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Subject: {ASSM} The Cumslut 01/05 {John Bridge} (Fdom MM oral bondage cbt anal sad fist ws scat FMM)
Date: Tue,  3 Jul 2001 23:10:03 -0400
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"The Cumslut"
    by John Bridge


---------

Chapter 1

---------


Her door clicked shut behind me, signaling the beginning of
our first real session. Mistress Dominique and I had been
somewhat heterosexual lovers in the recent past and that had
evolved into a unique friendship, which through my
introduction of her to S&M had brought us to this beginning.

We met during my divorce. She was 5'9 in her stocking feet,
half-Spanish, half African American, so her looks, skin and
body were from fantasyland. Classic beautiful features of
Mediterranean and African were sculpted over her face, and a
deep copper glow appeared over her skin when excited. Her
breasts were large. She wore a 44-DDD bra and, for a woman
in her late 30's, only a natural sag because of their
tremendous volume. Large, dark nipples, the thickness of my
pinky finger and slightly over an inch in length, jutted out
from expansive deep and dark, copper-colored areolas. Her
ass, one of the first sights I had of her, was marvelous, a
modified bubble ass of her maternal African American
heritage--but a little more wide for her size and perfect!

"Take off your clothes, now, Cumslut!" her strong voice
commanded from behind me.

I immediately obeyed. My cock jutted out through my jockeys
as I pulled them down and within me a warm glow, a fever of
sorts, a feeling of total submissiveness, burned. Harder and
longer than I could ever imagine, or remember my cock became
completely the center of my consciousness. I knew what to
expect somewhat and this 6.5 organ controlled me completely;
my bliss to do whatever she wanted just to have this epitome
of erections.

My divorce was over my latent homosexual urges, ones I had
had as a teenager but had suppressed completely. My wife
reacted badly when I came out to her about my urges. And not
long after that, I began going to Adult Bookstores and
watching gay films, masturbating incessantly. A few times I
slid my hardon through the Glory Hole and was pleasured by a
gay in the next booth. So much did I want to kneel and
service a cock with my mouth! But something inside me held
me back

Dominique and I had gone out once; we had a good time,
dinner, a show, and few drinks and because she was open and
intelligent, I opened up to her like I did to me wife. Why?
I am not sure, but I knew if I attempted to have a sexual
relationship with her (and I did want too badly!) the same
dysfunction that had been occurring with my wife would haunt
me. So I gambled.

She reached up under my legs and gripped my balls tightly as
she commanded, "Place your hands behind you." She secured
cold steel handcuffs on my wrists. The fever deepened; my
cock jumped and pre-cum spilled from its opening and I
sensed a deepening fever, a deepening surrender to my
Mistress. "Now kneel, Cumslut," she said and held onto my
cuffed wrists, pulling my arms up as high as they would go
as I knelt.

In the long run, my gamble paid off. After our date she said
she wanted to see me again, but not right away. She gave me
her phone number, told me to call the next night and we
would continue our talk about my sexuality. I did. For the
next three weeks we talked almost every night. She advised
me to see a therapist. I did not. She advised me to give
into my lust and kneel to the Glory Hole. Eventually I did.

A Friday after work, in a booth, my cock as hard as ever,
and I knelt down and slipped my finger through the opening.
The occupant stood and slid the biggest, blackest hard cock
I had ever seen into my open, waiting mouth. The taste was
acrid, salty, yet a comfortable feeling and a fever of lust
swept through me. I wanked as I sucked on this cock, and
within a few minutes I shot a load all over my pants. I
stood, leaving black the erection pulsating through the
hole, moist from my saliva, beckoning, jumping in
anticipation of more. But I ran from the store and got in my
car. Within five minutes I had another erection as I drove
in a stunned state, completely astonished at how turned on I
was, how I had enjoyed the taste, the warmth of that cock
deep in my mouth. With this rainbow of feelings overwhelming
me, I foolishly wanked as I drove, finally cumming insanely
as I sped 55 mph down a familiar road.

