Legal Stuff:

The following story contains graphical, fictional descriptions of non-consensual sex and bondage.  If you are not of legal age, you are a resident of a state or territory that forbids such material, or you are easily offended by erotic material...Stop!  Leave!
 
This story is a fantasy about bondage and non-consensual sex.  Unlike these fantasies, true-life domination and bondage should always be SAFE, SANE, and CONSENTUAL. 

Characters and scenes depicted are fictional unless otherwise noted by the author.  Many of the characters and scenes portrayed within are inspired by erotic artwork, erotic photography, and erotic fiction found in the public domain.  Any resemblance to actual people or real life situations is purely coincidental.  Any resemblance to another author's fictional work is also strictly coincidental unless otherwise noted. 

This work is protected by U.S. copyrights.  The author gives you permission to post this story on any newsgroup, web page, or other public forum under the following conditions.  1) The story must published in its entirety; 2) The contents of the story may not be altered; 3) you may not charge any money for access to your site, including membership fees or download charges.  AVS services will not be construed as charging for your site.

(c) Copyright 1999,2000 - ygb
 
The author welcomes comments.  Comments may be sent via e-mail to the author.  His address is: 
* your_good_boy@hotmail.com


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Author's note (06/06/2000):  

The tone of this article was changed in the final chapter.  The author had intended a radical change in Drew's perception to occur at a key moment.  That change was accidentally not in the first releases of the story.  This version has the change integrated into the story.

Several grammatical changes have been made to the story.  No changes in plot or content have occurred.

Author's note (07/19/99):  

Mistress Mandy was inspired by a childhood acquaintance of the author.  Princess Shandra, Countess Catherine, Lady Nicole, and Lady Colleen were inspired by bondage/fetish artwork from Sojame.  Lady Sarah was inspired by the beautiful, loving wife of the author.

If you have ever fantasized about being a helpless captive of beautiful women, the many adventures of Drew Thomas should be of great interest.  If being a prisoner of: Cat Woman, Amazon warriors, outlaw cowgirls, The Oakland Raider Cheerleaders, your female boss, the girl next door, or even your own wife, turns you on, keep reading.
 
This story is the eighth in a series of fantasies as seen through the eyes of the fictional character, Drew Thomas.

Current volumes include:
 1. "Drew's First Time"
 2. "Drew's New Job"
 3. "Drew's Mysterious Client"
 4. "Drew's Frightful Trip"
 5. "Drew's Royal Retreat"
 6. "Drew's Dreadful Demons"
 7. "Drew's Goddess Returns"
 8. "Drew's Surrender"
 9. "Drew's L.A. Adventure"
10. "Drew's Tropical Adventure"


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Drew's Surrender
The Drew Thomas Fantasy Series: Volume 8
Written by: your good boy


Prologue

Our "hero" is Drew Thomas, a mid-forties computer professional.  His life has been turned upside down during the past six months.  His wife of more than twenty years was killed in an accident.  His two sons have moved out of town to pursue their careers.

It has been thirty-five years since Drew's first encounter with bondage and Female Domination.  It has been thirty years since our "hero" had his brief reunion with Mandy, his teenage bondage goddess.

Drew has been at his new job for only six months.  His first few months were filled with unexpected bondage and sexual activity. He is being blackmailed by his incredibly beautiful boss.  He cannot quit or she will accuse him of sexual harassment.  During the past few months, he has fallen in love with his boss and his new life as a sissy slut.

Now, his childhood mistress has reappeared in his life.  She has offered to buy him from his boss for two million dollars...



Chapter 1 - Stop the World, I Want to Get Off!


Friday morning had the makings for being a hellish day!

I was tired.  Mistress Mandy had kept me awake very late into Thursday morning.  Don't misunderstand!  I loved every minute of the time I spent tied to her bed while she continuously kept me in a state of sexual euphoria.  It was great to revisit 'the good old days.'  But I had missed a lot of sleep that a man my age cannot afford to skip.  

I also didn't sleep well Thursday night.  I dreaded facing my boss after the events of the past two days.  I might be crucified.  I don't mean that lightly.  She had the wooden cross, and was not afraid to use it.  She had all the equipment she needed to make my life a living hell.

I stared out the window of my office.  The ducks were playing in the pond, but I didn't really care.  I normally love watching the antics of the flock.  But they didn't ease my mind at all.  After all, this might be the last time I ever saw them.

My Beautiful Loving Countess had told me we would discuss things later.  She hadn't sounded pleased.  But, I had helped the company land a huge contract with Mistress Mandy.  If she was really angry with me, she could have accepted the two million dollars Mandy had offered for me.  She said I was too valuable to the company to let me leave.  She said they loved me.  

I still felt that I was in big trouble.  They might use the tongue press, the ball press, and hot branding irons on me.  I can't even imagine some of the things they might do to me.  I cringed as I thought of the possibilities....  They might castrate me!

"Drew," the voice of Jenny Jordan came softly through the intercom.  "Ms. O'Hara wants you in her office ASAP."

"Thanks, Jenny," I replied.  I knew I wasn't supposed to call her by her first name, but what did it matter.  Screw formality, I was about to die anyway.

I walked into the office and closed the door.  Cathryn O'Hara sat in her leather chair behind the huge wooden desk.  The serious looks in her eyes confirmed my fears.  She was about to unload on me.

"Sit!"  The redhead snapped at me, contrary to her usually calm and courteous manner.

I sunk into the chair nearest the door.  I peered across the desk at my beautiful redheaded boss.  She was my loving mistress, surely she would understand.  But, "Hell hath no fury..."

Ms. O'Hara raised her eyes from the notepad on her desk.  Her grayish-green eyes usually melted my heart with their beauty.  This time they bore into me like a laser beam.

"What in Hell happened here the last two days?"  Her voice was quiet, but very irritated.

"My Beautiful Loving Countess, I..."   I started to answer.  

"Don't you dare call me that again!"  Her voice quivered as she cut off my reply.  "I might not be YOUR Countess if I don't like the answers you are about to give."

"I'm sorry Ms. O'Hara," I mumbled meekly.  "I really don't know what happened.  It all happened so quickly..."

"Stop!"  Her command caused me to freeze in my seat.  "We'll never get anywhere with you babbling incoherently.  I'll ask you questions; you just answer."

I nodded.

"Did you know the new client was Mistress Mandy?"  She asked calmly.

"No Ms. O'Hara.  It was a total surprise to me."  I stammered.

"Yet, you named the new server for her?"  A hint of irritation crept back into her voice.

"Yes Ms. O'Hara."  I meekly answered.

"May I ask why?"  The irritation was obviously growing.

"She was my first love.  She was my first mistress.  Her memory looms very large in my mind."

"Do you love her?"  Her irritation was giving way to suspicion.

"In a way," I mumbled meekly.  "But, I love her as a friend, a life-long friend.  I don't love her the way I love you."

"And you love me?"  Sarcasm, or at least skepticism, filled her voice.  Her tone was soft, but her look was coy.  

I felt like a hunted animal about to be trapped.

"I love you more than any woman I ever met."

"Even more than you're late wife?"

"Yes, even more than her."  Tears started down my cheek as I realized the truth behind my words.

"Drew, I know you loved her deeply.  Don't try to flatter me."  The stern nature of her voice sent shivers through my entire body.

"I mean it!"  I blubbered defensively.  "I love you more than any woman I've ever met.  I love to serve you.  I love to please you.  I want to be with you all the time."

"We'll talk about that later."  She seemed less harsh.  Her face began to relax.  She stared deep into my eyes for several seconds.  "Do you want to go to Mistress Mandy?"

The look on my face must have been one of utter disbelief.  I couldn't believe she had asked me that question.  Surely she wasn't thinking of taking the money.

"As a slave or as an employee?"  I asked, trying to gather my wits.

"Either."

"I haven't seen her for twenty-five years....  I don't know her anymore....  She was only a memory....  A pleasant memory, but just a memory....  I enjoyed seeing her....  I enjoyed serving her....  But, I love you....  I want to serve you....  I want to worship you."

"Drew, you are very special to us, both as an employee and as a toy.  I would never sell you," she paused, as if wistfully thinking, "even for two million dollars."  She paused again, briefly, as she gazed deep into my eyes.  "But, I will let you leave if you would rather work for her."

"I love football....  It would be fun working for the team....  I've never been to L.A....  I don't think I'd like it."  I stuttered from the shock of her offer.  "But, I don't want to leave....  I want to stay here....  I love my job!"

A grin slowly broke through her seriousness.  The warmth returned to her eyes.  

"Can you work with her?"  Her question seemed vague.

"As a client?"  I asked rhetorically.  "Absolutely!  This will be an exciting project....  It's huge....  It's a challenge."

"And as a mistress?"  She asked calmly.

"I will serve her as I would any other mistress you wish me to please."

"We won't be there to protect you."  She warned.

"But she will honor your rules?"  I asked as doubt began to enter my mind.  "Won't she?"

"She might.  But, we have no way to stop her if she didn't."  Her concern made her voice quiver.  "We would terminate our contracts, but the harm would already be done."

"Harm?"  I asked.  I looked at her in dismay. 

"Drew," she sounded irritated, "this is much more than kinky sex and bondage."  Her eyes became filled with fiery rage.  "Not all mistresses are loving and compassionate.  A few mistresses are just brutal and sadistic.  They will risk your health without concern."

She paused as she gazed at me.  "If you decide to stay with us, to serve us, we will protect you.  But, any time you are alone with another mistress, you risk your safety.  We cannot protect you if we are not present."

I looked at Cathryn O'Hara.  She had relaxed from her earlier tension, but was still very serious.

"Ms. O'Hara, I want you to be My Beautiful Loving Countess."  I waited briefly for her to yell at me again.  She didn't.  She smiled.  "I want to serve you.  I want you to teach me... to punish me... to protect me... to love me."  

I looked deep into her lovely green eyes.  I walked around her desk and knelt at her feet.  She probably thought I was bowing as a slave before his mistress.  My intentions were slightly different.  I reached up and took her hands in mine.

"I truly do love you more than I have ever loved anyone in my life.  Time I spend with you is so precious to me, whether business, social, or submissive.  I want you to be my mistress, but I want you to be so much more."  I paused to clear a lump from my throat.  

"Cathryn Scarlet O'Hara, will you marry me?"



Chapter 2 - Heart Aches and Heart Breaks


Cathryn O'Hara sat at her desk staring at me in total disbelief.  Her mouth hung open from the shock of my proposal.  It was the classic deer caught in the headlights expression.  

She raised her eyes, staring at the ceiling.  A few tears had slowly trickled down her cheeks.  Her beautiful face was distorted as her thoughts tumbled through her mind.  She was completely flustered.  She softly drummed her fingers on her desk as she desperately struggled to collect her thoughts.  

I had never seen her without complete control of a situation, until now.

She partially regaining her composure, but was still visibly shaken.  She reached out and took my hands in hers.  Her lovely, tear-filled, green eyes locked onto mine.

"Drew," her voice crackled through sobs, "I love you very much."  She paused briefly to clear her voice.  "If ever I could marry someone, it would be you.  You are the only man I've ever known that I could imagine being my husband....  But, I'm a life-style dominant.  I cannot marry you."

She pulled her hands from mine.  She wiped away the trickle of tears that slowly rolled down her lovely cheeks.  She struggled to regain her composure.

I was heart-broken.  I had not intended to propose, but I desperately wanted to marry this remarkable woman.  My face contorted in pain.

