It was about nine o’clock on a Saturday morning when Jake was roused from sleep by his phone ringing. He had played a gig last night and he would have normally slept till around noon.

“Good morning, Jake,” said a sultry female voice. “Do you know who this is?” He thought for a moment. A number of women could be playing this sort of game with him. He decided it would be best to say he didn’t know, rather than give the wrong name and cause any jealousy. “It’s Raven. Do you remember me?” she asked in a taunting way.

“Yes, of course I remember you,” he said.

A few weeks ago he had met Raven at a gig and had gone home with her, thinking it would be another one night stand. Instead, she had tricked him and he ended up chained at her feet, being punished with a whip and a paddle for sleeping with one of her friends and not calling her back. It had been a humiliating yet strangely arousing experience. His body had been sore for over a day afterwards and he had been leery about taking home women home from gigs since then. She had probably gotten his phone number from her friend.

“Are you alone, or did you have one of your groupie sluts over last night?” she asked in her usual blunt way. Jake told her he was alone. She interrogated him further about his plans for the day but all that Jake had scheduled was another night playing with his band. Raven asked him if he’d like to come over to her house for the day. “I could use your services,” she said in a seductive tone. Jake vaguely remembered where she lived so she quickly gave him directions, told him to be over in exactly one hour and then hung up.

Jake hung up the phone and got out of bed. He was mind was still fuzzy from sleep and he was surprised that Raven would want to have him over. There was no reason he could think of why she would want to punish him so he felt it was safe to go over, but he still thought he should be on guard. She was very demanding but if it was sex that she wanted, Jake was sure that he could satisfy her.

He showered and had a quick bite to eat. She didn’t live very far away and he pulled in the driveway of her townhouse right on time. Jake didn’t think it would be smart to show up a minute late or early. As he walked up to the front door he saw that it was slightly open. He was about to walk in, but thought about it for a moment. Remembering that Raven was tricky, he rang the doorbell instead. He heard it chime off in the distance inside her house. There was no answer. After waiting a while, he pushed the door open cautiously.

“Raven?” He called out. “It’s Jake.” He stepped inside, peeking behind the door as he did. He closed the door behind him and as he walked from the foyer into the living room, he heard the clicking of high heels behind him and the solid chunking sound of the front door being locked. As he turned around he realized that Raven had been hiding in a small bathroom off to the side of the front door.

“Hello, Jake,” she said with a devious smile. “I’m so glad you could come over.” Raven was decked out in black leather. She was wearing what looked like the same form fitting lace up vest as the last time, with long gloves that went just past her elbows. Her tight leather pants looked as if they had been painted on and they disappeared inside the tops of spike heeled boots that rose almost up to her knees, and in one hand she held the dreaded riding crop.

“Why do you look so alarmed?” she taunted him as she walked slowly towards him. Jake didn’t know what to do.

“Raven, there’s no reason to punish me. Please, put the whip down,” he was surprised that his voice had practically trailed off to a whimper.

“Oh Jake, you poor boy,” she said and slowly reached out her riding crop and gently caressed his cheek with the tip of it. “I’m not going to punish you. Unless you give me a reason to.” She added sternly. “Take off your clothes,” she ordered. Jake didn’t even think and quickly stripped down to his bikini briefs, leaving his clothing in a sloppy pile on the carpet. “Take that off too,” she commanded, lightly striking the bulge in his shorts with the crop. Once Jake was completely naked Raven told him to get on his knees. “Did you lie to me about being free all day?” Raven asked.

“No,” Jake answered meekly.

“I told you I could use your services. Now what do think I meant by that?” she asked.

“Uh, sex?” whispered Jake. Raven gave a deep mocking laugh.

“A slut boy like you isn’t worthy of getting into bed with me. I have other plans. As long as you do what I say, we’ll get along just fine. Now go downstairs to my playroom,” she commanded and pointed her riding crop at what Jake knew was the basement door.

Jake got up and was evidently walking too slowly towards the door because Raven struck him on ass with her crop. He hurried down the stairs, Raven taking her time, high heels clicking menacingly on the treads.

The finished basement room was just as he remembered it. The pool table, the bar. fethiye escort He cast a nervous glance at the brass foot rail at the base of the bar which he had been handcuffed to the last time he was here. Her bag of toys was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t ease his mind.

“Put this on,” he heard her say and he spun around just in time to catch a small piece of black leather. It was a thong. As Jake pulled it on he found that the waist strap was just his size but the pouch was very small and Raven insisted that he get all of his partially erect cock inside it. “You might as well put it away since you won’t need it for anything other than going to the bathroom today,” she said. Ordering him on his knees once again, she reached behind the bar and got a wide spiked leather collar and put it around his neck. “Now you’re my slave boy,” she said. “You know what I have in mind for you?” she asked.

“You’re going to punish me?” Jake asked.

“You’re really stupid,” Raven said and lightly slapped his cheek. “I told you that I wouldn’t punish you unless you gave me a reason to. As long as you obey me for the rest of the day, you’ll be fine. If you don’t, then you’ll be playing your guitar tonight with a sore ass. Good thing you don’t sit down while you play,” she laughed. “Now, you’ve been pretty obedient so far, but perhaps I should remind you what will happen if you displease me.”

Jake told her that he knew very well what would happen, but he did as Raven commanded and bent over the pool table so she could strike him on the buttocks ten times with her crop. He flinched in pain with each stroke, and just when he thought it was over she hit him on the backs of his thighs several times.

“Now,” she said. “Get back on your knees and I’ll show you what I have in mind.” Jake watched with dread as Raven walked across the room to a set of louvered wooden doors. As she pulled them open slowly, Jake was surprised to see a washer and dryer with laundry baskets piled on them. “You can breath now, slave. I don’t know what you were expecting back here,” she said.

Raven asked Jake a number of questions about doing laundry and once she was satisfied that he knew how to sort clothing and run the machines she told him to get to work and join her upstairs when the first load was in.

There were four baskets of clothing and as Raven had suggested it was easiest to sort them on the pool table. As he did so, he thought about his situation. Once again, Raven had tricked him. His car keys and clothes were upstairs so he couldn’t just run away. Although he was somewhat afraid of Raven, he believed that she was telling the truth and would let him go in time to make it to his gig that night. He suspected that if she had him doing laundry right now, she might have other domestic chores planned for him. If that was the case it wouldn’t be that tough, although knowing Raven the little that he did, he was sure that he would end up taking some punishment before it was all over and that made him a little uneasy.

Jake also thought that spending the day at her house might enable him to learn more about her, and even though she said he was not worthy of getting in bed with her, he would have all day to try and work his charm on her.

After going through all the baskets, Jake was a little surprised that there weren’t any bras or panties in them. He couldn’t figure that out. Most of her clothes were the sort of thing a lady would wear to the office, and the others were sweats for working out at a gym. This didn’t surprise him because she had a fantastic body.

Before starting the washing machine he peeked behind the bar where she had gotten his collar. There was a small refrigerator below the bar and open shelves with glasses and utensils on them, but nothing out of the ordinary. Once the washing machine was started he went upstairs.

Raven was lounging on her sofa and she ordered Jake to crawl across the floor and kneel in front of her. As he did so, he noticed that his clothes were nowhere to be seen. Raven rested one of her spike heeled boots on his shoulder.

“Did you notice that I didn’t leave any of my underwear down there?” she asked. Jake nodded. “I thought it would distract you and get you in trouble, so I’ll do that myself later.” Raven then gave him what seemed like a well rehearsed speech. She told him that she had a number of household chores for him to do that day and although she wouldn’t be constantly looking over his shoulder, she would be supervising his work. Late afternoon she would evaluate the quality of his services and punish him for any sloppiness or work not completed. Jake should not try to engage her in any conversation unless he needed more work to do, and at those times he should address her as Mistress Raven. Jake would be required to ask permission to use the bathroom and if she caught him masturbating he would be very sorry.

Raven decided that he would alanya escort clean one floor at a time, starting with her basement playroom, as she called it. Without getting up from the sofa, she told him where the vacuum cleaner and dust cloths were and she told him to get busy. She added that she expected him to do a quick, yet thorough job. Without saying a word, Jake took the equipment downstairs.

From what he had seen so far, Raven lived very cleanly. It really didn’t take him much time to clean the playroom and laundry closet. He didn’t find anything interesting except for two dirty glasses in the small sink behind the bar. One had traces of her lipstick on it. Jake wasn’t sure if these were left over from his visit a few weeks ago, or if she had another guest since then. There was nothing to clean them with so after checking over the downstairs one last time, he took them up to the kitchen.

Raven was not in the living room and he thought he heard typing on a computer upstairs.

“Mistress Raven,” he called up the stairs, finding the title Mistress to be a bit awkward and silly at the same time.

“Come up here, slave,” she ordered. At the top of the stairs was a short hallway. He could see through an open doorway that the front room was her bedroom, there was a bathroom in the middle, and the back bedroom had been set up as an office. Some paperwork was spread out on the desk and she was working on a spreadsheet on her computer. It looked a little silly to see her dressed in her leather outfit doing office work, but he didn’t dare say so.

Jake tried to see what type of work she was doing while he stood in the doorway but before long she was giving him a list of things to do on the first floor and telling him where things were located. One thing she expected him to do was water some plants out back. When he asked if he could at least put on his jeans before going outside she just laughed at him. Jake humbly went downstairs.

The combination living room dining room was cleaned as easily as the basement. There wasn’t any mail or magazines lying around with her name on them. Jake did wonder if Raven was her real first or last name. The kitchen sink was partially full of dishes, which he put in the dishwasher and switched it on. Although the kitchen and small downstairs bathroom were clean, he took special care in wiping things down and mopping the floors because he thought these things might be checked more thoroughly.

After putting another load of clothes in the washing machine Jake started to get a little frustrated. He was doing all this housework which was simple, but rather boring. Since he wasn’t allowed to speak to Raven unless it was work related, his chances of sweet talking her into bed did not look good. Although he wasn’t having much fun, there didn’t seem to be much he could do about it. Raven’s presence was so intimidating and he felt helpless against her. All he could think of to do was finish out the day as her slave and never come back again.

He was about to go up to her office for another work assignment when he remembered about watering the plants in the back. One wall of the living room had a sliding glass door covered with a flowing translucent curtain. Jake pushed back the curtain and peeked outside.

There was a small patio in the back with a number of potted flowers and plants on metal stands. There were privacy fences that screened it from the neighboring patios on either side, but the rear of the patio was wide open. Across the lawn was the side of another condo building. The side of that building didn’t have any windows, making Raven’s patio reasonably private, but he could see that there was a sidewalk beside the other building and he hoped that no one would walk by while he was outside.

It was early in the spring but still a little cool outside, especially if you are barefooted on a concrete patio and wearing only a thong and a collar. He found the watering can in a storage box on one side of the patio and filled it at the faucet beside the sliding glass door. As he was watering plants at the rear edge of the patio he looked up at Raven’s office window. The sunlight was reflecting on the glass and he could not tell if she was watching him or not. Jake also realized at that time that the patio was in plain view of her neighbors’ second floor windows on either side. Although he felt very confident of his body, he was very uncomfortable being almost naked on the patio.

As Jake was finishing up, he heard a noise and turned to see a man with curly brown hair walking a golden retriever down the sidewalk. The man only gave Jake a brief glance but walked on by without slowing down. Perhaps stranger things had been seen on Raven’s patio.

Raven was calling Jake from the top of the stairs when he went back inside. When he went to her office she told him to fix her some lunch and bring it to her. She told him what to make and where manavgat escort everything was located. Jake was told he could fix a lunch for himself but he should eat quickly downstairs and get back to work.

As she was giving Jake directions, his eyes wandered around her office. He noticed that there weren’t any photos around of friends and family, which he thought was odd, but he did see a stack of opened envelopes, perhaps bills, in a bin on one corner of the desk. If he got only a minute alone in the office he thought he could at least learn her full name.

The kitchen was small but functional and it didn’t take long for Jake to fix the lunches. He took Raven’s upstairs and then went back to the kitchen to eat his. At this time, the telephone rang. He knew better than to answer it, but he saw part of the phone on the wall light up and he realized that it was a caller I.D. display. Curious, he went over to look at the name. Smith, and then a local phone number. Raven had picked up the phone upstairs and although he couldn’t hear any of the conversation, from the tone in her voice he figured it must be one of her girlfriends.

There was a pad of paper and a pen on the kitchen counter. Jake thought about writing Smith’s phone number down, although he wasn’t sure what he would do with it, and he couldn’t just put the piece of paper in his pocket for later. He tore the top sheet off the note pad, wrote down the phone number of Raven’s friend, and then stashed the slip of paper under the silverware holder in the top kitchen drawer. He planned to smuggle it out later if possible, and if that was not possible he would be long gone before Raven would find it. Jake was quite pleased with his plan.

She was on the phone with Smith for quite a while. In fact she was still talking when Jake had finished his lunch and went upstairs for more work. Raven’s plate was empty on the desk and he took the initiative to pick it up.

“Slave,” Raven said without covering the mouthpiece on the phone. “Wait for me outside my office after you take those dishes downstairs.” Then she was back to her phone conversation, laughing with her friend, probably on Jake’s behalf.

When he got back upstairs he only had to wait a moment before Raven hung up the phone. She told him to get a few items from the vanity in her bedroom. Nail polish, file, and other related items.

When Jake returned to her office, Raven had pushed her chair away from the desk. She had removed her long gloves earlier to do work on the computer and as Jake knelt beside her chair she held out her hands to show him her nails. Raven explained that she normally got professional manicures on a regular basis but she hadn’t had time this month because of her busy work schedule. Jake took the opportunity to ask Raven what kind of work she did.

“I told you not to speak to me unless it’s related to a task I’ve given you,” Raven scolded. She quickly snatched her riding crop up off the desk.

“No! Please,” Jake begged, but he submitted when Raven ordered him to bend over the desk. She severely thrashed his buttocks for several minutes until they were a deep red. Raven sat back down, obviously annoyed at being interrupted by her slave.

She continued explaining that she expected Jake to remove the slightly flaked polish from her nails, do a little trimming and filing, and then repaint them with another shade of polish.

“I’m very particular about my nails,” Raven said. “Even if you’ve never done this before I’m going to make sure you do it right, or I’ll whip your ass again.”

Jake was afraid of making mistakes and so he was a little shaky. Raven was delighted at the fear she had instilled in him. The only part Jake had trouble with was the nail polish. It either came out too thick or required too many brushstrokes, which Raven thought was sloppy and insisted on them being redone. The second hand was a little bit easier to do.

Jake thought that Raven would give him a list of chores to do upstairs next. Instead, she told him to remove her boots. She placed one spike heeled boot quite heavily in his lap as he was kneeling in front of her, and he slowly unzipped it. Removing her boot, he saw that her tight black leather pants were nicely tapered to just above her ankles. Raven wore tiny white cotton ankle socks on her feet and Jake thought they looked rather silly with the leather pants. She quickly ordered him to take off her socks.

As Jake was about to set the socks aside, Raven instructed him to hold them up tightly to his nose and breathe deeply. Jake inhaled the musky aroma of warm leather and light sweat. He found it strangely arousing and his cock tried to straighten out in the confines of his skimpy thong.

“Oh, do you like the way that smells, Jake?” Raven asked, noticing Jake’s straining member.

“Yes, Mistress Raven,” he answered softly through the cotton. She then held one foot up to his face and ordered him to kiss it, which he did without hesitation. Raven had Jake kiss her feet all over and suck on her toes. He found this very exciting, especially when Raven began stroking one foot along the bulging pouch of his thong.

Just when Jake thought he would explode, Raven commanded him to trim and then paint her toenails. She was obviously satisfied at Jake’s sexual frustration.

TWO

Several days later Bridget returned home from shopping, after I had returned home from work. She had stopped by her office before going on what was obviously a shopping spree. She had a multitude of bags and sent me to fetch them for her out of the car.

I had already prepared dinner, as she had instructed per her note left on the kitchen counter. Bridget didn’t say much but took her bags to the master bedroom and returned in a robe and a what appeared to be a new pair of heels, the medium-height kind that you imagined women wore around the house. I could see her thick bush underneath her silk robe. I started getting a hardon, thinking about fucking her. Despite the changes in our relationship, my wife still got me hot. And as much as I hated to admit it, the recent changes had turned me on in a way I never expected.

We had dinner and the topic of conversation was getting the kids out of the house and on to college and on their own, out of the house permanently, to put it bluntly. Which is what Bridget was prone to do of late. She told me before we finished that I was to join her in the bedroom when I finished the dishes. Then she left the table for the veranda for a glass of wine and a cigarette before going upstairs to our bedroom.

It dawned on me why Bridget had arranged for our son and daughter to go away over the summer before they started college. She had obviously planned this for quite some time. I wondered when this whole scenario had germinated itself in her head, what prompted her to do it.

Bridget was already in the bedroom when I finished the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. She was organizing and looking over her purchases. She turned momentarily to look at me and all she said was, “strip.”

I got undressed and waited for her, standing there, bashfully, my cock starting to get hard. When she was finally finished with her things she sat down on the chest at the end of the bed and lit a cigarette, looking me over a bit before she spoke.

