My Journey to Submission Pt. 06

"In your mouth, Mistress. And..." I stopped, and in the few seconds it took me to overcome my shame sufficiently to say the rest, the crop again snapped down. "And in your anus."

"In my anus," she repeated in her clipped voice. "I see. So, it turns out that after I showed you a little kindness downstairs, you immediately rushed up here and started fantasizing about fucking me in the ass. Is that right? And what else went through your filthy little mind? Did you picture me tied up? Were you whipping me? Was I begging you? Did you picture your nasty sperm dripping from me when you were finished using me?"

What the fuck? Were my brainwaves being broadcast over wifi as I jerked off?

Later, of course, I realized that she'd simply participated in enough of my fantasies as my submissive to know what turned me on the fastest. But in any case, I had no choice but to confess, "Yes, Mistress."

"Which part of it? And don't you dare leave anything out."

"All of it," I said, utterly broken down and miserable. I felt tears of shame well up in my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mistress. I just want you so much..."

She smacked my cock again. "Shut up. You sicken me." The bathroom was silent for a few moments. Then Ellen said in a curious voice, "So, you just want me so much. Well, let's see about that."

She reached out, took a squirt of gel into her hand and started massaging my cock. I didn't expect this gesture, and I squirmed a little out of surprise and nervousness.

"Shhhh... It's OK," she said. "You can relax. I'm here with you."

As I mentioned before, her movements when giving me a handjob had usually been cold and clinical, designed to bring me release quickly. But this was nothing like that. She was warm and sensual, and after just a few seconds, my desire began to displace my guilt and shame. I moaned slightly.

"Mmmmm, do you like that?" Ellen asked seductively.

"Yes, Mistress." My cock started to grow hard.

"I know you do. It's OK to like it." Her voice softened to a whisper as she continued to massage me. She formed her fingers into a faux vagina and worked it up and down my shaft, until my hips started to move against her hand.

"Should I stop?" she asked, in the same gentle whisper.

"No, Mistress. Please don't stop." She continued to move her fist up and down my shaft, and my need became overpowering.

"Would you like me to make you cum?" Ellen asked gently.

"Yes please, Mistress," I answered.

"I need you to beg me," she said.

"Please make me cum, Mistress. Please." She continued massaging me until I felt my orgasm start to build. I moaned again, louder this time.

"Keep begging," Ellen insisted. "If you don't beg, then I'll stop."

"Please don't stop, Mistress," I whimpered. "I'm begging you. Please let me cum."

"Tell me what you'd do for me to let you cum right now." She brought me near the edge, rubbing her fingers along my most sensitive nerves. "Tell me what you'd do," she whispered, now very seductively.

"I'd do anything, Mistress," I answered. "Please. Anything. Please make me cum."

"You'd do anything?" she insisted. Ellen expertly kept me at the very edge of climax, reducing the stimulation just in time to keep me from exploding, and increasing it again at the first hint that my arousal might fade.

"Yes, Mistress, anything." By this point, I was whimpering pathetically. "Please, I'm begging you. I'd do anything for you to make me cum. Please... Please..."

"I believe you," she said hypnotically, still keeping me at the edge. "You would do anything to cum, wouldn't you? You'd do anything. You'd put your cock in my pussy. You'd fuck me like a whore. You'd tie me up. You'd beat me. You'd torture me. You'd humiliate me. You'd violate me. You'd degrade me. You'd rape me. Wouldn't you?"

As she listed these horrible things, she continued to work my cock, but her touch had turned ice cold, and her voice had changed from that of my sweet seductress into that of my pitiless accuser. "Wouldn't you?" she repeated harshly.

My guilt and shame came flooding back, and the desire in my loins died as quickly as it had arisen. Despite her continued massaging, I went flaccid, and she let my cock go.

"But it's not that way." I protested, raising my head to look in her eyes. "Come on, I told you, it's just a fantasy; it's not real. You know that I've changed. You know that in real life I'd never hurt you." I felt tears of remorse and frustration well up in my eyes.

"You disgust me," she said, and she spat in my face. "Can't you see what a betrayal this is? What it means for me to know that every time you look at me, you're thinking of hurting me or raping me? Don't you realize how awful that is? God, you are so vile." She spat on me a second time.

