Arthur is a frustrated male sub, who's wife Emma has no interest in playing his silly slave games. When he finally talks her into visiting a ranch that caters to dominant females and their slave husbands, he thinks he's found the perfect solution to play out his fantasies. But life at 'The Ranch' is far from what he expects. As soon as they arrive, a stern warder, Hilda, zaps him with a cattle prod and locks his genitals in a chastity belt, pocketing the key. Emma soon learns that Arthur has been emailing the ranch director Jenett, pretending to be her. His tales of Emma's wicked punishments have turned her into a Femdom hero, and she'll need a crash course from Arthur to maintain the deception and her credibility as a Female Dom. Angered by his subterfuge, she cages him for the night and sleeps alone.
The next day, the couple tours the pony barn where males are stabled for life, the dungeon rooms, which contain every piece of torture equipment known to man, and the maid training facility called 'Distinguished Domestics' where unwilling males are forced into a life of service as domestics. A slave's life at 'The Ranch' is a far cry from Arthur's sexy fantasies. But while he's ready to leave, Emma has warmed up the unusual lifestyle--in particular, making love to the good-looking 'escort slave' Greg while Arthur cringes in his locked cage.
Emma falls in love with her new 'boyfriend', while sending Arthur to be trained as a Distinguished Domestic, serving a number of formidable females. However, both must fend off the suspicious Hilda, who rightly suspects that Emma is a novice in the Femdom world. Arthur's life will never be the same, but just who will finally own this hapless sub remains unclear until the story's intriguing conclusion.
The graphic action in this novel includes whipping, bondage, piercing, CBT, torture, chastity, denial, female worship, ponyboy and slave training, oral service, strap-on anal, straight sex and, of course, the infamous Q-Tip punishment.
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February 10, 2010
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Excerpt from The Q-Tip Punishment by Orlando
At dusk she turned into a long drive that ended at a ten foot high stone fence topped with razor-wire that stretched off in both directions as far as she could see. Parking the car in the lot, along with twenty others, she opened the back door, picked up her bag, grasped the leash and led her husband on all fours to the solid door in the otherwise unbroken wall. Her knock was immediately answered by a woman in her forties who looked like a prison warden. She had a severe face with her hair in a bun. She was solidly built but not fat and was dressed in a blue blouse and blue skirt with calf-length black boots. Around her waist was a belt that contained a whip, handcuffs, a cattle prod and a stun gun.
"Emma Pearson?" the woman asked.
"Yes, I'm Emma," replied Emma.
"I'm Hilda," she said, "and this is your slave I see, what do you call it?"
Emma was at a loss for words, flushing with embarrassment. This was supposed to be a game. She hadn't thought about how to act, or names and her asshole husband, lost in his own fantasy, hadn't bothered to brief her on things like this. It made her angry but she pushed it aside.
"Um, uh, I...I just call him slave," she responded.
"We have a lot of those here," laughed Hilda, "how about we call the little worm 'faggot' for the time you are here. We don't have a slave using the name 'faggot' right now."
"That's fine," said Emma.
Taking the leash from Emma, Hilda dragged Arthur inside, slammed and locked the door and then pulled him into a room that was furnished with some cabinets and a very low metal table.
"Up on the table, 'faggot'," Hilda ordered.
Arthur was in heaven. His dream was coming true. Here he was, naked, on his hands and knees, collared, leashed and being ordered around by a very stern looking, no-nonsense, demanding woman. His dick was distended to epic proportions and his feelings were threatening to overwhelm his ability to think rationally. This was what it was all about!
Hilda looked at him carefully and then shook her head sadly. She turned to Emma with a strange look on her face and a questioning look in her eyes.
"You don't keep his cock locked up?" she asked perplexedly.
"Um, no," Emma replied haltingly.
"How ever do you control him?" asked Hilda forcefully.
"He uh, he...he obeys or...or else," stammered Emma while harboring further angry thoughts about how the asshole should have foreseen this also.
