The Device

He watched her sleeping for just a moment, a woman with a child's innocent face, golden hair splayed against the pillow. Then he bent down and touched her shoulder firmly. "Wake up now," he said. "It's time."

She opened her eyes and gazed at him, taking only a moment to understand. It was time. He needed her.

A moment later she was wrapping her gown around her full breasts, tying the sash at her waist, then following him barefoot down the cold tile corridor to his room.

Once the massive wooden door to his chamber closed behind him, there was no longer any need to whisper, and he adopted a regal attitude once again. "You know why you are here tonight, girl," he said.

"Yes, sire."

"We must continue with your lessons. We must attend to them diligently, daily, until I have determined you are ready to leave this place and venture into the world."

"Yes, sire."

"And you know that means beginning naked, in the position you have learned." He had his back toward her as he spoke, and he bathed his hands in a basin, then rubbed them briskly dry. When he turned to her again, he chuckled. She was already so well-trained. She had shed her nightclothes and was lying face down on the soft bed where he slept most nights alone.

He approached her and began to stroke her smooth, bare back with his hand, still chilled from the cold basin of water. She stiffened, trembled. "Now, you need never fear me, you know," he said. "We are both here so you might learn something you badly need to know. Discipline, and control, and pleasure."

She nodded, her face in the pillow. His hand trailed over the smooth mounds of her buttocks, his fingers knifed carefully between her thighs. She started, then turned half around to look at him. "Sire?"

"Yes, dear, I know," he said. "But not just yet."

"But you made me promise," she said. "You said I must insist that you wear the device if you were to … begin touching me."

He smiled wistfully. "I know I have taught you to not let me approach unless I was suitably restrained. It's the only way we can both be sure that you will be properly trained, but not violated. My job is just to prepare you for pleasure. When the time comes, it will be the king's privilege to be your first lover."

She was relieved. "Let me get the device then."

His hand pressed firmly down on her lower back, pinning her to the bed. "Not just yet," he said. "I want to feel you with my hand, but I also want to feel my skin upon your skin. Just for a moment."

"Sire, it's not wise," she said, her voice soft and cautious.

"I know, I know. I just want to have a moment with your skin, and then you will restrain me."

"But won't … won't the device be unbearable if you are already … aroused?"

He grimaced, thinking. "Yes, it might be. But tonight I must have you this way, buried between your soft thighs, just for a moment. I will not violate you. We will both have to trust me a little."

"You have asked me to stop you from attempting this, Sire."

"And now I ask you to be silent and let me do what I must."

She looked away from him again, awaiting the thrilling feel of his hand caressing her, wondering if either of them would be able to stop in time, knowing she was duty-bound to stop him. She had the device. He was breaking all the rules by asking her for this reprieve – but his fingers were so thick and warm, and her deep, secret places longed for the very thing she knew she must deny him.

His fingertips danced lightly over her back and buttocks and thighs for long moments, creating shivers, although the fireplace kept the bed warm. Periodically he would stop and she could hear cloth rustling; he was undressing, pulling off his trousers, then the garters that held up his socks, then his socks, and finally his undergarment. As he caressed her inner thighs, she drew in her breath. He brought her so close to the edge of pleasure, night after night. When would the training end?

And she could sense that behind her, he stood naked now, erect, throbbing, his eyes afire as he gazed at her squirming flesh.

"It is time for your lesson to begin," he said. She held her breath, waiting for his hand to come down sharply on the lower curve of her buttocks. His slap made a satisfying smack, but he was gentle with her. A man big enough to crush her bones, he restrained himself in administering pain, so she would have only the stimulation she needed. But would he be able to control himself tonight, without the device?

Following the slap, there was always the penetration. Just a tiny amount, a delicious little bit of penetration. She arched her back, straining toward him, anticipating his finger.

"My wanton little slut," he chuckled. "You know you can only have the tip of my little finger, yet you spread yourself as if preparing for a much larger intrusion."

The tip of his finger wiggled between her legs, dipped inside her, and made her moan. She had come to adore these lessons. He was teaching her self-control. But tonight she could also feel the ominous presence of his hard member, it's silken wet tip occasionally tapping against her thigh. It was too dangerous, a danger he had warned her about. A danger she was sworn to prevent.

"Sire, before we forget ourselves …" she said.

"Shhhh, not yet," he replied, and she could feel him now holding his manhood, using it to stroke her leg while his other hand continued to madden her, teasing her most sensitive places.

"Please," she whispered. She might have been begging for him to stop, or for him to never stop. She could no longer tell which.

Now she could feel the weight of his legs on either side of her, pressing down on the soft bed, and his manhood wedging between her thighs. "No, Sire, no," she whispered. "Please remember. Please."

