Thursday, October 28, 2010

Self Control

"So, you are telling me that you have been masturbating, every day, since you were 13?" Jamie looked at Mike with a mixture of disgust and amazement.

"Uh, well... maybe since I was 12," Mike could feel the blush heating his face and looked down at the table. He had married Jamie just a year ago, and was blissfully happy. Sometimes she could get a little overbearing, but she was so gorgeous, and he loved her. Mike wasn't that great looking and Jamie's tall, thin, brunette model good looks always made him feel inferior.

"So, you have been masturbating every day since you met me? Since we moved in together? Since we got married? Is that right?" Jamie's questions were almost statements, challenges, asking him to deny the truth.

"Yes. Sometimes more than once." Mike couldn't look at her now, he was looking at the table. He could see her tight fitting top over her perfect breasts, and that was enough to give him a hard on right then. Secretly, he knew he would probably be masturbating again within the hour, just to get this sexual tension out.

Jamie shook her head, not from disbelief but from a sense of bewilderment. "This is unacceptable. My husband can not only not control himself, he is letting loose more than once a day, even days that we have sex. This total lack of self control has got to change. I will not have you doing this. It will stop now, do you understand? No more. More more masturbation unless you ask me first, and don't expect me to say OK. I should be enough for you. We have sex a couple times a week, and if that doesn't satisfy you, well... you just need to learn to control."

"OK, Jamie. I understand. No more jacking off." Mike didn't mean it, he knew down deep he would give in the first time he saw Julie at work, and would head to the restroom and seek relief.

Two weeks later, Jamie asked Mike to join her in the living room after dinner. Jamie was looking her best, her long dark hair silky and straight, a low cut blouse showing her perfect smooth neck and shoulders and some of her ideal cleavage. Tight jeans emphasized a tight ass and perfect legs as she led Mike into the room and sat down opposite him.

Jamie removed a couple of things from a bag. Lifting a plastic freezer bag, she showed it to Mike. "Do you recognize this?"

Inside the bag was a tissue. "Uh, no..."

Jamie opened it and pulled the tissue out by a small corner and let it dangle between them. "This is a tissue filled with your dried semen. I found it in the bathroom trash. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Mike felt sick for a moment and hung his head. He said nothing.

"I also have been in contact with Julie from your work. She says you have been frequenting the restroom recently. A lot. Especially after talking to her. I think we both know what is going on here." Jamie was speaking calmly, but it was clear she was pissed.

"Because you have been unable to control yourself and keep your body fluids to yourself, I am going to take control. You need this, Mike. If you are going to be with me, you have got to learn control, and if you can't, I will take control. Now, remove your pants." Jamie's voice was stern.

Mike stood, nervously removed his pants and his underwear and stood naked from the waist down in front of Jamie. He blushed bright red, because his cock was sticking straight out in a raging erection.

Jamie rose, and went to the kitchen for a moment. When she returned, she had a bowl of ice. Kneeling in front of Mike, she took his cock and shoved it into the ice. Mike gasped, and asked "what are you doing?"

"I need you to control your erections and this is the first step. You will not have an erection without my permission from now on. You will not have an orgasm without my permission from now on. Is this understood?" Jamie was pushing and covering Mike's cock with the ice, watching it shrivel as she spoke.

"Yes, but... Jamie, I don't think this is necessary..." Mike's protests were interrupted by Jamie's calm but firm voice.

"Yes, it is necessary. You were warned, and you have been completely unable to control yourself. Now, hold your cock in this ice until it is nice and small. I need to get something else." Jamie reached over for a couple of other items. One was a small tube of lube, the other was a clear plastic device that had a small curved hollow tube with some rings attached.

With some satisfaction, Jamie observed Mike's cock reduced to a tiny shadow of its former erection. "Good. Now... lets apply a little lube..." She put a small amount of the lube on his cock and spread it around.

Mike looked in horror as the plastic device was brought over to his naked genitals. He now realized what it was, as Jamie began securing it to the sagging, bulbous flesh between his legs. His lubed cock slid into the short curved pipe, enclosing completely. The rings fit tightly around his scrotum, behind his balls.

Tightening the device and making sure it was secure, Jamie produced a small lock. Sliding the lock through holes in the piped part and the rings, she locked the device in place. Mike was now installed with a male chastity device. His cock was completely enclosed by plastic that pressed it into a slightly curved, flacid position and prevented it from being touched in any way except for a tiny slit at the end which allowed urine to pass.

The rings behind the tube which held the device in place behind his balls were tight, tight enough to be uncomfortable. Tight enough that any attempt to remove the device would create excrutiating pain, and perhaps even damage his testicles. "Jamie... this hurts. Its not... comfortable. And it isn't necessary. Besides, it will stop us from having sex. I mean, you have needs, and I am dedicated to servicing you..."

"Mike, shutup. This is my decision. I won't live with a guy that is constantly spurting his cum all over in random places, so this is my sacrifice as well as yours. I can get along with a dildo until you get control of your body." Jamie tugged at the device to make sure it was secure, causing a cry from Mike.

Jamie sat back and observed the locked and secured genitalia of her husband with satisfaction. "There... this is good. No more orgasms, no more erections without my permission. Don't even ask. Here are the rules. First, we will have sex and you may have pleasure, but you must earn it. You may have 10 seconds of intercourse with me for every week you keep the device on. The more control you exhibit, the longer the session. Think about the fastest you can cum. One minute? Two minutes of being inside me? Three? Count the number of seconds you need, and thats how long you need to stay celebate for me. Six weeks will get you a minute of fucking. Twelve weeks gets you two. If you need more... well, lets just say you might want to make sure you have enough time because it would be mighty frustrating for you to be pumping away inside me when your time runs out."

Jamie smiled cruelly at the thought. "Put your pants back on and clean up the dishes."

Mike was shaking from the shock. His cock was imprisoned, and the effect of the ice was already wearing off. The erection was coming back, and as the blood flooded and enlarged his cock, he felt increasing discomfort. He rose, pulled on his underwear and pants, and then went to the kitchen, feeling the pain of compression against his surging erection. But the device was effective, as his cock became hard it also caused a lot of pain which in turn made him go flacid. He washed the dishes and wondered how he was going to last a couple of months before having this thing removed...

That night Jamie decided she wanted to pleasure herself. She did so with Mike present. Forcing Mike to sit in a chair facing the bed, she first slowly and carefully removed her clothes. Her awareness of Mike's extreme discomfort as she stripped before him and his penis kept trying to flood with blood and become hard was exciting to her and aroused her. When she was completely nude, she sat on Mike's lap, feeling the hard package of plastic press against her pussy as she kissed Mike sweetly on the lips. He wrapped his arms around her, but after a moment she broke free and stepped away.

Laying down on the bed she spread her strong, lean thighs wide apart, licked the fingers of her right hand for lubrication, and began to slowly rub the lips of her pussy. As her arousal became stronger, her internal wetness covered her fingers and she pressed harder onto her clit, sliding up and down. Her eyes closed as she felt the sweetness of sex and her fingers glided over her clit and into her pussy.
Mike watched her with increasing discomfort. His cock was hard and pressing against the plastic sheath, bulging very painfully. He whimpered, caught between the desperate need to touch his penis and stimulate himself, and the pain that urged him to distract and stop the cycle of arousal. When Jamie began sliding her hand harder inside, using two fingers inside and pressing against her lips and clit, Mike began to cry from pain and frustration. He wriggled in his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from Jamie's hips, which were now rising and falling as she neared orgasm.
He bit his lips. He dug fingernails into the palm of his hand. He did anything he could to distract himself, as the pain in his groin became unbearable. Jamie began making the small mewling noises he knew meant that orgasm was sweeping her body, and her chest flushed red as climax took her.
It might have been easier if Jamie had not been so beautiful, if her body had not been so perfect. Every fiber in Mike's being wanted Jamie, and as she slowly came down from her sexual peak, he bit his hand as hard as he could, drawing blood.

Eleven weeks later, Mike officially asked to have the male chastity device removed. He had learned to cope during this time. Reports to Jamie from work were that Mike avoided Julie now, and in fact refused to look at any of the women at work. His work performance had gone up, and he was in line for a promotion, now that he was no longer so preoccupied with self pleasuring. He had also become more docile, more obedient at home, taking direction from Jamie easily and even kneeling before her and giving her pleasure while he could receive none.

In spite of this, down deep Mike was a cauldron of boiling desire. He wanted, needed to masturbate. He wanted it almost as much as he wanted to be inside of Jamie, to bury himself deep inside her cunt, to feel her envelop him with her soft pussy and slide over his sensitive shaft until the sperm inside him welled up and spurt out in a heavenly climax of convulsions.
When he asked for removal of the device, he knew exactly what he was asking for, and what he would get. Eleven weeks... 110 seconds, almost two minutes of straight fucking the most beautiful woman in the world. Would it be enough? It was hit and miss, a calculated decision of probabilities. He knew that in optimal circumstances, he used to masturbate to orgasm in about two minutes. He was counting on the pent up frustration and desire to shorten that by a few seconds... and he couldn't make it any longer. He needed relief. He couldn't go another week.

So it was that he stood before Jamie, naked except for the plastic chastity device. Jamie had given him a viagra pill 20 minutes earler, and Mike could feel his cock pressing against the plastic tube. Jamie was sitting on the edge of the bed, also naked, ready to be fucked by her husband for the first time in almost two months.

