female supremacy

Let’s Eat

“Let’s eat,” Anna announced abruptly. “Eric, you want to eat, right? You are a hungry, hungry boy, aren’t you? Surprise me, be a well-mannered boy whore, and I’ll arraign that very special therapeutic diet you crave.”

All I could think about was pleasing Gina and her beautiful friend. If I were a puppy, my tail would have wagged. If I were a man, my cock would have stood at attention. But my cock was locked in its cage, an erection was impossible, and so what sort of creature had these women made of me? Oh yeah, I was Gina’s obedient tongue animal.

Anna smiled wanly. Her look said that this was too easy, just another male collapsing before her, another supplicant ardently seeking her dominion. Was there anything about this one worth a second glance?

I ached for Anna. This intense yearning to bask in her aura, to do anything she demanded, pried open and spilled something deep in my core. I unraveled, broke. My capacity to follow the routine narrative of the common place became unglued. I experienced Anna as a ravishing slow motion of revolving colors and surfaces imbued with emotive import.

Anna slid off her barstool amid a graceful flowing and fluttering of soft pastels as her full skirt flared. As she alit, her breasts bulged against her white lace bodice and the deep fold of her cleavage swelled. Her long strawberry waves and curls bounced about her bare, elegantly sculpted shoulders and floated around her pale, flawless face like a corona spiraling around some cool and distant sun. Anna’s soft yielding air, her impression of gentle sweetness, and her cerebral calm could not have been more misleading.

Anna put a finger under my chin and brusquely forced my head side to side in a mock examination. “A pretty face, quite serviceable. Perhaps you might make the grade. But perhaps not.” Anna smirked and sauntered off to the dining area. Her bewitching enchantment drifted off behind her, and my painful longing for Anna ebbed. The comforting illusion of normalcy recovered. Then I turned to Gina.

Gina sat on her stool with legs crossed, leaning back against the bar, gloating at the submissive manners of her tongue pet. The red leather of her thigh high boot cut through the long open slit of her full-length, black leather sarong. The gash was so deep that the bare flesh of Gina’s upper thigh flashed above her boot. Hidden in the crease of that white flesh, the dark triangle that held me in thrall lurked. Gina indulged her pet’s lustful ogling of her crotch.

“That’s right, stare at it. It’s all you can think about isn’t it?” Gina pulled her dress to the side and uncrossed her legs. Now I was gawking directly at her cunt. I glanced to the end of the empty bar and saw that the idle bartender was polishing glasses and studiously ignoring us. Gina hissed, “I said look at it. This is the only thing in your world. Nothing else exists for you. Now look me in the eye.” Gina’s eyes were the only thing that could pry my mind from her sex.

She measured me with cool approval. “Eric, I think maybe she likes you. You’ve been good so far. Keep it up, don’t weaken, don’t back down, don’t put your tail between legs and retreat in fear. Cower, but stay. Concentrate—that ought to be easy because all you need to think about is cunt. This is your one chance to become something that most men don’t dare dream of—a purely sexual thing, a servant of cunt. You can leave concern for the boring, mundane, and common place behind. Your role in life will be clear, simple, and most agreeable—to eat pussy and serve women.”

I bowed my head before addressing Gina. “Thank you Gina, but what is this about the whip. I have given up control of my life to you. I have done everything you have demanded. It was not necessary to whip me; I obeyed. The whip, she said it with such glee. Anna frightens me.”

“Good, that’s the idea. Cringe like a beaten dog. We want you to live in fear, a fear that freezes volition, a fear that enthralls, and a fear so pure that any impulse to neglect your duty to womankind is extinguished. The whip will teach you to grovel at the foot of any woman, to open yourself without resistance to her gracious gifts of pain and degradation, and thus be content. You have only begun. You’ll learn; just don’t ask too many questions. We know best.”

Gina stood down from the bar. Her height in her platform boots again surprised and intimidated me. By some inconsequential measure, I was still taller, but I felt smaller. She looked me in the eye, reached a finger under my belt, and pulled on the chain dog leash she had attached to my ball harness. Gina pulled me close and kissed me. Explosive flares of joy, gratitude, and ecstasy blew my heart apart into rapturous streams of red, white, and blue effervescence.

Gina smiled and ran her tongue over my lips. Her touch, her scent, and her beauty governed each beat of my heart, each shiver of my skin, and every quaking thought. “You are a gorgeous man, and so malleable. I love you, but don’t mistake my love for fidelity or kindness. I will have other men and I will hurt you. But you could be my special man, the one I keep. I see in your eyes your cowering need for me, and my heart thrills. I am proud to share you with Anna. She seems to see promise in you. Continue to perform properly and Anna will take you on as her project and remake you into a male worthy of being my consort. I can hardly wait to enjoy the thing you will become.” Gina lightly kissed me again, jerked my chain, and ordered, “Follow me to the dining room.”

I dutifully followed a step behind Gina making her way toward the receptionist where Anna waited. Anna announced, “There will be the three of us. We require only two menus; we will order for the gentleman. My private table.” The receptionist was very young, very pretty, and, in contrast to Anna and Gina, very conventionally dressed. She stared at me with an insolent mixture of curiosity and disgust. Gossip from the valets and the bartender had apparently had reached this innocent tart. Gina, Anna and I were the sensation of the night with the restaurant staff. The girl smiled respectfully at Anna, “Of course. Please come this way.”

The girl led us across the stylish dinning room to a raised alcove off to one side where we could view the goings on in the larger room, but which afforded some minimal privacy. Gina, in her stunning fetish uniform, and Anna all womanly beauty, drew admiring glances, lustful gawking, and envious, reproachful stares from the patrons. As the receptionist seated us, she insolently stared at my crotch. She saw the chain leash leading from my pocket into the front of my pants. She started, and looked at Anna.

“Yes darling, that’s his leash. It’s attached to a harness fastened to his testicles. He’s the property of my good friend here, Gina. You seem surprised, perhaps intrigued. Would you like one like him? You are a lovely young thing and all sorts of men must come on to you all the time. You should consider taking these men on your own terms. That is—make them serve you. Once you realize what a beautiful woman can make men do, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Eric, tell the young lady what you are.”

Remembering Gina’s admonition to be subservient toward all women, and any shred of dignity long blown away, I looked into the girls eyes, bowed my head, and announced, “I am Gina’s cunt licking slave.” My pride surprised me. Was this perverted sort of self-esteem allowed? I reveled in the disgust and desire in the girl’s pretty face as she haughtily examined me from face to crotch.

Anna took a card from her purse. “Take my card. If you are interested, call me. Perhaps we can arraign for you to use him sometime. I am always interested in young, attractive women who have the courage to rest control of their lives from men. Perhaps you can practice on him, or I have several others who would do. But now, leave us and send a server.”

