Slave On Loan
Please check out all of my stories at www.assdisc.com.
Synopsis: My Mistress loans me out to a cruel and sadistic Master to rid me of my unwanted insolence to Her. Codes = M/m, torture, sexual humiliation, feet, consensual.
Copyright © Ted Underfoot
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.5/ or send a letter to:
171 Second Street, Suite 300
San Francisco, California 94105
I was scared almost to death. I was told by my Mistress to submit to Her male friend for punishment and training and I wasn’t sure that I could keep my emotions together. Submitting to someone other than my Mistress was something that I did not want although it was something I was willing to do. Submitting to a man is also something I did not want and in that case I would need a lot of coaxing. Well, here I was, about to submit to a man. If I could go through with it. I was right on the cusp of leaving before knocking on His door.
A couple of months previously my Mistress and I agreed to make our Mistress/slave relationship 24/7. She and I had been already living together and having BDSM fun on a frequent basis and after a lot of research and soul searching we agreed to take the 24/7 plunge. It has been rewarding for both of us but also quite challenging. My main problem was that I have times in which I am not in the mood to obey, whether due to stress from my career or not performing a household task to my own satisfaction, and also I tended to give a lot more backtalk than I should. And a lot of excuses. I never realized how great I was with excuses, all of them the truth and valid from my own point of view at the time but excuses nonetheless.
Talk is important and Mistress and I have agreed that I need to communicate with Her about any issues which come up. But I would take that too far and cross the line into insolence. We both knew it and I had been trying to work on it but it was very difficult for me, even when I was not in a bad mood.
For example, one night just after I had completed my mandatory 50 pushups for the evening, my Mistress came into the room and told me to do 25 pushups. My first thought was that She didn’t realize that I had just completed 50 and it would be almost impossible for me to do 25 additional without it taking an extended period of time but had I thought about the situation for one second more I would have realized that She would have heard me panting and straining from the other room. I said “Are you sure? I just finished 50 pushups.” She got a bit angry although did not lash out. She simply told me to obey which I of course did, but I felt very bad for talking back to Her and in our discussion later She told me that She was disappointed that I hadn’t even thought about the fact that She could hear me from the other room. This was just one of dozens of examples of either backtalk or excuses.
I really needed to stop the insolence and was willing to do anything which was not a hard limit such as needles. And now I was being put to the test. My Mistress commanded me to report to a Master and obey Him as I would obey Her. And I was scared shitless.
The reality was that I could safe word out of anything He might do to me and Mistress assured me that Master would fully respect the safe word and never gag me so I knew that I could safe word at any time. She even went out of Her way to make me feel okay in opting out of this loaner program. But I did not want to opt out. I wanted to do anything I could to make Her happy and opting out would only be if I really couldn’t take what was being done to me. Or what I would be made to do.
Just seconds before getting out of my car and knocking on Master’s door, I was not sure if I could take it. However, I decided not to opt out.
I knocked on Master’s door. He opened the door and for the first time I saw Him in regular clothes instead of the fetish clothing He wears at play parties, where I had seen and met Him several times previously. Master is a handsome man about 45 years old, 10 years my senior, with no facial hair and an intimidating smile. He seems to always be flashing a wicked smile and I thought it was only while at play parties but the smile was there at His house also, making it look like He was going to tear me apart in a very sadistic way, despite His pleasant manner.
“Welcome. Pookie, isn’t it?” Master said as I walked into His living room.
I blushed a bit. No-one other than my Mistress or at a play party has ever called me that and to hear it from a man was somewhat humiliating. I responded “Yes, Master” but He waived off my response and told me “Nonsense, you can call me Bill.”
I said “Thank you, Bill” and then He slapped my face with an open hand. My knees almost buckled from the surprise but I managed to stay upright. He stated “Let that be a lesson.” I hesitated in part because I was recovering from the slap and in part because I did not understand the lesson. I cowered a bit and said “Yes, Master.”
He roughly grabbed the hair on the back of my head and looked into my eyes, saying “What lesson have you learned?” I did not know what to say but I was afraid to say that because it might seem as though I was not paying attention. With His face right in front of mine I froze up a little and He said “Well?!”
I said “I don’t know, Master, I am sorry” and I almost cried.
To my relief He loosened His demeanor, stepped back, and let go of my hair. He laughed and said “Good. You need to always tell me the truth. The lesson for you to learn is that I am your Master and you are my slave and I will do whatever I want with you, including slap you in the face for no good reason.”
This is not how my Mistress treats me. She is very mean to me at times, something I love about Her, but She does not play with my emotions like this. I endeavored to try not to be caught off guard next time Master did this to me. My heart was racing and I was glad that Master was not angry with me.
I said “Yes, Master” and then He told me to strip. I expected this since I am almost never allowed to wear clothes in the house with my Mistress, and I quickly removed all of my clothing. Nakedness was not a problem for me, even in front of a man, as I had quickly become used to that at play parties. Master told me to get on the floor so I quickly dropped to my knees, and as He walked towards the couch to sit down He told me to follow Him.
In my brief crawl to sit at Master’s feet I felt that a moment of truth was coming up soon. I had hoped that I would not be required to do anything sexual but I knew that it was likely a false hope. From time to time my Mistress would tell me about a “Forced bi” situation in which I would be required to perform sexual service to a man although once She told me that She would not actually make me do that and it was only teasing. With this Master I felt certain that it would not be teasing. I dreaded when that moment would arrive and I worried that it would be at the end of my crawl. Fortunately, I was wrong.
Master said “Whenever you approach me or I approach you, you will kiss my feet, one kiss for each foot unless I tell you to continue. Clear, slave?” and I replied “Yes, Master.”
I kissed the tops of His tennis shoes. It was not my first time kissing a man’s shoes, though the first time not at a play party.
It was only a few seconds but I had a reaction to kissing His shoes. I love the feeling of submission I feel at Mistress’ feet and when I bent down to the ground and saw only His shoes right in front of my face, there was a moment when there was nothing evidently male in front of me and for a brief moment as I kissed His shoes I felt the same submission I feel at my Mistress’ feet. When I lifted my head a bit to look at Master He noticed my slight physical reaction said “Kissing my feet gets you excited, huh pookie?”
I was mortified. How could I let myself get excited at this? And now He was rubbing my face it in. I had no choice but to answer “Yes, Master” as I blushed a bit. I wanted to run out of the door to my car, despite being naked. It got worse.
Master said “Lie on the ground, face up with your body stretched out in front of the couch.” I obeyed and dreaded what was about to happen. It seemed almost in slow motion. I wanted to run, cry, beg, yell, object, something, but I knew that the punishment for that would be worse than what I was about to go through so I lay down on the floor as commanded.
Why didn’t I just safe word at this point? I knew that as terrible as I felt at this moment, it really wasn’t bad and nothing unexpected, and that the day would get much worse. Why not save myself hours of pain and humiliation and just safe word now? The answer is that I wanted to please my Mistress, even though She was not present. I was not feeling good about my ability to succeed as Her slave and wanted to do everything I reasonably could to redeem myself in Her eyes and in my own eyes. I just simply refused to back out of this.
As I lay on the floor looking up at Master’s face leaning over me, He said “Do you know what I like about having a slave? Everything!” and He proceeded to rest His feet on my face, with the soles of His tennis shoes pressing its small patterns onto my cheeks. After a few seconds He started rubbing all over my face with the soles of His shoes, careful not to hurt my nose too much or press on my eyes, but not careful in other areas.
It is easy for me to romanticize the act of having my face be used a footstool but feeling the pressure of my Mistress’ soles and bearing the weight of Her legs takes focus just to withstand the pain and simply lying there trying to bear this pain is ultimately neither fun nor exciting after a minute or two. And it gets boring as well since my Mistress simply reads for sometimes up to an hour with me as Her footstool in various positions. I cope with the boredom by constantly reminding myself of my Mistress’ pleasure and that helps me through it but now supporting a man’s feet I hoped that the experience would not be too long.
Master did not have any intention of using me as a footstool for any extended period of time. He was just trying to humiliate me, and doing a very good job of that.
