milagros317
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This is a nonfiction account of a roleplay session with Mistress Zara and Mistress Kassandra, which took place about a year ago, when both were working at the Hidden Chamber. (Mistress Kassandra has since moved to Angel Stern's.) It has been written up at the request of Mistress Zara, in honor of Mistress Kassandra's return from her trip to Europe.
This story contains extreme F/m tickle torture, spanking, domination, and some adult material. If any of that might offend you, then don't read it. All three characters in the story are over the age of 21.
Added April 26, 2005: This story is the winner of the 2004 Golden Feather Award for the best nonfiction story of the year here. I wish to thank Mistress Zara and Mistress Kassandra for making this possible.
Couples Therapy (FF/m)
by Milagros317
I have been looking forward to this roleplay for months. I will play the part of a man who has just been dumped by his fiancée, and begged her for another chance. Mistress Kassandra will play the part of my fiancée, who has said that the only chance of saving our relationship is to go to a specialist in couples therapy, who lives and practices psychology in a rural area of upstate New York. Mistress Zara will play the part of this psychologist.
Scene One
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I enter the dungeon room fully dressed, and Mistress Zara is waiting for me. She is wearing her glasses instead of her contacts, to look older and more professional. She is incredibly beautiful, with lustrous red hair and green eyes. She asks if I had any trouble finding her house, isolated as it is with the nearest neighbor a mile away. I reply that I took a taxi from the train station. She has me sit down.
"I understand that your fiancée will be joining us soon," she says.
"Yes," I say, "she has my car today, and is driving up here. But it's not clear that she is still my fiancée. That's why we've come to you. She has given me one last chance to change my behavior to save our relationship."
Mistress Zara explains that she specializes in saving relationships, by the use of unconventional methods of therapy. She says that I must feel relaxed and unencumbered, and has me remove all objects from my pockets, my belt, my shoes, and my watch.
"I must know exactly what the problems are between you and your fiancée," she adds, "so tell me, from your point of view, what is wrong."
"Well," I answer, "it is not a problem of communication. Kassandra has three chief complaints about my behavior, and they are all true."
"You admit it, that they're all true? That's very good, we can begin with treatment today, we won't have to clear up any communications problem or deal with your denial. What are the complaints?"
"First, she is angry that I am always tickling her feet, even though she has told me that she hates it, and I shouldn't do it. Second, she is upset that I often use foul language. Third, this is embarrassing, she is very unhappy that I suffer from premature ejaculation, and I'm always done before she is satisfied."
At this point, Mistress Kassandra enters the room, looking fabulous in a white dress, with her long black hair gleaming, and a happy look in her dark brown eyes. She is wearing strappy sandals, as is Mistress Zara.
Mistress Zara introduces herself and welcomes her, and then notes that we have already begun. She repeats the three complaints.
"Yes, that's exactly what must be corrected if our relationship is to have any future," says Mistress Kassandra. "He is always after my feet, and I can't stand to be tickled there. He has a potty mouth. You wouldn't believe what vile things he says when he's watching TV and his baseball team loses. And he has no concern for my satisfaction in love making. I'm ready to tear my hair out, it's so frustrating. He's all done and satisfied himself, and I'm left hanging."
"This is not a complicated case," says Mistress Zara, "he is just a very selfish and immature man. He thinks only of his own needs, and has to learn to take your needs and desires into account."
"Yes," says Mistress Kassandra, "all of his misbehavior amounts to different forms of selfishness. He does what he wants, and has no regard for my desires and needs."
Mistress Zara continues, "It is going to take quite some time to train him away from these behaviors. I'm not willing to undertake it unless you both are willing to make the long term commitment to carry through with the full course of treatment. I mean both the financial commitment and the time commitment."
She looks directly at me. "Are you willing to make that commitment?"
"Yes," I say, "I will do anything to stay with Kassandra. I have already arranged to be away from work, told them that I need a leave of absence for at least several weeks."
"Good," says Mistress Zara, reaching for some papers. "Now just sign these. They authorize your bank to pay for these treatments, and commit you to my care until I judge that your therapy is complete."
"You have to do this, honey," says Mistress Kassandra, smiling at me, "it's the only way we can be together forever."
Smiling back at her, I sign the papers without really reading them. Mistress Zara puts them away. Something about the way that the two women are grinning at each other should make me nervous, but my character doesn't notice.
Scene Two
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"My methods fall under the category of aversion therapy," says Mistress Zara. "The patient learns to associate the behavior to be unlearned with unpleasant consequences. First, you will have to perform the behavior. Go sit at her feet."
I sit on the floor at Mistress Kassandra's lovely size 9 feet.
"Remove her sandals," orders Mistress Zara.
I do so, very reverently.
"Tickle her soles, just once each, the whole length of the sole."
I run my index finger along Mistress Kassandra's right sole, very slowly, from the back of her heel to the tip of her middle toe. She shrieks with laughter and wriggles her toes. I do the same with her left sole, and her reaction is the same.
"I hate it, I can't stand to be tickled there, I'm way too ticklish," she says.
"That's not the way he usually does it, is it?"
"No, usually he's like a madman, using all ten fingers until I go completely crazy."
"Now," says Mistress Zara to me, "I'm going to ask you to remove all of your clothing, and lie down on that medical table."
Actually, it is a bondage table, but I follow her instructions, stripping naked, and lying on my back on the table.
"The unpleasant consequence will be suited to the bad behavior," she says. "We will now strap him down to the table, and tickle him without mercy."
"We?" asks Mistress Kassandra, "I get to participate?"
"Oh yes," says Mistress Zara, "that is a major part of the treatment in couples therapy, that the partner participates in the retraining, so you can continue to do it at home after the treatment is over."
"Oh, I'm going to love this part of the therapy," says Mistress Kassandra, with genuine glee in her voice. "But I'm much more ticklish than he is. To be fair, he has to be tickled longer than I was."
