Sinful Tutoring Lesson 03

Yet another piece inspired by the amazing Synful Mistress. Check her out if you haven't already. You won't be disappointed.

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After Mistress Syn left, I remained on the floor of my dorm for a while, trying in vain to wrap my head around what had happened.

My chest still ached from the smothering she had put me through, and my mind reeled with the knowledge that, once again, there was nothing I could do about my situation. I was completely and utterly fucked, and she knew it.

The fact that, regardless of everything, my cock was still hard just thinking about Mistress Syn and her continued humiliation and domination of me spoke volumes, and I knew that even if there were a way to get out of this mess, odds were I would never be able to bring myself to do so.

She'd said it herself. She'd broken me, in more ways than one.

I cleaned myself up and tried to get settled, but my eyes kept going back to the key she had left behind, as well as what it meant. She wanted me to clean her dorm this weekend, and if I didn't do a good job, I was going to be in trouble.

The strange part was, I was kind of into that. The idea of being 'punished' by Mistress Syn was further fuel to the flame of submission she had lit during our first 'lesson', and though it likely would not be all that enjoyable, the idea refused to leave my mind for the rest of the week.

Eventually, the weekend arrived, and once it did, I found myself standing out her door.

It was early- way earlier than I would normally but up and around on the weekend, but I had no desire to be spotted by anyone and questioned as to who I was and what I was doing there, key or not. There were way too many possible questions, none of which I wanted to answer.

The entire walk there, I wondered if she was indeed gone for the weekend, or if this was just some sort of trick or test. It honestly could have been either, but the only way I would find out was by opening her door and stepping inside.

I was just terrified to do so.

Everything was moving so quickly, almost non-stop since Mistress Syn had stepped into my dorm only a week and a half ago, and even now I had a hard time truly getting a handle on things. What had begun as a simple tutoring gig had spiraled into a mess of physical, mental and financial domination and submission, as well as copious amounts of blackmail.

And yet, I knew there was nothing I could do. The train was moving, I was just along for the ride.

So I slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

At first glance, the dorm didn't look all that different from my own on the other side of campus. Small living room, bathroom, kitchen and bedroom. But whereas mine looked like one belonging to any other random College student, Mistress Syn had clearly made hers her own.

The walls were painted purple, with fairy lights and vines snaking all around them. Horror movie posters and framed pentagrams hung on them, continuing to hammer in her more demonic and twisted tastes.

Likewise, the familiar scent of her stinky feet was heavy in the air, courtesy of several well-worn boots sitting beside the door, and it sent shivers down my spine. Mistress Syn may not be around this weekend, but her presence was definitely being felt even just standing in her doorway.

I quickly shut the door and locked it behind me, then stared at the place I was expected to clean over the next two days. It didn't seem too bad at first glance, but I had a feeling my Mistress wasn't going to make such a task easy for me.

Within seconds, I was proven right.

On a small side table near her boots, I noticed an envelope with my name on it. Well, not my real name, but rather the one she had given me during our first lesson.

Trinket.

Underneath it were some clothes, but I didn't pay those much mind, instead curious as to what lay within the envelope. It was a message from Mistress Syn, which read:

"My dear Trinket, I hope you don't think you're going to clean my place in your normal clothes. That wouldn't be right. Whores like you need to dress the part, so I left you these, and you BETTER wear them. I'll know if you don't. There are cameras ALL over m dorm, and I'll be checking the feeds while I'm away. Need to make sure you're working hard, and not doing anything naughty like stealing my panties."

The thought had never crossed my mind but now was planted there like a seed made to taunt me. The note continued:

"There will be other notes around, telling you EXACTLY what I expect you to do. The first one should be on the floor by the door. Happy cleanings!"

I slipped the note into my pocket and looked around. I couldn't see any cameras and considered for a second the possibility that she was lying. That thought quickly vanished, however, as I realized if she wasn't and I did anything stupid, she would know, and I'd be in even more trouble than I already was.

In the same vein, if there were, then Mistress Syn would have even more blackmail material to lord over me, and that filled me with shame.

But nowhere near as much as when I looked at the clothes she had left for me.

Mistress Syn had provided me with a slutty maid outfit.

It was a one-piece, like the kind you'd see at a sex shop around Halloween, with the top and skirt attached, as well as a pair of white nylons.

The thought of wearing them even for a second both disturbed and thrilled me, and I knew it would be the latter sensation that would be in the driver's seat. The very same one Mistress Syn so easily manipulated each time she had decided to teach me a new lesson.

