Archive for the ‘Dominatrix’ Category

She has mentioned a few things that she’s always wanted to do but hadn’t yet.

I told her I would do them (of course) and one in particular made me wince but at the same time eager to do it. Eager to be the first, eager to give her something nobody else had. I find myself desperate to make her fantasies come true. Even something that scares me.

Maybe a little bit of it is to prove my adoration, but most of it is to please her, to give her something she hasn’t had yet, to know that she can use me for whatever she wants.

Tonight, one of those things happened.

I was…ok bear with me because this sounds like something out of a porno but then again, so much of what she and I have done sounds like it comes out of a porno. A very high budget, well written porno.

I was in her kitchen, naked, doing the dishes and wearing a collar and a brand new ball-stretcher (2.5 inches). After I finished I asked if I could eat and she offered me some leftovers she had delivered.

“Oh, wait”, she said with a wicked smile, “give me your cock-head”.

I knew what was coming, it was one of those things I had winced about. One of those things she had always wanted to do and now she was going to do it.

She reached among the leftover burger and fries and grabbed a jalapeno pepper, tore out a small chunk of it and slowly slid it inside my urethra so just a small piece was visible.

What happened next was a blur. A very painful blur.

At first I was hard, hard because it felt a little warm but mostly hard because I could see how much it turned her on.

It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch and she had a very big smile on her face.

“Do you want it out?”

“Yes!” I stammered

“Then you’ll have to cum it out”.

I had serious doubts if I would be able to or not but the next thing I knew, I was on my knees, jerking this burning piece of flesh between my legs

I was close, I could have came right then but at that moment her best friend came out of the bathroom, she had been dying her hair and came out to see what all the commotion was about.

“God I love coming over to your house!” she exclaimed as she saw me kneeling and jerking off in front of her smiling friend.

“Should I let him come?” my owner asked her best friend

“No”

“Fuck”, I thought. I was so close, I wanted so badly to come, more from the desire to expel that evil evil pepper, than to experience an orgasm.

I stopped and the pain began to increase even more. The burning became unbearable and I started to shake and whimper.

“My poor baby, do you want me to make it stop?” she asked.

“Yes…” deep breath, wince, whimper “please” and she ran off to grab some yogurt from the kitchen, I think she asked me where it was in the fridge but I was in no condition to answer.

Moments later she was rubbing yogurt into my urethra and I could feel it starting to cool but not enough. Her best friend returned with a bowl of milk and I was told to “dip your dick in the milk”.

I did.

I felt like Yosemite Sam dropping his ass into a barrel of water after Bugs had just lit him on fire.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

It wasn’t over though.

She made me hold that position for ten minutes. My muscles aching as though I was in some convoluted yoga position. As I breathed heavily and moaned, she would kiss me and stroke my hair.

Oh and she took photos.

That was about an hour ago. She asked me to write about it and so here I am, naked, still a bit numb, laying on the floor next to her couch as she pets my back and occasionally steps on my balls and smiles at me.

Sometimes, when you get what you wish for, it’s better than you imagined.

Mistress answered the front door of Her north Dallas home with a twinkle in Her beautiful eyes. She smiled sweetly as we met — I was wearing a polo shirt and jeans, while She was sheathed in a form-fitting pair of faded jeans and a small camouflage cutoff shirt that showed off more than it concealed. My mind struggled to wrap itself around Her beauty. She was stunning.

All the usual clichés flew through my mind — beautiful, wonderful, heavenly, etc. Hers is a dangerous beauty, I realized, one that lures quickly and captures easily. It doesn’t sneak up on you; it hits you right between the eyes. She knows this, of course. She calls Herself “Goddess”, and She wears the term as well as Her jeans.

She led me upstairs to a bedroom/play room, tastefully decorated and quite comfortable. I am a 30-year-old man with a Big Ten college education, but I could only dumbly gape and nod at Her.

She said I had permission to speak freely, and we went over some common-sense rules, guidelines and then on to my likes and dislikes. My likes include CBT (clothespins, wax, whipping, etc.), teasing and denial, bondage (especially handcuffs and legcuffs), corporal punishment, leash-and-collar games and gags. Those certain feelings of anguish, humiliation and helplessness are what I am usually after. I have never understood it in myself, but I’ve learned to accept it and embrace it.

Under questioning, I told Mistress that I have an open mind to other activities such as feminization, which I have never tried. She nodded approvingly at each of my statements, but Her eyes especially seemed to twinkle when discussing teasing and denial. She promised to make me suffer, and I began to be afraid it was a promise She would keep.