"Oh, certainly," says Mistress Zara. "This first tickle torture session will be for 30 minutes. And be assured that he will never tickle your lovely feet again. Future sessions will be even longer, to insure that he never forgets his lesson, that he should not have tickled your feet, after you told him that you didn't like it."
The two of them proceed to put padded leather cuffs on my ankles, and leather mitts over my hands, fastened at the wrists. My legs are stretched wide apart, with my ankle cuffs clipped to the bottom corners of the table. My arms are stretched apart and raised, with the mitts clipped part way up the sturdy posts at the top corners of the table, using D-rings at the wrist of each mitt. A collar is buckled around my neck, and loosely secured via its D-rings in two directions.
Mistress Kassandra comes over to me, and looks deep into my eyes.
"Now you'll find out what it's like to be tickled, honey. I'm really going to enjoy doing this. Remember, it's for your own good, it's to help us stay together."
They both start on my ribs, one on each side of the table. I shriek at the first touch, their strong fingers digging in to my rib cage. As I laugh and laugh, Mistress Kassandra gloats.
"I never knew if he was ticklish, he never let me find out. This is so much fun. Tickle, tickle, tickle, honey. This is for your own good, tickle, tickle. How do you like it, being on the receiving end, darling? Tickle, tickle, tickle. You don't seem to be enjoying yourself, like you did when you tickled me. Tickle, tickle, tickle, and tickle even more. Hah, this is wonderful."
Mistress Zara moves down to the foot of the bondage table, and begins to scrape her fingernails on the sole of my right foot. I howl and strain at my bonds, uselessly.
"You can't get away," she says, as she rakes my sole with her nails. "For even trying to get away from my fingers, I might just restart the clock. So you will learn to behave and
lie still for your treatment."
Mistress Kassandra looks at her watch and says "It's too hard to keep track of the odd minutes, let's just round off and tickle him until half past the hour. That's only three minutes extra, how bad could that be?"
"Fine," says Mistress Zara, as she moves to my left foot, still endlessly raking her nails the length of the sole.
Mistress Kassandra has moved up to my armpits, and prods just the right spot in each, quite firmly.
"How long do you think he'll need this aversion therapy?" she asks.
"At least 6 to 8 weeks," say Mistress Zara, "with three tickle torture sessions every day, morning, afternoon, and evening."
"I'll be here every weekend to participate," says Mistress Kassandra as she continues to poke deep into my armpits, "but you'll be doing it alone during the week."
"Oh, no, I'll have assistants, young women who are expert ticklers to help me. He has already signed the papers agreeing to pay for the treatments as I see fit, so he'll be paying for the assistants."
"How long with the sessions be?"
"Two hours each," says Mistress Zara.
"Only two?" asks Mistress Kassandra, "Only six hours a day total? No, that's not enough to teach him he never should have tickled my feet. As long as you're hiring assistants, couldn't it be more?"
She looks deep into my eyes again, still tickling me under the arms, and says, "It's for your own good, honey, to help you learn not to tickle my feet."
"Certainly," says Mistress Zara, "it can be more. Let's say four hours for each session, so he spends 12 hours a day as a helpless lump of ticklish flesh, utterly at the mercy of women who tickle him endlessly. Yes, and he is so selfish and so immature, that my estimate of 6 to 8 weeks is clearly inadequate. Perhaps 6 months would be enough."
Mistress Kassandra begins to tickle my collarbones, and is delighted that I am extremely ticklish there. As I laugh and laugh, she once again looks into my eyes and gloats.
"As I'm at work in the city on weekdays, a part of my mind will be here upstate with you, thinking about how you're getting 12 full hours of tickle torture, day after day. Remember that it's to help you, to teach you that you were wrong to tickle my feet, against my wishes. Tickle, tickle, tickle, honey. It's what you need to help you learn. And you're going to get it, for at least 6 months. Tickle, tickle, tickle. As you suffer, as you gasp for breath, I want to think of my feet, that you love so much, my exquisite feet, and that you're being taught to respect my wishes and not tickle them. Tickle, tickle, tickle, and more tickling, that's what you'll get."
Still barefoot, Mistress Kassandra jumps up on the bondage table, and climbs up on the horizontal bar over the table. She extends one of her long, perfect legs down, and begins to tickle my armpit again by poking it with her big toe.
"This is so appropriate," says Mistress Kassandra, "I'm tickling him with my foot, the very part of my body that he abused by tickling."
Mistress Zara grins at her. She has taken some implements from the bag of toys, and is now tickling my soles with an electric toothbrush. I squirm and laugh, helpless, as they both tickle and tickle.
Mistress Kassandra changes legs, tickling under my arm with her other big toe, as Mistress Zara tickles my thighs and hips with both the electric toothbrush and her fingers. I laugh helplessly, beginning to be exhausted. Mistress Zara sees that I am barely able to breathe, and they both stop tickling me. Mistress Kassandra climbs down and gets a bottle of water.
"Have a sip of water, dear," she says to me, pouring the water into my mouth.
"Yes," says Mistress Zara, "the treatment will do no good if he is unconscious. We'll give him just enough of a break to keep him conscious, to learn the error of his ways."
She hands Mistress Kassandra two ordinary toothbrushes, and suggests that they would be fine implements for my armpits.
The break over, Mistress Zara returns to my feet, going back to using her fingernails, and Mistress Kassandra straddles me, sitting on my chest, and tickles both armpits with the toothbrushes. I howl and shriek. Once again, I can't stop laughing.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle, honey. Just think, darling, tomorrow your treatment begins in earnest, with 12 hours a day of tickle torture, just like this. All to help you be a better boyfriend and potential husband for me. Tickle, tickle, tickle. All to help you learn to respect me. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Isn't it fortunate that you're rich enough to pay for all this treatment? Tickle, tickle, tickle. Zara and I will evaluate your progress in 6 months, and decide if you need more instruction. Tickle, tickle, tickle, my dear. How do you like it? Tickle, tickle, tickle. Not as much fun as you had tickling me, is it? Tickle, tickle, tickle."
