Professional dominatrices? I don’t know. Since the artist is Eric Stanton we can feel fully licensed to assume they are women who would enjoy doing pleasurably cruel thngs to men like us.
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I could hear the new girl walking up behind me and then, into my view. She was taller than Mistress Scarlett, with long red hair and sparkling green eyes with long legs that ended with spike heels. Her body was covered up, though, in frumpy sweat clothes, so, I couldn’t detect anything remarkable about her. That is, until she quickly doffed-off her top and bottom and tossed them over my head. Before my view was cut-off, though, I saw a skimpy leather bikini with fabulous breasts bulging out at the top. That vision caused my still-burnt dick to start throbbing itself up to a raging hard-on, out of my control once again.
Image by Bernard Montogueil “Uh-uh,” this new girl said. “You don’t get to peek,” she said, with a laugh. “Looks like he already got an eyeful,” Mistress Scarlett remarked. “Look at that worthless cock!” taking note almost as quickly as I did of the revival of life in my dick. “Slave, this is my friend, Megan MISTRESS Megan to you, of course,” she ordered. “She is the manager of our workout place, the manager I would’ve gone to to get your ass kicked-out for sexually harassing me tonight.” At that last statement, I turned my head in her general direction, since I couldn’t see with the sweat-clothes over my head, and let out an “Ohhhhh-nooo…” This caused Mistress Megan to break out in giggling. “Yes, slave, when Scarlett called me from her car phone tonight and told me what happened, I thought ‘well, we don’t need to kick you out, but you do need to be taught a lesson.’ We have a lot of you pervies that frequently stare at a lot of the women, and they ALL get pissed about it and bitch to me about it. Tonight, you’re going to receive just desserts for your lack of respect for women. If I can help prevent one less guy to stare at us while we’re working out, that’s a good first step,” she finished. “Just desserts?”, I thought to myself. “What ELSE was going to happen to me tonight?”, though, I was getting a good picture of what more was awaiting my body. I felt the clothes being removed from my head to see the two Mistresses more fully. Mistress Megan had a fucking awesome body. She apparently had worked-out just prior to coming over to Scarlett’s because her hair was a bit wet and I realized my face was wet from the sweats as well. I sucked in my breath at her strong and well- defined legs and calves, and, yet again, soaked-in the view of her bulging breasts. My dick was pumping up and down, dying for attention. Mistress Megan ignored me, but stepped over for a look at my dick. She had a curious look on her face, then looked up at Mistress Scarlett and observed the still unlit cigarette in her hand. Mistress Megan wrinkled her nose a bit and chuckled to say “Hm. Looks like ya’ll have been having a bit of a wienie roasting!” she said, clapping her hands with delight. Mistress Scarlett broke-up at this one, quite amused. Mistress Megan reached out to touch my dick, and I moaned, not exactly in pleasure, but at the pain of her touch on my extremely sensitive foreskin. She tapped all around the circumference, even lifting up the throbbing member to observe the crushed-out butt below my sore dick. “Nice,” she observed. Then, she looked at how my hands were tied above my head, followed the rope up to the pulley, then down to…she stepped around my body to get a better look at my balls. “Have you already dealt with these,” she asked Mistress Scarlett. “They look nice and blue.” “I’ve kicked them a couple of times, but, nowhere near what he deserves,” Mistress Scarlett answered. I felt Mistress Megan poke them behind me with her fingernail. “Hm. Kinda cold. Are you tying them up, waiting for them to fall off?,” Mistress Megan asked. “Nooooo that wouldn’t be any fun. I want him to feel more punishment. Cutting off his balls would prevent us from having fun far into the future. Maybe I need to loosen them up,” Mistress Scarlett said, stepping behind me as well. I could feel her hands rustling around on my balls and their bonds and then she released them from being under tension. She lifted up one of her booted feet and lightly tapped the underside of the sac and remarked, “we need to wait until there’s some blood back into these babies. I want to make sure he feels everything fully.” “I agree,” Mistress Megan said. When the tension was released from my balls, the tension was also released from my arms and they sank down as well. “Maybe we should give him the opportunity to stretch a bit, too. I want him to suffer, believe me, but, only as far as his mid-section is concerned. After all, I’m not a sadist!” Mistress Scarlett exclaimed, laughing loudly. She untied my hands and instructed me “Get up slave. Walk around a bit, stroke your cock and balls to make sure blood gets back into them, but DO NOT beat yourself off. If there’s going to be anyone cumming in here, it’s going to me a female, not you. Got it?” she asked sharply. “Yes, Mistress Scarlett,” I said, grateful for the opportunity to remove myself from that very cramped position. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to get up and walk slowly around. Meanwhile, Mistress Scarlett and Mistress Megan walked over to a corner of the room to whisper about my fate. I was gingerly manipulating my ball-sac, spreading the skin a bit to return it to its normal red color when Mistress Megan called out from across the room, “Uh-uh, slave. Don’t be messing around with those balls too much…that’s MY responsibility! I weakly answered her, “Yes, Mistress Megan,” and left them alone, still walking around, stretching out my legs. After a few minutes of hearing hushed whispers from my two tormenters, I heard Mistress Scarlett say to Mistress Megan, “Okay, good idea. I’ll call her now.” At this, I wondered who “her” was, thinking that two women were going to be more than a challenge enough, but a third? A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and my groin area caused my dick to deflate at this thought. Mistress Megan came over to me, well-balanced on her spiked high heels and showing incredible leg. My dick began to rise as she approached. “My, you really are a pervie, aren’t you,” Mistress Megan asked me sharply. Mistress Scarlett was dialing the phone and, hearing Mistress Megan’s comment, walked over with the portable phone to see what was going on in my corner of the room. As she walked, my eyes rested on her still-naked, bouncing