Mistress Locks Up His Penis
She stroked me to waken and reminded me she hadn’t let me cum last night, or the one before, or for a long time. “How long has it been since you’ve cum?”
“6 1/2 weeks I said.” She took my balls gently and asked again more firmly, “Do not lie to me. I want the truth. Have you really been completely chaste all this time?” “Yes Ma’am, I have really.” I pleaded.
“I know you play with it all the time. I know you get hard during the night and I’ve seen your hands move toward playing with it with me right next to you. You don’t really think I believe it’s an accident when you “find yourself” between my legs do you? It’s not, IS IT?”
“No Ma’am,” I pleaded when she squeezed my balls hard. She released with an order to get out of bed, get her coffee and bring it back with her hairbrush. I started to say something but resigned myself, this was what we’d agreed to. I had asked her what she thought of Femdom and when she admitted it intrigued her, I confessed my secret yearning for it. In one evening a few months ago I went from casually asking her opinion to begging for her dominance and pledging myself to her discipline.
She nodded to the nightstand and I set her coffee there. Propping her back up on pillows, she held out her open hand for me to hand over her hairbrush. Ordering me to kneel on the bed in front of her, she raised her knees and used one foot to tease my penis to a fast hardon.
“I know you haven’t cum and I appreciate your honest effort Sweetie, but to tell the truth I’m not completely satisfied. Are you?” “Yes Ma’am i am because…” “SHUSH!”, she cut me off, “Yes Ma’am or no Ma’am will be sufficient. And another thing, stop moving and rolling your hips around at me. You are not playing with my foot, I am playing with your penis. Is that understood?” To which I began a long series of Yes-Ma’ams.
“Do you want to do as you’re told? Do you think you can? I doubt it, you’re hard right now and you are under specific orders not to get hard without asking permission, right? Listen Sweetie, when I told you I wanted to control all of your sexual pleasure and make you dependent on me for all of it, you begged me-BEGGED me to make your penis my slave. You recall? Did you mean it? I thought so and fyi, I like having a penis slave and have no intention of ever giving it up. You like that thought don’t you? Yes, it would seem so by its response.”
“Did you use the rest room while you got my coffee?” she asked matter of factly. I had. “Well I didn’t. Lean over and you can be my toilet again this morning. Do-not-spill-a-drop-understand!” This new twist was getting more habitual, and I was pretty sure she intended to keep on using me for her toilet on a a fairly frequent basis. Two things were obvious. She was getting more and more sadistic in her sense of dominant degradation and I was sinking deeper and deeper into humility before her. Which I guess is what we wanted.
She finished and ordered me back to my knees. “Now, before we get back to my hairbrush all over your bottom for last night, here’s what I’ve decided to do about your penis from now on. Since you can’t or won’t control your erections, I’m going to go ahead and lock it up.”
“I’ll be using a real cage that will never even allow erection while you’re in it. It’s a real lock and a real key and I will have it and you won’t. The rules are getting simpler. Your behavior has landed you in penis prison. Once I lock you in, your only way out will be when I’m in the mood to tease you. And from now on, your penis will truly be my slave because every time I unlock it, your hands will be cuffed behind you. You will never be able to play with yourself. My hands will be the only hands you feel and the ones you’ll go crazy begging for.”
“Oh Sweetie I know! I see it in your face. I know you’re scared about submission you can’t escape. I know you want it too. I can tell by the way your loins are almost gasping for breath. Do you want to cum right now. Go ahead, this will be your last…Don’t touch…No…I won’t either. This is your last chance if you want to cum go ahead…
…Okay Sweetie that’s enough…I love you for trying but that’s ok. I’ll take care of your penis from now on. Now I want you to lie on your back and eat me while I put this on you. You’ll have to lose that erection or I’ll have to use these hairbrush bristles to get rid of it for you.
Submissive males, slave men and their Domme’s whip.
Some crave whippings badly and seek only the most sadistic women. Some masochists are so insatiable that they are never satisfied. These often join the ranks of smart-assed masochists. Some are willing to risk being maimed for that pain they believe will be the greatest experience of their lives.
Man submissive men fear the lash. They don’t eroticize pain. Lucky ones serve a woman who only whips men when the deserve punishment. Or use other nonphysical punishments. Should he worship a sadistic woman surrendering to her pleasure in cruelty may be a constant challenge to his capacity for submission.
Fortunately most submissive guys’ sadomasochistic orientation isn’t so polarized.
She’s waiting for her submissive boyfriend to come home when she’ll have fun using her whip on him.
Mistress Wife (Girlfriend) ties up her submissive husband (boyfriend) before giving him a strong dose of corporal punishment with a rod of birches.
Linda had been my girlfriend since seventh grade. I loved her so much. I’d do anything for her.
.I’d never pressured to have sex with me. And I’d held myself pure for her sake.
It hadn’t been easy. And it was getting worse. That was one reason I decided to propose to her.
I was still on my knees waiting to her here response. She smiled down at me.
“What a good boy you are Eddie. I figured it wouldn’t be long before you did the right thing.”
Figuring that meant yes I started to rise. She pressed the back of my neck, holding me down and told me to wait.
She went to her dressing table and brought back a small box.
“I’ll wear your engagement ring if you’ll wear this for me.”
“Sure, whatever you want,” I never could refuse her anything.
I thought she’d show me a ring but it was a jumble of plastic and metal.
“I know you mean to always be true to me. But a girl has to make sure. This is a chastity belt for a man. You will lock yourself up and I will hold the key.”
I was stunned. This wasn’t what I expected.
“I know you masturbate. Don’t blush. You are a male and can’t help it. But if I am to be your wife you should save it all for me.”
