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Jude Mason's
~Who's There~
©
2001 Jude Mason
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9
"Who's there? Is there anyone there? Please, make some
kind of noise." The tremor in the deep masculine voice
revealed his growing apprehension. Excitement was there
as well, and although he couldn't see me, he knew that
he was fully exposed and vulnerable to whoever
approached. He tried to present himself well, just in
case I was watching; but he'd already found trouble.
Silently I walked around him,
inspecting the taut muscles along the length of his back. His buttocks
and thighs flexed then relaxed, in a futile attempt to pull his legs
together. The spreader-bar strapped between his ankles displayed him
as I wished. Wrists cuffed and drawn upwards left him barely able to
touch the floor. His toes and the arches of his feet must ache fiercely, but he hadn't complained. The blindfold was what made this a
true test of his endurance.
Standing
behind him I admired the smooth expanse of flesh along his shoulders and
back. He really was a beautiful beast, one that I was pleased to own.
Using the tips of my fingers, I touched his lower back, just above the
crease of his bottom. He clenched and shuddered as I drew my fingers
downward along that cleft. His anus tightened when I touched it, trying to escape the exploration of his crinkled brown star. Circling it,
teasing it lightly, the delicate nerve filled ring softened under my
ministration. Gently I pressed my index finger inward, and knew that
he wanted me to go on when his anus clenched. I stopped just as he tried
to push back.
"Please, Oh God, who's
there? Please, say something." The panic had been replaced by a
growing excitement. I walked around him again, not touching any part of
him until I'd made a full circle and more.
I stood in front of him and smiled when I
saw how erect he'd become. His manhood curved upward almost touching
his belly, and throbbed. He'd been shaved, which made him look even
more vulnerable; his scrotum thrust forward, his orbs moving inside their
soft fleshy sack.
Dropping to my
knees I gripped his testicles and pulled them away from his body. He gasped as I wrapped the wide leather strap around them and buckled it
tight.
"Mistress, please is it you?" The
inside of his thighs had begun to tremble and the tip of his prick
drooled a thick strand of pre-cum. Using only my index finger I caressed
the bulging head, spreading the clear sticky goo.
"Oh please, please!" He groaned his
frustration, trying desperately to move his hips, and gain more
stimulation. Just as he thought he might find release, I withdrew my
finger and watched his erection throb uselessly in the air.
Retrieving an assortment of toys, I
determined exactly how he'd be punished for his disobedience. I
loosened the rope that held his wrists high and lowered it until he could
stand flat-footed with his knees slightly bent then retied it. Then
with care, not to over-stimulate him, I fastened a thong to the
leather strap that confined his testicles. By the time I'd finished my
fingers were coated with his pre-cum and I wiped them clean on his inner
thigh. Quickly, I fastened the end of the thong to the spreader-bar,
dragging him down until he was squatting. The tension was back on his
wrists, but the pain would grip his thighs as time wore on. When he
tried to rise and relieve the cramping, he'd pull on his balls.
So the dance was begun. He hadn't been
permitted an orgasm for a week and his balls ached to be emptied. His
mouth hung open, gaping as he struggled to keep his balance.
I returned to teasing the head of his
prick, slathered the juices around it, just below the rim. Back and
forth, ever so lightly I rubbed, then more firmly as he began to sway his
hips, pulling on his sack. He'd clenched his jaw and the breath
whistled harshly between his teeth as he fought to climax. Sweat
trickled down his sides and back as he neared that exquisite point of
no return.
Each time he thought he'd made
it, I'd slow my pace or move my fingers to a less sensitive spot.
"Were you given permission to speak
slave? Have you begged my forgiveness for your misbehaviour?" I asked
harshly, while continuing my teasing masturbation. Through a fog of
pleasure and torment he tried to comprehend what had been asked. I let his
erection go and stood up, waiting for his reply.
"Oh please, I'm begging. Don't stop, I
need to cum, Oh Mistress, I'm sorry, I know I didn't ask, but please,
have mercy on me. I beg you, please let me cum, I'm so close I can feel my balls churning with it."
He
was being slow, so I brought another item of pleasure to torment him with,
as well as some lubricant. By the time I stood behind him, his
mumbling had become an incoherent string of, 'please...please.'
