A Dose of Antidepressant

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Can Master Specs push his latest corporal "medicine".
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The last presentation before Isolde's was met with bated breath.

Everyone had heard about the new Cease-Fire Testicular collar, and it was quite exciting.

A professorish dude of about forty-two came up to the stage, accompanied by a young blonde girl with spiky rock star-ish hair, bright violet.

"I'm Nelson Giessbuhler" the professor guy said,

"And this is my assistant, Tinsel."

Tinsel was sexily clad in a tiny suede minidress, and her cleavage, in the hefty C range, were a sight to behold.

Tinsel gave a big shiny lipsticked smile.

Tinsel appeared, to Isolde to be in the alternative music scene just for the clothes, as the somewhat large, vacant hazel eyes looked as if they would only be attentive at a Katy Perry concert.

"My invention, the Cease-Fire Collar, is perfect for stopping a submissive's erection just before ejaculation, after extensive teasing." Nelson said this, with a tug at his ginger beard.

As the various kink distributors watched, Nelson removed his nerdy sweater-vest and unbuttoned his shirt, taking off the rest of his clothing fairly rapidly, enduring a giggle from Tinsel, and more than a few from the audience.

Finally, Nelson was standing naked on the stage, and Tinsel, who was holding a small box pulled out a small black loop with a plastic gadget attached to it.

"So, like usually Mister Giessbuhler is in his chastity device, but we took it off in the car?"

Tinsel smiled, waving the little loop around on one long magenta tipped nail.

"Hey, Connor, Biff which one of you has the handcuffs."

Two guys, also in punk rock regalia, one with a Mohawk, came up on the stage.

Isolde noticed the dramatic contrast between the naked little inventor with a small penis and a sweating pot-belly, and the muscular young men in their military boots and considerable tattoos.

"That's right, Con, just lock his hands behind his back. Mr. Giessbuhler gets squirrelly, you know?"

Nelson smiled, with more than a little blush, at the crowd.

"Well, I can take my share of teasing and punishment, Tinsel, I've been in the scene since before you were born, m'dear."

Suddenly the Mohawked chap slapped Nelson across the face, hard.

"She's Miss Tinsel to you, you sissy. Look at him, he got toenail polish on, it's disgusting."

Nelson looked at the floor shamefacedly.

Tinsel smiled apologetically at the audience.

"He forgets sometimes? Biff is a little hard on Mr. Giessbuhler."

Tinsel bent over and locked the little black loop around Nelson's ball sack, tightening it so the scrotum bulged a bit.

Conor took Nelson's ear and shook it.

"I know you want to show off your fuckin' invention, but you treat Tinsel with respect. Apologize to her right now."

Somewhat dazed, Nelson apologized.

His penis was getting somewhat larger and very swollen, enjoying Tinsel's locking on of the device.

"So I'm not real useta public speaking?" Tinsel said to the crowd with a brilliant, but clearly vacuous smile.

"But this is a real good invention. We hope you buy it. I didn't want to come?"

A horny old sales rep shouted out "We're glad you did, Tinsel!"

"Right. The boys told me that since I'm the one who gets Mr. Giessbuhler so worked up, it would be good if I showed you, as his tease-"

Suddenly Tinsel looked lost.

"Teasetrix my dear. You are my teasetrix."

Nelson said helpfully shrinking from somewhat threatening look by Conor.

"Yeah. You can call me Trixie."

Overcome by her own wit, Tinsel's glorious breasts shook in the suede frock, and the boys and Nelson smiled tolerantly.

Behind Isolde, Mistress Joely of Hampton, Maryland coughed. "No stopping this little moron."

No, Tinsel went on...

"Yeah, I help Mr. Giessbuhler in the lab, and also I um, teasetrix him a couple times a week."

She smiled.

"Now I'm gonna tease his Willy, and then you can see how the gizmo thing works. Normally Mr. Giessbuhler gets an orgasm every two weeks, but we wanted to show how intensely horny he can get, and how fast-"

"Too much information, my dear."

"What'd you say to my sister, you shit-head faggot?"

Biff unbuckled his belt, which had a death's head buckle.

"I was just advising that she proceed with the demonstration-"

Biff grabbed Nelson by his handcuffed elbow and used the belt, hitting Nelson's skinny buttocks thirty-two times before Conor and Tinsel were able to pull him off.

Nelson was now weeping bitterly. Staggering around, his rear looked as if it had been toasted on a fire.