Using the small key that hung around her neck by a delicate gold chain, Jamie unlocked the small padlock on the plastic prison. The plastic rings which had squeezed Mike's scrotum came loose, and then the plastic tube slid off his cock. Flacid for 11 weeks, Mike's cock sprang to life, reaching a full erection in just a few seconds.

"My, my... you are ready, aren't you? OK, now, for a few preparations. First of all, the numbing cream." As Mike looked on in dismay, Jamie took a small tin of cream and began spreading it over his rock hard cock. He immediately felt the impact as sensitivity was lost. Not all feeling was removed, thank goodness, but the cream made it a lot harder to feel anything.
"Jamie... please don't. This is... my chance... I have waited so long..." Mike was upset about the cream. Feeling Jamie's hand on his cock was arousing him, bringing on sensations he had not felt in weeks. But as she continued stroking the cream, rubbing it in, the sensations felt weaker and weaker.

"Mike, dear. Have you leared nothing in all this time? This is all about you and control. My control over you. You are not to have orgasm or ejaculate semen without my approval and permission. I am giving you permission now, but we still need you to learn control. You are simply learning that I control your body now, not you. You are incapable of controlling yourself and so I do."

Mike reached down and touched his bare cock. He could feel his fingers, but barely. He began stroking a little to see if he could feel enough to orgasm, but Jamie batted his hand away. "Once again, Mike, you simply can NOT control yourself. This is why I am controlling you. You are NOT to touch yourself or pleasure yourself until I say you may, and this will only be for a total of 110 seconds."

"Now," Jamie announced as she reached over to the bedside table and opened a small package,"Just on the off chance you do ejaculate, I don't want your filthy semen inside me right now. So, you are to wear this condom."

Mike knew he was doomed. Between the numbing cream and the condom, he would never feel enough to climax in the limited time he had. But... it was too late. The process had begun and Jamie would not let him change his mind. He thought gloomily that fucking this beautiful woman would still be worth it, even if he wasn't able to orgasm.

Jamie lay back, her beautiful hair spread below her, rounded breasts pointing up slightly from her chest, stomach flat and even slightly concave and spread her legs wide, exposing her pussy for her husband. Her pussy lips glistened slightly with moisture. She was aroused at the process, but it was more from the torture she was dumping on Mike than the idea of fucking him. She loved seeing him frustrated, in pain, unable to feel pleasure, and it was going to be fantastic to feel him try and fail to reach an orgasm when inside her.

Mike positioned himself and pressed his condom wrapped cock against Jamie's pussy lips. With a slow movement he slid in, relishing every moment of his entry. He moaned slightly and lay down so he could feel more of Jamie's body against his. Her legs rose slightly, and hooked around his hips.

"Stop... just stay there until I say to begin!" Jamie ordered. He was ready. He was inside her. He could feel her surrounding him. He wanted to begin thrusting. Instead, he waited as Jamie took a timer from the bedside table, pre-set for 110 seconds.

"Remember, when the timer goes off, you must stop, no matter what. Are you ready?" Jamie looked at Mike's face, only a few inches from her own as they lay in the missionary position in the bed.

"Yes. Please. Let's start." Mike's cock was throbbing inside her vaginal walls, eager for some sensation.

"Begin." Jamie pressed the timer button.

Mike started his thrusts. The combination of numbing cream and condom prevented him from feeling almost anything, but he continued thrusting. Harder, faster, almost in a frenzy he slid in and out of his wife's beautiful body, pushing in as far as he could and then sliding out until his cock head felt her pussy lips, only to plunge in again.

Jamie was thrusting her hips as well, encouraging him, holding him with her arms, kissing him as he thrust into her. Her breathing came in short gasps which turned into slight grunts from the pounding her body was taking from Mike's cock. "Fuck me... that's it baby... fuck me, deep, hard..." she moaned as she felt his rock hard penis pushing deep into her cervix.

Mike was frantic in his thrusts. He felt his arousal building, the sensations of fucking flooding in from all over his body. Her breasts jiggled against his chest, her legs surrounded his hips, and his balls slapped against her ass as he pounded his wife.

But it wasn't enough. He could tell. He was pushing in and out as hard and fast as he could, but the odds were against him. He concentrated on his balls, willing them to produce sperm, contracting muscles between his legs, willing them to produce an ejaculation and the attendant orgasm.

Beside him, the timer ticked the seconds off, as he adjusted his position to get a better angle. Jamie cooperated, lifting her legs to allow him easier access. Mike's hips thrust even faster, and harder, every sensation of her vagina squeezing his penis bringing him closer, closer... he could feel it begin to build...

The timer went off. "Stop!!!" Jamie said loudly.

He couldn't stop. It was impossible. He continued thrusting, trying to get the semen to come.

"STOP!!!" Jamie barked, and jerked one leg up, the other down, twisting her hips at the same time. This forced Mike's cock out of her pussy, and she shoved him off of her, hard.

Mike rolled over, his hips still thrusting but no longer with anything surrounding his hungry cock. His cock was pulsing slightly, as if a climax were building but there was nothing to complete the process. He moaned loudly, crying out in frustration and anger, and then went limp. All except his viagra-hardened cock, that is. It remained standing straight up like a flag pole as he lay and cried quietly on the bed.

Jamie leaned over and slid off the condom. "It looks like you seeped just a bit. There is a tiny bit of pre-cum in here, but that's it. Must be frustrating, I guess."

Mike looked at her slightly sympathetic face. "Fuck." he said.

"Well... not for a while, I think. Maybe in a couple of months you can try again." Jamie reached for a bowl of ice to take away Mike's erection in preparation for replacement of the chastity device on his genitals.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010


The small square table was unbelievably uncomfortable to Roy. He lay on his back on the kitchen chopping block, a small but heavy and sturdy table no more than two feet square. The edges of the thick wood pressed painfully into his upper buttocks and upper back. His head hung down, unsupported on one side, and his legs hung down on the other.

She had tied him there, his wrists firmly secured to the legs of one side and his ankles to the other, bending him back in an upside down U position that was getting more painful every minute he lay draped over the table. He heard her humming, somewhere on the other side of the kitchen. It wasn't a good sign. It meant she was happy, and in this situation it mean she was happy about what she was going to do to him.

Roy loved her more than anything, but she was a sadist. It helped that he was a masochist, a little. Though it didn't really help that much, because she had been testing his limits more and more in recent weeks.

Looking at the cupboards upside down, he felt her soft hand grab his testicles firmly and pull out. That ellicited a slight grunt of discomfort. A corse twine was wrapped around his scrotum four or five times, digging into the pinched flesh. It hurt as she pulled it tight, the raspy texture of the thin twine digging and pinching the skin.

"How are you doing there, Roy?" her sweet voice made him shudder. He loved her so much, he would do anything for her. Anything. That didn't mean it was going to be pleasant.

"OK," he answered in a slightly strained voice.

With a squeek, the twine started to pull up on his testicles, stretching his scrotum up toward the ceiling where the twine had been threaded through a pully. His testicles ascended, higher and higher, and as they left his body behind the pain began to throb. The twine dug deeper into the flesh and the flesh in turn stretched and squeezed his testicles, which were hurting for real now.

"Ahh... aaahhhhh....." Roy began to express himself involuntarily. The pain wasn't too bad yet, but the testicles were stretched really tightly and the agony would just get worse and worse.

"aaaaGGHGHH!!" He let out another, more urgent cry as she pulled once more, drawing his
testicles almost a foot away from his body. He strained hard, and lifted his head from where it hung over the end of the tiny table, to get a look at what was happening to him. He saw his scrotum stretched out high above his hips, with the twine squeezing the shape down to a small passage that ballooned out into a purple blob of flesh that was his balls, slowly strangling.

Behind is distended ball sack he saw her, short pixie haircut accenting a beautiful face with cute freckles and turned up nose, and a hard, cruel look in her young eyes. Her neck was smooth and white like alabaster, and curved into the most lovely shoulders and breasts, which he saw for only a moment before his neck lost strength and he fell back once again, hanging upside down over the edge of the table.

He had also seen one other thing; his erect cock, as hard and pulsing as ever. It didn't feel like he was getting off on her torturing him, but he was. If only, this time, she would touch it, he knew
he would cum...

What was she doing? Slight whimpering noises came from him as he lay there, bent backward with his testicles yanked high overhead. She had something... it smelled of sulfer... matches. Fire. He shuddered, and wondered... oh, my god! Was she going to burn him? He rose again, and saw what was happening for a moment.

She had a needle, a longer thicker one, and was heating it with a candle. OK, so he had a better idea of what she was going to do. Maybe it he would rather be burned. Didn't matter, whatever she wanted to do now, she was going to do and he was going to take it. He wished she had gagged him.

He felt her hand on his pulsing testicles, the slightest touch painful. "OK, so... are you ready dear? I think I am. Let's get started, shall we?"

He didn't say anything, but steeled himself mentally for whatever was coming.

The needle pressed against his stretched scrotal flesh briefly, hurting as it strained to penetrate. It went through, and for a moment the pain subsided. But then the sharp point started working its way into his ball. He whimpered for a moment, and then cried out as the needle slid deeper and deeper into his most sensitive body part. The pain skyrocketed into agony, his body moving involuntarily, trying to get away from the
damage being done to it. But the tight distention of his scrotal sack above him allowed his body to move, but his balls were all hers.

She giggled a little at his reaction. The needle was in, and the pain, while still throbbing, wasn't as bad as when the metal was penetrating.

A moment later and his other testicle was invaded. He cried out again, trying to hold his voice but unable. "AAAGGgghhhhh oh god, oh god, oh.... god..."

