THE MISADVENTURES OF A SLAVE

 

Erotica P. Johnson

 

© Copyright Erotica P. Johnson, 2019

 

The right of Erotica P. Johnson to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988.

 

All rights reserved.

 

Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

 

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

 

This electronic book published by

Fetish World Books

www.fiction4adults.com

 

 

Chapter 1 - Introduction

 

'Ring the bell and she will open the door,' that is what she told me, but which door? Shit I should have listened more carefully. She said that the door was green. What do I do if a woman answers the door and it isn't her? Bluff it Adam, you always were good at bluffing. 'Well here goes nothing,' I thought as I looked at the four doors before me.

The instructions were simple enough and explicit enough, it was just my stupid excitement at meeting a Dominatrix for the first time that had clouded my memory.

I had no idea as to what to expect, I mean what did they do, just use a cane on your arse tied to a trestle, not my idea of fun, so why was I here shaking in trepidation? Very simple, the excitement. I am divorced after a sexually boring marriage. She just lay back and waited for me, boring, so I was going from one extreme to another. Looking for the excitement I had missed out on. Even if intercourse was not part of the scene, it should be sexually stimulating.

Stupidly I had asked for a week with her, but she had said no, and emphatically, a first visit is a time for trials and tests to get to know the client, so two hours just to dip my toes in the water was what she had suggested.

"But I write erotic books, and want to find out what I write about. Are you sure two hours will give me the experience I need, to feel the full effects?" I had asked her.

"You write dirty books, do you? In two hours you will feel the full effects, and leave with a very sore arse if you challenge me again. You are paying for my time and experience, I am the dominatrix, I dominate, and you do as told," she said forcefully.

"Yes, I accept that, so two o'clock on Monday at this address. I will make arrangements to meet my friends for the rest of the week, once I am back in the UK. See you then," I said, taken aback at her tone.

"That's a good boy, and it is Mistress, as in 'Yes, Mistress I accept that,' try it," she demanded.

"Yes, erm, Mistress, I accept that," I said.

"Good, remember it," she said.

Little did I realise at the time that she was already dominating me, and now I shook as I pressed the bell.

"Yes," the electronic voice said.

"Erm, Adam to see," I began she cut me off.

"Enter, the door is open," the voice told me.

I pushed on the door and tentatively entered.

"Were you born in a barn, close the door, and then come upstairs," she demanded.

I turned and closed the door and made my way up the stairs, as I climbed onto the landing there she was in her black, shiny PVC outfit, her legs slightly apart, and her hands on her hips, and a scowl on her face.

"Hum, not very good is it, we agreed two o'clock, not five past, is this what you expected, to be put in your place?

Not the loving wife, but an ogre. Is humiliation part of the scene, and that did not take a week, did it? Would you like a coffee whilst we chat? I need to find out what interests you, I mean I am open to a lot of suggestions, but I only do what interests me. The list is not endless, but nearly. How high is your pain threshold?" she asked me.

"Well, erm, yes to the coffee, please, and not high to the pain, low, very low," I replied.

"Then may I suggest that you remember to whom you are speaking, 'Yes to the coffee, please, Mistress,' I did tell you, perhaps six strokes of the cane will engage the brain. Have you ever been given the cane?" she asked.

"Erm, well, erm no, erm Mistress," I said trying to be correct.

"Erm, well erm,' what is up with you, there is no question; it is Mistress, or pain, and a lot of pain. The instruction is very simple I am the Mistress and you are the slave, and subordinate to me so you always, I shall repeat always, use my title or feel my cane. Now is that simple enough?" she asked me.

"Yes, erm, sorry, sorry, yes Mistress," I said.

"A lot of work is needed, I can see. Kneel there submissively, get used to the idea that I dominate," she told me pointing to a spot where I knelt down.

"That is just another aspect of being a dominatrix. My we are doing well, quarter of an hour and you have experienced two aspects. What about cross dressing, no don't answer, I see you as a sissy maid, so you will be one. I will make the first coffee, but after that you will make mine and serve it to me, humbly," she said now smiling at me and stroking my cheek gently, sexily even, and I smiled back. This was nice and a side to her I had as yet not seen.

I knelt there fearful of moving, yet enjoying the experience. It was weird, fear and pleasure, all rolled into one.

"There, I made it, so you drink it. Why? Because I made it, what I put in it is irrelevant. Sour milk may be, but you will drink it. Some clients desire to drink my personal Chardonnay, I may have made it with that just for you, as a treat," she told me.

