Chapter 22

I heard the front door close behind them and their limo pull away. I was still sitting there when Janey and Sally came in to say 'Good night.' I sat there all through the night and into the next day.

Sally brought me breakfast, set the tray down, and left in silence. She picked it up later, the food untouched. She looked at me strangely, but didn't say a word. Lunch was the same way. Janey brought me dinner. She force-fed me a bite or two, but that was all I could eat. I felt their concern for me, but it was as if I was hovering above my body, watching a dull soap opera.

I had really screwed up. Big time. I had kind of figured out what it was, but I didn't have a clue why. I knew the relationship between Sally and me was evolving, changing and that there were going to be strains and stresses as we re-defined our respective roles within the new paradigm. Maybe it was going a bit faster than we were both willing to accept. I knew I had been unprepared for the responsibilities of my new role in the household, for which I still didn't have a label. I think that's what Amud had been talking about. I wasn't prepared. I hadn't been down 'the path', as he called it.

I spent a long time agonizing over what to do. The ball was definitely in my court. On the one hand, Sally had made it clear that she could accept it if I could not bring myself to put her in bondage, and not to be her 'Master.' But could I live with knowing that the woman I loved was being refused the thing that totally fulfilled her? I had seen, felt and experienced the explosive climax she'd had when I had tied her hands with the belt of her robe that one time. I had seen the basement and the evidence of her need for this.

The question was; 'how could I do something to her — safely — that I had never experienced?' I had absolutely no desire to experience it! How would I know the limits? In fact, there was a gripping terror in me when I thought about experiencing bondage myself. Just the thought of being restrained or confined gripped my very soul with terror to the point I couldn't breathe. For me, the thought of experiencing pain was even worse, which, given my prior profession, was somewhat curious. Still, I hate pain. So I brooded, trying to find a way out of the mess I had gotten myself, and us, into.

By late Wednesday night I came to a decision. Right or wrong, it was what I was going to do. At least it was doing something. I never was one to let life make my decisions for me. If something was going to go wrong, I wanted to be the one to screw it up. Go out with a bang, and the bigger the better.

I went into the bedroom I shared with Sally. She was still up. She watched in silence as I packed an overnight bag.

"I've missed you," was all she said.

I gently kissed her forehead, wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"I know. Me, too," I answered curtly.

I hesitated, almost changing my mind. She was so beautiful and alluring. My body wanted to slip into the bed beside her and make gentle love to her. But my mind could not ignore the fact that there were some issues that we, no, that I had to resolve. I forced myself to keep packing.

"Look, I have to do something, but I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. We'll talk then — if you want to. I promise." I looked at her sitting there. "I love you. I want you to know that."

"I know. I love you, too. We'll talk tomorrow. I'll be waiting."

I left and drove to a motel near the Rosen Clinic. Thursday I underwent Dr. Wang's procedure on my 'wang' and drove home. It really was painless, although I felt as if something was different.

During the hour-long surgical procedure tiny emitters were implanted in and around my penis and groin. A couple more were slipped just under my scalp at pre-determined locations over the parts of the brain that the Rosen's had determined to be where my pleasure centers were strongest. The end result was that by merely thinking about something erotic, I could bring my prick to an erection. It was all done with such small amounts of electricity that the devices were able to use from the bio-electrical discharges inside my body. It was a neat, self-sustaining system.

One of the more surprising features of the procedure was that I could control when my little swimmers were included in my ejaculate; a kind of variable vasectomy. That was one less worry where Janey was concerned. I was still undecided about actually fucking her, but if I did, I sure as hell didn't want a teenage pregnancy to completely ruin her life.

It took about three hours for them to go through all the features of my new accessories and for me to practice them. When I was satisfied that I could control myself, I left them with my sincere thanks and the news that Dr. Wang's paperwork was already being processed. He could expect an answer within seven working days. I had sent his and his daughter's papers to Judge Hawthorne's office last week for processing. Dr. Wang looked at me in disbelief, then to Dr. Rosen. She simply beamed at him and nodded in confirmation. He was hugging his daughter and they were weeping for joy when I left.

