A Classified

"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"), worshiping 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." She carried all of my toys back to the bed, dumping them there.

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."

I tongued and licked her nipple to a cherry hardness as she tightened and buckled the collar. She connected the leash, too, then withdrew her breast from my mouth. Next, my ankles were shackled. Then came the cock and ball harness. Her exquisite hands handling my genitalia, even as she put them in bondage, was heaven. 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 gag. "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 stocking 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 lead 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, 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 wide, slave. You're about to shoot your load straight down and into your mouth. Cum. Now!" The thick, white fluid shot directly between my lips. 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 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. 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 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 miniskirt, 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 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 was 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 between my teeth 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 which 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 I either 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 eye bolts 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 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.