Archive for the 'Mistress Worship' Category

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Feeling evil today, cum slaves….

HAPPY HALLOWEEN VERMIN!!!

You are a worthless excuse for a man, that is why you are here isn’t it?  A worm, a useless maggot craving the humiliation that only a perfect Mistress knows how to dish out.  Humiliating you is one of my most favorite things and nothing amuses me like a squirming worm begging — begging for more, begging for mercy, begging to be under my control. You’re pathetic enough to warrant the vitriolic verbal punishment from a Goddess such as myself.  You should feel ashamed being as wretched as you are. Your mere existence makes me want to puke.


I ll abuse your mind. I will degrade you and I will use you.  And you, my wretched worm, will pay dearly, literally and figuratively, for the privilege of being allowed in my presence. Dirty worthless slave boys have no need for anything but to serve this beautiful Goddess. You, without me, are less than nothing, a piece of shit not even worth stepping on. I know it and more importantly, your disgusting little worm dick knows it too.

This is not your typical phone sex, as a matter of fact, there may likely be no sex at all. I might let you kiss my ass and, if you’re able to pay my “cum tax,” you may even be given the privilege of humping the floor until you squeeze out a tiny drop of your maggot spooge from that tiny shrimp dick.


I’m not, however, entirely about humiliation. I am about pushing your limits in every way possible.  That’s right, I am going to have you doing things you never thought you would.  Even better, I will make you CRAVE the things that disgust you, for that is what it takes to please me.


I’ve prepared a list of other things that amuse and please me on the phone. You sad little cum dumpsters have no imagination without the one I inject into your brain, so here are a few things that makes your Goddess smile:


~ I love boys who have a foot fetish or an ass fetish.  Feet, leg and ass worship is a plus!
~ Stockings and nylons and pantyhose fetishists
~ Panties, Slips, Girdles and Assorted Lingerie (a cross dressing favorite!)

~ Forced Feminization – Crossdressing – Sissy Training – Slut Training for you pussy boys
~ Facesitting – Pussy smothering and Ass smothering
~ Cock and Ball Tease (Extra naughty boys love CBT!)

~ Cuckold Phone Sex
~ Tease and Denial with emphasis on “denial”. This includes chastity training & keyholder services.
~ ‘Submissve’ Adult Babies and diaper lovers – ab/dl
~ Anal Training, strapon sex, and forced bi, dildo play


In case you haven’t noticed, I am a harsh and demanding Mistress Goddess.  I take pleasure in your weakness, your suffering and your money.  What better use for your time and money than serving this most perfect Goddess Mistress?  Get out your wallet, pick up the phone and dial my number.

Mistress Of The Night

Dreams are funny things, aren’t they? So private, so personal, so absolutely powerful. And in the middle, right at the edge of dream and waking, the mind opens to a worlds of possiblity. It makes you receptive to the true nature of things. You are weak and while you’ll never admit it when you’ve put on your game face, you’re naked now, vulnerable. I will remind you as you face the day ahead exactly what your purpose is. I will arouse you, tempt you and taunt you as you deserve.

As your day moves on, as your ass is constantly kissed, you’ll have the reminder deep inside that there’s a Mistress out there who knows you’re really a kneeling, panting pussy boy in need of complete and utter humiliation. You will redden at the thought of filthy fantasies I plant in your brain to distract you, to seduce you.

 I know what you need. Honesty. And trust me, baby, I may speak it softly, but that only mocks your manhood all the more. You need some humble pie this morning, that daily dose of truth that keeps you hard all day long. Waking up to my special brand of emasculation is just what every dirty little humiliation junkie needs to face the world at large.

And for all you dirty boys who just want to wake up and stroke it? I would love to help you out with that as well. I’m no man hater, in fact, I adore all of you! So don’t let my penchant for humiliation scare you off, I’m a Mistress of many moods!

