My Mistress, My Accountant 2

by Bob Salinas

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© Copyright 2003 - Bob Salinas - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; bond; chastity; slave; cons; X

(story continues from )

Part Two

The next morning, I was awakened when Mistress Iris turned on the lights; I was smiling by the time she reached the cage- I didn’t want to give her the impression I wasn’t happy to be with her! “Well, how’s my prisoner this morning?” “Happy to be your slave, my Mistress!” She let me out of the cage and walked me over to the Throne, where I at least had the use of my hands to wipe my ass. In case you haven’t had the honor, taking a healthy crap while locked in a chastity belt is a delicate operation; if you lean too far back, your ‘output’ will snag the chains that secure the belly panel to the waist belt, and it can be both messy and smell god-awful bad. You really don’t want this to happen; it’s both unpleasant to you and annoying to your Mistress, which is of course very bad.

Next, Mistress Iris allowed me to follow her into the room which occupied the other half of the basement- a well-equipped workshop, mainly for woodworking but with some nice metalworking gear, including a small arc welder. “I do almost all of my own design and construction work. You will eventually be allowed to do some of this, too. Your first task will probably be rather light until I determine your skills; I think leatherwork might be appropriate.” We continued to putter until she walked me back to yet another door in the dungeon. This led into a proper bathroom, this one with a shower stall.

“You get to take a shower this morning, Bob! Better yet, you get to take it with me, But be aware of your position and don’t get too friendly.” “Thank you for the privilege, Mistress Iris!” I was already as naked as I was going to get for several days, so I waited while Mistress Iris turned on the water and then slipped out of her nightie and hung it up. I’d never seen her naked before (although I think I’ve admitted I fantasized about it), and I admit I was impressed as her body slipped into view. For an accountant in her high-thirties, she was a real babe! Everything was firm and well-toned, and when she saw me examining her she only smiled and told me “Remember your position, Bob, but thank you.” “You’re beautiful and most welcome, Mistress Iris!”

She again smiled quietly as she stepped into the shower and allowed me to follow her in. I had a grand time watching the water splash off her nipples, run through her cleavage and down her body. She was actually playful, and I reciprocated cautiously (remembering my new place). Even so, the chastity belt which I had locked on myself reminded me sternly of that new place. Had I been in a similar situation at home, we would have made passionate love with her pressed up against the wall of the shower stall, but that was of course out of the question.

When we were both  thoroughly lathered up, Mistress Iris reached up to her hair-stuff rack- a move which lifted her breasts enchantingly and made them bobble so I wished yet again not to be wearing the chastity belt. Noticing but ignoring my reaction, she retrieved a small blue plastic brush with short plastic bristles on one side, and slipped her hand into a loop on its back. “Hair-care people use this to massage the scalp. I have another use for it.” She took the brush and gently but firmly massaged my nipples with it! My tits were accustomed to stern stimulation, but this was a bit much; I jumped and almost said something before I remembered my place. “This will keep your nipples clean and also sensitive, like a loofa but more so. I want you to use it on your tits every day- don’t forget it, either!

 “And don’t forget to wash and dry well under that belt- if you leave soap you’ll be seriously itchy and you’ll have to beg for a chance to shower all over again.” I wished yet again I wasn’t wearing the damn belt, but then again wishes didn’t count much at the moment for people in my position. Damn damn damn...

Mistress Iris helped me to dry myself (again her touch was electric) and then led me upstairs to the kitchen where I (wearing only my chastity belt) watched her (wearing just her bikini panties and a lacy bra) as she whipped up a quick but filling breakfast. Even though I’d just finished a full-length tour of her body, I couldn’t help but stare at her form- particularly the alluring curves of her bottom- as she worked. I’m sure she knew I was watching her, but she also knew that I was well-equipped with a sturdy chastity belt to help me deal with any impure urges that might arise (or anything else that might even think about arising, in my case).

