When my wife Erin figured out my password for a kinky sex site, my fate was sealed. That night, I came home from work and found her sitting in my favorite chair, something she had never done. My friendly, if puzzled, greeting was met with stony silence.
“What’s up, honey?” I tried uncertainly.
“The jig, Pussywipt.”
That stopped me in my tracks. How could she know my alter ego’s login? I looked at her in shock. I guess I sputtered.
“You shouldn’t have left your secret laptop where I could find it.”
“Um…”
“If you’re smart, you will shut up and listen.”
I nodded, wondering how I could define the uncomfortable direction this was taking.
She stood up and walked close, right in my face.
“So, you fantasize about dominant women and chat with them online. When did this start?”
“Um…”
“I see you’ve been a member of that site for two years. You have quite a profile.”
My mind raced, realizing that if she had read my profile, then she knew what I had posted about all the gyms that provided me with endless masturbatory fodder. To say I was scared would be an understatement.
“Well, I hope you really want it because you’re about to get it.” She looked directly into my eyes. I had never heard her speak in the tone of voice I heard at that moment.
“I, um…”
In a shocking move, she grabbed my crotch, squeezing my balls forcedly through my trousers. It hurt like hell, and I cried out.
“What the…”
“Shut up and listen to me bitch. Your life has just changed. You have two choices. We can get a dividend, and I will make a point of taking everything. Or you will become the slave you seem to aspire to be. If you choose slavery, I will own you completely like you said you wanted. Choose.”
“What, can’t we discuss this? Baby, I love..”
“Don’t call me Baby. If you wish to remain in this house, you will address me as Mistress.”
“M..m…”
“Choose.”
The look in her eyes left me in no doubt that she was serious, and as she squeezed my balls harder and pulled them down, I whimpered.
“Erin, please?”
“Last chance, bitch. It’s Mistress. Stay or go.”
“I love you.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Strip and get on your knees.” When I hesitated, she squeezed even harder and pulled down harder. The pain was excruciating, and it was making me feel nauseous.
I fell to my knees. She laughed.
“Get those clothes off. Listen as you strip. Here are the rules that you will live by from now on. Any decoration will result in severe punishment. I may be new to this but looking at your profile has begun my education. Stop dawdling, get those clothes off. You will never wear anything in this house unless I instruct you to wear it. Usually, you will be naked. When you get that belt off, hand it to me.”
It was complicated undressing while kneeing, particularly getting out of my pants and boxes, but finally, I managed. When she saw that my cock was stiffening, she laughed.
“You love this, obviously,” and she kicked my cock. “Belt, bitch.”
I slipped the belt through its loops and held it out tenatively.
“Until we can acquire better equipment, this will be my whip, Pussywhipt.”
My cock kept betraying how aroused this was making me. It was rock hard. She swung my belt, and it smacked against my turgid member. She laughed. It was a cruel laugh I had never heard from her before.
“Your profile indicates that cock and ball torture is something you fantasize about. That sounds like fun. We will be exploring your interests in full, Pussywhipt. That one and several of the others you listed may amuse me. Tell me, do you fantasize about experiencing these things at my hands, or is it just the women you’ve chatted with online?”
“With you, Er… Mistress.”
“Mmm, that’s better.” She swung my belt, so it impacted my balls. It wasn’t a hard strike, but I yelped at the pain. She smiled broadly, “I’m definitely going to enjoy this.”
Three more swings of my belt, each applied with increasing force, made me cry out at each impact.
“Why did we wait so long? This is definitely going to work for me. Go to your closet, get four neckties and lie on the bed. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Do not touch that cock. If you do, the punishment will be truly horrible. Don’t doubt me. That cock is now mine. If you ever touch it again, you will regret it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
***
She made me wait a lot longer than a few minutes. It seemed like hours. When she did enter our bedroom, she came as a woman I had never seen. She wore thigh-high boots and a leather corset. Her makeup was almost theatrical. I Couldn’t believe my eyes.
“You’ll discover that I did some shopping today. Do you like this outfit?”
“Yes, you look amazing, Mistress.”
“MY cock speaks for you, Pussywhipt.”
She took her time tying me spread-eagled on the bed. She lashed my neckties tightly around my ankles and wrists. Our bed is king-sized, and it was extremely uncomfortable when she stretched me to tie them off on the bedposts. She nodded, pleased with her work.
When she forced a pillow under my ass, it raised my genitals, and she took the opportunity to fondle me a bit. She cupped my balls and squeezed them gently at first but with increasing force until I moaned and whimpered at her touch.
“These things belong to me. They are my balls, not yours. You will think of them that way. “Mistress’ balls,” UNDERSTAND!”
Her voice was like a whipcrack, and she punctuated it with a crushing squeeze that forced a scream from me. Then she released them, drew her hand back and delivered a slap that hurt more than the squeeze. It elicited Another scream.
“What are you whining about, bitch. Your profile says this is what you want. If you don’t want me to hurt you there, why does your profile say you crave cock and ball torture.”
I saw in her eyes that my horrified look inspired the gleeful smile she returned.
“Don’t worry, bitch. I’ll be careful not to damage them too badly. That would ruin all the fun that we’ll have when I torture these babies,” and she squeezed them again. This time she also pulled them up, lifting me higher off the pillow.
I screamed at the terrible pain exploiting in my balls as she laughed at my plight. When she finally lowered me, I was panting.
“How was that? Nice? Is that what you were hoping Miss Treatmen would do to you?”
If she read my chats with that Dominatrix, she knew the darkest exaggerated fansies I had described. If she brought THOSE to life…
“Tomorrow we are going on a shopping trip. I guarantee you that every fantasy you’ve ever had to be realized, starting now and for the rest of your life, bitch.”
With that, she delivered a series of ten hard spanks to my balls, or should I say Her balls.
Her phrase from earlier leaped to my mind, “Be careful what you wish for. You might get it.”
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