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Learning Ch. 01

By: FemDom2003



 (As a number of astute readers have pointed out, the names of my characters in the original version of this story got mixed up. This version corrects that.)

The party was getting boring and I was getting tired. It was almost 11:00 p.m. I started to move toward the door when I noticed, for the first time, a lady dressed in an inviting black skirt and sheer white blouse that revealed a pretty white-laced bra beneath. I caught her eye and, surprisingly, she smiled at me. I think I blushed. 

Moving toward her, past a few revelers, I got a closer look. She was stunning. A clear, milky-white complexion. Long auburn hair. Deep blue eyes. An engaging smile. Perfect teeth. A cute pug nose. She was holding a glass of red wine.

"Hi, I don't believe we've met," I said. "I'm David…"

"David Reynolds," she interrupted.

I was startled. "How do you know my name?"

"I asked someone," she replied with a coy smile. "I'm Sarah. Sarah Haney."

"Well, I'm please to meet you, Sarah."

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Reynolds."

I wondered why she didn't address me by my first name, but there was something quite pleasing about her formality. We spent the next half hour finding out about each other. She was an attorney, apparently well-to-do. Soft spoken. She liked to laugh. When she talked to me, her eyes seemed to go through mine. She had a habit I especially liked— she lightly touched my arm from time to time to make a point. 

When she finished her glass of wine I asked her if I could get her another. "I'd prefer a martini," she said.

"On the rocks?"

"I prefer to make my own," she replied. 

"I'll be glad to help you."

"I should hope so," she laughed. "Would you be kind enough to go upstairs and get my coat?"

I looked at her with a bewildered look. "I thought you wanted a martini."

"I do. But I have the perfect ingredients at my residence, Mr. Reynolds."

I was stunned. There was no doubt about what she meant. "I… I thought you said you were married."

She laughed again. "I am. Is there anything wrong with a drink between friends?"

It was my turn to smile broadly. "No, of course not."

"My coat is the half-length black leather coat in the closet near the front door."

I retrieved her coat and helped her into it. The leather was unbelievably supple. "Thank you," she said. "You are a gentleman, Mr. Reynolds. I am driving the white Maxima out front. Why don't you follow me."

She led the way. It was my first real opportunity to steal a glance at her legs. They were perfect, like the rest of her. Long and sleek. I wondered if I would get a chance to see more of them later."

Her house was a dream. Tastefully decorated. Well maintained. She threw her coat over a chair near the door as I followed her in. I placed mine on top of it.

"The bar is in the rec room downstairs, Mr. Reynolds."

I followed her again. Her exquisite ass strained against the tight black skirt. She had to have known I was looking at it. 

The rec room was just as beautiful as the rest of the house, occupying the entire basement. A pool table with a bright green cover over it was in the middle of the room. The bar was stacked with a wide variety of liquors.

"May I get you something, Mr. Reynolds?"

"I'll have what you are having, Sarah."

"I make a really mean martini," she laughed. "How do you like yours?"

"On the rocks, with a lemon twist."

I watched her make two drinks. Hers was straight up, with an olive. She handed me mine and moved to a tan leather sofa. Politely, I waited for her to be seated. She crossed her legs demurely. I sat next to her.

"I guess your husband is not at home," I said, somewhat nervously.

She laughed, obviously aware of my nervousness. "He's away on a month-long business trip to Singapore. He just left yesterday."

We chatted for at least an hour. Her seemingly innocuous touches continued throughout the conversation, sometimes on my forearm, sometimes on my thigh. I was growing more and more enamored with her as the evening wore on. Just as I was wondering if I should make a move, she shifted her body toward me and brought her face closer to mine. "You have very informative eyes," she said. "I can tell a lot about a man from his eyes."

Suddenly she leaned forward and kissed me, her hand moving stealthily to the back of my head. The kiss, light at first, kindled into passion. When her tongue sought mine, I thought I was in heaven. My erection was instantaneous. When she broke the kiss, she looked down at the obvious bulge in my pants.

I blushed.

"We've awakened a sleeping giant, I see."

"I don't know about the 'giant' part," I said. "But it sure isn't sleeping."

She laughed. "I am glad to see you are easily aroused. I like that in a man."

I couldn't believe my good fortune. I was already picturing her naked body in a satin- covered bed.

"I didn't bring you home, Mr. Reynolds, merely for drinks and conversation."

I smiled. "You had an ulterior motive?" I asked coyly.

"Exactly. Stand up in front of me." Her words were more like a order from a drill sergeant than a sexy request, but I complied. "Lower your zipper," she commanded.

Her eyes were glued to my crotch as I pulled the zipper down. 

"Take your cock out, Mr. Reynolds."

I reached inside and somehow managed to disengage my penis from inside my underpants, allowing my erection to poke skyward from the "V" of my lowered fly. 

"Move your hand out of the way. Give me a better look."

I moved my hand away from the front of my pants. I felt foolish standing there with a solid-gold erection in front of a woman I hardly knew, but was beginning to fall for in a big (no pun intended) way. She stared at my cock for at least a minute, studying it like a child with a schoolbook. I waited for her to reach out and touch it.

"Masturbate."

I looked at her dumbfoundedly. "What?" I asked incredulously.

"Make it come for me," she said in that same commanding voice.

This was insane. "I… I…"

"Sorry. You are taking too long, Mr. Reynolds. Let me show you to the door."

She arose from the sofa, being careful when she uncrossed her legs not to give me too much of a glimpse between them.

"I don't understand," I said, already feeling a deep sense of disappointment.

"It's very simple, Mr. Reynolds. I do not permit hesitation when I ask someone to do something. You may put that thing back in your pants and get your coat."

Her tone was obvious. I eased my now half-hard erection into my pants and zippered back up. Retrieving my coat from the chair, she showed me to the door. 

I turned toward her as I left. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I would like to see you again. Please."

The look on her face was cold as ice. "I doubt that that will ever happen, Mr. Reynolds. Good evening."

The sound of the door closing behind me hurt terribly. I went home and hardly slept. I had become infatuated with this beautiful woman. The next morning, a Saturday, I looked up her telephone number in the phone book. Thankfully it was not unlisted. Her sexy voice was on an answering machine.

"Sarah. This is David. If you are there, please pick up."

Silence.

"Sarah, please call me. 344-5428."

A day went by. No call. I called again on Sunday. Answering machine again. I left the same message with one difference—the "please" was more like a pleading.

Still no return phone call. I guess I gave up and realized this dream of a woman would never be in my arms.

Just after dinner on the following Saturday, my phone rang. 

"Hello?"

"Mr. Reynolds?"

"Yes! Sarah???"

"I think you are worth one more chance. There was potential there."

"I am sorry if I offended you," I blurted.

"You didn't offend me at all, Mr. Reynolds. You disobeyed me. If you can follow simple commands, then you are welcome to drop this evening."

"I… I'll do anything."

"I know you will. That's why I am inviting you over. BUT—if you even hesitate for a brief second when I ask you to do something, the evening will be over immediately. Is that understood?"

Domineering was too light a word for this woman, but I was so drawn to her that I readily agreed.

I knocked on her door and it was opened by a maid dressed in a typical maid's uniform, black with a white apron. I was surprised to see the maid. She was quite pretty, perhaps 24 or 25 years old. 

"You are Mr. Reynolds?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Yes."

"Mrs. Haney is downstairs. I will show you to her."

I followed the maid to the recreation room that I had failed Sarah in. She was sitting on the same sofa, dressed this time in a totally black, form-fitting dress that almost took my breath away. She seemed more beautiful than I remembered her. "Thank you, Pricilla," she said.

Pricilla turned and went back upstairs. Sarah smiled. "Welcome back, Mr. Reynolds. I trust we can come to better terms on your return trip."

I felt that familiar blush. "I hope so."

"Mr. Reynolds, you were dismissed last week because you felt a need to disobey me. You must understand that when I ask you to do something… anything… anything at all, it will be done without question, without hesitation. The second I feel you are incapable of that requirement, you will be asked to leave again. Only this time, you will never be invited to return. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now come closer to me."

I moved toward her. She was like a magnet. I was drawn to her in a way I had never been drawn to any woman. Had she cast some kind of spell on me? It was almost uncanny.

Suddenly she stared at my crotch. "Take it out again," she said in a firm voice.

My mind raced for a fleeting moment, wondering why she would do this with her maid in another room. As I lowered my fly, I looked at her and said, "It's not hard yet, Sarah."

"That is fine. I like to watch a cock get hard. I am sure we can achieve that state in just a few moments. And, Mr. Reynolds, until you are told otherwise, you are to address me as 'Mistress.'"

"Yes, Mistress." What the hell had I gotten myself into?

I took my penis out. She watched as it hung limply. "You have a gorgeous cock, Mr. Reynolds. I saw the 'after' last week, and I like the 'before' just as well." She stared at it while my face turned a thousand shades of red.

"You may make it hard now, Mr. Reynolds." I reached down and slowly stroked myself into an erection. It was surprisingly easy. I stood in front of her, stroking myself, while she watched intently. "Very nice," she almost cooed. "I like your cock very much. I think we can find some interesting things to do with it."

I was hoping she would.

"Bring it closer and take your hand away."

I stepped toward her as she leaned forward, my penis only inches from her face. Suddenly she reached inside my pants and gathered my testicles. Gently, she extracted them from the confines of my underpants and drew them outside into the night air. Her touch was electric and my cock gained in stature. 

"There is way too much hair on your balls, Mr. Reynolds. We will have to shave them, sooner than later."

I gulped. "Yes, Mistress."

She grasped my cock and squeezed it, lightly at first, and then quite firmly. Almost too tightly. Bit I endured, taking a deep breath. She ran her thumb alongside the urethra, pressing inward and upward, forcing clear pre-cum to emerge. "Very nice texture," she said in a voice soft as silk. "Except for the balls, I think everything is quite in order."

I wanted to thank her, but thought the better of it. She began to stroke me lightly for a few moments and I cocked my head back to enjoy the feeling. I could feel the urge building inside me. 

"One of my rules, Mr. Reynolds, is that you are not permitted to cum unless I give you permission. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Have you ever been whipped?" she asked out of the blue.

The word "whipped" buzzed around my head for a moment like a bee in a bottle. I bit my lower lip. "No, ma'am."

"You shall be, of course. Turn around and let me examine the target area." She released my cock and I turned away from her. "Drop your pants down," she ordered.

I opened my belt, undid the button, and let my pants drop to a circle around my feet. 

"The underpants too." The underpants followed. "Now bend over, hands on your knees."

As I bent over, she pushed my shirt half way up my back to give herself an unobstructed view of my naked ass. I felt her eyes on me, yet, despite the obvious embarrassment, I somehow liked the feeling of being under this woman's power. I felt her fingertips search the surface of my skin and then, without warning, she used her two thumbs to pry the cheeks apart, exposing my most private of places.

"Mmmmm. Very nice anus, too. Very fuckable."

I couldn't believe what I had just heard. I had never thought of my ass as "fuckable."

