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slaveloser33

SlaveMisty
Female Submissive, 26, Dallas, Texas
slavenikki
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slavebob
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About slaveloser33

wow it said i was in oklahoma lol

The male also has a much simpler sex drive than a woman. He simply wants to mate with any female he finds desirable. The longer he is denied sex, the stronger his desire grows and the criterion by which he finds a woman desirable lowers. Since it is the woman who decides if he will be allowed to have sex with her or not, his desire for her sexually is also linked to the desire for her approval. As he becomes more interested in her the desire to please her as a way to get sex can become overwhelming for him. That is why you will often see men acting foolishly in front of females they desire, even though they have no chance to have sex with them. That is also why, once married, a man will begin to take his wife for granted; now that he has easy availability of sex from her, she becomes less desirable to him.

One might think that this is a good argument for having an open marriage in which both a wife and her husband find sexual partners outside their marriage. Interviews with couples in open marriages have shown that these marriages almost always lead to a competition between the two spouses regarding who is having more sex with more partners. A wife will always win this competition because it is much easier for a woman to find sexual partners than it is for a man. The competition, however, can become nasty, ugly and often cruel. A wife will sometimes be drawn into the competition so deeply she will have sex with far more men than she wishes too, and her husband will have growing feelings of inadequacy, as he cannot keep up with his wife. This kind of competition almost always destroys a marriage.

Furthermore, the idea of open marriage assumes the erroneous notion that men need a variety of sex partners. While all evidence indicates that a married woman both physiologically and psychologically does need a variety of sexual partners, a married man does not. The genetic code that drives a man is the thrill of pursuit, not the need for variety. Husbands in clinical studies who’s desire for their wives have waned and who’s interest have turned to other women have been completely turned around when their wives begin using arousal and denial techniques on them. These techniques instill uncertainty in the husband as to whether he will be allowed to complete a sex act with her or not. Time after time, in study after study, these husband’s desires have been focused back to their wives exclusively, losing all interest in other women. The wives in these studies were even able to vary their husband’s level of interest through increasing or decreasing their application of arousal and denial techniques. It was further found that when these same wives reverted back to traditional sexual practices with their husbands, their husbands began to loose interest again and began to again look at other women as possible sex partners.

Interestingly, it was during the sexually repressive Victorian Era that an unusual mix of cuckoldry and the sexual arousal and denial of males was employed. It was believed at that time that many ills were caused by excessive male ejaculations. They believed that loss of sperm contributed to a whole host of maladies, from asthma to mental illness. As a result, chastity devices were often prescribed for men. This practice was so pr Mine will be the most scrumptiously naughty story of any lady tomorrow at tea)

Another journal tells how excited one wife was that she had her husband doing housework, an unheard of practice at a time when male and female roles were so rigid, illustrating again how arousal and denial of sex can totally alter a man’s behavior. Other journal entries tell of the rise in attention from their husbands and the thrill of sneaking around behind their husband’s back and having sex while their husband was “locked in his cage.”

While diagnosing the damage done to women by denying them the fulfillment of their sexual needs may have been falsely labeled hysteria, the doctors of Victorian times were startlingly near the mark. Victorian doctors had insightfully identified the need women had for sex with a variety of men.

Unsurprisingly, since human societal structures were originally matriarchal, societies that still live today in ways closer to our original female and male roles do not suffer from the damages of psychological and physiological stress. These more basic societies, far from the modern world, are nearly always matriarchal. It is the women in these societies who control property, family affairs and sexual activity. These women will usually have multiple husbands and lovers. One or two of these men provide them with food, shelter and security, while the others provide them with sex. Male, female, male couplings are not only accepted, but quite normal. In some societies, certain “stud” males will exclusively service a wife, in others, wives will share, exchange and even trade stud males. Men in these societies are happy in their subordinate roles to women. While there are some incidents of jealousy, there is no violence, crime, or sexual perversion. Men are focused on pleasing their wives instead of impressing other women in the group or competing with other men, except in the area of being good sex providers. Wives will keep this competition light and fun and ongoing. Men focused on this kind of competition do not compete with each other in other ways either, leading to much stronger male/male friendships and cooperation.