The pain of His shoe soles rubbing their small patterns on my cheeks was tough to take. I worried about having damage done to my face but after a minute I realized that He knew what He was doing and I would just have to take His treatment.
I then had another physical reaction. With His tennis shoes rubbing against and covering my face, again there was nothing specifically male that I was looking and I felt the same feeling as under my Mistress’ shoes. Master said “Pookie loves being Master’s footboy, don’t you pookie?” and He allowed me enough room in front of my mouth to say “Yes, Master” which He laughed at.
I dreaded where this was leading. I was internally begging to be spared from further humiliation and would prefer intense pain but I would pay the full price here. I vowed to be a good boy for my Mistress from now on as I didn’t want to take another session of this.
Master removed His shoes and rubbed His white-socked feet on my face. Why the Hell was I becoming erect at this? His feet are larger than Mistress’ feet. But in the socks they were not obviously male feet and the mild foot smell could have been anyone’s and so my physical reaction continued.
A couple of minutes later He removed His feet from my face and, seeing that He was removing His socks, I wanted to get up and run. I’d had enough of His feet and the thought of His bare feet on my face was too much for me to take. I stopped my quick impulse but then I couldn’t help it so I jumped up off the ground and ran into another room which turned out to be a dining room. I sprinted past that into the kitchen and then into a bedroom. I just wanted to get away from Him, even though I knew it was ridiculous and only temporary.
Once I entered the bedroom I regretted bolting but my emotional momentum kept me going. In the bedroom I decided there was nothing I could reasonably do but I became terrified that He would be cruel in the inevitable punishment I would receive for this incident. I am a slave who is glad to take pain and abuse from my Mistress but I am not a masochist. I do not enjoy pain but I truly enjoy the happiness my suffering brings to my Mistress. I needed to tap into the fact that this was all for my Mistress but I failed and thought only of myself.
When Master walked into the bedroom I was crying and sobbing hunched on the carpeted floor in the corner, with my head in my hands. I had failed Him and I had failed my Mistress, I had failed myself.
Master knelt in front of me on the floor and caressed my head. He said “It’s okay, Ted, you’re allowed to have lapses. Just try to relax and it’s going to be okay.” I looked at Him with gratitude for His understanding and I said “Thank you, Master” as I stopped sobbing. Master leaned forward and hugged me, He actually hugged me. I was so thankful that I just clung to Him and forgot for a moment why I had been crying just seconds earlier.
Master said “Ted, do you want to call this off? You don’t need to go through with this.”
I started to respond “Master, it is –“ and I was going to say that it was important for me to go through with this 100% but I never got the chance.
Master pulled my head back away from the embrace and slapped my face hard, saying “Tough fucking shit. You’re my bitch today, all day.” I was stunned, physically and emotionally. I did not have a chance to react as just a few seconds later He grabbed my hair with His left hand as He slapped the left side of my face with His right hand, over and over. The slaps were not nearly as hard as the first one but they hurt and were literally, well, a slap in the face putting me in my place.
After close to 10 slaps in the left cheek I was hunched in the corner clutching my cheek and worried about potential damage to my jaw. Master brought a collar which He quickly fastened around my neck and, pulling hard on the leash, He led me on a quick crawl all the way back into the living room where the pointless chase first began. It hurt my knees to crawl, especially on the hard floor of the kitchen. My Mistress usually lets me stand when I am in our kitchen to avoid the pain in my knees but Master apparently has little or no mercy.
Once He sat on the couch I knew where He wanted me and I lay where His bare feet could easily rest on my face. And there they were, His bare feet on my face.
And they were not clean feet, not after the walk through the house.
At first I was glad not to be tortured for my bolting away from Him but after several seconds what He was doing to me really sunk in. Master was rubbing His somewhat dirty bare feet over my cheeks, eyes, nose, and my lips. His toes were playing with my lips and touching my teeth.
I had an urge to bolt again and this time the urge was stronger. I could not stand having His bare feet in my face. But then I remembered some advice I had read on the internet, when experiencing very painful torture it could be helpful to concentrate on breathing normally. I slowed down my impulse to bolt and decided to start taking deep and regular breaths.
Unfortunately, with Master’s toes playing with my lips, the breaths I took were through my nose which hit me with the smell of His bare feet. His feet were not terrible smelling but it was no doubt that they were feet and the smell combined with the sight and touch of His feet on my face became overwhelmingly humiliating. And then Master added one more of the five senses when He pressed His big toe over my teeth to nudge my jaws apart and He pressed His toe on my tongue. Added to the smell, sight, and touch was the taste of His bare foot.
This felt like the ultimate humiliation. How could it get any worse? Humiliation could be much worse than this but I could not see it at the time.
Hitting rock bottom like this had a strange effect on me. There was no place to go but up. Any fear I had was gone because this was, in my view at the time, as bad as it gets. Master’s bare feet were rubbing all over my face and even my tongue through my open mouth and there was nothing I could do. I was at the bottom of the totem pole … which meant for me at the moment that I was at the height of submission.
At that thought I started to become erect again. And I became as erect as I could be.
Master of course noticed this and I am sure that this was His plan. How could He have figured this would occur? Because I told my Mistress a few times of my secret desire to be at a man’s feet. It was not a real desire because the reality is that I am straight and would not enjoy actually worshipping a man’s feet but it was a good fantasy which my Mistress exploited by whispering about the humiliating kisses I would be forced to give to a man’s feet. It was just a game.
But this was real. And to my surprise I was really turned on by it.
Master said simply “Touch it” and I knew what He meant. I had an internal conflict with one side holding my hand back on the floor while the other side wanted to touch myself badly. The obedient side won.
I started masturbating myself as I was being humiliating under Master’s bare feet. I hate to admit this but it felt great. Mistress had me in my usual chastity device for the previous twenty days and removed it just before I was sent to Master’s house but I figured it wouldn’t matter as I did not think that I would become aroused without Her presence. I was embarrassingly wrong.
Ooh it felt good. I stuck my tongue out to lick between Master’s toes as I focused caressing the tip of my dick. Then as I jerked my dick up and down I sucked Master’s big toe in and out, in and out. I was out of my mind in lust when all of the sudden Master lifted His feet off my face and yelled “Stop! Move your hand away.”
I was so close! I obeyed, of course, but I flinched a few times wanting to get back to pleasure. I concentrated on slowing down my breathing and after a dozen seconds steadied my breathing and my emotions. Master got off the couch and on top of me, straddling my chest with His knees. Looking me straight in the eyes He said “Tell me whether or not you enjoyed that.”
I gulped because I knew I had to tell the truth but it was painful to say. I said “I loved it, Master” and gulped again from the fear of the consequences of revealing myself. He was not satisfied and said “What did you love? Tell me.” I looked straight into His eyes and said “I loved masturbating while licking your feet, Master.” Master smiled but this time it was not His smile with a touch of evil, it was a new smile I had never seen of Him even at play parties. It was a smile of the pure joy of conquest.
Master had just begun His conquest, though, and we moved on to much harder stuff. In a way I would have preferred the foot worshipping humiliation to occur after being tortured because then at least I could blame the torture for my weakness.
Master grabbed the leash and led me as I crawled through the house and into His dungeon. I have been tortured by men at play parties before and it is generally enjoyable but those scenes are usually somewhat short and not particularly intense. The only intensely painful scenes I have been in are with women and I enjoy the submission I feel when pushed to my limits of pain. I did not feel confident, though, that I would enjoy intense pain from a man and I wasn’t even certain that I could take much of it.
I wasn’t going to safe word, though, basically no matter what. Despite how it may seem on the surface, I am a strong-willed man and not hesitant to take on a challenge. I take pride in being able to suffer for my Mistress and feel very good about myself in our relationship and in general. That is why I felt so disappointed in myself at my weakness earlier in which I bolted into the other room and the fact that I cried was very disappointing to me. But I am able to move on and at least I can take pride in that.
The problem is that I am moving on but into something potentially much worse than humiliation, agony.
