Before bringing the account of my time with a high priestess of sex to a close. I’d like to return to the very beginning of my sexual awakening and the starting point of all that was to follow. This event was the catalyst for many of my subsequent perversions that Rachel would help fulfil.
I’d had a very repressed childhood and was raised in a home where children should be seen and not heard. As a consequence, I’d witnessed very little intimacy between adults, and it had left me angry and insecure.
As I turned 18, I was young, strong, but sexually naive. I was about to start a career at sea, so this was to be my last full summer of freedom. I had therefore spent the whole day in the hills of NW Scotland. I was heading down to my car, hot, sweaty, and ready for a shower and a meal back at the hotel.
My car was parked in a forestry car park some way from any main roads or other people, or so I thought. As I approached the gate leading to the parking area, I saw another vehicle, a VW camper van carrying Irish number plates, parked at the opposite side of the graveled area. I hadn’t seen anyone else out on the hill, but as I headed towards my own vehicle, I thought no more of it.
As I removed my walking boots, I couldn’t help but hear noises from much further to my right. With my curiosity piqued, and in case someone was in trouble, I walked towards the sound, only to see a strong, muscular male ass thrusting backwards and forwards as its owner was clearly participating in and fully enjoying some outdoor lovemaking.
“Fuck me Fuck me harder!” a woman’s voice urged her only too willing partner to keep going at the task in hand.
I could just about make out from my fairly safe distance that she was making unofficial use of a wooden picnic table by lying on top of one with her legs wide open and a pair of panties wrapped around her right ankle. Perhaps this was normal practice in Eire? In Scotland, less so!
I’d never witnessed anything like this and was intrigued. My young dick began to thicken as I had my first voyeuristic experience, albeit from a distance. Whilst I was locked in on my first ever live sex show, I must have taken in other elements around me. Over and above the grunts and moans, my senses registered the sound of a babbling brook, bird song, and the tangle of freshly bloomed summer heather in its full glory. All of these things are solid memories that I’ve built an association with this event, and outdoor summer sex in general.
I watched for a few more moments before discreetly withdrawing back towards my car. As I left the scene, things were obviously reaching a climax, as the last sound I heard was that of a close to orgasming lady encouraging one last effort from the owner of the dick deep inside her. I took one final look over my shoulder at an event frozen in time.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she wailed.
“Oh, my fucking sweet Jasus, I’m coming,” her lover grunted in reply.
I didn’t see or hear any more, so the rest is to be imagined. I sat in my own car, beating my engorged cock furiously, as the couple returned to their camper van, looking for all the world as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. For a moment, they stopped and looked across at my vehicle, perhaps wondering what, if anything, I’d seen or heard. As they turned away from me, I shot my load into my already sweaty underwear. For a brief moment in time, the watcher had become the watched. I’d see and experience much more hedonistic sexual activity during a life at sea. However, there is nothing like the first time, and the memories of that day are still clear in my mind.
Please keep the above in mind regarding how I let Rachel treat me at times. I am sure our relationship was unconventional to some readers: All I can say is it worked for both of us.
Fast forward to 2003. The year started well; Rachel and I finally felt like a couple. I was spending lots of time with her girls, and life in the main felt good. The only elephant in the room was ‘Tom’.
We had talked about him a few times, and in early February, probably against my better judgment, it was time to confront him and his very large dick; head-on, so to speak.
I was due to go away with Rachel and her girls for the half-term holidays. So, agreeing to a 3sum with Tom was my way of winning some brownie points.
We met as usual on Tuesday, and with time of the essence, Rachel took no time at all in getting her ageing lover stripped and rock hard. I can still see the bloody thing in my mind’s eye to this day. It was like a flagpole made of flesh standing tall, proud, and very long at an angle of 45 degrees.
I was soon beckoned over and requested to remove my jeans and boxer shorts. I did as requested, but I now admit to feeling very underprepared for what was to follow, along with being extremely conscious of my underendowment compared to what Rachel was clinging onto for dear life with her other hand.
“I am not sure I can do this,” I had to admit.
“At least try for all our sakes,” Rachel urged.
I am ashamed to report that I did try, but to no avail. I couldn’t get fully aroused or maintain an erection either. In the end, I said,
“I’m out, can’t do this, sorry.”
