To Her Taste Pt. 01

"Good boy," she said, triggering a twinge in my pride, but at I just took a breath, hoping it would all be over soon. I looked up at the overhead lights as she walked around the table, restraining my wrists and ankles in leather belts. Only then did I feel just how compromised I was, strapped down naked under a light, and Katerina strapped me in tight.

"Just relax. I need to prepare you." I was just looking up, strapped down on my back it was a strenuous to lift my head to look around for anything more than a brief period, so I couldn't really tell what she was doing. But I heard her giggling while probably looking at my crotch, then I felt her spread some cold gel all over my groin and dick.

"Uh, w-what are you doing?"

"I need to shave you, just relax."

I tried to take her advice and took a deep breath and closed my eyes. After she spread the gel around my groin, then I felt her take a razor blade and scrape it away with any hair, and I really hoped she had a steady hand. Luckily, she did, and she did quite a good job quite fast.

I heard her take off her gloves. "Okay, now I will test your sensitivity."

"What?" I asked. Testing sensitivity sounded quite invasive.

I heard her giggle. Now I was actually mad. That bitch was giggling at me while she got to strap me down and touch me however, she pleased. I took another deep breath, then I felt her pour another cold substance on my cock and balls, then she made sure to rub it all over. I couldn't help but flinch; I was quite the virgin and had only ever gotten a handjob from one woman before, so I was not at all used to the sensations.

"Relax, I won't hurt you." She reassured me, resting one of her hands on my lower abdomen as if to comfort me, but it came off as more of a grope. Then with her other hand she grabbed my cock.

I absolutely shivered, and couldn't help but flinch and squirm, and pull and tug against the restraints, and to my horror she started to just absolutely guffaw at me. I felt my blood pressure increase.

"Are you enjoying this?" I asked indignantly, lifting my head to give her a mad look.

"Oh, yes. I love my job, I wanted to be a nurse since I was a little girl." I looked into her beautiful eyes and saw that gleeful, bubbly, yet covetous glare, but now slightly different, a little more... arrogant? She continued to stroke me, now looking at me. I could tell she was smiling.

"What are you doing exactly?" I flinched and squirmed again as she continued to stroke me with her small, soft hands.

"I told you, I'm testing your sensitivity. Please relax." Her stroking continued, and my cock had started to grow hard in her hand. Fuck, this actually felt good, and I could feel my heartbeat increase. Despite the pleasant sensation, I felt thoroughly humiliated as this young nurse stared down at my pale, hairy, flabby body that undulated and twitched as she stroked my average dick.

This girl had technique. She stroked up and down with a soft grip on my well-lubricated dick, twisting her wrist as she did so. Once I was fully hard, which didn't take long at all, it felt amazing, and I knew I would cum soon. However, once I would get close she would stop, and I could hear her writing something down on some clipboard. I tried to just close my eyes and think about something else, but I couldn't help but imagine her pretty hands as I felt each stroke and my dick twitched dramatically in her grip, evoking another round of giggles from Katerina.

Despite my arousal, I could taste anger as she further prodded my ego by laughing at my reactions as she practically molested me. "Oh, fuck off!" I couldn't help but yell.

She stopped and looked at me. For once the friendliness in her eyes, real or illusory, dissipated, and in its place was a mixture of shocked offense and anger.

"Oh, Marcus, what's wrong? You were being such a good boy...." Her stroking slowed and her grip became firmer.

"You're laughing at me!"

"You boys are so sensitive. I'm just having a little fun, I thought you liked it?" She very slowly brought her fingers down on my cock in a tight ring, all the way down to the base. It felt amazing, and, to my humiliation my legs twitched, toes curled, and I let out a very audible high moan. Katerina started laughing again.

At this point I wondered if there were any capillaries in my face left that hadn't been thoroughly engorged with blushing blood. "I-I -" I tried to respond, but at that moment she brought her soft palms to either side of my dick, giving it a soft, slippery rubbing.

"Fuck!" I involuntarily thrusted upward towards her hands. Now she really couldn't stop laughing. She continued to stroke my cock with one hand while she tried to combat her laughter, and I realized my protests were only making things worse, so I just shut my mouth.

