Lack of self-control leads to KTB

Dear Altairboy:

My dominatrix, Mistress Leanda has instructed me to write to you detailing all of the events leading up to the introduction of the KTB and describing it’s effects. As this relates to a five-year period, it is inevitable a long story and I must beg your indulgence in asking you to read what follows. If however it is worthy of your attention I am instructed to offer this text.

I must begin by explaining that my Mistress Leanda is a ‘working girl’ who specialises in domination but can and does cater for all tastes. A diminutive redhead with a pale and freckled complexion she needs and wares the minimum of makeup but none the less has an awesome presence. I first submitted myself to her some five years ago. Right form the start she made it perfectly clear that she has very strict rule, ‘no submissive ever has intercourse with her’ and I have never yet sort to breach that rule. She gets more than enough of that anyway.

I had been visiting her as often as my meagre finances would allow, for about two years, when she had one almighty row with her landlord and had to move out promptly. She is about fifteen years younger than I am and I knew I was pushing my luck but none the less, I invited her to move in with me. With some reluctance she agreed to come and view my house, a four-bedroom bungalow in rural Cheshire. Situated a mile or so from our nearest neighbours it is rather remote but on a main road, so easy enough to find. After much deliberation she drew up a contract agreeing to dominate me, in return for unrestricted use of the bungalow for no less than a year. There were to be no fees either way but if our arrangement turned sour I was to move into rented accommodation for the rest of that year. If things went well we would extent the arrangement. Had it been put to the test, I don’t quite know how legally binding this contract would have proved but it was a clear statement of our agreed intentions right from the start.

She of course occupied the largest bedroom, the second was converted to a fully equipped dungeon and the third made ‘nice’ as she put it, for those clients that just want straight sex. This left me with far and away the smallest room to double as both my bedroom and office.

I have a part time job as a lab technician, working mornings only, so we quickly establish our routine. I take her in her breakfast tray before leaving for work, each morning at eight o-clock. Do whatever shopping is required on the way home and return around two p.m. If there is a car in the drive I must wait in an adjacent lay-by until the client leaves. Once home I strip naked, shave where ever necessary and don my six collars and cuffs, before presenting myself for inspection. By that time Mistress Leanda normally knows her appointments for the day and I must fit my domestic duties around her timetable.

‘Straight’ punters must never be aware of my presence, although I’m sure Mistress Leanda feels more secure knowing I’m there in case of an emergency. Most subs are told of my presence and are, I’m sure, rather jealous of my status. In other cases, once hooded to conceal their identities, I am introduced to some of her more regular clients. I even assisted in their bondage and humiliation on occasions but this is of course not entirely a one way process. Seeing her at work with others has increased my admiration for her considerably. She tailors her treatment exactly to each and every client’s needs. Her repertoire and the range of techniques she employs are immense.

I for example, take well to heavy bondage and humiliation and so am kept in bondage for long periods and remain naked at all times but I am a self confessed wimp when it comes to being beaten. I fairness to Mistress Leanda she has therefore never treated as a whipping boy and I am seldom if ever struck without good reason. Punishment is another matter, always an agreed number of strokes for a specific crime. I may challenge any sentence if I think it genuinely unfair. I also have the right to call for ‘time out’ if I need it but must remain on the whipping stool until any punishment is completed. Some slaves seem to thrive on being beaten. Simply having me observe their treatment is a turn on for others. Some perversions are beyond belief.

Perhaps what impresses me most is those activities, such as cross dressing and the like that Mistress Leanda does not inflict on me. With out ever having discussed it she just knows they would be inappropriate in my case. Her insight and understanding of each and every submissive’s mind is most impressive.

Shortly after moving in and once she was comfortable with our domestic arrangements, Mistress Leanda pierced my frenum. The small triangle of flesh at the bottom of the foreskin and inserted a short barbell. This she did without warning or consultation. In a matter of months the piercing had healed satisfactorily. This piercing was small, discrete and very, very personal to me. Deep down I was extremely proud to have received it. It was my Mistresses mark on me. I had never once considered visiting another ‘working girl’ but we both knew that this little barbell insured that I could and never would, do so either.

