The Travelogue Of Katia Thornwood — Part 4

Pub Street was quite the sight. Compared to the smaller roads outside the city, this one roared with crowds of tourists, partying the night away. I’d enjoyed a glass of wine and some dinner with the group, and some of them asked after Ben. I offered the explanation that perhaps he had seen a little too much sun earlier, though Kim was watching me with some suspicion.

Two hours in, I broke off from the group — who were going on a pub crawl until the wee small hours. My thoughts were getting back to the captive in the bathroom. I hailed a tuk tuk via the tourist goods store, where I hastily purchased shaving foam and a razor.

I was, in truth, a little worried about Ben. He had caught rather a lot of sun earlier and though he was young and fit, he was still relatively inexperienced and would be thirsty by now, and possibly dizzy from limited circulation in his position. These are the sorts of practicalities one has to consider as a Mistress. People seem to think its all whips and chains and screaming for Mommy, but there’s a lot more too it than that. Aftercare is just as important as punishment. Maybe more. I imagined if nothing bad had transpired in the bathroom in this last little while, Ben would be a little raw from this experience, to say the least.

Keys in the lock. Inside, I throw down my bag and head to the bathroom.

No corpse. Good.

Ben is exactly how I left him, except he is sleeping. The floor in front of him is wet with drool, a glaze of it down his legs and the front of his shirt too. He doesn’t stir when I fetch the shaving cream and razor, or when I fill up a bowl with hot water from the tap in the shower next to him.

I fetch two scarves next, laying them out with the shaving things beside my bed. When I fetch the cock cage, I drop the keys. They clang to the floor and Ben stirs with a snort.

“Mmmgh? MMRGHHH! MMMRGHH!”

“On my way.”

I walk over, undo the ring gag and release it from his unclenching teeth. Garlands of beaded drool cascade from either side of his mouth to the leather, splashing down with the rest as I toss the gag to the side.

“How long have I been here? You left me! Uncuff me! I want to leave! You’re crazy! UNCUFF ME NOW!”

The handcuffs clinked loudly against the metal rail as he tried to flail his hands.

“Calm down Ben. Someone will hear.”

“I want someone to hear! You’re crazy! A devil! Uncuff me!”

Disorientated, his head swung in all directions: my red panties still hanging over his eyes. I gently pulled them off.

“I’m sorry Ben, I couldn’t take you seriously wearing those on your head. Now… you were upset?”

I knew then that I had pushed him too far. Rookie mistake. I’d have to handle this carefully. Obviously I can’t do my job without the permission of my subs. That said, after all of this work, I was reluctant to let him go that easily.

I took the keys out of my bra and dangled them in front of his red face. So much for submission — my slave looked like he wanted to bite me, and not in a good way.

“Ben. You are angry and a little afraid, I understand.”

I crouched down in front of him, stroking the side of his head and angling my breasts within his sight line. He gazed reflexively down at them for a moment, then fixed me with a glare.

“That… that wont work… uncuff me now. Now Katia! I’m not joking!”

I put the keys down in front of him. He wiggled, but of course — what could he really do? He could only kneel helplessly as I leaned forward as if to whisper in his ear, but instead, traced my tongue down the soft, sunburned skin at the side of his neck.

“You taste good when you’re angry, Ben.”

“Don’t… don’t do that. Uncuff me. Right now. RIGHT NOW! You’re not a nice woman!”

I stopped, picked up the keys and undid his cuffs. His arms dropped down simultaneously and he turned his wrists and flicked his hands before placing them stroppily to the floor in a clumsy attempt to stand. His legs and arms, with their previously restricted blood flow, refused to obey his brain and he fell forward into my waiting arms. There, I cradled his head in my lap, his nose against my pubic bone as I stroked his hair. He sighed, relaxing a little.

“I never said I was nice, Ben. I said I could teach you. A few days ago you wanted to be taught. You wanted to please me. But if that has changed… this path isn’t for everyone. Perhaps you are not as strong as I judged you to be. There’s no shame in being weak, Ben…”

“I’m not weak!”

Ah. Straight in the ego.

“I imagine you’re a pretty lousy fuck too, and a mediocre human being at best. That’s ok though, Ben. There’s a validity to that too. You’d be in the majority.”