"Oh yeah, you like it." She cooed and teased. I looked at her and could tell she had been laughing so hard that she had cried and ruined her makeup. I was still angry, but now it was poisoned from a prideful indignation to a bitter frustration, and I bit my tongue. I just closed my eyes and tried to stoically get through my strange, reluctant handjob.

She continued with her "work," and I couldn't help but feel good. I couldn't help but moan and twitch, trying to think of one of my crushes back in America. I was getting very close, then I felt her slow, then stop.

I instinctively thrust my hips when she stopped, evoking more giggles. She resumed again, and I was about to near, then she stopped again. I groaned. This bitch was obviously playing with me. She did this a couple of more times, and I was become so frustrated. She got me right on the edge, something I felt many times before jerking off, but this time it was different. This time I was restrained and it was done by a woman, which made it feel so much better.

"Say 'please,'" Katerina said. She was slowly pulling upward on my dick with one of her hands, making sure to touch the most sensitive parts so slowly, before she pulled past the head, and let go again. I wanted to scream at her, and so I opened my mouth to do so.

"Please!" I croaked. Wait a minute, that's not what I wanted to say. It was then I realized just how tired I was, voluntarily and involuntarily pulling against the restraints as she teased me. I was sweaty, my mouth was dry from heavy breathing, my limbs a little exhausted, and I realized I wanted nothing more than to cum, drink a bottle of water, and then fall asleep. Katerina looked down at me, and I looked back with needy eyes. I could tell she was feeling very smug.

Then her hands got back to work. Both of them. She began her amazing technique again, but faster, and faster, and in no time I was about to come. I was so close, I felt like a single brush of a feather would send me over the edge. I was quaking, mouth open, face sweaty. Then she stopped again. I groaned once more, and she laughed again.

"Be patient." She walked away for a moment over to a shelf, and brought back some sort of plastic container, then started stroking again with one hand, and I shot my load. I gasped and flexed and tensed, and Katerina even stopped laughing. I squirted and saw stars, I didn't want it to end, but of course the male orgasm is quite a short thing, and a few seconds later I was breathing hard. I looked up and saw Katerina looking down at me, looking a little flushed.

She giggled again, but this time it was quieter, and more... sensuous? She still looked smug, now holding a vial of white life. I felt the urge to curl up, but my limbs were still restrained and I felt a shiver of vulnerability roll through me on this medical bed, on her eyes.

"Dobra. Dat was the last sample, we are almost finished, okaay?"

I sighed. "What's next, my measurements?"

"Oh! I forgot! I must before you get soft." She grabbed my cock and a measuring tape, and I resigned myself to my cock measuring. She recorded my length, circumference, and then also measured my balls. I couldn't help but seethe a little.

She left me for a moment to retrieve something, and came back with a metal box she handled with a towel. She set it down, opened it and pulled out a metal contraption and showed it to me.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked gleefully. Unfortunately, I did. She was holding a male chastity cage.

"Uhh... no" my voice cracked. She giggled again, and I blushed again.

"Well, you will know now. There are only two people with keys: me, and Madame Kavalski, okay? Now, please relax."

I did the opposite. I tried one strong tug, then another spasm of struggling, but to no avail against the leather bands. She giggled.

She lowered the metal cage onto my dick, and I realized why she was handling it with a towel. That thing was freezing! They must have literally been keeping it in the freezer, and I couldn't help but shiver and squirm as the icy stainless steel was lowered onto my freshly-shaven member.

"Vydatna. Now we are finished," she walked around the table, unrestraining me. I sat up, blood rushing from my head.

"When am I going to get let out?" is all I could think to ask as I stared down at my caged member, numb from the cold metal.

"Zat is up for Madame Kavalski to decide."

I didn't say much else after that, feeling a bit weird about the whole experience. They let me go, I got dressed, and brought me back to the lobby where a goon was waiting for me.

"I'll see you next veek!" Katerina said to me, her eyes bright. What was that about? They weren't seriously going to take blood samples every week, right?

