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fickstueck-fs14 · 12 days ago

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Why crucifying my slave is My ultimate experience…

by Kristin von Stahlschmerz

“My naked man dropped into full suspension, moans of agony whispering towards me. My strong man. My man who swung the pick axe. My man who lifted heavy rock by hand and shovel. Hard-bodied and rugged and in perfect shape and size. My strong man now struggling for air, struggling to keep his powerful body controlled.

Gravity tortures him, threatening to impale his anal entrance. Compression on his chest and diaphragm make each breath he draws more shallow than the previous one. His heart rate gradually increases in a losing battle to supply oxygen-rich blood to muscles and organs.

A scene of beauty. A scene of tragedy. The naked male form in all its glory. Stretched, arms flared diagonally left and right, chest thrust forward, abdomens caved inward, legs splayed, struggling feet planted to stipes or wall but unable to remain there for more than seconds at a time. As his lungs gradually loose ability to intake sufficient air, his heart races frantically, pumping oxygen-poor blood throughout his body. My man’s phallus filled with blood, but the blood is unable to leave, his involuntary erection adding to his misery. His heroic battle is a losing one, a slow, torturous demise, and I can not hold on to see it, do not bear to look away.

My crucified man. Pitifully you moan, your failing strength unable to mount resistance. Humiliated. Degraded. Crucified. Naked. Defenseless. Mercilessly used.”

borrowed from “Tales of Men on the Cross and Women who put them there - Crucified and Milked” by Jasper Mc Cutcheon

There may be several reasons for that. But here are some that apply to me.

You are largely submissive and for me it is not just a kinky role play. Crucifying my slave is rather extreme in every respect and it is the most powerful evidence of love I can give to you.

Naked BDSM crucifixion is technically and physically demanding but certainly worth the effort. Of course, the association it has with religion and culture also plays a role, as the weird idea that it historically was an extremely cruel method of punishment and some times even execution. But nowadays it can be an extremely exciting proof for those who dare to undergo it. Maybe just because of its intended strong humiliation. It has always been done fully naked, any loin cloth in classical pictures is weird and fully contradictory to the effect that crucifixion is intended to have. Further humiliation before and during the crucifixion will add to the effects, for example being stripped forcefully or being whipped. It is real fun to require the victim to drink one liter of water shortly before crucifixion: this will force him to urinate publicly while hanging at the cross!

Maybe after reading this you will understand why I really love to lie you down naked on a large cross on the floor to be tied to it, erected and displayed for my pleasure.

But first I will give you the rules of the cross.

I prefer your crucifixions to be:

1. Completely naked and barefoot as it is classically intended. It has always been done fully naked, any loin cloth in classical pictures is weird and fully contradictory to the effect that crucifixion is intended to have.

2. With lots of spectators and outside, some people strong enough to erect the cross if you are tied to the cross lying down (which I prefer) but I also love to have you for my own and crucify you in our bedroom.

3. On a classical cross, with the standing pole as high as possible. An elevated T cross is highly exciting but also the X cross, with a wild spread eagle posture but also above ground level. Both postures require effort with very erotic movements of the victim and are very humiliating!

4. Arms and legs tied only at the wrists and ankles: I do not tie upper arms, that will give too much support and restrict movement. I love to see you dancing.

5. I Never use a foot rest on the standing pole, I just tie the bare feet and ankles together to the pole, even when crucifying at the X cross I make sure that the soles are as flat as possible at the poles. On a classical cross I make sure the legs remain slightly flexed, so the victim cannot extend the legs and stand up with locked knees. Feet can be loosely tied, the victim will never try to loosen up these ties, as they do provide support for the body…

6. If possible, the victim to be crucified should be tied to the cross when lying on the ground. The effect of erecting the cross is very strong, for the victim as well as the spectators. At that time, the typical crucifixion effect is suddenly felt and the victim will start to move to find the best position to hang… I use strong men to erect the cross with the victim attached or, when I am alone I use a pulley block.

7. Fully shaved body and genitals, for a better nude look and of course, fully shaved armpits as well as these are typically exposed when you are crucified!

8. Several insertion places for the anal dildo in the pole, depending on height of the victim. Large dildos can be used, the body weight will enable insertion. But I make sure to use lots of lubrication for anal impalement. I place it at the right height, so that your self-impalement is inevitable.

9. I will humiliate you in any way, by gagging, blindfolding, shouting, whipping, touching, jerking off, stimulating orgasm, and the requirement to urinate, hanging in public. I always let the victim drink 1 liter of water shortly before crucifixion. And I always use my fantasy!

10. I will never allow you an orgasm while nailed to the cross (and also not otherwise).

When the day finally arrives, you are extremely scared, but also excited more than you ever have been and in a very special way. You nearly panic at the thought of actually being crucified. During our journey into bondage, you have experienced many different types of pain and humiliation, but everything about your crucifixion is so much worse. The inability to move and learning how to do the dance so that you get a short relief from your discomfort. The obscene display of your naked body dancing for me on the cross. It is not long and you begin to plead in earnest and in most subtle ways to be released.

But that is not to be…

You have such a beautiful body that it would be a shame not to put it on full display. The beauty of the cross. What makes me relish this moments is looking at my beautiful man struggling, his muscles outlining the smooth skin of his lean body. The cross displays your body perfectly.

You are naked. Your arms are extended and firmly tied to the cross beams. Your ankles and bare feet are tied to the poles or (also very good) are fixated in cuffs, on each side of the pole.

You are tied to the cross when lying on the floor. That is exciting enough but it is such a strong effect when the cross is lifted up and erected by some strong men and put in the ground. This is technically demanding and safety is always my primary concern. But it is so extremely exciting when you then suddenly are put on display, preferably rather high with your genitals at face height of the spectators, hanging fully naked with your arms widely stretched out.

But that is only the start…

Few people realize how special that feeling is: looking up to my man hanging at the cross. Your legs cannot be closed but remain widely spread and you really have to struggle to remain comfortable. You have to move, to do a kind of dance, as someone put it: “that only those that have been crucified know the steps to”. And this dance you perform gets more and more intense the longer it lasts. Watching you dance at the cross always reminds me of the Bolero.

You are not simply hanging but it requires a lot of effort from you. The weight on your arms feels strange, even breathing is a bit difficult. Moving your naked body up and down, forward and backward, in a way to feel a bit more comfortable has an incredibly erotic effect, for yourself as well as for spectators. Spectators often get highly excited by the view. But for the crucified slave there is no choice and it’s a very humiliating dance. It is highly arousing too, for that very reason, which is rapidly visible, men will become erect and women will show excessive lubrication dripping down…

This part should take some time, at least 30 or 40 minutes, sometimes even longer. I want to give you the time to concentrate on yourself and to think of what is happening to you. And why.

For me it is a very intense feeling. Whether alone or with a lot of people present and in particular when you are crucified outside, hanging and struggling fully naked with widely stretched arms simply is sensational. Your stimulated genitals, preferably smoothly shaved, are fully exposed…

I know this time is extremely humiliating for you as you are exposed in the most indecent of manner. And reduced to full nakedness. You feel helpless, humiliated and afraid of what’s coming up next.

As time progresses, I come to you to play with your nudity. Your body is slapped, nipples horribly pinched, and fingers inserted into you. I take my time to examine you, running my hands over your naked flesh, enjoying caressing your cock, balls and nipples and intimidating you by struking the tip of the whip across your flesh. No words are spoken, just silent psychological intimidation. Can you stand it, my poor, beloved slave?

Then, I spread your scared ass cheeks apart and smoothly touch the entrance of your anal passage. Your passion overwhelms your awareness of public exhibition. Your phallus erected and displayed vividly and you are panting as you pray to your Goddess to give you strength.

The way your legs are splayed and the way you start dancing on your cross exhibits your now rock hard cock in the most obscene manner possible. You have been treated to a marvelous sight: A strong and beautiful man whipped, crucified, and seemingly flaunting his sexual attributes right in my face.

With your legs drawn up and your ankles bound to the sides of the cross like this, your legs spread apart and your erection is displayed obscenely with no way you could close your thighs to me looking at you.

You turn your head from side to side in agony and shame, knowing you can not escape the gaze of your Goddess. You realize that I want to torture your exposed body and humiliate you, my slave.

But the humiliation hasn’t even started…

Most of your crucifixions include a special additional predicament for the punished person, that is the crotch peg, also called the Cornu… Placement of the Cornu should be done carefully, most BDSM crosses are prepared for this feature. A large protruding penis-shaped dildo, well lubricated, is placed on the vertical pole, pointing upside and a little forward. The height is such that the victim can only escape anal penetration by the peg by lifting his body very high, by pulling the body up by his arms. But the tied arms and legs allow very little upward movement and it is very strenuous to maintain that position.

So, when the dildo is well placed, after some time the victim simply has to succumb and will lower his or her body on the dildo and become impaled.

You, my nude slave, can see the smile flashed up at you as you feel firm hands groping to find the slot fashioned for the peg. It is placed under your private entrance making you look double phallused.

When you are exhausted by your writhings caused by pushing up at the cross in the hopeless attempt to escape you are forced to settle down and impale yourself anally. You try to stay up as long as you can but it is a matter of time before you have to lower yourself onto the Cornu. My poor nude slave, I love you. When you sink down on the Cornu and it penetrates your anus your cock bulges and spits out an ingenue jet of precum and sperm.

But you are not completely emptied now…

You squat over the sedile like some jockey riding the peg in a spectacle of obscenity.

Usually, you cannot reverse the penetration once it has occurred. Since the dildo is placed directly under your anal entrance it will always find its way inside… But even for strictly heterosexual men (as you are), it is a wonderful sensation. You proved it with your first spitting. That is for two reasons: the dildo provides some welcome support in your struggle hanging at the cross and… it is indeed highly stimulating sexually!

So, you will start grinding up and down on the dildo. You try to control yourself, stay calm and not to move but you cannot help it, you are grinding up and down. Many times you try to will yourself not to do the dance and to succumb to silence, but your body will not obey. You are dancing for me. Bolero. You feel a very strong prostate massage in this special position, much different from any other anal penetration. Inevitably, your erection will become stronger and equally inevitably, you’ll yield to the urge to orgasm.

But only to the urge…

You are effectively fucking and milking yourself. Fully open, hanging for all to see, with a rock hard penis in front of you, you’ll have to ejaculate, hanging naked at the cross. I have experienced this several times now and these have been the most forceful forced ejaculations I ever gave to you. Your sperm falls down all the way and is welcomed or even caught by horny spectators. Also for you, to have a fully public ejaculation while being crucified in front of your Goddess is an extremely strong sensation. You feel humiliated, helpless, ashamed but this is the holiest sacrifice that you can offer to your Goddess. Sacrificing your sperm, without having an orgasm, nailed to the cross. I love you so much, my nude slave.

But it is not over yet…

Now you become aware of the pressure in your bladder. Embarrassed, you helplessly try to tightly squeeze your legs together. But each time you pull up to breathe, you can feel the urine dribbling down your legs. My poor slave, I can feel you fear. You fear that I might plug your penis. Again and again you can feel the dribbling. It is nearly impossible for you to hold it anymore. Finally, you spread your legs as much as you can and, staring numbingly across the jeering smiles of your Goddess, release the trapped fluids. You can hear the splatter the golden arc makes as it strucks the bare floor below you. You feel ashamed as you hang on your cross– unable to clean yourself according to the dictates of civilization.

Finally, there’s no descent from the cross. This would apply to spectators friendly enough to release you… No, you are kept hanging at the cross after your ejaculation for more than half an hour, naked, helpless on the dildo, touched and humiliated all the time.

You are fully exhausted afterwards but it is also wonderful…

My crucified slave … My artwork.

Kristin von Stahlschmerz

#fs14 #submission

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fickstueck-fs14 · 12 days ago

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Joyful Anticipation

or: Paying the price for your new name fickstück

Kristin von Stahlschmerz

He’s already tied up for the whipping, spreadeagled in the middle of the room. Its body wide open and unprotected. This night will be hard for him, as the number of lashes it has to receive tonight is 228. The number has been determined by the attention it rose with a special post on my blog, a vote for its name. To use this vote to determine the number of lashes was an idea of a lovely friend of mine: Lady Eve. Thank you my Dear for this wonderful suggestion. I must admit I never had thought the number would rise that high.

He never has had so many lashes in a single whipping session but then for everything there is a first time.

The whipping is going to last about four hours, as I use the single tail and he will be given approximately one minute after every lash to recover from the previous and prepare for the next lash. Maybe there will be breaks in between when he stays chained but the chains are loosened so he may sit or lie on the floor. But he must stay in the room, on the whipping platform, until the 228 have been delivered. Poor fickstück.

He tries to be brave, but his resolve barely lasts beyond the first stroke. The lash cuts him like a burning brand, inflicting an agony unlike anything he has ever experienced.

Again and again, I lay the whip across his belly and chest and thighs and back. I hear him crying out, pleading with me to stop. He - no: it - because a slave does not deserve a human pronoun - It succumbs to horribly shaming writhing in hopes of dissipating the pain and trying in futile desperation to twist away from the cruel whip.

Then comes the terrible wait for the next lash.

When the tip of the hissing leather curls into its armpit, it cries out piteously into its gag for me to stop, sensing that the tip has cut its skin and knowing that it cannot possibly stand it anymore.

But there is no respite, only new torment — each lash horrifying, shocking, and impossible to bear — a pain and violation too awful to absorb. It thinks it cannot not possibly endure it, but fastened securely as it is, it has no choice.

I pause for a moment or two and caress his face, gently wiping away the saliva and the tears. You poor thing. You don‘t sense my irony but feel save for a moment.

“Its time for the next one,” I say. „Then it will be all over. For a while. Just five minutes more. You can bear it for five minutes surely? Then I will give you a break.”

“No, no. For Godess’ sake, no!” it screams into its gag. „I truly cannot bear this any longer. No I cannot stand it for another second let alone five minutes!“

„Who cares“ I reply softly. “No one care what you think you can bear. It is my decision what you have to endure.”

When it had caught its breath and stifled its sobs I deliver the next one. The pain brings it into a state it had never experienced before – a state where nothing exists except for the pain of the whip. It looks like it is slipping into some sort of drug-state as its body goes limp and it ceases struggling or fighting against the inevitable. Its body stops tensing up and it gives itself over completely to the pain.

I have broken its will now.

