Erotica Short: A Quick Scene

Nothing really deep here, just a quickie little (hopefully) sexy fantasy written from a woman's point of view.  

https://fursissy.wordpress.com/2018/02/16/erotica-short-a-quick-scene/

fs02 - Arc 4 completed

I just posted Arc 4 of fs02.

You can find it here;
https://fursissy.wordpress.com/femdom-erotica/

fs02 Arc 3 Completed

https://fursissy.wordpress.com/femdom-erotica/fs02-a-dommes-view/

I have completed fs01.

https://fursissy.wordpress.com/femdom-erotica/femdom-erotica-fs01/

The final chapter is 84.  Overall word count ~254,000.

I have updated the links for Chapter 76 and beyond to link to the Wordpress blog.

I do not plan to post here anymore for the time being.

fs02 is in the works with two chapters completed and a slew of ideas on the way. 
It will be here:
https://fursissy.wordpress.com/

Fiction: fs01 Visual: fs's uniform

It's been a while since I drew anything.

A couple of days ago I drew a rendition of fs's uniform (version 3).  This isn't concrete as I'm sure people have their various mental images of it.  This is just what I had pictured in my own mind.

The locking harness is a bit different, mostly because it wasn't really going to show up very well from the front view and would need side/rear views to appear full.  My solution was to add a few more straps and make the locks visible in the front.  If things look a little bit huge and outrageous, I actually used models for these and matched the proportions and actually shrunk them a bit vs. how the actual items appeared.  I also chose the color scheme based more upon contrast and they are a little different than the original way that I imagined it.   Doesn't he look happy?

I did a modification just to show the gag and blindfold that attach to the head harness through some mythical locking mechanism that I never fully explain.  In my mind I had pictured something along the lines of the locks that you would find on a portfolio style briefcase that could be attached very easily but would require a key to remove.

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Love

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Love

Dear Ms. C.

When I read about what you do to your sub I can’t believe that he doesn’t hate you. You say that you love him but I don’t believe it. I don’t see how a man would put up with a woman who is so bitchy and mean to him.

-The Man

Normally I reserve “Question and Answer” to answer questions, but every few months I receive some variation of this statement and today I felt like addressing the topic. To put it create a question worth answering. I will rephrase this into: If you love your sub how can you be so cruel to him?

I am cruel to my sub because I love him. I love him dearly. I love him so much that I spent years carefully crafting an environment and system of dynamics that keep him completely under my thumb. He is the only man I desire in my life. He is wonderful and obedient. He gives all of himself to me and loves me with his entire being.

My sub thrives under cruelty and control. The more unfair the circumstances, the more he rises to the occasion. I press him to bring out the best in him and he rarely disappoints. He feels good and proud knowing that I help him reach his potential. He is absolutely happy knowing that I shape him into the form I desire most. He is special. Lots of subs talk the talk but so few will give themselves like he does. I love him absolutely and cannot picture my life without him.

That being said, I am careful in the amount of positive attention that I give him. If he feels that he can easily please me he will grow lazy. If he feels that he will be able to completely satisfy me he will lose the emphatic fervor that drives him. While he knows that I love him, it is when he fears that I may find a reason to make him suffer that I see his best effort. Seeing this from him makes me happy and he is happy when he pleases me.

I think it would be more cruel if I were to stop our dynamics. Since I love him, I would never wish that upon him.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Privacy

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Privacy

Dear Ms. C.

I wish that I could show my pet off to everyone but we keep our relationship completely private to the outside world due to privacy concerns. How were you overcome the privacy obstacle and make your relationship known to your friends as well as bringing your sub out in public?

-Always Learning

Thank you, A.L., that is a very good question.

When it comes to “outing” yourself it really depends heavily upon how strong of a relationship you have with your nearest and dearest friends. You must trust them absolutely for this to feel safe. It’s often easier to simply make some kinky friends where they have a natural understanding of discretion. I consider myself a fairly good judge of character and I generally keep myself quite guarded around those who I don’t trust. The people in my life that are aware of our lifestyle I have known for years and in many cases they are just as kinky as we are.

Bringing my sub out in public isn’t that big of a deal when our destination is someplace kinky. In those environments people generally understand that they are just as susceptible to being outed as you are. For example, if someone announces that they saw you with your sub at the Kitty Kat Club on fetish night, it means they too were at the same club on fetish night.

In all honesty, in today’s age of social media it is probably better to be safe than sorry. If you have any doubts, it is very reasonable to err on the side of caution. I will say that over the years I find myself less and less concerned about people finding out that I am a dominant woman. I wear the pants. I keep my submissive husband’s balls in my purse. I don’t lift a finger around the house and he waits on me like a Queen. If others found out about that I have a feeling some of them would be quite jealous and in most cases, my sub would be more distraught than I would be and that makes things a little bit fun.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Locks

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time after Arc 1.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Locks

Dear Ms. C.

Would you be willing to shed light on something for me? Do you have a fascination with locks and restraints? Your sub is obedient yet you lock him into his uniform. You chain his hands before putting him in a cage. I guess I just don’t understand why you do these things as they seem a bit excessive, unnecessary, and needlessly complicated.