An unlikely place further confirmation of the appropriateness of cuckolding in human bonding relationships was discovered in the findings of primate studies. In one study, researchers found two anatomical influencers of fidelity in primates. One was the physical size difference between the sexes. The other was the male’s ratio of penis size to body mass.

It was found that in those species of primates where the female was considerably larger than the male, the female would have many sexual partners and bond with none. As female/male size became closer, the female would bond with one male. This male would remain faithful to her, but she would continue to have sex with non-bonded males. It was found that this was not reversed until the male became extremely larger than the female.

The second influencer the researchers discovered was the ratio of penis size to body mass. In species where the difference in physical size between the sexes was slight, (as it is in humans) the penis to body size ratio increased female dominated sexual behavior. The smaller the penis to body size, the more bonded males were restricted to activity with only their mate while females would engage in sexual activity with a variety of non-bonded males. Within these groups, females would generally bond with males with smaller penises and engage in sexual activity with better-endowed, non-bonded males. The most common activity between females and their mates was grooming and eating, with the far greater amount of sexual activity occurring between mated females and males other than their mates. Neither mated nor non-mated females would engage in sexual activity with bonded males who were not their own mates. The most frequent sexual activity of bonded males was masturbation.

This study particularly intrigued me because it’s findings correlated so closely with my own experiences. I have assisted many couples in beginning and maintaining cuckold relationships. Among my patients, husbands with smaller penises were not only more agreeable to being cuckolded, but would even sometimes suggest it. These very enlightened, lesser-endowed, husbands were keenly aware of their inability to satisfy their wives sexually. By accepting their wives engaging in sex with other men they were relieved of the pressure to perform.

It makes sense that this behavior would be present in humans since humans are primates whose difference in size between the sexes is slight and men’s penises are very small when compared to their body mass. Also interesting is that women, like other primate females, will rarely engage in sex with married men. A husband’s wedding band makes for a fairly efficient chastity device.. A wife’s wedding band, however, does little and sometimes even encourages pursuit by men. This further illustrates that the innate human proclivity for cuckold relationships goes genetically even deeper.

Our modern morals and the female/male roles imposed on us by society are not only aberrant behavior given our genetic make up, but psychologically unhealthy and morally unethical. It is unfair that a woman is forced to repress the powerful sex drives that are so genetically imbedded in her psyche. Most married woman simply can’t do it. It is uncountable today how many wives are having sex with other men behind their husband’s back because our society cannot accept a woman’s natural needs.

At what point did we move from a matriarchal to a patriarchal society that perverted our male and female sexual roles? We have so inverted out ideas of human sexuality that we have come to believe that women have a lower sex drive than men when the reverse is true. We think that men should be free to have sex unbridled, when it is women who should be freed and men bridled. We have created a society in which women struggle with guilt and frustration over their natural sexual needs while men are obsessed with perverted sexual deviations from far too great an access to far to great a variety of sexual stimuli and freedom.

Just as our modern lives preventing us from responding to our need to express our flight or fight response leads to stress, and our turning from whole foods to processed foods give us all sorts of physical ailments, our denial of our natural sexual programming leads to untold emotional and behavioral problems. It would startle the average person to learn how many divorces are caused by the inequity of a woman’s unfulfilled sexual needs. In an effort to protect the man from humiliation it is rarely mentioned in polite society that the reason for a couple’s divorce was because the wife was finding sexual satisfaction outside their marriage. If we could be open and honest about a women’s needs, and that it is not the fault of their husbands that they need to fulfill those needs outside their marriages, then maybe we could begin to embrace cuckoldry as a healthy societal norm and save far more marriages..

