My Mistress, My Accountant 4

by Bob Salinas

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© Copyright 2003 - Bob Salinas - Used by permission

Storycodes: FF/m; bond; vacbed; slave; cbt; cons; X

(story continues from )

Part Four

The seventh day

During the night I spent a fair amount of time banging around ideas for my new project- for some reason I wake up a lot when I’m bound, and so far my sleep this week had been intermittent. Before this story began, I did a lot of self-bondage play and even tried a couple of self-bondage experiments that went all night, and those occasions proved that a good solid night’s sleep while bound is well-nigh impossible.

My A-number-one self-bondage scene, I think, was the time I borrowed a barn and arranged to spread-eagle myself in the loft. Ropes from all four limbs were anchored to a steel spike in a hole in a big beam, and the spike would be pulled out by the weight of a heavy piece of steel rail except for the weight of five big cans of water. I had planned it so when the cans were only half full their weight would be enough to hold up the rail, but I had drilled small holes in the cans. When they leaked most of their water, the rail would overbalance the weight of the cans and pull the spike which held my limbs spread. I had securely bound myself with a gag and a ball-stretcher and a butt plug and I was cross-dressed in sexy lingerie, really wound up and super-horny. By the time morning rolled around and the cans lost enough water to free me, I was achy and creaky beyond belief ( but not too creaky for a huge cum!) That taught me something about overnight bondage, for sure. I woke up a lot of times and got so horny that I was ready to scream! It was a great night but I didn’t get much sleep.

So by the time my Mistresses woke I had a concept going. After our usual playful communal shower and breakfast, my Mistresses took me to the dungeon and allowed me a last use of the Throne while they watched and commented crudely. (Why is it that delicate-looking women can be so crude with a helpless submissive slave?) Then they showed me to my seat at my very own drawing board. I was becoming used to my seat here, even though the extended periods of time I was spending on the butt plug were threatening to destroy my virginal tightness! After my Mistresses ensured that I was firmly locked to the drawing board, Mistress Iris went off to visit clients and Mistress Monica went off to do her own thing; I was alone for the day.

So I sketched and fantasized and drew, eventually coming up with a general plan of a ramp about 30 inches wide which would run from the floor to the eight-foot ceiling at an angle of about 60 degrees, which a bit of trigonometry showed would make the ramp a bit over nine feet long. The ramp would really be just two wooden rails, and on those rails would roll a thing like a mechanic’s creeper, only without a wooden seat; I had to allow access to the victim’s back and butt. The victim (me, in this case) would be bound on this creeper, which would be slowly lowered down the length of the ramp by an electric motor. On the way down, the victim would pass under a weed-whacker motor which would do bad things to my nipples, and over another which would do similarly bad things to my ass. When I finally reached the bottom of the ramp, a butt plug would be waiting, and the creeper would lower me ever so slowly onto it. There were refinements, of course, but that’s the general idea.

That afternoon, Mistress Monica returned at about 3 and let herself into the workshop. (They simply hung the keys to the dungeon and workshop on a hook on the other side of the dungeon door.) “Hello there- it’s good to see you didn’t wander off! Have you had any great ideas for your own abuse?” I showed her my working drawings, and she pretty much approved. “Good job- I bet you used a lot of your hardware expertise developing items for your own abuse.” I smiled wryly. “Yes, I did, Mistress- I developed some rather elaborate scenarios of self-bondage, but I didn’t get into self-abuse too much; it’s not nearly as good by yourself.”

“True- having a capable Mistress puts you ‘over the top’. But I have an idea- as it is, the machine will lower you gradually onto the plug at the bottom. To eliminate the protracted agony of the slow, gradual penetration of your tender asshole, why not have it lower you until you’re about six inches up and then WHAM!! drop you on it?” She grinned at the expression on my face; the thought of WHAM!! right up my ass! was a bit shocking. However, I agreed that her idea was a good one and quickly figured out an approach.

