0 comments/ 19479 views/ 0 favorites Her Present By: twistedvanilla The girl kneeled in the middle of the floor, upturned palms resting on wide spread thighs, her heart-shaped bottom resting on her feet. The scrap of silk she wore accentuated her full breasts, thrust forward by her slightly arched back. The hem barely threw a shadow over her pussy, which was completely exposed to view, framed by pale, silky thighs. With downcast eyes, she awaited His return. She knew she would be in trouble when He got home, and she hoped that finding her thus, in His favorite way, would lessen the punishment she was sure to receive. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. Almost time. In just a few minutes, He would be home and would discover what she had done. Pondering on it a moment, she couldn't really recall why she had done it, only that at the time, she felt she had no other choice. She'd been desperate. Startled at the sound of the front door latch clicking open, a flush covered her skin as she realized He was home. It was time to face the music. She listened intently as she heard His footsteps coming down the hall...held her breath as He stopped at the open door to His den. She knew He was looking at it, taking in the changes she had created, and growing angry with her...but hopefully not too angry, after all, she had only been trying to help. She heard His step again and let out the breath she forgot she was holding. She felt the vibration in the floor and knew He was only a step away from her. Saying nothing, she waited to be spoken to like the good slave she was. He said nothing for a few moments, just looking at His girl. Taking in the way she showed her submission to Him in the way she kneeled and was dressed. Sighing loudly, He realized He wasn't really angry with her, He understood why she'd done what she'd done. She'd been desperate, and He couldn't blame her for that. His den had been filthy and disgusting, and He should have cleaned it months ago... He could, however, blame her for not obeying Him. "Well, child, you know what's going to happen to you, don't you?" He asked her. He knew she hated being called 'child', she was 24 and often called 'cute' by her co-workers, and was carded each and every time they went out due to her young looks. "Yes, Sir. I will be punished in the manner you see fit." she answered. "Tell me why you are being punished, Little One. I want to make certain you realize why, and that you are going to learn your lesson." He sounded sternly disappointed in her. "I disobeyed Your orders never to go into or touch anything in Your den." she answered obediently. He chuckled and she risked a glance up at Him. "Before I administer your punishment, Little One, let me say you did a fine job of cleaning and organizing My clutter. And I'm sure when I'm trying to do some work I will have a much easier time of it now that I will be able to find things easily. However, the fact remains...you disobeyed me. And for that, you will be spanked." "Yes, Sir, thank You Sir." she said. He sat down on the couch and took a small leather flogger out of the end table drawer. She didn't move from her position until He ordered her to, and she swiftly obeyed. Dropping to her knees on the floor beside him, she leaned over across His lap and placed her hands on the floor. Hanging her head so that her cheek rested by His knee, she awaited her punishment. Quietly amazed and pleased at her response, He admired her bottom. A little big, but that's what He liked - a little 'cushion for the pushin'. Rubbing one of his dark hands over one pale cheek and then another, He smiled as her skin flushed a pink color, as it did every time He aroused her. Sometimes He wondered if she was deliberately naughty so that she would get punished...but no, she was well-behaved, obedient on the whole. Not bothering to warm her bottom up with his hand first, the leather cracked down with a sharp snap, and her back arched and bottom jerked in response. A small whimper escaped her mouth, but she retained her position across His lap. Five more times He paddled her bottom, each smack leaving a larger portion of her bottom a deep, dull red. He rubbed her butt cheeks in turn between each spank, loving the feel of the heated flesh. He told her she could stand now and face Him, her punishment was over. Now, it was time for her reward for helping Him out, even though He hadn't wanted her to. It was still something she should be rewarded for. "I know that you don't enjoy being spanked as a punishment, sweet, but I also know that when you are spanked your body becomes aroused. Let me take care of that for you. Kneel and make me hard, and you may ride my cock until you cum. Don't worry about making me cum, this time is just for you." Smiling, she dropped to her knees and freed His already half hard cock from His pants. Wasting no time, she used her tongue and teeth and lips, and sucked and nibbled until His breath drew through His teeth in a hiss. Then she sucked a little more, her tongue teasing the head and especially the slit on the tip, pushing Him. Her head bobbed up and down in His lap, fucking His cock with her mouth, suckling. He fisted His hands in her chestnut curls and pulled her head back. "That's enough, Little One. You may ride my cock now." His voice was hoarse with desire. His hands roughly helped pull her up and straddle His lap. He held His cock at the base while she lowered herself onto it, her warm wet cunt eating his cock. The sight of her lush curves and soft, pale skin against His dark skin, as always, aroused Him unbearably, even after their 3 years of marriage. He let go and placed His hands on her hips, pulling her down onto Him and then grinding His cock up into her. Her clit was mashed against His pelvis and His cock stirred her insides. She was already hot from having been spanked, her bottom was still tingling warmly, and it blossomed over her entire body with every thrust He made into her. His pinky finger found and gently entered her small asshole, fucking it in rythm with His thrusts into her cunt. Unable to contain her pleasure, her moans and grunts of pleasure echoed throughout the room. She begged for a little more, a little harder, pleaded in her breathless little voice that she knew He loved. He gave her what she wanted, fingers digging into one of her hips, one hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back so He could suck on her neck, chest and nipples. It