Tasha My Teenage Mistress Ch 01

The first time I ever met her was six months ago, and ever since that day, I have had a secret submissive, even "taboo" crush and fantasy about her. I say taboo because she is the 18-year-old friend of my cousin's daughter. Although legal in the eye of the law, my own guilt, shame and sane non-perverted mind tells me I should not be thinking of her in such ways even though my feelings are non-sexual in the traditional sense.

So, you might be wondering why a 45-year-old man was often thinking about this teenage fantasy woman? A woman who, in my fantasy-filled, perverted mind, is my all-powerful Mistress and owner? Well, seeing Tasha walking into my cousin's garden that Friday afternoon, when they returned from college, made me feel like a rabbit caught in a car's headlights. Hopefully, I did not let my mouth drop open to the extent it was apparent. Seeing this 6ft tall "what I later learned," physically perfect teenage Goddess walking towards me made my already short, insecure around beautiful women self feel about 6-inches tall.

Walking towards me with all the confidence in the world, staring straight at me. I feel my face burning red as I sit alone at the garden table until I inevitable drop my eyes to the floor. Walking up to me without any hesitation at meeting a stranger for the first time, she looks me up and down, turns to Kim. "you were right about him, Kim." Turning from me, they both walk into the house, leaving me alone again sat at the garden table to the sounds of girlish giggles. "What did she mean? "Kim was right?"

Now, with many conflicting thoughts whirling around my mind. On the one hand, I knew Tasha was a college girl the same age as Kim, and if like Kim, she will have likely just turned 18. But, WOW, she did not have the typical 18-year-old aura about her. Her height alone was a WOW factor to me, "me who has always loved tall women."

I was not only knocked off my feet with her been 6-inches taller than me; it was also her jaw-dropping good looks. Then there was how she walked, OMG. The way she walked up the garden path with her bag made her look like a catwalk model modelling the latest college uniform and "must-have" bag the way she glided across the garden path. Swishing her hips and making that pleated green skirt of the all-girls sixth-form college uniform dance across the legs, hips and butt.

I know I might be sounding borderline perverted freak by now, but I would bet anyone, male, female, young or old, to be around her and not be in awe of her Goddess like presence. By this time, I had known of her for only two minutes, but already hypnotised; in love, in lust, I do not know, I just know I needed to be on my knees at her feet confessing my middle-aged sins to her.

I am not sure if this is just my imagination at work? But looking back at the first time we met, I like to imagine Tasha could have walked up to me that day and told me to lick dogshit off of her shiny black T-bar shoes. If she had done that, I like to think I would have dropped to my knees there and then and done the sickening task without fault. To make her shoes spotlessly clean to please her just before she would turn and walk away from me in disgust whilst I struggle to not vomit up the disgusting muck in my belly.

Fast forward a couple of hours, and I was now feeling awkward at being around Tasha whilst sat here with the others. Trying not to come across as odd or staring at her, feeling like she could see through my soul and knowing what I was about, I decided to go home. Usually, I would have stayed, having some food and drink with them, but I made excuses about being tired and left early.

Getting home to sleep was the last thing on my mind, not a chance of sleeping. I had a perverted submissive fantasy burning in me, and I needed to extinguish it. Within five minutes of walking into my house, the PC was logged on. So began my first night of ever fantasising about Tasha, my teenage fantasy Mistress. That night soon became the early morning as the light came through the blinds, and the birds started to sing outside when I finally sprayed my perverted dirty shame over my hand whilst scrolling through Tasha's online profile pictures. Logging off the PC and going to the toilet to take a piss before getting a few hours sleep, I realised how sore my cock now was; it actually hurt to piss from the hours and hours of rubbing it and edging it for so long. I guess this is sort of a punishment for me at perving her pictures.

The following weeks I had Tasha, "Mistress Tasha," on my mind a lot. I was not obsessed, though. I was still scrolling through endless amounts of online porn with no connection to her at all. But then, the younger FemDom fantasy would come to mind, "mainly" due to reading similarly themed stories on Literotica. When this happens, I find myself shamefully scrolling through her Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter pictures like that first night. I am not sure why, but it gives me a naughty thrill to be looking at what I should not look at. Not that there was anything rude to see like I envisioned in my fantasies. In my mind, I had visions of Mistress Tasha's profiles being filled with pictures of her wearing latex dominatrix outfits, knee-high patent leather boots with heels that could kill whilst her whips and canes skinned the backsides of old perverts like me. But no, her profiles were very much typical of an 18-year-old girl sharing pictures on a public profile, like photos from the last day of high school showing off signed shirts and skirts, pictures of girls being girls out shopping and for clothes and just hanging out, then more recently out in the bars and clubs getting drunk Etc.

