“Good morning” she said, warmly, wrapping her arms around me as our mouths explored one another’s. It was several seconds before I registered that she was nude. Her hand reached down my front and through my jeans, examining my erection. Experienced hands worked my fly down and she soon had her fingers around my balls.

And she lead me to the bedroom.

“I’m not even going to make you beg,” she said to me, my eyes locked on hers. You may pleasure me.

And with that, she released my balls, lied down and spread her legs. I did not hesitate, attacking her clitoris with a thirsty tongue. Fingers from one hand pumped into her as the other hand found & fondled a breast. She came quickly. And spectacularly. I was quite proud of myself.

Her hand reached down had held my head in place, and I continued assulting her clitoris with the tip of my tongue, knowing that she wanted more than a single orgasm.

“Oh, my slut, we have a long day ahead of us, don’t you know, you’re going to wear yourself out.” and, with that, she closed her legs. I tried to play it off, but being suddenly restricted from eating her, well, it’s always difficult.

“Clothes off, chop chop,” she said before excusing herself from the bedroom to the bathroom. She returned to find my clothing in a neat pile, me on my knees, and my cock quite erect. “Just as I like you. Now, today is your day — I do hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“First, I want to treat you to a massage. Go, find the restraints, and tie your legs to the bed.”

I found “the bag” in its usual spot and withdrew an “under-the-mattress” restraining system: four cuffs. As she watched, I placed the long strap under the mattress and set up the four cuffs, ready to be spread-eagle on the bed.

“Which way, mistress?” I asked, not knowing how she wanted me on the bed.

A crop whistled through the air and made contact with my right butt cheek. Where the crop came from, I haven’t a clue, but something tells me that she had pre-planned much of the events of the day, and I shouldn’t spend too much time wondering what might be in store for me.

I jumped with the sudden impact.

“Oh, silly slut – a proper massage always starts with the back.”

The crop landed again, and again, and again, as I secured leather cuffs to my ankles. It was my own fault, I know — asking silly questions will always prompts a harsh response.

Once my ankles were secured, though, and I started to reach for the bond on my left wrist, the onslaught stopped. Tender fingers worked the buckles around each wrist. A blindfold found its way over my eyes. Loving, tender touches followed a generous stream of massage oil, and those fingers worked my shoulders, and on down my spine.

I was relaxed. Truly. Relaxed in a way that I am, honestly, uncomfortable being. I am always on edge, always in control, always reacting to a stressor. As she worked my back, there was no stress. There was simply the act her her pampering me, and it was bliss.

And then she split my butt cheeks.

“You need to relax, inside and out,” she whispered, sliding a heavily lubricated finger into my rectum. Slowly, the finger pumped inside and out as she laid down next to me. Her body pressed against my side and she started to press her body against my side in rhythm to finger-fucking. One finger became two, and, before long, two fingers became three. The third finger initiates a gasp, and she whispers “oh, I love it when you make noises.” before breaking contact with me.

I hear rustling, and I know what’s next . . . it feels like hours, but I know it’s, likely, only seconds, maybe a minute or two, before I feel hard plastic pressed against me, two fingers spreading my cheeks wide. I felt her body quivering, as I know watching that phallus, that is her strap-on, sliding into me may be up there with my tongue on her clit on that list of her favorite things.

She is as gentle as she can be, allowing me to push my hips into the bed, holding still so that I force the dildo in further as my own strength wanes. When her hips press against my ass, and I know I have the full length of her toy inside of me.

I felt her pushing down on my shoulders – it was obvious that she wanted to watch the phallus working into me, and our torsos were, simply, in the way. She pressed as hard as she could and gave me the instruction “ride it.” And with that, I threw my hips back, taking the full length time and time and time again, as she just pushed harder, further.

And then she was out of me, and the void was worse than the entry.

I longed for her to make contact with me, and my body trembled, involuntarily. Honestly, the sudden break left me nearly in tears. I was thankful for the blindfold.

With my left ankle first, she un-fastened each of the restraints and whispered “flip over.”

I complied, quickly, and soon as my ass hit the bed, my right-wrist was fastened to the bed. My cock, already aroused, grew even more stiff in anticipation.

And then her hand was on my cock, and I was in heaven.

Her massage-oil covered fingers interlocked around my shaft and her thumbs pressed against the underside. I sighed in absolute pleasure as she pressed her way up toward the head. One path met another and then another and then another. I felt a wave of an orgasm mounting from inside, but, apparently, so did she. Near-constant contact, again, was broken, and my longing was palpable. My body shuddered. My fingers, toes, head, hips, cock, tongue, all lashed out, trying to make contact with her. But she was out of my bound reach. Hip thrusts let my cock flip around, flopping between my stomach and empty air, but there was no contact.

“I want to fuck” she whispers.

I nearly cry for joy, “oh, thank you mistress,” and then I feel what appears to be a condom being rolled over my cock. It takes forever, but I hold still, thinking that a release is there.

