Seedwaster - Captain Chasteway’s Continuing Mission

Seedwaster (or, Captain Chasteway’s Continuing Mission)

Submitted by: Old Greebo

Chapter 2

Note by author: If you don’t read Episode 1 first,
you might not understand what the hell I’m talking about
in this (second) episode.

Pam was downstairs. Alan could hear her busying herself in the kitchen, getting the coffee machine going and (he hoped) getting a couple of bacon rashers and an egg out of the fridge. He always insisted on a fried breakfast -- he felt it set him up for a hard day’s work at the accountancy practice where he worked as a junior partner. Yeah, sure, he was gradually putting on weight but it wasn’t anything that worried him, not yet. Maybe one day he’d sign up with the local gym and do something about it. Meanwhile, the only real exercise he got was his frequent masturbation sessions.

He hadn’t got out of bed yet. Maybe, he thought, he could toss himself off before he threw back the duvet and started his day. His hand went automatically down towards the little bit of flesh that represented his lifestyle, the centre of his whole being...

... and once again he failed to find it.

Hell-fire, he thought, there was something wrong here. He remembered trying to find it earlier, just as the dawn was breaking, but for some reason he’d turned his attention to Pam’s body and forgotten about his own. Now, he was aware of a massive erection between his thighs, desperately wanting the touch of a sensitive hand, the clutch of fingers that would pump it to a thrilling, cum-spilling climax.

Logic, he thought. Method. He put his finger on his belly-button. That was there all right. Good - he had a reference point to start from. Slowly and carefully he started to move his hand downwards. He could feel the short, sparse hairs of his lower belly. Just a little further and his hand would close joyously on his ...

... inner thigh!

Now his puzzlement turned to mild panic. This was fucking ridiculous! Angrily he tossed back the duvet and looked down at his rigid dick. There it was, just waiting for his touch. He stood up, walked to the mirror and tried to grasp himself, but every move his hand made would just end up on his belly or on his thigh. The erection subsided. He found himself wondering whether Pam had liked the little caresses and attentions he’d been giving her before she went downstairs to make breakfast. Somehow it seemed very important to him that Pam be sexually and sensually satisfied.

Alan glanced back at his reflection in the mirror and saw, for the first time, the gold ring that encircled his cock and scrotum. Well, he thought, at least that might explain why his cock had been so achingly stiff and fully erect for so long. But of course it posed another question. Where had the ring come from? Surely his Mistress hadn’t put it on him? But it couldn’t be anyone else -- it certainly hadn’t been there before he’d gone to bed.

"Hey, wait a minute!" he suddenly said out loud. He rolled back his last few seconds of mental musing. Where, he asked himself, had that word ‘Mistress’ come from? He was the boss in this house! He’d never thought of Pam as an equal, let alone as a Mistress. There was something seriously wrong here. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Quickly he put on his clothes, and without pausing to brush his teeth or shave he sped downstairs to the kitchen.

"Pam, what the fuck have you done to me? There’s a ring on my cock and I can’t take it off!"

Pam put down the coffee jug and turned to face him. "Good morning Alan," she said quietly. "Would you mind going back upstairs and making yourself presentable before you come down again? I don’t want your unshaven face leering at me across the breakfast table!"

The controller was on the kitchen worktop by the microwave. Pam picked it up, but before she could do anything with it Alan had snatched it out of her hand.

"What’s this thing ... ?" he started to demand, but suddenly he was seized by a massive surge of sexual sensation and his penis became rock hard again. The ring around his genitalia was vibrating, as was the controller that he gripped in his left hand. An overwhelmingly powerful orgasmic wave hit him, causing his sperm to burst forth with such force that it oozed immediately through his underpants. Soon it was a fist-sized, gummy patch that rapidly spread to the open front of his trousers. But the orgasm didn’t stop. Alan came and came, the stain becoming a tacky mess that started to drip down on each side of his open zip. He collapsed to his knees, his body still wracked with the pulsing pain-pleasure of the continuing climax.

"Give me the controller" Pam suggested, her voice still quiet. Alan continued to writhe. There was now no pleasure left in the sensations that continued to wreak havoc with his reproductive system. He fell onto his side on the kitchen floor and drew his knees up into a foetal position, while his cock continued its futile efforts to spurt more sperm into his pants. He was groaning now.