I see water flow down its thighs as its bladder releases itself.

Embarrassed, it helplessly tries to tightly squeeze its restrained legs together. But each time it pulls up to breathe, I can see the urine dribbling down its legs.

Again and again, it can feel the dribbling. It is nearly impossible for him to hold it anymore. Finally, it spreads his legs as much as it can and, realizing it can not hold it anymore, releases the trapped fluids. I can hear the splatter the jet of urine makes as it strucks the bare floor below it. I literally feel its shame as it spreadeagled hangs in its restrains in front of me - unable to clean itself according to the dictates of civilization.

Then, when it can no longer distinguish each stroke, and it has surrendered itself to the inevitability of this going on for ever, or at least for the next hours, I find it collapsing in a near faint. It realizes then that it is temporarily over and I have put aside the cruel whip.

I look at him and in his face. „Look at me!“ I command. And when his broken eyes meet mine „Thank me,” I say. And he thanks me.

“And now say ‘Thank You Lady Eve.’”

By hearing her name his shaft starts growing hard, erecting, then pointing at me like accusing me.

What an impertinent arrogance! What a disrespect towards my dear friend, the one who had the idea of making him pay for every vote he got.

But no worries. This is barely the first step within the procedure and when we are finished I am sure he will not be able and even less want to present such an impertinent attitude anymore. …

Kristin von Stahlschmerz

#fs14 #submission

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fickstueck-fs14 · 18 days ago

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Unfortunately i was renamed to fickstueck

your name: LadysToy

Kristin von Stahlschmerz

Look at you! This is how you’ve been waiting for me. This is how you present yourself to me.

You have undressed yourself, gagged yourself, locked yourself with a leather chastity belt, you are naked and kneeling, chained, on all fours. Like an animal. This is how you show me that you know your place. This is how you have taken away your own dignity to sacrifice it to me. This is how you ask me to make you what you really are, to show you your purpose.

Your place is under me, under my feet.

Do you feel comfortable in your place?

You are craving for the chair. You prepared it, you made it all up yourself, this chair, this gynecological chair, where only women should be seated in your opinion, where you hope to be milked, deseeded - by me - today.

Do you really think you deserve to be milked today?

I have a look at your chastity belt. In an ironic way, it makes you look strong, fierce and powerful. The thick leather strap around your thighs, the leather cage in front of your genitals. It is reminiscent of the loincloth of a Roman gladiator. But you’re not a gladiator. You are only a toy.

Then I release you of your belt. You are embarrassed by this visible sign of your chasteness; you even cursed it while you were waiting for me. You wanted to touch yourself so badly. And you felt humiliated because you couldn’t. But why do you want to touch yourself? The ring prevents you from masturbating and any possibility of orgasm. You are no longer able to ejaculate. Your cock is of no use to you. Now that I’m taking it away from you, this visible sign, your loincloth, you don’t want to give it up. It is the last illusion you have of protection and self-determination.

You find it humiliating to wear such a sign of your chastity, to be prevented from touching yourself, and when I take it away from you, you find this act of taking it away equally humiliating: if you could make a choice between keeping the belt or having it taken away, you would not be able then to decide.

You know what it is like when you are unlocked. The stripping, the exposure of your naked body, is not a random or incidental element. It is a deliberate act designed to humiliate and degrade you. There is a strong sexual element to this act that reminds you of forms of sexual abuse, sexual humiliation and sexual assault.

Are you conscious of the significance of this act?

That’s why it’s important to ritualize this act. You have to stand on the block. Your pedestal. Like a slave at the slave market, presented and offered. Arms behind your head, legs spread. You know the position. Then I unlock you, take away the last of your protection and examine you, inspect and assess you.

You are naked as a slave should be, wearing only my collar and my ring.

A permanent steel cockring, enclosing the root of your shaft and your testicles and very tight so that it cannot be removed without being cut open by using special tools The glans is constantly locked. This way you are permanently prevented from masturbating or having orgasms by stroking or fucking but you still can be used as a human dildo without achieving any pleasure.

Your cock may appear strong, a veined, throbbing symbol of masculinity, pulsing with rigid power; but it is a helpless prey held in check by a strict tight ring that makes it impossible to achieve sexual satisfaction.

That is why I have enclosed, sealed you with my ring: so that your foreskin holds your glans captive and you are always horny and eager for me and can give me pleasure at any time.

There is no release for you anymore.

The ring looks beautiful around your nice cock. I am excited by the control that I have taken of your cock with the ring. With the ring I have turned the instrument of male power that you used to dominate as an alpha, into a tool for my feminine pleasure, a human dildo, as I say. I have emasculated you and taken away your ability to orgasm and shoot your semen out into the world.

The ring prevents you from having release. Since your ringing, you have become more enslaved to your sexual desires, like a beast.

When the cock is erect the ring works as support and the cock is full, big, pulsing and hard for a very long time. But also the ring makes an erection painful for you. That’s why you take such great effort to keep it limp.

What was the value of your orgasms? No, seriously. How did your orgasms provide any sort of value to anyone around you?

They didn’t. Your orgasms were purely selfish. I mean, I now spend so much effort edging you, denying you, making sure that your brain focuses on me and only me. An orgasm ruins that hard work in a matter of minutes.

I don’t care how many reminders you need that you’re not a normal person anymore. You don’t get to masturbate for fun, or have sex for pleasure. You’re meant to serve, please, and entertain. Your orgasms are an affront to that, they actively work against you fulfilling your only purpose.

You’re still standing in front of me on your pedestal, like on an auction block.

Are you now imagining that you are actually at a slave market? Being offered in front of an audience, presented by me? Are you horny or does shame prevail? Your cock will tell me. That’s why you were freed of the belt. So that you can no longer hide anything. If you are not hard, I will order you to present an erection so that I can test whether the tip is wet. If you refuse to present an erection you will get the riding crop and then I will play with your anus with a dildo or vibrator and force you to have an erection. How does it feel when I spread your buttocks to find the hole? Now you realize that your chastity belt was in fact protecting you. Are you thinking about the slave market again? Thinking that I could show you off to others like this? Is that what you really want? Does that thought make you excited? Surely, they wouldn’t admire or adore you. They would admire me. Your Owner. Your Mastress.

They would look down on you, even if, ironically, they had to look up to you. They would make you feel what you are. Could you stand that?

A slave is like an animal. He is being trained and exhibited. Now look at yourself. You are an animal. Lest we forget, you wear a collar, your tail is forced into a ring, you are naked and move on all fours. That’s why you’re naked and I’m clothed. And perhaps a leash suits you just as well as me the whip in my hand.

Would you admire me even more if I let you feel it too?

Why, no, here you are standing in front of me on your pedestal and you don’t think anything anymore. You don’t have to. Leave the thinking to your Owner, your Mastress. Your thoughts are just a tangled mess of contradictory feelings and emotions, confusion, uncertainty and fear of what is still planned for you today. Or what is not planned for you.

Would you want me to decide… about you… decide for you?

Naked, clothed only with my collar, the only garment a slave should wear before his master. That is all you shall wear, for your nakedness is your confession to me. This is how you shall reveal yourself to me. And you reveal yourself only too willingly. Look at yourself. Your body betrays you. How you long for sexual humiliation and control.

Is your shame merely an act of hypocrisy?

I leash you and then lead you on all fours, like a dog. You are crawling unsteadily in front of me. Then, without being asked, you are presenting your ass. Offering yourself. Asking to receive the riding crop, to be whipped. Showing me your ass, asking me to start breaking your resistance now.

You want to head for the chair, but I lead you away from it. I want to see you earn your treatment on the chair. You keep asking for the crop. What a good toy … good fickstueck.

I’ll lead you to the chair. On the chair I will make you confess, on the chair I will prove, on the chair you will confess … and realize … what you are.

I will force you to expose yourself to me. And when the time has come, you will do so only too willingly.

I place you on the chair. On it you may fight, resist, defy and refuse and deny until I break your will and prove my superiority to you. Here you will receive my decision. And accept it. Be grateful for what you receive:

Denial or milking

Maybe I’m just playing with you. Or you might actually be milked? The certain knowledge that there is no more release for you, never again, that there is only hunger for you, or the hope that you would be released this time, even if this hope is almost always disappointed.

What would be harder for you to bear?

I bind your arms, your legs are spread widely.

No more resistance from you.

Strapped to the chair, you are forced to offer this humiliating position as a sign of your submission. “You know that you must live in chastity as my slave. And that your only purpose will be to offer your ass and spread your legs for others.” You told me that once. A long time ago. You demanded that from me. Now the tide has turned.

That’s how you show yourself to me now. So helpless and at my mercy. Naked and horny and eager.

The desire for an orgasm inside you is indomitable and so very unbearably strong. It has been burning inside you for months now. Nevertheless, you offer resistance and decide to refuse, deny. You are afraid of losing your semen uncontrollably. You feel insecure and ashamed. Loss of control.

Unconditionally at my mercy.

Your naked body, open and helpless, now lying before me, at the mercy of my gaze.

Unable to hide anything, your most secret desires, your longings lie open before me. Your revelation begins. Your body betrays you. The slave cock that no longer belongs to you, but … mine … my cock, your Mastress’s cock, which stretches out towards me, longing and begging, it reveals to me what you are.

Your body writhes with shame.

Do you want to reveal yourself to me?

Your exposed body, displayed so openly and helplessly in front of me, at the mercy of my hands

it invites me, it begs me, so provocative

You are made to please me. And you know that soon you will be desperately begging and pleading. You will beg me to give you what you still refuse. But you know I won’t feel sorry for you then. You are not entitled to pity, because pity means you would be stronger than me. Milking you out of pity would make me your vicarious agent, your whore. I am your Mastress. I will challenge you. Your spirit and attitude must be broken. You are afraid of it, but you need it. Deserve it.

You beg me

“What are you?” I ask you.

Your shame takes your breath away, you turn your head to the side and show me your throat. Like an animal that has been defeated. But you’re not fooling me.

Your naked body, lying so open and helpless before me, at the mercy of my breeding, my play, my measures and my whim

awaits the pain, punishment for your betrayal.

Do you think you should be punished?

Your naked body, widely open, receives my humiliations, the cruel torments I have planned for you, you expect pain and humiliation. Because I feel like it. I want to play now. The milking can wait. Your pleas again and again. You’re moaning. Even sobbing sometimes. But you no longer decide. I decide what happens to you. It’s no longer up to you to decide what to do with you. I’m not finished with you yet.

I’m playing with you, watching you. How your body reacts to clamps, your cock to stimulation. How you react to the nerve wheel, to the crop and to the dildos and vibs I play with you. At some point, your slave cock overcomes its fear, ignores its shame, forgets the pain, forces itself on me and stretches itself towards me. Yes, that’s how I want to see it. Show me MY cock!

You will learn how I will reduce you to a pathetic heap of flesh and nerves, to an object that I can use and enjoy. I will arouse you and let you fall so often until you are nothing more than a writhing, helpless, will-less, desperate, whimpering something that wants nothing more than to cum. But it won’t get that far, because when you’re about to, I’ll bring you back to reality through pain and humiliation and then the cycle will start all over again. And again. And again. And…. at some point I’ll just leave you here on the chair.

Do you approve of what I’m going to do to you?

“LadysToy”. You suggested this name yourself. You knew what it would mean to be turned into a toy. What toys are there for. How you play with them, enjoy them, pass the time with them and that you put them away when you get bored of them.

What did you intend to express with your name?

I know that you intended to make sure that only ladies played with you. I know how much you fear being played with by a man, even being inspected, watched by a man. You wanted to rule out being used by men. But you didn’t succeed. I do not accept such a restrictive interpretation of your name. I therefore interpret the addition “ladys” as a kind of possessive pronoun, which indicates possession, ownership, which states that you are owned by a Lady but does not mean that only ladies could play with you. You are at the disposal of everyone to whom I assign you. You are my toy and I can give you to whoever I see appropriate.

The following definition can be found in the encyclopedia:

A toy is an object used for play.

A toy is valued for its own sake and for the joy of play. In principle, any object can become a toy for the time it is used by humans or animals. The design of toys reflects the different natural and cultural contexts in which people live.

In contrast to a tool, which is primarily used for manufacturing or processing, the purpose of a toy lies in itself. A toy serves the joy of playing with its material, its functions and its possibilities. Toys serve to live out the urge to play. They can fuel the desire to move or the need to communicate and, in the best case, also release creative forces.

Play is an activity that is practiced for pleasure, for relaxation, simply for the joy of doing it.

What does this definition mean to you now?

You are there for my relaxation, my pleasure and my joy. I play with you whenever I feel like it, as often as I feel like it, for as long as I feel like it and I play with you however I feel like it. It doesn’t have to please you; it has to please me. As long as I enjoy playing with you. If I get bored of playing with you, you will be left until I feel the need to continue playing or you will be put away.

You may have wanted to express with this name that you wish to be completely at the disposal of a lady. But as you know: Nobody cares wat you want.

Are you being grateful to me?

Your naked body, so open and helpless in front of me, still forced to submit, naked and eager. So eager. Submissive and willing. But somehow also demanding.

Do you think you are entitled to that?

Definitely not.

Now I’m going to start milking you.

Your milk should already be in your urethra. Slowly rise higher. I can feel you becoming aware that you are being milked. You feel like an animal now. You’re embarrassed. I can see it. Your shame. In front of me and in front of yourself. I watch you, recognize how you begin to surrender, to give up and how your refusal turns into desire. You would be begging me now if you weren’t gagged. But you are too greedy. Too demanding. You need to learn your place. Besides, I want to continue playing with you later. I’m not bored of you yet.

Would you like to disagree?

Your mind is not yet broken.

You struggle as I pull my finger out of you, the gag almost swallowing your moans. You behave as if you had a right to be milked by me. How impertinent. In return you get clamps and the plug with the little bells. Then I leave you. You still lying on the chair.

When I hear the bells ring, I come to you and whip you with the crop. Hard. Strict. With the intention to cause pain. You moan and the bells ring even louder and then I leave you lying there again. I could almost feel sorry for you. But only almost. I like this game. Do you like it too?

Do you think I should feel sorry for you?

How many times would you play this game if you were the player playing with you? How many times would you deny the victim (you) an orgasm, stop the milking? Give the victim the hope of release only to take it away again? How many times would I have to arouse you until you are just a writhing, helpless, will-less, desperate, whimpering something that wanted nothing more than to cum and could no longer think clearly? Ten times? Twenty times? How long would it take? Hours? A day? Day and night? Several days? Then I’d have to take you off the table every few hours and let you run a few laps. You’d almost be like an animal.

