Nothing Like The Sun: Seven-A (F/m)
                                                  Chapter Seven: Workouts      
 
    
 Part One: Monday Afternoon.        
        
   Normally i'd hit the john and change into my sweats with five minutes or so
left to go before the end of the day. That Monday, i waited until five minutes
after, making sure the office had cleared out.        
        
   On top of the bruises, i now had a rash covering my genital region thanks to
Mistress' wet panties. It itched mercilessly. The elastic waist band had sliced
deep into my midriff and people had begun noticing a faint odor about me by
after lunch.        
        
   "Mexican food," i tried to explain with a laugh, but the smell was much
pissier in nature.        
        
   By contrast, my gym sweats hung on my body like a tent. i had to take the
string in my pants and make yet another knot. Part of it was the fact that i
hadn't eaten more than a few bites since Thursday morning. i'd been too nervous
for lunch; afraid i might vomit under the stress i knew i'd be facing that
evening. A similar sense of queasiness kept me from eating at all on Friday,
and Mistress Catherine did not exactly serve meals in Her dungeon.        
        
   When i'd gotten home late Sunday afternoon, i'd immediately went to the
bedroom and collapsed, sleeping in till the alarm went off the next morning.
And i'd taken my lunch break that day to make a quick trip to Barnes & Noble to
pick up something i'd thought of in a rare flash of inspiration. For one second
i thought i'd actually seen Mistress there, in the mystery section of all
places, but i wrote it off to wishful thinking.         
        
    It had been a terrible strain all day to keep Her edict about my not being
able to masturbate. Still, i knew i couldn't break it and get away with it. Her
eyes looked straight into me. That night would go murderously slow by myself in
that apartment.        
        
    Which was another reason i was in little hurry to get out to the gym that
night.        
        
   As i slouched out through the reception area, i was surprised to see
Lindsey, the receptionist, still at her desk. The consensus among my fellow
workers was that Lindsey had to be a lesbian because she A: had three piercings
in one ear, and B: had somehow managed to resist the charms of every guy in the
office who had asked her out. By my count, that was all of them except me.     
   
        
   It had become customary on Monday mornings to stand around the "water
cooler" (which was really a coke machine) and make up all kinds of filthy
stories about Lindsey's wild, concupiscent weekends. Because i wouldn't play,
there were a few nasty stories told about me as well.        
        
   "Night, Lindsey," i said, making a B-line for the door.        
        
   "Uh, Mr. R- ?" she asked.        
        
   "Yeah?" i turned to look at her.        
        
   "Could I, like, say something?"        
        
   "Uh, sure Lindsey." We hardly ever said more than four words to each other a
day. "Morning!" "Good Night!" and brief exchanges when she had to transfer a
phone call to me. i always tried to be friendly and courteous, in part to make
up for the cretinous behavior of my fellow employees.        
        
   "It's just... I hope you don't get, like, offended or something?"        
        
   "Uh huh?"        
        
   "But it's just... you really need to buy some new clothes. I mean - that's a
good thing, y'know?"        
        
   "Yeah, you're probably right about that."        
        
   "I mean, if you had some clothes that fit, you'd look pretty, I don't know,
good, you know?"        
        
   "Really?" i asked, genuinely curious.        
        
    She rolled her eyes. "Oh jeez!" she moaned. "I didn't mean - I wasn't -
it's not that..."        
        
   "Whoa, easy there," i said, trying to calm her down.        
        
   "It's just, I like you and all, you're really nice to me, but it's not
like..."        
        
    "You just want to be friends."        
        
    "Oh jeez! I hate that!"        
        
    i laughed. "Usually I do too, Lindsey. But this time, for once, it's not
that bad a thing."        
        
   She looked at me, slightly astonished.        
        
   "Really?"        
        
    "Really," i said smiling calmly.        
        
    "I just thought, you should, like, know - about the clothes and all."      
 
        
    "Like I said, you're right about that. I guess I've had a lot going on in
my life recently to worry about my wardrobe too much."         
        
    "Yeah, you could tell," she said, nodding.        
        
    "Oh could you?"        
        
   "Oh, yeah! Like, last week you were the biggest spas. I thought somebody was
going to throttle you, and now today you came in here like, I dunno, Michael
Jordan or something."        
        
   i looked at her blankly.        
        