"The first evening, Mr. Reynolds, is always the easiest. Kind of a test to determine your predisposition to events that will follow. If you have potential for growth, then I am sure we will have many pleasant evenings together." Still prying my ass cheeks apart, she ran the nail of her index finger across my anus. It actually felt good. Surprisingly good. "But, as I said, the hairs on your genitals must be removed. Priscilla will take care of that in a few moments and then prepare you."

Holy shit! The maid shaving me???? And what was I going to be "prepared" for?

I could have stopped the proceedings right then and there. Before meeting Sarah I would have never let things get even this far. But her spell was far too deep to resist.

Suddenly she called Priscilla. Here I was, my backside exposed to the wind, and a maid I had barely met was standing next to me. "Yes, Mistress?"

So she called her "Mistress" too.

"Mr. Reynolds requires his genitals to be shaved. When you are done, bring him to the Pleasure Room and prepare him for a little whipping."

"At your service, Ma'am. Mr. Reynolds, please follow me."

I pulled up my clothes and followed Priscilla to a rather large, beautifully tiled bathroom. The bathroom was big enough to accommodate an eight-foot table that had bath towels laying across it.

"You will get completely undressed and lie down on the table," said the maid in a soft- spoken yet firm voice.

"Completely?" I asked.

She didn't answer me. Her stern look was all that was necessary. And I didn't want word to get back to Sarah that I had hesitated even in the slightest. So I disrobed down to my birthday suit, my cock now limp as a noodle, and eased my back onto the table. Priscilla seemed unaware of my predicament, moving about the bathroom, basically ignoring me. I closed my eyes and thought deeply about how far this all would go. I opened my eyes once more when I felt the maid's hands on my balls.

"I am going to lather you up a little," she said, half-whispering. "Please don't move."

When I saw the straight-edged razor in her hand, I knew I dare not move. Nonchalantly, she coated my testicles with a thick lather of shaving cream. It was quite cold to the touch and I felt my cock shrivel slightly at the first touch. She then lathered the area around the base of cock. I closed my eyes at the first touch of the blade to my privates. I was leaving my most worldly possessions in the hopefully capable hands of a young maid. 

I felt the blade contact the sensitive surface of the testicles. I gripped my hands tightly. "Relax, Mr. Reynolds, I have done this many times before." Somehow I assumed she had. As she removed the hairs around my balls, she applied more lather and soothingly warm water as needed to accomplish her mission. The rest of my pubic hairs were next. I was almost petrified, but kept perfectly still. Amazingly, I came through the procedure unscathed. Thank goodness!

Priscilla dried me with a soft cotton towel. Her touch urged my manhood slightly, but I maintained my dignity long enough for her to help me from the table. "Come with me, please," she said politely.

"My clothes?" "You won't be needing them where you are going, Mr. Reynolds. Not for the rest of the evening anyway."

Totally naked, my cock swinging freely, I walked next to Priscilla to a room at the far end of the corridor. She used a key to open the door, then held it for me to enter. There was only one item of furniture in the room, if you could call it furniture. A black sawhorse with a thick red velvet pad on top of the cross-bar. And leather cuffs at the bottom of each of the four legs. All of a sudden I had an idea of what being "prepared" meant.

"You will lean over the sawhorse, Mr. Reynolds," said Priscilla, "your tummy on top of the cushion."

With more than a little trepidation I moved across the thick carpet to the ominous-looking contraption that stood in the center of the room. Hardly had I bent over it when the maid moved to kneel behind me. Quickly she pulled my left leg to the side and affixed the leather cuff around it, tightening it just enough to cause a slight discomfort. She moved to the other side and did the same. I could only imagine the view she was getting with my legs spread wide and my genitals swinging in the breeze. Before I knew it, my wrists were shackled to the front of the sawhorse. For good measure, she drew a strap from one end of the sawhorse to the other, pulling it tightly over my back, ensuring my movements were all but impossible. Before she left, she placed a blindfold over my eyes so I was left in almost total darkness.

In an instant, Priscilla was gone, leaving me naked and alone. Purposefully, Sarah left me naked and alone like this to ponder my fate. I knew I was about to be whipped for the first time in my life, but I had no idea what else might be in store for me. As the minutes passed, the more worried I became. 

Finally, the door opened. I had no idea if it was Priscilla or Sarah who moved behind me. Whoever it was moved so quietly I could hardly hear movement. I strained to listen in the darkness. Then, without warning, I heard a slight whistling sound, followed by a loud crack of leather against flesh. Her leather. My flesh. I felt a searing, burning pain across my backside and cried out. My voice reverberated throughout the room.

"My dear Mr. Reynolds," came the voice through the pain. It was Sarah. Wickedly beautiful Sarah who was also wickedly painful Sarah. "If you are going to be a baby about this we are going to have to gag you. Please try to be a bit more quiet."

I braced myself for the next stroke. Instead, I felt a few light taps from the tip of whatever she was using. Then she reached back. I braced again, clenching my ass cheeks tightly.

"The more you clench like that, Mr. Reynolds, the more it will hurt. You will need to learn to relax and accept. Easy for her to say. And the second I relaxed she wailed into me with a second stroke that must have left a huge gash. It didn't, of course, but it sure felt like it. My ass was literally on fire from just two measures of her merciless whip. 

"He is taking it better than I thought, but he has so much to learn," said Sarah.

"He is streaking nicely already," said a second softer voice. Priscilla. Watching this show!

"His balls look very nice. You did a fine job, Priscilla."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Would you be kind enough to tease them for me?"

"Gladly, ma'am."

A small hand on my newly-shaved testicles, weighing the sack in her palm. Gently massaging them. Pushing them and watching them sway to and fro between my well spread legs. Suddenly she grabbed them, squeezing them tightly, pulling them sharply down. I winced, then cried out again from the pain. This was more than "teasing," at least in my book. When she cruelly twisted my beleaguered sack while applying way too much pressure, I cried out even more loudly than I had the first time.

"He didn't listen very well about making noise, did he?" asked an obviously annoyed Sarah.


Learning Ch. 01



*This is a true story. Not about myself, but someone very close to me. The names are changed of course to protect the innocent/guilty*

*

In China in the 1990s there was very little by way of sex education. My parents would avoid the subject like the plague and although we did have one afternoon class on the subject at school it was just my luck that I was absent on that day. I remember that my elder cousin had explained the birds and bees to me when I was barely a teenager but the concept seemed so unlikely that I refused to accept her somewhat sketchy description. We didn't get on well at the best of times and I was certain that she was telling lies in order to make fun of me or get me into trouble. Either way, I put the thought to the back of my mind for several years. 

Since that day nearly all my education came from my best friend, Xiaona. She was basically as ignorant as I was, except that she had the benefit of that school class. However, we were both equally as voraciously curious about sex as and whenever either of us picked up some hint or iota of information it was immediately shared and discussed ad nauseam. Gradually we developed a rudimentary understanding of the basics of coitus and terms such as 'kou jiao' (blow job), 'bao ju hua' (anal), 'gao chao' (orgasm) and 'da fei ji' (masturbation) were naively pulled together into a semblance of order with a little success. There were still big gaps in our knowledge but at least now I could understand when some boy was making a rude joke without feeling too childish. 

Neither Xiaona nor myself had a boyfriend. This was not unusual in our peer group and few of my friends would lose their virginity before their mid-20s when they married. Frankly, despite my heightened interest I was completely unready for any kind of sexual experience with a boy. I had never even seen a picture of a naked man, the closest I had come was seeing my little cousin, aged 5, swimming nude at the beach one summer a few years earlier. With nothing else to inform me I had assumed that the proportions remained the same into adulthood. Xiaona had attempted to divest me of that misapprehension during our conversations but her second hand description comparing the male member to a 'dou jiao' (green bean) hardly seemed realistic. During dinner I would carefully examine the vegetable dish trying to mentally superimpose the image of this limp, stringy legume onto my imaginary notion of a man's body. An already difficult task was made harder by the significant differences in size and shape of the beans; eventually my perplexed expression brought the attentions of my mother who scolded me for playing with my food. I tried my hardest not to think about it when finally bringing the food to my lips but I couldn't stop my face from flushing at the possibility that she had read my innermost thoughts, however unlikely that seemed.

Chinese TV was as anodyne and asexual as any other part of my adolescence. The only television we had was in the living room where my parents would sit on an evening. Even if I had access to a TV in my bedroom there was nothing more explicit than a PG-rated romantic drama to fuel my imagination. I heard rumours around school that some boys had watched imported pornography smuggled in through shady contacts. I would try and imagine what sensuous delights the films would contain but inevitably my imagination would fail me at the crucial moments. My fantasies were barely any more explicit than the PG-rated dramas I was used to seeing, nothing below the waist and always with one foot on the floor. One of my favourite western movies, Gone With The Wind, was often the template for my daydreams. My heart would race as I pictured Rhett Butler sweeping me off my feet and into his manly arms. I imagined myself swooning under the passion of his kisses before he threw me down onto the opulent four-poster bed and kicked the bedroom door closed. At that point my involvement in the fantasy ended, what Rhett and my alter ego got up to in that bedroom remained a mystery to me. No matter how I tried I could never satisfactorily visualize the rest of the love scene and always ended up frustrated at my own lack of imagination. 

So it was with some enthusiasm and no little trepidation that I approached the offer of my first view into the secret world of pornography. Xiaona excitedly cornered me one afternoon at school between classes and feverishly whispered her news. 

'Your parents have a video player don't they?' My father was a fan of gadgets of all kinds and was one of the first in our building to own one of these still relatively rare machines. She surreptitiously pulled a video from her schoolbag and showed it to me. The sleeve was black with no proper cover like the videos my father brought from the store for us to view. Only a few characters on the spine of the video itself gave any information regarding the contents. I tried to read it but the characters didn't make any sense, I realised it must be Japanese. I wondered why Xiaona was so eager to show me. 

'What is this?' 

'Porn!' she nodded her head emphatically, her glasses bouncing on her nose. I nearly dropped the tape in shock. 

'Quick, put it away!' I hissed, shoving the offending object back into the depths of her satchel. My curiosity was immediately aroused of course, but I was more imminently concerned with the potential for humiliation and punishment if we were caught in school with such a thing. 

'Where did you get it from?' 

'Wei lent it to me. He said it was given to him by his cousin who's studying abroad.' 

'Wei...but...?' My protestations trailed off. I was scandalised at the thought that a boy from our year knew that I might have a porn tape in my possession but the fact that it was Wei somewhat eased my conscience. He was not one of the wild reprobates of some of our classes; he had a reputation as a scholarly and well-mannered boy. I was surprised that he even had access to such material at all. Somehow I felt I could trust him not to reveal our secret to the other boys, the thought may have already occurred to Xiaona as she displayed the utmost confidence about handling it. 

'Is your mother working late today?' This was often the case. My mother was a teacher at a local university and frequently attended meetings until well after 10pm. My father was a businessman whose irregular hours of work rarely ended until the small hours. Xiaona quite often stopped in at our flat after school on her way back to the hutong her family lived in. I was glad of the company and she was happy for a few moments of privacy away from the much smaller home she shared with her parents, auntie and grandmother.

