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Wulfenstraat13 Profile Wulfenstraat13 Profile views: 170 Fanbase: 3 About Me Not filled in yet Interests Not yet filled in Signed up: 2 years and 2 months ago Images viewed: 0 Images uploaded: 15 Birth: 18/09/1978 Location: United States Last Online: 2 years and 1 month ago Connect with Wulfenstraat13 Send Message Add Comment Become a fan Add to relations Status updates Comments (0) (See All Comments) Wulfenstraat13 Comments: 2 Commented on Mar 22, 2023 "Excerpt from "Nowhere and Nowhither Tales", publication date 2024 “From the moment you propositioned me, JacQueline, I knew I would be selling myself a pound of flesh at a time, until there would be nothing left of me, just a soulless creature that you would use and abuse whenever you get bored.” “I’m not bored, MonOncle. I’m never bored. But, I do give in to my delicious hormones when they come on, when the joy of sadism rises from my pussy to my mind. That’s why, when I need you, MonOncle, you have to be there for me. You have no idea what I would do if you ever decide not to please me.” “Do you hear that? That’s what I’ve been living with for thirty years. I can’t go on like this.” “He can, and he will.” “No, it has to stop. Listen. Please, listen. Do you know how this all began? ‘I’ll give you 30DFŗ, if you show it to me,’ she said. ‘Nobody will know, MonOncle. It’s just going to be between us. Our little secret.’ And she begged, saying, ‘I really want to see it. Please!’” He turned and faced his niece. If not completely capable of holding her eyes, he still addressed her directly, “You knew I was drunk, and you had heard me talking dirty to the ladies.” He turned away from the wrathful glare in her eyes, which promised a painful retribution for what he’d already revealed. “She has always said that I treated women like sex objects” ~ he lowered his voice in shame ~ “before she took me over, body and soul.” “You were a hypocrite and a coward. You only took it so far with them; then you would back away, rarely following through on your propositions with these women. You were always frisky but never down to the deed.” “I admit, I was flirtatious that night. I wanted to flirt with them, innocently play with them, just talking dirty...with limits, with limits. I just wanted to flirt and make us all feel happy. You knew that, JacQueline. And you took advantage of me.” “Who’s to say who took advantage of whom? I was twelve. You were twenty-nine. Who would the courts believe? You?” “But, it was your idea. Admit it. You bought me for 30DFŗ, the price of a cheap meal.” “Much too much. I could have had you for a single sou. It was never about the money.” “No, it wasn’t about 30DFŗ.” He shook his head and humphed. “Just coins she had, just so much silver. But I took the money. I needed her to remember that it was her idea. So I sold her a look at my penis. Is that so awful? It’s not much different than if she’d walked in on me in the shower or while I was changing my clothes. It was that simple to my sinthe-soaked mind. I didn’t think it was a big a deal; and she was begging to see it. So...? So, we made a little trade between us, our own little secret that would bind us closer as friends and family. I told her to wait for me in the bathroom and, a minute or so later, I joined her. But after she paid me thirty pieces of silver, she went beyond. What she did wasn’t.... We hadn’t bargained for that, on that. I’m telling you, it wasn’t my idea.” “I made it grow!” she exclaimed, smiling broadly at the remembrance of it, thirty years previous. “I made the head of it pulse so big that I thought it would burst. And I remember,” she laughed, turning to stare at him until he looked away, “I remember your eyes when I made you come. You were terrified.” “And...and I’ve been ever since,” he added, his voice diminishing to a whimper. “I prefer a healthy fear in a sex slave. Better than irons. And I intend to keep you that way, MonOncle.” “Do you hear her? That’s what she’s made of our relationship. She’s my niece; I’m her uncle! Where’s the respect? Nowhere and nowhither. After that, after our first time when she went beyond what we had agreed, she became more possessive, more insistent,” he whined, turning suddenly to face her again, “which is where you should have stopped, JacQueline. You should have found boys to play with, to experiment with...after that. You should have left me alone. Instead, you blackmailed me with threats, with telling what had happened in the bathroom. Over thirty years, I was forced to give in to your demands, demands which are now so perverted that I can’t believe I’m doing any of that with you.” “Not with me. For me.” He paused in his denunciation and straightened his back on the rebuke. “She’s right, of course. For her. For you, JacQueline. You don’t care how I feel about what you do to me. And you do horrible things to me, JacQueline: bestial, ungodly