Charlie seeks some help!!

 Charlie stared at her phone screen, the numbers glowing in the dim light of her apartment. The taunts from her friends echoed in her mind, the casual, wine fuelled critiques from her four best friends in their little group that had stung far more than they should have. They had laughed it off as friendly teasing, but the seed of doubt had taken root. She was determined to prove them all wrong that her blow job technique could be improved, so she didn’t leave teeth marks on a cock or reach from the taste of cum. 

She dialled the number. 

The phone rang twice before a low, calm voice answered on the other end. "Mastery takes discipline and technique," the voice said, as if anticipating the call. "Be at the studio on 4th Street tomorrow at 7:00 PM sharp. Wear comfortable clothes." 

The line clicked dead. 

The next evening, Charlie found herself standing outside an unmarked, discreet door in a quiet district of the city. She hesitated for a moment, her heart hammering against her ribs, before turning the brass handle and stepping inside. 

The studio was minimalist and warm, smelling faintly of sandalwood and eucalyptus. Waiting by a sleek, professional consultation desk was Marcus, a tall man with an air of absolute composure. He looked up, assessing her with a clinical, non-judgmental gaze. 

"You're Charlie," he stated, not a question. "Your friends think you lack skill. Let's find out if that's a lack of talent or simply a lack of instruction." 

Charlie stepped across the threshold, the cool, damp air of the stone chamber carrying the faint scent of old oak and oiled leather. In the centre of the room stood a curious, imposing contraption part medieval artifact, part functional carpentry project. 

Constructed entirely from heavy four-by-two timber, the frame rose stark and utilitarian from the flagstones. At the very top sat a single wooden yoke, facing upward like a solitary collar waiting to be filled. Below it, the face of the structure featured two distinct round apertures cut cleanly into the wood, flanked by an intricate arrangement of leather straps, brass buckles, and securing loops. 

At each of the four corners, heavy-duty steel carabiners glinted under the dim overhead light, dangling short lengths of chain ready to anchor tension from above or below. It was a piece of equipment designed with absolute precision rigid, inescapable, and built entirely for restraint and control. 

Charlie approached slowly, running a hand along the smooth, treated grain of the wood, feeling the heavy metal snap of a carabiner click against his knuckles. The silence of the dungeon pressed in, broken only by the steady, heavy beat of her own pulse as she realized exactly what the device was meant to do.

Marcus watched as Charlie took in the sight of the wooden frame, his tone clinical and commanding. 

"Top off, and let's look at those nipples," Marcus instructed, his gaze steady. "Also, my slaves are always barefooted in this dungeon. The trackies can stay on. Your pussy is safe we are going to work on your blowjob technique." 

Charlie froze for a fraction of a second, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the cool air of the dungeon. The transition from silent contemplation to absolute authority was instantaneous. 

Slowly, Charlie reached up, undoing the buttons of her shirt and letting it slip from her shoulders, baring her chest to his unblinking scrutiny. Bending down, she unlaced her shoes and kicked them aside, her bare soles making contact with the cold stone floor. The trackpants remained, a loose barrier of comfort against the stark vulnerability of standing half-undressed beside the heavy timber structure. 

Marcus stepped closer, his expression unchanged, ready to begin the instruction. 

Marcus circled her slowly, his gaze heavy and clinical, examining her as his fingers reached out to tug, squeeze, and pull at her sensitive nipples. 

"Mmm, okay. They'll do," Marcus murmured. 

Without warning, he hooked two fingers and pushed them straight to the back of her throat, forcing a sharp, involuntary gag from her lips. He withdrew his hand just as quickly, watching her eyes water slightly. 

"Is that it, Charlie?" 

Charlie kept her gaze fixed on the cold stone floor, her voice dropping to a quiet whisper. "Yes, Master. That's why my friends joke... I can only take about two inches in my mouth." 

Marcus reached out, his fingers hooking beneath her chin to tilt her face upward, locking his gaze into her green eyes. "That's why you are here, slave. Now, we have a lot to do. Turn around with your wrists together." 

