Mistress Debbie

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Best709
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Awaiting the whipping --I truly felt fear. Up to that point I still felt as if I were a person and not a thing--drinking piss, eating shit, but knew a profound change was about to occur.

The first stroke surprised and relieved me; the next several came in lightening fashion, further lighting up my already inflamed ass and legs. The pain was more than I realized it could be.

At about ten strokes I could hear her masturbating and groaning in delight as she laid into my ass with the whip because the tempo of the strokes had slowed and changed --but intensified in force—and at this point I lost true awareness of everything but the pain. I passed into another domain; between strokes only a flicker of thoughts at first--I wanted the whip and I didn’t want it, and, with each further touch of the whip, I lost all sense of reality and I began to sense –what happened within me is beyond description.

Yes, only extreme pain as the lashes caressed my flesh, but from the moment I first saw her wearing boots earlier, I entered what I call ”the slave state,” a submissive erotized turn-on. But what went on in my head as the whipping progressed I have to call an ultimate slave state. And, at some point, it seemed she intensified the rhythm and intensity as eventually I did cum.

Suddenly, I was aware of only the after-glow of the whipping and the Ben Gay; no more lashes rained over me. I couldn’t believe my thoughts: I wanted to beg her to beat me more, to return me to that ultimate slave state. It wasn’t a debatable feeling or thought; it was the cry of my deepest needs and want, and I was only surprised at how potent this feeling was. Everybody was right: Mistress Debbie for terminating our friendship because if I sense her now I will fall immediately into a slave-state. The beating had destroyed what’s left of me and all that remains is the slave. The slave-state will be a permanent consciousness. So the therapist was right because I wanted more, and so was I because I felt at home, wanting to kneel before her 24-7 and live in the ultimate slave state forever.

The rope was being untied; nothing was being said. I was soon just kneeling on the chair. The ball gag was removed and the plastic bag was held under my mouth. I spit the panties into the bag.

“On your knees before me, slave.”

Kneeling before her I couldn’t raise my eyes; all I could do---stare at her boots. The remnants of the beating and the Ben Gay lingered, but all else was a blank. I could only wait for her to speak, to command.

“So…slave…what do you have to say to me?”

“Mistress, thank you for treating me like the slave I am. I only want to serve you in whatever why you seem proper. I beg you to beat me again, to piss down my throat, to torture me with your superior mind and allow me to gaze on your body.”

“Show me your thank you by licking my boots, slave.”

And slavishly I groveled before her, licking and sucking her boots. She raised her boot and said, “Lick the soles clean, slave. This is your proper place before me, and, yes, I will beat you again—Mary Lou and I will do so Wednesday. Pick me after work and we’ll go to her home for a two or three hour session. There you will have the pleasure of serving both of us and being beaten with two riding crops—together and separately. Mary Lou can’t wait to use the strap-on on you. Today—I wasn’t in the mood for it, but on Wednesday you can believe we’ll use them on you, slave. Why lookie there—your dick is hard again. Jackoff for me as you clean my boots—and when you cum—cum on my boots for a spit shine.”

I reached back and jerked the devil maddeningly as I licked her soles clean. And within a few minutes I was ready to shoot—and shoot I did all over her boots. And when I finished she said, “Now—lick the cum off. Get it all, slave."

And I did—every last drop and remaining glaze of my cum.

“Well, Carroll will here to pick me up any minute, slave. Stay home and Jackoff all day today…and tonight…and all the time—even at work. Lick and suck your rug clean of my piss. Chew the panties when you jackoff—I have a left a bowl of piss and shit in your bathroom for dinner. Eat it all later. I may call with further instructions during the week”…and a horn blared outside the door…”Remember, jackoff all the time and think of serving me.”

With a swift movement her boot she ripped from my hand and dressed and then left. I stayed kneeling there staring at the floor for several minutes after I heard the door close behind her before retrieving the panties and jackingoff again and again. Later, I knelt before the toilet, but could only smell it and jackoff. I flushed it and went to sleep.

Part Five: Mistress Mary Lou’s

Carroll, a man of seventy plus years and Debbie’s business partner, answered the door and said Debbie would a few minutes. He told me to wait right there in an atypical unfriendly tone. When she walked into the room my eyes immediately looked down. I knelt and was breathing heavily.

“Stand up. Here…take this,” and she handed me a tablet and a glass of water.

“It’s a 100 tab of Viagra, courtesy of Carroll. It’ll kick in about the time we reach Mary Lou’s.”

