A Month in the Highlands
Chapter 1
I was recently shipped to Glasgow, a dark and dreary city in Scotland,
to spend a full month as Mistress Maggie's sex toy and body slave. She had won
me at a get together in London, having bet my perfect Mistress that she could
break me before the establishment closed for the day. I failed my perfect
Mistress miserably, and she became so distressed that she doubled the time of my
stay with Mistress Maggie and announced that there were no conditions to my
servitude.
Mistress Maggie decided to take her at her word and had already told me
that she would do something to prevent me from ever having erections again,
perhaps even having me castrated, or worse still, fully converted into a
feminized maid. In that treatment my balls would be first crushed, then a few
days later hot irons would be used to burn the damaged mass of flesh away. Next
my penis would be flayed completely, coated with layers of acid jelly for
approximately two days, then what remained would be burned away with electric
needles. According to her, if done properly, the sub, namely me, would be
conscious and in excruciating pain for the entire process. I blanched at the
prospect of surviving such torments.
In parallel I would receive massive injections of female hormones and
sex stimulants that would result in the development of large breasts that would
be further enhanced with injections of irritants and toxins that would cause
addition swelling. Despite my inability to ejaculate the sex stimulants were
designed to keep me in a sexual frenzy for which there could be no relief.
My vocal cords would be surgically shortened to produce a voice of a
much higher pitch. My facial features would be transformed with the aid of
collagen injections as well as the scalpel, and my body would undergo a variety
of procedures to supply me with a nicely rounded ass and hips, as well as a flat
stomach. The aforementioned operations would be performed without the benefit of
anesthetic, instead depending upon proper use of restraints to keep me steady
while my flesh was cut away, rearranged and molded into new and more erotic
contours. Every hair on my body would be removed using electrolysis, a very
painful process that literally burns the follicle down to the skin level and
then follows the root to its base, burning everything away as the acid solution
migrates to the base of each hair root.
A special surgical procedure would create a nearly fully functional
vagina located in the region formerly housing my penis and testicles. It would
be angled slightly differently and sheathed with a special artifical skin giving
it the texture of a normal cunt. It would even be equipped with a lubricating
system that would operate once my "vaginal" cavity was fully filled with
whatever toy, tool or organ that was being used on it.
I must confess the prospect of being able to fully service both men and
women excited me no end. This was not lost on Mistress Maggie who amused herself
by seeing how much humiliation and degradation I could endure. She had me caned
for thirty minutes every morning and again before I was stored for my rest
cycle. My bottom was soon a blistered mass of pulpy, raw flesh that constantly
oozed all manner of liquids. My penis was tortured for hours each day, usually
when it could no longer get hard enough to satisfy the mistresses or their
friends.
Mistress Maggie had a wide circle of mistress friends. Most of these
goddesses also had friends who enjoyed abusing me. Many of the mistresses had
figures that were utterly awesome to me. I have always been attracted to women
with large breasts and fleshy bodies, perhaps due to my first and greatest love,
my mother, who taught me much in the ways of pleasuring the superior sex. I
remember the happy times when I would be allowed to lick her perfect cunt and
suck her perfect asshole for hours on end as she manipulated my penis, never
allowing me to cum, but always giving me the hope that one day I would be
allowed to squirt my seeds onto her perfect body. My dream was never fulfilled.
It wasn't until many years later that I realized my perfect mother-mistress only
loved her own kind, despite the fact that I was of her womb.
Today was to be decision day on my fate according to what the other
mistresses told me. As a result there were quite a few of them assembled to have
their way with me for perhaps the last time, or at least until my transformation
or castration were completed and I had healed.
My morning caning was extended since most of the mistresses wanted one
last go at my bleeding, oozing ass. For nearly an hour they took turns giving me
as many of the best as they could deliver in their allotted time. On this
occasion I was fixed to the praying bench which allowed the ladies easy access
to my mouth while I was taking the cane. My nose and tongue were buried in their
fragrant mounds, burrowing deep inside to take my mind away from the agony being
generated as bits of flesh were literally beaten from my bleeding ass.
It grew even worse when someone brushed my bloody bottom with a cloth
soaked in some astringent solution that made me feel as if my hind end was
aflame. The pain was so bad that I lost control of my bowels and bladder, a rare
event and one that brought cheers as well as gasps from the assembled group. The
caning resumed with a fury I had never experienced. I began to sincerely doubt
that I might not survive this utterly vicious treatment. It was almost as if
they knew I was doomed and were determined to give me the type of sendoff that
would become the stuff of legends.
It was Mistress Maggie herself who announced time, perhaps saving me
from death. I had begun to tremble uncontrollably toward the end and it was
starting to get very hard to see. Breathing was almost impossible, my face was
buried so deep into the hairy cunt of Mistress Clara that I was suffocating.
Perhaps this feeling of rapture, inhaling her scent and all the other elements
that made up her fabulous cunt may have prevented me from dying of asphixiation.
I recall that Indian mystics could go into a trance that allowed them to control
their breathing to the point that they could survive on as little as one breath
in a minute. When the cloth was again rubbed over my devastated ass I howled to
the skies and nearly broke free of the thick leather straps that held me while I
was caned. To my amazement, within minutes the level of pain had dropped
substantially and the maddening pulsations from all the damaged flesh receded as
well.
Then it was off to the bathroom for breakfast. Even though I have been
here for more than two weeks, I still have not become accustomed to the food
that these people consume. It is made doubly difficult since all my food and
water has to pass through the mistresses before I am allowed to partake of it.
In point of fact had I not been receiving so many enemas from the various
mistresses I'd likely have swollen up like a balloon from everything they were
feeding me.
This morning I was once again properly attached to the large commode. My
arms were pulled back and cuffed together behind the base of the throne and my
head bent back into the correction position. I was now ready to accept the
delicious offerings of the mistresses who chose to feed me. The ladies lined up,
led as usual by Mistress Jana.
Mistress Jana, a frail looking lady in her late 50s at least, makes it
her business to only do her business in my mouth. She is a most punctual
mistress, arriving prompty after my morning bout with the cane or canes,
depending upon who is in attendance. She places her puckered asshole to my lips
for a good morning kiss and an affectionate lick before the release of her first
day's urine, a torrent of strong smelling and tart tasting liquid that seems to
flow forever. She has this habit of moving her bottom a few inches each way as
she sprays her dark, golden stream down my throat, then pausing for perhaps a
minute before releasing another lengthy spurt. While she pauses I am expected to
busy myself cleansing her asshole that will soon be straining to release a
string of well formed turds that I must chew carefully before swallowing; under
no circumstances am I to gulp my food. Mistress Jana is most fastidious about
her personal hygiene and woe to the sub who fails to meet her exacting
standards.
Breakfast would be a rather lengthy process this morning based on the
number of mistresses waiting to feed me what might become my last meal. As usual
while I obediently chewed and swallowed, my penis was manipulated to produce the
first few spendings of the day. Under normal circumstances two ejaculations
would suffice. I would be allowed to lick my freshly milked semen from the
leather-gloved hand of the mistress who had induced it, sort of a palate
cleanser before more breakfast was served.
Today my twitching, throbbing sex organ was stimulated mercilessly,
nearly a continuous process of strong steady strokes that sooner rather than
later produced the desired effect. I had learned from Mistress Maggie that a
good sub was one who could become erect and remain in that state for lengthy
periods of time while the mistress amused herself with it. To guarantee this
type of situation, in a manner of speaking to take the edge off, the breakfast
exercise had been instituted for all subs.
My stomach became full to the point that I was experiencing quite a bit
of discomfort. The mistresses were not amused. Mistress Caroline, a massive
woman with pendulous breasts featuring the longest set of nipples I had ever
seen, became most displeased with my behavior. Her enormous hams hovered over my
upturned face while she jammed her finger down my throat. Even before the first
involuntary contraction began to propel portions of my large breakfast from me,
she lowered her massive weight against my open mouth, preventing the release of
that which had roiled up. I began to rapidly drown in my own vomit, as it had no
suitable outlet. At this moment, just before darkness overtook me I had a
tremendous spending that I was told had utterly astonished the mistresses. It
was almost as if I were being dropped from the gallows and had begun to sow my
mandrake seeds.
To my utter amazement I returned to the world of the living none the
worse for wear. I opened my eyes to see Mistress Maggie with an expression of
concern on her face, something I was not at all familiar with since my arrival.
She puffed her cheeks out and then said, " You didn't really think I would allow
you to escape so easily, did you now? I have much in store for you today, much
indeed. It will be akin to your visits to the club, all rolled into one." I
shuddered at her remark. The club was perhaps as close to hell as I have ever
experienced. In my brief visits it had already left me literally marked for
life.
(To be continued)