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Should not I Get to cum

 

 

Tonight after a nasty couple of days, I thought I'd be able to relax. I knew I was being invited over for dinner and I thought it would be different this time. When I arrived, Marguerite made me take off everything, even my chastity belt.

 

"What's going on?" I asked. " I dressed for this party, and now you've undressed me." I kept wanting to touch my prick, as it was free and my hands were free.first time since New Year's Day.I wanted to cum.

 

Marguerite smiled and handed me an apron. Oh, no. Then high heels, and a repulsive, cheap curly red wig.and a weird Lone Ranger mask.

 

And then there was a knock at the door. I looked at Marguerite pleadingly.

 

"Darling lambie." Marguerite smiled. "I am short on help tonight. Jasmine is away, and I need someone to pass trays.you won't know the people, but they're all very nice, some are my friends from the Black Rose (an S/M group she's in) Except for you, the dress is formal. go answer the door."

 

The next hour or so was incredibly unpleasant, I kept answering the door, and serving drinks, and passing canapés.After the party got a little giddy, some girl snatched off my apron, and the women began making me dance naked, while playing "Lola" from the Kinks.and Marguerite's bulldog, Clematis, kept coming up and sniffing my ass.

 

"He's going to take you from behind, lambie" Marguerite called heartily. Finally, she took me aside "Darling, I want to let you cum, but you must whack off in front of these people.kneel over there, please."

 

So I was kneeling in front of all the people at the party, naked except for high heels, the Lone Ranger mask and that ridiculous wig . I was horrified by this, but I'd not cum, as you all know, since January first.

 

But here I was, finally ready to humiliate myself, and begin wanking my wee-wee. and Marguerite wasn't quite ready to let me, and made me place my hands on my thighs as I knelt there, naked as a jaybird.

 

"All right, lambie.." Goddess said. "You can start touching yourself for us.slowly" Mortified but incredibly horny, I began pumping my erection.

 

"SLOWLY" Goddess reminded me. I relaxed my grip on the shaft and began rubbing it up and down in a slower motion.

 

"That's right, honey. Do you like I do.light strokes.you know how I rub it?" "Marguerite.you touch that disgusting thing?"

 

One of the women, an attractive thirty-five year old in a tight mock turtleneck shook her head.

 

"God he's such a disgusting little monster, like a gremlin you stole from a novelty shop." Marguerite laughed, and a guy who heads an association I've done work with said

 

"Jesus, who would be psycho enough to take off all his clothes and kneel in front of a group of strangers? Is he a schizo? I mean, S&M is one thing but." They all laughed, the men the loudest. My cheeks burned with shame, as I tried not to rub my dick too fast.

 

After all those stimulating Penthouse Variations articles about being naked in front of a group of beautiful Amazons, it was much, much worse to be naked in the presence of mixed company.it's worse being naked in front of clothed men who are in front of clothed women.why is that?

 

As everyone else was dressed even somewhat formally, having come from work on Capitol Hill, I felt especially ridiculous.

 

I'd seen one or two of those people around in my work on the Hill, and shuddered to think what would happen if the mask fell off, and they realized that one of Washington's preeminent lobbyists had been serving them canapés and martinis all night.

 

Worse, I'd been walking around with this humiliating erection.the belt was off, and thanks to nearly five months of chastity and many tease/denial sessions with Goddess Marguerite, my penis was bursting with bottled up semen and bobbing about.

 

My ball sac was huge now with the pent-up stores of unfulfilled sperm cells. Marguerite had put a leather cock ring around the base "so you could enjoy your masturbation more, honey" but it just made my phallus more engorged.

 

"That's right, honey. Rub it slowly.now with your left hand." I looked at Marguerite. I was afraid to speak, as someone there might recognize my voice from C-Span, but my left HAND?

 

It was so weak. But I began rubbing it with my left hand, very clumsily bouncing the fingers up and down my shaft. Still it was throbbing.any stimulation would do.

 

"You can rub it a little faster since your southpaw isn't so effective." Marguerite said, and I began rubbing faster, grunting and bouncing around.I closed my eyes and moaned.my cock was pulsing against my palm.

 

" God, he's so creepy." A young stenographer-type with big hair had spoken. Doesn't he ever get laid?" I ignored it and began to shake, my orgasm was approaching. I clenched my teeth. Here it came.

 

"Lambie stop." I opened my eyes. Marguerite looked at me threateningly. "Hand off the pee-pee, please." I couldn't remove my hand from my dick, it had been so long.