-Casual Domina

I do have a fascination with locks and restraints, CD, and I do not mind sharing the reasons with you. I like them mostly because of how they affect my sub on a psychological level. When he finds something unpleasant, any hint of freedom or power leaves the door open for mental resistance. These situations make certain parts of his obedience “optional,” as compliance becomes his choice. Locks help to erase any resistance and push him to a state of total surrender. That is the way that I like him best.

Early on I would occasionally get frustrated with rigging up complicated restraints, but practice makes perfect. When you weigh in the amount of effort it takes me to lock him up versus the effects it has on his submission, I always consider it worthwhile. Twenty seconds on my part to ensure that he struggles in discomfort for hours? Sign me up.

To be completely honest, I would still lock him up even if he achieved total surrender on his own. The look on his face when I put the locks on his uniform and let him know that one of my employees will be delivering something to the house while he is home is absolutely delicious.

END

A taste of fiction

So I wrote some bonus chapters for fs01 today.  A sort of mock Q&A with Cassandra on her fictitious blog.

Part 76 is still half finished.  I wrote a few more sentences on it today but I am blocked from channeling fs.

I have been blocked since the events leading to my post, Solving the Puzzle of my Submission and have been unable to obtain the mindset I use to write fiction.  The feelings that would take me there are just gone.

It is a bit frustrating but it is the difference between writing feeling like pulling teeth vs. having a thousand words flow out in 15 minutes. It also changes how genuine it feels to me while I write it.

I'm searching for a way to get there.

For those who started reading since I last published a chapter of fiction, the Table of Contents has links to every chapter.

I do have the majority of Arc 9 mapped out.  While I was planning on wrapping up the story there I do have a 10th arc ready with notes to be the true ending as well as a handful of bonus chapters that will accompany Arc 9.  I hope I can get back to it soon.

PS.  In the meantime if anyone has a question they would like answered on a Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter, feel free to send it to me or post it here.

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Women

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time after Arc 1.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter Q & A: Women

Dear Ms. C.

If your husband is a male submissive, why do you have so many romantic relationships with women? Do you have some sort of cuckold fantasy? Why not with men?

-Exploring Life

Oh, these are some very difficult questions to answer, Exploring Life, and while I have thought about them before, I was never able to get any clear answers.

Why I don’t have relationships with other men is easy. My submissive is the only man I will ever want. I love him and he is my perfect match. No other man could ever mean what he means to me.

As for women, I find them beautiful and attractive. In many ways I relate better to women and I tend to expect more of them as people and they challenge me. It’s not that I’m a female supremacist or anything, I just have found that men are a puzzle that is easy to solve, while women tend to be more well-rounded and complicated. I would be plenty happy if I spent the rest of my life with only my husband.

A few years ago I did an experiment where I started to slowly bring to life some fantasies that my sub had written for me during the first few months of our relationship. One of those fantasies was to have me take on a woman lover that would diminish his role in the relationship. I will be the first to admit that I made a mistake with K, but since then, my sub definitely seems to respond positively when there is another woman involved as long as I make sure to give him adequate attention. You should see how eager he is to be used by the both of us.

As for how this pertains to the future, I will be honest when I say that I honestly don’t know. There are times when I regret having diminished my sub’s personality to such an extent that I crave a more active companion that I can see as an equal. There are other times when I am absolutely certain that other women are just for fun and that my heart is with my sub. Only time will tell.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Rewards

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Rewards

Dear Ms. C.

You write all about the punishments and torments you put your sub through but what about rewards? Doesn’t he deserve rewards for a job well done?

-underher84

There was a time early on in the relationship where my sub would earn his orgasms with good behavior and service and the like. That was the dynamic as we both were feeling our way through the lifestyle. My sub is intelligent, enthusiastic, competent, and a fast learner. This soon became boring. Every week he would earn his rewards. The times where I would punish him got less and less. Every week it was the same, week in and week out. His enthusiasm waned. My enthusiasm waned. It’s too bad a snorgasm isn’t a thing because I would have had plenty.

This got me thinking about our relationship and the direction I wanted it to go. I wanted total control… total ownership. My sub is so submissive when I am around that he doesn’t need a carrot to “be good.” He is heavily driven by wanting to see me smile and fear of disappointing me. He wants to be perfect for me.

I still remember the day that I got him naked and on his knees in front of me. “I expect perfection from you. Your reward is the knowledge that you performed your duty faithfully and obediently and that I keep you in my service. Anything less than perfection will be punished severely and corrected until you are perfect at all times. Do you understand?” It was adorable the way his eyes went to the floor and he nodded slowly. His penis was standing straight up when a tiny little voice spoke, “Yes, Mistress.” That is such a wonderful memory. This brought our relationship back to life and since then he always tries his best without complaint. He knows nothing is guaranteed. He loves that I bring out the best in him.