“Okay, Bob, this morning we’ll go to work on what originally brought you here- accounting.” She led me to her home office, which I had just glanced into before heading for her lingerie, but I didn’t think it would be a good idea to mention that right now. We sat in her office, she in her lingerie and me in my chastity belt, and dealt with accounting issues through lunch. She had a disturbing habit of bending low over the paperwork, which displayed her bountiful breasts and therefore caused my too-effective chastity belt to jerk me back into line, and again I’m sure she was well aware of that. But the numbers got processed.

After a similar brief lunch, Mistress Iris (somehow signaling through the language of her body that she was no longer my accountant but my Mistress) led me back downstairs. She led me through the dungeon and back to the workshop where she showed me my work station- a standard drawing board with a good assortment of instruments and an peculiar (mo, make that perverse) stool. About three feet high, it had a pair of cuffs at its base (which obviously were to keep me in my place) and a seat which was a padded cylinder about eight inches thick and a foot long. This might have been comfortable enough to sit on but for an addition: a pink rubber butt plug poking thickly upward. I groaned inwardly at the thought, but then realized that (1) my asshole, through years of self-bondage play, was no stranger to intrusion, and (2) my Mistress had prepared this seat for me. “Your workplace for the day, slave Bob!”

Noting that the plug shone wetly with some sort of slippery stuff, I hopped up and poised my butt over the plug, noting that the chains of the chastity belt left plenty of room for the intruder. I slid down on it, wincing as it spread my rectum... oohhh! Yes, it was slippery, but it was also a bit larger than I was used to. Hell, anything larger than two fingers is larger than I’m used to, at least at first.

I kept slipping down on it. Finally its widest part slipped in, with two results: first, the remaining length of the plug shot deep into my bowels; and second, my asshole slapped closed around the neck of the plug, which- while narrower than the body of the plug- was still considerably wider than my asshole was accustomed to. Yes, it burned, but it subsided gradually.

I took a few seconds to get used to the burning sensation before I let my whole weight rest on the stool, and it was definitely bearable. Not comfortable, but bearable. That done, my Mistress used the stool’s cuffs and a pair of padlocks to secure my ankles to the stool. Finally, she locked a chrome steel chain to one side of the waist belt of my chastity belt, pulled it under the seat and back up to the other side, where she locked it to the other side of the chastity belt. Both she and I knew I wasn’t going anywhere, but this is the way things were supposed to be for me.

“Well, Bob, I am going to entrust you with your first assignment. I want to build a rack for the dungeon- that’s one piece of dungeonware I don’t have. Take into account that it has to work well but also has to be failsafe and secure. I also want it to be a good looking piece of furniture... I once saw this type of device advertised as ‘abusive furniture’, and that term makes a good point: it’s both abusive and furniture. Use wood as much as possible, but for the necessary metal stuff use whatever you figure might be available from Home Depot. You’re in the hardware business, and you know what’s available. Questions?”

“Yes, Mistress. Will you honor me with the privilege of being its first victim?” “I’ll consider it seriously.” With a smile, Mistress Iris went to the laundry room to return with two pairs of panties: one white cotton panties, the other red silk bikinis. She held them out for me; clearly, neither pair was fresh (oh joy!). “Yes, Bob, I am going to favor you with my scent. Open your mouth.” I opened, and she plugged my face with the cotton panties. She followed up by pulling the bikini panties down over my head so the crotch lay over my nose (thank you, god!). “Thank you, Mistress!”, I mumbled.

“You’re welcome, slave Bob.” Then she pulled the leather hood over my head, strapped it snug, and locked it in place with the usual ponderous Master padlock. I looked at her form through the holes in the hood, took a deep breath, and smiled. She couldn’t see my smile but smiled back; she knew I was smiling. Then she patted me on the butt and left me to my work.

Well, for my first assignment I was certainly being given something useful! I sketched out a seven-foot-long table. Under the rack top I set two eight-foot pieces of 2X2 to support the stress of the winch. Across the 2X2s at the end I placed a pair of axles on which I would mount a pair of ratchets. I went on to clarify the design and add a few features, of course. 

