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The dungeon ***


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After two months in chastity - with nothing but the tiny and pathetic leakage of cum that had so unsatisfyingly dribbled out of him in a very ruined orgasm - the submissive ‘man’ was beginning to accept his lack of masculinity and his need to be subservient to his Goddess. He wasn’t really a man, after all! He needed guidance by a strong lady. He had started to learn his place, but still needed my further strict training and discipline.

Since leaving him at the last session covered in my piss and in a state of utter ***, I had begun to have many more sadistic ideas on punishment for this unknowing and inexperienced submissive. He had started to learn how to behave around me. But he wasn’t committed enough to my pleasure yet. It wasn’t his main focus…and it had to be. Besides, the sadist in me longed to see him with tears in his eyes again - glazed and staring at me as if looking, hoping…desperately searching for any mercy. I loved to see his ***. I thought about that *** whenever I touched myself.

In our communications, on top of the *** I had ensured he endured in his every day, I had also been finding reasons to exert my dominance more. I was firmer. Stricter. I spent more time berating him…more time reminding him that the power is mine and I’m the one in charge. Small infractions wouldn’t go unpunished. The ‘man’ needed any slight disobedience beaten out of him. It would be oh too easy to do this.. and I would enjoy every second of it.

Before our third meeting I informed him it would be a disciplinary, strict session. I warned him that as part of his servitude to me there would be severe ***. By telling him this, I willed him to feel small, to feel utterly humiliated by the idea of a young 5 ft 1 girl - a girl otherwise subservient to real men - punishing him. He was 6 ft 2 and very strong, but the second I had him tied up…he was mine to tease, degrade, punish. Mine to hurt.

He turned up for the third session in nervous anticipation, not sure what awaited him. He waited at the location I had demanded he go to, in a bit of a frantic state. He tried to stop tapping his legs and fidgeting in boyish trepidation. He tried to calm his breath… breathing in…out… but then….I catch sight of him.

I sneak up behind him. He is such a bundle of nerves that he jumps up and yelps just like a little girl. I pull him by the back of his hair towards me and whisper in his ear that I’m ready to put him to use. I blindfold him before he even sees me….he’s to be led in the darkness today. I wanted him already in bondage and gagged when first seeing all the possibilities of *** that would soon surround him. Unable to scream or flee when the blindfold is removed and his predicament is revealed to him.

Little did he know that I’d booked a dungeon. Equipped with all kinds of bondage and *** items ….from bondage wheels, stocks and cages to weights that could be attached to his balls, vices that could squash them and, a favourite addition: ball boxing gloves!

I wore a lace, fishnet crotchless bodystocking paired with a very short latex dress on the top. It clung to my athletic shape. I wasn’t yet as muscled as the man but that was my aim - to at some point have enough genuine strength to make overpowering him easy, even without bondage. To not have to tie him up and just be able to use him, in any way and at any time. To be able to take him in whatever way, whenever and wherever I wanted. When this could be achieved I knew he’d be my true servant. My training at the gym was paying off and he had been slacking….feeling too effeminate to make his body look more manly…knowing that he wasn’t really a real ‘man’. Just a silly male play thing.

My outfit was perfect for dominance and it showed off my muscled and thick thighs - my strong legs that would later be used to squeeze the breath out of him to *** him into submission. The crotchless bodystocking made more *** possible - I’d definitely be using him and his mouth as a place to piss. A useful thing to sit on. Pretty sure he might make a good foot rest too when I needed a break from kicking him in his ‘manhood’.

Words aren’t spoken as I affix the tight collar on his neck and lead him into the dungeon via this leash. Walking him in public like this he seemed to feel humiliated. Perhaps he was ashamed of being seen as weak by others…revealing his lack of masculinity to the world. As if to escalate the situation and make his red-faced shame as embarrassing as possible for him whilst in public, I loudly asked how desperately he’d like to cum. I tease him with the fact he must be so full of cum that even fucking a melon again could push him over the edge. He looks crestfallen at the mention of his situation in public. He drops his head and his eyes are facing downwards as he is led to the dungeon.

Arriving in the dungeon, l push him into a special *** chair. There are lockable straps for his arms. Straps for his legs. But my favourite element of this *** device was a special hole on the seat of the chair. It was designed for balls to be shoved through. The hole wasn’t well sanded down, so even just pushing and forcing some blue cum-bags to hang out of the tight hole would be a ***ful squeeze. The chair can be elevated so that when a slave is in position and his balls are hanging through the chair then they make a perfect punching bag for the lady enjoying herself underneath!

I cut his clothes off. He doesn’t deserve to wear clothes. He’s whimpering as I strap him in very tightly. He tries to fight against the restraints but I’ve got him so well bound both physically and psychologically that he can’t - and dare not - move. No escaping.