"We could be husband and wife, and still be mistress and pet."  I pleaded my case.  "I would not be a slave, but I also would not be a master."  My eyes bore deeply into hers, pleading with her to consent.  "I will be a loving, caring, attentive husband....  I will serve as you wish....  You can still have slaves....  You can still dominate others."

She gently brushed a tear from my eye.  She reached out and clasped my hands in hers.  Her mist-filled green eyes focused on my face.  I rotated my hands, intertwining our fingers.  I squeezed ever so gently.

"Drew, I've never really considered having a husband."  She was struggling with her emotions.  The strain etched her face.  "I just don't know how it would work.  I just can't marry you."

I sank back with my butt on my heels.  Devastated would be an understatement of my feelings.  I wanted to crawl under a rock and die.  

Moments passed until my mind began to work properly.  While I desperately wanted to marry the woman I loved, all was not lost.  If I couldn't marry her and be her loving mate, I still had a chance to be with her.

"My Beautiful Loving Countess?"  I asked softly, bringing her attention back to my face.  "If I cannot be your husband, I would still give everything I have to be your slave."

A strained smile broke across her mouth.  A soft gleam returned to her puffy, tear-filled eyes.  She wiped away the remaining tears.  Streaks on her cheeks still revealed the telltale path her tears had followed.

"Drew, I promised you an answer to this request.  But, I need a little time to freshen up and get organized."  Her smile was now broad, free of the tension of moments earlier.  "Come back at ten o'clock.  We'll discuss your request at that time."



Chapter 3 - Are You Ready For This?



Nicole DeLeon sat next to her redheaded friend.  Her dark black eyes focused on my face.  She intently studied my expression.  I felt like she was probing my mind with some form of telepathy.  She never blinked, never moved.

The two women glanced at each other.  It almost seemed they were communicating by thought waves.  They had been close friends for nearly thirty years.  They understood each other like a married couple.  Cathryn O'Hara once more looked at the ceiling in an attempt to gain control of her emotions.  Nicole DeLeon again focused directly upon me.

"Drew," the Caribbean Lioness spoke for the first time.  "We have discussed your request with the others.  We all love you very much.  Each of us wants you to be our servant.  But, you have been a pet ... a toy ... not a slave.  We all agree that you need a little more time, a little more guidance before you make your final decision."

I must have looked disappointed.  They loved me.  They wanted me.  But, they still weren't sure about me.

"There are three things we want you to think about."  Lady Nicole continued.  "We want you to think very hard about this and to be very sure you are willing to give up your freedom."

"First, you are a valuable member of our executive team.  You are an extremely talented professional.  We do not believe you could or should give up your career.  If you agree, you will be a part-time slave.  You will work here, as an equal member of the management team.  You will keep your home and belongings.  You will maintain a proper corporate image.  You will serve us on weekends and as needed in the evenings.  You will serve on trips, business or pleasure, as we request.  You will serve other mistresses and clients as we request.  You are expected to be available at all times.  You may be excused for personal reasons at our discretion.  Do you understand the first condition?"

"Yes Lady Nicole, your sissy slut understands."  I answered.

"Second, we consider ourselves a close-knit family.  The Countess, The Princess, Lady Colleen, Lady Sarah, Mistress Martha, and I share everything.  Especially, we share our slaves.  You will be the property of all of us.  You will naturally love each of us differently, but you may show partiality to none of us.  You will never refuse to execute a direct command from one of us.  Do you understand?"

"Yes Lady Nicole, your sissy slut understands."  I answered.

"Finally, we want you to understand exactly what total submission is before you agree to serve us.  Being a slave is much more than kinky sex!  You will serve our needs and our pleasures without expecting anything in return.  You will perform mundane chores.  Your free time will be in our control.  Your sexual pleasure will be in our control.  Your entire body will be ours.  You will submit to any request and any punishment from any of us."

"Yes Lady Nicole, your sissy slut understands."  I answered.

"NO!" Her voice crackled with frustrated anger as she slammed her fist on the desk.  
"YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND!"  She paused to regain her control.  

"Remember your week in the mountains with The Princess?  She asked you to submit completely.  You refused to submit to several of her requests.  To be our slave, you must trust us, you must submit to every request.  No matter how disgusting something seems to you, you must submit.  Even if you fear injury or death, you must submit."

She glared at me as I sunk in my chair.  

I was just beginning to understand.  I had enjoyed kinky sex and bondage.  I had enjoyed simple submission, such as kissing feet and walking like a dog.  But, I had refused to lick my own shit from a dildo.  I had refused to suck on the dildo.  I had refused to eat my own cum.  I had failed to obey several requests that I found disgusting.

Could I submit to disgusting orders?  Could I be a toilet slave?  Could I suck a real cock?  Could I risk injury or death for no apparent reason?

My Beautiful Loving Countess finally lowered her eyes from the ceiling.  It had taken her several minutes to regain her composure.  She decided to assume control of the conversation.

"Drew, you must understand what you are agreeing to do!"  She swallowed hard as she slowly started her list of concerns.

"If ordered, you will swallow urine and excrement?"  Her question was obviously rhetorical.  Her voice was calm, but skeptical.  Her eyes bore into mine.

"You will be a human ashtray?"  She paused very briefly for effect as she watched me gulp.  

"You will suck another man's cock and swallow his cum?"  She paused again.  Her expression never changed as my face twisted with revulsion.

"You will give and receive anal sex from men or women?"  She paused again to let her questions sink into my senses.  She seemed unfazed by my increasingly wary gaze.

"You will let someone torture you with hot wax?"

"You will submit to body piercing, tattooing, cigarette burns, branding, and electrical torture?"  Another brief pause ensued as my stomach began to churn at her words.  

"You will submit to many other things you have never done in your life?"  The lovely redhead swallowed to clear her throat.  Her serious look became even more intimidating.  She stared right into my eyes.  

"If ordered, you will submit to castration?"

My mouth dropped open.  Now I looked like the deer caught in headlights.  I shuddered at the word castration.  My face was pale and my stomach was sick.  Still calm, the redhead continued.  

"We may not agree with many things other mistresses do.  We may never order you to do any of the things I just listed....  But, you will have no choice....  You will obey any order we give you....  You do not yet understand! ... But you must understand before we accept you as our slave!"

I sat in my chair, stunned by the words of Lady Nicole and My Beautiful Loving Countess.  I trembled as the words registered in my mind.  Giving up control of your time is a big step to take.  Giving up control of your body is an unbelievable commitment.  My mind raced trying to reason through the vast amount of information I had just received.

The two ladies sat quietly, studying my reactions.  They said nothing, just observed.  They were correct.  I needed to understand the lifestyle I had offered to accept.  Once again, their love and concern for me had been greater than my ability to comprehend.

"Drew," My Beautiful Loving Countess interrupted my thoughts with her words as she handed me a diskette.  "We want you to be happy.  Here are some links to homepages about domination that Lady Nicole has prepared for you. Go home and study these pages we are giving you.  Think this through.  We can talk again Monday."

"Yes, My Beautiful Loving Countess," I replied.  "I am truly grateful to have such caring and loving mistresses to protect me.  Thank you, Lady Nicole"

She nodded as she waved her hand to "shoo" me out of her office.  I stood and bowed in respect. I turned and left her office.  I gathered my things and headed home.


Chapter 4 - Look Before You Leap


I arrived home, with a sack of groceries in my arm.  I needed to eat while I studied.  I had bought a sack full of microwave meals.  I had also indulged in chips, cookies, and soft drinks.  I put the groceries away and changed into a pair of sweats.  I was ready for a long weekend.

The list of web pages Lady Nicole had prepared me was a floppy disk with a home page on it.  All I had to do was bring up the page and follow the links in order.  The lady was very thorough and thoughtful.

The first set of links was to the home pages of several mistresses.  Most of the sites contained short stories and essays about female domination.  Some listed rules for slaves.  Some were essays on why women dominate men.  Many were stories about kidnapping, bondage, torment, and torture.  Other pages detailed slave training and treatment.

As the day slipped into night, I realized that every mistress was different.  I know that sounds pretty basic, but I had misled myself into thinking every mistress would be like mine.

Some of them were caring, loving mistresses and masters.  Yes, they enjoyed watching suffering and inflicting pain.  Yes, they used their slaves for their pleasure.  But, they cared for their slaves.  Their rules were well defined, and their punishments were just.  Their play was painful, but not dangerous.  They mixed pain and fear with rewards and love.  Their slaves loved them and felt secure in their care.     

But a few seemed unnecessarily cruel and vicious.  They showed no concern for their slaves.  Never did love or compassion receive any mention.  Their tortures and punishments served no purpose.  They were not training and correcting slaves.  They were merely abusing slaves for their own pleasure.  I guess if their slaves wanted that, it was their business.  But, I needed love.

After several hours of browsing and reading, I was hungry and tired.  I "nuked" a quick meal and listened to some music as I ate.  I relaxed a short while, then got on the exercise bike for some much-needed activity.  I showered and slipped into another pair of sweats.  I grabbed some cookies and a glass of milk.  I returned to my computer and moved to the next link.

The next series of links took me to a directory full of stories on our server.  They were mostly downloaded from news groups and saved in sub-directories by type of story.  Many of the stories dealt in kidnapping of slaves by masters or mistresses.  Each story showed a systematic approach to breaking a slave's will until they became submissive to their owner.  Ample doses of starvation, solitude, torture, and sex appeared to be a common theme.  Some times the master or mistress seemed caring. Some times they did not.

It was getting late in the evening.  I was tired from the week's exhausting pace.  I settled into bed and thought about the information I had viewed.  Not all torture was sexually exciting.  Not all service was sexual in nature.  Not all masters and mistresses were loving.  I still had a lot to learn.

I awoke very late Saturday morning.  I worked out for a while, then showered.  I prepared a quick breakfast and a pot of coffee.  I headed to my computer and resumed my quest. The links provided by Lady Nicole took me to two very long stories.  Both of the stories were about caring masters or mistresses.  

Both stories told of a systematic training of slaves by loving masters.  Despite the bondage and punishments, the slaves fell in love with their masters.  The stories were laced with interaction between the slaves and their masters.  The painful moments were offset by many lighter, personal moments.  The masters allowed the slaves to maintain their personalities.  This is how I envisioned being a slave to my mistresses would be.

The two sets of stories had taken all day to read.  I had skipped lunch.  I fixed dinner, ate, and relaxed to music.  I fell asleep on the couch.

Sunday morning I awoke to find the sun shining brightly.  I showered and grabbed some breakfast.  I turned on some music and settled down for a deep soul search.

I began by listing the freedoms I would be losing.  I would no longer be free to watch sports whenever I wished.  I would have to ask permission to visit with my children and grandchildren.  I would be at the whimsical calling of several women.  I would be controlled sexually at all times by their desires.

I then listed the services I might be required to provide.  I would be a servant.  I would do housework.  I would do yard work.  I would be their handyman.  Much of my energy would be spent at their direction.

None of the above items were objectionable to me.  They were small sacrifices to be made for the love and care of my mistresses.  

Then my mind shifted to the other side of submission.  I had little problem with cuffs and collars and leashes.  I had to admit I enjoyed being tied to a bed and screwed.  I loved eating pussy.  I didn't like CBT, but I had endured some pretty painful moments.  But, my punishments and tortures had been relatively mild.  Even my whippings had been with whips and canes that didn't leave cuts and scars.

