Mistress Dusty

"What?"

"You dress like this at home, stockings, garter belt, heels, cage. I'm going to add mousetraps to your nipples at half time."

"M-Miss Dusty, I can't receive guests this way."

"You do it all the time."

"Y-your friends, but not mine. My buddies don't know I wear this crap around the house."

"Shit? You like this outfit. You used to ask me to have you balance books on your head so you could walk like a lady, and cane you viciously if you slipped up."

Dusty giggled at the memory.

"I caught you jerking off in this outfit right after we wed, clothespins on your nipples, but attached to a string that circled your scrotum...and I remembered begging you to go to therapy, that I just wanted to be a devoted wife."

"But I don't want people to see me like this!"

Dusty was laughing at the memory of those early days, and her cleavage was pressing against the sundress. Crake's dick was now purple, the cage pointing up at his navel.

"Honey, no. I can't do this. That wasn't the deal. You promised. " Crake rose from his knees and stomped his foot, nearly breaking an expensive heel.

"The deal was, you could have a football party. But this is what you wear around the house all the time, and there's no reason to be ashamed of it. The girls can't have their friends over, because Daddy's a perv, we all want you to have your experience"

"No!" Crake's hands turned into manicured fists. "I am getting dressed and having my damn party."

"Oh, we've got attitude now?" Dusty's eyebrows rose as she looked at her tempestuous husband. "Go get the razor strop and the Spencer paddle."

"What? No, please, honey. I'll calm down. It isn't-"

"No. And get the big strap-on. It's time we graduate to the foot and a half. That will take care of your bitchiness. Treat you like a real bitch. Now, Creighton."

Crake knew when Dusty used his real name that she wasn't fooling around.

But he tried once more. The foot and a half dildo (black and thick plastic) was not something he could deal with right now.

Crake had gone to law school for part of a semester before being kicked out and taking over Dad's chain of car washes. He could argue with her.

"Please, dear. I'll call everyone and cancel the party. I'll tell Smitty to go to Ralphies and watch the game." Crake's knees were knocking against each other.

Dusty's whippings were severe, and also, it would take up time that Crake would need to call the fellas. They just couldn't see him like this.

But his cock was empurpled and widening against the bars, and part of Crake knew that he hoped it would all go through. The whipping, the cancelled football party. Maybe being forced to kneel naked in the corner while the guys watched the game with Dusty. Oh, the humiliation.

As if Dusty could read his mind, she said "No, Crakie. You're getting punished just like last week when I had to paddle you in the changing room at Nieman-Marcus because you wouldn't let me buy you that pretty 17th century pink ruffled shirt. "

Crake remembered, his pants down, the thick hairbrush Dusty carried in her purse rising and falling as he lay over her knees. Coming out of the changing room, wearing the ruffled pink shirt as the salesgirls looked at his tear stained face curiously.

"I haven't given you a real thrashing in some time, and you're a brat."

Dusty's composed voice brought Crake back to the present.

"P-please. I'll just watch the game alone. Dressed like this!"

"No, that wasn't the agreement. You'll get a whipping, and then I'm going t o lock you in the kennel downstairs for six hours. until you are cramped up from the kneeling position. I may put your kennel in the back yard. There will be mosquitoes tonight."

He wouldn't be able to watch the game at all. Crake stumbled on his heels to go inside and find the implements and the strap-on. His penis was like an MX missile now, and he was tempted to go take a cold shower, but Dusty would be timing him.

It would be a long, sad, evening, and Crake wouldn't get to see the Buttermilk Bombers play.

Dusty smiled to herself as she watched the screen door close behind her husband's bare butt. He was careful not to slam it, Dusty had taught Crake the hard way that he must contain his moods.

Dusty's French-Canadian mother had warned her. "Dussierre, you must avoid weak men, even rich ones, mon cherie."

But Dusty was strong enough for both her and Crake, and Dusty's parents were grateful for the money sent regularly back to Toronto...

The screen door opened again and Crake came back out, holding the strap-on, the razor strop and the thick wooden Spencer paddle embossed with the marvelous holes that made it easier to swing.

