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A DREAM from one of MY SLAVES

This is the dream I had last nite… This is what I’ve been thinking about all day…

You have me tied down to the bed while on my back. My arms and legs are all secured to the bed. So, you’re standing above me and you tell me that I’ve been a good Orgasm bitch the past few days, bringing you pleasure at all hours of the day whenever you wanted me to. And now you’re going to give my tongue a break and allow me to experience the other side of being an Orgasm bitch. The side where you control my O’s.

You come around to the head of the bed, and pull something out of the night stand. I can’t see what it is until you suddenly shove it into my mouth. It’s a ball gag. As you fasten it into place, you tell me that you want to make sure I don’t use my overworked tongue any more tonight. I struggle a little, but once in place, you bend over and kiss my forehead telling me not to worry, that I’ll enjoy myself as you give a wicked smile and chuckle. There are two more toys that are going to be used as well you tell me. First you insert the vibrating plug. You place it on the low setting for now. Next you take the cock ring (the new vibrating one with the stimulator for you) and fasten that. Not even seconds into this predicament, and I’m already squirming around and hard as a rock. You tell me to relax as this is going to be a long night and you want to make sure I don’t tire out too quickly.

Once everything is in place the way you want it, you tell me that you’re not sure if I really do deserve to have an O. Hearing this I’m desperate to do anything, I start to beg you through the gag with incomprehensible mumblings to let me have one. You state that you think you deserve at least one more O yourself before you allow me to have one. And since I’m your O bitch, that I should be the one who gives it to you. The only problem is that you don’t want to remove the ball gag. You decide that you’ll ride my fully erect cock to an O. You tell me sternly though not to even think about coming. If I do, the consequences will be so severe that I’ll wish I was never born.

At that moment, you mount me, and start riding up and down. As you start to get into it, you turn up both vibrators and start pumping up and down faster and faster until you reach your climax. I am on the verge of exploding but somehow you can tell and you jump off of me. You can see the desperation in my eyes and it amuses you. “Do you want to come?” you ask me. All I can do is violently shake my head up and down. “Ok, I think you’ve earned this one,” you say. You come closer to me and turn up both vibes even higher and start to stroke my cock lightly. You tell me that I’m allowed to come, but only if I eat what I produce. You ask me if I will and again I emphatically shake my head up and down. As soon as I do, you stroke it faster and faster until I shoot my load all over my chest. You then take out the gag, and scoop it all up and start to feed it to me. You look into my eyes and say, “Good O bitch. You’ve pleased me today.”

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I went out with a bunch of the guys I work with to celebrate closing a large deal. We went to a very expensive, elite restaurant for dinner. Because we were in New York City, even though this was a five star restaurant, it was extremely crowded and our chairs nearly butted up against other diners’ chairs. When I got up to go to the Men’s Room, my chair locked up with a woman’s behind me and she gave me a dirty look. I apologized profusely. She was dark-haired, exotic looking, like Tera Patrick. She was with two other women who were equally gorgeous. I imagined they were models or worked in the fashion industry. On my way back from the Men’s Room, I ran into a girl selling flowers, this was part of the theme of the restaurant, as well as featuring a roving Gypsy violin player. I bought a pretty yellow flower, a lily I think? Hey, guys don’t know much about flower types. The one flower cost me $5, talk about making a profit on mark-up(!)

I slipped the flower to the Tera Patrick look-alike on my way back to the table. Even the flower didn’t melt her cold heart. “What am I supposed to do with this?” She asked. One of the other women she was with said, “I can use it for my hair.” So I handed the flower to her friend, who promptly sliced off the blossom with a steak knife and tucked it into some ringlets in her curly hair behind her ear. I didn’t know what to say at that point, except, “Looks nice! Have a great evening.” Then I sat back down and rejoined the conversation at my table. Due to the proximity to the women’s table, while I caught a few quizzical looks, no one asked what had transpired until later after we had left and went to a private cigar club.