I have saved many marriages in my practice by gently introducing the idea and practice of cuckoldry to struggling couples. I have seen in my own female patients that once they start to engage in sex outside their marriage with the acceptance of their husbands and the security that their husbands will remain faithful, they become more centered, calm and confident. Similarly, once their husbands get past their jealous feelings and fear of inadequacy they become calmer and more mature, no longer engaging in childish behavior like nights out with the boys or an obsession with sports. They even loose their interest in pornography as their wives recounting of their extramarital exploits, or their participation in those exploits, becomes much more titillating to them than the artificial titillation of pornography.

When my female clients add the uncertainty principle of arousal and denial to their cuckold marriage a woman can bring her husband back to the days when they were first dating. Husbands become more focused on their wives and no longer suffer the frustrating feelings caused by a desire for unattainable women

Cuckold marriages can evolve into a great variety of preferences. In my own practice I have seen cuckold marriages that range from those in which cuckolding wives enjoy subjecting their husband’s to humiliation and punishment, to those in which wives will have sex with other men in front of her husband as a form of entertaining them, to just about everything in between. Most couples in my practice, however, have very loving marriages with playful arousal and denial that seem conventional in every way except that the wife dates while her husband remains faithfully hers.

It is regretful that the cuckold relationships of Victorian times could not have evolved into an open way of life accepted by modern society. It is my hope that one day it will.

 Love in Cathedral Heights-PART TWO

Gerry lay rigid, feeling the delicious tingle of the lubed dental floss that Miss Helen was rubbing around his straining, drooling erection. First she'd stick right below the pulsing now violet cock head, and then pull up and down the shaft.

Miss Helen was a beautiful Southern redhead, and as she pulled the string back and forth round the shaft, her breasts jiggled in the snug tank-top...At forty-seven Helen's tits might not ignore gravity, but they winked at it a little...Gerald just couldn't take his eyes off them. When the floss became dry, Miss Helen would re-immerse it in the lotion...

It'd been an hour of this, punctuated by brief, no release hand jobs...

"Miss Helen, Please I don't want to complain the way I did about the feather torture..."

"What did that get you, Gerald?" Miss Helen dragged the floss further down the shaft, pulling it back up towards the purple mushroom...

"Answer me!"

"You locked me back up for two weeks...the floss is okay...Just...I'm soo...uh..." his dick felt like a missile ready to go off. The light touch of the greasy floss, further inflamed by his excellent view of Helen's ballooning cleavage straining against the tank-top as she bent over to pull the string just a little more.

When he'd met Miss Helen Gerry was a confused and somewhat pudgy trust-fund baby, whose ambition was to drum for Metallica. His adolescence had been a myriad of prep school expulsions, wrecked Mazdas, pregnant girlfriends, and methadone maintenance.

Hell he'd only gotten into Georgetown because Uncle Will was a generous alumnus; and had moved to Miss Helen's because he'd been kicked out of a frat for hazing too hard...

"Only A I ever got was when I cheated on the exam..."was one of his old yearbook quotes,..."Scary Gerry" was ashamed of nothing except his kinky fantasies...Ooh, the

Finally she tossed the strand into a wastebasket and began casually stroking the underside of his cock with her crimson tipped fingers.

"There is a large purple vein, Gerald...IF you took up drug addiction again this would be the place to inject...Ooh your juices are soaking my finger...Lick it off, please."

Gerry sucked the pre cum off his landlady's long fingernail as if it were a dildo, and withdrawing her finger, Helen opened the end table drawer and took out some Scotch tape.

"Do you like what I do to your wee-wee Gerald?"? Helen wrapped a bit of tape around Gerry's foreskin..."Yes ma'am...The teasing is so heavy sometimes."

"It's what you begged for, remember?" Helen wrapped more tape around the shaft gradually working her way down the frenum. "You begged to for it, remember? Dumped your little sorority girlfriend, quit running with your friends for the TEEASE, Gerald..."

At first she'd teased the excited nineteen year old for only short periods, his hands bound behind...she always let him cum within an hour or two sometimes twice if he brought helped to clean the house,. .then one night, no cumming.

"What's wrong?" Gerry had asked.

