The Mystery Mistress

The Anonymous Mistress

Prologue:

In case this is the first of my stories you've read, there are a few things I've skipped over in this story. I tend to write a story after almost all of my sessions with my toys. But I publish very few of them online.

My name is Pepper Rodgers. I'm a 19-year-old Domme, living downtown Mobile, Alabama. I have a decently well-stocked playroom in the second bedroom of my fourth-floor apartment (most of my neighbors are corporate types who aren't always around, giving me a lot of privacy, even in the halls and elevators). I also have a decently stocked toybox. I prefer my toys to be older than I am, around 30-42 years old. I prefer men for myself, however not for my toybox. When it comes to toys, I find women and couples to be far more amusing. Single men tend to be needier, and often too clingy. But that doesn't mean I don't have a few of them in my toybox. I do. They just don't have the same chances of getting there as couples and single women do.

I'm petite. Actually more "tiny" that petite. I'm 5' 1.75" and 91 pounds. I'm not bony, though, I've curvy, like a small-sized woman. I have blond hair down to my shoulders and blue eyes. Oh, and my chest is the only place I'm not small. I'm a 32-D, and I'm very pert. Which makes me popular with the boys.

I'm also slightly bisexual. I'm attracted to men, not women. I would never choose a female partner for even a date, let alone for sex. But I'm not opposed to masturbating with a female toy. Sophie happens to be my favorite sex toy to pleasure myself with. Her tongue has two big advantages over my vibrator: one, it's very delicate and tender. Two, no matter how much I use it, its batteries never die at the worst possible moment! It's better than fresh bunny batteries, it just keeps going until I want it to stop. And I don't even have to hold it in place!

When I want sex I never use one of my toys. I never allow a toy touch, or even see, all of me. And I never bring a toy to my bedroom. Nor do I chose a woman. I pick a man, usually one I find in a club or cafe, or wherever. I flirt, dance dirty a little and if he meets my standards, I ask if he's interested in a one-time-only, no-names-exchanged, hook-up. I've never been turned down.

I have a few standards for my hook-ups. I never pick a guy I know or even just see around. And I insist on a cock between 7 and 9" long and 1.5" across, plus or minus a small bit. I won't touch a guy who isn't circumcised, either. I hate the way the foreskin feels inside me. I want to feel that fat head. The dirty dancing gives me plenty of time to tease a guy hard and feel for myself what he's got. It's the only way not to be disappointed. Guys always lie about their equipment!

Sophie is my 19-year-old live-in slave-girl. She's slightly petite at 5'4" and 119 pounds. She's pretty, too, with long honey-blond hair, green eyes, and a 34-B chest. Sophie is extremely devoted to me. So devoted, and so happy as my slave, that despite not being attracted to women, she's a virgin with men. She serves and pleasures only me, and those I give her to. And while I use her, even with my male toys, I won't allow any man to touch her pussy or penetrate her bottom. Those are mine. Only mine. I've owned her since she graduated high school, but I've known her longer. Since about two months after her 18th birthday, which was also about two months before she finished high school.

I have three BFFs, (Isabelle, Reagan, and Ellie) none of whom are into my little games. But all of whom occasionally creep into my stories. After all, they are my BFFs so they tend to be around. Luckily they're not offended by anything they happen to see. They're just not eager for me to put on a show on their account.

I also have a circle of five other women friends, all of whom are Dommes as well. Andrea (26), Janelle (35), Colette (39), Diane (43), and Olive (44). we usually get together every couple of weeks for coffee and a little chat about who's doing what to whom lately. We sometimes share, or loan, our toys to each other, but not that often. Sometimes we do a favor for each other, such as providing something different for a toy. Mostly we do what girls do: we gossip.

I get all of my toys through networking. It's almost always either one of the women in our circle who has a toy she doesn't want and offers to point it at another who is interested. Or sometimes one of my toys tells someone, who tells someone, and so on until someone asks my toy to introduce someone to me. Rarely it's someone I don't play with, but who knows what I'm into, who asks me to meet someone. I get plenty of emails inquiring about meeting me, and while I will email and maybe chat with a sub online, I haven't yet met any. I won't rule it out, but meeting online is risky enough that someone would have to convince me before I'd think about it. A girl's gotta be careful!

