He had spent the previous 50 minutes focused intently on his 4:30 patient, the last of his day. She was a recently divorced local socialite, quite attractive in a far more made up way than he preferred. They had been working together for nearly a year to disentangle her from a miserable marriage that fortunately had borne no offspring to be mangled by their battles over the husband’s startup bonanza.
During the course of their work in psychotherapy the patient had developed some sexual feelings towards her handsome therapist, likely because he offered her the delicious total attention to her thoughts and feelings that her husband never could. He had handled this transference with firm kindness, helping her to refocus her efforts on understanding how and why she had made such a poor choice of partners. As he was holding the door open for her to leave, they both felt good about their work together.
The door clicked closed and as he turned to write his note on the laptop on his desk, his cell phone gave the single buzz that was its way of letting him know that his Mistress was leaving him a message. His cock sprang immediately erect as he took out the sleek device from his pants pocket and saw the terse indicator of how the rest of his evening was going to be. The message stated,
“Mistress has had a hard day. Meet her after preparing the bathroom for your prep.”
He was immediately flooded with images and sensations from memory. His adorable statuesque Mistress insisted on taking out the frustrations from her highly demanding job on her husband’s very cute derriere. She had compared it to the gold standard of male rear beauty, Michelangelo’s David, to whose body she claimed his bore a striking resemblance. But this aesthetic appreciation bought it no relief whatsoever from her frequent need to punish that part of him quite severely. Quite the contrary, she frequently declared during one of their sessions that his male beauty almost demanded he be stripped and spanked on a very regular basis:
“It would be like squandering a precious national resource, to let a male behind this adorable go unpunished for more than a day or two!”
But her command to prepare himself in the bathroom of their posh Pac Heights penthouse meant that his fierce Mistress was particularly peeved by her day at her law office. She was a high end divorce lawyer known throughout the elite of the City as the ball-busting bitch women wanted to hire to get the most out of their disappointing husbands. Her practice was his most lucrative source of referrals, good for their pocketbook.
But this network was hard on his backside since all jealousy about his imagined sexual longings for the beautiful divorcees she sent him would be taken out on that region that she claimed God so perfectly designed to receive corporal punishment. As his gorgeous blonde Nordic Goddess often observed when paying painful attention to his nether regions, she liked that he stand in for men who tried to metaphorically fuck their long suffering wives in the ass yet again after years of marital punishment. It seemed only fair to her that this outrage be karmically balanced by the same thing happening to our hero’s own cute buttocks.
He was more relieved than not that the command to prepare in the bathroom meant his Mistress would be administering a very ‘high, hot, and hard’ soapy water enema so that his back passage would not sully her strap-on. This relief was because she required him to lick clean the enormous dildo with which she would be fucking his well-spanked ass.
He was also grateful that his blazer could be buttoned for the few block walk from his office to their high rise. One way that his Mistress claimed his naked form to surpass that of the iconic David was a much larger set of genital equipment than that Renaissance object of Michelangelo’s desire. His Mistress took great pleasure in his indefatigable 8-inch erection, riding him to several orgasms every night as he played with her small firm breasts and engorged clitoris with his hands. God, she was so adorable that even looking at her made him ready to come. But she was very clear about her total ownership of his orgasm.
Spending himself without her expressed consent would mean a long terrible spanking of his balls. This was a fate to make him shudder. But at least once a week there would come a time, most often when she was feeling ‘frisky’ and particularly disgusted by men’s depredations of women. She would delight in forcing him to come without permission so she could punish the origins of his maleness with a clear conscience. Not that his fierce Mistress needed to justify any usage of him that she pleased, but still…At least the appearance of fairness needed to be observed.
In any case, the blue blazer buttoned against the evening fog almost concealed the rock hard erection that our hero would be sporting for the rest of his evening. His Mistress loved it that he always stayed rock hard in her presence. She would often remark, “The dick never lies”. His nearly permanent erection when anything erotic was in the air told the truth about how he felt about her dominance.
They would be eating late, since they both preferred conducting their almost nightly scenes on an empty stomach, especially if he was to be fucked in his ass and have his balls spanked. No need to risk him throwing up if she got too enthusiastic in tormenting his precious orbs. And if being hungry made her a bit cranky, all to the better in her opinion. Since that grouchiness too could be taken out agonizingly on his vulnerable nether regions.
He loved her insistence on hijacking his psychoanalytically trained mind to his secret life as her adoring butt boy by texting him before he left work. She wanted him to struggle to hide his erection from his beautiful receptionist who had long since made it clear she was available for any dalliance he might deign to pursue with her lush body.
