© 2004 Lance Edwards
I don’t know if she knows this, but I left those
streaks on the mirror deliberately.
Granted, it’s hard to perfectly clean an eight by
twelve-foot mirror, especially when it’s bolted to the ceiling over an enormous
waterbed. And the fact that it’s beveled to magnify the reflection makes any
tiny imperfection that much easier to spot. Actually, I was counting on both of
these convenient facts to both imperfectly mask and yet still draw attention to
my purposeful, contemptible failure.
I knew that when she saw it Goddess Katia would be
quick to punish me. Yet I also knew – or at least I hoped – that after that
terrible ordeal she would follow her usual pattern and fuck me
extra-vigorously: to show that she still loved me, and that all was at last
forgiven. I’ve been waiting in heart-throbbing suspense for at least two hours
now to see if my brazen (or maybe foolhardy) gambit pays off.
Of course, Goddess fucks me every day (and night)
without fail. Even after almost ten years together she never tires of our
admittedly bizarre marital relations. But after our punishment sessions her fucking
is always so extreme and extravagant (probably because punishing me turns her
on so much) that I always feel as if I’ve finally died and gone to our own
special understanding of heaven, where serving my glorious Goddess in an
infinitely agonizing, yet eternally abject adoration will be my final,
well-deserved reward.
But first, of course, comes the punishment. When
Goddess saw those two thin streaks on her supremely important above-the-bed
mirror (one tiny flaw in my otherwise faultlessly meticulous daily cleaning of
her incredibly opulent mansion) she rather unconvincingly feigned outrage.
Pissed off or not, Goddess still never passes up any opportunity to discipline
my slightest, even imagined error. This time she immediately ordered me to
strip, and to precede her to her elaborate underworld.
Once down in the basement dungeon, and surrounded by
her myriad instruments of bondage and discipline, she ordered me to stand
spread-legged directly under her most powerful ceiling-mounted winch. Then she
first kicked my legs even wider and wider apart, until I was tottering for
balance and she could lock my ankles into her longest spreader bar. This device
truly is insidiously long – not only does it push the triangle formed by my
legs and the bar way beyond equilateral to the seriously isosceles, but it
brings my butt down low enough to be at the perfect height for her beautifully
petite, ninety-eight pound, five foot zero-inches form.
Of course, Goddess didn’t leave me tottering that
way for long. Once my legs were spread and secured, she bound my arms tightly
together behind my back, lacing them into a black leather bondage glove, and
then hooked this to the cable depending from the ceiling winch. One touch on
the remote, and this machine then hauled my bound arms high into the air, until
my shoulder sockets were screaming with tension, my body was bent far over at
the waist, and my widely spread feet balancing on tiptoes.
After that, Goddess seemed satisfied with my bondage
and posture. Only the punishment proper remained. Truly in her element, she
grinned at me threateningly, and asked the question that I knew was coming.
“You look wonderfully uncomfortable, my foolishly
naughty, shamefully misbehaving Slut-boy. But you’re not really in any serious
pain quite yet. I think you need some clips and weights hung here and there,
don’t you?”
With an effort I cleared my throat, and then said
what she expected of me:
“I desperately need whatever you decree, my glorious
Goddess. I have failed you most miserably: repaid your generous ownership with
shamefully shoddy service. Please, do to me whatever you need to in order to
put things right between us once again. I lust only to be your perfectly abject
slave forever!”
Goddess Katia smiled gloatingly down at that,
reveling in her complete, total and eternal ownership of me. Then she turned,
went to the nearest wall rack, and gathered up what devices she required.
Two tight, toothed clips were attached to my nipples
– ouch! Then Goddess exacerbated this distress by hanging heavy weights from
them, stretching my tits out torturously toward the floor. Yet that was nothing
compared to what was coming. Next Goddess hung her heaviest weight of all from
my soldered-shut cock-cage.