She released my hands and they dropped and hit my ass. "My
little Cumslut, this is our true first session. The other
ones were role-play and useless. You have awakened dangerous
elements within my true sadistic nature. I now yearn to
punish you, to dominate you. I have become the woman in
those magazines, a dominating bitch with an insatiable pussy
that moistens at the thought of whipping a Cumslut like
you."

A secure blindfold slipped over my eyes; I could not see a
thing. My breathing was noticeably heavier, and I shuddered
inside. A fear that was as deep as my fever fed my cock.

"I see your little wank is standing taller than ever,
Cumslut. Know I did not give you permission to be erect, so
I need to punish you already. My, oh, my, we haven't even
begun and I am dripping already awaiting your upraised, bare
ass. Then I can paint a painful masterpiece of welts over
you ass and legs. Three times only will I ask you this, and,
at the third time, if you answer yes, your fate is sealed as
my slave forever or until I trash you like the Cumslut you
are. Do you wish to continue submitting to me as my slave
knowing full well that all of the scenarios you have told
me, written to me, et cetera, I am eager to live out?"

"Yes, I am."

The sound of her slap across my face resounded in the room
as powerfully as the pain spread through my head as it
reeled backwards from the force of the blow.

"Don't you ever speak to me without addressing me as
Mistress," she said as a second equally powerful blow landed
on the other side of my face.

"Do you understand, slave?"

 From a place far away came her words because the word pain
buzzed like a six-foot gnat in my brain.

"Yes, Mistress."

In the silence that followed, the gnat shrunk and I became
aware that my cock jumped with lust at the tall figure I
guessed was still standing in front of me. It surely was
vomiting its pre-cum on the floor. I could've cum right
then, but held off.

If my little slave could speak, it would have begged her to
whip me, to torture me, to take me to the dark recesses of
my imagination that I had revealed to her. Everything she
was doing was what I had suggested to her be part of our
sessions, when it came about. I had told her to be
imaginative and sadistic.

Dominique was interested in my story of the Glory Hole. She
had asked me a thousand questions. Then, she scolded me for
not tasting the black cocks cum, for running away from my
bliss and jacking-off while driving. Her advice was to go
back to the Glory Hole and suck all night if I felt like it.

I did take her advice, although it was at another place. The
Garden Theatre was an adult movie place that had a small gay
film showing, Glory Hole Heaven. I went, and to my delight I
found myself in a dark alcove that ran the length of the
mini-gay theatre. The smell of cum was adrift on the stale
air. My cock jumped to attention as I walked into the
darkness.

It was completely dark. I could sense people were in there,
but could not see a thing. Within moments a hand grabbed my
hard cock, an arm slid about my shoulders, and I was face to
face with a man who enjoyed kissing and fondling me. My hand
found a nice size cock jutting out his opened fly, and I
jerked it slowly. He tried to kiss me, and I turned away not
wanting to do it. He persisted and I gave in only because I
wanted to suck the meat in my hand.

His tongue slipped into my mouth; the taste of what must be
cum filled me. He had recently sucked a cock. The kiss bored
me, except for the cum taste. That had an effect like a drug
on my being. I slid to my knees and grabbed the cock and
jammed it into my eager open mouth. He moaned as I sucked.
His hand came to my head and he pulled it toward him as his
member slid down my throat. I pulled my head back to
breathe, feeling successful and accomplished; I had taken
this cock so deeply without practice, almost naturally. Just
like the guys in the movies.

"Yeah, baby, take it all," he moaned as he pulled my head
toward him. My nose dug into his pants as I could feel its
head trying to go further down my throat. Time stood still
as I wanked, and miraculously his load splashed down my
throat as my own shot into the darkness. We both seemed to
cum forever, but finally I stood. But not until after
licking every remaining drop of cum from his shaft. The
taste was magical.

"So you want to be my slave, Cumslut?" she asked
rhetorically. "Well, you got what you wished for in me,
baby. Open your mouth and swallow this pill; it's Viagra.
It'll keep you goin' when the tough part gets here."

