Partial SubmissionChapter 1
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Partial SubmissionChapter 2 free porn video
I heard the door open, but I didn't raise my eyes; it is not proper for a slave to look up at his Mistress unless she invites it. All I could see were her beautiful, perfect bare feet and the lower length of her delicate, rounded leg. Her ankles were exquisite, small yet perfectly defined and I found myself yearning to feel my tongue upon them.
"Hello, Daniel," she breathed, her voice soft and inviting. It was a far cry from the hoarse, gruff voice she originally used but we were beyond such deceptions. "Are you ready?"
"A moment, Mistress," I begged. "Today is ... special to me. I do not know if it is deserving of your consideration, but it is exactly a year ago today that you consented to take me as yours. In appreciation for the wonderful year you've given me, I've got you a small and unworthy gift."
"Of course I remembered our anniversary, Daniel," she smiled down at me. "I remember everything. Today is special, my slave. I've gotten you a few gifts myself. Why don't you show me what you got me first, though?"
Without raising my eyes, I handed her the small box and then resumed the position.
"Oh, Daniel," she gasped, "it's beautiful. Thank you! It's even engraved!"
"'To My Mistress'," she read aloud. "It's wonderful. Thank you!"
I didn't reply. The thin gold chain and heart shaped locket were unworthy of her, but there was nothing I could get that was worthy of my beautiful red-haired mistress.
"Here is the first of your presents," she declared. "Look at me."
Of course I looked up wordlessly. One must obey one's Mistress. I was unprepared for her nudity, though; normally, she begins our sessions in a business suit of some kind. She is truly one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. She stands only 5'6", a far cry from my own 6'6" height, but she stands so straight that she looks much taller. She is thin, but not emaciated, curved but not overly so.
Her green eyes sit wide and open under a thin, arched band of spun red gold. Her nose is short and dainty, slightly sloped upwards at the end. Under this are maroon lips that look too dark to be natural, though I know they are; she has never worn much make-up because she has never had to. Her pale, oval face is lightly freckled across her high cheekbones and down through her dimples. That wonderful face ends in a slight but strong chin that almost begs for your lips. Beyond that chin, her neck slopes just slightly too long, onto shoulders that are, like everything about her, straight and firm. Beneath the soft rounded hills are firm, tapered peaks; her breasts are soft and supple, not large but large for her frame. They end in sloped nipples offered on small plates of pale red.
Under those welcoming orbs, her stomach is flat and firm, yet soft and supple. From here, her hips flare out, but not widely; she is a compact package. Within the flares of her hips lies the delicate, hairless valley of her pudenda, a small, secretive hill begging to be investigated. She is an innie; her lips, like her navel, are focused inward, giving the enticing appearance of a slim groove in the otherwise pristine hillock. Below lie legs that promise and deliver, they curve invitingly across knees that plead for your attention; they are velvety towers of subtle skin.
Cradled in her hands, she presented me with a thin, diamond-studded collar that looked more like a necklace than an affirmation of my bondage. It was my first collar; not the first I'd worn, for I'd worn many since giving myself to my Mistress, but the first that was only mine the others being shared with other of her slaves. I quivered as I crawled to her, trembled as I bowed my head yet again so that she could honor me by putting the soft leather around my throat. Her fingers brushed my skin gently as she clasped the sign of my obeisance around my neck.
"Today is a special day, Daniel," she remarked, her voice gentle. I felt a slight pressure cross my scalp before a firm, dark band blotted out my vision. I waited as a scarf was tied tightly around my eyes, ensuring the integrity of the blindfold under it. "Can you see anything at all?"
"No, Mistress."
"Good," she murmured. "We're going to need to keep you hydrated today, I think. Drink this."
I fumbled with the glass just a bit, a few drops sprinkling onto my wrists. I managed to get the glass to my mouth and I drank it down. It was just ice cold water but had a bitter, acrid taste to it, like well water. The bitter taste continued after I drank it. She took the glass from me, and I heard her set it down before turning back to me.
