I could feel my cock begin to stir within its confines, and I silently cursed the device's effectiveness. The slightest twitch sent waves of uncomfortable pressure coursing through my trapped member, reigniting the maddening arousal that had been my constant companion since I first laid eyes on Mistress.
"Now," Mistress purred, her crimson lips curved in a wicked smile, "we can begin the real lesson."
With a flick of her wrist, she attached a lead to the collar's ring, the clink of metal against metal sending a shudder down my spine. "Please lay on carpet Mr. James" she commanded, her voice low and authoritative.
I obeyed without hesitation, sinking to my hands and knees on the cold stone floor. The action caused the iron ring to press further into my crotch, the pressure nearly unbearable. I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to groan as the device whispered obscene promises of pleasure and pain.
"Wider," Mistress growled, her voice laced with impatience. I spread my legs as far as they would go, the muscles in my thighs trembling with the effort. The position exposed me further, the cool air of the dungeon brushing against my heated skin.
"Mmm," Mistress purred, her heels clicking on the stone floor as she circled me. "Perfect."She stopped behind me, and I braced myself for whatever was to come next. My breath caught in my throat as I felt something cold and hard press against my entrance. My entire body tensed, every nerve ending on high alert.
"Relax," she commanded, her voice firm but strangely soothing. "It'll be easier if you just let go."
I closed my eyes and tried to focus on her words, willing myself to relax despite the foreign sensation invading my most private space.
Mistress's soft fingers squeezed my scrotum, starting off gently but gradually tightening her grip. At the same time, she began to mumble something in a language I didn't understand. Even in my aroused state, my trapped penis remained limp and unresponsive. As she continued her incantation, I could feel a strange tingling sensation radiating from her fingertips and spreading through my groin.
After what felt like an eternity, Mistress finally released her hold on me and stepped back. I let out a shaky breath, relieved that the uncomfortable sensation had subsided. Cautiously, I reached down to check on my testicles, half-expecting them to be bruised from her vice-like grip. My heart skipped a beat when I felt something different—a raised marking right in the middle of my scrotum.
I angled my hips to catch a better glimpse of the new addition in a nearby mirror. There it was: a heart-shaped tattoo, etched into my skin as if it had always been there. The sight of it sent a shiver down my spine; I knew all too well the implications of such a marking from the hentai comics I'd read in secret over the years.
My eyes widened in shock as I stared at the heart-shaped tattoo etched into my scrotum. Despite the shudder of discomfort, my cock remained trapped and limp, haunted by the lingering aura of inversion which permeated the room.
I had always been fascinated by erotic tales of transformation, the idea of changing oneself through magic or science to satisfy forbidden lusts. Now, I was living out my darkest fantasies, the helpless plaything of an enigmatic mistress who seemed to know my every sordid secret.
then
"Good boy," Mistress purred, her full red lips curling into a wicked grin. She caressed my heart tattoo with a slim, crimson-nailed finger, the sensation both intimate and degrading.
I shivered under her touch, a mix of shame and masochistic delight surging through my body. I knew instinctively that this was just the beginning of my transformation, a tantalizing glimpse of the perverse delights to come.
"Now," she commanded, her voice a seductive purr, "it's time for your next lesson."
"Please get up and sit down, Mr. James," Mistress commanded.
I rose to my feet, my legs shaky from kneeling on the cold stone floor for so long. My cock still trapped in its unyielding prison, I lowered myself onto the leather bench as instructed, my legs still spread wide apart. Mistress moved behind me, her voluptuous body settling in close. Her soft breasts pressed against my back, their weight both comforting and suffocating at the same time.
One of her hands rested on my chest and her other hand trailed down to my testicles, her fingertips dancing over the fresh heart tattoo before lightly caressing the sensitive skin around it. The contrast between her delicate touch and the iron collar around my neck was jarring yet strangely arousing.
"You're doing so well," she purred into my ear, her breath hot against my skin. "I knew you had it in you."
With all this erotic stuff happening, I really want my penis to feel something. But it's useless and it's already locked in the device. And my impotent cock is still dead and doesn't move even an inch. Can i be cured?
"Carla, now begin the dancing ritual," Mistress commanded, her voice filled with anticipation.