We couldn’t possibly marry for a couple of years!
“Will you do this for me. Don’t worry, when my husband and are well behaved I’m sure to let you out at least once every month or two. Probably at least a couple of times on our honeymoon. Don’t you want to do this for me?”
I never could say no to her. Not even now.
Originally posted 2008-05-11 16:16:41.
The woman has begun to feel that the relationship with her boyfriend is getting serious. The time has come to see if the young male can accept the discipline she would enforce on any man that she married or lived with.
Taking him over her lap she begins a test hand spanking. If he responds properly she will give him a talk about gender roles and his place in any relationship with a dominant woman.
If he rebels against the spanking, she will no longer date him. She can’t waste time on an unacceptable man who does not know his place.
Submissive Sissymaid’s Discipline
See more F/m sissy drawings by HunnyB.
I awake with a start. As I regain consciousness I become aware of my surroundings. I am in Mistress Megan’s bedroom, the evening sky darkening the room as the light fades. I am seated in a straight back chair, tightly bound to it with clothes line wrapped below my bust and around my waist. My hands are locked behind me in steel cuffs. My legs are tied together at the ankle and below the knee with lengths of nylon cut from Megan’s discarded stockings. More rope binds my shins to the bracing between the chair legs.
My legs feel sleek in my own nylon stockings, my torso hugged by the comfortable Lycra grip of a long-line bra. The bra cups are filled out by breast forms that stretched the material tight and pressed against my nipples, tender and sore from Megan’s clamps. My cheeks are sore also, throbbing dully under the girdle I wore beneath my lacy white slip.
I lick my lips and tasted the gloss upon them. I recall that I had applied lipstick and gloss as part of the makeup ritual Megan has taught me. My nostrils detect the light smoky scent of perfume, the one that Megan had purchased for me at Macy’s.
I glance up and see my blue and white waitress uniform on its hanger, the apron draped across the shoulder. I had worn this dress several hours today, from the time I came home from my job at the bank until about an hour or so ago when I was bound to the chair. I had worn my lingerie and nylon stockings all day at work. My suit pants covered my girdle and hose, its jacket concealing the bra which would be so visible through a white shirt. I wore socks over my stockings, but sometimes, if I wore dark stockings, I left the socks off and hoped the other girls at the bank didn’t notice my leg wear, visible between the hem of the pant leg and the top of the shoe was a little bit too shear for men’s socks!
Megan has me wear the waitress dress and apron as I perform my daily chores about the house, vacuuming the floors, scrubbing the tile and porcelain, washing windows, doing her laundry, ironing her blouses and skirts along with a hundred other chores to serve Her. Although some chores such as the dishes, laundry and cooking are done daily, each day of the week my chores are focused on a particular part of the house. Mondays were the bedrooms and hall; Tuesdays were the bathroom and laundry room. As today was Wednesday, I was assigned to clean the kitchen. Once I had washed all the dishes and counter surfaces, Megan had me on my knees, scrubbing the marble tiled floor until it shone.
To ensure a submissive disposition as I worked, Megan locks steel shackles with a short length of chain on my ankles and wrists. Although this shortens my stride and can make carrying things awkward, I never forget my place as I work. Megan also carry’s a riding crop with her to encourage my efforts should my energy slacken. When my chores for the day are complete, Megan has me bind myself to the chair in her bedroom. She used to tie the ropes and nylons around me herself, but later found it more convenient for me to tie myself up. Over the last year, I have become quiet skillful in self bondage. Once I have bound myself, She tests the tightness of the ropes, and woe unto me if there is slack in them! When she is satisfied with the rope-work, She will snap the cuffs on me and then leaves the room. She typically leaves me here for a couple of hours, ‘parked’ as She calls it, as She runs errands, talks to Her girlfriends on the phone, reads her mail or watches TV. She likes her time alone, with me safely tied up out of the way and not underfoot.
Sometimes she will leave the TV on for me to pass the time watching soap operas or a “chic flick” like Steel Magnolias. Megan calls this feminine education. She wants me to watch the girls in the film for insights into the correct mannerisms and comportment for a woman. She may also put on a Mozart CD for me to ‘enjoy’ while I wait her, but more on that later. When Megan’s mood is foul, Megan may tie a blind fold on me and/or duct tape my mouth shut.
The chair faces a full length mirror. As I pass my time in confinement, I have the opportunity to see myself in my current predicament. In my lingerie, makeup and styled hair, I see a young girl, bound and helpless. I must admit, the image I see does turn me on! Despite the helplessness of my current predicament and a feeling a bid of dread as I wait for the ordeal to come, I feel certain contentment as I awaited my Mistress. I feel a stirring between my legs that reminds me that I actually enjoy my position of servititude.
After a while though, my bondage becomes uncomfortable as the rope dig into my chest and waist. My arms become stiff from being pinned behind me and the tight heels on my feet pinch my feet as well. Yet I was in no real hurry for Megan to return. My pinched nipples and sore cheeks reminded me of the treatment I will experience upon Her return. Megan makes careful notes while I work, thoroughly noting the time it takes to complete each task and the degree of cleanliness of each surface and item to which I had attended. For every task that had taken longer than it’s budgeted time and for every chore not completed to Her level of satisfaction, I would have to answer for, submitting to Her whip, crop or paddle.
Glancing about the room, I see the various stations where I will be bound for the upcoming discipline session. Megan will vary the whipping ritual, as She likes to keep Her discipline sessions from becoming routine. Most often She will place my wrists in leather cuffs locked to chains hung from the gables of the dormer in her bedroom. Stripped down to my bra and panties, my back and buns are exposed to he crop, whip or cane. To keep me from moving around to much while being whipped, she’ll tie my legs together at the knee and ankle, linking the ankle bond to a hook in the floor.
