Change of Life

"You won't be beaten, don't worry. Take off your clothes. Sit on the edge of the chair, on that tray. Your left hand behind you. Your right arm beside you. Knees apart."

She ran a chain around my waist and secured it to rungs on the back of the chair. Small chains to the legs of the chair kept my knees apart. My left hand was in a cuff, secured behind me to the chain. My right arm was secured beside me, down to the elbow. I'd have the lower arm and hand free to jerk. "You're not to defend your balls with that hand or you'll be very sorry."

"I won't, Mistress."

"That's good," she said, admiring her handiwork. She disappeared and re emerged clad rather like a fitness instructor, form fitting fabric. Running shoes.

"I will pull down my top. I will show my breast, and you'll start to jerk. Remember on no account are you to come. If you're ever tempted to cry out, do not; or you'll be gagged."

She stood back from me about 2 meters and ran her hands over herself; the breasts, the narrow waist, the hips. Her look was expectant. Pulling the top down on one side, she exposed her full, very white breast. She held it in her hand, working on its nipple, which noticeably stood up; she wanted me to see that, and how the breast conformed to her hand. Her face was composed. Hard to read. Perhaps she was thinking,By the book.

I felt the rush of blood, surprising me, and was fully erect. The generic male whose cock related synapses include only the eye and not the rest of the brain. I took my cock in hand and started. I felt a surge of lust at the empress' tit. I imagined licking the rough, prominent nipple.

I looked at her face and saw approval. I couldn't tell what else there was.

"Your Isis has tits?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"They excite you?"

"Yes."

"And you're jerking to mine, obviously."

"Yes. The physical thrill."

"Liar!" She slapped my face. "She sent you for an eyeful—I suppose that's what you're thinking?"

"Yes. She's given me a holiday—and a chance to experiment."

"To strange tits."

"Yes."

"You're the faithful type, aren't you? Jerk!"

I started to wonder. Was Isis angry? Was that behind the assignment? I was ashamed of myself and my erection. With my eyes, I followed the blue veins' course, to the areola, and my hand responded.

"Jerk hard; take in every line and feature of this tit."

I was quite erect, Isis. I'm sure you wanted me to have this chance.

"Look how the nipple stands."

"Yes."

She approached and leaned over. Her breast barely brushed my face. My cock jerked up. Her breast brushed closer, and I slightly pursed my lips and kissed it as it was going by. She stopped while it touched me, and I kissed it. I looked up and saw she was watching, with apparent curiosity.

I saw her right leg lift, slightly. Watching my face, she kicked my balls. The pain shot through my body, I gasped and my stomach felt sick. I dared not stop jerking however, though I was bent forward in near agony. Here was the penalty.

"Ask me for another, slave. You had no permission to kiss my breast."

"Please, kick my balls again, Mistress Tanya."

"Gladly." And she did. "Little worm." This time they hurt far worse and I almost blacked out.

"I'm sorry. It was so tempting, and you let it touch me. You even stopped."

Another sharp kick. "You hadnopermission." A slap across my face.

"I'm sorry; forgive me, Mistress, please."

"You kiss your Isis, don't you? You're getting confused!"

"I guess."

"Open your mouth, fuckwad. Your arrogant mouth." She put on some rubber gloves. She took a bottle from the table-- "Hot Pepper Sauce"--then poured some onto her gloved hand, and applied it to my lips: "Your nasty lips." She continued, "Open wider" and shoved the glove into my mouth, which was suddenly on fire. "How's that, slimeball?"

Her face was cold and hard; my stomach constricted and tears came to my eyes. Lips, tongue, everything was burning. And it seemed deserved. "May I speak?"

"Yes, worm. Be brief."

"Please no more. I'm ashamed of my act. Let me wash out my mouth, please."

"Shut up. We'll see about washing it out." Her look was very hard. "You're a sleazeball—and deluded," she said, "Grab your nuts and squeeze hard."

I did and winced. "Yes, Mistress, I'm sorry."

"Do you think I'm your lover?" She grabbed my balls and easily crushed them in her hand.

"Oh, please!" I squirmed against the restraints, guts turning, and dared not use my hand to interfere.

"You belong to me, for an hour. I don't have any feelings toward you—good ones, that is."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't like a wanker sucking. Get it? Your Isis responds in her own way."

"You don't like it; Isis does."

"Simpleton! The fact is that her terms don't allow you to indulge yourself every hour, so you're here. And it isn't just 'physical thrill.' Perhaps it's kind of 'payback.' Listen. I don't have any terms. There are no terms under which you can kiss any part of my body for my enjoyment. You're a dog I'm boarding, owned by another, slobbering on me."