"There are rewards and punishments, Gerald..." The house was to be spot less, the ponytail and beard would be replaced with a crew cut and clean shave; 500 daily chin ups, push-ups and sit ups for Gerry; a mile a day of running with Miss Helen shouting encouragement from her car window; turning over his allowance and credit cards for her to manage; and STUDYING.

Every test or quiz score over 95 would be rewarded by long, heavy teasing and then orgasm; 85-80 resulted in long, LONG teases ending with horrible ice dropped on his swelling scrotum; no release...

"Why oh why can't you do better academically, Gerald? Don't scream darling, the ice isn't that bad" and below a score of 79 there was no teasing; just fifty with the strap and two nights in the closet...with all this effort there was no time for parties anymore.

One day "Gerald Morin" was on the dean's list! And the tennis team? His former friends were astonished...Not only did he look great and was summa cum laude...but for the first time since his twelfth year,

"Scary Gerry" was addicted to nothing--no tobacco, booze or drugs, and needed no methadone or support groups. All he was addicted to were his landlady's wandering, lubricated fingers--and that was a secret. College and then law school professors, and finally employers said the same thing

"That boy is DRIVEN!" The last time, this compliment came from a firm partner, as the brilliant young associate limped by, butt swelling, and confined erection overloaded, because the firms aging trademark expert had lower standards for a well-written brief than Miss Helen did...

But he'd endured it, and now..."Is the tape irritating you, Gerald?" Helen smiled, Gerry could see her nipples poking through the tank top...

"Its all right sweetie.. I'm sorry about my temper over the feather incident..." Mollified, the trusting prisoner complained a little.

"Well, the tape is really sticky and my dick is so hard." It had been Gerry's suggestion, fourteen years ago, that he purchase a good chastity belt, selling his Harley-Davidson to order several different European models, with Helen holding keys, of course... "Oh, sweetie...I'll take the tape off...it'll be all better, my precious boy." Then one night was it she or him? who proposed, good grades or not, a month of total chastity belted celibacy, with thirty evenings of frustrating no-release milkings...

" Thank you Miss Helen for removing the tape...YEAAGH! YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO RIP IT OFF?" Crying now, Gerry's cock was scalding from the quick er, removal of the tape...Helen was laughing...

"It's not (Sob!) funny! IT HURTS!" Helen instantly quit laughing and looked quite annoyed. Tossing the crumpled tape into the trash, she arched her back, breasts rising majestically.

"You seem to complain at the end of every tease-day now. .first whining over the feather, and now the tape...I think I'll quit, you obviously don't WANT to orgasm..." No, NO.

"Please, Miss Helen" Gerry wailed. "I can't take it...it's been over a hundred, hundred and five days now...I won't complain!" Though he used to get milkings daily, with orgasms each day, eventually Miss Helen who needed her hands to have energy for her work as a stylist, had limited the sessions to twice a month, on alternate Sundays...

This happened after Gerry had made partner, and was habitually a hard worker.. "Gerald, the whippings will remain if you falter in work or housework, or even if your Saturday rugby team loses too many games, but the rewards will be fewer, a good bloodhound needs nothing but the joy of the hunt." with Gerry, having discarded the chastity belt to wear a cock piercing of two rings, one at the tip and the other at the scrotum, which locked the penis in a non-masturbatable arc.

Gerry could get aroused playing with it, but no cumming...And any excuse on these play days would cause Miss Helen to re-lock the poor boy back up for another frustrating two weeks...it had been well over three months now...couldn't he mollify her somehow?

"Please Miss Helen (sniff) I won't complain anymore. Please don't stop now..."his voice broke, watching her get up off the bed and walk out the door.

"I'll consider it, Gerald...I'm going to get some tea now."
* * * * *

It was nearly four o'clock, Miss Helen had taken about two hours to have her tea. Gerry was attempting to waggle his penis with his torso, hoping vainly that he could make it squirt...but no go! It might have been easier if he didn't have the desires of a compulsive masturbator, and the semen was certainly built up...Water had been running in the bathroom...

