Big Linda’s Visits

Plus Six Assorted Stories

By Lance Edwards

ISBN 13: 978-1-935897-51-4

A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

Copyright © 2010 by Lance Edwards, All rights reserved

For information contact:

Pink Flamingo Publications

www.pinkflamingo.com

Cover Image: © yurok, Istock.com

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Big Linda’s Visits

Visit One: Visiting Rites

Visit Two: Turning the Tables

Linda’s Interlude: My Own Little Toy

Visit Three: On the Cutting Edge

Visit Four: Fit to be Tied

Linda’s Interlude: Predator & Prey

Visit Five: You Are What You Eat

Visit Six: Double Trouble

Linda’s Interlude: Transformation Complete

Visit Seven: A Real Kick in the Teeth

Visit Eight: The

Six Assorted Stories

No Shrinking Violet

’s Secret

Hot and Cold Running Cocks

Nocturnal Submissions

Closeted Slut

Party Animal

Big Linda’s Visits

Visit One: Visiting Rites

Something absolutely incredible – and incredibly devastating – happened to me recently, something so dangerous, so stimulating, so mind-blowing – and yet so horribly demeaning – that I can’t seem to come to terms with it. I guess the only answer is to finally share this with someone, let it all out, despite the considerable humiliation that’s bound to cause me.

Well, psychiatry fees being what they are, you’re elected to listen. I hope you can handle the story. It’s pretty outrageous, to say the least, and it makes for some uncomfortable hearing and telling at times. Frankly, at this point, I don’t much care if you can take it or not. After what’s been going on here, after my wild, perverse, unbelievable affair with Big Linda Skrue, it’s either unburden myself to a total stranger or go stark raving mad.

So here we go. To begin with, I’ve been stuck in a wheelchair for the last ten years. Most unfortunate, I know. A stupid accident at the height of my flaming youth robbed me of many things, not the least of which was a normal social life. But finally I found a way to turn my disability to my rather dubious advantage.

I first met this woman I came to know as ‘Big’ Linda when she began to work as my Personal Care Aide. She owned a small private home health care agency, and I’d hired her to help me with the things I couldn’t manage myself: bathing, dressing, and other personal hygiene.

It was an agreeable situation. I didn’t know much about her, but she was certainly pleasant enough. Perhaps she was a bit haughty and distant, yet competent and professional in every way. And to a terminally deprived case like me she was a wet dream to behold. Her face was truly beautiful with strong, severe features heavily freckled orange, and shimmering reddish highlights similarly overlaid the rich golden fall of her long, straight, remarkably thick hair. Tall and strong and outrageously stacked, her beauty and amazing body made her more than just a mouthwatering specimen. In a way she was also profoundly intimidating.

There was something about her, something beyond her bulky arms and shoulders, her unbelievably heavy breasts and impressively muscular six-foot one-inch frame. Maybe it was in the way she carried herself: such confident poise, such a challenging look and stance. It made me wonder if there was anyone at all out there that was truly man enough for her.

Of course, I had no illusions about myself.

I’m a good enough looking guy, and fully capable where it really counts. But there’s always this goddamn wheelchair. Not many women are open-minded enough to look beyond it and give me a try. In fact, by the time I met this gorgeous Linda Skrue, my confidence had been so battered by the endless string of rejections that I never quite had the guts to make a move on her. Yet she must have known how much I wanted her. She worked in daily proximity with my naked body, after all, and some truths just can’t be hidden. Practically every time she’d bathe me, I’d quickly swell into an obvious erection.

Wherever you are, Big Linda, I’m sorry. It was impossible not to.

Leaning over me in the bathtub, with her loose scrubs belling out and her bra-less breasts swaying in my face, Linda’s musky scent and strong sure hands turned me on so much that I thought I’d lose my mind. Before long my obstinately unthinking cock was hardened into a bony rope of muscle, straining up above the soapy surface of the water like the one-eyed snout of a breaching leviathan.

How embarrassing. Completely professional, both of us tried to ignore it. Yet Linda’s easy indifference as she scrubbed the soapy wash mitt over and around my hard, throbbing genitals only magnified my desperation.

Didn’t she care how horny I was? Couldn’t she tell how much I needed someone, anyone, to rescue me from my unwilling isolation? Could she possibly sense how much I was willing to give in return? I don’t know. All I know is that what happened next seemed somehow inevitable. By the time she’d finished washing me and go to make the bed, ‘Big’ Linda (as I came to think of her) would invariably have me so worked up I was eager for any opportunity, however tenuous, to ease my frustration. After all I hadn’t been laid in nearly ten years, and here was this Amazon dream of a personal aide, intimately ministering to my naked body. Well, a man can stand only so much. Lounging there, alone in the hot, steamy tub, it was just too easy to lie back and let my fingers do the walking. Somehow I ended up jerking myself off nearly every day.

Of course, given the limited nature of my privacy in these circumstances I suppose Linda catching me at this was also inevitable. It should have been no surprise when she eventually walked in on me. But it must have been quite a surprise indeed, at least for her. There I was: gasping, panting, and even moaning out her name as I gripped and pulled and pumped on myself.

What an incredibly devastating, deeply humiliating experience! I still don’t know how to adequately explain its effect on me. All I know is that my eyes were closed on a glorious vision of ‘Big’ Linda’s wildly heaving breasts. I was so absorbed in a wonderful fantasy of fondling and fucking and then creaming out all over them that I wouldn’t have heard the world end, much less the door open. Totally oblivious, I was beating my meat like a maniac, splashing and thrashing and burning my eager way towards orgasm.

“Oh, oh, fuck me Big Linda!” I helplessly groaned aloud. Then just as this exclamation escaped me I suddenly realized that the lady in question was standing there, framed in the doorway and watching me expressionlessly. What happened next was more surely fate than the accident that robbed me of my legs.

Humiliation and arousal somehow became inextricably mixed, an erotic alchemy that was at once both weirdly perverse and powerfully compelling. For some reason the sudden, guilty shock of my discovery shamed me into an immediate orgasm, one so powerful that I could scarcely credit it. My balls seemed to clench, pulsing perceptibly as they delivered their load, and I cried out, clamping down hard on my cock and stupidly trying to suppress the inevitable.

No chance. What I call in lighter moments ‘the dream cream’ was too eager for release. Bursting forth through my fingers, it spurted out hot and spunky all over my chest and belly even as Linda stood there calmly watching me.

Well. After that I could only sprawl there, panting and blushing as we stared at each other. But instead of appearing embarrassed herself, Linda was just smirking contemptuously. Then she sneered down her nose at me.

“Good: ‘Big Linda’. I like that. From now on I don’t want you to call me anything else. And I didn’t know you could do that.” She gestured at my come-splattered middle, my deflating erection, and her gaze turned suddenly inward. For a mesmerizing moment she was silent, her expression unreadable. Then she spoke, almost to herself.

“You know, I could use you…” She stood there silently contemplating, then came back to the present. Looking down at me strangely, she continued, “I have these urges, you see. Sometimes I wake up, all alone and incredibly horny in the middle of the night, with the overwhelming urge to do things with a man...to do things to a man...that most men simply can’t accept.” Slowly a disconcerting and decidedly evil smile spread across Big Linda’s freckled face. “But you’ll accept it. You’ll have to. You’re crippled and alone here.”

Her voice took on a taunting, singsong note.

“All alone and lonely, helpless in bed, and I’ve got the key...I could just come in here any night I want, and use you any way I want. Couldn’t I? I could just fuck you up and down and eight ways to Sunday, and there isn’t a damn thing you’d dare do about it. Is there? Because you want me. Don’t you?”

Of course I could only nod, my wasted sperm dripping slowly down my naked body, and suddenly Big Linda snapped out, “Don’t you? Say it!”

“I want you, Big Linda!”

Her sparkling blue eyes narrowed coldly as she gauged the extent of my reflexive, instinctive submission to her – to her size, her beauty; her inherent sexual power. Then, obviously satisfied with what she saw, Big Linda Skrue made her decision.

“I am going to use you,” she said, slowly and emphatically. “Hard. I am going to use you so hard, in so many ways... From now on you are going to be my own private little sex toy!” A gloating grin claimed her full, pinkish-red lips.

“I should have thought of this before! Here you are, a fully-grown man, and practically as helpless as a baby! Perfectly willing to suffer whatever I choose to do to you. Oh, I’ve been waiting a long time for something like this, little man. A hell of a long time! I’m just going to have so much fucking fun with you!” I squirmed at hearing this, and Big Linda laughed at the growing unease of my expression. Then she continued scornfully, “I am going to make you pay for being male, my pet little cripple! And I don’t just mean your health care contract!”

“In fact, as of tomorrow morning, I’m going to put one of my employees on your case, rather than bothering with cleaning you up myself. I’ve got a feeling that from now on I’ll be at home sleeping in all day instead of working, resting up from my busy nights! Because you can bet your pansy little ass they’re going to be busy!

“I’m going to show your pathetic male self all the incredible things a hot, motivated woman like me can do! You’re going be my sex-slave, my helpless little whore! I’m going to work out every outrageous, outlandish fantasy I’ve ever had on you, and you’re just going to have to deal with it however you can. Got that? Tonight and every night I feel like it from now on. I hope you like it rough, little sex toy. Because I’m going to have some big-time fun playing with you! Now, clean up that mess!”

With that Big Linda flung the terrycloth wash-mitt she usually wielded so expertly herself directly atop my come-dripping cock. Then she stepped back and slammed the bathroom door, leaving me sitting there, alone and totally flabbergasted.

I couldn’t believe it. Employer and employee, somehow our positions had become completely reversed. Suddenly she was the one who held all the power. In my stunned daze I looked down, and saw at once the reason why.

All unconsciously, Big Linda’s dire promises – threats, almost – had me swelling once again into rigid readiness. Before long my stupid cock thrust straight up into the air, effortlessly tenting out the heavy wet mitt.

What the hell was going on here?

How could I be getting so hard, after just coming so explosively? And why wasn’t I terrified, suddenly giving up power to this strange, unpredictable female? I truly had no idea what I was getting into. But after so many years of involuntary celibacy, it’s hardly surprising that Big Linda had managed to strike such a responsive chord in me. Whatever kinky excesses she had in mind, part of me, at least, seemed eager to learn. And learn I would.

Late that very night my bedroom door suddenly crashed open, jarring me awake and flooding the room with light. There stood Big Linda Skrue. Tall and forbidding, she was silhouetted from behind for just a moment before charging in to fall upon me. What happened then was the start of something more extreme than you can possibly believe.

Without the slightest bit of ceremony Big Linda leaped onto the wave-less mattress of my queen-sized waterbed and ripped away the covers to expose my naked body.

I couldn’t believe it myself. Such things didn’t actually happen, did they? Not to guys like me. Yet here was Big Linda, larger than life and twice as imposing. And real or not she wasted no time on formalities. Flinging her overcoat to the floor, this amazing Amazon straddled me, completely naked. The glorious orbs of her matchless breasts were revealed to me at last in their stunning entirety. Pink and cream and peach, huge and globular, they seemed to fill my entire world. Swelling out from Big Linda’s barrel chest like fleshy melons they hung before me like the deliciously forbidden fruit of some wondrously bountiful fertility goddess.

Oh, my lord! Slowly, deliberately Big Linda Skrue caressed them, cupping and lifting them, proudly hefting their generous weight. Her fingers found the nipples, pinching and twisting those large, protuberant points. Then without warning she fell forward, crushing that incredible bosom directly into my helpless face. Grabbing both hands full of my hair, Big Linda held my head tight and buried me in her tits. Twisting and writhing, slapping me with their firm, springy weight, she scraped the hard arrowheads of her nipples roughly across my cheeks and chin and mouth before finally gripping my head tight and forcing one of them between my lips.

“Suck me, boy!” she hissed down. Her weight was crushing me, the massive swell of her left breast pressing against my nostrils, limiting my air. Nevertheless I went straight to work. I knew I had no other choice. It was either satisfy this potent new mistress or suffer the most unimaginable of consequences. Immediately I fastened myself to that invading nipple. Sucking its thick, stiff point deep into my mouth, I began pulling at it for all I was worth.

Mmmmmmmmmm! I was immediately rewarded for my efforts, hearing my Big Mistress Linda moan almost inaudibly. Encouraged I sucked harder, feeling the taut, heavy flesh of that mammoth mammary quiver against my face, as involuntary shivers of pleasure ran through her. Now sucking, now nipping and nibbling and then suckling again, I fed voraciously at that enormous udder, while the incredibly gorgeous Big Linda Skrue panted and moaned and yipped out eerie cries of pleasure just above me. Finally, with a last, desperate gasp, she ripped her stiff tit-bud brusquely away from my manic mastication.

Snarling down at me, still holding me tightly by the hair, Big Mistress Linda twisted her torso back and forth and all around, rubbing that hard wet point all over my helpless face. Big and rubbery, it scraped my features from chin to brow and ear to ear. Then she forced open my jaws and immediately popped in the other one, demanding equal service.

Dutifully I obeyed, attacking those tasty pink nipples, licking, sucking and nibbling, using my lips and teeth and tongue on them with all of my energy and skill. Soon they were each so red and distended that I expected them to begin spurting hot milk all over me at any moment. Yet this obviously wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy a voracious specimen like Big Linda Skrue, and she soon let me know it.

As I continued to humbly work on her, I suddenly felt Big Linda’s hand reach around back and seize the rigidly upright length of my cock. She began pumping it, taunting me as she did so, humiliating me and forcing me to grovel beneath her.

“What the hell’s with this worthless hard-on, you disgusting man, you weak little shit! Don’t you understand the situation here yet? Well let me educate you, boy. You are here for my pleasure alone, got it? That’s all. To me you are nothing but another of my toys, a dildo to stick in my cunt, and that’s it! From now on you do what I say, when I say, get it? If I say suck, then you suck, damn it, and if I feel like riding your useless little cock, you damn well better stay rock hard until I’m finished! This cock belongs to me now, slut-slave! See? You are just a convenient tongue attached. So you behave yourself, little man, and one day maybe I’ll even let you up inside me. Then again...” She paused in her wonderful pumping, gripping me tightly, even painfully. “I think my cunt’s too good for a worthless little cripple like you.”

Once again Big Linda ripped her succulent tit unceremoniously from my suckling jaws. Then she sat up, releasing my throbbing cock.

“I’m going to make you jerk yourself off instead. You like playing with yourself, don’t you? You probably like it far better than fucking a real woman like me anyway. What else were you doing this morning, huh: playing with yourself! You shameless little piece of shit! Admit it! Admit your guilt, your weakness, and maybe I’ll let you jerk yourself off!”

Looming over me, glaring down, with her beautiful huge breasts heaving with excitement and her sweet cunt just out of reach, Big Linda Skrue seemed a totally different creature from my detached, efficient, calmly professional home health aide. I could hardly believe that woman ever existed. In her place was a powerfully motivated sexual dynamo, a simmering cauldron of consuming desires, boiling with the uncontainable need to dominate and humiliate a helpless male – perhaps by proxy even the whole male sex.

I’d never seen anything like it. From whence came such a burning need? Someone must have hurt her bad at one time, to make her so determinedly misogynous. Or perhaps it was just that every man she’d deigned to try had failed to satisfy her.

Whatever the case, it was clear that Big Mistress Linda meant to thoroughly degrade me more than just verbally as the price of having sex with her. Yet as I lay there buck-naked and completely helpless beneath her – and far too long deprived of any kind of intercourse – I somehow found the price shamefully easy to pay.

Intentionally or not, Big Linda’s overbearing approach and domineering attitude had managed to tap into strange, hidden needs buried so deep in my own psyche that I’d never before recognized them. To this day I still haven’t unraveled the mystery of their existence. But I do know one thing. Somehow our previous confrontation in the bathtub had shown me an avenue into ecstasy more profound than anything I’d ever dreamed of.

I remembered the incredible intensity of my involuntary orgasm, and the secret, guilty pleasure of being caught indulging in my own degradation. Somehow in that shocked moment of utter shame and exquisite, mind-blowing release, I’d unwittingly crossed a border into some perverse, narcissistic inner terrain, an uncharted realm of eager, willing submission to personal humiliation. Now, prostrated before this powerfully aggressive, irresistibly dominant woman, that deeply rooted need yearned upward in me, urging me to abandon myself to Big Mistress Linda’s ruthless, authoritarian control. And again, what choice did I have? Like an omnipotent goddess she towered over me: beautiful, wrathful, and implacable. And then suddenly Big Linda’s patience ran out. She struck me, slapping me smartly across the face.

“I said admit it!” she screamed. “Admit your weakness, you fucking piece of shit!” She slapped me harder, again and again, and the pain was exciting, delicious, sharpening my humiliation to the point where I was finally able to cry out my willing submission.

“Yes, Mistress, I admit it!” I blurted. Unrehearsed the words tumbled from me. “I’m a weak, despicable little shit! I play with myself, I do! I sit alone in the bathtub and masturbate, wishing I were man enough for you! Oh Mistress, I’m a bad, dirty, shameful little boy!”

“That’s too fucking right!” Big Linda shouted immediately down. “Now prove it! Jerk yourself off, right here in front of me!”

“No, no, Big Linda!” I wailed, getting totally into the game. “Please, don’t make me touch myself, it’s dirty, it’s evil, it’s bad!”

“That’s right!” she screeched back. “It’s sleazy and disgusting and you love it! Now do it, you shameless, worthless, perverted little bastard! Touch yourself!”

And so at last I closed my eyes and reached down, taking myself in hand. But before I could begin abusing myself, my mistress Big Linda slapped me again, so hard it stunned me.

“Look at me, damn you!” she snarled. “Open your eyes and look me in the face while you do it, you filthy little slut!”

And so I complied, lying guilty there beneath her, watching her watch me with an expression of irremediable contempt as I slowly fondled myself. Leaving off stroking my seemingly rock-hard penis for a moment I cupped and rubbed my tingling balls. Then finally I once again took that impatiently waiting cock in a good hard grip and started pumping away.

Deeply humiliated I jerked my rod, gasping and groaning and feeling my face color with shame. Meanwhile Big Linda Skrue smirked derisively down at me, folding her arms under her magnificent breasts and dishing out a constant, scathing critique of my performance. Was that as fast as I could go? Was that as hard as I could get? She wasn’t surprised. A worthless piece of shit like me...she wanted to see more, damn it! More! “Perform for your mistress, slave!”

And so I worked it harder, panting and moaning, pumping and jerking myself for all I was worth. Meanwhile my eyes crawled avidly over Big Mistress Linda’s unbelievable body, poised above me in mocking judgment of my weakness and perversity.

What a sight! Better than any airbrushed pin-up by far. Soon I felt myself throbbing urgently, swelling ever larger; my balls tightening with expectation. Eventually I was whimpering and moaning uncontrollably under my own stimulation, my face and cock burning hot with blood and my desperate arousal peaking. Yet I wasn’t the only one turned on.

By this time Big Linda had become visibly aroused as well. Her big pink nipples were incredibly erect, with obvious gooseflesh rashed out all over her wonderful body. Meanwhile both hands had crept between her legs, and with her head thrown back and her chest thrust out she began working her own genitals with breathless abandon.

Oh, Mistress!

Masturbating there before me she was a stunning spectacle, her red-golden hair falling over her powerful shoulders in a shining cascade, her orange-freckled face flushed with arousal and her massive tits jiggling to the rhythm of her strokes. At last she began reaching for her climax, gouging at herself and shrieking at me.

“Now, Slut-boy! Come now, damn you! Blow that filthy load all over yourself!”

Her command was absolute. The eruption building in my balls became instantly uncontainable. Sticky-white dream cream suddenly fountained from my prick, leaping so high in the air that hot splatters of it rained down all over my chest, belly, and even my face and neck.

That was all Big Linda needed. Seeing me degraded like that her own uncontainable orgasm tore through her, exiting her shuddering body in an escalating series of animalistic screams. Higher and higher they rose, shivering the air of the room, and my fear of her grew apace. She sounded like some kind of she-beast in heat. But last Big Linda tapered off into panting gasps, sneering down at me as she regained her breath.

“Look at you, with your own come dripping down your face.” But for some reason her scorn was less than it was, and she leaned over and began licking me off.

With her wet, deliciously warm tongue, Big Linda Skrue cleaned first my face and neck, then my chest and stomach and finally the spent, slowly wilting length of my cock.

She spent several long minutes licking and slurping and sucking me up, and before long she had me coaxed up into yet another erection. But the moment I was hard again she quit, rising from the bed and retrieving her coat from the floor.

“That’s all for tonight,” Big Linda declared. “I’m not touching you again. I’ve got other things to do. Finish it up yourself, Slut-boy.” She gestured peremptorily, and waited until I once again took myself in hand. Then she continued.

“You just jerk yourself off one more time, and think about how much you want me to fuck you. You might not be so grateful later. ‘Cause believe me, little sex toy, we’re just getting started. I’ve got things to do to you that you won’t believe. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Slut-boy. Just you wait. In the meantime, get jerking!” And with that she turned and slammed out the door, leaving me alone, naked and erect in the dark.

Still stunned, I didn’t even try to come to terms with what had just happened. I just started pumping, picturing Big Linda’s sneering face and feeling my own cheeks coloring yet again with shame. Now that I knew who the real boss was around here, I obeyed her unconditionally. Whipped along by the goad of Big Linda’s imagined demands, I jerked and jerked and jerked my stubbornly hard yet increasingly abraded cock until I thought my arm would fall off. Finally, after nearly half an hour of painful, urgent labor, I at last managed to yank myself to the day’s third orgasm. Crying out with unbelievable release and relief, I spasmed and shuddered, then spewed out a single, pearly white dot to the menacing memory of Big Linda Skrue.

My arm aching, cock-sore and shame-faced, exhausted and depleted, I collapsed straight asleep after that. Morning – and the rest of my suddenly unsettling future – would just have to take care of themselves.

Visit Two: Turning the Tables

Well, I’d been warned. That’s about all I can say. Mistress had told me – warned me – that she had things to do to me. Unbelievable things. But I guess my imagination just wasn’t the equal of Big Linda Skrue’s depravity.

Of course, at that point how could it be? I wasn’t yet then the man that I am now. My transformation into a twisted sexual plaything was just beginning. As yet I had no idea how far things could go. But I’d learn soon enough. Although this was only the second night of our incredible affair, it was an occasion that would forever establish the tenor of my asymmetric relationship with Big Linda Skrue.

Another profound, fundamental reversal of position was imminent: a further transfer of power from me to her that would open yawning chasms into depths of subjugation I would come to wallow in and yet still wish had remained forever closed. Following a pattern set just the day before it was again the darkest depths of the middle of the night when I suddenly heard the front door slam open. Startled I called out, but there was no response to my cries but the sharp, heavy tread of spike-heeled boots.

I strained hopelessly to move, but was only able to shift my arms, shoulders and upper body. Then Big Linda Skrue stepped into the room, and as she turned to confront me I saw the flash of steel-studded collars above the neck and below the cuffs of her long leather overcoat. Immediately my heart began pounding, and I felt a paralyzing mix of dreadful fear and desperate, uncontrollable desire. I couldn’t have moved if I was able as she slowly unbelted the coat and shrugged it to the floor.

In the dim light from the hallway I saw at first just the savage gleam of her burning eyes and bared teeth. Then, dropping my gaze past that wide spiked collar and down her sculpted, statuesque body, I suddenly caught my breath.

Big Linda was again completely naked – except for the aforementioned collars, boots, and a complex body-harness of black leather straps.

Wickedly spiked and studded all over, this supported and separated her huge breasts, as well as looping around her back, shoulders, waist and crotch. Buckles and rings glimmered in the faint light, and a pair of stainless-steel handcuffs hung at her waist, jingling and jostling another long, dark object that hung there as she moved to approach me. I felt a thrill of fear as I thought I recognized it (what possible use could she have for one of those?), and then she was upon me, ripping away the blankets and exposing my naked body to the night.

I hadn’t seen or heard from her since the night before, when she left me panhandled and naked and once again dutifully jerking off. Yet she barely acknowledged me. Without a word she climbed boots and all right onto the bed. In a second she was atop me, effortlessly subduing my feeble struggles and capturing my hands.

Big Linda quickly and professionally handcuffed me, ignoring my whimpered pleas as she locked my wrists together and secured them high above my head. Then she leaned back, hands on her hips, staring down at me silently. Her huge tits heaved and her panting breath hissed excitedly between her teeth.

I had only a moment to taste the strange, exciting new thrill of bondage, and then suddenly Big Linda dropped atop me. Instantly her body began writhing: hips twisting and grinding, roughly pumping against me as she simultaneously thrust her huge, firmly strapped and supported breasts against my face.

Oh, Mistress! Her hands found the back of my head, twining in my hair and pulling me forward into that enveloping chest with savage pressure. Warm, firm, taut big breasts squashed my cheeks, burying me in the press of that gloriously resilient flesh. Crushed and ravished beneath that beautiful big body, I could see little but the red-golden fall of her hair that draped itself around us in a shining curtain. And still Big Linda manhandled me around, working herself urgently against me in the first frenzy of her need.

After a moment, I noticed that in her frantic squirming and undulating Big Linda was gradually nudging my legs apart, forcing them open beneath her until she lay between. There she began rubbing and pumping her strap-wrapped self against my naked body in earnest. Yet that wasn’t the only change. The circular, grinding friction she’d previously been generating had been replaced by a more straightforward, up-and-down rocking motion. Soon I realized that she was actually humping me.

Huh? Driven by whatever strange, unexplained need brought her to my bed in the middle of the night, Big Linda Skrue enveloped my helplessly straddled body: anchoring my upper half in her embrace and grinding her mound of Venus forcefully, rhythmically up into my open crotch. Holding me down, spreading my legs wider and wider, she grunted and snarled and roughly rubbed herself off on me.

What an incredibly strange, unexpected sensation! It was unlike anything I was prepared for, and I was stunned into enjoying it.

So this was how it felt: being taken, being used, being the one on the bottom! Soon I was really getting off on it, loving the butchy, masculine way that Big Linda used her magnificent body’s considerable weight and strength against my own pinned and helpless one. But then when she heard my moans of joy, Big Mistress Linda suddenly paused in her labors and rose up, looming over me in the dark.

With her strong shoulders squared and her melon-heavy breasts silhouetted from behind she looked imposing indeed. My heart pounded with a delicious trepidation as I lay there, awaiting my mistress’ desire.

What would it be tonight? More ridicule, tit-flogging, humiliating masturbation? Would she suck me off maybe, or would I taste her surely unbelievably delectable pussy? Better yet, instead of just riding my face, would she at last lower herself, and finally deign to fuck me? Seconds ticked away as I lay there speculating. Then suddenly I thought of Big Linda last night, and my endless, wickedly enforced efforts at masturbation.

I remembered my mistress mocking me as I played, and warning me against wishing for her to fuck me – implying that the greatest of my desires would eventually prove to be my undoing. Then, as these disquieting thoughts flashed suddenly across my mind, I heard an ominous click, as Mistress slowly, deliberately unhooked the object that hung at her side and held it up between us.

With a gasp of shocked recognition I saw that it was indeed a dildo: shiny black, big and thick. Wickedly ridged, this fake rubber penis sported not only a life-like head but also a complex web of upraised veins winding about the entire length of its heavy, slightly curved shaft. Witnessing how dawning horror was replacing unholy desire on my hotly flushed face, Big Linda finally chose to break her silence.

“That’s right, Slut-boy,” she ominously intoned. “I am going to take you. I’ve always wanted to show one of you brutish male bastards how it feels, and you’re the perfect candidate: totally helpless. I told you I had things to do to you – unbelievable things. But I don’t think you quite got the picture. So I’m going to spell it right out. I am going to butt-fuck you. I’m going to pound my big, black, nine-inch cock right up your ass. See?” She held it up, sneering at me, and began to chant in her derision.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in!

I’m going hump and pump and fuck your back door in!

I’m going to rape and ram and ream you out good,

Fuck your little boy-cunt you know I should!”

Big Linda laughed grimly after that, brandishing her giant dick.

“You wanted to get fucked, huh? You wanted me to fuck you? Well okay, Slut-boy. You’re going to live up to your new name. I’m going to fuck you. And I’m going to fuck you hard. I’m going to put this big prick on and fuck you until you cry and scream and beg me for more! So get ready for your Mistress’ cock, you contemptible little shit. Here it comes!”

I shook my head at this in hopeless denial, watching as Big Linda slowly slid that long, thick dildo deep up inside her. Sliding it in and out, twisting it around and liberally lubricating it with her body’s own juices, she finally withdrew it and somehow snapped it onto the heavy leather harness at her crotch. Then she posed there, that massive black cock-club jutting frighteningly forward.

Oh my god! What had I done, letting this woman inside my defenses? At last I could taste to the dregs the hopelessness of my condition, the horror of being able to completely feel my lower limbs and body but not command them. What defense had I against the weapon that sprouted from Big Linda’s groin? I couldn’t even close my useless legs. Paralyzed indeed by more than just dread, I couldn’t tear my eyes off it. Struggling fruitlessly I chafed my wrists in the hard steel cuffs as she positioned me: propping up my hips with a pillow, then lifting and spreading those oh-so accommodating lower limbs. Watching the bulbous black head of my doom approach, I squirmed to the pit of my cowardly male soul.

Terrified, repulsed – and yet still I must admit it, in some strange way deeply excited – I whimpered and begged pathetically, pleading with Big Linda not to do this to me. But of course she ignored me completely, pausing only to fondle and squeeze my swollen member and tingling balls before moving her hands lower to open me up and guide herself in.

She took me then, grinning wickedly down at my utter helplessness as she thrust forward, filling me up with her painfully large prick.

“Ahhhhhh, goddess!” I cried out, fighting her brutal invasion, but she was implacable: slowly withdrawing from me only to push forward more firmly, forcing herself deeper up into my tight little ass.

God damn her! Handcuffed and helpless, humiliated like never before, I lay struggling in shame beneath my pitiless, utterly dominant Mistress, enduring while she violated me. Soon she was vigorously pumping her hips, kneeling before my elevated opening and building up a soon-to-be-familiar thrusting rhythm that threatened to drive me completely mad. Her every potent stroke speared deeper, until at last her shapely hips were slamming up into me, rocking the immovable object of my captive body with the unstoppable force of her incredible thrusts.

Unbelievable! Panting with exertion, Big Linda Skrue grinned down at me. With her big round breasts bobbing and jiggling between her muscular arms, her prying hands held my butt-cheeks spread firmly open, my lowest, most personal portal gaping wide to receive each and every inch of those deeply penetrating stabs.

What a cruel, potent, indomitable mistress! Fearsomely gorgeous in her spiked and studded collars and harness, Big Mistress Linda maintained a mocking eye contact with me all the while she fucked me; again forcing me to personally acknowledge the humiliating reality of the circumstances. Naturally my own blushing cheeks burned brightly with shame, yet strangely enough, the rest of my involuntary response was totally contrary to what you might think. Despite the fundamental violation of my masculinity, despite (or alas, maybe because of) my extremely humiliating subjugation, in my teetering brain-state I suddenly felt my strange new compulsion for sexual submission come to life.

Holy SHIT! I thought, at last starting to slide toward acceptance. Now this was being dominated! This was being on the bottom with a vengeance! What more telling expression of Big Linda’s power over me could there possibly be? Before long my low, groaning response to her thrusting hips and raping cock began to take on an unmistakable crooning note. Instead of struggling to bring my unresponsive legs together, I soon found myself straining just as hard to spread them wider. Still Big Linda worked it up into me; pumping her hips ever harder and faster as she speared like a fatal invader into the vulnerable center of my body.

Eventually I could no longer hide my reluctant arousal. Big Linda noticed the renewed urgency of my erection, and heard the uncontrollable moans and gasps of pleasure that burst from my lips. She began to taunt me mercilessly then as she pounded her hard length in.

“Look at you!” she hissed. “You piggy little slut, you love it, don’t you? You love having me fuck you! Don’t you, Slut-boy! I knew you’d earn that name! I’m never going to call you anything else now! Slut-boy! Slut-boy! SLUT-BOY! You like my big hard cock, don’t you? You love it! Take it then, damn you! Take it deep, high up into your tight little ass! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Do you feel that? Huh? Do you feel what it’s like to be fucked, fucked so hard you can’t stand it, and yet you’re still begging for more? Take it then, Slut-boy! Take this! And this! And this! And this!” Punctuating her cries with especially hard, vicious thrusts, Big Linda Skrue hammered it up into me, grabbing and rubbing my quivering balls as she did so.

“You want it, don’t you?” she accused, squeezing my betraying erection as she continued to slam her own powerfully up into me. “Admit it, you bastard! Beg me for it, damn you! Beg!” I shook my head in horror at this ultimate in degradation, but Big Linda would not be denied. Slapping me, cursing me, she raged at me to beg her for the shameful pleasure of her violating cock. Finally she pulled it almost all the way out of me, demanding, “Beg me for it, you fucking piece of shit, or I’ll stop giving it to you!” Then she gently nudged the head of that wonderfully hard prick in and out of my aching and now hungry hole, cruelly teasing me with it. This was just too much, and I finally surrendered to the inevitable.

“Okay, yes, fuck me,” I wailed. “Fuck me hard! I love it, I do! Please Big Linda, fuck me! Fuck me up the asshole hard!”

“That’s better!” she snarled. Cruelly kind, she drove her big black boner instantly and entirely back into me. “Now keep it up!” Of course I obeyed unreservedly, and soon I was chanting mindlessly away.

“Fuck me Mistress, fuck me Big Linda, fuck me Mistress, fuck me Big Linda, fuck me, fuck me, fuck Big Linda, Big Linda, Big Linda, Big Linda, Big LINDA!” Her talismanic name itself became my mantra as she once again renewed her plunging rhythm.

This time however my Big Mistress Linda took some pity on me, perhaps rewarding my shameless acceptance of her incredibly intimate violation. Whatever the reason, in addition to pounding herself brutally in and out of my tight little ass, she suddenly grabbed my stiff prick where stuck so straight up in front of her and began pumping on it in equal time with the urgent rhythm of her butt-stabbing strokes.

Oh man, that felt so great I almost swooned!

Her hard cock slammed up into me, continuing my incredibly demeaning and demoralizing subjugation. Each stroke rubbed my sensitive prostate and simultaneously jiggled my tight, swollen balls until they churned with a nearly uncontrollable need for release. But now both of her strong hands also gripped my engorged dick, pulling back against the force of her rhythm and increasing her fucking leverage considerably. And of course this also had the additional incredible effect of jerking my uncircumcised erection rapidly up and down.

Sweet Jesus, I didn’t know if I was male or female or neither now, and I didn’t much care. All I knew was that I was out of my mind with ecstasy. Finally it was too much, and I think I screamed aloud – I’m not quite sure – as I at last felt an unstoppable volcano boil up through my throbbing, straining, hugely swollen cock. But before my semen could spray out of me in those familiar spasms of powerfully pumping pleasure, Big Linda’s pounding dick-thrusts climaxed in a supremely spearing frenzy.

Releasing my shuddering cock at the penultimate moment, she dropped suddenly towards me. Catching herself with her hands, she propped her heavy body up on palms and toes in order to get her entire weight behind each and every unbelievable stroke. Then she began hammering away in earnest. Sliding out to the tip of the head and then slamming back in to the base again and again and again, she delivered such a frantic succession of such incredibly deep, painfully driving thrusts that this time I know I screamed and screamed and screamed aloud my uncontainable pain and pleasure. Meanwhile my wildly shuddering prick finally exploded, merging invasion with orgasm at last and spraying us both with copious gobs of hot wet sperm. And only after every last drop spat out did the amazing Big Linda Skrue at last collapse atop me, exhausted from her prodigious energy expenditure.

Her hard prick still filled me, and the pressure of her heavy breasts squashed against me was heavenly. Nevertheless, all I could do was pant and fight for breath, basking in the afterglow of the most unexpectedly incredible sexual experience of my life. But eventually my glorious, wonderful mistress stirred, backing up and slowly sliding out of me.

Apparently satisfied already, Big Linda Skrue rose from the bed of my defilement and removed the long rubber dildo that had given me such painful pleasure. She returned it to her belt, unlocking the handcuffs on my wrists and doing likewise with them. Then, leaving me spread open wide and wet with sweat and semen, she got into her coat and without another word stomped out of the house.

As I said: unbelievable. Just as she’d promised, of course. Yet what about me? What about my own unbelievable response? Squirming, I tried to shut off all thought of it. Unwilling to more than obliquely confront what had happened to me, I lay there exhausted, caressing my aching, violated body. Then I began to wonder what else might happen to me, when Big Linda Skrue inevitably returned…

Linda’s Interlude: My Own Little Toy

Lately I’ve been having the most exciting time with this guy I know. I can’t believe he actually puts up with it – not that he has much choice. Ever since I caught him jerking off one day he’s been completely at my mercy. The best part of it is he used to be my boss! I was actually afraid he’d cancel my contract. But after our first night together I knew I had nothing to worry about. There’s absolutely nothing I can do to him that wouldn’t make him just fall on his face and beg me for more.

It’s pretty obvious why. He’s been living in a state of enforced celibacy for years. The poor little fuck reminds me of a kid in a candy store with no nickel in his pocket, left to conjure up his gratification with nothing more than impotent images. After a decade of that, who knows what he’s willing to go through in order to get his rocks off? That makes him like sexual silly-putty in my endlessly inventive hands.

As I said, I can literally do anything I want to him, and I do. First I like to sneak into his bedroom, late in the middle of the night, and take him by surprise. Leaping onto his bed, I immediately set about totally and completely dominating him. There is no degradation too extreme, and so I play with him for hours, forcing him to service me however I please, making him submit to all kinds of outrageously kinky things.

Of course, I’ve got to look the part of a demon dominatrix. So usually I dress up in this harness of tight leather straps, my gigantic tits just bursting out of it, and wear silver-spiked collars on my neck and wrists. Then I put on thigh-high stiletto-heeled boots and my black leather overcoat and stride over there: kicking in his door and snapping on the light.

I love the way his timid brown eyes jerk open, starting in shock and then widening in uneasy recognition. Immediately I tear off my overcoat, and as his eager gaze fastens on my bare beasts I feel a familiar rush of power surge through me. He is mine! The way his eyes crawl greedily over my body reinforces yet again the knowledge that he can never refuse me anything. Brimming with zeal I spring forward, ripping off the blankets and throwing them to the floor. Already his ridiculous little prick is twitching and swelling. For now I ignore it though. Time enough for that later.

“Big Linda, please...” is all he manages, and then I’m upon him Straddling his helpless body I drop my considerable weight right on his belly. The breath whooshes out of him, and before he can begin to recover I grab him by his admittedly cool long hair and bury his sputtering face in my tits. He struggles under me, thrashing about as much as he can. But pitilessly I crush him down and start twisting my shoulders violently back and forth, beating him into submission with my swinging, slapping, heavily hanging breasts.

Trapped under my powerful body he starts whimpering and pleading with me, his voice muffled but its groveling tone unmistakable. Yet still his traitor cock continues to grow, climbing the inside of my thigh to press insistently up against me.

That impudent bastard! I pull back, and clamping his head in my hands I rub one of my excitement-hardened nipples all over his face, roughly grinding it around and around before finally forcing open his jaws and pushing it between his big soft lips.

“Suckle me, slave!” I demand, and he immediately complies, pulling at my tender, turgid nipple for all he’s worth. Much as I hate to admit it, he’s actually damn good at it. Feeding voraciously at my sumptuous breast his thick lips create a long, hard, almost painfully insistent suction. Meanwhile he peers humbly, fearfully up at me, an insecure little boy pathetically seeking approval.

Of course I give him none. Tearing my tit from his jaws I scramble up his body to squash my hungry cunt into his helpless face. There I ride him, holding fistfuls of his hair and rasping myself back and forth and all around, barely giving him a chance to breathe. Finally I settle on his mouth and let him eat me, but the eager, fumbling way he goes about it fills me with scorn.

