An evening with my Mistress – a non-fiction story

Ring Ring Ring Ring,… the impatient doorbell tells me, my Mistress has arrived. I rise from the couch, removing my house slippers and vest. Taking my glasses off. I walk downstairs and only see her shadow behind the door, my Mistress has arrived. My heart beats faster, and I feel the excitement in my body. I open the door, greeting my Mistress “Good evening Ma’am.” After I close the door, I kneel and kiss her shoes. That is how my Mistress wants it.

I stand up, walk up and open the living room door, showing my Mistress the way. I ask for her coat, the weather being cold, and hang it in the hall.

Politely I ask what she would like to drink. I wash my hands and reach for the glass that only recently has been polished to a shine. I rinse and polish it once more. My Mistress is a perfectionist and can be quite unforgiving if there’s even a small spot. I pour her a white wine, making certain it is chilled to perfection. I walk towards her, I kneel and offer her the glass, I feel nervous, excited, I Love this feeling of tension.

Am I performing well? My Mistress has such high standards. I expect a nice evening but there’s also the unknown, what will she do? How will she treat me?

We begin to talk for a short while. Our conversation is suddenly cut short as the telephone rings. My mother, I cannot decline her call.

The focus on Mistress is gone and the atmosphere changes. After some time, my mother ends the call. I apologise to my Mistress and remark to her, “That this is one of the few times I need you wait, Mistress.” She tells me that she fully understands. We take up things from where we were. I sit next to her on the sofa, so that my Mistress has full access to my breasts, which soon hang over my top. My Mistress just loves to adorn them with deep hickeys, all over. Then, my Mistress instructs me to move into the bedroom quickly. I stand, feeling giddy with excitement, but what lies there for me?

So many things we have not come around to doing that I know of. And possibly just as many that I don’t know of. Rules. Guidance. I undress slowly. My Mistress fastens my wrist and ankle cuffs and I present myself to her.

Now it’s up to my Mistress (that is always the case, all of the time, but now I can only wait for my Mistress to use me). She puts a gag in and a blindfold on.

Sitting, I am tied and bound. Oh, this evening she lusts after my tits! My 34″C mammon’s, with my nipples pierced and sensitive. Arrrgggghhh, I shudder with fear, pleasure and excitement, can I cope with that? Then my Mistress starts.

While I endure it and submit to my Mistress’s Will, I don’t feel an ounce a masochist.

Ouch! That one really hurt, I wince, and shut my eyes behind the blindfold. It was hard, but manageable. One stroke is unlike the other, but sometimes I feel like I could sink into the ground. It is just a figure of speech really, because I stay put and offer my Mistress my chest. In a show of respect to my Mistress I stick them out further after each stroke, even though the pain is beginning to become too much for me!

It has been only a few times, but I cannot manage this because of the pain, it causes me to cringe. Ooowwww! Sometimes, I feel my nipples getting hit. Even more painful when my Mistress does that but I have a fear as well. What if my Mistress knocks off my nipple rings?

Now and then my Mistress takes a short break and her hands gently caresses my boobs. It feels lovingly but is it? Then my Mistress tells me “fifteen more to go, surely you can manage that?” I nod, the gag does not allow for a more formal response. I keep count in my head. At last (pff) the fifteenth is delivered. So, I endured that.

My Mistress removes my gag and blindfold. Sits quietly in front of me. Hmm, appreciative, my eyes wander over her breasts, but not too long, don’t want to stare. “How are you, my girl?” she asks.

“Good Ma’am, it was hard but doable.” I reply to my Mistress.

“Do you want more?” I am asked. I need time to think about this, my Mistress is putting me in a quandary.

I respond that, “this is a Catch-22 situation.” But my Mistress being some twenty years younger than me, doesn’t understand the reference. I explain about the movie and offer to lend her the film. “In short, either way I’m fucked,” I say. I want to say I do not really want to go on. But that I can. I think that my Mistress would want me to continue to endure, and now that I come to think about that, I do want to — continue that is. My Mistress always comes first. I state that I want to continue — for her. And she does continue. More pain. No gag or blindfold. Relax! Inhale, exhale! And I present myself! Finally, it is really over. And I know that, had Mistress asked me again, I once again would have pleaded her to continue.

I have become sweaty and Mistress orders me to wash up (by now you will have understood that this Mistress is a sucker for cleanliness) and fix my makeup.

We talk and then she abruptly grabs me by the neck. I have talked back! That is NOT allowed. And I do not want to do that, but apparently I did. Not off to the bathroom, but down on my knees next to bed. Extremely hard, the strap lands on my bottom. After a few strokes I go down, crying. After the earlier ordeal, I cannot endure anymore. “Go,” she says, “it is not sufficient punishment, but for now it is enough.” I sigh and am sad, trying to remember what I should not have said but apparently did, but I can’t, only know that I wish I had not said it.

Back on the bed it is time to get fucked. Mistress and her property are, length-wise, not really a match. I should position myself lower or higher and if I stand up I slip on the floor. It is not really pleasurable, but it is Mistress’s wish, to show her dominance and power over me. To own me, in each and every way.

After my cunt, she claims my arse and when Mistress penetrates me at full length and her thighs slap mine, it really feels good. Then I am allowed to lie down. Mistress grabs the largest dildo and tries to push into my tight cunt. Ai! “Relax,” she says and I try but it isn’t easy and a short time later I have grown accustomed to it and it succeeds more than that it doesn’t. But the dildo is so large and I become nauseous. The pain, I think, and the intensity and the exertions. I alert Mistress and now she is finished with me, spoons behind me and her arms hold and comfort her property.

I relax and feel… So many feelings, tired and still slightly nauseous, but also fulfilled and satisfied. Full of affection for my Mistress — but how hard did she handle me. In truth I would not have it any other way. I tell her that the moment she very sweetly seduced me to continue some more, a felt a wave of Love for her gushing through my veins. “You don’t hate me then?” she asks. Certainly I don’t. She plays my feelings in a devilish way, she urges me to take it and some more, and really hurts me. In the moment, it is not only nice, but afterwards I feel like I’m in heaven.

As I am now. When we have gone back to the living room, Mistress needs to leave. I say goodbye, kiss her shoes and clean them in the process. Still slightly nauseous and greatly exhausted, I soon retire to bed. I sleep heavenly.