The Tickle Dungeons Pt. 05

THE COLLARING CEREMONY OF CAIS - DUNNISUROM

Cais knelt in the ante-chamber on the submissive side of the Sattvan cathedral. The wedding ordeal was upon him, and he felt a wild, awful tension in his cock as it strained at the cage the Dame Listily held him in.

He wore healed boots that hurt to walk in but came up over his knees to pad them for kneeling, a pink blouse and jacket that came down to his navel. His hands were behind his back, cuffs at the wrists binding them together.

As the alcove for the submissives, the room was done in pinks and floral patterns in the stained glass windows. Images of conquered queens kneeling before the cocks of soldiers, mouths open or tied over a tressel, their bare bottoms helplessly awaiting the men's pleasure. He heard motion at the door. OH! Was it starting! Now?

His eyes darted to where the chamber opened and he saw his mother--dressed in a fine robe enter and stand over him. He blushed badly--but summoned up a snarl.

"Mother," he nodded.

She took in his glare and her lips turned up in a faint smile. "I'm glad to see you've a bit of defiance, Cais. It'll make the ceremony all the sweeter."

She swept forward and knelt, taking a key to his masturbation cage and undoing it. She carefully pulled and extracted the anal plug from his bottom, wrapping it in a cloth for later.

He groaned as it came out with what felt like a loud pop.

"I suppose this is victory for you," he groaned. She wiped his anus gently.

"Not like it is with daughters," she said. "But, yes: I think seeing my proud accomplished son humbled will be a kind of victory--a sweet one." She kissed his temple. "You'll survive this as I survived my own union."

Guhh. He wanted to scream at her--but he knew better. Ugh. Well, he was going to have to get this over with. Whatever it was. He'd practiced the Union ceremony and it had been awful--the march up the aisle, pulled by his erect cock--the ceremony--and the dance floor spanking which, if the planner had done her work right, would drive him to orgasm over the Dame's lap. A dreadful utter humiliation in front of everyone.

But the collaring ceremony was still something of a mystery. The Dame and her maids of honor--his sisters--had practiced something--but he hadn't.

"The best advice I can give you is just to accept it," his mother said. "Accept that you will be degraded and humiliated through this and that your place is below your mate--this will cement it. Embrace it. Everyone here means you well."

He sniffled. She was lubricating one of the awful cock-root suppositories. It would leave him throbbingly needy--punishingly erect--for hours. It would make spending almost impossible until the end when they would use a stimulant artifact on his anus and the prostate inside.

He gasped as she pushed the lubricated object in--penetrating his anus. His cock sprang erect of its own accord and he let out a soft moan. He'd been ordered to moan--not grunt--to vocalize like a girl.

His mother rubbed his buttocks. "I think we're ready. I can stand you--but it'll hurt a great deal--or I can lead you to the door and you can shuffle on your knees."

Ugh--oh--! He could feel an unpleasant, powerful warmth starting to spread inside his region from the suppository. "Shuffle," he said through gritted teeth. She gave him a pat on his buttocks.

His cock jutting out and swinging slightly, he began to shuffle towards the door. His testicles felt like they were slightly swollen--his cock jerked as he approached the door, waddling ridiculously on his knees. Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!

The door pulled back. Marigold, his eldest sister, stood there in a pastel dress, looming over him. Oh!

"You look adorable," she told him.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. He could feel heat on his face. She looked lovely, put together--adult.

"My own ceremony was a nightmare," she informed him. "I have a servant spend me the memories of it at times."

He looked away. His blush had to be catastrophic.

"Put your forehead down and crawl with your head lowered," she instructed. "I'll help you."

"How?" He gasped. He could see the long hall done in fine wood with hung oil paintings along it. He lowered his head to the thick carpet. Pow! She smacked his buttocks with a small round paddle. He cried out in surprise.

"Encouragement!" she laughed. POW! POW! POP! He heard women's laughter from the far chamber. Oh! ow! UGH!!

He crawled, drawing one knee forward then the other. POW! POW! SMACK!

"I'm going!" he cried out.

"I know! I'm encouraging you! Also enjoying spanking you." SMACK!

ugh--oh--ow!

He picked up the pace. Whap! WHAP!

"MARIGOLD!" He cried out.

SMACK! "Crawl," she ordered. "I have some cream that can make the sting worse!"

Oh, ugh!! He didn't want that. He crawled forward, tears stinging his eyes. Ahead was the threshold. Pow! Smack! He could smell female oil in the chamber. He heard gales of laughter from the girls. Anger flared in him--SMACK! The pain of the paddle-stroke was a bright flash that suppressed his fury as he crawled into the room.

