"So, do you like what you see?"
I blinked several times, and squinted my eyes in the dim light as she pulled the blindfold off my face. It took a few moments to focus after being in the dark for more than an hour while being the subject of her many ministrations.
"Yes, Mistress," I garbled in reply as best I could through the red ball gag tightly locked deep in my mouth.
I could only see her reflection in the long mirror on the back of her closet door as she stood behind me; I couldn't turn my head around. She had laid me down on my chest, bound hand and foot to the four corners of a footstool, my knees just touching the ground. I was naked of course, with a wide, stiff, black leather collar encircling my neck, closed tightly with a padlock. Similar padlocks were used to lock the black leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles, securing them to small lengths of chain bolted to the bottom corners of the footstool. As I continued my gaze into the mirror, I picked out the salacious details of what I saw before me.
With her hands on her hips, she stood erect and defiant with feet shoulder-width apart in her glossy black stiletto high heels. Something about her luscious long legs just drove me wild. Her sinuous curved calves, encased in her black fishnet stocking, rose gracefully, stretching on forever until her sculpted thighs met up with her black patent leather corseted torso. Her waist, whittled into a timeless hourglass shape by the corset, was topped by her gorgeous cream white breasts that literally overflowed over the top of her undergarment. She wore menacing-looking dark purple eye shadow and liner, and the glossiest of red lipsticks under her short black wet-look hairstyle. Her makeup looked intimidating. But what really frightened the shit out of me was what was hanging from her hips. And what the fuck was she holding in her hand?
Hanging down right above her shaved pussy in a black leather harness was a shiny thick black dildo; it must have been nine inches in length. With a bulbous head and veined surface, only its color defied its realism. My own cock was nowhere close to half its girth or length. With every small motion of her body it swung to and fro, as if beckoning to me that it was coming my way soon, to penetrate and fuck my asshole in any manner and forever long as she wanted. Seeing her behind me reflected in the mirror, I had no means to object or abstain as I was helplessly bound in-place by chains.
But the bigger fear, perhaps the more painful truth, was what she held in her hand. With a looping leather thong around her wrist, she gripped a foot-long black leather-wrapped handle with her fingers and thumb. From the end of the handle came two dozen black latex strands, each one-quarter inch wide, one-eighth inch thick and each about 18 inches long. In the proper hands, this custom rubber flogger was designed to sting flesh, and to sting rather harshly. She exuded such a foreboding and ominous smile that I had no doubt about her ability to apply the flogger as it was intended. And while the footstool was not an expensive, purpose-built spanking bench, I was stretched and fastened securely such that my bare ass and back were perfectly exposed, and I could barely move my limbs an inch.
Shit.
How the fuck did I get to the point of having a gorgeous sex goddess staring at me in a mirror, while being helplessly bound and on the verge of being beaten and raped in the ass?
Date Night!
At least once a month my wife and I reserve a Date Night for ourselves to do whatever we think will keep us, or bring us closer together. Sometimes it's simply dinner out or a movie. Oftentimes it doesn't have anything to do with sex. This time it did.
While having sex one evening I brought out a flogger to play with and one thing led to another and I wound up submitting to her and she thrashed my ass a few strokes. It was amazing how it made me so hard and hot in such a short period of time. In particular I was really turned on when I actually watched the reflection her flogging me in the bedroom mirror. Over the course of a few weeks we constructed a Date Night scenario incorporating these elements.
Her story: I began texting him daily at work the week prior to Date Night. Short, dirty, texts. Telling him what a slut he was. That I owned his ass, and how I was going to enjoy shoving a huge dick up his asshole, and there was nothing he could do to stop me. I asked how many strikes from the flogger he thought he could take? I told him I would flog his sorry ass until it turned crimson red; that he would have to watch me do it in the mirror, hitting so hard he wouldn't be able to sit down for a week. I taunted him. I teased him. I asked him what I should do when he starts to cry from the pain. You will cry, I said. All this to torment his mind.