 

Demanding Bitch Goddess

 Are you a sissy boy?  Do you love to be on your knees and force you to fuck me the way I want you to?  Well, good.. because that is how I am.  You will obey me and my every command.  I will make you my bitch and be your boss!  I love virgins, the loss of power and beggin me to fuck and suck you makes me wet.  I am a women who is not afraid to tell you what I want, how I want it and when I want it.  Are you ready to meet my demands?

Dominant Handjob

“Get your fucking pants down, now!”

Heart racing, you struggle with your belt. She doesn’t have a right to treat me like this, you think to yourself. You try to ignore the clammy grip of nervous sweat around your balls. I ’ve paid good money after all; she is really nothing more than a whore when you get right down to it.

The more you think about it, the braver you’re feeling. Mistress, my ass! Just who in the hell does she think she is to talk to me like that?

Ignoring your own better judgment, forgetting that your pants are now down around your knees and your dick is sticking straight up, you look up to say something, to somehow defend yourself against my scornful abuse.

“You timid, little piece-of-shit, loser. Who in the fuck do you think you are looking at?”

My voice is cruel and unforgiving as I look at you with cold, icy blue eyes—first straight into your face and then down to your naked, twitching cock. I smirk, and you know you are beaten, that I have you, that I know you for the warped and twisted degenerate that you are. Your bravado is gone, your words caught dry and useless in your throat.

Wiggling my slender hand into a latex glove, stretching and pulling the latex to fit snugly between my fingers, I continue, my voice a wicked snarl, “Don’t even think about smart-mouthing me, asshole. You’re the one who called me. You’re the one who was so damn curious about a “FemDom” handjob. You’re the butterfingers who evidently can’t jerk off your own dick. You’re the underachiever who evidently needs an instruction manual on how to fuck pussy correctly.” My voice is sharp and cold and you know now that there will be no kindness, no mercy. But your cock is throbbing as you watch me squirting lube into the palm of my gloved hand.

“Five.”

I spit the number out at you as my slithery fist grabs your prick and moves down the length of it. The shock, the suddenness of it, is so visceral that you almost shoot your load right then.

“Don’t you fucking dare, weasel boy. This dirty, nasty, useless prick of yours doesn’t cum until and when I say so. And that would be when we get to the number one. Got it?”

“Christ! Fuck! Shit! Yesssssssssss, Ma’am.”

You hear yourself, a whimpering, blubbering, mindless automaton. You are my toy: a helpless, filthy cock-toy to abuse and molest at my whim.

“Four.”

As my hand moves—once up and once down—you feel my grasp tighten ever so slightly. Oh, she is a gifted Goddess. You know that now and your urge to cum is almost overpowering. You can’t help yourself and begin to actually wail. “Please, Mistress. Please let me cum now. Oh, please.” You hear yourself and are ashamed, but cannot stop. “Please, Mistress. Let me cum now. Let me be your dirty filthy boy and cum now. Please, please, please, please.”

Abruptly I loosen my grip and—before you even understand what is happening—smacks your cock. Once. Twice. Three times. There is nothing, nobody but you and me, my hand and your dick. You actually swoon and feel yourself buckling when I grab your arm and pull you you back up.

“No you don’t,” I whisper sweetly, lips grazing your ear. The unexpected change in my manner has you spinning and powerless, totally focused on me. You struggle to speak, to tell me you adore me, to tell me you belong to me while your abandoned cock twitches and drips, pointing directly at me: your Mistress, your Queen.

“You came here for a FemDom handjob. Don’t you remember? Or did your brain melt and drain into your balls and leave you stupid? If you spew already, you’ll miss the show.”

I giggle as I move away from you to sit in a nearby chair. You are tempted to beg me to come back, to jerk your cock again, that you will be a “good boy.” But seeing the look on my face you think better of it and are silent.

“That’s more like it,” I say, pointing between your legs. You are helpless, exposed. “That dick is now my property, my personal gear shift. Got it?”

Afraid to look at me, you nod, staring straight ahead. “Yes Mistress.”

“I’m going to start again in a moment, but this time I’m going to start counting back from ten.” Unable to stop yourself, you moan in frustration.

