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CBT: Between Pleasure and Pain

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

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"Oh, darling... You look so much better this way... What's your safe word?"

The zebra shuddered in bondage, stretched out between two metal poles locked down into the floor so that he stood spread-eagled, his pink tongue flicking out to brush against his lips. It was hard to talk, having been there for so long already, his cock out and hard, drooping under its own weight. He'd been edged and edged again for so long that he hardly felt that he was even seeing straight, but that was the least of it. He couldn't even remember his own name in the thick of it, heat rushing through, throb after through.

His mistress of the night, a friend and casual partner, was a tall, elegant llama with gleaming eyes and a shiny black coat, dressed primly in a grey and black corset that off-set the colour of her fur. Everything about Mistress May radiated power, though she was Sally outside their scenes.

"Mmm..."

The zebra licked his lips, looking helplessly down between his spread hooves, balls clasped in a ball stretcher. It was heavy, weighty, pulling his nuts down, like a round clamp that went around the narrow neck of his sack, forcing his nuts to stretch down into the base of his sack. It left them round and as if they were swollen, though he knew from experience that they could be stretched even further than that, fatter and appearing even bigger.

Maybe Mistress May would do that to him. Maybe she wouldn't. It really wasn't his decision either way and he loved that.

Groaning, the zebra trembled before her, but he knew he didn't want to do anything against Mistress May. He just wanted the llama to use him, to abuse him, to give him every last bit of the CBT play that he craved so desperately.

Or perhaps not. If she didn't, that was not his call. And her ignoring his nuts was a form of torture all by itself.

"Look at these nuts..." She said, shaking her head, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Such a waste, such a waste... All on a weak little colt like you. So small. So useless. You don't deserve balls like this, little colt."

The zebra moaned. Oh, that hit the right spots for him, he was her colt, her weak-willed colt. Anything that his mistress wanted to do to him she could, no questions asked.

Still he tensed as she walked around him, picking up a crop and rested the flat, triangular-shaped leather flap at the tip under his nuts, hefting them up slightly. There was a weight to them, though everything was made all the more sensitive with the ball stretcher in place. His cock was soft but out, fear for what she was going to do to him keeping it soft and drooping.

Mistress May wouldn't have it retracting though, oh no. That would have spoiled what she had in mind for him. The llama took a cock ring, sliding it over his cock and rotating the device to tighten it, preventing the zebra colt from retracting. That would keep it out where she could make use of it, though it was too tight to allow him to cum, which she made sure of.

He groaned, eyes half-closed, relishing in it all, even if he worried for what she would do. That was the best part of it for him, knowing that he couldn't do anything, that he had to relinquish control to her. And he trusted her too, even when she brought out the clamps.

Small and metal, they could deliver so much pain, especially with where they were going, though his cock throbbed and drooled, the head slickening further with a string of pre-cum that he hadn't even known he'd still had left in him. He panted heavily, though took every one of the clamps that she placed up his cock, the bite of pain, though it numbed quickly to pressure. Still, the zebra knew all too intimately how the blood would rush back to those numb spots when the clamps were removed in a flash of biting, sharp pain even worse than the clamps being put on.

But he was good, yes, submitting to his torture like the CBT trained slut he was, yes, sinking deeper in submission with every clamp. With a line of six up his dark cock, a little plumper with blood then, his balls were exposed, his need swimming, unparalleled by anything else. Though he always thought that when he spent a session with the llama mistress.

She strutted around him, not sparing words on him: they would only have been wasted. Although he could not cum, she could deliver all the pain unto him that she wanted, the whip cracking up against his balls from the underside, striking the fleshy, swollen orbs with a smack as they jiggled. He couldn't help himself, braying and jumping from hoof to hoof, though it was hard enough for the zebra to stay upright as it was. She didn't bother to even correct him, the tiniest of smirks denoting her pleasure.

Oh, but that was only the start of it, hid body torn between arousal and pain, wanting to soften, wanting to retract, yet denied every instinct that his body craved. Yet that was what CBT was all about for the zebra, losing his sense of self, becoming nothing more than a wanton slut, heaving and panting and sweating as the whip increased in its intensity, striking his nuts repeatedly.

Sometimes, the pain didn't register as much. Sometimes, it made him scream. But it was all that he needed, licking his lips, dragging in what air he could into his lungs, wanting it all, craving so much more. If he had been free to orgasm he would have right then and there and kissed her hooves for the pleasure - but that was never his choice. It was her choice and denial was part of his CBT that time, something that he would not be permitted to enjoy.

"It's not your place to enjoy, not the bliss of orgasm, of release...pain slut."

He moaned. He knew, yes, he knew, oh, how he knew...

Hanging in his bonds, struggling to even stay up on his hooves, the zebra knew that his night of CBT with Mistress May, undoubtedly, was far from over.

The torture from the hands of a mistress, after all, was only done when she _said_it was done.

Exactly as he wanted it.