Megan’s next favorite torture position is the footstool. On these occasions, she will have me kneel over her footstool, stripped again to the panties and bra with legs bound, and hands cuffed behind the back. She will place a leather collar around my neck and clip it to a hook on the stool to keep me in place while being lashed. When Megan is in a hurry, either pressed for time, or just too eager to administer pain, she’ll simply strip me and cuff my hands to the clothes bar in the closet. Sometimes she’ll also lock me in the closet for ‘parking’, and I can spend my time alone with her pretty dresses, and the scent of Her that they carry.
Today, Megan has ordained a heavy sentence of twenty lashes; three for taking an extra twelve minutes to complete scrubbing the kitchen floor, four for missing dust in the corner of a cabinet, three for neglecting to bow and curtsy as She passed, and most serious, ten for having a runner in my stockings, a serious misstep. Megan was so angry when she saw the tear! She scolded me for being so careless with my appearance and my clothing, which was, after all, a gift from her. She was also furious that I took over ten minutes to change into a new pair. I was tempted to reply that some of the ten minutes was taken up in undoing my ankle shackles to remove the pantyhose, but I have learned it is not wise to talk back to Her when I am being corrected! As it was, She assessed ten stokes with the riding crop summarily and another ten added to evening’s discipline session yet to come.
No matter how many strokes are assigned in the sentence however, Megan invariably adds many more. She takes great pleasure in administering discipline. The act of striking a man with a whip or cane causes an arousal in Her, and as Her slave, it is my role to cheerfully absorb this punishment for her pleasure.
I hear the clack of stiletto heels on the floor! My heart races as they near the bedroom. The door opens. There she stands before me in all her terrible beauty. “Hello, Cissy.” She greets me with a pat on the head, “Are you happy to see me Cissy?” She asks playfully.
“Yes, Mistress Megan.” I answer. “I am very happy to see you.”
“Well,” She’ll laugh as she fingers the whips and paddles on the rack on the wall, “We’ll see how happy you are in a few minutes!”
Megan has a ritual for which She uses to prepare herself to administer a whipping. First, she kicks off her shoes and shed her clothes, leaving them in the hamper for me to wash tomorrow. Then she dresses for the occasion.
Sometimes, Megan will have girlfriends over for a party, and the festivities may include a long drawn out discipline session with me or another slave as the sacrificial victim. Then, Megan and her friends may dress in leather miniskirts, bustiers, boots and other traditional dominatrice attire. However, for routine daily domestic discipline such as this evening, Megan prefers Victoria’s Secret type bedroom wear. She’ll put on some comfortable lingerie, like a teddy or silk night gown. Whatever She wears, she’ll top it off with a matching gauzy jacket, tied it at her waist. She has a few pairs of high heels she uses for these sessions, usually open back mules with a fuzzy tuft of cotton.
Seeing her so attired, I admire her beauty. The elegant features of her face, her flawless skin, golden hair, generous bosom, sleek waist and long legs make her the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. No man, I realize, could resist her demands, even if it means placing himself at her cruel mercies.
Megan completes her preparation with a spray of perfume, the special tangy one she uses only for these sessions. As the scent of it fills my nostrils, I am only too well reminded of the injury and pain I will shortly feel and am filled with a combination of horror and excitement as I realize once again what this charming, beautiful and evil woman has in store for me!
Megan un-cuffs me and has me untie the ropes fixing me to the chair. She has me shed my slip and bra, leaving me back exposed to feel her whip. She also instructs me to untie the nylons on my legs and to lose the pantyhose and girdle. Thus, my cheeks will also be a target for her paddle or cane.
Suspension is to be the order of the evening. Megan has me stand me upon a small wooden step and reach my arms up. She’ll places my wrists into leather cuffs and fix them to the chains hanging from the bolts in the ceiling. The step is then removed, and I hang by the wrists, able only to support myself by standing on my toes, but tonight Megan feels generous and she allows me to wear my heels.
She then binds my legs above the knee and at the ankle with Her nylons, and the ankle bond is tied to a hook in the floor. Megan doesn’t like to strike her whip at a ‘moving target’, and by fixing me legs in place She prevents me from moving around too much while I receive her beating. She finishes preparing me by fastening nipple clamps on me so I have something to think about while I await her. Sometimes if she’s angry (or not) she’ll put the blind fold and gag on me as well.
Megan then lights about a dozen candles around the room to set up a soft light. She places a CD in the player for background music. Her favorite is Mozart. I have received hundreds of lashes over the last two years all the while listening to the light and joyful tones of that wonderful composer!
With her slave ready to be beat and the mood set in the room, Megan sits for a moment to reflect before beginning the whipping. She is quite regal, seated in a large whicker chair, in her elegant gown, contentedly sipping her red wine. Then it begins:
“Tell me Cissy,” She asks. “Do you know why you are here?”
“I am here to please you and to serve you, Mistress Megan.” I meekly respond.
“And are you pleasing and serving me?” She’ll continue.
“Yes Mistress.” I answer. I am serving you to the best of my ability.”
“We’ll then.” She said, “We had better improve your abilities, because you are falling quite short in pleasing me!” She rises from her chair and approaches me. The terror in me rises with every step she takes.
