Chapter Twenty-Three

“Do you know what today is darling?”

He thought about it. They were cuddled under a light coverlet, the morning sun softened by polarization but luxuriously warm. She smoothed some hair that had escaped his ponytail back out of his face. She cupped his cheek with her palm and he smiled.

“I give up. They’ve all blurred together. And I haven’t seen a calendar since the clinic.”

“It’s Saturday. It’s three weeks into our fourth month together. Next week will mark a third of your atonement finished already – if you insist on dragging this out all year that is. Coincidentally though, next week is also the second anniversary of your accident.”

“I took it pretty well last year.”

“No darling Karl, I’m sorry to say you did not. You woke up screaming and refused to talk about it. Then you barely acknowledged the significance of the date. As usual you repressed the true extent of the trauma and took refuge in apathy. You treated it like any other day when you should have used the occasion for self-analysis and to rededicate yourself to getting better.

“Well, now you’ve done that and made a really positive start to treating the problem. So let’s take the next step. Next week we’re going to keep intensifying the treatments, and as the big day arrives we’ll make a real push to get through to your subconscious. We’ll use the symbolism of the date to our favor. Maybe we can break you free and be in Maui by the end of the month.”

“Whatever you say, Nurse Drake. I’m on board.”

“I’m glad. So let’s also take a deep breath before the plunge. We’ll go easy today. And tonight we’ll set aside special to make long, slow, sweetly romantic love just like man and wife – albeit of the slightly kinky variety.”

“Awesome! I’m your guy for that anytime.”

“It’s a date. Maybe we’ll try some new things, play some games with it.”

“I can’t wait.”

Wait he had to unfortunately. First they had to do the bowel routine (no complications this time) and enjoy their usual bath and grooming. They had to stretch him out and put him through a moderate workout and atonement session. This latter only involved the lungeing whip, so for once it wasn’t necessary to keep him suspended afterwards. Back on the bed Karl found himself lying slouched with his head and shoulders slightly elevated again. His legs were frogged out and his hands proffering his bald genitals just like old times. Furthermore there was no plethora of little torments assailing him, only the vibrator buzzing his balls and the nipple-stretchers keeping him pulled out and twisted. Doreen even spared him the tedious TV in favor of hours of femdom videos. She left him watching these, his prick already fighting uselessly against the condom, while she went to document his case and prepare a special dinner for them.

Still it had been a relentlessly testing three weeks since their private holiday, which of course had been no typically relaxing day in the sun. Without being stretched suspended in some acutely stressful fashion, his tongue clipped and his dick being whipped et cetera Karl eventually dozed off. Not even the soundtrack, exciting or annoying by turns, could keep him awake.

Doreen was understanding when she arrived with dinner. Her chiding was playfully erotic as she invited him to come from oblivion into heaven.

“Hello, naughty. Are you giving Goddess a reason to make your loving more punishing?”

“Not consciously, ma’am.” Karl was answering even as he snapped awake. “Just ordinary mortal weakness I’m afraid. I’m terribly sorry. But I’ve been worn to a frazzle.”

“I know. I’ve been wearing you to that frazzle. Among other reasons, it’s kept the dreams from your awareness, letting all this atonement and frustration accumulate uninterrupted. But it appears that not even a vibrator on your balls can keep you from sneaking a nap these days.

“Such a pity. I may have to find a more effective one to use on you. And I will certainly have to work a little punishment into our loving tonight. For now though let’s just enjoy the atmosphere, our dinner and each other’s company. I promised you a date in lieu of marriage (or a lifetime of slavery if you prefer), and I’m laying on the incentive.”

Having blinked the bleariness from his eyes at last, Karl was already goggling in astonished excitement. He’d dozed off in an exceptionally nice but still basically ordinary earthly domicile. He’d awakened in the bower of Venus.