His Mistress delighted in always keeping his buttocks sore enough that he could not sit without awareness of their primary role in their sex life. She had a hard and fast rule never to draw blood or leave marks that would last more than a few days. But that left more than sufficient room for a wide variety of artistic torments of his gorgeous manly moons and their environs. She wanted him to have a physical reminder of her dominion every waking moment in the constant residual soreness of his nether cheeks and the secret passage between them.
His Mistress preferred binding him to receive his punishments. This was in part for artistic reasons, as she loved the look of his naked body bound into highly exposed positions. But she also claimed that binding him elaborately ironically freed him to give himself fully to the fierce experiences she delighted in inflicting on him by liberating him from any concern about resisting his torments. If their scene was starting in the bathroom, that probably meant he was to be restrained on his back in their vast bed.
His naked body would be positioned on a fluffy Egyptian cotton bath sheet to ‘catch the drips’ as she put it, since he would be sweating profusely from the pain he would be receiving. His arms would be tied by soft white ropes to the upper bedposts, as would his legs, pulling him into a sharply bent vee that radically exposed his ass and inner thighs and genitals. Then she would pass another rope around his trim waist (she loved his abs, and monitored his diet and exercise carefully to keep them sharply defined) and tie it off to eye bolts screwed into the bottom of the sideboards of their bed.
When pulled tight, this rope ensured that no matter how intensely he was stimulated, her aim would not be spoiled by any movements of the regions she loved to target with her untender mercies. If their scene was starting in the bathroom, that meant he was in for a good thorough ass fucking. She liked to do that standing at the bottom of the bed so she could properly drive into him. Thus, once tied his tightly bent and splayed ass would be slightly extended over the bottom edge of their mattress.
This position was a favorite of hers for other reasons as well. Among these was that she could lay out an entire array of the implements she would be using to punish him on the bed next to them so he could see what was coming for his bound helpless body. There would no doubt be leather and wooden paddles, some pierced with dozens of small holes to let the air pass through so her targets would receive the full force of each spank. Straps of varying thicknesses would be included since they curved so nicely around his thighs, delivering a strong even pain down their whole length.
A couple of whips would be included, as well as a switch or two for their ability to reach tender crevices like those bordering his crotch and of course his nether cleavage. Which she particularly delighted in punishing at length to tenderize it to fully appreciate his eventual sodomization. And of course there would be the hated small wooden spoon whose inner curvature was chosen to exactly match that of his testicles. These would be retrained as always by the intimate jewelry she had given him on their wedding night. In her private ceremony she clicked on a clever white gold circlet that he was to wear at all times around the base of his scrotum to render his balls eternally available for her purposes.
But the main reason she liked binding him in this position was that she could freely wield all of these implements while riding his head with her thighs so that his mouth could be kept busy between her legs. He was, as she put it, a most cunning linguist, infinitely skilled in using his mouth to get her off spectacularly.
Her favorite ploy was to choose a weapon and a target area and spank him there until he succeeded in bringing her to orgasm. Initially that could happen in a minute or two. But each of her climaxes would take longer and give her more and more leeway to enjoy punishing him as their evening progressed. By the time for his ball spanking, that could mean he might endure half an hour of incredible pain before her tempestuous culmination would liberate him.
Most times when a scene began in the bathroom, his cruel (she preferred to think of herself as thorough and meticulous) Mistress had a particular pattern she followed. He would have prepared the enema apparatus while she meditated on their deck, filling the bag brimful with steaming soapy water and attaching the nozzle that ended in an inch diameter plastic sphere so it would stay in place while the fluids were instilling and being agitated.
His ankles would have been secured to the ends of a four foot spreader bar to offer up his bottom as she preferred, and his hands bound together at the wrists before he would be helped to bend over her lap. If she lubricated his cock, that would mean a terrible dilemma for him. This was because she always insisted on agitating his enema once fully instilled by administering a brisk spanking to his delicately parted buttocks with a fierce large ebony hairbrush.
The lube was employed to ensure that her future enjoyment of his cock would not be compromised by any chafing between it and its delicious prison between her trim muscular thighs. This would mean that he was presented with an unfortunate choice: he would be spanked until he came between her thighs, but that outcome would mean that his balls were to be spanked.
On one level, he knew that just letting himself go and having an easy orgasm by focusing on the sheer hotness of his circumstance was the least painful pathway. But to just acquiesce to having his balls punished first by the concavity, then the convexity, and finally the handle of the wooden spoon was not something he could cooperate with. So he would squirm over her lap, first during the thorough fucking she would give his ass with the plastic sphere. But he would quiver and buck even more enthusiastically during his fierce spanking with the rock hard hairbrush until he was forced to spend his semen on the bathroom floor.