She takes a leather glove from the rack and pulls it over her hand. She massages my buns for a few moments. The massage feels great and dulls the ache a little from last nights beating. Then she quickly changes tempo and deliver stinging slaps to each cheek. She then moves up my back to rub my shoulders and upper back for a few moments, tenderizing that area as well for the strikes they are to receive. Playfully, She fondles me though my panties until I am erect, which usually doesn’t take much work. For all her cruelty, Megan does want me to enjoy her whipping!
Tonight Megan will use two instruments, the paddle on me cheeks for the minor infractions and the whip across my back for the more serious matter of the runner in my pantyhose. She first takes the paddle, and standing behind me, swings it upward to the bottom of my buns. I am to count off each stroke, thanking her and asking for the next:
“Number One!” I count out, “Thank you Mistress Megan, May I have another?”
“Number Two! Thank you Mistress Megan, May I have another?”
The leather paddle stings my flesh at each blow. As the count gets higher, the pain becomes greater, and it is harder for me not to scream or moan in pain. But I have learned the hard way not to cry out while being whipped. Should I do so, Mistress Megan will simply gag me and double or triple the number of remaining lashes. She says she actually gets turned on listening to slaves moan through a gag while she whips them.
I hold up and receive only the prescribed number of ten blows from the paddle. Mistress Megan stops and rests for a moment. She is pleased with how well I held up during the beating and compliments me; “Good Girl, Cissy. You did well.” She rubs my panties to restore my erection and then sits for a moment to refill and sip her wine, resting before administering the final ordeal.
For my part, I stand in my heels, with my arms raised and chained to the ceiling, my nipples clamped in excruciating pain, my cheeks stinging and sore and hoping my strength will hold out for what is to come.
“I am very disappointed in you Cissy.” She says: “You know that nylon stockings require delicate handling when you put them on and while you are wearing them. You know it makes you look slutty to appear in them with runs!”
We have had this discussion many times before and I know that runs in my stockings are a major infraction to her. “You are supposed to be living as a woman now. You’re no longer just a little boy trying on his neighbors clothes!”
With that, She goes to the rack to select a heavier instrument of torture. She has a braided whip she occasionally uses when She is very displeased (like now). But as it cuts the flesh and leaves welts and scars, she will only use it on special occasions, like when she’s showing off for her friends. Tonight, Megan selects the leather strap. Although nearly as painful as the whip, the strap doesn’t cut the flesh. Thus, Mistress Megan has the feeling of power she gets from wielding a whip but without worrying too much about damaging me, her property.
Mistress Megan will strike the first blows lightly as she gets a feel for the distance and range of strap to the target. Then, when she has the feel of it, she will swing the strap with all her might, venting her anger over the torn stockings.
For my part, I’ll be counting off each stroke and vainly trying to hold off screaming my pain at the impact of each lash. From past experience, I doubt I’ll be able to hold up to ten lashes after standing on my toes for nearly an hour with my nipples clamped and taking ten or more swats of the paddle. If I’m lucky, I’ll stand up to the first five or six lashes before I scream and then receive the final eight or ten gagged as not to discomfort my Mistress with my screams.
Now the second part of the session begins!. I hang in the chains, legs secured together and nipples clamped. Mistress Megan comes up behind me with the strap. I’ll watch her every move through the full length mirror before me. I’ll see her raise her arm and bring the strap down upon me.
Swish! I hear the strap as it sails through the air and watch in the mirror as she strikes the blow.
Crack! I hear as it lands on my defenseless flesh and feel the sharp pain and sting of the leather on my flesh.
“One!” I count, “Thank You Mistress Megan. May I have the next?”
“Two! Thank You Mistress Megan. May I have the next?”
“Three! Thank You Mistress Megan. May I have the next?”
“Four! Thank You Mistress Megan. May I have the next?” Each stoke of the strap is harder than the last and my pain grows more and more.
“Five! Thank You Mistress Megan. May I have the next?” I start to weaken, but will use every ounce of strength not to scream out.
“Six! Thank You Mistress Megan. May I have the next?” By now, the pain is excruciating. I don’t know if I can take any more.
“Aahh, aagh!” I scream as the terrible strap bites my flesh one too many times for me to bear. “I mean Seven! Thank You Mistress Megan. May I have the next?” I plead, hoping she will take mercy on me.
“Did you just scream?” She asks indignantly.
“Yes, Mistress Megan,” I answer sheepishly.
“You will learn to take your punishment, you sissy!” She says sternly. With that she places a leather bit in my mouth and tie it around the back of my neck. Then she completes the sentence.
“Eight!” She continues the count as I moan into my gag.
“Ten!” The lashes come faster and harder as Megan becomes more aroused.
Just one more to go! I can almost feel the end of the ordeal.
‘Is it over?’ I wonder.
“Fourteen!” and then;
“Sixteen!” Mistress is now too aroused to stop herself. She keeps swing the strap, harder and faster. All I can do is to cry out softly through the gag. There is no stopping her now!
“Seventeen.” My strength breaks. My knees give out as I hang limply in the chains.
“Damn it,” She yells, “Don’t you move while I’m whipping you!”
I buck up and stand, knees locked.
“Nineteen!” The last two are softer. Mistress must be tiring. There is hope for me at last!
“Twenty!” This was the hardest yet! It must be her grand finale!
Crack! “Twenty-One!” This one was light. My Mistress’s energy is spent. Perhaps now she’ll have pity on me and release me from my chains.
Mistress Megan replaces the strap and paddle on the rack and retreats to her wicker throne. I know now the whipping is over. She softly catches her breath and sips her wine while I still dangle in my chains. I catch my breath, my nostril flaring as I am still gagged. I promise myself that I will never appear again before my Mistress in torn pantyhose. The consequences are just too painful!