Although I had the fantasy image in my mind of Tasha wearing a typical fetish dominatrix outfit, I did fantasise about being her collared and leashed slave being lead around by her whilst she wears her college uniform. Paraded around the campus for all those teenage girls to see and laugh at, maybe they would even envy Tasha for having a slave. Endless possible scenarios. Perhaps I might have been her submissive lecturer, and she takes advantage of my submissive side. Maybe I would be the wealthy businessman under her control, paying her to stop her from informing the world that I am a dirty old pervert. She would have all the pictures, video, written and spoken evidence on me to humiliate me in front of everyone. Too many fantasy scenarios to mention; I would be here for a month writing them down if I did.

Endless fantasies later, but even today, months after first meeting her, I have never once imagined or wanted sex with her. My submissive desires turn me on a lot, but I do not want sex with her or other dommes I see online and imagine subbing to. To me, it is all about the humiliation of wanting a woman to control me and deny me whilst making me sub to her whims. The idea of a younger Mistress just adds to the shame of it all; I am sure many can relate to this? Can't you?

It was four weeks later when I next met Tasha. I was at my cousin's BBQ party on a hot Saturday afternoon. After a hard week of work, it was great to be able to relax in the sun without a care in the world, enjoying the food, beer and company. I was acting my typical jokey loud and the centre of attention-seeking self I love to be when she walked into the back garden with Kim. Within a split second after seeing her, I felt very self-conscious and nervous at her being here, but at the same time excited beyond words at seeing her again. Like a shy boy scared of a bully, I stopped talking, laughing and joking and just sat there red-faced and quiet while sipping on a drink and trying to act normal. I have no idea why I was like this around her. Either way, she has affected me in ways others have not.

For the next hour or so, other guests arrived, and we all hung around eating and drinking and having a good time doing what people do at summer garden parties. I was there physically, but also in another world of my own making at the moment. I could not think of anything other than my secret fantasy, Domme, who was currently in front of my eyes. Tasha was walking around, socialising and being very friendly with everyone she met. I noticed how she was catching admiring glances from others whilst she was not looking in their direction, to be expected considering what she was wearing. I know I am a perverted loser, arse-stain for having my fantasies about her, but I felt slightly vindicated at having these thoughts when I see how others perve at her too.

My sane, sensible side says to stop being a freak and act and think normal around her. Then the over horny odd side tells me she looks like she has just come from a glamour/ porno shoot going by what she is wearing now. So what if she is 6ft tall, long blond hair, stunning and in perfect physical gym-toned shape. Or that she is wearing a "tiny" pleated red tartan mini-skirt that is 10-inches above her knees, or that the sheer white silk crop top that shows off her perfectly sculptured belly. A belly that is adorned with a jewelled belly button piercing. Then there are those gleaming white patent leather knee boots with a 6-inch heel. "boots I can not help but imagine licking."

"Damn, I need a cold drink to get my head straight!" I say to myself. She must have read my mind because looking up, I notice her walking over to me for only the second time since first meeting her. I feel like a fly caught in a spider's web about to be devoured. Seeing her glide towards me, I can't help but notice the friendly look she has had for everyone else seems to have vanished. Seconds later, she faces me and looks down on my 5ft 6-inch tall self with an air of disdain.

"Hi, Tasha! Nice to meet you again." With no attempt to being social with me, she bluntly says.

"Timmy boy! I need a drink, be useful will you and go fetch me a fresh one, NOW!"

Taken aback at her manner, I can't help but blurt out, "What? Oh, okay, Tasha. What can I get you?"

With a look of annoyance and total arrogance, she gets even closer to my red face and says.

"Are you stupid or something? Have you not been paying attention to what I was drinking? Pfff, It is a white wine, Chop chop."

