I Love My Mistress

I was at work when my phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, I saw the single letter 'M.' Mistress! I didn't let it ring a second time. From the other end, I heard the smoky, sensual voice say "Come," and I nearly did right there. She hung up, not needing to say anything more. I knew where to go. I left work early, got in my car and drove. It had been nearly three weeks since I last heard from her and I ached to see her again.

Some may think it strange to be so obsessed with this woman who I knew nearly nothing about. I do know that she's rich. And I mean super rich. She doesn't bother with cash, checks, or credit cards, things are always just taken care of. But don't think I'm some kind of gold digger or anything; I work an office job and live in anything but luxury. She's never given me any money, or paid my bills, or bought me expensive gifts. Well, there was one thing: a white leather dog collar, tastefully studded with eight large diamonds (real), and with 'PET' engraved in gold letters. It is my most treasured possession. Not because of the decadence, but because she gave it to me. I always kept it close by, and it was now in my glove box.

* * * *

We met about six months ago. I was in a nightclub, blowing off some steam by drinking and dancing the night away. As I was a pretty young woman in such circumstances, a number of men were eager to get to know me better. I hadn't gone out that night with the intention of meeting anyone, but as the night went on and the alcohol started to go to my head, I was getting kind of horny and began to reassess. I was considering the candidates for a potential one-night stand as we danced out on the floor when I saw her. She was in a private booth, watching the writhing bodies on the dance floor with a wicked little smile, gazing over everything like she owned it all.

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I had only fooled around with other girls in high school and college, and had always preferred men, but I knew at that moment that I wanted her. Suddenly, she was looking right at me. My heart started racing even more than it had been, and I started dancing again. I don't know why I didn't just go over there and talk to her. Maybe it was the private booth, maybe I just wanted to show off a little. Kind of like saying 'I know you're watching me, look how sexy I am.' As I danced, I kept looking back to see if she would keep watching. She never looked away, with that predatory grin making my pussy just so wet. Eventually, she raised her hand and crooked a finger at me, allowing me to approach her.

I navigated my way across the dance floor and up to her booth. With a playful smile, I said "Hey there!" practically shouting to be heard over the noise of the club.

"Hey yourself," she answered. Indicating the empty bench beside her, she said "Join me." I hopped into the seat and introduced myself while she poured a couple of glasses of champagne from the bottle on the table. She was probably in her early to mid-thirties, but if she said she was twenty-one I would have believed her. Dark hair and flawless pale skin made me think of a grown-up version of Snow White. A Snow White who had become a queen, made that prince her bitch, and was now on the hunt for a new sexual toy.

She said "I liked watching you dance."

"Thanks," I said, sipping the offered drink.

"You seem pretty popular tonight."

"Yeah, I guess. But those guys will probably hit on anything with tits."

"Were you thinking about sleeping with any of them?"

Wow. Pretty direct, right? "Well...thinking about it..." I said, trying to be coy. "But then I saw you."

Her smile grew just slightly. She leaned in closer and my breath caught in my throat. "Would you like to go somewhere quieter?"

"Do you mind if I get noisy?"

She grabbed the bottle of champagne and led me by the hand to the door. One thing I noticed when we stood up was that she was quite taller than me. I'm only 5'6" and she was wearing four-inch heels at the time, which made her a full head taller than me, and actually put me at eye level with her spectacular rack. Awesome. Outside, we barely had to wait any time at all before a classy black limo with tinted windows pulled up to the curb and the driver held the door open for us to climb in the back. The interior was furnished with black leather, and there was even a bar on one side. Wrapped in out private little bubble, we drank the rest of the bottle and flirted as the limo drove us I didn't care where. Somehow she steered the conversation so it never really came to a point where we could just start making out. There was quite a bit of touching, though nothing too sexual.

We went to a hotel, a really fancy one, where we walked right on in past the front desk. She led me up to a huge suite that probably had more space in it than the house I grew up in. There was even a hot tub. I had no doubt that, if she had asked (or more likely ordered) it to be filled with champagne, it would have been done.