“Make that fifteen.” You bite your tongue.

“You’re learning,” I almost—but not quite—purr as I stand up again and walk toward you.

“Now stand there with your pants down around your ankles like the gimp-loser dick-wad you are while I lube this glove up one more time.”

“And then we’ll try again.”

Tiny little dicks need to be locked up!

Don’t you think a Goddess like me deserves a real cock, on a real man?  A strong powerful man.  A Superior man.  Everything that you are not.  A man with confidance.  A man who knows how to make a woman feel fulfilled.

You are lacking.  Your cock is pathetic to say the least.  You are not even worthy of my time, more less my attention.  What your deserve is for me to laugh at your miniscule and pathetic little dick, and slap it in a cage.  It is so tiny and useless it has no purpose so of course it should be locked away.  Perhaps if you worship me the right way and are very obedient perhaps I might let your pencil dick out of its cage every now and again.  Then again, maybe not.

Sissy fantasy time!

I dress you up super pretty because my friends will be over today and you will be the party favor.  First of all we will give you a latex pussy so you can totally be the little girl I want you to be.  Of course you will need some tits too.

Then I shall dress you up in a corset, thigh highs, and panties.  Of course you will wear the 5 inch stilettos.

I shall finish up the package deal by making you put on that hot blonde wig and some hot pink lipstick and other makeup to make you super pretty and girlie for me.

So while you are looking super pretty for me, your job is to cater to me and my girlfriends wants and needs.   You will serve us drinks while collared and leashed.  Whatever they want, you shall provide.  I will also have a few male strippers showing up to entertain us for the party and you are also to cater to their needs.  Not sure exactly what all we might require of you, but one thing is for sure….obedience and total submission is mandatory.

The Game

Open up, sweetie, it’s morning.

Her whisper wakes me, and I feel the pressure of what she has chosen for me today. A large phallus against my anus, facing inwards from the leather briefs I will wear all day.

Please, does it have to be so big today? I’m sore.

Please don’t question me, dear. You will need to be instantly obedient today, it’s very important to me. And you know how you can forget. This will keep your mind focused. Especially since I have not used anything to make it easier for you.

A firm, remorseless thrust, and the phallus enters me. No lubricant. Serious pain. Silence from my lips. I know better. There is no talking. No complaining. No whining. Silence. She knows exactly how hard it is for me. And she knows that sometimes I will fail.

Failure means welts and bruises at our house. A deliberate, thorough session with the cane and paddle. Crying will be required, but will not be sufficient to prove remorse. She will expect creative, satisfying displays of brokenness to assure her that I am utterly defeated, and that the pain in my heart will go on for some time.

She removes yesterday’s panties from my face, where they have been firmly in place since the previous evening’s lights out. The vaginal and anal areas covering my nose and mouth, the elastic holding the panties in place on my head. I am bereft when they are taken away. But I hope that later I might be allowed more than a cotton reflection of her.

Slavery suits me, I feel it deeply. I crave her authority, and her physical dominance of me. She outranks me.

To be close to her breasts, to meld my open mouth with her glorious vagina, to offer myself to the primal humiliating power of her bottom. My suffering, her pleasure. It is the central concern of our household. When she hits me, when she methodically sets about to make me sad, taking me further down than I knew I could survive. These are times I deeply and darkly crave. Every time she hurts me, I wish only for her to acquire more power over me through her expression of it.

Now it is time for her morning toilet, and time for me to serve her intimately. She sits down on the toilet, and I take my place kneeling in front of her, hands in my lap, eyes down. When she has finished urinating, she edges forward, knees apart, and takes me by the hair, firmly bringing my face to where it is required. I carefully and devotedly clean her vagina, lapping thoroughly to be sure that all traces are removed.

I make way for her as she stands up, turns, and puts her hands on the back of the toilet, feet apart, bent over. I place my tongue against her anus, and freshen her after a night of sleep. She is quite clean, for I serve her well, but the musk of her anus still has its powerful humiliating effect on me, and I am flushed, aroused, reminded of my status.