"But it's not that way, Mistress," I insisted, my voice turning to a whimper as I tried to fight sobs of frustration. "I don't know what to tell you. I'm sorry, but it's not. Really, it's not." I was desperate for her to understand me, but she seemed determined not to.

She raised the riding crop as though to strike my cock again, but she reconsidered and placed it on the counter next to the sink. "Give me your hands," she commanded. I did so, she quickly bound my wrists together with plastic zip ties. She always kept a handful of these in her pockets, in case she needed me immobilized for some reason.

"I can't talk about this anymore. I feel completely dirty and violated right now, and I need some time to think." I started feeling real guilt at the thought that my selfishness might have caused her pain. "I'm going downstairs to have a cup of tea. I want you to stay here and think about what you did, and what it means for me. For us."

"Yes, Mistress," I replied.

After she left, I started shivering, from the cold, or from self-revulsion, or both.  

**********

Ellen returned after about twenty minutes to find me in the shower cabinet, with my hands tied and head bowed, her gobs of spit still on my face to remind me of her loathing for me. I was cold, snivelling, utterly miserable.

Through my lowered eyes, I saw that she held a sharp pair of scissors in her hand.

"I've decided something," she said, raising my chin and looking intently in my eyes. "Listen to me very carefully. I'm going to cut the ties on your wrists, and when I do, you'll be free. Completely. No cage. No collar. No submission." Her voice was very firm.

"But I don't understand, Mistress," I replied. Then I panicked at the thought, "Are you going to leave me, like you said?"

"No. I won't leave you," she answered. "I know that you've been trying, and I know that you've been faithful to me, and that's what I really wanted all along. So I'll stay for now, and we'll see how it goes."

"But how will it be between us now? I mean, all this," I said, gesturing vaguely to my bound hands.

She laughed with more than a touch of bitterness. "Well, you won't be topping me again anytime soon, if that's what you're thinking." After a pause, she shook her head and continued, "I don't know. I really don't. I hope we'll be able to work something out."

"I understand, Mistress," I said, a note of sorrow creeping into my voice. I bowed my head.

"Look at me," she said, and I looked up again. "It's not your fault. If anything, it was my mistake to think that I could help you change. But this incident shows that at the end of the day, you're just not capable of it."

"But I have changed," I protested. "You have to see how much more I love you now. I mean, I always loved you, but it's different now. I adore you now. I worship you. All I ever think about is pleasing you. And I'm trying so hard. I really am."

"I know you are," she said gently. "But deep down inside, you're not a submissive." I started to tremble as she said this. "It's a shame, after all the effort you've put into it. But I really think it would be better for both of us if you went back to the way you were. Who knows? Maybe we could find another woman and top her together."

I shook my head. "I don't want another woman; I want you," I said, and I meant it. In the past, I'd found our threesomes to be immensely pleasurable, but at that moment I found the thought of sticking my cock into any pussy but Ellen's to be repulsive.

Still looking into my eyes, Ellen continued in her soft, hypnotic voice. "Listen to me. I'm doing this for your happiness," she said. "I know that you've done everything I've asked of you, but I can sense that your heart's not in it. Deep down, you don't need me as your Mistress. You don't need my help, and you don't need my guidance. And you'd be happier if I set you free right now. Don't you agree?"

I tried to answer, but I choked on my emotions. "Don't you agree?" Ellen repeated.

"No, Mistress!" I finally managed to blurt out. She looked at me, seemingly surprised at my outburst. It had been months since I'd contradicted or raised my voice to her. I tried to hold her gaze, but I couldn't, and I lowered my head.

"Shhhh... Trust me," she said, taking my shoulders in her hands. "It's for the best. I know that you're starting to find some comfort in your submission, but I can't ask you to keep living a lie."

"It's not a lie," I insisted. Again, I raised my voice, this time out of desperation. "How can I prove it to you? Tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it. But don't free me, please. Be my Mistress."

She looked into my eyes. "It's been hard for you, hasn't it?" she asked, and I nodded. "Of course it has. This is new for me too, and I'm sure I've made my share of mistakes. But since I was the one who accepted dominance, it was my responsibility to make it work. So if it's been difficult, then it's really all my fault. Can you forgive me?"

I didn't know how to answer. "Yes" would imply that I agreed that she had done something wrong or that I had the right to decide whether or not to forgive. "No" would obviously be much worse. So I said nothing, and I looked down at her feet.

