Council of Quadrant Queens
- 2 years ago
- 30
- 0
The Black Queen's TV Captive -- 1 free porn video
THE BLACK QUEEN'S TV CAPTIVE
by "c.c."
The very first Clinton Crayle story--hope you like it!
My name is Clinton Crayle and I'm a very different kind of Private
Detective. My specialty is untangling the kinky sex lives of the very
rich. My fee is One Thousand dollars per day and I'm seldom out of work.
My clients know my discretion is absolute and I guarantee my results. So
if you're rich and in a jam, come to my office. Sylvia Lake did. . . .
"One thing you haven't told me, Mrs. Lake," I looked at her sharply across
my desk. Sylvia Lake was a stunning red-head in her mid-thirties, dressed
in expensive silk. But now she looked uncomfortable.
"Er- what's that, Mr. Crayle?"
"You say your husband George failed to come home from a late business
meeting Friday night. You haven't seen or heard from him since then, and
this is Monday morning. All right," I said. "Why come to me on what seems
like a routine Police matter? You know I specialize in cases with a Kinky
twist: matters where there's something to hide and my delicate touch is
worth a Grand a day - plus expenses. All right, Mrs. Lake; what are you
hiding?"
She looked down, flushed, then looked back up at me. "You're right, Mr.
Crayle, I've been keeping something back. It just seemed so- so, I
mean..." She almost broke down for a moment, then gathered her strength
and faced me again.
"When George didn't come home, I looked through his closet to see if he'd
packed amy clothes. I-I found a gym-bag filled with. . . magazines. They
were unlike amy I'd ever seen before. I brought a few with me." She
fumbled through her over-sized purse and handed me four small magazines.
MASTERFUL MAID, a booklet with intriguing illustrations, BABY FACED
BRIDEGROOM, apparently one volume of a series. ASTOUNDING TV TALES and MEN
IN SKIRTS. . . .
Now I knew why she'd come to me.
"What else did you find, Mrs. Lake?"
"Playing cards. It was so strange. They were normal cards, but each one
was the Queen of Spades!"
That was all I needed to know.
"Mrs. Lake," I said, "I'm taking the case. With amy luck, I'll have George
home by tomorrow or the day after."
"Can I help?" She looked relieved and hopeful. "Is there amything I can
do?"
"Yes. Take these books back home with you. Read them. Read amy others like
them you may find in the house. Learn from them. They'll help you decide
if you really want your husband back. And they'll teach you how to keep
hIm if you do!"
Three hours later, I was in the penthouse apartment of Cynthia Means.
Cynthia is a $500-a-night Call Girl and she's worth every penmy of it. But
I was there on my business, not hers.
"Clinton," She was saying, "To look at you, no one would ever suspect that
you were a Detective. Your face is so smooth and innocent and you wear
your blonde hair so long. . . bet they still ask you for ID in a ban"
"You're right about that," I smiled. "But my appearance has let me get
into a lot of places where a hard-nosed private eye would get bounced
right out. That's what I came to see you about."
"What can I do for you?" She cocked her head, her long, wavy, brown hair
falling over one shoulder, "And remember my rates; I'm a working girl, you
know."
"I'll remember," I assured her. "What can you tell me about the Black
Queen?"
"Blackie?" Cynthia raised an eyebrow. "She's trouble, Baby. Especially for
white men!"
"So I've heard. Tell me about her."
"She's a professional dominatrix with a very un-professional attitude. Men
pay her to abuse and enslave them, but she loves her work -too much! She's
been known to take unfair advantage of her clients."
"How so?"
"She gives them much more than they pay for--or want. A man comes in for a
two-hour session. Maybe he's been there before and he trusts her. So she
takes away all his clothes and keeps him there for days. If he tries to
escape, she ties him up and beats him until he's sorry he ever thought of
it. She once kept a man enslaved for a whole month!"
"Interesting," I said. "How do you know so much about her?"
"The Black Queen may hate white men, but she loves white women!" Cynthia's
eyes had a dreamy look when she talked about this. Like mamy call-girls,
she is Bi. "In fact, she often makes up her slaves to look like women.
Very convincingly, I might add. She does that a lot when she hasn't got a
steady Girl-friend."
