Corporal Punishment & Tears

Tears have always intrigued me.
Those who know me know that I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, and learned as a child how *not* to cry.
As an adult, since I’ve begun to develop my interest in spanking and other activities, I have tried to un-learn that. To learn how to cry again. To learn how to break someone down, and to make a grown man cry.
To me, when a man submits to a woman, it’s a completely different experience than when the man is the dominant.
There is something so beautiful about a man giving up control to a woman. I
learned Sunday what it’s like to break a grown man, and to make him cry.
My head is still spinning.

I’ve known this person for about four months.
We met at a spanking party. He’s a top, and comes to the parties with his wife. We’d played a couple of times at parties, always playfully. At parties, my dance card is always full, and by the time he would get around to me, I was already well-toasted. One weekend, he found an excuse to pass through my town, and so he asked if we could do a longer session. I agreed.

It went well. Very well. We chatted for awhile beforehand, and even some during. I asked him to pin my legs down and paddle me *hard.* He delivered. I was pretty sore.

Then afterwards, we went downstairs and sat and talked some more. He told me ‘then’ that he had needed a punishment spanking. Just one. He doesn’t consider himself a switch, and never will. He felt that he deserved this one.

He told me *why* he felt that he deserved this spanking, and I agreed with him that he had it coming.
But we didn’t have time that day.
We agreed that we wouldn’t do it in a party setting, but the next time he had a chance to pass through town.

Well, as it turned out, an opportunity arose for me to visit *him,* and to stay at his house.
Suddenly, he became very nervous.
But I was nervous, too.

I first wanted to talk to his wife, to see what she thought about it, and to find out more about the *why* he felt he deserved this spanking. She and I e-mailed one another for a week, and taunted him a bit. He was going to be gone Friday and Saturday while I was in town, and his spanking would come on Sunday morning.

I have given punishment spankings before. Mostly because someone was mouthy, or decided not to cooperate during a scene. While I still owe a few punishment spankings to some who may read this, I’ve never had such a *real* reason to punish. A friend’s feelings were hurt, the offense was pretty serious. He had some unresolved guilt, I had no idea beforehand just how much.

The night before his spanking, I took him to a party at a pro-domme’s dungeon.
If you’re ever looking for the perfect torment the night before a spanking, this is it.
He had never seen some of the things he was forced to watch that night, and it was great fun to watch the expressions on his face, and to watch him worry.

Sunday morning finally came.
I woke up early, and then went back to bed. I was tired.
Finally, I decided it was time to get up and get this over with. I had never talked quite so much about a punishment spanking before. I like to talk through long scenes, but not punishments. The way I feel about punishments is that you will take what I want to give, I don’t really care what you want or expect, you’re not supposed to like this.
But, he had never, *ever,* bottomed before, so I had my concerns about spanking him as hard as he admitted he wanted me to spank him. If someone admits that they need a real spanking, one that might make them cry, well, to me that’s a sign that it’s well-deserved and that that’s exactly what they should get.

Of course, I’ve felt this way for a long time.
I’ve *always* thought about punishment spankings. They’re sort of an obsession of mine. Along with tears.
Real men don’t cry, or so I’ve been told before. Well, when you submit to me, I guess you’re no longer a real man, but *my* man for awhile. And you’ll do what I want. Even if what I want is to see you cry.

I wanted him to cry.
I wanted this top to realize that what he had done was wrong, and to never, ever want to find himself in this position again. I wanted to warm him up, to let him adjust, and then to teach him a lesson.

While I was waking up, he brought in my toybag from my car.
I was accused later of packing a 70lb toybag for the occasion, and I had left half of my stuff at home.
He also brought ice upstairs. Whether he intended for me to use it to make the spanking worse, or for me to soothe him with afterward, I don’t know. He brought me something to drink, and I got up.

I took a few toys out of my bag: hairbrush, bathbrush, a horrible little toy I call a boat oar, a loopy johnny, and I went through his toys in the closet to get his prison strap.
After laying out the spanking implements, I dug through my bag (okay, my bag isn’t always organized) and took out my restraints. And my gag.

He had asked me to tie him and I had said I might gag him, as he thought that he wouldn’t be able to take the kind of spanking that I had told him he would get.

I told him before I started, that the restraints are here. I will use them if I need to, but I want you to take this on your own. If I have to tie you, I will, but it will be far worse for you. I didn’t have to pick up the restraints.

He told me beforehand, besides worried about his low pain tolerance, that he was worried about his erection, and being embarrassed. I told him not to worry, it won’t last long. He didn’t believe me.
He does now.

I sat against the headboard at first, with him over my lap.
I was kind, and gave him a warm-up, which he liked. I didn’t strip him, I even started over his shorts, then his underwear, then bare. When I started with the hairbrush, then the boat oar, he started squirming, and a lot. I threatened to restrain him. I told him he had to lay still.

I enjoyed watching him try so hard to lay still.
I knew it was hurting him already, and we had so long to go.
A couple of times, he went backwards, onto his knees beside the bed, and he was hit too high. I told him he really needed to lay still if he wanted to be over my lap. When he started to go forward too, I made him change positions.
I had him lay face down on the bed, and head at the foot of the bed, and gave him a pillow to bury his head in.

I picked up the loopy johnny. (if you don’t know what this is, it’s a small, lightweight toy’ 3 loops of thin rubber, each about 8″ long. Wicked)
His bottom was starting to turn really red, and purple in spots, so I threw my bathbrush back into my bag. I didn’t need to use it. It bruises a lot more than some of my other toys. The loopy stings, stripes, but doesn’t bruise.

Rubber produces a different kind of sting. A less manageable one, I think, even for experienced bottoms. He started to move, and to cry out. I pinned his legs down, by sitting on them. I began to hit him vertically, instead of horizontally. He was bucking, and at one point, he raised up so much that I thought for a moment he might turn the tables on me right there. He looked angry.
I pushed him down, and didn’t let up.

I watched him. Carefully. I watched his reactions, and he started to fight a little bit less. He was on the verge of tears, and he was fighting them. I
knew at this point, that he had the opinion that real men don’t cry. I
certainly don’t agree. Real men need to cry. It’s okay to cry. I told him that. He had tears in his eyes already, but was really struggling.

I resumed the position again, pinning his legs down, using the loopy, and started again, *hard.*
His entire body started shaking.
He was crying.
He broke down and was sobbing.
I watched his back move with the sobs, and I wanted to stop.
I wanted to hold him, I wanted to cry.

I continued for a few more swats, all VERY hard, and then paused to comfort him, telling him it was okay, and listened to him tell me he was sorry.
I told him that I was too, but that I wasn’t done yet.

I went back to the loopy.
I brought him to tears a few times. I didn’t let up when he started sobbing. I don’t think it would have been nearly as effective.
I had to fight tears a few times.

It was hard for me to watch a grown man cry like that, from my words, my actions, pain inflicted by me.
When he started to whimper, a sound I have *longed* to hear, I just wanted to< stop, and comfort him. I felt like a horrible sadistic bitch. I didn't though.
And I’m glad that I didn’t.
Spanking through the tears, and the sobs, wasn’t easy.
I guess I thought that when I did take someone that far, that it would be a high for me’ that it would feed into my domme urges, and not bring me down too.
I was glad that for the worst parts of it, I had him pinned down from behind, and he couldn’t watch my face. If he had, he would have seen how much what I was doing was getting to *me.*

At one point, he said “STOP”, and even though we had no safeword, I saw the look on his face, and immediately stopped, got off of his legs, and held him.
He was in pain.

I put the loopy johnny down, and comforted him for awhile.
He was crying a lot.
More than I have ever cried from a spanking.
More than I had seen someone cry from my hands.
When he was calmed down, I picked up the prison strap.
After he had started crying, I didn’t have to pin his legs down. He hardly moved once the tears started. It was at that point that I considered him “broken.”
That point where he couldn’t fight me if he wanted to, and he wanted more punishment.
I had wanted to plug him, and put him in the corner, but I just *couldn’t.*
His tears kept coming, and I felt like I couldn’t put someone in tears in the corner. I just couldn’t. I was a bit disappointed with myself. I felt almost weak, for not going where *I* had wanted to go with the punishment.

We were interrupted. Someone came home.
His bottom was starting to look horribly striped from the loopy, and he had a few bruises, so I saw this as a good time to stop most of the play.
I had promised him I would cane him, so I put all the other implements away.

We talked for awhile, then I got out my rattan cane.
He was afraid of the cane. He saw it as the worst possible implement. I gave him about 10-15 not-so-hard strokes, as he was already so well-toasted. He looked at me and told me, “that wasn’t that bad.”

Well, this brought me back to my normal lil sadistic self.
Anyone who says that *deserves* a lot more.
I repeated the rattan strokes, and then gave him a taste of my acrylic cane.
While he’s no longer afraid of the cane, I don’t think he’d dare tell me “it wasn’t bad,” after feeling the acrylic one.

Afterwards, I felt okay about it all, and spanked him again after his wife came home, so that she could see him breakdown, because mostly, I spanked him for A few swats, and he was burying his head in her lap.
I think that I needed to do that. To see him look to her for comfort, and to realize that it was all okay.

It was an intense spanking.
The spanking, his reactions, and mine.
I didn’t expect it to get to me quite so much.
But I think I took him where he needed/wanted to go.
I am glad that it did. I wanted to see a man broken, crying, sobbing.
I wasn’t expecting to get all of that Sunday, but I did.

Woman Likes to Spank Men Until They Cry (F/m Spanking Story)
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

The next morning, he lay in bed thinking that THAT had to be the most amazing dream ever. He must have had way too much beer, he didn’t even remember stumbling home after watching the movies. Plus, he was still tired. Must have worked too hard yesterday, but he had better get up and get going or he wouldn’t get the rest of his chores done.

The realization hit him as he stood there, the tiny lock weighing very heavily against him. It was beginning to come back. Getting dressed and that long journey up the stairs. Facing the women and then being told to go home and go to bed and that she expected him back tomorrow nite at seven. She treated him like a child. She thought she could order him around like that. Well he would show her! He thought about the way that she had treated him yesterday and realized that he was getting hard. Well hard to a point. The cable that she had carefully put on him was digging into the base of his cock rather painfully as he started to swell. The cold water of the shower soon put a stop to the ache as he shrunk down again.

He dressed and left for school but he was nagged by what would await him this evening. Finally, he managed to concentrate and get through his exams for that day. Thank goodness he didn’t have anything for a couple of days. He had been thinking about what had happened to him. It was humiliating, but it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him as well. In the fantasies that he had, he had always really been the one in charge, manipulating his mistresses into doing what he wanted. He always enjoyed that thought of that power, but now, he found that the prospect of being helpless in someone else’s power was much more erotic for him. He realized that he couldn’t wait for this evening to come.

He suffered through dinner and then went back to his room for a shower, carefully checking for stubble as instructed. There really didn’t seem to be any so he was safe for today, he worried a bit about how he was going to reach some of those places to shave when he needed to in a day or so. Plus he had to turn the water to icy to keep from getting hard thinking about her checking him for stubble. The thought of her inspecting those areas was deeply embarrassing and yet he found himself incredibly turned on. He was a Pat’s door promptly at 7.

They lead him down to the basement again, and simply told him to strip. He was horribly self-conscious undressing in front of the two women, who just stood and watched him with amused smiles on their faces. When he was naked, Lara ran her hands over his legs, over his cock and balls and had him bend over as far as he could, spreading his legs and grabbing the cheeks of his ass, spreading them for her. He knew he was turning pink from head to toe. He could actually feel her breath on him as she leaned in closely to check for stubble, that and the insistent ache of the chain between his legs. Smiling, she asked if he had shaved. He replied that he hadn’t, he didn’t feel any stubble at home. They told him to get the cuffs off the wall and then lead him to a large X attached to the wall. They put his wrists and ankles in the cuff and then attached him to the X.

Lara explained to him, as she stroked his cock that they would be introducing him to some friends tonight. She showed him the little sign that she had made, “Lara’s new pet” and how it hung nicely over his engorged cock and painfully throbbing cock. Then she blindfolded him and whispered that if she found his sign on the floor at any time during the night, there would be public punishment. She reached behind his balls and unlocked the cable, making his erection less painful, but the humiliation he felt at being expected to remain hard in a room of unseen strangers was overwhelming. He heard her go up the stairs and the door closed leaving him along with his thoughts.

He pulled against his bonds, but he was held tight. Somehow she had attached him in a way that didn’t allow him any slack. It was hopeless. He would have to endure whatever it was that she had planned for him. At least she took off the cable that she had put on him. He realized that the direction that his mind had taken wasn’t exactly in the direction that would guarantee that this sign stayed on. In fact, he could feel it slowly starting to slip. Public punishment! What would she do, try to spank him in front of everyone? He realized that she had done that once, turned him over her knee and spanked him until he was blubbering. Well that wouldn’t happen this time, he was ready for her!

Then he remembered what he had watched on the video tape. And then he tried very, very hard to imagine the sexiest stuff he could think of.

He began to hear the sound of people upstairs and knew it would be just a short while before they came down the stairs.

Continued

Originally posted 2010-11-26 15:36:17.

Ms Strict 8
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

By Faceunder1

I have always wanted to be a girl, at least that is since puberty. But before Puberty, I, in common with all other lads of my age we were glad that we were not girls, as we considered them to be rather weak silly giggly creatures.

But after puberty, for me at least there was a complete reversal, I found that I desperately wanted to be a girl, I was bitterly disappointed that I had not been born female. What had I done wrong ? Was I being punished for something done in a previous life ?

There were a number of reasons why I wanted to be a girl. 1. They are much more attractive than boys. 2. They have lovely smooth skin. 3. They have beautiful hair. 4. Their complete overall body shape is far superior to ours. 5. Their clothing is far better than ours.

My number 1 fantasy was to wake up in the morning, and find that in the night my body had changed into that of silky smooth girl’s body, and that I could now wear female clothing. I would have two lovely firm well rounded breasts, and down below I would have two smooth lips, instead of that male appendage hanging down between my legs.

In fact I would rather like the newfound need to have to sit down on the loo in order to relieve a full bladder.

This last requirement reminds me that at an early age I discovered my submissive nature. In fact whenever I saw an attractive teenage girl, every fiber of my being cried out, “Beat me, please beat me”.

For some strange reason I cannot explain I wanted so much to suffer at the hands of the sex I so much wanted to be.

Originally posted 2012-09-08 06:02:42.

Wanting to Be a Girl
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

Our anniversary was at the end of the month and we made plans to go out
to dinner alone on that night with a close friend of Emma’s baby-sitting
the kids. I was quite surprised though to find an envelope tucked under
my pillow the night before our date. I asked Emma why I was getting the
pictures before her night out and she just said, “Some things came up.”

With my wife looking on, I opened the envelope to discover three
pictures. Emma was still lying on the table attired in her high heels,
garter belt and hose. Dave and Dave were still sucking her tits, but the
third man’s hand was now lathering her pussy. The second photo showed the
third man’s hands shaving her pussy with a straight razor; one hand
holding the lips of her vagina taut while the other wielded the razor.
The final photograph showed the third man with his head buried between her
thighs, lapping at her pussy while Dave and Dave continued to feast on
her nipples. It was now possible to tell that this third man was also
black and that he had a thick beard. My wife smiled broadly as I ogled
the pictures and told me that the new man was “Big Bad John.” Although I
was very excited, Emma refused to engage in any sex and instead insisted
that we both go to sleep in order to conserve our strength for the next
evening.

The next night, we both dressed up for our anniversary dinner. Emma’s
friend, Janice, arrived to take care of the kids. Emma had been telling
her of the advantages of female domination and trying to convince her to
put her own husband under strict female control. Every time she would
look at me she would laugh and when no one was within earshot she taunted
me by asking, “How long as it been since your little pecker got some
pussy?”

We finally got away from Janice and left for our evening together. I
thought we were going to a restaurant downtown, so I was surprised when my
wife pulled the car into a nearby resort. We ate a very nice meal in
their lounge, but as we were leaving my wife led me to the elevators. We
went to an upper floor and walked down the hall. Producing a room key, we
entered a guest room. The room contained the usual table, chairs and
desk/dresser combination. It also had two king-sized beds. On one of the
beds was a small over-night case.

Emma ushered me into the room and shut the door behind us. She ordered
me to remove my jacket and then to take off my pants, undershorts, shoes
and socks. She made it clear that I was to leave my shirt on. As I
complied with her directions, Emma stripped down to a very sexy dark blue
teddy. Emma opened the over-night case and pulled out her handcuffs.
Securing my hands behind my back, she ordered me to kneel in the middle of
one of the beds. Taking the pillows from the bed, she piled them under my
stomach, raising my naked ass high in the air.

Reaching into the small suitcase again she pulled out her fake cock.
Unsnapping the crotch of her teddy, she stepped into the harness and
adjusted the base of the dildo against her golden pussy and pulled the
straps tight. With the dildo jutting from her crotch, she reached into
the bag again and brought out a tape player with headphones. She put the
headphones on my head and adjusted the small speakers over my ears. Once
again she reached into the bag and pulled out the ball gag and the leather
hood. She quickly shoved the ball gag in my mouth and then pulled the
hood over my head.

Suddenly, my ears were filled with the sounds of a loud, heavy-metal
band! With the hood over my head, I couldn’t see anything and between the
hood and the music blaring in my ears, I could not hear anything. I had
no way of knowing where my wife was or what she was doing.

