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[I've never written on this subject before and have no experience in domination. If a dominatrix should read this I'd appreciate her critique in the comments section.
I stopped my cart outside the office of the Director of Personnel for my employer; I work in the mail room and deliver to the various offices after the sorting is complete.
Miss Lawrence, Carolyn Lawrence is the Director. She’s a tall thin woman of around forty-five. She’s attractive in a severe dark sinister way, her hair is coal black, there’s not a hint gray, it’s cut short in an masculine style. She wears no make up and always dresses in black, skirts or pants suits, her breasts are small, pert mounds and she has slim boyish hips but her most outstanding feature is her eyes. So dark they appear black and when she holds you in their gaze it’s almost as though she can see through you.
She was away from her desk, I walked in and lay delivered her mail, I’d turned to leave when I heard a sound.
It was a tinkling sound that I followed with my ears, there was a door behind her desk, it was slightly ajar, I’d located the source of the sound. The door blocked my view but I noticed that I could see, in the mirror. Oh my God I thought, it was her private lavatory. The sound I’d heard was Miss Lawrence urinating. She was sitting on the toilet her skirt was rucked up over her hips and her pantyhose and panties were pooled at her feet.
I just stared in awe; I watched as she wiped, when she stood I saw her black bush. It was trimmed but full. She bent and pulled up her panties then repeated the motion for her pantyhose; finally she smoothed her skirt over her hips. She checked her appearance in the mirror and returned to her desk.
My face gave me away, she read my expression, turned and looked at the rest room door and looked back at me.
“Shut the door Terry,” she hissed.
I’m Terry, Terry Taylor, eighteen year old mail boy, and I’m fucked. I shut the door.
“Miss Lawrence I’m so…,” I stuttered.
She cut me off.
“I know what you are Terry, you’re a peeping Tom, you’re sorry all right, sorry you got caught.”
“Did you like watching Terry? Did you like what you saw?”
I stood mutely.
“Terry my damned question wasn’t rhetorical, I expect an answer. Did you like watching me?” She railed.
I nodded my head saying, “Yes Miss Lawrence, I liked what I saw.”
“What did you see Terry, what did you like?”
I sighed, “I saw you sitting on the toilet Miss Lawrence, I saw you clean yourself and then you stood up and pulled up your panties and pantyhose.”
She had a malevolent look in those black eyes, “What did you like best Terry?”
I was embarrassed but she was going to force me to answer, “When you wiped Miss Lawrence, when you touched yourself.”
She sat and pushed her chair away from her desk, “Come here,” she ordered.
I wanted to run, flee, but I couldn’t, she held with her gaze. I walked slowly to her, I stood beside her, I was terrified but, strangely, I was aroused. I was tenting my slacks.
As she unfastened my belt, pulled down my zipper and let my slacks fall to the floor. I now stood there in my tighty whities, stiff as a board. I had no idea what was coming next.
“Terry, it looks to me like you’re enjoying this, are you?” She asked as she lowered my underwear, my cock sprung to attention.
Miss Lawrence stood, raised her skirt to her hips, sat down and grabbed my erection, “Terry, you’re a naughty boy, a peeping Tom and you deserve to be punished.”
She jerked on my cock and I fell across her lap. I fell with my cock between her open thighs, she clamped them shut, trapping me.
“Oh yes, you’re a naughty boy Terry,” she whispered as she began to spank me.
“Naughty boy, naughty boy,” she intoned as she beat my ass black and blue.
My eyes were tearing, my mouth was whimpering but my cock was raging. She hit me again and I spurted, uncontrollably, inexplicitly, I shot off.
My first thought was, Oh Christ Terry, you’re dead now, she’ll you.
She felt the pulsing of my cock, how could she avoid it, she had me trapped between her legs. I just knew I wouldn’t survive but she quit spanking and reached across me to her desk. She wrote something on a slip of paper.
Miss Lawrence opened her thighs releasing me and said, “Get up.”
I stood, she said, “Get dressed,” I pulled my shorts and slacks back up.
She was looking from me to her thighs, thighs that were now coated with a white creamy substance, my semen, and then back at me.
“You’re not only a naughty boy; you’re a nasty boy, too.”
She locked those evil eyes on me, handed me the slip of paper she’d written on and said, eight o’clock tonight and don’t be late, now get out of my sight.”
I fled her office, grabbed my cart and continued my rounds, I was afraid to read what she’d written.
When I’d finished I stopped in the cafeteria for a cuppa and my curiosity got the better of me, I unfolded the slip of paper. All it said was 1134 Erinyes Lane.
When I got back to my cubbie I Google mapped the address, it was a cul de sac, quite private, there was only one address, 1134.
I should have Googled the street, not just checked for its location; I might have had sense enough to run like hell, you question me, do two things, only two things and you’ll understand where I was going butI couldn’t resist her order, I would be there tonight at eight. But to the two things, first write 1134 on a piece of paper and turn it upside down and read it, second, Google Erinyes. That’s where I was going, that was my unsuspected destiny.
