A Submissive Man Opens His Heart and Earns an Orgasm
Mistress Victoria received the announcement of the upcoming meeting of “Female Dommes and their Subs”, and she told me, we were going. And, she said, the key topic would be: subs talking about how they are embarrassed by their Dommes, and perhaps I should prepare something beforehand.
So I did.
The day arrived, and we went. Getting out of the car, she said, “Oh, did I mention, before we enter the meeting room, you’ll have to strip down to nothing but your shoes and the device on your cock?”
“No, Ma’am, you had not mentioned it as yet, and so noted.”
We went in, and on down to the basement, where we were signed in, and I stripped, and put my clothes in an offered bag, and we went in, and sat down.
Shortly after the scheduled start time, a Mistress Olga went to the podium and said, “Welcome, all ye Dommes and subs. Often we use this time of get-togethers for chatting and mixing, but this evening, we want to start, at least, with subs coming up here and telling us their experiences with being embarrassed and humiliated by their Dommes. So, who wants to start?’
Mistress Victoria held up her hand, and said, “He does.”
“Come on up,” said M. Olga.
I got up and walked to the podium while M. Olga sat down.
“Hi, my name is Shilo, and it is my honor and privilege to be owned by Mistress Victoria. The topic is embarrassment and humiliation. This is interesting to me, because, well, I’m sure many folks think of these things in a bad light, something they don’t like, something to be avoided. But for me, frankly, it is a turn-on. Yes, I can and do feel shame, the kind that brings a flush to the face, yet I find it arousing, and I don’t avoid it, when avoidance is possible.
“So, I believe Mistress has figured out that there’s nothing she can do, in private, to humiliate me. I have gone months, locked and denied. I have gone weeks at a time, butt plugged. I’m not allowed clothing inside the house. She often unlocks me, long enough to pull my scrotum behind me, and lock it in a humbler, to have me spend the day doing housework. She’s had me spend nights standing upright, legs spread, and ankles locked, arms straight out and locked, cock and balls locked in a frontal humbler. She’s had me standing upright, unlocked, arms stretching straight up and tied, legs spread, while she teased my cock endlessly, and once I started begging for release, she smeared Icyhot on my cock and balls, and on a plug that she inserted in my ass. Yet, none of this, or anything else, shamed or humiliated me. I accept this without question, as it is my duty in serving her pleasure.
“As I said, that’s in private. In public, she has certainly tried other things. Is standing here naked in front of you embarrassing to me? No. At home, when guests come over, I’m allowed to start with some clothing, usually minimal, and invariably I am naked before they leave. She’s allowed guests to give me a prostate exam with their fingers. On more than one occasion, I’ve gone over the laps of three different women for spankings. One time, visiting a mixed couple, she asked the other man if he ever had a blowjob from a man, and when he said no, she immediately offered my services. After I had his cum in my mouth, and he leaned back, catching his breath, she told him, “If you feel up to it later, I’ll let you find out what it’s like to put your cock in another man’s ass.” And, well, he DID feel like it, so not much later, I was naked, on the ground, face down, ass up, and taking his cock in my ass. He wore a rubber, so I did not get to feel his cum inside me, though. But, I was NOT embarrassed, I was simply doing what I was told to do. We’ve been at large mixed parties, and at some point, she’d take her pocket paddle out of her purse, and say, loudly, “Let’s go,” and lead me to some semi-private hallway. Others would come and watch if they wanted to, or were curious. In the hallway, I had to pull up my skirt, and bend over, hands to ankles, while she applied a rapid, hard dose of the paddle to my cheeks. Once she was satisfied, I was allowed to stand up, and we returned to the main party. There were usually amused looks on the faces of the onlookers, does not bother me.
At dinner parties we’ve been to, there’s always been some point at which she would say, “Okay, that’s enough, come along…” and I’d see her get out her pocket paddle, and announce, “Anybody that wants to see a man strip naked and get his bare bottom blistered, follow me.” And we’d go into some other room or bedroom, and she’d sit down, and I had to strip, and go over her lap, for a long application of her paddle to my buttocks. Some might ask, does this make you cry? And I’ll tell them, no. It takes much more than this to make me cry, which I will get to. Anyway, after this, she has me stand up, hands on head, and stay there, my red bottom in full view of anybody wanting to look, while she goes back to the party for a while, eventually returning to tell me I can dress, and come back in. Again, there are often amused looks on the faces of the other folks there, but since my eyes are usually downcast, looking at the floor, I don’t notice. And, I’m not embarrassed. I am just serving, doing as I am told. In spite of living so close to the beach, neither one of us are beach-goers, really. Until M. Victoria discovered Nude Beach Day. You may be aware of the privately-owned public beach area up in the cove. It’s gated, blocked, and basically is rented out for events. Twice a year, that we’ve noticed, they open it for nude beach days, although they ask that you are dressed before going through the gate. So, on days that we go, just before we leave the house, I bend over, for, any number of strokes from a hickory cane. I think, the last time was fifteen strokes. At any rate, experience has shown, it’s one of the very best implements to leave visible marks on my bottom. Then we’d drive to the beach, make our way in, find a spot on the beach, and strip naked, and my general order was to remain standing, or we’d go walking, hand in hand, with my caged cock on display in front, and cane stripes visible on my bottom in back. This has certainly drawn amused looks from other people there, but I don’t find it embarrassing, I’m just doing what I must, to serve.
