“Geez, Peter…why are you always playing with yourself? Don’t you have any self control?” It was my wife
Carolyn complaining again about me rubbing my cock. I wasn’t trying to jerk off; I was just rubbing and massaging it. All the same, Carolyn hated seeing me do it.
“I guess I don’t have enough to stop without your help.”
“My help? What am I supposed to do, hold your hands every minute of every day?”
“No, darling, but I do have an idea that will give you the responsibility and authority over my penis.” I pulled up my laptop and opened a webpage to a site that sold male chastity devices. “It’s called a penis cage or cock cage,” I continued, “ I’ll agree to try it if you’ll just agree to let me out so I can have sex at least once a week.”
Carolyn looked at me pensively, “Let me see if I understand you, Peter. You’re going to lock it up and I’m going to keep the key so you won’t be able to touch it. That part is good—I like it. You’re going to ask me to let you out so you can have sex. But what’s going to happen if I don’t want sex when you ask me?”
“Uh…either I have to wait or I’ll have to masturbate, I guess.”
“Let me think about it, Peter. I’m not sure I want to do this.”
“Well, to be honest, Carolyn, I’m not so sure about it either. Right now I’m asking if you’re willing to have sex, either by just asking you or by some signal between us. If I do this I’ll be asking for your permission. That’s pretty submissive--asking for your permission to cum.” She looked at me again, even more thoughtfully than before.
Carolyn brought the subject up again the following morning. “OK, Peter, here’s what I think—if I do this you should be allowed to get out twice in a week—once to masturbate and once for sex with me. Let’s face it your sex drive is at least twice what mine is. That way, if I’m not in the mood you will still get some relief and I can help you with that if you want. Of course, I’m not bound by the rule, so if I want sex you’re coming out to take care of me. If you don’t ask—if you forget, or you’re sick, or whatever-- to get out in a week, you’re out of luck—no carrying over to the next week. Is that agreeable?” I nodded, so Carolyn continued, “Go online and order the one you want. Get some of those plastic locks in case we go to the pool or the beach or decide to travel by air.” She reached up to kiss me and, as she did, she whispered, “Thank you, I really do appreciate that you’re willing to address the issue.”
I checked out a couple of sites looking for the best price and, hopefully, get free shipping, too. I decided on a BON-4, lightweight silicone which would be strong and flexible. It came a week later. I walked in from playing golf and Carolyn told me to take a shower, showing me the box. When I was done I stepped out to the kitchen naked, opening the box and checking the directions. I tried several restraining rings before settling on what I thought would be the best size. I lubed my cock and slid it into the tube. When I put the pieces together I brought the lock up for Carolyn. “I think it would be appropriate if you did this. How about a trial period of say three months to see how I can handle it? Everything I read says the extra key should be someplace where I can get to it in an emergency if you’re not around. Since I’ve agreed to wear it I won’t take advantage. I’ll probably never use it, but if I had to go to the doctor I might.”
“OK,” Carolyn replied, “how about the safe? It’s available, but not too handy.” I agreed as she locked me up, draping the key on a long silver chain that hung beautifully between her lovely breasts.
Asking to get out of the cage became a kind of game between us. At first I just asked to get out and she would ask why. I’d tell her either for sex or to masturbate. She rarely denied me. I enjoyed the idea of being submissive to her so I carried it a step further, kneeling and asking really politely. After six weeks I was kneeling, kissing her feet, and asking, “Mistress, may I please jerk off today?” or “Mistress, may I please have sex with you today?” She usually laughed which encouraged me to go even further as she unlocked the cage. She would sometimes help me if I was jerking off, rubbing my balls or tweaking my nipples. Afterward she would scoop up cum from my abdomen and feed it to me, furthering my submissive behavior to her. Then I would clean up really well and replace my cock into the cage before returning to her for locking up which was almost a ceremony in itself. Carolyn loved the control she exerted over me.
When I asked for sex it was usually excellent with Carolyn taking an active role—much more active than she had previously—and demanding that I fuck her in that day’s position of choice. Rarely did I decide, but I never complained. I was having a great time—and I was getting off, exploding in her tight hot cunt every time.
I was getting off twice a week most weeks, not too bad for someone in his mid-fifties so that wasn’t a concern. However, I often found the device uncomfortable, especially when the weather was hot and humid—virtually every day in June, July, and August where we lived. I was sweating heavily and my penis and scrotum often smelled badly. I had difficulty washing myself completely. I was also having trouble sleeping with it. I told Carolyn of my concerns just a week before my three-month trial was due to end. She seemed accepting even though she was obviously not very happy about my decision. I told her I would stick it out for the full three months, but then I’d never put it on again. That would have been Thursday.
On Monday night Carolyn put on a slinky nightgown, leading me to the bedroom. She removed the cage remarking that my cock did smell kind of strong. However, that wasn’t going to stop her from fucking me silly. She leaned down for a long, tender, and extremely hot kiss. She pushed her tongue into my mouth, something she rarely did any more. I gently massaged her breasts, initially through the satiny cloth, before sliding my hand under the gown and up her side, caressing her smooth perfect skin all the way up to her nipple. It was hard and sensitive as I rolled it between my fingers; I loved the way Carolyn gasped and sighed. She reached between my legs, stroking my cock. I was already hard, but her gentle touch made me want her all the more. I reached down between her legs to find her cunt oozing nectar. I was about to go down on her when she stopped me, rolling me onto my back and straddling my hips. She rubbed my tip up and down her slit before slowly lowering herself teasingly down my shaft.
Once I was seated into her tunnel she began to rock, driving her clit into me with ever increasing speed and force. She rode me like a woman possessed. She brought herself to a strong orgasm in only a few minutes and continued looking for a second. Meanwhile I was getting close. I could feel my balls clench as I drove deep into her with every thrust. I lifted her almost a foot off the bed every time I rammed home. I could see her shudder under my assault as we came together, another rare event in recent years. Cum dripped from her, covering my abdomen in our combined juices, as she collapsed on my chest. “Wow,” I told her, “That was…you were…incredible. I love you so much.”
“I wanted it to be special; it’ll have to last you.”
“Huh?” I was confused.
“Take your pills and go to sleep. You have to get up early for golf. I’ll explain tomorrow. Good night, darling, I love you.”