Isolde wondered why the organizers had not stopped the display, but sadomasochists are a weird lot.

Remember, Isolde said to herself, You are a perv, too!

"Okay, okay, Mr. Giessbuhler."

Tinsel held the sobbing inventor's head, cradling it between her breasts as Biff, bored now, lit a Marlboro light.

Conor blew his nose the old fashioned way, shooting it through his left nostril onto the platform while having his thumb pressing on the right one.

"Remember, Nelson." Tinsel said, after giving Nelson a big, wet kiss.

"You're going to make a lot of money today, sellin' the shocker thing. You paid us five grand each to help with this, so you know you're going to make big bucks."

"I-I love you, Miss Tinsel."

"Whatever. Anyways, lets get this show on the road."

Tinsel reached down and began stroking Nelson' cock which had softened considerably after Biff's whipping.

But then it began to bulge. Fairly wide.

Isolde, who had dated men till her early twenties inwardly commented that this chap was probably a "shower" rather than a "grower."

Behind Isolde, the proprietors of "Mom N' Pop Submissive Shop" began chatting quietly.

"I'm going to use that, Lila, my dear. No matter how much it costs."

"Master Grant, the 'Cease-Fire' is for male slaves, sir."

"Yes, I was thinking of Thaddeus, our bookkeeper."

After about five minutes, Nelson's penis was straining, almost on the verge of breaking open the Cease-Fire Testicular thingie.

Clearly, Nelson was trying to get his manacled hands loose, and his legs were knocking together.

"Want to see my titties a little bit? The nips?"

To the audience Tinsel confided, "I don't let him see me naked or anything. It would be a violation of the employer-employee thing, I don't want to be a member of #MeToo. But this is a treat."

Conor snorted.

"That's right. This wimp's never seen her naked. He picked Tinsel up when he was teaching community college in Milwaukee, and we all moved in with him, and he's never seen her with nothin' on."

Nelson blushed, but was very distracted staring down Tinsel's cleavage.

"Okay, I kept him real, real chaste and teased him four times a day, so you can see not much would get him to go soft-"

"Right, usually I whip his dick with the ariel from my '77 Mustang to calm him down if we gotta lock him up so we can go to a show or something." Biff said merrily.

"But this is so much easier." Tinsel said, giggling.

"I mean Biff's my brother and Conor's my fiancé, and we have a life to lead what with Conor's band and all-

And so this can calm Nelson down real fast. Are you ready to cum, Mr. Giessbuhler?"

Nelson's dick was streaming precum as Tinsel's nails rubbed it, and her soft forefingers played with the frenulum, the sensitive underside to his perspiring cock.

"Y-yes. Forget the demonstration, please just let me cum, It's been months and-"

"Okay, Conor, press the doozie."

Conor pulled out his cell phone.

"See, it's like a phone app. Perfect for the busy dominant homemaker to reel her guy in."

Conor touched a button.

Suddenly there was a silent quiver, and immediately, Nelson's penis went completely soft. No noise, though.

"You can do it at the opera or somethin." Tinsel giggled.

"I was bored when I went to the ballet the other night, but it was real dark, so I gave Mr. Giessbuhler a hand job, and then when it was time for intermission, I just shot off the Cease-Fire. It's awesome!"

Several more times Tinsel jacked Nelson to full bulbous, pulsating erection, and Conor zapped him back into tininess. At one point, Nelson burst into tears, but no one was worried about emotions.

"And if you have a phone and live in your sub's house, you can zap him whenever." Tinsel said vaguely.

Tinsel pressed the button and Nelson jumped, and then Conor pressed his phone, and Nelson jumped again.

"There's also a vibrator that will milk his cock without letting him cum, in case you're bored. Dr. Giessbuhler calls it "Electronic Edging."

Isolde had to admit she was somewhat impressed.

She watched idly as Nelson was allowed to jerk off onto Conor's Doc Martens and lick the spooge off...he'd get some buyers, she thought

Suddenly Isolde was brought back to earth, as Specs had just thrown a discarded tennis shoe at her head.

Fortunately, nerd that he was, Specs barely hit her shoulder...

"We're ready for you." Specs grinned at Isolde, who stood up hesitantly. She climbed up on the platform, and, with an irritated nod from Specs, pulled off her tee shirt.

"This is Isolde Charbonneau, and I'm Specs. Isolde is our Master today."

Funny, Specs didn't seem to have any last name.

When Isolde began feeling that she was kind of falling for him (Despite his being a guy and a homely one at that) Isolde had asked Specs what his surname was.