things...to me.” “You let me.” “I did let you...after what you did to me, when you were twelve; and I do now. I had to then; I had no choice. There was no way that I would have been able to defend myself against a twelve-year-old who insisted that...that....” He looked down at the floor which is when his voice quivered to a falsetto. Then, finding his voice, he looked up again, skirting her eyes but never looking squarely into them. “You threatened me with telling. You said you would tell that I had made you play with it and made you suck it. A little girl of twelve saying something like that? It would have ruined me. I would have been tried and convicted at your first utterance. I would have spent thirty years in prison.” “It was your choice, as it is now. Claim your innocence. You can be a prisoner in public knowledge, or you can continue to be mine in private sessions.” “But I’ve served my thirty years, JacQueline. When do I get my reprieve?” “It’s a life sentence. No reprieve.” He shook his head, refusing to believe that he had no way out. “From the moment I ever let her see it, I lost my free will. I participated in every whim she has ever had, until I have no volition of my own. She knows she owns me. That secret of what we did, of what I let her do, is just too big. She knows she can do anything with me...and she has. She even installed a cockcage on me. Can you believe that? I can’t make love to her aunt or to any other woman, not even masturbate. She’s taken that...all that from me.” Smiling in satisfaction of their current circumstance, she reached down to his crotch and grasped the bulge of his cockcage in a sure grip. “That’s cuz he belongs to me, all of him...to me. I am selfish that way. His bird and balls are mine, and I’m the only one who will ever make him come...if he ever comes again.” She turned her face to her uncle, making him understand himself as she had made him. “I assume MaTante Em sleeps in another bed by now and that she hasn’t seen you naked for at least a year.” Humiliated, he hung his head and mumbled something. “Correct? Am I right? Right?” “Yes. Yes, you’re right.” “Of course I’m right. Or else, she would have seen the cockcage.” JacQueline laughed in visualizing how he had cringed when she had manipulated him into wearing a chastity device. “You belong to me, MonOncle...just to me, for me, all about me.” She yanked up on the cockcage, making him rise on tiptoe, making him comply as she had taught him. “Yes, just to you, princess,” he mewled. “You know I’m all about you. I worship you, everything about you. I don’t exist if not for you. It has always been everything about my person for you.” “Always safer for you to do exactly what I want, no matter how degrading or suicidal? It’s always been best for you to do what I want?” “Yes, yes.” She laughed. “Of course, it is. It has always been safer for you that way, cuz you’re a hypocrite and a coward, MonOncle. How I despise you. And that’s why you have to do what I tell you, or I will spread it around that you’re wearing some woman’s cockcage.” “Yours?” he corrected timidly, shuffling his feet. “No, why should I soil myself with that rumor? When it gets around to Aunt Em, let her wonder which of her girlfriends has put you in a cockcage. And you will let her believe that, MonOncle, cuz you don’t want her knowing what you did with me when I was twelve years old.” His shoulders rising, he squinched his face at the memory he remembered differently. “You were an evil little girl, JacQueline.” “Not evil. Fun-loving. I snared a man; and now I do whatever I want with him.” She let loose her grip on his crotch and, with a wave of that hand, dismissed him, letting him disappear into subservience with his best prospects bared and beat. “So, my lord, if you think you’ve trapped me with the threat of a safari guide out in the ballroom, you have another think coming. I own this man. He’s mine by right of conquest.” “No, no,” her uncle whined, still hoping for reprieve. “I’ve paid my debt to her. I’ve been punished enough, often with the whip on my bare back and...and buttocks. You have no idea the sort of humiliations she has inflicted on me. Please, Sieur, she needs to let me go.” “I won’t. You’re mine, MonOncle...until death do us part.” She twirled that same hand in air, rebuffing any possibility of change or redemption. “There’s nothing you can do for him,” she declared, seeing the seigneur settle his hand on the doorknob and click the latch open, as if to leave. “The power of the seigneurs has long since passed,” she added mightily. “Your time is over.” Watching him push the door outward, suddenly revealing the backlit silhouette of a person who had been outside the whole time, she quavered, “Who’s that? Who are you letting in?” Expecting the worst, she backed away from her uncle, separating herself from him. “No. No! MaTante Em!”"   