My name is Billy and the story I am about to put to paper is true. It should serve as a warning to all men out there that think they want a thrill or adventure when in reality, that have a great life.
My life changed one day in 2005 when, after many years of fantasying about having an encounter with a dominant woman, I decided to act on my urge and made an appointment with a pro-dom, whom I found on the internet.
To set the stage, I need to back-up a bit. At the time, I was happily married and had been for 7 years. I had a normal sex life, but always had strong desires related to S&M and dominant women. I broached the subject with my wife early in our relationship, but her reaction made it clear that this part of my sex-life would not be included in our relationship.
Over the years, I merely visited some of the Femdom sites on the internet and sometime jerked off to what I saw during my surfing. But as time went by, I got more and more frustrated about this missing element in my sex life. That is when I decided to get it out of my system and proceeded to look for a professional that I would hire to give it a shot.
My initial thought was: “What’s the big deal? I am not going to cheat on my wife! They clearly all state that no sex is involved. Plus, she will never have to know. I will set my ground rules in such a way to make sure there are no marks and I will use a false name. So there really is no down-side.”
That was what I thought – reality turned out to be MUCH different.
I researched pro-doms in my area on the web for months. One day, I found a web-site for a lady by the name of “Mistress Michele”. She looked very attractive based on her pictures. I could not completely make out her face since she was wearing one of those party mask type things, but her figure was great and she seemed to be nice looking. In addition, her overall philosophy matched what seemed to turn me on. In her instructions, she stated that you could only reach her by email or phone that had a caller ID. She would not accept pay phone calls.
Since I was way hyper-sensitive about my identity, I set-up a fake email address and name on Google and proceeded to contact her. After several days, I finally got a reply. She told me that she would see new subs and what she charges. She also informed me that I would have to call from a caller ID phone in order to set-up an appointment. She stated that this was for her protection.
I thought about my options for several days and finally decided to use my cell phone to make the call. My logic was that doing so, she could see my number but not my name. Yes, she might be able to find out my name through research, but at least this way, I had a layer of protection – plus I could always argue that she was stalking me and that I had nothing to do with contacting her.
I called on a Monday in January, during my lunch hour. Michele answered the phone and I was instantly turned on by her voice and tone as we talked. She was very matter-of-fact and again gave me her ground rules, as well as the address to her studio. I was amazed that her studio was as close to my neighborhood as it was. I had driven by there may times and always assumed it was merely a normal residence. I had never seen anything unusual.
We set a date – on a Friday in 2 weeks – and I hung up. I was shaking all over with nervousness and excitement.
The next 2 weeks went by in a fog. As the day approached, I got more and more nervous. My wife noticed this, too. I told her that I was getting ready for some big presentation at work and she bought it.
Finally, on the day in question, I used the pretence of going to play golf as an excuse for leaving for the day. Normally, I take Fridays off, but often go play golf on those days. I drove over to the address I was given and parked my car several blocks away so that no one would see it near the “studio” and later make the connection. Also, I didn’t want Michele to see it in case she had a good memory for makes, models and license plates.
I walked over to Michele’s studio and knocked on the door. What happened next, I will never forget, and continue to regret for the rest of my life.
The door opened there stood a woman I knew. Not only did I know her, but also she was a friend of my wife’s.
Now to clarify, let me say that she was not a “close” friend of my wife’s but certainly “close enough”. They often talked and sometimes got together with other women for Ladies night out. I had no idea that she was a pro-dom – plus her name was not really Michele – it was Julie. I thought she was an architect.
We both looked completely shocked. My mind was racing to think of something to say, and at the same time, I could tell that the wheels were turning in Julie’s head too!
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she said after a few seconds. Her voice was full of rage and disgust. “You said your name was Greg Johnson…..this is why I want people to call me on their own God Damned phones….JESUS!”
I still could not speak. I merely stuttered some incoherent stuff trying to figure a way out of this situation.
“Shut up.”, she finally ordered. I don’t want to hear it. Get the hell out of here. I need to think about this.”
With that, she slammed the door shut and I was left to stagger back to my car.
I sank into my seat, closed the door and just sat in the car for what seemed like hours. Millions of thoughts went through my head. Excuses, explanations, plots and ploys – anything to make it all “right” again. No matter how much I tried I could not think of a solution. I was fucked.
I drove home later that afternoon and parked in my driveway. My wife’s car was there. That was a good sign – at least she had not left me yet. I walked into my house like a dead man walking waiting for the shoe to drop. But to my surprise, my wife was as happy and normal as ever. There was no sign that she knew anything.
Naturally this amazed me. I figured that Julie would have picked up the phone instantly and told my wife what a pervert she was married to. I could only figure that something else was going on. Maybe Julie did not want anyone to know that she is a Pro-Dom. Maybe Julie did not want to hurt my wife by telling her.
I breathed a tentative sigh of relief and tried to act as normal as I could around my wife. She asked me how I played and I responded with my usual summary of my golf game.
Several days went by and all was normal. I was just starting to believe that I had dodged a bullet, when I got a call on my cell during my lunch hour. The number did not look familiar, but I picked up anyway. It was Julie. She sounded as cold as a person could possibly be.
“I am only going to say this once – be at my place this Friday at 1:00 PM. Don’t be late, no excuses. If you don’t show, your wife will hear about your secret habits.”
She did not wait for me to answer and merely hung up after giving her instructions. I stood with the phone pressed to my ear for several more seconds in stunned silence. Now I knew. It was not over. She was going to take this to the next level.
At first I assumed that she would try to extort money out of me. As Friday grew closer, I went through every scenario I could think of in my mind, trying to anticipate what might happen and how I would respond. As seems to be normal in life, however, what actually happened is something I never expected.
On Friday, I again left the house to go “play golf”. I drove over to Julie’s house and this time parked in her driveway. I figured that the gig was up in terms of secrets. As I walked toward her front door, I noticed an unusual amount of cars parked on the street around her house. I didn’t think too much about this, however, and proceeded to ring the doorbell.
