The Horn of a Dilemma - Alexith

******** The Horn of a Dilemma - Alexith Destiny ********

Being a colossal nerd and a child of the 80s, I was right in to that movie “Back to the Future”. There were a few scenes where someone from the future would zap back in time to warn an earlier version of themselves to steer clear of a looming, life-altering catastrophe of unspeakable proportions. Last night, just before midnight, i could really have used a 2 hour older me to zap into existence right next to me (in my imagination future me is wearing some kind of quasi futuristic clothing even though that makes no sense) and scream into my ear “don’t be a bloody idiot! Stop! Change course NOW! No good can come of this!” But you know what, in the head space I was in, I would have told future me to bugger off. And anyway, what male wants to be confronted with the sight of themselves in silver lycra when they’re on the brink of cumming.

I made a really really...REALLY... stupid decision last night. Well more accurately, my cock did. Now I have a red circle on my calendar on the 29th of November 2010; a whole month. Let me rephrase that: a whole fffffffUCKing month! I woke up this morning in disbelief that I allowed this to happen. How did I get to this point, of gazing longingly at a red circle in my calendar, which just seems like a distant almost invisible dot on the horizon of possibility. How did i get here?

Well it all began last night. All day i had been consumed with restless aching desire, and last night, a thrill of excitement washed over me as Mistress, in a smooth, liquid possessive voice that almost breaks me with its potency, commanded me to slide on my bra and panties, and wait for Her on my knees as she showered and relaxed a while. Heart pounding, butterflies in my stomach, i did just as i was told and prepared myself for Her. The lace teasing over my ass i found my knees, looking down at the unfamiliar lingerie caressing against my skin. Time slowed as i felt my body responding more and more to the humiliating, teasing feeling of the feminine frills against my skin. My caged, owned cock throbbed inside the metal bars of the chastity cage. It looked so futile, and pathetically optimistic as it expanded and contracted over and over. I watched helplessly, knowing that these involuntary attempts at engorgement could only bring me resistance and frustration. I sighed. I shivered. I watched. I waited.

The cage was so hard and unyielding and its rigid confines contrasted painfully but deliciously with that soft whispering touch of lace. I ached for my Mistress to return and hopefully uncage me. Perhaps I would even be allowed to touch. Oh god i wanted to touch so badly; maybe even to stroke. Maybe .. oh god maybe i’d even finally be allowed to explode in bliss and completion, but i drew back from those thoughts. The desperation and anticipation was just too sharp. Acceptance. I needed to find acceptance.

“The choice is not mine. The choice is NOT mine.” I whispered these words to myself like a mantra as my personal demons of frustration, powerlessness and desire played tag team wrestling in my psyche.

I waited, exquisitely frustrated, craving Her arrival to the point that i felt my physical longing for Her almost palpably, like a thick dark blanket wrapped around me, heating me, confining me, keeping me contained in a world of want. I was poised on the edge of a pleasure that is no longer mine to take but only Mistresses’ to give. Surrender closing in on me, i closed my eyes, hung my head and waited trapped in the prison of my own frustration.

I had already taken a large step toward the huge decision i would make, later that night.

In the space of a hearbeat Mistress was there, and her voice hypnotised and electrified me. I felt both calm and impossibly out of control as She strode into the centre of my being, seized hold of the secret levers and buttons which guide my soul, and just TOOK what was hers. There was no time for me to reflect, bargain, process or falter. It was as though secret strings attached to every part of me had been taken and now i danced, like a horny Pinocchio, to Her puppeteering whim.

I uncaged for Her and then it was time for the nipple clamps. I dread these clamps. I truly dread them. They are cold hellish metal things, and even simply touching them as I lay them out for a session fills me with unease. But i did as i was told and my breath came ragged and fast as the nasty pinchy little bastards bit into the tender flesh of my nipples, squeezing them almost flat. Sometimes the clamps are bearable after a few minutes. Other times it is a grim struggle that seems to last forever as the agony they impose on my sensitive nerve endings blasts my mind, like white light. This time, it was very hard. I swore a steady stream of profanities under my breath and Mistress softly laughed. The sound of that owning laugh was beautiful, and yet ominous; like rolling thunder that presages a storm. Sharp, needling, coursing PAIN ripped through my body from my nipples right down to my lower stomach. FUCK. It. Hurt. I don’t remember perfectly but i think i swore for quite some time before i remembered that it might be a good idea to breathe.