Sally was waiting for me when I got home. She met me at the door, but instead of greeting me with a kiss, she knelt before me as a servant. My heart hurt at her subservience. Not that she gave it, but that I wasn't worthy of receiving it from her.

That point was at the center of the issue was between us. She loved me, I loved her. That was not in question. She had submitted to me. She needed to be totally committed. She needed me to be totally committed, as well. We both knew I wasn't, and thus there was still an element of fear in her submission. She was not afraid that I would intentionally harm her. She knew that if I ever did harm her physically, I would curl up and die of shame and guilt. What she feared was that I would hurt her unintentionally, and not just physically. That was because in terms of what we were entering into, I was just plain stupid and ignorant. I had no idea of her limits. I didn't know the path, as Amud called it, or where it went or why.

I was determined to change that. I had to take away her fear — and my own terror, as well. To do that, I had to 'experience the path' myself, as Amud had said. It had taken me a long time to figure out what he meant. I may be slow, but I get there eventually. It took even longer to admit to myself that I could do what he meant. But I think I had always known what I would have to do and that, eventually, I would do it. My own unfounded terror held me back, almost to the point of losing Sally. But it was what I had to do, terror or no.

I knelt down beside Sally right there in the hallway by the front door. I took her hand and turned it palm up. I kissed it lovingly, knowing it would soon be causing me much pain. Then I placed the key to the dungeon in her hand. She closed her fist around it slowly. I think she thought I was rejecting that side of her, that I was closing that door.

Without a word to her, I put my wrists together in front me and presented them to her as if for binding. I bowed all the way down in front of her, my head to the ground. I stayed that way for a long time. I intended to stay that way until she released me.

I heard her gasp as she realized what I was doing. To her credit, she did not question if I was crazy. I would have had to say that I probably was at that exact moment. I heard her get up and leave, going down to the dungeon. After a time, she returned.

"I have to ask. Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes." I could barely talk for fear.

"Do you want a safe word?"

She had told me all about safe words, those escape clauses for submissives who weren't really sure of their Master or Mistress. Sally had never asked for one before she subjected herself to me, even with her fears. She'd had one with Gary, but he never honored it.

"No. You'll know," I said.

"You realize this may take some time," she said.

She bent and slipped a leather hood over my head. The only openings were for my nostrils and a zipper over my mouth. I was completely blind and deaf when wearing the hood. She laced it tightly behind my head, pulling the thick leather smooth and tight around my head. I heard a bit of static, then a "click" and her voice, tinny from the cheap speakers, was in my ears.

"Stand and strip."

I struggled to my feet, slightly disoriented by the hood. Pins and needles shot though my legs as the blood flow was re-established. I had been on my knees a long time. I had not groveled that much lately and wasn't used to the position. I took off my clothes and dropped them on the floor. I stood before her naked when I finished. I didn't know what to do with my hands and they kind of flopped around, very much like the limpness I was experiencing in another part of my body.

"What am I supposed to do, pick up after you? Fold them neatly!" I felt a sudden horrendous pain in my left buttock emphasized this last command. It was my first taste of what was to come and it was biting and bitter. I almost shit, but I was afraid I would have had to clean that up, too.

I jumped and hopped around trying to avoid any more blows. The zippered hood muffled the yelp I let out, but it was still loud in my ears. When the pain subsided, I bent to pick up my clothes. This was no easy task, as I had moved when I jumped around. My clothes were no longer in my immediate vicinity. I had to get down on my hands and knees and conduct a grid search of the hallway before I found the last sock. I suspect she was moving some of the clothes around, keeping them from me, as I would swear I had twice searched the area where I finally found the last piece hiding. Regardless, I retrieved them all and was able to place a neatly folded bundle before her feet. Or where I imagined her feet were.

"Stand."

I stood.

I felt a strap being placed around my penis, down by the base. It looped once between my penis and scrotum, then again behind my sac. A last strap bisected my sac in two, one nut on each side. Then the whole thing was tightened until I thought my balls would burst. I felt a click of metal on metal and then a firm tug on my balls, urging me forward. I nearly fell over.

