Slut Boy Mega Collection Volume 3

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

Goddess Katia’s Punishment

I don’t know if she knows this, but I left those streaks on the mirror deliberately.

Granted, it’s hard to perfectly clean an eight by twelve-foot mirror, especially when it’s bolted to the ceiling over an enormous waterbed. And the fact that it’s beveled to magnify the reflection makes any tiny imperfection that much easier to spot. Actually, I was counting on both of these convenient facts to both imperfectly mask and yet still draw attention to my purposeful, contemptible failure.

I knew that when she saw it Goddess Katia would be quick to punish me. Yet I also knew – or at least I hoped – that after that terrible ordeal she would follow her usual pattern and f**k me extra-vigorously: to show that she still loved me, and that all was at last forgiven. I’d been waiting in heart-throbbing suspense for at least two hours to see if my brazen (or maybe foolhardy) gambit paid off.

Of course, Goddess f***s me every day (and night) without fail. Even after almost ten years together she never tires of our admittedly bizarre marital relations. But after our punishment sessions her f*****g is always so extreme and extravagant (probably because punishing me turns her on so much) that I always feel as if I’ve finally died and gone to our own special understanding of heaven, where serving my glorious Goddess in an infinitely agonizing, yet eternally abject adoration will be my final, well-deserved reward.

But first, of course, comes the punishment. When Goddess saw those two thin streaks on her supremely important above-the-bed mirror (one tiny flaw in my otherwise faultlessly meticulous daily cleaning of her incredibly opulent mansion) she rather unconvincingly feigned outrage. Pissed off or not, Goddess still never passes up any opportunity to discipline my slightest, even imagined, error. This time she immediately ordered me to strip, and to precede her to her elaborate underworld.

Once down in the basement dungeon, and surrounded by her myriad of instruments of bondage and discipline, she ordered me to stand spread-legged directly under her most powerful ceiling-mounted winch. Then she first kicked my legs even wider and wider apart, until I was tottering for balance and she could lock my ankles into her longest spreader bar. This device truly is insidiously long – not only does it push the triangle formed by my legs and the bar way beyond equilateral to the seriously isosceles, but it brings my butt down low enough to be at the perfect height for her beautifully petite, ninety-eight pound, five foot zero-inches form.

Of course, Goddess didn’t leave me tottering that way for long. Once my legs were spread and secured, she bound my arms tightly together behind my back, lacing them into a black leather bondage glove, and then hooked this to the cable descending from the ceiling winch. One touch on the remote, and this machine then hauled my bound arms high into the air, until my shoulder sockets were screaming with tension, my body was bent far over at the waist, and my widely spread feet balanced on tiptoes.

After that, Goddess seemed satisfied with my bondage and posture. Only the proper punishment remained. Truly in her element, she grinned at me threateningly, and asked the question that I knew was coming.

“You look wonderfully uncomfortable, my foolishly naughty, shamefully misbehaving Slut-boy. But you’re not really in any serious pain quite yet. I think you need some clips and weights hung here and there, don’t you?”

With an effort I cleared my throat, and then said what she expected of me:

“I desperately need whatever you decree, my glorious Goddess. I have failed you most miserably: repaid your generous ownership with shamefully shoddy service. Please, do to me whatever you need to in order to put things right between us once again. I lust only to be your perfectly abject slave forever!”

Goddess Katia smiled gloatingly down at that, reveling in her complete, total and eternal ownership of me. Then she turned, went to the nearest wall rack, and gathered up what devices she required.

Two tight, toothed clips were attached to my n*****s – ouch! Then Goddess exacerbated this distress by hanging heavy weights from them, stretching my t**s out torturously toward the floor. Yet that was nothing compared to what was coming. Next Goddess hung her heaviest weight of all from my soldered-shut c**k-cage.