   "You know... cool."        
        
   "Oh," i said in a soft, surprised voice. "Thank you." Of course, i was
standing across the room from her, and she probably would've taken it back if
she could've smelled me, but it still meant a lot.        
        
   "Yeah," she said again, smiling warmly at me. i smiled back at her.        
        
   i drove to the gym with the word "cool" still reverberating in my ears. i'd
always been the nice one, the safe one, never the cool one. When i parked my
car, i took a moment to check myself out in the rearview mirror. Some idiot,
trying to look cool, stared back at me.        
        
   i checked in at the front desk and climbed up the stairs to the main weight
room. i didn't get three steps in before i froze, my heart seizing up in my
chest.        
        
   She was there.        
        
   She had on a black Lycra leotard and powder blue shorts. Her hair was back
up in a pony tail and She was chatting, no, flirting with a small group of
resident stud muffins who had gathered around Her like pigs to a troth. She
looked over at the stairs, saw me and grinned triumphantly.        
        
   She'd said, the night before, that the earliest i could hope to see Her
again would be Tuesday. i wondered if this was still another test; if She was
expecting me to approach Her or not.        
        
   i decided to go with my initial instructions and not make contact. i got my
card, and had intended to go through my usual routine. There was a smiley face
drawn on it in pencil, along with a capital "C."        
        
   According to my schedule, i was supposed to work on my upper body, so i went
over to the butterfly machine. Next, the curls.         
        
   Next came the bench press. i slid myself under the bar and began to go
through my usual series of two sets of fifteen reps. When i was up to the tenth
rep of the second set, i felt a shifting of weight at the front of the bench. i
looked up; She was sitting at the edge. Her knees touched mine and our legs
were pressed together all the way down our shins. She planted Her feet on top
of mine, and our thighs made a diamond shape with a sensual no-man's-land in
the space inside. People began to stop and stare.         
        
   "Don't let Me bother you," She said.        
        
   "Um, actually i was nearly finished, Mistress."        
        
   "Nonsense, michael, I won't hear of it. Do continue."        
        
   Not knowing what else to do, i finished my set and began another one. my
arms and chest began to tire.        
        
    "It was very rude of you not to say hello to Me when you came in, michael."
       
        
    "i... wasn't... sure... Mistress." my words came out between deep breaths.
The weights seemed to grow heavier with each lift.        
        
    "It's very intimidating coming to a strange place and being all alone,
michael."        
        
    i almost laughed at "all alone." i finished my third set and let go of the
bar. She pressed down on the tops of my feet with Her own, and i took the bar
up again to do a fourth set. my muscles were really aching now. i was grunting
with every lift.        
        
   Halfway through the set, She leaned in so close that the top of Her head
almost touched the bar. She pushed my sweatshirt up my torso and lifted the
waist of my pants, craning Her head around to get a good look inside. One of
the female spectators gasped at Mistress' boldness.         
        
   She pulled herself back into an upright position and smiled broadly at me.  
     
        
   "Well, I guess I can forgive you just this once."        
        
   The smile suddenly turned into a frown.        
        
   "Jesus!" She said crossly. "Aren't you EVER going to be finished with that?"
       
        
    We went down to the juice bar after that. People pointed and whispered as
we passed by. She was skipping along like a schoolgirl, leading me by the hand.
       
        
   She stopped short at the glass counter. She looked to me and asked, "What do
you like, michael?"        
        
    i pointed to a bottle of flavored sparkling water.        
        
    "Cherry?" She scanned my face for any hint of sarcasm or irony. There was
none to find.        
        
   "Okay, what flavor don't you like?"        
        
   "Uh," i scanned the counter until i saw one that made me grimace. "Peach,
Mistress."        
        
   She turned to the teenager working the register. "One cherry, two peach,
please!"        
        
   We sat at a table and She pushed the two bottles of peach towards me,
twisting open the cherry and taking a long swig.        
        
   "you must be terribly thirsty michael, drink up!"        
        
   i took big long gulps, trying to get the unpleasant water past my taste buds
as quickly as possible.        
        
   She finished Her bottle and gave me a long penetrating stare.        
        
   "I wish you wouldn't look at Me that way, michael."        
        
   "Mistress?"        
        