She loosens my collar, leaving it on. There is now room for her to get her fingers inside it, and she tickles my neck. I laugh and laugh as her fingers delicately explore all the sensitive skin around my neck.
The women now change places. Mistress Zara kicks off her sandals, jumps up on the table, and straddles my chest, tickling my underarms and collarbones, as Mistress Kassandra uses the electric toothbrush on my feet. I laugh uncontrollably, as they enjoy themselves.
I feel close to exhaustion again, as I see Mistress Kassandra look at her watch, and she stops tickling me. Mistress Zara confirms that the time is up, and also stops. They leave me bound to the table.
I am asked to promise never to tickle my fiancée's feet again, and I agree wholeheartedly. Mistress Kassandra seems skeptical, and says that she hopes that six months of tickle torture will make me sincere about that. Mistress Zara promises that my therapy won't end until she is fully convinced that I am repentant and reformed.
Scene Three
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"Now it is time to deal with your foul language problem," say Mistress Zara. "What phrases does he use?" she asks Mistress Kassandra.
"Oh, I wouldn't repeat them," says Mistress Kassandra, "but he's both obscene and blasphemous."
"Go ahead, pretend your team just lost in the 9th inning, say something typical," says Mistress Zara.
"Sh**! God damn it to f***ing hell," I say.
"My method for dealing with this, still aversion therapy, is rather old-fashioned," says Mistress Zara.
She produces a brand new bar of soap. It is bright blue, and scented. She moistens it in a glass of water. She orders me to open wide, and inserts the bar into my mouth. About half the bar is inside my mouth, and it tastes awful, in spite of its fine scent.
She sits on the bondage table, and uses the sole of her bare foot to push on the soap, until it is 3/4 inside my mouth, almost choking me. She laughs at the expression on my face, as Mistress Kassandra slowly counts to thirty. Her lovely foot, size 7, keeps up the pressure on the bar of soap.
"Now you hold it in his mouth," says Mistress Zara.
Mistress Kassandra takes her place, and uses her bare sole to make sure the soap is securely pressed into my mouth. Mistress Zara slowly counts to thirty.
The soap is removed, and Mistress Zara notes that I will have this aversion therapy three times a day also, for the duration of my treatment.
"May I please have a drink of water?" I ask, with an awful taste in my mouth.
Mistress Kassandra gasps. "Are you going to let him get away with that?"
"Certainly not!" says Mistress Zara. "Giving me orders? Have you learned nothing? I am in charge of this therapy, and you'll get water only when I say so. You will never speak during therapy except in response to a direct question. Now, you're going to be punished for your misbehavior."
They untie me from the table, leaving on my ankle cuffs and collar, but removing the mitts. I am ordered to bend over the table, my bare buttocks presented to them for spanking. I am ordered to observe my spanking in the mirror on the wall. I am ordered to count out loud each fifth smack, and promised 100 smacks from Mistress Zara.
She begins, using her bare hand.
"Five."
"Ow. Ten"
When I call out "twenty-five," Mistress Zara says that she never heard me say twenty. Mistress Kassandra confirms that she didn't hear it either.
"In that case, we'll begin all over again. Your counting must be loud and clear."
"Five!" I now say in a loud voice.
When I get to 25 again, she switches to a wooden spatula, which hurts more.
"Oww, oww, 30."
"35."
When I get to 60, she is hitting so hard that I say "Lavender!" my safe word.
"There is no 'lavender', you're going to get the full hundred from me, and another hundred from Kassandra."
But she does go back to using her bare hand, and hitting less hard.
"95."
"100."
She keeps on spanking, testing me to see if I will protest that she has gone over the promised number. I wisely say nothing, until I must say, "105" as ordered.
"Now it's your turn," she says.
"Oh, boy, I've always wanted to do this to him. He's such a spoiled brat," says Mistress Kassandra. There is again a gleam of genuine delight in her eyes. She loves to spank.
She switches to the spatula, too, and my bottom is very red and sore.
"Oww! 65."
"Oww1 70."
I don't bother to try the safeword again, but she knows when to let up and slap me with her bare palm. She also goes up to 105, happy that I have learned to take the extras without protest.
"Now," says Mistress Zara, "I don't believe that he's been spanked enough. Let's both spank him at the same time. Pick which cheek you want."
"Oh, goody," says Mistress Kassandra, "how many spanks?"
"To our hearts' content, until we get tired of it," says Mistress Zara.
"Don't bother to count, it's for as long as we like," she adds, to me.
They both use their bare hands, but spank hard and rapidly, over and over again, smacking both cheeks at the same time. It goes on and on, and all I can do is say "Oww!" when they hit particularly hard.
Finally, they are content, and laugh at how red my buttocks are. They have probably given me about 150 more spanks each.
"This will be added as part of the aversion therapy for his foul language, three times a day, after washing his mouth out with soap," says Mistress Zara. "When you're back in NY City, why don't you stop by one of those adult novelty stores, Kassandra. You should really buy some stricter implements to use on him."
"Really? Spanking him was so much fun, I will definitely look forward to doing it here every weekend."
"Yes, and since it's part of his therapy, I'll be reimbursing you for the implements with his money. You should buy a variety of riding crops, floggers, canes, and a tawse. Just amuse yourself and get one of everything in one of those stores."
"I'll do just that. And it is amusing that he'll be paying for the implements that I'll use to beat his bottom black and blue."
As they laugh, Mistress Kassandra pats my bottom gently, and adds, "It's all for your own good, darling, to instruct you to respect me properly, and never use foul language in my presence again."
"Now," says Mistress Zara, "the time has come to do something that insures he never forgets his first spanking. We're going to put our initials on his bottom, a Z on one cheek for me, and a K on the other for you, using hot wax."
