“Well, we’ve danced all night,” said Mistress Glory, “It’s your turn boy!”
On his knees, at the foot of the sofa where they sat, he looked up at startled.
“You mean he dances?” Wishia queried, putting her cup down
“He didn’t, but he’s being trained to dance. You’ll see! Why else do you think I have him wear the slave bells?” Mistress Glory giggled. She motioned him over.
He rose with a rustle of slave bells and stood before his Mistress.
“You can see him in his full glory too, out of this!” she tapped the plastic of his chastity device.
“Ohhh this `I’ve gotta see!” Wishia laughed, clapping her hands.
“Please Mistress, not this, not now!” he pleaded. Mistress Glory had been teaching him the tile dance, a dance where the slave put themselves through a fluid motion comprising many of the formal slave positions but never rising higher than their knees. Often commanded under quick fire orders, known as putting a slave through their paces, it was a good method for judging a slave’s training, skill and suppleness. While the slave paces are often entertaining for any on-lookers, as part of a tile dance, they were about pure entertainment.
“Silence kajirus! You are no longer a man, but a beast that exists only for the whim’s of women. You will do what I wish.”
They were drunk, he didn’t know how much. Serving them both with coffee was cool, maybe sucking and licking at their feet, which is what he had anticipated would have been required would have been fun, as was his anticipation of serving one or both in their bedroom later; while dancing was going to be humiliating. Despite his lessons, he was hardly proficient; this was more about his humiliation and their amusement. Mistress Glory demanded total passion from him in his dancing, expecting his ongoing denial of sexual frustration to be utilized as a fundamental show of need in his dance.
Taking a key from her purse, Mistress Glory fiddled with the key in the lock of the device, before roughly pulling it from him. “Now, get out on the patio, perform the tile dance that you are learning pet!”
He bowed, then turned. After only a few steps, Mistress Glory called after him, “Shut the French Windows behind you pet. If you don’t please us, you will forfeit the right to sleep inside to night.”
Stepping outside, he drew shut the large glass panel with a low thud. It was cool outside, the cherry patio tiles smooth beneath his bare feet. He turned and faced the window, seeing them both inside the house.
They were both up and off the sofa, Mistress Glory was locking the French Windows, Wishia at the light switch. Suddenly the room was plunged into darkness and he was bathed in the patio lights. He brushed a bug from his thigh.
Mistress Glory’s voice came to him through the glass, “What are you waiting for kajirus? We said dance, now dance!”
He took a deep breath. He was nude, collared and belled and about to dance form women, it was at once both thrilling and dismaying. He had already learnt the pole dance, but his lessons in the tile dance were still at early stage. He took another deep breath, running through the rudiments of a dance. He longer for some accompanying music, at least a beat.
To the signal the start of his dance, he clapped his hands. He bent over and kissed the tiles, lowering himself to the tiles. Flinching at the cool contact with his bare flesh, he forced his mind to traverse across from rational human thought to compliant kajirus service; a mind set which allowed him to only review and dwell on his actions retrospectively. He filled his mind with images of Mistress Glory’s toes, her feet, her insteps, her legs, her arse, her breasts, her face; thoughts of pleasuring her stoked his lust. Suppressed for nigh on two months now, it did not take much to inflame. Between his thighs his manhood stirred, thickening free from pain, free from the dreaded device the first time in three weeks. He trained with it in place, the freedom now, the one bonus of night.
He moved then, only to the sound of the bells secured about his ankles, turning, upon the tiles. He imagined in his dance, that he was pleasuring Mistress Glory, on his belly as if worshiping her feet; on his knees before her, on his back writhing and bucking as if mounted beneath her, curled up as if cowering from the whip for poor service, bending backwards as if displayed for viewing pleasure.
Inside the house, Wishia watched captivated by the naked slave’s performance, as his sleek hips gyrated with elegant seduction, a pointed toe pressed to the tiles, shaking his foot to jangle the slave bells. “You trained him to do this?” she asked incredulously.
Mistress Glory nodded grinning.
Outside, on the patio as a core element of his dance, he paused with each differing posture, for a moment or so, motionless, posing, that they might feast their eyes upon his body. It was at these times, he occasionally heard the sounds of laughter. From the motionless pose he would start to slowly buck his hips more and more until, soaked in sweat, breathing heavily, he feverishly humped the cool air before him.
He was on his knees, head lent back, thighs widely split, thrusting his manhood skyward, when one them called out, “Do you beg our touch kajirus?”
“Yes Mistress!” he croaked, spinning about to all-fours before the window.
