BDSM Library - Julie's Prenuptials

Julie's Prenuptials

by Aiken

****

Dan jumped out of bed at 6:00 A.M. feeling sore from a short night's sleep. His groin felt particularly tender for some reason. Neglect perhaps. Streaming his morning's urine into the toilet he stared down at the chastity cage and wondered how he'd made it this far, 14 days without coitus, and 14 full days without masturbation either. For a 28-year-old man who until recently had been getting regular sex and much more than regular masturbation, it surprised him that two weeks without shooting sperm had not driven him insane.

"I can't even get a decent hard-on inside this thing," he complained idly to himself as he stepped into the shower, "14 days... I wonder how many hours that comes out to?"

Deciding he didn't want to know, he soaped up his body under the hot water and worked the lather into the small openings that honeycombed his cock cage. He preferred to dwell on the sweet reward his fiancée had promised for today. On his 14th day of chastity Julie offered him something very special, something that would give him a "real rush." That sounded very good to a man whose love diet had been declared sex-free and whose penis was even denied the pleasure to sport an honest woody.

Dan's piss hard-ons were a matter of the past also. Early in the morning he could feel his meat bunching up in its plastic confines, trying in vain to become erect. When soft, his three-inch penis fit precisely inside the three-inch channel of his chastity. At the first moment of arousal his round glans butted the end of its barricade, harmlessly stopped from any advancement. His organ attempted to swell in thickness instead, consuming the only space available to it. The cage was nearly twice the width of his flaccid penis, so there was a fair amount of room for expansion sideways, but it was pathetic compensation for a dick yearning to elongate to its full six inches. Dan's far-from-hard morning erections were often accompanied by frustrating thoughts and vaguely erotic dreams.

One of those dreams had been weird. It arrived on his fifth night of chastity, and the memory of it still bothered him.

Dan saw Julie touching his locked-up cock. She was smiling, wearing a black leather miniskirt and lots of red lip-gloss. Her brunette hair was elegantly coifed. She cupped his apparatus in her hand, measuring its weight and enjoying the way it looked in bondage.

"I really like seeing you this way," Julie said with a loving gleam in her eye, "Do you approve of me also?"

She pulled open her short leather jacket to reveal a series of malevolent knives arrayed in little pouches in her jacket lining - all different sizes from small scalpels to large combat blades. He awoke in a cold sweat after that vision.

Following his regular routine Dan dried himself off after his shower and got a drink of water. He stepped into a pair of white silk boxer shorts and sat at his computer desk to see if Julie had sent him any new instructions. Her emails would be sent in the evenings, after he emailed her his nightly journals. But he wasn't allowed to access her replies until 6:30 the next morning. Her mails included daemons notifying the sender precisely when the recipient downloaded them for reading. He was allowed three minutes of leeway before and after 6:30. If the delivery receipts didn't fall within those times Dan faced lessons far more difficult than mere sexual abstinence.

He was late one morning during his first few days of chastity. Julie's punishment was to have him lodge a Q-tip in the eye of his cock and screw himself that way for five full minutes. She had him push it in about two inches deep and pump it back and forth very slowly, using Vaseline for lubrication. All the while his penis remained trapped in its cage. She monitored his humiliation via live web-cam, so there would be no cheating. Julie warned him that the next time he missed his mail call, he'd get a ten-minute-long screwing with peppermint oil instead of Vaseline. He'd learned his lesson about being on time with her mails. She warned him about being late with his 9 P.M. journals also, but he'd been prompt with those so far.

Dan now realized how serious his fiancée was about her prenuptial demands. She was determined to fully test his love. His long-held desires to be married to a dominant woman had to be real, not just a blithe fantasy.

"I've had it with guys who dream of serving a life-style domme," Julie wrote in a recent mail, "but don't have the guts or dedication to put out. I'm for real. That's why I require 6 months of real obedience from you before we get married. Obedience starts with complete control over your penis and balls, but includes other tests too -anything I say in fact. If you are a true submissive and love me properly, you will be able to do that. And if you're not, we'll know, won't we?"

Dan was hooked from the beginning. He adored Julie. While dating her for several months, he remained fascinated with her approach to life and sexuality. He'd never been dominated, except by the rare $200 call girl. Those experiences had been fun, but unfulfilling. He felt like he was choosing treats from a restaurant menu. Then a friend of his who understood what he was looking for introduced him to Julie at a party in Georgetown. Julie gave him her phone number and he'd been dating her ever since.