After a few minutes, I felt the bed shift and then her cock was pushing
into my ass. She pounded into my behind with a fury and my own cock
swelled. Fearing her certain reprisal for coming without permission, I
fought to control my impending orgasm. Luckily, she ceased her assault on
my poor ass. With her fake cock still imbedded in my ass, she held
perfectly still. When I had regained my composure, she began sliding in
and out of my behind with slow, rhythmic strokes. Soon, I was once again
on the verge of orgasm. And once more she stopped moving just in time.
This starting and stopping continued for over an hour. At the end, I was
a quivering mass. My shirt was soaked with sweat. I had been successful
in delaying my orgasm, but I would have killed to be able to come at that
moment.

Finally, the cock was removed from my behind and I felt her get off the
bed. A few minutes later, the bed shifted again and someone got on the
bed in front of me. I had assumed that my wife was on the bed in front of
me, but the ball-gag was removed and my mouth was pulled to a woman’s
pussy. I recognized the taste of sperm in the woman’s slit, but this
pussy was clean shaven, so I knew it must belong to some other woman.

The woman I was licking began to come. She pulled my face deep between
her legs and clamped her thighs around my head, her hips bucking and
pushing my tongue deeper and deeper into her cunt. When her orgasm
subsided, she released her hold on my head. The music was finally shut
off and the ringing in my ears slowly faded. The woman then removed the
hood.

Sitting before me was my wife! Her legs were spread wide, her pubic hair
gone and the lips of her vagina swollen and gaping open. Even with all of
the licking and sucking that I had done, sperm was still dripping from her
cunt. A quick glance around the room showed that the other bed had been
used by several people although we were clearly alone now. My gaze
finally came to rest on my wife who was smiling lewdly. As it slowly
dawned on me that one of my wife’s lovers had been fucking my ass while my
wife had her pussy shaved and then fucked in the other bed, my cock
erupted in a tremendous orgasm. The strength of the orgasm was
unbelievable, almost causing me to black out. Laughing at my
transgression, Emma turned over and presented me with a view of her ass
which was also coated with come. Without waiting for her command, I
drilled my tongue into her ass sucking the come out of her rear passage.

When Emma was finally sated, she went into the bathroom and took a
shower, leaving me still shackled and kneeling on the bed. When she was
done, she came back in the room, dressed, and reapplied her make-up. When
she was all ready, she unlocked the handcuffs and told me to get dressed
and packed up and she would see me in the car in five minutes. I am just
glad that no one I knew saw me rushing through the hotel lobby — I’m sure
I must have made a frightening sight in my condition.

When we got home, my wife asked Janice to help her with my punishment for
coming without permission. With Janice looking on, I was ordered to strip
and then bring them my razor and shaving cream. The headphones and hood
were then put on me and my hands again locked behind my back. I was
pushed onto the bed and the music began blaring in my ears (apparently so
Emma could tell Janice all about her evening without my hearing the
details). Then Janice’s hairy pussy was straddling my face and I ate her
cunt as she and Emma shaved my pubic hair.

I didn’t get any sexual release for the next month and Emma spent most
of her free time tutoring Janice in the finer points of female domination.
Then one Friday morning my wife left for work telling me not to wait up
for her. That evening I found my envelope under my pillow. Unlike the
earlier envelopes, this one had “Big Bad John” written across it. Inside
were six pictures. The first showed Emma licking and stroking a HUGE
cock. It looked like a huge, black pole. Emma later bragged that it was
almost eleven inches long and as big around as her wrist! The second
picture showed her trying to stuff the cock in her mouth. It was so large
though that she was only able to get her lips around the head of the cock.
The third picture showed Emma on her back with Dave and Dave holding
her legs spread far apart and pulled up over her head. Emma’s hands were
pulling her vagina open and John’s cock head was rubbing against her
gaping hole. The next picture showed John’s cockhead pushing into her
cunt. The fifth picture showed about half of John’s cock in her pussy.
The final picture showed John lying on his back with Emma sitting astride
him — his entire cock buried to the hilt in her cunt — with Emma
clearly experiencing a powerful orgasm.

Emma showed up about noon the next day. She went right to bed and slept
until about four in the afternoon. When I went into see her, she threw
back the sheet to show that sperm was still leaking from her well-fucked
pussy. That night, Emma let me fuck her. Usually her pussy fits snugly
around my cock, but that night her pussy was still so stretched that my
cock thrashed loosely in her cunt. Even without the snug fit of her
pussy, the thought of those pictures made me erupt within a few minutes.

Last month, my wife once again called on a Friday afternoon to tell me to
take care of the kids. This was the beginning of a three-day weekend.
That night I found my promised envelope. Inside were four photographs.
The first showed Emma sitting astride John with his cock completely
buried in her pussy. Dave was fucking her in the ass and she was deep
throating Dave. The second picture showed her face drenched with Dave’s
come. The third picture showed Dave’s prick spurting come all over her
ass. The final picture showed her pussy just inches above John’s erect
cock. His cock was slick with her juices. Her pussy was coated with
sperm and a huge glob of come was falling from her shaved pussy. Just
then the phone rang. I answered it, but it was a few seconds before Emma
greeted me. Over the phone I could hear loud slurping sounds as well as
guttural moans. Then Emma asked if I liked my present and she told me
that she would be gone for the entire weekend and that she would see me
Tuesday evening. As she spoke to me, she was gasping and panting and I
knew that she was being fucked while she was talking to me on the phone.
At the end I heard another woman’s voice scream out, “Harder! Fuck me
harder!” Emma chuckled and between moans told me to call Janice’s husband
and tell him the same message. As the line went dead, I began stroking my
cock. I knew Emma would punish me anyway, so I looked through my album
and masturbated throughout the entire weekend.

The photos from this last envelope filled the last of the empty pages in
the album. My birthday is next week and I can’t wait to see what this
years present will be!

Originally posted 2008-05-02 15:00:19.

Femdom 4
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

One corner of our bedroom is a little different than most. The walls and floor have hitching rings. Plenty of them. There’s almost no place you can’t lock something into place. Or lock me.

I was locked into several of them so tightly I couldn’t really move. She stood behind me sounding very angry. I had no idea why.

“How could you be so stupid, so rude?” Even without the gag in place I don’t think I’d have admitted I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Well my little toy you are about to get an education. You once told me you wondered what it would be like to be punished to tears. And I’m tired of you being such a quiet stoic sufferer.”

I was scared and very worried. My penis told me that I was also excited.

Her heel bore into the bottom of my thigh. Slowly it worked its way up. Sometimes she’d stop and dig into a spot, twisting the heel back and forth. Jabbing and jabbing until she reached the top of my buttocks. I hurt like hell. The jabs started their slow progression down the back of my other cheek and thigh.

As badly as I hurt I was still baffled. She’d worked me this hard before but never over such a limited area. But the back of the thighs and buttocks can stand the most punishment. She was working them slowly and very deliberately.

Suddenly she’d stopped.

She walked up close to me and bent down. Her voice was icy, “That was just the warm-up.”

I could hear her stilettos hitting the floor as she moved back in forth doing I don’t know what. Admiring her work? I was wondering what the hard part would be.

Then I found out. It hadn’t registered that she’d only been using her heel. She hadn’t kicked me once.

Now she did. The tip of her boot moved up only a fraction of an inch with each blow as if to make sure not a centimeter of flesh was missed. And the strength of her kicks varies. Several by no means soft but followed by a few unequivocally hard.

If I hadn’t been gagged I’d have welcome the relief of screaming; the pain begin to creep past my limit.

——–

Originally posted 2012-10-07 05:17:13.

Mistress’ Cruel Boots
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

I have a T-shirt with the saying “It’s been so long since I’ve had sex, I can’t remember who ties who” and have worn it to the aerobics club on a couple of occasions with no more than a grin or so in reaction from others. Finally a woman took notice in a more than casual way. The class had been a good workout and we were both drenched in sweat afterwards, when she came over to where I was standing. She was pretty good looking, sort of tall with dark brown hair and a slim build. Her eyes were dark and she was dressed in a black workout suit. She told me she was watching during the class and thought I was doing pretty good for a guy. I told her I tried to do my best and enjoyed following a woman’s lead. With that she looked at me a bit closer and asked if I would like to learn the answer to my T-shirt’s question. I got flustered as usual, and my dick got hard and I spluttered a yes. She then told me to meet her at the counter in thirty minutes and be ready to go.

I made it through the shower in record time (and finally “relaxed” a bit) and timed it so I would be at the counter in exactly thirty minutes. She was standing there in jeans and denim shirt with black boots pulled over the pant legs. A wide belt was thrust through her jeans and a bold, almost masculine chain bracelet was on one wrist. She took one glance at me, handed me her bag, and told me to follow behind her. A couple of guys looked at me a bit strange as I followed meekly behind, but I paid them no mind.

She never glanced back as she strode to her truck, a black Jeep pickup. I placed the bags in the back and climbed in. As we sat in the truck, she reached in the glove compartment and pulled out cuffs and a blindfold. She asked if I had any second thoughts. I did but said, “No mam.” With that, she put the blindfold around my eyes and cuffed my wrists behind my back. Snugging the seat belt in place, she took off, saying nothing more. As common sense reared its head, I began to get a bit worried, but decided, what the hell, you only live once. After a not too long drive, she stopped the truck. She finally talked to me again. She said her name was Julie and since I followed her, I must know what I was getting into. I was to call her Mistress and her thing was bondage, tight and complex. If at any time I wanted out, she gave me a code to use. She also said that if I used it, she and I were done, period. She asked once more if I was willing, and with rational thoughts buried far behind, I said, “Yes Mistress”.

She unzipped my pants and pulling my cock and balls out, tied on a leash. She loosened the seat belt and pulled me out and up a short flight of stairs. I made really sure I wouldn’t stumble and hoped no one was watching, having no idea where I was. I heard a door open and soon felt myself on a hard floor. I guessed we had entered her home. With that, she tied my leash off to something high and told me not to go away. I could hear her walk off as I tried to keep my balance. I was tied just enough were I had to keep up on my toes a little to keep from pulling on my balls. It seemed like a long time until I heard her (was it her?) return.

My shoes and pants were pulled off and my underpants were cut off. I could feel the cold of the knife against my thighs as she sliced the cloth. My shirt followed, after the cuffs were rearranged to clear the sleeves. I was now securely bound, by a strange woman, in an unknown location, with no clothes on. The fear of the unknown was a strong counterpart to the raging lust I now felt. In the back of my mind, the thought that I had really fucked up kept trying to storm forward and overwhelm me.

Mistress Julie finally took the blindfold off and I blinked around trying to see clearly. I was in a sparsely furnished room, with piles of ropes and straps strewn about over dark, faintly sinister looking shapes in the back corners. I could see stocks and crosses and other equipment looming behind her. The Mistress was dressed in black. A black leather bra and panties along with black nylons held up by a black garter belt. A medium sized black collar was around her neck and one hand held a short black crop. Calf high black boots completed the ensemble. She was sipping from a glass of red wine and slowly walked around me, not saying a word.

She began to gather items scattered around the room and bring them to me. The first was a high leather collar. The bottom was cut so it fit over my shoulders. It was high enough so that I had to keep my chin up and had very little movement to my head. There were assorted rings hanging from it and three straps which she proceeded to tighten. It was snug to the point that I knew it was on, yet I could still breath with no problem. Next came thick cuffs that strapped around my ankles. She took a short piece of chain and locked them together. Another clip held the chain to a buried ring in the floor. So far, all the straps had small padlocks locked on. I wasn’t going anywhere until she decided I was.

She rummaged around in a pile of leather until she came up with a collection of narrow straps and rings. She untied the leash from my balls and proceeded to strap the contraption around my cock and balls. Whatever reservations I had mentally were contradicted by the raging hardon I had. She pulled each strap tight enough to jerk my balls around quite a bit. She told me she enjoyed making sure a cock and balls weren’t going anywhere and that this was a sample of what was to come. She looked at me as if wondering if I would want to quit. As I shook my head, she nodded and stuffed a handful of nylon hose into my mouth.

She hooked the leash to the harness that now entwined itself around my cock and balls and unclipping the leg chain from the floor, pulled me over to the cross mounted on the wall. As she backed me to it, she unlocked the cuffs and pulling each wrist high, strapped them to the arms of the cross. As that was done, she next pulled each ankle out and clipped them to the bottom of the cross. With my legs spread, my arms stretched out and there was no slack to the bonds. My cock harness was tied down as well to the bottom of the cross, not unbearable, but tight enough to be uncomfortable. With the high collar, I could only look forward and could barely move anything else. She moved back and looked over her work. “Forgot something”, she murmured, and snapped two silver clips with small weights to my nipples. She reached in back of the cross and it started to lean forward. Before long, all I could see was a small patch of floor in front of me.

The next thing I could see was the Mistress tossing several cushions down in the spot my eyes looked at. Before long, she joined them with another glass of wine and a slender dildo in her hand. She told me she enjoyed seeing a man helpless and really had no interest in having sex with him. She was bi, with minimal male needs and was mostly interested in lesbian sex. If I was real nice, I might be able to watch her with another woman in the future. As for now, I would have to be content with watching her with herself. With that, she pulled her panties off and turned on and inserted the dildo.

While one hand slowly kneaded and pulled at her nipples, the other slowly moved the dildo in and out of her glistening cunt. Her tongue would poke out and wind around her lips like something alive. Occasional moans would escape as sweat started to build up on her body. Her breasts were small but the nipples grew larger and larger as she fondled and felt them. She had her long legs widely spread as she pushed the dildo in deeper and faster. She started to thrust and rotate her hips forward to meet the dildo as she speeded things up. Every thing accelerated as she moved closer and closer to climax. Finally she arched herself up off the cushions to meet the dildo and gave a deep and low animal groan. She fell back and tried to catch her breath, and slowly get back to normal.

I was fighting my bonds as well as I could, which was not much. The only thing I could do was get the leather cuffs to squeak a bit as I fought against them. There was enough movement to get the nipple clamps to jiggle a bit and also allow me to pull against the cock harness. My nipples were sore from the incessant grip of the clamp. My arms and legs burned from being outstretched on the cross and my cock was pulsing from battling its bonds. My mouth was filled with the unique taste of nylon hose and my nose was filled with the smells of sweat and leather. And struggle though I might, I couldn’t begin to get loose. I was so turned on, that I came dry, right there, without being touched.

I was kept there throughout the night and tied and retied in many ways. Except to change a harness or snap on a clamp, Mistress Julie never touched my cock. One time she hung me by my ankles and made me masturbate and another time strapped me down with a vibrator tied to my cock and balls until I came. By morning, I was sore and very, but pleasantly exhausted. I was finally untied, except for cuffs and told to dress. I was once again blindfolded and led out to the car. This time the blindfold was a pair of opaque wraparound sunglasses. I was driven back to the health club where my car was and released. Mistress Julie told me I might see her again. With that parting remark, I dazedly entered my car and went home.

Originally posted 2009-09-25 12:59:54.

Gym Bondage
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

“Well, we’ve danced all night,” said Mistress Glory, “It’s your turn boy!”

On his knees, at the foot of the sofa where they sat, he looked up at startled.

“You mean he dances?” Wishia queried, putting her cup down

“He didn’t, but he’s being trained to dance. You’ll see! Why else do you think I have him wear the slave bells?” Mistress Glory giggled. She motioned him over.

He rose with a rustle of slave bells and stood before his Mistress.

“You can see him in his full glory too, out of this!” she tapped the plastic of his chastity device.

“Ohhh this `I’ve gotta see!” Wishia laughed, clapping her hands.

“Please Mistress, not this, not now!” he pleaded. Mistress Glory had been teaching him the tile dance, a dance where the slave put themselves through a fluid motion comprising many of the formal slave positions but never rising higher than their knees. Often commanded under quick fire orders, known as putting a slave through their paces, it was a good method for judging a slave’s training, skill and suppleness. While the slave paces are often entertaining for any on-lookers, as part of a tile dance, they were about pure entertainment.

“Silence kajirus! You are no longer a man, but a beast that exists only for the whim’s of women. You will do what I wish.”

They were drunk, he didn’t know how much. Serving them both with coffee was cool, maybe sucking and licking at their feet, which is what he had anticipated would have been required would have been fun, as was his anticipation of serving one or both in their bedroom later; while dancing was going to be humiliating. Despite his lessons, he was hardly proficient; this was more about his humiliation and their amusement. Mistress Glory demanded total passion from him in his dancing, expecting his ongoing denial of sexual frustration to be utilized as a fundamental show of need in his dance.

Taking a key from her purse, Mistress Glory fiddled with the key in the lock of the device, before roughly pulling it from him. “Now, get out on the patio, perform the tile dance that you are learning pet!”

He bowed, then turned. After only a few steps, Mistress Glory called after him, “Shut the French Windows behind you pet. If you don’t please us, you will forfeit the right to sleep inside to night.”

Stepping outside, he drew shut the large glass panel with a low thud. It was cool outside, the cherry patio tiles smooth beneath his bare feet. He turned and faced the window, seeing them both inside the house.

They were both up and off the sofa, Mistress Glory was locking the French Windows, Wishia at the light switch. Suddenly the room was plunged into darkness and he was bathed in the patio lights. He brushed a bug from his thigh.

Mistress Glory’s voice came to him through the glass, “What are you waiting for kajirus? We said dance, now dance!”

He took a deep breath. He was nude, collared and belled and about to dance form women, it was at once both thrilling and dismaying. He had already learnt the pole dance, but his lessons in the tile dance were still at early stage. He took another deep breath, running through the rudiments of a dance. He longer for some accompanying music, at least a beat.