Goddess Katia has never forgiven me the premature ejaculation that sent me down the road to slavery in the first place. My manhood is now locked away forever, and if Goddess wants c**k, then she merely attaches one of her giant dildos to the cage (giving me a prick many times the size of my own that never fails her), or she straps in place my inside-and-outside double-dildo-equipped wide leather gag and rides my face. In any case, my s*x organs nowadays provide me exclusively with misery, as they constantly, futilely try to erect in their miniscule confinement. Or when Goddess shocks them, sticks them with needles, or as now, hangs them with so much weight they feel as if they’re being slowly torn from my body.

At last Goddess felt ready to begin beating me. Shivering with anticipation and delight, she chose a thin, limber cane from among her dozens of implements and approached my backside. “How many strokes do you think you deserve, Slut-boy?”

“Glorious Goddess Katia, I couldn’t possibly answer that. This is your universe, and I am but the lowliest of its creatures. Please punish me as extravagantly or leniently as you see fit. Whichever it is, I will love you for it more than ever when it is done.”

“Very well then, Slut-boy. I decree that for each of those streaks, which you will clean as soon as you’re released, you will receive twenty strokes of the cane. Count with me to forty now, and thank me after each one. You know, as always, that this beating is entirely for your own good – well, almost. I do confess I enjoy it immensely…”

Thus began my horrible ordeal.

Forty times Goddess Katia slashed her cane as hard as she could across my naked buttocks. Forty times I somehow turned my scream of agony into an articulated number. And forty times I blubbered my gratitude to the gorgeous Goddess punishing me. At the end, when Goddess at last returned her cane to its place on the racks, I was so wrung out that I hung wholly from my bound arms, my flayed legs unable to support me in the least. Despite the screaming in my shoulders (which paled in comparison to that in my ass and upper thighs) I hung there so bent over at the waist that my face was at the same level as the lead weight dragging inexorably at my ineffectual s*x organs.

“Whew! That was a bit of a workout!” exclaimed Goddess Katia.

Sweat ran down her beautiful face, and dampened her amazing flood of waist-length raven hair.

“I’m going to need a serious bath now. And I suppose I’ll have to wash myself for once. My naughty slave, Slut-boy, is going to stay right here, suffer appropriately, and think about what he’s done, until I finally find it in my divine wisdom to forgive him!”

And with that she swept into the elevator and was gone.

And so I’ve been waiting here, weights dragging agonizingly at my n*****s and genitals, arms and shoulders stressed beyond belief, backside flaming with the pain of my caning, humbly bent over in my bondage and counting every excruciating second until my glorious Goddess at last returns. And yet even all these many torments are nothing next to the agony of anticipation: will Goddess deign to f**k me when she finally comes back? And will she do so with the mindless abandon, limitless passion, and inexhaustible energy she almost always brings to the act after a particularly satisfying punishment session? Only time will tell I suppose…

Ah yes! At last I hear the elevator descending!

Goddess is finally returning to her underworld, and to her erring husband/subject/slave awaiting judgment. Heart pounding within me, I crane my neck, eager for that first glimpse of her, which will undoubtedly tell me everything I need to know…

Yes! Oh yes! Oh praise you and bless you, my beautiful, gloriously gorgeous Goddess! The door slides open and there she is, in all of her incredible beauty. Her hair is clean and shining, her face lit up with love and lust and her perfectly symmetrical, amazingly large, beautifully firm, round breasts dramatically displayed. Best of all, the only exception to her heavenly nudity are the skin-tight, flesh-colored p***s-pants that she particularly fancies for f*****g me. Not only is the enormous organ (twelve inches long and as big around as a beer bottle) equipped with an inner vibrator, it connects to c******l stimulators and a deep vaginal probe that transmits every vicious thrust that she gives me right back into herself: f*****g us both with every stroke.

