Mistress is a professional dog trainer, and 110% against the use of shock collars for our furry friends, who don’t know or understand why they’re being zapped with 500 volts of electricity.
But she doesn’t hold that belief for her slaves who can understand and ought to know better than to disobey her entirely reasonable requests. She’s got a zapper, which is my least favourite toy, and uses it on me regularly. Its both to keep me in line - I pretty much always fold instantly when she brings it out - and as a simple punishment; not for having done anything wrong but more to remind me of how painful it is and that I ought to do anything to avoid it. Added to that, she loves the way I wriggle away from it, until the penny finally drops again that if I want it to stop, I have to remain completely still while she shocks me. The zapper always brings out Mistress’s inner sadist. Repeatedly. On my nipples.
But back to shock collars. As I said, Mistress has no qualms about shocking boys who really ought to know better, so she bought me a present. It consists of a handy remote control and a nylon fabric band - the sort of webbing you might find on a rucksack - attached to a black plastic box, anatomically curved, with two rounded metal prongs sticking out of it. The strap fits around the cock and balls, with the plastic box at the rear, between the legs, ready to deliver shocks to the rear of the ball sack of the unfortunate wearer.
She made me assemble it, fit the batteries - observing correct polarity - and attach it to myself. I knew what was coming. Putting the toys together and getting them to work is always my job. Being made to assemble the devices that are going to be used against you has a particular psychological effect, rather like recalcitrant 17th century sailors being made to construct their own cat o’nine tails. After a few false starts, she delivered that first jolting shock to my balls. I squeaked and leapt into the air. Mistress was clearly amused. After that the shocks came thick and fast, until I was doubled over, begging her to stop.
“That’s not how you ask, is it?” she chastised me, and zapped me again.
“Nuuugh….no Mistress. I’m sorry. How many more shocks would you like me to take?” I replied, ready to agree to any amount she might name.
“Just one more. I can see you’re hard, so after that you can fuck me. But every time you get to the edge and stop, you’re going to get another shock.”
I steeled myself. “Yes Mistress,” I grunted, and kept myself as still as possible for the final zap.
She pulled back the sheets, lay back and allowed me on top, making that face I love as she guided me into her pussy. I was rock hard and dripping wet.
“Fuck me hard,” she commanded, knowing full well that it wouldn’t take much for me to reach the edge and have to stop thrusting. I rammed as hard as I could, repeatedly filling her cunt with cock.
I looked at her, my eyes begging as she shook her head, lifting her hand up to fill my vision; making me watch as she pressed the button. We both gasped as the shock forced me into her completely.
I recovered, thanking her, and resumed servicing her. Providing her with the cock she craves, the cock she deserves. Not long and another pause, another shock.
But something strange had started to happen. The shocks weren’t dampening my lust. Sure, they were keeping me off the edge, but I found I was able to fuck long and hard. I asked her for more. While still thrusting.
“Please shock me again, Mistress,” I asked as we rutted. She looked surprised, but delighted to oblige. I kept thrusting through the pain.
“More?”
“Yes please, Mistress.”
“Beg me for it.”
“Please shock me again, Mistress. I beg you. Please hurt me.”
A look of delight came over her face and she pressed the button, holding it down, shocking me for several seconds while I continued to grind into her cunt. The feeling was so intense; the pleasure of being wrapped in her pussy, tight and wet around me, while my balls were being zapped. Pleasure and pain together.
She stopped, and I continued to thrust. “Pleeeease, Mistress!”
“Do you think you can cum?”
“So close, Mistress….yes.”
She pressed the button down with glee. My mouth opened in shock, but my eyes never left hers.
“Cum!”
I thrust, the confusing sensations, pain, pleasure, the tightening of my balls and the twitching of my penis as I delivered her seed to her. As my pumping subsided and I slipped back out of her cunt, she let go of the button, grinning.
She’d found a new delight for us both - making me beg for more shock collar.
Restaurant Dominant
We’re not all about sex and S&M, you know. Really, we’re not. Sometimes we go out. We went downtown to see the Mousetrap - the world’s longest-running play. I can thoroughly recommend it - it is a great plot that will keep you guessing and - despite a little bit of ham-dram - the production quality was quite good. Despite it being set in the 1950s, there are some good strong female characters. Neither of us are at liberty to divulge the ending though; we have both sworn a solemn promise to never tell. So don’t ask.
No, we’re not all about D/s, but even in those everyday, vanilla situations, her dominance shines through. Prior to the show, we went for lunch in a restaurant near the theatre. Mistress sat with her back to the wall, me facing her, so my attention was solely on her and not the rest of the room. I noticed that right away. Her taking control of the situation. We got drinks and chose what we wanted from the menu. The waitress came up to take our order, and Mistress reeled off both our orders.
Now you might say this was convenience; she knew and ordered first, chaining both meals together to make the process swifter and more accurate. I didn’t think so, though. It made me aroused.
Mistress seemed surprised when I mentioned this. That unconsciously, she took control, in a very public place, the power dynamic between us both very clear - at least to me, and with everyone else being completely unaware of what was going on. Even she was unaware of what she was doing; the control she had over me.
That, dear listeners, is real domination. So subtle, no-one notices. So firm, no sub can resist. I cannot help but follow that lead. I love Her, a true Domme.
The Pleasure of Service
Breakfast - A New Tradition
We’d discussed me making breakfast for Mistress several times but never actually done it. But this year, we finally got things together and I started making breakfast for Mistress. The first couple of days, it was quite simple - crumpets with butter and jam.
Then we had a discussion about bacon sandwiches - the proper sort, on cheap white bread, with the bacon cooked until it’s started to crisp but isn’t yet quite a piece of toast, then slathered with ketchup or - for those who love their spice - brown sauce. The Brits among you will know what that is.
Mistress is a foodie, however, so this was not going to be acceptable. We agreed on sourdough bread, dry-cured bacon, and fresh tomato. So the following day I went into the local store and got some bacon, and picked up mushrooms as an afterthought - we both just loooove mushrooms. Mushrooms fried in bacon fat are even better!
Mistress allowed me to wear a tee shirt and shorts to avoid hot fat burns, and I cooked up the bacon and mushrooms - forgetting to season them. For the next few days, I added some salt and herbs to the mushrooms to make them Michelin-class. At least I think so. Serving her this way felt good - another new way of pleasing her.
After breakfast, Mistress would lie on the couch and I’d take off her socks and massage her feet with some lotion - another little act of service
We both found it made the mornings more relaxed, easing us back into our roles, and as an act of service, I grew into it too. I’ve never been much of a service sub, but I gained a new appreciation for the simple pleasures of service. I’m still not a service sub - I’m sure Mistress would agree. I think she likes it that I’m her sex slave and can do service as well - and she has other sources of service-based submission, so I know she’s not going without.
Yet again though, I’ve learned another way to please my Mistress and grow into my position at her feet.
?
Making Tea
Mistress shares her favourite porn with me. It's the only porn I’m allowed. One of her favourite themes is dominant women leading men off to their bedchambers, holding onto their genitals and leading them gently and firmly to their place serving her in whatever way she chooses.
It is one of those things that I’d always thought of as being fantasy - I didn’t imagine it would happen; usually we’re already in bed together and Mistress strokes me to erection then pulls me on top of her.
This time, though, I was in the kitchen, making tea. I’d just put a tea bag in one mug, and was about to drop a bag in the second mug when Mistress approached me from behind, reached round and grabbed my penis, pulling me round, leading me out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom.
Surprised, delighted, and also thinking “Shit! What do I do with this teabag!?” I dropped it onto a stack of magazines left on the landing. She dragged me to her room and threw me onto the bed, taking complete ownership, my cock hardening more rapidly than an overmixed 2-part epoxy.
Before I could do anything, she was on top of me, mounting me, riding her cock, her hand between her legs, rubbing her clit.
I relaxed, pushed my hips up into hers, and from my prone position served her as best I could, thinking how lucky and privileged I was to have a Mistress, a lover, who wanted and lusted for me so much.
After she finished, I was sent back downstairs to finish making the tea. I’d completely forgotten about it, about the tea bag left on the stairs. Seeing it reminded me again of the control she took over me, completely in command. I finished making the tea with a broad grin on my face.
Sex and Drugs
More accurately, this should be titled sex on drugs. Viagra, to be precise. Mistress had some experience of her lovers using viagra and, despite me not at all needing it, she wanted to experience it with me.
In the UK, it has recently become possible to buy viagra without prescription - so that avoids an embarrassing conversation with the doctor. In my head I’d imagine it would go something like this:
“Doctor, I need some Viagra”
“Why do you think you need it?”
“Because I’m fucking an insatiable sex goddess and while she’s so sexy she keeps me hard without any real effort, she’s always disappointed when I enter the refactory period and wants to use me like a sex toy.”
“That’s totally unethical. I can’t prescribe it for you.”
“But you’re totally jealous, right?”
“Absolutely. You lucky bastard. Now get out of my surgery. I’ve got genuinely sick people to treat. And go see a psychiatrist, you perv!”
So yeah...never been a fan of that idea, and was just as reluctant to actually go into a pharmacy and speak to a pharmacist about it. The conversation would’ve probably gone the same way, at least in my paranoid head. And there would’ve been other customers in the shop, just to make it worse.
Of course, the Internet comes to my rescue and online service start to open up. Great - lie about a few things on an online form and get the pills posted to you in a discreet package! No need for any embarrassment.
As a result, I’m lying there, a Viagra pill in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. Mistress is leaning over me, keenly awaiting the results of her latest experiment. There’s a look of almost child-like glee on her face. “Take it,” she urges me.
I’m reluctant. What if it causes my heart to explode or my head to turn green. I swallow my irrational fears. It’s been tested. The authorities deem it safe enough. I pop the pill in my mouth and swallow it.
The sex that follows immediately is good - as always when Mistress and I make love. But damn...I don’t get soft afterwards. Holy cow! We fuck again. And I get to cum again. It’s like being twenty all over again and I’m still hard!!!
It was definitely the most amazing morning. I confess I didn’t keep count of how many times we made love, fucked, screwed, rutted that morning. It was sex for its own sake. Sex because. Animal. I got to the point where I just could not cum any more - and we continued to fuck!
Viagra is an amazing drug. Mistress is an amazing woman. The fact that she can take that much sex and still come back for more just blows my mind.