Two needles had been inserted. Was this all? He raised his head again... no, she had another one that she held over the candle flame, heating and
preparing to pierce him. His head flopped back and he moaned. The pain was extending past his balls and across his hips now.

"Let's see... I think we should try a different angle. Lets try from the bottom up, shall we?" Her voice was pleased, and in spite of his agony he could feel his hard cock pulsing. Dare he ask her to touch him, to give him just a bit of pleasure?

The underside of his left testicle felt the sharp prick as she shoved the needle in, through the scrotal sack and then with a bit of extra effort, into the testicle. He couldn't help it, he screamed this time. "AAeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggccccccccccccccccc!!!!"

The needle actually made it all the way through the testicle and with some pushing and shoving, she managed to get it out the other side. "OH, my! That is really good! All the way through!"

Six needles later, three in each testicle. she took a break. "Does it hurt Roy? Are you in pain?"

"Yes." He answered in a very short, gutteral spurt, as he was concentrating on just enduring the pain and breathing. It was impossible to be polite for his lover, it was all he could to to answer her.

Pain spread across the entire lower half of his body, and he had stopped wriggling. It didn't help, his testicles were pulled so far away from his body and so tightly that movement just made it worse. Sweat trickled down his face, more from enduring the pain that any heat in the house.

He saw her upside down legs in front of him. She had come around to the other side of the table, and then knelt down so her face was in front of his. "Oh, yes, I like this. Your face is just a wonderful mask of agony... oh god, you are lovely like this!"

She moved forward to kiss him, her lips soft and moist as they met his. He tried to kiss back, he wanted to kiss her long and deeply, tongues intertwining and playing together. The pain interfered. He managed to react and kiss her back, but grimaced all the while. When she finished with the kiss, she licked his face, long and slow.

"I think I can actually taste your pain! This is so amazing. I am so fucking turned on right now. I am going to crank it up a notch." At hearing this, he let out a sob, and cried out "No, please... "

Her face appeared before him with a very serious look. "What did you say? What was that?"

He swallowed as best he could, grimaced and screwed his eyes shut as he spit out the words, "Yes, please."

She got up and went to the counter. After a moment he opened his eyes and lifted his head up to see what she was doing. She had another needle, but this one was big. Really big. It must have been a foot long and at least twice as thick as the others. The balloon of flesh that held his balls was black now, the blood backed up and squeezed off by the twine. The needles were sticking out, only tiny drops of blood in a couple of places.

He dropped his head back and started crying, tears rolling down his face as he waited for her.

"See, this one is a special one I got. Lets put it in here..." he felt her place the sharp point near the side of his right testicle. "And then.... lets push it through..." with another scream, his body shook and writhed as the needle penetrated his scrotum flesh and spread the sensitive tissues of the testicle apart to make way for its metal girth. She kept pushing, through to the center of his scrotum.

"Hmmm... there seems to be a little tough spot here..." He sobbed as the needle exited his right testicle still in the scrotum and pressed against
flesh, trying to move into the other side of his ball sack.

"Let's see... " she changed positions to get better leverage and he observed her perfect ass and legs, presented for his viewing. He could not enjoy them right then, as she was pushing, hard, to get the large needle through the flesh and into the left testicle.

"There! There we go!" she declared as the needle broke through and entered the testicle. Roy sobbed, mixing his sobs with short screams. She pushed harder, getting the needle through with determined effort. It finally broke through the other side, and Roy's testicles were completely skewered.

"oh god oh god oh god... aaaaaaahhhhh... fuck fuck fuck aaahhhhhh" Roy was crying and swearing alternately. His testicles no longer felt real, they were just a hot lump of pain that was burning above his body.

She lowered the twine just a bit, so that his ball sack descended from its previously stretched state. Blood flowed back into his balls, and the oxygen revitalized and regenerated previously numb nerves and flesh. The result was a long scream from Roy, who thrashed his head back and forth, straining against his restraints.

Clicking announced the camera and pictures. She was documenting the scene, perhaps for later private enjoyment, or to show her girlfriends. She liked to humiliate him in front of her girlfriends, and they enjoyed seeing to what depths of depravity he went to be with her. She took pictures of the needles in close up, and his balls from further back. She even took some shots of his face, wet and twisted from his cries and agony.

When she was done, she raise his balls again, tightening them up high above. His flesh felt like it was going to rip off, he felt his scrotum flesh pulling all the way to his anus and lower abdomen.

The needles started coming out, slowly. The big one first, and most painful. It wasn't as painful as going in, but any disturbance of the injured tissue produced renewed cries from him. Blood trickled from the wounds that were left. The smaller needles came out more easily, but not less painfully.

When it was finally over, she lowered his damaged testicles to rest between his legs, and cut free the twine that had held them. Roy lay sobbing for a while on the table, the pain from his ordeal still coursing through his lower body.

Then he felt her touch his cock. It was hard, it had been hard consistently through the entire torture session. She stroked it slightly and it reacted by bouncing slightly. She took the tip in her mouth, wetting it slightly, and stroked some more. When he came, it was a mixture of pleasure and pain that he had never experienced; the sperm being pulled from his mangled testicles hurt horribly, the ejaculation and contractions were strong and as much a pleasure as any orgasm he had ever experienced.

She left him there for a bit, laying bent backward over the tiny chopping block, to recover. In fact, it was that night before she swathed him with alcohol (elliciting more screams), and then cut him loose so he could fix her dinner.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Hand Job

It had been a long time since I had the opportunity to play with a man.

He was decent looking, well kept and muscular. His brown hair was straight and short, framing a firm face with a smile that must have wooed more than one lady. He was slightly taller than I, which gives men a natural sense of superiority, regardless of whether they realize it or not. When we stood next to each other, I looked up slightly, which worked rather nicely. It made us smile, simultaneously.

It had been a long time... since I had toyed with a man. This one was good, and I was looking forward to it.

While he knew I was a dominatrix, and claimed he was open to all that meant, it was clear he was something of a newbie. He had probably played with handcuffs during sex, or something like that, and thought it was a great BDSM experience. To me, he was something like a new puppy, something to cherish and enjoy as well as train.

We came home from that first real date, to my place. He, a perfect gentleman, opened my door, and served me as a man should, all with a pride in his expertise in social convention that showed an innate sense of superiority. We fixed drinks, and sat next to each other on the couch, our bodies touching each other, communicating to each other an unspoken understanding of liking, closeness and intimacy.

I was wearing a black knit dress, that was well fitted and outlined my body. The top ran in a crossover across my breasts, showing my cleavage to its greatest advantage. My long dark hair was loose, over my shoulders. The total effect was perfect, as we sat next to one another, finding excuses to touch.

His arm went around my shoulders, as he turned to face me. He touched my hair, brushing it out of my face more than it needed to be... he touched my leg, as my bare thighs crossed under my dress. He touched my face, to brush something off, and then his lips touched mine, as he kissed me.

It was a good kiss, and our hands roamed almost immediately, as his slid my dress up and explored my upper thigh, and my hand unbuttoned his shirt and reached inside. Our clothing continued to be pushed aside, moved and adjusted to allow access. One shoulder strap of my dress slipped down, and his hand pushed it aside, exposing my left breast. He cupped, and played, and we continued to kiss, exploring each other's bodies for the first time.
His kisses moved from my face to my ear, and then down to my neck. My sensitive spots... I had mentioned them casually during dinner, knowing he would remember and use the knowledge. I threw my head back to expose my neck, turning my head slightly to the side. His lips and tongue slicked along my skin and just as he reached my collar bone, I moaned.My hands found his hard member through his pants.

His reaction was priceless... his attention to my neck increased, at the same time becoming more mechanical. His male reaction was so predictable. His attention had been redirected to what I was doing between his legs, and I knew I had him.
In a moment he had brought my other shoulder strap down, and exposed my other breast. His legs moved over mine, forcing my legs apart. His hand that was up my dress pushed higher, searching for its goal.

I stopped him. My hand removing his, sitting up, and explaining... now was not a good time. I was not ready, and it was the wrong time of the month. Any number of reasons... the exact reasons didn't matter, as his mind was in a haze of desire. My hand still brushed against his crotch, keeping him stimulated as I explained our limitations, and hinted at the possibility of another date, at a better time, when we could be together more fully...

He was frustrated, poor dear. Yes, he was, and as my leg continued pressing against him and we kissed, I expressed my regret that he had to leave unfulfilled... my fault really, but what could one do?

Well, what could one do? Of course.. there were alternatives... and he hinted. I smiled... accepted. He would leave satisfied. Completely, but it was to be done my way. He was to submit himself to me, allow me freedom in providing stimulation, my own experience. He quickly agreed.

His shirt was mostly off, and I removed it completely. His pants were removed, and then his underwear. I in turn slid my straps back up, covering my breasts, and took him gently by the hand. He stood, with his cock erect and huge, and followed me in to the other room, and then down stairs, to the basement.

A couple of buckles and the cuffs were on him, and he was lying on the table, angled up at a 45 degree angle. He was getting nervous, a little afraid, so I straddled him, kissed him deeply as I rubbed his cock with one hand. He calmed, and even began thrusting his hips slightly in response. Thus committed, I made my way down his body, licking nipples, running my hands down his sides, bypassing his cock.

With a practiced motion, his knees were strapped in a spread position, and his ankles followed. He was now secured, ready for my attentions. I felt the thrill running down inside me, starting in my shoulders, down my spine and ending in my pussy, which was getting very wet now that I had him stretched and waiting at my command.