Staggered by the perverse scene and the disturbing possibility of an entirely new approach to her life, the receptionist stared at me as she turned to flee. She reached back to grab Anna’s card and bumped into the waitress standing behind her. The server dodged the fleeing receptionist and said, “Anna please forgive her, she’s new. She is sweet, pretty and dumb, the perfect receptionist. Welcome back Anna. Gina, it is pleasure to see you again also. I am delighted to serve such distinguished women.” The server regarded Anna and Gina with sincere hero worship. She hugged the menus to her breast and asked, “Anna would you like to hear tonight’s specials, or would you have your usual, prime rib rare as I recall?”

“Yes, Darlene, prime rib rare, well trimmed of fat, half portion, a sweet potato, and something green.”

“And Gina, would you like to hear the specials, or perhaps would you like more time and a menu?”

“Slice the other half of Anna’s prime rib and put it on a plate with raw ousters. I have an appetite for slippery things. Ousters, raw. Beef, bloody, no fat. No carbs, no veggies.”

“And for the gentleman?” The server addressed me, but I bowed my head to avoid eye contact. Anna responded for me.

“As you can see this one is not permitted to make its own decisions. Give him a small salad to play with while Gina and I eat. I am evaluating his suitability for enrollment in my most intense program. Darlene, perhaps you could be of some assistance. Insult him. Really molest him verbally; push it. I’d like to test his response to a woman he not acquainted with.”

The server was delighted. “Look at me boy.” A cruel, vengeful smile flashed in her face. This woman hated me, why? Anna had sicked an angry, frustrated bitch on me. Smoldering resentment congested her voice, but she managed a sizzling whisper through her teeth, “Well boy, so you want to become a women’s meat puppet. Do you think a piece of scum like you could serve a female properly? I’ll bet you’re the insolent, cock sure type, a real man who won’t take lip from any woman. But, now you wanna give face. You’re a pathetic joke. You and all the rest like you ought to be crushed under the thumb of a woman like Anna. I don’t think she shouldn’t waste her time on trash like you. You don’t deserve it.”

I should have been ready for Anna’s games, but the ferocity of this common waitress’s anger stunned me. She reveled in her license to abuse me, “I know what she’ll do to you if get lucky, if she takes you. The pain is real bad. I’ve seen her work. I’ve seen the likes of you under her whip—spoiled pretty-boys getting what’s due.

“Look at me, scum. How much shit have you made women eat? Huh? I know your type. I know how all those simple-minded girls fall for degenerates like you, you and your pretty eyes and nice hair. Now Anna’s got you. Good, because Anna’s going to twist you and twist you until you’re the kind of boy that suits the fancy of a real woman. Anna knows what she’s doing; she knows how to whip the repulsive masculine poison out of a male. Yeah, I can see it in your eyes already; you’re a cunt-licking slice of man meat, aren’t you? Speak, meat puppet. Tell me exactly what you are.”

The serving girl’s hissing rant heated to the snarling growl of starving carrion beast. She drew uncomfortable glances distracted from plates of epicurean delight. Was the stink of lowborn nastiness interrupting their fine meal? Snooping heads craned in vain attempts to eavesdrop on the exclusive table above in the alcove.

I knew I must behave, I must make a show of submission, but this was new to me. Upon the command of this ordinary woman, upon a common waitress’s hissy fit, I was expected to humiliate myself. And here in this room filled with all the right kind of people. It was one thing to be the private plaything of sex goddesses like Anna or Gina, or even the pretty receptionist, but for this plain stranger—in public?

In all my life, I would never have given a woman like this a second look, not that she was hideous, just plain, prosaic background. Now in her ordinary eyes I saw angry offense. I saw jealousy because I was the sex servant of the alpha females at the elite table while she merely served food. I saw hate because I was a former alpha male; the thing denied her; the thing that contemptuously ignored her all of her life. I could not humble myself for her, this plain, nothing woman. I smiled at the arrogant serving girl. She was too ordinary, too much the resentful peasant, not at all the imperious ruler, not the same rank as Gina or Anna.

I looked to Gina for help. Her angry eyes commanded me, “Disgrace yourself before this woman now, or you will disgrace me before Anna.” My heart leapt with the realization that my hesitation had left me on the brink of failure. I looked back to the server, bowed my head, and begged, “Madame, I am a slave, Gina’s slave. I do anything she commands. If she allows it, I suck her pussy. If not, I am available for anything else that suits her. If you wish to use me, ask Gina, and upon her command I will let you do whatever you desire.” I bowed my head and prayed that this submission would repair my failure to humble myself immediately before the common hag.

Anna said, “Darlene, we are sorry for that hesitation. This boy has much to learn. Perhaps if he’s suitably trained you may redress his insolent vacillation. But thank you for your assistance in testing him. I have learned something of how far I would have to take him. Now, please, bring us a bottle of wine, something dry and white, and see to our orders quickly.”

The server left and Anna said, “Gina, don’t despair. We can’t expect that he enter the program without flaws. If I take him on, I can grind off the rough edges.” She addressed me, “When Darlene returns make a show of respect.” Then Anna and Gina began reminiscing and gossiping as if I was not there.

The server returned with the wine and poured for Gina and Anna while I worried as to how to make amends. Gina saved me. “Eric, Darlene is entitled to a meaningful apology. I think it would be appropriate for you to kiss her foot. Get down on the floor, under the table, and kiss Darlene’s shoe. I am sure her feet are weary from all the running about she has to do, despite those practical shoes. The sight of a man groveling at her feet might provide some comfort. Look, her shoe has a stain. Clean it off.”

Darlene gave me a cruel smile, and put her off-white canvas shoe forward so that it slipped under the tablecloth. I was mortified. How could I do this? Well, Gina demanded it. Surreptitiously, I slipped off my chair and under the table, hoping none of the other patrons would see. My cock once again swelled against its cage and my ball harness tugged in my crotch as I went under the table. The server’s dirty walking shoe peeked under the tablecloth. I bent over, kissed it, and tried to suck it clean, but the stain of manual labor is indelible. She pulled the shoe back. I knelt under the table between Gina’s boots and Anna elegant slippers. The voices above were muffled.

“Well he didn’t get the stain off, but he did kiss my foot and somehow my aching feet feel better. Gina you have done well with this one. But that other one, Julio, the valet, he brags to everyone every time he fucks you. It’s disgraceful. He’s such an obnoxious young cock. I’d hoped you could train him better. You really shouldn’t let him disrespect you like that. He is an offense to all women.”

“Darlene, don’t you dare tell me what I should or should not do. I will use the pretty, young Julio in any way I please. It is not your place to question me. I should have you whipped for this insubordination. I let you play with my slave and then you forget you place? I will not have it.

“What’s really the matter? Do you want to suck Julio’s dick, but you aren’t pretty enough to interest him? The poor old hag can’t get fucked by the hot young stud. You want that young dick, but can’t get it? Yes, Darlene, Julio’s cock is thick, long, and hard as steel. Maybe I can get some for you. I think that maybe I’ll have Julio fuck you in the ass. Everybody says you like that. Darlene, is that true, do you like it up the dirt hole? I am sure Julio finds you disgusting, but he’ll do anything for me, even butt fucking a dreary old bitch like you. Just to show you my power, to prove that I’m in charge, I’ll have him ream your flabby asshole. Then Julio can brag to everyone how he butt-fucked Darlene while she squealed like a pig. I think the staff would get a big laugh out of that.” Gina spoke calmly and cheerfully as if she where discussing the desert specials.