Misty dusk had fallen outside, swaddling them from everything beyond their sanctuary. Dozens of candles had been placed all around the suite, tall steady flames gleaming atop inch-thick pillars. Phallic in this feminine dominion, their collective radiance enforced an aura of divinely provided seclusion, a sacristy for the essential rites they intended to perform.

At the periphery of this paradise, instrumental jazz-fusion unspooled and the femdom porn had been replaced by silent scenic landscapes. Yet what candle could be held to the supernatural glory that was his own Aphrodite?

Doreen was carrying a tray with yet another ambrosial repast for them, another carafe of nectar and another taste of her herbal elevator. A single red rose stood in an elegant flute and she had at last dispensed with even her minimalist uniform. Instead her even more minimalist trappings expressed a higher authority, one inherent in herself. As usual, Karl tried to keep his eyes from popping and his jaw from dropping. Also as usual Doreen’s warmly percipient orbs told him that she saw through his efforts and enjoyed his bedazzlement.

There was ample reason to be bedazzled. Besides her lingerie she had her hair piled up in some fabulously glamorous style. She was wearing makeup applied with the lighting in mind and what was clearly her best jewelry. He kept catching some elusive yet maddeningly enticing scent from her and suspected it was perfume, though nothing like what the high school girls used. The insanely unbelievable sum was that his nurse, his benefactor and lover, this multiply-imbued erotic icon had made herself as attractive as she possibly could for him.

She was acting just as if this truly was a real date between spouses. Devoted wife hell, divine icon yes, Doreen looked more like a movie star, or more accurately, a top-end lingerie model. Knowing it was allowed and welcome, Karl didn’t even try diverting his attention from the way she was dressed as his Venus smiled upon and descended to claim him. He was floating in a cloud of loving wonderment.

Her teddy covered her breasts and hips, but not by much and not much else. Open all the way down the front and seeming no more substantial than the mist at the window, its matching triangles of diaphanous silver-gray draped her endowment with satiny transparency before being joined by a chain looped loosely about her neck. The filmy skirt clung too, a vague swirled pattern to its glister where it graced perhaps two thirds of her buttocks and allowed regular peeks at sacred territory in front as well. As she eased onto her half of the bed Doreen made no move to remove her classy-sexy high heels, and Karl wanted to volunteer on the spot to tongue-clean these. It seemed the only way to salve the offense of his unworthiness. And it was the least he could do to protect the sheets! Allow him to demonstrate his humility and allegiance, and perform some housework at last! He was opening his mouth when Doreen preempted him.

“I see you looking at my shoes, darling. Do you like them? They certainly cost me enough, and I so rarely have a reason to wear them.”

“Are you kidding? Everything about you from top to toes is so fantastically alluring I’ll never believe you aren’t divine. I was admiring your shoes, Aphrodite, because I want to show you some small sliver of my infinite devotion and bottomless thanks by cleaning them personally in the only way I can.”

“Why that sounds like delightful fun! I adore your initiative. How about the feet inside too? Are you a foot lover, little slut?”

“I never have been yet. But I’m young and callow after all. Suddenly I’m absolutely frantic to probe the possibilities.”

Doreen laughed as she set the tray across his lap, crushing the already up-jutting if painfully stunted monster back down against his still sorely buzzing balls.

“I think we have foreplay portents here. Would you like me to use my feet and shoes to pump and play with your penis too?”

“Goddess, I consider myself blessed every time you deign to notice me. I welcome your must punishing touch with astounded gratitude. You look so gorgeous right now I would gladly die for you. Do whatever you choose to me, tonight and forever.”

“Well then, let’s eat, drink and get merry. We’ll add all that to the extensive list of other sexual escapades I have planned for afterwards.”

So they shared sustenance in their sanctuary. Surrounded by constellations of candles they shared kisses and companionship and that aphrodisiac herb as well. Or rather Nurse Drake provided these things and Karl was blessed to partake of them like everything else. Then the tray was cleared away, the wine and weed put on standby and Karl was encouraged to void.

