Goddess’ New Submissive Sissy Male

Female Led Feminization & Strap-on Sex

My name is now Georgiana, once it was George. I would like to relate how I was turned into a girl (really a transvestite slave) by the beautiful young lady who has become my mistress. I have always felt that I should have been born a female. I definitely have female traits. I am not very tall, and I have narrow hips and a small butt. I have a very feminine voice and I cry over the silliest things. Just like a woman would.

Savannah’s dominance over me has expanded my submissive nature. I love Goddess Savannah and happily submit to her every desire. In high school, I spent two frustrating years trying to date the opposite sex. I found girls to be rather shallow, only dating the cute, tall and handsome guys and jocks, or guys with lots of money! At the end of my junior year all that changed!

Savannah, easily the cutest girl in my home room class, had become my friend in the last month or so. She would eat lunch with me every day ignoring her other girlfriends and the athletic jocks who always seem to follow her around. We would work on our homework together and after one fateful night we actually started dating too!

She would call me at home and we would spend hours on the phone. We would talk about everything even fashion, which had always been a passion of mine. She even liked the sketches of the designs I showed her. Taking my hand the other day she gazed steadily into my eyes and told me that I was not like the other boys in school. That I was very special.

The Saturday before school was out for the Christmas break she called and invited me to a party that evening at her house. Her parents were away for the weekend and she asked if I would like to come over. When I asked who would be there, she told me just a few of her close girl friends that had formed a sort of club.

I arrived around seven and was surprised to find myself the first arrival. Savannah was ravishing in a black mini-dress and black suede baby-doll sandals with four-inch heels. Pulling me by the arm into the den we quickly embraced and she French kissed me. Her kiss was wet and very passionate. I was stunned and dazed, and I stammered something about the other kids. Savannah reached out and ripped my shirt open then proceeded to undo my jeans. I broke away from her momentarily as she said, “Take off those silly boys’ clothes.”

I managed to utter a shocked “What?” Just then she slapped my face and said: “There’s no use pretending with me, George W., I watched you for almost three years, every since I moved to this little town. I have seen you after our lunches for the last month or so, how you dress and eat, you can’t fool me! Even my father’s medical books have a term for what you are. The whole school calls you it too, a “Sissy”. I am going to help you with this little problem! So take off your clothes now, the other girls will be here shortly and we need to get ready. I want to see you naked. Do it now, Georgiana!” she ordered!.

In a daze I obeyed her orders. I removed my jeans, shoes and socks and stood before her in just my underpants. Slipping her manicured fingers under the waist band of my briefs, she lowered them down my now trembling thighs. “My, my, Steph”, she commented while looking at my privates. “The guys were right, that’s a little boy’s cock you’ve got there! It sure is the cutest looking cock I’ve ever seen too! You also have such marvelous curves too Steph, too pretty to hide!”

She was looking with envy at my hips and bottom. I blushed and my little cock stiffened under all the attention. She used my now erect penis as a handle, leading me up the carpeted stairs. “Come with me Steph, we have some work to do here!”

“Tonight, my dear”, she whispered, “our little sissy Georgiana is coming out of the closet!” “You’ll be a lovely girl in a little while, wait and see darling!”

Savannah took me in her bedroom, soft and scented and piled deep with plush and lace. Savannah left me standing naked before a long mirror. Going to her dresser she returned with a pair of white silky panties. I gasped as she slipped the soft satiny panties past my thighs, then tucking away my swollen genitals. Savannah ran her hand over my crotch and my cock swelled even bigger now! Then taking notice to how the silk bulged outward on the front, Savannah shook her head and patted my erection firmly! She said: “This spoils the smooth lines panties are supposed to have on the front panel of a girl!” “We’ll have to fix that little problem Steph!” “I have a cock sheath you will wear from now on!” “It goes over your penis and has a long leather cord attached to it.” “With it in place, I can easily tuck your cock between your legs and pulling the cord tight behind you, tie it off to your garter, corset or belt or something! This way, your front is nice and flat, and your stretched balls will even appear as two little mounds there resembling your own pussy!”

Smiling again, Savannah pressed her wet lips to mine again and proceeded to give me another deep soul search French kiss! Then Savannah lowered my white panties to mid thigh. She grasped my dick with her dainty fingers and closed her hand around my shaft! She began to slowly masturbate me, fondling my cock and balls, then she started to slide her hand up and down my shaft! Soon she was pumping my cock and squeezing it firmer as she quickened her pace! I could not contain the moans escaping from my lips and as my legs weakened, Savannah asked if what she was doing felt good? I could only speak with sounds, and I am sure she knew that my AAAHHHH meant YES! I was ready to erupt and Savannah sensed this too, she squeezed harder and pumped my cock faster has I exploded right there into her hands!

Savannah’s eyes were gleaming as she watched my sperm spurting into the growing puddle in her hand! The last of my cum dribbled across her fingers coating them with my seminal fluid. Licking her fingers clean and taunting me with her words, “MMMMMMM”, Savannah smiled and presented me my full load which was in the palm of her other hand! The astonished look on my face must have told her it was my first time eating my own cum! She just looked me straight in the eye and said, “You taste great Georgiana!” “You will learn to love the taste of your cum, because from now on every time I allow you to orgasm, you will lick it all up, no matter how much you shoot!” “You will also learn to love the taste of my juices too, some of the girls say I taste like strawberries!” “Now lick all of this up before you make me angry with you!”

Wiping my now shrunken and flaccid penis with the corner of the bedspread Savannah pulled my panties back up. She again firmly patted the front panel and my softening penis, and said: “Nope, still have a bulge here, I guess you get the sheath!” Then she slid her hand down the back of the panties and over my butt cheeks, reaching through my legs she took hold of my dick and Pulled it back between my legs. “This will be how you will wear the sheath, it will allow me to pull your cock down through your legs and back behind you!” “See your panties now look as if you have a vagina in there, instead of that unsightly bulging cock that ruins your feminine appearance!” Then Savannah went back to her dresser and removed a black leather looking pouch. She quickly pulled it down over my cock like a condom, and proceeded to tie the small laces which held it in place. It was very tight, and was mildly uncomfortable! Savannah then pulled the cord through my legs and back up along my ass crack, and she pulled up on it very firmly bringing me to my tiptoes! Savannah said: “Oh I guess I forgot to mention that it might be a little painful for you at first, and if you should become aroused, well, let’s just say that I don’t think there will be a big erection coming up here!”

Looking down she was right. The panties now had a flat front panel. They were tight and smooth in the crotch too, and you could not tell that there was a penis there either! With my prick tucked between my legs, Savannah put a pink waist-cincher on me! It was trimmed in small satin ribbons and bows and looked very dainty and feminine. Savannah told me to take and great big deep breath and suck in my stomach. She then cinched up the back very tightly, and when I was told to release, I could hardly breathe! Touching my cheek, Savannah whispered into my ear, “You’ll get use to it darling and it does wonderful things for your figure.” “Look at that delicious bottom you have, it juts out so nicely now, and that flat front of your panties!” “Mmmmmmm, you certainly look good enough to eat right now!”

Next she hooked me into a pink nylon foam padded bra with a push-up design. After stuffing the cups with scads of her scented panties, she stepped back and laughed. “A pretty padded bra is a sissy’s best friend Steph!” “We won’t tell a soul what’s in the cups though!”

I could only hope not, because next she found a pair of sheer pink tap pants with garters sewn into the lacy spandex. “I wish they looked half as sweet on me,” She sighed. Savannah was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen and I started to protest that comment, telling her that she was very beautiful! Savannah just shushed me and said “Here,” pushing me back on the bed, “let’s get your stockings on now.” Running her hand up my calf she said “Tomorrow we’ll shave your legs. That way your stockings will feel really sexy.” Hooking the white nylon to the garter tabs she now had me stand up.

I marveled at my reflection in the long mirror. “You must be the cutest sissy in the whole wide world Georgiana,” she bragged and I was beginning to agree. It felt fabulous and exciting wearing her lingerie. Before I could speak, she had taken a pair of pink leather high heel pumps from her closet and pushed me back on the bed. Slipping the pumps on my feet she pulled me up.

I rocked uneasily in the shoes. Savannah giggled and said “You will need a little practice walking before you can sway your hips the way I do darling.”

The last vestige of my manhood seemed to be disappearing. I really didn’t care though. It felt good being a girl. I wanted Savannah to tell me again how cute I looked and how beautiful I was as a girl. Savannah rushed to the closet and took down the most fabulous pink dress I had every seen. “How do you like it?” she asked. I could not answer tears were filling my eyes. Savannah squealed and hugged me tight saying “I bought it especially for you last week I was hopping you wanted to be a girl. I’m so glad I was right about you.”

The dress was stunning — lacy soft puffed sleeves with a gathered crepe bodice. Three tiers of lace for the generous skirt with a sash at the waist. Once I was wearing the dress I felt just a princess.

Savannah sat me down at her dressing table, and applied a liquid foundation to my face. She followed this with eye shadow, liner and mascara to my already almond-shaped eyes. She then rouged my cheeks and painted my lips a very hot pink. It was hard to believe that the reflection in the mirror was actually me. Savannah teased my long dark hair for half an hour before she had it styled the way she wanted it. She applied a spray net and my transformation was almost complete. Patting my shoulder she commented “Beautiful aren’t you Georgiana.” The jewelry she chose for me consisted of a strand of perfectly matched pearls and a pair of pearl ear rings. She said the ear rings were just temporary until she could pierce my ears for the diamond studs she would buy me later. Kissing me she slipped her tongue into my mouth, Frenching me so that it took my breath away with excitement. Breaking the kiss she said “C’mon, lets have a beer down stairs. We can have a little girl-talk before the others arrive.”

I had forgotten that this was supposed to be a party. I was petrified and panic stricken. “Dressed like this!” I cried. Laughing Savannah takes my hands in hers and says “Why not? If anyone asks, you’re my cousin from out of town. No one will recognize you, besides it only the girls from school. We have sort of turned to each other because we are sick of being treated like whores. Every boy in town thinks they can fuck you to death if they take you to a movie and buy you a hamburger and Coke.”

“Not you though George, you’re special. That why I asked you here tonight. You’re more like one of us, and not at all like those big prick head jocks.

I melted in the warmth of her smile as she continued. “You understand that a female needs soft loving sometimes and not hard fucking. That women also enjoy receiving head and that to kiss someone’s anus is a sign of love between two loving people, male or female. Let get those beers darling. All this sex talk is starting to making my pussy wet and you have all my panties in your bra.”

Laughing she pulled me up and wrapped her arm around my waist as we started down the stairs.

I had taken two sips of my beer when the doorbell rang. “Answer It, Georgiana.” Savannah ordered. Cautiously, I approached the front door, dreading who might be on the other side. The chimes rang out again, Savannah was suddenly beside me opening the door. Four of our classmates, (Heather, Melinda, Jennifer and Kim), crowed into the foyer. Each girl quickly kissed Savannah on the cheek and gave me the once over, trying to figure out who I was. After shedding their coats we all moved off toward the family room, Savannah and myself lagging somewhat behind the others.

Savannah whispered in my ear “You like all these girls, don’t you Georgiana?” “OOOHHH YEEES they are all lovely but none of them can compare with you Savannah.” I gushed. Savannah squeezed my waist tightly and said, “Follow my lead and obey me Georgiana! I will make you the happiest little sissy that every lived! OK darling?”

I nodded my head yes, and we entered the family room where the other girls awaited us. Telling all the girls to sit on the sofa, Savannah stood proudly by my side and asked, “Do any of you recognize this ravishing beauty?” “She is an old friend of mine, and I’ve invited her here tonight for our mutual pleasures!” The four of them looked at each other then at me. I could tell that they didn’t have a clue who I was! Then, Heather squealed loudly and announced to the others, “It’s him, the sissy guy from school!” All of the girls looked at me in disbelief.

Putting her arm around my shoulder Savannah stared at the four girls who were speechless. “Kneel Georgiana!” she commanded. I obeyed falling quickly to my knees. Patting my head she said. “That’s a good sissy, now stay just like that, while I explain.” “Heather was correct in recognizing George, but that is not who is here right now!” “This is now Georgiana!” “He’s really a female trapped inside a males body.” “I spotted his femininity the first week I moved here.” “Being new, I had to try out the cocks this place had to offer, and like you, I am tired of being shit on by them!” “How many times has your so called boyfriend forced you to give him head, then when you suggest they do the same to you they freak out saying NO FUCKING WAY!” “Or, they fuck you until they get their rocks off, not caring if you ever have an orgasm or not!” All of the girls nodded in agreement with what Savannah was saying. “Georgiana here is the exception to all of that!” “Not only will he give us oral whenever we want it, but we don’t have to give him head unless we want to!” “But before any of you get any bright ideas, Georgiana is my little sissy, and I am going to share him with all of you this weekend!” “After that, if you want or need him, you will have to ask my permission first!” “I trust you all brought the items I instructed you to?”

Melinda, our beautiful homecoming queen, spoke up and said yes, it’s all in the gym bag over there. Then Melinda asked, He’s still got a cock doesn’t he? And any guy with a cock is still a dick in my book!

Savannah just looked down at me and said “I guess will have to show them won’t we, Georgiana!” “Stand up Steph, and raise your dress.” “Show all of them your pretty panties!” Glancing at the expectant faces of the now giggling girls on the sofa, I stood and grasped the hem of the dress and slowly raised it! With my lower body fully exposed, Savannah had me spread my legs wide apart. Running her hand over the crotch of the panties, she said, “Look at this smooth crotch, he has no unsightly bulges here!” “And though there is no vagina here girls, George identifies with females.” “And hopefully, after tonight Georgiana here will identify with us even more than ever too!”