To the signal the start of his dance, he clapped his hands. He bent over and kissed the tiles, lowering himself to the tiles. Flinching at the cool contact with his bare flesh, he forced his mind to traverse across from rational human thought to compliant kajirus service; a mind set which allowed him to only review and dwell on his actions retrospectively. He filled his mind with images of Mistress Glory’s toes, her feet, her insteps, her legs, her arse, her breasts, her face; thoughts of pleasuring her stoked his lust. Suppressed for nigh on two months now, it did not take much to inflame. Between his thighs his manhood stirred, thickening free from pain, free from the dreaded device the first time in three weeks. He trained with it in place, the freedom now, the one bonus of night.

He moved then, only to the sound of the bells secured about his ankles, turning, upon the tiles. He imagined in his dance, that he was pleasuring Mistress Glory, on his belly as if worshiping her feet; on his knees before her, on his back writhing and bucking as if mounted beneath her, curled up as if cowering from the whip for poor service, bending backwards as if displayed for viewing pleasure.

Inside the house, Wishia watched captivated by the naked slave’s performance, as his sleek hips gyrated with elegant seduction, a pointed toe pressed to the tiles, shaking his foot to jangle the slave bells. “You trained him to do this?” she asked incredulously.

Mistress Glory nodded grinning.

Outside, on the patio as a core element of his dance, he paused with each differing posture, for a moment or so, motionless, posing, that they might feast their eyes upon his body. It was at these times, he occasionally heard the sounds of laughter. From the motionless pose he would start to slowly buck his hips more and more until, soaked in sweat, breathing heavily, he feverishly humped the cool air before him.

He was on his knees, head lent back, thighs widely split, thrusting his manhood skyward, when one them called out, “Do you beg our touch kajirus?”

“Yes Mistress!” he croaked, spinning about to all-fours before the window.

“Then squeal like a pig for us!”

He incorporated a squeal into his dance, matching it with his every thrust of his hips. As he debased himself for their amusement, tears filled his eyes, as he heard their shrieks of laughter.

Finding himself near some potted daffodils, he turned his head and tore one from the pot. Between his teeth he held the stalk and crawled towards the window, before finishing his dance, in a Gorean Bow, that had his face upside down facing them, proffering the flower, awaiting their verdict. Through gritted teeth, his chest heaved, sucking in air.

“Do you want to see some more?” Mistress Glory asked.

“Isn’t he spent?”

“Nothing a short break won’t put right. He can pole dance too.”

“What? No way! You taught a guy to pole dance?” Wishia shrieked.

“Yes way.” Mistress Glory grinned, “Watch this.”

Barefoot, Mistress Glory slipped form the sofa and disappeared

Wishia saw her a few minutes later, outside on the patio, positioning a tall wooden pole in the center of the patio, setting it in place.

Outside, the pole in place, looking at the upside down face of her kajirus, Mistress Glory spoke, “We will discuss your tile dance performance tomorrow. For now you can make up for it with a pole dance, you can start in one minute.”

She crouched, picking the daffodil from between his teeth. “Was this for me sweety or Wishia? I hope you’re not aspiring to either of us? You know that would piss me off, if I knew you were lusting after either your Mistress or one my friends. It seems you will require further lessons about male slave lust!”

He watched her swan off, his attention captivated by her barefeet, hating her for everything she demanded of him.

Tap. Tap. “Begin kajirus,” Mistress Glory called through the window.

He rose, wishing the tiles would swallow him up. He danced himself in an imaginary rhythm in a position directly in front of the pole. He fell to his knees, legs spread as wide as he could possibly spread them.

He stroked the pole with his manhood feeling the smooth wood. As he moved himself, over and over the wood, the ache in his loins to come became almost overwhelming. He had to tense his muscles to prevent it. He knew the shudder of the effort could be seen by Mistress Glory and Wishia as they reacted loudly in laughter to it. He moved on and thrust his skillful tongue, trained to perfection after hours of practice, across the pole’s center and darted it back and forth in a movement he learned as tongue movement 11 (out of 56) in his training. He then pressed his lips to the smooth wood, feasting on it, before letting out a loud moan and slowly thrusting at the wood again and again with his aroused manhood.

With each thrust of his hips against the unyielding pole, he yearned to be met by the powerful lunges of an insatiable Mistress Glory. He groaned with his unsatisfied need, arching against the pole, his quivering thighs thrusting wildly against it, his tormented body burning with the pain of his need.

He writhed upon his knees, moving around the tiles, pressing his trembling manhood to the ground too, his nails clawing at the tiles, demonstrating his desperation, his need.

Panting he crawled around the patio, glazed eyes lowered, leaning back, running fingers over his body, between his thighs, thrusting them open and up high into the air, he lay with his cheek turned to the side, arms in submission at his sides with palms facing the stars praying his Mistress would find him pleasing and grant him sexual release.

He lay, quietly, for some time, panting in exhaustion, his body covered with sheen of sweat, until Wishia popped her head out, beaming. “The owner and his head barmen, from the Italian restaurant we were at this evening, have just turned up. So Mistress Glory says you know the rules about you being in the house when real men are; so she’s says you’ll have to stay out here after all. Just as well it’s nearly summer. She also said to ensure you put these on, so you don’t take advantage of being out of your chastity device.” She threw a pair of handcuffs to the tiles.

“Pity as I really enjoyed your performance, and I do hate to see an erection go to waste.” she pouted, as she watched him cuff his hands behind his back.

She went to shut the sliding door, but paused, adding, “Ohh I almost forgot, Mistress Glory said that she would ensure to save any condoms for you, for recycling. Whatever that means? Anyway, nighty night, sweet dreams slave boy.” She blew him a kiss, then shut the door.

===

Slave was still asleep, huddled in a fetal position under the roof overhang of the house when Mistress Glory, his Mistress, emerged in her bathrobe. Giving him a little kick, she brought him awake. “Stand kajuris!” She ordered. He quickly became wide awake and raised himself first to his knees and then to a standing position at attention, with his back straight, shoulders back, head to the left and feet placed shoulder width apart. “Get the liquid soap, long handled brush, and alcohol from the utility room and then kneel under the pool shower – you may walk.”

As the kajirus moved quickly to carry out his orders the French door opened and Wishia appeared with two cups of hot liquid in her hands. “Well, she said as she handed one cup to Mistress Glory, I don’t know about you, but I had a lot of fun last night! it is funny, however, being with Urth males.”

Mistress Glory nodded in agreement and said “I know what you mean, they are neither dominant nor submissive. I doubt that either of them would do well on our world.” She was watching her slave carry the items he was sent to fetch to the tiled outside shower and assume the nadu position nearby.

Mistress Glory and Wishia moved over next to the kneeling kajirus. “Prostrate yourself and kiss our feet, boy!” Said Mistress Glory. She picked up the liquid soap and brush. Squirting a string of soap down the kneeling boy’s back she started to wash him with the brush. After scrubbing his head, shoulder, and back she moved around to his rear. “I miss a lot about not being at home on Gor, in Cos” she said to Wishia as she used the back of the brush to spank the inside thighs and forced his knees even further apart. “I miss not being able to use my real name here.” replied Wishia “But this is our assignment, to study these Urth people and report everthing of interest to the Priest-Kings.” Mistress Glory squirted soap directly on the brush and then began scrubbing between the kajirus’ legs and up and down his inner thighs. “At least they let us bring one trained kajirus each. I would have been so bored otherwise.” Mistress Glory replied.

“Sula-Ki, kajirus!” Mistress Glory commanded and the boy turned over on his back, knees up, spread widely and his hips lifted by his hands as high as possible. She was effectively “putting him thru his paces” and giving him a sound scrubbing all at once. She worked over his front as throughly as she had done his back. She re-scrubbed the parts hanging between his legs. “Now roll over on all fours, pet, and shake yourself dry like a sleen.” She said when he had been seriously scrubbed and rinsed.

While the kajuris moved and shook himself the two women retired to the two chaise lounges a few yards away. Looking at the slave and suppressing a laugh, Wishia said to Mistress Glory “I was impressed with the way you are training him to dance!” Grinning, “It had not yet occured to me to play with my kajirus quite that way – it is sooo amusing!” Mistress Glory laughed and said “Well, it relieves the boredom and keeps the sleen in shape. Boy, crawl over here, and bring the alcohol!”

As the crawling boy moved toward the two Freewomen Wishia remarked “You are so clever, making the kajirus learn a dance meant for a female silk slave, the pole dance. A dance in homage to the penis!” “Yes, rejoined Mistress Glory, but my boy has long been brown silk. It knows that his worship is of my strap-on!” Then Mistress Glory, quietly, said “I’m sorry that the tile dance was not better. I expected more sensuality, including much more tongue, and less thrusting his penis in the air – that did not impress me at all.” In the nadu position the boy was getting very anxious, hearing that his Mistress was dissatisfied with his performance.

“Here boy,” Mistress Glory said as she took the proffered alcohol and poured about a cupful around the tiles at their feet, Now perform Obeisance for us and make sure every part of you comes in contact with the liquid!” Both of the women laughed as the pitiful kajirus moved from position to position to wallow in the alcohol. He did Bara, then Sula, then back again to Bara on his belly, licking at the toes of the two Freewomen.

Wishia, her mouth in a wide grin, said “I love this, look how it burns him, yet he has to keep going. Would you consider training my boy to dance along with yours?”

Mistress Glory – “You hear that boy? You are going to have a classmate when my friend brings her boy over here to play and learn with you! Maybe she will want him to learn the pole dance too, and, if we are not sufficiently amused, we can dispense with the wooden pole while we watch you practice on each other!” There was a torrent of laughter now from both women.

Wishia had left several ahn ago to return to her dwelling. The kajirus had performed all of his regular morning duties. He had shaved and bathed both himself and her. She had eaten the breakfast he made and enjoyed a light session with his tongue. Now she was at her desk organizing the weekly dispatches prepared for relay home to Gor on the next Priest Kings ship.

While in her files she read some records concerning agent Wishia’ kajirus. Incredibly, he had been born on Urth and transported to Gor several solar revolutions ago. He had been trained as a silk slave and then assigned to Wishia. There had been some natural concern that once back on Urth he would renounce his Gorean enslavement and attempt to escape.

Those concerns had been dispelled when he actually cried when told he was going back to Urth. He begged agent Wishia not to go to Urth and not to take him along. He actually had resisted the Urth name, michael, which Wishia had chosen for him. She had told him that he could keep his Gorean name, but that once back on Urth he would be called michael, too, with his number from the slave pens added. In the end, he was named michaeltoo52 by her. His attitude convinced the Priest Kings that it was worth the risk to send him back. The mission would profit from his knowledge of the place and it’s customs. Apparently, according to his file, he had not had much training in dance. Good, she thought, the boys should be on about equal footing.

Looking up, she saw that the kajirus had just about finished his cleaning chores. She had made him perform them this morning in the manner of the he-quadruped as part of his punishment for dancing poorly the night before.

“The door, boy!” she called as she heard a rapping at the front door. He crawled, not having been released from the quadruped position, and opened the door from his knees.

Mistress Wishia entered first and then her boy, clad in an earth raincoat, came into the foyer while taking off the coat and dropping to his knees into a nadu position of his own. Beneath the raincoat he had been naked except for a genital collar and plastic chastity device. From the pocket of the rain coat he produced a collar, which he quickly fastened around his neck.

Mistress Glory breezed to the entry foyer, the colorful silk robe she wore flowing as if it were a vibrant cloud of color. “Well hello again, dear.” She said to Mistress Wishia. “And this must be michaeltoo!” She said as the boy as he prostrates himself and sweetly kisses her sandals. “let’s go sit out by the pool, shall we, Mistress Wishia? Boys, go to the kitchen and make us some drinks and snacks. We shall be by the pool – crawl.” The two women laughed to see two pairs of naked male haunches scurry in retreat towards the kitchen.

……………..

The two Gorian women relaxed on chaises by the pool chatting and awaiting their refreshments. “Your boy seems very alert and yet respectfully submissive, Wishia,” said Mistress Glory. I’m a little surprised to see those qualities in a male from this planet.” Changing position to glance toward the door to the kitchen she said “I read his report this morning for the first time. He actually prefers, according to the report, to be a slave to women on Gor instead of a free man on Urth. Remarkable!”

“I attribute some of that, said Wishia, to the fact that I was able to participate in his training almost from the beginning of his life on Gor. We are very well bonded.”

The boys came through the kitchen door scurrying on their knees with trays of drinks and snacks for the Ladies. Bowing first, they stood long enough to place the trays on the end tables and arrange the food for the women, then they returned to the nadu position, each before his mistress.

“You were saying, about ‘bonding” inquired Mistress Glory.

“Humm.” said Wishia. Want to see a demonstration?”

“Of course” replied Mistress Glory. She sensed that something a little different was about to happen.

Wishia then reached out with her empty left hand, held straight out, palm up. Her boy, michaeltoo, caught the signal from the corner of his eye and crawled quickly to her side. Without being told, he stood partly up and adjusted his height by squatting just enough so that his balls, dangling just below his chastity device, snuggled into the palm of her hand.

“Oh, I like that!” exclaimed Mistress Glory, suppressing a giggle.

“It has obvious usefulness.” Said Wishia. “There is an economy of discussion, it keeps the kajirus alert, and it can be used for punishment, or a little teasing, or to reinforce orders which I want to have his complete attention for.” She not too gently rolled his balls in her hand. Then she produced a key and removed his chastity device. “Go fetch the oil from my bag, boy.” she commanded. Michaeltoo scrambled to her bag, left in the foyer, and brought it back in his teeth. He then took out the jar of oil and, from the nadu position, head down, kissed the jar and offered it up to his mistress. When she accepted the oil he again resumed his squatting position, knees as widely spread as humanly possible, exactly where he had been before being commanded to fetch the jar of oil.

“I like a boy to glisten a little when he performs for me and my friends. This preparation has been laced with a pepper oil and brings a nice little burning sensation to his skin. It keeps him focused.” Wishia said, with a chuckle. She first worked the oil into his genitals. Then, twirling her finger, she had him turn so that his buttocks were available for more oiling. She put him quickly through several poses, applying more oil, until his entire body was coated with the hot preparation.

Laughing at the signs of discomfort from michaeltoo, Mistress Glory asked if she could try some of the oil. “Of course,” said Mistress Alexia, handing over the jar and ordering michaeltoo back into nadu.

Mistress Mistress Glory then proceeded to coat her kijirus with the oil after first removing his chastity device. When the oil first came into contact with his balls he flinched a little. Mistress Mistress Glory scowled and gave him a smart slap to his balls as a reminder to accept the process gracefully. He remembered himself and became perfectly obedient as well.

“Well,” said Mistress Glory, laughing, “Shall we see how your boy dances – if at all?”

“Of course,” replied Wishia, grinning broadly!

Originally posted 2012-10-14 14:28:33.

Gorean Male Slave : A Femdom Story
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

By Mukim

As a single guy of 22 back in the late sixties I had a femdom experience I shall never forget. My planned summer holiday day to Spain with Jack my best friend fell through at the last minute and I could not even get a refund. I was noaning to a girl called Claire who worked in the Office next door. She has fallen out with her boyfriend a her holiday plans too were ruined. She explained she was going to stay in a Caravan in Devon but she was now without a car. She was a very striking slim brunnete and had an assertive manner. She asked me if I drove and had a car. I said yes, and then she suggested we holidayed together in Devon. I could hardly believe my luck. We talked of our plans in more detail in her flat and she said she felt safe with me, it seemed all the girls thought I was polite and cute and would be their ideal brother figure. She explained further that she wanted my company, she liked me very much but did not fancy me in any way and made me promise I would be a gentleman and treat her with respect for the two weeks we would be together in a small two bedroomed caravan. I agreed although I sighed inwardly thinking how drop dead gorgeous she was. Then to by acute embrassement she told me I must promise not to masturbate during our two week period together because such behaviour freaked her out. I turned bright red with embrassment saying I had no intention of doing so. Inside my pants my six inch cock was beginning to stir and with her talk of masturbation it grew hard and my balls ached. I prayed she would not notice. When the holiday came we were blessed with good weather. There was a beach near the caravan and we went there everyday. She wore a tight bikini, she had two, one blue, one red. We played with a beach ball on the sand like kids, she was great fun. If we walked into the local village she would hold my hand and I would buy a paper as quickly as possible to hard my constant erections which pushed against the fabric of my shorts. Those walks were wonderful and after the third day she seemed to grow more and more affectionate giving me light kisses and light spanks to my bottom to guide me into a shop of her choice. It was the best holiday of my life apart from the increasing sexual frustration. At night with Claire sleeping next door I just held my cock which again was huge and aching. I felt so miserable there was no relief. we were there for two weeks, on the Monday of the second week it got so bad on the beach watching in her micro bikini that I swan out a long way and at last the cold sea water shrunk my cock. On my way back she ran to me and wrapped her arms around me, ‘you were gone such a long time David I was getting worried.’ She kissed me affectionately and I kissed her back holding her slim body gently in my arms. She felt so good and my erection was back worse than ever I was beginning to think the beast felt would burst through my trunks. That night in the Caravan she cooked me a light supper and poured me a glass of red wine, it was still warm and she wore a dressing gown tied tightly around her waist with nothing underneath. I wore some shorts and had postioned a paperback over my lap to hide yet another painfull erection. She sat down beside me and placed her gentle hand on my kneee, I nearly came there and then. ‘You have been very good.’ she said but I can see your are suffering looking at my lap with a cheeky grin on her face. I laughed trying to make a joke of my embrassment, inwardly I wanted to cry. ‘Why don’t you take it out and stroke it for me and I will watch.’ ‘No, I thought you were freaked out about masturbation.’ I replied. She then told me it was ok because I had her permission, it is the men who creep away and do it that are the pervs she told me. I still resisted, I was a nice middle class boy, a virgin and masturbation was still a very taboo subject back them. ‘Come on David, no need to be shy.’ then she undid her dressing gown reavealing her beautiful small but firm breasts. I gasped, then pulled down my trunks and started to pump furiuosly. ‘No no. not like an animal David , nice and slowly for me and don’t cum.’ I wanked slowly for her my balls were aching. ‘Please,’ I was begging now it was so humliating. ‘I don’t think it would be very polite to pruduce that horrible white sticky stuff in front of a lady, when you think you are about to come, stop, calm down and then we will start again.’ I could not believe my ears and after ten minuets of stop and start I placed my head down on her naked thighs and sobbed with frustration. She kissed me gently and then pulling her dressing gown around her got up went to the small fridge and brought over a mug of ice cubes. She place them around my huge cock, I nearly came again put then my erection calmed down until my cock lay soft between my thighs. ‘There, there,’ she said, ‘you see David you didn’t really need to do that horrible messy business, if you are a good boy I will let you play with it tomorrow, but remember no messy squirting.’