Charlie obeyed instantly, turning her back to him and pressing her wrists together. A thick leather strap wrapped swiftly around her skin, pulled tight, and buckled securely into place. 

"Right to the device," Marcus commanded, guiding her forward toward the heavy wooden frame. 

Marcus guided her around to the back of the heavy wooden contraption. 

"Kneel, slave," he commanded. 

Charlie dropped to her knees on the cold floor, positioning herself within the structure as he directed. Marcus maneuvered her head forward, guiding her neck into the wooden yoke before clicking and locking the rear panel securely into place, trapping her in a fixed posture. Moving quickly down, he wrapped a sturdy restraint around her ankles, binding them together. Her neck was now completely immovable, locked rigidly into the apparatus. 

Next came the chest alignment. Marcus reached around, positioning her forward so that her breasts lined up with the two round apertures cut into the front of the wood. Grabbing her by the flesh, he pulled and tugged each breast forward, easing them completely through the circular openings until they hung exposed on the other side of the timber frame. 

The final stage of the device's assembly involved the rear security straps. Marcus threaded the thick leather straps through the metal eyelets, crossing them firmly over Charlie’s bare back from side to side just under Charlie’s arm pits and above her butt, leaving her soft back totally exposed. With a sharp, powerful pull, he cinched them tight, pinning her torso flush against the smooth wood. 

Charlie strained against the restraints, but her body was entirely locked down. She was completely immobile, with only the limited freedom to shift her neck slightly forward and backward within the confining grip of the yoke. 

Marcus stepped back, taking a slow, appraising look at the constrained figure before him. 

"Perfect," he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "How do you feel, slave?" 

Charlie strained gently against the unyielding wood and tight leather; her chest pressed flush through the front of the frame and her bare ankles bound together. She raised her face as much as the wooden yoke allowed, her green eyes meeting his gaze. 

"Immobile, Master," she whispered, her voice tight with a mix of vulnerability and rising anticipation. "Completely trapped." 

"Good," Marcus replied, stepping closer with a training aid in his hand. "Now we begin the real lesson." 

Marcus stepped closer, holding up a heavy leather panel gag fitted with a firm, thick dildo protruding five inches from its centre. 

"Open your mouth, slave," Marcus ordered. 

Charlie parted her lips immediately, her breathing shallow as she waited. Marcus guided the cold, unyielding silicone forward, slowly sliding the five-inch shaft past her lips and deep into her mouth until her throat constricted around the base as she tried not to reach, “hold it” said Marcus “do not reach, relax your throat”. 

"Hold it there in your mouth with your teeth, slave," Marcus instructed, his voice low and uncompromising. "If it drops, you will receive ten lashes on your back from my flogger." 

Charlie locked her jaw slightly, her teeth gripping the shaft just enough to keep it secure against the pull of gravity and the tightness of the leather head straps, which Marcus now pulled back and buckled firmly around the base of her skull, locking the gag permanently in place. Saliva began to pool instantly, escaping the corners of her lips as her throat adjusted to the thick intrusion, every tiny movement a reminder of the strict discipline of the room. Marcus left her in the device alone in the dungeon with her thoughts about what was to happen today. 

Charlie’s jaw ached, her mouth stretched wide around the thick silicone shaft as the minutes ticked by in agonizing slowness. Every swallow was a deliberate, exhausting effort against the constant flow of saliva that had pooled thickly across the top of the wooden yoke, dripping steadily down the grain. 

When Marcus finally stepped back into the chamber, his expression was entirely clinical as he surveyed his work. He reached down and shoved the gag slightly deeper into her mouth. Charlie tensed, waiting for the familiar wave of nausea, but her throat didn't even twitch. 

"That's a good girl," Marcus murmured, giving her head a brief, approving pat before walking away. 

