Please remember that this story is fantasy. Do not try to do this at home. I wonder where he gets these ideas!?????
Shari
Dog Sits I always shudder
when she says that, but cause she is always right. My ass was still sore
from the pounding my mistress had given me last night, and my cock was
still bound in the chastity belt that I am made to wear. But my love for
this beautiful and powerful woman makes me more than willing to put up
with the pain she likes to inflict. The fact is, I like the pain too.
Knowing that I was not to ask her to release my arms from the restraints
that held my elbows together, I waited patently as she slid off the bed.
As I waited for her I laid my head on the bed to relax the muscles in my
neck. Seeing that she stoked my ass and said, “relax while you can
love. Today I am going to try something new.” With that she dug her
nails into my ass, making me scream. I grabbed a fold of the sheet in my
teeth to help bear the pain, but nothing could keep my ass and legs from
twitching under her assault. By stifling my cries I got to hear the sigh
my love makes when one of her acts stimulates her clit. I knew that she
was getting wet, and thought that she might climb back on the bed for me
to begin again. Instead she just laughed, and swatted my ass. “Not now,”
Shari said. “We have things to do.” She released my arms and legs,
and told me, “get washed quickly. I want you done in 3 minutes so that
you can draw my bath.” I knew better
than to delay, so I hopped to, literally; my arms and legs were stiff
from the restraints. When she walked into the bathroom less than 5
minutes later I was there, on my knees, holding soap in my mouth and a
washcloth in one hand and a loofa sponge in the other. Bath time is one of my
favorite times of the day, and weekends were best because of the
leisurely way in which Shari lets me serve her. An hour later I was
drying her off with a fluffy bath towel, kissing and licking the small
drops of water from her crotch. “Get
breakfast,” she said. “But none for you. You can have some coffee,
but I think you will want your stomach empty today. Pam is coming over,
and she is bringing something I want to use on you.” Now THAT scared me.
Usually my pain tolerance is high enough that she does not worry WHAT
she does to me. And Pam is the only woman who I am actually terrified
of. The day Shari introduced her to me I immediately got off on the
wrong foot by not kissing it: My mistress requires me to kneel and kiss
the feet of her other dominate friends, but looking at Pam’s
girl-next-door face and broad smile, I did not realize that she was also
a dominate. Pam was still smiling as she kicked me in the nuts to double
me over, but there was no mistaking the steel in her voice as she
twisted my arm behind me and proceeded, one by one, to dislocate the
fingers on my left hand. Her tying me up so that she could snap them
back into place was NOT the most painful thing that she did to me that
day, and ever since I have been terrified I might do something wrong in
her presence. Not that it helped; every time I saw Pam it was like
getting a visit from a demon from hell. Sheri knows this, and more than
once had gotten me to do things I though I could not do by threatening
to call Pam to come over. I saw Sheri
smiling at me as I reacted to her statement, and could tell that she was
not going to tell me more, and I did not dare ask. Breakfast was
perfect: Eggs Benedict, fresh squeezed juice, toast and coffee. Frankly,
I was trying to remind her how much she would miss me if the two of them
killed me. I spent the next
two hours cleaning up, and nearly shaking with fear. I could hear Shari
giggling each time she looked at me, enjoying my obvious terror. And I
damn near peed on the floor when I heard a car pull into our driveway. I
kneeled as Sheri went to the door, and heard it open, then was surprised
when I heard her squeal like a child, making cooing sounds. “Thanks for
watching him for me. I really need to go on this trip, and I hate to
leave him locked up all the time,” heard Pam say. “No problem.
This will be fun. Are you certain I can use him the way you said?” “As advertized.
You can give me a report when I get back, but you won’t have any
problems. Just use the commands I gave you, and have lots of fun.” “Great!,” I
heard my mistress say. “Do you have time to come in and scare the shit
out of slaveboy?” (I think she meant that literally.) “I wish I
did,” Pam said. “I will catch you both when I get back. Thanks
again.” I heard the door
close, and a chain rattle as she walked toward me. Lifting my head I
expected to see Pam’s sub on his hands and knees; instead I saw a
poodle. And though he wagged his tail and bounced about when he looked
at my mistress, each time he glanced at me he froze and gave me a
“look”. “Meet curly,”
my mistress said. “He is a purebred miniature, with needle sharp
teeth. I wanted you to meet him today.” The comment about
the teeth was obviously meant to give me a clue, but it left me behind.
Having a dog chase me around the house biting me may have been something
Shari wanted to try, but it did not seem like her, and certainly was
nothing nearly as bad as our weekly games. “Get on the
table,” she said. My stomach sank,
and I began to get an idea. The “table” is a solid wood coffee table
I had build. It fits our living room decor of rough wood and wrought
iron (which has uses only some of our friends know about), and is the
centerpiece of many of our weekend games. Big, solid, with many
different uses, it had been my place of residence for many hours, and
one horrible three-day weekend. “Lay down,”
Shari said, but by then I had guessed how she planned to use it, and how
she might have a use for the dog. I know I was shaking when I lowered
myself onto the top of the table, guiding my cock and balls through the
knot hole in the middle of the table. Shari slid the metal strip that
trapped my cock and balls to the table. Her tying my hands and feet to
the table at this point was more to keep me from thrashing about than to
keep me from getting away; I cannot reach the metal restraint from the
top, and it makes an effect trap as is. As she pulled a strap around my
waist to hold my close to the table she said, “This will keep you from
castrating yourself.” All the while the dog just watched. Walking in front
of me, Shari knelt down and lifted my head. “You knew there would be a
penalty for complaining about my blow job. This is it.” I whimpered,
remembering how I had begged her to stop that night. She had promised me
the longest, best blow job she could manage, and delivered her promise.
