Coming Home Coming Out Ch 04

Reading Notes:

1. This is the fourth chapter written in collaboration with Sissy Simon(e), who was owned by my late friend, Nicola. It is published in her memory.

2. The events in this chapter occur after Doctor Sara engages Cee to be the new practice nurse in her surgery. It includes Doctor Mary and Cee's final week in work before they both start their new jobs.

3. This is a work of fiction, which includes aspects of lesbian activity, bdsm and enforced chastity. All participants are aged over 18, and everything described is consensual.

Paul was parked about fifty yards away from the entrance to the drive of the house that he shared with Doctor Sara Walters. He was waiting to be summoned home. His mobile phone rang, shattering the silence of a quiet Sunday evening. The ringtone, "Mistress of Mine" by The Little River Band told him exactly who was calling. He answered promptly.

There was no small talk. He heard,

"She's just left. Did you get what I need?"

He answered politely,

"Yes, Goddess. Six school canes and three dragon canes. Mistress Aimee ordered me to inform you that she is very impressed with the way you break your canes. She said that she thought that the dragon canes will prove a lot more resilient."

Paul heard a chuckle from the telephone speaker. Then,

"Get your arse home as soon as you like. That new nurse was perfect for the vacancy. I feel a celebration is in order."

The caller hung up, not waiting for any reply. She had issued her demand, and she expected total and instant compliance. Paul started the car, and ninety two seconds later, he entered the house, bearing the products he had been sent to purchase.

His Owner Mistress was waiting for him in the bright and airy vestibule, arms folded, foot tapping.

"You took your time," she said, her voice full of menace.

"Leave that parcel there on the chair, and go downstairs and wait for me. You know how I want to see you."

She turned on her heel, and started up the stairs.

Paul placed the package where he had been instructed to leave it, and walked towards the door that was set underneath the staircase. He opened it and descended into a brightly lit room below ground level of the house.

He quickly stripped himself naked, folded his clothes neatly and placed them in a metal box on the floor. Looking at himself in the large floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall, he noted that his chastity device was correctly positioned. His cock stirred gently as he thought of what was to come.

He got into position, and waited. Kneeling on the floor, in the middle of the room, directly underneath a hook eye that was screwed into a box, which in turn was attached to a ceiling beam. He opened his legs, ensuring that the chastity device (his Owner Mistress called it her cock lock) was visible, and he placed his hands, open with palms upwards on his thighs.

Sunday night punishments were a regular occurrence, so he was used to waiting for his Owner Mistress at about this time. He emptied his mind of all thoughts other than those concerned with pleasing her. Sunday nights were also the occasion when he was milked. Kept in enforced chastity 24/7, his balls were swollen, full and very tender by the time milking time came around.

The routine was always the same. He'd be given a maintenance punishment, which typically consisted of a series of strokes across his arse administered with either a cane, a crop, a paddle or a strap.

His nipples would be clamped, and weights hung from the chain that connected the two clamps. That way, if he wriggled too much during his punishment, the weights would swing and cause extra pain to his tightly clamped nipples.

Paul loved the application of each nipple clamp. The sharp pain as it was applied, how that pain increased as the clamp was tightened up until both his nipples were squashed almost flat. Then the glorious sensation as the sharp pain dulled to a throb. Sometimes, when he felt that he was getting used to the pain, he'd lean forward so that the weights swung free, and he'd sway from side to side to re-awaken the throbbing in his teats.

But most of all, he loved the removal. His Owner Mistress would slacken the screw sufficiently, so that the clamps were held in place only by the spring loaded crocodile teeth. Sometimes she'd grab the chain and yank it off in one swift movement. Other times, she'd pull gently, dragging the sharp teeth the length of his nipples. Whichever way Mistress chose, the instant the clamps came free, and the blood was allowed to flow again, was just heavenly. That instant of pure agony, which Mistress often prolonged by using her nails to scratch his tender nipples.

Paul realised that these thoughts were stimulating his caged cock. He looked down at it. Already it was filling more of his cage than when he first got into position. He imagined how it was going to react during his forthcoming punishment! His cage would certainly be a whole lot tighter and fuller, but whilst he was wearing it, he would never be able to achieve a full erection.

He heard his Owner Mistress coming down the stairs. He straightened his back, thrust out his chest and spread his legs just a little wider. His eyes were cast down to the floor. Looking at Mistress unbidden was a serious deviation from his code of conduct as an owned submissive.

He kept his eyes glued to a spot on the floor, and then suddenly, her feet swam into his vision. She was wearing open toed sandals, which showed off her beautifully manicured and scarlet nail-varnished toes. The four inch heels ensured that her arches were beautifully displayed too.

"Head up!"

The command was softly spoken. Both knew that a raised voice was unnecessary. She commanded, he obeyed. That is how it was; that is how it would always be.

He raised his head obediently, his eyes hungrily taking in the vision that was before him.

His Owner Mistress had pulled her hair back tight into a bun, which, he supposed was pinned to the back of her skull. She'd put on a peach coloured eye shadow, which went beautifully with her deep brown eyes. Her lips were scarlet, matching her nails.

Mistress wore a black rubber corset that displayed her full breasts to perfection, and emphasised her hour-glass waistline. The corset ended just above her hips, so that her sex and ample bottom were on permanent display. All this he was able to see from his peripheral vision. His eyes were locked with hers - just as she had trained them to do.

"On your feet."

Again, the command was little more than a whisper, and he got gracefully to his feet without removing his hands from his thighs. She smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement of his balance.

Dr Sara was carrying the package that he'd brought in from the car in one hand, and an ornately carved wooden box in the other. She set both down on a workbench which stood against the wall on one side of the room.

She picked up a leather collar from the bench, and brought it over to him. Holding it flat, she displayed the nameplate which was attached to the collar, and which bore the legend Property of Goddess Sara.

Unbidden, he dipped his head and kissed the collar, his lips to the word "Goddess". Dr Sara fastened the collar around his neck. She walked back to her table and picked up a pair of stainless steel handcuffs.

By the time she returned to face him, he had crossed his arms at the wrists and she secured them with the handcuffs.

Next came a length of hessian rope, which she threaded between his handcuffed wrists and knotted. She let the long tail drop onto the floor, and retrieved a gadget that looked like a television remote control.

She pointed this at the box in the ceiling, and with a rattle of chains, the hook eye began to descend. When it had reached a height at which she could work, she stopped the descent, picked up the hessian rope and tied it securely to the hook eye.

Dr Sara pressed another button, and the chain began to retract, raising the hook eye together with Paul's manacled wrists. She watched carefully, and when his arms were at full stretch, she stopped the machine, noting with a satisfied nod that his feet were still firmly on the floor.

In the past, when this machine was newly installed, she'd raised him until he was on tip toe. Experience had taught her that as his punishment progressed, he had wriggled and jumped about, making her target, his arse, extremely difficult to hit.

He now was allowed a much more stable base, with which to accept her punishment. But he was still her submissive, and so she couldn't allow him too much comfort!

Working swiftly and efficiently, Dr Sara attached a leg spreader bar to his ankles, forcing his legs wide apart, and giving her access to his cock and balls, both of which would receive her attention when she'd finished with his arse.

Finally, she attached the two cruel nipple clamps, screwing them down tight, so that his tender nipples were both squashed almost flat.

"Oh, silly me!" she admonished herself. "I almost forgot!"

She retrieved two medium sized lead balls, each with a loop at the top, from which a clasp was attached. She hung one under each nipple from the chain that ran between them.

"Lean forward," she instructed quietly.

Paul obeyed, and unbidden swayed slightly, causing the lead balls to swing back and forth like pendulums on a grandfather clock. Dr Sara watched their motion, to ensure that neither the clamps nor the weights would come off during the forthcoming punishment session. Satisfied with her handiwork, she allowed Paul to stand up straight again.

She smiled at her helpless submissive.

"Are you ready?" she asked softly.

"Yes, Goddess," he replied.

Sara stretched out her hand and cupped his balls rolling them in her palm. Paul's cock responded as best it could, swelling against the bars of his cock lock. He winced as he felt the tender orbs being squeezed gently.

Sara reached out with her other hand and gripped the chain that ran between the two tightly attached nipple clamps. She began a rhythm of tugging the chain, then squeezing his balls, a sequence which soon had Paul whimpering in agony.

