Date: Fri, 23 Dec 2005 11:25:22 +0000
From: tikkidog@fnords.org
Subject: Revelations

Revelations. By K.C. Green

WARNING: The fallowing story is fiction, complete and as a whole. Though
some parts may or may not be derived from real life, the story itself has
never happened. Also the Story contained herein is about sex between
consulting male adults.  Persons who may be in infringement of a law either
by there city, state, or country should be advised not to read any further.
The sexual acts in this story may or may not contain safe sex. In the
likely event that they do not depict safe sex, be aware and warned that
safe sex is not only a danger to your livelihood, but the lively hood of
those you may be sleeping with. Condoms and other such precautionary
materials are made available through purchase in several venues. Also most
bars and free clinics in most cities offer free condoms. In closing, all
material including this warning is copyright K.C. Green. It is prohibited
that these materials be reproduced in any form for any use other then
personnel unless express written permission is obtained by K.C. Green
beforehand. K.C. Green may be reached via e-mail at: tikkidog@fnords.org

Addendum: For comments, suggestions, requests, concerns, or ridicule please
refer to the mentioned e-mail address above.


Part One

	I was seeing this guy David, he was the best thing to ever happen
to me. He was sweat, kind, giving, and best of all he was killer in the
sack. I fell for him the day I'd met him. The second I saw his eyeglass
covered light blue eyes, framed ever so angelically by his short stubbly
gray hair. Not that David was old mind you, he'd just begun graying at
thirty and it had continued into his ripe old age of 37. His body only
complemented the facial attraction. David was shorter then me compared to
my five foot ten inch height, he was about five foot seven, give or take
about a half inch. He was overweight, but only slightly, and it was all
solid. He was what people called stocky.

We'd been dating for just a month over a year, we were happy, and things
were great. My job was going well. Everything really seamed to be falling
into place. Except for one little thing. At least it started out little.


	I would come home from work David worked a late job that didn't
start until after I'd been home for five hours.  So he'd always have dinner
ready and waiting. We'd eat and talk about our days, usually have a quick
shag and shower right after dinner, and then we'd watch a movie right
before he left for work. I usually only stayed up another two hours after
he left. During this alone time I'd normally sit and draw, write in my live
journal, or chit chat with a few friends online. Of course this also
included the occasional perversion quest through the online story archives,
or one of the many story groups I was blessed to be the member of. Most of
the time I'd just toss off and go to bed.

	After I'd been sleeping for eight hours David would get home, still
hyped from his night at work, and he'd wake me up with a blow job or a rim
job depending on how I was sleeping. We'd fuck like wild boars and he'd lie
down for sleep, as I'd wake up to get ready for work. I usually had two
hours to kill, so I'd start with a cigarette, check e-mails and whatever
small business I had. I'd go to the bathroom, take a shower, get dressed,
have a cup of coffee, and be on my way to start the whole thing over again.

	Life was pretty dammed well to me at that point. Beyond David my
family was growing and I'd recently become an uncle.  My parents had found
a happy way to stabilize themselves and live a life which granted them the
ability to live as well as they wished and still be able to support there
kids if they needed to. I lived in a great city, San Francisco. To top all
of that off, I had an amazing apartment, which I'd gotten through a
friend. We'd been able to work it out so that I could sign onto her lease
as she signed off. That kept the rent at $1200 for a three bedroom,
two-bath apartment, with a huge kitchen, dinning room, and a good-sized
living room. I always secretly hoped I could go back to high school and
snub my nose at anyone who'd snubbed his or her nose at me then.


	However, one night, right after David and I had had our movie and
he'd left for work, I'd decided that night's shag hadn't done enough for
me. It had been great, but for some reason I still can't find, I had an
itch to get something different. Now this wasn't too unusual mind you, I
often got odd itches. Thankfully prior to consummating the relationship,
David and I had decided upon an open relationship. There were, of course,
stipulations to this wonderful rule.

We could sleep with other people. We could even sleep with the same people
consecutively. Which meant fuck buddies were fine. We'd decided it was fine
to arrange a few pre-fuck meetings to allow for any shyness or cautiousness
that should be addressed. Though there were to be no "relationships", which
we'd defined as anything that felt like it couldn't be dropped at a moments
notice. We'd decided on this in case any jealousy arose or an emotional
trauma caused conflict. We'd made it pretty lose and very clear-cut.

