The Threshold part four
It became hard to imagine how anything could be worse.
Fingers I could now identify as my mistress- long, cool skin, short nails- probed and stroked me starting with my back. I am sensitive all over, and the effect of exercise has given me a reasonable body. I would never consider myself a body builder, or muscular to any great degree- though my last girlfriend disagreed and found plenty to enjoy about my form- yet I possess the advantage of gender when developing muscular form over the years.
Like all men, I can develop large areas of muscle. My Latissimus Dorsi- the large, flat plates of muscle that run up either side of the lower back- are reasonably well developed. My shoulders are large and powerful, my arms defined, and my scapula clad in a reasonable form when I tense them.
My posterior- I’ve always thought the word ‘Bum’ was silly- has always been muscular from years of cycling and running. My thighs and calves very strong with muscle tone.
I had always been considered athletic, rather than muscular or thin. A reasonable body, with reasonable muscle structure.
And now that was all about to work against me.
My sensitivity is my physical weakness. The lightest of touch on my large muscular groups sends a feeling through me that is both intensely pleasurable, and highly ticklish at the same time.
First the cold fire spreads through my nervous system- I want to pull away, I want to jerk and buck at the feeling, yet all the pleasure spreads through my body, releasing serotonin in the Brain, fuelling the production of adrenaline, and all the while denying me of speech.
My mistress knew this, from our conversations and our past. Now she played me, again, like a master plays an instrument.
Her soft fingers traced down my shoulders, making me arch my back in pleasure. To the sides she graced, tracing muscle until she could knead the flesh that I could never quite eliminate with all my gym sessions- probing until I screamed out with the sensation.
Round to my stomach- my other weak area. All the crunches in the world never gave me more than a ‘one pack’, and her fingers teased, stroked, tingled and fluttered over my skin, forcing my breath to emanate in short gasps.
Meanwhile, Kay used my mistress’ knowledge of my body to vicious effect. She had longer nails, and ever so softly they stroked my exposed posterior, raising the bar again and again in my mind until the threshold was breached and I jerked around in soundless screaming.
My thighs came next, the nails fluttering and moving in long strokes up and down the muscle group.
They took a leg each and stroked up and down the calves, causing agonising pleasure from which I could not escape.
Finally, when I had shouted and yelled myself hoarse, they stroked my feet in a gentler fashion, bringing more pleasure than torture for a while as my strength recovered. I had never experienced such care as I had with these two- they were not intent on draining me of all my energy- but wished me to suffer, to endure, and to persevere with every intention they wished to fulfill that night.
But as I thought this was bad enough, I could not have been more wrong.
My mistress stood up and from the kitchen I could hear the kettle go on.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Love one” said Kay. The tickling had stopped, and I could hear her shoes clack on the floor as she walked around.
“You’re giving away your position” my mistress said to her, as if reading my thoughts.
“Would I be better with them off?” asked Kay.
“Seems a shame you’re the only one not in bare feet” called my mistress, pouring the kettle into two mugs from the sound, and stirring the coffee.
They drank, they talked, and all the while I kneeled awaiting their pleasure. I discerned the sound of Kay shedding her shoes and socks, then the gentle slap of bare feet on laminate floor as she picked up an item from the table.
The explosion of pain was un-prepared for as the paddle hit my rump and I gasped out in pain. A second, then a third, and a fourth.
“That’s for every time you have had your mistress at your mercy” said Kay. A note in her voice- jealousy?
“She told me all about you- each time you are on the couch together, you engineer it so her feet are in your lap. Then her socks come off, and don’t return until the night is over. Sometimes you tickle, sometimes you just stroke. Well now, it’s your turn to wonder what we have in store for you, young man” she continued, obviously enjoying her dominant role.
The paddle hit me again, continuing the onslaught until I stung red in the rear and stifled my mouth against crying out.
The count had reached ten, when my mistress calm voice cut through the pain.
“That’s enough, Kay” she said.
I heard her walk towards me, and something was picked up off the table.
“Can we?” asked Kay.
“…soon” smiled my mistress. Again, I knew from her voice when she was smiling. She sat down next to me, and against all expectations, stroked my hair gently. Her fingers tugged, flattened, stroked up the short hairs at the back of my head, and probed my scalp beneath the hair.
“Part of the punishment that you agreed to, was humiliation” she said, calmly. “I intend to satisfy the requirements of your punishment in full”. Her voice was so matter of fact. It’s simplicity scared me.
“But first, would you like to relieve yourself? You’ve been at this a while now, and it’s only fair we let you empty your bladder”.
I nodded, and thanked her. Again, with the blindfold to be left on, I was released and stood to stretch my naked limbs. Kay hit me again on the rump, and I cowered. No thought of defence entered my head now. I was beaten.
Led to the downstairs toilet, I relieved myself once more and upon returning, I was asked to lie down on a couch.
My hands were once again crossed in the small of my back and tied, but this time the length of rope dangled over my legs, which were bent at the knee and crossed at the ankle. The rope threaded round them and a knot applied. When my mistress had finished, I was hogtied effectively, and just as helpless.
