Memories Of Long Tall Mary

MEMORIES OF LONG TALL MARY Part 46

by Long Tall Mary

Sunday evening during football season is a good night for business and ordinarily two waitresses are working. Tonight it would be only Patti, the manager, as I had permitted Kristen to take a sick day. Unable to contact any of my part time help I had no choice but to assist Patti. Fortunately Patti is very efficient, and knowing of my disdain for waitressing she put forth much added effort which enabled me to spend more time mingling with the customers.

The departure of the cadets left me with an open schedule for the week ahead but it didn’t take long for unfavorable news to come my way. On Tuesday I learned that Headmistress Jones had abruptly resigned after a fiscal audit uncovered irregularities. I was told in no uncertain terms by a spokesperson for the board of directors that my services would not be needed in the future.

In my life events tend to unfold in quick sequence. Less than thirty minutes after getting the axe from the boarding school I received a call from my former sister-in-law, Johanna, in Cicero. Her daughter, Lori, had been acquired by the lesbian biker gang after my attempt to discipline her had failed. She was currently in servitude at the gangs clubhouse near Oswego and her future was uncertain. As Lori had criminal charges pending her disappearance was attributed to the fear of incarceration, she was technically a fugitive from justice.

Johanna was satisfied with this arrangement but her daughters scum bag boy friend, Kevin, had just been released from jail himself and he wasn’t buying the story that she had absconded. He was now threatening to come to Johanna’s house within the hour and force her to reveal Lori’s whereabouts.

I was quite aware of Kevin’s propensity for violence, most likely owing to his meth habit. Johanna would be helpless against him so I offered to respond immediately. Unfortunately none of my associates were available at the moment leaving me to go it alone. After quickly gathering the appropriate equipment I arrived at Johanna’s home in record time and with Kevin’s vehicle in the driveway I readied myself for a confrontation inside.

Kevin at age 20 is 5’10, 150 pound, red haired, and a geek in my estimation. Were it not for his use of methamphetamine he would be a nuisance but a non-violent one. I had already heard stories of his fighting with the police, only to be beaten severely and having it increase the length of his stays in jail. Unemployed he had sponged off Lori who in turn sponged off her mother. Kevin was confident he would be awarded a million dollars as a result of a lawsuit against the police and live happily ever after. Be that the case or not he would not be allowed to physically abuse Johanna and would come to severely regret having made or attempted to carry out this threat.

Upon entering the house without knocking I could hear the two arguing which abruptly quieted down when my presence was known. I was clad in a pair of leather pants minus the crotch cover and a zipped leather upper. “So you’re the fucking dominatrix bitch, who invited you” snarled Kevin.

Instead of bringing my stun gun, which I was not completely comfortable with, I brought a leather police type billy club, this is a flexible device about eight inches long and sometimes referred to as a blackjack. Without saying a word I caught Kevin totally by surprise striking him in the back of the head just hard enough to stun and disorient him without causing unconsciousness. The blow sent him reeling against the wall.

Before he could regain his composure I was on him with catlike ferocity and cuffed his hands behind him using steel cuffs. Forcing him to the couch on his stomach I used my second pair of cuffs to connect his ankles and render any struggle useless. But it did not prevent him from continuing to spew invectives and threatening to do harm to me.

Having anticipated the need I had brought my black jobber bag inside and one item I always carry is a pair of soiled panties. Removing them from the bag I ordered Kevin to open his mouth which he refused to do. Unzipping his jeans I reached in and removed his cock. Clearly he was not a well hung scumbag and it always gives me pleasure to verbally trash the masculinity of someone like him. “Your cock is one of the smallest I’ve ever seen, perhaps you should consider enhancement surgery” I chortled as I stroked it with my hand and bringing him close to climax before stopping.

Brandishing a pair of wire cutters in my hand I brought them into contact with his cock before suggesting it might be a good idea to open his mouth. In an instant his mouth was wide open and in went the panties. The next item out of the jobber bag was a roll of duct tape which I used to encircle his mouth and eyes, leaving only an opening for his nostrils. This only makes for pleasure later on as the tape is painfully removed. Pinching his nostrils shut for several seconds with my fingers demonstrated to him the importance of breathing through his nose.

It was now necessary to determine the scumbag’s fate. Confining a long term male slave was out of the question, Bernadette would assist me on a short term basis. Lorraine, being this was a male slave, would likely be willing to assist as well. Certainly no biker gang, male or female, would have an interest in acquiring such human flotsam.

Since Lori’s disappearance was attributed to her being on the lam, the same would happen with Kevin as he also had criminal charges pending. Later I would arrange for his car to be moved somewhere and intentionally disabled, as the car was junk it would be assumed that the owner had abandoned it.

