Dandyland Diaries (8 page)

When Charlie was sufficiently bathed and smelling like a little strawberry of love, it was time to get down to some very dirty business. I told Mark to go lie down on table. He lay down on
his back as I slid the panties down his legs. I bound his wrists to some cuffs near the top of his head and strapped his ankles to the legs of the table. His legs were spread wide apart and he looked shockingly exposed.

What happened to poor Mark next wa
s not very important in the grand scheme of things. Let’s just say that he left fully satisfied with a rosy-colored bum and thanking me repeatedly. All I had to do was clip some clothespins to his balls and that was all she wrote. He was done in a matter of seconds, the poor guy. He needed more training.

Chapter 10

In the next couple of months, my life became a little off kilter. I felt like I had a giant arrow balloon hovering around my head with the word “Freak” lit up in flashing lights. Everything that I had been doing and experiencing was so against the very core of my being. I have always been a “giver.” I had worked my whole life not to be perceived as a bitch and here I was putting collars on men and yanking them around by their pricks. I isolated myself from my friends a bit and resorted back to overeating to stuff down the guilt.

Sarah, who now lived just down the road, was exceedingly busy and had been traveling for nearly six months straight, so I hadn’t really seen much of her lat
ely. One day she texted me that she would be giving a reading of some of her work at a local writers' art space. She said she was too afraid to tell anyone about her reading, as she feared she would be a flop. She seemed genuinely scared. I felt so proud of her for doing it and offered to go with her. She politely declined my offer, but after some gentle nudging, we had made plans to go together. It was just what I needed. It was a night away from the subs begging for my attention and it was time I could spend with someone who knew me like no one else did.

It was a magical evening and Sarah brought the house down in tears with her poem. She had triumphed! I knew she would. We hung around afterward as she received several congratulations from adoring fans an
d chatted with people she hadn’t seen in years. She had retreated from this aspect of her life and she was welcomed back with wide-open arms.

I guess this gave me some courage. On the car ride home, we laughed about absurd ideas we had and hysterical situ
ations we had encountered since the last time we had seen each other. I suddenly said, “You know what turns me on? You know what turns me on?”

Sarah looked at me with the “I’m already agreeing with you because we are like the same person” look.

“Punching balls!” I blurted. We looked at each other for a couple of blinks of the eyes and then we both burst out laughing.

“Really?” She laughed as tears streamed down her face.

“Yep!” I was now laughing at her laughing at me. Did she think I was joking? Oh God… I think she did. “I’m serious!”

“Ow!” She giggled.

“I don’t know why I like it, but I do, and I’m having a blast.”

“I could never hit someone in the balls!” she said. She looked like someone had just punched
her
in the balls.

“I didn’t think I could either
and now I can’t stop!” I laughed.

“Are you being safe? Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“I think so,” I replied. I didn’t really know the answers to those questions. I thought I was okay. I was obviously wrestling with all sorts of deep-rooted issues, but I didn’t feel
not
okay. I had no idea if I was being safe. I was using condoms, if that was what she’d meant, and I didn’t feel like I was in danger.

“Well, then I think it rules!” She looked relieved. I knew she didn’t like it when I threw things
at her from left field. We both continued laughing until we couldn’t breathe and had to pull the car over to regain our composure.

I think that went pretty well. She claimed she still loved me and she hadn’t even taken away her magical key to her kingdom.

Now my real partner in crime was a cheeky minx of a man named Simon, who was very much the guide to the stars in Hollywood. He was fun, charming, generous, and was basically my gay husband. He was up to speed on my online dating stories but didn’t know
about the sharp right turn it had all taken. He was always too happy to get a forwarded “dick pic” from me of some dude who was trying to impress me. Sometimes they were really gnarled up knobby lumps—one looked like a green Vienna sausage—but some of them were real prizewinners. I kept those for rainy days.

We would ride around town in my little convertible, pretending to scoop up any
unsuspecting young man with our giant pretend bear claws. We’d drive and spot some cute abductible guy and
swish
, out would shoot my friend's hand, swiping the air as if to scoop up the lad. So I didn’t think he would have any issues with my “coming out” to him as a Dominatrix.