I remove his blindfold. I watch as he takes it all in. I revel in his ***ful reaction. He looks at me, the unknown, dark surroundings, the intimidating *** devices. He sees, as his eyes widen in innocent shock, the predicament he is in. He’s completely at my mercy. Around him, he sees canes. Paddles. Crops. Vices for cocks and balls… later to be used to squeeze his! He sees candles. Ropes, twines. Boxing gloves… massive boots! Spikes. He squirms as he sees clamps and weights. What would happen next? He had no idea…..

Relishing in his nerves, the first thing I do is tease him. I wanted his cock to be as sore as possible before I started torturing it. His cock looked tender, purple (and tiny!) shoved in that cage. But the use of a Hitachi wand will be just enough to make it even more more sensitive to touch…

I place the wand just in front of his cage so it’s stimulating him through the bars. There’s just enough contact to put him on edge and oh so tantalisingly close…but still unable to cum through the cage. I laugh at the discomfort in his eyes as he strains against the cage, the spikes digging into his hardness, and I lay on the ground in front of him with my legs upwards. I kick off my thigh high boots…shoving my feet in his face. I command him to suck; to worship my feet. He complies. When he’s licked all of the sweat off my feet, I’m bored. *** time.

I removed my feet from his mouth, giving his face a little foot slap as I did so. I stood up and moved the hitachi away…I may use it later for post orgasm ***.
I gagged him with yesterday’s socks, shoving them down his throat, and sealed his mouth with duct tape. He could taste my sweaty feet in his mouth while I hurt him.

I thought about my next move slowly… dragging out his nervous wait, and his eyes seemed to gloss over in *** as I loomed over him. I grabbed some rope… undid the lock on his chastity belt and removed it. His erection was immediate… I got the feeling he’d cum in less than ten seconds of me touching him. What a desperate, dirty man!

Grabbing his cock roughly in my hands I began to wind the rope around his shaft as so to separate his ***y throbbing cock from his swollen balls. I used the whole length of the rope, pulling it as tightly as possible and ignoring his discomfort. Hearing his *** made me fasten the rope even tighter. I was loving this power. Loving the reaction.

Already he was wincing in ***, like the pathetic excuse of a man he was, and his balls were purple from the strain of the rope. I left a short pulley on the end of the rope, after tying several knots that were so tight they cinched on his skin. A little cock collar and leash for later as a reminder of the ***…
The thought of him being dragged along on a cock leash after I had crushed and beaten his manhood made me so very, very wet.

I looked up at him now, a tear had started to form. He looked so ***. So scared….I took advantage of his pitiful state and feigned sympathy with my most patronising voice. I asked him if he’d like to be touched. He begged and pleaded to be touched. I asked him how much he’d like to cum… and being given the correct answer and the correct address I begin to spit on his cock and use both hands to stroke him, at first in a pleasant manner. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes…he thought he was finally able to cum. I love ripping this hope away and, seeing him begin to relax and moan, I quickly become violent. I make the stroking ***ful. I suddenly speed up so much so that every time I thrust my hand from up to down it’s like a punch in the balls, slamming into them.

My grip is very tight. He’s being squeezed so hard…but he’s still brimming with cum. He tells me he’s close. I ignore him until he uses the correct way of begging his Goddess for permission to cum. When I hear this beg, I slap his cock. Hard. The muffled scream as he reels in *** makes me drip … a drop of excitement from my pussy that runs and drops onto the floor. As he sits there suffering in his agony, I tell him that from today any mess will be licked up by him. He’s a floor cleaner.

I immediately carry on stroking his now very tender cock and his face is a hilarious picture of suffering. I see he’s twitching again. I see a drop of precum. Another cock slap, before I immediately carry on the violent handjob. This method of getting him very excited and then destroying his orgasm with a smack or a hit or a slap to his cock went on for sometime….By the end let’s say he was struggling to hold onto the fact that he wasn’t yet completely sobbing yet. He would be very soon.

Wanting to reduce him to tears completely and not satisfied with the reaction yet, I then grab his balls viciously, using my nails to dig in to his skin. I *** his bruised bags oginto the hole in the chair - laughing as he pants and exhales in *** - so that his very raw, sore cock stood upright in the tied position and his balls were hanging out of the chair at the bottom. I elevated the chair with the pulley attached. I rip off his duct tape and remove the socks from his mouth. I want to hear him cry when I box his balls.

I decide to ignore him for a while. I donned my boxing gloves, not paying him any notice. He would just be a source of entertainment for a while! He was a ball bag for my punching practice. Later he’d be a kickboxing bag, a face seat and a piss vessel.

I go to start, counting every 10. I’ll stop when I’m bored. 10 punches… the guy is screaming. I’m under the chair and my only disappointment is that I can’t see his face. 20…. His voice sounds broken as he yells. 30… I’m laughing at the *** he’s in. He’s really trying not to cry. 40… he’s in tears. I loved how easy it was to hear that blubbering, wailing sound of a grown man sobbing his heart out. But that’s certainly not a reason to stop! His balls looked really ***ful. Swollen. Tender. I’m loving the way that he’s now yelling through tears! It’s fuelling me to carry on. I only stop when I’ve had another more ***ful idea.

I lose the boxing gloves. I look him directly in the eyes… adding to his *** in his crying state. His face is stained with tears as they drip down his face. His mouth is wobbling as he struggles to compose himself. His lips are quivering.

I laugh. I’m in my element. I tell him it’s time for him to pleasure me. Time to put his face to use.

I lower the chair and I harshly yank his balls from the hole in the chair. He yelps and I smile to myself thinking about the *** I’ve caused. I stretch his bruised looking balls, pulling them forwards. I use my hands to flatten them in front of him. Without warning, I place one foot onto his flattened testicles. Using all my weight I step onto the chair. All my weight is in one leg as I balance on it. I turn to face him and look down on him with a sadistic grin as I crush him. His *** is so obvious. His agony is so loud. I love the look of despair in his eyes. I’ve truly broken him.

I then turn away from him. I put my pussy on his face, almost laying on him with my legs supported behind me by placing them on his shoulders. My hands are balancing me on the chair, placed dangerously near those flattened balls.

I demand he worships his Goddess’s pussy and put his mouth to use. I talk him through exactly what to do. I want to squirt all over him and I instruct him on how to go about my pleasure. As I begin to moan and get closer to orgasm, I place my hands on his balls. I press down. I squeeze with my whole upper body strength… and seeing his *** sends me to the edge. I’m about to cum. But he cries out in *** and momentarily stops pleasuring me. How dare he?!? He would definitely be punished for this.

I scold him and tell him that his duty is to give me pleasure. His ***, his breath, his anything - none of these things should be getting in the way of my orgasms! I berate him and tell him that when I’m finished using his face; he would now face more ***.

The ‘man’ seemed to realise his failings as he then desperately tries to make up for stopping. He appears remorseful and open to my instructions. I demanded speed with the way he sucked and licked my clit. I told him he needed to tongue fuck me. Harder. Faster. I rode his face and began to grind on it. I reached my orgasm. I’m gushing. I demand he open wide and lap up all my squirt.

When I’ve had multiple orgasms I notice that he’s also a convenient thing to piss on. I remove my pussy from his face and lower my legs from his shoulders so I’m standing on the chair, again putting one foot and all my weight on his balls. I push my butt back and start pissing all over him. I remind him that it’s an honour to be covered in the juices of a Goddess like me. I demand him thank me for the gift and lap up any of the spillages on his body. I turn and watch him as he desperately tries to please me, licking his arms, licking his hands, lapping up any squirt he can. His failure earlier would still be punished but it was all very amusing to see him eagerly trying to escape his fate.

When I’m satisfied that he’s piss covered and quite humiliated enough I move off him. I unbuckle him from the chair and lead him to my ball busting cross, using the cock leash I made earlier. He provides some momentary resistance so I have to slap him into place to remind him that I’m in charge.

When he’s tied to the cross I remind him that my pleasure is paramount, and when servicing me in the future he was never to stop again unless he was told to. He was about to pay the price for this today.

I grab a ball crusher. This was made of two sheets of plastic, and could be tightened by using the four screws - one on each corner of the device.

I put his balls between the sheets of plastic. Now, looking directly in his eyes I tighten the screws on all four corners of the device. I tighten each one in turn and then when I have tightened all four I go back and tighten some more. I only stop tightening when I see him on the verge of crying again.

I then begin to stroke him and tell him I want him to cum. He looks relieved at the chance of release and begins to moan… but at the same time he looks to be in agony at the strain on his balls. Every stroke took him closer to orgasm… but every stroke meant that the vice clamping his balls rattled and caused him searing ***. I continue. I tell him I want him to cum…I want him to cum now.

But the second he begins to cum, the second I see any dribble come out of that tiny cock…I knee him in the balls. He’s very sensitive just now but then I carry on stroking him immediately…no pause. I’m milking the cum out of him now. The second I see him spurt again there’s another knee to his groin! It’s just like music to my ears as I hear him cry!

I repeat this *** of stroking him, milking him of every drop of cum in those balls… At every orgasm, kneeing him or kicking him in the balls.

Eventually his reaction to the post orgasm *** is wearing off on me and I decided I’d had enough of him.

I *** him into the cock cage and I hand him his cut up clothes, taking him to the door. I would fuck myself so hard thinking about his tearstained face.
Reading this back… my mind is twisted. I would love to inflict this on a ‘man’
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