"Cyn," I said, "I've got to have a session with the Black Queen. But I've
got to be able to split when I need to. It's worth a cool Thousand. Can
you do it?"
She considered. "What's this for?"
"That's a professional secret."
"Well the Black Queen can make a lot of trouble. Better make it a cool
Thousand-and-a-half." She consulted her watch. "I've got an appointment
now. Conic back at Five."
I returned to Cynthia's apartment that evening at Five, a bottle of wine
under my arm. "For the Black Queen," I said,
"Fine. I'll call her," Cynthia smiled as she punched buttons on the phone.
"Blackie? Cyn here. Baby, have I got a sucker for you! He's a square white
john who says he wants to watch some all-girl loving while he's tied up,
Yeah. Righti" She giggled suddenly and got a mischievous look in her eye.
"Sounds wild! See you in a half hour, Love. Bye now."
She hung up the phone and turned to me, "It's all set for us to visit her.
There's just one thing," She cautioned, "You said you wanted to be able to
escape when necessary. The only way I can guarantee it is for you to let
me put the restraints on you here. Then I can present you to the Black
Queen as a neatly wrapped package. If we go to her place first, she'll
insist on binding you herself, and there's no telling what she'll do.
She's got some equipment that even I don't understand."
"Sounds reasonable," I said, "Bind away!'
"First, go into the bedroom and put this on," She held up a timy leather
G-string. "And don't bother to put your clothes back on."
In her luxuriously feminine bedroom I stripped to the buff. Shoes, socks,
three-piece suit, all went into a neat pile on the bed. My necktie, shirt
and underwear soon followed. When I was nude, I tied the straps of the G-
string around my waist. It was a timy, soft leather triangle. As I pulled
the center strap up between the cheeks of my ass and tied it to the waist-
strap, the leather triangle pushed my cock and balls back between my legs.
This arrangement was slightly uncomfortable, but it hid my genitals well.
I returned to Cynthia in the living room.
"Weeoo!" She whistled, "Didn't you turn out nice!" I was slightly
embarrassed by my scanty outfit, but I stood there quietly as she showed
me my bondage.
"These are leather cuffs with built-in locks," She explained. "I use them
whenever a client wants to tie me up." They were two leather bands, about
an inch wide, padded inside. There was no chain connecting them, but each
one had a metal D-ring at the side.
"Once they're locked on my wrists and ankles the client ties a leather
cord to the rings. Of course, the cord can be in amy length or arrangement
that the customer wants, so it's quite versatile and looks very secure.
But look here. . ."
She showed me the cuffs close up. Inside the lining of each one was a timy
key that could be slipped out easily. "A few quick moves and I'm free!"
Cynthia smiled.
"Ingenieus!" I said, as she locked the cuffs on my wrists. She put a
matching pair on my ankles, then brought out three leather thongs.
"Let's see now," She mused. "I think I'll tie the wrist-cuffs together
behind your back. . . like sol Now a short length between the ankle cuffs,
so that you can't walk very fast. There! That's good! Hmnmmm. Now I'll
just run a cord from your wrists to your ankles, to make you stand sort of
straight. And there we are! As pretty a package as the Black Queen could
want!" Cynthia patted my ass approvingly. "Now come in to my bedroom while
I get myself ready."
I hobbled into the bedroom as best I could and stood at attention while
she changed clothes and freshened her makeup. The sight of her padding
around in lacey black undies and dark silk stockings was rather exciting
and I suspect she was intentionally teasing me a bit as I stood there,
bound and semi-nude myself.
"Should I wear the blue dress, or this pant-suit?" She held one up In each
hand. Naturally, this movement flaunted her firm, high breasts. I felt my
cock stirring. And then I felt something very unusual!
As my, cock started to swell and stiffen in the timy G-string, it pushed
up against my-balls. There was no give to this leather outfit and the lack
of space soon became achingly apparent as the pressure on my balls
increased.
Cynthia noticed my discomfort and smiled. She began moving around were
slowly, bending often to eriphasize her perfect ass and long SEXY legs.