It’s obvious my little Slut-boy here still has a thing or two to learn. Well, I’m just the woman for that! Big Mistress Linda can always provide strict indoctrination into the art of oral sex! First I start taunting him, berating him for his inadequacy, and the guilty blush of his shame gets me off like nothing else. That childish little pansy! That worthless piece of shit! Suddenly my voracious cunt feels like a mouth lined with teeth, eager to devour his entire face.

Fuck teaching him anything else! I decide to just use him. That’s what he’s there for after all; just a contemptible little sex toy to satisfy my most selfish pleasures. Let him learn on his own, if he’s able. If not, let him suffer the consequences. I push his head back, deep into the pillow, and start rubbing myself off on his jutting chin. That hard knob of bone is covered with stubble, and it rasps and chafes my burning clit delightfully. I just go nuts then, literally attacking him with my pussy, using him like I do my cheapest vibrator. Back and forth, up and down, once again I grind my groin into and all over his face as hard as I can, liberally slathering him with my sticky juices. With zero concern for his bodily well-being I smother him this way until I just can’t stand it anymore. Then at last I turn to his prick.

By this time it’s swollen into an eagerly pulsating pole, sticking up from his crotch like an eight-inch exclamation point. Cruelly I slap it around, bending it and twisting it and yanking on it so hard he yelps with undeniably erotic agony. Finally, after all this extensive teasing and deliberately sadistic procrastination I straddle and mount it, inserting it in whichever of my holy holes is hungriest and jamming myself down onto it.

Slut-boy cries out louder than ever, drowning out my own exquisite gasp of pleasure. As always I slap him repeatedly as I fuck him, hitting him hard across the face again and again, letting him know in no uncertain terms who the boss is around here now. Meanwhile my hips quickly find their rhythm, and I drop forward, planting my hands on either side of his head and dangling my tremendous tits in his face. Then holding him inescapably in place I ride that hot rod of flesh furiously, panting and grunting and crying out with pleasure, feeling my first orgasm of the night building within me.

At last it explodes through me, and suddenly I find myself screaming deliriously, mindlessly riding out the waves of contractions that pulse through my loins. Dimly I hear the worthless little shit trapped under me cry out, and as my tight cunt convulses on it the hard cock I’m riding starts shuddering, then it suddenly and unforgivably spurts up inside me.

That goddamn bastard! Furiously I scream at him, venting my rage with an especially damaging roundhouse slap.

His face will be swollen all puffy and purple tomorrow, and it serves him right. He isn’t supposed to come until I order him to, goddamn it! I wanted that tasty hot load! Not only that, I was just getting started. I could have come another five times probably. For good measure I strike him again, as hard as I possibly can, literally rocking his head and making him bawl like a baby. Then I climb off his shriveling little worm, still seething.

That fucking loser! That useless piece of trash! Luckily I now know how to respond to this particular transgression; by confronting the worthless offender with his fondest dream and very worst nightmare all in one. You see, after years of intense sexual study, I believe I’ve finally found the secret to controlling a man.

Whether dealt out occasionally as a rare reward or inflicted daily as a regular punishment, this particular disciplinary tool draws its effectiveness from the devastating truth that it conveys: that despite all his terrified beliefs and ridiculous hang-ups, every last man on Earth secretly yearns to be the recipient, not the giver, of a good invasive fuck.

It’s true. Don’t even try to deny it. I can see the truth now in Slut-boy’s already swelling, miserably conflicted face. Deep in their hearts, all males know that the ancient, planet-dominating force embodied in their pricks is basically useless without the even greater miracle of the superior female’s fertile furrow. You see, we are the givers of life, holders of the most incredible power in the universe. Men know this, and despite all their earthly dominance they yearn for it. Subconsciously they yearn for it so bad they can’t resist trying to emulate it. Sooner or later they just have to have that big hard dick directed right back at them. Why do you think there are so many faggots in the world?

The philosophy of Big Linda Skrue in a nutshell. Oh well. Determined to re-teach an old lesson, I go to my coat. From an inside pocket I take my favorite black rubber dildo: nine inches long and heavily ridged with life-like veins and contours. Relishing the look of horror (and yes, irrepressibly unholy excitement) on Slut-boy’s guilty face, I attach my big hard cock securely to my crotch and return to the bed.

“You know the penalty for an unauthorized orgasm!” I snarl.

And with that I move in and really show my Slut-boy what it means to be fucked!

Visit Three: On the Cutting Edge

Okay, steel yourself for this. About two weeks into our increasingly dangerous affair I suffered what was until that point easily the most upsetting experience of my entire life. The night I broke my neck couldn’t begin to compare with it. It was only then that I truly appreciated what submitting to the insanely depraved desires of Big Linda Skrue might eventually cost me.

At shortly after the door once again crashed open, wrenching me from a sound sleep and into heart-pounding wakefulness. There, framed in the doorway, hands on her hips, stood my implacable mistress. I knew what she wanted of course – in general, at least – and I trembled as I saw the latest expression of her endlessly inventive need.

Her long hair was tucked up into a crisply billed black cap, and mirrored sunglasses covered her eyes. Yet the haughty, imperious sneer on her beautiful face was far from the most intimidating thing about her. The rest of her military get-up was straight out of some lurid, pornographic concentration camp comic book.

Besides tightly laced combat boots she wore little but an oversized Nazi fatigue jacket, complete with the glittering death’s head insignia of the SS. Open down the front, the tough black cloth was stretched tightly around her Rubenesque curves while still revealing depthless cleavage and matching halves of those amazingly swollen globes. The sleeves had been ripped raggedly off, exposing Big Linda’s frighteningly muscular arms, and a webbed belt cinched it tightly at her waist. Appropriately terrorized, demoralized, and sickeningly aroused already, I swallowed hard upon noticing a wicked array of objects dangling from that belt: shining steel shackles, a silver-tipped swagger stick, the usual giant dildo of course, and there, sheathed at her side, a long, heavy-bladed, vintage World War II bayonet.

Holy shit! Despite my stupid, irresponsibly twitching cock I groaned to myself.

Now what? Now what terribly twisted perversity was in store for me? I had no doubt that I’d submit to it – what else could I do? But by now I was beginning to seriously fear for not only my health but my sanity as well. As usual though, my beautiful blonde dominatrix gave no sign of any specific intent. She merely stood there, scowling ferociously down at me before finally stepping deliberately into the room.

Approaching the bed, Big Mistress Linda stripped away the covers with her habitual practiced sweep of an arm. Then she promptly set about securing my already helpless body. Quickly she slapped those shackles onto my wrists and ankles, spreading my arms and legs out wide and chaining them to the bed’s four corners. When I was at last stretched tightly spread-eagled, without any possibility of resistance at all, she moved in close, looming ominously over me. Finally I mustered the nerve to break the silence, but I got no further than the first word.

“What… ” I began, and my mistress Big Linda stopped me instantly with her signature stinging roundhouse slap.

“Silence!” she shrieked. “Inmates do not speak unless ordered to!”

Stars spun in my head, and with my shocked face twitching and tingling and then suddenly flaming with delayed pain I bit my lip, trembling worse than ever, while she looked me deliberately up and down. Finally her attention fastened on the stiffly upright rod of my prick. Snarling she seized it in a painfully tight grip.

“All right inmate,” Big Linda growled in the menacing manner imaginable. “What is this fucking thing?”

My plump purple plum jutted from her enclosing fist like a pulsing heart, and the death grip she had on it was exquisitely arousing. Searching in vain for my voice I merely groaned, unable to understand or articulate my instinctive response. When I was slow to answer she jerked on me, pulling the monster – as I humbly call it – painfully back and down until it pointed straight between my splayed apart feet.

“Speak!” she demanded.

“It...it...it’s only my penis,” I finally stammered, wincing. “And it’s yours anyway, you know that.” Usually it’s wise to play along – but not this time.

“Well if it my penis,” Big Linda snapped right back, “What the hell is it doing hard without my permission?” I could only shake my head, unable to answer, and that was when she drew the bayonet, over twelve inches of gleaming German steel. My heart leaped immediately into my throat.

“Well!” She snarled again. “Since you don’t know, and since it’s my penis, maybe I’ll just cut it right the fuck off! Inmates are not allowed to have erections unless ordered to!” With that she pulled down harder against my straining cock’s natural curve, exposing the vein-marbled root, and with a sadistic snarl of excitement she put the cool, keen edge of her blade to the base of my blood-filled member. Naturally I thrashed against my bonds, fruitlessly seeking escape, but of course it was useless. I was chained out as taut as a violin string.

Oh my God! Just like always, the incredibly compelling thrill of my bondage was exquisitely arousing to me, making my predicament ever so much worse. Nevertheless I burst forth with a flood of pleas and cries, begging Big Linda not to take my cock.

Somehow I sensed that this wasn’t just a game, that maybe this time she actually meant to really hurt me, and I begged and whimpered and groveled uncontrollably, caught up in heart-freezing terror. Yet in spite of this fear, or perhaps indeed because of it, my desperately perverted arousal grew even greater as well. My back-bent, hugely swollen prick burned against the cold steel of the bayonet blade, and it throbbed so powerfully that it surely would have been cut had her strong grip not held it firm. Meanwhile my balls just boiled with pent-up lust, and that potent sensory stew drove all coherent thought from my head. Yet somehow my frantic, desperate pleas caught Big Linda’s attention, and she paused, looking down at me scornfully.

“What, you value this worthless piece of meat?” she sneered. “You want to keep it? Well you just admitted that it’s mine. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just cut it right off and cram it down your fucking throat!”

Needless to say I racked my spinning brain, trying desperately to think of a way to save my manhood. Unfortunately, Big Linda Skrue’s sharp, deadly bayonet was lightly, teasingly tracing circles around my threatened prick and balls, making it almost impossible to think. Then abruptly snapping, “Time’s up!” she pulled my helpless cock back even harder, stretching out its neck and once again exposing the root. As she placed the heavy blade’s razor edge to my skin, my mental paralysis immediately broke.

“No!” I cried, “Wait, I know, I know, I can use it on you!” I was babbling, terrified. “I will, I will, I will Big Linda, I promise! Please, Big Linda, please use me, use my prick and balls and butt-hole and body like you always do!” Tempted in spite of herself, Big Linda paused, still holding that blade against my steely-hard cock.

“What, this pathetic little thing?” she laughed. “You think you can satisfy me with this? Never! Not in the entire length of the thousand-year Reich!”

Again she bent to her task, squeezing me tighter, pulling me harder, and clearly preparing to sever my swollen appendage from my body in one swift stroke. Screaming and thrashing, straining my thews to the limit but wholly unable to move an inch against the taut steel chains, I desperately tried one last time.

“Oh God, my beloved Big Linda no, please don’t! I swear you will climax so hard so many times, more than ever before, please, just give me this one chance!”

Mercifully she paused again, her bulging biceps flexing as she gripped the knife, considering. Finally she answered, biting off her words viciously.

“All right, inmate. You’ll get your chance. You’ve got until dawn. I’ll try this pathetic little cock, and the rest of you, too. But if I’m not totally, totally satisfied, if I don’t have the best fucking night of my entire sex life, off it comes!”

She sheathed the knife in one fluid motion, releasing my throbbing prick. At once it shot back up to its original forward-straining curve, and I almost fainted in my relief. I had until sunrise to satisfy this most voracious valkyrie, but it wasn’t going to be easy. That became obvious immediately.

Big Linda Skrue attacked me straightaway, hitching up the skirt of her shirt and taking her accustomed position astride my face. But instead of squashing her pussy down into it as usual she edged herself forward just a little bit further.

“Now, you stinking bastard,” she growled gutturally down at me. “I order you clean out my hole with your ugly fucking tongue!”

Tentatively I extended it and began to stroke her sweet vagina, but immediately Big Linda cuffed me hard on the head, stopping me.

“Not that one, dummkopf, the other!” I looked up, past her shaved bare bulge and heavily laden belt, between the massive, matching curves of her giant breasts and finally up into the implacable glare of her shiny mirrored sunglasses.

“You heard me, inmate,” she grated, “Clean my out my hole or I’ll cut your mongrel cock off right fucking now!” And so I did.

My face burning worse than ever at this incredible degradation I ran out my tongue and licked up Big Linda Skrue’s asshole, running it all around before pushing deep and using the pointy tasting tip to probe her powerful body’s pink, puckered center. Her hands found and gripped her butt-cheeks then, spreading them wide and allowing me unlimited access. For at least fifteen long minutes I slavishly licked and cleaned and even tongue-fucked her, repeatedly pushing as deeply as possible into her gaping anus, all the while feeling my provisionally condemned erection throbbing and bobbing, straining ever higher toward heaven.

By this time arousal and debasement had truly become inextricably linked for me, and I was almost disappointed when Big Linda finally shifted away, grunting her satisfaction and settling her already dripping pussy over my mouth with a sigh. Nevertheless I went straight to work, eating her out like never before.

I serviced that lube-ilicious vagina like a man possessed. And by the sound of Big Linda’s breathless panting and melodic moaning I was finally learning the trick of it. Soon she started rocking back and forth, rudely humping me with her crotch. Roughly rubbing herself off on me in her preferred fashion, she was soon once again treating my face like it was just some cheap erotic toy. Chained out helpless, sentenced to a savagely intimate mutilation and entirely at Big Linda’s mercy, I could only lie there, fighting to snatch a breath now and then, as she roughly twisted and ground and pumped herself into an incredible succession of ever more intense, wildly screaming orgasms. And of course that was barely the beginning.

From there she moved to my erection, mounting me and using it with such an urgent, frenzied passion that I couldn’t believe she actually intended to slice it off when she was done. Yet who knew? She was as unpredictable as she was demanding, and I knew I had no choice but to believe her threats – and to perform for her as though my very life depended on it. And so I did, on and on, act after twisted sex act, as Big Linda Skrue used me for everything her wild imagination and voracious appetite could come up with.

The night soon became an incredible blur of images: Big Linda battering me brutally about with her gigantic breasts; Big Linda grinding her crotch into my face and ordering me to lick out whichever hole was currently hungrier; Big Linda cursing foully in German and repeatedly beating me everywhere (though especially on the genitals and the bare bottoms of my feet) with her leather-covered swagger stick; and of course Big Linda kneeling before me or propped above me, tirelessly wielding her strapped-on dildo, vengefully slam-hammering it into my own exceedingly greedy asshole. Still first and last and most of all, from beginning to end and ever in between, it was Big Mistress Linda Skrue riding and riding and riding and riding: mounted atop my straddled hips and achingly erect prick and plunging and bucking like rodeo queen intent on breaking me.

It was to this timeless eternal standard that our endless succession of sex acts always came around again. Whether facing forward or back, whether I was lodged in her slickly gripping pussy or her tight, muscular ass, Big Linda was constantly astride my body. Humping and pumping away, she was always seeking that next orgasm, and then the next, and the next, hour after hour as that endless night crept slowly around toward dawn. But finally the sky behind the curtains began to lighten, and I knew my time was almost up. Big Linda Skrue noticed too, in the very act of reaming me out once again. Then just as the sun’s limb broke the horizon I suddenly felt her stabbing thrusts cease, and her big thick prick slide all the way out of me.

She arose from the bed, that massive black cock jutting wickedly forward and bobbing only slightly with her movements. Smirking at the strangely worshipful way in which I now regarded this, she stood staring ominously down at me, one of her hands toying idly with the shaft as she slowly shook her head.

“Well, inmate, it looks like your time is finally up. It’s sunrise, and I’m not satisfied. Not even close! So say good-bye to that worthless little prick!”

What? Appalled and stricken to the heart I gaped at her.

What about all those uncontrollable moans and groans? What about those surely innumerable screaming, shrieking, hip-bucking orgasms? What about the absolutely savage exhilaration that shone from her as she brutally, endlessly violated my tender asshole? How could she possibly not be satisfied? Unbelievingly I watched in numb-struck horror as Big Linda Skrue once again drew her bayonet and reached for my still-rigid erection. Pressing the flat of the blade against my quivering balls, she grinned wickedly over at me.

“You know, I think I’ll take these from you, as well. They’re no good to you without a penis, are they? With that bitchin’ long hair of yours we’ll just make you into a sweet, sexy little girlie-girl – if you survive the trauma and blood loss, that is. ”

Incredibly she smiled then, a cold, wicked smile full of evil intent, and seized the hot spike of my condemned erection. I still couldn’t believe this was happening. And after the exhaustive night we’d just passed, I didn’t have the energy to even try to resist – useless as that would have been. Hopeless tears ran streaming from my eyes, and I broke down crying as Big Linda once again pulled my unbearably precious penis up and back and placed her sharp blade once again against the root.

“Oh, quit blubbering, inmate,” she sneered contemptuously at me. “At least you just had the best night of your formerly non-existent sex life, and the knife will be quick and clean. Unless....” she paused. “Unless you’d rather I used my teeth.”

Seeing the look of redoubled horror on my face, Big Linda Skrue crowed with delight.

“Oh yes! I think it would only be appropriate if I were to bite it off! I’ll save the bayonet for your useless balls!” With that she laid it aside and immediately went down on me.

With her big strong hand firmly anchoring the base of my hard-on, Big Linda slipped it into her mouth, her lips closing on the pulsing purple head with a sensation that was nothing short of heavenly. Then she began bobbing, her tightly gripping lips sliding up and down the shaft, taking more of it with each engulfing stroke.

Holy shit! For what certainly must have been the last time ever my hotly burning cock gradually disappeared from view, as Big Mistress Linda Skrue methodically worked to get her teeth as far down onto it as possible before biting in and savagely shearing it away.

Dearest holy goddess, why didn’t I go immediately insane? Overcome by a monstrously perverse mixture of terror and lust, I cried out instead in horribly conflicted ecstasy. Her powerful fist was now tightly squeezing and tugging on my balls, and those soft wet lips felt so divine sliding up and down on my condemned member that I thought I would simply die. Meanwhile my ultra-sensitive glans was rubbing insistently against the back of Big Linda’s expertly accommodating throat. Perhaps realizing for itself that this was the end, ‘the monster’ seemed determined to make the most of it. Its wildly firing nerve endings sizzled and sang with indescribable electricity as I slipped further and further down the gullet of my doom.

And then at last Big Linda Skrue was all the way down, with her nose buried in hair and her teeth pressed tight against the flesh of my groin. Her lips skinned back from them in a ferocious grimace as she prepared to bite. Finally facing this travesty for real I screamed in unmitigated terror as her sharp incisors began to clamp down on the root of my penis. But then, just as that ultimate male horror was going from imminence to actuality, my cock and balls suddenly and literally convulsed. With their agonizing, ignominious end upon them they volcanoed into orgasm, erupting and pumping out an incredible flood of lava-hot come.

Unfurling ribbons and steaming streamers of semen spurted down Big Linda’s throat, and though her eyes flew wide, she immediately and greedily swallowed and swallowed and swallowed it all down. Still measure after untold measure of my supposedly useless seed continued to pump out of me. Long after it should have been spent it went on filling Mistress up even as it emptied out my soon-to-be-sacrificed testicles. And this time at least it wasn’t wasted. Big Linda’s throat muscles worked me like a sump pump, and even when that incredibly generous flow was eventually exhausted she continued to greedily suck and slurp, tightly squeezing and pulling on my prick from the bottom up in order to milk me of every last delicious drop. Finally she sat up however, wiping her lips and chin gazing amazed at me.

She’d lost the sunglasses at some point, and gone too was the implacable glare. Her eyes were now filled with an improbable mixture of awe and satiation. She smacked her lips, savoring both the memory and any remnants of that unexpected feast, and at last she spoke.

“Well inmate, I can’t believe it, but I think you just won yourself a reprieve. I guess that useless little penis of mine is good for something after all.” With that Big Linda sheathed her bayonet and moved to the head and foot of the bed. The chains and keys seemed jingle jubilantly as she finally removed my shackles. Then she gathered up her things and once again stamped out the door, leaving me to lie there, alone and intact and gasping out my unbelieving relief.

Visit Four: Fit to be Tied

Okay, by this point I was going crazy. I don’t know how else to put it. Big Linda’s visits had just become so mind-blowing. The things she did to me surpassed conceivability. Of course with the benefit of hindsight it’s easy to say I should have known I’d never be the same after her, that each visit was changing me further from what I’d been into what she was making of me. But at the time I was totally immersed in events, and so consumed by their ever more powerful and unexpected effects on me that I literally felt my sanity was hanging in the balance. After each occasion I was forced to struggle with obsolete conceptions of myself. Perhaps an excerpt from my journal, written after yet another incredibly punishing and yet paradoxically rewarding experience, will provide some insight into my state of mind at the time.

What am I going to do when she inevitably leaves me? How am I ever supposed to go back to my old life, where I don’t covet and crave my every minute as a slave? It’s gotten so that I long ago gave up any thought of resisting my mistress. She’s just so forceful, so demanding – and so strangely, irresistibly arousing – that I’ve had no choice but to submit utterly and completely to her comprehensive domination no matter how upsetting.

Savoring my supreme soul-thralldom, my incredibly abject helplessness before her, Big Mistress Linda never fails to take ruthless advantage of this. Her first act upon bursting in on me is invariably to secure me to the bed, effortlessly subduing any perfunctory struggles and tightly restraining me. Then she simply flings herself atop me, determined to carry out whatever mad sexual fantasy she’s just dreamed up. Trapped naked with her in my own imprisoning bedroom, strait-jacketed, tightly hog-tied or shackled out spread-eagled, I then spend endless hours submitting to her bizarre, depraved sexual necessities.

In fact, depraved hardly begins to describe it. Whatever the circumstances, whatever the perverse, punishing permutation, there are always costumes and games and roles to play, incorporating leather, rubber and steel, harnesses and buckles and straps, shackles and chains and ropes and manacles; hoods and blindfolds and penis- and ball-gags; paddles and canes and crops and whips and of course any number of big strap-on cocks. Satisfying sex for Big Linda is the unlimited exercise of power over a man, regardless of the particulars, and so she’s always cruelly merciless; deliberately demeaning me, insidiously subverting my born identity and ceaselessly glorying in her iron-fisted control as she pitilessly subjugates my captive manhood.

Looming over my bound and uselessly struggling form, with her impressively muscled shoulders and gigantic breasts bulging through her spike-studded harness, Big Mistress Linda maliciously rubs my face in my helplessness, vengefully subjecting me to all the conceivable degradations at her considerable command. Naturally I’ve lost track of all the individual ways in which she abuses me, but just because she’s inventive in her demands doesn’t mean she ignores the obvious. There are several set pieces she re-enacts over and over again. Time after time she’ll make me replay the humiliating incident that forever established our respective roles: my desperate, lonely masturbation, her derisive discovery of this, then the uncontrollable orgasm that spawned all of her subsequent sovereignty over me.

Lying there beneath her, my face burning with shame, I’ll use a temporarily freed hand to pull and pump and stroke my own cock, guiltily fondling and caressing and abusing myself.

Taunting me, slapping me, mocking my shamefully demeaning and yet undeniably arousing actions, Big Mistress Linda invariably forces me to look her straight in the eye as she contemptuously belittles me. This can go on for what seems like hours, but finally, after thoroughly debasing me this way, Mistress eventually tires of this admittedly tame sport. Stopping me short of consummation she chains me back up. Then she decides to take a more aggressive, straightforward physical approach to my subjugation.

Straddling my body, Big Linda squares and spreads her hulking shoulders, her spike-gloved hands coming up to heft those monstrous tits in a challenging display of their glorious abundance. Then she falls atop me, wrenching my head forward and burying my face in that fleshy embrace. Twisting her torso violently back and forth, she starts beating me, brutally bludgeoning me with that lush, firmly strapped and supported weight. Battered endlessly about, pitilessly pummeled by those swinging, slapping, heavily depending udders, I endure this heavenly assault meekly, knowing it’s only the beginning. Big Linda’s power over me is infinite, after all, and with its every expression her viciously sadistic compulsion to see me suffer only grows greater.

Exulting in my humble, servile demeanor, she flails away for what seems like forever, thoroughly thrashing me with those tremendous tits. Then she inevitably scrambles up my body and forces me to perform oral sex on her. Squashing her hot, juicy crotch in my reddened face, Big Mistress Linda will grab both fists full of my handy long locks and make me service her hungry cunt (or even her butt) for what seems like forever.

Pinned under her towering body, held motionless while she grinds her crotch against me and growls with pure animal pleasure, I’ll humbly lick and suck and tongue and nibble at the lovely folds and depthless holes of Big Linda’s exalted femininity until I’m gasping for breath and absolutely exhausted. Yet any brief let-up or faulty technique is swiftly punished, with a cuff to the head, a yank on my hair, or with cruel, hard twists and jerks on my own vulnerable sex organs. Eventually she’s reduced to actually humping my increasingly raw face; burying it in her crotch, engulfing my fully extended tongue and vigorously fucking it like a dick. Yet even when she’s finally had enough of this, when she finally grunts her temporary satisfaction and rudely pushes me away, it hardly even seems a respite.

She’ll straightaway turn to my perpetually hard cock, giving it such an endless, tireless work-out that it will ache for literally days afterward. Frankly I don’t even know how she does it. For hours it’s just fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Always devising newer motions and rhythms and points of balance, Big Mistress Linda grips me with her exquisitely trained vagina or her incredibly muscular asshole and works herself on me like I’m some kind of inanimate, unbreakable exercise machine. Glaring down, with those hulking shoulders squared and that dangerous chest thrust challengingly out, she rides my helplessly straddled body furiously, panting and cursing and screaming at me in ceaseless demand.

Fortunately it’s a demand I’m usually able to meet. Thanks to the single most beneficial effect of my disability, my perpetual hard-on is an aching constant. As long and hard as Big Linda keeps it up, as violently as she humps and pumps and lunges and plunges atop me, I still generally remain completely and respectfully erect. Good thing, too. After this long, I know better than to dare to lose control.

She’s always got a suitable punishment waiting, always got a worse way to dominate and subjugate and humiliate my captive manhood. You know what I’m talking about. At least several times a night now Big Linda gloatingly turns the proverbial tables on me. Strapping on a long, hard rubber dildo, she beats me down and brutally fucks me right up the ass. And yet still, as I can’t deny no matter how hard I try, even this ultimate, intimate, most exquisitely shameful invasion of my body somehow manages to arouse me. Regardless of my incontrovertibly certain heterosexuality, regardless of the dire, maybe even fatal insult to my manhood – regardless of even what it may say about me deep down inside where I’d rather not look – I’ve somehow found that even submitting to involuntary sodomy has its unnatural appeal.

Even as Big Linda positions a pile of pillows and rolls me onto it, cuffing my hands behind my back and wrenching apart my helpless legs; even as she spreads my cheeks wide and forces open my tender, once-virgin butt-hole, I invariably find myself wanting it, needing it. By now this big bad bitch has ground me so deeply into submission that even being anally raped with a strap-on dildo by her has become an ordeal of sick, masochistic pleasure.

With my burning face and inevitably erect cock mashed into the pillows, feeling the cool night air caressing my vulnerably up-thrust ass, I desperately relish my coming subversion. My hungry little fuck-hole seems to gape with need, drinking up the little lubrication my mistress affords me, and I moan with eager anticipation as she works it in. Then at last Big Linda Skrue mounts me, sliding her hard rubber cock smoothly, deeply up into my final privacy.

Ah, what heaven! Even now writing about it I want it. Her powerful hips swiftly build up a relentlessly pneumatic rhythm and my complete physical and interpersonal prostration stirs awake those strange, deeply rooted needs and hungers I’d rather not acknowledge. Cruelly subjugated and then forcibly raped by this enormous-breasted demon, my darkest dreams of dominance and control come brilliantly to life. Handcuffed and spraddled, hard as a rock and horny as a goat, I bow up my back, eagerly welcoming Big Bad Linda’s violent invasion. Moaning and groaning in unconcealed ecstasy, wallowing in a taboo pleasure that would earn me the scorn of almost everyone I know I can only lie there gasping with bliss and marveling at the extent of my incredible transformation.

This is what I live for now. There’s absolutely no question. This is my whole reason for being. Each painful, spearing thrust of Big Linda’s hard, thick, heavy black cock forces me deeper into an acceptance of my permanent new role: a helpless little slut-boy, condemned to suffer for the vile sins of the entire male sex.

After all, it’s only what I deserve for harboring such sick, twisted desires in the pit of my fucked-up soul. Speaking of which, trapped between the soft pillows piled beneath me and my rudely ridden hips, my painfully hard, long-suffering cock throbs ever more powerfully, betraying the desperate urgency of my perverse, overweening lust for emasculation. And still it gets harder, hotter, as Big Linda Skrue starts goading me on, forcing me as ever to acknowledge the incredible extent of my ridiculously degrading circumstances. Slapping my ass contemptuously, she slams her cock into me ever more forcefully, shrieking all the while.

“Take it, you fucking pig! Take it all! Take it like you deserve! You SLUT! You SLAVE! You LITTLE BITCH-PIG-CUNT-HOLE-STRUMPET-SLUT-WHORE! You live for this! You and every other repulsive male! Admit it! Admit your guilty pleasure! Admit your disgusting needs! You sick, despicable pervert! You want my big cock! You need it! Don’t you! You need to pay for having that vile little penis, and this is how! Admit it, Slut-boy!”

Big Linda Skrue hammers herself into me, so forcefully that the headboard slams the wall, burying the entire length of her nine-inch erection deep in my receptive anus. Then she begins rotating her hips, grinding that impaling spike around and around and around, piercing my body to the core and demanding that I beg her for the shameful, exquisite pleasure. And of course by now I waste no time in complying. Soon I’m yelping and wailing and crying out miserably into the pillow, willingly debasing myself beyond belief.

“Give it to me, Mistress! Give me your gigantic cock! Give it to me, give it to me; give it to me please! FUCK ME Big Bad Linda! Fuck me hard, hard, HARDER! I need it! I do! I’m a sick, despicable little Slut-boy! I need your rock-hard erection; I need your big bad penis! Fuck me with it, fuck me with it, fuck me with your big cock HARD!”

Naturally Big Linda obliges, first pulling almost all the way out of me and then savagely plunging it back in, piercing me with such a deep, brutally sudden thrust that I shrilly squeal out like a proverbial little piglet stuck on a skewer. Then she picks up where she so recently left off, hammering her stiff rubber prick cruelly, remorselessly, endlessly down into my upraised, openly dilated asshole.

Good lord. Panting and screaming and cussing me out, Big Mistress Linda viciously takes every last vestige of my former virtue, and as ever, the sound of her savage exultation deliciously accentuates my own shamefully burning excitement. Finally, as her pounding thrusts at last climax in a brutally spearing frenzy, my desperately hot, humiliating arousal suddenly finds an illicit outlet at last. What almost no amount of conventional intercourse can instigate, these days being brutally buggered almost inevitably does.

Goaded on by the brisk, rhythmic friction between the soft pillows piled under me and my roughly, rudely ridden body, my pounding, straining, rock-hard cock-head finally forgets everything I’ve had to painfully learn about restraint. Tingling, burning with an insane sensory fire, it slips back and forth and back and forth against the satiny slope below me until it finally ejaculates explosively in mind-blowing, ball-draining release.

Spilling my stupid seed I cry out wretchedly, helplessly, listening to Big Bad Linda shriek with fury. Pumping my filthy hot come everywhere, soiling the silken pillows with my shameful crime, I know all the while what surely comes next.

It’s the whip, of course, for wasting a precious load of come without my mistress’ expressed permission. Yet by now I can hardly regret that transgression. After such a deeply demeaning, emotionally exhausting ordeal, even that kind of strict, corporal punishment has its rewards. Lying there, choking on a ball gag, twisting and writhing under the stinging, slashing strokes of Big Mistress Linda’s heaviest whip, feeling my skin welt up and even break open in places, I let the intense agony sear the humiliating experiences of the last several hours deep into my being. After the extreme way I regularly debase myself, there’s some perverse part of me that actually needs this pain, craves it, and as she vengefully flails away at me my naked and extravagantly suffering body eventually begins to respond. Soon my spent, wasted little cock begins twitching, then bobbing and growing, and then finally it once again juts proudly into the air, as hard and tall and rigidly erect as a standing stone.

Once again I’m ready for Big Linda Skrue:; ready for her to use and abuse me, to rape and fuck me, to take my pathetic, worthless male body and have her savage way with it. And of course she always does. That’s what Big Linda’s visits are all about.

Linda’s Interlude: Predator and Prey

It’s funny how things work out. Ever since gaining control of my own private sexual pet, some strange, unexpected changes have begun to come over me, changes I could once have only dreamed of. My name is now ‘Big’ Linda Skrue, and I’ve been living up to it with a vengeance. As a bisexual female loner, I’ve recently developed an extremely healthy – for me at least – sex drive. But unfortunately I’m now having some trouble fulfilling those voracious needs.

This probably seems strange to those millions of people who just dream of meeting a spectacularly attractive woman like me. But I’ve got a rather unique situation. Thanks to the creature I like to call ‘Slut-boy’ I now need to totally dominate and even terrorize my partner during sex. Not many people will willingly choose to go along with that. Lately I’ve been forced to hunt around for weaker individuals, cutting out from the great herd of people those either unable or unwilling to resist my rather vicious sexual attacks. I suppose if I was a man I’d be locked away in prison, and rightly so. But the bed is the one place a woman can still get away with a little dominance.

Of course, that’s the trouble. I’m not interested in just a little dominance.

I now need to make a guy suffer extravagantly, make him grovel and weep and beg for the incredibly humiliating abuse I heap on him. Like I said before, I’ve got control of this cripple, my own private little sex-toy, and all the outrageous things I’ve been doing to him recently have totally spoiled my taste for normal, consensual sex. The thrill of domination is just too exhilarating. By now I’ve got my little pet Slut-boy so fucked-up and twisted around by the perverse ways I use him that he doesn’t even know whether he’s coming or going.

I constantly, mercilessly subjugate him; bursting into his house, tying him tightly to his bed and tormenting him sexually for hours. Over and over again I strap on one of my big hard cocks and make him play the female part. And even though he’s utterly consumed by pain, shame and embarrassment, even though he knows it means a merciless whipping, the little pig comes his brains out every fucking time!

I swear I can’t believe I found him. What a perfectly filthy little pervert. Any other man on the planet would run horrified to the cops after some of the things I’ve been doing to him. Yet he just moans and groans and begs and whimpers for me to do more. I’m starting to wonder just how far I can really go in taking him over. Already I’ve been systematically re-making his entire personality. Who knows what kind of crazy, kinky thing I can eventually change him into?

Yet still, even as much fun as using this guy is, I’ve never quite lost my taste for the other flavor. You know what I’m talking about. I also really like to fuck a girl once in a while, especially one who’s tender and young and never before been had by any woman.

Now, after repeatedly raping Slut-boy so hard and so many times, I really get off on playing the butch – finding some sweet, innocent little thing and really putting it to her. I’d be perfectly at home starring in one of those “naked women locked in prison” movies, but things aren’t quite so easy in the real world. Instead I’m forced to prowl the college bars, looking for a pretty, sheltered young woman with long-repressed, socially or religiously forbidden longings that I can exploit.

It doesn’t take long. With my statuesque, muscular, six-foot one-inch body I stand out in any crowd. And of course my enormous bosom draws disbelieving stares from men and women alike. Men are invariably covetous – at least until I get them home – and I’ve learned to tell envy from admiration in women. Now it’s the guilty, darting, sidelong glances in the eighteen-year-old, just-away-from-home, had-a-little-too-much-to-drink freshman girls that I look for.

I’ll walk right up to some shy, vulnerable-looking thing, and soon my sheer sexual magnetism will captivate her. I go out wearing a brazenly skimpy outfit, with high boots and a lot of leather, and the exposure of my gratuitously womanly breasts generally offsets my rather intimidating size and appearance. After a few drinks and a little well-practiced seduction my intended prey usually wobbles off her chair or stool and agrees to come home with me.

Of course, once I get her home and get one of my “special” drinks into her, she’s as good as lost. Before long her animated, almost bubbly conversation gets increasingly disjointed and rambling, and her eyes slide lower and lower and move lazier and lazier around in her head. Just before she loses the ability to walk entirely, I help her up and lead her into my newly furnished domination room. There I force her directly onto the giant four-poster bed, and any hope of her escape swiftly disappears. She lies there in a barely comprehending daze, mutely watching as I strip down to my tight leather harness and boots, and she offers only token resistance as I rip off her clothes. Nearly panting with lust then I ravish her, climbing all over her nubile young body, roughly kissing and fondling and probing at every innocent inch of her.

Sometimes she’ll cry out, or struggle a little bit, but my sure, confident strength always prevails over her sludgy drunkenness. And soon enough she starts to respond, accepting my expert touch, moaning at my licking, sucking mouth and educated fingers and finally groping for my heavy breasts. Then I know I’ve got her, and the evening’s fun can begin.

I go to work in earnest on her, using every weapon in my arsenal, beginning with the most insidious: tenderness. I slowly, gently caress and massage and oil her entire teen-age treasure: that gloriously smooth, springy, resilient young flesh. Soft, breathtakingly beautiful skin and firm taut muscle are treated to a tune-up they rarely receive outside of a massage parlor, and as my little honey’s hazy reverie deepens I prepare to finally finish up by carefully trimming away the untidy little bush growing at her groin.

I brush off the clippings and then continue, gently oiling and massaging and then lathering up the stubble. By this time my adolescent prey is usually so lost in the bliss of her rubdown that she hardly notices me subtly preparing to shave away her modesty. And indeed my touch is so sure and skilled, and the silver crescent of my razor so sharp and keen, that it hardly tugs at her as I smoothly, effortlessly strip away the last bit of hair. After that comes a creamy lotion, more rubbing and massaging. Then my caresses slip lower, and become gradually more fervent, until she slickens right up and her moans betray her. Finally, once I’ve thoroughly prepared her for me, I strap on one of my hard rubber cocks and take her. And oh, mama, that’s where the fun really begins! As dazed, drunk, or even reluctantly, dizzily aroused as my prey might be, that sudden hard thrust of a manly erection never fails to bring a shrieking response.

She may only stir and moan, or shudder uneasily when I spread her open and move between her legs. But when my formerly gently caressing tongue is suddenly replaced by a wickedly stabbing prick she always screams and thrashes, frantically if ineffectually bucking under my weight and fighting my invasion. Still I hold her down and fuck her, punching my nine-inch cock deep up into her tight, virginal little body like no man ever could. Looming over her like a goddess-colossus, pinning her to the bed, I take my nascent little lesbian and subdue her feeble struggles with the sheer force of my unstoppable assault.

Like I said at the beginning, she really has no chance. I’m just too big, too strong, too deeply imbedded in her closely-shaven, unprotected pussy. Over and over again, I slam down into her, relentless, grunting and snarling in animal savagery, and soon she reaches whatever accommodation she can with my ravenous onslaught.

Sometimes she lapses disappointingly away into a drugged stupor, and sometimes she fights excitingly against me, requiring an exhilarating struggle before I finally have my way. But usually she finally surrenders the last of her inhibitions and joins in the fun, moaning and flexing and writhing breathlessly beneath me.

Then I know for sure that she’s really mine, and I can enjoy spending the rest of the night (and one of these times, just maybe the rest of her life) teaching her all of the wonderful things a motivated woman like me can do for her.

That’s an education I relish, of course, no matter who I’m delivering it to. Yet lately it’s one I’ve been finding just little bit disappointing. Something necessary just seems to be missing from these encounters. I don’t know what it is. I guess maybe that as much as I love to “turn” one of my girls, the fact remains that it’s the men out there who really deserve such treatment. That one disabled man in particular.

So that fucking little Slut-Boy just better be ready. I think I’ve finally decided on the ultimate nature of his conversion.

Visit Five: You Are What You Eat

About a month and a half after assuming ownership of me Big Linda Skrue changed her tactics. Forgoing her usual dramatic crashing entrance she slipped silently into my room one night. The first thing I knew of her presence was the sudden muted glare of the bedside lamp.

Protesting I squinted my eyes. But as they adjusted they once again sprang wide in shocked recognition. In contrast my impudent mouth snapped immediately shut. The soft yellow light traced a glimmer of rings and studs and stainless steel spikes off a neck collar, wrist cuffs, and a black leather harness.

