I slept an exhausted sleep on the carpet at the foot of her king-sized bed before waking slowly as the dawn light filtered through the hotel room curtains. I was naked, cold, tired, I ached all over and smelled of sex. It was clear that my Mistress hadn’t released me from my servitude of the night before, when she had taken me deeper into my submissive self than I’d ever been, making me her willing Slave.

I watched her get up and walk naked to the bathroom. I heard her pee and then she climbed back into bed.

“Come here, Slave, and worship my pussy,” she said.

I climbed onto the bed as instructed and lowered my face between her spread legs. I ran my tongue between her pussy lips. She was already wet and she too smelled of sex and a little of the piss she had just taken.

She chuckled and moaned as I lapped at her wetness.

“Yes, Slave, I didn’t bother wiping after my pee. Why would I when I know you will put your tongue wherever I tell you to.”

It didn’t take her long to orgasm loudly, holding my face firmly against her cunt as she came.

“Mouth open, Slut,” she commanded, as her juices squirted, coating my lips, tongue and throat and even filling my nose. I swallowed, gasping a little for air at the same time, my senses overwhelmed by the touch, taste, and smell of her.

“Now get off the bed and stand in front of me,” she said. “Stand up straight and put your hands on your head. I want to inspect my property and my handiwork from last night.”

I realised now that I was obeying her without question. Previously, my thought processes had been more considered, checking my willingness to submit, thinking about how far I was prepared to go, and whether it was now “my turn” to be the dominant one. I had always thought of myself as a dominant person who sometimes liked to be submissive. After last night, I was accepting “my place” as her Slave without question.

My tired mind tried to grapple with this shift, and all I could conclude was that my strong sexual craving to be humiliated by this dominant woman outweighed everything else. It felt liberating to accept this.

She lay back against raised pillows, her skin pale and her short blond hair slightly tousled by sleep. Her legs were spread and her pussy lips, below neatly trimmed blond pubes, were open, swollen, and wet. She looked me up and down with her superior smile, a smile I had once – as a colleague, an equal – found condescending and annoying. I wasn’t her equal anymore.

“I do like your very red knees,” she said, admiring my carpet burns, and certainly I had spent a lot of the previous evening on my knees and crawling on all fours on the hotel room carpet. “You had better get used to being on your knees because I have no intention of letting you rediscover your dominant side.”

“Mistress,” I said quietly, “After yesterday, I have no idea how I would find that version of me.”

“Good,” she smiled, “But I intend to humble and break you completely to be sure. Not now, but soon.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Turn around and show me that abused bottom of yours,” she said. I turned and she laughed. “Now that’s a work of art! I can still see the welts from your belt, which are only partly covered by the bruises from my hairbrush. How does it feel?”

“It hurt so much last night, Mistress,” and her hairbrush had brought me to tears, “But now it’s more of an uncomfortable ache. I know it will itch too as it heals.”

“The gift that keeps on giving,” she smiled, “but you’d better get used to it because I plan to punish you on a regular basis. Now turn back to face me.”

“Look at your pathetic cock and balls, all shrivelled and red,” she smirked. Like my knees, they were red and sore from the pain, and pleasure, she had inflicted the previous night. At one point she had attached wooden clothes pegs to my ball sack and had also repeatedly made me hard before using a riding crop to beat my cock until the erection diminished.

“Make yourself hard for me,” she ordered.

I took my tender cock in my right hand and started to stroke it gently.

“Do it much harder than that,” she said impatiently.

I pumped my abused cock faster until it was hard, feeling more discomfort than arousal.

“Bring yourself very close to orgasm and then put your hands back on your head,” she said.

Painfully, I did as she instructed and stood with my hands on my head and my cock erect. She gently encircled my shaft with her long, slender fingers and my cock twitched, responding to her delicate touch.

“It is important to me,” she said softly, “That you know your place, that you understand that you no longer have any right to sexual pleasure. I may choose, as your Mistress, to bestow it upon you from time to time, but you no longer have any right to it. So, I’m going to give you a choice to see if you do know your place. You can choose now for me to take your cock into my mouth and to cum with it touching the back of my throat, and for me to swallow your cum. Or you can choose for me to spoil your orgasm. To make you come, but to give you no other stimulation. And then to have you lick up every drop of your own sperm from wherever it falls.”