Or even..."What's your given name, Master?"

"I went by 'Hey You' until third grade when they hooked these on me." Specs had grinned and touched his "spectacles" hideous aviator frames.

"I figure Specs is a good a name as any."

For Isolde, who had been raised among true resume worshippers in Washington, DC, this was so wild...to have no real name.

But "Master" Specs had quite the reputation, and here he was giving the story of the fastest scourge marketed in Buttermilk Falls.

"The Antidepressant is quite a popular item at my dungeon back in Buttermilk Falls, and is now also sold a bit at the Dunegeonopolis Gift Shop, a local BDSM mercantile."

As Isolde reached behind to unsnap her bra, one of the fat little men-representing Spankable Creations- spoke up, spittle emanating from his teeth.

"You have quite the attractive model there, Specs. Better looking than last year's gal."

Specs barely acknowledged Isolde with a nod. "Yes, Isolde is just beginning in this work. ""

He coughed slightly as Isolde removed her panties, now standing naked except for her spike heels., and of course her chastity belt.

Isolde's actually a client of mine, and is a fan of sorts of the Antidepressant. She is actually paying us to give her a try as a model here in Wisconsin in a way to demonstrate her tolerance and submissiveness."

Isolde blushed. To say she was a fan of the Antidepressant was a bit of a stretch. But the short scourge, with its suede leather tipped thongs compelled her, tremendously.

Isolde had never thought she'd be a submissive.

But in her grad school years, she'd found weird ways to get men and women to spank her.

Once she'd played Scrabble with a pretentious geek called B.J. who then went by James because he thought it was classier...

Isolde had known that BJ/James had a crush on her, and she'd offered him a deal.

"If I win at Scrabble, you give me twenty bucks, but if you win, you can pull my panties down, hit my thirty times with your belt and I'll suck you off!"

A BJ for BJ? BJ/James had gone with that, not knowing that Isolde would let him win in a dozen surreptitious ways...and he'd loved giving the whipping and the treats afterwards.

And then she'd let him whack her across the tits, too...and she "lost" to James at least a dozen more times!

Then, Isolde had bet a girlfriend that she'd lose more weight with a similar penalty, and wore an extra heavy necklace chain to lose that bet...

Women are cruel, and she was able to get whipped by dozens of straight girls who also enjoyed being licked to orgasms!

And this "phase " had not seemed to ever go out of style, even after Isolde had tried therapy, Lifespring, so-on...She was a sub!

When Isolde had begun seeing Master Specs as a paying client, he'd advised her to practice on her own between sessions to learn to work out her pain management.

Isolde had taken steel nipple clamps home and tried them on, sitting for at first twenty seconds to an agonizing minute at a time before tearing them off

And this only after having gone through the lesser pain of clothespins under Mistress Albani, when Isolde had been living in Cedar Rapids, Michigan.

Isolde had been very attached to Albani, what a domme...

When she'd gotten the job transfer to Buttermilk Falls and then begun seeing Specs, she realized it had been extreme good fortune-

Although Isolde was a committed lesbian, Specs was a wonderful Master.

Specs had laughed at clothespins, and had presented the vicious little metal clamps and it had taken Isolde six months of nightly agony, going from twenty seconds to eventually an hour of tolerating their intensity.

Of course just sitting with the clamps on was bad enough, but then when she'd go for a $300 session with Specs, and he attached the clamps, and began twisting and tweaking them, it had gotten very difficult, with many tears.

And then came using the clamps on her tender clitoris.

But, by the time Isolde had been seeing Specs for a year and a half, she was truly unable to have an orgasm unless he'd tweaked and tortured her nipples and labia quite industriously with the clamps!

And the same progress had gone on with the implements. Specs had taken Isolde from the hairbrush through the Spencer paddle, to a bullwhip and then the majesty of the Antidepressant...

And still she was a little weak going through the vicious punishment. Because she only could afford to see Specs once a month (twice at Christmas, when she'd gotten a bonus) Isolde had really had a problem, as learning to tolerate the cruel Antidepressant meant she'd had to ask for help.

She couldn't whip herself more than once or twice; self-flagellation with the Antidepressant stopped after a couple of hits. It was too much pain, even when she just swung the thing behind her back, like a deranged priest.

Isolde couldn't bear any man but Specs to touch her, but she'd befriended a couple of old Sicilian dykes on the floor below her, Chiara and Genovese Molto, actual sisters...