Julie had never dommed Dan during their courtship, but she talked about dominating men all the time. Her stories intoxicated him. Their sex was fun, wild and often. And she was always in control. If she wasn't on top screwing him firmly and rubbing her fingers around in his hair or invading his lips, she was reclining and giving him orders for exactly how to lick her pussy. It was always him pleasing her, and he found that he really enjoyed it. She never hurt him. She never got any kinkier than bossy sex either, but he soon realized he didn't want their relationship to ever end.

When he presented her a ring and proposed marriage on bended knee, he was terrified she would say no, but her first response floored him.

She was ambivalent.

"Not unless you can really handle me..." she said after a long pause and a deep kiss, "Right now you assume you'd like being married to me. And who knows, maybe you would. But I can't be sure, because so far you've been thinking of me mostly with your dick."

"What do you mean," he asked, wondering if this was a prelude to a brush off.

"Well, your penis knows it is very attracted to my body," she replied, "You know, the sex is very good."

"It absolutely is," he agreed, smiling.

"And your penis likes my domineering attitude also," she added, "So it likes my mind."

"Of course it does," he said, confused by the direction she was going, "Well, I mean... I do."

"No. Your dick does," she corrected him, laying a long red fingernail gently across his lips, "I see it twitch every time I order you to do favors for me. And it leaps for joy whenever I tell you stories about the nasty ideas I'm thinking about - or the naughty games I've played with all my other lovers."

Dan nodded his agreement. "Yes, but you've never done any of those things to me."

"So far I haven't," she said, "But if we start looking at marriage I will. I'll need to."

That's when it started. Julie accepted Dan's engagement ring. And he agreed to her terms of a six-month submission test. A week later his cock was locked away and he was under her daily control. Since that Saturday morning two weeks ago he had only seen his girlfriend four times, for lunch each Tuesday, and dinner both Friday nights. All four times she'd looked fabulous and driven him crazy with lust, but she refused to go to his apartment, or allow him to come home with her afterwards. One of those Fridays they did some dancing, and that was their only physical contact in 14 days, aside from holding hands and a few brief kisses.

These were strictly dinner dates. During the meals nothing was said about Dan's predicament or their strange new relationship. In fact he was not allowed to bring up those issues, or beg for sexual favors, or Julie would cancel her next get-together with him. It was strange to Dan that they had gone from a very active sexual relationship to something like this. His path to marital bliss seemed to be taking him through a bizarre landscape devoid of sex, and bristling with Julie's intricate sets of rules and dangerous consequences. But horny as he was, and starved for the physical affections he'd been used to, his mind still swam in his desire for her, and his eagerness to please her fully.

Dan logged on to his internet provider, glanced at his watch and made sure it was 6:30 sharp before clicking on the button to receive his latest mails.

Julie's new message popped onto the computer screen, dated 10:22 the previous evening.

"Good morning, dan. Have you been a good boy for Me? I thought about you just now and masturbated. I came very hard, three times I think, or maybe it was four. Thanks for that. I hope you had some more sexy dreams about Me last night. I really enjoyed dinner with you by the way, and our slow dance was very nice. But you must quit giving Me that look. you know, the look that says... "Please, let my penis have some fun."

Other than that you were a pure gentleman. you didn't grab My butt, or maul Me at all during our good night kiss, either. you're doing much better.

It's been 14 days, and I'll bet you haven't forgotten My promise. I sure haven't. Are you ready for some fun, slave? I am. I sent you a package by courier during the night. It should be in the mail drop at your front door by now. Go get My package, but don't open it. Take care of any personal business you may have and be ready to spend a long delicious morning with Me. you may call Me on the telephone at 9 A.M.

Love and XXXX, Julie"

9:00 A.M.

"Hello slave."

"Hello, Mistress."

"Did you have that knife dream again?"

"No, Mistress."

Dan wished she would stop bringing up that dream. He'd written about it in his journal after all, but he was trying to forget it.

"I've studied the symbolism behind it," she said proudly, "It means you're afraid of me taking away your manhood. You know... castration, that kind of stuff."

"I assumed the dream stood for castration."

"But it doesn't."

"Didn't you just say that it did?"

"No. You should listen better. I said it represented your fear of it."

"Oh..."

"But that's good. Fear is good. Did you have any nocturnal emissions last night, slave?"

"No, Ma'am."

"What about those 'thick-ons' you get when you need to pee. Did you have any of them?"

"Yes, Mistress. I had one of those."

"Very good. Did it hurt you?

