At Her Command

by Dana Drake

  “Has this ring been painful, Nathan?” Nathan shook his head. “Has it slipped off?” He silently shook his head, still too ashamed to meet either one of their eyes. “Then we’ll use a 1¾ inch ring with the Steelheart. You’ll notice a world of difference in the comfort.”

  “Do you wear one of these, Jeremy?” Bridget asked.

  “Heavens no,” he chuckled. “I keep my slave Daniel in chastity. It keeps him in line and gets him to stay focused on serving me.” Nathan watched Bridget’s cheeks bloom pink and her nostrils flare.

  “Just my thought. I hope it works as well for me.”

  “Oh. I’m sure it will. I need you to have a seat and get comfortable, Nathan.” Jeremy helped him onto the paper-covered chair. “Here’s the drill, Nathan. We don’t deaden the area for PA piercing. Believe it or not, it’s about the least painful piercing we do. What little pain you’ll feel is instantaneous, and ends immediately.” He placed a plastic cassette containing a needle, a metal tube encased in plastic, disinfectant wipes, and a captive bead ring on the tray beside the chair. There was something of Florence Nightingale in the big, ink-covered tattoo artist, and it lessened Nathan’s fear, but not his immense humiliation. Jeremy spoke in low, measured tones as he gently rubbed disinfectant over the head of Nathan’s shriveled, flaccid penis. Goose bumps covered his upper thighs as the alcohol evaporate on is skin. Jeremy placed a dot on the underside of Nathan’s penis, where the glans meets the shaft. “This okay?”

  “Yes,” Bridget answered before Nathan could speak.

  “First I’m going to insert a small tube into your urethra. It’s not at all painful. Then I’ll insert the needle through the skin and into the tube. I’ll remove it and insert your jewelry. It’s that simple. Ready to go?” Nathan nodded. He held his breath and turned toward Bridget as she took his hand.

  “I love you,” she whispered. A sharp, hot pain shot through the head of Nathan’s penis.

  “Bingo,” Jeremy said. “Now I’ll close the ring and you’re good to go.” Nathan closed his eyes as Jeremy closed a special set of pliers trapping the ball inside the ring. “I need you to sit here and relax for twenty minutes. I’ll be back, to go over the aftercare.” Jeremy stood and pushed the rolling stool against the wall. “Can I get you both something to drink?”

  *****

  Nathan didn’t go home in the Steelheart. It was in Bridget’s purse, still in its case. Jeremy’s strictures weren’t complicated. No sex for two weeks; wash the site twice a day; call if there is any sign of infection; urine is sterile and actually promotes healing. Nathan sat to urinate, the same as he had with the plastic chastity device. The captive bead ring widened the urine stream. It didn’t bleed after the first day, and looked healed after three weeks.

  Bridget left work early that Friday and met him at the door when he got home. “Know what day it is?” He racked his addled brain for the answer. “Your thirty day trial ends this evening at eight o’clock.” He stared into her blue eyes, bewildered, suddenly unsure of his future with her.

  “Wha... what’s going to happen?” Bridget smiled, her eyes sparkling.

  “I’ve prepared a slave contract. We’ll review it after you change and bring me a glass of wine.” Nathan undressed quickly, used the bathroom, and brushed his teeth. He carried Bridget’s glass of white wine on a tray with crackers and cheese and laid it on the coffee table. He dropped to his knees at her feet. She handed him a document, folded in fourths, backed with a sheet of heavy blue stock, a contract. His hands began to shake as he read the text:

  Of my own free will, I, Nathan A. Scott, herein known as slave, hereby grant Bridget R. Kelly, herein known as Mistress, full ownership, care and use my body, mind, income, assets, and possessions. The slave will own nothing and will be the sole property of Mistress for one year, as of the 23rd day of August, 2013, at 8:00 pm, until 22nd day of January, 2014, at 8:00 pm.

  The slave agrees to submit completely to the Mistress in all ways. There are no boundaries of place, time, or situation, in which the slave may willfully refuse to obey the Mistress without risking punishment. The slave also agrees that, once entered into this contract, his body belongs to the Mistress to be used as she sees fit, within the guidelines defined herein. All possessions likewise belonging to the slave, including all assets, finances, and material goods, belong to the Mistress to do with as she sees fit. The slave agrees to please the Mistress to the best of his ability, in that he now exists solely for the pleasure of said Mistress. The slave agrees to accept punishment by the Mistress as she see fit...