Anna interrupted, “Gina please stop, that’s enough. Darlene, remember your place. Get our food.” Anna kicked me. “Get up here; be quiet; be invisible.”

When the serving girl sullenly returned, she pushed my salad at me, leaned into my face, and, as if an angry witch cursed, “I will beat you someday. Eat dog.” For the next hour, I played with my salad while Gina and Anna ate, laughed, and ignored me.

When they rose to leave, Gina kicked me, and I followed. Gina and Anna led me across the now crowded restaurant. I felt the stares of the room upon us. Those who comprehended nothing just stared at the sight of the leather clad Gina and her stunning female companion. But those who guessed the true nature of the thing being led through the room by these beautiful women, and there were a number of them including all of the help, these people stared at me, scrutinizing the abject man slave with loathing and envy.

How The World Should Be Run: The Chronicles of Femdom

Chapter 1: Katy Meets Uke

I walked down the busy street passing women in business clothing, leather, dresses, just the normal stuff. The men accompanying the women were mostly nude, but others wore business clothing, leather, dresses…the normal stuff. I passed K9s, sissies, leathers, bois, servants, so many different flavors. Although these are everyday sights I started to feel the emptiness in me come back, I needed a male. I was about to promise myself to visit a slave dealer after work, but then u-turned and headed to the Male Emporium. Every day I promise myself to go after work, but by the time I leave I’m too tired. I think I deserve a day off; I’ve not missed a day in over two years. I e-mailed in sick from my phone, I was going to get my boy. The emporium was two blocks away, which gave me plenty more time to look at the passing boys like I was window shopping, looking for ideas. I couldn’t figure out which of the boys I’d want, I wanted them all.

The lady in the Male Emporium was in a shiny leather outfit, clinging tightly to her small frame. She was telling a boy to grab the broom and sweep the shop’s sidewalk as I walked to the front desk. The boy walked past me, with his head kept down, carrying a broom. He opened the door and walked out wearing his black, frilly French maid outfit. As he stepped out, I noticed the back was open; it was completely backless, besides the tiny string tying it around his slender frame.

“Hello, Darling,” the woman said with a smile, “Are you here to purchase a new boy?”

“If I find one I like I am prepared to pay in full today,” I said.

“Well, I assure you we will have something that you’re sure to enjoy. We have all types of boys here,” she opened the door and entered the back, “follow me miss”.

She lead me through a narrow path that reminded me of a dog pound. There were no beds, only a small cotton blanket in a corner. Two bowls on the floor, next to the door of the cage. The cages were small, just enough room to lie down in and maybe walk in a small circle. A small pang of guilt went through me, but only for a second. They were animals after all, right?

The boys in the cages were all nude, ranging from all sorts. The lady spoke about the different groups, but I wasn’t listening much, my attention was focused on cages. The boys were almost all totally different to each other, besides the few things they all had in common. They all had no body hair, seeing as it was law that they could not. Each had a leather collar locked around their neck, and an ID number etched in a tag. Every boy was on his knees in front of the cage, as if trained to do so. A final similarity they shared in common was silence, none of the boys spoke, whimpered, or whined. It hit me the room was silent, besides the clicking of our heels on the concrete.

We passed Blacks, Whites, Asians, Mexicans, Europeans, almost any nationality I could want. Hair was about half-and-half. Half of the boys were shaved completely, destroying any identity they had, the other half had whatever hair the Emporium let them keep. Ages of all kind behind bars, ranging from teenage to senior.

“Well, you can look around and decide what boy suits your taste and once you’ve decided you can let me know. Paperwork doesn’t take long, and we have a prep room where you can buy whatever needed for your boy. Take your time.”

I walked around the room paying more attention to the boys. They all seemed nice, it would be hard to find the perfect one. Older men are nice because they are experienced and would behave better. Younger would be easier to mold, and not to mention they are cuter. I decided against someone with a shaved head, hair grows, but I’d rather have something to pull now. I was thinking about what I wanted exactly when my eyes fell on one.

He wasn’t looking up at me like the majority of them, so it was hard to make out his face. I could tell he was very young though and that he seemed very boyish. I bent down and asked him to look up at me. I knew that I wanted him once I seen his face. He was a young boy for sure. He had blonde hair that went straight down to above the center of his back. His eyes were crystal blue, but were reddened from tears. He looked very androgynous; if he wasn’t naked he could pass for a girl. He wasn’t well endowed, but he wouldn’t be using his cock much anyway. He was tiny, feminine, pathetic..

“That is a very good choice, Miss,” the lady told me as I signed the paperwork, “I just got him in actually, just turned of age last week.”

American Male Slave Association

Certification of Ownership

ID: 197498

Race: WHT

Ht: 5-4

Wt: 119

Penis: 5/cut

Eyes: BLU

Hair: BLN

DOB: 06/23/1995

Name Given: UKE .

Owner Signature Katy Savage .

The male slave does not speak unless ordered to do so by his Mistress.

The male slave agrees to sign over control of all his assets, monies, or investments to his Mistress for her use, comfort, and disposal.

When in the presents of any Female (regardless of her age) the slave’s view is always lowered to the feet of the Female unless ordered otherwise by his Mistress..

With each question asked by the male slave, the Mistress administers punishment. Male slaves are inferior and always wrong. Males do not have the right to question their Mistress.

In appropriate situations when the Mistress enters or leaves a room the slave takes the basic position.

The slave moves in the following positions:

Basic Position. On the knees sitting, feet together, legs spread, head lowered, arms either on the knees (palms upward) or behind the back, the torso straight.

Rise Position. Standing on the knees, legs spread, (to expose his genitals for punishment) feet together, head lowered, torso straight, and the hands behind the back.

Stand Position. Standing, legs together, arms behind the back, head lowered, torso straight, the hands thereby remain always behind the back and the head lowered to the feet of his Mistress..

The male slave functions at the whim of his Mistress as a piece of furniture, an ashtray, a stool, human toilet, or just a whipping boy for the Superior Females pleasure.

If the Mistress instructs the slave not to speak to any people this speech prohibition applies: the male slave must reply with I apologize: however my Mistress has forbidden me to speak with other people.

Mistress does not accept “Sorry Mistress” as a valid response for incompetence, inadequacy or other failure on the part of the slave! If such a response is used the slave will be punished.

If the Mistress requires a cigarette, then the slave ensures the Mistress has a light, kneels at Her feet and offers his mouth as Her ashtray.

If the Mistress is busy the slave is required to be attentive and resume his basic position with his head bowed to Her feet. He will raise his head on command with mouth open to be used as her ashtray, toilet, or to be spit into to reaffirm his subjugation and devotion to his Mistress.