I arrived promptly at eight, the structure confronting me immediately brought to mind the old TV show, “The Munster’s” but that wasn’t intimidating enough, Bram Stoker’s “Dracula,” the Count’s castle might better describe this edifice; I rang the bell expecting a butler with dripping fangs.
Instead, Miss Lawrence answered, she was clad in a red robe.
“Please come in Terry,” she invited.
I entered and closed the door.
She started to walk toward the interior of the house, I followed saying, “Thank you Miss Lawrence.”
She spun around, pivoting on what I now noticed were four inch spike heels, from within the folds of the robe she produced a riding crop, she lashed me, I stood in shock, she continued to beat me, screaming,
“At the office I’m Miss Lawrence, here you will call me Mistress Carolyn,” she screeched.
Her blows continued to rain down; I fell to the floor and curled into the fetal position trying to protect myself.
She quit her beating and looked down at me like I was a specimen of an entomologist, a roach or some kind of insect, she sneered, “Better, much better, we know what you are don’t we, Terry, you’re nothing Terry, nothing at all unless I tell you what to be.”
“Strip, everything off now, you pervert, you peeping Tom. Move for your Mistress,” she screeched at me. She hit me again with that riding crop, across my ass and yelled. “Move it.”
I looked up at her, with her standing and me on the floor she looked ten feet tall. She’d shed the red robe and now stood over me, God she was an awesome sight.
She seemed so tall, towering over me as I cringed on the floor, she was clad in leather, black leather, it exposed her breasts, her nipples were rouged, red and swollen, the crotch of her outfit was missing, I could see her labia, even from the floor I could see she was leaking. I thought Valkyrie, God she wasn’t blonde, she didn’t have enormous breasts and she wasn’t astride a horse but she was intimidating, I was fearful of her.
I got out of my clothes and lay prostrated on the floor at her feet, those feet adorned in four inch spike heels.
“Get on your hands and knees slave,” she said.
I obeyed her command and she straddled me, maybe she didn’t have a horse but she had me, she pointed with her crop and I began to crawl.
I carried her on my back, I could feel her bare cunt riding my back, her heat and her moisture were leaking on me. She popped my bottom a couple of times with the crop, not hard, just reminding me who she was.
She guided me through an open doorway into another room. It looked like a house of horrors.
There was what appeared to be a doctor’s examination table complete with stirrups standing to one side, further in was a device that resembled a carpenter’s sawhorse, it was padded and had Velcro restraints affixed to each of the legs.
In the center of the room was a large chair, perhaps a Throne better describes it. She rode me to it and dismounted.
She sat, I was still on hands and knees, she instructed, in a low voice, “Prostrate yourself before your Mistress.”
Evidentially I didn’t move rapidly enough, she leaned forward and struck again with the crop, across my back screaming, “Down, get down.”
Flat on the floor, I lay with tears in my eyes.
“Look at me Terry,” she ordered.
I raised my eyes, she was smiling at me, she said, “You are under my thrall, which will be your name when you are with me here, you will answer to Thrall, do you understand?”
I whimpered, “Yes Mistress.”
“Wonderful Thrall, you may approach; clean my feet.”
I slithered to her and licked her shoe.
“No, no fool, take my shoes off, I want you to lick my feet and suck my toes.”
I removed her shoes and set them aside and licked the tops of her feet, raised first one and the other, laving the bottoms.
Her toes were long and slender, I picked up her right foot and took all five toes into my mouth, holding them between my lips, I ran my tongue over them all then began to concentrate on individual toes, starting with her little toe, I sucked.
I ran the tip of my tongue between her toes, then sucked the next.
As I sucked Mistress started to squirm on her throne, her movements intensified, she trembled. When I’d finished with her left big toe I glanced up. Mistress had a dazed look, I thought, my God, she’d had an orgasm.
“Very good Thrall, very good for your first time; as your reward you may now clean me.”
She thrust her pelvis forward telegraphing her demand. I crawled to her.
The seat of her throne was wet under her, her lips were drenched.
I licked her outer labia, then split her lips with my tongue and cleaned her vulva. It was my first taste of my Mistress, she had a tangy, spicy flavor, I licked upward to her clitoris, I flicked it with the tip of my tongue, she gave a little shiver then slapped the back of my head.
“You haven’t earned that yet, maybe another time but not tonight.”
She stood and bent over holding the back of the chair for support, “Now finish.”
Her crinkled anus was wet with her juices, they’d flowed down, I licked her, tasting and savoring her earthy musk. I reamed her with the tip of my tongue; she sighed and pushed her hips back to meet my small invader. I had the crazy thought; she’s anal erotic, maybe I’d get a little backside play. I was right but I was wrong.
She straightened saying, “Clean the seat.”
Her ejaculate covered the leather under where she’d been seated; I licked it up.
She resumed her seat and commanded, “Put my shoes back on.”
My task completed she said, “You may rise.”
I stood; she led me to the sawhorse device and bent me over it then affixed the Velcro straps around my arms and legs, binding me, holding me in place.
‘This not punishment Thrall, you’ve done quite well for a neophyte. This is a reminder that you’re mine, to be crude, your ass is mine to do with as I choose.”