"I'm listening."

"Jerk off!"

I was way up, at the insult. "You think women like you. Do you know how my breast felt as when you kissed it?"

I was going to say 'pleased' for I knew how breasts respond to kisses. But I shut up, fortunately.

"It cringed."

My stomach fell away.

"I agreed to touch you for a lot of money, so you think I like you. Fool! Look how you're hard. Go to it."

I continued, and rapidly neared a climax.

"Stop. You thought, in the thrill of your kiss, I'd forget my silly rules. So you broke them. We'll fix that."

"It's not necessary; I understand that you don't like me. I will obey."

Her kick was hard. "Do not tell me what's necessary. Get up off your butt and present. I rose partway from the chair. She put more sauce on the glove and went behind me, and I felt her fingers penetrate my butt. "Relax, fuckhead."

I tried to, but my butt was already burning.

"There, that's necessary, worm!"

The burning in my butt brought my cock to full attention. "Yes, Mistress."

She took off the gloves. Looked at my cock. "It's up, worm. You know what that means?"

"I find you hot."

She punched me in the balls. "No! It means your little maso heart finds what I say, perfectly accurate."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Jerk again and get close. Now I'm told you haven't fucked for a long time, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Up the butt gets to you, though, right?"

"Yes, Mistress." The burning in my butt seemed to enrage my cock.

"Since you're just a wanker, I prepared this, from this morning to show my opinion of your habit." She produced a bottle with yellow liquid. "You know what it is?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She poured it out into the tray. I was now sitting in a yellow puddle. "What do you have to say?"

"I'm wet and ashamed. It smells disgusting. I'm like a baby." A baby with an erection, however. The smell. Its shame. My blood was rushing.

"Yes, you are. Your balls are hanging in human waste." She looked at me. "You forgot something." She kicked me again and I doubled over. I remembered. "Thank you for this stuff, and for the reminder."

"And the hard-on."

"Yes, thank you for everything." I was way up. The smell, the indignity.

"From a woman's cunt, it's her urine that is for you, isn't it?"

"Yes." I'd never admitted so much. The smell of my Isis's waste had haunted me, since the toilet incident. The pictures of hoes taking a whizz had been a secret.

"Well, jerk off and enjoy the aroma. Here. And taste." She put her finger in, and dabbed my burning lips. They cooled a little, but I tasted the bitterness and my cock was hard in my hand. She had me. I was melting at the indignity, at the disgusting stuff.

"This thing you said about you and women's waste wasn't entirely accurate."

"Why, Mistress?"

"You're sitting in my boyfriend's whizz and getting off on it."

I felt suddenly revolted, and stopped. I was betrayed.

I received a hard kick. "Problems, worm? You may speak for a minute."

"It's notyourfluid. You fooled me." My hard-on started to fade.

"I didn't lie to you, shit head." She stopped, and smiled in scorn: "I find his water very smelly when he forgets to flush, Do you?"

"Yes, it's smelly." I was fading.

"There you go," she said, "how are you feeling?"

"Distressed, Mistress. Sick."

"That's what you paid for, idiot. Now jerk."

My body felt mostly disgust, but I was still a bit aroused as well. My jerking started to work. "I'm sick." I hadn't the courage to ask for my Isis' waste, and here I was. I'd gotten up thinking it was Mistress Tanya's. I looked to her face, for a sign of compassion. She was coolly watching my cock, my body and its mounting excitement. I was giving way. A bright, but cold smile suddenly appeared.

"Want to see my pussy, slave? You have your Isis's permission. You like your porn pics of slash, I've heard, so you'll get the view, live."

"Yes, please." I felt a shiver of excitement, despite everything. My Isis understood my physiology and my needs. And she was fine with my coming.

"Strange pussy, yes? Does it every time."

"Yes. Thank you."

"I'll uncover it a bit, wanker." Her mound was prominent. The light brown hair was clipped short. Outer lips a bit puffy, inner lips visible, tightly in contact. "You're afraid to go into a cunt, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"You don't come in your Isis' any more, do you?"

"No, Mistress."

"So your seed goes onto the floor, I suppose."

"Yes, or whatever."

"She has a sense of what's appropriate, doesn't she?"

"Yes." I struck me why Isis wanted my seed only on the floor or in the toilet.

"Now it will go whereIsay"

"Yes, Mistress."

"What's your problem with my cunt, slave? Why not come in, if I was a whore and you were invited? You may be blunt."

"Its hole. I'm afraid of it." I hadn't said this to Isis. I remembered my problems coming.