Next she introduced me to a stretching crescent. A curved and tapered rod of steel that must be held in place by a rubber washer while it stretches the piercing. A much longer, slower and more painful process than you might imagine. Over the next year or so we went form just a 2mm piercing, to a 5mm hole with little more than a month’s rest at the intervening sizes. The 5mm (4 gauge to you in the USA) barbell was quite something, very short but with nice chunky balls at each end and I would have been very happy to stop at that point. But the next stretcher however was a nightmare. The first crescent had been quite small and could be supported and concealed easily but this one was a real ‘meat hook’. It weighed-in at well over an ounce and was more than two and a half inches across. The stretch form 5 to 6 mm ( 2 gauge ) was hell but I got there.

I was of course dominated at all times but Saturday nights were special. Once the last punter had left, that became quality time for me. I almost always had my Mistress’s undivided attention on a Saturday night and that weekend was no exemption. She ordered me to prepare dinner for just one. I was used to missing meals in this fashion occasionally but it was normally as a punishment and I had done nothing wrong, as far as I knew. Once I had cleared the table, I was summoned to the dungeon. The meat hook through my frenum was becoming intolerable by now and I was keen to receive my new and hopefully more comfortable 6mm barbell.

Sitting on her throne she ordered me to, toss myself off. I had not been permitted to do this in her presents since she arrived in my house but she handed me a tissue and I got on with it. The hook dances wildly and painfully as I jerked away but in a minute or so I had performed the act exactly as required. She looked disdainfully at the contents of the tissue and asked if ‘that was it?’ Next she handed me a half bottle of vodka and told me to drink it. This came as an even greater surprise. I am never normally allowed any alcohol and am punished severely if there is even the slightest hint of drink on my breath. None the less I drank it for her, as slowly as I could get away with, struggling hard not to vomit as I did so. Mistress Leanda’s patience was wearing very thin by the time I finished. Then I was spread eagled on the bondage cross and she hung a lead weight on the crescent saying, "We better make sure it’s fully stretched for your new jewellery hadn’t we slave?"

It was an hour or more before she returned, by which time the vodka had taken full effect. My legs were unstable and I was frequently taking much of my weight on my arms by then. She transferred me to the rack, mercifully under little tension and took out her, by now familiar, bag of body piercing tools. She appeared in an exceptionally good humour that evening and with the weight removed, so of course was I, thanks to all that alcohol. She produced a heavy doughnut like ball closure ring and balanced it playfully on my nose. "Take a close look at that." she said. We both laughed. I was drunk for the first time in ages. I had my Mistresses undivided attention. She was enjoying herself and that was all that mattered to me.

The ring she informed me was 16mm (5/8inch) internal diameter and 6mm (1/4 inch) or 2 gauge. Using a very large pair of ring pliers, which have a reverse action, the jaws opening as the ten inch handles were pulled together she managed, with some effort, to dislodge the steel ball. Then held it up to the gap to ensure that the ring had sprung back into shape properly and not been permanently distorted. She explained that she had, had the two small depressions in the ball drilled out a fair bit and the ring crimped up to compensate. "It made the ball ‘a sod’ to dislodge and get back in but we wouldn’t want it falling out would we?" I remember laughing out loud with her at this remark. I loved her more at that moment than ever before. She was mine. My Mistress, every much as much as I was her slave. My thoughts were muddled but I visualised the chunky ring hanging like a doorknocker from my oh so tender frenum. I imagined being leashed and lead around by it and all the bondage opportunities it would offer her.

Leanda donned her surgical gloves, removed the meat hook and examined my piercing closely. I felt that I should be sporting an erection for her at that moment but that was out of the question. My dick had all the characteristics of a dead worm. With a 10mm ball the gap in the ring must have been around 8mm and with some considerable pushing and shoving she forced the neck of my limp little dick through the opening into the centre of the ring. It now sat in the ridge behind the penis head, the ends pointing downwards and straddling the piercing. Next she rotated it, pushing one end through the hole as she did so. This must of hurt like hell but I was three sheets to the wind by now and almost oblivious to any pain. I couldn’t have cared less at that stage.

