1 comments/ 9536 views/ 3 favorites Chaffernaught 01 By: MistressColleen Chapter 01: Chanel No. 5 The ride was long and scenery tolerable, but my conductor proved a fulfilling way to pass time! I was tired and now all I wanted was my pussieboy. I wanted to be cleaned, showered and pampered. As the train pulled into the station I could almost feel my pussieboy's nervous anticipation. I could hear his thoughts and feel his concerns... would he pass inspection, remember his lessons, and perform as expected? As far as he was concerned, no, he wouldn't. I wouldn't let him. I knew how to stoke my little boy's vilest perversions, and more than simply bask in the results. I planned being colder, crueler, and more demanding than I'd ever been before. I intended taking every opportunity to degrade and humiliate him in the most repulsive of ways. I would deny him every compliment, strip him of every privacy, and not let him cum. I've come to claim his body and mind as my property. Waiting in my room for the conductor, I studied myself in the mirror carefully, a bit critically. God, that man almost wore me out last night, almost. He wasn't difficult to nab and proved a welcome diversion. I ran my fingers through my hair, then gave my blouse a tug, adjusting it to my breasts, so they stood up, lifting the material properly. I smirked while moving them around behind the crisp white fabric, pinching my nipples enough to have them standing out brazenly, for my pussieboy of course. I know how important these are to my pussieboy. He worships them because they help make being my pussieboy worthwhile. I use my breasts sparingly, but effectively. My nails are freshly painted bright red, and I'm pleased with them. They make a startling contrast to the pale coloring of his skin, and his bloated blue balls. His cock would soon be dancing for them and to them, as usual. Another smirk crossed my lips thinking of the pleasures I would soon derive from my pussieboy in the days ahead. The conductor knocked on the door and asked if I was ready. I took a final spritz of Chanel No. 5, knowing it bothers my pussieboy, and put the bottle back in my purse before opening the door. The conductor, a handsome Nubian prince, nodded as I used one red nail and pointed to my luggage. Oh, he was so prim and proper today, all dressed in his spotless and pressed uniform, cap perfectly centered on his head. I've found it's easier to begin training a male in the early morning hours, using plenty of roughness, degradation and discipline. Males need to be tamed, and this wild cat had proven no different. I could tell by the way he acted this morning he now understood his place. I held my breasts up, as he held the door open and bowed his head. His animated crotch told me he was horny again already. "Ma'am," he offered, hoping I saw his desire. In passing I reached down to allow my hand the opportunity of showing my affection for his organ. Through the material of his uniform I squeezed till his eyes closed, allowing him little time to ogle my breasts. "Why, good morning," I returned in feigned innocence, releasing my grip to move on. I headed toward the exit, my newest acquisition in tow. I stepped from the train without scanning the large crowd. Pussieboy would know where to find me through this throng of humanity. The conductor set my bags down, and I extended my thanks by stepping close, pressing my body to his. "Thank you," I whispered through a warm smile. "It was a pleasure traveling on your, ah, big train." He looked down into my eyes, and then to my breasts again, which I lifted to the occasion. I'm no longer amazed by the male, they're all so typical. "The pleasure's been all mine, ma'am," he said licking his lips like the dog he is. By then I could sense my pussieboy was near, and my pulse quickened. The prince bowed, turned, and returned up and into the train. As I was studying his ass, I could smell the cologne I'd picked out for my joeie, my pussieboy, Pierre Cardin, Original. He dislikes perfumes or scents of any sort, but I do demand some things. He's become somewhat accustomed to my Chanel, and his bottled scent is an invisible collar, along with the bell I had him wear, as a sign of my dominance, and his complete submission. Pussieboys take a lot of work. Chaffernaught 02 Chapter 02: A Little Bit of It turned out to be a bright summer day and once on the platform I retrieved my cigarette case and opened it. As I took a cigarette from it a flame appeared and I was treated to the tiny tinkle of his bell. Though itching to have his tongue buried in my behind I remained cold and indifferent by ignoring him. True, I wanted my pussieboy to first dine on the Nubian's sperm. As is expected, pussy had just spent over an hour of her time extracting rather copious amounts of it for him from my Nubian Prince. A pussieboy needs to be fed gobs of warm sperm from a well-fucked pussy. Whether fresh or stale, a thick creamy pie is what a good owner feeds her pussieboy. My little pervert expected it of me, and along with keeping my breasts up and out, it was the least I could do. He'd been waiting as expected, as I'd taught him, somewhat out of fear for my birch rod, but mostly to garner favor. He was mewing in the cutest way, and I, and my pussy, were very pleased. It was easy to see he wanted nothing better than to get his hands and mouth on my breasts. Even now, from the corner of my eye I saw him staring at them pressing out against the material of my blouse, at the bumps caused by my stiffened nipples. I took a breath and held them higher, as if offering them to him. These were his reward for obedience and the movement of his cock behind the material of his sweat pants told me they were having the desired effect. He liked nothing better than to kneel at my feet looking up at them, or better yet, to have them dangling above him as he lay on the bed, or best of all, having permission to do anything he'd like to them, ouch. As instructed, he was wearing the bell on a cord of leather around his neck. As I inhaled to the sound of his mewing I looked him over from behind my dark sunglasses. He'd dressed as expected, a light t-shirt, sweatpants and sneakers, the only articles of clothing I allow him to wear in public with me. I even noted he was sockless. He was such an obedient naughty boy I allowed the fleetest of smiles to cross my lips. So far he was doing very well, but I didn't want to tell him, as that would never do. My pussieboy must expect a cold cruel mistress, not a schoolmarm. He waited patiently, mewing eagerly, thighs pressing together in obvious attempts to capture and massage his cock. I was sure he'd begin masturbating right here and now if I so ordered, but he wasn't quite ready to be shown publicly. He stood before me mewing and twitching, his hands trembling near his crotch, waiting to grab his cock and begin pumping. I smoked my cigarette and told him in very explicit words about the male I'd met on the train. How I'd sucked this cock and balls, and how I'd let him fuck my pussy and behind. As I spun my tale I stopped along the way to remind my joeie that these were things he was never permitted to do. I knew my adventure stories excited him almost as much as my controlling his sex, or that of my turning him into a jism slurping, pussieboy, whose only sex is masturbating and 'fucking' my left hand, when she's in the mood to allow him. It's a custom among the sisters of the sorority going back to its founding, that the left hand of every sister must eventually 'marry' a male. It was time for one of my little tests, and if I were lucky he'd earn ten more swats of the birch. Grinding my cigarette under a heel, I placed the index fingernail of my right hand under his chin and lifted his head up toward the sun. My actions appeared as innocent as could be and few people passing took a second look. I appeared much like a concerned mother, or interested better half, but he only hesitated ever so slightly, just enough for me to use as an excuse to begin our week with discipline, which is the best way to begin my visits. His mewing became more pronounced, meaningful. I pushed his head up higher and pretended to be looking at something of interest on his neck, and whispered into his ear so no one would hear. "Pussieboy, you know better than to resist me," I purred in false surprise. "And for that you will receive ten with the birch rod!" I could feel him tremble to my words, as I expected a true pussieboy should, and as a true pussieboy he made every attempt there and then at that moment, to behave even better. My most difficult questions to myself were, 'what couldn't I get this sexually frustrated fool to do for me', and, 'how could I control myself?' People passing must have taken us for a cute couple. They must have thought I was checking my boyfriend's neck for a bruise or something like that, when instead I was demonstrating my dominance, and his submissiveness. He whined for real after hearing about the punishment, but he understood what it meant. I removed my finger from under his chin, scraping his skin lightly, and as expected, his eyes immediately went back to staring at my breasts as his hands struggled on either side of his active hard-on. I looked down to find the front of his sweat pants soaking wet with juices from his drooling cock. It bothered me to see those juices being wasted and my disappointment showed. He mewed louder, begging me to let him masturbate. "You'd beat-off right here and now if I tell you to, wouldn't you, you silly ass bimbo," I stated in a quiet but stern voice meant to degrade and humiliate, and he nodded in acknowledgement. He couldn't hide his sexual frustration, or control it. So I took a breath and held my breasts up even higher, and brought them to just under his eyes, right up to his chest. He actually had to catch drool from the corners of his mouth, but he never stopped mewing. "Yes, Mistress Colleen," he murmured loud enough for me to hear. I could tell the thought of me ordering him to begin masturbating caused him some distress, but too, I could tell he was to the point of not caring who saw him. He was almost ready. Between the large wet spot, his bouncing cock, and his struggles, I had to laugh out loud at him. I did so knowing it fed his perversion, served to stoke his sexual frustration. I couldn't help but tease. I need to accustom my pussieboy to being embarrassed when in public with me, but I'm taking it slow. I hold my breasts up proudly before him, like one would a meaty bone to a starving dog. I capture them between my upper arms and press them together. His eyes go wide and his mouth falls open, and I laugh at how simple he is to control even here in the train depot parking lot. As mother and Governess, I need to take care of my breasts, since they're something my charge holds so dear, and they're one of his few rewards. Any boy that works as hard as my pussieboy does just to see, and maybe fondle my breasts, deserves to know they're well taken care of. I make a motion that tells him I'm ready to go. Without taking his eyes from my breasts he grabs my bags and we walk to his vehicle, him mewing the entire way. When settled he offers me a thermal cup and I take a sip. I knew it wouldn't be coffee, since it was after 11am and I do not drink coffee after that time. No, my thoughtful pussieboy provided me Old Grand-Dad bonded bourbon, with a single ice cube. I took another sip and set the cup aside. With his eyes once again glued to my breasts, this time seeking out my cleavage, I reached over and slipped my hand into his sweats. I found and enveloped one of his balls in my fist. I discovered the ball swollen and its confines damp. joeie literally jumped in my hand, and mewed louder and more plaintively. "You are never to hesitate when I give you a command," I hissed in a sinister voice, squeezing his ball hard, "you are to do as I say immediately, without thinking!" His body went stiff, and he whined loudly. He fought to stay still as tears came to his eyes. "Yes, Mistress Colleen," he whispered in plea. He sighed with relief when I released his testicle. I pulled his waistband down to see for myself he'd worn no underwear, but it was simply to showoff and demonstrate my superiority. Satisfied, I grasped his hardened cock lightly. It throbbed in my palm as I ran a fingernail along its bottom, from its head down to its base, and back. My pussieboy shivered in the heat, prepared to be humiliated by me in the most vulgar ways I can imagine. No matter how mean I am to him, or how badly I treat him, he still can't take his eyes off my breasts. I open the top few buttons of my blouse so he can see deeper into my cleavage, but alas, it's time to go and I demand he keeps his eyes on the road and off my breasts. He'll obey, because he wants to see them again. Such is the way of a pervert. Chaffernaught 03 Chapter 03: Born Under a Good Sign The ride home was pleasant for me, alternating between sipping Old Grand-Dad and playing with my toys, joeie's cock and balls. He mewed with every breath, and that little sound mixed with the warmth of the bourbon reinforced my resolve to make this visit the coldest and cruelest one yet. Each time we stopped for a light I allowed him to go crazy and really begin fucking his girlfriend, my left hand. I can't help thinking about the last hour of the train ride, how I spent that most enjoyable sixty minutes with my legs wrapped round the waist of my Nubian Prince while he fucked me silly. I could yet feel his balls banging against me with each in-stroke. I looked at joeie and just had to laugh at the way he was acting, and the things I could get him to do. I brought along my new video camera this visit, with plenty of cards on which to record my successes and my joeie, for my sorority sisters and posterity. I'll be dressed in the finest outfits, and beside me will be my trophy male, naked, collared, leashed, and worse, of course. I planned taking the most vulgar and disgusting pictures I can conjure. As a concerned mistress I'll use the videos to help illustrate for joeie where he needs to improve, not that he needs improvement per se, but the only things I want swollen are his cock and balls, certainly not his ego! The next red light brought more of the same. "Oh, my joeie, my, my, my. You sure are good at fucking, aren't you," I said sarcastically, knowing this was the closest to the real thing I would ever allow him. "That's the way joeie, fuck your girlfriend good," I coaxed in a sultry voice, while he struggled to hump. I had my little joeie to the point of losing control. "Come on, fuck like you mean it," I say to encourage him further yet, though I'm paying little attention. I pretend to be oblivious to what he's doing in my left hand. I'm looking out of the window with feigned indifference to my little pervert. Each red light lasts but a minute, but by the way my little pervert carries on during each minute, they seem a lifetime, at least to him, I'm sure. It had been almost a year since I brought my hand to visit last and it shows in the way my joeie acts. I'd never found him more eager to fuck his girlfriend, and that was another one of those good signs. During the year I'd never found him more focused on masturbating, so as you can see there's no reason to write this story from his perspective. His only goals in little life are to worship and become one with my pussy and behind, and to have cock wed, becoming the property of my left hand so he can have sex like a normal couple. In return I offer him rewards, and to spend the rest of his life married to and fucking the only female he'll ever know intimately, when allowed. Right now my jism joeie is simply a happy little pervert beat-off awaiting orders, but soon his cock will be married to my left hand, and what my joeie doesn't know yet is that I'll no longer permit him to masturbate, as that would be cheating. After the wedding, cock must and will stay faithful to my left hand because cock will stay caged in hand's absence. And from what I can tell, joeie's actually going to enjoy it, eventually, as much as me. When I'm at home in bed with some man, I don't want to be worried that cock is messing around. From the corner of my eye I watch joeie leap around in the seat beside me, his hips jumping up and down driving his cock in and out of my fist. My hand is drenched in his cock juices and I can't help snickering again, which I do often around my joeie. As he mews and squishes about, I laugh and sip, and it all reinforces my resolve. Right there and then I make myself the promise I've made to myself several times prior to the visit, and I make it aloud... that I will treat my joeie, my jism slurping pussieboy with loving disdain, I will be colder and crueler then I've ever been before, and my discipline will be more sure and more deliberate than ever before. My words fill us with power, me with crescendo, and joeie with a need to hump faster. Simpleton. The trip to his house is short, and I can't wait to get started. Nine whole days to make up for one year. I promised myself we'd go out somewhere every day so he can practice taking embarrassment. This visit I promised to get joeie over his fear of shame, obeying me without discomfiture, regardless of circumstance. Fortunately for me my pussieboy's a private, shy soul, a spirit ripe for the plucking, and believe me, I had every intention of getting every pore of his six-foot frame pleading, begging for what I could only imagine. I'll keep his testicles so purple he'll walk like a baby with a load in its diaper. I came back to the moment as we pulled into the driveway and parked. I released cock and rammed my wet hand into his mouth, and like a well-trained pussieboy he devoured the juices from my hand eagerly, mewing all the while, and that too was another good sign. Eventually I went to pull my hand from his mouth but he held tight, as if for dear life, making me work it out slowly, and that too was yet another good sign. He pulled his sweats over his drooling hard-on and hopped out of the truck, retrieved my bags from the back, and opened my door. Once standing in his driveway I grabbed his balls and pulled him close. I had him panting now, almost quivering and I knew he wanted to masturbate. Instead, I pulled him down and kissed him thoroughly, twining the fingers of my other hand in his hair and pulling. His face reddened but I never let go of his balls, and this time he didn't hang back. When finished, I released what had to be sore testicles, and motioned toward the steps to the house. He mounted them somewhat gingerly and opened the door for me. I walked coldly passed him as if he were a stranger, taking the key from the door. Inside I noted the cleanliness and spotlessness of the foyer. He must have guessed he'd be spending quite a bit of time here. The hooks on the floor were new, but placed exactly where I wanted them. My birch rod stood by the door to the studio room, where training sessions are held. As my pussieboy closed the door and locked it, he stripped immediately and assumed the position for inspection, the Pi Loda Cum inspection. He was on his back, knees to his chest and spread wide, hands up over his head and spread wide. I scrutinized his position and could find nothing wrong with it... yet. I left him like that while I went to the kitchen to wash my hands. Upon my return I noticed his knees shaking from being in an uncomfortable position for so long. I watched his cock bobbing, searching for something to rub up against, hoping for some particle to fall from the ceiling, begging for that proverbial single drop of water. I picked up the birch rod and tapped lightly his knees, and he made every effort to stop moving. I donned latex gloves and began my inspection. It was not as thorough as I wanted, for the Nubian's hot seed was leaking and I didn't want to deprive my pussieboy of a single spermatozoa. Two taps to the knee and he knew inspection was over. I didn't care that he looked confused, I wanted to be sucked clean and cum NOW, not later. Chaffernaught 04 Chapter 04: Leg of Lust On the way to my chair I whipped off my clothes, heels, blouse and skirt, leaving a trail Hansel and Gretel couldn't miss. Didn't need to tell joeie to strip, he was already naked, and like an eager puppy he met me at my chair looking happy as could be. I grabbed the chair's arm and spread my legs wide, turning my butt to his face. I expect joeie to clean my pussy and behind before I shower; it's the least he can do. "Snack time," I sang. In a moment joeie's tongue was lapping away at my behind, slathering up and down my crevice, his slurping loud enough to drown out the music playing in the background. He'd taken a butt cheek gently in each hand and opened me wide enough for his cheeks to slip between my thighs, his mouth reaching for pussy. I bent forward further to facilitate his endeavor. Instantly I felt joeie vacuuming my pussy, sucking up globs of sperm left by my Nubian Prince. My hungry pervert was taking it all in his mouth as fast as he could, guzzling it down like a last meal. Once joeie'd successfully cleaned his plate and pussy was emptied of sperm, his licks became gentle, teasingly so. Then he strained his neck to reach for my clit and begin sucking and nibbling. It wasn't long before his masterful lips and tongue elicited the first of many orgasms. With legs trembling, then trembling even more, I was forced to step backward, to fall, with joeie catching me as one would a cherished relic, slowing my descent, following without missing a lick, mouth glued to pussy. Soon I was breathless and kicked him away, then kicked him away again when he resisted, as I expect. Then I kicked him away yet again, when he tried getting his mouth on pussy again, and again once again, till he got the hint and went to my feet looking dejected and hurt, which made me chuckle, though not easily. I lay there, cleansed and spent, luxuriating in simmering sensations most inviting. joeie slid up my leg to wrap his arms around my thigh and begin humping, staring at my breasts. I looked down at my pussieboy, glad to see him where he belongs. Here was a male on a mission, humping away with his tongue hanging out looking hungry and deprived. If I'd the energy, I'd have laughed aloud at this pathetic creature's demonstration of male dependency. I was excited by thoughts of caging that beautiful organ soon, caging it once and for all. "Stop that, and get my shower ready," I managed to bark. joeie's blue eyes met mine seeking permission to continue humping, though he never stopped until I raised my voice. "Didn't your HEAR me you simpleton?" My voice was coming back, and I was able to be louder. With great reluctance joeie uncoiled his arms and cleaned the area of my lower leg used by my cock. Then he stood, wiping his cock clean with his hand, then licking the juice from his hand. He held up his hand for me to inspect, looking for my approval, and I nodded. He then turned, got down on his hands and knees and crawled toward the bathroom. I soon heard water running, so I got up slowly and managed to reach the table. A few puffs of my vape pen and a healthy slug of Old Grand-Dad, was all it took, and I was on my way to the bathroom. The bathroom was steamy and warm, just the way I like it. joeie was there, his eyes glued to my breasts, ready to part the shower curtain. With my breasts held up before his eyes I stuck my forearm in to test the water, and found it the perfect temperature. joeie offered his arm so I could climb up and into the claw-footed tub. Once under the water I pointed for him to kneel down and go to the corner. I watched my male, without being told, get into position, kneeling with his ass lifted high and his nose pressed tightly into the corner. I closed the curtain and began lathering my body, washing away seventeen hours of train ride, not counting the hour with my Nubian Prince. It's amazing what can be accomplished in cramped quarters, and I had the deluxe room! I peered between the shower curtains to give my pussieboy a thrill by yelling at him, demanding he get his ass higher so I could see my balls better, and nose pressed deeper into the corner. I snickered to his anus puckering tight while he struggled to comply. Of course there's absolutely nothing wrong with his positioning, but I have no intention of telling him that. After a bit I rinsed thoroughly, then turned off the water. This was my pussieboy's cue to fetch some towels and wait for me to part the curtains. joeie's arm was there, and as I grabbed it to step over the scrolled edge, he wrapped a warmed towel around my shoulders. He then placed a smaller one atop that, so I could wrap up my hair. Instead of letting him gawk at my breasts, he got a red-nailed index finger pointing back to the corner. I wrapped my hair and then toweled off. While patting my skin with hemp seed oil, I prodded joeie's ass with the big toe of my foot. "Higher," I bellowed as if upset, just to watch him jump. "And smush that nose into the corner!" I had to admit I was impressed by the way he wriggled his butt before becoming still, being able to get it no higher he yet tried. Truly I was succeeding with this male, finally. I shook my head in wonder, wondering if he realized he'd already had his ass high in the air, or did it matter to him? If he pressed his nose any further into the corner, I'd need a stone mason to get it out. I finished my routine and slipped into a mauve colored silk robe. "Get the towels and hang them up, joeie," I state, walking passed him. I seated myself in my chair and picked up my vape pen. Shortly joeie crawled to the entrance of the room and cleared his throat for permission to enter. After a minute I nodded and the poor dear crawled as fast as he could for my leg, to press his throbbing hard-on against it, while wrapping himself around it, imprisoning it quickly. I looked on feeling quite smug. "Easy there, champ. I just showered," I said in a very annoyed voice. "And is your dish beneath you," I asked as a way of pointing out a failure. He stopped to retrieve the dish and place it near my foot, beneath his boner as best he could, and began humping anew, with even more intensity. "I don't want any of your juices going to waste," I said in passing before going back to smoking. I let him hump away like the little puppy I've been spending the last few years training him to be, and now he actually wants to be. I ignored him while going about checking and answering my emails. Soon I was tired of the computer and decided joeie'd enjoyed himself long enough. I stood suddenly and he damned near toppled over. So intent was he on humping my leg I needed to shake him off, like one would any other horny dog. I giggled and turned around, lifting my robe to my waist. joeie moved immediately to my butt, parting my cheeks to lap at my crinkled rosette. I spread my legs wide for my obedient pervert, bending over the chair's arm for support so I could offer him a treat. Like this I'm able to enjoy his tongue wiggling its way up into my asshole after a well-earned reward. It's easy to please a real pervert. Chaffernaught 05 Chapter 05: Lookin' For Love In All the Right Places. I didn't want to stop joeie from making love to my butt, I didn't want to deprive him of the intimacy he so richly deserved, but it was more important he respect my authority. I was winded after another wave of orgasms, and my hunger was making itself known. I eventually caught my breath, after many short sporadic bursts that managed to puff their way from my lungs and out of my being. I ordered joeie to heel, but he continued slurping away, sending his tongue to record depths. What more could I ask of him, than to know he would suffer discipline rather than relinquish my butt. Again I yelled at him to heel, and this time he stopped after one last long wet and loving slurpy lick up my butt crack. He then came to my left side and knelt as best he could, his back straight, licking his lips. It was obvious his mouth was sticky from all he'd been chewing on, and I liked it that way. I released my robe and settled into my chair, studying joeie's wet red face, as he studied the outline of my breasts pressed against the silk, and continued smacking his lips. I made sure my nipples were hard enough to make an impression as deep into his mind as into the material. "My, you look attractive," I said through a giggle. joeie did his best to kneel straighter and smile brightly, making sure I could see my cock and balls. It appears as if joeie was about to say something when he opened his mouth, so I put my finger into the air. "Susssh! You are never to speak without permission! Now I bet you're thirsty, aren't you," I said, and joeie nodded. "Come closer," I ordered and joeie crawled right up to almost on top of me, his arms outstretched, hands on the seat, one on either side of me, actually hemming me in. It's moments like these, when he's hunkering over me, I come to appreciate what a magnificent male specimen I own. I took a large sip of Old Grand-Dad and motioned him to open his mouth. Then I opened my mouth just enough to let the liquid find its way into his. He gagged a bit because he's not much of a drinker, but I bet it tasted really good, though it probably burned. I let a bit more trickle into his waiting mouth and his gagging worsened. I swallowed the rest, coughing and choking with laughter. "Go to the kitchen and drink some water from your bowl, my simple pussieboy. Then you may fix me something to eat. And don't worry, mommy will feed