Madame, my Dominant Mistress, did not lie; her friends are indeed worse than she is.
I hear her refuse with relief.
- “No, it’s too soon. He doesn’t have enough stamina yet. It’s just a test.”
- “Could I use him as a toilet?” asked the petite Asian woman.
Madame responds, at first:
- “If you want.”
Then she quickly corrects herself:
- “No, I want to be the first. You can use him as toilet paper to start.”
Bound by Desire: A Weekend of Submission Under a Dominant Mistress
The two devilish women finally release me from my torment. My muscles are stiff. I can’t help but groan as my arms and legs have been freed.
My Dominant Mistress sets me down and tightens my chastity cage a bit more, leaving the urethral plug in place. Then, she binds my arms in a tightly laced sleeve, securing them behind my back. Finally, she attaches a leash to my collar and drags me behind her to the bathroom.
- “Consider your ordeal ongoing throughout the weekend,” she says, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. “I will make my final decision Sunday evening about whether I keep you in my service. Needless to say, you must also satisfy my visiting friends. Don’t forget, you’re an accessory, just like a broom or a vacuum cleaner. Have you understood?”
Watching her enormous buttocks sway under her skirt right in front of me, I can only nod in agreement. My sex is completely locked, but the arousal I feel is infernal.
Madame opens the bathroom door and hands my leash to Naomi.
- “He’s yours,” she says with a broad smile.
The petite Asian woman eyes me coldly and pulls me behind her. As soon as she closes the door, she barks a sharp:
- “On your knees!”
I obey, lowering my head.
Servitude and Sensation: A Submissive’s Intimate Task
She slips her hands under her skirt, pulls down her tights and panties, and sits on the toilet seat. I hear her urine flow cheerfully. It doesn’t last long. She removes my gag, stands up, and lifts her skirt to her waist, revealing hairless, wet, and adorable sex.
- “Clean now!”
I crawl on my knees to approach and timidly move my face toward her crotch. With an annoyed gesture, she grabs my hair and presses my mouth against her lips.
- “Go on!”
I explore her flesh with my tongue, lapping at her major and minor labia. The taste is bitter, but the smell isn’t so unpleasant.
- “Do it well!” she yells.
I delve my tongue deeper, swirling it inside her vagina, even daring to tease her clitoris. I expected to be disgusted, having never done this before, but it’s almost the opposite. Naomi is very well-groomed; I’m not sure I’d enjoy cleaning a neglected woman as much. As long as she doesn’t say anything, I continue. From her breathing, I can tell she’s enjoying it immensely; her hips rock more and more against my face as her arousal builds.
Soon, I taste something other than urine on my tongue, her arousal fluid, most likely. She climaxes abundantly, letting out a series of small squeals, then abruptly pushes my face away, pulls up her panties and tights, and lowers her skirt without sparing me a single glance.
Bound to Serve: A Painful Path to Perfection Under a Dominant Mistress
She drags me to the kitchen, where Madame is drinking tea.
- “So?” she asks.
- “It’s fine,” Naomi replies, “but he drools too much.”
- “He was probably afraid to swallow at first. Consider what comes from our bodies a gift. Now! There are dishes and cleaning to do. Get to work! But first, come here! Help me, Naomi; we’ll equip him for his task.”
My Dominant Mistress frees my arms while Naomi ties two cords around each of my testicles, connecting them to small bracelets around my ankles. She tightens the cords so that each step painfully stretches my balls. My hands are tied to a leather belt around my waist with enough slack to work, though my range of motion is significantly limited.
So, I get to work. Dishes, cleaning the sink, the table, the oven, the floor. Every movement is a source of pain; I can only take small steps, grimacing like a devil, but I’m determined to do my job well.
Madame checks on me occasionally but spends most of her time in the living room with Naomi, gossiping about people I don’t know.
After two hours, the kitchen is finally clean, though my balls can’t take any more stretching.
Madame meticulously inspects the result, her face unreadable.
- “What do you think, Naomi?”
- “It’s barely clean,” she replies with a small pout.
Madame sighs, disappointed.
- “Every time I’m displeased, we’ll take a little trip to the torture room you already know. Lead the way.”
Suspended in Submission: A Harsh Lesson from a Dominant Mistress
Despondent, I shuffle toward the dreaded room, wondering what I could have done wrong.
Naomi takes malicious pleasure in grabbing my leash and yanking me behind her, forcing me to quicken my pace. Suffice it to say, my testicles don’t appreciate it, and I can’t hold back my groans.
Once in the room, Madame secures my hands in cuffs attached to the ceiling and presses a small switch.
With a soft hum, I feel myself being pulled upward until my feet leave the ground, my body swaying slightly in the air. Naomi frees my ankles and testicles to spread my legs, securing my ankles to some rings in the wall. Here I am, suspended in the air, at their mercy.
- “If you work poorly, you’ll be punished,” Madame continues. “If I’m pleased, I’ll reward you. What would you say to licking my big breasts, for example? I could grant you that if you satisfy me. If not, I can give you a taste of what awaits you. Here are my grievances with your work: You were too slow. Two hours for the kitchen is unacceptable. That’s ten lashes on your ass. The dishes weren’t spotless either. There were still stains. That’s five lashes on your glans. And you drooled too much while cleaning Naomi; she’ll handle that punishment herself. Three minutes of ball-crushing.”
I’m terrified.
- “Do you agree to these rules? Being in my service comes at this price.”
- “Yes, Madame.”
- “Very well.”
Whipped and Teased: A Brutal Punishment Under a Dominant Mistress
She grabs a riding crop, moves behind me, and starts by striking my buttocks hard. She doesn’t hold back, leaving three seconds between each blow. I writhe like a madman at the end of my rope, whimpering like a child. Naomi doesn’t take her eyes off me, savoring my suffering with a wicked glint in her eye. After ten blows, my ass is on fire, likely marked with red welts.
Madame then moves in front of me, removes my chastity cage and urethral plug, eliciting a yelp from me in the process, and slowly but surely begins to stroke me. My eager cock quickly stiffens and stands at attention. She pulls back my foreskin sharply, steps back, and strikes my glans with a quick blow.
I nearly faint.
Each subsequent blow sends a violent shudder through my entire body. Fortunately, there are only five.
- “Naomi,” she says finally.
Enduring Cruelty: A Test of Pain Under a Dominant Mistress
The petite Asian woman approaches with a wicked smile, her delicate hand closing around my balls. She begins a merciless crushing of my private parts. She’s harsh—squeezing, pulling, twisting as much as she can without breaking eye contact. No matter how much I thrash in my bonds, I can’t escape her cruelty. I even think I see the beginnings of an orgasm in her eyes as she revels in my suffering.
After three minutes, Madame finally stops her, leaving me sweating, breathless, and with a knotted stomach.
- “Well done,” she says. “You can endure. I know some who would have run away by now. What do you think, Naomi?”
- “I like how his face twists when he suffers.”
That’s clearly all that interests her, unlike Madame, who obviously plans to use me for other purposes. I’m glad she’s my Mistress Domina and not this little demon.
- “You’ll have plenty of chances to play with him, don’t worry. The weekend is just beginning,” Madame adds with a perverse glint in her eye.
To be continued…