"I think it's a good thing you came here," purred Hilda, "as we are going to be a big help to you. We don't allow any swinging dicks here except on the few fortunate slaves who serve as escorts and then only when they are actually needed for service."
Hilda moved to one of the cabinets and retrieved several items that she placed on the table in front of Arthur. To his horror he could see that one of them was a very secure looking chastity belt and the other looked like a shock collar for a small dog. His mind couldn't quite grasp what the purpose of the shock collar could be, but the chastity belt struck fear and panic into his very core. The whole point of this game was to get his rocks off later when he was alone with his wife, which wouldn't be possible unless she had a key to the infernal device.
Hilda was amused and a bit turned on by the play of raw emotions in Arthur's face. It wasn't often that she had the pleasure of dealing with what appeared to be a rank novice slave who had no idea of the magnitude of suffering that he was going to endure at the Ranch. Her panties were sopping wet, her face was flushed and she found her breathing was quite shallow. This was going to be fun!
Without preamble she removed the cattle prod from her belt, placed it on his nut sack and pulled the trigger. It had its usual result of doubling the poor wretch into a fetal position and eliciting a piercing scream from his lips. Her body was almost orgasmic at this sight. It was way too good to waste so she crammed her hand into her panties and blasted off to heaven. Emma was speechless. Her husband was writhing in agony and this virtual stranger was almost comatose from the force of her self-induced orgasm because of it.
After Hilda recovered a little, she picked up the chastity belt and crammed it on Arthur's now seriously deflated penis, followed by the shock collar. She locked both in place with sturdy looking locks and stepped back to survey her handiwork.
"Doesn't that just get your juices flowing every time?" she asked Emma with a huge smile on her face.
Emma, still at a loss for words, just nodded her head and watched her husband who was now obviously shaking in terror.
"Serves him right," she thought, "for not filling me in better on what was expected here. Hilda must think I'm an inexperienced boob."
"Back up on all fours!" shouted Hilda.
Returning to all fours Arthur couldn't stop trembling. He hadn't expected such an unfeeling display of brutality. The woman was obviously a total sadist who got intense sexual pleasure from her acts of cruelty. He needed to let Emma know that this woman wasn't normal.
"I could see you wondering about that dog shock collar," Hilda laughed. "It's to insure that worms like you can't leave here when you find out just how severe, cruel, brutal, and ruthless we are and just how miserable your life here will be. There is an invisible fence completely around this property that will fry your jewels off if you are stupid enough to try to leave."
Arthur listened in disbelief. There was an invisible fence?
"One more thing before we meet the others for cocktails," continued Hilda as she handed a sheet of paper to Emma, "you need to check off any limits he has on this form so we don't force him into anything that he hasn't agreed to as a condition of slavery."
Emma picked up the form which had all kinds of perverse acts on it. She didn't know what to do. The stupid shit hadn't warned her about limits. She had no idea about limits. He hadn't said anything.
Handing the form back she said blithely, "Oh, he has no limits."
Arthur was horrified. What could she be thinking of? Hadn't she looked at the form? There were surely things on there that no one in their right mind would agree to. Of course he had limits. He started to turn to say something when Hilda, sensing that he was about to speak and also realizing the colossal mistake that had just been made by Emma, calmly put the cattle prod to his nuts again and gave him another jolt. Any thought of speaking vanished as his world dissolved and he collapsed again writhing in pain.
"A word to the wise, 'faggot'," she hissed. "That is what will happen every time if you try to talk without permission. Slaves speak only when spoken to."
Arthur's brain shut down. This sexual diversion wasn't going like it had the countless times he had enacted it in his mind, gently stroking himself to orgasm after orgasm. This was wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. A trickle of fear, real fear crept down his psyche and he started wondering, for the first time, if this gathering of women might be a bit more than he bargained for. He reflected that perhaps he had stumbled on something more than a group of people who liked to spice up their sex life with some different strokes. He was smart enough to drag himself back to all fours, remaining very still for fear of the prod, waiting for whatever came next.