Megan stands and approaches the rack. She picks up the rattan cane and I realize to my horror that there is more to come! She removes the leather bit that I may speak.
“Do you love me Cissy?” She asks.
“Yes, Mistress Megan,” I answer. When a woman has me naked and chained and is ready to beat me, I have learned to do or say anything that might keep me on her good side! “I love you with all my heart.” I added for affect.
“Do you live to serve me?” She asks.
“Yes, Mistress, I will serve you always in any way you desire.”
Megan flicks the cane, “It pleases me to beat you, Cissy.” She says. I am only too aware of this, but I say nothing. “Will you cheerfully submit to be beaten? May I strike you with the cane?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I answer, “Please strike me with the cane.” Again, I am in no real position to negotiate here.
“Thank You, Cissy.” She replies. “How many strokes would you like?”
Now here’s a trick question. None would be my first choice, two or three I might be able to handle, four or more would be too much as I am still debilitated from the first two beatings I have received this evening. However, if I only ask for a one or two, Megan will be disappointed and may become angry. I sure don’t want Mistress Megan to become disappointed or angry right now.
“Please strike me three times with the cane, Mistress Megan.” I request. I don’t know if I can handle more than three cuts, so I decide not to gamble.
“Three?” She asks coyly, “Is that all, Cissy?”
“Oh, Mistress Megan…” I stammer, “Please strike me four times.” Three or four, what’s the difference, I wonder.
“Very Well, slave. Four lashes it will be.” Megan happily agrees.
I grit my teeth as I watch in the mirror as she approaches with the cane.
“Ooow!” I scream. The sudden shot of pain as the rattan bites into the soft flesh of the underside of my butt completely takes my breath away and buckles my knees.
“One!” Megan says proudly.
“Ooow!” I scream again, tears running down my face.
“Two!” Mistress Megan calls out. “If you’re going to scream dear, don’t be so loud or you’ll wake the neighbors!” she says playfully. I don’t even bother to try to stand straight, but just dangle in my chains sobbing.
“Oooh..” I moan weakly.
“Four!” Mistress says proudly.
“Please, Mistress,” I sob softly, “No more, please!”
“No more, Cissy.” Megan says. She un-cuffs my wrists and I settle on the floor. “At least, no more for tonight!”
I sit on the floor and untie my legs. My shoulders and butt are throbbing in pain from the sting of the thirty five blows they have received from Megan’s crop, paddle, strap and cane. I am a wreck, sobbing in pain, sweat and humiliation.
Megan takes a tube of ointment and rubs some into the welts on my shoulder. She gently massages the gel onto my beaten flesh and the pain slowly ebbs. “You’re a good girl, Cissy.” She coos, “You have served your Mistress well tonight. I am proud of you.”
Her assurance that my sacrifice has been appreciated helps to ease my pain. After about ten minutes my sobs and tears have stopped, and the sharp pain has ebbed into dull aches. I feel a little normal again after two hours of bondage and beatings.
“Go take a shower and clean yourself up.” Megan instructs, “And fix your makeup.”
I nod and head to the bathroom. I take a quick shower, wash my face and hair and quickly towel off. Mistress wants me back in her bedroom quickly, so I only reapply my lipstick. There is no time for foundation, blush, eye shadow or blush. Besides, Megan is really only interested in my lips at this point.
I return to the bedroom wearing only panties, a slip and lipstick. The welts on my back and thighs rule out a bra or pantyhose. Mistress has me sit on the edge of the bed and retie the nylons around my knees and ankles. She then binds my hands behind my back, but with soft nylons now and not cold steel cuffs.
With me safely and comfortably secured, she rubs the front of my panties until I am once again erect. She places her hand inside my panties and rubs my erection until it is as hard as it can get. She then rolls a condom over it and pulls the panty back over it. The condom is the resoivior style and will catch my fluid and not leave any stains behind on Mistress Megan’s bed.
Lastly, she ties a silk scarf over my eyes. Mistress Megan will soon be unsnapping the bottom of her teddy, and that is a sight she does not permit her slaves to see.
“Come to me!” Megan orders.
I roll onto the bed and wriggle around until I am between her legs, my lips next to her Womanhood. Megan pushes my head down between her legs and I go to work. My tongue licks follows the lines of her slit until I find her clitoris. Then I really go to work and soon it is Megan’s turn to moan! I work my tongue on her until she climaxes with a shriek.
Now I can work on my own needs. I continue to flick my tongue in and out of my Mistresses moist slit while gently lifting and lowering my hips against the mattress. I sense the softness of the slip and panties against my tender skin, the ache of the beaten muscles in my back and butt, and the helplessness of the nylon bindings on my legs and wrists. All these sensations stimulate me and I continue to service my Mistress. Despite all the sensations I have experienced this evening and how stimulated they made me, it is the taste of my Mistresses’ pussy and it scent that sends me over the edge. I control my release until Megan is ready to come again and we climax together.
“Oh, Cissy!”, Mistress says as she rolls me away from her. We lay there quietly for a moment and then I hear her snap her teddy. “That was perfect! Good Girl.” She gives me a pat on the head and unties my hands. I remove the blindfold and nylons from my legs.
As I stand to leave, Megan gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “That will be all for this evening.” She says, “You are dismissed.”
“Good Night, Mistress.” I say with a slight curtsy of my slip. I gather up my clothes and tip-toe to the door. I softly close the door behind me as leave my Mistress. I am tired, sore, happy and fulfilled. I can’t wait for tomorrow!
As someone with a tiny penis (1.9” soft & 3.25” hard), I was very interested to read people’s comments on small penis humiliation, and thought I would add my 50 cents worth. In spite of having a bit of a hang-up about being underendowed, I can’t deny that I do get secretly turned on when people laugh at my size.
