Archive for the 'Mistress Worship' Category

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A day in the life:

Tuesday. That must mean Mr. Thompson up first, 9:30. Mr. Brown at 11:00. New client at 1:30, Mr. Fisher. Hmm, problem there, Fisher lives across town and 4:00 client lives in the next town over. Mr. Sanders at 4:00. Tight scheduling. Mr. & Mrs. Watkins at 7:00.

Bigger day than usual.

9:30, Thompson. Maternity bra unclasped, starting with the left breast today. He suckles and soon I’m breastfeeding a 45 year-old man. He’s a good boy really, a healthy, happy baby. He’s fussy though, must have all the milk available. Such an appetite!

10:05, left breast depleted, switch to right.

“Something tastes different today,” says my baby. Ah, his first words. I’m so proud.

“My diet has been a little different over the past week. Does it still taste good?”

“Very yummy, mummy!” What a cute little boy, suckle away, you need all the strength you can get. Growing boys need mother’s milk, to grow up big and strong.

10:32. Right breast depleted, time for mother to get going.

“Same time next week?”

“No, I have to go out of town for couple of weeks, so it’ll be a while,” says he.

“Well, I’ll have plenty saved up for you then, so maybe you’ll need more time.” I love my little baby.

11:00, Brown, walking distance from Thompson’s, rather awkward, ass is really stuffed, and have to drink lots of water. Have about two litres from sports bottles. Brown is already sitting at his desk, head down in shame.

Really, getting detention again! How students learn anything these days when they spend all their time rough housing and getting into trouble. It makes me so angry, I need to enforce discipline. Time to break out the trusty old cane.

“Brown, front and centre! You’ve been very naughty haven’t you, young man?

“Yes ma’am.”

“You need discipline don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Really, a fifty year old schoolboy, getting into fights. You should be setting an example for the younger students!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t start it, it was-,”

“No excuses Mr. Brown. You need to be punished.”

“No please, ma’am, please. I’ll do anything!”

“No, no. You need discipline. Pants down, bend over the desk!” Insolent little boy, trying to weasel out of punishment. I’ll give him the caning of his life.

WHACK! Whimpering, a little boy trying to act like a man. Well, a man needs to know pain and discipline to get through life. WHACK! Right across the buttocks. Red lines, signs that he’s learning something. WHACK, WHACK. WHACK!

He cries like the boy that he really is.

“If you want to be a man, you’ve got learn rules and discipline. If this is the only way to help you, I must punish you!” More whacks, and he begs me, please stop. But I can’t. It’s for his own good! Begging is the last refuge for hopeless little boys. He must be a man!

I whack him silly, his little bottom, once so pale, is now burning with crimson fire of shame and guilt. Yes, he shall learn from this, surely.

“Very well, Mr. Brown. Have you learned you lesson?”

“Yes ma’am,” between sobs.

“Detention is over.”

11:45, leaving Brown. In transit to Mr. Fisher. Drinking more water while riding bus across town. Another two litres, bladder really, really hurts. Need to pee, but must hold it in. Ass is uncomfortable because of bladder pressure.

1:30, Fisher residence. Balding little man in glasses and a turtleneck. Well, he just want’s acts not roles.

“Where’s your toilet?” I really need to go now.

“This way, let me get my camera.” That’s right, he wants footage. Most people don’t, it could be discovered by their relatives and expose their secret desires and stuff.

“Okay, face away, and squat over the toilet.” He leaves the seat up. Camera rolling, you’re a star girl! “Wait a minute, first fill this glass, then the rest for the flush.”

Whatever you say baldy. It’s a pretty small glass, and filling it only causes more suffering, since I have to hold back the rest. My bladder is killing me, and my ass is getting really uncomfortable. I fill the glass, then he turns the camera on himself, and drinks my pee.

“How is it?”

“Not quite as delicious as I’d been led to believe. Oh well, ready?” I nod. “Go!”

And boy do I go. It’s such a relief to be rid of all this liquid. It takes a couple of minutes to get it all out. He comes over and pats me dry with toilet paper.

“Wonderful, just exquisite.” Another satisfied customer! That’s always something to be proud of.

“So, same time next week?”

“Actually, I think just this once was good enough for me. Plus I have the tape. You’ve given me a treasured memory. Thank you so much.”

Well, I aim to please, as they say.

1:47, leaving Fisher. Catching bus to neighbouring town, have to make it to Mr. Sanders. Ass feels a little better now, but a long bus ride just leaves me itching and anxious.

4:00, Sanders.

“Hello again, well, let’s see what you’ve got for me this week!” He’s so excited, I hope I can live up to his expectations. It’s really hard to come up with a weekly surprise for Mr. Sanders, but his life is so dull, I just have to help out.

“Do you have some lubricant? I think I’ll need it.” He has some, you know it’s not the kind of stuff you can carry around with you all day. He grabs his camera. His surprises are the gift the keeps on giving, when he tapes them that is.

I apply a rather generous amount of lube to my anus, and do my best to get some up into my rectum. I’m kneeling on the couch for this, but it could get a little messy. Oh well, another surprise for him then.

I push mightily. Strain, strain, push, huff. It’s quite an ordeal getting something out of your ass that’s been up there all day long.

“Wow, you’re so amazing!” He loves these gifts. Shame his appointment isn’t later, then he could use today’s surprise with tonight’s dinner.

I push and strain. And eventually, a nice long and thick cucumber emerges from my anus. Let me tell you, it’s like getting over constipation. That first time you get something truly enormous out of your butt, you feel so much better for it.

“Oh my God! Thank you, thank you!” He shouts with glee at the rectal cucumber.

CuCUMber, get it? Nobody likes that joke.

“I’m gonna eat this right now. Time for a salad!” Well, that’s the best thanks I can get. My ass is good enough to eat out of.

4:45, that cucumber sure took a while to come out. But the bus ride home is much more relaxing for it’s absence. And the rest of my day is relaxing too.

7:00, Watkins residence. They just want someone to watch, and to operate a camera. They didn’t trust a guy, and didn’t want to ask a friend. So I get the job. And I can’t complain. It’s easy, pays well, and I like doing it.

I’m very helpful that way.

9:15, man can those guys last! Always fun to watch. Better than TV, better than a movie. I love my job. Anyway, my day is over. Time to go home and take a long bath.

Dog Training, Part 1[scratching the itch]

The following is an except from my puppy’s diary… hope you enjoy!!!
I didn’t think my ball gag would ever become comfortable and tried to catch my breath through my nose. Here, along with my butt-plug, was something else I had to gnaw on, something to keep my mind on. My Mistress provided me something for my front, as well as my rear. It made swallowing and drooling involuntary and came with straps that bit into the sides of my mouth in admonition, as an indelicate reminder more disturbing then the leggings and tail, but still no match for my groin’s itchiness. The itchiness was a beast, an abomination that kept me twitching and on the brink of doubling over.

I was beyond controlling myself for very long and would begin squirming without even realizing it. It was the bite of dog whip and yank of leash that kept bringing me back in line. My Mistress held both leashes tight and so short I was practically lifted into the air. My face and body were dripping in sweat, tears, and saliva that ended up on the floor along with my cock’s slaver. I could feel the moisture cascading down my face and body in sheets. I could feel it run in ticklish rivers, down my arms and thighs, over hills and into crevices. The constantly changing currents of warm and cold, along with my organ being eaten alive, were helping to drive me out of my mind. But my Mistress didn’t care about my misery and pulled the leashes even tighter. She’d made it clear she had every intention of keeping me as miserable as she could until I learned my place. Even now my Mistress was simply waiting for me to compose myself, which was impossible under the circumstances, but she not only understood this, she counted on it.

On top of all this, my head was now strapped into a leather contraption I’d just become aware of. I wished to keep it out of my mind, but it was so confining and had become so irritating, it was unimaginable and compelling beyond measure. My head was literally bound into a leather grating that was very tight and extremely unpleasant. There was a strap girding my forehead and there must have been at least five belts crossing my head in all, maybe as many as seven. There was a triangle of small leather straps through which my nose protruded and one that connected under my chin without interfering with my mouth. The binding ran in every which direction and pressed in from all directions. My Mistress had cinched my head tight and I felt as if my head were about to explode and I almost wished it would.

