Becoming a Sub Ch. 02

"You know that was the first time I saw you naked."

This was Peter, my favorite sub. He was referring to our last session, when I'd brought in another mistress to domme the two of us. It had gone very well (you can read about it in "Becoming a Sub"), and I had agreed to let Peter dom me for half this session.

"We can session in the nude. I'd like that actually," I said.

I took off my corset and stepped out of my panties. Peter, already nude, walked over to me and picked me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and swung my legs around his waist.

I didn't do this with any of my other subs. Peter and I were growing closer, and we were having fun. I'd even started giving him guitar lessons in exchange for him teaching my about computer audio. There was nothing romantic going on here — I was still fucking girls. But I looked forward to playing with Peter, and especially to today.

After I was done beating Peter, it was my turn to suffer. He put me into suspension bondage, and started beating me slowly with an elk skin flogger. Once I was warmed up, he grabbed some things from his bag and walked in front of me.

"I need to warm you up some more," he said.

He licked something — some film — and put it on nipples. My nipples felt warm, then hot, then really hot. I smelled cinnamon candy.

"Breath mints," he said. "Listerine Cool Heat Breath Strips."

He popped one in his mouth.

"They burn, don't they?" he asked.

Hell, yes, they did. I pulled against my restraints, trying to get some relief.

"Would you like me to get them off," he asked.

"Yes, yes. Please!" I begged.

He put his mouth on my breasts and sucked the strips off, tonguing my nipples in the process. That actually felt nice. The heat fell down to a bearable level.

"I think I need to cool them off some more," he said.

He put two ice cubes on my nipples and I jumped back. It was only ice, but my nipples were so sensitive, it really hurt.

"I can take them off," he said "but I'll need to put them on your clit."

"Yes, yes, anything."

I wasn't thinking. The ice hit my clit and I jumped. My feet, however, had been chained to the floor so I didn't get far. I stood on my toes to get away from Peter, but he kept the ice on my clit until it melted.

Jesus. I was exhausted. The episode took maybe ninety seconds, but I felt like I'd been put through the wringer.

"Does your pussy need to warm up?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Please warm my pussy."

He put a finger inside me for first time. There's something very intimate about that, feeling someone else inside you. He added another finger and stroked me gently. My pussy was warming up.

"Do not cum without permission," he said.

He stroked me harder, and I felt a certain feeling welling up inside me.


"Permission to cum, master."

I didn't think about it — I just felt I should call him "master."

"Permission to cum, master. Please?"

I was begging. He'd found my G-spot and I wouldn't last long. 


"Please. Master. I can't hold on."

He pulled his fingers out. My orgasm had been frustrated. This was not nice.

"Do you want to cum?" he asked.

"Yes. Badly."

"Can I kiss you?"

"No tongue," I said. "Against the rules."

"Then no orgasm for you."

He went over to his bag and pulled out a Hitachi Magic Wand. He plugged it in and turned it on. He held the vibrating head in his hand and approached me.

"This feels nice," he said.

He put the back of his hand against my pussy. The vibrations were weaker, but I felt them.

"I could put the head right on your clit," he said.

"Yes, please, master. I'd like that a lot."

"Then kiss me."

"I don't want to lose my job."

"What do you want — your job or to cum?"

"Both, sir?"

He pulled his hand away, and the vibrations stopped.

He had me.

"Master, please kiss me."

I just hoped no one would walk in on us.

He stepped to me and I opened my mouth, preparing to receive him. We kissed, and his tongue slipped over mine. I felt the vibrator on my clit. I kissed Peter, thanking him for the pleasure he was giving me.

"Permission to cum, sir?"

"Granted," he said. "You may cum."

And I did, kissing him and looking straight into his eyes. It was the first time I'd cum with a sub, but it wouldn't be the last. And most of them were with Peter.

He unchained me and got me out the suspension gear.

"That was cruel, the orgasm denial," I said.

"It is, but it's kind of like foreplay," he said. "When the orgasm finally hits, it's worth it."

That was true. But it was time to move on to the ass-fucking. I stepped into a harness and fixed the dildo — a vibrating Mistress. I hit the switch on the bullet vibe and adjusted the straps. The vibrations made my pussy feel good.

"I like the way you look with a cock," he said.


I reached down, grabbed it and placed it next to his cock. His was a little bigger, but mine vibrated. He put his hand on mine and we held our cocks together. He pushed my cock back into me, stroking it, grinding the base against my clit.

