Gender: Male Age: 21 Location: N/A
|Introduction: I was a student at the University of Alabama in my junior year. I needed living quarters and I ran into an old lady who suggested I live with her. She would keep me for free and pay for my meals with her in exchange for some limited domestic services, such as cooking, cleaning, and “whatever other things might come up”. Without a second thought I moved in with this woman. Before I knew it my life was changed forever. She has a granddaughter named Melissa who to this day owns and possesses and dominates me. I am her property and she is my counselor and employer, my owner and commander, my queen and ruler, my dominatrix and beloved. I have been conquered and I am not my own any more.|
My name is Jacob Smith (but I go by Jake). I was a student at the University of Alabama in my junior year. I didn’t like my roommates and wanted to get a new living arrangement. The day before the grace period for housing cancellations expired, I ran into an old lady who suggested I live with her. She would keep me for free and pay for my meals with her in exchange for some limited domestic services, such as cooking, cleaning, and “whatever other things might come up”. I hastily canceled my existing rent agreement and moved in with this woman. My first week in her house was fairly routine. I moved in all my stuff with no issues. There were two closets in my room and a full-sized bed. The food supplies she had were fantastic and she taught me how to cook. She was very nice. Her name was Jennifer. One day, about a week into my time with her, she asked me to paint a room for her. She suggested I take my shirt off to do it. Afterwards she gave me a few more tasks to do, which I proceeded to do without my shirt. She gave me a ten dollar “tip” for having done such a great job and then asked me to do my chores without my shirt on from then on. She asked so cutely that I agreed. And that was the beginning of the end.
Within two weeks, she asked me to wear this cute little pair of shorts instead of my normal ones. They were tight as heck and had no pockets… I figured out later they were women’s shorts and were several sizes too small. I accepted her offer and from then on that’s what I wore whenever I did work for her. One day I forgot my chores and as a punishment, she suggested that I change into my work shorts as soon as I came home from school each day; that way I would be sure not to forget. I accepted her “suggestion”. One day she brought home an outfit for me to try… a French maid outfit. For kicks and giggles I put it on and started cleaning. She took a picture of me in it. I protested but she just grinned. At that moment I thought I might be in trouble.
The next day when I went to change she had replaced my work shorts with a tutu. No suggestions here… just an unspoken order. What did I do? I put it on! After I was cleaning for a while, she came in, delighted with me. She told me that it was ridiculous for me to be cleaning in a tutu with boy’s underwear. I said with a sarcastic grin “do you have any other suggestions? I am a boy after all”… to which she just grinned and motioned me to come over. She had laid out a set of panties for me to choose from. “Change”, she said. “Not with you here!”, I replied. She rolled her eyes and walked out. What did I do? I took off my tutu and underwear, put on a bright peach pair of panties, and put my tutu back on… when she took another picture of me. “Sorry, you just look so darn cute in that outfit!” she squealed. This was a sixty-five year-old woman!
I was furious, but she called me out. “Admit it, you’re enjoying this.” “Yeah but that doesn’t mean I want pictures taken of this!” She gave that look to me again. “Tell you what, Jake. I’ll delete this picture and the other one if you promise that when you come home from now on, you’ll change into a dress for me.” “And you won’t take any more pictures or let anybody else know about this?” “Of course not!” “Okay, that’s a deal.” And we shook on it.
When I got back from school the next day, a Thursday, Jennifer was gone but half my wardrobe (one of my closets) had been replaced with dresses, blouses, skirts, tutus, and that French maid outfit. My drawers were filled with panties, and I noticed a pile of boxers in my other closet. There was a safe in the hallway coming right in from outside and a note from Jennifer on my door. “Please place the clothes you’re wearing today and that you plan to wear tomorrow (including your shoes) in the safe and close it. I will be home by tomorrow morning to unlock it for you. Please remove the padlock inside the safe and use it to lock shut the closet with your old clothes. I hold the key, so don’t waste time trying to find it. I expect to find you cleaning the house in your French maid outfit when I return at 6:00.” I followed her instructions, feeling dread but excitement.
