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From: corvidae1@aol.com (Corvidae1)
Subject: (ASS/M)RP Nothing Like The Sun: Three (F/m)
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Disclaimers:    
    
If you’re underage and/or sexual material is illegal where you live, stop
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please stop reading (though one wonders what you’re doing here in the first
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Comments and constructive criticism are welcome. Flames will be ignored.    
    
* * * *    
Nothing Like The Sun    
    
By L.Corvidae    
    
                     Chapter Three: Patterns of Force             
                                             
Friday Evening            
               
  The movie went over better than i could have hoped for. When the snow        
       
creature swatted Mark Hamil, Mistress Catherine jumped, clutching at my        
       
arm. A few scenes later when he's hanging from the ceiling, She gave my        
       
arm another, more playful squeeze.                
                
   As the film progressed, She rested Her head on my shoulder. Midway          
     
through She broke into hysterical laughter during the scene where Luke         
      
tries to convince his new "master," Yoda to take him on. He boasts, "I'm       
        
not afraid," and the diminutive creature growls, "You will be.. you WILL       
        
be..." Mistress carried on so loudly that we began to get dirty glares         
      
from the other patrons. An usher passed by and scowled at us. She sank         
      
into Her seat, a helpless mass of giggles.                
                
   When at last She recovered, She began to tug at my coat, which i'd          
     
removed and draped over the back of my seat. Obliging Her, i leaned            
   
forward so She could have it. She played with it for a second, wrapping it     
          
around and around in Her arms, before setting it back down in my lap.          
     
                
   i was wondering what the point of all that was, when i felt something       
        
nuzzle up against my crotch. i glanced down and saw Her arm disappearing       
        
down underneath the coat. She laid Her head back to rest against my arm        
       
again, and slowly, click by click, undid my zipper.                
                
   i made a gulping sound in my suddenly parched throat, and surveyed the      
         
theater nervously. We were near the back and, thankfully, the few people       
        
who had sat near us had moved after Mistress' outburst. On the screen all      
         
was sturm and drang as ships rocketed through asteroids and blasted the        
       
hell out of one another. The noise was phenomenal                
                
   Her hand slipped into my pants, and immediately brushed past my penis.      
         
Instead, She began to fondle my scrotum, manipulating it carefully until       
        
She had both testicles in Her grasp.                
                
   Then She squeezed.                
                
   At first the pressure was soft, but firm; and the sensation it brought      
         
forth was one of intense stimulation rather than outright pain. Then She       
        
squeezed again, longer and harder than before.                
                
   i don't know exactly why, but as She was doing this, i put my arm           
    
around Her; my hand coming to rest squarely on Her breast. When She            
   
squeezed again, i did too: my actions a tender mirror of Her increasingly      
         
rough ministrations. She had on some kind of underwired bra, so i could        
       
feel Her nipple harden as i massaged Her; pleasuring Her even as She           
    
tormented me.                
                
    my balls tried to shrink away from the pain, but She kept them locked      
         
in a fearsome grip. i pinched Her nipple lightly between my fingers,           
    
undulating my palm against the whole broad surface of Her tit.                
                
   She collapsed Her hand into a fist, sending a tidal wave of howling         
      
agony throughout my body, yet i could give it no voice. She buried Her         
      
face into my shoulder, biting me. A spasm passed from Her to me and She        
       
bit me again: a savage, bruising chomp. Her hand compressed so tightly         
      
that there seemed no room left for anything else. i felt crushed,              
 
castrated.                
                
    i don't know if She actually came, or just stopped short lest She make     
          
another scene. Abruptly, She went limp, the whole weight of Her upper body     
          
slumping against mine.                 
                
    She withdrew Her hand from my pants and  made a disgusted face at the      
         
slight smear of pre-cum along Her index finger. With a low snarl, Mistress     
          
mashed the afflicted area against my lips.                
                
    "Lick," She whispered sternly.            
            
    The rest of the movie passed uneventfully. When it had ended, Mistress     
      
commanded me to walk out of the theater ahead of Her. She'd forbidden me       
    
to pull up my zip, and thanks to my unabated erection, i had to walk           

through the lobby with a noticeable patch of my underwear sticking out the     
      
front of my trousers. Several of the employees pointed and laughed and one     
      
sweet woman tried to tell me what i already knew by making a zipping           

motion down the front of Her skirt.            
             
  i just shrugged like an idiot at her and walked on out to the car.           

            
   Mistress didn't say anything on the ride back to Her house, and when we     
      
parked in the drive, She waited for me to get out and open Her door.           

            
   She got out of the car and proceeded to shove me up against the hood.       
    
Standing on the tips of Her toes, She pressed Her body to mine and gave me     
      
an aggressive, wet, probing kiss; Her hands grabbing at my ass.              
            
    She pulled back; Her eyes glittered with erotic heat and cold mirth.       
    
            
    "Time for you debut, my little painslut."            
            
    i started to follow Her towards the house, but She gently pushed me        
   
away. She reached into Her purse and got out something.            
            
   "Open."             
            
   i opened my mouth as instructed. She reached up and put a key inside.       
     
            
    "The slave's entrance is in the rear, michael."            
            
    Approaching the house from behind, the ground sloped away so            
dramatically that the building seemed huge. Even in the dark, i could tell     
      
the backyard sprawled out to cover an impressive amount of land for a          
 
residential area. Beyond that were thick, ominous woods.             
            