When Mistress Iris came home that night at about 8, she was too fatigued to do more than give Mistress Monica blanket approval to make changes. The three of us went to the bedroom, where Mistress Iris had me strip naked and then tied my crossed hands behind my back to the waist belt of my chastity belt; there was to be no ‘manual labor’ tonight. As I stood in the corner awaiting my chance to be of service, both Mistresses stripped naked (oh, for an erection and one hand!) and then pulled on filmy bits of nothingness which displayed more than covered their bodies. Mistress Iris noticed my longing gaze and smiled.

“Slave Bob, you look eager! I trust you are eager to service my horny twat, because you know you are not yet ready for your first orgasm of your own.” I nodded sad acquiescence. “Hmmm... I’m really tired, so tonight I’ll let you do all the work.”

She lay back on the bed and slipped into Mistress Monica’s inviting arms before she pulled up her knees and spread her thighs. I knelt at the foot of the bed and squirmed up enough to put my face in the appropriate place, where I worked earnestly for half of the night, it seemed, before Mistress Iris had two massive orgasms. That wasn’t all for me- Mistress Monica was horny too, especially after watching Mistress Iris’ orgasms at close range, and I moved over to service her eager twat for another orgasm before she was ready to sleep. Me? I was incredibly horny, but the accursed chastity belt I had locked on myself did an excruciatingly good job, and I merely lay quietly until I fell into a fitful sleep.

The eighth day

The next morning, both Mistresses woke in a happy mood- I guess multiple orgasms will do that! (Damn... just one cheap cum... was that too much to ask?) After the usual playful morning shower with the two Mistresses, I served up a good breakfast and then let them escort me down to the workshop. This morning I was to be allowed to begin construction of my ‘infernal machine’, and for practical reasons I would be left unbound in the workshop. Wow!

They left together, bolting the door from the outside. Alone and locked in the workshop, as usual naked except for my chastity belt, I had at my project and had the machine basically put together when Mistress Monica returned at 3 like usual. I told her that I was temporarily stopped because I needed some hardware. She left me to go upstairs and brought back an armful of clothing. Her clothing! “Come on, slave- get dressed! This clothing is generic enough that you’ll be able to get away with it unless you do something dumb. Let’s get started.”

Blushing furiously, I pulled her bikini panties over my chastity belt and then fumbled to fasten her lacy white pushup bra around my chest. She watched intently as I pulled its straps up over my shoulders, which hoisted my tits and for a moment gave me some cleavage. “Nice tits, slave!” “Thank you, Mistress- I hope to please you.” “You did well last night! I take it you’ve cross-dressed before, slave Bob?” “Ummm... yes, I have, Mistress Monica. I have a fair lingerie collection at home. But I’m not gay!”, I added defensively. “Yeah, I know- just kinky. But I believe you- cross-dressers are usually straight. Now slip these on.” 

She handed me a blouse- a cotton print that fit, but just barely. I suppose my larger chest made up for her boobs. Next she passed me a pair of black stretch pants, and I managed to pull them on. They were too short, but manageable. They were really snug, too, but the stretch fabric let me get them buckled and belted around my waist. Mistress Monica leered and fondled my ass, which I must admit was pretty shapely when the pants did their bit.

After letting me pull on my own shoes, she looked me over. “Good enough. Now let me put on some makeup and eye shadow!” “Oh, please, Mistress!” After jerking my chain for a while, she relented and then took me on a trip to the good old Home Depot, the supply center for the handy pervert! I really felt like a pervert, wandering around the hardware department dressed in my Mistress’ clothing with her underwear over my chastity belt. I almost died at the checkout counter when the clerk (a stocky young girl whose breasts seemed ready to spill out of the bra which showed through her gaping blouse) gave a second and third look at my body and smiled at us, but nothing else happened.

When we returned, Mistress Iris was waiting and looked at me with surprise. “Why, slave Bob, you look very pretty today! Come on, get undressed so we can have dinner.” Blushing even more, I slowly took off my shoes. With both Mistress Iris and Mistress Monica watching me closely, I tried to be graceful (and ladylike?) as I removed my blouse and pants. “You know, I really like that! With your underwear over his chastity belt, Monica, he’s halfway to being a real girl!” “Yeah... I thought about jumping her bones in the store, but I decided to share her with you!” Shit... I blushed all the way through dinner.