Savannah continued her little speech saying, “Together we will teach him to be a girl, and what it takes to be one of us.” “Your works will be rewarded soon my friends, and Steph will be available to each of you to use as you wish!” “He needs to be shown where the clitoris is located so he will be able to worship ours with his lips and tongue.” “Georgiana understands that females love to have oral sex and I’m sure he is eager to learn everything about the wonderful world of womanhood too!”

In an instant the girls all jumped up and rushed to where Savannah and I stood. They all started talking among themselves. All were touching and groping me. Running their hands all over my satin covered crotch, and butt! Some were taking turns kissing my painted lips, while others were asking where my dick was! I continued to stand there, with my dress pulled up and exposed to the whole crowd! My mind was in a whirl, I was hearing such things as “His dick must be tiny if he can hide it in those panties.” “He sure has a nice butt!” “Have you always wanted to be a girl George?” “Will we be allowed to play with his penis too Savannah?” “When will he perform orally on us?” “My pussy dripping already!” “Let’s get him naked! I want to see him without any clothes on.” “I want to sit on his face for hours.”

Then Savannah decided to put a halt to all of the questions and the discussion. The girls wanted to see me naked and I guess Savannah’s master plan was for me to serve all of them this weekend anyway. I was marched back up to Savannah’s bedroom where they picked out the prettiest night clothes they could find. They finally decided on a naughty little satin and lace babydoll in light blue with little matching ruffled string bikini panties that tied on the side.

Once they had my outfit chosen the girls piled on the bed and Savannah ordered me to strip. Shamelessly I did a strip tease for them. The girls clapped as each piece of clothing was removed. With my back turned I slowly worked my final article of clothing off, the white satin panties. As the panties slithered down my legs my tightly bound penis and sheath sprang from between my buttocks, the cord hanging down to the floor!

Whirling around I faced them, my hardening dick trapped within the small tight leather sheath stuck out like a small peg. They all laughed and snickered, poking fun at my small encased cock. I folded my hands in front of me in an attempt to hide it from their view. Savannah instantly ordered me to put my hands on top of my head and to spread my legs wide apart. Savannah and the others crowded around me as Savannah knelt down and untied my now growing cock and balls! She then ordered me to stand perfectly still, do not move. Each girl was give the opportunity to play with my penis and testicles, and they did, fondling me and I tried to resist the pending urge to cum again!

Kim suggested that I be made to lick my own sperm to prove that I really wanted to be a girl. Everyone quickly agreed it was a great idea. They agreed that it would show that I truly wanted to be one of them. Savannah agreed and she made me lie on my back in the middle of the bed. My legs were brought back toward my head. My cock was now inches away from my face. Melinda slowly started jacking me off. It was strange and exciting to feel so many other soft feminine hands squeezing my cock and balls! They were doing things to me that until tonight had only been done by myself! Turning my head I saw Savannah and Kim whispering together. They soon joined Melinda, each of them took turns masturbating me until I cried out at my approaching climax. Savannah ordered me to open my mouth wide, while a hand aimed my shooting cum into my mouth! The other hands continued to pump and milk all of my cum from my softening dick!

Savannah was saying to me, “Keep your mouth open wide Georgiana, you must swallow your sperm like a good little girl.” “If you spit it out or close your mouth you’ll be punished!” I erupted and jets of my cum splattered my mouth and face! Savannah used her fingers to feed me what missed my mouth. The taste was strange but unpleasant, and now I knew what a girl must feel as my hot cum shot into my mouth!

When It was over each girl kissed my lips saying “Welcome little sister”. After Savannah kissed me she whispered into my ear how each girl here would have something to teach me about being a little sissy. Then Savannah told me to go into the bathroom and freshen up a bit before coming back out. She said that she and the girls would be getting the stuff ready for me. As I left the room they had all gathered on the bed and were whispering again. I felt accepted by them and somewhat submissive to all of them too. I so wanted to please all of them, but especially Savannah!

After taking a quick shower, I returned to the bedroom to find Savannah sitting at her vanity brushing her long blond hair. She was dressed in a beautiful green satin dressing gown that matched the color of her sexy eyes.

Seeing that I had showered, she became very angry! She glared at me in the mirror, then turning abruptly she shouted, “Georgiana you little Bitch!” “I didn’t tell you to take a shower and wash off all that makeup that took so long to apply!” “You were just supposed to wash your silly little cock!” “Damn You!!”

Tears came to my eyes immediately and I began to stammer “I’m sorry Savannah! I didn’t mean to make you angry! Please forgive me, it won’t happen again!” Falling to my knees I put my head in her lap and began to cry. Savannah stroked my wet hair saying “It’s OK baby! Stop crying! I sorry I yelled at you, but if you didn’t understand my orders then you should have asked me first! In the future, If my orders and commands are unclear to you I want you to ask me for clarification, OK? You do want to obey me don’t you Georgiana?”

Still sobbing somewhat I managed to gasp out “OOOHHH YES Savannah!!! I LOVE YOU AND WILL OBEY YOU ALWAYS!! You have showed me so much and I love you for that, I want to obey you completely!

Savannah leaned down and kissed my cheek then said. “I know Georgiana, you are one of us now, and if you are going to be my little sissy servant you must show me proper respect!” “You must address me as your Mistress from now on and obey my every command no matter what or how humiliating. You must also show proper respect for all my female friends by calling them Miss or by their name Ms. _____, Will you do that for me Georgiana?” Kneeling back I lowered my head and whispered “YES Mistress, I will do that for you, and I will obey you always or suffer the consequences.”

“Good Georgiana!, now with that out of the way, I am going to have to punish you for disobeying me.” “Now go over to the dresser and get the paddle out of the drawer.” “You will lay over my lap and present yourself for your punishment.” “You will always accept whatever I have chosen as your punishments without complaint, is that clear Steph?” I agreed and answered her with a YES, as I walked to the dresser.

I went to Savannah’s dresser and removed the rubber sided Ping-Pong paddle and handed it to her. I laid across her lap and then I asked her if she wanted my babydoll pulled up or left down?

“Very good Georgiana!” “I am delighted that you thought enough of your Mistress to ask this, and that you are obeying me by accepting your punishment!” “Whenever you displease me, disobey me, or fail me in some way, I must punish you Georgiana!” “You will always present yourself to me, ready to accept your punishment, and from now on I want you to ask me how I want you to receive your punishments, just like you are doing now!”

“Right now, I want you to hold your nightie up so your ruffled panty covered bottom is raised up like this! Savannah helped guide my arms up to my sides, my hands clutching the bottom of the nightie pulling it up to the middle of my back. Then Savannah told me I would receive fifty swats on my pantied bottom for taking a shower and washing off all that makeup! Savannah also said, “I want you to try and hold still for me now Georgiana, and try and be very quiet too, remember I have guests!”

Lifting my head with her fingertips she smiles and says “That’s a good sissy slave, you’re slave Georgiana from now on, and you belong to me alone!” “You must learn to be a very obedient and a very submissive little girl.” “My friends are waiting to show you just what it is like, for you to be a female.” “They have all brought with them some toys and strapon dildos, and one by one, each one of them is going to have you tonight as a girl!” “They have set up a bench for you down there, you will be cuffed and secured to it while they take turns using you with their toys!” “When they tire of using your sissy hole and penis and mouth, I will untie you and bring you back in here with me.” “Then, you will surrender yourself to me completely, and as your Mistress, I will proceed to take your virginity for myself with my own special toy!” Savannah pointed to the largest dildo I have ever seen! Savannah said it was over twelve inches long too! “You will learn what we girls have had to feel every time a guy just wants to have sex with us.” “No concern for your feelings, just fuck you till they get their rocks off!” “I am afraid that is how these girls are going to be with you tonight too Steph!” “In a few minutes we will look in on them, and since you’ve washed off all of your makeup, I think I’ll let Kim show you how to do your face again and maybe Melinda will help you pick out a nice perfume.” “All of the girls will be Dominating you tonight Steph, and tied to the bench as you will be, if they want to spank you they probably will, especially after seeing your cheeks all nice and glowing a rosy pink already!” “But first though, I have to punish you for taking a bath and undoing all my hard work.”

Reaching back she picked up her paddle and proceeded to spank and paddle my ass very hard through the thin fabric of the panties. She continued to rain down the swats to my ruffled covered bottom! Then to my surprise, after what I thought were fifty swats, Savannah untied my panties and pulled them right off! She then told me to count aloud each of the fifty swats she was going to apply to my bottom, and that the other fifty were just a warm-up!

The night and weekend was truly one to remember. I was tied to the bench in the middle of the room and each girl fucked me numerous times! Each girl also paddled my bottom for various reasons and some as punishments too! I was also jacked off by many that night and force fed all of my cum! The girls slid an ottoman in front of me and they all took turns having me eat them out! They were relentless, my mouth was not given a break at all, unless to eat my own cum! It was very late, actually early morning when Savannah untied me and led me to her bedroom. There in the middle of the bed were a stack of pillows, and that huge strapon dildo! Goddess Savannah told me to lay face down on the bed, placing my hips over the pillows and asked if I wanted to be hers from now on?

I begged Savannah YES, please take me, and make me her own!

Savannah then secured me to the four corners of the bed, tying my cuffs off to the bed frame! She then left the room for a moment and upon returning all of the other girls were standing around the bed! I suddenly felt two sets of hands pulling and spreading my butt cheeks open wide! Savannah, as well as the other girls could easily see her target! My asshole was dilated already from the fun the girls had with me already, but Savannah’s strapon was huge! Then I felt it as Savannah pressed the head of her dildo to my awaiting sphincter! I heard some girls comment on how big it was too! Savannah, asked me aloud if I was ready to be hers now? Was I ready to be deflowered as a sign of my obedience to her?

Embarrassed and with many witnesses I said, “YES Mistress, please take me now!”

With that I felt the whole dildo drive deep into my hole. Savannah shoved hard and impaled my hole in the first thrust! The other girls were ooohhh’ing and aahhh’ing as that huge dildo stretched me wide open! Mistress showed no mercy as she drove that huge long dildo into my depths over and over! Savannah pulled all of the way out and then just slammed it back into the hilt, pounding my asshole with full deep thrusts every time! I lost track of all time and I remember at one point Savannah was next to me kissing my lips as the other girls took their turns fucking me silly with that big dildo!

When it was finally over, Goddess Savannah untied me and as she rolled me over, there was a huge puddle of cum on the pillow, my face was pushed down to it as she ordered me to lick it all up! We all fell asleep after that, but not before Savannah chastised me for cumming without permission and for getting her pillow soiled with my cum! Both offenses I would be punished severely for tomorrow by Goddess Savannah and all of her friends too!

Young Woman Enslaves Her Boyfriend

Chapter 1:Public Humiliation

It was the eve of our one year anniversary. We had seen each other exclusively for the past year and I thought it was an appropriate time for a gift. Not just merely any gift, mind you, but a “real” gift. Something that forced me to sacrifice. No, I wouldn’t be able to get that new car any time soon, but “the hell with it,” I figured. Women like Kristen don’t come along very often.

We were in the middle of our Caesar salads when I took it from my inside coat pocket and put it gingerly on the table next to Kristen’s wine glass.

“Por moi?” Kristen chirped, feigning innocence.

I never bought anything with diamonds before in my life. But Kristen, I thought, was special.

“Timmie, it’s beautiful,” she beamed, her cobalt blue eyes wet with victory.

“It just means that you’re important to me, Kristen. It’s a sign of my commitment. It means that our relationship is serious to me.”

“Commitment?” Kristen whispered. “What do you know about commitment?”

An odd question, I thought, spoken just a bit belligerently. Kristen took a sip of wine and brushed a lock of her black hair from her forehead.

“I’m fond of you too, Timmie, but perhaps I’m not as sure as you. I like my men to go the distance, so to speak, for me, and a tennis bracelet, while nice, isn’t really much of a test.”

“A test?” I answered. “Is that what you want me to take to prove that I’m committed to you in this relationship? I didn’t give you the gift to bribe you. I did it to prove my devotion to you.”

She looked at me with those wicked blue eyes of hers. Kristen definitely had the streak of the devil in her. Her soft lips curled up into a smile, or was it a snarl?

The waiter returned with our dinners. Kristen ordered the swordfish, I had the petite filet mignon.

“You may take the doggie’s dinner and put it in a gentleman’s bag. Oops, now that’s embarrassing! I should say…well, never mind. You get the idea.,” Kristen interjected, surprising both me and the waiter.

“Right now? Will you be leaving early?” the perplexed young man asked.

“No, we’re staying, and I’ll eat my dinner here. But Timmie will wait until later, won’t you, Timmie?” Kristen stated as she started to girlishly giggle.

I sat opposite Kristen countless times over a multitude of meals during the past year, but this was the first time that I wasn’t relaxed. Kristen was the type of person who put you at ease immediately. But that night was different. She excused herself and went to the Ladies’ Room as I pondered my situation.

Kristen and I had, by this time, reached an understanding of who was in control. But we really never talked about it. We kept this part of our relationship fairly under wraps. The extent of her control over me was kept discreet in public…until now.