I play golf every Tuesday in a men’s league and I usually have to get up early, between 5:30 and 6:00. I also suffer from insomnia so, to insure a good night’s sleep, I always take two sleeping pills that really knock me out. I fell asleep almost immediately, not stirring until the alarm woke me at 5:45. I tried to move and turn it off, but I couldn’t. My wrists were cuffed behind my back, and my ankles were also secured, maybe a foot apart.
I heard Carolyn as she rose, “I knew I forgot something.” She stopped the alarm and sat on my side of the bed. “Now, Peter, I was up most of the night working on you and I’m tired, so I’m going to gag you so we can both get some more sleep.”
“Carolyn,” I asked trying not to overreact, “may I ask what the hell is going on? Why am I cuffed like this? What have you done to me?”
“Very well, Peter, I’ll take a few minutes to explain. It really is all your doing. When you volunteered to wear that cock cage I found I enjoyed the dominance I felt over you, and the more submissive you were the more I loved it. I began asking myself how much I would enjoy total dominance over you. Then you told me you were doing away with the cage. I couldn’t allow that so I had to take matters into my own hands. About two months ago I was researching on the internet and found this company that would develop almost anything for the right price. They put together this cage you’re wearing now. I’ve been holding on to it for just this kind of situation.” She pulled the blanket back and I noticed for the first time that I was naked. I looked with horror at the stainless steel cock cage that covered my organ and balls. The tube had several colored wires attached in several places and the entire tube was covered with a heavy duty mesh shield that protected the workings.
“I left the last pins until you were awake so you’d see just how much I mean business. Peter, I’m going to hurt you—badly—when I insert these last four pins. Then I’m going to demonstrate how this works. I’m going to shock your penis and I’ll do it whenever necessary to bring you into submission.” She opened the shield, raising it on its hinge. She took four evil-looking pins about one half inch long from her pocket. She screwed the first one into a socket on the tube covering my cock. I could feel the pin, really more a needle than anything else, bore into the head of my cock. The pain was excruciating. It was all I could do not to scream in agony, but I didn’t want her to think she was getting the better of me. Four times she screwed these horrible things into the head of my cock. That’s when I noticed close to a dozen other sockets in the tube. Did I have more needles boring into me? When she was done she connected one of the four wires to the snap in the head of each needle.
“Fortunately for you I only have to do that once; now to demonstrate that I will shock the hell out of you.”
“Uh, Carolyn, how do you get this thing off?”
“You don’t, my darling—my slave-to-be—it’s on you for life.”
“So,” I replied, “no orgasms—ever—now that’s a mighty strong motivation to cooperate, isn’t it?” I said sarcastically. “Listen, Carolyn, this will never work. Remember…I’m Dutch. We’re a very resolute people; we never give up. If this was something you wanted, why didn’t you ask or even tell me? I enjoyed being submissive to you, but this? Forcing me and trying to hurt me will never work—never in a million years. You’ll have to kill me and I won’t be much good to you dead, will I?”
“I figured you’d say something like that, but I haven’t shocked you yet. You’ll come along. The company who developed this said that none of its test subjects were able to withstand the pain. You’ll fold just like them. Now, I want to gag you. If you refuse I’ll just drug you and do it while you’re unconscious, so why not cooperate?”
“Fuck you. Go ahead and drug me. I’m not cooperating with you today or ever, and, believe me I’ll get you for this. You’ll be sorry you ever thought of it.” I had barely finished when she hit the remote, sending a charge through my cock. It hurt like hell, but I gritted my teeth and stuck it out. I smiled when it ended. “That the best you can do? Go ahead—do it again.” She did. She shocked me all told five times, but I refused to give in. She eventually gave up and went back to sleep, but not before she clipped my handcuffs to my ankles with a short chain, bending my feet up behind my butt. Satisfied I couldn’t move she went back to sleep while I seethed in anger at her.
There was a part of my life that I never, ever, discussed—not with my wife, not with anyone. Other than a handful of VA doctors, not a living soul was aware. I was an Army lieutenant in 1965 when I was captured by the North Vietnamese Army. Our position was overrun due to what I later learned was a major fuck-up in intelligence. There’s a contradiction if I ever heard one—military intelligence! What a fucking joke. I was transferred immediately to the Hanoi Hilton, that cesspool they called a prisoner of war detention center. That’s where my genitals were first shocked, and by a much stronger charge than Carolyn had used. They zapped me repeatedly every day for the first month, and when that didn’t work they drove nails through my shaft into a piece of wood, attached the ends of a lamp cord to the nails and plugged it in, giving me 220 volts. I still didn’t tell them anything—I didn’t know anything. I had only arrived in country three days earlier. Our recon team ran into several hundred regulars who we were assured were a hundred miles away—there were four of us.
This was where I began “playing with myself” as I massaged my injured organ, trying to restore the circulation and speed whatever healing might occur before the entire process was repeated the following day. It continued every day for almost four months until the guards made a mistake. They got careless one afternoon putting me back into my cell. It was early in the war and their procedures were sloppy. I was weakened, but not yet weak, and certainly not as weak as they thought I was. I banged their heads together then rammed their faces into the wall, before chopping my hand at their throats. They were dead in seconds. I locked them in my cell, disguising the bodies as my own, face down in bed, and tried to find my way out. Twice I encountered guards and twice I was able to surprise them, killing them silently before moving away. I thought at the time that I had nothing to lose. If I was caught they’d kill me and that was preferable to continuing the torture every morning and afternoon and most evenings in an attempt to get information from me that I just didn’t have.
Using their keys I eventually made my way to a low roof where I was able to swing down into an alley, and from there into the nearby jungle. I snuck away into the night. When I encountered a river I jumped in, ignoring the threat from crocodiles, snakes, and leeches. I knew most rivers flowed from north to the south and east and both were definitely better than here. I floated for several hours before finding an old canoe. I climbed into it and paddled into the main current. I stayed there until the sun rose. Then I sought out some overhanging brush where I stayed in the insects and snakes until dark. I continued that way for three days, afraid to drink the germ laden water and living off the occasional piece of fruit I came across accidentally and whatever rain water I could catch in my mouth.