I felt her soft hands at my neck, fumbling with the collar. I heard a low, metallic click and then felt myself pulled forward. Dutifully, I crawled, my ears suddenly aware of the soft padding of my Mistress' feet in front of me. I had been here before, so I could imagine where she was leading me. I saw myself lead through her kitchen, my short, crawling steps slowly maneuvering around her wooden table and its accompanying chairs. I wasn't certain where she was leading me; sometimes my sessions were done in her living room, other times in the bathroom or one of the bedrooms. Occasionally, even, in her kitchen.
This time she led me to the door I'd never gone through before. She led me to the door leading to her basement; the door that led down into her dungeon.
I do not enjoy pain, like some of my Mistress' slaves. I don't mind the occasional humiliation, though it does nothing for me sexually, but pain has never brought me gratification even when granted to me by my Mistress. My sessions with her were merely for domination; to feel someone own me body and soul and take all of the rights to my body away from me. Therefore, I'd never been down to her dungeon.
I trembled as I heard the door open, an unasked question on my lips. I never voiced that question; I trusted my Mistress implicitly and it was not for me to question where she was leading me. Still, I was not completely sanguine about what the future held.
"Stand, Daniel," she ordered and I quickly complied. "We are going down some stairs. I want you to take the stairs slowly; I don't want you to fall. There are 14 stairs; count them for me as you go."
I had never taken stairs while blindfolded and I was afraid. Sweat stood on my brow as I carefully navigated each step, stepping down only one foot at a time and calling out the numbers as I moved lower. My Mistress was patient, letting me take my time as I moved down, allowing me to adjust to my fear. Finally, after what seemed like an hour but was actually but a few minutes, we stood at the bottom.
"Very good, Daniel," Mistress Kennedy congratulated me. "Back on your knees. We have a short walk yet."
I dropped down almost before the words were out of her throat. The floor was hard and cold, but I seemed to feel the gaps of tiles beneath my knees and hands. She led me forward and then around to the right. I couldn't imagine what was down here and the unknown nature of my surroundings filled me with a slight sense of dread. The air was cooler here, pickling my skin, and I felt a strange type of humidity. I bumped my right shoulder slightly as she led me through another doorway, but I made not a sound and quickly adjusted myself through. Finally, she tapped my head, indicating I should stop and I felt my collar go slack in her hand. With a gentle touch, she unclipped the leash.
"Stand and give me your right hand," she said quietly. She grabbed my hand as I raised it and I felt her put a soft cuff around my wrist. I heard the clink of chain as she finished.
"Your left hand," she demanded and she secured it as she had my right. I trembled a little, unsure of what was going on. The trembling brought the soft, musical tinkle of chains. Still, this was my Mistress and I trusted her with my life.
"For the past year, you've been a good and dutiful slave," Mistress Kennedy intoned. "You've worshipped me without reservation and it has been rare when I was not satisfied with your performance. There have been a few times, however, that you have vexed me and I've needed to temper my response so that I did not send you home marked. Even after you told your wife of our relationship, still was I refused the pleasure of punishing you as I wished; you did not want your wife to see evidence of what went on here."
"Now, though," she continued a bit more forcefully, her voice slowly moving further and further away from me, "that has changed. Your wife is gone for the week, giving you four days to recover and I'm going to take advantage." I heard chains being pulled and suddenly my arms were yanked above my head. Higher and higher they were lifted until I had to get on the tips of my toes because I thought I was going to be lifted off my feet. I heard a loud click and then I could hear my Mistress walking back to me.
"I'm going to give you 50 strokes," my Mistress informed me. "There have been 5 times over the past year when I wanted to spank you for a major infraction but couldn't do more than use my hand or a paddle to redden your ass. You will get 5 strokes for each of those infractions. The other 25 are for cheating on your wife for three weeks before telling her about us."
"You have a choice, Daniel," she said, loudly. "You can either submit or say your safe word. If you submit, I will punish you and then we will get on to the surprises I have in store for you. Moving forward, though, I will punish you as I see fit without regard to what you present to your wife. I find that this should give you even more incentive to obey me. If you say your safe word, then I will set you free. Completely. You will no longer belong to me and you will no longer be welcome as my slave. The choice is yours."