"W-what is you erm, personal Chardonnay, erm, Mistress?" I asked timidly.

"You don't know, well perhaps, if you are a good little boy, I may allow you to taste it, once you know what it is? For now sit here next to me and drink your coffee. Mistress makes an excellent cup of coffee, doesn't she?" she asked me.

"Erm, well erm, I don't usually take sugar, but it is nice erm, Mistress," I said sitting beside her on the settee.

"You are not into pain you said, and that is fine, what about bondage, being tied up unable to escape?" she asked.

"I have yet to try it. I suppose when kidnapped, then that is what would happen, and that was part of my scenario, which was to be kidnapped Mistress. Is it popular?" I asked.

"Yes very, so you have no plans, a bit silly really. What if your friends are out, then what will you do?" she asked.

"I will see parts of England I have yet to see. I am very relaxed about it. I booked into the local hotel for one night, and then see what happens. Have you ever seen the Cheddar Gorge Mistress, or been to the top of Blackpool Tower, and then there is the Lake District, all the places I have never been to, have you?" I asked smiling at her.

"No, I must admit I have not been to all those places, put your coffee down for a moment, please?" she asked me.

I put my coffee down and she smiled at me and seemed to eye me up and down as if measuring me, assessing me.

"Hum, OK, yes I think I can make something of you, I do definitely see you as a female slave. You are not effeminate, but have nice bone structure, a wig, make-up and a slutty dress, or maids dress and that will be you. How good are you at cleaning?" she asked.

"I dust and Hoover, I am not that particular, but my place is not dirty, erm, Mistress" I replied.

"Don't let your coffee go cold. We will have a problem then, I am not OCD but very particular, it must shine. I want to see my face in my boots, and that takes a lot of work, work you will be doing. Something wrong?" she asked.

"N-No, yes, OK, my arms don't seem to be working I-I can't reach down for my coffee," I told her slightly anxious.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Y-yes," I said.

"It does work quickly; I didn't put sugar in your coffee, just a muscle relaxant, you see I have a story I wish to tell, and it occurred to me that you being a writer could write it for me. I have been quoted like a thousand pounds almost, one penny per word, not much, but when we are talking about a hundred thousand words, it is. You wanted a week under my control, well; you may just have it.

It will take about an hour for the drug to wear off, by then I will have you shackled and dressed as I want. Slave, I am going to kidnap you, are you excited, thrilled by the prospect of being my slave for a week, as you requested, but not quite. You will be held here and chained to the computer and I expect you to work, fail and I will punish you. You will dress as I decide and complete extra tasks like cleaning my dungeon for me, or my boots to a brilliant shine.

Being a Dominatrix is not just using the cane on males, everything I use must be clean and hygienic. The leather needs oiling and cleaning, the rubber needs washing and dusting with talcum powder, the clothes need washing after use, the ropes need to be rolled up neat and tidy, and the floors scrubbed down. Slave you are going to be busy, now is this what you wanted?" she asked me.

I was about to say no, then thought again, was it? In my wildest dreams it occurred to me that it was. A week doing as told yet looked after, no worries, no complications, just do as told and to write her story intrigued me, and it took a moment to decide.

"Not really, yet the concept excites me, so I will agree. It is what I had asked for, yet more so, and that does worry me, but as they say, 'in for a penny in for a pound,' so I agree," I said smiling at her.

"Excellent, being a bitch is part of my role, but tempered with kindness. Had you not agreed then I would have booted you out, but now that I have your agreement on tape, I can do whatever I wish to you, work hard, or fear me. I am and always have been, dominant, I like control, to take control and be, in control. I will respect your pain levels, but that does not mean that I will not push them, I will, so do not push me; it can be painful, to very painful, if I am annoyed.

You look smart, but I did ask you to wear old clothes, did you not listen to me; that is bad, and you will learn that not to listen is costly in pain," she said smiling at me.

"Yes, erm, Mistress, I put clothes on I well, I don't like and I was going to throw them away, or give them," I told her.

She smiled at me took hold of my ankles and dragged me off the settee onto the floor then sat on my chest and took hold of my shirt and ripped it off me. She yanked my shoes and socks off and then undid the belt and ripped my trousers off and under pants and put them through a shredder.

"Now I will put your bag in my safe, which is not in this room, so you leave naked, or as I dress you, or you will complete your task, and then I will return your clothes, to you. I am a bitch, aren't I?" she asked and laughed.

She rolled me over and put shackles on my wrists and ankles and then rolled me back and sat on my chest.