I don’t yet know how many times I will bring you to this point today and I don’t yet know whether I will end up milking you or leaving you desperate.

I’m asking you: Do you think you’ve already earned it that I’m milking you today? You shake your head. Good slave. You know you can’t earn it. You won’t be rewarded for what you do or don’t do. You are punished for what you do or don’t do, but a reward? Why? For what? Because you are doing what you are there for?

Your naked body, so open and helpless in front of me, still forced to submit, naked and eager. Submissive and willing. I look down at you. See MY cock getting hard, straightening up. Stretching out towards me as if demanding a right.

I touch you, MY cock and testicles, hands between your legs, on your hips. You are ashamed. You’re scared. But that doesn’t matter. Because there is also anticipation. I enjoy your fear, your shame and yes, your anticipation too. Because it’s pointless, but you don’t know that yet. Or don’t want to know.

You moan out loud into the gag as something invades deep inside you. Your cock is rearing erect.

You want to relax, you think it’s almost over. You feel your milk rise again. But again I do not let it happen. There’s no escape on the chair. You wanted to be on this chair, do not forget that.

I will not release you, I’ll leave you on the chair.

You can stay here and wait. Waiting for the next time. Waiting for me to want to do something with you again.

You can’t deny it. I look at you as you lie there. It’s embarrassing for you to lie in front of me like this … bound, naked, helpless. You ARE my willing, naked and horny slave. And you can hardly wait. You long for the moment when I feel like playing with you again.

Look at you and tell me, would a strong independent man let this happen? If you were really strong, you’d be able to stop this. If you really thought you were equal, you should be able to take your equality, but you can’t, can you?

I’m going to break you. Break you like you deserve it. Really try to fight me. If you really are equal you’ll be able to stop me.

But you are not.

The collar to tame your mind, the ring to emasculate and to tame your sexual aggressiveness, the brand/tattoo to mark you as owned property, nakedness to remember you of your rank and to prevent you from hiding even the most private and intimate feelings.

You are a Toy. My Toy. LadysToy

Kristin von Stahlschmerz

#fs14

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fickstueck-fs14 · 18 days ago

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Thank You Lady Eve. i am honored to please You, Lady Eve.

@wonderevel @kristin-von-stahlschmerz

Source / submitted pic of @kristin-von-stahlschmerz and @ladystoy-fs14 ..

thank you for this pic gift!!!

of course I will reblog it !!!

you are such a incredible couple and I am thankful to have you here again after a longer break !!!

You live the lifestyle many users dream about and give tumblers georgeous glimpsies of a 24/12 dom sub relationship …

the words you find to describe the things you live for need to be published ..

I am a fan ! Keep on going … and thank you for your friendship!!!

hugs go out to both of you… and a little whipping on his proud ass!

Eve

#fs14 #submission

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fickstueck-fs14 · 19 days ago

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Revelation of a former Alpha (@fickstueck-fs14)

And realizing this pushed me, while I was watching and observing him, just over the edge, but just barely. Its cock twitched, and its semen began dribbling out of its shaft, frustratingly slowly. It took almost two minutes for the ejaculate to finish dripping out, leaving it just as horny as i was before. That was when I first thought in the term of fickstück of it. And when I decided that it needs to be ringed to be controlled and preventing from masturbating or milking itself. But ... lets start from the beginning ...

I absolutely enjoy the relaxing and interesting pleasure of displaying my slave on the cross and then, while I chill out with a glass of wine, simply watch and observe and, after a while, listen to him, the sweet and gorgeous sounds he makes. The movements of his body, flexing muscles, his whimpers and moans, writhing and squirming gradually increase and become more and more intense over time. Watching him spend and endure his time on the cross reminds me of the Bolero.

He always looks great on the cross. It is always a great opportunity to test his endurance. His resistance to controlling his erections and milking.

Having him being impaled on the cross was something new that came to my mind that day.

It occurred to me that day it might be interesting to see him also being impaled while he was on the cross. It would be a shame to have the pole for the dildo standing uselessly like that in the far corner of the room.

So, when the dildo is well placed, after some time the slave simply has to succumb and lower his body on the dildo and become impaled.

It is placed under his private entrance making him look double phallused.

When he is exhausted by his writhings, caused by pushing himslf up at the cross in the hopeless attempt to escape the impalement, he is forced to settle down and impale himself anally. He tries to stay up as long as he can but it is only a matter of time before he has to lower himself onto the phallus. My poor nude slave, I know it hurts you. It is much bigger than any cock that will ever have you on the rack. When he sinks down on the Cornu and it penetrates his anus his shaft bulged and spat out an ingenue jet of precum and sperm.

But he was not completely emptied then...

He squats over the pole like some jockey riding the peg in a spectacle of obscenity.

Impaled like this, he cannot reverse the penetration once it has occurred. Since the dildo is placed directly under his anal entrance it will always find its way inside… But even for a strictly heterosexual Alpha (as he asserts he is, or WAS at least, haha), it is a betraying sensation. He has proved it with his first spitting. That is for two reasons: the dildo provides some welcome support in his struggle hanging at the cross and… it is indeed highly stimulating sexually!

So, after a while he started grinding up and down on the dildo. He tried to control himself; to stay calm and not to move but he could not help it, he was grinding up and down again and again. Many times he tried to will himself not to do the “ride” and to succumb to silence, but his body would not obey. He was being fucked by the cross.

Then he started effectively fucking and milking himself. Fully open, hanging for me to see, with a semi erect penis in front of me, he’d have to ejaculate, hanging naked at the cross.

He fucked himself for about 45 minutes (or two glasses of wine) and then, without having reached an orgasm he calmed down, hanging on the cross while trying to control his breath.

Then, after about 15 minutes of regeneration, without him doing anything, his cock started twitching, and his semen began dribbling out of his semi erect penis, frustratingly slowly. It took almost five minutes for him to finish the load dripping out, leaving him then just as horny as he was before. But then his cock erected and he presented his rock hard penis to me again.

Witnessing this pushed me just over the edge, but just barely. The event was planned just as a presentation, an observation of his body, not as a allowed milking or a chance for him to achieve any relieve. I was angry as well as proud. I was proud to have him to perform such an alluring show for me without him actually wanting to do so but at the same time I was angry because he had not the permission to present an erection and at all not the permission to ejaculate.

So after all it might still be necessary to punish him for disobedience and to subject him to an even stricter education? I realized the need to have him subject to the ringing so it is made sure he is not able to ejaculate or orgasm without explicit permission anymore. I think this experience initiated the idea of having him ringed.

But his ringing ... well ... this is another story.

#fs14

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fickstueck-fs14 · 19 days ago

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Its name: fickstueck or LadysToy?

Most people here will probably agree with me that a slave doesn't necessarily need a name. Nevertheless, a name is useful to characterize it and it is also a kind of “first impression” and identity in social interaction with others.

My slave currently has two names under which it appears here: LadysToy and fickstück.

Since I can't decide which name fits better, is more appropriate, expresses better what its identity is, I would like your opinion as to which of the two names suits it better.

Which name should it finally get and interact with? LadysToy (more restrictive and playful) or fickstück (vulgar and demeaning, to be translated as like fuckmeat, fuckpiece, fuckhole)?

Explanations of the names can be found under the following links (the explanation of fickstueck is unfortunately in German, so please use translate if necessary):

fickstueck: https://www.tumblr.com/fickstueck-fs14/770126461949657088/dein-name-fickst%C3%BCck-das-bedeutung?source=share

LadysToy: https://www.tumblr.com/ladystoy-fs14/771587534917664768/your-name-ladystoy-by-kristin-von-stahlschmerz?source=share

Please reblog and spread this survey so that as many people as possible may vote. Thank you.

#fs14

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fickstueck-fs14 · 20 days ago

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(Bild © Kristin von Stahlschmerz)

Male Slave ( @ladystoy-fs14 aka @fickstueck-fs14 ): stripped, blindfolded, gagged, hooded & collared.

Owned by @kristin-von-stahlschmerz.

Photographed and exposed for Your pleasure and entertainment.

My compliments to @ladystoy-fs14 & @kristin-von-stahlschmerz - many thanks for the inspiration!

Breaking in the LadysToy

How often in life are you invited to a virtual - a bloodless - castration? On reflection you will agree it’s a rare occurrence. What to wear for it? Must be something decent and respectable to meet the seriousness of the occasion, declares my wife and points to my suits. Yet anything too formal might impair our enjoyment of the event, I point out, so a compromise is found and we don houndstooth sports coats and polo neck with comfortable corduroy pants for me while my wife opts for her riding pants and boots. Clothing that mirrors the celebratory nature of the event - yet is soft and comfy enough for a laid-back atmosphere. This is no funeral after all.

Or maybe it is. An ALPHA gets buried today. Or at any rate: his orgasms.

‘So how did this invitation come about, dear? Something I should know?’ my wifey asks, thankfully not chiding me on the lack of briefing beforehand.

‘Ach you know how it is at those Tumblr parties. You meet interesting people from all walks of life, chat a bit about all sorts of things - and next you’re invited to an official emasculation and deseeding at a doctor’s surgery.’

‘Sounds quite a tall order. Are we sure that poor gentleman knows what he’s about to endure, luv?’

‘I really cannot say. All I know is, he’s not going to have much choice about it. Rumour has it there’s a video tape involved that might cause a veritable scandal. And nobody wants that to happen, least of all the fickstück.’

‘Oh, fickstück - now that’s a name I’m going to remember.’

‘And he’s going to earn it, rest assured. I hear he used to have a somewhat cocky attitude; you know, one of those ALPHA guys. Lady von Stahlschmerz is going to change that nature drastically. In fact, she seems to have made promising progress already. When I met the fickstück he seemed soft-spoken and charming. And he’s yet to get his cock and balls attuned to their future role as property of Lady von Stahlschmerz. I imagine that will have a life-altering effect on his behaviour and outlook on the world.’

‘Ohhh, this gets ever more interesting. Let’s hurry there…’ my wifey utters under her breath with just the faintest touch of glee…

At the private surgery, a plush place off the high street, the last regular patients had already been treated when we arrive. The nurses at reception are in visibly high spirits and we are shown to the consulting room where I introduce my wife to the charming Lady Kristi von Stahlschmerz and her lover - and co-owner of fickstück - Baroness Ashley.

There’s a distinct excitement in the air; we all seem to share a sense of suspense, great things to happen. Like kids on Christmas morning are magnetically attracted to the tree, we turn towards the gyno chair at the centre of the room that’s otherwise closer to a high-end office. It will all happen in this chair of leather and stainless steel.

And if the four chairs in front of this contraption are not already proof this isn’t going to be an ‘ordinary’ treatment, then the leather fixations for the ‘patient’ at the head should leave no doubts about it. No good news are received in this particular chair.

We take our seats, slightly to the side to give Lady von Stahlschmerz and Baroness Ashley pride of place as owners. I notice how my wife rubs her legs together. Her lips are slightly opened and there’s a shine in her gaze. All smiles and excitement she is. So am I.

Before I can search the eager owners of fickstück for similar signs, the door opens and the protagonist himself is lead in by a leash around his collar. Muscular, more beefy than ribbed, but in a fit way. From the triceps he looks like a 200 push-up guy. The flat stomach betraying stamina like the flanks of a prized stallion. And the muscular glutes speak of many hours spent in that universal rhythm of relentless rutting and plowing.

No doubt, fickstück is very much built like that pic you find beside ALPHA in the lexicon - apart from his genitalia, which are currently not just smoothly shaved and hairless like a boy’s but seem to actively try to creep up inside the abdomen to flee from our amused eyes. Fickstück is wearing a mask, but what we can see of his neck and throat is brightest red, glowing with shame. Well, given the circumstances…

The nurses put him into the gyno chair, feet secured in the stirrups and spread apart, arms akimbo above his head and secured with leather straps, his cock, balls and anus totally exposed to us. Every tiny detail is laid open, a mere two metres away, so close you can almost touch fickstück.

‘Hmmm…’ I hear wifey softly growl beside me, biting her lower lip. ‘Do you think fickstück has just been caught playing with himself? Looks awfully ashamed, as if his mom had just pulled away his coverlet, no?

And that winking anus, like a shy deer from a Disney film, how cute,’ she whispers as she uncrosses and recrosses her legs.

I too begin to squirm in my chair - which my wife notes with a faint smile and a sideways glance at our hosts. She leans over a little closer to me and her hand rests on my arm as we witness the treatment before us.

For fickstück time must now be stretching unbearably, his most private, his ‘forbidden’ parts on display to three women and a guy, two of them strangers, one a mature lady whose first impression of him will now forever be his vulnerable winking anus.

To tell the truth, were I in his place I would likely fare no better with my intimate parts exposed to strangers. But my cock is decently covered and only my wife can guess from the drape of my trousers that my pulse is picking up pace. Just as only I can see the tell-tale imprint at the tips of her bosom on her soft sweater.

The doctor arrives and for a moment it’s like the intermission at the theatre. Medical explanations are given, measurements taken, all very clinical. Reassuring. Lulling.

But sneakily, almost unnoticeably, the hands of the doctor and his nurse begin to move across the naked skin with a much more wanton agenda. To ‘note reaction to stimuli’. Well, fickstück’s private parts welcome this unforeseen turn of events with visible growth, turning into throbbing flesh and glistening orbs inside their tender pouch. Within moments the shaft is proudly erect and glistening with fluids.

fickstück certainly appreciates stimuli, that much is clear. And in spite of the deep shame of being handled like a piece of lewd meat - his shaft doesn’t mind it’s a middle aged male doctor who’s doing it to him. He may try to resist being felt up and manipulated by these knowing hands - but his flesh is giving away his greedy shame.

The doctor wraps his gloved hand around the shaft with just the right amount of lewd force that betrays the seasoned masturbator. You can trust me on this, I have a rich experience in the field and know an expert touch when I see it. So does my wife and the stimuli aren’t lost on her either. Her nostrils flare and her hand wanders from my arm into my jacket, just smiling knowingly.