Would she come back? About seven years ago, he'd decided to leave Helen for a while; sick of the early bedtimes, teetotaling, no partying and no "fun" He wanted to date a few girls his age, damn it! After about six weeks in a cocaine drenched love-triangle with a nineteen year old waitress and a gorgeous blond paralegal, both of whom had dumped him for his strange desires...he'd called Helen, crying from a detox ward...

"Coming home, Gerald?" Forgiveness came readily, but he'd not squirted for an entire summer! Now, thinking about it, he'd been such a fool, though the life here could be tough. Where is she right now?

"Well, how have you enjoyed your respite?" Helen wandered back in. She had taken a long bath, changed her tank top to one of her little t-shirts that accentuated the boobs and exposed the midriff, and some white short-shorts...

"I couldn't tell whether you wanted me to quit or not." Giving him a mischievous smile, Helen sat down on the bed and placed a manicured forefinger on the tip of his cock.

"You seem so emotional."

"I'm calm now, Miss Helen, really I am...please let me cum today!"

"Whine, Whine...I think you need to get out

of this bed..."Gerry panicked inside, wondering if he would be locked for another fifteen days, and relegated to more housework. Helen undid his hands and feet, and pulling out some handcuffs from the drawer.

Motioning the naked attorney to stand up and turn, she cuffed his hands behind his back, and led him out of the bedroom by the head of his burgeoning penis. Following her, Gerry's arms and legs felt quite stiff, as befitted someone who had been in four-point restraints since the early morning As they cme into her old fashioned "sitting room" he noticed the grandfather clock. Four thirty! No wonder he could barely move, he'd been in bondage for hours...

They sat on the familiar couch where Helen had given him so many over the arm-rest bare bottom razor stroppings...The couch where he was allowed to watch one football game a year-the Superbowl He had to earn it, though--

This year he'd viewed the game wearing a frilly oversized pink dress with a little-girl bow in the back, something out of the 1920's...complete with big flowery hat, white socks and Mary Janes and white parasol-since his hands were cuffed it was propped next to him for the duration of the game.

He'd worn no panties since his butt, blistered from a pre-game stropping, housed a cucumber the size of a Louisville Slugger, it seemed. "I got it at the Farmer's Market, Gerald...your regular dildo is getting chipped."

The Super bowl went fine until she'd blindfolded Gerry for the last 10 minutes of the game...

"I polished all the silverware in this dress so you'd let me see the whole game, Miss Helen!" Tears coming down from the kerchief..."Don't whine, Gerald, this is to test your listening skills...the announcer will tell you how things are going, he isn't as irritating as Howard Cosell ."

Now, she looked over at him. "I think you should get off the couch, Gerald...Kneel on the hassock right next to it...It'll help you stretch." She smiled mischievously. He obeyed, climbing on the hassock on his knees.

Immediately, Miss Helen reached over and began stroking his cock. She was so close that she could do this without having to lean over. It was quite comfortable for her..."Kneel up straight, dear as we did at the eight a.m. Mass." Gerry straightened his naked body.

This was even harder than the bed--he had to balance his handcuffed form, knees pressured, staying ramrod straight while Miss Helen tickled his throbbing member with her nail tips...what if he fell over?

The phone rang. Helen reached for the phone next to the couch with her left hand, the right still making poor Gerry crazy. "Hello, oh hi Miguel..."Her tongue was between her lips, arousing her straight soldier further. Miguel? Not the firm's most arrogant mail boy who he had dispatched to change the oil and wash Helen's hot-pink Austin Healy 500, a present from Gerry last spring, Gerry had ordered Miguel to do these chores or be fired, as the little creep had used the firm's courier service to pay a late bill.

Let him know whose in charge, you know? That was two months ago, Miguel had been over since then to rake leaves...But I was out of town...

"Motley Crue? I love them!" Helen giggled, leaning into the phone. But I was whipped for buying their CD, Gerry thought. "Try a little Brahms, Gerald." Miss Helen had said.