"Give it to me," said Pam. But Alan was beyond listening. She knelt down and carefully prised the little device from his twitching fingers. The orgasm stopped at once but Alan remained for several minutes on the floor, exhausted and totally emptied. Gradually his curled-up body opened up, and he turned to lie on his back. His still-rigid cock, enveloped in his cum-laden underpants, protruded obscenely through his open zip.

"Don’t ask," said Pam. "Just listen."

Alan eased his body to a half-sitting position. He didn’t look Pam in the eye -- he felt it might not be wise to do so.

"This little controller is mine," she continued. "If you try to take it from me, you now know what will happen to you. If you damage it the effect will be the same, and I might not be able to rescue you from the consequences. Same if you hide it from me. So just accept that I have it, and that you can’t do anything about it."

"But why?" groaned Alan.

"I told you not to ask. Just listen. I suppose you’ve already discovered that you can’t put your hands on your cock any more?"

Alan nodded. "I can’t even do up my sodding zip!" he added ruefully.

"It’s your cock ring that does it. Don’t ask me how, but I’m reliably informed that you’ll never, ever masturbate again. God, Alan, if you only knew how you disgusted me every time you did it! This little device is going to make a fantastic difference to our marred life!"

Alan stood up. The stain of sticky semen covered the entire front of his trousers.

"OK," said Pam, "I’ve changed my mind. You can change and shave after breakfast. I want you to sit at the table with your cock slopping about in that sea of cum, with your pants clinging coldly to your groin, with your body feeling that all its life had been sucked out of it. For years I’ve had to lie in bed with the stickiness and the stench of your cum enveloping me; now it’s your turn."

She turned back to the cooker, where Alan’s fried breakfast was now black and considerably overdone, and prepared a plate for him. "You’ll eat all of this, won’t you?" she said, placing it before him as he sat at the table. It was not a question, and Alan glumly nodded his agreement.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Alan sat in his usual first-class compartment, trying to read the clues to the Daily Telegraph crossword. By the time the train stopped at Surbiton he would normally have solved at least a third of the clues, but this time he’d completed only one. ‘Pallid Rex at dark Queen’s mercy? That’s verified’. Seven letters. Alan’s mind was running in a very particular groove. Pallid; wan, he thought. And Rex means king. And he was plainly at the mercy of his Queen, the raven-haired Pam. W-A-N K-I-N-G, he’d written. Wrong, of course. The right answer was ‘checked’.

His thoughts ran obsessively over the incredible events of that morning. He was uncomfortably conscious of the gold ring that adorned his genitalia. Already, while he’d been waiting for his train at Oxshott Station, he’d experienced one sudden, gut-wrenching erection which had disappeared as quickly as it had manifested after about thirty seconds, and he was certain that Pam had been playing with that fucking little controller of hers. So the thing worked all right at a half-mile range, he mused ruefully. He wondered if he’d still be at her mercy in central London.

Where the fuck had she got that kit from, he wondered. He was an avid web-surfer, but he’d never come across anything like it on offer from any of the BDSM specialist sites he knew. When he got to his office, he thought, he’d have to get online and do some in-depth investigation.

+++++

Pam put down her controller and smiled. Just one little reminder ought to be enough, she mused. For now. She knew her little electronic device was keyed to various communications satellites, including two that the Galactic Council had left orbiting the moon, so she could control him anywhere in the world. But Alan didn’t need to know that right now.

What has Penny said about contacting her? Ah, yes. The World Wide Web. Except that it wasn’t www, was it? It was uww, the Universe Wide Web.

Bugger the dishes, she thought. Alan can wash them when he gets home. She powered up Alan’s computer and logged on. She chose Netscape -- Penny had warned her about alerting Billionaire Bill to things outside his current sphere of control. She typed in ‘uww’, followed by the special code on her controller’s little screen, and pressed ‘enter’.

Yes! The Galactic Council emblem appeared, along with the message ‘Greetings, Pam#100047. You are now connected to the entire Universe Wide Web. This site is protected by 128gb super-security.’ There was a long menu offering access to numerous planetary webs, but at the foot of the page was an option for contacting Galactic Council starships.

She typed in ‘virtue3’, and waited.

"Hello, Pam#100047. Good to hear from you. How can we help?"

"Hello Virtue 3. Can I communicate with Captain Chasteway?"