Fickstück meanwhile is treated to the royally edging experience. Meaning the doctor spreads his fluids and lots of medical lubricant across fickstück’s genitalia while the nurse goes on taking measurements. Those two professionals are a seasoned tag team and visibly enjoy turning their patient into a quivering, moaning mess of sweat and precum, their ministrations never once giving in to his needy pleadings.

I would be sorry for him, only I’m enjoying too much my wife’s hand on my crotch. When the doctor places a well-lubed finger between fickstück’s muscular buttocks, wifey softly squeezes my balls.

‘I was just thinking how tight that bunghole looks, big house, small door,’ she whispers in my ear, then faking surprise at the tent in my crotch. ‘Oh, I see you’re enjoying the view. Always up for a good buggery is my hubby - think we’ll have to do something about that soon, no…?’

I shiver at the prospect. My state of excitement must now be visible to everybody in the room. But fickstück’s audience is entirely captured with his helpless, hapless writhing as his unsuspecting anus receives first one then two of the doctor’s fingers while fickstück’s shaft is cruelly manipulated to climax - without ever reaching it. It’s plain old lustful torture.

And it definitely has its effect on us, too. While fickstück babbles and moans, jerks and shivers as the doctor now resolutely does him front and back and the nurse goes to town on his ears and upper torso, we sit like teenagers in a love seat cinema.

Only that fickstück can clearly see us and our making out adds to his discomfort.

I’m raging hard now and my wife’s fingers trace the contour of my flesh through the fabric of my trousers. My hand is trapped between her thighs where I feel an open furnace, pulsing. I know that I will burn my tongue there soon.

But this is all only prelude to the main event: the ringing of fickstück’s manly pride that will effectively take away both pride and manliness while keeping him anatomically functional to serve his owners without getting satisfaction of his own.

We’ve heard of a ring that will turn its wearer into an eager sex toy, constantly willing to please and satisfy, even and especially with his shaft - that will no longer give him pleasure. From that moment the wearer might as well carry an artificial dildo instead. This is our first chance to witness the procedure, an extraordinary spectacle.

What a strange thought, fickstück is going to have a colourful and exciting sexlife after tonight - he just will not enjoy it himself. Or only once he’s willing to subordinate his every effort towards satisfying his owners and their whims. Totally and without hesitation.

As if on cue doctor and nurse stop touching fickstück, just as his torture comes to a head. He’s entirely flustered, shocked even about the sudden change of tack. Here this needy, horny, squeaky ALPHA male is fully exposed, sacrificing even the last shred of dignity to reach a climax, to shoot his load from his bloated balls. He’d do anything and anybody for a cum, pleading even with the doctor - who clearly has no intention to relieve his patient - to finish him.

Or does the doctor take pity on fickstück? He moves between the lewdly spread legs in the stirrups, softly, tenderly lifting fickstück’s balls up along the pulsing shaft, the doctor’s face coming down to that shiny glans that must be almost bursting with blood and pent up semen. I half expect the doctor to open his lips and receive the ravished organ for one last cathartic orgasm. It would probably not even take a stroke of tongue to reap fickstück’s milk from its tip.

Nothing could be further from the good doctor though. With practised ease he puts a metallic contraption around shaft and balls and we only get to see it clearly now as a stainless ring that encircles cock and balls like a tubing clamp. It looks obscene and painfully wanton. Already that shaft and balls are one step removed from their former body, look like a bloated caricature added as an afterthought.

My wife and I are both hot, breathing heavily. My pulse throbs in my temples - but we’re also completely mesmerised by this spectacle and hardly dare moving. We could be rutting like animals right at the spot and for all to see - but not before we learn how fickstück’s drama on this fateful evening will end.

‘How do you like our display so far?’ Lady Kristin inquires with a knowing smile, leaning over towards us.

‘Oh dear, this is quite marvellous! We enjoy it enormously, don’t we, darling?’ my wife answers, squeezing me again through my trousers.

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the life of me, luv. An amazing presentation, most entertaining.’

‘And so inspiring, really. What exactly is it that ring does, Lady Kristi? It’s looking awfully tight, no?’

‘As it should be. You see, that ring prevents the blood from leaving fickstück’s shaft and balls. So he swells up - but all feeling is numbed down. The more he swells the less he actually feels.’

‘I’ve heard about that. I imagine it must be rather uncomfortable for a man wearing such a device, no?’

This was answered by the doctor with a self congratulatory smile. ‘Absolutely. Every erection now becomes unpleasant, with time even painful for the patient. Let me show you.’

He takes fickstück’s shaft in his hand with obvious relish, squeezing him, adding to its girth and plumpness - and to fickstück’s obvious discomfort.

‘You see this? You can still arouse him, but it also hurts him. At the same time, the pain reminds him of the lustful sensation he misses and can no longer get.’

The doctor now sensuously massages the shaft, balls and glans, chuckling as fickstück responds with helpless bucking.

‘This is why we call the ring ‘Torture the Sinner’. Even at its loosest setting no bodily fluids can escape the glans when the cock is erect. Not even the foreskin can be pulled back - he’s permanently numbed and prevented from orgasming by masturbation or fucking.’

The doctor’s manipulation of fickstück’s genitals is now cruelly joyful as fickstück desperately fucks his fist - achieving nothing but horrible frustration.

‘No more quality time with a little tender handjob under the shower or while lounging on the sofa? Oh dear, that must be a dreadful loss! Can you imagine how horrible that would be, darling?’ my wife asks me.

‘Utterly dreadful!’

‘You have to know, my Harry wanks himself four or five times a day. And I quite enjoy watching him - or letting him watch. It’s a huge part of our sex life; we both enjoy self-pleasure immensely,’ she sniggers. ‘We often ‘sin’ together when our chores don’t allow for more - what a lovely turn of phrase for wanking, Harry, “to sin”. I think we shall adopt that label into our vocabulary.

This to our hosts, who probably already had a hunch were great supporters of the art of wanking as they can clearly see my wife’s hands being busy. All above the clothes still - but suggestive enough.

‘But that’s by far not all of it.’ the doctor continues.

‘We don’t just take away the sin of masturbation - we deprive the patient of the entire ability to orgasm. His whole sexuality is changed fundamentally.’

The doctor suddenly opens his hand and we see fickstück’s shaft twitching haplessly. A dreadful sight, this im-potent piece of plump but helpless, forlorn fuckmeat. Fickstück’s frantic moaning makes us shiver.

‘You are so greedy, fickstück,’ Lady Kristin says to fickstück. ‘Like a bitch in heat.’

‘He is not able to shoot his load, sorry, ejaculate, anymore and to orgasm - but he still can be used as a human dildo without achieving any pleasure as the ring keeps up his erection very long,’ the doctor further explains.

‘As you see, his hard shaft shows he still has selfish desires. This one needs continued and consistent education and humiliation. When a patient wearing the ring reaches the point that would ordinarily trigger a climax he’s enduring a No-gasm: dry convulsions of the prostate that are entirely without the associated feelings of lust-fulfilment. The excitation curve turns into a plateau and the patient can serve as human dildo for as long as the owner desires. My assistant will demonstrate it for you.’

The nurse now takes over the doctor’s place - who seems reluctant to cede it to her - and begins similar ministrations with considerable amounts of lube. Minutes of concentrated masturbation pass until the nurse announces ‘Doktor, the patient’s anus contracts; he’s having his no-gasm.’

Fickstück’s shaft is now heaving like a drunken sailor, only it’s dry-heaving: the glans doesn’t show the slightest sign of semen. The little hole is twitching in time with the anus - but nothing else happens. That fountain is now pent up.

‘As you can see, the patient remains in a state of arousal,’ the doctor lectures, gripping fickstück by the shaft again and feeling him up with gusto. My impression is that left alone with fickstück he would barbarously rape the poor sod and leave him covered in cum.

‘I suggest that we now have refreshments during a little pause - before our main event!’ Lady Kristin announces and we withdraw to the salon next door for drinks. Ominously though, as we sip our wine, we hear fickstück loudly, uncontrollably wail and sob. A man broken by misery and hopeless despair. After a while, the sobbing dies down.

As we return, fickstück is miraculously still in his gyno chair, now gagged with a ring gag and a nurse is preparing the Seed Extractor - a cruel device of stainless steel that drives a sound into the shaft and is supposed to extract ejaculate directly out of the prostate gland by suction.

‘So that rod is going to go into his shaft? Has fickstück had his penis sounded before, Lady Kristin?’ my wife asks.

‘No, that’s a first for fickstück.’

‘A deflowering, how exquisite!’ my wife exclaims. ‘He’s getting his shaft fucked - the very part of him that did the fucking is deflowered before our eyes. Lady Kristin, I can’t thank you enough for this wonderful entertainment. Isn’t it fabulous, Harry?’

My wife bends a bit forward to better witness as the nurse slowly penetrates fickstück’s virgin peehole, an intrusion that elicits a faint weeping from the gagged mouth, but otherwise no resistance. The nurse slowly but resolutely pushes the rod into the shaft.

Fucks the fuckmeat.

My balls are squeezed softly as my wife and I watch, mesmerised by this debasement.

For 23 minutes fickstück wails like an animal as the machine sucks his prostate clean.

It’s sick. Depraved. Lushly, lewdly exciting.

My head is swimming as the nurse finally announces the end of the de-seeding procedure. Twenty three minutes for a meagre 2.5 ml. It’s both horrible and pathetic.

But the fickstück is still needy, errect. Helplessly at the mercy of its owners.

My wife and I are both hot and aroused by the spectacle we just witnessed. I feel my pulse in my cock and my balls where my wife has a firm grip on me, her own chest heaving and her lips shiny. I’m not sure how far we will make it before we give in to our needs - that’s when our host offers us a delicious experience as parting gift.

‘Would you perhaps like to have a little fun with fickstück yourself? Play a little on its buttons, see what sounds you can coax from it? As you can see, the fickstück ist still ready to be used.’

‘Oh dear, we cannot possibly accept this, can we, Harry?’

Clearly not meaning to let this once-in-a-lifetime chance go by, as her hand on my cock points out.

‘Would be a shame to refuse such a generous offer, wouldn’t it, luv?’ I know what’s expected of me and the mischievous smile of the ladies proves me right.

‘So please be my guests,’ Lady Kristin offers us the stage.

‘As this is a night of firsts - first rendezvous with our dear hosts, first ringing for the fickstück, deflowering of fickstück’s shaft - we should perhaps continue to explore new and previously forbidden territory. How about we make it the first time my hubby Harry gets his cock sucked by a man?’

‘That would be a first for fickstück as well. At least, a real cock. He’s used to suck strapons, but there’s nothing like the real thing, is there?’

I already eyed the ring gag that would give me easy access to fickstück’s throat. Sadly, it would also prevent fickstück from using his lips. I decide we’ll just have to make do and follow my wife to fickstück’s head.

The eyes behind the mask are huge with terror - but fickstück looks at his owner and whatever he sees there calms him. A bit. Enough to make him look at my wife. Instinctively fickstück understands who it is he has to please here.

It will be my cock - but it will be my wife’s desires the fickstück must meet.

I’m standing right before fickstück’s face behind the mask, looking him in the eye, my wife beside me.

‘Would you do the honours, darling?’

‘Of course!’ Her voice is now even huskier than usual. She’s going to pull out her husband’s cock from his trousers and feed it to a tied up slave who has only just swallowed his own cum, a drop still clinging to fickstück’s ring gag.

And my wife is going to enjoy every second of it.

She pulls down my zipper and my cock is right behind it, covered only by my briefs and sticky from the constant slow squeezing she has given my crotch. She slowly peels it from its covers and presents it to her victim, giving fickstück time to take in the task, silently nodding as she sees him realise what is to come. Then she pulls out my balls too, squeezing them the way she knows they like it.

My helmet weeps tears of joy. My wife rubs them over my cock, my pouch. Slowly. Then her hand holds my girth and feeds it to fickstück.

His nostrils flare. His mouth is already open. His tongue tries to charm my glans into staying at the entrance - but the throat is deep and soft and hot as my wife pushes me further.

My wife is beside me, holding me, one finger ever so softly playing with my nipple through the sweater as we enjoy the view of fickstück giving me head. Lady Kristin and Baroness Ashley watch with amused interest from their places.

It’s glorious. Fickstück is really eager to please - and his cock stilly proudly erect, not caring that its former owner is now deepthroating a cock himself. Shamefully unashamed.

After a few minutes of oral pleasuring she leans forward to fickstück’s head, quietly telling him ‘I always think it’s quite decadent sucking a cock to full hardness knowing it’s going to fuck you.’

Fickstück’s eyes pop wide open and it moans deep in its throat in outright fear.

As my wife no doubt planned it all along.

The thought to fuck fickstück’s meaty rump - with the three ladies watching us rutting! - has been giving me an extra edge since my wife remarked on fickstück’s shyly winking anus. Having the next step of his downfall declared brings fickstück to the brink of panic, moaning helplessly around my glans which of course only adds to my pleasure.

I feel my wife’s tongue in my ear as she whispers ‘Don’t hold back when I tell you.’

I’m close to the edge anyway, have been for an hour or so. But I know better than to question my wife’s plans. When she pulls me back fickstück must believe his anal virginity is going to be taken too, all on a single day of utterly breaking in this slave.

But my wife has other plans. She knows I’m on the brink of cumming. She’s giving me her knowing fingers - always a double, please - up the arse, buggering me royally but unseen to our hosts and fickstück. When she feels my body reacting she stops tugging me and instead slaps my balls in the tried and tested manner that never fails to give me a delightfully perverse orgasm, laced with just the right amount of pain where it counts.

Large globs of my juice spurt from my angry red glans all across fickstück’s mask.

‘Take a close look, fickstück. You won’t likely see a spurting cock very often in the future, they will all be inside you,’ my wife says as she bends down to aim my last spurts into his gagged mouth.

‘And another first, fickstück’s first cum cocktail from another man’s testicles!’ Lady Kristin declares.

‘I thought it was only proper to give your fickstück a visual memory of the things he has to live without now. Maybe we can deepen the experience another time? And perhaps I bring my riding crop?’

There’s a sobbing sound coming from the gyno chair, but none of us takes notice.

#fs14

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fickstueck-fs14 · 1 month ago

Text

The Emasculation

Ringed / Emasculated / Deseeded

My Owners set me an appointment with a "doctor". they tell me i’m to come shaved, and prepare to be examined naked in a chair. this is to take measurements and note down observations to see how it will affect my body and make sure everything is going well.