Originally posted 2009-10-12 12:40:54.

Femdom in Spain
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

By Faceunder1

My Mistress Wife who’s property it is my privilege to be said I know you enjoy having me use you for my pleasure just as much as I enjoy using you, however, I want to find out just how much more enjoyable it is for me when you don’t want it, and therefore, I am going to beat you for making a mess on the carpet.

But I haven’t I protested.. Oh, but you will She replied, and slapped my face for speaking without Her permission, now get your clothing off, She said, and sit down there on the floor with your legs wide apart.

She moved forward, and placed Her stocking clad foot on top of my soft penis, pressed it down a little, and began to move it slowly back and forth.

I was unable to prevent my manhood from growing bigger, and in no time at all it was fully erect, a firm rampant 7? by 2?, She continued to massage it until at long last, I was unable to stop myself from shooting off a huge load of semen on to the carpet, and the underside of Her silky nylon clad foot.

She must have felt the pulsations, for She stopped, lifted Her foot, ordered me to lie on the floor with my face directly underneath, She then wiped it all over my features, and then ordered my to lick the under side of the nylon spotlessly clean, swallowing everything, after which I was to do the same to the carpet.

Then as promised She beat me, which I must confess I enjoyed, but not as much as at other times, however, I did what I knew I must do, and said.

Thank you Mistress for beating me.

Faceunder1′s contributions are collected here.

Originally posted 2012-09-08 07:23:01.

Beaten For Her Amusement
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

To say I was surprised to see her again would be an understatement. It was out and out shock to see the first woman who introduced me to the dark world of submission. My heart pounded as I stood in the crowd of donors waiting to shake hands with the celebrities sponsoring the worthwhile charity in which we all supported. I had been awarded the honor of representing my firm for my hard work and now it seemed to be more to the reward than I ever expected. She hadn’t spotted me yet but I knew that she would if she continued to stand behind the celebrities. All I could hope for is that the celebrity would send her on an errand or she needed to take a break.

Staring at her, I felt my submissiveness to her return. Though her height was only 5’2, she would always wear the most expensive, fashionable, pair of shoes the raise her height to 5’5 or taller. The smart business suit she wore was tailored to show off the hard body beneath. A smile crossed my face as I realized that she was wearing her favorite lingerie: a black lace thong with a matching bra. I knew this because of the thigh high stockings she wore. When working at a high profile event, she always wore the most expensive lingerie. She had often remarked to me that it gave her an edge when dealing with a troublesome celebrity or promoting a big event. Best of all, she was wearing her makeup to perfection: Not too heavy, not too light. The only noticeable change was that her hair was cut shorter. I guess she had gotten tired of waiting for her hair to dry or she needed the time saved to make her commute every morning.

Kalinda always ran late in the morning.

My date pulled at my arm to make me close the gap that had formed in the line. I felt uncomfortable but Mia, my girlfriend for the last six months, would be disappointed if I pulled us out of line. Mia had been waiting to meet the actor of her favorite show. She often said how much the two of us resembled each other, but I never saw it. We did have the same nose and hair, but that hardly made us twins. Despite the long line, Mia was going to at least get her picture taken with him, which is one of the reasons why I was with her, and at least a hug. I could tell that she was excited in more ways than one by the meeting and that I would be rewarded when we got back to my apartment with a night of great sex.

As the line inched along, I pictured my self naked, wearing only a collar around my neck as well as that of those in line. I shook my head to clear myself of such thoughts. The mere presence of Kalinda was affecting me. It was just like the old days when I was interning at the same movie studio that Kalinda worked. That’s how we met, or I should say, where she spotted me. I was eager to please skinny Junior from college who was planning for a career in the entertainment field. Despite the internship having a reputation of being high stress, which turned out to be the opposite, it was a highly sought position and I had felt fortunate to have made it. My mentor was one of the old time bosses who didn’t revel in the chance to abuse the interns. We got along wonderfully once he saw my work ethic. The job was like going to Disneyland. I got to run several packages and messages to shoots. I met many famous people and saw the magic of film making. Eventually, I learned that it was a stressful business and that most of the famous people were very human beings. My friends and family were impressed though, so I tried not to shatter their illusions.

While my job seemed to be the best, I quickly recognized that most of the executives were under enormous pressure. They were the worse ones to deal with because they took it out on the interns or their assistants. It wasn’t uncommon to see another intern in tears or cursing the existence of their bosses while performing a menial task. My mentor was taking a two-week vacation and I was sent to work in promotions until he got back. It was here that I met Kalinda or I should say, where she discovered me.

Kalinda wasn’t the boss in the department, but she was an ambitious up and comer. She worked hard and, as I was to discover, played hard. Everyone seemed to grudgingly respect her, but they didn’t seem to like her very much. My first encounter with her was a severe tongue lashing about proper procedure in her office. I stood there and took it somewhat stoically. After that, I became her go-to guy. Whenever she wanted something done, I was the first one she called. While I was attracted to her assertiveness and beauty, I never thought of pursuing a relationship. This didn’t stop me from fantasizing about Kalinda and masturbating to images of us having sex. She had a strong effect on me.

It all changed one day when she called me into her office the last day I was to return to my mentor to move a box to another office. The box was in the middle of the office right behind her desk which was against the wall. She swivelled around in her chair as I entered giving me a nice view of her crossed legs. “Pick up the box and take it over to post production.” I bent over and tried to lift the box. It was heavier than I expected. I repositioned myself so that my back was to Kalinda. Grabbing the box again, I bent my knees and prepared to lift the box. It was then that I heard Kalinda’s gasp. I turned around to see if there was something wrong only to see her legs had parted giving me a view of her thighs and that her face was slightly flushed. Our eyes locked on each other and I saw my lust reflected in her eyes. I wanted to say something, but instead, I turned back around and bent over again. I paused for a few unnecessary seconds before lifting the box and walking out the door.

The rest of the day was uneventful, but the scene kept replaying like the out takes of a movie in production. I saw what had happened from different angles. Something about me had turned her on and I knew that it was my bending over had triggered it. I felt myself getting aroused by the fact that I had made Kalinda, the demanding woman, horny. This made me feel satisfied on a deep level. My last day in her department was going to be left with me having aroused Kalinda. Too bad nothing was going to come of it, I thought.

The office manager called my desk and asked me if I could put in a few extra hours on my last day helping one of the promoters with a project. I thought about it. I hadn’t any plans and it was the last day, I might as well help them out one more time. Besides, my mentor impressed that it was better for people to owe you a favor than for you to owe them a favor. So I agreed. I was given an hour and half to get something to eat before reporting back to the office. I don’t eat much, so after eating a quick meal, I went home, showered, and changed clothes. The office was mostly deserted when I returned. The office manager had left an envelope on my desk with my name on it. I opened and read it. My heart skipped a beat as I reread the note. I was working with Kalinda.

I knocked on Kalinda’s open door. She spun around casually and smiled softly. “Close the door behind you.”

I pulled the door until it clicked shut. Since it was a working office, there were no extra chairs in Kalinda’s office so I was forced to stand. I shifted nervously while standing silently before her. I became uncomfortably aware of everything and that the office had shrunk in size with every second of silence. I was terrified of saying something wrong even though I didn’t know why. The amused look in her eyes undermined my confidence even more. She crossed her legs and let her shoe slip so that it was being held on by her toes.

“You are here to help me on a special project,” Kalinda informed me. I nodded in agreement, though I didn’t know why.

She stood up and looked up at me. “I’m not going to lie to you. You’ve been on my mind for sometime now. I have been watching you ever since you arrived on the lot and you make me wet.”

The word “wet” made my throat tightened.

“Does that make you uncomfortable? It shouldn’t. It’s a compliment.” She lifted her hand and stroked my cheek softly. “You should understand something before we begin. You are free to leave or say no if you are unable to continue. Just remember one thing, I am in charge of my relationships if you get my meaning. Do you understand?”

I nodded and said, “yeah.”

She didn’t smile, but I could tell that she approved. “Good. Now go to my desk and read the letter on my desk. If you agree then sign it, date it, and print the time. Or else, leave.”

I went over to the desk and bent over to read the letter which stated:

“I do so willingly and freely give myself over totally to Kalinda for the next 12 hours and promise to obey all commands given. I understand that I expect nothing in return nor am I coerced in anyway into signing this document.”

Below it was a place for my signature and time. It was vague, but I knew what I was agreeing to as I signed, dated, and printed the time. She picked up the paper and read it. Then she opened up her top drawer and placed in an envelope. “Wet your tongue and stick it out,” she commanded. This was harder than I thought for my mouth had gone dry, but I managed to find some saliva somewhere. I stuck out my tongue and she ran the flap along it leaving a glue taste in my mouth.

Kalinda sealed the envelope and placed it in her top drawer. “Now, take off all of your clothes for me. Be sure to fold them neatly and place them in front of the door.”

I hesitated. “Do it now or else leave.”

I did as she asked. Kalinda hand wrapped around my cock causing it to grow. The head was a deep purple and it throbbed within her, delicate, well-manicured hand. She pumped it slowly which caused me to moan. Then she let go of it.

“Isn’t my cock nice,” she stated as if I were some piece of furniture? She grabbed the tip and pinched it between her nails causing me to gasp. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes…your cock is nice,” I stammered. She released it and stepped away.

“Good. Don’t you ever forget that it is my cock not yours for the next twelve hours? I will do with it whatever I like so don’t expect anything. Now I want to play with it for a few more minutes. You are to hold still.”

Kalinda pulled, squeezed, rubbed, caressed, slapped and pinched my cock for the next fifteen minutes. Try as I may, I couldn’t stop from pulling away which caused her to yank and squeeze my balls which made me nauseous and ache. Her words cut through me like a hot poker. pre cum spurted unto her hand which she held up and made me lick off her hand. After I finished, she stepped away from me and stopped her assault.

“Now bend over my desk. I want to see that ass,” Kalinda ordered with a deep, flustered, voice.

I bent over. She sighed as her hand caressed it. I felt her other hand reach underneath and cup my balls. They felt heavy as the hand then grabbed my cock while the other hand tickled my anus. She slowly pressed her finger inside while pumping and stroking me. I soon found myself gasping and moaning as her finger worked its way deep inside. The arousal and pleasure were more intense than anything I could imagine, but at the same time, I felt humiliated as she took me like a man might take another man. The thought repulsed me. She must have sensed what I was thinking for she licked my ear and whispered, “It’s not fun to be my bitch, is it?”

“No… yes… I… ah…don’t know.” I replied.

She continued while I endured as best I could. The repulsion remained, but I wanted more. Finally she stopped after having snaked in two fingers.

“Remain there. Just like that,” she commanded.

The sound of a briefcase opening made me look around at a leather paddle she held in her hands. Kalinda saw this and immediately struck. “Eyes forward. And don’t you dare cum on my desk. Now count out loud and don’t forget to thank me for each one or we will start all over.”

“One. Thank you Kalinda.” I said immediately.

By the time Kalinda was done, we had restarted three times. I knew my ass was going to be back and blue. The heat from it was painful and she was proud of her handy work. Somehow, I managed not to come and had become semierect. There were tears streaking down my face before she finally stopped. Kalinda made me kneel and pulled me to her until I stopped crying. She wiped the tears away with a handkerchief and stepped away. Unfastening her skirt, I looked at her black lace G-string and thigh high stockings. She sat down in her chair and pulled the G-string down her legs, revealing her sex and the dark patch of pubic hair at the top. Then handed them to me. I took them in my hand and felt how wet they were. Kalinda rolled the chair over to me and looked down at me. “Now, I want you to do what I tell you.”

My face was between her thighs and I learned how she liked to be pleasured. I don’t know how long I spent there, but I didn’t stop until she pushed me away. She stroked me to fullness once again and then, which surprised me, gave me an intense blow job which brought me to the edge of orgasm. Then she stopped and stood up. My eyes devoured her well shaped and toned ass and legs as she reached into her case and pulled out what looked to be a jock strap. “Put these on,” she commanded. I stepped into them and pulled them up. It was difficult because of my arousal, but I managed to stuff it inside. She leaned over and attached a small padlock pulling out the key. She placed the key inside a 9-X 12 envelopes followed by the sealed envelope inside. Then sealed and addressed it to me.

“You are wearing a chastity belt. The key and the letter that you signed will be mailed and waiting on your desk tomorrow. I don’t want you to abuse my property until after six hours is up. You will bring the key back to me and I will set you free. Go home.”

After an uncomfortable night sleeping on my stomach, I arrived the next day and found the envelope waiting for me. I took the key immediately to Kalinda’s office where she made me wait outside. Acknowledging my presence, I followed her to the ladies’ bathroom. She put an “out of order” sign on the bathroom door and pulled me inside by my tie. Once there, she led me by my tie to a lounger and ordered me to remove my shoes and pants. Then she inspected her paddle handiwork before unlocking and sliding the chastity belt down. After stepping out of them, my cock sprung erect. Her lips wrapped around it and she proceeded to suck, lick, and stroke me to the most intense orgasm of my life. She kissed me and pushed my seed deep into my mouth with her tongue causing me to moan in surprise. I coughed after she broke off the kiss and spat a few times. Kalinda chuckled and told me to get dress. The rest of the day, I was a mess, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. Before I was through, an envelope arrived from Kalinda. Inside was a new contract with directions to her apartment. The time period was for the whole weekend.

Kalinda and I spent most of the summer playing. She introduced me to so much about me and scene that I fell in love. We did more than bdsm. We were conventional-boyfriend and girlfriend most of the time. By the time Fall semester came, I felt heartbroken to leave, but leave I did. We stayed in touch, but never really returned to our relationship. I went to Law School and that was the end. Upon graduation, I accepted a job with a medium Law firm back in L.A. Though we hooked back up for a celebration, Kalinda and I didn’t really try to renew our relationship. She joined with one of the big talent agencies and was involved with another by then. There was the annual Christmas card, but that was all.

Mia pulled on my arm and handed me her camera. The actor smiled and they hugged. Mia was quite giddy after they exchanged a few words. The actor nodded and winked at me as he answered a question about a future plot line. I smiled politely and dragged Mia away. We walked over to the table where our reserved seating was at. Mia and talked pleasantly when a familiar voice called my name. Turning, I saw it was Kalinda.

I got up and we hugged in the friendly, but not too friendly, fake Hollywood way.

“Can I steal him away for a few minutes,” she asked Mia?

Mia’s blue eyes flashed something of a warning before telling Kalinda okay. Kalinda led me to the bar.

“I like her. She’s cute.”

“Yeah. So do I.”

“Are you two serious?” Kalinda asked inquisitively.

“Serious enough,” I replied.

“You two play?”

“Not much. Usually she is the submissive one.”

Kalinda smiled and handed me her card.

“If you ever get lonely for the old days, call me.”

I took her card. “I don’t think so, but I will hold onto it.”

“You were the best one. I wanted you to know that.”

We looked at each other. I smiled and placed the card in my wallet.

“I don’t know if Mia and I are going to make it, but just in case it doesn’t, I will hold onto this.”

We returned arm in arm back to the reception room. Mia got jealous, but it didn’t last for more than five minutes. They warmed up to each other as Mia picked Kalinda’s brain about the actor. Eventually, Kalinda had to leave. Later, Mia picked my brain about Kalinda. I told her everything- -except my submission. It was a special secret that I didn’t want Mia to know until I was certain about how our relationship was going to develop. I knew that she didn’t have it in her to be a Domina, but I didn’t really miss being submissive to care. Kalinda had shown me about that side of me to last the rest of my life.

Originally posted 2012-11-02 12:50:07.

Office Slave
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

In my former life, I can recall dating a girl named Carmen. Carmen was a smart,
pretty young thing, just out of college. She gave wonderful blowjobs as I
recall. Carmen and I made a smart looking modern young couple. We had great
sex, as smart looking modern young couples do. I can even remember wild
thoughts running through my mind: serious relationships, future, even marriage!
Carmen was nice. Carmen was practical. But Carmen had a roommate….

Aeysha was the kind of girl, that in my former life, I didn’t like much at
all. Not that she wasn’t polite, but she had a kind of condescending way about
her. She gave off the signals, albeit covertly, that she didn’t care much for
me (or for any guy for that matter) and that Carmen would be better off without
me. Consequently, I tried my best to avoid speaking with Aeysha too much,
preferring to bring Carmen home with me as quickly as possible to do what
couples do. The few extended conversations that I ever had with Aeysha turned
into disagreements about men, women, feminism, etc. Aeysha was everything that
Carmen was not: Dark of hair, sarcastic, opinionated, quick-witted. I must say
that in retrospect, I was intimidated by Aeysha. She wasn’t exactly pretty,
but she had a very toned, hot body that she achieved through spending as many
diligent hours at the gym as her grad student schedule would allow.