  Nathan took a deep breath and rested his bare bottom on his feet. Nine weeks into life with Bridget, he was used to kneeling. Nudity has become routine, as had orgasm denial and complete servitude. So why did two sheets of paper have such an impact on him, a simple document that merely stated the obvious? He looked into Bridget’s blue eyes and shuddered. He wanted this. He needed this. She was the first woman who had discovered what even he didn’t know about himself. “May I use the pen, mistress?” She handed him her four-hundred dollar tortoise shell rollerball pen. He carefully signed above the word slave and handed it back to Bridget. She signed and dated the contract and carried it to her slant-lid mahogany secretary, placed it in a drawer and carried a gift bag back to Nathan.

  “There is a tradition in modern femdom, when a man willingly submits to a woman and becomes her slave.” Nathan stared up at her, like a dog at its master. She removed a black leather collar from the bag and handed it to him. “Giving yourself to become a slave is the greatest gift a human being can bestow on another. You’ve signed the contract. This collar is a symbol of the binding agreement. Your giving me the collar to restrain you consummates it. Nathan’s hand trembled as he offered Bridget the collar. He straightened his back and knelt upright as she buckled the inch-wide, black leather band around his neck. She kissed his cheek. His cock stiffened, jerking upright, the Prince Albert piercing slapped against his belly.

  Nathan’s cock throbbed as Bridget removed the Steelheart chastity device from its case. Fear, self-loathing, and erotic humiliation washed over him as he watched her inspect the shiny stainless steel tube and ring. “Standup, slave,” she whispered. Nathan rose and stepped close. “How are we ever going to get that thing, in this tiny tube?” She looked up at him and smiled, eyes twinkling. “Bring me some ice in a glass, slave.” Nathan inhaled slowly, trying to lower his pounding heartbeat as he filled a tumbler at the ice dispenser, knowing full well what Bridget was about to do. He was nearly flaccid when he presented himself to her, but she pressed two ice cubes against his hairless scrotum anyway. He gasped and flinched as the cold spread through him like a winter wind.

  She deftly pressed his balls through the retaining ring one at a time, then his limp penis, taking care with his recently healed piercing. She studied the anti-pullout device, oriented it, and slipped it through his captive bead piercing jewelry. He gulped as she slipped the rounded stainless steel tube over his penis, mated it with the retaining ring, and locked it. “There,” Bridget tugged gently. “It’s all mine now. Only I decide when you’re pleasured with it. “Get your leash. I hung it on the hook in the closet. I’ll be using it more often now.” Nathan retrieved the collar and knelt at Bridget’s feet as she attached it. He crawled beside her, up the stairs to her room, heart pounding in his chest.

  “You may undress me, slave.” She stepped out of her five-inch black pumps and acted disinterested as he carefully unbuttoned her white blouse and unzipped her black wool skirt. He put the blouse in the hamper and laid the skirt on the chair. He slid her slip down and knelt as she stepped out of it, longing to caress and kiss her legs, the way a man in the desert longs for water. She arched her back slightly as he unclasped her black lace bra, and shifted her weight from leg to leg as he removed her panties, staring at her firm plum bottom, remembering when he had been allowed to kiss and worship it.

  “Now that you’re in permanent chastity slave, you may worship my ass.�
�� Nathan’s heart raced as he parted her buttocks and pressed his lips to her skin, breathing in her dusky scent, relishing it with a mixture of lust and longing. His cock pressed against hard steel that wouldn’t give. His balls felt like they might burst.

  She pulled free and opened a dresser drawer. He tried to read the writing on the package, but it was too small and the light too dim. It looked like a curved plug, the diameter of a man’s thumb, and perhaps five inches long. The curved handle reminded him of the treble clef symbol. “What’s that, mistress?” She opened the package and held it up for him to view.

