Gender: Female Age: 53 Location: A green and pleasant land
|Introduction: An unusual encounter at the library|
Here is my entry for the fifth writers' competition set by JayneyRedd. In contrast to my last competiton entry, this one is close to the wire and I hope all goes smoothly. It's a standalone story with the possibility of a sequel - enjoy!
Hazel sighed with relief to be out of the library, away from the reception desk where it was unbearably stuffy. The head librarian had turned the heat up again to keep the older clientele happy, and the concourse outside was pleasingly cool and fresh, air flowing from one end to the other as it led from the car park to the shopping centre. She got some strange glances from passers-by, sitting only in her skimpy black dress and high heels with her hair tied back, but she had to dress lightly otherwise she overheated. When she had cooled off, she got up and strolled across to the coffee stall nearby to get the order for herself and her co –workers, getting herself a sandwich for her lunch later on.
Returning to work, she took the drinks round to the rest of the staff and returned to the desk. The day had been slow so far – the library seemed to be getting less used with the growing use of the internet. When it was quiet, she scribbled in a notebook, jottings for her blog or thoughts that might one day go together into a book. At the same time, she had her eye on a particular section of the shelves that stretched away to the right, alert for anyone browsing there. That part was mostly quiet except for the odd giggling gaggle of teens or a solitary solemn grey haired man who lingered but never drew a book out.
Unusually, her vigilance was rewarded by the appearance of a young man who studied exactly the books that she kept special vigilance over. She pretended not to notice as he examined a slim volume or two, noticing that he also seemed nervous when others approached her desk. Eventually as lunchtime approached he walked up to the desk with three books. Before he even reached her, she knew what one of them was, and felt dizzy with triumph.
This was because Hazel was more commonly known by a select number of acquaintances as Mistress Hazel, and one good reason for working at the library was that she could keep an eye on the more specialised section of the books. The young man had been browsing the section where she knew certain volumes that would inform anyone who might be interested in Domination and submission. It had become rarer and rarer that anyone came to look here and recently she had wondered if it was worthwhile continuing monitoring the section, but here was a perfect example.
The young man was tall and slim, dark haired and carried himself with a slight stoop. He was obviously nervous but resolute, and she gave him a reassuring smile as she registered the books with his card. He said little, avoiding her gaze, but she was determined. As he took the books, she laid her hand on his so that he looked up, startled. She smiled and spoke softly but clearly.
“When you’ve done with these, I’m sure I can make more recommendations” She winked and pressed a printed card into his hand. He flushed a little but looked her in the eye, and it was a few seconds before he could tear his gaze from hers, briefly taking in her generous cleavage before shoving the books into a bag and turning to leave. He paused for a moment and glanced back before disappearing, a quizzical look on his face.
Mistress Hazel inwardly congratulated herself. She wasn’t one hundred per cent sure he was hooked yet, but that was the thrill of the chase. She looked at the information on the screen, mentally taking a note of name and address in case his curiosity needed some prompting. It was time for her lunch break and she called over one of the junior librarians to watch the desk while she walked out to the concourse again, this time to a nearby bench where she ate her sandwich slowly, watching people pass on their errands and speculating about their lives and purposes. She wondered if and when the young man would call her mobile number to find out more….
At the end of her working day, Mistress Hazel walked out to a side road where a car waited for her. It wasn't the type you might expect a low paid librarian to have – a sleek new car, roomy inside with leather upholstery and driven by a young man.
“Home, Mistress?” he asked as she sank back into the leather upholstery. She sighed and closed her eyes.
“Yes pet, I trust dinner will be ready promptly?”
“Of course, Mistress. Will you be needing me for long?”
“No pet, you can leave after you’ve drawn my bath.” she replied
“And tomorrow, Mistress?”
“Just the usual, pet.” She allowed a note of annoyance to colour her reply, and they remained silent for the rest of the journey. She was fond of her current pet, but she was ready for a new challenge. She pictured the young man from the library – Simon was his name – returning home and reading her card, printed simply with the title ‘Mistress Hazel’ with a website address and her mobile phone number. A smile played across her lips as she thought of him opening up the page that showed her disciplining her pets. Would he be horrified and close the webpage, or sit fascinated, maybe even become aroused? She had been sure to check his age from his library records – he certainly appeared to be at least in his late teens, and it was reassuring to know for sure that he was indeed in his early twenties.
