What If?

Her writhing subsided, as Her newest slave success took the unbegged for liberty of kissing the insides of either of his Domme's thighs; caressing them tenderly; lovingly. But his Mistress had no punishment to deal to him; no harsh words; no threats of abandonment or exile. She was satiated and satisfied with Her bitch boy's performance. Now...

She had one more of Her powers She chose to wield over him tonight.

And this would be his due reward – as well as Her's.

**********************

She lifted Herself up to a sitting position; tiny gasps emitting from Her lips as the sea of Her raging orgasm calmed and became tranquil once more. She looked at him, Her pleasing new slave; Her juices still glistening around his mouth and dribbling down his chin; coupled with the remains of brandy from an empty snifter, gave evidence to what others can only fantasize about. The lesson for this night was nearly over. He had only his reward remaining to be experienced now.

His breathing too had become erratic panting; gulping down both air and an erotic blend of nectars as a natural stimulus. Its rhythm had become steady since he rode the wave of Her climax down with Her, but it suddenly quickened with irregular beats as his mind now focused on the aching; the throbbing; the intense pain that the cock and ball straps had produced throughout the night.

There wasn't any.

His balls and all of his cock – right up to the tip of its head – were now completely numb.

**********************

The circulation had been reduced to almost nothing; as the near frantic slave forgot his manners in asking permission and stole a peek at the near cadaver- like coloration of his genitals. His balls were dead gray, from what he could see of them between the still wet leather straps and buckles. As for his cock, the base had mimicked the color of his balls, and the balance of the shaft had an alarming blue-white tint to it. But the worse visual shock was his cockhead. The blood had obviously been forced up into the head, and with the erection at its peak from just a few moments ago, it had taken on a blackened appearance; much like a forgotten piece of meat on an unattended barbeque grill. He bit down on his bottom lip to stifle the cry attempting to escape from the back of his throat, as the trawled tears welling up in his eyes managed to spill out onto his cheeks – and onto his Domme's thighs.

He realized too late to turn his head away, as several of his tears trickled down Her thigh. He knew She had felt them, and where they had derived from. He caught his breath, as another frantic thought besieged his mind. He had gotten this far; so very, very far and in this one brief microscopic part of a second, a few shed tears may have cost him his craved for dominated life. Suddenly, he felt Her hand upon his head as She flatly said, "Its time for a change of scenery for the last of the lesson tonight. We're going back to My chambers - and My lair. On your feet, bitch boy."

The slave considered the words only a reprieve for his sorely chafed knees, but was still insanely distraught over his strangled cock and balls. He wondered if they would ever revive, or, for that matter, ever be released from their leather and steel prison. He contemplated the probability of their full recuperation and wished he hadn't. The tug of war in his mind was interrupted now, as the Mistress of Possible Irreparable Harm led him by his bright red leash and Her black leather gloved hand back to Her chambers – as his balls and cock bounced listlessly with each stiff legged step he took.

She navigated Her pet over to the side of Her bed; it's plumped up bedding so inviting a Shangri-La to the damaged slave. She removed the leash from his black leather collar and ordered him to lie down on his back; spread eagled, which the sub gratefully obeyed. His knees were still abraded, but not bearing his weight any longer, and for that, he- and they- were immensely relieved. His Mistress walked around to the foot of the bed and mounted it from there; slinking up between Her submissive's legs and kneeling back on Her calves directly in front of his injured loins. As if in a hypnotic state; without qualms or fears, he calmly watched his Mistress take his lifeless cock in Her hand and gently begin to stroke it. She caressed his cock with deliberate rhythm, as he observed with the wide eyed awe of a child seeing a fireworks display light up the sky for the very first time.

Only Mistress wasn't a Roman candle or a fountain or a bottle rocket.

She was beginning to create fireworks with what She was doing to his once numb cock.

**********************

The massage by leather was starting to awaken his anesthetized member; its cock and ball restraint induced coma being fought off now with Her every sensuous stroke. The prickly, tingling sensations felt along the shaft were almost unbearable to the now squirming slave, as Her swamp green eyes observed his every action, and reaction, to Her restoration project on his cock.

The suffering experienced by Her property was temporary; nearing its end, as Mistress' mouth enveloped the once slumbering cockhead. The revival tactic was instantaneous, as he closed his eyes; floating somewhere behind them in erotic delirium. Her mouth continued the oral arousal; Her tongue kneading the walls of his shaft on Her downward motions, and Her lips sucking ever so gently on Her upward moves.

He began to moan for the third time tonight in yet a third way. This time it was the moans of a slave on the receiving end of wanton fantasies come true. He felt his entire cock twitch with the sweep of Her wet tongue against it, as if it were an artist's brush and his cock the canvas. He felt his cock's hardness; its thickness still stretching to fill its own skin, but... he did not feel anything below the base of his shaft. His balls were still asleep; still tightly bound -and still needed for his cock to cum. The slave clenched the coverlet with both hands as the frustration mounted and as his Mistress continued to tease and please his rebounded cock. He felt the warm lips of his Domme on his groin, kissing; nibbling, as the leather of Her gloved hand's touch drove him to new heights of erotic impulses. He wanted to; needed to cum, but the desire only rested above his encumbered balls. He pumped at his Domme's mouth; at Her glove; at the air; at anything and everything to attempt to reach a climax, but to no avail. His body and his mind told him he needed to cum, and as he looked to his soul for its opinion, his Mistress – and Fate – made the final decision for the slave trinity.