breasts. “I gave him 25 demerits before when he did that. I guess he’s got a tough time learning how to be respectful of his superiors,” Mistress Scarlett observed, in a bitchy tone. “I think we should double that for you…he should be learning SOMETHING by now. IF he continues to disregard our lessons, we’ll keep increasing the punishment until he gets a clue.” “Yeah, I see that. Fifty sounds fine to me, but, maybe the problem lies in the execution of him working off the demerits. How do you have that structured?”, Mistress Megan inquired. “Well, I figure each kick counts as a minus one. Each cigarette also counts as a minus one, regardless of how long it takes for the punishment to occur. So, so far, he has worked off 2 demerits, leaving him with 23 for his disrespect of my body.” Mistress Megan nodded, apparently in agreement with how the demerits were to be worked-off. “Well, with my 50, and your 23, that should leave us with a lonnnnnng time and a lot of opportunity to teach him good, long lasting lessons,” Mistress Megan said. “Seventy-three demerits. YUMMY!” I just opened my eyes wide at the thought that a kick to the nuts would count the same as 10 minutes of cigarette torture. I opened my mouth to protest with “But I —-”, and I didn’t get a chance to say anything when Mistress Megan’s demeanor changed suddenly with ferocity and she raised her right foot and promptly kicked me in the crotch, perfectly nailing my balls with the toe of her red pointy spike heel. I sucked in breath and sank immediately to the floor from the kick, unable to do anything except moan in agony from her kick. So much for my input into the discussion. “Oops! You spoke too soon, Megan!” Mistress Scarlett exclaimed, going back to punching in digits for her phone call. “Yes, I did.” Mistress Megan said. “Pardon me…72 demerits, or, does the asshole have anything to add to this,” she said, looking down at me. I was looking up at her, aghast at the change in her demeanor, and groaning with the shot she had delivered. I shook my head vigorously and answered her, “No-no-no-no, Mistress Megan. I’m so sorry for speaking out of turn before,” I got out of my mouth before a convulsion of pain shot through my gut again and caused me to curl-up in a ball. “Oh, that’s okay, slave. You’ll learn. And, you’ll learn that I can be a very….very…inspirational teacher,” Mistress Megan finished. She stepped towards my prostrate form and placed her right foot, the one that socked me, in front of my face. “Kiss the toe of my shoe, slave. Kiss it and thank me for taking the time to properly instruct you. Thank me for displaying my regard for your worthless body and deep interest in making sure you learn respect for women,” she commanded me. I quickly complied, kissing the toe of her shoe reverently, and saying over and over again, “Thank You, Mistress Megan…Thank You, Mistress Megan” Mistress Scarlett, meanwhile had apparently connected with her friend because I overheard her say, “Yes, yes….oh, Carmen, that’s a great idea to add to our party!…yes….yes…um-hmmm…… okay…”, she said, checking her watch. “Oh. Okay…then, we’ll see you at about 9:30 tonight?…Great! Oh, don’t bother knocking… just come on down to the playroom in the basement…uh-huh….okay… can’t wait to see you either!” Mistress Scarlett said, clicking off the phone. “Carmen was SO happy to hear from me, and she jumped at the chance to join us tonight. She’s been bugging me for weeks about her idea to convert that unused bathroom into a closet, but, now we’ve decided that we could likely use it as a real bathroom, complete with a built-in MALE toilet!” Mistress Scarlett finished with a huge smile on her face. “Oh, really?,” Mistress Megan answered her, getting the inference with a smile that lit up her face. “Ohhhhh that’s a perfect use for this dog,” she said, motioning to me on the floor. Meanwhile, the “dog” on the floor, me, had racing thoughts about what Mistress Scarlett had said. “Toilet?”, I thought to myself. “Surely she was joking…” I hoped to myself. “Well,” Mistress Scarlett said, checking her watch again. “We have about 45 minutes before Carmen arrives. I think we need to start with his schooling again. Which ‘end’ do you want, Megan?” “I want those puny balls. I want to cause him so much discomfort that he thinks twice before getting a hard-on in my presence again,” Mistress Megan said, harshly. “Oh, goodie! That means I have more fun with dick-and-head here,” she giggled, taking note of her own pun. I just groaned at what was in store for me. “Get up slave….or don’t. Crawl back over there so we can get you properly restrained and your lessons begun,” Mistress Scarlett ordered. I said “Yes, Mistress Scarlett,” and proceeded to shuffle my knees and half-walked, half-crawled back over to the stocks device. Without even being told, I immediately stuck my limp penis into its designated hole and set myself to receive whatever I was going to be dealt with from these two beauties. Mistress Megan came walking over, un-hooking her leather bikini top and letting it fall. She gave me a small smile and said “Okay, slave, you’re now allowed to get a hard-on for me. In fact, if you DON’T get a hard-on for me, I’ll consider it a personal insult and deal with you harshly for disobeying me.” Lucky for me, I didn’t have to try too hard to get it up. Her undulating breasts and erect nipples contributed greatly to my penis-driven mental state and swoosh! Dick arises. Girl should now be happy…even though, I knew my hardness was the exact reason why I was about to face more punishment at their hands. (Small-minded and weak, but, aren’t men amazing?) Mistress Scarlett walked back over to me and, instead of tying both arms above my head, as she had before, she took each wrist and secured it on either side of me, below my waist. She took another length of rope and tie my body firmly to the wooden face, which served to make sure my dick was fully inserted into the hole. My legs were prodded apart from Mistress Megan behind me, and I was then properly positioned for them. “What do you need, Megan?” Mistress Scarlett asked. “Ummm got a spoon handy?” Mistress Megan responded. “Oh, yes,” Mistress Scarlett responded, in front of me, smiling. She walked over to the cabinet and slid open a drawer to retrieve several wooden spoons. She turned and walked back, reaching to hand the spoons to Mistress Megan behind me. She then reached down to retrieve her cigarette, lighter, and plopped down into her chair to once again face me. I felt Mistress Megan behind me as she reached down to locate my balls and pulled them out behind me, stretching them so that they were tight against the bottom of the sac. I felt her poke my sac with one of her sharp fingernails, which caused me to flinch slightly. “Oh, Sweetie, if that caused you a bit of discomfort, just wait until the real lesson begins,” Mistress Megan said, with a small laugh. In front of me, Mistress Scarlett flicked the lighter and the flame wicked-up, engulfing the cigarette she held in her sexy mouth. The cigarette lit up with a red glow…a red glow I was all too familiar with. She sucked in a breath and blew it up into the air above me. As she did that, her beautiful breasts jiggled a little bit, causing my dick to immediately throb even harder. At that moment, Mistress Megan behind me delivered her first blow to my balls with one of the spoons. SMACK! I gasped at the shock of the blow. She didn’t hesitate at all. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I shouted in pain. I squirmed, but couldn’t squirm anywhere, due to my restraints. Mistress Scarlett took another drag on her cigarette in front of me, and, with her inhaled breath, peeled back some more hot ash that needed to be dumped somewhere. She leaned forward and, while looking directly into my frightened eyes, her breasts hanging down to expose wonderful cleavage that I only quickly looked down at, she held the cigarette right above the softest part of my dick, the head, and expertly flicked the cigarette to dump glowing ash right onto it’s unprotected surface, causing me to scream “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! NO! NO! NO! PLEEEEEASE STOP!” I was in complete agony from the burning pile of hot ash resting on my throbbing penis head. I tried to fling it off but it just laid there. Mistress Scarlett snickered at my attempts. Meanwhile, as if there wasn’t enough pain occurring on my body at that moment, Mistress Megan, behind me, had shifted her tempo and was whaling at my balls with increasing frequency, counting each smack into my worthless sac of sperm. At each jolt of connection between the head of the spoon and my nuts, I screeched out an “AH!” “AH!” “AH! AH!” This continued for about…I don’t have any idea how long, but to me, it was an agonizingly slow hell. Mistress Scarlett continued her ash-flicking torture, changing her focus this time to raise my dick with one hand while laying hot ash right below it with the other, and pressing my dick firmly right back on the ash, thus allowing the burn to go deeper into my tortured penis. When she got tot the end of the cigarette, this time she finished her cigarette off by applying the lit end firmly into one side of my dickhead and holding it steady with the other hand, slowly rotating the cylindrical hot ember and pressing it into my penis flesh. Tears were flowing freely from my eyes as I screamed from the pain. During this time, Mistress Scarlett watched me, grinning evilly at my predicament. I caught this look at one point as I was struggling to reconcile the pain with my mind, and those ice-blues bore into me, mercilessly. Without pity. In fact, those eyes were reflecting simple, cruel delight. “Thirty-one … thirty-two!” Mistress Megan was calmly counting out loud behind me, delivering smacks harshly, and each one, full force to my balls. Between the two sources of pain, I couldn’t discern which was worse. I started to feel like I was passing out from the pain. I wished I had done so by that point, anyway. Mistress Scarlett asked, “Well, I’ve finished with one cigarette over here. Should I light up another one, or, do you want to switch hit now?” she asked Mistress Megan behind me. I was still crying profusely, and making all sorts of pained noises, but when I heard the question about “switch-hitting”, I just groaned at the thought of this torture continuing with Mistress Megan in front of me, and Mistress Scarlett behind me, smacking my balls. I passed out from the thought, and didn’t get to hear Mistress Megan’s response. It was a sweaty Friday evening at the gym again. Everyone was getting their last bit of exercise in before the weekend splurging. The women were looking awesome in their leotards, short-shorts and various other forms of attire that I knew damn well were invented to tease small-minded males such as myself. I had taken to leaving off my underwear or jock-straps at the gym anymore. And, weird though it may seem, I had also gotten in the habit of shaving hair from my crotch area for that added touch of sensitivity. Just a pair of shorts or long sweatpants separated my dick from whatever machine I could conveniently rub against while looking at one goddess after another.
CBT art by Bernard Montogueil You know the type of women I’m talking about…the ones that make my libido go into overdrive at the mere glance, or, if the air happened to luckily blow my way, the mere scent of their perfume or, a peek at the sweaty shirt they were wearing, or…the definition of their arms, or…the outline of their breasts in the shirts as they jogged on the treadmills. Anyway, I was doing a set of lat pull-downs at the machine that was well-positioned as far as mirrors go, and spending half my time counting reps, and the other half secretly looking at the veritable breast-o-rama of the row of women on the StairMaster machines. One girl in particular was just beautiful, with brunette hair and blue eyes. Her face was flushed from her exertion, her gray half-shirt soaked wet, and, from the angle of yet another mirror in the gym, I could see that a line of sweat was running down the crack of her ass, soaking everything in its path. Needless to say, I found it very difficult to complete my sets. Did I say “secretly-looking” before? Well, apparently not. It seems that she had noticed my obvious ogling, and also, the hard- on I had been sporting as a result of her vision because when she finished-up on the StairMaster, she came over to where I was. “Excuse me,” I heard this quiet voice behind me as I pumped on the bicep machine. I turned around and was floored. It was HER, and she was wiping off the sweat around her neck and upper chest, drawing my eyes to those beautiful breasts. “Oh, h-h-h-hi,” I said with a bit of a smile, actually looking at her eyes when I said it. “Do you want to work in?” I asked her. “No, I was just coming over to tell you that I and the other women DO NOT appreciate your fucking stares at our bodies. It’s quite unnerving and very rude,” she said, sharply. “Well, to tell you the truth,” I began, “your body is rather unnerving. It is absolutely fantastic, and your —–”, and I didn’t get a chance to finish what particular body part of hers I was about to throw a compliment