Chaffernaught 05

Chapter 05: Lookin' For Love In All the Right Places.

I didn't want to stop joeie from making love to my butt, I didn't want to deprive him of the intimacy he so richly deserved, but it was more important he respect my authority. I was winded after another wave of orgasms, and my hunger was making itself known. I eventually caught my breath, after many short sporadic bursts that managed to puff their way from my lungs and out of my being. I ordered joeie to heel, but he continued slurping away, sending his tongue to record depths. What more could I ask of him, than to know he would suffer discipline rather than relinquish my butt. Again I yelled at him to heel, and this time he stopped after one last long wet and loving slurpy lick up my butt crack. He then came to my left side and knelt as best he could, his back straight, licking his lips. It was obvious his mouth was sticky from all he'd been chewing on, and I liked it that way. I released my robe and settled into my chair, studying joeie's wet red face, as he studied the outline of my breasts pressed against the silk, and continued smacking his lips. I made sure my nipples were hard enough to make an impression as deep into his mind as into the material.

"My, you look attractive," I said through a giggle. joeie did his best to kneel straighter and smile brightly, making sure I could see my cock and balls. It appears as if joeie was about to say something when he opened his mouth, so I put my finger into the air. "Susssh! You are never to speak without permission! Now I bet you're thirsty, aren't you," I said, and joeie nodded. "Come closer," I ordered and joeie crawled right up to almost on top of me, his arms outstretched, hands on the seat, one on either side of me, actually hemming me in. It's moments like these, when he's hunkering over me, I come to appreciate what a magnificent male specimen I own. I took a large sip of Old Grand-Dad and motioned him to open his mouth. Then I opened my mouth just enough to let the liquid find its way into his. He gagged a bit because he's not much of a drinker, but I bet it tasted really good, though it probably burned. I let a bit more trickle into his waiting mouth and his gagging worsened. I swallowed the rest, coughing and choking with laughter. "Go to the kitchen and drink some water from your bowl, my simple pussieboy. Then you may fix me something to eat. And don't worry, mommy will feed you." The look of concern that crossed joeie's face was precious! I howled as I patted his head then watched his pristine ass wiggling off to the kitchen.

I watched joeie moving around the kitchen, as it was the only room where he's permitted to stand upright, only when preparing my meals. It's one of the few times I don't interfere, because food preparation is one of his domestic fortes, but I do maintain a watchful eye. While he puttered around in the kitchen like a good wife, I smoked my vape pen pondering the evening's upcoming events through its swirls of gray. Scents most enticing were soon emanating from the kitchen. I was more than fortunate to find a pussieboy who was not only obedient, but who could cook, clean, and do laundry, and knew how to care for my fine silk garments. joeie was the perfect little wife. I was finishing the last bit of the Old Grand-Dad when I heard joeie cough, asking for permission to enter.

"Come," I said as joeie bounded forward with a glass and bottle of wine in hand, I knew supper was following shortly. joeie also had silverware and linen napkins. He stepped out and returned quickly with a large steaming plate of fish and rice. I pointed to where I wanted joeie to sit, right on the floor beside me. The food was exquisite. The mahi-mahi was fall apart tender, the creamy butter sauce rich, the rice fluffy, and the broccoli crowns steamed to crunchy perfection. Between bites I parsed joeie's food and fed him with care. Using my fingers I made sure not a crumb fell from his mouth. I let him slurp warm water from the pewter mug I had made for just for him, while I sipped wine from a long stemmed Waterford.

When the meal concluded, joeie cleared the table and washed the dishes, as I watched with a full tummy, puffed on a vape pen and sipped wine. He really was some find, and I was fortunate enough to collar him permanently before he realized what was going on, and before some other female hooked him. Oh I knew others tried, and joeie tried telling me about them, how they teased him, and how his shyness always ruined every opportunity, but I didn't want to hear of it. The newsy feminine side may have liked to hear the sordid tales, but the responsible Mistress and governess did not, besides those bimbos were after a husband. I was born to have my cake and eat it too, or more correctly, have my cake and then feed it to my pussieboy, living in the best of both worlds as I do. Thus you can see why it's my responsibility to give pussieboy adequate attention, as the only way of ensuring proper training, culminating in joeie becoming comfortable naked, on his hands and knees around strangers. After that, who knew? An invitation to the Pussieboy Sperm Eating Competition held annually by the sisters of Pi Loda Cum, that's all, and I've always wanted to be invited, every sister does. It's one of the year's top events.