I stood there in that dimly lit "lobby" for a few minutes. The room wasn't so large, and the whole place looks liked it had once been an office complex. Where I was standing, behind me was the door to the lobby, to the right and left were walls with small windows showing a medium-sized city in the morning. There was furniture around, mostly consisting of old, dusty couches and chairs, and even some empty pots for plants. The lighting it self was so dim; the only bright light came from by the clinic door; I could barely read a book in this light. After a few minutes of looking around the room and trying to ignore the imposing goon, watching me with a baton at his side, I heard the sound of Ramina's heels clicking closer, and soon she was before me.

"How was it?" she asked with a knowing smile.

A part of me was angry and wanted to shout at her, but I bit my tongue, blushed, and lowered my gaze. She just stared at me for a moment I guess, before snapping.

"Come!" she turned and started walking. I followed, unprompted by the following goon, and soon we were in the elevator again.

"Where are we off to now?" I asked.

"Your Russian lesson."

"My what?"

"You must learn Russian."

"Okay..." I said, still trying to avoid looking at her stern, smug gaze. We went through the usual series of poorly lit hallways surrounded by totally dark corridors and office rooms, until we arrived at one room numbered 601. Inside there was what looked like a small classroom, though if I'm the only "student" I don't understand why there were multiple desks. However, I was more focused on the woman who was waiting inside, sitting on a caricature of a teacher's desk. She looked to be in her early 40s or late 30s, wearing shoulder-length straight black hair, a small blazer, a tight, white blouse, a long grey pencil skirt, short, black heels, and a set of wide, rectangular spectacles.

The women greeted each other as though I weren't even there, then both of their gazes set on me. The older woman smirked.

"He is cute. Your taste never fails to amaze me." the older woman said. I was cornered and small by the two tall women in the small room, Ramina's hands firmly grasping my arm and shoulder. I couldn't really think of a response, I just blushed and lowered my gaze, which allowed me to notice that my new "teacher" was not wearing a bra. I couldn't help but freeze and stare for a delicious moment, but given that they were just staring at me I was sure that they noticed that I noticed, and I just blushed harder and lowered my gaze to the floor.

Whilst I was fidgeting uncomfortably, Ramina was delighted by the compliment, and responded warmly in Russian, before again facing me.

"This is Madame Agafonov. She will teach you, and I autorized her with corporal punishment." Ramina said to me as I felt one of her hands move from my shoulder to my right buttock. I blushed harder, trying to comprehend what that meant exactly, and couldn't help but look back up to see Madame Agafonov staring right at me, smirking with a hungry look in her eyes.

"Tak, I will collect you in 80 minutes. Be a good boy. Or else." Ramina said before abruptly leaving the two of us. I couldn't help but just stand there for a moment, quite literally standing in the shadow of this woman blocking the only light in the back as she eyed me up and down.

"You talk, yes?"

Normally people complained I never shut up. I remembered that thing about first impressions mattering most, and I realized I looked like a total bitch this whole time.

I cleared my throat, "Uh, yes."

"Please, take a seat." She gestured towards the three rows of long desks.

She walked back to her desk, and I took one of the student desks at the front. I looked forward. Her desk was in one of the corners, at the opposite side was a window with what looked like real daylight coming through, and in the center was a large blackboard. It really did look like a miniature classroom, only about 9 meters long, until I looked up. Above the board mounted on the wall was a wooden frame containing two wooden paddles, one large and one small, a small leather paddle, two riding crops, a wooden cane, and bundle of rope. On the ceiling there were three metal rings, which I was degenerate enough to realize were suspension hardpoints. Oh, fuck.

She ordered some papers and looked like she read them. Then stood, walked to the window and looked outside it, then checked a silvered pocket watch she kept in one of her blazer pockets. I noticed there was no other clock in the room. She stared at it for a few moments longer then closed it and faced me.

"Tak, Marcus, I am excited to meet you. It is ze first day of school, so why don't we introduce ourselves a little, yeah? I am Valentina Agafonov, but you will call me 'Madame Agafonov.'" She smiled a wide, toothy smile and started to walk towards me until she was in front of my desk, looking down at me.

"Tell me, I know you are from Amerika, but where?" I could once again feel her eclipsing the light, casting a shadow on me.

"Uhh, California..."

"Oh, what city?"

"San Francisco." Actually, I was from Sausalito, but close enough.