  “It’s a prostate massager.” His anus tensed as she inspected the white plastic plug. “I’ve been reading a lot about men’s prostate glands.” She met his gaze. Chills ran up his back as he looked into her sparkling blue eyes. “A man must either orgasm or be milked three to five times a week to stay healthy.” She looked down at his Steelheart. “I was wondering how we were going to accomplish that since you won’t be having intercourse.” Nathan felt his face and shoulders flush hot as his abdominal muscles tightened.

  “You’ll wear this every evening. It will provide continuous prostate stimulation. I’ll supplement that with digital massage, or a strap-on.” She smiled. “Have you ever wondered how it would feel for me to fuck you like a woman?” She methodically rubbed lube over the plug and down to the base of the handle. “Lean over the bed and spread your buttocks, slave.” As Nathan held his breath, naked and ashamed, holding his buttocks apart and waiting for her to impale him, he realized he was no longer Nathan or darling to her. She called him slave, as if he didn’t have a name. He let out a gasp as the cool plastic plug entered his anus. He flexed his anus as the handle came to rest flat between his cheeks.

  “You may worship my feet now, slave.” He knelt beside the bed, barely breathing as he waited for her to present a foot. Each time his anus flexed, the Steelworks twitched up and down. Energy flowed from his belly into his legs at first, and then rose into his chest. He realized that his nipples, anus, and cock were wired in a circuit as his body came alive. The prostate massager in his anus had his nipples buzzing and his caged penis twitching and pressing hard against the Steelheart device, in a futile attempt at an erection.

  Nathan stared, transfixed as he brought Bridget’s toes to his lips, and breathed in the sweet smell of her skin. He took her great toe between his lips and caressed it with his tongue. Goosebumps rose on her supple skin and bloomed across her trim calf. Bridget sighed as he licked the bottom of her foot, relishing the contrast between the hard skin and the supple skin of her toes and upper foot.

  Bridget pulled back. “I said you could worship my ass. How long since your last orgasm?”

  “Nine weeks and four days, mistress.” She slid off the bed and walked around him. He craned his neck to watch her lithe, nude body as his anus flexed around the prostate massager.

  “I think you’ve earned an orgasm, slave.” Bridget held up the key. “Stand up and come here.” Nathan leaned on the bed and got to his feet. He stood in front of her as she sat in a wingback chair. He looked away as she slid the key into the special lock and rotated the cylinder. She gently pulled the shiny steel cylinder off his penis, and pulled the anti-pullout piece off its pins, then removed it from his Prince Albert. His cock stiffened like a balloon filling with air. His anus reflexively clenched the prostate massager as if it had a mind of its own.

  “Don’t touch it, Nathan. It is forbidden.” She took a pair of ballistic nylon restraints from the bottom drawer. Pressing her firm breasts against him, she cinched them around his arms, just above his elbows. She connected them behind his back with a strap. With his elbows pinned to his sides, Nathan couldn’t reach his throbbing cock if he wanted to. She tore open a condom. Nathan’s heart began to pound, wondering if they were going to have intercourse.

  Bridget rolled the condom over Nathan’s stiff, throbbing cock as his anus tightened. She squirted lube in her hand and rubbed it over the swollen condom. “No coming until I say so,” she whispered as Nathan twisted and turned like a man possessed. She edged him to the point of orgasm and squeezed him, causing him to cry out. She edged him fours times over the next five minutes, until he was covered in sweat and panting. She reached between his legs with her other hand grasped the S-shaped handle of the prostate massager and began to push and pull, timing her strokes with masturbating.

  “You may come, slave,” she whispered. Nathan started to double-over, as semen spurted from his body in waves. His anus and nipples felt electric, as cum gushed into the condom, distending it. Bridget caught him before he fell and lowered him onto the bed on his back. He lay there panting, totally spent. She lay next to him, caressing his chest and belly as he caught his breath. Nathan stared at the ceiling as she slipped the condom off his flaccid penis. “Open up.” She held the condom over his face. “Open your mouth, slave.” Nathan opened his mouth as she ran her fingers down the latex condom. He gagged as his own semen dribbled into his mouth.

  “Get used to it, slave. You’ll be swallowing a lot of cum when I entertain.” The salty taste of the thick, warm fluid permeated his mouth and nostrils, as her blue eyes sparkled with delight.