only took a few minutes for her to cum, her cunt muscles spasming and convulsing around His swollen shaft. He ground His cock deeper, His fingers digging harder, into both her hips as He held her to Him, and let go inside her. His cum spurted deep in her cunt, and the feeling of the hot cream jetting against her cervix pushed her into another mini orgasm. Sighs of lustful relief filled the room, and she laid like a limp rag on His chest. He cradled her against Him, smiling to Himself, wondering when she would realize the gift He had given her. It only took a moment. She sat up abruptly, looking down at where His dark, unprotected cock was still sheathed within her little pink cunt. Her gaze jerked to His face and He smiled and nodded. A huge grin split her face and she hugged Him hard. "ThankYou...thankYou so much!" Her Present He'd just started to take off his parka in the waiting room when she came out from her inner office dressed in a heavy coat, a scarf around her throat. She smiled the smile she always smiles - the "psychiatrist to patient smile." She spoke to him in her friendly, professional therapist voice: bright, warm, hopeful. "Keep your parka on. Did you do as I asked?" "I didn't have to. Danica told me last Friday that Ruben was flying her up to Seattle on Saturday and they were going to spend the week there and in Vancouver. I took her to the airport Saturday morning. She won't be back until next Sunday night." Her smile increased, she moved closer to him, got into his personal space and spoke low so that only he could hear. She sounded enthusiastic. "Oh! Fantastic! It's more than I could have hoped for!" And then she caressed his face with her fingertips and open palm. The caress lingered just for a second or two but to him it suddenly felt like time had stopped. Something was radically different. He took note. Something had changed. And for the moment, he liked it. Aside from very occasional, very reserved hugs on days when sessions went well or were tough, she had never touched him in any other way. Now her palm and fingertips on his naked face...a strongly sensual thrill shuddered through his face, picked up speed in his chest and struck like a lightning bolt through his belly. It was the same thrill he got occasionally - only a 100 times stronger - when talking to her about his perception of their doctor/patient relationship; when considering her as his Mistress, in the context of Dominance/submission. In his bubble of stopped time he remembered their first session five years ago. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ First Therapy Session He felt so close to giving into the Abyss, that as Nietzsche said, would stare back if one stared long enough into it. He was weary, tired of struggling with the depression that covered him like a heavy blanket, smothering him. At the end of the session, accurately judging his immediate despair and depression, she asked, "Will you tell me, call me, text me, whatever, if you feel unsafe. You know, if you feel like harming yourself or others?" Without hesitation he answered, "No. But," he said, averting his eyes from her, feeling his face flush hot with blood, "I will tell you if you consent to be my Mistress." There then followed a hurried, worried, confusing discussion: "Mistress? You mean sexually? Professional ethics notwithstanding, we both have spouses!" "No. I mean that I will submit to you if I can consider our relationship as you being my Dominant and I am your submissive. And really, in the final analysis, you are dominant to me, to all your patients. You have the power, should you decide to be unethical and want to, to fuck with my head, with your other patients' heads. It can be...no, it is a very intimate relationship between Dominant and submissive. "But, right now, you're a simply a well paid mental whore... She cut him off. Her eyebrows shot up. She looked and felt somewhere between shocked and insulted. Grossly insulted. "...EXCUSE ME, Mr. Winslow?! Did you just call me a whore?!" "No..." "...That's funny because I distinctly heard 'well paid mental whore,' immediately preceded by 'you are!' "I can have you admitted to the hospital for tonight for your own safety and find you another psychiatrist..." "...No, wait. Please. Let me explain. What do prostitutes do?" He waited. Slowly she said, "They have intercourse with strangers for money?" He smiled slightly when she used the word 'intercourse.' It was a perfect set up. "And, when I, a total stranger, who by your professional ethics you are forbidden to ever have a 'normal' relationship with, pay you to hear my problems for 50 minutes. Well, in some quarters that is called 'social intercourse.' Just the act of talking between two or more people, forget about the hooker aspect, is 'social intercourse.' So. What does that make you?" He reminded her of the succinct context of his thinking, as she sat across from him, speechless and her eyes defocused. "Strangers. Us. We talk. We have social intercourse. I put my copay in cash on this little end table by where I sit...just like putting money on a pro's dresser. Pros never touch the cash until after the john leaves. "It's 'legal cover' for them - the cops can't say any money changed hands if the money's just laying out. "Anyway, more importantly, I think it's another layer of emotional protection that separates them from their john. Contrary to the movie "Pretty Woman," professionals don't have normal relations with their customers." He hesitated. "You do pick up my cash after I leave, don't you?" She blinked. He could see the realization of what he was implying slowly move from her eyes then across her face. "Oh...my...God," she said slowly, quietly. Then louder, with feeling, something close to anguish edging her voice, "Oh. Oh! Dear sweet God! I never..." He wanted to shock her but not hurt her. He thought she was nice, nice enough to trust. He cut in on her to spare her from analyzing the whole thing. "...Look!" he raised his voice and got her attention. "While I understand your ethics, I had a nasty experience with a hooker once, the summer after my first year in college, and since then, unless they might be a $5000 a night Victoria's Secret super model type - as if, only in my dreams - I don't care for hookers, for the pros. "But, and I know this sounds crazy, if I can think of you as my dominant and me as your submissive, which you know, you really are in the therapeutic relationship - even if no one is willing to face fact - I can sort of fool myself into thinking that we have a semi-normal societal relationship. So..." Very slowly. Again, he could see her trying to process the situation. "Ok... I'm... your...Mistress." "Then," he said without any hesitation, "I will do whatever you tell me to do. I will get a hold of you if I feel things are about to go sideways. And if you tell me to not, you know, kill myself, to get to the hospital, I will obey without any argument." It struck her as so bizarre and it was still very slippery for her to get her mind around this concept of Dominance and submission but, slowly, staring at him, she said, "Well... Alright then." That was five years ago. Two years ago he was talking about a sexual issue, specifically: though he believed himself to be a heterosexual dominant, he had this growing impulse to be submissive. In that session he asked her if she was still his Mistress as she had agreed to in their first session. He didn't give her time to respond. Instead, he suddenly got quite emotional. His voice broke and haltingly he said, "You know, aside from God, you know my every secret. You know things about me that my wife doesn't even know. And...you're the only person on the planet I would voluntarily submit to," he stopped. "Just to be clear, by 'submit' I mean you're the only person who I would do anything you told me to do without question. Anything I was told to do." The professional therapist smile disappeared. He interpreted her new look as one of benevolent power. Very quietly, in a voice that was rather cold, dispassionate and suffused with power, she responded simply, "I know." It was in his sincerity, in that moment, that he first experienced the funny but pleasant thrill in his belly. He knew what he said to her was actually true; real, totally and completely honest. Perhaps the most honest he had ever been, with himself or his wife, possibly in his entire life. Her look, the dispassionate voice and the power in it told him she truly knew her role and had accepted it. Beyond that he didn't know what to make of the what had just happened between them. She acknowledged her power, he his submission in that session. Several weeks after that session he was in the middle of a hypomanic crisis. Desperate for sexual contact he responded to an ad on Craigslist for anonymous sex with a man at a hotel near the airport. It was nearing 3AM. Within sight of the hotel he texted her. He was frightened out of his mind and yet he felt so completely possessed; totally compelled. He wanted to be used. Barebacked. No safe sex! To Hell with safe sex! All he could think of was oblivion. With a man. He'd never been with a man and in his current mental state it was all he could think of: being with a man. Shortly his phone rang. "Are you safe?" Her tone was compassionate but blunt. "Ye-yes. Yes, I'm safe. But...," he started to protest. She cut him off. "...Where are you now?" When he didn't immediately answer she coldly demanded, "Answer me. Now." "Um, at the Airport Marriott." "Get home right NOW. Call me when you get there and if I haven't heard from you in 30 minutes I'm calling the police. Do you understand?" "Yes, ma'am." Over the last two years they discussed his intense sexual impulses which expressed themselves during his periods of hypomania. He was surprised by the ephiphany he had: that he suddenly wanted to be with a man and to be used by him like a slave. Very surprised by his admission about his desire to be submissive with a man, she smiled knowingly and shook her head, "No. Scott, I've always considered you to be bisexual. The desire to submit, that is surprising." They discussed some of his theories interweaving lifestyle BDSM with true Christianity. Polyamory came up fairly often as he had let his wife of 20 plus years find a lover and the three of them formed a poly V. But they discussed these things only slightly more than current events, his many physical ailments and politics. And of course his continually fluctuating mental state between dark depression and the feelings that come with hypomania. After three years she had diagnosed him as having a milder form of bipolar disorder. Mental whore was never mentioned again and the whole Mistress/submissive thing never really came up again. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ "Uh, hey...are you in there?" she asked as she snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry," he said though he still seemed distant. "How are you feeling today?" She asked with concern. She held his face in her hands, by her fingertips, stared into his eyes - while another sensual thrill jolted through him. "Tell me," she asked quietly, sincere concern filling her voice. "How are you feeling today?" He smiled lamely in her loose grip, "Really?" "No, I want you to lie to me, bitch. Yes, really." She had never spoken to him like that before. He looked down, lightly pulling his naked facial skin slowly through her fingertip grasp and mumbled, "I'm feeling very vulnerable. Uh, I...well...I'm feeling very afraid. I don't know why. With Danica gone for the week, I'm already feeling alone, really alone." She touched him again, this time with thumb and index finger on his bearded chin, and raised his face up to where she could see his eyes. Another thrill rippled through him like rolling breakers on a beach; he almost closed his eyes to concentrate on the sensation. "You're feeling down but I think you've kicked over into your hypomania. How long were you online last night?" He refused to meet her eyes, "Just long enough to check my email." "Oh, liar, liar, thy trousers doth combust! How long? You said you'd do whatever I told you to do. I want an honest answer. Now." "Till about 7 this morning." "And what were we surfing?" Looking down at the floor again, "Uh, you know, tumblr, rough sex, gay men making out and fucking, sucking each other off..." "How many times did you come?" His face reddened and he looked up and around the waiting room, diligently avoiding her piercing gaze. "Well, you know, when I could get it up enough...I think maybe five times. I don't know...after 3 AM it was all sort of a blur. I think I even hot chatted with a married bisexual man for I don't know how long. I spun him a violent fantasy of him using Danica as he pleased and he spun one of him using me. We both got off. He was very dark. I loved it." "And did you do as I told you when you