When she returned, I looked at her like the first time I ever laid eyes on her. It reminded me of the Edith Wharton line, “Each time you happen to me all over again.”

Kristen possessed a contained vivacious energy, “like a crate of dynamite trapped in a match box,” I told her on our first date. That made her laugh then, but I felt a more serious tone to the more current proceedings. Kristen lifted one of her ankle boots and slowly poked the heel into my groin, the long white tablecloth effectively hiding her teasing ministrations. She slid a forkful of baked potato into her mouth, but somehow managed to do it seductively.

“Is that a peppermill in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?” she cooed.

I just sat silently, my cock growing.

“Timmie, call the waiter over and have him put some fresh pepper on my potato. But say it like this…my owner, Mistress Kristen would like some pepper on her baked potato.”

I looked at her silently, her gaze never wavering. After a brief pause, I called the waiter over.

“Mmmy owner…Mistress…Kristen would like some pepper on her baked potato, please,” I managed to croak out, sweating bullets.

When the waiter finished, Kristen had him keep the peppermill on our table.

“Timmie, sweetie. Be a dear and take the peppermill and grind some pepper on my boot.”

Her wide, loving eyes just melted my heart.

“Please?” she added innocently, batting her eyelashes.

Kristen shifted in her chair and crossed her legs. I took the peppermill and looked around. Luckily, our table was fairly secluded. I soon had her right black leather ankle boot evenly dusted with cracked pepper. Leaning forward, I looked up when I completed my task.

Kristen looked down at me with an impish grin and, voice dripping with honey, said, “My, my…those boots sure do need polishing. Perhaps a good tongue-cleaning. Would you mind, Timmie?”

I had tongue polished Kristen’s shoes many times before in private and worshipped her cute feet behind closed doors. But public humiliation? Never. I don’t even think that Kristen considered it humiliation. Just a game to see how far she could take me in her control over me.

I waited until our waiter left with my credit card until I delicately got down on my knees. I figured that I had better finish before he returned with my receipt. From the toe to the base of her ankle, I laved Kristen’s sexy boot. Apparently, straight pepper with no chaser didn’t agree with me (a big shocker there!) so I vainly reached for my water glass. Alas, Kristen had already drank it. Consequently, I was forced to gulp down the rest of my Cabernet. I was dizzy when the waiter returned, but my Mistress’ boot was clean and glistening.

“Good boy. I may have some use for you after all,” she giggled, pressing her booted toe into my crotch as I coughed on my pepper-coated tongue.

I drove her home with a lust-filled heart and a blood-engorged cock. Kristen had teased me before, but nothing like this.

Chapter 2: Chastity Cage

“Have a seat, Timmie. I’ll be down in a minute.”

I sat on the sofa and tried to rearrange my bulging erection to make it more…comfortable. A small wet spot marked my Jockeys with a stain of pre-cum fluid. Fifteen anxious minutes later, Kristen appeared, clad only in a sheer black nightgown and hiding something behind her back.

“I have a gift for you, too, Timmie. Something to show that I care. It symbolizes my commitment to you. It proves that I don’t want anyone else to have you or to love you.”

With this little preamble, Kristen produced the gift. She held it out in front of her on both upturned palms. It was a metal contraption with a padlock and a spherical centerpiece that resembled a birdcage. In fact, that’s what she called it, “The Bird Cage.” It was a chastity device, no doubt, and she intended for me to wear it. I was to surrender my cock and balls to my Mistress and lock them in the cage.

As soon as the small box arrived in the mail the previous day, Kristen eagerly opened it. She ordered it two months before when she surfed the Web looking for a chastity device for me. The birdcage immediately caught her eye. It cost $200 dollars, but seemed ideal for long-term wear.

It was made entirely from welded stainless steel and was built to last. Kristen read the instructions and silently purred. A slight grin formed across her beautiful face as she read aloud:

“The larger ring is pulled open, attached behind the testicles and penis, then closed. The penis is then placed in the cage itself and the cage is, in turn, attached to the ring. The padlock is then installed, firmly securing the male and completely preventing sex or even masturbation. It is possible to urinate while wearing the device, although the male may have to sit like a woman. The device can not be detected under clothing, does not unduly interfere with movement, and can be worn for quite extended periods.”

“You have two choices, my sweet Timmie. Put it on or get out. It’s entirely up to you.”

I noticed that from her necklace dangled a small gold key — the key to the cage, apparently.

“Your days of masturbatory freedom are over, my slavetoy. From now on, you’ll have no choice but to be totally sweet for me at all times,” she said with a satisfied look.

The stainless steel device consisted of two pieces that, when locked together, was supposed to prevent erection, and make masturbation impossible. The two main components were the cock ring and the cage. The inside circumference of the ring was the same as the outside circumference of my flaccid penis. Where the metal of the ring came together, it was bent at a 90 degree angle, forming two 1/2″ plates that had been drilled to accept a small padlock. The second and main component of the device was the cock cage itself. Made out of the same 1/2″ wide stainless steel strip, there were three parts: a ring and two sections that were formed in a “U” shape.

“I’m going to make myself a cup of tea. When I return, I expect you either to be gone or naked and on your knees in front of the sofa. Choose wisely, for it may be the most important decision of your life.”

As I watched Kristen’s sweet behind saunter into the kitchen, I decided that my fate was sealed. I would give myself to her in the literal sense. When she returned, I was indeed naked and kneeling.

“Very well, Timmie. You may have made the worst decision of your life…or the best. Only time will tell.

Kristen picked up a pencil from the coffee table and flicked it at my heavy-hanging scrotal sac. Before my brain could recover from the shock, she fitted the ring around my flaccid penis and behind my balls and slipped the cage over easily. The slot in the long tab on the cage fit over the tabs of the cock ring. She replaced the lock that came with the cage with one of her own. It was a personalized gold padlock with the inscription of the letter “K.”

Kristen snapped the lock on, and I was totally secured…and chaste. I would be able to urinate, but completely unable to have a full erection, or have sexual intercourse. My balls were slightly squeezed between the penis cage ring and the cock ring behind my balls.

“As you start to get an erection, the cock ring will trap the blood in your cock, which will prolong the time it will take for your semi- erection to subside,” Kristen matter-of-factly explained to me. “You may need to experiment to discover in which position it is more comfortable to wear, either pointing up or down. A jock strap may be necessary to keep it from pointing straight out and causing an embarrassing tent in your pants. Although the girls at work may enjoy that, don’t you think, Timmie?”

I needn’t answer. I only stared at my imprisoned organ and listened to Kristen’s soothing voice.

“The device is surprisingly comfortable when you are flaccid. But when you wake up with that morning wood…hoo-boy! It will REALLY hurt. If I were you, I wouldn’t dare dream about me. It may not be worth it. When you start to become aroused, the cage will prevent a complete erection and the tissue will begin to bulge out between the large ring and the cage. This may be extremely uncomfortable, even painful, Timmie, dear. In due time, you will learn not to become erect.”

This was a more serious predicament than I first thought. With my manhood imprisoned, the ruthless chastity device merely allowed a partial erection which took all the willpower in the world to accomplish. I had suffered through full tumescence nearly all night long and the cold, unyielding metal cage would have rendered this all but impossible.

“I think it’s time for me to sate my own randy cravings, don’t you think?” Kristen purred, sliding the tip of her wet tongue over her glossy pink lips.

After we entered her bedroom, Kristen ordered me to lie flat on my back. I shuddered as she manacled my wrists to the top two corners of the bed. She gently stroked my cheek and blew in my ear. I moaned but Kristen ignored me, tying my ankles to the bottom two corners of the bed. She then slowly removed her negligee until she was just clad in panties. They were cherry red, just like the ribbon in her hair. She crawled over my face and planted a deep kiss on my trembling mouth. I arched my back as she removed the rest of her undergarments.

My new keyholder then straddled my head to face my captured erection. All that I could see was her luscious rump. But she peered around to tell me, in no uncertain terms, to please her. I then used my tongue to swab every inch of my princess, from the crease of her buttocks to her navel. She was absolutely delectable and her wine soon coated every square inch of my adoring face. My own cock pulsated helplessly in its semi-rigid state and leaked seminal fluid as Kristen blew softly on it and playfully flicked her tongue.

Agonizingly stifled with desire, I orally pleased Kristen for two hours and gave her several orgasms. She kept me on edge by teasing me with her succulent tongue and sweet lips, but I was denied release. There was just no way to achieve orgasm with that infernal device secured.

We were still locked in a “69″ when Kristen softly eased into a content slumber. I, of course, could not sleep and when she awoke in the morning, I had a throbbing headache. Leaving me bound, she showered and dressed quickly, stuffing her panties in my mouth and sealing my mouth with silver duct tape.

“My sweet Timmie, I have such wicked delights in store for you. I hope you can keep up with me. I’m very insatiable, you know. I hope you have a strong tongue, at least as strong as that metal prison that keeps such a close eye on your…I mean my…cock.”

Moving closer, Kristen placed a sweet, wet, loving kiss on top of the thick tape. I could have sworn that I felt her hot breath seep through.

Chapter 3: Total Orgasm Denial?

“I think I would like to be treated to a nice champagne breakfast, Timmie.” Kristen announced. “Put your jockstrap on over the cage and get dressed while I shower,” she added before turning away with a smile.

I heard my goddess humming in the shower while I tried to get my trapped penis comfortably hidden under my pants. She started to sing a Tina Arena song, her favorite.

When she emerged form the bedroom, Kristen looked ravishing and smelled even more divine. She knew how her perfume drove me crazy, but would not reveal the name of it. She expected me to figure it out on my own and to purchase it for her before the bottle emptied. If I didn’t, there would be hell to pay, she explained.

“Come along my slavetoy,” she breathed softly while striding past me.

She dropped her purse in front of me and bent over to pick it up. Her ass, meanwhile, lightly brushed against my caged penis. I inhaled deeply and tried to exercise some willpower. It was futile and I felt the steel bite into my tender flesh. It would be a long night, I thought.

We were seated at a corner table and ordered our Cristal and Eggs Benedict. Kristen slipped off her pumps and ordered me to unzip my fly. Luckily, the long white linen tablecloth effectively hid our erotic foreplay.

“Pull your jockstrap to one side, my slavetoy,” she whispered gently to me.

Using her toes, Kristen felt along the edges of the cage.

“So smooth…so cold…so delicious,” she cooed.

She tried poking her big toe into the cage, which, of course, was impossible. In turn, she tried all her toes, all the while sipping her champagne and discussing the merits of an Al Gore presidency. When she used her pinky toe, Kristen was finally able to enter the cage and stroke my restrained male flesh. She giggled and wiggled her toe, causing my penis to gently throb to her touch. She saw the agony in my eyes as the hard, unforgiving steel prevented any growth.

“What’s the matter, Timmie, dear? Have you no self-control? You better get used to it. That thing’s not coming off in quite a while. You see, in this relationship, we have equality. I get as many orgasms as I want. And you? You get as many orgasms as I want, too. You see? Equality!”

Kristen giggled some more.

“I think a fair trade-off would be 1000 orgasms for me and…let’s see…ONE for you! That seems fair, doesn’t it, my slavetoy?”

I didn’t answer. All that mattered to me is that my Mistress Kristen allowed me to be in her divine presence. She allowed me to worship her and to give her pleasure. What more could a guy ask for? I was frustrated, but deeply satisfied.

“Pay the bill, Timmie dear. I need to go to my beauty salon for a manicure and pedicure. I expect you to take over those duties soon. Anyway, since I’ll be taking the car, you can walk home. I’ll call you if I need you. Ta-ta, my little slavetoy,” Kristen softly sang, wrinkling her cute little nose at me. Suddenly, she was gone. Out the door. Oh, how I adored her.

Chapter 4: Punishment

When Mistress Kristen called me back to her home at the crack of dawn, I jumped, as I always did when I received one of those phone calls.

No words were exchanged as I performed a desperate dance of lust and rapidly stripped myself naked until I sank to my knees in front of her.

Giggling, Kristen removed her robe, revealing white lace panties. God, she was beautiful. She slid the panties down sensually, stepped out of them, and sat delicately in a large chair in front of me. With a grin, she looked down at my hard cock, jutting obscenely in front of me.

“I bet I could read your mind,” she whispered as I blushed.

With a sigh, she settled back in the chair and let her alabaster legs slowly drift apart. My eyes fastened on the soft dark hair of her pussy as her finger caressed it. I could soon see wetness envelope the puffy lips.

“Listen Timmie,” she whispered. “Today’s your lucky day. I give you permission to taste me.”

With joy, I tenderly sank my face into that glorious honeypot, soaking up the sweet smell and tasting her essence. With a determination that I never felt before, I abandoned myself to her pussy. There was no sense of time as my tongue explored, caressed, and nuzzled every inch of her womanhood. I relished this moment like it was frozen in time.

Suddenly, Kristen’s hand grabbed the back of my head and ground my face into her loins as she groaned with pleasure. I delicately licked her soft inner thighs as she leaned back.

“Enough, Timmie,” she gasped and my intimacy with her pussy was left unsated, merely leaving me with a frustrated and painfully chastised cock and her juices glistening on my face.

Kristen playfully tousled my hair.

“You’re very convenient to have around, Timmie,” she cooed as she languidly picked up her panties and wiped her moist pussy.

I waited, hoping that she would allow me some relief.

She stood up and cleared some items from the coffee table. I gaped at her in her white bra as she beckoned me.

“Bend over the table, Timmie,” she ordered and I complied, crushing my captive cock into the wooden table top.