As she brushes her teeth, I kneel quietly, wondering what she has planned for me today, hoping and fearing that it will be difficult for me.

It turns out that today is shopping day. I am handed a list. While she is at work, I am to obtain everything on the list, and I am instructed to make the experience as devastating as possible for myself. One item on the list I know will be unobtainable: “Condoms — extra small.” But I know that I will go to the pharmacy, seek out the female attendant behind the counter, and ask in a clear voice for extra small condoms, making sure to experience the amusement and pity on her face, not avoiding the pain it causes me.

She also requires new panties. I am to spend a minimum of one hour selecting them, asking questions of the female staff at the boutique store at the mall: about materials, comfort, laundry care. I am to make it clear that I am responsible for the care of my wife’s underthings, and let my shame and awkwardness show to the young, pretty women who will doubtless answer my questions with increasing impatience and revulsion.

I must also go to the small specialty grocery nearby, and ask for difficult to obtain items for my wife’s dinner, explaining how angry she will be if I fail to deliver. My fear and panic at the impossibility of fulfilling her wishes must be conveyed.

Finally, I must buy a new set of jewelry for my penis and nipples. All the jewelry I wear on my most sensitive parts must be attractive but also functional — it must include a ring of some kind with which to attach me to the various places she may wish to keep me at home. The rings also serve as a means of amusement or punishment. When a three stranded chain is attached to all three rings, and then to a leash, she is able to control me very easily, causing serious pain and panic with a sharp tug. Or I may simply be attached to hardware in the wall for a beating.

The involuntary spasms I experience when the cane lands lead to a second, almost as intense pain as I pull away from the wall. I try so very hard to keep still when I am punished, which I know pleases her. It is analogous to her cherished game of making me keep silence while she hurts me — the common thread is that I am not allowed any means of releasing my suffering, but must keep it all in, letting it do its pervasive damage to my heart and mind.

I am hers. Today will be a hard day, and I am grateful for it.

I’m his Angel…..I can be yours,too.

I just got off the phone with my Mistress Angel. We have been in a T&D relationship about 5 years and she is coming to visit me in 3 days. We live in separate states and I cannot wait to see her. Saturday will actually be our 5 year anniversary so per my sweet Mistress instructions, I am posting this short story for all to enjoy. First, dear Angel had me shave my pubic area smooth as a baby’s butt, lock up in my CB-2000 and send her email pictures to confirm it Having done that, I am addressing my homework assignment throbbing, dripping, shaking hands and locked up tight. My assignment is to post a story on the net about how I will pamper my dearest Mistress Angel when she arrives in 3 days. Here goes:

Saturday arrives after some sleepless nights and that warm feeling I get in my heart and between my legs when I know my sweetie is arriving soon. I get up, put on the coffee, and realize my cock is dripping already and I am not even awake yet. I recall that my sweetheart will be getting on a plane in 2 hours with a key dangling on a shiny necklace nestled between her beautiful breasts. Through most of Saturday my cock stays pressed against the bars of its prison as my Angel is on my mind every second of the day. By the time I arrive at the airport to pick her up, my balls are a shade between sky blue and deep purple. Oh, sweet Mistress is going to be happy with that color. When I see her walking toward me, my heart starts to quicken. We embrace and my whole body begins to warm. Quickly we retrieve luggage, step to the car, and stare into each other’s eyes in a dim corner of the airport park garage. In the car, Mistress shows me she is without panties so I give her pretty pink and shaven pussy a welcome kiss. We are both wet, I start the car, and we head for home. The drive goes quickly as I am kept busy trying to watch the road and catch glimpses of my sweet Angel’s ultra thin landing strip. I caress the lips of her kitty, noticing how wet my dear Mistress is, and then we turn the last corner to home. We are seconds from arriving.