I did not have long to wait. While She left the room to change, I was ordered to strip and find her picture in a DDI magazine on a sofa table in front of me. I was also told to make sure I was standing at attention (and I don’t mean on my feet) BUT NOT A DROP was allowed to be released. I did all of this.

When She returned, She was still wearing the cutoff shirt that flaunted Her belly, and my heart leapt. There is just something about a woman’s navel that I have always found thrilling. I read an article once about it, and some sex expert suggested that the female belly button was so erotic because it’s right between the good stuff. Sounds about right to me.

I was quickly ordered to the floor, on my hands and knees. A chain was slipped around my neck, and a full-head gag was fitted snugly to my head. She strode into the hallway and led me along. I remember making an extra effort to follow quickly and make sure there was plenty of slack on the leash. I have always thought that when a leash is taut, that indicates resistance or slowness, but a leash with slack is a small but nice little touch that shows extra-special servitude.

I was led into the bathroom and ordered to sit on the closed toilet seat, and my hands were chained behind me. There was enough slack for me to touch myself, however, so I ducked my hands tightly behind my back and hoped She would approve of this. Mistress explained that She had a small cold, and needed to take a bath. My heart fluttered again… and then plummeted when She showed off the blindfold I would be wearing. She relished this moment, and the first of many bolts of pain coursed through me.

The blindfold was slipped on, and She slipped into the bathtub. She described Her bath, flicking water at me and drinking in my moans and soft struggles. My suffering was starting to kick in, and She knew it. “And we’re just starting”, She reminded me.

Without thinking, I tried to peer underneath the blindfold. “Ah-ah,” She cooed. “If you’re not good, you won’t get the surprise I have for you.” I did not know whether to dread this or yearn for it. I found out soon enough, when She lifted the blindfold to let me watch Her towel off. Suddenly, I was being allowed to look at a goddess — but that was all I could do, since my hands were wearing chains. I whimpered. She purred. “This must be terrible for you,” She said, and I offered a moan in reply.

It got worse — She modeled Her Victoria’s Secret bras in front of me, reveling in my helplessness and asking rhetorical questions She knew I could not answer. She eventually chose a gold bra and panties. My eyes must have showed a blend of intense longing and deep, aching pain, Her eyes simply showed joy. Then it was back to the bedroom, where I got a quick but passionate spanking over Her knee for trying to sneak around the blindfold. I was bent over a horse next, and got several cuts with a whip to reinforce the same lesson.

Dazed, reeling, still at full attention and still aching, I was then herded into a corner, where Mistress ordered me to take myself to the brink of orgasm three times — with no release — while she left the room briefly. Before leaving, She explained that She wanted me to understand “the two P’s” – Privilege, and Punishment. I would be experiencing both, She told me.

I don’t know how, but I followed Her no-orgasm orders. When She returned, She was feeling festive and this meant it was time for me to dangle. She hoisted my arms over my head and fixed my wrists to a chain. By itself, this wasn’t so bad. But then came the clothespins — several of them, all over, and then She reclined on the bed to watch me struggle and ache.

It was exquisite. My helplessness was complete. My pain was real. My frustration was overwhelming. And before me, a goddess was relaxing and radiant. She invited me to come over and feel Her. I tried but found the restraints were quite secure. She teased me. “What’s the matter, why aren’t you coming?” She asked sweetly. But I could not. I could only suffer in front of Her.

After She mercifully decided I had had enough, she yanked the clothespins off rapidly, sending even more pain shooting through me. She released me and re-invited me to approach Her on the bed. This time I scrambled over as fast as I could.

She produced a bottle of lotion and spread a few drops on Her creamy leg. It was my duty to rub it in, and I did so while scarcely believing the privilege I was being granted. There are simply no words to describe Her skin. The best lines penned by Shakespeare cannot hold a candle to the feeling.
The privilege was increased as I was allowed to go further up Her leg, and accompany my massages with kisses. This I did eagerly, passionately — but slowly. I was determined not to be one of those simple-minded and single-minded men who do not pay proper attention to their lady. If I was going to be given the chance to kiss a goddess, I was not going to do it carnally, but sensually, with proper reverence and attention paid to Her.

This passed all too soon. I was ordered to lie on the bed, and Mistress secured my wrists to the bedframe and fixed my ankles with a spreader. I had never worn a spreader before, and the feeling was delightful. She slipped a blindfold on me and left the room again, leaving me to wallow in the recipe of anguish and denial She had brewed.

She came back in a white bra and panties, which were both lit up by the room’s backlighting. She produced a new toy, a vibrating teaser that She danced over my body. It flickered and flew, dived and swooped, and with it came a new definition of suffering I never knew before. I writhed, heaved and gasped. I stammered how much I hoped my suffering was amusing Her.