Another reason we'd both decided on these rules was that I liked to
occasionally partake of sexual role-play involving submissive and
domineering roles. While David understood and was even very kinky, he
wasn't fond of playing sadist, or Sir.  David was also not comfortable with
the idea of me having a Sir on the side; it seemed a little to close to a
relationship.  So we'd drawn that particular proverbial line in the
sand. On this night though, things changed.

I'm not the type to say, "this is not my fault" very often. I know when I
screw up and I was taught to own up to that. I had good strong willed
parents whose nearly altruistic views had stuck in my head.  This though,
this is not entirely my fault. Granted I had choices that in retrospect I
could have made different, allowing the ultimate outcome to have been
something far less heinous, however this was not all my fault.

I got online and began surfing the story archives for something dirty.
Something with water sports, bondage, puppy play, diapers, hell even
animals, I was in a very unclean mood. I opened numerous stories, scrolling
down each one to find the "meat" to see if I felt the rest of the story was
worth reading. Not liking the lengthy ones that explained every aspect of
the story simply because I wanted to shoot my load off right away.

While I was perusing the Internet for smut, a notice popped up on my screen
that I had e-mail. Being a glutton for attention of course I immediately
re-directed my browser to see what adoring fan was trying to get in touch
with me. Of course by adoring fan I mean possible spam, good friend, or
smut group.  I typed in my information, pressed the login button, and
hurriedly clicked the mouse to get the inbox to open as quickly as possible
on a pirated wireless connection.

Upon viewing the comments I was pleasantly surprised to find it was
actually an adoring fan of sorts. One of the many personals sites I was
subscribed too had sent me an automated e-mail to let me know some horny
man had looked at my necked pictures and decided to comment. Just my luck,
it was one of the ones related to the darker side of kink. Of course
fallowing my previous path on the quest for narcissistic indulgement, I had
my browser opened to the profiles message page within seconds and I began
to read the fallowing.

Boy,

	Very nice to read your profile, I enjoyed seeing your pictures as
well. Was it your boyfriend who took those pics with you hog tied like
that? I'm interested in pursuing further intentions other then just getting
each other off.  I want you to e-mail me back if you are interested in
finding out more. If you have even the slightest interest after viewing my
profile, you are to turn off your computer, go far enough away that you can
no longer see it. Go into another room if you have to, to ensure that it
wont be directly in view, this will help keep a small weight of the
decision off of your mind.  Stay there for twenty minutes and think very
hard. Do not touch your cock. Do not fondle your cock. Most importantly do
not concentrate on the stiffness of your cock, the aching need for
release. Forget the throbbing press it has against your pants
 or underwear. At least I hope your wearing underwear. You need to have
something covering that cock up so your not constantly thinking about it
boy. You are taking this time to consider the possibility of beginning
something life changing.

  If you message me asking for more information, you will receive immediate
instructions on a task that you must perform in order to show me that your
willing to began and ready to accept what I will be asking of you. Bear in
mind that I have your best interests at heart. After reading your profile I
believe that I can help you explore yourself in a submissive dynamic that
you were not even aware you could enter into. I intend to change not only
your mode of thinking, but your life as well.

You seem very sincere and honest in your profile and though I cannot
possibly know you in any real way through such a small self-advertisement,
I do believe you have something special I can help you discover. I expect
to hear from you in twenty minutes, try not to disappoint me boy, and
remember to be sure and wear something to cover that cock of yours to keep
your mind where it should be boy.


Dominatingly
Sir


I looked at my screen for a moment; it was as if my mind didn't really want
to understand the cleverly intelligent e-mail my computer was showing
it. It took a moment to sink in, but when it did I felt kind of nervous,
and my cock was dripping and hard in my pants. It surprised me that all it
had taken was an e-mail from some guy I didn't know giving me orders and
telling me that if I submitted to him he'd mentor me to new sexual avenues.

Honestly, I brushed it off and figured what the hell; I'd probably end up
trying to find out anyway. I always was the curious George type. So I
checked out his profile. He was pretty good looking, definitely my type,
which I've been told is not everyone's, but he had me the second the
picture loaded. He had black hair sticking out from under a black leather
rebel cap, with gray temples barely showing. Dark brown eyes, and a thick
black almost but not quite handle bar mustache accenting an equally thick
goatee, both around plump, soft looking lips. His body was thick but he
worked out enough to keep it muscle. Not ripped or cut muscle, more like
the muscle you'd expect to see on a construction worker, or some other
heavy lifting manual labor job. His skin was light pink covered with dark
hair. The hair covered the chest creeping down his neck, over his pecks
perfectly covering each, and down his stomach into the waistband of a black
leather jock strap, which concealed what appeared to be a fat bulge.
Finally his hands stood rather then sat at his sides, each bulging and
large covered with black fur, which disappeared into black leather gloves.