The Molto girls didn't do well at gay bars, they weren't too cute, and when Isolde had made them an offer, it sounded good.

Only Specs could whip Isolde's clitoris, the rest of the time she was locked in the chastity belt.

But Chiara and Genovese (and Geni had a mean streak) happily took turns thrashing Isolde's breasts, back, thighs, inner thighs and stomach, and in return were happily serviced with Isolde's active tongue.

Ugly as the sisters were, with boils and zits, obese and disgusting...

Isolde was grateful for their helping her tolerate the Antidepressant!

Isolde had gotten quite a bit of practice in, tolerating the vicious lashes of the Antidepressant, which she'd bought, and had learned not to cry out when the sharp lead pieces ripped a bit of skin from her bountiful breasts...

But Isolde got the impression that the Molto sisters, harsh as they could be, were not as artistic with the whip as experienced Masters, and Specs had certainly proven this theory.

Now she shivered on the stage, and wondered if she could keep from shrieking, as Specs was, a "master" of Masters.

Suddenly, Isolde felt Specs fiddling with the combination to her belt, and it came down.

"You're going to whip my-my-"

"Yes, you arrogant slut." laughed Specs.

"How am I going to get distributors to pick up the Antidepressant unless they see some results everywhere?

And if you take it well, you may get to hit your knees and frig yourself with the Antidepressant's handle afterwards!"

As Isolde contemplated this, the lashes of the thong hit her across the face.

"And that's for doubting and questioning my methods, you hosebag."

Aloud, Specs said

"So you see these creamy white pendulous breasts, and I will ask Isolde to spin so you can witness her gorgeous buttocks, and the pretty shoulders, all ready for welting."

Isolde spun, and enjoyed somewhat the slight applause.

"Grab your ankles, Isolde."

Isolde had been doing sit-ups and toe touches for weeks in practice for this command.

She bent and grabbed her ankles, jutting out her ass.

She heard a swish and OH! the pain.

The cruel lead scavenged her left cheek, and Isolde bit her inside lip to keep from screaming.

Another swish and the Antidepressant scourged her back.

Isolde, who worked as a medical illustrator, wondered what the doctors she worked for would think of this crazy and destructive hobby of hers.

Oh, the PAIN!

Isolde tried very hard not to collapse. She also had to summon such inner urges to keep a death grip on her ankles.

"All right, Isolde, release your ankles and stand. No, don't grab on to me, If you can't straighten up by yourself, you sweaty, bleeding pig, I can have the Antidepressant assist."

But, Isolde made it to her feet, still facing away from the enraptured audience of horny distributors.

Earlier, a woman from Lady LeatherPetals had brought her chubby twenty-eight year old son to the stage.

"Down with your knee breeches, Laurion."

Laurion had dropped his pants and the Lady LeatherPetals rep had used an adventurous martinet on his pudgy butt...

But despite the applause from that, Laurion's misery did not elicit the enthusiasm that Isolde seemed to be getting now.

"Turn around, Isolde, and put your hands behind your neck, and poke out those gorgeous 32 D's, babe."

Isolde was weeping a bit, but she turned around and attempted to jut out her breasts.

Specs swung the Antidepressant about a bit, smiling.

"Would anyone else like to do the honors on my submissive's front?"

In the audience, E.J. McGinley's dick got real hard. Oboy. EJ was a representative for Phoenix Punishment House, and although he also was an enthusiast, ya could say...

EJ had never had a free female submissive, or anyone worth looking at.

EJ raised his hand, trying not to look too pimply and desperate.

The feller on stage with them Seventies style glasses smiled and pointed at him, and the cute lil blondie, she looked like she was going to get sick.

"Specs! You can't mean it. I trusted it would just be you administering-"

But Specs backhanded her, and waved that Antidepressant whip at her.

By George, if EJ got to have a bit of a party here, he would definitely buy a couple of these Antidepressants for Phoenix Punishment House, yessiree Bob.

Though EJ didn't have a female slave at home, he had met a nice young guy at a BDSM munch, or roundup or whatever you call it, and Irwin had been a sweet little punching bag for EJ, and Irwin sucked a mean dick himself.

So EJ might be buyin' a Antidepressant for himself and Irwin, who knew?

But I gotta check it out, knock this bitch-Isolde is her name?-around just a wee little bit!

As the revolting creature descending on the weeping Isolde, Specs handed him the Antidepressant and stepped back, smiling slightly.

Isolde could at any point, give her safe word, but no...she's frigging herself, yet again!

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