Next she produces a pair of mole grip pliers from her bag, the jaws of which were each wrapped with tape to avoid marking the ring. She aligned a dimple in one side of the ball with one end of the ring and tried to wedge the other in place. A moment or two later the ball shot to one side with all the force of an air gun pellet, striking my knob as it did so. She tried again and on the third attempt it snapped home with an audible click. She then rotated the ring so that the ball sat top dead centre and released me from the rack to view her handiwork. As I sat up I felt sick and with her permission, staggered to the bathroom bringing up most of the vodka and what little remained of my last meal with it. I was relieved to find that I could still go to the toilet but it stung a little and my flow of urine was reduced to a meagre trickle. After a thorough inspection and a couple of close-up photographs, I was allowed to go to bed.

I woke up the next morning with a dreadful hangover but far worse with a very painful erection. Fitting the ring had not been a ‘bad dream’, it was really there, gripping my cock and it hurt. It hurt like hell. I tried hard to think of something else, anything else. Each throb of the erection bit tighter and that caused an uncontrollable state of arousal. The pain was indescribable, worst of all, I knew it was all of my own making. I went into the kitchen and held a large pack of frozen peas on it. That helped but not much. I struggled to make Mistress Leanda’s breakfast, took in her tray and begged her to release me. She smiled sweetly and without any hesitation handed me the ring opening pliers. "Here slave, you sort it out" she said, with a more knowing smile than usual. It was a look that thrilled me, sent shivers down my spine and instantly started another erection.

I took the pliers and retreated quickly to my own room. The jaws had fitted in the empty ring all right the night before but you couldn’t get so much as a match stick in alongside my throbbing dick now. There was just no room and no chance of getting anything strong enough in there to prise the ring even slightly open. Slowly I realised that I was trapped, there was no escape. Even Mistress Leanda could not release me now. Painful erection followed painful erection and I had to take some time off work that week. The ring bit so hard that the piercing started to discharge and occasionally even bleed. If allowed to congeal on the ring this became an abrasive and made matters worse. The flesh in contact with the ring, especially the large ball became very browsed. Next the foreskin started to swell up and I was in constant pain all week. Even Mistress Leanda expressed some concern at this point and that in itself worried me. I had always trusted her totally and the thought that she may have got this wrong scared me more than ever but some antibacterial lotion she gave me certainly helped.

It was only when the swelling died down a week later that the hopelessness of my situation came home to me. The ring and the ball especially had by now bitten into my flesh and appeared almost countersunk. It was so tight that I doubt it could have been pulled off even if it were not secured through my frenum on the underside. There was just nothing to grip hold of in order to force the ring apart. A hacksaw was out of the question. Driving the ball out by pushing it inwards towards the centre with the mole grip was a non-starter. That would have been like trying to force the keystone of an arch out by pushing it down. I would only have distorted the ring into an oval making it even tighter. The ball may just as well have been welded in place.

At this point I must confess to a sin that has gone undetected and unpunished to date but been on my conscience ever since I committed it. I was desperate to get the ring off. It was a mid-week evening and Mistress Leanda was working as an escort that night, so unlikely to come home before midnight, if at all. I went to an off-licence and bought another half bottle of vodka. My intention was hopefully to reach a state in which I could ignore the pain and pull the ring over the head of a very shrunken penis. Just what I would do next I had not really thought through. Either confront my Mistress with what I had done and hope she would accept it as a tethering point or I might have even use the ring pliers to take the thing off altogether. That I would I knew have has to move into a rented flat for the rest of the year. I did not of course have the advantage of tossing myself off first so I sat in a cold bath instead.