Her fingers continued to stroke my cock almost imperceptibly as she gave me this choice. She was testing me. My dominant self, if he still existed, would want to thrust its cock down her throat, but I just wasn’t that person and I wanted above all to please her.

“Please Mistress,” I said, “spoil my orgasm.”

She smiled and bent to softly kiss the tip of my cock. I groaned as she stroked my cock faster and then she stopped abruptly as I started to cum. I pushed my hands hard against the top of my head as my sperm spurted onto the carpet at my feet. As my orgasm faded, she taunted me by pumping my now very sensitive cock hard to extract every drop. When she let go, without being asked, I got to my knees and started licking up my own mess, trying not to think of the many bare feet that had touched the tired hotel room carpet.

**********

We sat together at the airport, waiting for our flight home. It was clear something major had shifted in our relationship, but we chatted now more like the friends we are. We talked in detail through what had happened between us in the last twenty-four hours. She teased me about the nervous look on my face as I stood outside her hotel room with two Gin and Tonics on a tray, like a waiter, and the moment I realised that she was having me perform a slow striptease, from one of my own fantasies. She said she had realised very quickly that I was giving more of myself to her, submitting to a much greater extent, than I ever had before.

I told her how embarrassing it had felt sitting in front of her in just my underwear and a with a tie around my neck, trying to hold my stomach in, and knowing she would soon instruct me to complete my striptease. It felt incredibly intimate re-living the experience with her, telling her in detail how I had felt as she inflicted pain and humiliation on me, and how I had craved her dominance, and how I still craved her dominance.

She hinted several times on the journey back from Germany that I still had more to do to prove my devotion and obedience to her, that I would soon be properly broken and humbled, but she wasn’t specific.

She made me wait almost two weeks. She would remind me from time to time that it was coming, this humbling, this destruction of anything that might be left of my dominant impulses, but otherwise, she kept me in the dark. We went back to work and, although I was very distracted, some kind of normality returned.

**********

I should have spotted that the meeting in my diary looked odd. It was at the end of the day, when the office was otherwise deserted, and involved just me, my Mistress, and two other women with no obvious connection. The subject line was vague too, but as the senior person amongst those invited (yes, I am technically senior to my Mistress at work as she is almost twenty years younger than me), I am used to people calling random meetings looking for my guidance or direction.

My Mistress was the first to enter my office. She almost matched my 6’ 1” in her black designer high heels. She smiled at me in a way that made me instantly nervous.

Following immediately was a woman about my age, around fifty, called Cathy, who I had worked with on and off for a long time. She too was tall, slim, and elegant, but with shoulder-length dark hair. She was also smiling in a way that unnerved me.

The last to enter was a young woman of around twenty-six, called Lisa, who was relatively new to the team and the company. She was shorter than the other two, maybe 5’ 5”, with a very pretty face framed by long dark hair. Her breasts were large, and she had a considerable amount of cleavage on display. I had recently started mentoring her and she looked nervous.

We all sat down around the large wooden conference table in my office. Before she sat down, my Mistress drew the blinds to my office and locked the door.

She sat across the table and said to me, “Are you ready, Slave?”

“Is this it? Is it now?” I stammered.

“Is this it – MISTRESS,” she corrected me.

“I’m sorry, is this it, Mistress?” I repeated after her, knowing already that this was it and that somehow these other two women were part of her plan for me.

“It is it, Slave. Now, I know you will obey me,” she said, “but are you ready to really trust me? Cathy, Lisa and I have, shall I say, some shared interests. They understand what’s happening here, and it will remain our secret. Do you trust me?”

I hesitated only briefly before saying, “Yes Mistress.”

“Good, then stand up and remove your clothes,” she instructed.

I stood slowly and stepped back from the table, intent on following her order, but feeling so embarrassed. The three women watched me closely as I removed first my shoes and socks, then my trousers, followed by my shirt. I had never experienced such scrutiny. I knew not to anger my Mistress by delaying or trying to cover myself, so I quickly slipped my underpants down to my ankles. I stood up, with my hands by my side, completely naked in front of my three fully dressed colleagues. I felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable, nervous, but aroused too.

Because we were friends too, and spoke intimately a lot, my Mistress really understood my fantasies and fears, and was always quick to use that knowledge, but also to push me beyond what I felt comfortable with. So, yes, she knew it excited me to be naked when she was fully dressed, but now I was also naked in front of two fully clothed women who were almost strangers.