Now I feel almost silly when I think about it. The idea of rewarding him for something he is expected to do seems rather silly. I’m sure he would feel the same way. When he looks into my eyes and sees that I love him, that is the only reward he needs.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Pegging

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Pegging

Dear Ms. C.

Why do you peg your sub so much when you make it so obvious that he hates it?

-WTF?

It’s not really about what he likes or hates, is it?

Pegging has always been a bit of a turn on for me. It wasn’t long before I discovered the early generations of double-ended dildos that really gave it a life of its own. The Feeldoe and Nexus got me hooked and the Reverb* made it my activity of choice. There’s something powerful about having a cock between your legs. I want to touch it. I want to stroke it. Most of all, I want to fuck something with it. It makes me a bit crazy.

As for pegging my sub, do you really think I would do it as often as I do if he really liked it and wanted it? A large part of my enjoyment comes from knowing that he hates it. He hates it but suffers through it willingly for me to make me happy. In his tears I sense his devotion and love. It’s really quite romantic. I do make sure to give him some aftercare as I know how much it stresses him.

I do love milking him this way. I adore it when his locked up penis dribbles out a stream from me pegging him. I think I know what I’ll be doing tonight. *Grin*.

*A fictitious double-ended dildo that delivers a great amount of pleasure to the wearer when pressure is applied to the exposed end.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Jealousy

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Jealousy

Dear Ms. C.

I love reading your blog but any time you write about your friends using your sub it makes me cringe a little. Don’t you feel jealous when he does things for them? Whenever we go to gatherings or play parties I keep thinking, “hey, don’t touch my stuff,” if a woman gets anywhere near my sub.

-Domina Valerie

That is a very good question, Ms. Valerie.

I am very careful about who I let into my circle. I trust my friends deeply and have tremendous respect for them. When I temporary place my sub in their service I do not feel jealous at all. My friends may use him a bit but they do not wish either of us harm or wish to take him from me. My sub is so devoted to me that he is willing to serve them as he would me because he wants to represent me well to others. In these cases I think of it as offering to have him mow their lawn or loaning them a vibrator.

Outside of that, I try to be careful with what I expose my sub to. If I bring him someplace where he may be approached, that goes with the territory. I also have no problem with marking my territory. If someone continues to press and pry, wants to violate our personal space or the boundaries of respect and common decency, I will react. I tend to think of that as being more protective than jealous though. I am proud of my sub and do want others to know how proud of him I am and I will gladly show him off to those who wish to know more about him. I see their interest as more of a compliment to me than a worry about someone taking him.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Guilt

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Guilt

Dear Ms. C.

I absolutely adore your blog but I do have to ask. Do you ever feel guilty for putting your sub through so much?

-Ms. L.

Thank you, Ms. L. Guilt depends on a lot of things.

I have hurt my sub before. Hurt him badly. Hurt him by accident. Hurt him without meaning to. Hurt him because of decisions I have made. Yes, I feel terribly guilty for all of these things. I agonize over them when they happen. Sometimes I have to take a drive just so I can sit and cry. I talk to him about it. He always forgives me. He trusts that the bad things happen when I am thinking of the good of our relationship. I still feel bad, but I learn from it. I do not make the same mistakes twice.

As for normal, ordinary things like punishing him, denying him pleasure, or using him, I feel no guilt whatsoever. We both enjoy this. We both love each other. He thrives on being pushed deeper and deeper into submission. I love his willingness to bend and break under me. It feels so right, why should I feel guilty?

It takes time to reach this state. It doesn’t happen overnight. The loving bonds and trust must be grown organically and they cannot be rushed.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Fur

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time after Arc 1.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Fur

Dear Ms. C.

I’ve been a long-time lurker and I love reading your blog. I’m just curious but what is it about fur that makes it such an important part of your relationship?

-Curious Observer

This is a very fair question, C.O., and I will try to answer it as best I can.

I love how fur feels. I love how it looks. I love how wearing it makes me feel. I left my previous career because I felt too cramped and stifled. When I emerged as a Domme I decided to focus on what I like and what feels good to me. I wear what I like and what makes me feel the best about myself. I like other things as well, but fur is one of my favorites.

The role of fur in our relationship is mutual. My sub loves the way that I dress. It turns him on and he can barely keep his eyes off of me. This makes both of us feel good and it goes back to the start of our relationship. We met on an adult dating site and my ad was titled, “Venus in Furs seeks a Severin to compliment her Wanda.”

I should add that my sub’s fur-trimmed maid’s uniform was originally the brainchild of my former sub, K. She twisted his fur fetish into something horribly embarrassing and dreadful. I keep it going because it amuses me.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Feminization

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time after Arc 1.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Feminization

Dear Ms. C.

Why do you feminize your sub in such a way when he obviously dislikes it? Shouldn’t that kind of thing be consensual? Isn’t humiliating him like that a bit abusive? It seems cruel and unfair.

-subguy89

It seems I get asked questions like these about once a month. If you read my earlier Question & Answer posts you will see that I have answered these questions in some capacity several times over.