That was an outfit I’d recognize anywhere of course, and for more than its tight-fitting array of straps and buckles or the way it cradled such gigantic breasts. No, that particular harness – my former personal care aide and now omnipotent Mistress Big Linda Skrue’s harness – sported more than just spikes and studs and strategically placed steel rings. Already jutting from the armored mound of her pubis was the increasing focus of our mutual obsession: hers to dominate and subjugate, mine to meekly submit.

A black rubber dildo, long and thick and elaborately ridged, curved jauntily up and out from its mounting stud just above Big Linda’s crotch. I knew from extensive experience exactly what she planned to do with this. Addicted to domination and not content to defile just virginal young lesbians, Big Linda Skrue preferred to use her cock on men: forcing us to confront our feminine sides even as she fervently embraced her own latent masculinity. Our history together and the almost total helplessness of my paralysis made me an ideal candidate for such brutal attentions, and so an agonizing, humiliating rape was a certainty. The only question was how far Big Linda meant to go in my ongoing subversion. Once, threatening to make me into a girlie-girl, she almost cut off my cock and balls!

This time there was no knife, but that didn’t reassure me. I cringed as Big Linda sprang deliberately onto the bed, grinning wickedly. Squirming away in pathetically futile retreat, I shrank back until my head and shoulders begin to climb the headboard.

Immediately she was upon me, and without a word started positioning me, propping up my crippled hips with a couple of pillows, raising my knees and spreading my useless legs as wide as possible. Fumbling at her waist, Big Linda produced two matching sets of shiny steel shackles. Lifting my feet high above my head she cuffed each ankle to its corresponding wrist and looped the connecting chains over the bedposts. This stretched my arms up and out, securing my legs spread high and wide above me. Meanwhile the taut chains drew my ass up, raising my hips to present my vulnerable butt-hole. Whimpering with both fear and need I hung there, doubled over in my bonds like some bizarre crucifixion.

Uncomfortably contorted, split open wide and practically rolled into a ball against the unyielding headboard, I strained against the chains, flexing my arms. But with my cuffed hands connected directly to my feet, that stupid maneuver only succeeded in lifting and spreading my legs even further. Meanwhile the pressure of the headboard craned my neck sharply forward, holding my head rigidly up and forcing my face deep into my splayed-out, inverted crotch. That brought me eye to eye with the rapidly swelling length of my uncontrollable cock.

Catching sight of this swiftly growing erection after she finished locking me in place Big Linda Skrue seized it, pumping on it and taunting me with the obvious fact of my arousal.

That’s the way she always was, determined to make me admit, comply; acknowledge the thralldom of my helpless desires. And despite my incredibly humiliating circumstances, despite the brutal indignities that were surely in store, the goad of her derision sparked the usual perverse compulsions deep inside me. Soon my traitor prick pointed stiffly at attention, the fat purple cap only inches from my captive face. Satisfied Big Linda released it. Then she crouched spread-legged above me, masturbating. After slickening her first two fingers in her plentiful juices she gave an eager growl of anticipation and moved into place.

Chained out open I could only hang there and watch as she positioned herself, kneeling before my vulnerable hole and then sliding those long, lubricated digits deep inside. Twisting and probing, spreading them apart, she coaxed me open and then guided her big cock in.

Thrusting sharply forward she skewered me as pitilessly as always. And as always I cried out helplessly, a weird bleat of mingled pain and pleasure. Once again Big Linda Skrue’s thick black cock was stabbing me, penetrating my body’s most private center in a way that only women should have to endure. And in spite of my pain, in spite of my humiliation, this time I recognized my usual blackly excited response as one of unconscious sympathy and even envy.

This is how it feels to be a woman, I thought; a weak, helpless little subject forcibly entered; taken and subdued and suddenly filled by the invading salient of her occupier’s need. Doubled over in my bonds, the breathless, demanding urgency of that need was shortly being rammed right into me more intimately than ever, right in my face this time, inches away, over and over again. And from deep inside my formerly secretive soul, that shamefully eager something suddenly leaped up in all its long-denied reality.

Whether psychological aberration, ancient genetic ghost, or merely the overmastering requirement of my soul-owner, my omnipotent mistress had finally succeeded in putting me in touch with the truth behind my shameful acquiescence. For the sake of what remained of my original self-image, I chose to accept the last explanation: that now and forever whatever my mistress required of me, I had no choice but to be. All along the dominant, overwhelming femininity of Big Linda Skrue had been forcibly eclipsing me, demanding conformity, demanding that I become the virginal young lesbian she truly lusted for. And despite an unquestioned lifetime of heterosexual masculinity, I at long last accepted the situation with conscious awareness and slipped willingly into the persona required of me.

I closed my eyes, and within seconds my gaping anus became a hungry cunt. My flat breasts swelled outward, and my nipples hardened and ached with arousal, begging to be kneaded and suckled. I imagined myself suddenly fertile, and Big Linda’s manly fuck-organ shooting burning spurts of life up into me. Suddenly yearning for the exquisite hurt of my absolutely appropriate penetration I strained at the chains, flexing my biceps and spreading myself even wider, drawing up my shackled ankles and raising my hips ever higher to meet each of those wonderfully savage, incredibly fulfilling thrusts. And obligingly my masterful Big Linda pounded forcefully away: jack-hammering into me like the rampaging stud that she was.

“Oooooooh, thank you!” I began moaning, whimpering, even yelping out with high-pitched pleasure, and the harder my owner used me the wider I stretched, ecstatically welcoming each potent stroke of that bull-dyke lesbian onslaught. But then suddenly my overdue education in the joys and duties of womanhood began in earnest, when something both hard and hot and yet velvety soft nudged up against my lips.

Startled, I opened my eyes, and was immediately confronted by a close-up view of the bobbing, straining, thickly swollen cock I’d almost forgotten I had. Wrapped in angry red veins, that achingly erect penis pointed directly down at my mouth: an insistent accusation of perverted arousal. Staring breathlessly at that purplish pole I licked my lips almost unconsciously. Then I raised my gaze. Past Big Linda’s own plunging cock and pumping hips, past the jiggling weight of her gigantic breasts, I finally peered up into her sternly lovely, always unforgiving visage. I knew what she expected of me now, I actually wanted to do it, and I was not disappointed.

“Do it, Sissy-slut!” she shouted down at me. “That’s your new name and function! Tonight you become a she-male for me. So suck that cock like a good little Sissy-slut or I’ll whip you bloody and then jerk it off right into your stupid face! You know I will!”

And of course I did. By that point I knew better than to even dream of challenging the will of Big Linda Skrue. And why would I want to? If she decreed that I become a she-male for her, a she-male I would be. So I strained my arms even more, raising my hips that last necessary inch. Then without hesitation I took that throbbing, burning cock into my willing mouth.

Thanks to my agonizing compaction my lips reached it easily: slipping over the nerve-packed plum of the head to clamp down onto the pulsating shaft. Eagerly I obeyed the command in Mistress’ nod and glare and started swirling it with my tongue, exploring exciting new tastes and textures even as I wildly stimulated that bulbous head. Soon I was surprised and gratified to find it good from both sides, and I started attacking that tasty cock like a living lollipop. First I used my slippery lips and tongue to worry it relentlessly around. Then I plunged it deeper and started pulling enthusiastically with my cheeks, sucking and slurping and swallowing excess spit as I made wet, cock-sloppy love to myself like a championship dick-sucker.

Oh, my mistress, what on Earth was happening to me? Grunting and snorting, slavering involuntarily I suckled myself. My cheeks pursed rhythmically, tirelessly. As usual, those cheeks burned hot with shame, so flushed with blood that my scalp tingled as well, until finally I was actually dizzy, nearly swooning with the scandalously guilty ecstasy of it all.

Surely indulging in such a forbidden activity damned me forever as a man. Yet at the time I couldn’t care less. I had a hot, delectable mouthful of cock, and brimming with willingly accepted honorary femininity I couldn’t resist the incredible frisson of servicing a dangerously hard and horny penis with my most intimate orifice. After all, I’d never been fucked in the face before, and fucked I suddenly most definitely was. As I eagerly, enthusiastically suckled on cock Big Linda’s constant plunging anal rhythm continued to rock my body, nudging that fat purple cap deliciously in and out of my tightly pursed lips. Moaning with joy, I fell even more recklessly in love with this wonderful new pleasure with every passing stroke.

I couldn’t believe it! If only I’d been able to accept this before! Delighted with both my new awareness and identity I sucked harder, that hot cock throbbing in my mouth. Soon I could taste the sweet pre-come oozing from the tip. Of course I eagerly sucked it up, smacking and slurping and loving it, feeding like the sluttiest she-male ever on my very first oral ingestion. Surely my eyes gleamed with appreciation, even as the heat of my shame doubled in my cheeks and my head once again swam giddily with arousal. I don’t know if the signs of my gladly eating myself were apparent or what, but suddenly Big Linda snarled in vindication and dropped forward, catching the headboard in her hands and dangling her mammoth tits above me.

Stabbing her long, hard staff brutally up into me, she buried it to the hilt in and used it to lever my hips even higher in the air, further contorting my body and forcing that stiffly swollen cock at least halfway down my suddenly uncomfortably filled throat. Then she started slamming her body down, pounding into my upraised slut-cunt like a demon possessed.

Ah, goddess! Over and over again her erection bludgeoned into me in a relentlessly escalating assault. And every stabbing thrust pounded that tasty male member deeper down my eager gullet. Unbelievable! Two pricks fucked me in rhythmic unison, and between the hard one brutally reaming me out and the hot, throbbing one sliding through my thick-slippery lips, my jiggling balls began tingling wildly, warning of an upcoming uncontrollable orgasm.

Still I stretched myself wider, taking both cocks deeper, slobbering uncontrollably and gagging on all that hard hot meat. Still the guilty flush of my arousal shamed my skewered face, and with a big hard erection coring me out and the soft head of another one rubbing against the back of my throat I once again raised my eyes from the wildly flopping spectacle of Big Linda’s breasts to meet the fevered glare of her gaze. Exalted by the sight of me choking on man-meat – ample evidence of the success of her agenda – Big Linda’s sapphire eyes were ablaze with passion. And the always incredibly stimulating sight of her rampant transport finally set me off.

I stopped flexing and jerked back, collapsing in my bonds a bare fraction of a second before my spasming cock ejaculated. Held in place by the headboard, there was nowhere for me to turn in my anxious ecstasy but uselessly back and forth, waiting an eternity in that one split-second of delicious dread. And then of course the inevitable occurred. Purple-red and pulsing, trailing ropy wet strings of saliva and pre-come, my hugely distended prick began to pump hot wet splatters of semen directly into my helpless face.

Ahhh, goddess! Gobbet after hot, creamy gobbet spurted forcefully out of me, slapping against my lips and chin and cheeks, soaking me and filling my nostrils with the evocative odor of spunk. Gasping for breath in the sudden stench, I could even feel drops of it landing on my tongue, and I shuddered uncontrollably. My comprehensive degradation was mind-bogglingly extreme, and so of course my explosive orgasm never felt so fulfilling.

As thick clots of come leapt and splattered against my face, slowly dribbling and running down, Big Linda screamed in vindicated triumph, reveling in my incredibly rewarding transformation. Then with a snarl of savage exultation she grabbed my hair. Holding my head tightly she delivered a final succession of especially deep, painfully grinding thrusts: powerfully rotating penetrations that used my still half-hard, sticky-wet cock to smear that slimy ejaculate in and around and all over my hotly burning features. Then at last she pushed contemptuously away from me: sliding out of my terribly aching slut-cunt and climbing off the bed.

Leaving me chained there, my arms and legs spread high and wide above me and sticky, stinky sperm covering and dripping down my face, Big Linda Skrue sat down in my unoccupied wheelchair and lit up a cigarette.

Enjoying my abysmal condition she sat there and smoked, eyeing me smugly. But finally she finished, stubbing out the butt and returning to the bed. Leaving that thickly smeared semen to dry into a humiliating, incriminating glaze on my face she leaned over me and grabbed my flaccidly dangling penis. Briskly she began to flog it, methodically bringing it back to life. Thanks to my infinite devotion to and consuming desire for her (as well as the surpassingly exciting breakthrough she’d just achieved with me) this hardly took long at all. As soon as I was once again eye-to-eye with an eager erection then she pushed it back into my she-male mouth and re-positioned herself before what she now declared to be my sissy-pussy. Looking down her haughty nose at me, my Big Mistress Linda Skrue smiled cruel vindication.

“That was excellent, cocksucker. I like the way you look with a stinking load smeared all over your face. But Sissy-slut she-males like you need to eat that filthy come, so we’re going to do that again. And this time you’re going to swallow it. Every... last... drop!”

Visit Six: Double Trouble

Trembling with a heady mixture of fear and resolve, I opened the door and slipped into the house as quietly as possible. Then I paused, my heart pounding in the shadows.

My anxiety was intense, and with good reason. The house I’d just penetrated belonged to Big Linda Skrue, the incredible dominatrix who’d been so thoroughly subjugating, subverting, and even fundamentally converting me in ways I was no longer sure I could live with. Come to brave the lion in its den, my fear, determination and downright traitorous sexual arousal all warred within me and I paused a moment, searching for strength.

Ever since learning of my peculiar vulnerability Big Linda had made me her own private plaything, bursting into my home at all hours of the night and performing – or forcing me to perform – the most unspeakable sexual indignities. Her appetite for perversion, for subversion was insatiable, and her relentless brutal attentions had driven me to the edge of sanity and possibly beyond, putting even my innate masculinity into serious question. Comprehensively dominating me, using me in the most degrading manner imaginable, she’d recently forced me to undermine my essential sexuality in a way I later considered to be unendurable. After the previous week, and my descent into extended daily bouts of auto-fellatio I’d become so terrified of my ability to willingly subvert myself that I decided I had to find some way to reclaim even a shred of my former autonomy. And so I conceived a daring plan, a last-ditch effort to try to regain control of my increasingly costly sexual obsession before all became irretrievably lost.

I’d been waiting for days, enduring my mistress’ ever more perverted attentions, until at last she announced her intention to seek new game. So finally Saturday night found me out and about for once instead of waiting at home in bed for who knew what new sexual damnation to befall me. My motorized wheelchair is capable of performing marvels when the occasion demands it, and so am I. It was no trouble at all crossing the streets, and would be no trouble sneaking into Linda’s house for a change, reversing our usual dynamic. I could just picture myself, pulling silently up to her bed and bodily throwing myself down onto her sleeping form. Maybe that way I could prove I was not so timid and malleable after all.

Of course, a cripple getting one up on Big Linda Skrue, even with a surprise appearance, was so unlikely as to be laughable. Yet what choice did I have? To regain even an iota of my autonomy I simply had to find a way to assert myself. So despite my terror, despite the nearly unthinkable temerity of my rebellion, I gathered up my foolhardy courage and finally proceeded down the darkened hallway ahead of me.

The house was large and several times I almost quailed in my determination. But the thought of that pungent erection sliding rapidly back and forth between my lips before spurting hotly down my gagging throat steadied me, hardening my resolve. I was no cocksucking she-male Sissy-slut no matter what Mistress called me! At last I found what I was looking for.

From an open door in the hallway ahead a wedge of yellow light fell. Unfortunately I could also hear the unmistakable sounds of a violent sexual encounter. Apparently Big Linda was already occupied, probably with some virginal young thing coaxed home from a nearby bar.

Well, she said she was going hunting. I almost felt sorry for the poor girl, whoever she was. Bragging perhaps, Big Linda had told me about what happens to them.

Once lured into her control, such unwary innocents are usually first drugged and then quickly defiled, compelled to submit to whatever arcane perversity Big Linda’s runaway libido demands. She’d use them for hours, even days, sculpting their nubile young bodies with the hammer of her passion until they were a masterpiece of utterly abject willing submission. Eventually of course they’d become like me, completely enslaved by the power of her incredibly dominant, downright omnipotent femininity.

Well, my plans for a surprise rebellion were a shambles, and so I quietly drew back, preparing to flee. But then that ungovernable arousal and the lure of seeing Big Linda in action overcame my good sense, and I crept to the open door and peered in.

There at last was the reputed domination room, where Big Linda ravished her succulent prey, and I caught my breath in wonder. One whole wall was covered with ropes and chains and shackles, harnesses and straitjackets and other restraints like blindfolds and ball-gags, along with vibrators and dildos and penis rings, endless implements of punishment and everything else a sadistic dominatrix could need or desire. The other visible walls – and the ceiling too – were covered with mirrored tiles, reflecting the unbelievable action currently taking place on the huge, square, almost medieval-looking bed.

A petite young woman, slender and yet just curvaceous enough to be incredibly delectable, lay on her back with her thin yet perfectly contoured legs flung high and wide. Surely no more than eighteen, her sweet, shapely little face was the picture of violated innocence, looking scared and shocked and excited and outrageously, disbelievingly horny all at once. Yet infinitely more arousing than even this was her beautifully high, completely unselfconscious voice: clear and quavering as it cried out sharply in response to Big Linda’s thick black dick pounding so pneumatically down into her.

What an excellent reason to scream! Propped above her, my monstrous mistress was glaring demonically down, wielding her strapped-on cock like a runaway jackhammer: panting and snarling and viciously driving herself ever deeper into that tight, tender little teenaged body. Caught up in the spell of Big Linda’s mastery they were completely focused on each other, oblivious to my presence, and the incredible spectacle of their frenzied coupling quickly held me spellbound as well.

A gleaming sheen of sweat oiled their bodies and drops scattered everywhere as they fucked: flying from Big Linda’s lashing hair and wildly jiggling breasts. The girl below her screamed and thrashed as she regarded my mistress with a mixture of naked terror and helpless sexual possession I immediately recognized. To my surprise I suddenly found that my pants were around my knees and my raging hard-on free. As my tight fist enclosed it against my will a helpless groan escaped me. For the first time ever I felt the incredible secret thrill of the voyeur.

Hiding unobserved I was helpless to influence the incredibly erotic scene before me in any way. All I could do was take it in, and this sense of powerlessness was incredibly arousing. Wrapped in the familiar grip of my palm, the snake that turns to stone had hardened into granite, demanding my ceaseless flagellation. Helpless to stop myself I pleasured my manhood (yes, manhood, I was a MAN, not a she-male) in a gasping, private reverie. I watched, breathlessly jerking off, as Big Linda savagely fucked the lucky little sprite to an unbelievably powerful orgasm. Then at last she pulled out, kneeling over that moaning, whimpering girl and caressing herself: heavy tits, belly and then the protruding length of her long rubber cock. Watching this I finally managed to slow my own rhythm, backing off from the dangerous brink.

“Look what you did, Keri Colts!” Big Linda demanded. “Your sticky pussy juice is all over my beautiful cock! Get up here and lick it off, you slut! Keri! Suck my big black dick!”

Keri’s face blanched, and she squirmed for a minute in the shadow of her mistress.

“No please, B’Linda!” she finally pleaded, in a panting little whisper. Clearly reluctant, she offered Big Linda the only alternative she’d possibly accept. “No use it, use it. Take me the other way too! I know you want to!” And with that she rolled over, rising to her elbows and knees and lifting her beautiful little ass up high into the air.

Bumping back, she nudged that hungry hole against Big Linda’s cock, and for the first time ever I saw ‘B’Linda’ assent to a plea. She dropped her demand, and seizing Keri by the hips she brutally took her: lining herself up and then ramming her thick black dick deep into that proffered receptacle so suddenly and forcefully that lucky little Keri cried out piercingly in agony. Then Big Bad Linda reared back and started hammering away once again, fucking that tiny shapely behind with an effortlessly renewed vigor.

Oh Mistress, what a sight! Once again I picked up speed, matching the pace of the incredible activity before me.

The brutal lesbian sodomy on display was unbelievably arousing, irresistibly compelling. Partially hidden by the open door I watched it all, moaning, jerking; even squirming in my seat with frustrated sympathy. I knew all too well what this little Keri Colts was going through. Her barking cries of pain and pleasure found echoes in my memory, recalling my own incredibly humiliating yet irresistible response. Soon they had me gasping and groaning and burning with need as I tirelessly pumped on my throbbing cock.

This was clearly neither the time nor place to indulge such forbidden fantasies, when my entire rebellion was at stake, but once again I just couldn’t help myself. Every high-pitched cry of agonized acceptance made me envy Keri Colts even more, and despite my earlier resolve somewhere deep inside me I already desperately wished to take her place beneath the hammer of Big Linda’s manic passion. At last in tortured confusion I turned the only way I knew how to go, channeling my inner turmoil into incredible arousal and wringing my poor little pecker ‘til he burned and boiled and begged me to let him explode.

But then of course in my careless frenzy I forgot where I was, and a predictable, even inevitable disaster struck. I don’t know if I was making too much noise or what, but suddenly sweet little Keri Colts screamed, seeing me in the mirrors, and as our eyes met the humiliating shock of my discovery once again immediately shamed me into a disastrous orgasm.

Of course, Keri’s cry at once alerted B’Linda, and she whirled, her face hideously contorted with rage. She was across the room almost before my seed hit my lap, her massive tits and out-thrust hard member bobbing wildly as she lunged at me.

Grabbing me by the neck and prick, she dragged me across the room and just threw me onto the bed next to Keri, who at first cringed away in shock. Then she looked timidly up at our mutual mistress, biting her full lower lip in a fetchingly childish expression of uncertainty. There was no uncertainty to be found there however: only undiluted malevolence and triumphant glee.

“Look what we’ve got to play with!” B’Linda exulted. “A filthy, spying little she-male deliberately acting out of character! She deserves anything we can do to her! I’ll tell you what, little Keri Colts. We’ll have us a little seminar in the proper domination techniques right here. I’ll show you how a woman of power treats her Sissy-slut! You tie her up while I hold her, and then we’ll really get it on!”

As though she really needed to, Big Linda Skrue pinned me to the bed, grinning devilishly as she sat on my chest. In seconds the rest of my clothes were torn from my body, and my naked arms stretched out wide to the sides.

So much for turning the tables! Obeying Mistress unconditionally (something I’d obviously have to painfully re-learn), Keri Colts quickly chained me up, leaving me as utterly helpless as ever. Then I cringed in chagrin as B’Linda took a familiar long, heavy bullwhip down from its peg on the wall. One of her favorite weapons, I recognized this easily from a dozen earlier visits to my place. At least eight feet long from heavy leather butt to deadly lash, a sharp, shiny little star of steel twinkled at the tip.

“I think a little corporal punishment is in order!” B’Linda cried. “Unlawful entry, spying, behaving as a male, and worst of all a completely unauthorized orgasm! Those are all flogging offenses in my book – move away, Keri! First comes the whip-torture, to bring out the blood! Then I’ll show you how to really treat a guilty little Sissy-slut!” She stepped back from the bed, grinning down at me, then drew back her arm and with a sudden whistling slash ripped the metal-tipped lash viciously through the air and deep into my waiting flesh.

The pain was excruciating, and I screamed in unfeigned agony. But of course B’Linda merely laughed her eager pleasure at my pain and reloaded for another stroke, drawing back her whip and again cocking her strong, muscular arm.

Again the lash whistled and cracked, and again I screamed out my explosive, uncontainable pain. Then again, and again and again. Soon enough we were deep into the familiar rhythm, cock, slash, scream; cock, slash, scream. Relentlessly Big Linda Skrue whipped my helpless, guilty, terribly suffering body, her powerful arm lashing away, her humongous tits bouncing wildly about and that massive dildo jutting wickedly forward.

Unreal! Hopelessly I lay there, mindlessly enduring, jumping and writhing with every vicious stroke, and soon my torso and thighs were cut and striped everywhere with livid welts. And yet still something about the hot, stinging pain combined with the utter futility of my struggles brought me once again quickly erect. And every time an especially cunning lash of the whip caught the rigid length or the sensitive head of my hardened member, the immense flash of pain only turned me on even more. Soon my yelps and cries and screams of pain took on a weirdly erotic undertone, and my perverted arousal became evident to both women.

Keri Colts crouched nearby, avidly watching my punishment, her green eyes shining with excitement. Gooseflesh rashed out all over her tiny body, and huge, red-brown nipples stood stiffly out from her taut, conical little breasts. Her creamy skin was flushed with color, and her breath began gasping through sharp, slightly parted teeth. Strangely, inexplicably aroused by the lurid spectacle of my suffering, she spread apart those impossibly slender thighs and furtively eased a hand between them. But of course nothing escapes the watchful eye of Big Linda Skrue. The next whistling lash caught little Keri instead, cracking across her perfect ass and licking around the graceful curve of her shapely hip. Shrieking out in painful surprise, she cowered back.

“That’s what this worthless she-male is for!” B’Linda raged. “Use her!” So Keri Colts immediately sat on my waiting face. Stepping forward, she straddled my bound body and squatted atop me, burying me in her tiny crotch and settling her sweet little cunt firmly over my willing mouth. There she went to work, using me roughly, rubbing against my captive face and ordering me about, giggling with the thrill of her unexpected dominance.

Oh my goddesses! Trapped between her taut, Coltish thighs I serviced her both humbly and slavishly, still feeling the agonizing lash of the steel-tipped whip at unpredictable intervals. Finally, emboldened by her free hand, little Keri exclaimed suddenly.

“I want to suck on her worthless cock! Can’t I suck it? Please?” Again B’Linda assented, surprising us both, and ordering Keri to turn around she warned me not to stop servicing that sainted pussy and definitely not to dare ejaculate again. So Keri Colts spun around, shifting and writhing and finally re-settling herself atop my mouth. Then suddenly my raging hard-on was engulfed in wonderfully wet warmth, slipping at once down her open throat to the hairy root.

Jesus Christ! I almost creamed uncontrollably, and if I hadn’t already spewed out that unauthorized load I probably would have. Yet that first super slurp was just the appetizer to the meal. Keri’s obvious eating talents weren’t limited to the depth of her throat alone. She promptly showed that she knew what she was doing as expertly as anyone I’d ever encountered. Eagerly, enthusiastically she worked on me, her beautiful little head bobbing madly up and down. Grunting hungrily as she impaled herself, she gobbled my prick like the perfect pro, taking it deep as fast as she could and softly squeezing my tingling testicles at all the right times. So lost in ecstasy I could barely concentrate on returning the favor I moaned uncontrollably. Still, I remembered B’Linda’s warning, and so I continued to lick and suck and tongue and nibble at Keri’s slick little pussy for all I was worth. But then remembering Big Linda, I suddenly wondered. The slashing cut of the whip had ceased, and no new torment had taken its place. Surreptitiously I peered around the tight curve of Keri’s ass, and in the mirror I saw the mistress rocked back, masturbating with the handle of the bullwhip.

This was the pleasure she’d denied to Keri, and I was flabbergasted. Yet there she was, columnar legs splayed wide apart, slamming the heavy, leather-wrapped whip-butt relentlessly up into her gaping fuck-hole, panting and moaning and watching with approval as her new little treat so professionally fellated me.

And what a show it must have been. All I could see for myself was the back of her honey-colored head enthusiastically attacking my groin. But I didn’t need eyes to identify each incredible component of her inspired technique. My blown-away nerve-endings told it all.

Soft, wet, tightly clamped lips firmly gripped and slipped all up and down the burning length of my dick, sliding me in-out-in-out-in-out with a powerfully relentless suction. Briefly they caught on the velvety knob, twisting back and forth and pulling up hard against the upraised ridge, while all the while the busy little tongue danced aggressively around and around and effortlessly around the softly sensitive open little eyehole at the tingling tip.

My stars, the monster thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Suddenly, just before I thought he couldn’t last any longer, out he plopped with an audible pop, killing the deadly momentum. But then little Keri’s unbelievably educated mouth closed over my balls. Then as her teeth tugged and tugged and her mouth sucked and sucked and her surprisingly strong fingers tightened painfully on my shaft, her wet little thumb immediately took over, roughly worrying the leaky head of my rock-hard prick around and around in mind-bending circles.

Oh, MAN! Again I moaned uncontrollably, and although Keri Colts’ cunt muffled the sounds of my pleasure, both women immediately responded to it. Keri redoubled her efforts, again engulfing me to the root and bobbing on me briskly, simultaneously squeezing, rubbing, and roughly massaging my churning balls. And still all the while Big Mistress Linda avidly watched us: fucking herself with the knobby butt of the bullwhip to a savagely screaming climax. Then at last she returned to her feet. Stretching languorously, she made her way to the enormous bed and brusquely ordered Keri off my dick.

Obeying impeccably once again, little Keri immediately abandoned me, and as she sat up and renewed her grinding cunt-rhythm on my face, Mistress B’Linda propped up my hips, spread apart my helpless legs and forced her brutally familiar way up into me.

Once again I felt her stiff, resilient cock in my ass, the most fundamental violation a supposed male can possibly endure. Yet by this point it was so much more than merely familiar, and I felt the old hot flush of excitement overwhelm as she took me.

Finally, I was a she-male again! A malleable little Sissy-slut! How could I have possibly resisted this? Then, face to face with Keri on my face, Big Linda Skrue fucked me up my tight little sissy-pussy and ordered that sweet little girl to service her giant tits while I ate her out.

Again I looked up, and this time the view in the ceiling mirror was even more unbelievable: my own wide, disbelieving eyes peering over the double curve of Keri Colt’s tight little ass, past her tiny waist to where her long, honey-blonde hair cascaded over her lithesome back. Slender and small yet exquisitely curvaceous, she leaned forward, her full red lips sucking hungrily at one of Big Mistress Linda’s thick, stiffly swollen nipples. Her head seemed barely the size of that massive breast. Indeed she was dwarfed by her Amazon companion, who certainly dominates just about any tableau you’d care to conceive. This scene was no different. Powering the passionate motion of our energetic three-way coupling, the beautifully bunching buttocks of Big Linda Skrue pumped in and out and in and out with ceaseless abandon.

All right! Once again I was secretly watching sex, but this time I was right in the middle of the action. Groaning, I stretched open wider, wallowing in that familiar guilty shame at the eager way I responded to Big Linda’s violating penis. In fact, I could barely meet my own eyes as she thrust her manly way into me, yet I forced myself to do so, perversely maximizing my humiliation, shamelessly reveling in the kinkiest of pleasures. Meanwhile my own misbegotten organ throbbed with need, harder than steel. Still confronting myself in the mirror I deliberately ignored it, choosing instead leave off working on Keri Colt’s cunt in order to humbly service her sainted anus. Pushing and prodding and probing at her hole, I slavishly worked my worshipful tongue in and around that little brown pucker, deliberately abasing myself and watching in the mirror as a bright flush of shame flooded still more color into my cheeks.

Now this was indeed all the ecstasy I needed. How could I hope to deny it? Regardless of how I might wish it in more sober moments, my shameful, desperately perverted arousal was as compulsory as ever, the dirty little secret that trapped me forever in Big Linda’s Skrue’s thrall. Fervent wishes aside it had just been proved irrefutable that the deeper my personal abjection, the more intense my humiliation, the more hopelessly excited I would always get. With beautiful B’Linda brutally reaming me out and my tongue stuck deep in the tight hole of Keri Colts’ delicious young ass, I faced my shameless self in reflection and finally, fully acknowledged once and forever the overriding truth of my existence.

As a guilty little she-male Sissy-slut I existed only to be used: a paltry toy for the selfish pleasures of such domineering true females as the brutal goddesses towering above me. My brief rebellion was over, an appallingly misguided idiocy, and with the hard fact of B’Linda’s nine-inch cock hammering relentlessly into my blissfully accepting sissy-pussy, the harsh, humiliating reality of my position re-asserted itself irrevocably.

I was still biologically male, and thus by definition guilty of the most disgusting weaknesses and perversions. Therefore I must be made to pay. Ahead of me laid – and quite rightly – an intense, punishing sexual ordeal: a long, torturous orgy of endlessly demeaning permutations. And to prove my total soul-submission to the goddesses above, I had to not only accept every bit of my punishment both willingly and wholeheartedly, but I had to continue to embrace and lay claim to as many of the actions and trappings of sacred, superior femininity as I possibly could. All I needed then was a cock to suck…

Linda’s Interlude: Transformation Complete

Things are definitely looking up.

Not only did I just receive some fantastic news from overseas, I’ve just had the most exhilarating sexual experience of my life. Now normally I don’t go in for threesomes, or group sex of any kind – I like to be in total control of one meekly submissive partner and that’s it. But these were kind of special circumstances.

I’d recently heard from relatives of mine back in the ‘old country’ (quaint term, that) who called me with the most unbelievably glorious news. It seems our family, long stripped of power and prestige and crushed into hiding and flight by communist oppression, is now being restored to prominence. National and ethnic pride is stirring a great crusade over there, and the spoils of war are being used to finance our comeback. It seems our fortunes are being raised on both the blood of the infidels and the ashes of the abhorrent old socialist system. Whatever. Politics aside, what it means is no more working for a living, no more limited means. I’ll soon enjoy all the privileges and possibilities of ex-patriot royalty. Finally! I suppose it’s my impatience for power and dissatisfaction with living modestly that’s been fueling my amazing sex drive lately, but that didn’t stop me from celebrating the wonderful news in the way I’ve come to love the most.

I immediately went on a shopping spree: stocking my domination room with some much needed hardware and preparing some special surprises for guests. Then I went out hunting. Little did I know the most important element of my incredible evening would come looking for me.

Before long I’d picked up this shy, sweet, deliciously leggy and petite young woman rather enticingly named Keri Colts, and brought her back to my place. I was, in my usual inimitable fashion, introducing her to the pleasures of violent lesbian sex when she suddenly screamed.

Now that wasn’t so unusual – she’d been screaming more or less since I first stuck her with my big rubber prick. But this was a scream of surprise, not of desperate, terrified arousal, and so I spun around. There, peeking into the room and watching us fuck was Sissy-slut, whom I’d been brutally using and subjugating for months, and had just successfully converted into a cocksucking, simpering little she-male – or so I’d sincerely believed. I couldn’t believe she’d actually snuck into my house.

The way I’d been freely using Sissy-slut here for my every twisted pleasure I’d thought her totally cowed, terrified of me but unable to resist my omnipotent sexuality. Yet there she was, daring to seek me out, daring to spy on me. And what’s more, her pants were around her knees and her dick was in her hand. Even as I suddenly caught her sitting there spying on us and jerking herself she came uncontrollably, spewing her filthy seed out all over herself.

Of course, there was no way in hell I could let her get away with that, and so I leaped up, my huge tits bouncing, and raced across the room. Paralyzed with more than just shock and fear, Sissy-slut watched me come, her eyes cringing from my enraged face to my heavily bobbing breasts to the long rubber dildo fastened at my crotch.

Immediately I grabbed her by her once-broken neck and her deflating prick, dragged her across the room and just flung her onto the bed next to Keri. There we chained her out naked and quickly began devising fit punishment for her sins.

First I thoroughly whipped her, lashing angry red stripes onto her helpless flesh for nearly half an hour, until she finally regained her erection. Then we literally attacked her sexually. After a bit of foreplay, Keri sat on her face, grinding her pussy down into it and forcing her to service her, while I moved in and spread apart her legs.

It was high time Sissy-slut learned to properly accept and appreciate her new status and position as a lifelong she-male. If I had to fuck her a million times to cement the lesson then that’s what I would do. So for perhaps the six-hundredth time so far I pried her open up and righteously fucked her, sliding my hard rubber cock deep up into her sissy-pussy, ignoring her squeal of pain and making her take it like the woman I’d determined she would aspire be. Then, pumping up into her chained and straddled body, I faced little Keri over her worthless swollen man-cock and ordered her to service my giant breasts.

She cupped one, needing both hands to do it, and started sucking at the nipple. Naturally I have huge pink tips atop my generous breasts, but Keri Colts took that big stiff arrowhead deep into her mouth, sucking it so hard I thought it was going to come off. She moaned fetchingly as she did so, rubbing her cunt in our little she-male’s face, but with her wet pussy smothering her and my big cock piercing her sissy-pussy, her own ridiculously silly prick just kept getting bigger and harder and redder.

That pissed me off mightily. I might have to do something about that – exactly what I’d almost done before. In the meantime however I decided on an intermediate measure to better impress her new sex on her. After I spent a good half hour fucking her to my next round of excellent orgasms I pulled out, and ordered Keri to climb off her face. As Sissy-slut lay there panting and groveling beneath us I told my hot new lesbian lover exactly what I had in mind. She thought the idea was brilliant of course – she’d have thought so about anything I suggested, or been sorry she didn’t. So while I went to pick out some frilly, lacy lingerie, Keri went to work making up Sissy-slut’s face.

She painted her up like the whore that she was, heavily rouging her cheeks and applying eye shadow, mascara and bright red lipstick. Pink press-on nails came next, as well as false eyelashes. Meanwhile I dressed her appropriately, putting on white net stockings and garters, a white silk teddy, finally pulling a pair of sheer silk panties tightly up and over her hugely straining erection.

Amazingly she didn’t struggle at this, or even try pleading with us. And with every step of her transformation her dick just throbbed harder and harder against those confining panties, and her breath came in quick, excited little gasps. I must have been doing better at ‘turning’ her than I thought, or even her recent greedily gobbling displays of cocksucking had suggested.

More enthused by the moment I put the tightest, laciest bra I could find on her, one I’d saved as a souvenir from a particularly well-endowed and memorable conquest. With sadistic invention then Keri filled a couple of left over party balloons with warm water and crammed these inside the double-D cups for tits. Then we braided her long brown hair into girly little pigtails, jammed shiny pink pumps on her feet and literally drenched her with cheap perfume. At last we had our slutty little she-male looking the part. It was time for the indoctrination to resume. First I had to help little Keri sort through my extensive collection of cocks and strap on the biggest, scariest-looking one I had. Then together we just fell on our pretty little she-male.

Positioning Sissy-slut face-down on the bed, little Keri had the honor of starting us out by sticking her huge cock in her mouth, making her lick and suck and slurp on it, until her pretty red lipstick was all smeared. Then she forced it in deeper, grabbing the silly little she-male by the pigtails, yanking back her head and just thrusting that prodigious penis right down her throat.

Great goddess! For a moment I just stood there, entranced. I could hardly believe my eyes. Whatever happened to the shy, meekly submissive little treat I’d been enjoying? Having this guilty she-male to torment seemed to have brought out some evil, hidden monster in this Keri. As I’d indicated, she wasn’t satisfied until she’d chosen the biggest, hardest dildo I owned: a massive, twelve-by-two inch cock-club made of antique Japanese ivory.

An incredibly valuable relic of the imperial past, that monster, rock-hard phallus was curved like a cylindrical samurai and would’ve gagged any professional sword-swallower. Yet innocent little Keri wielded it savagely, exuberantly, as if she’d been waiting all her life to grow such a formidable member. And I do mean formidable. Huge and hard and yet eerily life-like, securely mounted in an adjustable leather crotch-harness, that giant ivory cock stuck out from Keri’s slender, willowy young body like a truncated tree limb. Nevertheless she forced it on Sissy-slut, and somehow our little she-male managed to accommodate it, her shiny red lips stretching wide around the shaft as Keri gigglingly crammed it into her helpless mouth.

Sweet mother above, this was great! Yet tender little Keri wasn’t content to just violate our slave. Somehow she also instinctively knew the worst possible way to rub it in.

“Look at her, B’Linda!” she shrieked down into that urgently suckling face. “What a faggy little Sissy-slut! I think she likes sucking cock! I think she loves it! Don’t you, Cocksucker? Don’t you?” She ground her hips and pulled on Sissy-slut’s pigtails, making her nod up and down, roughly swiveling her head around her throatful of hard ivory boner.

“Of course she does!” I emphatically declared. “I taught her how to eat man-meat myself all of this week! You should have seen it! The fucking piggy little Sissy-slut came right in her own mouth at least a dozen times! And after she swallowed it all down and sucked herself dry she told me how wonderful it was! How she always wanted more, and how she wished I could spew all over her worthless face and down her throat! Are you kidding me? She sucks cock like a world-class whore!”

Sissy-slut eagerly keened acknowledgement of these revelations, and didn’t back off in the least on delivering her involuntary blow-job – not that Keri Colts gave her any chance to.

