Ninety Days

I am in a daze and I can only assume she is too. I hold very still, somehow fighting off the urge to thrust and buck while wishing she would wrap her hand tightly around my cock again. Her fist in my ass, kept motionless for the past few minutes while she basks in her second orgasm of the evening, slowly inches its way out. It's a bitter sweet release of tension, an odd combination of released pressure and empty longing.

I hear her move into the bathroom, remove the latex glove and turn on the faucet. She seems to be taking her time which gives me a moment to collect myself as well. Upon her return, she runs a warm washcloth down my ass, wiping away any mess and excess lube and then comes and sits next to me on the bed.

She speaks with her mouth pressed against my leather hood, "I'm going to untie you now and give you a few minutes to relax, but I'm going to leave the hood on you. After you've collected yourself, we're going to have a rather one sided conversation, do you understand?" I nod my head that I do.

She works quickly and efficiently undoing the bondage, starting with my ankles, then the spreader bar and finally my wrists. She keeps the cuffs on me, presumably because there is more to come. "Lie down on your back and relax," she says barely above a whisper and I obey without needing any prodding. The release from bondage is a welcome respite and my body, exhausted but still tense with frustration, eases down on to the bed. I feel her stretch out next to me, her warm, soft skin nuzzling against me. Her hand caresses the leather of my hood at my cheek and moves down, across my collar where she stops to finger the ring, and then continues to my chest. She is sweet and gentle and her hand gliding across my flesh is soothing. She simply traces little circles, from my shoulders, across my chest and over my nipples, down to my stomach and then to the soft space between my bellybutton and cock. Each time her hand comes to my pubis I shutter, hoping she'll reach farther down and stroke my cock desperate for attention.

As she continues, the arousal becomes too much and I begin bucking, thrusting up encouraging her to touch me. She thankfully understands my desire and takes my cock in her hand, but cautions, "I'll touch you while I talk to you but you will not cum unless I tell you to, is that understood?" I nod my head in compliance. "Good," she says, adding, "and you will not attempt to fuck my hand, either. You will hold very still and listen to what I have to say. You may respond by either nodding your head in agreement or shaking your head in disagreement. If you move any other part of your body, you will be punished. Is this understood?" I let out a slight whine hoping she understands how difficult this is for me and then I nod my head.

She holds my cock lightly, stroking it at a slow, gingerly pace, needing no lube as it glistens with pre-cum. She begins speaking while keeping her hand gliding up and down my shaft. "I rather like this hood on you. It keeps you quiet and leaves just your body exposed as an object for my enjoyment." I stay completely still, listening intently while focusing on restraint. She continues, her hand never leaving my twitching, swollen, tingling cock, "I have also liked keeping you locked in chastity for the past three months. It does you good and I know you need it." I nod my head while moaning almost inaudibly. She laughs. "You do realize cocks are pretty useless to a woman like me? Sure, they're fun to play with occasionally or torture or abuse, but that is really about it and even then it's about the reaction, not the actual body part." She continues stroking me as I'm inching ever closer to the point of no return.

Uncontrollably, my hand moves from my side toward my crotch. Immediately she stops touching me and although I try to move my hand back to its place on the bed, it's too late and she's seen my movement. "Well, well," she says, "look who can't follow instructions," and with that she rises from the bed, returning a moment later. "Bring your hands to your neck," she instructs and quickly fastens the wrist cuffs to the ring on my collar, forcing my arms into a bent, uncomfortable position. She then moves down to the foot of the bed, spread my legs apart and fastens my ankles to opposite bed posts. "That should keep you from moving," she adds with satisfaction.

I hear her moving toward the closet again and removing something from a shelf and something from a hang. She places the items on the bed and then takes my balls in her hands. "You must also realize by now that I find testicles rather useless, too. I've always thought that if I kept a male slave I'd have him castrated," she adds with a laugh that elicits a pleading moan from me. I feel what I know to be the ball stretching parachute being wrapped around my scrotum and snapped snuggly into place. The chain on the parachute is pulled tightly, stretching my scrotum to the point of pain before she uses rope to fasten it to the bed frame. I want to inch downward to relieve the pressure but dare not budge.

My cock stands at rigid attention and she takes it between two fingers while attaching a clothespin on the underside at the base. The pain is immediate and intense, eliciting a high pitched moan from deep within me. She adds a second clothespin and then four more, creating a line up the length of my cock. I tremble in pain, nearly in tears when at last she adds three more in a half circle across the head of my cock. I shake and whimper, mumbling through my gag that I can't take anymore. If she hears me or understands me, she doesn't respond.

The first slap upon my inner thigh comes as a complete surprise and my sudden jerking motion causes the parachute to pull tighter. She follows with nine more measured hits, all to the right thigh. I hear her move to the other side of the bed and as expected she begins on my left thigh, this time not stopping at ten but continuing to twenty. She returns again to the left, slapping my inner thigh especially hard ten more times.

With what feels like a crop, she begins slowly and lightly tapping my cock, sending bolts of pain through my body and causing me to cry and moan in my darkened world. The crop next finds my inner thigh, fifteen ferocious stripes on each side, covering her hand prints with lines. The crop hits the bed and then her fingers find my right nipple. She pinches it tightly and then adds a clothespin to it, repeating this with my left nipple.

Once again she caresses my leather clad cheek as she attempts to comfort me through the intense suffering she is clearly taking pleasure inflicting. Next she unsnaps the leather mouthpiece of the hood to expose the ring on the hardness gag. She unsnaps the strap that holds the ring in place and I know she is inserting a dildo, preparing to use me as her fuck toy. Once the dildo is secured and she climbs on top of me, she wedges her legs beneath my arms for leverage and lowers herself on to the dildo.