A protective pad is placed on the bondage table, and I am ordered to lie on my stomach on it, and to hold still. With a lit candle, Mistress Zara slowly and carefully writes a 'Z' in dripping wax on my left buttock. I have had hot wax before, but this somehow hurts much more than I remember. I scream, and involuntarily lurch. This ruins the letter, and she wipes some of it off, and then completes it correctly, warning me not to move again.
Mistress Kassandra now climbs up on the table, and holds me down firmly with her legs so I won't move again. She writes her 'K', slowly and carefully, on my right buttock. I scream loudly, again.
They admire their work, and remark that it is a good thing that there are no neighbors nearby, as I've been screaming so much.
"Does this have to be just for his first spanking?" asks Mistress Kassandra. "Can't this be done to him every day?"
"It's my professional judgmentthat he needs this three times a day, as part of his therapy," says Mistress Zara, and they both laugh.
Scene Four
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"Now, it's time to deal with the third problem, and begin his training in self control," says Mistress Zara.
They have me lie down on the floor, with my head near the front legs of a chair. My ankles cuffs are now clipped together, and padded cuffs are fastened around my wrists. These cuffs are now clipped to the D-rings in my collar, so that I am denied the use of my arms and hands.
"I want you to sit in that chair," says Mistress Zara, "and dangle the soles of your bare feet right over his nose. Make sure he sees your lovely soles close up, and wriggle your toes at him, but never touch him. I'm going to be stroking his groin with this soft brush, just enough to keep him very excited, but never eenougho bring him to a climax."
Sitting in the chair and doing so, Kassandra is delighted.
"What a fine way to torture and tease you. That will teach you to leave me frustrated. Do you see my beautiful, beautiful soles? All you can do is long for them. You'll never be allowed to touch them again. Are you frustrated? Too bad, it's what you need to train you, honey."
After a few minutes, Mistress Zara suggests that they change places. She sits in the chair, and her lovely soles and flexed and wrinkled above my nose, almost but not quite touching me. Mistress Kassandra strokes me with the brush, just enough to heighten my frustration.
"I think it's time to tell him the truth," says Mistress Zara. "He's in secure bondage, and he's going to stay that way. He may as well know the real situation now."
Mistress Kassandra stops stroking me, and puts her bare feet up, with the soles right next to my face also. Four lovely bare soles are right in front of my face, toes sometimes wriggling, as she tells me what has really happened.
"You thought that I just met Zara today, as you did. Actually, she was my roommate for the last two years of college. We've been great friends for years."
The women laugh, and waggle their feet right in front of nose.
"She really is a psychologist, but she has never done couples therapy. She hates her job at the local high school, and has always wanted to write books. So that's what she is going to do now. The paper that you signed gives her the right to charge you for therapy, up to 40 hours a week, and the money will be transferred from your own bank account directly to her bank. You'll be paying for the assistants she hires to torture you, and she'll be earning more money than ever. She'll have time to write. Meanwhile, back in the city, I'll move into your beautiful condo overlooking Central Park. The staff there know me as your fiancée, and they'll ask no questions. You already own it outright, and have your monthly maintenance and tax bills paid automatically. So I expect to be living the good life there. I will come here every weekend, to enjoy myself torturing you. And during the week, I will think of you being tormented here, and smile at the thought. What was that chastity device you mentioned, Zara? The CB2000?"
"Actually" says Mistress Zara, "there is a newer model, the CB3000. Essentially it's a plastic cage to enclose his penis and testicles, and and make full erection impossible. It makes partial erection painful, very much so if you put in the optional ring with plastic spikes."
"Oh," says Mistress Kassandra, "we definitely want to use that spiked ring. And he is never to have another orgasm, for the rest of his life."
"Certainly not," says Mistress Zara, "he'll be kept in the CB3000 except when under our personal supervision, when he's always in bondage. He'll be kept as chaste as a nun. Since the papers he signed commit him to my care as long as I deem necessary, it's only fair to tell him that his therapy will never be finished. I will always deem it necessary to continue treatment, forever."
Mistress Kassandra sticks her bare soles even closer to my face, perhaps an eighth of an inch from my eyes, and delivers the final lines of the roleplay.
"So we will have a permanent relationship, for the rest of our lives, dear. It is just a bit different from the relationship that you expected, though. I will definitely enjoy tormenting you, forever."
Epilogue
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"Wonderful roleplay," I say, still in bondage with four lovely bare feet in front of my face.
"It was fun," says Mistress Kassandra.
"It was one of your best scripts," says Mistress Zara.
The roleplay was too dark to include a reward segment, which we will do now that it is over. They remove my ankle cuffs, collar, and wrist cuffs. They sit on a couch, and I sit at their feet.
I massage Mistress Zara's right foot, until she tells me to switch to the left. I massage until she is satisfied.
"I most humbly beg for permission to lick your feet," I say.
"You may roll five dice," she replies.
I get a dreadful roll, 1, 4, 2, 3, 1, for a total of 11. I accidentally-on-purpose nudge the last die from 1 to 5 with my pinky, and announce, "Total of 15."
Mistress Zara sees this, but is amused and not angry.
"You may begin," she says.
I slowly and lovingly lick her right sole 15 times, and then kiss the ball of her foot.
"May I please lick the other foot?" I ask.
"You may," she says, with a regal tone.
I lick her left sole, heel to toes, 15 times also, slowly.
I move over to Mistress Kassandra's feet.
"I most humbly beg for permission to lick your feet," I say.
"Not yet," she says, "you must earn it by a massage."
I massage both of her feet, and she remarks to Mistress Zara that I have gotten quite good at this service.
She tells me that I may begin, and I lick her left sole, very reverently, 15 times.
"May I please lick your other foot?" I ask.
"Go ahead, and make sure you do it slowly and savor every lick," she says.
I do the 15 licks on her right sole even more slowly, and kiss the ball of her foot when I am finished.
"Thank you both ever so much," I say.
