Nothing Like The Sun: Four (F/m) Chapter Four: The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers Saturday Morning i woke, cold and stiff, in the steel pan of the training crate. i was only mildly pleased that my dick had regained its ability to harden sometime during my fitful sleep. She'd left me tied to the rafter for the longest hour of my life. It became an endless blur of slipping, swinging and struggling to regain my footing, only to lose it again moments later. By the time She returned i was ready to scream my safeword loud enough to wake the neighborhood. i wanted to get the fuck out of there and never look back. Then i saw Her. She was flushed, Her hair was out of place and Her naked body was covered in sweat. i wasn't an expert, but She smelled like sex. A rapturous smile beamed from Her features. She was so beautiful that She was painful to behold, and all thoughts of my safeword fled me as She removed the slimy gag. She untied my tormented genitals, and i stumbled backwards. She guided my fall so that i landed hard on the little padded stool. Before i knew what was happening, She was on top of me, straddling me. Her mouth fixed to mine, hungrily sucking the breath from my body. Warm droplets fell on the tender flesh of my bruised and useless cock. It was over too soon. She climbed off me and for a second more our lips were connected by a thin filament of saliva. She unbound my arms, but left the hateful, grinding shoes on. "I like the way they define your calves," She explained with a malicious twinkle in Her eye. She led me to the crate and ordered me to crawl in. There wasn't nearly enough room to stretch out, so i had to fold my cramped, aching body into a fetal ball. She closed the gate and fastened the latch, not bothering to lock it. There wasn't enough room inside for me to turn around and get at it. Before shutting off the light and leaving me there for the rest of the evening, She said, "By the way, michael, you have my permission to masturbate if you like. Only," Her voice grew stern, "I don't want to see a single drop of spunk in the morning, you get me?" i nodded weakly. "Yes Mistress." i remembered how my semen had tasted when she'd forced me to clean Her hand at the movie. my stomach churned at the prospect of having to lick up any more. Besides, my penis hurt so much the last thing i wanted to do was touch it. i had my doubts it would ever work properly again. The dungeon had no windows, and with the door at the top of the stairs closed, i had no way of knowing what time of day it was. As i laid in the cold and the dark, i began to halfheartedly stroke my sore cock. It was hard for me to imagine that twenty-four hours earlier i had been jerking off under the steaming rush of water from my own shower; fantasizing about this very moment. i'd wisely gone to the bathroom repeatedly before leaving work the other day; but even so, i hadn't been since, and the pressure in my bladder was mounting painfully. The lights came on with an audible snap, and i writhed in my cage, temporarily blinded. When my sight returned, She was staring down at me through the bars of the crate. i gaped at Her with dumb astonishment. She was dressed like a cheerleader, Her fuzzy sweater and short, pleated skirt all in orange and black. A tiger logo was embroidered on the sweater, and Her hair was all done up in a ponytail. Lastly, She had on a pair of new Air Jordans, the kind with the broad bands of black patent leather; and i couldn't help noticing that they did, in fact, reflect up. She undid the latch on the crate and as i slowly crawled out backwards, She rocked up and down on Her feet. i gathered myself into a pile of human flesh on the floor and gazed up at Her, expectantly. "What's the matter, michael? Not fetishy enough for you?" "It's just not the fetish i..." "Well - F - U - C - K - Y - O - U!" She cheered, forming the each letter as She went. "This morning I feel horny! Horny! Horny! Horny!" She cried out, leaping into the air. She stopped suddenly and cocked Her head to one side, giving me a quizzical look. Again, She seemed to read my thoughts with unsettling accuracy. "No, michael, I am not on drugs! It's just when I get all horny like this, I get... bouncy." "Like Tigger," i said with a weary, but understanding smile. For one wondrous moment the frenetic, sex-kitten facade dissolved, leaving in its wake the most warm and genuine smile of pure delight i had ever seen. "Exactly." She studied me for a minute, Her face lit up like a child who'd discovered their new toy had a feature they hadn't known about. It hadn't been that much of a guess for me really. i'd already suspected She liked tigers. Her screen name, P.t.altaic, was a compacted version of the scientific name for the Siberian tiger: Panthera tigris altaica. "Who was your favorite character, michael?" She asked intently. "Uh, Eeyore, i guess..." "Mistress," i added quickly. She laughed. "I should have guessed." "Well, michael, I'm sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for," She indicated Her outfit, "but the fact is that I do get bouncy when I'm all excited. And when I get like this I like to move. All those Dressing for Pleasure sorts of outfits are lovely to look at, but they're confining as hell. "Still," She added thoughtfully, "it doesn't quite seem fair to you, does it? I'm sure your head was filled with all sorts of visions of hobble skirts and corsets and studded bustiers. And..." Her grin turned evil. "Lovely, lovely high heels." She ordered me to my feet and took me to the wardrobes. There, She pulled out a satin corselette. She had to set it on the floor so i could step into it, and then She hefted it into place and began puling mercilessly at the laces. i couldn't help but think of those giant snakes that kill their prey by wrapping around a victim and then tensing up their muscles every time the poor animal breathed out. The compression of my torso almost proved to be more than my strained bladder could bear. "Mistress, please," i grunted. "Is something wrong, michael?" "i have to use the bathroom, Mistress." "My, how thoughtless of me. Well, come along my pet." She tied up the laces, leaving my body with just a hint of an hourglass figure; then took me by the hand and led me to the john just off the dungeon. Because of the bathtub, the room felt incredibly cramped. The toilet was small and low to the ground. Instead of leaving me to my business, Mistress sat down on the edge of the tub and batted Her eyes at me. "Well?" i'd always been shy about using public rest rooms, and to make matters worse, the corselette held my body in a straight