Couples Counseling Pt. 04

Sweet, Kinky Reader,

Be assured, all participants are pre-certified STD-free, and birth control is in effect; under less 'familiar' circumstances, condoms are always advised. Why, these particular sexual deviants even got flu shots and Covid boosters, LOL

In real life, BDSM is *safe, sane & consensual.* In this *fantasy,* the apparently 'non-consensual' elements (including and especially, the emotional cruelty) were given my diligent, advance 'advise & consent,' and agreed to in writing by all parties. See Pt. 01.

By express, mutual consent, there are no safe-words, traffic lights, or expectations of lenience or mercy; the only law of this (dungeon-sized) land are the Professional judgment, discretion and whims of Mistress, a.k.a., the Goddess Emmalee.

I'll say it again, it's what they signed up for, when they signed up with me.

So, have fun!😊

xxox Emm

* * * * * * * * *

"Couples Counseling" Part Four

by Emmalee_Strict

©2024

Toshiro's jaw clenches so tautly, I can hear the grinding.

Up close, actually, because I've got my chin propped on his shoulder and my head tipped restfully against his. I'm lazily crouched on one knee behind his kneeling body. One arm draped around his neck, the other around his waist, fingers splayed across his pelvis just above his manhood, idly stroking his smooth, groomed flesh ... casually, affectionately staking out my ownership over his surrendered body ... watching the show.

"Pute! Keep silent, still! Ne bouge pas! Chienne!"

*swat! swat!*

*squeal! squeal!*

Gripping her ponytail to keep her upright, Victor is flogging Paige's bare pussy with his short-tailed cat-o-nine-tails; her job is to stand there and take it. She is free of my ropes but her kitten-gloves are cuffed behind her. Ballgagged, her huffy little gripes are muffled and frustrated. Up off her bare heels, her athletic legs are spread obscenely at his command, exposing her hot-pink vulva, and her calves quiver with the strain of controlling herself as the cat-strokes fall.

With my body pressed into his, I sense in Tosh's bound, kneeling body a struggle for self-control of a different kind. I want to help him with that. But first, I need him to marinate in it a little longer.

*swat!*

*squeal!*

I'm enjoying the show, but I admit, it hasn't played out like I'd pictured it. Four minutes in, and the Bull still hasn't inserted his penis into Paige's mouth. Instead, he's chosen the tack of first breaking down the fiery redhead: mocking, degrading, punishing her; tiring her out; making her afraid of him. But if I'm surprised, I'm not disappointed. As always, I respect Vic's artistic choices.

Tosh, not so much. I know that. But that's his challenge, his test of submission, and if he really wants it to stop, I'll know.

*swat! swat!*

*squeal! squeal!*

"Still! I said, keep still, chienne!"

Of course, Tosh isn't taking any of this well. At my order, he holds his chin up to give the sexual assault of his lovely wife his rapt, wordless attention. Bound also by my strongly-worded gag order, he's so tortuously bottled up, I think his only release would be either to cry, or to cum. He won't get the latter; but I would love to see the former. Let's see what I can do about that?

"Like what you see, slave?" I ask him. "Does it arouse you?"

Tosh doesn't react. Actually, I don't need to ask: the eager boner from before, when it was just us one-on-two, pretty much deflated once the fourth wheel rolled into the room. But I note there's still a healthy chub to his junk. I want to play with that.

"Me, I'm watching it like BDSM fetish porn; you should try it. See, there's the brawny, well-endowed Blackamoor menacing the captured, blue-eyed, European damsel. The dramatic tension of wondering, ooh, when does the rapey, interracial mouth-plunder begin?"

I laugh, pointing, "Wondering maybe ... how eagerly is the hapless white damsel looking forward to that?"

Finally, the Bull nods with satisfaction, lowering the flogger. "That's better, salope. Ready to behave?"

Fist in her ponytail, he forces his punished princess down on her knees. Paige squirms nervously on the carpet, eyes darting, hands straining behind her, drooling, bleating plaintively into her gag.

I purr into Tosh's ear, "Or do you it see it like I do? Your hot suburban wife's darkest, wettest 'yielding' fantasy come to life. Come on now, that has to arouse you ... because admit it, you've fantasized about giving her that ..."

Here, I twist the knife. "...So why haven't you, Tosh?"

He groans. Sadly, I see his penis droop.

But more agreeably, I get the first of the tears I wanted. I micro-orgasm, ooh!, and gasp into his ear to let him know it. He sobs. And just like that, my puppy-pet is a little bit more broken.