“She what? She came in her own mouth? She swallowed it all? She liked it?! What a disgusting she-male slut!” Gleefully she raged at Sissy-slut, exuberantly skewering her prettily made-up face. “COCKSUCKER!! You like to sucking cock huh? You like it that much? Well take it then, Sissy-slut! Take it ALL! Take EVERY FUCKING INCH!”

Proudly erect, her huge, thimble-shaped nipples stood sharply out from Keri’s firm little breasts, betraying the escalating level of her excitement. Still they grew harder, darker, and ever more prominent as she continued to thrust herself in, deeper and deeper, using the prettily-ribboned pigtails of Sissy-slut’s hair to stretch her head as far back as possible and open her helpless throat completely. Then cruelly, methodically she fucked her way in, using all twelve inches of it, gagging the little she-male mercilessly and laughing with sadistic derision at the helpless retching sounds she made.

Now that’s what I call punishment! Little Keri Colts certainly seemed to be getting the hang of this female domination thing. I had no idea where such instinctive passions came from, but she was definitely a girl after my own heart.

Not to be outdone, I moved around behind Sissy-slut myself and once again began assaulting her always-hungry sissy-pussy. Yanking aside her panties, I forced apart her cheeks and just hammered my favorite long, thick, heavy black strap-on deep up into her openly gaping hole. Then together and in rhythm we pounded viciously into her, impaling her from both ends, kneeling face-to-face and watching each others’ breasts bounce as we fucked, making her grunt and groan and gasp and retch and whimper like a baby around the giant cock filling her throat.

Ah, what outrageous fun! Like a pair of vengeful goddesses we showed Sissy-slut what it really means to be a she-male, in brutally intimate terms. Finally that shy, sweet little girl Keri Colts was so turned on and excited by her obvious joyful pain, so flushed and exhilarated and exalted by the stunning spectacle of Sissy-slut’s extreme (yet utterly willing) humiliation, that I had to call a temporary halt to the festivities so that I could fuck some sense into her. But then, after I bent Keri over and pounded her to several unbelievably intense orgasms, I finally had her ready to dish it out again. Then the spying little she-male’s just punishment and ineradicable indoctrination resumed.

Fully in command, we released her from her bonds, and for a while there we amused ourselves by making Sissy-slut pose before us in her high heels and her tits and her lingerie, making her meticulously examine every minute detail of her degrading transformation in the three surrounding mirrors. Soon we had her practicing all kinds of feminine traits, making her bat her eyes and caress herself, making her primp and preen and comport around, and even finger-fuck her dirty little sissy-pussy. We forced her to sit there and perform her ridiculously ornamented body before us (and the mirrors, and what was behind them) like a 10-cent hooker, and soon her red-hot face was so flushed with arousal and shame that it was obvious even through the thick layer of make-up she wore. Nor was that all. Sissy-slut’s unforgivably incongruous penis once again tented out her panties like an eight-inch lodge-pole. Pulsating in its confinement, it left a growing, transparent spot of wetness where the leaking tip rubbed constantly back and forth against that thin tight silk.

Perfect! It was obvious she’d finally accepted and internalized her new self to the point that she found being a shameless she-male madly arousing. Mission accomplished! So then of course we really put it to her, chaining her back up and taking her roughly, urgently, for hours on end, swapping turns and holes and dildos and positions in endless combination. Together we fucked her absolutely upside-down and inside-out, eradicating for good an entire mistaken lifetime of uncouth masculinity in one incredibly intense night of nonstop double-fucking. Finally we had Sissy-slut so cored out open that I was at last able to drill that big, thick 12-inch Japanese monster-cock all the way up into her tender abused sissy-pussy with every last bit of my considerable power.

My goddess, I can still hardly believe that thing even fit. That gigantic ivory prick is so huge and hard and unyielding that indeed I’d never dared use it before, not even on my own incredibly rapacious cunt. Besides being both outrageously thick and long, the heavy, rock-hard shaft of it ends in a bulbous, life-like head the size of a small fist.

Such a dangerous combination of shape, size and uncompromising hardness must be devastatingly punishing. Yet after a few months of regular violent, increasingly vicious corn-holing – and several escalating hours of even worse sissy-pussy pounding – I finally felt the guilty, crippled little she-male beneath me was ready for the ultimate culmination of sexual service. So with a wildly excited, limitlessly wicked laugh of relish at Sissy-slut’s sheer bug-eyed terror, I finally strapped that monster cock on and prepared to mount her.

Once again I pulled Sissy-slut’s now ripped and frayed panties aside and ordered little Keri to take up her former position astride her face. She did so immediately, anchoring the she-male’s high-heeled feet under each arm and raising up that already radically dilated opening. Then, despite her reluctant body’s incredibly stiff resistance, I somehow forced that big Norseman’s war club deep inside Sissy-slut’s already extensively stretched pussy.

I really don’t know how I did it. It certainly wasn’t easy. It took several long minutes of thrusting and pumping, heaving and lunging and grinding in circles. Nevertheless I eventually had her loosened up enough to take its entirety. Then I planted my weight and began pounding away, bludgeoning my giant rock-cock brutally, mercilessly up into her, wielding that monstrous penis like some kind of deadly weapon.

And oh my goddess, what a weapon! Stabbing deep into Sissy-slut’s vulnerable lower body, that wicked ivory sword began to look like a rampaging elephant’s goring tusk: repeatedly spearing upward and gouging the life from some idiot trespasser. Harder and harder, I hammered my powerful body forward over and over again, watching in ecstatic disbelief as every last inch of my monstrous cock disappeared repeatedly up into the chained, silk-clad body of my bleating she-male victim. Still, tears of excruciation streaming from her eyes, said victim continuously took every rock-hard bit of it. And all the screaming, yelping, weeping while her hard little sissy-worm kept bobbing and straining, standing out stiffly upright and rubbing insistently against that tight, sticky-wet spot of restraining silk. Of course seeing that turned me on even more and so I increased my already manic efforts correspondingly. And of course, the more I tore my Sissy-slut up inside, the easier it became to do so. Madly possessed by the most rampaging lust of my life, I cruelly, mercilessly continued to pick up the pace, and aided by the best natural lubricant around I ever more viciously gored my ever more excited way into her.

Soon I had my Sissy-slut howling out her horrible agony and equally intense arousal so unabashedly and childishly that I wasn’t the least bit surprised when she finally burst into downright hysterical sobs. That made me think of the three new video cameras, hidden above the bed and behind the sidewall and headboard mirrors, and I laughed out loud with sadistic delight. That secret knowledge supplied me with yet another extra-zealous burst of energy, as I lunged and plunged wildly away and tirelessly worked my pneumatic hips.

I was damn glad to be getting this on tape! The first fruits of my ascension to power were finally being realized. Here I was, using a rock-hard elephant-cock to brutally sodomize this helpless, sobbing, yet obviously painfully erect she-male: viciously fucking this captured spy far beyond any sane notion of acceptable sexual contact. And yet all the time she was taking it, and begging me for more, more, more! What an incredible rush! I almost couldn’t believe it was happening, and I definitely wanted a good recording of it to hold over her head – not to mention watch over and over again in the coming years! As I said, this night was the most exciting, most undeniably exhilarating sexual experience of my life. It seemed like a glorious eternity that I loomed there over Sissy-slut’s pathetically dressed-up body, panting for breath, plunging my hips, continuing to pound and pound away, fucking my cross-dressed little she-male practically with my massive, goddess-size phallus.

Despite the constant drilling, despite the pain, the little she-male’s sissy-worm did constant push-ups in her panties. Unbelievable! Meanwhile my sexy little treat Keri – hereafter to be forever known by the honorific “Little Keri Colts” – writhed and wriggled fetchingly atop her made-up face. Holding Sissy-slut’s body steady, smothering her with her pussy, she muffled her pathetic screaming sobs, kept her helpless legs spread firmly up and apart and constantly egged me on.

“C’mon, fuck her Mistress!” she screamed. “Fuck her harder, harder! Split her in two!”

She’d definitely earned her title, and the sight and sound of such eager young excitement spurred me on and on, driving me to even greater and greater efforts, until I indeed began to wonder if Sissy-slut here would even survive it. But finally, as my insanely intense, hideously punishing assault at last climaxed in an incredibly sustained, brutally manic fuck-frenzy, that bobbing, straining, tightly contained little worm suddenly started its tell-tale shaking and shuddering. Then at last my faggy little torture-pet she-male Sissy-slut spewed out her filthy hot load, confirming her endless debt to me by miserably crying out her pain and shame and pumping thick white come all over the inside of those pretty silk panties.

Well, Keri and I had each had uncounted orgasms by then, so we finally decided to release her. Still, I refused to return her clothes (what was left of them anyway), forcing Sissy-slut to make her way home just as he was: fucked bow-legged and bloody and wearing thick, slutty-smeared make-up, fake eyelashes and pink fingernails, hair ribbons and high heels and come-soiled female lingerie.

Of course, before we let her go we first mercilessly humiliated her one last time, calling her she-male, Sissy-slut, cocksucker and all kinds of other incredibly derisive names, taunting her and asking, ‘Did we pop her cherry for her, or was it just her period?’ At Little Keri’s suggestion I took my lipstick then, and after carefully marking her big water-balloon boobs with easily distinctive red nipples, and writing the name ‘Sissy-slut’ on her forehead, I ordered the disgusting little she-male to wear and preserve those tits – along with the rest of her outrageously scandalous outfit – all the way home. Together we threatened of the direst of consequences if every last piece wasn’t available for inspection – and repeated re-wearing – on any further midnight visits. Then at last we pushed my finally completely successfully transformed Sissy-slut rudely out in the breaking day and slammed the fucking door behind her.

I doubt she’ll come around spying again. Then again you never really know – given the extent to which I’ve indoctrinated and enslaved her sissy little ass, she might just take to provoking me that way every night!

Visit Seven: A Real Kick in the Teeth

At last I had a bit of a respite.

Apparently due to my extensive need for healing, Big Linda Skrue left me alone for a while. Great: just when my mad addiction to her attentions most demanded it – and my wildly exciting emerging femininity most craved constant reinforcement – I was denied both of these things. What in the world was I to do? Fortunately fate came calling however, to a limited degree at least. And though my most overriding needs still remained unmet, I still received a soupcon of blessed domination soon – along with the most devastating news I could have imagined.

One night shortly after that most extreme extravaganza of submission and transformation ever I found myself kneeling on the floor of my bedroom, my knees spread wide and my helpless butt resting on shackled ankles. My hands were cuffed tightly behind my back and a heavy iron collar encircled my guilty neck. And in spite of the bright light shining in my eyes I could just make out the even more dazzling woman who held the chain keeping me upright. You guessed it: it was Little Keri Colts.

Just like Big Linda she showed up at my apartment unannounced, and dragged me out of my bed in the middle of the night. I didn’t even know how she got the address, although I could make a pretty accurate guess. What difference did it make? There she was. Forcing me onto the floor, she first positioned my helpless body to her satisfaction and then tightly chained me up. Then shrugging out of her own stylish leather overcoat she grabbed the chain around my neck and stepped back.

Gorgeous and intimidating Little Keri Colts snapped on the lamp and stood there, letting me study her. The golden light blazed around her small, tight body in a glorious corona, and even through my sleep-bleary eyes I couldn’t believe how hot she looked. Framed by the rich, honeyed sweep of her hair, her angelic face was alight with excitement and flushed with the possibilities of having a captive man all to herself. Green eyes gleaming, thick lips sneering, she was the epitome of angry innocence aroused into unholy vengeance.

Her body was still that of a teen-ager, fit and spare and yet shapely as well, and this added to her incredible allure. Amazingly long, her stiff, peg-like nipples stuck pertly out from her sweet little breasts, and a tiny gold ring twinkled in her navel. With her slim shoulders squared and her curvy hips cocked, she braced her free hand at her tiny waist and postured before me challengingly.

She was intimidating indeed, despite her petite body, and I swallowed several times with a difficulty almost totally unrelated to my tight, heavy iron collar. Then without warning she suddenly jerked the chain forward, almost spilling me onto my face and pulling my attention down properly to the floor between us.

Shiny black boots, spike-heeled and with long, sharply pointed toes clung to her tiny feet, molding her ankles beautifully and extending up her slim, elegant legs to just past the knee. And that was where heaven truly began. Spread and braced wide apart, every sublime line and contour of Keri Colts’ thighs was limned with light, from those glossy black boot-tops up the underside of the legs to where they finally met at the moist center of her envied womanhood. And even that was completely bare, every last little scrap of hair shaved scrupulously clean.

Unbelieving, I stared at that gorgeous, exquisitely sculpted cleft. Remembering its heavenly scent and taste when I was last forced to service her, I soon felt my cock growing as helplessly hard as ever. Kneeling there, with my cursed prick upraised and eyes downcast, I waited humbly for whatever sacrifice or service my additional new mistress demanded of me. I belonged to her now as well as Big Mistress Linda, that much was obvious. Yet still Little Keri hesitated, prolonging the anticipation. She seemed musing, almost introspective as she regarded me kneeling there, and suddenly it appeared that whatever pressing need brought her here thus naked and demanding in the middle of the night was about to be revealed. But when finally she spoke her dire words rocked me to the core.

“I’ve got some news for you, she-male. B’Linda’s leaving town soon. She says she’s got the resources to go anywhere now, do anything she wants, and she’s sick of this lame-ass scene. In fact, you were mentioned specifically. She seems to think you’re about fucked out.” Keri gave a derisive laugh at this, remembering.

“I don’t know, but the way we put it to you the other night makes me think she’s right. There’s not much more we could do to you – Sissy-slut Cocksucker!”

She gave me a sneering, lascivious grin, reminding me with that epithet of the incredibly demeaning climax of that last unbelievably epic encounter. After subjecting me to several hours of the most inventively outrageous extremes of personal and sexual abuse, and finally freeing for good and extensively feeding my nascent need to be female, Little Keri Colts and Big Linda Skrue had proceeded to dump me out naked in the street – except for the hair ribbons, high heels, slutty smeared make-up and falsie-filled, come-soiled lingerie they’d gifted me with.

Keri paused for a minute, allowing us both to savor in our respective ways that incredibly humiliating, irreversibly emasculating memory. Then she continued

“But we decided, before we go, to give you one more night apiece. You’re just too delectable a piece of she-male meat to leave behind unfinished with. And since I doubt there’ll be much of anything (if even that) left of you when B’Linda’s finally done, I’m taking my turn first. You’d better try real hard to impress me, Sissy-slut. The story I carry back to B’Linda just might impact your ultimate fate.”

With that she stepped up, giving me no time at all to assimilate the earth-shaking news she’d just delivered, and jerked the chain forward. Stunned, I landed face-first before her on her suddenly advancing foot, my bruised lips skidding off the slick surface of her boot.

“Lick my feet, slave!” cried Little Keri Colts. “Polish my boots with your worthless tongue! If Big Mistress Linda can whip you and turn you and brutally corn-hole your tight little sissy-pussy, then you can worship me too! I am a biological woman! That makes me a Goddess to a sniveling little pathetically aspiring she-male like you!”

Groveling face-first before her, my stunned mind swarming with swooping terrors and possibilities too hideous to consider, I finally, hopelessly accepted the only way out of my current confusion. Disregarding my suddenly tenuous future I obeyed the urgent throbbing of my hideously inappropriate cock and gave in to the needs of the moment. Whatever the eventual outcome of my dangerous affair with Big Linda Skrue, I bowed before the great Goddess Little Keri Colts and sacrificed my soul a second time.

I put out my tongue and began to lick her beautiful boots clean, from the sharply pointed toes to all around the instep, then the sides and heels and every square centimeter of her shapely ankles. My face burned with coercion as I did so, a hot flush of shame deliciously spiking my arousal, and as always I increasingly got my now desperately necessary frisson from this.

Regardless of the circumstances, regardless of the impending danger to my body, identity, and soul, my own prostration never fails to open inexhaustible wells of perverse excitement in me. Compelled now more by own needs than any command or threat I leaped to perform any abasement offered, the more trying and degrading the better. Lost for the moment in this most perverted of bliss, I eagerly licked and licked and licked and licked, rejoicing ever more openly in both Keri Colts’ cold-hearted coercion and my own shameless acquiescence.

Pulled back upright as necessary by that collar and chain I proceeded purposefully up Little Mistress Keri’s boots, doing first one leg and then the other, slowly lapping my scouring tongue across every shiny inch: past those excitingly knobby ankles and slender calves and gradually up her unbearably sexy young legs until I finally reached the top of the second. There Keri’s silky smooth flesh replaced the slick vinyl, and intoxicated with arousal I somehow dared to continue my way up.

Big Linda would’ve knocked me down of course, but a surprised Little Keri caught her breath, gasping as I licked my way up her inner thigh. Boldly I began eating her out, licking and sucking and nuzzling my face up into that creamy white and finally rose-pink confluence. Soon my tongue was invading the deep warm center of her body as though I had a right to be there. Yet rather than punish me Little Keri Colts merely forced me deeper up into her heavenly cleft. She grabbed me by the hair, and pulling my head backward she stepped over my bound and kneeling form and settled herself astride my face. Then with her long slim legs straddling my head she balanced the slippery center of her pubis on my upturned face and began frantically rubbing herself back and forth.

Oh, my Goddess! She must have learned at least that little trick from Mistress B’Linda. She certainly went at it with the same single-minded frenzy. She humped and pumped and romped and rubbed and rode my frantically working face like a rocking horse, and soon she worked herself into an incredible series of intense, continuously escalating orgasms. Slathering my features with her endlessly gushing come, she practically screamed herself hoarse in the process. But finally she slipped from my slimy face and slid down my body to collapse on the floor at my knees.

There she lay back with her legs spread, her shapely arms flung high above her head and the tight skin of her flanks beautifully outlining the slender, delicate cage of her ribs.

Up and down and up and down and up and down, the taut little cones of Keri’s perfect little breasts rode the diminishing swells of her panting recovery in a gloriously erotic spectacle. But at last she got her elbows under her, and propping herself up some she leaned back and spread her legs even more, letting me see all the way inside.

Her sweet, perfect, unbelievably holy pink cunt lay open like a flower, and oily sweat glistened all over Keri’s incredible body: darkening her honey-gold hair and trickling down her concave belly to slicken that open crotch.

“You see that, slave?” she demanded of me. “That’s the treasure all you despicable male bastards yearn for. You put us women through so much...do you know how much pain and misery I’ve suffered because of that pink little slit...” she trailed off, perhaps considering her unspeakable past, then finished “You owe me, she-male. And you don’t deserve to be a woman.”

With that portentous, dismaying pronouncement she lifted one of those lovely legs, cocking it in the air. Once again peremptory and demanding she snapped, “The bottoms, slave!” Savoring her delicious power over me, Little Keri Colts pushed the dusty sole of her boot in my face and compelled me to lick it clean.

I obeyed her immediately of course, eager as ever to display my slavish obedience to both her every whim and the perverted dictates of my own now hopelessly twisted psyche. And as I licked and licked and sucked and sucked and swallowed the dirt and grit that ground between my teeth, my stiff cock continued to jut inappropriately up from my crotch, throbbing and bobbing in the air. With my burning face and hammering heart also proclaiming the extent of my unshakable commitment to my new existence I dutifully licked the entire sole of lovely Keri’s boot scrupulously clean. Finally, as I finished at the tip of the heel, she suddenly rammed it between my teeth, commanding, “Bite down, dog!”

I bit down hard, and slowly Little Keri stripped it off, pulling the smooth, shapely length of her leg from inside the boot, leaving it to dangle in my jaws. I held it obediently for her, waiting for permission to drop it, and she smiled approvingly as she leisurely stretched and flexed, working her beautiful foot and tiny little toes. At last she kicked the boot contemptuously out of my mouth and rested her long, beautiful leg on my shoulder.

“Again!” she ordered, pushing the sole of her other boot in my face. I repeated the procedure, literally licking up and eating the ground she walked on and then biting in and stripping off her wildly sexy footwear with my teeth.

Again Keri stretched and flexed and limbered up her toes before kicking the boot aside and settling her leg on my other shoulder. Then she lay back before me, propped up on her elbows with her slim, perfect legs splayed open wide.

No way! My unbelieving eyes feasted on her, gorging on the sight of her clean-shaven cunt and excitingly brown butt-hole. Then she began to slowly, sensuously rub her silky legs and delicate feet all over my face and neck.

“Here’s your reward for excellent service, slave.” Mistress Keri husked. Almost weeping with the unimaginably generous honor being done to criminally unworthy me I kissed her feet ecstatically, basking in her sacred favor by eagerly sucking on every delicious toe and licking all around the shapely, sensitive arches, redundantly demonstrating my infinite devotion and limitless humility.

Finally Little Keri went even incomprehensibly further. Her wonderful wet feet slipped lower, tracing cool lines of saliva down my flushed and overheated body to my crotch. Then with her knees splayed wide and her heavenly pussy still on glorious display she brought the soles of her feet together, catching the burning length of my unforgivably male member between those slippery arches. There, holding it tightly between her feet, she began pumping me up and down with a smooth, dexterous ease that was more a tribute to her unbelievable skill than to just the uncommon grace and coordination of youth.

Whatever it was, and for whatever reason she chose to do it, Little Keri Colts leaned back before me on her elbows and proceeded to jerk me off with her incredibly perfect little feet, her fingers simultaneously coming up to find the big hardened pegs of her nipples.

Tirelessly she worked herself, rubbing and twisting and pinching and pulling on them, until both the nipples themselves and the entire surrounding aureole stood stiffly out from her pointy little breasts. She seemed to enjoy working these as much as her cunt, and soon it was obvious that she was becoming once again as uncontrollably aroused as I was. Pebbly gooseflesh marbled Keri Colts’ lean, taut body, and she quickly built the hard pumping rhythm of her matchless legs to a frantic level. Panting and gasping and yelping with need she worked us both, all four limbs flailing relentlessly away, and finally it was more than I could stand. My burning cock ejaculated, spurting come so far and high in the air that several thick gobs of it rained wetly down on Keri’s bare, glistening pussy a full two feet away.

Perfect shot! Taking the hit to her clit she cried out piercingly, dropping a hand from her roughened-up nipple and vigorously rubbing it in, smearing that hot, sticky-thick dream cream in and around and all about the tender lips and folds and flaps of her sopping wet cunt and clitoris.

Lying back, she vigorously masturbated there before me then, frantically fingering herself to several more wildly screaming orgasms before she once again collapsed back moaning at my feet. Eventually, after dozing a while, Little Keri Colts stirred herself. She removed the shackles, cuffs, collar and chain from me and used a once again contemptuous foot to topple me painfully back over flat on the floor. She stared unnervingly down at me for a while, and then repeated her damning judgment.

“I was right. You’re still way too male, way too wedded to the disgusting pleasures of a penis. You don’t deserve to be a woman. Then again, you’re also way too weak and slutty and sissified to be any kind of effective man either, you contemptible little cocksucker. In my opinion you don’t deserve to be anything at all.”

With that she suddenly spit in my face, and then kicked me as hard as she could right in the crotch. The instep of her right boot, so shiny and perfectly, lovingly cleaned by my humble tongue smashed into my ridiculously positioned external gonads with devastating force. If ever I truly wished to be permanently relieved of my damned and damning original sexual equipment it was at that moment! Leaving me lying there helpless and naked, writhing and retching and bawling unabashedly then Little Keri turned without another word and marched out of the house.

The way she slammed the door behind her reminded me instantly and with miserably loving longing of B’Linda, and – oh shit! Big Linda! In the roaring pain and confusion of my stricken soul I wailed out her sainted name in devastating heartache and irreparable loss. I then spent the rest of that cold, terribly uncomfortable night sprawled akimbo on the floor despairingly mourning the coming removal of the only reason for my being – as well as ceaselessly worrying and fruitlessly pondering what my suddenly seriously uncertain – and certainly severely circumscribed – future might hold.

Visit Eight: The Curtain Falls

It was approaching three a.m. and I lay in bed, once again unable to sleep. The weight of my crippled body trapped me there, but it wasn’t the demands of being disabled that kept me awake. It was the thought of Big Linda Skrue, my erstwhile employee that robbed me of rest.

For months we’d been having the wildest, most depraved sexual relationship imaginable. Based solely on finding newer and ever more potent ways for her to dominate me, it was finally coming to a very uncertain end. Now that I was completely healed from our unfathomably climactic last encounter I expected her to pay me a final visit any night now.

Just to refresh for you: Once Big Linda discovered that I was a) starved for any kind of sex, b) capable of erection and orgasm despite my disability, and c) home alone in bed every night she made it a point to enslave me sexually.

She knew that without easy access to my wheelchair I’m stuck in bed every night, unable to escape or resist her, and she wallowed outrageously in the sheer latitude of that opportunity. My own initially tentative but eventually intensely eager response to such subjugation only increased her twisted needs, and what started out as excitingly kinky sex eventually turned into total soul-domination of the most extreme, intimate sort.

With ever-increasing doses of humiliation, bondage, discipline and sexual exploitation Big Linda Skrue had been sadistically abusing my body, crushing my will, defiling my captive manhood and systematically robbing me of my born sexual identity. She seemed diabolically intent upon changing me into something entirely new: a desperately perverted sexually-obsessed creature of her own depraved design. Playing on the obvious fear and arousal she inspired in me she made it a point to debase and humiliate me at every opportunity. Even as she wildly fucked me she constantly impressed upon me my own worthlessness, forcing me to perform the most degrading acts of sexual submission. By this point I’d endured months of outrageous torture and systematic personality alteration culminating in deliberate feminization through role-reversals, cross-dressing, oral and anal penetration of the most sustained and extreme sort and even auto-fellatio. I’d been used, abused and twisted so hard for so long and in so many insane ways that I finally was hopelessly addicted to such treatment and even desperately intent on leaving my born sex behind in emulation and adulation of my beloved soul-owner.

By this point I existed only to please Big Linda by finally becoming fully female, whereupon I might ecstatically suffer her never-ending tortures, expressions of contempt, and ever more profoundly impactful acts of sexual and personal subjugation forever. And yet suddenly I found myself faced with the devastating prospect of never even seeing her again at all after this last encounter. I just heard from her new lover Little Keri Colts that she recently came into a lot of money, and that she’d decided to move to California in order to try satisfying her increasingly demanding needs in the flesh-pots of Los Angeles. But surely she wouldn’t leave without seeing to me first. The thought of being left forever without any kind of closure was almost as heinous to me as the prospect of losing her at all. We had unfinished business, damn it! The way she’d been deliberately changing me, purposely turning me into her a bizarre sexual specimen of her own inspired creation. Surely she planned on completing that project, or at the very least consummating our unbelievably extreme relationship in some ultimate kind of way.

Lying there in the dark, mourning my coming abandonment and waiting and wondering about these things as I had all week, I’d been fervently holding out hope for a happy ending – and simultaneously trying to deny what common sense told me was the most logical end to such a desperately entangled, criminally perverted and exceedingly extreme social and sexual power transaction between two such disparate people inevitably heading in such opposing directions. But then at long last my Big Mistress Linda finally showed up, and in her usual fashion: uninvited and announced only by the sharp, measured tread of her spike-heeled boots.

Slowly the door swung open. And then despite all my speculation and attempted preparation for whatever might portend I still gasped in shock and terror at the sight of her.

Big Linda Skrue’s body was instantly recognizable – I saw that statuesque figure with such amazingly large breasts thrust through a spike-studded leather harness every time I closed my eyes – but that night her muscular arms were gloved to the elbow in knuckle-spiked gauntlets, and her features were almost completely hidden by a black executioner’s hood. In addition to this medieval get-up (if considerably more familiar and less alarming) two glittering pairs of handcuffs dangled at her waist, and her favorite bullwhip trailed on the floor behind her.

Seeing her outfitted thus my blood froze in dreadful premonition. In all of our violent, crazed and outrageously depraved history she’d never looked more forbidding. All by itself a shiver of trepidation raced down my damaged spine, bringing with it of course the predictably swift onset of a painfully hard erection. Damn that betraying and damning organ! Would I never be rid of it?

Still desperately nurturing my pathetically slim hopes I looked up at the hulking, imperiously lovely and limitlessly omnipotent woman who surely owned me more utterly than her most insignificant material possession; who had dominated and subjugated me to such an extent that the person I once was had become almost literally extinct. I flashed back to endless months spent suffering under and servicing her in a myriad variety of ways: being bound and chained and blindfolded and gagged; smacked and cropped and caned and whipped and beaten with a plethora of other punishing implements; of being forced to masturbate for her unlimited derision and then to slavishly service her enormous breasts or suffer their brutally pummeling facial assaults; to performing endless cunnilingus and analingus and of course enduring constant subjection to the most violent eternities of conventional intercourse; even of learning to voraciously perform sperm-swallowing fellatio and wear perfume and make-up and sexy lingerie until I learned to desperately need those things. I remembered her holding a bayonet to my erection, endlessly hammering any number of her own into my body and finally joining with her lover and the usurper of my place Little Keri Colts to perform incredible extremes of sadistic double-fucking sodomy on me that finally irrevocably cemented in my new identity as Sissy-slut the she-male aspirant to divine womanhood. By that point I’d suffered almost every conceivable kind of subjugation under her power – and yet still there I was, preparing to beg her desperately and abjectly for more. But then suddenly my long-rehearsed pleas died on my lips. Something about the silent, deadly way my owner was regarding me as she stood there anonymously hooded was profoundly, chillingly different. Gone completely was the always blazing passion, the hot sexual excitement and exuberant exultation that invariably suffused her upon witnessing my reflexively instinctive, absolutely unstinting submission to her inherent, obviously divine sexual superiority. This time her always vibrant blue eyes were instead flat and cold and hard as they peered through the holes in her executioner’s mask. Then at last she spoke, and her voice was just as chillingly dead and cold.

“It’s time to finish with you Sissy-slut!” Big Linda Skrue declared.

She slammed the door behind her, plunging us back into total darkness. The lock rattled briefly, sealing me in with her. Then from the blackness in front of me came once again Big Linda’s cold, deathly menacing voice.

“I’m leaving town tonight. By morning Little Keri and I’ll be long gone and far away on the other side of the country, leading wonderful new lives. But I trust you didn’t think I’d disappear from here without finishing with you first. I’m tying up all loose ends tonight, severing all my connections to the past, and that includes you. You’re my personal property to the bitter end, Sissy-slut! And this is it!”

In spite of the darkness she leaped onto the bed then, straddling my helpless body as unerringly as always and quickly capturing my wrists. In seconds my arms were spread wide and I was cuffed once again to the bedposts. As she climbed off the mattress then Big Linda ripped away the blankets, exposing my naked body to the night for the final time.

Several tense moments passed, moments during which my imagination had free rein to conjure up any number of hitherto unthinkable scenarios for this dire finish, this ‘bitter end’. Then suddenly a match flared, and B’Linda Skrue set a pair of low, squat candles flickeringly alight. Then she turned from them, faceless and implacable in her grim leather hood. Once again she approached the bed.

Back-lighted by that primitive yellow glow, Big Linda loomed over me, burying me in her hulking body’s encroaching shadow. She pointed a black, accusing, spike-gloved finger at me. Then she reached down, and slowly traced it up the hard, straining length of my inappropriate, contemptible, always irrepressible erection.

“You still want it, don’t you?” she marveled. “Even after all this time, you just can’t help yourself... Well then, tell me, my eternally enslaved little Sissy-slut: after all that I’ve done to you...after all that I’ve taken from you...are you finally ready to give up that last little bit?” Her tight fist gripped me, pulling my hard-on viciously up and back. Huge muscles bulged, and she actually lifted my hips up off the bed by the handle of my hated erection. “Why, I even almost took this once, didn’t I?” she demanded.

“Perhaps I should have. Perhaps I should even now. Truthfully I’ve been looking forward to doing it. And you’ve been making such a wonderfully depraved little she-male lately... But unfortunately Little Keri has convinced me that you don’t deserve the honor of joining our blessed kind. She feels it would be far crueler and more appropriate to deny you the elevation you so obviously lust for. And I have to agree with her.” Her fist clenched painfully on my erection, already screaming with strain at being forced to support my weight. Then at last, as she held me suspended in agony above my bed, Big Linda Skrue pronounced my doom.

“You are going to die as a worthless, contemptible, piece-of-shit man. I intend to take your life tonight. And when your soul enters my eternal service it will be as a stymied and frustrated, hopelessly conflicted she-male, an eternally denied aspirant to the status of the superior sex. Your Goddess has spoken!”

And with that astounding pronouncement, so terrifying and devastating in so many ways, my oft-acknowledged Goddess at last released my pointless, worthless prick, dropping my body back to the bed and moving grimly in on me for the final time.

Instead of immediately sitting on my face however, or thrashing me with her gigantic tits, strapping on her cock to give me one last taste of gloriously feminine sexual service or any of her other well-practiced acts of sexual debasement, on this most momentous occasion Big Linda Skrue reached into a pouch at her belt and produced a short but strong silk cord.

Wordlessly she tied this about the base of my swollen, blood-filled, condemned-to-remain genitals: ensuring that my definitively guilty erection would be of even more superhuman duration than usual. When she finished I pounded and throbbed and jutted sharply at the ceiling, as emphatic a statement of my contemptible sex as ever.

Satisfied with this, ignoring my weak, blubbering pleas for her to let me live, to take me with her as her least little toy, poodle, or even human toilet, or failing that to at least finally unman me before finishing me off, Big Linda Skrue wrenched apart my helpless legs for perhaps the thousandth and last time and moved purposely in between them.

For a moment I dared to hope that I might yet be granted the glory and honor and divine, sublime bliss of being allowed to serve as the blessed receptacle for the brutish, bull-dyke onslaught of her painfully stabbing penis one last time. But then with renewed crushing disappointment I perceived Big Linda indeed truly never meant to bless me that way again. My service as her she-male cock-slut was unquestionably at an end; that monstrously agonizing assault on my cross-dressed body with her antique ‘elephant-cock’ had seen the last of it. Instead of a penis she produced from her pouch a string of Chinese anal “love” beads: half a dozen or more two-inch round hard plastic spheres strung on a cord.

Brusquely she inserted these into my anus (never a sissy-pussy again) one at a time, until only a foot or so of that cord remained running from my stuffed-up hole to her grip on the attached handle. Then she flipped a switch on that handle, and the big hard bulbs stuffing full my insides came alive: each one busily vibrating with an inner life of its own.

Burning heat spread throughout my entire pounding, blood-filled groin. The neural stimulation was incredible, despite everything I moaned in helpless arousal. Condemned to death by my owner, I laid there spread-eagled and naked then, with my arms securely chained in place. Crouching between my limp, unresponsive legs, Big Linda Skrue began purposefully pumping and jerking on my pounding male-meat, using every skill and trick in her extensive repertoire to coax it ever larger.

Wrenching it in circles, yanking it up and down and all around in endless unpredictable directions, she pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled on it, as though trying to rip it out by the roots. Then she let up and quickly, vigorously pumped it through her tight, leather-clad fist, amusing herself by seeing how hard and hot and hugely swollen her iron grip could make it. Then, squeezing it between her giant boobs she proceeded to flog my burning boner until it felt like it wanted to simply explode. Eventually it reached such a massive, pounding, painful rigidity that it throbbed like an impacted tooth, and finally she relented. Considering me erect enough for one last fuck as a disgusting male – one for the road you might say – Big Linda matter-of-factly swung astride me, straddling my hips and mounting me without a word. Once she slipped me up into her hot, tight wetness, she without delay began her usual expertly pneumatic rhythm.

She fucked me thus for an interminable interval, going at it with mindless, machine-like efficiency. Her hips pumped relentlessly back and forth, almost casually riding my supine body and yet building and maintaining an excruciatingly delicious friction between my rock-hard cock and the slick, tight, muscular walls of her vagina. Meanwhile intense, electric waves of stimulation coursed constantly through my burning loins: those big, hot, vibrating love beads humming and thrumming and working tirelessly on my blood-rich rectum and prostate. Soon all this unbearably erotic energy was concentrating fiercely in my groin, and yet still the tight silk rope constricting my genitals clinched me brutally erect, denying my over-driven system the exquisite – and ever more necessary – release of orgasm.

Blessed Goddess!

Unholy pressure continued to mount in my penis and balls, and the growth of my terrified arousal knew no bounds. Bodily fluids seemed to boil within me, and despite (or perhaps because of) the dreadful promise of death hanging over me I was unable to resist the overpowering intensity of this last ever sexual experience. As Big Linda Skrue grimly, methodically stimulated my helpless body far beyond its usual thresholds, the adrenaline flood of my terror merely compounded the chemical and hormonal storm raging through me. Like a sealed pressure cooker this turned me rapidly into some sort of urgently intense, endlessly over-heating organic juggernaut.

And still my Big Mistress Linda fucked me deliberately on, coldly impersonal behind her black leather hood. Driving my despicable masculinity harder and harder, she seemed more determined to force a coronary than an orgasm. And sure enough my manic arousal continued to escalate: my jackrabbit pulse pounding in my veins and my runaway respiration coming in panting heaves and gasps that soon threatened me with hyperventilation. But then suddenly, at the very apex of my incredible physiological arousal, hyperventilation became the very last and least of my considerable worries.

Without losing a stroke of her relentlessly pumping hips, Big Linda Skrue suddenly grabbed up her bullwhip from beside her. Deftly she flipped a quick loop of it over my head. Before I could even begin to respond, she grasped the butt in one fist and wrapped the lash about the other. Then she jerked it cruelly tight, cinching it around my neck.

Ungg! My panting breath was suddenly cut off in mid-gasp. My startled heart lurched alarmingly in my chest. For a moment it seemed caught between literally exploding within me or just stopping dead forever. Then at last after skipping a few beats it began hammering away even harder than ever.

It had good reason to labor. My slim, suddenly delicate throat was absolutely crushed in the tight noose of Big Linda Skrue’s bullwhip. And at the sudden shock to my system, the enormous kinetic energy of my runaway arousal seemed to detonate.

Galvanized by violent nerve impulses that coursed along my damaged spine and flooded my overloaded receptors, my entire body suddenly kicked and spasmed and flopped about in my bed as though I was dangling from the hangman’s gibbet. Legs that hadn’t moved on their own in over ten years bunched and flexed and thrashed like mad, and my back arched and snapped and bucked beneath Big Linda’s weight with furious energy. Yet still she rode me effortlessly, her whip cutting deep into my neck and choking off any possible hope of breath. Unreal! My lungs screamed for air, but to no avail. Body bouncing, limbs thrashing, I burned what little oxygen was stored in my lungs in seconds. Then the real suffering began. Hot blood suffused my burning face, and soon I felt my bulging eyes and swelling tongue beginning to protrude.

The sudden additional adrenaline rush of mortal terror further fueled my violent spasms. I struggled wrenchingly with my implacable bonds. Yet still my complete, utter helplessness was as perversely compelling as always. Soon that shameful excitement combined with an encroaching anoxic euphoria to stoke my stupidly burning lust to a raging, white-hot intensity. Suddenly in extremis, with both my oxygen-starved brain and my tightly constricted groin pounding with unrelievable need, I finally turned my frantic gaze up to Big Linda Skrue.

Still she rode my helplessly jack-knifing body professionally, her tight cunt still gripping my impossibly huge, iron-hard cock, her hips still pumping pneumatically and her strong, leather-clad arms holding the taut ends of the whip like reins. She leaned back, biceps bulging like cannonballs, and the brutal pressure on my throat was jerked tighter and tighter as she fought to stay atop my wildly leaping and bucking and convulsing hips.

This was the first time in our affair Big Linda didn’t have to generate all the copulation motion herself – except for when Keri Colts was spearing recklessly into me from the other end – and she took full advantage of it. Clamping me between her powerful thighs she rode and choked me simultaneously: pitiless and implacable, enjoying the most wildly erotic ride of her extensive sexual life on my violently kicking death throes.

But then at last the glorious sight of Big Linda Skrue in all her incredibly erotic power began to dim, and through my panicked, anoxic arousal I finally realized that the previously unthinkable was in the process of happening. That unbelievably superior Amazon Goddess; that incomparably rapacious sexual predator was about to carry her complete and utter possession of me to its ultimate end. Trapped in her thrall by my own incredibly perverse needs, I’d already submitted to her every last shred of my autonomy. Now to feed her unholy lust for conquest and domination she meant to drain away my very existence.