   "you look as though I could puncture you with a needle and a thousand
questions would come rushing out at once. It's very annoying. I don't
appreciate being bombarded with questions, michael, even if they are unspoken
ones."        
        
    "Forgive me, Mistress," i pleaded, casting my eyes down at the table.      
 
        
   "I'm well aware I'm breaking My own orders by being here, michael. I have My
reasons. If you feel, however that this makes Me somehow untrustworthy then you
are free to end this relationship now. Or..." She waited until i looked up and
met Her gaze again. "We could go back to My house now. Which would you prefer?"
       
        
   We took separate cars back to Her house.         
        
    Before we left the gym, however, She stopped me at the door with a hand on
my chest.        
        
    "You don't think I'm letting you into My home all sweaty and disgusting
like this, do you michael?"        
        
    "But, Mistress, i usually take my shower when i get home."        
        
    She laughed. "Of course you do! I can imagine how being naked in front of
all those men who are so much bigger than you are," She glanced down at my
crotch, "must be extremely humiliating. But I'm afraid I must insist, My sweet.
You can either take a warm shower here as a prelude to an evening with
Mistress, or a cold shower by yourself back at your apartment."        
        
   Actually, being modestly endowed was the least of my concerns. By the time i
got into the locker room, most of the guys there had been present at Mistress'
show. Those few that hadn't had been brought up to speed, so when i entered the
room, an eerie calm settled over everything. The one mollifying thing about the
whole experience was that, of those who had seen Mistress, i got as many
envious looks as contemptuous ones.        
        
   i tried to pick a relatively deserted corner to undress; nearly impossible
considering that i was the center of attention. When i got my pants off, a
murmur ran through the room.         
        
   i thought i was going to have to cut Mistress' panties off of me. The
waistband had dug a trench around my equator. i finally wormed my body out of
them and ran a finger along the sore, red line bisecting me.        
        
   Guys took one look at my afflicted crotch and moved out of my way
wordlessly.        
        
   i didn't have a towel, so i used my sweatshirt instead, returning to the
parking lot in just my T-shirt. It had taken an act of will greater than any i
had ever known to put those panties back on again, but it was worth it.
Mistress was leaning up against the trunk of Her car, waiting for me. She
checked.        
        
    Before we left, She did a strange thing. She insisted i point out my car to
Her, and then gave me a very odd look once She had seen it. i wondered about
that the whole drive to Her place, but given Her expressed displeasure over my
curiosity, i forced myself to let it go.        
        
    i parked along the side of the road. She had gotten there ahead of me and
was standing on the lawn. When i walked over to Her, She gave me a warm wet
kiss and said, "Wait on the patio for about ten minutes." Then She giggled and
ran back up to the house. i stood there, letting the kiss linger in my mouth.
She tasted like cherries.        
        
   i suddenly remembered something i'd left in the car, so i went back to get
it before proceeding to the slave's entrance. i cooled my heels for the
requisite ten minutes, then entered, going through the same routine as before:
strip, garbage can, collar. i put the item from the car on the top of the pile,
so i could easily retrieve it later.        
        
   i walked into the dungeon and stopped. i made an inarticulate sound of awe
and pleasure.        
        
   She was dressed only in a pair of tight-fitting leather pants that laced up
the sides. She was beautiful. i fell to my knees.        
        
   She walked to me, Her pants making an incredibly exciting creak as She
moved. She took my hand and laid it on Her hip. my palm rested on the warm,
diamond shaped high relief of flesh formed by the laces; my fingers on the
cool, smooth surface of leather. She eased my hand down to Her knee.        
        
   i whimpered ecstatically.        
        
   She ran my hand back up to the swell of Her hip. i whimpered again.        
        
   "There now," She said in a seductive, hypnotic voice, "you've had your
dessert early tonight. Now it's time for the main course."        
        
  She had hooked up a sort of trapeze to the ceiling and it was just high
enough that i could reach it if i stood on my toes. She pulled over Her
stepladder and commanded me to do just that; and then locked my hands into
place with police cuffs.        
        
    She got down, put soft padded cuffs around my ankles and hooked a big
wooden rod between them; spreading my legs terribly wide. i was now practically
putting all my weight on my big toes. i tried to just hang from the bar, but
the muscles in my arms were tired and sore from all those extra bench presses. 
      