Once inside, we embrace, kiss passionately, and start all over like young school kids catching up after a long separation. I start making a margarita. She tells me to make it in the nude. I do not ask a anything, just strip down to the cage like a good boy and get ready to pamper my Angel better than ever before. I am eager to please and in moments I am mixing up a blender of margarita’s wearing nothing but my pink cage. When I get ready to add salt to the rim, Angel tells me that she prefers the blue salt as it will match the color of my balls. I had not realized in all the “excitement” but my balls were definitely blue and bulging. After a few sips of the tequila potion, Angel says I should go draw a bubble bath for her while she unwinds from the flight. Upstairs, I prepare a warm bath, bubbles, candles, soft music. She arrives with the blender and drink in hand telling me that she may get a little hard to please after finishing off the blender. Tequila tends to bring out the best in Mistress Angel. She slips in the warm bubbles and mentions to me that I should probably shave as my face would soon be busy and we want it to be smooth like a baby’s bottom. I notice my hands a shaking a little with anticipation while I shave but manage to get nice smooth results. Then I join my Mistress in the bubbles for some play. She says “I hope your lock doesn’t rust shut” with a grin.

After some bath tub play, we dry and embrace on the bed. Mistress Angel is so very attractive and turning me on like never before. Her skin is warm with the fresh scent of bath oil, completely shaven pretty pink pussy, wearing nothing but the key around her neck and a devilish tequila grin. She tells me to keep pampering and if I impress her enough I may get unlocked. I begin with passionate kisses, caressing her breasts, and does not take long for my tongue to find it’s place in her sweetness. She is so wet and tastes so good. I feel as though I have longed for her taste for years as I move my tongue around her clit and between the lips of her pussy. I love her taste. She must be as horney as I am because very soon she is shuttering with pleasure and moaning. She tells me to keep going, that was just a quick orgasm and she wants an earth shattering one. My cock is pressing against my cage by this time and sweet Mistress wants to see it. She moves to top and sits on my face as if to 69 and watches my cock throb and twitch against the cage while I move my tongue in her pussy and taste her juices. She enjoys teasing my locked up cock and touches my pink and blue bulge through the plastic cage with her long nails. Every touch causes me to twitch and drip even more. After some time riding my tongue she is growing near the edge as she starts riding my face harder and harder. I could lick her sweet tasting pussy all night long and be perfectly satisfied. Then I feel the key slipped into the lock and my cock thrusts free. Dear Mistress tells me not to dare cum as she faces me straddles my freed dick and lowers herself on top. I’m deep inside of her and she starts to rock back and forth telling me whatever I do, I will not cum inside her. This is one of my Mistresses greatest arts, no matter how near the edge I am she is able to bring herself to orgasm by riding me deep inside maximizing her clitoral stimulation, while I get nearly no thrusts to reach my satisfaction. Soon she is moaning in pleasure while I run my tongue around her nipples just to add to her sensations. Breathing hard she collapses on top of me and I know she has reached the earth shattering one she was looking for.

She falls onto the bed, and says “OK, I’m done.” She looks at my glistening rock hard dick, and tells me in her sweet angel voice to put him back in his cage for now. Before I can say anything she is handing me the cage and says come on, lock him up quickly or there may be consequences. She says “I may let you out right away, or I may keep you locked up for a week. We will talk about that as soon as the lock is shut.” I take the cage and at first it seems impossible to get my cock to grow small. After a while I feel the first decline of a lost erection, and soon my hard on begins to get soft, then I am able to squeeze the cage back in place. She is still basking in the afterglow of an orgasm that has her knees weak, and says be a sweetheart and click it shut for me. I notice my hands are shaking as I put the lock through the plastic post. Then I click it in place and immediately my attention goes to the key dangling around my sweet Mistress’s neck again.

What happens next my Mistress has told me depends on feedback that we get on this short story. She would like some ideas from the public on what to do next, so please give your thoughts. She tells me she will take the idea she likes the best and that will determine the fate of my next orgasm.