I was in a quandary. Any marks on me would remind my wife of my infidelity. We'd managed to make it beyond Tuesdays but I knew that most of that was based on denial; my wife refused to admit that Tuesdays existed. On the other hand, I found that my submission on Tuesdays actually made me better every other day of the week. It made it easier for me to remain in charge Wednesday through Monday. I was certainly happier.
"Do you have something to say to me, Daniel?" Mistress questioned.
"No, Mistress," I replied before I could even fully think my response; I didn't need to think. I knew what I needed, what I craved. I would find some way to hide everything from my wife. I loved Sarah with all of my heart but I couldn't give up my Tuesdays.
"Count every stroke," she intoned loudly. "If you miss a count, I'm going to start over."
The pain was excruciating. Over and over and over, I heard the whistle of my Mistress' crop or whip or whatever she was using on me. Over and over and over, I heard the sharp report before my ass or the upper part of my legs or my back burned in abject misery. I was in tears before I counted 20, screaming before the 30th stroke. By the time I screamed 50, my throat was hoarse and I thought for sure I'd never be able to sit again.
"You did well, Daniel," Mistress remarked. "I thought for sure you'd be begging me to stop before the end, but you didn't. Marie, apply the ointment to Daniel's ass."
I heard someone approaching me but it seemed to come from a different direction than my Mistress. There was a gasp as someone moved behind me but after a moment I felt a cooling sensation as soft though trembling hands applied the salve to my abused rear end. It wasn't until those hands were spreading the soothing balm across my back, ass and legs that my Mistress' words penetrated the pain induced fog surrounding me. We weren't alone. Someone else had witnessed the humiliation of my beating.
"Yes, Daniel," Mistress laughed, reading my mind. "You aren't alone. I've two of my newest slaves here with us; Marie and Ellen. They have agreed to be a part of my surprise for you."
I should have known when I heard the names, but I didn't. Maybe it was the fog of pain that still befuddled me or maybe I just wasn't smart enough to pick up the clues. I don't know; all I knew was that two women had seen my Mistress beat me for the first time.
"Now, on to our evening," Mistress Kennedy said and I could hear the smile in her voice. "I've got a proposition for you Daniel. A proposition that may change our relationship significantly."
"I've decided that I'd like you full time," she said, her voice serious. "I want you as my permanent slave. I want you to move in with me; to be with me always."
Her words startled me. They took my breath away. It was, of course, a great honor she was offering to me. To be with her, to always be with her, was a reward that most would give their soul for.
Most, but not me. As much as I enjoyed my Tuesdays, I could not be this way forever. It was ... a weekly vacation I did not want to miss but not something I could live with on a permanent basis. Beyond that, though ... I loved Sarah. I could not imagine my life without my wonderful wife. If I was forced to choose between my Tuesdays and my wife, I'd choose my wife every time.
"You are offering me a great honor, Mistress," I groaned, my ass slowly soothing from the cream soaking into it. "With all due respect, though, I can't."
"You're refusing me?" she gasped, her voice incredulous. "Why would you refuse me?"
"I ... I..." I stuttered. Then, my tears started anew and had nothing to do with the pain she had inflicted on me. "Mistress, I love you. I love our days together. But doing this every day, being your slave every day, is not me. I can't do that; this is just a respite for me. I don't think I'm ... I don't know ... I don't think I'm completely submissive; most days, I'm very dominant. I just need this one day a week to recharge myself.'
"Even if I could, though ... I couldn't," I said dejectedly. "The truth is that I am madly in love with my wife. If I had to, I could live without you ... I could live without this. I couldn't live without my wife."
"What if I gave you slaves?" she said and from the way her voice was moving, I could tell she was pacing. "What if I gave you Marie and Ellen? You would be my slave and subject to my will but they would be your slaves and subject to yours. That way, you could be both submissive and dominant; you could play out both of your 'selves'?"
The idea appealed to me. It was the perfect synthesis of all worlds; both a slave and a domme. It was also a huge compliment. My Mistress would give up some of her control in order to keep me. I have to say that I almost agreed. Before the word could cross my lips, though, the image of my wife flitted through my mind and my heart broke. Without Sarah, I was nothing; I could not live without her.
"Please forgive me, Mistress," I whispered. "I can't. I love my wife. I can't live without her."
"You love her that much?" she questioned disbelievingly.
"More," I replied, knowing that I was losing my Mistress. Without Sarah, though, my Mistress didn't matter. "I love her with all my heart."
Mistress Kennedy said nothing for a few moments though I could hear her pacing steps. "Okay," she began, drawing the word out. I could tell she was agitated at my refusal. "For the sake of argument, what if we made your wife your slave and you would be my slave?"
I almost laughed. Almost. "Mistress, that wouldn't work," I replied. "My wife is not a submissive. She'd never agree to it."
"I'm. Talking. Hypo-theti-cally," she said harshly, each syllable punctuated by a crack of her crop on my bum.
I screamed in pain, trying almost desperately to climb the chains and get away from those painful smacks. I realized that Mistress had been holding back before; she wasn't now.
"Now, hypothetically," she continued, her voice strangely calm but I could sense her displeasure, "what if we made your wife your slave and you were my slave. Would you agree then?"
"Yes," I yelled hoarsely. "But it would never happen, she'd never..."
"Shut up," Mistress demanded, smacking me quickly with her crop.
For a few moments, all I could do was whimper as the pain, which had been receding, flashed through me anew. Mistress said nothing and, over my own labored breaths, I could not even hear her steps anymore.
"It's okay Daniel," I heard her chuckle, her voice still calm. "I was just wondering how much it would take. I knew that you loved your wife, it was evident to me when you confessed our relationship to her. I have some slaves who have been coming to me since I began this service and they still haven't told their wives. Mistress Kali, who's been doing this much longer than me, has slaves that have come to her for almost a decade whose wives still don't know."
"I've seen the change in you since we began, though," she continued, "and I wondered how far the change had gone. It made me wonder if you'd take me up on my offer or, if you didn't, what it would take for you to accept."
There was a pregnant pause as I waited for more of my Mistress' words. The conversation had so far unhinged me; I wasn't quite sure if I was coming or going. She had unsettled me and I wondered just how far she would have gone had I not agreed in the end to one of her proposals.
"Marie, come here and lie on the table," Mistress demanded, her voice changing. Of course, I couldn't see anything but I heard what sounded like chains rattling. I tested my arms, but the chains rattling evidently weren't the ones holding me in place. I heard more chains rattling, adjustments, I think, but couldn't be sure.
I heard feet padding along the floor and then a loud click. More chains rattled and my arms were slowly lowered until they were hanging in front of me. I could hear the feet padding towards me and then hands at my wrists.
"I'm going to release your wrists," my Mistress whispered directly in front of me.
She undid my right wrist, the cuff still attached but the chains removed, and I let it down to my side, a burning agony running through my shoulder. I hadn't even realized how much pain my shoulder was in, drawn tight to the ceiling. Of course, the pain in my ass was much more than the pain in my shoulder which was probably why I didn't notice. She undid my left wrist, but didn't let it go. Grabbing my other wrist, she pulled me forward gently.
"Kneel, slave," she intoned and of course I obeyed. She pulled me forward slightly, my knees shuffling until my chest encountered what must have been the edge of a metal table. It bounced away from me slightly before rebounding back onto my chest; the table was suspended. I felt my arms pulled along the table, first my right and then my left, what felt like skin rubbing over my arms as they were pulled in place. I could feel adjustments being made, heard a motor as the table was lowered slightly. I was pulled forward by my right wrist until it was stretched into place and then I heard a click as it locked. My left wrist was done the same way.
I could actually feel the heat on my face of someone below me, could smell what could only be arousal emanating from the flesh under me. I felt the appendages that my arms had been slid under flex and move. The scent from just under me was intoxicating, a female scent that flowed through my nose and grabbed me. I knew that a female pussy lay below me but I could only guess whether my Mistress planned to torture me or give her to me.
"Happy Anniversary, Daniel," my Mistress said from right next to me. She sounded as if her face was almost next to my ear and I felt or imagined her breath coming over me. "Marie's shaved cunt is just under your face; it is your second anniversary present. You will eat her to three orgasms, drinking down her cum. Now."
The words were hardly out of her mouth before my mouth was on the female slave. I couldn't see her but I didn't need to. I used my tongue to explore her, my nose to revel in her scent and my lips to brush her pussy. She was swampy as my face descended into her, and I drank everything she offered. I traced her distended lips with my tongue, lightly flicking at them. I buried my tongue into her as far as I could, my lips covering her own and my mouth suckling her nectar into my mouth. There was an obstruction I wasn't used to, but I pushed at it with my tongue. I should have known what it was, but my mind wasn't working that way.
My efforts were quickly rewarded; I heard a loud moan, though it was muffled and indistinct, and then the legs over my arms were flexing and Marie was pumping her cunt into my face. She tasted divine, light, sweet with just a hint of tang. I was hooked on her taste, sucking her juices like a madman. Sarah tasted sweeter, Mistress Kennedy's juices were thicker, but Marie's fluid was just as enjoyable as theirs.
I started again, licking her, suckling her. She seemed harder to please this time, the juices rolling out but lighter and more delicate. I found her clit and flicked it with my tongue; she shuddered and I heard another groan. I kept it up, dipping my tongue into her, suckling at her lips and every so often flicking my tongue back over her clit. She was moving again, rotating her hips, her moans coming often now but still she didn't go over. I dipped my tongue deeper, my nose against her clit trying to stimulate her entire cunt with my mouth.
"Bite on her clit," my Mistress whispered in my ear. "Marie's a pain slut; she loves it to hurt."
I followed my Mistress' orders and bit softly on Marie's clit, not hard enough to damage but hard enough to make her feel pain. I was rewarded with a sharp, muffled scream and then Marie's swampy folds were pushing at my face hard and I could feel the harsh trembling of her body through her slushy pit. Still, I continued at her clit, nibbling, biting, trying to prolong her feelings of ecstasy but always careful to move my tongue down, slurping away at her essence as much as I could. The taste of her was heady and the scent of her was pure bliss.
"How does she taste, Daniel?" my Mistress questioned me softly, her breath on my ears. Her voice held the barest hint of amusement. "How does her 16-year old virgin pussy taste?"
I pulled back in shock. "Mistress?" I questioned, alarm in every syllable. "I can't ... she's ... I'll ... I could go to jail!"
"My. Law. Is. All. That. Matters. Here," my Mistress said, her voice harsh. Each word was punctuated by a new burst of pain on my backside. She grabbed my head and forced it back against Marie's dripping, cumming cunt. "You'll do well to remember that. The big lawyer who doesn't even know the law. 16 is the age of sexual consent in this state, Daniel. She consents but most importantly, I command ... and you have one more orgasm to give her. Now eat her fucking pussy until she cums ... and don't forget her asshole; she loves a good tongue in her ass..."
I'd never had any real fantasies about younger lovers, though I will admit to occasionally indulging in "looking" at high school girls and young college coeds. I was only 25, after all, and often it was difficult to tell the difference between a younger girl and one that was a bit more mature. I never, ever would have followed up on those looks; it's okay to window shop even if you have no money.
Now, though, my Mistress was rubbing my face in this girl's spasming pussy ... and then, it didn't matter any longer. I rationalized it many different ways - I had no choice, my Mistress was pulling one over on me to test me, the girl was okay with what I was doing - but the fact of the matter was that I was addicted. This female - whether she was young or old, willing or coerced - had just come twice on my tongue and she both tasted and smelled fantastic. What's done is done and can't be taken back; I was going to give her a third.
I pulled out all of the stops. My tongue went from the crinkle of her asshole to the nubbin of her clit and back. I flicked at her lips, lightly caressing them with my tongue. I sucked her clit into my mouth and nibbled on it. I pulled at her nether lips with my teeth, not hard enough to damage but strong enough so she could feel it. I lightly traced around her asshole before plunging within it while burying my nose at the source of her delightful scent. I plunged my tongue into her open hole, trying hard to break her hymen with just my tongue. Then I did it again ... and then again. I was insatiable and I could feel her tension through the skin of her sex. I could feel her hips thrusting at me and hear her cries through whatever gag my Mistress had put in place. I wanted her to come, needed her to come. I was lost in lust and I wanted this girl to flow over that peak.
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