While we were still at the restaurant, I got a cell phone call from one of my clients, who was on vacation, but needed a briefing from me so I had to excuse myself again. One of the other women at the table said, “Hey, it’s Johnny-jump-up.” And then the other two laughed. This time I was careful not to bump our chairs. I walked to the front of the restaurant, where I could hold a conversation and also surreptitiously gaze at my crush, the Tera Patrick look-alike girl.

I had no girlfriend at present, and admit I’m submissive, so it’s hard to find a girlfriend who will fit what I’m looking for. Most women want me to be dominant, an Alpha male, and I appear that way at work, just my general personality and appearance and yes, even when I have sex with women, I’m the aggressor, but deep inside I know I’m submissive and inadequate and don’t feel like I can hold out this charade, this acting job I have to do 24/7. It’s enough to hold it together at work, at a very high–pressure brokerage firm.

So I was attracted to Tera, let’s call her this for now, and didn’t want her to slip away. She seemed like the aloof, bossy, bitchy type who would be perfect for me, perfect to own me, use me, make me her obedient and submissive little bitch. I yearned to worship a supreme Goddess who would define my existence and completely control me, including financially. My financial Domme could do with me what she wanted, ruin me even. I just wanted to feel her power. Like being in the jaws of a lioness. I felt I should not less this moment pass without taking action. Ever read those Missed Connections on Craigslist or other websites? You, beautiful Tera Patrick lookalike at X Restaurant. Me, tall, handsome, nearly tripped over your chair, bought you a flower. Can’t get you out of my mind. (Translation: I’ve been jerking off to you night and day since I saw you. Please call or email me, I want to stick my penis into your vagina.)

Well, I didn’t want to be so lame. I signaled our waiter, who thought I might be asking about our check. I asked him to do something for me and pulled a $100 bill out of my wallet and handed him my business card. “Would you give my card to the woman there?” I indicated Tera. I wrote a short note on the back of my card, actually all I wrote was: Coffee? I said please give it to her after we leave and then I handed him my Black Amex to pick up the dinner tab.

I had done all I could. It was up to Tera now if she wanted to see me for coffee. A week went by, then two and I stopped masturbating to visions of my fantasy Mistress dominating me, owning me, keeping me in chastity. I returned to my strict work focus, working out. Then I got a call while I was picking up my weekly dry cleaning. “Hello?” It was a woman’s voice. I didn’t recognize it as hers. I said, “Hello.” “Is this Garrett?” “Gary, yes.” And then I knew it had to be her. Garrett was on my business card, but everyone called me Gary. I think my heart skipped a beat, literally. “This is Sina. From the restaurant.” “Hello Sina.” God could I be any more awkward and pathetic? “I’m near a Starbucks at xxth and Broadway if you want to have coffee.” “Coffee now would be great,” I said (I lied. I had an armful of dry cleaning.) “Give me about 15 minutes, I’ll be there.” I then ran back to the dry cleaners and asked them to keep my suits and shirts till tomorrow and handed the clerk $20.

You know the cliché saying: Be careful what you wish for? Coffee was only the beginning. I was nervous as I took a cab to the coffee shop where Sina was waiting for me. I couldn’t believe after several weeks had passed that she had even given my offer to meet any consideration. I thought she had forgotten about me, tossed my business card. I’ve done million dollar business deals, got a rush working on them, closing them. But I can say that in the cab ride over to meet Sina, I was more nervous than I had ever been before in any situation.

As I walked into the coffee shop, I spotted her immediately, she was wearing a beautiful print dress, beige and black, her hair pinned up in a sexy way, black leather boots and had already bought her coffee. I sat down on a low-slung club chair next to her on which she had placed her bag, to save me the seat. “Well at least our chairs aren’t going to tangle up.” “Yes, the chair incident, I’ll never live that down will I?” “That depends.” “Depends?” “On what you might do to make me forget it.” I wasn’t sure if she was flirting with me or being demanding. I prayed she was dominant, but even if she just wanted to fuck, I was up for that, too! “Aren’t you going to get a coffee?” “Yes, let me order, would you like anything?” “No,” she said, “go.” I got a coffee, nothing fancy, if I’m alone I’m normally a sucker for frappes, the sugar and the caffeine, but I went with coffee, black with one packet of organic sugar.