We rode the bus home together as usual that night but this journey was much quieter than normal. We both had only one thing on our minds that evening and it was hardly the topic of conversation one could continue on a crowded bus. I stared out of the window doing my best to keep my gaze from the bag resting on Xiaona's lap and the incriminating object within. I was plagued by the fear that a sudden jolt might spill the contents of her bag onto the floor of the bus. I had barely been able to concentrate on my lessons that afternoon, my mind kept drifting to the possible contents of the tape. Xiaona had been very vague on the actual substance other than that it was 'se qing', the term commonly used to describe any material harder than the softer erotic movies made in Hong Kong that I had heard about. Evidently she was as in the dark about it as I was. 

By the time we reached my flat I was almost worn out by the tension of the day. We both collapsed onto the sofa, Xiaona's bag casually discarded on the coffee table seemed to obliterate the rest of the room. We both just stared silently and motionlessly at the satchel for a minute or more. Xiaona broke the stillness first. 

'Let's make some food first. I'm hungry.' That 'first' hung heavily in the air and I made a point of ignoring its obvious consequence. In my mind we had still not completely made the decision to watch the tape, however I was aware that there was a desperate battle of wills going on in my subconscious and quite honestly I knew that my conscience was going to be on the losing side. We both busied ourselves in the kitchen, hurriedly heating up a few dishes from the leftovers my mother had prepared earlier before heading back to the sofa laden with snacks.

Xiaona already had the tape out of its sleeve before I had even opened my carton of chrysanthemum tea. 

'Well...shall I put it in?' 

'If you want.' My voice croaked. My heart was practically lurching out of my chest so hard was it beating. Xiaona seemed far less disturbed, appearing impatient more than anything else. Perhaps it was because this was my house that she was able to feel so comfortable about this. If we were caught she would not have to bear the humiliation of exposure on a daily basis for the rest of her life. I knew that the chances of this were very slim however. I knew we would have at least a couple of hours free time before either of my parents came back. Plus, in the unlikely event of one of them returning prematurely we would be able to hear the noise of the elevator at the end of the corridor as an early warning. She smiled at me and knelt to insert the little black cartridge whilst fiddling with the TV remote. 

The TV hummed into life and Xiaona took her place on the sofa beside me. We giggled and clutched our boxes of Pocky, I listened intently one last time for the squeaking of the lift before allowing myself to relax slightly. I felt a warm tingling between my legs as the anticipation neared its climax. 

There was no preamble to the film, no adverts or suchlike. The screen burst into life with an image of a young Japanese girl sitting on a bed. She was undeniably very pretty and though she appeared to be no older than either of us I had the feeling that she was far more mature than I. She was dressed in a schoolgirl's uniform but her actions were anything but childlike. As was her body. 

'Aya! How big! Those cant be real,' was Xiaona's reaction as the camera closed in on the girl fondling her breasts through the material of the uniform. Neither of us had a chest to speak of and although I was familiar with the notion of western women being bustier than their Chinese counterparts it was the first time I had seen another Asian girl with a comparable cleavage. I shuffled into a more comfortable position, my legs tucked underneath me, my feet pressed against Xiaona's side. 

Presently a man appeared. He didn't look much like Rhett Butler. He was kind of old looking and a bit bald, he was dressed like an ordinary guy in the street. He roughly removed the girl's clothing. She didn't seem to be enjoying herself. She seemed scared. When she was completely nude he groped her breasts greedily with his large sweaty hands. He spun her over on the bed and forced her to raise her behind to open view. The camera zoomed in on her sex but the image was all blurry. At first I thought it was out of focus but then I realised it was censored. The man stretched her pixelated vagina obscenely wide and worked his fingers inside her. Although I continued watching the screen I found myself bitterly disappointed. Where was the romance? Where was the passion? My early sense of arousal was quickly ebbing away. I gradually began to feel as if I had made a mistake in watching it at all. For every anatomical lesson I was learning from the film there was something else personal and intimate that was falling into dust. By the time the man's pixelated penis had been ramming into the girl for a couple of minutes I actually started to feel bored. 

I looked over at Xiaona. She stared glum faced at the screen. She seemed to share my opinion of the movie. 

'Is the whole tape like this?' 

Xiaona gave a heavy sigh. 'Shall I fast-forward a bit?' I didn't answer. I got up and went to the bathroom. When I returned the TV was off and Xiaona was putting the tape back in her bag. I suddenly felt very tired. I went into the bedroom and threw myself down on the bed. Xiaona followed and slumped down alongside me. The disillusionment was palpable. Whenever I closed my eyes I could see that ugly guy's face contorted in a pig-like snarl. Xiaona eventually spoke, mouthing the same thoughts as mine. 

'Do you think that's what boys like to watch?'

'I guess it must be. At least I guess it's what Wei likes to watch.' 

'Eeeew. Do you think he...you know...while he's watching that?' We both cracked up into a fit of giggles at the mental image. 

'What are you going to say to him when you give him the tape back?' 

'Hmm, maybe I won't say anything. I'll just slip it back into his bag when he's not looking. Or post it to him anonymously.'

I giggled. 'What if his parent's open it?' 

'Then he'll have some explaining to do.' Xiaona nodded very sagely and I burst into laughter once more. My eyelids felt so heavy. I felt myself drifting off to sleep. Xiaona was used to my frequent bouts of somnolence but this time she seemed equally as exhausted as I. 

'I think I'm going to take a nap.' I crawled under the duvet fully clothed and slipped quietly into a fitful slumber. 

I dreamed that I was being chased by a bald naked man through the school corridors. I ran from room to room pleading for help from the other students but they merely laughed at me and clapped in encouragement for my pursuer. They seemed completely unaware of the danger I was in. Even Xiaona seemed unconcerned by my impending rape. I tried to get her to call the police but she just looked at me dumbly, confused by my request. The delay allowed the man to catch up with me. His body weight pushed me face down against a desk and I was trapped. I felt his hands roughly push up my skirt and reach underneath about to tear down my underwear. 

When I awoke I was disorientated. The room was dark, I had no idea what time it was. I quickly realised that Xiaona was no longer sleeping next to me. I assumed that she must have woken early and taken a bus home. I tottered out of bed and made my way down the corridor to the bathroom. As I passed the living room I heard a noise, immediately assuming my mother must have returned I made my way to the door to greet her. I stopped when I realised what the sound was. With a start I recognised the gasps and moans of the Japanese schoolgirl. My first thought was that Xiaona must have accidentally left the tape in the machine and my mother had innocently turned it on, but quickly I discounted the idea. I recalled seeing her replace it in her bag. So who was...?

I peeked round the doorway at the only possible person who could be watching the tape. Xiaona sat on the sofa, her eyes glued on the screen. One hand held the remote control, intermittently pausing and rewinding, the other was buried under her skirt moving rapidly with a feverish intensity that suggested she might have been busy for some time already. I was frozen to the spot. I had never properly masturbated myself. Occasional explorations of my body whilst showering or undressing had raised unfamiliar emotions but I had never had the inclination to follow those to their conclusion. I had assumed that Xiaona felt similarly yet here was the living proof otherwise. My mind stagnated with shock. I thought about rushing back to the bedroom and pretending that I had seen nothing. I thought about continuing on to the bathroom and perhaps signalling that I was awake by flushing the toilet or banging a door. In the end as I stood there weighing my options events overtook me. 

Within a few seconds Xiaona was panting with pleasure. She squirmed on the sofa, arching her back as her hips lifted clear of the chair. Her thighs were spread wide and I could see her fingers frantically rubbing between her legs underneath the flimsy cotton of her panties. Her eyes remained tightly shut as her moans of ecstasy mingled with those of the girl on the screen. The scene lasted 20, perhaps 30 seconds at most. It was without doubt the most shocking but at the same time the most erotic thing I had ever witnessed. When at last she returned to earth, Xiaona's eyes flicked open and almost immediately met mine. I gawked. She looked panic-stricken as she desperately rearranged her clothing. I stumbled, almost falling over my own feet as I ran back to my room, mortified that I had been caught watching just as she was mortified to be caught doing what she was doing. 

I hid under the duvet hopelessly pretending I was asleep. The shame was so great I didn't even know how to begin dealing with this. I couldn't imagine how embarrassed Xiaona must be feeling. I waited to hear the slam of the front door. And waited... and waited. Eventually there came a gentle rap on my bedroom door. I pretended not to notice. The door creaked open. Gingerly I peered out from under the bedclothes. Xiaona stood in the doorway, tears flowing down her face. She looked utterly abject. 

'I'm sorry,' was all she could muster between sobs. My heart broke and I stretched out my arms to comfort her. She landed on the bed in a soggy heap of rumpled wet clothing. She nestled her head in my lap like a bedraggled stray cat and blubbed whilst I smoothed her hair away from her face. 

She started to explain how she couldn't help herself. How she had woken before me filled with thoughts of the tape. She had thought of Wei, and of his cousin, and all the other boys who had seen it and the desire to view it again overwhelmed her. She had only intended to watch for a moment but when she had plucked up the courage to actually put it on she became completely immersed in the scene. She knew it was wrong, especially here in my parent's house and she never meant to go that far but she also knew that this was the only place she could see it. I consoled her, told her not to be ashamed, told her that I understood what she was feeling. That was a white lie at the time, but I valued my friendship more than absolute honesty and it seemed to be what she needed to hear. 

After a while the weeping subsided and she regained some composure. She went to the bathroom to wash her face. I retrieved the tape from the video player and replaced it in Xiaona's bag. When she came back she seemed a little brighter. Now that the shock had abated my curiosity returned and I dearly wanted to ask her how 'it' had felt. I couldn't forget the image of her climax and yet I wasn't quite sure how to approach the subject. I determined to conduct my own research when I had some time to myself. In the end it was Xiaona who broached the subject. 

'I feel so sleepy.' She stretched on the bed. And so... soft. I think I've lost all my energy.' She stared up at the ceiling. 'You know that's the first time I've had one of those.'

'You mean a...'sex climax'?' the word seemed ridiculous as a description of what I'd witnessed. 

'Mmmm. I suppose that's what you call it.' 

'I've never had one either. It looked nice'

'Yes. Yes it is.' She pressed a pillow to her chest as she spoke. Her eyes stared into the distance. I assumed she was reliving that feeling of a few moments before.

'If you want I can leave that tape with you for a few days. I don't think he needs it back straight away.' She paused for a moment. 'I could come round again tomorrow night after school?' 

'No. Better not. My mother's not working late the rest of this week. I don't think it's safe.'

'Oh. Pity.' For a moment I thought she was going to ask me something else but she stopped herself. I didn't tell her that I didn't need the tape. The mental image of Xiaona on my parent's sofa was all the stimulation I required. We chatted on the bed, snacking and laughing together until my mother returned, whereupon Xiaona made her excuses and left. On her way out the door she paused to say she would ring me when she got in. Then out of my mother's earshot she whispered that she had something to tell me and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.



Learning Ch. 01



"No, ma'am, he didn't."

"A penis gag might help," said Sarah.

A penis gag????

"I'll get one, ma'am."