"No, Mistress," he said, "But I wouldn't have minded much if it had. At this point I'm desperate to feel anything at all down there."

"That's wonderful," she said. Her smile could be clearly felt through the telephone. "We'll give you more to think about very soon. Open the package, please."

Dan tore open the large lumpy envelope, and found several items inside.

"Let's take inventory, shall we?" she said, "And remember to be respectful of my thoughtfulness. There are two plastic refrigerator memo clips with magnets attached to them. Also a spool of nylon cord and scissors."

"Yes, thank you, Mistress."

"Good. Lay them aside. Do you find the leather slave collar, and steel handcuffs, slave?"

"Yes, thank you Mistress." Dan said with his pulse quickening. They were in uncharted territory now. She had never collared him, or placed anything unusual on his body except for the infernal cock cage.

"Last but not least, there's a white plastic plug-shaped item, and a tube of gel lubricant. Do you see those?"

"Yes, thank you Mistress."

"We're ready to get started then. As I've told you we are going to toast your two-week milestone today. You've made a few mistakes of course, but you paid for those. For a new slave you've shown fair progress. Overall, your performance has pleased me. That is what we are celebrating today. You are also rising to the next level of dedication to me. Please take all my gifts and go to the coffee table of your living room. Switch your phone over to speakerphone so you won't have to hold it to your ear. Get naked and kneel at one end of the table."

Dan arrived there in an instant. Not too much clothing to remove, just his boxer shorts. He knelt in front of the large wood-trimmed steel-topped coffee table. He was excited and scared all at the same time.

"I'm ready, Mistress."

"Did you have a bowel movement this morning, slave? And have you emptied your bladder recently?"

"Yes, Mistress. I've done those things."

"And is your coffee table completely clear of any objects?"

Dan grabbed a small plant and a stack of books and moved them to a nearby shelf. "Yes. It is now, Ma'am."

"Let's begin. I want you to knot the free end of the cord to the tip of your cock cage. Then run the cord spool under the table, up over the top of the far end of the table, and bring it back to your end and lay the spool down on the table. Let me know when you've completed this."

"I've done it, Mistress."

"Good. What you're going to do now you probably won't like at all. The path I'm taking you on will be painful and rather miserable too, but you must trust me completely. Are you ready for a challenge, slave?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Place the two clamps on your nipples. Do it quickly and firmly. Going slowly only makes them hurt worse. Crouch down on your knees near the edge of the table so your chest rests against the table's upper lip. Now I want you to measure enough cord from that spool to run through the magnets of each of your nipple clamps, with an extra foot or so of cord past the second magnet. Cut the cord with the scissors at that point, and then toss the scissors and remaining cord spool away onto the floor."

Dan followed her instructions. The clamps hurt like hell. They must have been designed to hold very heavy weights because they had a ferocious grip. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to cope with the brimstone in his chest. He was hoping the feeling would fade, but it didn't. He was fumbling with the string, cursing softly beneath his breath.

"Compose yourself, slave," she said firmly, sensing his distress, "I've told you this part would be hard. Proceed with my orders, and just measure and cut the string. Don't do anything else with it yet."

"I've done it," he said between clenched teeth.

"Now I want you to run that string through the magnets. You'll find a place to do that. You'll be tying the free end into a knot with the main part of the string soon. Our final result should be a yoke tugging hard at your nipple clamps above the table as well as your chastity beneath the table. But don't make any knots yet."

Dan found a small steel eyelet at the back of each magnet to run the cord through. He slid the cord's loose end through both magnets and took the slack out of the string going back to far edge of the tabletop.

"I've done as you asked, Mistress," he said stifling a groan.

"Listen to me closely. You only have one chance to get this right. I want it done as perfectly as if I were standing right behind you. Brace your chest against the edge of the table, your chest just under the nipples I mean. Snap the two magnets down against the table top right near the edge. Now I want you to get the string tension as tight as you can before knotting the yoke. I don't want you leaning out over the table. Not a bit. Only your nipples are supposed to do that. Remember to use the two magnets to provide extra tension, by scooting them forward. They'll help you in the pulling process. Pretend you've got some real titties stretched out there on the table for me, and make the tension as hard as you can stand it. Then tie the loose end into a knot that will keep them like that."

This part was very difficult. Dan's nipples were in hell just from the bite of the clamps and the weight of the magnets dangling from them. But with the magnets stuck to the steel tabletop, the clamps exerted an entirely different flavor of pain. Each breath applied fresh pressure and movement against the pull of nylon cord and ferrite. He thought about cheating and barely tensioning his nipples with the string, but he was afraid Julie would know somehow. He pulled once, and groaned a little bit. He tugged again, biting his lips. Sweat was rolling into his face. He realized he was panting.