Mistress Iris returned late in the afternoon. She looked over my sketches, made a few small changes and told me that tomorrow I would be allowed to use her computer to prepare a final set of drawings and materials estimates. Then she removed my hood and both pairs of panties- a shame, as I was falling in love with her scent. Ah, the hard life of a designer...but of course worse was yet to come. She told me to pull on some clothes as we were going out for dinner. I pulled on some shorts over my chastity belt and continued to get well dressed. We went out to a decent buffet place, Fresh Choice, and then she drove us home. 

She sat down in the living room and indicated that I could sit. “Bob, I am going to introduce you to one of your other duties. I haven’t told you yet, but I have an above-average need for sex. Oral sex, in particular- I have no desire to be soiled by the cum of as many men as I would need to keep me satisfied. Now I realize that oral sex while you’re wearing your chastity belt may be... no, will be a frustrating experience, but I can only remind you that you yourself wrapped it around your waist, stuck your own dong in the sheath, and locked it on yourself with a grin. Tonight, whether you enjoy it or not, you will bring me to orgasm at least twice. Whether you achieve satisfaction is immaterial, as I am your Mistress. Got that?”

“Mistress Iris, I am privileged to be your servant!” “Good... right here, right now! On the floor on your face.” While I dropped to the floor, Mistress Iris dug around for a piece of rope (they seemed to be everywhere in her house, for some reason) with which she tied my hands together at the small of my back. “Now on your back so I can sit on your face! Having your hands behind your back may be uncomfortable for a while, but this is a classic, time-honored bondage position for a reason. Roll over.” She dropped a small sofa cushion on the floor.

I rolled over onto the cushion; the pressure on my arms wasn’t too bad, especially as I rolled over to the sight of Mistress Iris undoing the back of her oh-so-professional pants suit and lowering it to reveal a lacy teddy that must have come from Frederick’s; at the hips the sides were cut up to her waist, in back was a graceful cross between a thong and a bikini,, and up top was a bra top which lifted and separated like Frederick’s best. Damn! My balls pleaded for God to send lightning to blow away the chastity belt, but for some reason nothing happened.

Nothing, of course, except that Mistress Iris unhooked the teddy. It slipped down from her chest, revealing the same magnificent pair of breasts that I’d showered with that morning... oh, my god! The teddy sank to the floor, revealing Mistress Iris just as nude as she’d been that morning. But this time my Mistress needed my services, and I was determined to do my best. Actually, the damned chastity belt eliminated the age-old problem of performance anxiety: I knew there was no way on Earth that I was going to have either an erection or an orgasm tonight, and that freed me to do my absolute best to pleasure my Mistress Iris.

And pleasure her I did! She tossed the lacy teddy off somewhere to the left and stepped over my head; I looked up between her calves, up between her thighs, up across her furry pussy, up across her bulging breasts and their erect nipples, to the pretty face that I anticipated would contort in pleasure when she sat on my tongue. “Relax, Bob... here it comes. Do your best for your Mistress Iris... please!” 

As she spoke, she slowly bent her knees until she knelt over my face. I watched her hairy lips spread as she allowed her knees to slide apart. Her pussy was so close I could smell her dusky odor! She let her knees spread further... her lips spread further... finally I felt her delicate hairs graze my lips. I opened my mouth and waited for a second, then three, until I could extend my tongue to touch her lips. Yes! She groaned with the first stroke of my tongue. She let her knees slide more until I felt her weight pressing her lips down on my face. Damn! My Mistress was sitting on my face, yet my cock was held prisoner by the double-damned chastity belt and I couldn’t even get a hard-on despite the pressure in my balls. DAMN!

So I carefully devoted my tongue to the service of my Mistress Iris. I licked delicately and spread my saliva over her pussy. She rewarded my efforts with a moan, and I extended my tongue further into her, penetrating her as much as I could. My balls were about to explode. I slithered my wet tongue along her meaty lips, joining my saliva with her secretions, rejoicing in the responsive moans that came from above.

Minute after minute I applied my tongue to her pussy until finally I was rewarded with “Oh damn... oh damn... I’m going to cum! Oh damn... damn this is good... oh damn I’m coming! You’re making me cum! OH DAMN I’M CUMING...” She dropped her weight on my face and almost broke my damn neck, but at the same time she gushed so much Iris-juice over my face that I knew I had succeeded in pushing her over the edge into her orgasm. I felt very good about that, almost as good as if I had cum myself! My own orgasm, alas, eluded me, locked behind the chastity belt.