The slave always walks behind the Mistress but attentive to open doors, take Her coat, etc.

The slave treats all Females, regardless of age, with comparable respect or punishment will follow.

The slave always greets the Mistress by resuming the basic position and kissing Her feet until she tells the slave to stop.

The slave keeps all toys hygienically clean.

The slave carries the Mistresses bags, luggage or any other object that is deemed a burden by his Mistress.

The slave is to be efficient in his service to the Mistress and must kneel and thank her for the privilege of serving Her.

The slave must offer small tokens of appreciation with each attendance while in the company of the Mistress. Failure to do so will be met with a stern slap across his face.

The slave agrees that sex will be non existent except for oral stimulation and worship of his Mistress or any Female in control at that time.

The slave completes all instructions completely or severe punishment will follow.

The male slave further understands and agrees that he is nothing more than chattel. A piece of property owned by his Mistress and may be loaned, rented, or sold to any other Females at any time, or disposed of as his Mistress deems necessary.

There wasn’t much paperwork involved other than the basics, it was mostly like changing a title over. I chose a name and signed a few dotted lines and that was it…He was mine.

Before we left we went into the Emporium’s prep room. It was filled with all sorts of outfits and toys. He wouldn’t need a lot of outfits, but I did like clothes. I settled for a maid outfit, a leather suit, a couple dresses and skirts, and puppy play gear. He didn’t need work clothes, since I had an important job I did not really need a money slave. Toys I would get as we went along, but I did get a few basics, chastity device, locking cuff and collar set, gags, plugs, lotions, massage oils, et cetera.

I left the shop with my boy, walking him for the first time. I felt empowered as I took him down the street. He walked behind me, carrying my bags, as I guided him on a leash.

Copyright 2011 Peter Omez, all rights reserved.

The next day, Sunday, we all slept late. I was awakened to Kiera’s voice, when she popped her head into her mother’s room to say, “Davey, it’s 11:00. You need to call Patty and tell her we’ll pick her up at 12. We all need to get up. Get up, Mom. Davey, make coffee.”

As I stood in the kitchen yawning and scooping coffee into a filter, I became aware of how incredibly sore my blistered ass was from the belt beating Kiera had given me the night before. The wine I drank at the reunion, and at Patty’s, must have numbed me a little and made the beating less painful at the time. That was hard to believe, but man, was I sore that morning. I just hoped I’d actually be able to sit down.

I called Patty on my cell phone and told her we would pick her up at 12. “Oh. OK. I just need to be at work at the video store at 4.” I said I didn’t think that would be a problem, but I’d ask Kiera to be sure. “Do you remember how to get to my house?” she asked. I did. Patty didn’t have a cell phone, only a land-line residential phone, and this was before GPS systems in cars. So it was important to have directions then, or know how to get places.

The four of us rode in “Kiera’s” car, the one that no longer belonged to me until Kiera got a new one. Now that she knew what kind of payment I — or rather, she — could afford, she would be shopping for a car as soon as we got back to Trentstown. Anyway, Kiera drove, and Darcy sat up front with her. Aunt Jane and I sat in the back, and apparently Patty was going to have to squeeze back there with us. We got to Patty’s house, and I got out and went to the door. When she came out, we gave each other a little kiss and walked to the car. I opened the back door for her and let her in, then I started to get in beside her, but Aunt Jane said, “Get in over here, Davey.” So I went to the other side, and we rode to my parents’ house with Aunt Jane sitting between us.

They all introduced themselves to Patty, who was very sweet and pleasant. Aunt Jane quizzed her, asking all kinds of questions about her life, her job, whether she’d been married, whether she had kids, had she lived in Bellewood all her life, etc. etc. I didn’t even get to talk to her on the way over. Also, Kiera and Darcy decided to each have a cigarette in the car before they got to my parents’ house, where smoking wasn’t allowed inside. I really wished that they would wait, at least for Patty’s sake. But it didn’t seem to bother Patty.

At my parents’ house, Patty met my mother and father, my sister Karen and my little niece Maya, my Aunt Polly (my mother’s other sister), my uncle Rick, and their daughter, my cousin Stacy, Stacy’s husband, and their two kids. They all loved Patty. Who couldn’t love her? Always smiling, so sweet and kind to everyone. Most of the women of my family had an edge to them. Obviously Kiera and Aunt Jane did, but Karen, for her part, could be kind of stern. And my mother was no one to trifle with, either. Patty was so refreshing, affectionate and warm.

At one point, Patty and I were sitting on the couch, talking, and holding hands, and Kiera sat down in a nearby chair. She teased us a little over how we must have really hit it off at the reunion the night before, and how surprised she was when her cousin called her and told her he had a date. I felt really silly, having my imperious 24-year-old cousin talking to us 38-year-olds like we were a couple of puppy-love teenagers. But Patty blushed and giggled, and didn’t seem to mind at all. Then Kiera made the color drain from my face when she said, “He didn’t take his tie off at your place, did he?”

Patty said, “No. He didn’t, actually. He loosened it.” She thought Kiera meant the necktie I wore to the reunion … the one actually around my NECK.

“Loosened it?” Kiera’s eyebrows went up.

I said to Patty, “She doesn’t mean my … um … it’s … it’s … uh, an inside joke.”

“Inside joke,” laughed Kiera. “Yeah. More like an underneath joke.”

I stiffened up a little (and I don’t mean in the crotch). Kiera was laughing, and Patty was smiling but looking at both of us quizzically. Then I saw Kiera lick her lips, and then kind of purse them as she stared at us for a moment. “Come here, Patty,” she said, and suddenly got out of her chair and left the room. Patty immediately got up and followed her, so I reflexively lifted myself off the sofa slightly, starting to get up. But then I wondered if I should follow. Kiera always had a way of catching me off guard. I never knew what she’d do. But realizing she had only told Patty to follow, I decided I should stay put.

In a minute or two, Patty returned and sat back down beside me. She took my hand again, and smiled. She didn’t say anything, so I asked, “What was that about?”

“She told me what she meant.”

Once again, the color drained from my face. Surely Kiera did NOT just tell my new girlfriend that I had a necktie restraining my dick. She couldn’t have told her that. Could she? No. She couldn’t have, because if she had, Patty would have run out of the house screaming. Right? Kiera must have made something up.

“What did she tell you?”

Patty glanced around, and softly said, “She told me what she was talking about. The tie.” Then she nodded at me as if to say, That’s all I can say out loud.

“But what exactly did she say?”

Patty brought her mouth right up to my ear so she could whisper and be sure no one could hear. “She told me she makes you wear a necktie around your dick.”

My mouth dropped open. OH MY GOD! Kiera really did tell her! And yet, Patty came back to the couch to sit beside me? And she was holding my hand? How could that be?

I took Patty by the hand and led her to the back door so we could step outside and talk privately about this. But when we got to the door, I saw Aunt Jane standing out there smoking. So we went to the front of the house and out the door. I asked Patty, “So … she told you … um … uhhh … what else did she say?”

