By toy

I always feel anxious. My anxiety begins the night before I am to see
her. My mind begins anticipating the cruel delights that she will inflict
on me. I recall what she has done to me in the past, how she makes me
writhe, how she makes me scream or moan. Her laugh is forever imprinted on
my soul. I almost never get much sleep the night before, and last night
was no different. Each memory feeds into anticipation, and my body squirms
as if it were already being manipulated under her hand.

I awaken early. I always make extra efforts to groom myself in ways
that I hope she will notice, in ways that would please her. I know she
likes a well-groomed pet, and I never want to disappoint. Getting a fresh
razor, I start my ritual by shaving my balls. I know that she will be
torturing me there, and having a nice smooth surface will maximize my
torment. My skin will be extra sensitive so I will experience her
ministrations to their fullest effect. Making sure my balls are completely
hairless, I trim my pubic hairs very short. I used to shave my mound
completely for her, but now I leave a little wisp of hair, about the width
of my cock, that trails off into bare flesh by my navel. The rest of my
mound is smooth. I shave around my nipples as well, knowing that she will
torture these nubs mercilessly. I scrape the hair off of most of my pecs,
but again leave a patch of shortened hair in the valley between them. I
hope the effect is one like a nicely groomed pet, eager to please his
Mistress.

I sometimes have enough time to prepare my anus for whatever she
demands of it. I have time today, so I administer two enemas, the second
one yields clear liquid, so I feel satisfied that I will be clean for her.
I know this isn't necessary. If she wants to torture me in my rear cavity,
she will also give me a cleansing, but this way I know that I will be
thoroughly prepared for her. The rest of my morning routine is fairly
normal, except that I take twice the time to clean and scrub. She deserves
nothing less than a well kept slave.

Today I will put on something special for her, something she has seen
and used on me before. I take out of my drawer my most solid piece of
underwear. By solid I mean stainless steel. It is a male chastity belt. I
only wear it when I know she will be seeing me, for she holds its two
keys. I slide my penis into the constricting tube that grasps it firmly.
It is designed to allow my soft cock into it, but once in, it will take a
firm tug to dislodge it. It also will not allow my cock to get even
semi-erect. I fuss with the tube for a minute, but eventually my cock is
trapped in the proper position. I take the rest of the belt, and wrap it
around my waist. One thing about this belt, it forces me to stay on a
proper diet. If I gain just a couple of pounds, I feel the tight pressure
of the belt conforming my middle to its thirty inches of circumference.
Once the belt is in place, I reach for the shield attached to the rear of
the belt by two chains. I pull it under my crotch, and lock the penis tube
unto it, and then lock the shield to the front of the belt. Now I can no
longer touch my penis. Because of the design of the belt, I can do all
other bodily functions, except for becoming erect, and, of course, cumming.
I will have to see her now, or I will not be able to remove the belt until
I do.

I pull on the rest of my clothes, and try to go about the rest of the
morning as normally as possible, which is extremely hard, since my
upcoming encounter with her is constantly in my mind at some level.
Finally, about an hour and a half before I am to see her, I excuse myself
from work for the day. I am leaving especially early today, because I want
to get her something special. I stop off at Noir Leather in Royal Oak, and
after looking at the various BDSM-wares, I purchase a weighted stainless
steel ball stretcher. Really, it is two stainless steel semi-circles
fastened together by recessed hex screws. When put together is fits
tightly around the neck of the scrotum, and if worn for extended lengths
of time will stretch the ball sac downward. It also comes in handy for
keeping the balls nice and stretched for CBT. I am sure that she will love
to add this to her collection of toys. My second stop is a wine shop.
Since it is a very hot July day, I select a nice semi dry white wine that
has already been chilled. Mistress likes white wine.

Purchases in hand, I begin my drive into Detroit. I am never sure of
how long it will take to get to her dungeon, since the roads are either
under construction or covered with snow, but today, I make fine time, and
get to her neighborhood a good fifteen minutes early. I am not sure what
is a worse feeling getting to the neighborhood too early, or running a
little late. If I am early, as I am now, I know I can't just show up on
her doorstep, so I drive around for ten minutes, all the while my heart
pounds in anticipation. That is the hard part of coming early: the extra
rush of adrenaline that being so close to her produces in me. On the other
hand, running late is simply awful. No, driving around the neighborhood
for several minutes is much better than running late.

At exactly the appointed hour, I pull into the driveway, and walk to
the front door. The front yard has been transformed into a very nice
looking garden. I wonder who did the planting, and who does the weeding?
Was it Mistress, or was it some slave, or maybe even slaves? I pass
through the garden, and up the wooden stairs to the front porch. Taking a
deep breath, I knock on the door. After what seems and eternity, but
probably is more like a half minute the door opens a crack, "Come in
pet."

Coming into the entryway, I take in the stunning beauty of my Mistress.
She is about 5'4" and very firm. I take in Mistress' well-defined
body packed into new, black leather corset that looks as though it had
been stitched together on her. A pair of black knee-high platform boots
completes her ensemble. Mistress' dark brown hair is the perfect frame for
her ice blue eyes, and her smile conveys a wicked mischievousness.

I am so awestruck by my mistress standing before me that I can hardly
speak. "What's in the bag, pet?" my Mistress asks.

"I brought you some wine, Mistress, and a new toy. Maybe you can
use it in our session, if it fits with your plans."

After I strip down to my chastity belt, my Mistress orders me to serve
her wine. As I uncork the bottle, my Mistress coos over the new toy. I
know then that I will give it to her. I would give my Mistress anything
that pleases her that is in my power to give.

