Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Title: Alisa's Boy Author: maymay <bitetheappleback@gmail.com> Date Published: January 27th, 2009 Original Publication: http://maybemaimed.com/playground/htporn/AlisasBoy/ Dedication: ASSTR Story Codes: MF, Fdom, bd, sm, stroke, td, od !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !! WARNING - ADULTS ONLY !! !! !! !! This story contains sexually explicit !! !! depictions of BDSM activities. If it is not !! !! legally permitted in your area for you to !! !! read such material due to your age or any !! !! other reason, you should stop reading now. !! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution License, accessible at the following web site: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5/ You may redistribute and modify this story freely under the condition that this prologue until following the first line of asterisks remains intact and unchanged with the exception of the ASSTR Story Code values. For more information on ASSTR Story Codes, see /files/FAQs_and_Information/Codes_for_Authors.txt /files/FAQs_and_Information/Codes_for_Readers.txt *************************************************************************** Foreword: This short story was originally inspired by and then written for a friend of mine. It's got the beginnings of a self-contained plot line but can also easily be extended or modified. Please feel free to email me your comments and suggestions. I'd welcome additions to the story as well as mail just to let me know what you thought. I hope you enjoy it, "maymay" <bitetheappleback@gmail.com> *************************************************************************** Ever since I met Alisa, I stop at the corner convenience store every day and I buy a lottery ticket on my way to work. Every time, the clerk behind the counter smiles at me and wishes me luck. "Come back even if you get lucky, mister, y'hear?" he tells me. I've never won anything big, but I always politely smile back even though he has no idea what's going through my mind. When I get to work, I scratch out my lottery number picks, I put the ticket inside of an envelope, I write my name on the back, and I address it to Alisa. After work, I'll stop by her place and slip the envelope under the door to her apartment. I always hope she's home and will invite me in, but she's a busy girl with a social life I can barely follow despite my best efforts and, as I've learned the hard way over the years, I'm usually just not that lucky. Sometimes, however, good fortune smiles upon me. The night I want to tell you about was one of those nights. As I usually do, when I slipped the envelope under Alisa's apartment door that night, I stood there, waiting, listening for footsteps. Most of the time I wait a good two or three minutes hoping she's home and that she'll open the door. When she is home, my pulse quickens as I hear her approach and pick up the envelope. I'm not allowed to knock (slipping the envelope under her door is the equivalent of a knock anyway) so I just listen. I could hear the tearing sound of the envelope being opened. I eyed the door-knocker, its presence a sadistic temptation. I could do nothing but hope she was feeling playful and that she'd let me enter. Sure enough, when she opened the door, there I stood on the other side. I couldn't help to keep from smiling as she greeted me. "Hi there," she said, then paused momentarily before addressing me, "boything." Even though I couldn't help my smile, I was at least well-trained enough to recognize her intent so I lowered my gaze immediately. "Hi, ma'am," I responded demurely. "Come inside and make me tea. I also have chocolates in the refrigerator and I want them served to me tonight." "Yes, ma'am!" I said excitedly, as though I were a puppy being given a treat. "That's my boything," she said as she circled her finger around the metal ring attached to my steel collar and pulled me towards her. I stepped into her apartment and leaned forward to let her kiss me, my body melting over her lips. "Do you have anything you need to do tonight, or tomorrow morning? How late can you stay?" "I can stay all night if you'll have me, ma'am," I replied. She raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm sure," I assured her in the tone we use to speak with one another as equals. "Well, in that case, if you're good tonight, maybe we'll have time to do something special." She grinned as my eyes widened and pulled me in for another kiss before I could say anything. When her lips released mine she grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me to my knees. Only then did she close the door behind me. As she walked back into her apartment I took off my shoulder bag and placed it neatly on the floor in her foyer, by the door to the closet. Then I did the same with my shoes and my socks and the rest of my clothing. When I was done, all I was wearing were the things I couldn't remove on my own; my steel collar, my silver chain bracelets and anklets, and my chastity tube. I heard the television in the living room power on as I stood and walked towards Alisa's kitchen to prepare her tea and chocolates. After I rinsed a teacup and put the kettle on, I took the chocolates out to her. Alisa is, well, she's a very particular sort of lady, detail oriented and observant. That means she expects at least a similarly detail oriented level of service from her indentured property. In my first few weeks of servitude, she taught me how she liked her tea. Later, she taught me how to kneel. As the months wore on, she put me through more rigorous paces. I remember once, near the end of my first year, she instructed me to kneel by her coffee table and remain motionless while holding a tray of refreshments as she hosted a soiree for her friends. Early in the trial she inserted her favorite large, remote-controlled anal probe into me, which only aggravated the discomfort in my muscles and the sexual frustration that had been incessantly building for the past months. By the end of the night my whole body ached. Knowing this, while I served her that night I held the plate of her chocolates delicately at its sides with both my hands. The ceramic dish rested on my palms and my thumbs never touched its surface. I had attentively arranged the chocolates in a spiral with a small sprig of mint in the center. "Every aspect of your presentation reflects on me, slave boy," she had once said to me, "so you'd better learn to always present yourself well." I learned, also, that what she termed my "presentation" meant more than just the way I looked and what I wore, but extended to mean the way I spoke and moved as well. Indeed, my presentation seemed to cover every aspect of my behavior, right down to my very thoughts and feelings. For each of these things, Alisa always had some kind of training regime for me, each remarkably simple and easy to do, and yet at times frighteningly effective. At first, it surprised me that we spoke regularly about these assignments, but later""maybe too late""I realized that our conversations were actually fuel for further training of the same sort. Before I knew it, her influence reached into my mind and her control over my reactions to the things she did to me grew and grew. This constant training made her satisfaction with my presentation continually and incrementally improve. That night, I knelt to one side of Alisa, facing her, resting my ass on the soles of my feet, my knees spread wide apart. I extended my arms at a forty-five degree angle away from my body so that the plate was within her reach, and I lowered my head, focusing my eyes on the pile of chocolates. I felt Alisa's hand lazily pat my head as she watched the TV, and then I saw it take a piece of chocolate from the plate. Neither of us said a word. Eventually the kettle whistled at us from the kitchen. Obediently, I placed her chocolates on the coffee table in front of her so I could go fetch her tea. As gracefully as I could manage it, I closed my knees, shifted my weight backwards and lifted myself to my feet. I fetched her tea and returned with it resting on a hot-plate in one hand, a teaspoon beside the teacup, and the teapot in the other. As I did before, I kneeled before her and presented her with the drink. After a few moments she took it from me, and when she did I placed the hot-plate on the coffee table and put the teapot on top of it. Then I picked up her plate of chocolates again and returned to my original position. I had served her in this way many times before, so by that night I was accustomed to becoming invisible for lengths of time. Nevertheless, my service to her was still not easy for me and while she rested lazily on her couch I fought to keep my body still and my mind calm. What might the "special thing" she mentioned earlier be? I thought to myself. That one thought alone spawned a hundred fantasies. For years now, I had been constantly lusting with sexual need. My skin itched for sensual caresses and my muscles ached for orgasmic contraction. Most of all, my penis dripped a slight but constant flow of precum like a perverted faucet from the slit in my chastity tube. In all the years I'd known Alisa, I'd been granted the pleasure of my own orgasm literally a handful of times. They were utterly mind-blowing experiences, which she had sewn into my memory with the precision of a surgeon so she could keep me craving the next one with the memory of the last one""and she did ensure I was always craving. Whenever I'd tell her about the ever-present pounding of my own arousal, how the buzz of sexual frustration never faded far away, she'd just smile at me and say, "That's how I like you." It took a little over half a year for me to fully realize what those five simple words really meant. I sobbed uncontrollably on the night I finally did realize it, thrashing against my bonds and begging for an orgasm as genuinely as I have ever begged for anything in my life while she tormented me by rhythmically thrusting one of her vibrators into my ass over, and over, and over again. I