about when she stepped close to me and smacked her balled-up fist into my un-protected groin (so much for the idea of never wearing underwear in the gym again). I gasped and put my hand out on the nearest machine to steady my legs. I was bent over at the waist, clutching my midship area. She leaned over to my ear and whispered, “Did you like that, Sweetie? Consider that a down-payment on what you’ve got coming to you. You like my ass? My tits? What part of my body did you mostly think about as you rubbed your worthless prick against the machine?” My eyes opened wide at this and looked at her. “Yeah, I saw you doing that, Asshole. We women are tuned into you males and all the little tricks you pull. Well? What part, dickhead, was your favorite?” She looked at me with those ice- blue eyes, wearing a smirk on her face, but balling up her other hand and making a squeezing motion as to what she intended to next do to my balls if I made her mad. “Uh, I’m so sorry for staring at you. That was wrong and rude and I didn’t mean any harm,” were the first words out of my mouth. “Too damn late for that. You need a good lesson in how to respect women and I’m just the girl who can teach you. Unless, of course, you want me to go to the manager of the gym, a close personal friend of mine AND a woman, by the way, and tell her you’re sexually harassing me and my friends and get your ugly ass kicked-out of here, PERMANENTLY,” she said with emphasis. “Maybe I’ll even call the police on you and have a restraining order put out against you. As a lawyer, I know how to get that done pretty easily. You’ll have a nice, permanent record to contend with. Do you want me to do that, or, do you agree to allow me to teach you manners and how to be respectful of women?” My throat tightened with her threat, and I fully believed she would think nothing of carrying it through. She exuded that confidence of intending to do things to me already with her swat of my balls, so I was not in a position to second-guess her. “I will do whatever you want, Miss…Miss…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” I said. “Yeah, well, you have the MISS-part right, though not entirely. From this point forward, call me ‘Mistress Scarlett’, got it?” “Yes, Mistress Scarlett.” I said, quietly. “Good! I’m gonna hit the showers and meet you at the lobby in about 30 minutes? Be there, or I’ll be headed to the manager’s office instead of to my car. Got it?” she said. “Yes Ma’m,” I said, temporarily forgetting how to address her. She quickly reminded me by raising her left knee and thunking it into my balls, though, I knew, not her full-force capacity. Those legs were way more capable of delivering a lot more, as I would later find out. “Unggghhhhh….,” I gasped, this time kneeling all the way down to the floor. She stepped to position herself between my legs, and very close to my crotch (in case you were wondering about all the other folks in the gym, the gym had pretty much emptied by then). “What was that, Dick *(as in, “dickhead”)? What did you call me?” she sneered, imperiously. I slowly raised my head to look at those ice-blues again and quickly said “I’m sorry Mistress Scarlett. I forgot.” “Yes, I’m sure you did. And, I’m fairly certain you will forget again in my school for respecting women. Consider yourself in school as of this moment. Consider forgetting how to address me properly to have earned you 25 demerits. Counting that little knee I just gave you, you now have 24 demerits left to work- off,” she grinned evily. “Yes, Mistress Scarlett,” I said, weakly. “See you in 30 minutes, slave” she said, walking off. “Yes, Mistress Scarlett,” I said. I hobbled off to the men’s room showers, taking care not to jostle my balls, and when I passed a beautiful woman on the way, I hardly noticed them, except to offer a weak smile in their direction, remembering the last time I looked wrongly at a woman. I showered, shaved, dressed, and was out front, waiting on her in about 20 minutes. She came down the stairs looking absolutely stunning. Her hair was brushed smooth and she was wearing a tank-top with blue jeans and pointy white boots. Through the still-throbbing ache of my balls, I felt a little stir in my groin at the sight of her and how sexy she looked. I also realized that my lust was going to cost and cause me a lot more deserved pain before she was through with me. “Hi!” she said, spying me on the sofa. “Give me a hug,” she said, gaily. Surprised though I was, I stood up and she wrapped her arms around me tightly, shifting just so as to position her right knee to brush the underside of my pants crotch with it. I winced, which she caught, and she grinned and winked at me. “You have your car here, right? Why don’t you follow me to my house, okay,” she asked, as if I had a choice in the matter at all. “Yes, Mistress Scarlett,” I said to her, in a quiet voice. She took note of that and nodded approvingly. “Good, you’re learning, slave,” she said. “Let’s go!” she said, walking out. The drive took us about 25 minutes to get to her house. A lot of winding backroads and finally a gravel road took us to who- knows-where. I certainly didn’t recognize the neighborhood and would have gotten quite lost had I not had her in front of me. Anyway, we finally pulled up to a huge house. She parked in the circular driveway, and I pulled behind her. She got out and pointed to a garage behind me. “Park it in there,” she directed, and get your ass inside,” she ordered, with a voice, I noted, that was no longer cheerful towards me. I parked as she directed and went into her house. “This is the ‘nice-people’ area,” she said, sweeping her arm around the huge foyer and gesturing upstairs. “We won’t be holding class up here. Instead, let me show you the basement, where all of your lessons will be taught. Follow me,” she said curtly, walking towards a doorway leading down a set of stairs. I was still hoping that maybe she wasn’t as serious as she sounded in the gym and wasn’t going to follow-through on her plans for me. She must have read my mind because she stopped at the doorway and turned to me and said “Yes, slave, I’m very serious about this, and just as serious about what I said I’d do if you didn’t do exactly as I said. In fact, since you’re here now, I’ll simply tell the police that you were waiting for me when I came home and tried to rape me. How’s that for serious, slave?” she asked, her eyes narrowed in my direction. I gulped and said, “Mistress Scarlett, please, I’ll do what you say, don’t call the police,” and I started moving very quickly to the doorway down to the basement. She turned and