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My Submissive

By: Jenny_C



Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction with no basis in actual fact. That is to say, none of the characters are real, it never actually happened, nor do I wish it to happen to me. It is purely a work of fiction that was fun to write. Explicit sex is contained within, and the story is intended for the entertainment of mature adults only.

Categories: FM, size, mast, hung

*

"Strip," I order him with a single word.

"What?" He has a hard time accepting my word at first.

"Strip," I have to repeat. "You heard me! Strip down. I want it off, all of it!"

Men are so obedient. They put on an act of being all strong and macho, but deep down they all want the same thing. This one especially, I can tell. He hesitates, acts like he doesn't know what to do, but deep down he can't wait to do whatever I tell him. His natural nature wants to obey me. The thought might even excite him, or at least that's what I suspect. Still, though, he hesitates.

"You're a submissive," I tell him what he must surely know himself. "You enjoy submitting to women. You have submitted yourself to women all your life, so why not submit to me now?"

My words hit him like an electric shock. He questions why he feels such strong desire to follow my direction, why he so much wants to obey me. It certainly can't be from my physical strength. I am a petite young woman, over a foot shorter than him. He could easily toss me aside if he wanted. Men call me pretty, I am told, but I am certainly no voluptuous model. I suppose I consider myself desirable.

Or at least this one seems to think so. I sensed his attraction for me from across the room, the way he looked at me, and then in the way he looked down and away when I approached. He's a shy one, I can tell, and I so much like them shy. Shy men make for such good pets, and I find myself wanting to break this one.

I can also sense he wants to obey my singular command. I don't know how I sense it, but it's like a sixth sense, an ability I've had all my life. He probably wonders too. How can I possibly know him so well? Why do I seem to know his innermost desires even more than he knows them himself? Perhaps I see it in his reaction. Or maybe I somehow read his mind. In a way, I suppose, I do read him. I know his secretes. I understand his deepest desires.

"But I hardly know you," He eventually answers after a long pause during which he thinks about a comeback and hardly looks at me. He speaks silently, in hardly more than a whisper, just like a true submissive should. I can tell he's shy. He's not accustomed to addressing the dominate of his species.

His answer also, I distinctly notice, fails to refute me. A mistake on his part! He confirms what I suspect, validates what I first sensed from across the room. I've always been able to tell. My sixth sense takes over.

"So then you have submitted," I've assumed correctly. "Tell me, have you submitted to other women?"

He goes silent. His head bows as if in salute. Eyes look down to the ground as if afraid to face me, afraid what else I might see through them. He feels shame to answer. I can tell he isn't accustomed to a woman being so direct. It takes a long time, but eventually he silently answers with just a nod.

"I thought so!" I congratulate myself at uncovering the truth. He appears a fine catch. Not the normally frail, scrawny, weak little submissive I find so common. This one stands tall, has muscles, and with a handsome face too. And then there's all that long blond hair dropping down to his shoulders. He has the look of a guy who would stand out in a crowd. At a party, women would take notice. At a bar, the woman sitting next to him might hope he would buy her a drink. She might even fantasize what he would be like, to have him invite her over to his place, stay for a late night drink, among other things.

"But only two others," He disturbs the pleasant thoughts running through my head with another. "And I first knew them. We first got to know each other."

Two isn't a very large number. I imagine he got to know them first as girlfriends, went out on a few dates, maybe even experienced what could be considered normal sex before admitting his submissive nature. Only after he voiced his fantasy did they take him up on his offer. Only then did they take over.

"So how does that concern me?" I don't care. "What difference does it make that we just met? You are a submissive. I am a woman who controls. Nothing else matters. Nothing else is important."

Indeed, the fact I am almost a stranger should make it more thrilling for him. He probably never performed for a stranger before. The opportunity should increase his arousal, make him even more of a submissive.

"I don't know," He hesitates.

Then I have an idea," I propose. "Pretend I am your mistress. Let's pretend I just purchased you at the auction. I have taken you home and now I wish to take a look at what I paid for."

I reach down and undo the top most button of my blouse. A hint of my boobs come into view. I can tell he looks. His eyes rise up and focus on the middle of my chest. He likes to look at my boobs, the swell of breasts. He would like to see more and is willing to do almost anything for the opportunity.

"So get it off," I return to my original request. Not so much a request, but more like a demand. "And I mean everything! Is there something about the word 'strip' that you don't understand?" I turn stricter with him. "Do I need to explain it to you?" 

My tactic works. He still hesitates, pauses before he starts, but then gets down on a knee to take off his shoes and socks: First one shoe and sock, and then the other. The shirt comes next. Fine muscle definition, strong arms, little fat on him. He could be an Olympic athlete, perhaps a football player. I'm sure he works out several times per week. Males look so much better when they are young. This one looks barely legal. I guess him to be 20 years old, certainly no more than 25.

"Hurry up!" I encourage him when he pauses at his belt buckle. "Off with it, boy. Give me a look."

Calling him "boy" comes on a whim. I don't even think about it. It just comes out, I suppose, because of his young age. Indeed he is very much like a boy to me. I guess him to be 15 years my junior. He could almost be my son.

Sitting back in my comfortable high-backed chair, I watch. I've always enjoyed watching men strip, and especially young, fit men like this one. He reminds me of the many male strip joints I've visited, the stripper hired for a bachelorette party, and then some of the back issues of Playgirl I've kept around. I have a whole library of them, a library of naked young men. I even keep them indexed to more quickly find the best looking stud for my demands. I keep the blonds and brunettes separated too. I even have a special section reserved for pictures of young men sporting erections.

The belt slips out from the hoops of his slacks. It would be better if he danced around like they do at those clubs. He would make for a good stripper, but I like his innocence too. I can tell this is his first try, at least like this. He's probably stripped for past girlfriends, but those were women who already saw him naked, maybe even had sex with him. Then it was mutual. Now he strips while I sit back fully clothed and watch.

White underwear comes uncovered beneath. Loose fitting underwear, regular underwear, not the tight thongs so prevalent on male strippers. A tight bikini would be better, see through mesh netting even better than that. Still, I like it. I especially like the bulge in front. It looks larger than normal, and then I notice it.

Truly he is a submissive. The evidence is displayed right in front of me. Unbelievably, they guy has a hard-on under his shorts! In fact, I'm sure he does. I see the outline of his boner pressed out against his underwear, the stalk standing upright and firm in front of him. I know it for certain when he stands back up after slipping the slacks off his feet and tosses them to the side. It usually requires some effort on my part to give a guy a boner. It normally doesn't occur right away. This one is excited, obviously, even aroused by the situation. Truly, he is a submissive.

"Pick up after yourself," I put aside his hard-on for a moment to chastise him for leaving his clothes laying around. "Bring me your clothes. Let me get rid of them."

