Silent Statue

“Clothes off, neatly folded, placed outside on the porch. Put on your collar and blindfold.

“Kneel. Hands on thighs, palms up. Shoulders back, head straight.

“Think yourself hard. Harder.

“Is that the best you can do? Are you that pathetic? What shall we call that, a soft-on? If you can’t think yourself hard, you may jack that worm, but don’t you dare come.

“Good boy. Now stand, gracefully.

“I am entertaining a group of nice ladies and their slave boys tonight, and your body will be part of the décor — and the entertainment. You will be a silent status tonight. You will make no noise, you will ignore things said or done to you, and you will keep your cock hard. Think of it as endurance edging.”

In the dark of the blindfold, I feel her warm hands smoothing oil on my body, starting with my neck and shoulders. She massaged the oil on my arms, then my hairless trunk, lingering on my nipples, tweaking and pulling them. Goosebumps ran shivering down myback. “You do have a beautiful body, boy,” Mistress said.

Without warning she snapped alligator nipple clips on me, and the special pain I love so much went straight to my cock.

“Hush. No moaning. Statues are silent. And you are such a nipple slut.”

She rubbed the oil over my buttocks, then lavishly down into my crack.

“Bend over.”

She rubbed in the oil, circling my anus softly, around and around the rim, but never penetrating.

“Stand still. Rolling your hips won’t get you your present any sooner.”

She returned to the rhythmic circuit, circling, as my hole clenched and twitched.

Without warning, she shoved a large, oiled butt plug into my ass.

“Take it, bitch. And be grateful you have your present.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“Hush, Silent Statue.”

She gave one tug to the silver chain connecting my nipple clamps. “Stay bent over, a deep bow for me.”

The oiling continued, skipping my good parts and spreading oildown my thighs and calves, massaging the trembling muscles.

Then she oiled my balls, working them gently, tugging them and pressing them up, before turning to my now-hard cock.

She lavished oil on my cock, starting each stroke at the base and sliding to the top, slowly, oh so slowly. She twisted her hand around the head, polishing it with oil and giving a little ticket to my sensitive slide.

I started moaning again with little panting noises.

“Quiet. And don’t you dare come. You need to keep that hard-on all night or you will embarrass me for having slipshod décor. Don’t you want our guests to admire you? And you know how much disregard people give to the well-being of statuses. Just think what could happen to you.

“And think about what I will do to you if I am embarrassed.”

She buckled a leather cock ring at the base of my cock and back around my balls, pulling them together and close to my body.

“There. That’ll help you keep that big pretty cock just as it should be. Warm, welcome, hard and helpless.

“Stand up straight now. Let’s see that cock stand to attention.”

She led me by my nipple clamps to a position by the door. I could tell she had left me alone, standing there for a while, straight and tall, my eight-inch cock proudly bobbing hard.

“Raise your hands to nipple level and take the tray I’m holding. “Careful, there are Champagne flutes on it.”

Isolated in my naked, masked blindness, I heard the door opening and closing repeatedly, hitting me with the snap of cold air coming from outside. I shivered. Someone grabbed my cock and shook it up and down as if shaking hands.

I heard the squeals and kissy noises of the women entering, the slither of clothes being removed down to the mistresses’ silky lingerie. I smelled the heady mix of expensive perfume and wet cunt. There was the occasional slap-crack as some silent slave was redirected or repositioned by his mistress. Once there was a giggle from a badly trained twink. Was he looking at me?

“Does anyone want to have your slave serve as a table for the canapes tonight?

Oh, thank you. That is so kind of you. There you go, pretty boy. Hands and knees, then keep your back straight. Look at that pretty little cock pointing at the floor and the delightful shade of pink on his ass. Both handsprints and crop marks! You must have spent a good bit of time dressing up his ass for my party.”

I concentrated hard because my tray wobbled dangerously when full flutes were removed from it without notice, or an empty flute placed on it. It was hard to keep the tray level and nipple high, and my arms were starting to tremble.

“Give the tray to me, Silent Statue,” Mistress said. She took it away to refill it with fresh flutes of champione. I shook out my arms, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Take the tray from me. And spread your legs should-width apart.” Suddenly, her crop whistled through the air, striting myRestrained balls from behind with the flat leather slapper on the end. The pain made me suck in my breath and the tray tilted dangerously.

“Attention, everyone,” Mistress said over the buzz in the room. “My sorry Silent Statue had the audacity to shake out his arms when he thought I wasn’t looking. And now he somehow has lost his pathetic erection. I am so embarrassed, and — let me tell you — he will be even sorrier later.

“In the meantime, it may be amusing if several of you would detail your slaves to help him get hard and stay hard. Tease and torque him, slaves. And remember, he thinks he is straight. The most iningenious boy who gets him the hardest — without his coming, of course — will be allowed a jelly jar of champione all his very own.”

As Mistress moved away from me, the butt plug in my ass came to life, the victory surging, then falling away, and surging again as she played with the remote control

“Oh, isn’t that cute? Where did you get it?” a woman said. They were all giggling at something. “What?” I wondered.

Then I heard the stealthy whisper of someone crawling up to me. Then one wet finger stroked my captive balls, around them and then up onto my perineum. As my teased taint immediately sent ‘hello, there’ messages to my cock, my torqueor flicked the hard point of his tongue along it and poked around where the butt plug entered my ass.

