WantedSubmitted by: email@example.com
If anyone wishes to take these themes and rewrite them with greater skill than I possess, feel free, I claim no copyright. I'm actually very keen to hear this story written with the detail and erotic power of The Fitting or Bob's Ranch. All I ask is a copy mailed to me :)
Had I have known the significance at the time, I would have savoured that last orgasm of mine, that last chance to have my cock in my hand, ejaculating into a fistful of kleenex to the fantasy of the days ahead. The things you take for granted.
Instead, that last time was more mechanical than earth shattering. Over the last few years I had been masturbating so frequently that the desire, the build-up, the release, had all become merely commonplace. The fantasy and excitement had gone. It was like I was a mere slave to biological urges, work not play. This was part of the reason I placed the ad. The other part of the reason, was life had seemed to have lost all interest. I'd been unemployed since I left college, and spent most of my time in front of the tv or the computer, counting the hours away in front of various forms of porn, and towers of empty beer cans. I'd attempted suicide more frequently than I had sex.
So one day, on a bout of inspiration, I placed the ad.
23 year old male, seeks mistress for full time enslavement. Owns chastity belt and various canes, wanting to submit total control. No safe words or superficial bondage, this is 100% submission. Mail firstname.lastname@example.org
I can't remember when it was I became so interested in submission. I remember in high school, I used to fantasise about my gym teacher caning me for trivial reasons. The very first time I ever orgasmed was after hogtying myself on my bedroom floor, and nearly passed out. The sensations were so new, I felt like my cock was both burning and overwhelmed to urinate. The feel of powerlessness, of not being free to move at will, was strong.
Movies with corporal punishment, especially british schooling punishments, have always been a strong fetish. Teachers wielding canes pushing a young boy over their desk, giving them a pants down caning in front of the class. Unfortunately, I was born too late to experience this fine art first hand.
Chastity however, was only a recent find. I accidentally came across the picture of a CB2000 one day, and was instantly intrigued. As much as I love being told what to do, forced to do things against by the will of a mistress, the idea of surrendering my very orgasms is the ultimate fantasy. To my mind there is no greater surrender, no greater devotion.
Unfortunately, my experiences with chastity have been lacklustre at best.
I spent half a year hand crafting what to my mind is the ultimate belt. I started with a steel tube, a quarter of an inch thinner and shorter than my cock in its most flaccid state. Getting into this tube requires ice and the stocking method, but is so fulfilling in the end, as my cock is not only fully prohibited erection, its actually compressed at least a little, constantly. The tube then connects to a flat steel guard, that is moulded to my pelvis. I also made sure to not allow for my testicles, so that when the shield is held in place, my testicles are forced up into my body, and my steel imprisoned cock is held down between my legs pointing backwards. The look is very femininising, as no indication of any male form is visible, merely flat steel.
The rear is similar to a g-string, with the addition of a ring positioned over my anus. This ring is covered by a noughts-and-crosses style hash of thin wires, allowing no access to my prostate, but allowing me to shit, albeit somewhat strangely. The effect is somewhat like a cheese-slicer. This mesh is attatched with its own lock, so it can be removed for prostate milking without having to free my cock.
All in all, I was impressed with my work. What was missing however, was the submission. The only thing this belt achieved was a cure for masturbation, and one that I could only hold out for two days maximum. I also found that milking myself was virtually impossible, the urge to undo the whole belt and masturbate was uncontrollable.
So having let my creation spend the last nine months in my cupboard untouched, I found myself packing it in my bags, along with my four canes, and all my clothes. Having been living in welfare housing, I didn't really have any possessions I was too attatched to. The tv was bolted to the table, my computer access came from the room down the hall. I said my goodbye to the now empty room, had my last guilt-free and unfulfilling wank, and shut the door.
Standing at the door, my heart was racing at what felt like 180 a minute. It had only been a fortnight since she had first mailed me in reply to my ad, and now after many exchanges, many prying questions, here I was, about to begin my new life as a sub.
The door opened.
I was greeted with a female of age I'd guess thirty eight, dressed in tennis whites. Her thighs immediately grabbed my attention, curvaceous and creamy white. The next thing to hit me was her penetrating stare.
- "Hey, Christina?" I asked, rhetorically of course, but I was at a loss for words.
A moment passed in silence, - "And you must be Adam. Come in."
I walked in, heart still racing, and took in the surroundings. The house had looked rather suburbian and generic on the outside, but from the inside it was immediately obvious that Christina was rich. Very rich. Extremely rich.