I have bought each of them a book as a present, and I give them the books. They hug me, and we say good bye. It will be two weeks until I see my beloved Mistress Zara again, and several months before our next joint roleplay with Mistress Kassandra.
-the end-
This story contains extreme F/m tickle torture, spanking, domination, and some adult material. If any of that might offend you, then don't read it. All three characters in the story are over the age of 21.
Added April 26, 2005: This story is the winner of the 2004 Golden Feather Award for the best nonfiction story of the year here. I wish to thank Mistress Zara and Mistress Kassandra for making this possible.
Couples Therapy (FF/m)
by Milagros317
I have been looking forward to this roleplay for months. I will play the part of a man who has just been dumped by his fiancée, and begged her for another chance. Mistress Kassandra will play the part of my fiancée, who has said that the only chance of saving our relationship is to go to a specialist in couples therapy, who lives and practices psychology in a rural area of upstate New York. Mistress Zara will play the part of this psychologist.
Scene One
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I enter the dungeon room fully dressed, and Mistress Zara is waiting for me. She is wearing her glasses instead of her contacts, to look older and more professional. She is incredibly beautiful, with lustrous red hair and green eyes. She asks if I had any trouble finding her house, isolated as it is with the nearest neighbor a mile away. I reply that I took a taxi from the train station. She has me sit down.
"I understand that your fiancée will be joining us soon," she says.
"Yes," I say, "she has my car today, and is driving up here. But it's not clear that she is still my fiancée. That's why we've come to you. She has given me one last chance to change my behavior to save our relationship."
Mistress Zara explains that she specializes in saving relationships, by the use of unconventional methods of therapy. She says that I must feel relaxed and unencumbered, and has me remove all objects from my pockets, my belt, my shoes, and my watch.
"I must know exactly what the problems are between you and your fiancée," she adds, "so tell me, from your point of view, what is wrong."
"Well," I answer, "it is not a problem of communication. Kassandra has three chief complaints about my behavior, and they are all true."
"You admit it, that they're all true? That's very good, we can begin with treatment today, we won't have to clear up any communications problem or deal with your denial. What are the complaints?"
"First, she is angry that I am always tickling her feet, even though she has told me that she hates it, and I shouldn't do it. Second, she is upset that I often use foul language. Third, this is embarrassing, she is very unhappy that I suffer from premature ejaculation, and I'm always done before she is satisfied."
At this point, Mistress Kassandra enters the room, looking fabulous in a white dress, with her long black hair gleaming, and a happy look in her dark brown eyes. She is wearing strappy sandals, as is Mistress Zara.
Mistress Zara introduces herself and welcomes her, and then notes that we have already begun. She repeats the three complaints.
"Yes, that's exactly what must be corrected if our relationship is to have any future," says Mistress Kassandra. "He is always after my feet, and I can't stand to be tickled there. He has a potty mouth. You wouldn't believe what vile things he says when he's watching TV and his baseball team loses. And he has no concern for my satisfaction in love making. I'm ready to tear my hair out, it's so frustrating. He's all done and satisfied himself, and I'm left hanging."
"This is not a complicated case," says Mistress Zara, "he is just a very selfish and immature man. He thinks only of his own needs, and has to learn to take your needs and desires into account."
"Yes," says Mistress Kassandra, "all of his misbehavior amounts to different forms of selfishness. He does what he wants, and has no regard for my desires and needs."
Mistress Zara continues, "It is going to take quite some time to train him away from these behaviors. I'm not willing to undertake it unless you both are willing to make the long term commitment to carry through with the full course of treatment. I mean both the financial commitment and the time commitment."
She looks directly at me. "Are you willing to make that commitment?"
"Yes," I say, "I will do anything to stay with Kassandra. I have already arranged to be away from work, told them that I need a leave of absence for at least several weeks."
"Good," says Mistress Zara, reaching for some papers. "Now just sign these. They authorize your bank to pay for these treatments, and commit you to my care until I judge that your therapy is complete."
"You have to do this, honey," says Mistress Kassandra, smiling at me, "it's the only way we can be together forever."
Smiling back at her, I sign the papers without really reading them. Mistress Zara puts them away. Something about the way that the two women are grinning at each other should make me nervous, but my character doesn't notice.
Scene Two
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"My methods fall under the category of aversion therapy," says Mistress Zara. "The patient learns to associate the behavior to be unlearned with unpleasant consequences. First, you will have to perform the behavior. Go sit at her feet."
I sit on the floor at Mistress Kassandra's lovely size 9 feet.
"Remove her sandals," orders Mistress Zara.
I do so, very reverently.
"Tickle her soles, just once each, the whole length of the sole."
I run my index finger along Mistress Kassandra's right sole, very slowly, from the back of her heel to the tip of her middle toe. She shrieks with laughter and wriggles her toes. I do the same with her left sole, and her reaction is the same.
"I hate it, I can't stand to be tickled there, I'm way too ticklish," she says.
"That's not the way he usually does it, is it?"
"No, usually he's like a madman, using all ten fingers until I go completely crazy."
"Now," says Mistress Zara to me, "I'm going to ask you to remove all of your clothing, and lie down on that medical table."
Actually, it is a bondage table, but I follow her instructions, stripping naked, and lying on my back on the table.
"The unpleasant consequence will be suited to the bad behavior," she says. "We will now strap him down to the table, and tickle him without mercy."
"We?" asks Mistress Kassandra, "I get to participate?"
"Oh yes," says Mistress Zara, "that is a major part of the treatment in couples therapy, that the partner participates in the retraining, so you can continue to do it at home after the treatment is over."
"Oh, I'm going to love this part of the therapy," says Mistress Kassandra, with genuine glee in her voice. "But I'm much more ticklish than he is. To be fair, he has to be tickled longer than I was."
"Oh, certainly," says Mistress Zara. "This first tickle torture session will be for 30 minutes. And be assured that he will never tickle your lovely feet again. Future sessions will be even longer, to insure that he never forgets his lesson, that he should not have tickled your feet, after you told him that you didn't like it."