It was large and octagonal opening with three arches on the far side to the grand cathedral--empty now. The girls--Dame Listily, Virona, his second older sister Hargaret--all lounged on cushioned seats. They held glasses of bubbling wine.

"There he is! Oh! Cais, you're so cute!"

"Brother! You've never looked more fetching!"

"Those eyes--so beautiful with tears sparkling in them!"

His skin flushed with the embarrassment. He looked up at his bride--the Dame Knight.

She looked down on him--with favor, he saw. There might even be sympathy--but she was unquestioningly enjoying this--as was her right.

He crawled to her, coming between her knees. The pale pink dress she wore looked liquid in the lamp-light.

She stroked her fingers through his hair.

"This is our collaring ceremony," she said--quoting from the script. "You are to embrace your position as my beloved property--gift yourself--your mind, tongue, cock, scrotum, anus, and all else to me as your mistress, owner, and True Light."

He shuddered.

"I will discard your pride, for it does not serve you. I will grow humility in the garden of your tears, for it will improve you." Her fingers ran through his hair. He--oh--fuck--he stared up at her--now his vision did swim with tears--but--ohh.

"Yes, mistress," he breathed. She smiled at that--perhaps she could hear the sincerity. Still: A collaring ceremony was meant to be... unpleasant.

She stood, looming over him, a hand on his head, and the girls came to her and lifted the dress. It was designed to be easily pulled aside to reveal her bare sex and buttocks. "You will spend her," said Marigold, dropping beside him. "While you work, you will have a very, very uncomfortable itch--but you will not address it. Mistress comes first."

He whimpered. She lay back on the bench, spreading her legs. He saw Virona draw a cream from a tin and lay it across her moist, ready sex.

At the same time, Marigold placed a smooth sapphire stone between the cheeks of his buttocks. He gave a yelp as the stone tingled and a flash of warmth turned into a boiling horrible spot of itching directly over his anus and on the walls of his cleft.

His eyes widened. He had to scratch it--he HAD to. He moaned. His hands were clasped behind him--but the jacket was strong and they were affixed to the small of his back--he couldn't reach his cleft. He shifted and got a hard spank from the paddle.

"Spend Mistress," ordered Marigold.

Sobbing, he came forward and pushed his lips against her sex. The cream filled his mouth with the taste and smell a backside--the rear of a woman working all day in a hot sun--the scent of body-odor and sweat--the horrible tang of long hours of unwashed skin.

He gasped--and he felt the women's fingers push his head gently forward. Oh! He nearly gagged--but, in misery and desperation, he got licking and sucking.

The itch savaged him as he worked. His cock felt inflated--terribly erect--leaking and crying out for attention--for release. His anus--his anus felt to be glowing with the unbearable need-to-be-scratched. He clenched his buttocks and He got a swift, smarting smack from the paddle.

He HAD to get relief--but he wouldn't get it until mistress spent.

Desperately, he formed his mouth around her clit, the terrible taste and smell filling his nostrils and mouth. The girls laughed--but did they have any idea how bad it was?? He moaned as he licked and sucked. Dame Listily murmured her pleasure--but she didn't seem anywhere near spending.

He swirled his tongue in frantic circles. He clenched his rear again. POW! He cried out into her sex. POW! POW! Oh!!!

Tears were flowing freely now. How would he manage this--oh--ohh--it was awful! He shifted his buttocks to the left and right, hoping against hope for some relief--but the itch was implacable in its assault. Nothing he did brought any mercy.

He sobbed wretchedly, still working--lick-lick-lick-suck-suck--oh, please--mistress--oh please! He tried licking around his mistress' clit--only grazing it with his tongue. The taste was wretched. He could imagine the buttocks of a woman--his mouth between them. The girls around him laughed and patted him--and spanked.

He paused--gasping for breath--exhausted--desperate to be scratched.

"Please--" he begged. His mistress sat up. She took his hair--not roughly--but firmly, moving his head back to look up at her. His face was covered with her juice. He was sure his eyes looked wet--defeated.

"I have not cum," she said, gently. "But if you beg for your collar now, I will accept that instead of my spend."

He--oh--OH!! He stared in a moment of disbelief--and the itch bit hard between his cheeks and he couldn't bear it for another second--another tenth of that!

"Mistress! Please! My collar! Please! I'll--I'll take my collaring please!"

She drew it out slowly. A box lined with velvet inside--the collar black fabric with hints of gold. She placed it carefully about his throat and he swallowed. Oh--his anus--his anus burned to be scratched! It was all he could do to hold still while she clasped it around him.