Julie opened up after a few seconds and silently motioned for me to enter. She led me into her living room and as I turned the corner, I froze in complete disbelief.
Sitting there in Julie living room, were most of my wife’s girlfriends. They were all assembled and looking at me with disgust. I wanted to run away, but at the same time, I knew it was useless. I could feel the bl**d rush into my head with shame and it must have shown because on of the ladies, Betty, said: “Oh look, now he is ashamed – after he gets caught – how typical.”
Julie pushed my forward into the room and motioned for me to stand in the center of the rug, which had been clear of the coffee table in obvious preparation for my arrival. The ladies were all seated in a semi circle around the rug facing me. Julie took a seat with the others and several moments of awkward silence followed as all the ladies glared at me and I stood there like a boy caught in a terrible lie.
I tentatively looked around the room. There were 6 ladies present. Next to Julie was Betty, a beautiful blond mother of 2 whom I’d had often admired from afar. She was a definite MILF and the thought that she now had clearly lost all respect for me was both sad and humiliating.
Next to Betty was Lisa. She was in her twenties, single with short blond hair. She was very pretty, having an uncanny resemblance to Patricia Arcet. She played roller derby as a hobby for a while and I had though about her as a Dom before, given her toughness and overall demeanor.
Then there was Cindy. She was a short, curly, red-head with a perfect body and cute overall appearance. She was a divorced mother of 2 boys and worked as a realtor. She was very much into physical fitness and healthy lifestyle. Of all the ladies there, I knew Cindy the best. We had always had a friendly connection – I was sure that was over with now.
Next to Cindy sat Ashley. She had short red hair, amazing breasts and a beautiful face. I did not know her very well, but I knew she worked as an admin assistant for a business in the area. Ashley was staring a hole right throw me, and I was amazed at how a simple look could intimidate.
Finally, sitting on the opposite end of Julie was Jennifer. She was a well known lesbian who owned small clothing business. She had short blond hair, a killer body, but a slightly masculine face. In lesbian relationships, she was clearly the guy. The last time I saw her, she was dating an unbelievably hot women who was experimenting with lesbianism at the time. The thought of those two together often gave me mental fodder for those lonely nights in bed when the wife was not in the mood.
Betty broke the ice and started to speak: “So Billy, Julie tells us that you made an appointment with her to be dominated.”
I was so ashamed it almost hurt. I merely stared at the ground and did not respond.
“Billy, I asked you a question. Is it true you tried to hire the services of Julie to be dominated?”
I meekly replied in the affirmative.
Cindy chimed in: “So you are married to a wonderful girl like Rachel and still need to go elsewhere for your jollies? What is wrong with you?”
“I am sorry”, I replied, “I was just trying to see what it’s like. I’ve had these fantasies and just wanted to try it.”
There was silence once again. Next, Lisa spoke: “So you have these fantasies and decide that they are more important then your relationship with your wife?”
“No”, I said. “I tried my best to keep it anonymous, I figured no one would ever know. There wouldn’t be any sex so I would not really be cheating and…..”
At my last statement there was a collective grumble of disgust in the room.
“Not really cheating?”, said Betty. “How on earth do you figure that? You would have been naked with another women. She would have been touching you. Plus, Julie showed us what you had written her for your ground rules and fantasies. How can you say that isn’t cheating?”
I again stood in silence. This time, I was not asked the same question again. Instead, Betty opened up a note book that she was holding on her lap. Inside, I could see there were notes and a copy of the email I had sent Julie.
Betty continued: “We all know what Julie does professionally. Your wife does, too. None of us care – in fact we find it amusing that men will pay her to get abused.. We find it amusing, that is, unless the man happens to be the husband of one of our friends!”
“Here is what you wrote you “wanted”: “I want to be humiliated. I want to be degraded. I want to warship my mistress as a goddess. I fantasize about being made to do things I would never normally do. Nothing is off-limits – spitting, peeing, hitting, etc.”
“You call THAT not cheating??” Betty read the list of fantasies that I had written, annunciating each word with disgust and obvious disbelief.
I felt like sinking into the carpet and disappearing. The ladies were all looking at me with complete disdain. Even Julie, who does this stuff for a living, seemed repulsed.
Betty continued: “I want you to explain to us, what it is you like about being treated like this by a woman.”
I continued to stare at the carpet not saying anything. After a few seconds Cindy said: “Look, we don’t have time for this. If you don’t start talking, we will just finish this now and give Rachel a call. On the other hand, if you want Rachel to stay in the dark on this, you better start cooperating and do exactly what is asked of you.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say”, I retorted with a slight hint of aggression in my voice. “I just have these fantasies about being dominated and under the control of a woman. Many people obviously have them. I can’t explain it. It’s just the way it is.”
“Well try. I want you to tell us what you fantasize about. Specifically and with great detail as to how it makes you feel. And don’t try to bullshit, we can tell if you are.” Betty was not letting go of her questioning.
“Well, I guess I get pretty excited about the thought of being under the control of a woman. For instance, I have seen stuff on the internet where guys go to this place in the Czech Republic call the “Other World Kingdom”. It’s a so called Kingdom where women rule supreme. In this place, men are used as things and get treated like a****ls by these women. They are beaten and humiliated. I see this stuff and get turned on. I just wanted to try it our for real.”
Julie chimed in that she knew about the place. She gave the ladies a quick overview of the Other World Kingdom based on what she knew.
Several of the ladies could not believe what they were hearing. “Men are ridiculous. Can’t they control their urges enough to see how stupid they are for paying to be abused?”, said Jennifer.
“Do you play with yourself when you see this stuff on the internet?”, asked Betty. She was stone cold serious. Some of the other ladies in the room chuckled at this question.
I was horrified. This kept on getting worse. Now I had to talk about my masturbation habits?
“Yes, sometimes.”, I said shyly.
Betty continued: “If you hadn’t known Julie and gone through with your session, would you have let her spit in your mouth and pee on you like you described in your email?”
I blushed even deeper – if that is possible. I shot a quick glance at Julie who was looking directly at me with a quizzical look on her face. I knew there really was not a “right” answer to this question. Finally, I answered:
“I don’t know – I guess – maybe. It’s hard to say. I have never done this before and was curious more then anything. Maybe I would have chickened out.”