She returned quietly and snuck up behind me as I vacuumed the basement. She grabbed me from behind and whispered “you were a good boy, I have a surprise for you”. I went upstairs with her and She (I think I’ll use that capitalization from here on out) introduced me to a collar. It was shiny, red, and beautiful. It had a dog tag and everything. I put it on, fastening it without reading it and smiled at how delightfully it fit. She said, “Jake, this perfectly symbolizes our relationship. I’m in charge, and you follow my commands like my little bitch.” I opened my mouth to disagree and She slapped me. “Jake! I am wearing a shirt and pants. You are wearing women’s panties, a French maid outfit, and a collar that says ‘Jennifer’s Bitch’! What do you think you are? You’re my fucking little bitch, that’s what you are! Now get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich!”
What could I do? Jennifer was right and it was my responsibility to cook for Her. I nodded out of sarcasm and said “yes Ma’am.” She slapped me and said “How about “yes master” from here on out?” I looked at Her, and was about to tell Her where She could shove that “yes master”, but then I thought… deeply. She stepped back a bit while She let me think this over. I was in a French maid outfit with a collar on and it was clearly because She was in charge. I was… happy about this? I had an erection and I was hoping this whole thing would just slip right on by. I nodded again, and said without a hint of sarcasm “yes, Master.” She didn’t change Her expression at all. I went off slowly towards the kitchen and started making Her a sandwich.
When I returned with it, Jennifer was sitting on the couch. She was not very pretty, given that She was old enough to be my grandmother. She motioned me over and then stopped me when I was about three feet away from Her. “Kneel”, She commanded. I had no choice, really. I knelt. “Hand me the sandwich”, She commanded again. I did so. “Crawl over her and stay on your hands and knees. I mean to use you as a table.” Humiliated, I crawled over… and She kicked me in the face with the boots She was wearing. “I didn’t hear a ‘Yes, master’ in there!” “Yes, Master” I muttered. “ ‘Yes, master what?’ ” She was not amused. “Yes, Master, I would love to crawl over towards you and be your table for you.” “And why would that be?” She asked with a deceptive tone of honey in her voice. “Because I’m Your bitch.” Her praise flowed out. “Very good, my little slave. You are my bitch and I am in charge of you.” “Yes you are, Mistress” I said as I crawled in front of her, my dress squeaking under me. She didn’t respond but simply placed the plate on my back. Some few minutes later She lifted it and replaced it with a small, light object. I heard a “click” and I was hooked. “Slave?” “Yes, Mistress?” “That is a dog leash to go with your collar. From now on for all of your days here, you will be forced to put on your leash the moment you return from school till the moment you leave here. If I don’t desire it at the moment you can simply clip it onto the back of your collar. I expect you to wear that collar at all times, here or at school.” “Yes, Master” I replied, more out of shock than anything. She clipped on my leash and sent me on my way to finish the chores.
When I had completed them, I went to do homework in my room. She had taped a white, frilly bra to the bedroom door with a note ordering me to put it on under my outfit, and I hurriedly did so. She summoned me shortly afterwards to Her bedroom. I ran up, heart racing. It wasn’t just externally that She had begun to take control. Certainly, the outward signs were there—I was responding to Her beck and call, I was calling Her my Master, and lest we forget I, a red-blooded, totally straight, conservative American man, was all dressed in frills and lace, with a collar on top of it all proclaiming my submission and humiliation for all the world to see. But it was the mental domination that was really taking place. I would, at that moment, have died for that Woman, though I didn’t realize it yet. The feelings I fought with on my way up were anxiety, yes, but most of all a sense of giddiness. Above all else, I had total faith that She would take care of me and ensure that our relationship would be the best one possible between a landlady and a boy. I reached Her room and opened the door to see Her standing there.