It all started in my school days, when I was dating a girl called Louise, who was a few years younger than me and who was my first proper girlfriend. As a joke, a couple of my so-called friends sent her a love letter, which they pretended was from me. I never saw it myself, so I don’t know exactly what was in it, but I gather it went into explicit detail about my cock size (damn those communal showers).
Louise must have known it wasn’t really from me, but rather than being shocked, it seems she was curious about it. So the next time we were alone together in her bedroom, she began unbuttoning my jeans. I knew nothing about the letter, of course, so I thought she was getting fresh with me, because she wanted to take our relationship to the next level (we had only ever kissed before). This was like a dream come true to me at the time, because I was somewhat wet behind the ears and didn’t realise how truly tiny my cock was.
Louise, it turned out, was not at all wet behind the ears. No sooner had she pulled out my throbbing cock than she burst into laughter and told me that her 7-year old brother was bigger than me. Whereupon, my cock shrivelled up even smaller than normal and I shoved it back in my pants, my face crimson with embarrassment.
She finished with me right then and there. Not only that, but the next day she told all her friends at school, and they told their friends and so on, and so on. The upshot was I spent the rest of my school life being called the Shrimp.
There were various other incidents over the years where my cock ended up being laughed at, which I won’t go into here. The upshot is I ended up being more than a little reluctant to let girls go anywhere near it until I was very comfortable with them. Then, slowly I realised that I had come to like it when people told me I was small… it turned me on.
Originally posted 2008-02-22 13:00:08.
My girlfriend and I were sitting side by side on the sofa in Her parents home watching TV, they were away at the time, and we had the house all to ourselves. At the advert break She got up saying She was going to the kitchen to get Herself a drink, and did I want one,
I replied no thanks not at the moment. When She returned, She was surprised, and not a little annoyed to see me lying full length and face up on the sofa. Where am I going to sit She said?, I suppose you’ll have to sit on me I answered.
Without another word She turned Her back on me and sat Herself down on my chest, there are no words to describe my feelings as I looked up at Her statuesque figure, and felt Her full weight on my body. In no time at all I had a huge bone hard erection, although I don’t think She noticed it. after a while I asked Her if She was alright, Yes She said, and how about you?
Oh I’ am fine I said, I like having you sit on me, but I would like it a lot more, if you sat on my face. Hardly was the word face out of my mouth, than She had got up. moved sideways, and those lovely well rounded bottom cheeks of Hers were right above me and descending fast.
I was plunged into total darkness, and all noise had disappeared, except I now heard a new type of sound that I had never heard before. It was a type of distant rumbling gurgle almost continually from deep inside her body. This I concluded was the sound of Her digestive juices doing their work on the meal She had recently eaten. These sounds were a great turn on for me, and gave me strange ideas that I hope to tell you of later on.
As She continued to sit on my face, I experienced for the first time, an incredible felling of total devotion to Her, I would have done anything for Her, I wanted to be Her slave, I would gladly have sacrificed my life for Her. Listening to those sounds coming from inside Her,
I wondered what it would be like if She possessed magic powers, and could reduce me in size until I was about 2 inches tall, pop me into Her mouth, take a drink, and swallow me whole and alive down into Her stomach. Once there She would use Her magic powers again to increase my size until I completely filled that organ to its capacity.
She would then sit down in a comfortable arm chair, lean back, close Her eyes put both hands on Her by now bloated belly, and enjoy the incredible sensation of digesting an unwanted, and useless slave. Now at long last I was serving Her in the way She liked most, my excruciating pain, was Her greatest pleasure.
It was particularly enjoyable for Her, as She had to do absolutely nothing but sit back relax, and let Her normal bodily processes do the job for Her. She drank a lot of water in order to dilute Her digestive juices, so that my pain, and Her pleasure would last all that longer,
She could still feel me moving around inside Her, and just about hear my muffled screams as I was being slowly very slowly digested, and changed into nutriment for Her benefit, and excrement for disposal in due coarse. Well I always said I wanted to be a part of Her, and now I am, but what part I wonder? .
Just how long She remained sitting on my face I don’t know, perhaps twenty minutes or more, however, as soon as the TV program had finished, She got up, and I asked Her if She had enjoyed it, “yes I did” She replied, I would never have dreamed of doing such a thing, but you have introduced me to my hidden side, and I like it. You talk too much anyway, and now I know just how to keep you quite whenever I want to, and enjoy it at the same time.
Tell me She said, what is it like for you when I am sitting on your face?. It is I replied an incredible mixture of feelings, firstly the knowledge that you are enjoying having me underneath you, that you are exercising your authority over me, your enjoyment of my symbolic act of total surrender to you.
The feeling of your silky smooth dress all over my face as your fully rounded bottom cheeks pushes my head down into the cushions of the sofa, I am plunged into total darkness, and can only hear the sounds coming from inside your body, as your digestive juices go to work on the contents of your stomach.
I love it every time you move, re-position yourself, cross ,and re-cross your legs, not knowing just how long you will continue to remain where you are, is for me a pleasure beyond description.
I’d just love to do it again She said.. No problem I replied, just whenever You want to, tell me to lie down, and do it. Does this mean then that I can do whatever I like with you? She asked, yes of course you can I replied, as long as it does not cause me any physical injury, or long term ill health.
Come with me She said taking me by the hand, and leading me up stairs to Her bedroom. There She sat on the end of Her bed, removed Her panties, lifted up the front of Her skirt, lay back on the bed with Her legs wide apart, and said “Get down on your knees between my feet, and lick my pussy, and don’t stop until I tell you to”.