masturbated with a man? Did you lick your cum off your fingers?" His face got redder. He hesitated, scuffed his feet on the carpet. Finally, barely audibly, "Yes." "Yes, what?" She quietly demanded. "Yes, Mistress." She lifted his face up to her gaze again. Looked him in the eyes for what seemed like an eternity to him then she smiled broadly, not so innocently and quite pleased, "Good. Very good. We are going to do just fine today. Come on." She took him by the hand and led him out of the office, out of the building and to her Range Rover in the far back of the parking lot. The touch of her skin to his, their fingers interweaved, the grip of her hand on his: it was pure bliss, whatever was happening. They got in. "Not a word until we get to where we're going - our coffee shop." Arriving at a coffee shop where they would occasionally have their sessions, she unbuckled and turned to him. The first thing she did was take his face in her gentle grip and stare into his eyes again, very clinically. Unblinking, he stared back. Then she caressed his face. He closed his eyes to the pleasure this time. "Scott, do you remember in The Matrix when Morpheus told Neo about the Matrix and then offered him the red pill or the blue? One would make him forget. One would allow him to see what the Matrix was and start a new life?" He suddenly felt mentally sluggish and not himself - what psychiatry calls a "dissociative state." He knew something was radically different, likely radically wrong. It was almost like the panicked feeling he got the closer he got to the Airport Marriott that night. "Yes. Mistress." "Well, I am offering you something like it. If you accept my proposition, you will go inside and meet a man who you will spend the week with. If you don't want to disrupt your life to the extent of what I propose then I'll drive you back to your car..." He interrupted, feeling a sudden burst of alertness, reality reimposing itself. "Doctor, ...What's going on?" "Do you remember how many times you have either hinted or outright ask me if I could fix you up with one of my gay patients so you could lose your virginity with a man?" When he didn't answer she continued. "More times than I can count. And you remember all the talks we had about dominance and submission? Well, something in my life changed a few weeks ago. "My husband left me. He's moved out of the house and our lawyers are working on a divorce settlement. He left me because he caught me mid-orgasm with Dr. Yvette Belizaire, in our bed. "He's jealous and on top of me being unfaithful to him he was absolutely freaked out that I was in bed with a woman. With a woman almost half my age. With a woman who was pleasing me sexually. And quite well too. "Long story short, Dr. Belizaire has moved in with me. She's submissive to me. She's my lover and hopefully soon will be my wife. What I am offering you, since your depressions have been getting more severe, is you become our slave. Our sex slave. You'll be submissive to both of us. And both of us are going to explore what you've brought up before: what it feels like to actually own, control and use another human being for our pleasure, as if they were nothing more than an animal or object." He was stunned. Speechless. This was insane! He didn't know whether he should be happy or afraid. "But...you can't," he stuttered. "This... is... well... insane..." "I know what it is, Scott. If you're really afraid of me now, that's too bad. But I know what's going on. Don't worry." "Well, what about Danica? What about my life?" "I contacted Ruben last week. I just ask him, point blank, after introducing myself as your psychiatrist, if he would consider selling her to me. "He said yes! So...I am going to get your lovely wife, probably next week and turn her out. But first Yvette and Ruben and I are going to help her get both of your affairs in order and then you'll both vanish." His mind spun. This wasn't right but the whole thing, in his current state of mind, appealed to him. After telling him this bizarre tail, so calmly and so cooly, she just sat and watched him. After a few slow and awkward minutes of silence between them he slowly and quietly asked, "Who's in the coffee shop?" "His name is Dr. Devon Atherton. He started his medical career as a urologist then switched to anesthesia. He is brilliant and I think you'll find him depraved beyond your wildest dreams. He's my present to you. He's going to take your virgin ass and mouth and use you like you keep telling me you want. "He knows all about your meds and your ED and your whole complicated medical history. He knows my plans for you. He's my present to you, to start your new life as a slave. "He'll give you one safe word. If you use it, he stops everything immediately and brings you to me. Otherwise, he is going to debauch you like you have not dreamed." "Really? This isn't some complicated joke because...well, really? This is just nuts!" "Yes, really. I don't know that you can keep on struggling with your bipolar disorder; your depressions are getting worse and coming more often. It's only a matter until you attempt suicide. So, I'm taking responsibility for your life. And for Danica's life, at least for a while - I may sell her to someone. I haven't decided." "Look!" he almost shouted. "Jesus Christ! You haven't decided? About what you will do with Danica? " "That's right, Scott." Her voice was suddenly very cold, very dispassionate again. "She'll be a slave. An animal. A sexual an-i-mal. To be used for my pleasure and Yvette's or maybe I will sell her and they'll use her." She paused then added with a nasty tone in her voice, "Slaves are made to be used and sold." He couldn't believe what he just heard. His mind was reeling. "You talk about her like she is some sort of meat!" "Well," she grasp his chin again to make sure she had his undivided attention, "she will be. Like you. That's what you've wanted all this time, isn't it?" For a moment he didn't know what to say. She looked so...different. She was taking what she wanted and he suddenly had an eerie feeling about what life would be like with Dr. Claire and Dr. Belizaire as Mistresses. No love. Just use. Until he supposed he was no longer useful. FInally he found his voice and tried to sound...reasonable. "Ah...We both know this is beyond unethical and very illegal," He was breathing rapidly, on the verge of hyperventilating. His eyes were wide. Panic was returning. Mentally he was somewhere