I suppose I haven’t really described Her very well yet. She is 5’3, a full eight inches shorter than me. She has gray hair with just a hint of its former brown. Her eyes are fiery and Her smile is the sort that most men would kill to see. I was struck as I entered the room by how unimpressive She seemed. If She was controlling me, it sure wasn’t through Her sheer beauty or charm. She emphasized that with a harsh command. “Bend over and touch your toes”, She asked. “Yes, Master”, I responded. She regarded my tail end diligently as I maintained the position. “We will be proceeding shortly with your two main jobs as a slave. The first one is quite simple. Hand me your leash.” “Yes, Master.” I responded as I stayed bent over, reaching out my leash to Her. She took it and quickly led me to Her king-sized bed. “Spread out, face down” She commanded. “Yes, Master.” She sat in front of me and gently removed Her pants and underwear (boxers, I noticed). “Come here are lick me until I come in your pretty little face, bitch.” “Yes, Master” I responded, and crawled forward. Once I stuck my tongue into Her, I heard the leash lock. There was now no way out except to break the cord of the leash (which, I must admit, I had already tried to do and failed miserably) or wait until my Owner released me, which She was in no mood to do. She passively sat there as I tried to make something happen, but I wasn’t very good at it and She was not getting excited. I thought I noticed a flash of light a couple times, but I assumed I had imagined it and even if I hadn’t there was nothing I could do. After about a half hour (I wasn’t keeping track but She was and told me later), mercifully She began to get wet and start grinding into my face. She came about ten minutes later. She left me there with a stern command: “Don’t you dare move a muscle.” I froze, the taste of Her juice still on my lips. “Hands and knees, and hike up your dress,” Jennifer ordered. I felt a wave of dread as I obeyed Her mandate. “Pull down your panties”, She demanded. I complied, feeling incredibly scared. She walked in front of me and tied my leash around the headboards of the bed so I couldn’t run away but would have plenty of room to move around. “Jake, earlier today I noticed you called me your Mistress. Now why would you say something like that?” “Umm…” I didn’t know how to reply… “because that’s… well… You’re a woman, aren’t You? Isn’t that what people are supposed to call women masters?” “Jake, to the world, I am a woman. But you are my little bitch, a dog, a slave, a tool, a slut for dressing up like a girl. I am your MASTER, for two reasons. A dog knows neither man nor woman, only his master. You are my little puppy dog, and I am simply your master. But the other reason is much sweeter,” She added as She reached underneath my ass and tied a little blue ribbon around my exposed penis. “I am wearing a shirt, no bra, boxers, and jean pants. You, my sweet little puppy, are wearing a bra, panties, and a fucking French maid outfit. Now, who dressed you? Was it me? Or did I just tell you what to do and you did it your fucking self?” “I did what you told me to, Master”. “Exactly. A mistress is someone you respect, someone you fuck, but a master is someone you obey. Now you get what I’m talking about. Here’s the real deal. I’m the man right now in this relationship; you are my woman, as far as status is concerned. I know, you biologically have a penis—which I have just claimed with my ribbon—but metaphorically I have the penis… and as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, I’m lubing up a pretty good replica for you to try out for size. I of course have a vagina, you just had a very personal encounter with it of course, but… how to say this… I have a cunt, you ARE a cunt!” “I’m Your cunt, Master.” “Ha, so you are. Anyway, enough talking.” She slapped my ass and grinned. “Grab the headboard with one hand and jack off with the other, I’m not stopping the rape till I see your come, bitch. You’re going to learn to like getting fucked and used. You’re my slave, remember?” “Yes, Master”. She grinned and flicked on the lights. “Oh yeah, and one more thing”, She added as my eyes followed Her towards Her place behind me. “Face forward, dearie, and smile for the camera.” “What--?” I started to say, as She plunged into me. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”
Inward and outward, out and in, the blood spilling out of my crack, Her laughter, my tears, and all the while I was trying to jack off as quickly as possible. “What’s your name, slave?” “My name is Jacob Smith!” “And what are you?” “I’m Jennifer’s bitch!” “Scream it at the top of your lungs, baby!” “I’M JENNIFER’S SISSY LITTLE BITCH!!!!!” I screamed as I came. “YEAH BABY YEAH!” She screamed as She dug into me one last time, then removed it slowly. She walked over to me and offered Her strap-on. “Suck it clean, bitch, and thank me for the opportunity.” “Thank you very much, Master, for letting me lick your strap-on” I said as I took it into my mouth. The disgusting flavor didn’t even phase me after the events of the day, though I cringed at the sight of the blood from my own cherry.
She took me up from Her bed after She had fucked me and brought me downstairs. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, she grabbed me and hurled me down to the floor. I laid flat on my back. She quickly and roughly stripped me of the little clothing I was still wearing and whipped out four pairs of handcuffs and chained me to the furniture. “Sweet dreams, bitch. When you wake up we’ll have a full discussion of what just happened. Until then, sleep tight and know that you are owned.”
