Classified AD

The women I find most attractive invariably make me function as their submissive. That's the way it is, don't ask why. If you need word pictures, here they are; I'm naked and on my knees before them. I perform humiliating chores at their command, I suffer punishment at their hands, I lick and kiss their footwear (and their feet) and whatever else they want licked. I suck their high heels; I wear what they put on me; dog collars, shackles, chains, hoods, gags, harnesses. I'm regularly bound and beaten, made to eat and drink from a dish on the floor and I masturbate where and when I'm told, eating my cum at their command. Her employer had transferred the woman who had been my Mistress, 35-year-old Sandi, to another part of the country. I'd been without her special attentions for over six months and was getting anxious. The extraordinary yearning to serve and submit – beyond telephone training - was overpowering. In conversation, I begged

Mistress Sandi for release and for her permission to begin the search for a new Domina.

From the practical point of view, she said she had to agree but also said I must continue to report to her. I thanked her as best I could, hung up and began formulating my strategies for the attack (Yes, it most definitely is an "attack" mode. If you want something bad enough you've got to be prepared to go after it aggressively, regardless of your nature.) It occurred to me that with my large house, which included a vacant, private entrance, self-contained apartment, there might be an opportunity.

The pitch ‘It Pays To Advertise' registered. Now, how would I attract that special someone? The chances of getting a non-professional Domina to respond to a run of the mill classified ad were slim, so I put some thinking into what I wanted to say before buying a brief, to the point, ad. The next issue of our local underground paper included this copy:

Handsome Executive who travels has large midtown house to share with Dominant Female. Your own apt. No charge. Privacy. Must want to own/train a slave. Box 208.

Now, if you use a publication to advertise, don't expect instant gratification. Fact is, it took about two weeks before the mail brought four responses. The first letter was from 21-year-old Linda, a university student who wrote she'd had minor experience as a Dominant and wanted to take the opportunity I offered to explore her proclivity further. She said she had dominated a boyfriend by using his belt to whip him and had forced him to eat her. "It really wasn't very much," she said, "but it showed me what my life could be like." Her letter was first in the keeper pile.

The second was from 27-year-old Jane, a clerk who said she needed free accommodations and wanted a slave. She said she was aggressive with men, had read plenty about Female Domination, but never had the chance to actually go to the limits she wanted with the guys she'd dated. If she met me, she promised, she'd put into practice what only her imagination had allowed so far. Letter number two went onto the keeper side. The third was from someone who wanted to keep house. It became letter number one for the round file. And the last was from a community college student. Stacy said she was in her late 20s and had gone back to school to study business. She wrote that her ex-husband had introduced her to fetish fantasy/Female Domination and that their practice of this lifestyle had escalated during the years of their marriage. By the end, she said, they'd progressed to the point of his being her complete sex slave. Her only concession to his sexual need, she admitted, was "to always make myself desirable by wearing erotic lingerie or leather, ensuring my make-up and hair was perfect, and by wearing high heels." Stacy explained that her ex was more into sensuous domination and foot worship than hard core S/M. When she whipped him, she wrote, "it was more voluptuous than cruel. Make no mistake, though. He suffered for me and was glad to do it."

Guess where Stacy's letter went.

I waited a few more days but there were no further responses. ("Alas," I hear the reader cry. "You got three good ones. What are you, greedy?") It was time to begin setting up appointments. Because there was more than one, and because I could choose only one, I decided the initial meetings would have to be in a private yet neutral setting. My reasoning included the fact that two people (maybe all three!) might be upset about not being chosen and, if they were so inclined, could do some heavy personal and property damage if they knew where I lived. I booked a hotel the following week, then began making appointments. During each call, I explained there was more than one lady being interviewed and that, for security reasons - for them and for me - meeting in a public place was best for our first get-together. I gave them their choice of times -- at two or five in the afternoon or at eight o'clock that night. Coincidentally, the order of the appointments was the same as the mail, Linda first, then Jane, and Stacy coming in during the evening.

The next Wednesday, I checked into the downtown HoJo's at noon. Since I planned on staying downtown I brought a change of clothing and, of course, as some b/d toys. The room's layout was impressive. It was a corner suite, with one wall adjoining a fire exit and the other against the soda and ice machines area. Perfect for a modicum of privacy. At 1:50, room service delivered a fresh pot of coffee. At two, Linda knocked on my door. I greeted her politely, took her overcoat, hung it up, turned around and was pleased to be confronted by a shapely young beauty standing all of 5'4" in her spike heels. She wore a clinging off-white sweater (revealing a black bra beneath) and a tight, black skirt. I escorted her into the room and offered a chair by the coffee table. Sitting and crossing her legs, her skirt rode up to expose nylon tops. I poured the coffee and engaged Linda in a bit of introductory small talk before getting to the heart of the matter.

"I have your letter responding to my ad but, just to broaden it a bit, would you mind giving me your understanding of why you're here?"

"Simple," she said. "I want to live near the university. I want it on the terms specified in your ad... and I want a slave."

Linda's forthrightness took me aback. Perhaps it was because, notwithstanding her obvious choice of erotic undergarments, she looked so young and innocent. Recovering and pressing on, I said, "In your letter you made reference to dominating an old boyfriend and making him perform oral sex. Has that been your only experience with Female Domination?"

She said that it had. I asked how that particular scene had come about.

Linda said it happened earlier that year. Her date for the evening, a fellow she'd recently met, had taken her to a formal dance. Both, she said, had been dressed to the nines, he in a tuxedo and she in a black evening gown. Linda explained that before she got dressed that evening she felt she wanted to be particularly feminine for her grand night out. It was, she said, only her third date with the guy and she felt their romance was heating up. Too, it wasn't often she was invited to a formal affair. She bathed and applied scrupulous care to the grooming of her hair and to the application of make-up before donning her most exotic lingerie. Both had enjoyed the evening, she said, particularly the stimulating slow dancing and the progressive building of mutual lust. Once they returned to her small, off-campus apartment they were all over each other, "necking and into heavy petting". It didn't take long until her gown was off and Linda was dressed only in her black, push-up bra, black panties, stockings and stiletto heels. At first, she said, her bra remained fastened as he kissed and nibbled on the exposed upper portions of her breasts. While he was doing that, Linda said, she'd opened his fly, pulled his member out and was stroking and caressing it.

