Gay Erotic Stories

Chapter 9 - Bound to Be Good Thanks to my Uncle Bert, who was intent on teaching me even from the grave, there I was, hanging by my wrists, naked as the day I was borne, with a six nine Amazon in a black cat suit holding a whip and standing over me like an avenging Satan. I knew she was programmed by Uncle Bert to make me submit and that my control over her would not work during my training. He wanted me to learn the pleasure of submission. Was I frightened? Bet your sweet ass I was! "Here, little wimp. Suck on this!" she commanded, sticking the whip handle in my mouth cross ways, like a dog with a bone. I watched the magnificent sway of her ass as she walked from the room, leaving me there alone. I quickly learned one cannot swallow properly with a heavy whip handle in one's mouth. The saliva started dripping down my chin in sticky ropes. I could feel the tension in my calves from being forced on remain on tip toes. I am sure Diana wanted the tension to build in me, for the fear to grow like a fungus in a dead log, until I was quaking just from the thought of her and her not-so-tender intentions. What did FDR say? "We have nothing to fear but fear itself." As I looked around, the fear fell away, leaving me wondering about other things. I wondered if any of Diana's staff was programmed like she was, and, how, exactly, her programming interfaced with mine. I was thinking about Andy's programming, concerned as to her reactions and about what the mistress was doing right now to my beloved sex goddess. I must admit I created a few lovely fantasy pictures of Andy as I hung there. I did not realize Diana had returned until she yanked the whip from my mouth. She was watching me intently as she laid the first lash across my stomach. It stung but did not really hurt. In fact, it felt good in some ways as blood rushed through me and the skin got hot. It itched and tingled. Why good feelings outweighed the bad, I learned in Whips 101 several days later. Whips 101 was followed by all the other courses, Clamps 201, Dildos 201 and 202, etc., required to earn a D.D. degree: Doctor of Dominance, Professor of Pleasure and Pain. Good morning. Dr. Dave, at your service. Pull off your panties and get on the examination table. The doctor is in... and out... and in... Diana was behind me now. The whip came across my ass and upper thighs, stinging. I squirmed. More than anything, it was an itch I could not scratch. She continued tantalizing me. I felt the heat and the tingling but it was doing nothing for me sexually. Diana removed the leather g-string, staring into my eyes as she massaged my cock. "I know you can control yourself. You are suppose to be natural," she said, noting my cock was as soft as a baby's ass. "I am being natural. This is not it for me," I replied. She gave me a grin, walked away and returned with a riding crop. "Let's try something else," she said evilly. "Let's not." She did not listen to me. She only hit me six times with the riding crop over the next half hour or so. Diana used the crop to reinforce her hands and the mental images she built as she squeezed, podded and poked me. Like I said, it was not my bag. Finally, she realized that. "I am through, Davy," she said as she removed the chains from my wrists. My arms began to throb as I shook them to return circulation. I put on the robe she gave me. "Would you like some tea?" she asked in her crisp British accent. I accompanied her to a small, pretty room done in soft pastels and a far cry from the black of her dungeon. She removed her mask to reveal a pretty and surprisingly sweet face. We drank tea and ate finger sandwiches as we talked about domination. Since Andy and I had been separated when training began, I asked about her. ”Let's go see her, shall we?" I said I would like that. "Control yourself," Diana said. "Don't over react." When she opened the door, I heard Andy's voice, "God NOOO! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME!" I ran through the curtains into the room. Andy, my beautiful beloved, was naked and restrained by her wrists and ankles. Her feet were in something that looked like an alpine ski boot, holding her foot in place against a board (like a ski). The device could be adjusted by the dominatrix so the width between Andy's legs could be varied. Her wrists were secured in leather and chained to the ceiling. She was squirming, screaming, her eyes wide and frightened, her face red. She was twisting and turning, trying to get down. She collapsed in her bondage and began to sob. Damn, she looked good and my prick was stone in an instant. Should