The Pleasure Giver Chronicles

Author's note

: In my early years of sexual exploration, I was focused on BDSM and the search for the perfect Mistress. While I had several amazing, eye-opening relationships, I haven't written about them until now. While this is a purely fictional account, the predicament in which Soma finds himself is based on a rather memorable encounter from my early years. I hope you enjoy it more than Soma did. If you do, please leave a comment: I enjoy reading them all.

A little background for those who are new to this series: Soma has been gently blackmailed into becoming a part-time Pleasure Giver at a motel run by Mr. and Mrs. King, as told in The Apotheosis of Soma. While he's not being paid, he has, for the most part, enjoyed the experiences. He's learned more about himself than he expected. This is the first story in which he interacts with a woman in a meaningful way. If you like it and would like more, let me know: I'm giving serious thought to a new series of stories based on my early BDSM explorations and the search for a Mistress.

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When I entered the motel office to pick up my key card for the day's shift, Mrs. King called me into her office.

"I need to ask a favor of you, Soma."

"I'm yours to command, Mrs. King."

She looked troubled. "No, Soma, this is something different. And, for the record, you may choose to decline this client and no one will think the less of you. She is...special."

My ears perked up when I heard the pronoun "she." I hadn't played with a woman in years; not that I didn't like them, but there were too many complications. Unless...

"You say she's a 'special' woman, Mrs. King. Is she trans?"

Mrs. King chuckled at that.

"I assure you, Soma, she is 100% genetically female. She is a friend of mine who is a healthcare professional. She's also a Domme with a strong sadistic streak. She knows about our establishment and asked me if I could supply a test subject for her."

"Test subject, Ma'am?" I was definitely interested now. This was conjuring up fond memories of years past, when my early explorations involved submitting to women. I had learned to appreciate their sensual and erotic approach to cruelty and pain. No man I met had been able to come close to their ability to use pain in the pursuit of pleasure.

"Yes. She's been developing some special piece of equipment and wants to test it on a male subject before she uses it on her own sub. She said if she had to tweak it, she'd rather do it on a "useless man," to use her words. She wasn't referring to you, Soma: she just doesn't care for men in general."

"Hmmm, a sadistic Domme who doesn't like men? That could be interesting...and dangerous."

"I won't sugarcoat it, Soma. If you choose to submit to her, she will hurt you, but she won't harm you. She explained what would happen and agreed to my monitoring the session from the office. We'll have the usual cameras and microphones in your room and I'll watch everything. I know her and trust her, but your safety and health are paramount."

"Thank you for your concern, Ma'am. As you know, I've had dealings with Dommes in the past; in fact, they helped me discover my high pain tolerance. As long as she doesn't leave any lasting marks on me or engage in toilet play, I think I'll be good with it."

Mrs. King was unconvinced.

"I appreciate your desire to serve, Soma, but I want to make sure you understand: she knows how to administer pain. And she enjoys breaking people. But she is a healthcare professional and knows how to keep you from harm and herself out of legal and professional trouble."

"Well, Ma'am, I'm always up for a new experience, and you've been kind to me since I've been here. It's the least I can do to help you out."

"Thank you, Soma. You won't regret it....actually, you will," she added enigmatically. "Oh, and one more thing: she may use you sexually. Do you have a problem with that?"

At that point, my little head took over and, as usually happens in such situations, I sealed my fate. I broke into the clueless horny guy smile I'm sure women know all too well.

"That would be just fine, Mrs. King. It'll be a nice change of pace to bring pleasure to a woman."

She just shook her head and gave me a pitying look. Clearly, I had forgotten what she had said earlier, and I was going to pay the price.

"Thank you, again, Soma. You'll be in Room 315 today. It's one we use for special occasions. It's at the far end and is the most private of our rooms. Good luck. I'll come up after the session to check on you. Oh, and your safeword is 'Rosebud.'"

I made it to the third floor in record time. This was going to be a great afternoon. It had been too long since I had played any BDSM games with a woman. My cock was definitely ready for whatever may happen.

