by Victor Bruno
She enjoys my suffering, I thought. She always has done.
That pose as a Governess was just a means to an end. And now this new role of tutor of a ‘Higher Education’ was just another role she had assumed for her own satisfaction.
Probably all perfectly true. But what difference did it make? Apart from all that, there was a keen delight to know that I could please her in some way at all. Even if it meant I had to suffer.
She looked at me with slow care... and I sensed where her eyes lingered longest. For I was still as rampant as ever I had been. But now, unlike those days when I had been a young man, I did not feel shame. No... I felt a sense of pride. Why should I not indeed? For it was through my manhood that I wished to please my Goddess to the highest degree.
“Yes... you’re a horny bastard alright,” said Miss Dee. But perhaps, for the first time, I thought her tone lacked its usual cold objectivity. Was there not just a touch of lasciviousness in it? The pulse of lust in me pounded more strongly. Oh if only I were called upon to serve her? There was but one doubt in me and that was that I might fail her through my inexperience.
Little did I know, in that moment, of Miss Dee’s actual plans for me.
“As I have told you, John,” she went on, “that horniness in you is now under my control. To be used and adapted for specific purposes. You will not I trust, have forgotten my warning about masturbation?”
“No... no, Miss,” I replied. I certainly had not. But the difficulties that stricture presented were enormous.
For a while Miss Dee remained silent, still surveying me. Then she spoke again. “In view of your condition... which is natural on account of the new and unusual situation in which you find yourself, I shall permit you to masturbate this evening ...”
I felt disappointment and relief simultaneously. So, for sure, there was to be no divine ‘initiation’. On the other hand I would not be completely tormented by frustrated desires.
“Thank you, Miss,” I found myself saying.
How odd, in a way, that I should, at so early a stage in our new relationship, be finding myself accepting such a personal directive as quite natural. Truly it showed the extent and depths of Miss Dee’s power over me in both the physical and psychological logical senses.
From a pocket in her negligee, Miss Dee took out a tiny square envelope and tossed it to me. I recognised it at once as a ‘rubber’ or as some call it, a ‘french letter’.
“Put that on,” she said casually.
I felt the old-time embarrassment well up in me; felt myself flushing as I had done as an eighteen year old. Unconsciously I had imagined I would be left to take my release in private. But now it dawned on me that her intention was quite different. It was a demonstration of exactly what she meant by being ‘under control’.
With fumbling fingers I forced the latex tissue over my knob and rolled it as far as possible up the length of my erection. All the time she looked at me with a thin, contemptuous smile on her lips. But, in a way, I hardly cared any more, such was the strength of my desires... and if my Mistress - at the outset of my training - wanted things this way, what right had I to gainsay her? Indeed I dare do no such thing!
“Kneel,” she ordered.
I went down before her again. Humbly. Her trainee. Her slave. Her plaything ...
“Now toss yourself off,” she said.
And, as she did so, the little knot which held her negligee was undone and the flimsy black lacy garment fell away from her and down to the floor. For the first time I was privileged to see my Goddess in all her natural, naked glory. It was like a blinding moment of revelation. Never had I seen a body so beautiful before, not even in my fantasies had she appeared so magnificent.
Her skin was creamy-white and velvety in texture. Her breasts were large but high and firm. Her deep-navelled belly was a white curve of delight... dipping down to the triangular mound of rich, dark hair... at the summit of the long, long thighs. One of those thighs thrust slightly forward - provocatively - as she lightly placed her hand on the jut of her hip. By her very pose, she taunted me and tempted me. Everything I desired most in the world was there before me. Within touching distance. Yet not to be touched.
That was her decision and I had to abide by it ...
Almost without realising it my hand had begun to move, and the lust in me quickly mounted to a fever. I dropped my eyes as my mouth sagged. I just couldn’t bear it. My hand slowed a little. I must not release too soon. This was too, too wonderful.
“Look at me,” she commanded.
I raised my eyes again. A humble acolyte at the feet of the Priestess-Goddess. Her face remained impassive, inscrutable, as I began to pump more vigorously again.
Faster and faster...
I couldn’t stop myself. Her sexual power and magnetism were too great. She was overpowering me with her personality. With her sexuality. With her whole being.
“Ahhh... ah... ahhh... ahhh .... “ I began to gasp.
My hand had begun to work frenziedly. My belly quaked. I felt the exquisite weakness in my loins.
She remained like a statue before me.
No longer did I feel any shame or humiliation. The fires she had lit across my rump were temporarily forgotten. There was room for only one sensation in my whole being, and that was the ecstatic surge to the peak of my lust.
Still faster and faster ...
“Aaahhh... aaaahhhhh ...” The sounds seemed to come from another being.
No longer was I in control. I was up to the peak... then over it... the flood bursting irrevocably upon me.
“AAAAHHHHH... “
I slumped forward, face to the soft pile carpet... still pumping. Spurting away the lave of my limitless lust. Groaning, moaning. Squirming and twitching.