In seconds Priscilla was in front of me shoving a long rubbery penis-like device into my mouth, over my tongue. She quickly tied it around the back of my head. It was not long enough to force any gag reflexes in my throat, but I knew it would certainly hold back any further screams.

"Good girl. Let's see how well it works. You may tease him some more."

Priscilla moved behind me again and grasped my still aching balls. This time there was no preliminary gentleness. She grasped them as tightly as she could and seemed to take delight in watching my head shake back and forth and listen to the muffled cries over the penis gag. 

"Much better," said Sarah, "the noise was getting annoying."

"But he isn't taking well to the pain, ma'am," said Priscilla as she twisted the sack mercilessly.

"He will learn… in time. Try teasing his cock a bit."

Priscilla released her grasp on my testicles and quickly found my woefully flaccid cock. If her grip on my balls was painful, her locked hand around my manhood sent me through the roof in pain. She pulled it down so hard I felt like she was going to rip it from my body. Sweat gushed from my forehead. The penis gag drowned out my screams, leaving incoherent moans and unintelligible noises as the only sounds filling the room.

"Enough," Sarah finally said and Priscilla released her grip on my manhood. I never knew such relief in my life.

I heard Sarah move in front of me. I couldn't see her behind my blindfold, but her familiar perfume wafted to my nostrils. She moved her index finger to my chin and raised my head. "You are actually doing better than expected, Mr. Reynolds. There are always rewards for pain, but we are not done with your little initiation. I need to talk with you first."

I felt Sarah's hand behind my head, undoing the knot, then pulling the penis gag out. My mouth had never felt so dry. 

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Listen very carefully, Mr. Reynolds. You are free to get up and leave right now. No questions asked. But you will never see me again if you go. If you choose to stay, you will be invited back at times I choose for you. Sometimes the pain will be unbearable. At other times you will be teased to the point of ejaculation, but you may not come without my express permission. If you do, you shall be punished severely."

She pulled the blindfold over my eyes, letting it rest on my forehead. At first the light in the room blinded me, but as my eyes became accustomed to the light, I gazed upon her beautiful face. I had fallen in love with a woman like no other I had ever known. I was totally under her spell. I would endure anything just to be with her. 

"Do you wish to leave, Mr. Reynolds?"

"I hurt so much, Sarah. My ass, my balls, my cock…"

"It is nothing compared to what you can expect each time you return."

I wondered how I could take even more pain, but out of love I calmly said, "I accept your desires, ma'am."

She smiled. I had pleased her, obviously, and in my heart I was happy to have done so. I looked further down her body. She was kneeling on one leg, and in doing so offered me an inviting glimpse all the way up her short, black skirt. To my surprise, she was not wearing panties. And her pussy was totally shaved. Her vulva was puffy with a prominent clitoral hood. I thought I saw some moisture inside the delightful slit. 

She caught me staring at her goodies and, grasping my hair, pulled my head up sharply so I was now staring into her pretty blue eyes. "Did you enjoy the view you just had, Mr. Reynolds?"

"Yes, ma'am," I admitted.

"From this moment on, you will never gaze upon any part of my body, even my face, without permission. In my presence, you must always look down at the floor, head bowed, in respect of your Mistress."

I closed my eyes. "I understand."

"The penalty for looking at me is hardly worth the risk, Mr. Reynolds."

I nodded in agreement.

"Now you will pay for looking up my skirt. Shame on you! Get me the cat, Priscilla."

I had no idea what a "cat" was in terms that Sarah would use, but I would soon find out. With my eyes still closed, I sensed her arising and moving behind me once more. Priscilla returned from the side of the room with the "cat" in her hand.

"Have him kiss it, Priscilla. You may open your eyes, Mr. Reynolds."

It was Priscilla's turn to kneel in front of me. In the palms of her hands she was holding a wicked looked, multi-stranded, black whip. Each of the leather tails of the whip was about a foot long and perhaps a quarter inch thick. The handle was made of braided leather. I knew this mean looking sucker would hurt like hell. She held the strands under my lips and I kissed the strands that would soon be the cause of pain. She arose and handed the cat to Sarah.

"Why are you getting whipped, Mr. Reynolds? 

"Because… because I looked up your skirt, Mistress."

I thought I heard a faint "whoosh" in the air before the loud crack of the 12 leather strands met my naked ass. Without the penis gag to hold it back, my scream echoed throughout the room. In time Sarah would teach me to accept a whipping without screaming, but this time I think she wanted the audio affects.

"Are you ever going to look at me, any part of me, without permission?"

"No, ma'am," I replied behind my still burning ass.

The whip swished again, with an even louder crack, snapping my head back. I cried out. Hardly without pause, she gave me another one. And yet another. I sucked in my breath and let out with a horrendous scream. My backside was on fire from the three quickly delivered strokes. My breaths were now short gasps. My whole body wracked against the cuffs and chains that held my arms and legs.

"That was merely a surface scratch, Mr. Reynolds. If you ever disobey a rule again, you can forget about sitting down normally for a week. Do you understand?"

I took a deep breath before I could answer. "Yes, Mistress."

"Let him loose, Priscilla."

Priscilla undid each of the cuffs and the strap over my waist, then helped me arise from the sawhorse. My whole body ached from its awkward position. I stood on rubbery legs until Sarah told me to turn and kneel in front of her. Wisely, I kept my head lowered, staring at the carpet, as I knelt submissively in front of her.

"Part of your training, Mr. Reynolds, is to show an appreciation of women. All women. Not just me, though you will come to love me more than anyone you have ever known. To appreciate a woman, you must know what it is like to be one. When I was in college, I rape, anally, by a professor I thought I could trust. The shame and the pain was unbearable. You will come to know how I felt that day."

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Every woman endures a monthly cycle, from puberty to her forties. It is not pleasant, at all, but it is part of life. I can't even begin to help you understand its unpleasantness, but I can help you gain a little appreciation for it. Turn around and get on your hands and knees."

I had no idea what she was planning to do, but I knew enough not to hesitate following any of her commands. I knelt, head lowered, eyes closed, my naked ass and newly shaved balls only a foot or so from her head. 

"Get me a tampon, Priscilla."

A tampon???!!! All of a sudden I realized what was in store for me.

Priscilla left and returned in seconds, handing the white cloth cylinder with its familiar string to Sarah.

"Open him for me."

I felt Priscilla straddle my hips with her legs and pry my ass cheeks apart with fingers from each hand, revealing my anus to the both of these women. I had never felt so exposed in my life.

"Women have to put this damn thing inside them so many times in their lives. It is never pleasant, Mr. Reynolds, as you shall learn. And you will never know all the other discomforts associated with it. Actually, I prefer a pad, and I will even allow you to change it for me when the time comes. But the tampon will give you a better feel for a woman's plight."

"I am having my period now, ma'am," said Priscilla.

"And do you need changing?"

"I believe so."

"Good. A little practice never hurts. But first, let's feminize him a bit." I felt the somewhat hard cloth cylinder touch the center of my anus. I braced myself. "Stretch him wider, Priscilla, the poor baby is still a virgin even to this small a thing."

I felt my anus being opened wide as Sarah began moving the tampon into me. There was no pain involved, but the humiliation was unbelievable. Slowly but surely several inches of the tube was fully ensconced. Priscilla closed my anus around the string that hung outside my ass. Sarah tugged lightly on the string to add to my embarrassment.

"Do you feel that inside you, Mr. Reynolds?"

"Yes, ma'am," I softly replied.

"You may take it out tomorrow morning. But not before. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now you can bestow a favor on Priscilla. Go get a pad, dear."

Priscilla left the room and returned moments later with a white feminine pad in hand. I couldn't believe what I was about to be expected to do.

"Kneel in front of her, Mr. Reynolds. You may open your eyes so you can see what you are doing." I knelt in front of the young maid, my heart racing. "Raise your skirt, Priscilla."

Right in front of my face, Priscilla blithely lifted her black skirt all the way to her waist, revealing a pair of pretty white shiny rayon panties. The bulge in the panty crotch was obvious. 

"Lower her panties, Mr. Reynolds."

I slowly lowered the dainty undies to her thighs. Priscilla's pubic hair was pure black. The triangular curls were thick. I felt a familiar stirring in my loins as I looked at the forest in front of my eyes. Between her slightly spread legs was a thick white pad, held in place with a tiny harness around her lower abdomen. I had never seen a woman's most private time of the month.

"Remove the old pad and replace it with a new one."

Somewhat daintily, my face flushed with embarrassment, I lowered the thin straps of the harness that held the pad in place. The pad came down with the harness. I was somewhat surprised that the pad was only slightly coated in red. It must have been near the end of her cycle. Nervously, I reached between Priscilla's legs and pulled the pad out. She handed me the fresh pad and I placed it in the center of its holder. Before raising the harness, I got a good look of the thick growth of black hairs between her legs.

I started to raise the panties, but Sarah interrupted me. "Kiss the pad first, Mr. Reynolds. To show your appreciation of womanhood." I leaned forward and gently kissed the pad, my nose grazing against the delightful pubic curls. Priscilla put her hand on my head, holding it in place, and opened her legs slightly, in obvious invitation for me to kiss the pad some more. I delved further, kissing the pad deeper. Surprisingly, her womanly smell was musky, but not offensive. 

"Very good, Mr. Reynolds. Let's get her back to normal."

I pulled the panties back up after getting one last look at Priscilla's pretty pussy. She lowered her skirt and I dutifully lowered my eyes, still kneeling in front of her.

"He will make a wonderful student," said Sarah.

"I do believe so, ma'am."

"He deserves a reward."

"He has had a difficult night, ma'am."

"Turn around, Mr. Reynolds." I turned on my knees facing Sarah, head still lowered. "Get me a chair, Priscilla."

Priscilla pulled a leather armchair from the side of the room and moved it behind Sarah. Sarah sat in it, facing me. 

"You may look at me, Mr. Reynolds." I opened my eyes. Sarah was right in front of me, seated, her gorgeous legs tightly closed. I felt the presence of the tampon in my ass, but I was slowly getting accustomed to the odd feeling. "Women have other needs," she continued. "One of your duties is to attend to those needs whenever I desire."

"Yes, Mistress." I was beginning to really like calling her "Mistress."

"You enjoyed looking up my skirt earlier?"

"Yes, ma'am," I readily admitted.

"And what you saw there pleased you?"

"Very much so, ma'am."

"If you were to see it again, would you have a desire to give pleasure to it?"

She was teasing me mercilessly, but just the thought of being asked to pleasure her hairless cunny was suddenly driving me wild. "I would indeed, ma'am," I replied, trying to hide my obvious desires.

She opened her legs every so slightly and leaned forward. "If you don't make me come, Mr. Reynolds, I will beat your ass raw." I needed no incentive. If she were to allow me a few moments between her legs I would spend it wisely. She opened her legs just wide enough to afford me a view of the creamy lips of her pussy. My heart was beating wildly. My Mistress was showing me her treasures.

Suddenly she pulled her skirt up and opened her legs as wide as she could, the backs of her knees over the arms of the chair. Her slit was opened enough to reveal a good deal of pink, very moist tissue. The sight before me was perhaps the ninth wonder of the world. Her cunt was certainly out of this world.