At home, she changed out of her work clothes and ordered her pet to serve dinner dressed only in his leather briefs and collar, making him kneel at her side while she ate. She stroked his hair absently, and he sat still and silent. After a while she broke the silence.
“A young man drew out a very interesting volume today” She didn’t look directly at him, but was aware of his reaction; he straightened his back and turned his head toward her.
“May I speak, Mistress?” She nodded her assent. “Did you think he was…” he paused to consider his words “interesting enough to approach?” She smiled and took another forkful of pasta, chewing and swallowing before answering.
“I gave him my card – he should answer soon” Her pet shifted uncomfortably.
“Don’t I please you any more, Mistress? Do you really need anyone else?” She put down her fork and turned to face him, looking him in the eye, feeling a pang at his mournful expression.
“Pet, how long have you worn my collar?” He looked down at the floor.
“A year now Mistress”
“And do you remember my previous pet?” He nodded his reply “And he assisted in training you, and in turn you will do the same. Nothing is certain – perhaps he won’t suit, maybe I will keep both of you. That’s for me to decide. Now run along and draw my bath, and you can go home after you’ve cleaned up the kitchen.” She broke eye contact, turning back to her meal and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. He knew better than to push the subject, and left her to finish eating.
He was waiting in the bathroom when she went in, taking her clothes as she took them off and folding them neatly. He watched her lowering her naked body into the hot scented water with rapture, kneeling by the side of the bath ready to take her lustrous hair into his hands to lovingly wash it clean. There was an air of quiet content as he did so, a moment of domestic bliss that he looked forward to. Although he saw her most days, he usually returned to his own home at night. The thought of her taking another pet made him feel a little sick, and he wished she would ask him to stay for the night. He remembered the early days of his training; the anticipation of punishment and reward, of trying to work out what she might want so that he could please her.
“That will be all pet.” She murmured, laying back and closing her eyes blissfully. “Make sure the kitchen is spotless before you leave, or I will be forced to remind you what happens when you are sloppy” He felt a little thrill at her words, resolving to misbehave a little; how might she react if he left some washing up undone? Would she flog him, or order him to clean the floor with a toothbrush? He shivered as he remembered one time when she tied him to the spanking bench in the dungeon and flogged him till he begged her to stop, then rubbed soothing salve into his sore buttocks and allowed him to bring her to orgasm with his tongue.
It had been a while since he had misbehaved, he told himself as he dressed and tidied up, deliberately leaving the neatly stacked shelves untidy and neglected to empty the kitchen waste bin. He smiled to himself as he locked the door and left Mistress to her empty house waiting for a call from his new rival.
Meanwhile, Simon had spent the evening trying to get the woman from the library out of his head, with little success. He ignored the card, instead taking the books to his room after eating dinner with his flatmate, leafing through them avidly. He was indeed curious about Domination and submission, and had found older women more attractive, finding those his own age immature and flighty. It wasn’t long before his curiosity got the better of him and he reached for the white sliver in his pocket, turning it over. The phone number was too much – however, it wouldn’t hurt to look at the website, he thought to himself.
He typed the address into the browser, and paused before hitting enter. Of course the content was for over eighteens, and impatiently he navigated further. He instantly recognized the woman behind the desk – but her clothes were straight out of the videos and pictures he had searched for before. Tight corsets emphasised her figure, and stockings added allure, thigh high boots with stilettos made his eyes widen. It wasn’t so very much more than he had seen before – but the fact that he had stood inches from a real life flesh and blood Dominatrix made his scalp tingle and his heart beat faster, warmth growing in his groin.
