Mistress Myriam of Buttermilk Falls

She'd whipped his bare buttocks on a regular basis, and once or twice she'd strung his scrotum up to a pulley from the ceiling and hung him upside down while she questioned him on the fall of Rome, or whatever he was studying that month.

This hands-on tutoring helped considerably when Chauncey had hurt his knee in sophomore year and had had to go from the sweet football scholarship ride to applying for academic grants to finish up school as a history scholar. He owed it all to Myriam, who had given him far more guidance than his fucked-up parents ever had.

It wasn't all fun—Myriam had kept poor Chauncey on about one orgasm a month through high school, sometimes allowing him to fuck her after thirty days of oral ministrations...and sometimes being forced to jerk off, sometimes in front of a group of her laughing girlfriends.

It had been sheer hell having his balls and penis locked together in that damned piercing, particularly when Myriam was whipping his dick in the piercing, or locking weights and other things to it. Who wants imprisoned genitals?

Sometimes Myriam would actually lock Chauncey's penis to a really BIG weight, like one of his twenty pound barbells, and then she'd wave her tits at him and get him to drag it by the tip of his penis. It was amazing how excited he'd get and how energetic he'd be in dragging a huge weight in an effort to get to his girlfriend's breasts...

And then it got a bit more stringent when they'd gone off to college. Myriam had told Chauncey that he was getting to cum too much, and that he would now be permitted to only orgasm at the end of the semester, with the codicil that his grades were at least a 3.0.

The second bit of bad news was, Myriam was a young woman and wanted to meet other guys—and girls! She was bisexual, it seemed.

Several nights a week, while Chauncey had stayed home and studied, Myriam would be out with all sorts of men and women...sometimes bringing them back to the house. When this happened of course, Chauncey had usually had to sleep in the living room.

He really didn't enjoy being horny, his dick locked to that horrible piercing and whatever little metal weight was down there...and listening to Myriam's moans and screams from the bedroom.

But, as she had pointed out, she didn't need to study as much as he did. She made A's effortlessly, and anyway, Grandma was paying for the apartment. Chauncey had better understand what was going on here!

It was indescribable how difficult Chauncey had it, at a school with lots of beautiful, flirtatious women, while he was locked in that effing piercing.

Myriam had encouraged Chauncey to hang out, have friends, even to make out with other girls, as long as he kept his pants on, which of course he did, because he couldn't explain the piercing and why his dick was locked to his balls!

And then one night something happened which was just about unacceptable, though nothing was really unacceptable where Myriam was concerned. Myriam had brought home a tall, well built black man, who was known on the Dartmouth campus as "The Mongrel".

The Mongrel was an African American activist, and was a wrestler on the college team. He was strong and was the grandchild of two Black Panthers, and the son of a rather vituperative rap artist... "Mon, meet Chauncey." Myriam had said that night. "Mon and I are dating."

Chauncey had given Mon his best Richie Cunningham smile, and had offered his hand, but the Mongrel had just turned away with a scowl.

Chauncey had assumed that he would be taking his usual place on the couch while Myriam pleased the Mongrel in the bedroom, but was horrified when Myriam told Chauncey she wanted his participation in their lovemaking.

"Chauncey, the Mongrel has a lot of deep seated anger about slavery in America, and to process that out, we are going to go through some role play. You can be really helpful in this." The Mongrel had just stared straight at Chauncey, who looked a bit nonplussed.

"But Myriam, this is ridiculous. He was born in what, 1989? How did he experience slavery? His dad is a multimillion dollar rap star." Chauncey had shaken his head. This had made no sense whatsoever.

"Besides, Myriam I owe no one for reparations. My grandparents emigrated here from Poland in 1938. Sixty three years after the Emancipation Proclamation! They'd never seen a black person, much less enslave one" But now this creature, this Mongrel, covered in gold bling, was staring at Chauncey like he was Hitler.

"White boy, you better shut yo' face and take yo' clothes off. You gonna suck some dick tonight, ofay motherfucker." These were the first words out of the Mongrel's mouth. He had glowered at Chauncey, who had now regretted that he'd not brought his deer rifle with him to Dartmouth.

Myriam had smiled implacably at Chauncey. "I know you've not had an orgasm in 73 days, and with your grades in Differential Calculus, you probably aren't going to qualify at the end of the semester. But Myriam might let you play with your dick tonight if you do what Master Mongrel says."