Cathy spoke first, addressing my Mistress, “And to think I wasn’t sure that he would strip.”

“You should have more faith in me,” said my Mistress.

My Mistress then turned to me, “Slave, you will now take orders from Mistress Cathy and Mistress Lisa, just as you take orders from me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“So, Cathy,” said my Mistress, “Feel free to put him to the test.”

Mistress Cathy smiled and addressed me directly. “Come and kneel in front of me, Slave,” she said.

I did as she said and watched as she stood, worked her tight black skirt up to her hips, and then eased her lacey black panties down to her ankles. She sat back down, skirt still high on her hips, her legs parted and pussy on display, before picking her panties up from the floor and placing them on my head, arranging them so that the gusset, already pungent with her arousal, was over my nose.

I knelt quietly, breathing her in, this act of humiliation designed to diminish me a little bit further. I felt no resistance well up inside, just acceptance. I had gone into this meeting expecting to be in charge, the decision maker, but here I was, naked and on my knees with a pair of panties on my head to emphasise my complete subservience to these three women.

Mistress Cathy then adjusted the panties on my head, so that my mouth wasn’t covered and said, “Slave, you will beg for permission to kiss my feet.”

I bent forward so my forehead touched the carpeted floor in front of her. “Please, Mistress Cathy, I am not worthy, but I beg you to let me worship your feet.”

“You definitely aren’t worthy of that privilege are you, Slave,” she said scornfully, “Not with that pathetic, little, limp cock of yours. I’m reliably informed that you can only get it up with the help of a little blue pill.”

The women laughed and I felt my face redden further under the silk of the panties, but it was true, I now needed Viagra or good physical stimulation to get properly hard.

“I’m sorry, Mistress Cathy,” I said, “I apologise for my pathetic cock.”

“That really doesn’t help, does it Slave,” she said in the same lofty tone, “Now lie on your back. Arms above your head and spread your legs.”

I did as she ordered and she stood up, standing between my legs, and looking down at me. She lifted her right foot and brought the sole of her shoe down on top of my cock, squashing it against my stomach. I groaned as she increased the pressure, really pressing down hard, my now semi-erect cock squashed flat. She then shifted her foot so that the long heel of her shoe dug into my cock and pushed down hard again. I gasped, but it didn’t occur to me to resist. I really was in a different place, now able to submit completely in a way I felt I hadn’t before.

“I hope you are embarrassed, Slave,” she said, “to offer your Mistresses such a pathetic excuse for a cock. You insult us, and because of that I’m going to lock your worthless cock in a cage.”

She walked across the room and took something from her bag. I hadn’t been told to move, so I continued to lie on the floor. She returned and positioned herself with a foot either side of my head, facing towards my feet, and then lowered herself into a very agile squat before sitting on my face. Her buttocks covered my nose and mouth making it difficult for me to suck air in.

Mistress Cathy eased the pressure a little to let me breathe, and said, “Since your cock is useless, you will use your tongue. I want to feel it inside my arse while I fit your cage.”

Still in darkness beneath her bottom, I probed with my tongue and found her musty hole, pushing past its tight entrance and entering her, tasting her. She pushed down, forcing me in further. At the same time, hands were squashing my cock painfully into the cage. My cock wasn’t rock hard, but it wasn’t small and soft either. It had to be squeezed in. Then I heard the click of a lock, and I was diminished just a little further.

I realised that when my Mistress spoke about breaking me, she wasn’t talking about one great shattering, but multiple humiliations that chipped away at my sense of self and any dominant impulses, however deeply they were buried.

I could hear the women laughing again and then one of the others lowered herself onto my caged cock, rubbing her pussy against the metal. The laughter told me it was Mistress Lisa and she must have been facing Mistress Cathy because I could hear them kissing above me.

I continued to thrust my aching tongue into Mistress Cathy’s arse, gasping in air whenever I could, and I could also feel Mistress Lisa’s wet pussy, her panties removed, rubbing against the cage and my cock inside. My cock tried to harden in response, but the cage was tight and unyielding. I had never been put in a cock cage before. Even with my Mistress, up until now my pleasure, my satisfaction, had been a factor. It had been accompanied by pain and humiliation, but it was there. Now these women were telling me that my satisfaction was irrelevant.

