2 comments/ 28277 views/ 1 favorites I Dream of Mistress By: abbeynormal It had been a long day of chasing criminals and then doing paperwork and Ray Callum was completely exhausted by the time he returned to his apartment. He fixed a sandwich but was almost too tired to eat it. Leaving half of it on a plate, he went to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. When the water began to cool, he shut it off and dried himself thoroughly. He walked across the hall to his bedroom and slid on a snug pair of boxer briefs and then lay down on the bed. Another cop had taught him the technique of directed dreaming and how to visualize what he wanted in order to bring it into his life. Today he used it to envision the petite, sassy civilian aide with brown hair and brown eyes who worked in his division. He recalled how she perched on whatever desk suited her with her short skirts and midriff baring tops; how her hips wiggled when she walked. He then dreamed of being laid across her lap as she spanked him for some minor infraction. He let the fantasy continue to being stripped down to a leather G-string and in four-point restraints while she flogged him endlessly. Ray could her laughter, never quite cruel but always taunting him as he writhed in exquisite pain. In this state he knew that the erection he had developed was not just in the dream but also in real life. He was rock hard with excitement and wanted only to be released from his bonds and demonstrate to his Mistress just how well he could fulfill her needs as well. "Do not cum, slave," he heard her taunt. "If you do, you will be punished." Somehow he knew that the discipline would have nothing to do with corporal punishment and would most likely mean banishment from her presence. "Please," he begged. "I'm so close." "I know you are. And close is where you'll stay for now." The flogging stopped and soft warm hands roamed his chest and abdomen. He could feel her soft full breasts press against his lower back as she embraced him from behind and soothed him with loving touches and soft words. His erection was just as firm though he no longer quite felt the urgency of an impending orgasm. He was just beginning to relax when her fingers grabbed his nipples and twisted them cruelly. The urgency was back and he felt wetness oozing out the head of his penis and running down the shaft. She laughed again in her marvelous way before picking up a crop and applied swift firm lashes of it to his nipples. Though he tried to remain silent he couldn't hold back. "Please!" he shouted. "I'm begging you to let me cum." "Beg more," she hissed as she continued to torture his chest. "Mistress Kali, if I could, I'd get down on my knees, promise you the world and then deliver it on a silver platter. Just please let me cum." Instantly his restraints were released and he fell to his knees to kiss her feet and offer his thanks for the marvelous torture. She took his chin in her hand and lifted it so he looked directly into her stern face. "You mentioned something about giving me the world on a silver platter," she reminded him. "Yes, Mistress. What would you have me do for you?" "I think you should give me an orgasm using only your mouth. And you are not permitted to cum until I do. Do you understand?" "Clearly." "Then lie down. I want to sit on your face." He complied instantly and was nearly smothered in her soft wet folds. It was clear to him that their activity had been as exciting to her as it was to him. He eagerly lapped up her wetness and inhaled deeply of her sweet scent. His skills in this area were well honed and he knew exactly what kind of sensations brought her the most pleasure. His tongue and lips skillfully manipulated all her sensitive spots until she was gasping and panting with delight. Despite the fact that she was writhing and squirming hard above him, and animalistic noises escaped her mouth, he managed to contain his own arousal. At first he simply focused all his concentration on the few square inches of her flesh that he was permitted to touch, and in such a limiting way, but at the end it was simply by sheer willpower that he held back his orgasm. His erection was so stiff and his balls so tight, that he groaned as she finally sighed in contentment and then stood above him. Ray hoped she would now finally grant him the release he sought but she simply took a deep breath to collect herself and then walked away, leaving him prostrate on the floor. Another groan caught her attention and she turned to look at him, or more specifically, the bulge that threatened to burst from his G-string. "Oh, go ahead and take care of that," she instructed waving a hand dismissively in his direction. While he fervently hoped she would, in some way, assist him with that task, he knew better than to ask for it. A small nearly silent sigh escaped his lips as her pulled off the restraining garment, reached for his penis and began to quickly stroke himself. He'd been on the edge of an orgasm for so long that he knew he would finish quickly. Even though he usually preferred to draw out his self-pleasuring, this was not the time for such things. He just wanted the release that a climax would bring and in minutes he achieved it. His entire body convulsed as white hot semen burst forth from him, spattering his chest and abdomen. He groaned again, this time much louder with the force of his ejaculation and continued to milk himself dry. When he was finished and his body melded limply into the carpet, he heard a sound and turned his head towards the source. Mistress Kali was standing in the doorway. Her features were obscured due to the strong light at her back but he recognized her shape instantly. She was applauding him. "Very good, slave." Her voice was faint and the vision of her was fading from him. He knew the dream was done. At first he was sad to see it end but he'd learned that the best way to bring something into his life was to see it already there and this was just a first step in that process. Ray felt himself slowly becoming conscious again and only then realized that he had fallen asleep with his arms raised and feet spread in a classic flogging position, as if he'd been cuffed to a St. Andrew's cross. "Jesus, no wonder the dream seemed so real", he muttered to himself, before assessing the rest of his surroundings. The room was dark and he checked the clock to see if he had overslept. The duvet was damp under his body and he surmised that he must have perspired during his dream since he had dried himself thoroughly after his shower. And he knew he was going to have to change into another pair of briefs. - The End - Please take a moment to vote and (more importantly) drop me an email to let me know what you thought. I don't care if you loved it or hated it. Just tell me why. I can't write better stories if I don't know what's good and what's crap. Thank you kindly in advance. I Dream of Mistress She stepped from the car with her silky hair around her head like a halo, but this woman was definitely not an angel. My leash, rather firmly attached to my ever firm cock, pulled me out of the car. As my naked body stepped out into public I did not even show a sign of embarrassment. Mistress had trained me well over the last few weeks—at least I think they were weeks. Time has had little meaning since I met Mistress Shanna. Mistress Shanna was my darkest desire in more ways than one. She was pure ebony perfection. Her eyes were penetrating, her hair long and silky, her legs a glorious gift from her creator, her breasts natural though abnormally large and her attitude one that demanded absolute, unhesitating, unquestioned obedience. From the moment I met Mistress I was completely mesmerized by her like a mouse by a king cobra. She towered, or at least it seemed, over my 6' frame and all at once I felt the need to drop to my knees in service to her. That is exactly what I did too. I don't know why but it was as if I suddenly had no will of my own—nor wished to have one—and I had her inside my mind. I could practically hear Mistress in my head though she had yet to say a word to me. How she exercised such control over me without a word is beyond me. She simply did. My mind seemed to cloud over at first and, when the clouds cleared, afterwards it seemed that I was simply property for her to do with as she wished. Back to the present: I stepped from the car with my diamond encrusted cock leash attached to my rigid member. Mistress led me into the club for tonights activities. Now I know what you are thinking and you are correct. This is a sex club. This sex club, tonight anyways, was dedicated to one thing and one thing only: the domination of white males by women of color. So, as you'll easily guess, yes I am white. What you do not know about me though—and what Mistress hasn't yet figured out—is that I am a switch. I love to top women as well as bottom for them. As it happened I was in a very unusual place in my life when Mistress took hold of me. I had just lost my previous Mistress to an auto accident and I was sad as well as feeling both very vulnerable and submissive. Lucky for me Mistress Shanna was known to me through my previous Mistress. They were friends who shared me at their favorite sex club. Mistress Shanna decided that tonight I was to be the main attraction at the club. My previous Mistress liked men with long hair so mine was well-cared for and quite long. It actually reached my ankles and was quite strong. Now, you may ask, "Why mention his hair?" The simple answer is that before we left Mistress placed it in a rather tight and thick braid so I could be suspended by it and that is how I am now. I have my arms separated by a spreader bar, locked in the cuffs at the end, my legs in cuffs but not attached to each other and am suspended by my hair which binds me to the wall. Of course the weight of my legs was torturous—especially as my leg muscles are quite large—however there was little time for them to bother me as I was fucked in my ass often and, basically, non-stop all night long. As each Mistress took their turn at my ass I was repeatedly forced forward then, by force of gravity backwards on their man-made prongs. Each Mistress tried to thrust hard enough to get their cock to come out of my mouth. Aside from my extremely long hair I also had something else Mistress loved—my cock. So, it should be no surprise, that which my ass being violated -and me naked and bound—that I had a very erect member which the women delighted in milking with every chance they got. Each Mistress pulled at my cock. Or tortured it. Or had her lips, or the lips of her slave, wrapped around it. My constant state of arousal was a result of various Mistresses constant teasing, sexual toys, sexual enhancement surgery and a twice daily Viagra and Ecstasy cocktail. Mistress Shanna wanted my already prodigious size augmented to please her greater. So, now, both she and her friends benefit from by 24" long, 8" around cock on a regular basis. My name is Frank but Mistress just calls me slave or freak. Tonight, hanging by my hair, I had time to think about my lot in life. It was then that it hit me. I truly enjoy being a sex toy for women. Mistress Shanna decided, whilst I was lost in thought, to raise my arousal level a bit by adding a parachute ball stretcher and several pounds of weight to it. By the time I was let down Mistress had made sure that she put the largest, thickest, vibrating cock she could find in my ass and secured it using my long tresses in such a way that movement forced it deeper in my ass thus further stimulating me. She made sure I moved a lot as well by encouraging me with a riding crop in just the right places. No matter whether her crop hit me in the ass, chest, thighs or penis I moved, the only question being how much. Trust me; a good shot to the head of your penis will really move you. After a long night at the club Mistress Shanna led me out by my still rampant, though rather raw, member. The limousine pulled away from the curb with Mistress going down on me and inserting even kinkier thoughts into my mind. I could only wonder what she would do when she got me back into her dungeon. Mistress Shanna's dungeon was as lavishly equipped as the old Irish castle that she lived in. It was indeed old. In fact it dated back to the fifth century but had been updated inside to the 22nd, except for the devious devices in the dungeon—those dated to the Inquisition (some of which came from Spain). Mistress led me to a rotating St. Andrew's cross. She bound me to it face first and rather tightly. The cat-o-nine tails fell on my ass hard, fast and in rapid succession. It bounced from one asscheek to the other and back. Now, having, learned the feel of each of Mistress' toys in the past, I knew that this cat was made from a very nice and supple cowhide leather. It was one of her more gentle cats, some of her other more exotic cats came in harsher materials. She had an elephant hide one, a rhinoceros skin one, a buffalo skin one and many others. She even has a whole set of serious cats and floggers made with such diverse materials as wood, acrylic, stainless steel and plastic. What type of material and toy she used on me depended on her mood. Unfortunately, her mood was not entirely dependent on me. More than once she came home from work just to get her frustrations out and I paid dearly for her mood in some of the worst ways. I suppose some would say that she was a cruel Mistress, but, since she trained me, she trained me to serve her in every way—even if it meant being her whipping boy and pain slut. I moaned with a mix of great pleasure and pain as Mistress used her well worn whip on my asscheeks. Being the pain slut that Mistress trained me to be my cock was hard and throbbing—even though it was not in the best position to be used currently. Mistress' St. Andrew's cross was free standing, but as such it was impossible to do much with my cock sticking through it as long as it was rotating. Once it stopped though I was completely available for use. Mistress loved me very much, but she also wanted to make sure that everyone knew I was her property. And, as if the freakish size augmentation of my cock was not enough, Mistress had my cock tattooed with a very large open-mouthed dragon—and its mouth was the head of my penis. Mistress made sure that my dragon spit and spit often. Today was slightly different from most days; we were alone—unless you counted the camera recording my every agony straight to disc. Mistress recorded the entire session of her tattooing my cock. I think she really liked the screams as well as the moans coming from me. Of course to tattoo me like this she had to keep me hard the whole time. Once Mistress had me half-hard she attached a very tight ball harness and an even tighter Gates of Hell to keep me fully hard. As Mistress began the worst part of any tattoo, the outline, I screamed in severe agony. Mistress did not believe in painkillers!!!! Staying hard for so long was not a problem—Mistress simply, besides putting me in a harness and Gates of Hell, gave me her special Viagra cocktail. However, staying hard that long in a Gates of Hell was a problem. Anyone who has been in one for an extended time knows that they chafe and can rub the skin right off of your cock. As you can imagine once the skin rubs off your cock tattooing it becomes exceedingly more painful. My screams intensified the longer the outline took. Mistress made sure she took a long time. Mistress Shanna was a bit of a Goth. She lived the Goth lifestyle to the extreme to say the least. Her black lipstick, dark makeup and Johnny Cash meets the BDSM lifestyle black wardrobe was always in evidence. I knew once she'd finished tattooing me I'd be polishing her 9" black stiletto come fuck me heels with my tongue. It took Mistress 3 hours to complete the outline of my new tattoo. When she finished it she removed my cock restraints so she could view it in all its glory. It was then that she let me know how proud of me she was for not passing out. She rewarded me by leaving her black lipstick on my cock as she sucked me deep in her throat as she could take my enormous cock and then swallowing every drop of my cum. I must admit I was delighted to see myself cum so much it made her gag a bit as the cum started pouring from her mouth while it overflowed down her chin and covered her breasts. Mistress loves the taste of my cum. I've never seen anyone so taken with the taste of the stuff. After finishing swallowing all my juices she proceeded to clean herself up and licked her fingers clean of my babymaking fluids until there was none left in evidence. I don't know who the bigger slut is. Is Mistress a bigger cum slut than I am a pain slut or vice versa? The next day, while we were both recuperating, Mistress was very gentle with me. Instead of torturing me she made love to me the whole day long. She did not even put me in bondage so I was free to worship her body in any way I wanted to do so. I did what every good slut does for his Mistress—I ate my cum, what was left, after making love to Mistress, off of her and out of her pussy. Mistress always cums hard and often when I do this. Mistress Shanna loved smothering me between her thighs and pushing my face in her deeply. The pressure on the sides of my head, as well as the back, was incredible. I ate Mistress for so long that when I stopped she continued to cum for another hour straight. I love my Mistress, she is the best Mistress that there is. At night, when I sleep chained at the end of Mistress' bed, I dream of how I can further please her. What will I do to please her tomorrow? I don't know yet, but I can't wait for it either. So you will have to pardon me while I leave now to eat out her pussy some more and give her a few good wet dreams.