Cries of rapture escaped my lips as this precious torment continued. Will was rubbing the ice directly on my clitoris and
I moaned. He kept this up for a few more moments, until he was satisfied with my reactions. He then moved downward, rubbing
the ice along my pussy lips. He nudged them open with a finger. “Ahh, Will, no,” I whispered, as I felt the ice cube slip
inside me. He didn’t listen to my pleas, because he knew that my gentle protests were part of the game.
The chill of the ice was radiating in my womb. Will leaned down and sucked the icy nub of my clitoris between his lips. He
rolled his tongue around it, warming it with his mouth. My hands clasped the bar that I was tethered to. The melting ice and
my love juice soaked the mattress. Each lap at my sex increased my arousal and added to the wet spot underneath me. His panting
breaths fanning my cunt proved that he was just as turned on as I was.
He looked up at me and growled, “God, I want to fuck you.”
“I won’t stop you,” I joked breathlessly. Will climbed on top of me, sighing as he slipped his cock into the cool depths of
my cunt. For a moment, he just lay there, savoring the feel of my chilled pussy. Then he began fucking me slowly, picking
up speed until he was pounding into me. It may have been the combination of Will’s wintry touch and my being his bound captive,
or that Will is the greatest fuck I’ve ever had, because with little effort, his talented cock soon
brought me to a screaming orgasm. Before I could catch my breath, he jammed his cock inside me, filling me with his creamy
come.
I never did get the air conditioner fixed, but that’s okay. Will came up with more than enough ideas to help me keep my cool.
I can’t wait to see what he does this winter to keep me warm!
—Ms. Madeline D., Arlington, Virginia
Mistress Donna had been dissatisfied with my performance as her slave/husband. She kept hinting that I hadn’t been living
up to my end of our agreement. I wasn’t giving her enough sex and was generally failing in my duties. Since I live to please
her, I wanted to do anything I could to make it up to her.
As it turned out, my “punishment” wasn’t exactly a huge hardship for me. “It seems you can’t manage to follow simple orders,
my slave,” she said, staring down at me as I knelt before her, “so I’ve called in some reinforcements. My friend, who you’ll
address as Mistress Jessica, is going to help me discipline you. Now go upstairs and get into your cage,” she concluded, sweeping
by me.
I scurried upstairs and got into the cage she’d bought especially for me—it’s extra large, and I can
move around, but when I’m inside it, I’m not to make a sound and she can do with me as she wishes, which I find incredibly
exciting. I was extremely curious about my new mistress, but kept quiet as I tried to be obedient in my cage. Finally, the
moment of truth arrived. Mistress Donna came in and let me out, fastening my “Slave Jerry” collar around my neck and attaching
a metal chain that she used to lead me down the stairs.
The vision greeting me at the foot of the stairs made me catch my breath. Now, Mistress Donna is beautiful: tall, brunette,
perfectly curvy and pretty. But Mistress Jessica was at least a decade younger, perkier and more petite, with bright red hair,
a pierced nose, and a beautiful tattoo of a mermaid running down her left thigh. She wore tall black heels and a black teddy
with garters and black stockings. She lit a cigarette and Mistress Donna instructed me to hold out my hands to catch the ashes.
I cupped my palms, peering up into the sparkling green eyes of this second woman who would be dominating me. She took a long
puff, then blew out the smoke in a haughty gesture. Years of practice have gotten me so accustomed to this behavior that I
didn’t even flinch. She blew a few more puffs in my direction, then grabbed me by the ear, tugging me upward. With her in
her heels, we were about the same height, but I felt tiny and submissive next to her inherent superiority.
Jessica dug her fingers into the space between my
neck and the collar, keeping them resting there as I swallowed heavily. “Slave, I understand you’ve been very bad. Well, I’m
going to make sure that you learn a lesson that you won’t soon forget!” I was already quivering at the tone of her voice,
anticipating her sensual dominance of me. “Do you understand me?” she shouted loudly, right in my face. “Yes, Mistress,” I
replied quietly, bowing my head.
“You’ve been taking your mistress for granted and it’s high time you be punished for your neglect,” she said, grabbing my
leash as she propelled me forward. I had to hurry to follow her, but watching her firm, sexy ass and flaming hair got my cock
hard. I’d be lucky if these two would even let me masturbate at the end of our scene after being such a bad boy.
Mistress Donna was right behind me, and she’d somehow picked up her riding crop, slapping my ass with it as we made our way
upstairs. When we got to the dungeon room, they sat me down on a padded leather seat and used a variety of ropes to tie me
to the chair, making sure I couldn’t escape—not that I wanted to. Then they teased me by rubbing each of their bodies against
me. I was still dressed, and my cock was pressing urgently against my zipper, my arousal almost painful in its intensity.
The sight of these two gorgeous women intent on teaching me a lesson made me want to promise to do anything if they’d only
let me come. Mistress Jessica leaned down and pinched my nipple, then turned her
head so she could suck on Mistress Donna’s. My open legs gave them access to my cock, but they chose to ignore it. I heard
my mistress moan and longed for a taste of any part of her, but she moved away when I grunted. “A slave is not entitled to
sex with his mistress, he must earn it,” said Mistress Jessica as she sat down on the bed, facing me, and beckoned Mistress
Donna to join her.