He had her phone number! He felt dizzy; here was someone who could answer all his questions in person, help him explore his inner desires. He couldn’t believe that she worked so close to him and had spotted him taking out the books, had known of his interest. His head span and he clicked on, seeing her pose with all the paraphernalia of her fetish. Not only that, but she was pictured with men, disciplining them, rewarding them for enduring their punishment. It didn’t take much imagination to put himself in their place. But how could he bring himself to contact her? What if his friends found out about his fetish? It was hardly normal to want to be subjected to the treatment that she doled out in the photographs, let alone to be passive and submissive. His friends were always trying to push him into chatting up girls his own age, but his eye was taken by older, more confident women.
But what if he left this part of his psyche unexplored, let it fester and sicken? He would never know if it was truly what he wanted, or if it was a passing fancy. He had this opportunity and it seemed suddenly wasteful to let it go. He didn’t think he could talk to her, but there was an email address that he could use; he could send her his questions and see how she replied. He had nothing to lose – there would be no harm in it, surely?
He opened up his email account and dithered. He decided to send a short message rather than the long and rambling self-explanatory essay that was in his head, keep things simple. He found himself holding his breath as he typed, trying to make his question as concise and comprehensive as he could. Finally he sat looking at the text, letting the words burn into his retina as the cursor hovered over ‘send’
Mistress Hazel in the meantime had finished her bath, taking the soft warm towel that pet had left her and drying herself carefully before putting on her silky nightdress and robe. She logged onto her laptop in the lounge, checking her email before settling to write her blog with a glass of wine to hand. It was too early for a reply from her new target, and it was an hour or so before she finished writing. There was still some time before she planned to retire for the night, so she went through to the kitchen to check that pet had carried out his tasks properly, to put away the wine bottle and put the glass in the dishwasher. Her eyes widened as she realised that he had indeed been careless. She let her mind wander over the options of punishment as she corrected his mistakes and made a note of each one, and went back through to the lounge to check one more time for emails before she went to bed with her book.
She smiled widely as she saw that the bait had been taken, but didn’t open the message just yet. She took the laptop to her bedroom and left it while she made a final trip to the bathroom. She settled in bed and read Simon’s brief but concise question. It was a simple one but heartfelt, and she could see that he was earnest in his quest for answers.
“Your site interests me; how many others share that interest? My greatest fear is that I am one of a very few and abnormal.” She settled to type back.
“I can assure you that I have many admirers and followers, and belong to a community of people who share tastes that are felt to be deviant or abnormal by accepted society. Many more have deep desires that they hide and deny, so my thought is that to recognise these desires is enlightened and healthy. Few are fortunate to be able to explore these in reality, and some of these discover that fantasy is preferable. I am respectful of the needs and safety of my charges and would be pleased to help you to discover the true nature of your desires. Feel free to ask me anything, or tell me your experiences.” She sent the message and waited a while, returning to her book in the meantime. It wasn't long before a message arrived.
“I’ve felt for so long that I am alone and that my urges are something to be ashamed of. I’m so pleased to know that there are others. I don’t know where to go next or what to do – have you any suggestions?” Mistress Hazel replied quickly
“Before we go any further, we have to establish a position of trust. I believe from the timing of your enquiry that we may have met today – if this is so, please tell me where and describe what I was wearing. In turn I will give you details that should put your mind at rest that I am who I say I am.”
The exchange went on, the two making sure that they had met, and Mistress Hazel suggesting that he tell her a little about himself if he was comfortable. His experiences were not so unusual, and she reassured him that many others had gone through similar inner turmoil.
“I have a proposition for you. If you agree, over the next week I will give you certain tasks that will help to find out whether you are ready to go further. I want you to be honest not just with me, but with yourself. If you follow my directions, at best you will find the experience exciting and revealing, and at worst you will find that you are just curious and don’t need to do more. Will you commit to my instructing you for the next week?” Mistress Hazel felt a little surge of excitement – so far, so good. If he agreed to this, then he may be led further willingly; she waited impatiently for his reply.
“Yes Mistress - is that what I should call you? I’m not sure what you might want me to do, but I will do my best follow your instructions”
“Very good, yes you may call me Mistress. We can explore the sort of thing that arouses you, start simply. I undertake to attempt not to cause you any trouble with friends or workmates. You may stop at any time, and if there is something that makes you truly uncomfortable please let me know. I will let you sleep on your decision and expect an answer from you tomorrow morning. If I hear nothing, I will take it that you don’t want to go any further.” With that, she closed her laptop and turned off the light, settling to sleep soundly.
