The Inspection Zone

I walk in the back door and you’re standing there with an envelope.  You smile, hand me the envelope and walk away with a touch of your finger to my lips.

I put my things down and open the envelope.

Welcome home.

Welcome to the inspection and performance game.  Today you’ll be inspected by me several times for things you’re instructed to do. In addition, there will be several “performances” and, perhaps, an unusual service activity.

Rules:

  • First. No speaking unless asked a question – infractions will be handed out and dealt with today for any broken rules.
  • No eye contact, unless directed.
  • After each item, you must be inspected, will then receive a new directive.  If you fail an item for any reason, infractions will be handed out.
  • You have one opportunity for questions.  You may ring the bell and I will return and answer up to 2 questions.   But you must do it now.  Before starting.

To begin…

Undress.  Put on your cuffs.  Ring the bell and kneel immediately after ringing the bell.  I will bring your collar.  Do not move until you have your collar in place and I have given you the next envelope.  

I get undressed, cuffs on and ring the bell and immediately kneel, rushing to get down before you return.

And I wait.

I can feel the floor pushing back at my knees, my hands in position, my toes pushing back at the floor.  I’m looking down to avoid looking at you as directed.  I can hear you from time to time.  I hear you rustling around in the kitchen.  Then you leave and all there is is quiet.  I have to wonder if you heard the bell, and for a split second I consider ringing it again, only to be followed by “are you an IDIOT?” screamed loudly in my head.  My knees are also screaming at me at this point.

I hear you come in and turn on the tv, sit down on the couch and giggle from time to time at the tv.  The episode of whatever was on passes and at last you get up and I hear and sense you in front of me.

Very good boy.” is all you say as you reach down, place my collar on my neck and hand me an envelope and walk away.  “Do not move before reading” is written on the outside.

Your next task is to do a little rope performance for me.  Use the rope just ahead of you on the counter and come stand before me, then tie up that cock of yours, figure 8’s around your balls and nicely around the shaft…

Not too tight that you have no circulation, not so loose that it’s meaningless.  Get it wrong, I make you do it over and infractions will be handed out.

Too tight, too loose – both earn the infractions.  Use your best judgement.  I will inspect and award your next task when you’re done.

I stand, slowly, letting my legs stretch as I get up.  I walk over get the bondage rope from the counter and come to find you in the other room, alternating between reading and tweeting.  I’m careful not to make eye contact.

I run the rope around me, doing as told, guessing at the pressure to be put on me.  I start with the figure 8’s wrapping snugly around and between my balls.  I get several rounds, then one around the base and wrapping around the base of my cock a bit.  It’s made much easier by the fact that it’s all made me hard as a rock and I’m dying for more attention.

I stop and check my work, concerned at the snugness, but no major color changes indicate that I at least don’t have it dangerously tight.  I face you, eyes, down, hands behind me, for inspection.

You inspect carefully, pulling on the ropes, pulling on me… and approve. I’m thankful for no infractions at this point.

You hand me another note.

Please bring me my dinner.  After I’ve brought everything for you, you hand me another  note as you start eating.

Your first real performance.  

Tonight for dinner is Edge TV.  You are to stand in front of me and edge 5 times.  But there is a catch.  You KNOW how much I adore leaking.  3 of the 5 must produce leaking.  You may not have more than 5 you may not have less than 5.  I will judge whether the leaking is sufficient for my tastes.  

I will also judge the 2 that are “lesser” edges – if they are not close enough, you’ll also receive 5 infractions for each that isn’t. 

For every one that you miss of the 3 it’s 5 infractions.  For every extra leaking edge, it’s 5 infractions. 

If you go too far to a ruined orgasm, It’s 25.  

Multipliers are in effect for all infractions.

This is an exercise of precision.

Start now.

In my head I’m madly planning how to get this done.  I know exactly what you like, and I know that getting there to that teetering point is very, very difficult, particularly in succession.  In my head, I figure it out to use the first 2 to get things rolling, then go from there.  But it’s dicey.  That means I need to be 3 for 3.  And standing.  Tied.  I feel the nervousness creep up on me as I think about the infractions.

I start and immediately realize that my cock is extremely sensitive with the rope around it – that the extra blood flow there has added a new layer of “SHIT!” to this game.  I start stroking for you and have to concentrate extremely hard at the shift in sensations – the rope, my balls, the performance aspect of what I’m doing for you.  Out of the corner of my eye I see you eating, just as if it were indeed Edge TV while you have your dinner.

I snap back mentally just as I feel my insides start that march toward orgasm.  I feel the electricity shooting up my spine, tickling my brain.  Thoughts of “hey, 25 isn’t so bad!” and “you can take it, just do it!” are running around, arguing with the task at hand.  An involuntary gutteral groan slips out as I work to get just there, just enough to please you, but I really don’t want more at this hyper-sensitive stage…

I stop as I start to twitch internally.  I’m bending over a bit to try to control.  I realize quickly that I’ve lost my control points too – standing has removed the things I usually try to shut down the orgasm, so I’m left grasping at straws.