“What is it you like about being dominated and humiliated?”, asked Amada, who had suddenly leaned forward in her chair as if she had thought of an interesting idea.
“”Like I’ve said, I just don’t know – I guess it’s the loss of control – being told what to do. I can’t explain it.”
“Well, what about right now?”, continued Ashley, “We are dominating you right now and I bet you feel humiliated. Does that turn you on?”
“No, it doesn’t.” I whispered.
“What about if I wanted to spit in your mouth right now? Would you like that?”, Ashley had to laugh as she asked this last question.
“NO!” I said f***efully.
“But why not? You were going to pay Julie over there $250 to beat you, spit at you and even pee on you. You should be eager for me to spit on you for free! In fact, you should almost cum with joy at the prospect of being spit on by all of us!”
I must have looked horrified. Ashley had trapped my in a circle of logic that I did not know how to get out of. All, I knew was, that I did not want to be spat at by all of the ladies. The ladies were all looking at me with great interest. I could tell that they were enjoying my embarrassment.
“Again, it is impossible to explain. This feels weird – not at all what I fantasized about.”
Lisa countered: “Well that is what we are getting at – what is it you were looking for? What is it that your wife can’t give you and that we obviously can’t provide right now?”
I felt like I might start to cry. I felt helpless. I did not know what to say. Finally, I weakly uttered: “Well, I guess that is what I would have found out in an S&M session – that it’s not all I expected and that I don’t like it. All I know for sure is that I don’t like this.”
“Well, that’s good. Obviously we are on the right track then.”, said Betty as she closed her notebook and sat back in her chair. She surveyed the other ladies and said: “Are we ready, then?”
The ladies all nodded in agreement. Then Betty turned her attention back to me.
“Ok, we have talked this over and decided what we are going to do. We are going to give you one chance, and one chance only, to keep this secret from your sweet wife going forward. If you do what we ask of you, we will keep this whole story to ourselves. On the other hand, the moment you screw-up or disobey, you will be outted. I can virtually guarantee you that being outted would mean the end of your marriage. We know Rachel pretty well and she would not get over this.”
“So the choice you have is this. You will serve us in any way we see fit, for as long as we see fit. We will take turns using your services. Primarily, we will use you for chores around our households. However, at the same time, you will be trained in manners, respect, grooming, and appearance. We figure that this is the least we can do to make it up to Rachel for your being such a crappy cheating husband.”
“If you misbehave, you will be punished. We each get to punish you however we want. Once per month we will meet here to review your progress as a group. During these gatherings we will punish you as well, if needed.”
“So what is your decision? You have 10 seconds to decide.”
I was in a panic. I did not see any way out of this. I was standing there in front of 6 beautiful women being f***ed to submit to their will or else lose my relationship with my wife. Normally, I would have thought I would be turned on by this prospect, but at this moment I was only terrified and confused. As my time to decide ran out, Betty again asked me to make a decision and I reluctantly agreed to their terms.
“Very well”, said Betty. “Now get down on your knees.”
I was still too stunned to protest and merely sank down onto my knees in front of the semi-circle of ladies.
“You will know swear your loyalty to all of us”, said Betty. “Crawl over to Julie, face her, put your hands in the praying position, and repeat after me.”
On my knees, I stumbled over to face Julie who had an evil grin on her face. Betty started and I repeated: “I swear complete obedience to you Miss Julie. I promise to honor, obey, and respect you for as long as you ask me to. Thank you for giving me this opportunity to become a better person and a better husband to my wife.”
I finished repeating Betty’s pre-read oath to Julie. The other ladies were giggling as I repeated the vows. Next it was Betty whom I had to swear the oath to. I was not able to remember all the words, but she helped me along when I got stuck. By the time I had finished with Lisa’s vow, I had it memorized and repeated it to the remaining ladies.
Betty motioned for me to get back into the center of the room and again opened her notebook.
“Ok, now we get to test your resolve. Before you leave here today, Julie is going to punish you. This is going to be your punishment for cheating on your wife, and for all the rude behavior you exhibited toward us today.”
Julie stood up and retrieved a small wooden bench from one side of the room. She set it down in front of me gave the first command that would take my breath away:
“Pull down your pants and underwear and bend over this bench. I want your ass facing the ladies. DO IT NOW.”
I looked around the room at the ladies in sheer panic. They were all looking back at me with intent interest and resolve. I knew I had no choice. I slowly stood up and undid the belt of my pants. Everything I did was in slow motion.
Betty commanded: “Hurry up, we don’t want to be here all day!”.
As I got to my shorts, I turned away from the ladies. Amada laughed out loud and said “Now he is shy, and a few minutes ago he was saying how he would like to have us spit in his mouth. What a joke!”
“I wearily bent over the bench as I had been instructed and waited for what was to come. I heard Julie retrieve something else from a closet in the corner. At the same time, Jennifer, came over to me and tied my hands and legs to the side of the bench so that I could not move.
When she was done, I was unable to move. I was essentially kneeling on the floor, bent over the end of the bench, with my arms stretched out on the bench in front of me. My face was pressed onto the seat of the bench between my outstretched arms. I was positioned in such a way that my ass was facing the semi-circle of ladies.
Julie stood behind me and said: “You will get 100 licks with this cane. It will hurt like crazy. This is what you would have received if you were my customer, only not nearly as hard. So be thankful, now you are getting the real thing and for free.”
All the ladies laughed. Before I was able to comprehend what she had said, the first stroke hit my rear. At first, I was surprised at the lack of pain. Then, after about 2 seconds after impact, I suddenly felt the searing pain of the cane on my flesh. It felt like someone had sliced into my skin. It knocked the wind out of me and I let out a yelp that surprised even me.
Whack! The second stroke hit. I was in agony. Julie said casually: “I hope you’re counting, because unless I hear a count, I assume I missed.”
“TWO”, I screamed in a high pitched voice that made the ladies all giggle again.