As it happens, about two months into our relationship Carmen had to leave town
on short notice upon the death of her grandfather. She had called and left me
a message that she would be returning on that Saturday, and to pick her up at
her apartment, as she would be in the mood to have some fun. When I arrived at
her place however, I found only Aeysha.

“Oh hi, um…what’s up?”
“Is Carmen ready yet?”
“Carmen is Chicago until tomorrow.”
“She said she was coming back tonight.”
“No she’s coming back on Sunday.”
“Jesus…she left a message saying Saturday.”
“Well she must have said Sunday, because she’s not here.”

I asked Aeysha if I could come in to use the bathroom before heading back
home. She sighed and let me in. After I had used the facilities I passed her
in the living room on the way to the door. I got just as far as the door
handle.

“Oh, Bobbie?”
“Yes?”
“You didn’t say thank you for my allowing you to use the bathroom.”

What a bitch.

“Um…thank you Aeysha”
“That’s better. Now before you go, I was thinking that maybe we could get to
know each other a little better…”
“Well ok. What do you want to do? Have a drink or something?”
“I was thinking perhaps we could fuck each other’s brains out.”
“JESUS Aeysha. I’m dating Carmen. You know that!”
“Oh come on…it will be our little secret. Just once. I want to see for
myself what Carmen has been raving about. You do think I’m attractive, don’t
you?”
“Well yeah but…”

But.
But.

(Continued … )

Originally posted 2009-03-13 12:46:17.

My Cruel Bitch Ruler I
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

Greg unlocked the door to his condo, and they both entered. It had been over
three months since he’d gotten laid. Consequently, he had made a conscious
effort not to show his true hunger to the young woman that accompanied him.

Nikki removed her waist length black leather jacket. Greg politely took it and
told her to make herself comfortable. As he hung her jacket in the closet, he
offered her a drink. She requested white wine.

Greg confirmed that he indeed had white wine. On his way to the kitchen, he
stopped to turn up the thermostat. That was a little trick he had learned years
ago. He knew that women were more likely to remove their clothes if they felt
warm.

As he poured their wine, he thought about his good fortune. He had met Nikki
only two hours earlier at his favorite neighborhood watering hole. She seemed
so out of place, being such a beauty… and alone. Greg never really had
expected her to accept his offer for a drink. After all, they were a mismatch.

Being 44 himself, Greg figured Nikki to be in her mid to late twenties. He’d
somewhat expected her to address the age issue, but she hadn’t. Since he
usually passed for his late thirties, Greg saw no reason to bring it up
himself. He was proud of his low mileage and years of effort at the gym.

Greg carried the two glasses of wine out to the living room where he found her
inspecting the pictures on the wall. She accepted a glass, and then sat on the
sofa. He sat across from her in his easy chair, so that he could study her as
they made small talk.

Nikki was even more beautiful than he’d been able to earlier determine in the
dark and smoky bar. She wasn’t overly pretty or feminine, but she had a raw,
earthy, and exotic look that Greg found irresistible. Her chestnut colored hair
was long, thick, and wavy. Piercing steel blue eyes, pointed eyebrows, full
pouty lips, and high cheekbones adorned her softly chiseled face.

Whenever her eyes broke contact with his, he would quickly glance down at her
breasts. She had unzipped her tight, black, ribbed knit sweater far enough for
him to see her ample cleavage and the top of her black laced bra.

Every time she turned away, he would steal a look at her long, defined, slender
legs. She was not wearing any hose, but her legs were smooth enough to allow
her short leather skirt to slowly inch up her thighs whenever she shifted her
body for comfort. Another inch or two, and he might be able to see her panties,
if she wore any.

Greg’s cock noticeably responded to the visual delight seated across from him.
The combination of his Dockers and boxer shorts gave his cock the freedom to
create a crotch tent. With the exception of attending a strip bar, he couldn’t
recall the last time he had gotten so hard from just looking at a woman.

Nikki shifted her weight again, and uncrossed her legs. Greg caught a glimpse
of a dark patch between her legs, but didn’t have enough time to determine if
it was her pubic hair or dark colored panties. His cock swelled to its’ full
capacity as he fantasized about burying his face between her thighs and using
his tongue to make her pussy feel good.

Nikki broke his reverie by requesting another glass of wine. He cursed himself
for using the small wine glasses. Now he had no choice but to stand up and
expose the huge bulge in his pants. He took her glass and quickly exited the
room, feeling a little embarrassed.

When he returned with the refilled glasses, he found her standing over his
entertainment system running her finger along a shelf. He handed her the glass
of wine and noticed that her finger had left a line on the dusty shelf.

“I haven’t dusted for a while.”, he explained, smiling sheepishly.

“Typical.”, was all she said. She sat down on the sofa once again.

“So, I see that you were able to… ahem, compose yourself while in the
kitchen.”, she commented.

“What do you mean?”, he asked, knowing full well what she meant.

“You were rather aroused before I asked for more wine.”, she explained with a
devilish smile, looking him straight in the eyes.

“W-well, yes I was. You’re a beautiful woman.”, he admitted, surprised at her
directness. He noticed that she may have unzipped her sweater another inch or
so while he was in the kitchen.

“Did you enjoy sneaking your little glances at my breasts and up my skirt?”,
she asked just bit curtly.

She had been cock teasing him all along, Greg thought. He felt a little
annoyed, but saw no point in denying it.

“I suppose I DID. As I’ve said, you really are beautiful and I … “, he tried
to explain.

“How old are you?”, she interrupted, crossing her legs.

“Forty four.”, he responded.

“Hmm… A little older than I thought, but that may even be better. When’s the
last time you got laid?”, she asked in a matter of fact manner.

“It’s been a while.”, he replied, off balance from her directness. He preferred
to be honest, but he didn’t want to be any more specific than he had to.

“How LONG of a while?”, she pressed, uncrossing her legs and spreading them
just enough to make her skirt climb up a couple inches.

“Three or four months.”, he reluctantly responded.

“A one night stand?”, she inquired.

“Yes.”, he replied.

“Hmm. How many times have you gotten laid in the past year?”, she asked.

“Hey look, what’s with the third degree?”, Greg finally objected, but he had
allowed the conversation to go far enough for Nikki to tell that he could be
controlled.

“Greg, haven’t you wondered what a woman like me would want with a man like
you?”, she asked confidently.

He grinned sheepishly and admitted that he had.

“You obviously find me quite attractive, Greg. What do you like about me?”, she
inquired with that devilish smile of hers.

“Everything!”, he responded. Unable to resist any longer, he stood up and
approached her.

“Sit DOWN Greg, we’re not done talking yet!”, she instructed in a controlling
tone.

He looked into her piercing eyes, then docilely retreated back to his chair.
She caught him glancing at her thighs. He quickly looked away.

“Go ahead and LOOK Greg. Take a GOOD look! When’s the last time you wanted
someone as much as you want me now?”, she continued, shifting herself so that
her skirt climbed still another inch up her thighs.

“It’s been a very, very long time.”, he admitted.

“What do you think the odds are of having someone like me here again anytime
soon, Greg?”, she asked.

He unabashedly stared up and down at her body and thought for a moment.

“Probably not very good.”, he admitted.

“Listen to me carefully, Greg. If you play your cards just right, you’ll have
the chance to see a lot of me in the future. But if you fuck up just ONCE, I
will walk out of your life forever. Those are the rules, Greg. They’re simple
enough. Do you understand them?”, she asked, spreading her legs just enough for
him to see the patch of black between her legs once again.

“Yes.”, he replied. His cock was rock hard all over again, but this time it
didn’t concern him.

“Have you ever had a woman tell you what to do, Greg?”, she asked.

“No, I can’t say that I have.”, he replied, suspecting that he was about to for
the first time.

“No, I didn’t think so. Novices like you are often hesitant about doing some of
the things that I require. So here’s how it’s gonna work, Greg. I’ll give you
just ONE warning. If you don’t fall in line after that, I’ll walk out of your
life and we’ll be done for good. Understand?”, she inquired.

“Yes.”, he responded. He had read about women like Nikki before, but had always
believed such stories to be fiction.

“Good, I’m pleased! Tell me. What would you like to do now, Greg?”, she teased.

- Continued … -

Originally posted 2007-09-13 16:13:58.

He Becomes Her Toy I
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

Enslaved Sissy Husband Cuckold Forced Fellatio

I am caught in a trap partially of my own making: caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, as it were, ensnared by my need to serve and submit totally to a woman and torn between that desire and the horrible, sickening realization that my wife is sleeping with another man and I am helpless to stop it.

My mind is awash in conflicting thoughts and emotions. Arousal at the thought of being so utterly dominated, that weak-kneed feeling of being owned for real, playing no longer. The natural feelings of jealousy and hurt, the sheer envy of the man that he can be a man for her when to me it is no longer even an option.

It wasn’t always thus. For years my wife Lindsay and I had played with BDSM, but play is all it had seemed to be. We’d ‘pretend’ to be Mistress and slave about once a month, usually ending the scene with normal, vanilla lovemaking. And although it was fun and enjoyable I wanted more.

Be careful what you wish for, because you just may get it.

I suppose I had set myself up for what was to come, that one Friday afternoon. Lindsay hadn’t even been gone five minutes on her shopping trip before I was into the clothing, the makeup, the magazines. My..needs are like a hunger in me, that I’ve had since earliest childhood. And once a month, pretending to be a slave, feeling like I’m topping from the bottom, was nowhere near enough.

The black satin bikini panties and matching bra felt heavenly on my skin, like a soft caress, but it also felt wrong, alien on my hairy and masculine body. Even when I am fully dressed and made up I know in my mind that I’m not exactly Pamela Anderson. I’m a tall, 6’4″ built man, in my forties, with a beer gut and body hair in all sorts of interesting places. But that doesn’t matter to the fantasy, does it? In my fantasies I’m not big and awkward, hairy and laughable in women’s clothing, I become as if by magic a graceful, willowy, androgynous man, all sleek and smooth and pretty. I was lost in that fantasy, touching myself through the panties, lipstick on my lips, domination magazine close at hand when a calm and soft voice started me from my daydream.

“Once a month isn’t good enough for you, is it? You want this to be real.” Lindsay said, walking into the room and putting the shopping bags aside. I must have been a sight, eyes bulging, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. I hadn’t expected her home for hours. She smiled at my surprise.

“I..can explain ,,, ” I stammered.

“No need, mon cheri, I’ve been kind of suspecting this for a while. And planned accordingly. I meant to surprise you today.

“You want this to be real, don’t you? To stop playing a game and to truly be my slave Admit it.” She ordered.

I could only stare at her feet and mumble out the side of my mouth. “Yes”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Mistress. I want to be your slave.”

“And you’ll do everything I ask of you from now on? Without complaint or hesitation?”

The room felt electric. A line was being drawn here, a clear dividing line in our relationship. Beyond that line was the dark of the unknown. I felt a shiver of both fear and excitement go up and down my spine. Things would never be the same again.

I sank down to my knees at her feet. “Yes Mistress I will obey you utterly.”

She ran a hand through my hair, stroking it tenderly. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Things changed. No longer did we divide chores equally: I was now expected to serve as a maid and wait on her hand and foot. Which gave her cause to use the riding crop on me on many occasions, as my cooking and cleaning skills were very lacking in the beginning. I was kept smooth all over, shaving and waxing, fighting the body hair war nearly every day to its usual stalemate. My male undergarments were given away to Goodwill, all but one pair kept under lock and key for any doctor’s visits I might have.

Sex had changed. I was forbidden the use of my cock, for the most part, having to serve my Mistress as if I were female, with my mouth, my hands, with toys. Things had totally reversed-now it was vanilla sex that was the once a month treat, allowed that glorious privilege of making love to her. And as soon as we were both sated I’d have to go back on my knees again.

Whenever we were alone and at home I was kept collared and leashed, nude or in female clothing. My wardrobe expanded almost every week, it seemed. Mistress took great delight in making her new ‘slavegirl’ look as pretty as possible, and made me model outfits like it was a fashion show. I wasn’t Kim any more at home-I was Kimberly, and as weeks grew into months it seemed like I would stay that way. I’d dress normally, on the outside at any rate, in the mornings to go to work and immediately upon coming home turn back into Lindsay’s slavegirl.

It wasn’t like the fiction I had read at all. In the stories in the magazines and on the Net I’d read about cruel and hateful wives and Mistresses, who rule their men with contempt and almost a hatred between the lines. Arousing, yes, but mean-spirited. If anything like some of those stories happened in real life, the couples involved were on a one-way ticket to be Jerry Springer guests. Not so with Lindsay Yes, she trained me. Yes, she punished me, sometimes whipping or spanking me until I cried. Yes, she could be cruel if it suited her. But I was never allowed one moment to think that I was unloved or unwanted as a husband and slave, and I think it was that gentleness that enslaved me the most. I’d find myself wanting to do anything, endure any punishment, suffer whatever she wished just so I could see her smile and know she was proud of her slave.

All of this came under one proviso: that if I ever used my safeword, it was over. We would go back to being normal husband and wife and I would know that I had failed her as a slave for all time. I would have to face the fact that I couldn’t follow through on the fantasies in reality.

But until one, fateful night, that had never been put to the test.

I was kneeling at her feet in my pink maid’s uniform as she was sitting on a stool before the vanity mirror, making herself up. She was dressed to kill, in a black, short, tight mini-skirt, a red, silk low-cut top and black stockings. She finished applying makeup, smiled down at me, and liberally sprayed her neck and arms with my favorite perfume. Then, lifting her skirt, she applied it to her thighs and crotch.

She got up and sat on the bed. “Here, be useful, you can take the curlers out of my hair.” As I was removing them she crossed her legs slowly. I could hear the sound of stocking against stocking. She knew the sound of nylon against nylon, the smell of the perfume, and the sight of her gorgeous legs would drive me crazy. My hands trembled.

After the curlers were removed, I was allowed to brush her long dark hair. As I brushed, she spoke to me, softly, gently.

“Do you know what I’m doing tonight, Kimberly?”

“No, Mistress..”

“I’m going out to be with a real man.”

I can’t describe the feeling that ran through me. The bottom of my world had dropped to the floor with my stomach. I felt hurt. I felt angry. And I felt deeply excited. The ultimate humiliation to have my wife fucking and sucking another man.

Pain must have been the dominant emotion however, because she took my chin and forced me to look at her. “Don’t look like that. You must have known that this would have to happen eventually. I have needs, too. And as much as I’ve loved having little Kimberly service meuits not the same as being fucked by a man, and you know it.”

I gulped. “I could make love to you more often, if you allow me to..” I began.

“What, and lose my new girlfriend? NouI much prefer you this way. Soft and sexy, meek and obeident, wrapped around my little finger. Every time you use that cock of yours I lose about a week’s worth of training in you. So no, once a month is our limit to be ‘normal’.”

She looked into my eyes. “Kim this doesn’t mean I don’t love you, I do. That hasn’t changed in all the time we’ve been together. No one else will ever take your place in my heart, and you’ve got to believe that, and trust me, or you can take that collar and that uniform off right now and forget about Kimberly entirely. We might go kinky once a month again after that, but I doubt it. I’ve gotten quite used to having you as my slave, and it’s either all the way, or no way. So which is it?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I felt so confused…torn between my desires and my heart. And I couldn’t believe my own mouth as a timid, quiet voice spoke. “I want to stay as your slave, Mistress”

She hugged me close and dried my tears, soothing me. “There there, that’s a good girl. I knew you would. This isn’t going to be as bad as you fear. I love you. Just trust me you hear me? Trust me. This is the first real test of your submission to me, and I want you to pass it with flying colors. You have to get it into your head that you are a possession now. My possession. Something to be used as I see fit on my terms. This isn’t a game anymore.”

I heard her, but everything felt like it was happening to someone else. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening. “Yes Mistress.”

After she was gone, I tried to bury my feelings carrying out the orders she left me. I cleaned the house spotless, practically attacking the kitchen floor with a mop in my frustrations. I tried making myself believe that this was all a trick-that she wasn’t out with someone else, that she was out somewhere, alone, chuckling quietly at pulling one over on me. She really wouldn’t break our vows, would she?

As it got later and later that lie I told to myself seemed less and less convincing. Some of the orders I was given didn’t help either. ‘Clean two of our best wineglasses and have them ready on the table with a chilled bottle of wine.’ ‘Set candles about the bedroom, living room, and around the tub in the bathroom.’ ‘Set up the spare bedroom for you to sleep tonight.’

At midnight she called. From the background noise, it sounded like she was in some kind of bar or nightclub. “Light the candles, freshen up your makeup, and put on a fresh uniform if you’re all dirty from cleaning. We’re coming home and you better answer the door, Kimberly.”

My heart was in my throat. “I can’t! Not like this!”

She hung up.

The next half hour was hell on my nerves. I obeyed her instructions to the letter and knelt by the door in the dark, shaking like a leaf.

I heard the car pull in the drive. No two cars. Oh my God.

I wanted to run and hide, to bolt like a rabbit, my heart pounding and heavy. But I rose, slowly and painfully in my heels, cheeks blushing red and waiting the inevitable.

The doorbell rang, and, more frightened than I had ever been in my entire life, I opened it.

There was my wife, my Mistress, smiling, in the arms of another man. He was shorter than I was, slender and handsome, definitely younger. It was a bizarre twist of life-he could’ve made a more convincing woman than I ever could!