"Go for it, Mr. Reynolds."

I didn't care that Priscilla was behind me, watching. I leaned forward, between the wide- spread legs, and began kissing the puffy cuntal lips. Sarah moaned at the first touch of my lips to her pussy. Her womanly smell wafted through my nostrils. Using several fingers from each hand, I boldly pried the lips apart. The slit was filled with clear and copious moisture. It was mine for the taking. Using the flat of my tongue, I licked her from her vagina to her clit, gathering as much moisture as I could. Her taste was exquisite. She moaned again, this time more loudly. 

Using my thumbs, I opened her clitoral hood, exposing the tiny nubbin. When I touched it lightly with just the tip of my tongue, Sarah raised her hips and shoved her pussy into my mouth. I circled the clit with my tongue over and over, driven by her continuous cries of pleasure. I sucked it into my mouth and flicked my tongue back and forth over it in maddening delight. Satisfied that I had let her feel my pleasure on her clit, I lowered my head and drove my tongue straight into her pussy, as deeply as I could. She was a wet as a lake and I enjoyed every moment. My cheeks were becoming wet already from her womanly spendings. There was no holding back. I fucked her with my tongue, sometimes slowly, sometimes so rapidly my tongue became tired. She bucked her hips wildly as she tried to push my tongue further into her. When her breathing became labored, I thought she was close coming. I was right—she screamed in ecstasy for a few wonderful moments before she slowly came down. 

"He needs a reward, Priscilla," she finally said after she came back to the real world.

"And that would be, ma'am?" asked the maid.

"I want to take his virginity. Prepare him…" 



Learning Ch. 02



"Prepare him." What in heaven's name did she mean by that?

"Come with me," ordered Priscilla. 

Naked as a jaybird, I followed her down a hallway to a gigantic, ornate bathroom with white tiles, a marble tub, brass faucets, and unbelievably bright lighting. The bathroom was nearly as big as my poor little bedroom at home. 

I knew Priscilla had sensed my nervousness, but she was enjoying her little part in this scene far too much to let me off the hook. "Please stand next to the bathtub while I get things ready." 

She had just as stern a voice as Sarah, but at least she was kind enough to say "please," something Sarah had yet to say when commanding me to take an action. I stood next to the tub, my hands in front of private area, wondering why this room had been chosen for my "preparation."

Priscilla looked at me briefly. "Mr. Reynolds, I am sure Mistress will ask me about your behavior with me. I know she would be most disappointed to hear that you were covering your genitalia with your hands. Mistress expects you to keep yourself totally exposed while you are here in this house."

I moved my hands to my side and dutifully stood at attention while I watched the maid move to a cabinet beneath the sink. She bent over, her black skirt riding well up her bare, well-shaped, lightly tanned legs. She fumbled about the cabinet for a few seconds. When she straightened up she was holding an ominous-looking red enema bag with a long white hose. The smirk on her pretty face was obvious as she looked at the startled look on my face.

I knew immediately what was in store for me and my heart started beating a mile a minute. My face had never felt so flushed. I felt dumbstruck. Helpless. Bewildered.

"I know you would want to be totally clean for Mistress, especially back there," she said as she stole a glance at my ass, "and especially the first time she deflowers you."

I swallowed hard. "You want me to give myself an enema?" I asked incredulously.

She smiled broadly, her pretty white teeth glistening in the bright light. "Oh, no, Mr. Reynolds. I will be conducting this entire procedure. It's one of the services Mistress asks me to perform. Please don't feel so nervous, I've done this many times and if you cooperate fully we shall be out of here in no time and I'll be happy to take you to the deflowering room. I am sure you wish to please your Mistress, don't you?"

"I… I… Yes, of course," I stated quite honestly. Even at this early point in our relationship, there was no one in the world I wanted to please more. I was feeling more and more like a fly being drawn inexorably into a web, yet there was something inside me that was making me do whatever was necessary to please Sarah. In my heart of hearts, knowing that I would not want to displease her in any way was already becoming ingrained in my psyche. This feeling extended, of course, to Priscilla, her faithful servant who, in my judgment, spoke for Mistress Sarah.

"Good. Then when I am done preparing the enema solution, you shall get on your hands and knees, your head facing the tub. For now, you may watch and learn."

Priscilla placed the red bag on a table next to the sink, letting the hose hang down, its white plastic nozzle just inches from the tile. She reached back into the cabinet and retrieved a container of Epson Salt. 

"The Epson Salt has a tendency to increase cramping, but, when combined with soap, helps to really clean the bowels," she said with an almost clinical voice. "The procedure is done twice, once with the soap and Epson solution, and once with clear warm water. When we are done, you shall be perfectly clean for Mistress."

I watched in almost total disbelief as Pricilla filled the sink with warm water, added about a tablespoon of the salt to it, and then lathered a bar of ivory soap in her hands, pausing from time to time to rinse her hands in the water which soon clouded from the mixed solution. She finally lowered the bag into the water and filled it. She completed all of her tasks with total efficiency and I got the distinct impression she had done this many times.

When she finished filling the bag, she turned her face toward me, surveying the length of my naked body, with my newly-shaved pubic and testicle areas on display. I looked away out of nervousness. She seemed to relish my humiliation.

"Kneel," she commanded.

I turned quickly and moved my hands and knees to the cold tile floor, presenting my naked backside to the maid who was about to cause me much embarrassment. 

"Lean forward, on your forearms, so your ass is better presented."

I suddenly realized that the string from the Tampon Sarah had inserted into my nether region was hanging downward between my slightly opened legs, lightly touching my hairless sac. Priscilla noticed it, too, and, with a few slight tugs, pulled it out me. "We can replace this later," she said. "It would just get in the way now."

I shall not go into all of the lurid details of the two enemas Priscilla administered that fateful evening, but suffice it to say the humiliation was like nothing I had even known. When she pried my ass cheeks part and lubricated my soon to be de-virginized anus with some cold gel and gently eased the plastic nozzle into me, I felt like crawling inside the tiles and disappearing from the face of the earth. I cramped terribly from the first soapy solution. At least Priscilla was kind enough to leave the room while I relieved myself. I tolerated the second, plain warm-water enema much better physically, but the mental aspect left my mind reeling. Again, thankfully, she left me alone to expel the water from my bowels.

When she returned I was standing next to tub, hands dutifully at my sides, my face as red as a beet. She smiled. "We are almost done, Mr. Reynolds. You have done well." I considered thanking her for the compliment, but thought the better of it. There was little of which to be proud, if the truth be known. "You may assume the same position. I need to complete the lubrication process for your deflowering."

I knelt again, my ass raised up and well proffered. Priscilla knelt behind me, spread my cheeks once more, and stared for what I felt was an inordinately long time at the view of my anus before her. I could almost feel her eyes on my most private area. Then she applied a copious amount of the now familiar cold gel to my asshole. Suddenly, without warning, she stealthily slid her index finger through the gel into my anus and wiggled it against the soft walls of my rectum. I didn't groan until she introduced a second finger. I was glad she decided to stop at two.

"Easy," she said in a whisper-soft voice, "it is best not to fight it. Just relax and let it happen. You will be much better prepared for when Mistress takes you. You will be much happier that we are doing this now."

I relaxed as best as I could, but with two fingers busily toying with my rectal orifice, relaxation was the last thing on my mind. She applied more gel on her exploring fingers, adding the final amount of lubrication that would ease the path for Sarah to have her way with me. Seconds turned into minutes as she delved into me, moving her fingers back and forth with varying speeds. She seemed to enjoy her endeavors completely. When she was done, she helped me rise to a standing position and, quite surprisingly, took my hand in hers as she led me to my fate.

On the way down the hall to the "Deflowering Room," Priscilla gleefully told me that Mistress seldom used her sexual prowess in this way during the first session, that apparently I was considered "special" and that I should be honored. I didn't know how to respond to her comment, so I remained nervously quiet as she opened the door to a new room I had not yet seen. The room contained only one piece of furniture—a red velvet- covered hassock, perhaps two feet high, with a bright spotlight shining directly upon it. I was about to become the center of attention.

Holding the door open for me, Priscilla said, "You are to bend over the cushion with your belly over the top of it." I walked slowly to the hassock and bent over it. The velvet was smooth and warm beneath my body. "Bring the sides of your knees to the outside of the legs and grip the front legs with your hands."

Once assumed, the position left my backside totally open and vulnerable. "You are expected to remain completely quiet unless Mistress asks for you to speak. The more relaxed you feel, the easier it will be for you."

Such motherly advice…

Priscilla left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Suddenly I was there, naked and alone and completely exposed, awaiting my fate. Minutes went by. The torment of waiting was just as scary as knowing that at some point in the not too distant future Sarah would do something to me I had never even dreamed would happen. My mind was buzzing with thoughts of how totally scared I felt.

Finally, I heard the door open. I dared not look. I heard light footsteps to my side. Soon someone was standing directly in front of me. "You may look up, Mr. Reynolds."

I lifted my head. To my amazement, Sarah was standing only a few feet from me, totally naked except for an ominous-looking black harness, from the middle of which was a long, pink-colored cock, perhaps eight inches in length, that jutted out almost perpendicular to her body. Seeing her breasts for the first time started my heart beating wildly. They were gorgeous, not very large, but almost conical in shape with pink nipples that were hard as rocks, surrounded by equally pink, silver-dollar sized areola. Her breasts were exquisite.

She smiled. "I see Priscilla has prepared you."

I nodded, afraid to speak.

"You have permission to speak, Mr. Reynolds. This is a special occasion indeed and we want you to feel special."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Some females like to totally feminize their slaves. I prefer more subtle approaches, shall we say, just enough of a feminization to give you an idea of what a woman goes through in life. Ours is not an easy lot. We are always the victims of sexual assault, though you would have been a 'victim' had you not volunteered to give your virginity to me as a gift. We have our periods. Our moods. Most men treat us like shit. You will learn to treat all women with such complete respect that they will understand immediately how much you desire their happiness. Your mission in life, from this point forward, is make me, or Priscilla, or any other woman I desire to bring here, as happy as possible. Sometimes our happiness will be found in punishing you, sometimes quite severely. Through it all, you shall remember, above all else, that I am your Mistress. You are my slave. As long as you remember that, all will be fine. Do you understand?"

Seeing her naked for the first time only built the fires in my loins and the engendered more love in my heart for her. She was woman personified, everything a man could hope for. I don't know why, but I would do anything Sarah, Mistress Sarah, wanted. Anything at all. 

"Yes, Ma'am, I understand."

Sarah grasped the pink pseudo-cock in the palm of her hand and held it tightly, pointing it skyward. "This will be your pleasure this evening, Mr. Reynolds. This will be your pleasure on many evenings, in fact. Tonight you will know in a small but telling way how a woman feels when she is being fucked. Do you like the idea of learning feminine ways?"

"If you desire, Mistress."