Moments later, the heavy sound of dragging chains echoed off the stone walls as Marcus returned, leading a line of five naked male slaves, all gagged and linked together by iron. He secured them to the wall rings before unhooking the first in line and leading him forward. The man wore only a tight chastity cage encasing his groin. 

Marcus positioned the slave directly in front of the wooden frame. Because Charlie was locked on her knees within the yoke, her restrained face rested at the exact height of the slave's waist. 

Panic flared, and Charlie let out a muffled sound of protest through the gag. 

WHOOSH! 

The leather flogger struck her exposed back with a sharp, stinging bite. 

"Shut up, slave, and still," Marcus commanded. 

Charlie froze instantly, tears pricking her green eyes as the burn of the lash faded into a dull, hot ache. Marcus methodically secured the male slave's limbs out to the sides, stretching him firmly in place so he was entirely immobile, standing right at her threshold. 

With a swift motion, Marcus unbuckled the straps at the back of Charlie’s head and yanked the panel gag free. A long, goopy string of saliva immediately spilled from her lips, pooling down her chin. Before she could catch her breath, Marcus reached down, unlocked the chastity cage, and freed the slave's hardening cock, giving it a light shake to rouse him. 

"Right, my little female slave," Marcus instructed, his voice cutting through the damp air. "You have got fifteen minutes to give this slave a blowjob, swallow, and lick him clean. As you can see, he cannot move." 

Marcus reached out, lifting the heavy shaft and sliding it straight past her lips. The initial stretch made her gasp, but the muscle memory of the previous instruction kicked in. 

"I will observe your technique and then from that we can improve," Marcus said, stepping back into the shadows of the room. "Okay, your fifteen minutes starts now." 

Charlie worked frantically, applying the cinematic movements she thought would work, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin while she tried to coax him forward. The slave whimpered in discomfort through his gag at the sharp nips and pressure, unable to pull away from the wooden restraint. 

Desperate to succeed, she adjusted her approach, smoothing her lips over her teeth and finding a steady, rhythmic bobbing motion. The whimpers of pain shifted into muffled, deep moans of pleasure as the friction built. A salty burst of pre-cum coated her tongue, and triumph flared in her chest. She was actually doing it. 

Suddenly, a loud buzzer broke the heavy air of the dungeon. 

Marcus stepped out from the shadows immediately, his expression hard. With a swift yank, he pulled the swollen shaft straight out of her mouth, leaving her gasping. 

"Fail! Fail! Fail!" Marcus announced sharply. 

Without hesitation, he unclipped the strained male slave from his position, hauled him back across the stone floor, and locked him back into the chain line alongside the others against the wall. 

Marcus turned back to face the wooden frame, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at her. 

"What was that, slave?" he scorned, his voice sharp in the enclosed room. 

"Ummm... a blowjob, Master," Charlie said, her voice trembling slightly as she remained locked in the frame. 

"A failure, you mean," Marcus corrected coldly. "You relied on guesswork and teeth instead of control, rhythm, and pacing. You overwhelmed him instead of mastering him." 

He stepped closer, reaching to the wall rack to retrieve a heavy leather flogger with multiple heavy tails. He unbuckled the rear straps holding her torso against the wood just enough to lean her slightly forward, exposing her bare, sensitive back fully to his reach. 

"Right. Punishment: ten lashes with the flogger on your back. Count, slave, and be thankful for every lash." 

WHOOSH! 

The leather tails cut through the air, landing with a sharp, stinging crack across her shoulders. 

"One, Master! Thank you, Master!" Charlie cried out, her breath hitching as the burn radiated across her skin. 

WHOOSH! 

The heavy leather tails bit deeply across her skin, sending a fresh wave of burning pain radiating across her back. 

"Two, Master! Thank you, Master!" Charlie gasped, her voice trembling against the unyielding wood of the frame. 

WHOOSH! 

The leather struck hard, the bite of the tails landing just below her shoulder blades and setting her skin on fire. Tears spilled over her eyelashes, tracing hot tracks down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut against the stinging pain.

