Mistress Marisa's Estate

I am one of several slaves my Mistress Marisa keeps in her household. I am completely owned as are the other slaves that serve her. These episodes are written with her permission. It is my, our story...

********************************

The two of you sit in your study, big over-stuffed chairs. You sip scotch, just a leisurely evening with your lover by the fire.

I hear you ring your bell. I hurry to your call, almost run, high heels clicking on the floor as I move to you quickly. I enter the room dressed as I am around your house for evening service. I am in my evening sissy serving outfit, ruffled sissy dress, puff shoulders with flared skirt, heavily petti coated, ultra ruffled panties, seamed stockings and high heels. Your lover looks at me the way he always does. He doesn't understand me at all, doesn't understand why you keep me as your devoted slave.

I hurry to your side.

"Princess, two more of these."

You don't acknowledge me, just hold your glass up and sip at half of the remaining drink. Your lover glares.

"Hold on. This is like a play, a game."

He puts his glass on the table next to his chair.

"Marisa, this faggot is convenient but does he have to be around 24x7?"

He looks at me as he says that. My face reddens. I look to the floor start to take your glass. You pull it away, stare at him. Before you respond to him he raises his voice, talks at me.

"Okay. Let's all play. You want to keep this bitch around, play these dirty games, why not."

He unzips his pants, undoes his belt quickly.

"Let's get it over with. Get over here sissy. You did this once before, cocksucker. Fairy boys aren't my thing. But let's just fucking do it again, let's play Marisa's game. Use your faggot mouth on me, that will make her happy tonight."

Mocking, teasing tone, he is being angry and defiant.

He slips his pants and underwear down below his cheeks fast, sits back down firmly in his chair completely exposed with his pants and underwear to his ankles. His huge cock droops between his semi spread legs.

"You are so cruel. I don't like that about you. I don't like the way you are acting now, baby."

You look at him.

"Me??? You should talk, Marisa. You whip that faggot's ass silly whenever you like."

I look to you, confused, for just an instant. I see you turn and glare at me, glare harsher than he did. You almost snarl.

"Well? He told you to do something! Why are you standing there?!? When he tells you to do something it's just like me telling you to do something. Are we confused, bitch??? Will my paddle maybe clear your stupid little mind? What are you waiting for?!?"

I look away quickly as you sternly scold me. I hurry to do as told, almost stumble in my heels as I move rapidly to the front of your lover. I kneel and am quick to take his cock in my mouth.

My head starts to move up and down on his large semi erect cock, feel it swell to full erection in my mouth. You are looking at me from the back. You see my little-girl ruffled panties exposed, my butt pushed out from behind. You see the outline of my cock restraint and locked butt dildo plug up between my spread legs. You see it all up under my skirt as it pushes up high from me bending over him. You see my mouth and head moving up and down on your lover's lap rapidly.

"No, I mean you are cruel in all the wrong ways. I love you but you don't get it at all, so fucking insensitive to all of them. My sissy pets are afraid of you, you know that. I think you like it that way. They respect and fear me. They only fear you."

You sip from the quarter glass in your hand. You watch my head move up and down on him rapidly, hear the sounds I make while sucking his cock. You look at him.

"He only wants to please. No reason for you to be so mean spirited. And I am cruel to him only to teach, give him what a slave needs to stay submissive. I love him too and I know what he needs. He's my favorite pet. You may never understand that. He needs what I give him."

I feel him pull my face up, feel him pull my mouth roughly off of his cock by the sides of my head.

"Slow down, this isn't a fucking race!"

He slaps my face.

"I am so sorry, Sir, sorr...", feel my mouth pushed back down onto him in mid-sentence, can't even mumble the last of the word 'sorry' he does it so quickly. I feel his erect cock hit the back of my throat. I stifle a choking sound. He sits back in his chair, comfortable, watches me.

I feel him start to get into what I'm doing, feel him start to lose himself to my mouth. He stares down at me, can feel his eyes on me, he sees my lipstick all over his hard on. I keep my eyes closed so as not to have to see him. I don't like this man. I would never let him or you know that.

"He's just eager. Don't be so hard on him. He's trying to be a good boy and doesn't want to make a mistake."

You lean back in your chair, sip the remainder of your scotch.

"Have you fucked Mary yet, have you fucked his mother? I have his mother eating out of my hand. She's a first class little slut girl, just like he is."