Now and then she'd sneak a glance at me to check my- reaction, which was
agonized,
Finally, I said "Don't you think you'd better hurry- up and dress before I
take these cuffs off and rape you? My self-control isn't perfect you
know."
She smiled at the back-handed compliment to her sexiness. "Well, you
bought my services, Sweetheart," She pulled the blue dress on. "I just
like to show you what you're going to be missing! My, look at the time!"
She hurried out into the living room.
By the time I managed to mince out after her, she was holding up a coat
for me. "Just let me slip this over your shoulders, Dear. It's much more
appropriate for street wear than that G-string"
The coat she put on me was a strange one. Made of heavy, well-padded
cloth, it buttoned tightly high on my neck. It was so long that the hem
brushed the floor when I walked. No one would ever be able to tell that I
was practically naked beneath it. Moreover, the shoulders were padded and
a pair of light-weight arms - like those on a clothing dummy - had been
sewn into the sleeves , the hands covered with gloves.
I looked in. full-length mirror near the door as Cynthia put a wide-
brimmed hat on my head. The illusion was perfect. To the casual observer,
I was fully dressed, protected from the cold, arms hanging freely at my
sides. Only Cynthia and I would know that I was really bound and nearly
naked. What an artist she was!
But she had her own coat on now and was carrying her purse--and the wine
bottle. "Time to go, Dear. We mustn't keep Blackie waiting!"
As we left her apartment, Cynthia quickly walked the short distance to the
elevator and rang for it. I had to scamper timy steps to keep up.
"Walk slowly!" I hissed. "This outfit looks funmy if I try to run in it!"
"You'd look-even funnier running without it." Cynthia smiled. "But you're
right. By the way, did you bring this wine in the hopes of getting the
Black Queen to get drunk and pass out?"
"That's the general idea," I said.
"Well, good luck. But I've never seen amyone who could drink like she does
and still keep a clear head."
"I'll take my chances."
"You sure will," Cynthia emphasized. "You should know that if whatever
you're planning doesn't work, I won't be able to help you. The Black Queen
is too bad and has too mamy bad friends for me to even think of crossing
her Understand?"
"I understand." As I said this, the elevator arrived.
As we rode down to the parking garage, I smiled inwardly at Cynthia. I
never tell anyone more than they need to know, and Cynthia didn't need to
know that the wine was drugged with a slow, subtle but effective sedative.
Anyone who drank much of it was definitely on the way to slumber-land!
In the parking garage, no one gave us a second glance as we walked to
Cynthia's car. It was oddly- exciting to be fooling all those people.
There I was, tied up and wearing only a G-string, passing completely
unnoticed through the big open cavernous room. The cold concrete felt
funny on my bare feet. The silken lining of the coat nude me tingle as it
swished across my nipples and ass or stroked my legs. What a bizarre
feeling!
I was almost sorry the walk was over when we reached Cynthia's car. She
opened the door, helped me in, and fastened the seat-belt for me.
"There. Locked in snugly," She got into the driver's seat. "My!i. Wouldn't
it be wicked of me if I drove us to a women's club or a gay bar or
someplace like that while you were all tied up?"
"Very funmy," I said. "Don't forget that I can get out of this whenever I
want. And the only reason I've gone this far is that I've got to get to
the Black Queen."
"Okay. Smarty-pants. What you want is what you get!"
And we drove off,
The Black Queen lived in a well-kept house in a wealthy, predominantly-
black neighborhood. Neatly trimmed knee-high shrubbery lined the brick
walkway that ran from the sidewalk to her large, enclosed front porch. It
was six o'clock and the early autumn night had fallen as we left the car
and made our way to the front door.
Cynthia's ring was answered quickly. A bright porch light came on and the
Black Queen herself answered the door.
Wow! If anyone deserved to be called Black Queen, it was she! She was
tall, well over six feet. Athletically lean and muscular. Her large, firm-
looking breasts jutted out inside a white T-shirt that seemed barely able
to contain them. A pair of blue denim cutoffs and sandals were her only
other clothing. Everywhere else she was soft, jet black skin. Her dark
eyes were set in an intelligent, aristocratic face, with strong chin and
cheek bones, crowned by a short afro.
We were still outside. She spoke to us through the closed screen door,
greeting Cynthia warmly.
