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Ayoung slave is rented out for the weekend
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
A most important aspect of slave-training is denigration. Repeated
denigration. However devoted he may be, he must never be allowed to think he
is of any value to you. Never allow him to get ideas 'above his station.' His
mental approach should be that he is honored to be permitted to serve his
mistress; that she would deign to make use of him.
This attitude takes time to imprint into any slave. Most of them
start out with the idea that, simply because they are carrying out their
orders in an adequate fashion, they are pleasing the Mistress. This notion
must be quickly and completely stamped out. There must be no question of
being pleasing to her. He is simply there to serve her to the utmost of his
abilities. He cannot please her; he can only displease her.
Accordingly, it is of paramount importance that you never commend your
slave for a job well done. He should, of course, be criticised and punished
for any faults or failures.
My personal slave, Pete, seemed to assimilate this philosophy at a
fairly early stage of his servitude to me. Once or twice, in the early days,
I caught him looking at me as if he were hoping for a pat on the head after
completing some assigned task, or satisfying me in some manner. On those
occasions, I quickly disillusioned him by slapping his face several times, and
telling him not to look upon me in such a bold manner. He soon learned that
he would not be hearing words of praise coming from his Mistress. An excellent
way of denigrating a slave -- and at the same time teaching him how low his
station truly is -- is to lend him to another woman. A truly devoted slave
will invariably feel hurt by this action on your part, but still, it will do
him good. After Pete had been in training some six weeks, I lent him out to a
friend. This is how it came about:
* * * * * * * *
Dana is an old friend of mine who has several business interests but
is a part-time professional dominatrix. She says she doesn't mind the extra
cash, but her main reason for doing is to provide recreation for her. She
truly enjoys what she does, as do I, and the topper, of course, is that she
receives domestic services free of charge.
She called me on the phone one afternoon, wanting to stop by for a
visit. I told her, sure, come on over. I informed Pete of her impending
arrival and he looked a little apprehensive. Up to that time, he had only had
to deal with me, and nobody else knew about his position. The thought of two
women at the same time was plainly frightening to him.
"You will, Pete, treat Miss Dana with the same respect you show me.
You will also obey any order she might give you, just as you would if I had
said it."
"Of course, Mistress," he replied.
I looked at him sharply. "What do you mean,'of course'?" I snapped.
"That sounds rather forward to me. Are you implying that my
instructions are unnecessary?"
"No....no, Mistress....I didn't mean...."
"Don't start arguing with me, slave. I've taught you better than
that."
His head bowed. "I sincerely beg your pardon, Mistress," he said in
his most deferential manner. "I would never do that purposely."
"Well," I responded, "that's how it sounded, and I'm not entirely
satisfied. Go and fetch me the strap."
"Yes, Mistress...."
He returned shortly thereafter with a light brown, single-thonged
leather strap that I like to use to correct minor faults. Dropping to his
knees, he presented it to me on upturned, open palms. If anyone of you thinks
he mightn't deserve punishment for such a slight offense, let me say this
again. Whenever your slave shows signs of reaching above his station, it is
your duty to slap him back down. Whether or not my assumption about his
offense was valid is immaterial. The point here is that it's better to punish
him for an uncommitted offense, than to let a genuine offense go unpunished.
"Take your position," I ordered.
"Pete, who, as is customary in my house, was dressed in nothing more
than a restrainer. He quickly turned and, still kneeling, pressed his nose
into the carpet and raised his hindquarters as high as he possibly could.
Without getting up from my chair, I gave him five strokes across the bottom.
He didn't so much as utter a peep, but then again, it was a very mild
punishment, what with my being seated and all. I merely wanted to remind him
that he must always watch his step.
He remained in that ludicrous position (humiliating for him, amusing
for me, lovely combination, don't you think?) until he heard me say, "Put the
strap away."
Pete returned the strap to its proper place, in the drawer in the
kitchen. That particular drawer also contained a much heavier tawse, several
canes, and a couple of riding crops. He had felt the effects of each of them
at various times. He returned to where I sat, and knelt; complaisant;
uncomplaining; submissive. Just as he should be.
"When Miss Dana arrives," I said, "you will greet her at the door, on
your knees. You will inform her that you are my slave and that you will be
honored to serve her in any fashion she might choose. You will then ask her
if, following her journey here, she would have you clean her shoes. If the
answer is yes, you will clean them thoroughly with your tongue, soles to not
be overlooked."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Very well, then. Go and resume your duties. Prepare a light dinner
fer the two of us, and put two bottles of white burgundy in the refrigerator
to chill. Dismissed!"