“Open wide,” Kristen ordered breathlessly, holding my chin while she forced her musky panties deep into my mouth.

I felt her pushing her damp pussy against my rear and her hard nipples against my back, pressing me firmly against the table.

“I adore having you spread over the table like this,” she whispered in my ear, her long raven tresses tickling my shoulders. “You’re just so naked and vulnerable.”

Startled, I looked back at her grinning face over my shoulder. I suddenly felt very nervous.

“Don’t move,” she warned.

I felt her disengage from me as she rummaged through her handbag. Kristen proceeded to tie my wrists and ankles to the four limbs of the coffee table with strong cord.

“I’m glad you wear a belt, Timmie,” she coldly stated.” I heard her snap the belt and then giggle.

“Better not disturb the neighbors,” she said behind me.

The sudden noise from the stereo made me jump. A top 40 station was playing — Britney Spears singing about loneliness.

Kristen was pushing into me again, grinding her sopping pussy against me and driving my caged cock into the table. The belt trailed across my shoulders and I was, suddenly, very afraid.

“What shall I punish you for this time, Timmie? Surely you must have done something this week to deserve it, haven’t you? You must have ogled some poor young thing when you went to the mall on Sunday to return my shoes, huh? Don’t lie to me.”

I mumbled through the panties, trying to answer her in the negative.

“Hmmm…I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, her hot breath in my ear until, suddenly, she turned away and the stereo volume doubled.

I never even heard the first stroke but I sure felt it as a fierce red hot pain seared my rear end like sirloin on a grill. The panties in my mouth muffled any protest. TLC started on the stereo.

“Two,” she blurted and the next stroke cut deep into my backside. By the fourth stroke, I shivered in pain, my hands pulling at the cord and tears forming in my eyes. The fifth stroke had me perpetually groaning into the panty gag, and by the seventh I was sobbing uncontrollably, my cries absorbed by Kristen’s panties as I surrendered completely to her.

I don’t remember her stopping the torment, but I saw her walk into the bathroom carrying her robe as I sobbed on the table.

Finally, my sobs faded but the burning on my buttocks remained as I lay there. Suddenly, the music disappeared and a fully-dressed Kristen appeared next to me.

“I’ll let you keep my panties as a souvenir,” she said. I’ll just have to remember to be careful when I cross my legs at work today.

Kristen strolled to the door.

“Have a nice day, Timmie.”

I gingerly raised my head and, as I turned to face her, I was amazed to feel my cock desperately trying to burst through its metal confines.

“We’ll pick this up when I get back from work…don’t go anywhere.”

Kristen tossed her long black hair back, giggled girlishly, and walked out the door, shutting it behind her.

“I can’t wait until she finally understands the measure of my devotion,” I thought to myself.

It was a long and difficult day, but I somehow managed to sleep fitfully. My birdcage unfortunately woke me up from the middle of a wet dream. Then my real-live wet dream woke me up.

“I’ll e-mail you when I want to see you again,” Kristen loudly informed me when she returned.

My erection made a comeback, at least tried to, when she brushed up against me to untie my bonds.

“Prepare dinner while I freshen up, okay sweetie? And make sure that Porterhouse is bloody rare.”

Oh, god, Kristen could be so adorable. It just killed me when she acted like that. Sometimes it was easier to accept when she was cruel.

Chapter 5: Bathroom Bondage

The following evening, I nervously watched the clock tick. It was already 11pm and I was supposed to meet Mistress Kristen at midnight at a pre-arranged destination. It was at the airport which was about an hour away. It meant that I had to leave immediately, lest I anger my Mistress with my tardiness.

I parked my car in the short-term parking lot and at 11:40PM, I made my way to Terminal B. I was instructed in an e-mail to be in front of the Ladies restroom nearest to Gate B15 at midnight. I arrived with ten minutes to spare and waited. I tried to act inconspicuously and pretended to wait, which wasn’t hard to do.

I waited until 12:25, when Kristen finally arrived and nonchalantly walked into the restroom. As per e-mail instructions, I discreetly followed her in. I joined her in the far stall and wordlessly stripped off all my clothes. Kristen silently watched, her lips curling into a slight smirk. She wore a pair of jeans, a pullover black sweater, and charcoal gray mules. Her arms were folded and she impatiently tapped her right foot.

Kristen quickly put my clothes into her shoulder bag and removed a four foot length of chain and two combination padlocks. I didn’t know what to expect next.

“On your knees, Timmie…and spread your legs.”

I obliged and Kristen snugly wrapped the chain around my scrotum and locked it on with one of the padlocks. She wrapped the other end around the base of the toilet bowl and likewise locked it on with the other padlock.

“Go ahead, sweet Timmie. Try to stand.”

I attempted to get up off my knees, but could not. There just wasn’t enough slack and my testicles were pulled sharply downward causing me to hiss through my teeth.

“Put your hands together behind your back, my slavetoy.”

Kristen locked a pair of handcuffs on me and stepped back to get something out of her handbag. It was an 8″ by 10″ piece of white looseleaf paper and a roll of clear tape. She placed the paper against the inside wall of the stall and, with a thick red magic marker, she wrote the words “OUT OF ORDER.” Taping it on the outside of the stall’s door, she looked back down at me.

“Sweet Timmie, you have a very difficult night ahead of you. I have to catch a 7am flight to New York for that trade show that I told you about, so I don’t have to be back here for another six hours. Consider this your final test of devotion to me.

Suddenly she walked away into the stall next door. I heard some rustling noises and within two minutes, Kristen returned with a gift.

“Here are my panties to keep you company, my slavetoy. Try not to attract attention.”

I stared at my Mistress with glassy eyes. I couldn’t believe she would do this to me in public — in a women’s bathroom no less! She wadded the panties up into a ball and stuffed it into my mouth. She then wrapped silver duct tape over my lips and wrapped it several times around my head, before finally cutting it off from the roll and smoothing it down over my face.

Kristen picked up her bag and I watched the sweet curves of her ass as she walked out of the stall and closed the door behind her. On my knees, I stared at her shoes. Almost magically, her face appeared in the twelve inch gap between the door and the floor. Our eyes met, and she frowned at me.

“If I were you, my slavetoy, I would try to become invisible, if you know what I mean.”

I was puzzled as I heard her heels click along the tile floor until she was gone. I shivered in the cool bathroom for about a minute, digesting her last words and my current dangerous predicament. I tried to peak under the door when it hit me. My feet! They could see my feet! I put the toilet lid down and carefully climbed on top. Luckily, there was enough slack for me to kneel down. It was uncomfortable, and my testicles were drawn awkwardly back, but I was successful in “disappearing.”

As I kneeled there, I contemplated being caught. What would I say if someone found me. I went in there willingly, so I was indeed breaking the law. I was naked — lewdly naked — in a public Ladies Room. Was this considered a “sex” crime? Oh my god! If I was caught, I would be utterly destroyed, let alone mortified. There I was, nude, kneeling on a toilet in an airport women’s room with a pair of panties in my mouth, my hands cuffed behind me, and my balls chained.

Although the room was as cold as a refrigerator, I started to perspire. The terminal was fairly empty when I arrived, but that would soon change at daybreak. An hour passed until I heard a visitor enter. I shut my eyes as the click-clack of high heels got louder and louder. I heard a yawn and then a faucet running. It sounded like someone was brushing their teeth. After about ten minutes of freshening up, I hear her walk over to one of the stalls. I held my breath even as my thighs started to cramp. I hear a light tinkling as the visitor relieved her bladder. She flushed the toilet, then I heard a faucet run again. Soon the door opened and she was gone. I exhaled sharply and felt the tension drain from my body.

This process was repeated several times throughout that late evening/early morning. At approximately 4am, I heard giggling as two young women entered the bathroom. They sounded like they had just come from the airport bar. They were drunk, loud, and carrying on like sailors on leave. One of them turned on the faucet and splashed the other with water. When they started to slam the stall doors, I got VERY nervous. They chased each other throughout the bathroom, slamming the stall doors louder each time. When they finally got to my door, I froze. It opened, then slammed shut. More giggling, then it happened again. There was a pause of total silence.

“Angelina, I know I just had four margaritas, but I think there’s a man in there,” the brunette said.

“What did you say, Kalinda?” the blonde replied.

“A man…a real-live man!”

I looked down at the floor, then slowly raised my eyes as the door slowly opened.

“Oh my God, Kalinda. You’re right. Hey mister, what happened? Were you robbed or something?”

The blonde began to unravel the tape from my face as I averted my gaze from the brunette, who had a small smile on her face.

“I doubt it Angelina. His cock is wearing a Hannibal Lecter mask and it’s leaking like he’s on the rag.”

Angelina pulled Kristen’s panties from my mouth and I cleared my throat. Although this particular punishment was a surprise to me, I did know what to say from Kristen’s detailed e-mail instructions. She told me how to answer any and all question that night.

“I’m Goddess Kristen’s pet and I’m being punished for overcooking last night’s dinner.”

That’s all I was allowed to say.

“Who the hell is Goddess Kristen?” Kalinda responded with slurred speech, slightly annoyed.

“I’m Goddess Kristen’s pet and I’m being punished for overcooking last night’s dinner.”

“When will she release you?” Angelina chimed in.

“I’m Goddess Kristen’s pet and I’m being punished for overcooking last night’s dinner.”

“This is going nowhere fast,” Kalinda said. “I say we have some fun with him.”

“Is he like one of those guys from ‘East of Eden?’” Angelina asked.

“You mean ‘Exit to Eden.’ Yeah, he’s a male wimp.” Kalinda answered. “I wonder how long he’s been here.”

“Maybe we ought to re-gag him.”

“Well, his Mistress left a roll of tape here on the floor. I got an idea,” Kalinda said. “Get a couple of fresh pairs of socks out of our bag. I’ve got just the ticket.”

Kalinda started to remove her tennis shoes and roughly shoved her pink cotton socks into my mouth.

“Angelina, take off you socks. There’s still some more room in the little slaveboy’s mouth.”

The blonde handed her lavender socks to her college roommate.

“Damn! Only one fits. A-ha! I got an idea.”

Kalinda pulled her friend’s other lavender sock down the length of my birdcage until the leaky head stretched the fabric and formed a stain. The friction nearly caused me to shoot my load. I moaned.

“I think you’re turning the poor fucker on, Kalinda. I think he likes you,” the blonde giggled.

“I don’t think he’ll like me after I do this to him.”

Kalinda pulled my handcuffs back until my shoulder blades were pointing toward the floor. This put tremendous pressure on my back as the young brunette pulled a clip from her hair and attached the handcuff chain to the chain leading away from my scrotum. I was bowed backwards until someone released me from this painful position. My knees had been carrying my full body weight for nearly five hours, pressing against the porcelain lid. I was in agony as I chewed on the college vixens’ socks.

“Buh-bye honey. I hope Kristen doesn’t forget about you,” Angelina said as she left the restroom.

“Slavey-wavey, you’re in a big ole heap a trouble. I wouldn’t wanna be in yer shoes. Adios, muchacho,” Kalinda sneered as she left me.

I held back my tears, and my position, for a full hour. At approximately 6am, I heard a familiar voice.

“GOOD MORNING, MY PET! My, my…what have we here? I don’t remember doing THAT to you. You must tell me all about it one of these days, Timmie my sweet.”

It was her. It was my goddess. It was my wonderful Kristen. I never felt such joy…or such shame, for burning her dinner.

“Hmmmm…Ya know what? I think I’ll keep you. Whaddya think, my slavetoy?”

I couldn’t answer, obviously. All I could do was cry…and cry…and cry.

Chaste Husband 9 – She Wants a Real Man

. My heart sunk when she told me we needed to sit down and talk, but she was smiling and took my hand encouraging me to sit next to her on the sofa, instead of next to it like before. However, things started off with the worst thing I could hear.

“I’m sorry darling, but I still want to start seeing other people. It’s just what I need to do.” She said slowly, pausing to let it sink in. “You’re a wonderful person and I love the way you’re trying your best, but let’s be honest … you don’t really make the grade in the bedroom. It’s not just your size, but you’ve always suffered from premature ejaculation and…well…you’re TOO sensitive… I want a man to take me, fuck me, not spend ages kneeling between my thighs worrying about making me come. I don’t want to leave you but that’s the only other option.”

I burst into tears and she took me in her arms and reassured me, through my sobs, that she wouldn’t leave me if I agreed to this one thing and that in time I would get use to our new relationship. We spoke for hours, holding hands, our fingers entwined, with me trying every other permutation to get around this. I would become more dominant in bed, we could get viagra or delay spray or a strap-on. It seemed like she had thought it all through and had an answer for everything. She certainly didn’t want me using a strap-on on her – not when she could “get the real thing.” I asked how I could prove I loved her if we couldn’t make love together? She simply said that wearing the CB-3000 was not only proof that I loved her, but that she also owned me. Once I was sure she really did want to stay with me and this would be something totally outside of our relationship I reluctantly accepted her right to see other people. It’s the hardest decision of my life I knew I couldn’t live without her so we did agree I would become a cuckold but on certain conditions.

1/ I would not have to meet her lovers. The whole idea horrifies me.
2/ She would not be sleeping around like a whore. It will be monogamous relationships with just one guy at a time.
3/ She would be totally discreet. Neither of us want our friends, family, neighbours or work colleagues to know. “I don’t want people to think I’m a slut or using you.”
4/ She would always use condoms unless she started “going steady” with a guy.

