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Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 01

By: Xantu



Missy gives herself to Mick. Her training begins. 

Enjoy

xantu


Missy knelt on the thin exercise pad and put the clothes pin on her lips. It was ten minutes until 8:00 but she could not wait any longer. Just the knowledge that he was going to walk into the house soon had her trembling with excitement.

It seemed like five weeks instead of just five days ago when she had watched him leave. Her heart had nearly broken as she watched him walk out the door leaving her alone to face her demons in this house that was not a home. 

He had called it a crypt and she had sensed the truth in his words. There was no comfort or safety here, only sadness and shame. She wasn't sure why she had come back to this place, but she suspected it was because she shied away from life. Unable to feel happy she hid from the rest of the world trying to hide from her sadness, existing without love, waiting to die.

If it had not been the long list of tasks he had left her with she suspected that she would have gone mad. He had stripped away all her carefully marshaled defenses, ripped open old wounds, pushing her to face her sadness. And then he had gone, leaving behind a list of tasks and the torture of seeing him and not being able to speak or touch him for the week.

Each day as she taught her English Writing class, it was bizarre to look up and see him sitting in the classroom of students, his stormy gray eyes watching, measuring yet saying nothing. He did not smile, nod, or give her any comfort. He had promised to call but there had been no call. She found looking at him too frightening, the urge to cry out to him, to beg him for something, anything to relieve her agony nearly overwhelming. Her eyes could look at anything but him. Her teaching suffered as she stammered and then mechanically recited her instructions to the class. 

She had cut and dyed her hair and worn the makeup the way he had told her too. It had caused quite a stir among her students. Several of the girls were enthusiastic, exclaiming that she looked so much more stylish with the braids. She was surprised when several of her coworkers had complimented her on the style change as well, but no one had made reference to Abby Sciuto, much to her relief.

When she had gotten the birth control injection and put the red apple on the desk, he had not even looked at it. 

She had thrown herself into the tasks he had set for her, cleaning the basement meticulously and then dusting and arranging all the porcelain figurines, and other mementoes of her mother's acquisitive life in orderly groups with labels. She had dug out many of the original sales slips and other documents from her mother's records and after looking on EBay and other internet sites she had written down an estimated asking price for many of them.

It had been hard going through her mother's things. Over and over she would hear her mother's voice harsh and shrill, forbidding her to touch them, calling her clumsy and careless, saying that she would break them. The impulse to smash them was still strong in her. She remembered all the times when she would sneak into the forbidden living room and secretly push a delicate figurine to the edge of its shelf and to her ecstatic terror and delight, leave it precariously balanced praying that it would fall and break once she was gone. Even now it was easier to hate this detritus of her mother's compulsive collecting than to hate her mother.

Starting her own EBay account had been much easier than she had anticipated. She bought a simple digital camera and practiced taking pictures, found an image hosting site and set up a PayPal account. She had put up almost two dozen items for auction and she was starting to enjoy the thrill of seeing that people were actually bidding. The idea that soon these loathsome little things would soon be cluttering up someone else's lives was intoxicating.

It had been hard to keep in touch with missy. Each time she handled her mother's things, baby Sarah would whine and push at her consciousness. The impulse to touch herself, to feel again the rush of freedom and excitement that kept missy alive and vibrant in her mind and banish the sadness was overwhelming. Over and over she would catch her fingers sliding down and exploring the aching need between her legs, only to pull her hand away as his words forbidding her to do this echoed in his mind. 

Even now as she knelt waiting for him, the urge to disobey him, to allow her hand to creep the scant few inches from where it rested on her thigh to the aching heat that throbbed between her legs was almost irresistible. Only the hope that he would be here soon kept her hand at bay. There was a growing sense of insecurity building in her heart. The fear that he would not come, that somehow this had all been an illusion, a delusion of madness, grew in her. Inside her head missy fought with Sarah, insisting that he would come, that he would not forget her, as Sarah whined and cried that no one could ever love her, that she was bad, that she was dirty.

She did not know how long she knelt there, minutes or hours, shaken by the winds of her anticipation and doubts. When she heard his feet walking through the main floor above where she knelt in the basement, the wave of relief was so strong she almost collapsed to the floor. She had not even been aware of how tightly she had been held her pent up energy until it threatened to explode, her body surging, fighting to stand and run to him. Missy screamed in triumph, he is here! She would have called out to him but the clothespin holding her lips together reminded her to hold her words trapped in her mouth. She held herself rigidly under control; still an excited whine shook her chest.

Mick did not come down to the basement for what seemed to be a long time. But missy basked in the sound of his footsteps above her, he was here and he would come to her at the time of his choosing. All doubt was gone and all that remained was anticipation. 

When she heard his feet on the stairs, descending down into the part of the house he had claimed as his, she found her excitement building with each firm thump of his feet bringing him closer to her. She could not resist craning her neck, straining to glimpse him as he entered into the play room, her heart racing. Her whole body was shaking so hard that the clothespin on her lips vibrated in a kind of crazy syncopation with her shuddering excitement.

When she caught sight of him her breath caught in her chest. An irresistible wave of excitement made her whole cunt clench and spasm. A small wave of pleasure rolled over her from the small orgasm that ignited spontaneously in her core.

He was wearing his usual tattered jeans and t-shirt. His hair was tousled and hanging down over one of his eyes. He had a beer in his hand and he stopped and looked around the basement, taking in the clean curtains and shining floors. He nodded and smiled to himself. 

As his eyes turned to her, missy found herself suddenly inexplicably shy, turning her eyes downward to her hands as they strained against the muscles of her thighs, her nails digging into her skin. She forced her hands and then the rest of her body to relax, but it was at odds to the tumult in her mind. She could relax but she could not still the trembling in her limbs.

When he finally spoke to her, the very sound of his voice triggered another wave of pleasure. "You have been kneeling for a long while. I am late."

Her eyes flashed up to his but she did not speak. It was not a question.

"Missy let's get you up and let you stretch your legs. It is after 9:00. You have been on your knees for over an hour." He reached his hand down to her and pulled her to her feet. She stood and then staggered, for the first time becoming aware that her legs had gone completely numb. The storm of emotions in her mind keeping her oblivious to her body's growing discomfort. As the circulation returned to her legs a million needles stabbed deep into her muscles, she clenched her teeth and whimpered. 

"Walk around missy. Walk it off." She ground her teeth as she took a shaky drunken path around the room. He nodded and encouraged her. "Good girl. It was not my intention to leave you so long on your knees but sometimes things just work out that way." 

When the pain had reduced to a deep ache she turned and returned to him, and painfully lowered herself to kneel at his feet, and waited for his next instruction. Her legs quivered with fatigue. "Missy move back to your pad and for now just sit, don't kneel. Give your legs a break."

Rather than stand she crawled to the pad and then sat on her hip, curling her legs under her, unconsciously rubbing at the aching muscles with her hand as she looked up at him curiously. 

Mick sat down on the old office chair. "So did you complete all your assignments?"

Missy reached up and took off the clothes pin, noticing for the first time that her lips were a little sore where it had held them closed. "Yes Mick Sir." When she replaced the pin she carefully put it in a different place. 

Mick looked at her and pursed up his lips. "Missy we need to talk. I want you to be able to talk with me without having to ask each time you want to say something. But I also want you to remember your lessons of listening and speaking respectfully. Do you think you can do that?"

A shiver of uncertainty shook her. She reached up and took off the pin and spoke honestly, "Mick Sir, I don't know. I know I want to, but I am afraid I will forget." She held the pin in her hand, looking down at it. She whispered, "I missed you so much."

He smiled and shook his head. "Already you forget. I know I have been gone too long. That is what I want to speak about."

Missy kept the pin gripped in her fingers, staring down at it willing herself to remember, to ignore the clamor in her mind. "Yes Sir."

Mick cleared his throat. "Missy when I came to you the first time, I did not ask for your surrender. In many ways I forced you to become mine. For this relationship to continue, I must ask for your willing surrender. You must give yourself to me but before I ask this of you, you must understand what this will mean."

Her eyes found his and she slowly nodded.