Simon did not rest so well, and lay for a while, pondering her offer. It excited him and he couldn’t help imagining himself serving her, so he threw back the covers to take matters in hand, quickly bringing himself to a satisfying climax before falling into a deep sleep punctuated by strange dreams. The moment his alarm clock went off he knew what his answer was, and sent his response. He didn’t expect a reply straight away but thought of it all through breakfast. It was only vain hope that made him check before he left, and his heart lurched to see a message sitting in his inbox. He had to open it before he left for work, and this is what he read.
“I’m pleased that you have decided to go ahead with our project. Let us set some ground rules. You will from now on refer to me as ‘Mistress’ or ‘Mistress Hazel’ whenever you address me – by email, in IM, on the phone or in person. You will obey my instructions to the best of your ability; however as we are just starting out you must let me know if any instructions are disturbing or difficult for you to carry out. I have to know your mind and your desires inside out in order to help you, so be honest.
I enclose my personal mobile phone number and will be contacting you as soon as you send me yours, and my IM identity also. Please tell me what the position is regarding receiving texts or calls during the day at work. I expect an answer within the hour” He sat and stared at it for a while before getting his mobile phone and saving her number as MH. He texted his work hours and told her that there was no problem receiving texts, but that personal calls were restricted to breaktimes. He set off for to catch the bus for work, hardly daring to take his hand off his phone for fear of missing her text. It came as he sat looking out of the window.
“There is nothing more to be done before you return home, when you will text me immediately. Reply to confirm.” His hand shaking, he let her know that he had received it, and continued his day, somehow able to focus better despite the suspense of what the evening might bring. The thought that he had started some sort of journey soothed him, and he was home almost before he knew it. He made himself a coffee and sat to text her
“I am home, Mistress”
“Good afternoon Simon. Please go to your computer; I have added you as a contact on my messenger service.” He did as he was told, feeling a little flutter in his abdomen as he saw her words pop up on the screen.
“Thankyou. Are you able to talk like this for half an hour or so?”
“Yes Mistress, as far as I’m aware.”
“Good. If you do need to stop please tell me. I have some questions for you.”
“Ask me anything Mistress”
“How often do you masturbate?” came the words on the screen, and he blushed to the roots of his hair. He swallowed and started typing.
“It varies, Mistress. Sometimes two or three times a day, sometimes not for a few days”
“Tell me when you did it last, where you were and what you were thinking about and looking at when you did so” He felt a little dizzy, but he knew he must be honest.
“Last night Mistress, after our emails. I was in bed in the dark thinking of you.”
“Give me as much detail as you can – what did you imagine me doing? Were you imagining being the
subject in one of the pictures on my website or was there something more specific?” Simon admitted that he had been thinking about one of the pictures, the male subject collared and cuffed, kneeling in front of her as she held a crop. He admitted that he loved the way she was dressed and imagined himself in a similar position waiting to discover whether he was to be punished or rewarded.
“Very good; that was nicely described, you have good communication skills. If you wish, I have another proposition. From now on, if you agree, you are not allowed to masturbate without my permission or instruction. If you feel you cannot endure it you may contact me and ask but if I do not answer, you must continue to abstain. I will give you until nine o’clock to make your decision – you are free to go for now.” Simon realised he had been holding his breath as he read, and let it go with a hiss.
“Yes Mistress, I will be back online at nine. I have no plans for the evening and eagerly await your pleasure.” He sat back as he saw her sign out, and went over the exchange in his mind. He was quite willing to carry on, but he would have to tell her that later. His flatmate appeared, just getting up to eat and go out on night shift at the emergency switchboard where he worked. Simon would have the flat to himself tonight. The few hours dragged until the allotted time, which he passed reading the books he had taken out from the library, and turned the computer back on to wait for her to sign in. She was there exactly on time, and he sent his message.
“Good evening Mistress. I am willing to undergo the training you described.”
“Excellent; I am pleased with your decision. I have something in mind for tonight. Tell me what your living arrangements are – do you live alone?”