"Where the cocks go, right?" I could see her delight at adding this detail.

"Yes."

She looked contemptuous. I remembered my Isis had said that I didn't know how women felt about such avoidance. I was very ashamed. I looked to Mistress Tanya's face, hoping.

"Want to know how I'd describe you? ...A client with exotic tastes, perhaps? Well, you're nothing. Zero as a man."

"I see." Nothing special.

"The only use of a zero is, for a short time, to be abused—as others would call it."

"I see."

"My hole gets a man excited, and his cock goes in, and he comes quick."

"Yes."

"The same applies to your Isis."

"Yes, now that you say it."

"Yes. And where does your cum go?"

"In my own hand."

"That's not quite accurate. Your Isis suggested I inquire further. Where?"

"It went into a melon." My stomach fell away. I was totally exposed, yet her coldness was still affecting me.

"And your cock loved that, I bet. You probably want me to say what an adventurous perv you are."

"I am a pervert." She kicked me hard.

"Look at my cunt, slave. What would happen to your cock inside it, or any other cunt?" She stood there, defiantly.

I pictured that a hard cock would part those lips, and enter, hard. Then I thought of myself. "It would subside; wilt."

"Impotent!"

"Yes, impotent with a woman."

"That's what counts, idiot. Takes a melon to keep it up, eh?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Yet here you are jerking to a glimpse of it."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you want a closer look? Beg!"

"Yes, please. Please, Mistress, I want to look."

"This will cost you." Up close, the slit in her mound was evident. The inner lips guarded the sanctuary. "You have Isis's permission, but how about this?" she said, drawing a couple fingers through her crack; smearing them, under my nose. My cock twitched at the pungent smell. Her fingers went into the dampness, again, and she stroked them, juicy, across my cheeks, marking me. "See what you Isis does when she smells strange cunt on your face, and figures you were eating it for your holiday. She'll know you gave yourself to me."

My stomach fell. I shivered. I didn't think I could explain. I looked back at her cunt and its crack, which did not yield to me. My cock had risen, and my anger with, and it showed.

"I think perhaps you're a bit angry at me and my cunt." She took more juices and smeared them on me.

"Thank you." I didn't want a kick.

"Speak, slave. You won't be punished for candor, but I may react."

"You are unfair to me. You use your cunt against me."

"Yes, I do. Talk."

"I'm angry; your cunt controls me." Looking at its folds, I was swept up in resentment. "It's just folds around a fuckhole, but it has me here at your mercy."

"You are unworthy of my cunt. Look at what you call, 'just folds,' and jerk." She gave me another sharp kick and I was sick to my stomach.

"Doing it, Mistress." I thought of the entrance behind the folds. Where I was barred from.

Watching my face, she showed me the hole, pink and slick. The tunnel into her belly. Anger, then loss; then incredible hardness. "Good! The worm has some normal reactions. My fuckhole—as you call it so tenderly-- is for fucking. But that nice hole you see is for real cocks."

"Yes, I know."

Her legs were apart and she tipped her hips up. I could see her fingers at the entrance of her hole. I hated it, and jerked like mad.

"At bit like a hate fuck, isn't it?"

"I see, yes." My hate made me more aroused; I was ashamed of it. It was not the first time I'd admitted feeling it. I jerked and hated her with every bone.

"Your description of my cunt left something out, slave. Tip your head back, and I'll show you. Open!"

I did. In the low chair, my eyes were even with her lower belly. Approaching, she tilted her hips forwards, opened her pussy slightly, and took aim. In the pink slit, I could see the little hole. An old fantasy was suddenly real. "You'll like my cunt's waste-- here!" A blast of fluid hit my face, ran down my neck, and then was aimed into my mouth, which was soon full of the bitter liquid. My body shivered and tingled, and my cock jumped. After the fuss over the kiss of her breast, I did not dare swallow, without direction.

"See, my cunt has alittlehole that just loves you. If you want to swallow, nod twice. Jerk."

My mouth was full. I nodded as directed.

"Yes, take my cunt's waste into your belly. Jerk to it."

I did. I felt warmth, there. Ashamed. Her toilet.

"I told her I'd make you my toilet, and she was fine with it (do you wonder why?), but you're going to have to explain your relish for doing so." She did insist that I have you ask, and you did!

I burned in shame, feeling her hot waste in my belly. My cock was way up, again. I had wanted to ask my Isis to do this. Now the desire was out there, with a ho. I felt I'd betrayed my Isis.I'll be coming back with a bellyful of a ho's waste!"I feel sick."

"Look at your cock, jerk!"

My cock was quite aroused, and my hand flew up and down; my body turned electric.

"Your Isis's fluid is as hot as this?" Miss T hadn't realized the secret from my Mistress.

"I haven't had hers, but I think you're right."

"Better ask her, fool."

"My cunt's urine is for you."

"Yes, mistress."

"You belong to my cunt. It'sthisfluid you need, yes?" Say it."

"I need your cunt's waste."

"How are you feeling, slave?"

"Degraded; like I've betrayed my Isis. Ashamed. Hot."

"A whore doesn'tbetray. As a whore is, she does according to her nature. Jerk off, pussy! The shame is fitting."

"Yes. Mistress." I was feeling awful. My cock was way up.

"You're thinking of what you are, aren't you. A waste container, and an avid one. You feel it."

"Yes, Mistress." Her waste was a huge turn on. Live, more than in the secret pictures I enjoyed. I'd betrayed my Isis. Yes, I had permission to get 'up'; it was expected I'd harden to the cold bitch, perhaps kneeling before her pussy, but.....I looked at her face for any sign of relenting. There wasn't any.

Her voice was gentle. "There's no hope, slave. You're a whore, and you're served up to me on a platter. My boyfriend couldn't believe a person would get off, when he gave me the bottle. Your Isis wanted a little surprise for you, so I asked Julio to come have a look at the perv."

"Julio," she called up the stairs. "Come down for a sec."

A very fit male in a clean pressed pair of trousers appeared at the top of the stairs, and came down. "Here he is," she said.

He looked at me as if he'd enjoy kicking me, himself. "Been staring at T's pussy, I guess?"

"Yes, sir." My shame took on a different, dirtier quality, in front of a man.

"Not that you'd ever have a chance, wanker, but you'd fuck it, if she'd let you?"

I hesitated. It would be an insult. "No, sir."

He came towards me, as if to deliver a slap. "Don't, Julio," she said, "A wanker's a wanker. I'm teaching him his place." She embraced him. I imagined her saying to me, "This is what adults do."

He stood back from her: "Tanya, God, you look so beautiful!" He opened his arms and she pressed against him, melted to him. I saw her look my way.

"To get the taste of you out of my mouth, I need some time with a man. I said I'd surprise you, not entertain you."

"I understand."

"We'll go up and have a quick fuck, Julio," she said, running her hands across his chest.

"Yes, Baby."

"Don't go anywhere," she said to me, smiling, and they disappeared up the stairs.

In about 45 minutes, she returned, looking very satisfied, hair mussed, uniform put on hastily. She had something in her hand.

"You're still here. Hmm. We fucked twice, and Julio wanted you to have a souvenir, from the first one, once you get up again. Jerk, slave."

I was up in a hurry and guessed what it was.

She held up the condom. I could see the white spunk at its tip; it seemed very full. "Ask", she said, reading my mind. "Say what it is."

"It's a condom with your boyfriend's cum."

"It's slime a fag would get off on. Jerk, slave. And ask!"

I was hardening. "Please..." The words stuck in my throat.

"Jerk and look, slave."

I did look, and the whole scene was crashing down on me. What I was doing. I pictured my Isis watching me ask and seeing my cock way up. Would she wonder if I was a fag? And if I was hers? My reactions seemed to damn me. Tears were in my eyes.

She upped the ante and brought her pussy right before my eyes. "Look at this pussy, too, and jerk.'' Pulling aside her suit, she exposed her pussy, which looked very wet. And juicy. I took in the smell of their fuck. I got harder and jerked crazily.

"The fuckhole's been used, slave. Jerk." Her cuntlips were pulled apart so I could see the pink interior, flecked with his juices.

My cock was up and I was melting away inside. Most of my self was vanishing. Did I have enough pride left, not to beg? Did I still belong to Isis? I was jerking to the used fuckhole of a whore. I neared my climax. I wanted the cum so bad. "I'm close."

"Ask for his cum; then after you swallow, you can spurt to it. Open up. You want it!"

"Mistress, I don't." I was tryingnotto ask. I was sickened by my complicity, but utterly aroused.

"Open," she said. I could not help myself. She poured it in. Into the black hole. I'd become only sucking nothingness. I felt the slime in my mouth. I was nauseated by the man's scum. Still, I swallowed. My stomach almost heaved. I saw manslime coating its walls.

She grabbed my balls hard—probably to bring me painfully to the edge. But I started to come. A terrifying bolt of lightning struck me as I spewed over my hand, several fat strands of cum. I blacked for a few seconds, then came to. Her eyes were exultant. "You spewed. You lost it!"

"Yes."

"Open for the rest. Your belly is Julio's, slave."