slave gets what he begged for

I met my Mistress in the front waiting room... She'd already prepared herself, put on her make-up and dressed in the attire She knew I liked. Today was a special session. I had won the Salon Kitty's begging competition and had a 'free' session with Her

I sat on the lounge, until She walked in. On seeing Her I dropped to my knees. I liked the fantasy to begin as soon as I lay eyes on Her. I gave Her a piece of paper that outlined my wishes for our time together. She would incorporate these, but would always do the unexpected to lure me into deeper submission to Her.

We chatted briefly and She left the room. The receptionist let me know that I should wait for Her in the bathroom. She also made sure I was given a drink. She told me I would need it.

When She arrived in the bathroom I was already in slave position, naked on the floor, a towel beneath me. Like a trained dog....I was Her bitch was waiting for my enema. My ass greedily swallowed up the one and a half litres without difficulty. I would be very clean for Her so She could take full advantage of me. It would take awhile to empty myself out and shower. This would give Her time to plan the session, gather Her implements and chat to Her fellow Mistresses about what She was going to do to Her slave, amongst other things.

I called down to say I was ready for Her. I heard Her walking up the stairs. The dungeon's atmosphere had already been set: subdued lighting, candles burning and soft music. It was now time for my Mistress to weave Her twisted web of seduction around me.

I was in the mandatory position when She entered the dungeon. My flabby bottom was pushed up and beckoned Her to thrash it. But first She had to dress me. Mistress pulled the leather hood over my head and laced it up, tightly compressing my skull. She made sure I could see through the mask but even my sight could be taken away if She decided. Next She put on my collar, nice and tight. She didn't know my real name, my age or what I did....and She didn't care. Here in this room with my hood on I was now Her anonymous sub, a faceless object to be defiled.

After allowing me to pay my respect to Her black leather boots She started on my bottom. She used an array of implements: the crop, the strap the paddle and Her hand. When I began to whimper from my blows She would stop and gently stroke my buttocks or my caged cock to excite me and then She would hit me again. She made me count every stroke and thank Her for each one. She watched my buttocks glow red with successive blows, my flinching and crying as Her strikes got stronger. Her gift of pain lowered my resistance, to get beyond my flimsy ego and put me in my rightful place. When I was starting to look like I was reaching my limit, tensing with each blow, She stopped so She could beat me again later. Mistress's bladder was feeling full. It was time to degrade me by converting me to a toilet. I was ordered to arrange some towels on the floor, and place the perspex toilet over the towels. I removed my mask and lay down on my back, my head encased and immobilized in the toilet box. Mistress lowered Her beautiful bottom onto the throne and relieved Herself on my face, making sure my open mouth, the receptacle for Her piss, received an ample drenching.

After making me clean up She put my hood on, cuffed my arms to the metal bar hanging from the ceiling and hoisted it up. She put some leg spreaders on me and then wound up the chain so my arms were stretched above my head. I received another good flogging while I was stretched out. When my whimpers became continuous Mistress let me down.

She had decided to give Her slave a special treat and allow me to touch Her. She came in and sat on the dungeon throne and told me to kneel at Her feet. I was ordered to gently remove Her boots and give Her feet a massage. I caressed Her feet with awe. Carefully and methodically I kneaded Her foot muscles trying to please Her. She seemed satisfied but didn't tell me what a good massage I gave Her. After all, I wasn't there to be complimented.

She was now ready to give me a little more intimacy. Mistress had no taboo as far as anal sex was concerned. I believe She realized the power it gave Her. Mistress provided Her slaves with something they never got from the vanilla world, a submissive release like no other. She told me to bend over the whipping horse and look at myself in the mirror in front of me. She fastened Her strap-on to Her crotch and gloved Her right hand. She lubricated my well-exposed anus with Her fingers before entering my asshole and lubing me up internally. She then mounted me. Her hard artificial cock slid into me with no effort. I murmured my thank-you. I lay there passively as She slowly began to fuck me, gradually increasing the size and depth of Her strokes. Mistress's thighs rhythmically thrust against my butt cheeks. She draped her body over me, pressing Her breasts against my back and told me to watch in the mirror as She, my Mistress screwed me up the ass. What a sight it was; the Queen Bee subjugating Her drone!

I was then commanded to place myself up on the sling. Mistress cuffed my legs apart and bound my hands firmly behind my back. She then wound ropes around my legs so my knees were pulled further apart. A large butt plug was inserted in my fuck-hole and tied in. Now I was Her helpless victim, prepared in my cocoon and She was ready to finish me off. Like a female praying mantis seducing her mate, She would devour me.

Mistress climbed up on the sling to taunt me with Her body, thrusting Her pelvis in my face. I told Her how beautiful She was but She had no time for my praise. Instead She climbed down and grabbed my cock, erect like a jack-in-the-box. She gloved Her left hand and removed my butt plug leaving my hole stretched and ready.

Fisting must be done slowly and gently. Mistress's hand must entice Her slave's rectum to accept an unnaturally large object, Her whole left fist. She pushed slowly till I completely opened and She was fully inside me up to Her wrist. I had given my body to Her totally. With Her right hand She began to stroke my cock. Quickly I told Her I felt like I wanted to cum. She gave me Her permission and increased the speed of Her strokes.

With that the semen spurted from my cock, my body arched and my pelvic and anal muscles contracted vigorously around Her left hand... I exploded as my Mistress revelled in the strength of the orgasm She had given me. She continued to milk me until I begged Her to stop.

When I was finished She helped me down from the sling and told me to kneel at Her feet, kiss Her boots and thank Her. She removed my hood and mask. In my post-orgasmic state I know I looked a little bewildered. I felt somewhat embarrassed and guilty after my performance. But I knew such feelings always pass quickly and were to be ignored. They were a mere prelude to the wonderful craving that would inevitably draw me back to Her.

Mistress turned Her back on me and walked nonchalantly out the door.

'It wasn't a question of when I'd return to see Her', I mused, as She walked out of the dungeon and down the stairs, 'but rather how long I could keep myself away!' I can't wait for the next begging competition!