"There now I have you, well almost, you will be doing as told and therefore do not need to speak, my instructions will be explicit, so to get you used to the idea I will give you a treat," she told me.

She stood up and rubbed her groin for a few moments.

"Hum, nice, there now the juices are flowing, and my panties are Damp as my juices flow into them," she said.

Whether it was true or not I don't know, nor whether it would be a treat, as I wondered what the treat was to be.

She put her hands up her skirt and removed her panties and put them by my mouth, "Open," she commanded smiling at me, I didn't.

She moved, I didn't see where she moved her hand to, hidden by her leaning over me, but I felt my nipple being crushed and opened my mouth to cry out, but she pushed her panties in, and then put tape over the top, as she smiled at me.

"Like I said you do as told, if not, it hurts, which took away some of the treat I just gave you. I mean for a slave to actually taste me that is a rare treat, it may be second hand, but even so, a treat. Now what can we do until the drug wears off?" she asked sitting back on the settee, "There is no point in asking you questions, so I think I will select your clothes, now don't go away. No I will not leave you here, come on the floor is slippery enough for me to drag you," she told me.

She got hold of my shoulders and began to drag me along back down the landing to a room on the left and pulled me inside, and lay me down. What a room, I looked around agog at it, whips, canes and other things to cause pain hung on the wall, various pieces of equipment with straps to bind the victim to them stood on the floor. On the wall by the door was a cross in the shape of an, 'X,' again with straps to bind the victim, what for, I had no idea, their arse would be against the wall so she couldn't use the cane on them, could she?

Before I had worked out how she could use it I was being dragged again I had heard the click of a lock and the slight squeak of a hinge, but never realised that it was a cage she had opened. It was about two feet tall, four feet long and three feet wide. Now I am five feet ten and not that small, but she pushed and shoved me inside, bending me as she did so. It was not comfortable, but not painful, and then she closed and locked the cage door, and put the key down her cleavage, and smiled at me.

"I do know where people bend, and bent you appropriately, when the drug wears off you can make yourself more comfortable, shackled and in my cage you are going no-where. I will now put your bag away safely after closing the door and locking it, and switching the light off, you won't need light to see where you are going will you? You are going no-where. Slave Adam you are now my prisoner and slave, get used to it," she told me and stood up, she left me locked in the cage and in darkness in the room.

I tried to move, but the drug had as yet not worn off so I lay there unable to look around the room, yet in my mind's eye I could still see it and shook my head. What had I let myself in for? She seemed nice and friendly, but had this nasty streak, a vindictive streak, yet tempered with kindness, as she had said. She seemed to have empathy, but was demanding, thoughtful, but controlling, at every turn there was a contradiction. Yet I liked her for some odd reason, and that was why I had agreed, because I liked her, yet feared her, again a contradiction.

It wasn't long before the acrid taste of her pervaded my taste buds from her damp panties, nasty, but nice; every single thing was a contradiction. How can a worn pair of panties with love juices soaked into them, be nice? It was, it was her control, an intimate means of control, so nice, but nasty at the same time. Like taking a child into a sweet shop and allowing them to see all the delicious sweet things on offer, and telling them that they could not have any. Was that what she was telling me her cunt was available, but not to me or anyone for that matter, except by her choice, don't ask, the answer is no.

It was an offer of her clit and cunt, but she was not going to give me that this was a substitute, a rich gesture, yet there was no getting away from the fact that they were dirty panties she had stuffed in my mouth. It was enough to blow your mind, all these contradictions. Slowly I got the use of my limbs back and moved into a more comfortable position which I changed until I decided that there wasn't one, yet again to say I was uncomfortable would be a lie, it just wasn't as comfortable as I would like, there it was, the contradiction.

Who can say that being shackled locked in a cage too small and locked in a room in darkness was pleasant, it wasn't, but my dick did react, for some odd reason, I was finding it sexually stimulating, and I enjoyed that feeling, making it not unpleasant.

She seemed to be away for ages, but how long it was I had no idea, and she seemed to enjoy ripping my clothes off, I can't say I didn't, it was exciting. As I lay there I reflected on her actions, she had taken control the moment I rang the bloody bell with her demanding ways, yet even they were tinged with affection, it obviously wasn't kindness, and affection was too strong a word, but caring perhaps is a better word, yet that doesn't make sense, until that is you begin to accept the contradiction that was everywhere.

I heard the key being put in the lock and saw the door opening and then she put the light on and smiled at me from the door.

"I see you decided not to leave, very good," she said and laughed.