"Missy, if you choose to give yourself to me, you will become mine body and soul. Not just teacher and student, but Master and slave as well. I will have the right to choose where you live, what you wear, where you work, who you fuck. You will be my property. Your body and all your belongings will become my property. You should be aware that once I graduate from high school I have every intention of moving away from this town. If you are my slave I will take you with me. Do you understand all this so far?"

Her eyes were large and full of confusion. "Yes Mick Sir, I think so."

"Do you have any questions?"

"Is it forever? Mick Sir, I think I could bear anything but the thought, that if I gave myself to you and then you would leave me, is too much to bear. I am so much older than you. It's hard to believe that you will still want me when I get old."

"Forever is too much to think about, but as long as you need me I promise to never abandon you."

"Mick Sir, will you ever tell me why?"

"Why?"

"Why me, Sir? It seems so impossible that you would want me. Our ages..."

Mick held up his hand and interrupted her, "Stop."

Instantly she was silent, her head lowered, her eyes locked on the clothes pin in her hand.

His voice was thoughtful. "Missy you are not asking any questions that I have not asked myself a hundred times before. Every time I saw you I became more obsessed with possessing you. You were one of the reasons that I dropped out of school last year. I could not come to school, look at you and not reach out to touch you. I don't know why. All I know is what is. What 'is' is the fact I could not stay away."

Missy looked up at him, shock in her eyes. "I never knew."

Mick ignored her lapse in respect. "I think that is one of the things that made me the craziest. You seemed like you were asleep. I wanted to wake you up."

A tiny smile turned up one corner of her mouth. "I think you did that." She paused and then added, "Mick Sir." Her voice softened. "I am glad you did. How did you know that needed you to be strong, that I needed to be forced?"

"Actually I didn't know. It was a huge risk. I knew that if I was wrong, I would probably end up in jail. But I did know that this was the only way I could have you. I knew that if there was any chance to have you it would have to be everything, body and soul." He stopped and swallowed. "Missy I have a couple of different jobs. After school I work training as a diesel mechanic but on the weekends I sometimes work as a fill in at an adult bookstore. I have always been attracted by the idea of tying up, controlling and whipping women. I met a guy at the store, a guy who is a Dominant, who brought his slave with him to the store. I asked him a lot of questions. He has ended up a friend and has been kind of a teacher to me."

"Mick Sir, I don't think it would make any difference in my answer but could I ask about you?"

"So you know your answer?"

"Oh yes Mick Sir. There really wasn't any question about that. I don't think I could live without you."

A tremor shook Mick and she realized that he had not been sure about her answer. That he had been wound up tight with the fear that she would refuse him. He took a long shaky breath and cleared his throat. "About me? What do you want to know about me?"

"Mick Sir, who are you? Tell me about you. How did you get to be so strong?"

He stood and paced around the room and then threw himself down on the bed. "Come here missy, let me put my arms around you."

Eagerly she crept to the bed and crawled up into his arms. His voice was soft as he held her, his hands stroking her skin. "I don't know who my father was. My Mom is kind of a whore. When she has a job she works as a dancer, a cocktail waitress or a part time prostitute. I did not live with her all the time. She has a pretty bad drug problem and she would go into rehab pull her life together and get custody of me and my half sister for a while and then she would start using again. Then we would go back into foster care. I never stayed in one place long enough to ever get attached to anyone. I always seemed to have a job or two. The only person I could depend upon was me, if that is strength than I guess that is where it came from." 

His hands on her touching her skin lit fires where ever they touched. She found herself pressing against him, her heart starting to race. A long trembling sigh shook her. His voice came sharper, "So missy will you give yourself to me. Will you be both my student and my slave?"

Her voice throbbed with emotion, "Oh yes Mick Sir."

"Even when it means giving up everything to me, your body, your heart, your very soul?" He pressed his lips to her neck his breath hot against her flesh, his teeth grazing her skin.

"All of me, Mick Sir." For the first time her hands strayed to touch, tentatively exploring, lightly dancing across his shoulders and down his back.

His voice was low and intense, his lips moving against the shell of her ear. "I will ask a lot of you. It will not be easy. I will make you do things you will not want to do. I will expect you to obey me no matter what I ask from you."

"Then I will have to trust that you will not hurt me, because I am yours to do with what you will, my Master." Her voice was a breathless whisper that changed to a moan as he once again pressed his lips to her neck and then bit down. A sharp lancing pain shot through her and she writhed against him.

Suddenly he was tearing at his clothing, pulling his t-shirt over his head, working at his belt buckle with impatient fingers. Missy pulled feverishly at his jeans yanking them down over his hips and off his feet as he kicked of his boots. She could not tell if he was the one that tossed her down on the bed or if she threw herself down, dragging him down on top of her. All she knew was that she had to have him now and he seemed as impatient as her to be joined. 

His entry into her was sweet stab of pure ecstasy. She called out in joy and wrapped her legs around his lean hips, rocking and surging with each of his lunges into her. Their mating was simple and violent, Mick gripped her hips, thrusting with a single minded primal intensity, his eyes blazing with conquest. Missy pulling at his body, urging him on, her eyes locked on his face.

Each slamming thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body, pushing her higher and higher, filling her with heat and light. When she could not contain it any more missy cried out a single word, "Master!" and then exploded, her body convulsing under his, no longer under her control but given totally over to him. 

As Mick lunged into her and shuddered, growling softly deep in his chest as he filled her with his essence, he grated out, "You are mine!"

Mick lay on top of her, leaning on one elbow stroking her face. He was whispering softly as he looked down into her eyes. "I own you now, missy. You are mine. I am your Master now. Your whole life will be devoted to serving me. I promise to take good care of you. You were right I will not hurt you." He paused and smiled. "Well actually I promise to hurt you. I will hurt you a lot but I will never injure you and I am pretty sure you will like it, most of it."

Missy idly, sleepily kissed at his finger tips as they caressed her face. Her voice was foggy and soft. "Mick Sir, can I call you Master sometimes?"

He chuckled and kissed her lips lightly. "No my little student you may not, at least not until your training is complete." He lifted himself off her and missy felt a pang of sadness as she felt him slip from her. He sighed and lay over onto his back. "Missy I want you to use your mouth to clean off my cock."

A tiny voice in her head wondered if it would taste bad, but she ignored it and quickly took him into her mouth, licking and sucking off the fluids from their joining. She could taste both his essence and her own salty rich fluids and a wave of excitement rolled over her. She made a soft hungry groan and greedily swallowed down the sudden mouthful of saliva that flooded her mouth. She eagerly searched out and licked up every last drop and then looked up at him, her eyes sparkling, still licking her lips and swallowing, savoring the flavors still filling her mouth.

Mick looked at her with indulgent eyes, "You seemed to like that."

"Oh yes Mick Sir. I liked it a lot."

"Then you will like it even more when you get to eat my come out of another bitch's cunt won't you?"

Missy froze and looked up at him. The idea of sharing him, having him fuck another woman seemed hard to encompass, but at the same time she knew that if this was his decision then she would unquestioningly obey. Still there was a pang of uncertainty and jealousy. What if this other woman was younger or more beautiful? What if he liked her better?

Mick's voice was sharp, "I asked you a question missy. A student always answers her teacher's questions."

Missy gave herself a little shake. "Yes Mick Sir, I guess I would. I had never thought about it I guess."

His voice was a still sharp. "Missy, as your Master I will decide who you will be with. There will be times when I will tell you to fuck other people and you will obey me. I will also fuck other people and as my slave you will be happy for me that I am finding pleasure in another's body. If I tell you to eat my come out of another woman's cunt you will do it with all the obedience and enthusiastic attitude that I require of you."

Her voice was soft and a little uncertain. "If my Teacher and Master commands me to do these things I will obey." Her eyes found his, "But Mick Sir, I guess I am afraid too."


Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 01



Mick stood and pulled her to her feet. When she stood up a small flood moisture spilled out of her cunt and ran down her thigh. Instinctively she reached down to catch it. Mick lifted her hand coated in the fluids, a small puddle of the cloudy liquid in her palm and pressed it to her lips. As she obediently licked her hand clean he nodded in approval. "Yes my little student you are correct. You will obey, even if you are afraid."