Wulfenstraat13 Comments: 2 Commented on Mar 22, 2023 "You're welcome. This is an excerpt from "Nowhere and Nowhither Tales", with a publication date of 2024 “Don’t argue, MonOncle. You will ~ and I emphasize ‘you will’ ~ present yourself.” “No, no, JacQueline,” he whined, “It’s not time. Not yet.” The redhead curled her shoulders inwards and held her face down; with a quick step in her shin-tight gown, she disappeared into the shadows at the base of the column where her companion purposely kept himself out of sight, anonymous. While vaguely aware that she would be heard by the two on the balcony, she still raised her voice to show that she didn’t care if some American whore or French buffoon overheard. “You will be coming over to-morrow!” she repeated, pointing her gloved finger up the nostril of a tall gentleman, who was otherwise distinguished by silver-gray wings at his temples which, at once emphasizing his blue eyes, also served to complement the whiteness of his goatee. In sharp contrast, the short, full-bodied forty-year-old shrew was well-seasoned and well fed, even to an extraordinarily large bosom. Laying down the law to him, she said, “That’s final.” “No, no, JacQueline. What for?” “To discharge your duty.” She plucked at the fingertips of her long white gloves. “Am I clear?” “But JacQueline, I did it just Tuesday. I mean, we just did it Tuesday.” She turned completely away from him and, her chin held high, prepared to stride out into the light. “I’m home alone to-morrow, MonOncle; and you’re coming.” “This is just too short a notice, JacQueline.” “Do I have to insist, MonOncle? Should I scream?” In her shin-tight gown, she stepped out into the light where, showily, she finished plucking at her white gloves. “Then, if we are to avoid a spectacle ~ here, within the next few moments ~ I’m expecting you at my house to-morrow night. D’Accord?” He stepped up behind her and, in the shadows still, whispered in her ear, “I haven’t prepared.” She turned her head slightly to speak as discreetly. “Cancel whatever prior engagements you’ve made.” “Em is....” “With your wife?” she interrupted. “Especially if it’s with your wife. Or your boss? Him too. You know they’re not important. And, MonOncle...?” She paused, changing her tone, “Uncle Roy?” “Yes?” “If you don’t arrive by seven, I swear!” she threatened, reaching behind her for his crotch. In a flurry of fingers and thumb, she explored the silk-n-wool fabric in the low-hanging material of his trousers until, lighting on it, she traced the downward bent of his penis. When she slipped her hand further down and caught him by the balls, he huffed in surprise, his eyes too wide, his heels off the floor. When he hopped even higher to the balls of his feet, she pulled him stumbling towards her. He sniveled. He begged, “Please, JacQueline, not now. Not here.” Playing with his testicles, enjoying them in halter, she let out a little gasp of satisfaction. Then, reveling in ownership, she tipped her head back so that her eyes could travel across the groin-vault ceiling, where every rib was emblazoned in dazzling lights from the chandeliers. But she saw nothing of the outside world, nothing of the stars and sunbursts above, because the dark of her imagination was once again defining his penis from the base of his balls to the head of it, to the beady eye of it, which was already dripping so much pre-cum as to wet his trousers, enough to soak through to her fingertips, even under glove. “I can’t do this,” he said, his mouth dry to dust, rasping the words. “Not here. Em is down there.” “This is your moment, what you’ve been wanting, your great opportunity, MonOncle. This is when MaTante Em, even our friends and neighbors down there, can see you for who and what you are.” She jacked him up even higher on his toes, breaking a crease in his high-gloss loafers, before pulling him even closer with a hard tug. Feeling the center of attention, as if she were on stage in a dramatic production (though few were aware), she marveled at what she had dared out in public, even if her uncle were still anonymous in shadow. “This is really what you want, isn’t it? I can hear your heart beating faster? Is the fear in your heart weakening your knees? Will I make this happen for you, do you think?” She clutched his penis happily and swung it from side to side before squeezing it in her fist, trying so hard to squash it that a grimace marred her cocktail-party smile. “JacQueline,” he whined, though there was little change in his expression, not enough to reflect what torture he was made to bear, no abject horror showing on his face. With one more vicious yank, his niece tore her hand from his crotch; then, seeming all lady-like, she dabbed the one wet finger at the corner of her mouth, where her tongue could taste him. “I swear, MonOncle, if you don’t discharge your duty to-morrow, I will leave you in that cockcage...a month.”"   See All Comments | Add Comment

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