    There was a concrete patio by the basement door, and i promptly            
removed the key from my mouth and opened the door.            
        
   i entered a small mud room which had only a heavy-duty Rubbermaid           

garbage can in it. my collar hung by a hook by the door and i took it and      
     
began to undress myself again. The can was clean, and basically symbolic,      
     
but i was still uncomfortable dumping my best suit into it.            
        
   On the wall beside the opposite door was a sampler. Its borders were        
   
all done up with hearts and bunny rabbits. ABANDON ALL HOPE, it read, ALL      
     
YE WHO ENTER HERE.            
        
   Cute, i thought to myself, also wrong - though i wasn't about to mention
that to Her.            
        
   The door led into a narrow hall which in turn led to two more rooms to      
     
the side before opening up into the dungeon proper. One of those            
additional rooms had its door shut. The other, closest to the dungeon, was     
      
a cramped bathroom, complete with bathtub.            
        
   The lights were off as i padded into the dungeon in my bare feet. i         
  
knelt down in the dark at the bottom of the stairs and awaited the arrival     
      
of Mistress.            
        
   The drama of it all was not lost on me as She descended from the bright     
      
lights above into the darkened realm below. But it was when the silhouette     
      
effect diminished that i gasped aloud.            
        
   Long ago, in one of our earliest chat room sessions, She'd asked me to      
     
list the three items of clothing and/or fetish gear that i found most          
 
arousing on a woman. my answers had been simple: a short leather skirt,        
   
long leather gloves, and though i was submissive, a bright red ball gag.       
    
        
   It had been such a minor thing, and so early in our relationship that i     
      
was amazed when She came down the stairs dressed in those things, the gag      
     
worn as a necklace of course, and nothing else.            
        
   "Tell me what you want, michael."            
        
   "i... i want to please you Mistress. i want to give you pleasure.           

Please, take this flesh, use it to give yourself pleasure!"            
        
   "Any way I see fit, michael?"            
        
   "Any way, Mistress."            
        
   She turned on the lights and ordered me to cross the room, on my knees,     
      
naturally, before having me sit on a padded little stool.            
        
   She retrieved a few items from one of the wardrobes. The first was a        
   
big leather sleeve, which i had to somehow put on my arms while they were      
     
behind my back. When i got it more or less right, She made a few            
adjustments and then pulled the laces tight until the muscles in my chest      
     
began to feel the strain.            
        
   Mistress' words from the night before suddenly echoed through my mind:      
     
"A good sub trusts his Domme to know what she's doing, not cry 'Safeword'      
     
when his dirty little fantasies get all too real." Well, reality was           

crashing in around me. i was now a prisoner, helpless; the only things         
  
between me and grievous harm a mere word, and the conscience of a            
self-proclaimed sadist.            
        
   She didn't even notice the onset of my panic; just went right on to the     
      
next item which happened to be a pair of six-inch spike heels. She began       
    
to painfully smash  my size twelve feet into the size eight shoes. They        
   
were narrow where my feet were widest, and impossibly narrow where my feet     
      
were thin. If it weren't for the buckles and snaps, they would've shot         
  
right off my agonized feet.            
        
   Lastly, She took off the gag, kissed the bright red ball, and popped it     
      
into my mouth, pulling the strap tight.            
        
   She ordered me to my feet, and i experienced a whole new wave of pain       
    
as the entire weight of my body pushed my feet further down into the           

shoes; my metatarsal arch smashed deeper into the unyielding point of the      
     
toe. With my center of gravity even higher up than usual thanks to the         
  
heels, my six-foot frame wobbled uncontrollably as i took tiny, baby steps     
      
to follow Her. To add to my worries, the shoes had negligible surface          
 
area, and zero traction on the slick linoleum. i had terrifying visions of     
      
breaking my ankles.            
        
   She ordered me to stop and hold still while She dragged a small            
stepladder next to me. She'd also gotten a coil of thin, silk rope. She        
   
started twining the rope around my balls, separating each testicle and         
  
tying them off with a sharp, quick jerk. Then She closed a tight loop          
 
around the base of my scrotum and another around the base of my cock.          
 
        
   Mistress took the other end and climbed up on the stepladder, feeding       
    
it through one of the eyebolts set in the overhead beams. She pulled it        
   
taut and secured it like that with a complex knot.             
        
   my whole body was trembling as She climbed back down. i began to            
whimper behind my gag, but She merely smiled at me, gave me a toodle-loo       
    
wave, and skipped away, going back up the stairs.            
        
   my ankles began to buckle, my calves cramped up.            
        
   Through the haze of fear and pain, i picture Mistress merrily skipping      
     
into Her bedroom. i imagine a big, soft four poster bed and a huge home        
   
entertainment center: three televisions, one for each camera. i see Her        
   
kicking off Her skirt and crawling into bed; gleefully snatching the           

remote from a bedside table. One screen, the largest, is a close-up of my      
     
face: red and quivering. Drool runs from the corners of my mouth, tears        
   
from my eyes. Another camera has a full-body shot from the rear; the third     
      
closes in on my trembling behind.            
        
    In the depths of my fevered visions, i fancy Her absently toying with      
     
the same breast i had fondled earlier. With Her other hand She reaches         
  
over and takes a vibrator from a drawer.            
        
   She watches me intently, waiting for some sign; a twitch or spasm that      
     
will tell Her the time is at hand. The vibrator begins to hum. She places      
     
it between Her legs.            
        
   my own legs collapse from under me; the vibrator slides home. my entire     
      
body is hanging by my genitals; my feet scrabble frantically for traction.     
      
        
   my ears are filled with the muffled sound of my own screams. Somewhere,     
      
Mistress begins to moan.        
    

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun  

               William Shakespeare


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