Chapter 4
Acute anxiety made the next four hours pass both quickly and slowly. My
usually limited imagination roamed over scenarios from the sensible to the
absurd. The abiding images involved sex. I went through the process of getting
ready, blushing frequently, the session on the bidet being especially
embarrassing. After clumsily donning the required undergarments, I finished
preparing by putting on a conservative cream colored dress. I had purchased the
dress just for this trip, so it was sleeveless, showed some upper chest, and was
just below the knee in length.
Beth arrived promptly at six. She wore a spaghetti strap low cut red
cocktail dress with matched red mesh stockings and high heels. Her face was
carefully made up, and with her lovely hair she had gone from pretty to
beautiful. She looked me over, then asked with a teasing smile, "Do you wear
your hair in a bun to bed?"
We walked through a maze of hallways. The few people we encounter
nodded or smiled, a few greeting Beth by name. With one last turn we stopped at
a locked door. Beth unlocked the door and smiled at me, saying, "I have a treat
for you."
The room was bigger than mine, and had large mirrors on three wall. It
was well lit, and the instant we entered I got one of the big shocks of my
cloistered life. There was a man kneeling atop a pedestal, wearing only a
blindfold and a black leather thong holding his genitals.
His back was arched and his knees spread far apart, held fast by a
device made of wood. It had two large boards with rounded notches, and with the
top piece fastened to the bottom, his lower legs were imprisoned between them.
His arms were down with elbows pulled back and forearms crossed behind his back.
The rope securing his forearms together was tied to a ring on the bottom board.
It was cinched down so tight that his wiry body arched like a yoga master to
accommodate the position of his arms and legs.
His position thrust his leather covered genitals up from his stretching
hips and thighs, and I had never seen such an obscene sight. I had both the
urge to pee and to rub my sex, as well as a strong impulse to vomit and run from
the room.
He cocked his head at the sound, but remained silent. After giving me a
chance to catch my breath, Beth spoke. "How is my little slave boy, are you
comfortable?"
Turning his head in our direction he responded, "I am as comfortable as
my mistress wishes me to be."
Beth watched my expression as she said, "Jerry is my slave. You may
call him by either name, Jerry or slave, for tonight you are also his mistress."
Turning back to the bound young man, she said, "Introduce yourself to Mistress
Jan, slave boy."
Sounding a little like a talking puppy, he said, "I am slave Jerry. I
belong to Mistress Beth, and tonight you are also my mistress. I beg you to use
me in any way that will amuse you and give you pleasure."
Beth took my arm and half dragged me forward, my face blushing and my
body reluctant to get any closer. I stifled the urge to turn my head away as
Beth reached out and pulled the black leather thong from his loins, dropping it
on the floor. I almost fainted at the sight of his big penis and scrotum. This
was the first time I had ever been close to male sex organs in the flesh.
My embarrassment escalated steadily as Beth reached out her right hand
and softly cupped his hanging testicles. He moaned softly as her fingers worked
gently to move the egg shapes inside the wrinkled bag of skin. I watched as his
penis began to thicken and rise, growing longer as it grew straight.
The venom of hate and distrust gleaned from my mother's lips swirled in
me. I wanted to flee, then I wanted to lash out at these organs the male
oppressors took such pride in. I wanted to take revenge on the rapist who
traumatized my mother, leaving me in her womb and hatred for men in her heart.
Did I also want to touch them, to feel the growing shaft of flesh within
me? If not, why was I feeling the stirring in my sex, the wetness staining my
panties? Anxiety born of confusion made me grow weak in the knees.
It was hard to grasp that this delightful woman beside me was touching
his organs with no trace of repugnance. Since he was her 'slave,' perhaps her
dominance explained it. She could control and dominate, even hurt him if she
chose. This last thought sent a jolt of electricity through my groin, bringing
images from the dark recesses of my secret fantasy life. Not even my therapist
knew that I had persistent shameful fantasies which involved tormenting naked
men, or being tormented by them.