"Three, Master! Thank you, Master!" she choked out, her voice cracking as her chest heaved against the wooden frame. 

WHOOSH! 

The final blow landed with a heavy smack, sending a searing shockwave across her already bruised and burning skin. 

Charlie hung limply in the wooden frame, her body trembling uncontrollably as heavy, silent sobs wracked her chest. Tears dripped continuously from her chin, mixing with the dampness on the wood below her. 

"Ten, Master..." she whimpered, her voice breaking entirely into a ragged sob as she waited in the quiet, oppressive air of the dungeon. 

Marcus stepped forward, gripping the heavy leather straps at her back and pulling them taut with a powerful yank. The wood pressed hard against her torso, pinning her completely immobile once again. He leaned in, his face inches from hers, holding her gaze with absolute, unyielding authority. 

"Shall we try again, slave?" he asked, his voice low and testing. 

Charlie swallowed hard, tears still wet on her cheeks, and gave a slow, obedient nod of her head. 

"Good," Marcus murmured. "This time, with a distraction." 

He turned away from the frame and walked over to a metal prep table, his fingers searching among the tools before lifting a pair of heavy metal nipple clamps joined together by a short, dangling chain. He squeezed the pinchers open one by one, bringing them back to where her sensitive, exposed breasts protruded through the circular holes in the wood. 

With deliberate slowness, he clamped the first weight onto her swollen nipple, letting the metal jaws bite down, followed immediately by the second. 

A sharp, blinding shock of pain ripped through her chest. Charlie threw her head back against the yoke and screamed, a raw, piercing sound echoing off the stone walls. Having never worn clamps before, the sheer intensity of the pinching, burning pressure was a completely overwhelming, foreign sensation that set her entire nervous system on fire. 

"That's good, my girl," Marcus said, watching the way her chest heaved under the new wave of sensation. 

He walked back across the room, untethering a fresh male slave from the wall line and dragging him forward. With practiced efficiency, Marcus secured the man’s limbs outward, locking him rigidly in place directly in front of the wooden frame. The slave's groin was once again positioned at the exact height of Charlie's restrained face. 

Marcus reached out, unbuckled the metal chastity cage, and freed the soft flesh, giving the shaft a firm stroke until it began to swell and grow against the cool air. 

"Slave," Marcus said, his voice echoing sharply in the chamber. "You have fifteen minutes to get this male slave to cum in your mouth and lick him clean. If you don't, you will get another ten lashes with the flogger. Understand?" 

Charlie swallowed hard through her raw throat, tears still clinging to her lashes, and nodded slowly. She parted her lips, holding her jaw steady, preparing to receive him. 

"Oh no," Marcus corrected instantly, stepping closer. "This time, stretch your tongue out to wake it up and get it into your mouth." 

Charlie extended her tongue as far as she could, pressing it against the base of the growing shaft as Marcus reached down, guided the thick head past her lips, and pressed the start button on his digital timer. 

"Go," Marcus commanded. 

This time she remembered how she nearly got the last slave to cum and started with that method straight away.

The male slave didn’t panic as before, no biting this time just long strokes as Charlie used her lips around the now massive cock in her mouth, the male slave started to groan through their gagged mouth and black hood. 

Slow strokes really got him going, then she stopped and nibbled his end trying to find different ways to make him cum. Charlie was getting desperate and her mind kept going as well because of the clamps on her nipples that kept unfocusing her from the task. 

She thought I have to focus on the cock, I have to focus on the cock, but she was struggling with the nipple pain. then all of a sudden she could taste the salty substance, yes she thought pre cum, I’ve done it. she looked at the body in front of her the male slave started to vibrate and then she felt the cum in her mouth, yes she had done it. but the alarm went off mid climax and master stepped in and pulled the slaves cock out of her mouth finishing his climax fast and ruined. 

FAIL! FAIL! FAIL!, Charlie started to sob as the male slave was unlocked and taken away. 

Marcus stood in the centre of the quiet chamber, the digital timer blinking in his hand. He looked down at Charlie, whose chest heaved under the relentless pressure of the metal clamps, her eyes wide and glassy with exhaustion.

"You were so close, slave," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a firm, deliberate tone 

Marcus then unlatched the rear panel of the frame just enough to ease the heavy pressure off her back, letting her catch her breath for a brief moment in the stillness of the room before the next phase of her discipline began.

"You were so close, slave," he said, stepping around behind the wooden structure. "Here we go again. Count them and be thankful, my little slave."

WHOOSH!

"One, Master! Thank you, Master!" Charlie sobbed out, the sharp sting of the leather tearing across skin that was already bruised and raw from the previous punishment.

WHOOSH!

"Two, Master! Thank you, Master!" 

Blow after blow fell, the heavy tails landing directly over the sensitive, inflamed welts on her back. Charlie wept uncontrollably, her entire body shaking in the wooden yoke as the relentless cycle continued until all ten lashes had been delivered, adding a fresh layer of deep, throbbing agony to her skin.

Once the flogging was complete, Marcus didn't pause. He walked over to the line of chained men, unclipped a third male slave, and dragged him forward, securing him tightly in front of the wooden frame just as before.

Charlie took a ragged breath, desperate to prove she had absorbed the lessons from her previous attempts and determined not to fail a third time.

Marcus stepped around to the front and reached out, unclipping the heavy metal clamps from her swollen nipples. The sudden release of pressure sent a violent shockwave of blood rushing back into the tissue, feeling precisely like a hundred hot pins stabbing deep into her flesh. Charlie let out a sharp, involuntary scream that echoed off the damp stone walls.

The chastity cage was quickly removed from the new male slave, freeing his thickening shaft. Charlie immediately extended her tongue, letting the growing tip rest directly upon it as Marcus instructed.

"Again, my slave—distraction is good," Marcus murmured.

Instead of returning to her chest, Marcus walked back to the prep table. He left the clamps behind and instead picked up two heavy, medical-grade pinwheels, each bristling with eight sharp, rotating metal teeth across their wheels.

"Ok, my princess. Start," Marcus commanded, pressing the digital timer.

Charlie immediately began moving her head, sliding her lips over the shaft and using long, steady strokes, determined to pace herself and avoid the mistakes of the past two attempts.

Meanwhile, Marcus moved quietly around to the back of the heavy wooden frame. He knelt down behind her, positioning himself near her bare, bound ankles. He held the two toothed pinwheels over her sensitive feet, bringing the sharp points down to rest against the arches of her soles.

With firm pressure, he began rolling the spinning pinwheels upward along her skin. The sixteen sharp metal teeth traced intricate, prickling paths across her soles, the intense, tickling agony of the spinning pins threatening to shatter her focus completely.

Charlie gasped around the cock in her mouth, her toes curling frantically inside the restraints as a wave of overwhelming sensation shot up her legs. Yet, despite the torment spinning across her feet and the lingering fire on her back, she forced her mind to lock onto a single goal: she was going to master this technique, keep the rhythm steady, and satisfy her Master before the timer ran out.

Marcus rolled the spinning pinwheels firmly up and down the arches of her soles, the sixteen sharp teeth creating a relentless, prickling torment that threatened to override every thought in her head. Charlie kept her jaws locked onto her task, refusing to let the distraction break her focus again.

Then, the familiar, salty tang of pre-cum hit the back of her throat.

She looked up at the hooded figure in front of her. The male slave’s body suddenly went rigid, beginning to vibrate with the intensity of his approaching climax. A thick, hot surge of cum shot straight down her throat. Moving with practiced speed and precision, Charlie swallowed hard and sucked the shaft clean just as the digital timer let out its sharp, piercing beep.

Marcus stopped the wheels instantly, standing up from behind her.

"That was amazing, slave. You have done well today," Marcus praised, his voice carrying genuine approval.