I thought of the things that I had read on the net that I found disgusting and sadistic.  Vicious whippings, fire play, water sports, branding, sucking another man's cock, drinking urine, eating feces.  

How could anyone submit to that?  I had strong submissive tendencies, but I had to admit to myself that I wasn't ready to totally submit to everything.

I didn't really think any of my mistresses would ever want to do any of those things to me. My Beautiful Loving Countess had told Mistress Mandy in no uncertain terms that these things were not allowed.  But, My Kind and Gracious Princess had been very persistent to force me to "submit completely."  She had mentioned drinking urine, eating feces, and sucking cock many times while she tortured me.  Now, My Beautiful Loving Countess and Lady Nicole were telling me a slave had no choice.  He could not refuse.

Do I withdraw my offer to become a slave to avoid these things?  Or, do I submit to my mistresses and trust that they will not have me do "nasty" things?  I loved them.  They loved me.  But, they were mistresses.  They enjoyed dominating me.

The entire day slipped away as I struggled with my dilemma.  Still undecided, I slipped into bed.  I suffered through a very restless night.


                       *****************


Rain was beating fiercely against the window and cascading down the glass.  The wind howled as the torrential downpour continued relentlessly.  The ducks frolicked on the pond, oblivious to the harsh weather.  The climate in Cathryn O'Hara's office did not seem much better.  I squirmed in the leather chair as I peered across the desk at my lovely boss.  Nicole DeLeon sat near her partner, to one side of the desk.  They appeared as reluctant to hear my answer, as I was reluctant to give it.

"If you would like more time to consider your decision, we can wait until you return from California."  The words tumbled awkwardly from the redhead's lips.  

My desire to serve her was causing considerable anguish for her and the other ladies.  Her face showed a strain that I had never seen her suffer before.

I cleared my throat.  "That will not be necessary My Beautiful Loving Countess.  This sissy slut trusts you and Lady Nicole to train and protect him."

Both women looked at me with a hint of surprise on their faces.  They must have figured I would change my mind.  They had tried to show me the bad side of submission, so that I could make the right choice.

"Your sissy slut believes his mistresses will treat him well.  He still desires to serve and please you with all of his strength."  

"Very well!"  Cathryn O'Hara said calmly.  "Your training will start Friday night.  You will serve at Tara Glen the entire week and leave on Sunday evening."  She paused, staring wickedly into my eyes.  "Make sure your staff is prepared for your absence."  

"Yes, My Beautiful Loving Countess."  I stated.  "Your sissy slut will be ready."

"He'd better be!"  Her voice was firm and demanding.  "And, make sure you are ready for your flight to California on Monday morning.  Mistress Mandy will meet you at the airport.  You will accompany her for business and pleasure."

"Yes, My Beautiful Loving Countess."  I stated.  "Your sissy slut will serve her as you wish."

"I'm sure he will."  Her tone sounded accusing, almost jealous.  "He seems to like pleasing her very much."

"With all due respect, he prefers to please his own mistresses much more."  I retorted.

"And so he shall."  She mused as she waved her hand for me leave the office.  "And so he shall!"



Chapter 5 - Prepare to Meet Thy Destiny


I had four days to prepare for my prolonged absence from home and work.  I would spend nine days in training at the mistresses' mansion.  The very next day, I would leave for Los Angeles to accompany Mistress Mandy as she organized her new West Coast Empire.  I would not be home for over three weeks.  I prepared the house for the long idle period.  I delegated all my business responsibilities to my staff.  I had everything ready to pack for the trip to Los Angeles.  

I arrived at the front gate of Tara Glen at one minute to seven on Friday evening.  The gates opened and I drove along the winding, tree-lined drive to the front of the large estate.  It was a beautiful Greek revival home, typical of a southern plantation.  It looked very grand for the Midwest.  As I approached the front of the house, a young woman in a maid's outfit directed me to pull to the rear of the house.  I parked the car and walked toward the young lady.

"I am Cindy, a slave of The Countess.  You may call me Cin, everyone else does."  She smiled.  "You will always park here, unless otherwise instructed.  You will enter through the servant's door.  It is Mistress Martha's command."

"Yes, Cin."  I answered.  "I will remember."

"You have little choice but to remember," she replied.  "The punishment for forgetting is very severe."

We stood briefly outside the door, looking at each other with mutual curiosity.  She was a short brunette, probably five feet, four inches tall.  Her eyes were large and brown.  She was very shapely.  Her breasts were fairly large.  She was very pretty.

"You can look me over later," she grinned as I startled to reality.  "The mistresses will be angry if we keep them waiting."

I followed her through the door, admiring her wiggle the entire way.  We walked through a hallway and entered the den. 

Cin stopped and bowed her head as she stood at attention.  Actually, it was more like a military parade rest.  Her feet were spread at shoulder's width.  Her knees were bent ever so slightly to prevent fainting.  Her back was straight.  Her arms were folded behind her back.  Her only movement was the slow heaving of her chest as she breathed.

I stopped beside her, struck a similar pose, and bowed my head.  I gazed around the room while keeping my head down.

My welcoming committee sat in plush chairs, sipping tea.  The Countess, Lady Nicole, Lady Colleen, The Princess, and another woman I guessed to be Mistress Martha.

Cathryn O'Hara, my boss, was an extremely attractive, elegant, sophisticated woman.  Descended from Irish nobility, she insisted her slaves call her Countess Cathryn.  She was in her mid-forties.  She was rather tall, probably six feet.  Her long, red hair was braided into a long ponytail, then coiled into a "bun".   Her grayish-green eyes always pierced right through me.  A few very feint freckles sprinkled her otherwise perfect, white complexion.  She was very shapely, and had large breasts.

Nicole DeLeon was a very athletic-looking, very beautiful black woman.  She spoke with an accent that appeared to be Caribbean.  Her long, black, kinky hair was pulled back behind the ears, then fell far down her back, almost to her waist.  Her deep black eyes and ebony skin were quite stunning.  Her ancestry included Jamaican royalty, which prompted her to use the name Lady Nicole.  She also was called "The Caribbean Lioness."

Shandra Stone, was the Administrative Assistant to Ms. O'Hara.  The tall, athletic young woman appeared to be in her early twenties.  Her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders.  Her eyes were a soft blue, almost the color of a mountain lake.  She wore a green dress that accentuated her ample breasts and rounded hips.  Her skirt stopped just below her knees, revealing strong, yet beautiful calves.  She was the daughter of Ms. O'Hara's college roommate, Queen Xandra.  Princess Shandra was heir to the throne of her Amazon island nation.

When I first met Colleen O'Connor she was the night shift security guard.  She was also the company pilot.  I later learned she was the boss' niece.  She was now the third partner in the firm.  She was a stunning redhead, a trait that ran in the family.  She was very shapely.  She was rather tall; probably five foot, ten inches.  She was slender, maybe one hundred and twenty pounds.  Being the niece of The Countess, the slaves called her Lady Colleen.

The other woman stood and approached me.  She was an older woman, probably in her mid fifties.  She was wearing a knee-length, blue dress.  Her brown hair was streaked with strands of gray.  She was medium height with a slightly plump figure.  She was not at all attractive.  In fact she was homely.  

She glanced at Cin and nodded her head.  Cin immediately walked to the corner of the room and stood with her head bowed.

"I am Mistress Martha."  The lady spoke with authority in her voice.  She grabbed my chin in her left hand and raised my head.  She stared straight into my eyes.  "I will have the pleasure of training you."  She grinned, an evil grin.  "And it had better be a pleasure!"

She released my chin and began to rub my cheek with her finger.  She quickly glanced up and down my body.  Then, she stepped back.

"Strip!" her voice commanded.

I quickly removed my clothes and folded them neatly in a pile by the doorway.  I stepped back into my position with my head bowed.  She slowly stroked my chest and shoulders as she scanned my body with her eyes.

"Rather old, and a little flabby."  She pronounced as she surveyed her new pupil.  "Mistress Martha knows how to tone that body."  She turned her head toward the corner where Cin was standing.  "Tosha!"  She said, command was in her voice.

A tall, slender black woman moved from behind Cin.  She was dressed in a maid's outfit that matched Cin's.  She was carrying a silver tray.  She approached Mistress Martha and stopped, head bowed.  She held the tray before her mistress.

Mistress Martha reached out and removed one leather wrist cuff from the tray.  She gently grabbed my right arm and fastened the cuff to my wrist.  Next she cuffed my left wrist.  She took a pair of leather ankle cuffs from the tray and bent down.  She fastened a cuff around each ankle.  She rose to a standing position.  She took a black studded collar from the tray and slowly fastened it around my neck.  She removed the last item from the tray, a leash.  She clipped it onto the collar.

"Kneel!" was her one word command.

I quickly sunk to my knees.  My arms were at my sides.  My head was bowed.  Without a word, the mistress pushed me back so my butt rested on my heels.  She gently took my left arm and positioned my hand above my knee with the palm up.  She likewise placed the right hand.

"This is the proper position when I command you to kneel."  She raised my chin and gazed deep into my eyes.  "Remember this position correctly or you will be punished."

Tosha had returned to her position next to Cin.  I was the center of attention.  I tried to adjust to the unnatural position of my hands and arms.  It was already uncomfortable.  Mistress Martha stood before me with her arms crossed.

"Okay, slave," she snarled.  "Prepare to meet your destiny."


Chapter 6 - When You Read You Begin With A-B-C


"On your hands and knees."  The command was stern yet softly spoken.  "Follow me."

With a gentle tug of the leash, I was following Mistress Martha through the mansion.  She led me on a grand tour of the main floor, several large rooms.  Finally satisfied that I had mastered the technique of crawling, she led me down a flight of concrete stairs into the dungeon.  I hurried on my hands and knees trying to keep up.  The rough stone floor of the dungeon scraped my knees until they were bright red color.  We stopped in the middle of the room.

"You will call me Mistress."  She barked the command like a drill sergeant.  "Do you understand?"

"Yes Mistress," I mumbled.

"Yes Mistress what?"  She screamed in anger.

"Yes Mistress, your sissy slut understands."

"Very good for a stupid slave."  She quipped.  "You will refer to yourself as slave or sissy slut.  Never say I or me.  Understood?"

"Yes Mistress, your sissy slut understands."

"Never look at anyone unless told to do so.  Understood?"

"Yes Mistress, your sissy slut understands."

"Never speak unless you are asked a question.  Understood?"

"Yes Mistress, your sissy slut understands."

"Good!"  She exclaimed softly.  "You follow the rules and obey my every command, and we will get along just fine."  She paused momentarily.  "But, you screw up and I'll make you so miserable you will wish you were dead!"

"Your pathetic sissy slut will try his best."  I mumbled in fear.

She slapped my face with a vicious right palm.  "Why are you talking?"  She glared at me.  "Who asked you a question?"  Another short pause.  "I see my arrogant little slave thinks he knows more than his mistress."

She glared into my eyes as tears slowly dribbled down my cheeks.  She jerked on my leash and pulled me to my feet.  She dragged me by the leash to a bondage horse.  She spread my feet and clasped each ankle to the supports of the base.  She pulled me forward with my chest resting on the horse.  She pulled my arms downward and chained each wrist to the base of the horse.  My ass stuck up in the air.  My face was looking straight into the room.  She walked to a cabinet and pulled out a tongue press.  She turned and approached my face.  Panic filled my body.

