1 comments/ 16500 views/ 1 favorites Dark Maggie #01 By: kneeler1138 This story copyright ©2010 by kneeler1138. Reposting of this story in any form is strictly prohibited by the author without his permission. While I'd love this story to be true, it is just a story - Mistress Maggie is the compendium of several women in my life, past and present. Feedback is good. If you love the story a lot, and would like to fulfill your own Maggie fantasy, please don't hesitate to say hey. :-) ************************ SPA PARTY WITH MISTRESS MAGGIE Mistress has asked me to write about our first 'party.' Not the classic type, you understand, this was more like a somewhat twisted dinner party. Actually, Mistress refers to it as the 'spa' party. I guess it depends on your point of view. Some explanation is in order, first. Mistress and I have known each other for a goodly long time now. I first met her on a chat site some years ago. She chatted me up, as it were. She wasn't a Mistress, she was a 20 something black lady who was just looking around. I was a 30 something guy who wanted a Mistress, but didn't know how to find one. And I didn't think I would find one on that particular online site. At first we just chatted, then we got a little more, well, you get it. The online relationship went on from there, email and IM, and has never really stopped since. Through her, I discovered just what kind of a Mistress I wanted - it was easy, it was her. I have looked in those qualities in other women, even in other Dommes, but never found them. Through me, she discovered that she was interested in being a Domme; then, that she wanted to be a Domme; and finally, that she needed to *be* Dom. Along the way, so she's told me, there were others that she has played at Domming, but she always came back to me. That had always been enough, since we always seemed to be with other people at the same time, so our relationship at those times was based on the time we could share with each other. Mostly on the phone, but not always; I got to be a pretty good typist chatting with Mistress. Long intro, sorry...the point of all this is that she and I were the best of friends, knew each other's shit; and knew most of the deeper darker secrets of each other. When we finally managed to both be actually free of other relationships, we were together. And it was amazing. And it didn't last; fate pulled us apart. That's a whole other story or three. But eventually, ultimately, and even inevitably, we were together again. And that too is another few stories in the telling. And it was again amazing, had been for, well, let's just say a while now. She loved pushing the envelope on my comfort level, knowing that, down deep, I craved her humiliations and disciplines a lot more profoundly than Romeo ever felt about Juliet. She had started by pushing me physically; and she got me a lot healthier than I had been. Just a lot better shape. She had done it like a commanding lover, seducing me into it - but that was always her specialty. Being in better shape meant that it was easier to keep up with her, not to mention lasting longer when she had a mind to do something nasty to me. I liked that part a lot. Once she had hardened me up some, she started on the stuff that really made her hot. I'll tell you right now, I love seeing my blood on her lips. And she loves kissing me that way, too. So now that you know who Mistress and I are, the rest of this may make a bit more sense. She wanted to push more envelopes, so to speak. We'd gone out to a few 'bdsm' events since we'd gotten back together, but we were always both a little nervous. Although, as we would tell each other, if you see somebody you know at an event, that just means that both of you have something to hide. Still, shy or not, I know she liked showing off her power over me. But the drawback to that sort of public play was that nobody there knew us outside of the event. Of course, that was the advantage, too - but Mistress really wanted to share her 'real life' as she called it, with those she cared for. She was tired of being 'in the closet' to everybody. I understood. So, we'd talked about it, fantasized about it, and came up with a scenario that Mistress liked - she would invite a few very very carefully chosen friends to a small 'spa party.' I would serve them, first as just the hubby helping out, but if she felt them out and thought she could tell them, I would continue serving them as her slave doing their bidding. Who was on the list? Well, Beverly, the Sorority sister, and Michelle, her longtime friend were the ones she was sure of, but she wouldn't tell me exactly how many folks were coming. "Less than seven for dinner," was all she would say on the subject. Well, there was one more thing: "Dinner should be amazing, but don't tire yourself out cooking it, I'll need you all evening." When the evening arrived, there were indeed less than seven. There were four, including me, at the party. (Mistress told me later that she'd thought about having more, but couldn't come up with anybody she trusted.) The two ladies arrived within five minutes of each other. They were both charming. Neither of them had been to the house before. I'd met them at a social occasion or two with Mistress, who was by my side when I opened the door, and she showed them upstairs to change. The party was just beginning. There was wine, of course, several sorts, as well as nibble snacks of cheese, crackers and some fruit. The hot tub in the yard was bubbling softly, tiki torches lit, and dinner was ready to go whenever they were, plus about an hour. They came back downstairs, having changed into bathing suits, and I handed out their drink orders as they passed on the way to the tub. Mistress graciously took a glass of quite delightful Shiraz, Beverly asked for - and received - a glass of Chardonnay, and Michelle asked for the same as a spritzer with lime. Oops . . . I didn't have any limes, nor lime juice. Well, normally when I'm caught without an ingredient, I'm in trouble, as the pantry is my responsibility to stock. But fortunately, when Mistress and I went shopping for this evening, she had actually given the thumbs down on my suggestion that we buy some lemons and limes. I knew she'd remember that, which was confirmed when she glanced over at me with a little irritation. Then she smiled, and shook her head, saying, "Well, sweetie, I knew I should have trusted you on the pantry. Get your ass out of here and grab some, along with whatever else you think we need. Don't take long, we'll be soaking in the tub when you get back." I followed them outside with the bottles of wine and fizzy stuff, and the snacks, which were on a silly little floating tray for the tub. Then, when Mistress caught my eye and nodded, I was off for the store. I grabbed limes and lemons, juices of both, and a few other things that caught my eye. I blazed back, wedged up some lemons and limes, and headed out to the spa, where I could hear talking and laughing. They sounded like they'd gotten pretty comfy and warm in the last half hour or so I'd been gone. Beverly was talking when I arrived, I didn't catch about what, and Mistress said, "Hey, hold up a minute, Bev - you remember I told you this was ladies day - and you need to know that the man coming up with the limes is gonna take care of us however we want - that's his job tonight." She paused, then said, "And he knows that he'll be punished if he screws up, don't you, baby?" I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The ladies looked a little uncomfortable, I took my leave the second I could. I couldn't hear anything from the kitchen, but I kept my ears perked anyway. I saw Mistress stand up in the tub, and step up onto the patio for a moment. She went over to the wall, switched on the outside light, and suddenly, there was a click over our intercom speaker in the kitchen. Mistress' voice, very soft: "Listen close, babe." I saw her move away, back to the tub, I couldn't quite understand them all of the time, but Mistress, at least, was speaking a little loud to keep me listening; she wanted me to hear what was said. A lot of general laughter, and overlapping voices, then that slow tapering off that group laughs do, then I think it was Beverly, said: "Maggie," (That's Mistress) "Just what did you have to promise Charles," (That's me) "to get him to be the butler? I hope you didn't have to go too far, girl!" Mistress' deep laugh was distinctive, if a little slurred; they were on 3rds and 4ths already, and she waited for the two to die down a bit, then, "I didn't have to anything, I just told him to, and he always does as I tell him." Michelle jumped on that one. "Maggie, don't be telling us bullshit like that, ain't no man just does as he's told, and you know it. You gotta do something for him if he's gonna do shit like that for you." I wished I could see her face as Mistress replied with