Meeting My Mistress

*This is a true story, and Mistress DeVille is my real Domina*

_______________________

I stepped into the room and shivered with anticipation. Mistress DeVille's dungeon was decked out in lush, heavy curtains and beautifully ornate ruby rugs.

"Onto your knees, slave," she commanded, in a tone deceptively sweeter than the words coming out.

I complied. It was my first time seeing an actual Domina, but I already knew I wanted to obey Mistress DeVille as well as I could. We had just finished what she referred to with a devilish smile as "negotiating"- that is, talking about my limits and safewords before the scene. Now I was on my knees on the floor in her dungeon. What had I gotten myself into?

My heart raced with a thrilling mix of excitement and fear, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

Mistress DeVille was drop-dead gorgeous. She was a little taller than me in her shiny black high-heeled boots, and had perfectly messy scarlet curls. Her tiny waist was complimented by a tight black corset, and her luscious tits were almost spilling out the top of her lacy bra.

I couldn't stop imagining running my hands over her body, aching to touch that incredible Goddess- but I didn't dare. She was towering above me, glaring at me.

"Well?" she asked, "don't you know how to greet a woman?" I shook my head. "Speak up!"

"No, Mistress DeVille," I managed to squeeze out. She smiled. "Good," she purred, "then I get to train you the right way. Get down on all fours."

Feeling ridiculous, I hesitated. But I was curious, and felt like I was under a spell, just mesmerized by her. I put my hands down on the cushy rug. I was now eye-level with her thigh-high black boots. They were so shiny, I could almost see my reflection in them.

From above me, Mistress DeVille said "kiss my boots." I paused.

"KISS MY BOOTS," she ordered again, louder this time. I bent my elbows, bowing awkwardly a little bit, and planted one soft kiss on the toe of her boot. It was smooth and cool against my lips. "And the other," she ordered, as I bent forward again and kissed the other boot, lingering a second longer this time. It sent a little thrill through me, like having a dangerous secret.

"Good little bitch," she said, her ruby lips stretching to reveal a grin with slightly pointed teeth that made her look vicious. "Now I want to see my new toy. Stand up!"

I stood. "Now strip," she said. "And make it sexy." I blushed. She reclined on a velvet fainting couch and crossed one long leg over the other, still looking at me.

"Um," I said stupidly, fumbling to get my zipper undone. I dropped my pants, wiggling out of them in what I hoped was a sexy way. Embarrassingly, I already had an erection. I could hear Mistress DeVille chuckling at me from her perch.

My blood was pounding in my ears. It was just the two of us in the room, but Mistress's penetrating eyes made me sweat like I was in front of a huge audience.

I sucked in my stomach and pulled my shirt off over my head, suddenly aware of how pasty I was. I could feel her eyes roving over my barely clothed body, scorching my flaws. Mistress was laughing out loud now. "Dumb little bitch, you have a LOT of training ahead of you."

"Mistress DeVille, do you want me to take my underwear off too?" I asked, hoping she would leave me at least those, to spare me some dignity.

But no, that wicked smile was back. "Of course, slave. Take them off and fold them neatly with your other clothes."

Slowly, I peeled my boxers off. I had never felt so naked before, even when I had been naked before with other women. With Mistress I felt more vulnerable.

Now my dick isn't anything to write home about, but I like to think I'm about average. With Mistress DeVille's eyes on my throbbing hard erection though, I knew that I could never measure up. She laughed in my face. "Oh you poor little thing," she said, "how difficult it must be to go through life with that tiny thing in your pants. No woman would be pleased by that. I feel sorry for any woman that pitied you enough to fuck you- they couldn't have liked it much."

I was so humiliated. I wanted to hide, to cover myself with a blanket away from her prying eyes. But deep inside, I knew she was right. Mistress DeVille was a goddess, it was seriously unreal how perfect she was. And I'm not hideous, I have pretty good self-esteem, but I'm just nowhere near her league. And she knew it.