joeie was so adorable, and knew just how to pleasure me, and he improved constantly. I thought about keeping this one, as I usually let them go eventually, or swap. Dishes finished and kitchen back in order, joeie turned off the light and knelt on the floor in the doorway, clearing his throat to request entry. I let him kneel where he was looking at me, giving him the opportunity of contemplating how much he owed me for providing him sexual pleasures he would otherwise not have experienced, probably ever. Sexual pleasures I ration methodically, in carefully measured doses meant to keep his level of frustration unbearable. Like this he sees his entire life, all thought, and all experience as emanating through me via 'my' cock and balls. I spread my legs to bring my pussy, his font and my real man's gaping hole, to his gaze, and his eyes began devouring it like a pair of starving hyenas on a baby doe. I laughed and spread wider.

After a few more puffs of the vape pen, and a swallow of wine, I nodded for joeie to enter. As if shot from a canon, he scurried to my left side and like a forlorn lover wrapped his arms round my leg to begin humping it. As he humped my leg he licked my knee gently, provocatively. I stood with joeie attached to my leg, and he only hugged tighter, more meaningfully. For my joeie it was like being on a date with his favorite high school sweetheart, and he began making out with my thigh, actually French kissing it. This was one of his favorite positions, one I encouraged openly. I wanted him to feel comfortable attached to my leg, to accept my leg as his lover, and he was coming along just fine. I'd never need worry where my joeie was when at a party. I was forced to walk somewhat awkwardly to the studio room, turning on lights as I traveled.

"Down, boy," I ordered, once all was set. I looked down at my male and contemplated a little fun, but my own pleasure had to be put on hold, for now. He looked up at me without taking his lips from my thigh, until I raised an eyebrow and pointed to where on the floor I wanted him kneeling. He reacted quickly, first licking my legs clean. "Straighten that back! You don't have scoliosis, so there's no good reason for you to slouch," I screamed, wanting to throw a little fear into him. He responds well to my stern side, and tried straightening an already perfectly straight back. I walked to the edge of the room, to the rather large hook where my training implements hung. I fondled the leather of my embossed taws, promising she'd get her turn later, along with the switch, and riding crops, but it was my birch rod I chose. I placed a towel over a large pillow, then moved it close to where joeie knelt. I grabbed a handful of hair and draped him over the pillow with a single swift yank.

"Surely you didn't think I forgot your indiscretion earlier, did you," I stated rhetorically. I nudged his ass with my foot until I was satisfied with his position. I leaned down and rubbed his cheeks lightly - they were creamy white, without blemish, and soft as rabbit fur. I stood, and with joeie looking up at me, a worried look on his face, began whipping the air with the birch rod, enjoying its song. "For each stroke, you are to count it aloud, and thank me for it. It IS for your own good, pussieboy. Got it?"

"Yes, Mistress Colleen," came the timid reply.

"Lift your head away from the pillow so I can hear you," I bellowed.

"Yes, Mistress Colleen," came a louder response.

"Good boy." With that, the birch met butt for the first time, and joeie jumped. "Stay still! What are you, a baby?"

"Oh... one, Mistress Colleen. And thank you," joeie said, his voice sounding uneven. I started in, unconcerned with his suffering, but very concerned that he thanked me properly. By the sixth stroke joeie began sniffling, his voice cracking, and tears arose. With strike number eight, he was crying in earnest, but he never missed a count or a thank you. After the tenth foray I stopped to bring the rod to his lips so he could kiss it and thank me for helping him learn. He then laid still, head pressed into the pillow, trying not to bawl harder. Breathing hard from exertion, I picked up the bottle of hemp oil, put some in my hand, and rubbed gently each butt cheek. He gasped and squirmed a bit in my grasp, but never tried eluding me. His cheeks felt wonderful to my palms, hot and crisscrossed with the handiwork of my birch. His crying soon fell to a sniffle and then to an occasional large gulp of air.

The silence was punctuated by the sounds of my camera as I began making joeie pose while taking disgustingly cute pics.