Now I felt the vibrations.

I slid my hand on his cock, matching him stroke for stroke. He leaned into me and kissed me. He was getting turned on now, as turned on as I was. He put an arm around me to steady me, and I did the same. We were in a kinky embrace, stroking each other's cocks. The closer I got to cumming, the harder I stroked Peter's cock. I felt his pre-cum oozing out, and used it for lube.

I looked up and kissed him. I heard him moan, and felt warm liquid spill on my thigh. That pushed me over the edge, and I came, too.

I looked down at Peter's cum on my leg and got an idea.

"Down on your knees," I ordered. "I want to give you a facial."

He kneeled and crossed his arms behind back. Nice touch. He opened his mouth, and I flicked the cum on to his face. I got his nose, one cheek and some in his mouth. I rubbed the last of his cum onto my cock.

"Stand up. Don't swallow."

I opened the door and led Peter back to the waiting area. Dahlia, the phone girl, was there, along with two new dommes.

"This is Peter, and he just came on my leg. So I used his own cum to give him a facial. Peter — open your mouth."

He obeyed, as I knew he would.

"That's his cum on his tongue. Now Peter, wipe the rest of your cum off your face and eat it!"

He wiped the cum into his mouth and swallowed. I grabbed him by his hair and threw him to the ground.

"Now clean my cock!"

He put his hands on my hips and impaled his mouth on my cock. I heard him struggle and gag, and then my cock went all the way in.

He was deep-throating me! I'd never seen that before.

He looked up and I saw his eyes had filled with water. That turned me on again. I grabbed his head so I could thrust my cock in and out of his mouth. He made some gurgling sounds, and I pushed him off my cock. He fell onto his back, stringers hanging from his mouth.

"Wow," said one of the new girls, "he could suck my cock anytime."

All in all, a good session. Peter was a good dom, and a wonderful sub.

Peter went on vacation to St. Barths, so I didn't see him for a couple of weeks. We emailed, though, and I asked him if he was thinking about me when he masturbated. He said he had, so I ordered him to send some photos of him jerking off. I told him I'd do the same.

That got me started on a discussion of the history of vibrators. I had been a gender studies major at college, and had learned that vibrators had been designed to help doctors as medical instruments. If a women wasn't feeling right — read: depressed or anxious— she would be diagnosed as suffering from female hysteria. The treatment was pelvic massage, or finger-fucking. Vibrators, basically, were to help doctors with tired hands.

Whatever the case, I told Peter that I had a fantasy about being a patient and being brought to orgasm by a doctor.

Peter said he would be my doctor. Which is what I wanted him to say. He said he would take care of everything, but asked me to bring my favorite dildo from home.

When the day came for my "appointment," I was in the hallway outside one of the rooms at the my dungeon, the Hidden Chamber. I knocked and poked my head inside.

"Doctor?" I asked. "I'm Kathi."

Peter had dressed the part. He wore a doctor's white coat over a shirt and tie, and a stethoscope hung around his neck. In his shirt pocket were tongue depressors, a thermometer and a penlight.

"Please come in and have a seat."

He led me by the hand over to the bed.

"Tell me how you feel," he said.

"OK, basically," I said. "But I don't feel like myself. I feel like I'm anxious, on edge. Plus I have no energy. I have to drag myself out of bed in the morning."

"No aches, no pain?" he asked.

"None," I said. "I just don't feel right."

He put his hand on my forehead.

"You don't feel hot."

Then he took my pulse.

"Pulse is strong and regular. I'd like to check your ears. Please turn your head to the side."

He flicked on the penlight and took a peek.


"Other side, please," he said. "Your ears look good."

The penlight went back in his pocket.

"I'ld like to listen to your heart now. Please take off your shirt."

My pulse quickened. I didn't wear a bra for just this reason — so he could order me to strip in front of him.

"Doctor, I'm sorry," I said "but I'm not wearing a bra."

"That's OK, Kathi," he said. "I'm a medical doctor. It's perfectly appropriate for you to take your shirt off if I ask you, too. Please don't feel embarrassed."

"If you say so, doctor," I said. "I trust you."

I tried to look shy, but I'm not sure it worked.

I grabbed my shirt and pulled it over my head. Then I covered my breasts with my arms.

"Now, now, Kathi," he said, putting the stethoscope in his ears. "Be a brave girl. Sit up straight and put your arms down."