I didn't even read the profile. I clicked the start button on my windows
OS. Went for the shut down icon, hesitated for a brief moment. Then
proceeded to shut down my computer. I got up from my computer chair and
noticed my cock had dripped enough for a rather noticeable puddle to appear
on the front of my now overly tight jeans. I had even worn underwear today
so it was a little more surprising then usual. I thought for a moment of
stripping them off and relieving myself of the pressure they were
providing. Then I remembered the advice of the mysterious yet compellingly
beautiful Sir whose order I was fallowing. Then I realized that I was
indeed fallowing his orders.

I closed my mind from my cock and tried to forget about what was in my
pants. I walked out of the dinning room where the computer sat and went to
the living room. I sat down on the couch and began to let myself wonder
about this man. More importantly why after only one e-mail and seeing his
picture I decided I needed to know more about his ideas on how to help me
grow. Could it have been the fact that he looked exactly like my boyhood
wet dreams on feet and in reality? Could it have been that his e-mail came
across in just the right way? Could it be my life long affliction of
feeling a need for a father figure despite the fact that my father was an
amazing person and great father? Could it be any number of psychological
reasons? Why yes, it could.

I soon realized that I wasn't asking any of the right questions. What I
really needed to know wasn't why I was interested.  It was more important
in this situation to know how interested I was. Already he had provided a
challenge by giving me orders to comply to if I was interested, those
orders included orders if I discovered I was even more interested. Once I
complied with those orders I would be given more orders before I'd be told
what it was I was really interested in. Hopefully by then I'd be given an
ultimatum on the final decision.

My mind continued to drift between questions and my throbbing hard on. I
imagined what could possibly be in store in the next order, and that made
my cock throb, I imagined what it was this man was going to tell me if I
decided to go further, and that made my cock throb. I imagined hundreds of
possibilities, hundreds of scenarios, in twenty minutes I'd managed to
almost talk myself out of it.

At some point in time I stopped my fantasizing and thought about where this
might be going. Was this just another crazy old coot that was going to tell
me I had to move to his ranch to join his stable. Not that the thought
hasn't always intrigued me, but it's just not a plausible lifestyle in my
mind. Was this man going to ask that I do something harmful to myself?
What exactly was this mans intentions?

In the last five minutes I was able to convince myself that his e-mail had
made several clear points that he had taken into account that he didn't
know me, and that this was an attempt to figure me out. I'd also convinced
myself that I was being paranoid, something I'd always been and was
currently attempting to stave off. I'd made the final decision.

I went back into the den and powered up my pc. The loading screen seemed to
take longer then normal. The screen stared at me for what felt like ages,
mocking me, poking fun at the fact that I was impatient and it stood in my
way. My evil computer continued to taunt me as the multiple programs that
were loaded to launch in the icon tray at start up began loading causing
the computer to be briefly unusable. I was tapping my foot and rolling my
fingertips over the edge of the computer desk by the time everything
finally loaded. I rejoiced a little on the inside when the high-speed
connection showed it was already connected and would give me less trouble
as a result.

I opened my browser, got to the profile messenger page with a speed that
caused the computer to almost gag. I thought to myself "Take that you evil
machine." I prepared to write back and I froze. What the hell was I
supposed to write back? How was I supposed to respond to e-mail like that?
I'd had what most would call some submissive training, but I couldn't
recall ever having been taught this exact situation. I figured, just incase
this guy turned out to be some lame muscle head with one good pick up line,
that I'd better just send forth the fallowing light hearted e-mail:

Sir,

    Thank you very much for responding to my profile. It was arousing to
receive such a response. I can honestly say I've never received such an
invitation and am very curious to hear what you have to say. I'm ready to
hear what the next order is, and to try to take this a bit further. I
looked at your profile briefly and will read the rest of it while I await
your reply like a hopefully puppy waiting for his treat.

Submissively
 James


I sent it off and begin reading Sir's profile, allowing my stomach to swoon
once more when the picture re-loaded. It was actually a very short profile
by comparison to mine, very simple and very to the point. By the end it
almost made me feel lucky to have even been considered by this man. His
profile was pretty standoffish and he seemed rather exclusive, it read as
fallows.