I slowly pulled a stool up in front of his prone, taught body. I applied lube to my hands, rubbing them together. Looking up at him, I saw him observing each careful step I took, as well as trying to see down my dress. A reassuring smile, and I applied some lube directly to his cock, which was hard and pointing up, almost flat on his stomach.

He let out a quick short moan, excited at the sensations, and how they held promise for what was coming.

I took his balls in my hand, and began manipulating them, pulling his scrotum out, and gently playing. His knees were forced apart by the straps, but he seemed so thrust himself out and attempt to widen his legs further to give me access. Such a nice submissive... he was doing well.

The lube allowed easy smooth movement and massage of the area between his legs, a hit of a touch of his anus, and then to the base of his cock. Slowly, I massaged his hard cock, enjoying the feel of his skin, the hard tissues inside, the thick vein at the bottom... a gentle pulsing. His muscles were already contracting slightly, and I was just reaching the head.

My fingers smeared the lube around the head of his cock, moving slowly, placing my thumbs underneath on the sensitive underside. A gentle motion, moving my fingers up his head as my thumbs went down the under side, then reversing the motion, thumbs up the underside and down the head. His hips were moving in earnest now, the muscles deep inside pushing his sperm through, struggling to bring it out, to achieve climax. I could feel the pulsing in his cock, as he contracted his muscles, pushing and getting closer to his goal.

One hand stroked his shaft, the other stroked his cock head faster and faster until I sensed the orgasm approaching. I knew what was happening in his body better than he did and the power of my ability to manipulate and cause these reactions was so exhilarating that I almost came myself.

With one short, swift movement, my left hand descended to the base of his cock, and press in hard, cutting off all fluid access just at the pelvic bone. My other hand slid to his scrotum, and I wrapped my fingers and thumb around it just above his balls. I squeezed tight, and pulled down, hard, in a motion very much like milking a cow.

The pain invoked had an immediate effect. He yelped, screamed almost, partly with surprise and partly with some very real pain. His orgasm was cut short just as it had started to build, and while his cock feebly attempted to ejaculate for a few seconds, the rest of his body no longer cooperated. As his cock began to soften, I released my hold of his balls, and the pressure on the base of his cock.

He had struggled a little in his bonds, and calmed as the pain subsided. Reaching out and gently stroking his cock, I moved up until my hair hung over my face and brushed his chest. I looked in his eyes, lovingly, cherishing, and explained that he was to come only when I allowed. He was not to orgasm without my permission.

After a few expletives expressed under his breath, I resumed my position at the end of the table and began again. I put on a medical examination glove, and with plenty of lube, inserted a finger in to his anus. After a little gentle pumping motion, a second finger joined the first, and I curled and pressed to find his prostate. MMMmmm.... there it was, and as I pressed, my other hand resumed gently stroking his cock, which was quickly regaining its hardness.

My toy had been introduced to how pleasure and pain can be mixed, and was adapting. It was easy to keep his interest, allowing him the glimpse of my breasts, a kiss now and then, the stroking and stimulation continuing...

Once again, he began the hip movement, ready to reach a climax, the muscles contracting to push the sperm out... but this time, he called out, requesting permission. Begging to be allowed to come. I continued my stimulation, both inside and outside of him, but denied him.

He was not allowed to climax. He must not climax, even as I continued.

He tried, I saw his muscles relax, as he tried not to react to my stimulation. But he could not help it, and I felt the telltale signs. Once again, at the right moment, severe pressure and sharp pain stopped his ejaculation. This time he howled, and really did jerk and pull on his restraints.

When subs reach this point, I simply must share it with them. I undressed... and naked, placed my body next to his, my leg over his, my pussy brushing his thigh. My breasts pressed against his side, and my face was close to his, kissing him slightly on the cheek as is struggled and swore in frustration.

My presence calmed him once again, as my body absorbed his sensations, felt his struggles and pressed against him. He wanted more of me, wanted control over me. He wanted to be free of his bonds so that he could take me, satiate his desire.

We began, once again... and this time, he was able to hold it off much longer. I approved, and rewarded him. I gave him permission to climax, and he quickly pushed, grunted and moaned as he approached his orgasm. With one small, wet lick of my tongue under the head of his cock, he thrust up and ejaculated his sperm, coming, repeatedly, spraying his male fluids over his stomach, some of it reaching to his chest.

Such was his orgasm that I laughed... the pleasure of having caused this, to have toyed with him and finally allowed him this pleasure... it was a delight to me.

After he calmed and relaxed, he assumed I would release him. Instead, I lay with him again, my nude body stretched next to him. I felt him, was one with him, knowing every feeling, every pleasure and pain and frustration he experienced. At last, I raised myself up, and sat once again on my stool, taking him in hand.

He was ready, once again.

During the course of that night, my new toy learned obedience and control very well. As a reward, he probably had more orgasms in that one night than he had ever had in any other single night with a woman.

Six months later, he and I have still not had intercourse. So far, he hasn't complained.

The Gob of Jabbar

Her legs slid up the strong thighs of her son, wrapping around his hips as he lay on top of her. His violent pushing was reaching a climax, his cock deep inside his young mother, and Paul was straining for orgasm. The involuntary contractions had begun, and he lost consciousness of the woman beneath him, her breasts against his chest, their legs entwined; he could feel nothing but the smooth texture of her insides which enveloped his cock, pulsing, squeezing, demanding his sperm.

With a gutteral cry, Paul shoved deep, his cock pressing against her cervix as the contractions began, the climax taking his body with repeated convulsions that left his mother gasping and clutching her son to her body.

When the last drop had been milked from him, his complete weight fell on the naked form of the woman beneath him. Her fingers carressed his wide back, soft lips brushed his scruffy cheek and neck, and her legs stretched out straight as his cock began to lose its hardness and withdraw from her. Finally, he rolled to the side with a heavy sigh and lay next to his mother.

"That was perhaps the best yet," he said dreamily.

His mother, a strikingly beautiful woman of about 36 with long dark hair and muscular body, lay staring at the ceiling, feeling the slowly departing warmth of orgasm slide out through her limbs. She also felt the viscous liquid which he had left inside her, and raised her knees so that it would trickle deeper within. Pregnancy had eluded her for the year she had been fucking her son, but she had a feeling this might be the time.

"Yes, I felt it too." She rolled over and placed one leg and one arm over Paul's strong body. "It might be the time. I don't know what I would do without you... "

The Lady Jessica fondled her son's semi-erect cock, as they shared the afterglow of their union. Finally, raising her hand to turn his head toward her face, she broached the subject that had been on her mind for days.

"Reverend Mother Teresa is here tomorrow."

Paul looked at her with a frown. "Why? What would pry her away from the dungeon of that castle, tormenting the lost souls of men?"

"She is here to confirm your position within the order. To appraise your skill. To... declare that you are truly human." The lady Jessica lowered her eyes as if she knew this was simply propoganda, politically correct cover for the true activity which was to come.

"Fine, I will meet her. Do I need to prepare? Dress up? Bring condoms?" He snickered slightly, laughing to himself. The Reverend Mother was a well known pedophile and pervert with strong tendencies toward the theatrical.

"No. Just yourself. She will be testing you. She will be subjecting you to... the Gob Jabbar." Here she paused for a moment, and Paul sensed her body tense slightly. "It is necessary if you are to be deemed human, and enter the exclusive ranks of the Benny Jesuit."

Paul Atrophy was the offspring of the Lady Jessica, a high ranking nun in the order of the Benny Jesuit, and Duke Fido Atrophy, the head of the House Atrophy, ruling the planet of Caladan. Lady Jessica was part of a breeding program sponsored by the Benny Jesuit, and believed that if she could become pregnant by her son that the resulting child would be the Queezy Haddock, a prophesied messiah.

But... in order to be accepted by the Benny Jesuit, Paul needed to pass the loathsome test of the Gob Jabbar, administered by the perverse reverend mother.

The next day, Paul was called to the meeting. The Lady Jessica kissed her son once for support, and walked him in to the room where the Reverend Mother was waiting. As soon as they entered, Paul sensed the hostility oozing from the old whore's pores. She was not convinced the Paul had been trained by his mother well, or that he would pass the test. She also knew of Lady Jessica's intention to bear the Queezy Haddock, and was profoundly jealous.

The woman stood as the two Atrophys entered, and immediately snapped, "I can see you have been fucking your son, Jessica. You know that any offspring that you may have before he passes the Gob Jabbar will be considered nothing but an animal and destroyed. You toy with destiny..."

Jessica ran on hand up her son's arm with affection, "I understand Reverend Mother. But... he is a really, really good fuck. And I have every reason to believe he will pass today."

"Very well," the Reverend Mother spoke cruelly, "Paul, remove your pants. Jessica, wait outside."

"Wait, what?" Paul stuttered, unsure what was happening. Was the old pedophile of a witch going to try to get him for herself? She was nice looking enough, with a good body, but was a good 10 years older than his mother. He much prefered the younger woman.

Lady Jessica reassured him. "It's OK Paul. Just do as she says, and we will be together as two equals in the Benny Jesuit order before tonight. Then we shall have an orgy such as the likes has never been seen..." She slipped out of the room and shut the heavy wooden door behind her with a *thump*.

"Remove your pants, Paul. Let's see this cock that has Jessica all in heat."

Paul removed his pants, and stood with his cock and balls exposed. He felt slightly embarrassed that his cock was engorged and standing erect. Mother Teresa moved slowly over and took it in her hands. Her fingers were cold, but she slid them down the shaft expertly, massaging his erection to the maximum possible engorgement.