That counts as 1, poor, sad abandoned orgasm.  Very good.  Continue.  Now.

It never occurred to me that you’d also be controlling the tempo.

I start again immediately – the urgency has not subsided at all and I’m fighting with myself to not immediately fall over the edge.  I decide on a change of plans – will do that last “lesser” edge at the end… just as I feel myself rush toward that edge and the point of no return.  I feel myself twitching, trying desperately to find some sort of additional contact, anything, to push over the edge and instead just a few drop ride my PA ring.  I see your body shift toward me, and I look away, careful to avoid eye contact.

Very nice.  And that’s one with leaking. mmmmm… my favorite.”  You lean forward and use your finger to remove your reward.  Just your touch almost sends me over as I’m still fighting to pull back from the edge…

Continue.  Now.

I continue, trying to slow things a bit to manage some sort of control.  You’re having none of that.  “I forgot to mention that if you slow down from your established pace, there are infractions for that as well…Consider this your warning.”  I immediately pick up the pace and am met almost instantly with the wall of orgasm urgency.

I feel about as much “locked and loaded” internally as I have ever been before.  I feel my body ready to go, wanting to go.  Now.  From deep in my groin I feel it building, the urgency, the completely overwhelming need to cum, and cum now.  My brain is in lizard mode, demanding it.  I find my grip tightening and speed increasing and just as it come around the corner to inevitability, my brain yells “STOP!!!” and I do.  Barely.

I must be standing there like a magician that just introduced his rabbit from the hat.  Hands back like “don’t touch this!” and presenting myself.  Bent over, squeezing every internal muscle I have to avoid a ruined orgasm.  I’ve mis-timed this one.  I’m fighting for every second of non-release.  Trying to pull it back.  I can feel it rising in my cock, even as I avoid all touch or movement.  Somehow it starts to subside and I feel myself dripping out just a few bits, down over the ring again as you reach to gather it up.

NO! Please don’t touch – I won’t be able to…” I start to say…

EXCUSE ME?” is all you say as you grab my cock and milk it.  “I’ll take whatever the hell I want thank you very much.  5 infractions for speaking.

It’s like you’re reaching down inside me, just torturing me to force me over the edge.  I feel myself contracting, fighting back with all I have when you suddenly let go and all the blood rushes back through my cock again, bringing with it overwhelming sensations and additional drops of reward.  “Oh, so nice.  But it doesn’t count.  You have to do it.  NOW.

I’m almost crying because of the sensory overload, and with no break at all, it takes only seconds to get to the next edge – I time it a little light, but still am able to get you what you wanted.  In less than 3 seconds (I know this because I literally hear you count out loud “one-thousand-one, one-thousand-two, one-thousand-three”), you tell me to start again.

Now the rubber hits the road.  I have to somehow NOT leak, and yet go far enough to give you the edge you require.  I sense you sitting forward in your seat, like watching the final inning at a ball game.

I start, and you remind me, “remember, not too slow, and this one can’t leak!

Yes ma’am,” somehow makes its way out of my mouth.

Now, normally I would expect to be acknowledged, but you had specific instructions.  That’s 5 infractions.  I didn’t ask you any questions.  No speaking unless asked a question.  Period,” echos through my brain.

My head is already spinning, screwing with my logical brain, trying to establish some sort of what’s enough, what’s too much – but of course at this point I’m so sensitive, and my cave-man brain is so much in charge that it’s extremely hard to manage.  I feel the supercharged energy roaring through me and in a flash I’m on the verge of a full-on orgasm.  The realization hits me at about the same instant that I sense things inside me looking to explode.

I stop, gasping for air.  The one-after-another approach was much more difficult than I had thought and the standing and performance and… it all came home to roost in this one final bit.

I’m fighting with everything I have to keep things from just flat erupting and it’s like I can feel the muscles in my cock seize and contract and pull back and … they’re working to betray me.

Somehow, I think I’ve pulled it off.  I stand upright again and grin a bit to myself, but just as I stand up, I feel it – a rebellious dribble.

And there it is,” followed by a giggle and milking of me is indication that I went a step too far.  “Poor guy.  Just couldn’t quite hold on.  That’ll be 5. “

You hand me a note.  On the outside is written “Infractions.”  I notice in your other hand, that there is another note, “No Infractions.

Inside, the note is simple.

Bring me my crop and roll the dice. The number you roll is your multiplier.  The number of infractions you have, times that multiplier determines the minimum number of smacks.

Your favorite.   The crop.

I roll the dice.  I get a merciful 2.  This means that I am in for 30 at a minimum.  The standing rule is that the actual number at or above the minimum is determined by her in real time.

When I return with the crop, I kneel and present it to her.  She takes it, has me stand and slowly removes the rope from me.  She tells me she’s impressed with how far I got, but disappointed that I broke two rules and didn’t perform as needed on the final edging.

I bend slowly over the back of the couch as I wait for the first swish

“Just too bad you didn’t get the ‘no infractions’ envelope this time…” is all I hear before that first swish…

13 thoughts on “The Inspection Zone

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