He bends down to pick up all the clothes he's taken off so far: shoes, socks, shirt, and pants. Unfortunate for me, he faces the wrong way when he leans forward. I would rather see his ass. A stripper would know. This one still needs some training, but then there will be plenty of time for me to train him in the coming weeks.

"I'll throw them away," I take the clothes from his open hands. "You won't need these anymore; at least for the next couple of days."

To emphasize my point, I get up from the chair, walk over to a small wastebasket sitting next to my desk, and deposit them inside. I make a show of it, pressing them down into the rest of the trash. The message is obvious. I make sure he knows what I want. He won't be wearing much in the way of clothing around my house.

"Continue," I say a single word when I sit back down again. "I didn't tell you to stop."

He pauses to consider it. He still has doubts, I can tell, but now I can also tell he wants to. I can tell it by his shorts. I can see it for myself, through the hard-on he sports underneath. It rises up high. I distinctly notice they way it pulls out the top of his underwear, pulling it out away from his waist, as if too big to be contained.

Predictably, he starts again, but not in the way I would prefer. To my disappointment, he first turns away. He hides himself from me. My mouth opens and I am about to chastise him, until he starts slipping down his last remaining article of clothing.

A fine ass, strong and firm, and so smooth. I can't help but wait to spank it. I admire his ass so much that I hardly notice his last remaining article of clothing hit the ground. Suddenly, almost before I realize it, he stands naked. I have a naked young man in the room with me. And not only naked, but with at least a semi-erection on the other side.

"Those will be thrown into the garbage as well," I point to his underwear. "You'll have no need for them. You will have no need for any clothing around my house, not for the next few days."

He stands nervous. He stands before me like a frightened little boy. But not a boy, a real man, and I have him standing naked before me. I can tell he's nervous by how he positions his hands, holding them in front, covering himself. The hands need to come first.

"Put your arms behind you," I order. "Grasp your wrists together. Make sure your hands stay well behind your back."

He's still so nervous. I notice it in the way he glances around to check if I am looking. He wants to make sure I remain seated in the chair. He wants to make sure I can't see. At the same time, however, he so much wants to show me. He can't wait to show himself off to me. The thoughts going through his head must be driving him half crazy. He doesn't know what he wants any more. But I do.

One more time he glances around to check, and only then does he pull his hands away. Still he moves them slow, but at least he does move them. The fact I remain seated in the chair seems to satisfy him. It takes almost a minute, but eventually he brings his arms around to the center of his back. He grasps his wrists together exactly like I requested. I purposely order him to grasp his wrists together so to force his hands higher up on his back and make sure not to block my view.

"Very good!" I say as if to congratulate the young man and his thoughtful act. "That's a fine ass!" I decide to tell him as a type of reward.

Again he glances around as if to check if I still sit in the chair. His body turns as he does so, but he doesn't show me anything. He seems worried I might get up and walk around and check out what he has on display on the far side. I consider it, but remain seated. Why should I do any of the work? This is my show, my special day. I want to be able to relax and enjoy myself. Besides, it will be better if he voluntarily submits. I want him to take the initiative and show me everything.

"Now slowly turn around," I tell him what I want to see. "Very slow," I emphasize the word. "And I do mean slow. I want you to turn around slow while you keep your wrists tightly held behind you."

At first, I can't tell if he rotates at all. He seems to stand in place, frozen, unmoving for several seconds. He seems to consider it, but then a barely perceptible motion from his feet tells me when he starts.

"Perfect!" I like the way he follows directions so obediently, almost reads my mind to give me exactly what I want. I want a show, and I want to drag out the show. Briefly, I consider telling him to hurry so I can more quickly see what I am after, but then think better of it. 

"Nice and slow," I tell him instead. "And keep those hands behind you. Thrust out your waist if you want too, but keep it slow."

He moves excruciatingly slow. He hardly moves at all, but I like the way he moves. He really puts on a show. He seems to know what I want better than I know myself. His waist thrusts out too, as if to show himself off for me, as if to put himself on better display.

I wait impatiently. I fidget in the chair with anticipation. Second by second, then a minute passes by. I fight the urge to jump up and take a look around. It would be easy. He stands so vulnerable, so much like a virgin. I imagine him as some young, virgin boy waiting for the first time.

"Oh!" I say with excitement at the first sight of it. "What was that?"

He stops turning for a moment; then rotates his hips back the other way to hide it from view. It disappears, leaving me disappointed, but I know what I saw. It appeared higher than expected, sooner too, right before it disappeared again. Instead of at his waist like I expected, it first appeared up by his tummy, which I know can't possibly be right. A moment later I laugh at myself, realizing it only a product of my over-active imagination.

"Why do you stop?" I tempt him. "I want to see it."

At least the bulge in his shorts wasn't my imagination. I saw the evidence, and it was standing upright. Not a partial erection either, but clearly a full-fledged hard-on. I saw it for only a second, but I saw the head of it pointed up into the air. And then I think again about where I saw it, just below his chest, but no way could I have really seen it rise so high. The thing would have to be a foot long in length for me to see it that high. Obviously, it had to be my imagination.

Still, the temptation to check him out proves almost unbearable. If I could lean over just a little. I wouldn't even need to get up from the chair. It stands so close, just around the corner. It lies just out of my view. His waist, I notice, it continues to push out, showing it off. If only he would push it out a little bit more.

It takes longer than it should. Perhaps he turns slower. Maybe it comes from my anticipation. I let my eyes roam up and then back down the length of his gorgeous body. I focus on the spot where I expect it to emerge once again. The first time it appeared too high, higher than it should, so I focus lower.

Just then, I see it a second time. It peeks around the corner. It peers around like the head of a little boy wanting to look into the girl's shower. Except I am the one looking, and I am looking at a different type of head.

This time, I say nothing. I learned my lesson from the first time. I don't want to scare him, make him turn back. I wonder if he realizes I am looking. I wonder if he realizes what I see. The thought excites me, the thought of spying on him in secret.

Just then I notice something else too. I notice how high up on his body it appears. Not where I expected, not at his waist, but above his tummy, where it appeared before. The head peaks around the corner and emerges a lot higher up on his body than it should. Sooner too! I like the potential implications of what I see, at what he has to offer.

"Oh!" I can resist no more. I first wait until the head is full on display, and then I voice my thoughts out loud. "A mushroom!"

My comment gives him pause. He briefly turns his waist back the other way again. Back the other way, but not far enough away. Part of him remains on display. Not much, just the tip, but enough for the show to continue without pause. I start to realize it isn't my imagination. This male is a lot more endowed than most.

"And I so much like my boys to be uncircumcised," I voice my secret knowledge of him out loud. "I like mushrooms. I like it when there is a roof on top. It makes for a more interesting plaything."

This gives him further pause. I like the way he hesitates and pauses. It makes him look so young, so innocent, so much a virgin. Still just the head of his magnificent cock pokes out from the side. It moves slightly, pushing in and then out ever so slightly with his heavy breathing. I so much want to see the rest of his length. Once again I am tempted to lean to the side and take a look at the rest of what he has to offer, but I also realize there is no need to rush. I will see soon enough. He is a submissive. He will show me.