It became hard to imagine how anything could be worse.
Fingers I could now identify as my mistress- long, cool skin, short nails- probed and stroked me starting with my back. I am sensitive all over, and the effect of exercise has given me a reasonable body. I would never consider myself a body builder, or muscular to any great degree- though my last girlfriend disagreed and found plenty to enjoy about my form- yet I possess the advantage of gender when developing muscular form over the years.
Like all men, I can develop large areas of muscle. My Latissimus Dorsi- the large, flat plates of muscle that run up either side of the lower back- are reasonably well developed. My shoulders are large and powerful, my arms defined, and my scapula clad in a reasonable form when I tense them.
My posterior- I’ve always thought the word ‘Bum’ was silly- has always been muscular from years of cycling and running. My thighs and calves very strong with muscle tone.
I had always been considered athletic, rather than muscular or thin. A reasonable body, with reasonable muscle structure.
And now that was all about to work against me.
My sensitivity is my physical weakness. The lightest of touch on my large muscular groups sends a feeling through me that is both intensely pleasurable, and highly ticklish at the same time.
First the cold fire spreads through my nervous system- I want to pull away, I want to jerk and buck at the feeling, yet all the pleasure spreads through my body, releasing serotonin in the Brain, fuelling the production of adrenaline, and all the while denying me of speech.
My mistress knew this, from our conversations and our past. Now she played me, again, like a master plays an instrument.
Her soft fingers traced down my shoulders, making me arch my back in pleasure. To the sides she graced, tracing muscle until she could knead the flesh that I could never quite eliminate with all my gym sessions- probing until I screamed out with the sensation.
Round to my stomach- my other weak area. All the crunches in the world never gave me more than a ‘one pack’, and her fingers teased, stroked, tingled and fluttered over my skin, forcing my breath to emanate in short gasps.
Meanwhile, Kay used my mistress’ knowledge of my body to vicious effect. She had longer nails, and ever so softly they stroked my exposed posterior, raising the bar again and again in my mind until the threshold was breached and I jerked around in soundless screaming.
My thighs came next, the nails fluttering and moving in long strokes up and down the muscle group.
They took a leg each and stroked up and down the calves, causing agonising pleasure from which I could not escape.
Finally, when I had shouted and yelled myself hoarse, they stroked my feet in a gentler fashion, bringing more pleasure than torture for a while as my strength recovered. I had never experienced such care as I had with these two- they were not intent on draining me of all my energy- but wished me to suffer, to endure, and to persevere with every intention they wished to fulfill that night.
But as I thought this was bad enough, I could not have been more wrong.
My mistress stood up and from the kitchen I could hear the kettle go on.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Love one” said Kay. The tickling had stopped, and I could hear her shoes clack on the floor as she walked around.
“You’re giving away your position” my mistress said to her, as if reading my thoughts.
“Would I be better with them off?” asked Kay.
“Seems a shame you’re the only one not in bare feet” called my mistress, pouring the kettle into two mugs from the sound, and stirring the coffee.
They drank, they talked, and all the while I kneeled awaiting their pleasure. I discerned the sound of Kay shedding her shoes and socks, then the gentle slap of bare feet on laminate floor as she picked up an item from the table.
The explosion of pain was un-prepared for as the paddle hit my rump and I gasped out in pain. A second, then a third, and a fourth.
“That’s for every time you have had your mistress at your mercy” said Kay. A note in her voice- jealousy?
“She told me all about you- each time you are on the couch together, you engineer it so her feet are in your lap. Then her socks come off, and don’t return until the night is over. Sometimes you tickle, sometimes you just stroke. Well now, it’s your turn to wonder what we have in store for you, young man” she continued, obviously enjoying her dominant role.
The paddle hit me again, continuing the onslaught until I stung red in the rear and stifled my mouth against crying out.
The count had reached ten, when my mistress calm voice cut through the pain.
“That’s enough, Kay” she said.
I heard her walk towards me, and something was picked up off the table.
“Can we?” asked Kay.
“…soon” smiled my mistress. Again, I knew from her voice when she was smiling. She sat down next to me, and against all expectations, stroked my hair gently. Her fingers tugged, flattened, stroked up the short hairs at the back of my head, and probed my scalp beneath the hair.
“Part of the punishment that you agreed to, was humiliation” she said, calmly. “I intend to satisfy the requirements of your punishment in full”. Her voice was so matter of fact. It’s simplicity scared me.
“But first, would you like to relieve yourself? You’ve been at this a while now, and it’s only fair we let you empty your bladder”.
I nodded, and thanked her. Again, with the blindfold to be left on, I was released and stood to stretch my naked limbs. Kay hit me again on the rump, and I cowered. No thought of defence entered my head now. I was beaten.
Led to the downstairs toilet, I relieved myself once more and upon returning, I was asked to lie down on a couch.
My hands were once again crossed in the small of my back and tied, but this time the length of rope dangled over my legs, which were bent at the knee and crossed at the ankle. The rope threaded round them and a knot applied. When my mistress had finished, I was hogtied effectively, and just as helpless.