I know these conditions may not sound a lot but it did make me feel like I still had some say and control over the situation.

It was gone four before we finally went to bed, talking about all sorts of things; when we were kids, old boyfriends and girlfriends, funny memories. We hadn’t talked like this since we first met. I suddenly realised that perhaps Angelina was right, this could bring us closer together and deepen and strengthen our relationship. We went to bed and snuggled up together. Angelina actually started to kiss me deeply, her tongue invading and exploring my mouth, her hands gently caressing me, I was in seventh heaven until I moan in pain as I started to get excited for the first time in a couple of weeks and remembered the POI fitted to my CB-3000. Points of Intrigue? More like Points of Hell!!!

“Goodnight Chastityboy,” she said with a giggle, patting my groin and turned the table lamp off. We lay there cuddled up like two spoons and I felt safe and warm lying next to the most amazing and beautiful woman on the planet. I know this isn’t going to be easy, but living without her would be impossible. I can’t deny I’m scared…but at the same time somehow excited that we have a future together, however unorthodox.

Originally posted 2008-03-26 06:00:17.

Male Weakling : 4


She sat with her childhood photo album, occasionally stripping away the plastic sheet to remove a shot.


Wearing tight, white Fruit-of-the-Loom underwear – and nothing else – I scrubbed the hardwood floor of her apartment. I heard the sound of another photograph being ripped up.


She tossed the shredded bits of FujiFilm paper onto the floor, and I hustled over to collect them, and put them in the trash bin. She didn’t like her place to get messy – even when she was creating the mess.

I looked at the fragmentary images as I gathered them from the floor: her father, her uncle, her older brother – whom she used to routinely beat up – her step-father, an old boyfriend…

“If only I could’ve known then,” she said, “What I know now.”

I was silent. I could just imagine her, a sixteen-year-old, sitting in a car with some poor, love-struck chump: he – his hand trembling – reaching over to kiss her – a shy, inexperienced boy – and she plunging her tongue into the full depth of his mouth, pressing her hand into his crotch, gripping his balls and demanding, “Big enough for me, boy?” -his surprised whimper mingling with her full, proud laugh. She mounting his erection, pounding her hips against his prone body, tugging his hair back to see his face of submission. Moments later smacking him around for ejaculating too soon – beating him to tears for not satisfying her. Grabbing him by the balls, demanding one good reason why she should let a flaccid twerp like him go on pretending to be a man – in her world. Why she should -

“You idiot!”

She yelled at me: the buzzer in the kitchen had gone off. I felt myself begin shaking. I scrambled to my feet to take her cake out of the oven. I tried to get into the kitchen as fast as I could, but she bounded off of the bed and intercepted me at the kitchen door.

“I told you not to let it burn, you fucking moron!”

I was shaking; I felt myself go pale.

“I’m sorry: I was…I was trying to clean a spot off the floor, so I-”

“That’s no fucking excuse!”

She reached around my head and grabbed the back of my hair. She jerked my head back violently – I heard myself let out a cry – then she smacked my cheek with her palm. My face stung.

“You brainless, fucking coward! You miserable, stupid goon! How dare you ignore my demands!”

I quivered: I knew that wasn’t the end of it. She slammed her fist into my stomach, and – gasping for air – I doubled over. Gripping my hair with both of her hands, she held my head right in front of her pussy. She pounded the back of my head with her hand three times, then held my face there — right in front of her pussy — for about a minute. Then she spoke again.

“Put your hands on the floor.”

I felt tears well up in my eyes: I knew what was coming. Dutifully, I touched my fingers against the floor while keeping my legs straight. I stayed like that – bent over – while she went to the closet. About two minutes later, I heard her footsteps move up behind me.

She stripped down my underwear. I was crying; I heard myself beg: “Don’t,” I was saying, “Please don’t, Ma’am, please don’t – I’m not so bad, Ma’am…please don’t…”

She wasn’t listening. She was smearing jelly on the twelve inch dildo strapped around her waist. While I continued my whimpering, she reached around my waist and grabbed my testicles.

“You fucked up again, boy.”

With my masculinity being crunched in her fist, I felt the tip of her rod between my cheeks.

“You need to be reminded.”

I couldn’t stop shaking. She held my balls with one hand, and a lock of my hair with the other. Pulling back my head, she slammed into me: she broke the gates of my body, and laughed as I tried to muffle my scream. On the first thrust, she hammered the dildo into me to the hilt. I felt like I was being ripped apart inside – my whole backside hurt terribly, almost up to my stomach. She pulled half way out, then pounded into me again. I heard myself wailing as she pulled out, then impaled me again; pulled out, then drove into me again…

When she finally got bored of me weeping and begging, she pulled out all the way. I fell to the floor, clutching at my body. After she removed the strap-on, then grabbed me by the arm and forced me to lie on my back, facing up at her. She yanked my legs apart, exposing my limp, limp cock. My jelly-like balls. And she moved down on me, laying her hot, moist vagina against my genitals. She grabbed a lock of my hair, forcing me to make eye contact with her, then slapped me across the face. She pounded her mons against my penis, then reached down and yanked at my testicles, only releasing them right before, I’m sure, they were about to come off. She spat at me:


She made me get hard, then she raped me. When she was done, she made me finish cleaning the floor.

By the time I was done cleaning the floor, the cake was completely burned. She took it out of the oven; she removed it from the pan, set it on a plate, then placed it on the floor. Its charred surface still smoking, she made me sit on it – nude – for thirty-five minutes: the exact time it should have been in the oven.

While the cake burned against my ass and my scrotum, she took several Polaroids of me sitting there. She put the Polaroids in her photo album, replacing the old pictures of the men she had ripped up.

Continued …

Originally posted 2009-01-21 15:00:01.

Sweet, Young, Female Led Relationship

Dominant girlfriend and submissive boyfriend.


Chaste Husband 18 – Not Her Man

Working extra hours at work and then getting home, having to shave, put my make-up and female clothes on, make dinner and do my chores is a real drag (no pun intended), but that’s not to say I really mind that much. Miss A and I did sit down and have a long chat after my last post, and it did make me come to realise and understand certain things. I know now that is laughable for me to “be her man” because I can’t be.

Allowing my masculinity to be locked away, accepting dressing as a girl but most importantly “accepting” Miss A’s relationship with Chris changed how she thought and looked at me. She did admit that although she still loved me, she was not “in love” with me. I have to admit it did make me cry, but she was so soft and sensitive and we ended up cuddling into the early hours.

So the outcome?

Yes, I am still wearing the CB-3000. To be honest it’s so long since I even started to get aroused it doesn’t even feel like I could or ever did.

Yes, I am still dressing as a girl; underwear all day and full make-up, my wig, clothes and heels in the evening and at weekends.

The one positive thing is Miss A is not interested in getting a new boyfriend, although she did admit if she met a guy she liked she would start seeing him. As you can imagine I have, literally, been bending over backwards to keep her happy (she is still pretty cut up and upset about Chris) and make her life as easy and fun as possible. She has taken the break-up out on me somewhat, but I suppose that’s to be expected, as we are so close. She does have Miss A Catherine, but she hasn’t spent that muh time with her because Tony is one of Chris’s best friends. I do think she feels that Chris may have been scared off because of me, and she did insinuate that if I’d been “more of a man” she would never had to start seeing him in the first place. I suppose she has a point. I’m glad that it’s just us two again and I really am trying my best to make this work and keep us together.

Things have got “back to normal” so to speak, although the first Sunday after we had our heart-to-heart I was punished far more than I had before. I had my hands cuffed behind my back, as I do every Sunday when I am unlocked and cleaned. Miss A came up and gave me a hug…for a moment I thought it would lead to some intimacy between us…and in a way I suppose it did. Before I knew anything about it she’d quickly raised her knee between my legs. I fell to the floor in agony, banging the side of my head on the bath. I could hardly breath, it felt like my testicles had been pushed up into my stomach and I was in a cold sweat. Miss A quickly knelt next to me,

“Are you OK?” she asked with a real look of concern and worry on her face.

I tried to answer but all the breath had been knocked out of me and I could only nod.

“I’m so sorry, darling, but you know you deserved that?”

Again I could only nod.

For the rest of the day I had a dull ache in my testicles, which I suppose served as a reminder that I will never be “her man” and I had no right to even suggest it. I shan’t even be thinking of it again.

Originally posted 2008-04-18 14:30:36.

Male Weakling : 2

I became anxious toward bedtime. We still hadn’t spoken, but I knew that we would have some sort of confrontation in bed. She would want me to have sex with her, but I was wounded; I felt like she had totally humbled me – buried my masculinity in inferiority. And I didn’t know how to approach her. How could I be aggressive now? I was obviously not the sexually dominant party. And how much could I deliver anyway? But if she made moves on me, I would feel like I had to redeem myself. And I felt like my sexuality wasn’t enough for her; after the work-out earlier in the day, how could I possibly fulfill her now? Her vagina would devour me, and I’d just leave her unsatisfied again. What would she do then? She had gotten really impatient with me earlier; what if she got more impatient now? I recognized two kinds of feelings in myself now: Anger at her for belittling me, even if it was deserved: and fear. For the first time, I recognized that I was afraid of a woman. She had the power to make me feel totally inadequate. There was no way I could take away her femininity, but she – a strong woman – could strip me of my masculinity with just a few moments in the sack. I felt, looking back on it, that when she stopped me into the doorway and rubbed her hand from my asshole across my balls, pressing them against my body with her palm, that she was telling me: “David, when you couldn’t handle me earlier today – when I gripped your useless little nuts – I castrated you. I castrated you.” Getting ready for bed – the two of us still in silence – I felt like a eunuch.

She lay in bed, naked. The only light on was my reading lamp. I stood at the side of the bed, and realized that if I didn’t take off my boxers, it would be stupid. I would look ridiculous – I always slept naked, as did she. So I pulled down my boxers. As I reached for the light – before getting into bed – I saw her staring at my crotch. At my flaccid penis. She had a look of hostile disappointment.

I lay on my back, rigidly. I began to think she was just going to let me go to sleep, without trying to have sex with my again. But then, while my mind slowly dissolved into sleep, while I lay on my side facing away from her, I felt her turn over, and she banged her knee against my ass. I was jolted into fearful awakeness. Although she had definitely kneed me – definitely wanted me to hurt a little – I didn’t say anything. I wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. But then it happened again: harder. And – maybe it was the darkness, maybe it was my total confusion about what was going on – I felt tears well up in my eyes. I prayed that she would just think, OK, I’ve punished him enough; I’ll let him sleep. But then she did it again – this time making sure to drive her knee evenly between my buttocks (but mercifully not striking my balls). Against my will, I cried out.

“What’s the matter, David? Hm?”

She moved up to me, pressed herself against me. I could feel her firm breasts pushing into my back. She made a couple of little thrusts against my ass with her pelvis, then reached around my waist for my testicles.

“Something wrong, little baby?”

I instinctively pressed my legs together, trying to prevent her from touching my balls. I sandwiched them between my legs hard – it hurt, but I felt safer. She instantly recognized what I was doing, and yanked ferociously on my penis. Again letting the illusion of “masculinity” slip away, I cried out. She laughed, and tugged me more. But I realized she could wail on my penis all she wanted; it was, compared to my balls, invulnerable. I kept my legs closed, even if crushing my nuts slightly.

She would have none of it. Of course my scrotum was still partly exposed, and she drove her fingernails into it, until I had to yield to her. I was starting to cry; I opened my legs for her, and she was not in the least bit merciful because I surrendered: she grabbed my nuts in her fist and chuckled.

“Are you going to fuck me now, David? Are you going to pretend to be a man and satisfy me, or am I going to take the broomstick from the closet, gag you with a fucking towel, then ream you until you bleed all over the floor?”

I heard myself whimpering, and I heard her laughing.

“You’re such a little wimp, David. I should never have gotten involved with a boy as dickless as you. I could eat your little nuts for a snack.”

I heard myself weeping. She held me around the waist, gripping my weak masculine flesh – utterly dominating me.

“If only some of your boyfriends were over, David. Maybe then I’d get satisfied; I’d screw them all one at a time – hell, two at a time – then make you slurp their cum from my asshole, then fuck you silly with them all watching what a dickless little twerp you are.”

She laughed, then bit my on the back of the neck. I cried out; I felt like she broke skin, made me bleed.

“Wait!” she shouted, “Wait a minute here. Men are supposed to be stronger in battle, aren’t they? Men are supposed to have greater upper body strength than women. And if you forget their little nuts” – she gave mine an extra squeeze, making my insides jump – “they’ve got a HUGE edge over women, don’t they?”

She lept off the bed, then commanded me to get to my feet. When I lay there quivering, afraid to move, she slapped my face with her palm, HARD.

“Get on your feet, stupid boy! Get on your fucking feet!”

Continued …

Originally posted 2009-01-15 15:00:05.

Cruel Delilah: Real Adventures of a Cuckoldress

By Akasha

Delilah selected the posh downtown Hollywood hotel for a reason. It had a great location, a great suite with a view, and the lobby held a certain flair that appealed to her. She envisioned bringing many men there at one time in her life – but this time, it was really much more simple. There was one thing she wanted to do, and her slaveboy (well, man, really) was going to assist her with it.

This man – Brad – was a simple man, really. He was pleasant, classy, charming. He had traditional corporate good looks, a fairly decent body, but a pathetically small cock. Delilah liked to tease him relentlessly about this, and it always made her wet when he squirmed, visibly uncomfortable, as she stared and poked and laughed at his small member.