After a little more flirting and teasing, she led me to the hot tub. She stripped down, and what a sight that was! I stood transfixed, admiring her uncovered cream colored flesh as she slipped into the water. She sat on the other side, arms on the edge of the pool, her magnificent breasts with dark areola and stiff nipples the size of the ends of my pinky finger resting just above the waterline. I noticed my jaw was open and closed it and was about to rip my own clothes off. "Go slow," she said. I stopped myself from tearing my clothes apart, instead starting to do a little striptease. She looked on hungrily as I took off everything. When I was naked, she gave a low growl, and I stepped down in to the water. Then, we were naked together in a hot tub.

It was at this point that she just kind of...took charge. She was very gentle—well, mostly. Every action was very calculated, very controlled and yet passionate and hungry. She took me in a way I had never dreamed of, simply owning me. I don't know how long it all lasted, nor when we finally fell asleep in the huge, soft bed, her holding me close in her arms, my head resting on her breast (Best. Pillow. Ever.).

We woke up late the next morning. We lazily made love again before showering together. After an expensive-looking brunch, I gathered my things together. She led me to the door and I suddenly felt very embarrassed. I said "I, uh, I don't think you actually ever told me your name."

"No, I didn't"

Standing at the door, I kept my eyes on my feet. "So I guess there's no chance of seeing you again..."

"Check your phone contacts."

I did, and found the new entry of 'M.' "How did you...? When did...?"

"I'll call you."

After that, she called me up every few days. Sometimes, her driver picked me up and took me to the same hotel, and sometimes I would have to drive myself. Over the first two months, we must have had sex on every surface in that suite. One day, she sent me the address of an apartment building and told me to meet her in the penthouse. The place she lived was even better than the hotel; every single thing in it looked like it was worth more than I made in a year. She even had a little sex dungeon next to her bedroom filled with all kinds of fun toys, not that the rest of the penthouse didn't see some of the action. Gradually, our play times got kinkier as we explored our boundaries and established our roles as Mistress and Pet. I've tried bondage and even some light S&M before, but when I was with her, it was something completely different. I offered myself to her fully, and she accepted me in a gentle (and often a really fun not-so-gentle) embrace. I never told anyone about her. I guess I liked having this secret, super-kinky sex life.

Eventually, she began setting down rules.

Rule #1: She was my Mistress and I was her Pet. I was to obey all orders that she gave me.

Rule #2: When we met, I was never to wear clothes around her, unless told otherwise. This was when she gave me my collar, which was the only exception.

And Rule #3: I was not to touch myself or to come without Mistress's permission.

The first two were easy to follow. I wanted to please my mistress, and I knew she would never order me to do anything that I didn't, deep down, really want to do. I've also always liked being naked, and loved how her eyes would roam over my exposed, vulnerable body; it was a hungry look, like she longed to eat me up.

The third rule was harder. Firstly, just knowing I wasn't allowed to masturbate made it forbidden fruit, and we all know how tempting that is. Second, in those times when the mind wanders, mine would frequently wander to her, which got me horny as hell, like a perverted Pavlovian response. When it was only a couple of days between our liaisons, I could usually control myself, but when it was longer, I had a lot more trouble. I sometimes thought about calling her or going to her place and begging her to fuck me and let me come, but it didn't work like that; she called me, I didn't call her.

* * * *

I grew worried when she didn't call me for so long. She had never let that much time pass between our play times before. Thoughts about possible reasons for this buzzed in my head as I drove to her place. There was also the joyful awareness that she had called me to her once more.

I left my car in the parking structure across from her building. The doorman leered at me on the way in; he knew me and knew exactly why I was here. I used a special keycard in the elevator to get up to the penthouse. The doors opened on a small entrance hall, where I quickly stripped down, folded up my clothes, and left them with my purse in a basket. I put on my collar and tightened it so it was comfortably snug around my throat. I loved the feel of my collar on my neck and often wore it when no one else was around. It was like feeling Mistress's touch when I wasn't with her.

I crawled out of the entrance hall on hands and knees; I knew she would like that. Fortunately, there were luxuriously soft carpets spread over the marble floors. I moved quickly but tried not to rush, hoping to look more 'sexy kitty' than the 'excited puppy' that I was feeling. In the spacious living room there was an ornate fireplace in which flames glowed and crackled. Directly in front of it, there was a large, dark stuffed leather chair and there I found Mistress. My heart skipped a beat upon seeing her and that wicked smirk of hers again.