I describe Andy to you... again? I really never get tired of that, you know. She is the most beautiful and sensual woman I have ever known, with a 35D -23 -36 figure that Jenny McCarthy would die for. She has a wild, sensual face with huge blue eyes, full lips like Kim Basinger, and long blonde hair. She is my wet dream. And, as she hung in bondage, she was so desirable I thought my cock would explode. I felt Diana touch the end of my throbbing cock. She whispered, "See. You are dominant. Walk up to Andy. Ask her what she wants." "Andy. Andy! What do you want?" "Davy? DAVY! HELP ME! THEY WON'T LET ME CUM! PLEASE! Davy, get the whip. Hit me across the thighs, high up, near my pussy. Please, Davy. I NEED TO CUM SO BADLY!" She was sobbing again. I stroked her magnificent breasts, feeling the nipples huge and hard between my fingers. She moaned from deep in her gut as her hot eyes burned into me. The dominatrix working with Andy approached, whip in her hand. She flicked the whip across her thighs and lower belly. I could see red marks rising but, by then, I knew she was not in a lot of pain. I mean that I had just been hit harder than that. Again and again, the whip flicked as Andy groaned in exquisite agony. "YES! THANK YOU, MISTRESS! YES! YESSSSSSS, OH GOD. YES. WHIP ME. WHIP ME. I'M CUMMMMMMINNGGGGGGG." Her pussy started pumping lubrication. You could literally see it spurt. Her back was arched as far as it would go, her arms hard behind her, her head back, tits pointed upward. She screamed again like a demon from hell and passed out. The staff quickly got her down. "Fabulous reaction, David. Just wonderful. It is uncommon for anyone to be able to orgasm that strongly. I bet she is a wonderful partner," Diana said. "Wonderful," I agreed, still dazed by her performance. "Well," Diana said, "since you are obviously dominant and she is obviously submissive, we should be able to provide the two of you with enough information and skills for a lifetime of loving. Shall we go see her?" Andy was still out, laying on a bed as I sat by her. Finally, her eyes fluttered. "Oh, Davy, I loved it," she mumbled. I wish everyone who likes B&D, everyone who likes sex, could take Mistress Diana's training. The purpose of B&D, like the purpose of all sex, is to provide each party with strong, deep and real physical, emotional and psychological releases of great intensity. Diana taught us some people really get off on pain. It was quickly clear Andy and I were not those people. But, Andy did get off on submitting to me, surrendering herself to her man, feeling helpless and controlled. Allowing her man to dominate allowed her to fully release. As Diana said, Andy fully released any way, so we were talking about degrees of intensity. The pain she enjoyed was a counterpoint to her pleasure, delaying the orgasm or providing additional stimulation. Take nipple clamps, for example. Andy has big, beautiful, erect and very sensitive nipples. We tried every kind of nipple clamp there is. The Japanese clover clamp provided too much pain, keeping her from enjoying sex. The alligator clamps the same way. What turned sweet Andy on was a simple screw clamp or other pressure device by which nipple pressure could be exactly regulated by me to make her tingle and be aware but not ache. For example, one night before going out after our training, I put tiny rubber bands around each erect nipple. Her hard nipple pulsated all night, sending electrical charges right to her pussy. "That's it! I cannot stand any more," she said as we walked along Broadway on our way back to the hotel from a play. She was sweating, shaking with desire. She hailed a cab and jumped in. By the time, I took my seat, she had her dress up, her panties off and was fingering herself. ”Fuck me, Davy. Now!" It was not a request. She lay back and brought her legs up. I knee-walked between them and slammed into her hot and sopping pussy. She orgasmed in three strokes. This caused somewhat of a problem. My fault, not hers. The first problem was I forgot to program her to be quiet when she orgasmed. You know what that means. She screamed like a banshee. And, the cab windows were down. People walking along the sidewalk were treated to: "OH, SHIT! RAM THAT BIG COCK UP ME... GIVE IT TO ME... HARDER... HARDER... FUCK ME... FUCK ME... FUCK MEEEEEE!!!!!!" in a voice that would shatter glass. The second problem was we started fucking as soon as we got in the cab. We never told the driver where to go. So, we were parked at curb side throughout the whole fucking thing. Then, she yanked her dress down to remove the nipple bands. We realized