"If you want to keep them attached, you had better learn to follow when I tug on your leash." A harder tug followed, and so did I, quickly, if a bit awkwardly.

We descended into the basement. I assumed we were headed for the dungeon. I was correct.

I felt my wrists wrapped tightly with what felt like stiff leather cuffs. Then they were lifted over my head. I strained, standing on my toes to keep in touch with the ground for as long as possible before I lost even that touch with reality. I felt her push against one side of me and my equilibrium went haywire. I was spinning with no points of reference. Vertigo set in quickly and I was totally disoriented. I vomited into the helmet and the fluid ran down between the mask and my face, dripping down my chest. The smell was awful.

An icy cold torrent of water beat against my body. She must have had a fire hose installed down there, there was so much water. She focused on my head and chest, rinsing away the vomit. I was torn between being thankful for the smell being gone and the terror of drowning in the hood. I also learned how to drink through my nose when this was going on, if involuntarily, something I would not suggest to anyone.

Then nothing happened. I mean it. She must have left the room. I just hung there by my wrists. I didn't know if I was still spinning or not. I had no recollection of time, other than my heartbeat. Under normal circumstances, I could estimate time by my regular resting pulse. I had always maintained a resting pulse of about 60. But these were not normal circumstances and my heart rate seemed faster than normal. I had no way of telling how long I hung there.

More time must have passed than I thought. The water I had ingested had worked its way through my system and was now ready to exit. I had to piss, but I couldn't. Call it pride, stubbornness or whatever I didn't want to urinate when I couldn't see where it was going. I don't think psychologists have ever figured out that peculiar fascination a man has with watching himself pee. It stays with a man from the time he is a little boy. Maybe it has to do with being able to write his name in the snow. I don't know. I just know I didn't want to let go while I was blinded. I focused on blocking out the urgent messages I was receiving from my bladder.

The first savage pain hit just below the back of my neck. It was a thin fiery strip of heat that stretched from one shoulder to the other. One end of the painful strip of fire curled into my armpit, as my arms were held over my head. The following blows descended slowly down my back, each one slightly lower than the previous one. I fought the pain, resisted giving in to it. I hated the pain, the whip. I began screaming when the first blows landed on the backs of my thighs. The pains continued. Not even the soles of my feet were spared that painful lash.

I had been hanging for so long that I didn't even try to move my feet or kick to avoid the lash. Moving caused more pain in my shoulders, arms and wrists than the whipping did so I just hung there, screaming.

The pain on the front parts of my feet, across the tops of my toes alerted me to the beginning of the next round. My screams raised several decibels in volume and, as the lash curled around my tender testicles, rose several octaves in sheer panic. No part of me was spared the lash. I was sobbing uncontrollably when it stopped, the pain in my groin agonizing, excruciating.

At some point I had voided my bladder and my colon, soiling myself, the yellow fluid and stinky solids streaming down my legs and pooling below me. I could smell the acrid human smell of urine and shit even through the hood. It had the smell of fear.

I was not broken or submissive. I was mad. My anger was palpable. I roared into the hood; into the stillness of the dungeon; to myself. Sally had left me alone again, hanging over my own pile of shit.

I don't know when I awoke. I didn't remember falling asleep. I couldn't get my bearings at first, didn't remember where I was. The sudden burst of fresh pain broke through the haze of sleep shrouding my brain. Pain came in multiple points, many stripes at once. I could feel the thuds of the knots on the ends of the straps solidly landing on my back and sides, sometimes wrapping clear around and impacting my chest. I screamed. I voided myself again. I fought the pain and humiliation. The agony grew in my back and in my spirit as the blows continued relentlessly.

I must have passed out when the lashes curled around my hip and the hard knots at the ends of the braided strands hit my unprotected, harnessed cock. I remember having a clear premonition of disaster as I felt the pain in one ass cheek but not the other and then I remember a split second when I thought that I would die, hanging there in a basement. Then — then ... there was nothing.