The fourth night I drifted into a lighted compound; my canoe was fired upon and I could hear the jocular comments between shots. “Stop shooting you fucking assholes,” I yelled at the top of what remained of my voice. I was ordered to come to the bank. When I did I was hustled to the camp commandant’s office. Before I could say anything I begged for water. I briefly told my story before collapsing. I woke two days later in the base hospital where I was debriefed. Of course, Military Intelligence chafed at my accusations but they had no defense against the facts of what happened. I was sent home with a medical discharge a month later. My parents, relatives, and friends asked what happened, but I said nothing. How could I describe the horrors I had endured? How does anyone describe having nails driven into his penis and come across as believable?
As I lay there I knew that Carolyn would make a mistake just as those professional guards had erred years earlier in Nam. Of course, I wasn’t the same man I was thirty years ago, but Carolyn was an amateur at this. It was just a matter of time. As I considered the device on my cock I realized it was battery driven. The more I allowed myself to be shocked the faster it would run down. Then she’d have to come close to me. Would she be close enough for me to strike? Would I be able to? I wouldn’t need much—a trip or a head-butt could incapacitate her. I’d bide my time and wait. I was a patient man—a patient and extremely stubborn man.
What bothered me about all this was how unnecessary it all was. I knew I was going to be submissive when I introduced the idea of the cock cage and I enjoyed her domination over me. I would have willingly done most of what she would want from me, but not now—not ever. I’d make her pay.
If I was going to rebel I thought I might as well start now. I quickly found that I could move my knees to my chest so I could use the large muscles in my legs to push. The chains holding me together looked flimsy and, if they were, I might be able to break one. I pushed down, the leather cuffs chafing against my skin as they stretched taut. I was still able to squat well over 200 pounds so there would be some real stress here. After roughly five minutes of strain I felt my legs move just a tiny amount—something was giving. Seconds later my feet came free. The D-rings in the cuffs had broken—stretched open. I straightened my legs and rolled, pushing Carolyn from the bed. I heard her scream as her head hit the night stand and when I continued rolling I landed on top of her—all 220 pounds driving the air from her lungs. I had hurt her, but that seemed just fine to me, after all she had intended to hurt me badly. All the normal rules of marriage and polite society were off. She was momentarily stunned so I slid my wrists down behind my butt and found I was able to slip the cuffs past my feet. Now my hands were in front of me and Carolyn was in trouble. I sat on her chest with my hands holding her head. “Open these now!” I told her. I could see the fear in her eyes as she groped for the remote to shock me again. “Don’t even think of it unless you want to die here and now,” I screamed!
I placed the cuffs and the short chain over her neck and leaned forward cutting off her air supply. Her eyes bulged but her hand came up with the cuff key. I pulled back to allow her to unlock the cuffs. I sat back, still hurting her by placing all my weight on her chest as I massaged my sore wrists. I took the remote and key for the cage from her and cuffed her left wrist to her right ankle, leaving her incapacitated at the side of the bed. I went out to my workshop to get this fucking thing off me. I started to think on my way out, and detoured to the kitchen for some orange juice. I learned long ago that this is how I do some of my best thinking.
I had several key thoughts. First, could I ever trust Carolyn again? The answer was a resounding “NO!” Second, would I consent to be submissive to her again? I didn’t see how I could if I couldn’t trust her. I wasn’t naturally submissive so I was sure that her inevitable abuse and torture would destroy us. Third, if I wouldn’t be submissive, could I be dominant—making her submissive to me? I had a definite advantage over her now and I figured out how to best use it. I didn’t remove the cock cage—I returned to Carolyn, finding her half-way across the room, probably on the way to the phone.
“Want to make a phone call, Carolyn? That’s what I was thinking, too. Notice I haven’t removed this monstrosity? I thought it would make a bigger impression on the cops when they come. This way they’ll have to call Emergency Services; I’ll have to have surgery to remove these things. That would make the charges even more serious. Just what you’ve done with this device amount to at least a dozen Class A felonies and don’t forget, I still have plenty of friends in the DA’s office from my time there as an assistant. You will never see bail. Who’d put it up for you? Your parents are both dead and I’m not going to do it. I sat in the kitchen for a few minutes thinking about this. Even with a plea bargain—which I would obviously oppose—you’re looking at a minimum of twenty years before you’d even be eligible for parole. You might get it then—if I’m dead. Tell you what, I’ll put the call on speaker so you can hear the reaction at the 911 board.”
“Nooooooooooooo! Please Peter, I’m sorry! Please…I’ll do anything!”
“Yes, please, Peter…I will…I’ll do anything…just don’t call the police.”
“Well, Carolyn, I can only think of one scenario in which we can stay together. Instead of me being your slave, you’ll have to be mine.”
“Me? A slave? I…I….”
“You have two choices—become my slave or spend the rest of your life in prison. I just hope you get some male guards. They’ll really appreciate what you did to me. Expect to be beaten on a regular basis, if not by the guards by other prisoners currying favor. Oh…what a wonderful life it will be. Now, since I’m a generous man I’ll give you time to decide—you have ten seconds.”
Carolyn hung her head, knowing she was beaten. She spoke just as I picked up the phone, “Don’t...please, Peter, I’ll do it.”
“I think that was the right decision, Carolyn, but understand I’m going to document all of this on video and that, for this type of offense there is a long statute of limitations. I think it’s twelve years. By then you’ll be totally submissive, won’t you dear? OK, I going to cuff you to the headboard and gag you so I suggest you go back to sleep. I’ll deal with you later when you wake up. By then I’ll have everything done. I moved her back to the bed, cuffing her hands through the rails of the brass headboard. I went to the hamper to retrieve a soiled pair of my briefs. When I found a pair that had a bit of dried shit on them I stuffed them into her mouth and sealed them with painter’s tape. I bent over to kiss her and headed out to my workshop.
It took a while, mostly to find the right tools. Pulling the sixteen needles from my penis proved incredibly difficult. If the pain of insertion was anything like the pain of removal it’s a miracle Carolyn was able to do it without waking me. My poor cock was bruised and bloody when I was done ninety minutes later. I returned to our bathroom where I rinsed a clean washcloth in a basin of warm soapy water. Carefully, I cleansed my organ several times until the bleeding had stopped. I looked down at this monstrosity that my “beloved” wife had hoped to use to enslave me. I had taken the time to document everything, both video and audio, including the date and hour. I described waking to find myself cuffed and shackled, Carolyn’s inserting the final pins and her shocking me five times before I was able to free myself. Of course, this was strictly done to intimidate Carolyn—it had absolutely no validity in court unless it was a dying declaration. I could have easily fabricated the entire episode, but Carolyn didn’t know that. After all, I was the attorney in the family, not her.