“So,” she said, “you’re submissive.” I nearly choked on a sip of hot coffee. “Uh, maybe.” I managed to sputter out. “Have you ever been in a Dom/sub relationship?” So I guess sex was out. Well at least the type of sex that most men would have pictured having with Sina. “Well, I –.” “So that means no.” “No, you’re right, no is the answer.” “That is the only relationship I want, so if you’re not into being an obedient boytoy, then we can just talk about the weather.” “No, I want to be in a relationship with a dominant woman. I do, I swear. What do I have to do to prove it?” “Hand me your wallet,” she demanded. I was scared now. What if I was just being hustled? What if my submissive nature left me so vulnerable that I could be taken for everything I had financially? I told her I wasn’t ready to go there yet, that I needed to trust her. “Trust, ah yes, trust,” she sighed. “I just got back from a buyer’s trip, Italy, the weather was so gorgeous. I hate New York really, it’s just a necessary evil to live here for my work.” I knew that meant we weren’t playing any more, but I still didn’t want to hand over my wallet.

“You’re really very stupid, I was only going to look at your wallet for quality of the leather, certain accessories speak of a man, your watch, your shoes, expensive. Wallet is another indicator. What did you think? I was going to lift money or credit cards? Not yet at least.” She laughed. I took out my wallet and handed it to her. She examined the wallet closely. “Not Italian. South American. Heavier leather, not as supple, drying out. Not tanned well. Not as expensive as I thought it might be.” “It was a gift, and it’s been lucky so far, which is why I haven’t upgraded.” “Sentimental and a lucky charm then.” “Yes.”

We sat drinking our coffees. The silence did not seem awkward. I felt totally comfortable sitting next to this beautiful, dominant female. In awe that she was even so indulgent of me. Then her cell phone rang. The call was brief, mostly yes, no, yes, at nine. “Well I must go Gary. I have an event to attend tonite. “ “When can we get together again?” “I’ll call you.” Her hand brushed against mine as we were standing up, so I took it and kissed it. “Ciao bella.” Two of the only Italian words I knew. She laughed again, a beautiful wicked laugh. “You should say ‘Ciao padrona’. Look it up, you’ll see.”

I confess that this beautiful Femdom Sina had me completely in her thrall, even though I had only seen her twice. I looked up the word Padrona as she had instructed me to, and found out it was the word for Mistress in Italian. I continued my online quest to find out more about Sina and found her Facebook page and was able to suss out more about her. She worked as a buyer for a high end department store conglomerate. She traveled a lot, perhaps for her work. She spoke English and Italian and was born in Tahiti. She majored in Art History and had lived and done part of her education in Milan. There was no mention of dominance, but only a Prodomme would be so brazen on Facebook. Her smile was intoxicating. As a beautiful Femdom, she made me feel weak and vulnerable.

I masturbated to fantasies of serving her, being her footstool, errand boy, ass kisser, fool. I wanted to prove that I would be worthy of serving her. I thought about sending 10 dozen white roses to her office. I even had my Amex out and was ready to call a florist, but hesitated. I thought it might be too silly, too desperate. I decided to wait for the Femdom of my dreams to contact me. Weeks slipped by, perhaps I would never see her again. I felt guilty, I hadn’t done enough to intrigue her, to make her want to capture me.