Immediately my imprisoned p***s starts to swell, doing its damnedest to erect in its tiny confinement. Of course this only adds to the agony of all the weight suspended from it, but nothing can stop me from trying to get hard. From now until whenever our maniacal bout of f*****g ends, my organ will be a compact ball of excruciation, straining futilely at the bars of its cage. Helplessly I groan in pain, need, and unholy anticipation as my ruling Goddess approaches and addresses me. “Well, do you think you’ve learned your lesson, Slut-boy?”

“Oh yes, my Goddess, definitely. Thank you so much for correcting me!”

“Very well then. I forgive you. In a little while I’ll take you back upstairs, and after you clean the mirror properly, we’ll go to bed. Then I will prove to you how much I love you by allowing you to make respectful, worshipful love to your wonderfully omnipotent Goddess. We will kiss and cuddle and caress so slowly and exquisitely…you’ll be allowed to fondle and suckle at my bountiful breasts and big hard c**k to your lowly heart’s delight…then you’ll service my heavenly v****a with your fingers, lips and tongue for uncounted hours…. I may even allow you to attach a giant vibrator to the outside of your cage, and pretend that you’re still a real man, and not an eternally impotent sissy-slave, by mounting and f*****g me with it until I come about a thousand times. Wouldn’t you just love all of that?”

Weakly I gulp, trying not to think of the insanity-inducing amount of competing ecstasy and frustration this last always causes me, how I often end up weeping helplessly and banging my head on the wall in an excess of endlessly escalating, eternally un-relievable arousal. Swallowing down my lust and dread, feeling my caged c**k throbbing angrily in its cramped little prison, I somehow answer her. “Yes, my wonderful Goddess. Those occasions torture me terribly, but I live for them nonetheless.”

Goddess smiles sweetly at me. “Yes, I know you do. And I know how exquisitely you suffer for me. I can hardly imagine how you live, and stay sane. Ten years without an orgasm, or even a complete and pain-free erection! If I don’t come my brains out at least three times a day I can’t stand it! But as you know, your suffering and deprivation, your eternally burning and yet eternally denied need is what turns me on most of all. That you need to come so bad, and yet never can, thrills me endlessly. And what’s more important, Slut-boy: your worst suffering, or your Holy Reigning Goddess’ tiniest arousal?”

“Your arousal, of course, my Goddess! I exist only to provide you with pleasure, in the most miniscule amount! I couldn’t live with the thought of you being unhappy, or even the tiniest bit unfulfilled. I only want to slavishly serve you throughout all eternity!”

“And so you shall,” declares Goddess Katia. “I may be cruel in my unavoidable way, but I am also a most benevolent Goddess. And although I keep your c**k forever locked, and allow you almost no manly pleasures at all, I delight in providing you with alternative fulfillment. So now I am going to f**k your sissy little brains out, just as I do every day, and later, after I let you worship, service, and f**k me, I will probably do it again and again and again and again, just to show you, as always, how much better I am at f*****g than you are, and thus how appropriate our respective places in this universe are.”

“Oh, thank you, Goddess, thank you so much!” I babble.

Goddess Katia merely grins, and then she picks up that big double-dildo c**k-gag from one of the racks. She forces the shorter, four-inch p***s into my mouth, and then tightly buckles the straps around the back of my head, leaving the longer, ten-inch erection jutting out from my gagged face.

“There! I won’t be riding this just now, but you’re going to need something to bite down on, Slut-boy. I’m going to do you extra-brutally right here. Which will be greater, the pain or the pleasure? I don’t want to know until after I’m done!”

Goddess Katia strokes her enormous boner, pumping on the shaft and rubbing it against my face, teasing me with what’s coming. Then she switches on the vibrator and circles around my bent over form until she stands directly between my locked-apart legs.

Despite the outrageous size of that c**k, the only lubrication she needs is to spit on it a few times. After ten long years together, in which Goddess’ favorite sport, pleasure, pastime and s****l act has been to righteously and exhaustively butt f**k me several times a day, my hole has been stretched out enough to accommodate even the most gigantic of her many p*****s. Now Goddess wastes no time at all. She steps up, spreads my cheeks out wide and stabs her vicious way into me.