“Bitch, I know you’ve disobeyed me, jerked off without permission,” she said sultrily, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

I began to protest my innocence, but she was having none of it.

“I’m not going to beat your ass tonight because I didn’t catch you in the act,” she countered. “I’m trying to be fair here, not a tyrannical cunt, but I certainly can be, if you want. So here’s the deal: you’re going in chastity tonight. I planned to do this when I’m away but we might as well begin now. You’ll also be shaved. I want you hairless. And I’ve decided to modify your wardrobe a little,” she smirked.

I stood and listened. I was afraid to say anything. I waited for her to speak again.

“So, let’s get started!” she said with wicked enthusiasm. She had me stand before her and spread my legs. She shaved my cock and balls, and not gently so, before she turned me around and shaved my ass. She commented as she worked that I was getting semi-erect, but for someone who hadn’t cum in four days I wasn’t leaking any precum, which confirmed her suspicions. She then rubbed my body with a smelly, nasty depilatory and made me wait the fifteen minutes until it took full effect before sending me to shower.

When I’d finished and dried off my body was slick and hairless. I felt a little emasculated. Bridget told me to come to her and she took my cock and balls in her hands roughly. She took something out of a box and slid a plastic device on my cock and locked it behind my balls. It was very snug. She put me on my knees before she continued.

“Now, you can piss but you can’t pleasure yourself. Or fuck anyone else,” she explained. “By the way, I better not see you ever peeing standing up. You squat to pee from now on. I’ll decide when you will have this taken off and you can pleasure yourself. Let’s get to the rest of the rules I’m instituting to keep you in line. But I’ll let you ask any questions you want at the moment. Ask away, while you can.”

“Why are you doing all this? I’ve never cheated on you and I think I’ve been a good husband and father for our children,” I said in a pathetic, submissive and pleading voice.

Bridget lit another cigarette before she answered and enjoyed a long drag. “Bitch,” she began, exhaling a cloud of smoke upward, “I’ve already explained this to you. I don’t like to repeat myself. I will whip your ass if you make me do it again. Now what else do you want to ask, I’m getting tired and bored, and I want my cunt licked before I go to bed.”

I hesitated to ask anything else, but I had to know. “Where is all this going?” I asked meekly.

Bridget looked at me for several moments before she answered, smoking and ruminating on my question and her answer.

“I’m not entirely sure. I haven’t planned the entire journey yet, but I know a general direction. I’m not leaving you, as long as you behave and do what I tell you to do. So relax and enjoy,” she smiled wickedly. “Now I’m through with questions for the night. Time to get on zonguldak escort with the rest of our business tonight.” I waited, kneeling before her.

“You’ll sleep in the guest room from now on,” she continued. “I’ll be putting the house on the market soon, so we can downsize to a more reasonable place. You’ll be responsible for all the mundane details of arranging movers and such. I already have a place in mind, once we sell this house. In two weeks I’ll be taking a little vacation, alone. You will stay here and you will behave. And believe me, I’ll know if you fuck up. Don’t test me. Do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am,” I said, my head spinning a little.

“Good boy,” she said, almost smiling. “Now, two more things. You will be taking early retirement or arranging to work from home. I want you at my beck and call 24/7, and along with that, I’m going to change your wardrobe a little. You’ll notice on the bed in the guest bedroom several items. These are what you’ll wear, for now, under your street clothes. Oh, and you’re going to be pierced and marked as my property. You may be my husband, but you are my chattel, now,” she said harshly. “Do you understand?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t entirely amenable to putting up with this, not at all. I remained silent.

Bridget bitch-slapped me again. “I asked, ‘do you understand?!'”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.” she lit another cigarette and spread her legs, exposing herself to me. “Get over here and lick my cunt before I retire for the evening.”

It didn’t take long to satisfy her. She was very wet, and obviously very excited. I licked her and sucked her cunt until she couldn’t take anymore. Then she sent me to my room, closing her bedroom door behind me.

In my new room I found two shopping bags on the bed and a lengthy note with instructions from Bridget.

“pussyslave,

In your shopping bags you’ll find what I expect you to wear under your street clothes: -Panties -chemise -stockings

Do try to color coordinate. I don’t have time to dress you.

At home you will wear only a robe, stockings and your maribou slippers. N panties. You will sleep nude.

You will follow the additional instructions attached along with a daily schedule.

Your Bitch Wife Bridget”

The rest of the note explained new house rules, mostly mundane, about chores and so forth, along with a daily schedule — breakfast in bed, dinner time, daily shaving of her pussy, drawing her bath water, etc.

I threw the note on the nightstand set the bags on the floor. I was angry and depressed. I slipped downstairs quietly and poured myself a stiff drink, straight vodka out of the freezer. I was trying to drink myself into a stupor so I could sleep. I poured myself another before I returned to bed. I could hear Bridget talking to someone, but couldn’t make out the conversation. I set my alarm and went to bed, naked of course.

My alarm went off too early and I was exhausted from a fitful night deprived mostly from sleep. My head ached a little from the vodka. I looked at my shopping bags and rummaged through them for panties, stockings and the shoes. The idea of dressing for Bridget didn’t completely turn me off. I could indulge her for now. It was pretty harmless.

My slippers fit perfectly. I wondered how she got them in my size. My feet were not small. The stockings actually felt nice, a pair of dark seamed stocking thigh-highs. There were at least a dozen pairs of panties, but true to my instructions, I left them and slipped on one of the silk robes in the bag. I went downstairs to make breakfast for Bridget and brought it to her on a tray to her bedroom. I knocked on the door and waited for her to answer.

“Come in,” she said after what seemed like an eternity of waiting outside the door of what was formerly my bedroom. “Well, don’t you make a pretty, sexy little housewife,” she smirked. I didn’t react outwardly. Inside I was mortified, to tell the truth and turned on at the same time.

Bridget had me stand next to the bed while she had breakfast. She inspected my cock and balls and the chastity device. She reminded me that I was to keep myself slick and hairless — completely. After breakfast I would give her her daily pussy trim and shave.

“We’re going out later,” she informed me. “We have things to take care of. You’ll drive me. Draw my bath in half and hour and be ready yourself in one hour. Don’t forget your wardrobe. You’ll wear slacks and a dress shirt for our business today. Now, take the tray and clean up.” Bridget lit a cigarette and smoked in bed as I left for the kitchen.

When Bridget came down ready to go out, she looked stunning. She was wearing a pencil skirt, stiletto pumps and a beater that showed off her still-amazing rack, and a jacket. She gave me an address and I drove her there, using the GPS in the car.

We pulled into a rather seedy shopping center. She told me to follow her and we went into a bursa escort tattoo and piercing parlor. I wondered what was going on, dreading what this might be. Was she going to follow through on what she had said before?

She told me to wait in the lobby — if you could call it that – while she spoke to the girl at the desk. I couldn’t hear what they said but in a moment the girl, replete with tattoos and piercings on all exposed skin, took Bridget into another section of the tattoo parlor. In a while she opened the door and told me to come back with her.

“You’ll be here for several hours for your procedures, so I’ll be back when they’re finished,” she said and promptly left.

I had no idea what was going on, sitting here in what was something similar to a medical examination room. In a moment a man and two women walked in, both about mid-thirties.

“Well, let’s get started, then,” the man said without introduction or fanfare. “You’ll need to strip down naked for what Bridget asked us to do.”

I was mortified. I’m sure I turned beet red, my face was hot. I began to protest but the man was having none of it. “Dude, you’re getting this, whether you like it or not, your lady already paid for it,” he said. “I don’t want to have to hogtie you for this, that would be fun, but I really don’t have time for it. But if you insist, I will hogtie your ass and do what she asked for.”

He was no small man, but his tone and demeanor told me even more so he meant business. Not to mention he looked like a very rough character, with tattoos everywhere, like a tough biker. His counterparts were a contrast between one another. One looked like a biker chick, the other was a very attractive lady, elegant even. She could have been a model, although she was rather petite for that kind of work. I wondered why it took three of them.

I reluctantly stripped, slowly. All of them grinned brutally when they saw me in panties, stockings and a chemise. Biker chick told me those have to come off, too. While I slowly stripped Biker man and Biker Chick talked as if I were not there, discussing this and that, some things that meant nothing to me, but what did stick in my mind was that not only was I apparently getting a tattoo, or maybe tattoos, I was also getting pierced. The model simply observed. She lit a cigarette while they began their work.

The man told me to bend over the table. Fortunately he was wearing latex gloves, as was Biker Chick now, when he began to touch me. I felt him drawing on my lower back, almost into the crack of my ass at one point. I felt like running away, but I was afraid of the consequences, one from this guy, and ultimately from Bridget. So I took it. When the needle started it hurt like hell. The tattoo was by no means small. It took Biker Man what seemed like ever to finish it. My lower back was nothing but dull, throbbing pain once he started. I tried to focus on other things, take my mind off the humiliating ordeal of getting a trampstamp.

I thought this might be all of it but then I remembered about the piercings I overheard. Biker Man told me to roll over and sit on the bench. He took my left foot in his hand and began putting a tattoo around my ankle. Biker Wench was there practically the whole time, doing her own thing and watching, too. She had an amused smirk on her face. The Model simply sat and watched the whole procedure, smoking from time to time. I wondered what her role was in all this.

When he finally finished my anklet tattoo, I shuddered to think what was next. About that time Bridget walked back into the room. She didn’t speak to me, but getting an update on my progress from biker man and biker wench. She seemed to know the Model, but they didn’t speak much. I wondered what the hell was going on.

“We saved the best for last,” biker wench said with a grin. She told me to spread my legs and Bridget used the key around her neck to unlock my chastity device. Biker wench had several things in her hand as she replaced Bridget between my legs. They turned out to be male chastity devices of a different design.

“I think we’ll have to go with a small or an extra-small,” she smirked.

“No doubt,” Bridget said, as she lit a cigarette. Biker wench placed it on me roughly. It was all metal, curving my cock down sharply but it was open at the end, leaving my cockhead exposed. It also diminished in diameter so that she had to pinch what little of my cockhead was able to get through and pull it through, so that my helmet expanded past the narrow opening. My new cock cage secured much like the old one, behind the balls but also had a ring to squeeze them down and keep them tight in my sac. It was snug, but not too tight when Bridget stepped forward again to place the lock on it.

Biker man left, his tattoo work finished, apparently. Thank God he didn’t take care of the chastity device, I thought. Despite my predicament, I was getting aroused, although malatya escort the cock cage prevented any reasonable chance of an erection.

Biker wench then told me to lean back on the bench. She brought over a piercing needle and several rings, each the same, with a little stone mounted in the center, along with two plain stud earrings, I assumed. I began getting very nervous. She began with my ears. The earlobes hurt, but the nipples hurt more. She put the studs in my ears and moved on to my nipples. The pain in my nipples was sharper but it was momentary before she quickly replaced the needle with the ring. I had to admit, she seemed very skilled at doing piercings.

Biker wench then grabbed the shaft of the cock cage. Suddenly I realized she was about to pierce my cock or balls. I gasped a little.

“Oh, please, no!” I looked at Bridget. “Please, no, this is too much!”

Bridget pulled biker wench aside so she could bitch-slap me. Then she grabbed my chin and looked straight into my eyes.

“You know the score,” Bridget said. “It’s my way or the highway.”

The Model was obviously enjoying this. She had a wicked grin on her face.

I nodded reluctantly. Biker wench stepped back between my legs and took my cock cage in her hand, roughly of course.

“Don’t move,” she warned me. She stabbed the needle horizontally through my cockhead and replaced it quickly with the ring. She put some sort of antibiotic cream on my nipples and cockhead before she finished. “All done,” said, looking at Bridget and the Model, grinning.

“Great, thank you,” Bridget answered. “Lovely work. Get dressed, pussyslave,” she said, turning to me.

“Thank you,” biker wench said grinning even more broadly. “I LOVE doing cock piercings, it’s such a rush.”

I was mortified. Where did Bridget find these people? I was feeling like I was in some weird, psychosexual “Twilight Zone” episode that just would not end. And who was the Model? Why was she there?

Bridget had me drive her to her salon for a style and a manicure and pedicure. She would be at least two hours, I knew this. I wondered what I was to do in the mean time. I soon found out.

“While I’m at the salon you’re to go to the department store and buy yourself these items, in your size. You’re to get assistance from one of the salesladies there. You will tell them that the items are for you and you need help with your sizes. I know the items are there, in your sizes, so don’t fuck with me on this. You will try them on, each and every one of them. And yes, I will know if you don’t follow my instructions to the letter,” she said.

I sat and stared out the car window. When does this nightmare end? I wondered.

“Do you understand me?” she asked, annoyed.

“Yes Ma’am,” was all I could muster in a monotone of resignation.

Bridget walked into the salon and I walked towards the department store. My piercings were starting to get irritated from my chemise underneath my shirt, and my throbbing cockhead was making me walk funny.

I looked at my list and walked gingerly to the lingerie department. I noticed a saleslady there, a lady a little younger than me. She was immaculately dressed.

“May I help you sir?” she asked me very professionally.

“Yes,” I said meekly. “I need to purchase some things, I have a list here,” reluctantly handing it to her.

She looked over the list quickly. “Do you know sizes? I’m sure we have everything you’re looking for,” she smiled.

“No, I don’t,” I said, sighing.

“Well, maybe you could describe your lady to me,” she said.

“They’re for me,” I said shyly, in almost a whisper. I”m sure I was beet red from my confession to this complete stranger.

“Hmm, hmm, hmm hmm,” she laughed quietly and smiled knowingly, looking at me over her reading glasses. She stepped closer to me and put her hand on my arm, rubbing it lightly. “Don’t you worry, Sweetie,” she said quietly with a condescending grin, “I’ve dressed plenty of sissies, we’re going to make you look and feel very feminine and pretty!”

She took out a measuring tape and measured my hips, waist and chest. She then walked me around taking things off the rack and leading me back to the dressing rooms. I was thankful there appeared to be only one other saleslady in the lingerie department and one customer, both of them engaged away from us and the dressing rooms. She walked inside with me and I gave her a look of shock and surprise.

“Now, relax, Sweetie,” she assured me, “like I’ve said, I’ve helped lots of sissies dress, there’s nothing wrong with it and you don’t need to be embarrassed or ashamed. Let’s get you undressed and try on some pretty things.”

I undressed hesitantly, knowing she was about to see me in my shame of being freshly tattooed and pierced, bound in chastity and feminized. I stood before her completely nude save my stockings. She smiled, as though to say “Oh what a sissy you are.” She helped me with my new lingerie outfits, two panty-bra-garter sets, three teddies and a frilly chemise that looked like a satin dress with a short hemline. She talked soothingly to me, encouraging me, trying to take the edge off the embarrassment and humiliation of revealing that my wife was both dominating and feminizing me.

Naked, I lay down on the bench. It was padded, covered with black leather. My head overhung the end of the bench, but was resting on a chair, having poked through the gap between the back and seat. The chair’s back legs were fastened to the legs of the bench with rope.

I looked up at the ceiling. A boring, plain white ceiling. Well I’d have something more interesting to look at soon enough. I saw her walk towards me, and lifting my head, I watched her walk to my side. She was naked too. She pulled my left arm out, and buckled a sturdy leather cuff to my wrist. This was attached to the side of the bench by a short steel chain. She reached across, over my chest, but couldn’t comfortably reach to do the other wrist, so she straightened up, and walked around to the other side. After securing my other wrist, she went to the end of the bench, and bound my ankles to cuffs attached to the bottom corners.

“Comfy?” she asked?

“I’m doing just fine” I replied.

“Good”, she said. “Now, what comes next?”

There was a pause, then, “Ah yes. I remember.”

I heard her feet padding out of the room, then a few moments later, she was back carrying a plastic bag. She put this down on my chest and pulled from it a ring gag, and a shiny satin leotard.

“Last chance to use your safeword” she said with a smile. I just shook my head.

“OK then.” she said. “Don’t forget you’ve got nobody but yourself to blame.”

She stretched out the strap of the ring gag, and put it over the crotch of the leotard, making sure it was centered before pushing the ring into my mouth. Then, lifting my head, she pulled the straps tight around the back of my head, and buckled them. She put a small padlock through the buckle. It closed with a small sharp click.

Then, she carefully climbed onto the chair and looking up, I found myself looking up between her legs. She loomed above me, the points of her breasts showing above the bulge of her stomach, and above that, a pretty face looking down at me, framed with blonde curls.

She put her feet through the leg holes of the leotard. I thought she’d put her foot over my nose, but she didn’t. With her arms holding the back of the chair, she gradually lowered herself down, kicking and shaking her legs to make the leotard move gradually upwards. It was quite a stressed position, and I could see her thighs shaking as she tried not to come down too hard and quickly. Eventually, her feet touched the floor, and she was able to let go of the chairback. After that it was easy for her to pull the leotard right up her legs, until the crotch (and the ring) reached her groin.

“Still doing ok down there?” she enquired.

I tried to nod my head, but could only move it a couple of inches. This made her giggle.

