March 23, 2011


Posted in stories tagged at 4:29 am by littlesubmissions

The note said, “Prepare your ass…” A bright yellow scrap of paper with curling, careful letters filling it, centered on the power button to the computer monitor, hanging there, the bottom curled up slightly. A warning? A reminder? A promise? All that and more?

His head got woolen and fuzzy as he played out scenarios, wondering what she meant. How should he prepare his ass? What about the rest of him?

Should he strap himself into the humbler, the a heavy switch that would cut and raise welts balanced on his back, waiting? A box of salt close at hand to turn the fiery lines of pain into scorching stripes of fresh agony? Was that prepared. He pulled his pants down, and felt his cock twitch as he slid the toy drawer open and looked inside.

Did she want a well-lubed ass, ready to take a plug or strap-on? Was that “prepared?” A vibrating plug shoved in his ass that she could control the tempo of his tongue with? An inflatable plug she could punish him with, quick pumps and a growing nausea in his gut telling him to try harder, to put the clothespins on his balls faster, to lick her boots faster or slower?

Usually she told him not to help, to just concentrate on obeying, and the unfamiliar territory was exciting, and frightening. The image of disappointment flashing across her face gnawed at him as he tried to figure out what she meant. What should he prepare for? How should he prepare for it? Was the whole scenario just a mind fuck, to make him sweat and worry, let him slip into a head space for something she was bringing home?

Was the colon considered part of the ass? Did he even have time to go to the store to buy an enema kit?

His briefs and shirt slid off, and he stood on the end of his socks to pull them off one at a time. Naked, he still wasn’t sure what to do. She should be home soon. The toys sat in front of him in neat rows, too many possibilities to consider.

He played past scenes out in his head, trying to find some clue to her intentions. His cock got harder as he remembered the sensation of her hands tearing at his skin, crushing his body into itself, dragging and throwing him around as he whimpered and snarled. The internal toys were used in the bathroom, it was easier cleanup than putting plastic down in the living room. They went on the back of the toilet, a neat row of geometric shapes and a bottle of lube designed to turn him into a plaything.

The humbler and two paddles went with him into the living room, the light one she liked to warm up with on one side, the heavy one for when the pain was a warm of thud of torturous pleasure on the other. A sudden thought, and he opened the drawer of her craft desk, a snip of the scissors and a length of red ribbon was in his hand. Three small bells, their tinny chimes rattling as he worked the knots hanging off the end. He wrapped the other end around his balls, circling them, pulling the skin obscenely tight and letting the balls hang below him.

Head down on the floor, the humbler tightened so he couldn’t stand, the bells swaying with each twitch or shift of his weight, he breathed hard and waited for her to come home.

His eyes closed as he heard the key in the door, her steps come in and then a pause.

“Is this your subtle way of saying you’d like to play?”

He twisted his head, saw her standing there with bags and a the line above her nose that appeared whenever he did something incomprehensible. “Your note said…” He trailed off, his breath pooling on the floor and washing back over his face.

“Yeah, for volcano tofu and thai curry and oh my god you didn’t read the back!” Her hand flew over her mouth as she half-stifled a laugh, the package hitting her chest as she turned away, gasping and breathing for air, trying not to laugh. Finally she gave up and just laughed, happy peals of mirth. “Oh my. You didn’t read the back.” She started laughing again as he scootched around to keep her in view.

“Who writes on the back of a post-it?”

She shook her head and leaned against the wall, gasping. “Well, who tries to debate with a ribbon and bells tied to their balls?”

He tried to glower, but ended up grinning back at her, and then laughing along. She shoved herself off the wall, and he reached back for the bolts to the humbler.

She shook her head and grinned, “Leave it. Come.” She walked past him, flopped down on the floor in front of the couch, and started to spread out containers on the coffee table. “It seems a shame to waste the effort, so just stay like you are and I’ll feed you.”

He leaned against her, feeling her muscles move under her skin. “You should probably ignore what’s in the bathroom too then, just FYI.”

She picked up a piece of food in the chopsticks, slid it past his lips, and grinned. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I mean, I could have written absolutely anything on the back of that note, and you wouldn’t have any idea, would you?”

He closed his eyes and breathed hard as he chewed. Swallowed hard. “That’s right ma’am,” he murmured, suddenly glad he didn’t read the backs of notes.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.


  1. Mike said,

    Again and again, lovely, fresh.
    More please sir !
    And thank you.

    • littlesubmissions said,

      Thank you too. I’m writing as I have time, it’s just in precious short supply right now.

  2. Tilly said,

    I just recently discovered your blog and cannot get enough! You write with such creativity! My poor boy is a little terrified that I’ll start incorporating some of your ideas πŸ˜‰ I’m glad there’s a long backlog of posts for me to go through or I’d never be able to patiently awate the next post.

    • littlesubmissions said,

      Thank you very much, happy reading. πŸ™‚

  3. Femsup said,

    I love the possibilities he has to force upon himself.A full participant in his own pain and downfall.

    • littlesubmissions said,

      It’s more fun that way. πŸ˜‰

  4. Just saw this one. Adorable and hot. Oh, and what a sight to come home to! Rowr. πŸ˜€

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