"Cyn Honey how are you? So nice of you to come around again!" She turned
to me, and her manner became cool and calculating. "And who might you be?"
"Er-" I tried to sound like a nervous john. "My name's Jim Morton. I 'm-uh
a friend of Cynthia's!"
"Well you sure have bad manners," The Black Queen showed a trace of
annoyance and a hint of amusement. "Take off your hat when you address a
lady!"
"I-I can't, Ma'am."
"Oh? And why not?"
I hung my head. "Because Cynthia tied me up I guess."
"Oh really? Show me how, Cynthia."
I could tell. Cynthia was enjoying this little game. "Oh I couldn't show
you out here, Blackie!" She giggled, "Could I?"
"Yes you can!" The Black Queen insisted. "That porch is screened in so no
one can see you from the street. Why I frequently go out there completely
nude!"
"Well, okay Blackie," Cynthia plucked off my hat and unbuttoned the coat,
then pulled it off my shoulders. The Black Queen's eyes lighted up with
delight as she saw me there in leather cuffs and G-string.
"Cool How nice! And so clever of you, Cyn. Bring that coat in here so I
can see how it works, Honey. You there fella. What did you say your name
was?"
"J--Jim Morton!" I chattered. It was cold out there!
"Well Jimmy, turn around a few tines so I can see how Cynthia has you
fixed."
Obediently I hobbled around three times while Cynthia went inside with my
coat. The Black Queen snapped the screen door firmly shut again as I faced
her hopefully, alone on the porch.
"How's that, Ma'am?" I asked.
"Very impressive, Jimmy. Did you come all the way out here like that?
Barefoot and all?"
"Y-YesMa'am."
"Well I'd like to reward you and let you in, but I'm afraid your feet
might track up my carpet. Why don't you just go on home."
Goose bumps rose on me. "Oh, please Ma'am!" I begged. "I can't get home
like this! Please let me in!"
"We-e--ell," She trailed a finger along her beautiful chin and shifted her
majestic hips as she considered. "All right, Baby. Come around the house
and I'll let you in the back way. 'Bye"" And she slammed the door shut in
my face!
I knew immediately I was in a tough spot. There was no question of my
leaving. Even if I removed my wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs, I would still
be stuck outside in just a G-string. Cynthia had the car keys. And
besides, my Job was to get inside that house and find George Lake!
Hesitantly, I tiptoed to the edge of the porch and peeked about. No one in
sight. I hopped down the steps. As I got to the brick walkway, I realized
that I couldn't possibly step over the low hedge that lined it with my
feet hobbled as they were. Nervously, I scampered out to the sidewalk and
around the hedge. To my relief, no one saw me as I hurried as best I could
back across the Black Queen's lawn toward the back of the house.
But there, I ran into a new obstacle. A metal fence with a gate!
It was the gate that gave me problems. It fastened with a simple flip-up
latch, normally easy to open. But it was definitely not designed for a man
with his hands tied behind him! I backed up to it and tried to flip it
open behind me, but I found that the long cord that connected my wrists
and ankles wasn't long enough for this job. Strain as I would, my
fingertips barely brushed the latch. Finally I faced the gate, bent over,
and raised the latch with my tongue. The gate swung open easily and I
minced to the back door where the Black Queen was waiting.
"Come in, Jimmy; we thought you'd never get here." She put a warm hand on
my ass and urged me to a high bar stool. "Just sit down there, Honey, and
I'll get someone to clean your feet. Giselle!" She snapped.
By twisting my arms and feet to one side of the stool, I was able to sit
as the Black Queen had instructed. And then I saw the one she called
Giselle.
It was a life-sized rubber doll. But it walked! Long, shapely legs encased
in flesh-tone latex carried this vision into the room. And what a vision!
Giselle was ultra slender and ultra feminine, wearing a black rubber dress
so short that her black rubber panties could be easily seen beneath it. As
I studied her, I realized that under the dress and panties she was totally
covered in latex. Whoever was inside that outfit must be sweating
terribly!
But that was just one of Giselle 's discomforts. Her waist was cruelly
confined and her back arched, probably by some kind of corset. Her feet,
inside the rubber stockings, had been forced into black high heeled shoes
that bent her instep severely.
