It was time for the second hour.
As I laid on my stomach, my legs were spread wide by a bar almost four feet long. I noted, ominously, that it had an eyebolt in its middle. The bar was pulled toward my shoulders, and my wrist-shackles were locked to the bar, again at its ends. I was blindfolded, then I heard the sound of something being snapped onto the bar at its middle. I shook in fear, anticipating pain soon to come.
It came soon indeed, as the bar was hoisted up. My wrists and ankles, spread by the four foot bar, held my weight. I screamed momentarily, until I felt the bar lowered again somewhat. She had placed a small footstool under my stomach, and it now supported half my weight.
I heard the sound of something being moved near my face. It might have been cushions, or a small piece of furniture; I couldn't tell. She said nothing. Soon though, I smelled an all-too-familiar odor, the odor of her pussy. I groaned in my frustration, knowing I would not be allowed to come this night. She laughed, but did nothing.
She watched T.V. Some minutes into the hour, I felt her hand in my hair as she spoke to me. "Just because you're under punishment, there's no reason you can't pleasure me at the same time. Lick!" She pulled my face down a few inches, by the hair, my body swaying down in its semi-suspension and forced my mouth onto her cunt. I licked, as her arousal quickly built. "Bring me off soon, cunt-licker, or do you want to lose your footstool?" I had had a brief taste of what full suspension would feel like in this position. Fearful, I redoubled my efforts and brought her to a full orgasm moments later. The performance was repeated several times before the hour ended.
To my horror, she again hoisted me up high, well off the stool, and left me there. I screamed openly, in agony, as the pain of my long-strained limbs was multiplied. A minute or two later, I was lowered to the floor.
She released all my limbs, allowing me a good fifteen minutes to stretch and loosen my muscles. She then ordered me to prepare a dinner of simple sandwiches. I served her food, leaving mine on the tray. I knew I was being baited--I had been prohibited from eating until my third punishment hour had been served. I did not fall for the trap.
For the final hour, she applied the stiff, leather discipline helmet. It locked on, and was followed by an almost redundant posture collar. A forearm sheath united my arms behind me, and a short knee-spreader completed the package. Then she spoke: "I'm going to change clothes. Your last hour begins when I return."
I knelt alone. It might have been an hour, for all I knew, but it was probably little more than fifteen or twenty minutes. This last restraint, mercifully, was nowhere near as severe as the preceding ordeals, but I reserved judgement. When she returned, I'd find out how much worse it could get.
She had changed into her leather merry widow. I knew from its smell of fresh leather, and from the straps she attached to my helmet. She got comfortable, then tightened the straps.
My mouth and nose were drawn forcefully into her cunt. I felt a light snap on my ass, probably from her quirt, and heard her simple command, one which was becoming more familiar each day: "Lick!"
I spent the next hour obeying that command. Occasionally, when my tongue tired, I would feel the quirt again. When she wanted a shift in my attentions, she would change her position, drawing my lips to her clitoris or vagina as she desired. When she came, I would drink down her juice and continue my efforts. She forced me to lick and suck constantly throughout the hour, as my spread knees grew sore and my arms slowly numbed. My cock, erect the entire time, was imprisoned in the chastity belt, and my butt plug was a constant reminder of my enslavement.
At the end of that last hour, she removed the helmet straps, but left the helmet itself locked on me. My knee-spreader was removed, but the forearm sheath remained in place.
She fed me my sandwiches through the mouth opening in the helmet. It was an exercise in my dependence on her as my vision was lost and I had no arms. Even with my legs now free, I would not dare to even rise to my feet without her firm hand on my leash to guide me. I was aroused, stiff and sore, thoroughly punished and fully compliant.
At bedtime, there was no conversation. My forearm sheath was removed and my wrists were locked to my posture collar. The helmet remained locked on all night. Although she did not gag me, she did close the mouth opening after I had serviced her for one final pleasure by mouth. Plugged, chastity-belted and cut off from the world, I was chained on the floor at the foot of her bed.
12/31
It was interesting that I was quickly becoming used to sleeping on the floor. Although my enforced chastity caused pain in my cock and balls, my body per se was enduring well.
Blinded by the leather discipline helmet, I awoke to the pressure of my Mistress' thighs around my head. I made to extend my tongue, then realized--she had not released the mouth opening in my helmet. I breathed her scent deeply, when I could get air, and felt her flesh through the leather, but I could not taste her.
She left me and used the john. Returning, she released my collar chain, brought me to my knees and moved my wrists to behind my back. She sat on the bed and, with a leash, drew me again to her cunt. This time, she opened the helmet to expose my mouth. Yes, this was a cleaning as well as a pleasuring--she had not used the toilet paper after her piss. I found, to my humiliation, I was becoming accustomed to that taste. Soon, it would arouse me as well. With a shudder, I recalled the piss drink at the restaurant. Yes, I was being trained thoroughly.
With her pussy cleaned and her orgasm imminent, she stopped and removed my discipline helmet. I was greeted by the sight of her open cunt at my face. I continued my labors and soon brought her to orgasm.
She released my chastity belt, removed my anal dildo and switched me into the cock cage. I recalled the fact that I would not be allowed an orgasm today, at least until the new year began at midnight. She forced me to clean the dildo by mouth, then she released all my restraints except for the cock cage. "Take your shower, slave, and make your morning abolutions. Then, report to the living room." She turned and swept out of the room.
I finished in the bathroom quickly. Unfortunately, I found no towels on the rack. For some reason, Mistress had obviously removed them. So I did my best to eliminate the excess water on my body with my bare hands, even squeezing my hair partially dry. I walked to just outside the living room door, then dropped to my knees and crawled in.