"Please Mistress, don't use that on me!"  I screamed in desperation.  "I'm... your sissy slut is very sorry.  He will not screw up again.  Please!"

"Quit talking!"  She grabbed my chin.  "Stick out your tongue."

She fastened the wooden press onto my tongue, tightening the wing nuts tightly.  My tongue was pulled painfully through my lips.  The wooden slats squeezed tightly on the throbbing muscle.  The slats also bit deep into my lips and cheeks.  The press is a very painful and very cruel punishment.  I tried to keep my tongue still.  Every movement jerked the base of my tongue deep in my throat.  Every movement rubbed the wood against my cheeks and lips.

"I understand my slave has experience with the tongue press."  She rubbed her right index finger under my chin.  "I would think he would have learned a valuable lesson."

She reached her right hand forward and grabbed a big clump of my hair.  She pulled my face upward and glared into my eyes.

"My slave thinks he knows what to do.  He thinks he understands.  He is an arrogant fool!"

She dropped my head.  She walked to the cabinet and rummaged for a moment.  She selected her weapon and turned back to me.  As she walked toward me, I saw the item in her hand.  It was a riding crop.  I knew I would batter my tongue if I screamed.  Yet, I knew I could not be quiet if she whipped me with the crop.

She rubbed the crop teasingly across my shoulders and back.  She lightly tapped my butt with the rod.  She grabbed my hair and pulled my face up to hers.

"My slave knows what happens if he screams?"

I nodded my head as my eyes pleaded for mercy.

"He doesn't want to pull his tongue out, does he?"

I shook my head.

"My slave knows nothing.  He is ignorant.  He is stupid.  He is foolish."  

She grabbed my nose between her thumb and finger.  I gasped for air through my tortured mouth.  

"I could cause my slave great pain if I whipped him with his tongue pressed."  She mused at the possibilities as she rubbed and poked my genitals with the crop.  "But, since he is learning, I will be merciful this time."

She walked behind me.  She probed my cock and balls with the rod.  She lightly flicked the crop against my balls.  I gasped as the impact startled me.  It didn't hurt, just startled me.  But, my tongue yanked against the wooden slats, sending sharp spasms into my throat.

"My slave must start at the beginning."  She hissed as she held my nose closed.  "My slave must learn the most basic manners."  She twisted my nose as she released her grip.  "My slave must be taught just like a child learning to read."

She turned and walked out of the room.  I heard her singing, "When you read you begin with A-B-C, with a slave you begin with 'Mistress Please!'"  


Chapter 7 - It's Only The Beginning


I was left sprawled over the bondage horse.  I was completely naked except for my cuffs and collar.  My tongue was brutally pressed and pulled by the evil contraption.  I was thankful she had shown me mercy.  I remembered the excruciating pain I had suffered last week.  This was merciful.

About an hour passed as I struggled not to hurt myself.  I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.  It was several sets of footsteps.  I glanced up to see a procession of women enter the room.

Mistress Martha entered first.  She was wearing a black leather teddy with thigh-high leather boots, leather wristlets, and a leather choker.  Her hair was pulled into a bun.  Her eye shadow was dark brown.  Her lipstick and fingernails were black.  She was an erotic, yet frightening sight.

The other four ladies entered the room.  They were wearing sheer nightgowns.  Each was beautiful and sexy.  They drifted towards a corner of the dungeon that had a table and six chairs.  They sat down and began to chat.

The two slaves followed the ladies into the dungeon.  They had removed their maid uniforms and were in cuffs and collars.  Cin had milky white skin and long brown hair.  She was petite, with slender legs, curvy hips, a slim waist, and large breasts.  Tosha's skin was dark brown.  Her black, kinky hair was cut into a short "Afro."  Her tall, lanky body was slender, yet very curvy.  Her breasts were small, but very firm.  

The slaves hastily slipped through a doorway and returned shortly with tea and cookies.  They served the ladies at the table.  They then moved to the wall and knelt, palms up, awaiting further orders.

The five mistresses were sitting in the corner, sipping tea and talking.  They acted as if I was not present.  It is very frustrating for a slave to be helplessly bound, in torment, and to be totally ignored by his mistress.  In this case, it was his mistresses.  All of them acted as if I did not exist.  I grunted as best I could through the wooden splint on my tongue.  Mistress Martha silenced me with a look that could bore a hole through a mountain.  The other four ladies never even glanced my way.

Another hour passed as the tea party continued.  I could not understand the conversation.  I just heard their voices in a garbled drone.  No doubt, they were conspiring to make my life miserable.  I realized the tongue press was already doing precisely that.  My tongue was cramping, causing the slats to further punish my cheeks.  My throat was dry.  What little saliva I produced was very difficult to swallow without pulling my tongue.

Mistress Martha stood and walked slowly, seductively toward me.  The look in her eyes was not seductive, but was stern.  She grabbed a handful of my hair and raised my hair.  Her eyes glared at mine.

"Has my slave learned not to talk without permission?"  She asked sarcastically.

I nodded my head.

"I will remove the press," she said.  "But, if you talk again, I'll gag you with the largest penis-gag you've ever seen."

She loosened the wing nuts and slid the wooden slats off of my tongue.  I slowly pulled the swollen mass back into my mouth.  The muscle was bruised and tender.  The base of my tongue was sore, as was my throat from the constant pulling.  She unclasped my wrist cuffs from the base of the horse.  I slowly straightened into a standing position.  She moved behind me and unhooked my ankles.  She stood and reached for my leash.  She led me around the horse, into the center of the room.  She yanked the chain downward, forcing me to my knees.

"Clean my boots!"  She barked.  "And I want them spotless."

I leaned forward and began to lick her boots with my wounded tongue.  The boots were fairly clean; at least they had no mud or dirt on them.  I licked both boots to the ankles.  I started to work up her left boot, but she stopped me.

"It will take all night if I let you clean the tops."  

Her voice was more irritated than it was merciful.  But, she was right; it would take forever to lick thigh-high boots clean.  At least for now, she had other ideas.  She pulled my leash, bringing me to my feet.  She led me to the back wall of the chamber.  She raised my arms and clipped my wrist cuffs onto a hook.  She clipped my ankles to hooks in the wall.  My legs were spread shoulder width.  My arms were pulled tightly above my head.  I was completely defenseless.

She walked to a row of whips and crops hanging on an adjacent wall.  She selected a cat-of-nine-tails.  She returned to me, menacingly slapping the 'cat' in her palm.  An evil gleam filled her eyes.  An equally evil smile graced her blackened lips.

"You have nine days to convince me to keep you."  She rubbed the 'cat' across my chest.  "If you fail to please me, you will be cast out like the garbage you are."

She turned to walk away, then turned quickly and flipped the whip with her wrist.  I was totally unprepared.  The nine little leather knots caught me across the chest.  

"Aaaaggggghhhhhhh!"  I blurted in surprise.

"Is my new slave not able to control his pain?"  She asked in a mocking tone.

"Yes Mistress," I answered.  "I was just startled."

"Who was just startled?"  Her voice was suddenly angry.

"Your slave is very sorry, Mistress."  I babbled for words that might sooth her anger.  "Your slave was startled."

"So, my slave likes pain?"

"No Mistress.  He endures pain to please his mistresses."

"But, I'm told he gets excited by pain?"

"Yes Mistress."  I still felt slightly shamed at this truth.  "Your slave gets very excited by pain and bondage."

"But, the important question is whether my slave can excite me with his pain."

"He wishes to please his Mistress in any way she wishes."  I stated calmly.

"That is good, because he had better please me!"

To emphasize her point, she raised her arm and lashed forward with a wicked blow across my chest.  Angry red welts erupted where each of the nine tails dug into my flesh.  I gasped, but did not moan or scream.  Mistress Martha seemed pleased that I managed the pain.  Then, she began to smile.  She was looking at my stiff cock.

"You should prove to be a very interesting slave."  She muttered softly.  Then she moved close to my face.  "You can get as excited as you wish.  But, you'd damned well not cum."

She eased away from my face and slashed a backhanded blow across my thighs.  Fiery red welts appeared on my inner thighs from the torment of the leather strands.  I hissed again to control the pain.  My cock throbbed as my erection was full.

"My pathetic little pussy really does love pain."  She stated with amusement.

She delivered several more lashes on my arms, chest, and thighs.  Each blow stung more than its predecessor did.  Each blow weakened my resistance.  Each blow drove me closer to orgasm.  She continued to watch my dick bounce and throb as each blow sent waves of ecstasy through my body.  Then, she backed away.

"I told you that you can't cum."  She chided, half scolding, half taunting.  "You've had enough for now."

She turned and walked to the table.  She sat down and poured a cup of tea.  She joined the others in conversation.  Once again, I was ignored.  I stood against the wall with my arms still pulled high above my head.  My tongue throbbed from the bruises inflicted by the press.  My body burned from the fiery welts that enveloped it.  Worse, my cock throbbed in frustration.  Minutes seemed like hours as sexual frustration tortured my body.  My erection slowly faded, to be replaced by a lustful ache throughout my groin.

I guess an hour passed while I hung against the wall.  It was getting late for a working person, probably near eleven o'clock.  I had spent most of my first four hours at Tara Glen in bondage and torture.  My body was growing weary of fighting the pain.  I slumped against the wrist cuffs as my knees buckled in fatigue.  The mistresses casually watched my struggle, much as they would a TV program.

Torturous minutes passed.  

Finally, Mistress Martha stood and approached me.  She released my feet from the wall and reattached a six-inch hobble chain to my ankle cuffs.  She reached up and released my arms from the hook.  She gracefully spun me around and reattached my wrists behind my back.  She refastened my leash to my collar and led me across the dungeon.

At the front of the dungeon, on the opposite side of the door from the table, was another doorway.  We passed through it and into a small room.  The room was like a medieval jail.  The room had stone walls.  Along one wall was a row of eight small cells.  Each cell was divided from the next by another stone wall.  The front of each cell had a four-foot wide door of iron bars in the middle of more stone wall.  Inmates could not see each other, but from my vantagepoint, I could see that all eight cells were empty.  I was marched to the very last cell.  The door was opened.  I was pushed in.  My leash was removed and a four-foot chain was clasped to my collar.  I could lie on a lumpy straw mat, but could not stand.  With my hands clasped behind my back and my legs hobbled together, I settled in for the night.

"No talking."  Mistress Martha's command was brief.  "You will be allowed to relieve yourself and be bathed tomorrow.  Sweet dreams!"

She turned and left the area.


Chapter 8 -  Good Morning Sunshine


I awoke on Saturday morning to a loud clattering sound.  Mistress Martha was standing outside my cell.  She was dressed in her black leather bustier and boots.  She was banging on the bars with a metal rod.

"Good morning, Sunshine!  Get your worthless ass up!"  Her first words reassured me.  "I'm going to let you potty and give you a bath."

My body was stiff from the crude sleeping arrangements.  I struggled to get to my knees.  My hands were bound behind me, and the chain preventing me from standing.  It was a serious battle just to rise.  She removed the chain from my collar and attached the leash.  She also freed my hands. 

"Hands and knees dog!"  She ordered as she tugged the leash.

I dropped to all fours and followed her into the end of the jail.  A ninth stall was at the end of the jail, near the doorway.  It had no bars.  It had a large hose looped on the wall and an open drain in the middle of the floor.

"Hike your leg to pee.  Squat to shit.  You stupid mutt."  She shook her head in disgust.  "Stupid dog isn't even house trained yet!"