She gently lifted my head. "Do you really not want me to free you?" I shook my head. "I need you to tell me," she said firmly. "If you're sincere, then I need you to say it."

I swallowed hard, then spoke. "I don't want you to free me. I want to stay submissive to you. I want you to be my Mistress." I was overwhelmed with emotion, and tears formed in my eyes.

"Shhhh... don't cry," she said. "If you want me to be your Mistress, then I will be. And if you're willing to really trust me, to place yourself entirely in my hands, then I'll try to help you become a better submissive to me. Would you like that?" I nodded my head, but she shook her head and said, "I need you to ask me."

I lowered my eyes and answered, "Please help me become a better submissive to you, Mistress."

"Alright," she said. "Wait here." I heard the water running in the sink, and after a few moments, Ellen applied a hot, wet washcloth to my genitals, massaging all over and around my cock and balls. When the cloth cooled a bit, she again ran it under hot water and continued to warm my groin. A wave of pleasure washed over me, and I closed my eyes. The sensations weren't sexual, but spiritual. I loved her utterly, and I luxuriated in her care and tenderness.

I opened my eyes again when I heard snip, snip, snip, and I saw that she was cutting off my wet pubic hair with her scissors. I didn't resist. I just relaxed and watched another small symbol of my masculinity fall away.

When she'd finished with the scissors, she picked up my cordless beard trimmer and used it to shorten my pubic hair still further. Then she brought the trimmer up and cut a single stripe of my chest hair to a stubble.

Ellen put the gadget down and picked up a can of shaving cream. She squirted a large glob to the base of my cock and spread it all around my pubic area and over my scrotum. "Alright, you can finish the rest yourself," she said.

She rinsed off her hand, cut the zip ties from my wrists, and handed me the shaving cream, together with a pink woman's razor. "And not just around your genitals," she continued. "Your chest and armpits and legs and everything else. Thankfully, your back and bottom are already smooth, so I don't have to get involved again. Let me know when you're finished."

"Yes, Mistress," I acknowledged, and she left me to it.

***********

When Ellen re-entered the bathroom about twenty minutes later, she immediately noticed a problem. "You forgot your eyebrows and eyelashes," she said with a hint of displeasure. "But I guess we could let that go for now, considering your job and everything."

Holy fuck, I hadn't even considered that.

She ran a finger up the length of my leg, testing the smoothness of my calf and my inner thigh. She didn't say anything, so I presumed that she was satisfied. She then lifted up my genitals to check under my scrotum and around my taint. "Raise your arms," she commanded, and she inspected each armpit. "Alright," she said. "This is acceptable."

My heart lightened. Her approval had become very important to me.

"Now, masturbate," she commanded.

"What?" I asked. I was taken aback, but I recovered. "I'm sorry, Mistress. You mean right now?"

"Yes, of course now," she answered impatiently. "You wanted to masturbate, so go ahead and do it. If you want to fantasize about me, I'm right here. If you'd like, I'll even give you a little peek at my boobs" she added mockingly. I continued to hesitate, and she said, "It's up to you, I guess. But in five minutes, I'm going to lock you away, so if you want release, you'd better get it now."

"Yes, Mistress," I answered. I reached for my cock and began to squeeze it rhythmically in my fist. I hoped that she would leave to give me some privacy, but instead she stood right in front of me, staring down at my cock with a mixture of amusement, disgust, and impatience. I squeezed and rubbed and massaged, but I felt no stirring, no burgeoning erection.

I'd never before jerked off with anyone present, unless you count giving myself a few final strokes before squirting onto the face of a bound submissive who'd just had my cock in her mouth. I continued to work myself under Ellen's cold stare, but without result.

I was caught in a vicious circle: her impatience fed my nervousness, which fed my flaccidity, which further fed her impatience. I saw her begin to tap her thigh with her fingers, a sure sign that I was running out of time. "You're so pathetic," she said. "Do you need me to help you?"

"Please, Mistress, it's just very difficult with you watching me."

"Well, I've decided that you're no longer allowed to have an orgasm without my supervision," she answered. "So, you'd better get used to it. But just this once, I'll give you a few strokes to get you started."

