A boy goes to meet his first mistress for the first time.
He pulled up to the house and parked. Getting off his motorbike he walked to the front door, which opened as he strode up the steps. The maid looked him up and down.
‘You must be Carl,’ she said and he nodded, ‘come in, wipe your feet, and follow me.’
He did as instructed and followed the maid down the oak-planked corridor. Coming to a door she turned and knocked before opening the door and gesturing for him to enter. He did so and glanced around. It was a study he realised and there was a woman sitting behind the large desk to his left. Ahead of him the wall was mostly made up of windows looking out on a beautiful garden. On the wall to his right were bookcases, all of them full.
He looked at the woman who gestured for him to sit on one of the two plush leather chairs in front of the desk. He did so and waited as she lent back in her chair and tapped her fingertips together in front of her.
‘As you know I don’t normally take male slaves, but you interest me,’ she said softly.
He remained silent, unsure of what to say. His advert had been placed on an Internet site he had found and had read as follows, ‘Straight teenage male seeks mistress to teach him to pleasure and to bring him pleasure and pain.’ A couple of days after placing it he had received an email from Mistress Teresa, which had stated that she had read his advert and was interested. It commanded him to reply to the email with 36 hours of receiving it with details about himself: age, height, how many girlfriends he’d had, whether he was still a virgin, and other such information. He had replied truthfully except for about his age, which had said was 18 when he was in fact only 17.
Since then he had been in contact with her, exchanging information about what sort of things he felt he would like done to him, what his fantasies where, and everything about his sex life so far, which included him confessing to being a virgin.
‘How old are you.’
The question was completely unexpected and he started guiltily.
‘How old are you,’ she asked again.
‘Um, I’m 17,’ he confessed.
‘I thought as much. You will be punished for lying to me, Carl, severely punished.’
She picked up a little bell from her desk and rang it, ‘Now them Carl, I want you to understand something. Every single woman in this house is your superior. You will do whatever one of them tells you to do no matter what it is, provided that it does not go against any of the rules that we have made or violate an order from a higher-ranking member of my staff of course. Now go with Emily here. As well as being my maid she’s my head slave. I’ll see you later to get you started on your training. Emily, you know what to do.’
‘Yes, Mistress,’ she turned to Carl, ‘come with me, slave.’
As they walked down the corridor he noticed how her ass swayed as she walked and the tiny little black maid’s skirt barely covered it, giving him a wonderful view. Glancing over her shoulder Emily saw where he was looking and stopped. She turned around and before he knew what was happening she had slapped him hard across the face. ‘You will keep your eyes forward unless given instructions or permission to do otherwise, you little bitch,’ she snarled at him, ‘I will complete your punishment for that transgression once I have got you ready to serve,’ and with that she turned and continued on down the corridor. Carl followed, looking straight at Emily’s head, feeling ashamed.
As they proceeded through the corridors they passed other women all of whom were identically undressed. They each wore only a pair of 6” spiked heels which were padlocked onto their feet with straps going halfway up their lower legs. These shoes where joined by a thin chain. There were other chains around their waists, and wrists. In addition they all wore their hair in a tight braid and wore a collar. The only difference in any of the costumes was in the colour of the collars. Some of them were blue, others red, a few yellow, and Carl realised that Emily had a piece of black silk as her collar. He supposed that the colour denoted rank among the slaves and that this was how he was to know whose orders countermanded whose.
If any of the slaves were interested in this male being led around by the head slave then they didn’t show it, but on the second floor they came across a young girl, no more than 13 years old. She was dressed in black leather, corset, mini-skirt, and thong, the straps of which splayed over her little white hips. A leather cat-o-nine tails, black, hung from the waistband of her mini-skirt. When she saw Carl she gestured for them to stop. She looked briefly at Emily before returning her gaze to Carl.
‘Who’s this then?’ she asked.
‘Your mother’s new slave, Lauren. His name is Carl,’ Emily answered the little girl’s question. So this was Mistress Teresa’s daughter was it. He hadn’t expected her to have one all things considered and he definitely wouldn’t of expected her to be dressed like this. The little girl unhooked the cat from her waist and walked round Carl looking him up and down. When she had completed a full circle she looked up into his eyes and then without warning she struck him across the arse with the cat causing nine stinging lines of pain to erupt across his butt and him to freeze in shock. Lauren laughed at the expression on his face and whipped him across the arse again, making him wince. This only made Lauren laugh the harder and make to strike again but Emily intervened.