NO! i am not going to deliver myself to a so called "doctor" and a treatment i do not know anything about. This goes too far. No. i am not going to submit to this.

They remind me of the video tape they have of the rape play we had few weeks ago in a hotel room. If they would accuse me of rape, would anybody believe me that this was a consensual game we played? They could destroy my life by making this video public or giving it to the authorities. They had me in their hands and i was at their mercy unconditionally and helplessly unless I did not want to be publicly exposed as a rapist.

"You have fallen, ALPHA, and we won’t let you get up again. The sooner you accept what happened to you the easier it will be to bear for you. But it is up to you to end it. We’ve heard the inmates in the prisons like rapists."

So i made my appointment with the so called “doctor” at the prescribed time.

After doing all the paperwork like declaration of consent (haha) etc., and changing into the provided gown, what meant i was stripped naked and collared with the collar my Owners usually mark me with, i am brought to a gyno chair, where i am sat down or more laid down than sat, and the chair reclined. I can see my Owners sit on chairs opposite of me, about two metres apart from me, watching me but not saying a single word to me. My arms are stretched above my head and securely cuffed to remain like this. my legs are tied into the stirrups of the chair, and then my legs are spread wide apart.

I lie there naked in front of my Owners on this chair as we are waiting a long time for the "doctor" to appear. i feel helpless, vulnerable, weak and in a strange way filthy.

the doctor is understanding and patient, assuring me that it is normal to feel vulnerable, but after what i had done, this procedure was necessary to keep me from doing something like this again. (What does he mean? i did not do anything. Have they shown him the tape?) Then explaining each step as his assistants move me into position.

they take a bunch of measurements; my length, my circumference, diameter… a few other more intimate areas. my foreskin is gently moved and brushed as they work. they tell me that they next need to note down how my body responds to certain stimuli, as this should change with the ring. "What ring" I wonder. i am feeling flustered, having never been seen or touched this way before, let alone so intimately. i ask if it will hurt, and the doctor assures me all discomfort will be avoided as far as possible.

the next hour is spent teasing my shaft (as my Owners told me i am not allowed to call it cock anymore. i must refer to it as "shaft") with gloved hands, making me hard and needy, exploring my body. they use at first just their hands to edge me, using my own surprised wetness and medical lube, stroking my shaft, circling it, one and then two fingers in my hole. the doctor stops now and then to take down a note or maybe speaks it out loud to an assistant.

eventually they stop touching me, of course without making me cum. i’m sweaty, shaky, and needy like i’ve never known, and shocked still at the turn of events. i ask the doctor why he didn’t finish me, that i feel crazy. they assure me that’s normal, and this is part of the "therapy".

I feel something cold enclosing the root of my shaft including my testicles. I sense it is a metal ring. Then i hear a click and the ring comes a bit tighter. Again and again i hear the clicks and feel the ring tightening around my shaft and testicles with every click i hear. Now it is uncomfortably tight, and my shaft is extreme hard and pulsing.

"The ring around his shaft is really tight. Does it hurt him when he gets hard?" I heard my Owner ask.

"Yes, an erection becomes painful by the time. Unpleasant but at the same time all the more arousing because that pain reminds him of what he misses and what he can no longer get. That’s why we call the device ’Torture the Sinner’. And look: his hard shaft shows that he still has selfish desires. He needs continued and consistent education and humiliation." said the "doctor". He stepped toward me and took my shaft in his hand, encircling it with his hand. I felt the pulse beating in my shaft, it was getting harder and harder. The ring hurt but that only excited me more. i began to move my hips. It was a desperate attempt to fuck the doctor’s fist. After a few thrusts, he opened his hand. My shaft twitched, but it was impossible for me to come to an orgasm. The result of the ring i was no modified with.

"You are so greedy." said my Owner. "Like a mangy bitch."

"A permanent steel cock ring," the doctor started to explain "enclosing the root of his shaft and his testicles and very tight so that it cannot be removed without being cut open or by using special tools. The tightness can be adjusted with this special screwdriver. The variance of the ring is ten clicks or ten millimeters. Even when it is at the most loosely setting, no body fluid can drool out of the shaft when it is erect. The shaft then is so pumped up that even the foreskin cannot be pulled back. The glans will be constantly locked when he is erect. This way he is permanently prevented from masturbating or having orgasms by stroking or fucking. He is not able to shoot his load, sorry, ejaculate, anymore and to have the feeling of an orgasm but he still can be used as a human dildo without achieving any pleasure as the ring keeps up his erection very long. Let me demonstrate the effects of the ring to you:"

A ”nurse” came to me and started stroking my shaft after she had lubed it with oil. She stroked my shaft but the foreskin did not move, like the doctor had explained before. I realized that because of the ring i cannot really be stroked because it gets so tight. And he was right: the foreskin does not move anymore… also with lube then it is even more impossible to move the foreskin. I felt that my shaft was not as sensitive as it usually was, i think because of the blood pressure caused by the ring’s constriction of blood circulation. Blood went in but not out anymore. It felt a little numb but still also exciting. It took me about seven minutes to have the first NOrgasm. I heard the assistant announce it to the doctor who writes it down on a notepad.

My shaft spasmed like it does with an orgasm but to my disbelief, nothing else that happened. i was not able to ejaculate or have any release because the ring is so tight. The pleasure feeling of an Orgasm was totally missing, instead a feeling that is hard to explain, like phantom pain, like imagining the feeling that should be there.

But the shaft stays hard after the NOrgasm and they say this way i can be perfectly used as a human dildo, being ready to be used for as long as a Lady deserves.

The doctor explains that by touching me, stroking me, even "riding" me nothing really happens then. it only would make me more eager and wanting. It was to keep me hungry … only arousal but no pleasure or release. just desire. Nothing else.

When i am finally released from being used or played with or however it might be called what they were doing to me, my balls are constantly aching. They are so full and tight because the ring is so tight and i cannot masturbate or be masturbated to empty them and the ring makes me feel it even more how full they are and keeps up the erection for very long while i am lying there without getting much attention now. i am more eager now than i was before the treatment and the erection still holds. i start praying for my shaft to get limp or at least semi erect.

After a while they come back to me, looking down on me. i am blushing because i am still erect and displaying my arousal while i lie on the chair with my legs spread wide open.

They gag me with a ring gag, i open my mouth wide voluntarily as i am too humiliated to offer resistance. They then slip on something the “nurse” has been working on: a cylinder with a rod in it made to my exact measurements. The rod has an opening, like a catheter for peeing. I am scared by the sight of it.

But my shaft is still hard, twitching and erect like asking to be covered by the cylinder, impaled by the rod.

"The Seed Extractor. Or call it milking machine. Or de-seeder" I hear the doctor explain to my Owners "What a wonderful device! Seed can be extracted without allowing the slave only the slightest pleasure. And you see … when it drools out through the rod it can be collected here in the test-tube. And the best thing: When I use it on a slave the slave will not be given the slightest pleasure of stimulation. The process lasts clearly longer than a conventional milking by anal stimulation but the effect of granting him no pleasure may definitely be worth it."

Then it is very humiliating and degrading as they bring the cylinder and the rod in place. Also, a bit painful when the rod goes in and through the tightened root of my shaft where the ring is to keep it shut when it erects. The vacuum is a strange feeling then arousing in the beginning but uncomfortable after a while and it takes a long time since the seed comes out. 23 minutes, 52 seconds as the “nurse” announces and the “doctor” writes it down. i did not feel any sensation or stimulation, I really felt nearly nothing but knew when it was drooling through the rod. i felt very ashamed somehow. i heard them say that the amount was quite not very much and I should be trained and treated to increase the amount. "It is less than 2.5 ml of semen." I heard the doctor say.

Afterwards i was still hard and maybe more eager and aroused than before. Though it felt uncomfortable and a bit painful i was more excited and sensitive afterwards than before. But at least the pressure and ache in my balls had gone.

i heard that i am to return weekly for my maintenance, where also my ring will be removed for cleaning and maintenance.

Suddenly I become aware of the sight of me i am presenting to them: My arms and legs fully outstretched and the ropes already cutting into my wrists and ankles. I can’t move at all. I am suspended meat. My shaft is exposed and i am gapingly open. I’d never felt so naked. Or so defenseless. Or so humiliated. i start sobbing uncontrollably.

For a while they are looking down on me, my Owner looks me into the eyes and says:

"Thats what is left of you strong, proud alpha. Emasculated. Reduced to a Human Dildo. Or a fuckdoll. Depending on the way you are going to be used in the case. Used constantly. Relentlessly. You can’t accept this. You don‘t welcome it. Yet feel that what you accept, or welcome is of no matter."

She brings the test-tube to my mouth and pours the milky liquid through the ring gag into it.

I feel tears run down my face. I am sobbing in silence while they are walking out of the room, leaving me alone, still strapped to the chair. My shaft still hard. The taste of my own seed lingering in my mouth.

#fs14 #submission

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fickstueck-fs14 · 1 month ago

Text

THE HUMAN PONY - HARD RIDING

„PICK YOUR FEET UP! KEEP THAT BACK STRAIGHT!“

i LISTENED MUTELY TO THE COMMANDS GIVEN BY THE IMPOSING BARONESS. i LONGED TO LASH OUT AT my TORMENTOR, BUT THE METHOD

OF my BONDAGE LEFTHIM LITTLE RECOURSE EXCEPT TO FOLLOW MEEKLY WHERE i WAS LED.

„TAKE HIMTO A STALL AND CHAIN HIM ON HIS KNEES. I WILL BE ALONG SHORTLY.“

ONCE INSIDE THE WOODEN STALL i WAS FORCED TO KNEELON THE STRAW ROUGH BOARDS. THE LEAD ON my BALLS WAS MADE FAST TO A RING SET IN THE FLOOR. WITH my WRISTS AND NECK CHAINED TOGETHER HOLDING me SECURELY DOWN ON ALL FOURS...

„I HAVE A LITTLE HARNESS HERE TO IMPROVE YOUR CONFIRMATION. ... THAT'S A GOOD BOY! JUST STAY CALM WHILE I FASTEN THIS ON YOU, NICE AND SNUG“

THE BARONESS LAID THE TANGLE OF COLD LEATHER OVER my BACK AND BEGAN TO ARRANGE AND TIGHTEN THE STRAPS THAT HELD THE BIZARRE HUMAN SADDLE IN PLACE. SHE CINCHED THE BROAD BAND UNDER my BELLY SO TIGHT i COULD HARDLY BREATH AND FASTENED THE LONG LEADS ATTACHED TO IT OVER my SHOULDERS, BACK BETWEEN my LEGS. EVERY BELT WAS PULLED UP TILL IT CUT PAINFULLY INTO my FLESH, ASSURING THAT THE SADDLE COULD NOT SLIP AN INCH!

„OPEN WIDE“

my GAG WAS REMOVED FOR A MOMENT, ONLY TO BE REPLACED BY A CRUEL BIT DEVICE WITH REINS AND BLINDERS.

UNMERCIFULLY THE PERVERSE TRANSFORMATION CONTINUED AS THE BARONESS MOLDED me INTO A GROTESQUE PARODY OF A HORSE. ma ARMS WERELACED INTO LONG SHEATHS AND my LEGS WERE BENT AND STRAPPED INTO LEFTHER BNDERS BOTH OF WHICH HAD METAL HORSESHOES RIVETTED TO THEM, FORCING me TO BALANCE UNSTEADILLY ON THE POINTS OF my KNEES.

„WE'RE ALMOST DONE WITH YOU NOW!“

AS A FINAL HUMILIATING TOUCH THE BARONESS TOOK A WHIP MADE OF HORSEHAIR WITH A SMOOTH LEATHER HANDLE AND SHOVED IT INTO my EXPOSED ANUS THROUGH AN OPENING IN THE HARNESS.

SHE TIED IT SECURELY IN PLACE TO A PAIR OF CONVENIENTLY PLACED BRASS RINGS, THEN STOOD BACK TO ADMIRE HER EFFORTS...

„COME ALONG, HORSIE!“

THE PREPARATIONS WERE DEEMED COMPLETE AND i WAS LED OUT FROM THE STABLE ...

THE BARONESS LED me BY my REINS OUT INTO AN ARENA RINGED WITH SPECTATORS. SITTING ALOOF IN A SHADED PAVILLION ABOVE THE SUN SCORCHED SAND OF THE RINK SAT my OWNER. GLANCING AROUND i SAW TWO OTHER UNFORTUNATE WRETCHES, HARNESSED AS i WAS, WITH WOMEN DRESSED IN RIDING CLOTHES AND BOOTS SEATED ASTRIDE THEIR SAGGING BACKS....

„YOUR ANIMAL IS READY, MY DEAR“

i THEN FELT my OWN BACK BEND AS THE BARONESS LOWERED HER SHAPELY BUTTOCKS INTO my SADDLE. GRABBING THE LEADS TO my BIT SHE PULLED my HEAD SHARPLY UPWARD, TO ATTENTION, AS THE ANNOUNCER ROSE TO SPEAK...

„NOW, LET THE CONTEST BEGIN! "

WHEN THE GUN WENT OFF i FELT AS THOUGH my WORLD EXPLODED WITH IT! THE CROWD ROARED AS THE RIDER'S WHIPS LASHED INTO THEIR MOUNT'S FLANKS. THE REINS JERKED BACK CAUSING me TO REAR UP IN PAIN AND SPURS DUG INTO my THIGHS URGING me FORWARD. LIKE THE DUMB HORSE i RESEMBLED i STUMBLED AWKWARDLY WITH THE OTHERS ACROSS THE HOT SAND OF THE TRACK!

„GIDDY- UP BOY!“

WITH CROPS FLAILING IN ABANDON THE RIDERS DROVE THEIR MOUNTS FORWARD.

STILL i WAS IN THE REAR AND EVEN THE FRANTIC THRASHING OF THE CROP WHICH RAISED A MASS OF BURNING WEALS ACROSS my RUMP COULD NOT DRIVE me TO MOVE FASTER.

THE BLOOD POUNDED IN my HEAD AND SWEAT STUNG my EYES. i WAS PANTING FROM THE EXERTION AS THE BIT DISTENDING my JAWS FORCED me TO BREATH THROUGH FLARINE NOSTRILS. THE STRAPS CHAPED AND DUG CRUELLY INTO my BODY. i COULD FEEL my MUSCLES REACHING THEIR BREAKING POINT! THEN, JUST AS i WAS ABOUT TO GIVE UP AND FACE WHATEYER PUNISHMENT THE BARONESS DECREED, i FELT

THE BARONESS BEND FORWARD ON my BACK AND WHISPER INTO my EAR....

„YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED TO KNOW, fickstück, THAT YOUR OWNER PLANS TO HAVE YOU BREEDED BY THE OTHER HORSES IF YOU LOOSE! IF YOU VALUE YOUR PRECIOUS VIRGINITY I SUGGEST YOU WORK A LITTLE HARDER!“

AS THE BARONESS SPOKE THESE LAST WORDS SHE CUT VERTICALLY WITH HER CROP BETWEEN my BUTTOCKS CATCHING me ON THE BALLS, TO EMPHASIZE HER POINT!

WITH AN ENERGY BORN OF DESPARATE FEAR AND PAIN i LUNGED THE FINISH LINE INCHES AHEAD OF THE OTHERS. i COLLAPSED ONTO THE DUST OF THE ARENA, GASPING IN AGONY.

my OWNER DESCENDED FROM HER SEAT ON THE PAVILLION. AMIDST THE CHEERS OF THE ASSEMBLED SPECTATORS SHE CONGRADULATED HER BARONESS.

„WELL DONE, MY DEAR! I KNEW YOU WOULD NOT DISSAPOINT ME“

„YOU DID WELL TODAY SLANE YOU SAVED YOUR VIRGINITY AND WON YOURSELF A CONFINEMENT WITH ONE OF THE REAL HORSES! BUT I CAN SEE YOU STILL ARE IN NEED OF TRAINING“

THE BARONESS DRAGGED me TO A KNEELING POSITION. MY MIND REFLED AT THE RAPIDITY WITH WHICH THIS WOMAN HAD REDUCED me TO THE DEPTHS OF DEGREDATION, AND THERE APPEARED TO BE NO END IN SIGHT!

#fs14

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fickstueck-fs14 · 1 month ago

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Introduced to the Baroness

i only knew that a presentation including an inspection on me would be conducted today. This way i would be introduced to the new Lover of my Owner. i never had seen Her before and neither would i today as i was hooded and blindfolded.

A long time i was waiting there in the posture assigned to me for body inspections. On all fours on the display rack, legs anytime ready to be spread, head lowered slightly and looking to the floor, back arched and my ass stuck out like i was offering myself to whatever. They were behind me so now i was presenting my backside to them.

i have no rights and may not speak or show emotion to them. When i am examined by Her lover i must remain passive and perfectly still. Even when i am flogged.

i must be silent. Still. Utterly passive. Obedient.

The whip hit me from time to time. The lashes were not predictable and they were extremely painful. i felt that they were not deliveed by my Owner, so it was Her Lover. i managed not to cry, moan or give away any other sound.

After a while i heard Her say to my Owner: „Well, the shape of its body is nice. Athletic, lean, slender, strong and these pronounced gluteal muscles. I like it. But ... its body control ... its straight posture in its positions must be improved. Did you see its reactions when the whip hit it? It shows too much response to the whip. It winces, flinches and writhes. We have to work on that. Can’t wait to start training it.“

Then i felt Her fingers examine my nipples. „I like its nipples. Tiny and petite. But hard. As if begging to be clamped.“

Her hand was cupping my balls now. „I love this cockring. It’s gorgerous. And so tight. Must be painful for it when it has a hardon?“ She started squeezing my balls a bit. „Very nice“ She said. „Balls are firm and tight. So tight and full! You would think the tight ring would deaden sensation, yet somehow it seems to heighten it. And the NEED! Can you hear its heavy breathing in need and anticipation to be released? We have to work on that too.“

After She had put her fingers into my mouth She now was probing my anus with Her fingers, moisted with my saliva.

I feel humiliated and helpless. Degraded. More than ever in my life before. my Owner and Her Lover can see my nervousness and shyness. i don’t want them to see that. i want to appear strong. i don’t know why, but I am starting to build an erection. Oh my God! my cock is starting to erect! NO! Not in front of Her! I don’t want Her to see me like that!

„Didn’t you say it claims to be hetero? No bisexual tendencies? So why is it getting hard while I am probing its anus?“

Being shown off this way to Her new Lover somehof feels like a sexual assault.

i feel like a piece of meat. And i am afraid to recognize that i am embarrassed but also excited about the situation. Why am i so excited? Am i really like this? Like a horny slut?

Then She is round me and standing in front of me. In one hand She is holding a curled bullwhip. i am shocked. Intimidated. i love the bullwhip as an object, a symbol of status. For me the bullwhip has something erotic. It displays power and submission. But i fear it as hell as an instrument. i never have been whipped with a single tail bullwhip right now and this is something that does not appear on my wishlist. I fear it too much.

Then i recognize Her nipples under the lace of her dress. The idea of Her nipples strucks me like thunder and lightning. The sight of Her hard nipples, pushing the lace drives me crazy.

i want to touch Her. i want to fuck Her. i can see Her nipples through the lace and they are continuing to drive me crazy. i can not take my eyes off them.

i am thinking about nipple clamps for Her to make Her moan in pain while i would mount Her. i would love to fix the clamps at Her wonderful nipples. i would love to hurt Her, just to hear Her cry and moan. i would fuck Her from behind. i would fuck Her like a stallion. i would make Her suck my cock and i would ejaculate on Her gorgeous tits. Then i would tie Her with ropes and fuck Her again. She would look beautiful in bondage and pain and humiliation.

i would pierce them with rings so that i could attach a chain to them and walk Her around with a leash attached to these hard nipples.

Now i realize that i have a full erection. my cock is twitching and the tip of it is gleamingly wet with precum. my situation comes back to my mind. OH MY GOD. NO!

„I know what you are thinking about, fickstück.“ She says and at the same time She penetrates my anus with the handle of Her bullwhip. The penetration hurts, the handle of the whip impaling me merciless deeper and deeper, pressing on my prostate gland. i feel helpless now. Dirty and filthy. Used. Abused.

„But … I will teach you what you are. And I will teach you who i am. I am your Owner’s Lover. You are only an object. Property. That is you. And NEVER will a slave, an object, property like you even touch any part of my body. You will never see me naked. You will never touch me. You will never look me in the eyes.“

She steps back in front of me, looks down on me. The bullwhip still sticking in my anus. It must look like i have a tail now. Like an animal. My anger fading away. The feeling of shame and fear rising up again.

Then she walks away. i feel helpless now. Dirty and filthy. Used. Abused.

@baronessashley @lavierge-defer

#fs14 #femdom #malesub #submission

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fickstueck-fs14 · 1 month ago

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“I am a proud and beautiful wild horse that has been captured, broken in and now lives devoted to my rider. And I am led by the reins - my clamped and chained nipples – by my beautiful rider who whips me and spurs me to race harder for her pleasure.”

Waiting to be bridled by Her with that tight and uncomfortable bit gag that makes me drool my saliva.

#fs14 #ponyboy #human pony

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fickstueck-fs14 · 1 month ago

Text

Hochzeitstag

Sie war in der Tat sehr attraktiv, und die Tatsache, dass sie sich so verletzlich zeigte, hatte eine immense Wirkung auf mich. Ich spürte, wie mein Herz in meiner Brust pochte und mein Magen sich zusammenzog. Ich spürte, wie sich mein Schwanz verhärtete und wollte ihn mit meinen Fingern streicheln. Stattdessen schlug ich meine Beine übereinander. Der Ring war mittlerweile unerträglich eng.

Das Publikum war still, nur gelegentliches Gemurmel war zu hören, als wir alle dasaßen und sie und ihre Peiniger beobachteten. Die Sklavin, obwohl sie eigentlich wie eine Dame wirkte, zumindest als Sie hergeführt wurde, zerrte ein paar Mal vergeblich an den Fesseln, und wir alle sahen gebannt zu, wie sich ihre Muskeln unter dem Licht deutlich anspannten und spannten.

Wir sahen dabei zu, wie sie gepeitscht wird. Es waren auch noch andere Zuschauer da aber wir saßen etwas abseits von denen.

Sie wurde unerbittlich gepeitscht, von zwei Damen und einem Mann. Die Peitschen machten mir Angst. Zumindest die beiden Single Tails. Eine war fast zwei Meter lang und die andere ca. 1,5 Meter. Eine der Damen hatte eine lange Gerte.

Sie ließen der Sklavin nach jedem Schlag Zeit, zwischen sechs und zehn lange Atemzüge, bevor eine von ihnen zum nächsten Schlag ausholte.

Zuerst hatte die Sklavin bei jedem Schlag laut geschrien und sich verzweifelt in den Fesseln gewunden. Nach einiger Zeit ließ ihre Kraft nach, sie stöhnte nur noch laut auf und ihr Körper zuckte, ihre Muskeln spannten sich an, jedes Mal wenn die Peitsche sie traf. Jetzt hatte ihr Körper keine Kraft mehr. Er wurde nur noch von der Peitsche, der Härte des Hiebs, geschüttelt und selbst das Stöhnen war nur noch ein leises Wimmern, welches bei jedem Schlag mal leiser, mal lauter aus ihrer Kehle hervordrang.

Immer wieder gaben sie ihr Zeit, sich zu erholen, stimulierten sie mit dem Knauf einer Peitsche zwischen ihren Beinen oder an ihrem Anus.

Vor fünf Schlägen war dann schließlich ihr Kopf nach vorne gesunken und seitdem hatte sie ihn nicht mehr erhoben. Sie war bereits gebrochen aber sie wurde trotzdem nicht erlöst.

Wieder und wieder bekam sie die Peitsche und ich fragte mich, ob sie sie an den Punkt bringen wollten, an dem sie die Kontrolle über ihre Körperfunktionen verliert und sich ihre Blase öffnet. Ich hoffte es.

Ich war fasziniert von der Bestrafung, nahm nichts anderes mehr wahr. Irgendwie beneidete ich sie. Ich konnte nicht sagen warum. Ich beneidete sie, weil sie so behandelt wird. Weil man sehen konnte, wie sie bricht. Die Art, wie sie fixiert ist. Ihren gesenkten Kopf und ihren völlig kraftlosen Körper, der aber immer noch an Stolz und Stärke erinnerte.

Man konnte ihr zusehen, wie sie leidet, sie beobachten bei ihrem Kampf. Aber niemand hatte Mitleid und statt sie zu befreien oder ihr zu helfen machen sie Fotos von ihr und erfreuen sich an ihrem Anblick und ihrer Hilflosigkeit.

Sie weiß, dass sie dazu da ist. Was sie ist. Und sie fleht nicht, sondern behält ihren Stolz und kämpft.

Plötzlich bemerkte ich, wie sehr sie auch meiner Herrin gefiel. Ich wurde eifersüchtig. Ich wollte, dass ich ihr gefalle, auch wenn das bedeutete, dass sie mich so sieht, so behandelt oder behandeln lässt und nicht irgend eine fremde Schlampe.

Dann sah ich, dass sie die Sklavin so weit gebracht hatten, dass sie die Kontrolle über ihre Körperfunktionen verloren hatte. Ihre Blase hatte sich geöffnet und ihr Urin plätscherte zwischen ihren Beinen zu Boden.

Nun ließen sie von ihr ab. Aber sie lösten sie nicht aus der Fixierung. Die Damen ließen sie einfach hängen und kamen zu uns.

Meine Herrin ging den Damen entgegen und dann sah ich, dass eine der Damen meine Herrin küsste.

Sie kam mit der Dame zu mir.

"Wem gehörst du?“ fragte die Dame.

Ich senkte meinen Blick. Leise sagte ich: „Ich gehöre Kristin von Stahlschmerz“

"Deine Herrin sagte mir, es hat dir sehr gefallen, was du gerade gesehen hast.“

„Ja, ich wollte Ihnen sagen, dass ich es sehr beeindruckend finde, wie sie ihre Sub behandeln.“ sagte ich.

„Danke, wie behandeln wir sie denn?“

„Naja, wie eben eine Sklavin behandelt werden sollte. Streng, hart, konsequent. Sie lassen sich nicht von Mitleid erweichen, sondern behandeln sie so, dass sie spüren kann, dass sie Ihnen untergeordnet ist, dass sie es leichter hat, wenn sie gehorcht und gefällt, als wenn sie versucht ihren Willen durchzusetzen. Sie behandeln und dressieren sie mehr wie ein Tier und ich glaube das spürt sie und es gefällt ihr.“

„Würde es dir auch gefallen, so behandelt zu werden?“

Ihre Frage verunsicherte mich: „Ich bin mir nicht sicher, ob mir das gefallen würde. Ob ich es aushalten würde.“

„Deine Herrin sagte mir auch, es würde dir helfen, regelmäßig gebrochen und konditioniert zu werden. So wie sie.“ Sie sah in die Richtung der Sklavin. „Sie hat mich darum gebeten, dich in unser Erziehungsprogramm aufzunehmen.“

„Stimmt das?“ Entsetzt sah ich meine Herrin an.

„Ja. Das stimmt“ antwortete sie.

"Möchtest du das wirklich?" fragte ich meine Herrin.

Ich sah hinüber zu der Sklavin. Sie war nun von ihren Fesseln befreit. Auf allen Vieren war sie auf dem Boden und zwei Männer trieben sie mit Peitschen wie ein Tier vor sich her.

"Ja, fickstück, ich möchte das wirklich." antwortete sie sofort.

Die Männer hatten die Sklavin zu einem Kreuz getrieben, das auf dem Boden lag. Jetzt wurde sie auf diesem Kreuz fixiert. Sie leistete keinen Widerstand, wehrte sich nicht, gab sich fast bedingungslos dem Kreuz und den Männern hin. Ich fragte mich, ob sie es als eine Art Erlösung wahrnehmen würde, jetzt endlich gekreuzigt zu werden.

"Bitte nicht, Herrin" sagte ich und sah Sie an. Sie lächelte. Dann sah sie mich kalt an.

"Zieh dich aus. Hier. Sofort."

[…]

Ich war nackt. Es war mir peinlich, so nackt und schutzlos vor ihr zu stehen. Ich wusste nicht, wie ich mich verhalten sollte. Also sah ich einfach nur zu Boden. Ich war nackt, meine Hände auf den Rücken gebunden und ich wurde von der Dame an einer Leine geführt.