Room 315 was the typical business suite, with some notable modifications. The cameras that monitored the room were more obvious. The air conditioning was off and the room was noticeably warm. The king bed was stripped down. Gone were the blankets and comforter. Instead, there was a sheet of what looked like plastic or vinyl. On each corner of the mattress was a leather cuff, with a chain running under the bed to the other cuff. The cuffs were attached to the chain with a latch; the links could be adjusted as needed. The two pillows were encased in plastic. It would be easy to clean up any fluids (

or blood?

). This was not the Honeymoon Suite.

On the desk was the ubiquitous sheet of instructions. I picked it up and read.

"PG, I knew you'd help Mrs. King out; thank you. I think I can promise you an unforgettable experience that's right up your alley. When you finish reading this, strip down and put your clothes away. Be sure to use the provided enemas, then take a quick shower and brush your teeth. There's no need to shave. When you've finished lay down on the bed and put on the blindfold. Mrs. King will come up and complete preparations. Do not turn on the air conditioner and do not use the pillows. Have fun. Mr. King."

I followed the instructions and, after brushing my teeth, I cleaned up the bathroom area: one doesn't want to make a mess with a Domme present. I lay on the bed, wondering if the sheet would stick to my skin. I was already starting to perspire a bit with the heat and humidity in the room. I put on the blindfold and spread my arms and legs out, ready for whatever was to come. My cock was erect and starting to produce precum. Between the humidity and the darkness, I was soon nodding off.

The sound of the door opening aroused me and I heard steps approaching.

"It's me, Soma," said Mrs. King, "I'm here to complete your preparations and to remind you that we'll be watching the entire time. You'll be safe."

"I'm sure of that Ma'am," I said confidently, as she tied the cuffs to my ankles and wrists. She tightened the chains on the wrist cuffs so my arms were in a tight V. She centered me on the bed, with my head well away from the headboard.

"Lift your butt," she ordered and placed a pillow under me, then tightened the ankle chains so I was spread eagle with my crotch and ass exposed.

And then, Mrs. King did something that shocked and thrilled me: she lifted my scrotum. She had never touched me intimately and my cock, already erect, responded with a drop of precum. I felt something wrap around my ball sac, followed by a snap.

"Don't get any ideas, Soma. She wanted me to make sure you would remain erect while she was here."

"No, Ma'am," I said, getting many ideas, all of which would likely get me in serious trouble with management.

"Remember: Rosebud," she whispered in my ear, and walked out.

And then, silence. Even with my senses heightened by the loss of sight, I could hear nothing but my own breathing, which was too shallow. I started my cleansing breaths, calming down and breathing more deeply. I was lost in thought, wondering what the Domme would do to me, hoping for the best. My reveries were soon interrupted by the door opening and closing.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am. My name is..."

"I don't care what your name is. As far as I'm concerned, you're my lab rat. And lab rats keep their mouths shut and only speak when spoken to. Do you understand?" The voice was a harsh alto, someone used to giving orders and being obeyed.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"That's better. It will take me a few minutes to get settled and ready. While you're waiting, here are the rules for this session:

"First, you will speak only when I ask you a direct question. You will address me as Ma'am, not Mistress. If you're too stupid to recognize a rhetorical question and attempt to answer it, you'll regret it," she said, slapping my captive balls and causing me to gasp. "If you're too stupid to recognize a legitimate question and answer it, you'll regret it." Another slap on my balls, causing me to flinch.

"Second, when I give you an instruction, I expect you to follow it without hesitation. If you're too stupid to understand it right away, you'll regret it." Another gasp of pain. "I am articulate and intelligent. I say exactly what I mean in words that any reasonably intelligent person can understand. If you're not reasonably intelligent, you'll regret it."

Damn! That's starting to throb.

"Finally, in the course of my experiments on you, you're going to experience pain such as you've never felt before. It will leave you shaken, not stirred. Since you're motel property, I'll leave you in reasonably good shape. However, if you're such a wimp that you can't handle a bit of sensation play, and, being a man, I doubt you can, you've been given a safeword to use. Repeat it for me, now."

"Rosebud, Ma'am," I replied as quickly as I could.

"Very well. Now lay back and relax while I get ready."

What had I got myself into? She showed no care or concern for me at all. What kind of Mistress was she?