“I rent a house with a male friend who I met at college. We both work; I work in an office from 9 to 5, but he works shifts. He’s out for the night and won’t be back until morning.”
“Good. I want you to strip naked and remain so until I tell you otherwise. If anyone comes to the door, do not answer it.” He shivered as he felt his arousal increase, stiffening in his jeans. He typed his acceptance and quickly did as he was told, sitting again.
“I want you to go to my website and open the gallery. Tell me, are you circumcised or uncut?”
“I’m uncut Mistress.” He answered.
“Excellent. I want you to look through the photos and you may not only touch yourself, but I want you to bring yourself to a climax. You may ask me any questions you wish while you do so – but remain respectful” He could hardly believe his eyes, and felt himself stiffen even more. He did as he was told, browsing the pictures while he stroked himself, his questions starting tentatively and growing bolder with his lust. He imagined Mistress Hazel sitting watching him as he gripped his shaft, applying lotion and starting to move his hand up and down, only a little slack left in his foreskin, the head engorged.
“Tell me what you are doing” she demanded, and he groaned at the interruption. He did as he was told. “Excellent. I want you to use your other hand and stroke the tip with your finger. Circle the head and tell me when you have any precum.” His eyes rolled back in his head as he followed her instructions, groaning with pleasure. He jumped as he realised he was wet, and quickly typed to her that he had done as she had told.
“Good. I want you to stop now” His eyes widened and he groaned in frustration, but did as he was told, by which time there was another line of text on the screen. “Rest assured you will be allowed to cum before midnight, but now I want you to type – both hands on the keyboard – and describe to me what you imagined yourself doing, and with whom, in as much detail as you can” He gritted his teeth – he had to do as he was told, she could tell if he disobeyed, and strangely he wanted to please her. He put his hands on the keyboard and began to type, recalling as much as he could of what had gone through his head. He had imagined her fastening him to a frame and teasing him, stroking and caressing, bringing him to the edge but not letting him cum – just as she was now, without even touching him.
“Are you still hard?” came the next question, and he came to with a start, looking down to realise he had forgotten his swollen member, now oozing more precum, not as hard as before, but erect still.
“Yes Mistress” Had she been in the room with him, she would have seen the surprise on his face.
“I think it’s time for a break - go and make yourself a drink, but first tell me - is your kitchen overlooked? Can anyone see in from the street or from another house?”
“The neighbours can see in, Mistress”
“Be sure to leave the light on and don’t close the curtains or blinds. You may not cover yourself with anything or touch your penis while you make your drink – you must have something hot and non-alcoholic. When you have it, report back and tell me what happened, if anything” Nervously he padded down to the kitchen – two young women lived next door and the kitchen faced theirs; he hoped to god they weren’t in or that Brian came home unexpectedly. He racked his brains – she said he couldn’t cover himself, but he could dart round the edge of the kitchen, moving quickly past the window. He looked down – his erection had gone down at the thought of discovery. Well that wasn't as bad as being caught in a state of arousal; he relaxed a little, and took his time.
Back at the computer, he told her that his trip had gone without incident.
“Good. You may drink, and while you do, you may look at my website again, and I will send you an email with more photos. When you have finished drinking, you can start to touch yourself again. Tell me if you are close to orgasm, and do not cum without permission.”
He sipped at his coffee and browsed. Again he stroked himself, gasping at the new pictures. It wasn't difficult to get hard again, and happily he grasped himself, hand moving faster this time. It was some five minutes or more before he remembered that he wasn't allowed to finish alone, and reluctantly sent his message to say that he was close.
“You may continue to climax – then report back” came the answer. He felt a strange release, that pushed him close to the edge, and his hand sped up until he couldn’t hold back any more, feeling himself erupt, gasping with the intensity as he spurted high into the air, the sticky cum falling on his chest, thighs and hand. It took him a while to come round enough to clean himself up, and was tempted not to go back to the computer – but he realised that this was a more intense orgasm than he usually had, and he wanted more!
“Thank you Mistress – I came.” was his brief post, and he waited for her reply, his pounding heart slowing to a more normal speed.