I was right. Simon laughed as I told him all about slaves and boys in my panties and dick slapping
. He couldn’t get enough. If you ever want the world to know about your business, just tell your friend with the loosest pair of lips. So within a matter of minutes, I was outed to everyone. I wasn’t upset about it. Okay, I was a little upset because I didn’t give him permission to blast my personal life around to every Tom, Dick, and Harry. I was committed to being true to myself and to the people around me, so I swallowed the initial horrified bit of vomit that suddenly appeared in my mouth and went with it.

Suddenly I was the hit of the party. All anyone wanted to know or talk about was how I treated my slaves or what I did to them behind closed doors. I had actresses asking if they could sit in on a session and watch because they felt like it was something t
hey needed in their life. And just as suddenly, people started confessing to me their own experiences and fantasies with BDSM.

I began to realize that I was not alone in my strange new world. Could people even be a little jealous of my change?
Probably not, in reality. I was probably more like a train wreck they couldn’t look away from than a sexual hero. I didn’t care, though, which was refreshing. It was who I was and I couldn’t change that, so I owned it. I even gave spanking demos at parties when requested.

Simon was always giggly when I sent him a text message saying something
like, “I need a dog cage big enough for a person.” Or, “How handy are you with carpentry? I need a St. Andrews cross made.” Or just one simple word… “Slaves.” This meant that I was about to venture into a scene and that I would have delicious stories following soon.

He was usually speechless over the quality of man muffins I would get. Their bodies were all worked out hard and their cocks were even harder. After a while, though,
the hard bodies were not enough to sustain my interest. They needed to be able to take a firm hard kick to the balls to make the cut.

One day my phone chimed. “Hello, Goddess. This is Gavin. You probably hate me for not staying in touch, but I had a famil
y tragedy. If you are still interested, I would love to be at your service.”

Good things come to those who wait, or get distracted long enough to forget about good things. I had almost completely forgotten about that juicy nugget. Almost. I nearly choked
on the coffee I was drinking.
He’s back!

I texted him
back.
Hi, slut. I don’t hate you. Are you okay? I have a lot of experience with family tragedy if you want to talk about it.

Thank you, Goddess. I don’t like talking about my personal problems, but I’m
all right and I’m ready to be your bitch.

Are you sure you’re okay, slut? I’m worried.
I pushed a little out of sheer curiosity, I admit.

Yes, Goddess,
he replied.

When are you free?
I asked.

He texted:
I can come see you tomorrow if that works for you, Goddess.

That’s fine, bitch
, I wrote back.
I’ll text you my address. Be here at 4:00 p.m.

May I come earlier?
he asked.

No, slut. I have a meeting until 3:00.
I took hold of the reins firmly.

Maybe you could use me as a footstool?
he asked.

I said no! Come
at 4:00 p.m. and if I want you earlier, I will call for you earlier.
Jesus, Gavin… calm your nipples. He might have been even more excited than I was.

Yes, Goddess.
Did I hear a bit of a pout in that text?

Stop pouting
, bitch!
I wrote.

I’m not, Goddess. M
aybe just a little
, he replied.

The next day, I had a lot to accomplish before I met with Gavin. I raced around in the morning doing girly things like getting a pedicure and dying my hair. Then I had to buckle down with my writing partner and write some pa
ges with her. We had been writing a feature-length script together and we were on the final act. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to keep my mind on the task at hand and eventually she excused me from the call, sensing my mind was in a different place. I thanked her and repeatedly apologized for not being more productive. She didn’t know what I had been up to as of late, so I felt guilty for keeping it from her. Don’t worry, I didn’t keep it from her for very long, and she was completely supportive when I told her.

I got a text from Gavin at 2:00 saying he was close by and would be ready when I needed. He had traveled quite a distance and to avoid traffic, he had decided to try to beat it by leaving hours early. I let him wait. I had said 4:00 p.m. and I wasn’t
going to let things get off to a bad start by him getting his way so soon.

