It was a few months ago when my girlfriend and I got intoxicated enough for me to feel comfortable and spill a selection of my darkest secrets. I don’t know what it was about her. The comfort zone began with massaging her feet and her mentioning that she enjoyed the feeling immensely. She stated that no one had ever done something like that for her with such passion and focused dedication. She seemed like she had a hidden dominant side that had never had light shined on it before.
During the moment of first rubbing her feet, I didn’t want to blurt out the fact that I craved licking her dirty feet clean, even though we had just gotten back from several local clubs and bars after hours of dancing. I didn’t want to admit that I wouldn’t want her to be content and accepting of my task being complete until her filthy soles were spotless.
I also avoided mentioning that I needed to earn the privilege of licking her feet by licking her high heel shoes first, in order to get them ready for the next time she would like to wear them for an outing. I could see the bottoms of her shoes on the ground – they were knocked over and covered with dirty grime from all of the strenuous travels of our evening. The heels lay where I belonged – on the floor in a submissive place under my dream mistress.
It was always easy for me to find women to have casual vanilla sex with, but I always craved more for reasons I could never explain to them. I could fully please the other woman with casual sex, but I always knew I’d be better off fucking a blow up sex doll and then masturbating afterwards to Femdom porn that fed my actual hidden cravings.
Submissive women in average society have become brainwashed in such an extreme fashion to be obedient cocksuckers, and have forgotten about their right to speak up about an opinion they believe in. Femdom has always intrigued me because you can see women from all nationalities making men grovel, worship, and praise their bodies; and more importantly, their words.
I never enjoyed blowjobs. I feel like I don’t deserve them, except for one condition: My mistress sucking my dick for a few moments and then spitting my drips onto my face, into my mouth, or on the floor, only to step on it with her shoes and make me lick them clean. I like it when she degrades me and calls me worthless; what slave doesn’t enjoy such treatment? I’m nothing but a male dog that she can lead around the house with a leash and shock collar attached to my neck and my balls.
My mistress has a job that is very time consuming. Therefore, I spend a lot of time in a cage. Although my mistress works from home, our slave playhouse is in a nearby barn converted into an indoor adult playground. My dream was to have a small living quarter with a lot of surrounding land for one purpose: So no one could hear me scream.
The first time my mistress could cane me without either one of us having to hold back our shouts of pleasure was one of the most vindicating parts of our lives. I could finally show my mistress how much I wanted to take, and she could finally show me how much she was willing to give. We both had room to improve, but I was thrilled that it was up to my pain tolerance to show how much dedication I was driven to show.
I’m thankful that I was confined to a cage after my first congratulatory beating for purchasing a country property. I tried sitting on the ground after being unlocked from the outdoor stockade I was forced to build, and it hurt more than I could have ever imagined. My mistress apologized in a soft toned fashion, and I remember straining my eyes as I realized how leather skin tuff yet sore my ass had become.
Before putting me into my cage that evening, my mistress put in an inflatable dildo into my ass with a fake rubber dog tail attached on the opposite end of the insertion side. She had a very evil smile and glare. I’ll never forget what she said:
“Since you can’t feel your numb ass, I’m sure you won’t mind this intrusion. Remember that one time you stuck your dick into my ass early in the morning and you didn’t do shit to get me ready for it? This is payback. You will never get such a luxury again.”
Right after that statement I could feel my ass again. When she violently forced the un-inflated butt plug into my ass, she didn’t show one hint of mercy in response to my gasps. After the plug was all the way in, my mistress took a roll of duct tape and secured the plug so there was no way I could force it out.
“Now get in your cage slut!”
I remember crawling into my cage feeling the plug every inch of the way. I heard the clicking of the cage door closing, and then the snap of the combination lock getting attached. My Mistress then grabbed the air pump at the end of my ass and gave me 6 squeezes. After a very long drawn out laugh, she walked away in her dirty cowboy boots into the house and shut the door.