Our lifestyle is one that was built up slowly over deep levels of love and trust. We entered into this relationship with both eyes open. It was 100% consensual and I made no secret that I expected his total obedience. He promised he would do whatever it took to make me happy. I don’t understand how it can appear unfair for us to simply do what we agreed to do. He made his choice just as I made mine.

Cruel? Certainly. I first feminized him as part of one of his old fantasies and to display his new role in our household as my maid. I continue to feminize him because he dislikes it. It is a symbol of my control and power over him. It’s easy to make a sub do what he wants to do. I like watching a sub squirm as I order them to do what they do not want to do. Partly why I keep changing up his uniform is that I never want him to get used to it and have it feel normal.

I love watching him blush and the expression his face makes when he feels shame. I love seeing him squirm and writhe in his own skin when I show him off to my friends. This brings me hours of amusement every single day. I am absolutely certain if you asked him that he would rather suffer for my amusement than feel normal and deny me that pleasure. This is part of how we show our love for each other.

Humiliating? Absolutely. Abusive? Hardly.

If you wish to judge me for how the dynamics of our relationship differ from your ideas that is your loss. We have had eight happy years together to evolve us to this state and it is unlikely we will resemble some one-off BDSM scene between two parties who barely know each other.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Fantasy

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time after Arc 5.

---------------

Cassandra’s Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Fantasy

Dear Ms. C.

Do you have any fantasies you have yet to experience? Please share them with us.

-wellhung69

As much as I hate to cater to requests for masturbation fodder, you wrote in complete sentences and said please so I suppose I will answer this.

Ever since we acted out the slave fantasy I have been battling with the urge to evolve the dynamics in our relationship. The thought of completely enslaving him and reducing him to chattel just puts me into a spiral. Part of me wants it so badly but part of me wants to keep him as he is and once we make that step there is no turning back.

So yes, my fantasy is to reduce my sub to a slave with no rights and torment him on a daily basis like his feelings don’t matter at all. I want to be able to sell him if I chose to (even though I doubt I ever would). I want to replace his name with a number. I want him to be all mine and do with him what I please. I want power. I want control. I want them absolutely.

The thought of this breaks my heart but other organs find it quite appealing.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter: Chastity

Author’s Note: This bonus chapter is a mock Question and Answer session done by Cassandra on her blog. It could take place at any time after Arc 1.

---------------

Cassandra's Blog Bonus Chapter - Q & A: Chastity

Dear Ms. C.

You write about keeping your sub chaste on an almost permanent basis. I’m new to the lifestyle and just don’t understand what the appeal of chastity is for both Domme and sub. Would you please share your thoughts on what you like about it so that I can try to understand?

-ShyMiss

Thank you for the wonderful question, ShyMiss. I remember a time when chastity didn’t make sense to me either. I enjoy sex and the thought of removing that from the equation felt like I would be losing an intimate act that brings me pleasure. While I took control of my sub’s orgasms at the beginning of the relationship, it took several years before I put him in a chastity device. This was done at the behest of my former sub K, but somewhere down the road something changed.

I realized that I love control more than I love intercourse. I love that his pleasure and relief are kept under my lock and key. I love that his sexual frustration makes him ache for me. I love how every time he attempts an erection it reminds him of being owned. I love the way that prolonged chastity has changed how he thinks and has made him more submissive. His orgasms happen so infrequently that his entire focus is on my pleasure.

I still get a bit giddy when I think about it. I completely own his cock and I love it.

If I want to be completely honest, I have to say that there is a darker side at work here as well. My sub enjoys erections (he is a horny little slut). In our earlier days I used to love how perky it was when I would keep him naked and send him scurrying around the house, his penis bouncing around, all eager to please me. Now, I listen to the voice of my inner-sadist a little more. He loves his erections and that makes me want to take them away. Denying him such a simple pleasure mmm… I love it. That metal belt around his waist is truly unnecessary, I just can’t resist keeping him in it, knowing that it takes away something that he enjoys. The longer it stays this way the more I love it.

I still let him inside of me every so often, so it’s not like I do without it completely. I just make sure to wait until my desire to feel him outweighs my darker desires.

END

Fiction: fs01 - Part 75

Author’s Note: I added a section to part 74 about 5 minutes after publishing it. The post had 2 views when I updated it. If you happen to have read it within 5 minutes of it going live, please make sure that Day 23 was in it.

--------------

LXXV

Day 24.

I wake up with my head pounding and my stomach twisting from hunger. Last night’s sleep wasn’t restful. Mistress returns today. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and hang up her robe before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. I return to a plain diet today: a piece of dry toast and a hard-boiled egg. How quickly I shift back to old routines and habits, almost like the past three weeks never happened.

I wash the dishes after eating and move on to the living room. I haven’t practiced Mistress’s song since I left. I pick up the guitar to give it a run-through. The fur on the cuffs of my uniform interfere with my hands and prevent me from being able to play. I’m a bit disappointed at my lack of forethought as I return the guitar to its stand.