Missy felt a rush of happiness. She liked that he seemed to be in a good mood. Every time she heard the gentle words 'my little student' she felt like wriggling with joy. She felt an impulse to throw her arms around him and froze. Turning quickly she knelt on her pad and pressed her lips together. She picked up her clothes pin where she had left it and stared at it determinedly.

Mick tipped his head to one side and asked, "What is the matter missy?"

"I just feel so excited and happy Mick Sir. I am afraid I will forget my lessons."

"Well I suggest you get yourself under control. I want you to come wash me off in the shower. I have plans for the night. We are going out. I want to introduce you to my mentor. I expect you to remember your lessons and not embarrass me."

Missy looked up at him and felt a wave of fear. "Yes Mick Sir, I will do my best."

When her fingers lingered on his cock in the shower, he laughed and pushed her hands away. "Missy we have plans for the evening. We need to focus." She nodded and moved on; savoring the little rush of power she felt when she realized that her touch was seductive to him. A tiny smile curved the corner of her mouth. A flash of insight about why he was so strict about her touching him warmed her heart. He was struggling against being distracted, losing control.

As she dried him off he spoke. "On the bed in your room is a dress. Go do your hair and makeup and then put on the dress. Did you buy those vampy shoes you asked me about?"

"Yes Mick Sir."

"Good, you will wear those too."

Missy sat in front of the mirror with the curling iron carefully straightening her bangs. Her hair was an infuriating mix neither straight nor curly, it fought laying flat and smooth. When she finally got them perfect she quickly braided the sides and then meticulously applied her makeup. She had printed out a picture of the character Abby Sciuto and hung it on her mirror. She wondered idly if there was any way to make her eyes that particular shade of green, rather than this boring muddy mix of colors that everyone called hazel for lack of a better description.

Mick was in her bedroom when she came in. He was leaning down lacing up some black shoes. When he sat up missy's eyes got big. He was wearing a pair of new black denim jeans, and a black shirt. His hair was still too long and hung down around his ears and over his eyes but it seemed deliberate instead of careless. 

He pointed at a puddle of black fabric on the foot of her bed. "Put it on."

Missy picked up the dress and held it out. There did not seem to be a lot of fabric. It was black and made of a stretch spandex fabric. Her voice shook with trepidation, "Just this Mick Sir?"

This time his voice was impatient. "Put it on."

She pulled the dress over her head. It was strapless and had a deep 'V' running down from the top of the bodice to her navel. A row of laces pulled the top together but even when she pulled the strings as tightly as she could there was a gap running down the front of her body that barely covered her large aureoles. The skirt was terrifyingly short and the bottom hem flared out in a loose frilly fringe the threatened to fly up and reveal her ass or cunt at the slightest movement. She looked down at herself and swallowed hard and looked up at him with frightened eyes. 

He laughed. "You look fine missy. Show me the shoes you bought."

She found herself struggling to carefully bend at the knees as she reached down to pick up the shoe box from the bottom of her closet. She was suddenly self conscious that it was nearly impossible to move without exposing herself and for some reason she was painfully embarrassed. 

Mick's eyes were amused as he watched her carefully contort to slip on the four inch heels and buckle the strap around her ankle. "Those are some fine 'come fuck me' shoes missy. Stand up and turn around, show me how proud you are of how fucking sexy you are."

She stood and carefully turned around, teetering a little precariously on her new high heels. She was careful to stand straight and tried to smile but her lips trembled and betrayed her. She could not fight the fear in her voice when she asked, "Mick Sir, are we going out... um... out in... in public like this?"

"Not tonight missy but there will come a time when you will. There will come a time when I will ask you to wear less. But tonight we are going to visit my mentor and his slave in their home."

A small wave of relief flowed through her. She knew she could do that. Her smile gained a little confidence. 

Missy looked at the sheet of paper Mick had given her as she drove up the long dark road. Mick had insisted that they drive separately and handing her a map and a set of written instructions. He had spoken at length about how he expected her to behave in the home of his friend and mentor. "You will only speak when directly questioned. If he asks you any questions you will refer to him as Sir. You will kneel on the floor at my feet if you have not been directed to kneel elsewhere. We are here to watch and learn. I do not expect that you will be asked to do more, but if that changes I will expect you to obey me, no matter what you are told to do. Because we are there to watch and learn it is permitted for you to look around, but do not stare rudely at anyone. It is very rude to ever stare at another Master."

He had told her to wait fifteen minutes after he left to leave, promising that he would be there before her and that she should wait in her car until he came to get her. He had pulled on a black leather jacket that was a couple sizes too big and gave her a quick wink. "Cheer up missy this is a happy day. You have given yourself to me. This is a celebration not a test."

She looked at the map and read the number on post beside an open iron gate and drove up a smoothly paved drive way. She felt a wave of terror when she saw a number of cars parked along the road, realizing that there was some kind of gathering or party going on at the big house that loomed ahead. She pulled up behind Mick's battered old pickup truck and waited until he opened her door and held out his hand for her to take.


Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please do me the kindness of rating and leaving me feedback. Constructive and/or critical, public or private, raving or troll; I love to hear from you

To those who leave anonymous feedback, I regret I cannot respond to you individually. Please accept my appreciation in advance. 

xantu 



Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 02



Chapter 10: A trip to Kennedy's. 

Enjoy

xantu


Every window in the huge house at the end of the drive was brightly lit and missy could see people moving inside. A wave of fear and embarrassment shook her. Mick had said they were visiting his mentor and his slave. She had been sort of looking forward to meeting another woman who was a slave. Mick had chosen an outfit that left her almost completely exposed but she had told herself that she could do this. It was only going to be a couple of people. Now looking at the house it was obvious that there seemed to be some kind of a party going on there.

Missy looked up at Mick and took a deep breath, reached for his hand and carefully stepped out of her car. She could hear the heavy bass line of loud music coming from the house and she looked nervously at the dozen or so cars parked along the driveway and then down at the dress that barely covered her breasts and was so short that her naked ass and cunt showed at the slightest movement. 

Mick looked at the little black clutch purse she held gripped in her hands. "What's in there?"

Missy held out the purse for his inspection, "Just my driver's license, comb, lipstick, and my car keys, Mick Sir."

Mick took the purse from her hands and opened it up. He took her car keys out and put them into his pocket. Then he took the lipstick and spoke softly, "Hold still." Missy stood miserably as he messily smeared it over her mouth and then began to write something across her chest. Mick chuckled, "There you go. Don't worry about your hair. I doubt you will have many people looking at your hair."

He put her purse on the seat of her car and locked the doors. "One last thing for your outfit, my little student." From his pocket he pulled out the dog collar and leash she had purchased and using the little padlock he fastened the collar around her neck. "Remember your lessons. If you do not know what to do, look to me."

"Yes, Mick Sir." Missy peered down at her chest and bit her lip on the inside, not knowing if she was going to laugh or cry. He had written, "Mick's Cunt," on her chest.

Mick turned and strode off toward the big house. A wave of terror shook her and first she could not take a step. The leash tightened and then jerked her forward. Missy stumbled and then hurried to keep from being jerked off her feet. She was unused to walking in such tall heels and the ground was soft making it hard to keep her balance. Keeping from falling was all she could focus on as she careened and staggered behind Mick. His only response was to tug impatiently on the leash and bark at her to stop fucking around.

When she finally reached the paved walkway leading to the front door, missy had a little better success keeping her balance. The front door stood open and a nude woman knelt by the entrance. Missy instinctively hung back a couple feet behind Mick as they went up the stairs. Mick spoke in a manner that made it obvious he knew this woman, "I see you are the official greeter tonight, kitten."

The woman kept her eyes locked on the floor and she spoke in a meek voice, "This slave respectfully greets her Master's guest. Welcome to our house. My Master has a message for you, Sir. He says he is in the ballroom and wishes to speak to you once you arrive." Missy thought she had a curious lisp.