Jesus, look at him, Dusty thought. Hanging head, glitter polish on his nails, his big fat hips in the garter belt, the hideous stockings and tranny shoes...and of course there's his dick, squeezing out of the little bars of the chastity cage.

It looked somewhat damaged, his penis did, puffing through the criss crossed bars.

"Aaw, baby" Dusty said with a smile. "I can't break the rules, but maybe instead of a whipping, I should jerk you off-the party's cancelled but you did all this stuff for me so you could have this little get-together. I owe it to you."

"I also did all those things because I am a devoted submissive"

Yeah, right.

Crake was so stupid, his face brightening at the thought of an apologetic hand job. Although Dusty often teased Crake manually when he was bound to the bed, she never gave him a "Happy Ending", and usually didn't take the cage off.

Sometimes she would rub his engorged member with ice to make it small again, and others she'd just whip it with a crop or slipper...but there was only so much tenderness coming from Dussierre Ruhe-Ingledew.

"Of course, precious. I'll even take the cage off. First go inside and get a blindfold, some lube and the police handcuffs."

Dusty giggled as Crake ran into the house, stumbling over his heels in the rush for pleasure. When he returned, Crake obediently put the blindfold on, and let Dusty cuff his hands behind his back.

Dusty took the key off her necklace, which always lay provocatively across her cleavage, and removed the chastity cage, smiling as Crake gasped in relief. It had been at least a fortnight since it had been off his poor cock.

"You poor thing." Dusty said in a honeyed tone. Stroking Crake's member, she watched it expand more, noting all the bruises.

"The wires really did a job on your skin didn't they baby...look at that red imprint.

"There's the big burn where nasty old Master Minafer burned his Cuban cigar on your frenulum, yes let me rub it...

Master Scudder stomped your dick here, look at the effects from the steel toed engineers boots, and here are some scars from when I used the clothes hanger on your tip, why do you provoke me, baby."

Dusty snorted as she watched Crake shudder, remembering the clean welting slices of the flailing wire clothes hanger.

Dusty had tied his penis to a split that prevented it from going soft for that punishment, and really had enjoyed flogging his um, monkey.

The screen door banged again, and the girls came out, all blonde curls and short-shorts over bikini bottoms.

"We're going to the beach with Tianna and the guys, oh my God, dad you're such a freak." Seldi said, staring at naked, trembling Crake. The devoted daughters just snickered and departed, noting they couldn't ask for money, as Dad was not wearing trousers to hold a wallet in.

And now of course, Crake was even more embarrassed and far more aroused.

Dusty noticed that Crake's crotch was well shaved, good for him! Whenever Crake didn't do a good job, Dusty would pull the spare hairs out with a tweezers, which made him scream, and taught him to be more thorough when he did his ablutions.

Sometimes she'd put a cigarette out on his inner thigh to also encourage more careful shaving.

This was turning out to be an interesting afternoon.

Dusty rubbed and stroked Crake's penis and watched it expand, now unfettered by the bars of the cock cage.

"Mistress, why did you want me to wear the cuffs?" Crake's voice was shaking, as well as his legs. This tugging of his thing by the skilled fingers was making him a little dizzy.

"Oh, Crakie, I can't risk you running away and jerking off, can I?"

Dusty paused. "Mommie loves her Crakie very much but she can't always trust him."

Crake of course looked hopeful now. Dusty had become far crueler in later years and stopped referring to herself as the loving but somewhat disciplinary "Mommie"

The last time Crake had slipped and called Dusty "Mommie" instead of "Goddess" or "Mistress" Dusty had used the bullwhip and told Crake in acerbic tones that if she'd ever been mother to a sad sack of shit like him, she would have aborted it first.

And after that little slip, Dusty had required her husband to refer to her as "Mrs. Ingledew".

Also, Dusty had forbidden Crake to see her in the nude anymore at all. At one time Crake had been allowed to worship his wife's naked body and lick her to orgasm, and of course to serve her in the bath.

But now Dusty only let other men do this, often other submissives from the Pain Café's social group, and poor Crake could only kneel with a blindfold on, listening to his wife in orgiastic ecstasy, not being allowed to see her beautiful long pink nipples, or sexy buttocks any longer.