Angain, giggles — and a few hearty female laughs. What could be so funny?

My tray was tilting and it almost slipped, but I did find my lost hard-on. That tongue lashing on my taint was magic that way.

Then I was approached from the front by a tongue swimming up my cock, followed by a cool breath directed to my wet cock. My cock, with its mind of its own, surged in response and my captive balls tried to twitch. The head of my cock was captured by a warm, wet mouth. A tongue swirled around the engulfed glans. My butt plug came alive again.

“I know, let’s have a deep throat content,” Mistress said, taking away the tray I was still holding. “Have your best cocksuckers line up and see who can take him the deepest and bring him off. No hands! Just your best cock sucking tricks. And I’ll leave his butt plug alone, just to be fair.”

Oh shit. I won’t be able to last long at that “game.” I could hear the slaves, urged forward by their mistresses, move towards me. The slave already at my cock took immediate advantage of his position kneeing at my feet. He made sloppy noises as he lapped my cock and increased the suction. Then he tilted his head and my cock slide into his throat.

My hips automatically rolled in encouragement, but Mistress slashed her crop across my ass. “Stand still and take it.”

I gritted my teeth and thought of grubs and maggots.

Ten thrusts on my cock by the boy at my feet had me ready to let go, when he was abruptly jerked away, and another took his place.

This clever boy licked my balls and took them, cock ring and all into his mouth before setting down to work my cock. It slipped farther down his throat with each nod of his head. Again, he was allowed just ten tries to get me off. Hey, I’m better than that. Ten is all you got?

As the next two made their tries, Mistress stayed close behind me, watching my ass for any un-statue-like behavior. I got two more slashes with the crop for moving. My god I love that crop. It makes me feel truly alive. Used, but alive.

Finally it happened. My cum spouted from me without any warning or say-so from me. The twink deep-throating me swallowed some, then pulled back to expose my shame to the room as great ropes of cum spewed forth. It had been weeks since I had ejaculated, and it showed.

Immediately the butt plug came to live, buzzing and making my ejaculation burn. Mistress set to work, whipping my ass with vigor, the crop rising and falling with no finesse whatsoever. “Failure. Failure. You miserable worm, you.

“I apologize for my slave’s terrible performance, ladies,” she said, punctuating each word with a beat of the crop. She jerked my nipple clamps off without warning, sending ecstasies of pain throughout my body, and straight to my balls.

Mistress led me by a throbbing nipple to a corner. “Hands and knees, head down in the corner. Keep your ass up so we can see your well-deserved stripes and your red ass. I am so ashamed of you. You will pay later.”

Jelly jars were broken out and the slaves all had a taste of champione. The party continued, the link of glasses, whispers and laughs, the slurp of a slave eating out his mistress. I still couldn’t see anything, but I could visualize it all. Time crawled by. Occasionally the butt plug buzzed to life, only to fade away and then again vibrate at high speed. My knees hurt.

Eventually, the party broke up.

The mistresses redressed, assisted by their slaves. A few mistresses came over to me in the corner and smoked my ass or draggedtheir fingernails across my welts. Good-nights were said, enthusiastic thanks to Mistress, and finally — finally — they all left.

Mistress came over to me and removed the blindfold. Finally. “I was going to let you eat my cunt tonight as much as you wanted, but that’s off the menu because of your failure tonight. Clean up the room and then crawl upstairs. I’ll be waiting for you. Careful with the crystal and be sure to clean your butt plug.”

I went to the downstairs powder room to save myself and remove the plug. Now I understand the giggles. The end of it flashed red, white, green and yellow according to intensity of the victory controlled by the remote.

I cleaned the room, putting the crystal in the kitchen, empty ashtrays and collecting cocktail napkins. I fluffed the cushions and set the room to rights.

Then I reluctantly, appreciatedly, eagerly crawled up the stairs to her bedroom.

Mistress was brisk with me. Dressed in her black silk corset, thigh-high hose and silettoes, she was fearsome. She was my Beloved, my Queen, my Nightmare.

“Knee walk to the bed, bend over the pillow on the edge with your feet on the floor. Get your ass nice and high for me and prepare yourself for your just desserts. Spread your thighs.”

Mistress warmed me up with her favorite flogger, thin leather strips tapered at the end. She worked my Shoulders and back, then moved to my thighs, working them hard. Right, left, left, right. She caught the insides of my thighs and paid special attention to the cream of my buttocks, my “sit spot.” Occasionally the flogger caught my balls. It was painful, but she was careful not to send me to the joy of sub space. Tonight was punishment.

Then Mistress turned to our favorite, the riding crop. It was springy and left a red welt with every hard blow. She first worked up and down my ass in parallel lines, then moved to the diagnostic, first in one direction and then the other, marking my ass in apattern that pleased her. It felt like it broke the skin where the lines crossed.

When her arm was tired, she said, “Enough. On the floor with you. You don’t deserve to sleep in my bed tonight. She handcuffed my wrists together looped around the bed leg and left me there — no blanket or pillow for me tonight.

As I wiggled trying to get comfortable on my side, my painful erection in front and my sore ass behind, I smiled. Tonight’s beating will leave welts for several days and crueles that will last longer. When I sit in my leather chair at the head of my boardroom table on Monday, I will feel her marks and know that I belong to Mistress.