I did as he asked, pushing my chest forward. I don't have big tits, but I wanted to put my B-cups on display for him. I turned my head to the side — I was acting bashful.

I felt the cold metal chestpiece on my breast, and shivered.

"I'm sorry, Kathi. I should have warmed that up for you."

Bastard. He did that intentionally.

"Good news —your heart sounds fine," he said. "Now, if you'd take off the rest of you clothes for me. I'll turn around to give you some privacy."

Rats. I'd hoped he order me to strip in front of him. But I obeyed, shimmying out of my jeans.

"Ready?" he asked.

One arm covered my breasts. With my other arm, I covered my pussy. I drew my shoulders in and looked down and to the side.

"Yes, doctor."

He turned around.

"Kathi — what did I tell you?"

He came over and put his hands on my shoulders.

"You have no reason to be embarrassed. You're a beautiful young women, and you have a beautiful body. You should be proud!"

I shook my head 'no.'

"I want you to do something for me. I want you to be a brave girl for me. The bravest! I want you to look at me, and stand up straight and tall. I want you to push your chest forward. And I want you to put your hands by your side."

I faked a sniffle, and obeyed.

"That's much better, Kathi. Good girl."

I liked the praise.

"You're a lovely girl," he said, touching my chin. "You're going to make someone very happy someday."

I appreciated that. He knew I was a lesbian, and intentionally did not say "make some man very happy." If you want to know why I liked Peter to such, there's your reason. It was a small thing, but so ... thoughtful.

That might not be be erotic to you, but it's sexually as hell to me. It's what allowed us to do what we did.

"Please cross your arms behind your back and open your mouth. I need to see down your throat."

He took a tongue depressor out of his pocket and unwrapped it.

"Put your tongue to the left. Now the right. Now stick out your tongue. And put it back in your mouth and let it relax."

I felt the depressor poking at the back of my tongue. Peter knew I had a sensitive gag reflex — hey, I'm a dyke! — and he was testing it. It went further back, and further back ....

I gagged. I convulsed, and the tongue depressor went flying. I had my hands on my knees. My eyes were watering.

"Kathi, I need to test your throat. I'm sorry you gagged, but I'm going to need to ask you to stand up and cross your arms behind your back. Can you do that for me?"

He'd made me cry. It was my fantasy, but he was using it against me. He knew I'd gag myself again just to continue on.

I opened my mouth and the depressor went in. It moved back slowly, but I knew what was coming. I tried to open my throat, to let him go further, but ....

I gagged again. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Spit hung from my lips.

"I'm so sorry," he said, reaching for a tissue.

He wiped the saliva from my face.

"Let's see if we can do this another way."

He put on latex gloves.

"I want you to stand as you were before, and I'm going to put my left arm around you to steady you. Then I'm going to use two fingers on my right hand to test your throat, instead of the depressor. Is that alright?"

I nodded.

"I want you to try to open your throat, like you're swallowing. When you gag, try to move your mouth up on my fingers. It won't feel natural, but just keep your arms behind you. We'll do this together."

I looked up at Peter.

"If you say so, doctor," I said. "I trust you."


"That's a good girl. Now open your mouth."

I felt his arm go around me and pin my arms behind my back. I opened my mouth, and his fingers went in. He went slowly at first, until my first gag. My body convulsed, but he held me tight and kept his fingers in my mouth. In fact, he pushed further, trying to open my throat. I gagged again, and my knees went out from under me. But he was holding me and I did not fall.

I felt his fingers push my tongue down and enter my throat. I thought I was going to throw up. But I swallowed and moved my mouth up, just like he asked. I felt my throat open, and he was in. I was deep-throating his fingers.

I'd never deep-throated anything before. I was still gagging a bit, but I felt a sense of accomplishment. He withdrew his fingers and wiped them clean with a tissue. Then he cleaned the saliva from my face.


"That was very good," he said. "You have no obstructions in your throat. Now let's take your temperature."

I opened my mouth.

"That's not where it's going," he said. "Please get on the examining table and lie on your stomach. I'll need you to spread your cheeks for me."

I felt him apply lube around my asshole. Then he stuck a finger in me. I grunted. I'm not a huge fan of anal, and I don't have a lot of experience. But Peter loved all things anal, and it looked like the price for living my fantasy was to let him finger-fuck my asshole.

"I'm trying to relax your anus," he said. "This will ensure a more accurate reading."