I returned to the bedroom to find Carolyn asleep. It took me less than ten minutes to find all her equipment—a ball gag, paddle, crop, and cane, also a blindfold that I might find useful. I would need a second set of cuffs that I could use to hobble Carolyn. I was glad she was able to sleep while cuffed. I’d never trust her in bed with me again—unless she was securely restrained.
I woke Carolyn and put her on the toilet. “Are you going to watch me?”
“You’re going to be my slave. Get used to the idea that you have absolutely no privacy rights. Go now or I’ll put you back into bed while I do some shopping. If you wet the bed I’ll beat you something terrible.” I heard her begin to tinkle as her face turned beet red. I put her back to bed, cuffing her again before I kissed her cheek and returned to the bathroom to deal with my own needs. Twenty minutes later I drove off on a shopping spree. I stopped at the Home Depot first, then our local sex shop, a pet store, a marine supply store, and finally at a locally owned furniture store. I had taken two hours to complete my mission.
I found Carolyn awake so I removed her from the bed telling her to strip out of her night gown. “My first rule is that you will always be naked at home. Take it off now or expect punishment. I’ll write a contract later for both of us to sign.”
“Is that legal?”
“Sure, why not? There are all kinds of contracts. As long as it doesn’t deal with anything illegal it will be OK, and I don’t plan to put anything illegal in it—think of it as a personal services contract. Come here before we do anything else. I want to see your head. Stay here while I get something to clean it with.” She was naked and kneeling on the floor when I returned. I dabbed at her head with a wash cloth to remove the clotted blood. I gave her an ice pack and two ibuprofen for the swelling, telling her to lie down while I took care of the necessary details for our new life together.
My first step was to climb into the attic where I measured the distance between the beams in the ceiling. I cut several pieces from the four by four I had bought at Home Depot. I drove a finishing nail into the center of one side and forced the wood between two beams, nail-side down. When I had pushed the wood into place against the sheetrock ceiling I drilled several holes in the adjacent beams and screwed it into place. I repeated this procedure three more times before returning to the bedroom. I removed the nails and replaced them with heavy duty screw eyes. I threaded rope through them leading to more screw eyes in the adjacent wall. The rope ended where it was tied off at cleats from the marine store. I pulled Carolyn up from the bed, raised her arms and tied off the cuffs to the rope. I pulled her up so she was standing on tiptoes, arms straight over her head. She was completely exposed and vulnerable to me.
“I’m sorry, darling, but it’s time to pay the piper—punishment for the torture you gave me this morning. However, unlike you, I’m going to limit any punishment you get. Primarily your punishment will consist of spanking, paddling, or caning. This morning it will be paddling, thanks to this wonderful paddle I found in your closet. So, here are my limits—hand spanking, 50; paddling, 30; caning, 10. This offense was the worst I could imagine so you’re getting the full 30. I am going to gag you—open your mouth, that’s a good girl. I expect you’ll be a pleasure to train. I know how much you hate pain.”
Carolyn was standing on her tiptoes so I had to be careful. I wanted the blows on her ass, not on her abdomen where I could actually injure her. Why I was concerned after this morning’s cock torture I didn’t know. Perhaps it was because I refused to sink to her level. I reared back and let her have it, thankful for the gag. She had already started to cry, the tears falling onto her cheeks after only one shot. On and on I went—eleven, twelve, thirteen—until I decided to rest. I held her head to my chest, consoling her—telling her she was almost halfway there. Sixteen, seventeen—again I continued, steadying her with my off hand. Finally, I was done.
I lowered Carolyn’s arms carefully so she wouldn’t fall on the floor. Sitting in a chair I pulled her up into my arms, holding her across my legs as I rubbed her back and her butt cheeks, running my hands through her hair. I gently massaged her ass, much surprised to find her cunt running with juice. “Oh, you little slut, you are so turned on, aren’t you? Don’t even try to deny it; you didn’t get this wet on our honeymoon. Open your legs.” I moved my hand up to her cunt. Not only was it soaking wet; it was hot, much hotter than her body temperature. Her clit was hard as I began to rub. “You’ll find I’ll be a considerate master. I want you to cum and I’ll allow you to have an orgasm often. But, I intend to control you, so don’t have one without my permission. If you do I’ll have to punish you severely.” As I rubbed her clit I could feel it harden and grow even more. I slid my thumb into her cunt, using my fingers to massage her clit. I used my left hand to rub her tits and pinch her nipples. My right hand was covered in her juice when she arched her back. I was sure she would have screamed in her ecstasy had she not been gagged. She shook wildly as her orgasm rolled through her body. Finally, she came to rest. I removed the gag and turned her over.
“OK, my slave, so far as I am concerned we’re even. You tortured me; I punished you for it. I will never again speak of this, nor will I punish you any further for it. Now we will work on your training.” I kept the cuffs on her and added some leather cuffs to her ankles. Using a thin but strong nylon rope, one she could never break, I tied the chain of her wrist cuffs to the chain between her ankles. “You’ll be able to move a little, but you’ll maintain this position until I release you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes…Master. Will you hurt me again?”
“I’m sure I will, but only if and when you force me to. You will learn to comply with every directive I give you without hesitation. I don’t care if you like it, love it, or hate it. I don’t care if it’s the most repugnant thing you can imagine. You are to do it, but, don’t worry, I won’t ask you to do anything illegal—immoral, definitely, but not illegal.”
“Yes, I understand…uh…Master.”
Let’s go over my preliminary rules. One—you will be naked in the house at all times unless directed otherwise by me.”
“Yes, Master, I will be naked unless you tell me otherwise.”
“Two—you will address me as Master in private, by my first name in public. In private I will refer to you as ‘slave,’ in public as Carolyn.”
“Three—there will be no hesitation in responding to a command. This is the one that will get you punished.
Four—you will shave or wax all hair on your abdomen and ass. I want them completely devoid of hair at all times. I will give you time today to get started. You are to let me know if you need any supplies. I will probably have to help you with your ass.
“Five—you are to give up all your activities; your time will be spent working here at the house or servicing me.
Six—you will use every part of your body willingly and eagerly to service me.
“Seven—you are not to play with yourself or masturbate without permission. When we have sex you will not experience an orgasm until I give my permission.