you." The look of concern that crossed joeie's face was precious! I howled as I patted his head then watched his pristine ass wiggling off to the kitchen. I watched joeie moving around the kitchen, as it was the only room where he's permitted to stand upright, only when preparing my meals. It's one of the few times I don't interfere, because food preparation is one of his domestic fortes, but I do maintain a watchful eye. While he puttered around in the kitchen like a good wife, I smoked my vape pen pondering the evening's upcoming events through its swirls of gray. Scents most enticing were soon emanating from the kitchen. I was more than fortunate to find a pussieboy who was not only obedient, but who could cook, clean, and do laundry, and knew how to care for my fine silk garments. joeie was the perfect little wife. I was finishing the last bit of the Old Grand-Dad when I heard joeie cough, asking for permission to enter. "Come," I said as joeie bounded forward with a glass and bottle of wine in hand, I knew supper was following shortly. joeie also had silverware and linen napkins. He stepped out and returned quickly with a large steaming plate of fish and rice. I pointed to where I wanted joeie to sit, right on the floor beside me. The food was exquisite. The mahi-mahi was fall apart tender, the creamy butter sauce rich, the rice fluffy, and the broccoli crowns steamed to crunchy perfection. Between bites I parsed joeie's food and fed him with care. Using my fingers I made sure not a crumb fell from his mouth. I let him slurp warm water from the pewter mug I had made for just for him, while I sipped wine from a long stemmed Waterford. When the meal concluded, joeie cleared the table and washed the dishes, as I watched with a full tummy, puffed on a vape pen and sipped wine. He really was some find, and I was fortunate enough to collar him permanently before he realized what was going on, and before some other female hooked him. Oh I knew others tried, and joeie tried telling me about them, how they teased him, and how his shyness always ruined every opportunity, but I didn't want to hear of it. The newsy feminine side may have liked to hear the sordid tales, but the responsible Mistress and governess did not, besides those bimbos were after a husband. I was born to have my cake and eat it too, or more correctly, have my cake and then feed it to my pussieboy, living in the best of both worlds as I do. Thus you can see why it's my responsibility to give pussieboy adequate attention, as the only way of ensuring proper training, culminating in joeie becoming comfortable naked, on his hands and knees around strangers. After that, who knew? An invitation to the Pussieboy Sperm Eating Competition held annually by the sisters of Pi Loda Cum, that's all, and I've always wanted to be invited, every sister does. It's one of the year's top events. joeie was so adorable, and knew just how to pleasure me, and he improved constantly. I thought about keeping this one, as I usually let them go eventually, or swap. Dishes finished and kitchen back in order, joeie turned off the light and knelt on the floor in the doorway, clearing his throat to request entry. I let him kneel where he was looking at me, giving him the opportunity of contemplating how much he owed me for providing him sexual pleasures he would otherwise not have experienced, probably ever. Sexual pleasures I ration methodically, in carefully measured doses meant to keep his level of frustration unbearable. Like this he sees his entire life, all thought, and all experience as emanating through me via 'my' cock and balls. I spread my legs to bring my pussy, his font and my real man's gaping hole, to his gaze, and his eyes began devouring it like a pair of starving hyenas on a baby doe. I laughed and spread wider. After a few more puffs of the vape pen, and a swallow of wine, I nodded for joeie to enter. As if shot from a canon, he scurried to my left side and like a forlorn lover wrapped his arms round my leg to begin humping it. As he humped my leg he licked my knee gently, provocatively. I stood with joeie attached to my leg, and he only hugged tighter, more meaningfully. For my joeie it was like being on a date with his favorite high school sweetheart, and he began making out with my thigh, actually French kissing it. This was one of his favorite positions, one I encouraged openly. I wanted him to feel comfortable attached to my leg, to accept my leg as his lover, and he was coming along just fine. I'd never need worry where my joeie was when at a party. I was forced to walk somewhat awkwardly to the studio room, turning on lights as I traveled. "Down, boy," I ordered, once all was set. I looked down at my male and contemplated a little fun, but my own pleasure had to be put on hold, for now. He looked up at me without taking his lips from my thigh, until I raised an eyebrow and pointed to where on the floor I wanted him kneeling. He reacted quickly, first licking my legs clean. "Straighten that back! You don't have scoliosis, so there's no good reason for you to slouch," I screamed, wanting to throw a little fear into him. He responds well to my stern side, and tried straightening an already perfectly straight back. I walked to the edge of the room, to the rather large hook where my training implements hung. I fondled the leather of my embossed taws, promising she'd get her turn later, along with the switch, and riding crops, but it was my birch rod I chose. I placed a towel over a large pillow, then moved it close to where joeie knelt. I grabbed a handful of hair and draped him over the pillow with a single swift yank. "Surely you didn't think I forgot your indiscretion earlier, did you," I stated rhetorically. I nudged his ass with my foot until I was satisfied with his position. I leaned down and rubbed his cheeks lightly - they were creamy white, without blemish, and soft as rabbit fur. I stood, and with joeie looking up at me, a worried look on his face, began whipping the air with the birch rod, enjoying its song. "For each stroke, you are to count it aloud, and thank me for it. It IS for your own good, pussieboy. Got it?" "Yes, Mistress Colleen," came the timid reply. "Lift your head away from the pillow so I can hear you," I bellowed. "Yes, Mistress Colleen," came a louder response. "Good boy." With that, the birch met butt for the first time, and joeie jumped. "Stay still! What are you, a baby?" "Oh... one, Mistress Colleen. And thank you," joeie said, his voice sounding uneven. I started in, unconcerned with his suffering, but very concerned that he thanked me properly. By the sixth stroke joeie began sniffling, his voice cracking, and tears arose. With strike number eight, he was crying in earnest, but he never missed a count or a thank you. After the tenth foray I stopped to bring the rod to his lips so he could kiss it and thank me for helping him learn. He then laid still, head pressed into the pillow, trying not to bawl harder. Breathing hard from exertion, I picked up the bottle of hemp oil, put some in my hand, and rubbed gently each butt cheek. He gasped and squirmed a bit in my grasp, but never tried eluding me. His cheeks felt wonderful to my palms, hot and crisscrossed with the handiwork of my birch. His crying soon fell to a sniffle and then to an occasional large gulp of air. The silence was punctuated by the sounds of my camera as I began making joeie pose while taking disgustingly cute pics. Chaffernaught 06 Chapter 06: I Got The Blues For Red After admiring my craftsmanship and having saved it on camera, I came to stand in front of joeie. I looked down on his whimpering form yet draped over the pillow, sniffing and sniveling. I undid the tie to my robe, baring the front of my body, and reached down to once again take him by the hairs of his nape. I then yanked his head up, and true to form his eyes, blinking and blurred with tears, latched onto my breasts immediately. That my pervert is a true blue breast hound makes training easy. Baring a breast before him is like teasing a hungry mutt with a meaty bone, the only difference being a four legged dog will eventually stop begging. "You were a fairly good boy," I started, slipping out of my robe so he could look at my entire body. "The crying business annoyed me, but I'm certain it will stop, won't it," I intoned seriously. joeie nodded his head up and down quickly, his eyes wavering from my breasts long enough to travel the length of my body and back quickly, over and over. "So," I began, lowering myself onto a large pillow, "I've decided you may have a treat. For ten minutes, and ten minutes only, you have full access to my breasts. Just don't rip them off my body," I finished wryly, lifting my arms over my head while arching my back, bringing my breasts to prominence for my joeie. I wobbled them on my chest to further entice, my nipples swollen and hard, calling him. My turning from the sophisticated female iceberg joeie adores kneeling before, the woman he fears and respects deeply, into the hot blooded slut joeie will do anything to bring forward, to get his mouth and hands on, the woman my cock loves to be in the hands of, is a crucial tool in joeie's training. Mine are the only pair of breasts I permit joeie to see in the flesh, and after drooling over pictures and videos of breasts for a month or more while beating-off, my poor dear's more than ready for the real thing. joeie's eyes stayed wide, and he took several deep breaths, all while licking his lips and drooling in anticipation of getting his hands and mouth on his treat. I knew this was my pussieboy's dream come true, to possess my breasts, and I granted it sparingly. I then nodded for him to begin, relaxing my body for the coming onslaught, and closed my eyes to think of my good fortune. joeie jumped from the pillow and attacked like a ravenous vulture onto a carcass, and once attached to me began wallowing and rooting around on my mounds like an even hungrier piglet into slop. For ten minutes he tugged, sucked, mauled, and chewed my breasts and nipples with both hands and mouth, and all the while had cock humping my leg. Some of his actions I found stimulating and erotic, others extremely rough, and all were without restraint, much like those of my childhood sweetheart. My poor joeie acted like a prisoner just freed after years of captivity, and when time was up I had to fight him off, but then I knew I'd need to. I wiggled under him, and yelled at him to heel, but to no avail. This always happens when I let him go wild with my breasts. I squirmed for a while knowing how much he enjoyed feeling as if he'd succeeded as a hunter, the dream of every little boy, to take down tender game and chew into it. I then once again ordered him to stop, raising my voice in doing so, but to no avail. I finally took him by the hairs on his nape and in one swift yank, pulled him over onto his back beside me. I held him still, his arms and legs spread, his eyes straining to see me from their corners. I then caught my breath and pushed him away, and he knelt up, breathing heavily, staring at my breasts with a look of lust and hunger I've seen only in cult movies, but fortunately for me, it's a need of his I control. His cock was hard as diamond and drooling, having left my thigh coated in a shimmering chrysalis. "Clean that up," I ordered, pointing to the spreading, running juices on my thigh. "Every bit!" joeie knelt over and began slowly licking at his mess. I lay with my eyes closed, enjoying the sensations brought on by that tongue, an organ I've spent years training. joeie used long sensual licks, followed by tiny wet ones. His tongue swept over my skin in brazen sweeps, then followed with tender touches. He played for me loud slurps with audible swallows, all for me, joeie and his magnificent organ. It wasn't long before I felt the licks moving higher, up between my legs deeper. A few tentative licks reached for my pussy and I sighed deeply, spreading my legs a bit, granting him access. As I spread my legs he moved swiftly to between them to assert his rightful place, at the altar of devotion to worship pussy, my pussy, not a pussy he watches on a video, or a pussy he dreams of fucking, but the real thing. I allowed him total access because I wanted him to know this is his altar, and though men do things to it he is forbidden to even contemplate, it is the only one he may worship. I moaned with pleasure as his hands came to the bend in my legs, and I felt each leg picked up and placed over each of his shoulders, my feet coming to rest on his back. I moaned louder and went up on my toes, nails digging into his back, when he dove into my cum dump, in a feeding frenzy unlike anything witnessed by National Geographic. He spayed my sex open like it were an open papaya, sloshing and slobbering deeper and deeper after the meat. He was driving me beyond delirious, lifting and taking me atop wave after wave of euphoria that I surfed in a tailspin, while my pussieboy did what he does best. He moved to my clit and played it like the single string of a fine violin, teasingly. I reached for and grabbed his hair, pulling his entire mouth down on my sex, and held his head in place until another fresh rush of orgasms told me I had to stop. I needed to breathe before I busted a gut, or worse. I finally got up the strength to push his head away, removing my legs from his shoulders. As I lay catching my breath, joeie knelt on all fours, crouched down so he could easily reach and lick softly my sopping pussy. "Good boy..." I managed to breathe, "...but you're still getting ten with the taws." The licking stopped momentarily, then resumed more ardently, as though seeking forgiveness and reprieve. I opened my eyes, moving to take pussy away from him and stood. Finding my robe I slipped into it while yet wobbling. "Oh yes, my dear pussieboy, you earned a date with the taws by making me tell you twice to stop playing with my breasts, and to raise my voice the second time. We must break you of that bad habit before it gets out of hand. When I tell you to do something you do it! Period! End of sentence! No questions, no hesitation. God forbid you hesitate in obeying me when in public! I'd die of shame," I bellowed, looking angry. Oh how your perversion loved my cruel side! And what a great actress I am! "I will not tolerate an impudent pussieboy who will not listen," I finished in a stern voice. My gait a bit steadier, I walked to where my instruments were kept, and returned with my taws, restraints, and a spreader bar. "Stand up," I commanded. joeie jumped up and stood with shoulders square, hands at his sides. I went to the first wrist, affixing to it a custom-made leather restraint. Once in place and locked I did the same to his other wrist. I grabbed