Here was a scene beyond the wildest of my fantasies, a living breathing
man, his sex organs thrust from his pelvis over the edge of the pedestal just
inches away, and helpless to resist anything we desired. Great pleasure or
excruciating pain, the power to choose was in the hands of women.
Beth released his scrotum and stepped up to take off his blindfold.
Jerry blinked at the light, then craned his head up to look at us. I blushed
yet again, feeling guilty for my thoughts. Beth moved back beside me and put
her arm around my shoulder. We both looked at the halfway erect organ as she
said, "My little slave boy has a nice cock, don't you think?" Without waiting
for a reply she went on, "By the way, do not refer to his prick as a weenie,
thing, or any other modest term from your childhood. From now on a penis is
called cock, prick, dick, meat pole or other term employed by adults. The same
idea applies to his balls and asshole. Ditto for us. We have pussies, cunts,
snatches, gashes, clits, tits, . . .you get the idea.
"Our schedule allow us another hour and a half with slave boy here. We
can do all sorts of delicious things in that much time. If he behaves we might
let the little worm have an orgasm before we are done with him, but then maybe
not. It helps torment him to look at naked women he can't touch, so I think
I'll get out of these clothes. You would like that wouldn't you Jerry?"
"Oh, yes mistress, it will help me get ready for your pleasure if you
let me see your beauty."
Beth stepped back a few paces and I followed. With slow and sensuous
movements she reached behind her back, unzipped her dress, then pulled the thin
straps off her shoulders and slid the dress to the floor. She stepped away from
it, now in strapless bra, a skimpy thong, thigh high stocking that needed no
support, and high heels. Reaching back again she unsnapped her bra, letting it
slip off her pink nippled breasts. Her nipples were thick and long, seeming too
large for the size of her aureole, which were about two inches across and puffed
out slightly from the creamy surface of melon shaped mounds the size of ripe
grapefruit.
I was surprised when she slowly drew the thong down her legs to see that
her pussy was devoid of hair, with just a light thatch of auburn curls in a
small pelt above her pubic bone.
When she stepped out of the thong she stretched like a cat, raising her
arms slowly over her head as she smiled seductively. "Feel free to join me,"
she said to me. Then to Jerry she added, "You would like that wouldn't you
slave boy?"
"Oh, yes mistress. Mistress Jan, please undress for me."
Now confronted with two naked bodies and the odor of arousal in the air,
I became so flustered I simply froze. Beth merely shrugged and turned back to
Jerry, stepping in front of him.
She said, "Naughty slave boy, I didn't give you permission to make a
request of Mistress Jan. Now you have upset her. You see, Mistress Jan has a
problem with worms like you. She grew up angry and distrustful of people with
cocks and balls, and justifiably so. Now what do you think we should do about
that?"
Jerry looked down as far as his contorted position would allow, and
replied, "I have misbehaved, mistress. I am truly sorry for offending each of
you, and I deserve to be severely punished. Please join in my punishment,
Mistress Jan. I offer my body for your pleasure to atone for the wrongs my sex
has done." There was a spreading wetness in my groin as I imagined acting out on
his invitation, but it was all just too overwhelming for me.
Beth reached out and grasped the now stiff cock in her hand and began
slowly jacking him off, reaching out with her other hand to massage his balls.
Jerry began to whimper softly, and Beth asked him how long it had been since he
had been permitted an orgasm. Three days was the answer. She said, "Then we
want to be very careful, don't we slave? It would be unfortunate if you came
without permission, so you will tell me when you are getting close, won't you."
"Yes, mistress," he responded. My stomach turned over as Beth went down
on one knee and began licking the head and shaft of his prick, starting by
licking off the fluid than had been leaking from the slit at the end. She was
soon taking most of it into her mouth, moving her head up and down with a
rhythmic motion. His hips started thrusting the short distance allowed by his
already out thrust posture, and after a few breathless moans he said, "I am
about to come, mistress. Please let me come."