“Excellent – you have done well. I want you to go for a shower and return to the computer. I want you to cum again before you sleep, but only when I say so.” He was elated at her instruction, and had a huge grin on his face as he went to the bathroom. He thought of her and the pictures he had just seen all the time he soaped himself, soon growing hard again. Eagerly he returned to his PC and signed back in.
“You have done well so far, if you have followed my instructions. Tell me, what time do you usually go to bed to sleep, and how much longer do you expect to be alone?”
“It varies Mistress; I usually stay up till past midnight and I have work tomorrow. My flatmate won’t be back till mid-morning.”
Sitting by her laptop Mistress Hazel smiled, running her hand absently through her pet’s hair. He knelt at her side while she typed, hands bound behind his back with leather cuffs clipped together, his breath softly hissing though his nose and past the ballgag she knew he loved to wear. She had already disciplined him for his sloppiness in the kitchen, flogging him and making him clean the kitchen from top to bottom. From time to time during the evening she had told him what she was doing with her new recruit, and asked him simple yes or no questions so that he could nod or shake his head in answer. Even though she was focussed on someone else, he was in heaven just being allowed to sit by her, bound and gagged. To be consulted on how she instructed the other man was an honour, and mentally he took himself back to the early days of his own training and tried to remember how he had felt in order to assist his beloved Mistress.
“What do you think pet, shall I call him on his mobile phone this time, or should I save that for tomorrow?” She knew he couldn’t answer this properly, so added “Now?” and he shook his head “Wise choice, let’s string this next one out, and I’ll talk to him tomorrow. That should make him sit up and take notice.” She turned back to the keyboard, and he let out a soft moan as she took her hand from his head. “This time he can read something arousing, but I won’t allow him to touch until he’s finished – does that sound good?” He nodded happily and listened to her tapping away. “There – he’ll be busy for a little while. Time for Mistress to have some fun”
His heart leapt and he waited for her next command. She leant down and fastened the leash to his leather collar, tugging at it to signal he should rise, which he did smoothly as he had practiced so many times. He knew she didn’t like clumsiness or for the lead to go slack if she led him around. She led him to the bed, unfastening the cuffs and ordering him to take off his leather briefs and lie down spread-eagled face up on the bed. He shivered in anticipation as she moved round the bed fastening his ankles and wrists so that he was secure but comfortable. Neither of them was aroused by pain, so that was something she only used if he needed severe disciplining. She removed the gag and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips.
“Tell me pet, can you remember last time you were in this position?” she said as she coolly slipped out of her black French knickers that perfectly matched the corset she wore, unfastening her long black hair and letting it cascade over her shoulders. He nodded
“Yes Mistress – I remember.” He lay watching her, hoping she would allow him to continue, but she reached in the bedside table and produced the blindfold. She noted his expression change for a second to one of disappointment, then he regained control as she leant over to fasten it behind his head.
“Can you see anything?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“No Mistress” he said steadily. She could tell when he was lying, and was reassured that she had done her job well. She looked down at him, pale skinned and lightly muscled, visibly aroused in anticipation of her pleasure. She stroked his manhood, listening to the catch in his breath, feeling him grow harder under her fingers.
“You know the rules pet, no cumming until and unless I say so” He nodded and moaned as she stroked her hand over his belly, up over his chest and pausing to circle his nipples, gently pinching them. She climbed onto the bed, determined to slake her lust before she went back to the computer. “When did I last allow you to climax, pet?”
“A week ago Mistress” he answered.
“You haven’t cum without permission?” he shook his head. She took some lube from the bedside table, taking some in her palm to warm it before expertly spreading it along his shaft, firmly stroking and massaging. He moaned with pleasure, pulling against the restraints. He felt her straddling him and slowly engulfing his swollen member, biting his lip to keep back the animal groan that threatened to escape.
“Feel free to make as much noise as you like pet” she said, slowly rocking back and forth. The thought of the young man sitting reading the stories she had written of her experiences as a Domme excited her. She loved being in control, having someone at her beck and call, and the thrill of training a new recruit lifted her out of the routine she had been struggling to enliven. There was to be no teasing pet today, she didn’t have long before she had to go back to the computer.