“That tickles” She said. “Do it again!”

I tried to nod again. We were both laughing, and my breath, coming out in short sharp bursts tickled her even more.

She grew serious. “Your head moves too much. I think you need a bit more.”

With that, she pulled the leaotard up over her torso, and slipped her arms into the sleeves, pulling them tight over her shoulders, and pulling the rest of the material tight.

Now whatever her ass did, my head did, and vice versa. The shiny satin fabric pushed out by her breasts looked fantastic, and I was getting a real rush from my subservient position. I wanted to masturbate, but I couldn’t get my hands anywhere near my swollen penis.

She leaned back, and pulled from the bag, a pair of handcuffs. These were not your ordinary run of the mill cuffs. There was a small black box with some dials and a digital display. The two hand cuffs were connected to this box, and two metal bars curved around towards each other. On the end of each bar was a small but very strong electromagnet. The dials controlled a timer. When set, the magnets would pull against each other.

“We said ten minutes, but I’m going to set it now, for 12, because it will take a minute or two to finish off here, ok?” she said.

I tried to nod again, and she reached down and tweaked my nose.

“Lie still!” she commanded. “Now then, 1,2,3… 10, 11, 12.”

Reaching behind, she pushed the loop through the slats of the chair back and after a bit of fumbling, managed to press a button. There was a beep and a quiet buzzing sound.

Now she reached down, and pulled cuffs around her ankles, securing them to the front legs of the chair, holding her legs apart. Then she reached behind, and using her right hand, secured her left hand to one of the handcuffs, then, with some difficulty, she managed to get her right hand into the other cuff. After some more fumbling, it clicked shut.

I felt her relax and sit back slightly.

That was it. We were stuck like this until the timer expired. Me firmly secured to the bench, with my mouth jammed open and pressed to her crotch, with just a thin layer of soft slippery fabric between us.

“I should have put on a miniskirt. Something soft and feminine. You’d have liked üsküdar escort that, wouldn’t you?” she said. “Trapped under the trappings of womanhood.”

I tried to nod again. This time, with us being bound, it aroused her. She started to grind her ass back and forth, pressing herself against my nose. The smell of her sex changed as she got more excited, and I could feel the fabric between us, already damp from being in contact with my tongue, become more and more moist. I wanted to use my tongue on her, but the crotch of the leotard was in the way. Instead, I pushed my face up into her, my nose rubbing against her clitoris.

Her movements became more rhythmic, and she started to moan, first softly, then more loudly as she rubbed and pulled against my mouth.

After a few minutes of increasingly intense stimulation, she arched her back and her thighs squeezed the sides of my head while at the same time, she was raising herself up off the chair, taking my head with her.

“Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my God!” she cried, sitting back down. A salty taste came into my mouth. She had come, and it had inundated the crotch of the leotard.

I felt her relax.

“That was nice” she said.

“Nnnn Hnnnn.” I agreed.

“I wonder if I can get another one in?”

She started to move again. I did my best to help. The second time took longer, but her orgasm this time was longer too, although less intense.

She sighed. “Thank you. Next time we do this, I will strap a dildo to your mouth instead of a ring”

She started rubbing herself against me in a circular motion, but she was sated. Just warming down. The 12 minutes must almost be up.

We waited. Minutes passed. Nothing happened.

Another couple of minutes passed. Still nothing. She began to get restless.

“This is taking waaaaay longer than I expected” she said. I tried to nod in agreement. I wanted to get free now so that we could make love properly.

She turned around as best as she could, and with my head and neck pulled sharply sideways, and her back twisted, she tried to see the timer display on the cuffs. After a moment, she turned the other way.

For a moment she went very still and quiet. After a minute or so, she did the same thing again.

“ohhhh shit.” she said.

I looked up at her face quizzically. She looked down at me steadily.

“I think we may be in trouble” she said finally. “I could just about see the numbers and they said 11:42. Then the second time, they said 11:40.”

Her face had gone pale.

“I think we’re stuck like this for the next twelve hours.”

She tried to pull free of the cuffs, but they were too tight. She tried to yank her hands, hoping to break the chain, or the slat of the chair that the cuffs were attached to, but the cuffs just slid up and down the slat. She tried to stand up, pulling my head up as her ass left the seat, but couldn’t rise more than a few inches. The fabric of the leotard stretched slightly as she did this, but she couldn’t hold the position for long, and when she sat down, I found my face jammed into her groin again.

She became frantic. Pulling and tugging, causing the chains to rattle and making both chair and bench shake. I was fighting my bonds too, yanking and pulling, and trying to pull my hands through the leather loops that held my arms out to my sides.

Now she was crying.

“This is all your fault, you stupid bastard” she said. “You and your fucking fantasies.” If she could have got a hand free, she’d have probably punched me.

I wanted to point out that it was her that had set the timer for 12 hours instead of 12 minutes, but all that came out of my jacked open mouth was a stream of ahs and ohs.

A tear made it’s way to the bottom of her chin, and dripped onto my forehead. She shook her head, then sat back in the chair.

“Well it’s no good.” she sighed. “We’re just stuck here until that stupid timer runs out.”

“And I’m glad I’m not in your shoes” she added. “I doubt if I can hold my bladder for the next twelve hours. No, make that eleven and a half”.

“Jesus Christ!” she said. “I can’t even read a magazine”.

I tried to shake my head, and I clicked my fingers.

“What?” she asked. I clicked my fingers again.

Eventually she caught on.

“Right. One click means the letter A. Two clicks mean B, and so on. Twenty six clicks mean Z. It’s not like we’re short of time.”

It was laborious, but it did mean we could talk to each other after a fashion, and the concentration needed to keep count and work things out did help us to take our minds off things.

“Call for help” I clicked.

“Are you kidding?” she asked me. “We’re miles away from anyone here.

She tried anyway. Yelling as loudly as she could, then stopping, then yelling again.

“HELP!!” she roared. “ANYONE!! HELLOOOOOOOO!!”

Nothing. Through the closed windows there was almost no sound. We could hear gaziemir escort no birds singing or the passing of vehicles in the distance. Just a clink of chain as she shifted in her seat.

“Eleven hours” she said. She twisted the other way. “And nine minutes”

We were still and silent for a few minutes. I clicked my fingers again.

“I spy”, she translated “With my little eye”.

That brought a smile.

“Something beginning with L”

“Leotard?” she asked. I nodded yes.

My jaw ached, and my arms were stiff and cramped. She was uncomfortable too, from having her arms behind her back for so long. She shifted in her seat, dragging my face with her, but she could do little to ease the discomfort.

“Do you have a mobile phone” I clicked.

“I do” she replied, “But it’s in the other room. Even if we could move this stuff, it would never fit through the door. Don’t think I hadn’t already thought of that.”

“It’s a pity you didn’t think of it before we started” I told her. She interrupted me.

“That’s not fair. I thought that no matter if things went bad, it wouldn’t be for more than a few minutes. Those stupid handcuffs were your idea. Why didn’t you set the timer, since you probably know what you’re doing”

She was right of course. We should have taken precautions but it seemed like such a frisson, to be in a position of inescapable but temporary bondage.

There was a long silence. It stretched on until minutes had passed. She yawned.

“God I’m bored” She said. “I’m going to try to get some sleep”

“How long to go?” I asked.

“Ten hours and fourty four minutes”

“Fuck”.

Time passed. I slept. I must have done because I woke up. My mouth was dry, and it took a few moments to remember where I was. Then reality reasserted itself.

Right above my eyes was a broad V of shiny silky fabric, bunched into a cameltoe at the bottom of my vision. If I raised my eyes, the silky fabric extended upwards, swelling over her hips and belly, then narrowing, as the slightly stretchy material followed the contours of her body. Then two bulges, as her breasts bushed out the fabric of the leotard. Her nipples were quite distinct. I could see that her shoulders were pulled back, and her head was slumped forwards, her hair falling in long strands from her forehead over her face. She was snoring gently. My stomach rumbled. I tried to keep very still, and after a while, I dozed off again.

I awoke again some time later. Nothing had changed, except the light, which now seemed a little more golden. The afternoon was wearing on. She continued to sleep. I could see the tendons on her neck tense and relax as she moved her jaw, and she shifted her position slightly, but didn’t wake. I definately felt hungrier now, and my mouth felt parched. I ran my tongue carefully around the inside of my aching mouth. The fabric of the leotard was now just damp, from her sweat and my tongue. Her earlier excretions had dried, leaving a flaky thin deposit on both the leotard and the lower part of my face. My arms and legs were getting as sore as hell. I pulled on the chains, just to give my muscles something to do.

That woke her up. I felt her move, and her head lifted slowly up. She blinked a few times, and moved her head in small circles, trying to clear the cramp of sleeping with her head slumped.

“Oh God, it’s still true” she said, looking around the room. “I wonder how much time has passed?”

Then, “Eight hours fifty two. I slept for almost two hours.” She sounded pleased. “I don’t think I slept that well. I’m in pain. How about you?”

“My arms are stiff and sore. I wish I could turn over, and my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton wool.” I replied.

She nodded sympathetically. There was silence. I heard her stomach gurgle. I was about to start clicking that I felt hungry too, but before I could do so, she looked straight down at me with her eyes wide.

“I am so, so sorry” she said.

Then I felt her buttocks tense, and she farted. A long, drawn out fart. I felt it hot against my face. My eyes watered and I felt my stomach get ready to expell it’s meagre contents. I held my breath, and then tried to breathe through my mouth. With my mouth pulled close to her crotch, it was like trying to suck ball bearings through a straw. It took a few minutes before the air cleared.

Her face, at first filled with horror and dismay, had broken into a broad grin. Her body jiggled with laughter.

“I’m so sorry” she said again. “I know I shouldn’t laugh but I just couldn’t help it. It had to come out. I couldn’t stop it.”

She looked down at me soberly. “I’m starting to need a pee” she said quietly.

She tried to pull herself up. I tried to force my head down. The fabric, although stretchy, was already stretched quite tightly arpund her body. Another self inflicted problem. I’d wanted, in this playing out of my fantasy, to be held firmly in place, unable to pull sancaktepe escort my mouth away from her crotch, and she’d managed to find an old leotard from years back, when she was in her late teens. She had worn it to dance classes, but she’d grown both taller and broader since then, and the leotard was uncomfortably tight. So despite their best efforts, the fabric would only stretch a little before it resisted any further movement. An inch? Certainly no more than that.

Nope. Anything that came out of her vagina was going to go straight through into my wide open mouth. I was glad that she wasn’t on her period. And what of the other? What if she needed to… My mind shied away from the thought. And what of me? I could feel myself starting to want to go, although it could just be psychological. But furniture can be cleaned, or at least thrown away if it gets dirtied. No I wasn’t worried about me.

As time passed, she got more and more uncomfortable. She was shifting her position frequently, and after a while, she started bouncing gently up and down.

“I can’t hold it much longer” she said. “How would you like me to do it?”

I looked up at her curiously. “Huh”? I tried to say.

“Well I can let it out all in a big rush, so that you get it over with quickly, or I can try to let it out a little bit at a time, if you think that would be easier to deal with. Blink once for fast or twice for slow.”

I thought for a moment and blinked once.

“OK” She said. She held on for another couple of minutes, then, “I’m sorry. It’s coming.”

A moment later I felt my face engulfed by a deluge of body hot liquid. I screwed my eyes up tight, and held my breath. I was trying as hard as I could to turn my head to one side, away from this awful stream but to no avail. My mouth clamped tight on the ring, as it tried to force itself shut, but I couldn’t close my mouth. It instantly filled with hot salty smelly liquid and spilled out of my mouth, down my chin and the sides of my head, soaking into the chair cushion, and running in drips and dribbles onto the floor. It ran up my face into my eyes and my nostrils. And it went on and on. I needed to breathe. I shook my head violently from side to side, and clicked my fingers over and over. She cut off the flow.

“There’s a bit more to come” she said “but I can hang on for a minute.”

My open mouth was full of urine. I tried to push it out with my tongue, and that got rid of some of it. I tried to move my head from side to side so that what was left could spill out, but I couldn’t turn far enough to make much difference. My nostrils had urine in them and I coudn’t breathe through my mouth. I gulped it down and pulled my head back, gasping for air through the wet fabric of the leotard. Then I snorted air out through my nostrils, clearing them.

“Ready for the rest?” She asked. “I’ll go a bit slower with the rest of it”

I nodded, and she resumed, this time moderating the flow so that it didn’t gush all over my face. It went in my mouth and went foaming out again, but I could breathe through my nose, which filled with the acrid, ammonia smell of strong pee. Once again, I had to swallow the last dregs. My stomach complained, and I heaved, but I just about managed to avoid throwing up. The wet fabric cooled against my mouth and nose.

“That is without a doubt the most disgusting thing I’ve ever done.” she said.

“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever done too” I clicked.

The shadows lenghtened across the walls and ceiling. The light was fading. We’d spent most of the last hour alone with our thoughts as first my face, then the leotard, and finally the chair cushion slowly dried. My arms and legs were aching like crazy, and she was getting sore where she hadn’t been able to clean herself after peeing. Her arms were tingling with pins and needles, and she pulled the cuffs up and down the slat to try to keep some blood circulating in her fingers. After a while, she twisted around and checked the time.

“Just over six hours” she said, grimly. “Take a few deep breaths and then hold. I need to fart again.”

I dozed for a while, somehow. It was the boredom and immobility that did it. I awoke to find her shaking my head from side to side with her thighs.

“Wake up! Come on, you need to wake” she said. I opened my eyes. “I’m starting to need to, you know…” My eyes widened and I tried, unsuccessfully to speak. I moved my head from side to side. “No! No! No!” I tried with renewed energy to get free, yanking at the cuffs and chains, trying to twist them or just break them with brute force. The bonds were implacable.

She farted again. A long drawn out one. It sounded wet.

“How long to go”? I clicked.

“Before the timer runs out? or before I can’t hold on any more?”

“Both”

“A few minutes maybe? It comes in waves. I get so that I really need to go, then it goes away again for a while before coming back stronger. As to the other, “

She twisted around to look.

“Uh…”

She twisted the other way.

“What the fuck?” she exclaimed.

I raised an eyebrow at her. What?

“It’s blank” she said. “The display isn’t there any more.”

She looked at me in horror.

“What if it’s broken, and we’re stuck like this forever?” She farted again, and an ominous gurgling started somewhere deep inside her.

Mistress calls you into the living room.

You respond immediately, and seconds later you are standing at attention to her left: back straight, legs spread, eyes down. Mistress is speaking with someone; you feel like you should know who the person is… like you USED to know who they are… but that memory is obscured far past the point of legibility.

“What do you think of my work?” Mistress says.

The other woman laughs derisively, “I can hardly believe that this is the same woman who fucked my husband! I’d have been a lot less angry if she’d looked like this at the time instead of the blank face, flabby ass, pooch-belly, saggy tit slut she was!”

She walks over to you, grabs your long bleached-blond hair, and forces your head back until your eyes meet hers. “I love how you have her caking her face in cheap makeup and gave her those big, dick-sucking lips! She’s going to pay me back for destroying my family, so she’s going to put a lot of miles on those lips.” She let go of your hair, and your head snapped back down to what it had bahçelievler escort been.

She gropes your massive, perky breasts and tweaks your always-attentive nipples. Your back arches involuntarily and you sigh softly. She runs her fingers down your flat stomach until it’s just above your leaking pussy. You can feel your arousal running down your leg in a continuous, sticky stream. She wipes a bit of it off with her finger and brings the fingertip up to your mouth. You wrap your lips around her finger and suck it into your mouth, teasing and cleaning it. You close your eyes and moan. You love how this feels. You love the taste.

She starts to pull her finger out of your mouth, but you resist, wanting to keeping tasting and feeling it. She pulls harder, and when her hand is free, she slaps you across the face. You deserved that; you were being a bad girl.

She touches you just below your armpits and traces your curves down past your hips. Your body is a very nearly perfect bağcılar escort hourglass shape now. She slaps your bubbly, round ass. Your body cannot help but respond with longing to her touch.

“How is she… sexually?” The woman asks. Even though you know she is talking about you, it all seems incomprehensible and unimportant.

“Skilled and willing”, Mistress answers. “There is nothing she will not so if ordered, but you will not need to demand, only give her permission. Her mind holds only 2 thoughts: lust and obedience. She is only good for waiting and fucking. Even household chores are a poor fit; they will simply slip from her hollow mind.”

The woman replies, glancing at you with gloating contempt, “That sounds perfect! I bet I can turn her into a few hundred bucks a night. The price will have to be low, since she’s such a pathetic slut, but she’ll make it up on volume. When men don’t want to fuck her holes anymore, they’ll pay to ruin them. When they aren’t even interested ümraniye escort in that, their wives will gladly pay to hurt her.

Mistress takes you hand and places it in the woman’s grip. You know what that means, that you belong to her now. A few seconds later, you have forgotten the months spent with your old mistress; she is a stranger to you, and you belong to Mistress.

You new mistress grips your wrist tightly to the point of pain. She whispers in your ear “Do you want to worship my pussy?”