Mistress Cathy eventually turned so she was facing me, but quickly replaced her ass with her pussy, now very wet, which she ground against my face. Mistress Lisa was still straddling my caged cock.

“Suck me hard, Slut,” Mistress Cathy ordered, “suck my clit.”

I did this as best I could while she continued to grind against my face, my nose, mouth and chin covered in her juices, until she came loudly. She climbed off me and Mistress Lisa took her place. Mistress Cathy had had neatly trimmed pubic hair, but Mistress Lisa was completely shaven. I felt my cock twitch at this realisation, but that was all it could do.

“I’m like your Mistress,” said Mistress Lisa, “I like to squirt when I orgasm. And you, Slave, are going to open wide and swallow. I like to think of it each time as a little revenge for all the women who’ve ever had to suck cock and swallow.”

Talking dirty like this must have tipped her over the edge, because she came immediately and hard, drenching my face and filling my mouth with her sticky juices. I swallowed and she too climbed off me. The panties, still on my head, were sticky and very wet.

Then my Mistress was standing over me. “What a pathetic sight you are,” she said, “And I should have thought to cage that worthless cock of yours much earlier. Now get up.”

With this, she led me by the hand to stand with my nose pressed into the corner of my own office. I wasn’t completely sure, but I think she gave my fingers a reassuring squeeze. Perhaps to tell me that I was doing well? Facing the wall, I couldn’t see what the women were doing, but I heard more laughter. I was very aware of how my face and the panties on my head were wet and smelled of sex. 

I then felt Mistress Lisa slip her smaller hand into mine and adjust the panties on my head a little so that I could see better. She turned me around to face the others. The three women were all wearing black underwear, black stockings, black high heels and large black strap-on dicks. My Mistress was also holding a large wooden paddle, that looked long and thick.

Mistress Cathy also stepped forward and she and Mistress Lisa took my hands and led me back to the conference table, before bending me across it so that my bottom was presented to my Mistress and the paddle.

“How dominant are you feeling right now, Slave?” My Mistress asked, laughing.

“Not dominant at all, Mistress, I am your Slave.”

“That’s good to hear, but you must continue to prove it to me. This paddle is vicious, it will reduce you to tears of agony, and you must tell us how many strokes you want each of us to give you. Then, while the tears are still streaming down your face, we are going to take turns in fucking you hard up that tight little arse of yours. Which probably won’t be so tight by the time we’ve finished. And then Mistress Lisa has a little party trick she wants to share with you. It turns out she is a REAL ball-buster, and you are going to stand with your legs apart while she kicks you hard in the balls. I’ve seen her do it and she is an expert. She won’t damage you permanently, but she will leave you in a heap at her feet and begging for mercy.”

“There won’t be any sweetly blended pain and pleasure for you today, Slut, just pain and humiliation and the complete realisation that you belong to me. So, how many strokes of the paddle would you like from each of us?”

She knew this was an impossible question. To give a number too low would say I wasn’t committed, but a number too high could expose me to impossible agony. The paddle looked hefty and completely unyielding. It was going to brutally flatten my bare buttocks against its hard, shiny wood, applying pain across my entire bottom at the same time. I decided to go with a spanking cliché and what I hoped would be an acceptable compromise.

“Please Mistress, twelve each.” Even as I said it, thirty-six blows from that paddle seemed an appalling prospect. I love a sensual spanking, but real pain terrifies me.

Mistress Cathy and Mistress Lisa continued to hold my hands, keeping me in position on the table, but also pulling me forward so that I couldn’t put my feet firmly on the ground. I was effectively on tip-toe with my legs spread and the muscles in my legs stretched taut. My caged cock was pressed uncomfortably against the table.

“Are you ready for the first twelve?” My Mistress asked.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You will count each blow and thank me for it. If you forget I will repeat the blow.”

“Yes, Mistress, thank you.”

It turned out I wasn’t ready. I heard the big paddle moving through the air and then I was pushed forward by the force of the blow and a horrible pain ignited across what seemed like every inch of my bottom. I screamed in agony and immediately forgot to count the stroke. After a brief silence, my Mistress announced that the stroke would be repeated. I still had thirty-six to go and no idea how I was going to get through it.

I heard the next blow coming too and felt Mistress Cathy and Mistress Lisa grip me tightly as it struck me. I screamed again as more pain engulfed me, but stayed desperately focused on saying, “One, thank you, Mistress.”