"He was really turned on," she said. "And I loved feeling his cock pulse in my hand."

Gradually, he slipped from the couch to his knees before her on the floor, telling her how beautiful she was and how he wanted to kiss and lick every inch of her body. "And that's when he bent his head and began licking my shoes and feet." I asked how she felt about that.

"Because it was so different, at first I didn't know what to feel. But we were both so turned on it didn't seem to matter. I relaxed and enjoyed myself. It was obvious he was really into it. His whole body was shaking. And I loved the feeling of power ... looking down at this macho guy on his knees actually kissing and licking my shoes. What a feeling! He kept at it, getting more and more ardent. His tongue was working my feet and shoes in deep, deep passion. The man was worshipping me, making me feel like a goddess! His cock was out of my reach, but I saw it standing tall, all wet around that little hole at the top. By then, he was panting. He stopped kissing and licking my shoes long enough to take the belt from his pant loops and hand it to me. Then he took down his trousers and briefs before again getting back on the floor for more foot worship. I just leaned back, crossed my leg and held his belt at the end with the buckle on it."

"Then what happened? I asked.

"He begged me to use the belt on his backside. He wanted me to whip him! I wasn't born yesterday. I'd heard of people making ‘whip me, beat me' jokes and I knew jokes often weren't jokes at all. Besides, I'd read enough in Cosmo to know a lot of men are into Female Domination and fetishistic behavior. I took the belt, doubled it over and clenched it like I intended to go ahead and punish him. But the thing was so new to me that I asked him why he wanted a whipping. He said he felt so under my spell, so taken with me and my beauty, so slave-like, that he wanted me to reinforce those feelings by disciplining him.""And you did?"

"Yes. After a moment of thinking about it and how much I enjoyed seeing him so servile I decided if that was what he wanted - and I knew I wanted to do it - then I would. I didn't hit him very hard, though. It was more of a symbolic whipping than anything else was. He kept licking my shoes and sucking the high heel as I beat his butt. It made me ultra horny. I raised a welt or two before giving him his first order, to pull down my panties with his teeth and to get his tongue to work on my clit. That was essentially it."

I asked Linda if she reached orgasm during her first experience with domination. "Oh, yes. It was an earth mover, too," she responded.

"Did you allow him to cum?"

"Yes, but I did it the way I used to when I teased my dates in high school. I used both hands, cupping and gently squeezing his balls while I jerked him off with the other hand. I could feel him starting to cum and, at the precise moment before he did, I took my hand away from his cock and kept rolling his balls in my palm. He was fucking air as he came all over himself."

"Did you ever see him again?"

"No. After he came he seemed to detach himself from what happened. I think he was too embarrassed to call me after that. Too bad, actually. I really enjoyed it and wanted to play with him some more."

"That sounded exciting for you," I said. "But are you sure you understand the sexual nature of it all? The psychology? After all, you're still quite young."

Classified

Part 2

"Linda replied, "I may be young but I think I have the physical and mental goodies to keep you in your place." Even as she made the declaration she arched her body to show her spectacular shape - her breasts in the black bra straining against the sweater - giving me at the same time a view of her stocking tops and white thighs. "While that one encounter didn't give me a chance to fully explore Female Domination it did awaken my interest. I have a broad imagination and if you become my slave you'll be performing in lots of interesting and varied ways."

I'd earlier put my bondage equipment out of sight in the top drawer of the dresser. Standing and leading her to it, I took the handles and pulled it open, revealing the whip, shackles, collars, leash, dildo gag and connecting clasps. "Would you be comfortable using this kind of specialty gear to handle a man?" I asked.

Looking for just a moment, Linda picked up the collar and said, "Here, let me slip this around your neck." Buckling it tightly, she got the leash and attached it to the collar's D-ring. She looped the end of the leash over her wrist and said, "Now, slave, you've been collared and leashed by a young woman who's more into this than you might have thought. I fully intend being one hell of a Dominatrix."

I gave her a patronizing smile as we went back to the table, she holding the leash in her pretty hand. As I moved to sit and finish my coffee Linda, more assertive than she'd been up to now, said, "When you're wearing a collar around your neck and I'm holding the leash attached to it, you don't sit, you kneel."

Complying, I responded as any good slave would, "Yes, Mistress."

She asked about the house, her privacy, how much I traveled, whether or not she could have friends over on weekends, all the usual questions. When she wanted to know where my home was I hedged and gave only the general neighborhood. I said I hoped she understood that after my new Mistress was chosen I didn't want either of the two other Dominas, or any of their friends, to know where the house is. She said she understood the logic, "but since I'm the first of three interviews today I want to make sure I leave the right impression on you. First, kiss my shoes then take off all your clothes."

I bent my head and kissed the toe leather of both high heels before disrobing. She sat watching, never letting go of the leash. Naked, I again knelt before her. This wasn't a new experience for me (as you know), being nude and on the end of a leash held by a woman, but to be in the humiliating position with one so young stirred the fires within me.

"Lower your head so your chin touches your chest," she ordered.

I surreptitiously watched as she stood, peeled off her sweater and slipped off the skirt. Linda looked fabulous in her bra, panties, garter belt, stockings and high heels. Her long legs and full breasts were highlighted dramatically in the black lingerie. She got the cat ‘o' nine tails and wrist restraints from the drawer and returned to her chair, again sitting and crossing her leg. Putting the leash's grip in my mouth, she had me extend my arms toward her and put the shackles on my wrists. Mistress Linda fondled the cat and sensuously stated, "I like this whip. Turn around."

My young Mistress didn't hesitate. She raised the cat and delivered about 20 lashes in a moderately hard, yet slow cadence. Her thrashing was centered on my upper thighs and buttocks. By the time she'd finished, there was no doubt in my mind I'd been whipped. The stinging, yet tingling combination of pain/pleasure affected me deeply. The cat was in her hand at my lips as she commanded, "Kiss it, slave. Kiss the whip that's been used to beat you and which I plan using on you a great deal in the future."