What the hell? Chauncey had had to admit to himself that he'd really enjoyed becoming Myriam's submissive. It had thrilled him to beg for her beautiful body, and his dick had often hardened, tugging painfully against the cruel piercing when she'd denied him access to her perfect breasts.

Chauncey had often wondered if he was a fag, as he'd submitted to Myriam butt-fucking him with a dildo, and then making him lick his own shit off it afterwards...and then refusing to kiss him because he was a shit-eater.

But this was way across the line. Suck some nigger's dick? But Chauncey was so horny. Four or five nights a week, after Myriam had returned from her dates, she would unlock his piercing and slowly stroke his dick for

hours, making him cry and beg before she'd ice him down and lock him up again. It was horrible, his need to cum. He was only twenty years old and the hormones were killing him, man.

Myriam might let him jerk off if he submitted to the Mongrel? It looked as if there wasn't going to be much of a choice, anyway. The Mongrel was walking right over to Chauncey, and yes sir, he had grabbed Chauncey by the shirt and slammed him against the wall. "Bitch, you're going to take off them threads, or the Mongrel gonna rip them off fo' you."

And Chauncey had stripped off his clothes. He'd instinctively kneeled down naked before the Mongrel, who had removed his leather belt, then dragging Chauncey up by his right nipple and throwing him across the couch. WHACK! WHACK! THWACK! CRACK! The belt had risen and fell, and Chauncey had cried miserably. The Mongrel was really, really strong.

After Chauncey's whipping, the three had gone into the bedroom, and Chauncey had knelt, his reddened buttocks resting painfully against his ankles, as Myriam and the Mongrel had begun undressing each other.

"Now you're going to suck Mon's dick a little bit so it's REAL hard." Myriam had told Chauncey, and he'd done it, and found that the penis wasn't all that disgusting in his mouth. It wasn't fun, but...

Then, while the Mongrel had fucked Myriam, (without a condom, Chauncey had resentfully noted) Chauncey had sucked the Mongrel's testicles, resting his head just under where the Mongrel was pounding it into Myriam.

The Mongrel had been really potent, and after he'd cum twice in Myriam's pussy and once in her ass, she'd gotten tired, so the Mongrel had bent Chauncey over and fucked HIS ass, too.

Then the Mongrel had told Chauncey that he wasn't going to unlock the piercing because he sensed that Chauncey still had "attitude" problems. They'd sent Chauncey, bitterly weeping to the living room to go to sleep, and he'd heard their moans and cries all night.

Chauncey had discovered that he was quite aroused by the Mongrel, and he'd had a helluva time getting to sleep.

He'd tried to jerk off despite the piercing, and of course that was impossible. The reason Myriam had set Chauncey up with a piercing instead of a chastity belt was primarily so he could pleasure himself without cumming...she got a real kick out of that.

The next morning, the Mongrel had woken Chauncey up by throwing an old beer in his face, and then dragged Chauncey into the bathroom, where he'd forced Chauncey to let him pee in Chauncey's mouth... and then Chauncey gave the Mongrel an impromptu blowjob without asking.

"That's better, white boy. Now I'll unlock you." The Mongrel had the keys, apparently, and he unlocked Chauncey, who jerked off on the Mongrel's boots and then happily licked up his cum. It had certainly been an interesting pairing. Myriam had eventually broken up with the Mongrel, but certainly her time with him had been a learning experience for Chauncey.

Now he stared desperately at Myriam as she teased his cock. It had been 93 days this time since he'd had a spurt, and poor Chauncey was damned desperate. "You wouldn't like it if I transferred to Buttermilk State?" Myriam asked Chauncey playfully as she pumped his hard dick and waved her corseted cleavage in his face.

"Think, Chauncey, you could take the chastity piercing off and go fuck whoever you wanted to." Myriam smiled as the realization hit Chauncey's face. "You're almost ready to graduate, next year, right?

All those girls who give you hot looks. I know your lab partner in Organic Chem is really hot for you, that strawberry blonde? You could give it to her right over the laboratory table if you liked...whaddya think?"

Chauncey thought about it. Cheryl, his hot little lab partner, who asked him constantly why he was so committed to Myriam. Cheryl was far prettier than Myriam, and he'd like to light a Bunsen burner under her, boy.