Missy looked curiously at the woman kneeling by the door. She was quite young, in her early twenties and quite plump. Her hair was pulled back into a tight high pony tail and she was wearing a hair band with cat's ears attached. She had makeup on her face that made her eyes look slanted and whiskers were painted on her face. Gold rings pierced both her nipples and missy noticed that an elaborate network of fine gold chains seemed to be wrapped around the girl's body, reaching from around her neck and arms to attach to the rings in her nipples and then spiraling down around her body and disappearing between her legs. 

Mick reached down and stroked her head, "Good kitten, I will find your Master and tell him that his pet delivered her message." The chubby girl made a happy meow and then purred and rubbed her head against Mick's leg. There was a soft jingling sound and missy noticed that there were numerous little bells attached to the chains. Then she arched her back and licked her hand like a paw. Missy was shocked to see she did not have any teeth in front, just two exaggerated canines framing a pink tongue pierced with a gold stud. Missy was not surprised to see a long cat's tail somehow attached to the girl's rear end. 

The only clue that they were to walk inside was the impatient tug at the leash. Missy realized she was going to have to stop looking around so much and pay attention to Mick. Her high heels clicked on the hardwood floors and she had only a fleeting glimpse of a brightly lit entryway with a big chandelier before he turned abruptly and began to move quickly down a wide staircase. As they moved down the music got louder and more oppressive. Missy wondered how anyone could think with that much noise. 

Again Mick had her moving so quickly that she had little opportunity to look at her surroundings. It was everything she could do to concentrate on keeping her balance and try to keep her spandex dress from riding up as she walked. Mick stopped so abruptly that she almost ran into the back of him and she looked out into the room. A large, dimly lit dance floor dominated the huge room. At least a dozen people were gyrating on a big dance floor and another dozen or so were standing around in groups or sitting on the dark couches and chairs on the edges of the room. 

Mick scanned the room and then took off again, headed for a group that was seated on the far side. Dragging missy directly across the middle of the dance floor he threaded his way through the dancers. She could not help but notice that she seemed to be the only woman in the whole room wearing clothing, but Mick was moving too quickly for her to look too closely at anyone for very long.

As they approached the group an older man in a long white caftan stood and hollered something that was drowned out by the music and then took Mick's hand and pulled him into a vigorous hug and pounded him on the back. Missy hung back and, remembering Mick's caution to not stare at another Master, kept her eyes averted, looking at this man out of the corner of her eye. He was older, maybe almost sixty with a shiny bald head and a large belly.

Mick returned the embrace and hollered something back. The older man turned to look at missy and she froze and looked fearfully at the floor, her shoulders slowly coming up around her ears. She flinched when his hand touched her face, tracing the curve of her cheek and then his thumb tracing across her lower lip. He took hold of her lower lip and lifted her face up to look at his. His eyes were tired and a little blood shot, and seemed to look right through her, his lips moved and she could tell he was saying something but the music was too loud. He frowned and spoke again, temper showing on his face. He carefully wiped the lipstick off his fingers by rubbing it off onto her cheek and then turned on his heel and walked away. Mick gave a quick tug on her leash and she followed him from the room. Missy noticed a blond woman rise up quickly from her knees from her place by a couch and hurry after them.

The older man in the white caftan pushed open a pair of heavy doors and as they swung shut the sound was instantly muffled to a distant thrum of a bass beat. The man's voice was harsh and gravelly. "Holy mother of gods, that music is fucking loud. A man can't even hear himself think, much less have a civilized conversation." The woman that had followed them silently sank to her knees near the door and became motionless, her eyes on the floor.

They seemed to be in a dimly lit entryway, a dark hallway extended away into the darkness. Missy could see a series of heavy wooden doors on either side. Missy heard a thud and a soft squall of pain. A woman's voice made some taunting comment and then laughed derisively. The man laughed, "Sounds like Trinidad is already busy. How are you, my boy?" 

"Great, I am doing great." Mick's voice was amused. At the sound of his voice missy remembered to focus and look to him. Belatedly remembering that her Master had said for her to kneel at his feet if she had not been told to kneel elsewhere, she awkwardly lowered herself to her knees, trying somehow to get down without exposing her naked ass.

The old man turned to her again and stepped back, looking down at her. Again missy held herself still and kept her eyes focused on Mick's shoes. "Good to hear, my boy. Good to hear. So this is your missy. She is everything you said she was. Have you trained her display positions yet?"

"No, not yet." 

The older man snapped his fingers and the nude woman jumped to her feet and murmured, "Yes, my Master?"

"Stand before this untrained slave. Assume display position one."

"Yes, my Master."

The man grabbed missy's hair and tipped her head to look up at the nude woman before her. She was so close that missy's eyes were at the same level as her cunt and missy found herself once again distracted by a sparking gold ring piercing through the hood over the clitoris with a red ruby set on it. Unconsciously missy licked her lips and lifted her eyes higher watching as the nude woman came to attention.

The woman stood tall, her hands clasped behind her neck, her elbows pulled back, and her feet about shoulder width apart. Her neck was straight, but she kept her eyes downcast, staring directly into missy's eyes and a soft smile curved her lips. Missy could see that she was probably in her mid forties but she was in excellent shape and her large breasts were firm enough that missy suspected she had had a breast lift done. 

The old man released missy's head with a jerk, "Now, you do that." Instantly the nude woman gave a small curtsy and backed to her place by the wall and knelt in one fluid movement.

Missy clamored to her feet and clasped her hands behind her neck, spacing her legs apart like the woman in front of her. His scathing tone scorched through her, "You did not say that she was stupid, Mick. Is she really this clueless?"

Mick laughed, "Stupid? No, she is not stupid, but she is untrained and I think a little shy." His voice sharpened, "missy, this is a 'display' position. A slave stands like this to show off her body to her Master and whoever her Master tells her to display her body to. It ought to be pretty obvious to you that wearing a dress at this time might be a bit of a barrier to your Master's eyes."

Missy swallowed and nodded. Her hands shook as she reached up and untied the laces holding the dress barely closed and then slipped it down over her hips. It fell in a puddle around her feet and she put her hands behind her neck again. Her face felt like it was on fire.

The old man slowly walked around her. "Tabula Rasa, my boy, it has been too long since I have seen such fresh flesh. I envy you. What are your thoughts?"

"For now, just basic training, she is still struggling with the basics. She finds holding her tongue a challenge. Tonight I want her to observe."

Again there was a cracking thud and a strangled scream. The old man tipped his head and laughed, "If she is here to observe, let's look around." Again missy felt a jerk on her collar and she realized she had not watched Mick closely enough and he had walked away without her noticing. It seemed like her head was filled with confusion. Missy staggered to catch up, silently cursing the high heels that had her so off balance. It was only after she had taken three steps that she realized she had left the dress laying on the floor. 

She forced herself to keep walking, hurrying to catch up with Mick. She told herself that it did not matter that she was nude. All the women here were nude. Though, she hated the idea of walking away and leaving the dress lying on the floor. Mick had given it to her and she would need it to get home. 

The old man in the caftan stopped at a door and pushed it open, "Trinidad, may we disturb you? I have someone who I would like to observe."

The voice was a sharp snarl, "Kennedy, I usually charge for that privilege."

The man, that missy now named Kennedy in her head, laughed, "The time you start charging me to look around my own house, is the time you start paying full membership fees and rent to use my rooms."

The laughter was harsh and bitter, "Then be my guest, just stay out of the way."

At first the room seemed dark, missy nervously peering at the dark figures, trying to see what was happening. A peremptory tug on her collar forced her back down onto her knees. She felt Mick's knees beside her and leaning back realized he had sat down on a couch against the wall. His fingers slipped into the back of her collar and turned her to face the darkness, and remained there, slowly tightening and loosening the collar, reminding her it was there. Again she peered at the dark figures and then blinked as a spotlight lit up the scene.

First her eyes were drawn to the naked man tied in the center. He had his back to them, but was bent sharply at the waist. His hands were bound together behind his back and lifted high by a chain coming down from the ceiling, forcing him into an agonizing bow. His legs were forced wide by additional chains, and missy could see his muscles trembling with effort to raise himself, to ease the stress on his arms and shoulders. While his head was clearly visible hanging down between his legs, missy could not see his face because his head was in a black fabric bag. All the bare skin she could see was striped and marked with blows. 

A figure moved in the darkness, outside the circle of the spotlight, and a deep, throaty, woman's voice spoke up, "As you can see my friend and I have already started our fun. He was impatient." The voice paused and then chuckled, "And so was I."

The figure of a tall, razor thin woman stepped into the light. At first missy thought she was wearing some kind of skin tight subtly patterned cat suit, but then she realized that the woman was tattooed. From neck to the top of the thigh high boots she had on there was not an inch of her body that was not covered in ink. She turned to face the small group and bowed and missy could see she was a light skinned, African American woman with long dreadlocks pulled up into a crest running along the top of her head. 

Missy could see dozens of glints of metal on the woman's body and realized she must be extensively pierced as well. If she was wearing anything other than her boots, it blended so well with the tattoos on her body that missy could not tell. She had a long slender rod in her hand, and she gave a vigorous swing through the air. Missy could hear it whistle through the air and then noticed that the man's buttocks flinched and then shuddered at the sound.

Grasping both ends of the rod, Trinidad flexed it a few times and looked down at the quivering ass in front of her. She reached out with the rod and ran it up the inside of one of the taut and trembling thighs and then gave a peremptory tap on his balls. A deep grunt of pain echoed through the room and for just an instant his knees buckled and then he forced himself up on his toes. A garbled, incomprehensible protest rose up and missy realized that the man had to be wearing a gag under the bag over his head. 

Trinidad laughed and spoke sharply, "What's that? You liked that? You want more?" She prodded clinically at his rapidly shrinking erection. "Perhaps not, you certainly seem to be losing some of your enthusiasm. I know what you crave, my friend. I know what you need." She raised the rod and brought it down across the man's buttocks. A strangled scream rose up.

Missy cringed and tried to look away as the tall, thin, tattooed woman began to strike viciously again and again, the man began to struggle and scream. Mick's fingers were tightened on her collar and missy began to feel dizzy as she felt her breathing constricted. He leaned over and hissed into her ear, "Pay attention," and gave her collar a jerk. Missy forced her eyes back to the scene, her shoulders coming up around her ears, soft shivers of revulsion starting to shake through her. But she also noticed that his penis was getting hard and rising up against his belly. 

It seemed like his cries were getting quieter and more urgent sounding. Again missy just did now want to watch anymore and a little wave of rebellion coursed through her and she thought briefly of just closing her eyes, but then just let her eyes lose their focus. As the images before her blurred and then began to swim, she forced her body to relax and wait. She wondered if Mick really got off on watching men with hard-ons getting beaten by tattooed women, and felt a little shocked at the critical tone of her internal dialog.

The sounds coming from the man made it clear that he was becoming increasingly aroused and when he made a deep growling groan and the tattooed woman laughed derisively, missy found herself unconsciously focusing her eyes. The cloudy scene instantly sharpened and missy could see that the man was hanging with almost all his weight from his arms, his body shining with sweat. The old man in the caftan began to clap energetically and Mick joined more sedately. Missy felt his knee nudge her sharply and she politely brought her palms together. 

Somewhere, someone turned the lights on for the whole room and the tattooed woman looked at the group watching her. A feral smile lit up her face, "Micky, little Micky, I did not know you were watching too. I would have been so much more inspired." Her eyes looked down at the naked form of missy at Mick's feet. "Oh my, what do we have here?" She began to stalk sinuously toward the couches, her eyes locked on missy.

Missy realized she was staring at the tattooed woman like a bird caught in a snake's gaze and flashed her eyes down to the floor, staring at her knees in terror. Soon the toes and tall heels of the woman's boots were there, spread in a wide stance. Missy could feel Mick's fingers still hooked possessively in her collar. Slowly the woman lowered herself, crouching and her knees bent, spreading them wide. Missy realized she was wearing some kind of bikini panty but it was artfully multicolored to blend with the decorations on her body. Missy's eyes traced an almost lifelike rendering of some kind of scaled snake like thing with wings that was either crawling into or out of those panties. She could not tell, she could not see the head because the scaled body wound around out of sight behind the hip of the woman crouching before her. 

Again the voice was mocking, "Micky has brought a date?" Missy felt a sharp tipped fingernail under her chin, lifting her face up to look up. Missy shivered as the large, black eyes scanned her face, and then casually traced down her chest. The sharp nail slowly traced the smeared lipstick letters on missy's chest, "What a sweet sentiment, Micky. So you claim this one as yours. You have always had a thing for vintage models." Again the finger traced the letters, pushing harder, almost scratching missy's skin. "If you want I could put this on permanently. A reminder of your first date here at Kennedy's. I would not charge you too much. You could perhaps work out an exchange, a barter of services. I would like to see you up on that stage. I promise I would make the experience memorable. I would be so inspired."

Mick's laugh was mirthless, "Trinidad, I have said 'no' once, twice, a thousand times 'no'. I am not going to become your plaything. I am not interested in that kind of scene."

The disappointment was apparent in her voice, "But Micky, you know how much more I like to teach a man exactly what kind of scene he likes. I am sure, given time and the right incentives, you would learn to love my kind of scenes. There is nothing quite as sweet as the protests of a man who finds himself loving what he swore he would never do."




Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 02



Mick stood abruptly and Trinidad stood and stepped back. Missy felt Mick hauling up on her collar and stood, still trapped between this tall woman and her Master. She could see that Trinidad was not wearing a top at all and her very flat chest was completely covered with the writhing scales of a winged reptilian creature with flames leaking out between the sinuous coils. Two gold bars shaped like bones pierced each dark nipple forming an 'X' on each one. "Again a thousand times no, Trinidad. But you are right; I would like some artwork done. Perhaps we could barter something else, perhaps you need some car work done?" 

Trinidad made and exasperated snort, "Car work, how plebian." A claw sharp, blood red fingernail again began to trace the letters for a third time, pressing into missy's flesh, almost cutting her. "Maybe you could give this one to me for a time. If I could not twist you, it would perhaps be almost as sweet breaking this new toy of yours, hearing her scream for you as you walk away. I can smell her fear and I find it intriguing."

A shudder of fear shook through missy and she shrank back from the hand on her chest. A tiny whimper rose up in her chest, the first sound she had made since they had walked in through the front doors of this demented place. She was completely unaware that she was softly almost imperceptively shaking her head.

Mick growled, "Enough Trinidad, hands off my property." Mick's eyes turned toward the man trying once again to hold his weight on his feet to ease the stress on his arms and shoulders. "Your friend seems to be waking up. You might look to him before his arms come out of their sockets. You will have a great deal of difficulty finding playmates if the word gets out that you let them become permanently injured."

Missy felt him grab her arm and push her along ahead of him out of the room into the hall. As he propelled her down the hall toward the pounding music, missy shot a searching glance for where she had dropped her dress to the floor, but her heart sank when she saw that it was gone. Soon they were in the larger room and missy's eyes widened when she saw that at least twice as many people were dancing or sitting around the room. Mick walked over to an empty couch, threw himself down on it, and pushed her down onto her knees at his feet.

Missy watched the dancers on the dance floor. There seemed to be many more women than men dancing and most of the women were completely nude. Missy could see more than one couple of nude female bodies slowly sensually grinding against each other. The music did not seem to change that much, one loud techno piece blending into the next. 

A nude girl came by and leaned down and hollered something into Mick's ear and he nodded. Soon she was back with a tray with two tall glasses filled with liquid and ice cubes. Mick pressed one glass into missy's hand and she sipped it cautiously. She looked at it in surprise; it was some kind of tart fruit punch without any alcohol in it. Gratefully, she took a deep swallow, realizing how hungry and thirsty she was. She had been far too nervous to eat or drink almost all day. The sugar and fluid seemed to flow directly into her parched tissues.

The older man in the white caftan loomed into missy's vision and she tensed, she knew his name was Kennedy, but she still just called him the man in the caftan inside her head. She stared down at the drink in her hand and took a nervous sip and then looked out at the dancers again. A soft hand touched her shoulder and missy flinched and looked up at the nude woman that seemed to perpetually follow the man around. She was smiling gently and beckoning to missy to stand and come with her. Missy sent a panicked look to Mick and he waved at her, gesturing for her to go.