"Good. Before your next visit, I want you to go the mall and pick out seven pairs of women's panties. One for each day of the week. Whites and pastels are just fine. Silks and rayons are preferable. Wearing panties with a modicum of lace, Mr. Reynolds, will only gain my utmost admiration, so choose them wisely. And you will wear a pair of pretty new panties every day. When you are summoned to visit me, you will wear your favorite pair. Make me proud, Mr. Reynolds."

Blushing profusely, I said, "Yes, ma'am. As you wish."

"Good. Now, I do trust that Priscilla prepared you properly for me."

"I gave him two enemas and oiled the entrance well, Mistress. He tolerated everything surprisingly well."

I had no idea Priscilla was in the room to watch all this. It only served to enhance my humiliation. 

"Then I believe we shall proceed. Are you ready, Mr. Reynolds?"

I gulped. "Yes, ma'am."

Mistress Sarah moved behind me and I lowered my head, waiting stoically to lose my virginity. "Put some K-Y on my 'cock' Priscilla. This very first time we shall be exceedingly kind to him."

I heard movement behind me and could only imagine in my mind Priscilla's fingers around the hard, pink cock, coating it for what I knew was about to be an entry into my proffered ass. My heart was beating so hard I thought it would leap right out of my chest. The humiliation I felt was even greater knowing that Priscilla was right there, watching everything, about to witness something I could never have imagined would happen, not even in my wildest dreams.

"Open him up," said Sarah.

Priscilla moved her body over my hips and straddled me, facing Sarah. I felt a pair of soft hands on my buttocks, spreading them wide apart. I could only imagine the sight I was presenting to both of these women. Suddenly I felt something cold and wet and hard pressing against my anus. I closed my eyes.

"He has such a nice, fuckable ass, don't you think?" asked Sarah.

"Indeed. Made to be fucked, ma'am."

The head of the pseudo-cock pressed harder, moving into me slowly but inexorably, breaking through the sphincter with much more ease than I would have believed. I relaxed as much as I could, just as Priscilla had suggested. I felt it going deeper and deeper, expanding the soft walls of my rectum. I grunted out loud when Sarah gave the cock a good shove. Before I knew it, I felt her thighs against my ass and realized she was in to the hilt. 

A virgin no more. Somehow I had the distinct feeling that, in time, I could learn to like what she was doing to me. When Sarah started to move her cock in and out, it actually felt good. When she withdrew it almost all the way out and rammed it back in, I lurched forward. It was only slightly painful. In fact, on a plus and minus scale, it was far more pleasurable than painful. Slowly but surely I was getting used to being taken by my Mistress.

My breathing become more ragged, more labored. She was now pumping me harder and my cock was becoming erect between my legs. Sarah sensed my enjoyment. "Don't even think about coming, Mr. Reynolds! If you come without permission, I will beat your ass raw!"

The whole deflowering lasted at least ten minutes, and when she pulled out of me, I felt literally limp, washed out. This was one of those moments in life where I felt like time had frozen. I felt a bead of sweat fall from my forehead to the floor. Priscilla unstraddled herself from my hips and moved behind me. It felt like my asshole was stretched to the limit, but swarms of pleasure ran all the way up my spine and shot straight into heretofore unknown nerves in my brain.

"Arise, Mr. Reynolds."

I stood up, now embarrassed by the fact that my cock was standing as straight as I was, a fact not unnoticed by Mistress Sarah. 

"I think we have found a wonderful new play-toy, Priscilla. The young man didn't protest at all. In fact, he obviously enjoyed being deflowered far too much. Look how he embarrasses us with his erection. Shameful! Get me a cock whip."

A cock whip????!!!! 

In seconds Priscilla was at Sarah's side, handing her a short, multi-stranded, leather whip. Sarah moved in front of me, holding the wooden handle of the whip in her right hand, its tentacles hanging down. She was now totally naked, having removed the harness from her hips. Her pussy lips were thick and puffy. Peaking out very prominently was her engorged clit that I had licked a few moments ago. I was careful not to let her see me sneaking peeks at her wonderful nakedness.

"Play with your cock and make it even harder, Mr. Reynolds!'

I gulped. I looked down at my almost completely erect member and took it my right hand. I pumped it several times and closed my eyes, thinking over and over how beautiful my Mistress looked without clothes. I became rock-hard in seconds, but Sarah let me continue to play with myself while she watched in enjoyment.

"Enough! Hold your cock at the base and present it for the whip."

With my heart beating a mile a minute, I pointed my member right at her, grasping my hairless balls and encircling the base of the cock with my thumb and index finger. I closed my eyes.

There was a faint sound of leather meeting skin before, almost without warning, a flash of total pain seared deeply into my mind. I had never known a pain so intense. It was blinding, horribly intense. It gripped me totally. I screamed out, loudly, the sound reverberating around the room. My knees immediately felt rubbery and I felt my legs almost give out from under me. How I remained standing, still holding my aching cock, I'll never know. In an instant, my once hard member was now totally limp. I was sweating profusely, breathing rapidly. Flashes of lightning crackled in my brain. I had never known such pain.

"That will be a lesson to you, Mr. Reynolds. You are not here for your pleasure, you are here for mine. And Priscilla's. And anyone else I desire for you to give pleasure to. Because of your insolence, I am dismissing you for the evening. Priscilla will re-insert a Tampon. You may not remove the Tampon until tomorrow morning. You must understand, during your future visits, that erections are a luxury that will be awarded only with permission. The next time you get a disgusting hard-on like that, there will be quite a few more strokes from my little cock-stinger. I gave you only one tonight to teach you a lesson. Ten strokes, minimum, next time. Maybe even with a nastier whip. No mercy. No forgiveness. Do you understand?"

My poor cock was still stinging with unbelievable pain. Words came with much difficulty over that pain. "Yes, ma'am," I finally blurted.

"Get a Tampon, Priscilla."

I continued to stand there, holding my aching, flaccid member in my hand, head down, eyes closed. Priscilla returned in a few minutes and moved behind me. Once again I felt her opening me backside. The way in for the thin Tampon was still greased, and it entered me easily. She used her index finger to push it deeply into me. She held the finger there for an agonizingly long time, as if she relished the idea of using her finger there.

"Do you have any questions, Mr. Reynolds?"

"I… I wonder when I may see you again, Mistress."

"I will call you. You are not to call me. Do you remember what else you are going to do before you are invited here again?"

"Yes, ma'am. I am going to buy seven pairs of women's panties and wear a new pair every day, all day long."

I could almost feel Sarah's smile. "Very good. When you wear them here, they are called 'punishment panties,' but they are worn for your pleasure the rest of the time. You may get dressed now. Priscilla will bring you your clothes."

Sarah turned and left. Priscilla followed her. The pain in my cock was slowly subsiding, but the memory of sting her whip had caused was indelibly etched in my mind forever. When Priscilla returned, she was holding the clothes I had worn this evening. I immediately noticed she had carried everything except my underpants. She smiled. "Mistress desires that you get used to women's panties immediately."

I was even more startled when I watched her pull her skirt up to her hips, revealing a pair of pure silky-white panties with a thin band of embroidered lace around the top. In one smooth motion, she lowered the panties down her legs, exposing for a wonderfully fleeting instant a beautiful patch of jet-black pubic hair before the law of gravity brought the skirt back down.




Learning Ch. 02



"Lift your leg, Mr. Reynolds."

Dutifully I lifted my left leg and Priscilla pulled one side of the panties over my ankle. I lifted my other leg and she eased the material over my right foot. As soon as I had both feet on the ground, she pulled the undies upward. They were way too small for me, but she managed to get them over my hips and encase my still numbed cock. She looked down at the odd bulge in the white panties and smiled.

"They look very nice on you. How do they feel?"

I blushed a deep red. They did, in fact, feel nice and soft against my hairless balls. "Fine," I replied.

To my surprise she ran the palm of her hand over the bulge of the panties, soothing the poor manhood beneath. Her touch was the most tender thing I had felt all night. She squeezed me just a little. "Does it still hurt?" she asked in a sincere voice.

"Yes, but not as bad as before."

"Soak it in a nice hot tub of water when you get home and you will feel one-hundred percent better. I couldn't help but notice that you have a very nice cock, and I am sure we will put it to good use when the need arises." She squeezed the bulge a bit harder, and I thought I felt the stirrings of a now forbidden erection.

"A man's cock has amazing resilience," she said with a smile as sweet as honey. "You have permission, Mr. Reynolds."

"Permission?"

"To get hard. I like to feel a man get an erection in my hand."

She began to lightly stroke the outside of the silky panties and, wonder of wonders, despite the numbing pain of just a few moments ago, I felt the familiar twinge of excitement begin. A few more delicious squeezes and I was half-hard. Priscilla lowered herself to her knees and pulled the front of the panties down, exposing my now thickening member.

"Very nice," she whispered. She leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the bulbous head. That was all I needed. He was pointing skyward in an instant. I looked down to see the top of her head, the short dark hair drawn back in thick strands. When she took me in her mouth and swirled her wonderfully wet tongue around me, I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. 

She drew her head back long enough to say, "I like it when a man comes in my mouth." Hardly had she finished the sentence when she engulphed me totally, sliding her thick, warm lips over me. She gave me the kind of blow-job I loved—totally wet and lovingly tender. My cock quickly became coated with her saliva. I watched her head bob back and forth, then closed my eyes and enjoyed the wonderful sensations. Before long I was seeing stars inside my mind. When I felt the final surge building in my loins, I grasped the back of her head with my hands and held it in place. She sensed what was about to happen and sucked voraciously for the last few seconds. When I came, deep in her throat, I spurted for what seemed like ten delicious minutes. My cock continued to spasm even after my spending subsided.

When she withdrew her mouth from my manhood, her lips were a wet mixture of saliva and come. It was one of the best blow-jobs of my life. No, it wasn't Sarah, but it was the next best thing, and somehow it made the whole evening worthwhile. She arose from her kneeling position and pulled the panties back over my now happy member.

"You may continue getting dressed," she said, stealing one more look at the bulge.

I dressed quickly and Priscilla led me to the door. "Thank you, Mr. Reynolds."

I smiled broadly. "Thank you, Priscilla. See you next time."

The door behind me closed upon a strange and wonderful evening. My trip home was a cacophony of weird memories of what had happened to me. I was totally aware of one thing—Sarah, and her maid, Priscilla, had given me a lifetime of knowledge in less than two hours. And, most of all, I realized how completely drawn into Sarah's wonderfully wicked web I had become. I would be at the mall the first thing the following morning, embarrassed beyond belief in picking out women's underthings ("It's part of a prank," I told the clerk, but somehow I don't think she believed me). 

I wore women's panties all week, a reminder of the past weekend's events and a harbinger of things to come…



Learning Ch. 03



Every time the phone rang during the week I prayed it would be Sarah. When it wasn't, my heart sunk a little further. Every waking moment was consumed by thoughts of her. I re-lived the precious time I had been with her over and over in my mind. Gladly I would hold my cock out again and let her whip it mercilessly. She could do anything she wanted to do to me. Anything at all.

By late Saturday afternoon I was beside myself. The phone rang just before 5:00 o'clock. It was Sarah! 

"Mr. Reynolds?"

"Yes. Sarah?"

"Mistress Sarah. You must never call me by my first name."