She struck me with her crop, a viscous biting blow, it brought tears to my eyes and I moaned.
She struck me again, I pleaded, “Please Mistress no more, oooh, oooh.”
She struck me again, I sobbed.
She struck me again, seven more slashing strokes, she’d reduced me to a whimpering ball of pain, I was in agony but my body was betraying me, I was sporting a huge erection.
“Just remember Thrall, if I punish I start with twenty lashes depending on the severity of the offense.”
She released me from the restraints and helped me stand.
There was a wicked glean in her eye, “Did you like that Thrall, did you like your spanking?”
“Nnnno, Mistress,” I stuttered between little whimpering gasps.
“This seems to say otherwise,” she said as she grasped my erection.
“This tells Mistress that her naughty boy did like it. Would you like to cum Thrall, would you like some relief?”
“Yyyys, Mistress,” I managed to get out.
“Yes, I thought so, come, Mistress will help her little Thrall.”
Using my penis like it was a handle she walked me to the exam table.
“Get up on there, on your back and scoot down to the end.”
I did as she instructed. The table had a cut-out at its base; I scooted down until my butt overhung the cut-out.
She affixed a Velcro strap around my chest, then lifted my legs into the stirrups and immobilized them.
She stepped away from the table and disappeared behind a Chinese screen. A few moments later she reappeared.
She was standing between my splayed legs, I could only see her face and upper torso, her facial expression conveyed lust, arousal and pure lust.
I felt something cold being rubbed on my anus then she moved forward toward me.
I felt pressure then pain, a sharp lancing laceration, splitting me.
I wailed, “Aaaaaah,” as she her strap-on deep into my guts.
She stroked into me, not fast but long, powerful thrusts, going further and further into my bowels.
“Does my Thrall like how Mistress can take care of him, does he like it: huum, yes, I think so,” she said as she gripped my erection and jacked me in rhythm to thrusts.
I was mewling from the pain she was inflicting but if anything I wanted more, my cock was swollen, harder than I’d ever been, she felt it when I was ready to cum, she released me and pumped me harder, gripping my hips, she slammed into me.
I erupted, shot after shot of ropy cum gushed from me spewing over my belly, she held fast to my hips, pushed forward with her deepest intrusion and even in just her hands I could feel her shaking.
“Ooooh yessssss,” Mistress wailed, “Ooooh yessssss.”
She slumped back away from me, withdrawing her faux phallus from me. Unfastening my restraints she said, “Clean me Thrall.”
My cum coated body fell to its knees before her. She spread her legs; she was awash with her fluids, down the insides of both thighs. I cleaned her there then parted her labia and laved her vulva. Her vagina, her oh so desirable vagina, I sucked, vacuuming out her spicy nectar. Worse than a crack cocaine addiction, my craving for her taste, after only twice, I knew I’d endure any pain and humiliation she chose to inflict, just for another sip from her fountain of femininity.
“Get cleaned up Thrall, behind the screen there’s a basin, then come back here.”
I met her at the sawhorse; she’d donned her red robe.
“Thrall, our training for tonight is complete. We will meet here each Thursday at eight in the evening, please don’t be late. Tardiness merits punishment and we wouldn’t want that would we?”
“No Mistress.”
“I knew you’d understand.”
She had a small box in her hand.
“Before you go I have a present for you.”
From the box she took a butt plug.
“Any time you are in my presence, I expect you to be wearing this, whether here or at the office, you are to have it inserted.”
“Take it out at night and clean it. It has a battery, be certain that it is always charged. You can check like this.”
She twisted the base and it came alive.
“You can turn it on but do not change the setting. You understand what I desire?”
“Yes Mistress Carolyn,” I answered.
“Lean over the sawhorse.”
I did as she ordered, she slipped it in. It was slender, after the reaming she’d given me it went in easily.
“Thrall, I’ll know if you disobey, I’ll know if you’re empty, and that will earn punishment,” she said.
I felt a sensation, my eyes widened, “I’ll know,” she grinned at my discomfort, “Remote control.”
“I want to tell you the rules before you go:
When you enter here you are to immediately disrobe and crawl to me, I’ll give instructions from there regarding your training. Some evenings you may wash my feet as you did tonight. Other evenings you will be instructed to clean my bottom.
Here you will always address me as Mistress or Mistress Carolyn, outside, I’m Miss Lawrence.
She went through the remainder of the rules I was to live by. She ended by saying, if you obey the rules and perform satisfactorily, I may allow you to have intercourse with me; if you violate them you will be punished.
“Would you like to have intercourse with me Thrall; would you like to fuck me?”
“Yes Mistress.”
She slapped my face, not hard but she slapped me, “You’re a sassy boy aren’t you. You may get dressed now.”
When I went out the front door she followed. She was standing on the porch as I descended the steps.
“Good night Terry,” she said.
I turned back to her and smiled, “Good night Miss Lawrence.”
As I walked away I was engrossed in thought, maybe this was hell, perhaps she was a siren luring me but it was my personal hell and I’d be back, her fantastic spice still burned on my lips.
This website is for sale. If you're interested, contact us. Email ID: [email protected]. Starting price: $2,000