Mistress Iris almost collapsed on top of me; she grabbed me around the waist and pressed her boobs against me. I gently kissed her nipples, being gentle because I knew I wouldn’t cum with her and I should just be gentle with her. Eventually her breathing slowed to something approaching a normal rate and she just held me and then almost dozed off. But after maybe another ten minutes she recovered enough to want more- like she said, she has a healthy appetite! Again she squirmed against me and then sat on my face. Again I worked carefully with my tongue until again she soaked my face with her juices. This time I watched her face through her cum- the pleasure she felt was so intense it was indistinguishable from pain, and she grabbed her nipples and twisted with matching vigor. 

Once more she took advantage of my helpless face and once more I brought her to a third orgasm. This time she screamed so loud I was sure the neighbors would hear, but when all was said and done she just collapsed on top of me.

After what seemed like hours she lifted herself off me. “Damn, you’re good- I wish I had known about this five years ago!” However, true to the Mistress’ pledge, she took me back to the basement and locked me in my cage for another night. Shit!

The third day

The next morning, Mistress Iris again released me from the cage and watched carefully- the better to humiliate me and crush my arrogance- while I used The Throne. She showered with me, making sure I briskly scoured my nipples, and ate breakfast with me. This time she led me to not to the dungeon but to her office, where she pointed me at her CAD software and told me that today while she was visiting a client I was to incorporate her suggestions and make a final set of working drawings with a bill of materials. While she was away, I completed the enjoyable task and then set about cleaning the house. I truly enjoyed cleaning her toilet, where she rested Her bare butt and voided her poop. I almost (but not quite) used my tongue, but I really did check carefully to make sure it smelled nice.

Mistress Iris returned that afternoon at 3 P.M. and allowed me to dress so I could accompany her to the local Home Depot (they frown on naked people and/or frolicking in the aisles). We loaded the truck with miscellaneous goodies and carried them home. When we arrived, I unloaded the material and carried it down to the workshop. This time as well I was told that my oral services were again required, and once again I laid down ob the floor and awaited her pleasure. When she slipped her panties down and knelt over my face, I applied myself diligently to my labors (undistracted by the impossibility of my own orgasm) and gave her another three orgasms. My balls were aching as she returned me to the cage for the night!

The fourth day

The next morning. she again released me from the cage and watched carefully while I used the Throne, showered playfully with me, and ate breakfast with me. This time she told me that I was to spend the day preparing, staining and varnishing the pieces. Perhaps if my work was adequate I would be allowed to assemble the rack. Of course, through the day I worked feverishly at preparing the pieces, praying that she would approve and allow me to be her first test subject. Of course, maybe if I proved to be a marvelous victim, she might let me cum... no, that was going too far.

When she arrived at 3 P.M., she surveyed the result and (thank you, Lord!) approved of my work. “Yes, Bob, you have done quite well, and I believe I will allow you  tonight to experience the delights of your rack!” Oh joy- I think!

We ate a leisurely early dinner and then went down to the dungeon. “Are you prepared for me, Bob!” I knelt before her in my chastity belt. “Yes, I am, Mistress!” “Up on the rack, my slave!” I hopped up on the rack. “Gag yourself, Bob!” Mistress Iris handed me a big ball gag which I obediently stuffed it in my mouth and strapped in snugly. “Now on your back so I can attach you to my new toy!” I obediently laid back, spread my arms and legs, and allowed her to strap the rack’s cuffs around my ankles and wrists. 

I waited as she turned the crank over and over, taking up the slack in the chains. Those chains were made of heavy chrome steel and could probably pulled a cow apart, but I wanted heavy chains for the sound they made. Finally I felt the chains pull tight; my arms and legs stretched out. She turned the crank again, maybe half a turn- chuck chunk chunk...; my entire body was drawn snug.