The reality of Mistress’s arrival fills me with anticipation. I’m actually nervous. As the time crawls closer I begin to feel ill as negativity crowds out my other thoughts. I’m terrible. I’m unworthy. I’m unforgivable. I’m weak… why am I so weak? Why did I do those things? Did I hurt her?

I know this line of thinking isn’t productive… logic doesn’t save me from it. After a while I hear the sound of tires on the driveway. I hurry my way to the door and kneel before it. The click of her boots on the walkway causes my body to stiffen. I reach out, unlock the door, and open it.

The sunlight frames her in a bright glow. My eyes squint as her silhouetted figure towers before me. She stands with her hands on her hips, the outline of her figure is clearly defined as the long leather coat, trimmed with fur moves as she shifts her feet. I move out of the way as my Mistress enters the door. It’s been so long. My feelings almost jump out of my chest as my heart races at a rapid pace. She stops in her tracks. I bow my head low and kiss her feet, first the right foot, then the left.

She walks past me without speaking and makes her way to the coat closet. I imagine that she is tired. I shut the door behind her and hurry past her, ready to accept her coat. She turns her back to me without a word as I carefully guide it off of her. Her perfume fills my nose and I feel my sex strain against the belt. She tosses her hat at me and begins working on removing her gloves from her hands. The soft leather impacts my chest before falling onto my outstretched arms supporting her coat.

I carry them into the closet, carefully putting them away before returning with her robe, hat, and slippers. We perform our normal ritual. As I work my way around her I steal a glimpse of her face. Mistress is expressionless and this adds to my sense of uneasiness. I kneel and remove her boots, guiding her feet into her slippers. I press my lips firmly and deliver an elongated kiss. My heart sinks as she pulls her foot away.

“Fetch the rest of my bags from the driveway. Meet me in the dungeon when you are done.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I answer in a small voice while keeping my eyes to the ground. As she departs the room I hustle outside and begin the arduous process of carrying in her luggage. Any thoughts that Mistress has a lot of luggage when we are gone for a week is completely overshadowed by the mother-load that sits stacked before me. I move the trunks one by one, first moving each piece into the entryway, getting them out of the cold. It takes me a dozen trips to get them in and another dozen to haul them upstairs and position them to be unpacked. At least when I move them back to storage they will be empty. By the time I finish I am perspiring and out of breath. I must be quite out of shape.

I descend the basement steps slowly. My heart starts to ache as it pounds away inside my chest. The fear builds and I want to run away. I continue on, driven not so much by courage as a sense of responsibility. In the dungeon I kneel in the corner facing the wall and wait for Mistress.

She makes me wait. Time drags on so slowly. My knees ache. Being alone to stew in my thoughts increases the discomfort. I have to believe that Mistress is well aware of this. After what feels like an eternity I hear the click of heels on the basement stairs. My ears perk and my posture instantly corrects itself.

I can smell as she enters the room. She must have taken a bath as the scent of her bath oils flows through the room. I hear the whir of the motor as Mistress prepares the chains. This confirms my initial fears… I doubt this will be a pleasant reunion.

“Come here, slave.”

I respond instantly to her monotone voice. I hop to my feet and approach her slowly, keeping my head down. I present my wrists. She locks the chain ends to the O-rings and pulls it over the hook above my head before getting to work on my ankle chains. I assume without looking that the chain will run through the ring bolted to the floor. She stands before me and I sneak a look at her. The long fur coat hangs open revealing her siren outfit. Knee high leather boots and gloves complete the outfit. She pulls the blindfold over my eyes locking it in place and depriving me of the pleasure of viewing her.

Her footsteps pace away and soon the motor comes to life, stretching my arms above my head. The spikes in my cuffs dig into the skin on my wrists as the hook pulls me until I teeter on the tips of my toes. I let out a small groan.

Her scent draws near to me and soon her hands glide over my body. Her touch on my skin makes me shudder. I feel her tracing over the marks and bruises that remain on my backside from Dominique’s onslaught. I can hear her breathing intensify.

“So tell me about the infractions for which you should be punished, slave.”

My mind races a million miles per hour, overthinking if I should work from intensity, chronologically, in reverse, and so on. Her fingers pinch a bruise and I yelp. I hear the light rattle of chains as the clamp digs into my nipple. She tightens it until I scream before repeating the process. My head grows cloudy with pain as I blurt out an answer.

“I submitted to Miss Dominique, Mistress. Although she released me, she broke me physically and I gave in to save myself.”

Mistress responds with a deep breath that passes both in and out through her nose.

“Disloyalty isn’t very becoming of a slave. What made you do such a thing?”

I cringe as I answer.

“It hurt too much, Mistress She used a whip on me.”

I hear her tongue click against her teeth and imagine a look of disgust.

“You’ve been whipped before, slave. You didn’t break then. Why is that acceptable now?”

I fall silent, unable to justify myself. Shame tints my cheeks a dark shade of red.

“It only seems fair then that your penance should be with a whip then doesn’t it, slave? I will have to cleanse you of this betrayal. I think we’ll start with 200.”

I let out a gasp and whimper. Her fingers caress my jaw and then pinch my face firmly between her index finger and thumb.

“It won’t be 200 at once. To let your suffering end after one day doesn’t do the punishment justice. We’ll do 20 a day for ten days. I assume the slave approves.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“What else?”

“I looked at porn on the internet, Mistress.”

“Porn?” She laughs. “Did you find a way out of your chastity belt?”

“No, Mistress.”

“What would porn do for a chaste slave?”

“My heart was hurting… I wanted to find something that would cause feelings.”

“What kind of feelings?”

“I wanted to feel submission, Mistress.”

I hear her pace around me in a circle. The intensity of her perfume trails around my body as my nipples and wrists ache and my legs and back begin to tire.

“How did my slave get so pathetic? I used to brag about his quality to my friends.”

Her words carve deep into my heart. I agree with them. I release a small sniffle as tears well up in my eyes behind the blindfold.

“Well, a slave is just a pathetic male after all. For this we’ll go 50 with the paddle, five per day for ten days. Next?”

“I found your blog, Mistress.”

With this she stops in her tracks. I feel her grip the chain between the nipple clamps and pull. My brain floods with pain as they stretch farther and dig deeper into my tender flesh. I let out a low squeal as she holds it in place.

“I don’t ever remember giving a slave permission to do that. How much did you read?”

“Two posts, Mistress. One about my uniform and your last post before you left.”

I sigh in relief as she releases the chain.

“The funny thing about trust, slave, is that it is so easily broken but so difficult to earn back.”

I begin to sob. Her disappointment in me is evident.

“I will add 100 with the strap. Ten per day over ten days. What else?”

My tears are flowing freely as I choke on my sobs.

“I wore some of your hats, gloves, and scarves because it was cold, Mistress I went to a bookstore and bought some things… the salesgirl teased me. I went back three more times… I couldn’t stay away. She took my phone and emailed you.”

“So you even tried to submit to a complete stranger?”

I weep and try to continue.

“No Mistress. I wasn’t submitting… I don’t know why I couldn’t stay away.”

“Stop making excuses, slave. You have embarrassed me as you’ve embarrassed yourself. I suppose you just want to leave things as is?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Then you expect me to clean up your mess and compensate her for the troubles you caused?”

I’m so ashamed that I can’t speak.

“This will be 100 with the cane. Is there anything else?”

“I let some food spoil, Mistress. It went bad before I could eat it.”

“That was irresponsible of you, slave. Serves me right for expecting a slave to be able to manage his own food. Add 50 with the paddle. Is there anything else?”

I shake my head and bawl.

“I’m so sorry, Mistress.”

“Do you think sorry is enough, slave?”

I shake my head.

“Apologies are only meaningful when the feelings matter of the person making them. Does a slave’s feelings matter?”

I shake my head.

“I’m a bit furious with you, slave. I’m going to add 100 with the flogger as well. That brings us to 20 with the whip, ten with the paddle, ten with the cane, ten with the strap, and ten with the flogger each day for the next ten days. During this time you will be on high protocol. You will be gagged and you will not speak at all for its duration. You will not look at me. If you make eye contact with me or any of my guests we will add a day. Your chastity tube will be switched to a spiked version and you will be plugged each day. You will not sleep in my room. Any new punishments will be tripled.”

I hear her boots click away across the floor. I hear her take an object off the wall. She swings it and I hear it swish through the air.

“Your beating regimen will begin tomorrow.”

I feel her hook the back of my dress to the belt, leaving my bare ass exposed. I continue to cry as I swallow and attempt to prepare myself for what is coming next.

Whir, crack. The whip bites into my flesh. I let out a howl as my body writhes against my bonds. Whir, crack. I scream and flail as the leather leaves a searing burn across my tender flesh. Mistress isn’t holding back.

Whir crack. I shriek. The pain reverberates through my body, finally throbbing in my wrists where the spikes dig deeply into my skin. Whir, crack. I feel the hot trickle of blood as my legs quiver, barely able to support my body. Whir, crack. I scream and shake with pain as I feel the light flow of more blood on my skin. Today feels different. I don’t hope for her to stop. I know I deserve this.

Eventually the whip comes to a rest. I slump against the chains, exhausted. My legs have no strength left in them as I hang from the hook above. The motor whirs, lowering me a few inches… just enough for me to put the front halves of my feet flat on the floor. I continue sobbing… it occupies what is left of my energy.

I feel the fur of her coat brush up against the skin on my thigh. She leans in and places her lips over mine, plunging her tongue deep within my mouth. My nose is filled with the scent of her perfume and her sex. She withdraws and drives the gag firmly into my mouth. I hear it lock into place. Her steps click away and she leaves me alone to stew. My body throbs. My heart hurts. I’m sorry, Mistress. I love you.

END ACT

Fiction: fs01 - Part 74

Author’s Note:  I added Day 23 about 5 minutes after originally posting this.

--------

LXXIV

Day 15.

Today I find myself able to move a bit more. My feet still throb badly with any pressure but the pain of my rear is down quite a bit. Well, it only hurts a lot to try to sit rather than being unbearable. Today Sammy and Gordon show up with a wheel chair with several cushions stacked up on the seat. I sit gingerly but this should give my feet more time to heal without making things worse. Based upon its markings I believe this is the same wheel chair I used after my first visit with Dominique.

I eat breakfast with the crew. I find it easier to speak casually. Things feel different with friends. It feels different to feel like I have friends. I don’t know exactly what I feel… I just know it isn’t bad.

After breakfast we check out the music room. As the lights go on my jaw drops. It feels almost like a small club venue… and recording studio… and collection room. There are full amp setups, a drum set, a PA, and hundreds of guitars hanging on the wall and littered around the room.

Dominique places her hand on my chin and closes my mouth for me.

“One day I decided I wanted to learn how to play so I went and bought a guitar and started on lessons. After a while someone mentioned that collecting rare guitars would be a good investment.”

She starts pointing out some instruments mounted in glass cases on the wall.

“That Telecaster over there I paid $5,200 for. Now it’s worth about $35,000. That Les Paul ran me $12,500. Now it’s going for… Sammy, what’s that one going for now?”

“About $160k.”

“Ah. I make a point to buy up the standard fare each year as well as a few custom shop models. You never know what is going to get hot, although I don’t really intend to sell any unless I have to. Do you see anything you’d like to try?”

I look up at her with surprise.

“Umm… probably about half the room. Is that a ‘61 Reissue SG?”

“Yes. I believe it’s a ‘98 or so. Would you like to play it?”

I nod.

“I used to have an SG Special. It played okay but I had to...”

“Replace the bridge pickup?” She laughs a little.

“Yeah.”

Sammy fetches the guitar and brings it to me. It’s in pristine condition, the wood grains beautifully show through the cherry finish. Gordon starts pushing my wheelchair.

“Which amp, man?”

“The Marshall if that’s okay.”

He powers up the amp and hands me a cable and a pick. Dominique heads over to the drum kit. Sammy picks up a bass. Gordon grabs a Les Paul and plugs in to another amp across the room. He lets an E ring out while the rest of us tune to match him. I hear Dominique’s coming through the PA.

“What do you want to play, little one?”

“Do you know any Goddess’ Nectar?”

“I’m familiar with the first album.”

I hear her speak faintly into her phone. The blip of the bluetooth pairing comes through the speakers. Within moments the album’s first track plays over the speakers and we jam along. I’m rusty and it shows. I don’t care though, this is fun. We badly play through the first half of the album or so before stopping. Gordon walks over and helps put away the guitar.

“Dude, fs, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that. Usually you look like someone just kicked you in the gut.”

I can’t help but smile.

Next up is some Zbox. I don’t partake again today. I’m content simply to watch. I lose myself in my thoughts, trying to figure out the great difference between now and last week. While I’m still sore and feeling a little helpless, there’s no D/s to speak of. I don’t know these people all that well but I feel a connection right now that goes beyond that of just casual acquaintances. It makes me wonder.

Dominique has Chinese food delivered for dinner. She orders way too much food but all of it tastes so good. We chat around the dinner table. I’m feeling more comfortable hopping into the conversations now. Time really flies.

Tonight I’m given an actual room to sleep in. It’s large, but then again, all of the rooms in her house are large. The bed feels nice as I sprawl in any direction I please. It’s surprising how tired your back gets being trapped in a chair all day.

I type an email to Mistress before I sleep.

“Mistress,

I had fun today. I hope you are having fun, too.

Love, pet.”

Day 22.

I wake up in the large bed and stretch. The bruising has faded quite a bit but it can still hurt if it receives pressure in just the right way. The last few days were a blur. Once I was okay to walk Sammy showed up with a pair of super spongy soled running shoes in my size. Apparently Dominique sent him to get them. Each day it has been something new. One day we went to the zoo because she wanted to see monkeys. Another day to the movie theater to watch a movie that Sammy had been looking forward to. It was some action schlock but I didn’t complain. It was fun to make fun of it with the others after it was over.

The next day was an all you can eat buffet. It was amusing watching the three of them try to outdo one another only to feel ill in the end. I’m honestly surprised at Dominique’s poor eating habits. She must be blessed with good genes to pack it in like that and stay thin. Nothing is ever planned… it’s all just an impulse. “Hey, let’s do _____.” It is hectic but I can’t say it isn’t fun.

Yesterday the UPS man arrived with a delivery. Gordon ordered the new Final Fantasy game for Zbox and tried to convince me to play. I was content to watch, smiling while they shouted at the characters.

Today at breakfast Sammy is hobbling a bit and sinks slowly into his chair.

“Are you okay?” Gordon answers.

“He’ll be fine, it was his turn.”

Dominique blows a kiss at Sammy. He shakes his head and looks at his food. I feel like I’m starting to understand the dynamic around here a little bit better. I also understand the source of proficiency for Sammy and Gordon when it comes to nursing wounds and patching things back together. A grin forms across my face.

“Jealous, little one? I could have always taken a second go at you if you would have preferred. We can do it later if you wish.”

I choke on my food for a second.

“No thank you, Mistress.”

I have to wonder what is in store for today.

We spend the day shopping. A dozen stops or so. A book for Gordon. Headphones for Sammy. A handful of specialty shops where Dominique buys God knows what. The last stop is at World of Guitars. Sammy and Gordon immediately flock their way in and find instruments and start jamming. I actually look around the store today. Last time I was there on a specific hunt. Here I just take in the views and the sounds.

My eyes make their way upwards and I twist my neck. This strangely angled overhang makes viewing the instruments hanging a bit awkward and it gets worse the farther up you go. Up in the corner I spot a vision of my past. My dream guitar. The one I drooled over in my youth but could never afford. Its flamed top and dark blue burst finish mesmerizes me. Dominique’s voice startles me.

“Good eye, little one. I don’t think that finish has been available in at least ten years. I had the Lava Burst version but traded it in. SG’s just don’t value up in the same way that Les Pauls do.”

She quickly flags down a salesman. It’s the same man that sold me my starter pack a couple of weeks ago.

“Is that one new old stock?”

“Yeah. Apparently it got stashed in its case in our storage and we dug it up a couple of months ago. It’s probably around an‘04 or so.”

“$3250 is a little bit steep on that, don’t you think? I’ll give you $2600 for it. That’s $100 more than when they were new.”

“Let me ask my manager.”

He disappears into the back.

“I thought you said they don’t value up?”

“They don’t. This one is meant to be played.”

He returns a moment later.

“He said we could do $2750 and will throw in a setup with that.”

“Done. What gauge strings do you use, little one?”

“Umm, 10’s, Miss Dominique.”

“Set it up with 10’s. I’ll take a set of strap locks with it as well. Can you toss them on during the setup?”

“Sure.”

“Save the original buttons as well.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The salesman’s eyes light up. He must work on commission. He tells us it will be about a half an hour before it’s ready. We head to the colonel for lunch as it’s just a short drive down the road. I specifically avoid looking over at the bookstore but part of my heart twitches as we arrive and when we leave. On the drive back to the store I fidget a bit as I ask her a question.

“Miss Dominique, why did you buy that guitar?”

“Don’t be dense, little one. I bought it for you.”

My surprise is immediately countered by a sick feeling in my gut.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why did you buy it for me?”

“White guilt.” She laughs loudly.

“What?”

“You’ll understand when your Mistress returns.”

I merely nod. Conflicting emotions swell over me.

“Miss Dominique.”

“Yes, little one?”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to have things of my own.”

“Well then we’ll keep it at my place. You can play it whenever you come over on one condition.”

“Yes?”

“Call me Mistress when Cassandra isn’t around. I know that I released you, but I liked hearing you say it.”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you.”

Back at Dominique’s home we play more music and I get to jam on the new guitar. I love it but her words haunt me.

That night I email Mistress before bed.

“Dear Mistress,

I can’t wait to see you soon. I love you.

-pet”

Day 23.

I wake up this morning feeling a little bit out of sorts. After breakfast I will be returning home. Mistress returns tomorrow and I suppose this is meant to make sure that the house is in order. I cleaned thoroughly before calling Dominique so it should be a relaxing day.

Breakfast is lively as usual. I feel a bit sad that I will be leaving this behind. After breakfast I take a shower, tidy up the room, and get ready to leave. My brain swirls around in a confusing way. The events of the past three weeks have taken me up and down in ways I couldn’t have imagined.

Before we leave the front door I bow my head and thank everyone for taking care of me. Sammy gives me a handshake and a bro hug. Gordon uses a fist bump. Dominique stands with her arms crossed and a smile on her face. I kneel and kiss her boots. First the right foot then the left. As I look up she puts her gloved hand on my cheek and starts with a caress before digging in the talon she wears on her finger and cackling.

They drop me off near the front door and with a wave, they are gone. I unlock the front door and walk in. Immediately a tear forms in my eye. I’m not sure why, I’m sure it won’t be the last time I see them. I put away my clothes and get to work dusting, vacuuming, and hunting for any other spots that might be deemed as untidy. I clean out the fridge a bit. I had forgotten how many perishable items Mistress had left for me. Many of them have gone bad. I feel guilty for letting this happen. I ate out too much.

When everything is satisfactory I look at the clock. It’s early afternoon. I take a seat on the sofa when the real guilt hits me. I burst into tears and cry until I can’t.

I stand up in a daze, not truly feeling alive anymore. I strip naked and pack up all of my man clothes into the box that Mistress presented them to me in. I find my uniform, holding it in my hands in front of me I scan it over. This is the real me. I carefully dress myself from head to toe, adjusting and locking things in place as I go. I don’t know where the keys are and I don’t care.

I curl up on the rug on the floor and hug Mistress’s robe tight, inhaling the scent of her perfume I feel everything else fade away and I return to myself. I let out a small sigh and a sniffle follows. I have betrayed Mistress. I doze off.

END ACT