A wIde, stiff-leather collar encircled her neck, forcing her to hold her
head high. A leash was clipped to this collar and Cynthia was leading
Giselle by this leash into the room.
Giselle made no complaint. And she never would. For her head was covered
by a realistic feminine mask, complete with arched eyebrows, rouged cheeks
and ruby-red lips. The mouth of the mask was open and a round rubber
object could be seen inside. I realized that Giselle must be wearing some
sort of dildo-gag.
The mask was crowned by a long, exotic blonde wig that cascaded down
Giselle's back as she pranced into the room. For finishing touches, a
white rubber apron was fastened to the dress and a tiny maid's cap was
perched in her hair. She curtsied, and her breasts bounced under the
dress.
"Make way for the rubber-maid!" Cynthia laughed.
The Black Queen barked out an order: "Giselle; clean our guest's feet. The
way I taught you."
Obediently silent, Giselle approached me with a damp sponge and a towel.
She got down on her hands and knees at my feet. Then, to my surprise, she
clipped the sponge to the protruding end of her gag -- how, I don't know -
- and used her face to apply it to my feet! When they were clean, she
unclipped the sponge, dried my feet, and toweled off her rubber face.
"Very good, Giselle," nodded the Black Queen. "Don't you think she did a
good job, Jimmy?"
"Uh-yes Ma'am." I was still fascinated by Giselle 's bizarre rubber
femininity.
"Well don't you think you should thank her?"
"Oh. Er-thank you, Giselle."
"How sweet!" The Black Queen's smile was wide and cruel. "Give Jimmy a
kiss for being so sweet, Giselle."
As Giselle bent over to me, I could see that her eyes were bright with
fear and heavy with shame. But she obediently pressed her gag to my lips.
Cynthia looked at her sarcastically and shook her head.
"All right, Giselle. Don't make love to him. Just a simple kiss. That's
right." The Black Queen said. "Now go upstairs and prepare the bathroom.
You know how I mean. We'll be up shortly."
As Giselle curtsied and left the room, Cynthia poured two glasses of wine
and gave one to the Black Queen. Good for Cynthia, I thought.
The two women sipped at the wine and ignored me.
"Giselle seems like a real treasure," Cynthia said,""Where did you ever
find her?"
"I didn't find her, Honey," the Black Queen smiled proudly. "I made her!"
"Oh really?"
"When she first came to me, Giselle was a wealthy white man named George
Lake. I made her what she is today -- a rubber serving-girl!"
"You mean -?" Cynthia started. "Your mean you actually got a john to go
through all that? Blackie! How did you ever manage it?"
My excitement was as strong as Cynthia's. My suspicions were confirmed!
George Lake was being held here as Giselle, the rubber maid! I listened
attentively.
"For Giselle, it started with George Lake's desire to remain anonymous,"
the Black Queen explained. "He wrote and told me that he wanted now some
Slave Sessions with me, but he insisted that I never be able to identify
him.
"Of course, with my connections at the Post Office and Auto Club, it was
easy for me to find out who he was. But it amused me to go along with the
game. For my own purposes, of course.
"For each of his sessions here, I leave the door unlocked. He lets himself
in, and must go straight into the hall closet where he strips and leaves
his clothes outside the door. I take his clothes away and then he must put
on whatever I hand him. The stipulation is that whatever I hand in to him
must include a mask and gag. I've never seen his face or heard his voice."
The Black Queen laughed with fond amusement as she sipped the wine. "Oh,
Honey, the fun I've had with that sucker! One time all I gave him was
stockings and panties and he had to wear them in his mouth and over his
head! Here's a snapshot."
Cynthia glanced at the photo and broke up laughing.
"Another time I made him put on a pony mask with a bit for a gag. Of
course, he had to carry me around the house for the whole session. And
both of us were Bare-back!"
I could see Cynthia's excitement rising as the Black Queen continued.
"One time, I didn't give him anything at all. I just kept him in the
closet and invited some girl friends over. Remember that?"
"Oh, Blackie!" Cynthia gasped. "Was that the night we all kept talking
about how hormy we were? He was in the closet then?"