The water was painfully cold and I was reduced to a shivering wreck in a matter of minutes as I tried to drink the vodka. My dick however refused to shrink as much as expected and I was unable to finish all the vodka either. I lay down for a while to let the alcohol take effect then tried to pull it off. I got it part way, The ball came out of the ridge and onto my helmet OK but with the ring stuck in my frenum the round trip was just too much. I finished the vodka and waited a little longer. It was the middle of the night when I woke up and heard Mistress Leanda come home. I had a stinking hangover once more, a full bladder and an empty bottle by my bed. Worst of all the ring was stuck in an even tighter spot than usual and I had another hard coming on. I was very luck indeed to that she went straight to beg and I managed to gain control of myself and get the ring back in place.

I became very depressed after that, as it took a long time to learn to control my erections properly. The biological feedback of any such constraint, the KTB included, is instant. Arousal causes a throb, that causes pain, and ‘hey presto’ your away! It takes enormous self-control to calm down. Mental exercises such as long division sums or currency conversion are the only way to overcome this reaction as I have now learnt. Playing with myself was no longer an option but this I knew was Mistress Leanda’s intention. Being ringed was a life-changing event for me but I eventually started to take some pride in my ability to live with it and even control it. While being initially very dismissive of pleadings and protestations Mistress Leanda of courses gradually became more aware of what she had achieved. She also became more promiscuous and willing to arouse me. Demanding at first that I massage her naked body and then even service her with my tong which had never, ever, been allowed to do before.

The first time the ring was displayed to another submissive, I started out feeling deeply humiliated, until that was, I saw his reaction. He was of course masked so I could not see his face but his combination of genuine fear and shear disbelief was palpable. Far from being humiliated I became strangely proud of being ringed, proud of the intimacy and strength of the relationship it shows I have with Mistress Leanda. She is after all my full time Mistress and lives under my roof, she had chosen to do this to me, he was nothing more than a scared punter paying for his hour in her dungeon and wanting to run. No I was not the one who was humiliated.

Several months later a client arrived at the front door and I was ordered to stay in the kitchen. They were shown to the bedroom then minutes later Mistress Leanda called me in. The client was for the first time a woman. She was over weight and lying face down and naked, all but for a towel over her bottom. "This is Mary" said Leanda as I approached and was then pushed in front of her. Leanda reached around me and grasped my penis, which swelled at her very touch. She pulled back the foreskin. Mary smiled as the ring was revealed and remarked that it looked even tighter than she had been led to expect. "He’s yours" said Leanda "He will do what ever you ask. And I do mean ‘what ever’" she added, looking directly at me and then at the bedside table were I knew she kept her condoms. "You have 45 minutes."

Mary spread her chubby legs and demanded a good back massage for starters. She was in her very late forty’s and while not quite obese could not be described as anything less than fat. She eyed me continuously in the mirror as I worked on her back and then rolled over grabbing my dick as she did so. Mental arithmetic was no help. I was having an erection in front of this unattractive stranger. She turned out to be quite athletic for a woman of her size, climbing on top and relished my expressions of pain for ages before she climaxed.

Mary was only the first of several regular female clients that Leanda arranged for me. One of who was exceedingly sadistic but I am pleased to say that Leanda never left me unattended with her for long. My downfall however was a younger woman called Kate, who managed to be both dominant and shy at the same time. She always wanted to use the dungeon and was mesmerised by the equipment. Putting me on each piece in turn but with care and understanding she would finish by taking me while on the rack but kissing me very tenderly as she did so. On her third visit we talked for ages and I discovered that she was herself a submissive at heart but had been abused in a previous relationship and was very reluctant to submit to anyone again.

She was a complex and very nervous creature but non-the less let me take control. When we had sex she was terrific, I could understand her and at the risk of sounding arrogant I responded perfectly to her needs. To this day I marvel at what happened, I climaxed for the first and only time since being ringed. By then it must have bedded in and possibly even migrated a little since first being inserted. In any event she took me beyond my pain threshold and I ejaculated. It was several minutes before the erection subsides and any semen was released. We must have been quite noisy in the end and had over run our allotted time so Mistress Leanda came in to check that all was well very soon afterwards. On seeing the contents of my condom she hit the roof and still only half-dressed Kate was promptly escorted from the premises, never to be seen again.