walked down the stairs with me quickly behind. We walked through a hallway and she stopped at a small room. “This is the bathroom the original plans called for but the dumbass architect forgot that the sewer line was seven feet above the floor level and I didn’t want to mess with a pump to get the shit out of here. Maybe you’ll be able to help me solve that problem later on,” she said, walking away. I furrowed my brow and couldn’t figure out what she was talking about. I wasn’t an engineer or a plumber. I shrugged it off and followed her into a larger room. This was a huge room with a refrigerator in one corner, two comfy-looking leather sofas, a variety of chairs, a table and some exercise equipment of various types on one side of the room. Stationary bike, treadmill, free-weight rack with various dumbbells, some weight machines with pulleys and a sit-up machine. A closet was situated near the refrigerator, along with a tool cabinet, and in the middle of the room, what appeared to be a crude replica of some old fashioned-stocks from age-old centuries. There were some other things I didn’t immediately recognize also in the corner. She looked at me as I took it all in. “Yes!” she laughed. “This is MY dungeon, slave, complete with every exercise torture device ever offered on late-night TV. I’m fairly certain we’ll be able to use some of the equipment to help you in your school lessons,” she said, again with that evil grin. I nodded, bewildered at whatever she could possibly be implying. She walked back to where I was standing and said “take off all of your clothes and put them in that garbage bag,” she said, motioning to a roll of them. I didn’t hesitate, stripping off all clothes as she ordered, and stuffing them into a bag. She picked-up the bag, tied it off and threw it in a corner of the room. “Forget you have clothes here, slave,” she ordered. “You won’t be needing them this weekend.” “Yes, Mistress Scarlett, ” I said, automatically. “Hmm,” she said, looking at my crotch. “Gee, slave, you certainly don’t look as horny as you were in the gym when you were looking at my body on the stair machine. Wonder what’s wrong? Am I not attractive anymore to you?” she asked with a mischievous look in her eyes. “Oh no, Mistress Scarlett. You’re very beautiful,” I quickly answered her. She nodded and said, “Well, I’m going to give you a little treat then,” and lifted-up her tank-top in one swift motion to expose, not bra-entwined breasts, but full, naked, bouncing breasts with suckable nipples crowning each of them. My mouth went agape. They were even more beautiful than I imagined from the gym. My cock instantly bounced-up its approval with a quickly growing hard-on…a mistake I was quickly made aware of. She watched my dick grow quickly from the southern-pointing direction to horizontal inside of 15 seconds and quickly put her shirt down, covering-up her breasts from my view. She glared at me. “Did I give you permission to get a hard-on in my presence, SLAVE???” she yelled at me. “N-n-n-n-no, Mistress Scarlett. I’m sorry,” I said, hastily, now realizing what she intended. I tried to force my hard-on to go away by thinking of unattractive women I has seen before, but got caught back up in the thinking of Mistress Scarlett’s breasts again. Too late. She stepped-up to me and pointed at my still throbbing dick, and said “I see your balls need another lesson in the respect of women.” I cringed at what was coming next, but attempted to brace for the path of her arching kick. Her boot caught me full in the balls, which were on the small side to begin with, but had been trying to crawl back into my body in a desperate attempt to escape the impending onslaught of her toe-boot. No luck. I yelled in agony and went down hard, covering my quickly swelling nuts. I rolled around on the floor, trying to keep from throwing-up. She stood above me triumphantly. “Well, how’s that hard-on now, slave?” she asked. “Show it to me. Move your hands out of the way,” she said, reaching down to see for herself. My balls were aching badly, but I still had a bit of an attention-getting hard-on, much to her’s and my surprise. “Hmmm maybe it’s not your balls that need a lesson, but your dick, huh, slave?” she asked, rhetorically, because she wasn’t expecting an answer from me anyway. “Get up, slave” she said, reaching in-between my legs and pushing my hands aside to grip my sore balls herself. She squeezed and pulled me onto my knees and dragged me over to the stocks device, ignoring my yelps and moans. She told me to kneel in front of the stocks and got on the other side of the device so as to have better access to the locks. I then noticed that these stocks were slightly different in that there was a hole at the bottom of the contraption that seemed to line-up with my groin area. She reached down to that exact location and unlocked the hole, exposing a kind of cradle that extended outwards. “Put your dick through that hole and place it on the support,” she ordered, pointing at the cradle. I shuffled my knees forward and stuck my still-throbbing dick where she told me. “Move all of the way forward until your knees are flush against the bottom. Sit up on your knees straight and push yourself forward until your dick is extended all the way in, ” she directed me. I complied, though doing it gingerly so as to not risk bouncing my testicles anymore than I needed to. She walked around behind me and said “Lift up your arms above your head and reach high.” She then snapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists and said “Don’t move, slave.” She got a ladder and used it to reach for something in the ceiling. It was a hook attached to a rope attached to a pulley which was attached to a floor joist. The other end of the rope also had a hook on it and was brought down to a level a little above my waist. She walked over to the tool cabinet and extracted some rubber bands and a small length of clothesline cord. She walked back to where I was kneeling, arms still above my head. She reached-up and hooked the handcuffs to the uppermost hook and then leaned down to grab my nutsack behind me. I let out a yelp of pain to which she answered with “Honey, you don’t know what pain is yet,” and laughed out loud. She doubled-up on the rubberbands and slipped them over my balls and wrapped the clothesline around them firmly, making and pulling a slipknot tight around them. She then yanked my balls up and lined the clothesline up with the crack of my ass and tied it to the other hook from the ceiling, with no slack in the cord. I now could not bring my arms down for fear of ripping off my