Her tone revealed the inherent sarcasm in the use of the
term 'baby.' Just as the guy had said it in the theatre
before.  I had told her every last detail of that
experience. That was the first time she had called me a
cumslut. We both laughed at that, but she reiterated she was
serious. I was a cumslut and should act on it, especially if
the idea of being with a man like I had been with women was
repulsive to me.

"You say you want punished for being a Cumslut and for
sucking guys off. You want humiliation and torture baby,
you'll git in spades. Stand up!"

Slowly standing, feeling disoriented as her hand grabbed my
balls. She slowly squeezed and twisted. The pain shot
through me.

"Do you want me to squeeze harder, Cumslut?"

"Do as you will, Mistress."

Her other hand bounced off my face just as powerfully as
before.

"Answer my questions directly, Cumslut!"

"Yes, Mistress, squeeze harder."

And she did. Bright lights of pain shot through my blinded
eyes and my stomach turned. I must have partially fainted
because I found my self on the floor; her boot resting at my
throat, partially blocking my breathing.

"Cumslut, do you wish me to strangle you with my boot?"

"No, Mistress."

Her hand reached and grabbed a fistful of hair, and she
pulled with strength that I found amazing. "Up on your
knees, slave," and somehow I was on my knees in a second.

"I want you to know," she said in a different tone, "that if
you had said yes to my last question, I could've complied
with your wishes. Do you understand, Cumslut?"

I paused and was rewarded with a face slap.

"Answer me!"

"Yes, Mistress, I understand."

"I doubt that's true, but nevertheless Cumslut, do you wish
to continue as my slave?"

The third time she asked.

Fear now pushed against my throat, and I gambled by pausing
slightly. Then, I answered with the only response possible.
Where else could I be in the situation I was in, being
treated the way I was with as beautiful a Mistress as any
man would want? Needless to say, I spoke through my cock,
which was as hard as ever.

"Yes, Mistress, I want to be your slave."

"That's a good little Cumslut. I knew the answer before your
wank told you to say yes. I saw it's hardness the whole
time. What a pathetic piece of shit you are, Cumslut. I
questioned whether you were telling me the truth when you
suggested this. I never imagined that until recently all
those pics you sent and all those stories were your true
delight. I have told you over and over to be the gay you are
meant to be and you can't! So I have you now forever. You
are on par with my dildo, only a toy for sexual pleasure and
amusement to be stored away until needed. And oh will you
ever amuse me and my friends."

After I had parted from that guy in the dark, I bumped into
another, another, and another. All were delighted to cum
down my throat. Dominique had me going to the Garden as
often as I could, sometime a week or two in a row every
night!

My enslavement had begun before either of us was aware of
it; she didn't command it, but just suggested activities and
I would obey the suggestion and then report to her how many
cocks I sucked and whatever else happened.

It was during that cocksucking mania time that I found an
S&M magazine called "Bitches In Boots." I devoured shelves
of them, wrote next to the pics my desire for this or that
and sent them to her. Letters spelling out scenarios of what
she could do. And finally, only two months ago we had two
sporadic sessions, unlike this; role-play actually, a little
of not too much.

She had not the voice or the posture. Play-acting only!
These were a disappointment. I had not said anything to her,
but had decided we should not do it any more because it was
not worth it. I never was able to cum or really get hard. I
was able to bring her orally to orgasm several times [an
absolute delight!], but...

Then, she called only two days ago. Miraculously, all was in
place, the voice, and the tone. She had me wanking off over
the phone, telling me that this Friday was the day. And the
session would probably last all weekend through Sunday
evening late. To be prepared!

Kneeling in the silence, awaiting her next move, I came up
above the feverish waters I was drowning in and had a flash
of reality, but only for a second.

The third time;the third question. And I had answered yes,
and my cock rejoiced, and my mind swam in an ocean of
conflicting emotions and wild thoughts. My cock easily
defeated me. It was I now.

I never asked how it all came about, but as I knelt there,
who cared. I am hers to do with, as she likes.

But good God, she said she could have choked the life out of
me with her boot; I would be an amusement, a useless dildo,
for her AND her friends. Suddenly, like a drowning man, I
truly began to know fear. Yet it only made my cock harder.


   -- continues in Chapter Two here in this newsgroup --


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