She was dressed in one of my favorite outfits. A red bikini top of thin, sheer, silky material barely covered her nipples while it presented her breasts to maximum advantage. Her panties, in the same diaphanous material, had a snap-on panel that could be removed to expose her cunt. She wore a garter belt, red lace stockings and her highest black patent leather opera pumps, with six inch heels.
She pointed to a towel spread out in the middle of the floor. I crawled to it and knelt upon it, still wet. Wordlessly, she fastened leather cuffs to my wrists. The cuffs were attached to opposite ends of a two foot long metal bar. She then lowered a rope from a winch directly above me and connected its end to the center of the bar. She hoisted me up until my heels left the floor. My toes still carried some of my weight. Finally, she deemed it proper to speak to me.
"We'll be having lots of fun today, and you'll be training and working hard. For the first item on the agenda, a lesson called, 'Appreciating the privilege of using a towel'. You must understand that you will not always be allowed to dry with a towel. Now, you will not be permitted to do so. You are going to drip-dry."
I hung by my wrists, alone. Mistress would periodically come and inspect me, feeling my arms and legs with her hands to check on my progress. Perhaps an hour into my bondage, she commented, "You're drying well, but you're still wet in your ass-crack. And your balls aren't getting enough air."
She went to the kitchen and returned a moment later with two large fruit juice cans. She stood them on the floor about four feet apart, on either side of me. She then went to the winch and cranked me up another six inches. I howled at the renewed pain in my already stretched arms and shoulders, until I realized Mistress' intentions. Straining, I located the cans with my toes and, stretching my legs to the limit, got some of my weight onto them. I noted that the edges of the cans dug painfully into my toes and would cause me increasing pain as time passed. "You should appreciate my mercy, slave. Now, your balls will dry much more quickly!"
I moaned deeply, but said, "Thank you, Mistress."
Now, I was indeed spread wide open. So wide, in fact, that I felt the interior of my asshole being subjected to the light drafts in the room. Still, it took another forty-five minutes to dry my flesh, and before my hair dried to Mistress' satisfaction, I had hung nearly three hours.
She released me and had me prepare a light brunch. We ate silently, with me kneeling at her feet, my wrists locked behind me, eating from a bowl on the floor like a dog. When we finished, she said, "I'm not in the mood to torture you at the moment. I'd just like to have you in view where I can enjoy watching you. Bring your cage in here, now!"
Several minutes later, I was locked in the cage. My wrists were rejoined behind me, and I was naked, kneeling on the floor of the cage. For reasons I would only learn later, she put my posture collar around my neck before locking me in. Soon, I found myself hoisted into the air again.
She sat down and read for awhile, perhaps half an hour. Soon, bored, she went into the bedroom and returned with some articles that caused me to shudder in fear.
She held two dildos. Both were an inch and a half in diameter and close to a foot long. Suddenly, my ass, wedged against one side of the cage, and my mouth, forced by the posture collar against the opposite side, both felt quite vulnerable.
She thrust one dildo into my mouth first. Perhaps three inches went past my lips, pushing against the back of my throat. She then took a rubber strap, one with hooks attached to either end, and knotted the middle of the strap around the base of the dildo. She then latched the hooks onto the bars of the cage. This had the effect of forcefully thrusting the dildo into my mouth. I quickly found that if I tried to push it out with my tongue, the straps would tighten and shove it back in again. The posture collar would keep me from turning my head to avoid it.
As I contemplated these difficulties, Mistress surprised me by thrusting the second dildo into my ass. Again, she used the strap to put tension on it, and I soon knew that it would penetrate me deeper over a period of time, slowly working its way in. My ordeal continued; Mistress returned to her reading.
I suffered. My muscles were cramped, and my knees ached where they rested on the bars of the floor of the cage. The dildo in my ass, while not painful, was stimulating me in a degrading fashion. Periodically, my ass muscles would contract, involuntarily, forcing the dildo out an inch or two. When my muscles relaxed, the rubber strap would instantly thrust it in again, deeper than before, almost like being fucked in the ass. Since the muscle contractions were regular, perhaps several times a minute, the counter-thrusts were also regular, and they soon had me becoming erect in my cock cage, torturing my cock, which had not had an orgasm for a day and a half.
Worse, the dildo in my mouth added to my humiliation, and through that, to my stimulation. When I would try to force it out to relieve the pressure on the back of my throat, it too was thrust back in, forcefully. I was pinned between two rubber cocks, being fucked by them at both ends, while my own real cock was tortured in its denial. Worst of all, my Mistress watched my humiliation, casually, looking up from her book every minute or two, smiling. I remained there at least an hour and a half before Mistress decided to make things still worse.
She left again and returned with a large candlestick. As she placed it on the floor beneath my cage, I noted that its tip was a bit over a foot below the cage bottom. Fearfully, I watched as she struck a match and lit it. In a few seconds, I felt its heat building under my balls and ass. In a few more seconds, I was in pain, and screamed, fearful of her intentions.
She took the cage by its corner and began slowly turning it. I felt the heat from the candle as it swept various parts of my body, my thighs, knees, chest and face. As I was turned, I noticed the rope supporting the cage being wound up and the cage rising a bit, perhaps two or three inches. She must have turned the cage almost thirty revolutions before she released it.
Slowly, the cage began rotating on its own, in the opposite direction, moved only by gravity. As it turned, I continued to feel the heat of the candle flame as various parts of my body passed over it.
The cage slowly picked up speed until it made a full turn in just over a second. Soon, it unwound the rope completely, and as it continued turning, started rewinding it in the opposite direction. It took several minutes for each cycle, winding the rope by inertia, then unwinding it again as gravity took hold. Each cycle, it made a couple turns less than the previous cycle, and it gradually lost speed.