As always he blessed this neurologic quirk: apparently his subconscious craved the punishment of regular invasive catheterization no more than the rest of him. Once he was safely empty the vibrator was finally shut off and removed and the painfully stymied monster freed of its rubber straitjacket. Immediately this reared up, insane bravado added to ancient imperative.

Mutely begging for another addictive yet ultimately distressing orgy of stimulation, it would be quite a while before this fellow was even acknowledged however. Doreen was a connoisseur of kissing, and from chaste pecks selectively placed she could spend half an hour or more building up through a long and vigorously passionate bout of making out. Thus she dawdled as always, nibbling her way down his neck finally to where she battened like a lamprey.

Karl had always resisted getting love bites (though he enjoyed giving them): more of that asshole selfish attitude. Now he groaned in glorious rapture. His mistress’ powerfully sucking mouth was clamped to his throat, drawing the blood to the surface in a bloom of burst vessels.

He gasped and twitched as she fed. Five times she did this, growling with feral joy while she marked him as her property. Finally sated, his vampiress Venus moved on to his stretched and twisted nipples. One at a time she removed each clamp. Then she fastened her lips in its place. Moaning with savor she sucked that distended and indented tit-bud more ravenously yet.

This enflamed then gradually soothed the sudden sharp shriek of excruciation. It was as if she was maximizing the pain so she could draw it out of him: echoes of his bee sting fantasy, with his beloved as succubus. Even when that shriek was depleted to a familiar ache she kept tonguing and suckling him just as he so craved to do for her. In fact soon she was giving his titty a hickie and this combination of additions to their usual dalliance quickly had Karl giddy with rapture. Sensing this, rather than continue her feeding lower down Doreen next chose to give him a chance to use his own mouth – and to live out the mad abasement he’d conceived for himself.

As he had fantasized, so was he soon wallowing: frantically licking that high-grade leather, eagerly cleaning his mistress’ shoes. He even caught himself wishing for the thigh-high boots that featured so regularly in his dreams. When she presented him with the soles he didn’t balk at all. He swiped his tongue over that gritty surface (the ground she walked on!) more fervidly than ever, the monster raging uselessly at its master’s demeaning. When she pushed the three-inch heel between his teeth, he wrapped it in his lips and sucked that hard spike until his cheeks hollowed out. When she began sliding it in and out he didn’t hesitate but puckered up and simulated fellatio for her though it made his face flame outrageously. Finally those sexy shoes were clean enough to eat with however – or at last indulge in some serious monster-baiting.

Nurse Drake rubbed his genitals all over with the toes and instep and sides, squashed him with the soles, caught him between these or in the curve between heel and sole and stroked him deliriously up and down. She bent him unnaturally back, pinned and ground him under the toe and spike, fondled him and worried him about and gave him little kicks that sent him waggling energetically. She used every trick in her invention to drive him to desperation with only her expensive footwear. But at last enough was enough. She directed him to use just his lips to carefully unbuckle the strap across each ankle. Then he caught each heel between his teeth and drew the shoe respectfully off. He dropped it on his neck to tumble away. Like Mary Magdalene then (but bettering her by far) he was allowed to bathe his deity’s feet by the only means he had.

Karl was no Glen Quagmire, whose fetish led him to receiving the foot of the Statue of Liberty as a wedding present on an episode of Family Guy he once saw. He’d considered feet no more erotic than any other body part and plenty less than many. Yet now he was exalted beyond bearing as he slavishly lapped at his owner’s extremities. Still he remained conscientious in his frenzy, scrubbing his tongue determinedly between each toe, honored to cleanse this epitome of perfection of every last stain of earthly impurity.

On and on the monster throbbed, growing rabid in its dementia. Driven beyond consideration, Karl found himself finishing by shamelessly simulating fellatio again. Without even thinking about it he was urgently suckling and pleasuring an entire intruding big toe as though it was some far more erogenous organ – though it was certainly erogenous enough.