        
   The whole thing was really more tiring than sensual for me, and my penis
started to loll about in a semi-soft state.        
        
   Mistress circled me, and held up an object for my inspection. It was made of
dull red rubber and the only purpose i could imagine for it was as a butt-plug
of elephantine proportions. It was as wide as my biceps at one end and thinned
only to about the width of my wrist at the other. Sticking out of the rubber,
and spaced evenly around the sides like points on a compass, were four white,
plastic cylinders. There was a tiny hole at the "thin" end, and a wide one at
the thicker. A shoelace had been threaded through the holes.        
        
   "Pretty, isn't it, michael?"        
        
   "It's beautiful, Mistress," i lied, mortified at the thought that the
monstrous thing would be invading my body.        
        
   "I'm glad you like it. I designed it myself. My... friends and I have a
little social club and we get together infrequently to.. you know... talk, show
off our latest acquisitions and play a few party games.        
        
   "One of those games was to see who could design the best homemade Teeth of
Kali, and I won. Do you know what Teeth of Kali are, michael?"        
        
   "No, Mistress." But it sounded bad.        
        
   "Why, you're looking at one now, silly! May I demonstrate?"        
        
   i was shaking badly. "Please do, Mistress. Please show me your wonderful
device."        
        
   She moved, not to my ass, but to my cock. She took the bit of string at the
wide end and tied it sharply, just underneath the glans. Then She pulled at the
other end of the lace, sliding the whole rubber contraption over me until my
whole cock was inside and the chubby end was pressing against my pubic bone.
She finished by tying a bow at the thin end to keep it fast against my body.
Inside, it was a tight, but not unpleasant, fit for my still flaccid,
stretched-out member. The interior was actually a rectangular tunnel made of
hard, smooth plastic; probably the same kind as the mysterious cylinders. As my
penis hardened a little, i could feel dozens of tiny holes in the surface of
the plastic, and my flesh began to slowly expand into them.        
        
   Mistress held up something that looked a little like a plastic flashlight,
only with a thinner handle. The face looked more like a shower faucet, lined
with holes, and there was a white dot in the center. Mistress pressed down on
the dot. The face slid backwards with the creak of rusty springs. Through the
holes appeared dozens of little plastic spikes.        
        
    "oh god," i groaned. The first tiny pinpricks began to ripple across the
surface of my trapped manhood.        
        
   "You see," She chirped like an infomercial, "the string holds it in place
until you're hard and then the spikes do all the rest."        
        
   i closed my eyes, moaning. my fear made me hard. my hardness brought me
pain. my pain made me afraid.        
        
   "Not bad for a dog toy, four meat tenderizers and an old shoelace, eh,
michael? And the best part is that the blood comes right out this hole in the
tip!"        
        
   That did it. i began to cry incoherently, thrashing in my bonds. She slapped
me across the face.        
        
   "I'm kidding! Calm down! Those spikes aren't nearly as sharp as you think
they are, michael, and you're not thick enough to drive them all the way in!"  
     
        
   She caught my chin and pointed my face directly at hers.        
        
   "Do you understand?"        
        
   i nodded, whimpering in a completely different way than before.        
        
   "All right, then. I was going to gag you; I know how much you get off on
that. But I think for both our sakes, I'd better leave your pretty mouth open
just in case you need your safeword. This," She thumped the rubber with Her
finger, "is only the beginning of our session tonight, do you understand,
michael?"        
        
   i nodded miserably.        
        
   "I need to hear you say it."        
        
   "i understand, Mistress."        
        
   "Understand what?"        
        
   "This... thing.."        
        
   "Teeth of Kali, michael."        
        
   "This... these Teeth of Kali are only the beginning."        
        
   "And do you want more?"        
        
   No. i nodded yes.        
        
   "Say it, michael."        
        
   "Please, Mistress. Please give me more!" Despite what She'd said, my prick
had swollen to fill the entire cavity; at least in width. The spikes sunk deep
into my most sensitive flesh. A sheen of sweat broke out across my
freshly-showered body.        
        
   "I thought you didn't like pain."        
        
   "i want to give you pleasure, Mistress!"        
        
   "How very noble of you."        
        
   "Please!" i practically screamed, "i NEED to give you pleasure!"        
        
   "All right, michael," She said very softly. "Thank you."