Somehow, I stayed in position as they continued to beat me. The pain was almost overwhelming, and I felt sick. Tears were streaming down my face as I eventually blubbed, “Seven, thank you, Mistress.”

“Hold him tightly, ladies,” my Mistress said, “I’m going to give him strokes eight, nine and ten in quick succession.”

“Slave, you may thank me three times after number ten.”

I thought for a moment I might pass out or be sick. She left just enough time for me to register the blow and the wave of agony that came with it, but no time to recover. My body was held tightly in position, but otherwise, I felt limp, my legs trembling. I thanked my Mistress three times through further sobbing.

Numbers eleven and twelve followed with gaps between, but I think she eased up just a little and I was able to regain a little more control over my ragged breathing. They also gave me a short break before Mistress Cathy took over, even letting me stand up. My legs felt so weak beneath me.

And then hands were pushing me back down into position, leaving my burning backside exposed to the next set of blows.

Mistress Cathy said, “I’m going to give you six strokes on your bottom and six across the tops of your thighs, but to keep it interesting you won’t know where each blow is going to land.”

I heard her tapping the paddle against her hand and she almost giggled before saying, “To think, for you this started as just another meeting and now look at you. Stripped of your clothes and your dignity, caged, my panties on your head and your face used as a fuck toy because your cock isn’t up to it and now bent over and beaten with a big wooden paddle. Your bottom is already bruising, and you won’t be sitting down comfortably for some time. And I’m reliably told you really did have quite strong dominant tendencies. Well, not anymore! And I will remind you of that when, a little later, I spread your bruised buttocks and fuck you roughly up the arse.”

I have to admit it arouses me to be taunted and belittled by a dominant woman, but I had experienced nothing like this. This person I hardly knew was now my Mistress Cathy, who had just laid out in words the extent to which I was being taken apart and humiliated. And now she was going to add physical pain to the mental torment she had inflicted.

Her first stroke jolted me forward against the table and off my feet. I cried out again as the paddle flattened the lower part of my buttocks and the top of my thighs, including the very sensitive crease between buttock and thigh, but I remembered to count the stroke and thank her. And, I thought to myself, at least my caged cock was no longer an issue. It felt like it had shrivelled up as I was so soundly paddled.

After three blows, I was sobbing again, tears falling on the table in front of me. After six strokes my vision was blurred by tears and there was snot running from my nose. The pain was awful and now spread right across my buttocks and down my thighs. Strokes seven, eight and nine were delivered to the same area of my thighs in very quick succession and I wailed in agony. My Mistress and Mistress Lisa held me tightly in position, although I felt one of them stroke my hair softly, reassuringly.

Mistress Cathy didn’t ease up, even with her stroke number twelve, and left me a sobbing, whimpering wreck, my body limp on the conference table. I had no idea how I was going to take another twelve strokes from Mistress Lisa.

After some time, Mistress Lisa told me to get off the table and kneel in front of her. I did as she ordered. Her large breasts were hardly contained by a revealing black bra and her big strap-on dick swayed in front of me, a painful reminder that my cock was limp and caged.

“I’m going to give you another difficult choice,” Mistress Lisa said softly, “I can give you the remaining strokes or you can give me your balls. As much as I like the prospect of paddling your arse, it’s not what really turns me on. As your Mistress said, it makes me incredibly horny to kick a man hard in the balls.”

“So, you are already due to get kicked hard in the balls once, but I will trade you my twelve blows with the paddle for four hard kicks in the balls rather than one. And if you can’t take all four today, you will come to me in the future to complete the punishment and interest will be applied. Each delayed kick will earn you another kick in interest. And don’t let my gentle demeanour fool you, this is not an easy option I’m giving you.”

I was struggling to think straight, but it was hard to see beyond not having to take twelve more blows from that horrible paddle.

“So,” she asked, “your arse or your balls?”

“My balls, please, Mistress Lisa.” And she smiled wickedly as I said it.

And then all three of them were standing around me as I knelt on the floor, their strap-on cocks waving in my face.

“Time to see if you can suck cock, Slave,” said Mistress Lisa, pulling my head towards her black phallus.

I opened my mouth wide to accommodate the large black cock and she held my head as she fucked me in the mouth, each thrust making me gag.

“You need to relax your throat, Slut,” she said, “Or this will be very painful for you.”