The two of them proceed to put padded leather cuffs on my ankles, and leather mitts over my hands, fastened at the wrists. My legs are stretched wide apart, with my ankle cuffs clipped to the bottom corners of the table. My arms are stretched apart and raised, with the mitts clipped part way up the sturdy posts at the top corners of the table, using D-rings at the wrist of each mitt. A collar is buckled around my neck, and loosely secured via its D-rings in two directions.
Mistress Kassandra comes over to me, and looks deep into my eyes.
"Now you'll find out what it's like to be tickled, honey. I'm really going to enjoy doing this. Remember, it's for your own good, it's to help us stay together."
They both start on my ribs, one on each side of the table. I shriek at the first touch, their strong fingers digging in to my rib cage. As I laugh and laugh, Mistress Kassandra gloats.
"I never knew if he was ticklish, he never let me find out. This is so much fun. Tickle, tickle, tickle, honey. This is for your own good, tickle, tickle. How do you like it, being on the receiving end, darling? Tickle, tickle, tickle. You don't seem to be enjoying yourself, like you did when you tickled me. Tickle, tickle, tickle, and tickle even more. Hah, this is wonderful."
Mistress Zara moves down to the foot of the bondage table, and begins to scrape her fingernails on the sole of my right foot. I howl and strain at my bonds, uselessly.
"You can't get away," she says, as she rakes my sole with her nails. "For even trying to get away from my fingers, I might just restart the clock. So you will learn to behave and
lie still for your treatment."
Mistress Kassandra looks at her watch and says "It's too hard to keep track of the odd minutes, let's just round off and tickle him until half past the hour. That's only three minutes extra, how bad could that be?"
"Fine," says Mistress Zara, as she moves to my left foot, still endlessly raking her nails the length of the sole.
Mistress Kassandra has moved up to my armpits, and prods just the right spot in each, quite firmly.
"How long do you think he'll need this aversion therapy?" she asks.
"At least 6 to 8 weeks," say Mistress Zara, "with three tickle torture sessions every day, morning, afternoon, and evening."
"I'll be here every weekend to participate," says Mistress Kassandra as she continues to poke deep into my armpits, "but you'll be doing it alone during the week."
"Oh, no, I'll have assistants, young women who are expert ticklers to help me. He has already signed the papers agreeing to pay for the treatments as I see fit, so he'll be paying for the assistants."
"How long with the sessions be?"
"Two hours each," says Mistress Zara.
"Only two?" asks Mistress Kassandra, "Only six hours a day total? No, that's not enough to teach him he never should have tickled my feet. As long as you're hiring assistants, couldn't it be more?"
She looks deep into my eyes again, still tickling me under the arms, and says, "It's for your own good, honey, to help you learn not to tickle my feet."
"Certainly," says Mistress Zara, "it can be more. Let's say four hours for each session, so he spends 12 hours a day as a helpless lump of ticklish flesh, utterly at the mercy of women who tickle him endlessly. Yes, and he is so selfish and so immature, that my estimate of 6 to 8 weeks is clearly inadequate. Perhaps 6 months would be enough."
Mistress Kassandra begins to tickle my collarbones, and is delighted that I am extremely ticklish there. As I laugh and laugh, she once again looks into my eyes and gloats.
"As I'm at work in the city on weekdays, a part of my mind will be here upstate with you, thinking about how you're getting 12 full hours of tickle torture, day after day. Remember that it's to help you, to teach you that you were wrong to tickle my feet, against my wishes. Tickle, tickle, tickle, honey. It's what you need to help you learn. And you're going to get it, for at least 6 months. Tickle, tickle, tickle. As you suffer, as you gasp for breath, I want to think of my feet, that you love so much, my exquisite feet, and that you're being taught to respect my wishes and not tickle them. Tickle, tickle, tickle, and more tickling, that's what you'll get."
Still barefoot, Mistress Kassandra jumps up on the bondage table, and climbs up on the horizontal bar over the table. She extends one of her long, perfect legs down, and begins to tickle my armpit again by poking it with her big toe.
"This is so appropriate," says Mistress Kassandra, "I'm tickling him with my foot, the very part of my body that he abused by tickling."
Mistress Zara grins at her. She has taken some implements from the bag of toys, and is now tickling my soles with an electric toothbrush. I squirm and laugh, helpless, as they both tickle and tickle.
Mistress Kassandra changes legs, tickling under my arm with her other big toe, as Mistress Zara tickles my thighs and hips with both the electric toothbrush and her fingers. I laugh helplessly, beginning to be exhausted. Mistress Zara sees that I am barely able to breathe, and they both stop tickling me. Mistress Kassandra climbs down and gets a bottle of water.
"Have a sip of water, dear," she says to me, pouring the water into my mouth.
"Yes," says Mistress Zara, "the treatment will do no good if he is unconscious. We'll give him just enough of a break to keep him conscious, to learn the error of his ways."
She hands Mistress Kassandra two ordinary toothbrushes, and suggests that they would be fine implements for my armpits.
The break over, Mistress Zara returns to my feet, going back to using her fingernails, and Mistress Kassandra straddles me, sitting on my chest, and tickles both armpits with the toothbrushes. I howl and shriek. Once again, I can't stop laughing.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle, honey. Just think, darling, tomorrow your treatment begins in earnest, with 12 hours a day of tickle torture, just like this. All to help you be a better boyfriend and potential husband for me. Tickle, tickle, tickle. All to help you learn to respect me. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Isn't it fortunate that you're rich enough to pay for all this treatment? Tickle, tickle, tickle. Zara and I will evaluate your progress in 6 months, and decide if you need more instruction. Tickle, tickle, tickle, my dear. How do you like it? Tickle, tickle, tickle. Not as much fun as you had tickling me, is it? Tickle, tickle, tickle."