None of the equipment was new to me so my concern was just the matter of intensity and which activities Master would choose. I was shackled to a Saint Andrews cross and a flimsy paddle was whacked on my bare butt a few dozen times as a warm-up as I stood and squirmed. This was reminiscent of what my Mistress does and I wondered if Masters and Mistress share techniques with each other. I don’t read forums with comments in message boards for dominants as that would sort of be like reading spoilers for a movie or computer game, maybe I am strange in thinking of it that way.
Next a crop was used on my butt. I hate the crop when my Mistress uses it. It is emotionally hurtful to suffer such agony from something as simple as a crop. I have suffered through many sorts of elaborate tortures and “toys” – though how a torture device could be called a “toy” is beyond my understanding – and a crop is about as simple as it gets, but very effective. Needless to say, Master’s crop hurt like hell on my butt and on the back of my thighs. But it wasn’t unbearably painful. I managed to keep my Mistress’ face in my thoughts and that helped me through the pain.
I was moved from the cross to a bed where I was tied face down spread-eagled and unable to move. My legs were almost painfully wide apart giving Master access to insert a string of metal beads inside my butt. Depending upon how the beads are applied, the experience could be anywhere from painful to extremely enjoyable but I knew that the latter would not be applicable here so I braced for the worst. I was not disappointed but I was surprised.
The beads felt good going in me but then I felt a brief jolt of electricity inside my butt. Ouch that hurt bad. I yelled even though the electricity had stopped, as a sort of delayed reaction. The beads were way inside of me and I was given another jolt, this time lasting over a second. I screamed loud. Then another jolt and another, eliciting more screams, while at the same time the beads were being moved inwards and pulled somewhat outwards causing the jolts to occur at different places within me. I had never felt electricity applied inside my body and this was pure torture.
In fact, it felt like too much pain. I was fairly certain that if I were not tied down, I would have bolted again and run into another room or otherwise freak out. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even thrash on the bed due to the tight spread-eagled restraints. There was no escape.
There was one escape. I thought about using the safe word. I had a quick additional thought before I took the irrevocable step of safe wording. I wondered how I would feel if Mistress did this to me? That helped me because in reality it was Mistress doing this to me. She was not at the controls but Her agent, Master, was perpetrating this on me and by taking the agony from Him I was pleasing Her. That truth helped me bite down into the bed covering and just scream instead of trying to say the safe word.
And scream I did. Wow that was painful. How can an inside canal of the human body withstand so much pain and not break apart into pieces? I had no idea and just screamed into the bed. Even between jolts I was screaming. I think I screamed almost continuously for at least a couple of minutes, although there were several one or two second breaks in the screaming.
I did not pass out but I lost some awareness because the next thing I remember was that the pain had stopped though the beads were still inside me. Then the beads were slowly removed from my butt and with my insides being sensitive due to the torture I could feel every bit of movement of the beads. Finally, the beads were removed and I felt a big sense of relief as though a horrible ordeal was over.
But it was not over. Master pulled me by the hair off the bed and into shackles supported by a spreader bar suspended from the ceiling. Mistress usually does not try to manhandle me so I am not used to being pushed around like a rag doll but that was the least of my worries at this point. As I stood with my wrists shackled in the air at the level of my head, Master flogged me.
Unlike when my Mistress tortures me, Master had not been talking much at all. I don’t know why but for some reason I expected humiliating trash talk from a man but I guess it depends upon the individual. As He began to flog me, though, Master started to talk. The flogger had long and thick strands and it took some muscle to get them going. It was clear that Master was very good at handling the flogger and started off with just mild strokes, although there was still a good thud against my upper back even when not much force was applied.
Master said “You were crying like a baby earlier, you’re going to be out of tears by the time I am done torturing the hell out of you.” He was clearly enjoying this and the thuds were getting stronger against my back, starting to get painful. Master continued “Maybe if you are good I will let you lick my bare feet again” and He laughed as I started to groan from the pain of the flogger. He took His time whipping me with breaks after several strokes. The pain was starting to build.
After some silence other than the thud of the flogger against my back, Master said “And you’re going to enjoy swallowing my cum. Your Mistress told me that you have always wanted to be a cum slut and your dream is going to be a reality with me. I am your dream come true.”
There, He said that horrible word, cum. It felt more like a nightmare than a dream. The pain was really building from the repeated force of the flogger against my back as my entire body recoiled with each blow. How much of this can a body take? I was not used to thud-type blows as Mistress prefers to use on me impact implements which sting. The thuds from the flogger didn’t hurt nearly as much as the stings from my Mistress’ flogger or other implements but the thuds had built in intensity and I felt now as though my upper back was being destroyed. The contrast was like a bulldozer compared to a slap in the face.
After several minutes of being flogged with the intensity building, I was yelling in pain with each blow which meant that during the frequent quick succession of strokes I was yelling continuously. During times when Master was wielding His weapon more slowly I begged. I cried “Please please!” and He said “Please what?” After some yelling I managed to respond “Please stop, Master! Please!” and He replied “Poor baby! Are you begging?” while pausing with His flogger.
Overcome with gratitude for the rest from the pain of repeated earth-shattering blows to my body I said “Yes Master I am begging you please I will do anything you say anything.” Master said “Anything??” and I replied “Yes Master, anything I swear it.” I felt very pathetic and felt certain that I would regret debasing myself like this but I didn’t feel I had a choice and my emotions just pushed me into this humiliating approach.
Master said “If you tell me something good you would do for me, I will stop whipping you, but first I am going to whip you some more” and He proceeded to inundate me with a series of excruciatingly quick and hard strokes of the flogger on my back. I screamed and screamed but He did not stop. I felt like I was going to die and just kept screaming. I lost some awareness of time but at some point the blows did stop and I think it was only a minute later but it felt like an hour. Once the whipping was done for now I worried about internal damage from all of the force against my back but I had to concentrate on telling my Master something He would want to hear so that the whipping would stop as He said.
I didn’t have much intelligence at this point and felt like a drooling idiot barely able to put two sentences together due to the abuse I had suffered. I tried to think what Master would want to hear but I couldn’t think of anything at first and then I remembered what He told me earlier. Did He really tell me that I would enjoy drinking His cum? I couldn’t do that, there is no way. But that is what He wanted to hear, I just knew it. I couldn’t take any more flogging, I was completely done, so it was a choice of telling Him what He wanted to hear or safe wording. Then I remembered the reason I was here in the first place and the thought of pleasing my Mistress helped me again and I made the right choice. No safe wording.
I calmed down a bit and said “Please Master let me suck your dick. Please let me swallow your cum. Please Master.” I had to stop because I was starting to feel a bit sick to my stomach but fortunately He had heard enough and with His hand on my shoulder He said softly in my ear “Good boy. You are a good slave.”
Thank goodness. I felt a tremendous relief in not only ending the whipping session but also pleasing Master which in turn would please my Mistress. But then Master said “You really are going to enjoy swallowing my cum. Your Mistress told me that it is something you have always wanted to do.” That wasn’t true, though! Master unlocked my wrists from the restraints and commanded me onto my knees to crawl towards where He was sitting on a chair.
I thought “This can’t be happening to me.” Mistress likes to humiliate me by telling me that I am going to suck a man’s dick but I’ve told Her that this is a hard limit and She has agreed that it is only a fun fantasy when She tells me these things. Kissing a man’s feet was a soft limit and I could see Master pushing that but I can’t suck a man’s dick. “Please don’t put me in a tough situation, please” I silently begged Master with my eyes as I crawled towards Him.
Fortunately, Master still had His clothes on and I hoped that He would just let me kiss His bare feet again. He understood the desperation in my eyes and said “You know what’s going to happen, pookie. You’re going to be given a choice. So here is a simple question and you are free to give a completely honest answer. What would you like to do? It’s completely up to you.”
I was not prepared for an open-ended question, I had expected to be required to either do it or not. I swallowed in fear and had to think about how to respond. I was quickly engulfed in the feeling that this was my big test and if I failed or did not pass with flying colors then I would disappoint my Mistress. Then I realized that disappointing my Mistress was not my worst fear as She would probably understand if I did not want to go past my hard limit. In fact, I was mostly certain that She would be supportive and loving if I decided not to go through with this. So I could have said to Master “I would like to kiss your bare feet, Master, and I hope you will let me” and I think I could get away with it not seeming too much like I am avoiding sucking His dick.