Obeying, my cock grew from semi-stiffness to a sturdy erection. Mistress Linda noticed and ordered I suck her high heels and thank her for my whipping. Between sucks of the spiky heels and licks to her insteps, I thanked her as she held the leash taut. "Since you're going to be seeing two other ladies today I don't want you in peak condition. Take that stiff cock in your hand and focus all you’re attention on my body, my tits, legs and shoes. Pull it for me. Harder. Faster. Don't cum until I give permission."

I was already near the point of ejaculation and begged her to let me. Bringing her hand down to my cock, she said, "Do it, slave. Cum in your new Mistress' hand."

I exploded, she catching it all. Smiling as I regained a bit of my composure, Mistress Linda brought her cum-drenched hand to my forehead and drew it downward, wiping it all over my face - my eyes, nose, cheeks, mouth and chin. She held her hand to my mouth and commanded I lick it completely clean. Working my tongue on her palm, between her fingers, then sucking entire fingers, I collected and swallowed my cum; her eyes sparkling and her smile never fading. "Now use your tongue to mop up as much cum from your chin and upper lip as you can."

Mistress Linda watched, presumably making her own assessment of my worth. Seemingly reaching a decision, she released my wrists and said she wanted to hear from me tomorrow. She was avid in her praise of our session, saying she'd enjoyed it immensely and that she was looking forward to making me her slave, to inflicting even more pain and humiliation. I asked, based on her limited experience with domination, how she knew about the rituals of whip kissing, high heel sucking, and all the other dominant subtleties and symbolism she had imposed. I was surprised to hear her say: "After reading your ad and writing my response, I checked out a few of the others. I found a professional Mistress' phone number, got in touch with her and told her about my situation. She was kind enough to let me watch her do a few sessions. She also coached me on how to handle you. Do you know Mistress Jacqueline from Richmond?

That explained it. I had seen Mistress Jacqueline a number of times over the years and, it was clear, Mistress Linda had divulged my name to her. Helping with her coat she said, "Goodbye, slave. Before I leave, get back down on your knees and kiss both of my shoes. I want you to get used to being in that position when I'm around."

Not a moment after her departure, I headed for the shower to clean up for Jane and to reflect on Mistress Linda. Soaping down entirely and washing the dried cum from my face, I then dressed and headed down to the coffee shop to pick up a sandwich. On the way back I almost tripped over a chambermaid in my rush. At ten to five, Jane called to say she'd be here by 5:10 and when she arrived she wanted me to be waiting naked and on my knees. Hurriedly, I ate the sandwich and took off my clothes to await her. The welts on my buttocks from Mistress Linda's whipping were still very much in evidence. At 5:15, there were three rapid-fire knocks on my door. Using the peephole, I made sure it was a woman before getting down on my knees to open it. Jane brushed by and walked to the room's center. "I'm your Mistress Jane," she announced. "Crawl over here, slave, and greet me properly."

She was short - about five feet - wearing a business suit, black boots, a pearl necklace and matching earrings. Her appearance was every bit what you might expect of a businesswoman. She had nice long hair and was beautifully made-up, including eye shadow that gave her a foreboding appearance. On all fours, I approached this little package of dynamite and kissed her boots until she told me to stop. She ordered I stand and take her jacket off. Walking to the closet, I hung it, then returned to the floor and crawled back to her. She'd made herself comfortable in one of the chairs. Seeing the welts on my ass from Mistress Linda's whipping, Jane said, "I see your first appointment went well. What did she use on you?"

"My whip, Mistress."

"Get it, bring it to me, and stay on your hands and knees."

Opening the door, retrieving it and putting in my mouth, I crawled back to her. Her hand patted my cheek first, then ran lovingly down the strands of the cat ‘o' nine tails. She took it and said, "Although I've never actually whipped a man I've read enough to know I'm going to enjoy this. Lie face down on the bed."

My brain went into overtime. Phrases such as "Oh, oh!" came to mind. Nonetheless, I did as she demanded. I heard Mistress Jane remove her blouse and skirt, then move back to my side. Next came the blistering whip, three quick lashes. I screamed. "We can't have you making all that noise," she said. "What have you got that I can use as a gag?"

I asked her to check the top drawer of the dresser. While she rummaged through it, I noted she was wearing a robin's egg blue matching set of bra, panties and garter belt. Her breasts spilled over the top of the front-clasping bra. As well, of course, she had on those spike-heeled boots and seamed stockings.

Giggling a bit, she took the penis gag and slid it into my mouth, tying it at the back of my neck. She'd also retrieved the cuffs and connected my wrists - "out of the way," she said - in front of me. Taking up her position again, she whipped in earnest. This wasn't sensual; it was a full-scale flogging. At some point, my agony was dulled by nerve endings, which had overdosed on the pain. The more she whipped the more I fell under her spell. I was hers. She owned me.

Tears coursed down my cheeks when she stopped. "There. That's a proper introduction to my dominance," she said. "How do you feel, slave?"

I turned from the pillow and mumbled around the cock gag. She laughed, removed it and ordered me back to my knees on the floor. I licked her boot, thanked her for my punishment and asked how I might please her. "Oh, that's simple, slave. Just tell me where I'm moving. I want you as my full-time whipping boy."

I told Mistress Jane she made me feel I was her property, that a guy as tall as me (6'4"), worshipping such a petite woman, was a dream come true. I also told her what I'd told Mistress Linda, that I would call and let her know. She wasn't as understanding. Instead of acknowledging my remarks, she commanded, "Sit on the edge of the bed. I want to have a look at what other goodies you've got in that drawer."

Picking it all up, she carried the toys and leather back, dumping them on the bedspread. Drawing a breast from her bra she said, "You know, slave, whipping you turned me on. I want you to kiss my breast while I put this collar around your neck." While she tightened and buckled it, I was tonguing and licking her nipple to a cherry hardness. Mistress Jane clicked the leash in place, too, and drew herself away from my mouth moving to shackle my ankles as well. Then came the cock and ball harness. Her exquisite hands handling my genitalia, even as she put them in bondage, was heaven. And, again, she stood and offered me her nipple. I loved sucking her breast while her arm wrapped around my head to draw me close. "That's enough for now," she said, gently withdrawing her nipple. "Get back down on your knees."