- "Don't mind the scenery, its just the result of a large inheritance. Money can't spend itself you see." A joke perhaps, but I witheld a laugh. I felt like my laughter would knock over some priceless vase and I'd be in debt for the next two decades paying it off.
After the initial introductions and so forth, I'd gotten to know a fair bit about Christina and been made quite welcome. After a few drinks, it had came time to discuss some kind of contract for our business.
- "I um, thought up some uh, some rules that I'll sign, and we can get this thing started." I offered.
- "Yes I suppose we need something official, these days of law suits and the such."
I took the paper out of my pocket, and gave it to her for perusal.
I, Adam Coughan, forfeit all rights and powers to my Mistress Christina. All decisions and control of all matters are from henceforth at Her discretion, be it legal, medical, financial, or otherwise.
My sole purpose is to obey the desires of my Mistress, and deviance from Her whims will result in punishment again at Her discretion. Failure to submit to punishments willingly may result in either a more severe punishment, or destruction of The Key.
The only responsibility of Mistress is to ensure death does not occur, all else will be considered fair and just. There will be no safe word. This contract will end whenever Mistress deems fit, and not before.
The Key is the possession of Mistress, and will be used in the following manner:
Once a week, at a date and time determined by Mistress, two dice shall be rolled. The resulting number shall determine the release granted to myself.
A result of 12, my belt shall be unlocked and I shall be permitted to masturbate myself to orgasm by hand. No stimuli shall be granted, and while Mistress shall be present in the room, She shall be fully clothed and take no part in the process.
A result of 11 to 7 and I shall be milked to ejaculation without orgasm in a manner determinded by Mistress.
A result of 6 to 3 and I shall be denied release of any kind, and given 20 strokes of the cane.
A result of 2 and I shall be denied release, given 50 strokes of the cane, and the dice shall not be rolled for the next 3 weeks.
I was rather proud of the contract. Writing it had taken hours, as every time I picked up my pen the thoughts of what awaited hit me, and sent me running off to the bathroom with a magazine in hand.
Mistress read the contract, and smiled at the suggestions, laughing towards the end. She took her pen and signed it. Smiling, she passed the pen to me, and I shakingly signed also.
It had begun.
I picked up my bags and brought them to where Mistress had indicated was my sleeping quarters. I went to take out my clothes, but Mistress quickly turned cold.
- "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
- "Um, Mistress, I was unpacking my clothing.."
- "You are my slave, so first things first. It is NOT your clothing. You own nothing. Second, as my slave, you are not worthy of clothing. Strip."
I paused for a second. I had to comprehend what had just happened.
- "I said STRIP! You just earned yourself 10 strokes."
I winced, and hurriedly removed my clothing. I placed my clothes and shoes in my open bag, and finally took down my boxers, my cock humbled by being displayed this way.
- ".... what the FUCK is THAT!?!?"
The question confused me, and I was at a loss for the answer she wanted. I hung my head.
- "You are a fucking slave, and you show up without your fucking belt on!?!? You have ONE minute to get locked and kneeling or you'll live to regret it."
My hands were shaking but I managed to unzip my other bag, take out the belt and stocking, and squeeze myself into it. Without ice it was a painful experience, but I dared not think how severe the pain of NOT getting into it would be.
I clicked both locks shut, presented both keys in my palms, and kneeled before Mistress.
- ".... Better. However, you've failed twice now. I think its time we took a trip downstairs."
"Downstairs" turned out to be rooms seemingly similar to the ones above ground, but these rooms were more, sterile. They lacked the lavish adornments of wealth, instead going for the glowing whiteness of a hospital. Mistress opened the second door on the right, and entered. I shuffled in behind her.
This room was large, and vacant with the exception of two items. One, the most prominent, was a large wooden horse, the kind used by gymnasts. It was noticably modified however, with leather straps on all four of its legs.
The second item, a shelf, displaying maybe a dozen canes of varying length, colour, and thicknesses.
- "Welcome to your first lesson slave. You'll be well acquainted with this room I take it, judging by your performance so far. Now, bend over it and we'll begin."
My cock was raging in its steel confinement, I could feel the blood making my crotch uncomfortably hot. I walked over humbly, and bent over the horse, arms dangling over the other side.
Mistress calmly walked around to each leg, securing my ankles and wrists down tight with the thick leather straps.
My poor heart had had enough work for one day, and this was not helping. Neither was the soft noise of Mistress' trainers on the smooth floor as she walked to the shelf. Neither was the hideous swishing the cane made as she swung it through the air, testing her swing.