In the past I have had an excellent relationship with the gay bondage community. Joe, the leather goods store owner, had arranged for two of my male slaves to be transported to a dungeon and placed in bondage servitude. Upon being released both were so humiliated that they left the Syracuse area permanently.

Leaving Kevin momentarily unattended on the couch in his painful restraints, I went to the kitchen and phoned Joe. He stated at the current time it would not be possible to confine a male slave upon his premises or elsewhere, but he was quite willing to send two gay maledoms to my home to assist with training. While somewhat disappointed I readily accepted his offer.

Ordinarily I use forced gay sex as a training modality for male subs I suspect of being homophobic. With Kevin there was no specific reason to suspect that this was the case, but my contempt for him was so great that I had no qualms about subjecting him to such training. Still, I realized that the ultimate fate of Kevin would not be easily decided.

Once again my van was to be used as a transport vehicle for an unwilling captive. Kevin’s struggles had resulted in his wrist cuffs tightening, which can easily in serious injury if the blood supply is cut off. As much as I enjoy inflicting pain on my submissives, some limits must be imposed so I set about using duct tape to secure his wrists and ankles which permitted me to remove both sets of steel cuffs. With additional tape just below the knees and around his elbows he was quite secure for transport.

Backing my van up to the garage door enabled me to single handedly drag the scumbag from the living room and shove him into the rear of the van. His struggles had ceased, owing largely to the gag which restricted his breathing coupled with the mass of duct tape wrapped around his limbs. For a little extra humiliation I stroked his cock by hand a few times and left it sticking out of his zipper. I didn’t even bother to secure him to the floor bolts and drove quite cautiously back to Camillus periodically observing him by glancing to my rear.

Upon arriving home I pulled the van into the garage and again single handedly dragged my captive to the basement dungeon area. I roughly unwound the duct tape covering his mouth and eyes enabling him to see his new temporary home, the panties were removed from his mouth as well. The other restraints were left in place and I dragged him into the holding cell before locking it.

My prisoner, realizing his helplessness attempted to put forth a conciliatory posture by saying meekly“can’t we work this out and be friends”. My response was to inform him he was not to speak without permission. To demonstrate the consequences I reentered the holding cell, a short riding crop in my hand and delivered a stinging blow to his cock which still extended through his jeans. Once again I made reference to its smallness and offered the observation that such cocks are generally responsive to cock rings and ball stretchers, in addition to periodic croppings.

Kevin needed to be subjected to continual pain so I pulled his jeans and underwear down to his feet before returning with a tooth brush and a small jar of mentholated cream. After dipping the tooth brush into the jar it was penetrated roughly into Kevin’s asshole causing him to struggle helplessly in his bonds. The cream would irritate his innards for at least an hour and hopefully would dissipate by the time he was to be penetrated by the cock of his gay trainer.

As I slammed the cell door shut Kevin, no longer gagged realized the futility of pleading for an amicable outcome and reverted to his characteristic bellicose temperament by mouthing threats to alter my anatomy. He had yet to learn that he had an appointment with a gay bondage trainer within a few hours nor that the female attire lying on a chair next to the cell had been specially purchased by me and was sized for wear by larger framed subs, male subs of course. I love springing such surprises incrementally rather than all at once!

Leaving him unattended to writhe in misery, I went upstairs intending to participate in one of my regular AOL chatrooms but was interrupted by several phone calls. One such call was from Bernadette who evidently felt some compulsion to relate some of the details of her date with one of her professors. It seems the prof was a latent male sub and that Bernadette had kept him bound up for much of the date in addition to satisfying him sexually in some more conventional ways. Her motive was venal of course, she was quite confident she would receive a high final grade in the microbiology course she was taking.

With the unrelenting interruptions today I finally logged off and resolved to answer phone calls only from a select few individuals. My chief concern was how to dispose of Kevin, it was indeed a quandary that had to be addressed immediately. Most males after being forced to undergo this type of bondage would be so humiliated they would leave the area permanently.

While this would certainly be a desirable outcome for Kevin I had no reason to hope it would occur. One of my worst nightmares has been some male that I tortured, bursting into my tavern and opening fire. With someone of Kevin’s ilk some type of violent outcome was almost certain. Having Kevin snuffed was not an option, for all the numerous depravities I have inflicted I would never seriously consider it.

Once again my cell rang and Caller ID showed the call coming from Joe, the leather store owner. The caller identified himself as Brian and that he was one of two gay bondage trainers assigned to Kevin. We agreed to begin the session in two hours and once again I continued to contemplate Kevin’s fate.

END PART 46