After dinner I quickly finished my project with the unwitting aid of Home Depot. Unwitting? Hell, the kinques among us require expert assistance too! When my Mistresses came down the stairs and entered the dungeon, I had the infernal machine assembled and ready. “Slave Bob, you have done well. Come here, please.” Mistress Monica gestured me to my old friend the X-cross, which coincidentally faced the machine; I stepped up obediently and waited as she strapped me firmly to it. Mistress Iris has been poking through the toys on the wall, and as Mistress Monica finished immobilizing me she walked over with a pair of weights on chains. She quickly clipped them to my nipple rings and lowered them to hang against my belly. “Ohhhh... thank you, Mistress!”

She smiled briefly and returned to Mistress Monica, who spoke to me. “You see, Bob, even though to you I’m a Dominant- and don’t you ever forget it- I enjoy playing with all sorts of toys. Heck, sex play is sex play!” (I wondered which of them was Dom when they played kinky games together, but of course it was not my place to know.) As we watched, Mistress Monica peeled off her 60's style hippie-babe dress- under which she wore only her skin, appropriate to the usual hippie babe- and stood before me naked. I’d seen her naked a number of times before, but it was always a delight!

My Mistresses walked over to my machine, which was all set up and ready to ‘function at the junction’. Mistress Monica pulled over the stool and Mistress Iris helped her to step up and seat herself on the creeper, which at the moment was parked halfway up the incline. She slipped her knees over the supports and waited as Mistress Iris fastened the straps to hold her victim’s knees spread. She settled herself in its embrace and relaxed, allowing her butt to sway below the creeper; the full cheeks of her ass were exposed and separated.  I had a glorious view of her wide-spread crotch, her pussy lips which were open far enough to expose her puckered pussy, and below it her asshole. With a bit of foresight, I could see my own helpless vulnerability replacing hers- just not as attractive!

“Hey, I think I like this!“ Mistress Iris stepped to her and lightly stroked her thighs. “Ohhh....” For several minutes Mistress Iris played with Mistress Monica’s ‘naughty bits’; both of them were enjoying themselves immensely. “Okay, Iris, that’s enough. Let me down, please.” Mistress Iris continued what she was doing for a minute, during which Mistress Monica impatiently endured her attentions, and then (I suppose deferring to the necessity of both of them maintaining Mistress-like decorum in front of a slave) took her mouth off Mistress Monica’s eager tits and released her. Mistress Monica hopped down from the Infernal Machine and happily hugged Mistress Iris.

Finally pulling free of Mistress Monica, she stepped in front of me so I could watch her slowly peel out of her business suit to reveal the best of Victoria’s Secret underneath. I wonder- did Victoria have a chastity-belt clad slave straining toward her as she unveiled her Secrets? Damn bitch!

So, after Mistress Iris finally stood before me in only her skimpy underwear, they removed the weights (which by that time felt like boat anchors) from my nipples and released me from the X-cross. I moved the creeper up to its starting position higher on the incline and then swung myself up to my destination on the creeper. Mistress Iris pulled a strap snug around my waist to secure me in place while Mistress Monica used more straps to bind my legs and knees spread wide and raised- a position which left my asshole woefully vulnerable. Mistress Iris pulled my wrists up and strapped them to the creeper near my shoulders, laying my chest bare for what I knew was coming.

My Mistress Iris stepped back and plugged something in to something else; three awful things happened at the same time. First, a pair of Weed-Whacker units over me began to spin, their cords stinging across the skin of my stomach with every rotation. Secondly, a second pair of Weed-Whacker units under me began to spin, their cords stinging the backs of my thighs diagonally with every rotation. Thirdly, a motor began to turn, lowering the creeper and my body further into the torture of the Whackers!

Mistress Iris stepped up close and watched as the turning of the screw lowered me relentlessly into the machine. Interminable minutes later, the whacker cords were striking the lower surface of my breasts painfully just as the whackers below were striking  up between my ass-cheeks. In another moment, the strip of pain across my breasts was rising toward my nipples. Damn, that hurt!