Eight—unless given permission you will remain on your hands and knees in the house. When I enter the room you will crawl to me and kiss my feet in a sign of respect for your master. Those will do for now, but I may amend the list—adding or subtracting—as I see fit.”
‘”Oh, one more thing, you are not to speak unless spoken to. You may raise your hand and speak if I recognize you. Otherwise, you will be silent. If I ask your opinion or if we are in a conversation, you may answer completely and fully.”
“Master, my knees are hurting.”
“Well, that’s your first punishment—speaking without permission. I don’t care if your knees hurt. You need to learn to do what you are told. Now, get up and lie across my lap. Do I need to gag you for this?”
“No…Master. I’m sorry, I’ll behave.” I spanked her ten times, probably too much for the infraction, but I wanted to make a point. Her already sore ass was even sorer and redder. Red was a color she’d get to know well over the next months.
Over the next few days I received the rest of my purchases. First was a wrought iron head and foot board for our bed. There were lots of holes and/or spaces to secure Carolyn and it was infinitely stronger than our brass headboard. I had no doubts that I could safely attach her to the bed and sleep like a baby. Three days later my purchase from the pet store was delivered—a portable dog kennel, large. It was a big cage four feet long by three high and wide. This would be Carolyn’s punishment bed—a place where I could keep her safe and sound where she would feel the humiliation she would need as she was trained and conditioned.
As it turned out Carolyn was harder to train than I had initially thought. She always had a complaint or comment or question. In time my spankings evolved to paddling and I even had to cane her on a few occasions. In time, however, I broke her spirit and I broke her, as well. Then I was able to build her back in the form I wanted—a complete slut, compliant to my every need and desire.
Carolyn was the daughter of a minister. She was extremely devout when we first met. It was more than four months before I could even touch her, let alone fuck her. She would only let me fuck her in the missionary position when we were first married. Eventually, she tried and enjoyed all the other positions, but oral and anal sex were “works of the devil.” She’d allow me to eat her pussy, but there was no way she would return the favor. That’s why I planned to condition Carolyn to love doing these “perverted acts.” I would allow Carolyn to cum, but only while giving me oral or anal sex, or while orally cleaning my cock after vaginal or anal sex.
One of the first things I had done to Carolyn was to use a butt plug in her ass. This probably resulted in more punishments that any other single aspect of her training. As my wife I was never allowed anywhere near her ass. She couldn’t and wouldn’t understand why anyone would possibly want to stick his penis into a woman’s dirty ass. I intended to make her an anal whore. I still remember the first time I pushed a butt plug into her ass. I started with a small one—the smallest I could find. She cried and complained the entire time until I caned her ass in response. “You’re keeping this in your ass all the time now and I’m making you responsible for it. If you have to shit you can take it out, but you’d better put it back when you’re done. The only lube you’ll be using is your spit, so get used to putting it into your mouth.” That resulted in yet another punishment. I checked her whenever possible and I would cane her if it wasn’t in place. Just when she became accustomed to the plug I substituted a bigger one, getting her used to something close in size to my cock. I’m not especially large, but I’ve never had any complaints—about seven inches in length and two inches in diameter. My erect penis is round, unlike many that are flatter top and bottom.
I surprised my slave one Saturday morning, calling her to the bedroom from the kitchen where she was cleaning the floor. She scurried in on all four, prostrating herself on the floor in front of me. “Remove the plug. It’s time.” She looked at me as if to question, but thought better of it. Rising onto her knees she proceeded to push the plug from her anus. She placed it onto the bathroom counter before returning to my side. “Head on the floor and spread your legs.”
Reluctantly she replied with the only words available to her, “Yes, Master.”
I lubed my finger and rubbed in into her ass before pushing my cock into her cunt. She looked back in surprise. “Don’t worry, that’s coming next—once I’m fully lubed with your pussy juice. I must say you are unusually wet this morning. Could it be that you enjoy the idea of my fucking your ass?”
She raised her hand and I acknowledged her, enabling her to speak, “I enjoy serving you, Master. I enjoy bringing you pleasure.” I smiled in reply as I pounded her pussy. I pulled out suddenly and changed positions, aiming now at her dark hole. I pushed slightly as her anus yielded, the plug having done its work well. I slid easily into her tight little ass, fulfilling a dream I’d had since before we’d married more than twenty years ago. My slave was 45, eight years younger than me, but she looked and could pass for 35 due to an extensive exercise regimen she had followed all her life. I would allow her to continue once her training was completed. At five feet five inches tall and 125 pounds with a 35C-25-36 body she was an extremely attractive and sexy package. Now she would do exactly as I required.
I began to thrust, forcing my cock deep into her bowel every time. I reached between her legs, finding her cunt with my fingers. My thumb found her G-spot, my fingers her hard clit. I rubbed her to an incredible orgasm almost immediately, leaving her panting into the carpet. I continued rubbing, intending to bring her as many orgasms as possible before I blew my load into her ass. The tightness of her anus combined with the excitement of the moment was going to make that hard on me, but I was going to try.
I noticed my slave returning my thrusts as I pounded her ex-virgin ass. I continued to assault her pussy and clit and soon enough I felt her shudder under my touch. A massive spasm signaled orgasm number two. Carolyn turned back to me, looking me in the eyes as if to beg me to stop—not the ass-fucking, it was the pleasure that was driving her crazy.
I could feel that I was getting close and then it happened. I drove deep into her as my cock exploded, jetting hot white cum into her again and again. I collapsed onto her when I was done. Keeping my now drenched hand in her cunt I pulled out of her ass and flipped her over. “Open your mouth,” I ordered, “Clean my cock. I’ll tell you when you’re done.” Her expression was pure terror as she debated the two evils—having a shitty cock in her mouth versus the severe caning she knew she’d receive if she refused. Ultimately, she opened her mouth and slowly licked me clean while I continued to work her clit. I was almost clean when she had orgasm number three, and, if I read the physical signs correctly, the biggest of all. I told her to join me in the shower as I pulled her up. I had her lick my hand as we walked the short distance to the bathroom. This was another first for her—tasting her own pussy.
I had my slave wash me and then her own body. I noticed she spent a lot of time on her pussy and ass and I could see my cum dripping from her ass. I handed her the butt plug when we exited the shower. She licked it to lube it and pushed it back where it belonged. I hugged and kissed her, congratulating her for her obedience.
The next day we had conventional sex and I could see her trying to cum until I told her, “You are not to cum. You haven’t earned it in my eyes. If you do I’ll cane you the maximum—ten strokes.”
“Yes, Master,” she replied. There was nothing else she could do. That evening I had her blow me. I lay on the bed with her in the “69” position. I told her that I’d let her cum if she did a good job on me. I had exposed her to plenty of porn utilizing several of the free sites on the internet so she could see and learn oral and anal techniques. She began by licking around the edge of the helmet and up to my urethra. Then she ran her tongue down and back up the sensitive underside of my shaft. Just as I was enjoying that she engulfed my entire cock into her mouth. I pushed my tongue into her tunnel, finding and teasing her G-spot. I wrapped my mouth around her entire cunt and sucked, something I knew she loved. Carolyn was going crazy on my cock, fucking it with her mouth when I moved my attention to her clit. I sucked it between my teeth, licked all the way around it, and nibbled. This last step brought her over the top; she shook wildly before a massive spasm rolled through her body. She collapsed onto me, raising her hand. She spoke when I acknowledged her, “I am sorry, my Master, that took me by surprise. I will continue for you once I have recovered--with your approval.” She continued with, “Thank you, my Master,” after I had nodded.
She kept me hard with her tongue until she recovered; then she sucked me hard and fast. I thrust into her mouth several times as I came hard, filling her mouth with hot salty cum. “Swallow all of it,” I told her. “Clean my cock; suck out every last drop of my gift to you.” I turned her around when she was done and brought her into a long deep kiss.
We lay in each other’s arms for some time before she raised her hand again. With permission she spoke, “My father was wrong, Master. These acts are not evil; they can be very loving and very fulfilling. I love the orgasms you give me when we do them.” I pulled her into another long kiss. We spent the night kissing and holding each other. I allowed her to sleep unbound that night for the first time since this had begun months ago.
This was the pattern I followed every day—conditioning her not only to accept oral and anal sex, but to desire and crave them as the means of achieving the sexual gratification she needed. She was also conditioned to have and expect sex every single day. We usually had oral and anal exclusively during her period, but I had on several occasions demanded vaginal sex, as well. Carolyn learned that there were no sexual boundaries or limitations for her.
I knew my job was completed one day after more than six months of training and conditioning. “You have done so well lately,” I began, “What would you like to do today? What type of sex would you prefer?” My slave thought for a few seconds before responding, “Master, would you please fuck my ass? That’s my favorite now. Thank you for making me do it.”
“Yes, my slave, it will be my pleasure, but, more importantly, it will be your pleasure, too.”
I kept my slave close, sleeping together naked every evening. Having her unbound became the norm for us. I enjoyed having her near me—totally accessible, totally unencumbered by societal or religious restraints. I loved waking each morning finding her next to me, until one morning I woke early finding the bed empty. I rolled over, finding Carolyn kneeling on the floor, her head down in submission and respect. She raised her hand and spoke when I nodded, “Thank you, Master. Thank you for trusting me again.” I noticed that she was crying when I raised her head. She looked into my eyes and whispered, “I love you, Master.”
I lifted the blanket, inviting her to join me as I replied, “I love you, my wonderful slave.” I pulled her close and we kissed for hours, making out like teenagers until we reluctantly rose and dressed.
Everything I had planned had now taken place. I had trained and conditioned Carolyn to love and need every form of sex. She wanted it as often as I did and we were both cumming several times each and every day. So why wasn’t I happy? Why wasn’t I content? I thought about this dilemma day and night until the answer came to me. I realized then that I still had a lot of work to do.
I began by relaxing the slave rules. First, I allowed Carolyn to stand in the house and walk instead of crawling. Then I allowed her to dress and to speak without my permission. Over a period of four months I did away with every slave rule until we were virtual equals again.
I knew the transformation was complete one afternoon when I returned from golf. Carolyn was seated in a chair, her legs crossed. She motioned with her finger for me to come to her. When I reached her she pointed down—I kneeled in submission at her feet. “You are a very, very smart man, Peter de Groot.”
“Thank you,” I replied, and when she gave me a stern look I continued, “…Mistress.”
“Yes, you have shown me how to be a slave and, more importantly, how to be a good and fair Mistress, rather than one who is unnecessarily harsh and cruel. Go and take your shower. Return to me in fifteen minutes. You know what to wear.” I kissed her feet and rose, walking quickly to the bathroom. I cleaned my body thoroughly and returned to my Mistress naked. I knelt, kissed her feet again and sat, my head lovingly on her thigh. She spread her legs, giving me an invitation I could not resist. I moved in and kissed her sweet pussy. I licked gently, stimulating her labia as they reddened and swelled in her passion. I fucked her tunnel with my tongue as I scooped nectar from her—in time I moved to her clit.
“While you’re occupied down there I will give you my slave rules. If there’s one thing I learned as a slave it is that some of those rules are silly and meaningless. I do want you naked and sitting at my feet, but crawling has no purpose other than to humiliate the slave. You may speak without permission and you may call me Carolyn; I will call you Peter. After all, we are primarily husband and wife. We will continue to have sex every day, however, I will decide how and when and I will also decide when you can cum. You are not to touch your penis without permission and you are not to cum without permission. Don’t worry, you will cum often enough to satisfy virtually every man.
“I will punish you when I deem it necessary, but I doubt that I will cane you unless you have broken some serious rule. Oh…fuck…that feels so fucking good. Aaaaahhhhhh! Unnggghhhh! Thank you, Peter that was wonderful. Now I want you to stand and face away from me. Spread your legs. A bit further…OK, that’s good. Now bend over and hold your ankles.” I knew what was coming. I felt the cool gel on my butt as she pushed the butt plug into my anus. “You already know the rules about this, don’t you?” I nodded. “Well, at four this afternoon you are to remove it, give yourself an enema—the kit is in the bathroom vanity—and hold it for twenty minutes before releasing. I want you really clean inside. Then you are to insert the plug you’ll find with the enema kit. I went shopping while you were at golf and I have a little…no, make that a big surprise for you tonight.”
“Very well, Mistress, I can hardly complain about doing things I made you do.” My Mistress smiled and dismissed me. At four on the dot I removed the enema bag from the vanity and filled it with warm water and some liquid soap. I emptied the entire bag into my intestine then stood writhing and dancing in an effort to keep it in. The last minute seemed to take an hour before I was finally able to release; I barely made it to the toilet. I could see Carolyn laughing in the bedroom at my anguish. She walked in, picked up the butt plug and pushed it into my ass. It was three times the size of the first one. I could feel the pressure on my prostate—it was uncomfortable at best.
After dinner Carolyn and I shared the clean-up duties. This was a kindness as she could have simply ordered me to do it. She led me by the penis to the bedroom. We showered together; I cleaned every inch of her gorgeous body and dried her. By now I was painfully hard. My Mistress pushed me onto my back on the bed, placing a triangular wedge under my hips as I lay on my back. She told me to push—expel the plug—as she pulled it from my asshole. I lay there for several minutes while she prepared herself in the bathroom. She returned wearing a black leather harness with a large black dildo attached. “I need you to moisten it, Peter. Open your mouth.” She fucked my mouth for several minutes, moistening the silicone before she moved it to my butt. “I selected this wedge because they told me I could put pressure on your prostate this way. You always made this an extremely pleasurable experience for me and now I’m going to return the favor. There’s another dildo in my pussy and yet another in my ass. All three are also vibrators so I anticipate we’re both going to cum over and over, but you are not to cum until I give permission. You can stroke your cock, but if you cum before I tell you to I’ll have to punish you.”
“Yes, I understand, Mistress.” I felt the lube and then the pressure as she forced the hard dildo into my ass. The sensation was incredible when she turned on the vibe. My cock responded immediately, hardening again in seconds. I stroked slowly—very slowly—as the pressure on my prostate drove me toward orgasm. I was breathing heavily and panicking; I was going to cum soon and there was nothing I could do to control it. “Mistress,” I begged, “please…please let me cum. What you’re doing to me…I can’t control it. See…I’m not even touching it. It’s the pressure on my prostate and the vibration. Please, Mistress. Oh,God!” I came hard, fountains of semen erupting from my cock and covering my chest. My Mistress just shook her head as if to say “No!” but she continued to fuck me anyway. Harder and harder she drove that hard silicone cock into my ass. It looked to me as though she had already cum at least once, but still she pounded my rectum. A few minutes later my cock sprung again to life as my erection returned harder and stronger than before. “Stroke it,” she told me sternly. “Make yourself cum. You have my permission this time.”
I took my sloppy organ into my hand and began to jack it as she forced the dildo into me faster and faster. Every stroke drove the vibe into firm contact with my prostate. It felt as though she was milking me—drawing every drop of cum from my body. It took longer to cum this time, but not much. The thrill of her domination, the sensation of the prostate massage, and the stimulation of my anal ring were too much to long endure. I stroked my cock, deliberately at first, but soon I began to jerk it furiously. “Mistress, I’m getting close…close. Can I please cum now?”
“Yes, you obviously can’t resist this, so go ahead, but I want to see you aim it into your mouth. Let’s see how much you can swallow.” Oh, fuck--on top of everything else now I was supposed to shoot into my own mouth. What was going to happen when I missed? My motions were so frantic I doubted I could hit my mouth if it was directly over the head. Suddenly my balls clenched and I shot my first ribbon miraculously into my mouth. I had just managed to swallow it when I shot the next one—it landed on my left cheek. The third managed to mostly enter my mouth, but the remaining shots were too weak to even reach—they fell onto my stomach. My Mistress slowly withdrew, leaving my poor asshole aching. She brought the dildo to my mouth, instructing me to clean it. I knew this was going to happen as soon as she said she was fucking my ass so I was prepared. I hesitated not a second, licking it clean. Fortunately, the enema had mostly cleaned me. However, when she removed the strap-on from her body I had to clean the two dildos of her vaginal and anal deposits.
Carolyn joined me on the bed once I was able to clean myself up a bit. She leaned her head on my shoulder as she teased my nipple, “Tell me, Peter, how you planned all this—to take me from aspiring sadist to slave to an equal with you again and finally to your mistress. Did you figure this out all at once or bit by bit?”
“Initially, Mistress,” I replied softly, “I did not think I could ever trust you again so I planned to make you my slave. However, over time I learned that I could—allowing you to sleep unbound was the key. I have to tell you that the first night I spent most of it with one eye open. I had achieved everything I had planned for, but I wasn’t happy, Mistress. I realized that my problem was simply that I wasn’t crazy about being Master. I much preferred being submissive to you. That’s when I came up with the plan to shift the power and authority to you. It had to be gradual and seem to be a natural progression. Of course, the final step was moving all the bondage and discipline equipment to your closet last Thursday. You are also a very smart person, Mistress; I was certain you’d understand what I wanted.”
“It certainly has been a roller coaster ride for both of us, hasn’t it? I also found, much to my surprise, that I enjoyed being submissive to you. You were an excellent master, by the way. You were strict without being overbearing or cruel. You set a fine example for me to follow, but, truthfully, I’m not so sure I want to be Mistress any more. I’ll try it for three months, like you did with the cock cage. Then we’ll talk together about how it’s going. The important thing is that we love each other and that our marriage survives. Now, however, I need to deal with you cumming without permission.”
“I will accept any punishment, Mistress, but you might as well punish me for sleeping or breathing. The stimulation you were giving me was irresistible. May I suggest you paddle me, Mistress?”
“And just how many do you think I should give you?” Carolyn asked sarcastically.
“I think that ten would be appropriate, Mistress.”
“I disagree, but let’s see how things are going after fifteen. Get the cuffs and fasten them to the rope. Be sure to do a good job. I don’t want to punish you twice on the first night. Now while I’m thinking about it here are two more rules—first, I will use bondage on you, but never for more than twelve hours, and usually for much less. Second, I don’t want you playing with yourself. I know your wounds do bother you, but when they do I want you to come to me; I’ll take care of it for you.” My Mistress pulled the rope tight and fastened it to the cleat. I was stuck, arms over my head, on my tiptoes, and completely vulnerable.
She told me to count the blows as she laid into me. The pain was much worse than I thought it would be. My ass was burning as I counted, “One, Mistress; two, Mistress; three, Mistress; all the way to fifteen. I started crying from the pain at twelve. I hadn’t hurt this much since a broken leg I’d suffered in junior high school. “Please, Mistress,” I begged, “no more. I’ll try to do better; I promise you. Please, Mistress.”