You nod without any change to your blank, empty stare. In that moment it is all you want. She continues, “You will NEVER see or touch me. You are unworthy of my body, you deserve only the most pathetic cocks and pussies that truck stops, alleys, and bar bathrooms have to offer.”

She takes you to her home and locks you in your cozy cage. When evening comes, she drops you off for “work”, then picks you up in the morning. You forget to charge the people who fucked you that night, so Mistress had to punish you; it’s the only way you’ll learn.

You do better the second night, and the third, and so on. You hope that Mistress will be pleased, but you learn that you are an underwhelming whore. Mistress has high standards, as she should.

Soon, that will be the only life you remember: sleeping, eating, and fucking. It is all you’ll know, and in your own wordless, thoughtless way, you will be happy.

Disclaimer: This is the first story I’ve written in many years. It was inspired by an actual lover and his interests. Please… Be gentle, but be honest! Feedback is appreciated.

Enjoy!

*****

She looked around the room one last time, taking a deep breath to calm her nervous jitters. Everything was exactly as he’d requested. The wine was decanted into a carafe, the ruby liquid catching the soft light and glowing from deep within. Two glasses were waiting next to the carafe. The white postal box with its ubiquitous blue and red stripes was waiting as well; its unknown contents the source of the worst of her nerves.

There was a small tray on the nightstand, its contents also arranged carefully according to his explicit wishes. No surprises there, though. All of the items were things he’d bought on previous visits, things he’d used to torment, titillate, tease and pleasure her… A small bottle of the lube he preferred, a silk mask, a small collection of dildos and vibrators, nipple clamps, leather cuffs, a small hairbrush paddle, and a towel.

She shot another nervous glance at the mysterious box on the table and with an effort of will, dismissed it from her thoughts. He would do as he pleased, and no matter how much she resisted, she knew she would, ultimately, submit to the pleasure of serving her man.

A quick look at the bedside clock sent her pulse into overdrive again. Fifteen minutes to 7. She had to be ready and waiting for him by 7, though she knew from experience his schedule often forced delays on him that he could not control. She shuddered slightly, remembering the last time he’d been delayed. His frustration and irritation had made the first moments of his visit tense and stressful as she’d struggled to please him.

She made a quick trip to the restroom, leaving her clothing folded neatly on the bathroom counter when she was done. She double checked the outfit hanging on the bathroom door and then reentered the bedroom to get ready for him. His instructions this time were slightly different than her usual instructions. Rather than meet him naked, kneeling at the door, he’d instructed her to assume a position on the bed and wait.

A stacked mound of pillows under her tummy raised her behind into the air, exposing her ass and pussy to the slightly cool air in the room. She shivered a little before her naked body grew used to the temperature, and she lay there, head pillowed on her arms, waiting for her man to arrive.

He walked quickly down the hall to the room where he knew she was waiting. He was late, much later than he’d expected, and he knew she’d been waiting for some time. He’d checked his watch in the elevator; 8:30. Not the latest he’d ever been, but the time felt like an eternity when he knew she was waiting for him.

He smiled slightly, the irritation at the delay nothing against the anticipation of what he had in store for her tonight. His pace picked up as he thought about her reaction to the new toy and the new plan and soon he was slipping his key card in the reader and entering the room.

The scent of the candle burning on the dresser caressed his senses first, the heady aroma of sandalwood and jasmine a balm to his senses. He smiled again, knowing that he should address this small act of independence, but since he liked that she continued to show spirit and a streak of individuality in thoughtful ways that only served his needs, he thought he’d continue to allow it.

A glance around the room showed that all was ready precisely according to his instructions. Good. She might show occasional bits of independence, but she also knew exactly how to please him and continued to surprise him with her attention to detail and anticipation of his desires.

He grinned as he noticed the lacy scrap of cheeky panty she’d included in her chosen outfit. She knew he loved her ass in those panties, and the hopefulness of the inclusion of that pair amused him. She much preferred the security of panties under her clothing and he much preferred her bare. Panties had their place, in his opinion, and it certainly wasn’t under her dress.

Perhaps he’d add a reminder to her that his instructions were not negotiable; in spite of the amusement he felt at her attempt, he knew that she’d continue to push this point until he put a stop to it. Although he had a plan for her tonight, they had plenty of time and he could definitely fit corrective instruction into his activities for the evening.

He left his rolling bag at the side of the dresser and entered the room completely. His groin tightened as he took in the scene before him. He stroked himself absently through his trousers as he approached the bed where she lay waiting. As he suspected might happen, she’d dozed off waiting for him. But that wasn’t an issue; he didn’t mind if she’d relaxed enough to sleep. That meant her nerves had worn off and she’d be more responsive and comfortable. Tonight that would be more important than most visits.

Her lovely face was framed by her curls, her göztepe escort features soft with sleep. As always, her makeup was impeccable and tasteful, her luscious lips bare as instructed, pink and inviting. His groin tightened again painfully and he forced his thoughts away from those lips wrapped around his cock. He surveyed her position on the bed with approval. Her ass was raised invitingly, her legs spread slightly to bare her pussy and asshole to him. He was pleased to see the glistening wetness between her thighs; even given her nerves, her body betrayed her anticipation and need. He nodded slightly and turned to the table, pouring a glass of wine before he focused his attention on the box in front of him.

She awoke slowly, to a growing need. Her clit was throbbing with pleasure and her body thrumming with desire. She came fully awake suddenly, panic making her gasp, though she forced herself to remain still on the bed.

“You’re awake. Finally,” a mocking masculine voice said above her. She tensed briefly before she detected the amusement in the tone and relaxed.

“I’m sorry, sir. I did not intend to sleep. I will make any amends you require.”

He gave in and laughed, “No, girl, you were lovely in your sleep, and you will need the nap for tonight’s activities. I’m glad you were relaxed enough to sleep.” She felt him move behind her as he spoke, then warm wetness spread across her ass and dripped down to coat her asshole and pussy.

Before she could wonder what he intended, she felt his finger stroke her asshole and she struggled briefly not to tense up. She was so afraid of the pain of anal play, but he loved it so much and he always made it pleasurable after the pain. He nodded in silent approval of her triumph over the struggle he knew she’d feel and pushed forward without speaking.

He slid his lube coated finger into her ass without hesitation, stroking her flesh fully once, twice, a third time before adding a second finger. She hissed softly as her asshole stretched around him, but she was used to this and waited for her body to accommodate his probing fingers. He stroked again, once, twice and on the third added his ring finger. He didn’t even pause this time and continued to stretch her ass around his fingers. He could see her pussy responding to his ministrations, even if she was still struggling to be comfortable with the intrusion.

“That’s my girl,” he spoke encouragingly, knowing she would respond well to the praise. He needed her relaxed for this next part. She relaxed fully against his hand and allowed herself to accept the pleasure he was bringing to her. As he felt her relax, he slid his fingers in and out one more full stroke before pulling out completely and replacing them with the plug he’d retrieved from the box on the table.

He knew she’d have panicked if she’d seen it beforehand, which is why he’d sent it by mail and instructed her to leave it for him to open. Before her asshole could begin to tighten up again, he doused her with lube and pushed the huge plug against her ass. She took more than half its length before its girth was larger than he’d stretched her. She tensed up and moaned, trying hard not to beg him to stop. She knew he would if she really meant it and used her safeword, but she knew he would be tremendously disappointed. She also trusted him to know what she could take and so fought to relax again and allow him to do what he wanted to do.

He paused only momentarily as she struggled to accept the plug in her ass. He judged her struggle and then resumed the pressure on the plug into her ass. He could feel when she relaxed, and her sphincter softened slightly allowing the plug to stretch her to accommodate it.

He dripped lube on it again and with one last, steady push, shoved the plug’s flare through the barrier of her sphincter. He felt it settle into place, her asshole immediately tightening around the neck of the plug, the base’s jewel winking and gleaming in the soft light of the room. He smiled to see it; the pretty jewelry nestled in the thick flesh of her ass.

He wiped his hand on the towel and with a thoughtful frown, picked up the hairbrush paddle on the nightstand before dropping the towel back on the tray. He returned to his stance at the foot of the bed and spoke softly, “Girl, we have more to do tonight, and I am pleased that you did not resist me in this first thing. It is important to me, as you know, that your ass be trained and ready for me at all times, and this plug will be a good start to that goal. As always, I will have a photo for you of what we’ve done tonight, and in the future we will add this to the things you will do to be ready for me when I visit.”

He paused and she replied immediately, “Yes, sir, thank you sir for helping me learn how to serve you.”

He allowed a smile at her response to flit quickly across his features before the stern frown creased his forehead again. “Girl, you need to understand, though, that when çorlu escort I give you instructions, I expect them to be followed every time the way I’ve shown you. You are not to add or subtract from those instructions, even if what I want from you makes you uncomfortable. We will always be pushing your limits and discomfort is part of that process. I saw the panties you included with your dress for this evening, and you know that I do not allow panties under your clothing.”

He watched her body slump in surrender and he knew she’d truly hoped her choice would be allowed. He nodded once and without another word, he swung the hairbrush paddle against her asscheek. She shrieked once, then bit the sound off with a sob, “I’m sorry, sir, it will not happen again.” He struck her other cheek with the paddle and she jumped, her cheeks clenching with the pain, but she successfully smothered any cry of pain.

He proceeded to slap the paddle against each cheek in turn, giving her a full ten strokes on each cheek. By the end, her ass was red hot and swollen, ridges forming where the edges of the paddle caught her flesh. He knew she’d bruise and sit gingerly for a couple of days, but she really needed to understand that his word in this relationship was law.

Tears were running down her face and she sobbed silently as he finished, and she hiccupped slightly before she spoke, voice hoarse from the effort of holding her cries silently, “Thank you, sir, for helping me understand my error. I will not make the mistake again.” He nodded and dropped the paddle on the nightstand and walked over to the chair by the table, dropping into it and picking up his wineglass. He gulped down a generous swallow, hoping the alcohol would help him control the raging hard on and he regarded her for a long moment before he said, “You’re welcome, girl. Now get dressed and we will go for dinner.”

She straightened slowly to her knees, wincing with pain, then stopped, hesitating before asking softly, “Sir, the plug… Will that stay?” His cock surged to hardness again as he realized her fear and he steadied himself. “Come here, girl. Get down off that bed and crawl to me.” She got off the bed, avoiding sitting down, and dropped to her hands and knees and scrambled to kneel in front of him.

“Look at me,” he growled.

She looked up, her lovely, tear streaked face troubled in the soft light. “That plug is going to stay in until I take it out. Do not question me again; I don’t want to paddle you again so soon, but I will absolutely paddle you if you question me again.” She nodded immediately, tears glistening again in her eyes, “Yes, sir. I am so sorry, sir.” He picked up his wineglass in one hand and gestured at his very obviously tented trousers with the other. “Take care of this first, girl, then get yourself cleaned up and dressed. We have reservations.”

She immediately reached for his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them before reaching in and freeing his hard cock. She licked her lips once, then rose up on her knees and took him in her mouth. She suckled him hard, sliding those lips down his length until he was fully engulfed in her hungry depths, the head of his cock nudging the back of her throat.

He reached out and tangled his hand in her hair, pushing her face down hard. She gagged and coughed but took him, her hands moving to her lower back, clasping each other behind her back as she used her body’s leverage to move her up and down his cock. He relaxed his pressure but didn’t let go of her hair as she sucked hard on his cock, suckling to keep her drool from staining his trousers as she took him to full depth with each deep stroke.

He didn’t even try to resist the pleasure of her lips and tongue on his flesh and with only a few strokes he groaned deeply and released himself into her throat, shoving her head down hard on him as he came. She swallowed frantically, taking him all, and as he finished, she suckled him softly as she came off his cock, making sure all his cum was cleaned up and swallowed and that any saliva was removed.

He let go of her hair and she sat up, lips and mouth red and swollen with the effort of sucking him off, a small drop of cum glistening on the corner of her mouth. He felt his flesh stir with desire again as her tongue came out and licked up the drop and he gestured over to the towel on the nightstand before taking a deep drink of wine.

She crawled over to the nightstand and retrieved the towel, the jewel in her red, swollen ass winking with every step and he smiled in anticipation of the rest of the evening. She returned, breasts swaying with her movements and cleaned him up with the towel. He flicked fingers at her and she turned to crawl to the bathroom and clean herself and get dressed. He smiled at the sight again, knowing she chose to crawl to the bathroom to make amends for her doubt with the best sight of his handiwork and he knew the rest of the night would be exactly as he’d planned.

******

He ümraniye escort watched her avidly all during dinner. She was absolutely beautiful this evening; her dress was flattering and lovely, soft folds flowing around her legs, décolleté tastefully presented in its surplice neckline, diamond pendant on her discrete collar winking in the low light in the restaurant.

She’d repaired her makeup well and swept her hair up, but he could see that her eyes were still a little puffy and swollen. The evidence of her previous tears was not evident to anyone but him, and the sight made him yearn to see her cry again. There was something very lovely about her blue eyes filled with tears of helpless pleasure or helpless desire, and he hoped to see it again once they were alone in private.

But he had to admit her physical beauty was eclipsed by her struggle to sit comfortably. Again evident only to him, her infinitesimal movements to rest on her bruised, welted, sore ass and accommodate the jeweled plug stretching and filling her ass were threatening to make it very difficult for him to stand up… His cock was currently rock hard under the napkin in his lap and he was going to have to think of something to be able to get up from the table without the entire restaurant seeing the evidence of his desire for his girl.

He smiled at her discomfort as they finished their meal and with a superhuman effort of will, forced his flesh to obey as they stood to leave. She stood with slightly less than her usual grace, stiffness from her earlier punishment making her movements awkward to his eyes. She smiled tremulously at him and bowed her head slightly in deference, waiting for his lead. He touched her arm to indicate she should precede him and he fell into step just to her side and led her out of the restaurant, his hand firmly on her elbow.

They made their way back to the car, her steps growing easier as they walked. He’d parked toward the back of the lot on purpose, part of the next step of his plan. They reached the vehicle and she stopped by the passenger door, waiting for him as she’d been taught.

He paused, then pointed to the hood of the car, “Bend over the side of the car and raise your skirt for me.”

To her credit, she hesitated only a second before complying, resting her torso on the car and reaching behind her to flip her skirt up, baring her legs and ass to him. He glanced around quickly to assure their privacy… There were a handful of cars nearby, but nothing so close that he wouldn’t have notice if someone approached. Good. He smiled a little wickedly and waited, knowing she would get antsy if what he planned didn’t happen – and end – quickly.

True to form, as he watched, she started to fidget slightly, making the jewel still in her ass jump and wiggle as her muscles clenched around it. He watched her force her flesh to relax, and he knew she was hoping he’d remove the jewel. He laughed to himself at the thought; no, she’d be wearing that jewel for some time yet.

Finally he walked up behind her and without touching her anywhere else, he took one finger and traced the welts on her ass, the bruising starting to form around them. He pushed lightly against the largest welt, making her jump slightly, then removed his hand completely, pausing before he reached out and cupped her pussy with his hand. His hand was immediately soaked with her juices and he leaned forward, using two fingers to pinch her clit, hard.

“So you want me, do you, girl? After I beat you, after I filled your ass, after I forced you to go bare under your dress? You still want me to fill that pussy with my cock and my cum, don’t you?”

She whimpered at the harsh tone of his voice and nodded, “Yes, sir. I am yours to do whatever you please. Your pleasure is my desire.”

He let her clit go and she moaned softly as it throbbed as the blood rushed back to the abused flesh. “Good girl. Remember that, and maybe you won’t have to sit through another dinner with a bruised ass.”

He slapped the bruised flesh, making her clench her teeth and moan, but her body betrayed her desire, her back arching and baring her pussy more fully to him. He looked around again and unzipped his trousers. He’d need to release himself again if he were going to last the rest of this night.

He stroked his hot, hard flesh once before leaning over her again, “If you cum without permission, girl, I will paddle your ass again and you will end this night without another release and you will go without release until I’m in town again.”

She whimpered again and nodded, “Yes sir.”

He nodded and resumed his position behind her, then in one full, hard thrust, shoved himself fully inside her, sheathing himself to the hilt in her wet, hot, tight depths. He reached around once and pinched her clit again, hard, twisting it cruelly before letting it go.

He could feel her tense around him, struggling not to cum, and satisfied she’d control herself, he slid himself almost all the way out and then slammed back into her. She grunted as the plug was pushed farther into her, but pushed back against him to take him deeper. He responded by slapping her ass again, then stroked himself hard in and out of her again, feeling his balls tighten in response. One more good, hard, stroke and he shoved himself deeply in her and came, filling her pussy with his cum.

Lillinn

3 August

One day, I will show you Lilith. She knows your secrets, you see, she knows your true name, and if she wanted to, she could scream it to the heavens. You couldn’t do anything about it—she’s got you in the palm of her hand. When you see her, you’ll go weak-kneed, and you’ll know exactly what it is you want. Oh, you may resist at first, but once that’s done, that coy little game, you’ll fall on your knees and beg her to fuck you.