It was seven o’clock in the morning when She woke me. I had a class at ten thirty but it was the last thing on my mind. She kissed my forehead and spoke to me. “Jake, let me get this straight with you. You may have had some thoughts over what happened yesterday, so I want you to have a good idea where this is headed.” I just nodded. My chains had me spread out all along the floor and I was sore in several places, most of all my wounded, vanquished ass. I was naked and cold all over and missing the French Maid outfit I had been fucked in so brutally the night before. “First off I want to tell you what this all means. Look at me.” I turned my gaze towards my Master’s. “I own you, Jake. Say that.” “You own me, Master.” I responded without a hint of doubt. “Say it, bitch: say ‘Jennifer owns me’.” With a slightly less confident voice, I replied, “…Jennifer owns me.” She noticed my slight hesitation upon putting in Her actual name and slashed me across the face with Her nails, screaming, “SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT, BITCH!!” “JENNIFER OWNS ME!!” I shouted out to the world. “JENNIFER OWNS ME!” She calmed down in a heartbeat. I knew that temper of Hers would trouble me for a long, long time.
My beloved Master then looked at me deeply, almost tearing up. “Jake, I know this isn’t what you want to hear. Listen anyway.” With bated breath I waited for Her disclosure as my erection returned. “I do not love you, Jacob, and I never will. I expect your full love and devotion and affection and service but I will never love you and never will have to. You belong to me, period. I am your world now, but don’t think that means you matter to me. I do not love you Jake. In fact, until you learn how to eat a pussy better, I will never think of you as good for anything but being my live-in servant. I don’t mind taking you from behind but I’m sure not getting anything out of it. What else can you do for me? I am too old for a husband, and you’re not the kind of man I would marry anyway. You sure can’t help me with money, and you haven’t got any friends to share with me, at least not the way I want them! Let me put this to you plainly: your life will revolve around me forever, and I will never think of you as anything at all besides the reason my kitchen is clean unless you improve your pussy-eating skills and give me the best orgasms of my life, my long and illustrious life. You are so far beneath me, Jake, I will never care for you beyond that. Regardless of that, I will never love you at all even if you give me the wettest, hottest sex of my life. You just will never amount to anything, Jacob, so this is your best chance ever… being a live-in slave for life, held back not by lock or key but by the simple fact that you know deep down that you are my bitch, and dressing and acting the part day in and day out for the rest of your life.” She turned around and walked back into the living room downstairs, leaving me to ache in pain. I fell asleep again eventually… needless to say, I missed my class that day.
She came for me at noon that day and released me from my chains. Without so much as a word She dragged me by my hair over to the couch, then sat down, forcing my face into Her bush again. Without a sound I began to lick, bringing myself as I went down on Her to the sad conclusion that this was to be my life forever. I was Her pathetic little bitch and there was no getting around it. My tears mixed in with Her juice as She came victoriously all over my face. Actually, that was the saddest part for me. It wasn’t really victorious for Her, because I was not worth exerting effort to conquer… yet conquered I was. After She came down from Her mighty orgasm, She got up and snapped Her fingers. I scampered behind Her like a puppy. She led me to the bathroom upstairs. “Jake, I have three surprises for you today, three glorious and enchanting surprises. Here’s your first glimpse at what you’ll spend your days as for the rest of your life.” She tied a gag around my mouth and took out a razor and some shaving cream. “Don’t move a muscle”, She commanded. She lathered up my crotch and removed every shred of hair from it. “Aren’t you a good little bitch, dear?” She taunted me. I tried to respond but couldn’t through the gag, so I just nodded, tears peeking out from my eyes. She motioned me to follow Her after She had finished and washed me off. I entered Her bedroom and noticed Her strap-on sitting in a prominent location. “Stand right behind the foot of the bed and bend over it,” She ordered. I nervously bent over. I felt the cold, slippery feel of lube slipping up my ass. “This is for the better, believe me dearie.” Her words did little to comfort me, but far worse was the slam from behind as I was taken again. “How’s this treating you, bitch?” She yelled at me. I would have responded but was held dreadfully silent by the gag which She had not bothered to remove. “Nothing to say, bitch?” She called out. “Well then, don’t you dare say anything in my presence for the next week!”, She mocked.
