Mistress Gemma And Master Mapes

Chauncy rustled around in the kitchen, wiping glasses as his Master, the black, beautiful; Master Mapes took a buggy whip to the new recruit.

Damn that kid! Right now, Chauncy could be licking the grime from Master's toes, or getting the buggy whip himself—Master had opened some serious capillaries the last time he'd given Chauncy a thrashing...but oh, how Chauncy lived for it.

Chauncy's dick filled with blood and unsuccessfully attempted to harden against the severe Prince Albert piercing that Master Mapes had locked him in seven months ago. Seven months since Chauncy's last orgasm.

Master Mapes didn't believe in orgasms, at all. Once every six weeks, Master Mapes took Chauncy to have his prostate milked by the Mapes family doctor, but that was all the relief Chauncy was given.

But everything else was a blessed relief. Not having to be vice president of Hearthstone-AppleCore Business Systems, for one thing. No, Chauncy now just did his dishes and took his punishments...and had little else to trouble him!

It was amazing how much Chauncy had learned that he could take. Bowling balls hooked onto his penis, Newport cigarettes burned into his ass, and when Mapes had his college reunion, all the frat boys took turns fucking poor Chauncy's mouth and rectum for HOURS.

The kitchen door opened, and oh God, it was Gemma. Mapes's half-breed daughter, quite beautiful, chesty, all that, but such a little bitch. Chauncy tried to smile at her, but it was damned difficult.

Gemma laughed, looking at Chauncy. "Damn you look like such a faggot wearing that stupid thong, or Speedo...Fat guys ain't supposed to wear shit like that, it takes away a girl's appetite."

"It's a loincloth, Miss Gemma" Chauncy said frostily.

"Is my Daddy doing his thing with the new boy?" Gemma asked curiously. "I heard some screaming, sounded like a pig was being slaughtered down here."

As she breathed, Chauncy watched her breasts avidly. Even though he'd been on a homo-only diet for the past seven months, Chauncy could still recognize a beautiful woman, and Gemma was it.

Gemma saw him looking and walked up close. "You like these tits, Chauncy? Like the crop-top they're in?" She tossed her long hair. Chauncy, whose father had been in the Tennessee White Citizens Council, never could understand how these mulatto octoroons got their nappy hair straightened like that. She was something—looked like Starfire from his kid's Teen Titan comics.

Gemma got up close, her full lips nearly touching Chauncy's. "You know, a pathetic little ofay faggot like you will NEVER be able to touch anything as beautiful as I am...I don't even know why you bother looking!"

And then she kicked Chauncy in his fat stomach, hard. He'd forgotten that Gemma was a black-belt kick boxer, and quite proud of it. As he lay on the kitchen floor, moaning, she chuckled.

Gemma then pulled down her shorts and panties, lifted her leg and peed on Chauncy's head. "Come on, wimp catch my urine in your fat little mouth...can't you do it? What's wrong with you honkeys?"

Annoyed because so much of her piss was landing on the floor instead of in Chauncy's mouth, she kicked him in the stomach with her Stetson boot, and he began crying softly.

"You are the most sickening human being I believe I've ever met." Gemma said disgustedly. "I can't believe your race enslaved mine for four hundred years...you don't look like you could control a hamster."

This was bitter criticism to the former vice president of Hearthstone-AppleCore Business Systems, Inc.

Gemma stepped over Chauncy's writhing body and pulled her pants back on, and listened at the kitchen door. "Oooh, Daddy's really giving it to that boy" she said with pleasure.

Gemma had to admit, she'd loved it when Daddy had become a Male Master, and then, when she was fifteen and decided to leave her neurotic Baptist mother's to live with him, that he'd trained her to kick the shit out of masochistic Caucasians.

It was a life worth living, and certainly Daddy had taught her a lot! Gemma didn't particularly enjoy whipping Chauncy, but Daddy had a client, a woman named Hester, and she paid big time to have Gemma whip her fat tits and fist-fuck her pussy.

Daddy gave Gemma most of what she earned whipping Hester, but even without the money, it was just a gas! But more importantly, she was learning that white people were basically your paper tigers. All threat, no action. Gemma's mother, who she'd not seen much of in the past five years, had originally been spanked and tortured by Daddy, and finding a pathetic refuge in religion hadn't made much of an impression on young Gemma, and she was glad she was out of there!

Now Daddy was whipping some poor idiot who was doing chin-ups, and the harder Daddy whipped him, the better chance there would be that this idiot would move in permanently. What made honkeys like that? Did it matter?

In the next room, things were being put to the test.