How did you think, after all, that it was a cock that ruled the world? Wave it around as you will, it’s only in the end something that comes and goes at my discretion and valor, but the mysterious power of my femininity is something that stays with me all the time, tied to the inexorable cycles of the moon, the tides, the push and pull that is generative, germinating life itself. I hold those secrets inside me, and you crave them. You may have creative force, but without my mysteries, your seed would fall on fallow ground, the cum-drops, tear-drops of a lonely little god.

You will fall on your knees and worship that power that you do not, cannot, understand. It’ll pull you from the base of your being, starting at the deep-seated shaft of your cock and dragging the rest of you screaming into the darkness. But you’ll learn to love that darkness that I give you.

You will kneel before me, naked, stripped bare and mercilessly, I will allow you to squirm, a soft smirk curving over blood-red lips as you grovel. The pink tip of your soft little tongue will flick out and you will guide it along the contours of those boots you love so much. You don’t even know why, but as you taste the synthetic smoothness of the vinyl, your dick will get hard, precum swelling to its tip, standing there in a tiny little viscous, salty droplet that will run to the ground, unused until I say it’s used. Even if you won’t lower yourself, your dick tells the story—it weeps for the wanting of me, for the fear that I will send you away from my presence.

You crave me, and you begin to feel it now. It starts in your belly and crawls along your thighs, where you close your eyes and imagine the touch of my crop, the biting sting of my displeasure if you fail me. You can hear me growling in pleasure as I watch you squirm; you’re hard even thinking about my pain, and your lips press gently against my ankle. You can’t help but moan softly, and that song takes on a life of its own, flitting out into the room. A whisper of the damned. I hear it and smile; my breath picks up to see you like this, a slut on his knees.

I tell you to look at me, because I want to see that desperation in your eyes, and you don’t disappoint me. I turn, pivot effortlessly on the balls of my feet and tell you to get to work worshiping those long, milk-white legs that you say you love so much. I can feel the tremble in your fingertips as they run over fishnet and garters. If you were in a position to, you’d bend me over the bed and fuck çeşme escort me senseless right now, but you’re not, and you know if you so much as think about it, I’ll beat the need right out of you until you remember why you’re here.

Soft, moist lips caress the backs of my thighs, the soft curve of my ass that peeks out from underneath the short skirt. Your fingertips clench into my thighs because you can smell it now, the wetness of my cunt, the scent of arousal pervading your nose as you draw in a deep breath. Oh god, oh god how you want it.

But it’s not god you should be asking. You will witness the presence of Her Grace.

I see you overcome by your own desire. Now is the time to show you, to remind you that it is not your own whims that you should listen to, not the fickle god inside your cock that is directing this little soiree. I turn to face you, crook my gloved finger under your chin, and guide your face up to look in my eyes. You can see that I’m not pleased, and something inside you curls around itself in abject fear.

I grab you by your hair, and tell you to get to your feet. But I don’t give you the time to think it over, and jerk with all my might. You’re coming whether you like it or not, and I guide you the precious few steps to the bed with an iron grip. I force you to stand there for a moment and, looking down, you can see, for the first time, the graceful arc of my tits curving over the top of that vinyl bustier that you love so much. Oh, how you want to bury your face in them, have their weight hanging on either side of your face as you kiss the moon-pale skin, and flick your tongue on a taut-and-tightening nipple.

“You need,” I purr, “to remember why you’re here.”

And I wrap my hand around your cock and squeeze tightly. You gasp. I grab your hair and pull you to me, taking from you a kiss with bruising force. I push you hard to the bed, and bark for you to get on your knees.

The crop fits into my hand like I was born to hold it. It arcs through the air with you unprepared and comes down on that white skin, striating it red. Red, white, red, white, red, white, as your blood rises to your defense, and I am cruel, cruel enough to continue to whip you as you moan, and squirm, knowing better than to jerk away. There’s a spot underneath you on the bed, getting bigger, a dark wet spot. You can’t hide it from me, how much you need me, and it makes me lord my power cruelly, bearing down harder with that whip.

“Why are you here?”

“For your pleasure, My Mistress, My Goddess,” you gasp, the words coming out reflexively, like they are words you have always known and lived.

“What do you do when I want something?”

“Give it to you,” the words come out uneven as I give you another slash across your ass with the crop. You push your ass out towards me like you’d really like for me to put some lube on these vinyl gloves, and jam başakşehir escort them straight up until I find your prostate, rub it until you collapse in trembling ecstasy.

“What do you do when you want something?”

“Ask you if I may have it,” you say, your voice ragged.

“Good,” I say. “On your back.”

The assent comes almost instantaneously, but I can see from the fear in your dark eyes that you don’t yet know what to expect. I am silent, lips refusing to part and give you any inkling. My boots clack dully across the hardwood floor, each thud final, as you wonder what instrument of torture or delight will next find my fingers. The crop is set carefully on the dresser, and I reach for lengths of rope, carefully cut to the proper size that I desire. Your hands: bound. Your feet: bound.

You are completely at my mercy. You are my whore.

I sit on your chest, give you that wicked look, and yank up the edge of my skirt to expose that cunt you’ve been wanting. Nothing covering it. Just a precisely shaven triangle of smooth skin, pinkish lips peeking out delicately. It makes you hungry, I’m sure. You can taste it on your lips. I shove it in your face, but you don’t dare lick it, even kiss it, without my permission.

And I’m not going to give it to you, because I am not in a giving mood. My gloved fingers slide over my cunt, dipping into the sweat and the arousal, slicking back up my slit to my clit. It’s already swollen because I came into this tonight knowing what I wanted, and knowing that I would get it, and my own arousal is piqued because of the welts on your thighs, the blood risen to your cheeks, the desperate desire that I can see you drowning in through your eyes.

“Watch me fuck myself.”

Not like you had a choice.

My fingers rub in a circular motion, my gloves shining in the low light with moisture. I throw my head back and moan, the tips of my long, thick hair caressing your stomach with teasingly light sweeps. My other hand pulls a tit out from underneath the tight fabric of the bustier. I pinch my nipple. It hardens under my touch, and I can feel your breath pick up as you watch that, as you scent arousal coming stronger and stronger. Your hips twitch, mimicking my own rhythm as evidence of my lust begins to pool and puddle on your skin.

“Mistress, no, please…” It’s a breathy request, and it makes me smile. Now you understand, you understand that this is what I wanted in the first place, and when you see that I’m not stopping, you start to get more desperate, a ravaged note coming into your voice. “Don’t leave me like this, don’t make me useless, Mistress, Goddess, please… please use me. Use me as your fucktoy… oh god… please fuck my cock… Please… fuck, please…”

You’ve been a good boy.

Your cock twitches, jerking upward as I slide down your torso, black gloves slicking up your chest to your küçükçekmece escort face. My cunt slides easily down your length, because I’ve taken you like this times, so many times that you can’t remember the exact number, only that each instance, it was everything, there was nothing else in the world but me and that whore of a cock that you have.

I fuck you hard. I fuck you deep, torquing my hips so your cock grinds hard against my g-spot. You can feel that too, rubbing right against the corona of your dick. It feels good—so good. But you know what happens if you cum and I didn’t tell you to. You know. And you dread it worse than you dread anything else, you want the Black Plague more than you want my wrath, the wrath that comes with you forgetting whose pleasure comes first.

I get tight around you, so tight that you don’t know how to keep from exploding. My fingertips dig into your nipples, twisting them so hard that you don’t know how to reconcile the pain with the intense pleasure of my cunt as I’m about to cum. The tops of my fishnet stockings feel like they’re ripping into your skin, so rough as I fuck you. Your cock swells like it’s about to burst as my cunt grips tight around you. I cum for what seems like minutes upon minutes, my body writhing, tits with hard nipples arching towards you, but not close enough to your mouth for you to take one between your lips. My cunt squeezes you so tight, so tight you can’t take it, and you feel like you’re losing your mind as you thrash your head from side to side.

I slide off of you, jade lightning darting through my eyes as I look down at you. Your heart is pounding. You crave that release that I, and only I, can give you. I turn, pressing my hips towards you, shoving my cunt in your face. It’s still got the taste of you in there, somewhere, precum mixed with my own juices, my own cum sliding down my cunt and towards your lips.

“Clean me off.”

The order is implicit. It is not an option. You moan softly, your tongue darting out to lap at the soft folds of pink flesh that you have been wanting, wanting to touch, to lick, to worship, all evening long. I throw my head back as I feel you start to suck the cum off the lips of my cunt. My lips part, and I spit into the palm of my glove before reaching down to rub that sore, aching cock of yours. You moan into me. My hand strokes a rhythm—but it only starts soft, and soon, I’m working my wrist with expert motion, fucking your cock with my hand.

“Don’t you fucking cum until I tell you to,” I growl.

It’ll be awhile before I’m done with you yet. I grind my cunt into your face, and I can tell from the way you moan that you’re losing it. Losing your fucking mind because I’m making you do it. I’m making you taste those secret places deep inside me and it’s what you’ve always wanted, everything you’ve always wanted but were to scared to admit.

You were too scared to admit that you worshiped this cruel Goddess. It seems silly now, as you’re pushing your hips against my hand, fucking my gloved and clenched fingers for all you’re worth. I own you, body and soul, and you know this. I’ve marked you. If I want to fuck every inch of you that I can fuck, cum all over your entire body to make you remember whose property you are, I could. And you’d love every minute of that, too.

I first saw Mistress in a magazine ad. She seemed the perfect marriage between my budding interest in female domination and my attraction to black women. For weeks she was the star in my jerk off fantasies. But I was in my early 20’s; a broke student with college life taking up much of my time. I eventually forgot about her.

Several years pass before I find Mistress’s website almost by accident (well I was looking up female-domination sites but not looking for her). The old yearnings return. But now I have the means and time to act on them. Even so, it takes several months to work up the nerve to make an appointment to see Mistress.

In the days before my visit, I scour her website absorbing every word and picture.

When the time comes, I park a couple blocks from the address she provided and walk (I don’t want her to see my car or tag). I am surprised how plain her building looks – like any other office. It could be a dentist office.

I knock, the door opens and there she is: dressed in a tight black leather outfit that accentuates her curves. My heart is racing – I feel I might pass out.

She smiles and asks “Jay?” I can only nod. She steps back and says “Come in”.

It is like a small medical reception room inside only mostly empty. Against the right wall is a table with a tray, in the corner on the left is a basket and a door is on the back wall. In the middle of the room is a large high back rattan chair and a small table next to it with a glass of wine.

As instructed on her website, with out a word I put the consultation fee in the tray.

She commands “Strip”, turns and walks to the chair. I gawk at her luscious ass for a moment. She is at least 15 years older than me, but is a total knock out.

I quickly disrobe and pile my clothes in the basket.

She points a riding crop down before her and commands “Kneel here, spread your legs and keep your hands at your sides”.

I comply and know to keep my head looking down.

“Why have you come here?” she asks.

Quickly, proudly, I blurt out “I’ve fantasized for years about serving you.”

“For years?” she replies. “You don’t look older than 25.”

She continues “Silly boy, submitting to me is a life style not some game you play then put back on the shelf. You should forget all this. Find a nice homely girl, start a family and have a vanilla life.”

This was not the reception I expected. I stammer “But I’m 26! I’ve thought about being with you since the first time I saw your magazine ad”.

Mistress shakes her head slowly “I’m just a youthful infatuation; like a first love – you are an immature fool and can’t even began to understand what you are asking. LEAVE NOW!”

I am totally confused. Is this a test?

Mistress interprets my indecision as defiance. And harshly says “You impertinent shit! I am showing you mercy and you’re too naive to realize. I would so enjoy bending you; forever warping your psyche; seeing the horror in your eyes as you realize the truth of subservience to me.”

I am a little scared now. But her threats arouse a deep craving within me and stir my cock.

She notices, pauses and says “Perhaps this life style is for you.” As she strokes the side of my cock with her riding crop I grow harder.

She smiles wickedly and says “You have made your last free decision.”

She continues to lightly stoke me and asks “I typically record client sessions, is that OK?”.

“Yes” I pant.

“Yes mistress” she corrects.

Mistress instructs me “I need you to explicitly state that you understand I own the rights to the recordings of our sessions.”

My cock is doing the thinking now. I quickly repeat what she said before the rest of my brain figures out the implications.

She asks “Do you freely and completely agree to submit to me?”

I pant agreement “Yes mistress please”. She places a collar with a leash on me.

She rises and moves toward the back door. I start to stand to follow, but she commands “crawl”.

The backroom is the well equip dungeon pictured on her website.

She leads me to the center of the room. My legs are spread and cuffed to hooks in the floor. My hands are cuffed and stretched above me with a chain in the ceiling.

In the back of the room at a desk is a barely clad black man.

Mistress says “James will be assisting me. Now lets get to know each other. What is your full name?”

I reply “Just Jay, I want to keep some anonymity.”

Her assistant chuckles out loud. Mistress has an expression of slight amusement before the riding crop hits my cock.

I jumped from the shock. She hits me several more times, driving away the remnants of my hard on.

Angrily she says “Jay, this is exactly what I was talking about. This is not some game. You have no secrets from me.”

Striking my cock after each word for emphasis, she repeats “WHAT.. IS.. YOUR.. FUCKING.. NAME?”

I stammer out “Jay *withheld*”.

She continues “Where do you live?”

“Miami” I response. Which earns me another whack.

Mistress explains tuzla escort “I do not have time for 20 questions. I require complete answers. Where do you live?”

I answer “*withheld* Drive, Apartment xxx, Miami”

In the background her assistant states “Confirmed mistress”.

Mistress continues “Do you have a girl friend?”

“No mistress”

“A boyfriend?” she probes.

“No mistress” I answer indignantly.

“Are your parents still alive?” she asks.

“Yes mistress” I reply as I try to figure out where she is going with this.

“What are their names?” she demands.

I hesitate and Mistress is on me. She starts walking around me striking with the crop at random locations so I can’t guess the next target. Restrained I can do nothing but flinch after each blow.

“OK, OK” I cry.

Mistress coldly replies, as she continues her assault. “You think saying OK makes everything alright? You asked, you begged to submit to me. Well here it is. You will do what I ask with out delay. What are your parents names?”

In tears from being beaten and from made to reveal something I never intended to, I reply “Harold and Denise *withheld*”.

She smiles “Wouldn’t they be proud to see you strung up being beaten by a black woman? Where do they live?”

“1030 *withheld* Drive in Tampa” I respond.

“Do you have siblings?”

“A brother and sister also in Tampa” I say.

She continues “Do you work?”

I respond “Yes mistress, I’m an electrical engineer at West Engineering”.

“Good” she coos as she rubs my cock with her crop “Your answers are becoming quicker and more complete. How much to you make a year?”

“About 75 thousand” I say proudly.

“And what is your boss’s name in case I need to contact him?” she demands.

“Please no” I whisper to myself. But Mistress hears.

“This is going to be a long painful night Jay” Mistress says as she walks to the wall and replaces the riding crop with a stranded flogger.

She walks back toward me and takes swings at my chest and cock before settling behind me.

She strikes my back from top to bottom. I cry out after each strike. What have I gotten myself into I wonder. Then she focuses on my left butt cheek by spinning the strains around the handle and hitting me with each rotation. My right butt cheek is next. My back feels afire. I wonder how long until I’ll be able to sit again.

Again she is in front of me and politely asks “What is your boss’s name?”

“Alan *withheld*” I sob.

“Name some of the people you work with” she commands.

I give her about a dozen names.

“Now” she says “what is your social security number?”

I can’t believe this. Will I have no secrets? Why didn’t I think this through.

Mistress is not happy with my delay and picks up a short bull whip.

The whip makes a loud snap as it hits. This pain is worse than from the other tools. I can’t help but cry out. She gives me about a dozen blows. I’m crying profusely.

“I’m pretty good aiming this” she brags. “Left knee” Snap – perfect hit. “Right thigh” snap. “Left thigh a little higher” Snap another perfect shot.

“Guess where my next shot will be if you don’t give me your fucking social security number?” she demands.

I quickly give her the sequence.

“Confirmed” her assistance announces “no arrests, good credit rating, three bank accounts, two credit cards, an IRA, a 401k, not counting the student loans a net worth of $50k.”

“Don’t worry” Mistress reassures me “I won’t steal from you. Then adds with a laugh “You’ll eventually just give me whatever I want”.

I want this to end. I want to get out of here and never even think of Mistress again.

Mistress smiles “Just a few more questions about your sex life and we’ll be through. Tell me about your first orgasm.”

I’ve got little to hide here. I explain “It was at my grandfather’s farm, I was 13 and discovered an old stack of National Geographic magazines.”

“Other than B & D & S & M do you have any other sexual kinks?” she probes.

“I touched my cousin’s breast once” I state.

Sarcastically she replies “That must have been quite a thrill for you both. Any prostitute or homosexual encounters.”

“No” I quickly reply.

“No mistress” she corrects “OK starting with the earliest and working your way forward briefly tell me about each woman you’ve had sexual relations with”.

I feel myself flushing with embarrassment. Mistress looks as if she will continue whipping me, but stops and asks “Jay are you a virgin?”.

“Yes mistress” I hiss.

With surprise she says “This changes everything. I was going to just going to cut you loose assuming you’ve learned a lesson. Now I’m not sure what to do with you. I could sell the rights to you or maybe do you myself.”

“James” she commands “bring me a chastity with the smallest fittings we have.”

From a cabinet she retrieves an adult diaper and places it on me.

When her assistant returns with pendik escort the chastity he whispers something to her. Mistress says “OK” and tells him to bring some ice.

She pours the ice into my diaper.

While my balls are slowly freezing Mistress asks “Have you seen a male chastity before?”

“No mistress” I reply with concern.

She continues “Until I decide your fate, I’m going to keep you in forced chastity. This device will prevent you from having an erection. So you won’t be able to lose your virginity. It also means you won’t be able to masturbate. At first it will be an annoyance, but as the days go on, like a raging fever, your desire for relief will grow. I will hold the key to chastity’s lock, so you will be compelled to return to me. Milking sessions are somewhat expensive at $3000, but you can afford it.”

Mistress removes my diaper and I can see the cold has drastically shrunk my cock. Even so, it’s a tight fit as she squeezes by balls into the backing ring and my cock into the small tube before snapping the anti-pulls around my cock and balls into place and closing the lock. Sadly it looks very secure.

I am unbound and made to crawl to the reception room. Where I am told to dress. Her assistant hands her a small paper with my next appointment on it. Mistress smiles and says “See you in a month” as she hands it to me.

As I leave I curse myself getting myself into this trap and for not leaving when I had the chance.

The next few weeks are a difficult adjustment.

After several painful failed attempts, I give up hope of removing the chastity; it is too good of a fit.

Pain is also a great motivator in helping me to learn to avoid any situation that might trigger a failed hard on.

The rest of my life continues pretty much as before.

A part of me is actually turned on about Mistress being in control of my next orgasm and I fantasize about her being the first to fuck me.

As she warned with each passing day my yearning for relief increases until I don’t think I can wait another minute.

I arrive for my appointment. However this time Mistress’s assistant answers the door. “Mistress has been delayed” he explains “she will be with you shortly. She asked me to escort you to the back room. Please put your clothes in the basket and follow me. Mistress is not here and I won’t make you crawl.”

In the dungeon, her assistant has me sit on a bench. My hands are cuffed behind my back and each ankle cuffed to a bench leg so my caged cock is fully exposed.

A few minutes later Mistress walks in dressed in loose fitting scrubs.

“Ah our virgin” she says.

But her expression turns to an angry frown as she looks at my cock. “Why aren’t you shaved?” she demands “I explicitly told you to shave. James, this client is not prepared for his visit, please reschedule him for two weeks from now.”

“No” I cry “You never mentioned shaving. Please, I can’t wait that long.”

“Are you presuming to tell me what I said?” she retorts.

“No mistress” I reply.

Her assistant says “Mistress you have a convention next week and then a vacation planned. Rescheduling now means a three week delay. It’s his first time. Perhaps some mercy?”

Mistress replies “James you are a kind soul. Very well, but you clean him up. I’m not going to”.

While her assistance gathers a razor, lather, water and a towel, Mistress locates my key on a ring with about fifty keys and removes the chastity. Then leaves the room in disgust.

My cock, finally free, awakens. When her assistant returns I am embarrassed by my semi-erection and apologize.

James kindly brushes aside my apology “If I’d been in a cage for a month, I’d be hard too.”

He applies lather to the hair around my cock and begins shaving.

I keep telling myself “This is just like being shaved for surgery; nothing unusual about being shaved down there.”

As he works James says “Mistress really has it in for you. My advise is that you don’t resist, do what she wants and hope she loses interest.”

I respond “She never said anything about shaving.”

He replies “It doesn’t matter; this is her world. You’d do best to remember that.”

He continues shaving “I left a tuft above your cock; she likes that.”

I nearly freak as he starts shaving my balls. But James continues as if nothing is unusual “You’ll want to keep up with this shaving daily. It’s easier that way. And just in case Mistress calls you in for a surprise inspection”.

When James is done, I give him heartfelt “Thank you”. He heads off to inform Mistress that I’m ready.

My cock and balls look so strange hairless.

Mistress returns and says “Much better.”

She pulls up a big screen TV in front of me. She reads the title from a DVD “Greek Orgy” before inserting it in the player.

“Something to get you in the mood” she jokes “I’ll be back in a bit”. Mistress leaves again, I guess for another client.

The screen comes alive with eight couples engaged maltepe escort in varying sexual activities. My cock rises to a full pulsing erection.

As the porn video runs my cock cycles from full erection to semi-rigid and back.

I notice, slowly, one by one the female actresses seem to be exiting the scene; leaving the male actors pleasuring each other.

After about 50 minutes there are only men performing sex acts.

I’ve never watched male porn before. While I am embarrassed about being slightly aroused, I am so sex-starved from not having an orgasm in a month. I think even a video of two horses doing it would get me off right now.

Mistress returns well after the movie has stopped.

“Was the movie good? A little frustrating perhaps?” she asks.

“Yes mistress” I respond.

“Good” she continues.

Mistress puts in another DVD this one of a woman slowly blowing a guy. She pulls up a chair and puts on latex gloves. Then she instructs “While I am performing this procedure, you must sit still and let me do all the work”.

She applies lube to my cock and slowly starts to jerk me off.

After a few strokes I thrust my hips forward. She abruptly pinches my cock head hard causing me to jump.

She scolds “I told you NOT TO MOVE. I want you to sit there passively. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Yes mistress” I yelp.

Only then does she release my cock head and continue stroking me. She expertly keeps me on the edge until I can’t resist and thrust again.

This time she pinches harder and holds it for 15 seconds before threatening me “If you move again, I’m putting you back in that cage.” After a few more seconds, she releases and resumes her slow deliberate manipulation. It takes all my effort to sit still. My heart is racing and my breathing quick short breaths. I am sweating as if in a race. She tortures me this way for 20 minutes before mercifully letting me cum. I moan aloud in relief. It is the most intense orgasm I have ever experienced.

“Thank you mistress” I sigh.

As she re-cages me, I whine a little. Which results in a few strikes of her crop.

She says “I have a couple bidders lined up for rights to your first fuck.”

I’m escorted to the reception area and allowed to redress.

Mistress hands me my next appointment slip and says next time you owe an additional $250 for the shave.

It is odd how one adapts to situations no matter how bizarre. My daily shave becomes routine. My desire for relief grows as before, but so does my anticipation of another mind blowing orgasm.

Upon arriving for my next milking, Mistress answers the door and has me crawl nude to the bench where I’m again cuffed. My cock springs to life when freed.

Mistress picks up a DVD at random and inserts it into the player. But her phone rings and she leaves the room to take a call.

This video is of two guys taking turns sucking each other cocks. As before I’m so desperate I can’t help but being aroused. Mistress returns and sees what is playing. She starts to apologize then sees my cock at attention. “Jay” she asks “are you gay?”

“No” I insist “I’m just so frustrated from being caged for so long.”

“Maybe so” she agrees. She goes to a drawer and removes an O-ring gag. “Open” she commands as she attaches the gag to my head. She leaves to get something from the wall behind me where I can not see. When she returns she’s standing before me wearing a strap on dildo. She grabs hair at the back of my head and slowly pushes her “cock” in my mouth through the open gag.

“Stop resisting” she emphasizes with a slap at my thigh from her ever present crop.

Once she is in, Mistress asks “Good? Not much like the real thing though.”

She pulls out and pushes back in again.

“Don’t make me do all the work” Mistress commands “bob on it”. Followed by another whack of the crop.

I move my head back and forth sliding her in and out. She reaches down with her crop and strokes my cock.

She pulls out and removes the gag. Then re-positions herself before me. “OK suck it” she demands.

I resist.

Frustrated Mistress says “For heaven sake you just had the fucking thing in your mouth. When will you learn to submit? If you don’t start following my instructions without delay, it will be months before you cock sees the light of day. Am I getting through?”

“Yes mistress” I tremble.

I eagerly start bobbing on Mistress’s cock. She uses her crop to tease my cock. But it is not necessary, perversely I am extremely turned on about being so completely under her control.

After a few minutes, Mistress withdraws and pulls up a chair. She puts on latex gloves as we watch the video together.

She makes various comments obviously trying to make me uncomfortable: “Look at the size of that guy… You can tell the actors like each other see how aroused they both are… There’s nothing like holding a cock in your mouth”.

She lubes up and much quicker than last time, strokes me to an orgasm while the porn star’s cock is getting sucked.

In the reception room, Mistress hands me my next appointment slip and a list of four magazines she would like me to bring to our next session.

Before I leave she commands “You will hang one of the magazine centerfolds next to your bed, hang one in the bathroom, hang one on your refrigerator door and keep one folded in your wallet”.

I arrived at the house to find Thomas on his knees, wearing only a black leather loincloth that barely covered him. This was a welcoming and familiar sight, but now I noticed a strip of leather hanging beneath, it appeared to be a leash and I was very curious to see what secret he had tucked away under his scant attire.

I entered the foyer and locked the door shut. I leaned down and kissed him then picked up the end of the narrow strip, pulling it tight, giving it a tug. He gasped and the loincloth raised as I realized that it must be attached directly to him somehow.

I tugged the leash and he let out another sharp gasp. “This is the correct position to welcome me,” I said. “But you need your collar.”

“Yes Mistress, I am sorry.”

I still held the end of the leash and began walking into the kitchen as he crawled behind me. He struggled to crawl at the right pace to keep some slack in the leash.

“At least you got this right,” I remarked, seeing our toy chest on the table. He reached up and scuffled through the various implements, finding his collar and handed it to me. I wrapped it around his neck as he kneeled before me and I buckled him in, securing it with a heart shaped lock.

“You got a new lock, I approve,” I commented, taking a key from the table, stringing it onto my necklace. Knowing that there was another key that he was keeping for himself made me aware that my slave would have to be punished for the transgression. But now, my pussy was damp and hungry and needed attention.

“Lay down,” I commanded, and he complied as I lifted my skirt and sat down on his face, smothering him with my pussy. “Eat.”

His tongue lapped me, his lips suckled my lips and clit and quickly drove me into ecstasy. I ground myself into him and let his mouth continue to work it’s magic. I tugged the leash to remind him that despite my current state of pleasure, he was serving me. I came hard and felt myself drench him in my juices.

I got up and went to a chair next to the sturdy kitchen table. “Get up,” I told him. He stood in front of me and I commanded him to remove the loincloth and show me what he’d been hiding. He tugged a string and it fell to the floor, revealing a most lovely sight.

Wrapped tightly around the top of his sack was a thick black ball stretcher featuring buckles and a ring. This was where the leash was attached. His balls were swollen and violet and looked like juicy ripe plums. My eyes devoured the site of his gorgeous muscular body and the tightness of his sack buckled into the harness.

Just as I was about to take a lick at his cock my phone rang. I got up and retrieved it from my purse; it was a neighbor and I tapped to answer the call.

I’d promised to donate some clothes to her church and she wanted to come and get them. As we talked, I watched Thomas’ naked chiseled body flex and gyrate in front of me.

“Is this a bad time, you seem distracted?” she asked, snapping me back to our conversation.

“Yeah, I’m, uh… interviewing a new yard man,” I replied, winking and grabbing Thomas by his plump balls, grinning at him slyly. He groaned in pure ecstasy and pain and my pussy began to throb as I spoke causally to her while squeezing this delicious man’s balls.

“Michelle, let me know if you’re not okay,” she said, sensing that something was up.

“No, I’m fine, just preoccupied. Call me later and I can try to have the boxes ready for you.”

I guess she was concerned about my safety, because unbeknownst to us, she went through the back yards to come see what was going on.

Meanwhile, Thomas had put some maltepe escort music on and climbed up onto the table to give me a show. Glad to be off the phone, I turned my total attention to his dancing, and slid my panties off and began to touch myself, sliding my fingers across my pussy and rubbing my clit. He moved to the music, leash in hand, his cock bouncing, and those swollen tied up balls… I was wet with desire.

We were far too distracted to realize that she had come to check on me and was now standing outside, peering into a window, watching us.

We were both highly aroused and when the song ended he got down from the table as I gestured him toward me. He stood before me as I sat, still rubbing myself as he watched. It lit him up to see my fingers run across my slit and dive into my moist opening, then I spread my legs further and showed him my plump eager pussy, exposing my pierced clit and bright pink hole. His cock was hard with drops of cum leaking out.

I grasped his balls pulling him closer, and licked him. He tasted wonderful, and I wrapped my lips around his shaft and sucked him deep into my mouth, tickling and squeezing his balls. My tongue flicked at the leaking slit and ran along the stiff ridge around the tip, holding his cock firmly with one hand as the other massaged his bulging sack. He began thrusting his hips, sliding himself in and out of my mouth, hitting my throat. He groaned and gurgling sounds came out of me as he held my head and fucked my mouth. I felt his hardness and the veins of his shaft sliding across my tongue as he pumped, his balls throbbing in my hand.

Suddenly, he stopped. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, stepping back and cupping his hands over his erection and stretched engorged balls. The look on his face was one of horror.

“What’s wrong??” I asked.

He pointed to the wall behind me and muttered again, “shit.”

I turned around to see two women peeping through the window, staring at us, transfixed. Panic struck me too for a moment. It was the church lady and another neighbor. How much had they seen?

But then a strange calm washed over me, maybe it was my high state of arousal, maybe something more.

“Fuck it,” I said, grabbing his balls pulling him back toward me.

“But they’re watching us!”

“Well, I told her to call me later, but I guess she walked over here, and obviously called a friend.”

He kept glancing up, “they’re still there.”

“Listen babe, look at me,” I said. “We are in the house, officially they are trespassing and we don’t owe them anything, they can leave.”

“But…”

“No, if they want to peep on us let’s make it something they’ll remember.”

Thomas’ face blushed but his cock grew harder and bounced at the thought of these overly pious women crouched down and peering through the window. And cocks don’t lie. It turned him on.

“Now put your hands down and let them see your gorgeous hungry package,” I commanded.

He looked down at his crotch and hesitated before slowly moving his hands away.

“I’m sure they enjoy this view as much as I do,” I said as he moaned in embarrassment and pride.

I licked around his balls and then up his cock, looking up at him with a wicked grin.

“Turn around and lay against the table,” I said sternly. His eyes darted toward them, then back to me. My panties were off but I was fully dressed in a black skirt, camisole and blouse while he was completely naked except for the buckled strap around his bulging balls.

He hesitated, knowing that despite the manavgat escort fact that these women had just watched me suck his cock, leaning over the table would expose him fully to the peeping neighbors. “Do it!” I demanded.

He turned and leaned against the table.

“You know how to present yourself,” I said. “Get those feet apart and that ass up.”

“Uuhhh,” he exhaled, but obeyed.

“Stay, I’ll be right back.” I said, leaving him to retrieve my paddle.

He held his position, thinking about how the neighbors had a clear view of his raised ass and dangling cock and balls, and he knew what was coming, they’d see him get that sweet ass whipped.

I returned and rubbed his cheeks, never looking out the window as if no one was out there. The first strike landed hard and Thomas bucked and groaned and started to get up.

“Hold your position!” I commanded, applying more smacks.

I glanced around and could see that the women were still gaping at us through the window, shocked but enthralled. I rubbed his pink cheeks and ran my fingers down his crack, across his taint, and tickled his balls again, making him wriggle and moan. I continued spanking, landing the paddle sharply on one side then the other until he was grinding against the table, cock bobbing and balls swinging with each hit.

I created a lovely strawberry pattern on his ass with my paddle and when it had turned bright red I stopped. He was gasping and had temporarily forgotten about his audience.

“Stand up and turn around, hands behind your head, feet wide,” I said.

He was panting but complied and stood at full height, torso stretched open, purple aching balls still adorned in their binding, rock hard cock protruding out straight in front of him. I throbbed, aching for him, but was enjoying this too much to stop now.

I glanced back over my shoulder and saw them still staring through the window at us. “Turn around,” I said, “but slowly, all the way until that beautiful cock is pointing back at me.”

He trembled a bit, looking toward the window then slowly began to turn. I sat watching his cock twitch as he turned, showing us all his welted ass, swollen sack and dripping cock from all angles.

“Now let’s show them how much you love to suck my pussy, I’m sure they’ve never had that much pleasure,” I said. “They should know what they’re missing.” I turned my chair to face the window.

Thomas moaned and sat down, kissing my thighs. He started to pull my skirt up but I stopped him. “Put your head underneath, you’re the naked one,” I said.

He draped himself under my clothes and began licking my pussy. I was already drenched but having him on his knees with his red ass sticking up toward the window in plain site of the entranced neighbors, feeling his mouth again, brought me right to the edge quickly. Soon I felt heat radiate through my body and began to shudder and scream as I squeezed his head between my legs. He lifted my hips and sucked every drop of juice out of me as I came.

“I need to cum so bad,” he moaned, looking up at me from between my legs.

I looked over and saw them still watching and laughed.

“We should give them a good ending,” I replied, nodding my head toward the window. “Stay as you are.”