SNAP! The whip caught my buttocks again and I jumped. My mind took off and then crashed back to earth while my Mistress used the leashes to hold me in position. I no longer knew what I was doing, nor cared what was happening to me and let the leash’s dictate my posture as best they could. The itching, leashes, and dog whip were my only reference points and between their arrivals and departures I began rubbing my thighs together anew. I’d almost forgotten where I was and really didn’t care, because I was in the grips of a single desire, a craving so powerful it dominated every brain cell I had, closing my mind to anything else. I needed to catch my organ with my thighs at all costs; I needed to scratch the itch. I needed to do this so badly I was ready to do anything at all. But the dog whip came to remind me yet again.

SNAP! Its devastating bite caught my right buttocks and inside thigh. It was a slap in the face, a flash of reality that came out of the sky as a lightening bolt and hit with as much force. My Mistress kept me in line and standing obediently even though my head was spinning and tumbling in chaotic disturbances I would do anything to quell. My Mistress yanked the leashes and I lifted my head, knowing what it was she expected of me. I looked up in search of her and my tails tip, but couldn’t locate either. She yanked on my balls to lift my ass and tail higher. Since I couldn’t see very well through my tears, I relied on my Mistress for guidance.

“Come on, I’m waiting,” she said in a suddenly more pleasant voice. She yanked on my balls again and I strained to get my ass even higher. I felt the tails tip brush my forehead and tilted my head to send my nose in pursuit. I missed it again and thought I heard my Mistress giggle. I felt very much like a falling-down drunk trying to touch her nose while seeing double and reeling from Bourbon.

“Would you like me to make the itch go away fluffy,” my Mistress asked me. I shook my head yes and attempted to bark. I figured she would understand my gurgles and sprays. I felt the tails tip bounce around on my face, tickling my forehead cheeks and chin, but I had the hardest time making it meet the tip of my nose.

“Okay. First you must stand properly,” she said, and I may have wondered what it was she thought I was attempting to do, but I was only a puppy. “I promise to make all the itch go away once we get to my car,” she went on. So I followed her instructions and went on fighting the need to scratch while trying to connect nose and tail. Anything, I would do anything at this point to be rid of the itchiness; anything at all.

“Come on now, get that nose and tail together little boy and it’s off to the car and bye bye itch,” she said almost softly. She yanked on the leashes a bit and let me have another snap of the dog whip. The barbed tip caught either cheek or inside thigh, yet always spared my testicles, and for that I was thankful.

Snap!

“Get in position and I’ll make the itch go away. Come on, let’s go take care of that terrible itch right now,” she said again. The screams caused by the itching were drowning out the voice of my Mistress, and the itch was threatening to take me down again. Still I struggled to follow orders because I wanted my Mistress to make the itch go away more than anything else in the world. So I fought against overwhelming odds to keep from scratching myself as my body turned into one big itch and terrorized me to death.

Snap! Another bite brought me back in line long enough to take the short trip to the back door. As we headed down the hallway she continued to yell commands, keeping the leashes short. She almost lifted me several times but I didn’t care because the itchiness was killing me. Whenever I got to a point of failing to the itch, another snap curtailed that moment’s reflection and I crawled on to the yanks.

I think my Mistress may have gotten her biggest surprise upon reaching the back door. It was then that I jumped a little ahead. Suddenly and to her surprise I jumped up and put my front paws on the knob, pretending to turn an object I couldn’t even grip. It was her promise to relieve me of the itch when I got to her car that spurred me into this burst of action. ‘Yes, she had been right once more’, I thought to myself as her hand came to my rescue. The door opened and I went back and down with it. Yes, she’d been right again… she already had me crawling out my door and into the world entirely naked.

“Come along fluffy,” my Mistress said pulling me along beside her and out of my apartment.