- "I think you've earnt yourself, twenty five..." she said as she took her position slowly behind me and to my left.
I dared not speak a word.
While I heard the gradual rise of her arm, I didn't hear the rapid swish of the cane slicing the air, but only felt a sudden burning across my cheeks. Half a second, and this exploded into a searing heat, I felt as if my skin was shrinking. I quickly reached out with my hands to comfort my burning ass, but found them still strapped securely to the legs of the horse. The pain was unlike any I had experienced before, clearly tennis, sport of many a priviledged daughter, had given her an excellent swing. What the fuck was I doing here. I want out, NOW.
In my experiences with corporal punishment, I had never really been taken all the way. The only people I had found that could be persuaded into the act were prostitutes, and they cared more about getting paid than for domination. This fear of crossing some line that would leave them without their pay always held them back, leaving me unmarked and unfulfilled.
Now, while I was on my hands and knees in Mistress' garden, clawing out weeds one by one with a screwdriver, I was longing for those days of unfulfilment. Days when I wouldn't find myself on all fours, naked but for a steel g string, 25 glowing welts facing the 3pm sun.
Foremost though, was the thought that after every one of those canings, the most pleasurable moment was that first orgasm afterwards, where the pain and humiliation was flushed away in ecstatic glory, every nerve in my body burning with pleasure.
There was nothing I wanted more than 5 mere minutes out of this steel, fuck, 30 seconds even, the second my hand touched my raging cock it would explode.
- "Now this is a pleasant sight."
I hadn't heard Mistress appear behind me, her stealth and suddenness made me jump.
- "I just came to tell you that you'll have my dinner prepared for seven o'clock."
- "Yes Mistress." I replied, keeping my eyes steadily on her feet. I'd been here three days, and my attraction to Her had grown immensely. Maybe it was my imprisoned cock talking, but I was thinking how I'd give both my arms to spend just ten minutes with those legs wrapped around me, those ankles locked behind my back. Her creamy white thighs grinding against my hips.
- "Oh, and I've been thinking. The day after tomorrow is friday. I think friday night is a fitting time for you to remember that fucking someone you picked up in some nameless club is long in the past. We'll roll those dice at 9pm then. Now get back to your work slave."
Mistress decided that for the rolling of the dice, I should be in my proper stance, kneeling on all fours before her. This was enforced by a collar, chained to the middle of the floor in one of Her downstairs rooms by a six inch chain. I suppose She also wanted me held firmly in one place should I not approve of the result.
- "I'd imagine you've been thinking about this moment for quite some time." She said, in possibly the greatest understatement I have lived to hear.
I said nothing.
- "Well then", she said with a cunning smile, "lets get this over with."
I nervously raised my eyes, as the two red dice came bouncing down onto the floor in front of me. Time slowed, and I watched the dice bounce in slow motion, turning in chaos, in all directions.
They spun a little bit in position, and then came to rest.
A 4 and a 1.
My shoulders weakened, and my head came crashing down to the floor in defeat.
- "I'll give you an hour to think about that... which I have no doubt you will. Then you have a date with next door."
Mistress walked past me and out the door, leaving it wide open. The sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoed in my head, and I savoured them while I could. My cock, which was already raging away in anticipation, felt like it was going to attempt to break free of its steel prison. My balls made my whole lower stomach area feel bloated and uncomfortable. And all I have to look forward to is another week of suspense, and 20 strokes on my already tortured ass. My first week and I was about to have chalked up 60.
I woke to the quiet sound of my alarm, showered, then prepared Mistress' breakfast.
At nine I tapped Mistress' door, and stood beside it sternly.
Mistress opened the door with a beaming smile, and her eyes still semi closed in that sleazy just-awoken way.
She was totally naked.
- "Before you try to stammer out a question slave, what you're seeing is my idea of schadenfreude. You've been here 10 days, I thought it was time you saw a naked female. After all, I've been privy to your scrawny body for the last week and a half. And before you go getting any ideas, first, if you touch me, you'll feel 50 strokes and I'll give you the night spent over that horse to think about it. Second, you're not getting this display for free. 20 strokes before you go to bed should quell those impure thoughts of yours. "
I nodded my downturned head, keeping my eyes on her toes so not to anger Her needlessly. A fucking day with this curvaceous goddess prancing around before me, and not only do I have to bear the grinding pain in my crotch, but I have to steal glances whenever Her eyes are averted, else risk Her rage and cane respectively.