I couldn’t move in the cage. I could only remain with my ass up in the air, feeling extremely warm from the 300 lashes I was required to take and count out loud. My Mistress had gone through 5 bamboo sticks I was told to cut from the woods. During the beating I had admitted something that had taken a very long time for me to shine light upon. I craved my Mistress to make me consume her urine.
2 hours prior:
“That is fucking disgusting pig!’
Mistress was on cane lash 120.
I quickly received 10 more.
“You really are fucking pathetic. You want to drink my piss?!?!”
“Yes mistress” I replied, ashamed.
“Of course you would. That explains the time you asked me to walk you to the bathroom on your leash when I had to piss and you just cowered on the ground like a dog in heat!! Why didn’t you tell me then you filthy pig??”
“I couldn’t, Mistress. I’m sorry!” I replied.
“Count to 160 slave!” Mistress said.
Before I could protest, I was in tears saying the number 172. Mistress set goals for me, but when I disappointed her for withholding information for so long, she made me aware of it. I didn’t try to hold back my tears anymore because it was impossible.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll stop for a moment. You want to know the good news slave?” Mistress said.
“Yes Mistress, please” I whimpered.
“You’re a little over halfway done to 300 strokes of my stick! However, you’re annoying the shit out of me. I’m going to come up with a new way of gagging you other than just putting my panties into your mouth. I’m going to put my wet panties in your mouth! And not wet like pussy juice wet! Wet like piss wet you disgusting pig!” Mistress screamed.
Mistress took off her panties and stuffed them to the bottom of her large wine glass she had recently finished sipping on and began to piss into it. She then slapped me really hard in the face and put the glass up to my lips.
“Drink!!! NOW! All of it!!!!!”
I quickly slurped up the piss in the glass. The taste was unlike what I had expected. I coughed a couple times and spat back into the glass, but my Mistress didn’t relieve the tilt of the glass.
“You like that SLUT?! Your coughing says one thing and your dick says another!I love how I can beat you so hard you get flaccid, and then I make you consume my fresh piss and you get hard again! You are sick you slave bitch! “ My Mistress was upset but had an odd glare in her eye that made me feel okay about what I had just done for her. When I finished all of the liquid, she punched my balls so hard I yelped. “You’re lucky I won’t make you drink your own piss! If your cock and balls weren’t covered in a roll of duct tape I’d make you do it slave!!!!!” Mistress exclaimed.
Mistress pinched her piss soaked panties out of the wine glass and stuffed them into my mouth. She dried my face and mouth with my shirt she had torn off earlier. She proceeded to utilize her next roll of duct tape and sealed her piss soaked panties into my mouth by wrapping tape around my head several times. She hit me in my balls again and laughed when I accidentally shot a dripping snot rocket out of my nose to try and get air.
“You’re very fucking lucky I’m good at math. You only have 128 strikes remaining slave! However, you have to keep this pant hanger on your nipples till the end of my beating!” Mistress said.
The next thing I knew my nipples were on fire again. Nipple torture is what started to get my mistress into being dominant with me. A while back, I asked her to put on 2 lousy clothespins. I never knew clothespins could be so painful. I had seen several lame Femdom porn films with males beings subjected to clothespin nipple torture by sexy women. I quickly learned clothespins don’t hurt that bad unless your mistress rips them off every 2-3 minutes, twisting them several times before doing so; all occurring during 50-minute sessions.
Mistress then grabbed a 10-pound dumbbell she works out with during her morning yoga sessions and tied it to the ring latched around my taped cock and balls. The weight was left hanging a foot and a half above the ground; enough to maintain a constant swing and strain on my manhood every time the bamboo cane struck my ass for the rest of the beating session.
“300!!!!” Mistress pulled the pant hanger off my nipples without releasing the latches, and then took the weight off my cock and balls and unlocked the lock on the stockade. I had to lift it up on my own. Immediately afterwards, I hit the ground with pleasure and pain. It was such an invigorating feeling. I was free of more lashes, and enjoyed the feeling of making it through the wishes of my Mistress.
At the same time, I was feeling the repercussions of the physical impact she had just introduced upon on my body.
It was time to go to sleep in my cage.
© 2012 Baeditor