“She said you’re living there with her and Darcy, and she saw you get a boner one day, so since then she makes you wear a tie around your dick to keep it from popping up, and … you know … so you don’t get a boner in front of them.”

“Uhhh. And what did you say?”

“I said that made perfect sense. Seemed like a good idea.”

“Uhhhh. Um. Really?”

“Yeah. It makes sense. Two very pretty young girls, living in the same house with you. I mean, I know Kiera’s your cousin, but you’re a man, and you get aroused. She also said you’re supposed to keep it on all the time, so she just wondered if you took it off last night when you were with me.”

“Uhhhhh …”

“Then she told me she just ordered a locking chastity device for you, so once that’s on, she’ll know for sure you can’t get a boner, or masturbate in the house. She said she doesn’t want you masturbating, ever, because it grosses her out.”

I was speechless. I just looked at Patty for a long time, with my mouth hanging open, and shaking my head slightly. Finally I asked her, “And you … you don’t … think this is really weird?”

She shrugged. “It’s unusual. But it makes sense to me.” She sidled up closer to me, and put her arms around my waist. She turned her face upward, smiling and dreamy-looking. We kissed. She said, “I think it’s really sweet. It’s very considerate of you to do this for her, so she feels comfortable. This way she and Darcy both feel safe. They don’t feel like they’re living with a pervert.”

They DON’T feel they’re living with a pervert? To Patty, all this was NOT perverted? I guess it’s true what Aunt Jane and Kiera say about me: I just do not understand women.

At around 3:30, Kiera asked Patty, “You need to be at work at 4, right? Do you need to go home first?”

“No, I have my purse with me. I can go straight there, and I can get a ride home.”

“OK. Well, you have 15 minutes, lovebirds. Then I’ll take you to work, Patty.”


In 15 minutes, Kiera was back. “Give your girlfriend a kiss, Davey. I gotta take her to work.”

Patty and I kissed, and then Kiera said, “Tell her you love her, Davey.” I thought it was a little soon for that, but Kiera had really put me on the spot. So I said, “I love you.”

“Awww,” Patty said. “I love you, too.” And we kissed again. “Call me tonight? I get home about 11:15.”

“OK,” I said. I was usually in bed by 11, and I had to work in the morning, but I knew I would be anxious to talk to her again. I watched her follow Kiera out the door.

It was after 4:30 when Kiera returned. The video store wasn’t far; it shouldn’t have taken her that long. But I found out why she lingered there: As soon as she hit the door of my parents’ house, she called out, “Daaarcyyyy!! Where are you, girl?” Darcy appeared from another room.


“Come on, we’re takin’ a ride. You gotta meet this hot guy that works at the video store.”

Later that evening, we had a light supper at Aunt Jane’s before heading back to Trentstown. While I did the dishes, Kiera and Darcy and Aunt Jane sat at the kitchen table raving about Patty. They loved her! She’d met with their approval. They were giving their blessing to the relationship. “She passed the test with flying colors,” Kiera said. “The real test was when I told her I made you tie up your dick, and not only that, I’d just ordered you a locking chastity device. And she was like, ‘Oh, OK, that makes sense.’ Hahahahaha!! I thought, Ohhh-kayy! This one’s a keeper. Hahaha. I could see Davey was scared shitless, but I thought, We’ve gotta see what this girl’s made of. You should thank me, Davey.”

I wasn’t sure if that was an order, but I was learning it was best not to take chances. “Thank you, Kiera,” I said.

“YOUUU … are welcome!! Put your dishrag down, Davey, and dry your hands. Then come over here and kiss my feet and thank me.”

Once I had the car loaded, Kiera and Darcy and I headed home. I was able to snooze a little in the back seat, even with the loud music playing, and the cigarette smoke. Oh, and I also had to listen to them fawning over this guy Tyler, at the video store. How hot he was, how they all had each other’s numbers and they were certainly gonna have to hook up with him whenever they came back to Bellewood, or how they were gonna get him to come visit in Trentstown.

When we got home, they went in and of course made me unload the car. Kiera said when I got home from work Monday, I needed to start moving out of my room, and move my stuff upstairs, to the third floor. Darcy would be taking my room. (This made twice in as many months I was forced out my room to make way for a girl, as now I was apparently fully immersed in a Girl Power world.) I was to leave the bed in the room, since Darcy didn’t have a bed to move. Also they were going to need me to help them move stuff from where Darcy was living now. I suspected that meant they would sit at the other place and goof off while they made me do everything.

The third floor was a finished attic but hadn’t been used in a while. It was mostly my storage area, but there were two bedrooms at the top of steep stairs. One was open, to one side of the landing. On the other side was a smaller room with a door. There were no closets. I didn’t have a bed up there, so I’d either need to find myself a bed which could be carried up the narrow steps, or just throw a sleeping bag on the floor.

Sunday night at about 11:20, I called Patty. Since Kiera and Darcy were in the living room watching TV, our phone conversation was constantly interrupted by Kiera telling me to bring them something to drink, or a snack, or whatever else popped into her head. I tried going upstairs to talk to Patty privately, but Kiera would keep calling me back downstairs. Of course Patty could hear what was going on, and it embarrassed me for her to know I was treated like the servant of the house.

I asked her, “So what did you think of my family?”

“I love your family.”

“How about … ahem … you know who [I lowered my voice] … her majesty, my cousin?”

“Hahaha. She IS bossy. But there’s nothing wrong with that. I like her. She’s spunky. No one will ever mess with her. That’s a good thing. I coulda used more spunk when I was living with the assholes I’ve lived with. You know?”

“Yeah. That’s a point, I guess.”

“And she’s not mean-spirited. She REALLY cares about … like … about HER people. You know what I mean? I bet she’s very loyal. She would defend the people she loves. She would fight for them, you know?”

“Well … yeah … I guess I see that.”

“Oh, I need to tell you: When she took me to work, we drove up to the front of the store, and she was gonna just drop me off. But she looked through the front window and saw Tyler, this kid I work with. She’s like, ‘Hmmmm, who’s THAT? Hold on, girl, I’m gonna park. I’m comin’ in with you, you gotta introduce me to him.’ Hahaha. So I did, and she stood there flirting with him for like a half hour. He stopped doing any work, so I had to wait on everyone, haha.”

“Yeah, I heard all about TYYYLERRR on the way home, pff. How old is he?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s only like 19. Kiera’s 24, right?”


“Hahaha. Cradle-robber. Then she left and came back like 5 minutes later with Darcy, and they both flirted with him. Hahaha. I had no help for like an hour, I was doing everything. One customer even said something like, ‘Looks like your partner is in la-la land at the moment. Wonder why.’ I’m like, ‘Gee, I don’t know’, haha.”

Then we talked about Aunt Jane. Patty said, “Your aunt looks older than I expected. How old is she?”

“She is … mmm … 59, I think.”

“And Kiera’s only 24? So does she have older siblings?”