What a wonderful sight, I was down there like a shot, kissing, sucking, and licking to my hearts content, and at the same time giving Her the pleasure She so richly deserved. At one point the tip of my tongue must have touched Her pee hole, for She gave an involuntary emission of urine into my mouth, not a lot, just about a egg cup full I would think, She froze, and started to apologize.
Please don’t apologize I said it tasted great, I liked it, You liked it She replied?, and would you like some more, oh yes please I said. Then lie down on the floor and open your mouth wide… She got up of the bed, stood above me with one foot on either side of my head, lowered Herself down, until Her wet pussy was above and in contact with my mouth, then She released the entire contents of Her by then full bladder directly into my wide open eager waiting mouth.
Her lovely golden nectar had a rich tangy taste, it was not only out of her body, but, “out of this world”. Not a drop was wasted, as I felt my stomach filling up. It was great to know that what had been an intimate part of Her, was now an intimate part of me.
After She had finished, I was commanded to lick her clean,,,then She got back again onto the bed, and instructed me to carry on as before..Her body arched, She moaned, and just before Her orgasm, She opened Her legs wider, put both Her hands behind my head pulled me in, and closed Her legs so tightly, I thought my skull would crack.
So, She said you like having me sit on your face, and you like drinking my pee, ideal, from now on you are my toilet, but only for liquid use, no solids, much as I would love to, as there is a health risk (She is a hospital nurse). All is not lost ,however, as I will try to immunize you against getting any infection from me, by using you in place of toilet paper.
Whenever I need to defecate you will come with me to the bathroom, you will first drink my pee, and after I have used the toilet you will lick my anus, and the surrounding area spotlessly clean. This means that you will be obliged to swallow some of my solid material, but not enough to make you ill, my anus will still be wet
from your tongue.
This I will dry with toilet paper before dropping it into your mouth for you to swallow… This is how things will continue for the next four weeks,.. then if I am satisfied that all is well, I shall use you for both functions. Now come with me She said, I am desperate for a poo.
I had never been happier, I just could not believe my good fortune, so much had happened in so short a time.
I had often wondered what it would be like to have my face sat upon by a Woman, and now I knew, I really enjoyed it, and what’s more She enjoyed sitting on my face, so much so in fact that She was keen to do it again.
My mouth had been so close to Her pussy, that I found myself wondering what it would be like to drink Female urine, but knew that I would never have the nerve to ask.
As it so happened, there was no need to, in fact I had drunk from Her love fountain twice, and had also been used as toilet paper by Her when she ordered me to lick Her arse hole clean, after She had defecated. She left the bathroom, entered the lounge, and sat down in one of the arm chairs, I followed, and sat down on the carpet in front of Her.
What are you doing down there ? She asked,, showing you respect I said, I want to be your slave. Oh don’t worry about that She said, you already are, and have been ever since you asked me to move sideways and sit on your face, as soon as you said that, I knew that you were mine, you were in my power, and I could do with you just what I wanted.
There I was sitting on the floor of Her parents house, looking up at Her, a, 5 foot 10 inch tall magnificent statuesque example of feminine perfection. Only a few short hours ago She had been my passive girlfriend, but now She was my Dominant Face Sitting Mistress, and I was no longer Her boyfriend, but Her passive obedient dedicated total slave, and Her very own personal human toilet.
This new relationship was exactly what we wanted, and both of us were keen to put it into practice as soon as possible. Go and get me a drink She said, and don’t have any yourself. When I returned She continued. From now on I will supply all that you drink, when you drink, where you drink, how much you drink, and how often you drink, but don’t worry there will always be enough, and may very well at some future time be more than you can manage,, we will have to see wont we?.
What She meant by this last remark, I will explain another time. After I had given Her the drink She had ordered, She said,, lie face down on the floor, with your head towards me, and worm, and wriggle, like the worm you are right up to my feet, and kiss them.
I did exactly as I had been told,,, She had removed Her slippers, and kissing Her nylon clad feet was indeed a great honour, after a short while She moved her feet apart, and ordered me to turn over on to my back, and put my head between Her legs, and keep perfectly still.
She lifted up Her feet,and placed both of them on my face. I want to feel what you are like as a foot stool She said… Some day She continued when I have been for a long walk I am going to use you as a door mat, and you can lick my shoes, and then my smelly feet spotlessly clean.
You have been a good boy She said, and I am going to give you your reward, but first go and get me another drink. when I returned She continued,, now get undressed, sit down in front of me with your legs wide apart, and move up close to my toes, remain perfectly still, although you can make a noise if you want to.
My cock which is just a little over 6 1/2? long by 2?thick was rampant, and pointing up at an angle of about 40 degrees. She moved Her right big toe forward a little, and touched one of my balls applying a slight downward pressure, all the time closely watching the expression on my face as She slowly very slowly applied more downward pressure, the pain became excruciating I lost control and screamed stop.
She smiled at me, immediately lifted Her foot, and placed it above my still rampant cock, pushed it all the way down to the carpet, where She proceeded to move Her lovely silky nylon clad foot backwards, forwards, and from side to side.
The sensations I experienced were out of this world,,,She would stop from time to time in order to make it last as long as possible, but in the end I was unable to stop myself from shooting a huge load of spunk all over the underside of Her foot, and the carpet.
She leaned back in Her chair, lifted up Her foot to my mouth, and demanded that I lick it all off, and swallow same, then I was made to lie flat on my stomach, and do the same for the carpet.
Now come with She said, and took me again up to Her bedroom, where I was told to lie face upwards on top of the covers, to keep my month, and eyes closed at all times and to remain still.