What kind of Mistress was she? Clearly, she was not my Mistress. She was a Domme who had borrowed a sub to use for an afternoon's amusement. I had to keep that in mind: she regarded me with contempt, not appreciation. I remembered the cameras in the room and hoped she was aware of them as well. As for me, I would enjoy this as best I could. I twitched my cock, noting it was still erect and functioning. That was something. And I knew how to play the strong, silent type when being used. Mrs. King had said she enjoyed breaking her subs. Well, this is one sub that was going to surprise her. I took in a defiant breath, held it, and released it. I may be bound, but I was in control of my responses.

I felt her presence near my head and turned in what I perceived to be her direction. I smelled something spicy, but I couldn't place it.

"I'm going to tell you what's about to happen so you can fully appreciate it and the role you're playing in helping me maximize the suffering I inflict on my sub. Are you familiar with the term 'figging'?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I considered telling her what I knew, but my balls were telling me this was not the time to be verbose.

"Mrs. King told me you had some experience with BDSM. Tell me what you know of figging and your experience with it."

"Yes, Ma'am. Figging is the act of inserting a piece of ginger root into a sub's orifices. It's said to produce an intense burning sensation, but doesn't damage the tissues. Some say it's quite erotic. I myself have never had the pleasure of experiencing it."

"This is your lucky day, then. You no doubt smell ginger and wondered if I had brought in some cookies. Did I ask you to smile at that? Oh, your balls didn't like that love tap? Too bad. But I digress..."

"I enjoy the delightful range of expressions on the faces of subs feeling the effects of ginger. However, it's such a messy process: picking out the right size ginger root, carving it to the proper shape, peeling it and soaking it, then holding it in place while it does it job. That's far too much work for me.

"So, I've been concocting a recipe of my own. I distilled the essence of the ginger root, never mind how: you're too stupid to understand anyway. I've mixed it with some other fun ingredients to create a paste, rather like cold cream in consistency, but oh so much more fun to use. I'm about ready to try it out on my sub, but I want to be sure it's not too strong. I wouldn't want to blister her tissues. You, on the other hand, are a lab rat, and we all know lab rats are disposable.

"Stop squirming. I haven't lost a lab rat yet. I know what I'm doing...too bad you're going to learn that too late." Why did I feel like I was the victim in a mad scientist movie? I waiting for her maniacal laugh, but it didn't come. What I did hear was the unmistakeable snap of rubber gloves being pulled on.

"Step 1: testing the solution on external mucus tissues. I guess your anus will have to do."

I felt a gloved finger gently rubbing a cool cream on the crinkly tissue around my sphincter, then a warm breath on it. I sighed with pleasure, enjoying the coolness, then enjoying the gradual warming, then enjoying the mild itch, then enjoying the growing heat less and less. I hissed at the sensation.

"How does that feel?"

"It's getting hot, Ma'am, and itchy. It's starting to burn a little, but it's tolerable." Now, why did I have to say that?

"Hmmm, perhaps it's not strong enough. Or, perhaps my lab rat is trying to be macho? Let's find out. Step 2: testing the solution on internal tissues."

The ginger smell grew more potent and I felt something at my anal opening. She pushed it in slowly but steadily. Fortunately, it wasn't a large plug and it was well lubricated...wait a minute: had she lubricated it with...

...and then my ass exploded into flames, giving me the answer. I jerked my hips up and tried in vain to keep my reaction to a hiss. Instead, it turned into a groan of pain as the fire spread through my rectum. The burning sensation was bad enough; but my colon was itching like mad and, squeeze as hard as I might, I couldn't soothe it.

I tried to push out the plug, but she saw the motion and held it in place with her hand, in the process coating the sensitive outer tissues with more ginger cream.

"The subject is responding as expected to the formula. However, he is attempting to expel the anal plug. I may have to replace it with a larger size..."

"No, Ma'am!" I cried out in a panic, "I won't try to push it out. Please don't put anything bigger in there: you'll tear me."

"The lab rat seems to know better than I do how to proceed with this experiment. Very well: keep still and I'll let you keep that plug. It would appear you're trying to grow a set of balls. We'll have to do something about that."

I felt her rubbing my scrotum and realized, too late, that she was applying that damnable cream to my ball sac. The cold fire set them ablaze with pain and I was wishing it had been something milder, like Icy Hot. I was starting to sweat and was groaning constantly, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of hearing me beg for mercy.