a little laugh, "Shell, all he asks in return for his complete obedience to me is that I keep him in line, and punish him when he needs it, or when I want to lay into him. If he's really good I reward him, but mostly, he serves my needs." There was total silence, and then Mistress continued, "I wanted you to come over today to meet Charles up close, because he's here to stay, and you guys are my best friends and," she was talking faster, I could tell she was nervous, "and, well, and you should know that, well, Charles isn't really my husband - he's really kinda my wife." Well, there wasn't any silence after that; all I could make out was noise, they were all talking. Then Mistress cut through it, "No, Bev, he isn't a woman, and you've seen my ass naked enough times to know I'm no man, but Charles is most definitely my wife, and, well, even my slave." More noise, I couldn't make out who was talking, then Mistress said, "What do I do for him? I torture him, tease him, torment him, and control him anyway I want to. And he smiles at me and begs for more. And before you ask - I love it as much as he does." Michelle jumped in again, she always went for the throat - "Yeah, right, 'Madam Maggie the whip girl!' Get his ass out here! You are so full of shit, girl!" Beverly said, "How many glasses of wine did you drink before we came, Mags? You must be pretty fucked up to come up with some shit like this!" "I'm a little buzzed, but I started drinking when you guys did! Let's call him out here, you ask him as many questions as you like!" Mistress picked up the bell at the edge of the tub and tinkled it; that was my signal. I walked out to the tub, and before I could even get to the edge, Michelle was on it: "OK, Charles, this crazy girl here says you're her slave, and she can do anything she wants to you, and you beg for more - what do you think about that?" Before I could even start to answer, Beverly grabbed Michelle by the shoulder, and said, "And don't forget the other part, where he'll do whatever she says!" They both looked at me. "Well?" That was Michelle, she was staring at me harder than I thought possible. "I am Maggie's slave, slut, wife, and servant. I generally refer to her as Mistress, or Mistress Maggie." I twitched a little. I didn't know what else to say. Mistress had told me some of what she had planned, and this was part of it. That didn't mean I knew what to do about it. Or how to explain Mistress and her lovely, inescapable hold on me. Is 'hold' the right word, when you want it? Even crave it? MIchelle turned to Mistress; "Are you mistreating this boy, Maggie?" She turned suddenly back around to face me, "Is she mistreating you? Don't be afraid - Maggie's my friend, but I won't stand by and let her hurt somebody." "Madam Michelle, I can assure you that she does in fact, mistreat me wonderfully, and I'm sure that what you mean is, you won't stand by and let Maggie hurt somebody who doesn't want to be hurt," was my response. My face was burning. "You like her hurting you?" That was Beverly. She didn't sound nearly as outraged as Michelle wanted to be. "Madam Beverly," I started slowly..."It's difficult to fully explain. Mistress Maggie doesn't hurt me so much as stimulate me heavily, sometimes in ways that might be considered painful, but in the moment, they are not. May I ask, have you heard of endorphins?" Mistress said quickly, "Charles, don't even get started on some science shit, I think we need some more snacks, and I want to stretch out on a chair and catch some of that sun before it goes away. Help me out." I grabbed the big towel off the kneewall, and as she stood up, I wrapped it around her. She stepped away from the pool, quickly dried her hair a bit, handed me the towel, and undid the top of her suit, which fell away from her beautiful breasts. "Dry me, babe," she said to me, over her shoulder. As I did, slow strokes of the thirsty towel, not missing an inch, not sexual, but very sensual, she continued, "I hope you two don't mind, the whole point of this little party is to enjoy having a lovely little spa day - some hot tub, some sun, some oil, some really tasty food, and drinks under the stars. Sound good?" She looked at them, a little anxiously. They both nodded. "Besides, how often do you get a slave to wait on you hand and foot? Enjoy!" I had dried most of her upper half, and was going for her legs, when Mistress untied the bottoms as well. "Keep drying, slaveboy," she said, matter of factly. She looked over at the two still in tub, said, "I'm gonna layout for a bit in the sun, he's gonna put oil on me - and then I offer him to you to do the same." The two looked a little weird, glanced at each other, then back at Mistress, who hastily added - "Don't forget, he is a slave. He takes no liberties, he is just a servant who knows his place, don't you, Charles?" I nodded, on my knees, finishing up Mistress' legs, and said, "Yes, Maam." Beverly looked at Michelle, Michelle looked back, a beat, then she said "Well, damn, I ain't gonna miss this!" She stood up, and walked over to the edge, and said to me, "When you are finished with her, dry me next." Mistress stepped away from me, and stretched out on one of the chaises near the tub. "Do as you're told," she said quietly. I walked over to Michelle, and wrapped the hastily grabbed fresh towel over her shoulders. "No, Charles," she said, shrugging out of the towel, more hasty grabbing to keep it off the ground - "If you're gonna oil us up, I might as well be naked, too." I waited, towel in hand, while she peeled off her suit as well. She was fairly attractive. Not my goddess, but not bad. "Get drying," she said simply. I gave her the identical treatment I had given Mistress, and you better believe I took no liberties; but as I was working my way down her legs, I noticed a hint of special moisture appearing on her nether lips. She was liking this, perhaps. As I carefully dried Michelle, Beverly stepped up out of the pool, and grabbed a towel. Mistress looked over, said, "You don't have to do that, honey, Charles will take care of you, too." Beverly looked over at Michelle, with me kneeling and drying her off, and said with a smile, "I'm good. But he can definitely put some oil on so my ass doesn't burn." Her suit joined the others, and she quickly toweled off, so that both she and Michelle were stretching out in the chaises at the same time. Mistress looked over at me, said, "Charles, go get fresh drinks, something with a straw so I don't have to sit up all the damn time to get a sip." She looked over at the others. "Something fruity with some rum?" I knew there was a reason I'd grabbed the oranges with the other fruits back at the store. They both laughed, Beverly said, "Not too much rum, just a splash for me, with some coke, and do you have some more snacks, maybe?" Mistress laughed. "Don't ask him, Bev, tell him what you want - he's the slave!" Beverly suddenly smiled, a quiet little secret smile, and spoke slowly. "Bring me some more of that cheese and crackers, and don't skimp on the grapes." A yes Maam was my response with a nod, and a questioning look at Michelle. "Well, I like the rum and coke, but I'd rather have a fruity thing. Is that like a Mai Tai?" she asked, looking back at Mistress. "Honey if you want a Mai Tai, tell him to bring you one," Mistress said. "He knows what I mean by fruity drink - it's a shot of rum with half pineapple juice, and half fresca with some grapefruit juice and a slice of lemon, which his ass had better have bought at the store," she finished, with a hard glance at me. "Yes, Mistress Maggie-," I smiled back, nodding. Michelle thought about it, then nodded. "I'll be right back, ladies," I said as I moved back to the kitchen. Mistress called out after me, "Change into something more appropriate, boy." I knew what that meant, and changed in the kitchen, after all I'd been wearing it under the slacks. Off went the shoes, socks and pants, leaving me in a pair of Mistress' lacy boy-shorts. She prefers me in thongs, but didn't want to go too fast with her friends. But they were obviously her panties, not mine; they were oversized black stretchy lace. Mistress thought they were too transparent, so she had me put on a tiny black thong under that. And her favorite cock ring under that; the one that had 'Property of Maggie' engraved on it. My nipple piercings were joined by a small silver chain; that wouldn't be visible just yet, Mistress hadn't given me that signal. So the shirt came off in favor of another tee shirt, more like a camisole top, also in black. Feminine for sure, but not full on drag, thankfully. I finished it off with Mistress' favorite collar, and put in her favorite earring, the female symbol that connected on a chain to my collar. It took a lot for me to take those drinks out, I felt ridiculous. I was used to that in front of Mistress, even loving it for her, and proud of it in front