I could have said that but I realized that it would not be satisfactory. I would not disappoint my Mistress with that … but I would disappoint myself. I was not here only because my Mistress commanded it, I was here because I deserved it. I have been an insolent slave and want to learn my place which is to submit as much as I possibly can. After these few seconds of quick introspection I took a breath. I decided to adjust the hard limit to be a soft limit.
I looked up at Him and said “Master, I would like to suck your dick.”
His face did not react as He said “Are you sure? Ted, you don’t need to do this.”
I feared He would slap my face again after seeming to have compassion at this moment but that is not what drove me to my answer. The thought of pleasing my Mistress drove me to respond “Yes Master Bill, I want to suck your dick. I am sure.”
He leaned back and smiled and I knew that He was pleased. He said “Your Mistress is going to be very pleased with you” and I responded “Thank you Master.”
Now that the decision had been made after soul searching and overcoming my own emotional barrier, I had to actually perform. As Master stood up and began to unbutton and unzip His pants while I moved back a bit to give Him room, I realized that I would need to overcome a huge barrier to actually perform this horrible act. Tears began running down my face as He lowered underwear and there It was right in front of me. It was not huge but It was growing and pointing right at my mouth.
I felt like I was in a nightmare as He sat down again and leaned forward, ready for me to begin. It was right in front of me and I stared at It as tears rolled down my face. Master looked at me and said “Beg me for It.”
I was emotionally beaten down and simply obeyed His command by saying with a broken voice due to crying “Please Master let me suck your dick, please Master, please I would enjoy sucking your dick” and He said “Suck my dick, bitch.”
I moved forward with my mouth open and closed it around His hard dick. I had an unexpected reaction which was much more focused on trying to stop crying rather than focusing on the horrible act I was committing. From time to time I cry as Mistress tortures me but I fight it and that helps me cope with the pain. But this crying now was too strong and I could not fight it. This helped me because it took some of my mind off the actual sensations of Master’s dick in my mouth.
It did not take my mind off the sensations, though. The fact was that there was a dick in my mouth and I was caressing all over the head with my tongue while my lips sucked on the shaft. Master held my head by the hair and with some pulling and pushing guided me to move my head so that I was alternating pulling away and pushing closer, sucking His dick as He likes it, back and forth with increasing speed. I was thankful that at least He did not push Himself towards the back of my throat. Master began moaning and after a couple of minutes He seemed ready to achieve orgasm. He whacked my back with a crop and I yelped into His dick but kept on sucking under the guidance of His hand pulling my hair.
I was hoping at this moment to please let me pull away before He came but after several whacks of the crop He moaned loud and quivered, thrusting forward as His cum gushed into my mouth.
It was a shocking experience. Suddenly there was a disgusting amount of cum in my mouth and when Master quickly began to become limp and pulled out of my mouth I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I couldn’t swallow, no way, so I started to turn my head to the side to just spit on the floor when Master quickly moved toward me and grabbed my head. He held the back of my head with one hand and covered my mouth with His other hand, saying “Swallow, bitch, swallow your Master’s cum!”
I felt trapped. I looked at Master like a snared animal caught in the hunt. His glee was evident on His face and I felt like His will would devour me whole and my ego would never survive this. But in that split second I saw my Mistress face in Master’s eyes.
I swallowed for my Mistress.
Master flashed a smile of pure sadistic joy and then, keeping His hand over my mouth while holding my Head by the hair, His expression softened and He said “Are you okay?”
Am I okay? Am I okay? I looked down briefly and realized, yes I was okay, and swallowing wasn’t anything probably hundreds of thousands of other people do from time to time. Suddenly I was okay. I nodded my head and Master let go of my mouth and hair.
I was okay. I had made it through. I had survived for Mistress and I didn’t pull away. I didn’t even talk back. I smiled and then once again I shed some tears. I felt weak for shedding tears yet again but I couldn’t help it and Master showed kindness by getting down on the ground next to me and just hugging me until my crying quieted down.
After a half minute of hugging we parted and I looked at Master. Then what I had done hit me in a different way. I could feel it in my stomach which was starting to rebel. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom to lean my face over the toilet as I let out what needed to be released. It didn’t take long and I felt okay after that. Once I washed my face I returned to the bedroom kneel in front of Master hoping that He would not punish me for my running off without permission.
Master could sense my concern and said “You did the right thing. How are you feeling?”
I said “Thank you, Master, I feel fine. Good actually.”
Master said “So it’s probably time for you to go, isn’t it?”
I was a bit surprised because I had thought I would be there for several hours and it had only been a bit over an hour so far. I replied “Whatever Master wants” and He asked “What do you want?” I began to respond but He interrupted after only one word and yelled down to my face “It doesn’t matter what you want!” That’s an old trick but it still works as I felt put in my place.
Master continued “You have been humiliated past reason and you have willingly licked the dirt off my feet and sucked my dick. You even swallowed. And now you are going to be tortured. How does it feel to know that all of your humiliation won’t stop the agony you are going to suffer?”
I took in His message of dominance over me and replied “I want to please you, Master, and I want to please my Mistress.”
Master said “That’s why I agreed to this. Your Mistress has been telling me about you and when She told me of your desire to please and your guilt at disappointing Her I figured that you would be compliant with me. And you have. I’m going to show you something.”
A bit over an hour ago if He had said He would show me something I would be afraid but by now I had sucked anything of His I would be afraid of so the comment didn’t affect me. He led me by my leash to crawl into His bedroom where His PC was set up and He pulled up a video application. To my shock and horror, He adjusted the video setting to show a three-quarters overhead view of me lying under His bare feet in the living room and then He adjusted the video forward to show me jacking off while sucking His toes. At times His feet parted and there was no mistaking my face and what I was doing.
I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. He wouldn’t blackmail me, would He? I mean truly blackmail, not like role-playing. No of course He wouldn’t. If He “out-ed” me then He would be out-ing Himself and that’s just not cool anyway and He would possibly be shunned by the BDSM community. Still, I couldn’t shake the fear of what He could do with the videos.
Master then opened another video showing a view of the paddling and cropping, the electric beads in my butt while I was on the bed, and the flogging leading to my abject pleading for mercy. And then in living color there I was sucking a man’s dick and swallowing His cum. I had to fight down my stomach for a moment.
Master looked at me from time to time as we watched portions of the video. He clearly enjoyed my discomfort and humiliation at having His ownership of me recorded for anyone He wanted to see. Once He had shown me sections of each of our horrifying activities, Master said “I am going to send this to your Mistress now. It will be up to Her to decide what to do with the videos. What we do the rest of the day will be sent to Her when we are done.”
I said “I understand, Master, thank you.” I was ecstatic that Mistress was going to see what I went through for Her. There would be no worry of over-stating the case on my part or any doubt, I went through hell. My thoughts turned towards what would happen the rest of the day and I hoped it would not make the previous couple of hours seem like a walk in the park.
Once Master clicked send on the e-mail with the link to the videos I thought about safe wording right then and there. After all, Mistress would understand if I just couldn’t take it anymore after all I had been through. I am not a pain and humiliation slut. Even for my Mistress while I enjoy the pain and humiliation She gives me, the main enjoyment I get is from the pleasure She derives from it. A bit over an hour is not a particularly long session but it was rather intense and I am not getting the pleasure of my Mistress perpetrating it on me. It is reasonable for me to end this now.
I did not end it now. In the course of my submission to my Mistress I have had numerous regrets and they have always been about not submitting enough, whether it is talking back or just generally being insolent. Never have I regretted allowing a scene to go longer. That is not to say that I haven’t used the safe word with Mistress. Early in our relationship She at times pushed me harder than I could go and I had no hesitation those few times to use the safe word and She would always comfort me and assure me that I did the right thing. In fact, She always rewards me for using the safe word since She relies on me to use it, when it is needed, and I have never regretted using the safe word. My only regrets are from not submitting enough, which is a different thing. There are times when I have been close to safe wording and in those cases I have never had one iota of regret in not saying it.