already tortured balls. She stepped back and looked at her handiwork. She walked around in front of me, and pulled-up a chair to sit right in front of me and my dick. She walked back over to the tool cabinet and retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She sat down in front of me with a satisfied smile. “Well, well, well. You are now in quite the predicament, aren’t you, slave? Can’t bring your arms down, and if you try to back your dick out of it’s slot, you will also place pressure on your balls,” she said, clucking her tongue in fake sympathy. “Well, now I think you’ve deserved a longer look at my tits, so, I’m going to give it to you,” she said, taking off her tank top in one motion and throwing it in my surprised face. The shirt fell away to reveal those awesome breasts again for my eyes. She spread her legs in the chair but did not take off her jeans, giving me that little “Uh-uh, no pussy yet, little man” look. My dick started throbbing immediately, much to my chagrin, but Mistress Scarlett gave a surprising answer to it. “It’s okay, slave. This time, I want that dick as hard as you can get it. Really” she said, reaching for the cigarette pack and extracting one. She flicked the lighter and lit it and took a big drag on it. “Yeah, I know, these are bad for me, but I exercise and eat well, so, one bad habit is okay. For me, anyway. Not so much for you, probably, huh?” she asked. I was about to respond when she suddenly leaned forward and flicked the hot ash directly onto the head of my dick. I screamed at the sudden heat applied. I also jerked my dick back in response to the pain and promptly experienced the yank on my nuts from above, causing me to jam my dick back into the hole… whereupon it ran right back into the hot end of her cigarette, which she apparently positioned because she anticipated my reaction perfectly. I screamed even louder than before because suddenly I was touching the raw heat of the cigarette and begged her, “Please, PLEASE, NO! Take it away! I’ll do anything you want, Mistress Scarlett! AGHHHHHHHH!” She just smiled and calmly removed the heat, but only to take another drag, and she put that end of the cigarette right back down to flick the ash back onto the dick, but this time, the foreskin got burned. I gritted my teeth and held my dick in place, suffering the slow cooling of the ash as it burned it’s heat away on my dick. “So, how do my tits look now, slave?” Mistress Scarlett asked, winking at me. “Great, Mistress Scarlett,” I whimpered. “Yeah, I see that, slave. Your dick is still hard,” she responded, shaking her head. “I can see you’re going to be a tough student to train, slave, but, it’ll be worth it to tame that lust of yours.” I was crying now from the pain of the hot ash and singeing I got from the lit end. She continued to smoke and flick the ash onto and around all of my exposed dick, and my dick remained hard as a rock throughout the torture. She was getting near the end of the cigarette, took one look at my dick, took one look at the rest of her cigarette. She got up, and without warning, lifted my dick up and shoved the cigarette underneath it, then mashed it down on top of the still- lit cigarette. I screamed at the unbelievable onrush of pain as she used her hands to mash the underside of my penis onto the lit cigarette, crushing it out. “There, wasn’t that special” she sneered, observing my drained look and anguish on my face. Oh, god, my dick hurt, and, it wasn’t throbbing too much anymore. The red-hot heat quelled the sex interest pretty much right away. She was breathing hard from obvious lust at causing and seeing me suffer, and I was breathing hard from the agony of having a burnt cock. Then, she reached over and extracted a second cigarette to light it up. My eyes opened in amazement and horror because there appeared to be a lot more in store for me. Just then, I also heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and a female voice that called out, “Yoo-hoo! Scarlett! Are ya down here?” “Yes, can’t you hear my new trainee’s screams of pain up there?”, Scarlett responded to this new woman. They both laughed out loud at that one and I realized something worse was likely coming into my future. To be continued …
I never really thought about the type of Mistress that I would like or that would fit with my personality because of two things. First, is the scarcity of women that will even consider D/s, and second, is the fact that I am not drawn to or attracted by a person who simply cracks a whip and screams. To me once you agree to be submissive and the Mistress agrees in turn to her role then you have agreed to please the Mistress even if it hurts you or makes you uncomfortable you comply to please the Mistress and in turm her pleasure pleases you. I also have to opinion that true Domming is more than pure sadism, but is more a mental thing. A good Mistress can manipulate a sub and use a sub’s fetishes and weakeness and desires against him to control him. So when I met Lady Sadiste online and heard she was into cd but not really a sadist, I was intrigued. I thought of my fantasies and some of the things I have done before. I never really tried cd but thought it might be interesting. I am not a closest cd or even remotely close to looking like a women. I had never tried it also because other Dommes I met were never into it. I also probably would not respond to the ultimatum get dressed like a women or I will beat your ass. Consequently when I first actually met Her, I did not know what to expect, but being in a situation where I had not been able to meet any real Dommes willing to try real time Domination for some time I thought I would give it a try. I was being trained by Her in some fashion via email—in fact much of the training was related to psychological exercises to increase my sense of well being. I did not mind this at all. I sensed that there was a method to the madness and, in any event, what harm could it do? I knew very little about Her – most from Her profile on alt.com. Blonde hair gray eyes—likes leather clothes. This was not much to go on, but I met her at the resturant and we had a leisurely drink and the she asked if I would join her at her place four a couple of hours. I had enjoyed the conversation and thought what she meant by the word join. Well I will tell you that she had a semi conservative black leather skirt –white silk blouse and high heels—and her mannner was very affectionate. I thought of what I had to do that afternoon for about a split second and quickly blew it off saying I would love to join Her. She had a well kept utilitarian