The penis gag still amused her. She laughed and said, "I want to see you in everything."

With the four inches of rubber cock in my mouth, my ankles and wrists bound, my cock erect and confined and a collar around my neck, Mistress Jane sat back to inspect her handiwork. Running the whip's tails through the fingers of her other hand she said, "I think it's time for more flogging, don't you?"

I shook my head emphatically. I didn't think I could take any more of her cruelty.

Teasingly she asked, "What's the matter, slave? Aren't you the one who advertised for a Dominant Female and said she should be ready to own and train a slave? Isn't training you to obey me exactly what I'm doing?" Pulling the leash and using it as a guide, she had me draped half over the bed, my knees still on the floor. She stood to the side and again brought the whip down over my ass. This time, though, it wasn't as painful. She caressed more than hurt. While inflicting this new discipline, she was saying such things as: "Look at the slave's big, hard cock. My pussy is just soaking wet, slave. I love having you all tied up. Whipping a man who's on his knees with a hard-on like yours makes me horny. When I'm through flogging you, you'll be licking my boots first, then I'm going to cum all over your miserable tongue."Mistress Jane pulled me off the bed and sat where I'd so recently been face down. She offered her boot to my mouth and I, the submissive fool, tried kissing it again - in passionate abandon - even with my mouth still blocked by the dildo gag. My submission apparently pleased her because I was rewarded with a pat on the top of my head before she again removed the cock. "Now do it properly," she instructed. "This time with your tongue." She stopped me just long enough to slip her panties down and off, then had me resume my foot worship. She told me to work my way up her stockinged leg to her pussy. Mistress Jane squirmed during my oral lovemaking. I ate and ate, Mistress Jane literally fucking my face, moving her muff all over my mouth. True to her word, she left my chin, cheeks and mouth absolutely drenched with her cum.

Resting for a moment, she released my hands and led me to a wall, ordering I get my ass as close to it as I could. I was to then shuck my butt up the wall until I rested only on my shoulders with my legs extended straight up. Mistress Jane stood over me, leash still in hand, teasing with her body, particularly her breasts. Crouching, she took my cock in her hand and stroked, sensuously, seriously and determinedly. It was less than a minute and I was ready to cum. "Open your mouth, slave. You're about to shoot your load straight down and into your mouth. Cum, now!"The thick, white fluid shot directly into my waiting, open mouth. For the second time that day I ate my bodily secretions."You're one sad looking slave, slave. Two beatings and two cums in one afternoon and, perhaps, still more to go. I know I was better than the first lady you saw and I don't think the third has much left to work on." Mistress Jane was getting dressed as she talked.

"I want to hear from you tomorrow because I plan on having you help me move this weekend. Any questions?""No, Mistress Jane. You're a marvelous woman."Again it was off to the shower. Toweling dry, the huge bathroom mirror reflected the condition of my body. My back was striped and welted, Mistress Jane's whipping overlapping the one I had taken earlier from Mistress Linda. I wasn't sure I wanted to see Stacy, my third and last appointment. I'd been drained sexually and was physically hurting. But I knew it was too late to reschedule. A quick trip down to the restaurant for another sandwich, then some sitting by my room's window reflecting on the events - so far - of my day. I couldn't help but compare the styles of the two Mistresses. Mistress Linda was by far the more sensual and subtle while Mistress Jane was the more domineering and cruel. What would Stacy be like, I wondered?

Classified

Part 3

At eight o'clock I found out.

Stacy was a tall, slim blonde, who revealed an absolutely delicious, busty frame. She was dressed in standard garb and arrived carrying an overnight bag. Her attitude was more along the lines of that expressed by Mistress Linda, more confident in her feminine allure and, thus, not finding it necessary to come on in a high-powered manner. We sat by the coffee table and I, I thought, behaved charmingly over our small talk. Eventually I zeroed in on the topic, which had brought us together, asking what she expected of this rendezvous. Stacy said she was meeting me now in a preliminary step toward taking me on as her slave and moving into the apartment at my house. Her statement was delivered in a matter-of-fact tone indicating she knew exactly what she wanted and how she planned on getting it. I asked what she meant in her letter about her ex-husband being kept collared and her now wanting a similar relationship. Stacy said that at the beginning of their marriage she'd found his stash of Female Domination magazines, books and videos. During the time she had alone at home, she said, she read and viewed everything. And, she said, she began identifying with the Dominant Women portrayed in them. She said she began to love the idea of making a man her slave. She knew her husband didn't have the guts to bring the subject into the open so she gradually purchased the kinds of sexy lingerie the models in the videos and magazines wore. She also bought ultra high-heeled shoes and a leather skirt. On occasion, she said, she would be wearing her spikes and her leather skirt when he got home from work. Stacy said she posed in her most beguiling, yet subtle, manner - much as the models in the magazines did. It wasn't long before he started to take notice.

It was then that she began her indoctrination program.

I pressed for details.

After a week of teasing him in this manner, she said, he arrived home one evening to find her on the couch wearing elbow length gloves, a lacy, push-up bra, her leather mini-skirt, seamed stockings and knee-high, spiked boots. Beside her, she said, were some B & D items she'd picked up at a leather store downtown. She told him to take his clothes off and to kneel. Stacy revealed finding his magazines and told him his fantasies had become hers and that they were about to start living them. It was then that she put a slave collar around his neck. After that first encounter, she said, the usual drill saw her get home from work first. When he arrived, he had to strip at the front door, put on his collar and crawl to her. She always looked sexy in lingerie or leather or both. He was more addicted to fantasy bondage and discipline, she said, than he was to strict SM.

I was liking the sound of this already. "Did you buy any more bondage and discipline toys and equipment?"

"Yes," she replied. "We went on trips to New York and bought all kinds of nice whips, restraints, gags, collars and harnesses for me to use on him."

"What happened to all that gear when the marriage ended?"

"I kept it all. In fact, I brought some with me in my overnight bag. Would you like to see?"