"Sorry, Pam#100047. Captain’s busy with problems in your Australia. Big masturbation outbreak there. I’m Lieut. Beatrice. I was on the bridge when you were beamed up to us. Can I help?"

Pam wasn’t convinced. The world’s web was notoriously un-secure, and she wondered if the uww might be just as bad.

"If you saw me, you’ll know what I have on my left breast."

"Pam#100047, there is a mole just below your left nipple. Below that there is a small lump that our sensors tell us is not malignant, but Captain Chasteway has already authorised us to beam down certain radiation that will safely disperse it."

Pam was astonished. Lieutenant Beatrice was right about the mole. She palped her breast, and quickly discerned the lump. It was tiny, but naturally she felt worried.

"Why didn’t Captain Chasteway mention this lump when I was with her?"

"It’s not a problem, Pam. We’re sorting it!"

"OK. Er, thanks, Virtue3. You’re sure your radiation will deal with it?"

"Absolutely. It’ll be gone in five of your days. You’ll notice the difference within one day."

Well, thought Pam, she got the mole right, and her intentions seem quite benign. She felt the little lump again. Maybe she was imagining it, but she thought it already felt slightly smaller.

"OK, Virtue 3, here’s my problem. My controller seems to be working fine, and I think I’ve acquainted myself thoroughly with the things it will do, but there’s one thing that worries me. The whole setup seems to be rigged to prevent masturbation, which suits me well, but suppose Alan decides to try getting his pleasure with the help of another woman? Is there any way I can prevent this? Or can I, at least, keep a watchful eye on any liaisons he might set up? He’s got a rather attractive secretary at work."

"That’s easy, Pam. Didn’t Captain Chasteway mention the star-hash-three option?"

"Er, no."

"Try it. Now."

Pam picked up the controller, and pressed *#3. The little screen on the controller became a full-colour image of what Alan himself was seeing.

"Pam, what can you see now?"

"He’s at Waterloo Station, looking for a taxi."

"Press *#5" Pam did so.

"Hey, this is great! Now I can hear what he’s saying. He’s just hailed a taxi, and he’s going to his office."

"OK, Pam, stay with it. Any problems, you know how to contact us. Log off now. Remember, we’re always available. Bye."

"Bye." Pam logged out, and turned off the computer.

+++++

Alan flashed his security card and strolled into the atrium of Sangulian Tower. His eyes lit up as he noticed that Sue, his secretary, was waiting to catch the lift.

"Hi. Sweetie! Have a good weekend?"

Sue smiled. "Sure did!" she said. The lift door opened and they entered. Sue pressed the button for the 23rd floor. "It’d have been better if we could have been together, though," she added, pressing her body gently against Alan’s. His arms went naturally around her and, as they kissed, his fingers cupped her superb young arse.

"You know I can’t get away at weekends, darling!" he said. "Not yet, anyway."

Their little affair had only been running for a couple of weeks, and so far they’d fucked three times. The first had been a spur-of-the-moment screw in the little store-room annexed to his office. After that, they’d both taken a couple of afternoons off to enjoy some more civilised and leisurely fucking at Sue’s little city apartment. Sue was cool about it -- she made it clear she enjoyed the sex. From Alan’s viewpoint, though, it went deeper than that. One fuck was just fortuitous. Two was conformation. Three, though, meant that he possessed her.

Poor Alan. He never did quite understand the complicated nature of the female mind.

+++++

Pam smirked. Alan had a surprise coming to him when he got home that evening.

+++++

Alan’s train journey back to Oxshott was uneventful, except for the paper-bag wielding guy who’d joined them at Wimbledon and tried -- unsuccessfully -- to convince them that (a) he had actually paid the first-class fare and (b) glue-sniffing was a perfectly legitimate practice that everyone ought to try. Luckily the fanatic was persuaded, by the guard, to leave the train at Surbiton, and Alan was able to relax for ten minutes until the train reached Oxshott. Usually Pam would have been there to meet him with their 4x4, but today there was nothing. He set out to walk the few hundred yards to their home.

"I’m home!" he announced as he came through the front door.

"Good," said Pam. "Do the washing up before you go upstairs to change!"

Alan ignored her, and went upstairs. As he took off his jacket, the first orgasmic surge hit him. He quickly took off his trousers and underpants and tried to meet the challenge with his own hands, but of course he couldn’t find his cock. He had enough presence of mind to lie down on the bed instead of collapsing to the floor, expecting the orgasm to be long and painful, and tried to relax.