At that last, terrifying moment of ultimate awareness I struggled fruitlessly with myself, still trying to shirk the horror of my fittingly ignominious fate. But then all that pounding pressure at last became too great. In the final, wrenching spasms of asphyxiation, some primitive spinal reflex at last forced an incredible, uncontainable orgasm to explode through my prick.

That thin silken cord was suddenly somehow gone, and all the pounding, burning pressure of my infinite need seemed to galvanically erupt from me. And with that wrenching, convulsive release of hot spurting come, I felt an absolutely indescribable apotheosis of ecstasy, deliverance, and above all blessed relief that finally convinced me to willingly give up to my Big Mistress Linda Skrue my otherwise meaningless life.

But then, as if this last, most intimate surrender were some kind of trigger, the pressure on my throat suddenly ceased. Almost instantaneously, another rush of pure, uncontrollable sensation shuddered through me. Screaming out her own apocalyptic orgasm, Big Linda Skrue finally dropped both ends of the whip in order to grab behind herself and pull that string of hotly vibrating spheres slowly from my ass: popping them deliciously out one by one by one and stimulating wave after wave of continuing orgasmic contractions.

Freed at last from the noose’ deathly grasp, I could only twist and spasm and convulse in mindless anoxic ecstasy, as those endless waves rose and peaked and rose and peaked ever higher, and at last only slowly receded within me. But then at the final, bitter end I somehow broke through the strange paroxysm that gripped my chest, and began wrenching heaving, coughing breaths through my horribly burning throat.

The wicked world swam with the sudden inrush of oxygen, and I retreated deep inside, carried swooningly down into the enfolding darkness on the gently receding ache of impossible, incredible release that lingered in my loins.

Gradually I wrested life back into my quivering, contemptuously male body one tortured breath at a time. When the world finally returned to me, I found myself miraculously free, the cuffs gone from my abraded wrists and Big Mistress Linda nowhere to be found.

Apparently she’d left me for dead (or close enough to it), and gone on to other places and big and better challenges, leaving me reluctantly male, alive, and miserably alone. And burned deep into my neck – and even deeper into my still enslaved soul – she left me as a memento the obvious scar of our last encounter: an indelible brand that marks me now and forever as the personal property of Big Linda Skrue.

Six Assorted Stories

No Shrinking Violet

Victoria’s Secret

Hot and Cold Running Cocks

Nocturnal Submissions

Closeted Slut

Party Animal

No Shrinking Violet

My beautiful wife Violet and I haven’t had sex in over three months. In fact we’ve only even done it once – if you can call less than sixty seconds of clumsy fumbling on my part and screaming protests on hers sex. Hell, by any reasonable standard I’m still a virgin.

Despite her own carnal experience (she’s five years older than me) Violet claims to have a medical condition that makes vaginal penetration excruciating, even intolerable. She also finds the smell of my penis so repellent that she refuses to even touch it, much less take it into her mouth. Yet she isn’t frigid in the least. She adores having me perform cunnilingus on her – so much so that she demands it constantly and always climaxes repeatedly from it, often wildly riding my face until I’m beyond exhausted and extensively chafed. But still she refuses steadfastly to reciprocate, even to the point of insisting that I take my solitary pleasure out of her sight, where she won’t have to witness my ‘goatish’ and ‘disgusting’ self-abuse.

I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’d never dream of cheating on her of course. Simply put, I’m so madly in love with her I’m attracted to no one else. Despite the fact that she’s often brusque and impatient with having me around the mansion all the time (as a successful novelist I work at home) her incomparable beauty is simply irresistible.

Her long thick hair is a glossy raven black, and her large dark eyes (she was named for their incredible color) are so deep and liquid that I could drown in them. Her body too is absolutely fantastic. Tall and slender (indeed she’s taller than me, a trait I’ve always found inexplicably exciting) she is nevertheless blessed with softly swelling, remarkably generous breasts. Being married to such a prize is a staggering source of pride for me. Yet our situation is becoming increasingly untenable. What is a marriage without any real sex? I am going mad with unrequited lust, and she is more than fed up with all of my wheedling and complaining. But finally Violet has declared that she’s found a solution to our problem. After showering together, and allowing me the rare treat of bathing her and toweling her dry, she leads me into the wardrobe off our huge, spacious bedroom.

“This should take care of your need for intimacy with me Richard. And I believe it may also help you to understand my situation a little better. You might actually learn some compassion for me in the process.”

Of course I protest that my compassion for her is boundless. But she merely hushes me sternly, and leads me over to her half of the wardrobe. She selects a sheer silk negligee of a deep imperial purple, and a pair of matching pumps with four-inch stiletto heels. My heart and loins respond immediately. These have always been my favorite embellishments, matching her gorgeous eyes and making her tower an exhilarating half-foot higher than me. But then she turns and holds them out, an ominous little smile playing about her lips.

“Put these on!”

“Huh? What?”

“I said put these on Richard. We’re going to indulge in a little role-playing tonight.”

“I…I can’t!”

“Of course you can. Do you want to have sex with me or don’t you?”

“Of course I do. But…”

“No ‘buts’, Richard. At least not yet. Put these on, or learn to be content with just servicing me and secretly playing with yourself for the rest of your life.”

“Oh…well…all right,” I finally stammer, blushing uncontrollably. Sixty seconds later I stand there tottering precariously in those excruciatingly tight high heels and fidgeting uncomfortably: still blushing, deeply embarrassed, and yet with my tellingly erect penis poking stiffly up from under the lacy purple hem in front. Violet smirks superiorly at the sight of this. Then she binds a wide black sash about my eyes, blindfolding me.

“Wait here now, and don’t you dare peek. You try it and I’ll tie your hands behind you!” More embarrassed and uncomfortable by the second, I obey her, standing there on my crammed-together tiptoes. Shifting my weight back and forth like a child needing to pee (my cramped feet and radically extended ankles already killing me) I listen to her rustling about next to me for several long minutes. At last she claims my hand and draws me stumbling blindly after her.

“Okay Richard,” she giggles with secretive glee. “Let’s go to bed.”

She leads me there, and directs me in positioning myself: lying flat on my back in the middle, with a pillow under my head and my arms straight down at my sides. Then, still keeping me blindfolded, she begins an unprecedented and deliciously prolonged bout of foreplay.

“Don’t you move a muscle now Richard,” Violet breathes forbiddingly at me. “Tonight I finally make love to you, instead of the other way around.”

Intrigued (and yes, wildly aroused) at this reversal of roles I quietly submit as she lies down beside me and goes to work with her big soft lips. At first softly and gently, but then ever more aggressively she devours my mouth, until we’re tongue-kissing urgently. Then she goes to stroking my chest, parting that slippery silk negligee in front and slipping her hand inside it. Soon she’s rubbing and squeezing my nipples as we make out, even pinching and pulling cruelly at them. Despite the pain involved this is wildly arousing, and soon she has me moaning helplessly at the novel sensations. Then Violet makes me even hotter still by leaving off kissing me to lick and suck at those now tingling and erect tips, carrying on this way until I’m actually writhing with need, gasping desperately as she toys with me. Finally I’m so hard and hot that my endlessly neglected erection throbs in synch with my pounding heart, and I’ve actually begun to whimper with erotic distress. And then she swings atop me, straddling my belly and trapping my arms tightly against my sides with her knees. Then at last she slips the blindfold up and off.

Blinking in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, I first see that the cross-dressing isn’t limited to me. Violet’s long thick hair is pinned up behind her head, and she’s used eyeliner or something to give herself an elegant pencil mustache. About her slender throat she wears a black bow tie, and the bright white vest of my wedding tuxedo is buttoned tightly about her torso, containing and concealing all but the pushed-up tops of her lovely large breasts. But then my gaze drops lower, and I catch my breath in shock. Below the navel-dimpled flat of her slender belly juts up and out at me the jet-black length of a fearsomely lifelike dildo. Strapped securely about her crotch, this must be ten by two inches long and thick. Giggling gleefully at my stunned expression Violet clasps the base of this between her two hands and waggles it enticingly at me.

“Oh yes, Richard! Tonight you learn what it’s like to have your poor body painfully penetrated! After this perhaps you’ll have some more sympathy for my condition! And perhaps you’ll even come to love what I cannot. After learning about this kind of sex in an on-line support group I’ve been reading up on it. According to this doctor on the internet, the constant massaging of a hard thrusting cock on the male prostate gland can be so stimulating that it brings on the most intense of orgasms, while the simultaneous rhythmic pressure on the woman’s clitoris can do the same thing for her.

“You say you must have the intimacy of intercourse with me? You say that only by climaxing together can we truly forge the properly enduring bonds of marital bliss? Then surely we must try this!

“You have been so insistent that I suffer for the sake of our union. Surely you must agree to suffer equally with me! That’s only fair, is it not? So now I will fuck you like a man, and you will lie there and take it like a woman. If you can endure this, and maybe even learn to enjoy it, then all our marital problems will be solved. And if not, then we can at least resume our woefully limited sex life on equal footing. Argue with that if you can!”

What can I possibly say to this? Despite the appalling perversity of her proposal, Violet’s logic is truly inarguable. After all my complaining she has deftly turned the tables on me. I can’t in good conscience refuse her. And really…if indeed she speaks the truth, and is not just intent on punishing me for my supposedly unreasonable persistence, perhaps she has found a way forward for us after all. What was that about incredibly intense orgasms? After going so long with no stimulation outside of lonely masturbation I’d be willing to settle for just merely reasonably exciting. Finally I swallow hard against my considerable qualms, and gaze beseechingly up at her.

“Violet…Violet, please…”

“Please what?” she demands in all of her always intimidating beauty, at last I manage to give voice to my conflicting impulses.

“Please, well…please just be gentle with me.”

“Of course I will,” she smiles wickedly down. “At least, until you inevitably begin begging me for the opposite. Now, bend up your knees and spread your legs out wide, my tasty young virgin. It’s time for your incredibly necessary and equally fun deflowering.”

As I tremblingly comply, Violet moves back until she squats before my vulnerable portal. She reaches for the top of that blindingly bright white vest, and from between her plumped-up breasts she withdraws a tube of lubricant. Grinning evilly at my fearful gasping and quivering, she pokes the nozzle of this into my anus and squeezes, squirting a copious load of slippery goop up into me. Whimpering at this darkly suggestive sensation, and in helpless terror of the worse violation to follow, it’s all I can do to catch my thighs in my hands and pull them up higher and wider apart, until my high-heeled feet are spread out on either side of my head. Squeezing shut my eyes then I turn my face away from her, pressing its left side deep into the pillow. Then I wait with bated breath for my profoundly shameful, surely painful ordeal to commence.

The mattress shifts a bit under Violet’s weight as she moves into place. Soothingly her fingers touch me, gently caressing the insides and undersides of my splayed-out thighs. Then they zero purposefully in on me, further parting and then prying wide the already opened base of my buttocks. Even over my own frightened panting I can hear her heavy breath catch as she deliberately aligns and prepares herself. Then with an exquisite sigh of triumphant excitement she thrusts her hips forward, effortlessly claiming my very last privacy from me.

Deep inside me slides the big blunt object of her ten inch-long erection. Wincing I bite my lower lip, bravely stifling any outcry. Truly the pain is intensely intimate, and yet not as traumatizing as I’d feared. The immense shame is infinitely more debilitating. Yet nevertheless there’s also indeed something undeniably exciting about that sense of utterly helpless possession as I’m so comprehensively taken. Deeper and deeper pushes in that big invading thickness; oh so evocatively it stretches me and fills me, until at last Violet’s balls are pressed against my body and her enormous penis is all the way inside me.

“There,” she quietly declares. “How do you like it, girl? Are we learning some sympathy for our better half yet?”

“It hurts,” I whimper, stretching myself out wider still.

“I know it hurts,” she breathes, “What have I been telling you all along? But that’s not what I asked you. I asked you how you like it.”

“It…it…it feels…I don’t know…I guess it feels okay…”

“I think it feels more than just okay,” she sneers knowingly at me. “I think you like it. I think you actually enjoy being dressed up and fucked like a girl. And I know I absolutely love being the manly one wielding the nasty raping cock. And we’ve barely just gotten started. Let’s just see where this leads us…” Slowly she pulls back, and then thrusts forward again, gasping with pleasure as the butt of her erection pushes directly back on her clit.

Groaning uncontrollably I strain my ass out even wider and higher as she fills me all the way up again, mortified beyond belief at both my exquisite subjugation and the undeniable thrill it gives me. From wilting a bit my own erection has somehow swollen swiftly back up into urgent rigidity, throbbing hotly as her big cylindrical length both firmly presses on and slides delightfully along that unexpectedly sensitive inner spot. I doubt my manhood can survive much more humiliation. Yet for some reason I respond as much to this emotional component of the experience as I do the physical, as Violet contemptuously rubs in the obvious.

“Ah yes, you do like it girl. You even love it, you little slut. You love having your husband’s long, thick, hard erect penis thrusting all the way up inside of you. Maybe next time you’ll get to wear makeup and perfume, panties and stockings and pretty little ribbons in your hair. But for now you’ll have to be content with just your new negligee and fuck-me shoes, and my big hard prick sticking you. So let’s see how much you love being really fucked!”

Once again she pulls back. But this time she actually lunges forward, stabbing brutally up into me and forcing a pained grunt from between my clenched teeth. Again and again she repeats this potent stroke, building up and then settling into a powerfully plunging rhythm marked by gasps of effort and ecstasy on her part and simultaneous groans from me.

“Uh…uh…uh…uh…uh!” Oh the pain is so much greater now! And yet the dynamics involved are desperately energetic. Being fucked, I’m being fucked here! My whole body is jarred by every violent thrust against it, and the sound of Violet’s own quickly climbing excitement is irresistibly contagious. My raging erection slaps against my abdomen, and that long thick hardness plunging so forcefully in and out of me is increasingly compelling. Even the burning shame I feel at being used this way continues to contribute ever more incomprehensibly to the weird erotic alchemy swamping me. Driven somehow to maximize this perverse mandate I at last open my eyes and face my taker. Violet’s teeth are bared, her big dark eyes blazing and her breath hissing wickedly in and out as she tirelessly works her body up against and into mine. This sight is an insane aphrodisiac, and again I stretch myself wider and strain my hips upward, opening myself as completely as possible to her uncontested possession. Locking gazes with me, she begins panting out demands, further stoking our reciprocal mutual arousal.

“Yeah baby, yeah! What was that about me being gentle? You want it hard now, don’t you? You want it as painful as I can make it! Beg me for it then! Beg me for my big hard cock, you perverted little slut! Beg me to fuck you as viciously as I can!”

Ah God! At last I cast aside any remaining reservations about this obscenity. Wallowing in my shameful depravity I obey violent Violet without a second thought – or even a first one.

“Yes darling! Oh please fuck me as hard as you can! Pound my little pussy with your penis! Make me your bitch, your slut, your cravenly craving dick-slave! Oh please give it to me as brutally as possible! I want only to be your lowly eager fuck-toy until the end of all time!”

“Good girl!” she growls down. Violet leans forward and drops toward me. She catches herself on her hands. Then propped just above me she rises onto her toes and starts absolutely bludgeoning into me in the missionary position. Using gravity to her advantage – as well as every iota of her unexpectedly prodigious strength and supremely domineering zeal – she slams her heavy body down and her thick prick all the way into me perhaps once every second.

Oh the pain is now enormous, and yet blessedly welcome in all its agonizing, evocative invasiveness! So long, so hard, so deeply and rapidly stabbing is her glorious erection that I can’t help but cry out wildly as it has me. Oh what a will-sapping, inarguably appropriate expression of our always asymmetrical relationship! Snarling down at me with our faces less than a foot apart, my wonderfully dominant Violet fucks me with a maniacal energy, her blazing passion climbing in intensity with every punishing thrust.

Quickly her cries overtop mine, until she’s shrieking with climactic ecstasy even as her impossible pace crests in an incredibly sustained peak. It must be ten minutes at least that she screams like a banshee and hammers down into me; showering me with the sweat of her exertion and driving me clear out of my mind with willingly victimized excitement. But at last she’s sated, if only temporarily. Finally victorious Violet falls completely forward atop me, crushing me into the mattress with her cock still buried balls-deep inside my terribly battered-in bottom and her soft cheek pressed tightly against mine. Her explosively panting breath ruffles my mussed hair and quickly heats up my neck and ear.

“Oh my little fuck-toy that was so incredible!” Violet finally gasps. “I think I’ve found my calling in life, as well as the best kind of sex imaginable. But we’re not done fucking until you come too, at least this once. I don’t want you ever again to have any excuse for touching yourself. We need to change positions now.” She climbs off and pulls out of me, dragging the pillow from under my head as she does so. She places it lengthwise next to my waist.

“Roll over onto this,” Violet orders me, and I eagerly obey. I will never find it imaginable to even disagree with her again. Once I’m face-down on the bed, with my hotly pulsing hard-on mashed into the firm feather pillow and my greedy ass elevated above the rest of my body, she swings back atop me, now straddling my pressed-together thighs. She grips my left wrist and bends my arm behind my back and up between my shoulder blades in a classic wrestling hold, quite unnecessarily incapacitating me. Still this cruelty only excites me further, deliciously feeding my finally fully freed submission compulsion. Briefly I fantasize about her viciously thrashing me with a hairbrush, a paddle, a supple leather belt or even a riding crop, angrily haranguing me for my innate weakness and despicable perversity as she pitilessly disciplines me.

Surely Violet will consent to take this inevitably necessary next step (and many others more) soon, if she doesn’t indeed conceive of them for herself. But then all coherent thought is driven effortlessly from my mind, as her gloriously divine erection suddenly once again spears all the way up into my achingly hungry hole and recommences fucking me into permanent and incredibly comprehensive subjugation.

Every pounding penetration is devastatingly accentuated by the rhythmic, wrenching pain in my shoulder as her violent movements are transmitted up my twisted-back arm. Crying out in limitlessly welcome agony as I’m brutally used, feeling my raging hard-on slipping against and pressing deeply into the pillow under me in exact syncopation with the relentless stabbing of Violet’s rampaging erection, I’m more madly aroused and perversely excited by the second. And once again my incomparable wife maximizes this by goading me on as she fucks me, her every snarling demand and cruelly accurate accusation driving me ever more insane with that deliciously deep debasement.

“Take it bitch! Take it cunt! Take it, you disgustingly greedy slut! Take my brutally fucking penis, you shamelessly dick-loving piece of trash! You live for this now! You belong body and soul to my big male member! You love being ass-fucked and you know it you vile little strumpet! So take it! Take it! Take it! Take it! Take it deep and hard, dick-slave!”

With that Violet’s scathing exhortations at last lapse once again into drilling orgasmic shrieks. And this time it all proves way too intense for me. Her pile-driving pounding, her punishing physicality, her pitiless dominance and wildly contagious climax all combine with the relentless friction on my tightly squashed tumescence to trigger my own overwhelming apotheosis. Shuddering all over I ecstatically surrender to the neuromuscular convulsion ripping through me and spurt, spurt, spurt my organic eruption all over the pillow underneath me even as I mindlessly writhe and cry out the most incredibly draining and fulfilling climax of my entire existence. Then I can only go helplessly limp and whimper weakly in appalled aftermath, as glorious Violet takes her own sweet time in hammering out the extensive throes of her extravagant ejaculation.

Finally my insanely arousing, life-changing violation and defloration are finished. My now undeniably omnipotent spouse releases my wrenched-back arm, pulls out of my suddenly achingly empty cavity and climbs off of me. She stands tall on the huge bed next to me and uses a contemptuous foot to roll me rudely over onto my back.

Dazedly I gaze up at her towering above me and glowering threateningly down, her big black prick jutting imperiously out from her impossibly potent crotch. Lying utterly vanquished at her feet I regard her with tremulous awe as some kind of goddess-colossus, set henceforth to rule over me unquestioningly for all of eternity as she sternly addresses me.

“Well, Richard, I think it’s safe to say we’ve just discovered and established the new, perfectly defining relationship for us.

“I have just made you into my eternally subservient and desperately submissive dick-slave. From now on you will eagerly service my genitals and submit to being butt-fucked for as long as I want whenever I want it – which will surely be several times a day at least. I’m going to absolutely love it having you at home all the time now. Rather than an annoying presence pestering me for sex, you will instead be on call around the clock to submit to me. And now that you’ve gotten to ejaculate at last you will never do so again.

“I don’t ever want you touching your disgusting little penis, not even to pee. From now on you will urinate squatting or sitting down like a girl. Nor will you ever dare to argue with me again, or even dream of disobeying my most insignificant whim in the least. I will now make all the decisions for us, financial and otherwise, while you do all of the housekeeping. I intend to dismiss the domestic staff, and end your writing career. With what you’ve already earned for us, we can live just fine on our investments. I will even determine when, where and how you get to eat, sleep, and use the bathroom. Every last facet of your existence will henceforth be totally under my control.”

Violet swells with vindictive satisfaction at this prospect. Then she continues.

“In addition you will always address me lovingly and respectfully as ‘Beautiful Violet’. ‘Yes Beautiful Violet’, you will say. ‘No Beautiful Violet’, ‘Right away Beautiful Violet’, and most of all, ‘I absolutely adore you Beautiful Violet!’ Meanwhile you yourself will answer exclusively to the demeaning new name of ‘Dick-slave’. You will submit without the slightest complaint to whatever sanctions, deprivations, or corporal punishments I might deem either appropriate or just plain fun for me, no matter how harsh or humiliating you might find them. You will even learn to crave being constantly placed into the tightest, strictest, most confining forms of bondage, from handcuffs and leg-irons to hogtying and straitjackets to cock-gagging, butt-plugging, and being imprisoned and displayed in a tiny hanging birdcage. I intend to install one in here, where you can watch me cuckold you, as well as in the main living room, where everyone who comes in the door can see you.

“Of course I never really had a problem with vaginal penetration. That was all just a convenient fiction. I’ve just never considered your pathetic little thing worthy of me, or frankly of any use whatsoever. Therefore you will also spend the rest of your life locked into a state-of-the art titanium chastity device. I will be your eternal key-holder. Any penile pleasures will be forever at my discretion and an exquisitely extreme rarity for you. Perhaps you’ll be allowed to have an unfettered, untouched erection for a few minutes a few times a decade (if that). But that will be entirely dependent upon your exemplary obedience to me and otherwise slavishly submissive behavior. Is all of that clear, Dick-slave?”

“Yes Beautiful Violet!”

Despite the unthinkable enormity of all this I remain hopelessly in thrall to the experience just past. Quavering gushingly up at her as she looms above me seemingly to the celestial ceiling I expound upon my affirmation as elaborately as my extensive vocabulary will allow.

“I absolutely adore you Beautiful Violet! I treasure you, cherish you, value, honor, esteem, revere, venerate and devotedly dote upon and unceasingly worship you forever Beautiful Violet! I truly love you desperately, unstintingly and wholeheartedly, my sublimely lovely and divinely omnipotent Beautiful Violet! I want only to belong to you utterly, and to serve you and service you to the best of my abilities forever and ever amen! You are my gloriously gorgeous and most exceedingly gracious goddess, Beautiful Violet!”

“Good girl!” my new supreme deity smirks superiorly down at me. Her huge dark eyes gleam with limitlessly sadistic triumph. “Let’s go back in the bathroom then. You can worship my sacred flesh by once again bathing my entire heavenly body, this time with your humbly loving tongue. That will be your most blessed holy sacrament and very occasional reward. Then, after rinsing me off and drying me, you will shave off every last scrap of your body hair. And after that you will clean this entire mansion from top to bottom, attic to basement, dressed just as you are now, in sexy stiletto heels and that slippery silk negligee.

“Get used to this quickly Dick-slave. Because I’ll not only be keeping you shaved but also cross-dressed like this for the rest of your life. From now on you’ll be wearing extremely high heels and stockings around the clock, as well as panties and g-strings and thongs, garters and belts and girdles and corsets, halters and bras and bustiers; fetching little nighties, teddies, rompers, baby-dolls, merry-widows, and sheer filmy peignoirs; see-through chemises and camisoles, slips and petticoats, frocks and miniskirts and scandalously skimpy dresses; veils and bonnets and circlets and tiaras. You’ll wear lacy lingerie with flowers and frills and pleats and ribs, straps and buckles and ribbons and ruffles and all manner of exceedingly feminine excesses not only on your undergarments, but also on any outer clothing I choose to dress you up in.

“You’ll sport elaborate wigs and hairstyles, extremely heavy facial make-up, sinfully seductive perfume, tons of cheap costume jewelry, hot pink finger and toenail polish; nail extensions and falsies, tattoos and body-piercings and the whole decorative works. From now on you are always going to look and act exactly like the shamelessly penis-craving hussy-slut that you’ve just proven yourself incontrovertibly to be. Maybe I’ll even get you a cute little French maid’s uniform complete with cap and apron and locking ballet boots to show you off in whenever we entertain our friends and families. Whenever you’re not hanging gagged and plugged and shackled up in your public cage that is…

“In any case, if you’ve finished cleaning the house by dawn – and you damn well better be, and I don’t want to find the tiniest speck of dust anywhere or even a single fingerprint on the smallest piece of silver or glassware – you can retire to your now permanent bed on the floor of the downstairs maid’s closet. I’ve had enough of you for tonight. But I’ll be summoning you by cell phone to fuck you into submissive oblivion again first thing tomorrow morning, before you even serve me my breakfast in bed – as you will unfailingly do from now on. Got all that? Good! Now take this, Dick-slave!”

Beautiful Violet un-straps the monstrous cock that has just so completely changed and enslaved me, and drops it onto my sweaty, silk-clad belly.

“Make especially sure that you clean my penis properly. Tomorrow you will be learning to fellate it, after which you can give me humbly kneeling, shamelessly enthusiastic, first class deep-throated blow-jobs whenever I particularly want to humiliate you. Oh god, I can’t wait to royally fuck your face, maybe even in front of everyone! You are going to make just the sleaziest little cocktail waitress, floor show, and public penis-sucker ever, Dick-slave. I’m going to have to have a giant party soon to celebrate and show off the new you. Perhaps I’ll even advertise it around the local fetish scene, and every gay bar in a fifty-mile radius. Then I can repay all your celibacy by tying you up and letting every man and woman in attendance brutally fuck your ass and face. Just think how much hot stinky sperm you’ll get to swallow, or have pumped out all over your ugly slutty she-male face and up your incredibly greedy sissy-pussy. Won’t that more than make up for never getting to ejaculate again, you lucky little Dick-slave? And just think: if you’re especially lucky, I might make these parties a weekly thing. You’ll end up getting more hot sex than Hugh fucking Hefner!”

With a final giggle of delighted relish then Beautiful Violet leaps lightly to the floor. She leans over, takes me by the hand and smugly pulls me tottering up onto my woefully pinched-in toes. Then she victoriously leads me staggering away from the bed of my defilement and into my limitlessly exciting and shockingly perverse new future.

Victoria’s Secret

“Follow me,” directed my prospective owner Victoria coldly, leading the way into her spacious penthouse apartment. Palms sweating, heart pounding, I obeyed. Then at brusque gesture from her I stepped aside. She swept closed and locked the door behind us with a finality that was chilling.

She was big and hot and red all over, this wealthy Irish Amazon: boots of soft leather that added another four inches to her already imposing six foot two-inch height and rose to just below her knees before stylishly folding over; a shiny thigh-length raincoat that belted tightly around her slim waist, emphasizing her flaring hips, bulbous ass, broad shoulders and impressive breasts; all of this overtopped by a wondrously luscious cascade of naturally wavy cherry-colored hair as thick and full as it was lustrous and long. A generous speckling of strawberry freckles ornamented her lovely if severe features and her lush big lips and long, elegantly shaped fingernails were painted and polished to match her hair and outfit. Already I was in thrall as much to her haughty, arrogant attitude as I was to her overwhelming desirability, and when she turned and began snapping more orders at me I once again hurried to obey.

My sister, who knows more about me than anyone might wish, set me up with this dominant feminine paragon on the occasion of my eighteenth birthday. And so far this momentous first encounter consisted of one brief drink at a downstairs bar followed by a swift private elevator trip up to the top of this luxury high-rise. Now, with a spectacular constellation of innumerable city lights twinkling through the floor-to-ceiling windows and reflecting off the broad river snaking nearby, and this incomparable specimen of utterly irrefusible womanhood leading me without ceremony through this sybaritic space toward her bedroom, I couldn’t help but bless wise Serina. Eleven years older than me and my superior in every way, my big sister has always known just what’s best for me despite all her cruelly bullying ways. Trembling with both excitement and trepidation, I took courage from that fact as the prospective owner she’s found for me effortlessly assumed control over me from her.

“Take your clothes off boy. Every last stitch. If this works out you won’t ever need any clothing again. Then go over there and lie on the bed, on your belly, right in the center, straddling one of the bolsters.”

This gigantic bed is a perfect circle at least twelve feet in diameter. The thick mattress and bolsters (these latter are cylinders about six feet long and one through) are clearly feather-stuffed and covered in shiny, expensive red silk. Bright red spotlights further drench everything in that ominously bloody color, and set amidst these in the ceiling is an enormous mirror the same size and shape as the bed, albeit specially beveled to magnify the reflected image. As instructed I swiftly stripped to the last sock, dragged a bolster into the center of the bed and lay down atop it. A moan of pleasure escaped me as my already urgently erect penis was crushed into that silken plush. Clutching the hump of the bolster with my crotch and thighs (both shaved scrupulously bare as per Serina’s instructions for this encounter) I looked eagerly up at the woman preparing to take eternal possession of me.

Ignoring me for the moment, she removed her raincoat, revealing a very spare bodysuit of slick, shiny red. Cut up high around the waist and ass, this revealed her thighs and buttocks in all their muscular glory. Victoria’s crotch remained covered, as did her tightly corseted middle, the small of her back and all but the bulging tops of her truly opulent breasts. Matching gauntlets covered her arms to the biceps, but from there on up these limbs proved as exquisitely defined as her thighs: buffed and bulky (yet not grotesquely so) right up to her broad shoulders, bare upper torso and impressively corded neck. The effect was a perfect combination of intimidating physical power and irresistible feminine allure, the latter spectacularly accentuated by that flood of fiery red hair and the aquiline beauty of her sternly set face. Lovely Victoria paused a moment more to unfold the tops of her boots, bringing their supple leather reach to a full two inches above her knees. Then ignoring me still she strode up to a closet at the head of the bed and threw it open, revealing a veritable cornucopia of sex toys, restraints, and implements of discipline.

I’d expected nothing less. Since the passing of my parents in a heinous murder/suicide when I was but eight, Serina raised me to be the antithesis of my domineering father; to be forever deferential to superior womanhood, a slave for all intents and purposes. She spent our lives preparing me to be the plaything and property of a pitiless dominatrix. By this point I could imagine no other possible future, and was actually inexpressibly grateful to her for finding me a prospective owner of such surpassing beauty. If I was to spend my life serving and worshipping someone, thank heaven it was to be someone so eminently worthy of it. All that remained was for me to prove worthy of her, to accept whatever Victoria required of me eagerly and without question so that she might swiftly find me acceptable. Any failure on my part would not only doom me to a less heavenly owner but also reflect poorly upon my sister. Therefore I steeled myself to somehow enjoy the upcoming ordeal no matter how extreme it might prove to be.

Still without acknowledging me in the slightest, Victoria chose three items (all red of course) and laid them on the bed between us. The first was a gag consisting of a large plastic ball threaded onto a wide, locking leather strap. Next was an arm-binder, also of supple red leather and sporting perhaps a dozen similar straps fitted with locking buckles. Finally she laid down a stiff but limber tapered switch about five feet long with a braided leather grip at one end and a decorative tassel at the other. With that she at last met my fearful yet eagerly adoring gaze with her solemn and stern green-eyed one.

“Listen well and hear me perfectly now boy. This is what I expect from my secret slave: eternally fervent devotion to me, instant unstinting obedience to my every slightest whim, uncomplaining acceptance of constant bondage and vicious daily discipline, impeccable chore service, and above all endless sexual submission. You will speak only when ordered to and always address me as ‘Goddess’. Is all that understood, slave? Speak!”

“Yes Goddess. Thank you for considering me for this position.”

“Good, slave. I will place you in bondage now. If I find you satisfactory, you will remain bound to one degree or another for the rest of your life. Then I will whip you, and fuck you. If I ever again catch you making eye contact with me, or ogling my body in a manner I consider disrespectful, you will seriously regret it. I now give you one last chance to escape my service. Take it and leave immediately, or submit to my ownership now and for all of eternity.”

Feeling a delicious thrill of incredibly momentous subservience I bowed my head, dropped my eyes to the bed in front of me and remained perfectly docile, still and silent. In response Goddess waited a beat. Then she picked up the gag, pushed the uncomfortably large ball deep into my mouth and buckled and locked the strap tightly about my head. Then she grimly proceeded to take my bodily freedom forever away from me.

She pulled my arms behind my back, and began forcing them into the binder.

This formed a narrow sheath tapering to a point. My hands were placed palm-to-palm flat against each other in this lowest crevice, whereupon the first strap was wound tightly about the outside around my wrists and buckled and locked. I couldn’t even wriggle my fingers. The rest of the sheath then enclosed the rest of my arms, with each successive strap pitilessly tightened until my forearms were bound pressed together to the elbows, and my upper arms pulled into a triangle completed by my painfully stressed shoulders. Gasping at the severe discomfort of this as the final lock clicked shut I waited then in breathless trepidation for the first punishment of my hopefully eternal enslavement to commence.

Goddess picked up the switch. She knelt, boots and all, on the bed next to me. Then using all the power of her formidable upper body she delivered a viciously slashing stroke of the whip across my vulnerable ass.

Of course a day hasn’t gone by in the last decade without Serina beating my bare buttocks with a belt. But this was agony on a truly unprecedented level, causing me to lurch uncontrollably, bite down hard on the ball filling my face and piteously bleat with amazed excruciation. Of course Goddess merely hissed with satisfaction at this, and with an eloquent grunt of effort whipped me again with all her might. For a time I was helpless to measure then she lashed that wickedly thin switch against my ass and the backs of my thighs, until I was wildly writhing and sobbing non-stop. Tears streamed down my face and dripped from my chin, and all the while Goddess panted with both effort and excitement as she strictly disciplined me.

Of course I always carry a large, hard rubber plug in my still otherwise unoccupied ass, something Serina has insisted upon as a necessity for preparing me for my eventual lifetime of submissive sexual service. I was never more aware this intrusion as each slashing stroke of the whip caused me to clamp down upon it involuntarily, and oh how desperately I looked forward to trading it in for Goddess’ surely surpassingly potent penis as she finally eradicated my eager virginity! But of course I had to perforce wait for that ultimate culmination of my purpose in life until Goddess finished my initial discipline; until she considered me sufficiently abject and mind-broken to properly appreciate my surely traumatic and climactic deflowering. And so I clutched that plug with my butt, and the bolster beneath my painfully hard penis with my crotch, sobbing and sniffling and silently praying to my new supreme deity to finally find me worthy of fucking. And eventually of course she did.

Goddess cast down her limber red whip, and returned to her well-stocked closet. When she turned back to me a moment later, I saw through my tear-bleared eyes that she indeed now boasted an erection over three times the size of my own. Of the same shiny red as her bodysuit, and somehow affixed to this at the base of her crotch, Goddess’ ownership organ was exquisitely lifelike from its big pitted head to the upraised veins wrapping its already hefty shaft to the simulated testicles resting against her clitoris. Using a red-gloved fist to slather this enormous penis with lubricant, Goddess addressed me ominously.

“Is it true slave, as your sister has promised me, you remain a virgin in every sense of the word? That you have never been ass-fucked, never had your despicable prick inside anyone or anything, have never even been allowed to masturbate, and indeed have never experienced an orgasm outside of a single wet dream?”

Keeping my eyes properly downcast – indeed unable to tear them away from the sight of that huge red cock about to finally provide me with the ultimate meaning for and sole fulfillment of my existence – I nodded vigorously and truthfully.

“Splendid!” Goddess gloated. “Well slave, in that case I now grant you permission to ejaculate this one time should my expert fucking drive you to climax. After this night you will never be able to ejaculate or even erect again, and I will find your endless, hopeless, desperate deprivation at this so much more satisfying if you actually know what it is you’re missing. How can you properly crave the sublime ecstasy of orgasm, and truly suffer the impossibility of it, if you’ve never really experienced it? In fact I order you to come from this fucking. If you do not, I will have you castrated, unmanned, turned into a transsexual and then expelled forever from my --service. Concentrate on that as I take your precious virginity from you!”

Oh Goddess, as if I needed another ingredient added to the emotional stew already churning within me! Now as well as illimitable arousal and excitement (and only slowly abating agony) I had profound dismay and sheer terror competing for primacy in me at this pronouncement. I actually felt a bit sick at all this as Goddess strode purposefully back over to me. But that didn’t stop me from spreading my legs out wide and cocking my extensively wounded ass upward in eager invitation. Indeed I moaned in mad anticipation when she climbed onto the bed, moved in behind me and began wriggling free the huge plug that filled me. Since big sister Serina first educated me in matters of sex, in the manner in which I was destined to provide satisfaction for superior womanhood, I have been consumed with a wild need for this kind of quintessentially appropriate personal use. Indeed my single wet dream was brought on by an extravagantly compelling fantasy of being serially butt-fucked by an endless parade of massively endowed females before a derisive audience of millions. Faced with the reality of this most necessary experience at last, and the permission, nay absolute command to achieve the apotheosis only briefly realized in sleep, I could hardly believe I didn’t simply explode with the sheer immediacy of the moment. I was practically hyperventilating by the time that stuffing plug was at last wrenched out of me, and then quivering all over in an ague of expectant emptiness. Then Goddess’ strong hands seized me by the hips, her big blunt head made contact with my entrance, and with an exultant cry of triumph she suddenly plunged all of her hard thick length so forcefully up into my gaping hole that my breath was literally knocked out of me – along with all my pitifully naïve preconceptions about this ultimate act of dominance.

The enormous pain of that extreme penetration, the limitless personal diminishment of such consummate possession, the surpassing satisfaction at such an intimately innate need finally being filled were all orders of magnitude more intense than my most fevered imaginings. My squeal of surprised, delighted agony when I finally regained my wind expressed unequivocally my obvious and instant acceptance of everything my ridiculously circumscribed existence entailed if only this indescribably evocative impalement might remain an integral part of it.

Immediately Goddess drew back until only that big ovoid bulb still filled me. Then she rammed the entire ridged thickness of the shaft right back in, eliciting another ecstatic squeal from me. All the way out and then all the way in, again and again she drove her enormous organ up to the hilt into my formerly virginal receptacle, redundantly demonstrating her power and proficiency as I slobbered and squealed and mindlessly wallowed in my new and enduring identity as a slutty little recipient for her divine sexual aggression.

She fucked me; oh she fucked me and fucked me and fucked my needy, greedy ass like a pneumatic hammer bludgeoning its unstoppable way into the very core of my being. My bound, pinned down and incessantly drilled body slipped constantly back and forth on that supporting bolster wholly at the whim of her insistent rhythm, my own crushed and insanely stimulated rigidity sliding swiftly to and fro against that slippery silk with a first-time-ever friction that quickly went far beyond simply heavenly.

As Goddess’ bone-hard, foot-long, wrist-thick prick stabbed so brutally up into me, as her rapidly slapping crotch belabored my bruised and welted buttocks, as her own shrieks of ecstatic effort climbed apace and her supreme suzerainty so undeniably made itself felt I soon lapsed into a drooling delirium of utterly subsuming sensation and maddening emotional overload. Taking the unconscious experience of this as the entirety of my being, I was no longer a man, a person, or even a slave, but merely an insentient thing existing solely to be so wantonly and absolutely used. In this exclusively present-focused state time ceased to have all meaning for me, and it could have been one hour or ten that I writhed on the rack of my agonized ecstasy as my sublimely divine owner had her exhaustive fill of me. But finally the endless waves of pleasure-pain inundating me began to crest in a veritable tsunami of screaming hammering drilling as Goddess soared toward the most climactic, orgiastic succession of orgasms yet. And carried along like helpless flotsam, I suddenly experienced an unprecedented apotheosis of my own.