“What I think I’m saying is that, I so enjoy the emotions attached to what others might consider shame, embarrassment, humiliation, that I just don’t … think these situations are.
“Or, I could say, ‘Yes, it was humiliating, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.’
“So, perhaps, wait, am I monopolizing? Talking too much?”
“No, no,” said M. Olga, “You’re doing fine, keep going until you’re done.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. So… perhaps I could shift the topic to, hmm, things Mistress does, that, I sort of secretly wish She wouldn’t. I won’t be giving her any new ideas. Anything I’m about to say, she is well aware of. So…
“Twice a year, she unlocks me for a 72 hour period. During this time, I am expressly forbidden to touch my cock. We use this period for me to go in for a full body wax. Once, I requested hand shackles, to prevent my hands from going to my cock, and I was denied, and given a Proper Punishment for asking. More on Proper Punishments, later. She always has me in her sight during this period. It involves extended periods of teasing, edging, and denying me. When I’m servicing her orally, it’s in such a position that I can’t rub my cock on the mattress or somesuch at the same time. And she’ll have me on top of her, on knees and elbows, while she rubs my cock against her pussy… then for the briefest of time, maybe five seconds, slide my cock inside her, and hold it still, then have me take it out… then we’ll lay together, my front to her back, and she’ll tell me to not even think about rubbing my cock against her. This period is horrible for me, as I get constant erections, and she looks at them and smiles. As the hours wind down on the 72 hour period, I am begging, or crying, “Please, Ma’am, let me cum or lock me up.” which is the result she wants, but she doesn’t want me to just make it up, she wants for it to really come from within me. It is such a challenging period to get through, and when it’s over, I am so relieved. She lets me know, a month or so in advance, when the next time will be, and I spend that month or so, just dreading it.
“Then there’s Wash Day. I’ve been getting these, about every three months. I am restrained over a bench, and given a two-quart enema and I hold it in, with the aid of a plug, for an hour. I have ten minutes to relieve myself, then I’m restrained, given another two quarts, and I hold it for 90 minutes. Ten minutes of relief, then another two quarts for two hours. And so the time builds up to 3.5 hours… then the last one, I hold overnight for 8 hours. This is painful beyond description. I can truly say, if she did not mention this to me, I would not be reminding her of it.
“Then there are Proper Punishments, as we, or she, calls them. I’m sure, for many of you subs, punishment via spanking in some form is part of your dynamic, however it is delivered. For me: I get spanked OTK, with hairbrush, paddle, whatever instrument works for her in that position, I get spanked upright and bent over, with paddle, strap, and cane… I get spanked, while stretched out prone on the bed, I get spanked, standing upright, hands tied high above me. I relish the minutes leading up to a spanking, knowing what’s going to happen, how it will feel. My body does not like the actual spanking, as pain is just pain, and it hurts. My body or brain is yelling, ‘Please stop,’ but my mind is also saying, ‘Don’t stop, please don’t stop…’ Afterwards, the heat, the throbbing in my buttocks, looking in the mirror at the color and marks on my bottom, it’s all just so delicious. From the beginning of this marvelous journey we’ve had, M. Victoria wondered why I wouldn’t cry during a spanking. Part of that is, I simply have a high pain threshold. Another part is, crying, for me, is a final release of emotion, not totally unlike an orgasm. It just takes a lot of punishment to get me to cry. Besides the day-to-day spankings… and I should say, multiple-daily spankings, we, or rather, she, has a procedure called a Proper Punishment. The daily spankings are somewhat erotic, in the sense that they arouse her, and to some extent, me also. But the Proper Punishment is used when actual punishment is required, either for my disobedience or my negligence or her dissatisfaction with something or anything I’ve done, or me making a request for something that I know I should not be requesting, or if some time has gone by without one, simply for Maintenance. These usually aren’t spontaneneous, spur of the moment. She lets me know beforehand, typically a couple of days, in some manner, such as “At 8 pm, on Friday, get ready for a Proper Punishment.” It gives me time to dread it. So, at the appointed time, I go, naked, to the bench, and restrain my own ankles to the legs of the bench, attach cuffs to my wrists, and bend over the length of the bench, a cushion under my belly so my bottom is well propped up. I stretch out, and wait. She comes in, and continues the restraint on my wrists til I’m held down tightly. Then she may walk away, giving me more time to think about it. When she’s ready, she lathers baby oil on my buttocks. Then she takes up a wooden spencer-type paddle, and begins smacking my buttocks, hard, very hard. Twenty-five smacks seems typical, but not a standard. It’s up to her, I’m not even sure if she counts. Then she puts on a strap-on, and gives my butt a deep and thorough fucking. Then she takes up a leather two-tailed tawse, and smacks my bottom hard and fast, and I’m in tears, real tears, just