There was less cum than there had been that morning, but the agonising pulses continued. He watched, frustrated, as his inaccessible cock jerked emptily, sending the occasional tiny blob of clear juice in a tiny arc onto his heaving chest.

Pam stood in the doorway of their bedroom, watching the writhing form of her husband. She pressed the ‘+’ key on her controller, and smiled as Alan’s cum-less orgasm increased in intensity. He wasn’t even producing the clear pre-cum. His sac felt as empty as a balloon that had had all the air sucked out of it. His cock, still rock hard and spasming every two seconds or so, felt as if it had been stuck up the business end of an industrial vacuum cleaner for a couple of hours.

"Want to do the washing up yet?" she enquired.

Alan groaned. "Oh, fuck!" he gasped. "OK! Just turn that fucking thing off!"

Pam hadn’t yet become a total sadist. She pressed the ‘cancel’ button and watched, intrigued, as Alan’s unproductive erection gradually subsided.

"Are you sure you wouldn’t just like to lie there for a while and masturbate? That’s what you usually do when you get home from work!"

Alan said nothing. She held up the little controller and made to press another button.

"No, no, Mistress! I’d rather do the dishes! Really!"

"Then get yourself completely naked, and go downstairs and do them!" Pam turned on her heel. "Now!" she added, before disappearing towards the sitting room.

She didn’t turn on the TV until she heard the sound of plates being splashed in hot water.

+++++

Pam didn’t usually watch Coronation Street, but the papers had been full of comment about a character in the soap opera who was supposed to be a serial killer and she was curious. She enjoyed the half-hour programme while Alan was busy in the kitchen. The closing credits were playing when Alan finally came, still naked, into the sitting room. He carefully set down a cup of Blue Mountain blend coffee on the side table beside Pam’s armchair, just inches away from the little device that had so far caused him so much discomfort.

"All done, Mistress," said Alan. "Can’t you turn that fucking thing off now?"

"Fucking thing?" Pam enquired. "What, the TV? No, I’m still watching it. Or maybe you mean my little controller?"

She picked up the coffee and took a leisurely sip. Alan said nothing. Casually she took the controller in her left hand and began to play with the buttons. Alan felt a delicious twitching in his groin. His right hand reached automatically for his cock, but once again he came up against that curious invisible barrier.

"Sit down, Alan," ordered Pam. He moved towards his usual armchair, but his Mistress motioned for him to sit facing her on the three-seater sofa opposite. The gentle, satisfying twitching of his gonads continued. He clasped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, giving himself up to the sensations. A little, relaxed smile formed on his face. Pam could see him writhing ever so slightly in an effort to enhance the pleasure.

"Nice?" she enquired softly. Alan nodded, still smiling.

"Thanks for doing the dishes. I’ll leave you on ‘mild pleasure’ for a few minutes. But then I want to go over a few little points that you need to know."

Ten minutes later Pam switched off the TV and returned her controller to its default setting. Alan had actually dozed off! She went over to stand over his naked form and nudged him with her foot.

"OK," she said firmly, once he was awake and sitting a little straighter. "Tell me how you got on at the office today."

Alan shrugged. "Norman was out, so we all had an extra bit of work to do. I had to skip lunch to keep abreast of things. Apart from that it was just an ordinary day."

"No problems with this little thing?" she asked, pointing at his limp, gold-ringed cock.

"Only when you tweaked it with that infernal device of yours, while I was waiting for the train. Oh, and of course I couldn’t go to the toilet standing up, could I? It’s a bit difficult to open a zip and aim at the urinal if your hands won’t go anywhere within six inches of your dick! I had to use a cubicle and sit down with my pants round my ankles! Twice!"

"And how’s Sue?" she enquired sweetly.

"Sue"

"Yes, Sue! Your secretary."

"Oh, Sue! Well, she was as efficient as usual. I’m lucky to have her."

Hmm, mused Pam silently. You’ll be lucky if you ever ‘have’ her again, you masturbating, philandering bastard. But she said nothing.

"How did you manage to do up your zip after you went to the loo?"

"Easy! Looped a bit of string through the hole in the tab, and pulled it up once I’d done up my belt."