[Note: Mistress Pepper and Sophie are "anonymized" versions of me and my slave-girl. The real me. All of my stories are (or should I say will be) my memories of a session with a sub. Thus, they are true stories, only in this version details have been changed to protect the sub. I do live in Mobile about 10 months of the year (the remaining two I spend in Nizhny Novgorod, Russia, where my father is from and lives), and almost all of my subs live in Mobile or a bordering county. I'm originally from Baldwin County, next door to Mobile. I moved across the bay to attend USA. As is/did Mistress Pepper. But I'm not a blond. And you'll most definitely have to guess at my bra size! Enjoy the story!]

It's a Saturday evening and I've decided to test out a new frame. This frame, like most of the braces I have to bind my toys to, was built by a couple of accommodating frat boys to my design. It's for men.

Its main part is a heavy wooden square 12-by-12 inches. That's affixed to two heavy steel square tubes that rise up from the front of a base that about five feet wide and three feet long. Two more of the heavy tubes extend downward at an angle from the bottom of the square to the corners of the base. Then two more run from the top corners of the square backward, angling down to the base. The wood square has only one real feature, a two-inch diameter hole in it.

To test my toy out, I've summoned Mark and Callie, a couple who have been my toys for some time now. As is always the case, as soon as they arrived here Sophie, my 19-year-old live-in slave-girl promptly had them strip naked and locked their clothes away in the file cabinet I keep just for that. Then she brought them to me in the playroom.

Callie is 20 years old. She's a slightly tallish woman at 5'9" but curvy at 132 pounds. She has light blond hair that's straight and hangs to her shoulders. She has a pretty, somewhat rounded, face with brilliant blue eyes, a slightly wide nose, and a wide mouth framed with full medium-pink lips. She also has a set of full and firm 36-B breasts topped with light pink nipples like pencil erasers. She has a full bush of dense blond curls, trimmed into a neat triangle with straight lines inside the creases of her thighs, and bottom that curves into a very rounded point just above a very pump pussy mound with long, wide, lips. Callie is on her knees with her face in the corner, waiting until I summon her.

Mark is 22-years-old. He's around 6" tall and has a lean build that's definitely muscular. Then again, he does work at the shipyards where hard work is the norm. He has scruffy, but short, medium blond hair and blue eyes. His chest is almost hairless, his thighs covered with a blond fur, but on his pubes, there's a dense mat of medium-brown curls around his cock. And a pair of large balls hanging behind that cock.

As soon as Sophie brought Mark in, I took hold of him and moved him to stand on the platform, his hips against the wooden square of the frame. I had him spread his feet wide, all the way to the corners where the angled bars meet the edges of the platform.

I tied him. Starting with an ankle, I used a long piece of hemp rope, wrapping three coils snugly around his ankle and tying it off. Then I wrapped loop after loop around both his leg and the brace, winding coils all the way to the edge of the square. I tied the rope off. With the loops lying one against the next, it leaves his leg visible only from the ankle down and about two inches before the crease of his thigh. I did the same with his other leg.

Then I used thumb-wide leather straps to secure his hips. One looped through holes in the square and pulled tight at the crease of each thigh. A wider strap, like a belt, through two more holes, and across his hips just above the top of his butt crack. And finally a narrower, finger-thick strap through two more holes and pulled tight across his sack. Just above his hanging balls where it holds his scrotum firmly against the square.

His cock sticks out straight and hard through the hole in the center of the square. His hands are cuffed behind his neck; to make sure they stay there, I've looped the chain of the cuff under a baby-blue training collar on his neck. He can move them enough to squirm, but they're not coming away from his neck. So they're not reaching anything.

His cock is definitely not as manly as the rest of him. Still, it's not a bad one. I've measured it. It's 5.3" long and 1.4" thick, which puts it just barely over the average mark. It's not circumcised, which means little on a toy.

I take the tip of a feather and lightly tease it over the tip of his cock, swirling it slowly around the bit of the cock's head that's bare above that useless foreskin. It gets a hard twitching shudder from Mark. The bonds do their job, holding his hips virtually immobile against the square. The square isn't moving, either. So his cock stays put, too. As his hips jerk against the bonds, Mark realizes that it's going to be a very long and even more teasing night for him. He lets out a long groan.

