He had stopped
begging her to let him go for a long, long time now. She treated
him better and didn't punish him so much now.

The door opened and she came down carrying a tray. He could smell
food, real food. When she had rested it down, she pulled off her
flimsy dress and climbed onto him, his cock already erect and
sliding into her before he knew it.

He had come to expect certain things from her, now and reacted to
her without thinking. She fucked him hard, cumming on him and
making him cum twice before she got up and fed him.

He was surprised by the taste of the food, it was good. Soup,
fried chicken, chips. She gave him bread and he sipped
fruit-juice through a straw.

Then she picked up a syringe and stuck it in his arm, her mouth
smiling. He was terrified and started crying, realising that she
was giving him his last meal.

His head fell back and the room slowly faded as she kissed him
for the last time.

–

He woke up in a hospital, nurses fussing over him.

"Mr Swan, can you hear me?" called a voice he remembered.

He looked over at the woman standing there and saw his secretary,
or PA as they were now called, tears in her eyes as she wrung her
hands. The nurses were holding her back, fussing over him. The
doctor smiling down at him was also a woman.

"You've had what appeared to be a heart attack!" the doctor said,
"We had to do a full scan to determine the cause, but we couldn't
find anything wrong!"

He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"What had happened?" he asked, he was still very confused.

He looked over at his PA, slowly beginning to remember what had
happened.

….He was at the wedding of his daughter, the reception was being
held at his huge palatial home out in Oxford. Everyone had come,
changed out of the clothes they wore at the wedding.

Since the death of his wife, he had brought up his daughter alone
with the help of his mother-in-law, Vanessa Hervey.

She was a beautiful and very attractive woman, if a bit heavy and
strong from all the work she put in at the gym. She was very
tall, six feet in her low heels and she was a regular visitor to
the house.

Alice, his daughter adored her grandmother, she practically
worshipped the ground she walked on. Vanessa equally adored the
girl, treating her as if she were her very own child.

He had adopted Alice after his wife was unable to have children,
a constant disappointment to him. But he did love her and did
everything he could to make her happy.

They had been married for twenty years and had adopted Alice when
she was ten years old. The girl would have been born when he was
fifteen, but that really didn't matter. What mattered was that he
connected with her immediately, something about her that seemed
familiar.

Everyone told him how much she resembled him and his wife, a
weird coincidence that worked well when they introduced her as
their daughter. The girl never seemed interested in finding her
real parents, even though he had that long chat with her when she
was fifteen. She had hugged him and told him that he was her
'Daddy' and that was that. He never broached the subject again.

Now she was a wife of his former director of finance and the two
of them were very happy. Tony Warren was a good man, had been
excellent in his job. Now director of his own financial firm with
the backing of his father-in-law, he had made his first few
million in profits already.

The reception had gone well and everyone was having a good time.
Vanessa came over to him and demanded a dance, dragging him into
the 'arena' on the grass that was the dance-floor and pressing
her remarkably athletic, youthful body against his.

They had returned to their table and he sat her down in her chair
when he saw it, the tattoo on her arm. He had never seen it
before, having never seen her in a sleeve-less outfit before.
It was a red heart with a silver sword through it, a yellow
ribbon adorned both with the words "Do or die" across it...

When Vanessa came to the private room he had taken at the
hospital, he trembled with both fear and rage.

She smiled at him, having 'shoo'ed' away the nurse and his PA.

"You look much better today!" she said, her hands in her lap.

"It was you, wasn't it!" he said through gritted teeth.

She smiled, appearing to know exactly what he was talking about.

"I got what I wanted and so did you. Don't make a fuss!" she
said.

"What the fuck does that mean!" he snapped, "You kidnapped me,
raped me and then drugged me, leaving me on the side of the road.
How is that 'what I want'?"

She smiled patiently at him, infuriating him further.

"You were meat, nothing more." she smiled, "Just someone to give
me what I wanted, what I needed. I picked you because I knew who
you were and what you were capable of producing."

He stared at the cool woman, disgusted at her callous manner
regarding him. She had been close to him and his daughter for
many years, he respected her, even fancied her, fantasising about
her as he lay alone in bed.

Now he had found out that she was the very same woman who had
kidnapped him and kept him for almost a year in her basement,
torturing him, raping him for all that time and then throwing him
away when she was done.

"You bitch!" he said, "I'll see you in prison for this!"

She laughed, a hearty, warm laugh that filled the room.

"Silly boy!" she smiled, "If you do you'll lose the one thing you
hold most dear to you!"

He stared at her, frightened suddenly by her words.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice carrying his fear to her
delighted ears.

"I told you that we both got what we wanted, I got you to breed
me and you got the child you always wanted. A fair exchange I
think!" she said with pride.

He stared at her.

"What do you mean?" he asked again.

"Foolish boy!" she snapped suddenly, startling him, "Who do you
think you married? Where do you think I "adopted" little Alice
for you from?"

He started to speak then stopped.
"You married my little sister!" she laughed, "Alice is the
product of our union in that old cellar, she's your flesh and
blood!"

He felt as if his world was crashing down around him, his heart
thumping in his chest again as it had when he saw that tattoo.

"Why would I lose her then if she's mine?" he choked.

"Because she has always know who I am to her, just as she's
always known who you are." she told him, leaning close to the
bed. "I told her long before I brought her to you. I had her keep
it secret from you, telling her that you didn't know and that if
you did I would be put away."

He looked away from the scheming bitch, angry and hurt. He didn't
want to lose his daughter, especially not now that he knew she
was actually his.

He felt her cup his chin, turning his head to look at her, her
eyes crystal grey as they bore into his.

"You will be a good boy for me won't you, my sweet?" she smiled.

He felt terror at her words, an old fear that had tortured him
throughout the years. The thought of her coming for him, not
knowing that she was there all along.

"Please..." he sobbed and she leaned forward, kissing him,
driving that long, long tongue deep into his throat.

–

He lay under her in his bed at the mansion, her heavy hips
thrusting him into the mattress as she fucked him hard. She had
him again, this time he was chained to her by their daughter's
love. He was once again in a cellar of her making, the cellar in
his mind.



End


  
The Cellar