She stood up abruptly and moved behind the platform, angrily saying,
"Presumptuous worm, you will regret asking me to give you pleasure before it
pleases me." Beth returned with what looked like a leather shoelace, and a thin
stick resembling the baton used by music conductors. Jerry's prick stood ramrod
stiff as his eyes follow the objects in Beth's hands, and my urge to get my hand
on my sex was almost overpowering.
Beth motioned to me, holding the baton out in invitation. I still
couldn't get my body to respond, so she shrugged and put it down on the edge of
the pedestal. The leather cord had a loop in one end, and she placed this just
below the flair of his cock head, cinching it tight at the top of his sensitive
glands. He stiffened when she yanked on the loose end, but made no sound. Beth
held the end of the cord in her left hand as she reached up and grabbed Jerry by
the hair, roughly pulling his head as far forward as it would go. Lifting the
cord end to his head, she said, "Hold this in your teeth, slave, and don't so
much as let it slip till you have received ten strokes from me and ten from
Mistress Jan."
She pulled up on the cord until his penis stretched tight against his
belly, then offered the loose end to his mouth. He bit down on the cord,
straining to hold his head bent down when she let go of his hair. Any
relaxation of his neck muscles would only cause more stretching and pain in his
prick. Beth picked up the baton, and with slow deliberation she stepped to the
side, flexing the baton between her hands. She swished it through the air a few
times, then took aim by holding the rod near the back of his cock, finally
swinging her arm back and bringing the rod against the middle of his sensate
shaft.
Jerry's body jerked, but he held the cord tight in his clenched jaws,
able to make only a long squealing noise. My pussy was gushing by this time.
My body was immobile, but my cunt had a mind of its own.
Her blows rained up and down the tender underside of his cock. When the
tenth had fallen she turned to me and again offered the whip. I wanted to take
it and lash it against the swollen meat shaft as hard as I could, but I just
couldn't work up the courage.
Beth was beginning to look concerned with this latest refusal on my
part, and for the first time tried persuasion, "You know this is turning you on,
and I know you would like to take out some pent up anger on anything wearing a
cock. You're here to break out of your do nothing rut, and you'll never get a
better chance. Besides, slave boy here likes it."
I could not even find the nerve to reply, causing Beth to shake her head
in frustration. She undid the knot around his cock, and when she turned it
loose it bobbed before him, stiffer than ever. Opening the noose, Beth passed
it around the bottom of his ball sack, drawing it up tight against his groin.
Again she cinched it tight, making his scrotum bulge into the shape of an orange
when she tugged the loop down. The loop could slide no further, as his
testicles formed a barrier where they lodged in the bottom of his skin bag.
She held the end out to me, this time determined to out wait my reserve.
I finally edged forward enough to take the cord in my hand, as she said, "Since
you can't seem to overcome your inhibitions, I'm going to give you a simple job.
I want to give slave boy a mind blower of an orgasm after he gives a good one to
me. When I'm finished with his mouth, I will give him a real blow job. Your
task is to pull the cord whenever he starts moaning or thrusting his hips. That
will stop his orgasm while I continue sucking without interruption. When he's
really ready to pop, I'll give you a hand signal and you stop pulling, but
remember, use that ball stretcher till I signal. I suggest you do some easy
practice while I get tongue fucked."
Beth mounted the pedestal and backed up over his face, spreading her
legs wide and squatting down. Her buttocks were spread before me, showing me
the crinkled bud of her anus. I couldn't make the mental adjustment required to
participate in the events before me. I just stood with the cord dangling from
my fingers as I watched her riding his face, grinding her crotch against his
mouth and darting tongue. She started thrashing about, losing her tempo as
little yelps came from her mouth. I had never seen a woman orgasm before, and
it left me weak in the knees, wishing I could jump up there for some of the same
treatment.
She stood up and stretched, leaving Jerry's face covered with her
secretions. His hard on was still in place as she resumed licking, stroking and
sucking. After all he had been through, it was with amazement that I watched
him go into a convulsive climax before I could begin to work up enough resolve
to pull on the cord.