I even asked a female colleague, Holly, who I often talk to about guy-girl relationship stuff, what she recommended I do. I pretended that Sina was someone I wanted to date. Should I send her roses? Holly put the kaibosh on that. “Ask her to dinner,” was Holly’s suggestion. “Make sure it’s a really expensive restaurant.” I knew this wouldn’t work with Sina. She probably dined out all the time at expensive restaurants. I even checked museum exhibitions to see if there was anything current or coming up that would be of interest to someone who had majored in Art History. Nothing popped out at me, plus I knew zero about Art and it would be so apparent and perhaps laughable that I might make that suggestion.

I struggled for the next few weeks while waiting to hear from her till yet again, I gave up hope, and began checking for Femdoms who might be into playing with me and possibly owning me as their slave. But most of the listings seemed to be college girls looking for money and playing dominant as part of an act to get money from submissive males or Prodommes.

After a few months had passed, I began dating a very smart banker who worked at an international bank. We seemed to hit it off and so I replaced my desire to be dominated by Sina with being in a dating situation with Margo. Then one nite Margo and I were at the movies when I saw Sina with two other women, one who I remembered from the original nite I first saw Sina at the restaurant. I began feeling weak and sweating, would she notice me? I barely paid any attention to what Margo was saying to me about foreign markets. I wanted to do something to attract Sina’s attention. There are millions of people in Manhattan, I might never have a random encounter with my supreme Femdom again. Sina was in line ahead of us. It was hard to know if she would be seeing the same movie as there were three theater areas. I wanted to make an excuse to Margo and say hello to Sina, tell Margo that Sina was a client, but as soon as Sina would see me with Margo, she would know I was on a date and had broken away from a date to bow down and kiss her feet, figuratively. She might think that was tacky. (to be continued…)

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When I travel, I can play nasty. It’s difficult to play when I’m at home due to my wife’s hawkeyes. On this upcoming biz trip, I had additional incentive to set up a session, Sara had extracted key information from me and planned to use it, unless I contacted a particular Prodomme and set up an appointment. Which I did. I felt relief that Sara wouldn’t blackmail me and fear re: what depravities this Domme had in store for me. Plus the masochist in me told me I need punishment. All logical, right?

I took the subway to the place the Mistress told me to go and went to the corner she told me to wait on. I saw her going into the chain drug store across the street, at least I hoped it was her based on her website photos: beautiful, voluptuous, blond, tall, and an incredible ass in tight low rise jeans. Turns out it was her. She came out of the store and came across the street to meet me. Mistress Victoria said, “follow behind me and don’t look like you are with me.” I did exactly as she said.

We went to a high rise and up to an apartment. The room she took me into was bare except for a sofa. The floor was hard wood. “Take all your clothes off and be kneeling for me.” She left the room.

When she came back in I was kneeling on the hard wood floor. My knees hurt. She had changed into an ultra short mini-skirt, stiletto heels, and low cut bustiere. Her legs were stunning. “You are here for my pleasure. Understand?” “Yes ma’am.” She reached down and pinched my left nipple really hard. I gasped in pain. She smiled. This was exactly the type of punishment I needed.

She kicked off her stilettos and demanded that I massage her feet. She held her left foot to my lips and demanded that I suck her toes. I sucked her toes and while I did, I could not take my eyes off her crotch as I could see her panties stretched over her pussy. She said, “You can’t take your eyes off my pussy can you?” “No ma’am.” “But did I give you permission to gaze at my pussy?” “No ma’am.” She then smacked my face and told me to close my eyes as I continued to worship her feet. I was being punished appropriately, don’t you think? I sucked those toes and licked her feet everywhere.

She took a bare foot and played with my cock and just as I started to enjoy it she kicked my balls. I crumpled forward and she got up, stood over me and spit on my face. “Open your mouth bitch.” Then she spit in my mouth. I thanked her for that much deserved humiliation even though it made my cock hard like a rock. “That spit was a kiss…do you understand me bitch?” “Yes, Mistress.”

“Now tell me one of your sexual secrets and don’t make it up.” “Well, I uh….” She slapped me again and commanded, “Don’t fuck with me bitch, make it good and make it something you can prove is true.”