„Empfindest du es als ungerecht, dass du nicht mehr selbst entscheiden kannst was mit dir geschieht und wann und wie du kommst oder ob du überhaupt kommen darfst?“

Sie sah mich herausfordernd an und ich hatte das Gefühl, sie könnte spüren, wie peinlich mir diese Frage war.

„Nein“ sagte ich nur, mehr brachte ich nicht heraus.

Du musst keine Angst haben, Fickstück, ich kümmere mich um dich, führe dich. Du kannst nichts falsch machen. Ich kümmere mich um alles und ich erkläre dir auch alles.

Deine Herrin hat dich mir anvertraut. Du bist sicher stolz auf deine Herrin. Wie sie sich bemüht. Dass sie dich in unserer Erziehungsanstalt angemeldet hat. Das ist sehr teuer. Es kostet mehr als du wert bist.

Sie möchte, dass du heute nur zusiehst. Damit du weißt, was dich erwartet. Einen Teil hast du ja schon gesehen. Hat es dir gefallen, wie wir die Sklavin gepeitscht haben? Du musst nicht antworten, Fickstück. Es war deutlich zu sehen wie sehr es dir gefallen hat. Es hat dich richtig geil gemacht." Sie lachte. „Aber keine Angst, das wirst du noch bereuen.“

Wir sahen eine Frau, die fixiert war. Vorgebeugt, die Arme hinter ihrem Rücken senkrecht hochgezogen, die Beine gespreizt. Eine Kette ging von Ihrem Halsband ab und war am Boden fixiert.

Die Dame sagte: "„Oh, da mag aber jemand diesen Anblick. Schau, wie hart er geworden ist! Sicher bedauert er es jetzt, dass er nur ein Fickstück ist. Es muss ihn doch in den Wahnsinn treiben, diesen harten Schwanz nicht irgendwo reinstecken zu können.“ Sie lachte.

"Er hat es nicht besser verdient." sagten Sie. "Er weiß, dass ich ihm ihn abschneiden würde, falls er sowas tut. Er weiß, dass er sich nicht mal anfassen darfst ohne dass ich es erlaube.“

Nach einer kurzen Pause fügte sie hinzu: „Hm ... und weil er es doch getan hat und sicher auch wieder tut ist er ja nun hier.“

"Was denkst du, Fickstück, sieht anstrengend aus, oder?" fragte die Dame.

"ja" antwortete ich "aber sehr schön, irgendwie. Und erniedrigend. Als würde sie sich anbieten. Als würde sie darum bitten."

"Worum bitten?" fragte meine Herrin.

"Gepeitscht zu werden. Und dann genommen zu werden, Herrin.“

"Ich glaube, das wäre auch eine gute Position für dich. Nur so, zu meiner Unterhaltung. Was meinst du, würde dir das gefallen?"

Mir wurde heiß. "Ich denke nicht, dass mir das gefallen würde. Es wäre sehr anstrengend und unangenehm. Und beschämend"

"Aber es geht dabei ja nicht unbedingt um deinen Spaß, Fickstück. Oder?"

"Nein, Herrin, es geht darum, dass ich die Kontrolle verliere. Es nicht mehr wage mich Ihnen zu verweigern."

"Eben" sagte sie und lächelten mich an "Dir ist aber schon klar, dass du da gerade eine neue Position siehst für das nächste mal wenn ich dich ficken werde. Die Position gefällt mir auch sehr gut. Sehr praktisch, ich käme problemlos in dich rein. Vielleicht auch mit dem Strapon. Dann bist du wirklich ein Fickstück. So wie sie."

"Sie wartet auf ihre Konditionierung" sagte die Dame.

"Nein, bitte nicht!" flehte die Sklavin "Bitte nicht! Ich halte das nicht aus! Ich mache alles! Alles was ihr wollt aber nicht das!"

Dann wurden wir von der Dame durch einen langen Flur geführt. Ich hatte immer noch die Hände hinter dem Rücken fixiert. Sie führte mich an einer Leine.

Wir kamen in eine Art Halle, in der viele Käfige standen. Wie große Vogelkäfige. In den Käfigen waren Männer und Frauen. Alle nackt. alle fixiert in einer hockenden Position, die Hände über dem Kopf.

Sie sahen alle extrem gut aus und ich schämte mich, weil ich nicht ganz so fit aussah wie sie.

Hinter den Käfigen war eine Art Halle, in der ungefähr 15 Kreuze standen. Einige lagen noch auf dem Boden.

Auf einem wurde gerade eine Frau fixiert.

An den Kreuzen hingen Männer und Frauen. Sie wanden sich, stöhnten und flehten.

Ihre Hilflosigkeit und Verzweiflung war sehr ästhetisch.

Dei Situation erregte mich und ich wurde hart.

Ein Teil von mir wünschte sich, einer von ihnen zu sein, gekreuzigt, gequält und gedemütigt zu werden und ein anderer Teil von mir wollte ihnen nur dabei zusehen. Den Anblick und die Situation genießen.

Ich hätte meinen Schwanz angefasst, aber meine Hände waren hinter meinem Rücken fixiert.

"Sie werden erst vor Publikum konditioniert, wenn sie genug aushalten können. Hier werden sie trainiert, an die Konditionierung herangeführt. Oh, das klingt missverständlich. Sie werden konditioniert, aber noch auf einem anderen Level. Es wird mit der Zeit gesteigert. Es ist wie beim Krafttraining. Man muss es ständig steigern und anpassen. Und regelmäßig durchführen."

Dann waren wir wieder draußen. Ein paar Meter entfernt war wieder die Rothaarige. Die Sklavin, deren Auspeitschung wir am Anfang zugesehen hatten. Sie hatten sie mittlerweile gekreuzigt und das Kreuz aufgerichtet. Sie war alleine, etwas abseits standen drei Männer und vier Damen und unterhielten sich.

Einer der Männer kam zu uns herüber. Er sprach englisch und ich fragte mich, welche Rolle er hier spielte.

Ich war sehr verlegen, wollte nicht, dass mich jetzt auch noch ein Mann nackt sieht und ich versuchte mich wegzudrehen um meine Erektion zu verbergen.

Der Herr zeigte uns einen Knebel und begann zu erklären:

"There are gags and there are gags, some gags arouse Me as the submissive struggles to manage the excessive oral intrusion while making incredible sounds that only arouse Me more! I love inflatable gas because you can inflate them to the point of controlling the struggling submissive's ability to get any air! And I get so aroused watching them struggle helplessly as they gasp for life giving air.

Once you have strapped it on the submissive's head you have control over how deep that ball is forced into the submissive's oral cavity. I love the look in the eyes of the slave as they realize that their jaw is being slowly wedged open so wide that they just think it will break! And, the best part is when the ball reaches that point where breathing is nearly stopped and their eyes get so fucking big as they realize their absolute dependence on their Master… or Mistress."

"Mach den Mund auf." sagte meine Herrin wieder in diesem harten und kalten Ton.

Ich zögerte.

„Mach dein Fickmaul auf! Jetzt!“ herrschte sie mich an.

Ich öffnete meinen Mund und ließ mir den Knebel anlegen.

Sie pumpten ihn auf bis ich das Gefühl hatte, zu ersticken. Es war anstrengend und ein beängstigendes Gefühl. Mein Körper verkrampfte sich, meine Augen waren aufgerisssen und ich versuchte Luft zu bekommen.

Ich merkte, dass es ihr gefiel, mich in dieser Situation zu beobachten.

“Within each conditioning session we take photos of the subjects to document their improvement. They are given the photos and they have to discuss them regarding their posture and body shape. They have to assess themselves in a short, written report. Most humiliating, I know, but it has stated that this is a great motivator to the subjects to remain still and strict as long and as much as possible.”

"Oh, that suits well" lachte meine Herrin. "He’s kind of an exhibitionistic slut. He might like to be photographed during his conditioning."

„Well, when you are about to enslave a male, you have to break him in, condition him and bring him to total surrender. So that he will always serve and worship you, also make you feel important and of course be of some entertainment, but most of all obedient. So ...“

Er zeigte zu dem Kreuz, an dem die Rothaarige jetzt laut stöhnte, ihren Körper hin und her warf und mit aller Kraft an den Fesseln riss. Sie hatte völlig die Kontrolle über sich verloren. Eine der Damen ging zu ihr und gab ihr 10 sehr harte Schläge mit der Peitsche.

Es wirkte wie ein Beruhigungsmittel. Die Sklavin beruhigte sich und hatte sich dann wieder unter Kontrolle.

Irgendwie tat sie mir leid aber die Szene erregte mich auch. Auf eine gewisse Art war ich wieder eifersüchtig.

Die Dame legte nun Klammern an die Nippel der Sklavin. Danach führte sie ihr einen großen Dildo ein.

Ohne ein Wort ging sie weg und ließ die Sklavin alleine. Sie war jetzt wieder still und bewegte sich nicht.

„The submissive must be trained to think only of your needs. Its mind must be conditioned to think only of ways of pleasing you; it must make you feel important and powerful, so it must be shaped into a pleasurable and desirable form.

The body with a healthy diet and exercise, but the mind is a different matter.“

Vom Kreuz her hörte ich sie wieder Stöhnen. Aber nicht so laut und unkontrolliert wie vorher. Diesmal ließen sie sie in Ruhe.

„They are taught to be restrained and exposed in the most humiliating and vulnerable positions, sometimes for hours, without complaining.

This way you know exactly where they are and what they are doing.

It is essential, that they are properly gagged and blindfolded so that their senses are not distracted from heir situation. We use gags and inflate them to the maximum extent to give the slave the feeling of suffocating. This way it recognizes how dependent it is on its Owner.

And never the slave is addressed, spoken to or asked anything during its time on display.

It may be punished, played with or ignored. Essential is that it never receives any personal or individual attention.

All this keeps the slave in purgatory at all times so that its mind is focused on you and only you - exactly where it is supposed to be.

They can not remain still and silent the whole time, this is physically impossible. But as moaning and struggling gets too much, that is where punishment comes in. As soon as it is allowed to develop too much resistance. It might even disobey you. The conditioning cures those kinds of thoughts and it makes it completely receptive to any action you wish to take.

This is of course very extreme, but nevertheless, all our submissives go through this kind of training. It does help them to focus properly. It is also a way of punishment for them.“

„An unserem Hochzeitstag wird deine erste Konditionierung hier stattfinden.“ eröffnete mir meine Herrin. „Ich erwarte, dass dein Körper dann perfekt aussieht. Ich möchte stolz sein auf meinen Sklaven. Bis dahin hast du noch Zeit, dich gut zu ernähren und zu trainieren."

In diesem Moment verlor die Sklavin am Kreuz den Dildo, der ihr eingeführt worden war. Sie stöhnte und riss wieder an ihren Fesseln. Gleichzeitig näherten sich drei Damen, die jeweils einen Rottweiler an der Leine führten.

Wir sahen zu ihr hinüber und dann sahen wir uns an.

Sie lächelte.

#fs14

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fickstueck-fs14 · 1 month ago

Photo

Dein Name: Fickstück (das)

Bedeutung (Definition) [1] abwertend: eine Frau, die sich sexuell benutzen lässt und vom Mann auf ihre sexuelle Verfügbarkeit reduziert wird [2] verbale Erniedrigung

Sprachvarietät: Vulgärsprache

Sprachgebrauch: abwertend / derb

Mein Fickstück,

du hast mich in den letzten Tagen mehrmals gebeten, deinen Namen zu ändern. Abgesehen davon, dass es dir nicht zusteht, mich um etwas zu bitten: Deine Bitte wird abgelehnt.

Zur Begründung hast du dich darauf berufen, der Name sei ordinär, niveaulos, erniedrigend, herabsetzend und nicht wirklich passend, da normalerweise Frauen als Fickstück bezeichnet würden. Außerdem würdest du dich schämen, so bezeichnet zu werden.

Zunächst mal: Es ist völlig irrelevant, ob der Name dir gefällt oder nicht. Er muss MIR gefallen, nicht dir. Du musst ihn nicht mögen. Du musst lediglich darauf reagieren, wenn du ihn hörst.

Ist dir mal in den Sinn gekommen, dass dir der Name peinlich sein soll? Dass er bewusst ordinär, niveaulos, erniedrigend und beschämend ist? Dass ich ihn für dich gewählt habe, weil er dich daran erinnern soll, zu was ich dich mache und was du sein wirst? Er objektiviert dich, du bist nur noch ein Objekt, ein Stück zur Befriedigung meiner Triebe wann immer mir danach ist dich zu benutzen. Oder dich benutzen zu lassen.

Es passt auch gut: Ich hätte nicht gedacht, dass die Beringung so gut funktioniert und dich wirklich entmannt. Es gefällt mir sehr gut, dass du nicht mehr Ejakulieren kannst wenn dein, nein MEIN Schwanz hart ist. Und wie lange er hart bleibt. Wodurch fühlst du dich mehr entmannt? Durch die Tatsache, dass du nicht mehr kommen, nicht mehr abspritzen kannst oder dadurch, dass du von mir als „Human Dildo“ benutzt wirst, selber aber nichts davon hast? Hier siehst du wieder, wie gut der Name zu dir passt, mein Fickstück.

Ich weiß, der Name gefällt dir nicht aber jetzt weißt du, wozu ich dich mache, was ich von dir erwarte und du wirst dir Mühe geben, meine Erwartungen zu erfüllen.

Erinnere dich an die erste Nacht nach deiner Beringung: Ich sagte dir, du würdest nicht mehr kommen können aber du hast mir nicht geglaubt.

Was ich mit dir gemacht habe war auch eine Machtdemonstration.

Du musstest dich so beherrschen, mich nicht anzuflehen nicht aufzuhören und dich kommen zu lassen. Oder es noch mal zu machen, damit du noch eine Chance hättest. Du hast so verzweifelt darum gekämpft irgendwie dein Sperma rauszudrücken. Du gespürt wie mein (ich nenne ihn mein, weil er mir gehört) Schwanz zuckt wie bei einem Orgasmus aber du warst nicht in der Lage zu kommen. Es war so erniedrigend für dich, vor allem, weil ich es angekündigt hatte. Und du warst so hilflos.