“No, she’s an only child. Aunt Jane was wild when she was young. I don’t think she had any interest in family until she got old enough that she probably thought, ‘Well … the clock is ticking here, if I don’t have children now, I’ll never have any.’ So she had Kiera, which settled her down, I guess.”

“What about Kiera’s dad?”

“He’s dead. That was my Uncle Herb. He died just a few years ago. Heart attack.”

“Oh, so he must not have been very old.”

“Well, he was quite a bit older than Aunt Jane. He was around 70. He was in his 50s when Kiera was born. Anyway, yeah, it’s weird because Aunt Jane is like the generation ahead of you and me, and Kiera’s like a generation behind. So … how’d you get home from work?”

“Tyler gave me a ride. Oh, another thing: On the way to work, in the car, Kiera said, ‘So when are you comin’ to Trentstown to visit us?’”

“Oh, she did? And what did you say?”

“I said, ‘Well, I don’t know. Soon, I hope.’”

“Oh, of course. You can come any time you want.”

“Well … I usually have Tuesday and Wednesday off.”

“Great! Do you wanna come?”

“Of course. I could even leave tomorrow night after work, but I wouldn’t get there until like 2 AM. Or I could just come Tuesday morning.”

“Well, but then I wouldn’t get to see you until I got home from work Tuesday. So if you want to come tomorrow night, I’d love that.”

“OK.” She said it with a lift in her voice. Her “OK” was always cheerful-sounding, unlike my usually reluctant, or resigned, “OK”, uttered often to Kiera and Aunt Jane.

As happens when you’re in love, I couldn’t sleep very well Sunday night. I went into work tired on Monday, not only from too little sleep but because I’d had a very eventful weekend. Fortunately, I was able to snooze on the bus ride home a bit. But I still dragged my ass into the house after walking from the bus stop. Often Kiera and Darcy aren’t home when I get home from work. I was hoping this would be such a day, so I could go inside and take a nap. No such luck. Without so much as a hello, Kiera laid out the itinerary for the evening: She picked out a car that day, so get changed out of my work clothes, because we were going to the dealership. (The car needed to be in my name, because without a job, Kiera wouldn’t be able to get financing.) After the paperwork was done on that, the girls would drive the new car over to Darcy’s apartment, and I was to follow. There was moving to do.

On the way to the dealership, I told Kiera that Patty would be arriving late that night. “Ohhhh, great!” she said. “Ooh, we should call her and tell her to bring Tyler!”

Darcy said, “Heyyyy, yeah!”

“Give me her number, Davey, I’m gonna call her and … oh wait … she doesn’t have a cell phone, right? Well, wait, I can just call Tyler … well, no … I’ll wait ’til we get to the dealership.”

“I’ll call him,” offered Darcy.

“No, I’ll call him.”

“I can call him, what’s the difference?”

“No … no! Gimme that phone, slut, you’re not callin’ him. Gimme it! Gimme the phone!”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll let you call him.” Darcy started to put the phone away.

“No, don’t put it away, give it to me. Gimme the phone, bitch.”

“OK, OKaaay. Jeeezus. Bossy bitch.” And she handed Kiera her phone. They continuing “arguing”, but their tones were playful.

“You’ll get it back after I talk to him. He already thinks you’re cuter, I think. I want him to know he has to go through me to get to you. Remember, we agreed? We share this boy.”

“I know. Gahhhd. Haha. Cunt.”


“Skanky ho.”

“Hahaha. You hear this shit, Davey? I’m gonna take your belt to HER if she don’t shut up and behave.”

“Nuh UH! I’ll take the belt to YOUR ass. Someone needs to.”

“Oh, bullll SHIT! You better remember whose roof you’re living under. You’re under MY roof now, bitch, it’s MY rules. You better know your place. I’ll demote you in the pecking order like that.” She snapped her fingers. “You’ll be lower than Davey. I’ll give him back your room and make YOU move upstairs. Or I’ll make you sleep in the garage, ya fat cunt.”

“Uh huh. Whatever.”

They continued teasing each other, with Darcy sticking out her tongue at Kiera, and Kiera acting like she was going to backhand Darcy.

Then Kiera said, “It’s very important to know your place. Isn’t that right, Davey?”


“God, Davey, why are you always so slow? The correct answer is ‘Yes, Kiera, it’s very important. And that’s why I know my place, which is BELOW … ALL … WOMEN.’ Say it.” She kept her right hand pointing back at me while she looked forward, driving.

“Um, yes, Kiera, it’s important to know your place. Umm … and I know mine, which is … uh, below … all women.”

“Awwww,” said Darcy. “Davey, you are such a sweetheart. Mwah.” She turned her head enough to blow me a kiss.

“There you go flirting again,” said Kiera. “Ya little slut. I’m watchin’ you. I’m tellin’ you right now, if you so much as lay a fingernail on Tyler before I do, I’ll pull all your hair out.”

“YES MAAA’AM!” retorted Darcy. Now Kiera kept her finger pointed at Darcy instead of me.

When we arrived at the dealership, Kiera parked and then called Tyler. He answered, even though he was at work, with Patty, at the video store. Kiera told him Patty was coming to Trentstown after work, and he should ride along. He said he couldn’t, because he had to work on Tuesday.

“Hmm,” said Kiera. “Well, what nights are you usually off?” He said Fridays and Saturdays. “Get the fuck outta here,” she said. “Really? Dude, you work at a video store and they let you off on the busiest nights? Wow. That’s awesome.” Then she found out he had worked the last Saturday night to cover Patty so she could attend the reunion. “You gonna come see us Friday, then? Or Thursday night? I oughtta make Patty bring you tonight and then take you back tomorrow, ’cause she owes you haha. We wanna see you.”

My heart sank as I listened from the back seat. Was Kiera really going to cut my time short with Patty just so she and Darcy could see this kid again as soon as possible? Hell, she would have to go back to Bellewood before I even got off work. Patty and I would only get a little time tonight when she arrived, and then maybe a little time in the morning before I had to go to work.

Eric and Gina: Chapter 4

And so the love affair of Gina and Eric took another twisted step. Yes, it was a love affair, not a sweet romance, but as close to love as either of them could manage. Although their relationship was as unequal as possible, in a warped way they were perfect compliments, like a fist in a tight leather glove.

(At this point, we must temporarily leave our story. For very good reasons, this site does not permit description of adolescent sex. However, a complete elucidation of human personality, especially regarding sexuality, requires an understanding of how the adult emerges from the adolescent. If the reader wants this part of Eric and Gina’s back-story, they must search for it. Suffice it to say Eric was popular and promiscuous.Gina was a distant loner. Eric’s best friend and partner was a chubby girl named Veronica who, to be near the charismatic Eric, advised him in the art of seduction. Then the sociopathic Eric left for college, dumping Veronica without a thought or a goodbye. Living a thousand miles away, Gina was the gorgeous target of every boy’s desire. However, she was pathologically shy, and so she withdrew into her private world of art and fantasy. Now we return to the lead edge of the narrative as Eric and Gina’s adult lives play out. The story continues…)

Face It Chapter 5

“So Eric, did you drink all of it? I wouldn’t want a mess on the couch.” Gina shoved my face out of her cunt and checked the cushions for dampness.