Rachel’s angry reply was,
“Don’t expect anything later as I will be ruined down there after he’s done.”
With that, she took Tom by the hand and led him to the guest bedroom. The last thing I remember was watching his giant penis wobbling in front of him as they walked towards the doorway.
For the next hour or so, I sat eating breakfast muesli as Rachel and Tom made all the noises of a porn film shoot a few doors down the hall. Eventually, it stopped, and after a few minutes, a sheepish-looking silver cocksman came through the living room, nodded to me, and left via the back door. No pun intended.
After what seemed like an age, but in all probability was only a few moments. Rachel came out dressed only in her bathrobe.
“You’ve embarrassed me yet again.” She growled whilst her no doubt well-pawed tits wobbled like blancmanges.
She then said, “Summer house for a thrashing or with me for a forfeit, you decide?”
It felt like Déjà vu all over again. I protested strongly that, in my view, neither was warranted.
This really turned up the gas on her temper, as I was told.
“Listen, my house, my rules on certain elements of our life. Now, I will ask you again, spanking or forfeit?”
I really wasn’t happy. However, as they say, love is blind, and my overwhelming desire was to please her. I’d already been on the receiving end of her thick leather strap on numerous occasions, and let me tell you, it left its mark!
Therefore, I elected to forfeit in the hope it would hurt less. I followed her into the bathroom as directed.
Removing her robe, Rachel told me to,
“Lie down on the floor.”
She then placed a rolled-up towel under my head.
The tiled floor felt cold on my skin, and I had to admit that naively, I had no idea what was about to happen next.
Rachel squatted over me, kneeled with one leg on either side of my head, before commanding me to, “Drink.”
With her recently ruined pussy hovering inches above me, she began to pee lustily over my face and into my mouth.
I must admit, despite the shock, the experience wasn’t unpleasant. The liquid was warm and had a taste to it that I’d come to know well over the next few years.
After I’d caught the last few droplets, Rachel said,
“Let’s shower together, and then you can help prepare dinner.”
And with that, the switch from sexual dominatrix to mother and homemaker was flicked back to normal.
This kind of behaviour would set the tone of our relationship going forward. I was learning that Rachel carried a ‘dark passenger’ with her on the journey through life. In some cultures, this was also referred to as the ‘dark rider’ or ‘shadow person’.
They all referred to the dark side of our personalities. The logic being that we kept our dark side hidden and in check. However, occasionally the hidden side would need to take control for a while and become the dominant part of one’s actions and behaviours. The fact that I was either drinking pee or getting a dozen strokes or more of the thick leather strap most weeks suggested that maybe Rachel’s dark side was indulged more often than most people allowed theirs.
Over the next few months, as Rachel broadened her horizons, I’d feel the cutting pain of a 36-inch Raton cane on my bare behind. Following a caning, quite often my humiliation would be compounded by the use of a butt plug or anal beading. It appears that I was being prepared for a future pegging irrespective of my own views on male anal penetration. Of which I had no experience.
In the main, though, life was good. I got on ever so well with Rachel’s daughters. I did my share of ferrying them about, minding the shop if their mum was on a late shift. It was nice to be part of a family again. I even noticed that with Rachel having me around, the girls’ behaviour improved with fewer visits to the summer house for them, if not me.
Over the summer months and into early autumn, my transition from adult male in Rachel’s sissy sub continued at a fair old pace.
I was thrashed almost weekly, twice per week on occasion. My legs and buttocks were very muscular back then, and as a consequence, I had very little fat to cushion those stinging blows of the strap or whistling, sizzling hell from her cane. I was permanently sore and quite likely bruised as well.
Things came to a conclusion one weekend in September.
Rachel decided to have a party for some of her friends from work and the gym. Probably around 8 people in total, and all female.
I agreed to do the cooking, run the bar, and be on hand to ensure everyone was well fed, watered, and provided for.
The night was, as you may expect from a group of confident, outgoing women, both raucous, drunken, and very loud. I worked my socks off as promised and was therefore totally unprepared for the events that began to unfold as the night reached its climax.
I was clearing the tables out in the yard as most people had moved indoors.
