I will admit, you made me doubt myself for a minute, but only a minute.
I still remember your attitude. Your brash, arrogant attitude. Petulant and self-confident to a fault. Your words, that you said with such audacity:
"You can't tame me. No woman can do that. It's the other way around, my dear. I call the shots and get my way. The only reason I'm here is because your personal ad was funny and honestly I'm bored and fancy a challenge."
I will admit too, that I almost struck you in anger, which most certainly is not my style, when you called me a damned challenge. As if you were going to teach me a thing or too. I just smiled and nodded, which I could see pissed you off.
"We will see if you change your tone once I am done transforming you," I said, ushering you into the dimly lit room that you would soon come to know in much greater detail than you could have ever imagined.
I knew you didn't know what to expect from my little room of devices. Your eyes were transfixed on the carefully crafted chair in the middle of the room. The padded seat with a curious wooden peg in the middle. You scowled at wooden "T", like a demented cross bolted to the front, but with a slot cut into the stem. Along the stem was a row of three heavy metal eye bolts along each side. An identical set of bolts lined the top and bottom of the crossbar. The whole affair was carefully designed and placed on a pedestal, and you would soon see why.
"Oh, I get it," you said. "You expect some fool to get tied up on that thing of yours."
"You can call yourself whatever you want," I replied. "I'm not keeping you here. The door is that way." I knew your self-absorbed, narcissistic ass wouldn't let an average, chubby, high school counselor build of a woman like me get away with challenging your overwhelming masculinity now, would you?
Of course, you didn't. You were almost proud when I told you to remove your clothes, all of them. You wanted me to see that magnificent body of yours, that you clearly took great care of. You stood there proudly, like you were the goddamned Mr. Clean Man. Rippled and chiseled muscles adorned you from head to toe, like a statue of a Greek god. You even shaved your cock and balls. I'm sure to showcase your glorious thick cock. At least 7 inches limp, with a bulbous circumcised head, and your heavy full balls proudly hanging like trophies between your strong thighs. I'm sure you told yourself that an average lady like me should be thanking her lucky stars to see YOU naked. I knew you saw me ogling you, and I didn't care. I'm human after all.
I told you that you were gorgeous, and you were making my pussy wet. You gave yourself a smug, self-assured smile and an internal atta-boy. I didn't tell you that I was wet because the thought of making that glorious shaft of flesh quiver for me was the height of arousal for me.
The first time I saw the hint of your vulnerability was when I asked you was the last time you had been penetrated. "Never!" you screamed, your eyes filled first with shock and anger, which quickly changed almost imperceptibly to shameful deceit.
"Bend over!" The force of my voice startled you, and I saw that paper thin armor of yours tear like wet tissue paper. I was tired of your games. You needed to know who was in charge. Surprised at the change in the dynamic, you did as you were ordered. I wasn't gentle when I spread your cheeks, exposing your tight hole to the cool room air. It clenched reflexively when I ran the very tip of my finger around your rim. But unsurprisingly, the slightest, non-threatening bit of pressure caused you to push back, hoping for me. "You are such a handsome liar. I know a thirsty hole when I see one. My ass responds the same way when it needs to get fucked, because it remembers how good it feels," I said. You offered no rebuttal.
Now, I knew you would have plenty of questions as you stood there while I retrieved the implement I wanted to use, the one that you would grow to dream of. It was a rubber plug that could serve only one purpose. It was thick at the base, roughly 2 inches in circumference but configured as to be four balls stacked on top of one another, the largest at the bottom and tapering to the last one that was barely a quarter inch in diameter at the tip. To save you the trouble, I answered what I knew what you were thinking. The same as those that those before had thought.
"This, my dear, I lovingly call the Challenger, and yes it will fit. It certainly fits your attitude. This, which you will find out if I allow you, will give you what we both want. You will beg for me to give you the release that you will soon crave, and I will gladly give it to you by taking more and more. You may not believe me just yet, but as each of these cute little hard rubber balls strips away that stench of arrogance that reeks from your pores, you will relish the fact that you won't have any desire to control what your body does. You needn't worry. I won't let your body get the best of you. Do you see that sign on the wall?"
"Resistance is futile?" You looked at me. "A little corny, I don't even like Star Trek," you said. That made me laugh. "It suits the occasion, my dear. It always does."