don't beg for orgasms anymore, and I've since even stopped begging for the milkings with the vibrator, though I used to after I gave up asking for orgasms. These days I just beg for the negligible relief of slightly sating the feeling of urgency driven by prostate's occasional need to be emptied, and instead of screaming "please" when she gives me any stimulation at all, I scream "thank you." That's why I was jolted out of my reverie when Alisa stood up and addressed me directly so early in the evening. "What a good boy you are, so obedient tonight. I want you to come bend over the arms of the couch here," she patted the spot on the couch as she spoke, "and present your ass to me. I'll be right back." With that, she turned off the television and disappeared into her bedroom. My ass.... Is this the special thing? I thought, and I'll admit I hoped as I always did that what she would bring from her bedroom was the milking vibrator. I gracefully stood, carefully placed what remained of her plate of chocolates beside the teapot on the coffee table, and then crossed the short distance to the other side of the couch. By the time Alisa returned I was waiting obediently with my ass in the air and my head resting upon the cushion on the couch for her. "Mm," she purred. "Don't you look lovely like that?" I guessed her question was rhetorical, although I enjoyed hearing her thoughts. "Spread your legs wider for me. Good boy. Put your palms down on the cushion here," she said, pulling my hands by my wrists to the spot she wanted me to touch. "Now stay like that. Stay still." The position had me arching my back, stretched only slightly beyond what was comfortable. Alisa took a backwards step away from me and paused for a moment. My breath caught in my throat. I waited, silent and motionless. I heard Alisa chuckle to herself quietly, no doubt aware of the cauldron of excitement and anxiety her measured delay churned in my belly. I couldn't see her walking behind me, but somehow I still felt keenly aware of her exact position near my exposed ass. When her hand caressed my buttocks I shivered and tried to muffle an involuntary whimper. "Sh," she whispered at me as she stroked my ass again, eliciting another shiver and raising goosebumps that raced down my thighs and up my torso. She traced the trail of goosebumps with a fingertip. "Shhh, boything. Stay." "Yes, ma'am," I responded with a barely audible breath. Alisa withdrew her touch and again I held my breath. I didn't know what was about to happen to me, but I already knew that I both wanted and didn't want it to happen. Please, I thought to myself, and tried to convey my thoughts in my stillness, take me as you will. Dominate me. I'm yours. The first strike was sudden, heavy, calculated, and forced a groan to escape my lips when the thick paddle hit me squarely on my ass. "Sh!" Alisa insisted as she struck me a second time. This time I was silent. Alisa struck me again, harder. I winced and reflexively clenched the muscles in my legs and arms, but again I was silent. She swung the paddle again and again in heavy, planned spanks. Again and again my muscles clenched as the instrument landed and the force rocked my body back and forth on the couch's armrest. It hurt, but it was bearable. Then Alisa changed her pace. She stepped even farther to one side of my body and aimed her next blow at my left ass cheek. The strike was softer, but was followed immediately by a second, then a third, a fourth, a fifth. The paddle's heavy wood kept landing on my ass cheek one after the other and soon I started to bite my lip to keep myself quiet. My whole body began to flush with heat as my pulse sped. I began to sweat a little, my palms felt clammy and sticky on the fabric of her couch, my ass cheek blushed bright pink, and my knees began quivering under her attentions. Her swings didn't let up, so I shut my eyes tightly and began to breath in time with the motion of her paddle. As another spank hit me, I exhaled, and as she retracted it in preparation for the next, I inhaled again. Soon I knew my breath was clearly audible because I felt Alisa's hand resting on the small of my back while she continued to paddle me. I could feel the weight of her arm pressing my waist into the armrest. Now I exhaled when she struck me but as she quickened the blows I barely had the chance to inhale before the paddle landed again. By now my ass was clearly two-toned and glowed a bright red on the left and a pale vanilla cream white on the right. Finally Alisa lifted her hand from my back and stopped to take a moment's rest. I slumped slightly, sighed deeply. I could hear her do the same from her efforts. My reprieve wasn't long-lived, however, because an instant later she had switched positions and her hand returned to my lower back. An instant after that, the paddle struck my other ass cheek. I lifted my foot in the air and jerked aside in pain and surprise. "Stay, boy!" Alisa's command came immediately, so I obediently set my foot back in its place. Alisa repeated the treatment she had given my left ass cheek on my right. Not half way through, I began to pant and groan and was quickly losing the ability to contain myself. She struck my ass with both the breadth of the paddle and with its tip. Eventually my eyes began to water and I was biting my bottom lip again, this time hard enough that I was hurting myself. Finally, she took another small break that gave me a chance to catch my breath. Alisa leaned over my bent form, pressing her hips onto my bottom as she slowly crawled up my body to my ear. "You," she whispered, almost stroking my earlobe with her tongue as she said it, "are so beautiful when you're in pain." I winced at her words, simultaneously loving and hating the compliment, and had tears welling up in the corners of my wrenched eyes. I took a moment to collect my breath, and then immediately spent it all saying, "Yes, ma'am...." "Mm," she purred again. "Stay." I gasped at her command and my eyes flew wide. No, please! they silently pleaded to her. Please, I don't want any more of this. Alisa smiled knowingly at me and kissed my forehead before straightening herself. She caressed my back and ass again, feeling the heat radiate from my skin and poking at the bruises on my ass and the backs of my thighs that were beginning to surface. "So pretty," she said to herself when she was standing behind me again. I turned my head to look at her and whimpered loudly, still pleading at her with my eyes. "Be quiet," she reminded me. I plunged my head into the cushions of the couch and shook it vigorously, but I knew nothing I could do would dissuade her intentions, and in truth I wasn't really trying to dissuade her anyway. She resumed paddling me, the spanks heavy and calculated again. I pushed my face further into the cushion and then twisted the inanimate thing in my fists to stifle groan after groan as best I could. The tip of the paddle seared my swelling thighs and the body of the thing pounded the tender meat of my ass. None of those blows were as difficult to withstand as the explosions of pain when Alisa struck my bruises with the paddle's edge, however. Those strikes were unrestrained sadism, and I jerked wildly underneath her at the first one. At the second, I pounded my fists into the couch and stamped my foot. The third forced my mouth open to scream into the furniture, as did the fourth, which also nearly sent me to the floor. When I lifted my head from the pillow I saw the salty stains of my tears. I turned to look at Alisa and saw her lovingly smile back at me. She turned the paddle over in her hands once and nodded. I turned back to the furniture, trying to relax the clenched muscles in my legs and ass. When the next spank came, I was surprised at its lack of force. It had been softer than the others and that caught me off guard. The one after that was the same, and struck hardest directly between my ass cheeks, on my perineum. My genitals swung forward from the blow and I inhaled sharply from the unexpected hint of pleasure mingling with the pain. Alisa waited only a moment for my balls to swing forward once more and then quickly paddled my sweet spot again. The paddling still hurt, but now there was a distinct, faint pleasure in the blow. Alisa soon had me moaning louder as she continued to paddle me there, soft at first and then growing harder as she had done before. At first I grimaced at the pain, but somehow it became the faint thread of pleasure that had me moaning. My buttocks shone a continually deepening shade of red, but now her strokes were clearly designed to tease me rather than beat me. They were targeted for the precipice of my perineum, where the force from the impact reverberated into my body and shook my prostate. It made me want more. I turned my head and was now resting my cheek on the cushion, my mouth wide open and taking in long, deep gasps at her blows. My ass rocked in time with the paddling, my hips almost voluntarily taking up the rhythm as well. I could hear her breath harder as her tiring arms fought her excitement, fed by my own increasingly obscene display. Finally she paused for a while. It took me a moment to realize my hips hadn't stopped their tiny thrusting motions and suddenly, feeling very embarrassed, I froze. "Aw," she said, "are you done?" I knew she wanted to hear me ask for it. She gets off on how far I'd gone; the paddling over my perineum was pleasurable and gave me enough pleasure to beg for it even though it came with the pain. Her fingertips began dancing over my inner thighs as she taunted me. When they made their way to my testicles I whimpered loudly. "You don't sound done," she teased me. I shook my head. "No, ma'am." I began slowly, "I...please...I...." "You...?" "It...it feels good," I said at last. She grinned at me. "This does?" she asked as she delivered a painful spank to a bruise on my thigh. "Ah! No!" I cried. Then she spanked my sweet spot again. "This?" The pleasure and the pain together made me close my eyes again. "Yes!" I almost sobbed the words. "Oh, please yes...." "Please