"Yes... you have a good member... very good." Mother Teresa admired him, and proceded to handle his dangling balls. "I think you are ready for the test. Let's begin."

From a suitcase sitting on a side table, the Reverend Mother produced a small box, perhaps 6 inches square. In the top was a round opening, gaping black. Nothing could be seen inside the box.

"Come over here. Position your legs on either side of this bench. That's right," Mother Teresa guided Paul to straddle a bench. Sitting in front of him, she continued massaging his cock, keeping him erect but not too stimulated. He felt she was teasing him, trying to see if he would lose control. He smiled a little at the image of the Reverend Mother with his cum splattered all over her face.

"You smile... well, smile as you can. We shall begin," the Reverend Mother placed the box, open hole side up, underneath his straddled legs, immediately below his dangling balls.

"Lower your balls into the hole, slowly. Once the test begins, there are only two ways for it to stop. First, for you to cum -- orgasm, spurt your load, ejaculate, climax. If you can not do that, then the test will stop with the loss of your balls. Severed, cleanly. Oh, don't worry, if we get that far, you will be begging for it." She grinning up at him, still stroking his hard cock.

"Remember, nothing you feel when you enter the box is real. It is completely in your head. Separate your mind from the sensations in your balls. Control yourself. Focus instead on my hands, your cock and reaching climax. Go ahead now, place your balls inside..."

Paul slowly lowered his balls, sweating with nerves and fear. This was not what he expected. Something was going to happen--

Suddenly, just as his scrotum completely entered the hole and his balls were inside the box, the circular opening contracted tightly around the scrotal flesh with a *snap*. At the same time, his balls began to hurt. If felt as if tremendous pressure was building up, squeezing them, pressing them. He gasped, and grunted. The pain was severe, but not overwhelming, he looked at Mother Teresa, who had continued stroking his cock.

"Refocus... separate yourself from the pain... it is nothing. Your only hope of escape is to focus on the pleasure, embrace the pain as part of the pleasure..." The Reverend Mother Teresa continued stroking his cock, adding some lube, increasing her rhythm.

Paul, in turn, moaned loudly, and concentrated on the sensations in his cock. Just as he thought he might have a chance at ejaculating, a simmering heat began to scorch his balls. He screamed, as fire within the box began to burn his poor balls. He could feel the thick flesh of his scrotum bubbling and peeling away, and he screamed again.

The Reverend Mother continued stroking him, adding more lube, urging him on. His hip started moving back and forth to match her rhythm, the box which surrounded and tortured his balls swinging back and forth. Paul reached out, and convulsively took the Reverend Mother by the shoulders. "Fuck... oh god, please, make the pain stop!!!" he cried out, begging at the same time he continued fucking her hands.

"No, Paul. You will never achieve climax if you don't embrace the pain; channel it, make it part of the pleasure of your orgasm. Then you will be a true human!!!" Mother Teresa continued stroking him, using her thumbs to stimulate the sensitive underside of his cock.

In response, Paul embraced the pain. He allowed it to drive him, even as he was losing his mind to the irrational agony of the burning, crushing pain in his balls. The searing pain had spread from his groin across his abdomen and hips, and he was having trouble standing. He wanted to simply double over and die rather than continue.

Instead, he took his incredibly hard cock and rammed it into the Reverend Mother Teresa's face, hard. He penetrated her mouth, rammed his cock past her tongue and into her throat. This gave him pleasure, the pain of his balls was channeled now, channeled into fucking The Bitch. Mother Teresa gave a surprised gurgle, fought to breath, struggled to get free. The pain Paul felt drove him further, ramming deep home over and over again into her throat. He began to feel the semen, deep inside, collecting and building pressure. He would be ready to explode soon.

The box shot blades into his balls. Thousands of needles were penetrating, shredding his gonads. He screamed and doubled over, withdrawing from the Reverend Mother's mouth. She gasped for air, wiping a bit of vomit from her lips. Paul was stroking himself now, masturbating as the only way to counter the horrible pain of his balls being ripped to pieces. His entire body was racked with pain, sweat flowed freely, his cries and screams continued, echoing in the chamber.

With much effort, Paul regained his focus and channeled the pain. With a swift movement, he grabbed the Reverend Mother and threw her back onto a table. Yanking the skirts of her nun's habit above her waist, he thrust his cock deep inside, feeling the remarkable wet and soft flesh envelop him. He thrust, convulsively, letting the pain drive him. The Reverend Mother struggled, but she was no match for the focus that the searing pain in his balls had given him.

As he reached climax, the Reverend Mother wrapped her legs around Paul, and urged him on. She was nearing orgasm herself. Instead of spurting semen inside of her, he quickly pulled out and rapidly jerking his cock with his hand, he aimed at her face. A huge stream of cum shot out, arcing several feet and splattering all over her face. The pleasure was the most intense he had ever felt, the pain from his mangled, seared, crushed balls had all been refocused and converted into his massive orgasmic ecstacy.

With the last dribbling bit of cum dripping onto the Reverend Mother's leg, the horrible box suddenly stopped hurting. There was no pain whatever. With a *snap* the box released him and fell to the floor. Paul staggered back, the pleasure of pain withdrawn mixing with the residual pleasure of the massive orgasm. He sat on the bench, examining his balls, assuring they were perfectly intact.

The Reverend Mother rose from the table, breathing heavily and wiping slimy cum from her face. Lady Jessica entered the room, saw Paul with his genitals intact, the box on the floor, and the Reverend Mother Teresa wiping cum off her face and leg.

"Paul! You didn't... you didn't cum inside her, did you???" Paul shook his head and Lady Jessica lifted him to her, giving him a long, deep kiss that expressed both her love and lust for her son. The Reverend Mother was looking on with a look of hatred.

"He fucking raped me. He fucking shoved himself in my mouth, entered me, came all over my face!" she spit some of the white liquid from her mouth. "He is no human. He is animal!"

"No. He passed. He still retains his testicles. He channeled the pain. You must admit this, he was successful!" Lady Jessica held her son.

The Reverend Mother grimaced, and then said "Yes... he did. He is human."

Lady Jessica smiled, and turned to her son. "Come on, Paul. We have some fucking to do."

Applying for a Position, Part 1

Greg sat nervously in the coffee shop in the back booth, waiting for the woman to show up.

They had discussed some basics via email, and he had sent pictures. She refused to send him pictures, stating that her looks were not relevant. He was applying to be her submissive, and if he was accepted, he wouldn't be allowed to look at her much anyway. This made him nervous, but he really needed this position. He would not be able to survive much longer without one; he needed the protection from the freelancers that would end up co-opting him. It had been two months since he had been released from his last position and options were looking slim.

A woman entered and looked around. About 5'4" and 200 lbs with short clipped hair; Greg shuddered, and hoped this was not the woman he was waiting for. She saw him, glanced away, and joined another woman sitting at a table. Greg sighed with relief.

A group of three women entered a few minutes later, chatting. The approached the counter and ordered, happily chatting. He continued to watch the door, feeling a combination of arousal and fear. His cock was hard in his pants, but every time he thought of the unknown woman a chill went up and down his back.

Suddenly, one of the three women at the bar sat down across from him at his table. He focused on her for the first time. She was cute, with a kind face and freckles, dark hair that extended slightly below her shoulders, though it was pulled back tightly in a pony tail now. Could this woman be her? The woman he had waited for? She had sounded rather stern in her emails, this cute thing seemed more like a girlfriend than a top.

She sipped her coffee, and then said in a low voice that didn't quite match her young, cute features, "Well, Greg. We meet. I must say I am a little disappointed. The pictures you sent showed a more acceptable presentation; and your current behavior does not match how you described your submissive training."

He could feel his erection suddenly diminish and his heart begin beating faster. He felt his eyes get wider, and he quickly lowered them in a show of submission. This woman was not what he expected at all; she must only be about 24 or 25, was thin though tall (he couldn't really tell from her seated position, but she looked taller than the other women). She wore a tight fitting black knit top, which showed a slim, perhaps even muscular frame, smallish breasts that were still pronounced through the tight top, and smooth delicate skin on her hands.

Her nails were cut and manicured short. Lesbian nails. He now remembered the leather boots she wore and the key on the chain dangling around her neck. It fell together. This was her. This was his potential mistress. To have gotten an interview with someone this incredibly beautiful, he couldn't believe his luck.

Passion suddenly welled inside him. He wanted to serve her more than anything in the world. He wanted to be her slave, to do anything for her. In fact, he wanted her to test him, lead him, use him... how could he convince her?

He felt a sudden pressure on his balls; something had slipped between his legs and was pushed against them. It didn't hurt, but was uncomfortable. He began to shift positions and then suddenly realized... she had her boot up and the heel was pressing into him.

"Yes, mistress," He said in a low tone, spreading his legs slightly to show obedience.

She shoved a little harder, and he grunted, just a little, from the increased pressure. "I have not accepted you yet. You have no right to call me that. For now, you may call me Miss."

Greg could smell something slightly sweet, a perfume, or scent that she wore, just wafting past briefly. Her voice haunted him. It was smooth, and mellow, almost kind. The matter of fact way she stated things showed she assumed total obedience, and that nothing less would be accepted. She presented a kind face and attitude, which hid something very dark inside, he could tell.

"Here is how this will work. I will ask you some questions about your training, and your desires. If your answer pleases me, I will withdraw my foot. If it does not, then your testicles will feel my displeasure," She shifted in her seat, smiled and touched my hand gently, almost lovingly.

"Who was your last top?" She asked.

