Mon Capitaine – 3 - by Meldoran
As I said last time, Lady Mary sent me to the kitchen, ordering me to prepare dinner. She had not asked me for anything in particular, but the refrigerator and the pantry were sufficiently stocked; therefore, I decided on a puréed soup of leek and potato and an omelet with ricotta cheese and rocket, served with a salad of fennel and orange.
Lady Mary didn't show up until it was time for dinner, and I'm sure that was no accident. In my opinion, She knew that the mental work was wearing on me: to ponder over these new sensations, to let them enter totally into me and make Her victory more pleasant, I am sure this was Her plan.
Anyway, I set the table, making sure that everything was perfect. I found everything I needed to set an elegant but not ostentatious table, that would reflect my care and my desire to make her happy. Yes, because that's what always gnawed at me. I felt that was the reason I was there, but it was also what, little by little, began to be the most important aspect for me as well. Despite everything.
Just before dinner time, Lady Mary appeared through the kitchen door, and, with a silvery laugh, said to me, "Dinner is to be served at 9 p.m. Fifteen minutes before. I want a Prosecco in the living room. Chilled just right, of course." And she disappeared.
At the requested time, I showed up in the living room, bringing a tray with a well-chilled Prosecco, already poured in a crystal flûte. I had not found anything else to accompany the wine, but I was sure she did not want anything else. I approached the armchair where Lady Mary was comfortably seated, and I could not help noticing she had changed her dress. She was wearing a black skirt, not short, which allowed a glimpse of her legs up to the knee, sheathed in dark stockings. On her feet, a pair of shoes with high but not too high heels, black, not shiny, very elegant. She then wore a cream-colored shirt, which highlighted her femininity, and which was enriched by a beautiful brooch depicting, for what I could understand, a whip. Receiving no specific instructions, I approached and knelt by the chair, offering the tray and telling her, "Your Prosecco, Lady Mary."
She looked at me, visibly satisfied: "Well, I see that kneeling in front of me comes naturally to you and you don't need me to remind you" She took the glass, observing its contents in transparency and telling me: "Well, you don't think I invite you here and leave you high and dry, do you? In fact, I'd say we should toast our meeting. The first of a long series of meetings." I think she noticed my puzzled look and continued, "No, no, don't let it go to your head. You'll have Prosecco, but you won't have a glass." So saying, she took, from a small table right next to the armchair, a small metal bowl, shiny and clean. She poured some wine from Her glass into it, whispering in my ear "Don't say I'm not a hospitable person: I'm even depriving myself of MY Prosecco to toast with you!"
At this point, she placed the bowl on the floor, next to her shoes, and, not caring about my astonished look, she said to me: "A toast to our meeting, may it be the harbinger of many pleasant moments!" and she put her hand in my hair, gently pushing me towards the bowl. The tremendous thing is that I did not object, until my mouth was just barely over the wine in the bowl. "Here's to you, slut!" and She sipped the cold wine at the same time that I, with my tongue, began lapping it, just like a dog.
"Well then, mon Capitaine, what do you think? It seems to me that we are on the right track, don't you agree?"; and at my silence, She tapped my cheek with her shoe, saying, "Come on, it is not good manners not to answer a toast." "Here's to you, Lady Mary."
"Good, good. And now, don't move." She put the flûte down on the tray, stood up, and walked behind me, I couldn't see her, and I won't hide the fact that it made me quite nervous. As if she had read my mind, she said, "Don't worry, mon Capitaine. I just have to do something that will be useful to me later."
So saying, she reached down and took hold, quite violently, of my member (which was dramatically hard) and my balls. "All this good stuff, we need to keep a tight rein on it, quite literally." As she spoke, I moaned. I could feel her tying it all up with a rope, not so tight that it could hurt, but securing the string to the base of my cock and balls.
When She was done (the operation lasted a few minutes) she stood up, evidently satisfied with the result, and headed towards the kitchen, making a sign to follow her, obviously on all fours. I obeyed and crawled behind her.
Once in the kitchen, Lady Mary observed that everything was at the right place and sat down comfortably on the chair that was positioned in front of the set table. Without waiting for her nod, I went to the stove and heated up the puréed soup. In the meantime, I took the plate on which I had laid some figs with Parma ham and I approached her, asking permission to serve her the appetizer. Which I must say was particularly appreciated. I passed then to pour the puréed soup, serving it with some croutons I had prepared in no time.
As she was observing, Lady Mary motioned me to get on all fours next to Her. "It's obvious that you need to eat something too, but not figs or leeks. No. On the contrary, given your current position, I was thinking of a nice box of dog food, how about that? What I used for my dog is of the best quality, it will be just fine for you. Take it, it's in the fridge. Put a few spoonful in the bowl here."
I obeyed, putting some of that slop in the bowl at Her feet. I rearranged myself on all fours, waiting for Her nod, which came immediately. "I eat figs, you dog food. I think it's perfect, don't you? " But clearly it wasn't perfect enough, because I saw Her get up, bring herself behind me again, and attach a new rope to the one she had previously tied to my balls; she fastened the other end to the handle of a cupboard, figuring it all out so that I couldn't completely bring myself close to Her chair, near which was still my bowl.