  *****

  Nathan stepped out of his car as the valet opened Bridget’s door. They walked into the swank hotel to attend the Bar Association’s Christmas Gala. They followed the men in black tuxedos and women in expensive formal dresses through the hotel lobby and into the ballroom. Bridget’s red strapless gown accented her perfect skin and coal black hair. She wore her hair up, revealing the graceful elegance of her neck. They’d become the talk of the Federal Courthouse, the consummate D.C. power couple, two good looking high-powered attorneys, combatants in the courtroom, lovers at closing time-- at least that’s what they thought.

  Nathan’s anus reflexively flexed around the steel butt plug she made him wear every day now. His penis twitched in its steel cage. Celibate for over ten weeks, he’d gradually fallen into a constant state of sexual longing, his only release being when she masturbated him. Bridget seemed to become more and more beautiful, as power flowed from Nathan to her, as if she was a vampire sucking his lifeblood. But Nathan was very much alive... like a man dying a slow death of starvation, constantly longing, constantly craving what he cannot have. But he was helpless to escape, helpless to deny her anything she wanted. He’d gladly give her his life if she wanted it-- perhaps he already had.

  Bridget shamelessly flirted with all the men in front of their wives; judges, attorneys, doctors, politicians. Their tanning salon browned, jowly faces all broke into the same dumb, schoolboy grin, as she coyly lavished praise and admiration on them, while their wives and girlfriends stood by stone-faced and mute, at a slow boil. With Nathan in tow, she made the rounds, heaping on praise and faux kisses to some of the most powerful men in Washington. Cocktails were followed by dinner, more cocktails, and a couple of boring speeches. Bridget touched Nathan’s arm as the senator from a large, very blue state summed up his speech with his party’s unwavering support of the Trail Lawyers Association’s efforts to block tort reform.

  “See that man over there?” Nathan spotted a young man standing by the door in a wait-staff uniform. He was tall, lean, and broad-shouldered. He might have been a pro baseball player from Cuba or Venezuela, with smooth, café au lait skin, and short dark hair. She handed Nathan a business card. “On your way to the men’s room, hand him this.” Nathan turned over her business card. He read her perfect script and flushed hot. I want to show you a good time tonight. Call me when you get off work. B.

  He met her gaze, and felt his stomach turn as he looked into her clear blue eyes. She silently mouthed the word NOW. Nathan pushed back from the table and walked to the exit. “Can I help you, sir?” the man had a slight Spanish accent. Nathan handed the man the card. He read and reread the back. He gave Nathan a dark stare.

  “The blond in the red dress,” he whispered.

  “You her husband, man?”


  “No.” Nathan slipped past him and entered the men’s room. He glanced under the stalls. Seeing no one, he entered the last stall, removed his tux jacket and cumber bun, and lowered is black tux pants. He’s gotten used to urinating sitting down. The Steelheart made urinating while standing impossible. She’d created the perfect storm, flirting with other men as he stood by; mute as a statue. Now she was openly cuckolding him, withholding her body, denying him orgasm, and giving herself to a complete stranger. He dabbed the stainless steel prison with tissue and flushed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Her phone rang at 1:15, as they approached Washington Circle. “I saw you looking at me,” she told the caller. “No, I consider it a compliment when a handsome man notices me... He’s not my husband... I’m divorced... Come over now... Dupont Circle. Felipe, I like that.” Nathan held his breath as she gave the caller her address.

  “I’m going to change into something more appropriate when we get home,” she said as he pulled into the driveway. “Pull up and leave room for Felipe.” He killed the engine and walked around to open her door. “You’ll be serving us drinks, Nathan-- oh, and some crackers and that good Brie.” She turned as she walked past him into the foyer. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds and her cheeks glowed from the after dinner champagne. “I want you naked, Nathan. I want to show Felipe just how much power I have over men.” She handed him her mink jacket and walked up the stairs. Her straight back and perfect posture gave her a regal quality that was only accented by her hairstyle and long elegant neck. Jealousy, envy, intense love, and hatred whirled inside him, roiling his guts. He hung up their coats, turned up the thermostat, and undressed in the guest room.