I...can...handle...this. This bitch is not going to win.

"This is making me horny, lab rat. I think it's time for you to do something about that. But first, let's get some protection on you."

Really? She was going to ride me? Now that would be some pleasure/pain for me, but it would be worthwhile, getting her to make me cum. Besides, she had forgotten what she had put on my balls. When she started her ride and hit bottom, she'd get a taste of her own medicine, literally. I smiled in anticipation of hearing this ice bitch do a little screaming of her own.

"Step 3: testing the solution on the primary sexual organ."

Primary sexual organ? She didn't mean...oh, no...she wouldn't dare...

...but of course, she did dare. She masturbated me with liberal quantities of the Cream from Hell. The cock ring Mrs. King had snapped in place kept me fully erect and completely vulnerable. She was quite thorough in applying the fiery formula, leaving no part of my cock untouched, not even the slit. My cock head was in agony and I was starting to go into subspace, trying to leave the terrible, burning pain behind. I felt a condom being rolled on my cock, then a second one, locking the cream in place and protecting her from its fury. My head was thrashing and I was babbling.

"Please, please, please! It hurts! It's burning! You're hurting me! Please stop! I can't take it!!"

"Subject is responding as expected. The formula seems to be affecting his speech centers, resulting in incoherent speech. Subject's pain tolerance appears to be minimal."

I could feel the tears forming. Try as I might to resist them, they started flowing. Through the haze of pain, I almost called my safeword: almost. But in the midst of this suffering, shining through was my stubbornness. I was not going to let her break me, especially with Mrs. King watching...

Yes, Mrs. King was watching, and she'd be here any moment to put a stop to this. I could manage to hold out until she did.

There was a creaking on the bed and a crinkling of the plastic underneath me. I felt a weight settling on my chest and bent legs straddling me. Her toes in my armpits told me she was facing my cock, no doubt admiring her handiwork. Cutting through the ginger smell was the unmistakeable musk of a woman in heat. So she wasn't going to ride me after all. Instead, I would get to taste her and make her cum. At least it would distract me from the inferno in my crotch. And, by God, I'd make her cum with my mouth, my tongue, on my terms. I'd show her what a Pleasure Giver does.

"Here's how this is going to play out. I'm going to rub my crotch over your face. While I'm moving, you keep your head still and your tongue out. When I stop and cover your face, lick like there's no tomorrow. I'm going to continue that until I achieve orgasm.

"I know what you're thinking, lab rat: why should you do anything at all to give me pleasure while you're in so much pain? I would hope your professionalism would be enough, but, in case it isn't. I have a little extra motivation. Let's begin."

She lifted herself off my chest and moved over my face. The musk was stronger, mixed with sweat and something thicker. She dropped herself over my face and I quickly discovered she didn't shave her crotch. The hair was thick, long and in my mouth. My nose was almost in her ass and I caught its musk. At least I couldn't smell fecal matter. I prayed I wouldn't taste any.

I licked her, at first tasting nothing but pubic hair. As my saliva matted it down, I started to feel her folds. I licked up and down each side, but was denied her clitoris. Meantime, she grabbed my condom covered cock and squeezed it, bringing a squeal to my lips, which doubtless gave her a thrill. I felt a push on my cock head and the condom pushing in a bit, then a piece of metal on my slit. She had put a hole in the top of the condom. What possible reason could she have for that?

"Have you heard of a sounding rod, lab rat?" She asked. I heard the evil in her voice and my heart sank.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said as best I could from under her pudenda. "But you wouldn't...not there....you couldn't, Ma'am...please."

"Step 4: testing the solution on the urethra."

The rod wasn't very thick. I had experienced sounding before and had, on the whole enjoyed it. But even before she lowered it down my slit, I knew this rod wouldn't be lubricated with KY jelly. The fire burned its way down my most private, most tender spot and I was broken.

"Rosebud! Rosebud!" I tried to cry out, as she hummed and started rocking her body over my face in time to the motions of the sounding rod. I struggled to hold my position. Either she didn't hear my safeword, or she was ignoring it. Mrs. King would have to respond to this. In the meantime, I had to bring her to orgasm as quickly as possible: perhaps then, this nightmare would end.