Tops and Bottoms 1 by Foxbat  (Fm femdom cons)

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Tops and Bottoms 1 by Foxbat  (Fm femdom cons)



   The leather thong wrapped four turns around my balls was stretched taut, limiting my motion, not that I could have moved much anyways, being tied to the bed.  My cock was rock hard, every atom straining to achieve the extra millimeter of length, which would achieve contact with her tongue, which was waiting just outside of my range.  

  A flick of her fingers against my bondaged nuts made my vision explode in red and orange, but did little to dissuade my dick from it's quest.  She ran a nail slowly across the sensitive skin, before flicking her finger again.  Before the pain could register though, I felt the entire length of my penis engulfed in the wet warmth of her mouth.  Two quick head-bobs and a little tongue swirl later, I was jerking against the chains and leather, ejaculating triumphantly as her nails continued to scratch across my scrotum.  

 * * * 

   I'm not a submissive person.  I've always been dominant in bed, and nothing gets me off like the thought of a girl on her hands and knees.  But I'd never found a real submissive girl (or at least one who would admit it).  I knew there was the whole life-style crowd out there, but I was a grad student at a good school, from a straight-laced suburban family, and unwilling to broadcast my kink publicly to find I woman who would indulge my little fantasies.  So, I turned to the online forums.

   And found nothing.  No one seems to want an inexperienced Dom.  The few email responses I did receive all seemed to go nowhere, mostly, I suspect, because they could sense I was new to "the scene."  So I took some advice, and posted an ad, offering myself as a sub to an older woman who could provide me with experience and connections.  I figured a little sacrifice might be necessary to get where I wanted to go.

   So that was how I came to know "Mistress" - I didn't even know her real name.  About once a week, she would come to my apartment (I was forbidden from knowing anything about her real life), and we would choose a scenario, which inevitably ended with me being tantalized, torn between pain and the promise of pleasure.  It was about 50/50 as to whether, on that particular day, she thought it would be crueler to deny me an orgasm entirely (which led to furious masturbation sessions after her departure), or to give me the option of accepting pain in exchange (which usually left me sore).  

 * * * 

   Today's game was pony.  Although we never used her house, she often brought equipment.  This time, it was a head-harness, complete with rubber bit, and  a saddle with stirrups.  The saddle had straps that went around my waist (cinch), and a pair that went over my shoulders.  It also had straps, however, that went from the waist strap back to a 2" metal ring, though which my cock and balls had been unceremoniously stuffed.  This acted like a whither strap on a real saddle, but also made my package prominent and easily accessible to her riding crop, which struck whenever I made a mistake, as we paraded around my apartment.  

	Eventually, Mistress had me nuzzle her, whinnying and neighing the whole time.  After a while, I got a dildo strapped to my forehead, making me more of a unicorn than a horse, and I did my best to her get off, succeeding only after 10 minutes of vigorous head-banging.  I was allowed to come today, although in rather humiliating fashion.  She sat backwards in the saddle, milking my cock with one rubber-gloved hand, while two fingers of the other were buried in my ass, rubbing my prostate.  Needless to say, I lasted about 30 seconds.

 * * * 

  Although I would be lying if I said I didn't find my sessions with Mistress somewhat exciting, but I was impatient to get on my promised introduction to "the scene."  It seemed I was always a few sessions away, and I think Mistress was sad and reluctant to lose her new plaything.  

   My salvation came in an unusual fashion, and at a steep price.  It was the beginning of summer, and I was out shopping at the mall for some shorts, when I ran across Mistress.  Before I thought better, I waved and said hello.  Thank god I didn't address her as "Mistress."  Immediately after I opened my mouth, I realized my mistake, as her glare could have killed small animals.  Just as I turn away, in a ridiculous attempt to make like I don't know her, I catch something out of the corner of my eye.  A girl, who could only be her daughter, had been walking towards us, and must have saw the whole exchange.  That would explain the death-stare.  I permitted myself a glance backwards as I walked away.  The daughter was gorgeous:  blond hair, she had inherited her mother's buxomness, but had a very wholesome college girl look to her.  We made eye contact for just a moment before I turned away.