She sat with one leg crossed over the other, wearing a slinky black silk dress that hugged her voluptuous figure. There was a slit up the side all the way to the hip and black stiletto heels on her feet. Her glossy black hair was elegantly styled in what could only be called a coiffure. Long black lashes surrounded piercing blue eyes. Cherry red lipstick colored her full lips; men would probably kill each other for a blowjob from lips like hers. I crawled up in front of her seat and sat on my heels, my hands clasped on my lap, looking at the floor directly in front of me.

"Hello Pet," she said in that voice that practically dripped sex from every syllable. "It's been too long."

"Yes, Mistress," I said. "I'm really happy to see you again, Mistress."

"That's nice." I knew she was happy to see me too. If she didn't care, she wouldn't have said anything at all. "Have you been a good girl?"

"No, Mistress, I broke Rule Three." She would punish me for breaking the rules, of course, but the punishing was usually pretty fun too. I had lied to her only once, not to escape punishment, just to see what would happen. Somehow, she knew I lied and she nearly threw me out. I begged for forgiveness and finally she relented. My punishment for that had been to ride a Sybian for the whole night. It was kind of like that cartoon where a guy goes to hell for his gluttony and is strapped into a machine that force feeds him forever. My pussy was so sore afterward I called in sick to work the next day just to take some time to rest with a bag of ice on my crotch. I had never lied to her again.

"And how many times did you break Rule Three?" Mistress asked.

"Four times, Mistress," I said. "But I haven't in ten whole days, Mistress, I swear! And when you stopped calling me I thought that you were upset that I kept breaking the Rules and I was so scared that you wouldn't call ever again and...and..." Words started getting stuck in my throat as I began crying. Some people can look attractive even when they cry; I knew I was not one of those people.

Mistress rose and came over to me. She did not bend down, but only cupped my cheek in her hand and I leaned my head into her tender touch. "There, there, Pet. Shhh...don't cry." She waited until my tears had stopped. She smiled down at me warmly. "Unfortunately, my absence was unavoidable, but I am here now. I will never abandon you, my sweet little Pet."

I sniffed and said "Thank you, Mistress."

She pulled away and I let out a small whine. "But you have been a bad pet, and what kind of Mistress would I be if I didn't discipline you?" She tilted her head and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Four times? Tch tch tch. That's very naughty, Pet." She looked back at me and I squirmed under her gaze. "Though given the circumstances, I am willing to be merciful. Fetch the whip."

I crawled over to a cupboard in the corner. I could feel Mistress's eyes on my ass the whole way. My boobs might be on the smallish side, but I have a great ass. Inside the cupboard was a variety of dildos, plugs, vibrators, handcuffs and manacles, lengths of rope, and, of course the whip. It wasn't the only whip in the penthouse, but if she had said 'Fetch the whip' in any other room, I would have gotten the whip that was in that room or the closest room with a whip in it. This one hung on a hook by a small loop on the bulbous end of the handle. The long strips of leather hanging down from it looked like the tentacles of a black jellyfish. I leaned in to grab it when I heard Mistress say "On second thought, fetch the crop. I mustn't spoil you after all."

The stiff riding crop hung next to the whip on its own hook. She could leave stinging red welts on my skin with it. Not that those couldn't be enjoyable in their own way. I grabbed it with my teeth, closed the cabinet and returned to Mistress. Taking the riding crop from my teeth, she patted me on the head. She walked behind me and I lowered myself onto my elbows and raised my ass in the air, presenting it for punishment. I felt the leather flap on the end of the crop sliding gently over the curves of my backside for a moment, and I shivered with anticipation.

SMACK! A line of fire seared across my ass cheeks as the length of the crop struck.

SMACK! I winced again as the flap slapped across the first line on one cheek and then—

SMACK! —the other.

Mistress laid twenty lashes across my ass methodically, crisscrossing them across each other. She was gentler than she could have been, the soreness would fade soon. One last SMACK! came up between my legs to slap my pussy, making me squeal. Mistress walked up beside me, facing away, and I rose up so she could sit on my back like a chair. I could feel her firm ass on my back through her dress. She ran a hand over my stinging cheeks, the heat of her hand burning on the pink skin, but God did I love feeling her caress again.