"Merilee Matthewes, Miss," Greg stated, looking at the perfectly shaped lips of the woman. He gasped when the boot shoved into his balls, hard. Pain rippled momentarily and spread a little before she pulled back a bit.

"You have not been trained well. Refer to your Mistress properly, dog."

"Forgive me, mistress, I mean Mistress Merilee Matthewes." He grunted and gasped again... Pain continued to expand from his groin. "Forgive me, I meant... Miss."

The interview went on like this, and after about a half an hour Greg felt that he would not be able to continue. The entire lower half of his body was swathed in pain, and he felt nauseous. He was doing better, at least half of his answers seemed to please the angelic figure who sat in her chair with a light, imposing presence that contradicted her slim frame and lovely face. He determined he would not give up, that he was willing to do anything to become enslaved to this woman, and gritted his teeth as the boot heel pushed against his balls once again. Tears trickled down his face, but he was determined.

After an hour, she dropped her boot to the floor and sat upright. He chanced a look at her, and saw she was smiling slightly. The smile made her look absolutely stunning.

"You may call me Miss Emily. We will have a second interview the weekend of the 13th. Come to this address," here she slid a card across the table, "at precisely 6pm on Friday. Be prepared to stay the weekend; don't bother bringing anything, you won't need it. Don't disappoint me."

"Yes, Miss Emily," Greg responded, taking the card and feeling excitement ripple through his stomach. He was being granted a second trial, an entire weekend! He observed her closely as she left the coffee shop. Her slim body was a picture of femininity, a perfect figure, and yes he had been right - she was tall, maybe 5'9" or so.

That night Greg masturbated in his bed, imagining that it was Miss Emily that lay with him and manipulated him. He dared not think of actually entering her, this was something that only the most devoted and accepted long term slaves ever achieved. He simply wanted her touch on his cock. He ejaculated three times that night, the last time somewhat painfully.

Friday arrived, and Greg prepared himself in mind and body. Following the directions, he drove to into the country and finally found the large converted farm house just off the road. Turning in the drive, he pulled his car to the side of the main building, and sat for a moment after turning off the engine. His cock was rock hard, his pulse was racing, and he shook with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Finally he stepped out of the car, and walked to the front door. He rang the doorbell, and then waited.

The door opened, and standing in the doorway was a short, cute, blonde girl wearing a heavy leather corset, lace panties, and not a lot else. Her perky breasts were lifted and pushed out by the corset. Greg sucked in a huge breath, not knowing what was happening. This was not Miss Emily, not the woman he was applying too for a position as submissive. But he knew she was female, and in his position he must show deference to all females.

Lowering his head to look at the ground, he announced in a shaky voice, "My name is Greg. I have an appointment with Miss Emily."

The girl turned, and said perfunctorily, "Follow me."

Greg followed her into the house, closing the door behind him. The place was very large, decorated nicely, with polished marble floors covered with an occasional rug, modern furniture, and beautiful artwork through out. The girl led him into a side room which was decorated sparsely with a metal table and chair.

"My name is Miss Siobhan," said the girl in a tone that sounded hostile. "I am Miss Emily's full time female submissive. Don't take that as a sign of freedom, you are still to obey me at all times when Miss Emily is not present. Remove your clothes. All of them. Nothing man made is to remain on your body. Fold them and place them in hamper you see to your right. Remain here waiting until Miss Emily comes."

Miss Siobhan left, and Gregg stole a look at her as she left the room. Her perfect hourglass figure was accentuated by the corset, which was laced very tightly in the back. Her skin was a smooth white with a hint of tan, and her legs shapely. Her hair was cut shorter, and the pony tail in the back barely held it out of her face. Her bare feet made a very quite pad-pad noise until the door closed behind her and he was alone.

Heaving a huge sigh, Greg began removing his clothes. He felt vulnerable in this slightly cold, hard room. The thoughts of what might be coming swirled in his head. Two women, not one. Both beautiful, in their own ways. But it was clear that this house was strict, and discipline could be strict as well. He had no idea what was going to happen, and that both aroused and frightened him.

When his clothes were off, he sat down in the hard metal chair and waited. The cold metal emphasized the nakedness of his body. He wondered if this was the intention. There was nothing in this room that wasn't made of a hard surface. The white marble contrasted with the black metal of the furniture, and the gun metal gray frames surrounding the window and two paintings on the walls. The paintings were austere paintings of women. He recognized Miss Emily in one of the two paintings, and as his eyes roamed over the artistic details of her face and body, he felt his cock growing harder.

Just as his cock reached a full and hard erection, the door opened and Miss Emily entered. She was wearing tight jeans and a wife beater with no bra. Her nipples were clearly visible through the cloth, and Greg could not help but stare at the revealed shape of perfect breasts.

"Is this how you illustrate your good training and behavior before me? You sit in my chair without permission, and stare at my chest?" Miss Emily's voice was low and calm, as before. In her very matter of fact tone, she continued. "You are far from ready for this household, which has a high standard."

The metal legs of the chair scraped loudly as Greg leaped out of the chair and fell to his knees, bowing his head. He took the traditional position of submissive, sitting with knees spread wide, head bowed and hands behind back. This wasn't a good start. But... the sight of Miss Emily had once again inspired him with a sort of love, mixed with the energy of lust. He wanted her approval above all else. He wanted her discipline, for it meant she was attending to him, forming him, making him something she wanted.

"Hands and knees," she said. He fell forward into the position. "Follow."

He shuffled behind her, watching her feet before him as he crawled on his hands and knees down the hallway and finally to a closed door, which she opened with a key. The wood door had a very heavy sound to it, as if it were made of solid oak. Greg followed over the threshold, and into a plain concrete room with no windows. The smooth concrete floor sloped slightly to a drain in the corner.

The room was lit, but seemed very dark. It had a very eerie feeling; as if the light was there, but didn't penetrate or illuminate anything. Then he realized what it was -- most things in the room were either very dark, or completely black. The walls were black, the concrete floor a dark gray. Other items in the room were black, dark gray or a dark brown, for the most part. It felt cold, colder than upstairs, and Greg's naked body shivered.

"Stand." Miss Emily, took his arm kindly, and he stood, making sure to keep his head bowed. "This is the room of discipline. Here, you are the star. Your suffering is the objective. Unlike other areas of the house, very little is required of you here except to experience the pain of disobedience."

Miss Emily took him by the hand and led him to a strange looking medical examination table, and continued talking in a smooth, calm voice as she guided him up onto its surface, and began strapping him in place. "We can play together here, you and I, and learn your limits, and expand them."

Greg had begun to shake. The room was cold, very cold to his naked skin. But his shaking was more from the growing sense of foreboding and outright fear. In spite of the calm way Miss Emily spoke... or perhaps because of it, he was beginning to suspect he had made a mistake in coming here.

When he was strapped securely to the table, Miss Emily began preparations for something off to the side of the room. He heard water running, filling up in some sort of container. He saw her bare shoulders and muscles work in her back as she moved. He could think of nothing but the expanse of raw and beautiful flesh beneath her tank top, of how beautiful she was, how fit and smooth.

Miss Siobhan entered the room, and stood next to her taller mistress. Together they began discussing the benefits of various types of plugs. "I think this one," Miss Siobhan was saying. "It is longer, penetrates deeper. I think men should be penetrated as deeply as possible, as punishment for simply being men."

Miss Emily disagreed. "I understand, but I like the inflatable. Especially this one. It means he can take a great amount of liquid, and for a longer time. The peristalsis is greater, and I love feeling their stomach when they cramp."

So it was decided. Miss Emily turned with a tall IV rack from which hung a very large enema bag, full to distention. Hanging from it was a long rubber tube with an inflatable nozzle. Greg knew now what was going to happen. He wasn't new to enemas, and recognized that the bag held enough liquid that his insides would be stretched hard, and he would be in significant cramping pain before long. He shivered, and strained at the restraints.

Without greasing the plug, Miss Emily pushed it between Greg's ass cheeks roughly. He knew he needed to take the nozzle, that resisting would only cause anal damage and he relaxed as best he could. The hard plastic pushed and spread him, and he pushed back, relaxing his sphincter in cooperation. With a sudden movement the nozzle slid into place, and Miss Siobhan began pumping the inflatable bladder that was now just inside his rectum. He felt it growing, distending and stretching his flesh until pain set it.

He whimpered a little. His legs were strapped apart, his cock and balls hanging limp and exposed, the rubber tube entering him just below. He waited.

Miss Emily smiled, and moved to the side. Miss Siobhan joined her and began helping her out of her clothes. Greg could not believe his luck... he was going to see his dominant naked! He desired this more than anything, in spite of the pain he was about to experience, he wanted to see her perfect body standing over him, her flesh exposed, the ripple of her muscles and movements as she worked on him...

He caught a glimpse of a flat stomach with perfect breasts above, with slight curves and small, erect nipples. His own cock had grown hard, and was throbbing, bouncing as it pointed up his stomach.

But the one glimpse was all he had for moments later Miss Siobhan fitted a hood over his head. The hood had an opening for mouth and nose, but none for the eyes, and he was plunged into isolation and darkness. Through the mouth hole he felt a penis gag shoved between his teeth and strapped into place. It size made him gag as it pressed against the back of his throat, and the taste of leather was slightly musky. He bit down on the gag, feeling its solid presence. He had always felt calmed by gags. They were something to bite down on, an object against which he could writhe when pain or frustration became too much for him.

The flow of liquid began. He didn't know what the liquid was, he just knew it was cold and rapidly filled his bowels. The cold caused immediate contractions and he moaned with the introductory pain. The flow continued as he cramped, and the cramps spread as the liquid penetrated further and deeper inside him.

