Chapter two — Riding the Pole
Author's foreword:
Be sure to read the events in part one,
Male Sub Ch. 01 – Sting of the Lash.
*
Three days had passed since Mistress Brandy provided a demonstration of wielding a whip on her hunky male submissive Allen. The thin line of torn up flesh made by Carla with the vicious blacksnake whip was now just a thin red line on his otherwise near-flawless body. Brandy had asked for and received forgiveness for Carla's betrayal of his trust in his petite Mistress.
Business went on as normal between them. She was careful to tone down her demands as the whiplash continued to heal. She didn't want to risk some kind of infection setting in, nor did she want to risk him thinking he was being taken for granted. Brandy didn't want him to believe their relationship was damaged—or worse, a mistake. She didn't want to lose him.
Brandy had been taken aback several months ago when her co-worker Allen had broached the subject to her—dominating a man wasn't something she had ever fantasized about. Undaunted, Allen gave her the addresses of several Internet sites she could visit to get a feel for the idea. He explained she was the type of woman his submissive fantasies revolved around, and would be honored if she considered it.
She did. Now there was no going back.
Dominating Allen was a heady thrill. She had been the smallest of four children and usually the smallest of her classmates in school. That left her vulnerable to be picked on and she grew up feeling powerless. Now twenty-seven, Brandy was 4'11" and 97 pounds, and in undisputed command of a man thirteen inches taller, 140 pounds heavier and more than triple her strength. To keep herself grounded, she likened her Dom/sub relationship to a trainer's relationship with a horse. He could trample her helplessly at any moment if he bolted, but he obeyed her willingly because she took care to respect his feelings, needs and desires.
Allen was naked and ball-gagged, as usual, and restrained to Brandy's bed. His wrists were bound to the upper corners in a spread-eagle arrangement, but he had two short spreader bars between his legs. The shorter one was between his knees, keeping them closer together than normal. The difference in height between Mistress and submissive made straddling him difficult with his legs open as far as the standard spread-eagle. Mistress Brandy liked to secure him to her bed, let him stew for an hour or two in the kind of "lonely bondage" that he liked, then come back and ride his thick cock to her climax.
Allen twisted himself up to look at the clock on the nightstand. He sighed and settled back; it was covered with a teddy bear. She had called him in here at 1:40pm, but he was unaware of the current time. He tested the security of his bindings and found them just as secure as the previous forty tests. His cock was semi-hard; he knew Mistress liked to make him wait before masturbating herself on his erection. He knew it was coming—he just did not know when.
Time went by, enough to cause a noticeable shift in the angle of sunlight coming through the window. He wondered where Mistress was, but he knew she was small and light enough not to cause any footsteps he could hear. The house would occasionally shift just enough to cause a small snap or click that he could hear when he strode from one place to another. But it didn't do that for her. It seemed her house was just as dominated by his diminutive Mistress as he was.
After an undetermined amount of time, Brandy came in. She was dressed as she usually was for Allen's domination—snug fitting and seamless white cotton bikini panties and high heel shoes. She closed the door and, pretending to ignore him with a studied amount of imperious aloofness, flopped the coiled blacksnake onto the mattress beside him. She reached for a dainty, creamy yellow bra and slipped her arms into it, making a big show of both ignoring him and putting it on properly. His cock began to thicken in anticipation as she got ready; he knew she was about to straddle him.