Ben gave me a look as though he wanted to lunge at me, but did nothing. I yawned, released him, leaving him glaring forward as I turned and began to walk away.

Behind me, Ben was having a bit of a tantrum. Quite adorably, he’d reverted back to the speaking ability of a toddler too.

“I… you… I… you…YOU…”

“I don’t have time for games, Ben. Shit or get off the pot. In or out.”

I stopped in the door frame, unfastened the clasp on the back of my dress and let it slide down my body to the floor. The anger in Ben’s eyes was dimming, replaced by that familiar flicker of arousal as he ran his eyes along my bare skin. I had won and he had lost.

“If you’re out — your clothes are in the other room where you left them. Close the door on your way out.”

I walked out, kicking off my heels in front of the bed, then lying down on the cool sheets. The ceiling fan clacked around on its circuit, its breeze cooling my belly and curling down my legs.

Ben didn’t come out right away. When he did, he lingered in the bathroom doorway. Apparently his circulation was all back to normal now. He was trying to downplay a certain increase of blood flow downstairs with my bath towel.

“I’m tired, Ben. Towel goes back in the bathroom. Good night.”

I closed my eyes. No footsteps. He was still there.

“Uh… Katia? Mistress?”

I opened one eye sleepily.

“Mmm?”

“I uh… I want to apologize…”

“Mmm Hmm.”

I closed my eyes again.

“I do want you to teach me, Mistress. I just… I wasn’t comfortable. I thought you were making fun of me. Laughing at me.”

I sat up with a sigh, looking at this penitent slave of mine, standing there pathetically with his towel and hungrily observing my state of undress.

“Of course I was, Ben. You are very laughable.”

Ben frowned. I tested the water in the shaving bowl with my fingers. Tepid now. I was feeling the effects of the wine and heat earlier now, and on a different night, I could have easily slept. But the thought of Ben and his boner, standing on the threshold of truly beginning this process, was motivation enough to stay awake.

“Life is hard if you take yourself so seriously, Ben. I wont be able to teach you either. So if you truly mean what you say, then you are going to have to learn to approach this process with a sense of play. Reverence and obedience too, but a sense of play is the most important thing for working with me. You understand?”

Ben nodded, considering. I walked over to him, throwing my arms over his shoulders and pressing my body into his. His erection poked me in the belly, so I pushed it down hard, then straddled it. Ben gasped.

“So Ben,” I whispered, “Do you want to play… with me?”

He drove his erection deeper into my thighs. As his breath came faster,. I could feel him stiffen through the fabric of the towel.

“Yes Mistress. Yes!”

I bit his neck, hard. His fingers released their grip on the towel as he moaned, and it slid down to the ground with a dull thud.

“Good, then let’s begin.”

*

I led him into the shower, turning on the warm jets and throwing the shower at over the drool that had amassed on the tiles earlier.

“Stand. Do not move. Do not look at me — and as I mentioned earlier, do not cum.”

“I wont, Mistress!”

I reached for the soap, lathering it up in my hands. The ‘slupslupslup’ of it foaming in my palms distinctly similar sounding to other things that I’m sure Ben was thinking about at that very moment.

With a rich lather going, I began to wash him, rubbing his shoulders first. Lathering more, then moving in circles over his pecs, feeling both nipples stand stiffly to attention with every movement of my fingers. Ben moaned, thrusting his hips forward. I stopped.

“No. No thrusting.”

“I’m sorry Mistress, I cant help it! I cant take this… much longer…”

I grabbed him hard by the balls and squeezed. He flinched and cried out. I stared coldly into his terrified eyes.

“You can and you will, Ben.”

“Y…yes Mistress.”

Slupslupslup. Slupslupslupslup.

I worked his sides, around his belly button, above his cock, then slid my hands around his hips to the back, digging nails into both of his bare ass cheeks.

“Mistress… I’m going to…!”

I moved out of the way to avoid the warm jet of cum. Ben moaned incoherently as I hurriedly stepped out of the shower and dried myself off. In a few moments, he had stopped speaking in tongues and attempted to apologize.

“You could have got me in the eye with that!”

“I’m sorry, Mistress! I’m really sorry!”

“I’m going to have to punish you.”

“I’ll do anything, Mistress.”

“Anything?”

“Anything. Yes Mistress.”

