Dear Shoeblossom:
One nigh I attached Carter's wrists to the ceiling hook in his basement, and separated his legs and locked them into a spreader bar. I whacked his cock to awaken it with my long cut rose switch...didn't bother to cut off the thorns!
And then I brought out a thin steel knitting needle.
"This little slit at the end of your cock is quite small, isn't it?" I asked, trying to shove my long fingernail into the eye of his blind worm. I punctured and poor Carter moaned.
And then I took the knitting needle, which I had sterilized. "Your mommy left these in her parlor before she died, I found them, and have decided to use this needle to make you think a little bit, Carter."
I shoved the sharp needle into Carter's penile slit and pushed it into his cock slowly, and when I got it halfway through his hard penis, I stopped, and whacked the side of Carter's cock, and he moaned, and tears came from his eyes.
I taped the end of the needle to the tip, and it was quite amusing to watch Carter walking around, his penis stretched out with an entire foot long piece of steel in there. When he got up the next morning to go to a business meeting, I saw the question in his eyes, and told him he had to take it with him.
"But what about when I need to pee?" Carter had asked, and I'd just laughed at him. When he came home that night, he was in tears. He couldn't sit down all day, and his elongated cock had bounced painfully against his right thigh, in his pants leg.
"Did it create any sympathy there, Carter, when you were foreclosing on some poor bastard's mortgage?" I asked, cheerily. After all, compassion sometimes does come from suffering!
At one point I rubbed itching powder on Carter's stretched cock, and then locked his hands behind his back and watched him dance, as the long cock with the needle sticking out from the urethra bounced painfully between his thighs!
I thought about it, and got him some tap shoes, and filmed it for the Internet...it was quite entertaining!
For a week I kept that knitting needle locked in Carter's penis, and made him beg to have me remove it so he could urinate. I'd give him thirty seconds to void himself before pushing the knitting needle back in.
This was especially miserable for Carter at night, because I tied him in bed, and then he'd have to hold his urine, with the knitting needle blocking his urethra until the next morning. Some nights, after he'd had too much beer or iced tea, I'd find him in tears, and his bladder throbbing!
Carter would climb out of bed, tears streaming down his face, and get on his knees. "Please take the needle out, Petra, I have to pee so badly."
And I would take the needle out, but then Carter would discover that I'd hidden the bathroom key! And, as he ran around frantically looking for it, his penis bloodily bobbing, I'd tell him "Warmer, colder...no you're getting there!"
When he finally made it to the bathroom, Carter ended up peeing on the floor before getting to the toilet, and goodness, he learned that Mistress didn't like that! I whipped him with a discarded fan belt until he screamed in acute pain!
I found that thrashing his cock was far more painful for him when the knitting needle was locked in there, but as you can imagine, I didn't give a shit. Finally I took his Mistress's knitting needle out permanently, and had him lick and suck it, shoving it deep down his throat. I have trained Carter to have a Deep throat mouth, and of course he licked the needle quite greedily till his disgusting juices were gone.
But I know the boy loves me!
Sometimes Carter cowers, naked on his knees as I whack his bare buttocks with the long, thick Spencer paddle. WHACK! Tears stream down Carter's cheeks, and I bring the paddle down again. But he is trying ever so hard not to make any noise. He knows I am encouraging him to be a man, and not whine or cry.
Carter is on a hassock, on all fours (well, hands and knees, trying not to lose his balance) as I finish his discipline. He is an accomplished submissive in so many ways. I bring the Spencer paddle down again, and catch Carter's balls this time. He shrieks. Good!
Carter has been visiting dommes since before I was born. Not only that, but he had two dominant wives as well. I have actually only been in the scene as a professional dominatrix for two and a half years, but Carter tells me I am coming along nicely.
"You're cruel, Petra, in exactly the right ways." Carter was so thrilled with his sessions with me that he offered me a sweet deal—to be his full time dominant.
It's almost a joke, "training" Carter because of all his varied experience, having been an active sub since like, 1962. But I try! After the Spencer paddling, having slammed the multi-holed paddle fifty times on Carter's cherry buttocks, I instruct him to kneel straight up on the hassock, putting his hands behind his back.
"Now I expect you to keep your hands on the small of your back. Grab one wrist with the other. Mistress isn't going to be happy if her little boy jumps and grabs his wee-wee just because it's a little teensy bit sore."
I love referring to myself as "Mistress" though I was born several years after Carter's fortieth birthday. It seems to turn him on, as well. Carter's mother must have been a doozy to have fucked his head up this badly. On the other hand, he's a billionaire, and maybe being left all that cabbage makes up for a peculiar childhood.
As Carter kneels on the hassock, his hands anxiously caught behind his back, I run my long purple nails up and down his penile shaft until it stands straight out. Now he looks ridiculous, kneeling on a footstool with an erection, a rather small one, as I keep reminding him.
I swing the bamboo cane, stopping it just before hitting his hard cock, and he winces, the baby. "What's that?" I ask severely, slapping Carter's face. "Can't even take a little swing with the cane, I didn't even touch you, you little faggot."
Carter looks down shamefacedly, a stray tear rolling down his right cheek. But his cock is even harder! I raise the cane again and this time bring it down HARD on Carter's cock, and he bites his lip, and it bleeds a little! But he keeps his hands behind his back, and kneels, perfectly.
When we first began, a lash to the cock, to say nothing of a full cock caning, would cause Carter to fall to the floor, grabbing his dick and howling, despite his thirty years in the scene. But now he's beginning to understand that self-control is mandatory in my house.
I swing the cane again, and it lands harshly on Carter's cock, but he is biting his lip. On the other hand, tears are coursing down his face. And his lower lip is trembling. He's trying so hard to be a little man, isn't he?
"Oh, honey, Mistress is just trying to teach you to be more disciplined, you know that, right?" I ask soothingly, as I bring the cane down once more, right on the bright red spot where the cane last slashed.
Carter's cock is faltering, so I run a nail across it again, and tickle the underside just a little bit. He has not been allowed to cum in some months, and my gentle ministrations cause him to inflate just a bit, and so I swing the cane again, landing hard, and Carter bursts into loud sobbing. What a disappointment!
"I'm (sob) sorry Miss Petra." Carter says, blubbering miserably as his cock hangs low. "I-I didn't, mean to be such a (sob) wimp."
I shake my head understandingly. "Of course, but you know what this means, Carter, darling." I try to look sympathetic, though I'm choking down giggles. "We discussed what happens when you cry and howl. Table time, dear."
Carter looks at me in horror. "P-please no, please don't—" But I fold my arms over my considerable breasts, encased in tight Lycra, and bursting into fresh tears, Carter gets up off of the hassock and trudges to the table and lays his cock and balls on the table, pulling the cock back, so his scrotum is on full view.
"Now we're going to learn manliness, darling." I tell Carter. "You're not going to be a little sissy anymore. Your real Mistress used to make fun of you because you cried at the doctor's office when you got a shot...and I am trying to improve you for her memory."
I lift the cane and bring it down hard, five times onto Carter's scrotum, and he nearly passes out. I help awaken him a bit by throwing cold water on his face, and this wakes him up nicely.
The poor thing! Yesterday I had him in a lace bra and panty set and thigh high stockings, and I invited my friend LeMoyne over and taught Carter how to suck a dick nicely.
The last time I got Carter to suck cock, I rewarded him by letting him jack his legs over his head and jerk off into his own mouth, combining his cum with my masterly friends, but this time I didn't even let Carter out of his chastity device, and I'd sent him to bed early, as soon as Lemoyne's cum was down his throat!