"I have something more suitable for you to wear," she told me, and pulled a small silk pouch off of the end table. I didn't know what she could possibly want me to wear that would fit in that bag, which was only about the size of a CD. She tossed it onto the ground next to me.

"Open it," she ordered, but I was already pulling the little bag open. I reached in and something soft and textured brushed my fingers. I pulled it out of the bag. A pair of women's panties. A purple, see-through, lace pair of women's panties.

"Put them on, slut" she purred at me. "I want to see you in them."

I gulped, feeling my throat constrict. But they would at least shield my poor cock from Mistress DeVille's humiliating remarks. I quickly pulled them on. They held my package in place securely, and rode up my ass crack until I could feel soft lace right up against my ass.

"Turn around," she commanded huskily, and grabbed me, pinning my arms to my sides and spinning me around until she was standing directly behind me. I could feel the warmth of her body right behind my naked body, electricity tingling in the inch or two between us. I felt one of her legs snake in between my legs, and suddenly she pushed me over, forcing me to bend at the waist over a table.

"Now spread your legs," she breathed into my ear. She ran her nails across my exposed butt cheeks before slapping them sharply. I settled into my position, bent forward over a table, legs spread wide open, sexiest woman I'd ever seen right behind me. My face burned with embarrassment at being so exposed. She slapped my ass again, and again and again, settling into a rhythm of firm spanks, punctuated once and again with an especially enthusiastic, and painful, spank. I could feel my ass heating up, and my cock was straining at my tight panties.

I could tell she was really enjoying herself. She must be a sadist. She smiled every time she landed a blow, and the more I flinched and yelped, the wider she smiled. My breathing was heavy from being tortured, but I heard her breaths get deeper as well. It turned me on like crazy to know that abusing me was turning her on.

"My little bitch, you've done such a nice job taking your punishment," she breathed, "you get a reward." She pushed me to the ground and settled herself into a huge chair in front of me. She lifted her feet off the ground and let her boots rest on my shoulders. I sat on the ground in front of her, trying to look up her tight skirt. "Eyes on the ground or I'll whip the shit out of you," she warned.

I did as I was told, unzipping her long black boots, all the way from the inside of her thigh to the inside of her ankle. I pulled them delicately off her legs then feet, inhaling the scent of them. She took pleasure in ordering me to smell her feet, to kiss them and massage them. Her legs were long, shapely and tanned, ending in incredibly sexy feet with dark red nail polish.

I could sense her moving around in her throne-line chair. I kept my eyes trained on her feet for fear of punishment. Oh my god. She was touching herself. This was the hottest thing I could ever remember happening to me. I practically held my breath, putting all my effort into rubbing her feet and staring at the ground, as she got herself off. She came quickly, touching herself with skill I knew my hands didn't have. I had never gotten a woman to come that hard or quickly before, but she could obviously please herself.

"Oh Mistress," I whispered, "I would do anything to fuck you."

"To what?" She pulled her feet out of my reach and laughed like I had just told her a funny joke.

"Let's get this straight now, slave. I will never fuck you. Never. I would never fuck a pathetic loser slave like you." She was putting her boots back on.

"You're pathetic. Your cock makes me laugh. In the future, if you're lucky, I might fuck you... with my strap-on dildo." She stood up and pressed her foot hard into my balls, crushing them painfully between her boot and the ground.

"NEVER gonna happen. Are we clear?" I whimpered.

"What a dumb fucking slut." She ground even harder for a second, making me lose my breath. I felt an enormous sense of relief as she removed her foot from my nuts, which was only slightly dimmed by the surprise of a stinging pain as she slapped me in the face.

"Stand up," she ordered, and I did. She tossed me my clothes

"I would say we're quite familiar with each other now, wouldn't you?" She asked, and my cheeks flamed with embarrassment. I was still incredibly aware of how my ass burned from her welts. She had seen every part of me, naked. I nodded.

She grinned. "Then you can call me Mistress Bailey from now on. Understand?"

_________________________

*to be continued...?*

Would you go back? Will I?