But now, "God, I'd love to go...Miguel, you're so sweet" She squealed like a schoolgirl. She reached a long nail under Gerry's scrotum and began toying with his full balls. Propping the phone on one shoulder Helen took her other hand and began manipulating the shaft, shooting Gerry a warning look as his shoulders seemed to be losing posture.

His butt was falling towards the backs of his legs as well.

"Mr. Morin? He can't stay out that late, he's in bed by eight." Gerry's face burned. Does she have to tell the world I have the bedtime of a nine-year old?

Helen was massaging faster as the conversation grew hotter "Do you think a lot about me, Miguel...you can tell me...I'm your sweetheart!" She pumped the shaft, and Gerry felt a wonderful, surging in his granite-hard cock as he hadn't felt in a hundred five days...oh, this is worth it all, I love her...His hips began shaking

violently, and he closed his eyes...now, now...NOW...yes, please...Gerry dropped his head to his chest, and waited for the blast. Suddenly Helen dropped his genitals as if they were a hot potato...she swung her legs over into a lying position.

She lit a Marlboro, and smiled at his face. ."Why should I quit smoking if you won't?" he asked years before.

"Adults can smoke, Gerald, but you'll always be a sniveling schoolboy." was the answer. Now she puffed away, talking kittenishly into the phone

"Oh Miguel, of course I enjoyed Thursday. You told Mr. Morin you were sick? I won't tell...the picnic was nice, and I didn't mind paying for the room at that little inn...Mr. Morin's platinum card can be very generous."

Helen watched Gerry, crushed at the sudden cease of the near-orgasmic experience, about to slump on the hassock. She put her hand over the phone.

" Keep kneeling with good posture, that's right straighten up or you won't cum til Labor Day...remember, Gerald, the Fourth of July isn't even here yet." She stopped her hiss to chuckle at the tear rolling down the now straightened Gerald's cheek. She went back to her conversation.

Gerry was in bad shape. His penis was in pain from suddenly not squirting, and still quite engorged, he had a serious need to pee, his legs were cramping from kneeling nearly forty minutes, and there was the unbelievable conversation...

"No, Mr. Morin's never told me I performed fellatio well, Miguel, it's not a part of our relationship." She sucked the little bastard's cock? "He's very rigid, Mr. Morin is...Sweetie, call me tomorrow and we'll plan for the concert. We can spend the night at the little Inn again. Goodbye."

Love In Cathedral Heights

by justincbenedict©


"Where IS she?" Gerry moaned...It's been forty-five minutes... My dick hurts, I can't stand it!

* * * * *

Danielle, owner of the salon where Helen was a stylist often remarked that her star employee sounded like an art historian and dressed like Joan Jett...

"Must be the cute young lawyer who rents from you, huh?" Dani kidded...Helen looked great today outside the coffee shop, spiky red hair, tank top (no bra) and tiny leather miniskirt. Her new fishnet stockings looked great too...Gerry had hooked the garters that morning, trembling...

It's great that I still can do that to him at nearly fifty, she thought. One of Helen's ivory hands, the long nails colored the same flaming red as the hair and lipstick, absently stroked a collie's ear, the other held a bottle of Johnson's Baby Lotion, purchased twenty minutes before at that awful CVS drugstore a block down.

Gerry preferred Astroglide, but this would do. She'd been gone an hour now, what with coffee and shopping...was Gerry all right? If anything happened after all, he couldn't move. Helen smiled, and sipped some of her latte. Strange to worry this time, after fourteen years of this. The stove was off, the door locked. He must be squirming.

* * * * *

Gerald David Morin, 33-year old patent attorney and first year partner at Gideon, Shapiro and Burling tried to stretch his arms...no, he couldn't move them, not an inch.

Jesus, I curl 175 but Helen makes the ropes fuckin' tight. Why isn't she back? Gerry lay spread eagled on Helen's four poster bed, his broad chest taut, and hands and feet tied by tight nylon cord to each wooden banister.