The fireworks' finale was now to be.

**********************

He felt still Her warm, moist mouth encircling his cockhead, Her tongue's tip invading the slit where precum should, and would be under ordinary circumstances. But tonight was a night of extraordinary circumstances, and Her tongue came out of the crevice dry each time. Undaunted and unaffected, She continued Her oral lesson, as the desperate to cum slave lifted his head off the featherdown pillows to see what he was now feeling. As he rested his head down for yet another exasperated time, She made the final move.

He looked up to the ceiling in helpless despair; wanting; so very much wanting to recapture that intense, uncontrolled and indescribable basic animal instinct to enter the world of ecstasy again. Enter it over and over again. He wanted to be able to cum.

And then it happened.

**********************

She had, in one swift movement, unbuckled the straps and released his balls from their captivity. She was still licking and sucking and pumping his cock as She flung the cock and ball restraint across the room. She descended further; sucking his cold, milk white balls into Her mouth's hot incubator. He felt the thaw; the icy floe of semen move slowly; then gain momentum as it warmed and began its journey to the base of his cock. The sudden sensual metamorphosis was incredible, as he closed his eyes for yet another time; this time to concentrate on regaining the sexual, loin wrenching enjoyment known as: orgasm.

Its impact was head on; reaching speeds he never knew existed. He felt as if he were dying; as if his heart had vacated his chest and his veins and arteries did a meltdown. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as the repetitious jolts sent sparkling filaments of iridescent lights like a fiber optics show beneath his eyelids. The volume of cum fired like bullets out of the slit that, just minutes before, was totally dry. His spine arched as if trying to invert itself; the shockwaves still present; long after the seemingly never ending barrage of cream ejected from his cock. The two chambers of the slave's gun were now empty. He had cum all that he had; more than he ever had. He lay spent; exhausted; trying to gather himself together to speak – and try to speak intelligibly to his Mistress.

Now somewhat composed, he went to thank his Lady for allowing him the honor of scening with Her, and was, like earlier in the evening, sharply reprimanded for speaking out of turn. Quickly, the submissive reverted to his slave- in- the -making self, and scrambled off the bed and knelt with his head bowed to show the respect due his Mistress.

"I shall expect you here for your next training lesson this Friday; once again, at eight o'clock. Be here exactly at eight, or don't be here at all. There will be no excuses allowed for your being late again." By now She had alighted from the bed too, and was walking toward a phone sitting on an occasional table by a chaise lounge. She slipped into a silk robe that had been laid out on one of the window seats and then draped Herself onto the chaise. She pressed a button on the phone, picked up the receiver from its cradle and spoke into it.

"Please give My new slave five minutes to get dressed, and then come up here." He studied his Domme's expression as She continued to talk to the faceless; nameless entity on the other end. "Yes; yes exactly. I believe he does, too. We'll discuss that later."

Mistress hung up the phone and rose from the lounge as She approached Her new student slave that still was kneeling by Her lair. "you may get up and get dressed now, bitch boy. your jeans are on the chair to your right. I will be back in a few minutes." And with that, She walked over to an area to the far left of Her chambers that looked like a rather large dressing room; it's mirrored door reflecting a leather and satin and stiletto heels domain within it; the aroma of the leather drifting into Her chambers a seemingly final farewell of the evening to the slave. The new submissive had been impressed once again with the amenities – and seductiveness - of his Domme's home.

As She shut the door of the dressing room behind Her, he turned to retrieve his pants but stopped midway to the chair. "How did My jeans get up here? I left them on the hook by the front door!"

As he continued the few more steps to the chair, the mystery seemed to have only one logical explanation as to who brought his pants upstairs. Evidently, it was while he and Mistress were in the tub. He remembered the voice that had been on the other end of the phone. And maybe it was the same voice that was behind him in the hallway several hours earlier, and most likely the same person that had walked passed him from behind to draw the water for the jacuzzi. Maybe it was all the same voice – and all the same person.

He had barely gotten his jeans zipped up when Mistress returned, now dressed in purple silk pajamas. Then the voice from the other end of the phone; the silent shadow that had drawn their erotic bath, came into the room but a moment later.

"puppy, I wish for you to meet My newest student. I have not decided upon his name yet, but for the moment you may simply refer to him as 'pet'" He nodded his head once in affirmation. She turned to Her new submissive and bid him farewell. "My puppy slave will escort you out. Do not forget the time you are to be here on Friday and remember also you are always expected to wear your slave collar while you are in My presence." She looked at the slave behind the voice; a look of "you know what your orders are now" on Her face; and then turned back to look at Her plebe. "Until then, are there any questions you have of Me?"

"No, Mistress Vixxxen; I have no questions, but... I do beg permission to speak otherwise." He waited for Her to grant his request. Then, taking a deep breath, he continued.