The repeated slaps across my tits came closer and closer to my nipples, millimeter by millimeter. No matter how much I struggled I was unable to avoid the inevitable moment when the cord slashed down across my nipples, getting both at the same time. The pain was unbelievable!

As the slashing cord passed my nipples, the cord below struck between the cheeks of my ass; this whacker was aimed almost crossways to the other. Just as my nipples cleared the upper cords, the cords from below struck between my ass-cheeks and stung my defenseless, often-penetrated asshole. I watched as my Mistresses cuddled and watched as I struggled to avoid the pain- no way, I had built well.

Then, fortunately, the whackers passed out of range and my pain eased as they switched off. At first I was relieved at the cessation of the pain, and then I recalled what was to happen next! As the screw slowly turned, the creeper slowly lowered, and the screw finally slipped out of its sleeve. When the last thread finally cleared, the creeper lost its support, and I plunged downward. I dropped six inches downward, and fortunately my setup had been right. A well-greased butt plug (a larger size than I had ever tried before, something that turned out to be lust overcoming common sense) waited at the bottom of the machine, poised to meet my helpless butt as I plunged downward.

As I made contact with the rubber intruder I had positioned so carefully, the blunt rubber point (which I had thoroughly lubricated, at Mistress Monica’s suggestion, with Ben-Gay) poked into my cringing asshole, and that’s all there was to say. My entire weight slammed me down onto the too-wide phallic symbol. As it rammed its way into me, it spread my asshole open to its full 3" width in what felt like a millisecond- I had no time to get used to its bulk at all- and then plunged inward, ramming its full length into my bowels. Then my butt cheeks and hip bones made contact with the base of the machine, slamming me to a halt just as the damned plug threatened to perforate my colon. As I bottomed out, the pressure of the plug against my guts threatened to send my sperm spurting against the ceiling, but... shit, it didn’t happen! Damn....

In a minute or so my head came back together and I watched my two Mistresses chuckling at me. “Damn, when you dropped onto that plug I thought you were going to blow that chastity belt clear through the roof! The expression on your face was priceless- it’s a good thing we caught it on videotape! I wonder if we could sent it to Sagget!” Oh, shit- the letdown of a failed orgasm was bad enough, but having my Mistress mock me about it was too much! Shit fuck shit damn piss...

Eventually my two Mistresses gave up having fun at my expense and released me from my infernal machine. “Slave Bob, you’ve just got to stop making such terrible devices!” I smiled a wry smile as they released me from the straps that bound me to the machine. I grabbed the incline and started to pull myself up off the plug, finding- much to my distress- that its improbable bulk was locked firmly into my guts! It took a bit of squirming and a hand from both Mistresses to finally lift my asshole off the plug; I thought for a moment that when I stood up my intestines might trail out, but fortunately my insides stayed inside.

Unfortunately, the plug didn’t come out of me clean. Mistress Monica looked at it with a grimace: “Slave Bob, surely you don’t intend to leave it that way, do you?” Of course I did, but I did what I had to do- I knelt down and licked the mixture of Ben-Gay (bad) and my shit (worst) from the butt plug.

When it was squeaky clean, I stood up and they allowed me to follow them into the bathroom for a vigorous flossing, gargling and brushing. I then followed them into the bedroom for their nightly service, which (although I gripe and complain here) I really enjoyed. I mean, what red-blooded male can honestly say that- even as a slave- he doesn’t enjoy crawling between two soft, velvety thighs to deliver an orgasm to a beautiful woman who screams out her orgasm at the top of her lungs? It’s the most sincere form of applause ever! Truly, it was a labor of love- if I had truly wanted to escape, I could have. Certainly, removing the chastity belt would have been a challenge, but nothing beyond my home workshop. No, I was here because I wanted to be. Whether that constitutes love, well, that’s for philosophers and poets.