I looked at her and smiled was it that she had returned or at her joke? I don't know they both fit very well, I admit I was glad to see her and the joke eased my tensions.

"Now, we have a slight problem, if I release you, then you could attack me, and escape and who will write my story. But locked in the cage you can't do any work and I need my dungeon, so you can't stay in there. I can inject you with the serum, but that would mean another spell when you are useless, problems, problems. Ha, if you believe that; you have another think coming. One your clothes are in my safe locked away and you do not know where it is, or what the combination is, so it would mean leaving naked, not to be advised. Two, I am a dominatrix and some of my clients like to have a rumble and tumble, yes we wrestle and they always lose. I have the means and skill to incapacitate them, don't believe me, try and escape, if you can make it to the front door, I will give you your clothes back; that is how confident, I am.

Seriously try and escape I won't hurt you well not much," she said and smiled.

I was up for the challenge, but I didn't want to leave, so what if I won?

She smiled at me, "OK here is the deal you try to escape and I give you for free the four hours you booked, if you can make it to the door, if I stop you, you will sign this contract, which allows me to kidnap you and use pain on you if you fail, it also allows me to dress you as I wish and feed you with decent food, but what I choose and drink. Now Adam what is it to be? You will nod that is affirmative if you wish to try to escape and shake if you do not want to try?" She asked smiling all the time.

It was now a challenge I could not refuse, and nodded.

"Excellent, Daisy lock the door," she said, "I am not about to give you the chance to escape before we begin. Once I tell Daisy to open the door then we begin," she told me and came over to me and released me.

The gag gone I missed it, and the taste, for some odd reason.

She walked away from me and the door, putting me between her and the door, making a dash for the door easier, for me.

I will now describe what happened, well I would if I knew, it happened so fast. I have no idea what she did, but as I made for the door, which was open I felt a hand, and then I was on my back on the floor and she was sat not on me, but on my face. Her clit was over my mouth, she did have panties on disappointingly. She just sat there and then she moved a fraction and I was suffocating and then I could breathe.

"That was too easy, come we will go again, you make to escape and I will chase after you. The object is to fight me, stop me from stopping you," she said and got off me.

"What is this, the best of three?" I asked her smiling.

"I have told you and reminded you so now it is pain, I expect you to use my title, this is not a request, it is a fact, failure is painful as you will now find out," she said, "No, you were pathetic, where was the fight I expected, you just lay there," she said.

"What, how, with you sat on my mouth?" I asked her.

"Don't let me sit on your mouth then," she said and smiled.

Her smile was getting to me, it said, 'You are a fool to believe me, I know what I am doing, and you are not good enough to be any sort of challenge.'

I looked at the door and then at her, I crouched down as if making to run and she just stood there her arms by her side at rest almost.

I decided not to run, to see what she would do, and began to walk. It was the look on her face, aghast that I was not trying, but it worked. I was much closer to the door than before, which was when she realised what was happening.

There was a flash as I looked up at the lights, and then landed this time face down. She rolled me over I tried to struggle and throw her off me, but she had her legs now clamped by my sides holding my arms and as she released her grip I moved, but she had already moved up my body and clamped her legs to my sides. Then she relaxed, and moved again just as quickly, and she was sat on my chest, and then it was one move and her clit covered my mouth as she sat back down covering my nose at the same time.

I struggled but in vain, as she was suffocating me then she moved and got off allowing me to gasp for air, but she had not finished and rolled me over and put hand cuffs on my wrists behind my back, as I gasped for air.

She was strong; she easily dragged me to what I can only describe as a vaulting horse and literally threw me over it. That was when the woman called Daisy entered, and helped her fasten the straps on the base around my ankles, and she took a strap from my wrists to a fixing point on the other side holding me down against the box.

"Now I have your undivided attention, there seems to be some kind of blockage which I need to clear. You are the slave, now you say it after me. 'Me slave," go on say it," she demanded so I did with difficulty laughing, "Good now you say, 'You, honourable Mistress,' say it," she demanded.

Well the opportunity was just too much to miss, "You, horrible Mistress,' sorry it was. Ouch, oh," I said as she gave me a stroke of the cane.

"I am so glad you enjoyed it, but the question is, was it worth it?" She said laughing, "I am very lucky I can administer the cane whilst I am laughing, can you laugh whilst suffering?" She asked me.

"L-look, erm, that hurt, Honourable Mistress," I said trying to escape her wrath.