The excruciating slow turn continues. Again the full head of his cock comes into view, and then a few seconds later a larger portion of the shaft as well. Clearly, he stands at a full erection. Not partial, but with a full boner. His cock stands upright and firm, pointing almost straight up into the air. Thick too! He looks too big for me to grasp my fingers around, or perhaps it is just my over-active imagination once again. In any case, I can see this one has a lot of potential.

"Nice dick," I eventually decide to compliment him. "I like your prick!"

I so much like looking at naked men, and looking at a man with an erection is even better. There's nothing like the sight of a tall, handsome, naked young man with a full hard-on, and this one looks to be a lot more gifted than most. He rises so high, and with every little turn of his body I get to see ever more of it. He still has quite a ways further to turn, I notice, which means the show isn't nearly over yet. I can't wait.

"Excellent!" I can't help but continue to compliment. "What a superb dick!"

Normally I don't like to compliment a boy, but I can't help it with this one. The excitement wells up from deep inside. He appears better than most of my magazines, more magnificent than the average stripper. At least six inches of it grows tall, and he still isn't side-ways to me yet. He most definitely extends longer than most. Higher too! I notice the shaft of his cock actually has a bend to it, looking like a banana, curving upwards and pointed at the sky.

"Oh my God!" I grip my fingers tight to the armrests of the chair. "Holy fuck!" I speak in increased astonishment. Normally I insult a boy, tell him how small he is, make him feel useless and degraded. But with this one, I can't help it. I can't believe it! He truly is magnificent, a real stud. I close my eyes for a second to bring myself back down to reality and make sure it doesn't come from my over-active imagination. When I open them again, he appears just as long as ever. Now I know why the head emerged so high up on his waist. It comes from his length, because his cock is so incredibly long!

"Now that is a very nice cock!" I say my thoughts out loud. I'm not sure if he heard my first exclamations, but I make sure he hears it now. My words give him pause, his breathing turns heavier. I think a moan of excitement escapes from his lips, and his cock seems to move in and out further with his every breath.


My Submissive



"You are trained to resist, to hold it back until your mistress gives you permission," I go on. "You are trained to hold it inside, to hold in your sperm?"

Another flinch from his cock. He knows now. He has no doubt. He knows exactly what will be expected of him. He also knows what I want.

"Yes, my Mistress!" He even confirms it.

"Interesting!" I consider the implications of his words. This one will be fun, a real treat. Not just big in size, but properly trained as well. Not trained as much as I would like, but then a girl can't have everything. Perhaps I will someday have to complete his training. It will be fun to make him obey.

I notice my hand stroking faster than what I want. It makes me excited, what I have learned about this new male stud. I have to put forth a considerable effort to slow back down and make him last.

"I guess that means," I eventually return from my fantasy and come back down to reality. "That must mean you will resist my extensive use of your cock, but you still have your limitations?" I continue with my line of questioning.

"I have limitations!" He confirms with the release of a deep breath.

"And what are those limitations?" I want to know. "Are they, how should I say it?" I consider how to ask the question, and then ask it anyway. "Are they extensive?"

"I'm, I'm," He stutters. "I'm not sure how to answer."

Of course he isn't sure. He can't be sure. He doesn't know me yet, doesn't know how forceful I will be, how strict I will hold him to the rules. He doesn't know what extensive use I will put to his cock, but he soon will. By the time the sun rises in the morning, he will know fully.

"Then let me ask it this way," I rephrase. "Will you be able to hold in your sperm much longer? If I continue stroking on your cock like I am now doing right now, will you be able to hold back your cum for me?"

"I, I, think so," Again the stutters.

"And what if I stroke faster?" I demonstrate with my hand. "What then? Will you still be able to hold in your sperm for me?"

"I, I'll try," His breathing becomes faster. Immediately I hear the affect my hand has on him. I like what I hear, so decide to go on.

"And what if I also squeeze down tighter," Again, I demonstrate. He begins to moan. He doesn't need to answer with words. His moans tell me everything I need to know.

"I'm trying," He answers in a plea, and I can tell he really is trying. My hand rapidly strokes up and then back down his meaty pole. My fingers curl in tight, wrapped around. A normal male would have exploded already. I slow to give him a reprieve.

"Very good!" I congratulate his performance. "I see you have been trained quite well. Perhaps not fully trained to meet my needs, but well enough. Your training will serve you well to pleasure me and my girlfriends."

"Yes, Mistress Mellissa," He once again formally addresses me by my title. I so much like it when he calls me mistress.

"Oh yes, there are my friends too," I emphasize my last point. "I don't know about your former mistress, but I like to show off my boys after they are trained. We like to show off to each other, and you should make for quite an entertaining show."

"Yes Mistress Mellissa," He answers after a long pause.

I can't wait to show him off. My girlfriends are going to be so jealous when they see his size. It's not every day a girl gets lucky enough to find a boy with a ten inch pole. And so young and full of vitality too! He can't be much over 18 years of age. A boy his age can sometimes do it two, even three times in one day. I fantasize what it will be like to have him for breakfast, lunch, and then dinner.

"Did she show you?" I want to know how experienced he might be in this area too. "Tell me, did your former mistress like to show you, you know, like at parties?"

"Not often," He answers to my delight. Good! That means he is inexperienced too. A picture forms in my mind, a picture of a shy young man in front of my girlfriends. That is, a shy, naked young man, acting embarrassed in front of my girlfriends. He will not like it when I show him off, but this will only further his debasement.

"And when she did show you," I go on to ask a more personal, more humiliating question. "I mean when she showed you off to her girlfriends at parties, did she show you with a boner?"

It takes him longer to answer this question. First he gives me an answer with a shake of his head. Only when I stop stroking his tool does he answer verbally.

"No Lady Mellissa."

Again, I take delight. More inexperience, I like it. His debasement, even humiliation will be total.

"Then you should know," I decide to start early. "I might as well tell you this in advance, Richard, but when I show you off at my parties, I will make sure to show you with a full boner. I will display you to my girlfriends naked and with a full boner every time."

A moan comes from above me. I can tell this disturbs him. He is not accustomed to being displayed hard, and I can see why he might be disturbed by what I hold in my hand. It comes from his size, of course. He worries what the young women will do when they catch sight of him.

"Does this bother you?" I decide to ask. "Do you have a problem with me showing you off at parties while your cock stands inflated, tall, and at its longest length for all my girlfriends to gaze upon?"

Another moan and then the proper answer. "It does not matter if it bothers me," He says to my delight. "You are free to show me however you wish."

"That's right!" I congratulate him on giving the correct answer. "And I wish to show you hard. My girlfriends like to see males with full boners, and they are going to go absolutely crazy when I let them see yours."

