debbies-gift.pt1
 mf, heavy f-dom, heavy sm, sf, series?

"Here, let me put this on you," and with a gentle yet firm and determined
push, she managed his penis and testicles fully through a silver ring. With
an unexpected twist of her soft white hand, she tightened the ring and the
shiny metal glimmered through his dark hair. She knelt back, her white legs
in sharp contrast to her red silk chemise, and smiled. "Now that wasn't too
bad, was it?"

He bent down to inspect the new gadget that his wife had just secured onto
him and was surprised that the cold and uncomfortable metal he expected to
feel was really a warm and snug addition to his cleansed body. The shower
left his skin damp, but Debbie had dried him herself, carefully and coolly
with a plush aqua towel, kissing and massaging his most private areas before
slipping the pink ring onto its nesting place. In the height of one of their
frequent passionate sessions last week, Ron had agreed (and he would have
agreed to just about anything then) to become her slave, her sex slave
specifically, and this ring was her gift and reminder of his promise.

"You are really mine, now," Debbie said as she slipped carefully and
noiselessly up to a standing position and brought a bright pink net out of
the folds of her silk robe. "Watch what this does. The ring is magnetic and
this net's filament is attracted to it. This is your new outfit. Are you
ready?"

Ron gave a silent nod and watched intently as her long red nails worked the
netting onto the ring. He stood naked except for the bright net bag guarding
his penis and testicles and wondered about its purpose. It surely was a
bright, hot pink! Debbie held out her arms to him and he stepped forward to
embrace her.

"No!" she mumbled, "not until I give you permission. You cannot do anything
until I give you permission. Do you remember your promise?"

Ron giggled. This was getting pretty funny. A sharp swift pain in his
testicles and penis silenced him and brought him to his knees. "What the
hell..."

"You made a promise and I intend to have you fulfill it," she spoke with a
low sultry voice that was new to his ears. "Perhaps you need more training.
More expert training. Let me explain what this ring can do and what you are
going to learn to become a sex slave that pleases me every day."

Ron struggled to look up at her from his kneeling position as he continued
to grab at his pained and maligned genitals with both hands in an
unsuccessful effort to comfort them. His tingling penis told him in no
uncertain terms that this ring was a significantly different from the other
"toys" they shared in their rather enjoyable love-making. He finally looked
up and saw her flowing red robe standing over him, her black stilletto heels
ominously close to his still-tingling crotch. Her raven hair flowed around
her diamond-studded ear lobes and those milky shoulders he loved to nuzzle.
Her blue eyes pierced his now-fading smile. Holding out her left arm, she
showed him a bracelet--at least he thought it was a bracelet--with
multicolored stones on a leather backing. She held a perfectly manicured
finger above a stone.

"This is a trainer," she continued, "and it will convince you that obeying
me at all times is the best course of action for you. Any disobedience on
your part will be rewarded with a squeeze as you just experienced that will
help convince you I mean business. The netting is retractable, and it has
other interesting capabilities. The only thing you need to know is that I
control its total operation and if you attempt to remove it without the
proper sequence of buttons on my wrist, you will experience a rather," she
paused for a second as if looking for the right word, "uncomfortable shock.
A rather painful uncomfortable shock. I want you to understand that you will
be trained to be the slave you promised to be. Do you understand what I'm
saying?"

Ron did not move from his totally submissive position on the floor directly
at her feet. Gazing up at her, his mind wanted to be outraged; his body
wanted to yell, flail, kick, and hit at her. But he knew he did not think he
could either experience or tolerate a second or possibly higher dose of that
pain. Was she kidding?

"I said, `Do you understand?'" And in a flash, Ron was writhing on the
floor, grabbing at his crushing testicles with both hands.

"Answer me!" she spoke firmly and flatly. There was no compassion in that
sultry voice, only authority and expectation of an answer.

"Yes," he whimpered, "yes, yes, yes! Make it stop!" He was screaming now and
rolling his six foot frame into a ball at her feet as he tried to loosen the
death grip of the pink net on his genitals. She watched him cooly, counted
to five, and pushed a single button. He fell limp, his face at her feet, his
eyes uncomprehending anything except the experience and memory of the pain.

"Good. You are now ready to begin the training."

Ron gazed up at her through the involuntary tears that filled and then
spilled forth from his eyes and onto his clean-shaven face, and his prone
body was greeted with the crashing sound of their bedroom door flying open.
Three men rushed in, scooped him up, and wrapped a black cape around his
head and body. Naked and screaming inside the black shroud, Ron was hauled
down the stairs, out the back door, and into a waiting limousine that began
moving as the three men flung him inside, entered themselves, and shut the
door. In the black of the night, he was whisked away. Debbie casually walked
down the same stairs, locked the back door, and stared out into the dark
night. She poured herself a drink, Amaretto and cream--her favorite--and
went to the master suite to relax on the king size bed.