type of place. She strode briskly in the doorway and suggested I have a seat on the couch. She then sat next to me even closer than I had anticipated or, at that time, was comfortable. Soon I was almost mesmerized by Her lips and Her perfume. I found myself serving Her wine and scurrying around lighting scented candles dimming the lights. I returned to couch and sat down –She smiled a wicked smile and moved closer beginning what was one of the most insanely intense interrogations I have ever witnessed—yet it was so gentle sweet and demure. I was in a daze so I cannot remember exactly what occurred, but She expertly inquired as to my fantasies, my sexual experience and conduct including prior Mistresses. She had access to a questioniare I filled out on these topics, but probed so much deeper. She began to stroke my hair and touch my with such kindness, that I poured out my whole heart and soul—my deepest darkest thoughts fantasies and emotions. She began slowly to unbutton my shirt – touching my nipples asking how it felt. Soon I had been manipulated to laying in my underwear –my head on her leather lap and Her hand delving into my erogenious zones while She continued to ask how I felt—what are my fetishes ect.. I was very embarassassed by my erection, but what could I do—She knew how to manipulate even that by Her words and touch. It was at this time that she pulled out a large purse or bag which was kept from my direct sight. This is what I best can describe as phase two of the interrogation. “We would’nt want you losing that nice erection and messing up the couch” She said. Like a lemming I nodded “uh Uh.” Soon a device with rather tight leather was in place on my genitals which – I soon found out would accomplish Her desires, and allow Her to proceed with Her inquiry. By now I was weak and pliable—soon she was testing me as to all types of perverse fetishes. She would have me touch, feel and smell Her panties asking inquiring, “Do you like how the feel?” “mmmm they smell sooo good?” She would the wrap the panties around my erection and stroke slowly causing it to strain against the cock device. Yes there then was nylons and similar kind inquiries requests from her regarding what I thought and how it felt. I remember Her putting the nylons on my cock causing it to strain through the mesh as She slowly tighten the nylons. This was followed by a wide variety of items—leather gloves pressed tightly over my face then against my throbbing penis. Rubber gloves both latex and surgical—all types of Women’s lingerie girdles to garters. She then began asking about how I liked them—She had me stand up and lifted her skirt and let me she how her garters and panties looked on her. She pulled me close with my cock and slipped it between her garter and leg letting me almost hump her leg – I would not do this, but simply moaned with pleasure. Soon we had progressed to her legs and feet and high heels all were similiarly employed to stimulate my mind, my desires and my manhood. Those moments I spent at her feet or with my lips on her panties and my head under her leather skirt will always be remembered. It all seemed so natural so innocent and so much fun. By then end she knew more about me than I think I know sitting here today writing this account. Next –I guess you might call it phase three. I somehow remember being manipulated into her bathroom coaxed to take a nice warm bath. Soon I was naked soaking in sweet smelling water with with soft music playing and scented candles burning in a dimly lit room. She appeared in a white satin robe still wearing her white bra and panties garter and nylons underneath. “How are we doing here?” She asked—”um ok” I managed—had I fallen asleep—was this dream –how did I arrive here? She took off here robe and knelt down to bathe me—I somehow felt juviniele and embarrassed –probably because no woman had ever bathe me except when I was a boy. Well I was gently washed and very relaxed despite the cock holding device which strained against my penis. I soon was standing and allowing some sweet smelly lotion to be applied. I was kindly told it would make my skin smooth and soft—I did not give that much thought but stood obediantly and stared and Her thinking of how I loved to hear her happy voice squeel little nicieties things like “oooh I am soo excited you like sthe mell of my panties” “we’ll make sure you get a lot of that fragrance” I raised my arms over my head at her request and soon found them bound to the solid steel shower rod and she out of the mist appeared with razor and cream to eliminate the balance of my pubic hair—it was then I noticed that all other body hair was floating in the tub. I remember her gentle touch against my now shaven scrotum the smooth erotic scratching of her luscious finger nails. Well there was more washing and rinsing an new tub was drawned and I soaked in a daze for a while longer. She broke the haze of fogginess with her gentle yet firm instruction to move down into the tub more. I complied and then notice her latex medical gloved and a large enema bag. Yes I was relaxed but still resisted the probing violation of my backside. With some coaxing I lay there on my back, belly bloating taking the solution. “like a good boy” She said as she massaged my stomach and played with my hairless penis. I soon went through the inevitable process and was once again relaxing feeling much better in the tub—well I was certainly clean. I was helped out slowly and purposely tried not to look in the mirror to see my hairless self, but caught a glimpse and started to panic, but soon realized she was drying me and I need to urinate. Thank God for some urges. I asked if she would leave to let me take care of business. “nonsense !” was her reply “I will assist you” Well she did. She quickly undid the cock strap held my penis and ordered me to go. Had I not really had to go badly, I would have not been able to muster even a squirt, but soon I was going as instructed. She deftly stopped the flow midway through and had me sit and the directed my boner downward to complete its task. She then had me stand up and she took my place and she pulled me close by my hairless prick as if to make me look at her while she peed too. Soon I was wiping her while on my knees and a new cock device was being snapped into place. I somehow found this last toilet sequence to be a singularly erotic experience without explanation. I suppose I should have suspect what was in store for me, but I dumbly slipped on the women’s satin robe as it was handed to me with much thought. I did not think of the gender of the garment, but only of