begging, ‘Please, Ma’am, please, no more…’ When she’s satisfied, she walks away, and leaves me there. I can’t move, I can’t rub it. I can only sob. When she does let me up, she cuffs my hands in front of me, so I can’t rub at all, and brings me to the living room, where she’ll watch t.v. or read, while I have to stand, in view so that she can see my bottom at all times. The first time I received this, it was… horrible, but I got through it, and after …some hours, even thought, “Well, that’s wasn’t so bad…” The second time, I remember my bottom hurting for, oh, 48 hours afterwards, and thinking, “Gosh, that hurt.” After the third time, I remember thinking, “I hope this doesn’t happen again soon.” At some point, during this progression, I broke, by the fifth or sixth time, I think. At the appointed time, I remember being in slow motion, really slow motion, as I buckled on the ankle cuffs, and tied them to the bench, and buckling on the wrist cuffs, and taking long deep breaths before I bent over, and stretched out my arms. She tied down my wrists, and I could feel … distress, panic, welling up within me. Then she walked away, and the feeling got worse, so much worse, I was whispering, murmurring, ‘No, please, no.’ She came back in, and asked, “What’s that, now?’ and I said in a cracked voice, ‘Nothing, Ma’am, sorry…’
Then she rubbed baby lotion into my buttocks, and I knew she was picking up the paddle, and I just started crying… and pleading, ‘Please, Ma’am, no, please, Ma’am.’ I think I can say, she’s never heard something like that from me before, and she stopped. “Are you saying you don’t want me to paddle you?’ ‘I’m sorry, Ma’am, it just hurts so much….please, Ma’am…’ ‘You know you deserve it, don’t you?’ ‘Yes, Ma’am, I do…’ ‘And you know you need it, to behave properly, don’t you?’ ‘Yes, Ma’am, I really do.’ ‘Then what’s all the fuss?’ ‘It just hurts so much, Ma’am.’ ‘It’s supposed to, isn’t it?’ ‘Yes, Ma’am, it is.’ ‘Well, then…’ she said. ‘I’m going to walk away for a few minutes, and let you think about it. When I return, you tell me. If you don’t think you deserve this, I’ll untie you, and let you up. If you agree that you do deserve it, then I shall continue.’ ‘Y..yes, Ma’am.’ And she walked away. So, I knew it was gonna hurt like hell. And I knew, if she thought I deserved it, then I deserve it. I had my little cry, and I was ready. She came back in, and said, ‘So…’ ‘Please continue, Ma’am. I apologize for being a bother. I do deserve this.’ ‘Very well.’ And, she laid on a forty smack paddling, followed by a long, hard, deep fucking, followed by forty of the tawse, and I cried most of the way through it. I could not sit without a pillow for three days, my bottom was marked for 4 and a half days. This episode did not seem to change the frequency of the Proper Punishments. They occur when they need to occur. The episode after the one I just detailed was much the same, and she seemed annoyed by my begging for her not to, although I did ask her to continue before she left the room. After that, we had a chat, so to speak, and agreed that, once I’ve restrained myself, then no matter how much I beg or whine, she should ignore me, and just continue. If I am going to simply refuse the punishment, which I have not done yet, nor do I ever expect to, then I have time to do it before I restrain myself. But once I’ve restrained myself, then I’m committed, and she should ignore anything I say to the contrary. But, for every Proper Punishment I’ve had since then, I have started to cry, and beg, before she starts. And I’ve cried plenty, during.
So, if I don’t get another one of these for a long, long time, I would …be content… but that’s really a pipe dream on my part, I expect I’ll be getting plenty.
“So, as I said, those are things that … I could do without, but I acknowledge that life is full of experiences that one might rather not go through, yet one might say, they build character. So I accept them when they occur. Um… I… think I’m done. Should I … open the floor to questions, or shut up and sit down?”
M. Olga said, “Sure, open the floor. Excellent talk, by the way. Any questions?”
M. Victoria held up her hand.
M. Olga chuckled. “Yes, Vicky.”
“So…” M Victoria began. “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that your Mistress had no idea how you felt about these sessions. Maybe that’s because you never expressed yourself, or maybe because, she simply never asked. Let’s also say, for the sake of argument, that she really loves you, as much as you evidently love her, and she would not require you to do ANYTHNG that she did not sincerely believe you wanted to do, if not so much openly, then on some level. With that in mind, are any or all of these things, things that you want to tell her, ‘Please, let’s not do that again?’
I stood silent for a moment, staring at the podium.
Then I said, “No, Ma’am. I know my Mistress loves me, as I love her, and she would not require of me anything that I can not tolerate, and I can tolerate anything that she requires of me. Thank you for asking, Ma’am.”
“Well, then, one more question: when was your last REAL orgasm?”
“My wedding night, with Mistress, Ma’am.”
“You may have earned another one, very soon.’
“Th..thank you, Ma’am.”
No one else had questions, and I returned to my chair next to M. Victoria, but rather than sitting, I knelt down in front of her, my head to the ground.
“Oh, get up off the cold floor, and sit here next to me.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” I said, getting up, to sit next to her.