I asked if you were ready once I affixed the Challenger to the wooden dowel and applied a generous amount of lubricant to fully coat it from tip to base, and you said nothing. You were scared. I asked you one last time if this is what you wanted, and that it would be the final time I would ask before the restraints were attached. "Whatever," you replied, rolling your eyes. They would be rolling back in your head soon enough, so I didn't bother with a response to that.
"What's this for?" you asked, as I affixed the heavy padded leather cuffs to your wrists and ankles.
"Well depending on how much you can take, as the stimulation increases, your body will convulse uncontrollably. The yearning of your genitals will override any attempt by your mind to counteract it. I'll admit the first subject pushed himself so hard that he damn near fell and hurt himself when the orgasm consumed him, hence the need to be firmly held in place. Your body is far too delightful for all that." So predictable, I thought. Your cock twitched from having your fragile ego stroked as if I had just shoved its length past my vocal cords and into my throat. One day I just might, if it suited me.
As you positioned yourself carefully over the Challenger, I affixed the spring clip carabiners to the eye bolts both at the arm posts and to the hooks that you didn't notice were attached to the base of the chair. Your wrists and ankles were firmly attached and you pulled with your wrists to test the strength of the restraints. It far exceeded yours.
"It is almost like it was made just for you. I didn't even have to adjust it!"
"But only my toes touch the floor," you said.
"Precisely," I said, applying a healthy glob of lubricant to your waiting anus, which made you jolt. Another generous coating went on the Challenger. "You see, the beauty of this arrangement is that I needn't do a thing but talk to you. You will do all the work yourself. Perhaps you will stand there on those strong legs of yours and defy me. That's fine. But your legs will grow weak, and your mind will grow curious and hungry. Eventually you will stop listening to that brain of yours, and as that little device slips deeper into you, your mind will follow. Into a place that you will curse yourself for never visiting before. And you will curse me for taking you there." I leaned in close to you, so you could feel my breath on your skin. "And I will tell you that I am glad that you let me."
I remember it as if it were yesterday. I plunged my tongue deep into your mouth and kissed you passionately. My nipples tightened and my clitoris throbbed. I whispered, "If you can resist me, then you can have me anyway, every way, any hole that you want." I was going to tell you that I would enjoy that immensely, but I put the thought out of my mind. I knew I wasn't going to have the pleasure of that today. You were easing yourself down slowly onto the Challenger. My kiss made your knees weak. Your lust made you compulsive.
You did bite your lip a little bit as you eased down, millimeter by millimeter. I could tell by your muffled gasp that you were being stretched and pushed. I saw your toes tense as you steeled yourself. Your legs weren't getting tired; you were getting both terrified and excited at the same time.
"You're almost there," I whispered. "You can't see it, but I can see those veins in your cock starting to bulge."
The primal grunt followed by the sigh of relief when the first bulb made it past your rim made my pussy quiver. The slight bead of sweat on your brow was almost as delicious as the drop of precum that I harvested from your now rigid glans. I needed to test your vulnerability, to gauge your struggle.
"How do you feel?"
"Full, but not full. Stretched...."
"Good. You are at the purgatory stage. Your mind is trying to resist this invasion, but the nerves in your anus are on fire, aren't they? They aren't letting you convince yourself that you can't take any more, are they?"
I almost pitied you, the defeat that I saw in your eyes when you looked at me and nodded silently.
"Take your time," I said, "You'll want to take the second bulb inside you very soon. The pressure will become too great, and your body will plead with you to allow more in. It doesn't hurt your bum, or your pride now does it?" You weakly shook your head no.
As you started to settle yourself down, I don't think you saw through your tightly closed eyes that I had retrieved the thick leather straps that would be across your back, chest and arms to keep you firmly in place.
Your moan was music to my ears when I took your stiffened cock in one hand. With a swirl of my fingers around your sticky, sensitive cockhead, you lurched down onto bulb number two into your hole. You didn't yell or scream, rather you merely gasped as if you were punched in the solar plexus. I needed to work quickly. Your body was starting to quiver as the straps went on, adjusted so that your chest was firmly against the vertical board and your arms could not move. Your throbbing cock was in place through the slot.
"You look wonderful, my dear," I asked. "Now tell me, what is your body doing?"
"It's...it's, I don't know, I can only move a little. It's making me.... crazy."
"That is your prostate. The male G-spot, as they unscientifically call it. It's going to taunt you until you satisfy it. Tell me. Tell me how it is going to satisfy you and set you free..."