I told her about being Sara’s slave. She asked for a website as proof and I told her. She typed it into her iPad and looked at it for a moment and said, “This is interesting bitch. You’re a real pervert and do deserve some punishment.” She came over to me and commanded me to lie down on my back and then tied my feet together with a rope that was long enough to come up and tie my hands too. She spit in my face and went back to her computer.

She pulled out her cell phone, “How do I call this Sara?” I told her to call thru Niteflirt and gave her the toll-free number and Sara’s extension and then she handed me the phone so I could enter my info to bill the call to my Niteflirt account. She left the room and I could hear her converse with someone but it was muffled so I couldn’t understand. She came back into the room wearing a Bluetooth head set. “Is Sara still on the line?” I asked. She ignored me.

She had a small bag with her and she knelt down and untied my legs but left my hands tied together. “What are you going to do?” She ignored me but said to Sara, “I’m spreading his legs.” And she did. Then she put a latex glove on her left hand and took a bottle of lube out of the bag and put some on her gloved index finger and lightly coated my asshole. She said into the phone, “I’m lubricating his ass.” I was breathing harder and moving my hips in pleasure, “Yeah he is, just like you said he would.” She squirted more of the slick lube on her finger and inserted it in my asshole. My hips rose to meet her finger, she shook her head in with a look of bewilderment, “How did you know he’d be such a butt boy?” She laughed at Sara’s reply.

“Close your eyes bitch.”

I closed them. She jammed more lubricant up my ass and then I could hear her moving things around in the bag. Then I felt something hard start to enter my ass. It was much thicker than her finger and hurt some. “Relax bitch, take it.” I tried to relax and the dildo inched its way deeper into my ass. She pushed it in and then out a bit and then in, fucking my asshole with the dildo. “I’m fucking him now.” She listened and then replied, “I think it hurts a bit, but he’s starting to hump a bit now.” Suddenly I felt her other hand, now gloved too wrapped around my cock and stroking it rapidly as she increased the penetration and withdrawal speed of the dildo. I came in seconds. She stood up, removed the gloves and threw them down on my cum loaded stomach while giving Sara the play by play, “Yeah, really fast…what a bitch.” She laughed and walked to the door, “You have 10 minutes bitch. Get dressed and get the fuck out and don’t forget to leave a tip and an extra hundred for Sara.”

I opened my eyes and stood up. Some cum dripped off onto the wood floor as I walked over and retrieved a towel that had been thrown on the sofa. I wiped the rest of the cum off my stomach and went to my clothes and put on my boxers. She came back in the room, still talking to Sara and saw the cum drips on the floor. “Listen to this,” she said to Sara. And then to me she said, “Come over here bitch and get down like a dog.” I started to remove my boxers, but she stopped me, “I didn’t tell you to do that. Get over here.” I went over and did as she said and then she ordered me to lick up my filthy cum off her beautiful floor. Sara must have been laughing as the Mistress was laughing like crazy as I cleaned my cum off her floor with my tongue.

Then she walked out of the room. I finished the clean-up and put on my clothes. I left another $200 on the couch and went out. I don’t know where she was but there was a post-it note on the door that read, “You will come back next time you are in town.”

I let myself out into the hall, the normal everyday hall used by normal everyday people. I felt out of place. I felt like I didn’t want to be seen. And no one did. I got out of there without running into anyone. I went to the train and boarded to head back downtown where I was staying. I sat down feeling lower than low. Embarrassed and even guiltier than before. A young woman got on at the next stop and stood holding on to the overhead. She was beautiful, I imagined licking her ass. I imagined her draining her cum filled pussy in my mouth.

She caught me staring at her and I quickly looked down at the floor as I took my phone from my pocket. I turned on the camera and pointed at her but made it look like I was texting. I took her picture.