And this was an important time for me. I needed to prove to Mistress, and very much to myself, that I could suffer for Her. I will suffer, and I will be thankful for the opportunity.
Crawling back into the dungeon at Master’s Heels gave me the time I needed for these thoughts. Once we arrived He commanded me to lie on my back on a sort of medical-type table where my ankles were restrained and my wrists and elbows were restrained close to my sides. My chest and thighs were then strapped down to the table. I don’t like medical scenes but what I like and don’t like didn’t matter.
Master surprised me by gently fondling my dick and balls. I was expecting torture and was glad to feel pleasure instead. Once I was erect, though, He brought out a device which brought terror into my soul. I knew what it was as soon as He showed it to me. It was a long thin rod which inserts into the dick, yes into the dick. Who the hell would want something inserted there? I’ve seen these advertised on websites and never understood the appeal but I could see how sadists would enjoy using such a thing and I guess a submissive could show a huge amount of devotion to someone using such a device on Him. In my case, I was horrified.
The thin rod was attached to a wire and Master showed me the small remote control. It dawned on me that He was going to be electrifying the rod while it was inside my dick.
I panicked and what ran through my head was “No way, I’m outta here!” I jumped up and ran into the other room. Then I opened the door to the outside and ran naked to my car. I drove the car at high speed through a residential area and the car flew into the sky and I fell from a long way to crash to the earth.
But I was still there, restrained with no way to move or escape. Once I realized that I screamed.
I woke up with Master looking down on me with concern. I had passed out but it was only for a few seconds. Master was gently shaking me a bit and saying “Ted, are you okay?” and I responded “Yes, I am fine. Master.” I took a few deep breaths and to Master’s concerned look I said “I am fine now, Master, thank you, I appreciate it.” Somehow the thought of what drove me to freak out was gone but it returned quickly at His next statement.
Master said “Good, because I want to get this inside you.”
Shit. Even after freaking out and passing out, He was still wanting to go through with this. I gathered my thoughts and I think Master could sense this as He stopped and gave me several seconds to work this through. I have seen these sorts of devices on literally dozens of web sites. Those sites make money selling these devices. People on BDSM message boards even chat about these devices, not that I have read their messages in any detail. My conclusion is that many people use these devices, probably hundreds of people or possibly even over a thousand. It must be relatively safe.
That was big leap for me so I tried to reinforce it with more supposed logic. Master is a longtime veteran of BDSM and a friend of my Mistress. She entrusted Him with Her most valuable possession which I am ecstatic to say is myself. Master would not do something to me which was unsafe. It must be relatively safe.
Two logic tracks with the same conclusion. I looked at the device again and my emotions completely contradicted my logic.
I had an epiphany. Master noticed the change in my face and said “Are you okay?” I replied “Yes, Master” but my mind was still working through the issue.
All of these times when I back-talked or was otherwise insolent to Mistress, it was my emotion overriding my logic. My logic knows that my Mistress loves me as I love Her and She would never do anything to damage me. And I know that after I act poorly I regret it. My logic tells me that I should not do these things. The epiphany I had at this moment is that the key to resolving my insolence issues is to allow my logic to rule my emotions.
This is not an easy thing. Emotions are a natural part of all human beings. But with the realization, I think I could be on the way towards being a better slave to my Mistress.
I smiled and said “Master, I think you have cured me. I am going to be a better slave to my Mistress and I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
Master laughed. He said “I guess that’s not the first time I have seen a strange reaction to this ‘sound’” as He referred to the device. He continued “It brings out such strong emotions” and I added “Master, I can see why.”
Master asked “Are you ready?” and I smiled and replied softly “It doesn’t matter if I’m ready.” He laughed again and said “Right.”
I had become limp again so He fondled me for a few seconds until I was erect and then He Held my dick for insertion. Despite my epiphany I dreaded this greatly and hoped that I wouldn’t faint from the fear, or maybe I hoped that I would pass out to avoid feeling it. I thought “This is going to hurt like the worst hell in the world.”
It did hurt but it wasn’t hell and the fear was worse than the reality. Feeling the thin rod go inside of me, where really nothing should go inside ever ever ever, was one of the most horrifying things I ever felt. Master continued to stroke my dick from time to time to keep it hard as He slowly inserted the rod further and further into me. The initial penetration into the dick hurt the most and now the rest felt more like violation than actual pain.
I felt extremely vulnerable and abused. I had been victimized for the past hour and a half but having this inserted into my most sensitive spot felt like a complete violation of anything reasonable, way beyond anything I had experienced before. But I took it like a trooper and I was proud of myself for not freaking out any further.
Once the rod was inside me as much as it could go, Master held up the remote and looked at me with an evil smile on His face. I took a couple of deep breaths and then a couple more, waiting for the agony to begin. The wait seemed forever as Master was dragging out the moment to savor my terror or maybe to see if I would safe word. I was not going to safe word. I was in it for the duration, in it to win it where “it” was the pride of my Mistress and of myself.
Master kept me in suspense as to when the jolt would occur as He occasionally stroked my dick to keep it hard. He then said “I am not going to zap you.” I looked at Him confused but quickly realized that He was just getting me to lower my guard. He surprised me, though, by disconnecting the small wire attached to the end of the device and setting it and the small control attachment aside. He returned to stroking my rod-filled dick and my confusion washed over me as I allowed it to be replaced by pleasure.
Was I really feeling pleasure with a thin rod inside my dick? Not from the rod but yes, it was very pleasurable to be given a hand job considering that I had not cum in several days and I was overdue. And compared to the pain and humiliation I had been going through earlier in the day, this was just heaven even with a rod inside me.
Master kept at it and I started to get closer to achieving an orgasm. But there was a rod inside my dick and I didn’t want to implode from the internal pressure of cum not being able to get out. I was immobile due to the restraints so I couldn’t pull away. I said “Master, I can’t cum” and He said “Why not?” I responded “Because of the device in me, Master” and He said “You will.”
I thought “I will? Is He going to make me implode?” No of course not, He is an experienced Master and must know what He is doing. He will probably just tease me up to a point and then stop. My Mistress does a lot of tease and denial on me and knows how much I love that, well at least the tease part. That is something I don’t quite understand, how can tease and denial be considered torture? For me it’s pure pleasure for as long as She touches me, even when the action pauses for a few moments, although the denial part at the end is torment.
I thought “Wow this was feeling good. I don’t consider it a contradiction in my being heterosexual to be turned on by a man giving me a hand job. If it feels good it feels good, and this feels real good. Oh so good. Mmmmmm. Okay, He’s getting close, ohhhh!”
I anxiously said “Master, it’s getting close!” and He said “Yes, slave, I know. Think about the taste of your Master’s bare feet earlier.” I saw His game which was to humiliate me into not cumming but I was really getting close and I said “Master, please, it’s close!” and I was afraid I would bust a nut with an explosion which could not occur. He said “Yes, slave, now think about the taste of my cum in your mouth! Didn’t it taste great?”
I didn’t need that memory but I was too far gone. The orgasm was about to occur and I panicked and tried to pull back. Master touched just the right spot and put me way over the edge. I didn’t give a fuck anymore and just let loose, it felt soooo good.
To my surprise and delight, I did not implode. I let loose and I felt cum spurt and dribble. I looked and my cum was going right through the rod which apparently was actually a thin tube. Master looked at the expression on my face – a mixture of surprise, pleasure, relief, and chagrin – and He burst out laughing. Here I was with a mess which had dribbled onto my groin and Master was just laughing at me. I couldn’t help but join in with His laughter.
Once He got hold of Himself, Master said “Have you learned your lesson yet?” My intuition flashed a warning and I sobered up, hoping that Master’s sadism wouldn’t rear its head at this moment, with the thin tube still stuck up me softening dick. I said “Yes, Master, I will do my best to be a good boy all the time.”
He said “I guess you’re hoping that I remove this,” indicating the thin tube. I replied “Yes please Master, I’m begging.” He said “No you’re not but you don’t need to” and He slowly pulled the tube out of my dick. The feeling of having such movement inside my most sensitive area again was a violation but this time for a good cause, to get this thing out of me. Halfway out Master stopped and said “Maybe I should get the wire and remote, I would hate to deprive you of the pleasure of feeling the zap.”