At the most seemingly unendurable peak of physical and psychological sensation my madly churning groin began to violently convulse. Every iota of my awareness concentrated itself in my unacquainted genitals before suddenly exploding through me and out of me in a series of wrenching spasms as mindlessly reflexive as life itself. Gasping and gibbering uncomprehendingly I rode out these throes in a shuddering paroxysm even as Goddess’ apocalyptic shrieks climbed endless octaves and she somehow delivered the most frenzied succession of deeply spearing ass-stabs yet. And then at last reality returned to me.

Goddess halted her unremitting assault on my body and psyche and finally withdrew her monstrous hardness from the abysmally aching cavity she’d just created in me. I suddenly became aware of a sticky wetness between the skin of my abdomen and the slick silk of the bolster, and realized that my last erection ever had inexplicably lapsed into flaccidity. Then without warning I was seized and rolled over, off of that supporting cylinder and onto my side. Panting explosively through my nose I looked on in dumb surprise as Goddess triumphantly pointed out the several thick smears of gooey slime soaking into the bolster.

“There, you see? You’ve just had your first and last orgasm!

“I really ought to make you suck and lick up the mess you made. But I have no intention of removing that gag until sometime tomorrow. As you have just earned an eternity of service as my hidden secret slave, I will be relieving you of your ability to erect or ejaculate first thing in the morning. You will need that ball to bite down on then. I will have to pierce the bottom of your scrotum, and the head of your penis. Through these piercings will be threaded a pair of linked steel rings, preventing your cock from ever raising its naughty head again. Any attempted erection after that will surely cause you so much agony that your arousal will be swiftly banished, and you can serve me in the purity of unwilling chastity forever. Nevertheless, you must be properly shamed for soiling my silk. Crawl over here and rub your face in this mess slave, until your lips and cheeks are thoroughly slimed with your only ever ejaculate.”

Thrilled beyond measure at the news of my success and yet equally horrified at both its immediate and enduring price, I forced myself to obey my imperious Goddess. Then once I was humiliatingly decorated with the disgusting evidence of my depravity Goddess turned yet again to her closet, and selected a further array of restraints for me.

Methodically she laid these out on the bed next to me: four rather short, stout belts of wide black leather and one much longer one, each of these drilled with dual rows of holes and double prongs for securing them; a curious little three-ringed shackle of steel, a short length of heavy steel chain and a sturdy brass padlock. Thus supplied she began to put me in far more restrictive bondage than that uncompromising arm-binder already provided.

First she replaced my habitual butt-plug, once again stuffing full my ass, although not nearly to its new capacity. Then she set to work restraining me for the night. Each of the shorter belts was used to secure my legs tightly together, one about the ankles, one about my welted thighs just below the buttocks, and the other two just above and below my knees. Next Goddess bent my legs back until my calves were pressed tightly against my thighs before using that longer belt to bind them thus, preventing an even incremental extension of my legs. Then she picked up the brass padlock, and that shiny little shackle.

The two larger rings of this, set closely side-by-side, were tightened about the base of my two big toes, securing them together. Then Goddess slipped the hasp of the padlock through the third ring before seizing me by the arm-binder. She pulled this back, drawing my chest up off the bed until she could slip that hasp through an identical ring set in the very tip of the sheath as well. With that she closed the lock, leaving me painfully hogtied fingers to toes, with my back cruelly bowed and my terribly aching shoulders stressed worse than ever. Finally then she took that short length of chain and connected its first link to the lock securing the buckling strap of the ball-gag at the back of my head. With that accomplished she used that chain to draw my head back to the fullest extent of my neck, whereupon she locked the other end to the uppermost strap of the arm-binder, imprisoning me in that acutely stressful spinal contortion.

Having restrained me to her satisfaction then Goddess seized me by the arm-binder and the belt about my legs and effortlessly picked me up, carrying me off the bed and setting me down on the floor a few feet away.

“Now slave, you must be stored in your specialized sleeping compartment/hiding place, until I need you again. This is where you’ll remain whenever you’re not in use, or whenever I might have visitors apt to discover you. You are to be my secret slave: no one knows of my possession of you but your sister, who has assured me that she has already dismissed you from her awareness. No one knows that you are here, and no one ever will.”

Goddess felt around the base of the bed, and finding a hidden seam in the thick shag carpet she drew it back, revealing a polished oak floor. One board of this, perhaps five feet long and less than two wide, was set with a recessed iron ring and a series of thick sliding bolts, two of these on each of the four sides. Goddess slipped free the bolts, and seizing the ring lifted the inch-thick board away, exposing a concealed compartment the same dimensions as the lid and perhaps a foot and a half deep. One end of this recess was perforated by a grid of little holes to allow ventilation and a larger hole, perhaps six inches wide and deep and lined with a stainless steel sleeve was set into the floor. Grinning with sadistic relish, Goddess lifted me again and lowered me into this cramped, coffin-like space – though surely no coffin could be so small.

My legs fit in easily enough, with my genitals dangling into that recessed hole. But my captor was forced to shove my torso repeatedly down, until my belly met the wood and my shoulders were wedged tightly against the sides. Staring forward at those ventilating holes, assailed by a sudden bout of claustrophobia, I suddenly tried struggling, only to find that I was only able to wriggle my bound legs a bit, and twist my head fractionally to either side. Then Goddess denied me even this possibility. She packed a thick quilt tightly atop my lower body and between it and the sides of the compartment. Then she packed a smaller one about my head, stopping my hearing and any ability to shift about and leaving only the front of my ball-gagged face free to face the wood barely an inch away. If she had any parting words for me then I knew it not, as she set the heavy lid back in place, socked home those eight sturdy bolts and replaced the carpet, sealing me painfully hogtied, naked and confined totally immobile in soundless pitch-black darkness, until she saw fit to make use of me again.

Hot and Cold Running Cocks

I arrive at Mistress’ house only five minutes early for my weekly appointment. But when she opens the door in response to my knock, her big, heavy-lidded eyes are puffy and only half open, and she’s wearing just an expensive silk bathrobe. Still mostly asleep or not though, she’s absolutely stunning as always.

A slender black girl of average height, her skin is remarkably light. Yet there’s no mistaking her African heritage, thanks to her big soft lips (which perform unimaginable fellatio upon me in scandalously inappropriate dreams) and her absolutely amazing hair. This is wound in incredible dreads that while forming long bangs over her forehead are piled and knotted at her crown only to fall luxuriously down to the small of her back behind her. Molded sweetly against that tightly belted robe, her breasts are small, the size of ripe pomegranates, and yet beautifully round and deliciously pointy. Indeed their large nipples are clearly defined against that thin white silk, and as usual I find myself trembling with awe and reverence to be once again in her divine presence. My voice shakes a bit, as does the bouquet in my hand as I greet her with utmost love and respect and hold forth the flowers I’ve brought for her.

“Good evening Mistress, my beautifully holy and wholly irreplaceable Goddess. I’d like to come in and submit to you now please. But I fear I may have arrived at the incorrect time.”

“No you haven’t,” she answers dismissively before yawning. She takes the proffered bouquet ($59.95 at the local florist) and without even glancing at it she tosses it absently over the porch railing, where it joins the wilted and withered remains of my previous offerings in a pile by the driveway. “I’m not ready to enjoy you yet, but no matter. I’ve got something special planned for tonight, and the wait will give you a chance to get appropriately heated up for me. Leave your clothes out here as always, and then march without speaking into the Domination Room. I will be waiting for you.

These instructions are superfluous of course. I am never allowed into Mistress’ house unless I’m naked, nor am I allowed to speak in there unless ordered to. Thankful that her long, curving drive and the many trees dotting her professionally landscaped grounds shield me from passers-by, I quickly strip. Then I enter the house. Pulling the door shut behind me (it locks automatically, imprisoning me in Mistress’ domain until she’s had her fill of and expels me) I pad silently over lush carpeting until I reach the expansive and inventively stocked Domination Room. There I’m greeted by bare, polished hardwood floor and infinitely repeating images of both my naked body and the many either medieval or futuristic devices for torture, restraint and subjugation scattered around. These are cast by the four mirrored walls, and the carefully placed spotlights that accentuate each diabolical piece of equipment also gleam off the shiny steel chastity device that both prevents and torments my woeful attempted erection.

Mistress locked this onto me as a precondition of our relationship, and she holds the only key. Since that chilling moment over five months ago I haven’t experienced a single orgasm, complete erection, or any physical arousal free from exquisite pain and frustration. It is understood that as long as our association endures, I never will.

Even worse, Mistress holds forth the threat of expelling me from her service without first releasing my penis should I ever offend her, fail to satisfy her least expectation or seek to leave her service under terms she doesn’t approve of. And yet despite this terrible deprivation I remain hopelessly enthralled by her: desperately consumed by unrequited love, burning with lust forever conventionally unconsecrated and madly addicted to her incredibly punishing use and abuse. Spotting her occupied in a far corner, I approach her with my mouth dry, my palms sweating, my heart in my throat and my cock an agonizingly cramped and compacted mass that throbs urgently in its ever-worsening, downright torturous confinement.

As I reach her I see that Mistress is busy with an arcane, hitherto unnoticed apparatus.

This is basically a saddle, complete with adjustable stirrups and mounted over a complex mass of machinery and electronics. Jutting up from the middle of the curved seat is about five inches of a thick, shiny steel dildo. Mistress is just finishing heavily lubing this with a red-speckled gel. Carefully stripping off a heavy rubber work glove she turns, and favors me with one of her rare, dazzling smiles. This expression rarely bodes well for me, and I quickly learn that tonight is going to be no different.

“Well slave, in addition to your usual extensive discipline, tonight I shall introduce you to my ‘hot and cold running cocks’. This is the Shockingly Hot Cock. Climb up onto the saddle here, insert my penis in your ass and sit down upon it.”

Profoundly uneasy (and yet still as uncontrollably excited as ever) I comply. The moment the glistening tip of that two-inch thick dildo touches my anus though I draw back reflexively with a gasp of pain, and immediately grasp the necessity of that glove. The gel she’s used as a lube burns me like fire!

“That’s right slave!” Mistress giggles gleefully at me. “Not only is that the strongest mentholated ointment they make, I’ve mixed it with my own concoction of ground cayenne, jalapeno and habanera peppers, Tabasco sauce, and horseradish juice. Now get down on it, before I destroy the key to your cock-lock, plug the keyhole with melted lead and throw your worthless ass out of my life!”

Gulp! Wincing and hissing, I pull my nether opening wide and push it down onto that fiery steel cylinder, crying out helplessly as it stretches me, fills me painfully up and sets the tender, blood and nerve-rich flesh of my rectum seemingly ablaze with agony. Right away Mistress ensures that rising from that uncompromising spike of fire is not an option. Using two sets of high-tensile steel handcuffs, she shackles my arms together behind me at both the wrists and elbows, painfully straining my shoulders. Then with a much smaller steel fetter she locks my thumbs tightly together before pulling my arms back and snapping that shackle to a ring on the back of the saddle, securing me sitting upright at attention with my cramped shoulders back and my chest thrust forward. After that she settles my feet into the stirrups and binds them there with a series of locking-buckle straps. Then she begins turning a crank, drawing those stirrups down and out to either side, until my legs are stretched painfully out wide – maximizing the pressure of gravity and that burning steel cock on my penetrated center – and so far down that my crotch is snubbed so tightly to the saddle that I can’t rise up or even shift in my seat in the slightest.

Still giggling at my futile squirming and pathetic whimpering, Mistress next wedges a two inch-diameter steel ring-gag between my teeth and buckles it tightly in place, preventing me from closing my uncomfortably sprung jaws. Two further, smaller steel rings already pierce my nipples – another body modification Mistress insisted upon as a precondition – and she promptly hangs heavy lead weights from these, dragging my pierced, thrust-out tits painfully down. And yet still she’s barely begun preparing my suffering.

From the machinery below me Mistress draws out four insulated wires ending in alligator clips. She pinches one of these onto each of my stretched-out nipples, further magnifying their agony, and then attaches a third to the incredibly sensitive tip of my penis, where its painfully bloated head protrudes from the bottom of the tight, spike-lined chastity sleeve. This is excruciation so far unprecedented for me. And yet still one clip remains…

“Stick out your tongue, slave,” Mistress orders me, grinning meaningfully at me. And so with a sob of resigned dread I steel myself and then poke it as far as possible out through that gagging ring. Naturally she attaches that last clip to its very tip. Then she moves to a control console on the side of this monstrous device and begins casually tapping keys.

Right away the big hard cock I’m impaled upon, which is already a fiery agony to me, grows hotter still as it’s heated from within. Then its thick length starts to vibrate violently, compounding these thermal effects to a degree that is both amazing and surely unendurable – or so it seems. But then with a further flurry of keys that cruel steel cock suddenly delivers a sustained, walloping jolt of electricity over its entire surface. This is accompanied of course by additional agonizing shocks to my stretched and pinched nipples and the tips of my tender, bloated penis-head and conductively wet tongue.

Immediately I scream in shocked, appalled excruciation, shuddering all over in an autonomic ague that lasts for perhaps fifteen seconds – as long as that hellish current sizzles into me anyway. Laughing lustily and clapping her hands in delighted appreciation Mistress waits until this convulsion abates and then addresses me.

“That was just a forerunner. You’ve got a whole lot more coming. I’ve programmed those shocks to be of random occurrence and duration for you slave, so you’ll never know when they’re coming or how long they’re going to last. I think my Shockingly Hot Cock should get you plenty warmed up for me while I’m busy eating, bathing, and getting myself ready for tonight’s excellent session don’t you? Oh wait, silly me! I almost forgot the most important feature of this device. I couldn’t dream of depriving you of what you truly live for!”

With a devilish smile and theatrical flourish then Mistress hits one last key. And suddenly that burning, vibrating steel cock stabs brutally up into my body, another six inches deep at least. Immediately it begins hammering all the way in and out of me, fucking my already insanely traumatized ass at sewing machine speeds even as my five most sensitive, erogenous spots are again assailed with an even longer stream of current than earlier. Laughing once again at my shuddering, screaming, whole body paroxysms as I’m hot-cock-shocked, my sexy Mistress winks at me, blows a big wet kiss and calls out mockingly as she turns and strolls leisurely across the Domination Room toward the door.

“See you in an hour or two, slave! Enjoy the ride while I’m gone!”

***

Oh sure – enjoy the ride! At last the electricity stops thrumming through me, and I blink my teary gaze clear. The door has clicked shut and locked behind Mistress, and I’m left alone to ponder what would become of me should she simply leave, or even slip in the bath and break her neck. Of course there’s really no question: I would remain here locked, shocked and machine-fucked by her cock until I died, and someone eventually discovered my still shuddering, endlessly penis-pummeled body. This possibility doesn’t bear considering, and so I concentrate instead on the infinite reflections of my terrible predicament in the surrounding mirrored walls.

Seen from multiple angles, my poor bound and wired-up body is the quintessential picture of miserable suffering. Shaking wildly with the force of those remorselessly hammering dick-thrusts, saliva already slickening my chin and depending down from my clamped and protruding tongue, tears leaking from my red-rimmed eyes and liberally streaking my cheeks, with my arms bent radically back behind me and me and my stiffly upright posture thrusting my cruelly ornamented chest out, I look as tortured and pathetic as could be imagined. And then the current suddenly jolts me again, and I twist and flop and scream inarticulate agony for at least thirty seconds before it finally once again abates.

By now drool has dribbled from my chin down onto the head of my imprisoned penis, assisting the electrical conduction to such a degree that this most excruciating conduit for the current has become even more susceptible. Sobbing in aftermath and waiting in terrified dread for the next unpredictable jolt, I focus again on my reflections, seeking to find in this appalling view the masochistic frisson that I’ve lately become so addicted to.

Of course it goes without saying that part of me enjoys my suffering. I wouldn’t be here if it didn’t. But what I enjoy about it, what truly makes it not only worthwhile but unbearably exciting, is having Mistress here actively inflicting it. She is so divinely beautiful, so sublimely sexy – and I am so patently unworthy of her – that any kind of interaction between us at all is desperately welcome. And since I am so unworthy, being pitilessly punished by Mistress feels not only appropriate but supremely satisfying to my self-despising, deep inner conviction of inferiority. This is especially true in the case of sex.

What I want more than anything in the world of course is to fuck my gorgeous Mistress. But since this idea is so ridiculous as to be laughable, nothing could be more condign than to have her fucking me instead.

The pain and shame of being cruelly restrained while she demonstrates her illimitable contempt for me by brutally pounding her cock into my agonized yet gratefully accepting ass is so incredibly evocative and necessary for my twisted psyche that I’ve willingly sacrificed not only my own sexual function but practically my entire personal autonomy in return for it.

It is the ultimate interpersonal exchange between us, the defining statement of our asymmetric relationship. Hearing her pant and moan and ridicule me as she takes her selfish pleasure, screaming out her repeated orgasms while spitefully denying me any possibility of my own; feeling the grip of her hands on my hips and the constant slapping of her crotch against my buttocks as she stabs ever more viciously into me validates my conception of myself in ways I can’t begin to adequately articulate. Yet here she is denying me all of that. I’m currently being buggered harder and faster than I could ever have dreamed possible with the most punishing cock conceivable. And yet without the redeeming grace of that most essential emotional component this inflicts nothing but terrible suffering on me. Likewise the utter helplessness and profound discomfort of my bondage, and the incredible agony of the electricity torturing me, are pitilessly impersonal. Without Mistress here to laugh and sneer and take her richly sadistic pleasure in administering my suffering that’s all it is: simple if terrible suffering.

Again the electricity courses into me, scorching my stretched-out nipples, my burned and bludgeoned rectum and the diabolically wet and sensitive tips of my tongue and penis. Writhing wildly, I try desperately I try to imagine Mistress smugly contemplating my suffering as she indulgently breaks her fast; or lounging languidly in her deep marble tub, singularly dwelling on my agony and chuckling to herself as she slowly soaps her slender limbs, flawless skin and big-nippled, delectably round little breasts.

Perhaps even now she’s ecstatically pleasuring herself, holding the detachable showerhead between her splayed-out legs and directing its hot, pulsating spray against her unbearably saintly privates as she frantically fingers herself to the thought of my exquisitely tormented situation. But no: I know Mistress far too well for that. Surely she has dismissed me from all consideration as she mundanely goes about her day. I don’t rate nearly as highly for her as the simple routines of sustenance and cleanliness. Utterly forgotten for the present (this endless, excruciating present) I am left to endure my interminable torment alone without even the imaginary acknowledgment of my beloved Mistress to give it meaning and transform it into the only kind of personal fulfillment available to such as me. And so I summon all of my determined devotion and steel myself to merely endure this trial she has seen fit to inflict on me.

With no clock available to watch, I can measure the duration of my lonely perdition only by the steadily increasing strain on my contorted shoulders, the unpredictable intervals between ever more interminable, excruciating infusions of electricity into my erogenous zones, and most of all by the relentless, pounding, thrice-a-second blows of that burning hot, twelve-by-two inch hard steel cock skewering up into my helpless ass from below. Finally however, a few hours or a hundred million eons later, I hear Mistress’ key inserted and turned in the door to the Domination Room’s lock. Nearly swooning with relief I watch that door swing open, and my mischievously grinning Mistress enter at last.

Oh, my precious love! She is a sight to make the angels weep, and the demons grind their teeth and snap their tridents in infuriated envy! Her heavenly loveliness is so devilishly accentuated by her sexy outfit that my heart both races and breaks, and my hopelessly enslaved soul reaches desperately out to her in limitless love, desire, and infinitely worshipful reverence. As she slinks her grinning way toward me her shining black stiletto-heeled shoes click loudly against that polished wood floor. They raise her height by four inches or more and emphasize every well-toned muscle and elegant line of her absolutely smashing legs. Tightly woven fishnet stockings, black against her very light brown-colored skin, encase those slim, perfect limbs to exactly mid-thigh. Matching fingerless gloves cover her hands and wrists, and black as well is the small leather corset pinching in her midriff and beautifully contrasting the exquisite curves of her lyre-like hips and (oh, thank you, Goddess!) completely bare sweet breasts. Coiled in one fist is a madly familiar whip of braided black leather, and bound about her otherwise naked crotch are the black leather straps of a strange new dildo harness.

Curiously enough, no punishingly large erection juts intimidatingly out from this. Instead, set into the gleaming black base plate in its place sits a raised, empty cavity perhaps two inches in diameter and one inch deep, threaded inside with spiral grooves.

Clearly this is a socket just waiting to accept the attachment of the obligatory cock however. So despite the indescribable agony already inflicted on my endlessly vibrated, relentlessly bludgeoned, and chemically, mechanically, and electrically burned rectum, I silently bless my wonderfully potent Mistress and look desperately forward to the prospect of once again finally having her sexually use me in her own inimitable, illimitable, gloriously appropriate and fundamentally rewarding manner. Bursting into fresh tears (these of gratitude, love and relief) at the vision of this playfully vengeful deity finally approaching me, I consider my recent eternity in electrical Abaddon well spent for having finally brought me to the brink of that paradisiacal moment. Even as the hellish current once again galvanizes me into shuddering agony on my so intimately bound and powerfully penetrating perch, I bask in the glory of Mistress’ renewed blessed presence like a mindless plant bathed once again in the rays of a live-giving sun. Oh, how this glorious Goddess renews and completes me!

“Hello slave. Are you sufficiently warmed up for me yet?”

Shuddering wildly and drooling all over myself, I nod immediately, adding an agonized plea-squeal for emphasis. Mistress leans over and reaches for the control console and then pauses, cocking a mocking eyebrow significantly at me.

“Are you sure, my foolish slave? Maybe you’d rather sit there all night, while I go out and get drunk and laid for eight or ten hours, like I just did last night. Wouldn’t that be better than just having me whip and fuck you all evening yet again?”

Frantically I shake my head, my keening whimper broken into stutters by the steel cock pounding into me and the electrically-induced convulsions wracking my body. Grinning, Mistress considers this for several interminable seconds before at last relenting.

“Very well, slave. Maybe I’ll leave you locked on the Shockingly Hot Cock while I spend the night in some well-hung stud’s bed another time. Or maybe I’ll let you sit there suffering and watch as he gets to do to me all those things you never will right in front of you. I think that sounds like exactly what I need. Tonight though we have unfinished business, and it’d be a shame to waste those two and a half hours you just spent preparing for it. Here you go.”

At last Mistress taps in the necessary command, and all at once the shocks stop searing into me and that burning, vibrating penis finally stops hammering up my ass and withdraws completely from me. Swaying and whimpering still, I slump as much as my enforced upright posture allows and pant raggedly in immeasurable relief as Mistress, humming happily to herself, detaches the wired clips from me. Involuntarily I sob at the renewed rush of blood to those exquisitely pained areas, and when she next releases my thumbs and feet and drags me from that saddle I collapse helplessly to the floor.

“Come on slave,” Mistress chides me, hooking a hand under one of my still bound and cramped upper arms and pulling me after her. “Let’s get you on the next piece of equipment while you’re still burning hot for me.”

***

This device consists of a short, low bench centered on a padded mat perhaps eight feet square. On one side of this bench an arrangement of locking shackles are bolted to the mat. On the other sits another, smaller motorized contraption, from which an adjustable, piston-equipped armature juts out. Fixed to the end of this arm is another big dildo, this one of hard, flesh-colored rubber. Dragging me crawling piteously after her over to this, still ring-gagged and with my arms cuffed behind me and my pierced nipples still trailing heavy lead weights, Mistress positions me kneeling before that bench and facing that menacing, motorized cock.

Spreading my knees wide and my ankles wider, she locks me onto the mat at all four points with the shackles provided. Then she bends me rudely over the bench, so that my belly rests on the wood and my chest and head hang over it parallel to the floor. Now the attached weights dangle straight down from my nipples, pulling their screaming piercings in a new direction. Still swinging lazily about, these constantly exacerbate the suffering in those tender, burned, stretched-out buds. Suddenly Mistress grips a fistful of my hair. She yanks my head all the way up and back, aligning my mouth and throat and bringing me face to face with that big jutting dildo. Adjusting its piston-equipped arm, she moves that fearsome cock forward until she can insert it through the ring-gag and push it deep into my mouth, where I gag helplessly on it until I finally manage to quell my always mutinous palate.

Of course Mistress has already used her many cocks to fuck my face countless times in the past five months. Forcing me to humbly suck her on her big erect penis while she spews all kinds of degrading invective at me, and then gripping my head tightly between her hands and brutally slamming its length endlessly down my gagging throat is almost as perversely rewarding to us both as her shoving me down and violently buggering my tight little ass. But given my still-fresh experience with motorized pricks just past, I’m under no illusions that what shortly lies in store for me will be in any way comparable. Nor am I particularly keen to put the ordeal to the test. But fortunately Mistress doesn’t immediately start up that looming motor. Instead she trails a hand lightly along my back (covered everywhere by the healing marks and older scars of her many implements and whips) and moves to a small freezer standing nearby. There she pulls on a pair of oven mitts, opens the door on a cloud of frost and starts rummaging within it.

“Remember slave,” she reminds me, a tremor of excitement sharpening her voice, “I said I have both hot and cold running cocks in store for you tonight. So first you got the Shockingly Hot Cock. And I trust both its effects and the residual mentholated-pepper lube in you still have your poor little rectum in truly flaming pain. Well, now you get the Twice as Nice Ice Cock, the opposite effect of which should be a beautiful balm and bliss for you – at least at first. We’ll see how you feel about it after a few minutes though. You might just change your mind real fast…”

Mistress turns around and holds this up, once again giggling delightedly at my shocked, goggling reaction. The first inch of this monstrous penis is a base of threaded black plastic, fully two inches thick and clearly designed to fit into the insulated socket mounted on her crotch. The rest of it – all eleven inches and just as big around – is indeed composed of clear, sparkling, diamond-hard ice. Molded to be perfectly life-like right up the vein-ridged shaft to the bulbous, slightly up-turned head, this exquisite cast is as elegantly beautiful as it is terrifyingly threatening. Still giggling excitedly to herself, Mistress carefully screws this incredible phallus in place, where it shortly juts far out from her protected groin, still whitely smoking in the warm air of the room. Then she strips off her mitts, steps over to that waiting motor and switches it on.

Immediately her hard rubber organ plunges to the hilt into my still amazed face, penetrating deep into my throat before sliding rapidly all the way back and then all the way in again, commencing a mechanized face-fucking that is as unendurably swift and violent as my worst suppositions. Then as I gag and strangle and fight for breath, as the tears again begin streaming down my face and the drool pools and spills over my lower lip, Mistress moves around behind me, kneels on the mat between my spread and locked down legs and seizes my hips with her usual pitiless grip. Then even as I’m still struggling to accommodate myself to that relentless once-a-second assault on my esophagus, she presses the huge, freezing head of her ice-penis firmly against my still stretched-open, painfully burning anus. Then aided by that residual mentholated-pepper lube and the first bare wetness of melt she uses all the force of her powerful hips and lithe young body to slam that entire long, thick, frozen bone up into my already extensively traumatized insides.

Truly this is indeed balm and bliss at first, and not just to my painfully enflamed, badly burned and abraded rectum. My whole enslaved soul has been pining unimaginably for this transcendent moment all week. Finally I’m being fucked by my desperately beloved Mistress; the perverted, diametrically inverted carnal consummation I live and suffer so extensively for is at hand (and in ass) at last! Stuffing me so fulsomely full of painfully humiliating penis and righteously contemptuous condemnation, Mistress exercises her divine right of dominance over me with even more than her usual overwhelming force and masterful proficiency.

Following that first effortlessly impaling and so consequentially claiming butt-thrust with a deliciously slippery withdrawal and deeply stabbing re-entry, she immediately initiates her habitual endless succession of incredibly punishing penetrations with more violence and vigor than she’s ever demonstrated before.

Clearly determined to make the most of this necessarily ephemeral occasion, she obviously wants to pack all the ecstatic energy and sexual superiority she usually displays over hours of vicious sodomy into the unfortunately limited time available to her before her frigid phallus finally melts away. Ever more closely approaching the mechanically pneumatic power and rapidity of the other penis simultaneously fucking my face, Mistress pours everything she has into hammering my ass, her panting breath whistling in and out and her guttural grunts of urgent effort sounding increasingly feral in their unbridled savagery.

As for me, it doesn’t take long indeed for the balm and bliss of that cylindrical icicle on my heat-ravaged rectum to be replaced by a torture more extreme than before in its unremitting intensity. Ecstasy and relief soon turn to discomfort, then pain, then an increasingly unbearable agony, as that frozen cold penetrates and them swiftly pervades my entire system. Even when that icy agony is finally replaced by numbness in those most sensitive and affected tissues, I still find myself shivering even more uncontrollably than when at the mercy of that torturous electricity. Galvanic shudders wrack me constantly, and my jaws begin to ache fiercely from the fruitless attempts of my teeth to chatter. Though I’ve finally subdued my body’s autonomic gagging on the cock plunging so swiftly and forcefully in and out of my esophagus, that relentless throat-fucking continues to take an ever increasing toll on me as well. Between that unremitting frontal assault and my growing hypothermia I’ve soon lost any sense of pleasure in this experience. Even the sickly compelling excitement of Mistress’ runaway arousal and domineering brutality as she so emphatically puts me in my proper place can’t compete with my mounting physical distress, and I sob and shake pathetically in my pitiless bondage.

Of course, the exuberant violence of Mistress’ ass-smacking rhythm constantly jarring my body keeps those dangling weights swinging wildly about, yanking endlessly on my pierced, badly abused nipples. Marbled all over with gooseflesh, maddeningly tickled by the non-stop trickling of melt-water down my naked thighs, all these accumulating torments eventually have me existing moment by horribly stretched-out moment, desperately enduring mindlessly until at last this diabolical ordeal might finally come to an end.

Fortunately the immutable laws of physics are on my side. Gradually I sense the prodigious size of the agonizingly cold erection driving so violently into me begin to slowly diminish. Both the heat of my extensively peppered rectum and the friction of our maniacally possessed intercourse work methodically to wear it down. And by the time Mistress ecstatically screams and hammers out a second succession of multiple orgasms, the gelid cock she’s so wildly fucking me with is down to half its original size – hardly worth using on a pathologically addicted ass-slave like me. Finally it suddenly snaps off from its base on Mistress’ crotch altogether, and at last she’s obliged to call a reluctant halt to this most insidious expression of domination ever. With her limitlessly sadistic energies far from depleted though, Mistress quickly makes it clear that the evening’s fun has barely begun. Why, we haven’t even been fucking for an hour yet! Leaving the glacial remains of her ice-cock still lodged deep in my ass to slowly finish melting on its own, and her other big hard rubber boner still pneumatically pounding itself relentlessly down my throat, she stands, moves around to my side and deliberately shakes out the long, snaking lash of her bullwhip.

“Well, my incredibly hungry-butt slave, I hope you enjoyed that first fuck. Now it’s time for some more traditional discipline though. But don’t worry baby. I’ve still got six more Twice as Nice Ice Cocks put by to use to destruction on you tonight. But first I’m going to wear myself out with the whip, then put you back on the Shockingly Hot Cock while I have a few drinks and recover. Then it starts all over again. We are going to alternate beatings with the hot and cold running cocks until the last one has finally melted away. Then I’ll consider this week’s session over, and expel you from my blessed presence. So here we go!”

The whip whistles and cracks, tearing excruciatingly into my ass. Still chilled to (and from) the bone, wracked non-stop by helpless shivering, I sob harder than ever around the cock drilling my mouth, appalled and horrified beyond belief at the debt still yet to be paid for this precious time with my beloved. Only one small bit of dubious relief is afforded to me. Thanks to that terribly penetrating chill and my many other accumulating miseries, my usual painfully raging and unbearably frustrating mini-erection is no longer anywhere in evidence.

Nocturnal Submissions

I know for a fact that this is a dream. Despite being deeply asleep I recognize its regular recurrence. Indeed I have this dream nearly every night, and as always I greet it eagerly. I can’t believe my luck at being with Mistress yet again.

This is the only name I have for her, and the only name she needs. My ultimate dream Mistress is some kind of mythical super-being, with attributes that are both elastic (more on that later) and impossible for a flesh and blood female. To start with she’s always between eight and ten feet tall. Dressed only in skin-tight black stiletto-heeled latex leggings that climb to mid-thigh and matching gauntlets that rise to her biceps, her body is an absolute caricature of feminine desirability. Wherever it’s not covered her sleek white skin seems to glow with an intrinsic luminescence. Her feet and waist are comparatively tiny, the legs between slender at first but then swelling muscularly into enormous buttocks and lyre-like hips, with her heavenly crotch completely bare of all hair. Not a hint of discernable stubble sullies her anywhere. Above that hourglass waist her tapered midriff is impossibly slender, especially considering the humungous size of the breasts just above.

Nearly a meter in diameter, these identical, grossly swollen globes are perfectly round and beautifully bouncy, as firm as medicine balls and yet as yielding as water balloons. The nipples topping their perky peaks are as lusciously red as her thick-thick lips, with conical aureoles as big as both of my fists. Jauntily up-tilted, the pointy tips of these are stiff and rubbery and as long and thick as my own big toe. The features of her looming face are no less extraordinary: huge, spacious, brightly sparkling blue-blue eyes over a cute pug nose and that incredibly lush, widely smiling mouth. Her hair is a shining sable mass so full and lengthy you get lost in it, but it’s that beguilingly beautiful face that always captivates me. It perfectly expresses her always gleefully ebullient personality as she dominates me, that wholly unconscious supreme confidence that she doesn’t need any force or intimidation to get what she wants from me. Simply being who she is, this is always more than enough to ensure my eager prostration before her. She can concentrate entirely on wildly enjoying every instant of every expression of her delightfully sadistic personality, every excitedly aggressive sexual excess that she’s driven to perform on me. No matter how damaging or demeaning, these can only make me worship her more, forging an endlessly escalating feedback loop connecting our perfectly complementary natures and needs. And so the latest round of our constantly repeating symbiosis between domination and subjugation begins again.

Naked I’m kneeling before her, gazing up at this luscious behemoth with rapturous awe. From hidden behind her back her right hand comes out, revealing a perforated ironwood paddle at least five feet long and one foot wide, as black as her hair and as hard as diamonds.

“Assume the position, slave!” she cheerfully cries, a zealous excitement gleaming in her eyes. Right away I eagerly comply. Turning away from her, I bend forward like a Muslim at prayer, my face and arms pressed flat to the floor in front and my upraised behind presented expectantly for punishment. My erect cock throbs in rhythm with my madly devoted heart and I beg my Mistress with all of my utmost sincerity for her usual brutal butt battering.

“Oh please, my glorious Mistress, beat me with all your might! Punish me as extravagantly as possible! I live to be your helpless sycophant!”

“Yes you do!” she cries right back. “You exist only for my pleasure! And now I’m going to take that pleasure until I’m absolutely sated!”

Air shrieks through the holes in that inch-thick paddle, and the crack of it against my eager ass is an explosion of bliss I can barely contain. Pain is pleasure and pleasure pain; all emotion and sensation the same. Giggling with delighted excitement she swings again, not once or twice but a hundred, a thousand times, never tiring, thrilled beyond imagining to be endlessly belaboring my willingly proffered-up buttocks. Through all of it I bless her again and again for choosing me, honored beyond all measure to be the recipient of her supremely sadistic attentions. And of course this is only foreplay, and merely the first stage of it at that.

After uncounted eons of being beaten this way, I’m suddenly grabbed by the ankles and hauled upside down into the air. Mistress wraps those ankles with a rope, which she loops over a hook descending from some unseen heaven. Quickly my wrists are shackled with steel, and an enormous iron ball hung from them. Stretched incredibly out head down, I watch with wildly aroused anticipation as Mistress unlimbers a snaking bullwhip as long as an anaconda and incisively thin as a live wire. She shakes this out and snaps it in the air, the sinuous hiss and explosive crack electrifying us both. And then she goes joyously to work on me with it.

Constantly circling my dangling, twisting, agonizingly elongated body, she slashes her lacerating lash into my helpless flesh from all sides, tearing overlapping seams in my skin until it seems certain I must eventually just disintegrate along those million livid lines. And all the time, over the whistling and smacking of the whip cutting through the air and slicing into me; even over my endless ecstatic screams of excruciation, I can hear her laughing like a tickled-pink child at her favorite celebration. The clear, uncomplicated tenor of her innocent glee at torturing me is almost as fulfilling for me as the supremely deserved agony I’m suffering. I truly just exist to be whipped, to be sanctioned for all eternity by a justly vengeful femininity. Thousands of millennia of innate male evil must be answered for, and it is my awesome privilege to provide the most appropriate possible outlet for my Mistress-Empress-Goddess-Queen’s divine retribution. All of the women who have ever lived and died and strived and suffered under an unconscionably brutish masculine hand are embodied in this giant potentate, and by eagerly accepting all of their combined judgment and punishment I’m finally allowed to assuage my ancestral guilt.

Of course the ultimate acts of payback, the true proofs of my willingness to sacrifice myself on the altar of clearly superior femininity are still to come. Mistress has more than just infinite physical pain to avenge and inflict. The quintessential recompense must of course be intensely intimate, fundamentally emotional, deeply psychological, and above all supremely sexual. Here is where Mistress’ essentially protean nature combines with my most desperately submissive self to provide us both with the most appropriate culmination of our wholesale power exchange. After an ecstatic eternity of joyfully vigorous whipping it’s finally time for the true domination of the infinitely culpable male to be carried out. This begins, fittingly enough, with the humble provision of a sexual service that is inherently asymmetrical and demeaning no matter how supposedly equal the relationship between provider and recipient might be.

Mistress grabs me around the middle, and my cruelly stretching bonds magically dissolve. She sets me on the floor at her feet, and again I kneel and prostrate myself, facing directly at her this time. Immediately she sits before me, spreading her legs wide and presenting her heavenly genitalia for service. No orders need to be given here, and I dive enthusiastically forward. Performing oral sex with a mad abandon I straightaway seek out the clitoris, which pops obligingly straight up. This is the size of my thumb, and urgently I suckle it as though it was, and I but a babe in arms. And this is where Mistress’ magical elasticity comes into play.

As I service that heavenly protuberance, egged on by Mistress’ delighted gasps and cries of pleasure, it begins to grow in my mouth. The more I suck on it the bigger it gets, growing long and hard like a penis. And then to my deliciously mortifying excitement I suddenly realize that it is a penis. Mistress is protean at the core, able to transform herself at will to fit the needs of the moment. And this moment demands that the tables be turned, the roles reversed, so that I can properly suffer sex as all womanhood has done since its invention hundreds of millions of years previous. Ecstatically eager as always to demonstrate my infinite submission to the female godhead I redouble my already frenzied efforts, able to bob up and down now on the stiffly erect organ growing ever longer, thicker and harder between my greedily slavering lips.

Mistress’ giant hand then cups the back of my head, palming my skull easily, and she begins rhythmically forcing me to ever greater efforts. By now the hotly pulsing cock in my mouth is six, seven, then eight inches long, and as Mistress presses me to take it all the way to the base the big velvety head enters my throat, easily slipping ever deeper down as it continues to grow under my manic ministrations. Soon I’m gobbling a foot-long wiener, the entire vein-wrapped shaft sliding swiftly through my lips and plumbing the depths of my gullet with every extensive sucking stroke. And still it grows, and grows, until my jaws are so achingly sprung with its impossible girth that they are threatening to lock up on me. At last, despite my absolute need to limitlessly abase myself through the most slavish oral service imaginable, my mortal orifice can no longer accommodate that relentlessly enlarging monstrosity. Gasping and gagging, drool slicking my chin and running down my neck, I’m forced to pull all the way off of it. But of course my fanatically worshipful service doesn’t end there.