"It was meant to, as will the rest of them. I will start with just six, but do not challenge me, the pain increases. I will also use half power and a cane that is not as painful as the rest of my canes, seeing as you are a novice, but it will hurt. What I want to know is will this be enough for you to remember that I am your Mistress and you use my title, at all times. You cannot use it too much, at the beginning of a sentence and at the end and part way through. To help you I am going to allow you to thank me for every stroke, you will say for it to count, 'Thank you Mistress,' after each stroke I will allow you time to absorb the pain, but once that time is up I deliver another stroke and that stroke does not count, so make sure you are quick in saying the thank you," she said and rested the cane on my arse.

She rested the cane and raised it then rested it again.

"Thank you Mistress," I said.

"Cleaver that was not a stroke, it was just a capable Mistress, taking aim," she said.

"Ouch, oh erm, thank you erm, Mistress," I said quickly.

"No, no, no, it is thank you Mistress, I will allow that stroke, but make sure you say it properly. There is no question or hesitation or consideration, as you say thank you Mistress, three little words. Wait until you have to count the strokes as well, and I add extra things, words like. 'Thank you Mistress it is very kind of you Mistress, to spend your energy training a stupid fool like me, Mistress,' can you remember all that when your buttocks are burning red and angry with pain? If not do not forget my title," she told me and rested the cane.

She used the double raise and rest again and then the stroke, and this time I thanked her, I was on a hiding to nothing if I failed again, I couldn't move and she held the cane over my sore arse.

After each stroke I thanked her, even though prior to thanking her I complained with an, "Ouch," or, "OH, hum,"

After the strokes had been administered, I lay on the box aching I admit, but not in as much pain as I had expected, it hurt, it had to, but she was perhaps gentle with me, being a virgin, which I appreciated.

"And that completes lesson one, I am your Mistress, you are my slave, and subordinate to me. In my presence you will in time learn to kneel when in my presence, and speak only when allowed to. Any designs on a debate or argument, you leave on the other side of the door, what I say is correct.

I drop a cup and it breaks, whose fault is it? Consider the answer carefully knowing that I am never wrong," she asked me.

"Obviously if you dropped it then it is your fault, unless it is by accident," I replied.

"You have a lot to learn, I am never to blame or wrong, if I throw the cup on the floor deliberately, you can expect six strokes of the cane for being so clumsy. Lesson two, I can do no wrong, I am never wrong, it is always the fault of the slave, attending me," she told me.

"That seems a bit unfair, and one sided," I said.

"Appearances can be deceptive, I appear to be an elegant, educated, sophisticated, and a loving female, but I am a cold hearted vixen, very well educated, and I can be sophisticated, and elegant, but when I chose to be.

We are going to have fun, as I take you down into my world where appearances are contradictory.

I can dine and converse with Lords and Ladies, and I can also turn these peachy lumps of flesh into black, blue and purple mounds, not in anger, but willingly, and by request," she told me.

"Whilst we are in here, what are all these pieces of equipment for?" I asked and felt another stroke of the cane, just one, but at that point I realised that she had used half power when she gave me the six.

"Argh, oh, shit, that hurt," I complained.

"As will everyone from now on when you fail," she said and gave me another stroke to which I cried out, do you know why I gave you those strokes?" she asked me.

"N-no, No, I-I don't." I said and felt another stroke, to which I complained.

"It is very simple really, I have told you and reminded you and I have also given you six strokes of the cane for the one simple mistake or failing. Now you have felt three more strokes all for that one simple failing. I am Mistress, you always use my title.

Once you enter my domain you use my title every time in every way, and as often as is humanly possible. Usually it is on your knees being much, much lower in the pecking order than I am. Fastened to the box it isn't possible so I will let you off for that, but not for forgetting to use my title. I will respect your limits, but not when it comes to my title, use it or feel my anger," she told me.

I had forgotten, this was mind blowing, the whole effect, the event, and experiences were blowing my mind, and she expected me to remember to use her title, by whose authority? Then again I was fastened to the box, my arse sticking up temptingly, and she held a vicious cane in her hand, so perhaps that was what gave her the authority?

She rested the cane on my arse, "You know what that is, don't you? I am now going to ask you some questions, and if you fail to use my title I will use the cane. One, do you know what is resting on your buttocks?" She asked me.

"Y-Yes, Mistress," I replied.

"Is sexual intercourse part of any session, with me?" She asked.

"N-No, Mistress," I replied.

"Has the message sunk in?" She asked.

"Yes, Mistress, it has," I said.

"Is this your first visit to a dominatrix?" She asked.