“Good boy, it’s nice and dry. You did an excellent job of sucking up all of my pussy juice…and his goo. There was a lot, wasn’t there honey tongue? Oh, don’t look so sad. You want to please me, right? Every woman should have a male tongue at her disposal. Face it my obedient tongue pet, giving face is all you’re any good for, but at least you’re good at that. Your tongue is soft and sensitive, yet strong and thick, and it is has absorbed its cunt lapping lessons well. Maybe I’ll give up strange cock all together and just stick with your tongue…well, not really.” Gina laughed heartily at her stupid, cruel joke. As cold and mean as Gina could be, she laughed a lot, and I cherished her laugh. But my heart was breaking.

“My, my, look at that big hard dick. Does that mean you still love me? Yeah, I think so. But maybe it just means you like cleaning another guy’s cream out of my pussy. Was it yummy? Or maybe you’ve got that big hardon because you like sticking your face into my juicy hole, or maybe just the humiliation turns you on? Poor Eric, you’re all mine now. You have no idea how much fun I am going to have with you. Let’s see, did you make a mess on the floor? That big cock of yours didn’t squirt all over, did it? I guess not. See, you can be a good boy when you try, when you accept your place.”

Gina was having her fun with me. I thought, “Its ok darling; I love you. Use me.”

“Ah, but what to do about that hardon? I cannot believe I once let you put that thing inside of me. Don’t get me wrong, I still like cock, big, hard cocks deep inside, and I will enjoy lots of them, but with real men, not you. Look at that thing, that desperate piece of meat, my good soldier standing at attention waiting for orders. I suppose you want me to let you come? Sorry, that is not happening. Not now, maybe not ever. How long has it been now, three weeks right? You poor thing, your nasty mistress hasn’t let you come in three weeks. No wonder that thing’s so hard.

“But you did promise to be my pussy sucking slave boy, right? That means no more fucking. Not with me for sure. But don’t despair; it could be that one of my girl friends will want to use your cock. You are a pretty boy and that big cock might look like a treat to some girls, the weak, horny, cock starved type. So maybe one of my girl friends will use you for something other than face. I might let her, we’ll see. But it could just be that your fucking days are over, not counting tongue fucking of course. That’s what being a cunt sucking slave is all about.”

I was hopelessly lost in her spell. I knelt before Gina still dressed, except my pants were pulled down to my knees. My cock jutted out below my disheveled suit jacket. I could not resist surrendering to her humiliating abuse. I craved more, more, and even more. How did she make me pine for her cruelty? I tempted my tormenter, “Yes Gina, thank you. Thank you for using my face. Thank you for letting me clean your pussy. I hate the thought of another man’s come inside of you. But my balls ache they’re so full. Please, may I touch myself so that I can come?”

I knew this would annoy Gina. I halfheartedly hoped my begging might amuse her and that my full embrace of this appalling disgrace might have earned me a reprieve from her regime of denial. Gina had taught me the ritual of begging for permission to masturbate while kneeling at her feet. It had been my only relief for months, but for the past three weeks, Gina would not permit even that.

I had disobeyed early in Gina’s rein of orgasm management by jacking off when she was out. Somehow, she knew, and she punished my transgression with an intense barrage of verbal abuse, and threats to abandon me. From then on she hefted my balls when she got home, claiming she could tell if I had masturbated. Her examinations ended with a painful squeeze and a warning slap to my sack, “Good boy, there full and juicy.” I was too deep under her spell to doubt or disobey.

“Let you beat off? No. No orgasms for you. No fucking way. You may not play with that dirty thing. You agreed to be governed by me, and so now a new rule. Not only may you not touch yourself without permission, and you may not even beg for permission. Got it? Live with it, cunt sucker. I’m sick of your whining.

“Orgasms make you lazy. Frustration spawns diligence and obedience. And you need to be more diligent, more dedicated to serving me. You need to extinguish your selfish, perverted desires. All you every think about is yourself and your ever-ready dick. You say you will serve, but I have my doubts. You’re a weak, self-indulgent slut boy. Obedience must be total, immediate, and reflexive.” Gina snapped her fingers. I bowed, my eyes teared, and my mouth watered. My balls ached.

“You will serve my comfort, anticipate my whims, vanish when I am bored with you, and be at my feet whenever a fleeting urge to use you floats across my mind. So don’t bore me. I know your big bad balls are full of juice and you ache to empty them. That’s way I like it; that will be your permanent condition. Those heavy balls are just going to swing in their pendulous sack, driving you mad, twisting that need to spill into a need to serve. So don’t whine or I will throw you out. Now, let’s see if you have been listening. Repeat the new rule.”

“I may not masturbate without permission, and I may not ask for permission. I will obey. Thank you for the new rule. Thank you for being strict goddess. I need that, thank you.” Gina was right; the aching load in my ball sack demanded deeper submission more abuse. She was right; that weight dragged me down, down toward some fearful abyss.

“You should thank me for my instruction, and I like being called goddess. You should express your gratitude more often. I have discussed your situation with several knowledgeable friends and they all agree that denying orgasms is an excellent technique for strengthening the instinct to obey in submissive males. But don’t despair. I may let you come eventually, but at a time and in a manner of my choosing, and only if you are a good boy, of course.”

A dry lump of anxiety throbbed in my throat. “Friends?” The reminder that the there was a world other than Gina blindsided me. “She told others what she is doing to me?” I was on the verge of tears. “Why I am agreeing to this. But this sick surrender to Gina is hypnotic; I need her tyranny. Can the denial of fulfillment fulfill? My balls are so full they might burst. Gina has thrown me into a pit. Is there release at the bottom? Is there a bottom? But she is right; the longer she keeps me on the edge, the further I fall, and the further I fall the deeper and darker my need to submit becomes. I am lost.”

Gina’s harangue was unrelenting, “Now that you have agreed to be my permanent cunt sucking slave, it’s time for you to meet a special friend. Anna is a renaissance woman; she knows more about more things than anyone I know. She especially knows men and their proper use. One of her many interests is relationship consulting, couples counseling. Anna is a real expert in teaching men to respect women, and she said she might accept you as a patient. It will take much more than simple promises to make you into a truly respectful submissive. I know you’re a lying pussy hound that would say anything to get what it wants when it is in heat. Strict obedience training is required. Your disorder must be treated.

“So tonight we are going to visit Anna for an evaluation. If she accepts you as a patient, we will begin a course of treatment. Dr. Anna has the cure, healing through service, an intense male training program in the art of serving women. There is hope for you. But if she doesn’t accept you, well, I guess I’ll find for someone better suited to be my cunt licker. I have a couple of other guys in mind if you don’t work out. But hopefully Anna accepts you and forces you to become exactly what I want.

