Mistress

"Isn't this an incredible place? I mean, look at all the people here. They're all hot." He turned and watched two women walk by, ogling them in the worst way, but in a way most guys seemed to think was somehow attractive or appealing to women. I sat my empty drink on the bar. "Excuse me," I said talking to the side of Steve's or Rob's or Leo's head. He had introduced himself but 10 seconds after he had said his name I couldn't remember it and never would.

Mistress Catja's session with 'analslave M' 23-03-2015 My head is pounding as I hear Mistress Catja's footsteps on the gallery. This horny bitch can't escape, there is no way out and I don't want any other way. 'So filthy slut here I am again. Have you cleaned your house for your Mistress?' 'Yes Mistress.' 'Indeed very cleaned up, have you done that all by yourself?' 'Someone does this for me Mistress.

Sat at the end of the bar, just staring into space, you've been nursing the same drink now for 30 minutes, not that I've been watching you. Oh how I would love to be able to read your mind, to know have you once thought of me, are you thinking of me right now? From my seat in the corner I can see most of the bar without being spotted. I've seen the way everyone looks at you as they walk in or head towards the bar.

Tanya nervously clutched her purse to her chest as she walked through the heavy door. She pulled off her sunglasses that had been in place hiding her face, despite the fact that it was overcast and dark outside. She eyed the reception area as she pulled the door shut behind herself. The building on the outside resembled an inner-city residential house that had clearly been renovated to support a business now.

She pulled the shiny, black thigh-high leather boot on over her leg and zipped it up. She had just purchased them that morning and as she looked at herself in the mirror she couldn’t help but admire how stunning she looked in them. Turning her body this way and that she assessed the image in front of her. The outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination. The tight black leather corset ran from her belly button to the bottom of her breasts, cupping and lifting them beautifully.

He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. 8:52pm. He'd made the phone call earlier on, she was late. It worried him when she was late, although he never knew why; she was never consistent with these sorts of things. It was raining heavily, enough to rattle against the glass in the windows. The door bell rang. "At last!" he thought to himself as he headed for the front door.

Cal continued to toil away at his chores zealously in the hopes of completing them early and earning some well deserved free time. No matter how many character flaws Lara and Jenna had to complain about Cal's behavior, no one could ever call him lazy or unmotivated. He was the kind of person who strove to achieve excellence in whatever he put his mind to. It just so happened that he was currently striving to suck and clean Lara's used panties and complete all his chores efficiently.

Lara's POV "This can't be..." Lara was muttering to herself as she and Jenna inspected Cal's chores. Cal was following close behind with his arms bound behind his back and his mouth stuffed and gagged by his very own mom. Lara had excitedly wrapped her leather belt around her hand and was looking forward to smacking Cal on his arse, the chores were a means to add to his infractions and prolong his suffering.

This part's pretty short. Haven't really been able to write for a while now. ----------------------------------------- The small sound crushed Cal's soul as the thought of being caged and chastised scared the crap out of him. "Nice. That's a good pet." "Mmmphhh." Cal squirmed and writhed glaring at Lara. "Okay, let me get this gag off before you start frothing at the mouth." Lara unwrapped the scarf and pulled out the wad of socks making Cal cough and wheeze.

Cal had by now figured out all of the potential pitfalls and deftly avoided them. He took care of all of his early morning work and cooked up a wonderful bacon and eggs with some pancakes and maple syrup. "Jeez, I could really get used to this new routine. It really is wonderful to have someone else cook for you and attend to you." Cal was pleased with his mother's compliments and served her some coffee as well.

I moved in to room 205. It was tough moving. I have never lived on my own, never lived in an apartment. From childhood to college, I stayed at my big family home in Illinois. Moving to New York was a big step. My apartment was not too large yet comfortable. The only friends that I made in a week were from work and all of them lived quite far away, so it was quite exciting when I saw the woman who lived across the hallway in apartment 204.

I would like to thank a special friend for her proof reading skills and for her advice generally which have made this story better than it would otherwise have been. WARNING: This story contains a scene of "golden showers," female on male consensual urination. If this is not for you then I would suggest that you proceed no further as I have no wish to offend anyone. It's the story of the visit, by an experienced older submissive, to a young dominatrix for the first time.

You walk into my room expecting to see me in a cute little skirt, and a little girl top, just the way you like me. What you get makes your mouth drop open. Standing here, in front of you, is a girl that you can barely recognize, a girl completely transformed by the couple of days she was ignored. This girl is the One that has awakened within me, while I was waiting for your call.

Disclaimer: These are real stories. Everything that happened here is, to the best of my knowledge, what actually happened. The experiences are several years old, but I captured them all to the best of my ability. ***** So, it's been a year since my last femdom experience. That last one with an older woman really killed it for me. I told her what I liked, and what I didn't. She did everything to me that I told her I didn't like.

I had decided he was finally going to do it. I was going to visit a dominatrix and have my fantasy of hardsports finally fulfilled. I had been researching it online and had found Mistress Jenny, who was supposed to be one of the cruelest pro dommes in the scene. It wouldn't be cheap, as I would need to travel to New York city for the session, a four-hour drive plus a hotel room.

The alarm went off but there was no point, Allie was already awake. She had been awake for an hour anticipating today. She slid her hand down under the sheets caressing her hard nipples. She caressed her round, full breasts thinking about the interview. She still couldn't believe she had landed this interview. Rachel was a not only a strong business owner in their area, but also predominant Dom in the BDSM world.

Chapter 2 "Beep, Beep," Allie's phone chirped. She knew who the text was from without even looking at it. It was Mistress. Allie and Rachel had been playing together on and off now for about a week. She looked up from the article she was writing about Rachel's place and grabbed her phone. 'Looking forward to tonight. 7:00. Come around to the back of the building and let yourself in. I'll leave further instructions on the table by the door.

"Don't move," she said. "That's it?" I said. "That's it. That's it, exactly. Don't move." "Right now?" Smiling. She returned my smile. "Right now. But get comfortable first." "Isn't that sort of counterproductive?" She tapped the tip of my nose. "Comedian. Don't worry, you'll get an experience." "But not a moving one, eh?" The smile stayed, but her words were serious: "Great experiences are always moving -- but not vice versa.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Angela wasn't sure what the woman had just said to her. She hadn't felt like herself all evening. These monthly drinks with the girls had become the only time she got out of the house. She'd been stuck in her own head all night though. She thought she was getting away with it until Sharon insisted she join her for a cigarette. Angela knew she was on the patches, she wouldn't stop talking about the patches.

I own your ass...came Her words, echoing off the interior walls of my head. They seemed to bounce through my head, whirring around; the images of Her standing over me as I submitted myself to Her. I knew that I had never loved anyone like I did now. She almost commanded it. The very thought of Her made me want to do nothing but please Her. You are Mine and I will use you as I see fit!

Professor Ballard took another sip of Chardonnay as she continued to survey the crowd. These faculty receptions were so predictable. The usual suspects were all present and accounted for. She nodded at her fellow faculty members politely. There was the stodgy department chair. God, was he actually wearing a tweed jacket? What a dolt. Over there was the cluster of teaching assistants and new instructors, always anxious to impress. All smiles and handshakes.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm addicted to your comments and feedback, good and bad. More. Please. *** ***** Professor Ballard allowed the lithe, young blond to lead her by the hand down the dim hallway. When they reached her office, she fished her key out of her clutch and silently opened the door. She motioned for Kendra to go in first. Ballard followed her and locked the door behind her, then turned to face her student.

"Not good enough, you dumb cow. Try again," said the young mistress sternly. Kathleen Ballard took a moment to compose herself. She was an English professor. She should be able to string together a few coherent sentences and come up with a compelling and convincing argument that would satisfy her new mistress. Professor Ballard was a 44 year-old divorcee who had discovered lesbianism relatively late in life. She liked her girls young.

Tiffany Stein knew she was born for the pageant stage, but never had her chance when she was younger. Both her parents were academics and thought pageants were silly, forcing Tiffany to focus on her studies; as an only child they were able to devote a lot of attention to her. They had passed while she was in her early twenties, and she thought it would be best to honor them by fulfilling their wishes.

10/24/05 As I write this, my left leg is cuffed to the chair. I haven't been to the bathroom in thirteen hours, and Miss Stephanie has insisted that I am not working hard enough on journaling her attentions! The misery is palpable, I must confess. She spent most of last night teasing my poor cock to near distraction..."Now that you keep web journals, dear Goblin, the world should know what a bragging little worm you are, don't you think?

She stroked her cock with one hand and watched him, watched the combination of fear and desire stutter across his face. He was a good looking man, married, mid-thirties, a little paunchy but nice definition through his chest and shoulders. His hair was close-cropped and brown. His eyes were brown, too. He had a delicious ass, and a serviceable, if not impressive penis. She wondered, as she always did, what brought him to her feet.

So, just a little about me. The last few years have been pretty much without sex from my spouse. I love her dearly, but she doesn't have the sex drive I have, nor the interest in my many fetishes that I desire. I have been good about taking care of my desires while she is away for work or many times while she sleeps in another room, I'm at least able to take things in my own hands.