But it wasn't just his mind I was messing with. I told him that by Date Night he was to schedule a "Boyzillion," i.e., a Brazillian wax job for men removing his genital and ass hair so he would be smooth and pretty for me. On the morning of Date Night before he left for work he was to also administer an enema to himself. I wanted him clean on the inside when I pegged him that evening; no solids for lunch either. And my last instruction before he left for his commute was to insert the new stainless-steel butt plug I bought for him. The heft and movement in his ass would be a continual reminder throughout his day of who was now in control of his destiny.
Just before his arrival home that evening I was very busily preparing the bedroom. I left a blindfold and chastity cage for him downstairs in the front hall, and texted him instructions to strip off all his clothes when he entered the house. Then, after putting on the chastity cage (minus the lock which I would add later), he was to put on the blindfold. Finally, he was to put his arms up against the wall and lean forward while spreading his legs. All in our front hall, and then wait for me for his inspection.
I was finishing my makeup when I heard the front door close. I still had plenty to do and if he had to wait a while so much the better. I came down the back stairs and walked in from the kitchen so he could hear my heels on the hard floor as I approached. His naked body leaned away from the wall like a prisoner and his blindfolded head swiveled as I came near, straining to perceive what he could not see. When I got close I unleashed a full swing of my riding crop on his bare ass and he yelped, jumping a foot high.
"Welcome home, slut."
I proceeded to prod his naked body with the riding crop, spreading his arms or legs "just so" to "inspect" him. I would TAP-TAP-TAP-THWACK his nipples with the crop, simply because I could. However, I used my hands and my sharp fingernails to inspect his newly waxed balls and ass... so amazingly smooth AND sensitive...pinching here, probing there, scratching everywhere, he squirmed underneath my wandering grasp like a puppy.
But before things got out of control, I made sure the chastity cage was still secure, then took out a special lock and key. I whispered in his ear:
"I now own your cock. I now decide when, or more accurately, IF, you will ever come again. When you hear this lock click, the days of you getting a hard-on are over. Your dick is now a prisoner in this little steel cage, with no room to grow, no matter how horny I make you, no matter how bad you want to fuck me. ITS ALL LOCKED UP and I HAVE THE ONLY KEY."
And with that I calculatingly clicked the padlock shut on his cock cage.
I then took special liberties with his butt plug, s-l-o-w-l-y tugging on it until it wanted so badly to pop out, then letting it swallow itself back home, repeating this again and again until I got bored. Time to move on...
From the toy bag I brought downstairs with me I took out the black leather collar and wrapped it tightly around his neck. He struggled breathing a bit and I relented by placing a finger-width of slack in it before locking it in place. Next, matching leather wrist and ankle restraints were locked in place. While we had discussed the general scene concept and limits beforehand, I had not shared the details in advance. I think he was beginning to understand this was not going to be a walk in the park. (Wait, walking in the park? Maybe I should have included some outdoor public humiliation? Note for next time!). However, any uncertainty about the seriousness in my earlier texts about his submission would soon be settled
He seemed very amorous when I pulled him close by his collar and gave him a light kiss on the lips. However, he seemed startled and resisted when I told him to open his mouth for me to put in the red ball gag. I really was not in the mood to fuck around, so I grabbed a handful of his balls, squeezed hard, and simply said "Open" and he became remarkably compliant. Not out of anger but not wanting to hear any complaints, I pulled the strap nice and snug, pulling the ball deep into his mouth before securing it with a lock. No amount of tonguing this ball would push it out.
Into his right hand I placed a toy clicker, the kind you use in board games to signal you know the answer.
"This is your new best friend." I told him. "Since you are gagged and can't speak our usual safeword, use the clicker to signal you need out. Once for YELLOW and two or more times for RED."
With that out of the way, I clipped a leash onto his collar, and half dragged him upstairs to the bedroom.
It was now dark outside and the shades were drawn but dozens of candles gave the room a warm glow. The covers were off the bed as usual but there was a new piece of furniture in the room: the ottoman/footstool from the living room. I had placed it a few feet in front of the open door to my closet, which held a full-length mirror. Since it was last in the living room, the footstool had seen a few modifications. Inside each wooden leg a foot-long piece of chain had been lag bolted as an attachment point for bondage. And the fine fabric slip cover had been covered with a black vinyl table cloth; cut, folded and temporarily stapled underneath for protection, from whatever...