Jutting up impossibly large and thick, Mistress cock bobs and throbs demandingly at me, and I wrap both of my hands (neither able to make it all the way) around that slightly curved, incredibly rigid shaft and start pumping on it as hard and fast as I can. And of course every pull on it stretches it out longer, swells it up fatter, until even together my hands can no longer meet around it, and the impossible penis I’m madly, slavishly servicing must be over two whole feet of rock-hard, blood-filled, urgently pulsating flesh just bursting with enough seed to drown me. Yet as always, despite my wholly appropriate hunger to be shamefully doused by that burning flood, Mistress has other plans for it. The foreplay is finally over, and at long last the ultimate culmination of my comprehensive subjugation at the hands of supremely superior femininity can begin. With a sudden shove Mistress topples me over backward. There I lie supine with my legs waving spread wide above me, my pitiful little erection straining painfully up in contemptible imitation of that gargantuan god-head and my eyes feasting ravenously on the gloriously gorgeous epitome of magically endowed femininity looming over me.

All incredible size and incomparable beauty she leans forward, one vast hand reaching out and down. What the hell is this thing? Some ridiculous little anomaly that must be eliminated immediately! She seizes my questing, urgently turgid genitalia between her thumb and forefinger. Then with a mind-blinding flare of entirely welcome excruciation she pinches those offending organs off and tosses them negligently away. Not even a wound is left to mark their passing; it’s suddenly as if they never existed. Her big finger pokes down lower then, inserting itself in my anus, which immediately dilates itself to accept her. Imparting her own elasticity to me she stretches it wider, until my opening is half the diameter of her hugely swollen pole. Then she takes this throbbing penis the size of my leg in hand, points the purple head of it (already glistening with lubricating pre-come) at my eagerly awaiting entrance and begins using all of her prodigious power and excited ebullience to force it inside.

Oh the monumental agony! This, and the intrinsically intimate mortification of that extreme stretching and supreme stuffing as my supposedly private insides are so fulsomely filled, is so utterly appropriate for the sinning male me that I wail like a banshee as she takes me. Still she pushes forward, inch after inch and foot after foot of hugely stretching circumference and deeply impaling length, stuffing me so full of hotly throbbing hardness that my pelvis is forced to reconfigure itself. My widely splayed thighs are pushed outward ever further, and a semi-cylindrical bulge begins to protrude above my abdomen, clear evidence of the enormous organ vengefully occupying me. Forward toward my rib cage this big hump rises; the erection creating it surely pushing my insides rudely aside as fills me beyond any mortal possibility. And then at last our connected crotches are pressed tightly together; our bodies inextricably linked by that gigantic organic intrusion. Pitilessly spitted by Mistress’ prick, stuffed to far past capacity with wonderfully suffering justice, I groan in the most appropriately pained and shamed stimulation ever as I gaze in terrified awe and utterly loving soul-thralldom up at her looming so hugely and beautifully above me.

“Are you enjoying this, slave?” she giggles delightedly at me. “Don’t you just love having my big punishing penis splitting you open and stuffing you up?”

“Yes Mistress!” I gasp, squirming uncontrollably with physical and emotional excess. “Your monstrous cock completes me in ways I can’t begin to articulate!”

“Good!” she gleams, tossing a darkly shimmering sheaf of sable hair off one humongous breast and back over her shoulder. “Get ready for a pain worse than childbirth then. Because I’m going to pay you back for eons of unjustified female suffering now by cramming it all back up inside you with my raging, raping, rampaging organ of revenge. I’m going to fuck you long enough and hard enough to more than make up for every bit of ignominious agony your kind has ever inflicted on mine. I’m going to take every last instance of despicable male sin and ram it right back up your ass where it belongs. And you will not only accept this, you will enjoy it and treasure it forever; be insanely, uncontrollably aroused by it, and love me more devotedly than ever before for this opportunity and experience of atoning for the destructive depredations of your contemptible sex that I’m providing you with!” And with that her enormous hands wrap about my torso. She lifts my lower body into the air until only my head and shoulders are in contact with the ground. Then pulling me toward her with her black-gloved arms even as she thrusts forward with her bunched, muscular haunches she falls to fucking me just as brutally, powerfully, and unstoppably as she always does.

The gargantuan globes of her breasts bounce wildly about, as Mistress puts the whole of her body into pumping into mine. Her hair flies everywhere, her eyes shine with effervescent glee as she delightedly regards me, and her white teeth gleam between those blood-red lips in a hugely stretched smile of sublime enjoyment at the exercise of yet again fulfilling the overriding purpose of her existence. And yes, her herculean erection bludgeons in and out of me with superhuman power and speed, redundantly teaching me all I’ll ever need to know about the travails a cruel nature has seen fit to forever inflict upon the undeserving female. From merely stuffing and splitting me that elephantine penis commences to batter and brutalize me, its rapidly raping and endlessly repetitive penetrations stab-hammering so deeply and painfully into my body and soul that I’m swiftly driven into raptures of agonized acceptance. And of course those indelible lessons in transcendent ecstas-cruciation are barely beginning. This feminine epitome is Mistress not only of puny little mortal me but of the entire universe. The very fabric of time and space are hers to control and manipulate, and as she decreed she easily sees that this singular and yet cyclical experience is as infinite as it is ephemeral.

How else to pack ages of payback into such an unpredictably brief interval as a dream? Every instant of this lasts an eternity; civilizations rise and fall, intermittent ice ages come and go, mountain ranges are thrust up and worn away, continents drift into endlessly different jigsaw configurations and still she fucks and fucks and fucks me ever more vehemently. Sublime joy and aggressive sexual ecstasy, manic arousal and triumphantly righteous vengeance; all these emotions and more simultaneously escalate endlessly along with her ever more ebullient exertions as she eternally holds me in her pitiless grip and powerfully pumps her butt and hips. And yet metaphysics dictates that even such cosmic imponderables as eternity and infinity must eventually submit to tangible reality. And so, somehow at last, the interminable crescendo of Mistress’ surpassing passion peaks in an unearthly screaming of biologic climax. An orgasmic convulsion that shivers our universe to its foundations and seems to reverberate throughout the vastness of time and space explodes through her. The hard hot rock of that cock so potently punishing, extravagantly exciting, fundamentally fulfilling and inescapably reshaping me begins to spurt a scalding stream of semen into my wholly owned insides even as its pace accelerates by yet another impossible order of magnitude. Aided by the additional lubrication of that copious flood of come, Mistress’ maniacally fucking prick culminates its endless possession of me in such a stupendous frenzy that finally I absolutely must succumb to climax myself.

Unfortunately in the context of this retributive necessity such a sacrilege is unthinkably impermissible, as evidenced by Mistress’ most essential amputation of my required equipment. And so as always at this ultimate pinnacle of competing need and impossibility, this wondrous heaven suddenly shatters around me. Bursting out of this limitlessly fantastic reality and into a far baser one, I abruptly wake to find myself writhing in the act of ejaculation.

Panting explosively, heart hammering in my chest, I’m shuddering violently all over and urgently pumping out come all over my already splattered belly. With a sob of desperation then I do the only thing I can under the circumstances. Grasping frantically at the swiftly dissipating traces of my subconscious catharsis I grab my shaking, spurting cock and urgently jerk it. Delving inward and lurching upward, I gasp and moan and milk my vile maleness of every last drop and spasm and every available residue of psychic satisfaction. Then, utterly spent, I begin weeping in an excess of blasted passion. Miserably mourning the banality of my waking existence, I gradually cry myself back to sleep, my despicably guilty sperm drying to a flaky scale on my messy belly.

Closeted Slut

I absolutely love seeing him this way!

And I love showing him off thus even more. It gives my already incredibly expansive ego such a wonderful boost. Giggling a little with uncontainable excitement, I lead Zelda, my incredibly scrumptious new girlfriend, through the magnificent master bedroom of my million-dollar mansion to the tiny, unfinished corner closet where I keep my virgin husband whenever I’m not using him. With a wink and a grin, I throw back the three heavy dead-bolts and then dramatically yank wide the heavy, steel-core oak door, exposing him lying there just as I left him this morning: tightly hogtied on the bare concrete floor of a five-foot square cinderblock cell. Zelda crows with delight at the sight, and as usual I can’t help boasting.

“Didn’t I tell you? Isn’t he just the cutest little slut-boy ever? Look how big and blue his eyes are! And see how they’re just filled with fearful, worshipful veneration as he regards me! That’s why I also always use tape over whatever I’m currently keeping him gagged with. You see how I’ve completely covered the entire lower half of his face (which is sprung painfully wide from the billiard ball crammed into his mouth) from just under his nose on down and from ear to ear with wide black strips of strapping tape? That wonderfully emphasizes those simply darling blue eyes, don’t you think?”

“Totally!” agrees Zelda, tossing her long, chestnut-brown ponytail back off her shoulder. Her own lively emerald eyes are literally glittering with excitement. Then she proceeds to point out other touches that she particularly likes.

“That heavy mascara, liner and eye shadow really does bring out the blue too, and his pageboy haircut is just the cutest. I see you also like to keep him humiliatingly cross-dressed, with high heels, stockings, and a nice pink garter belt. And even though you’ve got him tied up so tightly he could never ever get loose – God, look at how much you’ve got him bowed up! His back must be breaking! – I see you also have him secured right up close to the wall with that short length of heavy-gauge towing chain locked onto his wide steel neck collar. What’s that you have engraved on there?”

“One side of it says ‘Slave Slut-boy’, and the other side ‘Property of Mistress Mora’. If you look down here, you can see the same two legends tattooed on his flank, and my own personal symbol branded onto his ass. All of that was done on our wedding night eight years ago, the same day he turned eighteen. And of course that heavy, three inch-wide collar wasn’t the only piece of steel welded permanently onto him that night…” Peremptorily I call out to my contemptible little devotee gazing so adoringly up at me. “Roll over Slut-boy, and show your Goddess’ new lover your eternally virginal penis!”

Immediately Slut-boy obliges, exposing his spike-lined, battery-equipped, cruelly tight chastity cage to scrutiny. “Watch this!” I giggle. Then I lift my cell phone and press the ‘5’ button. Immediately Slut-boy squeals with pain and shudders all over, his helpless body quivering incessantly at the whim of the electricity being applied to the sensitive head of his impossible-to-erect, never-to-be-touched penis. I leave him suffering wonderfully like this for over a minute, certain that the sight is making Zelda as wildly horny and psyched for some aggressively sadistic sex as it is me. But at last I hit the ‘0’ button, cancelling the current.

“I can control the intensity from one to nine, depending on which button I press. That was five, and you can see from the way Slut-boy is still sobbing and shaking that it’s a wonderfully effective disciplinary tool. Now, shall we stand here admiring my loving young husband all day, or shall we get down to seriously torturing him? My dungeon downstairs has every kind of restraining device, torture tool, and implement of discipline imaginable. Or would you rather just skip the foreplay, and fuck him to within an inch of his life right now?”

“I want to fuck him!” cries Zelda right away. “Let’s just fuck the absolute shit out of him! We’ve got forever to torture the little prick. I’m intolerably hot and horny right now! I want to fuck his blubbering, made-up face and cute little ass until I come about a thousand times!”

“You got it, girlfriend!” I eagerly assent. “Let’s get outfitted. You can wear any of my stuff you want. What’s mine is yours, particularly my dick-addicted little Slut-boy!”

Leaving that ridiculous Slut-boy gasping and twitching on the cold concrete floor, I lead lovely Zelda over to my incredibly expansive wardrobe. After perhaps fifteen minutes of delighted incredulity and amazed exclamations she chooses a pair of thigh-high shiny white boots, a skimpy matching corset and a bright red strap-on cock at least ten inches long. Donning my own favorite skin-tight black latex cat-suit (complete with a built-in foot-long stainless steel dong) is quite a challenge, distracted as I am by the spectacle of Zelda changing.

Damn I love to see this girl naked, she is so incredibly hot! Her tits are nothing less than spectacular: huge and perfectly round, pendulous and yet upswept and topped by naturally pointy little nipples the size, shape, color and taste of Hershey’s chocolate kisses. Once I help her squeeze into and tightly buckle up that corset these are so emphatically emphasized that it’s all I can do not to ravish her right on the spot. But of course I’ve promised to introduce her to Slut-boy fucking tonight, a delightful treat she’s never yet experienced. And so after tightening the straps on her big butch cock for her I content myself with just a few long minutes of fondling and kissing. Using one hand to heft her heavy breast and thumb-rub the stiff little cone of her nipple while the other one first strokes up and down her lengthy erection and then fingers her eager wetness, I tongue out her hungry mouth and caress her soft lips with my own until neither of us can stand it any longer. Then I take Zelda by the hand and lead her back into the bedroom.

Entering Slut-boy’s closet, I unlock the restraining chain, lean over and pick him up by his roped-together ankles and wrists. This isn’t that difficult – at just over five feet tall and a hundred pounds he’s over a foot shorter than I am and about half my weight. Not that I’m fat or anything. As a professional fitness competitor my thick, solidly built body is nearly all bulging muscles and big strong bones. Slut-boy whimpers and bleats at the greatly increased stress on his bound-up body as I carry him over to the ‘play corner’, and Zelda snickers appreciatively at this.

That corner where I set Slut-boy down at last is mirrored from floor to ceiling for a distance of eighteen feet along each wall. Set in the center of this space is a four-foot square platform about four inches high with an upraised pillory at one end. That extra height ensures that when my husband is secured in the stocks both of his holes will be at the optimum height for fucking. For now though I merely lay him on his belly next to this platform, and release the rope that keeps him so painfully bowed up hands to feet. Leaving his legs bound together at the ankles and knees, and his arms likewise tied behind his back at the wrists and elbows with his forearms pressed tightly together, I position him kneeling straight up. Then facing him sternly I describe what’s expected of him tonight – not that he can’t guess for himself. Zelda isn’t the first lover I’ve brought home to join me in enjoying him in the last eight years, or even the one hundredth for that matter. Nevertheless I revel in spelling everything strictly out.

“This is Mistress Zelda, Slut-boy. She has never had a slave of her own; never fucked and tortured a worthless, orgasm-less male virgin before. She is my new lover, and I have chosen to share her with you for as long as we are together. Soon I will put you in the stocks, and together we will fuck your opposing holes until we simply can’t deliver another stroke. Then you will remain restrained there while we sleep. Tomorrow you will serve us our breakfast, and then we’ll all go down to the dungeon for the most wonderful torture session ever – along with a lot more double-fucking of course. But first you will service Mistress Zelda’s penis like the expert, world-class, incomparable cocksucker that you are. I want you to give her the best possible blow-job in your extensive repertoire. Is that understood?”

Eagerly Slut-boy nods up at me, his bearing the absolute epitome of worshipful subservience. Satisfied – and still tickled to death at his mindless, consuming, fundamentally innate submissiveness even after all these years – I swiftly rip the tape painfully from his face and then squeeze his rouged and powdered cheeks, helping him to expel the big hard eight ball lodged between his achingly sprung-wide jaws. Then as it finally drops to the floor and rolls away I step back and wave beautiful Zelda forward into my place.

“Go to it, girlfriend. Enjoy your first-ever blow-job!”

Big breasts heaving and pointy nipples puckering, my latest lover steps right up. Seeing this gorgeous, slender and yet incredibly endowed woman sticking her big erect cock in his face, Slut-boy gleams with glee and opens his suck-hole right up wide. He sticks out his tongue, and uses its tip to teasingly tickle the questing, egg-sized head of that threatening prick. Then deftly waggling it back and forth he slowly, sensuously licks up its underside from base to tip before finally eagerly engulfing the entire thing. All ten inches of it slip inside his mouth and slide easily down his open throat. Then moaning with joy he clamps it tightly between his painted, ruby-red lips and starts briskly bobbing up and down in it, impaling his little face to the hilt perhaps once every second. Immediately Zelda marvels at his downright magnificent technique.

“My god Mora, you weren’t kidding a bit! What a supremely eager and consummately professional little cocksucker! And you say he’s never had his own dick sucked, or even so much as touched, not even by himself? That he was raised to believe that even masturbation was a sin, and never so much as even attempted it? How in the hell did anyone so completely ignorant of penile pleasures ever get so good at providing them?”

“Years and years of practice my love, and not just on fake cocks either. I won’t ever let a man’s seed touch me, and though I’m bisexual I won’t bring one back here for punishment and fucking unless he’s a bisexual too, and willing to shoot his filthy stinking load all over my prettily made-up Slut-boy’s face – or down his open throat and deep up his sexy little ass. He has to start them up and finish them off for me every time. Yet that’s not even close to the half of it. I regularly whore him out to just about anyone, and even host monthly slut-fucking parties for gay fetish clubs from all around the world – just to be sure he gets his constant fill of brutal gang-banging and slimy male semen. Call eating come my own blessed sacrament, if you like.

“Of course, he wasn’t always like this. Slut-boy was a terrible, downright hysterical homophobe at first. It was that Christian upbringing of his you see; he actually thought he’d go to hell and be damned for all eternity if he so much as touched his own cock, to say nothing of someone else’s hugely swollen, hotly pulsing, nasty stinking erection. He used to fight it like mad and resist with all his will; bawl like a baby, retch and gag and even puke at being forced to service real penises. I had to completely immobilize him, wrap him in chains from head to toe and even use a ring-gag on him, especially when it was black guys panting and grunting and rubbing their hard hot cocks all over his face before forcing them deep down his throat.

“But not to worry: I soon cured him of all that. I got a two dozen-strong gay motorcycle gang up here to double-tag-team him for a whole week straight. They pumped both ends of him so full of hot spunky come that it was practically leaking out his ears by the end. But finally he accepted me as his personal savior I instead, and acknowledged that his overriding purpose in life was to slavishly service big hard cocks of any and all kinds for his lovely new Goddess’ satisfaction and amusement. And now that he worships me instead of Jesus he can’t get enough of them. He’s finally found his earthly paradise and eternal damnation all in one. Look at him, for heaven’s sake: this is what my eternally virginal never-had-an-orgasm-and-never-will dick-slut truly lives for: sucking off cock after cock after cock forever!”

Indeed. Grunting hungrily, moaning with rapturous fulfillment, Slut-boy is focused solely and single-mindedly on servicing that big red erection filling his mouth. So enthusiastically does he attack it that overflowing slobber slicks his lips and chin and runs down his neck; he pants explosively through his nose and his own useless penis is flushed red and swollen to the absolute capacity of its tight little cage despite the certain agony of the dozens of little spikes impaling it. All he needs to make him complete is someone brutally pounding his rectum at the same time, and he’ll have that soon enough. Meanwhile he becomes more excited still when Zelda suddenly responds to my damning explanation by grabbing his head with both of her hands and beginning to yank it rhythmically toward her crotch even as she starts thrusting powerfully forward with her hips: fucking his helpless face as pitilessly as any of those violent bikers ever did.

Soon Zelda’s panting madly herself, and unleashing urgent little cries as the base of her hard-on presses back forcefully on her clit. Of course as a committed lesbian she’s no stranger to the pleasures of a good strap-on. But the special thrill of dominance one gets from doing an involuntarily virginal male dick-slave is truly incomparable. Harder and harder Zelda fucks the extravagantly slavering come-funnel of my wimpy little husband-slut, who kneels there helplessly bound-up before her and greedily accepts every vicious, esophagus-invading stroke.

Mesmerized as ever by this familiar spectacle I watch, burning with excitement and eagerly stoking my own giant cock, for over fifteen increasingly intense minutes. Indeed by the time Zelda finally begins fucking him harder than ever and shrieking ecstatically in orgasm I almost come in sympathy right along with her. And the second she pulls her big cock from his disappointed face and staggers back gasping in aftermath, I straightaway begin preparations for the serious sexual assault that’s finally ready to commence.

Grabbing Slut-boy by the armpit I haul him to his bound-together feet – which are of course permanently locked into those cruelly pinching six-inch high fetish shoes. Then I force him to hop clumsily over and up onto the platform next to a pair of three-inch rings set bolted into it at the end opposite the pillory. Positioning his feet between these I use a pair of sturdy steel snaps to link them to the shoe locks just above his ankles, ensuring that he can’t shift his wobbly, tip-toed stance in the least. Then I open the heavy oak stocks and bend him forward at the waist, until his bare torso is parallel to the ground and his throat rests in the center of the three wooden semicircles presented. Swiftly I use alligator clips to hang heavy lead weights from his nipples, and then I untie his arms.

After more than eight hours of being bound in that unnatural contortion these are as numb and unresponsive as deadwood. I’m obliged to lift them for poor Slut-boy and place his wrists in their own waiting semicircles, whereupon I swing down closed the top half of the stocks. Next I fit a heavy padlock through the hasp and snap it emphatically shut. There: once again my hapless damned subject is trapped helplessly immobile, restrained most uncomfortably in a position that will quickly become increasingly torturous for him.

Good! Perfect! I smugly exult to myself. Let him suffer endlessly as all men should! They are inherently evil, every one of them. However, am I not a benevolent Goddess as well as judgmental? In compensation for the night of excruciation that lies ahead, Slut-boy now has yet another brutal, interminable, face-and-ass double-fucking to enjoy!

“Okay my angel,” I call generously over to Zelda, “You’ve got the spit-slimy cock. That’s all the lubrication this dirty little slut ever gets. So step over here and let him have it! I guarantee that you’re going to find fucking an asshole so much more rewarding than even the tightest pussy. Especially this asshole – Slut-boy here has such a tiny, stunted body after all that it’s like that of an innocent little altar boy. And with both of his legs bound so tightly together it’s sure to be even better. So get ready for the best fucking sex you’ve ever had girlfriend!”

Sweet, sadistic Zelda needs no further invitation. She moves eagerly into place. Gripping Slut-boy’s plump little cheeks she spreads them wide, lines her impressive erection up and then forcefully drives that big hard cock completely into his waiting anus with one prodigiously punishing penetration.

Slut-boy immediately screams in response, his wild cry equal parts incredibly intimate agony and overwhelming emotional ecstasy. The terribly pained expression on his face is also a certain sign of unholy enjoyment for my limitlessly perverted ass-masochist, and I know for a fact that we’ve just more than made up for both his endless hours just spent alone and hogtied on the hard closet floor and those that await him bent over tip-toed in the stocks before breakfast.

Zelda too is obviously in instant heaven, and within seconds she’s established a hard-driving rhythm that’s truly admirable in a first-time-ever ass-fucker. Booted legs spread wide and body firmly braced, her hands gripping Slut-boy securely by the hips, she punches her thick ten inches so swiftly and violently in and out of his tiny body that her big round boobs bounce all around in a breathtaking display of uncontained erotic energy.

Naturally then I move into position to get the best possible view of this – not to mention join in the fun myself. Stepping before the pillory I align my own even larger organ with Slut-boy’s other lucky fuck-hole, which of course instantly gapes wide to accept me. Right away then I too plunge my urgent erection into him all the way up to the hilt. Then spreading my own legs in a power stance and gripping the sturdy pillory for leverage I fall instantly into my own usual maniacal rhythm, giving myself my most regular aerobic workout and simultaneously gifting Slut-boy with the kind of madly rampaging double-fucking he endlessly craves.

Together we take it right to him, pounding his opposing holes in perfect synchronization. Meeting each other’s ecstatic gazes we egg each other on to ever greater efforts, spurred as well by Slut-boy’s slobbery grunts of animal enjoyment as he’s so wantonly, recklessly, brutally used.

Again his excess drool drizzles from his lower lip and chin, puddling on the platform between my widely spaced boots and spattering both the pillory and my latex cat-suit due to the ever escalating violence of my thrusts. Indeed that suit becomes ever more stifling and restrictive as I work my big strong body, and soon I’m forced to lower the zipper from my neck to my belly, freeing my own melon-sized breasts to flop and bounce like Zelda’s icons of feminine perfection. And speaking of tits, our relentless double rhythm has also set the weights dangling from those of Slut-boy to swinging wildly about. This makes those cruelly-toothed alligator clips bite in even worse and stretch and yank at his already wickedly distended nipples in absolutely agonizing fashion, as evidenced by the nasally whines soon punctuating his endless urgent fuck-grunting. Additionally inspired by this just and exquisite suffering, Zelda and I hammer away at our respective receptacles more emphatically than ever, until we at last reach an absolutely earth-shaking, body-quaking simultaneous climax – the first of heaven knows how many.

Of course we promptly switch positions at this, trading holes for the first of any number of times before resuming our slut-fucking marathon. Indeed it’s after three o’clock in the morning before even our supremely fit bodies and insatiable lusts for damaging, degrading, and inconceivably dominating sado-sex have temporarily exhausted themselves. At that point we at last pull our still rock-hard organs of abuse from Slut-boy’s impossibly agonized and debilitated body – if only for the time being. Leaving him whimpering and blubbering beautifully in his inescapable bondage, we at last strip each other naked and repair to my enormous canopied bed.

Too wrung out to make proper love, we merely snuggle up together under the covers. Kissing and caressing and murmuring tender endearments – and ever more extreme intentions for tomorrow’s surely incredibly rewarding torture orgy – we slowly drift off into blissfully loving, intimately entwined sleep, my suffering Slut-boy’s endless lamentations the most soporific sound possible. Sweet dreams, my angel…

Party Animal

There’s an old saying – which I could never quite grok – that goes, “Be careful what you wish for – you just might get it.” Now what kind of nonsense is that? Well, I finally found out, and though wiser for the experience, I’d just as soon have remained ignorant. After months of trying, I finally managed to get a date with this knockout blonde that I work for. Unfortunately it turned out to be quite a bit more than I bargained for.

Her name was listed as Ms. Linda Skrue, and she’d purchased my division only a couple months ago. Lucky me. From the moment I first saw her strut into the office I was captivated by her, hopelessly in lust. She was an amazing, Amazon dream of womanhood, as strong and powerful and unanswerable as a brute force of nature.

Over six feet tall and built like some kind of mythical warrior-goddess, she was apparently of extremely wealthy Serbian descent. She added to her already quite intimidating size and appearance by regularly wearing tight, black leather skirts and high, spike-heeled boots. Above these her lovely legs were long and strong, her shapely ass firm and bulbous. In addition to those killer skirts she constantly wore thin, tight silk blouses that emphasized her huge bra-less breasts. Her muscular shoulders and arms were a bit too large to be truly womanly, but this only added to the overall impression of size, strength, and overwhelmingly dominant sexuality.

All in all she was surely the most powerfully erotic creature I’d ever seen. Just watching her stride confidently around the room my mouth would go dry and my palms begin to sweat. Talking to her I could feel my entire body going limp with need: paralyzed at the thought of being trapped under her powerful naked form, helplessly enduring while she had her violent way with me. Of course, this was only a useless fantasy, one I figured never to fulfill. Linda knew I was hot for her, and she treated me with an amused sort of contempt because of it: brushing off my advances as though she’d already judged me the core and couldn’t be bothered with learning more. It was clear she doubted I was man enough for her, and to be honest I had to admit to some doubts myself. However such an exceptional female specimen satisfied her surely ravenous needs was bound to be extreme. How could any man, however potent, truly measure up? But suddenly one day it seemed that my wildest dreams were about to come true. Utterly out of the blue, Linda approached me at my desk – looming several inches taller than me – and without preamble announced that she’d decided to give me a chance. She was perfectly frank about it. She wanted me for a night of wild, outrageously kinky sex. Was I available?

I picked up my jaw off the floor and gaped at her. She waited patiently, fixing me with a challenging stare, and finally I stammered out yes, of course, when and where? Linda nodded matter-of-factly and handed me a slip of paper with an address. “Be there by eight,” she said, and walked away without another word.

I couldn’t believe it. Things like that just didn’t happen, not to guys like me. But I had the address right there in my hand, and for the rest of the afternoon Linda favored me with several long, speculative looks that seemed to scald the air between us. Finally five o’clock came, and I left the office in a daze, wandering home as though not quite sure of where I was. Unable to eat, I spent the next couple of hours in a fever of anticipation, finally arriving at the designated address – presumably Linda’s house – just before eight.

It was a beautiful place, large and open and luxuriously appointed. The ocean view beckoned, and I wondered what these wealthy Serb ancestors I’d heard about did for a living. The opulence displayed was almost creepy. Nevertheless I followed a long, curving tarmac through meticulously manicured grounds and parked my car behind a beautiful black Ferrari. Then with my heart pounding madly I traced the brick walkway to the door and rang the bell. Almost immediately it opened, and there stood Linda.

Startled, I blinked in surprise. It was surely eight o’clock (I’d been checking my watch with manic obsessiveness) yet she appeared to be wearing only a curiously bulky black robe. Wasn’t she ready for our date yet?

Apparently so. Without a word she reached out, grabbed me by the tie and dragged me inside. Big Linda Skrue then led me through her palace like a dog on a leash, past one sumptuous room after another, until finally we arrived at what I assumed to be the master bedroom: a huge, lavish space with several couches, a bar, a large ceiling mirror and a giant, four-poster bed. Without even offering me a drink, she steered me directly to the bed, ordering peremptorily “All right, get your clothes off!”

I couldn’t believe it.

This chick sure didn’t stand on ceremony. Immediately I complied, hurriedly stripping off my clothes, my hands fumbling and trembling with excitement as she coolly, speculatively watched me. At last I was naked, and as I stepped carefully out of my trousers and shorts she suddenly pushed me, hard, knocking me onto the bed, forcing me relentlessly up and back and finally onto a large mound of pillows piled at the headboard. I squirmed around, casting my gaze frantically about in a sudden, futile search for escape. Then I saw the chains.

A double set of shackles hung from iron rings embedded in the headboard, and before I could get over my surprise big Linda Skrue was straddling me, crossing my arms in front of my chest, gripping my wrists and snapping a wide, heavy steel cuff onto each one. In a trice my arms were shackled tightly across my body, stretched out wide by taut chains to the opposite sides.

This arrangement locked me firmly in place, snubbing me down onto the pile of pillows without an inch of slack. Looking down at my elevated hips, my cuffed wrists and overlapping elbows, I tried struggling free, but of course it was useless. The shackles were secure.

“Hey, what...” I began, but got no further. ‘Big’ Linda immediately slapped a wide strip of heavy black tape over my mouth, sealing in my protest. Then she grinned smugly down at me.

“Shut up, dog. I don’t want to hear it. You want me. That’s obvious. You’ve been mooning around after me like a lovesick puppy ever since we first met. Well you’ll get me. You’ll get that and a whole lot more. I’m having a party tonight, see? And you’re the entertainment. So you just lie there quiet like a good little animal!”

What?! A party? Excited by Linda’s proximity, my dick was already half-hard, and the thought of an orgy made it stiffen even more. Yet what did she mean calling me an animal, and ‘entertainment’? What had I gotten myself into here?

Suddenly I heard doors banging, voices, and a growing commotion in the next room. Witnessing the dawning of my awareness Big Linda’s grin widened. “Why, I think they’re here already!” she gloated. She climbed off of me, then leaped off the bed and tore away her robe.

Stunned, I caught my breath. Beneath it her unbelievably ripe, succulent body was strapped tightly into a black leather body-harness. Right in front, her heavy, big-nippled breasts thrust through encircling steel rings like fleshy globes. Gleaming, spike-studded strips cradled her muscular shoulders, and above the opening for her cunt, her pubis was an armored, upraised mound, equipped with sinister-looking slots and mounts.

Black and shiny and stiletto-heeled, her boots rose to well past the knee and were polished to a killing gloss. Laughing a sneer at my goggle of amazement, Big Linda Skrue cast the robe dramatically aside and swept across the room, striding to the high bedroom doors and flinging them open wide.

Ten to twelve incredibly gorgeous women poured immediately in: exchanging greetings and chatter, ignoring me completely as they made drinks, lit reefers and began to pass them around. As if this was any old cocktail party they began to circulate, complimenting ‘B’Linda’ on her sweet new boots and intimidating harness, helping each other shed coats and other garments, and eventually they all wandered by to study me appraisingly.

Completely at ease, they acted as if there were nothing special about seeing a helpless naked man chained and gagged on the middle of a giant, four-poster bed. Perhaps there wasn’t, at least for them. They commented casually to each other about me, assessing the length and rigidity of my erection, remarking contemptuously on the slightness of my frame and the bright red blush coloring my cheeks, and in general looking me over like some cheap piece of meat they intended to eat. Then they just as casually wandered off: sipping drinks, puffing on smokes, gossiping and giggling and gradually slipping into various stages of undress.

Soon more and more drugs began to make their appearance: liquor of course, to loosen up any aberrant inhibitions; pot, to heighten the awareness and sharpen the sensations, but then a disturbing amount of stimulants, especially Ecstasy, meth and coke, as though the girls were powering up for some unbelievably exhilarating sexual exertion.

The energy level around me heightened with each intake, until the room was audibly buzzing with its occupants’ physiological arousal. Finally Big Linda dimmed some of the lights, darkening the room and focusing a rich yellow glow onto both the elevated bed and my firmly chained and supported body. Then she called everyone over. Apparently the entertainment was about to begin.

At least a dozen strong, this group of achingly beautiful naked and half-naked women gathered together around the massive bed, sitting on the edge, perching on chairs and couches or draping themselves against the tall carven posts. Drinking, murmuring, their lovely eyes blazing with drugged excitement, they stared down at my helpless naked form, watching expectantly as their leader B’Linda pushed through them, climbing first onto the bed and then on top of me.

“Let’s get this part over with!” she grunted, and straddling my body she dropped her heavy weight down.

There were in-drawn breaths and murmurs of anticipation from all around, and suddenly Big Linda Skrue was burying my face between her giant tits and twisting and writhing her big strong torso against me.

Oh man, it was exactly like my fantasies: held down by this brutal Amazon Queen and used for her every pleasure! The only difference was the audience, which cooed and giggled and breathlessly exclaimed as Big Linda promptly stimulated my helpless body to an incredible peak of desperately horny arousal.

First she rubbed her stiff, succulent nipples all over my helpless face, and then began battering me about. She literally thrashed me with her humongous tits, then slid down my body and attacked my already rock-hard cock. With expert, professional skill, she jerked and pumped and licked and sucked and totally, outrageously titty-fucked me to an incredibly huge, tremendously swollen erection. Then she climbed right onto it, mounting my hips, carefully inserting me into her tight little hole and dropping herself down.

Ohhhhhh man, it was worth it, it was worth it all!

The strange circumstances, the ominous implications, being trussed up here like choice little bit of tasty meat…whatever B’Linda and her friends here had in mind for me, nothing could ever repay the exquisite pleasure of sinking into that hot, slippery wet cunt for the very first time.

With that one split second of utter, mind-blowing ecstasy, B’Linda owned my soul, hers to do as she pleased with forever. Yet she didn’t pause to relish the taking. Instead of savoring that initial thrust she went immediately to work, riding my elevated, supine form determinedly.

Soon there were moans and gasps and cries of excitement from all around, and several of the women began touching each other, kissing and caressing in helpless arousal. Yet still they remained intent on the spectacle before them, watching avidly as Big Mistress Linda proceeded to fuck my blown-away body to an incredible, unbelievably intense orgasm.

It took only a couple of minutes. Her wonderful pussy was so hot and wet and tight, her rhythm so effortlessly, expertly pneumatic that I just couldn’t help myself. My complete sense of utter helplessness only added to the thrill, and after a short, mindlessly biologic interval my raging lust suddenly boiled over, spewing from my out-classed cock in a series of powerful, wrenching spasms.

My timid cry of ecstasy leaked from behind the tape gag in an eerie, keening whine, and the women responded as one, crowding closer around. Finally Big Linda climbed off my body and joined them, cranking up their anticipating tension to an even more palpable level. Hemming me in on all sides, the girls began grinning down at me in promise, nudging and snickering to one another and pointing at my deflating cock.

Apparently the real entertainment was about to begin.

“All right, little man,” B’Linda smirked down at me. “You’ve had your bit of fun. Now it’s our turn!” She grabbed one of my ankles, and an especially eager young girl with a couple of tattoos, a glittering diamond ring in her navel and the largest, most sharply protuberant red-brown nipples I’d ever seen immediately grabbed the other.

There was something unnerving about this girl, something that captured my attention almost immediately. Maybe it was the intense zeal she displayed: a desperate impatience or tightly capped hunger. Despite all the chemical recreation, she still looked like an addict in need of a fix. Clearly my coming subjugation was the required indulgence.

Without a doubt this chick had serious business to take care of with me here tonight. I found myself wondering if I would be able to handle it. She was incredibly hot of course, with those extraordinary nipples, a heart-shaped, angelic little face and a wonderfully slim and tight, petite young body. But her ornamented flesh and that sense of barely controlled frenzy about her hinted at dangerously extreme behavior. Then my unease grew rapidly worse, as with the ease of long practice she and B’Linda together promptly lifted my legs high above my head, raising and spreading my helpless feet until they could shackle my ankles to the same iron rings that held my wrists. This calculated maneuver opened my ass up and raised it high in the air, and another couple of waiting women promptly shoved another pair of fat cushions under it, propping my hips up even more firmly than before.

Doubled over in my bonds, splayed out wide like an advertisement for gang rape, I struggled futilely with the chains, the wide tape gag sealing in my weak little pleas.

Apparently this was only what the assembled women expected – or indeed, probably hoped of me. Grouped around me in a sneering, jeering circle, they mocked me: laughing, joking, and reveling in my helplessness and ridiculously humiliating posture. But unfortunately ridicule wasn’t the only thing on their minds.

As soon as she was satisfied that my bonds and positioning were secure, Big Linda Skrue turned to a tall mahogany bedside cabinet and flung its doors open. Inside, racked and shelved and dangling from hooks and rods and hangers was an incredible array of sexual toys and devices. Vibrators, cock-clamps, penis rings and whips, handcuffs and shackles and harnesses and straps, oils and creams and blindfolds and ball-gags and bizarre sexual paraphernalia for all manner of perversions were cast either haphazardly about or carefully stored away: patiently awaiting B’Linda’s sex parties. But by far and away the most numerous items were dildos.

Long ones, short ones, thick ones and thin, ridged and knobbed and sporting all kinds of strange protuberances, they were piled in drawers and on shelves or dangled from their straps like a cornucopia of lesbian treasures. Immediately the girls rushed over and began outfitting themselves: shedding the last of their clothes, donning tight black latex and leather and iron-chain lingerie, then locating and strapping on their own favorite cocks for the festivities ahead.

What those were was all too obvious. Looking up into the ceiling mirror, my doubled-up posture and upraised hips presented me with a view of my anus that resembled a target on a firing range. That vulnerable hole and the message of all those dildos just couldn’t be ignored. And sure enough, as the girls gathered once again around the bed, my Big Mistress Linda climbed back aboard and made their intentions horribly clear.

Sporting a long, black, up-curving hard rubber phallus and carrying a riding crop, she slapped my ass smartly, clutched her big, firmly mounted penis meaningfully and smirked contemptuously down at me, finally deigning to fill me in on their plans.

“Well, little man, this is it! We’re here – all of us – to punish you for the sins of your sex. I paid you for the privilege, just now, with the best fuck of your worthless life. Don’t try to pretend that it wasn’t. So now, tonight, you’re going to open up and take a brutal-ass butt-fucking just like you and every other pig-dog piece of trash male have been dishing out to us women for centuries.

“You might call this a kind of lesbians’ club, see? We like to get together for wild orgies once in a while, and although we don’t really need men, we decided we’d like to have a weak, disgusting, pathetic little pig-dog slut like you around this time anyway. Why? Because you men are animals! All of you! Filthy, evil, unfit animals! And you need to be punished!”

Big Linda paused, drawing a breath to tap the depths of her outrage.

“Every last man on this planet owes each of us women a debt of subjugation! That silly little penis there makes you guilty as sin! Just like the rest of them! These are war crimes, little man, and you know how it is when it’s war. If you can’t get everyone responsible, then anyone will have to do. That’s you, pig. There are billions of guilty men on this planet, and we can’t get them all. But we’ve got you! We’ve got you all night!

“So one short night will have to suffice. A night of torture for you; a night of triumph for us. One small payment for eons of abuse. Enjoy it if you can, little animal. You deserve what you’ve got coming to you! Don’t you?! Admit it!”

Again Big Linda cracked me painfully across the ass with the crop. Even though I was totally subdued, bound and gagged below her, she seemed insistent upon some kind of confession, some willing acknowledgment of my innate evil. Helplessly, I nodded.