This had been the hardest blow for Crake, being denied pleasures when other slaves could have them-it was bad enough when Dusty was fucking Andre and "The Duck" two of Crake's car wash employees, but other subbies?

Now Dusty was being so tender...calling herself Mommie.

"Mommie, you can always trust Crakie." Crake said, attempting to look at her from under the blindfold.

The dishonest bastard had tied the bandanna too loosely, and so Dusty leaned forward towards his penis, so he could just barely peek at her generous cleavage in the sundress.

Oh, that straining cock.

Crake had been uncircumcised when Dusty met him, but she'd had Master Cowlick and Mistress Madeira perform a public cutting some time back.

So Dusty no longer had to move Crake's foreskin when she stroked him.

Crake's glans had been very sensitive initially after being uncovered, and this had led to many unauthorized orgasms.

Now, of course Crake was well trained and could hold back his cum until given permission, the excessive whippings of his little meat had trained him well.

Though of course Crake was never given permission to cum with Dusty's hand on his thing, accidents happened.

Once, she'd been toying about with his cock, leading him from the shower into the bedroom, and he'd cum all over her work blouse, and it had been a nasty afternoon for poor Crake.

Usually after a long teasing, Dusty would now order Crake to go limp, and he'd try to think of taking out the trash or baseball scores.

This was especially hard when staring at Dusty in her glorious negligee, during teasing time, the full breasts bursting out of frilly black bras, and that sort of thing.

But if Crake was not limp within a minute after Dusty gave the word, out would come the punishing coat hanger.

Now and then, Dusty would throw the dice, and if it came up sevens, Crake was allowed five minutes to get himself off while kneeling.

If Crake couldn't cum within that time, or of course the dice came up with any other combination, he'd be barred from re-consideration for orgasm for at least another month.

Occasionally Dusty would make Crake rub his dick on the floor with his hands cuffed, and others she'd throw in a little humiliation, like making him jack off in the picture window of his family mansion, or getting a stinking homeless man to jack Crake off, but he came quickly anyway, horny Crake did.

She was seriously thinking of one time having him suck the homeless man off first...

Dusty now wrapped her right hand around Crake's erect shaft, running it back and forth with her left over the trembling skin. Dusty poured a little Astroglide on the base of Crake's cock, and massaged it just a little faster.

"Mommie, I forgot. I have to call the guys. I don't want to run off to do it but..."

"Because I might change my mind and not jerk you, Crakie?"

"Y-yes, but I can't risk them seeing me this way. I mean, Whitey is in the Masons with me, and we're all Rotarians and Shriners, you know.

Dusty thought of the ridiculous Shriner fez and began laughing inwardly again.

"Could you just hold off while I run and get my cell phone? I promise not to touch my cock."

"Crake, last weekend when I agreed to this party, and you called the guys, I predicted you were going to change your mind because of the wardrobe issue.

I cancelled with your friends days ago. Don't worry about it."

Dusty looked up from her manual ministrations to watch Crake's face go from outrage-that he'd never actually gotten the party privilege at all, even though his mouth and anus had been soiled in all those efforts.

Then is face showed relief that the guys weren't coming over, and then his head hung when Crake realized how pathetic and predictable he really was.

All this humiliation of course made his masochistic member get even more solid. Denied again, more privileges, with more torture, what a turn on!

When Dusty had cancelled all Crake's porn channels and his magazine subscriptions ("Barely Legal" and so on) telling him that not only could he not see her nude, but n o other porn not even the "Sports Illustrated" swimsuit images would be available...

Poor Crake had thrown a tantrum for which he'd received a whipping, but his cock had gotten even harder with these loss of privileges.

Now, Dusty closed her fingers a little as her lubed hand reached the head of Crake's cock, before she loosened a little going back down to the base.

Dusty then used both hands in an alternating cycle of smooth upstrokes. She slowed a little as Crake trembled, he'd not cum in so long.

"Crakie, Mommy will be very displeased if bad boy has an accident."

Crake shuddered, considering the punitive implications of this, and his penis went slightly limp.