After what must have been ten or twenty minutes of anal rape, She removed Herself from me. She placed a pretty, off-white sundress and a jet black bra on the bed. “Wear this as you perform your duties today. No underwear for you this weekend,” She said matter-of-factly. I put on the clothing but shuddered at how obvious (and foolish) the bra looked underneath the nearly see-through dress. As the final coup de grace, She ordered me to take a shower while wearing the clothing before starting my task, turning my dress into little more than a see-through shrink-wrap. Upon completely finishing all my chores that day, She bent me over again and drilled me up the ass with a different strap-on, this one much smaller (fortunately). She alternated the two over that weekend, and I didn’t have a moment’s rest over that time. Other than meals, I was forced to wear the gag all weekend, and during meals speech was forbidden. I also must have eaten Her out five or six more times that weekend alone. Finally, Monday morning I awoke in my own bed, and noticed a note on the inside of my door.
“Jake”, the note read, “dearest Jake, I have taken the liberty of setting your alarm for you. I still fully expect you to keep up with your classes. Please dress yourself in normal masculine attire, but you must wear a pair of panties (you may wear them under your boxers if you wish). I expect you to strip fully and enter my room upon your return from your classes this afternoon.” I dressed and wandered aimlessly through my classes that terrible day, thinking of doing what I hated (yet was coming to… enjoy?) later that afternoon. I returned and stripped immediately. I ran up to Her room and entered. She was lying on the bed, wearing a sweatshirt and socks and nothing else. It bears repeating that She was no bombshell. The years had not been unkind to Her, but they surely had happened. She motioned towards Her pussy and I scampered onto the bed and licked Her with all I could muster. She came, then twice, then three times, then four. It took over an hour, but I got Her to come five glorious times all over my face. She then shoved me away by my hair, and said, “You’re good at that now, getting better. It’s time I took control of you completely. Stick your dick in my pussy, now”, She whispered sultrily. “But”, She spoke up suddenly, “upon putting it inside me, you admit you are my property and I own you completely. You’re already my bitch, Jake, and we already knew this was coming. Give me that last part of you… and now I become your world. You are my… slave… so follow my command and fuck me.” She stared me down and I looked away. “Do it now and say as you do how I now officially own you forever.” I looked at Her, dick standing at full mast, and said, “Yes, Master, you officially own me, forever.” She gave a grin of complete success. “Stick it in, Jake, and scream it to the world! I own you! I control you! I dominate you!” I grabbed Her shoulders and jammed my penis into Her, submitting my virgin penis to the vagina that owned me. “Yes Master! You own me! You own me! I’m Yours! You own me!” I screamed as I slammed into her over and over again. As I came into Her, I screamed at the top of my lungs for the world to know, “I’m Jennifer’s bitch!”
After I came into Her, She gently pushed me out. “Wash yourself clean”, She asked. I hopped in Her shower and cleaned myself off. “Come sit on the bed” She ordered as I was drying myself. I sat down, curious. She came up to me and, much to my surprise, latched a chastity belt onto me! “This is for you for whenever I need to save you for later. You will wear it whenever I say to.” I looked at it in horror. “Oh, it’s not the end of the world. I think you look kinda cute naked, and you would never fit your panties over this, so it’s not going to be permanent at all. I just want you to know how bad you’ve got it coming to you… and how little you’re going to be coming!” She laughed. I felt sick. Partly because the pun was so bad, but mostly due to my sad situation. Still, the fact that She was so happy made my heart jump a little. I started to say something when She cut me off. “No more words for you, remember. Fuck off and do your chores. Like that.” I ran off and started working. By the time I finished my chores and homework, She had summoned me to Her room. I spent three hours with my head tucked firmly between Her thighs, giving her pleasure, and She laughed whenever She heard a moan of pain from me as my belt inhibited my erections. After She re-tied my gag on, She finished me off for the night with a good ass-rape from behind, and introduced me to Her whip as She did so. “This is for speaking during our sex earlier… even though I told you to do so!” She scowled at me. CRACK! CRACK! went the whip and I bucked in pain as much as I could with Her still pumping into me and holding my chained dick with her left hand for balance. She let go of me and started fingering Herself at some point, still whipping away, and eventually came for Her tenth orgasm of the day. With one last crack of the whip, She pulled out of me, and ordered me to come into Her room the next day and bury my head into Her vagina to convince her to let me go to school without the chastity belt. With a laugh and a slap on the ass, She sent me off to bed covered in tears. Still, bright and early the next morning found me buried in Her bush, eating her out for a solid hour in hopes that She might release me (which She did, and would continue to regularly do as per Her word for the next several months—I was only locked up during oral and strap-on sex, as well as at night). Her domination of me would continue over the next several weeks, with new and improved humiliations. Still, She kept Her long-ago promise to me that no one else would know about our relationship.