"Y-yes, Mistress," I said.

"Upon entering this room what was your emotion, awe, fear, apprehension, tell me?" She asked.

"Erm, a mixture really, interest in the pieces of equipment wondering what they were for, and how they were used, some fear, more apprehension, and an amount of excitement," I said, "Oh, ouch, ouch oh my ouch, " I said as she gave me another stroke.

"Hello, is there anybody home, where was my title?' she demanded.

"Oh, oh, erm, sorry M-Mistress, I-I forgot," I said.

"Do you think there is much chance of you forgetting again?" She asked me.

"N-no, that really hurt, erm, erm, Mistress," I managed to say in time.

"Only just, the cane was raised. Spare the rod and spoil the student I always say, I will not fail, I will impress on you via your buttocks the vitally important need you have, to use my title. Piss on my floor and you will lick it up, forget my title and I will beat you into submission. Has it now sunk in?" She asked me.

"Y-Yes, Mistress," I replied aching.

"Cross dressing, has various phases, it goes from the light hearted swap to a full deep exchange where the client comes to change form. They usually have their own clothes and make-up, and practice at home, these are the transvestites who are dedicated, and as for the likes of you I have some clothes, quite an extensive range actually, to accommodate the various sizes of males.

When on these premises you will be dressed as I decide, and seeing as this is for you, exploratory, I will dress you as female from time to time. Tell me why that is of interest to you?" She asked me.

"I don't know if it is, I do use it in my stories, I have even had the victim given tits for real as punishment, so perhaps as a means of punishing, to shame the male, I am interested, erm, Mistress," I said only just remembering to use her title.

"Interesting, when an answer is concise a yes, or no answer, you remember my title, but when some thought is required, you almost forgot it. I find that very interesting.

Around the room there are several pieces of equipment I do not use fully, the rack for instance. If I were to use it properly it would rip your arm out at the shoulder, so I pretend, it excites my clients when they know just how powerful it is, or can be, and I fasten them to it, a little stretch and that is it.

The iron maiden a lovely piece, capable of killing someone, but I removed the spikes harmless, but frightening, and once the client is inside, I can play with my victim to my heart's content.

Just to mention two pieces that are deadly, yet not, but what about you, have you angered me enough to be put in one of them and shown that, they are real?

So tell me Slave, what interests you from the pain angle, nipple clamps are nice, but nasty, the parachute is again nice, but nasty depending on the degree of discomfort or pain you like, so tell me what areas, are you interested in?" She asked me.

This would require thought, and I had to remember her title, my arse was now sore, and moving into very sore, so I had to think hard and remember.

"I have never, Mistress, thought about where I would like to feel pain it is, Mistress a contradiction. Who in their right mind is stupid enough to want to feel pain, most people run to avoid it, erm, Mistress?

I am here to learn, to experience what my victims feel, but not to the same degree, to assist me with my writing via the expression of their pain, having experienced it to some degree, erm, Mistress," I said.

"It would appear the message has sunk in, at long last. That was a very good reply, ignoring all the gibberish between the Mistresses you used. An answer to any question can be Mistress, said several times. I am not interested in your opinions or feelings, a cry of pain indicates that I am close to your threshold; a cry of mercy tells me that I have reached it, and then push you a little.

That is the real me, but I also do have compassion, and by now you must need the toilet so I am going to release you, when I do you will kneel before me and wait to be excused," she told me.

This was not what I expected, but then again I didn't know what to expect, so I suppose in some ways it exceeded my expectations and in others it brought to light elements I didn't like, yet enjoyed. She released me and I knelt before her, she smiled and told me to go to the toilet indicating where it was, and told me to join her in the lounge.

I entered and she looked at me, then stood up and led me into the kitchen.

"Coffee, Milk, sugar, kettle, cups, and water, everything you need to make the coffee two sugars for me, now make the coffee, slave," she instructed me.

"Just two sugars, perhaps three might sweeten you up, a bit?" I asked her smiling.

She came back to me smiling and then I felt it and heard the clang or ping of a pan as it collided with my sore buttocks.

"Sweeten you up a bit, Mistress," she said raising her eyes brows and a smile that lit her face up as I rubbed my aching buttocks.

"Oh, ah, Y-Yes, Mistress, sweeten you up a bit, Mistress," I said wanting to laugh and how she wasn't, I'll never know.

It is funny how a situation can be funny, even though your arse is shouting agony at you.

I made the coffees and put them on the tray she had put for me and served them, and then sat down next to her.