PART IV

“You are excused,” she said after moment.

“Yes Ma’am,” he answered placing the hairbrush on the small end table next to his Mistress.

He had gotten so lost in his task of brushing her hair that perhaps he and not been attentive enough to her needs he thought.  He stepped in front of her bowed his courtly bow once again.  At her nod he rose, turned and started for his room.   Mentally he was preparing to walk across the bathroom tiles as quietly as he possibly could in size 11 D stiletto heels, when his Mistress’ voiced stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Why are your shoulders slumped boy?

“I’m sorry Mistress, I will endeavor to straighten them,” he said throwing his shoulders back.

“I didn’t ask you to stand up straight.  I asked you why?”

“I don’t know Mistress, I didn’t realize they were.”

“You were expecting more this evening?  Now you think you are being sent off to bed with no supper, so to speak?  Isn’t that why your shoulders slump?”

“Perhaps Ma’am.”  Patrick said.   Knowing full well that was exactly what he was thinking.   He hated it when she read his mind.  Well at least the times when he was thinking negative thoughts.

“Come here boy.”  She said in a low and commanding voice barely above a whisper. 

His Mistress could generate more ominous fear in her low even tones than that of any of the video or online Mistresses with their shooting and their degradation.  His Mistress didn’t need to call him a worthless worm to make him feel like one.  She had only to point out his more than obvious flaws.  And of course she had called it right this time too.  He was pouting that she was sending him off to bed and now to make it worse he had been caught.  He turned back to her.  Her eyes were fixed upon him.  She took in every inch of his six foot one frame currently standing about six foot six in his spiked platformed heels.   His cock was not hard and the disapproving stare she was giving him at the moment did not instill lust.  He was now standing about three feet directly in front of her.

“Take off those ridiculous shoes.” She said almost in an annoyed tone.

Patrick did as he was told.  He squatted, as he did he felt the rush of cool air against his sphincter as his hips open with his new posture.  He loosened the buckles on each shoe and removed them one by one.  When he stood again his height was that of a mere man and not some Amazon drag warrior. 

“Now the stocking and garter belt too.” She said in a chiding tone.

With his head bowed in shame, for he was sure he was about to be dismissed, he unfastened each of the two hooks on his right leg.   Then he rolled the stocking down to his ankle.  He performed the same procedure on the left leg.  Once both stockings had been rolled down he slipped each of his feet out in turn.  He then proceeded to wiggle out of the black lace belt.  There was suddenly the nipping sting where the belt’s elastic band had bitten into his flesh.  As he stood once again with his arms to his sides and his head bowed he was just Patrick.  Only the tell-tale red mark of the garter belt encircling his waist bore the proof of the feminizaton he had endured. 

With his head bowed he was unable to see the gleam in his Mistress’ eyes.  She thought him the most beautiful man on the face of the earth.  It was when he was naked standing before her in the pose of a servant ready to do her bidding that her appetite for him sexual grew insatiable.  She thought it funny that a man, when wanting to show-off his sexual prowess always wanted his cocks to be in its inflated state.  But at least with this man it wasn’t the case.  He had an amazing cock whether it was soft of hard.   And either soft or hard she simply found him beautiful.  Yes beautiful, not handsome, not stylish, not a pretty boy or a rugged hunk, simply beautiful.   In her mind it was the only word that could be used to describe him.

“Now come here and bend over my knee.” She said in a voice gruffer than she had intented.

In the two strides it took Patrick to reach his Mistress his flaccid cock had gone almost rigid. 

“Your best friend betrays your thoughts, boy.” She said with a rye smirk .

“You are my best friend Mistress, and if my cock, not my friend, offends you in any way it is your right as my Mistress and best friend to cut it off.”  Patrick said with as much sincere conviction as he could muster.

He was long and sleek but dropping to his knees first then lifting himself over her legs he seated his ever-hardening cock as best he could into the gap between her legs.  The silky smoothness of her robe combined with her warm body sent torrents of desire coursing through him.  With the floor being his only vantage point he again missed the lustful glint of appreciation in his Mistress’ eyes.  Bowed up in the air his firm muscular butt was the focus of her delight.  First she placed both hands on him.  Her left hand was on his back just above the tailbone and right hand was on his left thigh, the one closest to her.  His back was smooth, tanned and defined.  His thighs weres lightly dusted with course fine reddish blond hair.  The course hair ran part way up each hip where it faded away in to a gentle smoothness.  Each perfectly round mound sported a large dimple on its side and both orbs glowed as bright as a sunny day after a new fallen snow.  It was a nice contrast against the tan golden brown skin on the rest of his body.  But it was not by any accident that he looked that way.  It was by her design.  He tanned just for her and wore the same pair of briefs each time so the lines would be defined.  She had told him months ago that he would become her little cotton tail and now glistening back at her was a command obeyed.  She smiled with satisfaction.

She ran her left hand past the tailbone up onto the stark white hips.  She marveled at their firmness.  She continue on down to the upper thigh so her fingers could feel the textures change from smooth to rough.   She could feel his cock pounding its lustful yearning for pleasure against her.  Her left hand roved up and down his body.  She closed her eyes so as to deprive one sense in order to enhance the others.  The touch and smell of his body deepened her desire for him.  She could feel the dampness created by her body readying her for carnal pleasures. Like a cat, Patrick had almost begun to purr at her sweet caresses.   He had closed his eyes too and at her soothing touch his thoughts had wondered, conjuring up a vision of he and his Mistress naked wrapped in each others arms making love on a warm far away beach.  The sand clung to the sweat on there…..

His eyes sprang open as the pain seared through him.   The hairbrush that he laid at his Mistress’ side had just connected with his ass.   He tried desperately to hold still as again and again the hard wooden handle slapped against him.  He tried to dig is fingers and toes into the carpet but they kept slipping loose.  He flailed despite his best efforts.  The pain kept coming but he was determined to take it with out putting his hand up to blunt the blows.  Through the pain he realized that her left hand had moved around his body and was pumping his cock.   Through the pain he also realized the he was rock hard and was close to ejaculating.   As if sensing his thoughts she suddenly stopped.  He heard the brush hit the floor as she flung it down.  His cock had been abandoned and both hand were now back on his burning butt.  He shivered as he felt her cool breath blowing on the now raising welts.   The force of the cool breeze was directed in such a fashion as to be agonizingly erotic.  Then the breath was gone and her lips met his flesh kissing each stinging mark.  After long sensual minutes her soft tongue replaced the kisses and she began to eagerly lick his wounds as if in an animalistic healing ritual.  Ever so often her tongue would flick to the space between his muscular mounds.  But just a teasing flick that's all.  Then it stopped. She sat back in the chair. 

“Stand up!” She commanded.

Patrick did as he was told.  His cock stood fully erect and looking down at his Mistress’ lap he could see the dark sticky liquidity stains of pre-cum on her silky robe.  His nose caught the faint musky tang of pre-cum, sweat, and if he was mistaken the aroused juices of his Mistress.

“I’m sorry Mistress. I didn’t mean to…”

She cut him off with a wave. 

“Now go prepare yourself.  I have found that I have need of you after all.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said brighter than he should have just after taking a sever spanking with a hairbrush.

He turned and picked up his shoes, stockings and garter belt. And started for his room.

“You can put them back on if you’d like,” She said to his retreating back.

He never turned but perked up his pace.

“Yes! Ma’am!”  He said pointing the words and sounding as excited as young boy who has just gotten a new bicycle for Christmas

PART III-B

The moment Patrick’s heels clicked on to the tile floor of the bath he slowed his gate.  He didn’t want his Mistress to interpret his haste as him being overly excited, which he was.  She never opened her eyes as he laid the riding crop on the edge of the tub.  He then knelt down and dipped the sponge into the warm sudsy water.   He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.  He wanted to touch her but not in away that suggest what was really on his mind.  He could feel the cold porcelain chilling the sensitive head of his throbbing cock as it pushed against the side of the bathtub.

“Pull it together, Patty old boy”, he thought to himself.

He submerged the sponge into the steaming water and squeezed it tightly opening his eyes.  As he looked down at his Mistress he saw the two huge breasts with their massive dark areola surrounding her thimble size nipples.  His eyes took in the enormous orbs as they appeared as twin islands floating in a sea of white bubbly foam.   He felt the sponge touch her belly and he pressed it against her.  Massaging her in small swirling circles.  She moved sensually at his touch.  He worked his way upward until his hand free and the one baring the sponge were caressing her beast.  She heaved in delight but still didn’t open her eyes.  He wanted so badly to place his hot warm mouth on her rigid nipples.

Instead he whispered, “Mistress if you will lift up I will wash you back.”

Without a word she rolled over in the tub, still without ever opening her eyes.   He sponged her back in broad strokes, first her shoulder, then the middle of her back and finally her hips.  Without thinking he abandoned the sponge and began light caressing the full round mounds.  He loved her shape.  He was grateful any time he could touch her and especially touch her in places like this.  She cooed lightly at the caresses.  Both hands were in play now, one hand stroking the small of her back and the other moving ever deeper into area between her firm full round butt.  Her soft coos turned to light moans and suddenly she turned over once again.  He started to pull his hands away but her hands grabbed his and thrust one between her legs while pulling the other to her breast.  Without a thought he lowered his mouth to her nipple.  He surrounded it softly with his moist hot lips.

His mouth had hardly engulfed the dark rigid flesh before he felt the hard slap of the riding crop across his back.  He sprang from his knees to his feet.

“Mistress?” he said questionably.

“You were not given  permission to touch me in a sexual manner.” 

“But Mistress, You placed my hand on your beautiful breast and down in your fiery pit.   I thought…”

“Since when is it your job to think?”  She quipped.

“Mistress, I’m so sorry.  I would have never taken forward advances if I hadn’t thought you wanted me too.” 

He knew it was the wrong thing to say no sooner than it had left his lips.  He had used the word “thought” when she had just him it wasn’t his job to think.  The riding crop came up so quickly he never saw it coming.  He double over in pain as the charged contact of the crop and his testicles seared through him.  While he was trying to catch his breath the second blow came even harder than the first and then the third.  Patrick was on the floor with his hands still to his side.  He knew better than to cover himself.  This might hurt but if he ever tried to stop her when she was angry he wasn’t quite sure what she would do.

As if nothing was out of the ordinary she stepped out of the tub and stood dripping on the floor.   He knew she was standing there waiting to be dried and lotioned.   In his mind he compartmentalized his pain and drew himself first to his knees and then to a standing position.   The expression oh her face was more of boredom than anything else.  He took one of the large soft towels from the rack and began to pat her dry.  He went first light over her shoulders, then down her back and hips.  This time he did not pause for fear of having the crop being inflicted on his nuts once again.  She spread her legs and he dried each of them patting his way up her front.  He wanted to look at her wonderful shave kitten.  He wanted to caress it, kiss it and make love to her there but he knew better.  His cock was growing hard again as he dried her belly.  His eyes locked onto her breast.   They were so big in everyway.  He wanted to make love to this woman but she wasn’t just any women and he wasn’t just any man.   He pushed down his urges and as his submissive nature kicked back in, not having her on his terms and knowing that everything he was to have or be was under her control drove him to sexual heights and desires he couldn’t explain.   

After he’d finished drying her, he lotioned her entire body.  He was under control now.  She was his Goddess and he knew she would have him, just not when or how.  He held the thin shear robe as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.  She once again returned to the frilly ruffled chair and seated herself like a queen upon a throne.  Quickly Patrick stepped behind her. 

“Stop!” she ordered in a low soft voice.  “Come back here.”

Patrick did as he was told.  She took him by the hand and pulled him in front of her and turned him around so his back was facing her.  Patrick did not dare look back.  He squared his shoulder to best show off his v-shape.  On the college rowing team he had grown up in competitive rowing like his father before him.  Both men shared the same body type.  Both were around six feet one or so.  Their bodies were tight muscular frames. Their arm had lean corded muscles twining into their back creating very defined lats before winding their way ever downward into a rock hard gluteusmaximus with streaming cords of muscles that ran down their thighs and calves all the way to their feet.  She loved the site of the boy.  She loved looking as his back, ass and legs and when you add to that the black laced garter belt, the fishnet hoses and the spike heels-you had Rocky Horror Picture Show.  She smiled.  He was really way to handsome to be made to wear such a ridiculous get up but he had mention the first time they had ever spoke.  How humiliating he found it being feminized with hose, garter belts and spike heels.  He made a point to tell her several times.   All she could think of was the Shakespeare  line from Romeo and Juliet. 

“Me thinks he doth protest to much.”

So she dressed him like he fantasized being dressed.  She could see past the garb.  He was hers so it didn’t matter.  She kept him there standing in front of her for at least a full five minutes.   He had begun to squirm before she told him to finish with her hair.  Instantly he was behind her and the clips were gone.  He ran his finger through her hair fluffing it out.  Then he brushed it until it shined with reflected light.

Part III-A

Once his mother was well out of site Patrick gave is Mistress his best courtly bow.  With one leg turned outward and the other slightly behind he opened his arms out and extend both palms up as he bowed deeply.

“After you M’Lady,” he said with his body bowed and his head bent.

With proper respect paid, his Mistress ascended the stairs.  Once about half way up Patrick started his ascent.   At the top of the stairs was a long hallway with three doors on one side and one door on the other.  

“Your room Mistress is this first door.  The door next to it is the bath and the door next to that is my old room.”  Patrick said gesturing with his right hand while speaking in low tones as not to be over heard from downstairs.   “May I open your door Ma’am?”

No sooner had the words left his lips than he snickered.  He braced himself for the slap he expected but when he looked up she was smiling too.   It was that “cat who ate the canary” smile.

“You may open my door, boy.” She said.

Patrick move quickly in front of her and swung the door open sliding his hand inside to flip the light switch before jumping back out of the way so his mistress could enter.  She walked regally through the door to survey the interior.   The room had a definite feminine touch.  Soft pink roses forever frozen in two dimensions rained down the walls.  The room had a stale smell belying to its new occupant its disuse.  Frilly pink and cream pillows smothered the bed but they were the only way to distinguish between the walls and the bed being that the thick down filled floral comforter matched the rose strewn wallpaper.  The entire room echoed the same theme. 

“Someone should truly shoot Laura Ashley, if she weren’t already dead.  The truth be known they should have buried all this flowery crap with her.” 

The words slipped from her lips in such sardonic tones that once again Patrick wanted to laugh, but thought quickly better of it.

“I have always shared your opinion on that, Mistress,” He said as seriously as he could manage.  “MM-Mistress” He said.  Ma’am had almost rolled off his tongue and he knew he couldn’t have kept from laughing this time.  “Mistress” He repeated. “Would you like to see my room?”

“Why not?  After all I came to fuck you there.  So it stands to reason I should see it.”

“We can go down the hall or though the bathroom.  Which would prefer?”

“Close the door behind you and lock it.  We will take the tour of the bath along the way.”

Patrick turned, closed the door,turned the skeleton key in the lock and removed the key to hand it to his Mistress.

“Put the key back in the lock.” She said in a soft low voice but with a sharpness that Patrick knew was not a request but a command.  “I don’t want any possibility of a Peeping Tom.”

“Yes Ma’am” he answered.   All amusement had gone from the tambour of his voice and once again his was his Mistress’ servant. 

He felt more at ease now, more comfortable with the situation.   He once again stepped in front of his Mistress to open the doors and turn on the lights.  They walked through the clean very white bath with its tub, stool and two sinks with vanities.  Then Patrick opened the door to his room and switched on the light.  He stood back in order to allow his Mistress in first and then followed behind.  It was the first time in almost a year he’d been in this room and it still bore the decorations of his high days some three years ago and suddenly he was embarrassed.   There was his bed with it royal blue comforter and its football pillows.  There was the desk-chest of draws combo that resided in the corner across from his bed.   The surfaces of which were cluttered with a lifetime’s collection of memorabilia. The desktop displayed photos of a boy growing to man and mementos of the life that once was his.  The room he had lived in for eighteen years of his life seemed so foreign now.  As his Mistress surveyed the room all he could think of was why does mom keep all this crap?   His Mistress walked to the desk and lifted a 5X7 pictures of Patrick and his dad taken on some lake obviously on a long ago fishing trip.  Both man and boy were smiling holding up their catch of the day.  She smiled and replaced the picture.   Next she picked what appeared to be a braded string bracelet.  Beads had been woven in that spelled out “I Luv U” 

“Cute” she said as she dropped it back on the desk.

“It was from an old”

“Don’t bother,” she cut in holding up her hand.  “I don’t really care.”

To the back of the desktop behind what seem to be endless rows of keepsakes, she picked up a Budweiser long neck bottle.   Holding the dusty bottle between two fingers she turned to Patrick and raised one arched eyebrow. 

“It was my first beer,” he answered sheepishly.

She set the bottle back on the desk.  Then dusting her hands off as if she’d handled something so unclean that she would be coated in filth for life. She said in her same clam commanding voice, “Go draw my bath.”

Immediately Patrick turned on his heals and scurried out of the room.  As he passed through the bath he turned on the hot water first and then the heat lamps.   His Mistress strode at a leisurely pace with all the airs of a queen, through the bath and then on into her room where she seated herself in an overstuffed frilly armchair.   Patrick bustled first to his Mistress toiletry case and then back to the bathroom.  Soon the crisp smell of his Mistress’ custom-made bath oil filled the air.  Deep rich almost masculine scents that never failed to cause Patrick’s nipples to harden.   He returned to his Mistress.  He stepped behind her and lifted her hair, gave it several twists and used clips to hold up so it wouldn’t get wet in the bath.  Then he moved in front of her and removed her heels.  With a soft brush he dusted away the grit of the day from her barefeet.  Then he kissed each toe lightly.   She stood and he followed.  His fingers slipped under the sides of her sweater as she raised her arms.  He pulled it gently over her head.  Once the sweater lifted passed her huge breast, he could see they hung like two ripe mammoth melons in her light blue bra.   His mouth watered and he new his cock was starting to stir.  He dropped to his knees and unfastened the button on her jeans and slowly dropped the fly.  He was a close as he could get.  He wanted to smell her.  He loved the way her nether region smelled.  That musky sweaty smell nearly drove him wild.   He slipped the tight jeans down carefully as not to pull her panties down with them.  He knew she like to tease any man while getting undressed so he was to make sure her panties never came down while removing her outter garment, no matter how tight they were.  

She stepped free of the pants and push him aside as she walked to the waiting tub.  On all fours he followed behind.  Once next to the tub she stood waiting.   He moving on all fours behind her where only then he stood.  Without a word he tugged hard at the fasteners that held the bra.  As they let go he could feel the weight of the massive breast drop.  His cock was rock hard.  She slipped her arms out of the straps and the limp garment fell heavy into his hands.  He quickly pulled it to his nose and sniffed.  She had heard the sudden in take of breath and swinging her right hand over head she slapped him hard on the side of the head. 

“Sorry Mistress, I couldn’t resist,” he said.

He slipped the middle finger on each hand through the strings that held the two light blue lacey triangles in place.  He dropped his body as he pushed her panties to the floor.  He again breathed deep for his face was just inches from the deep dark crevasse that separated those two plump voluptuous mounds.  He longed to stick out his tongue and bury his face as deep as it would go into her precious ass but it was not his place.  He stood up still behind her and offered his hand so she could step into the tub with its scented oils and bubbles. 

She slipped in to the water and she moaned in delight.  He picked up both her panties and bra and laid them on the vanity.   He then left the room to change.   She rested in the mind numbing warm water as she waited on his return.

PART II

As they pulled into the driveway, Patrick ran over and over his scripts.  Playing Meet the Parents was the part of the weekend he was looking forward too.  He realized his cock had not just gone soft but more like when it was cold, it was drawn up inside him. 

She was beautiful as helped her out of the care.  Her body was heaven to him.  Her breasts were large and she had a rounded curvy figure.  She was short but it made the high spiked heals she always wore very appropriate.  As he took her hand supporting her as she lifted herself from the seat, his eyes were drawn to the two massive orbs nearly screaming to free themselves of the tight baby blue cashmere sweater with the low scooped neck.  His cock immediately reacted.  But with the though of the role he was about to play in just moments the stirring within his pants was short lived.  He bowed his as she stepped in front him, together with her in the lead by at least three paces they both headed for his parents front door.

 He stepped up and rang the doorbell.  

“You ring the doorbell at your parent’s house?”  She asked with a look of confusion on here face.

“Always have since I moved out, Mistress,” was his rather sheepish response.

Patrick’s mother answered the door with his father standing behind her.   They were all smiles as they welcomed both their only son and girl friend in to their home.   It was show time and he knew that things were just about to get weird.  He set his mind to his task and began the introductions. 

“This is my mom, Sharon and my dad, Brad.  Mom, Dad this is Ma’am.” He said in a very matter of fact way.  Just like one would say anyone else’s name.  

Both parent look confused.

“Ma’am?” His mother questioned.

Yes Ma’am.  My mother thought she was naming me Myam but she didn’t get it right and named me Ma’am.   So until most folks get use to it they seem to stumble a bit.  The upside is every one who hears you will think you are very polite” Patrick’s Mistress said with sweet innocent smile accompanied by soft chuckle.

“Well Ma’am dinner is served.” His mother said in her best British maid’s voice.  Then she smiled and gave a slight curtsy.   His father bowed deep and gestured to the dinning room.

“Right this way Ma’am.” He said lowering his voice and he too addopting a British accent.

 His Mistress took her rightful place in front of the family and headed into dinner.  He could only shake his head in wonderment.  She had planned it all.  Now she even had is parents calling her Ma’am and following behind her.   It was at that moment he knew why he loved her and why he would serve her until the end of time if she would let him.

Patrick and his Mistress spent most of dinner suppressing laughter.  Patrick snorted with the effort so many times his mother became convinced he was coming down with a cold and even once she even put her hand on his forehead to check for a fever.  With that his Mistress snorted and wine come out her nose as she grabbed for her napkin.

 “Good heavens!” His mother exclaimed.  “Not you too Ma’am?”

Patrick lost it and laughed so hard he started to cough.  From the look on his face his Patrick’s father knew something was rotten in Denmark but he didn’t say a word.  His mother, however, never seem to have caught on.  Her maternal instincts more focused on her son’s ailing health.

Directly after dinner his mother informed Patrick and his Mistress that they should take a hot bath and retire early.

“Had she planned this too,” he wondered to himself.

His mother led them out of the dinning room and was going to take them upstairs.  

“Mom,” he said.  “I know where my room is and I know where the guest room is too.  I don’t think you need to show us.

“Now Ma’am,” she said.  “You’ll have to share a bath with Patrick, so you just lock the door and stay in that tub as long as you like.  You get yourself a good soak.  Don’t let that boy annoy you.” 

With that she patted Patrick’s Mistress on the back and kissed her son on the check as she headed off to the kitchen to clean up.

He had picked her up at the airport.  They had only been together two other times in real time but they had spent endless hours on the net.  She was his Goddess and even in tight blue jeans, an even tighter sweater and spiked high heals she made him hard just seeing her walk across the terminal. 

She smiled at him and then gave him a wink followed by a smirk.  He knew that was an evil smirk and that she was thinking nasty thoughts about him.  He smirked back.   He never knew what she had in mind but he was always ready for it.  It didn’t matter how intense, how painful or how humiliating.  She drove him crazy with her wild ideas.  He lived to fulfill her sexual fantasies.  He was so excited to be a part of them.   It was always the risk factor that got his blood rushing and his heart pounding.

He collected her bags from baggage check and headed to the car.  She of course carried nothing.  She was his Mistress, Goddess and Queen and he was her slave boy.  He stowed the bags in the trunk and opened the door for her.  He then got into the drivers seat, put the key in the ignition and started to buckle his seat belt.  Then he stopped as he remembered his instruction letter he had received about two weeks ago.   He’d been given many instructions and told to memorize them for later use. 

He had been asking about her trip when he remembers before latching his seat belt.  He stopped let go of the belt.  Like a well trained boy, he unbuckled his pants and remove both pants and boxers.  He cock was rock hard.   She smiled at him.  She was pleased, very pleased he had followed his instructions.  He fastened his seatbelt, started the car and headed out of the parking lot.   When he stopped to pay the toll at the gate the women looked down and saw his hard cock sticking in the air.  The woman took his money and lean down to look at his Mistress. 

“Now you have a great day honey.  But then again with him in that mood I’m sure you will.”  She said with a grin and a wink. 

He thought for a moment that she was going to reach down and touch his cock.   His cock bounced even harder as he found the thought enjoyable.

“God, this woman sitting next to me has to be the most sexually charged creature on the planet.”  He thought to himself.  “She brings out the sexual powers of everyone she meets.”

The conversation flowed with ease.  It seemed that they had so much in common.  Never once did she seem to notice that he was naked form the waste down with a raging boner. 

As ordered he told her when they were within ten minutes of his folk’s house.  She had him stop the car and put his pants back on.  

“Not ready for your folks to know what kind of kinkster you really are yet.”  She said with a smile.

He did as commanded and then they headed on to his parents house.  It had been her desire to meet his parents and spend the weekend with them.  He had resisted as long as he could.  He knew it even before she had told him in her instruction letter that it was all about sex.   She wanted to fuck him in his old room at his parent’s house.   And to his great surprise he wanted her too as well.

Two years ago I found two boys to serve me.  That where great and I would still have them if I hadn’t moved from Kansas City.  But all it was great while it lasted.  Now I seek again.  I had forgotten how many sub/slave men were out there.   I want thank all who have written.  I try and acknowledge every message but I’m sure I’ve missed some.   I’ve even acknowledged the ones without pics which I said I wouldn’t do.   But I won’t any longer there are just too many of you knocking at my door.   Don’t send pics that have your genital showing.  There will be plenty of time for that later.  I want to see you face first you body second and not you penis until requested.

I am an odd Domme because I want to love my sub/slave.   I am strict and demanding but I want to base my relationship on love and honesty.