As it slowed down, I became more conscious of the flame from the candle. As Mistress watched intently, I began reacting to the occasional pain now generated by the heat as it swept under my most sensitive areas. Adding to my pain was the action of the two dildos, which still forced their way into my mouth and ass, stimulating me as they humiliated me.
Eventually, the cage slowed to almost a stop. I began moaning with the pain from the heat, as it spent more and more time each sweep directly under my swollen balls.
"Getting a little warm, dear?"
I could only moan in desperation. My balls, filled with a day and a half's worth of come, ached badly, and the heat made it worse. I knew that I would not be allowed an orgasm until at least midnight, perhaps longer.
"Would a drink help cool you down?"
Again, I only moaned. Taking nothing for granted, I presumed she was concocting my next ordeal already.
To my horror, she left the room. The candle flame was currently roasting my lower legs, my ass cheeks and my balls. I knew in minutes the cage would be stopped altogether and my balls would be exposed to the heat continuously.
She returned as the cage stopped, and she put out the flame just as I began to scream around the dildo in my mouth. I couldn't quite see what she brought with her, but I knew it would not bode well for me.
She freed me from the dildos and from the cage. I knelt before her, and she switched my handouffs for the leather shackles which she joined with chains in front of me. Ankle shackles were added, with more chain, until I sported well over ten pounds of steel to keep me under control. I was then made to clean my anal dildo by mouth.
The posture collar was left on. Standing before me, she added an additional harness to my head, one I had not seen before. It included several leather straps and supported a metal arm with a hook at its end which projected several inches above the front of my face. She thrust another dildo into my mouth, using additional straps on the head harness to secure it. I suddenly realized, with some fear, that this was the dildo equipped with the feeder tube.
She sat and looked at me for awhile, considering. Then she said, "No. It looks good, but there's still something missing. She left the room and returned shortly with what would prove to be my uniform for the rest of the day.
She fixed me into the heavy-duty leather corset. She went through several stages of tightening it, until my back was stiff as a board and my lower torso was squeezed so badly I could hardly breathe. Garters hung from the bottom of the corset, and these were not left idle. Removing my ankle shackles, I was made to put on some red seamed stockings, lacy ones with a floral pattern.
I was then fitted with opera pumps, with six inch heels, matching the ones Mistress herself currently wore. I was still clumsy walking in them, but I would learn under the whip. The shoe locks were employed, and my chains reconnected to them. Mercifully, the tube from my cock gag was left hanging.
She took a pencil and paper and began drawing up a list of jobs for me to take care of. The list was long and would take the bulk of the day to finish.
"You'll remain dressed and restrained as you are until all the work is finished to my satisfaction. At the completion of each hour, I'll be adding something to your accessories to motivate you. Get to work!"
That was it. The list contained chores like laundry, dishes, cleaning several rooms, remaking her bed, polishing the living room furniture, even changing several sets of drapes. The first hour went very quickly, whereupon she installed a rather large dildo in my ass. Now I would be gently stroked as I walked, restimulating my already tortured cock in its cage. For the second hour, she attached a strap to my balls, tightening it severely. A chain hung down from the strap which supported a round metal ball, almost three inches in diameter, weighing a good six or eight pounds. It stretched my balls painfully as I moved, and its swinging renewed my pain constantly. Worse, I noticed as it bounced against my thighs, its circumference was ringed with short needles which would stick into me painfully each time it made contact. Now, I would learn to walk more gracefully.
At the third hour, she had me service her with my mouth. Just before she came, my anal dildo suddenly started vibrating! I groaned piteously as I licked her, and she came quickly, amused at my suffering. As I finished cleaning her, she quipped, "Next hour, you get the feeder bag, then it will be half a dozen with the cane each hour until you're done!"
I shuddered in fear. I still wasn't totally sure how she'd employ the bag, although I had suspicions. But the cane I knew well. I would be doing well to finish all the work in four hours, notwithstanding my handicaps. I would certainly be caned at least twice.
The drapes were changed, all the work in the bedroom was done, the bathroom was immaculate. The dishes and laundry were both taken care of. The next hour ended just as I finished waxing the kitchen floor and was about to start the living room.
She stood before me, holding the feeder bag. Without a word, she removed the panel from her panties, exposing her pussy inches away from my face. She held the bag beneath her and began pissing into it. In seconds, she finished, the bag full. Briefly, she removed my dildo gag and allowed me to clean her thoroughly with lips and tongue before replacing it. Smiling, she hung the bag from the hook on my head harness. Slowly, she connected the feeder gag tube to the valve at the bottom of the bag. She looked straight into my eyes as she opened the valve, watching as the first drops passed into the feed tube. We both waited, her standing before me as I knelt at her feet, until the piss made its slow journey down the tube to my gag.
I began to swallow her piss. Mistress watched the first few swallows, enjoying my facial expressions as I reacted to the acrid taste I would have to bear for the next few hours. I remained kneeling before her, humiliated, until she dismissed me.
The bag hung directly in front of my face. I would have to move cautiously to avoid dislodging it from its hook; damaging the bag setup, or spilling its contents would most certainly earn much more severe punishments. With the bag partially obstructing my vision, it would make my movements even more difficult, notwithstanding my anal dildo, chains, the spiked ball and my six inch heels.
It took close to an hour to polish all the living room furniture, and I still had to do the rugs and wax the hardwood floors. The instant that hour ended, Mistress summoned me to the bedroom. She was well-prepared.
My ankle chain was temporarily removed, and my ankles were spread wide to the bed's footposts and locked in place. There was a stack of pillows at the bottom of the bed; I draped myself over them and extended my wrists high toward the head of the bed where Mistress locked them with a chain connected to the headboard.
