The early morning light came streaming into my room on the eastern side of Natalie’s house looking like glowing tines on a large fork as it was sectioned by the Venetian blinds. From my vantage point it appeared that a very pleasant day was in store. However, my assessment of the morning and it’s portent for the day ahead was based on what little I could see from my position in the room and very much intended for the general population of the neighborhood, since it was most assuredly not going to be a nice day for me. Oh no; indeed not.
As is the case with most people waking from an evening’s slumber, my body was sending all kinds of messages about its needs, including various input/output functions such as a trip to the bathroom and something to eat. A nice hot shower wouldn’t hurt, either, I thought. But such mundane acts were not on my agenda and, even if they were, not in my control, at least insofar as handling them in the most customary manner.
As thoughts of bacon, eggs, a nice, long sit on a toilet and stretching my aching limbs bounced through my head like fireflies around a gas lamp, I heard her coming. The firm click-clack of her heels (she was fully aware of my fetish for her exquisite pumps) on the hardwood floors announced her arrival. Instinctively fear roiled up inside of me – something wicked this ways comes. Yet, despite my dread, and in spite of my wishes, my cock began to fill with blood; my body betraying my conscious needs for needs more primal – flowing to my manhood as if in desperate hunger of what was surely to come. It was all beyond my comprehension, but Natalie understood it. In a way, she didn’t have a relationship with me; instead, she had a relationship with my cock, with my brain and body simply serving as unwilling accomplices too weak to cease abetting this sinister crime.
“Good morning, darling,” she said in a chipper tone that belied her dark passions. “I see we’re all up and ready for another wonderful chapter in your training.” As she said this, she walked right to my cock, took the shaft in her hand and tapped it on its sensitive head. See what I mean about her relationship with my cock. “Natalie is here to take care of your needs, and I’ll start first with breakfast. For you,” she said, taking Mr. Happy in her hand once again, “I’ve got this wonderful lotion that should make you feel fantastic and very much hot to trot,” she snickered as she rubbed a solution of hot sauce, mustard, pepper and Tabasco sauce onto my engorged member. “And of course I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of this,” she exclaimed, talking directly to my penis, though I couldn’t actually see anything.
In a second I felt a clip being attached to the little piece of skin right under my cock head, then a jolt of pain, as the TENS unit was fired up and coursing electrical current through my cock, keeping it quite hard, especially given the anal probe that ran from the unit right to my prostate – all serving to intensify the effect of the fiery lotion torturing my dick. “I Sing the Body Electric,” she said in the breathy tone that always got me hot.
“There, there, it looks like we’ve got you all taken care of,” she cooed to my raging erection. “Now for you,” Natalie barked in a slightly hushed tone that only barely concealed her growing rage; the rage that boiled as her libido began to inflame. “I’ve taken care of him,” she said, turning her mesmerizing eyes from mine to nod at my granite-hard prick, “now I’ll take care of you. Would you like some breakfast, perhaps a little of Natalie’s breakfast special?” she teased. “No need to answer. I can tell just by looking at you.”
A moment later my head, which had been trapped in a harness all night, was freed from its bondage, but only for that brief moment. Natalie slid the harness off of me, and retracted the end of the large table upon which I was captive, resulting in my head falling over the side.
“Perfect, my favorite feeding position - open up,” Natalie said cruelly, flipping another switch and watching as my mouth was forced open by the powerful jaw-spreading device locked between my gums. I had often tried to resist it, but the electric shock Natalie would administer to my cock, or the severe beating I would receive, had weaned me of any thought of defiance.
When my jaw was open as far as it could be, Natalie spoke, a slight hint of anger underlying the cool soft tone of her voice. “Chris, I want you to see your breakfast this morning. I think it looks delicious and, when you get a look at it, I think you will, too.” Grabbing my hair and pulling my face to the right, she showed me my morning meal. Around her waste was an enormous strap-on. My throat gulped and she caught that small movement. “I know, baby. You are so hungry for this, but be patient, dear. As you can see, there’s plenty here for you, maybe even enough for seconds. The outside has been coated with my cream – I played with myself last night and saved all my juices for you – as well as some of that stuff I’m feeding your dick. Inside…well, you’ll taste that little treat when I cum, unless this baby is all the way home, then it will all just go right to your tummy.”
My fear was rising. For a moment Natalie seemed to understand. “In know,” she said, gently, and then, “But this is what you need,” as she put the bulbous head of the faux phallus in my face and began forcing it into my mouth, using the sides of my head for leverage. My gag reflex triggered, even though she’d taught me how to overcome it, but Natalie just plowed away. “I want so much to give you what you need,” she purred as her oversized unit began its invasion.
“This is what you need, and the proof is that thing of yours. Protest all you want, Chris, but your cock looks like it’s going to tear apart. Oh, I know, some psychologist has called hard-ons like that ‘environmentally inappropriate erections,’ meaning that you men get wood in situations that don’t seem arousing to your higher mind. Somehow that’s supposed to mean that you don’t really want the degradation, humiliation and torture women like me put you through. I say bull-shit. You men can lie all you want, but a cock never lies. It wants whatever makes it hard, and raping your mouth obviously makes you hard. So, quite obviously, you want this. The fact that I have to force this on you is a sign of just how in denial you are and, I might add,” she said as she slowed for a moment, “a sign of just how much I love you and want to give you what you need.”