Reluctantly missy stood and the woman took her hand, nodding in encouragement and led her around the dance floor and into a door marked "Bitches." Inside the music was less oppressive. The nude woman turned to missy, "I thought you might like to powder your nose."

Missy could not suppress a small grin at the euphemism and responded with an almost inaudible, "Thank you." She slipped into a stall and sat. Missy did not especially need to pee, but realized she might not have a chance again in a long time. Focusing on relaxing, she forced herself to completely empty her bladder. 

As she washed her hands she looked at herself in the mirror. The lipstick was still smeared around her lips and across on cheek making her look sloppy or perhaps like she had been necking. She made no effort to wipe it off. The writing on her chest was blurred and almost unreadable. Missy leaned in and looked closer; she could see that there were shallow scratches on her skin, a reminder of the sharp fingernail that traced the words 'Mick's Cunt' over and over as the woman taunted her Master. 

The woman looked over her shoulder, "That Trinidad is such a bitch sometimes. It looks like those will go away pretty fast."

Missy's eyes met hers in the mirror; her voice was fearful, "Is it okay for me to talk to you?"

The woman's eyes softened, "Has your Master forbidden you to speak?"

"I don't know. He said to speak only when spoken to."

"Well I am speaking to you now, aren't I? I am sure it is okay to speak now, with me, but out there you will see that I do not speak unless I am spoken to first or have an assigned task that requires I initiate speech." Opening a drawer the woman pulled out a brush and smoothed her blond hair, "My name is Lolly." Taking out a tube of lipstick she put a fresh coat of red lipstick on. "So, missy, how are you feeling? You were looking pretty terrified earlier, but it looks like you are starting to feel a little better."

"I did not like that thing back there in that room. It just was weird and kind of freaked me out. And I hated when she touched me." 

"Like I said, she is a bitch. None of us subs like her. She just likes to hurt people. I wish Master did not find her so amusing. He likes to watch as she goes around making people uncomfortable."

Missy asked cautiously, "Mr. Kennedy is your Master?"

Lolly looked mildly surprised, and then shook her head, "Missy, when you speak another Master's name, say Sir Kennedy, but if you are speaking directly to a Master that is not your own, do not say their name. Just say Sir. If it is a woman, it is a little more complicated, but if you aren't sure just say Ma'am. You may get corrected, but until then it is a best guess. And yes, Kennedy is my Master. He has been my Master for almost twenty-five years."

Missy stood and tried to smooth her bangs a little with her hand. A shadow fell over her face, "I lost my dress somewhere, and I don't know how I am going to get home without it."

Lolly laughed, "Most likely you will find it hanging in the coat closet by the front door where most everyone leaves their clothes. If you cannot find your dress, there are at least a dozen that have been left behind over the last few months. Just grab one of those. It is probably where Mick got your dress in the first place. Master has kind of taken a shine to him and lets him pick out stuff from the lost and found. "

Missy looked curiously around her, "What kind of place is this? I thought we were just coming to visit you and your Master at your house and I get here and it's like some kind of night club."

"It is our house and a club, a very private, exclusive club. My Master, kitten, and I live on the upper floors and the club is in the basement. We are only open on Friday and Saturday nights and then for private parties on other days. The members pay a monthly membership fee. We are working on a liquor license, but with the sex here, it is hard to get one. For now most people either just drink the fruit juice or have something to drink in their cars. They have to go outside to smoke cigarettes and, um, whatever, so they can grab something to drink when they are out. Master does not tolerate drunkenness or people getting too stoned. He will call a cab and send them home. He charges them a great deal for that small service. It does not take too many times for someone to learn moderation." 

As missy moved to go back out the door, Lolly's hand trailed down her back and caressed her ass. Missy froze, her shoulders coming up around her ears again. "Please don't."

Lolly's voice was amused, "Don't you like me?" 

Missy shifted nervously, "Um... um, yes? I mean no? I don't know. I am so nervous, I can hardly think. But I don't want to do anything without knowing if it is my Master's wish."

Lolly looked at her with a new respect, "For a nervous newbie, you have very good instincts. Your Master will be pleased. Do you like to dance?"

"I used to, a long time ago."

"Well maybe your Master will wish for you to dance with me."

The ice in missy's drink had almost completely melted and Mick gave her a stern look when she knelt at his feet, carefully positioning herself so she could watch his face out of the corner of her eye and still look out on the room. Missy looked at him meekly and then flicked her eyes toward the departing back of Lolly. She wished that the music weren't so loud so she could explain or at least beg his forgiveness. Then she realized that the music was in many ways like the clothespin he had put onto her lips. It was a barrier forcing her to trap her words inside, forcing her to think and decide if the words really needed to be spoken. Missy smiled as she realized that; her words evaporated almost as quickly as they appeared. It seemed like the impulse to blurt out words was so much more of an issue of late. She felt a wave of affection for her Master.

Missy had to fight the urge to lean her head against Mick's leg, instead she turned her eyes up to his face and this time her smile was an outpouring of her love and gratitude for him. Mick gave her a quizzical look and then grinned back. He reached out and gave one of her braids a playful tug and then turned his gaze out onto the dance floor once more.


Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please do me the kindness of rating and leaving me feedback. Constructive and/or critical, public or private, raving or troll; I love to hear from you

To those who leave anonymous feedback, I regret I cannot respond to you individually. Please accept my appreciation in advance. 

xantu 



Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 03



Training Missy Chapter 3: A trip to Kennedy's continued. 

Enjoy

xantu


Missy knelt nude at Mick's knee and watched the dancers on the floor. The girl serving drinks brought them each another glass of juice. The oppressive music prevented all conversation, but she was very conscious of Mick's hand on her leash. 

The pervasive sense of embarrassment and fear seemed to have faded. Missy felt almost calm and curious. In many ways it was easier to be naked than to wear that little ridiculous dress. She sent out a little prayer that it was really lost forever and that they could find something that fit a little better. 

Mick nudged her with his knee and when she looked up to his face, he pointed with his chin at the figure of the man in the caftan, Kennedy, approaching with Lolly obediently following along behind. Missy carefully kept her eyes averted. Kennedy sat down and Lolly leaned over and spoke into Mick's ear. Missy watched Mick's face carefully from the corner of one eye as he frowned and then shrugged and nodded. Unhooking the leash from his belt, he handed the end to Lolly. Lolly's face lit up and she turned to missy, tugging on the leash and then pointing out at the dance floor.

Missy flashed her eyes to Mick and, when he nodded again, rose to her feet and followed Lolly out to the dance floor. Dancing in her high heels was nearly impossible and missy ended up standing with her feet close together and slowly gyrating to the music. Lolly grinned and stood close to missy, her feet almost on either side of missy's and began to match missy's rhythm, her body a sinuous mirror. Missy could feel the warmth of the body moving so close to hers and a sweet scent of soap, clean sweat, and woman filled the thin layer of air separating their swaying bodies.

Missy did not know for how long they danced like that. It seemed like a long time. She was dripping with sweat, breathing hard, and her feet were really starting to hurt. She could feel several very raw places where the strap around her ankles was rubbing the skin away. Missy finally grimaced, touched Lolly's hand, and pointed at her feet. Lolly looked down and appeared shocked. Missy followed her eyes and was winced to see that there was actually a tiny trickle of blood running down the side of one of her ankles.

Lolly grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the women's bathroom. Once they were inside she scolded, "Good lord, missy, why didn't you say something earlier?"

"It was too loud."

"You should have stopped dancing."

Missy looked at her and made a worried face, "I didn't know I could stop."

Lolly gave her a strange look and then gave an exasperated sigh, "Newbies," and then she shook her head, "Missy, we were just dancing for fun. I thought you would like it. Now you have damaged your feet and now both our Masters will be displeased with us."

Missy looked panicked, "I didn't know. These shoes are brand new and I had never worn them before."

Lolly shrugged, "Well, there is nothing to do but to go confess. Take my advice, never, never try to hide stuff from you Master. It's just not worth it." She pressed a handful of band aids into missy's hand. "Don't put these on until you have shown him."