"I can tell you are working hard, my dear," she said, suddenly sweet. "Keep pulling until you can feel your balls ache, love. The more you pull the hotter you're going to make me, and the harder I'll want you to pull."

"Oh, God, Mistress..." Dan said, almost nauseous from the pressure, "I think I've got it now. I've just tied the knot. But Mistress, I don't know if I can take this for more than a few minutes."

"I'll be the judge of that," she said, "Now pick up the handcuffs and place them on your wrists in the back."

"But... but Mistress," he said, his agony suddenly compounded by fear, "I don't see the keys anywhere."

"What did you say, slave?" she said sharply, "I just gave you an order. Are you arguing with me?"

"No Ma'am. I'm sorry, Mistress"

Dan took the handcuffs and placed them over his wrists, snapping them together in back. Now he was in a real fix. Would he have to remain like this until the maid came in on Monday morning?

"I think I heard the cuffs going over your wrists just now, slave. Is that correct?"

"Yes Ma'am," he replied, "I've connected them in back as you told me to do."

"Excellent... Is everything just as I requested? Clamps tight? Cuffs tight? Nipple cord stretched like a guitar string?"

"Yes," he said, in obvious distress.

"I have a question to ask you then. How are you feeling right now?"

"Helpless, Ma'am," he said, "My nipples and balls ache like murder. I'm scared too. I don't know how I'm supposed to get out now. I sure hope you do."

"Are you sweating, slave?"

"I'm sweating a lot, Mistress. It's going down my back, it's in my eyes. Everywhere."

"Good. Very good," she said, "A man should always sweat when he's in a suitable amount of pain."

Just then Dan heard a click coming from his entrance hallway. He watched his front door swing open, and saw Julie walk in carrying her tiny cell-phone, her large purse and her huge lipstick-covered smile. She looked amazing. She was wearing a tight silk top, shining beige spandex pantyhose and a tartan skirt, short enough to show off a mile of sleek leg. But her shoes were the most incredible of all. They were ones he'd never seen her wear before -extremely tall sling-backs in black patent leather with very thin metal-tipped heels. They were dangerously sexy. For a moment he felt relieved and managed a smile. She was here to rescue him after all. He wasn't alone, as he'd thought, doomed to suffer in bondage all weekend. Then he remembered his torments again, and felt the urge to beg her for release. Somehow he knew that would only make her angry, so he kept forcing his smile and being good.

"Perhaps she'll see how bravely I'm taking this so far," he hoped desperately to himself, "And free me."

"Hello, slave," she said nonchalantly, setting down her purse. "Having fun?"

"Yes Ma'am," he replied quickly, "As long as you are having fun."

"That's very sweet dear. But I'm not sure you're being entirely honest with me."

Julie turned on her sky-high heels and walked into the kitchen.

"This was supposed to be your fun day, wasn't it?" she called out to him, "Your reward day? You don't look like a man who is getting much of a reward to me."

"Well, no Ma'am, I guess not," Dan replied, trying to think past his predicament and survive this verbal chess game of hers. If he dared complain she could simply make matters worse. He sensed that somehow. But his acting courageous had been a disaster anyway. She was teasing him now; suddenly he wasn't being honest with her about his pain. He was stuck either way, so maybe he had nothing to lose.

"I guess I'm sort of hoping it will get better soon, Mistress."

"Get better, slave?" she said, walking sexily back into the living room. She was holding a mixing bowl in her hand and a puzzled look on her face.

"Um, no Ma'am. I'm sorry. I meant that... maybe you would make it better for me."

"Oh, I see. That kind of makes sense. Well, there are several paths we can take to making it better."

She took the mixing bowl and positioned it on the carpet under his chastised, outstretched cock and balls. "One way involves allowing you to shoot your sperm, but all of the other ways don't. Do you have any preference about which way we choose?

"Um, not too much, Ma'am"

Dan was in a dead panic. He could barely think with the fireworks in his torso and groin, yet Julie seemed to expect a normal conversation out of him, as if they were strolling down the boardwalk. He desperately wished he could find words that wouldn't dig himself a deeper hole, but those didn't seem to be available. He merely wanted the punishment to end. Yet stopping it had to be on her terms, not his. He was sure of that much at least.

"Stop being evasive and answer me, Dan," she said abruptly. She held his chin firmly and tipped her face toward his, "You're pissing me off. Tell me your desires clearly. Do you want me to release your sperm or not?"

"Yes Mistress. I do. I've been wanting you... needing it such a long time."

"Finally, we're getting somewhere," she said, reaching into her purse and pulling out some latex gloves, "You must have sperm poisoning of the brain. It's forcing you to think in single syllables."

Julie stretched the gloves onto her hands and picked up the oddly shaped white plug Dan had unpacked earlier. "This is called the Aneros prostate massager. It's for milking the nasty sperm right out of a man. And believe me, it is highly efficient at doing that."

She took the tube of lubrication gel and applied it generously around the device. She crouched behind her lover and massaged some more of the gel into his clenched asshole.

"Relax honey, and this will go much more easily," she said, patting his butt. She introduced the narrow tip of the plug to his anus. "Just you wait. The Aneros is anatomically designed to touch you where nothing has touched you before."

When the Aneros was fully inserted, Julie snapped off her gloves and dropped them into a nearby wastebasket. She picked up the leather slave collar from the carpet.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she smiled, buckling the collar around his neck "Your official collar. Have you looked at it closely yet? It has "I Am Julie's Slave" stitched on the outside of it. Isn't that sweet? You'll get to wear this every weekend from now on, from Friday evenings until Monday mornings. Aren't I generous?"

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Ma'am." Dan could feel the device in his ass careening curiously, guided by his own sphincter contractions and initiating a response all by itself. He felt like he needed to shit for a moment. Then it was like he needed to come, or piss, he wasn't sure. The feelings seemed to be alternating. He couldn't figure out what was happening.

"Feeling anything yet, slave?" she asked, looking into the bowl, "Why, look at that ... your cock is already dumping out loads of sperm. I forgot how fast the massager works. How does it feel, slave?"

"It feels strange, Ma'am. It's like I'm urinating ... only it's much more intense." Dan closed his eyes. Ropey strings of his seminal fluid continued to drip from his softened penis into the mixing bowl.

"Does it feel good, slave?" she asked enthusiastically, "Does it feel like sex? Tell me everything."

"No, not exactly, Ma'am," he said, "It's more like I'm shitting through my dick, or, maybe pissing out my ass. It's hard to explain. It doesn't feel bad exactly, but it's not pleasant either...."

"Well, you're still coming nicely down here," she marveled, "I had no idea what a stud you were. This is my present to you, Dan. Keep on enjoying yourself for as long as you like. Meanwhile, I'm going to do some of what I enjoy doing."

Moving carefully on her heels, Julie climbed up onto the coffee table. She straddled the nipple cord and stood directly in front of Dan. His face was absorbed by internal struggles, contorted by a flood of sensation from his nipples, colon and urinary tract.

She plucked the nipple cord lightly with her fingers. Dan's eyes shot open in alarm.

"Yes. Pain," she concluded. "That's very good."

"I'm quite proud of you, you know," she whispered smiling, "You pulled on your nipple cord much tighter than I thought you would, especially for your first go-round. And I was prepared to punish you for doing a sloppy job with your nipple stretching, especially since I was tempting you to trick me. But you didn't deceive. This is the work of a promising submissive."

Placing one hand on top of Dan's head for stability, Julie lifted one foot slowly into the air and raked her shoe along the nipple cord for several inches, capturing the string in the extreme arch of her high heel. Dan could feel the friction of her shoe leather rasping along the nylon cord and vibrating into his nipples. He groaned aloud.

"Don't be afraid to moan and cry out, slave. That's what I'm looking for. I adore it when my slaves make noises."

Still holding his head for balance Julie took the same shoe and stroked it lightly down Dan's chest and along his arms. She scraped little semicircles above his outstretched nipples and zig-zags across his chest with the dagger-like heel tip. She applied the scratchy front edges of her narrowly pointed toe also. Everywhere her shoe grazed Dan's flesh it left red, narrowly welted tracks.

"Aren't my new shoes marvelous?" Julie asked him, gripping his hair tightly. He surrendered his head into her fist, moaning anew with pain, or was it passion?

"I love my little fetish swords," she mused, marking Dan further, playing lazy tic-tac-toe upon his flesh, "I'm so happy you seem turned on by them too. Almost nothing compares to my love for high heels. Unless it's the way I love to torture nipples. I guess I should have warned you about that one, shouldn't I? To me nipple torture really is the best pleasure of all. You will come to expect quite a lot of it from me in the months ahead."

Julie's footwear finally found its way down to Dan's nipples. With the front of her shoe she gently kneaded him just above the places where her wicked clamps were perched. She applied firmer pressure there with the points of her toes, testing the waters of his endurance, slowly mashing the meat behind his clamped nipples down, down into the tabletop.

Dan sobbed aloud for the first time.

"A real nipple sob," she thought proudly to herself, "His very first."

She switched feet and assaulted his nipples again in the same patient way, bearing down on him at first with little measured taps, followed by good solid squashings. By now Dan's breasts hurt so badly he didn't know what to do. He couldn't remember what planet he was on. But he had to remain physically still at all costs, so he cried instead. He didn't realize he was weeping at first, but the emotion seemed to help him, so he let it go. Salty tears joined the rivulets of sweat dripping from his brow and chin.

"This is good," Julie said aloud, in cadence with her rhythmic shoe palpations, "This is good... this is good."

"Uhhhhhuhhh," he responded, his mind fogbound by her tortures.

"Perhaps you are agreeing with me, slave. Or not. Either way, you are making me very hot."

Mistress Julie turned around and bent her knees slightly, presenting her ass to Dan's face. She flipped up her skirt and reached behind herself to give Dan's face some wake-up swats.

"Pay attention, slave. Come out of yourself and think about your Mistress for a change. I want you to kiss my tushie now. It's been two long weeks since you've had your face in my honey pot, and I've missed you terribly."

The lustrous pantyhose Julie wore were the crotchless variety, sans panties. She leaned farther forward and braced her fingertips against the table, her fragrant pussy now fully available to Dan's mouth and tongue. He lapped at her juices with all his strength.

"Ooohh, keep licking, slave. Keep that nose jammed up my asshole too. I feel it in there and it feels great."

Dan obeyed as best he could. Tilting his chin upward and moving his tongue in unison with her undulating hips added another measure of suffering to his nipples and balls. But he couldn't afford to think about that. He dared not refuse his Mistress, nor surrender a half-hearted performance.

Julie worked out and kept her body very fit and flexible. She was surprisingly comfortable in her inverted jackknife position, and Dan's energetic mouth was hitting the spot. Her comfort rapidly became ecstasy. Her ass waggled unceremoniously with pure pleasure until she exploded noisily.

"Yes! Eat me, you pain slut. Make me cum you dirty man-whore!"

Dan kept up his efforts. He continued to feel random contractions in his ass and indistinct wetness in his loins, but it didn't matter. All he existed for now was to eat Mistress pussy. In a way her latest demands were helping him, by distracting him from his other problems. But in the back of his mind there was hope also, the inarticulate knowledge that if he could please her enough, it would help negotiate his release from this misery.

Julie was now ready for the main course.

As Dan continued applying his mouth to Julie's pleasure, she silently stepped one foot backward toward him. Then her other foot went the same direction. Both shoes were rocked forward, allowing her weight to be distributed between the toes of her feet and her hands stretched out in front. Now her heels, those indelicate stilettos of Julie's love, held Dan in exquisite danger. Though unknown to him, they were perched directly above his defenseless nipples.

As Julie ascended to another climax she gently rocked her feet backwards. In her bent-over position she couldn't quite see where her heels were going, so she guided herself by feel. In a moment her slave's jaw jerked urgently against her pussy, and a muffled cry came out of him, confirming her aim.

"Contact..." she thought deliciously.

"Keep eating me, slave!" her upside-down face demanded.

Julie pressed a little harder on her heels and felt another peal of protest, shouted into her wet folds. At the same time she flexed her knees some more, driving her sex more sternly into Dan's mouth. He continued to lap at her juices like a man possessed.

Easing up her heel pressure slightly, Julie began playing the hokey-pokey, twisting her narrow feet slowly from side to side, mauling God knows what. She considered the heart-wrenching noises coming from her slave now, wailed into the sanctuary of her throbbing nates. To Julie they sounded like two parts anger, two parts grief and perhaps a slice of all-hope-is-lost.

"Every bit of it is submission," she exulted privately, "or he wouldn't be kneeling here taking this, and eating me out so nicely. For just two short weeks, Dan submits to me quite beautifully."

Julie soaked up another spasm of joy, before driving her heels southward again, back toward Dan's bruised breasts, to give him yet one more dose of uncompromising dominance, and her one more glorious orgasm for the road.

"He might turn into a good prospect after all." she thought, "If he makes it six months, he'll deserve my love as no man ever has."

finis

Julie's Prenuptials

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