"I am sorry, Mistress."

"Eight o'clock tonight. Be prompt."

"Yes, ma'am."

I left early and waited in my car around the corner from her house so I would not be late. I knocked on the door not a second too late. Priscilla answered it. This time she was dressed in black slacks and a white, long-sleeved blouse. 

"Good evening, Mr. Reynolds." Her smile was contagious. 

"Good evening, Priscilla."

"Mistress is expecting you. She's in the study."

I followed Priscilla toward the study. Her slacks were tight against her deliciously round derriere. Thoughts of the wonderful blow-job she had given me to end the evening only a short week ago filled my mind. To my surprise, she did not follow me into the room. Instead, she closed the door behind me, leaving me alone with Mistress Sarah. Mistress was lounging on a leather sofa. Before lowering my head and eyes, I noticed she was wearing a bright red skirt and a white, turtle-neck sweater. Her legs were crossed.

"Strip down to your panties," she said. "Place your clothes neatly on the chair next to you."

No "hello." No greeting at all. Her voice was cold as steel. Quickly, I obeyed, taking off everything but a pair of white, silk women's panties. With a triangular band of lace shaped in a "V" in front. I had bought a large size, and they fit me perfectly. She made me stand in front for an agonizingly long time while she studied me.

"Turn around, slowly." Red-faced, I turned, presenting my backside. "Very good. They fit you quite nicely. They cling nicely to your ass." She leaned forward and ran the palm of her hand over the back of the panties. "Mmmmm. Nice and soft as well. Most men don't have a proper ass for panties, but I think you look quite becoming."

How wonderful... Women's panties "clinging" to my backside. "Nicely clinging," in fact. While it made me happy to please her, but I knew better than to respond. I would need her permission to speak. 

"Priscilla and I have some wonderful things planned for you tonight. We've had a week to think about them. Sometimes I think she thinks more wickedly than I do. I love her imagination! Turn and face me."

I turned, head still lowered. Mistress ran her hand over the front of the panties, fondling the bulge. I think she smiled, but I could not see her face. Her touch was gentle; it was all I could to prevent getting an erection that would have meant automatic punishment. She was teasing me now.

"You may look at me, Mr. Reynolds."

I opened my eyes. She had uncrossed her legs, but held them tightly together. She was leaning forward, elbows on her knees, her hands over her cheeks. Her face was even more beautiful than I remembered it. Her complexion was totally pure. Bright red lipstick. Thin mascara. I watched her eyes move to the front of the panties.

"Priscilla told me she blew you before you left last week. Did you enjoy it?"

I swallowed hard before answering. "Yes," I admitted.

"I punished her severely for doing it without permission. Priscilla, come in here!" Priscilla opened the door and entered, looking embarrassed. 

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Show Mr. Reynolds the penalty you paid for giving him pleasure last week. It may give him an idea of what is in store for him."

Priscilla's face turned a thousand shades of red and I watched in amazement as she unbuttoned the side of her slacks, eased the zipper down, turned her back to me, and pulled the slacks over her hips. She let them encircle her thighs. She was wearing light-pink panties with tiny blue flowers. The panties soon followed the slacks. Her otherwise gorgeous ass was streaked like a road-map, a bright red pattern of lines that gave only a hint of the pain she must have endured.

"Her last whipping was over an hour ago and she still shows the results. Show him more."

Priscilla stole a glance of disbelief in Mistress Sarah's direction before prying open the two halves of her buns and putting on display a pink device that was protruding from her asshole.

"It's a butt plug. Something you will soon get used to, but something she loathes. It's been in there all day. Every step she takes is a reminder to her that she did something wrong. Very wrong. It won't happen again, will it, Miss Priscilla?"

"No, ma'am."

"Fine. Pull up your slacks. We have work to do."

Priscilla pulled her panties and slacks back into place. She winced when she eased the slacks over her still painful backside. There was no doubt in my mind she had suffered mightily for her "indiscretion." 

"Take your panties off, Mr. Reynolds, and give them to Priscilla." 

In seconds I was naked as the day I was born, standing in front of two women. I handed the silky undies to Priscilla and she held them daintily.

"Put them in his mouth, Priscilla." Priscilla moved toward me. I didn't need to be told to open up for her. She stuffed them completely inside me and I closed my lips. "Panties always make a fine gag. I hate screams too early in the evening. Come here, Mr. Reynolds."

I moved toward my still seated Mistress, wondering what she had in store for me. I dared not look at her. Priscilla stepped back, giving Mistress Sarah more room. "Now it is your turn to pay for last Saturday evening, Mr. Reynolds. Neither of you had my permission to engage in such terrible behavior. You came without my permission. You spilled your seed right into the mouth of my maid. She paid an awful price for what she did; you shall pay tenfold."

I gulped. This was not going to be a fun evening at all.

Mistress Sarah stood up and grasped my cock tightly in her hand. "Come with me," she said, tugging on my member as she literally dragged me out the room. She was hurting me, but I followed as best as I could. Before long, we were in yet another room that I had not seen. "This, Mr. Reynolds, is the Punish Room. I take only those slaves who have incurred my wrath to this room. Priscilla enjoyed more than a few moments here this week and she will be sitting down pretty gingerly for the next few days. Tonight will seem more like weeks to you than her few hours in this room."

Mistress released my cock from her vice-like grip. It hung limply, without ceremony. The panties were drying my mouth out, but there was nothing I could do about it. 

"Get me a butt plug, Priscilla. Medium sized, at least for starters. Mr. Reynolds, bend over and grab your ankles." While I bent over into a very compromising position, Priscilla brought our Mistress the butt plug she had requested. I knew exactly where it was going. "Grease him!"

With my eyes closed, I couldn't see Priscilla, but she was soon behind me. I was getting used to her violating my asshole. She slid two gel-laden fingers into me as I grunted in pain. She worked them in and out, preparing the path for the butt plug. I couldn't imagine the butt plug would be any worse than the cock Mistress had shoved into me, but I couldn't have been more wrong. When Priscilla withdrew her glistening fingers, Mistress Sarah took her place and immediately began to press the device against my anus. The tapered plug went in easily at first, but as soon as it reached the wider part of the flange, the going got tougher. In fact, it was downright painful. Just the way Mistress wanted it. 

She was an expert in the use of butt plugs. She knew just when to hold it in place and keep the anus stretched to its limit. At first the pain was tolerable, but as she introduced it further into the nether opening, the greater the pain became. This time there were no soothing words, no comfort, no helping me work my way through it. It was grin and bare it time. My groans told her when to back off. I bit into the panties in my mouth to try to ease the pain. I was gripping my knees so tightly that my knuckles were turning white. At last, the flange worked its way through the sphincter and popped into my rectum. I grunted at the sharp pain that went all the way up my spine, but at least I had endured the first real pain of the evening. Little was I to know it was probably the easiest pain to endure that night.

"Stay right where you are, Mr. Reynolds. The penalty phase for your misbehavior has only just begun."

Mistress left me for a few minutes while I stoically held onto my knees, my ass poking out provocatively with the pink end of the butt plug sticking obscenely out of me. I couldn't imagine why she was having me stay in this position until I heard a faint swish of air behind me, followed within milliseconds by a loud crack of leather against flesh and a searing pain across my buttocks. I lurched forward, barely able to maintain my balance. 

"This is a little riding crop. It's just an introduction to our festivities tonight." I hear the whoosh of air again and felt the second stroke light a fire across my ass. It was followed so quickly by two additional strokes that I had no time to recover. "Let this be a lesson to you. You may never come in this house without my permission. Only mine. Priscilla had no authority to allow you release, especially in her mouth. You disgust me, Mr. Reynolds!"

THWACK!!!!!!!!!!!!

What followed, for the next five minutes, was one stroke after the other, sometimes two or three at a time. At times Mistress waited a moment, tapped the riding crop on my ass lightly, then wailed away. Biting into the panties no longer helped, but I did anyway to stop from crying like a baby. I lost count of the times she laid into me, but it was easily close to 30. Once or twice she took direct aim with the tip of the crop onto the protruding butt plug, and I saw blinding stars in my mind each time. 

When she finally finished my face dripped with sweat. My backside felt like it had been lit afire. She was an expert in wielding a crop and left no doubt she would show me no mercy tonight. And somehow I knew this was only the beginning.

"Straighten up!" I arose from my bent-over position as best I could, but it wasn't fast enough for Mistress. Again she drove the riding crop across my beleaguered ass, almost driving the panties out of my mouth. "You are not moving fast enough!"

Mistress moved in front me. "Hold your cock in the palm of your hand. Show me the thing you used to defile Priscilla."

I held my limp manhood in the palm of my left hand, praying it would not fall prey to another painful moment. My prayer would not be answered. The terrible whoosh again, this time followed by the leather tip of the riding crop striking directly on the cockhead. The pain was unbelievable. Unbearable. My whole body slumped to the group in a helpless heap. 

"Get up, you wimp!" This time I moved as fast as I could, but the pain in my cock never seemed to abate. "Are you sorry you defiled Priscilla?"

I tried to speak through the pain. "Yes, ma'am."

"Are you ever going to come again without my permission?"

"No, no. I promise I won't."

"Ask me to give you one more stroke on your wimpy cock!"

Omigod! These were the most difficult words I would ever say in my life. "Please, Mistress, give me one more stroke," I finally blurted.

"On what, slave?"

"On... on my penis, ma'am."

"Open your eyes. I want you to watch this one."

I opened my eyes but dared not look at the face of my Mistress. She was holding the long, thin riding crop straight up, in the middle of her body. Her nipples pressed into the fabric of her sweater. I dreamed of my lips around them. 

"Hold it out for me again!"

It was still stinging from the last blow, but I held it one more in the palm of my hand. I didn't know how I could take another stroke. I watched in terror as she drove the end of the whip downward. I knew there was no way I could brace myself for the pain. I winced. Suddenly the whip stopped, an inch or so from its target. She was teasing me now, making the eventual act that much more unbearable. 

She laughed at me. "Just trying to improve my aim, Mr. Reynolds. But I am glad I didn't follow through. You closed your eyes, didn't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," I admitted.

"And I told you to watch me, didn't I?"

I nodded affirmatively, punctuating it with a slight sigh.

"If you close your eyes, the penalty will be so severe you will wish you were never born. Look down at your poor example of a cock and accept what I have to offer you." I looked down at my manhood, still red and sore from the first blow. She brought the double-edged leather tip of the crop over my cock and rubbed it lightly. "This time, if you fall to the floor like a pathetic wimp, I will beat you so hard you will go into orbit."

Having to watch as well as endure the unbelievable pain that was about to come my way was agonizing. I was amazed at how much my cock had diminished in size. Fear has a way of doing that. I watched the terrible crop quickly descend. It snapped on my penis with a loud crack. Mercifully, the blow was not as hard as the first one, but it was still enough to buckle my knees and render me almost senseless. Reflexively, the panties flew out of my mouth and fell silently to the floor. I screamed as loudly as I was capable of. I bent over double, but I stayed my ground. 

"I bet it won't become hard now if Priscilla takes it in her mouth," said Mistress Sarah, looking down at the woefully limp appendage.