Feeling even smaller than I already did, I pretty much run to fetch her wine after apologising, saying, "Sorry, Tasha, of course." Five minutes later, returning to the garden with the drink in my nervous hand, I can not see Tasha anywhere. Seeing Kim, I go over to ask where she is.

With a humiliating, even mocking tone, my second cousin Kim seems happy at seeing and speaking to me for the first time today.

"Hi! Timmy Tim. It looks like someone is a good boy and fetching drinks, Hehehe."

Red-faced at the way she speaks, I shrug it off and ask where Tasha is.

"Tasha had to go to the bathroom. She said to tell you to take her wine up to her if you get back before she returns. She is in my en-suite. You had best hurry up with her drink; she hates warm wine."

Thinking this is getting weird, I go upstairs to Kims personal en-suite. Just as I walk into the bedroom, I see the door to the en-suite open and Tasha walking out. Once again, and with total contempt for me, she blurts out without any hesitation.

"About time, lackey boy! My wine had best not be warm!"

Handing it to her whilst saying, "It should be fine; I was only 5 minutes." If looks could kill, I would now be dead at the evil, intimidating glare she gives me. She did not have to tell me to watch my tongue. Thinking to myself, "What an idiot I am. Why was I letting this 18-year-old girl/beautiful Brat be so arrogant and disrespectful to me? Especially when I have been nothing but polite to her?" All I know is that she is like a hypnotic drug or something, and I can't help but obey her. Damn, my weak male will. Noticing she already has a full glass of white wine, I am confused about why she wanted a new one??

Taking a sip of her new fresh cold wine, she hands me her old full glass saying.

"Here you go, Tim Tim, my old wine is too warm and stale, but you can have it. I am sure your dull old pallet won't mind it, will it?"

Even though I do not drink much wine, I thank her and take her old glass. My God! Her hands must be like an oven going by how warm the full glass of stale white wine is. Staring straight into my eyes as she sips on her own cool drink, she indicates for me to do the same and tells me to drink it.

"Drink up, Timmy! I hate wasting anything, and I want to know you drank it all and was not a little waster. So, drink it."

Not being a wine fan, especially when it feels like it has just been poured from a hot water tap, I put the warm glass to my lips and take a big swig of it in the hope this strange uncomfortable situation is "soon" over with. Swallowing half the glass down fast in one whole gulp, just to get the drink done with, I can't help but react to the gross flavour, Cough cough, "WHAT THE FUCK I shout, THAT IS PISS!!" Showing little emotion to my sudden shock discovery, she steps forward on her high heeled boots and slaps me across the face hard with her left hand.

"I know it is, idiot, and you still have half a glass to finish off too. GET TO IT!"

"NO WAY BITCH!" I shout at her.

Like a bolt of lightning, she grabs between my legs and squeezes hard!! "ARRGGGG, NOOOO PLEASEEEEE!!" I squeal as she tightens her beautiful slim, but strong fingers around my denim jean covered balls. Now threatening to dig her beautiful talon-like manicured nails into the tender area millimetres under jeans. Cool as a cucumber, she takes another sip of her own wine, all whilst slightly tightening the grip and twisting my abused balls with her other hand. Without taking her fierce, dark soul-destroying eyes off mine, she indicates that I finish the hot pissy drink. Defeated, I nod to her and slowly take another big gulp and feel the salty, sour fluid run down my throat whilst thinking to myself, "What the hell is happening?????" Finally, finishing this evil hot piss drink, I feel her grip loosen, to my relief and also to the assumed pleasure of Tasha, because with an almost friendly look on her face, she smiles at me and says.

"Now Tim Tim, that was not so bad was it? You see, obeying my orders is easy and ultimately less painful for you, don't you agree?"

In a bewildered state of mind, I can only think to say, "Yes, Mistre, I mean, yes, Tasha, it was not so bad." Looking even more pleased and amused with herself, she says.

"Oh, Timmy boi, You nearly got it right the first time without me telling you. What you meant to say was YES, Mistress Tasha, it was not so bad. Thank you for allowing me to drink your piss; it was lovely."

Moving closer to me again and changing her look back to the meaner and intimidating stare again, she says.

"Now! piss-breath, let's try that again, and make it convincing to me."

OMG! with my face burning hotter than the sun, I say what she wants to hear "Yes! Mistress Tasha, your pee drink was lovely. Thank you for letting me taste it." Gripping my face in one hand, she squeezes it painfully and cuts into me again with her scary eyes whilst saying.