 * * * 

   At first, my relationship to Mistress was fairly mechanical.  She would come over, we would play around, and she would leave.  She rarely said anything not relevant to the situation at hand.  

   But in those rare moments, little flashes of personality, of humanity showed through.  The few seconds of desperate fury right before her orgasm and the few seconds of blissful and relaxed fulfillment immediately afterwards, the fleeting expression of inner thought on her face before she could cover, and the surprising strength of her arm in punishing me for some tiny infraction all provided hints as to who she really was.

   I got the sense that she was an incomplete person - she was compensating or trying to make up for events that happened years earlier, that everyone except her had moved past.  Her fulfillment from our games derived from my being a sort of proxy, a boogey-man, a scape-goat for some conglomeration of people from her past.  It was for their sins, not mine, that I was being punished.

   That said, she was not so far unbalanced that she was a poor mistress, or that these scars showed in anything but the most barely-perceptible ways.  Her self-control was considerable.

 * * * 

   After the meeting at the mall, I expected our next session to be harsh.  I was not disappointed.  She began by shaving my scrotum - a new experience for me - which I, at first, thought was meant to be a form of humiliation.  I will say though that Dr. Evil wasn't far off when he described the finished feeling as "breathtaking."

   Next, I was positioned on the floor, gagged and blindfolded, on my hands and knees.  She tied each elbow to it's corresponding knee, forcing me to contort slightly and arch my back.  A parachute-type ball stretcher was fastened around my nutsack, and tied to a leg of my couch, stretching my balls out behind me.  

   I felt Mistress sliding a lubricated finger into my ass, and then pushing something else in.  A vibrating egg?  I became somewhat more alarmed, though, when I felt her playing with the head of my dick.  Something cool, long and thin was being inserted.  It was a very strange sensation, as I could feel it sliding inwards.  A small piece of tape kept it from sliding out.  

   For a moment, I couldn't tell what Mistress was doing, and then the blind fold was removed.  In front of my was a little control box with two dials and wires leading back towards me, just about 2 inches out of reach.  She carefully turned one of the dials, explaining that this was a TENS electrical therapy unit.  At first I felt nothing, but as she turned the dial, a throbbing sensation began in my cock and ass.  I realized the egg and thin probe must be electrodes.  The volume increased as the throbbing turned into waves of sensation - it felt like i was getting continuous blowjob as I could feel the waves traveling down my dick.

   Mistress smiled at me cruelly.  I could come and be released, she said, when I could reach the control unit.  Until then, she would whip me with her favorite riding crop.  

   I strained forward, but the parachute around my balls limited my forward mobility and the knee-elbow ties made it so that I could reach farther with my mouth than with my hands. I thought the control unit was impossibly far away.  It would take a solid 15 minutes to slowly relax and stretch forward without having my balls ripped off.  

   And then the lashes started falling, soft at first, but recognizably increasing in their frequency and intensity.  On my back, on my legs, across my ass.  Everything burned, except my penis, which was still pulsing from the giant electro-BJ.  I wiggled a half inch forward.  

 * * * 

   Ten minutes later, my body burned and ached, my balls hurt from frustration, tension and the occasional lash, and I was only millimeters away.  I arched carefully, took a few deep breaths, tried to block out the beating, and made by lunge.  I managed to bite the knob, and sink backwards before the pain in my nuts made me black out.  Unfortunately, in biting the knob, it got turned, making the previously pleasurable waves turn into needle-like stabs of pain.  I tried to focus through the haze of pain, and managed to turn the knob back down.  Moments later, jerking against my bonds, the pain fused with the milking sensation produced by the TENS, and I came violently.

 * * *

   Of the next ten minutes, I remember flashes.  Being untied, having my head held between Mistress's big soft breasts, her tongue soothing my crotch, and then being tucked into bed.





to be continued...






  - - -


First story in a long time... at least one or two more parts on the way.  I've had three relationships and a lot of sex since I last posted anything substantial, but it's all been boring.  Girls with the right kink are hard to come by.  As always, I love to hear thoughts, comments, criticisms, etc.