When I got back to my room I emailed the picture to my computer so I could make it larger. I discovered she was still looking angrily at me. I looked at her mean face as I stroked my cock. I imagined the taste of her well-fucked pussy. As I came, my phone pinged to indicate I had a Niteflirt message. It was Sara. Her message: “What the fuck are you doing?”

I called her on Niteflirt and confessed it all.

And then she told me what was going to happen to me next.

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I saw my Mistress again, and the session started out like this: I was her first client of the morning and she was bitchy because she had arrived to her dungeon slightly late due to traffic, so when I arrived, she was in her kinky leather wear, but hadn’t put on her make-up for the day. I found her completely gorgeous without make-up, and wanted to tell her, but she ordered silence so she could concentrate on doing her make-up. I kneeled obediently, while she sat in front of her brightly lit vanity mirror and applied eye liner, eye shadow, mascara, lip liner, lipstick, a ritual most slaves don’t have the privilege to observe. She is an utterly sexy femdom, does fetish modeling, and was already dressed in a short black leather skirt and bustiere. After applying her make-up to perfection, she ordered me to slip on her black stiletto heels while she was standing in front of the wide full-length mirror. She did not allow me to take off all my clothes yet, so I was kneeling on the floor in my boxers, shirt and tie while doing this.

Then she ushered me into the adjacent dungeon room and the tone changed immediately. I was ordered to strip naked in front of my Mistress, making a show of it and then she demanded her money. This is a button of mine she can push, get the money, count it out, telling me that she is only interested in me for the money, slapping my face. I dread this part since I actually know my Mistress well, but she has made it clear that is all I am to her, a slave / client only good for his money, nothing more. She laughed at me confirming that it was true. I felt so humiliated.

1 – My Mistress started with high heel teasing with her stilettos, but didn’t allow me to kiss or touch her heels, she made me beg and say what would I do to be allowed to worship her heels, would I suck a cock? Would I suck a black cock? Then, she ordered, beg for cock! Beg for black cock! She thought it was pretty amusing as she ridiculed and laughed at me, calling me her faggot. Finally, after I had completely made a fool of myself, she let me worship up and down her stunningly beautiful legs from her toe cleavage in the stilettos up to the delicious cheeks of her ass (she was wearing a black leather thong underneath her black leather skirt). The smell of leather put me into a swoon. I especially loved this as she must have just shaved her legs in the shower that morning, her legs were so smooth and perfect. It was a high heel and leg fetish slave’s dream come true. I was excruciatingly hard while groveling, literally, at her feet. I crave Femdom control. I have a high level position at a corporation, yet I desperately need to session with a cruel, teasing Femdom, abandon all control and completely offer myself to my Mistress so that she can use me, abuse me.

2 – Next, she put lipstick on me calling me her stupid homo, she wrote slut on my forehead in bright red lipstick, whore on my left shoulder and arm, and bitch on my right shoulder and arm. She made me tell her out loud each of the things she wrote in lipstick as: I am a stupid homo, I am your slut, I am your whore, I am your bitch and then she sent me into the bathroom to look at myself. I had to call out to her and tell her how stupid and clownish and faggy I looked. I had to admit I really did with the lipstick smeared all over my face and the red lipstick graffiti everywhere.

3 – Then she had me help her put on the strap-on harness, I asked her to pick the dildo knowing that it was going first in my mouth then in my ass. That was Mistress / slave code for using a reasonable sized one that I could easily take in the ass. I had brought a big black cock shaped dildo that she had used to humiliate me in the past, orally. It was a full 9 inches long, over 2″ in diameter. She directed me to insert that one in the strap-on. I thought well maybe she will make me suck this and then switch to something more reasonable in size for the fucking. When I realized that might not be the case in this domination session, frankly, I got scared.