Having satisfactorily secured me for punishment, she quickly took position at my ass, brandishing the cane. She said nothing, but just smiled as I looked back at her in fear. I was still gagged, and my feeder bag still hung from its hook. I would again have to be cautious to avoid an accident with the bag.
The cane struck, hard. I screamed around my gag as my entire body flexed with the pain. The second stroke followed soon after--this was a true punishment, not an exercise in my submission, so she did not allow me time to adjust to the pain load. The entire half dozen took less than a minute. I screamed throughout, was in tears when it finished, and I was required to resume my duties immediately.
The drapes took over half an hour. Already, I knew myself condemned to receive the second half dozen. I managed to finish all but one rug, and still had the hardwood floors to do when she approached me with the cane.
This time, there was no need to move to another room. She brought me to a nearby doorway where eyebolts were mounted high on each side. I stood on two telephone books while she padlocked my wrists to the eyebolts on either side. The books were removed, and I was left standing on tiptoe. Using two snap links, my ankles were spread and attached to two more eyebolts at floor level. Now, I literally hung by my wrists.
Again, no words were necessary. After briefly caressing my previous welts with her fingertips, she swung with the cane, applying six new welts on top of the old. Again, I screamed throughout. And when my second caning ended, I was again required to resume my duties.
Some minutes later, my feeder bag was nearly empty. It had occurred to me that she continued to drink through much of my work period. Now, her plan was clear. She came into the living room and summoned me to kneel before her.
Undoing the top of the bag, she opened it and refilled it with her piss, inches in front of me. She restored the bag, then shut the valve and removed my cock gag.
"Clean me, slave!"
My tongue found its way inside her, cleaning her thoroughly, then bringing her to orgasm. Although her tastes were again distinct, they were less of a shock to me, since I had already been wearing the feeder bag for over two hours. What was more humiliating was my arousal. Only at the end of the cunnilingus, when she neared orgasm, was the piss taste finally gone. As she came, flooding my mouth with her pure nectar, that taste I now loved so much more predominated, causing my erection to return and swell painfully against the confining rings of my cock cage. As that pain caught up with me, I remembered that I had not come for almost forty-eight hours and would not be allowed orgasm until at least midnight. I felt truly degraded, particularly after I cleaned her a second time, and she immediately replaced my feeder bag, now full once again.
Again, the bag now held well over a pint of her piss. Looking at it, we both realized that at the current flow rate, it would take a good three hours to empty.
"This won't do. I'll need your mouth again soon."
I knew her too well to anticipate mercy. She reached down and turned the valve, increasing the flow. Now, I had to swallow every two or three seconds.
"The bag comes off when its empty. If I have to piss again before you finish the bag, I'll add it to your supply. On the other hand, you may find that if you suck hard on that rubber cock, you might be able to drink it all down a lot sooner. Try it now and see."
I did. Stepping down yet another step on the degrading road to which I had committed myself, I sucked hard on the cock gag. As predicted, it did increase the flow of piss into my mouth. I might be able to drink down the bag in half an hour if I worked hard.
"Good, slave. Now, go get me a large lemonade, then return to your work."
As I served her the drink, I noted the time. My latest punishment, oral service and getting her lemonade took over twenty minutes. If I didn't finish the rugs, the last portion of my assigned chores, in the next forty minutes, I would be punished again with another half dozen with the cane. Also, until I finished the piss in the feeder bag, I'd be vulnerable to receiving another refill. Giving her one more fearful glance as she started drinking her lemonade, I tore into the rugs.
...Too quickly, unfortunately. I still wore the same accoutrements I wore hours earlier. The spiked ball took a funny bounce as I moved, forcefully striking and piercing my left thigh and pulling painfully on my balls with its weight. In reaction to the pain, hobbled by my chains and thrown off balance by the six inch heels still locked on my feet, I fell hard to the floor.
Mistress was on me in seconds with the cat-o-nine tails. "Clumsy! Can't you even walk right?! How much training do you need to just stay on your feet?..." Every other word was punctuated by the cat; my ass, thighs, back and chest all suffered their share.
"That gear was supposed to come off you when you finish the work. Now, you'll wear it until midnight!"
I shuddered. Midnight was still almost eight hours away. I worked hard, but as I started the last rug, Mistress appeared, smiling, holding the cane and checking her watch.
"You're still not done. You've earned another half dozen. But I'll need you soon for other duties, and I don't want to delay you. Keep working, I'll cane you as you continue."
I practically cried. This would clearly extend the time of my correction, spreading out the pain. It would be more painful, since I could not struggle against my restraints. Worst of all, it would likely earn me additional punishment if I fell or dropped anything.
The first stroke landed as soon as I turned toward my intended work. The pain was devastating, causing me to scream and drop to one knee. She apparently enjoyed my reaction, as she did not punish me. I had rolled up a rug, picked it up and was carrying it on one shoulder as the second stroke fell. I screamed again, tottering on my heels, and fell, dropping the rug. Mistress laughed, still enjoying the show.
As I knelt and laid the rug out in position, she administered two more strokes. Again, I screamed piteously, now in tears. I would have begged if my mouth was not under punishment itself.
"Slave!"
I turned and faced her, still kneeling.
"Stand, link your hands behind your head, and spread your legs!"
I obeyed, the spiked ball swinging, renewing the pain in my balls.
"I'm going to give you the last two strokes as you stand. If you take them without breaking position, I'll allow you to empty your bag quickly and remove it. If you fail, I'll refill your bag again, and you'll get another half dozen while chained. Understood?"