I need not go into what followed other than to say it was painful and has led to the ordering of the KTB which I now wear to work each day and am wearing as I write.

The pain it causes differs considerably from the ring which is still of course in place. The ring although much tighter is smooth and it’s grip is quite progressive. The KTB on the other hand is very sharp and so makes it presence known more suddenly and over a much wider area. Although quite large it is a bit lighter than I had expected and while I remain flaccid, it can go unnoticed for long periods on a good day. I doubt that any slave could ever remove it, let alone replace it undetected but living as mine does North of the ring, that is out of the question anyway. I have only been forced to sleep in it only once to date and by ensuring that I went to bed with an empty bladder, I avoided excessive pain in the morning.

Thanks to my training I have a very unfair advantage in the self-control stakes over any brand new KTB users. I am proud to say that mine has yet to draw blood. I would advise any new purchasers to start with the milder version of this device however. Please believe me, this thing is not a toy, it should not be tried by any other than the most masochistic of you without some milder training first. It can and will bring the bravest of untrained slaves to his knees in moments. It really requires a lot of self-control. It should only be used briefly to start with and I would recommend securing it in place with no more than a rubber band for the first few weeks, until both slave and Mistress gain some confidence.

If you are considering buying one then please treat it with care. The goods in our case took some time to arrive, but non-the less are of excellent quality. I personally had a small problem with some surplus adhesive used in its construction and had to stand the bracelet on Mistress Leanda’s a hair dryer for some time to cure the remaining glue. Any one with any pubic hair at all should be very cautious or expect to loose it!. That aside the KTB is every thing it is claimed to be, and a totally effective chastity device. One that puts the slave in charge of just how much pain he has to suffer and directs his thoughts accordingly. It is only suitable for submissive males who genuinely want to demonstrate a total commitment to their Mistress’s pleasure by giving up their own entirely.

Few women are worth that but I am lucky enough to say that my Mistress Leanda is one of them.

The slave Bob

PS - Having read the above text Mistress Leanda decided to punish me three times over for the second vodka incident. Once for the drink itself, once for not telling as I am invited to confess my sins regularly and finally for fiddling the housekeeping. I was given the choice of 18 strokes, or 72 hours in the KTB. I have opted for the KTB although I expect to be provoked unfairly once it is in place.

Mistress Leanda’s letter follows

Dear Altairboy,

I write with regard to the article my slave Bob wrote describing his pierced frenum, tight little cock ring and the KTB. The ring is of course still securely in place and with the exception of the one unfortunate event described in the story it is still a very effective chastity device. As for the KTB, he is showing the sincerest respect for it and so I restrict its use almost exclusively to punishment sessions.

With out verification however the whole story could so easily be a pack of lies so I was about to take some photos for you when it struck me that this was an excellent opportunity to humiliate him further. I gave him my little digital camera and sent him out to get a photo of his stiff little dick stuck in my ring in the hands of another woman. Almost any of the female clients I have found him in the past few months would have gladly obliged but none live locally and I knew he had no way of finding them. He would have to get a hooker to do the job. The Police around here are fairly hot and so there is no red light district or any advertisments to be found in phone boxes.

There are however a couple of massage parlours within twenty miles and I guessed that he would head for one of these. So the moment that he left I was on the phone to each. As luck would have it I knew all the girls that were working that day and told them to humiliate him as much as possible, to fleece him for all the cash they could but under no circumstance to allow him to take the photo. Unless that is they could get him to cum first. If he came back with a shot with spunk in it, I told them, I would personally give them a bonus. Despite the girls being pro’s and not liking to be seen to be beaten, this was an offer I felt sure I would not have to pay out on.

It was early evening before he came home. The local girls had all given him a very hard time but he had had to drive to Manchester before he found the unsuspecting hooker who was willing to take part in the photo. The whole affair cost him a small fortune.

Best regards
Leanda

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Page last updated 00-Dec-31 by: Altairboy@aol.com