I had learned enough in the past several months to know I should not waste an opportunity.  I hiked my leg and pissed all over myself.  I squatted and voided my bowels on the floor.  It seemed crude, but it was an order.  It might be the only chance I would get all day.

Mistress Martha seemed pleased to watch me humiliate myself.  She finally decided I had finished relieving myself.  She took my leash and pulled me to my feet.  She hooked my leash to a clasp dangling from the ceiling.  I was not being hung, but I couldn't bend much.  She reattached my hands behind my back.

She took the hose from the wall, turned it on, and blasted me with ice cold water.  I almost hung myself as I stumbled in shock.  I squealed in protest as I desperately sought refuge from the brutal spray.  She hosed me from head to foot, cleansing me of sweat, dried blood, and stale urine.  She took a cloth and gruffly washed my butt.  Then, she rinsed me once more.

I stood shivering in the open stall.  I was defenseless.  I was freezing.  I was humiliated.

Mistress Martha released the leash from the clasp.  She gently tugged on the leash, causing me to lurch forward.  I quickly regained my balance as she led me into the main chamber.  I glanced at the table in the corner.  It was unoccupied.  The two of us were alone in the dungeon.  She stopped in the middle of the room and gently pulled downward on the leash.  I clumsily sank to my knees near two metal bowls.  One bowl was filled with tepid water.  The other was filled with ground chicken and ground vegetables.  The food looked very nutritious and had a wonderful aroma of several herbs.

"Mistress, may a slave speak?" I queried.  She grinned and nodded her permission for me to speak.  "Mistress, your slave thanks you for this wonderful food."

"My slave is very welcome," she replied.  A smile briefly crossed her lips, then was replaced with a stern gaze.  "Now, hurry and eat your food.  You have much to do this morning."

I knelt forward, falling face first into my food.  I lapped it with my tongue, enjoying the flavor.  It was very tasty.  After reading about slaves being fed canned dog food (or even worse, cat food), I was extremely grateful to have a delicious meal.

Finally finished with my meal, I struggled back to my kneeling position with my hands still clasped behind me.  My face and hair were covered with grease and small crumbs of meat.  I must have looked very comical.  I think Mistress Martha thought so.  She struggled to keep her face looking stern.

"For Christ's sake, what a disgusting mess you are!"  She scolded me, but did not really seem upset.  "I'll never understand why Cat wants a filthy animal like you around this house."

She grabbed the handle of the leash and pulled me to me feet.  We returned to the shower stall.  She let loose of the leash.

"Stand still!"  She instructed.

I let out a shrill scream as the ice cold water blasted my face.  She thoroughly rinsed the food from my face and hair.  

She stepped behind me and unclasped my hands.  She grabbed the damp towel from my earlier shower and tossed it to me.  I dried my face and hair.  I quickly sponged the water from my body.

"Hang the towel over there."  She nodded toward a small hook in the wall.

I hastily draped the towel on the hook.  I bowed my head and walked to Mistress Martha.  I sank to my knees with my hands resting palm up on my thighs.  She patted me on the head.

"Good Boy," she whispered as she continued patting my head.  "There may be hope for you yet."


                   *********************


My knees were bright red as they scraped across the stone of the dungeon floor and stairs.  The carpeting of the den aggravated the raw flesh even further.  Mistress Martha led me into the center of the room, next to Cin and Tosha.  I assumed the slave's kneeling position.

My four loving mistresses sat in the chairs, enjoying a lively conversation.  They never gave a glance at the two slaves kneeling in the room.  They never seemed to notice me awkwardly crawling before them.  They continued to talk as if we never existed.

My newest mistress stood in front of me.  Her gray-streaked brown hair was damp and unruly from the splatters of my showers.  I glanced upwards at her face.  I no longer saw her as homely.  I saw in her an inner beauty that I had noticed several times in our brief acquaintance.  A stern mistress she could be.  But, her personality included a charm, a sense of humor, and a hint of compassion.

Her gaze shifted to me.  I quickly lowered my eyes to avoid punishment.  If she saw me looking at her, she never acknowledged the fact.  She folded her arms behind her and began pacing slowly in front of us, like a Nazi prison commandant in the movies.  She stared straight ahead, not looking directly at us.  She stopped in front of me and turned towards me.

"Do you know what you are slut?"  Her voice was filled with contempt.

"Yes Mistress, this slut is a slave," I replied.

"No!"  She corrected me.  "You are a lowly male slave.  You are the lowest life form on the Earth.  You are lower than a worm."  She scowled at me in mock disgust.

"In fact," she continued, "you are so lowly that you must obey any woman.  You even have to obey the two sluts kneeling next to you."

She motioned to the two women to stand.  They rose to their feet with their heads still bowed.

"Kiss their feet to show your subservience!" 

I spun to one side and slowly, respectfully kissed Tosha's feet.  Then I slowly turned to Cin and kissed her feet.  I then turned and kissed the feet of my new mistress.

"Very good!"  Mistress Martha praised me as she patted my head.  "For the rest of this week, you will refer to yourself as 'this lowly male slave.'  Do you understand?"

"Yes Mistress, this lowly male slave understands."

"Slave, do you know what this is?"  She reached to the coffee table and retrieved a bright red plastic device.

I studied the device carefully.  It looked like plastic gates of hell with a plastic ball separator built into it.  It had seven rigid plastic rings, each one progressively smaller than the previous one.  Each ring was attached to the others by two rigid plastic bars.  It curved downward like a banana.  It also had a small rigid plastic cage that encircled the scrotum with a hard plastic loop that separated the balls.  The entire assembly fastened around the genitals with a larger plastic ring.  It appeared to snap together so that it could not be removed.

"This lowly male slave believes it is some kind of cock and ball cage."  I mumbled in fear.

"Very good!"  She exclaimed sarcastically.  "You may not know just how brilliant the lovely Princess Shandra really is.  She invented this device.  She has it patented.  It comes in stainless steel for everyday use.  But, we selected plastic for you."  She smiled wickedly at me.  "Would you like to guess why?"

"Your lowly male slave has no idea, Mistress."  I replied meekly.  Metal or plastic, it appeared very evil to me.

"We chose plastic for you so that you would not set off airport metal detectors."  Her smile grew wider and more wicked.  "It will be just as frustrating as the metal one.  It's just as secure.  And if you get excited, it's just as painful."

I gulped.  I knew how painful ball separators could be.  I could only imagine the additional torment of having my cock swell against the curved restrictions of the gates of hell.

"Stand up so I can put it on you."  The eagerness in her voice seemed intimidating.

I rose to my feet.  My eyes silently pleaded with her for mercy.  She frowned at me as I remembered the rule and lowered my eyes.  She slid the rings over my cock.  She lowered the ball separator and clicked the large ring around my genitals.  I was firmly locked in place.  My balls immediately began to swell around the separator bar.  In a few seconds, my cock began to grow inside the gates.  Before I could begin to get a decent erection, the gates squeezed my bowed cock.  The pain was unbelievable.   My erection immediately began to shrink.

"It's beautiful!  The red is such a lovely contrast to your skin."  She grinned.  "You cannot get a full erection without great pain.  You also cannot pee without squatting.  I think you'll just love the way this beautiful little contraption keeps you out of trouble."  

She waved a red plastic key in front of me.  

"This is the only way out of it.  I think we'll keep this someplace safe."

She pulled the top of her bustier away from her large breasts.  She tucked the key safely into her cleavage.  She flashed an evil grin.  She winked at me, a sinister wink if ever there was one.  She turned and joined her friends in a cup of tea.

I stood with my arms folded behind me, my legs spread at shoulder's width, and my head bowed.  I had this strange feeling I was not going to like my new attire.


Chapter 9 - Workin' on a Chain Gang


So far, I had been at Tara Glen for about fourteen hours.

I had been tongue pressed for the first four hours.  It was my own fault.  I had talked without permission.  Mistress Martha had made her point very clearly.  I seriously hoped my second encounter with the tongue press would be my last.

I had spent a brief time being lightly flogged with a cat-of-nine-tails.  The tails were leather and did no serious damage.  They did leave several burning welts on my chest and thighs.

I had slept on the floor of a dungeon cell.  I had been chained such that I could not stand, but could move around some.  It was not comfortable, but I was a slave that did not need comforts.

            ************************

I had envisioned my nine days at Tara Glen to be a little menial work and a lot of kinky play.

I could not have been more wrong!

From the first Saturday morning until the next Saturday morning, my routine was very constant.  Plenty of work, and no play.  I was not allowed one sexual moment the entire week.  I was neither allowed pleasure, nor allowed to pleasure my mistresses.

I wore nothing except my black leather wrist and ankle cuffs, my black leather collar, and my bright red plastic cock and ball cage.  

The cage never allowed me a full erection and was quite uncomfortable.  I just could not get used to the feel of it pressing against my genitals.  The cage was most uncomfortable when something would get me aroused.  The most common source of arousal was working side-by-side with two beautiful, naked slaves.  Just being near the smooth-skinned beauties would get my thoughts focused on sexual fantasies.  Just as quickly, the cage would bring me back to the painful reality of my position.

Saturday and Sunday, all five women were home.  But, during the workweek, only Mistress Martha was home.  I really never had any contact, physical or verbal, with the four mistresses I knew so well.  They ignored me most of the time.  They never spoke to me.  I was never allowed to approach or speak to them.

Each day I awoke in my cell.  I was allowed five minutes to potty.  I was hosed down with ice cold water.  I dried myself with a small towel.

Each day Cin and Tosha served three meals and two teas to any of the ladies that were in the house.  I was not allowed to serve meals or tea to the ladies.  Instead, I was required to kneel in the center of the room.  The ladies would admire me as a centerpiece.  I personally would rather serve food.  Kneeling for long times can become very uncomfortable.  But, my opinion was never considered.

I was fed three times a day, after the mistresses were finished eating.  I was taken to the dungeon, where I would kneel with my hands bound behind me.  I would eat from a metal bowl filled with a very delicious mixture of chicken, vegetables, and spices.  It tasted so good that I never really grew tired of eating the same food.  Not that it would have mattered.  

Following breakfast, the two female slaves and I cleaned the entire house.  

Next, we had lunch.   

After lunch, I was taken to an exercise room and thoroughly worked out.  Mistress Martha was convinced I needed to lose weight, firm up, and build my endurance.  The work out lasted one hour and consisted of intense aerobics and light lifting. 

Following our work out, we had a brief break with ice water to drink.

The afternoon was spent cleaning the dungeon.  Each day, the floor was mopped and all the fixtures dusted.  Each day, all the "tools" were cleaned.  Wooden "tools" were polished with special oil to keep them from drying out.  So were all the leather "tools."  I was allowed to oil several paddles and whips.  Cin was very adamant that they be cleaned properly.  She said they would be less painful if properly oiled.  Anything that reduced pain was important to all three of us.

Evenings, following dinner was my slave training time.  Mistress Martha would teach me additional rules and techniques for serving.  I was occasionally disciplined for failure to learn quickly.  But for the most part, I was learning what she taught and did not require severe punishment.

Mistress Martha spent hours each night teaching me the proper way to clean boots.  First I had to lick the entire boot clean.  You cannot believe how hard it is to clean a pair of thigh-high boots with your tongue.  Next, I would polish them with a rag and special oil to keep them soft and flexible.  It was really a lot of work to keep them properly cleaned.