between complete dissociation and acute alertness. It was such a bizarre feeling. It was as if he had won the lottery but... He just couldn't process it all. "Does that matter to you? I mean, has the ethics and the legality ever mattered to you? You've been the one asking for this." He blinked. "No, I suppose it doesn't matter. I... I...," he was teetering between excitement that he was going to get to live out a fantasy, a mixture of his depression and the hypersexual impulse he had when he mentally swung to hypomania and - terror, on the brink of blind panic. That his fantasy was going to be lived out and ruin not only his therapist's career and life but his life and his wife's life. Maybe this insanity was going to ruin everyone it touched. Her Present She leaned toward him, shifting her grip to hold his head with both hands and kissed him, snaking her tongue into his mouth and sucking his tongue. She calculated that the kiss would either cause him to bolt in fear or it would relax him. Inside she smiled. She felt so cold, so in control. He would be nothing more than a live fucktoy. And she was certain it would give her an edge in dealing with Dr. Atherton. She felt Scott's body relax into the kiss and sag toward her. He let her continue to explore his mouth. When she broke the kiss he slumped back against the car door. "Yes," he said. The smile, the tenderness of her smile left her face and was replaced by a clearly powerful visage. Her voice was quiet, flat and cold, "Yes what?" "Yes, Mistress. I want to be your slave. No conditions." "Say it again! Use your name. Make it a pledge, an oath. I, Scott Winslow, want to be your slave...of my own free will. Say it!" she demanded. Back to his feeling of mental lethargy. He was feeling so completely dissociative, as if he were having a dream, perhaps a nightmare. He was looking around the car, his lips moving but not saying anything either aloud or coherent. "Scott. Obey me! Obey your Mistress! Say it! Now." He jumped at the harshness of the command. He was starting to cry, he thought. He was losing control. Was any of this real? "Scott! Say it!" she hissed, holding his face steady, their faces almost touching. He felt her breath on his nose and lips. Could feel her stare. "Jesus," he half whispered to himself, "this must be real...Uh! I'm sorry Mistress. I, Scott Winslow, of my own free will, give myself to you as your sex slave. Is...is that okay? Mistress? Suddenly her voice was soothing. "It was very good, Scott. Very good." She sounded happy, looked happy. He felt happy but was unclear why. He should of had a great weight of wrongness lifted from him upon his declaration but... The next time she spoke her voice was back to cold and dispassionate. "Sign this...cunt." "What....what is it?" "You're giving me your power of attorney." He started to ask a question but both her look and her tone stopped him. "From now on, you do not speak unless you are spoken to. And your name is no longer Scott. Humans have names. Slaves don't. You're whatever me or Yvette or the man who will break you wants to call you. Is that all understood, little bitch?" "Yes, Mistress." "Good. Now go to your temporary Master and enjoy my gift to you." She watched him enter the shop then she drove home where 'Vette was waiting for her. On the way, she did her best to not think about him or worry about him. She mostly succeeded. When she got home though, Yvette greeted her at the front door, naked except for a leather dog collar. Yvette posed a question that suddenly jarred Dr. Robin Claire, M.D., back to the reality of the moment. It was the tone, as much as the content of the question that suddenly bothered her. Yvette, asked rather bluntly, rather like someone asking about a sick dog at the vet's, asked, "So how's our fuck meat? Everything go ok?" The question was a momentary return to sanity. She suddenly felt sick. What had she done to one of her patients? What was she doing, period? What was happening to her? Her mind began to spin, dissociatively as Scott's had. But, when Yvette knelt in front of her mistress and proceeded to tunnel under her skirt to lick at her sex, Robin forgot all about worry. And as Yvette snaked her tongue between Robin's swollen and slick labia, along with two fingers deep into her sex, which she slowly drug across the roof of Robin's cunt, the panic disappeared too. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Devon Atherton watched Dr. Claire leave the parking lot. He almost pinched himself to make sure this was real. He had arranged for Yvette and Robin to meet two months before this day. He was fairly certain Yvette's need for a strong dominant woman in her life who would be her Mistress and Robin's desire to "walk on the wild side" would result in a coupling of two strongly sexual women who would be friendly to his depraved appetites. Unbeknownst to Yvette, she helped Atherton to seduce Robin into falling in lust - maybe love, who knew, he could only hope - with Yvette. That Robin's jealous, homophobic husband had caught his wife, mid orgasm, in bed with Yvette and stormed out, demanding divorce was icing on Atherton's cake. Atherton was looking for this coupling between Yvette and Robin, two women psychiatrists whom, he found out through "channels," had a large percentage of lesbian, gay and bisexual patients, to be one of a number of sources that could feed him "toys" - men or women, didn't matter to him as long as he could play with them and do whatever he wanted with them. When Robin brought Scott Winslow to him to pop this guy's gay cherry, so to speak, and to condition him to hard sexual use of all kinds was like a massive wet dream to Atherton. He couldn't believe his luck! There were no introductions. Dr. Atherton watched Scott get out of the Robin's car and walk to the door of the shop. He met Scott at the door, took him by the upper arm and led him to his car. "Not a word unless spoken to," was all Atherton said. Once in the car, Atherton pulled to a deserted part of the parking lot and stopped the car. He produced a rubber tourniquet and a syringe from the center console of the car. "Take off your parka. Roll up your sleeve." Scott complied, Atherton applied the tourniquet, found a vein in Scott's lower arm, stuck the needle in, hitting the vein the first time. "You're gonna take a little nap now." The plunger moved fast and the sensation of bliss came over him like a warm wave from the ocean then all was black. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Scott Winslow awoke in a soft bed on soft linens. The morning sun was streaming in and hit him right in the eyes. He moved his head to shield his eyes from the glare and that was when he noticed a Latino looking woman sitting in a chair by the bed. "Don't get up," she ordered as she got up and left the room. He had no intentions of moving. First, he felt good in bed. Secondly, he realized he was nude under the sheet and comforter. He took stock, trying to remember where he was and why. "So. You're awake," said an older attractive looking man that he recognized from somewhere but couldn't quite place. The man was smiling, hands on his hips. "That will be all Constance. I want lunch around 2 please. Please remember my guest will be drinking his. The Latino lady left without saying a word or looking at Scott. Atherton's smile increased. He sat on the side of the bed beside Scott. Atherton could see it in his eyes, "You don't have a fucking clue as to where you are or who I am, do you?" "Uh...no," Scott said, developing a vague fear. "Do you remember you have a doctor, she's a psychiatrist and she brought you to me?" Suddenly, memory seemed to wake up. He remembered everything right up to the shot. Atherton saw the realization cross his face. "Yes," he said, slowly, "I remember it all." "Good. Well, here's how things are going to work. Listen carefully. "Your one safe word is afghanistanbananastan. If you're in a position where you can't speak, tap something. The bed, the floor, etc. And if you can't move at that moment, well, you're just going to have to wait until I finish using you. "You get to use the safe word with me exactly once. I will stop whatever we are involved in and immediately bundle you up, get you to my car, sedate you as I did at the coffee shop and drive you to your Mistress' house and that will be that. "As for the safe and consensual part. I don't do either and I am told you won't mind. Is that true?" "Yes," Scott said tentatively. "Do you understand how it's going to be? "Yes, Master...?" "Very good. Master is always my name and you don't have one except bitch or cunt or slave or anything else I am in the mood to address you as. "Our time together is doing with you and to you anything that I want, that will bring me pleasure. That will mean fucking your face and ass regularly. Having you suck me, give me hand jobs, rim me, whatever. "I'm going to suck you on occasion. Do things to your cock that you likely have never done. Ever heard of 'sounds'?" "Yes Master." Atherton smirked. "I have a whole set and a deep erotic desire to see if I can get in your bladder while you're being masturbated. "I may give you drugs - for my pleasure - just to see how you will react. Some you will probably like and some you probably won't. I'll give you some drugs, probably when I am done with you today, to temporarily cure your ED and yes, I know your medical history and all your drugs. You'll just have to trust that I know what I am doing with my drugs and you. Or use the safe word. Understand?" Scott blinked, starting to feel slightly unreal. He swallowed in a dry throat. "Yes, Master." "One final thing. You've been under some powerful antipsychotics for the last day and a half. You've been sort of awake. Awake enough for me to give you enemas until you were clean on the inside. You should not remember any of the last 36 hours. Do you?" "No, Master." "Good," Atherton chuckled. "No solid food while you're here unless I give you permission. I do not want to have to fuck my way through your shit. You'll be getting protein shakes and electrolyte water. "Now," Atherton said with a touch of malevolence in his voice, "let's start with your deflowering." Atherton touched a switch in the wall panel and the room visibly dimmed. Either the blinds were on electric servos or Atherton had some sort of polarized glass in the windows. Regardless, the room was now in cool twilight. Atherton started to undress beside the bed. When the briefs came off, Atherton's erection bounced up to lay almost flat on his belly but as Scott looked at Atherton and his cock something was strange in the dim light. Scott just couldn't put his finger on it. Yet. As Atherton crawled naked into bed, Scott's breathing became rapid and shallow, his only thought was that was going to pass out. But Atherton took Scott in a lover's embrace and proceeded to french kiss him. Scott struggled against both Atherton's embrace and the kiss but suddenly he liked the feel of the questing, probing wet tongue in his mouth and one of Scott's hands urgently sought Atherton's erection, somewhere, pressed against his outer thigh. Atherton broke the kiss for a moment, smiled happily in Scott's face, "Um, good," he half whispered. "Oh! You found my cock! You're going to beg for it before you leave me. So will your wife, whom Dr. Claire contracted me to break, mentally, emotionally and sexually." He chuckled an evil sort of chuckle then proceeded to kiss Scott deeply but quickly not giving Scott any real time to think about his wife being here. "Just pretend like you're making love to her. Kiss me, stoke me, caress me. Just like her. It will be our foreplay." Atherton moved to kiss him again but stopped, millimeters from his lips. "Oh, and part of your bitch's breaking will be to watch, repeatedly, what I am doing to you and how much you enjoy it." Before Atherton could close the small gap between their mouths, Scott raised his head and closed with Atherton, taking his mouth with a fierceness. His hand slowly pumped Atherton's hard cock as he sucked Atherton's tongue, hearing Atherton moan in pleasure Scott wondered if sucking Atherton's cock would be anything like sucking his tongue. They wrestled with each other as lovers do. Atherton's cock felt good in Scott's hand and it felt even better to slowly pump it. Still, Scott felt there was something strange going on. They stroked, touched, kissed, massaged. Despite the cock in his hand Scott felt like he was making love "normally" and he was really getting into it. And, he had his hand pleasurably around Atherton's cock. How long this foreplay lasted, Scott had no idea. Suddenly Atherton said, as he was nuzzling Scott's throat, "Spread for me." They had been on their sides, front to front. On Atherton's command he pressed Scott toward his back and Scott positioned himself flat on his back. Atherton smiled at Scott's immediate obedience. He stuck two fingers in Scott's mouth. "Suck," was the command. "You want to get my fingers really wet." Atherton had moved from Scott's mouth and throat to pinch then suck one of his nipples. Prior to that moment Scott had never had particularly sensitive nipples but they were now and Scott moaned his pleasure. And with the moan, Atherton withdrew his fingers from Scott's mouth and inserted them into Scott's rectum... Her Present; Her Pet Mistress' POV "Have you picked her up yet, slave?" "No, my Mistress, we are still waiting for The Master's approval." "Who do you listen to? You listen to your Mistress not The Master, only I deal with him, understood? Now bring me Elarinya White!" Elarin's POV Wrapping a purple, and fluffy towel around me, I left the blue bathroom with it's powder blue mat, and dolphin shower curtain, and blue curtains for the windows. Stepping out into the hard wood floor my mouth dropped open, a male figure stood in the end of the hallway, dressed in all black from head to toe, I saw a slight smile come across his lips. "Elarinya White?" "It's Elarin, and yes. Why are you here, and who are you?" "I'm what everyone used to know me as Damon, and I have a woman who would like to met you, and I have a feeling she will like her little present." My bottom lip quivered, and I pushed back my orange red hair. "What little present?" "Why my dear you don't know? My Mistress wants you." * * * I was now blindfolded, half dressed in just underwear, and a sundress. Sitting in the back of a van, my life flashed by my eyes, it didn't take long, you would think twenty-three years would take longer than a minute, but not for Elarinya White, the person who has done the lest interesting stuff ever. This though has made my number one on my most exciting list though that's for sure. The van suddenly stopped, and someone shut off the engine, I tensed up, and the back door opened. "Come on now Elarin, get out of this dirty van, and met our Mistress, she is so very eager to met you finally." I reached my hand out to grab onto something, but I felt Damon's arm, I sighed, and grabbed onto it, he wrapped one hand around my waist, and practically threw me out of the van. "Hey! Be careful with her, she is the Mistress' now." I heard a voice yell from far off, Damon grumbled something under his breath, and ripped the blindfold off. I blinked, and stared at the mansion, it was red with white shutters, and a garden with beautiful, and well tended flowers. "Come on Red, lets not let Mistress wait, now shall we?" He shoved me forward, and I walked towards the tall marble steps, stepping up each one slowly, Damon pushed the door, and called out. "I'm back, and I have her." The was a sound of buzzing noise, it was all the people in the main hall talking at once, then everyone became silent, and Damon jerked my head towards the tall stair case that went up, and spilt of into two different directions. A woman with dressed in a tie dyed skirt, a billowy white shirt, and a scarf wrapped around her head. The end of it trailed down the back of her head, and laid on her bright golden honey hair. Eyes that saw too much, and knew all stared back at everyone in the room, including me. Well, more like especially me. Her eyes were sapphire gems, staring into, and knowing everything, like x-ray vision. She smiled at the room, and finally opened her mouth. "My little slaves have come through for me, no? Let me met her, come Damon, show me this present." She said in a deep French accent, somehow it worked perfectly for her, but I had a feeling that the accent was just used to be impressive, that she could, and probably would talk in an American accent. Damon grabbed my arm tightly, and started to pull me. "Ah! Damon, do not damage my present. She is mine, and I do suggest unless you like punishment that you hand her to me unharmed. Is that understood, slave?" Damon bent his head down, and loosened his hold on my arm. "Yes, my Mistress, I understand." "Remember slave, I'm not just your Mistress, I'm everyone's Mistress, there is no hogging, or jealous, or even possessive here, at lest only if involving with me. Everyone else is free game to be any of those's to, if they do not object." Damon nodded again, being reprieved once more didn't seem to work well with his cocky attitude. Everyone else diminished, and once more it was silent with just me, Damon, and the woman who everyone calls Mistress. We walked up the stairs quickly, and turned to the stairs on the right, we headed up them, and down the hallway with a long red hallway rug, we stopped at the end of the hall to see double doors. "Mistress, why are we taking her to your room? Shouldn't she be taken to the newbie area to be trained just for you?" The Mistress' hand flew out from beside her body, and slapped Damon across the cheek. "She is my present, and I am Mistress, I can do what I please, and I wish to train my present. Do not ask my motives again SLAVE. I am The Mistress no one has authority over me except for The Master. After I get my present into the room I wish for you to go down to the punishment area, and be punished for your insolence, your behavior is so newbie-as you call it-of you that I won't even punish you myself. Be dismissed." Damon nodded, and let go of me, he turned around, and walked down the stairs loyal. "Come on." The Mistress said in a compelling voice, she pushed the double door open, and swept her hand in. I walked in, and she did after me shutting the door quietly. I turned to her, and looked into her eyes, I saw her hand come out, and I shut my eyes waiting for the blow, but it never came, I opened them to see her hand hovering over my cheek before stroking the side of it tenderly with her finger. "I wouldn't look into my eyes around the others, it's considered a challenge." I looked down at her hand. "Thank you, and I won't." "Your not asking questions, why is that?" "Because you slapped Damon for asking questions." I felt her smile, and she tilted my head up so our eyes looked at each other. "You catch up quick Pet, well let me tell you some more rules. One don't look me into the eyes in front of the others. Two you only call me Mistress, nothing else unless I decide we have something that requires an exception. Three be respectful, and listen to me, and some of the other slaves. Four know that no one orders you around except for me. And finally five you do not sleep with anyone without my permission. This