Master still seemed to be joking but I was not going to take any chances whatsoever. I said “Whatever Master wants” and I sort of clenched my face a bit in hoping for mercy. Master was still joking, though, and said “Don’t worry, I don’t want you to pass out again” as He resumed slowly removing the tube.
Once the tube was out of me it was a big relief. I felt like I had passed through another ordeal. This whole experience with Master has felt like one ordeal after another and I was emotionally and physically spent. It seemed like the thin tube was not only holding up my dick from getting limp but holding me up because at that time I realized that I was exhausted so I lay my head back and let my eyes almost close.
Master said “Sleepy time, here this should help” and He retrieved from a shelf a blindfold and tight ear plugs. Once I was blind and deaf Master started caressing one of my nipples which seemed out of place considering that I had just cum but His purpose became clear as I felt a painful clamp suddenly on my nipple. I couldn’t see or hear anything but I heard my own yelp from the pain and then another yelp when my other nipple was clamped. Then something was attached to each clamp and they were each somewhat pulled to the side away from each other which caused me a great deal of pain. My Mistress sometimes tortures my nipples and watching Her in action helps me get through the pain but I could not see anything now and this pain wasn’t exactly conducive to sleepy time.
Fortunately, Master did not play further with the clamps on my nipples and left me alone for 15-20 minutes. The constant torture of my nipples was painful but I appreciated the rest time and was able to somewhat relax, though not sleep.
I was not asleep but quite relaxed when suddenly I felt an excruciating whack on the sole of my right foot followed by an even more painful whack on the sole of my left foot. The first one startled me and the second one put me into orbit with the pain. I screamed like there was no tomorrow and I kept screaming for several seconds until Master’s hand caressed my shoulder for a moment in an effort to get me to calm down. I concentrated on taking deep breaths despite the lingering pain especially in my left foot when my right foot and then my left foot were whacked hard again eliciting more screaming. Squirming was not possible but I did provide a good test for the tight restraints which they unfortunately passed.
Master removed the ear plugs and blindfold as I tried to catch my breath. I thought He was being kind to me but I saw Him take the hard stick and measure another blow to my right foot. I begged “Please Master, please” but it was a half-hearted attempt because I knew that begging would be futile. Master ignored it.
He whacked hard again, but the blow did not connect as He held up. I flinched, though, and cried out in anticipated pain causing Him to laugh. He said “You know you are really cute when –“ and He whacked my right sole hard again causing me to scream. For some reason a whack on my left sole hurt worse and I knew that would be next. I lost control. I begged with all of my heart “Please Master, please don’t hurt me, please have mercy! Please!” and as He moved slightly to get in position for a whack on my left foot my begging took on maximum urgency. But it was no use. Whack on my left foot and my entire lower leg felt a jolt of agony. I lost my breath and was not able to scream, only croaking and feeling like I was going to choke on my own voice. What came out of my mouth was a throaty combination of a howl, scream, and groan.
Master gave me a minute or so to catch my breath and deal with the pain, which was very difficult. He said “Three down, seven more to go!”
Seven more of those whacks on each foot? I couldn’t take it. Now was the time to safe word. I knew my limit and this was it. No more for me.
During the remaining time of my brief break between blows I pictured Mistress and wondered if I could take just one more for Her. “Please Mistress give me strength,” I thought. I decided to take one more whack on each foot before safe wording. The next whack on my right foot almost broke my resolve. I was in so much pain that my face was sweating and I just hoped that the whack on my left foot would not damage it. So I braced for the final blow and swallowed the safe word.
The next blow did not occur. Instead, Master removed the restraints from my ankles and thighs and then removed all of the restraints leaving me feeling tremendous relief and gratitude. Master told me to get up and see if I could walk okay and when I carefully swung my legs over to one side onto the ground I could tell right away that I was fine and it was just a bit painful to walk. I was in awe of Him, His physical and emotional expertise combined with safety awareness and just being a great Master. Plus I was a bit drunk with all of the pain and humiliation I had felt in the past couple of hours. I got down on my knees and kissed His bare feet. Willingly.
Master said “Ready for more fun, pookie?” in an ironic tone. He knew that there was nothing fun for me about this. I looked up from my knees and said the obligatory “Yes, Master.” I think I managed to keep all negativity out of my reaction because I figured it would just spur Him on to additional sadism.
I have learned that with my Mistress when I am not in a great mood She tends to ramp up the torture and other suffering to help me get out of the mood and avoid it in the future. It is difficult to control a mood but I am finding that Her training is having some success. She is careful not to punish me for communicating about my mood or about anything else with Her, it is the poor mood itself which elicits punishment and whether or not I communicate about it She can always see inside my mood after just a brief amount of time. Fortunately, I am typically in a good mood but this day’s experience was very tough to take so it was quite an effort for me not to show my emotional anguish to Master.
Master pulled me up by the hair and then wrestled me into a position in which He held my neck from behind. I was surprised by His quick action and was right away put in what is called a rear naked choke hold, appropriately named when taking into account my lack of any clothing. Master pulled one of my arms across my neck as He wrapped one arm around my neck and applied pressure. He could easily kill me but I didn’t have that fear.
At first He didn’t seem to be putting pressure on my neck as there was no pain or pressure on my throat but I felt pain on the sides of my neck, especially where my own arm was being pressed against my neck. It only took a few seconds of that pressure for me to begin to feel light-headed and I tapped Master’s arm with my one free hand as a universal signal that I give up.
To my horror, Master did not let up after I tapped and as I lost consciousness I felt like I was about to die. I guess it was only a few seconds later that I regained consciousness and I was being guided by His arms onto the ground. He laid my head so that my face was on the top of His bare foot and when I tried to lift my head He kept my face pressed against His foot. I was groggy and couldn’t have fought back if I wanted to.
After keeping my face pressed against His foot for several seconds Master let me go and as He lay on His back on the floor He removed His pants and set them aside so that He only had on a shirt and underwear. He told me to crawl up to between His legs and try to strangle Him with my hands.
The last thing I wanted to do was to try to fight Him but I knew that I had no choice so, while on my knees between His legs, I leaned over His body and reached with both arms towards His throat. I knew for certain that I would never make it to His throat and I was not disappointed as He grabbed one of my wrists and pushed aside my other arm. Then He quickly wrapped one of his legs around my neck and locked His ankle with His other leg, trapping my arm which He was holding by the wrist with His hand.
Earlier He had choked me out with His arms and now I would be choked out with His legs in what I learned later is called a triangle choke hold. He did not choke me out right away, though, He gave me time to be aware of my situation.
I was scared. Being choked out by Master’s arms earlier was a very frightening experience and made me feel as though there was a chance I could die. Now with His stronger legs about to choke me out I was almost in a panic. I thrashed around and tried to escape but there was nowhere to go so I went limp. He pulled my head upwards by the hair and when He saw that I had begun to cry He let me have it.
Master said “What a wimp. You’re just a worthless slave. You know what? I’m going to tell your Mistress that you were disobedient and She should throw you out on your ass. How does that make you feel wimpy pookie boy?”
I was angry. A part of me had an urge to yell defiance at Him, a part of me was aware that He was just playing me, and a part of me feared that He actually might risk my relationship with my Mistress by telling Her that I was disobedient. The fear won by far. My anger quickly turned into begging which was garbled by being in the choke hold and I said “No please Master, please, I swear, I will do anything –“ and Master interrupted me to mock me with “Ohh, I’ll do anything Master, anything. Damn right you will!”
Master let go of my hair and then squeezed with His legs. I was choked out again. I regained consciousness I think just a few seconds later as He was sliding His underwear down a bit with His shirt already off. My entire body was completely limp as He pushed my face down to His growing dick. I accepted His dick in my mouth, though I didn’t have much of any choice, and then He lifted and lowered my head so that I was sucking His dick in and out of my mouth.
Master was using me as a sex toy.
My body was still limp from being choked out and He just kept bobbing my head up and down. The only thing I could do was cry.
