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A GOOD SLAVE
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A GOOD SLAVE Kneel!" I yell at you as you enter the hotel room and fail get immediately on your knees in front of Me. You fall your knees and instinctively lower your lips My boot, showering it with kisses. "That's much better," I purr. Unsure what do next, and not getting any direction from , you continue kiss my boots, lick them, suck on the little zipper pull. You are startled when I raise my right foot and you over onto your bac You try scramble onto your feet again but I immediately place my foot on your chest, holding you down. The heel is uncomfortable in your ribs, but you are too frightened to say anything. "What do you think you're doing?" I as "Do you think you deserve be allowed stand at the same level as your Mistress? ANSWER ME!" "No, Mistress! I am an unworthy little and I live only serve You!" you stammer. Tears well up in your eyes as you close them. "No no My pet, you will keep your eyes open. You can't escape your punishment that easily. Besides, why would you want close your eyes? Then you can't see your beautiful Mistress in all Her glory!" I dig my heel into your ribs a bit more painfully and you whimper like a little hurt puppy. "On your hands and knees, slut, we have things to do." You scurry to your hands and knees and take up position at My feet. I hand you a large black collar and you immediately fasten it around your nec I then attach the matching leash and lead you around the hotel room a few times. I quicken the pace and you find it difficult keep up. The carpet is hurting your knees but you don't dare protest. I position you in the middle of the room and drop the leash. I walk around you a few times, inspecting My new posession, and the anticipation of the unknown is beginning drive you mad. "Your ass is far too boring. There are no pretty colors or designs on it to please . What do you think I should do about that puppy?" I wait for you speak, but you hesitate. I bend over slightly and reach between your legs, where I find that you are still soft and unready. I yank down hard on your shaft, causing you cry out in pain. "I SAID, what do you think I should do about that puppy?" "Mistress!" you stammer, "I think you should spank my horribly boring ass until it is full of colors and designs that please You!" "Yes puppy, I think that is a splendid idea," I assure you, as I contemplate which implement use carry out this tas "Crawl over there and fetch that paddle!" You crawl where I am pointing, only discover a table laden with different devices. You search through the pile of goodies trying find the paddle, but your attention is captured by the black rubber flogger, the handcuffs, the buttplugs, the strap-ons...you are inspecting a pair of metal nipple clamps when you feel the sharp heel of my boot enter your ass with frightening speed. "I told you to fetch Me the paddle, not paw through the rest of My toys! Who taught you to be so insolent? Now hand Me the paddle and crawl up on that coffee table over there." You move with as much speed as you can muster and do as I ordered. The coffee table is very hard and doesn't feel at all comfortable against your tender knees, but you know it is My wish and will please Me. You flinch as you feel something touching your head, only to realize it's Me putting a blindfold on you. Now the panic and fear really starts to rise up, as you have no idea where I am or what I will do next. At least if we were somewhere else, maybe you could hear the clicking of My heels to give you a clue of where I might be, but with the carpet, the silence is maddening. "Open!" I say and you assume I mean your mouth, which you open immediately. You feel a large rubber ball being inserted into your mouth, then fastened by a band around your head. "I don't want to hear your little sissy whimpers while I creat art on your ass," I whisper into your ear. I then back up to look at you perched on the table like a slave on an auction bloc "No no, this won't do at all. You're still soft puppy...does that mean you don't find Me attractive? I should hate think that you aren't supremely attracted your Mistress!" I reach between your legs with the handle of the paddle and touch the tip of your sex. It responds immediately and begins to grow hard. Every stroke of the handle creates more length, more width, more redness. When I am satisfied that you are sufficiently saluting My supreme beauty, I flip the paddle around in my hand and haul it back far behind My head... WHACK! The sound of the paddle hitting your tender flesh is absolute music to My ears. The unexpected blow nearly knocks you off balance as you try to cry out against the gag, but you recover quickly. I proceed to administer several hard blows with the paddle, reddening your ass quite nicely. In fact, the welts that are beggining to form are quite lovely. I stop paddling and trace the welts with My fingernails. You moan against the gag as you experience the mixture of pain and pleasure. I stop touching you. I can see you tense up in anticipation of the next blow that doesn't come. I smile to Myself. I go over to the table and grab the rubber flogger. I run the soft rubber between my fingers and wonder what kind of designs this will add to your welts. You are still tense and waiting for a blow when I come back to your side. I lean in close and whisper into your ear. "How does your ass feel puppy? Is it hot? Can you feel the welts? They're quite pretty actually. Some are light red, some are dark red, some are purple. I would say your ass is definitely not boring anymore." I can see you relax as you think I have made your ass satisfactory. SWISH goes the rubber flogger as it flies through the air and makes contact with several of your beautiful welts. You manage to cry out loudly against the ball gag. Several cries later, I am finally finished with your ass. Well, with coloring it anyway. "Ok puppy, no more spanking...for now," I purr at you. "You've done very well My pet. I loved the way your ass wiggled against the paddle." You sigh with relief against the gag, knowing that you have pleased your Mistress. A tear makes its way down your cheek as you await the instruction to get down from the table. "Puppy, you need to spread your legs a bit more," I coo into your ear. You visibly tense up again, not expecting that command. You spread your legs as far as possible on the thin coffee table. I notice that you are still quite hard, in spite of all the pain you have just received. I make another trip to the table and grab My favorite strap-on. It has a jelly-like blue cock attached to it, not quite as big as the other strap-on, but just as filling. I slip it on and step up behind you. You feel something wet and slimy dribbling from above and making its way down your ass crac Oh no, you think, that's lube! Mistress is going violate ! Your fears are realized when you feel sliding the cock into your ass, slowly at first, then with more gusto. When it's in as far as it will go, I begin to pump it faster and harder. You're not sure what to think about this, as it partly hurts and partly feels heavenly! It hits your prostate and you can imagine this is what it feels like for a woman to have her G Spot rubbed. You begin to thoroughly enjoy yourself when it abruptly ends and the paddle finds its mark on your right ass cheek, right on the most painful of welts. You brace for another but it doesn't come. You are heartsick that the pleasure of Me fucking you has ended. "Oh, poor puppy, were you enjoying yourself?" I tease. You only manage a whimper in response. "Don't worry puppy. You've pleased Me enough today to earn a treat," I whisper into your ear. I then remove the blindfold and ball gag. You instinctively kiss my hand as I'm doing so. "Now puppy, look over there, in that corner by the bed," I order, and I follow your gaze as you look where I'm pointing. For the first time, you notice another puppy, bound and gagged and cowering in the corner. He is facing the wall and hasn't been able to see any of what has been going on. His ass is in the air and is probably more red than yours. "Go on puppy, crawl over to him and kneel up behind him." You get down from the table and onto your hands and knees. You stretch your legs out a bit behind you, as they're quite stiff from the long ordeal on the hard surface of the table. You slowly crawl to the slave in the corner and do as instructed. You don't know what your Mistress will have you do, so you just anxiously await Her command. "Now puppy, I'm going to give you one choice. This is the ONLY choice you will be given today, so be thankful that I'm in a generous mood. You may choose between fucking that puppy in the ass or having him suck your coc You see, he was a VERY bad puppy and has earned My displeasure. Had you been a bad puppy, your fate would have been his. Now, what is your choice?" You bow your head as you answer, "Mistress, I've never been with a man before, I'm not sure what do. Which would you prefer Mistress?" "Ah, poor puppy, so scared...well since you can't make up your mind, and this puppy is literally in the doghouse, I believe I will enjoy seeing him suck you. He doesn't particularly enjoy doing that so it will be a fitting punishment for him. Stupid dog, turn around!" I yell at the bad little puppy in the corner. Immediately he scurries around face you. "Up on your knees you little slut!" He rushes his knees, his arms still bound behind him. "Now, redeem yourself in My eyes. Pleasure this good doggie who did NOT earn a week of whoring himself anyone I see fit!" I screech at him. Immediately, and with obvious skill, the bad little puppy begins<b> service </font></b>your cock with his mouth. Your head tilts back and your lips part as you are lost in the ecstasy of what is being done you. It doesn't take long before you release your stream into the throat of the slave in front of you. You slump forward as I pat you on the head. "Good doggie," I coo. "Good, doggie."....Mistress Monica One could make this comparison between a car and any woman, and God knows that has been done many times before, but I don't think it is appropriate. For one thing, women of any kind are not actually objects. No one should "own" them, unless they want to be. The "woman as a car" makes more sense with a certain type of woman (or man); the type that is happiest when pleasing their... driver... The sort that finds great satisfaction in the attention of, and being of great value to, another. I'm not making a value judgment about other types of people. There is room for everyone and viva la difference. But a good slave... ahh.... A good slave is like a fine car: Sometimes you just want to drive it, maybe to release tension after a long day, or maybe just for the pure joy of driving. You're proud of your car, you enjoy it, you picked the one you did for its looks and the way it handled. When you take it out, you aren't gentle with it... you drive it as hard as you can. You burn some rubber off the tires and you rev the engine so it gets really nice and hot under the hood. You don't worry if it's going to get a little dirty or wet; you know it will clean up well later. The car is there for you to use. This is the purpose of a car, what the car was made for, and the car knows it. On the other hand, you do NOT push your baby further than it can handle. You don't want to wreck it or end up stranded without a ride, right? And you may not be thinking about how your ride feels or whether or not the drive is as good for it as it is for you while you scream around the corners, but you do take care of her needs. If she is running low on gas, you take the time to stop and fill up. And you want to know when she needs that. It wouldn't be good if the gas gauge stuck and failed to let you know it was running empty. You need for your car to let you know when something is going wrong. You keep an eye on the gauges and you trust that the gauges are providing an accurate indication of how things are working. You might just have one red "check engine" light or an entire series of dials and gauges that tell you every detail of internal operation. But you also listen; is there a groan that doesn't sound right? is the clutch slippery? Are the gears meshing right? And when you get home, you don't just park it out in the sun and leave it. You wash it off, wipe it lovingly down, check for scratches or dents and keep it in a nice safe, clean garage. In life, guys can't always go out and buy a (insert whatever the current hottest production model is now) and, in fact, there is no shame in driving an older model, led sled with big rounded fenders and a huge trunk. In fact, most of those guys who can buy the latest, hottest, sleek little models don't really get a warm reception at the local club. They tend not to know much about how to drive or what their ride is really all about. I'm happy for them, and the better a car you can find, well... more power to you. But that doesn't make you a real owner. It's the guys who really know what is under the hood who I respect. The ones who can take a car, tear into it and fix any problem, add any feature, really build a great machine from whatever they have. Sometimes, regular guys will end up with a hot ride that some rich jerk trashed and threw away. Then they lovingly and with great respect, tear it down and rebuild it into a magnificent performance machine. And they treasure it as no one else possibly could. Like I said, there is no shame in driving an old Nova or Bel Air or even a Desoto or a Model T. But the other guys will see how much work you have put into her. How well you know her. How much you love her. How well you drive that ride on the local strip. What you can make her do. If all you can pick up is an old beater, so be it. But anyone can get out the buffing pad and the wax and make that paint glow. Get out the wallet, save your pennies and spring for some upgrades, put some new teeth in the old girl. Send her out to the paint booth for a new coat. I know it can't be, but I swear cars respond to that sort of thing... you can rub the road tar off their hubs and sidewalls and the engine will rev a little quicker. And when a guy really does everything that can be done for his ride, it always makes him proud out in public. Which brings me to another point: You don't touch the paint job on another guys ride unless you are invited. And no one better mess with yours. That is YOUR ride. You own it in every sense of the word. Pay attention here girls; we all love it when other guys admire our baby. We want that car to turn heads and move so it gets a whistle and applause. We love to drive around town with the top down so we can watch the other guys drool. We might even take her out and race it in public instead of alone on those dark country back roads. Sometimes, if we really trust another driver, and we are having problems with something, we will loan the car to them to see if they can work in out the kinks. And, for some, there is nothing better than having a good buddy over to help with a major tune up. But we are doing all that because we love our car so much it hurts. We want the best for that little beauty. It reflects upon us and we will do anything we can to get our ride a little hotter. But never forget: It's still OUR car. We know that, we aren't trying to loose it. And nothing is worse than having your car stolen. Well, except maybe doing something stupid and blowing it up yourself. Ahhh.. no, even that isn't the worst. The worst is letting it set. Always assuming it will be there when you need it. Maybe driving it once in a while but just letting it rot in between. Covering it with a frumpy old blanket and piling crap on it in the dusty corner of the garage until you can't even get in there and drive it any more. Sure, a lot of other shit keeps you busy, takes up your time; so many of us seem to be in the business of making go karts these days... Putting all your time into something else. I know I've made that mistake. You get to where you can't remember why the hell you bought it. You see other guys with those hot assed rides and you start thinking about selling the old carcass and buying something new. But like I said before: It isn't the age, size, make, model or disuse that makes the difference. It's how much blood, sweat and tears you put into that... lady. Have you noticed that the wannabes with the project cars that never get done, just go from one project car to another? And believe me, it can be too late. Cars rust. They freeze up and no amount of lubricant will get them running again. Don't wait. Find the time and energy... Now... Invest it in your lady, and she will become one kick ass ride. Mistress Monica |
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