This does disturb him. I feel it through my hand. I also hear it through the worried moan sounding out from above me. His inexperience will make it even better. I imagine his shyness, and then imagine my girlfriends screaming when they first catch sight of him.

"I will first have you hold it inside for me," I tell him exactly how I wish to display him. "I will have you hold in your sperm for a very long time while I play and tease on you. And then, when you can hardly stand holding it inside any longer, I'm going to bring you out and show you off. I'm going to show off my latest purchase, which will be your hard, erect, dripping cock. I'm going to show you off to all my girlfriends while your cock stands upright in its full glory."

He makes no answer to this statement. Indeed I am going to show off his cock, and then I'm going to show off what I can do with it too. Only after all my girlfriends are present and are gathered around watching, only then will I give him permission to cum. This portion of his debasement, however, I do not tell him. I hold back because I want it to be a surprise. If his previous Mistress never showed him off with a boner, then it logically follows that he has never been publically cummed either. The shock on his face will be worth the wait. I can't wait to witness his total humiliation at having to cum while a small cadre of women watch him do so.

"I'm not saying this as a request," I switch back to the subject at hand. I want to make sure he fully understands and appreciates what he has gotten himself into. "This isn't something that might happen. It is something that will happen, and it will happen soon. I can't wait to show you off to my girlfriends."

Still he says nothing. I go right on and continue stroking his dick through all of it. He is fighting me, I can tell, resisting what comes natural.

"How are you feeling?" I soon ask. "Are you working to hold it inside?"

He nods and then answers: "Yes mistress."

"Are you working to hold in your sperm?" I want to hear more. "Are you purposely trying to hold back your sperm and keep it in your balls?"

"Yes mistress," He says more quickly the second time.

"Then you are doing well," I decide on a compliment. "Keep holding it back. Keep letting those balls fill up. You only have one ball filled so far. Now you need to work to fill the other."

He lets out a desperate moan at this remark. I've effectively told him that I am only half-done. I still have a lot of stroking planned for his cock, and I really do. To emphasize the point, I let go of his shaft for a moment to feel up his balls.

"Oh yes, you still have a long ways to go," I conclude as I feel the meaty orbs with my fingers. "Not even bloated yet. I need to first get your nuts big and bloated so you have more to show off to me."

I feel up his balls for less than a minute, and then go right back up to his shaft again. I don't give him rest, no retrieve. I want to test his stamina.

"But not for a long time," I make him moan when I start up again. "I want to see how well disciplined you are. I need to know how well she trained your cock so I know how much further training I must give it."

My momentary reprieve seems to have relaxed him, the pause in my stroking action makes him sound less desperate. Lucky for me, however, his giant cock hasn't lost any of its stiffness. It remains as firm as ever, and I feel it leaks out increased amounts of lubricant after the first few strokes. It stands upright and so unbelievably tall. I distinctly notice the way my hand moves in an almost vertical direction when I stroke it.

"You are doing well," I can't help but compliment. "Very good! I can tell you will be a very satisfying fuck."

Another moan from above me, a slight twitch in his cock as well. Hints of sex excites him. He probably finds me attractive, but then why not? I like to consider myself a pretty girl. Trim body, cute features, and with perfectly sized boobs. I do not look at all domineering, or at least not nearly as domineering as I now feel. He probably finds me attractive and would very much like to have a go with me in the sack.

"Yes, I'm sure you will give a very long and satisfying fuck," I decide to be more explicit in order to tease him. "You might even like that too, wouldn't you? How would you like to fuck me?"

"Yes!" I hardly hear him voice out loud. Another twitch in his cock too.

"I bet you would like to fuck my body," I give him hope. "I bet you would like to fuck me a lot. Tell me, do you like to fuck pretty girls with small boobs?"

"Very much!" He answers honestly.

"Good!" I like his answer. "Because I like being fucked. I need to be fucked often, at least three times per day, but only by boys who are properly trained in the fine art of fucking. The only cocks I allow inside are those that can properly hold in their sperm long enough to first give me an orgasm."

The cock in my hand twitches again.

"We'll have to see if your cock is properly trained," I refrain from giving him a definite answer. "It all depends on how well trained you are. I might have to train your cock further before I allow it inside."

"Yes, Lady Mellissa," He acknowledges this temptation with a moan.

"With me on top," I add. "Of course, I will be on top. I always take the top, and I'm going to enjoy riding you."

I can't help but think what it will feel like to ride this one. With his cock being so long, it will go in so deep. I will be able to thrust up and then back down on him such a long distance. He is sure to give me an orgasm, not only from his size but more important because of his training.

I wouldn't mind him taking the top too, and then perhaps taking me from behind as well. Not at first. First, I will need to establish who is in charge. Perhaps later we will experiment with multiple positions. Yes, I certainly will have to experiment with this one in many different positions. It would be especially satisfying to receive an orgasm from behind and then another from a hard ride.

I suddenly realize my stroking action has accelerated. I did it without thinking -- or perhaps I was thinking, that is, all those dirty thoughts. He doesn't like this. It feels like he is on the edge, about to let go. I immediately slow to give him some reprieve.

"I hope you have been sufficiently trained to ride," I go back to my original thought. "I like to go riding. You would make for a good ride. Do you think I might be able to ride you later in the week?"

"If you wish," He accepts my dominance. "I will make myself available."

I like his answer. "Of course you will," I accept. "You will make your cock available to me, whenever I wish."

"Yes, Lady Mellissa," Again he accepts. "I will make my cock available to you."

I like this too. "That means you will make it hard for me too," I turn more explicit. "Not just any cock, but I will demand you make it stand hard and upright too. You will provide me with a stiff cock whenever I desire it."

"A stiff cock," He agrees. "Yes, Lady Mellissa."

He is actually doing quite well. I've been jerking on him for a long time already. He's been sporting a hard-on for even longer. Most men would have exploded a long time ago. I can tell this one has received considerable training.

"Keep holding it inside," I encourage further. "Hold in that sperm. I'll let you cum, but first you have to hold it in."

The moans turn louder, his hips begin to shake. Already it has been a long time, I know. If he was fucking, he would have given me an orgasm a long time ago, but then that is the whole purpose of training a male. Males must be trained to satisfy. I despise a premature ejaculation. This one has the stamina to hold it in until I orgasm, perhaps a double orgasm. He will be tested, extensively.

"Did your former mistress always allow you to release?" I decide to change my line of questioning while I stroke.

"Release?" He answers back in the form of a question. "Do you mean from her restraints?"

His answer surprises me. It also intrigues me. Not what I had in mind, but still intriguing. Briefly, I imagine him in restraints, perhaps in shackles, around the wrists and ankles. Naked too, naturally, and with his gigantic cock full on display and available for me to do with however I please. I am tempted to restrain him now, tie him down before continuing my play, but then decide there will be plenty of time for that later.