"Good, sissy. You seem to be a quick learner. Kim was right about you; you are a natural beta submissive and are trainable."

Loosening her grip on my jaw, she tells me that there will be "many" more piss cocktails in my future and much more besides. "But for now, sissy Timmy, she tells me to kneel!"

Like a human drone controlled by someone else, I drop to my knees and come face to face with her pleated skirt. Turning away from me, I think Mistress Tasha is about to walk out of the room and leave me there alone, wondering what happened and what to do next. But I did not have to wonder for too long. In front of me was her glorious skirt covered butt, a butt that looked like it had been exercised daily for years to sculpture it to the shape it is now. Even under the pleated fabric, I knew it would be a fantastic sight to behold, and it is. She steps without a word and pushes her satin panty-clad ass into my face, and says.

"SNIFF IT SHIT HEAD! I SAID SNIFF IT, LET ME HEAR THAT NOSE INHALING MY STINK." She virtually shouts.

Lost in a nightmarish yet fantasy-like moment that does not seem real, I can only obey her at this moment in time. sniffffff, snifffffffffffffffff sniffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. What the hell am I doing????????? SNIFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF SNIFFFFFF. I nearly pass out from the overwhelming unreal, gross, yet so-so- exciting situation.

Currently lost in a world of confused, bliss-like humiliation rolled into one fantastic dreamlike moment. My cock is rock hard in my jeans. She must have guessed as much because I suddenly feel her high heeled boot nudge between my legs and press on my iron-like hardness. Not enough to cause me pain, just enough to let me know she knows I am stiff and under her control. Now, with her grinding her stinky panty covered ass-crack up and down my pig-life sniffing nose, she mocking tells me.

"We were both right about you; you sure are a dirty little sex fiend, aren't you? That is not just my asshole; you are sniffing and loving at the moment. No! that is also my unwiped asshole you are inhaling, and it seems little Mr tic-tac under my boot heel loves it too, doesn't he?"

I can't deny it and act on autopilot mode of a perverted male mind; I can only agree and say, "My God!! Yes, Mistress Tasha, I love it!! I love it and worship you and every part of you. Your shit and piss are superior to me; It is an honour and a privilege to be allowed to sniff your most private of places and drink your secondhand liquids. I am a slave, your slave to do with as you choose." Feeling her press her shit stinking ass cleft harder into my nose and face, I hear her say.

"Glad to hear it, and yes, you are correct; my bowel candy is superior to you. Now follow me and crawl on your knees!"

Stepping away from my face, I am blinded by the sun filling Kims girlish room. At the same time, my nose is assaulted by the pungent aroma of feminine perfumes and makeup. I had not noticed the scent when I stepped into this room only minutes earlier, a scent that is now mixed in with a more earthy and dirty smell filling my senses. On my hands and knees, I crawl the few feet behind Mistress Tasha until she stops at the door to the En-suite. Taking the handle, she opens the door whilst stepping to the side and says.

"inside you go, sissy Timmy!"

For a few short seconds, I notice the slight pain of crawling across a hard tiled floor. That thought is soon forgotten about when I realise the bathroom stinks evil. It does not take a genius to know why. Mistress Tasha has taken a shit in the toilet minutes earlier; of course, she has; she told me she had not wiped her asshole. OMG, this stink is awful. How can the smell of her unwiped anus turn me on so much, but now in here, breathing in her shit fumes, do I want to gap and rush out into the fresh air???

Looking around, feeling lost and not having a clue what to think or do. I hear Mistress Tasha's heels on the tiled floor and breaks my confused thoughts. Looking up at her, I see she is holding 4 pairs of white socks knee-length socks. "Why does she have them?" I think to myself. A few minutes later, I know exactly why she has them; One pair is used to tie my arms together behind my back, the 2nd has been tied around my neck while the other two have been connected together to make longer. Finally, she ties the one end to the collar part and then with the free end, she loops it behind the toilet bowl, pulls it tight and ties it off, securing me tightly with my face pulled into the toilet bowl itself. I am now staring into the recently used shit stinking bowl. To add insult to injury, Mistress Tasha has decided not to flush the toilet. Inches from my face are pieces of girl sewage floating in the water and a thick brown smear down the back of the bowl.