She leaned down and let her hair brush pet’s chest and over his nipples as she started to ride him, feeling him filling her, pressing her pubic bone against his, shivering at the delicious tingle that coursed through her. She relished his groans, knowing that he could control himself enough to wait for her release. In her mind she undressed the young man from the library, placed the collar round his neck, saw him kneel and pledge to obey her. She shivered as she felt her climax approach, slowing to hold herself on the edge. It built deep down inside her, warm and urgent, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her, hips bucking, back arching and her muscles clenching round her pet’s shaft, drawing cries of bliss from his lips. She let the spasms die down, but kept moving, wanting to reward his obedience – his abstinence, his silent endurance of the earlier flogging.
“You may cum, pet” she gasped, and felt him start to thrust up toward her, trembling with the effort, the sinews on his arms and neck standing out as he pulled against his restraints. He gritted his teeth and she felt him start to pulse inside her. He let out a cry of triumph as he erupted, whole body going into strong muscular contractions, his hot semen flooding her and overflowing, jet after jet attesting to the length of time since his last ejaculation. She let her weight down onto him as he slowed, gasping and slumping back in his restraints. After a short while of recovery, she removed his blindfold.
“Thank you Mistress” he smiled, words of devotion and adoration bursting to flow from his lips.
“One more thing, pet” she said, letting his softening shaft slip from her and unfastening his wrists. She turned with her back to him, crouching over his chest “Clean up for me” she ordered, and eagerly he sat up a little as she unfastened his ankles. He repositioned himself to bring his mouth close to her petal-like labia, their combined juices still coating his softening member. His hands gently spread her cheeks as he licked her clean, thoroughly paying attention to every crease and fold. She tasted sweet while his own semen was slightly bitter, the two flavours combining on his tongue as he swallowed. She shifted to move away, and he sat back on his elbows, elated and happy. She went out to the bathroom, returning to see him cleaning himself off, and went back to the computer, drawing a gown around her, and saw that her new contact had not yet reported back.
“You may shower, pet, then go and get me some chamomile tea” she said, and he went to obey. She didn’t have long to wait.
“I have read the story, Mistress” came the words “It was very arousing, but I didn’t much like the pain aspect.”
“Good, then this is something that doesn’t appeal to you sexually?” she asked, and he answered to confirm. “In that case, you have my permission to relieve yourself before you go to bed, in any way you wish – by reading or looking at the photos, or away from the screen. Remember you may only do this once, and I want you to report back to me in the morning to tell me how you achieved it. I will be signing off now.”
Back in his bedroom, Simon licked his lips, at last permitted to touch himself again, his member already ragingly hard. He decided to shower again, switching off the computer and making his way to the bathroom. Images from the website and the descriptions in the story he had just read ran through his fevered mind as he soaped himself, his hand sliding easily over his belly, leaning his forehead on the cool tiles as he grasped his erect penis. His breathing became quick and hoarse as he started to stroke it, slowly at first, his foreskin almost tight from the ferocity of his hardness. He sped up, recalling Mistress’s outfit, her long black hair, a half memory of her scent and her decolletage at the desk of the library. He recalled the pictures of her tightly corseted figure, her stern expression and her hand firmly grasping a crop as she disciplined a disobedient male sub. Her stockinged thighs, her stiletto heels all raced through his mind as he felt himself start to twitch, his legs trembling as it started to rise from his testicles for a second time that night, sparser but hotter than before. The water streamed down over his shoulders and chin, down his arms and mingled with the thick white fluid that erupted from his loins. He growled with the effort and his legs buckled beneath him; he slid to the floor of the shower, gasping, heart thudding in his chest, but elated and triumphant.
It was a while before he managed to pull himself together, his strength returning enough for him to finish cleaning himself. He dried himself with a towel, rubbing his hair until it was only a little damp before returning to his room to collapse into bed, exhausted and happy, falling onto a deep sleep without even having the time to wonder what tomorrow might bring.
A few miles away in Mistress’s city house she also lay sleeping soundly, her pet allowed to share her bed for the night, happily curling around her, a smile lingering on his face as he too drifted off into blissful repose.
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