They made me watch, unable to move, as they devoured each other, hands tangling in each other’s hair, mouths sucking on each
other’s breasts, as they battled for supremacy. Finally, Mistress Donna gave in and let Mistress Jessica pin her to the bed,
giving me a perfect view of my mistress as I’d never seen her before—her body bucking under her friend’s practiced fingers.
One hand held her wrists down and the other parted her pussy lips and made her jerk and gasp. I was amazed—and as horny as
all get-out. As Mistress Jessica probed my mistress’s cunt until she cried out in pleasure, my hard dick struggled to get
free. When Mistress Donna had caught her breath, she looked over at me with a smile. “See how easy it is to give your mistress
a good fucking when she needs it?”
I moaned, overwhelmed with the need to touch or be touched by at least one of them. Fortunately, they took pity on me and
untied me, but my exciting ordeal wasn’t over yet. When my hand discreetly moved to stroke my cock through my pants, Mistress
Jessica slapped it away. “You haven’t earned the right to touch
your cock just yet,” she said. “Go face the wall and place your hands above your head.”
I’d gotten used to Mistress Jessica’s voice ordering me around. It felt even more special to have two mistresses commanding
me rather than just one. Mistress Donna warmed me up with several smacks to my ass, her breathing becoming heavy and more
erratic as she hit me, then Mistress Jessica moved in. She ordered Mistress Donna to undo my pants and lift up my shirt. With
my pants and boxers down at my ankles, she flogged me, letting the suede strips of her whip bite into my skin, striping my
shoulder blades, then my ass, then the backs of my thighs. I maintained my position as best I could, my naked cock pressed
against the wall. The beating felt so good I thought I might come without even touching my penis directly, which had never
happened before, but if I did, I knew there would be a price to pay.
Mistress Jessica stopped, leaving my backside feeling like it was on fire, the waves of accumulated heat adding to my arousal.
“Turn around, slave, and show your obedience to your mistress,” she said. I did, looking up at a naked Mistress Donna. “You
shall begin by kissing her feet and work your way up her body,” she said, forcibly grabbing me by the hair and shoving my
head down to Mistress’s beautifully pedicured toenails. I was so grateful to have some flesh-on-flesh contact with my beloved
Mistress Donna that I devoured her tiny toes, shoving my tongue in the
crevices, then taking each one individually into my mouth. I kissed the top of her foot and polished each heel and sole with
my tongue, which she mashed down against my mouth.
Then Mistress Jessica grabbed me again, directing me to glide my tongue up Mistress Donna’s long, smooth legs until I reached
her beautiful pussy. There, I once again feasted, and I didn’t need an ounce of instruction from anyone in how to please her.
My cock was going crazy but I tried to ignore it, content in the knowledge that this time, I was doing what I was put on this
earth to do—give pleasure to the woman who controls, cares for, and possesses me. My tongue knew exactly what to do as it
slid into her wet tunnel, arching upward, then swirling around to stroke her special spots, before easing back to focus on
her clit. Soon she was moaning and her juices rained down on me. I buried my face in her cunt to catch all of her nectar.
I stayed there until her shivers subsided, and I’d swallowed a good amount of her sweet cream.
“Very good, my slave,” she said, patting me on my head. “Now get back in your cage while I say goodbye to Mistress Jessica,
and maybe tomorrow I’ll let you relieve yourself.” I’m happy to say that after a night spent with one serious case of blue
balls, Mistress Donna let me fuck her into oblivion the next morning, and any problems of the sort that got me in trouble
have been swiftly eradicated. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t mess up on purpose once in a
while, because with my mistress, the punishment is often quite rewarding in and of itself.
—Mr. Jerry K., Providence, Rhode Island
I’m a forty-three-year-old, healthy, successful businessman, and I’ve yet to find the right domme to give me what I crave.
I’ve come close a few times, but my past lovers never quite hit the mark, so to speak. They’d be interested for a few weeks,
then revert back to wanting me to make all the plans, take charge in the bedroom, and generally have the upper hand. They
couldn’t understand why I got off when they topped me.
So I’ve spent the last few years mapping out exactly what I need in a mistress, so that when I meet her, I’ll know she’s the
one. Here’s what I imagine our life will be like, especially when I’ve misbehaved. She writes out a list of rules for me at
the start of our relationship. I’m to follow them to a tee, and if I don’t, I will be punished. She has various forms of discipline,
but the one she likes best is to make me strip naked in front of her, then put on a pair of tight panties. They are not hers,
but my own—a special pair she got for me that traps my cock tightly. However, I’m so turned on that my dick swells inside
the panties, making my bulge visible.
While I have the panties on, she makes me get down on my knees in front of her. I don’t need much prodding because I love
servicing her, but rather than having me lick her pussy, she teaches me the art of cocksucking. She makes me watch video after
video where girls take guys’ huge dicks down their throats. “Do you see that girl right there?” she asks, pointing to the
one who is swallowing the largest dick. “That’s gonna be you—but it’s my dick you’re gonna be deep-throating.”
I groan upon hearing her words because sucking a cock, whether another guy’s or a woman’s pseudodick, has always been something
that’s made me hard. I’ve never had the courage to tell anyone, even my mistresses, because I thought it might be pushing
the envelope. But with my dream domme, it’s not only permissible, but a plus for me to want to learn to give the perfect blowjob.
Watching so many women get their mouths stuffed full of cock has me so hard I’m aching, but my mistress doesn’t let me touch
myself.