Boys: I am a domineering sadist. I have made grown men cry for hours on
end. I have made young boys stand with pride for the rest of their lives. I
have chosen each one of them. I have initiated every boy I have ever had
under my wing. If you attempt to initiate me, you will not only be ignored,
but any further messages from your profile will be blocked and never
removed for the continuation of this accounts activity. Do not contact
me. If I am interested I will let you know.

Boy's I have contacted: Respond with respect. I have taken time out of my
life to consider you as a possibility for involvement in my life. I take my
life very seriously, so if your interest I suggest you do too. I'm a very
caring and nurturing individual, however I take the time to spell out
things very clearly, if this is ignored, I will not be pleased.

My interests and yours are only important if we need to talk. I will ask
yours and give mine when I have decided the time is appropriate. I only
respond to profiles with photos. As a result I already know what you look
like and only care about your weight if you're going to be hanging from the
ceiling. In which case I will ask.

That was it. I immediately felt a twinge of guilt. He had stated very
clearly how to respond to his e-mail, and because I'd only just looked at
his photo I'd missed it. All he'd said was that he wouldn't be pleased.
After having remembered him specifically asking me in his e-mail to try not
to disappoint him, that line seemed more painful then if he'd just written
that he'd ignore me.

I again asked myself more probing questions, like why had I felt this
guilt? I didn't know this man did I? No. I had been respectful hadn't I?
Well I had in a way. At least I fallowed orders right? Right. It always
sort of made me worry that I was sarcastic to everyone, even if not
especially to myself.

Just as I'd reached my last question I received e-mail. Hopefully and
eagerly I checked it again. I saw that it was indeed from him. I was
excited and worried at the same time, my stomach doing weird turns and
suffering from strange waves of nauseous guilt. I opened the e-mail and was
let down to see it was so short; I was even more disappointed to have my
feelings confirmed.

Boy,

	It's upsetting to find that you couldn't fallow my order to read my
profile before complying with the rest of my orders. It's more upsetting to
know that you could have saved yourself some trouble had you read my
profile before responding. I made things quite clear, as I am sure you now
realize.  Just what was it you were thinking when you looked at my profile
boy? Were you horned and drooling once you saw my picture and decided that
was all you needed? You mentioned in your profile that you were shy and
cautious, is that an affliction that only comes around when a guy doesn't
make your dick hard just from looking at him? You also stated quite a few
times that you identified as a submissive, was that just a project you had
in drama class once and decided it was cute? Or do you really understand
what it is to have someone else's pleasure be the center of your world?  If
you really think that's the case, then who's pleasure did you have in mind
when you decided to skip reading my profile and go against my clear orders?
I expected more then this from you. I will let this be a lesson to myself
and remember not expect much of anything from you until I'm sure you really
understand what it is you are. I'm very disappointed in you boy.  Now your
orders are to strip off all of your cloths, put on that thick posture color
you were wearing in your pics, as well as the gates of hell, and the large
butt plug you felt it necessary to display. Take a length of rope or a
bootlace, tie one end into a slip knot around your testicles with the knot
on the underside and the loop closed tight enough that neither of your
balls can slip through. Then take the length of rope/lace and wrap it over
to the front and under the center of the loop separating each testicle on
either side. Sit back down at your computer chair, pull the length of
rope/lace tightly down towards one of the wheeled legs and secure the rope
tightly to said leg.  Use your digital camera to take pictures showing me
you have complied with each part of this task, and then e-mail me back.
Your e-mail should not be a response to this e-mail, but rather a second
try at responding to the first. Consider this chance two. Make a new
decision. I hope to hear from you, and see you in a better light shortly
boy. Re-read my previous e-mail before attempting, I want you to get this
right boy, and I really do.

Sir


I couldn't imagine that I had gotten that much wrong. I was devastated. He
had used so many words just to reiterate continuously how much higher he
had thought of me before I let my dick get control of me. I felt bad and
wanted to make it up to him. I immediately ran to the bedroom to grab the
items needed. Tieing myself by the balls to the computer chair wasn't new
to me, it was only the first time I'd ever been instructed to do so in such
a careful manner. Even so I was so stressed to fix the damage I'd done I
fought asking any more questions. After all, I hadn't asked the right ones
the first time right?