She snapped off the vibrating device and left me at the edge. As She was releasing my hands, I could not help but stare at Her panties, and She softly chided me for this. But even more agonizing was the tantalizing moment when She stretched across me to reach my other hand. I couldn’t help gazing at Her bra, and I couldn’t help the kiss that escaped my lips and caressed Her breast. I had to. I did not know when, or if, I would ever be this close to a goddess again.

“Behave yourself”, She chided again, and followed up her statement with a whack from a whip by the bed. That sent me scurrying into the shower, where I was ordered to submit to three minutes of freezing water before getting dressed. The blast of water was so cold it took the air out of me, but just as I reached for the faucet I heard Her say that I wasn’t allowed to turn off the water until She said so. The three minutes soon passed, but my erection did not.

When I was cleaned and dressed, I cleaned the gag in the bathroom. When Mistress returned, I was given permission to speak freely and I thanked Her profusely. We chatted for a while, and as we did so, the pain within me slowly leveled to a dull ache.

But it didn’t go away, and even as I write this three days later, I can still feel it. I am captured more tightly than by any chain or rope. The bonds aren’t visible, but they are real. They are there.

Mistress taught me “the two P’s” that day, but I also learned much more. I learned a new world of pain and slavery. I learned what a goddess looks and feels like. But more than anything, I learned the meaning behind that old ancient curse… “A beautiful woman is the Paradise of the eyes, the Purgatory of the purse… and the Hell of the soul.”

I’m a fairly ordinary guy, but after two weeks of dating Triffy, things just didn’t seem very ordinary anymore. I had taken a girl named Barbra to a drive in movie. Not sure if they still have drive in movies anymore today, but back in the 70′s they still had a few drive in movies left in California along with the left over chariots.

Barbra asked.  Would you get me some butter pop corn and a coke?

With a smile, I said, sure.

I headed over to the pop corn stand and it was lust at first site. It seemed as if her eyes were sparkling. Her blouse and skirt were skin tight. As she leaned over the counter I couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful breasts that were poking out of her hot pink blouse.

She asked.”Are you from around here?” I’ve never noticed you before.”

I laughed and said. “I’m from a far away planet they call New York.”

She smiled radiantly and said. “I’m from a far away planet to, but I got stuck here for a while.”

“Missed the ride back on the mother ship.” I joked.

“Something like that.” She said smiling.

“I’m supposed to be in Europe, but the Navy stuck me out here on the left coast. They just don’t know how to read a dream sheet.” I smiled.

“What do you do with the Navy she asked.”

“Im a communications specialist.” I replied.

She smiled glowingly and said. “I’m into communications to.”

I laughed and said. “That’s what you do on your planet when you’re not selling pop corn.”

She smiled and said. “Something like that”.

“Oh, could I have a butter pop corn and a coke.  I asked.

Wouldn’t you rather have something else?  She whispered seductively.

Yes, I would, but this is for Barbra, the girl that’s waiting for me to bring this back to the car.

Would Barbra miss you if you didn’t come back?  She whispered as she liked her very sensous lips.

I answered.  I don’t know, but I think she would wonder about what happened to the pop corn and coke.

Okay.   She said, reluctantly handing me the pop corn and coke.

Maybe another time. I said.

I’d like that. My name is Triffy. Here’s my number. Call me when you’re finished getting pop corn for Barbra.  She said.

My name is Tim, maybe another time Triffy, I said.

I brought the pop corn and coke back to Barbra. She snuggled up with me and asked.  Didn’t you want anything?

Want anything what?  I asked.

Didn’t you want a snack? She said, seeming puzzled.

Oh, I just didn’t think of it.  I replied.

Smiling seductively, she said.  I’m willing to share.

She then gazed into my eyes and started to kiss me, but I couldn’t get Triffy out of my mind. It were as if she had cast a spell on me. Barbra was very pretty, and I really did like her, but I felt as if I were now wearing the wrong size shoe. I needed size Triffy, but I tried hard to fit into size Barbra.

After the movie I drove Barbra home. She asked me in, but I told her I had some work to do that just couldn’t wait. I drove down Pacific Coast Highway and parked by one of the massive cliffs to think and reflect. The height of the cliffs, the wonderful splashing sound of the water always seemed to invigorate my thought process.

I debated with myself if I should call Triffy or not. I knew nothing about her except that she was very beautiful. She just wasn’t the kind of girl you would expect to be selling pop corn. At least not with those looks. She intrigued me. At last, I decided to call her just out of curiousity.

