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From: np98rb@mail.telepac.pt (Christine & David Stevenson)
Subject: The Perfect Lover - part one
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                       The Perfect Lover.

http://www.mschristine.com/books.html
mailto: books@mschristine.com
Copyright: 1986 thru 1997. Christine Stevenson.


"Strip off and come here," the voice was hard and cold, it
brooked no disobedience. David obeyed and stood in front of her.
He was, as always, fascinated by her scantily clad body. Her
nipples visible through the negligee and fine lacy bra. He
realised why she wanted him naked, but in the circumstances did
not know whether this was to be one of those rare occasions when
he would be glad. Perhaps, as usual, it would involve more pain
than pleasure.

The woman took hold of the strap around his penis and tugged him
closer. It hurt. And it was frightening to feel so much at her
mercy. She was reclining on a couch, with a goblet of wine beside
her. Her eyes seemed a little unfocused. She was smoking
something strange. David experienced pangs of dread . . . yet a
strange undercurrent of excitement.

Then a key went into the padlock that connected the end of his
penis to the steel ring that was permanently behind his balls.
There was a click . . . and the strap opened and fell away. The
relief was intense. Like many women nowadays she had taken full
advantage of the anti 'AIDS' laws and kept her husband under
permanent lock and key.

Ever since the law had been changed, all a woman had to do was
apply to the court and suggest she was concerned about his
fidelity. They had his perineum pierced and fitted the permanent
steel ring. There were a variety of devices on open sale for
attaching to the ring. She had purchased the most popular, a
simple locking strap. When his penis was locked back it would
make intercourse impossible, and masturbation at best painful.
The law obliged him to allow himself to be locked up in this way,
on pain of imprisonment.

It was amazing how society had changed. At first it was only a
handful of women, then gradually, like a snowball, it gathered
speed. Very few people publicly admitted that the system was
clearly being abused by many women. It was becoming almost
fashionable to have your man locked up. There was a move by
pressure group calling itself 'EQUALITY' and a handful of
politicians to have the law abolished, but they were soon shouted
down with classical scaremongering and moral majority tactics.

Apparently statistical evidence showed that most of the
'EQUALITY' campaigners were divorced or single men. People were
soon convinced that these were the kind of promiscuous men that
had originally placed society in such danger. Even the divorce
laws had been changed, a man had to prove his wife to be
promiscuous to gain a divorce.

David found his organ being tugged again. He was a big man who
had found favour in several women's eyes in the 'good old days'.
Rarely nowadays did his ten inches get the exercise it needed.

"How long since you used this like a real man, wanker?" came the
question. Over the last couple of years, ever since the
'piercing', her attitude had become increasingly disdainful
towards him.

David couldn't remember precisely how long it had been. He had
been used by her many times in recent weeks. More often than not
with that awful dildo projecting from his face. But it was ages
since she had allowed him intercourse, properly that is.

"Five . . . or six . . . weeks, Ma'am," he answered. She had
recently taken to insisting he address her that way. And it was
best not to upset her.

"That's no good to me. You'll shoot too soon."

Christine looked petulant. David felt intensely nervous. She was
dangerous when she was a little drunk. She drank deep from her
goblet of wine and David's nervousness increased.

"Toss yourself off," she ordered suddenly.

David was startled but, in the circumstances, scarcely 
hesitated.

Anyway, it was a relief after so much restriction. Quickly he
came to erection. It was a big erection and he saw her eyes hot
upon it. Again and again the goblet went to her mouth as he
wanked himself hard.

One did not often get such opportunities. Best to make the most
of them! The only orgasms he had achieved in weeks were induced
by his own secret and painful manipulation of his restrained
equipment.

She had been right. In no time at all, with hand working hard, he
came to the boil. Groaning, sagging down to his knees, David
prepared to unleash himself.

"Stop," he heard the command just in time. "More wine," her
goblet was projected towards him. His organ bobbing in front of
him he rushed to give her the refill she desired. As he stood
beside her, her hand weighed his equipment. She reached into her
handbag and tossed a condom onto the floor behind him. "Get on
with it," she ordered, her hand waving in the direction of the
floor.

He knelt once more before her. It was so humiliating to have
one's sexuality at the whim of a woman. Once the condom was
rolled on he pumped slowly and steadily, trying to make it a
pleasurable experience.

"Quickly, wanker, get it over and done with. I haven't got all
day," she insisted.

David obeyed and was soon bending forward as the spasms shot
through his body.

"Hmmff," he heard her exclamation of disdain.

'By the gods, I'd like to fuck the arse off her', he thought, as
he knelt there, head bowed. It had been shaming to do such a
thing on the orders of a woman . . . in front of a woman . . .
but nevertheless it had been a great relief.

"You will tongue me, sex-slave," came the order. "And you will
tongue me good. Otherwise I'll have to beat you. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am . . . ."

Such beatings, and abuse of women's new found power were
increasingly more common. David, like most men, would be too
ashamed to make any complaint to the police.

David suppressed what remnants of male pride he had. He crawled
forward and inserted himself between the strong white thighs.
They parted further to accommodate him. There, right before him,
was the black bushy triangle. He went down, his mouth was
enveloped in the hairs. His lips found other lips. Wet, warm
lips. Eager lips. His tongue thrust. From above, came a low moan.

His nostrils were filled with the sensual scent of this
demanding woman. The woman he was made to serve as she wished. As
she dictated. His tongue thrust again. And again. And again. He
felt the clitoris firming. The moans above intensified.

Christine came to her full arousal quite quickly . . . but then,
deliberately prolonging her pleasure, she was a long time
building up to the climax. David stayed down to her, tonguing
assiduously, for what seemed an age . . . but was probably about
ten minutes. Ever and anon, the stocking clad thighs would clamp
to his cheeks and he thought she was about to climax. But then
the thighs would relax again. Not a word was spoken. He was just
a male 'thing', there to service her. The only sounds, in fact,
apart from his strongly lapping tongue, were Christine's repeated
low moans of pleasure.

By the time the curvaceous body began to shudder and jerk as the
climax at last approached, David found himself in full erection
once more. Oh what a joy to be in that state! To be free of that
hideous strap! To be a man again!

"Aaaaahhhh . . . . hhhaaaahhhhhhh . . . . hhhaaaahhh . . . ."
Christine's haunches were jerking uncontrollably. She twisted
from side to side. Yet, by a tremendous effort, David managed to
keep his tongue positioned . . . and thrusting. He knew she would
want that.

The climax was prolonged and powerful . . . and this demanding
woman whimpered like a little kitten in her delight. That delight
was enhanced by the thought of the big cock she was shortly to
enjoy! When the spasm was at last over, David went on tonguing.
He had been given no orders to do otherwise. However, he found
his head pushed brusquely away. He knelt there, seeing her soft
white belly rising and falling, hearing her heavy breathing, just
waiting to see if the services of his mouth and tongue were
required again. As her 'sex-slave', that was all he could do.
Dare do.

to be continued.....
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  .....Authors of the Fem Dom Training Program.....
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