Doreen’s giggles turned to moans, her hands fisted in the sheets and she began thrusting that toe in and out. Fucking his face with her foot, she began forcing progressively more of this into him. Soon Karl had almost half of it stretching his lips, stuffing his mouth and nudging in and out. Yet though he was streaming tears, spilling slaver and even retching occasionally he continued to suck and slather her with his squashed tongue in a veritable ecstasy of abasement.

“Damn, you’re so cute!” Doreen gasped. “Oh, I can’t wait to fuck you for real! But let’s see what else these feet can do for you.”

That proved to beggar belief. After all kinds of squashing and kicking about again, stroking and fondling and rubbing, Karl was clutched by wet toes or squeezed between soles and masturbated so adroitly that he eventually had to cry out in warning.

Amazingly adept that touch may have been; sensitive to all the precursor signals Nurse Drake’s hands and mouth detected effortlessly it was not. Karl continued to behave in good faith however despite a deprivation amid gluttony few males could have coped with. He understood the principle of deferred gratification and the choice between the state home and Maui remained no choice at all. Doreen rewarded his restraint with kisses that made his heart feel bursting with love and favor. She murmured adoring approval in his ear, her breath panting hotly against him as her hand took over, pumping him so exquisitely slowly that he wanted to explode again, this time from the groin. So stirred up he couldn’t suppress it, a sob escaped him.

“What’s the matter my darling, my mate-for-the-year? Is even pretending to be married to me too much for you? Where’s the slave who was going to dress like a sissy, pamper me incessantly, and keep my house spotless for me forever as long as I used him as hard and cruelly as I could for the rest of his life?”

“Right here, my Goddess!” Karl cried as she rubbed the leaking tip of him with her thumb. Oh she was smearing the sweet seepage all over the whole plum! “Here to serve you adoringly for all eternity even in unremitting impotence!”

“That’s my good boy, my one-in-a-million little slut. Would you like me to give the monster-baiting a break for a while? You can service my asshole instead. Better yet, I owe your butt a spanking for falling asleep. I think I’m going to put my naughty boy over my lap, hold his little monster between my thighs and give him fifty or a hundred swats with my hairbrush.”

“Oh, please do it, beautiful! Make me suffer for every second I get to spend in your undeserved presence. Oh Goddess, how I fucking worship you!”

This was a regular feature of their lovemaking that usually involved as much stroking of silky bristles over his buttocks as hard wooden smacks, as much sensuous finger-rubbing of his crease and bung as kisses planted on each increasingly reddened cheek. When all that was over with at last, and Karl’s grateful tears kissed away, he gloried in frantically eating his owner’s ass to her first three screaming peaks of the evening. They took a break to partake of more of the bud and grape. Then it was time for a new erotic punishment. It was time to play with the candles.

Goddess Doreen stretched her repentant sinner spread-eagled again, his head and shoulders slightly elevated. Bound out in sacrificial fashion, Karl groaned and cried and pulsed with derangement as she knelt between his legs, drizzling streams of scalding wax from the big phallic candle she held in each hand.

As with the spanking, this was as wildly exciting as it was painful. Karl wallowed in a masochist’s heaven as he was coated almost completely and then had the encrustations slapped off the resulting burns with a small hand flogger. This was traded for the rose on the tray, and at last he had his thorns.

Whipped with the limber stem until the bloom disintegrated (surrounding them in a scattering of dismembered, blood-red petals), his lattice of little welts and scratches over that lightly flogged burn was deliriously painful but not too serious. Enraptured to the point of depravity, Karl was then again honored to service his adored deity’s needs.

With that the foreplay was officially history. From there they indulged in their usual marathon of kinky lovemaking, demonstrating their passion for and commitment to each other, and their delight in their asymmetric situation, until Karl was so supercharged with futile arousal he felt more than ever on the brink of exploding into trillions of ravening atoms. Only then, after coupling in seemingly endless configurations (and one more incredibly drawn-out indulgence in monster-devouring) did Doreen at last straddle him for her always supremely maddening, wondrously exhilarating simulation of female-superior intercourse.