She was studying me with hungry eyes, looking me up and down, listening closely to my responses. My "introduction" was more about her interrogating me about my age, education, my travels, and to my relief she reacted positively to my answers, even seeming interested in my art history background and basic Slovakian. She then explained that she was from Vladivostok and had a Ph. D in philology, which I actually found quite impressive. I found her quite... impressive in general; I had an issue finding a place to settle my eyes. Her gaze intimidated me, and looking up at her pretty face I knew she'd be able to read me. Below that were her wonderful B cups with nipples poking through her tight blouse, which I know she caught me glancing at more than once, but I tried not to stare. Then in front of me was her flat belly and crotch before just being behind my desk. She seemed very amused by me.

My nerves started to soothe from her calm demeanor, but I was far from comfortable under her prying. After about half an hour of that and a little small talk, I asked for some water, and she strutted back to her desk and I couldn't help but enjoy the sight of her stockinged legs and the outline of her ass against her tight skirt as she bent over. From her motions she must have had a minifridge behind her desk, and she brought back a bottle of water, as well as a backpack that she had stored there as well. She set it all on the desk.

"Your supplies." she said.

"Thanks," I said, opening the backpack to reveal a notebook, some spare paper, pencils, pens, erasers, and an English-Russian dictionary. Man, I just graduated and was so ready to be done with studying things.

"From now on it is 'Spasibo, Madame Agafonov." she said sternly, shaking her previously warm demeanor. I looked up at her and her pretty, smiling face had hardened to sandstone. Her glare startled me, and looking up at her those hanging paddles were just in the corner of my eye.

"Da, Madame Agafonov." I shuttered.

Her lips, brightened by sharp, sanguine lipstick, curled ever-so-slightly.

From there the lesson started, and I opened my notebook. She began her lecture, writing with chalk on the blackboard and pointing around with a hardwood meter-stick. I listed, scrawling down whatever I understood. I always did want to learn Russian, might as well take the most out of a shitty situation, right? Besides, I didn't like the look of those paddles.

She seemed satisfied by my attention, and towards the end strutted towards me again. I managed to muster up the ability to look into her cold, blue marbles. I could tell she was planning a lot, and it made me want to desperately crawl away. She took a few steps towards me, crossing her legs, twisting her torso and accentuating her hips. I couldn't help but feel something in my cage; I did like MILFs.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked.

"Uh, no." I lied.

"No? Not one?"

"Uh--" I came up with a few questions about words I didn't pick up on.

She answered me and inched closer. Soon she was looking right down at me again. I didn't even notice her undo one of her top buttons, and she leaned forward. I could smell her, and she smelled delightfully of green tea. That, and I could easily see her cleavage, which I know she knew I noticed, but just tried to focus on her face as she leaned closer.

"Uh---"

"Marcus, I have a question for you," she said, low. My spine, and cock, tingled.

"Ye-yes?"

"Have you ever eaten pussy?"

I practically fucking choked when she said that. What the fuck? I really hoped she was teasing. I thought she was hot and all, but I was not in the business of going down on women I just met.

"Uh, -" I hesitated suspiciously, deciding not to lie. "Yes." I averted my eyes and rubbed the back of my neck.

"How many times?"

I mustered some courage and looked back at her. She looked like she wanted to eat me, but in a lusty way, with one finger toying with her bottom lip.

"That's k-kind of personal." My voice wavered, but I needed to put up some kind of resistance.

Once I said that her expression went from... attracted, to something much more pissy. She stood up, back straight and rested her meter stick on my desk. To my shame, I felt instinctual dread seeing her do this, and though I was sitting I could still feel my knees go weak.

"You will answer me."

That pissed me off. Like most self-respecting people, I didn't feel this stranger was entitled to knowing about my sexual history. I opened my mouth to say something smart, but at the last second I glanced at again at those horrible implements on her wall. I was particularly disconcerted by the cane.

I glanced back at her, my eyes initially resting on that teasing cleavage before bringing my eyes back up to hers. It was only then I realized how hot my face felt and how sweaty my palms were. I was quite out of my element, and what was worse was it was obvious. However, I still needed to prove I wasn't a pushover.

"T-two-" I humiliatingly squeaked. Oh god, I didn't mean for it to sound like that. I felt my face heat up even more. I saw her stern lips bend and open into a delighted smile, and her gaze felt exponentially more mocking and oppressive.