He slipped another finger in me. It hurt some, but I was willing to take it. He pulled his fingers out and applied more lube.

"I'm going to try three fingers this time," he said. "I want you to push back on me, as if you were defecating. This will stretch the sphincter muscles. And breathe."

I exhaled and pushed my asshole back onto his finger tips.

"That's it. Now do it again."

I took a breath and pushed out. The fingers moved into me slowly. It hurt, but there was something about it I liked. Peter moved his fingers back and forth. He pushed them deep into me, and I felt my butt hit his hand. His fingers were completely inside me now. My anus had relaxed. It no longer hurt.

I moaned.

He moved his fingers up and down inside me, exploring me. I wanted to touch myself, play with my clit. But I couldn't do that in a doctor's office.

The fingers left my ass.

"Your rectum is clean — no obstructions," he said. "Now I'll take your temperature."

I felt the cold metal and glass of the thermometer enter my ass. It slid in easily.

Peter stood up and walked to my side.

"You're flushed," he said. "That's a perfectly normal reaction to anal stimulation. You should experiment with it at home. Will you do that for me?"

This felt dirty, talking about it.

"Yes, doctor. I'll experiment with putting things in my anus."

He pulled the thermometer out of my ass.

"No fever. That's good. Please roll over onto your back, pull your feet into your buttocks and spread your knees."

He held a plastic speculum in his hand.

"I'm going to use this to look into your vagina. Please relax."

I felt the device slide into me. He opened the speculum, and I felt air hit my pussy. It felt good to know he was looking inside me, seeing everything. I liked that I was on display for him, and could hide nothing.

He closed the speculum and pulled it out of me. I was very turned on now. I awaited my diagnosis.

"Kathi, you suffer from female hysteria. The good news is that it's treatable, right here in my office. The treatment involves stimulating your clitoris and your vagina. You will feel a great energy well up inside of you, and then it will dissipate. You'll feel better then. I promise."

He fixed some leather cuffs to my wrists and ankles and and tied them to the bedposts.

"Unfortunately, some women experience a violent reaction and thrash around. So for your own protection, I'm going to restrain your arms and legs."

I was spread-eagled now, and could not move.

Peter took up his position between my legs. He applied some lube to his fingers, but he didn't need to. I was wet. I was excited.

He put two fingers in me. I moaned. I wanted this.

He started slowly, but he turned the speed up quickly. Soon he had three fingers sliding in and out of me. I lifted my head up — it was the only part of my body I could move! He slammed his fingers into me. I moaned loudly, and came.

"How do you feel now, Kathi?"

"Better, doctor."

"I'd like to do another round of treatment. To be safe."

"Yes, doctor. To be safe."

"Please try to relax."

Fat chance. My pussy was hungry for more.

He had my favorite dildo now. It was about the size of Peter's cock, but a little thicker. And it had these hard plastic veins that felt great.

Peter teased my pussy lips, then slammed it in. There was nothing gentle about this. He just pounded my pussy with the dildo. I felt full. My head snapped from side to side, and I pulled against my restraints. I let owe a big groan and came again — hard!

I looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath.

"One final treatment," he said.

I couldn't even speak.

I felt three fingers in me now, then a fourth. This was bigger than my dildo, and stretched my pussy. I felt another finger —- his thumb. He was trying to fist me.

I looked up to see him pouring lube over his hand.


"Please relax."

I'd been fisted by women before, but never by a man. This was going to be the biggest thing I'd ever had in my pussy — if he could get it in. I felt him corkscrew his hand, working his fist into me. I had all four fingers and the thumb, but I didn't have the knuckles. I breathed in and out, trying to relax my pussy. I felt like my pussy was at its breaking point, but I wanted more. I arched my back and felt the knuckles begin to slide in.

I was doing it. My pussy was eating his fist. Then the fist stopped moving.

I looked up to see Peter holding the Hitachi in his other hand. He turned it on low and put it against his wrist and my clit. The vibrations shot through his hand and into my pussy. It was overwhelming. My whole pelvis was shaking. I heard myself groan — but it sounded like someone else's voice. My hips started bucking. I was cumming already.

One orgasm blurred into another. I was losing control. I arched my back so much I that my head rolled under me. My legs stiffened, and only my heels and the top of my head were on the bed. The restraints were pulled tight, and I felt my joints straining. Drool was coming out of my mouth, and was rolling down my face.