of total strangers, but this was new. I served the drinks, trying not to listen, I was afraid, and fetched the suntan oil. I started to kneel next to Mistress' chaise, but she stopped me. "Do Beverly first, she's so light, she's gonna burn," she said firmly. I moved over to Beverly's chaise, and commenced to smear the oil over her back, and across her shoulders, over her arms...then jumped over the question of her ass by starting at her feet and working up, trying to catch Mistress' attention for some guidance. She finally looked over, and I caught her eye, then looked down at Beverly's bare ass cheeks, which were just about the last thing I had to do. Mistress smiled, and nodded. I finished off Beverly with her ass, which was pretty nice. I made sure every inch was properly oiled, but did not dawdle or attempt to tease or arouse. But I could see the dampness growing between her legs. Beverly looked over her shoulder at me, and said "Thank you, Charles. Now go do Mags - I mean, your Mistress. You can come back later and do my front," she said with an impish smile. She was getting into this in her quiet way, I could tell. Mistress was next, she was thankfully familiar territory, which I covered quickly but thoroughly. Then it was Michelle's turn. She had been sounding sorta nervous as she bantered with Mistress while I did Mistress' ass, and got really quiet when Mistress rolled over and I proceeWed to finish off all of her, breasts, pussy . . . Mistress was sopping wet, and I was getting pretty aroused myself, just smelling her. Michelle was watching, I could feel her eyes on us. As I approached, she glanced up, then quickly shut her eyes again. She shuddered as I proceeded to rub the oil in. Isn't that always the way? Michelle, the brash one, suddenly as shy as you could get, while Beverly, the quiet unassuming one, was already calling Maggie "Mistress." Her ass was tight and muscular, and she wasn't very relaxed, but I managed. I wasn't sure quite what to do when I had finished her backside and ass, I just knelt there and waited - I didn't know if she was going to roll over or not... Dark Maggie #01 "Come over here, uh, slave and do my front," came Beverly's voice. Michelle almost gasped with relief as I crawled over to Beverly. She was attractively posed on her back, one leg up, head resting on her rolled up towel. I approached, and, starting at her hands, worked my way up and across, making sure to get her breasts completely oiled, crease and all. I gave the nipples special attention, they were a little dry, but hard as rocks. I was careful to not look at Beverly's face or eyes, but I could feel them burning on me. By the time I got to her legs, she was obviously dripping wet. I tended to her legs, and, when there was nothing left, worked the last of the lotion onto the skin around her obviously aroused pussy. "Ahhh....Get the lips, too, slave," Beverly said softly. Wow, she really was getting into it. I looked over at Mistress, was surprised to see her hand on her own pussy, slowly rubbing as she watched. She had a catlike smile and a very sloe look in her eyes. My cock throbbed when I saw it. I did as they both wanted, of course. I worked the lotion around the lips of Beverly's pussy, and was not surprised to feel her moving her hips against my fingers. I worked the lotions right up to the very edge of her lips, having to move around a bit to get under her tight black curls. She moaned very softly, and then said, "Go give Michelle some of that, slaveboy." I heard Mistress chuckle from her chaise. "Do as she says, Charles, but first refresh these drinks," Mistress commanded softly. I had to go back to the house, and fetch some more wine and snacks, was what she meant. The intercom was still on though. . . Michelle started off: "Bev, I can't believe you told him to touch you, well...there." Mistress jumped in before anybody could say more. "Michelle, Charles will do whatever you wish. If you want him to rub you with lotion, he will. If you don't, he won't. You want him to rub lotion on your titties, he will do it gladly. You tell him no titties, he won't touch them." Michelle muttered something, and Beverly said, "What'd you say, Shell?" Michelle said, a little sullenly, "I said, If I tell him to touch my titties, I'm gonna want him to touch a lot more than that, not just lips, mind you." She turned slightly accusative, speaking, I think to Mistress, "This is all your fault - I'm gonna get all worked up, and go home to that miserable husband of mine all turned on and frustrated." Mistress replied, "No you aren't, Michelle." That inspired a moment of silence. Beverly chimed in, "Are you telling us that you want your husband to serve us sexually as well as dinner?" Mistress hastily slid back in before things could get weird, saying, "Look, both of you...he isn't gonna fuck anybody. And I don't want him cumming unless I say so. But, as I said, he is my slave, and I want to share him with both of you. He will do as much or as little as you'd like, like I said. You don't want him to do anything, he won't! He's a slave, he does as he's told!" Wow, sorta a bombshell, there was a lot of noise after that. I took advantage of the explosion of sound to chop more veggies and fruit, wondering how the rest of the evening would go, and finished up the prep fairly quickly. It only took a moment or two for things to die down a bit, then I heard Mistress say, "I hope Charles remembers to bring more of the Shiraz, I'm almost out." More Shiraz was the signal to go back out, which I was more than ready for, as I'd been actually sitting down at the table sipping some Fresca. Although I almost forgot to actually bring out another bottle of the Shiraz. I didn't bother to open it, I knew that she actually had another two glasses in the bottle she was drinking, which was her second. The three of them were pretty toasty. As I finished with the drinks, Michelle called out, "Alright, slave, time to do my front, and all my front, don't skip an inch." She laid back, then lifted her head back up to say, "And my nipples are really dry so get 'em good." I always do as I'm told, we've established that. A glance at Mistress confirmed what I already knew, that she was happy the way things were progressing. I worked the lotion well into Michelle's broad shoulders from her fingers to her neck. As I touched her neck, she shivered. Hmmm. I worked my way down across her torso, fully coveying her breasts as she sighed deeply, her dark skin getting even darker across her chest as her nipples got harder and harder. I worked the lotion into them completely, until they were actually relaxing. Michelle was purring. Then down to her feet...and back up her legs to her thighs, getting as close as I could to her pussy, then working my up past it to her unfinished stomach and sides, working the lotion in downward strokes across her belly. Another glance at Mistress revealed her sipping her drink as she reclined, one hand absently rubbing herself as she watched...and to my surprise, Beverly had rolled her chaise over near Mistress, and was chatting quietly with her, and her hand, too, was absently rubbing at her own slit. Michelle's belly was trembling violently as I neared her vee, and when I began working the lotion into her much sparser hair, I found her lips to be swollen hard from arousal, and the juice was running down into the crack of her ass into the towel. It was saturated already, she was practically frothing, she was so wet. I did just as I had done with Beverly, worked the lotion right up the to very limits of her lips, and although it didn't really need it, I did make the extra finger motions on the lips that I had had to do with Beverly's dense fur. Michelle groaned as I did. I looked up at Mistress, to find both her and Beverly openly rubbing themselves, still chatting about something as they watched, both women's eyes were half closed, and although they were mostly looking at Michelle and I, they were also glancing at each other a lot. Having finished, I asked, "Is there anything else I can do for you, Ms. Michelle?" while wiping the rest of the lotion off of my hands onto another towel. Michelle slowly opened her eyes, they were aflame with excitement. "You missed a spot! Get the center, slave!" she demanded, glancing over at Mistress. Mistress chuckled, "Don't be long, slutboy, your owner is starting to get hungry for dinner." With that imperative, I worked my fingers back onto her lips, and slowly worked my way between them, touching her softly, massaging her lips, slowly working my way around her clit . . . Michelle was super sensitive, as I worked her lips she was starting to groan deep in her throat, and by the time I got to her clit, she was starting to thrash about, and her groans became deep throbbing moans of climax. I had barely touched her clit when she exploded, her body becoming a statue, muscles locked, her voice