“Very well, Peter, I’ll stop, but understand that I will do this again whenever necessary. You are only half-way to your own limit so I still have plenty to go, and remember, thirty was your limit—I haven’t yet told you I would respect it.” She released the rope and I fell to the floor. She uncuffed me and led me to the bed. Carefully, she laid me on my stomach while she sought a warm washcloth from the bathroom to soothe my sore red buttocks. “I must say, Peter, your ass is a delightful shade of red, but I’m glad I didn’t really hurt you. The pain will help you to understand and accept my authority. In time you’ll be my complete slave. Now, there is one other thing I want from you, but I will not require you to do it. I want you to take my waste—my urine—into your mouth and swallow. I read that many dominants demand that of their slaves, but, because of our relationship I won’t insist.”
I knew that slaves follow directions without hesitation or question; I was no exception. I rolled over onto my sore ass, opening my mouth as I did. My Mistress smiled as she climbed onto my face. She pissed straight into my mouth. I hated the taste, but slaves don’t hesitate or question so I did it thinking that I would eventually get used to the taste in time. I licked her pussy clean before she rose, pausing to kiss me and whisper, “Thank you. Now clean yourself up and join me in the living room.”
Carolyn fell into her role as Mistress as easily as I had hoped, but I found I was unable to refer to her as anything but “Mistress.” This became a problem one Saturday afternoon when I was home alone. I heard her as she walked in and I called out from the bedoom, “Mistress, please, I need your help. My wounds, Mistress; I’m in a lot of pain. Please, Mistress!” I did not realize that she had brought two friends home with her. She had forbidden me to touch my cock even though I might experience discomfort from the POW wounds. She had taken care of it patiently, sometimes three or four times a day and now I was desperate for her touch.
Carolyn hurried to help me, rubbing and massaging my cock until the pain was gone. “Thank you, Mistress. That was really bad this time. I promise you I never touched it.”
“I know you didn’t, but now we have another problem. I brought Cheryl and Sandra home with me and they heard you call me ’Mistress.’ They gave me some questioning looks before I hurried back here to help you. Put on a robe and help me explain.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress; you may punish me after if you wish.”
“No, you had no way of knowing and you were in obvious pain. We’ll just have to explain.” I joined my Mistress a few minutes later, clad only in my robe, and sat at her feet as was my custom. I laid my head on her soft creamy thigh. I heard Cheryl ask what I had called her and why. My Mistress replied tersely and honestly, “Peter and I have undergone several changes in the nature of our relationship over the past year. It all began when I complained about his ‘playing with himself.’ I didn’t know that he had been tortured in his penis when he was a POW in Viet Nam. I did something terrible and despicable in an effort to enslave him—force him to be my slave, sexual and otherwise. I put him into an electrical cock cage designed to shock and torture him in an effort to bring him under my control. He managed to escape and turn the tables on me, turning me into his slave. Truthfully, I enjoyed most of the things he did to me. I didn’t like being punished—spanked or paddled, but he only did that when it was necessary. He introduced me to some sexual practices I would never have considered before and I found that I loved them. He required that we have sex daily—several times daily.
However, Peter didn’t like being master so he relinquished control over several months, enabling me to take control. That’s where we are now—I am the mistress; he is the slave. I make the decisions; he does what he is told—he does everything I tell him no matter how odious or objectionable. I know what you’re thinking about the daily sex—yes, we are still having sex every single day, but I decide what, how, and when and I decide if and when he will be able to cum. I don’t deny him much, though. What you just heard was about his pain from his wounds to his penis. He is not to touch it so he needed me to massage it; there are times when his pain is really severe. Peter is usually naked around the house; that’s why he’s here in his robe and why he’s sitting at my feet.”
“But, Carolyn,” Sandra asked, “how do you force him to do all this? Peter is much bigger and stronger than you.”
My Mistress laughed, “I don’t force him at all, Sandra. Peter does it willingly to show how much he loves me, don’t you?” I nodded. “He has agreed to serve as my slave which means he accepts everything I do, even punishment.”
“How do you do that?” asked Cheryl.
“It depends on the offense. If it’s something minor I might just spank him or refuse him an orgasm for a few days. For something serious like cumming without permission I might paddle him. I’ve only had to do that once so far. Truthfully, I disliked it more than he did and he was crying like a baby before I had finished.”
“But, Carolyn? Sex every day? How do you handle that? Doesn’t it get boring after a while?”
“No, Cheryl, it never gets boring when you do it as many ways as we do. Besides regular straight sex in every position known to man, we also have oral in which we love to cum in each other’s mouths and anal both ways, too.”
“Both ways?” It was Cheryl and Sandra simultaneously.
“Yes, of course—Peter fucks my ass and gives me the most incredible orgasms ever and I fuck his ass. Then we both have great ones. I wind up rubbing his prostate with a big vibe and I have a couple of vibes in me, as well. Both ways—both absolutely incredible!” Cheryl and Sandra sat there dumbstruck. Eventually they just rose and left. My Mistress pointed me to the bedroom, “Speaking of both ways, I think it’s your turn this time—your turn to receive. Let’s go, I can hardly wait.” We ran to the bedroom.
I thought things were going well for the first two months when Carolyn suddenly seemed to lose her enthusiasm for being on top. Once again I went out to play golf, something my Mistress graciously allowed. When I returned I found her naked and kneeling on the living room carpet. “Hello, Master. May I serve you? I am sorry, Master, but I cannot replace you. I just don’t have what it takes.”
I walked in and sat on the couch, calling Carolyn to join me. “I can only see two alternatives: one, we go back to the way we were before all this started—back before the cock cage; or, two, I become master." Carolyn grinned wildly and nodded enthusiastically. "However, if I do that I will have some unfulfilled needs. Remember I told you I loved submitting to you…unless…hmmm, I wonder if that would work. Carolyn, I’ll take the role as master, but…you have to agree to switch roles one weekend a month. From, say, six p.m. on Friday night through midnight Sunday night we’ll switch roles. It will give you the opportunity to let me know all the ways I’ve fucked up and It will help keep me grounded.” I knew it was a deal when I saw the twinkle in her eye.
“Great, “ I said elated, ‘now come over here and suck my cock. I have some stress to relieve. My golf game sucks.”