The ninth day

The next morning Mistress Iris told me she had something new for me to do. “I was surfing and found something called a Vacuum Bed.” My eyes lit up; I’d read about them. The pictures I’d seen didn’t look too sexy, but the idea sounded great. ”Think you can modify the rack?” “I’m sure I can, Mistress! Would you care for drawings?” The though of another day on the plug was better than a day on the rack, at least! “Definitely drawings, but you’ll spend today on the computer.” With a sigh of relief, I followed her into her office, where I spent the rest of the day. When Mistress Iris returned, she examined my products and then took me to Home Depot, where I purchased the necessary materials and a few tools.

When we returned home, I carried the supplies to the workshop and returned to the bedroom, where I found Mistress Iris waiting with Mistress Monica. “Slave Bob, lock your wrists behind yourself in these.” She held out a European-style pair of handcuffs- a steel bar connecting two cuffs- and with a minimal amount of fumbling I managed to secure myself. “Now you will prepare us for bed; I know your mouth is talented!” They cooperated by turning and moving reasonably, and I managed to remove Mistress Iris’ suit with only enormous difficulty. Mistress Monica’s well-buttoned blouse was more of a challenge, as were her belt and jeans, but I managed that, too. 

I had never imagined how much work it would be to remove a girl’s bra without hands! I finally managed Mistress Monica’s, albeit clumsily. That day my Mistress Iris had chosen to wear a lacy front-close (which I imagine had to be more practical for her) Olga bra, and several times as I worked at it I wound up submerging my face in her cleavage. I half-expected immediate suffering, but miraculously she only wriggled and let me continue. Her panties were straightforward bikinis which involved only a couple of tugs and a delightful faceful of warm tush. But Mistress Monica, for some perverse reason, had chosen to wear a knee-length panty girdle over stockings. It took several minutes to get her girdle legs up to expose her garters and a couple more to carefully unhook them from her stockings.

Mistress Monica cooperated enough to allow me to carefully tug her stockings down and off. After that, I labored for a couple of minutes to expose the zipper tab and then pull the garment’s zipper all the way down her ass and to its end under her swelling cheeks. That done, it only took another hour to work the stretchy garment off her butt and down around her ankles. 

She stepped out of the heap of Lycra and into my Mistress Iris’ arms. “Damn, that took you forever, Bob”, she said. “Unless you get faster at it, I’ll have to do it myself!” I knew that making her do it herself was not a good thing, so I earnestly promised to be quicker in the future. She appeared to accept that, although at the moment she was preoccupied with Mistress Iris’ nether cleavage.

But in another ten minutes or so, they were both ‘ready’ enough to require the services of my lips on their wet twats. Mistress Monica hopped up on the tall bed and leaned back against the headboard to let Mistress Iris sit between her wide-spread thighs, leaning back against her as Mistress Iris also spread her thighs. “Go to it, slave! You see, this way Monica can hold me and feel my movement and share my feelings as you bring me to my usual three orgasms.” I crawled between her thighs and watched Mistress Monica’s hands caressing her breasts as I buried my face in her cunt.

Three noisy and humiliating orgasms later, my Mistresses exchanged positions and I repeated the process on Mistress Monica’s eager pussy, bringing her to two vigorous orgasms. “Thanks, Bob! Move over- I’ll sleep in the middle tonight.” I squirmed, still manacled, to the edge of the bed and tried to be quiet as I cried myself to sleep.

The tenth day

By the time my two Mistresses awoke the next morning, I was awake and very aware of how stiff I was from being locked in the rigid cuffs all night. They seemed compassionate as they released me as soon as I got up. After we showered and I prepared breakfast for the three of us, my Mistress Iris told me I would be allowed the run of the basement. “You will need that to finish the vacuum bed. I presume you won’t do anything as foolish as you did on your first day here!” “Mistress, I will behave admirably; I have a lot of work to do. But at the very least I can assure you that I won’t be trying on any more chastity belts!” They chuckled at they released me in the dungeon, locking the door as they left.

When Mistress Iris and Mistress Monica came home and unlocked the dungeon, I was pleased to present them with a well-engineered, hand-built vacuum bed, assembled and tested and ready to go. Really, all I had done was put a plywood cover over the rack, attach a heavy sheet of vinyl, put another sheet of vinyl over that, and heat-weld the sheets together at three of the four edges to make an airtight seal. There was a lot more work than just that, of course, but that was the general idea.

