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Subject: {ASSM} The Governor's Wife - Part Twenty-eight
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Date: Sat, 11 Dec 1999 16:10:01 -0500
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Warning: This story is about non-consensual domination. It is
fiction, but it is erotic - despite or perhaps partly because it
is non-consensual.
Copyright: Victor Bruno.
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html
The Governor's Wife
by Victor Bruno
Part Twenty-eight
"IT IS POSSIBLE, thought Frank, that I have actually
become deranged. That I am truly in a madhouse. How else
could you account for the fact that he was crouched in
the corner of that room .... naked .... nose to the
floor? The whole thing was quite ridiculous. Yes, he
must have actually gone crazy and now no longer had any
control over his actions.
For some bizarre reason, he had chosen to do what he was
doing.
Yes .... that must be it ....
Minute after minute ticked away in heavy silence.
Each minute seemed like five. How long had he been where
he was anyway. Was his Mistress actually asleep? Was he
actually a dog?
Oh .... oh the never ending pain!
There was no longer rhyme or reason in anything ....
Why couldn't he simply roll over on to his side .... and
sleep and sleep and sleep?
No. Somehow he knew he mustn't do that. He would be
punished. His Mistress would punish him. Naughty,
naughty dog. Whack .... whack.... whack! No. He didn't
want any more of that. He must be a good dog .... and
stay just as he was. Until his Mistress flicked her
fingers and had him come running again.
A dog's life.
"Fido ...."
Every nerve tingled. Mainly with dread. How long had he
been in that corner? Half an hour? Maybe an hour. Maybe
more. Frank tensed, waiting. What was her game now?
"Come here, Fido ...."
Frank turned and moved across the room on all fours.
"You have been a good dog, Fido, so your Mistress is
going to be kind to you. Keep still."
Frank kept still; very still. Yet quivering with nerves.
He whimpered as he felt the cold ointment being smeared
over his burning rump. Oh .... oh .... thank God for
that! Oh .... oh .... how wonderful.... how kind ....
his Mistress was! Almost instantly, it seemed, the
terrible throbbing-burning pains began to ease a little.
He literally sobbed with relief.
"There .... isn't that better?"
Frank was patted on the bottom.
"Woof!" he said.
Above him, Hettie Page smiled in evil content. The
degree of control she had acquired over this male being
was profoundly satisfying to her. She was experiencing a
depth of pleasure that few women would understand, let
alone appreciate.
"Now ...." she purred, "a good doggie thanks his
Mistress. Just like my poodle used to do."
Frank waited, still crouching, tenser than ever.
"He licks her feet ...."
Frank moved to the end of the bed, there, as he
expected, he found two small white feet projecting.
Soft, scented, feminine feet, the nails carefully
lacquered a brilliant scarlet.
Opening his mouth, Frank began to lick the feet. Slowly
and carefully. The soles, the insteps, the ankles, the
toes. Everywhere. Both of them, in turn. He did it with
loving devotion.
This is my Mistress, he kept continuously saying to
himself.
I must demonstrate how much I respect her; how much I
adore her; how much I wish to serve her. I am, indeed,
her obedient servant in all things. And it is my
privilege to be at her feet, devoting myself entirely to
them.
Frank laved both feet several times, all over. Then he
began to concentrate on the tiny toes, slavishly licking
and tonguing between them. Far, far away, it seemed, he
heard his Mistress murmur and giggle. The toes would
clench and twitch.
"Oh .... oh Fido .... that tickles .... but it's nice
.... yes it is nice .... what .... a good dog you are!"
On and on went Frank, tonguing and tonguing, mindless
now except to serve the feet of his Mistress!
"Stop .... good dog .... that will do ...."
Frank stopped. He was literally panting. He stayed
exactly where he was, head hanging. It was nice to know
he had earned his Mistress's approval. Good dog, she had
said. How very gratifying!
"Now, Fido," said the cool, calm voice from above, "when
my poodle was very good .... and when his Mistress's
nerves needed a little relaxing .... he used to be
allowed to lick her somewhere else. Somewhere far more
exciting." Hettie giggled. "You're going to be allowed
to do that now, Fido. Up on the bed with you.... come
along .... good dog .... good dog ...."
The flaring of the nerves, the pulsing of the blood....
Frank knew what he had to do, of course. And he was a
man not a dog. Slowly, almost carefully, he raised his
head .... to see Hettie kneeling on the bed, her head
sideways on the pillows, her hindquarters raised high,
her long thighs splayed wide. She was now stark naked.
It was like a dream, unreal. All the more so when she
spoke.
"Start with my arsehole, Fido .... doggies like
arseholes, don't they?"
Still disbelieving, Frank slid up on to the bed. Now he
was about to serve his Mistress truly. Wonderingly, he
clasped the thighs. Gently but firmly. Then his nose and
mouth went between the widened cleft. He flickered his
tongue against the tight anus. Then he thrust it hard.
Probing.
"Mmmm .... aah .... yes .... yes ...." sighed Hettie
contentedly.
A penetration. More delicate probing. Then out again.
Out again to lave the whole cleft.
Lavishly ....
Slavishly ....
A tongue of utter devotion. Adoring to serve. Honour to
serve. Indeed, now wanting to serve.
Then suddenly came the searing pain. The pain of the
ring clamped around his penis. Frank was forced to
withdraw, sobbing. He was in too much torment to proceed
and nothing on earth could have made him do so.
Hettie was aware of it.
"Oh dear, poor Fido," she murmured complacently, " his
Mistress forgot."
She scrabbled on the bedside table, twisted herself
around, took hold of Frank's swelling organ, and
unlocked the steel ring which encircled it.
Frank sobbed with relief.
"It's alright, Fido, you can let yourself go now," said
Hettie, kneeling provocatively again. "Your Mistress
understands .... and doesn't mind any more."
Frank, hardening fast, slid back into position. His
tongue began to work again.
"No .... not there any more. You know where, good doggie
...."
Frank did indeed know where and, with lustful relish, he
plunged his tongue between the succulent sex-lips,
whilst his nose was pressed to his Mistress's anus. How
welcoming and warm she was! How deliciously she quivered
under his ministrations.
Oh God .... if only he could fuck her!
No .... no .... he mustn't even think of that.
Though perhaps she might let him ....
Perhaps.
No .... no .... A Mistress might use her dog's tongue.
But certainly she would use him no further. A dog must
know it's place.
"Mmmmm .... ahh .... ahhh .... mmmmmmmmm ...." sighed
Hettie, beginning to wriggle.
Frank worked even more fervently with lips and tongue.
He had become a mere object .... an oral object ....
which had but one function. To serve and delight his
Mistress.
Soon, to his great joy, he realised his Mistress was
approaching a climax.
She began to gasp and squeal. Her bottom juddered, her
flesh quaked. Frank, himself in full erection, found he
had placed a hand on his urgently throbbing organ. No
sooner had he done so, than he withdrew it as if his
penis had been a red-hot poker. That, he now well knew,
was strictly forbidden!
He went on tonguing and tonguing whilst his Mistress
spent herself in a prolonged and obviously most
satisfying orgasm.
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html
mailto:VictorBruno@MsChristine.com
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