"Come now, you know you are hungry, and I don't want to be a bad host. Enjoy this first-rate pate" I finally realized what she had in mind. Reaching into the bowl was not impossible, but it required an intense effort that reflected in an extreme strain on my poor balls. I began to moan for the pain that was becoming more and more intense, to which she replied with an amused laugh: "Come on, mon Capitaine, show me what you are made of. In the boat you're certainly accustomed to lines under tension...let's see how you do when it's your balls that are under tension..."
I felt humbled and challenged at the same time. I had to succeed, even though the distances were calculated to cause me a very intense, almost unbearable pain. Nevertheless, I managed to finish that obscene meal, with its intolerable taste, although the taste was the least of my problems at that moment.
"That's my mutt. Very good indeed. And now, your reward." With that said, she moved the now-empty bowl with one foot and placed the foot itself on the ground, close to my face. Her tone had suddenly changed, becoming icy and sharp "Kiss my shoe. Lick the toe of it. Now, slut" I moved closer with my body but realized that actually Her shoes were a little further away from the bowl. All planned so that I would suffer even more. "Come on, beast. Honor your Mistress. Win your prize through your suffering. The more you suffer, the sweeter the prize will be."
I honestly didn't think I would succeed. With lucid sadism, at the moment when I seemed to reach my goal, she would push it away just enough to fill me with frustration and a promise of more pain. But I succeeded (of course, only when she agreed that I could) and began licking her shoe with such a fervor that I could hardly recognize myself. But what was happening to me? Half-naked, on all fours, licking the shoes of a woman I could very well have kept at bay. The same thought must have crossed her mind because at the same time she said to me "You realize what you are doing, right? You're licking my shoes, with your balls howling in pain, when you could just as easily be asserting your masculinity and playing with me in other ways. Slut."
Her words amplified that sense of sublime submission that had been always inside me, but of which I had never been aware. But licking her shoes didn't last long. With a well-aimed kick, though not painful, she pushed me away, saying "Follow me, to the bedroom".
I confess that, although I had no idea what she had in mind, I didn't hesitate for a single moment to follow her, which was not simple, since I kept moving like a beast, on all fours. The room was upstairs, and it wasn't that easy.
The room was spacious, with a fairly large bed and elegant furniture limited to the essentials. Attached was a bathroom with a shower.
She sat down on the bed and with slow, seductive movements began to undress. "But… isn't it going to hurt to be so aroused all this time? We have to see to that..." The light in her eyes did not promise anything good, it was a mixture of lucid sadism, not immune, however, to a certain sweetness. She was making me a succubus, I can't use any other word, and we both understood that we were completely aware of it. "Get me my slippers, out there, under the chair, and bring them here; then put my shoes back where they belong. With your mouth, slut."
I tried to imagine the scene as if I were an outside observer, me pacing the room, on all fours, with Her shoes between my lips. This scene, instead of horrifying me, excited me even more and made her look more patently amused and wicked at the same time.
When the operation was over, during which she had removed her clothes and put on a silk dressing gown that was absolutely sublime and fit her like a charm, she continued "Really, we must do something about your erection. In one way or another." As she spoke, she had taken my member and began to caress it, which for a moment made me hopeful about how she was going to provide for my erection. She was provoking me, mercilessly, making me moan with a skill that I had rarely ever experienced (and I must say, I was hardly a novice). But my hope was destined to be unfulfilled.
Suddenly, She squeezed both my member and my balls with such violence that it caused me excruciating pain and an involuntary desperate scream. "Shhh, the neighbors might hear you...and what might they think? But I have to take care of it, I told you, since you can't control yourself..." and while she was talking she began to slap my member with repeated blows, not even bothering to hit me with her fingernails, which had the effect, along with the pain that didn't seem to fade, of almost completely reducing my erection.
I thought I was crazy to put up with this; and I thought so, even more, when she took a box from a drawer in the nightstand and revealed its contents: a metal contraption, resembling a medieval torture device, that I had never seen before. "I don't suppose you know what that is. It will be your companion throughout the weekend and will serve to keep your member politely in place" After which, without further ado, she reached over and forcefully introduced the 'thing' onto my member (actually it was the contrary…my member was squeezed to get into that thing), locking it with a padlock. "Now, even though you'll be horny as a beast, you won't be able to get hard, and indeed your excitement will cost you pain. Can't you tell I'm really good and let you discover new things?"
Her words resonated within me, as if I were in a trance, plucking strings that until then I didn't even know existed. That instrument on my penis humiliated me, it hurt me, but I didn't oppose, on the contrary, I wanted in my heart to show her even more how low I could go. But she wasn't done, evidently: from the same drawer she took a plug of significant proportions, and without any preamble or precaution, she shoved it firmly into my ass, locking it with a pair of leather strings that she fastened tightly. "That's my bitch. Yes. Slut. But MINE. You belong to me, mon Capitaine. I want to drive you crazy, I want you to no longer be able to distinguish between night and day, between right and wrong, between true and false. I want you to no longer have a will, to sink little by little into an abyss of degradation and annihilation. For me to be your unreachable, ruthless Goddess of vengeance. Welcome to your nightmare of depraved submission, slut."