stilled but for a quiet, slowly building squeal, that built and built, and just as I thought she was going to scream, Beverly suddenly appeared at the side of the chaise, sitting down and snaking her hand across Michelle's mouth to stifle it. It was like an electric shock to Michelle, her body, locked tight, suddenly released, and she screamed and thrashed, thrashed and screamed, until Beverly pulled her head into her breast to muffle her more. Michelle suddenly found her face against Beverly's very nice mid sized breasts, and her scream slowly died away, and her body slid down into complete relaxation, her head sliding down into Beverly's lap. Michelle had peaked, and I had slowed down my fingers as she did, and by now, was easing away from her; she was done. "Go get dinner going, my good wife, and then get the gazebo opened up - I want to eat outside," Mistress said. I picked up my towel, and retired to the kitchen as Mistress walked over to the pair. She called out to me as I left, "Oh, and turn that outside light out when you go in - and light the rest of the torches when you set up the gazebo." Another signal. I turned of the outside light, and switched off the intercom, too. She wanted some alone time with them. I wondered what she was going to tell them next. I pulled ingredients from the fridge, double checked the ovens, and then went out the bedroom slider to the gazebo, one of those big (18' or so across) old beautiful wrought iron affairs with a roof of canvas and drapes of mosquito netting. Well, ok, not old, it came from Home Depot, and the directions sucked. That was another story. I had built a custom pedestal on the inside, it was basically a big platform with a special lift up center. I pulled off the square center pillow, exposing the lift up table. I pulled up on one of the many rings set in it, which are a story all by themselves, and lifted the table into it's eating position on a center post. This left a large padded bench entirely around the raised stable center, and even offers a place to put your feet, or you could just recline on the pad - the bench was nearly 4 feet wide. A table cloth, a basket of fruit and bread, and some utensils and icewater, then I turned on the electric candles, lit the torches outside, and drew the mosquito netting on three sides. The torches were the signal to Mistress that all was ready. I went back inside to finish dinner, dropping three robes off at the bench next to the spa area, where I knew Mistress would find them in a few moments. It was starting to cool off. From the kitchen window, I could see them all gathered on two chaises, talking intently. After a few minutes, Mistress stood and gestured them towards the gazebo, and they moved across the yard, stopping halfway at the bench, all three lovelies pulling on the robes. The robes were silk, and just above the knee or so on Mistress. All three were Chinese Red with black trim. They would be stunning, all three of them, I was sure. They would find slippers waiting in the gazebo, if they wanted them. I couldn't see the gazebo very well, but they seemed to be laughing a lot, and dinner was only a few minutes away. I went back outside to get any new drink orders. On my way back, I cleared up the hot tub area, and by the time I got back inside, the timer was about to sound. I hastily dumped the dishes into the dishwasher and frantically mixed up their dinner orders, then pulled the salad out of the fridge just in time for the timer. Out came the souffle; and the lamb chops in the second oven were just done, as well. Perfect timing, I love it. Everything went on a giant tray, and I carefully carried it to the table with caddy in hand, doing the fancy waiter thang, setting up the big tray, then serving three very hungry horny and happy women. I had eaten my own dinner while prepping theirs; there wouldn't be another opportunity for me to eat! My dinner was simple; a hearty sandwich and some veggies. For the ladies? Salad first with a raspberry vinaigrette, lots of walnuts and some fresh mozzarella cheese, followed by a cheese souffle (cheddar, baby swiss and some real parmesan), the lamb chops in their pretty little panties, some stir fried veggies on the side, and then some chocolate fudge cake with hot fudge on top, a scoop of fresh strawberry ice cream on the side. I stood behind and to one side of Mistress, offering aid, assistance, and additional portions, as required. As I served the dessert, Mistress reached out and pulled me close, whispering in my ear, "I love you, Charles." Then she pulled back slightly, and said in a normal voice, "Show yourself proper and get down there and serve me the way I want, slut." I pulled off the top, revealing my nipples and their chains, and, hearing Michelle's gasp and Beverly's chuckle, pulled off the underwear, revealing the cock ring and it's engraving, connected by a chain to a little collar just behind the head of my cock. Then I slid across the bench, and under the table, and right between Mistress' legs. She slid herself close to the edge, and they kept talking while I began to lick her, slowly at first, reveling in the copious fluids flooding my mouth as I devoured her. It wasn't long before her hand was under the table on my hand, pulling me into her. She wasn't talking now; she was gasping and moaning, then she was calling out, "Eat me, bitch, eat your Mistress!" Then her hand was pushing me away, but holding my collar. She wanted me under the table. "Anybody else for dessert?" Mistress finally said, regaining her breath. "Ummm, me next," I heard Beverly say. Suddenly, Mistress released my collar, and patted me on the head. I moved under the table to Beverly, and repeated the process. It took longer for her to really lose control, I think she was finally embarrassed, talking to her two friends whilst being eaten out so thoroughly. Eventually, I felt her fall back onto the cushions, both hands locking on my head as she suddenly began humping like there was no tomorrow. Her words were impossible to understand. She too, was done, her hands pushing me away. Mistress' voice came again. I was watching Michelle's legs under the table; they were closed, but twitching. "Michelle? Sweetie? You want some dessert?" Mistress giggled. Michelle's legs slid open quickly, and I heard her say, "Oh you better believe it. How can I get my do nothing husband to do this for me?" I smiled quietly to myself as I slid up to Michelle's also soaking pussy, and she didn't take long at all. She started getting vocal pretty quick, and I noticed Beverly's legs disappearing from under the table, followed by Mistress' legs, and then Michelle got quieter. But the sucking sounds were new, and I wished I could see. It wasn't long before Michelle was bucking like a bronco in orgasm again, this time, nearly silently. I slowed down, slowly stopped, then leaned back against the center post of the table. My tongue hurt. As I panted like a dog, Michelle's legs slowly withdrew, now I was alone under the table. The sounds continued; I was pretty sure there were things being sucked and licked up there, and there were starting to be more than occasional moans. After about five minutes of this, the sounds built up and then died down. Not screaming orgasms, perhaps, but I think fun was had. Finally, Mistress' voice called out, "Slave, are you still under there? Get your ass to work and get some nice warm towels for your Mistress and her guests." Off I went, chains jangling, and was back posthaste with some warm wet washcloths and towels. I offered the tray the the three ladies, who were a sight indeed. Michelle had her head in Beverly's lap, and although she was now on her back, it was evident that she'd had her face buried in her pussy only a moment before. Mistress was off to one side, reclining on some pillows, her fingers stroking away at her swollen lips. Mistress looked over at me as I handed her a washcloth and towel, and said, "Fetch the Feel-doe, it's time to show them just what kind of a slut you are." When I came back from the toy closet with it, Mistress had me insert it into her. Beverly and Michelle watched like a pair of satiated lionesses, their bodies gleamed bronze and gold and luscious brown in the torchlight. Mistress bent me over the table, and, positioning herself behind me on the cushion, proceeded to insert it slowly into me. It wasn't long before it was buried inside me, and Mistress started to move. And as she started to move, she started to talk. "Take it, bitch . . . take your owner's cock . . . oh fuck . . . you like that, slutboy?" By now, I could only moan, and move my hips to her rhythm...I realized suddenly what I was doing, and looked over at the two ladies, to find them hungrily watching as Mistress raped my ass with my full, enthusiastic cooperation. After a moment or two, she started to come from the Feel-doe's action on her own clit, and a moment later, had pulled out and told me to roll over, whereupon she took a deep breath and slid it back into me. "You wanna come for me, wifey? You wanna show my two friends who owns who's ass in this family, bitch boy?" My cock was hard now, and my ass was riding her cock like a pro. Her hands went up to my nipples, pulling on the rings, then pinching the nipples viciously with her nails. My cock throbbed helplessly. "Huh, bitch? Show my friends who you belong to, whore wife - come for your Mistress...come for your owner while I fuck you like a slut in front of my two best friends..." she trailed off, she was coming again, and then I was coming, shooting up across my chest, splattering myself. Mistress watched with slitted eyes and a chesire cat smile on her face, then leaned over, scooped up my cum, and held it to my lips. "Show them, slut...eat it for momma...eat it for your owner...." she crooned softly. I did, gratefully. The four of us rested, there was only panting to be heard. After a short rest, Mistress actually hand fed me some fruit for my blood sugar before calling on me again to serve her orally. At one point, I was successively serving all three ladies while they kissed each other and rolled around. Finally, the sun was long down, the torches were burning low, and I could see that all three ladies were tired out. "Put on some clothes, babe, and help us get inside, I want to watch a movie," Mistress said. "These two will be staying the night, maybe in one bed." "Definitely in one bed," came Beverly's voice from under Michelle. "And I want some popcorn, too," said Michelle. "Not in bed," said Beverly. The rest of the evening was pretty uneventful; we watched a movie, I served snacks, and eventually, Mistress pulled my head back into her lap. Beverly pulled Michelle's head down into her lap. I licked Mistress to three orgasms, and when she finally pulled my head up, the other two were gone - to bed, I suspect. In the morning, all three ladies were quiet and thoughtful over a hearty breakfast. Mistress smiled at me a lot, she was obviously very happy. I wondered what was going to happen to Michelle's hapless husband. And I suspected that Beverly's boyfriend was in for a few shocks, as I saw Mistress give Beverly a new Feel-doe as she left. Or maybe that was for Michelle. I suspected I'd find out, I figured that the party would be continued at another time. And then they were gone, and Mistress turned to me, a huge smile on her face, and pulled me close. We kissed for about a year. She finally pulled away, and said, "Well, my excellent slave wife boy slut, that was perfect! As a reward you can do whatever you want to today!" She moved in close, licked my ear, and whispered, "What do you want, slut boy?" "Truthfully, Mistress, I would love to go back to bed for a nap," I said, a little sheepishly. "I'm still beat." "No beatings, not yet anyways, but maybe later, if you ask sweet," Mistress said. "Alright, go nap, my love, and I'll wake you up at noon with some lunch, and maybe even some food!" she laughed as she slapped me lightly on the ass, and sent me off to bed. Indeed, I woke several hours later to Mistress' sweet wet pussy descending on my face, and as I regained my brain from sleep, I lost it again to her sweet charms, her fingers working on my nipples while I stroked my cock for her. Once we'd both exploded, we lay in bed nibbling on Mistress' lunch, and then both of us slept the afternoon away in each other's arms. ************************ There's lots more in the story of 'Dark Maggie,' my perfect Mistress. I'd love to hear your thoughts...! Dark Maggie #02 Mistress comes by after work, as usual. After a little nosh for energy, she points to the floor in front of her - I strip off my clothes, and put on her favorite panties, and then drop to my knees at her feet...she grasps my head in one hand, and pulls me to her crotch...I nuzzle it, sniff at the fabric of her pants...I can smell her excitement. I'm distracted momentarily, and suddenly the collar goes 'click' around my neck. her hands now grasp my head and pulls me in close. "Worship, boy, "she says, and I begin to do just that...snuffling and sniffing at her crotch like a dog...finally she can stand no more, and she stands and drops her slacks to the floor, along with her panties. She pulls my head back, and jams it in between her sopping thighs. She tilts my head back. she reaches over me to the table, to the clamps waiting there. They are beautiful and merciless, and their bite only turns me on more. Mistress holds the chain in her hand...and she pulls me closer. "Open, baby...time to suck your Mistress." And my mouth drops open instantly, and just as quickly, her hand guides it to her. And then my lust takes over...I suckle it like a baby at a full milky tit...and I am...and it is...full of milk. And I want it...need it...and want my Mistress to cover me with it, inside and out...fill me full and yet leave me wanting more. I swirl my tongue around it as I slowly work it, pushing my tongue a little deeper with every move forward...my hands sliding up and down her legs, sliding over her ass...one hand wrapping softly around her ass cheek, the other teasing at her ass as I feel her get even wetter than she already was. She groans, her strong hands now clutching at my head, and starting to hump it against me. "Take it, slut...that's it, bitchboy cumsucker...show me you're my bitch, baby - oh, god, yes - suck me...oh yeah...I'm gonna fill you up, slave...." she is grunting now, that sexy deep in the chest huff of pure lust that fills up my slave self just as surely as her cum will fill up the rest of me...any minute now...oh please I want it! Her legs are trembling now, and she pulls my head off, and taking ahold of the leash, pulls me after her into the bedroom, where she perches on the edge of the bed...she gestures, and my mouth is instantly on her again...I have to force myself not to go so fast, but I so want her cum. Her hands guide me, using my mouth as her toy. I am using my tongue to it's fullest...my tongue sliding out under her clit to get to her tunnel. her hands fall away as she falls back - she needs to thrust, and can't do it without leverage... "Oh yeah....oh my good slut...my good little slave, " she moans. I know she's close, and I slurp her juices leaking out, coating my tongue with sharp slutty sliminess. As I work her now, just the way she taught me, her hands suddenly jump down to my head as her pelvis leaps up...then as I feel her get sensitive, I pull off, and start slowly, oh so slowly, licking Mistress clean, from ass all the way to clit...swiping the last drops carefully out and off...and I still haven't swallowed...I'm feeling her cum swirl around in my mouth...loving the taste...the texture. she pulls me up next to her...she tells me not to swallow yet. I don't. her eyes bore into me...I want to kiss her... The kiss, when it came, was amazing. Well worth it. Later, as they say...we laid in each other's arms talking and kissing for several hours. Mistress is an amazing kisser, and the more excited she gets, the sloppier the kiss. My favorite. That wasn't our first encounter, obviously. She doesn't want to 'play' every night, although she will bury my face in her crotch at almost any opportunity, just to taunt me, and excite her, frequently to orgasm, sometimes quite casually. As in, "Slutboy! I'm frustrated with this article, get your ass in here and lick me while I think about it!" She understands me in a way no one else does. She learned, early on in our relationship, that I am actually a pretty disciplined guy, when I want to be. The problem is that I don't always want to be. She found ways to enable me to be strong enough to do lots of things that are good for me, in the long run. She doesn't wheedle. She doesn't threaten, not usually. She dangles carrots. And I am definitely her ass, in more ways than one - I'll follow her carrot forever. An example: she likes/hates exercise. I hate/hate exercise. She likes company when she works out. I love the way she smells after she does. I can't tell you why. I have, in my life, just like anybody else, smelled my share of sweat and other frequently pungent bodily odors, including of course my own. Hers - any of hers - does something peculiar to my brain and body. I won't say that I can refuse her nothing, because I don't know that that's true. I do know that I haven't refused her yet... We have a pretty humdrum life, I suppose, in a way. Certainly it's comfortable, sorta like hanging out with your best friend on a saturday afternoon, combined with an always simmering, frequently bubbling and boiling lust for each other. She loves having me serve her; my mouth knows her body more intimately than my own. And I'm pretty sure I've licked every square millimeter of it, from the mouth on down. I love worshipping her. When she wants a more aggressive lover, nipple clamps with chains go on in order to get me aroused, and any one of a number of cock rings help keep me that way. And if I can't always perform to her satisfaction, well, let's just say that she has been known to strap a cock on me if she wants to be truly pillaged. When we talked at lunch today, she was sultry and teasing. When I called her on my way home, she let me know she was running late. That was good; so was I. About forty minutes later, I'm in the kitchen in the outfit Mistress called me and told me to wear; I'm in low slave heels, fishnets, a garter belt and Mistress' silky panties, under which my cock is restrained in a heavy steel ring. My hair is freshly trimmed - all of it - and I'm freshly showered. It all takes time, and thank goodness she's running late. I'm preparing one of Mistress's favorites, chicken cordon bleu; and while I'm concentrating on pounding out the breasts, I suddenly feel a presence behind me, and her strong hands reach around me to pinch my nipples. Hard. My knees get weak, and I moan helplessly in passion, I feel her mouth on my neck, kissing me while she pinches...then she turns me around, pulling me into her. I didn't hear her come in. "Mmmmm, looks good, slut...if dinner is as good as usual, I'll reward your sissy ass with a good fucking...would you like that?" I'm moaning louder now as she works my nipples, but I'm not so helpless that I can't say "Yes, Mistress, thank you Mistress..." She turns me back around, and I suddenly feel her hands stroking my pantied ass. Now one hand slips under the silky salmon thong strap...and a finger gently but insistently prods at my tight little hole. I couldn't stop her even if I wanted to; my hands are covered with chicken goo and flour. I hear her deep chuckle, and her hand withdraws. "I'm sure I don't want you to spoil dinner, so I'll spare you for the moment." Her eyes suddenly twinkle as she sits on one of the barstools on the other side of the island. "Some wine, Mistress?" I say, not sure how I will take care of that; my hands look like a horror movie in poultry. But the breasts on the board look good - nicely rounded, stuffed with a bit of ham and the best bleu I could find. I guess I can rinse off, after all. "That would be lovely. Don't stop cooking." She slides off the barstool, and grabs a glass. I've already opened the bottle, it's sitting politely on the counter, breathing. She pours. She sips. She smiles. So do I. While I cook, she does her best to distract me, pinching, pulling on my nips, devouring my neck with her lips and rubbing herself against me. She releases me from time to time so I can pull ingredients out of the fridge, or chop things. Finally, the chicken is stuffed, (as I'm soon to be, I hope) and in the oven, the salad is made, and the veggies are waiting for their quick stir fry. The rosemary sourdough rolls I made a few days ago are ready for reheating. Whew. "Good slut...you managed to work despite the distraction...I'm very pleased..." she husks into my oh so hot ear. She grabs my pantied cock and uses it as a leash to pull me into the bedroom and onto the bed. We roll around on it, her strong arms wrapped around me, her lips devouring me over and over. Her hands are all over me - pulling and twisting my nipples, playing with my cock, then slapping it, all to her desire...pleasure and pain. That's why I love her so and worship her so utterly. She kisses me, then peels off her top and bra to have me suckle at her breasts. I suck gently at her nipples while she abuses mine. Just as our passion seems to be cresting, I hear the timer buzz in the kitchen. I groan in real frustation, and Mistress chuckles at it as she gets up. She quickly finishes removing her clothes, her brown skin softly glowing with excitement. She walks to her closet, and disappears inside. Ever the dutiful wife, I start to get up to help. "Don't get up, baby, I'll be out in a minute," she says from behind the half open door. I'm hoping that the chicken isn't going to dry out, that would be painful. Just then she reappears. She is wearing a pretty good sized pitch black dildo. The one with the attachment that goes inside her. Ummm. I'm starting to think this may be a good night. She walks over to the bed, gesturing to me to hold out my hands, then she pulls me up by my hands, and as I rise to an upright sitting position on the edge of the bed, she releases my hands, and grasps my head tightly, pulling it to her cock. I know what to do from here. Boy, I hope the chicken doesn't dry out. I must've hesitated. "Just a little, slutwife, " she whispers, "then you can finish dinner and serve me." I do love serving, whether it's her dinner or her luscious body. I suck her dildo into my mouth, smelling that amazing scent that is my MIstress at her best. After a minute of gentle sucking, I start to slide off the bed onto my knees, but she stops me. "Dinner first, you naughty slave, then you can have your dessert," she says quietly. "Get my robe. You know the one." Fortunately, the chicken was not dried out, in fact I had to cook it a few more minutes. The salad was a hit, and the stir-fried veggies - sugar snap peas, baby corn, some bok choy - pretty standard stuff, turned out perfectly. The rolls were tasty, too. And dessert was wonderful, too. Dark Maggie #03 Before she finally took me for good and all, my Mistress would send me panties. They were to 'inspire' me to write for her, among other things. She liked to remind me that I was still her servant, in spite of the fact that she was (at that time) a married woman, and I was in a relationship as well. Both her marriage and my relationship were so vanilla that there were bean specks all through them. But we had both tasted the tastier fruit of the BDSM tree; and it can be pretty addictive. It tortured both of us, separately and together. She told me later that her masturbatory fantasies outstripped her sex life with her husband, and certainly my girlfriend couldn't even hold a candle to Mistress, even a Mistress of remembrance only. And some nipple clamps. Of course, if it were only sex, it would have been easier to deal with. But no, it had to be more complicated than that. Mistress was (and is) the only woman I had ever known that matched me in virtually every way - intellectually, politically, you name it. Sexually? Well, uh, yeah...only beyond my wildest fantasies. The long and the short of it was that she had ended the relationship; I still loved her. When I had heard she was married, I tried to completely close my mental doors on her. It failed. Of course, even the ring on her finger wasn't enough to keep her from chatting with me from time to time, and occasionally phone. So hope would sprang eternal. And now the panties. And the stories. She had started with a nice thong, with a combination of lovely scents on them. Something that smelled like perfume, or perhaps a sachet from her undie drawer, and, faintly, her lovely, lusty personal scent. The scent that would turn off my brain. And that was the problem. That scent...oooh that lovely smell. I would pull out the panties and bury my face in them, snuffling and licking like some crazed beast. My brain would turn off, my cock would stiffen, and my sole thought was the name I would moan into the cloth. Her name. Over and over, in fact...it might even become a chant, in a way. Or a prayer, perhaps. That's it - a prayer. In return for this amazing scrap of cloth, she had asked for another story of my submission and surrender to her. It took a few days to come up with one, but I had finally finished it, and sent it off. She loved it, and a few days later - another pair of panties. This time old and worn...and smelling a lot less like sachet and a lot more like, well, paradise. In fact, she wrote that she masturbated in them, and got them as sopping wet as she could before sealing them in a ziploc, and sending them off. I lost all control when I got them, again behaving like a beast...and her juices flooding my nostrils and then my tongue...oh god, I came, and came and came. For days I gorged myself on her. And I followed her directions that she wrote me in the email she sent me after she sent the package, and would call out "I am Mistress' slave . . .I belong only to Mistress . . .I will always obey Mistress . . . I will make Mistress a good wife . . ." as I played with myself, the panties over my face, nipple clamps biting me, my left hand clutching at my balls occasionally. And I never failed to lick up all my goo, just as Mistress instructed. I even sent her a picture of me licking my hand clean, she loved that one. And the stories continued to flow from me... detailing the utter submission and willing slavery of a man to a woman. And with every story, the reward, and new instructions. Before long, it occurred to me that I was not only her willing slut, but she was conditioning me to be ONLY hers, no one else's. And I didn't mind a bit - in fact it excited me all the more. I even became a willing participant in the exercise. As time progressed, it became more and more obvious to me that when Mistress called, I would come; in any sense of the word. We continued to email back and forth, and chat; and stories flowed out, and panties and other unmentionables flowed in. Sometimes pictures flowed back and forth, and our love and connection and lust just grew and grew. One day, it happened. We both had known it would. She couldn't take it anymore - her husband was out of town for some meeting or other for his corporation, and she'd declined his invitation to be his arm candy for the obligatory group dinner. "They bore the fuck out of me," is what she said to me later. My girlfriend had been at her house that weekend, about 70 miles from me. I'd gotten an email from Mistress the night before, asking me to meet her online Saturday morning, she wanted to chat. And chat we had...an epic chat, in fact. Finally, after about 3 hours online, there was a pause in her writing, and my cell phone rang. "Hello?" "Honey, I can't stand it . . . I know I shouldn't do it, but I have to see you...it's only gonna be one time, baby, you know that...but I can't stand it. I have to see your eyes. I want your blood, and your tongue." Wow. I didn't know what to say. Yes I did. "I'm right here, Mistress . . . I am always yours," I'd said. She showed up about an hour later, and when I let her in, she looked like she was still debating whether or not she should be here. So, once the door closed, I dropped to my knees and said, "Welcome, Mistress." "Get up," she said. I pulled myself to my feet, and suddenly was engulfed by her. Her lips fused to mine, her tongue hit my brain, and I was lost. I moaned like a helpless little girl, and felt my very essence surrender to her. It was amazing, that kiss. "Strip, my bitch," she said, as she licked my ear gently. My clothes were off me almost before she finished speaking, and she stepped back and looked at me. "I'm gonna put you on a diet. I want you skinnier," she mused. "On your knees, you slut." I instantly dropped back to my knees, and I looked up at her attentively. "Alright, baby...time to show you again who your owner is." Her voice was not loud, but there was no argument. Her shirt came off, then her bra (God, I love her nipples) and finally her jeans. My eyes focused on the panties that were suddenly revealed...they were soaked. She pulled my head into them, rubbing my face all over the sodden fabric. "That's the smell of your owner, baby...say it for me, say it for Mistress..." she softly cajoled. "Oh god, Mistress, yes Mistress, you are my owner, my only owner...I am only for you, my Mistress, for no other but you..." my voice trailed off, I didn't know what else to say; I was hers, and only and irrevocably hers, and we both knew it. Of course, we had both known it before she even walked in the front door. She pulled my face out of her panties, and yanked them all the way down, then stood up, the sopping fabric dangling from her hand. Her face was glowing with love and arousal; a beautiful combination of sweaty lust mixed with pure joy, an evil glint in her eye from what she had planned, combined with a motherly love to protect and cherish me. Man, I really was lost, and man, I really loved it. And her. Her hand came forward...she held the panties against my mouth...I opened, she slid them inside. "Clean them, bitch...clean them well...suck all that Mistress juice out of them...every drop makes you more mine," she said, almost hypnotically. She pulled me back up...and told me to fetch her the strapon. I almost ran for it. She'd told me which one she wanted me to buy, some months back, and had directed me on many occasions over chat or phone to fuck myself with it...but she hadn't even seen it yet. I prayed it was clean...and it was...I ran back with it, hit my knees, presenting it to her. She looked at me sternly. "Put it on me, you little sissy...show your Mistress you know what to do with her cock." I put it on her, slowly adjusting it for the correct fit, half the length of the dildo would bury itself inside her, once I attached it. The harness took a moment or two to get right, then it was time for the dildo. "Get it wet first, my sissy slut...suck that dildo for your owner," she growled...I could tell she was really getting into it deeply. I laved it all over with my tongue, and pulled it into my mouth, getting it nice and wet. Then, carefully, I slid it into Mistress' soft warm beautiful wetness. She sighed as it went in, and moaned when I snapped it in place. Her eyes pulled back into focus on my face a moment later. "Better get the other part wet too, my little bitch boy...I'm about to finally make you my wife," she said, her arousal practically dripping off every word. I sucked my sissy boy best, got it as wet as I could, and then she slid it away. Her hand closed around the base, and she jiggled it gently. "Alright, my slave...time for the real deal. Get some pillows over here," she said, gesturing at the sofa. I pulled over a few, she placed a couple under her knees, some under mine, and tossed the last one over my head onto the floor. "Put your head on that, whore, I don't want to hear any screams," she groaned, as she began to rub the moist dildo on my ass. I did as I was told, glad to have something to bite into, if necessary. She rubbed the head of the big black dildo up and down...slowly working it against my tight hole. She wedged it in slightly, my teeth clenched; and then she relaxed slightly, and began to work the head around and around, slowly pulling at the tight little portal until it finally began to relax. A little further in, and a lot more swivelling around. It didn't hurt...in fact it felt pretty good, and the deeper she got, the better it felt. I felt bad for a moment, feeling like she was pleasuring me at her expense, and then was reminded (by her slowly increasing-in-volume moans) that the other end of the dildo was inside her, and moving exactly opposite to what was happening inside me. "Oh fuck, you little slut," she moaned, "Your ass feels so good...I love fucking you...oh baby I missed this so much...oh you are such a sissy whore for me...oh god baby . . . I'm coming already...." And she was; the words got incoherent, and her movements erratic, and finally, she collapsed across my back, her big beautiful brown jewels crushing against my back. "Ummm...oh my little white slave boy...oh god you made your Mistress come, baby..." She fell off to one side, pulling me over with her. She was still inside me, just barely. She held me to her, kissing, licking and biting at my shoulders slowly. Suddenly, she slid the dildo back in, my ass having been relaxed. She fumbled around her waist, I heard a soft curse or two, and then she rolled away, leaving the harness and dildo behind. She gestured at me to raise up, and she slid herself under my head, her dripping, swollen mound suddenly just below me. "Wiggle your ass around on that dildo while you lick your Mistress, wifey-boy. Once I've come once or twice more, I may get back to getting your sorry ass off. I've been wanting to watch you lick up your come in person for a long while, now." She let her head fall back onto the pillows, and pulled my hands up to her nipples. I rolled and pulled at them softly while I buried my face in her essence. I didn't 'go to town' on her...not right after she'd already come. Instead I licked slowly, long strokes, covering her entirely. Her lips really were swollen, and as I delved deeper, they seemed to softly close over my face, like they were pulling me in. Licking slowly like that, I felt her come 3 more times in the next half hour or so. I paused after each one, then would tentatively begin licking again, and soon her hands would be back on my head, pulling me into her. But finally, she pulled my head away, and panted, "Get up here and kiss me, fool." She lapped at my face as we kissed, and soon, both of our faces were moist and redolent of her magical smell. We lay together, making out slowly and thoroughly...and then her hand found my cock...and started toying with me. Her other hand began wandering as well. Before too long, I found myself on my back, her teeth working at my nipples, her hands flowing over me like water, poking at my ass, grabbing and clutching my balls, and generally making me whimper in pain and desire. She held me at the razor's edge for a while, and finally put me over the edge when she raised up from the nipple that she had been pulling and biting and working so very very hard at, and I looked at her mouth, her lovely mouth...and it was moist with my blood. I looked up into her eyes...and saw only myself, helpless inside her, totally lost to her, body, mind, and soul. Then she kissed me...and I lapped at my own blood on her lips as I cried out her name as I came, the most