With that her movement became forceful and demanding. I knew from experience that her end of the dildo had a vibrating unit that stimulated her clit. As she pushed, her love bud was crushed and manipulated by the end of the dildo. She moaned and started saying truly humiliating things to me. “Look at your cheap whore mouth sucking my dick; pretty lips milking me, trying to get me to cum so you can taste my giz. Oh, yeah, you cock-sucking tramp, take more of me. I want to see the bulge in your neck as I push deeper into your distended, dick-hungry throat!”
This went on for a few more minutes, my mouth and throat burning from “my meal,” my cock inflamed, my jaw aching and my mistress face-fucking me. The, suddenly, she got quiet, made a forceful thrust of her hips, and began to scream. I felt as though I’d pass out as I heard her yell, “Here you go, bitch. What you’ve been waiting for. Breakfast.” With that she clamped her hands like vise grips around my skull and imbedded herself inside of me as her cock throbbed a warm, gooey substance into my mouth. I only tasted it for a moment, since Natalie’s reverie had her shoving her schlong deep into my throat, where it deposited her cum directly into my stomach. “Keep those pretty lips on by dick, tramp,” she chided, as if my bonds and restraints gave my any prerogative.
Natalie stayed silent for a few moments, her strap-on still filling my mouth. I imagined how it must look against my face. The thought caused a twitch in my cock, now hard as titanium and burning from bizarre passion and the fiery ointment my torturix had applied.
Slowly, even carefully, Natalie dismounted, looking into my upside-down eyes with an expression that conveyed a quiet satisfaction that she had succeeded in getting the pleasure she wanted while providing me with the physical, actual, true incarnation of some primal needs; needs so dark and fantastic – and so buried as a result of the conflict between their seemingly twisted longings and the vanilla sexual ethos of the “real world” – that it took a woman like her, one able to see through the veneer and into the very souls of men like me, and then, through the sheer force of their compassionate brutality, make manifest the primeval pleasures locked long ago in our DNA but denied us by the norms of a species that considers itself – in all things – above such bestial acts; a world that now thought of itself as civilized.
Since I’d first noticed them, the beams of light piercing the blinds on the window had moved to a more severe angle, as the morning sun continued its ascent in the azure sky of the new day. As my mind began to ingest my surroundings once more, I felt something cool stroking my engorged member. Again speaking directly to my cock, Natalie whispered, “Ooh, I can just imagine how it must feel to be so aroused. You are definitely one rock-hard cock. I want to cool you off a bit,” she said, as she washed my genitals with something very soothing. Then I felt the familiar sensation of her lips suckling me. “Mmmm, you taste wonderful and you really are quite hard. I tried to squeeze you with my lips, but there isn’t any ‘give’ when I apply any pressure. I wonder if it’s possible to get you even harder. If I do my part, will you try for me?” she asked in a coy tone that always drove me or, in deference to my cock, drove us, crazy. Looking momentarily into my eyes, Natalie spoke, almost as if pleading, “Will you try for me, Chris, to get even harder? I’ll do my very best,” she said, turning her attention once again to my insanely rigid pole.
The familiar sensation of Natalie’s experienced mouth returned to my cock. She was an expert fellatrix and she knew it. I won’t detail all of the gymnastics her mouth and tongue performed in my dick, but they were having the desired effect. Something like pain seemed to be coming from my groin, as if to alert me to the fact that the skin around my manhood was just not intended to me pulled so taut. “Mmmm,” Natalie gurgled as she swallowed several times and took me deeper into her velvety throat.
After the hellish night and bizarre morning I had just endured, this moment of pleasure was heavenly. Natalie worked her wicked oral magic and my cock responded. My head – the one on top of my torso that is – rolled from side to side as flashes of light burst from inside my brain. I shook and moaned, crying out for what was surely to be a shatteringly pleasurable orgasm. My arms, still restrained, pulled madly at my bonds, my whole being convulsing in desperate need. “Oh, Chris,” Natalie purred, “it’s so flattering and gratifying to know that you long for me and lust for me so much. That I turn you on so much that your cock could be so hard, well, it stirs my heart, and really warms my pussy.”
As she spoke, the momentary absence of her pretty mouth on my cock caused a brief moment of rest for my weary, needy body. Then an electric jolt shot through me, as Natalie flipped on the TENS unit, with the result being the immediate convulsing of my ass around the electrode-tipped intruder. “Didn’t forget about this, did you, love?” Natalie teased. I tensed and she gently stroked my cock, now so hard I could sense no discernable movement; no bobbing or even the slight movements normal for even the most erect cocks. “My, you do need this,” she cooed to my tortured, need cock. “Like I said a moment ago, knowing that I can make you so unbelievably hard really gets me hot. Here, feel how hot I am.” With that, my tormentor mounted me and the silky walls of her womanhood consumed my hungry, angry cock.