Dusty stood and leaned towards her blindfolded, trembling husband and gave him a long sloppy kiss, her cologne enveloping his naked body. Then she hugged him and kissed his neck a bit.

"Mommie just doesn't want you to stop your pleasure too soon. I'm not trying to be a meanie."

More sloppy kisses and lipstick prints all over Crake's chin.

"I know my big boy wants to see his football game and I'm so sorry that didn't work out for you, sugar plum, but let's enjoy this good time."

Crake bit his lip and said, as Dusty's face was next to his,

"Maybe we could make love, it's been so long."

Dusty remembered the last time Crake had hinted for this, she'd branded the tip of his now circumcised penis with a blue question mark, which she swirled her finger about now.

Dusty sat down now, trying not to burst into hilarity.

"Mommie loves her little darling but doesn't feel that way about him."

Crake's shoulders slumped.

"You know little boys don't get to make it with Mommie. Mommie doesn't even let you touch or see her titties, but you should be lucky for what you have, darling."

Crake thought of how long it had been since he'd been able to touch and kiss Mommies' breasts, or even see them. Once or twice he'd spied her in the shower, but that was a very risky business.

Tears rolled down from the bandanna, as Crake tried to bite his lip and be manly. But it was all too much.

"Crakie, this is why Mommie doesn't make it with you. You're a little crybaby. What woman wants to have sex with an obese, indulged transvestite who sobs?"

Crake cried some more, but tried to remember when he'd been a Marine (where he'd cried easily as the company goat, when the drill sergeant persecuted him)

"Crakie, you know you asked Mommie for this. You like being dominated. I was a very sexy wife for you, but things changed, and I doubt they can change back at this point...your masculinity is shot."

Crake bit his tongue now. Oh, it's true, I'm just a little bitch. His cock became granite beneath Dusty's nimble fingers.

"I am so sorry if my training of you has gone further than you would have liked-I remember when we just did one weekend a month of BDSM, and then every weekend gradually, which is what you wanted."

She rubbed a little faster, but then when Crake seemed close to cumming, Dusty pinched the tip of his penis with her long nails, and Crake emitted a little shriek.

Dusty considered that if Maman could see what kind of husband her daughter really had, it might make her mother physically ill.

"I'm just not attracted to little faggots that run around in stockings and garter belts."

Crake wept silently, though his cock got harder again as she rubbed faster.

"Mommie doesn't think normal, healthy men like having their nipples caned before dressing for a dinner party, or being forced to suck off men in public restrooms...

'Forced' but what do you really want, honey? Asking me to shove huge objects up your rectum. Mommie likes men who are men all the time, not boys who pretend to be dressed and normal for their friends, meeting for a rare football game."

Crake thought about how contemptuous his competitive friends would be if they could see what had happened to him.

But Dusty's voice continued cheerfully. "What would Ralphie, Whitey and Smitty think of cross-dressing Crakie Ingledew, once the big man on campus...

Though you were kind of a bully-bitch in the old days, humiliating coeds after screwing them, and torturing fraternity pledges. So sad."

"And now, you're just a sad little ladyboy drag queen and you want your buddies not to know what you've become? Your neighbor Todd Greenbaum knows, your daughters know..."

Crake sobbed a bit, but then Dusty rubbed his now straining organ a little faster, reaching stealthily beneath her lawn chair to pick up a long thorny rose branch that she'd appropriated when Crake was cutting earlier.

"But Mommie loves her Sissypants and she wants to reward him. Are you ready for your reward, Crakie? I've been rubbing faster and slower, but it's time now."

"Oh yes, please, Mommie."

The anticipation on Crake's face, tears now drying on his chubby cheeks, joyous anticipation of orgasm.

It almost sent Dusty to vomit in disgust over the deck, but she paused and raised the thorny branch.

She thought of Smitty, who was still coming unwittingly to this football party, and what he'd discover about his old friend.

"Mommie, I'm ready." Of course Crakie was impatient for his glorious reward.

Dusty raised the thorny branch right over Crake's cock...

"Here it comes, darling"

As the branch hovered over Crake's bulging shaft, he, in the blindfold looked hopelessly calm.