I think of Mistress seducing my mother. Inviting her to one of your gala sex parties, shepherding her through it all, in little or no time, discovering, exploiting, bringing out the kinky bi-sexual side of her. I think about my mother now being a regular visitor in your house, my mother now a regular in your bedroom and punishment room.

You stare at your lover, drain the rest of your glass. Eyes over the top of your rocks glass, you are measuring his face.

"Fuck no I haven't fucking fucked his mother!!! Marisa, you are hard to understand sometimes. Fucking incredible!"

He glares at you, sees you smile, deliciously, tauntingly.

"Marisa, Marisa, Marisa where did I find you. You are a strange one. Kinkiest women I've ever known."

He's breathing heavily. I feel his hand go to the back of my head. He throbs in my mouth, I push my tongue up into the hole of his penis, lick it.

"Good, honey. That's the right answer, fuck anybody but me and I'll break that thing off. Keep it in my purse. You're my boyfriend, nobody else's. No need to get all excited."

You lick your lips, air-kiss toward him.

He starts to grunt, moans. He can feel what I'm doing now, undeniable, could cum if he wanted to. And he will. I'm trying as hard as I can to make that happen. Not for him, for my Mistress, for you.

I'm milking just the large head of it, doing my special little trick, tongue up under his cock across the hole, head of it pushed up tight to the roof of my mouth. I am pumping him to make him cum, working hard.

"Marisa, if any other woman said that to me I'd think it was a joke. But you? I have to sleep with one eye open now, hand on my...", he looks down at me, feel his hand on my head, "...uh, uh, ooooooooo, right there, right there."

He catches himself, pushes his hip up, arm on the chair to raise himself up in it.

"Uh, Uh, fuck. Marisa, don't talk, just don't talk right now...oooooo..."

He closes his eyes, starts to pump slightly, takes his hand off my head. He grabs the leather arms of the chair, sinks his fingers deep into them, then pulls his hands off of the chair and grabs my head, holds me so tight it hurts. He moves my head, uses it to masturbate, face fucks me while he moves my mouth up and down on him.

You watch intently, smile, amused that just this simple dirty little act can completely captivate a man. 'Men are so easily manipulated by that thing.', flashes across your mind. You are loving what you are seeing.

When he cums, I hold his cock in my mouth tight, afraid to hurt him but more afraid to spill a drop of it. He explodes into the back of my throat, five hard spurts. Some of it spurts out slightly onto my dress. I swallow it all as quick as I can. Three more little spurts, then drips, I feel him push my head off and away from him. He pushes me roughly away. He is through with me.

"Well that was unexpected, very nice. That little faggot should have been born a girl. Maybe I do see why you keep him around."

He takes his drink from the table, tosses it back. He drains the glass and holds it out to me.

"Princess, maybe I have under estimated you after all. Fetches drinks, sucks dick, cleans house, you'd make a good wife."

You laugh as I hurry to take his empty glass, stand and hurry to you. You hand me your glass, take my arm before I can leave for the kitchen. I feel your other hand on my rear, cup my right cheek, pat it gently.

"You're a good boy, honey. I didn't mean to yell at you, call you 'stupid'. You know mama gets inpatient sometimes. And don't pay any attention to his mean talk. I know he secretly likes you as much as I do. Fix your lipstick, you're a mess, baby doll. But more drinks first. Mama has her priorities straight."

I feel you release my arm, look away and back to him.

You see him wiggle back into his pants, zip up and fasten his belt.

"Baby, I would never break that thing off. Do you know how much I love it, love you? Hard to find a man that can use that like you do, and one that can handle my dark side, hard to find indeed. And I have to keep you away from all my girlfriends too. Don't think they haven't noticed. And the ones that see you at my secret affairs, they notice, they notice. They all know I'm going steady with the good one. That's what they call you, 'the good one'."

I hear your words trail off, hear your giggly laughter as I hurry to the kitchen.

I taste him all over my mouth, feel some of his cum on the front of my dress. Feel stained, unpretty, submissive and completely helpless. I know that I won't be asked to come to your room tonight, not with him in the house. I focus myself on what's important, pleasing you. My Mistress has told me to do something.

I hurry to bring your drink. His too. His drink I bring for you. Not him.

I am your slave.