My raging erection had vanished as pain became my biggest priority, but finally my tortured nerve endings accepted that the feeling would not be going away any time soon. My breathing slowly changed from ragged whimpering gasps to a slower more controlled intake, and finally that strange moment of convergence happened when the desire to scream and cry in frustration and pain slammed headlong into my surging desire. I had that strange trance-like feeling as pain and arousal collided and became one hot, potent, raging ball of energy deep, deep within me.

I couldn’t move. Every tiny movement of my limbs sent fresh stabs of pain through my whole body, and each stab of pain turned up the dial on my frustrated arousal. I felt like a tiny insect writhing under a magnifying glass as the heat of Mistresses’ intensity, will and dominance burnt every last remnant of my self possession to cinders, and desolation. I was Hers. I was ready to be fucked, not just in body but in heart, soul and mind too. No part of me was left unfuckable. Nothing was set apart, and every corner of my past, present and future lay prone and open for Mistress to plunder, penetrate... and FUCK.

I begged as the large bulbous plug circled my fuckhole. I begged like I meant it. I cried for Mistress to penetrate me and complete my purpose as Her fucking slut toy. I whimpered hotly as Her conquering hard probing cock POSSESSED me...drilling into me and splitting me in two. I opened up for Mistress as Her hard rigid force slid into and out of me over and over, the pain in my nipples and arse transformed into total surrender, and the complete knowledge that from my balls to my soul I was a slut, to be taken, drilled, moulded and possessed by Her.. by my Mistress... my Goddess, my conqueror, my plunderer.

“Please fuck me... oh god please Mistress fuck me.. i want Your cock.. i need it.. please fuckkk me Goddess” i whispered sluttily between my gasps as i felt the rigid demanding pounding of Her cock deep inside my flesh and soul.

I closed my eyes, hung my head and knew what i was; a wanton, owned slut. I had taken another large step toward the momentous decision i would soon make.

Then, thank God, it was time for me to stroke. Fifty quick sharp strokes Mistress allowed me and before i had reached ten of these jolts of pleasure my body was drenched with sweat and i was shaking. Each stroke had slammed me hard up against the edge of cumming violently all over the floor in front of me and i knew this was unthinkable... so i desperately clawed and pulled myself back from the cliff’s edge, and by the time i all too quickly hit 50, a different kind of pain swept through me. It was a pain of total frustration. Ravaged and owned, I fought the pain of being so close and yet so far to the pleasure i craved like a hit of sex heroin. Sobs came from my throat and i didn’t even recognise them as my own. Just the tiniest extra touch and i could reach that crescendo of elysium of forgetting and completion, but it wasn’t to be. It dangled just out of reach as i knelt at Mistresses feet, and i cried for Her, small plaintive begging sobs as slowly she had me try to find enough calm and control to proceed.

Finally i was ready to begin again and Mistress allowed me fifty more strokes, but these had to be slow. And i mean Slowwwwww. Every moment I sped up Mistress had me slow down more, to the point that each stroke i craved simply suspended me in desperate anticipation, with no chance to move any closer or further away from that agony of want and need. The pain in my body was forgotten now as my frustration reached a level I haven’t ever experienced before.

I wanted. I wanted. i wanted. I couldn’t have. In that moment this was the meaning of my existence. Yet again, I had taken another large step toward that fateful decision.

By now, i was in another place. Pain, humiliation and desperation, oh my! I was on the dark side of the moon and no reference point or home existed for me but my Mistresses powerful, owning indomitable will.

It all led to the point of a decision. At some point just before midnight, i found myself completely ass-fucked on the horn of a horrible dilemma. Mistress calmly, but with potent authority in her voice gave me a simple, agonising choice. She told me i could either cum now, and wait for a whole month before another chance presented itself, or i could choose not to cum now, and no such lengthy period of abstinence would apply. These were the choices Mistress gave me, in that sweet, deep, dark, powerful... god.. amazing voice of Hers.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I started with every intention of being sensible and saying “no” to cumming last night. In fact I opened my mouth to say “no”... but ... ummm...i was a little bit shocked when “yes” came out.