3 – She made me lick, worship, then suck and swallow the big black dildo like it was a real cock. “C’mon slave suck that dick you faggot”. She questioned me about why I had a black dick and made me admit I craved to suck black cock and that it was all I think about. After licking the cock all over, she was sitting at the time, she stood up and started to fuck my mouth with it. Now this thing is huge and I don’t have a big mouth, nor have I done anything to curb my choking reflex. So I was quickly coughing and choking and pulling away from the dick. This angered my Mistress and she said what big black dude would fuck you if you can’t take his dick. She slapped me in the face again, shoved it back in and once again I was choking and gagging, I thought I was going to throw up right in front of my Mistress. She pulled away and looked at me with disdain and disgust and berated me for my poor effort. I felt really low and apologized for my poor performance. She slapped me in the face and said well then we will see how you take this up the ass. I felt humiliated more than ever before.

4 – She pulled out a rope and tied my hands tightly behind my back. She told me to get up on the bed on the back and get ready to be fucked. Once I was there she said, hold it, I want you on your knees. So I ended up on my knees head and face down into the bed, ass in the air with my hands tied behind my back. Pretty damn vulnerable and I could see she still had the big black dildo on. I began to panic and realized my completely powerless position. I saw her putting a condom on the big black dick and then squirting some lube onto it. She put on rubber gloves then got behind me. I was afraid to say anything hoping that she might change out dildos, but that did not seem to be her kinky desire. I had been fucked in the ass before but never by something of this size and not recently. I certainly had done nothing to prepare my asshole for an assault by such a large strap-on. She snapped on a latex glove, lubed up her fingers and began to work one finger into my ass, then two. She made a comment that I clearly wasn’t ready to be fucked by the black strap-on cock and again expressed her frustration and disgust at my insolence and lack of preparation.

I had never felt so low and it was enhanced by my physical position where I clearly had no control at all, I guess I could have fallen on my side but frankly from that position I was pretty much powerless from stopping her from doing anything my Mistress wanted. After working a few fingers in she started with the strap-on dildo, but could not get it in. I was just too tight. She tried for about a minute, but then got out from behind me (basically in position behind me on one knee to fuck me) and stood up. She humiliated me about not being ready and wasting her time, telling me I was a very bad slave and she would not bother with me again given my lack of preparedness. I felt terrible that I had displeased my Femdom and knew I would have to figure out a way to take that cock. I begged her to try again and to please give me more time. I honestly did not know what I would be able to do different, but I was completely heartbroken by her displeasure.

So she got back on the bed and started again with the finger-fucking. This time she worked three fingers into me and spread her fingers apart rotating them in an outward circular motion. I had never done this before, but I tried an old meditation technique that I learned from TM many years ago when I was in college and grad school. I concentrated all my energy on relaxing my anus, accepting her fingers and her thrusts. I wasn’t very uncomfortable with just her fingers up there, it was a bearable pain and not sharp, clearly I was relaxing and she could see it. So she tried again for several minutes to work in the giant black strap-on cock. I was very surprised to hear her say it was in as I felt an opening and before I knew it she had it buried to the hilt in my ass. I felt so full, yet at the same time a strange joy of knowing that I had figured out a way to please my Mistress against all odds. Soon her hips were slapping against my ass and she pulled out all the way and rammed the dildo back in. Somehow, not knowing how I did it, I managed to relax my asshole. I loved having it completely buried inside me. So I guess it is true that I could now safely be fucked up the ass by the well hung black stud and, yes, I wanted that and would enjoy it. Mistress kept pounding me. Eventually, she pulled out, and stood up next to the bed. I could now feel my asshole wide open, gaping, empty. I can’t express what a relief that was to me knowing I had taken on an extreme task, at least for me, and satisfied my Mistress’ desire.

I had not orgasmed, nor did I expect to. I had only been permitted to orgasm twice during domination sessions over several years of seeing my Mistress; I was ordered to the bathroom to masturbate and I had to pay an additional tribute for this privilege. There was no rhyme nor reason as to why she even let me have those two orgasms. Call it the whim and mystery of a Femdom…

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