Ignoring his rambling, I lubricated the
fat plastic toy and placed its tip against his anus. He stopped
speaking as if someone had cut the words with a knife. A soft keening
began as I circled his bud with the plug. Already softened and
yearning for some kind of release, it didn't take long to slowly work
past the outer ring of muscle. I waited while he became accustomed to
the intruder, and then began to twist the toy back and forth. Stretching
him slowly and carefully, so that when I pushed again, the large round
plug popped in with no difficulty or pain.
"Now my naughty slave, you have to
concentrate for me. I want to hear you apologize nicely and beg my
forgiveness for speaking without permission, or I'm going to quit." I twisted the plug, making sure it was seated well, then tapped its base
for good measure.
"Oh no, you can't stop,
you mustn't stop now; please my sweet Mistress. I'm begging you..." He
began, the lust almost more than he could stand. It took him several long
minutes to realize that he was in danger of losing this chance to
climax. Drawing in a shuddering breath, he began again. "Please
Mistress, I beg your forgiveness. I spoke when I shouldn't have and I
know I deserve to be punished for it. I'm truly sorry for my behaviour and
beg for mercy. I spoke out of fear, and then lust for you my Lady. I
apologize for my undisciplined behaviour and beg for your
forgiveness." His body twitched as he spoke. I walked around him, making sure he could hear the clicking of my heels this time. When I
once again stood in front of him, his erection was leaking a thread of
white that almost reached the floor.
"Better. But, are you begging only because you want to cum or are you
truly sorry?" A whipping couldn't have shocked him any more. In those
few words I'd made him fully aware of where his priorities where, as
well as where they should be.
I allowed
him a few minutes to let it sink in. His place was to accept and obey, not
want. He was learning and would continue to do so, or be punished
severely. I watched the thought process take place and then his
determination.
"Mistress, I'm sorry, more
sorry than I can possibly explain. I beg your forgiveness and will eagerly obey you, whatever you decide."
I ran a finger across his chest feeling
the sweat and heat of his passion. Then slid it downward, following a
thread of salty liquid as it wound its way towards the out-thrust shaft at his groin. He laid his head back and breathed deeply accepting any
torment I dealt him.
"Yes, that's better.
If I denied you your pleasure, you'd have reason to think about this episode. But, on the other hand, if I should allow it, maybe the
lesson would be learned as well, and in a more pleasant manner. What
say you, slave?" My fingers were like fire and ice as they slithered
across his flesh and he ached for completion. He knew it wasn't his place
to take it; so funnelling his thoughts he gathered the last of his
willpower and gave the answer he felt was
correct.
"Mistress, the orgasm is yours to
give and if you think I deserve it, I will eagerly have it. If you
think I need to learn this lesson without release, then I willing accept
your decision and thank you. And, my sweet Mistress, if you should
deem it right that I beg to be whipped, I'll gladly do so and thank
you, if it pleases you."
I was delighted
with his answer and continued to stroke where I wished. He no longer begged for his orgasm, but fought for control, as he knew he should.
The trembling of his limbs excited me, as did the throbbing prick in
my hand.
His training was coming along
nicely and I looked forward to much more pleasure from him. For now,
it was time to end his torment; a week was long enough to wait.
"Well my pretty slave, you finally came
to the right answer. Tell me now; do you like the plug filling in your
bottom? You seem so much more turned on with it
there."
"Yes, oh yes, Mistress. I'm so
close; I'm trying to hold off but.... Please, Mistress, stop stroking
me. I can't stop it." He sobbed, desperately trying to forgo his pleasure
until I gave my approval
Increasing
the pace, I whispered softy into his ear. "Cum for me, show me how much you've saved up in those big balls, just for me."
His sobs turned to a roar as his sperm
shot across the space that separated us. My chest and belly were
splattered with his hot seed as it spurted again and again. His body
heaved against the restraints, each muscle taut as I milked him.
Finally there was nothing left, and I let his softening manhood go.
"Good slave, now you have some cleaning
up to do. Seems you've shot cum all over me, so you're going to have
to lick it off. Hold still." I released his arms, but left the bar and binding on his lower body. Relieved, he dropped to his knees.
Remembering to present himself, he straightened his back, spread his
knees and placed his hands, palms upward, on his knees.
Still blind, he held as still as his
trembling limbs would allow and waited for my next command.
The end
All rights reserved. Reproduction in any form
prohibited without written approval of the
author.
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