these problems when we heard applause. Approximately a hundred people were peering into the cab watching our sidewalk show. Andy turned beet red and slid to the floor. When we finally got into our room, we could not stop laughing and we both admitted being watched was a turn on for us. Needless to say, the cab was not the only time we fucked that night. Then, one night, near of the end of our time with her, Mistress Diana invited us to a B&D ball, a big event in the New York bondage scene. I went in skin tight leather pants, shirt and boots. I thought I looked good, but Andy was a wet dream. She wore a locking black leather G-string with a thong back, black leather, thigh-high boots with six inch heels, a thick, locking black leather collar with a leash attached to the O-ring in front, a leather blindfold, and a small bell dangling from each nipple. Her nipples were not pierced. This was clip-on jewelry. Her arms were bound behind her at the wrists and elbows, pulling the arms back in a straight and locked position. This thrust her huge breasts out beautifully. I oiled her entire body in a perfumed oil. I was playing with her nipples in the little coat room at the club in which I had finished dressing her. She was already very needy. "Master," she whispered, her eyes bright. "Yes, Andy." "Can I ask something of you, one promise, please? I know I don't have the right to ask, but... " "What is it?" I was puzzled. "Don't let any other man have me, Davy. Please. I want to be only for you." Spoken in a whisper, it was almost a prayer. "Never, Andy. Never." I kissed her with all my might, fighting back tears of joy. With that body and that costume, she was the hit of the evening. She also got very, very aroused from being exposed like that. No one but I touched her but people made all sorts of compliments and comments on her, turning her and me, on even more. She was getting very wild. "Davy? Davy?" she whispered. I did not answer. She had been instructed to call me master all evening. "Damn it! Master!" "Yes, my little slut slave," I responded. ”We need to leave." "I say when we leave, slave. What is your problem?" She tried to find my ear to whisper into it but I kept moving away. She was frustrated indeed. Finally, she just blurted out, "We need to leave because I need to be fucked." "They have a stage where masters fuck their slaves. Let's fuck here!" I could see it eating at her. Her natural ladylike proclivities clashed with her exhibitionist tendencies and her sexual needs. Her programming to be shameless with me conflicted it even more. Tears flowed from under the blindfold. She was in mental anguish. "I will be a good master," I said. "I will fuck you now on stage, or, you can wait two hours until we get home." "No," she moaned. I made sure my hands were busily stimulating her. Andy was in hell, but a nice hell, as the sexual needs fought her other emotions. Ten minutes later she whimpered, "Please, master, lead me to the stage." The stage was raised so everyone could see. They had a "horse," a sawhorse-like contraption where slaves could be bound. I bound her face down by spreading her legs and attaching her ankles to the horse. I bent her over it, holding her in place by chaining her collar to it. I removed her G-string. "Please," she begged. "Beg loudly and clearly, slave." "FUCK ME WITH THAT BIG COCK OF YOURS, MASTER!" she screamed. There were approximately two hundred and fifty people in the ballroom, all dressed in fetish clothing, all having a good time. The room got deathly quiet. "They all are watching me, aren't they?" she whispered. "Yes, little slut. They are." God, I love Andy. She is everything I ever dreamed about. She wiggled her ass seductively. "Well, let's give them a show, then," she said. I slammed into her. "YES... YES... GOD! I'M CUMMMINNNGGGG" She began to buck and thrust back against me, obviously in a wild orgasm. I let her float for a minute. Even I was surprised, when she screamed, "NOW, MASTER. STICK YOUR MONSTER IN MY SWEET ASS!!!" Andy screamed and hollered throughout a long and not gentle ass fucking, orgasming at least twice before I blew a load in her. The applause was thunderous. I removed her blindfold so she could see her audience. She bowed like a Broadway star. We won a trophy for her effort as best show of the night and they gave us a wonderful video of the whole thing. We laughed about it for months. The time with Diana was well spent. Since Andy and I progressed so rapidly, we finished our two-week session in ten days. We spent four days seeing museums and hitting the plays before we went to San Francisco.