Mistress Martha also had Tosha teach me how to give massages.  Tosha instructed as I ministered to my newest mistress.  Mistress Martha would tell me when something felt particularly good.  She would also let me know when something was not to her liking. 

The massage training was the other time that the cock and ball cage caused me the most discomfort.  What slave could give a thorough massage to his loving mistress without getting aroused?  Not this one!  Constantly throughout the massage, my cock would begin to swell.  The cage would bite into the expanding flesh.  The subsequent pain would kill my erection.  This process was repeated several times during each massage.

For the most part, Mistress Martha was very patient and loving.  I was truly beginning to love this woman as much as I loved the other mistresses.  Except for My Beautiful Loving Countess, who I loved more than any woman I had ever known.


Chapter 10 - The Cock Tease


The second Saturday morning began just like my previous days.  I was rudely awakened by metallic banging on my cell door bars.  I was taken into the shower stall and allowed to relieve myself.  I was showered in ice water and allowed to dry myself.  I then crawled upstairs to "entertain" the five mistresses during their breakfast.  Then, I was taken into the dungeon and fed my ground chicken delight.

At this point, my routine abruptly changed.

"Stay!"  Mistress Martha commanded.  With no further explanation, she left the dungeon.

I knelt with my butt on my heels, my palms up, and my head bowed. 

I waited.  And waited.  And waited.

Time flies when you're having fun.  

I was not having fun.  I was bored.  I was worried.  I was upset.  I was getting angry.

I slowly began to look around the dungeon.  This was a very well equipped dungeon.  The only light in the chamber came from torches mounted along two opposite walls.  Several chains with iron wrist cuffs hung along one wall.  A wooden X-frame stood in one corner.  An iron maiden stood in another corner.  A rack, complete with a ratcheted wench was near one wall.  A bondage/spanking horse stood near the rack.  A large bondage table stood in the center of the room.  Wall racks with whips, paddles, clamps, and other tools of pain were mounted at several places.

The door to the dungeon opened slowly.  I could not see who was coming into the chamber.  I assumed it was Mistress Martha.  I hoped I was not in trouble.  I did not remember doing anything to upset her.  The woman entered the room.  The door slowly closed.

Lady Colleen took slow, provocative strides toward me.  

Her appearance was absolutely stunning.  Her tall, shapely body was covered from her neck to her ankles by a long-sleeved, black, leather cat suit.  The suit had leather laces crisscrossing from the navel to her neck.  Leather laces crisscrossed down the inside of each leg, shaping the suit to her muscular legs.  There were snaps with silver studs on either side of her pubic area, probably for easy access to her most treasured spot.  She wore black ankle-high boots with three-inch heels.  Her bare hands were accented by black nail polish.  Her lips were covered with black lipstick.  Her eyes were shadowed in black.  Her red hair was braided into a French braid.

A shiver raced through my spine.  

Her beauty overwhelmed me.  

Her Gothic appearance frightened me.

Her appearance left no doubt as to her motives.  

She was here to have fun at my expense.

The leather-clad beauty slithered in front of me.  She stopped and reached her right hand to my chin.  She gently lifted my face until my eyes met her sparkling green eyes.  She giggled as another shiver raced through me.

"Is my little sissy slut afraid of his mistress?"  The words rolled off her lips as if she were a cat purring.

"Your lowly male slave was overwhelmed by your beauty Lady Colleen."  I stammered softly.

"Your compliment is amusing," she said softly.  "But fear is very appropriate for what I have in mind."

She grasped the end of my leash and pulled me to my feet.  She gently led me to the X-frame.  She lightly pulled downward on the leash.  I knelt with my palms upward.

She walked to a cabinet.  She carefully placed several items on a tray.  She slowly walked toward me, her hips swaying in a sensual rhythm.

"I need to keep you quiet."  Her voice had a hint of a giggle.  "I think you'll enjoy this part."

She reached to the tray and retrieved a large penis gag.  She unsnapped her crotch snaps and lowered the leather swatch from her pubis.  She slowly inserted the penis into her treasure cove.  Methodically she pumped the dildo in and out until she was moaning in ecstasy.  Minutes passed as the young red head pleasured herself with the penis gag.  Finally she gasped as a shudder transversed her sleek, leather-clad body.

She slowly removed the dildo from inside her.  She wiped her finger across the shaft.  Bringing the finger to her face, she smelled her juices while emitting a theatrical "Ahh."  She rubbed her finger under my nose, letting me get a good whiff of her love juices.  She brought the finger back to her own face.  With a covetous look, she popped the finger in her mouth, sucking on it for several seconds.

"Enjoy!"  Was all she said.  

She placed the dildo at my lips.  I slowly opened my mouth.  She quickly popped the juice-covered shaft into my mouth.  She quickly leaned forward, pressing her leather-covered breasts into my face, as she buckled the straps behind my head.

I really did not like the dildo in my mouth.  

But, I loved the pussy flavor she had added to it.

She appeared satisfied that I could not talk.  She did not want me begging for mercy.  I think she also wanted to humiliate me.  Any gag would prevent talking.  A penis gag reinforced my acceptance of anything she willed me to do.

She tapped my shoulder, and I raised to a standing position.  She positioned me with my back to the frame.  She gracefully lifted one hand and clasped my wrist cuff to a chain.  She repeated the process with my left hand.  She spread my feet and attached each ankle cuff to a hook on the frame.  Then she turned a small crank that pulled my arms taut along the upper bars of the frame.

I was now in a tight standing spread-eagled.  I was completely at her mercy.  Mercy?  Over the past few months, I had grown to expect none.

She reached to the tray and grasped a small packet.

God, no! I thought as I screamed into the gag.

She was opening the package to remove a drug patch.  I knew of two different drug patches the mistresses used.  There might be more, but I only knew of two.  The patches came from Queen Xandra's island.  

One patch was every man's fantasy.  It caused a man to be highly aroused, constantly erect, and multi-orgasmic.

The other patch was more sinister.  It drove a man to sexual hysteria for hours, while never letting him cum.

Her wicked smile told me all I needed to know.  She placed the patch just above my ankle.

"Don't get your hopes up!"  She chuckled.  "Of course, we both know what will get up."

I had visions of a drug-induced erection with no possible relief.  Then, I realized I was still wearing the cock cage.  The drug would cause a rock-hard erection.  But the cage would refuse to let it grow.  The resulting conflict of flesh and plastic was bound to be very painful.

Lady Colleen saw the terror fill my eyes.  She knew I would realize my dilemma soon enough.  She grinned as I mumbled in vain.

"Would you like the cage removed?"  She teased in a cat-like purr.

"Mmmmmeeeepppphhhhhh!!!!"  I screamed in reply.

"I didn't think you'd want it off."  Her eyes gleamed as mine bulged in panic.

"Well, it doesn't matter what you want, SLAVE."  She accentuated the word slave to further my humiliation.  "I need to get it out of my way, so it has to come off."

She produced a red key from the tray.  She giggled as she rubbed it under my nose.  Then she knelt before me.  She unlocked the cage and quickly removed the contraption from my genitals.

"Eeeeeeggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!"  I screamed.

The cage had restricted my balls for seven days.  I had forgotten how much it was hurting.  Immediately upon removal of the cage, blood surged back into my sac.  The resulting pain and tingling was devastating.

I tried to curl into a ball to protect my throbbing nuts.  But the X-frame gave me no quarter.  All I could do is stand still and moan.

Several minutes passed as Lady Colleen watched me moan into my penis gag.

Gradually, the pain eased into a bearable throb.  Finally the throb diminished to a dull ache.

I knew my relief was only temporary.  

The drug from the patch was now causing my cock to bulge.  Actually the erection was bigger and harder than normal.  While the larger size is good for my male ego, the frustration caused by not being able to cum slowly becomes maddening.

I knew of Lady Colleen's love for rope.  She had bound me in rope during our stay in the mountains months earlier.  What I didn't know was her love for CBT.

Not a good combination if you are a male slave helplessly bound to an X-frame.

"Have I ever told you how much I love rope?"  Her voice sounded so sensuous.

I nodded.  

"That's right, I have."  She acted disappointed, but then smiled.  "But, I bet I've never told you how much I love to torture pathetic little cocks like yours."

Pathetic little cock?  I'm not big, but I've never considered myself small.  Actually, with the drug causing my erection to be larger than normal, I thought I was a little better than average.

Oh shit!  Why am I so upset about her insult?  She is only trying to humiliate me.  What I need to worry about is her torture.

My attention quickly refocused on Lady Colleen.  She now knelt in front of me with several coils of cotton rope.

"You know how much pain I can cause with one ten-foot piece of rope?"  She asked knowing I couldn't answer.

She took the ends of the rope and folded the length in half.  She wrapped the rope very tightly one loop around my scrotum and tied a very secure knot.

"Aaaaghhhhhhhh!!!"  I groaned into the gag as sharp pain shot through my balls.

"Jeez, you little pussy!"  She taunted.  "What are you going to do when I really start causing you pain?"

Now, the two ends of the rope were each about five-foot long.  She took both ends and pulled them in front of my bag, then around each nut.  She tightened the rope and tied another knot.  Each nut was now tightly wrapped in one loop, while being separated from its partner.

It was uncomfortable, but didn't really hurt too much.

Unfortunately, she had barely started.

She took the two loose ends and began wrapping them tightly between the loop on my scrotum and my balls.  Each new loop was pulled very tight, causing considerable pain.

Each new loop also stretched my sac and began applying more pressure to my trapped balls.

After three pairs of loops, my balls were ready to explode.  The pain was gut wrenching.

She tightly wrapped on more pair of loops and tied the rope tightly.

I was groaning and screaming incoherently into the gag.  The pain was unbelievable.  I wanted to double over in pain.  My bonds would not budge.

Lady Colleen smiled at my suffering.  She leaned over and planted a peck of a kiss on my cheek.

She reached down and lifted the ends of the rope to my face.  Both ends were between three and four feet long.

"I have a lot of rope left."  She looked at me, acting bewildered.  "I wonder what I can do with it?"

She glanced down at the floor.  I could not see the spot she which attracted her gaze.  But, I remembered a large eyehook protruding from the floor between my legs.  It was large enough for the two ropes to slide through it.

She knelt with the two ends of the rope in her hands.  She pulled the ropes through the eyelet.  Several inches of rope extended out of the eyelet.  She tied the two ends together in a secure square knot.  The rope would not pull back through the eyelet.

The rope was not pulling on my balls.  My only pain at the moment was from the tight ropes squeezing and stretching my swollen orbs.

I knew that my torment was just beginning.  There were still several coils of rope lying in front of me.

The young red head reached for another coil of rope.  She tied one end of the rope to the loop of rope that passed through the eyelet.  She now had ten feet of rope to pull and stretch my balls.  She dropped the coil, sparing me the additional pain.  At least for now.

Lady Colleen stepped back several steps from my helpless body.  She gazed for several seconds.  Of course it seemed like hours to me.  She smiled and stepped back to me.

She took a coil of rope and began wrapping the rope around my leg and the X-frame from my ankle to my knee.  She repeated this with the other leg.  She then wrapped each arm from the wrist to the shoulder.  I had already been unable to move more than a few inches.  Now, I could barely flinch.

She stepped back again.  A wide, evil smile graced her beautiful face.  

"Much better!"  She chuckled as she congratulated herself.  "Just one more thing will make you look perfect."