him by his cock and led him to just under a pulley imbedded in the ceiling, from which a length of hemp rope hung. I had him bring his wrists together so I could connect them with the end of the rope. I then grabbed the other end of the rope and pulled the line taut, until his arms were fully extended over his head and I could wrap that end of the rope round a belaying pin set into the wall, holding him fast. I then crouched down to attach and lock leather restraints to his ankles, to which I fixed the ends of a spreader bar. I stood to make the rope tighter, to insure my boy couldn't move. Then I checked the tension again and moved to stand in front of joeie. "Some people might think I'm being mean to you, punishing you twice on the same day, but you've really left me no choice. The slightest disobedience must be dealt with swiftly and properly, to help you learn. You, more than anyone else must realize I'd never be mean to you, right," I said, putting it to him in a rather soft, gentle voice suggesting my words had some deep intrinsic meaning meant for his ears only, making evident I'd never ever expect him to even consider otherwise. "Oh yes, yes, Mistress Colleen," joeie blurted out quickly and with sincerity. I smiled to his quick and sincere answer, caused by his strange perversion. joeie was happiest tending the used body of a woman, and that's all there was to it, I'm simply fulfilling his dream. I used to wonder where it was a person gets a particular fetish, back in my college days, when classes in philosophy and psychology drove me to poke and pry into the secrets of nature, and the human psyche. But now I'm older and more mature. Now I just accept what I find, and when I find a person with a fetish I can exploit, I do just that. And boy, did joeie ever fit my idea of a good find, a virtual gold mine of perversion. I've found no other male with so deeply an ingrained fetish, and I was exploiting it to the max. I looked into his eyes and smiled warmly. "You're my treasure, and making you happy is my only goal. And you know damn well I know what a boy like you needs better than you do, right," I asked like an actress on stage, forcing myself to assume a 'little girl in need of reassurance' look. "Oh yes, Mistress Colleen," he declared in earnest. I saw it in his eyes when I permitted him to watch me being fucked. Like a hungry hard working lad watching his favorite meal being prepared by his mother, he would stare, sniff the air, and salivate in anticipation of his reward for having been found by me. He must believe he's the luckiest guy in the world, because he doesn't know any better. I could daydream like this all day, but why dream when I can just as easily enjoy it for real. I again looked into his eyes and smiled warmly, assuring him everything would be fine. Then I brought him back to reality quickly. "You know the rules. Count every swat aloud, and thank me for it." I held the embossed leather taws in front of him. "See this," I asked, and joeie shook his head 'yes' while staring at the face of the taws. There, along its length were the words PROPERTY OF MISTRESS COLLEEN in raised leather letters. The characters were raised enough to leave the words imprinted in his skin. I wasn't sure how long the imprints would last, but that didn't matter. "What does it read," I asked. "Property of Mistress Colleen," he replied in a voice quivering with forced bravery. "Just exactly. And your ass cheeks will bear those very same words." I paused to study joeie, and despite what was coming, the worry in his eyes, his cock stayed rock hard, spewing long silken threads of pre-cum that swung and swayed their ways to the floor. I wanted to see his mouth filled with a man's sperm! Chaffernaught 07 Chapter 07: To Pee Or Not To Pee "Okay, big boy. Time to come down," I said, uncoiling the ends of the rope. I lowered him before unlocking and removing each wrist band, then bent down to unlock and detach each ankle cuff. I dropped my tools and had joeie pick them up to put them in their proper places. joeie soon returned to me to stand in silence, save for some leftover sniffling. He stood as I've trained him, shoulders square, arms at his side, cock pushed out to me, proudly. I had considered leaving him tied in position for the rest of the day, but decided against it. Since I'd be going out and had no idea when I'd be home, I didn't need to return tired and filled with fresh sperm only to be bothered with having to release my pussieboy before he could receive his treat. I wanted him ready and waiting, on his back, face ready for me to sit on, tongue ready to begin mopping, mouth opened for pussy to drain into. Yes, I'd require his services immediately upon my arrival. The raised letters from the taws left wonderful impressions of themselves, and were quite legible, crisscrossed as they were. After rubbing joeie's behind with oil I shot some pictures. I got some very nice ones of his ass, him kneeling and standing while holding it in the air and looking over his shoulder. I was pleased with the results and his obedience, very pleased. Despite tears and sniveling, which proved quite vexing to me, joeie posed like a real trollop. I even got some of us together, me and my trophy. I had him thrust his hips forward, so I could get great photos of my cock and bloated purple balls, all for the website. I zoomed in on its pulsating veins running along its length, and caught several long thick gobs of juice seeping from its hole. The poor organ vibrated and cried for me, appearing to be in agony, its balls bloated and about to burst, just the way I like seeing my darling. I do have a responsibility to touch it some, at the moment using only the tip of a finger to get it bucking like the untamed bronco it wanted to be. Oh, my cock! This male organ wouldn't win me any awards at a competition, but it was a superb example in both shape and function, and I was happy to own it. I'd never allow my pet, joeie's cock, to function as it was meant. I'd never allow it to experience sexual intercourse, or enjoy a blow-job. Through it I control my joeie's life completely, the poor boy doing nothing without permission. Through this wonderful organ I helped him become the best sperm slurping pussieboy I've ever owned, and with it I planned taking him further, without the slightest worry of reaching an end to his training. On the other hand I felt confident joeie's tongue would win me awards, along with his thirst for sperm, whether hot or cold. I'd worked long and hard helping him acclimate to the smell and taste of sperm, and planned that one day it would be my pussieboy's only source of nourishment. "It's time for you to pee, before I leave," I said. "Yes, Mistress Colleen," came the meek reply. I took my drooling cock in hand and with it guided joeie to the bathroom. "Hmmm, you're never going to pee with this hard-on, but I have a remedy," I stated. I then pinched my cock hard as I could, and within seconds, joeie winced as the excited organ became deflated enough to pee. I pushed joeie down on the toilet, making sure cock was aimed into the commode, having him sit like a girl. It took a few moments, but soon a long loud stream hit the water to play its sprightly tune. I watched and smiled as joeie peed, making sure he looked into my eyes while he did. Soon the splashing turned to a trickle, and then a few drops. "There, there, don't you feel better," I stated in a tone one would use potty-training a toddler, while washing and drying my hands. When joeie finished he too washed his hands. By then I found cock standing straight out, spinning webs of fluid, prepared for what every male organ is made for. "Ah, joeie, joeie, joeie. Just make sure you don't get any of your mess on my clothing. Now come along to my boudoir," I said leading the way. This particular room was off-limits to him when I wasn't there, and he knows it well. He learned his lesson the day I caught him kneeling before it, with his nose wedged up to the keyhole. My little pervert was sniffing aloud, attempting to draw the room's scent through the tiny hole, and didn't hear me approach. I was of course tickled pink to find him having progressed so well, but none-the-less punished him out of principle. joeie followed staying one step behind me, until we reached one of my closets, where he fell to his knees. He did this out of reverence for what the closet contained. He lifted his eyes from my breasts to look into mine, and beg. Here I keep joeie's favorite 'slut' clothing, designed to keep his faith in one day becoming a man, an obligation. joeie loved kneeling beneath all the daintiness, the silk, satin, lace, feathers, and fur, looking up running the tip of his nose into and along the delicacies, breathing in the intoxicating fragrances. I'd stand over him as a guardian providing his life reason, allowing him time to inhale gentle scents, closing his eyes in delirium, tying to imagine what it must feel like to fuck me in the same way he's watched men fuck me on the DVDs I've given him. Sometimes I reach down to scratch his neck, encouraging his surrender to his dream of fucking. I flung the doors open, thinking sure my cock would shoot, being as excited it was. We entered and I began fingering through the blouses first, slowly, giving air time to rush between each one only to be puffed out again, for joeie, who moved on his hands and knees below me, taking in very long, deep sniffs, while scatching the tip of his nose with the hems. After filtering along the row, I pulled out a cream colored silk blouse, and held it up for joeie to see. "What do you think," I asked aloud, to no one particular. joeie was in dreamland, eyes half-closed, my cock looking so neglected I felt sorry for it. I hung the blouse back, and went for a semi-sheer silk white one next. "Oh, I like this much better," I said gaily. Knowing my joeie was higher than a kite right then, I rambled on, giggling at my little sex addict, who's yet to have sex. "It will go nicely with my red leather skirt and black stilettos." I then gathered the garments and stepped back into the bedroom to dress, with joeie following like almost all baby four legged animals do their mothers, dumbly. "joeie, dear, go and fetch my shoes," I said, bringing him back to my reality. I slipped into the skirt as joeie jumped up to fetch the shoes. I then slid my arms into the blouse and turned to joeie, whose eyes had returned to where they belong. "Sweetness, do button my blouse," I said to him softly, holding my breasts up and out to him. I just adored the way he drooled over them, sure he'd never tire of them because they were the only pair I'd ever allow him to see in the flesh, ever. He pushed his hips back to avoid juices from cock reaching my clothing, or feet. I smiled as his fingers, quivering, tried to button each button. But then it began taking too long. "C'mon, you ignorant sloth! I'm going out tonight, not tomorrow morning," I roared. He tried working faster, but he fumbled and failed even worse. I finally pushed his hands away and finished buttoning my blouse. Then I tucked it into my skirt and slipped into my stilettos, making my way to the bathroom for a few final touches, joeie one step behind me. In the bathroom, I went to the tall armoire in the corner and removed a brush, comb and mousse, for starters. I then had joeie brush out my hair, and then go over it again with the comb. I then put mousse into my hands, and turning my head upside down, ran it through my hair. I looked up and into the mirror, finding my hair looking good. It was controlled enough to not look wild, but sexy enough to show I meant business. I grabbed some mascara and applied it slowly, following with just a hint of black eyeliner. joeie stood beside me agog, horny as a dog in heat, drooling as usual. I allowed him to drop onto his knees and bend low enough to begin kissing the top of my foot. He so adored worshipping my feet. I went back to work. Next I chose the shade of red lipstick matching my skirt, and after applying it, finished it with a deeper red lip liner. When satisfied, I dabbed Chanel No. 5 between my breasts and on my wrists. I chose my Cartier watch, and a few delicate gold pieces to compliment it. All the while joeie's lips teased and loved, caressing gently my foot, instep, toes and ankle, with warm, soft, long and short kisses, both juicy and affectionate, very affectionate. Every woman deserves to have a male at her feet, and I was truly a successful woman. I was quite proud of myself when it came to joeie, having discovered and exploited his perversion so successfully. Any woman can find a male to fuck, or marry, but to own a male is totally different. Birth and ownership is what women were created for. Males were put on earth to be owned and controlled by women. They're needed only by Mother Nature to provide diversification to the species, nothing more. Discontent, hatred, and wars came to humanity with the advent of the male ego and it's re-writing of history with its belligerent male-dominated holy books. In my case, my male was progressing nicely, becoming more affectionate and more passionate every day. The more I both sexually teased and denied my pervert sex, the harder he struggled to get close, the harder he worked at earning some small tidbit of female affection. More proof came one day when I had him hold his head back with mouth open so I could fill it with spit. When I finally made him swallow he actually ejaculated in tribute to me, without touching himself, and I was ecstatic. Soon his entire existence would orbit me. I looked down to find joeie looking up at me. I knew he liked seeing me this way, knowing full well I wouldn't look this way when I returned. "See all this," I began, running my hands from head to stiletto, pointing out the charms I wore and those I was born with. "I do it all for you, joeie, for you! I want to bring you home treats, and I can't find a man unless I'm dressed for the part. Do you understand that, my little pussieboy?" I glanced at him. "You may speak." "Oh, yes ma'am. I do understand, and I appreciate what you go through for me," joeie replied quietly. Inhaling deeply, he continued shyly. "Sometimes I'd, sometimes I'd like you to stay here for a while. So I could rub your back, or massage your feet? And... You haven't let me beat-off for a week..." "You mean to tell me I do all of this for nothing?! And all you think about is your own damned satisfaction and happiness! Are you really that selfish," I shrieked. "Don't you appreciate what I put my body through just for you!?" I was just beginning to get wound up, and though not really upset, made myself sound and feel real. "Oh, no, Mistress Colleen, no! I really do worship your body and appreciate every load of sperm you bring me," joeie interjected, trying to calm the tempest. "Really, I do! But... You haven't let me beat-off for a week..."" "Well you certainly don't act it! And you have done nothing, NOTHING, to earn the right to masturbate! Perhaps I should swap you for another pussieboy who WILL appreciate me," I screamed. joeie began trembling and his eyes became moist. He sniffled nervously and looked up at me like a frightened puppy. I stormed out of the room and into the studio. joeie appeared suddenly with a glass of Old Grand-Dad in hand, which I took from him wordlessly. He took a cigarette from my case, lit it, coughed a bit from the tobacco, and held it out to me. "Please Mistress," he began, falling to his knees at my feet, watching me take a gulp and a puff. "I never want any other woman but you. I promise to be good. Yours is the only female body I want to worship. You are my Mistress and Governess, and I will have no other before me," he cried. I swirled the liquid, drank again, and inhaled. Never would my little pervert know I've decided to keep him in my stable. After all, in a few months would be the Sorority's Pussieboy Competitions. And I planned on winning this year. Chaffernaught 08 Chapter 08: Riders on the Storm I sat at the small table smoking and drinking in silence, my leg dangling beside joeie. I looked down upon him, watching his every move, allowing him to kneel beside me nuzzling my leg softly. The poor dear, I kept him so damn horny it made me laugh, but a lady like me, who enjoys being fucked by real bulls, needs a little guy like joeie around, a virgin kept faithful through manipulation of his faith in knowing I'd soon bless him with that which he's always wanted, that which his male attributes demand, that which I'll never allow. Women have come a long way from my mother's day. Unlike her, stuck with a legal husband, I have joeie, a male who keeps my home spotless and my clothes perfect, who prepares all my meals, takes criticism well, and washes windows too! He helps me prepare for being fucked and cleans me up after every fuck, and he's developing a fine taste for sperm. Having a male like joeie is without any doubt a female's ultimate pleasure, if for no other reason than the fact he in no way interferes with my private life. It's another reason Mother Nature brought forth the male. The only problem facing a female is finding the 'right' male, and I don't mean Mr. Right. 'Mister Right!' Puah! Simply Hollywood nonsense. A woman needs a male who realizes his real happiness, and full potential, can be found under the authority of the 'right' female. Once found, his fragile male ego needs to be broken slowly, and so keeping my little guy horny guarantees he'll stay the little boy I want. My thoughts returned to reality with my last puff, where I found my poor joeie staring at my breasts, his body tensed and rigid. He was fighting himself openly, struggling to keep his hands away from my cock. Each hand gripped tight its nearest thigh, his strength, his obedience being tested to the limit. Here was my little Hercules, my hero, a Samson I need not shear. I giggled and decided joeie's little 'time-out' was over, and I had to get going. I decided to let joeie feel important by handing him my cell-phone. "You may call that taxi company I like and tell them I need a taxi in fifteen minutes," I ordered. joeie sported the cutest pout, that went well with his raging hard-on. He relaxed to my words, with a breath and sigh. "Number's listed under Pierre. Don't be surprised if they answer the phone with a different company name. Just tell them Colleen requests Pierre." joeie took the phone to find and tap the number. The poor boy was both happy to be doing something special for me, and yet sad to be helping me leave him to his frustration, alone. "...For my mistress Colleen," was the last thing I heard him say before handing me back the phone. "Well? You may speak," I said. "Pierre's on a call, ma'am, but he'll be here in twenty-five minutes. Sooner, if he can," he said quietly. For affect, I frowned to show my disappointment, but no other driver would suffice. "Well then, I guess that's that," I said, resting my vape pen in the Waterford ashtray. I sipped the last of the Old Grand-Dad and held the crystal out to joeie. "Refill, please," I demanded sweetly. joeie jumped up, boner bobbling up and down, spewing juices everywhere. He took the glass and disappeared only to return an instant later, setting the glass on a coaster and kneeling himself beside me once again. He appeared happy to find me in a better mood, due to the fact I was going out to spend the night collecting sperm for him. "Now I wonder what I can do for almost half an hour," I mused aloud, peering down into joeie's big blue eyes, blue pools of desire and need. I decided on a diversion for us. "Go and get your plate, slut," I ordered. He crawled the distance to the table on which his dish was kept, and turned with it in his hand, a big smile on his face. He held it up to me, trembling so hard he almost dropped it. He knew what the plate meant to us and how important it was to his worship of me. It was one of those meaningless objects a woman must learn to instill with mystery, fill with powers meant to captivate the spirit of a virgin male under her authority. For my joeie, this cheap glass plate of black was already akin to a keepsake, the first Christmas tree angel, a sacred paten upon which joeie lays his own seed for me, for my praise, when permitted. "Do be careful with my plate, you little fool!" "Yes, mistress I won't drop it. Sorry, ma'am." "No, you WILL be sorry if you break that plate! Now you may assume the position. And not one drop or strand is to hit the floor! Got it, princess," I asked aloud. joeie nodded eagerly and positioned himself with knees parted so my cock bounced above the plate, waiting for me to give him permission to begin. The lovely beast was quite a sight. Though I admit this little gem won't win me any awards for its size, it's long and relatively thick, with a bulbous head drooling in desire continually. This little fiend was situated above one of the finest pair of balls I'd ever seen, big, round and bloated. This was truly a whore's dainty finger sandwich, and that was all the more reason I wanted to keep it virgin. What a thrill, to own something this unique, a machine born to beg, bred to suffer, a cuddly Chihuahua to break, tame and domesticate. With the toe of my shoe I made a few adjustments here and there to the plate's position that really weren't necessary, but I wouldn't have him believing he'd gotten it right. When satisfied I told him to begin playing with himself, but not cum. A frown went fleeting across his face as his hand went to my cock and began masturbating ferociously. Oh what a champ he was, happy as a boy can get, lost in a chaotic sex-driven cosmos I create, beating off to the sounds of tribal drums most primordial. I always find him exhilarating to watch. He's really quite a sight, his eyes glued to my breasts, sweat coming to his brow, the sinews of his arms working hard, unconcerned with time or space, doing what he was meant to do, before the referee blows the whistle and stops play. I let him beat-off for the time it took for me to finish the bourbon, and it was almost time for the cab. I then nudged him with a stiletto. "Time," I stated, and I had to admit his reaction was immediate, proof positive that discipline does motivate. I no longer doubted the value of punishment. 'Spare the rod, spoil the male virgin' was a truism. His hand released my cock and dropped to his side, leaving the plate decorated in swirls of juice. Beads of sweat adorned his forehead like a laurel leaf crown meant for Nero. He was huffing and puffing, trying to steady his breathing, while his eyes stayed glued to my breasts. Poor cock was hard as a rock and swollen to the point of looking painful. "Stand. I want to see you," I demanded, and joeie obliged somewhat unsteadily. "Wipe my cock clean," I began, picking up my vape pen. I watched while he began by first bringing his hand to his mouth to lick clean, then returning it to my cock, where it circled the hardened organ carefully. I watched him pull my cock through his grip, scraping and collecting juices as it moved. That too went into his mouth. When he'd done as best he could, I had him kneel and get the plate so he could show me his offering. It was anything but a meager accumulation, considering I hadn't allowed him to ejaculate. I was pleased with the amount of pre-cum I had him producing, and the amount of sperm was more than excellent, more than I'd hoped for, with every ejaculation accounted for, saved on video, its particulars written down in a ledger, and the sperm sealed and dated in the freezer. I have him eating the sperm of other men, saving his for special occasions. I plan keeping such a record of each and every ejaculation joeie ever has. joeie licked the plate clean and showed me the results proudly. "You'll wash that while I'm out, and put it back where it belongs," I stated. joeie nodded respectfully. "And for god's sake be careful! That plate has been handed down to me and it's almost as important to me as it should be to you," I lied. "It gives you a very special place upon which to lay your gifts to me, in anticipation of losing your virginity. Took me months to find just the right plate for you to masturbate onto and lick clean. You may speak." "Thank you, Mistress Colleen. I'll always be careful with this," he said, holding it in two hands, with reverence. "Pierre should be here any moment. Slip into your jeans, the black ones, and a t-shirt," I demanded. joeie set the plate on the table's top, and proceeded to dress in the articles nearby. He started with a pair of specially altered black jeans. They lacked pockets and a zipper and came with a lock sewn into the material at the waist. He had to squeeze himself into them while wiggling the waist band over his hips till it reached and cinched his waist. The material and fit were perfect, with just enough give to allow them being wormed into and out of. Once tight round the waist I motioned for him to step closer so I could have the privilege of snapping the two ends of the lock together, taking up all the give required to remove the jeans. I'd had the jeans fitted with enough give in the crotch to cup my cock and balls and still hold them immobile. The seat was designed so its seam fit deep into joeie's crack, running its entire length. They looked as uncomfortable as expected, but my joeie's life is one of sweet misery, striving to win the love of his fair maiden. There was no way my little pussieboy could accidentally get to his cock and balls now, when I wasn't here. I was having a few more pair made, and needed a more permanent solution to controlling him, but it was taking time, as that was being custom-made from metal. joeie slipped into the lavender t-shirt, the one with the words HERS in silver glitter, on the front. The doorbell chimed, and I nodded for joeie to answer, as I turned off the vape pen. I had another in my purse. "Good evening, sir," I heard joeie say. I'd taught him to be polite to my guests, and warned to be especially so with Pierre. I slipped into my leather coat, making sure my cleavage was displayed, and picked up my bag. "Hey, no-fuck. You listen and listen good. I will phone you, not dispatch, when I'm bringing her home. You make damned sure you're waitin' for that call," Pierre hissed to joeie while I was approaching the foyer. joeie was nodding vigorously when I walked in. "Pierre," I exclaimed, falling into his arms so we could kiss passionately. I made sure to be wet and loud for my joeie's sake. joeie stood to the side with eyes wide, mouth hanging open. The front of his jeans were already saturated in pre-cum, as Pierre held me close. But Pierre was my ride to and from wherever I went on my nightly forays. He knew the right spots for my interests. And he was never far away if I got into trouble. Ah, yes, Pierre was invaluable! "Ready," Pierre answered, pulling away far enough to speak. He stepped back to eye me up and down, nodding. "I know just the place for tonight, Miss Colleen." "Simply devious, darling! Trust you to know what I'm looking for! So, lock and load, as they say," I said through a giggle, "emphasis on 'load'." I then turned, looked over my shoulder at joeie and winked, looking like a school girl on her first date. Then I became serious. "Behave yourself," I warned quietly, as we stepped through the door, Pierre taking my arm under his. "joeie, dear, don't snack too much. I'll bring you home a thick rich creamy treat." Chaffernaught 09 Chapter 09: The Penis Flytrap I had a land-line phone installed for joeie. I had it placed in the corner, on a very short cord, situated near the floor, close to his little mattress. The phone cord allows him to travel no further than the edge of his mattress. I have him trained to answer on the first ring, and God help him if he fails. The phone is a direct line to my cell, and alerts me when the phone leaves its cradle. It's also an unlisted number so only I should be phoning. On evenings like this, my joeie's forced to stay on his mattress near the phone, because he never knows when I'll phone, simply as a test. joeie is what I'd been looking for all along, he is why I returned to college, and he brings my life full circle, my sexual life that is. The way joeie and I have it figured, it's only fair that if I'm expected to have a boyfriend who fucks me whenever he wants, simply because joeie's perversion demands a slut for a girlfriend, then joeie is expected to remain faithful to me. We both agree joeie's perversion is a dream come true, like having our favorite cake and eating it too. If I must become a man's cum-dump for joeie, joeie must remain a virgin, allowing me to regulate his masturbation, while he keeps my holes free of sperm. I'd left joeie's cock in a terribly aggravated state this night, confined within a most uncomfortable prison of sturdy cotton denim. The material held cock and balls snug, and joeie'd find relief only when he stopped struggling and focused his mind on pussy, as we've been practicing together. I have joeie sitting for long periods of time throughout the day simply staring at my pussy and sniffing at it, learning. Our goal is to meld his mind, his heart and soul, with my pussy, making them one. That he's willing to be treated like that was all the impetus I needed. I'd confined his balls tightly, sure I'd left them ready to burst, like two water-balloons pressed beyond their limits. His butt-crack must be an equally uncomfortably hot, sweaty, sticky area, and I was hoping I'd achieved in making him more uncomfortable than ever, and that he'd make me proud and