She then climbed onto the bed lowered Her naked pussy down on to my face, and proceeded to move backwards and forward, from side to side, and up and down like horse riding, using my nose, and the undulations of my face to give Herself a huge orgasm.
Having Her soaking wet, hot, slippery pussy all over my face was a very enjoyable humiliation, however, there was more to come, She told me to open my mouth wide, as She was now bursting for a piss, I thought She would never stop, I must have swallowed at least a pint and a half of Her lovely tangy tasting golden nectar.
I really enjoyed that She said, I can’t wail until I have you all to myself. My parents come home tomorrow, and you are to tell them that you have proposed to me, that I have accepted, and we wont to get married as soon as possible. All that was some years ago.
We were married, and in our new home in about six weeks. At once we started the four week long immunization process already referred to, and then at long last came the moment that we had both yearned for.
During those four weeks we made a suitable movable toilet which enabled me to lie down on a bench with my head on an adjustable padded rest so that my face could be pushed up from below by the one seated. She always enjoyed Her food, which included a lot of meat, this had the effect of making Her somewhat constipated.
She put off Her visit until Her rectum was full to capacity, as She wanted to enjoy as much as possible the complete use of me as Her very own personal human toilet. She nodded to me with that stern look of Hers, and I knew that the time had come for me to take up my position.
Shortly after, She also took up Her position, adjusted my head rest to suit Herself, and proceeded to relieve Her full bladder. She then wiped Her wet pussy clean, put the used toilet paper into my mouth, and re positioned Herself for what She later described as without a shadow of doubt the greatest most enjoyable experience of Her life.
She moved forward a little to place Her anus directly over my mouth, She put Her hands under Her bottom cheeks, and pulled them apart, She then operated the leaver to push my face upwards so that I became a mere extent ion of Her digestive tract.
I started to lick, kiss, and suck as She groaned, and tried hard to push out the first log, I felt Her flesh bulge outwards, but Her anus remained tightly closed. She relaxed and the bulge went back up again, after a short while She again groaned, pushed hard, and this time Her anal ring opened just a little, this went on and on several times, until I was at last able to get my tongue up inside Her anus just far enough to touch the head of the first huge log.
Two more attempts, and then the first part of my next meal slowly began to descend into my wide open eager waiting mouth… Years before I had met Her, and being a submissive bisexual, I had often given deep throat oral sex to a number of men, and I had more than once had an 8? by 2? fully erect bone hard cock as far down my throat as it would go. After a short while, the head of the first log was at the entrance of my throat.
At last what we had both yearned so long for had come to pass, She said it was awesome, and I couldn’t agree with Her more, for the very first time, I had been allowed to swallow the entire contents of what had been Her fully distended rectum.
I was already privileged to drink Her urine several times a day, but now for the very first time She had used me as Her Full toilet slave, and I was overjoyed. She said that the sensations for Her had been so great, that She was desperate to do it again as soon as possible, and to this end She said, from now on all your other meals will first be reduced to a substance that can be put into a syringe of suitable size, and then inserted into my back passage, enema style, I will then keep it inside me for a while so that it can be mixed up with what remains of my meals. This will have the advantage of giving you all the nutrient you need, and I shall not have to wait two to three days before I can use you again, also it will be somewhat softer, and therefore easier for you to swallow.
Many times in the past She had sat on me just in order to enjoy the pleasure of farting in my face, Her skirts made a sort of tent, and kept the foul stink there for a long time. The material now in my stomach continued to generate gas, and in due course my belly was fully distended, I had to belch, and was once again able to enjoy the humiliation of inhaling the pungent odour of Her farts, but this time from inside me, and not as a result of Her sitting on my face.
I had to belch again and again for the next two hours or so. After about three hours, She used me once more, but this time to give me my first new style meal, it was an incredibly enjoyable experience for me, as I know it was for Her also.
As She had indicated it was so easy to swallow. I was as they say, “over the moon”. I had this day for the first time become my Mistress very own personal human toilet to be used for both functions, and from now on the only food, and drink I would ever have would come from inside the body of my owner, my Goddess, She who I worship, in fact I worship the very ground She walks on.
Here I could be accused of worshiping myself, as not infrequently I am in fact the very ground She walks on, and that is something I really enjoy, and look forward to.
As I have already indicated above, She who owns me said, “From now on I will supply all that you drink, when you drink, where you drink, how much you drink, and how often you drink, but don’t worry there will always be enough, and may well be at some times in the future perhaps more than you can manage,,we will have to see. What She meant by this last part, I will explain another time.”
At the time I was not quite sure just what She meant by this, but I was soon to find out.. As I have said, She is a nurse in a nearby Hospital, where She has made friends with other nurses of like mind, all of whom know of Her dominant relationship with me, Her slave husband, Many of these friends were keen to see just how She uses me, and to this end it was not long before She invited six of them to our home for what She described as, “a girls night in”. e
Each one had been told to feel free to use me in the same way that She does.. The wine flowed freely, and it wasn’t long before each one it turn had to use me as Her toilet, and some of them more than once mainly for liquid relief only, but two of them also for defecation as well..
Fortunately I was not used by them in quick succession, and was therefore able to swallow all their waste products, I estimate that I must have drunk a gallon at least of their different flavoured honey that evening.
She is enjoying whipping this man. Her smile is the proof.
She’s a Domme who enjoys dominating men. A sadist who delights in hurting men.
Femdom is her hobby, lifestyle and greatest pleasure.
Submissive men who know this worship her even if never allowed to kiss her boot or feel her whip. Submissive men’s heart cling to the dream of serving such a woman.