She turned the crank again- chuck chunk chunk... hey, this hurts! Just the idea of being stretched on a rack by my beautiful Mistress was so exciting, but pain has a way of interfering with one’s enjoyment. I wanted a hard-on in the worst way, but of course the chastity belt- which I had of my own free will locked on myself- made an orgasm or even an erection impossible. Damn- I didn’t know what hurt worse- the lack of an erection, the pain in my balls, or the stretching pain that threatened to pull my body apart! 

Seeming to sense the lust mixed with my pain, my Mistress continued turning the crank... chuck chunk chunk... I screamed into the gag. I was sure my body was going to part in the middle. Finally she stopped cranking when I felt like a bowstring about to snap in the middle. I just lay there and suffered, unable even to groan.

Mistress Iris let me lay there and bask in my pain for half an hour or so, it seemed, and then she leaned over to stroke the side of my face. She looked into my eyes: “Are you okay yet?” Yes, in that time I had recovered a bit- maybe my body had stretched?- and I managed a weak nod. She smiled. “If I remove your gag, can you be quiet?” Again I nodded, so she removed my gag. I smiled weakly at her; I started to say something but she put a finger to my lips and then leaned close, putting her ear close to my mouth. Quietly, I whispered to her “Damn, that hurts... please don’t hurt me more than necessary...but whatever you do is fine with me because you are my Mistress.” She smiled and said “Maybe the worst is over- maybe! Then again, maybe it’s not. Well, we’ll see.” Oh, great....

Mistress Iris stepped back from the rack which I myself had built and started to disrobe as I watched her with wide eyes. She unzipped the front of the long pants suit which discretely outlined her shape and hung it up, revealing a pretty lace camisole over a full-cut pair of black satin panties. After she finally removed her panties, she ascended the stairs attached to one side of the rack and walked over to stand over my head. I looked up between her thighs at the broad, furry crotch which awaited my attentions. I looked further up over her gently curved stomach and jutting breasts with their erect nipples at her placid face. She smiled at me as she knelt down and spread her knees until her warm pussy lips caressed my face. I eagerly extended my tongue and reached for her clit. She responded immediately and in a short while I detected the signs of arousal. 

Undistracted by the urge to rush toward my own orgasm, I worked diligently and Mistress Iris got closer and closer to her own. She leaned forward, briefly pulling her twat from my face, but instead of grinding up and down on my face, she cranked the stretcher another notch! I screamed into her twat and she slammed her meat down on me; she pulled the lever again, I screamed again, and she came all over my face, almost a river running into my suffering mouth. As her convulsions eased, she lay down on top of me, ignoring the way I was still suffering to the max. Finally she pulled herself back to the real world and slowly got off me and then carefully released the catch on the winch. The tension immediately released with a rattle of chain and I basically collapsed in a relaxed heap on the rack I myself had built, remembering that I had asked for the honor of being its first victim.

After a minute’s quiet conversation which assured her that I was still in good working order, Mistress Iris popped her satin panties in my face and strapped them securely in place with an ACE bandage. Then she released my ankles and wrists from the cuffs that I had chosen for myself and helped me down from the rack, whereupon she escorted me over to the Throne and then right back to the rack. “You will have to spend tonight in the dungeon; you’re not quite ready for promotion yet. The rack will have such happy memories for you!” I lay back in the rack and waited with some concern in my eyes as she reattached the cuffs.

After she gently but firmly bound me with the cuffs, Mistress Iris went to the head end of the rack and turned the winch until I was firmly stretched out but not brutally strained like before. “I trust you will find this a suitable sleeping position”, she said as she folded her pants suit and slipped them under my head. “At least you’re not wadded up like in the cage!” She favored me with a light kiss on the cheek and then padded off across the dungeon floor and up the stairs, turning off the lights as she left. Alone in the dark with only my fantasies, my constant companions the steel sheath of the chastity belt and the heady scent of her womanliness filling my lungs, and my head filled with concerns over whether I had done the right thing in turning my will and my life over to the care and control of my Mistress, I again cried myself to sleep.

The fifth day

When Mistress Iris entered the dungeon early the next morning, I was already awake- there’s something about being stretched on a rack that you yourself built, naked  except for a chastity belt that you carefully locked on yourself, that has a way of messing up your sleep! Anyway, when she came in, I had a smile for her- the tear tracks down the side of my face were pretty much gone. This morning, she came wearing just a T-shirt whose upper regions were stretched more than a bit at the top and which came so far down it almost covered her panties, which this morning were Rio-cut to expose a generous portion of the cheeks of her gorgeous bottom. As always, Mistress Iris a delight to see at any time, but this morning was a special delight.

Of course I wasn’t about to say anything, but Monica was due to come back today (I had a lot of time alone with my thoughts to keep track of things like that), and with her would come the keys to my chastity belt. I wouldn’t say anything because I didn’t want Mistress Iris to think that I wasn’t happy with the conditions under which I stayed with her. Yes, there were things I didn’t enjoy, like some of the pain she put me through, but that’s part of being a fetishist- like a masochist doesn’t enjoy pain, but he or she gets a sexual rush anyway. I was really learning to live with the chastity belt, too- I wasn’t sure how I would react to an erection!

Mistress Iris was cheerful and two steps ahead of me. “Good morning, Bob! And how’s my slave this morning!” “Mmmmppphhhh....” “Oh yeah... just a moment”, and she removed her panties (which were a sodden mass after I sucked on them all night long- there wasn’t a hint of her scent left, I’m sure). 

“I’ll have to leave you along for a while this afternoon- I have to drive out to the airport to pick up Monica..” “Thank you, Mistress! It’s so good to see you. Is today the day Monica is coming? I’d forgotten.” “Yes, I’m sure you had! I’ll head for the airport right after breakfast and she’ll stay with us for a while. While I’m gone you will of course busy yourself making the house pretty for her.” “I will be honored, Mistress!”

So she released me from the rack and sat me on the Throne. While I was there the phone rang; she answered and asked them to wait for a bit. “Here- lock your ankles to the Throne with there”, and she handed me a pair of leather ankle cuffs with an open padlock. While Mistress Iris went upstairs, I looked around and found a pair of eye bolts on the side of the toilet just below the seat. Obediently, pulled my ankles up and cuffed my feet to the side of the toilet. I found that this was actually quite comfortable, and I was quite empty and clean when  Mistress Iris returned. With a smile she told me “Monica just called from the plane! They’re ahead of schedule because of tail winds, so I’ll leave soon.” As she talked, she was unlocking me from the toilet. “But I have decided to dispense with the tidying up you were going to do. Stand over here, please.”

I stood as ordered (a hint from my Mistress was as good as an order) while Mistress Iris went to the workbench for a long nylon strap, maybe two inches wide and twelve feet long. After finding the middle of the strap, she held that point against the small of my back and pulled the ends forward, then back between my legs, back up around my waist, once around my chest, and then joined the two ends loosely behind my neck. I was puzzled, but it was not my place to question what she wanted to do to me. After that, she produced a roll of Saran Wrap.

“Spread your legs.” She covered and bound each of them with the wrap. “Now put your legs together.” She wrapped both legs, binding them together with the stretchy wrap and adding Duct Tape for solidity. “Double your arms.” I pulled my hands right up against my shoulders, and she bound them that way with several layers of plastic wrap and reinforced it with Duct Tape.

This was a strange feeling indeed, like my arms were gone! I had read enough online to know that what my Mistress was doing to me was ‘mummification’- an extreme form of bondage which would leave me completely vulnerable and cut off from the outside world. But if that’s what Mistress Iris wanted for me, that’s what Mistress Iris would get.

“Make fists.” She surrounded each fist with wrap and then more tape, turning them into useless clubs. Next she took another roll of wrap and sealed me in from my waist to my neck; my arms were completely useless now. She had me lean back until I was lying on the rack, my feet sticking out over the end. “Point your feet.” She bound them that way, using a lot of duct tape. If I had tried to stand, I would have been standing on only my toes, which I knew wouldn’t work. My feet were useless! It was like I had no ankles or feet, only weak toes pointing downward from my calves. Now she proceeded to use a great deal of tape everywhere. By the time she finished, my entire body was rigid and immobile. 

“Open your mouth.” Into my receptive mouth she inserted a six-inch-long piece of 2"-diameter (that is, big) PVC pipe. That done, she plugged my ears with something soft and squishy that felt like either gum or wax or snot) and then proceeded to wrap my entire head in the Saran Wrap. I couldn’t hear a thing and couldn’t feel a thing anywhere. When she finished wrapping tape around my head, I was totally cut off from the outside world!

Next I felt the strap, by now buried under the Saran Wrap and layers of Duct Tape, pulling tight, and eventually I felt the upper portion of my body being lifted off the rack. Shit! My entire body was stiff because of the wrap. I felt Mistress Iris lift my feet off the rack and lower them to the floor; this left my helpless body leaning ‘way back. But in a moment I felt myself being pulled more upright by the strap. I had seen that the ceiling of the dungeon was festooned with hooks and pulleys but I hadn’t given it too much thought... I mean, it was a dungeon, where one expected such things. In another long while, I felt my feet lift from the floor, then I felt a pat at my belly, and then I felt nothing. I waited, and I felt nothing.

I waited for a while, and then I waited longer, and then I felt panic. After I squirmed and struggled vainly for an hour or so, I exhausted myself and just hung there, feeling great despair like a person who’s been hung and now hangs waiting for his body to die so it will all be over with. Then, as I had become practiced at it, I cried myself to sleep.

 A long time later- it might have been a couple of days- I felt hands on my body. I swayed back and forth and then felt more activity around my lower body until I felt cool air touch my belly. Mistress Iris was slicing away my wrap to get at my cock- she must have gotten the keys from Monica! My heart leaped for joy. My cock leaped with it, only to be slammed back to limpness by the chastity belt’s steel sheath.

Then I felt hands at my head, and then cool air on my ears, and then I could hear again! The first sounds were my Mistress Iris’s voice. “Hello in there, Bob! I know you knew I wouldn’t leave you forever, although there was an outside possibility that I might meet with an accident or be arrested or something and have to leave you against my will, but we won’t worry about that since it didn’t happen! Anyway, Monica’s here! And she wants to meet you, but gradually.” I felt more activity at the side of my head and then the tape was pulled from over my eyes. 

Though my vision was clouded by many layers of Saran Wrap, I saw a another slightly taller figure which had to be Monica standing a few feet away from me. A few more sensations, and the plastic wrap too was pulled away. Monica was about 5'9 tall and had what will kindly call an athletic build- rather large and muscular, I guessed at maybe 145 pounds, with short red hair. Then Mistress Iris appeared next to her (oh joy!) and wrapped her arm about Monica’s waist (oh not-so-joy)- I was developing a ‘concern’ about the relationship between my Mistress Iris and Monica.

“Oh, yes, Bob- something I forgot to mention! Monica is my lover.” My heart continued to sink. “But don’t give up hope. Monica knows that I love you and that I desire to keep you by my side forever and ever, or maybe under my seat, and she accepts that.”

“Well, I sort of accept that, Bob!” Monica had a deep, strong alto voice, definitely feminine. “I’m not going to fight you for her, but I think you’ll have to accept that I’m going to be part of her life, and yours too.” I tried to tell both of them that I would try to be as open-minded as I could and welcome Monica into my life, but all that came out of the pipe in my mouth was “Oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh...”- hardly an epistle. They both chuckled.

My Mistress spoke up. “I assume that means you’ll accept Monica! Of course, as alternatives you can either ask to be released and go home or you can submit as I plug up your nose and the pipe in your mouth and then put on a show for us as you die. So I’ll assume for the moment that you accept Monica. But she and I have been separated for a long time now, and we want to renew our friendship or whatever you want to call it. I also want you to witness what we share... you’ll need to know that for the future.”

Mistress Iris and Monica stepped out of my field of view, after which that field of view rotated because they turned me to face the rack I had built for my own torment. I watched them as they covered the rack with a quilt; I realized that, in addition to being a great little stretching torture device, it was going to be demonstrated as a great little frustration-torture device. Sure enough, my Mistress Iris stepped to the side of the rack opposite me and unzipped her pants suit to display herself in a black teddy. She handed her pants suit to Monica, who hung it up and then took off her sweater and white cotton shirt to reveal a lacy blue bra, which my lusty eye estimated at maybe a 34C. My Mistress Iris hung up Monica’s sweater and blouse while Monica slipped off her shoes and then lowered her black stretch pants, under which she wore only more Monica. 

Mistress Iris looked at Monica, who said “Hey, I’m eager for you!” Mistress Iris grinned and slipped off her teddy, under which she wore the same nothing as Monica. Buck naked, she extended her hand to Monica and helped her up the stairs to the surface of the rack. I wondered who was going to be the dominant, but they settled that by neither being dominant; they just used the rack as a sack! They lay down, side by side, and wrapped their arms around each other and squeezed and kissed and in general did what it takes to drive men (and each other) wild.

Finally Monica decided to take the bull by the horns; she pulled loose from my Mistress Iris, sat up, turned and lay down in the classic ‘69' position. My Mistress Iris wasted no time, lifting one leg just as Monica lifted hers, and in moments two faces descended into two bushes. Monica’s back was to me, and I watched with agony in my balls as Mistress Iris’s hands grabbed her ass cheeks and her face plowed into her pussy. I listened with a pain I can’t describe as their enthusiastic face-fucking got more and more impassioned and louder. I wanted a hard-on and an ejaculation so bad it was incredible!

Finally my Mistress Iris got on top of Monica, spread her thighs, and drove her face between her thighs. Monica grabbed Mistress Iris’ ass cheeks with both big hands and pulled my Mistress’s face down on her face. From that time on I couldn’t tell too much what was going on except that I had to watch my Mistress being face-fucked by her lover! My balls hurt like you won’t believe and I wished terribly that I had never locked that damned chastity belt on myself. But in only a day or so the two ladies reached a noisy orgasm; damn, I wish I didn’t have to listen!. After half an hour or so they both collapsed into each other’s arms and lay quietly for an eternity. I just hung there and cried tears of frustration.

In a few hours, the two women finally pried themselves apart. Monica sat up on the rack, her thighs parted to display a very wet pussy, and held up for me to see a key (oh joy!) which I gathered went into the lock on my chastity belt. Monica spoke: “Bob, if you expect every to get out of that belt and feel your toy in your hand again, you’re going to have to convince Iris that you can make her feel better than I can. Hey, we both have hands and tongues; you have a cock and I don’t. If you can’t make her feel better than I can with that edge, you don’t deserve her!” Damn! I had to admit she had a point there.

Mistress Iris got up beside her and they both disappeared out off to the side... wrapped as I was, I couldn’t even turn my head. Moments later, I felt an assortment of motions, and in a couple of hours the tape and Saran Wrap peeled off me; I was naked before the two laydies except for (of course) the chastity belt which I had of my own free will locked around myself for all eternity.  Damn my own free will! They led me over to the Throne and watched closely while I relieved myself and then took me upstairs to the kitchen, where I did my best using what I had to prepare them a nice dinner. After we were all fed, Mistress Iris once again handcuffed me and led me to the Holy of Holies, her bedroom.

“Bob, you’ve been good enough that I’ll let you sleep in my bed! But just to drive home the new situation to you, you’ll get to sleep with Monica and me. Of course, you’ll still wear the chastity belt to eliminate any potential behavioral problems, and I’ll have to gag you to inhibit any complaints you might make should Monica and I decide to ‘cement our friendship’ further. Do you have anything sensible to say?” Sensibly, I had nothing to say, and I waited quietly while Mistress Iris fastened the penis gag in my mouth and pumped it up.

Then we all three crawled into bed together. True, the blow-up penis gag kept me from saying anything when, later that night, the two women decided to ‘cement their friendship’. Mistress Iris laid on top of me and spread herself open so Monica could reach deep into her to her most sensitive female parts. After Mistress Iris went through her orgasmic contractions for what seemed like half an hour, I could only- as usual- cry myself to sleep.



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