Lindsay smiled wickedly. “Vin, this is Kimberly, my maid, slave, and property who I’ve told you so much about. Kimberly, this is Vin but you will call him Master.”

My jaw could have hit the floor. It was all I could do to curtsey, but with that one curtsey everything changed in my life forever. I had submitted totally, and accepted it, even if it would be some time before I could come to terms with it. Lindsay’s triumphant smile told me that she knew it too, that the line had been crossed and that now I truly was her slave and plaything. I was her possession.

Things could have gotten ugly right then and there if the guy had been an asshole, or like one of those macho types in forced fem fiction that slap the other guy around with contempt and amusement. To tell the truth, that’s what I had expected and feared I cringed when he reached out to me, expecting a slap on the face and derision.

But all he did was stroke my cheek, very gently, and whisper “Such a pretty girl..I’m glad to meet you, Kimberly.”

That kindness melted me. I knew I looked ridiculous, there in my pink maid’s uniform, cowering before my wife in the arms of another man. But he didn’t laugh or look at me with scorn, only a warm amusement.

Lindsay laughed softly. “I think she likes you Vin, she responded to your touch like a real slut. I think you’re going to be bring out her true colors, sure enough.”

She shut the door behind them and addressed me. “Fetch the drinks and serve us in the living room, slavegirl.”

I obeyed without even thinking about it, and soon found myself kneeling at their feet while they sipped wine and nuzzled. As she slipped a hand down Vin’s pants she spoke to me.

“I’m afraid I lied to you a little earlier, Kimberly I gave you the impression that I was going out to pick up a stranger. But that couldn’t have been father from the truth. I’ve been getting to know Vin for some time now.”

I must have winced, or shown some sign of pain at that. So she’s been unfaithful to me all along?

She could read my mind. “Oh, don’t start. It wasn’t like that-we haven’t touched each other until now. I met Vin over the Net, on one of those web sites you look at when you think I’m not paying attention. Something-trap or other, its been a while. Anyway, I needed to see that you would submit and go along with it first, so give me some credit, eh? And now that you’ve surrendered to me, and you two seem to get along so well, that the time has come to make things more interesting.

“Take his shoes off then undress him from the waist down. Now.”

My hands shook, the duality of my nature screaming at me from both sides. One side was that this was natural, as a slave, I was technically sexless in orientation, and should be able to serve both men and women equally. The other side was that everything in my upbringing and culture had ingrained inside me, that this was wrong, this was alien, this was sinful.

Sinful or not the warm thrill of submission as I began undressing him, forced to be this intimate with another male was beyond belief. The trembling soon eased and I found myself on my knees, facing his cock, my wife’s hand stroking and toying with it.

She smiled down at me. “Ask Vin if you can suck his cock.”

I had a feeling this was coming but it was still a bit of a shock. With that sense of unreality creeping over me I asked in a soft and unconvincing voice. “May I suck your cock?”

Her look of disapproval was as good as a slap. “I don’t think you were polite enough, and I don’t think you meant it. Mark my words, slut, before this night is through, you WILL mean it. I want you to beg for it. I want you to beg so much that I see tears.”

I cringed and tried again. “Please Sir, may I please suck your cock?”

Vin ran a hand absently through my hair. “Better, but I’m still not convinced. Stand over there and watch us. Play with yourself, but you better NOT come, got it?”

One look at Lindsay told me that I had better obey this man’s orders as if they had come straight from her. A new wave of embarrassment, submission and humiliation flooded me as I got up and stood in the corner, obeying him. I began to touch and caress my little traitor, who was erect through my panties and telling all the world that I was turned on by being made a cuckold.

Lindsay bent over and began kissing and licking his cock, eyes locked on meuoh god those eyes. Beautiful and dark, flashing with arousal at her triumph and my obedience, I could refuse those eyes nothing.

Vin lifted her skirt and was kissing her crotch through her silk black teddy. It was only seconds before it was unsnapped and her pantyhose was down. They moved around into a sixty-nine position and went at it, pleasuring each other while I watched helplessly. It seemed to last forever.

A little voice kept going over and over in my head: “This isn’t happening, Kim, this is happening to someone else.” But the voice’s words of reassurance were hollow compared to the sight before me, and its accompanying soundtrack of moaning and groaning.

Every once in a while Lindsay would pause and make comments to me. “Having a good time playing with yourself, girl?” “Wouldn’t you like a taste of this delicious cock? All girls love cock..aren’t you my good girl?” “Don’t you want to be my good slut and suck his cock, or take it up the ass? I know you want to you want to please Me and your new Master..”

The words and themes were repetitive, slamming home each time. Oh, she knew my buttons all right. She would condition me with her words, turn my every fetish into a weapon to use as she saw fit. This wasn’t topping from the bottom any longer, this was true slavery. And as her words rang in my ears I found the self of me that I called Kim slipping away to nothingness, replaced by a new persona: Kimberly, the slutty little slave-girl and maid, who would forever be at the feet of her Mistress and Master.

Eventually things got too hot for them, and they moved into the final act. I was ordered by my Goddess to position myself closely behind his balls as he entered her. She didn’t want me to miss a thing. “Keep playing with yourself, but you better not come, bitch.” I did as she commanded.

She gasped as he entered her, growing more and more vocal as theyufucked. There’s no better way of putting it-it wasn’t making love. Lindsay and I make love: Lindsay and Vin fuck. There’s a difference but I’m damned if I can explain it. She howled her pleasure like an animal, showing me a side of her I had never seen as she clawed his back into red, bleeding marks. It was so unreal I’m 6’4″ and this guy barely over five feet is like the fuck of the century?

After an eternity of the agonyuand ecstasy of watching this, Vin finally came as he brought her to a second climax. Bathed in sweat and catching their breath, they held each other on the couch for a while, my existence forgotten.

Once she had calmed down a while, she sat up on the couch and picked up a leash from the coffee-table. Attaching it to my collar she said in a husky voice. “Lick your Master’s cum from my cunt, slut.” She pulled me to my knees, my head between her legs and licking for all I was worth without hesitation.

I had done this before, plenty of times, but never like this, not another man’s cum. The aroma was familiar and pungent, the taste strange and bitter. It took a long time to clean her, and she moved and squirmed beneath my mouth, my licking bringing her to her third climax of the evening. Finally she gripped my hair in a tight grip and yanked me away from her now very sensitive pussy.

“Now bitch beg for your Master’s cock.”

And I did. I whined, I pleaded, I begged for it like it was the one thing that could make my life complete. I begged without shame. Somehow, within the space of a few hours, I was conditioned and broken enough that it felt right to beg for it, to be a slut. It fit the part.

She tugged the leash towards Vin, who took a hold of the end and drew me in between his legs. He pulled me towards his cock and ordered, “Suck me slut..suck me hard so I can fuck your Mistress again.”

His cock was still somewhat spent, soft and limp. I knew I had to do a good job to please my Owner both my Owners. Lindsay grabbed my head and pushed it to within an inch of it. She then put her face close to mine and teased. “I know you want it that’s a girl”

I slowly took it into my mouth, sucking lightly. It felt alien in my mouth, meaty, smelling of my wife and smeared with their juices combined. She stroked my hair and whispered words of encouragement in my ear, but I was past hearing. I closed my eyes and surrendered, body, heart and soul to my fate.

Kim was gone. I was Kimberly, now and forever a possession.

Sissy Slave Husband Forced to Suck Cock
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

By Fred

Chapter One – LOOK MA, NO HANDS

My wife has always enjoyed watching me masturbate, and over the years she has had a lot of fun helping out. We have a very varied sex life of which hand jobs are only a part, but there are some hand jobs that are worth a story.

For years now, most of my wife’s hand jobs have been worthy of a story. She found out long ago what she likes to do most, she grabs my nuts and holds them, massaging them while I jerk off. Over they years, she has discovered how to perfectly clinch her hand around my nuts and slowly apply pressure harder and harder.

I’ve had to encourage her to this point, for a long time she was always afraid of hurting me. Occasionally she did, but it was never too terribly bad. In time she has come to love holding my nuts in her hand and squeezing harder and harder until I came in a jolting orgasm. Lately she doesn’t let go until after I’m completely finished coming and finally reach out on my own to gently peel her hand off my now spent nuts.

Recently she has taken up a new sport while hand jobbing, she squeezes and massages my nuts for an extended period while insisting that I not cum, until she tells me to. While it is very rare that she hurts me doing this, she excels at convincing me that I can bear it just a little longer without cumming.

After a couple of weeks of these occasional hand jobs, we had one hand job we both agreed we won’t forget. It started off like the recent others; I was giving my dick a little Cocca Butter service. My wife had her little hand completely wrapped around the top of my sac, my nuts were in the palm of her hand and her slender fingers spread and curled so perfectly around each ball.

My pleasure came in waves, I would jack off and come close to cumming, but then she could always tell I was about to cum and she would tell me “hands off”, while she squeezed and firmly massaged my balls. The sensation is incredible, and not altogether bad, not at all. Another nice thing about it is that it can go on for a while, not to mention helping to practice control.

I was jacking off again, she really had an exquisite hold on my nuts that night, I couldn’t begin to describe the pleasure. She had gotten the idea that she had a good hold, and she wasn’t letting go until I came, and I wasn’t cumming until she was ready for me to.

Time after time I wanted to cum so bad, but she’d give a little squeeze and a sharp tug, “hands off!”, she’d say. Being her orgasmic ball puppet, I almost always obey at the first tug. After several cycles like this, I felt it cumming, “I’m gonna cum!”, I warned her. “Hands off!”, she said.

Still her ball puppet, I obeyed immediately, but I repeated myself, “I’m Gonna Cum!”. “Don’t you touch it!”, she demanded, and she cranked her hand down on my balls. I felt my balls compress in her hand, and I thought it was going to hurt, but it was unlike anything I felt before, and my dick started to spasm. Three times it shot great strings of skeet straight into the air.

When the fourth pulse of cum didn’t quite come on time, I finally grabbed dick again to help finish it off. She said, “Yes, that’s it, you jerk it off”, and she clasp her free hand over my masturbating hand, continued clamping my nuts, and make me jerk off just as hard and fast as I could while I finished my orgasm. It really blew my mind, and it was certainly the first time I’ve ever cum without anything touching my cock.

My wife was exceedingly proud of herself. We repeated it the next night, but we did cum to find out that it won’t always happen. Still, much of the time it will.

Chapter Two – LEATHER SHOELACE

If you haven’t read any of my previous stories, my wife and I are also into bondage and mutual anal sex. She likes me to tie her up and fuck her ass, but she also loves to ride me, siting in my lap with my dick in her ass, in front of a full length mirror.

Other nights she enjoys fucking my ass, sometimes bound, other times not. She has several strap on dildos, and she always enjoys buying a new one to break in. She also loves dildos and vibrators, we both love the new jelly toys. We use them all on each other in every way we can thing of.

This one night she said she felt like tying me up and surprising me. I was hoping she wanted to tie me up and fuck my ass again. The week before, she had tied me up and fucked my ass with a strap on called Betty’s Bumble Bee. The new nine inch jelly one that replaced the older eight inch latex one we used to use. The new one also take three C batteries instead of two AAs, so it was a real improvement if you ask me!

It has dual his-and-her’s vibrators built in, and it’s cheap. If you want you ass fucked, and good, I highly recommend bending over in front of a woman wearing one of these jewels!

The week before, she took a small twelve inch nylon leash, one that would fit the smallest puppy. After she securely tied me to the bar I hang from the ceiling over our bed, she brings out her little collar. She likes to grab my balls and hold them, gently working her fingers around the top of the sac, with my balls dangling below (actually, in this case above me).

Once she gets her fingers around the sac, she slips the collar around right at that point. Carefully she clinches the collar down, around, and over her fingers until it is gently but securely closing my sack down over my nuts. She continues to work it back and forth, gently tightening it down around my nuts. Finally, when it’s closed down to about the size of my thumb, she slips the buckle down and leaves me like that.

My balls look a little odd like this, the sac around my nuts is all stretched out and shiny, my nuts feel the constant pressure, the constant squeeze from having my nut sack tied down around them. She calls them her ball balloons, because of the ballooned-out appearance.

This ball bondage practice also developed over the years as she began her fascination with squeezing my balls. Often she likes to tie up my nuts when she wants to fuck my ass. She has found that my tied up nuts can often get slapped around when she really gives my ass a good workout.

This sounds horribly painful, and I always expect it to be when my ass is getting completely pounded and my tied nuts start slapping against us both. However, I think having the sac stretched so tightly around my nuts does a lot to protect them from painful injury, but instead allowsd me to feel much pleasure. However, as pleasurable as it is, each good nut slap still forces a good “OH!” out of me. Each gasp I let out only turns my wife on that much more. She fucks my ass just as hard as she can, she slaps my ass and insist I fuck her back just as hard as I can.

Often she fucks me doggy style like that, bent over the couch, until I’m absolutely fucked silly. Sometimes we’ll do it until I cum, other times I like to enjoy myself until she’s tired of fucking my ass. Then, I’ll eat her pussy and masturbate myself until she tells me we’re both ready for the big one. Then we’ll both cum together, she says I eat pussy furiously when I’m cumming. She tell me, the harder I cum, the more ravenously I eat her pussy.

But this particular night, she had bound me, and my nuts. I was laying on my back with my ass right on the edge of the bed. My feet were comfortably but securely bonded to a bar hanging about a foot and a half above me. She got out the vibrating, jelly butt plug and the lubricant. She playfully lubed up the plug, and then my ass, and worked it in, to my enjoyment.

All this time, my wrists are securely tied with my arms laying above my head. Nothing has yet touched my dick, but it stands at attention as the vibrator buzzes happily in my ass. My wife produces a new package of pony tail holders, let me describe these. They are almost yarn like, as big around as your pinky. This very elastic yarn is formed into a complete circle, like a rubber band. It is woven with elastic bands and is very rubber band like.

She stretches one out, over my balls, and down around the dog collar. Another and another she applies, each one forming another little band going closer to my bulging nuts. As she fully releases each one and my nuts feel the ever increasing pressure squeezing down on them, she delights to see my cock spasm independent of any direct contact.

“I want to see you cum without either of us touching your cock, balls, or ass. You’ll just have the butt plug and pony tail holders for stimulation, and you’ll cum when I’ll tell you to.”, she tells me. “I’m not sure if I can do that…”, I started, “You’ll cum when I tell you to”, she repeated.

“Let me tell you how these are going to work”, she explained, as she slipped another pony tail holder over my nuts. “Each time I add another holder, the rows of holders get closer to your nuts. Each holder has to get stretched bigger around as the rows go down. The more they are stretched, the tighter they are going to squeeze your nuts. You’ll cum, or I’ll completely wrap your nuts with these bands, and the second row will squeeze them all the tighter.”

Just the thought of it, at the same time as she applied another band, made my dick spasm in delight, but I still didn’t feel anything like I might cum. I was a little worried of what would happen if I couldn’t cum, but everything felt so wonderful at the moment that I wasn’t exactly consumed in worry.

Finally she had turned my nuts into a multi-colored cone. All the way up to the thickest part of my nuts was wrapped in closely spaced pony tail holders. It looked as if she put on even one more, it would just roll off the end. My balls jut out the end, so very tightly packaged in their own sac.

“Now I’m going to sit on your face, neither of us are going to touch your dick or balls, and when I tell you to, you’re going to cum”, she informed me as she climbed up on the bed. She stopped and pulled something from under the pillow, and opened a package of leather shoelaces. She mounted my head, facing towards my dick.

I was sure she was going to tie my dick up and then use the shoelace to jerk me off with until I came. She had gotten turned on while binding me, and now she sank her pussy fully down on my mouth. I took her clit into my mouth and worked it with my tongue. Her juices flowed into me and a hot flush of passion crossed my body, I’m so fully turned on by giving her oral sex.

Just as my body felt completely flushed, the leather shoelace landed it’s first lash across my exposed nuts. I was so stunned, before I even knew if it hurt or not, another lash wrapped around my throbbing cock. Another lash across my nuts and I felt it all start to sting, but it felt so incredible!

This incredible feeling made me eat her pussy with a fury, and she was very proud of herself and enjoying her oral delight. She came, and her pussy flowed down on my face, completely turning me on. She continued finding new, virgin areas of my dick and balls to stripe with the shoelace. Her juices continued to flow, and soon I was so turned on I could feel it building.

The only contact my dick and balls had was pony tail holders and a whipping leather shoelace, but the stirring of an orgasm began in my glands. I groaned three times at her quickly, to let he know I was going to cum. “No, don’t cum yet”, she said, “I want to cum more”. She quit whipping me at once, and I made the orgasm subside.

“I just came so hard, whipping your dick to make you eat my pussy! Can you do it again?” She asked, another stroke across my balls, then quickly another that wrapped around the ridge of my penis, “Can you make me cum like that some more?”. My mouth has already answered her, her whippings were replied with the best oral sex I could give.

Then she came really, really hard, and she went a little off the deep end. She rained down one stroke after another, covering my dick and balls from every angle. It was stinging like hell, but I only wanted to cum like a muther fucker.

She got really loud and started riding my face. She alternated from shoving her swollen clit into my mouth for tongue-work, to rubbing her soaked pussy up and down across my face. to allowing me to tongue-fuck her hole and suck her lips.

