Three months after our first meeting and some email exchanges, you again do me the honor of receiving me. Making a point of being punctual, I show up at the door of your building at the exact time of our appointment, climbs the stairs of your building four by four and knocks on your door.
You open, smile at me, let me in.
The ritual to gently enter your universe is the same as that of the first session. After a few words exchanged, i have to undress in front of you, at the pace you impose on me. With each garment removed, I know it, a piece of my social armor is disappearing.
I also know that the smiles you give me, the kindly mocking words that you utter are so many strings that you tighten to attract me to the place that I must take. Of course I catch them, these strings, confident and eager to follow you.
naked and showered, I then present myself at the door of your Boudoir. Before operating the door knocker, I breathe one last time.
I hesitate.
To make it resonate is to agree to switch, is to make a journey that will be, I know it, once again striking. A dazzling idea comes to me and suggests me to flee. I hunt her, knock and wait for your response.
Here I am now in front of you, kneeling, hands on head. You pass a collar around my neck and take out of its case the chastity cage that you have planned to install on my penis. A sa vue, I'm a little worried but don't dare tell you. You realize it of course but you continue as if nothing had happened.
Its installation is not so easy but, with four hands, we get there. Contrary to what I feared, she doesn't hurt me, it operates more like a kind of anesthetic. The effect is rather unexpected but ultimately quite pleasant. To the extent that, during the next session, the sensations that I will feel on the other parts of my body will be tinted with a particular color : purified, brutes, intensified, not interfered with by the perception of an erection.
A ball gag in my mouth that prevents me from leaving the slightest intelligible word, I now have the first instruction to adore your feet. I am new to the exercise and not quite sure how to go about it. Embarrassed by the ball in my mouth that prevents me from kissing them, I rub my face on your feet, under your feet, massage them somehow.
Despite my efforts, my work does not satisfy you. You take the gag off me and dig your toes down my throat. Your feet force the passage of my teeth and mistreat my palate. They have a taste for nylon and the pleasure of submission.
From my position lying on my back, I sometimes see furtively the top of your thighs. I wanna put my hands on it, touch them, caress them but I don't dare. I just watch.
You drag me unceremoniously for a few meters and make me lie on my back, a cushion under the buttocks, legs up and brutally shove a dildo in my mouth. Surprised, I nearly choke. It amuses you and you tell me in – happiness ! – me tutoyant.
head stuck, nailed dare I say, I can't get away from you ; you play, increase the pressure in my mouth, pinch my nose to keep me from breathing, let go and start again.
/…/
You order me to look you in the eyes, I try but staying focused takes a lot of effort. tossed, shaken, shaken up by your thrusts and your abuse, I have the feeling that I no longer have a hold on anything, to have lost all control. I see myself transformed into an object so much the little will that I had left seems to have disappeared.
/…/
Coming out of the shower, the tea you offer me struggles to bring me back to my senses. I even find it difficult to hold a discussion with you as the images of what I have just experienced come back and collide. A fight is playing out in my mind : my social self, stunned with moralizing injunctions rebels at what my inner self has done to him, eager for new adventures. And unsurprisingly it is the latter who takes over.
Testimony of J.