succeed at finding reprieve through maintaining a mental image of my pussy, nuzzling himself in her warm moist lips, devoting his whole being to her, his savior and redeemer. As uncomfortable as I made joeie, we expected pussy to bring comfort. I remember fondly how I found my joeie. I was young, newly divorced and at school, a happy go lucky fraternity pet having her holes used day and night while I looked for one of those special males, one who needs a woman's authority to round out their life. I knew it would take time, and found no reason to not let myself go during my hunt. Anyway, to make a longer story short... After going through a dozen promising males, all of whom fell short for one reason or another, I spotted my thirteenth prey on a Sunday while at the gun range with a couple rich fraternity bulls, real gun nuts. We weren't far from campus and he was in the next lane. As usual there was something about him that caught my eye, maybe the fact he wasn't shy about being shy, shooting quick timid glances at me after every shot he took. I was tickled by his way, and though he had a nice physique, his body movements and the look in his eye convinced me he was virgin. I try and find that out straight away, because it's one of my requirements. Seven of my earlier conquests proved to be otherwise, forcing me to discard them. I love to tease, and made sure he could see me smothered by the fraternity goons helping me learn to shoot in a most vulgar way. I smiled at him a couple times and each time he turned his head quickly, which I found endearing. When he thought I wasn't aware of him watching I allowed the jocks to handle me more boldly. He couldn't hide the fact he was embarrassed, and excited, extremely so, and every time I looked up quickly he jumped. I knew how to use my assets when encouraging bulls for service, both aggressive wolves and timid wiener dogs. I could find the brainless tools drooling over me at that moment by opening a can of swill lite beer, but I enjoyed being petted and pawed by men. I enjoy letting them get their ready spears between my legs for a fucking good time. I enjoyed several jocks getting together to use all my holes at once. What I lacked and needed was a male to train in the finer arts. A male who enjoyed caring for the female body in the proper way, both before and afterward. A male borne to fluffing and swabbing, and though there may be many of them in the world, it's finding the right one that's time consuming, but rewarding. After spending the night convincing myself I was right about this one, that he had to be a virgin, I decided he was at least worth a small effort to find out, so I started formulating my plan of attack. I needed to blitz him, confuse him, knock him off balance, and snag him with the promise of sex before one of the goody-two-shoes caught his eye. I planned to first find him at school, and woke up early, excited about getting my claws into him. I awoke in John's bed, so after I was finished with him and a few other frat rats, I showered and dressed for the hunt. It only took half the day to locate him, and by asking some of the guys I knew, found Billy who happened to know he was in chess club, because he too was in chess club. Billy knew little about chess but joined because he liked brainy woman, they were his quirk, his perversion. He found them easy prey and fun breaking them in sexually. He told me my prey's name was Joe, and he could have been a regular guy if he wasn't such a loner, and afraid of women. Since the chess members met every afternoon for an hour, I got Billy to take me with him that afternoon. I decided on wearing my tight pink sweats, my tight matching tee and sneakers, sans all underwear of course. I looked at myself in the mirror as I brushed my hair and applied red lipstick. I sensed Joe would take to my appearing both soft and stern. I planned teasing this one till he came in his pants. I just knew he could do it for me, and figured he'd already spent a lot of time masturbating to what he saw that Sunday. Too, he'd probably given up on ever seeing me again, so when I show up again suddenly, he should lose it enough for me to get my breast in the door. The chess club met in a small room filled with card tables upon which chess sets were arranged. Billy introduced me as a guest who wanted to learn the game. We decided I would sit with him and feign interest while I concentrated on Joe. Billy had arranged it so he played Joe. Sure enough, the shock of seeing me showed on Joe's face and jeans. He was speechless as he dropped his notebook onto the table, mumbling answers to everything Billy asked. I was excited by what I was seeing, and more sure than before I'd found what I'd been looking for. I felt like the person with a secret fishing hole, or more to the point, I felt like a Venus fly trap. Billy of course couldn't play chess well, but was a good bully and forced what part of Joe's mind wasn't devoted to staring at my breasts to setting up the board. I sat close to Billy holding my chest up to Joe purposely, making the invitation as plain as possible. Billy would look down at my breasts and make a quiet comment, then look to Joe and laugh, asking him what he thought. Poor Joe was at a loss for words, and mumbled what he could, while having trouble setting up the pieces. I simply sat there in front of Joe, in Billy's arms, smiling warmly at Joe, while Billy felt me up. He made it as difficult as he could for Joe to take his eyes off my breasts. Billy made my being mauled like the most natural thing in the world, and Joe was obviously confused, torn internally between some deeply ingrained moral precept and his cock, both of which I would soon rend asunder. The other people in the room were preoccupied and Billy had chosen a corner table, with Joe facing the room so Billy and I would be obscured to all but Joe. Joe set the board up eventually, after fumbling with the pieces while he watched Billy abusing my breasts. I looked into Joe's eyes deeply and like that held him tight. It was easy for me to see he'd never yet been able to face a female with sexual interest in him, and without prior experience, the poor boy had little recourse but to enjoy with me what Billy was so rudely doing. I stifled every need to laugh as I started demonstrating to Joe just how much I enjoyed being pawed, begging with my eyes for him to enjoy the scene I was playing just for him. Joe sat dumbfounded but lost, and all thumbs. After watching Billy maul my breasts through my pretty pink tee, Joe finally gave up on the game, picked up his notebook and excused himself to stand and leave. I thanked Billy and raced to follow. Chaffernaught 10 Chapter 10: Snap I followed Joe to a less crowded area, where he slipped into a men's room. I was sure he'd chosen this particular john because of its remoteness. I felt positive I was right about Joe, that he needed to masturbate after what he saw. Giving him enough time to get comfortable, I looked round and found the hall empty, to which I opened the bathroom door to look inside. I scanned the stalls and located his pants bunched round his shoes beneath the door of the last stall. I grabbed a sheet of paper off the nearest bulletin board and slipped inside. Moving swiftly I darted into the stall next to his and sat. Knowing my actions would interfere with his masturbation I began wrinkling the sheet of paper to appear unaware of his presence, giving him a cover to work behind, and it worked, because in moments I could make out the distinct sounds of male masturbation. As his sloshing became louder and breathing heavier, I became quieter, so I could listen, while balancing carefully his breaths and strokes to the noise I was making. Eventually his strokes became louder along with his breathing, and it became obvious to me the need to ejaculate was overruling all other concerns, including me. I got very quiet purposely and shoved my hands under the waist band of my sweats, to send my fingers into my weeping sex to begin masturbating along with him, while listening intently to the wonderful sounds of my future male masturbating, thrilling at the idea of one day regulating each and every one of his strokes. I found his sudden crescendo of shallow breaths leading up to ejaculation every bit as exciting as the sounds of his ejaculation itself. I wondered where he was shooting it, in the commode, his hand, the floor, or up against the door? I successfully rolled with an orgasm of my own about the same time. Afterwards, his sigh of relief and satisfaction actually caused me a tinge of jealousy, which made me realize how much he meant to me already. I actually believed he'd been unfaithful to me by masturbating, and I didn't even know him yet. Not wanting him to catch me, I got up and slipped out to await his exit. I was now surer than before about him being virgin. After leaving, I followed Joe to a quieter, less crowded, almost isolated part of the quad, where he found a bench and sat down. It was an enjoyable spring-like day and I watched him look around before opening his notebook. He appeared to be sneaking, staring in awe at whatever he had there, as if he didn't want anyone to see. At that I moved in quietly, intent on seeing what it was. Moving up to him from behind a tree, I waited till he seemed most engrossed and then I pounced swiftly, coming up to drop my arms onto the top slat of the bench beside him, actually brushing against his shoulder. The poor boy nearly jumped out of his pants realizing I was suddenly upon him, but before he could slam his notebook shut in embarrassment, I saw what it was that interested him so, pictures of Sophia Loren, in bathing suit and nude. I was very happy to find him with pornography, and wondered if he was addicted. If not, he soon would be. I pretended to be as surprised as he was. "Hey, stranger," I said running round to plop myself down on the bench beside him. Squeezing my breasts together seductively I turned then to him. "Sorry if I ruined your chess game earlier," I said looking at him from under my lids, as if shy, but intent. I wanted him nervous while I sunk my nails into him slowly, firmly. "Oh, no, you didn't," he lied in a murmur. I leaned against him, rubbing the breast nearest him against his arm. He'd broken out in a sweat and was trembling noticeably. I liked this male more and more. "I apologize for Billy. He does act rude sometimes," I said. "Yes, that's just how he is," he replied. "I hope the way he grabbed my breasts didn't bother you," I said looking down at my breasts and then up to Joe. "No, nnnnot really," he stuttered. "You probably already know that girls like to have their breasts grabbed," I said taking one of my breasts in hand to begin mauling it. I watched Joe carefully, and his reactions were perfect. He sat there mesmerized, watching in utter awe, like a little boy at Christmas, trying to guess what's wrapped up in the best gift. "Well..." Joe sputtered, his mouth so dry he could hardly speak. I reached down for the hem of my tee and used it to yank the material up and over my breasts, baring both to Joe. His look convinced me these were the first real pair he'd ever seen. "Well," I asked as if confused by his silence. I moved my entire body like an enchanting snake, lifting my breasts to this poor befuddled male. My nipples were hard as ever tempting him to touch, and I was having trouble controlling myself, which would never do. Not wanting to spoil this fine catch I covered myself just as fast, and changed the subject to throw him further into disarray. "You're a pretty good gunner," I said, catching him off guard. "Ah... huh? Ya, thanks," Joe said, not knowing what to say. His eyes were still glued to my breasts. I kept lifting and lowering my chest, watching and judging his responses. I knew Joe was ripe for the picking, and the pickling too. After some struggle his eyes finally came back to mine, and I had to laugh just a little, he was so naive. "My name's Colleen," I finally said, with my hazel eyes now controlling his blue. Wanting to take the reins early in our relationship, I didn't give him time answer. "Well, don't you have a name," I said pretending to not know his. I was taking control gently. "Joe," he blurted out almost incoherently. I was going to have fun with this one. "Pleased to meet you, Joeie," I said. "What are you doing tonight," I asked, wiggling into him. I then swabbed my breasts against his upper arm, allowing each one to flop from one side of his arm very slowly to the other. He held his breath as each breast washed across and over his arm, and only afterwards gasped, to begin breathing again. The poor boy was beside himself, shaking in his seat, and I was happy as a lark. "Ah, it's Joe," came some automatic type response I felt wise to counter immediately. "Joeie," I stated with a smirk and a little more forcefulness, not wanting to scare him away. "My mom always called me Joey," he said looking sad. "Well to me, you're Joeie! That's J O E I E! not J O E Y," I said in a stern but playful voice. "With a lower case j!" joeie's eyes fell to my breasts again as if to signify his acceptance. I was sure he'd be going back to the stall after I left. "Excellent. Now, what are you doing tonight, joeie? Or rather, what were you doing tonight," I asked. "The Constitution Analysis group is meeting this evening," joeie said. "Oh, nothing pressing then," I answered nonchalantly, following his eyes' path to my breasts and my nipples particularly. I smiled to myself and held them up to him. He almost jumped back. "Well, I'm having a little soiree, and I'd like you to attend. It's very casual, so wear a pair of sweats and tee-shirt, and shoes. No underwear or socks," I said. He looked at me, perplexed by my request. "Huh," he asked. "Be at my place by midnight, okay," I stated rather than asked, grabbing a pen from the pocket of his shirt. "Um," was all he could muster. I could feel him wavering and needed to finalize this immediately before his fear of women turned him coward, so I grabbed his trembling arm in my one hand and wrote the address and time along its length. Then I finalized the arrangement by leaning forward to place a gentle but moist kiss on his lips. I could have sworn he came in his pants at that, but if not, he soon would. "I can trust you, joeie, can't I," I asked like a damsel in distress. "It'll be our first date," I said like an undertaker hammering in the last nail. "Ah... uhhh... Yah, yes, I'll be there," he sputtered, out of breath. "By the way. Don't be embarrassed, but tell me," I whispered in his ear. "Have you ever slept with a woman?" I could feel him swallow and gasp, while forcing myself not to laugh. He shook his head no, and that was enough for me. I wasn't going to ruin things now by making him admit it aloud. All that mattered is he was virgin. To say I was ecstatic is to say nothing. I gave him another quick kiss and stood to leave, sauntering away with as cute a rhythm as I could. I waved to him from over my shoulder, and caught him getting up to leave. I knew where he was going, but had what I wanted. My plan was to have him show up at my apartment after the gang-bang, after all the boys left. One thing life taught me about a male virgin is the importance of introducing him to the type of sex you plan expecting from him during the life of your relationship. I wanted my joeie to find me well-used on our first date, a treat he must come to expect, want, and desire more than anything else in the world. Chaffernaught 11 Chapter 11: Trick and Treat I'd never been more excited about a male before, and I certainly didn't know why. It wasn't the same type of feeling that led me to the guy I married. Looking back, those feelings were juvenile in comparison, more my mom's than my own. Those feelings no longer fit with modern society and my life became one of trying to fit round blocks into the square holes, and hammering caused more problems. These feelings I'd acquired for joeie fit in with modern life perfectly. The sixties gave us the pill, liberating us sexually, but left us wavering forward ever since, till now. The fellows left after fucking me silly for the last three hours, leaving me filled to the gills with a treat for joeie. I enjoy feeling like a female boa constrictor with several male constrictors wrapped around her all night, all trying to fuck her. Problem is, the poor female serpent only allows one male to fuck her and in only one hole. Anyway, it was five minutes to twelve and if I was any judge of males, joeie would be right on time. I figured giving joeie a worst case scenario on our first date, and deal with the consequence. I was a mature woman now, who, simply put, knew what she wanted and knew how to get it. I staggered out of bed to stand before the mirror. 