Her gluteal cleft gripped him, air-light silk again caressing his other side. Her substantial weight pinned him in place, joining his paralysis, isolation and bondage to render him quadruply helpless. As they’d been doing all night, the diaphanous swaths draping those sumptuous breasts fell away as she leaned forward. Divinely ripe and round, capped by puckered points designed for suckling, these again dangled inches from Karl’s mouth: the ultimate forbidden fruit. And though Doreen continued to withhold these treasures from his deliberate delectation, she grew ever more careless of incidental contact. Again and again they brushed or even slapped his face as she began writhing and then lunging atop him.

Still Karl behaved himself. He made no move to steal pleasures he wasn’t worthy of. Even lifting his head off the pillow in hopes of more lucky slaps was beyond him.

He was the helpless receptacle here, enjoying or enduring whatever his deity deemed appropriate. Not only was this necessary and proper and what excited him the most, but he wasn’t sure he could actually handle any more transcendence. He had no desire to disappoint this paragon by being forced to halt her before she achieved every last climax of which she was capable. And already he was being driven right to the edge. How many ways did this (so far) ultimate act of love and dominance excite him? Though he was currently incapable of counting he could at least try to separate and acknowledge them.

There was the addictive frisson of submission of course, never more acute than when he was buried helpless under that fantastic body pumping and undulating inconsiderately away. There were those incredible breasts, dancing tantalizing about bare inches above his nose. There was that still familiar wonder at the love and favor being shown him, the intimacies permitted by this older woman so out of his league it was pathetic. Added to that was the irresistible contagion of her own obvious excitement: the breathless panting, unconscious cries, and the urgency with which she crushed him down and humped her body against him. And of course there was the overwhelming physicality of each instant: the heat and exertion and ever more stimulating friction of her vulva rocking and rubbing against the incessantly raging monster.

No man could be expected to withstand all this indefinitely. Yet Karl somehow managed to keep apotheosis at bay, to keep the accumulated pressure of nearly four months of ever increasing eroticism and Goddess knew how many hours of frantic coupling contained until Nurse Drake had ridden him to what was clearly an unprecedented number of orgasms. Still he was holding desperately out for, and she was frenziedly pursuing, what was clearly going to be the grand finale of neural fireworks when disaster unexpectedly struck.

Karl was teetering on a knife edge of tormented, exhilarated, maddened love and lust. His cry to stop was trembling on his lips but not yet given; Doreen was so close! She was grunting and barking out the short nonsense syllables of effort and escalation that invariably preceded her most extravagant climaxes: uh, uh, uh, er, er, er, da, da, da! Karl could let her go on for a few seconds more at least – or so he believed. But then two simultaneous happenstances collided. In her possessed frenzy Doreen dropped a bit lower and thrust that much harder against him. Before he knew it or could prepare for it his face was in her cleavage and the supremely sensitive, whipped and wax-burned tip of him caught briefly in the cup of her vagina. Almost immediately it popped free to slide again between silken drape and silkier cheeks, and along the length of the silkiest imaginable wet and parted labia. But even as Doreen screamed with peaking release at this unintended prod Karl’s own ejaculation was triggered.

Transcendent ecstasy, unimaginable relief and absolutely convulsive eruption were instantly tainted by horrified remorse. Karl cried out his warning an unforgivable instant too late. It didn’t matter. Even in the wracking throes of her own apotheosis Doreen felt him squirting.

“Goddamn it!” she gasped. Still she kept crying out and grinding her clit ruthlessly against his root while perhaps the bluest balls in history so cataclysmically emptied themselves.

Even in the midst of this interminably delayed apocalypse Karl was already sobbing his chagrin, his tears wetting the breasts still brushing against him. When his Goddess collapsed completely at last, when she moaned her disapproval from atop him, he could only sob on and hope he hadn’t just doomed himself to the state home he so clearly deserved.