I got to the bedroom and stripped off all of my cloths like they were on
fire. I raided my special toy box in David and my closet. I pulled out the
thick stiff posture collar, which made it impossible for me to look down. I
grabbed a small length of rope, the one I'd used numerous times to tie my
nuts to my computer chair, my three ringed gates of hell, and the large
butt plug I'd used in the pics. It was then that I stopped to worry for a
moment.


This was a big butt plug when you actually stopped and thought about
shoving it up your ass. Now mind you I have smaller hands then most men,
but this plug was still as big as my hand collapsed. Shoving it in was
always like fisting myself.  However with years of experience I'd narrowed
it down to a ten-minute ritual. So I shook away the momentary fear of large
objects being inserted rectally, grabbed the lube and headed back into the
den.

I decided to put the butt plug in first, fallowed by the testicle bondage,
then the posture collar as I couldn't see down to do the others properly
otherwise. Then I thought back on the e-mail and remembered that previously
I hadn't paid enough attention to get it right. So I set everything down in
the computer chair and hunched over to open the message again, just incase
I had missed somewhere that I wasn't allowed to sit until everything was on
again. Sure enough he had ordered everything so that the posture color was
to go on first. No doubt to ensure that I worked for the task.

I placed the posture collar on my neck and was once again aware of the
raging hard on I'd been sporting. I realized I'd been so caught up in doing
this right that I'd forgotten about the hard on I still had and the
difficulty I was going to have getting on the gates of hell as a result.
You see I don't have a very large dick; in fact it's short and not very
thick at all. No one has ever disputed this fact. So as a result most gates
of hell manufactured never fit me. So I'd had this one specially made, with
only three rings, so the third ring was directly behind my cock head, the
middle ring directly around the center of my shaft, and a third ring around
the base. The only other ring was a cock ring barely larger then the shaft
rings, which both only allowed two of my fingers to pass through. I may
have had a small cock, but it was definitely thicker then two of my
fingers.

I paused a moment, positioned my digital camera and snapped a shot of the
collar attached to my neck.

It was designed for pain and discomfort. It was designed to make the cock
hurt more then normal when engorged with blood.  It was designed to make
being hard and stiff, excruciating and impossible to get rid of. It was
designed to torture a cock, which got hard within it's confines. It was not
designed to go over an already throbbing hard prick. This was going to
hurt, so of course it was next on my agenda.

I begin first with attempting to contort my body enough for my cock to
reseed as much into myself as possible, to allow the cock ring which I'd
pulled each nut through one at a time because it was too small for both at
once, over the remainder of my sex. The posture collar making this all the
more difficult as I could not see what I was doing. I could feel my neck
spasms every once in a while as I tried to look down. I soon found it
possible to get my cock to reseed properly, but once I begin to stand up
the ring and leather begin pulling steadily against the skin, causing
stress and pain. My first thought was Holy shit that hurts, my next thought
was, friction needs lube. I grabbed the lube and was able to finish
positioning the cock ring. Then came the actual body of the package.

In order to get my cock head squeezed through the first ring, and all the
way down my shaft to the base, I'd have to contort my body again. I'd also
have to slowly pull it down so I could get the head through the second and
third ring as it pushed itself back out of my contorted flesh. Something I
should have thought about doing in the first place.

The pain was dull at first. Just felt like squeezing my cock hard but with
a little motion. Shortly however the pain became excruciating. It was slow,
and it was painful to feel my swollen cartilage crushed down by an ever
moveing compressing circle of steel. As I got halfway down the shaft, the
second ring begins to slide down. I was breathing hard and moaning in pain
as I forced the device over my cock. Willing myself along the way "Come on,
come on boy you can do it, come on!" Then finally the last ring, which
finished the long process of excruciating pain by adding one final crush to
my now tender cock head, restraining itself behind the now bulbous head,
The entire time my neck spasemed and my eyes stayed open, trying to get a
look at what I am sure was now a mangled read swollen piece of meat.

I paused again to take a picture, breathing hard and heavy. Allowing myself
to rest a little to breath correctly again.

It was time now to insert the butt plug. Thankfully this process was sure
to be simple, as I'd done it hundreds of times before. Usually however with
more warning and preparation. I lubed the plug up with liberal amounts,
allowing the lube to drip down over my fingers. Anything left on my hands
went directly to my ass. I smeared it against the checks and around my
hole. Then I proceeded to stick the head of the plug to my puckered
hole. It had actually been a good two months since I'd had this up my
ass. Lucky for me David made sure my ass was never fully out of practice
however.