I grin wide. "That's right, my little boy toy. That tiny cock isn't going anywhere! And it will be waiting until some whim to see it cum all over the place strikes me!" I tease the tip of it again. Mark groans again. I swat one of his hard cheeks with the tip of my crop. Mark sucks a crisp breath in as he feels the sting. I giggle, "Yup, your bottom is just so bare, too! That way I can spank it when you're a naughty boy!"

I don't touch his cock. He likes the feel of my hand on it way too much for that. I just let the brace keep him perfectly still and in place, his cock jutting straight out in empty air, for me. And I tease its tip with the feather. Each tease gets a crisp jerking twitch from his cock. It makes his hips shudder hard against the brace. And makes him groan, at least between purring moans. His hands thrash a bit, the cuffs keeping them at the back of his neck and away from what they want to touch.

I've only been at a few minutes, less than ten when I hear my phone ringing. It's the ring tone reserved for my actual friends. The people whose calls I don't want to miss. I just wave my hand towards the ringing and Sophie takes that as her cue to hurry over and answer it for me. My true friends, the only ones with that number, know me well. All of them have seen enough of Sophie. None would be the least surprised by Sophie playing secretary (or anything else) for me. In fact, they're far more likely to be surprised if she isn't playing a secretary.

I don't pay any attention to Sophie or the call she's answering. I focus on teasing Mark. I have to reach up under the square to get to his balls, but I can do that easily. I can't resist the urge to tease those as well. I caress the edge of the feather over his balls, below the strap. The strap holds his sack snug against the brace, letting his balls dangle free while lying against it. Mark jerks his hips hard at the tease. His balls don't move a bit. He groans loudly as he shivers. I tease them again.

Then Sophie comes and kneels down beside me. Seeing the phone in her hand, I assume this call is one I want to take. I give her permission to speak and she tells me that it's my friend Ms. Von Grubener on the phone, who wishes to speak to me if possible.

Diane Von Grubener is a 45-year-old Dutch woman. I met her through my friend Nikolai. Like Nikolai, she's a strong Domme. Like me, too. We get along rather well, even though Diane is more interested in the "SM" part of "BDSM," while I'm more interested in the "BD" part of it.

I take the call. I'm sure Sophie would have told her that I have a toy here now, so if Diane wants Sophie to interrupt that, she clearly has something up her sleeve. I can't think of why else she'd want Sophie to interrupt me. By Domme-etiquette that would be so rude.

She begins with an apology for interrupting my "amusement." Then she asks if I'll still be occupied in about 90 minutes, or if I might have time to do her a favor this evening. She outlines what she has in mind. I think about her idea, which sounds very amusing. Then I think about Mark and Callie. 90 minutes is plenty to test out my new frame, which was my purpose tonight. I'm certain that 90 minutes like this would seem like an eternity for poor Mark. But I can be "evil." I decide they could be useful, and I decide that Mark won't mind suffering even more of this than I'd planned. I'm sure they won't mind if I use them. They wouldn't be here if they didn't enjoy being used. So I tell her I'm up for it.

With 90 minutes I have plenty of time to get things ready. I summon Callie out of her corner and put her on her knees in front of Mark. I tell her to give his cock a single stroke with her mouth. I've taught Callie to give a very good blow job. The kind Mark spends his days boasting to other guys about.

As I stand over her, Callie stretches her mouth wide and puts it to the tip of his cock. She lets the very tip of lie atop her tongue. Then she moves her head forward slowly. As she moves his cock slides along her tongue towards the back of her mouth. Then it slips down further to her throat. And then it slips into her throat, stretching her taut as her throat muscles snuggle hard against his shaft. She keeps going until her lips touch his pubes. Never once, not even for a fraction of a second, does she break her smooth rhythm. Not even as this thickness forces its way into her tight throat. Nor does she gag on it. Mark purrs a very sweet moan as she takes him into her hot mouth.

Then she backs off just as slowly, reversing with the same smoothness. She backs off just as slowly and steadily, holding her mouth wide open. It glides along her tongue, slipping from her mouth until only it's very tip is left. Then that too slips off of her tongue. Callie closes her mouth and kneels, awaiting instructions.