I took off my clothes and put them on the side table, then started to slip on the outfit. The stockings were tight and the top was the same, but I still managed to get them on. It was uncomfortable to move, but not impossible. I wondered if she had bought the outfit for this occasion, or if it was one of her own, and the thought of her having worn it before got me hard, much to my continued discomfort.

That taken care of, I looked around for the second note she had mentioned. It didn't seem to be anywhere on the floor, though I searched for several minutes. No sign of it.

Though I could have moved on to another task, the idea of missing one for such a stupid reason as giving up so early seemed like the sort of thing which would get me punished, so I kept at it, the scent of her boots continuing to tease and torture me. Still no sign of it.

After a third try, I came to a sobering conclusion. If it had been close to the door, could it have blown out when I'd come in?

With a gulp, I stepped over to the door and opened it a crack, and much to my dismay, there it was. Right outside the door.

Slowly, I opened the door and took a step out, hoping no one was around to see me. No one seemed to be, but I was still terrified. Another step and I managed to grab the note, just in time to hear another door open. Panicking, I leaped back inside and locked the door, my heart beating in my chest at how close I'd come to being discovered.

Once safe inside, I opened the note to see what my first task would be, and if I'd felt good at the momentary salvaging of my dignity, that quickly vanished as I read the four words written on the page in my hands.

"Lick my boots clean."

I stared down at the boots by the door and counted six pairs of varying sizes, including the ones she had worn for our previous lessons. With a sigh, I made my way to my knees and picked up the nearest one. The scent of her foot sweat wafted out and stung my nostrils, but I had a job to do.

My tongue slipped out and made contact with the faded, dirty leather, and almost immediately tried to slink back into the safety of my mouth. But I forced it to remain there and started to run it along the surface of the boot. It tasted terrible, and I could only hope whatever other tasks she had in mind were less disgusting.

It took me over two hours to finish with her boots, and once I was through with the task my mouth was filled with the taste of her now spotless boots, and my nose burned with the scent of Mistress Syn's feet. And yet, disgusting as such a task should have been, my cock remained hard the entire time. Even without her there, she continued to exert her control over me.

Rising from the floor, I looked around for another note.

The next one was on the wall by her kitchen, where Mistress Syn had graciously left a mop and bucket, as well as a vacuum. Opening the note, I read her next set of orders:

"I hope you enjoyed cleaning my boots Trinket. I know how big a filthy foot whore you are, so I'm sure licking them got your dicklet all hard and leaky."

She was right about that, and I hated that she was. The idea of licking boots clean making my cock hard had never crossed my mind, but Mistress Syn seemed to have a knack for pulling such depravity out of me as if it had always been there. I read on:

"Your next task is so simple, even a stupid foot whore like you should be able to do it no problem! I like to walk around barefoot all the time, so your job is to make sure all my floors are spotless. I mean, you can skip this, but then YOU'LL have to clean my feet every time they get the least bit dirty... Then again, that might be a treat for someone like you Trinket."

I groaned. She knew I didn't enjoy that, or rather, I shouldn't, but our previous two lessons had seemingly changed that... Mistress Syn was toying with me, and it baffled me how easily she could do that so quickly.

Picking up the vacuum, I plugged it in and got to work, starting with the living room area and the small hallway, then moving to the kitchen. I saw another note above the very full sink but knew that one would have to wait, although I was pretty sure I knew what it would say.

Then I made my way into the bathroom, where another note was stuck to the mirror above the sink. Looking at the toilet, I shuddered at the thought that, perhaps, she would order me to clean that with my tongue as well. I hoped not, but Mistress Syn had proven she could be quite cruel when she wanted to be.

The final room was her bedroom, and if I thought the rest of the dorm suited her personality, I was dead wrong.

Mistress Syn's bedroom, like the rest of her place, was painted purple and covered with lights, vines, and horror and demonic imagery. But that wasn't all. On the walls in between the rest were various tools of punishment that I'd only ever seen before in porn.

A flogger, a cane, two riding crops, and a half-dozen paddles of various sizes could be seen, and I knew right then that she hadn't been joking when she'd told me that if I failed to properly clean her dorm this weekend she would punish me. She certainly had enough to do the job right.

Her nightstand had a number of sex toys on it- dildos, vibrators of all different sizes- although all much bigger than my cock, as well as wands, and her bed was, oddly enough, filled with plushies which seemed quite out of place compared to everything else. Regardless, it was clear that Mistress Syn had made this entire place her own, and it was impossible to confuse it for anyone elses.

My fear at the sight of her many tools subsided slightly, and I vacuumed the floor around the bed as best as I could. There didn't seem to be any notes in the bedroom, which suited me fine, seeing as I had no desire to spend any more time in there than I needed to.

