The Slutty Triathlon: Chastity, Fisting, Whipping

I like subs with their own goals

He came to me months ago, beginning his chastity journey — nine months now — with one clear goal: to become a fisting slut.

At first it was too early, but eventually I managed to peg him with the biggest toy of his life. Then I gave him exercises to practice, safety tricks, and take-home drills.

Summer passed. In September, he arrived determined: within ten minutes, he wanted to take my fist. I like punctuality, so on the tenth minute, he did. His body opened, and a dream came true.

He was high from the effort, stunned by his own success, he was now a certified anal slut. We hugged as though we had won a medal. He rested, we celebrated a little, then we had to consolidate the result. I made him prove it again; twenty-five times. His eyes glazed with joy, his body shaking with it.

He looked like an athlete who had just won gold.

Once again, he needed to rest, to recover, to let it all sink in.

Then he wanted to try my whips; his first time for this too. I didn’t push too hard; he had already gone far physically and emotionally. Bound at the wrists, he tried different whips, different rhythms, different places on his body. He loved it.

Now he stands as a Chastity Champion, a Fisting Champion, and soon, I know, a Whipping Champion too.

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