Mistress finds the key to my chastity belt and my cock is once again
free from its confines, and it springs to life. "You are in for the
ride of your life, pet."

Mistress blindfolds me, and then attaches the new metal ball weight
around the neck of my ball sack, and I am very aware of its pull on my
testicles. As I am adjusting to the new sensations, Mistress slides a
waist cincher around me, and pulls it very tight as I was beginning to
slip into sub-space. I had always wanted to have my waist cinched, and now
it was happening. Mistress inserts ear plugs, and tops them off with some
head phones ... the old style that completely surround the ears. By now my
senses have been completely deprived ... that is except for the sense of
touch, and that last sense would soon be overloaded.

Mistress lays me down on top of her wooden cage. This cage doubles as a
torture table, and I was about to demonstrate its secondary role. I am
aware of ropes going over me, around me, strapping my limbs and torso to
the evil piece of furniture. Once I am complexly immobilized, I feel a
prick of sharp pain on one of my sides. Then I feel another, a little bit
lower, and I am aware that my skin is being pinched and held tight. Is it
needles that Mistress is using? It feels as if she's pricking along both
sides of my penis with a series of needles. Then, she proceeds along my
inner thighs, and then, a few more for my nipples. Now there is one on my
lips, holding them together, and then another next to it. Is she sewing
them shut? My mind races, and I feel slightly frightened, but extremely
turned-on. Now there is one on my ball sac ... and another ... and
another. How many needles is she using? Twenty? Thirty? I have lost count,
but I am aware of all the little points of pain surrounding me. Then it
occurs to me, these aren't needles ... these are clothespins ... Oh what
tricks the mind plays on me when my eyes and ears are taken away!

Then I feel Mistress take my cock, and holding it up, I feel it being
invaded. She is fucking my tiny hole with a metal sound. I feel it slide
down, past the muscle under my head, past the muscle at the bottom of my
shaft, and I feel it pressing against my prostate. Now I feel two more
pricks of pain, Mistress must be using clothespins to keep my pee hole
closed around the intruding sound. I feel violated, but that is not the
end of Mistress's game, no, not by a long shot. Through the earplugs, and
through the headphones, I hear the whir of electricity that I have known
so well in the past. Mistress is taking a violet wand, and is beginning to
scorch my chest, my nipples, and my stomach. I begin to squirm, but my
bonds keep me relatively still. She comes in close to my nipples and
really zaps them hard and long as I toss my head from side to side,
fighting to keep from screaming. Then she uses the insidious wand to rake
my balls and charges the metal ring, shooting a circle of agony around my
balls. I let out a deep moan that comes from the bottom of my throat. Now
the wand is running up the underside of my shaft, and I really begin to
sing the song of pain, but I know the worst is yet to come. Mistress takes
the wand, and uses it to zap the metal sound still pinned within my rod
and now the inside of my cock is being charged with unrelenting shocks of
angry electricity. My song is now very loud, and very guttural. Even
though I am blindfolded I can see splashes of white and purple and red.
Despite the ropes, my body spasms. My mind is lost in the primal state of
raw animal pain.

I don't know how long Mistress tormented me with her violet wand ...
five minutes? Ten? I completely lost track of time, as my mind could only
process the sweeping tides of torture. Eventually, I notice the shocks
have stopped, and I feel my skin popping as clothes pins come off.
"Thank you Mistress ... thank you Mistress," is all I can say.

I am untied, and am laid on my back on the floor. Mistress takes my
wrists, cuffs them and ties them to the base of her St. Andrew's cross.
Now my ankles are being spread. I must look like a human shadow of the
cross my hands are bound to. Now that I am secure, Mistress attaches her
heaviest nipple clips to both of my nipples, and also to my balls. Then I
feel her flogger... I feel it on my chest, my nipples, and then I feel it
on my extremely sensitive balls. I am being strapped, and the intensity is
getting harder by the stroke. Soon, she is focusing solely on my tender
balls, and I writhe uncontrollably despite myself. I have always wanted
Mistress to kick my balls, and today she is pleased to do just that. Kick
after kick pushes the air out of my lungs and across my already ragged
vocal cords. I sing a new song of anguish for my Mistress who relishes my
performance.

Now that I have been pushed to new limits of pain, Mistress frees me,
and leads me into her medical room. She encases me in a spandex mummy bag,
and shoves a hose into my mouth. At the end of the hose is a funnel, and I
know what is coming next. I have told my Mistress that I would gladly pay
for bottles of her pee. Mistress has trained me to crave every drop she
can produce, and now I am going to be rewarded with the entire contents of
her bladder. Mistress has been keeping herself hydrated, and with the wine
she drank, she pees for what seems to be an eternity. I suck it as fast as
I can, but need to stop the hose with my tongue so that I don't lose a
drop, but in the end I swallow it all. Mistress is very pleased, and so am
I. I would gladly give up all other drinks if I were given the pleasure of
only drinking Mistress's nectar.

Finally, I am released. "Put on your chastity belt pet. No orgasm
for you today ... maybe in a few weeks." I put on the belt, happy to
suffer blue balls for my Mistress.

Driving home, I am content. My mind is clear, my body re-energized, and
my cock is tucked away in its prison. Sitting in the traffic, I am deeply
aware of how much control she has over me ... I am addicted to her, and I
will return. I must. She has the keys. in the traffic, I am deeply aware
of how much control she has over me ... I am addicted to her, and I will
return. I must. She has the keys.