"Could I at least wash off the blood?"

"I guess that won't hurt. That way he will be able to see that it is just some popped blisters."

Lolly led missy back to the couch and missy touched Mick's hand and pointed to her foot. He looked puzzled and she leaned over and spoke loudly into his ear, "Blisters!" 

Mick frowned and pointed sharply at the floor and then pointed at her feet and then at his lap. Missy found herself in the strangely awkward position of sitting naked on the edge of a dance floor with her feet in her Master's lap as he pulled off her shoes and twisted and turned her ankles looking at her blisters. Mick held out his hand and missy handed him the band aids. He carefully put band aids on each of her blisters, and then firmly grasped her ankles and twisted, forcing missy to flip around onto her belly on the floor. Almost before she was completely turned over he began to sharply slap the bottoms of her feet, first one and then the other. It hurt like fire, and missy found herself almost immediately screaming in pain, but the music drowned out her cries. 

It was everything she could manage to not pull away or kick out. She forced herself to hold her feet up to him, clenching her eyes closed and letting the pain flow through her as she wailed. When he finally stopped, missy lay still on the floor gasping. The pain in her feet continued to burn and ache for a long time, and then they began itch. Mick stood and grabbed one of her braids and hauled her around to her knees before him and reattached her leash to his belt. He stood, gave it a peremptory jerk and headed toward the double doors leading to the hallway where she had been inspected earlier. Missy gingerly limped after him, noticing he had her shoes in his hand.

Only once they were away from the music did Missy notice that Kennedy and Lolly had followed them from the other room. 

Mick stopped and gave missy a critical look. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

Missy gulped and stammered, "I am sorry, Mick Sir, I guess I didn't know I could make the dancing stop. I... um... guess I was thinking I had to dance until somebody told me to stop."

Kennedy laughed, "She really is clueless, boy. There is nothing like a blank slate. She really has no clue to the rules." The older man turned to missy and shook his finger in her face. "Never carelessly cause damage to your Master's property. If you think something is causing you injury, you must stop doing it. If your Master is doing something and you suspect he might not be aware that an injury is happening, it is your responsibility to bring his attention to it." 

Kennedy turned to Lolly, "I am still debating how responsible I find you in this."

Missy timidly raised her hand. Mick looked at her curiously and then said, "What is it you want to say, missy?"

"Would it be permitted, Mick Sir, to speak in Lolly's defense?"

Kennedy roared in laughter, "Oh that's rich. You have found yourself a little litigator." He turned to missy, "Speak up, girl. I doubt it will have much bearing on my decision, but I am curious to hear what you have to say."

"Sir, Lolly did not know that I was getting blisters. As soon as I showed her, she took me to the bathroom, had me wash them off, and got me some band aids. But Sir, she told me not to put on the band aids. She told me to go straight to my Master and confess. She scolded me and told me of my error. The entire fault is my own." Missy took a deep breath, "Sir, I know I have a lot to learn. I will be making a lot of mistakes, I am sure. Please do not hold others responsible for my errors. Hold me responsible."

The old man in the caftan clapped loudly and bellowed, "Bravo, well said."

Missy looked at him expectantly expecting more, perhaps some judgment of innocence or at least some pronouncement of clemency, but he just turned down and walked away down to the end of the hall. Mick jerked on her leash and followed. Lolly walked beside missy and caught her eye, shrugged, and winked. 

At the end of the hall were two heavy wooden doors and Kennedy fumbled around in a deep pocket in his caftan and pulled out a key. Once they were through the doors, all hint of sound from the dance floor was gone. Even the deep bass vibration did not seem to come up through the floor. There were hardly any lights in the room, just a two strategic recessed lights close to the door. Lolly touched something next to the door and gradually the lights came up illuminating the large room.

A lot of strange furniture and what looked like medieval looking torture devices were arranged around the room. Mick pulled missy to one of the walls and pushed her back up against the wall and growled, "Put your hands up over your head." In a matter of seconds missy found her wrists locked into a pair of very heavy looking iron manacles that hung on a chain from an eye bolt coming out from the wall above her head. Her arms were not stretched high, when she relaxed her arms they hung just above her head and her aching feet were comfortably flat on the floor.

Kennedy was looking at Lolly, "So the girl says you are not to blame, that I should hold her responsible. But you were the one that spoke to me about her complete innocence and uncertainty. You once were where she is now, desperate to please, yet fearful, not knowing what to expect and dreading doing something to disappoint her Master. Remember the honeymoon, sweet Lolly? Remember that precarious feeling?"

Lolly looked sober and nodded. Her voice was chastened, "Yes, Master."

"Now go out and get your kitten and then come straight back, both of you. She has spent more than enough time on the front porch."

Mick wandered through the room, idly looking at the furniture. Finally he stopped in front of missy and looked at her. He spoke softly, "No matter what happens in here tonight you will not speak a word or make a sound. Do you understand?"

Missy nodded, but did not speak.

"Also missy, no matter what happens, I require you to watch. Do not turn away or close your eyes. My eyes will be on you."

Missy's lips trembled and she nodded again.

Lolly and the chubby girl that had met them on the porch slipped back in through the doors and both knelt in front of Kennedy hand in hand. The fine golden chains and wrapped around Kitten's body jingled. He looked at Lolly and shook his head, "I know I had promised you a reward tonight, but I do not think you deserve it now. But I think a reward denied is so much more meaningful if it is dangled just out of your reach or, even better, grazing against your trembling fingertips. So I am going to let you have what you crave. You may sink your teeth into that fruit, you will savor the flavor, but you must not swallow. I want you to suffer the throes of passion, but you must not find release. I want you screaming for it, knowing it is hopeless to beg. If you do not satisfy me that you have fully suffered this or if you defy me and take your pleasure then I will punish you. Not only will you gravely regret your disobedience personally, but I will send your little pet to visit Trinidad. You and I both know how ill suited your little kitty is to pain."

Kitten made a small panicked meow and then to missy's amazement arched her back and hissed.

Lolly looked up at her Master and she shook her head violently. "I will obey you, my Master. I will suffer and I will give you everything you demand. Please do not even think of hurting my kitten. You know she is tender and cannot bear to be hurt."

Kennedy's voice was tired and bored, "I hope you can convince me. I want to see the truth in your face. If I think for even an instant you are deceiving me, your pet will pay a very cruel price."

Missy silently convulsed against her chains when Lolly turned to Mick and said in a tense voice, "Sir, what would be your pleasure?"

And Mick replied, "Pretty Lolly, considering your punishment, it would be better for you to speak of your own pleasure. What would be the most torment for you? What did you hope for that you cannot have now?" Then he pointed his chin towards missy, "All that I ask of you is that we do this at her feet. She spoke of wanting to be held responsible, so she must share your suffering. Your task will be to taste the fruit without satisfying your hunger. Hers will be to watch your struggle and contend with her own cravings." He looked at missy and repeated, "...cravings and perhaps insecurities."

Lolly took a deep breath and stood for a minute and looked up, thinking. "Thank you, Sir, for reminding me to be an active participant in my punishment. I think first to be teased and tantalized to the brink by my kitten, and then to be taken hard and long doggie style, and finishing slow and sweet in missionary. It would be most effective if I can see my Master's face especially at the end when I am starting to suffer most."

Mick nodded and pointed to the floor near missy's feet. Lolly went to a stack of thin blue exercise pads and pulled one over to the spot he had indicated and lay down upon it. She spoke softly, "My kitten, you must do this well to please me and our Master." Kitten meowed and crawled to Lolly's feet, rubbing against Lolly's legs and licking at her ankles. Missy wondered if there was something wrong with the girl, wondered if she could talk. When Lolly lay down her head was almost touching missy's feet and her eyes were looking up at missy's eyes. To missy's absolute surprise Lolly shrugged and winked at her again, like there was some inside joke she was supposed to be aware of. Kitten began to purr and lap at Lolly's legs, working he way up the length of her legs. Missy stared as the girl began to knead and suck at Lolly's flesh like a nursing kitten, making soft hungry mewls as she worked her way along.