It takes her a moment to get comfortable and find her rhythm, but once she does she begins moving fluidly up and down on the cock held firmly in my mouth by the harness gag. I struggle at first to meet her movements but then we begin rocking together in a single, synchronized motion with me pushing my face forward to meet her downward motion. We continue in this rhythm for a while, she never seeming to tire. As her pace quickens, so does mine, and she begins removing the clothespins, starting with my nipples. I scream loudly through the gag as each comes off and my suffering only seems to increase the intensity with which she fucks my face. As she removes the clothespins from the abused head of my engorged cock, my entire body screams and writhes as if trying to escape the pain. She fucks my face harder and I can tell by the increasing level and frequency of her moans that she is about to cum again. Giving me no warning and no rest from the pounding on my face, she removes the six clothespins from my shaft in swift order, tossing them aside and the places her hands against my chest for added leverage. I scream with pain through the hood and gag as she violently cums, twisting and pumping and squeezing my head between her legs as she rides the dildo to completion. She trembles above me and I below her, both catching our breath before she climbs off me.

Once she has regained her composure she begins releasing me from bondage, starting with my balls, then my hands and feet. She detaches the dildo from the harness, unlocks the lock on my hood and then unlaces the leather ties before pulling the hood off me. She removes the gag causing drool to seep down my chin and finally reaches for the blindfold, removing it and restoring my vision. And then she collapses on the bed, her breathing steady and tired.

I remain in the position she has left me in while my eyesight returns and my own breathing finds its steadiness. Without looking up at me she simply purrs, "You may relax, get a glass of wine, use the restroom, whatever, and then return here to me." I thank her and rise from the bed. My knees are weak and my steps unsteady as I go for a sip of wine and use the restroom. The tingling in my cock, which had subsided during the clothespin play, begins anew and although I desperately want to touch myself and suspect she won't know, I can't bring myself to disobey her. I run the faucet and splash cold water over my face, attempting to rinse away the black stains upon my skin caused from the last two hours in the leather hood. Neither they nor the creases in my skin from the gag can be washed away without more effort than my exhausted body can muster at the moment and so I return to the bedroom and lay down beside her.

She props herself up on one elbow and smiles at me; that same smile I had seen in the restaurant three months ago and the one I truly want to see as often as I can. She reaches out and takes my semi-erect cock in her hand and plays with it softly, causing it to grow to fullness. Pre-cum leaks out onto her fingers and she brings them to my mouth for cleaning before returning her hand to my erection. "So," she begins, "our three months is up and I suspect you want your reward, don't you?" I smile at her and manage only, "yes, Ma'am, if that would please you." She smiles back, repeating rhetorically, "If that would please me." She releases my cock and instructs me to kneel in front of her and touch myself, reminding me not to orgasm without permission.

I carefully take my cock in my hand, knowing that if I stroke myself too hard or too fast I will soon orgasm as the pressure built up inside me is already more than I can handle. She watches me intently, a smirk on her face that almost seems mocking. She reaches out with her index finger and takes a dollop of pre-cum from the red tip of my swollen dick and brings it to my lips. I suck her finger in, tasting the sweetness of my lubricant.

"You love pre-cum, don't you marc?" she asks. I blushed slightly, "Yes, Ma'am, I do." She smiles. "I bet you wish it was real cum though, don't you?" she questions half-joking and half-serious. I only nod in bashful agreement. She quickly follows, "Your own cum or someone else's?" I stop stroking myself because I'm now too close to exploding. I swallow before responding, "Either Ma'am, although I'd prefer someone else's cum." She laughs, adding, "Would you now? Is that what you want marc, a nice hard cock to suck on?" I release my grip on my cock again. She's taking me to my favorite places and I know much more of this will result in an orgasm yet to be granted. I stammer out, "Oh, Ma'am, yes Ma'am, I want a cock to suck on so badly and I want to swallow buckets of cum." She laughs again and smiles, "Then perhaps we should arrange that as part of our next three months together." I nearly scream with joy, knowing she wants to keep me for three more months and hopefully beyond. I resume stroking my cock, slowly and purposefully, desperately close to cumming but wanting the sensation more now than ever.

Her expression turns more serious although her sweetness remains. "You want to fuck me, don't you?" she asks looking directly at me. My eyes widen and my heart races but before I can respond she speaks again. "You are never going to get to fuck me. Never, is that understood? I have no need for your cock. In fact, I think it should remain caged from here on out with perhaps occasional breaks when you've performed well, don't you agree?"

I nearly cum but somehow manage to stave it off even though my hand never leaves my cock. "Oh Mistress, yes! Yes, please lock me back up again and please keep me that way. I only want to please you," I plead through troubled breathes. "Please keep my orgasms and only let me cum when you desire and I promise to be good. Just please, please keep me," I beg almost hysterically. And although I desperately need to cum and the frustration has grown to impossible proportions, she has manipulated me perfectly and I would have agreed to anything she desired to be kept by her.

"Very well then, marc. You may have your reward. Stop touching yourself and for the next two weeks, until we find a suitable cock for you to suck, you will remain locked in the punishment cage – for my pleasure – and perhaps after that, if you prove to be a good cock sucker, I'll let you orgasm." Thankful but deflated, wondering if I had made a good bargain and feeling certain that I hadn't, I released my cock and moved off the bed to follow her instructions, curious how I was going to make it through the next two weeks but knowing that somehow I would.