The beating went on. By 15 I was almost at the point of tears. And to my horror, I realized that I had 85 to go.
Julie was walking around the room, taking various positions so that she could hit my ass from every angle. I could hear some of the ladies directing her to aim for a certain spot that they thought needed attention. Some of the ladies were laughing – others seemed shocked by the damage the cane was doing.
Over time, my ass became numb with pain. I was not able to scream anymore because the air was missing from my lungs to let our any more sound. Tears were streaming down my face. I could barely manage to utter the numbers of the count.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I reached 100. Julie dropped the cane on the ground next to me and told the ladies that her arm was sore. I heard one of them reply that she bet my ass was 1000 more sore, which was met by laughter all around.
I was left tied to the bench for the next few minutes as the ladies took turn examining my abused rear end. I could feel several hands exploring the welts on my ass, while exclaiming out loud that I looked like tenderized meat.
Finally, after they were done admiring Julie’s handwork, Jennifer released my restraints and I was ordered to kneel in front of the ladies again.
As I f***ed myself up from the bench, I instinctively started to pull up my pants.
“Did I tell you to pull them up?”, asked Betty?
“No”, I said weakly.
“That’s no Ma’am”. If you fail to say Ma’am to anyone of us, that is a demerit. Each demerit will lead to a punishment. Got it?”
“Yes Ma’am” I immediately replied.
“Good. Now kneel and keep your hands to your side.”
There I was with my ass on fire, and my prick hanging out for everyone to see. I had tears in my eyes and was on my knees in front of all these women. I felt completely humiliated. I wanted to die. I tentatively reached around to feel my ass and was shocked to discover that some of the welts were bleeding.
Ashley noticed me examining myself and said: “Yeah, you won’t be sitting on that thing for a while.”
The other ladies laughed again and I heard Jennifer add: “His fat ass does not need any sitting on. What is needs is to lose some fat and maybe a good shave.”
I was so humiliated, I merely kept my eyes focused on the floor directly in front of me. Then to my horror, I noticed that my dick was getting slightly erect. The combination pain and humiliation must have triggered something.
I was not the only one to notice. Lisa was the first person to say something.
“Look at that! His dick is getting hard. Unbelievable!”
Julie chuckled and said “It happens all the time, believe me. Strange isn’t it. Men are so pathetic.”
Betty was obviously taken aback. She looked at me with disgust. “You make me sick”, she said.
Cindy stood up from her chair and walked over to me. She grabbed a chunk of my hair and pulled my head back so that I was f***ed to look up at her.
“You will not get aroused by this. That is completely unacceptable! Get rid of it. NOW.”
I was close to tears again with shame and fear. “I don’t know how! I can’t.”, I yelled in panic.
“Whack off then!”, ordered Cindy. “Do it now or else you go back on the bench for another 100.”
I yelped and immediately grabbed my dick and started to jerk off. Cindy let go of my hair and sat back down to watch me. I was in a world of terror. Never in 1 million years would I have imagined being so degraded and humiliated. I was kneeling in front of 6 females whom I knew and respected, with my pants around my ankles, tears in my eyes, and bruised and beaten ass and simultaneously jerking off in front of them. I could feel my human sensibilities rushing out of my body. I was losing my self-worth right at this moment, right in front of them.
After about 2 minutes of frantically beating off, I started to cum. The ladies had been watching – half with interest – half with disgust. As my milk shot out from between my palm, I noticed several of the ladies look away in revulsion.
After I had finished cuming, I sank back into my kneeling position, totally spent.
Betty calmly said: “Clean it up. You can’t just leave that nasty stuff on Julie’s floor.”
I looked up at her perplexed. I had nothing to wipe up the cum with.
“Use your mouth”, Betty said matter-of-factly. “You males seem to think women should eat that shit, so you might as well enjoy it, too.”
I was so far beyond rational at this point, that I did not have the energy to protest. I merely lowered my head toward the floor and licked the cum squirts off the wood. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was actually, quietly crying during most of this process – I was at the end of my ropes.
I could hear the ladies comment on how pathetic I looked with my pants around my ankles, licking the floor. I must have been an unbelievable site.
Having cleaned off the floor, I again got back to my knees and numbly waited for what was next.
All the ladies were seated again and looking at me with removed disdain. Betty was the first to speak:
“So what do you think of all that?”, she started. “You just got what you asked for. You were beaten and humiliated. We have all seen you naked….your privates are hanging out in all their pathetic glory. You have cum – your own cum – in your mouth and tears in your eyes. And we have watched it all. . How do you feel? Is it all you hoped it would be??”
I was silent – staring at the ground.
“The only thing we haven’t done as part of your supposed fantasy is spit on you….or pee on you for that matter. Maybe you would like that? Maybe we can all gather up a nice glob of spit? Would you like that? I don’t know about the other ladies, but I am not gonna pee on you – that’s for sure….”
I remained silent and motionless for a moment, and then, without knowing what hit me, I started to cry. I completely lost it. I was sobbing like a c***d. My body convulsed, causing my limp penis to flop around as my sobs progressed. Some of the ladies looked stunned at what they were witnessing. A few even looked concerned. Betty looked more disgusted then ever. I covered my eyes in shame, and continued to sob into my hands. Looking back, it’s remarkable that I was more concerned with covering my face, then my exposed private parts.
After a few seconds, Betty calmly and quietly asked her question again: “How do you feel? I want and expect an answer, not a bunch of blubbering.”
I tired to control my sobbing to calm down enough so I could speak. Finally, after letting out a few more whimpers, I f***ed out:
“I am so sorry about what I did. Please just let me go. I promise to never do anything to disrespect my wife again. I promise I will never even think of S&M again. I will be the best model husband! I have learned my lesson – I swear.”
I was pleading with them. I must have looked ridiculous. A grown man on his knees with his pecker hanging out, sobbing and pleading. But this is exactly what they were wanting. This was their goal. I saw a faint smile form on Betty’s lips as she let me continue with my pleading.