'Damn, I'm a mighty fine piece of ass', as the frat boys tell me, and I had to agree. I have one of the finer bodies at the gym and at twenty-nine, have one hell of a well-toned body. I work diligently for it. Having forestalled having children has paid off in more ways than one. For starters, I'm proud of my breasts, a meaty pair of tits that don't sag, real boy bait. My joeie would be here any minute and I smiled at what I was about to present him. I was about to reel in the catch of my life, so I pulled my shoulders back and held my breasts up. I slipped into my four inch red heels and checked myself out in the mirror. My hair was a real mess, going out in every direction, and it was streaked with threads of sperm. My face, neck, and breasts were splattered with drying sperm, and decorated with hickies and red blotches. Long streams of sperm ran the length of my body, from chin to toes. It oozed from the corners of my mouth, my pussy, and my asshole. God I was one hell of a cutie, a pervert's dream. Taking a few moments I staggered around lighting a few candles to provide a romantic atmosphere for my joeie, then turned off the harsh incandescent lights. I re-applied red lipstick to accent my red nails and shoes, to round out the picture. Red, in contrast to my black hair and pale skin, always inflames the heart of a horny male. A boy like joeie, who hides in the bathroom to masturbate, isn't the type to seek women, but rather hides from them. I'm sure that boy has been praying for some woman, any woman, to show an interest in him, regardless of how she presents herself to him. Poor joeie had no idea what he was about to become. It was precisely midnight when I heard the knock and walked with confidence to the door to look through the peep hole. Seeing it was joeie I picked up a small glass filled with sperm and took what I could in my mouth, then opened the door and presented him with his first look at a naked woman in the flesh, albeit a well-decorated woman, but how would he know. There he was, my joeie, dressed in a pair of white pants and white button-down long-sleeved shirt, with a powder blue tie and brown penny-loafers. I almost lost what I had in my mouth. He came dressed as a soda jerk and I looked like an ice cream sundae. Tell me the fates didn't bring us together! Though not dressed as I asked, I let it go this time. He looked stunned, to say the least, but having never seen a naked woman before appeared unable to decipher what he was looking at, or speak. He stood there like a deer caught in a bright head-light, frozen stiff with mouth open, his eyes wide darting up and down my body as if lost in delight and trepidation. I didn't dare give him time to think or react, and immediately called him to me with a finger, and like a robot he obeyed, a male without choice, slipping willingly across my threshold into the silk cocoon prepared just for him. Some may ask why joeie didn't turn away and leave, but others know how desperate and lonely life can get for a male virgin swept up in the modern oversexed world. Fate brought this desperate boy to me because I am in every way his exact opposite. I stood before him as the first woman, Lilith, a goddess, making him walk to me. I helped him to put his arms around me and pull me to him as I pressed my body into his gently, so he could experience the softness of a real female, my breasts, belly, and thighs. I looked up to him with eyes filled with desire, lips calling his. I brought my lips to his, so he could kiss me, and it seemed he forgot everything else. As our mouths pressed and fit together I opened my eyes to watch, as I slowly, ever so slowly, began feeding him a little of the sperm. His eyes popped open and saw mine looking into his, demanding his surrender. I let mine flutter to half mast, as if swooning in his arms, to his magical kiss, giving his delicate ego the boost it needed to keep him where I had him. His eyes closed again and I slipped him a bit more sperm, but his eyes stayed closed, and I was on pins and needles waiting. Then suddenly, finally, I sensed his first swallow signaling my victory, and I breathed easier. The poor boy was truly excited, probably more so than ever before. From what I could feel throbbing against my lower belly, he was about to cum in his pants. I was excited by his acceptance of what I offered him and happy he found my kiss so sweet it made the sperm go down easy, just like the song says. He was probably out of his mind right then, one foot in heaven the other in hell, with me his only bridge to sanity, where I wanted him. I moved my very soft ripe female flesh against his body, and the poor dear hugged me as one would a childhood doll, as if for life. It's true what they say about boys, that they stay boys, and a woman simply needs treat one like a boy from day one. joeie let me melt in his arms like warm cotton candy in the sun, his own clothes soaking up sperm from the front of my body. He held me tight, experiencing something he'd never in his life imagined possible, making his swallowing of Satan's brew easier. He continued with eyes closed to work his lips to mine, opening them wider and wider, first accepting and swallowing the sperm, and soon using his tongue to find more. He swallowed all he received, as I allowed him to continue kissing me, allowed him time to experience what he only until then imagined. I let him use my body like a rag, as he continued making out with me. I simply relaxed and held my mouth opened wide, allowing his tongue to rid my mouth of all stale cock and sperm taste, while I planned how to proceed. Already, after just a few minutes I no longer needed to encourage my joeie. My joeie was now on automatic. I'd planned never using more encouragement then needed, but this was beyond my dream. All I needed to decide on was what type of encouragement to use and how often, a bothersome detail that time would help me work out. I was also right about feeding my joeie sperm right away. That proved the right course of action to take because it's usually the most difficult hurdle. Fortunately for me, my joeie's a desperate male, more so than the others had been. This boy's ripe and ready for picking, and pickling. I started moving backwards into my apartment with joeie in tow, unwilling to let me go, clinging to me like ivy, slobbering away in my mouth. I soon had him in far enough to close the door behind him, and I realized right then and there just how easy it was to move, even with my joeie holding me as he was. It was like dancing, and I easily maneuvered him to where I wanted him. joeie was lost to his new found passion, me. joeie was absorbed by his new found possession, me. I was soon to be his most prized possession, but one he would end up being caretaker for and nothing more. I was going to really start enjoying life now. Chaffernaught 12 Chapter 12: Pussy of His Dreams While my joeie reveled in his new found experience, I took moments to relax. I looked past my young charge to our shadows on the wall, and played a game of 'what is it'. I was pretty tired after three hours of sexual use, though I was even more tired of reeking of sperm. But I was finally doing something about that. This little soiree was sure to leave me exhausted in the morning and I may miss my first class, but I'll have my joeie. I haven't yet touched my joeie, or held him once. My success with my joeie has come from giving his most primitive male drive an avenue of expression, an escape from the great primeval void in which it's been lingering in psycho-chains of morality his entire lifetime, shivering in the darkest cold corner of my joeie's unconscious mind. I felt confident in my decision, sure I'd easily ride, break, and tame this would-be beast without ever touching my joeie. My joeie was no Pandora's box, but a beautiful music box I've purchased at auction, the great auction house of life, before some immature bimbo snatched him up to make him a husband and father, without understanding what she'd gotten, a boy, and he came complete with lock and key. I have no plans to spoil my joeie as I did my husband. I plan touching my joeie only as much as I find necessary, and no more. I opened my eyes to watch when I realized my joeie was about to take another step. Like a typical male animal driven to mate, my joeie moved his mouth from mine in search of more pleasure, to my neck which I made available by stretching. He went for my flesh like a starving shark after some delicacy, in the most sloppily indelicate fashion, becoming more like a man by the second, which I was prepared to rein in when necessary. I certainly did not want him to consider himself any more than my joeie. My joeie clung to me like no man ever had, pressing his body to mine, struggling to get his legs around me, though we were still standing. This was a new high for him, a first, and another milestone for me. I realized leading this male down the garden path was going to be easier than I imagined. I wouldn't need to push or pull, but protect as he bounced from side to side. I was excited to find him wound up so tight. He couldn't hide his excitement, or how ready he was to jump up and run to the nearest john to masturbate, except for the fact he held me in his arms and didn't want to let go. Without me in his arms he'd have given me some excuse about needing to pee. I planned keeping him wound just tight enough, winding and unwinding him as needed, and at the proper speeds, so I needed to eventually take from him control of his masturbation. I smacked my lips and breathed in air, impressed by how mint fresh my joeie's left my mouth. I'd never go to bed smelling or tasting sperm again. While I contemplated my joeie's future, I teased him by wiggling and squirming in his grasp like a warm cuddly animal he didn't dare lose. I reveled in the way he struggled to hold me, keeping me from slipping free of his grasp. I wanted him to feel it, to actually feel as if he was having a profound effect on me, while I peered over his shoulder to play 'what is it' in the candle's flickering glow, and reflect on the reflection of his back in the mirror, with a big smile on my face. The poor dear was still fully clothed, and I debated with myself about how far to let him go this first night. My joeie was definitely overtaken by his animal nature, driven out of his mind by the need to experience that which he imagines a man experiences with a woman. I wondered if he'd notice the difference between how real couples act, and how he's being trained to act, and would it matter? It would be too late by the time he figured it out. My joeie slobbered his way to the other side of my neck. My joeie stopped chewing and nibbling my neck to look up at me. Pretending to just open my eyes I looked down between us, at the tops of my breasts, to several dried streaks of sperm, and then up to him with a pout, and low and behold, he wasted no time in bringing his mouth to each streak. The next thing I knew he was doing what must come naturally to him. He started taking on one streak of sperm at a time, from where it began to where it ended, sometimes to my toes. He was diligent, careful, and complete. I stood as if on a pedestal, bathed by his tongue while he moved his mouth up and down my body, along with his hands, without once releasing me. Once he stood before me again I took the opportunity to bring him down with me, for another new treat. I fell back onto my bed, onto sperm streaked satin sheets, maneuvering him into a kneeling position above me so he could continue feeding like the pervert he's quickly becoming. I sensed my joeie believed he was in heaven now, lost in the wonderland of my soft firm shapely body, his mouth and tongue swishing and swiping away at my soft warm flesh, the juiciest and most delicious pear he'd ever tasted, the only one he would ever taste. I looked down at him as he licked, lapped, and sucked away like a happy puppy, under and around my breasts, stopping to look at and then kiss one of my nipples. I acted the tart when he rolled his eyes up to mine, while resting his lips atop my nipple nervously. I even hammed it up for his ego by letting out a long sensual 'yes', without laughing, as if I had no other choice but to allow his demand, and he took the bait, immediately sucking the entire nipple and a good portion of my breast up into his mouth. I looked down at my hungry sex-deprived joeie, as he attempted to swallow my entire breast, like a boa swallowing an animal too large for its mouth. I kept my snickering soundless, reveling in his abandon, allowing him to wrestle with first one breast and then the other. Like a hungry boy chewing on wads of taffy he slobbered away, while rubbing himself against my leg in a growing frenzy. I didn't want him