“How many girls have you fucked and then forgotten? Huh? Or said you’d call and never did? How many innocent mouths have you come in, even after promising not to? How many girls get beaten, abused, harassed, taken advantage of each and every day, just ‘cause they’re members of the weaker sex? How many raped? How many killed? How many women have been righteously fucked over by one of you brutish bastards since the dawn of time? How many?!”

B’Linda was in full tirade, nearly frothing at the mouth, and my growing terror began to eclipse my reason. Nevertheless, for some perverse reason it got my spent dick twitching again.

“Well, we’re here to pay you back for all of them, little man. Let’s see how you like having your body invaded! Let’s see how you like being on the bottom! How about a little corporal punishment first? You men like to dish it out. Let’s see how you endure taking it!” With that Big Linda drew back her powerfully muscled arm and then suddenly really slashed the stiff leather crop in it viciously across my upraised, vulnerable ass.

The loud slap of it striking and the angry red mark it raised drew a varied chorus of gasps: excitement, satisfaction and pleasure from the congregation, and a muffled cry of bewildered pain and dismay from my own throat. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening! I’d set out for some innocent casual sex with an excitingly dominant woman and suddenly found myself trapped in the clutches of a vengeful group of wild lesbian terrorists! Again and again B’Linda lashed me with the crop, spanking my helpless bottom with all the fury of an outraged matriarch. Soon my cheeks and thighs were brightly flushed from end to end, and my muffled cries of pain had the circle of my tormentors literally quivering with a fever of excitement and anticipation. Once again they were kissing and caressing each other, but still little else.

Clearly they were saving themselves for the big orgy ahead; my ritual punishment and debasement was merely some strange kind of foreplay. But at last Big Linda cast the crop aside and moved closer. An expectant hush fell as she positioned herself, the women crowding closer around and watching with shiny-eyed fervor and bated breath.

Silently that brutal Amazon Queen knelt before my elevated hole, and without hesitation she squirted some kind of greasy lubricant deep inside.

Clearly more concerned with the ease of her first penetration than my own comfort, B’Linda roughly worked it in and all around, slickening me up and coaxing open that puckered entrance to my lower body. Then she moved up close, and with a stiff grunt of effort Big Linda Skrue slid her hard rubber cock deep up into my asshole.

Uhhhhnng! Again my helpless dismay struggled with the gag, emerging around the tape in a long, drawn-out groan of pain. This couldn’t be happening! A thick, stiff reality worse than any nightmare, Big Linda’s huge hard prick filled me up, feeling like some kind of wickedly stabbing club. Involuntarily my futile struggles escalated.

Frantically I thrashed against my bonds, using every last bit of strength to try and expel my pitiless invader. Of course it was useless, and the assembled lesbians again jeered me, crowding around so close that I could feel their hot breath on my violated body. Slowly, slowly Big Linda drew back, and then with a snarl of savage pleasure she thrust forward again, spearing even deeper up into my tight little bunghole. Again I cried out, trying desperately to resist, yet this time there was something weirdly, unmistakably erotic about my helpless struggles. Against all my own volition I seemed to feel something compelling, something somehow necessary about this invasion.

If Big Linda noticed this strange reaction to such an intimate personal violation she didn’t show it. She was too busy building up a brisk, determined rhythm. Soon she was hammering away, viciously fucking my tight, tender hole with the breathless urgency and gasping speed that I’d often delivered but never had to receive. Thrust after brutal thrust plunged into my body, making me feel like a swiftly growing post-hole caught on the business end of a pile driver. And what a driver: Big Linda Skrue loomed over me, grinning down as she pinned my body to the pillows and delivered my painful education.

On that bed, surrounded by her admiring disciples, she taught me what it really means to be a woman: to be fucked, held down captive and cored out open by a rough, brutish invader; stripped of every last vestige of personal sovereignty. It was the most physically dominating, deeply personal sensation that I had ever felt. Every stroke of those relentlessly pistoning hips drove B’Linda’s hard cock deeper up into me, and was it possible that I was actually beginning to enjoy this? It was.

Chained and gagged and completely helpless within a circle of forbiddingly beautiful women, forcibly anally raped by the hottest of them, I began to undeniably get off on the criminal use they were putting me to.

Painful, yes; humiliating, undoubtedly, but wasn’t that part of the appeal? Wasn’t that part of what drove me to seek out Big Linda Skrue in the first place? To be dominated, subjugated, taken firmly under control and put in my place? It was, and although B’Linda’s outrageous need and depravity far outstripped anything I could have imagined, I somehow found it within myself to accept it – more, to enjoy it, to take my own violent brutalization and turn it into a source of incredibly potent – if undeniably perverse – arousal. As Big Linda panted and grunted and sawed away at my open hole, I soon began to moan myself. Arching my back, lifting my ass up higher and higher, I fell ever deeper into synch with the stabbing joy of her wonderful rhythm. Being fucked, ah god, being fucked was the greatest, harder, harder, please! The intense pain itself began to fuel my arousal, and I looked beseechingly up at B’Linda’s laboring, sweat-sheened body: moaning and groaning at her every hammering thrust. That haughty face was twisted with angry pleasure, and her massive breasts bobbed in their harness. Finally, as I focused on her stiff, hugely erect nipples, I felt my own cock start growing again, climbing by slow, bobbing stages until it stuck straight out at me, swollen and red and betraying unmistakably my shameful arousal.

It was impossible to deny my complicity now, and as if this were some sort of signal the other women finally fell upon me, clambering all over me and fighting like cats to get access to any part of my captive anatomy. Firm, taut breasts were rubbed and crushed against me. My erection was suddenly engulfed to the root. And in spite of the tape gag sealing away my lips and tongue a hot, juicy pussy began riding my helpless face. Licking tongues and biting teeth and long, sharp fingernails were suddenly all over me: working tirelessly at my limbs and nipples and navel and sparking delicious sensations from every corner of my body. Buried under a tangled, seething welter of limber feminine forms; chained and gagged and as horny as a hell-cat, I fought for sense and breath, all the while feeling the relentless, slamming thrusts of Big Linda’s ferociously insistent sodomy. Meanwhile moans and groans and cries of pleasure arose all around me, as the women who were denied access to my body turned to each other, pleasuring themselves with slippery lips and nimble fingers and the wicked-looking dildos that sprouted from every groin. Knowledgeable lesbian tongues flickered and danced everywhere, literally thrumming over clits and nipples and tender vaginal labia. Long, elegant legs stretched and flexed: opening wide to expose the pink pleasure center. Pendulously dangling breasts jiggled gelatinously about, swinging and slapping sweetly together as their urgent owners bent to bare their brutally bludgeoned backsides.

Unreal! Buried amid this unbelievable orgiastic tumult, I was hardly aware of Big Linda Skrue finally tiring and slipping from my hole. Nevertheless I felt her replacement immediately. Another artificial cock, this one long and thin and topped by a bulbous, bristle-covered head suddenly speared easily up into me, enthusiastically picking up where Mistress B’Linda had so recently left off.

Once again I was being fucked like a slimy little slut-boy, eagerly whining my mingled pain and pleasure up into the uncaring gag. Thrust after vicious thrust stabbed painfully, insistently up into my aching, open asshole, tearing me up, turning me on. And as soon as the current cock-wielder showed any sign of tiring out or slowing down her frantic rhythm, several more began clamoring for their turn. One after another for hours they all had me, coring me out wider and wider, trading turns only grudgingly and swapping dildos constantly back and forth, arguing over who’s was the most powerful, the most painful, the most devastatingly effective.

Occasionally the pussy smothering me was lifted from my face, and in the brief moment before it was replaced I could see in the ceiling mirror above me an incredible knot of wildly writhing womanhood: pushing and squirming, twisting and thrusting and fucking and sucking in a wonderful tangle of beautifully naked torsos and limbs and breasts and buttocks. Always there were long, hard cocks being frantically pumped and pulled and lunged and plunged and buried everywhere. But regardless of who was fucking whom, and how, for the next several hours there was always a hot wet mouth bobbing on my cock, another sucking and chewing on my balls, a cunt grinding against my face and of course a long line of eager women, all awaiting access to my openly gaping butt-hole.

That was what they really wanted. Regardless of the endless number of breathless, utterly screaming orgasms being enjoyed on all sides, regardless of the myriad carnal delights on hand all around, it seemed that brutally raping and dominating the worthless little slut-boy took precedence over all other sexual pleasures. Indeed, there was one particularly sadistic young woman, called ‘Little Keri Colts’ by the admiring others, who took to drumming my subordinate new status into me with undiminished fervor, going at it with a earnest devotion and single-minded frenzy that was terrifying.

She was the same sweetly petite, overzealously eager and ornamented girl from before, and I had no trouble recognizing her. Yet by now her raving hungers had transformed her, turning her into a diminutive dominatrix of almost demonic proportions. Framed by her rich, honey-blonde hair, this Keri Colts had a sweet, vulnerable quality to her little face that just seemed made for innocence and naiveté. But now her shy, angelic countenance was warped into something entirely new: something once extravagantly hurt and now dangerously vengeful. Set loose at last, the consuming passions that drove her were in full raging flower, ready to be vented on any unfortunate handy target. And vented they were. Alternately gleefully sadistic and viciously angry, set against all men as though they were anathema, Little Keri Colts seemed determined to make my punishing sexual ordeal as painful and humiliating as humanly possible.

She was certainly good at it. She could have shown the most sadistic prison guard in the blackest dungeon of the Soviet gulag a thing or two. As fetchingly slender and petite as Big Linda was tall and voluptuous, Little Keri Colts couldn’t possibly have weighed more than a hundred pounds. Yet she was young, strong, awesomely fit and practically tireless. Not only that, her lithe little teen-aged body gave her a sinuous grace and flexible mobility that she used to devastating effect. Over and over again she wielded her strap-on dildo – an especially long, thick, diamond-hard member with a flat-angled, blocky head and wickedly corrugated shaft – with such boundless energy and reckless abandon that I was constantly afraid she’d rupture something down there. Snarling down at me, slapping at my face and clawing me with her sharp fingernails, she was constantly developing newer rhythms, and speeds, and angles of attack: clever new sexual tactics that kept the intense pain in my damaged rectum rising constantly, continuously, through higher and higher and ever more exciting new thresholds of agonized stimulation.

Screaming with excitement, climbing all over me, she’d lunge and plunge and twist and gouge and hammer herself to exhaustion in a matter of fifteen or twenty excruciating minutes, then shortly be back for more, more. And even when another woman’s turn with me was up she’d still constantly be after me, finding a million new ways to taunt and torment and traumatize my captive male body.

Unfortunately she had ample opportunity. Whatever the history here, whatever secret trauma fueled the engine of her hate she seemed to share some special relationship with Big Mistress Linda. The others deferred to her, treating her with compassion and quiet wonder for her unmentioned past and the current extravagance of her needs. She was regularly allowed free access to me, while the others watched and clapped and cheered her on. Over and over again they urged her to hurt him, hurt him, pay him back, and she delighted in obliging.

Squeezing and twisting my balls, ripping at my sensitive prick-head with her teeth, blowing smoke in my eyes and burning my cheek with the lit joint, even pinching shut my nostrils and giggling at my frantic struggle for breath, she was a constant thorn in my side. Several times she held my nose pinched closed until I passed out, waking only to find her once again burning me or biting me or slamming herself enthusiastically down into my soft, tender little boy-cunt. It was this cruel, heartless little mistress, Great Queen Keri as I began to think of her, who finally brought the orgy to its horrific climax.

After several endlessly inventive hours of painfully humiliating, brutally kinky group sex, she suddenly stopped poking her sharp fingernails at my eyes and declared that it was time for the ‘elephant cocks’ (whatever they were) and suggested that they roll me onto my face “like the disgusting little dog that he is” and have themselves “a good old-fashioned double-dick pig-spitting!” Whatever that was.

Of course her suggestion was greeted with wild enthusiasm, each girl clamoring to wield one of the ‘elephant cocks.’ However, it was quickly decided that such a supreme honor would have to go to B’Linda and Keri: the two most violently brutal bitches around and quite obviously regular lovers. The “Princess and her pussy-maiden” the others called them, cheering as Big Linda and her sidekick exchanged a moment of deep, congratulatory kissing. Fondling each others’ boobs, their tongues searching out the familiar cavities of their lovers’ mouths, B’Linda and Keri worked themselves and their audience into an anticipatory frenzy, setting the stage for an especially outrageous sex act designed to put all others to shame.

Whatever it was they had planned for me I had no idea, but surely it was something special. Despite their exclusion, the rest of the women were clearly more than satisfied with assisting in the preparations, and with being allowed to watch the entertaining spectacle ahead. Chained and helpless, more than a little sore already, I lay there and watched with disbelieving horror as Mistress B’Linda proceeded to go to the tall wooden cabinet and unlock a special hidden compartment. From there she retrieved surely the two largest, most potent-looking dildos in existence.

Each matching one was at least twelve inches long and over two inches thick: gigantic strap-on cocks made of solid, gleaming yellow ivory. Beautifully carved from a single elephant tusk each, they were polished smooth and shaped complete with encircling veins and bulbous, life-like heads.

Japanese characters carved deep into the shaft marked them as priceless artifacts of the imperial past. The girls treated them with an almost reverent awe as they carefully buckled the elaborate oiled-leather harnesses snugly around the waists and crotch of Big Linda Skrue and her little lover Keri Colts. For me, the intended victim, they were a limitlessly terrifying sight.

Curving up and out from the armored mounds of the two girls’ pubis’, they resembled nothing so much as the deadly big cock-tusks of a prehistoric rogue bull mammoth. Stroking and caressing them, tugging and pulling on each other to verify the tightness of their fit, B’Linda and Keri gloated over their monster pricks: cock-battling with them and swaggering around mannishly for the amusement and excitement of their friends. Then at last they turned to me: shivering, grinning, and chuckling with a fiendish anticipation.

Once again I could only lie there and watch, shaking my head in useless denial, as the women quickly crossed the room and sprang onto the bed.

Keys jingled as B’Linda unlocked the cuffs, and I tried my damnedest to leap off the bed, but there were too many women, too many strong arms and hands. And of course, Big Linda Skrue surely could have handled me pretty well all by herself.

In seconds I was pummeled down and beaten to the bed. Then I was seized and flipped over, my arms wrenched painfully around behind my back. Pulling my shoulders nearly out of the sockets, the laughing women overlapped my forearms, holding them tightly together while Keri wrapped the duct tape around and around and around them. In minutes she’d turned my lower arms from elbows to wrists into a tightly wrapped, thick fleshy bar locked perpendicular across the middle of my spine.

Once I was thus secured they seized and lifted me by that bar, causing excruciating agony in the shoulders, and dragged me unceremoniously to the middle of the bed. There they picked me bodily up and flung me face down atop a pile of cushions that someone had just arranged.

Jesus Christ! My ass was thrust high in the air, my head lowered and filling with blood as I faced down the pillowed slope. Then someone’s clawing hand dug underneath and grabbed my still rock-hard cock. My stubborn erection was bent painfully all the way down and back, pulled out between my legs and squashed against the pillows behind, where it continued to pulse and throb and strain with unrequited need in full view of the scornful female audience.

Several pairs of strong hands then immediately seized my ankles, and they wrenched apart my legs, so wide open that I felt like a chicken-splitting wishbone. After that they anchored them firmly out at the sides. Then additional hands quickly gripped and spread my futilely clenched butt-cheeks to their absolute limit. Then I heard and saw and felt Big Linda Skrue move implacably in, preparing to mount me with that inhumanly huge cock.

Now at first I refused to believe it even possible. That giant ivory dildo was so large and hard and potent no asshole should’ve been able to accommodate it, regardless of the extended reaming out I’d already received. Yet Big Linda had the strength to spare and obviously knew what she was doing.

Kneeling behind me on the bed, she grabbed the convenient bar of my overlapping arms to pull against and carefully aligned herself. The cold, round head of that hard ‘elephant cock’ was pressed up against my slick, gaping hole, and with a sudden sledgehammer blow of the hips it was in. Then, although I was already stretched almost to the splitting point, B’Linda simultaneously wrenched back on my arms and gave a series of powerful, heaving lunges that gradually forced it deeper, deeper, despite the incredibly stiff rectal resistance. But once the first several inches were in, her exquisitely pleasurable task got easier.

She started rotating her hips, grinding her mammoth cock around and around, stretching my rubbery asshole out wider and wider, until at last she had me loosened up enough to start up a genuine, hard-fucking rhythm. Then Big Bad Linda Skrue planted her considerable weight above me and began pounding away, bludgeoning that giant, rock-hard cock-club down into my body, getting deeper and deeper with every punishing stroke.

Pig spitting? I don’t know about that, but I definitely felt like a pig splitting. My body seemed to be separating, coming apart at the very middle, as my pelvis strained to accommodate the massive bone spearing deep into it. More fragile by far, the tender flesh of my rectum felt as if it were tearing. With a bit of additional lubrication B’Linda’s eased in further, allowing those savaging, damaging thrusts even greater access. So then she immediately picked up the pace, hammering and tearing and gouging out my tight little manhole like a medieval battering ram run amok.

Ahhhhhhh, Goddess! The pain was excruciating, making what I’d already endured seem like child’s play. Yet in a way it was also queerly compelling, arousing in me a depth of deliciously perverted yearning that I’d never before dreamed of experiencing.

Wielding her monstrous, god-like penis as a weapon, my Big Mistress Linda was like some kind of avenging Amazon queen: brutally raping and sodomizing me, sacrificially torturing the interloping male, punishing me far deeper and more thoroughly than anything dreamed or rumored of in the most horrifying Hollywood jungle epic.

This wasn’t merely sinful decadence; it was downright obscene. Spraddled and skewered, taken from behind like a bitch-dog in heat, I took that tremendous tusk so far up my elevated asshole it was like the very Sword of Judgment. Harder and harder, deeper and deeper, B’Linda Skrue continued to gore way into me, and the deeper she got the more it hurt. Strangely enough, the more she hurt me the better I enjoyed it. Somehow, in some odd way I can hardly articulate, it felt like justice, like the fit punishment of a cruel, vengeful goddess on her stupidly erring subject.

Whatever it was, it was true, it was right, it was mine. Mistress B’Linda knew what I needed. Unfortunately, so did the Great Queen Keri.

As I wept and groveled and groaned joyfully down at the bed, I suddenly felt rough hands seize me by the hair, and my dangling head was jerked violently upward.

At first I could see nothing but a terrifyingly close, head-on view of the mate of the giant ivory cock that was currently coring me out. It looked even huger and fatter and more threatening against the picturesque backdrop of those slim, beautifully curved little hips. Then I saw the tattoos, and taut, slender thighs spread and braced below me. I realized this was Little Keri Colts, kneeling in front of my flushed, hanging, hotly humiliated face.

Pulling on my longish brown hair, she dragged my reluctant gaze up: past her delicate, leather-clad waist, past her smooth, flat little belly (that sexy diamond ring flashing in her navel), past the beautifully taut cones and stiff, peg-like nipples of her perfect little breasts (so sharply, hardly erect that they probably could’ve put an eye out), and finally up into the vindictive glare of those fiery green eyes.

“Now, Slut-boy!” Keri Colts screamed down into my wincing face. “Now, you disgusting little animal! Now you’re gonna suck my cock!

“You’re gonna suck it like the faggy little pig-slut-whore that you are! You’re gonna suck it like I did, a helpless, innocent teen-ager, raped for weeks on end by my asshole crack-addict ex-boyfriend and his loser drug buddies!”

Seething with resentment, she glared down at me, daring me to imagine the torments she’d once endured at the hands of my kind.

“Why, if B’Linda hadn’t rescued me and made me her own, I probably would have killed myself by now! But she taught me! She taught me what to do with my hatred! It’s payback time, male! For him! Them! Every one of you animals!”

Eyes flashing with rage, she momentarily digressed. “Of course, that dirty bastard’s already been paid in full! But you haven’t paid! You and every other pig-dog-male in this world still owe me! So now you’re gonna suck! You’re gonna suck and suck and suck and suck me off like your very life depends on it! And who knows, maybe it even does. I’m not nearly finished with you yet! So open your snout, you filthy little pig! Here it comes!”

And with that terrifying speech, Little Keri Colts at last ripped the strip of tape from my mouth – taking what felt like a substantial portion of skin with it – and gripping me tightly by the face she forced that long, hard, wickedly protruding penis in.

Smooth, cold, larger than a hen’s egg, the rounded ivory head was rammed between my teeth, stretching my tender lips wide around the shaft.

This was a novel experience for me, to say the least, but for my own sake I was determined to satisfy Keri’s every requirement. Obediently I began sucking, pulling on that prodigious pecker for all I was worth, but unfortunately B’Linda’s pounding rhythm from above and behind kept forcing me further and further down onto it, filling my mouth with rock-hard cock and gagging me helplessly.

This brought cheers and jeers and gleeful cries of “Spitted pig! Spitted pig!” from all around, and suddenly more strong hands seized my hair, yanking my head quickly, professionally all the way up and back.

This opened my helpless throat as wide as humanly possible, and cruel, wicked Great Queen Little Keri Colts immediately forced her giant, up-curved elephant cock mercilessly into me, fucking my gaping gullet like a pussy.

Oh man, this was the worst torture I’d ever endured!

With my head stretched all the way back my soft throat was open like a drain, and that massive ivory truncheon plunged right up and in. Then briskly Great Queen Keri’s sweet, curvy little hips pumped it relentlessly back and forth and back and forth and in and out and in and out, rudely invading my esophagus and making me gag and retch and choke uncontrollably.

Thank god I’d skipped dinner, or I’d surely have been puking violently, perhaps strangling to death on my own bile. As it was I was gradually able to get myself under control. Somehow I suppressed my instinctive gag reflex and closed my eyes, feeling Keri’s long, hard cock slam deeper and deeper up into me. And of course, all the moaning while my other evil mistress, the powerful Serb princess Big Linda Skrue, continued to use that other elephantine prick to bludgeon her merciless way further and further and further down into my screaming, straining, dangerously stretched back door.

Unbe-fucking-lievable. Under this unreal double assault time slowed to a crawl. I was literally so out of touch, so utterly blown away that to this day I’m still not sure how long it went on. Rudely bent over the pile of pillows, with my openly dilated ass thrust high in the air and my helpless head hung low, most of my weight was at the mercy of gravity and B’Linda’s pneumatic rhythm. Harder and harder she pounded down into me, simultaneously splitting me open wider and driving me remorselessly down onto Great Queen Keri’s own huge, hard, rhythmically up-thrusting pecker.

Struggling with my gorge, taking what felt like a marble fist and forearm up each orifice, I felt the tears of pain and shame streaming down my face and dripping continuously off my chin. Spread out wide, inverted and on my belly, I fought desperately, miserably for breath, mindlessly enduring. It went on and on forever it seemed, both of these women wielding their potent phallic weapons with consummate power and skill.

Meanwhile murmurs and gasps and cries of amazement came from the congregation, watching me take more and more and more of those impossibly huge, bone-hard cocks into both open ends. Soon all twenty-four inches of artificial penis were regularly plunging in and out and in and out of me, stuffing and filling my faggy little pig-holes to their absolute limit.

It was a feat worthy of some mystical Tibetan yogi, yet B’Linda Skrue and Keri Colts remained un-mollified: cursing and snarling and thrusting away, sneering contemptuously down at me as they committed their brutal double rape. Finally, lost in a hazy world of exquisitely painful defilement, I heard from somewhere seemingly far above me my mistress Little Keri snarl with deep, heart-felt vindication and hiss darkly.

“You fucking pig, I wish this thing could come right into your fucking mouth! I’d pump about a gallon of dirty, filthy, elephant-cock semen right down your fucking throat! You little cocksucker! Or maybe I’d just spray a big, hot load all over your stupid sheep’s face! That’s what you really deserve! You worthless, disgusting, pathetic little pig-dog-goat-male!”

Instead she grabbed my taped arms herself to increase her already considerable leverage and picked up the pace, ramming herself harder and harder, deeper and deeper up into my descending throat, working herself like mad and challenging B’Linda to match her rhythm.

Red flag to a bull. She accepted, of course, and they began to race, impaling me viciously from above and below. They drove themselves far beyond the normal limits of stamina. Meanwhile the other girls clapped and catcalled and cheered them on, stretching my cheeks ever wider, my head ever further back, laughing and screaming with unbridled excitement.

And still Big Linda and her Little Keri Colts held tight to my arms, leaning back against each other’s weight and just pounding and pounding and pounding away. They worked me harder and harder, and as their stabbing speed escalated my spitted-pig little body began to rock and jump and slide rapidly back and forth on the bed between them.

Again: unbelievable. Despite my anchored arms and ankles, despite the fists gripping my hair and holding me firm, I began to slip briskly up and down the satiny slope, roughly riding the pile of pillows under the powerful influence of their desperate, panting rhythm.

Oh man, this was just too much! Beat me, humiliate me, damn me to hell for it, it was too much! Utterly emasculated, streaming with sweat and blood and wet, salty tears, suffering tortures undreamed of in the darkest depths of Hades, I suddenly felt my pain, humiliation and uncontrollable arousal finally merge in a weird, fantastic stew of total hormonal overload.

Needs and emotions and biological chemicals as alien to me as my female tormentors finally took over from my brain, coercing responses from my brutalized body I’d never in a million years want to admit to.

Deep in a black, masochistic abyss, strangling for air and breath and yes, even life, with my painfully straining prick rubbing roughly, continuously back and forth against the opposite side of the pillow mound, I finally began to get so hard and hot and horny I thought I might actually explode.

My excruciatingly bent cock burned like a rod of molten metal; my bruised balls were twin suns and my mind was a churning, whirling maelstrom of conflicting bodily sensations. Eventually I had no choice but to give in to the incredible pressure of my desperately perverted arousal and blow my filthy load: spewing hot wet seed out all over B’Linda’s beautiful silk pillowcase.

Seeing this happen at last, my evil female captors screamed in wild triumph. B’Linda and Keri screamed as well, escalating their synchronous rhythm in a final succession of incredibly deep, painfully driving thrusts.

These soon had them kneeling practically face-to-face, their heavy harnesses bumping and bruising and bashing my snout and faggy little fuck-holes and their pounding, pistoning hips slamming and crunching and compressing my captive body between them.

Hooting and hollering, sneering with derision, they continued jack hammering away for several long minutes, rubbing my face in this last, most obvious sign of my willing submission. But then, when blood started dripping from my mashed nose and lips as well as my violated asshole they finally seemed satisfied. They stopped, backed off, and pulled their long, hard, deeply buried lengths all the way out of me.

Panting, dripping with sweat and lubricating mucus, they smugly accepted the praise, wonder and adulation of their comrades. Then as I lay there gasping and bleeding and retching beneath them they turned to the matter of my unauthorized ejaculation.

Pointing to the evidence glistening on the pillow, they gathered together and held a brief, animated consultation about how to best punish such a ‘seminal indiscretion.’ After considering and discarding several horrifying alternatives – including castration and outright murder (Keri’s suggestions both), they finally decided to deliver one last, especially vicious beating. If pain was what made me hot, Big Linda declared, I could have it in spades.

Face down on that large pile of pillows, elevated in the middle of the bed, with my throat and rectum aflame with agony and my numb, cramped arms still securely taped behind me, I endured this somehow fitting punishment like everything else: with no choice and a strange, perversely reluctant enjoyment. First one of the women retrieved the pillow that I’d spewed upon (spitefully tweaking and twisting my cock and slapping around my balls as she did so), and Little Keri Colts at last got to make good on at least one of her threats.

Sneering down at me, she rubbed the soiled pillowcase all over my face, wiping the spent shame of my ejaculate off onto my lips and chin and cheeks and letting it dry there to a humiliating, incriminating, spunky-smelling milky crack-glaze.

This ultimate in degradation was nearly unbearable, and every time I licked my spilt, puffy lips I could taste my own come. The shameful, secret joy this gave me made me almost yearn for punishment, and they didn’t disappoint me. Four and five and even six at a time, using whips and crops and wide leather belts, the assembled lesbians took turns beating my bound arms, spread legs, shoulders, back, and raw, red, helplessly elevated buttocks until at last they got all of their violent female aggressions out.

Of course, B’Linda and Keri were again the worst, swinging a pair of cunningly modified canoe paddles with long, two-handed grips and wide, heavy wooden blades that had been drilled full of holes to increase the power and velocity of every swing.

Meanwhile another massive antique dildo, this one actually made of carved and polished soapstone, was brought out and inserted into my still too-open anus. Once it was almost flush, B’Linda and Keri resumed their paddling pace, driving it deeper, deeper down into me, again splitting my cheeks apart like a wedge.

Eventually my stuffed-full ass and my legs went completely numb, my brain shutting down all contact from that excessively traumatized region. Then I could only tell the force of the blows by the incredible power with which they pounded me down into the pillows. Yet still they continued, blow after blow: bruising my ass, with Little Keri Colts screaming out her wild, wonderfully cathartic exaltation as she beat me half to death.

And of course, all the horrible while the other girls continued whipping me, stropping me, clawing and slapping me, pulling my hair, pinching and punching and poking me, burning me with lit cigarettes and joints and doing everything they could think of to savage and abuse my helpless body. At the height of their manic frenzy, blows and spittle rained down on me from all sides, and no outrageously inventive torture was too extreme to be tried.

Oh man, don’t even talk to me about pain! Nearly every accessible inch of my body was under constant attack. Yet still somehow every incremental increase in agony was welcome, necessary. And of course now that the gag was off they also forced me to beg them for it, extorting all kinds of humiliating confessions, professions and pleas out of me despite the ravaged condition of my throat. Yes Mistresses! No Mistresses! Yes, Keri! No, Keri! Yes, yes, yes! Yes, I love it, I need it, I do, more, more, please! They made me yelp and bleat and cry and wail and scream long after I was too hoarse to even be heard. But finally as six o’clock in the morning rolled around, this strange group of cruelly vengeful lesbians at last grew sated with torturing me. One by one they gave it up, stripping off their leather and rubber and chains, removing their long, potent dildos, gradually dressing again and slowly making for the big double doors. Even Little Keri finally tired out, but only after delivering one last series of especially vicious, punishing strokes: powerful sledgehammer blows that had her strong Serbian lover Big Linda Skrue enfolding her with her lush, womanly body and lending her own muscular arms to the paddle.

This more than doubled their effective force. I lay broken and bloodied and sobbing wildly in the purest abject misery before her, Little Keri Colts finally dropped the paddle and curled up on the corner of the bed. My racking sobs must have been a heavenly lullaby to her, for soon she was quietly, peacefully asleep.

Meanwhile the other girls chattered happily, thanking and complimenting the hostess, saying “My god, B’Linda, that was so great, what a perfect little slut-boy, where’d you find him?” Several of them even took keepsake snapshots of me in my misery, posing with me sobbing in my bonds, grinning as they took turns thrusting their come-sticky cocks up my throat, mounting my tender rear, or lashing me one final time with the whip. At last they were all gone, and after first refreshing herself with a drink and a cigarette, B’Linda Skrue finally returned to the bed.

Ignoring my groans and sobs and whimpers of fear, she drew out a long, black-handled switchblade, kissed and caressed her Little Keri awake, and then clicked it open.

Like a cat full of milk, Keri rubbed herself lazily against the generous flank of her mistress, toying with her tits and belly and wet pink cunt. Entwined on the bed together they cuddled for a while, kissing and whispering and playing with the knife. Big Linda seemed almost motherly toward Keri as she coaxed her back into action, and it took several minutes. At last Keri gave an eerie whine and buried herself between those columnar legs. Soon she was eating B’Linda like the finest chocolate, and I lay helpless and forgotten in my bonds as they exchanged a series of screaming, heaving orgasms. But then at last they recalled their unfinished business and crawled over to me, brandishing the knife and grinning at my obvious terror.

Big Linda climbed atop my body, dropping her weight heavily down between my taped-up arms and my stone-stuffed ass. The breath whooshed out of me, and first she teased me – or was it a threat? – by twining a fist in my hair, yanking back my gasping head and gently tracing a line over my throat, from ear to ear with the sharp tip of her blade.

“You know, where I come from, this is what we do to POWs,” she hissed.

“Yes!” urged Keri from somewhere nearby, sounding scared and eager and angry all at once. “He deserves it! He’s worthless little male! And he could go to the cops after this!”

“No he won’t,” remarked B’Linda, sounding consummately sure of herself. “We don’t have a thing to worry about. He knows what’ll happen to him if he so much as says a peep to anyone. Don’t you, Slut-boy?” She yanked harder on my hair, pulling my head even farther up and back and once again pricking my tender throat with the knife. Blood started trickling. “Besides, he liked it. Look at him, with his own filthy come dried all over his ugly face! He loved every fucking bit of it. Didn’t you Slut-boy?

Again she yanked on my hair, this time pulling some more of it out, and in desperate fear for my life I could only nod, watching Keri Colts’ pretty face twist in disappointment.

“But I want to see his blood – more of it anyway,” she amended with a giggle. Then suddenly, with the quickness of a striking snake, her long, sharp fingernails slashed viciously out and clawed my helpless face, marring me spitefully.

I could feel the blood trickling down my neck. I cringed and squealed and thrashed with terror. But B’Linda’s grip held firm in my hair, and with her weight on my back and her knife at my throat I was helpless. I could barely breathe.

Keri’s vengeful eyes glittered with malice, as she looked down at me. For a moment, I thought she was about to blind me. I didn’t know whether she was deathly serious or merely trying to terrify me. But fortunately B’Linda only chuckled indulgently, pushing Keri’s hands away. Angry, disappointed, Keri spat in my face, again and again, adding her saliva and phlegm to the mix of blood and come already soiling me. Big Linda chuckled at this, and then, while Little Keri watched eagerly, approvingly, she turned around to confront my brutalized buttocks.

Like a sculptor or painter signing her masterwork or an ancient slave-master branding one of her charges, she used the razor-sharp point of her blade to carve something – either her initials or some kind of weird, arcane symbol – into the bruised-black flesh of one of my whipped raw, grossly swollen ass-cheeks. Immediately I knew I was scarred for life, and in more ways than one. Then my ultimate soul mistress Big Linda Skrue handed over the knife, and she let her lesbian lover Little Keri Colts do the other cheek. Dangerous move.

Great Queen Keri went at it with a savage gusto. Then the heavy stone dildo filling my rectum was wiggled and wriggled and suddenly wrenched out, leaving a hollow, trickling emptiness that felt like it would never be filled. At last, with a few quick, deft strokes of the knife, my mad little female tormentor cut the tape securing my dead arms and ripped it away.

Immediately they rolled me off the giant bed and onto the floor, tumbling me painfully down onto the pile of clothes that I’d shed so blithely the night before.

“Get out while you can, little animal!” B’Linda snapped, pointing at the door. Whipped raw, dangerously butt-bruised and aching inside and out, I was barely able to feel much less use my arms. Unable to stand and walk or even struggle into my clothes, I somehow gathered them up and crawled for the door, knowing it would be weeks – if ever – before I could look myself in the eye again.

I almost didn’t make it. I collapsed several times on the way. And before I made it halfway through the labyrinthine halls of Big Linda’s palatial house (B’Linda laughing derisively and Keri kicking me along as I went), I knew I’d need the hospital as well – although I had no idea what I was going to tell them. The incredibly sordid, humiliating truth I would take with me to the grave. But finally I made it outside, into the first meager light of dawn. And the last thing my Mistress B’Linda said to me before slamming shut the door seemed to cap the entire horrible, demeaning, yet perversely arousing affair.

“See you Monday morning, Slut-boy, and you’d better be there, on time. Although if I were you I’d find a new job – either that or get out of town. That was a two-way mirror over the bed and I’ve got it all on live video. Every cocksucking, corn-holing, come-spewing minute of it. If I ever get any trouble out of you, every last soul in this town, from your mother to your brother to your very best friend, is going know how you willingly took every last thing we could possibly dish out and still came your worthless brains out!” I felt my face go burning crimson, and yet once again my cock began to perversely stiffen, confirmation of my hopeless thralldom. Then after a pause B’Linda added the ultimate threat.

“Also, I think my sweet Little Keri here took a fancy to you.” A familiar malicious giggle came from out of the shadowy foyer. “If you stick around long enough she might just ask me to capture you again!” B’Linda gave a slow, private laugh at this. “And I just might do it. I do indulge her so! So live with that if you can, Slut-boy-man!”

And with that Big Linda slammed shut the door and was gone, leaving me to struggle my slow way over to the car and back into some kind of pointless, worthless life. If I stayed or if I went, whatever I did now or wherever I finally ended up, I knew I’d always know one thing for sure. I’d never, ever, not in a million years, forget my time in the hands of the powerful mistresses Big Linda Skrue and Little Keri Colts. And I’d never, ever dare to mistreat a woman.

That was one lesson I’d learned only too damn well.

Author’s Note

I find the genesis of a personal fetish endlessly fascinating, and enlightening to share with others of similar bent. Here’s my story, for whatever it’s worth. I hope it provides insight, or at least passing interest to others enamored with female domination.

I was conquered by womanhood in high school, at the hands of my first real lover. We had typical beginner’s vanilla sex at every opportunity for at least a year. Then one unforgettable Christmas changed everything. I gave Jean a ring she’d been particularly coveting. She gave me, probably inadvertently, a lifetime craving for sexual submission.

We had returned to her parents’ house from some insufferable family function in the early afternoon. The place was empty, and as soon as we entered the living room Jean suddenly spun me around and violently ripped off my ‘Sunday best’ clothes. Her own dress followed, and she shoved me roughly down onto the middle of the couch. Ignoring my sputtering protests she immediately straddled me, grabbed my head and ground her gorgeous breasts into my face. Feral and aggressive, she squirmed in my lap and attacked me with her tits until I thought I’d go insane. Finally she mounted me and fucked my brains absolutely OUT. It was by far the best sex I’ve ever had, even to this day. I was so simultaneously shocked and turned on by her unexpected aggression that I had no defense to it. Submitting to her sexually just struck some irresistible chord deep within me. From that point on I was never truly fulfilled unless I was the one on the bottom.

We did it in the car that way all the time, with me slouched in the middle of the back seat while Jean straddled and rode me silly. We did it anywhere Jean could find a chair to push me down into. Even in the illicit luxury of her parents’ bed, we always made love with her in the superior position. And soon we were dabbling in things like bondage, spanking and mutual masturbation. To this day I’ve been contemplating ever more insane depravities, trying to recapture the overwhelmingly compelling arousal I felt at being brusquely stripped, roughly shoved down and violently ridden to an apocalyptic mutual orgasm by my smirking girlfriend. The dominant, sexually aggressive female has become an icon for me, inspiring dozens of ever-more lurid and pornographic fantasies – and some amazingly rewarding realities.

It’s rather ironic that a few years after Jean and I split I suffered a broken neck in a diving accident. Now I am indeed condemned to the submissive position when it comes to sex. And as a C-5 quadriplegic I’m also subject to much daily pain, humiliation, dependence and physical indignity at the hands of female caregivers. Mixing these two situations may not be very professional, but that hasn’t stopped me from developing some wonderfully kinky relationships with some of my more attractive and adventuresome aides and nurses. Now if only I could find one willing to marry me, to pin me down, ride and rule over me night and day for the rest of my existence…

In the meantime, I write ever more outrageous stories: paying the only homage I can to the glorious Goddess whose earthly incarnation I yearn more for all the time. May she find me soon! In any case, I hope you’ve enjoyed the preceding stories. Expect many more to come from my tireless pen!

Other Titles by Lance Edwards

Novels:

The Professor’s Pet

Sins of the Sitter

Femdom Short Story Collections:

Slut Boy: Stories of Female Domination

Slut Boy: Back Door Blues, More Stories of Female Domination

Hog-tied & Electrified: More Slut-boy Stories

Caught, Taught, Tamed & Trained, More Slut-boy Stories

Whips, Chains & Wicked Women, Slut-boy Stories

Tales of Love & Cruelty

Tales of Female Depravity

Judge, Jury & Jailor and Other Tales of Female Domination

To order these titles, or for a complete catalog of Erotic Fiction,

write, email, call or visit our website…

Pink Flamingo Publications

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