She loosens my collar, leaving it on. There is now room for her to get her fingers inside it, and she tickles my neck. I laugh and laugh as her fingers delicately explore all the sensitive skin around my neck.
The women now change places. Mistress Zara kicks off her sandals, jumps up on the table, and straddles my chest, tickling my underarms and collarbones, as Mistress Kassandra uses the electric toothbrush on my feet. I laugh uncontrollably, as they enjoy themselves.
I feel close to exhaustion again, as I see Mistress Kassandra look at her watch, and she stops tickling me. Mistress Zara confirms that the time is up, and also stops. They leave me bound to the table.
I am asked to promise never to tickle my fiancée's feet again, and I agree wholeheartedly. Mistress Kassandra seems skeptical, and says that she hopes that six months of tickle torture will make me sincere about that. Mistress Zara promises that my therapy won't end until she is fully convinced that I am repentant and reformed.
Scene Three
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"Now it is time to deal with your foul language problem," say Mistress Zara. "What phrases does he use?" she asks Mistress Kassandra.
"Oh, I wouldn't repeat them," says Mistress Kassandra, "but he's both obscene and blasphemous."
"Go ahead, pretend your team just lost in the 9th inning, say something typical," says Mistress Zara.
"Sh**! God damn it to f***ing hell," I say.
"My method for dealing with this, still aversion therapy, is rather old-fashioned," says Mistress Zara.
She produces a brand new bar of soap. It is bright blue, and scented. She moistens it in a glass of water. She orders me to open wide, and inserts the bar into my mouth. About half the bar is inside my mouth, and it tastes awful, in spite of its fine scent.
She sits on the bondage table, and uses the sole of her bare foot to push on the soap, until it is 3/4 inside my mouth, almost choking me. She laughs at the expression on my face, as Mistress Kassandra slowly counts to thirty. Her lovely foot, size 7, keeps up the pressure on the bar of soap.
"Now you hold it in his mouth," says Mistress Zara.
Mistress Kassandra takes her place, and uses her bare sole to make sure the soap is securely pressed into my mouth. Mistress Zara slowly counts to thirty.
The soap is removed, and Mistress Zara notes that I will have this aversion therapy three times a day also, for the duration of my treatment.
"May I please have a drink of water?" I ask, with an awful taste in my mouth.
Mistress Kassandra gasps. "Are you going to let him get away with that?"
"Certainly not!" says Mistress Zara. "Giving me orders? Have you learned nothing? I am in charge of this therapy, and you'll get water only when I say so. You will never speak during therapy except in response to a direct question. Now, you're going to be punished for your misbehavior."
They untie me from the table, leaving on my ankle cuffs and collar, but removing the mitts. I am ordered to bend over the table, my bare buttocks presented to them for spanking. I am ordered to observe my spanking in the mirror on the wall. I am ordered to count out loud each fifth smack, and promised 100 smacks from Mistress Zara.
She begins, using her bare hand.
"Five."
"Ow. Ten"
When I call out "twenty-five," Mistress Zara says that she never heard me say twenty. Mistress Kassandra confirms that she didn't hear it either.
"In that case, we'll begin all over again. Your counting must be loud and clear."
"Five!" I now say in a loud voice.
When I get to 25 again, she switches to a wooden spatula, which hurts more.
"Oww, oww, 30."
"35."
When I get to 60, she is hitting so hard that I say "Lavender!" my safe word.
"There is no 'lavender', you're going to get the full hundred from me, and another hundred from Kassandra."
But she does go back to using her bare hand, and hitting less hard.
"95."
"100."
She keeps on spanking, testing me to see if I will protest that she has gone over the promised number. I wisely say nothing, until I must say, "105" as ordered.
"Now it's your turn," she says.
"Oh, boy, I've always wanted to do this to him. He's such a spoiled brat," says Mistress Kassandra. There is again a gleam of genuine delight in her eyes. She loves to spank.
She switches to the spatula, too, and my bottom is very red and sore.
"Oww! 65."
"Oww1 70."
I don't bother to try the safeword again, but she knows when to let up and slap me with her bare palm. She also goes up to 105, happy that I have learned to take the extras without protest.
"Now," says Mistress Zara, "I don't believe that he's been spanked enough. Let's both spank him at the same time. Pick which cheek you want."
"Oh, goody," says Mistress Kassandra, "how many spanks?"
"To our hearts' content, until we get tired of it," says Mistress Zara.
"Don't bother to count, it's for as long as we like," she adds, to me.
They both use their bare hands, but spank hard and rapidly, over and over again, smacking both cheeks at the same time. It goes on and on, and all I can do is say "Oww!" when they hit particularly hard.
Finally, they are content, and laugh at how red my buttocks are. They have probably given me about 150 more spanks each.
"This will be added as part of the aversion therapy for his foul language, three times a day, after washing his mouth out with soap," says Mistress Zara. "When you're back in NY City, why don't you stop by one of those adult novelty stores, Kassandra. You should really buy some stricter implements to use on him."
"Really? Spanking him was so much fun, I will definitely look forward to doing it here every weekend."
"Yes, and since it's part of his therapy, I'll be reimbursing you for the implements with his money. You should buy a variety of riding crops, floggers, canes, and a tawse. Just amuse yourself and get one of everything in one of those stores."
"I'll do just that. And it is amusing that he'll be paying for the implements that I'll use to beat his bottom black and blue."
As they laugh, Mistress Kassandra pats my bottom gently, and adds, "It's all for your own good, darling, to instruct you to respect me properly, and never use foul language in my presence again."
"Now," says Mistress Zara, "the time has come to do something that insures he never forgets his first spanking. We're going to put our initials on his bottom, a Z on one cheek for me, and a K on the other for you, using hot wax."
A protective pad is placed on the bondage table, and I am ordered to lie on my stomach on it, and to hold still. With a lit candle, Mistress Zara slowly and carefully writes a 'Z' in dripping wax on my left buttock. I have had hot wax before, but this somehow hurts much more than I remember. I scream, and involuntarily lurch. This ruins the letter, and she wipes some of it off, and then completes it correctly, warning me not to move again.