But as soon as the device is on, and she climbs on, I cry out in frustration. It’s obvious that she’s enjoying herself, riding me like I’m a fucking bucking bronco — but I can’t feel a damn thing. Still, I get my kicks out of getting her off, so I play my part. My cock stays hard, and I like to think that the stiffer I am, the better it is for her – but, what the fuck is this device made of? Kevlar?

She grabs my shoulders and there is little doubt as to the amplitude of her orgasm. She collapses onto my body and I know I’ve slidden out of her only because I feel my cock flop.

She climbs off of me and I feel the sheath/condom/evil pleasure-denying-device being removed.

And then I’m unbound.

The room seem unbelievably bright as my blindfold is removed.

“Bath time” she announces, and, with her hand around my cock, she leads me once again.

I turn on the water and climb into the tub, spreading my legs wide. A moment later, she climbs between my legs, wriggling her ass against my hard cock.

I wash her hair, pouring cupfuls of water over her head before kneading shampoo in before pouring countless cupfuls of water over her hair once again. But as I rinse her hair, I kiss the back of her neck. Kissing the back of her neck leaves me no choice but to touch her breasts, and before long, I’m fingering her, making little circles around her clitoris with one hand while the other finger fucks her.

When she plants her feet against the far wall of the tub and arches her back into a yoga bridge, I know I’ve done my job.

She stands out of the tub, and I stand up, reaching for a towel to dry her off, but my cock is slapped. “I didn’t tell you to stand, slut,” she admonishes. And I head back into the warm water.

She takes a moment to dry herself off and then sits on the edge of the tub. “You’re a dirty, dirty boy, my slut,” she explains and reaches between my legs.

Soapy hands work my member, brutally slowly. Again, as I feel the push of my semen trying to work its way out, though, she knows . . . and explains that, nope, the water is getting cold, it’s time to get out.

I stand, nude, and she dries me off.

She barely touches my cock as she runs the towel over my body, though it throbs with each heartbeat.

“Sit down on the bed,” she explains, and, of course, I do.

I brush her hair as she plays on her phone.

“I do believe it’s time to tie you up, once again,” she explains. “On your back. Now. Chop chop,” and, of course, I comply.

She lowers her pussy onto my mouth, in a “69” position. I eat, hungrily, and she takes the very tip of my cock in her mouth, working that, back & forth. An orgasm catches her and I scream out — she’s bitten down in her euphoria.

My beard drenched in her juices and my cock still stiff, she’s, apparently, had enough, and climbs off of the bed. I think that it might *really* be “my time” when she says “oh, your poor balls, they must be blue.”

“They ache, mistress,” I explain, quasi-involuntarily thrusting my hips toward the ceiling. I watch her pull out a ball of rubber-bands and before I can process what might be in her plan, she has rubber bands around my scrotum and around each ball, isolating them in a bizarre tri-force sculpture.

The left one finds its into her mouth and she sucks and plays and . . . enjoys my gyrations until there is a knock on the door. My ball is out of her mouth & she’s out of the room.

“You got here quickly!” she says, excitement in her voice.

I can’t make out the next sounds, but I, distinctly, hear three voices — my mistress, a male, and a female voice. Neither of the latter two are known to me.

My mistress enters the room and she straddles my head. With her pussy right there, I, obviously, begin to tease her with my tongue while trying to keep an eye to the doorway. But, my vision is obstructed. She calls out “ok” and I hear people enter the room. “Fuck me, now,” my mistress explains, and I realize she’s not talking to me. His balls hit my head as he pumps into her, doggy-style. I continue trying to lick her clit, knowing full-well that I’m not always just tonguing her.

My mind wanders to the other female voice. She doesn’t make a sound.

In a time-period that seems far too quickly (but perhaps that’s because it’s been hours that I’ve yet to cum), he thrusts into her and his whole body shudders. I use the opportunity, knowing that he’s filling her as well as he can, to concentrate on her clit. She traces a single finger up the underside of my cock. I thrust my hip.

He leaves the room.

She climbs off my face.

I look up.

The other woman and she now walk toward me. I’m still bound. I watch as they both stick out their tongues and lick up the shaft of my cock. As they reach the tip of my head, their tongues meet, and they kiss. I thrust my hips toward their faces, but they both giggle, keeping just out of contact.

And then, I see why my balls are separated.

Each woman takes a testicle in her mouth, and I shudder in utter frustration, needing release. The ache of “blue balls,” at this point, is full-on pain.

And then, the fun starts.

One woman takes the head of my cock in her mouth, and, slowly, works on down, taking my full length into her. It feels wonderful – but it’s nowhere near fast enough to allow me release. As soon as one woman has me deep-throated, the trip back up, painfully slow, occurs, until she’s off my cock & the other one starts.

Minutes. Painful minutes, pass in this decadent torture.

Until I realize that they’re moving, gradually, faster.

And then my mistress simply sucks my cock. And I cum into her mouth.

And it is the greatest feeling in the world.

Honestly, I nearly pass out.

After I regain my composure for a second, my mistress is behind me, untying me. I see the woman putting on the strap-on. “My slut, you have a big thank you are going to have to work your way out of…”