Rachel came over to me, grabbed my arm, and whispered in my ear,
“You’ve been embarrassing yourself in front of my friends. How dare you constantly stare at their tits instead of waiting on us?”
“But I haven’t I protested. Even though some of the cleavage on show is major league epic.”
That comment flipped the temper switch. Dragging me towards the summer house, she threatened me with the thrashing of my lifetime.
“Trousers and pants down and bend over double quick.”
“Fucks sake, Rach, not again.” I protested.
“Right, we will do this another way.” I was quickly told.
She went into the cottage and came out with 2 of her closest friends.
“Kneel down over there.” I was instructed.
With that, Rachel marched over to me, lifted her dress, and began to pee through her panties on my face and upper body. I was drenched and totally humiliated.
“Who’s next?” Rachel asked of her smirking companions.
“Me please, I’m bloody busting,” requested Ann, her oldest and closest friend.
Rachel must have seen the look of horror on my face as my eyes pleaded for clemency.
“I’ve had a better idea. Why don’t you both piss on him at once?” Rachel cruelly taunted.
And that’s what happened. Both ladies, if I can call them that, removed their jeans and panties before using me as a human urinal. I was soaked, from head to toe. I had pee in my hair, eyes, mouth, and running down my neck and shoulders. After everyone was done and had redressed, the tension in the room was palpable.
“Give me 5 minutes with HIM,” Rachel requested of her friends.
Once they had gone, she kissed me full on the lips despite the mess I was in.
“I’m proud of you, lad.” She told me.
“You took that well and will be rewarded later, after everyone has gone. The girls even commented earlier how well your training was progressing.”
She then said, “Go shower, and we will finish tidying up.”
That reward turned out to be a maternal suckling on each giant breast as Rachel slowly teased and tugged my cock to a messy orgasm in my pants. This I was to learn would become one of her ‘favourite’ treats going forward.
And that is how I sleepwalked into becoming Rachel’s plaything. Over the next few years, I’d be used, abused, humiliated, and shared. I was required to suck Tom’s dick whilst Rachel acted as the choreographer. I was spanked by Rachel, Tom, and Ann at will. I was peed on by any number of friends selected by Rachel as worthy of the task. On one occasion, I drank so much pee in one sitting that my stomach bulged from its watery content. Once per month, Rachel would even insist that she give me an enema followed by a very painful pegging with her big strap-on cock. If I’d really pissed her off, then it would be a saltwater enema to add to my discomfort. These are just examples of some of the discomfort and humiliation I felt over the years. Other much worse ‘punishments’ were administered by a woman whose ‘dark passenger’ appeared to have no moral boundaries when it came to matters of sex and domination.
However, in return for my pain and suffering, I received the love of a strong, attractive, and very desirable woman. I was given a home, my own private nurse to advise me on health issues, a family, and, to be honest, I’d never felt as needed and secure in all my life.
I even helped move Rachel’s eldest daughter up to Durham University, along with settling her in at the halls of residence. The warden of the said establishment even commented on what a polite and vivacious daughter I had. The nicest thing of all was that his mistake wasn’t corrected by either of us.
We just giggled afterwards as the new student asked, “Do I need to call you daddy now?”
Then out of the blue, cancer came calling. Rachel fought this terrible illness in her usual head-on style.
However, this was no ordinary foe. This was the Great White Shark of diseases.
I had to watch the woman, whom I loved with all of my heart, slowly fade away. We’d had a symbiotic relationship, and soon it would end.
Rachel died in Spring 2008, a few months before her 40th birthday. She passed away surrounded by her family, me included.
My life has never been the same since. I’ve drifted from one bad relationship to another. I’ve never found a place to call home and have woken up hungover in more strange places than I could ever describe.
It is said we all have a public life, a private life, and a secret life. This was our story, and I feel unburdened with sharing it.
I still visit Rachel’s grave in Yorkshire from time to time. To any passing observer, the unassuming grave just depicts the sad passing of another person taken before their time. To those who really knew her, it barely does justice to an insatiable sexual cougar with a loving, caring, and compassionate heart of gold. I will never forget her or meet anyone who fired my soul in quite the same way. I hope we meet one day again.