But Brad adored her and would do anything for her. That’s why they were such a good couple. Delilah was delicious, gorgeous and cruel – and Brad ate up every last bit of it, because he was a masochist and a pure whore at heart, and nothing thrilled him more than to see that delight in her eyes when she made him feel pathetic.

It was the second anniversary of their first date when she made Brad take her to the beautiful hotel. She wore an elegant sundress and sandals over her perfectly painted pretty toes, and he followed behind her a few paces with the luggage as she flirted with the bellmen and seemed to immediately have the young men drooling and watching her every move.

Brad could only watch and long for her attention. It was at times like this that he was reminded that she was the goddess and he was merely a tool for her – his devotion could only get him so far. At times like this it was like he did not exist. He was entirely forgettable. He just stood there next to the pile of luggage as two college-aged bellmen hustled around her to answer her whispers, not even acknowledging the existence of Brad.

Of course, when they realized he was with Delilah and the bags were indeed, hers, the boys climbed over each other to get to them and load them onto the cart for the ride up to her room.

“Nevermind that,” Delilah smiled behind her big sunglasses. “He’ll get my bags.”

This froze the tanned, gawking bellmen in their tracks for a moment, until Delilah added, “Oh, no. I still want you to come up. But he can carry the bags. You can open the door, dear.”

The bellmen looked at each other and pointed and chuckled, and one said, “Him or me?”

“Or both of us?”

“Him,” Delilah pointed. “You.” Her fingers touched the plastic name tag that read simple, “Jackson.”

“What a handsome name,” she smiled. Jackson blushed.

Brad pushed the cart that carried seven bags. Seven bags for an overnight stay. You could just never pack enough, Delilah would always tell him. Because she never knew what she would need.

Seven bags, and only one of them included any clothing.

Six bags, all leather, all toys, all devices. Brad held the cart as the elevator door closed, and he looked over to see Delilah smiling at Jackson, smiling at him as if he was prey. The sound in the elevator was simply the shuffling of his feet a little, the clearing of his throat, and Brad’s nervous, uncomfortable heartbeat.


Delilah did end up making Jackson unload the bags off the cart, telling the boy that he would need to earn his few dollars and that she wanted to watch him bend over. He blushed at the remark and kept looking awkwardly at Brad, probably wondering if the man was a driver, a lover, or a personal assistant. Brad was older than Delilah, who was older than she looked, but Brad had a forgettable quality because he’d become so good at being invisible when Delilah was prowling.

He was content to watch her, actually, because it thrilled him to see her in action, to see her start to get excited over the prospect of new prey. In no time she had the unassuming bellman in a bit of a trance, hoping to get laid, probably, but at the very least excited by the attention he was receiving from a beautiful lady.

Jackson took the handful of dollars eagerly, but really lingered in the room just to take in her figure and perhaps extend the fantasy a little. Delilah smiled at him and then told him she’d call down later to have him come up and move the furniture around. The comment made him laugh, but as he exited the room, his smile changed to a look of wonder as he realized she wasn’t joking.

After the door closed, Delilah snapped her fingers and Brad moved beside her, kneeling, absolutely on command, automatically. His eyes were shut at once.

She pulled up her dress, took him by the back of the head, and shoved his face into her pussy, pressing it tightly against the front of her panties. They were moist beyond words. He inhaled her scent.

“Jackson was nice to look at. Don’t you think?”

She was making a point to him. Brad got the message loud and clear. Her grip was firm, though, and it was obvious she was going to keep his face mashed against her panties, up against the lace, until little indentations appeared on his cheeks as if he’d slept wrong on the covers all night.

“I bet Jackson has a big dick” Delilah mused.

Brad could practically feel, smell, hear her getting wetter. Her fingers tightened in his hair. They tightened until he had to bite his lip to hold back a whimper.

Delilah appeared to be contemplating something, fantasizing out loud. “I bet young Jackson could fuck for hours, simply hours, and his big dick would feel so good in my pussy. Don’t you agree, tiny dick?”

The words hit him, went through him, made him shake a little. Brad was shaking and he didn’t know why. He didn’t want to get caught up in the wonder of why such humiliating statements excited him so much, because he wanted to enjoy the moment. He resigned himself to analyze later, as he always did, but never got around to.

Delilah’s grip tightened even more, and she parted her legs a little, inhaled, and said simply, “Tongue.”

This was Brad’s order to open his mouth and use his tongue, somehow, any way, to indulge her. It didn’t matter that her dress was up over his head, that her panties were still on. These were his problems. She was busy, he knew that, busy with her own thoughts – thoughts of Jackson’s cock. So he tried as best he could to get his tongue working under the elastic of the panties, or prodding over the top, doing anything to get close to her skin, to her clit, without disrupting her thoughts too much by banging her around with his head.

This was a delicate dance he’d learned many times. When she wanted tongue, he had to figure it out, and not bother her about it. He had to just obey, to find a way, and to hope he could do so in a manner that pleased her.

Her grip loosened a little on his head, a subtle indication that he was at least going in the right direction. “Yes,” she pondered out loud, “Jackson would be a nice fuck. But I don’t really have time for that. I have other plans for tonight. Plans….for you, Brad. You and your little cock…”

Brad’s eyes were closed, tongue was busy. He could hear the words, barely, as he pursued his task, trying so hard to please her, to make her more wet, to color the fantasy she was having by adding pleasure. It didn’t matter that she was thinking about Jackson’s cock, not his. All that mattered was that she was happy, and all that he wanted to hear were her moans of pleasure. At any cost.


Brad was hogtied on the floor as Delilah stood in nothing but stilettos, bra and panties.

She was walking across the floor with a big wad of money in her hand, many bills she’d pulled from one of the large suitcases as she unloaded toys, lingerie, outfits and devices, some of which he had never seen before.

Delilah started stacking the dollars across the nightstand, stopping to dance suggestively now and then, as the CD player in the room was cranked up with some alternative music that he found loud and somewhat obnoxious – but incredibly erotic when her hips were moving to it.

Delilah was in her own world, not even watching him struggle anymore (oh, how she loved to watch him struggle, sometimes just sitting and playing with her pussy for hours as he writhed, wriggled and groaned uncomfortably). She was stacking up the bills in a manner that looked like something out of a gangster movie when the bad guys were counting up their dough after robbing a bank.

The bills were crisp and stacked up nicely. Brad could not tell if they were tens, twenties or even hundreds.

“This is Brad’s money,” Delilah grinned, looking back over at him and giving him a nod which indicated that she wanted to see some struggling. Brad struggled.

“This is all Brad’s cash, and it’s here for a reason. Do you want to know what it’s for, Bradley bitch?”

Brad was afraid to ask, but he wasn’t gagged, so he went ahead and spoke. “What’s it for, Delilah?”

She smiled. Delilah walked over and lifted her leg slowly and deliberately, bringing it down to press her heel on Brad’s naked, tiny cock. “Oh, careful, I might smash that tiny little dick,” she teased. “Can my heel cover the entire thing? I bet it can. Does that hurt?”

Brad winced. He was used to this game, sadly. So many times Delilah had smashed, stepped on, poked and nearly punctured his penis with her heel. She did that when she wanted him to pay close attention to what she was saying, but it always did more to distract him. And even though he was struggling, hogtied, unable to protect himself as she pressed her spiked heel into his cock and leveraged it against his thigh, he found himself getting excited.

It wasn’t the pain or humiliation that excited him; it was the look on her face, the pleasure and amusement. She was glowing, electrified, excited, enraptured and he could tell her imagination was running wild with scenarios, ideas and plans that required a hotel room and seven pieces of luggage. This was unpredictable, cruel, insatiable Delilah.

He whimpered.

“The money is for tonight,” she continued, finally, now looking down on him to poke, prod, and pump her heel on and off his member, almost amused, experimenting. “I took thousands of dollars out of your account tonight because YOU – “she stopped to press deliberately hard right into the base of his cock, until he gasped. “YOU – are going to go out tonight, to Hollywood boulevard, and get me a hooker!”

Brad didn’t really hear that part, as the pain was making him shut his eyes tight, grimace, and see stars. But he felt her breath on his cheek when she crouched down, removing her heel finally, taking his chin in her hand and saying more clearly, “Brad is going to go out tonight and find me a MALE prostitute! And you are going to bring him back to the room and be a little bitch for me while I enjoy a real cock.”

Brad started to speak, and realized, half way through, that his words were a terrible mistake. “But…why don’t…why don’t you just call Jackson… he’s will –“Brad stopped and gasped in pain as he felt the familiar, ruthless grip of her fist around his balls. She gripped, squeezed, twisted and pulled.

“I don’t WANT Jackson. I want a WHORE. I want a streetwalker, with a BIG huge dick, and one that will do ANYTHING for money. Even more of a whore than you are!”

Brad got the message loud and clear, but he was still seeing stars when she rolled him over, spread his ass cheeks and started feverishly pumping her fingers in and out of his asshole – lubing it before shoving a large plug inside, then slapping his ass cheeks until they were red. Just playfully. Brad was breathing hard, his small cock fully erect to four inches, his ass pounding and his cheeks hot.

Delilah stood up and left him there on the floor as she mixed a cocktail, then stacked up the dollars into one large pile and went to the closet. “First, you will get me dressed. I want to be smoking hot for the male hooker, and while you get me ready, I’ll tell you what I want you to bring back. I don’t want to be disappointed, you see. I want your money to go to good use. And since you’ll be sucking his dick for me, I want to make sure he’s got a nice big cock. Even though everyone has a bigger cock than you!” Delilah burst out laughing.

“Untie yourself and then put on your pink teddy,” Delilah ordered. She bent over to release the one metal tie clasp that would allow him enough freedom to wriggle and writhe out of the hogtie. “Once you are dressed in your best cunt outfit, we’ll get my look together. We’re going to have such a nice evening!”


An hour later, Brad was playing wardrobe assistant while wearing nothing but a tight, uncomfortable, humiliating pink corset, thigh high stockings and lace panties. Delilah lounged in main part of the suite and smoked a cigarette casually, making a few phone calls to girlfriends and occasionally barking a seductive order.

Brad hustled, keenly aware of his uncomfortable erection in the panties and the too-tight feeling of the plug as he moved around the room. He heard her in the next room as he rummaged through the large closet, trying to find the boots she had described to him. He could hear her calling room service and ordering a bottle of champagne.

Next, he heard her instruct the room service staff to have Jackson bring it up, then he heard her provide explicit instructions about it, making sure they were aware of her account with the hotel, her connections with the hotel manager and her status. It did not take long for him to realize how much the wait staff was going to be hustling, which meant in no time Jackson would be knocking eagerly at the door with the room service cart.

Immediately Brad was distracted, horrified, mortified, at what he knew Delilah was up to. He sheepishly brought the boots into the next room and she shook her head. “Not those ones. You stupid bitch. Get me the leather boots. Then go answer the door. There will be a knock momentarily.”

Brad wanted to sink into a hole and disappear. “Can I put on some clothes?”

“You’re wearing clothes.”


Delilah laughed and put out her cigarette. “Fine then. I will answer the door. You go run off and hide in the closet then, and don’t come out until I tell you that you can. Remember, this was your choice, Brad!”

He watched as she made her way to the door. Delilah was now dressed in only smoking hot black lingerie, high heels, her make up and hair done dramatically, her body smashing. When she opened the door in that to the waiting Jackson, he’d be ready to die on the spot, sure he’d died and gone to heaven, and Brad would be curled up in a ball hiding in the closet until she was done – which could be hours.

It was that, or answer the door in pink lingerie with a tiny erect penis popping out of a too-tiny thong, humiliated, as Delilah laughed and pushed him aside and probably made some cruel comment.

Ironically, it was impossible for Brad to determine which scenario turned him on more.

Dejected, he retreated into the closet and closed the door, mostly because he did not want to risk offending Jackson with the sight of his large, bulging body in the pink lingerie. Instead, he found himself surrounded and assaulted with the scents of Delilah; her leather wardrobe, the various pairs of panties, many still wet, tossed inside the confines of the closet. Dirty lingerie, black shiny rubber, and an assortment of toys joined him in the cramped space. He heard the popping of the champagne bottle, the deep laughter of a bellman obviously pinching himself because he was sure he must be dreaming.

Then he heard the familiar moans of sweet Delilah being fucked; she choose the place on the floor right next to the closet, her legs probably up over her head, and by the sounds of it, Jackson did have a huge, wonderful cock.


Brad counted four orgasms and three positions, and it was more than 90 minutes before Jackson was allowed to leave the room. Not until she tipped him though – with Brad’s money.

“Holy shit,” he heard the young bellman exclaim. “I can’t take that.”

“Take it,” Delilah ordered. “It’s not my money, it’s my boyfriend’s.”

“I can’t take two thousand dollars! That’s not a tip, that’s — “

“Take it.” She ordered. “I insist. I get wet when I use my man’s money that way.”

Brad shut his eyes tight. He realized he had jumped the gun – they weren’t over at all. They were just getting started. He heard the familiar sounds again, kissing, moaning, and then fucking. This time, Jackson lasted 30 more minutes.


Brad fell asleep in the closet but awoke with a start when Delilah opened the door. He came pouring out of the closet as he was leaning against the door, waking up when his cheek hit the ground.

