 Taking Him On
The Seer maintained that the male's shape-shifting lower appendage gave the lie to all his inner secrets - his mute, dangling antenna, in its inevitable swellings and shrinkings, rendered him both vulnerable and transparent, easy pickings that She candidly monitored at will. She further held that the male's essence was in his genital flow.
Consequently, there was no mystery in an evolved male's willingness to be drained, milked, denied, abused, used, by Her -- in his core he knows that what he most prides himself on is generated deep within his tender balls, that for Her to take what those balls produce is his only guarantee of his worth. The high water mark in his personal evolution as a man is humbly and thoroughly to awaken to his nature in relation to Her superior and wholly proprietary claim on his essence.
The Seer knew further that not only his genitals were Hers to drain and outrage, but that his lower regions held yet another promise for Her - The Seer loved to plumb and outrage his last circle of manly resistance, the wee pucker that he protected against every assault, his other final bastion of pride, his anus. Next to milking him, She most delighted in tormenting and taxing invasively that hidden shy sphincter of his, so wary and tender between the rosily risen hillocks of his well-spanked buttocks!
She pleasures Herself, and he is but the fleshy organism upon which She dances and sups. Whether She partakes of his flow with strategic grace and slow deliberation, or whether She flogs and reams him with relentless intensity, he has no other purpose than to BE used ... for Her full erotic Fury is Their Glory, to be took, taken, and tucked, thru every hour, thru every glance, thru each instant.
My first clue would be the outside doorknob - if a single strand of leather was hung upon the knob, it meant I was to let myself in. If the knob was unadorned, that was the signal to ring the bell, that She would admit me Herself. I loved to ring Her bell, the sweet and naughty sound of it, and loved as well to enter in silent rapture, the empty sound of that silence keyed to the mystery of Her needs. This day, the single strand was draped there. I let myself in.
Upon a small table just inside the front door, She would leave an array of enticements that I would then carry with me to the bathroom ... my first duty upon returning was always to cleanse and purge myself thoroughly before approaching The Seer, so that my purified person, buffed and at the ready, would be Hers alone to sully or exalt, as Her mood decreed.
Perhaps the kilt would be on that table, along with a few toys. Perhaps She will have selected some other article of apparel for me - at times, She liked to see me wearing sheer lavender briefs, which would constrain my genitalia yet leave them naughtily visible ... or She might select an abbreviated tank-top that was cut to just below my pecks and nipples, leaving my loins completely and very nicely uncovered, front and back. If She had selected the baggy, soft-fabric tan slacks, it would mean She would be securing my genitals in some fashion beneath the apparel, perhaps with a small genital collar, or even with a modest weight cleverly attached, and that we would be going out for dinner, or out to some other form of public interaction. On this day, She had lain an orange tank-top out for me . . . we would be dining in.
The toys She chose this day were three: Her heavy flogger with the thick handle, Her colorful feather duster, and the red gel bullet with remote attachment. She would be somewhere in the temple, probably alone at Her computer, surfing with motherly elan thru time and space, advising and guiding, commenting and succouring. And I would soon be on the floor beside Her.
Her computer desk was positioned out from the wall, with padded pallets on the floor on three sides of where She sat. A large full- length mirror was in place upon the wall that She could see past Her computer monitor. The mirror was so that She could watch what I was up to if I was down on the floor on the far side of Her monitor, and those three padded pallets enabled me to assume a variety of convenient positioning : The Seer loved to make it up as She went along, and the more angles
The Seer was dressed in latticed leather around Her upper body. She wore a garter belt, no panties, no stockings. I stole glimpses down over Her seated form, at the partially hidden swells of Her generous bosoms and at the slightly splayed posture of Her thighs. The sanctum of Her mons was nestled out of sight, a lovely tuft of dark fleece apparent beneath Her tummy. I resisted the strong urge to drop to my knees. She was seated at the very edge of Her chair, Her fingers rapid over the keys. My breaths came in deep draughts that I kept slow and deliberate and silent, so that they would not distract Her, as I had been taught. I placed the three toys beside Her monitor.
My softened genitalia were tucked up toward my lower abdomen, and goose bumps rose in the wake of Her eyes' thorough traverse down over my bared flesh. "Relax your scrotum," She finally said, "and wear this."
The Seer handed me the small leather collar, a two-inch sleeve that, when snapped into place, separated my testicles from the base of my penis. I willed the tension from my ball-sac, as She had taught me to do, and carefully adjusted the collar. She inserted the bullet, biting me ever so softly. I could not prevent the audible moan of intimate pleasure from escaping my lips as the bullet was screwed slowly up between my cheeks, disappearing deep inside. When she turned the bullet's vibrations on, I felt the whirring directly against my prostate and I was helpless to prevent the milking those vibrations would eventually cause.
"Lay on your belly there," She said, nodding toward the padded pallet beside Her on the floor, "Raise your hips onto a cushion." I stretched myself out on the floor on my belly, my legs spread and my arms reaching up past my head, which was turned toward The Seer's feet. I was fully extended, in a posture of complete surrender. I could feel the cold air on my stressed balls, squeezed down under the collar. She then spread Her leg toward me, placing one foot upon my ass. With the bullet turned on, my cheek muscles clenched involuntarily as the deep spasms spread beneath the heavy, embracing arch of Her foot. Her foot responded by pressing onto my hip with greater strength, moving and kneading the meat of my cheek. The embrace of the arch of Her foot was like a reward, which caused my lower back to contract a bit, lifting my cheek more firmly up into the pressure of Her sole. With a shiver, I knew then this was going to be an anal evening ...
Her first stroke with the flogger caught me by welcome surprise and I groaned in response. The Seer did not flog to inflict pain, but rather to cause an awakening of the deep back muscles, and to make sure my attention was warm and physical and sub-dominantly focused.
She would make of the juice She would be taking from me in this manner. I moaned in sweetest frustration as the draining began, my cock growing heavier by lazy degrees, and then the flogging ceased and I felt The Seer's weight come to rest upon the backs of my legs as She took hold of my thickening member from down between my spread thighs. She deftly slipped the condom along its length. Raise that butt higher.
Both ghastly and exquisite, the lower tip of the clear condom swelled as the weight of the cream dripped forth. My buttocks were burning deliciously and my bowels were churning relentlessly and I was squirming and moaning helplessly when
And the feather duster swept back and forth up along my collared balls, and as it went further, teasing my sphincter as She removed the bullet, the last of that day's essence leaked down out of me. It was the orgasm that was not an orgasm, and when She had finished milking me, I collapsed, weeping softly in abandoned gratitude at the way She had once more thwarted the unseemly spurting of a full-blown ejaculative orgasm from my too-often too-eager cock. Having lessoned my ass and prick royally, She then stripped the now-heavier condom carefully away from my diminishing member.
"I'm ready for my foot massage now," She proclaimed, laughing with coy flirtation while holding the condom forth gingerly, "I believe we have just the thing to make my toes happy indeed."
"And bring my #7 strap-on as well, Lover," She called after me, "I can tell your cute little pucker needs more than a mere dusting! Not only that, but your ass had a little too much swagger when I sped up the bullet ...! "
I was actually way ahead of Her on that one, for I had already begun exercising internally, tightening and slackening the muscles along my inner rectal and urethral channels, to get them toned and ready, as I had been taught.
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