One day after school, I was doing my chores in nothing but my lingerie (white bra, pink panties) and my hands cuffed behind my back (it’s amazing how well you can dust holding the featherduster in your mouth), and I heard Jennifer come down the stairs. Without a word She grabbed my leash and dragged me upstairs, where She threw me to my hands and knees (which, with my hands tied behind my back, turned into more of a prostrate position). She barked out, “Kiss my feet” and of course I complied, saying “Yes, Master” as per my custom. She then, surprisingly gently, raised me to my feet. “Bow your head”, She ordered. I did as I was told. She took my leash and clipped it to my collar. She then spun me around and gently said, “Lift up your head.” What did I see in front of me but her granddaughter, Melissa! I recognized her from pictures Jennifer had shown me. I about died of embarrassment! Jennifer simply said, “I’d like you to meet Melissa. Melissa, this is Jacob, my slave.” What was there to say? She reached out her hand, and I, not knowing what else to do, curtseyed and kissed it. She pulled it back and smiled and maybe even giggled a little. She was wearing a cute polo shirt and a relatively short skirt. “You’re sure he’s a boy, Gran?” I could have killed her. “Oh yes, he’s a man, but not much of a macho type around here. I have him dominated and controlled pretty well.” I was shattered. “Kiss my feet, Jacob”, Melissa sweetly but firmly told me. I fell on my knees hoping to avoid punishment and kissed them both. “Come with me, Jacob.” I followed her. “Slave?” Jennifer called out from behind me. “Yes, Master?” “She is in charge of you. Do whatever she wants.” “Yes, Master.” I followed Melissa to my own bedroom. “Oh dear, sweet little Jacob, you have no idea what I plan to do to you!” she squealed as she shut the door behind us. “Rest assured, I will make you my own no matter how long it takes. Time to get you out of those panties!”
“Let me take care of that”, she cooed as she unhooked my bra and slid my panties down my legs. I was still handcuffed behind my back but that didn’t look to change anytime soon. “Come on over her, allow me to entreat you, dear.” I was still furious at my Master, but submitting to Melissa was submitting to Her, so I consented to her guidance. She sat down on my bed and slipped off her panties, spread her legs, rolled up her skirt and beckoned me towards herself. I knew what was required and went down on her, not particularly enjoying it. I licked for only a couple of minutes before she stopped me. She pushed me aside. “Wait, wait for me” she said. She laid my naked body flat on the bed, laying on my back (and, quite painfully, on my hands as well). She jerked my penis a few times to make sure it was hard enough, and then straddled me and started doing the cowgirl to me. I was helpless against her advances and came within a few minutes of her attack. That didn’t satisfy her, and she kept coming after me until she climaxed too. She pulled herself off of my cock and sat down right on top of my face. “Lick me clean and see if you can’t make me come again,” she asked. It was one of the most disgusting tastes of my life. Even my Master had never forced me to eat Her out after I had come inside of Her. I tried to give Melissa an orgasm while I licked her clean but utterly failed. I couldn’t summon up any desire to give my all for her. She finally sat up, dug her fingernails into my penis and walked off, leaving me there to deal with both the sudden pain to my crotch and the handcuffs that were trapping my hands behind my back… still. I couldn’t figure out what to do, exactly, so I wandered on out of the room and went downstairs to where I could hear my Master and her granddaughter talking.
I knew I was in trouble when I heard the deathly somber tone of their voices. Jennifer motioned to me as She saw me enter the kitchen where She and her grandchild were sitting. I sat down as indicated. Jennifer did not waste any time. “Jake, I am sure you are aware that you are my property for life, are you not?” “Yes, Master”, I answered with my head bowed, giving my stock response, “I am Your property for life.” She continued, “You may not have realized it, but Melissa here is the heir to my property. When I pass into the afterlife, she will inherit everything… including you. Look closely, for you will pass on to her after I am gone—though not a moment before!” She added with a sharp look at Melissa. That look killed me. She was sentencing me to slavery till the day I died and Her only concern was that Melissa not usurp Her position too early? Really? Did I matter that little to Her already? “Given your status as her eventual property, isn’t it true that you should obey her completely?” “Yes, Master.” “Answer me this,” She barked. “Did you or did you not violate a direct order to make her come all over your face?” I paused, but then decided that arguing over whether or not it was a “direct order” was probably not worth it. “I did, Master.” Her face showed nothing but anger now. She arose stormed off to the garage, and returned bearing a shovel. Not a whip, or a wooden spoon, but a full-fledged shovel to beat me with. I was going to be lucky to still be alive at the end of this. “Disobedience must always be punished, bitch!” SMASH! Her first shot hit me right at the stomach and knocked my chair over with me still on it. I crashed and hit the ground painfully since I couldn’t break my fall with those handcuffed hands. She picked up the shovel and walked over to me, fury still showing all over her face and body. I started to cry and whimper and saw with dread the shovel rising up again as my Master prepared a second hit, this one appearing to head for my face. “Stop!” Melissa cried in my defense. “Don’t hurt him any more!” Jennifer stopped, turned and barked, “Do you have a better idea to punish the worm?” Melissa just looked nervous, and as her Grandmother turned towards me again, suddenly said, “Yes, yes I do have a plan!” Without another word spoken within my earshot, the two of them walked off as I lay there on the kitchen floor trying to remember what on earth I was doing to myself.
Oh, I was still meant to be punished. Oh dear, I was indeed. My private punishments were over. From now on my embarrassments were to be made much more public. Certainly, it would only be in front of those whom my Master trusted… but in a town the size of Tuscaloosa—80,000 or so—there would only be so many “trusted” friends before Jennifer would find someone, whether by accident or on purpose, that would know me from the university or somehow through some other way. Fortunately, I was from Ohio, so my own family wasn’t going to find out. Hopefully.
The punishment Melissa thought up for me was simple. Jennifer would treat her friends to a tea party, and I would serve them. Naked. What’s more, I would be at their utter mercy. “One exception”, my Master reminded me multiple times. “I control your cock, and nobody—not even Melissa—is allowed to use it.” (I didn’t know if I should tell Her or not that Melissa and I had already had “normal” sex… but given my Master’s temper I opted for discretion.) Still, due to some scheduling conflicts Jennifer would not be hosting the party for over a month, in the middle of November. As seminal a moment as that party was, I suppose I should still stop this narrative for a moment to mention a few things about what my life looked like at that point.
Melissa was not a part of my daily life at that time, since she was still in high school and heavily involved with after school activities (activities, having a life… I was forgetting what that was like). Still, she occasionally would stop by and I would enjoy our time together. She was wonderfully attractive, in sharp and glorious contrast to her Grandmother. We would screw like rabbits, and I would gleefully lick her clean afterwards, by now the sour taste of my own cum barely registering compared to my bliss at seeing her cute 18-year-old pussy up close and personal again. Still, her control over me was strict inside the bedroom and outside of it we had no friendship at all. The few times the three of us went out to dinner as a group, I was basically ignored and mistreated. I sometimes felt like she was just acting that way to get Jennifer’s approval. The tension between the two of them was hard to read. I couldn’t always get a hold of her feelings towards me or towards her Grandmother. She was always respectful to Her but never submissive. I wondered about her mother, Gina, who was Jennifer’s daughter but was never brought up in family conversations. I wondered also about the men in their family. Brad, my Master’s late husband, died in the war—I wondered what he had been forced to endure back home. James, their only son, lived in New Hampshire selling cars. Melissa’s father Rick was dead, that much I knew, but the way they said “dead” made me wonder if he was still alive, maybe only dead to the outside world and being held captive even more harshly than I. Her brother Dan was fourteen and I had heard little to nothing about him. With all I had to do from day to day, I had little time to ask personal questions of my Owner.