"We'll have to come back to your restraints later in the week," I decide to tempt him. "But no, that is not what I meant. Not release from your restraints. I meant the release of your sperm. What I really want to know is how often did she allow you to cum, or was she a mistress who preferred to train you by holding it back?"

"Holding it back!" He admits to my delight. "She wouldn't let me!"

He says it louder than need be, almost in a shout. I can hear how much he fights it. It sounds like she held him back often. Perhaps she was a mistress who didn't appreciate a cum. For myself, I really like to watch a male cum. I so much enjoy the sight of a naked young man when he climaxes.

"Did she often hold it back?" I want to know specifics. "Do you mean to say she would masturbate on your cock like I am doing now, and not allow you to cum in the end?"

"She wouldn't allow it," He almost pleads with me to do just the opposite.

"So she would stroke or fuck on your cock for a very long time while you held your sperm in for her?" Still I want to hear more. "And then sometimes she would stop simply because she felt like it?"

"She would stop!" He tells me. "She stopped to punish me. She said it was to train me."

I like his answer. I briefly consider doing the same myself, leaving him wanting, needing him needing. I wonder how long it will take his cock to deflate to normal size, perhaps it might stay hard, hard and firm until I finish with it. It would be interesting to find out. Perhaps later, but not now.

"That must have been terrible," I pretend to feel sorry for him. "I mean to have your cock stroked for so long and then not allow the release of your sperm!"

"It was!" He agrees.

"To have all that thick, white sperm held up inside," I describe it. "All that sperm swelled up, unused in your balls."

I think of his full, bloated balls, and then think of how much they must already contain. He will be putting on a hell of a show, I know. I think of the long white strings that will soon be shooting out from the tip of his cock, but no need to tell him.

"In case you may be wondering," I make sure to leave him in need. "I may not allow you to release either."

A moan suddenly escapes his lips. "Please Mellissa," He begs under his breath, and then a series of whimpers. It makes him sound like a dog, like a dog in need. I so much enjoy that sound.

"In fact," I add to increase his anxiety. "I happen to subscribe to the philosophy that the release of sperm from the male cock should be considered a privilege."

More whimpers. "Please Mellissa," He almost begs. I can feel in the firmness of his hard cock how much he fights to hold back. He can hardly stand it, and I am so much enjoying myself.

"It should be considered a reward," I continue to torment. "Thus, I will only rarely allow you to release. Even after an incessant amount of masturbation or a long fuck, you will be required to hold in your sperm for me."

"Please no!" He starts to plead with me. "No Mellissa, please! Not again!"

His words give me hope. His mention of doing it again makes me wonder. No wonder he is able to hold out for so long. His previous mistress indeed must have made him hold it, even more than I usually do. He is such a submissive, the equivalent of a male whore.

"It's the only way to properly train a male to be ridden," I let him know the reason behind all my training. He already knows this, yes, but I want him to hear me say it.

"Yes, Lady Mellissa," He even agrees, to my delight.

"And I will be riding you often," I let him know. "And I will be riding you hard!" I emphasize my last word with a little stronger than normal tug on my next stroke of his cock. It almost sends him over the edge. More moans sound from somewhere above me. It takes him a few seconds to recover, and through it all I am careful not to let up on my pumping action. I never let up, never allow him any relief.

"I demand much of my males," I casually tell him. "And I demand it often."

Another moan, and then his cock shudders. I think he is going to do it. Briefly, I consider pausing my stroking action to help him last longer, but a moment later come to my senses and realize I must not show any weakness. The shutter comes from the word I use, I know. I mention fucking. I let him know he will be fucking me. He certainly will be fucking me, but the fucks will be on my terms, not his.

"And speaking of my demands," I think back to what he mentioned earlier. "Earlier you said something about restraints? Did your previous Mistress often use restraints on you?"

"Yes," It takes him several seconds to respond. He acts as though he doesn't want me to know this.

"And were you naked when she restrained you?" The image forms on my mind, his muscular body in ropes and chains. "Did she first strip you naked before she took away your ability to resist?"

"Usually," He admits between breaths. "Sometimes she restrained me with a few clothes still on too, but they never stayed on for very long."

"Of course they didn't!" I think it obvious. "And it will be the same with me," I let him know. "It is important for a naked man to be restrained. It is important in the training of your cock. If not for the restraints, you might be tempted to reach down and jerk yourself off."

"Never!" He answers to my delight.

"Exactly!" I give him a smile. "That is why I sometimes prefer to have you restrained. It is often necessary, especially if I am to subject you to a prolonged cock-tease. I will need to have you in a position where you are unable to resist my efforts."

Another shutter. His cock appears ready to shoot at any moment. I keep stroking through it all, never stopping, not even slowing down. I am relentless, continuing to pump my hand on his cock at the same, constant rate.




My Submissive



"Tell me Richard," I want to hear more about his body in bondage. I have a thought, a very pleasant thought, and I want to explore it further. "Did your former mistress ever restrain you so you couldn't resist her efforts, even after you succumbed to her?"

He doesn't understand my question, not at first. The thought becomes more dramatic for me. I think of doing it to him now, and watching the result.

"After I succumb?" He questions back.

"After you cum," I rephrase. "I think you know what I'm asking. Did your former mistress ever restrain you so you couldn't get away even after you cummed?"

Another shutter. He knows exactly what I am asking, but doesn't answer at first.

"Did she ever restrain you," I must go on to pull it out of him. "So she could continue to play with it, even after you cummed? Did she ever continue to stroke on your cock as a punishment after your cock shot out a load of cum?"

It takes him several moments more to answer. "Only rarely." When he does answer, he answers under his breath, perhaps hoping I might not hear.

"Then the answer is yes?" I want to hear him admit it.

"Yes, Lady Mellissa, she did," He says with embarrassment. "But only rarely! It was very difficult for me."

"I bet it was," I picture in my mind what it must have been like. "I'm told the male cock can be extremely sensitive after it cumms. I bet you really thrashed around in your bonds when she went back to stroking it some more."

"I did!" He pants. "I begged her not to. I even yelled at her to stop, but there was nothing I could do to stop her from torturing me."

"Torture your cock?" I like his choice of words.

"Yes, Lady Mellissa," He admits. "Sometimes she would use my cock as an instrument of torture. I would try to get away. I tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn't let go of it."

"So she continued to stroke it, even after she forced it to cum?" I can picture it so clearly. "Now that's a sight I would really like to see."

"Please no!" He starts to beg. "Oh, my cock!" He finally voices out loud. He says it in little more than a whisper, like a desperate sigh.

"What about your cock?" I decide to ask him. "Would you like me to give it permission to release its sperm load?"

"Oh yes!" He answers in a desperate tone.

"Soon," I give him hope. "I'll soon let you shoot out your sperm in a long stream. I'll let you shoot your cock again and again, however many times you can do it."