Sara giggled softly, and turned back to her workbench. She selected one of the school canes that she had sent Paul to purchase from her very good friend, Mistress Dawn. It would have looked very familiar to a Victorian school child, and Sara swung it experimentally.

The cane whistled through the air with a swish, and Sara smiled at her submissive. She put the handle of the cane to hang from the chain between his two nipples, and opened the ornately carved wooden box that she had carried from upstairs and placed on her workbench.

She selected a cigar from the humidor (for that was what the box was), cut the end, and placed it between her scarlet lips. Picking up her lighter from inside the humidor, she sparked it up, and applied the flame to the end of her cigar. Puffing gently, she got it alight, and examined the end to confirm that she had lit the whole of her cigar. Satisfied that she had succeeded, she took a deep drag, and cupped Paul's balls again.

She exhaled her creamy smoke in his face, and squeezed his balls. His cock throbbed, causing the heavy cage to twitch. Dr Sara laughed, and put the cigar back in her mouth.

She smoked quietly for a few moments, all the while juggling Paul's swollen balls in her hand. Finally, she put her cigar into an ashtray, and picked up her cane.

She placed it against his naked buttocks, and tapped them lightly a few times.

"The door's closed, and the soundproofing is activated," she informed her submissive, "so you can scream and howl all you like. No-one will hear you. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Goddess," he replied, "please may I have my punishment?"

For an answer, Sara pulled her cane back, took aim and brought it down swiftly.

Swish! Crack!

The rattan cane whistled through the air and landed on his bare buttocks with a sound like a pistol crack.

Paul gave a grunt of agony, but remained perfectly still.

Swish! Crack!

The second stroke landed parallel to the first, two inches below the initial strike.

Another grunt, somewhat louder this time.

Swish! Crack!

The third stroke landed the same two inches away from the first strike, but this time above.

Concentrating hard, Dr Sara landed the next two blows in the space between the first and the third strokes. When the fifth stroke landed, Paul gave his first whimper of pain.

Dr Sara concluded the first part of his punishment by overlaying her first stroke perfectly with the sixth blow she administered.

Swish! Crack!

An agonised "Aaarrgghhh!" was forced from between Paul's clenched teeth.

Dr Sara put her cane down, picked up her cigar, and took a deep drag. The end of her cigar glowed red, and the ash drooped. She approached Paul, who opened his mouth obediently.

Dr Sara removed her cigar from her mouth, tapped the ash into Paul's open mouth and said,

"Close and swallow."

Paul obeyed, and watched as his Mistress took another drag before replacing her cigar in her ashtray. She picked up her cane again.

"Time for the next set of six," she informed Paul, rubbing her palm across his buttocks, which now sported five distinct angry red stripes, which were already beginning to bruise and turn blue. Sara was particularly proud that her sixth stroke had perfectly covered her first, making her initial stroke indistinguishable.

"I'm going to concentrate on the lower part of your arse now," she informed Paul, "and they are going to be administered quickly.. I'm aiming for a nice narrow band just above your thighs, so that sitting down tomorrow will be a reminder of tonight."

There followed a series of whistling swishing sounds, interspersed with the sharp CRACK! of rattan on flesh. The sequence took about fifteen seconds to administer, and by the end Paul was gasping for breath and sobbing in agony.

Dr Sara put down her cane and resumed smoking. She examined her handiwork, and found it to be satisfactory. Paul now had a lovely red patch in the crease between his arse and the tops of his thighs. That was going to sting in the morning!

Once more Dr Sara ashed her cigar into her sub's mouth, took a deep drag before replacing it in her ashtray, and picked up her cane again.

"Just your thighs to do now," she informed him conversationally. "I'll do the backs first, then the insides of both. No recovery time between any of them. Time is getting on, and you've got to be pegged as well."

Taking careful aim, Dr Sara accurately laid six strokes on the back of Paul's thighs. The first three were very closely grouped, and each of the next three landed on top of the previous three.

Paul howled in agony, but Dr Sara noted that his cock was also throbbing despite being tightly encased in its cage. she moved on to the inside of his left thigh.

Thanks to the leg spreader, she was able to cane the inside of his thighs without any problem. He squealed like a stuck pig as each blow landed, but his Mistress showed no mercy, and completed his caning punishment without a word of sympathy.