As always, I groan in eloquent delirium, as pain, shame, unimaginable pleasure and un-relievable arousal flood through me. Goddess’ laugh in response is both wicked and gleeful, as she begins to perform her favorite activity on me for maybe the millionth time.

“Ah, Slut-boy, you love it! You’ve loved it ever since the day I took your cherry! Remember how hard you came, all bound up in my bed, with a pillow lifting up your ass and me attacking it like mad? You shot more hot come out onto my pillow than I’ve ever seen any man produce, much less a sissy little butt-slut chamber-slave. Perfect experience for a first and last time respectively! And now we are bound together forever by this act: the quintessential expression of my unlimited eternal dominance over you!”

So saying she starts thrusting away: pumping pneumatically in and out of me until her hips thwap! against my cane-flayed ass and the length of her giant c**k fills me completely with every stroke. Its hot electric buzzing stokes my arousal mercilessly, as does Goddess’ panting and moaning and trash talking as she f***s me.

“Little slut! Little pig! Little d**k-slave sissy-boy! Feel me take your tender ass! Feel me ram my monstrous c**k all the way into you! Feel me steal away your tiny remaining manhood with every overwhelming thrust!”

Believe me, Goddess, I do. But what I also begin to feel, as her rhythm accelerates along with her enjoyment, are the agonies formerly relegated to my secondary awareness.

As my body is pounded back and forth by my brutal sodomy, the weights attached to my n*****s and genitals begin to swing wildly too, re-awakening the agony in these areas and compounding it constantly. Likewise the bondage glove and cable bending me over and stretching up my shoulders is all that holds me in place (Goddess’ gripping hands on my hips excepted) and every time these restraints snub my forward momentum and snap me back into place, the stress on my shoulder sockets seems to increase by many orders of magnitude. Soon I’m biting down hard on the plastic c**k filling my mouth, and screaming unintelligibly into the leather gag completely covering the lower half of my face. Whether the pain or pleasure is greater, or whether they are ultimately indistinguishable, is impossible to answer. I only know that I both want it to go on forever and desperately need it to stop immediately.

Of course neither of these outcomes is possible. As of now, Goddess is still only human after all (blasphemous thought, that is!) and cannot yet sustain her favorite activity for all eternity. But she is still an incredibly remarkable human being: fit and petite, tight and toned, amazingly mobile and driven by passions far more extravagant than any I’ve ever encountered. Somehow she carries on sodomizing me through at least three clearly recognizable orgasms, until perhaps an hour has passed and I’m once again hanging limply from my cruelly inverted arms. My legs have long since quit trying to help support me, and the floor under my face is slick with the drool of my delirium and the snot expelled by my incessant sobbing. But finally, when I can no longer think coherently or differentiate between the many sensations continuously assaulting me, I somehow grasp the change when Goddess stops pounding her enormous p***s relentlessly in and out of me.

The clamps are released from my tormented t**s, and the terrible weight stops dragging at my agonized organs. Distantly I’m aware of my legs being unlocked, and when the cable releases my wrists I collapse helplessly to the floor. Cooing encouragingly at me, Goddess unlaces and removes the bondage glove, and spends a few minutes rubbing the life back into my deadwood arms. The pins and needles of this gradually prick me back towards full awareness, and at last I’m nearly coherent again as Goddess snaps a leash onto my permanently locked-on neck collar. Then she drags me staggering to my feet.

“Come on, Slut-boy, let’s go. You can clean up the mess you made down here tomorrow. Right now it’s time for you to fix your horribly faulty job on the mirror. Then we’ll see what you can do for me, before I spend the rest of the night having my violent way with your sexy slave ass once again!”

Woozy, hurting head-to-toe and inside and out, I follow the remorseless tug on the leash, and gorgeous Goddess Katia’s delicious anticipatory grin, into the elevator to upstairs.

I can barely bear to think of what awaits me up there…