 

"Ken, could you hand me that fly swatter?" One of the guys laughed and gave the swatter to Marguerite, but I'd gotten the message, and my hands were back on my knees. A tear rolled down my mask.

 

"I just want you to take a break now, dear, and refresh drinks, and pass the canapés around again."Marguerite smiled.

 

"You want to be a good host, don't you?" I stood up, almost weeping, and did my rounds with the tray again, it was so awful, because none of the guests really wanted more hors d'ouevres, though some did take another drink.but at least they noticed me.earlier when I'd been walking around with the tray, they'd ignored me.

 

I mean, I'd been tottering around all night with my tray, and though it'd been a novelty watching me, earlier in the evening the guests had relaxed and had begun just talking with each other about work.

 

I'd hear references to bills being passed that I was influential on, but when I went by with the tray, the women would step out of the way, looking sort of revolted and amused.

 

It must have been a sight, this naked, masked transvestite with the bobbing, dripping, nearly purple organ. It's not a particularly big dick, but it looked grotesque all the same. like the poor guy on the Whizzer Black cartoons.

 

And now during the second round of drinks and food, they just stared, and a couple snorted with contempt.

 

"Jesus, what's that cottage cheese on his ass?" one of the guys asked. "It's cellulite, didn't you know men get that too?" the stenographer snorted. I bit my lip, and kept moving.

 

All my accomplishments up until now meant nothing?I was just a naked pervert at a Washington cocktail party.

 

I felt a flick on the now bloated tip of my penis, and the stenographer girl kind of looked away with a smile.I think she'd done it as I was passing.

 

This did not assist in lessening the pressure around my groin. I went back and put the tray down?no one wanted anything else.

 

"Come here, darling." Marguerite crooked a long nail. "Excuse us." She said to the others, and took me into the kitchen. Clovis, Marguerite's husband was dropping cut onions in a pan to make pasta for the guests.

 

Her husband, just a kitchen-boy at his own party. Marguerite ignored him.

 

"Hands behind your back, please." As I obeyed, she reached out and began stroking me."Poor thing..God, it's a horny cock."

 

I looked over at Clovis, who was gritting his teeth. He poured olive oil in the pan, and went to work with the garlic press, muttering. Clovis told me once that though he'd gotten over being jealous of her lovers, Marguerite's attentions to other slaves made him livid.

 

As humiliated as I was, at least I was involved at the party?he was stuck here in the kitchen.

 

"Clovis dear?" Marguerite looked at her resentful husband.

 

"Yes, Goddess?" Clovis looked at Marguerite with love in his eyes. Though it was she who was cheating on him with me slave-wise, he held none of it against her. Marguerite was his world.

 

"Could you give me the olive oil, please?" Clovis realized her intent, and pouted, but he handed her the bottle.

 

Marguerite smiled thanks and shook some into her hand, and began rubbing it up and down my shaft." God, it's like a stick-shift."

 

Marguerite leaned over and blew in my ear. She whispered loud enough for Clovis to hear "It's a lot bigger than Clovis' too.though way too small to do a girl like me any good."

 

Her soft fingers began rubbing olive oil into the sensitive spot just under the head of my penis.

 

"Don't come, now, baby." Marguerite looked seriously at me, as she continued to rub. At this point I could've used my orgasm to put out a forest fire.

 

My thighs began to tremble and shake. I almost took my hands out from behind my back, but I remembered that holding them together was "honor handcuffs"

 

Marguerite kept rubbing around my frenum, and my cock alternated between numbness and extreme sensitivity.

 

" Don't cum yet.if you cum now, I'll make Clovis whip your weiner with a belt." I looked over at her frustrated, jealous husband and he was smiling gleefully. He'd love getting back at me for all the attentions I'd received from his wife in the last few months.

 

All the friendship he and I had, all the confidences, the fishing trips we'd been on and the ball games we'd gone to when Goddess allowed it, all that bonding meant nothing in the battle for Marguerite's attentions.

 

She saw what I was thinking, and as she stroked my cock harder, toying with one of the more purplish veins she said

 

"Clovis can hit quite hard darling, he's wielded the belt on a few of my slaves..but if you wait til I let you cum in front of the guests, there will be no punishments, and I'll even let you jerk off a second time."

 

A second time. Not since I was fifteen had I valued jerking off so much.but this incredible handjob she was giving me was causing me to want to cum NOW.

 

Marguerite wasn't slowing her hand down, either, if anything, she was even worse, now tickling my shaft and tugging the cock ring to get me harder.it was up to me. I had to re-gain mental control over my cock.