A day in the life:

Tuesday. That must mean Mr. Thompson up first, 9:30. Mr. Brown at 11:00. New client at 1:30, Mr. Fisher. Hmm, problem there, Fisher lives across town and 4:00 client lives in the next town over. Mr. Sanders at 4:00. Tight scheduling. Mr. & Mrs. Watkins at 7:00.

Bigger day than usual.

9:30, Thompson. Maternity bra unclasped, starting with the left breast today. He suckles and soon I’m breastfeeding a 45 year-old man. He’s a good boy really, a healthy, happy baby. He’s fussy though, must have all the milk available. Such an appetite!

10:05, left breast depleted, switch to right.

“Something tastes different today,” says my baby. Ah, his first words. I’m so proud.

“My diet has been a little different over the past week. Does it still taste good?”

“Very yummy, mummy!” What a cute little boy, suckle away, you need all the strength you can get. Growing boys need mother’s milk, to grow up big and strong.

10:32. Right breast depleted, time for mother to get going.

“Same time next week?”

“No, I have to go out of town for couple of weeks, so it’ll be a while,” says he.

“Well, I’ll have plenty saved up for you then, so maybe you’ll need more time.” I love my little baby.

11:00, Brown, walking distance from Thompson’s, rather awkward, ass is really stuffed, and have to drink lots of water. Have about two litres from sports bottles. Brown is already sitting at his desk, head down in shame.

Really, getting detention again! How students learn anything these days when they spend all their time rough housing and getting into trouble. It makes me so angry, I need to enforce discipline. Time to break out the trusty old cane.

“Brown, front and centre! You’ve been very naughty haven’t you, young man?

“Yes ma’am.”

“You need discipline don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Really, a fifty year old schoolboy, getting into fights. You should be setting an example for the younger students!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t start it, it was-,”

“No excuses Mr. Brown. You need to be punished.”

“No please, ma’am, please. I’ll do anything!”

“No, no. You need discipline. Pants down, bend over the desk!” Insolent little boy, trying to weasel out of punishment. I’ll give him the caning of his life.

WHACK! Whimpering, a little boy trying to act like a man. Well, a man needs to know pain and discipline to get through life. WHACK! Right across the buttocks. Red lines, signs that he’s learning something. WHACK, WHACK. WHACK!

He cries like the boy that he really is.

“If you want to be a man, you’ve got learn rules and discipline. If this is the only way to help you, I must punish you!” More whacks, and he begs me, please stop. But I can’t. It’s for his own good! Begging is the last refuge for hopeless little boys. He must be a man!

I whack him silly, his little bottom, once so pale, is now burning with crimson fire of shame and guilt. Yes, he shall learn from this, surely.

“Very well, Mr. Brown. Have you learned you lesson?”

“Yes ma’am,” between sobs.

“Detention is over.”

11:45, leaving Brown. In transit to Mr. Fisher. Drinking more water while riding bus across town. Another two litres, bladder really, really hurts. Need to pee, but must hold it in. Ass is uncomfortable because of bladder pressure.

1:30, Fisher residence. Balding little man in glasses and a turtleneck. Well, he just want’s acts not roles.

“Where’s your toilet?” I really need to go now.

“This way, let me get my camera.” That’s right, he wants footage. Most people don’t, it could be discovered by their relatives and expose their secret desires and stuff.

“Okay, face away, and squat over the toilet.” He leaves the seat up. Camera rolling, you’re a star girl! “Wait a minute, first fill this glass, then the rest for the flush.”

Whatever you say baldy. It’s a pretty small glass, and filling it only causes more suffering, since I have to hold back the rest. My bladder is killing me, and my ass is getting really uncomfortable. I fill the glass, then he turns the camera on himself, and drinks my pee.

“How is it?”

“Not quite as delicious as I’d been led to believe. Oh well, ready?” I nod. “Go!”

And boy do I go. It’s such a relief to be rid of all this liquid. It takes a couple of minutes to get it all out. He comes over and pats me dry with toilet paper.

“Wonderful, just exquisite.” Another satisfied customer! That’s always something to be proud of.

“So, same time next week?”