She was not bargaining. She was laying down the law. I nodded my head and prayed silently for the strength.
When the first stroke hit I screamed so loud, in spite of the gag, I felt it could be heard blocks away. The spiked ball swung wildly, cutting at my thighs and nearly tearing my balls off. The second stroke hit quickly, renewing and increasing all my pain, bringing me again to tears. Somehow, although I felt dizzy from the pain, I held position.
"Well done, slave. Kneel and face me, for your reward."
I obeyed. She reached down and opened the valve on the piss feeder all the way. My "Reward" was the right to drink down her piss in seconds, rather than over a longer period. I emptied the bag in moments, and it was, mercifully, removed along with the cock gag.
I humbled myself saying, "Thank you, Mistress, for a most effective correction." I bent to kiss her feet, but she pushed my face away with her toe. "Not with that piss-mouth, slave. If you wish to show your devotion, you may use your tongue in my asshole!"
She turned. I buried my face between her ass-cheeks, and my tongue found its way far inside her ass. "Keep it there, tongue-slave!" I continued working at her as she approached orgasm. She turned and drew me into her cunt with a handful of my hair. "Finish what you started, slut!" I sucked her clit until she had a major orgasm, then I sucked her clean.
My erection returned again, painful in the cage. As I was allowed to rise and return to the last of my chores, the weight on my tortured balls reminded me again of my own denial, my submission and enslavement.
The rest of the work was completed without incident. Now, I was feeling hungry, as was Mistress herself. She ordered dinner prepared: soup, a souffle, parboiled vegetables and a light dessert. It was funny, in a way. Having finished my work ordeal, I was "Freed" to do my regular chores, in this case cooking, while wearing slave chains, a posture collar, a butt plug, an eight-pound spiked ball hanging from my scrotum, plus my usual cock cage.
At dinner, Mistress indulged another whim. She had made a number of purchases of new equipment since our initial shopping trip, and this was one of them. It was a table-stock. Essentially, a small table hung by chains from the ceiling. It was cut down the middle and had openings for my neck and wrists, like a pillory. My collar and wrist restraints were removed and I was locked into it. The table was set and the food at hand as the lock snapped shut. I knelt, with both our plates inches from my face. I watched Mistress eat her dinner, while mine cooled, untouched. She ate slowly, enjoying both the food and my obvious hunger and took close to half an hour to finish. She then left the table and took her favorite chair to watch TV and relax.
I was kept locked in the stock for over an hour after she left me, hungry, my dinner right under my nose. Finally, she released me, locked my wrists behind my back, then had me eat her to orgasm.
I spent another twenty minutes bringing her off. Then and only then did she place my plate on the floor and allow me to eat my now-cold dinner without the use of my hands. Interestingly, I spilled my soup in the process of eating. I expected Mistress to come at me like a fire-storm, but she was very mellow. Her only words were, "Two demerits!"
I shuddered. My ass was already thoroughly welted, and I was pushing two days since my last orgasm. I also had spent the better part of the day in one form of restraint or another. I would have to serve very carefully to avoid any further demerits.
She brought out a bottle of wine and two glasses. She then switched my restraints for the wrist-to-neck harness. "I want your ass available, and you won't be needing your hands." She took her chair again, and I noticed a number of toys available for her entertainment.
She restrained me in a leg-spreader, one which spread my ankles about four feet apart. She then applied my rubber discipline helmet. I was blinded and would soon begin sweating profusely in the warm room.
I was made to kneel facing away from her, my ass high and my face to the floor. I knew my anus was opened wide, and I was vulnerable to what I anticipated would be a whipping. I listened for tell-tale sounds to indicate what would be her choice of weapons.
Surprisingly, I heard what sounded like a broomstick, then the sound of duct tape being torn from a roll. What was happening?
I was shocked to feel a well-greased dildo entering my ass. She had taken a dildo measuring about an inch by twelve inches and taped it to the end of the broomstick. Now, seated casually in the chair, she was using it to fuck my ass. For some minutes the stroking continued, eliciting my groans of frustration to the interesting background of the New Year's celebrations beginning on TV. Soon, my groans grew quieter as I adjusted to the size of the dildo. Then, it stopped.
"This won't do! You can hardly feel this one!"
Leaving the dildo embedded in my ass, she removed the duct tape attaching it to the broomstick. I heard more tape, then suddenly the dildo was yanked out and another one was shoved hard into my ass.
I screamed once with the shock of it--this one was larger, a good inch and a half across. Now, I moaned deeply on each and every stroke. And my cock, stimulated by my strenuous ass-fucking, remained erect within its torturous cage, punishing me.
For close to an hour she continued. When she finally did remove it, I could feel the air currents in the room far inside my now wide opened ass. With the leg spreader still in place, I would remain opened. Soon, she replaced my butt plug, with a larger one this time, and locked on its harness.
Two quick, hard strokes from a cat-o-nine tails caught me off guard. My ass lowered somewhat, and I would have fallen over if my ankles were not bound so far apart.
"To your knees, cunt-sucker!"
Struggling, I managed to regain an upright position on my knees in spite of my restraints.
"Bring your mouth here--I wish to use it!"
Just turning was torturous. Try crawling on your knees with your ankles spread four feet apart and an eight pound weight swinging from your balls. And then, I had to locate my Mistress with my sight blocked by the rubber helmet and my hearing severely reduced.
She had stepped behind me, and she suddenly tightened the strap connecting my wrists to my collar. Now, my wrists were two inches higher than they were, and my shoulders began feeling the strain.
The whip guided me to her pussy, and the straps she connected from her rubber merry widow to my helmet kept my head perfectly positioned to service her. I began to lick.