I sent him the instructions regarding how he should arrive at my place. I have kept a strict policy about all subs entering by the back door, naked. He was no exception to this rul
e. He would see me for the first time on his knees like all of my bitches do.

He knocked on the door, at the RIGHT door I might add. Charlie, of course, went bananas. I was all done-up in a dress that’s basically a stretchy tube with cut out holes all over
it; the holes peeked and teased the eyes to various parts of my body but covered the naughty parts nicely. I wore the obligatory insanely high heels that make a sub’s mouth water. My makeup was perfectly lined and wicked. My hair was in a high and tight ponytail. With my crop in hand, I purposely stomped loudly to the door and stopped just behind it. I gave him a minute for his anticipation to build, and then I opened the door.

“Look what we have here, Charlie,” I said to my little buddy. Charlie happily w
iggled around Gavin’s face and tried to give him kisses. Charlie was the man, but he gave it up too quickly. “Get in here, slut!” I said sharply to Gavin. Gavin crawled into my apartment.

Chapter 11

I was not overly impressed with what I saw, but I wasn’t disappointed either. He wasn’t in the most fantastic shape, even though he surfed every day and fought fires for a living. He didn’t have ripped abs or bulging thigh muscles, but what he had was the most gorgeous of all cocks. It was a prized beauty and it was awake and ready to play.

I made him kiss my feet for a bit and he did so like his life depended on it. He looked up at me to see if I was pleased. I glared back down at him to make sure he knew
I meant business.

I walked him to the center of the room and made him bow for me. He did it pretty well. I corrected him on his form, however. As I was learning, I realized that I was a stickler about protocol. I wanted to be known as a refined Domina, o
ne that cared about the details and due diligence. I would've loved for Dommes to know that a sub had been trained by me just by the perfect way he moved and served.

Um, okay… I know that was a weird moment. I got a little carried away there. Now back to
Gavin’s exceptional body part. He was bowing with his head touching the floor. I went behind him and started tapping his balls between his legs since his ass was pointed up in the air. Balls are so nice and heavy and they make a really satisfying “thud” when hit just right.

He gave a little pleasure moan when I hit again. I told him to get up on all fours. When he did, I noticed that his clit was dripping. It wasn’t just dripping; it was running like a faucet. I’d never seen anything like it. “Wow, slut!”
I laughed. “You’re dripping everywhere!”

“I know, Goddess. I have been leaking all day thinking about being here. My pants are soaked,” he said with a bashful laugh.

I got out a ball weight from my toy box that was meant to give a nice stretch to his testicles. I used an Allen wrench to fit it properly. It was made of shiny stainless steel and it fit perfectly.

“Stand up, slut,” I ordered. “I want to look at you.”

“That feels really good on my balls, Goddess,” he said. “Thank you.”

I sized him up. In my
heels, I felt at equal height with him. His eyes were blue and his hair was shaved very short and very slave-like. He had many tattoos on his body but no piercings. His skin was tanned on his arms and face and light where his wetsuit covered him. His pubic hair was shaved off. I had told him to do that; I hated messing around with pubes unless I was plucking them out one by one. His cock continued to drip.

I grabbed his cock hard as I stared into his eyes. I could tell he wouldn’t resist anything that I ch
ose to do to him. I pulled down firmly with my hand, seeing if he would flinch. He didn’t. He waited for my next move.

“Get on your knees, bitch,” I ordered. He obeyed.

When he was on his knees, I tied his hands behind his back and secured his ankles together. I then tethered them together, putting a nice slight forward arch in his back. I stood in front of him, lifted my barely there skirt, and put my pussy up close to his nose. He breathed in deeply and his eyes rolled back. I grabbed the back of his head and shoved his face into my crotch, daring him to move. He didn’t. He awaited my command.

“Eat that pussy, slut,” I said as I ground my hips into his face. He licked away while making very “happy to be pleasing” noises. He had no choice but to do a good
job. My crop was behind him, slapping his ass when I wanted to correct what he was doing. His pain was my pleasure now. I hit him harder because I knew he wanted me to.