I give her the feather. I tell her to tease the full length of his shaft with it, never stopping. I tell her to keep the feather moving over his cock, slowly and steadily. And that no matter how much twitching and jumping around his shaft does, The feather isn't to leave it. She starts at its base, slowly drawing the feather up his length. His cock jump. The feather stays along it. It keeps stroking its soft bristles over the sensitive flesh. His cock keeps jumping. Callie keeps the feather on it. Mark groans deeply with abject frustration through his erotic moans.

I have Sophie start getting ready for what Diane asked me to do for her.

Callie strokes the feather along Mark's cock, keeping it jumping around. After two minutes I tell her to stop stroking his shaft just long enough to give it another single suck. Then it's back to feather teasing. I repeat that rhythm, having Callie suck him once about every two minutes.

Ninety minutes later, when my doorbell rings, Mark is still standing there with his hard cock sticking out through the hole while Callie teases and sucks on it. He's all but crying, squirming and struggling hard against the bonds that hold his hips still. His hands rattle the chain of his cuffs loudly as they try to get to his cock. His unbound chest and shoulders thrash all over the place. He moans urgently and groans even louder. But there's nothing he can do other than stand there and suffer the teases.

I send Sophie to answer the door. Once she's out of the room, I send Callie back to her corner. I leave Mark bound where he is. He cries out, his groan a mixture of frustration and relief as Callie's torment comes to an end. For now.

I don't do many favors for Diane. It's not that I'm not on her "A-list," it's just that what she's into doesn't often lend itself to needing a favor like this. So I've never met Michelle, the woman she's sending to me tonight. I haven't a clue what to expect. I didn't even ask. Diane isn't my closest Domme friend, but she knows me well enough to know what my interests and standards are. And I trust her not to even ask if she knows the toy doesn't meet at least my standards.

While I prefer my play toys in the 30-42 age range, my standards are looser. I'll consider anyone over 18. I don't really have a hard top-end age limit, but I don't take toys that look to be much over about 45, regardless of how old they actually are. I wouldn't care if a toy was 60 if it looked like it was 40 and could handle what a 40-year-old could handle. Otherwise, my standards only limit toys to being "healthy." Or should I say excluding the fat, the slobbish, those with any illness that would affect their ability to endure, or those with mental issues.

Sophie isn't out of the playroom for even a minute before she comes running back in and hurries to kneel before me. She's giggling, but trying to hold it back. Whatever it is, it looks to be urgent, at least to her. I tell her to speak. She begs me to come to the door.

Sophie has answered my door for over a year now. It would take a computer just to count how many times she's let a toy in and taken its clothes. Never once has she come to get me. I motion her to go ahead of me and wonder what could be so far outside the instructions I've given her that she wants me.

When I get to the living room I see what it is. The UPS delivery guy is standing there. At least he's a guy in a UPS uniform. He has a dolly beside him. On it is a huge cardboard box. By huge I mean at least three feet tall and two-by-two feet wide. Idly I wonder just how big of a box UPS will ship. This box has got to be at the limit.

I ask what it is. "Got me." He says, "but it's awfully heavy." Even as he speaks to me, his eyes are on Sophie. I'm sure that's because Sophie is wearing one of the all-lace stretchy dresses I bought her. Dresses that bare reach from her breasts to an inch below her bottom, their lace not really covering much of anything. Sophie's an attractive honey-blond, too. Since I'm wearing a designer business skirt-suit, I don't have to wonder why he's so much more interested in Sophie. He's busy trying to see through the little spaces in the lace and see her breasts and pussy. I'm sure he's succeeding, too.

He hands me the clipboard to sign for the box. Before I can think about reaching for it, Sophie takes it from him. I wouldn't have taken it anyway, and Sophie knows that. She tells me it's from Diane. She signs "Ms. Rodgers' slave-girl" in place of her signature and hands the board back to the driver. He glances at it but doesn't notice what she signed. So typical. She could have signed "Minnie Mouse" and no one would notice until someone complained about a missing package.

He politely offers to bring it in for me, since it's so heavy. I gladly accept, and he dollies the box in. I give Sophie a wink. She points him to the empty place along the wall that I leave empty for undressing toys. As he sets the box there and slips his dolly free of it, Sophie stands close to him, letting her body, and twice her breasts, covered only with the thin lace, brush against him. She bats her eyelashes as she thanks him politely.