I said I did whereupon Stacy opened her bag and spread the contents on the bed. There were all kinds of stuff, including garments and boots. She picked up a wooden-handled whip with leather tails, telling me it was her favorite. "It's a lot heavier than the small, all leather ones. I used this on him from time to time just to let him know I could, and would, dish it out."

Seizing a wide belt with clip-on attachments, she explained that it went around her slave's middle and she'd secure his wrists to it. I was looking at her boots. One had a small chain encircling the ankle with a support chain going under the foot immediately in front of the high heel. Stacy saw the direction of my gaze. "That was fun," she said. "I attached a short lead from his collar to the chain. His head was never more than 8 inches away from my boot as I moved around the house, him crawling to keep up."

I was getting steamed. The casual and natural manner in which Stacy spoke of her dominating ways was putting me in my place, working wonders on my libido. "Did you bring this equipment for any particular reason?" I asked, in a splendid display of stupidity. She gave me a look that, in effect, said, "dummy" but responded courteously, "Yes. I wanted to impress upon you that I'm not playing games and that I intend on giving you a very good idea tonight of how I use it and what I'm about."

"You know there have been applicants here already today."

"Yes, I do, and I imagine they managed to convey to you - in no uncertain terms - what they're all about."

I told her they had and that my body had paid the price.

"Well," she said. "If I'm going to compete with them in winning you as a slave, then I'm going to give you an example of what you can expect with me around the house. Take your clothes off."

I undid the buttons of my shirt, turned and let the sleeves slide down my arms. "Yes," she observed, "you have been properly disciplined, haven't you?"

No response was necessary.

Then, naked and standing before her, she strapped the belt around my waist, put cuffs on each wrist (but didn't secure them), encircled my neck with a three-inch collar and had me open my mouth. Placing the wooden handle of her whip between my teeth, she softly commanded, "Just hold it there for now. Get down on your knees and jerk your cock until you get it up, nice and hard. Think of me while you're doing it. I want to see a full erection and my whip still clenched in your mouth when I get back."

With that, Stacy gathered her garments and boots and went into the bathroom. I gripped her whip in my lips and my cock in my hand and pulled. Even by leaving the room she exercised her power. Minutes later, Stacy returned wearing the over-the-knee, spike heeled boots, stockings and a leather corset that stopped just short of reaching her breasts, exposing those bountiful orbs in their entirety. Her nipples were huge.

"Good boy," she said. "You're lucky it's up so nice and hard for me. What were you thinking while you waited?"

I addressed her as Mistress for the first time and told her that being ordered by her to hold a whip in my mouth, one that she might use on me, and to masturbate while awaiting her had caused all kinds of psychological havoc in my submission-obsessed brain.

"What kind of slave are you? Are you the kind who requires severity or are you the more compliant type who suffers because you want to give your discomfort and devotion to the lady who torments you?"

"Mistress. I'm still not fully trained. I was told by my former Mistress, Sandi, that what I needed was a two-day break session to rid me of my balkiness. She said she could see the desire was in me but she wanted to take me to a point where my mind couldn't, and wouldn't, focus on anything but her. Unfortunately, we never got around to that."

As I talked, Mistress Stacy clipped a short lead to my collar and pulled it down to her boot. She attached it to the chain around her ankle so my mouth was inches from her foot.

"Mistress, I believe I'm more on the wavelength of your ex. I'm still consumed by my desire to serve femininity and to be owned, humiliated and trained by a Mistress who uses a sensual approach rather than too cruel a method."

Before responding, Mistress Stacy attached my wrist shackles at the sides to the belt around my middle. "Lick my boot, slave, while I tell you what you're in for. From now on, when you arrive home, the first thing you'll do is get down on your hands and knees and kiss my feet. You'll stay in that position until either I tell you to stop or I turn around. If I turn around, you will lift the back of my dress, pull my panties down and press your lips to my ass. This isn't optional. You will greet me in this manner each and every time you see me, whether or not you're in the mood and regardless of whatever event occurred that day in your business or personal life. When we're alone in the house, you will always be naked and always maintain a presence, which keeps your head no higher than my waist, unless I give permission to the contrary. You will put eyebolts on open sections of wall in both my quarters and your own where I can secure you by a lead attached to your slave collar. I also want an X-frame built so you can be nicely immobilized while I tantalize, torture, tease and, yes, whip you. The break session Mistress Sandi never got around to taking care of is most certainly in your future, slave."

Her speech was mesmerizing. I began to shake as she described her intentions for me if she was the one who moved in. She stood and moved to the bathroom for a glass of water. I had no choice but to follow. It was awkward, to say the least, because of my hands being attached to the belt. I had to keep my head low enough so she could walk relatively unrestricted. She carried her whip. At one point I faltered. Calmly, Mistress Stacy said that wouldn't do and brought the lash down hard over my already sore ass. I yelped and promised I'd do better, managing to follow her to the bathroom and back without earning further discipline.

Crossing the leg to which foot I was attached, she allowed a little more flexibility in that I was now able to look upwards at her body and her eyes. She smiled and said this is what she'd been missing, having a man as a slave chained by his collar to her boot and on his knees before her. Mistress Stacy said she wanted to give me a whipping but was concerned I may have had enough for the day. Before thinking about it, I blurted out that if she wanted to whip me I would be honored. She reached down and lovingly patted the top of my head, saying, "So, my new slave wants a taste of this gorgeous whip, does he? Kiss and lick it, slave, and beg for 25 lashes."

"Oh, please, Mistress Stacy," I pleaded. "Please honor me by making me your slave and punishing me with 25 strokes of your whip." I kissed and licked it and her boot at the end of my plea.

"Very well, slave. I'll just add my two cents worth to what you've already had." She reached into her bag extracting more goodies. Unlatching my collar-lead from her boot and releasing my arms from the belt, she refastened them to the short lead hanging down from my collar. Taking what looked like a cat collar, she grasped my cock and balls and wrapped it around everything, tightening it at the base of my very hard cock. The she gave it a slap.