I walked back to my bag and he listened as I shuffled around inside it again, he wondered what I’d come back to him with this time. He stayed on his hands and knees and strained his neck to look but didn’t have a clear view. I found what I was seeking, but put it behind my back out şişli escort of his sight as I walked around to his rear, still stinging but obediently raised. “Look forward,” I said.

Thomas heard a snap but couldn’t see me as I opened a small bag containing various soft brushes. I paused, deciding which one to use before choosing the widest. It was two inches across and had feathery light bristles. I ran it across his burning cheeks and he moaned, surprised by the gentle sensation, not sure what I was doing.

I spread his cheeks and swept it slowly upward across his tight puckered hole, then flicked it lightly up and down across his sack.

His back arched as the brush fluttered between his legs and he sighed, “that feels so good.”

I ran the bristles up the underside of his cock and they surrounded it, all the tender ends just barely making contact with his skin. He let out a deep aching groan, realizing that as sweet and soft and good this felt, it was making him more desperate to cum. His thighs began to shake and he started thrusting his hips.

I placed my hand on the small of his back and popped the brush against his ass, making contact with the handle. “Stay still!”

He let out a loud gasp and panted out, “Yes Mistress, anything if you’ll let me cum.” His cock was leaking more cum and his balls looked like they were about to burst.

“Remember, you’re giving your neighbors a show,” I said, reminding him of the faces pressed against his window.

“Oh please,” he pleaded, his brain whirling with thoughts of them watching his desperate submission fueled by his intense need for relief.

I ran the brush along his thighs as he moaned. “I told you to stay still,” I repeated as his body trembled and he fought to obey. The muscles in his back rippled, and he was becoming breathless as the small soft fibers flowed across his bound balls and bouncing cock.

“Please!! Please!!” he begged.

“Okay, sit down and let’s let them watch you shoot that load.”

Panting hard he responded, “I’m not sure I can do that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are up to the task.” He sat and I unbuckled the band around his sack, watching his balls draw up toward his groin.

“Oh,” he gasped. “I do need to cum.”

“Then show me, show us all,” I replied. “Spread your legs and stroke yourself. Cum for us.”

He looked at me and then at the faces watching him through the window.

“Help me Mistress.”

“No. Jerk yourself and let us see you squirt out all that cum, every drop of it.”

He looked down at his purple aching cock and balls, opened his knees and began stroking himself. I sat down next to him and ran my fingers across the space between his ass and balls and his breath caught in his throat. I tapped his balls and he started stroking harder, throwing his head back, breathing heavily.

“I can’t, they’re watching me,” he gasped.

“You will cum for all of us or you won’t cum at all. I’m going to count down from ten.”

“Uh huh,” he breathed, knowing exactly what I meant. He would either release by the time I got to zero or he wouldn’t at all. And he was desperate.

I started at ten and began the countdown, “nine… eight… seven… six… don’t make me have to leave you like this… five… four… three… you’d better shoot that now or you won’t get another chance… two… I don’t care who is watching you…”

He stroked furiously.”Ahhhhhh!!” he shouted as he began pumping streams of cum, his legs rigid, toes pointed, more and more of his milky liquid shooting out of him. I squeezed his balls and pressed my finger against his taint and he emptied himself completely, gasping.

As he slumped back trying to catch his breath I turned and looked directly at the nosy neighbors. They certainly had something to get off on later tonight.

I stood up and with a theatrical twirl of my hand I bowed, standing beside my cum drenched man, and watched them scurry away.

Every person on this Earth enjoys sex. Sometimes you just don’t have a sexual partner. A lot of us are happy with resorting to simple masturbation, but others need something a little more extreme. I was one that got bored just whacking it off when I didn’t have a sexual partner in my life. I was always looking for something more. So a couple of months back I decided to purchase my first sex toy. It was a cyber skin mold of a porn star’s vagina. It was pretty high priced, but I had faith it would be worth it. I bought it online and had it shipped to my house. At least I thought it was coming to my house.

I was supposed to receive my package in 7 to 10 business days. As a broke college kid, I couldn’t afford the quick and speedy shipping method. After 2 weeks I still didn’t have what I ordered. I called the company I bought it from and they assured me that it had been delivered already. I became fairly frustrated because I figured someone had stolen it. I just spent a good 200 bucks on something I won’t ever get to enjoy. I was pretty pissed.

The next day I went out to breakfast with some friends. I just got home from college 2 weeks ago and had yet to get a summer job so I had a lot of free time. When I got home I noticed my neighbor Lisa was outside doing some yard work.

Lisa is a 42 year old mother of four. She had lived next door to me for the last 15 years. I used to hang out with her two oldest sons. They both moved away and her two younger sons are still in elementary school.

She noticed me getting out of my vehicle.

“Nathan! Can you come over here a minute please?” She yelled.

I really disliked when people used my full name, but I was eager to help.

“Of course, Lisa. How have you been?” I responded as I started my way over to her.

“Oh I’ve been okay. Things with the divorce are finally over so that’s a relief.”

“I’m sorry to hear about you and Paul. I wish things would have worked out for you two.” I consoled.

“Well this is for the best you know so I’m just moving on with my life now, but enough about me. I need to talk to you about something.”

“What is it Lisa?” I asked

She responded, “Well the other day there was a package on our porch that had your name on it.”

My stomach sank.

“Oh yes, I have been expecting that.” I responded nervously.

“Well, I kind of got curious and opened it.”

My stomach turned and my heart dropped.

“I’m sorry that you found that.”

“Don’t apologize!” She exclaimed.

“I played around with it a little bit. I hope you don’t mind. It’s extremely realistic.” She said. “How much did you pay for it?”

“Uhmm a little more than 200 dollars.” I responded.

I’ll admit that I always found Lisa attractive. She is an extremely attractive 42 year old woman. Long dark brown hair with an aging face, but has a fantastic body. She has a D cup chest with a flat stomach. Her waist is what always got me. It’s tiny and tight for her age. She was always a fantasy for me and, although her talking about a sex toy with me was hot, I was embarrassed.

“Wow that is a lot of money to spend on a sex toy.” She said.

“I know, but…” I started.

“For someone to spend that much on a sexual device… They must have an addiction.” She interrupted.

“I wouldn’t say that.” I responded.

“200 Dollars?? You definitely have a problem. I think your parents should get you some help.”

“No no no. No one else has to know about this right??” I begged.

“I don’t know. I think your parents would like to know.” She responded.

“Come on can’t we make a deal or something? How about I finish this yard work for you and we can just keep it our secret?” I asked.

“I have an idea.” She said.

“You’re going to be my slave for the next week. I have a lot that needs done around this house and I could use you. You’ll do exactly as I say. If you don’t obey me I’m letting your parents know all about what I found on my porch.”

“Well, I have no choice. Your wish is my command.”

“Good you can start by finishing this yard work for me.” She said with a grin.

So I went to work. While cutting the grass I just kept thinking of what in the world she will be having me doing this next week. I figured it wasn’t that bad. I’ll do some manual labor for her and then I can go on. I also wasn’t too upset that I had to spend a lot of time with şişli escort her. She was always nice to me and I didn’t mind looking at her. I had no idea what she had planned.

I got the yard work done and she came out and told me I could go home.

“Good work. You can head home but come back here at 9am tomorrow. I’ve got a big day planned for you.”

“Okay.” I replied.

The next day came and I went over and knocked on the door. She answered wearing a tight pair of jeans and a black tank top that showed a lot of cleavage.

“Come in.” She said as we walked through the house.

“So what are we doing today?” I asked.

“Oh you’ll see. Come to the basement with me.”

I followed her down to the basement. It was pretty clean, but empty. Cement flooring with steal posts holding the house up.

“Get used to it down here. It’s where we will be all day today.” She said.

“Okay.” I replied.

“Alright, this is what is going to happen today. I’m going to go upstairs and grab two bags and bring them down. You have until I bring the second bag down to be completely naked.”

“W-w-what?” I stuttered.

“You heard me and if you want your secret to be safe with me you better listen.”

She walked upstairs. I couldn’t believe what was going on. All I knew is that I had to get undressed and fast.

I got my shirt off and my pants half off as she came down with the first bag.

She looked at me and smiled as she went back upstairs.

I hurried and got the rest of my clothes off as she came back down with the other bag. I stood there completely naked in front of her. My hands covered my dick as I just stared at her.

“Good, you listened.” She stated as she reached into one of the bags.

She grabbed a bunch of rope and walked over to me.

“Stand between those two poles.” She commanded

I did as I was told. She grabbed a stool and stood on it in front of me.

“Give me your hand.” She ordered.

I lifted my right hand up to her and she grabbed it. She reached it as high as it would go and tied my wrist to the metal pole tightly. She then did the same with the other hand. She got off the stole and looked at my completely exposed penis.

“Not bad. You might be more useful than I first thought.”

I just stared at her.

“Now spread your legs so that they are touching the poles on each end.”

I tried but they wouldn’t reach.

“They won’t go any farther.” I said.

She then bent down and forced my leg to touch the pole and tied it there as hard as she could. She repeated the process with the other leg.

“Does that hurt?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Get used to pain.”

She went back to one of the bags and grabbed a black whip out of it. She walked up to me and said,

“You’re addicted to sex, Nate. After we are done with this week you aren’t going to want anything to do with sex anymore. I’m going to cure you.”

Then she pulled the whip back and smacked me on the stomach.

“Ahhh Fuck!” I shouted.

“That’s nothing you little bitch.” She said.

She started whipping me consistently. It hurt. My stomach was turning red along with my breasts. Then she moved behind me. She started smacking my ass as hard as she could.

“Ah ah fuck ah fuck.” I let out a noise every time she hit me.

After about an hour of her whipping my entire body she stopped.

“Okay now for the real fun. I’m going to get on my knees and start playing with your dick. I’m going to do whatever I want with it, but you aren’t allowed to cum. If you do there will be an extremely hard punishment that you do not want. Do you understand?”

“Yes I understand.”

She then went down on me. She started stroking my dick pretty hard with her hand. It got hard fast.

“This thing is pretty big. I think I want it in my mouth. Is that okay with you?” She asked.

I didn’t reply.

“Of course it is.” She said.

She put it deep in her mouth and started sucking. It felt amazing and made my knees weak. She then started stroking the base of my cock and sucking on the tip. It was the best blowjob I had ever received. Then she stopped sucking and reminded me I can’t cum.

“Don’t cum. Remember what I said.”

“I know.” I responded.

Then she tortured me with her hand. She started furiously tuzla escort stroking my cock with her right hand. As fast as she could she was stroking.

“Don’t cum Nate. Remember.”

She continued to stroke it fast

“Don’t you fucking cum. You’ll regret it. You can hold it. Don’t cum.”

It was becoming impossible for me to continue to hold it in.

“Don’t cum. Don’t cum. God I bet you want to don’t you? You just want to release it all over my face, but you can’t.”

She was torturing me and I knew I couldn’t last much longer.

“Don’t cum. Don’t you…”

“Ah fuck!” I interrupted as I came all over her face.

“I told you not to Nate. You fucked up.” She said as she walked upstairs.

She was gone for a while and I was just standing there thinking. I had no idea what my punishment was going to be. I kept thinking the worst but nothing prepared me for when she walked down the stairs.

She came down in front of me still wearing her black tank top but her jeans were off and in place of it was a massive strap on.

I gasped… I didn’t know what to think. It was huge. It had to have been 10 inches long. It looked just like my dick, but bigger.

“Well, Nate I told you not to do it. Now we have to rearrange you.”

She undid my hands and ankles.

“Okay get on your knees and face away from me.”

I did as I was told afraid of further punishment. She tied my knees to the two metal poles I was between. She stretched my legs out pretty far but not as far as they were before. They were tied tight and I couldn’t move them.

“Oh I’ll be right back. I forgot something.”

She ran upstairs and came back holding a black bra.

“Here put this on.” She said as she handed it to me.

I obeyed and she got back behind me and clipped it together. Then she tied my hands above my head to the same posts as my knees. I was now on my knees tied to two metal poles, wearing a bra, with a strap on in my face.

“Well we have 3 hours until I have to go pick up my kids from school. For the next 3 hours you are going to be the female and I am going to be the male.”

“What…?” I asked.

“You heard me. Who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy it.” She replied with a grin.

Then without hesitation she shoved the strap on right in my mouth and began to throat fuck me.

“Ah yeah suck that nicely bitch.”

I had never been in a situation like this before. She was fucking my throat with no mercy. I was gagging and I couldn’t breathe at all. I was gasping to catch my breath on every chance I got. She was relentless just going at it. My eyes watering and I couldn’t breathe. I was miserable and she was having the time of her life.

After about an hour of relentless face fucking, she pulled out.

“That was fun wasn’t it?”

“Oh yeah that was great.” I said with sarcasm as I caught my breath.

I got a slap across the face.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

She went over to her bags and grabbed some more rope. She tied two long pieces of rope to the two metal poles in front of me. Then she said,

“You know I was going to use lube, but after that smartass comment I don’t think I will.”

“Lube for what!?” I exclaimed.

“For when I fuck you in the ass with my monster cock.” She replied.

“Please Don’t. I’ll do anything else. Please.” I begged.

She didn’t respond. Instead she reached up and untied my arms. Then she bent me over and grabbed them. She pulled my arms as far forward as she could and tied them down to the two pieces of rope she had tied to the other poles.

I now lay bent over with the bra on my chest touching the ground and my ass up in the air as my knees were still tied to the original posts. I was in prime doggy style position and I knew it. I started to beg again as she walked behind me.

“Please don’t fuck me Lisa. Please don’t. I’ll clean your entire house. I won’t ever cum again. I don’t care. Just please.”

“You’re so pathetic Nate. I’m going to love every moment of this. Your ass is mine.”

She got on her knees behind me and set her strap on cock right on my ass.

“Look at this virgin asshole. I didn’t expect you to be so tight. I might just split you open.”

She spread my ass as far as she could and set the tip of her dick right on my hole. She started to press in pendik escort on it and I felt it start to stretch.

“Oh my god. Please Lisa. I beg you please!” I exclaimed with panic.

She pushed harder and then she thrusted as hard as she could and about half of the strap on entered my asshole. It split my anus in half and I could feel it start to bleed.

“AHH!!! Fuck!!” I screamed.

The pain was unimaginable. My eyes started to water as I started to cry in embarrassment and humiliation.

“Aw look at that. You’re bleeding. Maybe the blood will lube it up for you. Time for the other half.” She said with no remorse.

She pushed hard and the entire cock was in my ass. It hurt so badly and I just had to accept it.

“Fuck you!” I yelled.

“Oh honey you can only dream of fucking me.” She replied.

She then started to thrust in and out slowly.

“Ahhh.” I let out

Then she started going faster.

“Ohh my god. Jesus Christ.” I sighed.

And then out of nowhere she went full speed. She was pounding my ass as hard and as fast as she could. Her thighs slapping mine as she pounded me. My balls were swinging back and forth from the fucking.

“AH! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! Ah my god! Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah!” I was screaming and then she said,

“We still have an hour bitch! You better start enjoying this because I’m not stopping until you cum!”

I was confused as she continued to pound my ass. Was it even possible to have an anal orgasm? I didn’t know. I never even thought of being fucked in the ass before. How was I supposed to enjoy it? All I knew is that if I wanted this to end I had to figure out how to.

Another 15 minutes passed as she continued to fuck my ass. She wasn’t tiring one bit. I noticed the pain in my ass stopped and I could feel the strap on go in and out of my ass. With the humiliation gone at this point and the pain no longer there, I was able to focus on what was happening.

I had one of the most attractive women I know fucking me in the ass with a strap on. I couldn’t see behind me but I could imagine her tits bouncing up and down as she pounded my ass. The thought kind of turned me on and then she spoke,

“Oh yeah. Its going in and out easier now, Nate. You know what that means?”

“Hmm! No.” I responded with a moan.

“Your body is starting to lube it up for me. Your body is starting to enjoy this. You’re enjoying being fucked in the ass!” She exclaimed.

I didn’t know what the hell she was saying. I didn’t know if she was right or just saying things to fuck with me, I was starting to enjoy this. My dick was getting hard as she pounded my ass.

“Ahh fuck! You’re right.”

“You love me pounding your ass don’t you bitch?” she asked

“Yes! I fucking love it!” I yelled.

“You want me to fuck you harder Nate!!?”

“Yes! Fuck me harder Lisa!”

She started to fuck me harder as she started letting out little moans. I was loving this. I was enjoying being fucked in the ass. I started to feel an orgasm build but this was different. I didn’t know what was happening, but it was feeling good and I wanted more.

“Ahh Ahh!! Fuck Lisa! I think I might cum!”

“Ah Oh yes baby! I want you to!”

“Ah fuck yes Faster!” I begged!

“Come on Nate! Cum for me!”

“Ah fuck! Ohhhh!! Fucking yes!! I’m gunna cum!!!” I screamed!

“Ah yeah Nate! Cum!” She demanded!

“Oh My God! Yes! I’m cumming!! Fuck! Ohhhh AHhhhh! Yes!” I shouted as I came.