I swallowed the tablet greedily. Then, from her directions, picked up the travel bag of goodies next to the wall and we got in the car.

We arrived at 7:15 PM after a mostly silent drive—only directions on where to turn, et cetera from Mistress Debbie. I drove with Mistress Mary Lou’s panties in my mouth --which had been in the bag all that time fermenting—and a constant hardon.

Mistress Mary Lou, a woman of 50 years or so--her body in great shape, had an ass that many women half her age would’ve died for. She wore high heels, a see-thru Teddy and the strap-on, the black, thick ten inch monster hanging menacingly between her legs—and she sort of took control upon entering. Mistress Debbie disappeared into another room.

“Remove your clothes and place them in this box, slave,” Mistress Mary Lou ordered.

From the moment I first saw Mistress Debbie and in the forty-five minutes in the car I was already erect and submerged in the slave state. Fear and anticipation of slave training with two women—one of whom whose cruelty I already knew and experienced and the other one who really disliked me and wanted nothing else but to torture me was an engine of powerful force, and the Viagra was kicking in because amazingly I was even harder than ever before.

Now, before this other woman I felt the slave state deepening, so as I became naked my cock stood out in ultimate glory. I averted my eyes to the floor, but did take many glimpses of the dildo between her legs. I noticed its head was extremely bulbous and wider than any cock I had ever taken before in my life. And this one would never, ever go soft.

She turned and picked up a collar and a chain leash from a table next to her. About my neck she secured the collar and let the chain hang down my front; handcuffs she placed about my wrists as I turned around and presented my hands behind me.

She picked up the leash and yanked on it and said, “Follow me, slave.”

To the basement and out into a double garage we walked with her pulling me along behind her with yanks of the chain almost at every step. She positioned me so a rope hanging from the ceiling was easily secured to the cuffs, and then she pulled on the rope so my hands went up as far as they could, with the effect of bending me over. She tied the rope off and now all I could do was stare at the floor. She turned off the light and closed the door behind her in silence as she left me there.

In the dark fear grew in me and anticipation of what was to come. A riding crop was a lot different than the cat Mistress Debbie used, so fear is all I recall—not even how long I hung suspended before Mistress Mary Lou returned. She was joined by Mistress Debbie after a minute.

“It couldn’t look me in the face when it got here,” Mistress Mary Lou began. “Its total demeanor was submissive; you had a great session with it.”

“Oh, yeah, when it came tonight, Carroll said to me…that piece of shit slave is out in the hall, his cock bulging out of his pants already. And when I entered the room, its eyes averted to the floor and it knelt immediately. Your advice was perfect, and now it must feel your strength. When you’re through with it, it’ll never be able to look you in the eyes.”

The crop landed like a freight train into my ass and before the total pain spread through me, a second, then a third, and so on fell on me with suddenness and pain, so that within moments my body was quaking and trembling beyond control and tears streamed from my eyes as the crop found its mark. How many landed is impossible to tell; all I know is whatever pain I felt before was nothing compared to what was now delivered. I passed into another world, an even deeper slave state.

Words at first came into my mind as if from a long hallway, Mistress Mary Lou’s voice speaking right in my ear: “Have you had enough of the crop, slave?”

My head shook yes, and a second later the crop landed several more times. The same question again, but this time she grabbed my cock, jacking it off slowly. Its extreme hardness surprised me and brought me back to a sense of reality. I shook my head yes again—she continued jacking me off until I came with a powerful explosion over and over; she continued jacking it off after I finished, going on and on as I moaned in pain for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, she let it go; my arms were lowered. I knelt immediately. The gag was removed. Mistress Mary Lou stood before me. I stared at her high heels, my body trembling; pain a permanent visitor residing on my ass and the back of my thighs, and my mind a shredded remnant of anything resembling sanity. She shifted her feet and I jumped like a dog about to be beat by its master. Two or three more times she did this with the same result, and they began laughing together.

“Look at me, slave,” Mistress Mary Lou ordered. And I tried to raise my eyes. But something held me back. I wanted to obey but couldn’t. “Look at me, slave, or you’ll get more of the crop.”

My neck strained and at the level of the dildo, I broke down crying and pleading, “Mistress, I can’t look at you, but please don’t use the crop on me again, please—anything but that, please,” and my eyes went to the floor.