Oh to die in such a moment!
Slowly the flood ebbed. The pace of my hand slackened and then stopped. I lay there panting, saliva dribbling from the corner of my mouth. I was utterly slaked. Weak and useless. I didn’t care. I cared about nothing. Except that I was at the feet of my Goddess... and had glimpsed the peaks of Paradise.
Then her voice brought me quickly back to earth.
“Not very pleasant to contemplate,” she said coldly. “But I can see you needed it.”
What could I say? Indeed, there was nothing to say. I was simply something under her control. To be used and re-used in whatever fashion she wished. I should neither complain nor feel gratitude.
“Get up... go to your room... remove that thing... and wash yourself.” The commands came in staccato-like tones, expressing her desire to be rid of the sight of my obscene being.
Slaked but shamed, I scurried away from the room under her imperious gaze and made my way back down the corridor.
Only then did the full impact of the searing pain in my buttocks begin to impinge itself onto me again.
***
I lay face down on the simple bed, still naked.
Part of my mind was filled with a kind of soporific delight. Another part absorbed the relentless pain. Was life in the months ahead always going to be like this? Could it possibly go on like this?
My God, I reflected, I have only been under this incredible woman’s domination for a few hours again, and look what has happened already! Look what she has done to me ...look what she had made me do! Truly I am her slave, I thought. Somehow it is all part of the natural order of existence.
And all the time that I lay there, my mind in a conflicting turmoil, I was tense for the summons of a bell or the sound of the door opening. So, no doubt, it was the intensity of my emotions over the last hour or so that caused me to slip into a half doze, despite the incessant throbbing pains I was enduring.
***
My awakening was rude.
It was the cut of her ratan cane across m
y upturned rump.
I catapulted up in painful shock, clasping at my nates, twisting round to see her glaring down at me. Still naked... still as magnificent... still as overpoweringly dominating in every way.
“You get on your knees, the very instant I ever enter this room,” she rasped.
“I... agh... I was ... asleep... “ I gasped out.
Miss Dee gave me another whip-lash cut, this time across my flank.
“Don’t answer back to me,” she rapped. Already I was sliding off the bed to get on my knees.
Ssswwweee... eeeppttt!
Another cut, this time across the other flank. “And you always address me with respect. As Miss!”
I was on my knees before her, absorbing the additional pain of the freshly raised weals, seeing her long limbs slightly straddled before me.
“Yes... yes, Miss... “ I said. “I beg pardon, Miss.”
She had me completely cowed. I knew it and she knew it. I saw the cane making tiny menacing flicks as it hung at her side and cringed, inwardly, expecting at any second to feel it again. Oh what it was to be in the power of this demanding woman! It was indeed hell and heaven combined.
Then I saw the glint of metal. She was carrying something dangling from her other hand.
“Now you may get up, slave,” she said.
Unsteadily I got to my feet and stood before her. My eyes devoured her lush nakedness. How often had I dreamed of seeing her like this. Mow, there it all was, right before me.
So near... yet so far!
“I have told you,” she said, “that I intend to control you both by directives and mechanical means - especially in the matter of masturbation. Disobedience of a directive will earn you the biggest hiding of your life... so perhaps you can possibly imagine what that would be like ...
I could - and my blood froze at contemplating it.
“... on the other hand,” she went on, “mechanical means will remove the temptation for you to risk your skin, for you will be unable to touch or play with yourself.”
Miss Dee showed me what she held in her hand. It was a kind of leather harness attached to a leather triangle. From the centre of the triangle projected a metal tube. It was seven or eight inches long and an inch and a half in diameter. It was not difficult to define its purpose!
“This you will wear tonight... and on many other nights,” she told me. “One some nights you will be left to resist temptation. Two different methods of control... and all part of your new training discipline, John. Is it clear to you... or have you any questions?”
“It... it’s clear to me, Miss,” I said. Before me I saw stretching nights of either agonising temptation or frustration.
“There will also be many times when you will wear this during the day,” said Miss Dee. “Especially when I have reason to leave you alone in the apartment.”
She stepped forward and fastened the belt of the leather harness tight about my waist. For one brief, exquisite moment, her fulsome soft-warm breasts brushed against my bare chest. Then they were gone again. My head was filled with her aromatic perfume. It was a pungent, dominating perfume which complemented her character perfectly.
I felt a shudder of pleasure-dread when she unceremoniously seized my now flaccid length and thrust it into the end of the tube. The metal felt cold against the warmth of my flesh. Then Miss Dee slipped a strap under between my thighs, pulling the triangle close to me, forcing my penis as far as it would go into the tube. The thong that went under me ran up tightly between my nates and was fastened to the back of the belt.
In moments I had become a sexual prisoner!
“You will understand, John,” she said, giving me a faint sardonic smile, “that there is room in this device for you to swell and stiffen to full erection. Which no doubt you will do sometime during the night or certainly tomorrow morning. However, it will be quite impossible for you to touch yourself. So... no temptation, you see?”