Mein Schwanz zuckte und arbeitete wie bei einem Orgasmus, aber sonst passierte nichts. Du warst nicht in der Lage zu ejakulieren oder dich von deiner Erregung und Geilheit zu erlösen, auch, weil der Ring so eng ist. Das erlösende Gefühl eines Orgasmus fehlte völlig, stattdessen ein Gefühl, das du mir nur schwer erklären konntest, wie Phantomschmerz, wie die Vorstellung des Gefühls, das Wissen, dass dieses Gefühl da sein sollte. Und die Verzweiflung, dass es nicht da war.

Aber der Schwanz blieb auch nach diesem „NOrgasmus“ hart und du konntest nicht ruhig liegen bleiben. Du wusstest nicht, zumindest behauptest du das, wie laut du gestöhnt hast und wie erbärmlich du gefleht hast. Dieser Zustand dauerte aber ziemlich lange.

Es war neu für mich, dass nichts „passierte“, du nicht doch irgendwie gekommen bist sondern einfach nichts passierte. Es machte dich sichtlich aber nur noch begieriger, geiler und erregter. Mir gefiel das sehr.

Es gab nur noch verzweifelte Erregung und Lust aber keine Erlösung. Nur Verlangen.

Ich hatte überlegt, dir zu gestatten dich selbst anzufassen, aber dann hätte ich dich losbinden müssen.

Durch den Ring kannst du nicht wirklich masturbiert werden, weil er so eng wird, dass sich die Vorhaut nicht mehr bewegen lässt… auch mit Gleitgel ist es dann erst recht unmöglich, die Vorhaut zu bewegen. Und ich hatte Gleitgel an den Händen von vorhin. Es würde also nicht klappen. Keine Gefahr. Ich tastete den Ring ab. Ich sah dir an wie du dich fühlst: gedemütigt, kontrolliert. In Kombination mit deiner unkontrollierten Geilheit und Verzweiflung wunderschön.

Als ich dich später erlöst hatte, war der Ring für dich unangenehm eng. Mein Schwanz und deine Hoden waren so voll dass sie sich straff und gespannt anfühlten, weil der Ring so eng war. Ich sagte dir, der Ring solle dich daran erinnern, dass du nicht masturbieren oder masturbiert werden kann, um dich zu entleeren und dass der Ring dich noch mehr spüren lässt, wie voll sie sind. Außerdem hält er die Erektion sehr lange aufrecht.

Nach dieser Behandlung, diesem „NOrgasmus“ warst du noch geiler und erregter als vorher und diese Geilheit und Erregung habe ich die ganze Nacht und noch am nächsten Morgen beobachtet.

So habe ich dich gesehen: Mein Fickstück. Wie es da liegt. Nackt und geil. Devot und willig. Sich anbietet, mich anfleht. So hilflos und ausgeliefert. Ein williges, nacktes und geiles Sklavenstück, mit gespreizten Beinen liegt es auf dem Rücken und zerrt an seinen Fesseln. Es ist geknebelt. Darum kann es nur mit Körpersprache kommunizieren. Ich könnte ihm ewig dabei zusehen, wie es sich anbietet und seine Herrin verzweifelt bittet und anfleht. Es gibt nur eins, das es noch möchte: gemolken zu werden, zu spüren, wie das Sperma ausläuft, ohne Sensation, ohne Orgasmus, ohne Stimulation oder Berührung seines Schwanzes. Als Fickstück soll es immer geil sein. Darum darf es nicht kommen, damit es immer geil ist. Und: Ja! Das ist es. Ein devotes, geiles, williges und flehendes Fickstück. Jetzt gibt es sich noch mehr Mühe. Es zeigt mir, wie ein kleines, notgeiles Fickstück sich anbietet und darum bittet, darum fleht, benutzt und erzogen zu werden und, in diesem Falle, gemolken zu werden. Es stöhnt für mich und zeig mir meinen Schwanz, bietet seinen Arsch an. Es hat Angst, dass es zu fordernd ist, hat Angst, dass es Klammern bekommt, die Gerte oder Strom. Aber die Angst hindert es nicht, es muss einfach weiter flehen, bitten, sich anbieten. Sich Mühe geben. Es kann nicht anders.

Nomen est omen.

#fs14 #submission

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fickstueck-fs14 · 1 month ago

Text

Hengst & Stute für Lady Eve

Wir erreichten einen Reiterhof.

Bei unserer Ankunft musste ich mich in einer Box entkleiden und mir wurde von Ihnen ein Harness angelegt. Sie wissen, wie mich das Harness verunsichert, es stellt eher zur Schau als dass es bedeckt. Aber es ist Ihnen wichtig, denn es zwingt mir eine Körperspannung auf, wie Sie es für ihr menschliches Pony mögen. Das Harness war sehr eng geschnürt. Es so zu tragen ist anstrengend und es schmerzt und es dauert lange, bis ich mich schließlich daran gewöhnt habe. Vollständige Entspannung ist unmöglich. Ich bleibe funktionsfähig, auch wenn ich mich unwohl fühle. Für Sie bin ich weniger als ein ungezähmtes Tier. Niemand kümmert sich darum, ob es mir unangenehm ist.

Nach dem Harness werden meine Arme hinter meinem Rücken gefesselt, was für für mich noch unangenehmer ist. Dies ist das einzige Mal, dass Sie während des Trainings ihre eigene Körperkraft benötigen, da es sehr anstrengend ist, die Arme korrekt und fest hinter dem Rücken des Ponys zu binden. Da ich ein Pony bin, brauche ich meine Arme nicht mehr und ich werde ständig daran erinnert, dass mein Körper nicht mehr mein eigener ist. Die gefesselten Arme sollen mir helfen zu akzeptieren, dass ich ein Tier geworden bin. Außerdem werde ich durch eine korrekte Fesselung in eine aufrechte Position gezwungen, in der ich meine Brust präsentiere, die Schultern werden nach hinten gezogen und mein Schwanz und mein Hintern auf eine für Sie mehr als ansprechende Weise präsentiert. Ein zusätzlicher Vorteil der strikten Fesselung und Haltung ist, dass ich in allen Bereichen meiner Dressur reaktionsschneller und gehorsamer werde.

Ihr Zeichen über meinem Schwanz wird vom Riemen des Harness verdeckt, aber das auf meinem Po ist gut sichtbar. Ich weiß, wie wichtig es Ihnen ist, dass Ihr Zeichen auf meinem Körper gut sichtbar ist.

Die Trense mit Scheuklappen schränkt mein Sichtfeld ein und die Beißstange stellt sicher, dass ich nicht mehr sprechen werde. Ich hasse es, wenn der Speichel beginnt aus meinem Mund zu tropfen und ich hasse es noch mehr, dann zu merken, wie sehr Sie meine Verlegenheit wegen dieser Erniedrigung genießen.

Meine Brustwarzen werden mit Ringen oder zumindest mit Klemmen versehen, um sie zu dekorieren oder um Glöckchen oder kleine Ketten daran zu befestigen. Ich weiß, dass Sie Glocken oder Ketten, die an Nippelklemmen befestigt sind, hübsch und auch nützlich finden. Das Klimpern amüsiert Sie. Noch wichtiger aber ist Ihnen, dass es Ihnen ermöglicht, ohne hinzusehen zu wissen, ob ich mich bewege oder stillstehe. Vor allem aber zwingen sie mich zu kontrollierten Bewegungen, denn die Bewegungen der Ketten oder Glöckchen verursachen stechende Schmerzen.

Sie genießen meine Angst und Nervosität als Sie mir den Pony Tail anlegen. Dazu wird ein Plug in mich eingeführt der nur mit etwas Speichel befeuchtet wird, der aus meinem Mund tropft. Es ist jedes Mal schmerzhaft wenn Sie mir den Pony Tail einführen. Ich stöhne laut auf vor Schmerz, als er den Schließmuskel durchstößt. Als er drin ist erhalte ich einige harte Schläge mit der Hand auf meinen Po. Verzweifelt frage ich mich, warum ein Tail so eingeführt werden muss. Dieser Schwanz hat doch nur den Zweck, Sie zu unterhalten und zu amüsieren und mich zu entmenschlichen.

Es ist immer wieder schwierig, auf künstlichen Hufen oder High Heels gehen, traben und laufen zu können. Immer wieder muss ich mich neu daran gewöhnen. Sie persönlich bevorzugen künstliche Hufe. Durch das Tragen der Hufe werde ich gezwungen, meine Haltung zu verändern. Dadurch werden die Kurven meines Körpers hervorgehoben und betont. Das Becken wird nach vorne geschoben und der Rücken gekippt, wodurch der Hintern stark betont wird. Meine Haltung ist aufrechter. Auf Hufen bin ich gezwungen, beim Gehen mit den Hüften zu wackeln und bekomme dadurch eine „sexy Ausstrahlung“ wie Sie es einmal nannten. Diese Art des Laufens zwingt mich dazu, meine Pony-Muskeln zu trainieren und zeigt mir auch hier wieder, dass mein Körper nicht mehr ihr eigener ist.

Ich bin nervös, denn ich kenne Ihre Einstellung als meine Herrin bezüglich meiner Dressur: Für Sie ist körperliche Züchtigung der Schlüssel zur Ausbildung von menschlichen Ponysklaven. Ein harter Schlag mit der Gerte der Herrin weist auf den kleinsten Fehler hin. Zögern, Ungeschicklichkeit und Unaufmerksamkeit werden mit Schmerz und Erniedrigung bestraft.

Auch wenn ich manchmal freundliche Worte höre, wenn ich gute Leistungen erbringe, ist die verbale Härte, ja fast Brutalität für Sie unerlässlich, um mir meinen minderwertigen Status vor Augen zu führen.

Absolute Sprachverhinderung ist für Sie unerlässlich, damit ich verstehe, dass ich ein Tier bin. Sie bevorzugen diesen subtileren Ansatz bei meiner Ausbildung zum Ponysklaven: Ich muss Befehle befolgen, und diese Befehle werden mir wie einem Tier beigebracht. Man sagt einem Pferd oder einem Hund nicht, dass es die Straße hinuntergehen oder um die Ecke gehen soll. Auch menschliche Ponys werden von Ihnen wie Tiere angesprochen und kommandiert und trainiert, nicht mehr wie andere Menschen.

Das ständige Klingeln der Glocken oder Ketten bereitet mir großen Stress. Ich versuche, mich zu bewegen, ohne die Glocken zum Läuten zu bringen. Das ist aber unmöglich.

Als Ihr Sklave, sowohl als Mensch als auch als Pony gewähren Sie mir keine sexuelle Befriedigung. Ich werde dauerhaft keusch gehalten. Manche Besitzer melken die Sklavenmänner und zwingen sie dann, ihr eigenes Ejakulat zu essen. Ich beneide die Ponys dieser Besitzer.

Dann gingen Sie mit mir auf dem Reithof spazieren. Ich war als Pony aufgezäumt. Ich war fast panisch, da ich bis jetzt niemanden gesehen hatte, der unbekleidet war. Ich war so nervös, dass ich Angst hatte ich würde nicht schaffen, meine Blase unter Kontrolle zu halten.

Dann sahen wir in einiger Entfernung die Szene aus Ihrem Bild „Kissing my mare“. Eine Dame, die ihrem Pferd einen zärtlichen Kuss auf die Stirn gibt. Als die Dame das Pferd berührte konnte man sehen, dass es ein Hengst ist und er bekam eine Erektion.

Sie fragten mich, ob mich das errege und ob ich gerne eine Stute sei. Ich konnte nicht antworten, da ich den Halfter mit Beißstange trug, aber ich bekam eine Erektion. „Dann bist du wohl gerne eine Stute, wenn dich der Anblick eines starken Hengstes so erregt“ sagten Sie.

Sie führten mich weiter, bis wir neben der Dame standen. Sie sagten ihr, dass sie einen schönen Hengst habe.

Ich konnte meinen Blick nicht von seiner Erektion wenden, sein Penis war extrem groß, hart, phallisch, dominant. Ich schämte mich vor mir selbst, da ich das Bedürfnis verspürte, seinen Penis anzufassen, zu streicheln oder masturbieren. Ich fragte mich wie es wäre, wenn er kommen würde. Ich beneidete ihn weil er noch Orgasmen haben konnte. Dann wurde mir meine Erektion wieder bewusst und die ganze Situation war mir so peinlich, dass ich am liebsten weggelaufen wäre. Aber Sie hielten meine Zügel fest in der Hand. Meine Erektion wurde durch den Ring verstärkt und aufrecht erhalten und so geil in Angesicht eines Hengstes zu wirken war mir sehr peinlich.

Die Dame bedankte sich für das Kompliment, das Sie ihr gemacht hatten und fragte, ob ich ein Hengst oder eine Stute sei.

Nachdem Sie sagten ich sei eine Stute fuhr sie mit Ihrer Hand über meinen Körper wie man es auch bei Tieren macht. Sie sah dabei aber Sie an und sagte: „So, eine Stute. Ja, dann verstehe ich, warum sie ihn so mag. Schönes Tier. Wie heißt sie?“

„Sie hat noch keinen Namen. Es reicht erst mal, wenn man ‚Stute’ sagt.

Die Dame nahm meinen harten Schwanz in die Hand und ich widerstand dem Drang, ihre Hand zu ficken. „Sie scheint es zu akzeptieren“ sagte sie zu Ihnen „Sie ist zwar geil und der Schwanz pulsiert, aber sie hat sich unter Kontrolle und versucht nicht, in meine Hand zu stoßen.“

Der Hengst wieherte und wurde unruhig.

„Er ist ein Zuchthengst. Gleich ist sein großer Moment“ sagte die Dame. „Die Anwesenheit einer Stute macht ihn natürlich an.“

Ich sah, wie etwas weiter eine Stute (ein richtiges Pferd) vorbereitet wurde.

„Na, meine Stute, möchtest du dir das ansehen?“ fragten Sie mich, aber ich konnte nicht antworten.

Ich wollte es mir ansehen und ich schämte mich, weil mich das alles hier so erregte. Weil ich den Hengst beneidete. Weil es mir unendlich peinlich ist, als Stute bezeichnet oder angesprochen zu werden, es mich aber auch stolz macht, wenn Sie es tun. Dann wurde der Hengst zur Stute geführt. Es waren ca. 50 Meter. Wir gingen vor ihm und ich fühlte mich von ihm beobachtet. Trotzdem, oder gerade deshalb, bemühte ich mich um eine perfekte Haltung und perfekte Bewegungen. Als würde ich versuchen, den Hengst heiß zu machen, ihn zu verführen, ihm zu gefallen.

#fs14

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