EXTRACT FOR
Starting Slave Training
(Miranda Birch)

Alisdair arrived precisely at 10 a.m. on the Saturday morning. Naturally, as this was the first man I was going to have `under control', I was both nervous and excited. Perhaps I was more nervous than Alisdair -- who would have gone through this sort of thing with other women before. The difference was that, previously, he would have put himself in the hands of a paid professional whereas this time he would be under the domination of an enthusiastic amateur. Enthusiastic but inexperienced. Not that he knew that I had never played the part of the dominatrix before. That would have spoilt it for both of us, I think. 



My plan was to take things slowly and carefully. `Playing it by ear' and learning as I went along. A lot of it, I had reckoned, would come quite naturally to me in view of my temperament. 



I had arranged my hair in a severe style, drawn back from my face and tied up behind. I wore a black blouse and skirt and black calf-length boots with high heels. 



Alisdair gave me a formal little bow as he came in. I did not acknowledge it but pointed straight to the sitting room. 



"In there," I said crisply. 



Alisdair gave another little bow and went straight in. That simple first order and his immediate obedience gave me quite a kick, I can assure you. As I have said, all my life I have had this desire to dominate people. Now I was actually doing it! 



Alisdair stood rigid and I seated myself. 



"You know you are here to work?" 



"Yes, Ma'am." 



"As my slave?" 



"Yes, Ma'am." 



Alisdair's voice was low and controlled and he had a humbly respectful look in his eyes. 



"You can expect to be punished if you do not satisfy me," I said. 



"I understand, Ma'am," replied Alisdair, inclining his head. 



Actually, at the time of that first visit, I could not say that I was very well equipped. I'd got some rope, some straps and even a cane, but little else. I had a hankering after more advanced equipment... handcuffs, chains, leg irons and so on, but didn't quite know how to set about getting them. I was soon to learn about this, however. 



"You will go upstairs, to the room at the end of the corridor," I said, "there you will remove your clothes and wait for me." 



"Yes, Ma'am," replied Alisdair. He really was most deferential. It was strange to have a man so polite. But nice. He gave a formal little bow and left the room. 



I lit a cigarette. There was no hurry. From what I had read about this game -- and what I could imagine! -- a masochistic man gets a special pleasure from being kept waiting. It builds up his tensions in a strangely satisfying way. 



I could feel the tension in myself, too. An exciting, pleasurable tension. Upstairs was a naked man. A submissive and obedient man; one whom I could order about as I wished. Whom I could make suffer. Yes -- it was very satisfying already! 



Though Alisdair was by no means bad looking, I did not think of him in a sexual way. There was no question of desiring him as such. My desire was for power. Perhaps, I thought, he would even repel me when in the nude. No matter. he was a slave. An object to be used at my whim. 



After about twenty minutes I went up to the bedroom. Deliberately I had left it barely furnished. No carpet. Just a chair, and table and a bed with only blankets on it. Here Alisdair would stay overnight -- if ever I decided to let him. 



He was standing rigidly at attention in the centre of the room. His body was lean and well-made. It did not repel. Nor did it attract me. That `neutral' attitude pleased me immediately. 



I went straight over to him and slapped his face. 



"Get on your knees when your Mistress enters the room," I snapped. 



He went straight down on his knees before me. I gripped him by the neck and slapped his face again. Several times. Using the palm of my hand and the back of it on opposite cheeks. I found it most enjoyable to do. 



"Haven't you been taught that?" I demanded. 



"Y-yes... Ma'am... I... I beg pardon... Ma'am..." gasped out Alisdair as his head jerked from side to side. 



I was slapping him quite hard because I was enjoying doing it and it began to hurt my hand. I gave him perhaps half a dozen slaps. 



"Don't forget in future, slave..." 



Slap! 



"No... Ma'am..." 



Slap!" 



"Or you'll really get punished! 



Slap! 



"Yes... Ma'am..." 



"You'll show me proper respect!" 



Slap! 



"Yes... Ma'am..." 



That's how it went... until I finally let up, leaving both his cheeks a bright red.