I didn’t care, however. I just kept on with my barrage of begging. “I’ll do anything if you’ll just let me go. I’ll pay you – anything…”
“Enough!”, said Betty with a stern voice, shutting me up instantly. “Pull yourself together and try to act like a man should.”
“It’s too late for pleading and bargaining. You have made you choices and now you have to live with the consequences. You will continue your training with us until we say you are done. You will learn that bad behavior is unacceptable.”
“But you still have not answered me. I want to know how you liked your experience.” Betty was insistent. She was going to f***e me to answer a question that impossible to answer.
“Ma’am”, I started, “I hated it. I have never felt so humiliated in all of my life. This is not at all what I expected. I never want to even think about it again.”
“Well, this is exactly what you wrote you wanted. In fact, you got even more then you asked for – you were just asking to hire one mistress and instead you got 6….and for free.”
Betty was making no attempts to hide her contempt for me as she addressed me.
“Yes, I know”, I countered, “but this is not at all how I imagined it. In my fantasies, it was totally different. In real life I just feel ridiculous.”
Betty would not let up with the questioning – she really seemed to enjoy messing with my mind.
“Let me get back to the stuff we have not done yet. The spitting and peeing….where does that come from? Why on earth would you want that?”
A cold shiver went down my spine, as I realized where she was going with this questioning…I was not done yet…. not even close. I looked at the ground again in shame and said. “I really don’t know. I figured maybe that it would be a total loss of control. Something so nasty that I would feel completely under a women’s control.”
“So, if one of us comes over there right now and spits into your mouth, how would that make you feel?”
Betty asked the question with obvious mischief in her voice. I looked up in shock and said: “Please Ma’am, no! I am sure that I don’t need to try it. I would not like it!”
“What are you saying? You are repulsed by one of us? What’s wrong with our spit?”
The other ladies were trying to suppress their laughter, as I was being f***ed into an ever-tighter corner.
“No Ma’am”, I said weakly, “you are all wonderful, but I just don’t think that this is my fantasy anymore.”
“Well, I don’t know”, countered Betty “You never know until you try.”
“Who wants to give the boy a taste so he can “experience” what he asked for?”
Betty looked around the room.
I was mortified and remained frozen in place looking at the ground. After a few seconds of silence, Cindy spoke up.
“I’ll be glad to give the boy what he wants.” She stood up and walked over to me. I was petrified with fear and disgust.
Standing directly in front of me, she order me to look up at her.
“Look at me!” she barked. “Right into my eyes.”
I did as I was told. I still had tears in my eyes from my melt-down and blinked several times to get clear vision.
“Watch my mouth, as I collect a nice sample for you.”, she said.
I saw her moving her lips around, obviously collecting a large wad of spit.
“Tilt your head back and open your mouth”, she continued – this time speaking like she had marbles in her mouth.
“Put your hand in the praying position and get ready to receive your gift.”
I was shaking, but I did what I was told. I must have looked pathetic. Half naked, with my mouth dutifully open and my heads in prayer I was letting a women spit into my mouth.
I could tell the other ladies were watching intently. I heard a few of them utter things like: “Wow that is gross.” Or “I can’t believe he wanted this!”
Cindy bent down toward me holding back her long curly hair. She had a smile on her face, one that almost looked kind.
She opened her lips slightly and let out a long flow of her warm spit. The fluid landed on the back of my tongue and started to drip down the back of my throat. I did my absolute best to hid and gag reflex, because I figured the consequences of such a thing would be off the charts.
It seemed like the spit just kept on coming for minutes. Finally, after she had emptied her mouth, she finished off her deed by blowing a final spit into my mouth – sort like she was clearing out any remnants she had left.
“You may close your month and look straight ahead again”, she said as she walked back to her seat.
Once I straightened my head again, and was facing the ladies, I felt even more ashamed then I had before. They all had smirks on their faces and were looking at me in anticipation of my reaction. Most of Cindy’s spit had dripped down my throat, but there was still some in my mouth and I could taste it clearly. The thought was revolting to me and I had to again control the urge to gag.
“So, how was that?”, asked Betty, continuing with her analysis of my documented fantasy.
“It was not like I imagined, Ma’am.” I said weakly.
“Well, that is too bad. I guess you are striking out on all fronts today, aren’t you?”
“Tell us, how does it feel to have someone spit into your mouth?”, Betty continued
I realized that this was a potentially dangerous question. If I answered honestly, that it was gross as hell, I could get into trouble with Cindy. If I said I liked it, then I risked having more of this done to me.
“It feels extremely humiliating…..particularly in front of everyone”, I meekly answered while looking down at the floor.
“Well, that is what you were going for, wasn’t it? You should be in fantasy heaven.”
Betty turned to the other ladies and said: “Well, I guess there remains only one other thing to complete this boy’s fantasies. Maybe it will be the thing to finally get his juices flowing.”
I was mortified. I knew instantly what she meant. I just could not believe what I was hearing.
Betty continued: “Is anyone willing to piss on him? I’m not – he is not getting anywhere near that part of my body. Any of you interested?”
There was a moment of silence in the room. I was totally frozen in place – mortified at the prospect of what might follow. Then, I heard what I hoped I would not:
“I’ll do it. I need to go anyway.” It was Jennifer. She had stood up from her chair and was walking towards me with a grin on her lips. When I heard her volunteer, my eyes involuntarily shot over towards her and the sheer panic in my face must have amused her.
She grabbed a large chunk of hair on the top of my head and f***efully pulled me to my feet.
“Follow me, boy….and keep your head in a bowed position as you follow me!”
She led me to the bathroom by my hair. I was bent over following her, almost as if I were being led on a leash.
When we got into the bathroom, she ordered me to get on my knees and take off all of my clothes. I was in such a state of panic, I didn’t even find the presence of mind to object of plead – I merely stripped as fast as I could in some strange hope that being obedient might allow me to avoid what was to come.
When I was completely naked and again kneeling in front of her, Jennifer yanked me into the tub and told me to lie down with my head toward the drain.
I did what I was told. The position was very uncomfortable. My head was being f***ed against the back of the tube because my feet were longer then the tub and sort of perched up against the opposite wall.