Master pushed me off Him and laid my still weak body on the floor face down. Then He fucked me in the ass.
I cried and cried. From time to time my Mistress pegs me with Her strap-on dildo and sometimes teases me that She will have a man fuck me but it is nothing like the real thing. Here I was forced through wrestling holds to submit to being fucked and I felt like it was the worst violation I could go through. It was not actually the worst, having to suck Master’s dick earlier was probably worse, but just the way I was tossed around and physically controlled like a rag doll made me feel completely worthless and abused.
I will never forget the feeling of anguish and the sensation of His dick thrusting in and out of my ass. It was as if I could feel every inch of movement inside of me and I gasped with each thrust. As Master started to explode inside of me I screamed.
Once Master was done He slithered on top of me and just laid His weight on my back, making it difficult for me to catch my breath. He kissed the back and side of my neck a few times and just nestled against me. I was still whimpering but realized that the worst was over so I just lay there silently, thankful for the respite from pain.
Master said into my ear “You’re great, you know that? It’s been 20 years since I have had two orgasms in the same day.” I wasn’t feeling the love and just wanted to get out of there. He continued “Next weekend I’m going to bring over a few of my gay friends and they’re all going to love fucking you.”
That comment took me over the edge. Mistress forgive me but I can’t take this anymore. There is no way I could take getting gang banged and I had to safe word. There just wasn’t any other way. I hesitated a moment, trying to see any way out, but there was no way out as Master’s body was holding me down and His breath was on my neck. Fucked by multiple guys. Just the thought of it made me shiver in disgust.
Right after I shivered Master turned His head towards the door and said “Hey Paul, come here, I’ve got a guy for you to fuck!”
That snapped me out of my emotional state because it was obviously ridiculous, though I admit to a moment of panic before realizing that Master was just yanking my chain. I realized that there was no need for me to safe word at this moment with nothing about to happen and as sadistic and horrifying Master is, I still trusted that He would honor the safe word. In fact, I knew with all my heart that He would honor it. I realized then that I hadn’t even considered safe wording just before I was fucked as I guess I was too out of it from being choked out twice.
I finally got my emotions together and calmed down. I then realized that what I went through wasn’t so bad at all, just some fun for Master and nothing all that unusual compared to other things I could be put through, such as a true gang bang. I felt silly for getting so worked up about being fucked and for crying for the umpteenth time today. I had really been crying hard. I almost cried just thinking about how much of an emotional wimp I was but managed to stay calm and just waited for Master’s next whim.
After a few more minutes Master pushed Himself off me and then flipped me over onto my back, moving back on top of me and staring down at my face as He held Himself up with His arms. I could have tried to struggle now that I had recovered from the choke outs but I had no fight in me. I was all submission.
Master looked down on me from just a few inches above my face and said “How are you doing?” His tone had compassion in it and I said “Master, I am fine, thank you Master.” He leaned up a bit and cocked His right hand back to slap the taste out of my mouth and normally I would have flinched but I felt completely submissive to Master’s will and if He wanted to slap me then it would be done.
Master did not slap me. He put His hand back on the floor and then leaned His head down to give me a kiss on the lips. I wanted to turn away but His will be done and I accepted whatever He had in store for me. Fortunately, He only pecked my lips and then He pushed Himself up to stand over me. He grabbed the leash still attached to my collar and told me to get up so I pushed myself up to my hands and knees and crawled to follow Him as He pulled on the leash.
At Master’s Heels I crawled into His bedroom where He showed me video clips of the look on my face as I ejaculated through the tube in my dick, getting whacked on the soles of my feet when I almost safe worded, getting choked out and used as a sex toy with my mouth around Master’s dick, and getting fucked in the ass and crying like an abused baby. He pushed me further to the ground and then typed a few sentences before sending the videos to my Mistress.
Master then led me into the kitchen where He put a bowl of water on the floor for me to drink from. For the few hours I had been here Master had been giving me occasional drinks of water from a cup, because pain and suffering is very thirsty work for both of us, but now it was doggy time and of course I did not complain. He heated a frozen dinner in the microwave and had me eat from the plastic tray on the floor with His bare feet right in front of me to look at as He ate some good-smelling homemade leftovers which He had heated in the microwave. The frozen dinner was small but still took me more time to eat than His large helpings of leftovers and when He was done eating He took the plastic tray from below my face and threw it and my uneaten food in the trash. I took one last drink from the dog bowl before He removed that also and then He led me by the leash to crawl into the dungeon. He let me crawl into the bathroom for a few minutes.
Mistress and I avoid any strenuous play right after a meal and thankfully Master did not put me through anything vigorous but He still managed to have fun at my expense.
Master cuffed my wrists behind my back and put on my nipples metal clamps which were attached to moderately sturdy chains dangling from bolts in the ceiling. The clamps hurt a bit but not much although I knew that this was only the beginning.
Then He pulled on the other end of the chains to lift the clamps which caused me a great deal of pain until I stood on my tiptoes to minimize the pulling on my nipples. Master attached the other end of the chains to a nearby table so that the upwards pull on my nipples was a constant. There was a section of elastic on the chains to allow for give when I moved up and down but moving down was not a good option as it increased the upwards pull and pain on my nipples. He also wrapped leather straps under my arms and attached the straps to bolts in the ceiling to hold my body in case I lost balance and would otherwise fall to the ground.
Then Master went into the kitchen and returned with a cup of pudding which He ate as He watched me struggle with my predicament. I was standing on my toes as much as possible to minimize the pain and it wasn’t bad except that I could not stand like that indefinitely as my feet would begin to feel increasing discomfort in addition to not being able to maintain the strength of my lower legs to remain on my toes. Before I got to the point of not being able to stay up on my toes I experimented with lowering myself a bit but the pain in my nipples quickly increased.
Master said “Fun, isn’t it, I might take a long time to finish my dessert” and kicked His feet up onto a footrest. I managed to stand on my toes for a few minutes but it was hurting my calves, the balls of my feet, and even my knees and hips and I had no choice but to let my feet rest. I guess I let go too quickly because the pain in my nipples was intense. I yelled loud and got up on the balls of my feet again but couldn’t continue and had to lower myself again. I tried to find some leverage against the leather straps which were under my arms but they were too loose.
So much for taking it easy after dinner. I guess this wasn’t strenuous but it sure was painful and after a few minutes of alternating nipple pain with the pain in my lower body when I was up on the balls of my feet, I had done a lot of groaning and yelling in pain and I was starting to gasp for breath. Master was having a great time watching my dance of pain and said “Had enough?” and I replied through gritted teeth “Yes, Master, please Master.”
He didn’t move other than taking another tiny bit of pudding on His spoon. I tried to withstand the pain but my nipples felt like they were being slowly ripped off and it was difficult for me to hold back from screaming. After another minute or so my calves felt like they were on fire and I begged and whimpered “Please Master, please, I will do anything, please” even though I knew it would be futile.
Master laughed and to my surprise stood up, giving me hope that He would release me from this horror. He slowly walked up to me and asked “Do you remember why you are here?” and I replied “Yes, Master, because my Mistress told me.” Due to the increasing pain it was difficult for me to concentrate on talking.
Master said “Because you are a fucking pain in the ass. Your Mistress should be worshipped and obeyed but what do you do? Hmm?”
That hit me where it hurt. I was vulnerable from the agony I was in and now He threw in my face the problems I have with my Mistress. I reacted with anger but also with anguish. I screamed “Fuck you!!!!” and then screamed from the excruciating pain.
Master said “Okay okay” and unclipped my nipples which elicited a scream of momentary agony and my knees started to buckle but He caught me at the same time the leather straps under my arms caught me. Then He removed the straps and with my wrists still cuffed behind my back He grabbed the back of my head and slapped my face at least a dozen times with each hand. I felt like a bobble-head doll and my cheeks felt like they were on fire from the sting.
Master asked “So how do you treat your Mistress?”
I was groggy but not in nearly as much pain as when He asked the question moments ago. I replied “I am an ass.” He said say it again so I did and then He had me repeat it much louder over and over. After a half dozen times He told me “Shut the fuck up you fucking idiot.”