“You are pretty enough, and seeing you down there on your knees I think you just might have the natural instinct necessary for your new position in life. I think Anna will appreciate your potential, that is, if you behave. You will behave won’t you? You are not going to embarrass me in front of my friend, right? You will show Anna that you are the kind of boy who wants to learn to respect women properly, right? Promise?”

“I will do anything to please you Gina. I will try to be good and become what you wish.”

“I hope so, because if you fuck up I will hurt you, hurt you badly. Then I will leave you. Understand? But I think this will work out just right. I know you; I know what you need. You will do whatever it takes to interest Anna because she is a beautiful woman, and you are a hopeless flirt. But more importantly, she just the kind of woman your secret soul desires—a very, very strong woman.

“Now let’s get ready for Anna. Follow me to the bedroom. Crawl.”

Gina’s lovely ass rolled away, her tight turtleneck clinging to her slim body like a little black dress. I could just make out the fold where her naked legs met her perfect ass, the nexus of my desire, my nirvana. The hypnotizing undulation gestured to me, easing my anxiety. I salivated, the lump in my throat slacked, and I crawled behind.

Gina walked to the dresser she had appropriated as her own and looked into the mirror, checking her make-up, primping, and admiring herself. She placed her hands on the dresser, leaned forward, spread her legs, and arched her back. The turtleneck rode up over the curve of her ass. I thrilled at the sight. Gina’s buttocks opened slightly; below her slit peeked through the furrow in the dark kinky hair.

Gina had introduced ceremonial ass kissing during the past weeks of total servitude. I crawled to my position. On my knees, hands patient at my side, my face inches from the smooth skin of Gina’s flawless ass I waited for Gina’s command. “Open it up, but just look; don’t touch me with your tongue.” I gently spread Gina’s ass cheeks revealing her pink, puckering anus. Her aroma swaddled me. “It’s been a long day running around, shopping, visiting friends, fucking. It was all quite exhausting. My asshole needs to be cleaned. Is all sweaty and stinky?”

I lied, “No, Gina. You smell great. May I please lick it?”

“Well Eric darling, I’m not sure. Can you do a good job? I thought all of the practice you’ve had would have made your tongue stronger, but last time I was quite disappointed that you didn’t get that tongue in deeper. I don’t think you properly appreciate the honor of serving me. So try a harder. Dig in. Eat.”

Gina giggled and thrust her ass into my face. With a long slurping stroke, I lapping her full length from slit through crack. Then I fixated on Gina’s anus—tasting, messaging, exploring. I cleaned the tiny exterior folds then, with squirming, insistent thrusts, plunged my tongue into the slick inner entry. Gina waggled her bottom in a slow rhythmic dance while I followed her smooth motion, glued to her hole.

Gina pressed back against my face and strained. Her anus bulged. Permission granted. I drove into her, pumping my tongue, simulating a sinuous little cock. Gina’s breathe pulsed with intensifying sexual arousal. Tongue fucking her tight ass was much harder than tonguing her deep juicy cunt. I drove as deeply as I could manage. I opened my mouth, placed my lips her skin and sucked to gain leverage. My tongue soon ached from the effort. Twisting, lapping, and swirling, my tongue wormed its way past the tight squeeze of Gina’s sphincter. I agonized that I couldn’t reach deeper, that my tongue wasn’t longer and stronger, and that my face didn’t have a true cock to satisfy my love. I despaired to demonstrate my gratitude.

All the while Gina languidly frigged her clit while admiring herself in the mirror.

Suddenly Gina stopped, turned, and grabbed me by the hair on the back of my head. She forced my face back and looked intently down into my face. “Enough. It’s clean. A decent attempt, but you’ve a lot to learn.” I looked up into Gina’s mesmerizing eyes. “Your tongue is a pathetic excuse for a cock.” She smiled and spit directly into my face.

“Stand and get naked.” Gina pushed me away, carried her wine to the bed, and relined. Gina critiqued as I stripped for her, “You have a nice body. Anna likes men with slim, muscular bodies. Put your hands behind your head. Spread your legs, suck in your gut; chest out; arch your back; eyes down. Good, a very nice pose. Anna is going to love you; she is going to love this piece of man meat I am bringing to her. And you are going love Anna’s strict course of instruction. Enough, I’m getting bored with you. Go draw a bath. I need to clean your slaver off. Get out of my sight.”

Leaning back and taking up her wine, Gina waved her hand and sent me away. I fretted, “Get her bath. Yes, dear, of course. But who is this Anna? Gina has been discussing me with her, and she set up an appointment for an evaluation. What’s next? Gina said a strict course of instruction. What more is there to learn; what more can they make me do? Gina has already made this appointment? How did she know I would agree to this outrageous demand, especially after she fucked another man and stuck my face into her cunt dripping with his come? If I refused, would she take him to be her slave instead? What has she told this Anna about me?

“Gina talked to other women about me too, talked about making me a more submissive male. How long has this been going on? What more can I do? Will I be shown to these other women? Will Gina show me to them like dog in a pet show? It is one thing to play the role of Gina’s slave here in private, but to be embarrassed in front of other women?

“This Anna is a couples counselor or a relationship guru. What does that mean, is she some sort of pop shrink? Gina told Anna what I am, what I do for her. How can I face that woman? Anna teaches men to respect woman. Does that mean Anna will be a partner in our sex games? I don’t want other women to see me like this.

“These are dangerous sex games; just with Gina I am lost; what will this Anna do to me? I have surrendered my body and my soul to Gina. She has taken my home; she has somehow taken my job; she has wrecked what was my life. She has just made me eat another man’s come out of her cunt. I am so revolted with myself I could wretch, but she wants more. I want more; I want to give more, but what more can I give. What more can Gina take? What more can this Anna scrape out of me”

I knelt on the hard wet floor by the tub as it filled with hot water and the bathroom clouded with steam. Gina padded naked across the floor and eased into the water without a ripple of acknowledgement of my attendance.

In the sultry fog, I dreamed:

She is a magic water nymph floating in a warm pool. Her dark eyes gaze off into nothing, seeing things beyond my understanding. Her slim legs converge at the dark thatch cloaking my shrine. Her slender arms coil over her shoulders, fingers entwine behind her graceful neck, slick streams of black hair flow upon a face so lovely I might cry. She closes her eyes and sees yet deeper. She stretches; her finely muscled back arches; her grace enthralls…

A she-cat slinks through a labyrinth of shadows below a sun-dappled rainforest drowning in humidity. The heated feline slips into the shady flow of a jungle stream warm and thick as blood, transforming into a serpentine river spirit.

Her large dark nipples swell to an erection upon her ideal body. The water idol is oblivious to her servant kneeling by the edge of her tranquil pool. A bead of moisture runs to the edge of her dreaming eye, hangs, then, races down her flawless cheek. She shimmers.

Worry troubles my reverie. Steaming water fogs the air; mist clogs my sight; clouds muddle my soggy judgment. I knell eyes downcast, cock rock hard, unfulfilled. How did my life come to this?

June 2018
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