Today's fantasy about Donna was about being whipped by her and her husband. It started with me requesting a whipping from Donna and hubby. They found it quite amusing and were very willing to comply with my request because they love to administer pain to my genitals or anywhere I request it. I particularly like when I am whipped because it reminds me of when I was young and I would like to have one of those thin cord electrical wires whipped across my back. I remember how it would sting and hurt and I could never get enough.

Donna pulled me by the ear while hubby got the whips ready. My wrists were placed in leather shackles that were connected to a wooden plank that ran across my chest from   for the length of my arms and more. It's probaby the cruelest invention that Donna's hubby has made to increase my pain because while shackled to this type of whipping device my arms are stretched out their entire length but only as high as my chest. The entire device is made to lift me up off the ground whenever Donna sees fit to add an extra burden to my already pain wracked body. Because of the way I am shackled to the device no matter how much pain I am in I can never rest. There is only my one stationary position. I can't even roll from front to back because the device is up against a wall and there's no way to turn in the device.

After placing me in the shackles Donna then begin to raise my body up. I was left on my tip-toes, After getting me into the position she desired the whips were handed out and the whipping began. The first stroke stung and I couldn't help but groan from the pain. I try as much as I can to not let them know how much the whipping hurts because Donna and hubby like only to hear me groan and scream even more so the intensity and time between strokes of their whips just increases.

They take turns whipping me with thin single lashed whips - Donna's favorite. Each stoke stings and burns into my skin and there's nothing I can do but beg for mercy which is not forthcoming. First Donna, then hubby, then Donna, then hubby. One stroke after another with very little time to rest in between. I am racked with pain that is excruciating and burning through my back. I feel like I'm on fire.

Every once in a while they stop just to ask if I"m enjoying myself. Of course I am. Anything less and the pain would increase to the point of intolerable. I am writhing in the device trying to get out of the way of each stroke of their whips. There's no way I can escape. Each stroke hits it's mark. 

Eventualy I am freed from the device but not after promising to think ahead when tending to their needs and agreeing that if a mistake is made in tending to either Master or Mistress that I will be punished in any way they deem acceptable.

I can't wait until my next mistake. Donna I've worshipped you for so many years now. I only wish my fantasy was reality. I only want to serve you and be your slave boy. Treat me with disdain. Humiliate me. Punish me. I don't care. I am yours and will kiss your feet at your command.

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Sometimes I ask myself that question over and over. I live what's called a vanilla life but yet I"m not vanilla. I've had fetishes and desires for as long as I can remember. I can't say when it started but I do remember my fetish for feet started at a very early age.

I must've been ten years old or  younger. I really don't remember. I do remember visiting my cousins who were a little younger than me by about 1 year. They were two sisters, Marie and Cathy. The latter being the older of the two. I would talk them into taking off their shoes and stepping on my face as I lay in the grass. I can remember the smell of Cathy's feet like it was yesterday. Sick isn't it? But yet, it's still my favorite foot odor even after all these years. I don't know what drove me to do what I did. Every time I visited I'd talk my cousins into letting me smell their feet. I'd always lay on the floor as they stood over me and rubbed their feet in my face. Ahhh, those were the days. 

One day as my mother was talking to her sister I remember walking into my aunt's bedroom. Same cousins as before so I just happened to be over their house visiting on this particular day. When I walked into her bedroom I saw a pair of sling-back high-heels on the floor. I remember how sexy they looked and I can still recall wanting to hold my aunt's shoes to my face and take in her shoe smell. That was never to be. I walked out of the room because I was worried I'd get caught shoe sniffing and when I went back into the room the shoes were gone. What a time to be neat.

Well those were my early years. I spent them with my cousin's feet in my face. How nice. Next were my pubescent years. I can remember lying in bed reading a newspaper and as I turned the page I saw the photo of a model wearing sling-back high heels. For some reason I started to touch myself and I couldn't control it. Before I knew it I had done something I wasn't expecting. I grew up quickly that day. I started to look at more and more models in newspapers and I would just look at their shoes. I was so turned on by high heels - especially sling back heels.

I started dating soon after. Well, not really dating. My friends and I would hang out in groups with groups of girls. The typical pre dating scene. I was sort of hanging with this girl Annette and she was kind of cute. We were doing fine until she asked if I liked her new sandals. I don't know what it is but when it's women that I like I can't see them as an object of my fetish. I was immediately turned off by her queston and decided that I wouldn't see her anymore. 

It was somewhere between intermediate school and high school when my fetish became more of a fire in my belly. It was a rainy night and I was visiting my friend who lived in a nearby apartment building. I noticed that there were shoes left in the hall because the shoes had gotten wet. I decided to look closer and found that on different floors women's shoes were left outside doors. I didn't know who owned the shoes but I decided I needed to stick my nose inside of them and get a good whiff of foot odor. I did this on different occassions and I enjoyed them all. This went on for a long time but ended when I met my first true love.

I forgot about my foot fetish for as long as we were dating (which was from the ages of 15-18) but it did start to come back near the end. I remember one afternoon making love to my girlfriend and as I enjoyed her body I kissed her up and down and worked my way to her feet. It was the first time I smelled her feet and I really, really liked the smell. I was turned on but Fran was not. She pulled away and never again was I to smell her feet. It was Fran though that led me to want to be dominated and abused by a woman. The way it worked was subtle. Near the end of our relationship I began to have urges to be her slave. We spoke about it very  briefly but I couldn't pull the trigger and got nowhere. It was one year later while we were in college that it happened. That I became a full-blown submissive.

Fran had broken up with me and I was hurt real bad. It was the 60's and drugs were everywhere. In my agony over Fran breaking up with me I took some LSD and the experience opened up my submissiveness completely. I began to confuse my love for Fran with being punished and humiliated by Fran. During my trip I had the most explosive sexual experince in my life and never looked back. I became a total slave to Fran during that trip except that Fran never would know about it.

I left school shortly thereafter and found my first job. The urges to be submissive were boiling over. I'd look for women that seemed to signal they were dominants and ask them out. I failed utterly. None of them were really dominants. I would follow women with pretty shoes that would show a glimpse of their feet and try to get as close as I could. I did everything but I could never satisfy myself. Even after marriage I could not be satisfied. I began to see professional dominatrixes in the hope that it would calm me down. 

Nothing really worked. After all, it's a sexual thing. I would go to a dominatrix about once a week and ask her to either whip me or smack my balls and then as I lay on the ground or in the bed I would ask her to rub her sweaty feet in my face. They were always amazed that I could ejaculate while smelling their feet. After a while Iwanted to taste their feet and I would ask them to let me lick the soles of their feet or suck on their toes. The stinkier the better. This went on for years. Finally I calmed down as I got older.

Then along came Donna. My wife's sister-in-law. I remember one day my brother-in-law remarking how Donna has his brother's balls in his pocket. I was immediately turned on by the thought of Donna controlling and dominating me. I'd photoshop dominatrix photos placing her head in the photos. I'd fantasize her dominating me and tormenting me. I'd fantasize about massaging her feet. It wouldn't end.

It's been ten years now. I've extended my desire for donna's dominance to include her husband. I fantasize being their slave boy and toyed with day after day. This blog will be about my fantasies. Some of them will be quite erotic and others will be unreal or undoable but it is a fantasy.

You will read stories of sensual foot massages, stories of dog-like submissiveness, stories of punishment and torture at their hands for even the slightest discretion.