how soft it felt on my body. I was led to her bedroom. I wish I could explain in some logical fashion how from point A to point B I had traveled, but like so many things in nature it just can’t be explained. I was seated on the couch fully clothed and now I am bound on her bed with a wonderfully tight girdle and panty hose on with specially designed holes for my cock and balls to protrude and for access to my hairless anus. I t was not that I felt less of a man, but more of a widening of experience. Yes I reveled in the gleam in her eyes when she told me how nice I looked in the under garments or how proud she was that I was taking a larger butt plug or dildoe. I made her happy to be her sub, slave or whatever you might call it. It was all done with gentle teasing she had me there and used me for her pleasure gently causing me to endure more and more –the reward her happiness and perhaps some more stimulation. I dutifully accepted the penis gag with protuding dildoe and she rode my face to near exhustion. She tempted teased and cajoled until I hand on more women’s lingerie. I was not allowed to orgasm because of her cock device. So when she released it and held me gently and stroked I exploded in her hand like I never did before. It was not some earth shattering hanging from the ceiling orgasm but a profoundly lovely simply gentle and imensly intimate one. There I was hairless in sexy panties bra and garters the smooth nylons ran up my legs She stroked my cock gently as I spasmed. I looked in the mirror and saw not a pitiful sight but one that was strikingly beautiful scene. I wanted to be her pantyboy slave and please her. I would soon find out how to serve her and her female friends in many more ways. I could not wait to find out what things she had in store for me. Serving at a party, a photo shoot, latex leather, bondage, shopping, ect… I awoke dressed as before laying on Her sweet smelling bed to her gentle laugh teasing me, “Wake up sleepy head”. My eyes opened and and I slowly peered over the cock device holding my now once again erect penis perpendicular to my prone body. I saw and felt a cool white latex gloved hand spread my cheeks and slip into my anus. “Relax Honey,” she said I took a deep breath resigned to accept it –in fact excited to please her—focusing on her lovely face and teeth as she proceeded to probe me –first with one then two fingers and when it begin to hurt or tighten, she wuold use her other hand to stroke my cock to take my mind off of it. Soon I was humping her hand like some deranged nympho in a porno movie and grunting trying to cum. That’s it that’s it she said and then with great alacrity replaced her hand with what I found out to be an inflatable vibrating butt plug. “oh Daddy is going to fuck you real good” she said. I did not even think what that comment meant being distracted be the inflation and her testing the vibrating effect to my dismay. She was happy it worked and had the desired effect. I knew I had a submissive nature but she said she wanted to bring out my feminine side—I thought that an ex-jock is not going to make a pretty woman, but part of the process is not that per se, but of accepting and letting her do theses things to me for her happiness. Maybe this is how I view subbing also. I liked accepting her sweet tortures—they turned me on—they energized me and stimulated my sex drive. Had I not been under her diligent supervision –I would have had a legnthly jerk off session, but with the cock controller I could not cum and knew that it was for her to control. I did not mind this—some people think that males or sub males will not give up there lonely fun in lieu of having a true Mistress control their cock and balls. Not me I was happy, more happy than I I had been in a long time and had no problem allowing her to take control— While I enjoy certain cbt and like the Mistress to do to me while I accept her evil plans—I have also served like a slave getting wine, baths , massages ect. She also knew I worked a sues chef at a five star resturant, so when she said she was having a party and would really like it if I would cook and get to meet some of her friends, I agreed. Little did I know the circumstances of the dinner party. She was so happy I agreed she released my cock and quickly stroked it while grabbing my balls and gently squeezing—this combined with the plug caused me to cum very quickly—she just gave me a partly evil –partly amused grin and cleaned me up and rebound my cock after harding it again. I told her I would cook whatever she wanted. She told me I have to get dressed first. I looked for my clothes while sitting on the edge of the bed. She returned with new gloves and what appeared to be some medical instruments. She knelt between my legs and stimulated my penis again playfully—then soon I saw her gently force the sound or dilation device down my penis head until it almost disappeared—first there was the discomfort, then the felling of having to urinate. She quickly taped it in placeso just the tip was secured to my cockhead. I lost my thoguht of looking for my clothes and soon found myself accepting a ballgag in my mouth and being led to the bathroom. I knelt as requested by the toilet and once again watched her sit and begin to urinate. I was mesmerrized looking at the parting of her lips. She must have saw that and soon stopped the flow and ushered me quickly to the tub where I lay in lingerie and all my orifices plugged. She smiled sweetly and then released the balance of her bladder to my surprise all over my prone body moving the spray to ensure good coverage. When completed I sat up and wiped my face –she knelt down the stroked my cheek—saying “there there that is what you wanted—isn’t it. I nodded—she always knew what I wanted. Well I was stripped out of my wet clothes and we showered together and soon was in her vanity chair “being made up” or perhaps I should say “maid” up for the party. Yes I was still gagged and she flitted around me –so nice so feminine I just relaxed and enjoyed her attentions. Now I had never liked or had a maid fetish no did I think the costumes were that sexy, but she had a special one for me. My mind reeled full of thoughts—what would I cook , who would attend the party, what would take place? I hoped she would tell me, but was in no position to ask. I hoped some of her friends were Mistresses as I have always thought that 2 or more Dommes when they get together are very creatively more cruel than one. It has been a fantasy of mine too. Now what new sissy costume would she put me in? |
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