what?" she prompted me. I took a moment to collect my words. "Please paddle me like that some more, ma'am." "Doesn't it hurt?" Alisa asked, even though I'm sure she knew the answer anyway. "Yes...but that's part of why I still want it," I freely confessed. Alisa smiled widely and spanked my ass once with her free hand just to hear me groan again. "I love it when you ask me to hurt you!" Gleefully, Alisa continued to paddle me. I was moaning at each blow. Eventually a long trail of precum, which had oozed from the end of my penis and had collected at the tip of my chastity tube, dripped to my thigh when one of the spanks shoved my genitals into motion. The precum stuck at an angle between my cock and my leg. Naturally, Alisa made a point of mentioning this to me. "Yes, ma'am," I replied. "Thank you so much for making me drip more!" I gasped between spanks. When Alisa was done, no doubt getting tired, she put the paddle down and sat down on the couch in front of me. She pulled me by my collar up over the armrest and onto the couch with her, flipped me onto my back and pounced on top of me. I yelped as her body pushed my bottom against the frame of the furniture but she instantly silenced me with a kiss. Squirming, I wrapped my arms around her and did my best to keep up with her kisses. "My poor boything," she cooed, wiping a few remaining drops of tears from my face. "Tonight I'll let you sleep in bed with me," she declared with a grin. "Really...?" I asked. "Really," she said as she kissed me again. "Besides, you've got me all hot and bothered now and I expect you to do something about that for me." "Yes, ma'am!" I said, once again as excited as a puppy. Alisa took the ring of my collar in her hand and stood up. "Close your eyes and come here," she told me as she began to pull me off the couch. Ever obedient, I closed my eyes and blindly followed her. Slowly, with Alisa guiding my steps, we moved from the living room to what I could sense was her bedroom. Just being there had my cock throbbing even more insistently in its cage. I felt the ring of my collar drop to my collarbone as Alisa let go of it. "Stay," she said. A moment later I heard the rattling sound of chains and felt cold metal slide up my stomach. Alisa yanked at my collar and I heard chain clinking against the ring of metal around my neck. Then I heard the soft click of a padlock and knew she had locked me to the long chain attached to her bed. "You're going to spend tonight pleasing me very well," Alisa instructed me in a whisper. "You're not to leave your new post until I let you. This chain will let you reach the toilet, should you need it tonight, but you will be very sorry if you leave this room for any other reason, understand?" I nodded a silent acknowledgement. "And one more thing," Alisa said. "Keep your eyes closed. Stay." I nodded again, wondering where I might be able to go anyway, chained as I was. I heard Alisa step away and then quickly return. She placed a pair of earbuds in my ears. Then she began to wrap my head with bondage tape so that my eyes were covered and the tape pressed the earbuds firmly into my ears. "I want you totally focused on me tonight," Alisa said. "Repeat after me: "~I am owned.'" "I am owned," I said. After I said it, the earbuds sputtered to life with the faint sound of static noise. ""~I exist to pleasure my owner,'" Alisa continued. "I exist to pleasure my owner," I recited. The static noise grew louder after I said this. Alisa was turning up the volume. ""~I obey commands as they are given, however they are given.'" "I obey commands as they are given, however they are given." Again, the volume of the noise became louder. Alisa continued to deliver phrases for me to recite, but it was becoming hard to hear her. ""~My pleasure...through...owner's pleasure,'" she said next. "My pleasure is through my owner's pleasure...?" I guessed aloud. I could barely hear her next phrase. ""~...obliged...anyone...demands....'" "I...uh," I wasn't sure what to say. "I will be obliged to do whatever anyone demands of me?" I tried to anticipate what was to come but couldn't. After an anxious few moments, I felt Alisa's hands on my shoulders pushing me to the floor. I kneeled as I was taught to do, and waited some more. I'm not sure how long I waited there kneeling, but it felt like a while. Thinking back on it now, I suspect Alisa was readying herself for bed, though I can't be certain since I couldn't hear what she was doing. Eventually, I felt a tug on my chain leash pulling me up. I followed it up onto her large bed. My hand brushed a leg and I momentarily paused, but the tugging on the chain was insistent so I continued to crawl towards it. Then I felt a small hand grab a handful of my hair. It pushed my face downwards, and my mouth felt a soft mound of flesh and prickly hair. I smelled the wetness of sex in the air and felt my penis futilely stiffen yet again. I extended my tongue and buried my face between her legs. My only regret from that night is that I couldn't hear her pleasure.