‘Enough,’ she said, ‘I have to get him ready to serve, Lauren, I’m sure your mother will let u play with him later. Now off with you.’
Lauren gave a look of longing at Carl but still turned and walked on down the corridor. Emily snapped her fingers, regaining his attention, and gestured for him to follow her. He did so and at the end of a corridor she opened a door walked inside. In the room were a bed, a wardrobe, and chair. There were also a lot of rings and chains hanging from the walls and ceiling.
On the bed there was a white leather collar, a set of thin chains like all the slaves had been wearing, and also a pair of lacy, pink woman’s underwear.
‘Strip and put those on,’ said Emily. Feeling rather embarrassed Carl started to strip taking off first his leather jacket, then his T-shirt and put them down on the bed. He then pulled off his shoes and socks, which he slid under them under bed, the socks in the appropriate shoe. He then took off his jeans and put them with his shirt and jacket on the bed. He looked at the housekeeper and when she gestured impatiently he took off his boxers blushing slightly in embarrassment. At another gesture he turned to the pair of underwear. He picked them up and slid them on. Feeling the slightly scratchy material slide up the crack of his arse and encase his dick and balls aroused him, he had always wondered what it would feel like to wear women’s underwear and now he knew.
‘Good, now stand still,’ ordered Emily. She walked over to the bed and picked up the two of the small loops of chain that were joined by another piece of chain. She then squatted down next to him and attached the two loops around his ankles with padlocks that had been holding them together.
She then did the same with the two small pieces of chain that were separate, attaching them to his wrists, and then to the large loop, padlocking that around his waist. Last of all she picked up the white leather collar and walked behind him. Whilst she attached the collar around his neck she informed him that the mistress and her daughter didn’t wear collars, and that she wore a black one as the head of the slaves. She then told him that red ranked highest after black followed by blue followed by yellow and finally white which was only ever worn by slaves who needed to be truly punished and now him of course. A slave wearing a white collar could be used in any way by anyone and she informed him that Mistress Teresa had said that this included him. She then sat down on the bed.
‘It’s time for the rest of your punishment for your earlier infraction,’ she said, ‘now come here and lye across my lap.’ He did as he was told, lying across the bed on his stomach so that his arse was on her lap but facing up and he was supporting himself with his forearms.
Slap! He felt a sharp pain across his arse cheeks and yelped turning to see what had happened.
Slap! She had smacked him.
Slap! Slap! Slap! She smacked him again and again making his arse burn with the pain and his face burn with pain, but he didn’t struggle. This was partly because he knew that his punishment would be worse if he did but mainly because he had been fantasising about being spanked for years and he could feel himself becoming aroused from it. Emily obviously felt it too as she slid her hand into the pink panties he was wearing, and telling him to lift his arse up, pushed them down to his knees. When he lowered himself again his dick was nicely ensconced between her thighs and, he realised suddenly, nestling up against her cloth-covered pussy. She resumed spanking him, now on his bare arse, but now she was moving her legs slightly as well causing friction between his dick and her thighs and pussy. Before long he was moaning from the mingled pleasure and pain that had intertwined into one wonderful feeling and he knew that he would cum soon. The side of his dick was also feeling a bit damp from the juices soaking through Emily’s thong from her pussy. Then he came and it was more wonderful than anything he had ever done to himself was and he had never done anything with a girl. However, Emily didn’t stop. She kept on spanking him and rubbing his cock, which meant that his orgasm was protracted making it even better and then suddenly she shuddered and his cock was covered in her juices. She pushed him off so that he fell to the floor with a bang and then moved back on the bed and spread her legs.
‘Get up here and lick this mess up,’ she ordered and he did just that, crawling over to the bed and licking their combined juices off of the sheets. She gestured down at herself and he crawled forward some more in order to lick and suck her juices from her inner thighs and thong.
‘Excellent,’ she said when he’d finished, ‘now stand up and pull up those knickers. Oh but collect those juices from your cock first and drink them.’
He did as ordered, scraping the juices off of his cock with his hand and slurping them up, while she stood up and rearranged her maids skirt that had been bunched up around her waist during his punishment.
‘Now come with me. It’s time for your first training session with the mistress,’ she stated and walked out the door with him struggling to keep up with the chain around his ankles restricting his strides.