Only then would he be released and allowed to evacuate the well-churned waters within to render his back passage squeaky clean for its eventual depredation by her enormous strap on.
He was always embarrassed by how quickly his erection recovered from that first spanked and fucked orgasm. Kind of silly, since they both knew what a hopeless pain slut butt boy he was, but still… Did his subjugation have to be so blatantly obvious, sticking out like a sore thumb as he walked out of the bathroom after cleaning himself meticulously. It would bob insouciantly with each step as he walked humbly to the bed to assume the position for vastly more humiliating events to happen to his ass, thighs, and balls. Oh, and of course, his nipples as well.
Once he was firmly tied, the selection and application of fierce nipple clamps to his very sensitive nubbins was a great pleasure for her. They would need to be replaced several times before she was satisfied, each fierce pinch making him groan and his cock leap.
Then she would mount his head and his world would narrow radically. The last thing he would see for several hours was her perfect womanly ass descending over his face. She would sometimes change positions during his spanking, offering her anus to be tongue fucked as a respite from the cunnilingus he was usually called on to perform. He loved the sheer dirtiness of being forced to lick and penetrate her nether orifice with his tongue. He also appreciated that each bout of anilingus would make her next orgasm arrive more quickly, cutting short at least one of his spankings.
These would usually begin with a leather paddling of his freshly spanked buttocks until she reached her first climax. This usually required barely a minute since she would be powerfully turned on by having spanked and fucked his ass to an orgasm. That would mean a second fiercer paddling with a wooden paddle, upping the ante as his ass would be rapidly approaching sizzling heat. Then a strap or two would be applied to the backs and inner aspects of his thighs, introducing a new region to the joys of corporal punishment.
Next, perhaps a switch would be employed to revisit his ass and thighs first with its linear lightning bolts of liquid pain. His switching would end in a nice long conversation between the pliable wood and the tender crevices diving his crotch, thighs, and ass. She loved how violently his butt cheeks would quiver as the inviolate nether cleavage they were supposed to guard felt the searing agony of the switch down its infinitely sensitive center line. Only then would the spoon be taken up and applied to his imprisoned testicles. If she was feeling frisky, he might be made to get her off for each part of his ball spanking. The first portion would be administered with the hollow of the spoon, delivering an even superficial sting to the scrotal skin. Then the back of the spoon would be applied, rendering a deeper, more visceral pain to the underlying testes.
Finally, she would reverse the spoon and hold it by its bowl and spank both of his balls with the handle. This always made him scream the loudest into her muffling crotch until he ended his torments by getting her off one last time.
Then it would be time for her to vault off of his head and don her strap on. She had a special apparatus that had a vibrating leather triangle that would cover her crotch and that sported plastic attachment points on both its inner and outer aspects.
The inside point allowed her to screw on a small curving dildo that would hit her G spot perfectly, sandwiching her sexual core between it and the vibrating leather patch that would stimulate her clitoris more intensely the harder she fucked him. The outer point accepted a variety of screw-on dildos of different sizes and shapes. Her recent favorite had been one built from a mold she’d had taken of his own cock in full erection. The female technician who had done this mold seemed to enjoy his mortification as his Mistress made him strip and fondled his genitals to bring him to full erection for the procedure.
The idea of her handsome husband fucking himself seemed to amuse the statuesque blonde whose fierce way of loving him so totally obsessed our hero. And soon he would be groaning anew as his own large prepuce forced its way past his anal ring and his ass fucking began in earnest. She would plow his rear furrow with great enthusiasm until she came at least twice, delighting in making him scream with the intensity of her sodomy.
Then the word would be spoken that he could come with her permission. Her strong cool hands would apply a large dollop of lube to his avid cock and aching inflamed balls. She would jerk off the former while intensely massaging the latter until he would achieve a monumental climax, spewing his seed over his sweaty abs and chest.
All of these prospects for the evening ahead raged through our hero’s inflamed mind as he walked the several steep blocks from his office to their high rise. The doorman greeted him with formal friendliness while ushering him into the elevator. The twenty floor ride to their penthouse seemed to him very much like the slow ascent before the initial drop of a roller coaster.
He entered their foyer and as commanded removed all of his clothing to leave in their cloakroom so he could enter their private domain in the naked condition she always required of him. One last deep breath centered him as much as possible as he entered the code for their front door and walked inside to head to the bathroom as instructed. Once preparations there were complete, he tapped on their meditation deck door where he knew his Mistress would be awaiting him.
One final deep breath as she stood to embrace him tenderly, and down the roller coaster plunged into yet another fierce gem of erotic intensity as he had one final thought:
“I wouldn’t be anyone or anywhere else in the whole universe right now!”