Pete rose from his knees, bowed deeply, and left the room. I had that
warm, pleasant feeling that comes from knowing that I had him completely under
my control. You know that feeling, I'm sure.
Dana arrived at the stroke of seven... and Pete was in the vestibule,
prepared to properly greet her. He opened the door, and immediately dropped
to his knees, his face a bright red in color. Closing the door behind her,
Dana regarded him with a contemptuous little smirk. "What have we here?" she
asked of me, as I entered the hallway to meet her.
"Haven't I told you...or, more to the point.... hasn't he told you?" I
said.
"He hasn't had much chance," smiled Dana. She is a lovely girl, just
nineteen, with long blonde hair. I am very fond of her, having known her
about four years now.
"I...I am the slave of Mistress Zelda," Pete was saying with some
urgency, his voice strained. "I shall be honored to serve you in any w-way,
Miss. May I....may I clean your shoes, Miss?"
"I'll think about it," replied Dana curtly, flouncing her tight little
body right past his face, and on into the living room. She had on a red
blouse, a white jacket, and a pair of baggy white pants, the legs tucked
inside calf-length boots with high heels. She had a look of amusement on her
face. Reaching the living room, she slumped happily into an armchair.
"Drink?" I asked.
"Mmmm...yes, please. Gin and tonic, I think."
"Sounds good. Pete!"
Pete needed no further instructions. He bowed and scurried out and,
in a remarkably short space of time was back carrying two drinks on a silver
serving dish. We each took one and sipped. "Passable," said Dana, giving
Pete a long, cool look. "What's it's name?"
"Pete," I said. "He's been my personal slave for about a month, now."
"Satisfactory?"
"When he isn't, he hears all about it."
Dana rinned. "Pete, do you realize that if this drink had not been to
my liking, I would have asked your Mistress for permission to punish you?"
"And received it!" I piped in.
"I...I understand, Miss," said Pete, respectfully. "I would have
deserved it."
Dana looked smugly satisfied with this answer.
"All right, Pete. Since you asked, I suppose you can clean my boots."
"Thank you, Miss," came the reply. Pete fell to his knees again and
was soon busily licking the red leather; thoroughly. At one point, Dana
raised one foot, exposing the sole. Pete thoroughly licked that, also. All
this time, Dana and I chatted about this and that, just as we would have, had
Pete not been there. He was a chattel; of no concern, just being used.
"Another drink?" I asked Dana.
"Lovely.." she smiled. Pete, who had just finished his cleaning task,
got a sharp kick in the ribs, which sent him sprawling.
"More drinks, slave," I snapped.
"At once, Mistress." Showing not the least sign of resentment, he
bowed, picked up the empty glasses, and retired.
"You seem to have him fairly well trained, for no longer than he's
been here," said Dana, in Pete's absence.
Well, he used to come to me regularly. Now he stays a minimum of
three, sometimes longer. He's certainly useful."
"Mmmm...I can imagine," mused Dana. "Maybe I should fix myself up
with something like this. A semi-permanent slave could have its advantages.
What about sex?"
"None for him, of course. Plenty of work for his tongue, though. Very
satisfying."
"He's good at it?"
"Very..." Pete came in with our fresh drinks and we quit talking. It
wouldn't do for him to hear how highly his talent was rated.
After dinner, which had been well prepared and served by Pete, Dana
told me she had a slight problem. A girl friend would be coming to visit her
the next weekend, but the slave she had intended to use for domestic duties,
had fallen ill.
"Why don't you borrow Pete," I said at once. It was just the sort of
opportunity I had been needing to help round out his training. Pete looked
suitably apprehensive at hearing my generous offer. The unknown is always a
bit frightening.
"Really? Won't you need him yourself?"
"I never use him weekends," I said. "I go to the country, where I
have other arrangements."
"Oh. Well, how kind of you to offer. All right, I accept! Can he
come around Friday afternoon?"
"Sure," I agreed.
"Well, thanks so much. I feel like I should pay you something,
though."
I laughed. "What did you have in mind?"
Dana smiled a wicked little smile. "Mmm..how about fifty cents?"
"Done! That's just about what he's worth for two or three days hard
labor!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pete looking terribly dejected by
this appraisal of his worth. "Coffee and liquers in the other room?"
"Fine!"
"Pete....hop to it! Then clean up this mess. When you're done,
report back to me."
"Very good, Mistress," he responded. Once more he hurried off about
his chores. Yes... I must say, I was rather pleased by Pete's manners and the
quality of his service. He reflected well on my abilities as a trainer. Dana
was favorably impressed, I could see. That thought made me smile.
"Why don't you stay the night?"
"Sounds good to me," Dana replied. She and I had often slept together
in past years, but recently seemed to have drifted apart. A little bubble of
sexual pleasure welled up in me at the thought of our getting together again.
Just then, Pete knocked on the door and was told to enter. He bowed,
the little apron he used for kitchen work no longer about his waist. "I have
finished my domestic duties, Mistress." He stood there, attentive and
deferential, but his eyes showed his concern for the future.
"Miss Dana will be staying the night," I announced. "See that
everything we require is laid out in my bedroom."
"Yes, Mistress..." he bowed and left. That will puzzle him for a
while, I thought. What should he lay out?
A half hour later, both of us flushed from an excess of Creme de
Menthe, we made our way into the bedroom. The bedside lamps were on,
nighties, towels and the like were laid out neatly. I was pleased.
"Where is he?" asked Dana, stretching langorously, then tossing up her
long blonde tresses.
"In his quarters, I imagine," I replied.
"I want him to undress me," she said. "I'm feeling kind of lazy."
"OK. I'll get him up right away." I pressed the intercom key, and
summoned Pete to come.
He entered, looking slightly disturbed, no doubt sensing that this
summons would mean trouble.
"Boy?" said Dana. "Let's see if you're worth that fifty cents I spent
on you. Come here and undress me!"
Pete gulped. "Yes, Miss," he said submissively. I could see that he
was both frightened and excited. Dana sat on the bed, as Pete knelt before
her and pried off her boots. "Do you like the idea of being my slave," she
asked him.
"I am honored," Paul gave the safest answer he could think of.
"You will find me strict." Dana stood up. "I like to use the cane a
lot. It excites me."
"Yes, Miss..." Pete helped her out of her jacket, then began to
unbutton her blouse. I could see him battling to control his emotions, but
his fingers were moving very clumsily. The blouse came away and a beautiful
pair of apple-sized breasts were revealed, lightly clad in a gossamer red bra.
Pete caught his breath.
"d..Do you w..wish me to undress you completely, Miss?" he asked.
"Do it!" Dana gave him a hard slap scross the face. "When I say
undress, I mean undress! Is he always this thick-headed?"
"I guess so," I replied, watching Pete's fingers fumble with the belt
which held up Dana's white pants. The belt loose, he carefully eased her
pants down. A pair of red, net panties was exposed. Pete was flushing now,
his fingers trembling. He kept nervously swallowing. The bra came off next,
and, much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Dana
just stood there easily, smirking, proud and confident in her ripe young
beauty. Carefully...very carefully...Pete removed her wispy little panties,
to uncover a triangle of soft, blonde down. Enchanting...quite breath-taking,
I thought. Pete, no doubt, was thinking the same. The difference was,
though, that Pete was to be denied, whereas I would soon be having my fill.
In the meantime, I too had stripped...and for a short while, Dana and
I stood looking at each other, critically but approvingly. My desire only
increased.
"Do you think this sort of thing turns him on?" asked Dana.
"I'm sure it does." I nodded.
"I'd like to see..."
"If you wish. No problem." I took the key, hanging from a gold chain
around my neck, and unlocked Pete's restrainer. He gave a little sob as it
came away. The pressure must have been great, for he rose almost immediately
to a full erection.
"My, oh my!! He certainly IS turned on!" gloated Dana. She moved
provocatively closer to Pete and gripped him by the cock. He gasped and
flinched, dreading what might happen. "You're not a very big boy, are you,
Pete?"
"No...No, Miss I'm not."
I saw a tear trickle down his cheek.
Still Dana kept after him. "You KNOW you're not," she smiled,
squeezing. "It's a pity, Pete, but I wouldn't be able to enjoy myself, as
tiny as it is. I'm sorry, Pete." Her grin went from ear to ear.
"Would you like for him to go down on you, Dana?" I offered.
"Not a bad idea," she said. "But what about you?"
"He can alternate between us."
"Mmmm..yes! That sounds wonderful." She released her grip on him and
flopped back down on the bed. "Come on, now big boy," she sighed. "Let's put
that tongue of yours to work." Her shapely slender limbs parted, and in
seconds, Pete's head was nestled between a pair of soft, warm thighs. Dana
sighed contentedly; I could hear faint lapping sounds. A happy night was
shaping up. After Dana's first climax, at which time she had violently bucked
against Pete's mouth and wrenched him away, Pete went to work on pleasing me.
We could keep him at this for as long as either of us desired. That was the
joy, the essence of having a slave. You don't have to ask or coddle him, you
merely demand; and an avid, talented tongue goes to work.
Pleasantly relaxed, I lay on the bed, awaiting my turn. My rising
excitement was boosted even higher by the thought of the agonizing frustration
that Pete had to be feeling. And would continue to feel for a good long
while, yet.
Dana and I used Pete twice each before turning our attentions toward
each other. When we had finished with him, I tied his wrists behind his back
and had him go kneel at the foot of the bad. As I told Dana, "We'll keep him
there, just in case we want to use him again, later."
"Mmmm...good idea," she murmured lazily. Then, already fully aroused,
we were in each others arms. Oh, what joy! Body against body...lust against
lust. Soon sighs, moans, and little cries of bliss were filling the room.
Every time I looked down at Pete, his eyes glazed over, I rose to another
peak....and poor Petey...helplessly bound, all he could do was watch, and
suffer a rampant frustration.
"Yeah, a slave's life isn't always roses. (stifle that giggle, girl!)
Next morning, Pete's mouth was put to work again. Dana insisted that
he lick each and every inch of her glorious body, from the neck down, then
concentrate his efforts between her tight little ass-cheeks, and then finally,
on the most exciting, most excitable spot of them all. She was enjoying
herself so much, I decided to have him to the same for me. Let me assure you
that there was one very, very tired tongue in that room by the time we were
satiated.
"Go take a cold shower," I ordered him, "and get rid of that nasty,
horrible thing that's sticking out."
"Yes, Mistress," still uncomplaining, still deferential. I felt
proud of myself for the excellent job of training him I had done. Off he
went, as I turned back to Dana. Then I started to wonder if Pete might risk
jacking off while in the shower. He HAD been under an awful lot of pressure
for one day. Still, I didn't think he would. The reason being that, at the
outset, I had warned him that, if ever I caught him playing with himself
without permission, I would give him a thrashing that he would remember for
the remainder of his born days. Fifty strokes, at least! He knew I meant it,
too, so I was confident that he wouldn't dare disobey me.
In due time, he returned, his hard-on a thing of the past, by whatever
means. There was no way of knowing the truth, so I just let it slide. Then,
suddenly, I had a way!
"Go run a bath for Miss Dana," I told him, "then come back here."
When he returned and Dana had left for her bath, I told him to get
some oil and massage my breasts, a frequent duty of his. No sooner was he
fondling my tits, but sure as anything, his little dick started climbing! I
smiled to myself, satisfied. He had resisted the temptation. He had obeyed
his Mistress.
Shortly afterwards, his restrainer was locked back into place, the key
back on the chain around my neck.
* * * * * * * *
Thus it was that, on the following Friday, I sent Pete off to Dana's
house for the weekend, with a few final instructions. "You will serve and
obey her just as diligently as you would for me."
"Yes, Mistress.." Petey didn't look like a very happy boy that
morning. I'd have loved a Polaroid just then! He had the distinct feeling
that the pretty, young blonde would not be easily pleased. "When you return
here, I shall have a *special* duty for you."
He look at me with big, sad eyes. "Yes, Mistress?"
"You will write out a full account of your servitude to Miss Dana and
present it to me upon completion. It will, of course, be the truth. I don't
want to have to check up on you with Miss Dana."
"I...I will do as you say, Mistress..."
"Of COURSE you will," I rasped, giving him a pair of hard slaps.
"I m-meant....I..I'm not very good with words, Mistress..."
Don't answer back!"
"I beg pardon, Mistress." How simply exquisite it felt to flatten him
with words, knowing all the time he hadn't earned it. Just one of the simple
pleasures of having a slave.
I took the chain from my neck, and his eyes went wide as saucers. Was
he going to be permitted relief? Nah, not a prayer of a chance.
"The first thing you will do, upon arrival, is deliver this key to Miss
Dana. It will symbolize her ownership of you."
"I understand, Mistress," he said, looking so crestfallen.
"Go put on your jogging sweats and shoes; nothing else."
"Very good, Mistress," he answered, and left the room.
He was back soon, dressed as I had directed him to. I must say, he
did look rather pathetic, like a lost little puppy. Wonder if he'll miss me,
I thought with an inner chuckle.
"Off you go, then."
He hesitated, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say
'Goodbye'. Apparently, the stupidity of that remark broke over him. Bowing
once more, he silently departed.
It wasn't until after he had left, that I realized that, having the
key, there was little to prevent him from unlocking the restrainer himself,
prior to reaching Dana's house. Foolish me! I sure handed him a golden
opportunity. This time, I felt he would use it.
Then, I had to reconsider. I had told him to walk there, which would
take thirty minutes. Were he to try something forbidden, he would not get
there in the time allotted. Hmmmm...seemed to me, I might ought to give Dana
a jingle to tell her he was on his merry way.
END
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