With swift movements, he unbuckled the straps of the wooden frame, unlocked the yoke around her neck, and freed her immobile limbs. Leaving the male slaves still chained and hooded, he gently led Charlie across the chamber to a heavy iron ring mounted on the stone wall, securing her wrists to it.

Charlie collapsed weakly to the cold floor, her exhausted body trembling. From her low vantage point, she watched as Marcus turned his attention back to the line of male slaves, administering twenty heavy lashes with the flogger on each of their backs to reward them for their participation before returning to her side.

Marcus reached down, grabbing her by her ponytail and hauling her upright, then unlocked her wrists. He guided her out of the main chamber and into the adjoining dressing room.

"Go," he said, releasing her hair. "I will send your stars to Daisy, and I know you will be back, my little Princess."

He stepped out and closed the heavy door behind him. Through the thick wood, the muffled sounds of the remaining male slaves receiving their continued discipline echoed into the room.

Charlie dressed carefully, wincing slightly as fabric met her raw, flogged back. With a deep breath and a quiet smile of satisfaction, she left the dungeon, walking out into the cool air knowing her training was complete.

A few days later, the air inside Daisy’s living room was thick with anticipation as the five friends gathered on the sofa for the long-awaited verdict.

"So, you actually went to see Marcus then?" Chloe asked, leaning forward with a curious smirk.

"I did," Charlie replied, adjusting her posture carefully against the cushions. "And he said he would send Daisy my stars. I'm a bit confused, though what even are stars?"

"That’s how he marks your score," Daisy explained with a knowing smile, reaching over to hand over a crisp, sealed envelope.

Charlie slid her finger under the flap and pulled out the small card tucked inside. She blinked down at it. 3 stars and a report card, Chloe asked, “what does it say, read it out, I remember my first one it said she has to try better”.

"Listen to this, girls," Charie announced, clearing her throat to read aloud.

Subject: Charlie (Designation: Slave)

Session: Comprehensive Oral Technique & Sensory Endurance Assessment

Award: 3 Stars

Performance Overview:

The subject demonstrated notable improvement in baseline discipline and endurance compared to initial baselines. Transitioning from cinematic guesswork to structured, rhythmic pacing yielded successful physical completion on the final trial. Pain tolerance under secondary sensory distraction (pedal pinwheels) showed admirable resilience, though initial hesitation during chest-clamping phases requires continued desensitization.

Areas for Improvement:

1.      Anticipatory Focus: The subject must maintain absolute cognitive focus on mechanical rhythm from the outset, eliminating psychological distraction caused by secondary stimulation.

2.      Threshold Management: Greater mental fortitude is required during the transition from preliminary pacing to climax facilitation to prevent premature timer interruption.

3.      Postural Discipline: Neck and upper torso stabilization within the yoke must remain rigid regardless of external sensory input.

Conclusion: Promising progression. Foundation established for advanced mastery.

— Marcus

Charlie folded the parchment back up. "Well, there you have it. Looks like Master Marcus has high hopes for his princess."

"Well done, Charlie, that is amazing!" Daisy cheered. "So, now that you’ve had the training, did your boyfriend actually enjoy his blowjob last night?"

Charlie froze, her eyes widening in surprise. "How do you know I gave him one?"

"Because when I went to Marcus, I practically leaped on mine right after," Chloe laughed. "Well? Did he like it?"

The room went completely quiet as all four friends stared at her, waiting.

A slow, triumphant smile spread across Charlie's face. "...He loved it," she whispered.

Instantly, the tension broke, and all the girls piled in together for a massive, celebratory group hug, laughing and cheering in victory.

Charlie pulled back, catching her breath as a sudden thought struck her. "Hang on, guys... can I ask who else is seeing Marcus for help?"

One by one, without a word, the other four girls reached up behind them and pulled off their tops. Across every one of their backs ran the unmistakable crimson welts of flogging—some dark and fresh from earlier in the week, others slowly fading into pale, healing tracks.

"You mean...?" Charlie breathed.

"Yes," Daisy said softly, letting her top settle back into place with a proud smile. "We are all his slaves."