"No limits," Hilda gushed. "I have to say that he is either very brave or very stupid as we have never gotten a slave who hasn't had some limits. I mean look at some of the things on that list. They are evil."
By now Emma realized that she had made a massive blunder, but what could she do? She would just look stupid trying to backtrack and besides she had no idea which ones might be limits for him and the dull-witted idiot hadn't said anything before hand so, fuck it! No Limits!
"Um," she said haltingly, "yes that's correct. He has no limits."
Helga regarded her appraisingly. Emma was supposed to be an experienced Mistress, yet something didn't ring true. She seemed to be completely unsure of how to properly treat a slave and to not have the worm in a chastity belt was...she filed her thoughts away for later.
Arthur comforted himself with the belief that he was under Emma's control and when they were alone tonight he could explain it to her so she could make sure that nothing crazy happened.
"Well then," declared Hilda, "let's join the others for a drink before dinner."
It was only a short walk from the gatehouse to the main house. The two women were walking at a leisurely pace and Arthur was crawling behind them on all fours. Arthur found that, even though the ladies were moving slowly, it was difficult moving on all fours. It was hard keeping up and it was painful on his knees. He finally found that by getting up on his feet and hands he could make better time but the unnatural position was very tiring and he was glad to see that the house wasn't far. From the outside it looked like it might be at least ten thousand square feet. It was a sprawling structure with a wrap-around veranda and a second story with balconies at each of the sliders.
Hilda escorted them to the second floor and down the hall to a large bedroom containing a king-sized bed, an en-suite bathroom and walk-in closet. It also conspicuously held a large solid looking dog cage, a padded bench and a free standing closet which had one door ajar revealing a rack of different whips and restraints and drawers that Arthur's churning mind imputed probably contained other fiendish instruments of torture.
"The rooms are pretty much the same and this one is yours," Hilda commented. "It's time for drinks with the rest of the residents so why don't you just drop your bag and we'll go on down to the terrace. I'll have one of the slaves put your things away."
Hilda pushed a call button by the door and almost immediately a male, completely undressed except for the cage and collar on his privates, appeared, dropping to his knees with his head on the floor.
"Oh," Hilda said, "anytime you need anything, anything at all, including a different tongue if 'faggot' isn't doing it for you, just push that button. Gives a whole new meaning to the term 'room service', doesn't it?"
Looking at the naked man kneeling at the door Hilda said, "Put Miss Emma's clothing away after we leave and then return to your post."
Turning to Emma with a satisfied look on her face she continued, "There are at least five house slaves on duty twenty-four hours a day for each ten rooms that are occupied. That means you can expect instant service, now let's head on down to the terrace and meet the others."
In the back of the house was a great room with chairs, couches, and wide screen TV. It opened onto a sweeping terrace with a crystal clear pool on one side and chairs, tables, umbrellas and a barbeque grill and bar on the other. The terrace was occupied by about fifteen women of different ages and walks of life. Close to each in various postures were fifteen nude men. Some were on their hands and knees serving as stools or tables, some were lying at the feet of women who were sitting in chairs and one was begging as a dog might. Behind the bar was a naked man serving drinks, and roaming about were five more nude men passing trays of hors d'oeuvres and trays laden with glasses of champagne.
Emma was a tad discomfited by the display of so much naked male flesh and the subservient attitudes but kept her face from showing it. Arthur, on the other hand, was excited. This was just what he had imagined. This was the stuff that really good orgasms came out of. If only he could play with himself. Not possible with the wicked appliance that encased his privates at present but, Emma, during the drive had asked him to wait until tonight for her. Hopefully later she would let him out.
Then a ghastly thought occurred to him, "That bitch Hilda hadn't given his wife a key. Where was it?"