Isolated within the helmet, I could only taste her pussy. My sight was gone, my hearing severely impaired. My hands were lost to me, straining my arms as my wrists were pulled high up my back. My legs, spread wide, opened my penetrated ass to its dildo and exposed my balls, stretched by the weight.
For a good hour and a half, I serviced her. Still aroused, I continued responding to my own need. My cock pulsed, and the cage would torture it further. My balls would jerk against their weight, and my ass would constrict against the dildo buried within me. The pain would distract me from my service, and Mistress would correct me with a whipstroke, or an upward tug on my wrist harness, or a yank on my helmet straps.
Soon, I began to see, not for the first time, the lesson in this. I had to devote myself totally to the pleasure of my Mistress. Any acknowledgement of my own needs caused pain. My needs must be set aside. I must be a slave.
The New Year arrived. Mistress stopped the action and removed all my restraints, even the cock cage. A single look from her was warning enough-if I so much as touched my cock, I'd be punished severely and probably not allowed my orgasm.
She handed me both the dildos she had used in my ass. No commands were necessary; still kneeling, I cleaned them both by mouth.
"Congratulations! You are now fully enslaved. There will be no more turning back."
"Thank you, Mistress." I kissed her feet.
"Take all your restraints to the bedroom!"
She chained me by my spread ankles to the foot of the bed, lying on the floor. My posture collar was installed and my wrists re-shackled and attached to the rear link of the collar.
"Now, slave, I can't just dispense pleasure to a slave-in-training without maintaining discipline. When we finish, your cock will be locked into its cage, and you will remain bound as you are for the night.
"But there must be more. I will give you three items to choose from: your large dildo, the three inch ball stretcher, and the piss feeder. Pick two, and you will wear them overnight as well. Hesitate, and you'll wear all three and not be allowed to come."
I thought quickly. I must be trained well, with items which would remind me of my position. The piss feeder would do so, as would the dildo. The ball stretcher would likely prevent my ejaculation and would be too painful to sleep in.
"Mistress, please use the dildo and the feeder gag."
"A good choice, slave!"
She inserted the dildo immediately. It was the larger one from before, realistically shaped, an inch and a half in diameter and close to eight inches long. She strapped it in tightly, burying it entirely and locked it in.
She brought the feeder setup over, then opened the bag. Again, inches from my face, she pissed into the bag, filling it once more to its top. She sealed it, then set it aside.
"Now slave, clean me, then suck me off!"
She sat hard on my face. With my arms raised and my wrists locked behind my posture collar, my mouth was well positioned to receive her cunt. Kneeling across my folded arms, she kept me perfectly in position. Fresh from her piss, I cleaned her thoroughly first with my tongue.
I serviced her for a good half hour, licking whatever part of her cunt presented itself. When her clitoris was thrust at me, I'd lick it rapidly, the way I knew she liked, with quick tongue strokes to its underside, alternating with an occasional slow suck from my lips. When her vagina or her asshole met my mouth, I'd bury my tongue as far as it would penetrate as well as sucking when I could. I drank a great deal of her juice and brought her to orgasm at least three or four times over fifteen minutes. She then turned, facing my lower body, and remounted my mouth. Seconds later, I felt a sharp stroke of her small cat-o-nine tails directly on my cock. Helpless to protest, I continued sucking her, as she gave me additional whipstrokes every thirty seconds or so. The pain was intense, and I knew she was welting my cock, even contacting my balls on occasion. With two frustrated days worth of come stored in them, they took the worst of it. With her stimulated by her own sadism, she brought herself to two more orgasms as she continued to ride my face. Amazingly, as intense as the pain was in my cock, I also found the whipstrokes stimulating. I began to see the possibility of being literally whipped to orgasm.
That was not to be tonight, however. She rose and buckled a wide strap around my cock and balls. "I can't have you coming too quickly, slave. I want a good ride on you, first. Perform well, and I'll release your strap."
She mounted me and dropped down, hard. Unfortunately, the strap brought my balls up into a prominent position where Mistress' weight landed on them at the bottom of each stroke. Now I had to contend with the pain of my balls being partially crushed, as well as the fresh welts on my cock, and the older welts on my ass which were being slammed into the bare hardwood floor. My dildo, overfilling my ass, added to my discomfort.
As she had done before, she sometimes stopped all her motion and demanded, "Fuck me, stud!" I had to use all my strength, fighting the pain, and thrust upward against her weight, torturing myself in order to bring us both pleasure. At other times, she'd take the initiative and pound down hard on me, crushing me, making me cry out in pain and frustration. Through it all, with the strap tightly wrapped around my cock and balls, I could not come, and my erection would be maintained until she released me.
Finally, she had a major orgasm. I felt like she was driving me through the floor as she came and wondered if my own plumbing would still work properly when she finally finished. Smiling, she looked down at me, and with one hand, unbuckled my strap. Without rising, she brutally pulled the strap off, causing it to severely bruise my already chafed flesh and causing me to scream loudly.
"Okay, lover. Fill my cunt with your come so I can feed it back to you!"
I moaned, both in frustration and in anticipation of my upcoming humiliation. I moaned again, when I realized she was not going to move to assist me in coming--she would again be a dead weight on my cock, which, exhausted as I was, I would have to lift with my strength on each stroke.
It took me perhaps a minute to come. In spite of her weight, in spite of my restraints, my dildo and my welts, I thrashed violently in orgasm, practically dislodging my Mistress, and emptied two full days worth of come into her cunt.
Without even waiting for me to catch my breath, she immediately moved up directly over my face. "Alright, slave. Now, suck it all out!" With that, she sat hard on my mouth. She even used her fingers to pull her labia apart, insuring my access to her. "More tongue, slave! Get it up inside and lick out every drop!" I obeyed, swallowing all she had to offer, both the come I placed there and her own juices.
Several times she moved up and down on me, covering my face with our mixed juices. Eventually I succeeded in cleaning her to her satisfaction. She quickly reinstalled my cock cage, then smiled down at me. "Time for the rest of your punishment gear, slave!"
I was at a momentary loss and could not remember. My legs were spread painfully wide, my wrists joined under my neck. On the bare wood floor, that alone would be an unpleasant way to spend the night. Beyond that, my ass was filled with the largest dildo it could tolerate, my cock cage was locked on and my posture collar was in place.
Then, flushing with humiliation, I remembered. She thrust the feeder gag into my mouth, the realistic, rubber cock, fed by its transparent tube. It was locked on. She hung the bag, filled with her piss, from the top of the bedpost, where we could both see it. She connected a long feeder tube from the bag to my gag. Finally, she opened the valve, just enough for a very slow drip-feed, a rate which would take the entire night to empty the bag.
She sat on the floor by my head, her pussy inches from my face. She masturbated gently with a finger as, together, we watched the yellow fluid travel slowly down the clear tube to my gag. Finally, several minutes later, the first drops of piss entered my mouth as we looked into each other's eyes. I swallowed. She wiped her fingers, now wet with her juice, under my nose, to allow me to breath her scent as I lay in punishment. I swallowed again as she said, "Good night, my slave!"
She got into bed. I heard her masturbate to yet one more orgasm, knowing she was watching the piss-bag which I would slowly drink down through the long night.
I was her slave. Now, it was irrevokable. And tonight, I would not forget it. I swallowed again as I heard her moans of pleasure, feeling my returning erection pulsing hard against its cage, punishing me. I slept when I could.
1/1 and beyond. . .
My life as a slave now bears little resemblance to what it was when I was a free man. My wife and Mistress owns all we have--the house, cars, all our furniture, our bank accounts and investments, all are now in her name. My paychecks are made out to her as well, mailed to the house, and I never see them.
I never leave the house without at least a chastity device locked on, either the cock cage or the full chastity belt. Frequently, I also wear a butt plug, ball stretcher or some other device to torture, tease or humiliate me. I have only female undergarments now, and more often than not wear her soiled panties as well, around my neck, with a locked chain to hold them there.
Mistress always selects my clothes. She prefers me in tight pants in public, ones which show off my ass and squeeze my perennially swollen balls. In the house, there is a small foyer just inside the front door. I must put on any outer clothing there on the way out and remove it there on the way back in. Inside the foyer, I haven't worn male clothes since the New Year.
The housework has become routine for me. When I return home from work, if I am not summoned for service or punishment, I immediately wash all the laundry, clean the bathroom and living room then start the cooking for dinner, according to the menu Mistress leaves out for me. After dinner, I do the dishes, clean the kitchen, den and bedroom, then proceed to any special chores Mistress assigns.
My regular work uniform consists of my chastity belt, collar, a medium sized dildo, wrist and ankle shackles and a ringed waist belt. I must wear stockings and a garter belt, and shoes with at least four inch heels. Frequently, Mistress denies me even the female lingerie and I work naked except for my restraints. Alternatively, she might have me wear a more elaborate costume, or extremely high heels, or more severe restraints. Once, she had me clean the entire bathroom while blinded by a rubber discipline helmet. She pissed directly on the floor just before I started, and I worked naked, on my hands and knees, until it sparkled.
On a daily basis, she will place me in my "Tie". I am put in some sort of severe restraint, fixed in place, generally for an hour. While restrained, I might be whipped, fucked in my ass, forced to service Mistress orally or otherwise tortured. Whatever the variation, the exercise is done every day.
My mouth must be available constantly to service Mistress on demand, regardless of any other duties or time commitments. If that service causes one of my other responsibilities to fall short, I am still punished.
When Mistress summons me for any reason, I must be kneeling at her feet, my lips to her toes, in thirty seconds. Each second over that costs me a stroke of the crop. If I fail to be satisfying enough with my cunnilingus, I am given five demerits and the loss of my next scheduled orgasm. If I encounter problems in enduring any abuse or punishment, the remainder of such punishment is doubled and I am given additional demerits.
If I fail to address her as ''Mistress", it costs me two demerits. Breaking an assigned position also earns me a pair, as does wearing any unauthorized article of clothing under any circumstances. If I touch my cock without specific orders to do so, it costs me five demerits.
Speaking of which, I am only allowed three orgasms a week, under ideal circumstances, on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday nights. She has experimented with this, allowing me as little as one orgasm a week. She says our current pace maximizes my arousal. I agree.
On nights when I'm denied orgasm, I remain locked in my cock cage or chastity belt and do without. Nevertheless, I service Mistress upon waking, just before leaving for work, upon returning home from work and just before sleeping, in addition to any other times Mistress may demand the use of my mouth.
Friday night is punishment night. If I have any outstanding punishments on my record, they are all paid off that night. It starts with my regular slave's whipping, a traditional dozen with the cane, which I always receive, even when I've served perfectly. I am restrained in a tight, standing spread-eagle to receive the strokes.
Following that, I pay off my demerits. Each demerit costs me six with the cane or half an hour of punitive restraint. She usually doesn't give me more than two dozen with the cane at one stretch. If I owe more strokes, she'll give me two dozen, then wait twenty or thirty minutes before continuing. Usually, she'll combine the cane with restraint. Also, for the larger debts, she might have me pay off an additional five demerits with the loss of an orgasm.
Of course, punitive restraint is more than just being tied up. It must, in and of itself, be a punishment. A standing spread-eagle is not punishing. However, if she hoists me higher until my feet leave the floor, spreads my ankles by over four feet, then adds nipple clamps and/or several pounds of weight hanging from my balls, that would do the job. Alternatively, she might suspend me upside-down, or partially suspend me by a single ankle, or by my wrists, joined behind me and raised high. Perhaps she might spread-eagle me on the floor, on my back, install my largest ball stretcher, attach a rope to it and haul up on it until my ass is six inches off the floor. That's punitive restraint. Half an hour of it pays back one demerit.
She has intensified my piss training. The feeder gag isn't considered punishment anymore, just an exercise. Mistress hasn't used toilet paper when I've been available for months. At least once every couple of days, she commands me to drink her piss directly from her body. I have become accustomed to the taste, but the humiliation will always remain. She has also repeated the scene from the restaurant, forcing me to drink piss in public, on numerous occasions, both her piss and my own.
Once, in a department store, we were looking for stockings for both her and me. She went to the ladies room and had me wait right outside the door for her. When she emerged, she commanded, "Open!" I opened my mouth and she quickly stuffed her panties in. She said, "Close!", and I obeyed. She must have pissed right through the panties, as they were saturated. I had to keep them in my mouth until we left the store, over two hours later.
My oral servitude has become an ever-greater focus of my enslavement, reflected by our numerous purchases of related equipment and accessories. Sometimes, she wants me to bring her to orgasm with my mouth. She might use a discipline helmet, with straps connected to pull me into place between her legs. Sometimes, she'll use a ring gag to force my jaws to remain wide open, insuring that I will swallow all her juices while limiting my efforts to only the use of my tongue, thus prolonging her pleasure.
She enjoys the "Smothering" approach, as well. Many times, she'll sit on my face in bed, covering me with her full weight, making it impossible for me to breathe unless she allows it. We've also acquired a chair for the living room which conceals an opening for my head. I lay back and a wooden stock imprisons my neck. A strap holds my forehead in position, and tight cushioned pads compress the sides of my head. There is an optional blindfold available, as well. My wrist shackles are locked to eyebolts at the ends of the chair's arms, then my ankles are spread, drawn back and attached to the feet of the chair. She takes her seat and my face is buried in her pussy. This chair is Mistress' favorite, as she can spend an entire evening in it if she wishes, with my lips glued to hers for hours. At times, she'll even sleep there an hour or two, yet even then she requires my tongue to continue its dance upon her clitoris, under the threat of the whip. I have found that she awakens readily when my efforts slack, and further, my chest is quite sensitive to the cat-o-nine tails when I am bent in a severe arch such as that produced by her chair of pleasure.
Sometimes, she trains me with her scent alone, denying me her taste. She'll use the penis gag on me, then wear the rubber Mistress Pants. Buried in her cunt, I breathe only her scent, but can taste nothing but the rubber of the gag. Alternatively, she'll fix me in the chair while gagged and blindfolded, or while she wears soiled panties.
She also has several pairs of short pants made of paper thin rubber. When she sits on my face while wearing those, I can feel her warmth, feel every detail of her flesh, but again, taste only the rubber.
The double-ended cock gag also proved interesting when we brought home a couple of variations on the theme. In one, the dildo includes holes or channels through its entire length. When Mistress fucks her end of the dildo, the channels carry her juice into my mouth. I consume her juice, have the tastes and smells forced on me throughout, yet my lips and tongue are denied her flesh. In another variation, the gag portion is equipped with a feeder tube. Used with the bag, she can fuck on my face, but I taste only her piss. Both these variations proved devastating on me when she started using her end of the dildo on her ass while facing me. This brought her cunt within an inch of my eyes and nose, where I could watch her masturbate at point-blank range and see her very juices dripping, yet I could only taste what the dildo-gag fed me, usually only piss from the bag.
A nurse she knows got her an oxygen mask. She sometimes fixes me wearing the mask then puts the other end of its feed tube where it can pick up her scent. She might simply stuff it into her pants, or perhaps set it up to pick up her piss odor. When combined with the rubber discipline helmet, the results are awesome.
Once every week or two, Mistress has her friends over for "Poker Night". I serve drinks and set up the buffet, then I am locked, blindfolded, into the face-sitting chair. Mistress sits on me, then the table's other chairs are filled by her friends. On each hand, the winner gets to use a small cat-o-nine tails to lash my chest for half a dozen strokes, then she sits in the pleasure seat. While blindfolded, I have no way of knowing whom I am servicing, except by taste and smell. The games usually go on for some hours.
How has all this affected me?
I love her, now, more than I ever did before. I am totally obsessed with her, totally dependent on her, and I spend all my waking time in devotion to her pleasure. Other than my job, she allows me no distractions. She shares me freely with her female friends, who now visit regularly to observe my punishment and partake of my slave services.
Mistress has trained me completely. Now, even subconsciously, I place her pleasure above all things. Once, when I had already been denied orgasm for three days and she was preparing me for a scheduled orgasm, she stopped suddenly, held up my cock cage and said, "I'm too tired for both of us to come tonight. Who should I allow to come, you or me?" Without a thought, I answered, "You, Mistress." She locked my cock cage on me again and used my mouth. My next orgasm was not to take place for another two days, for a total of five days of enforced chastity.
Mistress never fails to come up with original ways to tease, degrade, stimulate or humiliate me. Whether she's arousing me or punishing me, I adore her. In truth, I worship her as I do life itself. She is my fulfillment, my ultimate pleasure. And if I was asked what I might have done to improve my life, if l had it to do over again, I would answer, "The night of our marriage, I would surrender to my wife."
Master Ivan
(Writing as “mip the slave”)
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