She took me in her hand, and with some difficulty she succeeded in getting erect. Then she stepped back and continued to watch dispassionately as I continued on my own. In my nervousness, it took a lot longer than usual, but I finally managed to entice an unsatisfying load out of my semi-flaccid dick. Not exactly a ruined orgasm, but close. My cum splatted onto the floor of the shower cabinet, mixing with the remains of my pubic hair and the shaving cream that I had just used to remove it.

Ellen turned on the water. Without waiting for it to warm, she brought the shower head close to my groin and sprayed away the last dribble of semen from my cock-head. She lifted my scrotum and sprayed underneath to rinse the last bits of shaving cream from my crotch. My cock shrank from the cold, and my testicles rose up, so that my ball sack became a wrinkled walnut at the base of my shaft. Just when the water was beginning to warm up, she turned it off.

She took a hand-held mirror from the counter and held it below my waist, to give me a better view of my shaven cock and balls.

"There, you see?" she asked. "That's what a submissive's genitals should look like. You have a tiny, bald pee-pee, just like a little boy's. I think it suits you. Don't you agree?"

I swallowed my shame, and I answered, "Yes, Mistress."

She turned the water back on to rinse off the rest of my body. Then she led me, still dripping, in front of the large mirror over the sink. "Take a good look at yourself," she said, as she reached for my collar from the sink counter and put it around my neck. "This is who you are, now. Everything you were before is washed away. You are now my slave, and that's all you'll ever be. Do you understand me?"

It was the first time she'd ever called me her slave, and I understood that things were going to be a little different from now on.

"Yes, Mistress," I answered.

"I need you to say it," she said.

"I'm your slave, Mistress," I said. "That's all I'll ever be."

"Good boy. From now on, you will shave yourself every other day, and you will use cold water to rinse yourself off. That way, when you look at yourself in the mirror, you'll be all shrivelled up, which will help you embrace your servile nature. Isn't that a good idea?"

"Yes, Mistress," I replied.

She took my chastity cage from the counter. "Now, up to this point, I've not done nearly enough to help you control your urges," she said, as she stuffed my dick into the metal basket and locked it in place. "And I'm very sorry for that, because I think that's been a big part of your problem. So this time, I'm going to keep you locked up for a while. Do you understand?"

"How long, Mistress?" I asked. She raised her eyebrows, and I corrected myself. "I'm sorry, Mistress, I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, you shouldn't have" she agreed. "Especially since the answer should be obvious: for as long as I decide. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Mistress. I'm sorry" I repeated, chastened.

"Good boy. Now, clean up this mess," she ordered. "And be quick about it, unless you want to spend the night on the floor. It's been a long day, and I'm going to sleep. Don't you dare wake me up to ask permission to come to bed."

***********

A few minutes later, with the shower cabinet spotless and the bathroom floor dry, I presented my newly pre-pubescent body to my wife. "Please Mistress, may I share your bed tonight?" I asked, kneeling on the floor next to her with my head bowed, as she had trained me.

She looked at me without raising her head from the pillow. "I don't know," she answered. This shook me, as it was the first time that she'd not granted permission right away. "I've been thinking about it, and I think that maybe it's not such a good idea for us to sleep together. Now that I know the kind of filth that goes through your mind, I don't think I want you touching me."

"But, Mistress, I told you, it's not that way at all. You know that. You've taught me to respect your body, and I do. I admitted that I had fantasies when I masturbated, and I'm really sorry. But that's the only time I've ever done it. I promise. Please let me sleep next to you."

She sat up on the edge of the bed, so that my shoulders were between her knees. She took my chin between her fingers and raised my eyes to look into hers. "I don't believe you. Answer this, and don't you dare lie to me: When you touch me, do you want to fuck me?"

How can I answer that? If I say "Yes" then I'll be admitting that I've failed in my submission. But if I say "No" then I'll be saying that I no longer want her, which is worse.

"I do miss it sometimes, Mistress," I finally said. "But just as a way to show you how much I love you and how much I want you. It's not my fault you're so beautiful," I added, a little petulantly. I thought that my answer threaded the needle nicely, but I was wrong.

"So, you do want to fuck me," she said in the voice of the triumphant cross-examiner, which she'd no doubt perfected back in law school. "Now tell me this: Do you secretly hope that someday I'll let you fuck me?" I hesitated, and reached out and squeezed my nose between two of her knuckles like I was a third-grader. I winced, more from humiliation than pain. "Do you?" she repeated.