I didn't think it would ever harden again. 

"Put the panties back in his mouth, Priscilla. And let's use some duct tape over his lips so he doesn't have another 'accident.'"

Priscilla picked the panties up and I dutifully opened up for her. She stuffed the panties back in, then left and returned moments later with a roll of gray duct tape and a pair of scissors. She cut a six inch piece of tape from the roll and flattened it over my mouth. There was only one way for the panties to go now, and I wasn't about to swallow them.

"Okay, let's string him up. Come here, Mr. Reynolds."

I followed Mistress to the side of the room. There was a chrome bar with wrist cuffs hanging from a ceiling rope. I watched as Pricilla lowered the bar with a pulley while Mistress stood in front of me. When the bar had been lowered sufficiently, she commanded me to raise my arms over my head. Deftly she secured my wrists with each of the cuffs. Her mission complete, Priscilla turned the handle to the pulley one more, this time in the other direction, and I felt my arms being slowly raised higher and higher until they were stretched as far as they would go. 

Mistress Sarah admired her handiwork. "Mmmm. I have always liked to see a man hanging from the rafters. It gives me a feeling of total control. He looks so helpless, Priscilla."

"And so vulnerable, ma'am."

"He has a nice back, don't you think?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you think it would look better with some stripes? Perhaps for a little affect?"

"I do think backs always look better with stripes, ma'am. Especially a nice back like that!"

"And his ass. Stripes as well?"

"Of course. The pattern would be very effective, I think. Would you like me to get something for you that might create the pattern you are looking for?"

"Oh, Priscilla, my dear. You are always one step ahead of me. I think the single-tailed whip would be just perfect for the occasion."

"Ouch! That's the one you used on me last night. Stings like the dickens. And leaves such beautiful stripes. I'll fetch it, ma'am."

I couldn't believe the banter behind me. They were blithely talking about striping my back and buttocks in no different a tone than talking about what they had for dinner. And the tape over my mouth left me no choice but to listen. And wait...

Priscilla returned, I am sure holding the "single-tailed whip" that was about to cause me considerable pain, I was sure. I had no idea what a single-tailed whip was, but I needed only my imagination to understand that it was probably capable of misery, and I knew I was about to find out.

"Mr. Reynolds," said Mistress Sarah, "until this moment I have not discussed with you the use of a 'safe word.' Or, in your present circumstance, a gesture on your part that would indicate I am going too far in one of our little sessions. My slaves seldom, if ever, use the word or gesture, but since the whip I am about to use on you carries with it quite a bit more pain than you might be accustomed to, I feel it is necessary to inform you. If you did not have your poor mouth gagged so efficiently, I would instruct you that your safe-word is 'Mercy.' As an alternative, you may shake your head quickly in an up and down motion. That will tell me we have taken you over the edge and I will immediately cease or tone down what I am doing. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head in agreement. My heart was beating wildly. She hadn't offered me the use of safe-word when she nearly rattled my penis into eternity, so I wondered why she was doing so now. Nothing could be more painful than the tip of riding crop brought down hard on one's cock. At least I thought so. But, deep down in my heart of hearts, I vowed never to use the safe-word. Never, never, never. I wanted to make my Mistress proud of me. If I could take what she dished out so far and was still alive and kicking, I could handle most anything. And I lived to please her, to make her proud of me. 

I heard movement behind me. I closed my eyes and bit into the panties in my mouth once more. It was my only way of bracing myself. The whip made more of a whistle that a whoosh, and when it landed across my back with a stinging crack, I thought she had cut me in two. My whole body shuddered from the burning pain. I threw my head back and felt tears welling in my eyes.

"Mmmm. Stripe number one. I think five on the back and five on the buttocks will look just fine," said Mistress Sarah.

For the briefest of seconds, thoughts of shaking my head violently up and down, my "safe gesture," seemed like a viable alternative to the unbelievable pain. Nine more of these and I just might go bananas. But I couldn't break my vow this early in the game, so I held on for dear life. 

The next stroke was inches below the first, right in the center of my back. It shook the wrist cuffs and literally made me jump a foot or so off the floor. Stroke after stroke lit white-hot burning fires along the length of my back. When she reached my ass for the last five, I felt like my back was burning out of control. She spared my ass no mercy, using the whip expertly, never striping the same place. By the ninth and next to last stroke I was so exhausted I thought I would faint. She wielded the final blow extra hard, for good measure I am sure. It sent me through the roof. Tears poured freely from my eyes. 

"Beautiful!" said Priscilla.

"Indeed. He stripes very nicely. Perhaps because his skin is so pale," continued Mistress Sarah. "You have done very well, Mr. Reynolds. I am proud of you."

'I am proud of you.' Her words actually lifted my spirits. My Mistress, proud of me for enduring the pain. My mission in life, from this point forward, was to always make her proud of me. Unbelievable as it may seem, I think I was at such a point in our relationship, albeit as short as it was, that I felt it my duty to accept her pain, to desire her pain, knowing that in the end I would make her proud of me. And that was all I needed of her. I knew I was her little "toy." That didn't matter. What did matter was the bond that was growing between us. I could actually feel it. I think she could too. Much later I would learn more about the strange bond between Mistress and slave. I would learn to trust her implicitly. I would learn to endure the most severe pain. And I would do because I loved her deeply.




Learning Ch. 03



She let me down after releasing the wrist cuffs. My whole body felt like a limp rag. Mistress held me to keep me from falling. Her breasts, beneath the white sweater, dug into my chest. Her perfume was exquisite. Given the state of my cock, I was incapable of an erection, but that was probably a good thing. Erections without permission were grounds for punishment, and I had had enough punishment to last a lifetime. 

"Sooth his aching body, Priscilla."

"As you wish, ma'am." 

Priscilla led me into the same bathroom where she had given me the embarrassing enemas the previous week. She ran hot water into the tub and, when it was filled, helped me into it. I stepped over the edge of the tub gingerly, the butt plug in my ass making even slight movements difficult. At first the water had a stinging sensation on my striped back and buttocks, but soon it became totally relaxing. 

I looked over at Priscilla. To my complete astonishment, she was undoing the buttons of her blouse. She smiled at me. "I am going to join you, Mr. Reynolds." She pulled the blouse over her shoulders and let it glide down her arms. The pink bra with tiny blue flowers perfectly matched the panties I had seen earlier. She undid the button on the side of her slacks, eased the zipper down, and pushed the garment down her legs. The slacks encircled her feet. She stepped out of the circle. Apparently she had earlier kicked off her shoes. Her legs were bare.

She was beautiful indeed. The pretty bra showed a good deal of creamy-white cleavage. Looking straight into my eyes, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She smiled sexily as the bra moved down her arms in a smooth gliding motion. Her pure white breasts, free of the confining bra, fell gracefully on her chest. Her light-brown nipples were nice and hard.

"You are going to get us in trouble again," I said.

She giggled. "Not at all. I don't think you are in any condition to get a hard-on, and Mistress would approve of what I am doing."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," she replied as she eased her thumbs into the panties and slid them down her legs. Totally naked, she was everything any man could want. The thick black triangle of hair that graced her lower abdomen contrasted perfectly with her alabaster body. Her breasts hardly moved as she moved toward me. 

"Lean forward," she whispered. "I need to get behind you."

She slid in back of me, pressing her wonderfully hard breasts into my back. As she wrapped her legs around my hips, the hairs of her pussy pressed against my lower back. She found a washcloth and soap and ever so gently washed my back. The affect was so soothing I almost forgot the pain.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"Much better," I replied. "That feels wonderful. If it weren't for this damn butt plug I think I'd be in heaven."

Priscilla laughed. "Unfortunately, that stays in until Mistress wants it out."

"How long have you known her?"

"I've been her slave for over two years. Believe it or not, she is much harder on females than males. But I love her deeply."

It was hard to imagine how Mistress could be any harder on anyone than she was on me tonight, but I let the comment slip without saying anything. 

"What does her husband think of all this?"

She only has sessions when her husband is away on business trips. He has no idea what happens when he is away. But he is gone 90% of the time, so she is free to accomplish her 'tasks' pretty much whenever she wants."

Priscilla placed the warm, wet towel behind my neck and squeezed the water down my back. The feeling was sensational. The water splashed around us, and I felt like a teenager on my first date. 

"Mr. Reynolds?"

"Yes?"

"I need to tell you something." She sounded very serious.

"Yes, go ahead."

"There will be times when Mistress rewards you. Sometimes the rewards involve me."

"I... I don't understand."

"Sometimes she will ask me to do what I did to you last weekend. While she watches. Sometimes she will ask you to make love to me, either anally or vaginally. While she watches. I just want you to know that I accept what she desires as a part of my relationship with her. I don't want you to feel that I am being forced to do something I don't want to do."

"I understand."

"Besides," she laughed, "since I already know what your cock is like, I just might enjoy our times together."

I laughed with her. "And having seen your body in all its glory, I just might enjoy those times as well. But I must ask you, knowing that Mistress would not approve of what you did to me last weekend, why did you do it?"

"Because I wanted to. Because you turned me on. And because I knew the worse punishment in the world might just be worth it. And it was. You have a nice cock, Mr. Reynolds."

I laughed again. "Well, thank you. But I don't think there is much left to it."

"By next week you will be hanging suits on it. Resilience. That's the magic word. The body recovers very nicely from pain. Learn to accept it."

"I am."

Suddenly Mistress Sarah strode into the room. My heart leaped into my throat. Were the both of us now in trouble? I looked straight down into the hazy water.

"And what are you two love-birds doing?" she asked.

Priscilla giggled delightedly. "Just getting to know each other a little better. And soothing poor Mr. Reynolds."

"He doesn't look like he needs much more soothing. He looks quite contented."

"Well, he is kind of agonizing," said Priscilla.

"Agonizing? Over what?"

"Inability to achieve an erection," she replied with another of her infectious giggles.

"I see," said Mistress Sarah. "But that might be expected, given the treatment it received earlier. How do you feel, Mr. Reynolds?"

I still looked down at the water. "Much better, thank you. Except for the butt plug."

"Those darn things can be quite annoying, can't they? Unfortunately, like last week's Tampon, it must remain inside you until you wake up tomorrow. It will serve as a reminder that you were a very bad boy. I will give you a tube of K-Y for when you remove it. It is a good idea to re-coat the anus with some gel before withdrawing it."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I must admit that the adventures of the evening have left me almost exhausted. I shall retire, but please feel free to stay with Priscilla and get to know her better. You will find that she grows on you. In fact, if you are good boy until the next time I see you, perhaps we can find time for you to get to know her in some rather intimate ways, and not just the inside of her mouth."

I said nothing in reply, but the thought of taking Priscilla, anally or vaginally, as she said, was something I could certainly enjoy. Mistress leaned down and kissed me lightly on the forehead, then kissed Priscilla lightly on the lips, before departing.

"Wow! I thought we were really in trouble."

"The trouble, Mr. Reynolds, will come the next time you are invited here. Tonight was merely a tune-up. She has you in her tentacles and she will never let go."

Indeed she did...