vertical line while my stiff penis jutted out from my body at a right angle. If i were to go, it would shoot right over the bowl and splatter against the wall. i tried to relax, let my mind drift. "Would it help if I told you that if you spill anywhere but the bowl, I expect you to clean it up?" There wasn't any toilet paper. "Thank you, Mistress." i tried again to calm down. i thought about work and all the things i'd have to get done on Monday. "Still feeling self-conscious?" "Yes, Mistress." "Look up." i did. There was a camera in one of the corners. Bitch! Bitch! Bitch! She laughed. "All right, michael, I'll let you make pee-pee in peace." She stood and leaned in close to me, whispering, "I can always catch it on instant replay." She handed me a strange belt with metals rings set into the leather. "Put this on when you're done." Even after She left me, it took a while for me to get soft enough to aim my piss into the toilet. i was almost finished when some of it accidentally spattered on the rim. i swore loudly, but there was nothing i could do. i had a devil of a time kneeling down. i licked swiftly and with my eyes closed; as if it would somehow make the act less repellent if i couldn't see what i was doing. It was even harder to stand back up again, and i practically had to climb the toilet to regain my feet. Once i was up, i turned to the task of putting on the belt. Actually, it was more like three belts. The thickest obviously went around my waist. The other two started out as a single, broad flap connected to the first and the forked off into two thinner ones. The rings were set in the flap, which i began to realize was supposed to come down over my crotch. The thin belts then ran around the cheeks of my ass to connect up again with the thick one. i held no illusions as to what the rings were for. That whole part of my body was already one giant bruise, yet, grimacing, i threaded my soft cock through the largest hole. It hardened instantly and painfully. my testicles were worse, though. They were as soft as they were going to get, and i had to squash them brutally to force them through their holes. the whole region throbbed in agony. Crying, wobbling, i went back into the dungeon. Mistress was standing by a sawhorse with a padded leather cover. She waved me over. "Took you long enough," She chided, but She was still smiling. She inspected the belt thoroughly, giving each afflicted element its own nasty little squeeze. "Is it too much, michael?" i couldn't lie. "It is very close, Mistress." She must have been a formidable poker player. Her expression was completely unreadable. "I'd intended to gag you again, and strap you down pretty good. You'd better decide now if you can't go much farther." i remembered the way she'd looked coming down the stairs the night before; the way She looked when i caught the "Tigger" reference. "Please Mistress. Please use this body to please yourself." She nodded curtly and then knelt down beside me. She attached padded cuffs to each of my ankles and in turn locked the cuffs to the legs of the sawhorse, thus spreading my own legs wide apart. She made me put the sleeve back on, and when i had that done She gently pushed me forward over the horse. It was fixed to a circular wooden base, and i could see that sunk into that base was another eyebolt. She took a leather lead and snapped one end to my collar. Forcing me to bend even further, stretching all my muscles to their limits, She snapped the other end of the lead to the metal loop. She showed me what looked like a rubber cup with straps attached, only as She turned it i could see a big, fat penis sticking out of the center. She didn't say so, but i think She held it out like that to give me one last chance to back out. In Her other hand She had a squirt bottle with what appeared to be urine in it. "It's not piss," She explained, squirting the penis in the gag liberally. "It's much worse than piss." She let me see the label before shoving the gag into my mouth. It was bitter apple extract; used to discourage dogs from chewing on themselves or the furniture. It tasted like a dead skunk's ass. She moved around to the rear of my gagging, writhing form and tenderly put Her hands on my ass. The soft warm skin against my cold, tense flesh felt unbearably good. She began to massage me: my ass and thighs and lower back. Nothing i had ever done to myself could ever hope to compare with the pleasure She was giving me. my body was used to thinking of pleasure as only stemming from one place. Whenever anything sensual had happened to me, the signals were instantly rerouted to my groin. But now all the nerves in that area were busy: lit up with wave after wave of excruciating pain. i felt a rush of epicurean warmth deep in my anus that i had never thought possible. "Do you know why I chose you?" She asked. Not that i could answer. Not that i wanted to answer and disrupt the feeling growing inside my body. "Out of all those E-mails I get daily, what could have possibly moved me to respond to yours? Hmmm? Haven't you wondered?" i had. Obsessively. But it hardly seemed to matter now. "It's because you're a virgin, michael." That actually surprised me enough to break my reverie. i'd agonized over putting that fact in my initial message, but i knew when the time came i wouldn't be able to fake experience i didn't have. i was convinced it would be the one thing that sent Her scrambling for the DELETE button, but i also felt that honesty was about all i had going for me. It was a shock to hear that for once i was right. "All we do here, all the games we play, michael, are all really about power; and power, for a man, translates as his manhood." i heard the snap of a rubber glove. "I do what I can to strip them of that. I degrade men, dress them as women and deny them their cock, but it's all symbolic. I can't really take away the one experience that really makes them a man. You don't have that experience, michael. Your body is mature, but you're not a man, and as long as you're my slave you never will be." Her gloved finger began to play with my asshole, smearing some cold, slimy lubricant around it. She slipped it in me a little bit and out again. In and out, playfully spreading the jelly. i could hear Her peel the glove off and drop it to the floor. Her hands grasped my hips firmly. "Can you imagine how excited that makes me? How hot I get knowing that you're sacrificing your manhood? That its very existence is in my hands? Just to please me." Cold, hard rubber poked at my hole. i felt the tension building in Her through Her hands as She prepared to ram it home. "I'm very pleased."