Taking two restraints, she put them on my ankles and, using a short connector, attached it between my legs to the cat collar around my balls. Flat on my face on the floor, my legs bent and secured to the collar around my cock and balls and my arms restrained high on my back, I was in thorough bondage. One muscle spasm or involuntary reaction and I'd likely castrate myself. Walking to where my face lay on the carpet, Mistress Stacy gently pulled my head up and inserted her own gag into my mouth. "You're all ready to be whipped, slave. But I wonder how much you'd enjoy it if I were to just put my clothes back on and leave you like this for the maid to find in the morning."

I froze. Could she possibly be meaning that?

Mistress Stacy laughed and said, "Don't worry. You're just too tantalizing to pass up. It's been too long. I want to whip you."

With that, she began. She wasn't being brutal but her punches weren't being pulled either. I was thoroughly whipped. Throughout the beating, Mistress Stacy spoke quietly, punctuating her remarks with the lashes from her whip: "This is wonderful. I knew I missed domination but didn't realize how much until now. You're going to learn that this won't be a relationship that...gets turned on and off...only when you're in the mood. This will be full time, whenever we're together...either at home or in public. You will always be subservient to me. And when I have my girlfriends visiting you'll serve them, too. You'll kiss and lick their feet at my direction. And you'll obey their orders. I may even let them whip you from time to time. Would you like that, slave? Of course you would."

I was hurting but I was entranced, too. Mistress Stacy was beguiling and beautiful. When it ended, she released my feet allowing thus allowing me to extend them back to a more natural position. Pulling the gag from my mouth, she wiped at my tears and said, "Slave, you're committed. You want me more than you've ever wanted any other woman. I know it and you know it. Get back up on your knees."

Struggling into position, my cock made it obvious I agreed with everything she'd just said. Mistress Stacy released my hands from the collar and sat on the bed. "Now, slave, do you have any doubts about my knowledge and capabilities?"

"No, Mistress," I responded. "I think you're beautiful."

"Good. Put your head back down to my boot so I can reconnect you. Lick it and thank me taking the time to visit with you tonight."

I was licking leather as I said, "Thank you, Mistress Stacy. You're absolutely perfect - beautiful, dominant, sexy and sensuous. Thank you for putting your marks on me. You have absolutely captivated me."

"You're not quite finished yet, slave. My breasts have are a direct love-line to my pussy. When they're sucked and kissed properly, I can reach orgasm." She unfastened my collar and cupped both of those large tits in her hands, offering them to me. I leaned forward and began a butterfly flick on a nipple, gradually sucking it into my mouth and kissing, licking and gently blowing on it. The intimacy was repeated on her other breast. Mistress Stacy moaned in pleasure. She ground her breasts into my face, moving constantly until she became rigid and orgasmed.

Recovered, she instructed I lie on the bed, flat on my back. Mistress Stacy stood, took the longer leash and snapped it onto the cat collar around my genitals, then gave a tug. "Pull that cock for me, slave. Show me how much you want me. Squeeze it. Fondle it. Give me a show."

Performing for her was reminiscent of the masturbating I'd done to the pictorial layouts in magazines, imagining actually making love to the unattainable beauties therein. She leaned forward, her nipples making contact with my cock head. They shone with the juices of my pre-cum.

"I want to see you cum, slave. I want that white slime shooting straight up in the air. Cum, slave. Cum now."

Movements quickening, my cock engorged and, just a moment before I released, Mistress Stacy brought her breasts directly in line with my shooting cock. I drenched them. She leaned over, told me to open my mouth and to catch the cum rivulets as they formed on her nipple and dropped off. Afterwards, she had me lick her tits entirely clean.

Mistress Stacy joined me on the bed, released me from her bondage and lay beside me, snuggling. The afterglow was fabulous.

A little later, we got dressed and she packed away her equipment and exotic clothing in the overnight bag. Standing by the door to say goodnight, she put her hand on my shoulder and applied slight pressure. "What I said earlier about how you'll be greeting me also extends to how you say goodbye. Lick my shoes, kiss my ass and stay on your knees until I'm in the corridor."I worshipped my Mistress once more; grateful she had spent a little time in my life. A maid passing by saw us. It made the encounter that much more thrilling and humiliating.

Classified

Part 4

And now it was 11:30. I was alone in the hotel room with my thoughts. Mistress Linda was superb, Mistress Jane was delicious and Mistress Stacy was absolutely overwhelming. I was exhausted and badly welted. I decided to wait until the next morning when I could be more objective in deciding which Mistress I wanted to serve permanently. I slept well, awakening only when I heard a key in my door and the maid saying she was there to make up the room. Checking my watch, I saw it was only 8 o'clock. I asked her to come back later. The sun was beating through the window unrelentingly and I just couldn't get back to sleep. Instead, I phoned room service and had them send up some breakfast along with a morning newspaper.

Lingering over my second cup of coffee, the maid returned. She was a young, pretty girl who didn't possess the reticent demeanor of the typical hotel employee. She wore the standard nylon-black tunic, filling it nicely I might add, had hair that hung below her shoulders and cared enough about herself to maintain her hands and nails in beautiful condition. "Don't you have someplace to go?" she demanded.

"Not yet," I said. "I had a rather heavy day yesterday."

"Yeah," she said. "I know."

She knew! What could she possibly know? I asked what she meant.

"I know you had three women in here who beat you and that you seemed to enjoy it," was her response.

Her attitude said she was more interested than put off. I wanted to know what she knew and why it might mean something to her. The name on her tag was Diana. She said her mother worked the afternoon and early evening shift and that she'd come home to tell her about the guy in 311 getting three lady callers and the sounds of thrashings going on in there. Her mom had said the guy liked it because between women he'd been out in the corridors and down in the coffee shop vibrant and full of energy. Her mother, apparently, was the one who saw me on my knees as Mistress Stacy left.

"Is that why you came into my room so early?"

"Yes," she said. "I wanted to see what you looked like."

"And do I look any different than you expected?"

"No. In fact, I think you're kind of cute, for a slave."

For a slave! There was something happening here. Obviously, the scene wasn't new to her. With a little more give and take, I told her the whole story about my house and the interviews. She said that if she'd seen the ad she likely would have been my fourth interview. I stood and draped my housecoat down over my back and legs. "Do you really think you could get fulfillment and enjoyment from doing something like this?"