There were days the naked form was a mere couple of mouse clicks away. There were days I could spend in my leather chair, intoxicated and happy, jacking to my hearts content. Oh how times change.
- "This should make friday seem like years away for you and that little penis of yours..." Mistress called, as she walked down the hall past me, offering me an extended view of her beautiful ass, shaking side to side from her over accenuated walk.
Tears burned in my eyes, and I struggled to blink them away. I rubbed the phantom void where my erect cock would normally be now, and then began weeping openly.
For the second time since my submission, I was again kneeling on the cold white floor, chained by the neck and thinking with both apprehension and anxiety about the events of the next minute about to occur.
Mistress was openly laughing, probably thinking about her various torments and foreplays this last week, possibly just bathing in the power she now held.
Without any words or prelude, She simply dropped the dice before me. The red dice seemed even slower in their movement than last time I saw them. It felt like a full minute elapsed before they came to a rest.
A pair of 5's.
- "See you in an hour." Mistress said cryptically, and again left me alone and held to the floor. When I felt she was long enough gone, I brought my right hand down to my cock shield, and rubbed it longingly, dreaming of what was about to come.
Mistress' rooms seemed to hold an endless supply of surprises. Todays came in the form of what appeared to be two sets of stocks, one with three holes, one with two, fixed about a metre or so apart, and securely bolted to the floor. The stocks were at floor's level, and I was locked into them, holding me in a permanent kneeling on knees and elbows position, legs spread wide.
Mistress ceremoniously removed the key from her silver necklace, and removed the rear mesh shielding from my belt, placing it on the floor away from me, but where I could still see it.
- "I imagine those balls of yours would be bulging away by now, so this should be a pleasant experience.", again laughing at some personal joke. I ignored the subtleties, thinking solely of the ejaculation that awaited me.
Mistress stepped out of her heels, and sat down on the floor in front of me, reclining against the wall. What was happening?
I heard the door behind me open, and a second pair of footsteps was heard.
- "Slave, meet a friend of mine, oh don't get up." she laughed dryly. "This is Dr. Niesk, hes been with my family for 3 decades now. I didn't like the idea of giving you the pleasure of contact with me, so asked his assistance in this procedure."
- "Not a problem my dear," Dr. Niesk volunteered, snapping on a pair of gloves.
My heart sunk down into my stomach. This moment had been keeping me going all this time, and now it was being taken from me. I yearned for just the smell of her near me, and was denied even that. The last female I was ever going to see, and see was all I would ever do with her.
At that point, I felt some cold lube being squirted into and around my anus. I tensed, and then forced myself to relax somewhat. Best to make do with the situation.
- "Don't worry, you won't feel a thing." Dr. Niesk said, then laughed contently.
A painful feeling him my anus, and then I could feel some hard, slightly curved object, snake its way up my rectum. I fought strongly against tensing, focusing with all my attention on the little glimpse of thigh Mistress' dress was allowing.
Maybe two minutes had passed, and I felt an urge to piss. I thought about Mistress and her cane, and struggled to supress it. To no avail, I felt a warm trickle escape from me, which quickly ceased.
I winced at the thought of Mistress' expression, but instead felt the object withdraw from my anus. A sudden chill hit me as I realised. That was it.
I again bowed my head in defeat. That was it. My first ejaculation in two weeks, and I was denied orgasm totally. Biologically my sexual urge had lessened, but mentally, I was as strong as ever.
Mistress came from behind me and attatched my ass shield, locking it with an audible click.
- "You've got some drinking to do if you want to get out of those stocks." She said, producing a wide mouthed champagne glass, half full of my own white cum.
Adam stood on his toes, tied to a pole that Mistress had called a pillory. His arms were tied to the pole behind him, and his eyes were covered with a thick blindfold. His toes were secured to the ground, and inch long spikes faced menacingly towards his heels. This way, he was forced to remain constantly standing on his toes, a position that becomes painful after a minute, agonising after the first hour. And he still had 3 to go.
Punishment for being caught thrusting against the couch arm, trying in vain to get some form of stimuli. The belt was too good to allow any excitement or contact whatsoever, let alone an unwarrented orgasm.
Mistress Christina rolled her two dice between her thumb and forefinger, one in each hand. Laughing, she brought herself to orgasm for the third time today with her fingers. Her eyes were upon the dice in the right, the one was identical to the other, but unique. Unique in that where 6 holes should have been drilled, there was instead a second side with just 1.
Page last updated 03-Feb-28 by: Altairboy@aol.com