Mistress Monica’s eyes lit up, and she whispered to Mistress Iris. They conferred for a couple of minutes. “Slave Bob, Monica wants to try it out first. Is it ready for her?” “Yes, Mistresses, it is- I’ve given it a thorough test.”

Mistress Monica wasted no time in getting naked. I helped her up onto the surface of the bed and into the bag. She squirmed down until she could slip the breathing tube into her mouth and verify that she was getting enough air. Then I sealed the bag with a zipper that promised to be effectively air-tight, admiring her shape through the mostly-clear vinyl. She was comfortably relaxed, except that her rigid nipples poked big dents in the vinyl!

Mistress Iris noticed me noticing. “I can handle it from here, Bob. Onto the cross with you!” I stepped up and onto the cross, spreading my legs wide, and reached up to hold onto the upper arms. My Mistress Iris quickly fastened the straps around my waist, wrists. ankles and thighs. In a few moments I had a great view of the vacuum bed with Mistress Monica waiting inside and was helpless to do anything about it. Damn!

Mistress Iris flipped a switch and the air pump (in the workshop to minimize the noise) started. The upper sheet of vinyl gradually pulled down over Mistress Monica’s form, and in about 3 minutes the vinyl was clinging to her form like shrink-wrap. I could see her squirming against the pressure as the weight of air pressed down on it, pinning her to the surface. Mistress Iris put her ear to the breathing tube and whatever she heard satisfied her.

Mistress Iris stepped back and then leaned over Mistress Monica’s breasts, which were pressed down (but not quite flattened) by the vinyl. She played with her nipples and then moved down to her crotch. Mistress Monica had laid down with her legs well separated, which left her pussy almost exposed except for the vinyl. Mistress Iris’ hands went to work, and by Mistress Monica’s reactions I’m sure that she was driving her out of her mind! Actually, I know she did- I heard a squeal that I knew signaled a Monica-style orgasm, except this time she was utterly motionless and helpless to do anything but experience the spasms of pleasure. Damn, I wished I could experience spasms of pleasure sometime!

A few moments later Mistress Iris released me from the cross so I could release Mistress Monica from the bed. I helped her slide her nakedness out of the container- her sweat helped! Then I stood by helplessly as Mistress Iris toweled her off very slowly and very gently. Finally, Mistress Iris stood back and said “Okay, my slave, it’s your turn- into bed! But first, a special treat I bought just for you.”

She walked over to the workbench and returned with... oh shit, a dildo! “But this is no ordinary phallic toy, Bob. It’s a heavy-duty model and it’s remote controlled! I can control what you feel, how much, and how long from, well, anywhere within about 100 feet. But most important, I can control it from outside the bed. All you get to do is feel! Now bend over to receive my present.”

I put my hands on the side of the bed and bent over. Mistress Iris poised the machine at my butt and delicately twisted until the too-big head started to enter my ass; then she leaned into it and shoved hard. The flare of the head spread my anus the last bit too far and slipped in so my ass could pull closed around the shaft, which as still too damn big. I could tell the too-fat flared head wasn’t going to slip out of me by itself- as a matter of fact, I was afraid she would have to brace her foot on my ass to pull it out! After squirming for a moment, I climbed up and slid into the bed, feeling the mass of the beast twisting at my guts, being careful not to jam the dildo any further in than it already was, relishing the slipperiness of Mistress Monica’s sweat. I slid into the vinyl sheath and assumed pretty much the same position as Mistress Monica- my legs spread out and my arms spread at my sides, with the breathing tube in my mouth. I could see my two Mistresses as they moved about the dungeon, but cloudily through the vinyl.