He was still for a long moment, paused in thought or in indecision. Then his weight lifted from her, she heard his feet land on the floor, and she sighed with a mixture of frustration and relief.

"Our duty," she said.

"Yes, our duty. Very well, then. Get the device."

She was spry, leaping from the bed, rushing to the wooden chest from which she withdrew the heavy device. Her fingers caressed the rough wood, marveled again at the construction.

The device reminded her of the stockade in which prisoners were sometimes held, a long wooden block split lengthwise in two, with holes just big enough to accommodate the unfortunate criminal's head and hands. His neck and wrists resting in the grooves, the top half would be slapped down into place, then locked securely, leaving the man captive, unable to withdraw either head or hands. Sometimes such prisoners were left attached to the device, which stood in the town square, over a long, cold night.

Sometimes mischievous children would pull down the man's trousers and undergarments, leaving his manhood dangling in the wind. On more than one occasion, an older boy had taken the opportunity to bugger a trapped man, as he stood helpless to prevent the assault, while drunken villagers cheered and hooted their encouragement.

This device was similar, but much smaller, with two openings arranged one atop the other. The left and right halves were made to snap together. The holes were big enough only to accommodate her master's genitals, and then only if each ball could be coaxed through the lower opening patiently, while his manhood settled in the top notch . She had practiced at this nightly for many months now. She knew how to secure his balls in the device and lock them in firmly.

However, usually he was mostly flaccid as she fitted the device to his groin. Usually they began that way, before he ever touched her. He was certainly not flaccid now. How was she to persuade his cock, now so large and swollen, through the top opening?

As always, he sat in his overstuffed chair, hips thrust forward, leaning back. He trusted her to handle him gently and to be sure no fold of skin lay between the two wooden halves when the clamp was tightened, which would have caused him unbearable pain.

She cradled his balls and swiftly lifted them into their slot, then hesitated. He sighed and used his own hand to bend his cock down into its spot. "You'll have to help me," he said. She tried as gently as possible to bend the hardened member to fit. He groaned, beads of perspiration forming on his brow.

"It won't fit," she said finally, her eyes downcast. "You are too engorged to wear the device now."

He lifted her chin with his finger. "I will need your help, sweet child." She looked up at him, her face framed by his bare thighs, wondering how she could possibly make the hard manhood flexible again. He guided her head until her full lips were poised right at the sensitive tip.

"You will need to suck some of the engorgement from me," he said. Her eyes locked with his.

"Yes, Sire," she said, and nodded, and began to tongue and suck him in the way he had taught her, on the first night she arrived to stay with him.

That night, he had wrestled and moaned with her, tossing about on the bed, as she tried to defend her maidenhood. That night, in frustrated agony, he had grasped her by the ears and pressed himself into her mouth, whispering instructions between gritted teeth. "Suck it, child," he had said. "Swirl your tongue around the tip, then suck hard." And he had violated her mouth again and again, until at last he filled her throat with a salty, slippery hot liquid. "Swallow," he had said, patting her hair.

That was the night they had decided that, if her lessons were to continue, they would use the device to help him maintain control.

This night, it took only a few moments for the delicious tonguing to have its desired effect. This time, as she felt the cock grow yet larger and stiffer in her mouth, and heard his breathing strain, she began to swallow greedily, gulping until he was empty and shaking, and she could feel him grow soft.

"Good girl," he said, stroking her head again as he had the first night. "Very, very good girl. And now, I believe that device will fit."

The device had been lying on the floor, cast aside as she sucked. She replaced it now, expertly feeding his scrotum, and then his cock, into their designated places, carefully tucking all skin in so there would be nothing to pinch. "Ready?" she asked.

He nodded. She brought the two halves of the device together firmly, and cinched the fastener. It was a tight fit, and not comfortable, but he could bear it now. The heavy wooden clamp weighed him down, pulling his manhood and balls down, stretching them. He supported the device with his hand.

A single eye-bolt protruded from the bottom of the device. She now snapped the end of a chain onto the bolt, then tugged it gently, urging him to stand. His knees were still weak from climax, but he followed with meek steps, like a dog on a leash, until he was close enough to allow her to attach the other end of the chain to the foot of the bed.

"I am a chained animal now," he said. "You have me, my princess, by the balls."

She smiled and nodded, then stretched out on the bed. "Please, my lord, take me with your hands and mouth, teach me," she said. "We are both safe now."

She knew he could not mount her with the device attached. He could not get close enough to her slippery openings to penetrate her, with the heavy block of wood in between. And chained as he was to the foot of the bed, if he should try to lunge at her, she could scramble away.

He leaned forward, groaning as the device pulled hard against his groin, stretching the skin painfully. In this discomfort, he began to lick her legs, to tease her nipples with his outstretched arm.

"Safe now," she sighed, surrendering to the pleasure.