by Lena Austin
Calder and Kelly each received a bundle of leather strips on a handle from their attendants. Floggers, Ruben suddenly remembered from reading The Tie that Binds.
Kelly handed Calder a blue and gold one. Ruben didn’t get it when Calder chuckled and handed Kelly a red and black one.
The official smiled and pronounced them man and wife. The cheers that erupted didn’t stop Calder from yanking Kelly to him for a kiss that should have raised the indoor temperature by ten degrees.
When the kiss finally broke, Calder and Kelly turned to the crowd and said, “Let us proceed to the reception!” They grabbed each other’s leash and paraded down the aisle to applause.
Ruben leaned over to the lady next to him as the happy couple led their guests to the sumptuous wedding feast and reception. The cool-looking matron sitting next to him was regally waiting for the crowd to thin.
“Pardon me, madam,” Ruben asked, “but could you explain to me why no one escorted the bride to give her away?”
The silver-haired matron raised one perfectly sculptured eyebrow. “The Black Widow gives herself away, young man!”
Spinnerette
Lena Austin
Dante came to Black Widow for Domination lessons… but that doesn’t mean he only gets to watch.
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to take BDSM lessons? Wonder no more. I’ll tell you.
Spinnerette
We arrived early on that cold October day, just in time to help Kelly finish preparing lunch for her students. I was an advanced Domination trainee and was there to play the Assistant. Dante, likewise, had almost finished his training and was there mainly as my companion. Kelly was known nationally as The Black Widow, an award-winning Dominatrix who had recently retired from her professional work. As usual, she was dressed in more comfortable Domination clothes than what she might wear while actually performing. A black leotard and black jeans sufficed for a simple demonstration.
After lunch, Kelly launched into her lesson on “rope clothing,” often referred to as rope dresses or rope harnesses. She demonstrated various knots using a simple cotton clothesline. One of the three new students was having difficulty visualizing how rope clothing could be sensuous in a bondage situation, especially on a male. This new group of apprentices had only recently mastered the techniques that kept play legal and safe. Therefore, they could now learn the techniques used on the human body.
Kelly asked Dante if he would consent to submit, and demonstrate the uses. Dante, of course, knew what was in store for him if he agreed. He was more than happy to assist, stood, and stripped off his clothes. I took his shirt and winked at him as a collective sigh arose at the sight of his smooth, nearly hairless chest and six-pack abs. He muttered to me, “Those workouts just paid off.”
Dante is over six feet tall, well hung, broad-shouldered, with long, blond hair. The other trainees knew him only as another Dominant, and were shocked when he knelt naked at Kelly’s feet. He crossed his wrists over his head in the traditional manner that signals a temporary submission. Kelly grasped his crossed wrists in traditional acceptance. Even I, who had seen him submit before, found it titillating to see a man who resembled the stereotypical, blue-eyed Viking kneel before a woman. The eyes of the students lingered on his sculpted, concave butt and long legs.
Under normal circumstances, such a ritual would not be needed. Dante and I had both submitted when we became Kelly’s pupils. However, the apprentices were unaware of that, since Dante and I did not wear collars. As advanced students, we wore necklaces that were little more than thin silver chains. The traditional ritual showed the novices that Dante submitted to the tiny, brunette woman who barely came to his brown nipples when he stood.
Kelly ordered, “Stand with your back to the door and spread your legs. Place your palms flat against the door and do not remove them.” Her blue eyes twinkled with good humor.
“Yes, Mistress.” He rose gracefully and did as ordered.
She left the room, allowing the apprentices a few moments to admire a handsome man splayed out. No one moved or touched him. Already he was growing hard, knowing what awaited him. The students’ eyes grew hungry.
Kelly returned with a long, well-used version of the laundry-line rope she had been demonstrating with. I knew that rope well. After so much use and washings, it was soft, like a brushed cotton boll, newly picked. Expertly, she formed a loop at one end.
Dante’s cock was now quite hard, and the tip lay nearly flat against his lower belly. Kelly slipped the rope over the purple tip and tightened the loop just below the head. Dante’s cock twitched, but he made no sound. He closed his aquamarine eyes and set his jaw. There would be no pain, as he well knew, only pleasure and stimulation.
Kelly slowly began to wind the rope as if she were wrapping a candy cane, covering his entire shaft from top to bottom. Only the engorged tip and his balls remained visible when she was done. The rest of the rope, easily several feet in length, dangled between his balls. Kelly held the end in her hand.
She blew on his nipples, and the rope tugged in her hand, signaling he was easily stimulated. She already knew this, as did I, intimately, but that simple action proved it to the apprentices. Their lusty smiles turned anticipatory.
Kelly gave one small tug of her own on the rope. “You may moan, and you may speak. Tell the novices what the rope is for.”
Dante opened his eyes. He turned his head to the students. “The rope restricts blood flow. I will have a full erection, but there cannot be any orgasm, nor will I be able to soften until my Mistress removes the rope. I may come only when she permits it.”
Dante’s eyes were beginning to glaze over. He was entering the submissive’s trance known as subspace.
Kelly tsked. “Such a potty mouth. He used ‘come’. How like a man! We are ladies, Dante. You need reminding.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
She threaded the rope between his balls and then his legs, patting his hip to tell him to move away from the door. He stood upright and took one half-step away from the support. Kelly measured with her eyes and put a knot in the rope. She belted the rope around his waist, and the knot fit snugly against his anus. He squirmed for a moment, and his eyes told me he was inches away from complete subspace. It was a trick Kelly used often, and would later use to ensnare her future husband.
Kelly turned to her apprentices. “As you well know, the male’s G-spot is located in his rectum. One of the most sexually stimulated places on his body is his anus. The knot I made now rests firmly against Dante’s anus. Doesn’t it, Dante?”
Dante moaned. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Return to the door.”
Dante sank back to the door with alacrity. He kept his legs spread, and his palms slapped against the wood.
Kelly opened a small suitcase where she kept sensual stimulation items. I took what she removed and placed the objects on the decorative table by the door. A candle already resided on the table, so I pulled my lighter from my pocket and lit it. It would probably not be used, since I’d not been ordered to prepare his skin for wax play. The scent of the candle alone would be stimulation enough as Dante anticipated the warm wax dripping on his skin. When the chosen items were laid out, I returned to my seat so everyone would have a clear view.
Kelly chose first a liquid breath freshener concentrate. She held it up and showed it to the novices and then to Dante. “One drop of this on the head of his penis will stimulate the nerve endings, making him sensitive even to air currents.” She suited words to action, and one tiny drop glistened before disappearing into the slit. I saw Dante swallow, hard.
Next, Kelly picked up an ostrich feather. Nods and eager grins from the pupils showed they recognized it from previous lessons. Dante bit his lip as the feather flicked the head of his penis, and then each of his separated balls. The stroking movement of the feather did not tickle, as I well knew, but rather softly raised the awareness of every nerve ending.
A groan escaped Dan
te’s lips. His eyes were half-closed, and the tip of his penis was dark with blood that could enter, but not leave. His eyes were now looking far away, signifying he was in a full trance, his senses fully aware while he floated in a sea of pleasure and stimulation without the benefit of release.
A rabbit fur mitt was next on Kelly’s list of toys. With a large portion of Dante’s cock encased in rope, she caressed his entire body instead. Nipples, that firm butt, and his balls got special attention.
Kelly paused. “What color, Dante?” This stoplight color-code system allows even the most entranced submissive to tell the Dominant how close they are to the end of tolerance.
Dante writhed, but did not remove his hands or step away from the door. “Green.” I could tell he was close, but he’s a trooper. He would go to the very edge before begging for release, bless him.
“Good. Very well, we will continue.” Kelly picked up her final toy. It was a tiny flogger with a short handle. The threads on it were composed of six-inch embroidery silks, made by her own hands. It was not made for pain, and was never used for such. She showed it to Dante, and he threw his head back against the door.
He knew the exquisite pleasure those silk strands could cause, and awaited his fate. Nevertheless, he did not beg.
Kelly flicked her gaze at me, and then at the refrigerator just inside the kitchen door. I had my orders. Silently, I left the room and retrieved two ice cubes. I placed them carefully in a bowl I found in the dish drainer, and returned to stand on the other side of Dante, out of the way. Kelly nodded approval. She used the silken flogger gently, laying the strands softly across the purple head of his cock, and dragging them slowly toward her. Dante bit his lip and moaned. Every little strand caressed his sensitive flesh with tenderness. Still, he refused to give in.
Kelly and I smiled at one another. She flicked the little flogger, laying the strands more forcefully as they wrapped around his balls. Dante jerked and moaned louder, quivering from head to foot. Again, and then a third time, the colorful strands caressed his sensitive sac.
Kelly looked up and made sure Dante would not faint. His eyes were unseeing, and he continued to shake, but still he bit his lip. “Stubborn,” she purred. Dante acknowledged the compliment with a curve of his lips.
Kelly raised one eyebrow at me, and I picked up an ice cube. Instead of taking it herself, she nodded and looked at Dante’s hardened nipples. We each attacked a nipple, overloading him with differing sensations. Kelly caressed his left nipple with the silky-smooth strands and I rubbed the other with the edge of an ice cube. The kicker, though, was when Kelly reached behind and twitched the rope, causing the knot to rub Dante’s anus.
Dante gasped once, then cried out. “Yellow! I give! Please let me… orgasm! I beg it!”
The novices applauded, acknowledging both Kelly’s skill and Dante’s fortitude. I dropped the ice cube back in the bowl and returned it to the kitchen. Kelly unwound the rope slowly and gently until Dante was free. He leaned against the door, his breath rasping harshly.
With a wave of her hand, I was permitted to lead him to the spare bedroom. He was quick to throw me on my back and attain the release he had earned.
I couldn’t wait for Kelly’s next lesson.
Safe, Sane, and Consensual
Author’s Note: The author assumes the reader understands a work of fiction may imply the use of condoms and contraceptives to prevent anything that may require the services of a doctor or lawyer without my having to break the mood to say so. Please use all sanitary and safety measures to prevent awkward and unnecessary consequences.
In fond memory of the real “Black Widow,” who was more than a teacher. She was my friend. I miss you, Kelly.
Lena Austin
Someone cursed Lena Austin with “may you have a life so full you’ll have many tales to tell your grandchildren.” Lena’s a “fallen” society wench with a checkered past. She’s been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba -- she’s got a lifetime of “Research material!”
Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won’t listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something?
Lena at Changeling: changelingpress.com/lena-austin-a-11
