1992. January, Saturday evening.
...over 4 years now since my master began training me to serve her as a bitch in continuous heat. Her special combination of herbs, intermittant female hormones, conditioning and training keeps my small, but firm, perfectly rounded breasts, full and instantly ready to leak clear fluid at the slightest touch of her finger, lick of her tongue, or the brush of my shirt (for over a year now I have been wearing a thin "adolescent bra" with small, absorbant nursing pads over my nipples, so that I don't wet or stain my shirts from the almost continuous leaking).
She keeps the silver lock she had inserted through a piercing just beneath the head of my penis continuously locked now to make certain that I am unable to have penile sex with anyone. She wears the little silver key to the lock around her neck day and night.
After dinner, she looks me in the eyes... a silent smile. She asks me to take off my shirt and "bra", then hold my wrists in front of me, and, kissing first one and then the other, places a wrist cuff on each and then latches them together. I am immediately dismissed to my room - an audible "click" means I am locked inside. There will be... is nothing to do. Nothing except sit on the bed and wait.
I hear her talking quietly on the phone. Soon, the doorbell rings, and several womens voices enter the unseen room on the other side of the locked door. Surprise: another ring. This time a man's voice enters.
A few moments later, the lock on my door suddenly clicks, the door opens and she enters, calling me over directly in front of her. As I begin to walk toward her, two of her girlfriends, familiar to me throughout my training, and a tall, but portly, unfamiliar man join her on either side. Her girlfriends smile, but he stares at me...his eyes slowly moving from my locked wrists, to my crotch and finally locking on my averted eyes. She suddenly demands for me to stop, walks over to me, unzips and then pulls down my pants, while verbally point out that I am not allowed to wear underwear, and therefore always naked beneath my pants.
She finally grasps the side of my belly in one hand, digging her nails into my soft flesh, while moving the other hand down... down until it cradles the silver lock, all the while explaining how her training has been directed these last few years at re-educating me to be wholly receptive. As she finished, her hand let go of my side, drifted lightly up and gently begin stroking first my right, and then my left nipple. To the watching man's amazement, little drops of clear fluid immediately began to drip from them down my belly. I suddenly felt embarassed, but before I could react, one girlfriend had moved behind me and placed a thick leather dog collar around my neck, and the other deftly locked the wrist cuffs onto the collar. But it was my master who fastened a long, black leather leash from the collar, threaded it through a metal eye in the center of the room above my head, and then attached it to another eye far across the room where I couldn't begin to reach it.
At this point, she turned to the man and began explaining to him about my role as a bitch in heat. She had done this before for "dates," and I expected, when she had finished, that she would turn and walk away with her friends, leaving me secured and confined to the center area of the room, unable to touch myself, while they went out for the evening, and I was left to patiently await her return and pleasures.
But this time, instead of leaving, she moved in back of me, and demanded I bend over, presenting my buttocks to her. I could see the man directly in front of me staring wide-eyed, his eyes dilating with excitement, as, in the mirror directly behind him, I watcher her reaching her fingers down the front of her pants, wet them with her scent and then wipe the liquid on the outside of my anus. The feel of her warm juices dripping slowly down my thighs made me suddenly start, but she firmly grabbed be from behind to hold me down, until each of her girlfriends had repeated the action. Her grip slowly tightened, and she said in a firm voice, "Don't tense your sweet little hole. I don't want you to tense your little hole. What we're doing isn't for you."
Then, she motioned to the man to join her behind me. I could see him in the mirror standing now where she had been standing, slowly examining me with his piercing eyes.
She let go of my hips, and as the leash tightened, straightening me up, my buttocks brushed the mans clothes and, the mirror was turned away. I felt two large hands grasp my waist firmly from behind.
I tried to look back, but the tightened leash and his strong grip prevented it. Before I could say anything, his hands deftly moved up my chest and, began firmly milking my dripping nipples. Immediately they began to flow freely again, and my skin broke out in sweat. A groan began in my lower abdomen, but before it could surface, I heard my master quietly whisper in my ear, "Stay!" The lights went out, and I heard the three women leave the room laughing and talking together.
Again, I tried to look behind me, but this time, the man's grip on my nipples tightened, and began to squeeze and milk them with an intensity that I had never felt with my female master. As the liquid began to stream from them, his right hand moved down, parted my buttocks firmly and I felt his large finger push firmly against and then enter me.
I moved up onto my toes, but the combination of the one hand firmly milking my breast, the other firmly between my buttocks and inside of me made movement useless.
I suddenly remembered my training, and as I consciously relaxed the muscles surrounding the finger, I felt it slide past the inner muscles. Despite all my training, I tightened firmly around it. Again I tried to move, but with every movement, his firm, unyielding pressure seemed to force him deeper into me.
I started to struggle, and then stopped, when I realized that he was once again grasping my waist with BOTH HIS HANDS! I gasped.
Behind me, a cold steel band surrounded my waist, and snapped was locked in the front. Just as quickly, another cold steel band passed on either side of the firmness somehow still inside of me, slid between my legs, and also snapped locked in front.
I tried again to move, but now the firmness was locked inside of me, moving with my every movement. I heard a quiet laugh, and then, an odd tingling sensation began deep inside of me, like an electric, internal itch, until I could feel it all along the firm rod. I gasped as it changed to into a slightly slower, but much deeper, rhythmic pulsing.
The muscles inside of me tighten with the pulses, and released in between them, and I noticed my body to beginning to rock in synchrony with the ever slowing rhythm. But as the rhythm slowed, the intensity increased, and my muscles seemed to take on a desire of their own, like the bitch in heat I had so long been trained to be, but had never really experienced.
"Ah, you like that, eh?" I heard the low voice say, as the waves became even slower and firmer. "You like that don't you? Well, it's time you really began to learn what it's like to WANT to be mounted, to BE the bitch in heat your master has been slowly training you to become. But it's not to be for your pleasure, or under your control. See?" and suddenly the pulses stopped. Dead. Nothing.
"You are about to learn what it is like to have no further control over your desires." Suddenly an electric spark seemed to explode inside of me, and my muscles cramped like iron about the firmness. Then, as the intense cramp changed again back into the slow, rhythmic contractions, I could feel my body begin to heave with receptive lust. As the hot waves of my own lust began to syncronize with the muscular contractions over which I seemed to no longer have any control, I felt his grip on my hips lessen, and the contractions rapidly diminish. I couldn't believe it! It had once again simply stopped, without any release!
As I tried to catch my heaving breath, I heard my master and several other observers, who must have re-entered the room and been watching the last few minutes, talk in low voices with him. "He's locked in, synchronized, and clearly receptive to it. You saw him just now! You needn't worry about the probe locked inside of him. He won't be able to get it out. You or anyone you choose to give the control unit to can control him by radio, anytime, anyway you desire. Here, try it yourself..." I felt my muscles once again cramp like an iron fist inside me until I felt as if I would explode inside like a bomb if I didn't get release, and began to whine.
"Yes... nice. Very nice," I heard her say, as the grip inside suddenly disappeared again. "Please master, please let me come," I heard myself say. "Yes, very nice," was her reply. "VERY nice."
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