“Actually, I think just this once was good enough for me. Plus I have the tape. You’ve given me a treasured memory. Thank you so much.”

Well, I aim to please, as they say.

1:47, leaving Fisher. Catching bus to neighbouring town, have to make it to Mr. Sanders. Ass feels a little better now, but a long bus ride just leaves me itching and anxious.

4:00, Sanders.

“Hello again, well, let’s see what you’ve got for me this week!” He’s so excited, I hope I can live up to his expectations. It’s really hard to come up with a weekly surprise for Mr. Sanders, but his life is so dull, I just have to help out.

“Do you have some lubricant? I think I’ll need it.” He has some, you know it’s not the kind of stuff you can carry around with you all day. He grabs his camera. His surprises are the gift the keeps on giving, when he tapes them that is.

I apply a rather generous amount of lube to my anus, and do my best to get some up into my rectum. I’m kneeling on the couch for this, but it could get a little messy. Oh well, another surprise for him then.

I push mightily. Strain, strain, push, huff. It’s quite an ordeal getting something out of your ass that’s been up there all day long.

“Wow, you’re so amazing!” He loves these gifts. Shame his appointment isn’t later, then he could use today’s surprise with tonight’s dinner.

I push and strain. And eventually, a nice long and thick cucumber emerges from my anus. Let me tell you, it’s like getting over constipation. That first time you get something truly enormous out of your butt, you feel so much better for it.

“Oh my God! Thank you, thank you!” He shouts with glee at the rectal cucumber.

CuCUMber, get it? Nobody likes that joke.

“I’m gonna eat this right now. Time for a salad!” Well, that’s the best thanks I can get. My ass is good enough to eat out of.

4:45, that cucumber sure took a while to come out. But the bus ride home is much more relaxing for it’s absence. And the rest of my day is relaxing too.

7:00, Watkins residence. They just want someone to watch, and to operate a camera. They didn’t trust a guy, and didn’t want to ask a friend. So I get the job. And I can’t complain. It’s easy, pays well, and I like doing it.

I’m very helpful that way.

9:15, man can those guys last! Always fun to watch. Better than TV, better than a movie. I love my job. Anyway, my day is over. Time to go home and take a long bath.

Dog Training, Part 1[scratching the itch]

The following is an except from my puppy’s diary… hope you enjoy!!!
I didn’t think my ball gag would ever become comfortable and tried to catch my breath through my nose. Here, along with my butt-plug, was something else I had to gnaw on, something to keep my mind on. My Mistress provided me something for my front, as well as my rear. It made swallowing and drooling involuntary and came with straps that bit into the sides of my mouth in admonition, as an indelicate reminder more disturbing then the leggings and tail, but still no match for my groin’s itchiness. The itchiness was a beast, an abomination that kept me twitching and on the brink of doubling over.

I was beyond controlling myself for very long and would begin squirming without even realizing it. It was the bite of dog whip and yank of leash that kept bringing me back in line. My Mistress held both leashes tight and so short I was practically lifted into the air. My face and body were dripping in sweat, tears, and saliva that ended up on the floor along with my cock’s slaver. I could feel the moisture cascading down my face and body in sheets. I could feel it run in ticklish rivers, down my arms and thighs, over hills and into crevices. The constantly changing currents of warm and cold, along with my organ being eaten alive, were helping to drive me out of my mind. But my Mistress didn’t care about my misery and pulled the leashes even tighter. She’d made it clear she had every intention of keeping me as miserable as she could until I learned my place. Even now my Mistress was simply waiting for me to compose myself, which was impossible under the circumstances, but she not only understood this, she counted on it.

On top of all this, my head was now strapped into a leather contraption I’d just become aware of. I wished to keep it out of my mind, but it was so confining and had become so irritating, it was unimaginable and compelling beyond measure. My head was literally bound into a leather grating that was very tight and extremely unpleasant. There was a strap girding my forehead and there must have been at least five belts crossing my head in all, maybe as many as seven. There was a triangle of small leather straps through which my nose protruded and one that connected under my chin without interfering with my mouth. The binding ran in every which direction and pressed in from all directions. My Mistress had cinched my head tight and I felt as if my head were about to explode and I almost wished it would.