I just had to know where she came from, what she was into and what the heck was she doing selling pop corn. But, I was really fooling myself. Deep down, I was really attracted to her. I didn’t even want to admit to myself that I could be such a cad. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted her anyway.

So, I called. She told me a few things about herself and we made a date to go to the beach the next day. After seeing her in a bikini on the beach the next day my mind just went blank. I didn’t have any more questions to ask her. I was totaly under her spell. Barbra was just now a distant memory.

After the beach we went back to her place and she seemed to have candles everywhere. They seemed to have a nice smelling scent, but they were like no other candles I had sniffed before. I was going to ask her what all the candles were about, but when she changed into a very sexy nighty, I lost my train of thought as I watched her lite the candles. She lit the last one, put her arms around me and then I melted with the candles.

“Can I tie you up?,” she whisperd in my ear as she unbuckled my pants belt.

“You can do anything you want to me,” I said while undressing her.

After she undressed me, she took my hand and let me to her bed and tied my arms and legs to her bed posts. Then she climbed on top of me and rode me for all I had to give while hitting mu thighs with a small whip.

I was turned on like I was never turned on before. Just when I thought okay that’s enough of this now, she seemed to turn on my second and third gear. It were as if she were re-generating my battery. Just when I thought my energiser bunny was finished, she turned on my fourth and fifth gear. I didn’t know what was happening. I asked myself why.But I couldn’t find an answer.

But I suppose all good things must come to an end. After two weeks with her, I got orders to go to the south Land. I had never before been in the south and it was a long flight from California. So, when I first got off the plane, I thought I might be experiencing some jet lag. Or maybe two weeks with her just plum wore me out.

I didn’t know what it was, but I was feeling very dizzy. I wasn’t accustomed to the swampy type air of the south Land, so I thought, maybe I just need a day or two to adjust to the different climate. But I continued to get dizzy. At last, I went to sick bay and told everyone there that I keep getting dizzy. They couldn’t find anything wrong with me from routines tests, so they said they had to make sure I wasn’t crazy.

Being confident that I was totaly sane I told them to give me any test they wanted. So, they put some strange wires on my head and kept saying that’s amazing.

Whats so amazing?  I asked my very big busted Nurse.

Smiling seductively, she said. Your brain scan. It keeps showing that you’re having a sexual thought every forty seconds.

Only every forty seconds, I laughed starring at her endowed breasts with surprise.

Smiling ever more seduvtively she said.  You’re a sex machine.  The average male only has a sexual thought every four minutes.

So, I’m over sexed and now I’ve lost my mind?.  I asked

She answered.  No, just the opposite. If you were only having a sexual thought every five minutes you would be losing your mind. So having a sexual thought every forty seconds makes you super sane. The best reading we ever got from anyone was every three minutes. Your every forty seconds is out of this world.

Out of this world. That’s what I was afraid of. So how do I turn myself off? I asked.

What turned you on like this? That’s what I’d like to know so I could bottle it.  She said.

Laughing now, I said. Sorry, but I don’t kiss and tell.

Of course I could have come clean and told her that I kind of suspect that I recently spent two fun filled weeks with a dynamite woman that was most likely a space alien. But I was getting bored with all the tests. And anyway, she was quite a looker. And I had a feeling she wanted to take me for a test run to check out that every forty second quirk.

So, what is wrong with me then. I asked.

She took my hand and said. We’ve got to get you away from this swamp air. Come home with me. I have air condtioning. Doctors orders.

Well, if you put it like that. I mean Doctors orders. I guess I just can’t say no.  I said with a smile.

What does Financial Domination mean to you? Is it the rush of a blackmail fetish that makes you tremble, or the opportunity to voluntary offer yourself and become one of  My money slaves, a walking-talking human ATM machine, a pay piggy with a wallet wide open.. or maybe you are not able to resist the money slavery, not able to say “no to your Mistress, not able to fight the weakness and are willing to give away the control of the most precious, the most essential part of your life – your money. Once you are in financial slavery to the Mistress, your life changes, slowly, but surely. It may get uncomfortable at first, even a bit painful, maybe even very painful, but it feels too good to stop. On the contrary, you ask for more, you want to give more. You are My experiment, just to see how far in money slavery you will go to please Me, how much you are willing to give. There is absolutely nothing extraordinary for Me in having your wallet, your life at My disposal. It is only natural. You give, I take. It is just the means, not the end. It is the means for Me to control you, to deprave you, to drain you, to sedate your lifestyle to the stage that I set, to complicate your life, to manipulate it. Now, I suggest you close your eyes, imagine what it would be like to become something with a purpose, to find your place as My money slave, open your eyes, take a deep breath, relax, and send Me a letter, a tribute and the journey will begin.