After about five minutes, I came. I straightened my skirt and adjusted my bra. His fac
e was wet from my excitement. His cock was still just as hard. I untied him.

“Get on that table, slut,” I commanded. We all know by now that I loved a good slut on my table. It was my favorite. It was my time to play doctor.

I tied him down on his back, his hands stretched above his head and his legs stretched uncomfortably apart. He was all mine now. The weight around his balls was tight, but I would like it tighter. I took it off and wrapped a single rope in a coil around his balls. They were stretched as far as I could take them. Then I put the weight back on.

“That feels so good, Goddess.” He moaned.

“Does this feel good too?” I asked as I hit him hard in the nuts.

He groaned. “Yes, Goddess.”

I smiled down at him. I got out a penis pump. I put it around his dick and started to suction out the air inside, causing him to swell beyond normal.

“What is that, Goddess?” he asked. “It feels so strange, like my dick is going to explode.” He strained to look at what had a hold of
him.

“Just a pump to plump up your clit,” I answered him. I hit the pump, causing his prick to jump around, and then I gave the pump another squeeze. His penis swelled in the cylinder.

He groaned again.

I decided to take it up a notch and I put a few clo
thespins on his already purple balls.

I ordered him to count as I put them on him.

“One!” He winced as I attached one.

“Two!” He breathed through the pain as I clipped on one more.

“Three, Goddess!” His eyes were shut tight so he could focus.

After I had a
bout twelve placed in a pretty design on his sack, the real pain began. Did you know that clothespins hurt even more when taken off? I did.

“Goddamn it, that hurts, Goddess!” he said. He was trying not to shake.

“There, slut,” I said smoothly. “All better now.” I let out the pressure of the pump with a hiss.

“That feels so intense, Goddess,” he said with relief.

I begin to stroke his harder and now bigger cock, but every once in a while, I would slap his balls for good measure. He was so yummy to me at this point that I reached for a condom, and with a flick of my wrist, it was on him. I crawled on top of him, smelling him, licking him like I was deciding whether or not to eat him. I lowered myself down on him, slowly, until he was deep inside of me. I sat there for a minute, staring into his eyes. His expression was one of complete submission. I didn’t dare move a muscle.

“I want to touch you, Goddess,” he whispered.

“You can’t. I don’t let loser sluts like you touch me,” I whispered in his ear. “Tell me what a slut you are.”

“I am your slut, Goddess.” He tried to move his hips around to move inside me.

“Be still, loser. Shhhh.” I taunted him by moving an inch.

“God, you are killing me, Goddess.” He begged, “Please.”

I got up off of him completely. I took off the condom and slapped his dick. “I don’t fuck sluts, loser.” I laughed. He tried to cover himself, but his legs were too spread apart to do any good.

I started to rub him again with lube from a nearby bottle. Then I hit him. The mixture of pleasure and
pain was really building his excitement. He licked his lips over and over again. I took my crop and delivered short, powerful blows to his balls. He gasped. I hit some more.

I bent over him, daring him to ask me for a release. He didn’t. He kept licking h
is lips over and over. I knew that he was close. I put my sharp heel on his chest as I bent over and touched his cock with my lips.

“Uh-uh-uh…. little subbie slut,” I taunted. “No cock sucking for you.” I took my mouth away and started pumping his dick aga
in.

“Please, Goddess.” He begged, “May I cum?”

I laughed at him, released my grip, and told him, “No!”

I got up, untied him and sat on the couch. Playtime was over… for now.

“I needed this so much, Goddess,” he said as he sat up, looking alert and happy.

I looked at him and smiled. “What’s been going on with you? Are you usually this flaky?” I asked. I was referring to him having disappeared for those couple of months without a trace.

He knew exactly was I was talking about. “I can be, Goddess,” he said. “I have been going through a lot of stuff and sometimes I just drop out for a while. I dropped out from my friends, too. Nobody heard from me. It wasn’t just you.”