SNAP! The whip caught my buttocks again and I jumped. My mind took off and then crashed back to earth while my Mistress used the leashes to hold me in position. I no longer knew what I was doing, nor cared what was happening to me and let the leash’s dictate my posture as best they could. The itching, leashes, and dog whip were my only reference points and between their arrivals and departures I began rubbing my thighs together anew. I’d almost forgotten where I was and really didn’t care, because I was in the grips of a single desire, a craving so powerful it dominated every brain cell I had, closing my mind to anything else. I needed to catch my organ with my thighs at all costs; I needed to scratch the itch. I needed to do this so badly I was ready to do anything at all. But the dog whip came to remind me yet again.

SNAP! Its devastating bite caught my right buttocks and inside thigh. It was a slap in the face, a flash of reality that came out of the sky as a lightening bolt and hit with as much force. My Mistress kept me in line and standing obediently even though my head was spinning and tumbling in chaotic disturbances I would do anything to quell. My Mistress yanked the leashes and I lifted my head, knowing what it was she expected of me. I looked up in search of her and my tails tip, but couldn’t locate either. She yanked on my balls to lift my ass and tail higher. Since I couldn’t see very well through my tears, I relied on my Mistress for guidance.

“Come on, I’m waiting,” she said in a suddenly more pleasant voice. She yanked on my balls again and I strained to get my ass even higher. I felt the tails tip brush my forehead and tilted my head to send my nose in pursuit. I missed it again and thought I heard my Mistress giggle. I felt very much like a falling-down drunk trying to touch her nose while seeing double and reeling from Bourbon.

“Would you like me to make the itch go away fluffy,” my Mistress asked me. I shook my head yes and attempted to bark. I figured she would understand my gurgles and sprays. I felt the tails tip bounce around on my face, tickling my forehead cheeks and chin, but I had the hardest time making it meet the tip of my nose.

“Okay. First you must stand properly,” she said, and I may have wondered what it was she thought I was attempting to do, but I was only a puppy. “I promise to make all the itch go away once we get to my car,” she went on. So I followed her instructions and went on fighting the need to scratch while trying to connect nose and tail. Anything, I would do anything at this point to be rid of the itchiness; anything at all.

“Come on now, get that nose and tail together little boy and it’s off to the car and bye bye itch,” she said almost softly. She yanked on the leashes a bit and let me have another snap of the dog whip. The barbed tip caught either cheek or inside thigh, yet always spared my testicles, and for that I was thankful.

Snap!

“Get in position and I’ll make the itch go away. Come on, let’s go take care of that terrible itch right now,” she said again. The screams caused by the itching were drowning out the voice of my Mistress, and the itch was threatening to take me down again. Still I struggled to follow orders because I wanted my Mistress to make the itch go away more than anything else in the world. So I fought against overwhelming odds to keep from scratching myself as my body turned into one big itch and terrorized me to death.

Snap! Another bite brought me back in line long enough to take the short trip to the back door. As we headed down the hallway she continued to yell commands, keeping the leashes short. She almost lifted me several times but I didn’t care because the itchiness was killing me. Whenever I got to a point of failing to the itch, another snap curtailed that moment’s reflection and I crawled on to the yanks.

I think my Mistress may have gotten her biggest surprise upon reaching the back door. It was then that I jumped a little ahead. Suddenly and to her surprise I jumped up and put my front paws on the knob, pretending to turn an object I couldn’t even grip. It was her promise to relieve me of the itch when I got to her car that spurred me into this burst of action. ‘Yes, she had been right once more’, I thought to myself as her hand came to my rescue. The door opened and I went back and down with it. Yes, she’d been right again… she already had me crawling out my door and into the world entirely naked.

“Come along fluffy,” my Mistress said pulling me along beside her and out of my apartment.