Goddess Katia has never forgiven me the premature
ejaculation that sent me down the road to slavery in the first place. My
manhood is now locked away forever, and if Goddess wants cock, then she merely
attaches one of her giant dildos to the cage (giving me a prick many times the
size of my own that never fails her), or she straps in place my
inside-and-outside double-dildo-equipped wide leather gag and rides my face. In
any case, my sex organs nowadays provide me exclusively with misery, as they
constantly, futilely try to erect in their miniscule confinement. Or when
Goddess shocks them, sticks them with needles, or as now, hangs them with so
much weight they feel as if they’re being slowly torn from my body.
At last Goddess felt ready to begin beating me.
Shivering with anticipation and delight, she chose a thin, limber cane from
among her dozens of implements and approached my backside. “How many strokes do
you think you deserve, Slut-boy?”
“Glorious Goddess Katia, I couldn’t possibly answer
that. This is your universe, and I am but the lowliest of its creatures. Please
punish me as extravagantly or leniently as you see fit. Whichever it is, I will
love you for it more than ever when it is done.”
“Very well then, Slut-boy. I decree that for each of
those streaks (which you will clean as soon as you’re released) you will
receive twenty strokes of the cane. Count with me to forty now, and thank me
after each one. You know, as always, that this beating is entirely for your own
good – well, almost. I do confess I enjoy it immensely…”
Thus began my horrible ordeal.
Forty times Goddess Katia slashed her cane as hard
as she could across my naked buttocks. Forty times I somehow turned my scream
of agony into an articulated number. And forty times I blubbered my gratitude
to the gorgeous Goddess punishing me. At the end, when Goddess at last returned
her cane to its place on the racks, I was so wrung out that I hung wholly from
my bound arms, my flayed legs unable to support me in the least. Despite the
screaming in my shoulders (which paled in comparison to that in my ass and
upper thighs) I hung there so bent over at the waist that my face was at the
same level as the lead weight dragging inexorably at my ineffectual sex organs.
“Whew! That was a bit of a workout!” exclaimed
Goddess Katia.
Sweat ran down her beautiful face, and dampened her
amazing flood of waist-length raven hair. “I’m going to need a serious bath
now. And I suppose I’ll have to wash myself for once. My naughty slave Slut-boy
is going to stay right here, suffer appropriately, and think about what he’s
done, until I finally find it in my divine wisdom to forgive him!”
And with that she swept into the elevator and was
gone.
And so I’ve been waiting here, weights dragging
agonizingly at my nipples and genitals, arms and shoulders stressed beyond
belief, backside flaming with the pain of my caning, humbly bent over in my
bondage and counting every excruciating second until my glorious Goddess at
last returns. And yet even all these many torments are nothing next to the
agony of anticipation: will Goddess deign to fuck me when she finally comes
back? And will she do so with the mindless abandon, limitless passion, and
inexhaustible energy she almost always brings to the act after a particularly
satisfying punishment session? Only time will tell I suppose…
Ah yes! At last I hear the elevator descending!
Goddess is finally returning to her underworld, and
to her erring husband/subject/slave awaiting judgment. Heart pounding within
me, I crane my neck, eager for that first glimpse of her, which will
undoubtedly tell me everything I need to know…
Yes! Oh yes! Oh praise you and bless you, my
beautiful, gloriously gorgeous Goddess! The door slides open and there she is,
in all of her incredible beauty. Her hair is clean and shining, her face lit up
with love and lust and her perfectly symmetrical, amazingly large, beautifully
firm, round breasts dramatically displayed. Best of all, the only exception to
her heavenly nudity are the skin-tight, flesh-colored penis-pants that she
particularly fancies for fucking me. Not only is the enormous organ (twelve
inches long and as big around as a beer bottle) equipped with an inner
vibrator, it connects to clitoral stimulators and a deep vaginal probe that
transmits every vicious thrust that she gives me right back into herself:
fucking us both with every stroke.
Immediately my imprisoned penis starts to swell,
doing its damnedest to erect in its tiny confinement. Of course this only adds
to the agony of all the weight suspended from it, but nothing can stop me from
trying to get hard. From now until whenever our maniacal bout of fucking ends,
my organ will be a compact ball of excruciation, straining futilely at the bars
of its cage. Helplessly I groan in pain, need, and unholy anticipation as my
ruling Goddess approaches and addresses me.
“Well, do you think you’ve learned your lesson,
Slut-boy?”
“Oh yes, my Goddess, definitely. Thank you so much
for correcting me!”
“Very well then. I forgive you. In a little while
I’ll take you back upstairs, and after you clean the mirror properly, we’ll go
to bed. Then I will prove to you how much I love you by allowing you to make
respectful, worshipful love to your wonderfully omnipotent Goddess. We will
kiss and cuddle and caress so slowly and exquisitely…you’ll be allowed to
fondle and suckle at my bountiful breasts and big hard cock to your lowly
heart’s delight…then you’ll service my heavenly vagina with your fingers, lips
and tongue for uncounted hours…. I may even allow you to attach a giant
vibrator to the outside of your cage, and pretend that you’re still a real man,
and not an eternally impotent sissy-slave, by mounting and fucking me with it
until I come about a thousand times. Wouldn’t you just love all of that?”
Weakly I gulp, trying not to think of the
insanity-inducing amount of competing ecstasy and frustration this last always
causes me, how I often end up weeping helplessly and banging my head on the
wall in an excess of endlessly escalating, eternally un-relievable arousal.
Swallowing down my lust and dread, feeling my caged cock throbbing angrily in
its cramped little prison, I somehow answer her. “Yes my wonderful Goddess.
Those occasions torture me terribly, but I live for them nonetheless.”
Goddess smiles sweetly at me. “Yes, I know you do. And
I know how exquisitely you suffer for me. I can hardly imagine how you live,
and stay sane. Ten years without an orgasm, or even a complete and pain-free
erection! If I don’t come my brains out at least three times a day I can’t
stand it! But as you know, your suffering and deprivation, your eternally
burning and yet eternally denied need is what turns me on most of all. That you
need to come so bad, and yet never can, thrills me endlessly. And what’s more
important, Slut-boy: your worst suffering, or your Holy Reigning Goddess’
tiniest arousal?”
“Your arousal, of course, my Goddess! I exist only
to provide you with pleasure, in the most miniscule amount! I couldn’t live
with the thought you of being unhappy, or even the tiniest bit unfulfilled. I
only want to slavishly serve you throughout all eternity!”
“And so you shall,” declares Goddess Katia.
“I may be cruel in my unavoidable way, but I am also
a most benevolent Goddess. And although I keep your cock forever locked, and
allow you almost no manly pleasures at all, I delight in providing you with
alternative fulfillment. So now I am going to fuck your sissy little brains
out, just as I do every day, and later, after I let you worship, service, and
fuck me, I will probably do it again and again and again and again, just to
show you, as always, how much better I am at fucking than you are, and thus how
appropriate our respective places in this universe are.”
“Oh, thank you, Goddess, thank you so much!” I
babble.
Goddess Katia merely grins, and then she picks up
that big double-dildo cock-gag from one of the racks. She forces the shorter,
four-inch penis into my mouth, and then tightly buckles the straps around the
back of my head, leaving the longer, ten-inch erection jutting out from my
gagged face.
“There! I won’t be riding this just now, but you’re
going to need something to bite down on, Slut-boy. I’m going to do you
extra-brutally right here. Which will be greater, the pain or the pleasure? I
don’t want to know until after I’m done!”
Goddess Katia strokes her enormous boner, pumping on
the shaft and rubbing it against my face, teasing me with what’s coming. Then
she switches on the vibrator and circles around my bent over form until she
stands directly between my locked-apart legs. Despite the outrageous size of
that cock, the only lubrication she needs is to spit on it a few times. After
ten long years together, in which Goddess’ favorite sport, pleasure, pastime
and sexual act has been to righteously and exhaustively butt-fuck me several
times a day, my hole has been stretched out enough to accommodate even the most
gigantic of her many penises. Now Goddess wastes no time at all. She steps up,
spreads my cheeks out wide and stabs her vicious way into me.