In a normal day, I would get up an hour before She expected me, and immediately get to work on my course work. At 8:00 every morning, She demanded a sort of breakfast in bed… only I was the one who was getting fed, if you know what I mean. I would enter Her room wearing nothing but my collar, my chastity belt, and typically a lacy white bra, though the fabric varied. That was all that I was permitted to sleep in or wear in between Her last orgasm of the night and Her first of the morning. I would slip into Her bedroom unnoticed, and begin to plant kisses up and down Her thighs. She always wore a long pale green negligee to bed, and despised wearing underwear when She slept. I was fine with that; it made my job much easier. After beginning to sense movement in Her body, I would begin to gently tease at Her outer lips, trying to coax Her little jewel out. I would then, especially if She didn’t seem to be fully awake yet, abandon caution and start licking and sucking more intensely. Usually, I got to taste my first bittersweet “reward” without hearing a single word from Her. If that was the case, I was obliged to continue to eat Her out and seek a more intense orgasm, one that would make Her moan out loud. If She was still not satisfied, She would refuse to release Her slave to his duties. I would then, in some real shame, begin to lick and suck on Her toes and feet, and finally beg for forgiveness for failing to excite Her. When She was finally satisfied, She would speak softly, “Come and be released for your day, slave.” I would crawl forward and straddle Her stomach. She would smile at me. That was always Her cue for me to begin begging her verbally for release. “Please, Master, if I may, I would like to continue to serve you by going to class today. Please release me from this bond so that I may do Your bidding at school.” She would then take the key to my lock from Her necklace and release my collar and chastity belt. I would then get on the floor next to her bed on my hands and knees. She would undo my bra straps with Her toes (She was quite the expert when it came to humiliating me with Her feet) and then use my naked back as a stepping stone to exit Her bed, saying as She stepped off of me, “You are permitted to leave.” “Thank you, kind Master” I would always reply. She would usually shower immediately after that, forcing me to go without. I would use soap and water in a marginally successful effort to clean my face off before I ran to get “male” clothing on. I didn’t typically wear panties of any sort underneath my clothes, nor a bra, and I genuinely enjoyed my time at school. I didn’t get much opportunity to hang out with friends, as I had to do almost all of my homework at the library in between classes. It was a rare luxury to have time to masturbate in a bathroom on campus, so I typically didn’t get to have any orgasms except for those Jennifer forced me to have while She was with me. When I returned home, I immediately dropped my clothes into a safe which I did not know the combination for, latched on my collar and put on whatever clothing my Master had decided I was to wear for that day (which she let me know by hanging it out in the hallway, in full sight of anyone who would enter the house throughout the morning.
I should mention that at the time, Her habit of doing that was ridiculously embarrassing to me (I feared the off chance that She might have company and explain to them the purpose of the clothing). When I foolishly told that to Her one evening while we were having dinner, She laughed and reminded me of my impending date with humiliation at the party. “Trust me, dear, you don’t even know what being embarrassed looks like,” She advised. Her consolation was not particularly soothing. After that day, She occasionally hung up my chastity belt in addition to the clothing, forcing me to wear it, too—not only wear it, but put that dumb thing on myself! The week before the party, I wore the belt 24 hours a day, only getting released for Her and I to have the usual sort of sex (I’ve always hated the word “coital”). Jennifer was a brilliant Master and Owner; she knew that I needed sex to show myself that I was a man still. We often would have it in some way that somehow humiliated me (such as the time She enlisted Melissa into seating her ass onto my face while Jennifer did me cowgirl style), but often She would just take Her clothes off, ask me to take off mine, lay on the bed, and order me to come at Her however I wanted. The only barrier was between my penis and Her ass and mouth; I was never allowed the privilege of entering those sacred domains with my member. The sex was still very good though…
Anyway, during my daily routine, upon getting dressed I would begin my chores for the evening. Dusting, vacuuming, washing windows, mowing the lawn, cleaning the bathrooms and kitchen, laundry, making Her bed, preparing Her dinner (usually I would eat something different, though typically not anything like dog food; it was more like Mac & Cheese for me while she got to savor filet mignon), and anything else She required. She would let me wear one of Her t-shirts and my old work shorts over my lingerie while I was working outside, but that was the extent of her mercy on the chores. Any work left undone by the time She demanded would be fully paid to me in the worst way: with the whip She adored and named “The Killer”. Five lashes and the marks would remain clear for a full day. Fifteen and people outside would hear my screams. (We knew because Jennifer kept Melissa waiting outside one day while she was finishing my punishment.) Jennifer would demand things from me constantly during the evening; suffice it to say that Her bush was kept fastidiously well-watered by Her own juices during my time with Her. Her mandate was that I could sleep two hours for each orgasm I provided her throughout the day, up to a full eight-hour night of rest. If I ever did not get her four orgasms a day, I would spend the lost two hours (or, in the worst case I ever had to deal with, four hours) getting raped and taken from behind by Her strap-on. I had a strictly enforced lights-out policy of 10:00, which would give me only seven hours since I had to get homework done. Oh well, the price of being a slave.
(to be continued)
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