She reached for another coil of rope.  She tied one end tightly around the base of my swollen cock.  She began wrapping the rope around my cock, looping the loose end inside of the previous loop.  This made each loop rotate in the opposite direction from the previous one.  It also tightly secured each loop around my cock.  The tight bondage hurt my shaft, especially in its engorged state.  When she had wrapped the entire length of my cock in the loops of rope, she still had about eight feet of rope hanging from the end.

I could not move.  My muscles were stiff from the taut spread-eagle.  My jaws ached from the penis gag.  My throat was very dry.  The gag had lost all of the wonderful flavor from Lady Colleen's orgasm.  It now tasted like plain, yucky rubber.

Of course my real problems were in my groin.  The rope around my cock was very painful.  The pain was like being pinched real hard on your arm or leg.  It hurt.  It hurt badly.  But, I could cope with it.

What I could not cope with was the gut-wrenching pain in my testicles.  The pain enveloped both balls.  It also shot into my stomach, causing cramping.  Every male doubles over in pain when his testicles are hurt.  I could not bend.  I was securely fastened to the X-frame.

As bad as the pain was, it was not my worst problem.  

The drug!  Yes, the drug from the little cloth patch on my ankle was now in full effect.  I was desperately in need of an orgasm.  Sexual frustration was steadily growing to the point of unbearable.  I had suffered this effect before.  I knew it would steadily grow worse as long as the patch was in place.  I truly think the drug could make a man go insane after several hours.


Chapter 11 - Life is a Bitch and Then You ...


I was very cognizant of the two lengths of rope that lie on the floor.  The other ends of those two ropes were attached to my genitals.  Lady Colleen could make my already miserable condition much worse by utilizing those ropes.

Instead, she chose to further my agony using two other tools.

She quickly left the room, entering the kitchen galley that the slaves used for serving meals and teas in the dungeon.  She returned through the door shortly carrying another tray.  I could not see what was on the tray.  She pulled up a stool and sat before me.

I quickly discovered that the first item on the tray was a bowl of ice cubes.

Lady Colleen took one cube from the bowl and slowly rubbed it against my swollen, inflamed testicles.  The cube began melting quickly from the heat of my tortured balls.  Soon enough, my balls were getting numb from the cold.  The throbbing, piercing pain of my bondage slowly eased.

Then she removed the ice cube.

Slowly, my testicles began warming from the pulsing flow of blood.  Tingling!  Itching!  The pain!  It seemed worse now than before she used the ice.  Tears flowed down my face as the pain overwhelmed my body's defenses.

Lady Colleen leaned back on the stool to survey my face.  Her wicked smile beamed with delight.  She giggled.  She made a mock pout as she saw my pain.

"Is my poor little baby crying?"  Sarcasm dripped from her mouth as she taunted me.  "Maybe his little balls are cold.  Maybe I should warm them up for him."

She reached to the tray and retrieved a handful of items.  I could not see them.

I smelled something hot.  It was a burning match.  I smelled something else.  It was a candle.  Now the match was extinguished as the smoldering sulfur pierced my nostrils.

"Nmmmphhhhhh!!!!  Mmeeeesssssssss!!!!!"  I pleaded.

Fire.  My biggest fear yet.  What was she going to do?

Hot wax?  

Close flame?  

Burn me?  God!  No!

I felt heat on my balls.  I smelled a new odor.  It was pungent.  It smelled familiar.  Burning hair!

She was burning the pubic hair from my balls.  The heat and smell were frightening.  So far there was no pain.

Little sparks of heat.  Getting hotter.  Dozens of little prickly hot spots.  Getting still hotter.

Ouch!  A little burn, then the spark dies out.  Panic.  Then another small burn.  And still another.  Ouch!  Shit!  Ouch!

What is happening?  The hairs must be burning up to my skin, burning a little spot, then dying from contact with my flesh.

God!  Please stop!  Ouch!  Oh!  Please!

The burning stopped.  The heat of the flame is gone.  The smell of a smoldering candlewick fills the air.

The fear, the panic, had been far worse than the pain.  Was I burnt?  Was all my hair gone?  What was happening?

I felt her fingers rubbing my engorged balls.  The motion was smooth.  There was no resistance from kinky hair.  My balls must be totally nude of hair.  Small spots all over my skin are tender.  Mild pains at each little touch.

What's happening?  Cold!  Another ice cube is being rubbed on my balls.  Relief!  The coldness soothes the little burns.  Ah!  It feels good.  The burning is gone.  The piercing pain in my balls from the ropes is easing from the cold.

Now the ice is too cold.  Please remove it.  Shivers run through me.  Please!  It hurts!  It's too cold!

She emitted another giggle.  Lady Colleen is enjoying my misery.  She knows the effects of the cold, then heat, then cold again.  She knows she is sending waves of pain and misery through my soul.  The bitch!

The cold is gone.  Thank God!

Pain is coming back.  Tingling!  Throbbing!  Please make it stop.

More tears began to stream down my already streaked cheeks.  I felt them briefly clinging to my cheekbone, then dripping away from my face.  I felt a stroke of a finger on my cheek.  She is wiping the tears away.  I try to focus my tear-filled eyes.

Lady Colleen is sucking my teardrops from her fingers.  She acts as though she relishes the salty tears.  Her face beams with pleasure.

I lose my focus again.  The pain is consuming my mind.  Please stop the pain.  Oh, please.  No more pain.  Please.

Oh, no!  The drug!  I need to cum.  Please let me cum.  I cannot stand it any more.  I just cannot wait.

I felt a soothing rubbing feeling on my balls.  It was a cream.  She is rubbing a salve on my balls.  The prickly burns are going away.  The pain and stinging fade.  It feels so good.

Please let me cum!

I was startled by a noise.  Someone else is in the room.  They were across the room, at the table.

"For God's sake Colleen" a voice cries out.  "That was so beautiful."

It is Mistress Martha.  She had been watching all of this.  She liked it.

"I'm so damn horny I could burst!"  Mistress Martha exclaims.

"Me too!"  My red headed tormenter replies.

My eyes begin to clear of the tears.  I focus.  

The two women are rolling on the dungeon floor.  They are pleasuring each other with their tongues.  I hang on my cross.  I watch as the two women, so different in age and size, bring each other to earth-shattering climaxes.

God!  I need to cum!  Please let me cum!


Chapter 12 - Time Flies


The two women slowly eased themselves to their feet.  They had remained lying together for several minutes, kissing and hugging.

I could hear them whispering.  I could understand only parts of the conversation.

"You'd better give him something to drink..." I heard Mistress Martha say.  "... Over four hours..." She said softly.  "... Sweaty and dehydrated..." She remarked.

Lady Colleen nodded.  The older woman was much more experienced with intense sessions.  She knew the dangers of over-extending a slave's endurance.

Mistress Martha walked over to the table and sat down in a chair.  She leaned back and fixed her eyes on me.  Her gaze appeared to be one of approval, almost admiration.  She knew I had just been through an incredibly intense session.  Was she actually impressed with the way I handled it?

Lady Colleen had slipped into the kitchen.  She returned with three glasses full of juice.  She handed one glass to Mistress Martha.  She took one glass for herself.  Both ladies sipped a few drinks of juice.

Finally, the young red head brought the third glass to me.  She sat it aside and began unbuckling my gag.

The gag left my mouth with a small pop.  My jaws were so tired, I could barely open wide enough for it to slide out.

I slowly worked my jaw.  The stiffness was unbelievable.  My mouth was too dry to talk.  My throat was slightly sore from dryness and the rubbing of the dildo.

Lady Colleen eased the glass to my parched lips.  I slowly sipped on the refreshing juice.  I finished the juice and the glass was removed from my lips.

Lady Colleen brought a finger to my lips.  "No talking."  She said softly.  "I won't gag you if you can be quiet."

I nodded.

I watched as my beautiful, young mistress returned to the table with the empty glass.  She sat down and sipped her juice.  The two mistresses softly chatted as I watched from my cross.


             **********


I found it very hard not to be impatient with the women.  I had been instructed not to talk.  I moaned softly from the cumulative tortures that racked my body.

My arms and legs were very tired from the standing spread-eagle I had endured for more than four hours.  My lips and jaws hurt from the prolonged wearing of the gag.  My cock was increasingly tender from the tight loops of rope that transversed it's entire length.  My balls were bruised from the brutal squeezing and stretching of their ropes.  The tiny pox of burns from the hair singeing had disappeared with the aid of the salve.  All in all, I was very miserable.

I also was incredibly horny!  The drug continued to seep through my skin and course through my body.  I would do almost anything to be allowed to cum.

Still, the ladies sipped their juice and chatted as if I was not even in the room.

Lady Colleen rose from her chair.  She walked ever so slowly toward me.  She may have had the sexiest walk I ever saw.  Her hips swayed ever so slightly.  Her sway was not a gaudy, whorish sway, but a subtle, sexy one.

"I almost forgot that there are some loose ends that need wrapped up."  She smiled at her pun.

I was too miserable to acknowledge the humor.  I moaned in agony as I tried to focus my vision on my mistress.

I felt a pull on the rope that attached to my nuts.  She pulled it very tight.

"Aaaaagggghhhh!"  My scream escaped in spite of my attempts to be quiet.

She tied it off to something I did not see.  The pulling was constant.  And agonizing.

She put her finger to my lips to let me know I could not talk.  She reached her lips to mine and gave me a very long, passionate kiss.  Her tongue probed my mouth, darting from one side to the other.  Despite my pain, my arousal was elevated to new heights.

She pulled away.

She reached down and grabbed the other loose end.  The rope was attached to my cock.  She pulled lightly on the rope.  My cock stretched a little.  She eased the tension on the rope.  My cock returned to its previous state.

She smiled as she used the rope to masturbate me.  It felt pretty good.  Unfortunately, it only caused my sexual frustration to grow even more unbearable.  The longer she pulled on the rope, the more crazed I became.

I whimpered loudly.

She chuckled.  "Does my little whore want to cum?"  She teased.

I had been instructed not to talk.  I moaned.  I whimpered.  I said nothing.

"You may beg me to cum."  She whispered.

"Please mistress!  Oh, God!  Please let me cum!"  I gasped through my dry, raspy throat.  "Please Lady Colleen!  Please let your sissy slut cum!"

Lady Colleen turned to Mistress Martha.  The older mistress shook her head.

"Please mistress?"  I begged in Mistress Martha's direction.  "Please"

Lady Colleen put her finger to my lips, stopping my plea.  She kissed me deeply on the lips.

"Sorry, love!"  She whispered.  "It just wasn't meant to be."

A long moan escaped my lips, much to the delight of the two ladies.

Lady Colleen walked to a cabinet.  She returned with two things in her hand.  A small ball gag and a blindfold.

I opened my mouth to accept the gag as she put it to my lips.  The small ball popped into place.  She leaned her breasts into my chest as she buckled the strap.  She put the blindfold in place, once again mashing her gorgeous breasts against me.  Even through the leather of her cat suit, her nipples were very hard.

I could no longer see.  My hearing became my only sense of where the two ladies were.  I heard footsteps.  The door opened, then closed.  Someone had left the dungeon.

Was I alone?  Was someone still watching?  Was it a trick?  Were both of them still here?

I could only guess.

I listened intently.  I heard nothing.  I felt lonely.  Abandoned!

I began to cry into my gag.  I was consumed by the pain ... the frustration ...  the need to cum ... and the isolation.

It was all too much.

Tears flowed freely down my face.  I sobbed violently.  My emotions totally consumed my very being.