#-#

Oh, don't hate me. This is good for him.

Remember: He promised to submit, I promised to test him, and he is learning what promises mean in my world. Sometimes they will be emotionally exacting. I'd warned the both of them: 'You are going to submit to my tests of your flesh, from the soles of your feet to the tips of your tongues, and everything in between...'

'Including,' I stressed, 'your minds, hearts and souls.' In Tosh's case, my challenges are meant to take him 'out of himself, ' something I know he needs, and he knows too. I've already explained it to him, if he wants answers about himself, we're going to find them in the depths of his complete submission to me.

Oh, and did I mention? He and his wife are paying me for this. Jeez.

Also good for him: his ringside seat on a master's class in M/f domination, if only he can appreciate it; open his mind and learn from it; or at least, as a spectator, enjoy it. Because the good part of the show is about to begin.

Moving closer, the Bull reaches around Paige's neck and strips out the ballgag, tossing it aside, a line of drool tracing its flight through the air. Paige works her jaw and licks her lips, looking up at him fearfully ... I think, anyway ... in any case, knowing better than to speak.

The Bull unfastens the codpiece-style flap in front of his custom leather pants, and we're all impressed with what flops out: bare and sooth, chubbed, black as coal, and monumental in proportions. Paige's wet, blue eyes widen in shock, desire and fear.

"Open your mouth, pute." The Bull grabs his cock. "Wider."

He lifts his shaft, which is stiffening in his hand, its business end jutting over the span of his fingers. It's like watching a crane operator at work. At his direction, Paige's mouth gapes wide, tongue lolling out whorishly, eyes up and locked onto his. But they're strangely calm, I see; with the Bull's prodigious manhood filling her field of vision, in her eyes there is an erotic, pacifying fascination.

Watching my obedient girl-slave, I decide at this point, my boy-slave needs a reward for his own submission. "There, there, puppy," I murmur, "you've been doing so well."

My fingers curl around his flaccid cock, and I murmur privately into his ear, "I know, all those words backed up so tight in your throat, they must feel like they want to burst. But I need you to know, your Mistress recognizes your obedience, self-discipline and submission. She feels your pain."

I point to his wife. "And your sacrifice."

Slowly, the Bull's hand feeds his thick black mamba into Paige's face. Tensing, she whimpers at the intrusion, gurgles once ... tries to settles down ... then, as his cock works her mouth with shallow, probative thrusts, she begins to gurgle again, but rhythmically.

Tosh whimpers.

"Shhh, pet, let me help you. Here, I'll speak for you: 'I didn't agree to this, Mistress,' you want to say. 'I agreed, Paige and I both did, to submit to you, Mistress, our trusted friend and neighbor -- not to any surprise cameo appearances. Especially him. This ... this is too much.'

The Bull draws back from a prolonged test of plugging her airway, and Paige sputters as she sucks in new breath.

"'Please. No. Not him,'" I mock-whine. "Answer me true, pet, doesn't your Mistress-owner speak your mind with uncanny accuracy?"

With a gust of pent-up wind whistling through his lips, he nods his head, yes.

"See what happened there?" I laugh sweetly. "That last breath, dear pet -- the relief, the unburdening. You've learned a lesson in submission right there: Despite the frustration and pain of everything you've been holding inside, you obeyed me; and enduring with discipline and patience, you finally received your reward: the delight of discovering that your Mistress knows your mind without the help of your words. Reassuring, isn't it?

"And that she knows," I whisper, my hand lifting his cock, which stirs in my easy grip, "when to give her slave relief from his suffering."

Glancing up at the floor show, I see the Bull testing a new angle of entry into Paige's throat. He dip his knees and tilt his hips up, one firm hand lowering his suck-slut's face down onto his pole. There's a mucusy rattle back there, but Paige adjusts and endures. The Bull shoots me an approving smirk, telling me, 'Impressive gag control.'

Tosh sobs with a plaintive note that seems to be asking me for help. I give him that. I treat his shaft to an expert stroke, then another. Tosh's breath first catches in his throat, then heaves out as a husky, moaning gasp.

"Yes, breathe freely, pet," I urge him. "Don't speak, though. Listen while Mistress tries to help you."

I point. "Over there, what you think you see isn't a man, but an 'implement.' It's not a surprise guest or a familiar face, a rival who provokes your boring, stupid, narcissistic jealousy. Rather, it's simply a tool of mine. Like your collar, these bondage gloves, or my whip.

