A Classified

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 breasts entirely clean.

Mistress Stacy joined me on the bed, released me from my 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 good-bye. Lick my shoes, kiss my ass and stay on your knees until I'm in the corridor."

I worshiped 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. 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 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 which 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 which 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 bra, panties, garter belt and stockings. Diana's first participating session was arranged after some tutoring on the hows and whys 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, 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 teenager 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 choosing 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, 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?"

"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. 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 who 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 ProDomme 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, 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 amateur 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 longtime 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?"