"Your education is beginning. Your faults are these," Miss Emily was speaking in a kind but firm tone as the pain of the huge enema slowly increased. "You entered my house fully clothed. When you removed your clothes, you did not fold them and put them away neatly but let them litter the floor of my home. You sat, naked, in my chair, spreading your filth over my furniture. You stared at me, looking at my body as if it was your own. For these things, you are being punished. Pray that you learn some respect and discipline, and don't spend the entire weekend in this room."

There was something in the liquid. Some additive. It caused more cramping. He could tell. As the liquid spread up, moving from the large intestines and pushed its way higher, he could feel his entire lower body calling out in pain. He began to whimper and cry, biting down on the gag.

Hands were placed on his distended belly. Several hands pressed gently on him, feeling how he gurgled and and the tubes of his intestines grew and shifted inside of him as he was filled, like balloons. He knew they were feeling his pain, and when there was a sudden cramp that shot across his abdomen he almost screamed in pain. The hands followed it, as if they were seeking to find the pain and absorb it.

Finally, the flow stopped. He couldn't tell quite when it did, but he could tell there was no more entering him. The liquid inside still pressed and pushed higher into his small intestines, causing new pains and cramps. He continued to cry inside his hood, sobbing, wishing he could beg for mercy though he knew he would not be understood through the gag that filled his mouth. Though the flow stopped, the inflated plug remained, and the cramps stayed. The desperate need to expel the enema liquid was at the front of his mind. Nausea rolled over him, and he hoped he would not vomit into the gag.

Hands continued to move over him, touching every part of his body. Something was fastened around his testicles. His cock, still somewhat erect, was stroked, bringing the erection back in full. Severe clamps were placed on his nipples, and he cried out "OH... No...nonono..." as each bit of soft flesh was smashed by the cruel pressure.

Hands massaged his belly, pressing against its tightness, encouraging the enema liquid to move higher and consume more of his body. He heard the two women talking, but could not understand what they said. His cries continued, going from soft moans to almost screams as peristalsis came and went in waves.

Something was inserted into his hardened cock. It slid in smoothly. His cock was being stroked to keep it hard, at the same time the tube was sliding in deeper and deeper. He could feel the extremely odd sensation as the tube moved deeper than his penis and into his body. Suddenly, the tube turned warm as it invaded his bladder and urine came streaming out. It spurted and flowed over his stomach; he could feel the hot liquid spreading and running down the roundness of his expanded abdomen.

Suddenly, the air was released from the inflatable plug in his anus. He struggled against the straps that restrained him and tried momentarily to hold the contents of his bowels. The pressure was simply too great. With a great splash, he spurted liquid out, evacuating his bowels of all their contents. It was mostly liquid, though at times he felt chunks passing through his anus, pushed along by the water. The nausea waved over him again and again as the liquid kept coming out. When it seemed to slow, new cramps would start and more would be pushed out.

The room stank. The women were no longer touching him. He felt filthy, covered with the contents of his bladder and bowels, which had been forced from him. When the peristalsis finally stopped and he felt empty, completely empty, he lay sobbing quietly, waiting for whatever would happen next.

The hood was removed. He could see both Miss Emily and Miss Siobhan standing to the side of his table. They were both naked, and in spite of his better judgment, Greg stared at Miss Emily's perfect breasts, and Miss Siobhan's small ones. He worshiped them in his mind until Miss Emily's hand slapped him hard.

"I see you haven't learned not to stare."

He was unstrapped from the table, though his hands were immediately tied and a hook hanging from the ceiling attached. A small motor whirred and he was raised to his tip toes, most of his weight pressing on his wrists. Miss Siobhan took two hoses with pressure nozzles and handed them to Miss Emily.

The first high pressure stream of water hit him hard and stung. It was ice cold. He couldn't help but yelp at the sudden discomfort. The water pounded him from the chest, down to his now empty stomach and abdomen. As the water stream settled on his genitals, he screamed again. The pressure pounded his balls as if they were being kicked and the pain was horrible. "Please, please... oh god, please, no! Aaaacchh......... oh god oh god...." Greg cried out as the water struck his most sensitive area.

Eventually, the water moved around to the back of his body as he slowly rotated himself using what little control he had with his toes on the ground. It spread across his back and ass, temporarily spreading his cheeks and forcing itself up his anus once more. It then descended to his legs, much to his relief.

Once he was washed off completely, the other hose was turned on. Hot water hit him with a shock. It spread across his chest and back, and then pounded on his cock and balls once again. He cried out, and as he did so the water abruptly turned cold once again. The cold water on flesh warmed by hot water bit him like a whip.

Back and forth the cold and hot water sliced across him, cleaning him and punishing him at the same time.

Finally, the water was turned off and he hung dripping by his wrists, the water having washed all the filth off of him and down the drain. When his wrists were released, he fell to the floor and lay there shaking in a fetal position, trying to recover from the horrible abuse that had been his punishment.

Greg didn't know how long he lay on the cold, hard floor shaking, but when Miss Siobhan started the next phase of his training, he was dry.

Applying for a Position, Part 2

In part 1, Greg seeks a position as slave to Mistress Emily. His initial experience during the audition is painful, but he survives and continues training.

Before exiting the concrete torture room, Miss Siobhan placed a heavy round weight below Greg, and fastened it securely to his testicles. When standing, the weight pulled painfully, distending his scrotum and pressing his balls. Fortunately, Miss Siobhan barked "On your hands and knees!", and Greg gratefully obeyed.

Crawling after Miss Emily as they headed toward the kitchen, the weight dragged behind him. His testicles were sore, but it was better than the pain when standing. They entered the beautifully equipped and styled kitchen. There was a dog dish and water bowl, to the side. Miss Emily pointed.

"There is your food. Only go there when you have finished whatever task you have been given. For now, your task is to clean the tile in the kitchen with that sponge," Miss Emily indicated a small wet sponge sitting on the floor in the corner.

Greg started to head over to the sponge on all fours, but Miss Emily grabbed the cord that wrapped around his balls and jerked. "I didn't tell you to begin. You presume far too much. For this, you will be hobbled."

Greg waited patiently on all fours, his testicles aching from the yank. When Miss Emily returned, she put one foot on his back and shoved him down to the ground on his stomach. Pulling one elbow back, her boot still on his spine, he felt her slip a strap under his arm. The same was done to his other arm, and a single strap was now threaded beneath both his elbows. The strap began to slowly tighten, bringing his arms painfully behind him.

"Oh... OH... AWWWgggg" Greg felt his elbows touch behind his back, and the heel of Miss Emily's boots pushing painfully down on his spine. He grunted, moaned and whimpered as the strap was secured, and the heel removed. His hands were free, but with elbows pinned together behind his back, he could hardly use his hands. He was stuck laying on the floor.

"All right, slave. Get going. Clean the floor, and do a good job." Miss Emily sounded satisfied, turned and left.

Greg began wriggling along the floor like a worm crossing the sidewalk after a rain. He was able to get to his knees and waddled over to the sponge. Once there he knelt and thought about what he could do next. His arms bound behind his back, he was going to find it difficult to scrub the floor. He sat and tried picking up the sponge with his feet. That worked, but not very well. He could hold the sponge, but there was no way he could effectively scrub the floor. He turned, and picked it up with a free hand. Yes, he could do that, but... twisting and turning to get the sponge on the floor and scrubbing was once again impossible without a lot of pain and cramping in his arms and shoulders.

Finally, he tried using his mouth. Certainly less than ideal, but this method allowed for a steady back and forth scrubbing motion.

For almost an hour, Greg's naked body writhed on the floor, sliding the sponge across and back and forth. When the sponge became so filthy that he couldn't stand for it to be in his mouth any more, he raised up, went to the sink and rinsed it out. Filled with fresh water, it tasted a little better and he descended to the floor to continue cleaning.

The testicle weight slowed him down, and created a constant aching in his balls. While he could reduce the pain by making sure that he moved slowly and carefully, the constant dragging of the weight pulled and jerked on his scrotum. At times he simply sat, not cleaning, in order to relieve the pain.

He remembered this entire time why he was there. He was auditioning to be a submissive to the most beautiful creature he had ever met. He found that he had an erection for most of the time that he cleaned. He was a bit nervous that he would not please her, but he was so thorough that when he was done his hard erection was standing out, as if in pride.

Greg finally returned the sponge, and then moved to the dog dishes. He slurped water up, thirstier than he realized. Then he attacked the dog food, which tasted terrible. But he was hungry, very hungry, and slurping up the last of the water, he sloshed it down.

Miss Emily entered the kitchen, surveyed the floor, and seemed pleased. "Well, slave... it is not a bad job. It needs to be completed in about half the time though. This was far to slow."

Placing a heavy slave collar around his neck and locking a 3 foot chain to it, Miss Emily guided Greg into the living room. Commanding that he stand before her, at attention, Miss Siobhan arrived with a platter of toys. Standing in pain from the ball weights, Greg awaited Miss Emily's pleasure, but took this time to marvel over the Goddess before him.

She was wearing jeans and a tight T shirt. He could see her perfect breasts outlined clearly through the shirt, not large and saggy, but large enough to have a perfect round shape that stood out from her slim body. He wanted to worship those breasts, so suffocate in them, suck on the nipples. Just above her chest was her neck, the alabaster perfection of smooth skin, the rise and fall of her clavicle, and the flesh disappearing under the long, smooth, dark hair which hung across her shoulders. Her face looked cute, girlish really, and she had a tendency to smile with a quick smirk that was so endearing...