“Put you hands underneath you”, she ordered as she was examining my position in the tube. Again, I did what I was told.
Jennifer casually, dropped her pants to the floor and took off her panties. Then she stood up on the edge of the bath tub so that her crotch was directly over my face. I could see her pussy, which was completely shaved. For a moment, I was excited at my good fortune – I had wanted to see her naked and had often wondered what she might look like beneath her clothing.
I could hear a few of the ladies who had gathered to watch at the door of the bathroom giggle in anticipation of what was to come.
Jennifer squatted down and began to relieve herself as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Her stream hit me square in the face and I closed my eyes and mouth f***efully in an effort to keep the fluid out. I could smell the distinct order of urine and felt the warm fluid pool around the back of my head as it made its way toward the drain.
It seemed like her peeing would never end. She really must have needed to go. Finally, after a few final squirts, she stood up, climbed down from the bath tub and wiped herself with a piece of toilet paper which she then proceeded to toss onto my wet face after she was done.
I merely remained frozen in place with piss still dripping from my face and around my head. I could feel a slight burning in the corner of my eyes where some of the pee had f***ed its way into my eyes. Since there was no way to avoid some of the fluid from entering my nose, the smell was very powerful. I felt so degraded – nothing could have ever prepared me for this. I was at my end.
“Jack off!”, Jennifer ordered. I was startled out of my relative calm and relief that the ordeal was over.
I opened my eyes in shock, only to immediately shut them again when the burning became unbearable. I knew it was futile, so I pulled my hands from underneath me and grabbed my limp cock. There was zero excitement for me to draw on to get a boner. My dick was completely flaccid and jerking off was like trying to push on a rope.
“You have 5 minutes to cum, or else I will do things to you that you will have nightmares about for the rest of your life!”
Jennifer’s voice was filled with f***efulness that told me she was not k**ding. I mustered all the strength I could and tried to imagine this situation in a fantasy scenario that would have easily turned me on in the past.
Here I was – with a group of attractive females, being f***ed to do unspeakable things while they watched. I was completely powerless and helpless to their demands. I was as low as it got in the hierarchy of things.
As I was going through my thought process, I could feel my dick to get a little stiff. I was overjoyed and continued on with my mind games. Thankfully, it was not too much longer until I shot a load of cum all over myself, as my body convulsed from the powerful orgasm.
“God is that pathetic!”, I heard one of the ladies say. “How on earth can he get excited enough to have an orgasm after what you just did to him. This just proves that he is a total pervert.”
As the high from the orgasm was wearing off, I started to feel extremely ashamed and humiliated. I wanted to disappear. But Jennifer was not done with me yet.
“Get up and kneel in the tub”, she ordered.
I started to pull myself up, slipping on the wetness as I grasped for some hold. Finally, I was kneeling in the tub, facing Jennifer. In the doorway to the bathroom, I could see Cindy, Julie, and Ashley. All of the ladies had a disgusted look on their face.
The piss was still dripping off of my hair and down the back of my neck. My cum was stuck to my belly like a squirt of hair gel. I had my hand in front of my privates and my head was lowered in shame.
Jennifer handed me a roll of toilet paper. “Now here is what you are going to do.”, she said as she stood back to admire her degraded subject.
“You are going to use the toilet paper to dry off and clean the inside of the tub. But there is a catch. When you are done, you will come outside with the used toilet paper and you will eat it in front of us all. So the less paper you use, the less you will have to eat.”
The ladies in the doorway were giggling as Jennifer handed me the roll of paper. I, on the other hand, just remained frozen in place, too shocked to move. What was I going to do? There was so much piss still left in the tube and I was still adding to it with all the drippings coming from my covered body.
Slowly, I started to climb over the edge of the tube, but was jolted back into place by Jennifer’s stern reminder: “You better dry yourself off first – if you drip on the floor, you’re cleaning that up, too!”
Realizing that I had very little alternatives, I unrolled a few sheets of paper from the roll, and began to dab myself off. It was a frustrating task, and before I knew it, I had used at least 15 sheets of paper, most of which was now lying in the tub as a wet glob.
Finally, I had dried off enough to get out of the tub. The ladies were all watching with great interest. I figure they were curious to see how much paper I could get away with using to finish the job.
I turned my attention to the tub, and tried to use the wet sheets at the bottom of the tub to dry the rest of the surface. It was futile. I had to use more paper.
When all was completed to Jennifer’s liking (she made me continue several times when I thought I was done), she ordered me to collect the used toilet paper sheets and put them in the waist basket next to the toilet.
For a moment, I was relieved, figuring that she had just been k**ding about eating the paper rests. However, that brief feeling of relief was shattered when she told me to take the trash can and follow her and the ladies back into the living room.
Now, remember, I was still completely naked. I had actually forgotten this minor detail in the heat of the moment. I merely grabbed the trash can and stumbled to follow her, all the while freaking out in my head about what I was potentially going to have to eat.
Jennifer and the other ladies who were watching my latest humiliation, returned to their seats in the semi-circle. All of the ladies watched as I shuffled into position. I noticed Lisa, Cindy and Betty try to repress laughter, as they pointed at me. It was only then that I realized I was completely naked. Not only that, but my hair was all matted against my skull, partially dry at this point. I felt amazingly ashamed and dropped my head on my chest near tears.
Jennifer began to address me: “So you were told to clean-up the remains of my pee with toilet paper. You were warned to use as little paper as possible.”
She shifted the focus of her address to the other ladies and continued: “As an incentive, I told him that he’d be f***ed to eat each sheet he used….you should have seen how careful he was not to waist a square!” The ladies all laughed together at Jennifer’s sarcastic comment.
“Nevertheless, it took more sheets then I think he bargained for and they are all in that waist basket he brought with him in the room.”
She again turned her attention on me. “So here we are. It’s time to finish up your “Session” – She made air quotes when saying this. “I don’t want those filthy pieces of paper to stay in Julie’s house – you are going to take them with you. And since you don’t have any clothes on to stuff them in, I guess you will have to use the orifices of your body….”