to ejaculate, and thought of repositioning him, when his natural instincts to enjoy his first female sex overruled his need to hump. Like a pig after the great French truffle he lifted himself off me just far enough to slide down my body to begin ferreting out his reward. I could feel his disappointment at having to take his cock from my leg, so to lessen his sorrow I arched my back, bringing my charms into prominence, encouraging him with sensual movement and moans only, to go for what he least expected, a pussy full of sperm. I almost felt sorry for my joeie, to have his first sexual experience tainted by me, but I believed he would be happier in the long run under my thumb. His hands moved down my sides while his tongue skated over my belly, stopping briefly to slurp what he found in my belly button before reaching his destination. He pulled his head back far enough to look at my sex, the first he's ever seen. Regardless of what he saw, he saw what he's going to see often, and has always wanted without realizing it. If all went well, now he would forever need a well-fucked pussy to make him happy. He looked in awe upon a hairless well-used gaping hole, sopping wet and dripping with sperm, probably wondering what to do. I suppose he thought about undressing, of driving his cock into me the way he's seen done in magazines, but now he was afraid and it was time for me to take more control. I didn't want to lose him, so I forced my hips and legs out of his grasp and lifted them in the air. I reached to catch the backs of my knees in my hands and spread myself wide before him. He knelt there staring at the feast I'd laid before him like a good wife does for her husband. There it was before him, my pussy and asshole, opened wide and cream filled. I almost laughed but checked myself, watching his face, glistening in drying sperm, moving closer slowly, timidly, as if he was now unsure. I knew those terrible moral reservations would pop up every once in awhile to challenge my authority, so I decided to squelch this one immediately, and when he looked up at me in askance, I spoke in a firm but authoritative voice. "Now!" And that's how my joeie met the pussy of his dreams. Chaffernaught 13 Chapter 13: Shush While still at college I learned man is a product of nature meant to provide diversification to the species, ensuring survival in cases of otherwise mass extinction, and little else outside of killing and destroying. Men, if left to themselves, inevitably sink to the lowest level, becoming a terrible unchecked weed choking the life out of other species, driving everything around them into extinction with what they consider grandiose creations, though man has never created anything other than psychic-Babylons, allowing their frail little egos access to fabled powers beyond that of God or sanity. In reality man's frail ego-driven mind can't do much more than tear down all around it. Tonight Pierre brought me to visit Timothy, my ex, for my monthly stipend and his romp in the sack with me. Unlike how Timothy was when married, he's now a subdued ogre around me, tame as a kitten. He no longer presents himself as a macho man toward me, the jerk I'd tolerated through a year of marriage. He now throws his manliness down on his girlfriends. This month's flavor is Suzy. As with all his 'broads', this dumb bastard finds it important to use her as a way of impressing me, in the only way he knows how. Suzy was like all those after me. She's everything I was not, am not, and never will be. To begin with she was blonde, wore too much make-up, and foolish enough to be obedient and not interfere with his Neanderthal simplemindedness. At six foot three inches tall, two hundred sixty-nine pounds, he easily dominated this bosomy little thing, as much for my benefit as for his ego. Like a tomcat fresh from the alley bringing a mouse home to impress me, he controlled this frail ninety pound, four foot nine inch tall creature like you would expect an armed gladiator to treat a naked slave. I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for the money, and for what I hate to admit, the fact I have one very weak, very small but perverted streak running through me that he knew about, and liked tickling. Suzy was a delicate flower who had trouble walking in her five inch pumps, much to our amusement. She had long thin well-turned legs that continued trembling as she worked. Except for pink pumps, she wore a tiny pink apron that couldn't conceal her large breasts from rolling out from side to side as she served. She also wore a frilly maid's tiara. She wore her hair in a bob framing her painted face with its pouty pink lips, her green eyes ever lowered in front of me. She also sported a pink collar. I couldn't help but allow my perversion to play along, by touching and caressing her in rather rude ways, while degrading her verbally. I found their relationship amusing but the food quite excellent. Here I was once more sitting before my beer swizzling jerk of an ex, eating a well-prepared meal served by a sexy maid. When Suzy set the shrimp cocktails down before us, I realized Timothy's blind mother was still in the kitchen, but had probably retired for the evening as she does before I arrive for my once a month romp. Most wives may have found a live-in mother impossible, but things would have been worse without her. Timothy hated when I convinced his mother to stay topless one day. Timothy and I sat on either end of a short dining room table, me dining, Timothy eating, Suzy serving. It was a rather tedious and yet exciting time all at once. As usual I enjoyed the food. It began with the shrimp, followed by broiled African lobster tail with drawn butter, and spinach on the side, his mother's favorite dish. Suzy served us rather strong margaritas and the he-man Timothy was getting drunk while I teased him by insulting and deriding openly his newest cutie. I considered how much fun it would be for me to find a Suzy for my joeie, once I caged his cock. The more I drank the ruder I got, the happier Timothy got, and the closer to a climax Suzy got. It's always these small things that help him to write the check. By the time Suzy served the Baba au Rhum, Timothy was ready for bed, and the coffee was left to go cold. I like being fucked by a dumb rough man who can't do anything else, especially with his girlfriend forced to watch. It does a real woman good to be fucked good, especially when she has a boy like joeie. As a well-rounded female, I've balanced the ignorant lout with a down home obedient soft mommy's boy. I've come to enjoy being abused sexually more than ever before, now that I have my joeie. I've had my joeie under my thumb for seven months now. Seven months ago I began training him as my pussieboy and since then he's come to enjoy the taste of sperm more and more. I enticed him with the promise of soon experiencing sexual intercourse. Then, six months ago I allowed my joeie to experience sexual intercourse for the first time. Well, it was sexual intercourse as far as my joeie was concerned. I had him marry my left hand, whom I bring along with me when I visit to have my body drained, bathed, and fed. I've even had little nighties made for my hand to wear while my joeie fucks her. My joeie is blinkered by his fetish, and doesn't know any better. Five months ago I used money from my ex to buy myself a small home for my joeie. Now I have a place to come and go as I please. A place my joeie is expected to keep neat and clean, my bed and surroundings fresh. A place my joeie finds large pictures of my pussy decorating the walls for him to meditate on. A place my joeie can watch videos of my sexual escapades. A place my joeie knows he is always watched by cameras throughout the house. A place with a single line-phone connected to my cell-phone. A place I go when sperm filled, hungry, or dirty, where I always find a warm cozy bed and sex starved hungry pervert to feed, for intimacy There's also Pierre, a healthy young unhappily married dude and his cab company. This Polish Don Juan will do anything to keep my affections. As a result his cab is virtually available to me 24/7 for my personal use. Since I'd gotten what I'd come to school for, school's simply become an easy egress to the largest collection of cocks, the fraternity. A virtual merry-go-round... no... a playground filled with exciting rides, big dumb abusive sperm spewing fuck machines, a real Dizzy Land to a natural born slut like me. Before I found my joeie, getting fucked was like getting my fix, simply a need fulfilled and no more, which I often considered a poor reason even for a woman who knows what she wants. That changed immediately after finding my joeie. My joeie gives me reason to fuck and brings meaning to my being a woman. Now, when I date, I feel like the great mother bird collecting gobs of pabulum for her baby bird, performing as Mother Nature herself does, with love and affection, storm and turbulence. That first night with my joeie proved an exciting challenge and totally worthwhile. While I lay back in my bed, surrounded by the aroma of sperm, my legs spread wide in the air, my joeie spent almost an hour with the front of his face wallowing into my pussy, his tongue sloshing and swabbing around inside me, in a most satisfying show of male agility. My eyes were ready when his opened to look up at me, his filled with pride and mine with the look of surrender, meant solely to bolster the poor boy's ego, to spur him on. My joeie continued ferreting around in his new found love until I was ready, until I spread my legs wider, until I reached down to grab a handful of hair at the nape of his neck. A simple woman may glide her hand round the neck of the male she's fallen for, her fingers tickling the back of his neck, teasing the hairs, coaxing him gently to move, but I take possession of those hairs and use them to my advantage. Some boys recoil at being taken by the hairs on the backs of their neck, because it signifies a loss of control to a superior, much like a male kitten in the hands of its owner, but not my joeie. I was right about this greenhorn. With a grip I made more firm while measuring his resistance and acceptance, I nudged his mouth from its happy feeding ground to its next treat, my asshole. My once puckered rosette was now a gaping delicacy my joeie took to immediately, exceeding my wildest hopes. I again pulled my legs back to provide my joeie easy access to his dream filled treat, and laid my head back to wallow in ecstasy. Afterwards, in the afterglow of numerous orgasms, I lay exhausted, looking at the shadows dancing on the walls around me, a choir of cherubs singing and dancing for me. My joeie fell into bed beside me, still fully dressed, clothes stained with sperm, his face red, blotchy, his breath reeking sperm. I was so happy I could have screamed in joy, but instead decided on playing a card or two more. "Oh, my joeie, you're the most wonderful male I've ever met," I said in a deep sultry voice, giving him an affectionate kiss. My joeie didn't know what to say in return. "Gee, I just want to make you happy," he stuttered without yet mentioning sex. You'd think after having my naked body in his hands, after all the sperm he'd swallowed, he'd be interested in experiencing the kind of sex he's watched me have with men, and I'm sure he was, but he was clueless as to what to say or do, and that's how I decided to keep him. Since his shyness kept him from knowing what to ask, I filled in the spaces. "Oh, no man has ever made me happier," I said as if out of breath. I knew his ego must be soaring like a kite by then, and like any kite on the wing, I had to keep it under control. "And best of all, you aren't begging for sex." "What do you mean," he asked, suddenly thrown off guard. "joeie, call me, Mistress Colleen," I demanded softly. "Yes, Mistress Colleen." "Let me explain it to you, my dear, joeie. Didn't you ever notice how other males treat my body," I asked, placing my hand over the bulge of his crotch. "Oh, yes, Mistress Colleen. It's terrible the way they gra..." he said catching his breath, opening his eyes wide. "Yes, I'm glad you noticed, because I know you'll never treat my body like that, or act like an animal in front of me," I said pretending to ask. "Oh, no, Mistress Colleen, not me, I could never..." I looked into his eyes and saw childlike bewilderment, the not yet understood need I would steer him away from. I had to be his Mexican free tail bat, sabotaging the sonar of any rival. At that point and much to my joeie's glee, I told him to undress and throw his clothes on the floor. I would have him clean my room in the morning, preparing him for his future. When he slipped free of his pants, out came that beautiful pink-headed cock, stiff and hard as marble, with its hot blood ready to burst from distended veins. It took a lot to control myself as I looked upon a hardened male organ as fine as I'd ever seen. Though as I've said earlier, his organ wouldn't win me any awards, it was a fine piece of work sculpted by a female god, just for me, one I planned keeping as a pet, unsullied by pussy or mouth. I found the area of my bed where the sheets were most stained, and had my joeie lie down there, while I lay beside him, face to face. The poor dear's hard-on was throbbing for attention, and my poor joeie, not knowing what to do, looked to me for answers. I had the answers of course, but needed to bring him the truth slowly. I had him place his arms around me and pull my body to his, as if I were yielding to his masculinity, which wasn't lost on his ego. I felt his healthy boner between us and pressed against it tight. I let my nipples burn into his chest, while I aligned our bellies, thighs, and even toes, providing my joeie a total sensual experience. Then I brought our lips together and coaxed his tongue out to play, his sperm-scented breath bringing a giggle to my heart. Like that we dozed off together, me in heaven, my joeie in purgatory. Little did he know then that is where he would be spending the rest of his life, but to my joeie it will seem very natural. I plan to become my joeie's slut, giving him a female body to care for, providing his ego a false-sense of authority, as his fetish deserves. For the entire night I slept on and off, while my joeie tried to arouse me in his naïve way. I lay passively in his strong arms, a weak frail creature in the arms of King Kong, har, har. He held me tight, his mouth on mine, or on my neck. When I sensed him dozing off, or his hard-on flagging, I kissed him until he was brought back to life, and then I rested again. The poor boy was far too horny to resist even while dead tired, and if he uttered a word, I shushed him. Tomorrow would be one of those, 'first days for the rest of...'