Tim gripped the pull up bar and tried to do his 65th chin up, but his arms were too tired. WHACK! Master Mapes's old fashioned buggy whip cracked against Tim's bare ass, and Tim bit his lip, his eyes tearing at the acute rip in his lower glutes, and he clenched the bar and pushed his way up and put his chin over it again.

"See, I knew you could do it, white boy" came Master Mapes's hearty voice. "But you've got to do one hundred. I don't accept lazy sluts."

Tim had to admit, as he geared up to pull his body over the pull-up bar one more time, that he was amazingly attracted to Master Mapes. Tim had never thought of himself as anything but heterosexual, but he'd answered Master Mapes's ad anyway...and the ebony, muscled Negro god really took him by surprise.

Now Tim faltered, and there was sweat coming out of his palms onto the bar, and he almost slipped, and then he felt a horrible feeling WHUMP! Master Mapes was just behind him, and apparently, when Tim backed down, his feet almost hitting the floor, Mapes had swung his own knee, attractively covered in leather pants, and caught poor Tim right between the legs, nearly crushing his testicles.

The intense pain almost caused Tim to fall off the bar, but he clutched the chin-up bar and pulled himself up again, amazed at the reservoir of strength he had!

The evening had started in such a civilized manner. Tim had been in his work clothes, a nice dark suit, and Master Mapes, who apparently had no first name, was in a wife-beater tank top..they'd had some wine, and begun discussing Tim's potential slavery.

"The thing is, um, Mapes, I primarily was interested in a female dominant, but it's so hard to find non-professionals." Tim had said earnestly. "Not that I'm not willing to pay some tributes, but I really am interested in a real relationship with another person."

Tim had looked up nervously at a rather chubby, sullen pale albino man in a loin cloth, who was pouring more of the wine. He apparently saw Tim as an intruder, Tim could feel the hostility emanating from him.

"Well—thank you Chauncy, that's enough wine. Go back and clean the kitchen, why don't you." Master Mapes said, with a gleaming white-toothed grin. "You see, Tim, a relationship with a dominant really doesn't depend on gender. You may have your preferences, but the real need that's within you, is that of a desire to be controlled."

Master Mapes sipped his wine. "Chauncy, for instance left a wife and six kids and a couple girlfriends on the side to come and live with me. At first he was terrified at my dick—never sucked one before. But I taught him, using a riding crop, to tenderly take my long schlong into his mouth and cherish it, and now he begs for it every morning."

Tim gulped his Chianti. "Th-that so?"

The wine drinking had ended, and Tim had nervously said he would like to try things out, though he was thinking of another time, and Master Mapes had genially suggested they try right now!

Tim had undressed and been tied down and whipped, and Master Mapes had sampled Tim's mouth and asshole, which has been rather tight, as Tim was an anal virgin...and then Mapes had decided he wanted to see what Tim was like as an athlete, which had lead to this horrible chin up torture, and now that Tim was on his 67th pull-up, he was really flagging.

"Come on, bitch boy" Mapes was now saying. "Don't make me kick you in the back of the balls again. I know you can do one hundred chin-ups. Don't let all that beer and junk food get you down."

But, as Tim was about to speak, the most beautiful light brown—gold colored girl with huge tits and long, flowing hair came out of the kitchen, she came right up to where Tim was chinning, or rather holding on to the bar for dear life, and snickered.

"Meet my daughter Gemma Mapes, Tim. She can do one hundred chin ups in two minutes, and you've been wasting my time for over five now."

Gemma was small, and the pull up bar was long, and to Tim's astonishment, she grabbed the end of the bar, while he was still hanging onto the other end, and chinned herself up, indeed, one hundred times in two minutes.

Dropping down without a sweat, she spoke to her father. "I think this white boy is hopeless, Daddy. Look at him. You should throw him out with the trash.

Mapes laughed a broad, hearty African chuckle. "No no, Gemma, we must be charitable. If I keep up with the buggy whip, I can get him to do the remaining thirty-three, instead of just hanging there like a wet cockroach, eh?"

"Maybe I can help too. We've got to get this boy going" Gemma said. To Tim's horror, she pulled out a high butane torch lighter, the kind used to light cigars in those Arab bars. She put it under Tim's cock.

"Now this thing really burns, Timmy...you want your dick singed?" Gemma turned on the propane lighter, and a long flame shot up, and she held it just...very close under his now quite hard penis...and yes, Tim pulled up for the sixty-seventh time!