Again there was laughter around the room. I was mortified, but still so lost in my shame that I barely reacted.
“So here is what you are going to do. I want you to get rid of every last piece of toilet paper in that waist basket. You can use any hole you want. You can stick it up your ass, in your nose, in your ears and in your mouth – but it has to be gone and out of sight. Be careful not to let any of my pee drip on the floor. If you do, I will mop it up with more paper that you will then have to eat as well!”
Her instructions had gotten my attention. I must have shot a look of complete terror at her and the other ladies, because they were all trying their best not to burst out into laughter at the sight of me.
“Do it NOW!”, ordered Jennifer. Her command was so f***eful that I instinctively grabbed the trashcan and began to retrieve the first wad of soaking paper.
For a few seconds, I contemplated what I would do with it. The “easiest” thing would be to just shove it in my mouth and swallow. But the idea of doing that was nauseating.
The ladies were all leaning forward in their chairs watching me as if they were watching an interesting science experiment. The full scope of the ridiculousness of my situation has not even begun to sink in at this point.
I decided that I would try and shove as much of the paper up my ass as I could. I was hoping to maybe fit it all in, but the chances were slim. I rolled the paper mass into a thin strip with my fingers. I was careful not to let any moisture drip as I shaped the wet glob. When I had it shaped like I wanted, I bent over and spread apart my butt cheeks and stuffed the wad as far and deep as I could. I tried to actually push it up into my asshole to make extra room, but I was clear that this would not work.
I must have looked so ridiculous that the ladies almost choked with laughter. I saw tears in Betty’s eyes from laughing so hard. I was beyond humiliation.
I continued on stuff wet toilet paper between my ass crack. Jennifer got up from her chair and walked around behind me to inspect what I was doing. She was still laughing when she said:
“Remember, it has to be out of sight. If it’s hangin’ out of your ass when you’re done, I will not accept it.”
She returned to her chair and continued to watch my struggles.
I soon became clear that I was not going to fit all of the paper into my ass. I had at least half of it left and the room between the cheeks was full. I started to think where I could put it next that would be the least repulsive. I took a few more sheets and rolled them into a size that would fit my nose. I stuffed my nostrils as full of paper as I could. It was an awful feeling. I could smell the mixture of piss and paper and some of the moisture was running down the back of my throat already.
Next, I targeted the ears, but only very little fit in there.
The ladies were beside themselves with laughter. I had mostly tuned them out, but every once in a while, the momentary realization of what I was doing flashed before me. I had pretty much sunk below low – I was no longer myself – no longer human.
With my ass, nose and ears filled to capacity, I came to the realization that I would have to put the rest of the wet mass into my mouth. I looked into the trashcan to get a feel for how much more was left. It looked like about the size of large orange or small g****fruit.
I opened my mouth and was about begin shoving in the paper when Julie raised her hand and stopped me.
“What are you doing, you idiot, she asked?”
I answered: “Ma’am, I am going to stuff the rest of this into my mouth and be done with it.”
“And then how do you intend to breath, you genius?”
She was right. I could not just shove the paper into my mouth. If I did, there would be no way for me to get air. I would have to keep room for air.
I was perplexed and looked down at the big, wet gob of paper to figure out my options. I figured I could try and stuff much of the paper back between my cheeks and gums and some around the inside of my lips, but I risked running out of room and then having no where to go with it.
It seemed that the only possible choice was to eat and swallow enough of the remaining paper to ensure that the rest would fit into the cheeks.
Reluctantly, I peeled off a few sheets of paper. It mostly shredded apart as I tried to peel it away from the rest of the glob. Without much thinking, I just flung the sheets into my mouth and did everything I could to just swallow while minimizing any taste or feeling of texture. It was hard to do. I gagged a few times before the sheets went down.
The ladies momentarily went silent as I started the ingestion of the paper, but soon began to laugh again when they saw me gag.
I continued forcing down the wet paper for several minutes. The taste was horrible. All my senses were now overwhelmed with piss. Smell, taste, sight – it was all just Jennifer’s piss. And I was being made to live this nightmare in front of 6 ladies who were laughing their asses off at the site.
Finally, I felt I had disposed of enough to safely try and pack the rest into my cheeks. I took the remaining mass and shoved it into my mouth like a piece of chewing tobacco. The piss was oozing out of the paper and tasted horrific.
The sight of me finishing off the paper garnered some “uuhhs” and “grosses” and “nasties” from my audience, only adding the unbelievable shame I already felt.
Nevertheless, the paper was finally gone. I could not see myself, but I must have looked beyond ridiculous. Jennifer ordered me to rotate around so she could ensure all the paper was indeed “out of sight”. I got a few more laughs as I spun on my knees.
Having satisfied herself that I had finished the job, Jennifer addressed me again:
“Ok – you will keep that stuff where it is until you get out of our sight…and I mean completely out of our sight….like after you get into your car and drive away.”
“Now, before you can put on your clothes and leave, you have to do 2 more things for us.” “First, you will jack off one more time. After you cum, you will rub that shit onto your face as if it were face cream. Then, and as your final task, you will come to each of our chairs and thank us for your free session. It better be a heartfelt thank you, too – otherwise we might start over.”
At this point, I was so numb to the entire situation, Jennifer’s words barely registered. All I wanted and all I was focused on was getting out of there. The giggles of the ladies who were watching me sounded a million miles away.
I dutifully grabbed my limp dick and began to jerk off. It took forever to get a hard-on – there wasn’t an ounce of sexuality left in me, but thankfully, nature took over after a while. While I was jacking off, I momentarily took inventory of my physical state. At this point, my knees were aching from all the kneeling. My ass was throbbing and felt raw – I figured that sitting would be a luxury over the next few days. My face and upper body felt sticky and nasty. Not to mention the inside of my mouth. The toilet paper was still seeping the remaining piss into the back of throat and every time I thought of what it was I was swallowing, I had a momentary gag reflex.
I continued pumping mindlessly for what seemed like hours until, finally, without any climactic joy, a little bit of cum squirted out of my prick. The ladies commented on the tiny amount I produced and proceeded to make fun of me – but I had stopped caring.