"I know I could. I love whipping men."

She approached and ran her hand down my back and tush, then back up again. "What did they use on you?"

I opened the drawer, took out my whip and handed it to her.

"Oh, isn't this the pretty little thing," she exclaimed, running the tails through her fingers. "I've got one just like it at home."

That was interesting. I invited her to sit down and tell me about it. Diana said it was a long story, one that she wouldn't normally tell, but since we seemed to have something in common she'd run it by me. She and her mother shared an older home in the West End. Ever since she was a little girl, it had only been the two of them. Her father had left before she had any memory of him. Her mother had men who helped pay the mortgage and keep Diana in clothing. She said she gradually figured out there were a lot of men who visited but who didn't stay long. As she moved into her teens and attended high school, her mother began specializing in dominance. While she knew that Diana knew, the topic was one that was left unspoken. Diana said a portion of the basement had been equipped in a dungeon style.

One day, she said, she left school early and returned home. Upon entering the house, she heard her mother's voice coming from the cellar. Those words were still crystal clear in her head: ‘You're my slave, asshole. And I'm going to whip the hell out of you until you cry and beg me to stop.'

With that, Diana heard the distinct sounds of leather meeting skin and loud masculine moaning. She said she quietly went upstairs and waited until the slave had gone. Confronting her mother afterward she said she was surprised to see her dressed in leather, her bust exposed and her feet in extremely high spiked boots. Diana said she told her she couldn't help but overhear what had gone on and asked for an explanation. The unspoken was now out in the open. Her mother said there were many men who needed and wanted to be dominated by a woman, disciplined with sexual overtones. She said they were primarily men of higher education who held important jobs. She told Diana she never had sex with any of them, that she only bound, humiliated, disciplined and forced them to masturbate for her. Diana was intrigued. She told her mother she wanted to watch. Initially hesitant, her mother refused but after some convincing, capitulated. The next day, both had gone on a shopping expedition.

Her mom bought Diana a pair of spiked leather shoes, a black push-up, panties, garter belt and stockings. Diana's first participating session was arranged after some tutoring on the how’s and why’s of dominant behavior. When the slave rang the doorbell, Diana was waiting in her new lingerie, legs crossed, poised on the basement couch. She heard her mother tell the man to follow her. Diana said she felt a bit squeamish as she heard the sharp click-clack of her mother's heels on the floor above, then coming down the stairs. Just out of sight of where Diana sat, the slave was ordered to disrobe and to get on his knees. Diana saw her mother first, leading the slave on a leash into the session room. She said the man stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her but that her mother yanked on the leash and told him to get over to her and to kiss and lick her shoes.

"It was the strangest feeling I'd ever had. My mother was standing in front of me in full leather regalia and a naked man wearing a dog collar was licking my feet. She told him to lick her boots, too, before leading him over to the frame and tying him to it. Taking a whip out of the trunk, she teased him for a time with her body and her words before beating his ass to a bright red. I was fascinated as, after each stroke, the slave thanked my mom. She called me over and, handing me the whip, told me to try it out. I gave him a few lashes and he thanked me, too. Mom said I wouldn't break him and I should hit harder. I did. I put a lot more strength into whipping the guy and, wonder of wonders, I started getting turned on. I was all moist. Releasing him, Mom had him play with himself as he knelt before the two of us. Pretty soon, he came all over Mom's boot and she made him lick it up. I loved it. Seeing that slave using his tongue to clean his cum off Mom's boot was awesome. For the next month or so, Mom would let me be her assistant in other sessions. I learned a how to flog, how to behave, how to dominate and how to get peek obedience. Pretty soon, the guys were starting to ask for me alone. And I even did a couple them. It was great."

"When," I asked, "did you do a session by yourself? How old were you?"

"My first slave was the first guy Mom let me whip. For anybody else, I was a sweet eighteen. For my slaves, I was a sadistic Dominatrix. Anyway, the guy called about six weeks later and asked if I would dominate him alone. By that time, I'd grown much more comfortable in my Mistress role and had done quite a few sessions with Mom. He told me he loved the idea of serving such a young Mistress and suffering humiliation at the hands of someone as pretty as me. I was excited by the prospect of doing him on my own. I wanted to be in complete command and not Mom's second fiddle. But I was still too young to just accept him. I checked with Mom first. Surprisingly, she agreed readily and even filled me in on some of the things this particular slave liked and needed. When he arrived, I met him at the door wearing a black negligee over my bra, panties, and garter belt, stockings and high heels. I also had on a pair of black leather, elbow length gloves. After taking and stashing his tribute, I led him to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, I ordered him to take off his clothes and to get on his knees. His cock was already up nice and hard. I had him lick my shoes while I put the collar around his neck, then led him over to the frame, doggy-style. When he'd been secured snugly, I used my hands to caress his ass, marveling that it was mine to whip, that I could whip and tease him as much as I wanted. And I wanted to. I started with teasing. Reaching between his legs, I circled the top of his bag with my fingers and began pulling and squeezing. I alternated that with stroking his cock. He moaned and tried to bring his head around to see me. I yanked on his leash and told him to stand still. He was squirming. Letting go, I walked over to Mom's trunk and made a big, slow production of opening it and searching for the right whip. I told him that because I was a teenage didn't mean he was going to get off lightly. Knowing he could see me, I made a show of picking up two or three different punishment toys and appeared to consider each before shoosing a swishy little buggy whip. His anxiety level went up noticeably the longer I took to make my choice."

Diana interrupted her story to observe the tent pole in my housecoat. "You are a slave, aren't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, I am, Mistress, but please finish your story."

"Before I do, I want you on your knees here at my feet. Lick my shoes."