Naked as always, his pierced dick struggling in its weird loop, the cock head attached by a ring to a tiny padlock in another ring just above the scrotum. Impossibly, pre cum seemed to be oozing across his ball sack. Helen had just been going to unlock it when she realized they were out of lubricant. It had been more than an hour...where the hell was she?

Though it had been Gerry who begged that they switch him from the chastity belt to pierced rings in '98, he sometimes regretted it. He had to sit down to pee, like a girl . He hadn't used a urinal in five years. And now his dick really hurt right now, and looked ridiculous in its constant tremble...trembling because its natural instinct was to stick straight up, not to be hooked to his balls...stick straight up and wait for Helen's wandering fingers.

"Do you want to go with a bunch of us to Great Falls this weekend?" Marsha, a summer associate in her early twenties had asked on Friday...

"I'm going to be wearing cut-offs and splashing my feet after all the work on this case." Gerry had imagined she'd look good in cut-offs... His penis had struggled against the ring then, making a teeny tent in his Brooks Brothers summer trousers.

"I can't." He tried to smile.

"Gerry NEVER goes out with us. Wasn't even at the Christmas party." Ann, a second-year associate with bouncing auburn curls who'd flirted with Gerry since her first day at Gideon interrupted.

" I think he has a curfew or something ...Look! He's BLUSHING!" The women's laughter had tinkled cruelly...but Ann was so close. Not a only a curfew but a BEDTIME. Thirty-three years old, and he'd never seen "Law and Order" because it was on after eight- thirty. Sometimes he could stay up until nine if Helen felt like a little cunnilingus or a massage, but usually she got that BEFORE dinner.

Helen loved him, and she knew best...Gerry's reverie was interrupted by the door opening. For a minute he panicked...What if it were the old Miss Hall from the dog park? Did she have a key? Oh Shit.

"Hello, sweetie, I'm back." came the familiar lilting Southern tones...Oh, thank God. Helen came into the room, tucking in her tank top, which of course made her chest balloon...

"What have you been doing?" An old joke, they both laughed. She sat on her stool by the bed, and took the key off the bedside table. "Ooh, it's purple...you don't need me." Helen smiled at his agonized look, and unlocked the tiny padlock between the rings. Gerry's penis shot up to attention.

"Like one of my daddy's recruits at Fort Benning." Helen, a former army brat said, laughing, and took the lotion out of the bag. Seeing Gerry's disappointment at her purchase, she cocked her head.

"What did you want me to do Gerald, drive down to the Pleasure Chest?"

"God you're beautiful, Miss Helen" Even after he'd discovered they both had subscriptions to "Leg Tease" after he'd rented her basement his sophomore year at Georgetown.

"You're a cutie too, my Gerald" Helen began gently rubbing the lotion into the underside of his now furious and quite violet member...

"Thank you ma'am...ooh that's good...I'm so horny..." A sharp flick of a fire-engine nail on the cock head "er- I mean aroused" Though she'd left Vanderbilt after her first year Miss Helen was still an educated woman and frowned on slang.

Gerry had never really felt comfortable going to a first-name basis with Helen; but she'd allowed him to go from Mrs. O'Neill to Miss Helen on their fifth anniversary; when he'd signed over his first Gideon paycheck.

After rubbing and stroking his penis for about five minutes, Helen stood up, and Gerry caught a flash of the garter attaching her net stockings. God, I'm glad I bought her that miniskirt, her legs are better than Ann's.

"What...what's wrong? Why are you getting up?" It was feeling so good, too..."Sweetie, I have to go in the kitchen and feed Victoria and Albert...I'll be back..." His penis wagging like a metronome, Gerry tried to smile.

A tantrum wouldn't work, being trussed like this. Not to mention that Miss Helen could lock him right back up again, as she'd done in the past when Gerry had summarily ordered her to keep stroking...

As Helen only gave him a "teasing" every other Sunday morning, with release averaging about once every 90 days ("So you have something to look forward to, Gerald; remember, an expectation is a resentment waiting to happen") it behooved the K Street law community's patent and trademark expert to keep his remarks prudent.