As always, I groan in eloquent delirium, as pain,
shame, unimaginable pleasure and un-relievable arousal flood through me.
Goddess’ laugh in response is both wicked and gleeful, as she begins to perform
her favorite activity on me for maybe the millionth time.
“Ah, Slut-boy, you love it! You’ve loved it ever
since the day I took your cherry! Remember how hard you came, all bound up in
my bed, with a pillow lifting up your ass and me attacking it like mad? You
shot more hot come out onto my pillow than I’ve ever seen any man produce, much
less a sissy little butt-slut chamber-slave. Perfect experience for a first and
last time respectively! And now we are bound together forever by this act: the
quintessential expression of my unlimited eternal dominance over you!”
So saying she starts thrusting away: pumping
pneumatically in and out of me until her hips thwap! against my
cane-flayed ass and the length of her giant cock fills me completely with every
stroke. Its hot electric buzzing stokes my arousal mercilessly, as does
Goddess’ panting and moaning and trash-talking as she fucks me.
“Little slut! Little pig! Little dick-slave
sissy-boy! Feel me take your tender ass! Feel me ram my monstrous cock all the
way into you! Feel me steal away your tiny remaining manhood with every
overwhelming thrust!”
Believe me, Goddess, I do. But what I also begin to
feel, as her rhythm accelerates along with her enjoyment, are the agonies
formerly relegated to my secondary awareness.
As my body is pounded back and forth by my brutal
sodomy, the weights attached to my nipples and genitals begin to swing wildly
too, re-awakening the agony in these areas and compounding it constantly.
Likewise the bondage glove and cable bending me over and stretching up my
shoulders is all that holds me in place (Goddess’ gripping hands on my hips
excepted) and every time these restraints snub my forward momentum and snap me
back into place, the stress on my shoulder sockets seems to increase by many
orders of magnitude. Soon I’m biting down hard on the plastic cock filling my
mouth, and screaming unintelligibly into the leather gag completely covering
the lower half of my face. Whether the pain or pleasure is greater, or whether
they are ultimately indistinguishable, is impossible to answer. I only know
that I both want it to go on forever and desperately need it to stop
immediately.
Of course neither of these outcomes is possible. As
of now, Goddess is still only human after all (blasphemous thought, that!) and
cannot yet sustain her favorite activity for all eternity. But she is still an
incredibly remarkable human being: fit and petite, tight and toned, amazingly
mobile and driven by passions far more extravagant than any I’ve ever
encountered. Somehow she carries on sodomizing me through at least three
clearly recognizable orgasms, until perhaps an hour has passed and I’m once
again hanging limply from my cruelly inverted arms. My legs have long since
quit trying to help support me, and the floor under my face is slick with the
drool of my delirium and the snot expelled by my incessant sobbing. But
finally, when I can no longer think coherently or differentiate between the
many sensations continuously assaulting me, I somehow grasp the change when
Goddess stops pounding her enormous penis relentlessly in and out of me.
The clamps are released from my tormented tits, and
the terrible weight stops dragging at my agonized organs. Distantly I’m aware
of my legs being unlocked, and when the cable releases my wrists I collapse
helplessly to the floor. Cooing encouragingly at me, Goddess unlaces and
removes the bondage glove, and spends a few minutes rubbing the life back into
my deadwood arms. The pins and needles of this gradually prick me back towards
full awareness, and at last I’m nearly coherent again as Goddess snaps a leash
onto my permanently locked-on neck collar. Then she drags me staggering to my
feet.
“Come on, Slut-boy, let’s go. You can clean up the
mess you made down here tomorrow. Right now it’s time for you to fix your
horribly faulty job on the mirror. Then we’ll see what you can do for me,
before I spend the rest of the night having my violent way with your sexy slave
ass once again!”
Woozy, hurting head-to-toe and inside and out, I
follow the remorseless tug on the leash, and gorgeous Goddess Katia’s delicious
grin, into the elevator to upstairs.
I can barely bear to think of what awaits me up there…