With this she pulled me down on all fours, keeping her cock in my mouth, and allowing my Mistress to position herself, kneeling, behind me. I felt cold lube being applied to my arse and then my Mistress was forcing her cock inside me, stretching me and filling me. I now had both my mouth and arse filled with large strap-on cocks.

Mistress Cathy then started to fondle my caged cock and balls, saying, “What a lovely little cock-sucker you are! Don’t you wish you had a cock as long, thick and hard as these, and not a pathetic, limp cock only fit to be caged?”

“Yes, Mistress Cathy,” I mumbled, my mouth very full.

My cock did respond to her caresses, but again it was held uncomfortably in check.

They took it in turns fucking me and soon I was being fucked in the arse by one with my face buried in the pussy of another. And there was almost always a hand teasing my caged cock. They changed positions so many times that I almost didn’t know who was fucking me and who I was pleasuring. My cock ached from the continual fruitless stimulation and my arse was sore from the constant penetration, thrusting and stretching.

After each of them had orgasmed at least once, they stopped, leaving me in a heap on the floor, aching and with their sex juices smeared across my body; although thankfully someone had removed the damp panties from my head.

After a short break, my Mistress said to me, “You have done well, Slave, but you have a final debt to pay. You owe Mistress Lisa your balls and with them, I’m confident she will take the last of your manhood with them. Stand up.”

I did as I was told, but on already unsteady legs. My Mistress and Mistress Cathy stood either side of me, I think ready to support me. Mistress Lisa stood in front of me, now completely naked, her large breasts swaying naturally. I didn’t know whether to be relieved that she had bare feet.

“Get on your knees, Slave,” Mistress Lisa, ordered, “I am going to give you the privilege of worshiping the feet that are about to kick you in the balls.”

I dropped to my knees again and began to lick and kiss every inch of her bare feet. Her feet actually seemed quite small and delicate and she had beautifully painted red toes that I sucked on hungrily. My cock stirred again in its prison and I groaned.

Mistress Lisa heard me and laughed, “Oh, so you like that, Slave?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Well, we’ll see if you like my feet quite as much in a few minutes! Now, time to remove your cage.”

Mistress Cathy came forward and unlocked the cage, releasing my cock. Then she and my Mistress helped me to my feet.

“Spread your legs,” Mistress Lisa told me, “And try to breathe through the pain.”

She positioned herself in front of me, then lifted her right knee, balancing easily on her left leg, before pushing the lower half of her right leg upwards hard, so that the top of her foot smashed into the underside of my balls. It happened so quickly and I slumped forward as a sickening pain engulfed my balls. I tried but failed to breathe through it and would have collapsed to the floor if the other two women hadn’t held me upright. I groaned, my arms held firmly so that I couldn’t massage any of the pain away.

“This time,” Mistress Lisa said, “I’m going to use a fully extended leg and it will hurt more. You may decide that, given everything else you’ve been through today, you want to owe me the other two, plus of course the interest. So, that would be another four in total.”

This time she swung her entire right leg up, like she was about to punt a football, and I almost blacked out before, as predicted, collapsing in a sobbing, whimpering heap at her feet, clutching my abused balls.

Part of me desperately wanted to get to my feet. I hated the idea of ending this with a painful debt to be paid in the future, my exhausted brain failing to recognise at the time that these women owned me now and that there would always be pain and humiliation waiting for me.

I scrambled slowly and painfully to my feet, with the help of the other two women, and positioned myself for her third kick.

“Are you sure? she asked gently.

“Yes, Mistress, my balls belong to you.”

“Your balls and broken manhood belong to me, to the three of us, wouldn’t you agree, Slave?

“Yes, Mistress.”

And with that, she kicked me even harder in the balls and I slumped to the floor again, knowing immediately this time that getting up for the fourth kick was beyond me.

The three women stood over me, looking down, and my Mistress said, “Now you are broken, now you have earned the right to be my Slave, a Slave that I will happily lend to these lovely ladies whenever they ask. And, of course, you already have a new debt to pay to Mistress Lisa of two kicks to your balls, although I think, by way of a thank you, I will gift you to her for a weekend and let her kick you in the balls as many times as she sees fit. I know too that Mistress Cathy would like to see you experience a much longer period in her chastity cage.”

Yes, Mistress, thank you, Mistress,” I groaned softly.

**********