Soon the plug was pushing its way into my anal lips, the pressure building
at a steady pace as I pressed it firmly against my hole. Fighting my own
muscles attempts to remain tensed and close. I concentrated and attempted
to relax, slowly pushing more and more of the ever-thicker plug into my
hungry hole. As the bulk of it reached the entrance to my bowels I could
feel a slight twinge of pain from being stretched, and the erotic nearly
maddening feeling of the plug causing firm constant pressure on my
prostate. My cock pulsed, causing racking waves of pain thought the
entirety of my sex. My hand waiverd, my ass muscles clenched and the plug
was pushed part of the way back out.

It took another three minutes to relax and get back to the point I had been
in, I was now ignoring the fact that my cock was aching. I was no longer
fighting the posture color, and I was sternly set to finish the task, I
concentrated hard and shoved the last bit of latex past my muscled wall and
a loud roar of a moan escaped my mouth as my ass muscles clenched, my
prostate was rammed with the force, my cock pulsed within the crushing
device, and my body was racked with flames of pleasure, and icy blades of
pain.

I had to guess if I was positioned correctly as I paused and bent over in
front of the camera to show off that the butt plug was indeed shoved into
my ass.

I was almost done. Finally. I sat down on my computer chair and jumped
right back up in a most ungraceful way, as the plug was shoved in further,
my cock pulsed and I attempted to look down at the offending pain once
again hitting my body.  I re-prepared myself and tentatively sat back
down. Slowly and carefully.

I then tied my nuts, very careful to not cause any more sudden pulses of
pain as a result of pleasure full gestures.  I wasn't kind, but I wasn't
rough either, I was very matter of fact with myself. I tied the rope
tightly around my ball sack, pushing my balls tightly to the then, then
separating each testicle in the way I was told to so. Then I attached the
end to one of the wheeled legs of the chair, making sure to pull along any
slack I may have incurred by bending over, to ensure that my nuts were
pulled optimally. I sat back, my nuts were pulled, the plug moved in my
ass, my cock pulsed and I moaned an exasperated and defeated sound of pain.

I breathed heavily in and out for a few minutes, then re positioned the
camera a few times, taking several pictures from multiple angels of my
situation.  I then begin to read Sir's first e-mail over.

Upon re-inspection of his e-mail I realized not only had I replied wrong, I
had also failed to answer his questions. I was astonished at the negligence
I had shown. So I begin re-typing the letter. Amazingly all of the pain I'd
put myself through and was going through, mixed with the guilt, the
continued and unrelenting horn build up, and the hope of being able to
regain Sir's good graces made me a lot more submissive. Proof as fallows:

Dear Sir,

	Boy humbly tanks you for gracing him with your words. Boy is great
full to have been chosen by Sir for such a wondrous opportunity. Boy would
be very honored to be allowed further information on Sir's ideals for boy's
further exploration. Boy is very honored to have received such glowing
complements from Sir and hopes to live up to Sir's expectations. To attempt
to show this gratitude boy will complete the next ordered task Sir will be
sending promptly and without question. Boy thanks you again Sir for this
opportunity. As to Sir's question of whom took boys hog-tied pictures, it
was boy who took those pictures Sir. Boy set up the computer for remote
camera shots, blindfolded, gagged, and hogtied himself, then took said
pictures Sir.  It took boy 30 minutes to get boys self untied Sir. Boy
looks forward to further communication with Sir if Sir Sea's fit.

Submissively
Boy

I attached the photos and awaited a response. The excruciating pain
continuing to build in my cock only outweighed my impatient.  Though I
couldn't look down to see, I was pretty sure most of my crotch was some
shade close to purple. I suddenly begin to hope that I was allowed out of
this bondage soon, as thoughts of accidental castration ran through my
head. I stared at my screen with renewed fervor, impatiently awaiting my
Sir's reply.


Authors Note: This may or may not be a first chapter in line of stories.
It's rare that I get the inspiration to fully write out a story.  This was
spur of the moment and there's definitely more story, this isn't even the
meat of the idea. The characters actually have more depth then currently
shown. Specifically Sir. Please, comments, suggestions, and ridicules are
always suggested and accepted. Refer to the warning at the beginning of
this story for my e-mail.

Submissively
K.C. Green