When I next came to, I was lying on my back on a hard surface. My hands were stretched out straight over my head, which was still hooded. My ankles were now cuffed and my legs were pulled straight out and held slightly apart. Something narrow and hard that felt like a two-by-four on edge was jammed under my butt, raising my pelvis above the plane of my body. That made my groin, and my bound cock and balls, the high point of my horizontal body.

What was confusing was that what I was feeling at that moment were the soothing hands of my lover moving over my aching body, tracing the angry red lines that I could only imagine were criss-crossing my skin. I felt moisture then coolness as the water evaporated. I responded to the soft caresses and my erection became the prominent point, lofting high and proud. What a foolish, vain and predictable organ. The constraining straps around the base of my cock tightened due to the expanding size as a result of the influx of blood into that area. The constriction increased to the point where the outflow was constrained more than the inflow. I would now have a permanent hard-on until the straps were loosened.

"Cum for me. Now!" My lover's voice was with me in my darkness, a tinny voice in my ears.

I tried. Even with Dr. Wang's improvements, I couldn't do it. I was still fighting the bondage. I couldn't find the path.

I felt the surface I was lying on begin vibrate. The tension in my arms and legs increased. I was slowly being stretched out. She had me on a rack. Never again would I underestimate the effectiveness of medieval torture techniques. An added twist of a lever or wheel elevated my pelvis area more, bowing me completely off the table with only a single contact point under my hips. I felt as if I would break if I were forced to bend backwards any more.

I was whipped on the frontal parts of by body from the tips of my toes to the tips of my fingers. Special attention was paid to my hands and arms, as they had been too high for Sally to reach when I was hanging by my wrists. Even my shielded face received several terrifying blows. Then I was left alone again.

I was beginning to hate being alone. Even to the point of looking forward to the pain, strange as that sounds. At least then I wasn't alone. I began reaching out to my tormenter in my mind. I knew, from my time with the State Department, that this was a classic response of kidnap and torture victims. What they hadn't told us was how helpless the victims were to resist that response. I had no choice but to try to curry the favor of my tormentor. The depth of my visceral response frightened me. I had to do it.

The tender touching was repeated, but this time I was given water to drink through a straw before it started. It was the first fluids I had had since I had been hosed off. The zipper over my mouth was opened, and a drop of water placed on my parched lips. I felt the straw and I sucked in as much as I could, as fast as I could. The first rush of cool water hit my stomach and I vomited. The acid taste of bile stayed with me, even after I was able to take in more water.

She hosed me off again, and then commanded me to cum again. When I couldn't, Sally moved away from me. The pain when she whipped me on my wet skin was even worse than before. I was unconscious when she stopped, but I had lasted a long time before I lost my senses. Longer than either of us expected me to, I would guess. I could feel her frustrations at my resistance to the pain, but I didn't know what to do to, how to help her.

It went like this without an apparent end. I was hung, tied, bent, whipped, stretched and then left alone. Then again. And then again. The pain and the loneliness eventually became secondary to the terror and the frustration I experienced when, at the initiation of each session, I heard that same whispered "Cum for me!" When I failed to please my Mistress, I was beaten senseless. The command was given again at the completion of each session, if I was still conscious.

When I was left alone, I continued the futile fight against the pain and the bondage. I could not, would not give into it. It was blackness and void. Terror. Unknown. I sensed in it a danger of deathly proportions. My very being, my spirit, the essence of who I was in my head, would not give itself up to that perceived evil that I sensed lurking in that darkness. I would not break. I could not. I was more afraid of that unknown than the pain.

I was delirious, too. I knew it. I was getting desperate, as well. In the back of my mind, I knew that if this did not work, I could and probably would lose the most precious thing I had ever known. I would lose the respect of Sally, if not Sally herself. In desperation, I did the only thing I could think of.

I surrendered not to the darkness, but to the Will of my Mistress. It was that simple. Why I hadn't thought of it before is an indication of my ignorance, I guess. Or how paralyzed I was by terror; or how much of a stubborn, prideful son-of-a-bitch I am. I couldn't give in to the darkness, but my Mistress was light. She was a guide into the unknown terror. With the last desperate thoughts of my sane mind, I surrendered myself to my Mistress.