amazing, soul searing beauty of an orgasm I had ever had. She spent the night, but left the next morning after a quiet breakfast. It was months before I would actually see her in person again. But the stories got ever hotter...and I began to run short on good hiding places for her lingerie, which I began wearing under my clothes on a daily basis. I was hers, again. Dark Maggie #04 I had spent most of the weekend doing chores, waiting for Mistress to return from a weekend touchy feely department thing from her school department. As directed, I was doing the dishes, vacuuming, generally cleaning and doing the laundry, all while dressed as Mistress wanted to see me; in her panties, with a lightweight chain connecting my nipple piercings. I was directed to wear clamps while vacuuming and doing the dishes. Mistress had me take occasional photos and send them to her phone. When she called at lunchtime, she gave me some additional instructions: "Put in your plug, slut. I want you to spend the rest of the afternoon stretching yourself for me. I'm soaking wet at the thought of fucking my bitch when I get done with this shit." And then she was off to the afternoon session. I knew that she was serious; she really hated gatherings like the one she was at, so she'd have some shit to work off when she got home. I wanted to make sure that all was clean and prepped before she got here. Hell, I had to make sure. I love suffering for Mistress, but not failing her. I slipped in the plug, the one she had been training me with, and pulled her thong back up tightly into my ass, holding it in tight. I was glad I had finished all the outside chores, I would have been self-conscious working outside with it in place, it certainly made walking a little...different. I had just finished the last of my chores when the alarm I had set went off. 6 o'clock. She'd be leaving the seminar any minute. She might call, she might not. In fact, since she liked trying to surprise me with something unfinished, she probably wouldn't call unless she was hungry, in which case... Ah, the cell phone. Indeed, she was hungry, she said she'd be home in about 45 minutes, she wanted a bottle of wine to go with dinner. "What kind of wine will go with tonight's dinner, baby?" she giggled. Damn. I didn't actually have that worked out, I was figuring to come up with it if she called. As I dashed towards the fridge, I made some mental calculations and realized I had only one choice, given the time. "My love, I was thinking of some of that spicy chicken sausage and, um, some . . . noodles (whew, I do have some) with whatever veggie suit's your fancy," was my hurried response. "Ha! You haven't worked it out, yet, have you? Gotcha, wifeyboy!" She was out and out laughing, now. I had to agree as I chuckled along with her. "I tell you what, babe - just heat up the grill and we'll have some of those sausages that way, with a bun." She chuckled again. "Cause I feel like some hot sausage stuffed into a warm steamy pair of buns." "In that case, my Mistress love, a robust red with lots of tannins to kill the heat," I suggested. We worked out the rest of the meal, and I was cooking as we talked. When she got to the store, I asked her to pick up a few items, off she went, and off I went. By the time I heard the garage door, I was as ready as I could be. "Mmmmmm . . . if those idiots knew what was waiting for me at home, they'd bust a gut!" Came her voice from the door. Instantly, I was there. A kiss, a hug, grabbing her gear and stowing it...some more kisses..."Yeah, slave, they'd shit a brick," she smiled at the thought. "Look at you - my slutty wife, all dressed in my panties and chains. Good thing I love it....now get these nasty shoes off and rub these feet, while you open this wine and pour it for me and get in between my legs...hmmm. I guess you can't do ALL that at once. Let's start with the shoes." The shoes, the slacks, the blouse, left her stockings and garters on, she loves wearing those. Then the wine, then the feet, then the . . . "There is food on the horizon, right?" she moaned, as I rubbed and kneaded her sore feet. "Anytime you say, Mistress," knowing that it will take only a few minutes to grill the sausages. "Ummm....well unless you are prepared to go another couple of hours without eating, we better do it now," she muses, looking at me speculatively. God I love those eyes. "Because otherwise you're gonna be licking a loong time." I assure her that dinner will be ready in a flash, and I throw the dogs on the grill outside, which is blazing and ready to go. The salad, straight classic american iceberg and butter lettuce, with some walnuts, blue cheese and my own secret dressing. Out of the fridge, onto the table. Flip the sausages. Buns steaming gently. By the time she saunters into the dining area, tying her robe around herself, dinner is ready and waiting. So am I, to serve her. Which I do. She munches, pronounces it edible, and gestures to me to eat. I sit down at my place, and we eat. She tells me about the seminar, compliments me on the house, and pretty soon we are both staring at empty plates. Not for long, I whisk them away, and while giving them a quick rinse, I feel her hands snake around me, closing on my nipples, twisting them gently. I moan and shudder, wanting to drop to my knees, but I know better. She plays with them, while she bites at my shoulders. "Finish up quick, baby, and meet me in the bedroom," she croons softly in my ear. I finish quickly indeed, practically throwing things into the dishwasher. Finally, I'm standing at the door, and she beckons me in. She is back to the garter belt and stockings. Her panties are gone, and she has been playing with herself with a feeldoe dildo. We have a couple of them. She holds one up to me, growls "Put it on, slave. I want you to fuck me hard, and for a long time. I'm gonna tire your ass out while I lay back. Then I'm gonna fuck your ass into next week." I pull out the plug, and insert the stub end of the dildo into my ass. It slides past the sphincter pretty easily - as it should, I've been holding that plug up there for nearly 5 hours. I clench back down on it, and moan slightly. Mistress hears, smiles a secret smile. "Your training is coming along so well, baby," she whispers. "You really love fucking your Mistress with that thing, don't you, wifey mine? Well, I love it too...it's so much harder than your cock. . . .and it can fuck me until you can't move anymore." I move up on the bed over her, she spreads her legs in missionary position, and I rub the dildo over and around her lips, soaking up the juices on the head before slowly slipping it in. "Oh yes, baby . . . oh my sweet slut . . .oh baby, fuck your Mistress nice and slow. . . fuck my black pussy my white bitch boy . . ." she moans, a continuous stream of words all guaranteed to make my own desire rise. I feel her hands reach up, and her fingernails bite into my nipples brutally, and I shudder as I struggle to keep her rhythm. My own cock, not really hard, is rubbing back and forth across her clit and lips while the dildo parts her and burrows deep. Balls deep, in fact. My balls are smacking against her with every stroke. Mistress notices, and starts to help me along, grasping my hips and yanking them into her, my balls crunching against her drenched lips. Every stroke is provoking a grunt or moan of pain from me, and soon, from Mistress, as well. "Oh yeah, baby . . . oh you fucking sissy boy, fuck your Mistress, make her come, baby..." She says, almost incoherent now. And then suddenly, she is shaking violently, her pussy spasming uncontrollably, her hands locking around my back, holding me tight. I look up at her, her face is clenched tight, and then her eyes fly open with a snap, and the moaning stops abruptly. Her mouth opens. . .wider...wider...her eyes too...and then, she screams out and her hips, suddenly stilled along with her moaning, now redoubles, and she is utterly lost to the orgasm. I stop, and wait, and move slowly inside her as she calms down. Her eyes open again, and I know she wants a kiss. So do I...and I know that we're only at intermission. We kiss, and cuddle. and then she produces another of our dildos from somewhere under the covers. "Roll over, sweetheart, Mistress wants your ass now," she said as she inserted the short end into her drooling pussy. "Here, sweetie, c'mere baby. . .suck on momma's cock, honey . . ." she giggled. As it approaches my face, and I begin to lick, I think about how lucky I am, and how much I love her - and the things she makes me do for her. I'll keep thinking that, all the while Mistress fucks my ass with her hard black rubber cock. And I'm still thanking the stars above for Mistress while my helpless cock releases it's load all over her hand, and I'm licking up my mess off her...and then licking up her mess off her...and pretty soon we're at it again. I do love being her slave.