Searing pain jerked him back to reality as Miss Emily placed a nipple clamp on his left nipple. It was tight, smashing the sensitive skin and invoking a yelp of pain. Miss Emily smiled at the sound. A small weight slid onto a ring hanging from the bottom of the clamp. Another yelp, as Greg's right nipple was crushed with its own clamp, with its own matching weight.

The clamps slowly accepted more and more weights, dragging down on his nipples. The pain from his tits was penetrating, increasing and spreading across his body, and descending to join the cramping ache that spread across his hips and stomach from the testicle weights. He whimpered.

But he had a raging erection; in spite of his pain, he stood before Miss Emily with the obvious arousal of a slave in love. His cock throbbed slightly, bouncing with the beat of his heart, as well as shaking with his moans and whimpers. If only... if only those smooth hands would touch him there. If only he could orgasm at her touch, he would be complete.

Instead, after nearly an hour of this play, his testicle weights were removed suddenly. Then the clamps were removed without warning. His nipples had become completely numb, but when the clamps were removed he screamed at the pain when the blood rushed back in. He tried to stay at attention, but bent over slightly from the resurgent agony.

Miss Siobhan led Greg, still waddling from pain, to a small closet off the hall. Inside was an eye bolt in the floor and a large box filled with sand. She locked his chain to the eye bolt, and pointed at the sand box. "Your toilet," she indicated, and then shut the door.

Greg lay inside the dark closet for hours, recovering from what was a most painful introduction to Miss Emily's household. After the pain subsided and he lay chained to the floor, he thought of Miss Emily, dreaming of her naked form touching him in any way she pleased. He in turn touched himself, slowly stroking and imagining it was Miss Emily teasing his cock, slowly bringing him to climax.

Eventually he came, spurting cum repeatedly on his stomach. After he was done, he realized he could be punished for pleasuring himself in this way. There was nothing to clean himself with, so he spread the semen across his body in a fine film, and then rubbed his body on the floor, trying to hide the evidence. Finally, he used his toilet box, and then slept.


I lay on the bed, tied, spread wide and exposed. I wonder idly what this idiot has in mind, short of the ball gag.

He approaches, pants down around his ankles, and I roll my eyes. Such a pale, squalid character. He is going to rape me. It's OK, it's the only jollies he gets, I am sure.

He starts pushing against me. I wonder what is going on. When is he going to ram in to me? He keeps pushing, its getting a little tiresome, and I raise my head to look down at him. He seems to be having fun, but for the life of me, I can't understand how.

Then I realize.

I can't feel his cock because it is so small. He is doing his best to rape me, but he just doesn't have much in the way of tools to do it.

I laugh. Hysterically, my breasts jiggle and stomach bounces with my laughter.

All too soon, it is over. I lay there, disappointed, as he backs away. All that buildup, all that drama, excitement... and then... nothing.

I yank on the incompetently tied ropes, easily getting one hand free. I undo the other wrist, and he turns to look at me as I am undoing my ankles. Fear runs through his eyes, as he sees I am free.

I step over to my purse, remove my lipstick case knife, and turn to him as he is about to attempt to overpower me. His expression is surprised as I sink the blade in to his heart, whispering in his ear "next life, get a bigger cock..."

Hunting Girl

Damn woman...

He thought of the girl he had been pursuing for the last few weeks. She had put him off again, and he was unsure what to do next. His mind was preoccupied with her shape, smell and the feel of his body's lingering desire.

He trudged across the fields, heading to check some of the traps, clear brush and repair a wall along the field access road. His job was not glamorous, but it allowed him to keep his own cottage on the border of the estate.

Dirty boots slopped in the mud. It was a warm day, and walking through the muddy fields was tiring. He diverted from his shortcut to the dirt path.

His preoccupation with the the girl was interrupted by the sounds of dogs in the distance. A hunting party, coming across the fields, he thought. He stopped... and heard the sound of approaching hooves, as well as the hunting horn. They were coming this way.

Oh great, he thought. With my luck I will get trampled by aristocracy today...

He pressed against the stone wall next to the path, out of the way, as the horses came in to view, and with a huge cloud of dust, pounded past. Horses leaped over the three foot stone wall, one after the other, with grace.

All but one. As he approach the mare that refused to clear the fence, he saw it was ridden by a woman, dressed in hunting attire that complimented her form. The horse simply refused to clear the fence. He went to the nearby gate, and opened it.

The woman guided the horse to the gate but then stopped. He looked up at her... and truly noticed her for the first time. Squinting in the sun as he look up, he saw the outline of a magnificent woman. She looked at first glance to be about 25. Her sandy hair was tied back, but wisps had come down and blew in the breeze. A long face, young, slightly haughty but still undeniably cute looked down at him. Freckles barely visible, otherwise clear complexion. A slightly turned up nose. Brown eyes looked at him as if evaluating a dog...

Her impressive figure was outlined against the sky and he felt a pang as he realized she was appraising him. As if sensing his reaction, a small smile appeared on her face.

He removed his hat, and greeted her. He talked of the weather politely, and she responded. Smiling, she made light conversation. Her voice was light, higher than he expected, full of confidence and femininity, all at once.

The awkwardness of the situation was pressing on him. He was not of her class, should not even be talking with her as if she were his equal. It felt as if she had him in a spell. He held her mount's bridle and realized she had just asked if he could walk the horse with her back to the estate.

Of course... simply walking with her might be enough for him to dream of her for the next month. He stole glances as they walked, memorizing her figure. The perfect cut of her riding outfit emphasized her bust and thin waist. Her leather boots conformed to her calves perfectly, and shone with polish. At one point they brushed his shoulder... and then again.

As they approached the barn, she reached down to pat her horse's neck and her hand brushed his where he held the bridle. They touched. It was brief, but still, a little too long for just an accident, and long enough for him to have the sensation of her warm, smooth skin.

His erection was becoming obvious.

As she dismounted he saw there was a slight sheen of sweat on her. She removed the riding jacket, exposing her figure to him. It seemed as if every move she made was a dance, an erotic gesture. She new what she was doing, and she had him focusing on her. Nothing else was of concern to him.

She stepped over to him and looked in his eyes. There was desire there, and something else that he could not identify. Whatever it was, it excited him. He reached out to her, arm around her waist and pulled her to him. They kissed, suddenly, urgently, with desire. Her hair came down, long and silky around her shoulders.

As they began fumbling to loosen their clothes, they fell to the straw on the floor of the barn. Fingers clawed skin as they became free of the restrictions of clothing.

Just as he felt ready to place himself inside her and reach the ultimate joining to climax, she stopped him. Pushing him back... kissed him and said... "indulge me". By now, he was rack hard and literally ached with desire. Watching her with glazed eyes seeing nothing but her perfect shape, he saw her reach for a leather harness...

"Wear this for me..." she said. He was not in a position to disagree, as she brushed her breasts against him while buckling the bit in his mouth, blinders and straps around his body. The leather felt strange against his skin. She tightened the last harness, and then lay down, a satisfied smile on her lips.

While strange, he was more aroused than he had ever been in his life. She was the most beautiful, desirable woman he had ever had... or was about to have. He climbed over her, the bit and bridle preventing him from kissing her, but she moved him in to place and they joined.

The sensations of being inside her were incredible. The combination of hovering over her on hands and knees, thrusting, the tight leather and restrictive bit in his mouth, was incredible. When he finally came, it was an explosion, a release like none he had ever experienced.

He collapsed to the side and began to recover. She lay beside him... breathing hard. That was incredible...

She wanted to go again. He was flacid... unable, though he was sure with the proper prompting he would be able to resume soon. She responded. "Let me help..."

A strap was tied to his harness, securing him to a ring in the wall. He was kneeling on hands and knees, and started to get up. There was a sharp pain, a stinging slash across his ass and he dropped back to the floor. She had struck him, hard, with the riding crop.

He knelt on the floor, a slight drool coming from his mouth because of the bit. He was completely aware of what was happening now. She had him completely strapped with harness, secured to the ring in the wall, and had struck him twice with the cutting crop when he moved. Remaining still for a second or two, she felt her kneel beside him, nuzzle his ear, and reach between his legs.

He was embaressed... his erection had returned. Her hand grasped it firmly, as he kneeled before her, shuddering slightly with the humiliation he was experiencing. But there was something undeniable... he was aroused, hard, ready, and he wanted her in whatever way she would give herself.

After stroking him for a little while and nuzzling him, brushing her body against him and whispering reassurances in his ear, she rose and took the harness strap. Unlocking him from the ring in the wall, she led him, on all fours, across the stall. When there was hesitation, he felt the sting of the crop.

As they walked, moving together as she led him with the bridle, he was able to catch sight of her amazing form, naked and shiny with sweat from exertion.

After a few minutes of this, his bridle was once again fastened to the wall. His erection remained huge, hard, straining. He wanted more... of anything from this amazing, dominant woman.

Reigns were attached to his harness.

Boots appeared before him. She was wearing nothing... but her boots. And the spurs on them. The shock of what might happen... the spurs... made him buck and attempt to move away once again. Once again, her crop mixed with her warm skin and soft reassurances calmed him. Her hand went once again between his legs... and he stood passively as she kept him aroused.

He had forgotten completely where he was... what he was... simply that he was there, with her, and she was training him. He wanted to please her, somehow. He just needed the guidance from her. And more than anything... he wanted to enter her again. He clung to that promise, the hope.

He waited... wondering what she would demand next, and whether he would be able to take the spurs if she used them. But then... he also knew he probably had no choice.