			*****************

Hours passed as I hung on the X-frame.  

Occasionally someone would come into the dungeon.  I would hear footsteps on the stairs.  The door would creak open.  Footsteps would track across the floor.  Fingers would feel my hands and feet.  The same fingers would feel my cock and balls.  Satisfied that I was not in danger from loss of circulation, they would leave.  The door would close, and I was alone again.

I was too consumed by misery and sexual frustration to do any serious thinking.  I kept asking myself why I was doing this.  I could not come up with any logical reason.  But, I knew I loved it.

Finally, I felt my ropes being removed.

First, my cock was untied.  It tingled a little.  The feeling was uncomfortable, but not painful.

Next, my balls were released.  Oh, shit!  I cannot describe the range of painful sensations that shot through me.  I don't believe I have ever hurt so badly in my entire life.  I screamed.  I moaned.  I screamed some more.  Of course, the gag smothered all my efforts in to indistinguishable grunts and shrieks.  It took several minutes before I settled down.   The pain had become a dull throb of pain.

My blindfold and gag were removed.  Lady Colleen stood before me.  I had been so enveloped by my misery that I hadn't noticed her leather-encased beasts pushing against me.  

She smiled at me.  She leaned forward and gave me another very passionate kiss.

"You were so adorable!"  Her whisper was soothing.

I cannot remember my arms and legs being untied.  I cannot remember being carried to the shower.  I do remember being sprayed with warm water.  Lady Colleen lathered me with soap.  Her hands were smooth as she cleaned and massaged my skin.  My beautiful, young mistress dried me.

My cuffs and collar were fastened on my body.  They smelled fresh.  Apparently, they had been cleaned and treated by one of the slave girls.  

I was led to my cell.  A new mattress was in the cell.  It was considerably more comfortable than the thin mat I had used for the week.  

I collapsed into a sound sleep.

I was awakened by a gentle shaking of my shoulder.  Tosha was softly calling my name.  I slowly came to my senses.  Her pretty ebony-toned face came into focus.

I felt around my body.  My cuffs were on.  My collar was on.  My cage was on.  The lower half of my scrotum was bald.  My left foot was chained to the wall.  I had plenty of room to move around.

I sat up on the mattress.  Tosha was kneeling in front of me with a metal bowl in her hand.  She was trying to get a spoonful of chicken delight into my mouth.  I finally realized what was happening and opened wide.  I was fed a large meal of chicken delight and Gatorade.  Tosha told me I needed the Gatorade to rebuild my body salts.  

I had been on the X-frame for eight hours.  She was impressed that I could last that long.  She gave me a long massage, using oil that helped my muscles recover.  She told me the oil was from Queen Xandra's island.  When the massage was finished, she told me to get a good night's sleep.  I thanked her for the food and massage.  

She smiled.  "The pleasure was all mine."

We both chuckled as she left the cell.



Chapter 13 - Hear Ye! Hear Ye!


The next thing I remember is being awakened to the clanging of my cell bars and the voice of Mistress Martha.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!"  Her voice rang throughout the dungeon cellblock.  "We've got a busy day."

I was taken to potty.  I was given a lukewarm shower.  She inspected me for any injuries.  The lukewarm water and the inspection were unusual, only because of yesterday's intense session.

I was led upstairs to entertain the ladies while they enjoyed a leisurely Sunday breakfast.  Of course, my entertainment was to kneel, palms up during the entire meal.  Following the meal, I was led to the basement for my breakfast.  I was given chicken delight from a metal bowl while my hands were clasped behind me.

Once again, the routine was broken.

Mistress Martha washed my face, removing the chicken delight from my chin and hair.  

Instead of leading me upstairs to help clean, she had me stand.  My hands were unclasped and raised over my head.  My wrist cuffs were fastened to a chain hanging from the dungeon ceiling.  A short spreader bar was fastened to my ankle cuffs, holding my legs shoulder width apart.  I was blindfolded and gagged with a small ball gag.

"You just be a good boy and wait right here."  With those words, Mistress Martha left the dungeon.

I heard the dungeon door squeak closed.  I stood in darkness.


               *****************

It seemed like hours had passed as I helplessly stood in the dungeon.  I moved a little, but the chain holding my hands over my head allowed only a few inches of slack.  The spreader bar limited my legs.  I could spin around very slowly.  I flexed my knees to avoid cramping of my calves.  Otherwise, I was immobile.

The creaking of the dungeon door startled me.  Someone was coming.

My hearing had become more acute during my sightless period.  I heard footsteps.  There were several pairs of footsteps.  Everyone must be coming downstairs.

I did not hear chairs move.  I heard no rustling sound of ladies being seated.  Everyone was standing.

A single pair of footsteps approached me.  The spike heels of the person clacked against the stone floor in an intimidating rhythm.

A hand touched my shoulder.  

"Kneel."  It was Mistress Martha.

She slowly pushed me downward as the chain holding my arms eased downward with me.  I heard the light purring of an electric motor as it lowered the chain.

My knees touched the floor and the steadying hands of Mistress Martha released their grip on my torso.

"Sissy slut Drew," she began.  "You have expressed a desire to submit to the service of the mistresses of this household.  You have now spent eight days in submission to your mistresses.  You are now on your final trial to determine your worthiness."

Shivers raced through my body as the words registered in my mind.  One last trial and I would be a slave to the women I loved.

"I will now remove your gag.  You are to remain silent."  Her voice sounded regal.  The tone of command left no question of her authority.  "One word will cause your training to be terminated and you will be cast aside like garbage."

"Your next requirement is to kiss the pussies of the mistresses.  You are not to lick, just kiss."

Mistress Martha stepped forward.  I smelled leather.  As she pressed her hips into my face, I felt only skin and pubic hair.  I kissed her pussy with a long pucker.  She stepped away.

Another set of heels clacked on the floor.  Another pussy was pressed into my face.  I kissed it in the same manner as the first.  I repeated this procedure each time I heard heels clacking on the floor and felt a pussy pressed into my face.

I kissed eight pussies.  If only five mistresses were in the house, why had I kissed eight pussies?  Did they make me kiss Cin and Tosha as well?  That would only be seven.  Or were there other mistresses in the house?

"Sissy slut Drew, you have kissed the pussies of the mistresses."  Her voice still sounded like she was making official proclamations.  "The mistresses will now cast their vote for your acceptance as their slave."  She paused briefly for effect.  "One vote of 'nay' will end the balloting."

I waited.  I should have been confident, but I was very nervous.

"The chairperson, Mistress Martha by procedure casts the first vote and votes yeah."  Mistress Martha pronounced grandly.

"Countess Cathryn, how votes ye?"  The elder mistress queried.

"My vote is yeah."  My Beautiful Loving Countess replied firmly.

"Lady Nicole, how votes ye?"

"My vote is yeah."  The Caribbean Lioness replied.

"Your Royal Highness, Princess Shandra, how votes ye?"

"My vote is yeah."  My Kind and Gracious Princess replied.

"Lady Colleen, how votes ye?"

"My vote is yeah."  The lovely red head replied.

"Lady Sarah, how votes ye?"

"My vote is yeah."  The sister of the Countess replied.

My mind began to spin.  If Lady Sarah is present, then there are eight mistresses in the room.  Who are the last two?

"Marquesa DeSade, how votes ye?"

That answered my question.  The lovely Marquesa was here.  I had not seen her in months.

"My vote is yeah."  The Marquesa pronounced majestically.

"Lady Monique, how votes ye?"

"My vote is yeah."  The Marquesa's gorgeous young niece pronounced calmly.

Another shiver coursed my spine this one of relief and joy.

"Sissy slut Drew, you have been unanimously approved for servitude of the mistresses."  Mistress Martha was enjoying her role as chairperson.  She continued to over-dramatize her function.  "If you wish to enter the servitude of the seven mistresses and submit yourself to all women, even female slaves, you may signify by answering 'this lowly male slave will serve my mistresses.'"

Until now, I had thought of "me" and "I".  Slave talk had only been a game I was playing.  If I agreed to be their slave, "I" and "me" would cease to exist.  I took a deep breath.  I cleared the lump from my throat.

"This lowly male slave will serve his mistresses."  This lowly male slave stated clearly and proudly.

"By the unanimous consent of our mistresses, I declare you a servant to all females and pronounce you slave drew!"

This lowly slave's blindfold was removed.  He was still kneeling with his arms pulled over his head and his feet spread by the bar.  He looked around the room as tears filled his eyes.  One by one each woman came past him, hugging and kissing him.

Countess Catherine was first to greet him.  Her hug was firm and her kiss was passionate.  As she pulled away from her embrace, he saw a small tear trickle from her eye.  He can only assume it was a tear of joy.

Lady Nicole was the next to hug and kiss him.  The Marquesa followed her college roommates in extending him her best wishes.  Lady Sarah, Mistress Martha, Lady Colleen, and Lady Monique each filed past with hugs, kisses and tender words.

Princess Shandra was the last mistress to extend her greetings.  She hugged the lowly male slave fiercely and planted a kiss that almost took his breath away.  "I'm glad you're finally our slave, pussy boy!"  She hissed as a large grin spread across her face.

Lady Colleen stepped up to this lowly male slave and whispered, "I think you'll like this patch better than yesterday's."  She slapped a patch above his ankle.  "Believe me, you'll need this one."

Encouraged by the promise of things to come (or is that cum?) this lowly male slave patiently endured the process of being released from the bonds.  His ankles were freed first.  Finally his hands were unclasped from the chain.  Lady Colleen assisted him to his feet.  This lowly male slave stood in the center of the dungeon dressed only in his cuffs and collar.  

Mistress Martha again cleared her throat loudly to gain the attention of her peers.  "To identify you as our slave, you will wear this ring on your left thumb.  A slave's ring is a tradition from the days of ancient Greece and Rome.  The ring symbolizes your unending devotion to your mistresses."  She slipped a large gold ring on his left thumb.  She reached up on her toes and kissed his cheek.  She turned away and left him standing in the center of the chamber.

The mistresses were gathered in-groups, talking to each other.  Each lady wore a black leather bustier and thigh-high boots.  All of their pussies were exposed for the earlier kissing ceremony.

Along the wall stood a line of slaves, all dressed in cuffs and collars.  First in line was Cin, eyeing this lowly male slave with desire.  Next to her was Tosha.  Standing beside Tosha were The Marquesa's slaves, Vanessa, a perky blonde, and Marie, a tall brunette.  Standing next to them were the two slaves from the mountain cottage, Constance and Molly.  They were both like sisters to this lowly male slave.  They had shared many feelings with this lowly male slave during his two stays in the mountains.  All six of the slaves looked at this lowly male slave with happiness in their eyes.

Mistress Martha replaced Lady Colleen at this lowly male slave's side.  He stood waiting for instructions.

"All slaves will have four hours of free time starting now."  She announced loudly.  

Six gorgeous women instantly mobbed this lowly male slave.  They hugged him for several minutes.  Everyone was chattering loudly.  

Mistress Martha pulled this lowly male slave from the group hug.  She held his right arm in her hand.  The girls soon calmed down. 

"The swimming pool is all yours."  Mistress Martha announced.  She glanced at the six girls. "And, so is slave drew."

She leaned over to this lowly male slave and whispered.  "The patch is water proof.  Have fun in the pool, and make sure they do too."  She patted him on the butt and smiled.  "And make sure that you're a good boy!"



 - The end -