Mistress Kassandra now climbs up on the table, and holds me down firmly with her legs so I won't move again. She writes her 'K', slowly and carefully, on my right buttock. I scream loudly, again.
They admire their work, and remark that it is a good thing that there are no neighbors nearby, as I've been screaming so much.
"Does this have to be just for his first spanking?" asks Mistress Kassandra. "Can't this be done to him every day?"
"It's my professional judgmentthat he needs this three times a day, as part of his therapy," says Mistress Zara, and they both laugh.
Scene Four
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"Now, it's time to deal with the third problem, and begin his training in self control," says Mistress Zara.
They have me lie down on the floor, with my head near the front legs of a chair. My ankles cuffs are now clipped together, and padded cuffs are fastened around my wrists. These cuffs are now clipped to the D-rings in my collar, so that I am denied the use of my arms and hands.
"I want you to sit in that chair," says Mistress Zara, "and dangle the soles of your bare feet right over his nose. Make sure he sees your lovely soles close up, and wriggle your toes at him, but never touch him. I'm going to be stroking his groin with this soft brush, just enough to keep him very excited, but never eenougho bring him to a climax."
Sitting in the chair and doing so, Kassandra is delighted.
"What a fine way to torture and tease you. That will teach you to leave me frustrated. Do you see my beautiful, beautiful soles? All you can do is long for them. You'll never be allowed to touch them again. Are you frustrated? Too bad, it's what you need to train you, honey."
After a few minutes, Mistress Zara suggests that they change places. She sits in the chair, and her lovely soles and flexed and wrinkled above my nose, almost but not quite touching me. Mistress Kassandra strokes me with the brush, just enough to heighten my frustration.
"I think it's time to tell him the truth," says Mistress Zara. "He's in secure bondage, and he's going to stay that way. He may as well know the real situation now."
Mistress Kassandra stops stroking me, and puts her bare feet up, with the soles right next to my face also. Four lovely bare soles are right in front of my face, toes sometimes wriggling, as she tells me what has really happened.
"You thought that I just met Zara today, as you did. Actually, she was my roommate for the last two years of college. We've been great friends for years."
The women laugh, and waggle their feet right in front of nose.
"She really is a psychologist, but she has never done couples therapy. She hates her job at the local high school, and has always wanted to write books. So that's what she is going to do now. The paper that you signed gives her the right to charge you for therapy, up to 40 hours a week, and the money will be transferred from your own bank account directly to her bank. You'll be paying for the assistants she hires to torture you, and she'll be earning more money than ever. She'll have time to write. Meanwhile, back in the city, I'll move into your beautiful condo overlooking Central Park. The staff there know me as your fiancée, and they'll ask no questions. You already own it outright, and have your monthly maintenance and tax bills paid automatically. So I expect to be living the good life there. I will come here every weekend, to enjoy myself torturing you. And during the week, I will think of you being tormented here, and smile at the thought. What was that chastity device you mentioned, Zara? The CB2000?"
"Actually" says Mistress Zara, "there is a newer model, the CB3000. Essentially it's a plastic cage to enclose his penis and testicles, and and make full erection impossible. It makes partial erection painful, very much so if you put in the optional ring with plastic spikes."
"Oh," says Mistress Kassandra, "we definitely want to use that spiked ring. And he is never to have another orgasm, for the rest of his life."
"Certainly not," says Mistress Zara, "he'll be kept in the CB3000 except when under our personal supervision, when he's always in bondage. He'll be kept as chaste as a nun. Since the papers he signed commit him to my care as long as I deem necessary, it's only fair to tell him that his therapy will never be finished. I will always deem it necessary to continue treatment, forever."
Mistress Kassandra sticks her bare soles even closer to my face, perhaps an eighth of an inch from my eyes, and delivers the final lines of the roleplay.
"So we will have a permanent relationship, for the rest of our lives, dear. It is just a bit different from the relationship that you expected, though. I will definitely enjoy tormenting you, forever."
Epilogue
----------
"Wonderful roleplay," I say, still in bondage with four lovely bare feet in front of my face.
"It was fun," says Mistress Kassandra.
"It was one of your best scripts," says Mistress Zara.
The roleplay was too dark to include a reward segment, which we will do now that it is over. They remove my ankle cuffs, collar, and wrist cuffs. They sit on a couch, and I sit at their feet.
I massage Mistress Zara's right foot, until she tells me to switch to the left. I massage until she is satisfied.
"I most humbly beg for permission to lick your feet," I say.
"You may roll five dice," she replies.
I get a dreadful roll, 1, 4, 2, 3, 1, for a total of 11. I accidentally-on-purpose nudge the last die from 1 to 5 with my pinky, and announce, "Total of 15."
Mistress Zara sees this, but is amused and not angry.
"You may begin," she says.
I slowly and lovingly lick her right sole 15 times, and then kiss the ball of her foot.
"May I please lick the other foot?" I ask.
"You may," she says, with a regal tone.
I lick her left sole, heel to toes, 15 times also, slowly.
I move over to Mistress Kassandra's feet.
"I most humbly beg for permission to lick your feet," I say.
"Not yet," she says, "you must earn it by a massage."
I massage both of her feet, and she remarks to Mistress Zara that I have gotten quite good at this service.
She tells me that I may begin, and I lick her left sole, very reverently, 15 times.
"May I please lick your other foot?" I ask.
"Go ahead, and make sure you do it slowly and savor every lick," she says.
I do the 15 licks on her right sole even more slowly, and kiss the ball of her foot when I am finished.
"Thank you both ever so much," I say.
I have bought each of them a book as a present, and I give them the books. They hug me, and we say good bye. It will be two weeks until I see my beloved Mistress Zara again, and several months before our next joint roleplay with Mistress Kassandra.
-the end-
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