“Well, okay. I’m not
sure what that’s all about, but I suppose it is none of my business,” I said. I really wanted to push it and find out what the hell had happened, but I could tell it wasn’t the time.

“I seriously feel like I’ve just had the most amazing workout.” Gavin b
eamed. “Sometimes this is so much better than any therapy I could have.” He sat on the table, naked, his penis now somewhat flaccid.

“You can just sit there naked.” I laughed.

“Lucky for you I love being naked.” He laughed as well.

I remembered something
. I reached over and got out a box from my toy chest. I handed it to him.

“Look what I got you, slut,” I said.

He opened up the box and inside was a brand new chastity device.

“Do you want to wear it?” I asked.

“Do you want me to wear it?”

“Definitely!”
I replied. “Put it on!”

The next hour was a hilarious struggle to put this plastic cage on his penis. We couldn’t figure out how it went on. It was like a Mensa puzzle. There were many interlocking various-sized pieces that we couldn’t decipher how to pu
t together. We even went on YouTube to see if there were any instructional videos for it. When we would get close to getting it on, he would get semi-hard and the whole thing would bust apart.

Finally, we got it together and he was in and I had the key on
my keychain. We decided to go out for dinner and take it for a test drive. He was very polite about opening doors and pulling chairs out for me, which I thought was sweet but didn’t dare show it because that was to be expected when a sub is with his Dominant. When he excused himself for the loo, I couldn't help but giggle knowing that was going to be a hard feat. He came back looking a little sheepish. I was right. It was hard.

We had a delicious dinner and chatted comfortably together. I asked him in a
raised voice if he liked being my locked-up bitch boy. He shook his head yes.

“Does it turn you on to know that you have total control over my clit?” he asked.

“Completely!” I said, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

He squirmed in his chair a bit. “It
’s getting a little tight, Goddess.”

“Aw, that’s too bad," I taunted him. “Are you getting a little excited over there thinking about being my bitch?”

“A little bit, yes.” He winked. “You should have stayed on me just a little longer.” I knew he meant when I was straddling his cock.

We finished our meals and hurried back to my apartment. He asked if he could walk in the front door with me. I thought about it and said he could.

When the door closed, I barked, “Strip!”

He quickly obeyed and we saw that we
had done a terrible job of putting the device on him. It had slid nearly off and was just dangling there uselessly. I got the key and released him.

“Thank you, Goddess,” he said.

I told him to go sit back down on the table. He immediately did so. I loved how he could be totally my equal in one moment and drop to my feet in another. I could tell by the expression in his eyes that it was true submission too. He truly meant it.

That night, he stayed over. I used him in every way that I knew. He told me how h
e was my slut and my slut only. We went to sleep exhausted, and he went to sleep extremely unsatisfied, but that for him was satisfying. While he slept, Gavin kept murmuring, “Yes, Goddess.” I liked that very much.

The next day I got messages from him sayi
ng how much he liked being with me in “that” way and that it was very special for him. He said that he knew he couldn’t ask me to be faithful to him but that he wanted to be mine. Again… Pants… Soaking.

He came back the next week and we played together for
a couple of hours. While we were relaxing between scenes, I asked him about what the family tragedy was. I just couldn’t let that go.

He finally gave it up. He started reluctantly telling me about his ex-girlfriend. He prefaced the story by telling me ho
w he and his girlfriend had fallen madly in love. It was a sweet story. He was young and I am sure this was his first experience with love, and like most young love, it faded.

He told me about how they had split but remained close friends, teetering
between being on and off again lovers. He told me how one night he was supposed to go out with his friends to a concert near where his girlfriend lived. She had come home from a deep tissue massage not feeling very well. She had been having severe neck pains for several days and thought the massage would help. Gavin had offered to stay with her, but she declined the offer, telling him he should go have fun. So he went, but something told him that he should turn around and go back to her once he got to his friend’s house. He said it was a very odd feeling. So he begged off from the concert and his night out and returned home.