Master disconnected my wrist cuffs from each other and attached them to chains hanging from bolts in the ceiling so that I was restrained standing up with my wrists apart and slightly above my Head, with room for me to move around. Master then blindfolded me. As He was setting me up in this position He said “You think you can just admit your guilt and go through a bit of pain and it’s all over but you’re really going to need to put up or shut up. What you have been through will seem like nothing by the time I am done with you tonight.”
This last statement caused chills to run up and down my spine. He sounded deadly serious. Master retrieved a long bullwhip from a peg on the wall. A long thick intimidating bullwhip.
My Mistress sometimes uses a bullwhip on me but it is a cheap one and is not one of the centerpieces of Her toy collection. It hurts to be whipped by it but there has never been a time when I have screamed since the pain of each stroke does not linger long and She does not have much of an appetite for using the bullwhip for an extended session.
There is something about a bullwhip which seems core to torture and BDSM slavery. When experiencing the bullwhip I feel like I am going through what possibly millions of true slaves throughout history have gone through. I enjoy the feeling when my Mistress holds the whip.
I knew tonight would be different, though. Master cracked the whip on the ground near me and the loud snap was very scary. He seemed hell bent on breaking me down completely with His beautiful bullwhip and I decided that I needed to be strong to avoid safe wording and disappointing my Mistress. I pictured my Mistress in my mind and I even softly said out loud “For you, Mistress.”
The first crack of the bullwhip against the middle of my back was pure agony. The idea of warm-up was completely gone as the real torture began right away. The second crack was against my butt and I jumped in the air and yelled. Any thoughts I had of Mistress or anything else went out the window as I had no concentration to spare.
The next several strokes of the bullwhip rained down on my bare skin like lava, with each blow forcing a loud yell from my mouth and a jerk from my body. I was literally dancing around trying to avoid having two consecutive strokes in the same place. Soon the fire of the lash was burning in my upper and middle back, my chest and stomach, my butt, and the front and back of my thighs. One whip stroke snapped against one of my nipples and I screamed uncontrollably for a few seconds.
The next thing I knew the whipping had paused and Master was walking around me to view the welts which had already begun to show up. I had only suffered about a dozen blows and I felt like I was at my limit. But Master had barely started.
For the next several minutes Master took His time and delivered devastating cracks of the whip all over my body. I was thankful that the blows were no longer raining down in quick succession but it gave me time to feel terror at the thought of the next stroke. It had to be the end. I was screaming after some of the blows and Master had to realize that I couldn’t take anymore. He may have realized but He kept going, with just enough of a pause between strokes to allow me to convince myself not to safe word. I gritted my teeth and tried my best to breathe regularly but it was no use as my body was completely at the mercy of Master’s whip and there was little mercy to be found there.
Master paused the whipping and walked up to me. He said “Crying like a baby again, what a fucking wimp. It’s no wonder your Mistress asked me to determine if you were even worth keeping. What should I tell Her, pookie?”
I was sobbing and felt like a broken man, or much less than a man and less even than a slave. I was nothing. I needed my Mistress and when from Master’s talk I felt that I might lose Her I stood up a bit straighter and stopped sobbing to say “I love Her and I would do anything for Her.”
Master responded “But you don’t do everything She says, do you? You argue. You make excuses. You’re a fucking bitch, aren’t you?”
Master was right. I was a bitch. I didn’t deserve my Mistress. I broke out crying again and couldn’t stop sobbing. I didn’t even hear what Master was telling me. I felt that I had lost it all, my self-respect, my ability to serve, and maybe even my Mistress. Without my Mistress I was nothing.
Master caught my attention by shaking me and asking me right in front of my face “Well, do you?” I didn’t understand what He was asking and when I didn’t respond He shook me again and said “Pookie, do you want one more chance?”
I stopped sobbing and yelled in pain and anguish “Yes I want one more chance, pleeeeeaaase!!!!” and then I broke down again sobbing. Master then hugged me and let me cry into His chest.
That lasted only a minute and then Master said “If you want one more chance you’re going to have to earn it” and He stepped back as He readied the whip. I was ready to earn it. Crying against Master’s chest I had found strength to fight for what I wanted, what I needed, which was to get back in the good graces of my Mistress. I realized that Master was testing me and I felt, or at least I was somewhat certain, that He was just testing me with His comments that my Mistress would leave me. But that didn’t change what I felt I had to do. I screwed up my courage and resolved myself to take the pain, no matter what.
The next stroke hit right in the middle of my back again and my resolve weakened. I had a momentary panic that I would weaken again but I stood up straight for the next blow. Whack across my upper back and snapping on my shoulder, it hurt like Hell but I managed to keep my groan down to a low volume. After a couple of more blows I began to feel a strange sensation. The blows from the whip were still relentless, albeit still with pauses of over a dozen seconds between each, but the assault became more bearable.
After a couple of more blows I wondered if my skin was getting numb but I also noticed that I was beginning to moan without any regard to the rhythm of the beating I was suffering. For the first time in my life I entered subspace, the physical and mental realm I had read about for years in which endorphins released in a body due to pain can cause a BDSM torture victim to bear the pain and experience a sense of euphoria.
Despite the excruciating pain and also because of it, I was in a state of euphoria. The whipping increased in frequency and intensity and I felt every blow but it was all within a haze of ecstasy. I repeatedly moaned instead of groaned and I felt deliriously happy. Master paused in the whipping and adjusted the chains above my wrist manacles so that I was no longer able to dance around and turn, and then the whipping continued. Stroke after stroke and I felt a couple of small areas of wetness on my back which had to be blood. But I didn’t care. I wanted the whipping to continue and it did, all over the back of my body.
Finally the whipping was over and footsteps approached me from behind. My Mistress walked in front of my face and said “Hello my pookie!!!”
She had the face of an angel. My Mistress leaned up and kissed my cheek and then hugged my head. And I laughed like a madman and couldn’t stop laughing for several minutes, even after She stepped back and asked me “How are you, pookie?” I tried to answer “wonderful” but I couldn’t speak through my laughing so She just hugged me again.
A half hour or an hour later, after my Mistress had comforted me in Master’s bed with Him leaving us in privacy, my Mistress guided me to the living room where She thanked Master who replied that it was His pleasure. My Head was still floating in the clouds and my Mistress told me “Say thank you to the nice Master” so I gave a lopsided smile and waved, saying “Thank you, Master.” I felt like I was all drugged up, which I was from the endorphins.
I never did enter subspace again. It must have been the combination of intense humiliation and pain as well as the fear which were all part of the day I spent with Master. The long crying jags probably also helped. My Mistress considered the idea of loaning me to Master again just to get me into subspace but my abject begging on this one occasion was successful and I was not subjected to another experience at Master’s house, although my Mistress did often loan me to Master for non-sexual torture at play parties.
The area of success I had in which I am most proud is that after being loaned to Master, I was no longer insolent or disobedient to my Mistress. I can’t say that I became a perfect slave but my Mistress tells me that I became much more obedient and my service has exceeded even Her lofty expectations. This has made me extremely happy.
I am very thankful to Master for His Help in allowing me to achieve my greatest dream which is to be truly worthy of service to my Mistress. I no longer allow my mood to negatively impact my level of service and I never give backtalk, or not much. Whenever I feel an emotion which might cause me to transgress in my service, I take a moment to allow logic to kick in. I also think more of how my actions affect my Mistress and I always set Her current and long-term happiness far above any other considerations whenever I am required by circumstance to make a decision.
It only took me a couple of weeks to get over the nightmares from the intense humiliation I was subjected to and my Mistress was very understanding during that time in comforting me as I frequently cried in Her arms. And it only took me a month to be able to look at a naked man again without literally flinching. I will never forget the taste of Master’s feet and that sometimes creeps into my thoughts as I am about to experience the monthly orgasm Mistress allows me but the taste helps serve as a reminder to me to remain humble at all time in my Mistress’ presence and so I am thankful for it.
I do not recommend this approach for everyone as not all slaves would benefit from being trained by a different Master. It simply worked for me and for that I am very grateful.
Word Count = 15,950
See all my stories at http://www.assdisc.com.