Then i baulked... “oh Mistress, please let me think... just give me a second to think about this i beg you!” i gasped as my hard rigid, red cock looked up at me as if to say “what the hell are you waiting for!”

I tried to bargain. I tried to find a loophole. Awash in arousal and pain and sluttish wantonness I quickly tried to assemble some kind of internal “pros” and “cons” list. For a moment the absurd image flashed up in my mind of me sitting at a bit of paper with two colums labelled “cum” and “not cum” doing a thorough SWOT analysis, but by the time that had flashed into and out of my tortured consciousness I had ten seconds to give my final decision.

10..9...8...7

“Please, just give me a moment Mistress.”

6...5...4

“Oh god cant there be another way?”

3...2....1...

“Yes...” i whispered.

I think even Mistress might have been shocked at the sheer stupidity that one of her boys was capable of at that point.

“You choose a month of waiting and deprivation so that you can cum now?” Her magical voice again asked.

“Yes”.. i whispered again.

I wanted it too much. I know at some point.. probably very soon.. i will want it just as much, but in that moment i made the active conscious decision to fuck “future me” over so that i could have that moment of blissful release i had been so hurt, fucked and humiliated for. I took it, and future me, i decided, could look after himself. I ask every sub sitting in this room listening to this confession, would you have done the same? I’d be very interested to find out.

I came. Oh god i came hard... Perhaps this is strange, but knowing how stupid i was being, and how little regard i was having for what i knew i would be feeling tomorrow, made that moment of sexual release one of the most intense experiences of my life. Ultimately, knowing that what i was doing was destructive and that I was fucking over my future self drove me crazy. It was as though I was looking at my decision and screaming “nooooo” and “yesssss” at the same time equally loudly and desperately. Lost in that eternity, as if from a great distance i heard my Mistress speak.

“You better make sure You enjoy this. It’s the last for a LONG time”. Mistresses’ words ripped into my soul

I exploded that moment, knowing my hopelessness and that my fate.... was.... sealed.

I admit, i have tried bargaining with Mistress a few times since that night. I tried to convince Mistress that i had been of unsound mind and unfit to make such an important decision. I pleaded that it wasn’t fair that i should have to live with the consequences given that state i was in. Mistress calmly advised that i should think of Her as being like the Indonesian justice system. No right of appeal, guilty until proven innocent, with no such thing as time off for good behaviour. Even as i reluctantly slipped myself back into that cold hard cage, snapping the padlock into place, i pleaded with Mistress:

“But Mistress, it was like .... a... a hostage situation! It was like a gun ... of horniness ... was being held to my head!” was one attempt.

Shockingly, all such attempts have failed. My sentence stands.

In a last ditch effort i suggested to Mistress that She might let her three boys set up an emissions trading scheme (not unlike a carbon emissions trading scheme only in this case the emissions aren’t carbon). My hope is that perhaps i can try to bargain with Dave or Robb to “give me one of theirs” so to speak. Mistress wasn’t immediately dismissive of this idea, but She did point out that Robb or Dave might have other ideas! I’ll have to try to catch one of them after they’ve had a few drinks and see if i can enter into negotiations.

So, that is the story of how i got here. i am the boy who chose a month of deprivation and frustration for ten second’s blissful release. I’m going to be in chastity 28 days. 672 hours. 40320 minutes. I would calculate it to minutes but the number will have so many digits i will probably end up gibbering in a foetal position.

But yknow what? I think that decision was as inevitable as it was stupid. Maybe this natural idiocy is just the plight of being male? I don’t know. In any case, after writing this and thinking back to where i was last night, nothing... NOTHING could have changed that outcome. If Dr Emmet Brown from Back to the Future had flown in all crazy haired and offered to take me back to that conquered, owned and oblivious boy on his knees at that point in time, i’d tell him not to bother and to get on with saving the Clock Tower. There was no point. The deed was done. Maybe the deed was done the moment i met Mistress and realised that my purpose was to be owned by Her.

*Sighs* I guess i’ll only be enjoying my marmalade on toast for the near future... Unless someone has some working blue prints for a time machine?