But Cheryl wasn't as bright as Myriam, and certainly not as exciting.

Also, could Chauncey make it without Myriam? He'd never been able to do homework on his own... Social promotion had gotten him as far as senior year in high school at age twenty-one, and Myriam had had to kick his ass to get him to graduate, and of course power him through three years at one of the most competitive colleges in America.

Chauncey wasn't stupid, but he was terribly lazy. Being allowed to cum in return for a B average on his midterms had done a world of good.

And he LOVED Myriam, despite her infidelities, even with the bi-weekly whippings and tortures...he just did! Last week she'd hung him by his pierced nipples and made him watch while she was fucked by three freshman boys, and then Chauncey had been forced to lick the dirty semen and pussy scum off their cocks before they got dressed again...but he'd do that daily to make his princess happy! What else was life about?

He couldn't lose her. Tears began streaming out of Chauncey's eyes as he watched his cruel little princess stroking his cock, the cock that wouldn't cum until June.

"Don't worry, Chauncey" Myriam said, as she smiled. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to ask around at Myron's Purgatory (this was the local BDSM club) and see if any of my friends would like to look after a rich old sub geezer. But you and I will be together forever. Now lick my clit and get me hot for my date tonight!"

LATER Myriam walked into the front lobby of Myron's Purgatory, and headed to the bar. "Hey, Mercutio, is Scarlett Sharp around?" The pierced young bartender wiping the counter looked at Myriam with tired eyes. It had been quite lively at the Purg the night before.

"I think Scarlett is in the West Dungeon with a friend of hers" Mercutio said, using quote marks around friend, which of course gave Myriam the idea that it was a paid "friend". "I'm sure you can go back there and see them, though, Myriam. Privacy's never that big an issue with Scarlett."

"You look really out of it, Merc." Myriam said, gazing at him. "What's going on...working too much?" She leaned over and touched his arm.

"Oh, Myriam...my Master is making me wear a heated butt plug right now. It's a new invention and whenever he presses a little button—he's over there at that table—it heats up here in my ass, and sometimes I think I'm going to collapse." Mercutio looked like he was suffering just a bit, but Myriam knew that Merc adored his Master, a big husky fellow named Corrigan, and in fact couldn't live without him.

Myriam tapped Mercutio's arm sympathetically and walked into the back bar. She was eager to see Scarlett Sharp. Although Myriam was a dominant some of the time, she'd had her interests in the other side of things, and had been Scarlett's slave for about eighteen months...

Scarlett, a sultry brunette, had been in the "scene" for over thirty years, since happening onto a bondage convention not fifty feet from her Vacation Bible School, and the first time Myriam laid eyes on Scarlett, she'd felt she needed a spanking from her. Scarlett had resisted this, as she was old friends with Myriam's grandparents.

But, after Elk and Kate gave Scarlett. the high sign, she'd taken Myriam back to her small apartment and tied her to a whipping post that she kept in her closet...then she'd left Myriam there for about seven hours.

Myriam had been raging when Scarlett returned. "I thought you were going to punish me!" Myriam was gorgeous, and was used to being fussed over, and being ignored while being locked in a closet and tied to a post was a much worse punishment than fifty with a scourge. And of course Scarlett had known this!

Eventually Myriam had gotten her whipping, and then she'd learned a few things about obedience that no one else could possibly have told her. The high point of the relationship had been when she'd gotten "SCARLETT" tattooed on her ass...

Myriam really believed that Scarlett had possibly been the love of her life, but of course Chauncey was going to be the better provider, even if she had to beat the stuffing out of him to fix it that way. Now, Myriam walked into the dungeon hall where Scarlett was "charming" a client with a piece of cut off garden hose.

"There (WHACK!!) you go Demetrius, (WHACK!!) you want to fiddle (WHACK!!) with your chastity belt(WHACK!!) do you, you want (WHACK!!) to take it off and(WHACK!!) play with your (WHACK!!) wee-wee, and (WHACK!!) of course I (WHACK!!) don't know anything (WHACK!!)about it, (WHACK!!) right? You pay (WHACK!!) me $300 a week (WHACK!!) to keep your keys, (WHACK!!) and give you a (WHACK!!) little discipline, and (WHACK!!) then I find out you've(WHACK!!) been tampering (WHACK!!) with your (WHACK!!) belt so you can(WHACK!!) jack your Willy, huh?"

