He woke first.
He didn't remember falling asleep. He remembered being embraced by her, and pulled toward her breasts, and told to suckle them. He remembered her soothing and encouraging words as he gently sucked on first one nipple and then the other.
She told him how well he had done...how pleased she was so far...how attracted she was to him when he was her slutty little bitch...how much she looked forward to having him for the rest of the weekend....
It felt so secure and loving in her arms. He felt warm and safe there. He knew she desired him for the very side of him he had kept hidden from most women, and all men, for his entire life. What a fantastic find! His mind began to replay the riot of feelings that he had experienced last night. He could not remember ever feeling any emotion so vividly, so completely, even with another Mistress. This one was special. He had to strive hard to keep her interest. He wanted her to want him. He wanted to feel her touch on his body again. He wanted to feel her breath in his ear. Most of all, he wanted her inside him again.
He was tempted to get up. He needed to pee, and smiled at the memory of her sitting on his face and using him as her chamber pot. After relieving himself, he could tip-toe into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee for her. But would she be cross with him if she awoke in her bed alone?
She was already awake, but had kept her eyes shut and her breathing shallow and regular to deceive him. She wanted a moment to savor and reflect on her feelings last night, and to think about the feelings she hoped she had induced in him last night. She wanted him to lust for her, because that would bind his mind closer to her, and it was control of his mind that she was after. Once she had his mind, his body, heart and soul would follow, and she would own him.
Do I want to own him? she asked herself. Probably. Last night he had proven his e-mail claims that he was an experienced submissive. It was obvious that he had been trained to pleasure women in the past, and was pretty good at it. He needed a lot of work in the corporeal department. She could tell he wasn't really a masochist...at least not yet, she told herself with a smile.
She ran her fingernails through his hair, causing him to moan and stir involuntarily. He opened his eyes to look into hers.
"Get up," she said softly. "I want you on your knees next to the bed."
Wordlessly, he scrambled off the bed and onto the carpet, kneeling a few inches from the edge of the bed, facing her. She shifted herself around on the bed so that she was lying across it with her shapely legs hooked over his shoulders. Using her legs, she firmly drew his face closer to her vagina.
"Drink" was her command.
He positioned his lips to receive her beverage, and soon a slow, steady stream of her warm, salty fluid trickled across his tongue and down his throat. He was overwhelmed by the aroma of her pussy, the feel of her calves pulling him in toward her, the taste of her pee, and the utter submission he felt. His painfully full bladder elevated to the sense of being used by her...humiliated, objectified, subjugated.
She lay on the bed, eyes closed, feeling the relief of emptying her bladder into her slave. She could almost feel the power flowing out of him and into her at the same rate that her pee flowed into him. She loved being the Domina and she loved the power exchange.
"Clean," she told him when she was empty, and he licked her pussy clean and dry, arousing her as he did. She allowed herself one orgasm, then put her feet on top of his shoulders and pushed him back.
"Speech restrictions are still ON," she reminded him, as she lifted her head from the mattress to look at him. "Don't say a word."
He nodded, thinking about the growing urgency in his bladder and bowels. He wondered if she was hoping that he'd have an accident.
"Listen carefully," she added. "I'll only say it once. First, you will go to the kitchen and begin brewing my coffee. Next, you will come back in here and clean up my toys. You will take my strap-on into the bathroom, and thoroughly clean it with the antiseptic soap. You will not stop to eat anything or drink anything, or to use the toilet. When my strap-on is clean and dry, you will return here, kneel, and present me with my clean cock. Understood?"
He nodded and left for the Kitchen. She smiled as she watched him walk naked with his erect and unsatisfied cock bobbing up and down as he walked out, and again a few moments later when he returned to pick up his torn red panties and the soiled latex surgical gloves she had used on him last night. He disposed of them, and then picked up the clothespins, crop and a few other odds and ends, putting them on the dresser to which she silently she pointed. He finally picked up her strap-on and carried it into the bathroom. She heard the sink faucet turned on.
She closed her eyes, and summoned the image from last night of that strap-on cock sliding in and out of him, and his surrender to it. His initial screams had turned to moans, and he had eventually begun to thrust his hips back as she thrust forward. Her hands had been gripping his hips to guide the penetration, and she thought she had felt a rhythmic convulsion running through his body just as she herself had climaxed.
Yes, he had potential. She was hoping he would be a keeper. It had been too long without a personal slave to worship her, and she hoped that the drought would end with this candidate. She had grown rather fond of him over the past few months of e-mailing and phone calls. She had enjoyed his wry sense of humor, his interest in the arts, and she had especially enjoyed the intellectual discourse and the flirty banter they had shared. Besides, she reminded herself, he had a really cute ass, and legs that might make some women jealous. Using those assets to her maximum advantage was part of her plan....
He returned with the strap-on and knelt, holding it out to her with outstretched arms. After a short pause, she raised her head from the pillow and glanced at the black rubber phallus she had used to fuck him last night.
"Good job," she said. "Now go get my coffee. Just a drop of cream, no sugar."
He nodded, jumped to his feet, and gave her another view of his stiff, bouncing cock. A moment later, he stood next to the bed with a mug of coffee. She took the mug, sipped at the coffee, and nodded.
"Good," she muttered. "Kneel."
He knelt.
"Does my little slave bitch need to go potty?" she asked in a teasing, taunting voice.
He nodded vigorously.
"Would the slave like to beg Goddess to go potty?"
He nodded harder and longer.
"You will go into the bathroom; you will keep the door open so I can watch and listen. You will sit on the toilet seat. You will go both ways. When you are done, you will immediately get into the shower to shampoo and wash yourself. You will then return to kneel here...and you'd better be back before I finish this cup of coffee. Now go!"
Fifteen minutes later he was back. She had him fetch another cup of coffee, and sent him into the bathroom again to shave and brush his teeth. When he returned, she arose majestically from the bed, grabbed his still-damp hair, raised him to a standing position, and led him to her dresser. From the drawers she removed a matching pair of black lacy panties and bra, a black lace garter belt, and a pair of matching thigh-high stockings.
"You will help me dress," she said, pushing his head down until he was kneeling in front of her. "Hold the panties out for me."