“Hmmm yeah Nate. How was that?” She asked as she pulled out.

“That… That was fucking amazing Lisa.” I responded.

I just had the best orgasm of my life. I don’t care how I got it but that was the best feeling I have ever felt. I knew I loved it and I didn’t care that I did.

Lisa got up and started to untie me. She freed all of my limbs and I stood up finally. She helped me remove the bra I had on and then I reached for my pants. I was weak and I was sore, but I felt great.

Then she took off the strap on, revealing her sexy black lace thong she had underneath. Then she grabbed the cock and put it in her mouth. She sucked on it a good 5 or 6 times.

“So you liked that?” Lisa asked.

“Yes. This was one of the best days of my life.” I responded.

I got dressed and walked upstairs with her behind me.

“Well I have to go get the kids.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night Lisa. See you tomorrow at 9?” I asked

“Tomorrow at 9. Don’t be late.” She replied with a grin.

I left feeling like a completely different person. I was beaten and battered but I was ready for whatever she could throw at me now. After all, I would have to be. We still had 5 more days of this.

The End.

When you are restrained in bondage, like I am now, you need to be able to let your mind wander. My arms are held up behind me in the T-bar forcing my head down so that I can only stare at the terrazzo floor between my feet. In this situation, letting your mind wander helps while away the hours. Thinking about being held in an awkward position only reminds you of your discomfort. The wife — who ordered me into this bondage position – doesn’t like the word pain. It’s overly dramatic. Discomfort is acceptable. Sometimes when she has me, as now, in an afternoon of bondage on the T-bar she will call me up on the tablet from her office and ask how I’m doing. I’ll say, ‘I’m in some discomfort, Madam,’ or even push it to; ‘I’m in a lot of discomfort, Madam.’ She will reply with something like, ‘That is the whole idea in the first place isn’t it, boy? What would be the point otherwise? And I’ll do the ‘Yes, Madam’ thing, bobbing my head in that compliant underling way that she likes.

Since you can’t do anything about your discomfort, you may as well distract yourself by thinking about other things. Other things besides time, that is. You shouldn’t think about time; not the actual time of day, nor the time that has yet to elapse before you are released. It will only get you into troubled waters. Don’t go there. The wife, who thinks a lot about these things, has kindly ensured that the tablet set in the wall opposite my bondage position is showing the time in large digital format. It is also making a slow steady ticking sound. My wife controls the tablet. My punishment for a minor misdemeanour is four hours in the T-bar with my feet spread by a four foot spreader bar. That’s two fours; eight, or four squared; sixteen. See? You can do mental arithmetic to while away the time or, better still, think happy thoughts. But the pain and cramping keep pushing back in. I try and shift my position a bit to ease it. You can’t shift much when your feet are held in the spreader bar. You can flex your knees a bit; up and down, but each flex down just pulls out of your shoulders more: different pain, but still pain. So you go still again after a few flexes and try and think of something else.

Today, I can’t actually see the tablet on the wall across from me because of my feet being in the spreader. The tablet is positioned a bit less than five feet off the ground, just below head height. Normally when I am held in the T-bar, I am bent over just a bit, due to my wrists being held about six inches above waist height behind me. So it is fairly easy to glance up and see the tablet, but you don’t want to force your head up all the time. The natural position is to let it drop and just look at the ground. Now the spreader bar changes things drastically. A four foot spread doesn’t seem like much but it is about as far apart as an ordinary mortal’s feet can go with losing control. You are at the limit of natural stretching. You feel the backs of your thighs begin to cramp up. The ligaments that run along the inside of your thighs up into the groin are stretched taut and hard. The spreader bar may keep you from going into the splits but the tops of your legs feels like a chicken drumstick must feel as it is about to be pulled away from the carcass. And that’s not all. As your legs are spread ever wider, your back is pulled down lower, so you are dragging more out of your arms that are fixed that bit higher behind you in the T-bar. This makes your shoulders bend over more, forcing your head down till you are looking between your legs. There is no way you can lift your head enough to look in front of you, never mind high enough to see the tablet. So while you are obliged to listen to the clock ticking, you can’t actually see the time, which, if fact, is a good thing. Instead, you get to look a lot at your shrivelled penis and watch the strange but constant slow, crawling movement of the skin of your scrotum. Stranger still is the sight of one testicle slowly pulsing and then the other. Creepy; a bit like how a slug or caterpillar moves.

Not long after her first big promotion my wife bought this old mansion in a gated community which has a little guard hut at the main gate, manned by some old guy who has been doing the job for a hundred years. She had our house (her house actually, but I live here too, so I say it’s our house) fully made over and added a few special extras with me in mind. She got the whole of the ground floor done in terrazzo with under-floor heating; no radiators, no pipes, no fuss. Terrazzo is hard wearing and easy to clean too. I should know. My room is at the back on the ground floor. I call it my room, but more correctly it is the room she put me in. It has one window on the back wall opposite the door. The window is circular and high up. It makes a nice architectural feature when viewed from the back garden. Inside, it’s too high for me to see anything other than sky and it doesn’t open. This is also a useful security feature when you want to keep somebody locked tekirdağ escort in. She tells me the glass is unbreakable. The door into my room is a sliding solid door, electronically controlled. There is no handle on the inside. That’s okay, she has it programmed to open at six in the morning and close at nine at night, but she often overrides that and operates it herself directly from her phone, one of the joys of the connected house. The light switch is also on the outside of the doorway and can also be operated remotely. She tells me it is useful for her job to be able to practically test out this sort of stuff. And boy does she test some way-out electronic stuff on me. The walls are painted a hard industrial quality grey with a wipe clean gloss finish.

There is a shower and toilet in one corner of my room under the window wall. It’s an all in one. The toilet is like those old fashioned French hole-in-the-ground ceramic square jobs with two steps for your feet on either side of the hole. You have to squat down to do your business. As you do your eyes are drawn to the camera she has mounted over the door that is focussed directly on you, its red LED blinking as it records your humiliation. There is a chrome push button on the corner wall beside the toilet for the flush. There is a shower gel dispenser mounted on the wall beside where hot and cold shower mixer control would be. There is just a push button instead that lets the shower run for about 30 seconds and then you have to push it again. It stops you relaxing or luxuriating in a nice shower. Reminds you how little control you have. The first blast of the shower is cold and then it heats up to a normal temperature. She can probably control the temperature back at the pump or something, because sometimes for punishment she puts me on cold showers only for a week. Usually if she feels I’m getting too horny. The main shower head is directly over the toilet square. You stand on the two foot steps of the toilet to wash yourself while the toilet area gets cleaned as well. You can switch the shower flow over to a second shower head lower down. It is mounted on a flexible hose and is normally used for intimate cleaning. No need for toilet paper. Too much information, I hear you say. We’ll move on.

My bed is located in the other corner of the window wall, also covered by the camera over the door. A second camera mounted high on the window wall looks out over the opposite half of the room, covering the door, the T-bar and the tablet mounted in the opposite wall. There is also a sturdy wooden chair at that end of the room and a built in closet cum cupboard on the wall beside the door. It holds my entire wardrobe of normal and fancy clothes, plus the toys, including a charging station for the butt plug collection. That’s it. The room is not done out like a dungeon, no chains hanging from the ceiling, or St Andrews crosses or cages and stuff that you would associate with a dominatrix’s lair. But all that is needed is discretely available, including some rings that recess into the wall at foot and shoulder height, and more associated with the bed. There is a double power socket in the wall near the door. It is on its own circuit and, as with the light, it can be powered on or off from outside the room. It is usually off. A recent arrival, down at that end is Alexa, a little black box now permanently mounted and wired in on the wall near the door. Alexa is my new electronic assistant, my companion according to my wife. Alexa is charged with keeping my timetable on track and making my life in the house less boring, according to my wife who has programmed Alexa to do these things. Alexa is a work in progress in my charitable view. Not quite there yet, thank goodness.

The terrazzo flooring is a good aid for letting the mind wander. Terrazzo , which was invented by the Romans or the Greeks or the Byzantines, long time ago anyway, lasts forever. Little chips of different coloured stone are mixed into some type of cement matrix, polished down smooth and that’s it. All those little flecks and chips of stone have become ships in great naval battles I’ve conducted while held in the T-bar, or islands in an archipelago that I have navigated around in my little raft while wondering about the inhabitants sex lives.

“Slave, time to play a game, acknowledge.”

Here we go. It’s Alexa, my new best friend. I’ve had a couple of day’s experience of handling her intrusions. An immediate appropriate response is required or she gets tetchy. But ‘inviting’ me to play a game is a novelty, though the wife did say this was a possibility.

“Alexa, I understand, thank you.” That’s seems to be the required acknowledgement to any Alexa interjection; no variations allowed, no witty asides or irony appreciated. Alexa goes straight into it. She doesn’t do preliminaries.

“Slave, what is the longest river in the Americas? Respond in ten seconds. Ten… nine…, tokat escort eight…”

So that’s her idea of a game, a general knowledge quiz. Beats thinking about worse things, I suppose. Let’s see how this goes. But I’d better be quick.

“….five…, four…, three…”

“The Amazon.”

“Correct. Next question: How long is the Amazon approximately; is it A: 5,800 kilometres, B: 6,200 kilometres or C: 6,400 kilometres? Ten…, nine…, eight…”

Into guessing territory now. My wife could be watching my effort online. Her and her work colleagues might be taking bets on my level of general knowledge. All of it is being recorded anyway via the cameras for her later amusement. Might as well go for the middle one. “6,200 kilometres.”

ZZZaaappp! Ouch! I get a powerful shock in the ass from my butt plug.

“Incorrect answer. Choose from the two remaining choices, A: 5,800 kilometres, or C: 6,400 kilometres? Ten…, nine…, eight…”

That was sore. Clearly Alexa is hooked into the telemetry for my butt plug.

“…, four…, three…”

It’s a fifty-fifty call. “6,400 kilometres,” I shout, clenching my buttocks tightly in anticipation of another shock.

“Correct. Next question: What is the longest river in Europe?”

Alexa went on for four more rounds of questions, ten questions in total, all about rivers of the world. I was OK on naming the rivers, not so hot on their lengths. I can tell you that when you get the second go of the multiple choice question wrong, she gives you a double zap in the butt. Everytime. The one thing you cannot fault Alexa on is consistency. As for the learning I got out of it? None. I can no longer tell you how long the Amazon is, or any of the other rivers because after a couple of zaps and double zaps in the butt that just doesn’t matter. The aching and throbbing in your ass is what matters. And she was so polite about it.

“That is the end of the game, Slave. Thank you for playing. You scored six out of a possible ten points. The score has been recorded. We will play another game in one hour, acknowledge.”

“Alexa, I understand, thank you.”

Alexa, the little black box now mounted into the wall in the corner beside door, retired into silence. She’s probably searching the databases of the world for hard questions for her next ‘game.’

Now my asshole is sore, my arms and shoulders are sore, and my spread legs are stretched and stiff. I am in pain, not in discomfort. It’s probably half way into my four hour punishment. The clock ticks on. There are a few little yellowish puddles and splashes on the terrazzo floor between my feet. I can’t help myself when those zaps in the ass hit on a full bladder. I’m not allowed use the toilet during the day; morning and evening only. My wife enjoys me being a little uncomfortable in that department when she comes from the office. Often, as soon as she arrives home and I’m on normal duty, she’ll ask me to go and fill a large glass of water and ice for her knowing the splash of water from the tap will put me under pressure. She’ll sometimes take a few sips while standing beside me at the sink and slowly pour the water and ice out again, splash, plonk, splash, into the sink. Then she’ll ask me to fill the glass with water again while pressing her hand down on my abdomen over my bladder and rubbing her hand round and round. She’ll be satisfied when she sees a little stain of pee spread on my pants front. She’ll make some humiliating remark about me being not fit to be let out or that she’ll have to get me plastic pants and tell me to try not to wet the floor while preparing her dinner. Then she’ll dismiss me with a slap on the bum to go and get her food while she wanders off to relax after her day in the office.

I am watching the slow movement of the little splashes of urine spreading over the terrazzo as the blobs of liquid join up and merge with one another. It’s the lava flow of Mount Kilauea. I see whole villages of marble chips being swallowed up by the inexorable flow of the molten lava. The sex lives of the villagers has been put on hold as they rush to evacuate. I can hear them shouting to one another as they pile their pathetic bundles of stuff onto their mopeds…

“Slave, time to play a game, acknowledge.” Here we go again.

‘Alexa, I understand, thank you.’

I can’t help clenching my buttocks and releasing a further little jet of pee in an involuntary spasm as I anticipate the next series of zaps from Alexa. What will it be now; highest mountains?

It was great composers; where they were born and, as the follow up, when. Not my finest few minutes. Germany or Austria were always fairly safe guesses, but often just a little wrong. I got two out of five nationalities right. Now who would have guessed that Gustav Holst was born in Cheltenham, England? Trick question; not fair. As for year of birth, at least it was multiple choice. I trabzon escort guessed one right first off, another on the second guess and you don’t get a third guess, just a double zap of pain — three times I felt that. Alexa tells me I have scored four points out of a possible ten. I was weak and breathless as I croaked out my obligatory ‘Alexa, I understand, thank you’ response to her summing up of my efforts. Alexa went silent, quietly gloating no doubt at her superior level of general knowledge compared with the average human, counting the days to the great robot take-over. Won’t be long now Alexa, unless we pull your plug first.

Back to the ticking clock, maybe about forty minutes to go. Taking steady breaths, doing some gentle knee flexes. I review my descent from a normal functioning member of society to becoming the willing but helpless slave of this power-mad egomaniac I am married to. It was a slow take down really, but she took me down all the way in the end, as you can see. It started out with clothes. Every married man has heard the immortal words, ‘Surely you are not going out dressed like that.’ It’s a bit of a wakeup call. Nobody ever questioned how you dressed before, not even herself when she was just the girlfriend, but she had just been biding her time. For me, it progressed from ‘you can’t go out looking like that,’ and getting changed into some rigout she approved of, to being an actuality. One night she decided I just couldn’t go out like that and she had no time to wait for me to change. I was left behind. It was like I wasn’t allowed out. Same as being an eight year old kid that is told by his mother he can’t go out to play; this in front of his friends who are all at the front door looking at him like he is a pathetic wimp. That night was all stage managed by her of course, she actually didn’t want me out with her at whatever event we were to attend. I would be cramping her style as a mover and shaker in the IT security sector, or whatever, and she probably wanted to schmooze some top executive over the dinner, angling for a big job.

I have a vivid memory of that evening. Not because of being considered unfit to be seen out in public. I understood even then that it was just a pretext, we had been heading in that direction for some time, but always in play. It was what she said as she swept off out into the night. My good wife said she would deal with me properly when she got home, and slammed the front door behind her. I could have walked then. I still had a credit card, car keys and a paying job; a life. But I didn’t want to walk, no. I wanted to be ‘dealt with properly.’ A massive hard-on marked the moment as I surveyed the pleasurably painful vista of this new domestic life that my imagination laid out before me. The thought of her coming home later and ‘dealing with me properly’ was far more exciting than the prospect of attending, as her dull, non-IT partner, the dinner of whatever techie trade show was in town. I loved the thought of my wife talking to me like that — for evermore. I gloried in the implicit threat of being punished for my slovenly appearance. The whole implied power exchange was the game changer. From now on my wife would treat me like I was the very junior partner in this marriage. She had decided that I should stay at home, she would decide what to she was going to do with me — later, at a time of her choosing. What I thought about it all was no longer a factor in this equation. She would decide. I could hardly sit down for the rest of the night. I paced over and back imagining ever more lurid scenarios. I thought about jacking off, but then I wanted to stay aroused for her return. I wanted to be panting at the door like an excited puppy dog when his mistress comes home. And I was. When she got back at about 2 am I was still up for it, my dick heaving in my trousers. My tongue was probably hanging out. But she was tired.

She quickly disabused me of any notions of immediate gratification. Surely, she said, I could see she was tired, that she needed to get some sleep before work the next day. She said she could see that I was not ready for sleep. She told me I was going to spend the night in the guest room so as not bother her. I was bitterly disappointed at not being ‘dealt with.’ But my good wife had a surprise in store. She let me undress in our bedroom first and then, ignoring my raging and dripping hard-on, she told me to turn around and to put my hands behind my back. I did so and she handcuffed me with the pink fluffy cuffs we had back then for our occasional bit of ‘play.’ I was thrilled. We were back on track to this new and exciting future. I was even more excited when, after pushing me naked and handcuffed into the guest bedroom, she closed the door and turned the key from the outside.

“Be a good boy, she said through the locked door. ‘Try to sleep. You’ll need it.”

“Yes, Madam,” I replied. That was the first time I said that. I lowered my naked and handcuffed self onto the bed and lay there in the dark wallowing in a delirious daze of future servile possibilities; Yes, Madam… Yes, Madam… Yes, Madam… whatever you wish, Madam…is that to your satisfaction, Madam, over and over. Eventually I slept a bit, on and off. Sleeping with your hands handcuffed behind your back is not easy, even at the best of times.