Nearly shouting, she demands, “Yes! Yes! Eat my pussy! I’m cumming so hard, oh I’m coming! Yes! Yes! Let me beat your dick, don’t cum yet, let me keep whipping your dick! Ah, Yes! I’m cumming so hard, let me whip your dick! Eat my pussy or I’ll never stop whipping your dick”

She didn’t mention my nuts, but she wasn’t forgetting them with the shoelace. They were throbbing with sting-lines, and so was my dick. It stung so much, but I was truly getting off, eating her pussy was so erotic (and wet), and she was enjoying herself so much I could only think to myself “Yes, whip my cock, whip my nuts until I’ve made you cum all you want.”

Even so, after a while it seemed to go on and on, all the pleasure and pain made me dizzy, but she seemed to cum the entire time. At least, she moaned and hollered the whole time, she rode my face like a latin dancing girl, and she continued to whip me, non-stop.

Finally, she cried out, “Here it comes, I’m really going to cum, now you cum too! I want to whip you while you cum, and I’m going to be sitting on your face when you do! Eat Me! EAT ME!”

She picked up the second shoelace in her other hand and started giving me alternating lashes from each hand. She wasn’t being careful at all anymore, she was just whipping my genitals in an orgasmic rage. I believed she thought if she could just beat them harder and faster, I could eat her pussy harder and faster. I did everything I could to comply.

I thought about what this scene would look like if video taped, so I could play it back later. The thought of seeing her mounted up there, whipping my balls with delight, making sure she’s getting the very best oral sex I can possibly give to her. She’s so turned on whipping my dick, riding my face, now demanding I cum while she whips me with all her might.

Through all the stinging, my cock started throbbing. The constant lashings were felt like new again as my dick throbbed and throbbed, finally pumping out my overdue load. She came with absolute delight, much to my disbelief her pussy got EVEN wetter. She didn’t completely stop whipping my dick when my orgasm was over; not until a few more moments later when her orgasm ended.

My genitals felt like there were being microwaved, but my wife only took a couple minutes to recover and she wrapped a cold, wet washcloth around my stuff. It was very cooling, but certainly a shock when first applied. I thought I was going to be untied, but she went off into the bathroom without a word.

I was still completely bound, even my nuts were still tied up like a cone. She was only in the bathroom a few moments, I lifted my head to see her when she came out and stood over me at the edge of the bed. She was wearing her Betty’s Bumblebee nine inch strap on dildo, and it was greasy.

She had an mischievous grin on her face as she reached to pull out my butt plug. “You’ve been such a good boy tonight, now about that ass…”

Originally posted 2013-01-05 06:04:59.

Shoelace CBT
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

She bent him over it and attached his cuffs. She quietly said, “That was very good, I am pleased.” Then she went to the wall to choose her instrument. Without the blindfold, he had a chance to look around the room. To try and guess who his tormentors were. There were a number of people dressed, and many naked – both men and women. Most looked as if they were having a good time, interested in what they were watching.

She came back now, in her hand was a small rectangular wooden paddle. He was glad it wasn’t the Ping-Pong paddle. He remembered that, and the memory wasn’t pleasant. This looked a lot like his mothers hairbrush. He smiled, this shouldn’t be too bad.

She leaned over him and reminded him of his safewords, something that he had totally forgotten when he was being tickle-tortured earlier. He assured her that he remembered them.

“OK, how many was it to be?” she asked loudly?

“Twenty ma’am.”

“Good, you will count them and thank me, then ask for another. Now remember punishment spankings are supposed to hurt. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he replied with only a moment of hesitation. He heard her walk around behind him and it started. The first blow landed and stung more than he had imagined, but he managed to count it out loud and to thank her. Asking for another was more difficult than he had imagined. By the time they were at 10, she had steadily increased the intensity of the swats and it was as much as he could do to not scream each time the paddle landed. He would choke out the count, thank her and then try to gather his courage to ask for another. By 15, he was openly crying and the color of his ass was a flaming red. By 18, he was sobbing and begging her for mercy. By 19 he needed to be reminded to count or there would be extra strokes assigned. He managed to thank her for the last stroke before he wrapped himself in his misery and sobbed from the pain.

Then she was holding him and he sobbed out his apologies for disobeying her. She told him that he had taken his punishment well and that she was proud of him. She dried his eyes and wiped his nose. He realized he must look terrible. When his eyes could focus again, he realized a young man, about his age, maybe a bit older, wearing only a leather collar around his neck was kneeling next to her. She left to dispose of the tissues after giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Feeling better? I hate that paddle, it stings more than just about anything. She looks like she packs quite a wallop. I am Brad, by the way”

“Yes, thanks. I always look at what she chooses and think, that little thing, well, that won’t hurt. I have to quit thinking that. I am not going to be able sit down for a week!”

“You will probably bruise as well. At least she didn’t use the tawse, that one always raises welts AND bruises on me.” And with that thought the young man gave a quiet sigh. “But then I try very hard to never do anything that warrants that. But occasionally Master is in the mood. She asked me to set you up for the next part, I will be blindfolding and gagging you.”

The look of horror on his face must have be striking since the boy chuckled and said, “no, it won’t be bad. You have had your punishment and they always like to finish the new ones on a good note.” With that, he put the blindfold back on and then fitted him with a small ball gag, not big enough to stretch his mouth out of shape, just to fill it. He felt his wrist and ankle cuffs being retightened, he had obviously moved enough to introduce a bit of slack in his restraints.

She had returned and was stroking him, soothing him.

“OK Brad, he is all yours.”

Then he felt soft hands on his ass, soothing the burning, then butterfly kisses across both cheeks. He began screaming “No! No Stop!” but because of the gag nothing intelligent came out. He struggled but he had been tightened down well.

“Shh, he is being rewarded for helping you be a good boy, he isn’t going to do anything I haven’t already done.”

He felt someone move into position under him and begin licking the shaft of his cock, fondling him, playing with his balls. He had been wanting that all evening. But not this way, not by another guy. He wanted to shrink up inside of himself, to make it harder for Brad to even find his cock, but as in so many cases before, his body betrayed him. He felt himself responding to the gentle touches and kisses and become hard. He felt himself encased in a condom, and then he finally got what he had wished for earlier, the mouth took all of him. His protests finally quieted and he began to whimper, for Brad was very good at what he was doing.

He found himself trying to push himself forward, but it was impossible, restrained as he was. The mouth and tongue began to tease him, soon he was moaning in frustration as he was brought to the edge and then abandoned. Too soon, he felt the warmth of the mouth and tongue leaving him. He whimpered piteously. Then he felt the coolness between his cheeks. The whimpering increased, he was begging her not to do this, not to take him in public like this. Soon fingers were invading him, then his body betrayed him again. He felt the invader pressed against him, and he wanted it, he wanted it filling him. He pushed backwards. This time it was larger, but slowly he took it. There were the occasional twitches of discomfort as he stretched to accommodate him, but they were minor and there was no pain. Then the stroking began. This time it was more gentle than when she took him, but also more insistent and there was no stroking hands on his cock for his pleasure. He didn’t care. The sensation was intense. Their thighs slapped together then he heard the urgent, “Master, may I cum!?”

She whispered, “You may as well.”

Then with a couple of hard, deep thrusts he felt Brad twitching and pulsing inside of him and he came as well spurting again and again until he knew he had no more to give. He vaguely felt someone leaning across his back as they struggled to catch their breath. He felt quiet tears running down his cheeks. He had been publicly raped by another guy and he had enjoyed it. That was the very worst part, he had enjoyed it!

“Did my pet enjoy that? You see my dear, it doesn’t really matter who is doing the taking, you want it and enjoy it just the same. And really, it doesn’t matter that you enjoy it, for I enjoyed watching him take you. And you are here for my enjoyment, not yours.”

“Brad, when you are recovered, release him and you may both clean up. Fit him with a harness and the large plug, he should be big enough for that one to only stretch him a bit. We need to start getting him ready for your Master. Pet, come and sit next to me when you are clean.”

Originally posted 2010-12-01 14:48:02.

Ms Strict 10
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

I was awaken by the smell of freshly made coffee. The fair Quel silently put a cup on my bedside table.

“Good morning, Mistress.”

“Good morning Quel, how was your night?”

“Restful, Mistress”

“Good, has the mail arrived?”

“Yes Mistress, the mail and the newspaper lies on the tray. But there was a gift which I couldn’t bring here Mistress”

“Oh, what kind of gift?”

“A slave, Mistress.”

“A slave? Is there a letter with the slave?”

“Yes Mistress, here…”

I read the letter:

“Elisabeth, I have decided to travel and to get rid of the things I can’t bring. I know you have had your eyes on Jamie and that’s why I give him to you. If you don’t want him, you can always sell him. I’ll call you later.

Don’t miss me too much, Sanna”

“Bring me my robe, and then bring in the slave Quel”

I put on the robe and sit up in the bed.

There is a knock on the door, and I say: “Come in”.

A young man enter the room and assumes a humble slave position.

“Welcome Jamie, do you know why you are here?” “Yes Mistress Elisabeth” “Good, then no lengthy explanations are needed. I recall that Sanna usually didn’t dress you the way you are dressed right now.”

“No Mistress.”

I move to the edge of the bed and motion Jamie to approach me.

“Stand in front of me, slave. Now then, lets see if I want to keep you.”

“Yes Mistress.”

With his hands on his back, legs somewhat apart, head held high but his eyes facing the floor, a young man now awaits my orders.

On his upper body he is wearing a jean waistcoat with a white T-shirt underneath.

I motion him to turn around.

“Bend over.”

The tight jeans reveals two round firm buttocks.

“Come closer, boy.”

I put my hand on one of his buttocks, I move the hand in between his legs and fells the front of his groin.

“It can’t be nice to be restrained, slave. It’s hot in here, undress.” “Yes Mistress.”

Jamie quickly catches a glance of Quel and then of me.

“I mean today, slave! Your hesitation has just earned you your first punishment, is that understood?”

He quickly lowers his glance and removes his waistcoat.

Whispering:

“Yes Mistress.”

“We will take care of your punishment shortly, first you will undress.”

Jamie folds his waistcoat and then moves on to the T-shirt. His upper body is tanned and fit.

“Stop, come closer.”

I get up and put my hands on his breast. Caresses his stomach. I grab the right nipple, and pull it upwards in such a way that he has to stand on his toes, but not a sound escapes his lips.

“Very promising, continue.”

He removes the jeans and again assumes the humble slave position.

“Very good, slave. That’s the way I am used to see you. However, here only my word counts… and when I tell you to get undressed I mean everything!”

“Everything, Mistress?”

“Slave, your hesitation will only make your punishment worse.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Blushing, he removes this two sizes too small string shorts and puts them on top of the jeans.

When he assumes the position he puts his hands in front of his groin.

“Jamie, hasn’t Sanna taught you that you shouldn’t hide anything from your Mistress?”

I slap his hands with my right hand.

“Keep these away, slave!”

“Quel, come here and give Jamie a hard on.”

Silently, Quel approaches Jamie and stands behind him with her arms around him. Steadily she starts to masturbate the cock. Once the cock is fully erected, she removes her hands. The cock stands firmly, although somewhat at an angle towards the stomach.

“Good, very good.”

I grab the erected cock firmly with my hand and lead him to the bathroom. At the door, I turn to Quel.

“Prepare for a punishment session in the bedroom.”

“Yes, Mistress”, Quel replies.

“First I will take a shower, and then I will make sure that you are completely clean.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

After the shower, I get an enema bag, a hose and a large nozzle from the bathroom closet. I attach the hose to the nozzle.

“Jamie, on your knees. Elbows on the floor, head down, and your butt high.”

Jamie assume the position. Meanwhile I fill the enema bag with soap and water and put it on a hanger. With a finger, I carefully open his anus.

“Did Sanna use to give you enemas, slave?”

“No Mistress, my first owner did it sometimes though.”

“Good, then you know what to expect.”

After lubicating the nozzle I slowly inserted it in Jamie’s anus.

“Today I’ll give you the enema, but in the future you will have to ask some of the other slaves to help you. In order to keep nice and clean slave, you need to take an enema at least every other day.

Somewhat troubled, Jamie reply:

“Yes Mistress.”

I opened the valve and let the enema flow, filling the slave. With one hand I touched his stomach to feel the flow. Once the enema bag was empty, I removed the nozzle.

“Now I want you to keep the enema inside you for a while in order to give soap some time to have an effect.”

Soothingly I caress his back, and when he is about to give up I motion him to the toilet to relieve himself. Blushing, he does what he is told, and meanwhile he gives up sigh of relief. Smiling I give him a look of encouragement.

“Wipe yourself dry and assume the position again, slave.”

I repeat the procedure two times more before I tell him to hit the shower. I observe him while he showers, and when I decided that he was clean we return to the bedroom.

Quel has placed a chair in the middle of the floor. On the table she has put a number of different whips, a wide leather belt, a paddle, a large hairbrush, and a bowl with small weights and clips.

I see that Jamie glances toward the table. I place myself on the chair.

“Well Jamie, lie across my lap.”

After some adjustment I sit still for a while. I caress his buttocks, making them redish.

I say to Jamie:

“It is important to prepare the buttocks, preferably with some hand slapping. In this way the other instruments will have a better effect which results in better learning by the slave.”

Jamie lies silent, he breathe heavily, and waits.

I move my hand to his groin and is delighted to find that he once again has a hard on.

“For hesitation while undressing you will receive 12 lashes with the small riding crop. For questioning a direct order, you’ll get 4 lashes with the bamboo cane. For warming up, I’ll start with 30 slaps with my hand followed by 30 strokes with the hairbrush. You will then have a short break, during which you will stand in the corner. Then you will get the lashes with the riding crop. A new break in the corner, and finally the caning. Have you understood?”

“Yes Mistress.”

Without further delay, I start with the slapping. Two fast slaps on each buttock. I pause to let the pain have effect in the mind of the slave. I continue with the slapping at an even pace. At the 15th stroke he starts moving.

“Quel, grab the slave’s feet.”

Quel quickly obeys and I continue. Jamie starts moaning after each stroke. I distribute the strokes evenly over his buttocks which now begins to change color from pink to red. At the 30th stroke he moans unstopable.

“Quel, give me the hairbrush.”

I take the hairbrush and caresses Jamie’s back while I split my legs. Jamie’s cock now hangs freely between my legs.

“Quel, lie under the chair and blow him while I finish the first part of the punishment. Jamie, you better make sure that you don’t come. That would be unwise.”

Both reply in one voice:

“Yes Mistress!”

The hairbrush made some parts of the buttocks change color from red to purple. Jamie had stopped moaning, he was crying now. The crying eventually passed into sobbing. I tell Quel to move away while I help Jamie to stand up. I embrace him.

“There, there… cry it out. It is OK, Jamie.

After a while, Jamie has calmed down and a gently place him in the corner.

“Come Quel.”

I crawl up in bed, lean against the wall with my legs wide apart. Quel crawls after and places her head in between my legs aware of what I want her to do. Her tounge swiftly moves over my clitoris while a finger caresses my inner labia. I press her head against my cunt and she nibbles on my clit. Then she inserts two fingers in my vagina and carefully finger fuck me. My breahing is heavy, my body shakes. When Quel realizes what is about to happen she increases the pace with the fingers, she opens her mouth and puts it against my cunt. As I come, she eagerly swallows my juices, wasting nothing. Exhausted I relax.

Quel gets some warm water, a cloth, and some soap and starts washing me. I look toward Jamie and admire my work. He looks really handsome despite his sobbing posture.

After some rest, a change of clothes, and a cup of coffee I felt like it was about time to start with the punishment.

“Jamie, come here.”

With his head down he slowly appoaches me. About his wrists I attach a pair of handcuffs. The cuffs are attached to a long chain.

“Quel, take the chair and fasten the chain to the hook in the ceiling.

When securely fastened to the ceiling I took a leg spreader and put it between his ankles.

“Jamie, it is OK to scream and cry. It helps you to get rid of stress and it teaches you that stupidity has a consequence here.”

“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.”

I then took the riding crop… aimed at the region where the legs meet the buttocks. Took a step back and started lashing him. After the first stroke, Jamie gave up a howling sound. Jamie was really pulling the chain. Fortunately, the hook was securely fastened to the ceiling. Otherwise it probably would have come out from the strain.

After 6 lashes, his buttocks was striped as a zebra. The remaining 6 lashes was placed at an angle from the first 6, thus providing an nice cross wise pattern. After the last lash, Jamie had turned into a crying, snuffeling, pleading slave.

I noticed that Quel started getting excited and in need of some attention. I therefore tell her to unhook Jamie from the ceiling. I tell Jamie to lie down on the bed. Still wearing the leg spreader, this position makes Jamie’s anus very accessible once he leans forward. His body is trembling and he begs:

“Please Mistress, no more…”

“Jamie, I decide when you have had enough. You have put yourself in this position and I expect you to thankfully receive the punishment you have earned.”

“Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress, but I am in such pain…” sob.

“Well, that’s the point with punishments slave… You won’t get the last lashes right now, Quel will enjoy herself first.” “Quel, put on the double dildo.”

Quel inserts one end of the dildo in her vagina, the other end pointing straight out. Anxiously she glances at me.

“Quel, please fuck Jamie. Mastubate him meanwhile, and make sure you both come at the same time.”

“Yes Mistress.”

When Quel, after some effort and a lot of moaning from Jamie, finally had inserted the dildo in Jamie’s anus I picked up a long riding crop and started whiping Quel’s butttocks at the same pace as she was fucking Jamie. When Jamie had shot a large load of cum in my bed and Quel was resting on top of Jamie. I lighted a cigarette and sat down to study them.

“Quel, set Jamie free and hit the shower, both of you.”

“Yes Mistress.”

As I looked at the watch, I realized that this nice session had taken all morning. I better finish it before lunch, I thought to myself. You’ll never know how the rest of the day will turn out, but I doubt it will be boring.

The slaves returned to the room after the shower.

“Jamie, assume the position you had when you were fucked. Let’s finish the punishment and then we can eat lunch.

Once again he was standing with his head facing the bed and his buttocks high.

I grabbed the bamboo cane which was a little thicker than a finger.

“I want you to count the lashes out loud, Jamie. If you miss a lash it won’t count, understood?”

“Yes Mistress.”

I raise the cane, aim and strike. A white stripe immediately appears, quickly changing to red.

“One Mistress!”

“Two”

“Three”

The fourth, and final lash I put some power into. Unfortunately, it hits one of the earlier stripes. Jamie yells, but somehow manages to produce the fourth count.

I embrace him and ask him to lie down on the bed.

“No. please Mistress. No more..” he says sobbing.

“Relax Jamie, I am just going to apply some soothing ointment. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

“Thank you Mistress.”

Originally posted 2012-06-16 12:28:10.

Mistress’ New Male Slave
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

I called ahead and told you how I wanted you when I got home from work. You’re to be naked, wearing your collar with the leash attached. You were a little confused by my tone – I was brusque with you. When you asked me what was up, I said “Just do it, Alan” almost in a snarl.

You hear my car pull up and you go to the door, as I told you to do. When I come in you look at me expectantly. I look you over, my eyes hard. I hand you my purse and coat and go sit in my armchair. You put the purse and coat away and come over to stand beside me. “Down” I say, pointing to the floor in front of me. You drop to your knees.

“Take off my shoes and rub my feet,” I order you, leaning back in the chair. You hurry to comply. While you are rubbing my feet, I tell you about my day. “I’ve just had the wildest day,” I tell you, “Phone ringing all day, problems all over the place, arguing with vendors… A completely frustrating day. I’m wound about as tight as I can get.”

“Anything I can do?” you ask.

A nasty smile plays over my lips. “I’m so glad you asked…”

I kiss you long and hard, pressing my body up against you, then strap the ballgag around your head and move over to the toy rack. There are spreader bars between your ankles and between your wrists, your arms held over your head by the rope over the rafter. I come back to where you are tied, suede whip in my hand. My face is grim, determined, my eyes seem to look through you.

I hold the whip up for you to hang on to for me while I gather my hair back into a ponytail. Your eyes get wide – I only do this when I’m serious. I take the whip from you and look at you… slowly walking around to stand behind you. You feel my head on your back – my cheek pressed against your shoulder, hands pressed to your sides. A few deep breaths and I move away.

Thwack!

The suede tails hit your buttocks. Noticeably harder than my usual warm-up stroke. I cover your back and bottom with strokes of the whip until they are warm and pink. My hand runs over your back, caressing the faint stripes.

I walk around and look at your face. Your eyes look at me, hungry and wondering. I stroke your face and go take the blindfold off the rack. I don’t want your heart right now, I want your body, and I can see your heart in your eyes.

You wince as the whip hits your chest. You’re not used to me flogging your front side – it has taken you by surprise. The whip covers the front of your body from your chest to your thighs, making you jump when it hits your tender nipples.

I leave you briefly to go back to the toy rack. When I come back to you, my hand wraps around your sack. I pull hard, biting your neck to hear you moan and feel you struggle. A second after I move away you feel the leather strap hitting your chest. I cover your body with slaps from the strap, red imprints appear on your fleshy parts where I’ve hit you hard.

When I get back from the next trip to the toy rack, you hear a swish in the air. I’ve only used the cane on you once before, and very lightly.

“I’m going to take the gag out,” I whisper in your ear. “Don’t talk. Don’t say a word. Understand?”

You nod, and I remove the gag. You stretch your jaw, but say nothing.

The cane strikes your buttocks and you gasp. It lands again, this time on your thighs.

I strike your legs and bottom, harder and harder until you cry out, then back off slightly and continue covering your bottom and thighs with welts from the cane.

We’ve both had enough.

I remove your blindfold, remove the bars and cuffs from your ankles and wrists. We sink to the thickly padded floor and curl up in each others arms, holding each other tight.

“Thank you….” I whisper.

Originally posted 2010-05-24 13:11:33.

His Whipping
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

Straining against their leather and stainless steel prison, his balls, over full from days of torment, hang like ripe fruit. The testicle cage is a clever and relentless form of bondage…a leather-lined metal device that when locked in place is impossible to remove. First, around the base of the testicles squeezing them tightly. Then, up the middle, separating and further squeezing them, all topped off with a tiny padlock. A “D” ring hangs from the middle from which a much bigger padlock and heavy gauge chain are then attached. The whole assembly weighs several pounds and pulls down on his swollen, purple balls.

In the past, she has chained his balls to all sorts of things…pulled behind him and up his crack locked to the closet pole, forcing him to stand on his tip-toes…chained to his ankles or wrists… or locked to the pipes in the basement. Tonight, however, she has something else in mind. She removes from his ass the butt plug that has been in there for the past several hours. It is her largest one and has been working up to it all week. She then whispers her plan to him as he starts to sob and cry through the ball gag in his mouth.

She goes to the foot of the bed, a great big wooden antique from the Victorian era with stout posts at every corner capped by large wooden acorn shaped ornaments. She reaches under the bed and produces a large tub of lubricant and begins to coat the top of one of the bed posts with it. He sobs louder now and is also becoming erect thinking of what’s coming next.

She leads him to the foot of the bed. The bed post comes up to about his navel. She instructs him to sit on the top of the bed post until the huge wooden acorn is completely submerged in his ass. This is not easy as he must stand on his tip-toes to sit on top or the bed post. The wooden post is so big that the first few attempts results in him slipping off, but finally, after about ten minutes or so, she guides him down as the massive wooden “head” bottoms out and all his weight rests on the post deep inside him.

She then takes the free end of the chain hanging from his plum colored balls and pulls down firmly, looping it around the foot of the bed and locking it in place. Now, if he tries to rise up , his balls are yanked tight, preventing him from leaving his tormented position.

And so he stays… ball gag, posture collar, corset and arm binders, with his balls chained to the floor and a massive unmoving wooden bed post up his ass. She strokes his cock, masturbating him nearly to the point of release, only to stop again like countless times before.

Kissing the head of his cock, she tugs on his ball chain making him flinch. “Sleep tight sweety” she says as she turns off the lights and closes the door, locking it behind her.

Originally posted 2008-03-04 07:01:15.

Testicle Torture
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

For all you people that think that I should have ran out of there pronto, you
don’t know the half of it. Instead of course I found myself on the couch
making out with Aeysha and feeling up her hot body, which was encased in
stylishly form fitting blue jeans and one of those tight black lycra shirts
that showed off her highset medium size breasts and flat abdomen. She was
aggressive in her kissing (everything Carmen was not), and I found myself
fighting for control of her hungry mouth. She ran her hands all over my body,
groping me as voraciously as I was groping her. I was getting extremely turned
on. This was going to be one hot, intense sex session.

“Yes baby. Take off your pants. Let me see that cock.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. As soon as I stripped down, she was on my
cock like a bitch in heat, sucking, fondling and then easily throating my 8
inches. It was wild. No girl had ever deepthroated me, and this girl was
doing it like a pro. I pride myself on having good stamina, but when this
bitch started fondling and lightly squeezing my balls with my cock lodged in
her tight throat, I was on the edge of cumming. She sensed this, stopped,
stood up and maneuvered herself behind me.

She cooed very nasty words into my ear and lifted my shirt clean off over my
head in one motion, leaving me entirely naked. I could feel her erect nipples
through her shirt rubbing against my back. She reached around with her arms
and grabbed my nipples and squeezed them both. I began to wonder how I allowed
myself to be stripped without doing the same to her. I was startled from these
daydreams when she slid her body down mine, grabbed my erect cock and stroked
it while pushing her tongue into my asshole. This girl was turning out to be
one nasty slut, driving me crazy with her hands and mouth at the same time.
Just as I was about to shoot, she stopped again. She grabbed my hair with
authority and pushed two fingers firmly into my ass before I knew what she was
doing.

“Hey…ow!”
“Hey what boy?”
“Jesus Aeysha stop it!”
“Listen to me fuckwad. If I take these fingers out of your ass, you go right
out the door now and your clothes go into the fireplace. Do you understand.”
“Yes”
“Do you want me to take my fingers out?
“Yes…I mean NO.”
“Good. Bitch. Have you ever been fucked by a girl?
“I’m not a virgin.”
“I didn’t ask that. I asked if you’ve ever been fucked by a girl. Like I’m
fucking you now.”
“No.”
“Then you are a fucking virgin. I love little virgin bitchboys.”

(Continued … )

Originally posted 2009-03-17 12:48:29.

My Cruel Bitch Ruler II
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs

Ninety Minutes of F/m Corporal Punishment

I look at the clock.

You should have been here an hour ago.

Lord knows, I am not the patient sort.

Before you left this morning, you were given a sound spanking with my hand, a bit of a reminder of what to expect when you got home. You were just a bit too mouthy this morning.

Now, you’re late.

You know better.

I don’t care if it’s work, traffic, or an act of God, you know that when you’re in trouble, you’d better be home on time.

I look at the phone. It doesn’t ring.

I lay down on the couch, and take a nap.

When I get this upset, it’s better that I just sleep.

You knew not to be late tonight.

You open the door, and see me sleeping. You know that if I wasn’t

thoroughly ticked off, I wouldn’t be sleeping.

You almost hope that I will sleep all night, and forget that I promised you a *real* spanking.

Real, meaning tears, sobbing, apologies, and quiet time in the corner afterwards.

A spanking that’s going to leave you sore, sorry, and sitting uncomfortably tomorrow.

You aren’t looking forward to this, but you know that you deserve it.

Laying on the table beside the couch is only one implement.

My bathbrush.

You’d love to take that brush and hide it right now.

You know I’m not a sound sleeper, and you doubt whether I’m actually asleep.

You kneel down on the floor in front of me, and touch my forehead. You know that I will enjoy waking up, and seeing you on your knees.

I have no idea how long I’ve slept, so I turn and look at the clock.

Almost an hour and a half late.

I look at you, and you look down.

I’m sorry, Ma’am.

I take your chin, and lift your head, forcing you to look at me.

I am going to make you sorry.

Strip.

You stand, and begin to disrobe.

I sit up.

You fold your clothes neatly, and lay them on the chair.

Your hands are at your side, but you feel like they should be protecting your bottom. Sometimes, you ache to be spanked by me. You do *like* being spanked. You know that you are not going to like this spanking.

You’re not aching right now.

When I punish you, its very real, and it hurts.

and I am going to punish you.

Oh how those words get to you.

You look at the brush laying on the table.

You hope that you’ll at least be able to feel my hand before I start with the brush.

I walk into the kitchen and come back with the timer.

You were what, about 90 minutes late?

We’re going to set the timer on 90 minutes, and when it rings, that will signal the end of your punishment.

You are not going to enjoy the next 90 minutes.

You look at the timer.

You look at the brush.

You look at me.

90 minutes seems like an eternity.

I set the timer.

I take your hand, pick up the brush and lead you to the back of the couch.

You really wish that you were over my lap.

I almost always take you over my lap first.

You know that you’re in trouble when you lay over the back of the couch.

I rest the brush on your bottom, and I wait.

Please spank me, Ma’am.

At least you answered quickly.

I swat you once, *hard* with the brush.

How many times should I spank you with the brush?

You have no idea how to answer this question.

You hesitate. I swat you harder.

As many times as you think I deserve, Ma’am.

Hmm.

Not a bad answer.

I’ll accept that.

In about two minutes, I give you 90 swats with the bathbrush. You’re having a horrible time staying in position, and it hurts.

Oh, does it hurt.

I don’t give you anything that resembles a warm-up.

I let you stand.

You want to rub your bottom.

You don’t dare.

Go to *your* room. Stand in the corner, and wait.

You look at me, but walk upstairs to the little boys room.

You know that I am upset, and that I’m not going to allow you into my< bedroom just yet.

I want you to wait, and worry.

I follow you upstairs, and I bring the timer with me.

You walk straight to the corner, and I go into the bathroom.

You wish you could hide.

90 minutes of spanking is more than you can take, and you worry about what else I could be planning.

I lay a wash cloth on the sink, and a unopened bar of soap.

I walk into my bedroom and set out a few implements.

I let you stand in the corner for a little while. The bathbrush was tough for you to take,and you have a lot more coming.

Your bottom needs a little bit of a break.

You know that I must be planning a severe spanking if I am allowing you to spend this much time in the corner.

I stick my head in your room, and tell you to come into the bathroom.

You walk out of the corner slowly.

Bathrooms terrify you.

You aren’t sure what to expect.

You’re almost relieved to just see soap.

You sit, and look down at the bathroom floor.

You aren’t a terrific fan of soap either, but figure that an enema might be worse.

I take your chin in my hand, and force you to look up at me.

Why are you in trouble right now?

Because I was late, Ma’am.

I slap you.

Hard.

You weren’t expecting it.

No. Try again.

You wish you could look down, but I make you look right at me.

Because I was misbehaving this morning.

I was being smart, and mouthy.

I slap you again. Ma’am?

I’m sorry, Ma’am.

Tears are forming in your eyes.

Why were you so late tonight?

I couldn’t leave work, then I got stuck in traffic.

Ma’am? I slap you again.

And you didn’t call?

No, Ma’am. I didn’t.

Do I need to tell you that you should have called?

No, Ma’am. I’m sorry.

I slap you again.

I watch as tears start to stream down your cheeks.

You wonder how much time is left on that timer.

Too much, you’re certain.

90 minutes is a long time. Especially when I have not one, but two valid reasons to be punishing you.

I hand you the bar of soap.

Unwrap it.

You do so, slowly.

Your eyes are sad. You’re sorry already.

But I’m going to make sure you’re sorry, and that you’re feeling the effects of this spanking for a day or so.

You try to hand me the bar of soap when you are done.

I don’t take it.

Put it in your mouth.

You look at the soap. You think about resisting.

But you know how much trouble you would be in if you did.

I notice the hesitation. You’re going to be tied soon anyway.

You put the soap in your mouth.

I leave the bathroom.

The soap is going to stay there for a little while.

I open my closet, take out your wrist cuffs, and a lock.

I walk back into the bathroom, and take the soap out of your mouth.

I offer you a drink.

Are you going to behave?

Yes, Ma’am.

You rinse your mouth out with water a few times, and I take your wrists. I

lock them behind your back.

You make a sound, almost like a whimper, as I lead you into my room.

I push you over the end of the bed.

You look up on the bed, and see a paddle, a crop, and a cane.

You close your eyes.

You don’t want caned.

and I know this.

I don’t really care what you want at this point.

I’m going to punish you until I’m satisfied that you are sorry, and until I know that you will be sore for awhile.

I walk back to my closet, and take out my blindfold, and a dildo.

I place the blindfold over your eyes, and the dildo in your mouth.

I position you so that I can paddle you, and give you a dozen *hard* swats.

You try hard to keep still, but it hurts. You feel like your bottom is on

fire. You start crying again, and wish that you could spit out that

dildo.

I lay the paddle down. You hear the snap of the cap on the lubricant I like to use. You whimper. I love that sound.

I spread your legs *wide.*

I insert the plug, quickly.

Painfully.

You cry out.

It’s hard for you to keep your legs spread, and harder for you to keep the plug in. You want to push it out.

You know that’s the worst thing you could do right now.

I pick up the cane.

Of course, you can’t see what I pick up, and it’s not until that slicing

pain across the top of your thighs hits that you realize I am holding a

cane.

Tears flow freely.

One stripe is enough.

You breathe a sigh of relief, then remember that the only thing left on the bed is the crop.

I begin my assault on your inner thighs, and I start hard, with no pause between the swats.

You’re soon sobbing. Bawling. You want to force the dildo out of your mouth, so that crying is a bit easier. You know that you can’t.

You want this to end.

It hurts so much, you wish you were unconsicous, and would just wake up when its over.

I don’t let up right away.

I slow down and bit, and make my swats harder.

I drop the crop, and take you by the hand. I sit down at the head of the bed, and pull you over my lap.

I let you cry for a little while.

I am going to spank you till that timer goes off.

You can’t see, and you really have no idea how much time you have left.

I look at it…and it says just over 25 minutes.

I take the dildo out of your mouth. I want to hear your cries, unmuffled.

I want you to be sorry.

I want to hear those apologies.

I want you to feel as if you’ve been punished.

You just rest your head on the bed, and wait.

I start spanking you hard, with my hand.

Normally a feeling you love, my hand hurts too much.

You don’t stop crying.

I am sorry, Ma’am.

Please, Ma’am.

Ma’am, it hurts!

Please, Ma’am! I want it to stop!

I spank you until you’ve stopped apologizing. I’m no longer upset, or angry.

I spank you until your head rests quietly on the bed, tears flowing freely beneath the blindfold.

Your bottom is red, tender, blazing hot.

My hand’s a bit red, too.

Timer goes off.

You hardly hear it. You’re off in your own world.

I stop spanking you, and let you just lay across my lap and finish crying.

You don’t want to get up.

I am sorry.

I rub your back. I remove your plug, and your blindfold.

I leave your cuffs on. I want you to stay in my control for a while.

Your bottom is toasted. You’ll behave the rest of tonight, though you may be standing through dinner.

I know.

I’m not angry now.

But you’re sore.

And you suspect that you will be for a couple of days.

Originally posted 2013-03-30 06:06:26.

Her Spanking WIll Make Him Very, Very Sorry for Being Late
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs