Entree Ch. 08

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Big Tits

by: boy/the alter-ego of NastyPierre

Chapter 8: Can’t Scratch Every Itch

The slap stunned me and left me gurgling in sputters that sprayed from the corners of my mouth. Though I made little sound my eyes overfilled with tears that immediately cascaded down the front of my face. My Mistress smiled when she saw my reaction and when I made no move to escape she became bolder.

I was shaking as never before, trembling to my Mistress’s actions and words, and she knew it only too well. The power I’d given her over my body had suddenly reached her head and the results were changing her into a Ms. Hyde. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice, and feel it in the air. Her eyes turned dark, became glassy, and they looked through me in a cold unfeeling way. I was becoming more afraid by the moment, but took it to be the results of my surrender, the very feeling I was after. Any second thoughts I had were swept away by the starkness of my situation. As was our agreement, there was to be no turning back now, no getting up and walking out. What was to be would now be, and I could do nothing to stop it until our two weeks were up. The realization of what I’d gotten myself into slowly took me by the throat and choked the life out of me. I was a prisoner about to serve some unique time. My Mistress held my chin steady and almost spit words into my face.

“Now, my little fluffy,” my Mistress said. Her voice turned to a cold wind and it too frightened me. It sounded sinister, the tone rife with vibrations of pure evil. This was a new person, an eerie personality that I looked up to with newfound apprehension and a respect honed by fear. I shivered to her icy words as they hit me. “Behave yourself little boy, I’m not kidding! From this day forward you begin learning what humiliation is all about…” she stopped to laugh. “…And you can bet your life, that I’m gonna cram more humiliation down your little pussy throat than you can swallow. And then I’m gonna pack in even more! Bet on it boy,” she said nodding. “For instance, I’ve decided to keep you entirely naked for the next two weeks.” She was nodding her head quickly and snickering. “Yep, you didn’t realize just how far I’d go, did you?” I was reeling to the shock waves caused by her words, as they hit me like storm driven waves against an unprotected shore. “I will keep you naked from this day forward and you will stay naked all of the time. All of the time, day and night!” She stopped long enough to continue snickering, grip my chin tight and take a breath. “No matter where we travel, or who we meet, you will be as you are now, my little puppy dog.” It almost looked as if my Mistress were about to slap her knee in laughter. “So let’s finish getting rid of all this unsightly hair, get you harnessed and then prepared. Then we can go down to my car.”

‘Prepared,’ I thought to myself.

“I can’t wait to get you to my place… oh, I just can’t wait.” She finished, and like a hungry wolf she licked her lips. I looked at her, feeling like a turkey dinner waited to be carved.

This moment represented the culmination of our strange relationship. It was proving to be more unusual then I’d thought possible. My Mistress released my chin and I watched in the mirror as she hacked off the rest of my hair. I made no other move to escape her. She let the hair fall on the floor as her friend took pictures and when she was finished, she put down the shears long enough to cuff my wrists.

“Just a precaution,” she said. I was perplexed by this and began to really bursa escort worry as she moved to my behind. I jumped slightly when she gripped the first tuft of pubic hairs and clipped it away.

“Keep your head down and your ass up, fluffy,” she ordered and I complied by resting on my forearms. She worked on cutting my pubic hair as best she could and although it was a bit cumbersome, she enjoyed herself, snipping off hair as her friend snapped off pictures. I was getting over the slap as my hair was removed and when my Mistress was finished she disappeared. I stayed as I was as her friend continued to photograph me from every angle.

“Look into the camera little guy…” the friend said and I complied. “…Arch for me little guy, come on…” and I obeyed, bringing my wet face to the lens and following it around as best I could. “…That’s the way. I wanna see your little pee pee too. Stick that behind up! Come on… come on.” She went on yelling orders and flashing pictures. “Show me what a ‘hand-slut’ you are. Ahhh, is he a little ‘hand-whore’. Yea, he’s in love with a hand… Oh… show me the whore in love with a hand …look at me, look at me, look into the lens little guy!” She yelled order after order as the lens circled around me slowly, like a satellite around a moon, flashing and blinding continuously. “Smile,” she yelled with a laugh. Some minutes later my Mistress returned with a pan of water, soap, and a razor.

She went to my behind and I strained in a series of small wiggles to get it even higher. I couldn’t get my behind higher, I couldn’t make it any more assessable, and yet I tried because that’s what my Mistress wanted. It made my Mistress happy and she let me know.

“Very nice fluffy. Very, very nice. You’re such a good little boy.” The words spurred me to struggle with intent on proving to her that I was a puppy, which brought me more accolades, and her hands. She took my entire sack in one fist and squeezed until I grimaced for the camera. “They’re so adorable, and they belong to me,” she stated with satisfaction. I winced to the words as well as the pain because it was true. For the next two weeks I couldn’t touch myself, or stand to walk away. I was a puppy and completely dependent on my Mistress for everything. My body belonged to her.

The next thing I knew she was wetting down and lathering my groin and lower belly. She soaped everywhere but my balls. Those she gripped in one hand so she could maneuver me about as she shaved. I felt the razor glide over my skin with few snags, and the ones it caught made me jump. At one point my Mistress lifted both my knees from the concrete and held me in the air as my head lolled on the block. She cared nothing of the mess she was making and soon had me decorticated. Then she went for the balls.

“Get these, will ya. I want some close-ups of these gems,” she said to her friend. Her friend went to my behind and started in.

“Hey, little guy! Hey little hand-whore. You look back here at me,” she reminded me without looking in my direction. I obeyed and watched them work together, as my mind zeroed in on the hands and razor.

My Mistress was very good at shaving and very careful too. She loved knowing my balls belonged to her and treated them like precious stones, most of the time. But she also used them to punish me and maneuver me about. She’d learned right away that my balls were connected to my heart and that made controlling me easy. I felt her grab one of my testicles and squeeze ’til the skin became taut. My Mistress wanted it görükle escort very, very taut, and then I felt the razors edge. It scrapped me clean of every hair and left me baby soft. Then I heard the razor being rinsed and felt the razors return. My Mistress took her time with her new possessions and shaved my sack with meticulous precision.

She loved to see the sack tight and swollen, balls pressing to escape and burst through the skin. She liked the way they moved as I crawled and always liked walking behind me. The razor was done and I was rinsed clean. Next she came to my head, shaved it bald and left laughing. When she returned she had gloved hands saturated in oil and went for my behind. She took my balls and cock, massaging one and stroking the other. I jumped into a bucking frenzy without thinking, but the hands disappeared too soon and in a fit of exasperation I released a spray of saliva from each corner of my mouth. In swift motions my mind couldn’t follow my Mistress girded my sack with its own leather collar.

“Just a precaution,” she said again and I started rocking from knee to knee out of frustration, which earned me another swift swat. Now my sack glistened and itched. The oil was a mild irritant meant to cause severe itchiness for an hour or more.

Before I knew what was going on, my Mistress placed what looked like a leather cage around my head. It was a collection of thin leather belts that came together at the back of my head. She quickly buckled each strap after drawing it tight. Then she tightened the belt holding the ball in my mouth. She had the ball nearly down my throat and the leather ripping at the corners of my mouth. I was crying, but it didn’t matter because I’ve been crying often. Her sympathy came as a slap that told me to be quiet and behave, which I attempted to do. Finally she snapped the end of a short leash to the collar around my neck and with a yank, pulled me from the block. I landed on all fours and was hauled around by my Mistress ’til positioned in front of her.

My Mistress proceeded showing me her newest toy, a shiny black dog whip. It was five feet nine inches of the stiffest leather, and came to one of the finest barbed tails. She was making it sing by swishing it in the air. It was right in front of me and its song took my breath away.

“Its bite is worse than its bark,” my Mistress warned. The irritant started biting and I looked up to her in alarm, realizing what she knew already. Though I kept my eyes up to her, I lost control and was forced to bounce and rub my thighs together for a relief I couldn’t attain. I began fidgeting and had to keep fighting the need to scratch myself. I wanted to obey, but the itch demanded disobedience and was tearing me asunder. In moments my mind collapsed under the siege and I moved to scratch myself, but the first movement of a paw in that direction drew the dog whips attention and first bite. It caught my right cheek as a lesson to learn and I screamed in gurgles and sputters most profound.

SNAP! It hit me fast and its bite was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I jumped into the air, tears jumping from my face, and my Mistress shortened up on the leash, pulling me closer.

“Behave yourself,” she screamed as I struggled to obey. I was still crying because of the stinging pain and I couldn’t stop drooling or leaking. I didn’t want her to use the dog whip again and was going to do anything to avoid it. I tried to line up my tail and nose, but the itch made me tremble and I doubled over. escort bayan I fought the movement of a paw I couldn’t control.

SNAP! Another bite of the dog whip made me jump into the air again and howl to a pain I couldn’t believe. I vowed that would be the last one, and made to straighten, but couldn’t. My Mistress had to bring me under control and hold me steady.

“Stand still, fluffy, or I’ll tan your hide good with this whip. Understand me,” she screamed. I tried to let her know I did understand only too well, but I couldn’t see through my tears and clouded visions. I wanted her to understand the itching was out of control and I couldn’t do as she bade me. I wanted to obey her and I fought with myself, and tried to think of anything else and nothing at all, but nothing worked, and I moved as before.

SNAP! Yet another snap of the whip sent me into the air and started me choking. Again I was yanked into position and yelled at.

“Stand still fluffy and look up at me.” I obeyed. “And keep looking at me. Keep your eyes on me and keep your paws on the floor.” Again I promised myself that would be the last whipping, while I listened to her words filter through screams created by itchiness and pain. I tried to decipher all I heard and stay aware, but was loosing touch with reality. I felt a billion bugs feasting on my organ and was driven to the point of total insanity. My legs started twitching and I clenched my ass cheeks tight. I was sweating and shivering, and made to press my thighs together, and move a paw.

SNAP! I jumped into the air again and was hauled back into position.

“You’re just not going to learn are you,” my Mistress screamed down at me as loud as she could. She was wrong; I would learn I promised myself yet again. The pain couldn’t have been greater and I couldn’t have been crying harder. I was having difficulty keeping my breath through my nose and couldn’t stop my holes from excreting. The snap of the whip caused the itch to disappear momentarily and I looked up at my Mistress for help. She sent the dog whip back and forth in front of me and smiled and I tried swallowing. “Behave yourself,” she yelled and I prayed. With that she bent over and snapped the end of another leash to the collar around my scrotum.

“I told you it would come in handy as a precaution. What-a-ya-say-now? Hmmmm? It’s because you can’t be trusted I’m using it.” She stood and used that leash in conjunction with the other. With the aid of both leashes my Mistress kept me standing close and quite tall. I felt like a marionette for sure and I liked it. She couldn’t entirely stop me from fidgeting though, but she wasn’t shy about using the dog whip to try. She watched my paws carefully and attacked my ass for the slightest movement. I stood trembling and in sweat, and completely at wits end. I was about to provoke the most viscous attacks for the chance to scratch myself just one time.

SNAP! The dog whip even bit my thoughts and I jumped again, only to be held in place by the leashes. My scrotums leash was most effective considering, but the itches were overwhelming and tugged at my heart. The moments of relief provided by the whip’s bite were getting shorter. I prayed for the strength to keep the itch from my mind till it was over. It was a loosing battle, for I was a field of ripe spring wheat set upon by hordes of ravenous locust.

“Look at me fluffy. You look at me,” she yelled and when I did she looked up at her friend with instructions.

“Get the car and we’ll be down in a minute,” she said. She had that smirk on her face and her friend responded with a big smile that beamed of an enthusiasm most sinister. The friend looked at me and laughed, then left by the front door, closing it behind her. I should have been relieved.

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