My words make it even harder for him, I know, my description of what he needs so badly. I feel it in his cock, in its stiffness. It seems to grow more as I stroke. I think it closer to eleven inches in length now. I resist the temptation to clamp down.

"And I'll be watching as you do it," I let him know this too. "I always watch my boys when they do it. I enjoy watching."

"Please," He speaks almost in a whisper from above me. I hardly hear, but I do hear it. I like begging almost as much as I like to watch a guy do it.

"Please?" I ask back. "Is there something you want to ask of me?"

"Please Mistress Mellissa," Now he does beg. "Let me shoot my sperm."

I love it. I have him now. I've got him in the palm of my hand, literally, or at least I have his giant cock in my hand. He actually begs me to let him cum.

"Are you sure?" I want to hear more. "Are you saying this is your limit? Do you need to cum now?"

"I have to cum," He satisfies my desire. "Oh, I need to cum. My balls are so full. I can't hold my sperm in any longer."

"Can't hold in your sperm," I speak slowly, and just as slowly stroke him. "Does that mean you have a lot of sperm to shoot out for me?"

"I am full!" He admits between pants. "My balls, I can't stand it."

"That's good," I like his self-description. "Because I want to see a lot of sperm. I want to see thick ropes of sperm. And I want to see it shoot out a long distance too."

"Oh yes!" He almost yells out. "I'm so ready to shoot."

"And so you shall," I suddenly let go of his cock. "But not yet!"

A terrified moan escapes his lips. He fears I am going to stop and make him wait. His cock shutters. I see it actually throb. For the first few seconds it appears as if it might even shoot off without anyone touching it. Now that would be quite a sight to behold.

"You are doing well," I have to give him at least some of the credit. "I see your previous mistress has trained you well. She has obviously put your cock to extensive use."

"She did!" He agrees. "Very extensive!"

I like his words. I enjoy hearing him so willingly admit his subservient stature. It gives me a terrific sense of power, of control over this strong creature. He is like a pet to me. I am his master.

It also gives me an idea: a dirty, nasty idea. I think of another way to test him. It will be a difficult test. I don't know if he will be able to pass it, but I certainly will have a good time giving it to him.

"And so shall I as well," I tell him after a long pause to think about it. "I mean your cock. I shall be putting it to extensive use as well,"

I remind him of what we talked about, as if he might have forgotten. Another moan of desperation. I so much enjoy his moans. 

"And speaking of using your cock," I go on. "There is one more test I wish to give you. There is one more thing you must do for me before I allow you to be satisfied yourself."

"What is it?" He asks with interest. "Please Lady Mellissa, anything!"

Yes, anything! I so much like to hear that word. Soon he will regret he ever used it.

"First a question," I decide to take my time. "A question about your previous training."

"Yes Lady Mellissa," He can't wait for me to ask it.

"I am curious if your previous Mistress also trained you..." I start to say but then decide to ask it a different way. "I mean, are you also trained to hold in your sperm..." I try again but can't quite get it out. It is such a dirty idea, such a nasty thought. I have a difficult time voicing it out loud. It would be easier if I knew him better. I consider waiting, thinking it might be best to hold back on our very first encounter.

"Yes, Lady Mellissa," But then he tempts me to ask it anyway. He wants to know. I can't help it. I give in.

"Then tell me boy," I take a deep breath and say it. "I wonder if you are properly trained to hold in your sperm while your cock is being sucked?"

It takes a few seconds for my words to register. It is as though he doesn't understand my meaning. Perhaps he didn't hear? Or perhaps I go beyond his training? Whatever the reason, just as I open my mouth to clarify, his eyes widen. He looks at me with shock. I know then that he understands.

"That's right," I confirm without really confirming anything at all. "Imagine my mouth wrapped around the thick shaft of your cock," I step up close, in front of his face, and tell him to imagine while I imagine it myself. "Think of your smooth cock-head inside my mouth, my tongue swirling around. Licking! Sucking! Playing with it."

"Please no!" He can't stand it. "Not that! I won't be able to stand it!"

I hardly stand it myself. I act like such a bitch, such a wanton slut in heat. His cock has put me in heat. The size of his equipment has corrupted me!

"And all you need to do is nothing at all," I make it sound like it will be easy for him. "I only ask you to do one little thing for me. It's nothing, really, very simple."

"Please no!" He says again. "Not that! Please Melissa!" He already knows what I want. He imagines how difficult it will be.

"And one more thing," I step up even closer, reach up to brush my hand across his cheek, act like an innocent little girl asking a favor. "I also need from you is to keep your cock hard and stiff for me while I enjoy it."

This will be no problem for him, as I already can see for myself. I can also feel his breath, hear his heavy breathing. Beads of sweat roll down his forehead. Already he seems to fight it.

"Keep it hard and stiff," I add. "Keep it rock-hard while I take pleasure."

"I don't know," He finally speaks actual words.

"You don't know?" I ask back. "What do you mean, you don't know? What don't you know? Do you mean to say your previous mistress never sucked on you? Are you not trained, I mean, orally?"

It takes him a few seconds to answer. "Some training, yes," He eventually does admit. "But I don't know if I can, Lady Mellissa, not after all you have already done to me."

I smile at his admission. It sounds like such an honest admission, from the heart.

"Do you mean my previous masturbation?" I want to hear more. "Are you talking about the intense masturbation I have already given to your cock?" I say it softly, as if genuinely feeling sorry for him.

He can only nod in response. 

"Then say it," I want to hear more than a nod. "I want to hear you admit it out loud."

He looks away, as if ashamed. "I've been trained to receive it orally, yes," He admits first. "But I don't know how much more my cock can take, not after you already masturbated on it for so long."

I want to jump up with delight. His words make me feel so powerful, so much in control. This boy is like a slave to me, a male sex slave.

"A long masturbation?" I repeat part of his admission back to him. "So you can take more then?"

He doesn't want to answer this question. He doesn't want to admit it, but must eventually do so.

"A little more, yes, Lady Mellissa," He answers hesitantly. "But not much more, not after the long masturbation you already gave me."

Again I feel the power, the control rush through me when he admits it. I imagine myself a queen with a whole harem of sex slaves to bring up to my room whenever I feel the need.

"Long masturbation?" I repeat the words I like best. I say them mostly because I so much like hearing myself say the words. "Did you think that was a long masturbation session I just gave you?"

He nods and then answers. "Very long, yes, Lady Mellissa. Very extensive"

"But not extensive enough," I warn. "Actually, I hardly consider it extensive at all. I had hoped you would be better trained, better able to resist my efforts. I'm afraid you must be able to withstand a more extensive use of your cock if you intend to satisfy my needs."

He lets out a worried moan.

"So to train you further," I stand up on the tips of my toes to make myself taller. "I'm going to switch over and now use my mouth on you." I step up so close I almost kiss him. I no longer need to talk, only to whisper. "And I so much want to suck on cock, any cock, but especially yours because it is so large. All I ask you to do is nothing at all. You don't have to do anything, nothing different than what you've already done. You just need to keep your cock hard while I take pleasure with it."

I run my tongue over my lips, acting as though I stand before a smorgasbord of desserts. In a way, I am. His cock will be the biggest steak I have ever sucked on. It will certainly be the widest. I wonder if I will even be able to open my mouth wide enough to fit it inside.

"Will you?" I have to prompt him to answer now. "Tell me Richard, will you be able to keep that giant cock of yours as hard as a rock while I suck?"

First he nods, and then he answers almost as if he is out of breath. "I will try," He admits his own frailty.

"You certainly better try," I repeat in a serious tone. "I better not taste a single drop of your sperm in my mouth," I warn. "I know what sperm tastes like. I've eaten plenty of it. I've sucked off a lot of men, and I don't want you blowing your load while it's in my mouth. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lady Mellissa," He understands more than he admits.

"That's right," I elect to reward his obedience with a glimmer of hope. "At least not yet. Later, yes, but first I want to savor your cock. And in order to properly savor a cock as big as yours, it needs to remain hard for a very, very long time."

"Yes, Lady Mellissa," He pants now. He looks so good, standing before me panting and swelling. He looks like a little boy waiting for his punishment, but then I look down and see he most certainly is no little boy.

Finally, I can hold back no longer. He moans out loud when I lower down onto my knees. He's had enough of a rest, I decide, at least several minutes worth. His cock stayed hard the whole time, which I suppose is evidence of how hot and horny he must feel on the inside.

He shows more evidence of his training when I open my mouth. I don't need to go to him. He comes to me. I only have to part my lips just a little. It serves as a signal to him. He knows to deposit himself inside so I don't need to make an effort.

"Perfect!" I want to say, if I could say it, but the head of his cock prevents me from saying anything at all. I must open my mouth considerably. Indeed he is of a massive girth. The head goes in, and then a small portion of the shaft. I taste it, and the salty taste sends a warm shiver through my body. I wish to taste more, but he's too damn big to take in very much.

First I suck, and then I twirl my tongue around the smooth head too. The twirling makes him extra excited. It arouses him when I work the head. I hear it above in his breathing, in the moans coming out from between his lips.

Occasionally. I must back away to catch my breath. It proves difficult to breathe with such a large cock taking up most of my mouth. I only have to pull back the slightest amount for him to back off further. He pulls out his cock just like he deposited it inside.

I rest for a minute, and then simply open my mouth when I am ready again. He doesn't behave as ready as I do. He hesitates for a few seconds first, but then slowly thrusts forward and does what is expected of him. More sucking. More licking. More twirling of my tongue around the smooth head of his cock. Even the hole in the tip feels large. Perhaps it is extra wide from all the powerful ejaculations he has experienced. I can tell it is capable of expelling a significant amount of seed, and I can't wait to see him ejaculate for me. I can't wait to show off his ejaculation to my girlfriends too.

Two more times I rest and then go back to sucking on his imposing appendage. The more I work it between my lips, the more I think about what it will feel to experience him between my lower lips as well. He will be a tight fit, I know. His cock is bigger than any cock I have ever experienced before; much bigger. Longer too! I wonder if I will be able to take the full length. I wish to try as soon as possible, but know it better to hold back and leave both of us wanting.

"Delicious," I speak the next time I back away. "Your cock! I really like sucking on it. I have a feeling that I'm going to be sucking on it a lot."

And then I go right back to sucking it some more. He hesitates longer, pauses before depositing the head of his cock back into my mouth. I can tell he is close, perhaps even closer than before. He actually does quite well. I am impressed. Most men would have climaxed long before.

"Oh God!" Soon he starts to voice his need as well. "Oh please, I can't!"

I start to move it in and out, using my lips to masturbate it. At the same time, I twirl my tongue around.

"Oh fuck!" He almost yells out. "I can't stand it."

Only then do I back away. His mouth stands open. I look up to see beads of sweat dripping down his well chiseled chest.

"What's wrong?" I ask as if nothing is out of the ordinary. "Are you having difficulty already?"

"My cock!" He expresses. "It's what you are doing to my cock. It can't take any more."

"Already?" I tease him back. "But I thought you were trained. Am I too much for you?"

"Please!" He pleads with me almost like a little boy. "My cock! I can't hold my cum any longer."

I pause to consider it. He certainly sounds sincere. In fact, he sounds desperate. I can see by the look on his face how much he fights it: The gasping mouth, the heavy breaths. Even after I back away, I can see he continues to fight.

I also see it in his cock, the way it throbs and lets out little spasms after I pull my mouth away. It looks delightful, and I want to see it some more.

"I normally don't let a slave cum so soon," I continue to tease. "I'm not yet done with you. There's more I want to use your cock."

I open my mouth, and once again he deposits himself inside. He actually whimpers as he does so. I start to feel sorry for him. Almost!

"There's so much I want to do to you," I pull away only long enough to say, suck some more, and then pull away again.

"There's so many ways I wish to enjoy you," I say between sucks. "And I'm going to try all of them!"

The shaft of his cock actually shutters when I put it back into my mouth. I think he will do it. I brace myself for the impending explosion. I twirl my tongue around the head just a little bit more before finally pulling away.

"You haven't yet been trained very well," I lie to him. Actually, he's been trained better than any servant I ever experienced, but don't dare tell him this.

More whimpers sound from above me. He sounds almost like a little baby, the way he whimpers.

"I will have to train you better, and I will have to train you often," I hint at what plans I have for his cock. "At least twice every day," I tell him how often. "Perhaps even three times. I will be putting your cock and balls to extensive use for my pleasure."

"I don't know if I will be able," He blurts out his first real words in a long time. "Last mistress. Not that often!" He speaks in disjointed sentences, like a cave man.

"Don't worry," I assure him. "Now-a-days there are medicines you can take. Like Viagra, for instance, medicines that will keep your cock hard even after it cums."

I hint at the possibility of using him multiple times in quick succession. First I will make him cum, and then I plan to go back to work on his cock some more after only a short rest to recover. Two cums in a row are always a thrill. It takes a guy a lot longer to cum the second time, enough to give me a satisfying fuck with multiple orgasms. This is what I have planned, but I don't tell him all the details just yet.

"And I have other ways of keeping your cock hard as well," I think of a few non-drug induced methods I've utilized on past servants. "You will be sure to stay hard as a rock with some of the convenient little tasks I have planned for you."

I debate if I should tell him or not. It will be so much fun to keep it as a surprise, to shock him with it later, but at the same time I feel such a tremendous desire to let him know what he is in for.

"Like dildos," I can't help but blurt out loud. I tell him of one particular fantasy I very much would like to enjoy playing out with him. "Tell me boy," I am curious to know if he has any previous experience with it. "How much experience do you have with the handling of a dildo?"

He goes silent. He says nothing in reply. I don't think he knows the intent of my question at first. Perhaps he thinks I plan to use a dildo on him. That might be fun too, later, but it's not what I have in mind at the moment.

"A dildo takes so much effort," I let him in on the particular fantasy I have in mind. "Tell me, are you accomplished in the art of using a dildo on your mistress?"

His mouth opens. He tries to talk, but nothing comes out. At the same time, I notice his cock stands up at attention as hard as ever.

"Well?" I must pry it out of him. "Are you practiced with the proper use of a dildo?"

"I am practiced," he admits finally, sounding almost out of breath. "My previous mistress," He struggles with the words. "She enjoyed me practicing with her."

"Very good!" I feel pleased. "Then I shall enjoy you practicing on my cunt as well."

He moans with my use of the word.

"My cunt," I repeat the word because I like to hear him moan. "Yes, you will get to know my cunt well over the next few weeks. Perhaps tomorrow night we will start, and I will have you demonstrate your previous training."




My Submissive



He moans some more. I can tell he looks forward to the opportunity to see me naked and then to use my cunt as well. 

"But for now, I suppose I could let you have an early release," I give him hope. "It has been a long time since your last cum. I'm sure your balls must be very full."

"They are!" He acknowledges.

I believe him. Just to make sure, I reach up to take a feel.

"Oh yes!" I agree. "They feel full. I bet they are about ready to burst."

"They are!" He acknowledges this too.

"Then I may have to allow you to release early," I tease. "But only this one time, and only after you do me one more little favor."

"Anything!" He almost yells out.

"Indeed!" I like the word he chooses. Indeed he will be doing anything for me. I will have him do lots of things. I have a lot of plans for him, most of which involve his cock. Some he will not want to do. He might even cringe if I told him what he would be doing, but he will do them anyway. In the end, he will do for me whatever I order him to do.

"I think I'll let you cum now," I give him hope. "But first let me have just one more long and satisfying suck."

I open my mouth, and this time he deposits his cock inside almost immediately. I've given him a longer than usual pause. He needs it so bad he really is willing to do anything for me.

"Oh please!" The pleas soon start up again. I hardly need to touch it, but then suck and lick on it anyway.

"My cock!" He cries out. "Oh, what you are doing to my cock."

I feel it spasm with my lips and tongue as well. It feels desperate, like it will shoot at any moment, but somehow he holds himself back just a little bit more. I don't taste any of it, not yet.

I do it once, and then I open my mouth for him to deposit it a second time.

"But you said just one time," He hesitates and refuses to put it inside at first.

"It doesn't matter what I said," I inform him. "Again!"

Still he hesitates. I think he needs the time to calm himself down and keep his cock from exploding. I don't mind, so remain kneeling in front of him and wait. It takes a full minute, but eventually he obediently deposits his appendage into my mouth one last time. He gives me the opportunity to suck upon his mighty cock just a little bit more.

"Enough," I back away after only a short suck. "You did well. I can see you are well disciplined. Not as well as you need to be, but your former mistress has given you a good start."

His cock visibly jumps after I pull back. Not because I let go and it springs back, although it does that too, but mostly because he is in such need. It visibly spasms, convulses right in front of me. It reminds me of a dry cum.

"I think it is almost time," I inform him after the spasms stop. "It is almost time for you to entertain me with your ejaculation."

"Thank you," He immediately expresses gratitude, as any male should. "Oh thank you Mistress Mellissa. You don't know how much I need it."

I smile at his submission. He looks so delightful, so under my control. He could be my slave, my very own male sex slave to do with whatever I want.

"But don't let my gracious nature go to your head," I warn. "On most occasions I will not allow you to spurt. A male ejaculation should be considered a privilege, a rare event. I will not allow you often to satisfy your own needs."

"Yes Lady Mellissa," He acknowledges. "Of course, Mistress Mellissa."

I so much like to be addressed as mistress. It makes me want to see him spurt. I want to witness how much he can spurt out, how far he can shoot it. If I am satisfied, then perhaps I will allow him to spurt more often.

"Turn to the side," I order.

He immediately does so, relieved I have given him a reprieve. His cock somehow looks even longer in side-profile. It still throbs, almost spasms when I look at it. Truly it is an impressive appendage. I can't wait to witness it operate.

"Now are you ready to give me a big release?" I ask of him.

"Oh yes lady Mellissa. Oh please!" He can hardly stand it.

"Because I want it big," I make him wait just a little bit longer to hear what I have to say. "I want to see your cock shoot a long distance, and I want to see a lot of cum shoot out of it too. Once your cock starts shooting, I want to see it shoot again and again."

"Oh yes lady Mellissa," He accepts this truth.

"Pretend like you haven't cumed in a year," I set it up for him. "Pretend you've got gallons of sperm that can't wait to escape. I want to see you try to hit that far wall," I point to a wall that must be a good five feet away. "And I want this floor to be soaked in cum by the time you are done."

His cock throbs some more. He doesn't respond this time. He doesn't need to respond, not with words anyway. His cock does all his talking for him.

"Now I'm going to jerk your cock," I reach up for it. "I'm going to pump on it hard, and I'm going to count down from three. When I reach zero, I want you to cum."

"Oh yes! Oh yes!" He pants.

"Are you ready?"

"Oh yes! Oh yes!" Again.

"On the count of three," I remind him one last time, and then attack his giant cock with a passion. As fast as I can, I pump on it. I stroke him hard, and squeeze him not so gently either.

"Three," I start slowly.

"Two," I get ready for it.

My hand flies. It looks like little more than a blur. A moan escapes his lips, and his head tosses back.

"One," I say finally, and then yell "cum" just before I let go.

And with that, a long stream of his hot, white sperm shoots almost straight up into the air. It shoots almost as tall as he stands, and shoots in a long and continuous stream. And it does so without me touching him anymore. His cock stands in the bare, seemingly unused, and simply shoots for me. It blasts forward an impressive load of sperm. It's the most impressive load of sperm, the most impressive cum shot I have ever seen. On the far side of the room, it hits the bottom of the wall.

First one, and then he shoots a second time. He grunts at the same time he does it, sounding like an animal, like the male animal he really is. Not as much volume shoots out on the second spurt, but it still looks impressive.

A third time he shoots, and then it bubbles and oozes out of his cock-hole like an erupting volcano. I quick take hold and give him short, quick strokes to make sure to get all of it out. Another spurt, the smallest so far, and then more moaning, oozing, and bubbling. I so much enjoy watching him do it, and then can't help but think about how much more my girlfriends are going to enjoy watching him do it at my next party.

The end...

Constructive comments and suggestions welcomed (especially if you have any suggestions on how I could improve my writing skills or any errors in the story). To you perverts who are about to e-mail me with the assumption that I behave like the main character in this story, please re-read the disclaimer at the start. As one of my favorite authors once put it, just because an author writes a story about vampires does not mean she pours blood on her cereal in the morning.