rule only applies to you, you are my personal Pet, and you shall not be shared unless I agree so, understand?" "Yes, Mistress." "Now is the time where I will allow questions, and answer them freely." "Thank you Mistress. Just two I think. Why me, what is so special about me that you think I'm worth as your present." She smiled, and brushed my hair back. "That is a question that I have no answer to Pet." "All right, Mistress, my last question. Is this a what's called a Master, and Submission relationship?" "Sorta Pet. With you, and me yes I'm thinking it will be, but for the others. I don't usually sleep with them, unless to break them in, or if they are a gift. I'm their Mistress as in like boss, and they are my slave, sometimes it's sexual, sometimes not." "Wait, Mistress one more question. Do you mean by that our relationship will be Master, and Sub does that mean sex? As in you want to have sex with me?" "Well, of course. Do I look like I'm straight? No, never mind ma petite fleur, come, and sit." Mistress sat down on the King size bed, and patted the seat next to her, she smiled at me. I sighed, and sat down next to her, she touches my cheek, and pushes my hair behind my ear. "Now Pet, tell me about yourself." "My names Elarin, I'm twenty-three years old, I have a collage degree in literature, and a minor in history. I live alone, I don't have a boyfriend, and my best friend is a girl from my hometown. I've never done anything more than that in my life, and I didn't think my life was all that interesting at lest until now." "Nice of you to sum up your existence in a minute. I suppose I should tell you who I am, pretense of Mistress put aside for a moment. My names Raina, I'm from France, around Paris. I've gone to college, and I am an expert on the human mind, and I'm a Gypsy." I my hands up. "Wait, Mistress, a Gypsy?" "Yeah like a true one, kind of like a witch, but not. More free spirited, and more likely to curse you." She smiled gently at me, and placed her hands on my shoulders, she closed her eyes for a moment, then they popped open. "Yes, you really will be something of great importance, my Pet. Now it's time for supper, no? Are you hungry Pet?" "Yes, Mistress very much so." "Good, but before supper..." She trailed off, and slipped a hand behind my head, she nodded, and leaned closer, my breathing stopped, and I stared at her in coming lips, unsure of what to do. When they connected with mine a sharp shock went through my body, and I felt Raina trail her finger nail down my bare leg. She pulled back, and looked at my flushed face, she chuckled. "Never kissed a woman I see." She commented, I touched my lips with my fingers, and bursted into uncontrollable tears. "Ah, no. Elarin, no. No tears, it's all right." She pulled me to her, and I buried my face in between her breasts not caring. "I-I'm sorry Mistress, I've never kissed..." "You have never kissed a woman, I know little one, I know. I'm sorry, but you have to be strong, Mistress can't protect you, and keep you happy if you are not strong." "I'll try to be, and I try not to disappoint you." "Somehow my Pet, I do not think you could ever disappoint me. Now dry those tears, time for supper, my lovely." I pulled back, and wiped my tears. "Thank you, Mistress." "For what my darling?" "For not getting angry with me, Mistress." She touched my forehead with her lips, and stood up. "I'm The Mistress Elarin, but I'm not cruel nor unable to understand things. I get it, you my little flower were taking from your home, and brought here to a new way of thinking, acting, understanding, and that is scary to some no? I am right, Mistress is alway right. Come we are keeping dinner." "Yes, Mistress." "But before, yes. We need you to change, you cannot run around in that, you are barely dressed, and I don't want to share you just yet, if ever." Raina walked over to her huge dresser, and pushed clothes around in it, she pulled out a bra, an off both shoulder shirt that was blue, and a pair of jeans. She turned around, and laid them on the bed. "Strip, and put theses on, your bra size is a C38, no?" I blushed, and nodded. "But Mistress, strip as in front of you?" "Yes, Pet did I not make myself clear. Strip." My lip quivered, and I looked back down at the clothing then back at her. "Are you going to disobey me so soon?" "I don't want to disobey you, Mistress." She nodded, and handed me the bra. "If you don't want to, then strip. Or will I have to punish my present before I even open the packaging." I shut my eyes, and nodded. I blushed as I lifted the bottom of my dress up, and over. I dropped it onto the bed, and kept my eyes to the ground, I heard Raina's tongue cluck. "Pet, look at me." I lifted my face up to hers, and covered my exposed breasts, my face turning even more crimson. "Y-yes, Mistress?" "Drop your arms Pet." "If you wish it, Mistress." I whispered, and dropped my arms, frowning. "Do you not like pleasing Mistress?" "That's not it, Mistress." "Then what has gotten you to want to disobey me so quickly, all I asked for you is to strip, and change clothing, nothing more for now." "Mistress, I'm... I've never let anyone see me naked before." Raina's eyebrows quirked up, and her face softened. "Are you a virgin, my flower?" "Yes, Mistress." I said, looking away, ashamed. I was surprised to see Raina's face brightened, and she took the bra from my hands, she put my arms through it, and clipped in it the back for me. She brushed my orange red hair way from my neck, exposing it, and pressed a tender kiss to it. She fixed the twisted straps of the bra, and walked back in front of me. "You will not be allowed to be alone with any male for as long as I say so, understood Pet?" "Yes, Mistress, and I know I'm not suppose to question your motives, but may I?" "Yes, just this once. I don't want any of the men getting ideas, some have intense fetishes, and virgins are one of many. I would not wish to hurt someone, but if they tried anything with you. Just it's better to have you safe, and if there is anything else like this, please tell me now." "Like what Mistress?" "Health problems, and metal state." "I have a heart murmur, and asthma. Also I am sure I'm sane, nothing emotional tragic happened to me." Raina nodded. "I will get to those problems soon. For now finishing getting dressed, I will go to the bathroom, and I expect you to be done by the time I get back. You have two minutes, and Raina, my Mistress walked out of the room.