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Mistress and Slave
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Mistress and Slave
One of my recent acquisitions has begged for the privilege of having a
scene described for the amusement (and envy) of all. The price he will
pay for this privilege has already been decided: he will have to clean my
house for me every day this week, cook all my meals and serve them to me,
then eat at my feet, polish my boots, bathe me and dress me. He is only
permitted to cum during this time at my occasional whim, if at all--and
he will only be permitted to cum in one way.
While I have him stark naked, in restraints, blindfolded and gagged, he
may lie across my lap for a long spanking before going to bed. He has the
great privilege of rubbing his cock into my naked thighs as I beat his
ass, since I am kind enough to raise my skirt. He can feel the tips of my
breasts brush his back--or, rather, he can feel the lacy tips of my bra.
If he can cum like that, he attains relief. Otherwise, he goes to sleep
with a hard-on.
Such generosity....ah, well.
Last week, I decided to show my slave him some of the useful tricks I've
picked up along the way.
First, I handcuffed his wrists, and secured them behind his back. Ankles
cuffed together. In case he squeals too much, a nice leather gag -
the kind with the stuffed leather pouch that fills the entire mouth -
strapped around his head. Isn't that precious?
Then I took my leash, looped it around the two sets of cuffs and threaded
it through the handle. Pulled tight, my slave's dick and balls helplessly
thrust forward, he is hog-tied and looks very pretty.
And for the well-dressed masochist: fits like a glove but feels like a
vise: a lovely new cock and ball restraint. This one is made of soft kid
with laces that tightly draw the balls away from the dick and make the
dick stand up rather ridiculously. The head is left exposed. This way, as
the evening proceeds, all kinds of pleasant activity may ensue. We can
flick the head with a fingernail; pinch it hard; spank it with a riding
crop; or just for fun, press a piece of ice against it, followed by a
hot coffee. Or maybe just a dash or two of hot salsa?
My slave never struggles, but he does enjoy his punishment. By tugging
hard on the leash, I caused him to topple onto the floor. Then once he was
prone and on his back, I pushed the knees apart so that his asshole was
completely exposed. This presented me with a number of options. Sometimes
I like to make him wear a butt-plug to please me. Sometimes, a vibrator is
just right.
This time, however, it was a special occasion. I'd noticed that my slave
had been a little more rebellious of late, and I decided he could use an
extra bit of discipline to keep him in line. So, I went and got the enema
bag.
When my slave saw what I had in hand, he started moaning and protesting
inside his gag. I kept asking him, "Do you have anything to say?" but the
gag muffled all his words, so I said, "Oh, I guess nothing you feel like
articulating!"
I prefer to use scented water for lads (makes 'em feel like ladies).
Coffee sometimes works well, but can get the poor things a little too
perky for their own good. So, after filling the enema bag, I added
rosepetals and chamomile. Then I removed the gag briefly, pinched my
slave's nostrils, and made him taste the brew.
Before he did, he started to protest. So I went back into the kitchen and
got the jar of salsa and showed it to him. He immediately got quiet,
lowered his eyes, and obediently drank a little from his enema bag.
But, since he had been so naughty, I decided to forego the lubricant this
time. I just inserted the bare nozzle up his anus, as he wiggled in
discomfort.
Within minutes the 2-quart bag was emptied into his bowels. I could tell
that the cramping had already begun by the little whimpers I could hear
from under the gag and the pretty way he moved his ass around.
Now here's where the dominant shows some imagination. I was doing all
this in the bedroom, which is a good ways from the bathroom. I didn't
have the butt-plug handy to replace the enema hose. Well, to let the slave
relieve itself all over the floor creates an unsightly mess. It's too
disgusting to stay in the room once the carpet's all shitted, so who'll
unlock the cuffs at the session's end?
I couldn't get him into the bathroom tied up like that, and besides, he
couldn't exactly sit on a toilet either, hogtied as he was. A hospital
potty adapted for women is an excellent idea, but someone as full of shit
as this submissive will quickly overflow the receptacle.
In these cases, a bit of yankee ingenuity helps. Know those trash bags
Hefty Hefty Hefy? I figured a Truth-in-Advertising experiment was in order
to see whether they live up to their reputation. I secured the edges with
plenty of medical tape (painful, but just about right when it's pulled off
the pubic and anal areas at the end of the session).
Right before I finished taping it in place, I pulled the nozzle out of my
slave's ass. Then I removed the gag from his mouth, and stood back to
watch. His eyes had become incredibly submissive, even though his face
was crimson with shame. The unmistakable sounds of expulsion made him
all the more embarrassed, especially since Mistress was standing above
him, watching intently, and smiling.
When he finally stopped, after almost half an hour, I released him from
his chains. Then I commanded him to take the bag to the toilet, dump the
contents, clean himself, and launder the bag for re-use. Meanwhile, I
supervised all the procedings, with crop in hand.
By the time he was finally finished he was bursting out of his cock
restraint, and
the head was almost purple. He threw himself at my feet,
kissing them feverishly, and begged for permission to serve me in some
way. So I let him serve me by spending the rest of the day on his knees,
while I intermittently whipped him with my crop and my quirt.
With slaves like this, you need enemas.
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