Mistress Mary Lou placed the gag in my mouth; she ordered me to stand, and I did. The rope was tied to my arms and pulled up even tighter. And I heard words that truly frightened me, “Here, Debbie; it wouldn’t obey me, so punish it some more; you take a turn with the crop. It really wants more of the crop, but can’t admit it —and look at its cock--still as hard as ever, even though it just shot a load.”

God, she was right; I wanted more --but couldn’t ask for it--all I could do was cry and tremble. Mistress Mary Lou was a natural dominate, cruel, sadistic, imaginative.

“Oh, yes, I’m wet just watching you kick its ass with this devilish device. I’m going to masturbate while cropping it, so if you don’t want to watch I’ll understand.”

“No, go right ahead. I think that’s a marvelous idea. But wait—why don’t I join you?”

“It’s crying already and we haven’t touched it, so with us both on its ass --we can reduce it to a blithering idiot,” Mistress Debbie answered.

“It’s that already, dear. There are some areas of his ass and legs without marks.”

A few minutes passed; I heard some whispering, but couldn’t make out what was being said. My mind was a flushing toilet, swirling, emptying, and any precise recollection of the next several minutes is beyond my power. The crop strokes came in a one-two fashion from either side; by the third stroke I was too far gone into pain to recall anything. Suffice it to say, I was a further blithering idiot within seconds, crying, screaming into the gag, begging—unheard and unheeded --and then at some point the rain of crop strokes ended.

How long after it ended that I became aware that I was still hanging by my arms with an enflamed rear-end in the dark—and, amazingly, a raging hardon still—is impossible. But at some point the light came on and my Mistresses came back. Both came to my front end. Mistress Mary Lou picked up head by grabbing my hair so I could see both were wearing a strap-on.

Mistress Debbie undid the gag. Both dildoes were poised at my mouth—“Open your mouth, slave!” both said almost simultaneously. And Mistress Mary Lou’s enormous black dildo filled my mouth. The other Mistress grabbed me by the hair and lifted my head so Mistress Mary Lou could slide her dildo straight into my mouth and then deeply into my throat; she pulled back so I could breathe and then slowly began to fuck my mouth with deep strokes and a powerful rhythm. She managed to shove at least 8.5 inches of the ten down my throat on her longest stroke, and then they switched places. Mistress Debbie’s was 8 inches and not as thick, so hers went straight down my throat, and she fucked my mouth with even more abandon, managing to shove it down so far that my nose was flattened against the leather base of the strap-on.

From behind me Mistress Mary Lou grabbed my hardon and balls and pulled them back up under my ass, “It’s as hard as when we started, and I think it enjoys this too much,” Mistress Mary Lou said.

“Then fuck it without lube,” Mistress Debbie suggested.

“Yes, and I have an idea,” Mistress Mary Lou said as she released my balls and went for something. When she came back, I could feel metal being attached to my balls and then they were pulled back. Apparently she attached a bungee-cord to my balls and attached the other end to the back of her strap-on. I then felt the head of her dildo being position at my asshole and the stretch was painful, almost ripping my balls out by the roots. Mistress Debbie was still fucking my mouth in an ever-increasing rhythm as the bulbous head of the strap-on pushed against my sphincter. Mistress Mary Lou’s hands were spreading my ass cheeks as far as they would go and the head of the strap-on slowly stretched me until in a powerfully painful plop the head tore into my insides. This gave some relief to my balls but added the searing pain of entry.

Mistress Mary Lou pushed as hard as she could and the monster slowly found its way all the way up into me. “I’ve hit bottom and I still have and inch or two to go.”

“Fuck its brains out,” Mistress Debbie said.

The two of them assaulted me from both ends. Mistress Debbie would plunge to the hilt so I was being smothered, and then she’d slowly withdraw until she found the spot where I could take a breath; as soon as I breathed she then plunge back down to the hilt—over and over, staying longer at full thrust each time, gagging me. Mistress Mary Lou would pull back, tearing at my balls as she did --and then ramming back in again, trying each time to go deeper. On and on they went….

The pain and pleasure melted within me as these dildoes tore me apart; my cock was throbbing and finally it exploded, over and over, cumming almost with each stroke of the dildoes. It seemed to go on forever.

“It’s cumming—and without permission!” I heard someone say.

Mistress Mary Lou pulled out and so did Mistress Debbie. My asshole felt as if a freight train had run up it, and my throat was sore. And I hung there, heavily panting like a dog in heat, wanting more—of what? Unbelievably, I wanted more of everything. But I could not speak or think—only a feeling of great lust to be dominated by these two Amazons of punishment.