"So all you have to do is think of that..." indicating the Bull, "as my whip. A whip with a cock, maybe, but that's all it is."

Feeling his penis twitching and growing in my hand, I think he's trying out my suggestion in his struggling mind, and it's starting to work for him. Seizing on that, I purr in his ear, "And just like my whip is an extension of my arm ... that is an extension of my will."

I put the last word, 'will,' into his ear with a seductive lilt.

Bingo. At last, fully engorged, my pet surrenders his obedient slave-meat into the hand that owns it.

Spell woven. Or maybe I mean, restored.

#-#

The Bull has completed his methodical sounding-out of the depths his suck-slut's throat. Now we've moved on to 'Alors, show me what you can do.' He freed Paige's wrists but left on the kitten-mittens, and ordered her to hold her hands behind her neck, elbows out wide.

Facing his cock, she kneels up, rising to the challenge; or to my eye, lunging into it. I can tell she's grateful to have back some agency in her fate, for one thing -- not to mention having her mouth and hands 'freed,' relatively speaking -- but also, I think she's got something to prove.

Her pouty, smiling lips swallow up the Bull's cockhead. "Mmh," she pants, "mmmh."

Her cheeks flex, I see, something active going on inside that mouth. The Bull exhales, settling himself, maybe taken a little aback. He folds his hands behind him, standing perfectly still, letting the blowjob come to him.

"Mmh mhh mhh..." Paige's head pistons steadily, swallowing more of him, slurping back, flexing her cheeks, swallowing more.

Oh, this one's out to prove her husband right. Ironically enough, I think.

"Darling," I call out to Vic, "do you consider that slave-mouth capable of coaxing out your seed?"

"Given time, peut-être," the Bull nods tentatively. "If so, shall I feed the slave?"

"Not without permission, d'accord?"

"D'accord, Maîtresse." Ever dutiful, Vic seems fine with that.

"The same goes for you," I warn Tosh sternly. Using his dick to hoist him off his haunches, I have him kneel up straight. I want him watching his wife's oral wantonness with a good deal more focus.

"Guh, guh, guh," Paige says.

"By the way, see what I did there? Decreed his abstinence. How he acknowledged who's in charge of this pheromone-soaked room. See his hands behind him, like he's bound ... bound by my will? More proof that here, the Goddess Emmalee is in complete control."

I chuckle into his ear, "Which I think is a comfort to you, slave. Admit it, I ordered you to feel better about yourself ... and you've obeyed."

With a groan, he wags his head in thanks.

"Then say it, slave, and mean it. Enjoy your freedom to speak for a few moments," I tell him, "but make it count."

"Ohhhh, Mistress," he gasps, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut. "Thank you, Mistress, I am grate-- your slave is grateful for your guidance, your training, and-- ahhh! My Mistress protects and comforts her slaves, from, from--"

I think he's losing his train of thought, or worried the clock is ticking down on his voice privileges, so he bring it home: "Please, your slave submits his-his, ahh, all of me, huhh -- to my Goddess's will."

"Well done, puppy! Now, silence." After a pause to let the order sink in, I giggle seductively, "Oh, but I take you at your word, believe me. And I'll hold you to that."

My voice turns serious now, but soothing. "Listen, I want you to know, my slave has impressed me with his honesty, courage and obedience. Your submission has exceeded my expectations. All of which is to say, my plaything and pet ... you please me."

He whimpers in gratitude. I smile at that; the desired reaction to such praise, as if he'd been trained to it. Touched by his progress, I'm going to reward him. I see a copious ooze of precum glistening on his cockhead. I gather up the clear, gooey secretions, and with one hand anchoring his base, the other smooths his juice down the length of his shaft.

"Uhh-huhh-hh!" I see his buttocks clench and his hips jerk. He shivers all over. He bites his lip and groans piteously.

I pump his moistened shaft, easing my grip and splaying out my fingers at the end of each gentle up-stroke, before I release his meat altogether. This latest twist is driving him wild. But I know what I'm doing. 'Wild' is one thing, 'uncontrolled' is something else. My skilled hands know the difference; there aren't going to be any surprises coming from this slave-meat while I'm in charge of it.

"Oh, and remember, slave: If you cum without permission, I'll chain you to the correction bench, plug your mouth, and torture you until it ceases to amuse me," I laugh cheerfully. "Oooh, slave, how good does it feel to please your Goddess?"

"So goooo--"

"Hush!" I give his cock a punitive twist. "Rhetorical question. I expect my slave to read me better than that. Oh, don't start disappointing me now, pet, not when you're doing so well."

With a flurry of pumping caresses, I bring him shudderingly close. When he exhales, I clamp his mouth and nose in a suffocating grip at the same time as I slap his dick as hard as I can.

"MGHHH!" he wails in muffled anguish.

Hips shivering, Tosh slumps. With the hand that grips his face, I straighten him back up. Settling him upright, I roughly yank his head back against my neck, reach my other hand down and resume edging him ... Release his nose, let him breathe, bring him close again ... then clench his nostrils shut, slap his dick and twist his nipple.

"Mghhh!"

Then starting edging him once more ...

"Um, Maîtresse?"

Out on the floor, the Bull looks up from his suck-slut's labours and looks at me with his face a bit screwed up. "Maîtresse, respectfully, I believe we're, ahh!, approaching the point of 'shoot it or lose it.' Your instructions?"

I take my hand away from its business with Tosh's penis, letting him think I've forgotten about him.

"Your assessment," I remind Vic.

He shows me an exasperated face like, Why are you dragging this out when I just said I'm about to blow? I don't respond; but he knows this about me, if I've got three slaves in the room at once, I'm going to torture all of them.

"Ahh, that." Vic tugs back on Paige's ponytail to give himself a bit of relief. "Alors, for a slave who has been first-collared just this evening, remarkable. There are only six skills I would train up. Otherwise, this slave-mouth performs like it was born to it."

"Thank you. So, mon Toueau, what would you propose for her next slave-breaking exercise?"

He shrugs. It's a French sort of shrug, where you can almost picture him puffing on a cigarette and going, pfffft. "The slave's body is still too active and overexcited. A taming-fuck, peut-être?"

"Nothing would please me more," I say, with a wink that lets him know I haven't forgotten my promise of his 'spoils.' "Mais malhereusement, I need to extract the husband's permission first."

"Mmgh?" Tosh bridles.

I still have his mouth clamped, though I've released his nose, and my other hand has returned to his erection. "But I'll have that shortly," I smile.

I point to Paige. "Meanwhile, string up la chienne and whip the overexcitement out of her. If nothing else, she needs punishment for not getting you off, eh?"

"Mmgh?" It's Paige's turn to bridle. Cock in her mouth, her eyes shoot me that familiar look of, oh the unfairness! Not to mention, the affront to her cocksucking skills. Either way, defiance; an unacceptable display of backsliding, requiring immediate correction.

"Here," I unhook a ring-gag off my belt and toss it Vic. "Start by punishing that sassy mouth."

He pries open Paige's jaws, works in the gag and buckles the straps in back. Wide-eyed, she quickly learns, it's a pretty big ring. That's part of the punishment.

"'Leeth, 'Iss-esstth..."

Gagspeak for, 'Please, Mistress.' The other part of the punishment is, it makes her mewl like a barnyard animal. Whatever happens to her next, I expect to hear her squealing like a pig.

Returning my attention to Tosh, "Did I fail to mention the 'permission' thing? Must've slipped my mind. I had various ideas about getting that from you, but I suppose I owe you the courtesy of just asking. Oh, by the way, keep in mind you just heard me say, 'Nothing would please me more,'" I giggle.

I whisper it in his ear, "May we tame-fuck your wife?"

I punctuate the question with a tender caress of his bulging balls and I release his mouth.

"Please, Mistress --"

"Ugh, what is this epidemic of 'Please, Mistress' going on around here? Slave, one more chance, then we'll do it my way. A yes or no question." Marking each syllable with a wickedly persuasive stroke of his cock, I repeat it, "May. We. Fuck. Your. Wife?"

With Tosh on the verge of exploding, his panting mouth can't help itself: "Mistress, I -- please --"

"'Please,'" I huff with exasperation, releasing his cock and standing up. "'Please, Mistress.' Well, hold onto that thought."

I unfasten my skirt and let it fall off my waist. I reach for the 'surprise' toys on the floor behind him and straighten up, slide the blindfold over his eyes and strap it tight.

And right before I clamp the headphones on, I tell him seductively, "Because, 'please Mistress' is about to become the only thought you'll have room for in your head."

#-#

"Here we are, Tosh, just the two of us." My voice jolts him. It barges without warning into the blackness and silence that's been his entire world for the last two minutes; which I've spent, incidentally, instructing Victor precisely on what I want done to Paige. "Relax, slave, surrender. Let your Mistress fill your senses."