She laughed out loud. Brad looked up to see her standing there, disheveled a bit but still beautiful, holding a glass of champagne. She opened her legs a little. “Cum’s dripping down my thigh. Lick it up,” she said. It was so matter-of-fact for Delilah.

Brad struggled, cramped from being in the small space, but managed to kneel upright and move his face to her leg and open his mouth, letting his tongue lap up the creamy clear-white fluid that was indeed trailing down her thigh.

“I saved some champagne for you,” she smiled, reaching to the countertop and taking the glass that was placed there.

Brad looked up, licking his lips, tasking the young man’s cum. He did expect her to have a glass of champagne, but realized all too quickly that of course that’d be too easy. Not Delilah.

No, she had a glass in her hand for him, and a smile that made her look like she’d just won the lottery – pleasantly fucked, glowing, gloating. And in her hand was a champagne flute for him.

Half full of cum.


Part of Brad thought maybe Delilah had “spent” enough money and got what she wanted out of Jackson and would dismiss the dreaded hooker idea, but he was mistaken. In no time, after watching him lick clean the glass of Jackson’s cum, she was ordering him to help her freshen up and providing him a list of criteria for his male gigolo-expedition.

She was explicit about what she wanted. The male prostitute had to be young, built, have a huge cock (black would be ideal, if his dick was humongous, although “Any guy looks huge next to your little pecker”), and be clean in appearance, not a junkie, no drugs, and not look or act gay. Delilah told Brad that if he came back empty handed or came back with a guy who looked like crap, was a street whore or drug addict, she’d spend the evening kneeing Brad in the nuts until he cried like a little girl. He knew she meant business.

After much begging, Delilah did allow Brad to put some clothes on over his lingerie. She was going to tell him no, after all, the transaction was going to be made from the safe confines of his car and the gigolo would not see his cute pink teddy until he got in the car anyway. And who cares – Brad was a paying customer. But he pleaded with her, and she let him put on shorts and a t-shirt that barely covered him up.

Delilah gave him a time limit of one hour and as he left she was curling her long, beautiful brown hair, sitting at the vanity in nothing but a short cami and black thong panty. Her hot outfit was on the bed, ready for her, and her shoes were lined up perfectly so she could make a selection. The stacks of twenty dollar bills were still lining the dresser table.

Off Brad went, horny and leaking, to scour the streets of West Hollywood in search of a young, hot, hung stud with a big cock so his lovely Delilah could pay him to get his dick sucked.

He had never been more turned on and ashamed.


Brad “shopped” intensely with Delilah’s instructions in mind, wanting so desperately to bring home a prize she’d be pleased with. He found himself looking at the prospects in a manner that seemed to excite and arouse him as he was thinking so much of her pleasure and satisfaction. It became surreal how much looking at these men made him hard and horny and how he found himself imagining the feel of their dicks in his mouth. But mostly he was imagining her wonderful, pleasing moans of ecstasy as she watched and participated. He felt the panties getting incredibly tight, making it uncomfortable to drive.

Nervously watching for police, Brad leaned out his window and awkwardly conducted quick interviews with the laughing, smoking male hookers, some of whom took a liking to Brad at once, probably because of his Mercedes and look of wealth. But the ones that approached him seemed too gay, and he knew Delilah didn’t want that. So he pressed on, getting more nervous and worried as time ticked by.

He imagined waiting Delilah, back in her room, legs open in the large chair at the vanity, playing with herself in the mirror. Delilah liked to masturbate in the mirror, sometimes she would make Brad watch her while she watched herself, her toes curling into the mirror as her legs were up on her own vanity at home, her pink vibe sliding in and out, deep and inside, her hips thrusting as she wailed in pleasure.

Brad stopped himself as he tensed and twitched uncomfortably, awkwardly in his car seat. He stopped at a corner and looked out, spying a younger looking, tall, dark haired man standing nearby. The man caught his glance and walked over, leaning down, smiling. “What’s your name?” he asked in a deep voice. He looked European.

“Brad,” was his response. He stared at the handsome gentleman – he knew his dark, European looks would please Delilah. “How old are you?”

“Old enough,” the man smiled. “My name is Jeremy. Can I get in?”

Brad nodded, and Jeremy came around and got into the car. He was in jeans, a leather jacket, nice shoes. He didn’t look like he was homeless. He was wearing a nice watch and some jewelry.

“You a cop?” Jeremy asked, still pleasant, smiling, very casual.

“No,” Brad responded, watching the young man put on his seatbelt.

“Then let’s go,” he said, leaning back into the seat, admiring the inside of the automobile.

Brad was excited. He could smell a little bit of cologne. Jeremy looked clean, presentable, and he had a big, thick bulge in his jeans. Brad thought about asking how big he was, just to be sure he’d meet Delilah’s satisfaction, but even the outline in his jeans told a story. Besides, he only had fifteen minutes to get back to the hotel, and he could not keep his Mistress waiting too long.


Brad could not find a way to explain anything to Jeremy, who occupied his time adjusting the car radio, singing a little, and then sending some text messages on his phone. Jeremy said something about five hundred dollars and condoms and Brad just nodded and said that was fine, focusing on his car speed and the urgent matter at hand.

Brad’s heart was pounding, so nervous, thinking of what Delilah would think of the prize he was bringing back to the hotel. His mind wandered to what it was going to be like when he sucked the strange man’s cock, and if Delilah would let him use a condom since the man was a whore. He wondered if she was going to fuck the hooker in front of him and make him watch, and how much she would humiliate him about his small penis and inadequate abilities in bed.

Nothing really mattered, though, except the smile she would have and her pleasure, her amusement in the evening. Brad knew that Delilah clearly was electrified by this fantasy and reality and was probably well on her way to her third self-inflicted orgasm by the time her brought Jeremy through the lobby and to the elevator.

“You in town on business?” Jeremy asked as Brad pushed the button for the 17th floor.

“Kind of,” Brad responded. When the doors closed, Jeremy reached over and put his hand on Brad’s crotch, making him jump and push his hand away. It was unexpected and uncomfortable.

“Easy, there,” Jeremy laughed. “Sorry. First time? You straight? Curious?”

The door dinged. Brad cleared his throat. He wondered at that moment if he really knew what he was getting himself into.


Brad was obviously ten times more nervous than Jeremy (who was not nervous at all, not that Brad could tell at least), but then again, Brad had a lot more on the line than the hooker did. If he disappointed Delilah, it would be a long night. It was going to be a long night anyway, with cruel Delilah, but disappointed Delilah was an entirely different dilemma.

By the look on her face, Delilah was not disappointed. Brad took her all in as if seeing her for the very first time – she was simply captivating, so beautiful, so sexy, wearing a tight black dress, showing off fine toned legs with sexy five inch heels. Of course, Jeremy was gay, or at least presented himself as gay, so he probably was not as impacted – more so, he was kind of puzzled.

“Well, aren’t you a handsome thing,” Delilah smiled and walked over, holding out her hand to make an introduction. “Delilah,” she beamed, looking the man up and down slowly, tilting her head slightly to take a longer gaze at the visible bulge in his jeans.

“Jeremy,” he smiled back, then looked at Brad, curious, put his hands in his pockets, and said “So what’s going on?”

“The shower,” Delilah instructed, and put her hands on Jeremy’s shoulders, spinning him toward the bathroom and giving him a shove. “You’re getting cleaned up, then Brad is going to suck your dick, then you are going to fuck me.”

“Cool,” was Jeremy’s simple response, as Brad felt twitching in his panties, a flushing warmth in his cheeks, a familiar tension building in his frame. The plug was still nestled tightly way up into his ass cavity, and the shuddering in his bones made the plug even more uncomfortable and ever evident. He stood there, unsure of what to even do with himself, as he heard the water come on in the bathroom shower and some laughter erupting.

As if on cue, Delilah emerged, taking off her earrings and slipping off her shoes. It was clear she was going into the shower also. In a moment, her dress was off and she flung it at Brad and the fabric slapped over his face. When he pulled it down, her panties smacked him in the face. “Hang up my clothes, bitch,” she ordered. “Then get undressed, down to your sissy lingerie, kneel down, and wait by the bed sucking on your large dildo like it’s a pacifier. See you in twenty minutes.”

And that was that. Brad stood there, holding her dress, her stockings, bending over to pick up the rest of her clothes and lingerie as he watched her naked, perfect ass dart into the bathroom. She left the door wide open so he could hear everything, of course, from the moans to the laughter, the splashing of the water, and her commentary on the size and thickness of Jeremy’s perfect cock.

Brad, now in nothing but a too-tight pink ensemble of sissy lingerie, found himself kneeling bedside as instructed, sucking a large, thick flesh colored dildo obediently. Up and down he went, sucking, slurping, eyes closed, concentrating on it, realizing that soon he’d be deep throating the entire length of Jeremy’s perfect dick as Delilah watched. Maybe she would circle around him and give instructions, reaching over to poke at Brad’s miniature erect penis. Maybe she’d stand behind him and spank his ass with a paddle to force him to go deeper. Or, if she was in a certain mood, she’d just sit there a few feet away and masturbate with her thin vibe, cumming again and again as the well hung man came all over Brad’s face or in his mouth.

As usual, Brad had no idea what his fate would be. He just remained kneeling there, reaching down occasionally to shift his small package in the too-tight panties, trying to assemble some level of comfort despite the growing fear and dread mixed with anxious excitement.

If nothing else, his jaw was clearly now stretched out and he was ready to accommodate Jeremy’s dick after twenty five minutes of practicing. So when the man emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and Delilah trailing behind him naked, he thought he’d be ready.

Truth be told, Brad was never ready. It was always like the first time again.


Delilah crouched down and got close to Brad’s face, and her smile illuminated his world. He could smell wet pussy, it was as if her arousal seemed to permeate her entire being when she was that hot, that full of lust. Indeed, she was full of lust – lust for Jeremy, the gorgeous, perfectly built hooker who was there for $500 an hour. $500 an hour of Brad’s money.

Delilah smiled her big, pleased grin and put a finger under Brad’s chin. “Is tiny dick ready to suck a real cock for me?”

Brad was staring at Delilah, shaking a little, barely aware of the presence of another man in the room, who was off behind him pouring some champagne or inventorying the gear that was spread out everywhere. Maybe he was admiring the tall stack of twenty dollar bills that sat on the dresser.

Delilah went into a nice, long, humiliating diatribe about how large Jeremy’s cock was, and how excited she got in the shower when she was able to hold it, feel it against her skin, and tease her pussy with it. Because, after all, she was rarely around such a big cock!

She emphasized this by reaching down and pulling Brad’s pink panties down a little, then poking his erect member with her fingernail. “Is it hard? Is that it?”

Jeremy was chuckling somewhere in the background, seemingly unaffected by the fact that the man who picked him up an hour earlier was kneeling with a dildo in his mouth wearing nothing but a woman’s set of pink lingerie as Delilah poked his penis with her fingernail and called him “tiny dick.”

Brad reminded himself that as a male hooker, Jeremy had surely seen worse. Somehow that did not make him feel less degraded and humiliated though, as Delilah turned around and addressed the gigolo, asking if he’d like his dick sucked or wanted to wait, asking if he wanted to piss on the sissy bitch in the bathtub because she looked good soaking in golden pee, or if he just wanted to fuck Delilah doggy style right there.

Jeremy appeared, hands on his hips, still in nothing but a towel. His hair was wet and disheveled, and the water droplets were dancing across his chest illuminated by the light in the room in a way that made him look like something out of a modeling photo session. Brad realized that the man’s features were, at worst, nearly perfection. His smile was subtle and handsome, he had perfect teeth, and his biceps were built and solid. Out from under the dim lights of the dark streets and now in perfect lighting, it was clear that Jeremy was a 10.

When Delilah reached up and pulled the towel down away from Jeremy’s hips, Brad realized his looks weren’t the only 10. The man’s cock had to be ten inches long, and thicker than even the monster dildo he’d been practicing on. His eyes fell on the large dick and he was entranced, intimidated, and incredibly humiliated.

Delilah slid her hand up and down the thick cock as she stared at it with admiration, cooing. “Isn’t that the most magnificent cock you have ever seen, Brad?”

He just swallowed, and managed to croak softly, meekly, “Yes…yes, Delilah.”

Jeremy chuckled, obviously not the least bit uncomfortable standing there naked. Then again, Brad reminded himself, if he had a body like that he wouldn’t be uncomfortable standing there naked either.

“Suck it,” Delilah ordered, and Brad’s train of thought was broken at once. The command, the tone of her voice, everything about her attitude snapped him into obedience like nothing else. In a flash, he had the man’s cock all the way in his mouth and was bobbing on it, choking on it, eyes shut tight and watering.

Brad focused on the pleased, content commentary Delilah was making, and tried to ignore the deep moans and feeling of the man’s hands on his head as he sucked the cock. Delilah asked Jeremy how long he could last, and he said “All night baby, all night.” Brad choked and kept sucking, his jaw already burning and aching, the drool already dripping off his chin. Precum filled his mouth a little at a time, mixed with his own spit, and he was nearly in a trance soon, listening to Delilah as she obviously pleasured herself.

Licking, tasting her own juices, playing with her pussy, locating her vibe, exploring her clit, playing with herself, touching and teasing her nipples, encouraging Jeremy, “Deeper, deeper, fuck his face, fuck his face hard! He’s a cunt, fuck his mouth harder!”