Mistress Debbie left the garage and Mistress Mary Lou appeared in front of me, her black monster hovering before my eyes --covered with my ass. “Open wide, Shiteater. Mistress Debbie told me how much you love it, so since you shot a load without asking you can clean my cock.”

I eagerly gobbled her cock, sucking and licking, gagging and suffocating in spats—and swallowing. Saliva dripped from my mouth as she drilled my throat.

Mistress Debbie returned. “Is it doing a good job cleaning your cock?” she asked.

“Yes, it is, and you sure were right; it loves to eat its own ass. No hesitations just slurp, slurp. It can’t wait to taste ours—right, Shiteater?”

“Carroll called. That big piece came tonight and I got hours of gold-leafing to do, so I gotta go as soon as possible.”

“Too bad, but I understand,” and she pulled out.

Mistress Debbie lowered the rope and un-cuffed me. Get dressed, asshole,” she said as I realized she had brought my clothes down with her. I sat on the floor and tried to use my arms and dress.

“You said next weekend you were going to open both days, but were too busy to play with it?

“Yeah, why?”

“I want it over here Friday night, and since Pat is opening for me both days, I want to play with it from Friday night to Monday morning. I’ll let it go at 6 AM so it can get to work. Is that all right with you?” Mistress Mary Lou asked.

“No problem: only one condition; I can call when I get a chance and you can update me as to what’s goin’ on?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll order it over here straight from work on Friday; it should be here by six or so; is that good for you?”

“Perfect.”

“Are you going to do what I think?” Mistress Debbie asked.

“”Yeah, haven’t finalized it yet, but it looks like a go.”

“That would be sensational to see.” Mistress Debbie said.

“If it’s possible, I’ll video tape it for you.”

Mistress Debbie responded with a truly girlish tone of delight: “Fabulous idea.”

Finally, dressed, Mistress Debbie stuffed my mouth full of panties, and I drove her home in almost complete silence, except for being ordered to come to Mary Lou’s place for the weekend.

Part Six: The Toy

Mistress Debbie called just as I got home from work on Monday, giving me a list of things to do. She was short and to the point, having me get a pen and paper and write down my tasks and read them back to her.

Bring four Viagra for the weekend; take one at my place for Friday evening.

Ordered a new toy; it will be here by Friday for you.

$75 cost added to your total; whatever I sell on weekend of yours will be deducted from your total.

Advice: jackoff as much as possible this week—you’ll discover why Friday.

Cut an opening in your trousers like you told me you did in Junior High so you can access your dick and jackoff at work at least twice a day.

Shave all your pubic hair as soon as we get off the phone and shave it daily—especially hairs around your asshole.

And don’t wear your cock ring

She was satisfied after I read back my list of tasks.

“Now, slave, answer me this: “Do you regret becoming our slave?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Good, I know Mary Lou and I are glad, and I also know Mary Lou reminds you of your mother. Does Mary Lou turn you on more than me? Answer honestly, slave.”

“Yes, to some extent, Mistress.”

“Good, honesty is the best policy because I already knew the answer. Tell me why, slave.”

“Mistress Mary Lou frightens me. I am more afraid of her deeper cruelty.”

“Are you saying I am not cruel enough, slave?”

“No, Mistress, I’m not saying that; I’m saying in a general sense she comes across more frightening to me—maybe because of the mother factor.”

“Are you afraid of this weekend, slave?”

“Yes, very much so, Mistress.”

“Well you should be, slave. She has some devilishly wicked plans for you. You’ll enter a new level of pain and humiliation this weekend, deeper and more depraved than you puny imagination ever imagined. She, too, is aware of how frightened you are of her—because of the mother factor, as you call it. I have shared all your mother tales with her, and that’s all I’ll tell you.

“Oh, by the way, I spoke to a Mistress Dominique at a local S&M club I found on-line. She’s quite dominating and talkative. I had to agree to a half hour phone call with her asking question after question about you. Next weekend, on Saturday, you and I are going. Dues are minimal, and she said that there are fifty or so Mistresses and Masters with slaves and that usually around twenty or more show for each meeting. The play begins at eight PM, and we have to be there at six-thirty to meet with her before we gain admittance. Just a formality, she said. They have a slave exchange, public whipping and torture exhibitions, and I let her know how much you lust to be a complete toilet slave. She said she’d be glad to fill your mouth/fantasy. She told me to tell you to come hungry and thirsty, he, he! Is your little dickie hard, slave?”

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