"That's right, honey. All that time we were saying how much we wanted a
man, little Georgie was in there, stark naked and afraid to come out. Even
when we played strip poker and took turns making out with each other!"
Both girls broke up with laughter then, hugging each other as they rocked
back and forth in hilarity.
"But this is definitely the best one yet," the Black Queen went on.
"George thought he was coming here for a two-hour session Friday night. I
turned him into Giselle, the rubber maid, and she's been here ever since!"
"Hasn't she tried to escape?"
"In that outfit? Where would she go? I locked away all of George Lake's
clothes, keys and identification. And every night I put her in some sort
of bondage. Oh, she's let me know she's upset, but there's not much she
can say with that mask and gag on all the time. If she gets too difficult,
I just spank her."
The woman's casual cruelty chilled me.
"But how do you feed her and keep her clean?" Cynthia looked intrigued.
"The dildo gag pops right out if I want to feed her or have her service
me," the dominatrix explained. "And for an hour every day, I chain her to
the sink in the bathroom and undo the locks that secure her mask and
collar. Then I leave. She has one hour to wash and dry her hair, shave and
replace the mask and gag before I come back in. Then I strip her, tie her
up, and give her a complete sponge- bath and body-shave. Then I oversee
her going to the toilet and dress her again. Oh, she hates that!"
As the Black Queen spoke, I cringed inwardly. Here was a woman who truly
loved dominating men, as Cynthia had warned. She would do whatever she
felt like with a slave, regardless of her victim's feelings.
And here I was, bound and nearly naked in her kitchen!
But the Black Queen was still talking. "I'll probably keep her about a
week. Tomorrow I want to start teaching her some new tricks, and I may
throw a party in a few days." She refilled the wine glasses. "So what are
your plans for Jimmie here?"
Cynthia smiled brightly at me. "Well, when he said he liked lesbians and
being tied up, I naturally thought of you, honey." She turned back to the
Black Queen. "Would you like to take care of him?"
"Honey, I'd love it!" The Black Queen rose from the table and sauntered
over to me. I was squirming in dread, shivering on the stool.
"Scared, Jimmie?" she asked tenderly.
I nodded. "Yes, in'am."
"Don't be frightened," she said, patting my head. Then she began stroking
my shoulders and chest, gently caressing the nipples. "Tonight the Black
Queen is going to give you what you've always wanted."
She pulled me gently to my feet and led me out of the kitchen--the way
Giseile had gone. Cynthia followed us.
"Do you really like lesbians?" the Black Queen asked softly.
"Oh, yes, Ma'am," I assured her.
"I mean," she insisted. "Do you really love lesbians? Love everything
about us, the way we look, the way we make love, and all?"
"I truly do, Ma'am," I was anxious to please her. I noticed with relief
that the thoughtful Cynthia was bringing the wine with us. "I love
everything you do and I think you're just lovely!"
The Black Queen spoke with vivacious energy now. "Oh, Jimmy, you're right!
It's just fantastic being feminine and gay! Don't you agree?"
We were approaching the bathroom now. Giselle stood meekly in the hallway,
holding the hem of her skirt. She curtsied.
"I certainly do!" I answered. "It must be wonderful to be that way!"
The Black Queen's face told me that I had just played into her hands.
"Well, honey," she smiled. "Since you love lesbians so much, I'm just
going to turn you into one!"
"But I can't be a lesbian!" I protested. "I'm a man!"
The Black Queen's hand shot out and cracked hard twice across my face. I
rocked back from the hot pain. I expected her to shout, but when she
spoke, her voice was as soft as ever. "See how unpleasant it is to
disagree with me?" With a deft movement of her arms she spun me about and
her hand cracked twice again, this time across my ass. "See how painful it
can be, Sweetie?"
"Ouch! Oh! Yes! Yes, Ma'am!" I couldn't believe the incredible sting she
could put into a bare-hand spanking. She spun me around to face her again.
"Then I'm sure we won't have any more of that nonsense." She turned to
Cynthia. "Cyn, honey, why don't you and Giselle go on into the bedroom.
We'll join you in a little while and all play games I"
Eisley
- 18.11.2022
- 35
- 0