"Aah...take your time, Miss Helen. I'll bathe the dogs for you later on." If he kissed up enough, maybe today would be cum-day...maybe.

Helen smiled, gently pushed a fluffier pillow under her captive's head, and she left the room, her derriere twitching in the skirt as the door closed. Gerry sighed and bent his chin on his chest to watch the juices flowing from his miserable, enthralled and utterly unsatisfied "wee-wee"

A fortnight earlier, Helen had made the shaft of it buck, supported by Gerry's hips, as she'd alternated for five hours between her glorious fingers and an ostrich feather that she'd picked up at the Georgetown flea market.

After about 20 minutes of feather-rubbing the area just under his cock head, Gerry had burst into tears, begging Helen to quit, and she'd immediately, to his chagrin ceased the entire tease, icing his member til it was flaccid for the evil padlock.

"No, don't stop COMPLETELY..." he'd begged, tears and mucus running down his cheeks...but she'd locked him, untied him and put him to work scrubbing her five bathrooms..."A more productive occupation anyway, Gerald for an enterprising youngster on a weekend afternoon ."No cumming for another two weeks. Damn! DAMN!

He'd primed himself to be ready for the feather's ministrations today, but Helen's mind was fertile with surprises...in fourteen years he'd never been able to predict her next move!

Gerry had interrupted a deposition last Wednesday to duck into a restroom stall to uh, prep for the upcoming Sunday feather, when he remembered again as he had several times in the past decade that, although he could stimulate his cock as long as he liked, lubing with that vile pink soap the firm had, it was to no avail...though he averaged five bathroom trips a day for this sordid purpose.

With the evil padlock there was NO RELEASE. Back to the meeting he'd trudge, ball sack leaden.

"Don't you ever give up?" Miss Helen often asked, arching one eyebrow. "Just use the lavatory for its correct purpose, Gerald." as she clucked over the scabs the cheap pink liquid left on his unsatisfied erections.

Once when he threw a tantrum over wanting the padlock removed before cum-day, she'd replaced it with a steel ball hooked to the rings, and batted it between his legs with a spoon as Gerry writhed in pain. It didn't help that nearly every night, he was giving her gorgeous 36DD breasts a scented oil massage, and spending two hours or so (before dinner)between her legs...He was hornier, and she was fine!

A few weeks ago Gerry had begun crying when he realized he was licking someone's semen out of her vagina...his penis had certainly never been down there, and she soothed him..."Just an old friend I saw..."

It's worth it though, he thought now, bound to the bed, Bring on the feather, I'm ready. "I'm back, Gerald." Helen swished back in..."Victoria is really enjoying the leftover bacon...Did you miss me?" Gerry nodded weakly, and watched Helen sit down and prop a plastic box of dental floss on her fishnet thigh.

"Miss Helen has a surprise today..." She smiled, and pulled a bit of floss out of the box. Was she going to tend to her teeth, before bringing out the horrible feather? Snapping off a piece of floss about seven inches long Helen then squirted a bit of lotion in her left hand, and, floss in her right, rubbed both hands together. What was this?

Helen then took the greasy strand between the fingers of both hands, and looped it around Gerry's straining cock, in that sensitive area just beneath the head where the feather had visited two Sundays before. And then holding the ends between the crimson tipped thumb and forefinger of each hand, Helen began pulling the string back and forth... END OF PART ONE

slater
Male Dominant, 43
Male Submissive, 35, White Plains, New York
slavric
Male Submissive, 57, Flint, Michigan
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Male Dominant, 46, Emmaus, Pennsylvania
Male Submissive, 50, Temple, Texas
Male Submissive, 41, Portsmouth, New Hampshire
Male Submissive, 21, San Jose, California
Male Submissive, 54, MontrealQuebec
Male Submissive, 28, rochester, New York
slate0620
Male Dominant, 33, Columbus, Ohio
Slade
Male Dominant, 37, White Bear Lake, Minnesota