A story written by o
ne of my subs. Some parts are real, some parts are fantasy. All of it is erotic and came out of our dark minds.
Mistress Scarlett and Sub s
She promised it would be more rough this time as she inspected my naked form. You see, “it’s about me” she said. “And yes, I enjoy the play with you, but I’m not so much as interested in your pain, or any fulfillment you may get from it, as I am interested in how it makes me feel when I impose it on you.” She cupped and lifted my balls in one hand to see if they weighed heavily enough.
“As your Mistress I was disappointed in our last visit when you waited only three days between your last orgasm and when you came to see me. Today is better. You have waited 7 as I instructed, and I can see it in your heavy balls.”
Mistress Scarlett knows that in fact I have waited 7 days. She knows this because when we first began our periodic visits she told me if I could not be honest with her she would not have me. So we have an agreement. I am honest with her.
I am her orgasm slave, Sub s. All of my orgasms are devoted to Mistress Scarlett. This can get emotionally complicated when making love with someone else, but as I said, I am honest with her. While she has no particular interest in my orgasms, she understands that is what an orgasm slave craves and needs, and that’s helpful for her to know when training a new submissive. For me, it is urgent, unbridled and heart pounding when I am near her. Once as I lay on the floor with her army boot pressed down hard on my genitals she delighted in saying, “I can feel your heartbeat through the sole of my boot”. You are my “Sub s” now, and all of your orgasms are granted only by me. Slowly my Sub, you are going to learn that my giving you pain will be the only way you will be able to orgasm. I’ll teach you well so I will be able to spend so much time giving you pain and making you ache for me.
Lost in these images of Mistress Scarlett as they race through my head I am nearly unaware as she chains my ankles and wrists to the torture bed in her dungeon. I am brought back to reality with a slap across the face. “Watch me!” she says. “I am going to do things to you and you should see them” She smiles with her mouth slightly open as she slides the steel anchor shackle around my balls… “Ah hardware stores…They should consider changing the name to ‘Home Despot’” she says, “there are so many wonderful things on so many aisles. Don’t you think, s?” A chain is hooked to the shackle around my balls and she threads the other end of the chain through an eye bolt in the ceiling. I am unclear whether she used the stud-finder to place the eye bolt or had the stud do it for her once she found him. I can barely imagine how it would work at all as her stud finder has only the “on” position, regardless of where she walks.
I am tied. Restrained. Vulnerable. Mistress Scarlett lays down close next to me. I feel her warmth. She is almost flushed and so relaxed after our hour long foot worship session. As her sub I feel fortunate I have something of a skill to offer in the way of sensual and soothing foot massage. I feel useful when I caress her feet and suck her toes. There are fleeting moments when I feel I am wanted by her, and she knows, if I am wanted I will give her anything. I will give her my balls for her to inflict any form of pain or torture or humiliation in which she cares to indulge. Perhaps you would care to have your balls glued to your legs today, Sub s? Who would do such a thing? Or maybe your balls should be whipped until they bleed?
Her eyes meet mine and her parted lips glisten in the candle light. She smiles and runs her tongue back and forth along the bottom edge of her top teeth. “I like to bite” she says. I wonder to myself, how does it feel when your teeth itch. I wonder only very softly because I know she can read my thoughts. And as I wonder it feels as though I am floating up to the sky. There is a gentle but undeniable force raising my body up off the bed. And just as my conscious mind realizes what is happening, my balls are jerked hard and I am raised high and tight, suspended by my balls as Mistress Scarlett yanks and jerks rapidly, repeatedly, on the other end of the eyebolt chain. UP!!!! UP!!!! I WANT YOU UP!!!! She shouts in my ear as my remarkable yoga bridge form takes hold. Though, it is only remarkable because I do not do yoga. My body is shaking, my balls are pinned behind the steel shackle and I begin to sweat. Need a hand?, she says, placing her palm on my ass cheeks and pushing them up a little. How much can your balls take tonight? she asks.
————
She plays with my ass taking her hand off and on as I try to maintain my precarious three point balance. “Now”, she says, “lets make this a little more comfortable for you, or not, haha.” As I struggle not to move, she bounces off the bed and opens the play toy dresser drawer. A large 14” bright red dildo emerges maybe 5 inches around. She places “Big Red” upright underneath me…the head planted firmly between my cheeks. As long as you keep it nice and tight you’ll be fine just like this. “So, lets get started.” “I want your balls tonight.” “I want to make them hurt and watch what it does to you.” “I’m going to turn them from pink to red to purple because you need some bruises.” “Bruises that will last” “And if I get what I want, you’ll get what you want, my sweet orgasm slave”.
She begins with Miss Guatemala, a very stiff, short, multi-stranded, Central American, leather horse whip. She whips my belly and my nipples, my thighs and then lays it hard across my penis and balls. The skin on my balls is so tight Miss Guatemala leaves bright red thin welts which immediately raise and turn very dark red. Next a small wooden baton…and when she hits me with it my balls register a deep penetrating ache which runs up into my belly, over and over and over, sometimes in time with the music, sometimes not, sometimes more in tune with how painful my body registers, as I grunt and hiss through my teeth. She punches and pounds and slaps my balls. A thin red carbon fiber switch comes out and Mistress Scarlett takes careful aim at the head of my penis…better to make it hard and large so my switch will leave its proper mark she says. And with that Miss Scarlett’s hand transforms into a Siren’s caress and I grow beneath her touch. My erection is full and throbbing as she bends it forward and strikes the head– the thin purple bruise is nearly immediate and she strikes it again leaving a bruise that will last for two weeks.
The leather quirt comes out, the wooden spoon, a hand made paddle and she beats my balls front and back as they hang suspended from the ceiling. Keep looking she says, you need to see it coming along with all the pain. My body is soaked as she slowly eases the tension on the ceiling chain and I am finally allowed to rest as Big Red thankfully slips out from under me.
Her Siren’s hand again begins. My body is drained of strength and my balls seem to be covered with a dark mottled red leather – I realize it’s what my skin has turned into after her beating them so hard, for so long. My penis edges and strains and throbs under her hand. Her tongue runs along the edge of her teeth again as my own edge gets closer. I try to hold back as I know the bigger I am stretched, the wider and deeper my bruises become. She lets off and I am quick to go soft but not before she clamps two clothes pins to the corona around the head of my penis. And then her hand begins again. This time with each stroke of her hand, the leather quirt in the other hand slaps my balls hard. The clothes pins bite as the skin tries to stretch between the leaves of the pin. Mistress Scarlett smiles at the bite as she knows the pain grows more and more the harder and closer I get. “Push through it” she says, “you need to feel this pain little s” “it’s pain I want you to have, it’s my gift from me to you”, she says.
My grunts of pain now come from a deeper place and my hips raise up. My body tightens and strains and she watches…as the Siren’s hand slows and her touch grows lighter. I open my pleading eyes. She knows I have given her my balls to the fullest extent I can.
I hear her voice and it is so distant…from somewhere in the back of my head she says…“I want to hear you say, ‘please don’t let me come Mistress Scarlett’ ” And her hand resumes its irresistible caress. The clear pre-cum flows continuously from the deeply bruised head of my cock and I manage a whisper, “Please, don’t let me come Mistress Scarlett.” “Again, I want to hear it again” she coos. “Please don’t let me come Mistress Scarlett” as I feel a single pulse deep within and I know the next one will be a spasm…The Siren’s hand purposeful “AGAIN! She says. And I say louder, “please don’t let me come!”
And with that her hand vanishes, the leather quirt rains down one more time and she says “Oh, ok, hahaha”
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