When she had finished caning him, she took his face in her hands, looked him in the eyes and smiled.

"Good boy," she complimented him. "I think you deserve a treat."

She put her almost smoked cigar between her lips and approached him. Smoking hands free, she blew her smoke into his face, causing his eyes to stream with tears. As she smoked, she took the key to his chastity device from the chain around her neck and unlocked the padlock holding it in place.

She removed the cage first, then the ring behind his balls, and his cock immediately achieved a full hard-on. It was the same thing every time his device was removed. Dr Sara looked at him in dismay. She removed the nub of her cigar from her lips.

"Oh, dear, oh dear, oh dear," she said sadly.

"What have I told you about waving that pathetic thing around under my nose?" she snarled.

"Sorry, Goddess," gulped Paul. "It hasn't been released for a whole week, and it is so grateful to you for..."

"Enough of your bullshit!" Dr Sara cut across his explanation. She gripped his throbbing cock in one hand and harshly pulled the foreskin back, revealing a shiny purple helmet. Taking a last drag on the nub of her cigar, she put the burning end against his cock helmet and stubbed it out, causing sparks to fly everywhere, and eliciting a banshee wail of agony from Paul.

When she released his cock, it had subsided into a flaccid worm, and it brought a "That's much more like it!" from Dr Sara.

Ignoring Paul's sobs of agony, she opened a drawer in the workbench, extracted a strap-on harness and a large, ribbed dildo, which she inserted into the holder before buckling the harness around her hips.

Picking up the remote control, she lowered Paul's arms and helped him across to the workbench, where she unlocked his wrists, and then re-secured them to two anchor points in the top of the bench.

Paul was now bent over, his nipple weights swinging freely. Dr Sara retrieved a bottle of lube and applied a generous dollop to her dildo, before repeating the dose in the seam of her sub's arse, making sure that his puckered pink star was liberally coated.

She didn't mind causing him to suffer extreme pain, but she certainly didn't want to rip his arsehole to shreds.

There was no warning. There never was. It was just a matter of guiding the dildo head into the correct place, lining it up against his tight, puckered arsehole, and easing it in. Dr Sara always loved the slight feeling of resistance before his arsehole opened up and accepted her thick, ribbed rubber cock. His groan of pain was music to her ears.

They had a well-established routine. Dr Sara would arse fuck her sub until he felt that he was about to cum from prostate stimulation. He would warn her that his time was approaching, and Sara would usually hand him a small tumbler into which he was expected to catch every drop of his issue. Later on, when his cock lock had been sterilised, and his cock and balls shaved smooth, Sara would ceremonially re-lock him, and he was required to drink what he'd deposited in the glass, and lick it clean, to prevent any waste.

"Almost there, Goddess," Paul panted as Dr Sara vigorously and relentlessly slammed in and out of his tight arsehole.

Sara saw, to her immense satisfaction, a thick string of pre-cum leaking out of Paul's hard cock. She immediately stopped her thrusting, and roughly pulled out of him, causing an agonised yelp of pain to escape his lips. She unlocked his wrists from the holders on her workbench, and gave him a stinging slap on his recently caned buttocks.

"Stand up and turn round," she instructed, and Paul obeyed instantly.

His cock twitched constantly, causing the thick string of pre-cum to sway like gossamer in a breeze. Dr Sara reached out and held his cock still with one hand. Using the index finger of her other hand she gathered up the dripper and smeared it on Paul's lips. He remained standing to attention.

Without a word, she snatched at the nipple clamp chain and tugged. The clamps being securely fastened, gripped and held. Slowly, she unscrewed first one, then the other, and then she jerked the chain, and both clamps flew off, causing Paul to utter another agonised yelp.

"We're done here, " Dr Sara informed her sub. "Get upstairs to the shower, and shave of that disgusting fuzz around my cock and balls. I'll be waiting for you in my bedroom. You are dismissed."

Paul walked swiftly to the narrow staircase, and disappeared. Sara took a last look around her to ensure that everything was as it should be, turned out the lights and followed her submissive upstairs.

Twenty minutes later, Paul entered the master bedroom, still totally naked. Dr Sara knew that he would have showered in the guest bathroom, using cold water, whilst she had taken a long, relaxing warm shower in her en suite bathroom.