Prenup 02
(This story is set in a world where legalized, non-hereditary slavery is commonplace for serious crime, unredeemed debt, or voluntary self-indenture. Eighteen years of age is the minimum for anyone in this story to be enslaved or have any dealings with slaves. Thanks again to Mr. Smith for his contributions.)
(
Jim Fuller's perspective
)
Some joker once defined the "OhNoMoment" as the split second where you realize that you've just done something very stupid, like slamming the locked car door shut with the engine running and the key in the ignition, but it's too late to correct that mistake. I'd been having four continuous DAYS of "OhNoMoments" lately, and it was all self-inflicted. I had deliberately confessed (complete with a photograph) to my wife that I had a cute little slave girl suck my dick. When I first proposed to my second wife Jeanie, she had made it clear that she couldn't tolerate philandering with slaves or anyone else, and had insisted that I sign a special prenuptial agreement that, in the event I ever had slave sex again without her permission, I would voluntarily become her Free In Name Only contractual slave for a five year period. Ever since she raised this possibility, my mind had been fascinated with the possibility of being her submissive slave boy as a means of escaping the pressures of my life as a surgeon, dreaming about days and weeks of sex-filled service to my gorgeous wife.
The reality, however, sucked. And not in a fun way. Mistress Jeanie had registered my FINO contract by running me through the Longhorn Slave Market, complete with having the wranglers there first install a shiny ring into the head of my dick (aka a Prince Albert) and then BRAND her initials in 3-inch letters across both of my tender buttocks. "Ouch" doesn't even begin to describe the suffering involved, but I figured I deserved it for making my darling unhappy.
Anyway, that was four days ago, after which I had been kept (naked and usually bound) around the market to give my wounds time to at least begin healing. Now I was kneeling inside the kind of wire-mesh cage often used to transport large dogs (aka "Poodle Express," a standard method of shipping human property here in Slave Texas.) My knees were on a foam pad (thank you, Mistress, for small favors), with another such pad between the backs of my upper and lower legs, cushioning my bandaged rear cheeks. I was also gagged, collared, "butt nekkid," with my ankles zip-tied to the rear corners of the cage; the short chain between my handcuffs (installed behind my back) was zip-tied to the center of the back wall of my cage, making it difficult for me to shift my position and take pressure off my branded bottom. As if I weren't sufficiently restrained, one of the wranglers had--at the direction of my mistress, he pointed out--stuffed a VERY large butt plug WAY beyond where the sun's rays can reach, apparently to remind me that my conduct had qualified me as a flaming a**hole in the eyes of the woman I loved.
For over an hour (I guestimate) I knelt in this humiliating and uncomfortable situation while contemplating my destination, the "Cougar Club." As the name suggests, urban legend has it that club was operated by older and very dominant women who enjoyed subjugating male slaves, making them perform in the sexual service role traditionally attributed to females. My owner and sometime wife had decided I needed that kind of training in how to please her for the next five years, and Cougar Club was a logical site to "put misbehaving little boys in their places."
I had thought the female wranglers at the Long Horn were imposing and built like masonry restrooms, but the three women who greeted my cage when I was finally delivered were both domineering and statuesque beyond anything I had ever imagined. In moments, I had been cut free and ordered to crawl out of the cage. The most imposing of the three women, a six foot, muscular yet arousingly-attractive brunette who introduced herself as Mistress Sally, took charge of me. She was not only a gorgeous amazon but also possessed of a supreme confidence that was incredibly alluring (at least, alluring to submissive guys like me.) The condescending sneer that she leveled at my drooping dick made my appendage immediately perk up, as if I WANTED to be beneath her contempt. After compelling me to urinate into a piss grate--a humiliating experience all by itself, made far more difficult by the extra hole in my dick coupled with my insistent erection when watched by these clothed, dominant, beautiful women--Mistress Sally allowed me to rise, but only long enough to bend over a padded bench where I was again restrained. There, she leisurely ran her gloved hands all over my mid-section, toying roughly with my balls and dick, extracting that damned plug and then goosing her finger several inches inside my rectum, and so on. I must confess to enjoying this intimate attention, since (as the reader knows) I did have submissive sexual fantasies. Or at least I DID enjoy it before she abruptly pressed an ice bag against my genitals, causing my erection to shrink to child size while my testicles frantically attempted to retreat back inside of my body.
"Cocks are sometimes nice to play with, but we prefer our sluts to use their tongues when entertaining their mistresses; your future service is all about tonguing and being pegged," she observed as if she were describing some routine rule such as meal hours. I was still gasping from the sudden cold when she installed a rather tight chastity cage around my junk. "Besides," she continued with a contemptuous grin, " having their tiny dicks caged ensures that our slaves stay focused on serving their owners, not their own filthy dicks."
(I discovered she was serious about that. That damned cage remained installed on me almost constantly while I was at the club, except (see below) when they used my cock as a training aid. Otherwise, at the end of each week I would be strapped down on a rack inside an echoing shower room, then given two gut-stretching enemas (one cold salt water, one warm) to flush my lower colon. Then and only then my keeper/mistress would remove the chastity belt, fondle me to a quick erection, and vigorously pump what felt like a foot-long, 4-inch wide lubricated dildo in and out of my anus until it triggered an ejaculation that dribbled out of me without much if any pleasure. Yeah, there are a lot of nerve endings down there that MIGHT have given me some pleasure, however perverse, if something rubbed against them, and yeah, I told you I was submissive to women, but not when this well-endowed giantess was reaming me without any concern or empathy, as if she were milking a horse or dog to obtain sperm. She appeared determined to ensure that my anus had been destroyed--and she darn near succeeded. Talk about pleasure/pain and frustration all at once.)
This anal pummeling also reminded me of how poorly I had treated many a slave girl when I was free, plowing her ass and other openings unconcerned for her pleasure or pain. I had just used her hole as a cumdump for my own enjoyment while enjoying the thrilling pleasure of dominating the helpless slave. Now I was on the receiving end of things, and not enjoying it one bit.
Every day, I had to spend hours on a treadmill or lifting weights. Still, the majority of my time at the Cougar Club was devoted to two training goals: ensuring eager and attentive service to any female who deigned to notice me, and perfecting my tongue techniques to titillate both females and (regrettably) males. Fortunately, all the male cock-sucking demanded of me was performed on either plastic training dummies or other male slaves, who usually had to reciprocate on each other in a way that at least reduced the embarrassment! The ignominy of this act, which most men are trained to avoid even contemplating, was bad enough between slaves; it would have been even more repulsive if I had to suck off a free man. As it was, the female trainers watched and giggled, making derogatory comments about our insufficient size and questionable sexual orientation. They also never missed a chance to point out that free men enjoyed watching two women make love, but they found mutual dick-swallowing unimpressive. Some of them even considered any mouth on male fellatio as being disgusting because it reminded them of how many men wanted women to suck them off. I don't know whether I was fortunate or not--Mistress Sally would sometimes pretend to give me a blow-job, but after a few slow strokes of her lips along my dick she would pull back and laugh at my frustration.
No matter how long we males maintained an erection, we were severely punished whenever we came without permission. The women kept demanding that we be able to control ourselves, only cumming after the female was fully satisfied.