The vacuuming seemingly done, I took a seat in her kitchen to catch my breath and get my bearings. It was already almost two in the afternoon, and I had at least two more notes worth of tasks to complete. Much as I had hoped to get everything done today, it was starting to seem like I'd have to come back tomorrow to finish everything.

After a few minutes, I got back to it, determined to finish everything today, both to allow me a day off tomorrow as well as to possibly please my Mistress with my efficiency, and took down the note she had left over by the sink. It read:

"I've been super busy with classwork this week Trinket, as well as having to teach you a lesson. So these dishes have been here for a few days, and they are pretty nasty. Don't worry though, there are some rubber gloves so you don't get your whore hands dirty while you work."

The dishes did look quite bad, with caked-on food on almost everything in sight. With a sigh, I picked up the yellow rubber gloves behind the tap, slipped them on, and got to work.

I looked up at the small mirror above the sink and took in the image of myself reflected there. A tight, slutty maid outfit on my body, and soapy rubber gloves on my hands. I looked as pathetic as could be, and I knew if Mistress Syn were around she would tell me so.

And just thinking of that got me even harder.

Even though I knew I wasn't allowed to, I desperately wanted to stroke my cock right then and there. I could feel the precum sticking to the stockings that had been pressing against my crotch this whole time and knew that by the time I finished here, I'd be so on edge Mistress Syn could wink at me and I'd cum in an instant.

Hell, I probably would have right then if I'd been allowed to.

The dishes took forever, and by the time the last one was washed and dried, the sun was starting to set. Even so, there was only one note left, and I was convinced I could finish it before night fell.

Heading into the bathroom, I checked the final note, and luckily for me, there was no mention of licking the toilet clean with my tongue. Instead, it read:

"Okay Trinket, I hope you kept those gloves handy because I haven't touched anything in this bathroom for months. That means you'll have plenty to clean. Aren't you a lucky bitch? Have fun!"

I hadn't kept them handy and went back to the kitchen to retrieve them, as well as a rag and cleaner from the mop bucket. I'd never even cleaned my own bathroom since I'd moved in, save for a quick wipe down here or there, so this was a real eye-opener for me.

The sink was easy, as was the mirror above it. The shower and tub were not, and given how filthy the ring was I wondered how often Mistress Syn showered. That of course got me thinking of her doing so, but I shook off that image as I didn't need another distraction right now.

Once that was done, I started on the toilet, which, thankfully, was not terrible either. For a moment or two, I honestly thought I was through with my tasks

Then I remembered the mop.

Sure I'd vacuumed, but I doubted Mistress Syn would have left a mop out if I wasn't meant to use it. Groaning as I eyed the clock- almost eight thirty at night, I filled up the bucket and started to mop.

Her bedroom was carpeted, so I avoided that- as well as seeing the perilous instruments of punishment therein. Instead, I focused on the bathroom, the hallway, the kitchen and the living room. Over and over I scrubbed at the floors until the fairy lights on the walls could be seen reflected in the shiny surface.

I was finished.

Or so I thought.

Emptying the bucket and placing it, the mop and the vacuum back where I'd found them, I looked around the dorm one last time just in case I'd missed anything. And once I did that, I saw one more note. One I had seemingly missed all throughout my day of cleaning.

This one was above the couch in Mistress Syn's living room, and I wracked my brain trying to think what else she could have planned for me to do. Clean the couch? Do her laundry? I had no idea, but the answer, like it or not, was in that note.

Taking it off the wall, I opened the envelope and slipped out the latest one. It read:

"Don't worry Trinket, this isn't another task. Just a little reminder for you. Even when you finish up here and go back home, nothing will have changed. I will still own you fully and completely. In fact, I'll own you even more, because you'll have spent your weekend cleaning up my place in your cute slutty maid outfit, and I'll have it all recorded. So I want you to look at the wall where you found this, smile, and say 'Thank you for making me your little cleaning whore Mistress Syn'."

Even though I couldn't see any camera where the note had been, it didn't matter. Her note was one hundred percent true, and there was no way I could deny it. I may not have spent the entire weekend doing so, half of it was more than enough to prove her point.

So, looking up at the wall, still dressed in the slutty maid outfit, precum dribbling out of my erect little cock and onto the nylons, I did as she commanded. With a smile, I said:

"Thank you for making me your little cleaning whore Mistress Syn."

Then I sighed, changed out of the maid outfit and nylons and into the clothes I'd arrived in, placed them on the table, and headed out the door.

This lesson was finished, but I knew that whatever the next one Mistress Syn had in mind entailed, I would do it without question.

She owned me after all, and there was no way I could change that.