Myriam stood back, enjoying the show. Poor Demetrius was covering his head with his hands, and dancing around, naked except for his chastity belt, which had a bobby pin stuck in it...he'd evidently not been able to get it back out before he came to see Mistress Scarlett.

Scarlett was resplendent in a violet T-shirt showing her full cleavage, and hot pants, fishnets and high heels, and she was whacking poor Demetrius with the cut off hose like if she stopped, the world would end. But of course discipline had to be kept.

Scarlett turned to Myriam, as she continued to pummel Demetrius with the hose. "Hey there(WHACK!!) Myriam, you sexy (WHACK!!) Thing...I am working (WHACK!!) over this worthless (WHACK!!) bag of (WHACK!!) bones.

He lives (WHACK!!) in Lawrence, Kansas, and (WHACK!!)is locked in chastity (WHACK!!) there, and if he (WHACK!!) pleases his (WHACK!!) wife and (WHACK!!) has perfect (WHACK!!) behavior, he comes(WHACK!!) here and I unlock(WHACK!!) him, after a session (WHACK!!) or two, (WHACK!!) and he gets to (WHACK!!) jerk off—every 90 days.

But (WHACK!!) apparently (WHACK!!) he's been (WHACK!!) trying to break into his belt, and (WHACK!!) after he got this (WHACK!!) bobby pin locked (WHACK!!) in the keyhole. Demetrius's wife sent him to me early (WHACK!!) to get a reminder of what (WHACK!!) bad boys aren't (WHACK!!) supposed to do!"

Finally, the poor man fell to his knees, and Scarlett tossed the hose down and went to greet her friend with a hug and kiss. "I am so sick of this work, honey." Scarlett whispered in Myriam's ear. "If there was anything a little more restful, you know?"

Finally Demetrius was sent to um, wash up, and the ladies took a booth in the dining room of Myron's Purgatory. Scarlett did look tired. "I just get so sick of all the goddamn clients, Myriam" she said with a sigh. "I am a part-time domme, and then I also have to manage the Suffering Lounge, which is Purgatory's main dance floor."

Scarlett took a deep swig of her Long Island Iced Tea. "I remember when I discovered BDSM as a kid, and I loved it. For twenty years it's been a ball, all the torturing and pain and all that good shit, but now I'm getting old, and I want to calm down...just a little, you know?"

"You look great, Scarlett." Myriam said loyally. "But let me tell you about an interesting proposition. My great uncle is a doctor, he lives about forty miles from here, and he's a sweet man, but lonely—a widower, and he needs a dominant girl to look after him. And he's loaded, not that this should be your main priority."

Both women laughed at this—the dominant woman's priority is always getting a little cash! "My nana tells me that what Uncle Gideon needs is just someone to haul his ass a little—make him clean his house, give him some hairbrush discipline, and of course limit his orgasms so he really, really appreciates the chance to jerk off, you know what I mean?"

Scarlett did. She understood the plight of the Beta male. Alpha males went around fucking whoever they liked, and Beta males were left to take care of things. That was the way it was, always. In Myriam's case it had happened twice.

Her Grandma Kate had been impregnated by a handsome loser, he'd taken off, and she'd married and enslaved Grandpa Elkin to have him take care of Kit, who met her own handsome loser, donating good gene-laden sperm to produce Myriam...and now Myriam was with Chauncey, but fucking all the hot Alpha losers she could...for fun!

"Your Uncle Gideon sounds like a sweet man." Scarlett said, as she heard more about him. "I might be quite happy helping him out, and he's closer to my age—I'm forty-two, he's what, fifty-eight? It might be a good deal for me."

"Sure, and you could still pick up handsome drunkards at the various bars and beer gardens in Buttermilk Falls." Myriam said, as she considered it. "I am too committed to my education—raising hell at Dartmouth—to go look after Uncle Gid, and besides, it's a little creepy to dom your uncle. I always feel a little funny when I spank and torture my Gramps, right?"

"Well, technically your Gramps isn't a blood relative, and your Uncle Gid would be. Sure, you should keep doing your thing. I am willing to at least go to Buttermilk Falls and meet the man." Scarlett said.

And she did!