 

I closed my eyes and thought about Niagra Falls, about the time my friends and I had taken a weekend there, and gone under the falls in raincoats with a guide, and how cold it was.oooh was it cold.

 

My dick wilted a little, but those soft fingers.they were driving me CRAZY. Cold snowball fights.

 

I thought of cleaning the garage. I thought of my ex-mother in law.pee-pee wilted more. I remembered my prostate milking by Richard "Boy" W___, Marguerite's hairdresser, and all sexual interest died. I was flaccid for the first time in days.

 

"Congratulations." Marguerite smiled, though her eyes looked a little disappointed. I think she is not used to having a limp dick in her hand.

 

"You are now in some control of your dick.perhaps at some point I can just have a psychological cage on you. " She smiled and patted my balls very slightly.

 

She knew that though my dick was flaccid, the testicles were even more full. I dropped to my knees. "Please, Goddess.my nuts!" She laughed.

 

"Well, I guess it's time for your ejaculation in front of the guests, eh?" Oh please, I thought.I wanted to climax so badly. She turned to Clovis, who looked disappointed.

 

"What's wrong, you bully.wanted to beat his dick, did you?" Alarmed Clovis almost dropped the oregano.

 

"No, no Mistress." Marguerite lauged. "Maybe I'll let lambie beat your dick instead." I was thrilled and Clovis was distraught.

 

She'd started this little rivalry up between us.but wasn't finished.

 

"Maybe I'll even let him FUCK me tonight.You've not got that since you bought me my 2000 Camaro." Clovis dropped the pasta in boiling water and burst into tears.

 

We went back out into the living room, the guests were discussing me, I could hear bits of

 

".He needs Depo-Provera.Marguerite keeps him like a pet.did you see his dick, it's like, vermillion colored.I think I might recognize him from the Hill.too tall to be George W. though?Maybe Rumsfeld?"

 

Marguerite led me into the living room, and all conversation died and they looked at me. The stenographer type was smirking. I felt my dick rising again. "I hope you're all enjoying yourselves.

 

It is now shorn lamb's time." Marguerite smiled especially at one young man, the one who'd handed her the fly swatter. Were they sleeping together? She had many lovers, normal men who got all the orgasms they liked.

 

"It is now shorn lamb's time to release himself." Marguerite said.

 

"You're going to let him spooge in front of us?" A shaggy looking fellow, who I think is in the pro-marijuana lobby asked incredously.

 

"Marguerite, that's so gross. Why don't you blow him? I mean, no offense, but I guess it's no secret at a party like this, man.you give a mean blowjob, honey."

 

Several of the men nodded assent. I felt so depressed.she blows everyone else, but I'm not allowed to cum.

 

"Gary, I feel so honored by your compliments." Everyone laughed, and Marguerite went on.

 

"Lambie is a slave-boy.they don't deserve blowjobs. I would rather blow Clematis over there?" she gestured at the sleeping bulldog?than put my mouth on that pencil between his legs."

 

Wait, I thought she said I was big. "Lambie hasn't cum since New Year's Day, and I want him to get the opportunity finally.

 

I promised him in the kitchen that it's his big chance now, and he might get an additional treat after that." I was now harder than I'd been when she rubbed me with the slick olive oil.

 

What kind of treat? I know she was just kidding when she said what she said to Clovis, or was she?

 

"All right darling.on your knees" I sank to the hard wood floor gratefully. "On your mark (giggle) get set .GO!"

 

She'd not directed me to use my left hand, so I began pumping with my right. I closed my eyes again.Oh, it would be so good to cum.if I `d complained about the intense leaden weight of my balls in the past few weeks, I'd get "milked" again, so I'd been quiet about it, but it would be so good to get the semen out the FUN way.

 

And the olive oil that Marguerite had rubbed on my dick made it even more lubricated..oh, I felt the familiar surge , oh yes.

 

All of a sudden I felt a wet, cold something-or-other nudging the tip of my erection.

 

I opened my eyes, and it was that damned bulldog. "Oh.Clematis has smelled the olive oil." Marguerite announced to the now laughing guests.

 

"I rubbed a little on lambie in the kitchen, and look at this! Hands behind your back, darling, let Clematis have a taste."

 

For the next three minutes I had to kneel naked before some of Washington's elite, who were laughing hysterically while a drooling, wrinkled, ugly as SIN bulldog began slurping around, and of course I was still erect.

 

Clematis eventually finished his disgusting procedure on my cock and ambled back to his sleeping place, and I was allowed to masturbate some more.but then Clovis served dinner!