Betty ordered me to apply the cum to my face, which, again, I did in total numbness and silence. After I was done, which did not take very long, I kneeled at attention waiting for what was next, hoping it would soon be over.
Betty started: “How did you like that last orgasm?” She spoke softly and with almost no emotion in her voice. I knew I had to answer, even though I has zero desire to do so.
“Ma’am, it was completely un-enjoyable. I had no sexual desire at all.” My speech was strained and muffled by the wad of wet paper stuck between my checks and gums.
“Good”, said Betty enthusiastically. “That was exactly what we were aiming for. From now on, you will only be allowed to jack off when you are told, and it will always be unpleasant. We are going to reprogram your mind and your body to have a negative association with masturbation. Your body is not for your personal use – you lost that privilege when you tried to hire Julie.”
Betty continued: “After you leave here today, you are not to engage in any self gratification of any type. If your wife wishes to have sex, that is fine, but nothing else. Don’t try to lie, either, we have ways of finding out and, trust me, if we catch you lying, you will wish you were never born with a penis!”
“Now, there will be a slight problem for you for the next few days. Your ass is gonna look like you’ve been beaten. You better make sure that Rachel does not see you rear, until it has healed. If she does, you’re on your own. We will not lie for you. If you can explain it, good for you – but if you cannot – too bad. If you want to tell her what we did to you, go for it.”
“Now, thank all of us for your lesson – I am getting sick of the sight of you.”
“Kneel at each of our chairs, put your hands in prayer position, and tell us what you are thankful for. I advise you to be very specific. Thank each of us for what we did. Remember, if we don’t accept your gratitude, we will keep you here.”
Still essentially in a state of shock, I was briefly energized by the prospect of getting out of this hell hole. I scurried over to the left of the semi circle and got in position in front of Julie. I clapped my hands together and, after summonsing all my strength and gathering my thoughts, started my thank you’s:
“Ms. Julie, Ma’am – Thank you for training me today. Thank you for teaching me what it feels like to be beaten. I really appreciate the hard work you did giving me the 100 swats. Also, thank you for letting me be in your house and using the space for my education.” Aside from the humiliation of having to say all these things that were totally opposite that what I felt, the mere act of speaking was tough due to the wet paper in my mouth. I had to constantly adjust the way it was positioned in my mouth in order to avoid choking on it.
The other ladies were doing their very best not to burst into laughter as I said these things to Julie. Julie, however, remained stone cold serious the entire time. She merely nodded her head after I was done and motioned for me to move on. As I scurried over the next chair, where Betty was sitting, she added: “I liked the words, but your voice lacked enthusiasm. Fix that!”
I positioned myself in front of Betty and started my thank you: “Ms. Betty, Ma’am – thank you for all of your instructions today. I really appreciate the work you did to prepare for today. Your planning has made it possible for me to learn so much from you and all the other ladies. Also, thank you for watching as I was punished and degraded by the other ladies – I know that it must have been unpleasant to see.”
Betty smiled and replied: “It was not nearly as unpleasant as hearing what you did in the first place. Now, move on.”
I crawled over to Cindy’s chair. She did not do that much to me, except for spitting in my mouth and watching me get pissed on. I was frantically trying to think up a few good lines for her. I kneeled and said:
“Ms. Cindy, Ma’am – thank you so very much for teaching me today. You spat in my mouth on onto my face, which was very generous of you. It tough me a very valuable lesson. Also, thank you for noticing my erection and correcting my ways. I hope I did not offend you too much.”
Cindy chuckled and said: “Jez – this boy is really good a groveling. Maybe we have found his true calling!”
Next I made my way over to Lisa and then Ashley. I thanked them for their help with my training and for taking the time to be there. They really didn’t do that much other then watch and laugh. Both of them had the most evil grin on their faces as I was thanking them. My shame level reached new heights.
Finally, I got to Jennifer. She was leaning back with her legs crossed like a man. She had one arm flung over the back of her chair and you could tell she was clearly looking forward to what I had to say.
I put my hands in the prayer position and started: “Ms. Jennifer, Ma’am, thank you for your effort and attention to my training.”
I paused to think how I could best continue. Jennifer’s expression remained unchanged.
“It was an honor to be able to receive your pee shower. I will never forget it. Also, I really appreciate the lesson you taught me about conserving paper for clean-up. Finally, I am grateful that you make me dispose of the used paper in the manner you did. It would have been disrespectful of me to leave that stuff behind for Ms. Julie.”
I finished and looked at Jennifer and frightful anticipation, hoping I was successful in my “thank-you’s”.
Jennifer, her expression barely changing, casually motioned for me to go back to the center of the room, which I hurriedly did. Betty retrieved my clothing from various locations in the house and tossed it in front of my, with the order to get dressed. Those were the sweetest words I heard all day.
I quickly dressed myself, in front of the giggling ladies, and waited to be dismissed. Betty had one more surprise for me, however, before I could go.
“Tomorrow, at noon, you will show-up at my house to serve me. No excuses. It’s your problem to explain it to Rachel. When you arrive, I want you to go the back of the house and wait for me at the door. You will be wearing nothing but workout shorts, a t-shirt, socks and shoes. You will be clean and presentable. Do not be late. Understood?”
“Yes, Ma’am”, I replied. I was stunned, but nothing mattered to me at this point except getting out of Julie’s house.
“Ok, get out of here. Remember, you are not allowed to remove the paper until you are out of our site completely.”
I trotted to the door and almost ran to my car. I was gone in seconds. As soon as I turned the corner, I stopped the car and found the nearest sewer drain where I quickly spit out the paper in my mouth. I had a few gag reflex moments again, and this time, I did not hold back – I let it come out. Thankfully, I think I threw-up most of the paper the ladies made me eat.
Since I could not take my pants off in public, the paper in my ass would have to remain until I got home. That was actually the least of my worries.
What was to come in the future – that was what worried me…..
The End! (For now.)
Posted by zork2006 8 months ago Views: