Serious Mistress


               “So you want a serious Mistress huh?  Most submissives that want a serious Mistress aren’t even serious themselves, and this lifestyle is not just fun and games.  It is much more, and requires someone devoted and committed to living it to the best of their abilities.”  Looking down at the young naked submissive on all fours with his head bowed to the ground, I contemplated his seriousness and his worth. 

                My riding crop trails down his back, and with a hard whack on his ass cheek, it startles him.  He raised his head to look up, a bit unsure and no doubt nervous.  He was a newbie, living the lifestyle only in dreams, and I am proud of him for showing up and being brave despite his fears and how terrifying it must be to take the plunge into real time submission.  Oh, and I love how he trembles and fidgets, I can almost hear his heart racing in time with my pacing.

                “Please Mistress, I am real and serious.  Let me prove it to you.”  Ah, the worm speaks.

                I laughed, how could I not?  They all say that, but when it comes to their actions, it contradicts everything they say.   “I want to believe you, but you know talk is cheap right?  What are you willing to do for me, to prove that you are real, and that I should spend my precious time with you?”

                “Anything, Mistress.  I’ll do anything.”  Typical answer.  Not one that I was hoping to hear, I’d actually thought he’d reply with something more thought out or realistic, or how he’d trust my judgment and do as ordered in a fast and obedient manner to prove himself.

                “You’re a fool.  I thought you were smarter than that.  Anything?  I would strongly suggest you refrain from saying that word to me, or to anyone else unless you mean it.  Especially not at this stage and considering how new you are.”  I sat down on a chair a few feet away and crossed my legs, and pulled on the leash that I’d attached to his temporary collar.  He hasn’t earned the right to be my sub or slave yet. 

                “Please Mistress, I’ll be good.  Just train me.”  He looks like a little lost puppy.  A puppy that I’m going to kick, haha.  I am so horrible and I love it!  Being a Mistress gives me control, and the license to rule, at least in my world and theirs.

He crawled towards me, there’s something so delicious about watching a slave crawl towards you naked, and especially if you’ve got a good view and can see that hard erection bobbing with their movement.  No matter how mean, how cruel, or what harsh words you say, that piece of hard flesh just confirms how much they love this rough treatment and that puts a nice wicked smile on my face.

Pulling him towards my thigh, I grabbed a handful of hair and directed him to remove my fishnet stockings with his teeth, which he was only too happy to do so.  “Give me your hands.”  “Yes, Mistress.”  I started tying them together with coarse corded rope I’d bought at Home Depot, the rough fibers would feel scratchy on his wrist.  I then proceeded to tie his feet together and stuffed the stockings into his mouth.  I sat in my chair and rested my feet on his chest, occasionally flicking my riding crop at his cock and balls as I watched TV and thought about all the fun things I would do to him.  During the commercial breaks I couldn’t resist leaning down to pinch his nipples and cock, watching the precum leak out, sometimes I’d even poke his dick with my sharp heels.




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