The girls clapped and giggled as she set it firm. He sobbed.

"Okay--Mistress is done," said Marigold. "Virona--put the punishment tin on Hargaret and she's up next!"

"W-what?" He gasped--but she was already lifting her dress and laying back.

"You must service my maids of honor," said the Dame Knight. "Your anus can wait for relief until my maids have had their spends."

He moaned as the new sex was bared before him, and the hands of the women guided him back in.

THE ORDER ENCLAVE -- YAIS

Yais was naked and kneeling, legs apart, hands down between them, looking at the punishment apprentice. Her master was undergoing a collaring ceremony, and she'd been remanded to the care of the same apprentice she'd been stuck with at the key ceremony. Except now she was modified too--sporting actual cat-ears and a long cat's tail.

"Looks like you got the pet-treatment too," Yais said.

"You know being in my care means I can punish you," the apprentice--Eva snapped.

They were in one of the many spacious side rooms off the main cathedral and, as with most rooms in the order enclave--but especially the Sattvan cathedral, there were plentiful punishment supplies well at hand.

Yais humphed and rolled onto her back, spreading her legs and drawing them up--a show of submission.

"I just think it looks cute," Yais said.

Eva walked forwards and sat, somewhat heavily, between Yais' open legs.

"Don't close those," Eva ordered.

Yais rolled her eyes--careful not to let Eva see it. Eva put her hand on Yais' inner thigh and rubbed softly.

"It's punishment modification," Eva said, somewhat sourly. "Looking 'cute' is intentional."

Yais watched the apprentice glance around, listening intently, and then she slid out of her robe. She pulled down her panties. "You're the submissive," Eva said. "I'm dominant here."

"Yes, mistress," Yais said.

"Mmmm--good. Make me spend," Eva said, laying her body over Yais'. Yais arched her back, her tongue entering Eva's folds, licking up along the wet cleft to the girl's clitoris. Above her face she could sense Eva's buttocks and the tail, lashing. She licked.

"Mmm--" Eva shifted slightly. She was perched over Yais' sex and she gave it a soft slap. She was rewarded with a little exhalation against her own sex from Yais' mouth. Eva grinned. Spank. Spank. Spank! After her first orgasm, maybe she'd put the girl over her lap and spank her properly! Slap. Slap. Smack. Another noise of complaint! Eva rewarded the gasp with a soft kiss to Yais' clit.

Her tail lashed. Her ears were stiff with arousal.

Ohh--she was going to enjoy this!

THE UNION CEREMONY -- CAIS

Cais felt worn out and his ordeal had barely begun. He knelt in the rear of the main chamber--rows of pews filled with people--some of which he knew, many he did not. He was naked from mid-thigh to belly button and his cock was fearsomely erect. He wore a bit-gag, like a horse's and his mistress' collar. He squirmed in discomfort where the itching stone had touched his anus.

His mistress--the Dame Knight--ran her fingers through his hair. "You will walk--waddle--as best you can," she told him. "When you cannot, you may crawl--but there will be punishment." He could hear the soft smile in her voice.

Ohhh! He sniffled and nodded. "Yes, mistress," he grunted around the gag. As the music swelled, he struggled to his feet. Oh! Owww! The small nubs in the bottoms of the shoes dug into the soles of his feet and he gasped. Then his mistress' fingers reached out and took his cock.

Ohhh--

He leaked pre-cum and he could feel her touch along his shaft. Ohh--Ohh! He could feel his control slip. The pad of her pointer finger under the hood of his cock, rubbing--He would come! Except he couldn't. The awful cock-root suppository made that nearly impossible. A musical note and she stepped forward.

He gasped and struggled to match her. Ow! Ow! Oh!! His poor feet! The guests looking at her hand leading him by his erection. Blush boiled in his checks. Another note: Oww! Ohh! And he stepped. She rewarded him by drawing her fingers along the vein under his erection. He panted. The altar looked so distant! Oh--owww. Another step. They could see the tears glistening on his cheeks--the precum beading and dripping from his penis.

Ohhh--Step. Oww! Ohhh! Step--sob! Oww! Oh!! He could see the glow in the faces of the ladies as he passed. Their amusement and fascination at seeing a boy--a boy from one of the great houses--so humbled--so disgraced! Oh!! The men watching his fall from privilege--down to property of his mistress. His buttocks clenched.