I don't remember what happened after that, but Sally said she knew something was different as soon as she woke up from her catnap. I was resting peacefully in one of the more uncomfortable positions she had bound me into. I had stopped screaming, stopped fighting. When she gave me the command to ejaculate, I did. I don't remember. I was literally out of my mind.

I later learned that Sally had never me alone in the dungeon. She or Janey were always there. I had thought I had felt a different set of hands soothing me, but I wasn't sure. Only one set used the whips and caused me pain. But there had been two sets of hands that soothed me.

I remember little after my surrender. I was just there, floating. I know there was more bondage, more pain. But it was what my lover, my Mistress wanted, and I only hoped it gave her joy. That she wanted it was the only reason I needed to accept that she was giving it to me. I was hers totally. That time of total abdication of my will to Hers was the most peaceful time of my life that I can ever remember.

The last thing that happened, my final test, I guess, I do remember. Very well. My hands were bound tightly behind my back, my ankles and calves tied to my thighs with my knees forced wide apart. I was forced to kneel on the cold cement of the dungeon floor, which was still damp from my last 'bath'. I was tightly hooded, as I had been throughout the ordeal. I could not see or hear, but I could feel the footstep vibrations of other people walking around me. I cringed inside, beginning to fight the fear. But then I reached out and found that Mistress was there. I don't know how, but I could feel her, and I relaxed. What she wanted, I wanted.

The zipper over my mouth was opened and I was offered a drink. Then I felt something I had hoped to live my entire life without feeling. The warm solid flesh of a real cock was introduced to my mouth. It was a large one with a broad circumcised head. I froze.

A soft gentle voice came to my ears, my Mistress. "Cum for me, my love. Cum."

I blew my wad across the room and sucked the cock into my mouth. All for my Mistress, because She willed it. I was bobbing and sucking as best I could, trying to do all the things that I thought would feel good to me. For some reason, it was important to me that I do a good job at this vile task, to do the very best I could. It was as if the prestige of my Mistress was at stake. My performance would be her grade. I did my best, but I failed. The cock did not spew it's cum into my mouth. As it slipped out of my mouth, I cried out to let me try again, I would do better, I pleaded. Please...

A soft fingertip on my lips stilled my anguish and the zipper was closed. I bent forward in shame, awaiting my punishment for failing Her. My head rested on the ground. I thought I knew what was coming, but I was wrong. It wasn't the whip I felt on my ass. It was the head of that stiff cock wet with my own saliva being placed against the opening of my virgin ass. My head jerked up off the ground, my back arching in silent protest against this invasion. Gentle, soothing hands spread my ass cheeks and a cool substance was forced past the tightly clenched puckered ring.

I knew better than to resist, but to a completely straight male, this was almost more than I could take. I fought against this intrusion of my body by another male's member with every fiber of my being. In my current position, the only things I could move were my fingers. I clenched and unclenched them in utter frustration as the plumb-sized head of that solid phallus slipped past the straining muscular ring. Tears of frustration and humiliation filled the hood covering my head.

Mistress lightly took hold of my clenching hands with hers. I vented all my pain and frustration into that touch. I cried out my terror and revulsion to this homosexual act to her with my mind. She drew it all out of me. But the penetration didn't stop. I understood it was what She wanted. She knew that as much as the pain and bondage had been hard for me to accept from her, asking me to submit to this act was the ultimate test for me. I almost couldn't do it. I almost failed. I could still feel and taste the strange slipperiness of the male pre-cum in my mouth. It gagged me. And almost broke me.

I sensed the force of her gentle will surrounding me, comforting me. I relaxed into it, releasing into her the abject terror in my soul. I forced myself to swallow the residual male fluids that were still in my mouth. I forced myself to push back on that intrusive shaft, opening myself up to this rape, this homosexual coupling. I pushed back willingly, if not joyfully to meet the hard, frenzied thrusts until I felt the hot flooding of my colon. I had not failed my Mistress this time. I wept at the immense pleasure I felt at pleasing Her.

"Cum for me my love. Cum."

And I came. For Her.