 

And I had to stop AGAIN and wait in the corner. Marguerite gave me a peanut butter sandwich to chew on.and I counted the minutes until dinner was over, and the spectator show continued.I really needed to cum.

 

"All right, baby." Marguerite called me. "Come out of the corner. Dinner didn't take too long did it?only an hour and a half..back there, on your knees.

 

Now I was out of my mind with lust.I just wanted to cum.Marguerite aroused me tremendously with her tight glittery dress, the stenographer had a leather miniskirt on and one of those frilly tops, and the other women were similarly attired. But I was aroused by a picture of a bowl of fruit on the wall.everything aroused me..and I needed to cum.

 

Marguerite must've noticed my plaintive look for she gave me permission to continue stroking, oh, did it feel good. the leather cock ring was intensely accentuating the rush I was getting, but I was worried that one of the veins in my dick might burst!

 

I remembered when I had a sports car, a wife and several girl friends. I'd pick up salesgirls at Victoria's Secret while purchasing lingerie for one of the other women.

 

Once, when I was single, a bar pickup asked me why I had make-up in my bathroom (it belonged to my fiancée) and I said it was my mother's and the young lady didn't believe me, so I threw her out of the apartment until she begged to come back in, apologizing for being so nosy.women called me the "Silent Predator.

 

I was referred to by one woman as the type of man who only "dated" between one and three in the morning.

 

I've given all that up to masturbate naked on a rug in a wig and high heels in front of a group of laughing strangers.

 

Finally, I was approaching orgasm once again. My hand felt sprained from all the jerking, my cock was dying to burst, the leather ring cutting a vicious streak of pain into the testicles, but here it came, the train was shooting into the station.

 

I began to quiver..Oh, God, wouldn't this be wonderful, and then maybe a treat afterwards! Oooh! Splash!

 

I was suddenly doused with the melted water in one of the ice buckets for the drinks. Marguerite had silently motioned one of the guests, that damned Ken, to do this. But why? I looked up at my Goddess miserably.

 

"You took too long, lambie.and the guests have to leave now." Indeed, they were putting their coats on to go.

 

The pitying look of the big-haired stenographer was upon me as Ken helped her into her jean jacket. Marguerite helped me up, and I felt the click of a handcuff on my right wrist.

 

"Put your arms behind your head, baby." I obeyed, numbly, and Marguerite clicked the other cuff. I stood like this, the high heels at this point killing me (how do women wear them? I remember kyboshing a plan for the female staffers in my office to wear flats on Casual Friday.maybe I should've listened) Marguerite dismissed the last guest.

 

She opened the kitchen door. "Clovis, darling?" Clovis came out, he'd been sweating over doing the dishes. He glowered at me.

 

"Sweetheart, remember how lambie was going to whip your ass.and screw me?" Clovis nodded, his jaw tightening. Now remember, I didn't say any of this, SHE did. I was an innocent..though I'd hoped it would turn out that way.

 

Couldn't Clovis detect Marguerite's treachery? I mean, the man is a partner in a law firm.where's his logic? I remembered once a woman telling me that a man's big head was between his legs.

 

"Clovis, I promised Lambie that I was going to let him cum, but he took too long."

 

Marguerite's voice tinkled. "Here is the key to your chastity tube, Clovis, unlock yourself, it's been a long time.." Clovis took it gratefully.actually kissing the key.

 

Marguerite continued " Why don't you take lambie downstairs, give his dick the whipping I was discussing in the kitchen, and you can cum in his mouth as many times as you want before tomorrow morning.When was the last time you came, dear? November?"

 

"But Goddess" I whined, "I've done nothing wrong, I only obeyed you?" Marguerite smiled again "I know."

 

"But please don't put me through this.you said I could cum! You said."

 

Marguerite looked directly at Clovis, who put his arm on my shoulder and began guiding me towards the basement. I tried to struggle, but I couldn't move my arms from behind my head.

 

"He's hysterical, darling..you know what to do. Don't let him cum for anything. His hands are trapped behind his head, you'll have a clear shot at his wee-wee..make him dance.I think I have a nice scourge down there, you can try that, as well and make him suck you over and over again.And you can put gerbils in his ass, darling..or even my speculum."

 

Speculum? What's a speculum?

 

Did I deserve this? The time in the basement with Clovis and the belt, and then his dick, AND THE SPECULUM, what a horrible skull- fucking he gave me, was unendurable, he came four times. My jaw will be numb for weeks.And I still haven't cum..She promised. Don't you all think that Marguerite treated me unfairly. Shouldn't I get to cum?