I felt the pressure of the crop's handle at the entrance of my pussy and I moaned as it slowly entered me. Mistress stroked my hair with one hand while she fucked me with the riding crop with the other. She sighed. "You've always had such difficulty with Rule Three, Pet."

"Yes, Mistress," I moaned as she continued to pump in and out, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.

"I think we'll work on that tonight, then." She pulled the crop out of my pussy and I moaned pathetically, desperately wanting to come. "Yes, you need to learn some..." She pressed the crop's handle against my asshole and pushed it right in, making me squeal again. "...self-control."

She stood up and said "Come along, Pet." The crop sticking out of my ass like a tail, I crawled after her. She walked slow so that I could keep up.

I followed her through the penthouse and into the dining room, where a table that could seat ten people on each side had been set for one. Mistress led me to the far end of the room to a tall double door cabinet. On the inside of the cabinet doors was a series of images, possibly taken from the Kama Sutra. The back wall was red and attached to it were a series of black leather straps and metal clips, designed to hold a person. Mistress stood me up against the back wall and began strapping me in. Manacles held my wrists firmly at my sides. Clips locked onto both sides of my collar. Leather straps wrapped around my waist and around each thigh, pinning me in place. Taking a pair of nipple clamps that hung on a hook inside the cabinet, she tightened one down on one of my nipples until I yelped in pain. She dialed the clamp back slightly and repeated the procedure with my other nipple so that they both squeezed my nipples painfully, but not unbearably.

She stood back to admire the picture of me, held in place, framed by the cabinet doors like a piece of art, and smiled. From beside the cabinet, she brought out what looked like a microphone stand with a large vibrating personal massager secured to the end by a tightly tied scarf. Carefully, she placed this so that the vibrator was just barely touching my clit.

"Until I say otherwise," she said, "you are not allowed to come. And if you do, the punishment will not be so lenient."

With that, she went to the opposite end of the table and used a remote control to turn on the vibrator. I groaned as the sensation hit my clit. Waves of pleasure spread out from my little love button, but it was nowhere near enough to satisfy me. All the way on the far end of the table, Mistress removed the silver lid from the plate in front of her and began eating her dinner. I couldn't tell exactly what she was eating, but knowing her tastes, it was probably something that would make a gourmet chef weep with joy. It certainly smelled delicious, and I tried to concentrate on that instead of the teasing buzz on my clit provoking tingling waves of pleasure to radiate out from my pussy.

As she ate her meal and sipped her wine, she would also fiddle with the remote. Sometimes, she would increase the vibrator's speed until just before I could come, and then slow it down and watch me squirm, futilely trying to push my clit forward to pursue the tingling stimulation. I could tell she liked the squeaks, cries, and moans I made while she toyed with me. It was dinner and a show for her.

I don't know how long I spent in that torture. When she had finished her dinner, she put the lid back over the plate. Picking up the remote control, she slowly sauntered down the length of the table, shifting back and forth between speeds quickly. She finally stopped, leaving the vibrator on its lowest speed, and leaned against the frame of the cabinet. I leaned toward her as far as the clips holding my collar would let me, moaning for release of one kind or another.

"Do you want to come, Pet?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress, please. Please let me come," I begged.

"Ah, ah, ah," she wagged a finger under my nose. "We are working on your self-control. Have I given you permission to come?" She ran her finger down my chest, between my tits and across my stomach.

"No, Mistress."

"And so...?"

"I-I won't," I was panting in hard, ragged breaths. "I won't, I won't, I won't."

"Good. Now just wait right here." Mistress left and, in my cabinet, I could not see where she went. For a moment I feared that this would be like the Night of the Sybian, but thankfully, Mistress came back shortly. She brought with her a very large plate, a silver spoon, and a napkin, which she arranged on the close end of the table. She turned off the vibrator and I whimpered, in relief at the end of the aggravating tease, and in regret that my pleasure wouldn't be satisfied. Then she pulled the riding crop out of my ass and I felt strangely empty. She disappeared again, taking away the crop, the remote, and the vibrator on its stand. Sweat cooled on my skin, and juices dripped down the insides of my legs. The only thing keeping me upright were the restraints. Mistress returned and leaned against the cabinet again. She caressed just under my tits and down across my stomach, raising goose bumps all over. Her hand hovered just over my pussy, feeling the heat.