And then let himself down and went up for the sixty-eighth! Between his horror at the butane flame, and his gaping at her gorgeous cleavage in the tiny, form-fitting top, Tim was distracted enough that he made it all the way to one hundred pull ups, before falling off the bar in a heap on the floor. Shortly after this, Tim went home, and he'd been somewhat brusque with the Mapeses, so he didn't think he'd be hearing from them again, but a week later, there was a knock at his door.

Tim, who was playing with his Xbox, came to the door to find Gemma Mapes, resplendent in a burgundy keyhole dress and a tall, dark haired guy in a tux.

"Hello, Tim. Farand and I were just out at the opera, and we thought we'd drop by, if you don't mind." Before Tim could say anything (such as "How did you know where I live?") Gemma and Farand brushed past him and into his living room. "Why don't you get us some beers, Tim? And then I have an assignment for you."

Stunned, Tim went and got the beers and when he came back, Gemma stood up. "Farand is feeling a little tense, and so I was hoping you could give him some relief. We're going home to fuck like minks, but I'd like it if you took your clothes off and put this lip gloss on, and suck Farand off once, so I don't have to deal with pre-mature ejaculation."

Farand blushed, and Tim was aghast. "What? The hell? Look here, Gemma—"

But Tim's protest was interrupted with Gemma's slap across his face. Then she took him by the collar, which was comical, since she was about five three and Tim was over six feet tall. "Timothy, you are my Daddy's slave bitch, and thus, you have to do as I say. Now get in the bathroom and put that hot pink lip gloss on!"

"Gemma, I'm not your father's slave, we just had an initial—"Why was he arguing with this lunatic? He could throw her and her weirdo boyfriend out on their asses! But Tim felt a little bit powerless, strangely enough.

Gemma grinned. "Daddy said you'd wimp out, that you didn't have what it takes to be a genuine submissive. You're not going to be a real slave, are you, Timmy?"

Tim looked at Farand, who just looked bored, and then he took the lip gloss from Gemma, bowed his head and said "Just a minute, Mistress Gemma." He went into the bathroom and looked at it. He'd never worn lipstick in his life. Crossdressing was not his thing.

But, he applied the Pink Mischief brand gloss haphazardly, and then stripped off his clothes and came out of the bathroom. "On your knees, Tina." Gemma said with asperity, and down Tim went.

He didn't know why he was doing this, but he couldn't let her challenge, her taunts go...Tim could be a submissive! As he moved up to Farand's crotch, Farand unzipped his pants and took out his long dick and Tim got it in his mouth and began sucking.

Tim's old Mistress, Kismet had taught Tim to suck penises, he knew how not to apply teeth, and of course he'd prepared himself for the "train wreck" that was a male orgasm. In five minutes Farand grabbed Tim's hair and squeezed his head, and then moaned, and squirted jism into Tim's mouth.

Before Tim could get up to spit it out, Gemma grabbed his scalp and held his head back. "Swallow, baby...enjoy that Cool Whip, you know you can do it."

As Tim swallowed, he was amazed. Farand was a geeky nerd type, and Tim could have kicked his ass with one hand. But, Farand apparently wasn't a submissive, which meant that he could be deputized as a substitute Master by the evil Gemma.

God, he couldn't believe this was happening to him!

And then, unbelievably, they left, and later Tim was awakened at one a.m. He opened his door, and Gemma was there. "Let me in, you've got to clean me out, Timmy." She was so gorgeous, but Tim just couldn't' believe her effrontery

But she walked past him, right into the bedroom, and as he followed in wonder, there she was, taking off all her clothes. "Farand came in me about five times, and now I'm all nasty. You can get it out of me with your tongue, can't you baby?" She smiled. "I'll let you kiss my big boobies!"

Tim wanted to scream at Gemma, but he was absolutely taken aback at her beautiful body. Huge, real breasts that stood up on their own, a tiny waist, and delicate trimmed vagina hair...it was trimmed into a heart shape and colored red!

And as Gemma moved towards the bed, Tim noticed that her ass was beautiful, and curvy, but not too big...and when she lay down to spread her legs, he ripped off his pajamas and jumped on the bed as well, and spent twenty minutes cleaning her out, and bringing her to two further orgasms before she invited him to sample her full, sweet breasts.

"You see, Timmy, all good things come to those who wait...the meek inherit the earth, or at least my tits!" Gemma smiled and Tim sucked and kissed the cocoa colored breasts greedily, and he really felt like he was in some kind of heaven.

Finally, he pulled himself up beside her, and Gemma lay her head on his shoulder. "Normally you'd be ordered to sleep on the floor, but you've been such a good boy. Farand said your blowjobs are better than mine, and I'm starting to feel competitive."

"I love you Miss Gemma." Tim said, and he looked into her eyes. He meant it, too!