Brad’s head was spinning, his mouth stretched and sore, eyes shut tight. He felt like the center of the universe and kept reminding himself it was all for her, all for her, all for her pleasure, trying to forget that a man’s dick was in his mouth and it was throbbing, pulsing, and could explode at any time and fill him up with cum. Visions of cum dripping from his mouth, gagging him, choking him, or coating his face all haunted him for a moment but he kept sucking hard, listening to Delilah moan and coo in pleasure.

While his head was spinning, Brad was barely aware when Delilah pulled Jeremy off of him, away from his face, then flopped the hooker over onto the bed. Apparently, that was that. Brad just remained kneeling there in his pink lingerie, his lips throbbing, his panties tight and wet, as Delilah pounced on Jeremy and in one fluid motion crawled over him and reached into her bag for a condom.

The next thing Brad knew, the condom wrapper slapped him in the face and Delilah was giggling, and Jeremy walked over, his big cock glistening and bouncing right in his face.

“Put the condom on him,” Delilah ordered, now on her stomach on the bed, her chin in her hands, as if watching a little show. “Little bitch, put the condom on the real cock. Use your TEETH!”

Jeremy laughed and said something but stood there patiently as Brad fumbled with the condom wrapper and tried desperately to do as told, perhaps experiencing the largest dose of humiliation ever as he used his mouth to carefully place the condom on the large cock. The condom was too small.

After a few attempts, the humiliation overwhelmed him. Jeremy said, “Whose condoms are these! They are too small.”

Delilah laughed out loud and came over to investigate and responded, “Oh my God. These condoms are too big for Brad. That’s hysterical. Oh shit. Bitch you might have to go get some bigger condoms!”

Brad felt a sickness come over him, realizing he might be shopping late at night for condoms, and of course Delilah, in her current mood, now totally turned on, would surely make it a totally degrading experience.

“No I got some,” Jeremy said, turning and walking over to his pile of clothes. Of course, Brad realized, the man traveled with his own, large sized condoms. At least he was a safe hooker.

In a matter of moments he returned, but instead of taking the chance to slip the condom on himself, Jeremy shoved the wrapped in Brad’s mouth, obviously enjoying his humiliation just as much as Delilah was. Once again, he found himself fumbling with the condom, trying desperately to put it over the large, thick cock with his mouth.

“Go ahead and suck on it a little for good measure,” Delilah ordered, now watching as she played with her pussy, her hair also disheveled, her fine body glistening with perspiration and hot sex.

Soon the taste of latex filled Brad’s stretched mouth, and he gagged a couple of times as Jeremy pumped his hips harder, making sure the full length of the shaft entered the slave’s mouth.

“Suck his balls, whore,” Delilah ordered. She clearly was now in the mood for a show, before she was going to get fucked, and that could take all night, Brad knew. So he went ahead and obeyed, taking the large heavy balls into his mouth one at a time as the man groaned and panted, complimenting the slave on what a good cocksucker he was.

Time became a blur and he lost track of everything, so much so that he was nearly in a different state of mind completely when Delilah once again pulled the hooker off of him and brought him to the bed. She proceeded to first fuck him by straddling him on top, but when his cock proved to be too large, they switched to missionary and finally doggy style, then back to her on top.

Brad just remained on the floor obediently, watching, humiliated, as the man pleasured her with his large cock over and over again. If he was indeed gay, he was quite convincing, because his hands enjoyed every inch of her beautiful body and he moved perfectly against her small frame, holding her by the hips as he penetrated her again and again.

When he announced that he was about to cum, Delilah encouraged him to cum inside of her. Brad was relieved, for a moment, because he had worried she’d make him cum on Brad’s face, a little trick she loved. But the hooker did cum inside of her pussy, a place Brad had not been in months. He could only fondly reflect on the memory, before she confessed to him that sex was not enjoyable because she could not feel him inside of her due to his tiny size.

Giggling, spent, panting, Delilah rolled over on top of Jeremy, who was panting also, and slid the condom off his cock. A huge load of white cum filled the tip and the entire condom was slick and disgusting. Brad watched, mortified, as she carried it over to him. “Want to taste my pussy, Brad?”

How could he answer such a question? It was the ultimate trick question. The question was designed to be his undoing. But he could not lie to her. “Yes, Delilah, I want to taste your pussy.”

“Open wide,” she ordered, holding the condom with two fingers as if totally disgusted, looking at it with a wrinkled nose but a huge smile. “Open up and get a big taste!”

Brad shut his eyes tight and opened his mouth obediently. Soon his tongue was heavy and he felt a big, thick glob of latex, pussy and cum in his mouth.

“Chew it, suck it!” she ordered, holding his chin closed. Her hands were warm and smelled like pussy, like sex. He felt cum oozing into the corners of his mouth. The taste of pussy was there, but mostly, it was all mansex and sweat, and the thick, slick taste of a large load of cum that was not his own. He started to gag.

“If you spit it out or throw up you are drinking a pissload!” she threatened. “You know how much I would love to see it washed down with a load of piss from him.”

It took all of Brad’s resolve to not throw up or spit it out. He kept his eyes closed and focused on the taste of her pussy, however faint it was. She made him sit there for quite some time until he sucked and chewed the condom. Then she threatened to make him swallow it and had him about to do it before she laughed and told him to spit it into the trash.

Jeremy was up and back in the shower, and Brad was not even aware of hearing him get up or go there. The clock read 4:35am. His cock was aching in the tight pink panties and his knees were sore. Delilah was flitting around the room on cloud nine, listening to music, dancing naked, then admiring Jeremy as he toweled off in the bathroom doorway.

For the final humiliation, Delilah came over and ordered Brad to pay the hooker. She picked up the large stack of bills, Brad’s money, and shoved it into his hands. “Crawl over and pay the prostitute and thank him for letting you suck his dick and for fucking your girlfriend the way she deserves to be fucked – by a real man!”

Brad looked at the stack of bills. Hundreds, thousands of dollars. He crawled over to the hooker, who was standing there naked, his thick cock erect again already. Jeremy was smiling with his arms folded over his chest, amused.

Jeremy looked past the kneeling man and listened to his little speech, then nodded at Delilah, “I don’t have to leave just yet, you know. You want to go again? You want to party?”

Delilah walked over and Brad felt her hand behind his head, her fingers twirling in his hair. “That’s ok dear. I enjoyed it, but I need a little alone time with my whore now. Even tiny little dicks need attention now and then, after all.”

Jeremy chuckled and took the wad of money, stuffing it into his pocket. “Your call,” he smiled. “Thanks. See you around.”

With that, he started to collect his clothes, and Brad found himself feeling warm, content inside. Not because of the extreme humiliation that always cleansed him and made him feel so raw and alive, but because of the nurturing feeling of her fingers in his hair, and the contentment he felt as she sent the perfectly chiseled man with the huge cock away so she could spend time alone with her slave.

To reward him, maybe. Maybe she would let him cum, or let him taste her, but maybe not. Still, the moment she sent the third man away was always the time he felt whole again, realizing the bond they shared. After all, Jeremy was the one pushing the button on the elevator, and Brad was the one curled up at her feet.

© Akasha@akashaweb.com, used with her permission. For more of her Femdom erotic visit her site Akasha’s Web.

Originally posted 2009-03-05 09:13:36.

Submissive Boyfriend Spanked by Girlfriend

Vintage photograph of a Mistress Girlfriend giving her submissive boyfriend one of his daily doses of discipline through corporal punishment.

Submissive Boyfriend Spanked by Girlfriend

My Sissymaid Slave Husband – Part 1

Feminized Submissive Husband and Cruel Mistress Wife

Cruel Mistress Wife

Mistress Zara

I want to tell you about my new found freedom, I am a lady aged 49 and have been married to Brian for almost 10 years, I had a long time boyfriend who turn out to be unfaithful and a real jerk, I swore that the next man I found would be submissive and would honour me.

I meet Brian at a hotel in Spain while on holidays and we got talking, he confessed that he had not many ladies in his life, I could tell that he was very submissive and keep asking could he get me anything, I had him fetching me drinks and rub on sun cream every day, also I got him to take me out for meals and drinks. it turned out that he only live about 20 miles from me, the night before I returned home I had him come to my room and got him to kneel at my feet and kiss them, I ask if he was a real submissive and he said he was and that it would be his honour to please me. I had him lick my ass and fanny until I came.

I got his contact details and when we returned from holidays I keep making him do more things for me, I started make him wear girdles, bras and stocking all day every day under his clothes and when at home a maids dress, he really looks silly.

I had him come to my house to clean the and do my laundry three time each week and then I started to get him come every night after he finished his work, he never got to sleep with me I made him sleep on a mattress on the floor of a small box room and be on call at all times if I needed anything.

I would go out at weekends to clubs and some time get lucky and bring a man home, I would phone my slave and tell him to stay quite in his room and when my boyfriend had left, I would order him to lick me clean. After a few years like this I decided to married Brian or as I call him now Fanny only because of his wealth as he is not very good looking and is no good in the sex department, he has a little cock about 4 inches, but I told him that I would marry him if he became my full time servile slave, he agreed and we signed a contract that I would own everything and he would be my slave.

Just over a year ago I had a large offer for his business and as his father and mother had passed away and he was an only child and we had no children I decided to sell his business and his and my house and with careful investment I would live very well off, this meant that Fanny could become a full time housewife / slave !!!

As everything was now signed over to me, he is total dependant on me. I bought a house in the country about 50 miles away it is a large old Victorian house that had been modernised, it has 5 bedrooms with 4 rooms downstairs and all the floors are wooden with tiled bathrooms, I had one of the rooms downstairs converted into my private gym, it has a steam room, hot tub and running machine the whole house requires a lot of cleaning on hands and knees. The house is very private surrounded by trees and it has lots of land but also closed a village and a large town.

Fanny’s living quarters are of course in the basement, there are two rooms in the basement one is large room directly under my TV and relax room and also under my gym the other is a small room off the large room that would have been the coal store it had a opening from the outside where the coal was delivered but this was now fully closed up, the room has no windows and is only about 8 ft x 10ft, he has a small radiator, an old steel frame bed that we found in the attic and a old wooden commode that serves as a seat and his toilet, the toilet bucket can be lifted out to empty, he has to empty his toilet bucket down a manhole in the yard, he is not allowed to use any of the toilets or bathrooms. He keeps himself clean by bringing down buckets of water from the laundry room and has to wash himself this way. I insist on this to ensure that he fully understands that he is a servant and he must live his life like a servant /slave. I have a call system one part he wears round his balls and the other I have hand held so when I require him I press the button and he gets a shock, these are used for dog training and I found this on the interned in USA, they are not allowed to be used in the UK.

I keep this on a ring attached to my mobile phone.

He is on call day or night, and to keep him on his toes, if I happen to wake in the middle of the night I press the button a few times and he will come running, I allow him maximum of five minutes to be at my side, I sometimes in the night make him attend me as a toilet, this I know he get a thrill from me pissing in his mouth.

The rule is for every minute he is late over five minutes he gets ten lashes. If I am felling wicked I will sometime go to my bedroom and lock the door while he hard at work then I press the button and because he is unable to get in through the locked door and keep him waiting for maybe five more minutes before I open the door, this means I have the right to give him 50 lashed because he was not by my side, after I whip him I feel so horny I make him lick me until I come and come, even I have left his ass and back in lumps and marks he is still grovelling at my feet and thanking me.

His clothing and food are provided by me and he does the shopping for food and supplies, I have a special credit card that he is co signer and he buys all my food, drink etc and I check the receipt to make sure he has not added anything for himself and each Sunday I give him £14 cash and he must use this to buy himself food and hygiene supplies for the week, my food bill is around £150 each week as I like the best. I know only £2per day is not a lot for him but he knows in the supermarkets he can buy the food that is just going out of date or I have instructed him to ask for any out of date food and tell them it is for his dog !!! he buys the supermarkets own brands also he gets to eat my leftovers. We he is cooking for me he must also cook his meals at the same time but on different pans, he has one old pot to cook his food in and I make him boil his meat food together with any vegetables so everything looks and tastes the same then he in a large dog bowl, he serves me and waits till I have finished and have dismissed him to clean up and that I require nothing more before he eats, so all the time he is eating cold soggy tasteless food.

He has a small van to travel around in and again he charges the fuel to the special credit card, so that I can keep a check. I have a new Range Rover Sport that he must keep clean at all times, just for fun I tell him as a treat I order him to lick the leather seat I sit on, I think he really love doing this.

I insist that he wears a girdle and bra or a all in one girdle with open bottom with suspenders and stockings day and night and outside he wears a one pieces overall the type you see factory workers ware it is blue.

In the house he wares a maids uniform not the French Maid type but a standard hotel type made from hard wearing materials. His shoes are plain ladies black flat for outdoor work and he also has a pair of wellingtons for wet work, his indoor footwear is black patented with a 2’’ heel


His wardrobe consist of 5 girdles with suspenders, 5 long line bras, 3 all in one corseletts, 6 pairs of stockings I bought these all on eBay in the used vintage clothing section the same with the shoes they to are all second hand, I am luck because he has only 6 ½ size ( small foot small cock ) his panties are my old one that I have finished with but there is still a lot of wear in them yet he over 20 pairs of these and I have got him a PVC maids uniform it is full length Victorian style made in China, you send them the measurements and they are made to order it was only £130 it is designed to be very uncomfortable to wear and use, the link : http://stores.ebay.co.uk/julias-laedchen I have him wear this on special occasions like when I have a boyfriend over and he serves us dinner etc, and at Christmas time.

Originally posted 2010-07-01 13:07:31.