I should have known that Sheri, my mistress-lover, would alternate the
pleasure of her mouth and tongue with biting and scraping with her
teeth. I could tell that she was angry at my cries, but assumed that the
punishment was the blowjob itself. Now I knew better. Still holding my
head, she kissed me and explained, “Curley was trained by Pam to bite
dicks. Apparently he takes direction very well. Or is that “dick-tation”?
Anyway, I am going to use him to give you a few love bites. Now you will
have a reason to scream.” She kissed me
again, ignoring both my whimpers and the tears that began to flow.
Picking up the dog, she set it under the table. I felt its tongue flick
my cock, and I screamed and jerked; without the restraints I would have
castrated myself trying to get away. Shari giggled, and grabbed my cock.
I heard her say, “Curley, CHEW!” My scream must
have startled the dog, because he let go of my dick and barked at me.
But just once. None of my screams from that point had any effect as he
bit, and pulled on my dick with his teeth. Periodically Shari would calm
the dog down, slowing down its progress as it worked itself into a
frenzy. I could tell Sheri was
getting hot. She was making the moaning sounds she makes as she gets
close to cuming, though at the time I was more concerned about the pain
in my dick. Suddenly I heard her scream “Fuck YES!” She pulled the
dog back, and said, “God, that was good. Lets take a look at you! My cries and
screams had long since made me too hoarse to respond, or even make much
noise as Sheri began to wipe my cock down with soapy water. “Nice,”
she said, “but I think I need to put something on that.” I was wrong,
thinking that I could not scream anymore. The alcohol on my torn and
chewed cock felt like liquid fire, and Sheri’s laughter made me cry
with shame and humiliation as the pain began to fade. Bending down, she
tilted my head up and kissed me again. “Let this be a lesson. Your
last one. I won’t tolerate your failing to do what I say. Do you
understand?” “Yes! Mistress.
Please...” “Shush,” she
said. “I...” she began to say, but was interrupted by the doorbell.
Kissing me quickly, she said, “wait here!” I expected Sheri
to either not answer the door, or go outside to answer it, but she
surprised me again by opening it wide, after looking through the window
to see who it was. Then I understood. One of our neighbors has a
daughter, Donna, just back from school, that Shari and I both felt was a
closet Dom. She knew what we were into, offering only mild interest
while encouraging us to keep playing, but had never asked to be
included. I knew that Sheri was waiting for some opportunity to show her
our other lives. “I have the
things you ordered from Karen,” Donna said. Karen is Donna’s sister,
and a girl scout. “I though I would bring them over and.....” Her voice trailed
off as she saw me tied to the table. Obviously, she did not know what to
say. “Does that
shock you?,” Shari asked. “His cock is
bitten,” she said, stating the obvious. “I know. My
friend’s dog was chewing on it. I was punishing him. Do you think that
is wrong?” Donna shrugged.
“You guys can do what you want. Personally, I don’t care if you let
the dog bite it off.” Something in the
way Donna said it sounded like a challenge. Shari smiled, and I began to
cry again. “Curly, come
here!” my mistress said. With out another word she picked up the dog,
and set it under the table again. This time the dog did not wait for a
command, or react to my screams. I know I lost
track of time. The dog continued to bite and chew my cock, long after I
could only make small rasping sounds. It must have been a grand show,
because there were several points where Donna’s calm demeanor was
replaced by laughter and shouted encouragement to both the dog and me.
Several times I must have passed out, only to be revived by the pain in
my cock, and once by cold water being splashed on my face. I am certain
that Donna was sexually gratified by the experience, though I am not
sure, nor did either one ever tell me if the took the opportunity to
gratify each other. I also remember
Donna stroking my head telling me how proud she was of my ability to
endure this, and how lucky I was to have found such a fantastic woman
and mistress as Shari. Then SHE kissed me, and told me that Shari
promised to lend me to her on occasion until Donna could find someone
like me. The rest of the
weekend was, by comparison, event less. My cock was useless, and even I
knew that it would never be repaired. And though Shari stroked me,
kissed me, and told me how proud she was of me, at no point did she
indicate that she was either guilty for, or even aware of my loss. Her
only comment was that it was an “incomplete” castration. Monday I was not
able to go to work, and spent the day doing the things I had been to
sick to do over the weekend. Monday night Pam came back to pick up her
dog. Kneeling in front of both of them, I was forced to unwrap the
bandages and show what the dog had done to me. “I can’t stay
now,” Pam said. “And your boy needs to recover a bit anyway.”
Walking up to me, she tilted my head back, and looking me in the eyes,
she said, “I will be over soon though. This has given me a whole new
sense of your limits. Both of you.” Watching her leave, I began to shake. Shari just
laughed. |
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