“Yes, Miss,” I almost croaked my reply. It was a new and frightening experience to be thus encased. However, no doubt I would get used to it, just as many unfortunate boys in Victorian times had got used to similar methods of ‘restraint’ devised by worthy medicos and parents.
“Kneel!” commanded Miss Dee.
I obeyed... now her helpless, impotent slave at her feet.
“Tomorrow your training will begin in earnest,” she said. “I think it most fitting that it should begin with my feet. I have ten toes. Maybe you will spend most of tomorrow in simple adoration and devoted service to just ONE of them. I shall consider that. There will be nine toes remaining for you to make similar obeisance to. So ten days could well pass before my slave’s duties have progressed beyond the end of my feet. Even to have got that far will be considered an honour... and if at any time I find you lacking in respect or zeal, your backside will suffer for it. Are you beginning to understand me better slave?
“Yes... oh yes... Miss,” I replied.
So bitter were her words and my future to contemplate, a lump came into my throat. Lowliness I had expected, but scarcely lowliness of such a degree! And not much more than an hour or so before I had dared to imagine I might lose my virginity that night!
Oh how very different Miss Dee’s plans obviously were for me!
“There is much, much more to my body, and my being, which you will serve, slave,” she went on. “And you will learn those services step by step, inch by inch. And every progression in my service you will feel an even greater honour ...”
In my mind’s eye I travelled up and around her beautiful body. Oh what exquisite services there were to be rendered there! But oh how long must my sexual servitude last until I would reach the ultimate goal of all my sexual desire!
The depths of my submissive descent has been made starkly plain to me. Not it remained for me to show to what heights of servile devotion I could rise.
Realising that - pain-racked and cruelly restrained - irresistibly filled my masochistic soul with joy.
“That,” said Miss Dee with finality, “is sufficient for you to know this evening. You will obey my summons by bell on the instant in the morning.”
“Yes, Miss,” I said.
She turned on her heel abruptly, displaying to me briefly the creamy-white glories of her firm back and curvaceous hindquarters, before opening the door. Oh my divine Goddess!
“Good night, Miss,” I said with all the reverence I could muster.
Miss Dee did not even deign to reply.
The door slammed shut.
I was alone. To sleep if I could. If not, certainly to contemplate my future.
***
It was many hours before I found oblivion. And even then I woke before dawn. The room was still in darkness as I swam up out of a dream in which I had the unbelievable delight of fondling my Mistress’s breasts while my mouth nuzzled the deep cleft between them.
My organ, hot and hard, filled the tube within which it was encased.
As painful as toothache and as persistent, the lust throbbed within me. But it was an ache which could not be relieved.
Tears of self-pity came to my eyes as I clasped the cold metal tube.
I could not have been more captive a slave, it seemed to me.
And away and away in the distance swept night after night and morning after morning of similar torment!
Chapter 8
The loud ringing of a bell brought me fully to my senses.
I looked up at the wall indicator and saw the little tab swinging to and fro. Room number four. That, I knew, was Miss Dee’s bedroom. My stomach seemed to turn a somersault. My services were required.
Hurrying along the passageway. I felt the absurdity of the ‘restrainer’ I wore. Within it I could feel myself still in erection. I knocked on the door, feeling that familia
r mingling of pleasure and apprehension which came over me whenever I was about to enter Miss Dee’s presence.
“Come in,” she called.
I opened the door and went in. My Mistress was sitting up in bed, her luscious breasts nakedly exposed. Fascinated, I just stood there, staring at them, thinking how wonderful it would be if I were only permitted to touch them.
Suddenly I was aware of Miss Dee’s eyes blazing at me.
“What do you think you’re doing... STANDING there, slave,” she rasped, “get on your knees!”
Quickly I fell to my knees. How foolish of me! But it was different to the times when she had been Madame Maxine and I her pupil. Then I had not had to kneel in her presence. She had been my Governess, not my Mistress. But now I was her slave, not her pupil. I would have to start learning the difference... and fast!
“Crawl here, you insolent bastard,” she said.
I crawled across the softly carpeted floor, fearing the worst. On the very first morning of the very first day of my servitude I had started badly.
Reaching the side of the bed, I saw her shapely bare limbs dangling in front of me. She had swung herself sideways out of bed, and I realised must be naked below the waist as well as above it. I longed to raise my head to gaze upon her beauty, but dared not.
“Put your hand under the bed,” she ordered.
I did so... and a shiver of dread went through me. For my hand touched what was obviously the cane she had used on me the previous evening.
“Take it out ...”
I did so. It was hard and smooth yet, I was aware, very flexible.
“It’s always kept there,” said Miss Dee. “Nice and handy. So you’ll know where to get it from whenever I tell you, won’t you, slave?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I answered as meekly as I could.
“Well,” she said, “I shall start as I intend to go on. Lack of respect of that nature will be punished. It will be punished day in, day out, until eradicated.”