That was true, on his second toilet break. The first time he’d had to leave it undone, and Sue had helped him out. Naturally she’d let her fingers explore inside the zip first, and she’d discovered Alan’s new penis adornment. He’d explained it away as a little toy he was experimenting with. Sue had wanted him to lower his trousers and let her take a close look, but a knock on his office door had brought an abrupt end to that little exchange. Pam, of course, had witnessed all this on the screen of her little controller.

"Look, Pam," said Alan, trying to adopt a matter-of-fact, equable tone of voice. "You’ve had your fun with this device of yours. Don’t you think it’s time you turned it off and let me remove this infernal cock-ring? It wasn’t too bad today, but it could become bloody inconvenient! I’ve got an image to maintain at the office! If I have to use a fucking cubicle every time I need a piss the lads are going to start asking questions!"

Pam pressed her hash key once. "What was that, Alan?" she asked. Alan stood, then fell to his knees before his wife.

"Mistress, please don’t do this to me!" he implored. "I need a degree of control over my own life. Are you trying to turn me into a sexless zombie?"

She pressed another key, and Alan felt his cock begin to stiffen. He looked at his Mistress, wondering what he could do to please her. Somehow, his concerns about life at the office seemed less important than keeping his darling Mistress happy.

"No, Alan. I’m trying to turn you into a real man, one who attends to the needs of his wife instead of spewing his semen all over the bed and expecting me to lie in the wet patches." She raised her bum from her armchair and lifted her skirt, revealing a pantie-less crutch. "Show me that you love me!" she ordered, pressing the hash key once again.

Alan’s eyes were riveted to the beautiful, pink flower that blossomed where his Mistress’s legs met her adorable body. He was drawn to it. An agonisingly hard erection manifested between his legs, but that was unimportant -- his main role in life was to please his Mistress. He had to show her that he loved her! He wanted to kiss that exquisite flower, to taste its honey, to make it burgeon and overflow with the juices of love. Gradually he was drawn to it, and his lips met the love-lips of the Mistress that once was his wife.

His tongue stroked the hot, soft flesh, evoking sighs of pleasure from his darling lady. Images of Sue’s delicious young cunt came unbidden to his mind, but he felt compelled to dismiss these thoughts and pay total attention to the Mistress that owned him, possessed his very soul. He worked on those sweaty labia, that engorged clitoris, his sole purpose in life being to provide pleasure where he’d previously found nothing but a dull, boring fuck.

He knew intuitively what to do. Gradually the juices began to flow from that fecund flower. He lapped them up, swallowed them, and continued with his devoted attentions. Pam sighed, remembering how things used to be when they were first married, and spread her legs a little wider. Alan’s head bored deeper into her, his tongue exploring places that hadn’t been pleasured since those early days when his cock would set up a frantic rhythm that culminated in a quick expulsion of seed before he withdrew and fell asleep. But now the action was all designed for her delight, not his. Suddenly she shook with the pleasure of an orgasm that she hadn’t experienced since that one time shortly after they married. But Alan, under the influence of Pam’s amazing little controller, had no option but to continue with his work, and gradually he brought her to the brink of a second shattering orgasm. And a third. And a fourth.

It was his duty. He performed it well. The controller merely led him in the right direction, and gave him the right incentive. Pam sighed a deep sigh of true contentment, then pressed the star button. Reluctantly her slave (for that was what he was now) drew back from the soft flesh that had been his mind’s only object of desire. He looked into his Mistress’s eyes.

"More, Mistress?"

"No, Alan. That’s enough for now." She pressed the hash button, restoring Alan to his true mind but leaving him still unable to access his penis. "There’s a whole load of washing that needs doing, including all the clothes you’ve polluted with your disgusting seed. Once you’ve done that, you can go to bed. I’m going to sit here for a while and watch TV, then I’ll surf the web for a while. There are a few things I need to know before you go off to your office tomorrow morning."

"Shit! You mean I’m still not going to be rid of this fucking penis ring thing?"

"No, darling! That’s permanent! Just go and deal with the laundry. If you do a good job, maybe I’ll find a way to share a little pleasure with you tonight!" Pam waved her hand dismissively.

"Yes, Mistress!" replied Alan. It wasn’t the controller that told him to respond that way. Alan was at last beginning to realise that Pam was his Mistress. He wondered what the night, and the following day, would hold for him.

==============================================================

To be continued....

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Page last updated 04-Jan-17 by: Altairboy@aol.com