Ow!! She led him, her fingers ran along the underside of his cock. His scrotum ached and felt swollen. His feet! Oww! Oh--he tottered some, and she held him. Step. Oh!! He flexed his cock in her grip and heard a slight laugh from her. Sob! Oh--tears flowed freely.

A couple more steps and his feet could no longer bear it. He dropped to his knees and heard the murmur from the crowd. The awful humiliation arranger had prepared for this and he defeatedly spread his knees. Dame Listily had the crop.

She tapped it gently to his anus and POW! He felt the snap of a full blow. He cried out into the bit and scrambled forward.

She stepped and tapped him again. NO!! He howled--his anus--the itch had gone to mere discomfort, but now it exploded in a snap of pain! He crawled desperately at each note. Now she simply rubbed the crop along his anal cleft, not triggering it and he sobbed.

Tap! Against his scrotum. POW! He shrieked. He was sobbing now, in front of everyone, as he crawled to the altar.

She knelt and took him, lifting him easily and laying him on his back, legs apart, cock still jutting up.

"Dame Listily," spoke the order proctor, "You now take ownership of this young man as the dominant guide in his life and heart. Is this a responsibility you undertake with joy?"

"I do," she purred. Her fingers played over his cock and balls, touching, stroking, teasing.

"You will provide strict discipline and guidance for this young man--you will humble him when he is proud and comfort him when he is beyond his endurance. You will care for him at all times--but you will be a stern mistress as he so needs. Is this a responsibility you undertake with full knowledge?"

She gave his erect cock a slap. "I do," she purred.

"This young man's sex is hereby removed from his domain and submitted to you. You will satisfy it rarely--and punish it often--he will understand that it is not for his pleasure but only for yours. Is this a possession you undertake with discipline and expertise?"

"It is," she smacked him again.

The box was presented: a finely made thing of wood inlaid with pearl.

She took it and opened it. Inside was a bottom plug of extreme size. He moaned when he saw it. She drew it out and he could hear the reaction of the crowd--approval--surprise. He did his best to prepare himself for it and when the thing was moved between his buttocks, he gave a cry of fear.

Then OHH! She pushed, and he felt the spreading--the invasion--the violation and he cried out as loud as he could into the gag. It hurt! OH!! He stretched and cried hard as it seated. Ow! Ow! Ohhh! He felt terribly full--the sensations of needing to move his bottom were intense. He pushed at it and was punished with a flare of an intolerable itching along his cleft. It punished anything but "holding it." Ohh--He squirmed on the altar.

His cock, treasonously erect bobbed in front of everyone. The man was speaking again--but he couldn't make out the words--his mistress' hand wrapped his cock and rubbed it before all the onlookers, masturbating him--but he couldn't--he couldn't cum. He cried out in terrible frustration.

At long last she had gathered him again--he could hear the movement of the crowd.

On the presentation floor, he lay over her lap, his cock against the satin of her long gown. He was aware of the line of women coming forward to present their well-wishes for the union and to gift Dame Listily with implements of discipline which she would use on him before the crowd.

A woman rubbed his buttock. "This is a slapper of fine Tum-Leather," she said, presenting a long box to Dame Listily. "It leaves a faint rash in addition to the stripes. You'll have the 'chore' of putting a salve or cream on after the punishment. It's nicely intimate."

"Thank you," said the Dame knight.

Pow! He felt the crack of the leather against his buttocks and jerked slightly. It felt wet somehow and where it had kissed his buttocks he felt a faint echo of discomfort. The Dame Knight's fingers stroked along the mark. His body quivered.

"A poison-wood paddle with his name engraved," said another woman. "It'll cause severe swelling. You needn't even smack him with it--rubbing it along his perineum will provide discipline. Or perhaps his scrotum!" The ladies laughed.

Smack! Pow! She used it on the crest of his buttocks and he cried out. He could feel the horrible sting of the wood and an oval of heat on each buttock. Pressure rising from inside. He sobbed helplessly over her lap. Oh! How did women bear this as an expected ritual!? How had his own mother survived??

"Daughter," he heard the woman's voice--his mother was here--now. Fuck.

A familiar hand touched his bottom. "You may enjoy this. I had it made specially--and I'd presented similar to my married daughter's husbands--which I've gotten voluminous complaints about at family gatherings!"

Laughter. A box was opened.

The Dame Knight: "Oh! So--oh! A small one!"

Mother: "And rare. Yes. Enjoy it."

He raised his head--damp with sweat and tears. He saw his mother beaming down at him. Their eyes met--his wide and wet, her's warm and calculated. She had plenty of sympathy, yes--but it was clear she expected him to suffer all of this badly--the benefit of it would be far on the other side.