I threw him the towel.

“Alright. Dry yourself. Then get on the bed. On all fours.”

Ben dried himself quickly, then raced to the bed, his flaccid cock bouncing pathetically in a crumple of foreskin.

I walked over to my toy bag, pulled out the strap on with its terrifying red appendage and fastened it to my waist. Hearing the jingle of buckles from where he was crouched on all fours, back towards me, his head reeled around and his eyes widened.

“No… n… no Mistress. Not that. It’s… it’s so big…”

I shot him a wicked smile, bouncing up and down on my toes, phallus dancing in its leather harness.

“It is big, isn’t it? Can you just imagine something this big driving into that little virgin ass of yours?”

Ben looked like he was going to cry. He went to sit up.

“Stay! All fours!”

Ben bit his lip and assumed the position.

“I’m not even sure if it would fit. Something this size… that would take a lot of lube… and even then…. I’m just not sure. I guess it would be fun to find out.”

I walked teasingly up to him, with my waist high object of terror.

“Please Mistress. Anything… but that. Spank me! Hard! As many times as you like! All night even! I don’t mind! I WANT TO BE SPANKED… PLEASE!”

I gave him a sharp slap.

“I bet you do. But I think you enjoy it too much, and I don’t have the time or inclination to spank you all night.”

“Mistress…”

“Settle down. I was only going to shave you.”

“But the…”

“I happen to like wearing a strap-on, Ben. Now, no more questions. Hands forward, grasp the frame.”

Ben did as I asked and I secured both wrists to the bed frame with silk. I noticed with amusement that at no time during this process did Ben lose his focus on the strap-on.

“Ben, I do believe you’re a bit more keen to enjoy my toy than you’re letting on. You can barely take your eyes off it! I can… if you’d like that…”

I reached for the bottle of lube. Ben shook his head wildly.

“No? OK. Suit yourself.”

I splashed water on his crease, lathered him up and began to shave the coarse hairs away. I rested the strap-on between his tensed thighs, letting it bounce softly against his balls as I ran the razor down his cheek. Ben trembled: overwhelmed with sensations.

“You might want to stay still, Ben. That is, if you don’t want to lose a testicle. I would imagine being fucked in the ass would hurt a lot less than that.”

Ben complied and I continued my work. I felt him tense as I pulled his cheeks apart with one hand, to drive the slippery mix of shaving foam and water into his crease, rubbing against his anus with a lubricated thumb and massaging his balls with the strap on as I rocked my hips gently backwards and forward behind him.

In a few moments, Ben’s ass was shorn smooth.

“You know why I am shaving you, Ben?”

“No Mistress.”

“Some people say, without hair, your skin is a lot more sensitive to sensations. I don’t know. What do you think…?”

I rinsed him off and rose up on my knees, teasing his perineum with the tip of the strap-on. He gasped and pushed himself backwards onto it, not allowing it to penetrate, lingering just on the edge of it. His panting rough and fast now.

I hopped off the bed, he looked around at me, hopefully. Hungrily.

“That’s enough for one night, Ben. I really need some sleep. Take the razor and the cream — you can deal with the rest of it.”

I untied his wrists. He didn’t move. He was still staring at the strap-on and goodness if that boy wasn’t excited all over again. He collapsed to lay face down on the bed and started to grind on it.

“Ben! No! Bad! Down. That stops right now.”

I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head up to get him to look at me. Ben gazed helplessly into my eyes. In those almost black irises, I saw a mix of arousal and terror about what had just aroused him. With incredible need and no permission to cum, he looked utterly torn, pleading with his eyes for something I was not going to give him… at least not tonight.

“Go home, Ben. Take a cold shower. I’m tired.”

Ben got slowly up, then started walking towards the bathroom.

“Not my shower. Yours! Go!”

“Uh… yes Mistress.”

Ben stumbled back to the wall, then composed himself and darted to the pile of clothes he had shed earlier, lifting up his pants.

“Not here, Ben. Take it to your room.”

“But…”

“Ben…”

“Uh, yes Mistress!”

Ben picked up the clothes pile, covering his excitement as best he could, and fled out into the night. I chuckled as I closed the door and curtains, catching a glimpse of this naked, terrified slave of mine running off down the dirt path under the moonlight.

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