“Ready, my slave?” I could hear her reasonably well, and I nodded my head. I heard the pump start. Slowly, I felt the vinyl cover pull down on me, molding itself to me. I tried to lift one leg, but it felt like somebody was sitting on it. In another minute, I was completely immobilized. I couldn’t lift a finger or turn my head, not so much as a millimeter. Like I had read, the vacuum bed provided just about the ultimate in immobility and helplessness! I saw Mistress Iris leaning over me and her electric touch trailing over my thighs. Damn, I wanted an erection- once more I cursed the moment I had seen that damned chastity belt on the wall and put it on.

My Mistress manipulated the remote and started the vibrator. Its bulk was jammed so far and so firmly into my guts that I could feel the vibrations all the way through to my heart and particularly in my balls. Then she did something else, and I felt the monster start to squirm inside me!  The vibrations got stronger and the squirming more vigorous; it felt like I was being ass-fucked by an angry anaconda! I felt the first urges of an orgasm even though my cock was still locked down by its steel sheath. I strained against the vinyl and the tons of air pressing it down, but nothing moved as much as a millimeter. And the fucking stopped, and the urges faded away. Shit damn piss... I heard laughter from outside my tomb.

I heard silence for maybe a minute while all my urges faded away. Then the fucker started again, churning up my nerves through my colon. Once again, the monster brought me to the edge of an involuntary orgasm, an ejaculation even though I couldn’t have an erection, and then the throbbing slowed and stopped.

Finally, I felt the pressure of the vacuum bed relax, and in another minute I felt a rush of cool air as my Mistress unzipped the bag. She helped me out and down. “Wasn’t that enjoyable?” “Well, yes, Mistress, but I admit it was a bit frustrating. I mean, I got right to the edge, and then the vibrator stopped!” “Hmmm... just the problem women have been putting up with for ages! Well, I hope you’re still eager, because it’s bedtime and I need four orgasms tonight to help me sleep!” And so she got her four orgasms, Mistress Monica two, and me none. Shit damn piss....

The eleventh day

The next morning Mistress Iris stayed late while Mistress Monica went on her way, explaining that we still had some accounting issues to settle. After the usual morning shower and breakfast, we retreated to her office. As usual, I knelt in only my chastity belt beside the office chair in which her silk-lingerie-clad beauty rested. “Bob, I have studied your assets and it would be really in your best interest at this juncture to sell out to your partner- let him continue the business as a sole proprietor. That’s spoken as an accountant. As a friend, I think you would be happier here in your present situation if you did that- no outside worries to interfere with your new life. What do you think?” I thought hard- this would be a major change in my life.

“Mistress Iris, I agree with you. What do you think would be the financial impact if I were to sell out to Tom?” “I’ve gone through your company assets carefully and I really think this is an excellent time for you to make a deal, I’ll be happy to work you on the paperwork if you decide to make him an offer. Monica and I would really enjoy having you here with us.” We talked for another hour or so before I told Mistress Iris what my heart had said immediately- YES!!

She, being a cautious businesswoman and a professional, said immediately that she thanked me for my response but I should carefully think it over.  How did she have me think it over? I first thought she would lock me in the pillory, but what she thought of was even more cruel: she gave me my wallet and car keys and a sealed envelope. Slave Bob; this contains the key to your chastity belt. I want you to spend the night in the Best Western in town, by yourself with every opportunity to enjoy yourself as you wish, and also to think seriously about what you really want to do with the rest of your life.” And I did as she asked and spent the night by myself, a damn lonesome proposition even if I did have the bed all to myself.

Of course, there was the small matter of the chastity belt: I assure you I spent a long time with the envelope on the hotel desk, staring at it, feeling it, and getting ready to tear it open. But then I considered what would happen when I returned and handed her the torn envelope; she would know that I had released myself from the chastity belt and had then masturbated until I spurted my male juices all over the place. In ten minutes, twenty at the outside, I would be satisfied. Then what? The more I thought about it, the more I knew I had to leave the envelope intact. 

The twelfth day

And so, at 7:30 the next morning, I was ringing her doorbell, the envelope still unopened in my hands. Mistress Iris opened the door, saw the envelope in my hand, and smiled. She held the door for me and followed me down to the dungeon, where I took my rightful place in the pillory.

(To be continued at some unspecified time in the future)