“Then squeal like a pig for us!”
He incorporated a squeal into his dance, matching it with his every thrust of his hips. As he debased himself for their amusement, tears filled his eyes, as he heard their shrieks of laughter.
Finding himself near some potted daffodils, he turned his head and tore one from the pot. Between his teeth he held the stalk and crawled towards the window, before finishing his dance, in a Gorean Bow, that had his face upside down facing them, proffering the flower, awaiting their verdict. Through gritted teeth, his chest heaved, sucking in air.
“Do you want to see some more?” Mistress Glory asked.
“Isn’t he spent?”
“Nothing a short break won’t put right. He can pole dance too.”
“What? No way! You taught a guy to pole dance?” Wishia shrieked.
“Yes way.” Mistress Glory grinned, “Watch this.”
Barefoot, Mistress Glory slipped form the sofa and disappeared
Wishia saw her a few minutes later, outside on the patio, positioning a tall wooden pole in the center of the patio, setting it in place.
Outside, the pole in place, looking at the upside down face of her kajirus, Mistress Glory spoke, “We will discuss your tile dance performance tomorrow. For now you can make up for it with a pole dance, you can start in one minute.”
She crouched, picking the daffodil from between his teeth. “Was this for me sweety or Wishia? I hope you’re not aspiring to either of us? You know that would piss me off, if I knew you were lusting after either your Mistress or one my friends. It seems you will require further lessons about male slave lust!”
He watched her swan off, his attention captivated by her barefeet, hating her for everything she demanded of him.
Tap. Tap. “Begin kajirus,” Mistress Glory called through the window.
He rose, wishing the tiles would swallow him up. He danced himself in an imaginary rhythm in a position directly in front of the pole. He fell to his knees, legs spread as wide as he could possibly spread them.
He stroked the pole with his manhood feeling the smooth wood. As he moved himself, over and over the wood, the ache in his loins to come became almost overwhelming. He had to tense his muscles to prevent it. He knew the shudder of the effort could be seen by Mistress Glory and Wishia as they reacted loudly in laughter to it. He moved on and thrust his skillful tongue, trained to perfection after hours of practice, across the pole’s center and darted it back and forth in a movement he learned as tongue movement 11 (out of 56) in his training. He then pressed his lips to the smooth wood, feasting on it, before letting out a loud moan and slowly thrusting at the wood again and again with his aroused manhood.
With each thrust of his hips against the unyielding pole, he yearned to be met by the powerful lunges of an insatiable Mistress Glory. He groaned with his unsatisfied need, arching against the pole, his quivering thighs thrusting wildly against it, his tormented body burning with the pain of his need.
He writhed upon his knees, moving around the tiles, pressing his trembling manhood to the ground too, his nails clawing at the tiles, demonstrating his desperation, his need.
Panting he crawled around the patio, glazed eyes lowered, leaning back, running fingers over his body, between his thighs, thrusting them open and up high into the air, he lay with his cheek turned to the side, arms in submission at his sides with palms facing the stars praying his Mistress would find him pleasing and grant him sexual release.
He lay, quietly, for some time, panting in exhaustion, his body covered with sheen of sweat, until Wishia popped her head out, beaming. “The owner and his head barmen, from the Italian restaurant we were at this evening, have just turned up. So Mistress Glory says you know the rules about you being in the house when real men are; so she’s says you’ll have to stay out here after all. Just as well it’s nearly summer. She also said to ensure you put these on, so you don’t take advantage of being out of your chastity device.” She threw a pair of handcuffs to the tiles.
“Pity as I really enjoyed your performance, and I do hate to see an erection go to waste.” she pouted, as she watched him cuff his hands behind his back.
She went to shut the sliding door, but paused, adding, “Ohh I almost forgot, Mistress Glory said that she would ensure to save any condoms for you, for recycling. Whatever that means? Anyway, nighty night, sweet dreams slave boy.” She blew him a kiss, then shut the door.
===
Slave was still asleep, huddled in a fetal position under the roof overhang of the house when Mistress Glory, his Mistress, emerged in her bathrobe. Giving him a little kick, she brought him awake. “Stand kajuris!” She ordered. He quickly became wide awake and raised himself first to his knees and then to a standing position at attention, with his back straight, shoulders back, head to the left and feet placed shoulder width apart. “Get the liquid soap, long handled brush, and alcohol from the utility room and then kneel under the pool shower – you may walk.”
As the kajirus moved quickly to carry out his orders the French door opened and Wishia appeared with two cups of hot liquid in her hands. “Well, she said as she handed one cup to Mistress Glory, I don’t know about you, but I had a lot of fun last night! it is funny, however, being with Urth males.”
Mistress Glory nodded in agreement and said “I know what you mean, they are neither dominant nor submissive. I doubt that either of them would do well on our world.” She was watching her slave carry the items he was sent to fetch to the tiled outside shower and assume the nadu position nearby.
Mistress Glory and Wishia moved over next to the kneeling kajirus. “Prostrate yourself and kiss our feet, boy!” Said Mistress Glory. She picked up the liquid soap and brush. Squirting a string of soap down the kneeling boy’s back she started to wash him with the brush. After scrubbing his head, shoulder, and back she moved around to his rear. “I miss a lot about not being at home on Gor, in Cos” she said to Wishia as she used the back of the brush to spank the inside thighs and forced his knees even further apart. “I miss not being able to use my real name here.” replied Wishia “But this is our assignment, to study these Urth people and report everthing of interest to the Priest-Kings.” Mistress Glory squirted soap directly on the brush and then began scrubbing between the kajirus’ legs and up and down his inner thighs. “At least they let us bring one trained kajirus each. I would have been so bored otherwise.” Mistress Glory replied.
“Sula-Ki, kajirus!” Mistress Glory commanded and the boy turned over on his back, knees up, spread widely and his hips lifted by his hands as high as possible. She was effectively “putting him thru his paces” and giving him a sound scrubbing all at once. She worked over his front as throughly as she had done his back. She re-scrubbed the parts hanging between his legs. “Now roll over on all fours, pet, and shake yourself dry like a sleen.” She said when he had been seriously scrubbed and rinsed.
While the kajuris moved and shook himself the two women retired to the two chaise lounges a few yards away. Looking at the slave and suppressing a laugh, Wishia said to Mistress Glory “I was impressed with the way you are training him to dance!” Grinning, “It had not yet occured to me to play with my kajirus quite that way – it is sooo amusing!” Mistress Glory laughed and said “Well, it relieves the boredom and keeps the sleen in shape. Boy, crawl over here, and bring the alcohol!”
As the crawling boy moved toward the two Freewomen Wishia remarked “You are so clever, making the kajirus learn a dance meant for a female silk slave, the pole dance. A dance in homage to the penis!” “Yes, rejoined Mistress Glory, but my boy has long been brown silk. It knows that his worship is of my strap-on!” Then Mistress Glory, quietly, said “I’m sorry that the tile dance was not better. I expected more sensuality, including much more tongue, and less thrusting his penis in the air – that did not impress me at all.” In the nadu position the boy was getting very anxious, hearing that his Mistress was dissatisfied with his performance.
“Here boy,” Mistress Glory said as she took the proffered alcohol and poured about a cupful around the tiles at their feet, Now perform Obeisance for us and make sure every part of you comes in contact with the liquid!” Both of the women laughed as the pitiful kajirus moved from position to position to wallow in the alcohol. He did Bara, then Sula, then back again to Bara on his belly, licking at the toes of the two Freewomen.
Wishia, her mouth in a wide grin, said “I love this, look how it burns him, yet he has to keep going. Would you consider training my boy to dance along with yours?”
Mistress Glory – “You hear that boy? You are going to have a classmate when my friend brings her boy over here to play and learn with you! Maybe she will want him to learn the pole dance too, and, if we are not sufficiently amused, we can dispense with the wooden pole while we watch you practice on each other!” There was a torrent of laughter now from both women.
Wishia had left several ahn ago to return to her dwelling. The kajirus had performed all of his regular morning duties. He had shaved and bathed both himself and her. She had eaten the breakfast he made and enjoyed a light session with his tongue. Now she was at her desk organizing the weekly dispatches prepared for relay home to Gor on the next Priest Kings ship.
While in her files she read some records concerning agent Wishia’ kajirus. Incredibly, he had been born on Urth and transported to Gor several solar revolutions ago. He had been trained as a silk slave and then assigned to Wishia. There had been some natural concern that once back on Urth he would renounce his Gorean enslavement and attempt to escape.
Those concerns had been dispelled when he actually cried when told he was going back to Urth. He begged agent Wishia not to go to Urth and not to take him along. He actually had resisted the Urth name, michael, which Wishia had chosen for him. She had told him that he could keep his Gorean name, but that once back on Urth he would be called michael, too, with his number from the slave pens added. In the end, he was named michaeltoo52 by her. His attitude convinced the Priest Kings that it was worth the risk to send him back. The mission would profit from his knowledge of the place and it’s customs. Apparently, according to his file, he had not had much training in dance. Good, she thought, the boys should be on about equal footing.
Looking up, she saw that the kajirus had just about finished his cleaning chores. She had made him perform them this morning in the manner of the he-quadruped as part of his punishment for dancing poorly the night before.
“The door, boy!” she called as she heard a rapping at the front door. He crawled, not having been released from the quadruped position, and opened the door from his knees.
Mistress Wishia entered first and then her boy, clad in an earth raincoat, came into the foyer while taking off the coat and dropping to his knees into a nadu position of his own. Beneath the raincoat he had been naked except for a genital collar and plastic chastity device. From the pocket of the rain coat he produced a collar, which he quickly fastened around his neck.
Mistress Glory breezed to the entry foyer, the colorful silk robe she wore flowing as if it were a vibrant cloud of color. “Well hello again, dear.” She said to Mistress Wishia. “And this must be michaeltoo!” She said as the boy as he prostrates himself and sweetly kisses her sandals. “let’s go sit out by the pool, shall we, Mistress Wishia? Boys, go to the kitchen and make us some drinks and snacks. We shall be by the pool – crawl.” The two women laughed to see two pairs of naked male haunches scurry in retreat towards the kitchen.
……………..
The two Gorian women relaxed on chaises by the pool chatting and awaiting their refreshments. “Your boy seems very alert and yet respectfully submissive, Wishia,” said Mistress Glory. I’m a little surprised to see those qualities in a male from this planet.” Changing position to glance toward the door to the kitchen she said “I read his report this morning for the first time. He actually prefers, according to the report, to be a slave to women on Gor instead of a free man on Urth. Remarkable!”
“I attribute some of that, said Wishia, to the fact that I was able to participate in his training almost from the beginning of his life on Gor. We are very well bonded.”
The boys came through the kitchen door scurrying on their knees with trays of drinks and snacks for the Ladies. Bowing first, they stood long enough to place the trays on the end tables and arrange the food for the women, then they returned to the nadu position, each before his mistress.
“You were saying, about ‘bonding” inquired Mistress Glory.
“Humm.” said Wishia. Want to see a demonstration?”
“Of course” replied Mistress Glory. She sensed that something a little different was about to happen.
Wishia then reached out with her empty left hand, held straight out, palm up. Her boy, michaeltoo, caught the signal from the corner of his eye and crawled quickly to her side. Without being told, he stood partly up and adjusted his height by squatting just enough so that his balls, dangling just below his chastity device, snuggled into the palm of her hand.
“Oh, I like that!” exclaimed Mistress Glory, suppressing a giggle.
“It has obvious usefulness.” Said Wishia. “There is an economy of discussion, it keeps the kajirus alert, and it can be used for punishment, or a little teasing, or to reinforce orders which I want to have his complete attention for.” She not too gently rolled his balls in her hand. Then she produced a key and removed his chastity device. “Go fetch the oil from my bag, boy.” she commanded. Michaeltoo scrambled to her bag, left in the foyer, and brought it back in his teeth. He then took out the jar of oil and, from the nadu position, head down, kissed the jar and offered it up to his mistress. When she accepted the oil he again resumed his squatting position, knees as widely spread as humanly possible, exactly where he had been before being commanded to fetch the jar of oil.
“I like a boy to glisten a little when he performs for me and my friends. This preparation has been laced with a pepper oil and brings a nice little burning sensation to his skin. It keeps him focused.” Wishia said, with a chuckle. She first worked the oil into his genitals. Then, twirling her finger, she had him turn so that his buttocks were available for more oiling. She put him quickly through several poses, applying more oil, until his entire body was coated with the hot preparation.
Laughing at the signs of discomfort from michaeltoo, Mistress Glory asked if she could try some of the oil. “Of course,” said Mistress Alexia, handing over the jar and ordering michaeltoo back into nadu.
Mistress Mistress Glory then proceeded to coat her kijirus with the oil after first removing his chastity device. When the oil first came into contact with his balls he flinched a little. Mistress Mistress Glory scowled and gave him a smart slap to his balls as a reminder to accept the process gracefully. He remembered himself and became perfectly obedient as well.
“Well,” said Mistress Glory, laughing, “Shall we see how your boy dances – if at all?”
“Of course,” replied Wishia, grinning broadly!
Originally posted 2012-10-14 14:28:33.
Gorean Male Slave : A Femdom Story
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs