Letter from Eugene

Dear Shoeblossom:

I did something that's rare--I was seeing a professional dominatrix, Goddess Octane of Eugene, Oregon, and recently we realized that we had a lot in common. We loved sailing, and opera, and sports, and we began dating.

It helped a bit that I am relatively well off, my grandfather invented something or other that makes cars do whatever, it's not terribly clear, and I finally got Octane to marry me.

But she was clear from the beginning that I was her submissive, and that wouldn't change. I didn't realize how strident this would be until our wedding night.

"So I think we'll start you out with three orgasms a week, and then in 90 days we'll move to three a month, and then in the fall we'll go to three a year and keep it that way, Trip" she told me with a brisk smile.

"Really?" I asked. I had been doing chastity training with various Mistresses around the Eugene and Springfield and Corvallis area for several decades, and felt secure in a belt, but Octane was so beautiful and feminine that I thought we might have a little bit more action after we'd wed.

Most of our sex life in the time between becoming a couple and getting married had been oral from my side, but she had let me penetrate her once or twice, and I really wanted to follow through with more of this now that we were wed, right?

"So when we get to three times a year, it would be perhaps every four months. You can handle that, right, Trip?"

"Maybe with a bonus one on Christmas and my birthday?" I was grasping for straws here.

Octane gave me a contemptuous look from where she was sitting cross legged (She's a Yoga ninja!) on her bed. She had this splendid resemblance to the cartoon warrior chick from the 80's "Heavy Metal" videos...

"No, on your birthday and Christmas we can exchange regular gifts, Trip. Though of course you can give me lingerie. I enjoy that. The denial is good for you, as a husband. It will encourage you to appreciate me. We've seen in the last year and a half how much better your attitude is when I keep you locked for a fortnight or more at a time..."

She paused, smiling slightly at my woebegone face. "I will still give you long teases, and take off the belt regularly to clean and shave your pubes and rub you a bit with my titties...you'll be stimulated and attended to. I'm not one of those dominant wives who just lock up hubby and forget about him." She winked. I knew I'd still get splendid hand jobs with no happy ending...they were so glorious!

I had enough good sense not to argue with Octane about my sexual needs. When I became occasionally truculent, she'd been an enthusiastic and adept wielder of the bullwhip and the canes, but also, Octane had a good relationship with male leather Masters in Portland.

Once, just to give me a taste of hardcore domination with not much arousal, she'd left me with three Portland male Masters, walking out of Master Argenteri's dungeon with a flirty blonde smile, snapping her red nails and waving.

I had been standing there naked, dejected, with three big strong men in leather, grinning around me...

And when I'd returned home 72 hours later,(They dropped me off on my own front porch in a burlap bag) I'd cried in Octane's arms, and she'd stroked my hair and toyed with my caged penis. The bars of my little cock prison were too tight for me to masturbate but wide enough that my skin was exposed for impact from switches, w hips and crops and many, many cigarette burns as Master Argenteri was a chain smoker of American Spirit filter-tips.

Of course it must've aroused me somewhat, Octane noted, since my dick had been bulging through the bars during the three day session, enough so my wang could take various jolts and scorches.

"This is good for you, babe" Octane had said then, kissing the tears from my eyes as I'd recounted all the Masters had done to me, my mouth was exhausted from sucking and my anus way distended from dozens of hard dicks.

Octane had kissed the tears from my eyes as she rubbed a little healing Vaseline on my burned and sore caged cock. " Now you won't be whining or showing attitude when my fuck-buddies come over."

And at our wedding, Octane had been a beautiful, glorious bride in white, so kind to my dazzled parents. Octane had always been quiet about her career as a pro-domme, and had a more public career as a florist...both endeavors had been given up so she could stay at home now...why not?

In Eugene, Oregon society, it was a great thing, she could be a country-club girl, fucking tennis pros and decorating the house I'd bought for her.

But, when the reception was done, and we got into the honeymoon suite at the pricey "Inn at the 5th" (very upscale in Oregon) I wanted to spoil her.

Octane sat back on the bed in her frilly satin body stocking, so gorgeous! She'd insisted I stay chaste for a month before the wedding though she'd teased me mercilessly three or four nights a week with her French nails, getting me all excited about the honeymoon.

Sadly, these nights had been interspersed with me having to clean her juices off Javier, her fuck-buddy's cock, and making him hard enough to fuck her again!

And then she told me, I'd get the three orgasms a week over our honeymoon, going on to three a month, and three a year after that...what a nice announcement on our honeymoon!

Octane pushed her tits together in the low cut bridal gown I'd bought her. I knew I couldn't jump onto the bed without permission.

The night before, when I'd scoped the bridesmaids out at the rehearsal dinner, Octane had taken me home, stripped me down and made me do 300 jumping-jacks while she swung at my naked hips with a cut off piece of garden hose.

And then, tonight, she's telling me three orgasms for the week while we're in the honeymoon suite, and then I'd be locked up while she and Javier flew to Italy, for a honeymoon that had been a present from my parents.

And I'd be locked in chastity till they came back in two weeks!

I really had hoped we could make love for the week before they left. I was truly despondent.

"So can we have sex tonight? Maybe I can have an orgasm, one of the three?" I felt ridiculous kneeling on the floor, beseeching her.

And then Octane giggled, and pointed to the corner of the suite. I had kneeling stocks at home, I'd built them myself, custom carpentry being a hobby of mine, and Octane loved using them, making me kneel naked with my head and hands through the holes, and the stocks were kept in our basement...she thought I was way too clingy.

But the stocks she'd gotten for the honeymoon suite was just a thick block of wood with four holes in it. Instead of putting my head and wrists through holes and kneeling crouched over on the floor, as I did at home, with this one my hands and feet were in the holes, and I was forced to kneel with my head on the floor!

Then, after I'd been secured, Octane charitably put a pillow under my head and then as I lay there, she reached under my prone stomach, unlocked my cage and stroked my hard dick for some time, asking if I wanted to cu m now, or later on, since I only had the three orgasms before Friday.

It had been a month since my last orgasm, and I was so aroused, thrusting my hard cock against her tender fingers...and then I asked if we could screw just once.

"Please let me out of this, and let us fuck, just this once?"

Immediately, Octane let go of my penis, got up and went behind, where my legs and wrists were trapped in the stocks and neatly kicked me in the nuts from the back.

As I wept (my cock even harder) Octane refreshed her lipstick, put on an enchanting clubbing dress she'd gotten probably at the Wet Seal. Then she came back around and yanked the pillow out from under my head and my head bounced on the floor.

Octane then went to the little dorm fridge and fumbled around and brought out a long, thick cucumber which she shoved you know where, further forcing my legs apart.

She then called Javier on her cell, telling him to meet her at the Starlight Lounge.

Octane left the honeymoon suite, and I didn't see her till the next day.

And what a night! I was locked in the stocks, and my butt felt really raped. When Octane returned the next morning, looking a bit disheveled herself, she rolled me over and saw a wet spot on the carpet. Octane correctly deduced that I'd somehow pressed my dick against the floor and rubbed one out.

Octane got me out of the stocks and laughed as I ran to pee and of course take the cuke out of my hole.

"So you have two more orgasms till I leave for Naples with Javier, huh? You gave yourself one...now get in the tub, I'm going to give you an ice-cold enema and you can sit with it while Javier and I go jogging and have croissants...it's going to be quite a honeymoon!"

That's the end of my story, Shoeblossom. We've been fairly happily married for almost four years. I've had, I think sixteen orgasms, but they've been happy ones! Best,

C. Wright McTripper IV