"I wish to thank You for the tremendous honor You have been so generous to have granted Me tonight. You have My undying devotion and I promise You, My Lady, that I will never doubt or question any decision or order that You may issue. I will never fail You." And with just a second's pause and another breath, the new slave summed up his plea for acceptance into Her stable with, "You, My Lady, have my word on this. I hope you find it in Your heart to accept my word as sincere. Please, Mistress Vixxxen; learn to trust me as I have learned to trust You."

He held his breath again; his hands shaking in the aftermath of his short, but emotional speech, as he waited for his Domme to respond.

She looked intently at Her newfound pet; Her eyes penetrating his as if excavating to his soul, as a crescent of a smile formed on Her lips. She never spoke; merely smiled warmly and held Her hand to the side of his face before She turned and walked out the bedroom door to the hallway and beyond; leaving the current Domme student and puppy slave to their own departure.

"She is an amazing Dominatrix. I would think you to do well in always remembering that."

The voice - and words of puppy came across loud and clear as they were apparently meant to do. Surprisingly, the house slave then led the way back through the Mistress' bathroom; through what's beyond is unknown door rather than from the way the plebe had entered Mistress Vixxxen's home over three hours earlier.

He had wondered why he had been taken this way, but wondered no longer as the mystery door opened to the mystery now revealed. The voice explained the reason why he was ordered by their Domme to take Her new pet through this room.

"This sound proof room was designed by Mistress and built by another of Her stable slaves about six months ago." he began to tell the newest pet. "It was designed to enable me, Her longest resident stable groom, to view any new submissive and our Mistress in the jacuzzi; all from the aquarium's background. Most do not pass the test of trust and they usually have failed by the time they scene with Mistress here."

puppy stood in front of the aquarium now and gestured for pet to come closer. "See? Here is the spot where Mistress and i stand to evaluate the student slave when She has given him explicit instructions to execute in Her absence; like She did with you tonight." puppy pointed to the spot where one of the castle's towers had a window that actually was one; small, but quite revealing. For a countless time tonight, the new slave was impressed. "While i am freshening their drinks, She watches to see if Her commands are being faithfully obeyed." puppy nodded toward a side wall where a wet bar stood; totally equipped with under counter refrigerator and beverage glasses. The Mistress thought of everything, and lacked for nothing.

As the two slaves engaged in this revealing conversation, pet couldn't help but ask if puppy had been the one that followed him home from work earlier that night and had then given a detailed report to their Mistress. The coming aware sub really didn't expect a response; he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

puppy looked at the novice slave for a brief moment before he replied in a non committable way.

"There is nothing more critical to Mistress Vixxxen than that of unlimited trust." The voice of puppy went on, "And this i learned from the onset of our relationship. If there is no trust between Mistress and a new slave; there is no new slave. "

With that food for thought to digest, puppy slave led the way from the viewing room down the backstairs; through the kitchen and diningroom to the foyer and front door. The grandfather clock in the parlor now chimed the hours; twelve to be exact, as puppy, on behalf of his Mistress; was the perfect host and wished Her new student a goodnight.

As Patrick, as he still wished himself to be addressed; at least until his Domme renamed him for Her sole amusement, walked out to his car a little after midnight; sneakers in hand, he suddenly stopped in the middle of the front yard. Turning around, he looked up to where he now knew his Domme's chambers to be located, and saw a figure standing at the window; Her black hair cascading down the front of Her purple silk pajamas. The moon was bright and directly overhead and clearly showed his Mistress' face. She was smiling down at him. He returned the smile.

He just stood there, in the middle of Her front yard in the middle of Her night, as it appeared She was in no hurry to see him leave. He would have stood there until morning; gazing upon his Mistress at Her chamber's window, if not for the other figure that now appeared behind his Mistress. It was puppy.

Patrick watched as puppy slave placed his hands upon Mistress' shoulders, and nestled his head against his Domme's, as they now both gazed down upon Her newest subject. He stood there for just a moment longer; long enough to see Her puppy slave kiss Her ear, and draw the curtain. Patrick's fleeting hope of ever being an only slave to his Lady was, of course, an impossible dream. She owned many, but none owned Her. Except perhaps for puppy. He saw that as a distinct possibility. But just before he turned to get into his car and drive home; right before the lace curtains were drawn shut, Mistress's hand; now ungloved but still as alluring, waved to Her departing slave, and renewed hope and faith filled his heart and spurred his fantasies. He waved back to Her, and then headed for his car again.

He started the engine, and looked up once more at Her chamber's window where he had, but just a breath held moment ago, viewed his Domme. The curtains were closed; the candles extinguished. She and puppy; he was sure, had gone to bed - together. He sighed; a deep sigh of wistful envy at that thought, but then he relived, and more importantly understood, the last gesture initiated by his Mistress. She had waved a goodbye to him - to Patrick - not just to the bitch boy slave.

As he drove down the street and away from his first scene with his new Domme, another "What if?" question surfaced. He pondered the question over and over; all the way back to his own home and took to bed with him the same question that early morning. As he drifted off into a deep, Domme induced sleep; he once again asked himself the question:

"What if I prove I trust Her more than any of Her others do?"