Diana waited until I was in position, tongue laving her shoe, before picking up where she'd left off. "After picking the whip I intended using, and making sure I didn't wander out of his line of sight, I walked up to the front of him, looked him in the eye and told him I enjoyed whipping and dominating men and that I was looking forward to leaving my marks on his back. He begged me not to do that because he was married and didn't want his wife to see them. I told him I didn't give a damn, that he was here to be my slave and whipping boy, and that I'd do what I pleased. And it would please me to reduce him to a pulp. You should have heard the begging. It was music to my young ears. This was the first time I had a slave all for myself and I intended to enjoy it to the max. And besides, Mom had told me this one was more into mental domination than actual physical abuse. I was making sure he got his money's worth."

To me, Diana said, "Keep licking my shoe, slave, and while you're at it, stroke that big cock, too. I know my story is turning you on. Don't cum."

"I gave his cock a few jerks and kissed him flush on the lips. I wanted him to know he was my toy and I'd do whatever I wanted with him. He was horny and so was I. I ran my gloved had over his lips and he kissed and licked it. Then I said I was ready to whip him. I held the buggy whip for him to kiss, too. When he puckered up, I laughed. Remembering how Mom did it, I told him to count the lashes and to thank me after each. It was beautiful! I loved whipping him. I loved knowing that I knew things about him his clerks, and even his wife, would never know. He must have gotten about 35 lashes from my whip that day. Not all at once, mind you. Every now and then I'd stop to rub his ass and squeeze his cock. I wanted to keep him hard and horny. When I let him free of the rack, he fell to his knees and kissed my feet, thanking me for what he called ‘a splendid whipping.' I led him by the leash on his knees over to the couch where I sat, crossed my beautiful leg and made myself comfortable. His cock was pointing straight up at me."

"Speaking of cocks, how's yours doing, slave?"

Classified

Part 5

"I could cum any moment, Mistress."

"Then just hold it, don't play until I give you permission."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Anyway, I told my first slave to wrap his hand around it and to show me how much he wanted me. I ordered him to pull it for me, to milk it, to caress it, to squeeze it. While he was obeying me, I put my foot under his balls and lifted them. My bra was one of those push-ups with the clasp in front. I released it and offered him a nipple to suck on. You should have seen it. What a picture it would have made. Me sitting on the couch in my stockings, high heels, gloves and half-opened bra holding a leash attached to a collar around a naked man's neck, him jerking off on his knees as my foot caressed his balls and he licked my tit. God, I wish I had a portrait of that. I told him to cum all over my shoe. As soon as I said it, he did it. What a load! He moaned and gasped as he shot. When the last drop landed on my high heel, I nudged his balls with my foot and told him to bend his head and to lick it all up. I wanted him to swallow his load. He did. And I felt absolutely grand. I went to my room and masturbated after he'd dressed and left."

Her story had shaken me. Now I understood why she'd been anxious to meet me and why she'd been at my door so many times that morning. This Dominatrix loved her first profession. The thing that bothered me, though, was why she and her mother now worked as chambermaids. I asked.

Diana said her mother had met and married a man who was a straight arrow. Since she still lived at home, they both had to get work to supplement his income. He apparently knew of their past and had absolutely refused to allow their domination situation to continue.

"So that explains why you know so much about men's submissive sides."

She smiled, played with the whip and said, "I'd love to get my own place where I could have all the slaves I wanted, have lots of money and get out of this stupid job. Did you make a decision about which one of those ladies you met yesterday is the one you're going to ask to move in?"

I'd all but determined whom I wanted as my full time Mistress, but I said I was still considering it. I didn‘t say so but I thought having Diana move into the apartment at my house and setting up as a ProDom both turned me on and turned me off. After all, the whole idea from the beginning was to have a Mistress for myself. But by not saying it I thought I might encourage her to try for herself.

I was right.

Taking her feet from my mouth, standing and looking into the drawer, Mistress Diana got the collar, leash and shackles and put them on me. She took off her shoes and the uniform and sat on the bed. Now wearing only a black bra and panties, she looped the leash over her wrist, grasped the whip and told me to suck her toes, every one of them. As I licked and sucked, she swung the whip over my back and shoulders in moderate strokes.

"Do you like my feet, slave? Do you like the taste of my toes?"

"Yes, Mistress. They're delicious."

"Then worship them. Worship my toes ... suck them ... take all of them in your mouth. Work your way up my leg. Telling you the story of my first slave and what I did to him has me all wet. I want to feel your tongue on my cunt."

I was soon at her inner thigh. She instructed me to take off her panties. Lapping furiously, I ate Mistress Diana for all I was worth even as she kept beating me. The more I licked, the harder she whipped. I was sure my back looked like a warped version of an Xs and Os playing board. She came. And the beating I took as she orgasmed was brutal.

I was sniffling when she drew me on the bed beside her. My hands still cuffed behind; she had me lie on my back as she got into position above. Slowly, she lowered herself onto my towering erection and teased me until I couldn't hold back. I came just as she lifted herself off and my cum shot into space, splashing back down on my stomach. Scooping as much as she could in her hand, Mistress Diana had me lick it clean, and kept doing so until there was no more cum to find. Leaving me there, she put her uniform on, used the note pad by the phone to write her phone number, and then released my arms.

"If what I've told you and what I've done to you, without being prepared, has made any impact, slave, I want you to now consider you've got four Mistresses to choose from."

With that, she left.

I got up, sat by the window, lit a cigarette and reflected upon the events of the past day. I'd been under the domination of four wonderful women. I'd been in bondage. I'd been whipped. I'd been on my knees licking shoes, boots, feet and pussy. I'd been humiliated. I'd eaten my own cum four times in less than 24 hours. And I'd been smitten by all the Mistresses, for different reasons. I looked at the three letters again, remembering my experiences with Mistresses Linda, Jane, Stacy and Diana.

Mistress Linda had captivated me with her daring, yet inexperienced domination. With a little more experience, she would be dynamic. Mistress Jane, acting on instinct and her study of various publications had approached her first domination session with the poise of a long-time practitioner. Mistress Stacy knew how the submissive mind worked. She played her superiority and my submission to the max, making me only want to serve her the more. And Mistress Diana had provoked, stimulated and fired my imagination with her skill, desires and knowledge of Female Domination.

Yet, I knew which one I wanted to serve full-time. There really had never been any doubt about it. I picked up the phone and dialed.

She answered on the second ring. "What took you so long, slave?"