Reprinted with author’s permission.

————-

I woke up aroused.

This was not the male syndrome commonly known as “morning wood”. This was an erection with a purpose.

Today was to be my first full day under Her control. After riding my face to several orgasms last night, She left me, aroused, with the understanding (but far from promise) that if I followed Her instructions to the letter all day I might finally be allowed the release I craved. But even if that was not to be, I desired to please Her more than my body screamed for sexual climax.

I was to feel Her control strongly all day. In the morning I carefully encircled my engorged penis with the collar I had been instructed to wear. After buckling it in place, I slipped my wrist through the leather loop at the end of the steel chain that linked it to the collar. I made sure, per Her instructions, that the length was sufficient to allow me movement, but restrictive enough that simple motions of my arm would tug at my captured erection, a constant reminder of Her control as I pursued the tasks of the day.

I can’t remember being so aroused for such a prolonged period of time, even including the wild young stallion of my youth, hiding uncontrollable tumescence behind a convenient book. This excitement was fueled from three sources. First, nothing stirred my submissive soul as much as being used by Her sexually, Her juices covering my face as wave after wave of pleasure took Her, while my own climax was denied. I wasn’t ignored through cruelty. Release was intentionally delayed for a purpose, unknown to me. If that isn’t control and dominance, I don’t know what is.

The second source of my excitement was the sure knowledge that what I was doing was an act of obedience, that following Her prearranged instructions all day long would please Her. I don’t remember now if the notion came from me originally or if She found a way to see that I came to believe it, but it no longer mattered. My submissive manifesto was indelibly ingrained. Pleasing Her through obedience was much more pleasurable than any mere physical release could ever be.

My third reason for almost constant arousal was more physically evident, of course. Beyond being a constant reminder of my obedience, the repeated tugging of my penis by my wrist sent near constant stimulation coursing through my loins. There were times when I would rest that I would subside a bit. When I would get up abruptly, forgetting for a moment the leash, there would be an immediate jolt of sensation that brought my erection back in full force.

I knew She would be gone for a good part of the day. There would be no way of Her monitoring my obedience. Knowing that made the pleasure I derived from obeying Her anyway all the more delightful. And the constant, yet simple, binding of my hand to my genitals served what I could only assume was it’s intent: to increase my submissiveness throughout the day. As the day progressed I shed more and more of what was not my submissive inner core, leaving a pure obedient man to greet Her when She arrived, with which She could do whatever She desired.

Finally, it was time for Her to return, and She did. She had said it would only be brief, as She had to go out again, but I knew She wanted to check in on Her new obedient pet, to see how the (delightful shudder) training was going. She quickly verified that the collar was still in place around my penis and that it was attached properly to my wrist. She was very, very pleased. I was ecstatic that She was. I squirmed in the pleasure of knowing I had obeyed well.

Then came more instructions. “Remove the collar and insert the small anal plug, My pet. Then give me twenty sit-ups.” Twenty sit-ups were nothing. Obedience and Her direct, complete control of my body was everything. I knew, although She did not let on immediately, that from the moment She saw me the first time, my body was attractive to Her. I am sure She delighted in the knowledge that She was in command of my firm abdominal muscles, that tightening up my body was training in both obedience as well as physical activity and that the result was, to Her, pleasing in form. The training provided by the anal probe I inserted was also manifold. In addition to the physical act of retaining it, which was actually more difficult to me than the sit-ups, the dominating symbolism of this Woman causing my body to be penetrated was overwhelming.

After the sit-ups She instructed me to remove the plug and reattach the collar. This I did immediately, of course. I told Her about the difficulty I had in keeping the silicone toy inside my body. I didn’t want to assume that my struggle had been intentional, that She was aware of the fit and of my musculature in that area. I knew that my giving Her feedback of that type would please Her, as it would only assist in the training She had planned.

She was indeed pleased that I informed Her that the small anal toy slipped easily in and out. She then told me that I was to repeat the activity, but this time with the largest plug in the set. I was to commence as soon as She departed, and I was to hold it in my body for 30 minutes after completing my sit-ups. With that, She left again. I, of course, immediately followed Her instructions.

I am sitting here, writing this, having obeyed like the good submissive that I am, my ass filled at Her direction, by Her will. I couldn’t be happier. I will soon have to remove it, which will result in mixed feelings from me, no doubt. I will miss it. But I will have obeyed Her one more time.

I can’t wait to see what will happen when She returns later. I only know that I will obey to the best of my ability. I hope She will be pleased. Pleasing Her through obedience is so much more pleasurable than any physical release could ever be.