Lolly was stroking Kitten's head and shoulders and making encouraging sounds, her body undulating in slow waves in response to the younger girl's touches. Missy flinched and jerked her eyes away from the tableau at her feet when she felt a touch on her face. Her eyes flashed to see that Kennedy had moved to her side and was staring at her intently. His voice was a soft murmur, "Aren't they lovely?"

Missy nodded imperceptively and turned her regard back down to the women at her feet. Kennedy continued speaking, "It showed character that you wished to take full responsibility for the errors made here tonight, but my girl there is never anything so simple to have all responsibility laid at a single person's feet." He chuckled, "Though, literally, things do seem to have landed there for you."

Lolly was starting to pant and whimper as Kitten began to focus her attentions on the older woman's breasts and then moving slowly down to the eagerly spread legs. Kennedy's voice was amused, "Lolly loves to have Kitten go down on her. I rarely allow it. It could be argued that she may have taken a small advantage of my instructions, but she will not come so it can also be argued she was inspired to aide in her own torment. I will have to think on this."

Missy had sensed a building feeling of sexual tension in her body as she watched the one woman making love to the other. A soft dull ache had begun in her loins, and she pressed her thighs together, feeling the wet slickness growing there. When Mick moved, starting to strip off his clothing, missy felt her heart sinking. The idea of him having sex with Lolly oddly did not inspire jealousy but at the same time, to be forced to watch made her feel nervous and she wished she could somehow look away. She remembered his words to her earlier this evening before they had even come to this place. "I will fuck other people and, as my slave, you will be happy for me that I am finding pleasure in another's body." She wondered if she could do that. She thought about how Kennedy seemed to like watching Lolly with Kitten and wondered why she found that natural. 

Lolly's sounds were soft but tense. Clearly she was very excited, but her whimpers seemed to contain fear as much as pleasure. Missy wondered what it would be like to seek pleasure, knowing that it would have no culmination. She wondered if she would ever be able to fend off her climax. There was no question in her head that she did not have the ability now, but it seemed so impossible to ever attain it. 

Kennedy spoke sharply, "Enough of these delays; Kitten, come here."

Kitten made a soft protesting growl, but obediently crawled to Kennedy's feet. She looked up at him and meowed loudly, licking her lips. Kennedy stroked her face and then to missy's consternation lifted the front of his caftan. Kitten gave a happy mew and dived under the tent, clearly bringing her mouth to his cock. Missy blinked at the vision of the round bottom with the tail slowly sinuously wriggling as the girl busied herself under the cover of her Master's robe. 

Lolly struggled to her hands and knees, her head lifted, looking up at missy and her Master. When Mick took her, it was rough and sudden, his entry into her almost knocking her off balance. He reached up and took her shoulders in his hands to brace himself and began to piston into her hard, slamming into her almost brutally. Missy could hear the sharp slap of his hips against Lolly's ass forcing sharp almost pained grunts from her lips. Lolly grated out, "Yes! Hard like that." 

Lolly's face was a mask of torment, her teeth clenched and her brow furrowed. Soft whining moans were leaking from her lips. But her eyes were open wide and gazing up at Kennedy, open and filled with agony, communicating to her Master every nuance of her struggle. When Mick switched the grip of one of his hand to her thick shoulder length blond hair, jerking her face up in and even steeper plane of supplication, she groaned out, "Yes, for you, all for you Master."

Slowly Kennedy slid down to sit on the floor; his knees spread wide, the form of Kitten almost completely hidden under the white caftan. His hands were resting on the rising and falling bulge that was kitten's head. When Mick shuddered and came, jerking on Lolly's hair to lunge even more violently against her, a tiny shudder shook through missy as she watched Lolly's eyes bulge out in pain and sexual torment. Missy could feel her own cunt, clenching and spasming in protest at its empty state. She realized she was not so much jealous of Mick as envious of Lolly. It was everything she could do to contain the soft pleading whine that rose up in her throat.

Mick did not release his grip on Lolly's hair. He jerked his cock out of her and pulled her around to face his crotch. His words were rough and callous, "Suck it, bitch. Keep it hard. We are far from finished."

Kennedy snorted in laughter, "Fucking teenagers, no refractory periods. No wonder she dreams of fucking you." He tipped his head up and looked at missy, "Lolly is so jealous of you."

Missy looked down at him in confusion, but he was once again watching closely as Lolly began to vigorously bob her head on Mick's still erect cock. Soon he shoved her onto her back and, gripping her hands in his and pinning her to the floor, began to slowly and sensually fuck her. Missy could not see Mick's face; she could see the way his dark hair was sticking to the back of his neck, soaked in sweat, the muscles in his arms tense and quivering as he held Lolly's arms above her head, and the way his ass clenched when he would bottom out deep in Lolly's cunt. She knew that feeling; that bump and grind of his pelvis against hers. Each time his ass would tense, she could feel an echoing pang as her own cunt would tighten in recall. Missy realized her body was rocking and swaying in time with the bodies surging beneath her, her legs spread now and her hips thrusting out seeking something, anything to meet this growing agony of need. Mick dropped Lolly's hands and grabbed her legs lifting them high pressing them almost up around her ears and began to move more determinedly. He looked up at missy and, seeing her primal movements, grated out. "Good girl, that's the attitude." He was lunging hard and deep, fucking Lolly, but his eyes were locked on missy's face, "Yes, missy, look at me. I am fucking you, missy. Feel me fucking you."

Lolly was tense and still under Mick, her face turned toward Kennedy. Each lunge into her forced an agonized whimper from her lips; her face was contorted with pent up passion. 

As missy watched Mick's lips pull back and tremble with effort, seeing his climax taking over his body, forcing his cock deep and shuddering with each spurt of his come deep in this other woman's cunt, she felt a flood of heat in her empty cunt and her hips jerked and shuddered as a small silent orgasm shook her. A small tide of moisture oozed from missy as her cunt clutched and clenched, and a few soft drops fell from between her spread legs onto the mat beside Lolly's tense and contorted face.




Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 03



Missy stood on trembling legs and blinked in surprise. A wave of uncertainty shook her. She knew that Lolly was not supposed to come and now, to her embarrassment, she had come from just watching Mick fucking someone else. 

Mick's voice was proud, "Good girl, missy. Very good girl." 

At his words of praise, missy smiled a shaky smile. She silently mouthed the words, "Thank you, Mick Sir."

Mick pulled himself free and she saw the sight of his slowly subsiding cock, shining wet with fluids. For the first time missy found herself lunging toward him, fighting the shackles that held her standing against the wall. Mick looked up in surprise and seeing her eyes locked on his cock, smiled. "You want this?"

Missy nodded frantically, twisting and straining to reach him. Her mouth open, and for the first time a soft pleading whine rose up in her chest. 

Kennedy laughed and pushed Kitten out from under his caftan, "Go tend your Lolly. Clean her up. But be very careful. If she comes you both will suffer my wrath." Kitten scrambled to kneel between Lolly's spread legs and began to delicately clean Lolly with tiny little laps of her tongue. Lolly flinched and twitched with each soft touch. 

Slowly the older man levered himself to his feet. He groaned, "Fucking old knees. I should have made one of you younger folks fetch me my chair." Once he was on his feet, he looked at Mick. "Do you want me to let her go?"

Mick was still standing nude, and he nodded. As soon as the shackles were loose missy dropped to her knees and crawled to Mick. As her face came close to his wet and shining cock, she looked up at his face and noiselessly mouthed, "Please." When he nodded, missy began to slowly carefully lick him clean. The flavor was strong with the salty sweet taste of Lolly and the richer salty bitter taste of his come. Missy could feel her cunt quivering as the flavor and scent filled her senses. She found herself making soft greedy whimpers as she thoroughly cleaned every drop of fluid from him. 

Once he was completely cleaned she took him one last time completely into her mouth and held him there for just a few seconds, burying her nose in the still damp hair at the base of his cock and inhaling deeply. An electric thrill shot through her as she felt him flex and twitch in her mouth. Again an unexpected shudder of pleasure shook through her as another little orgasm ignited in her core. A soft rhythmic groan of pleasure escaped her.

Kennedy was watching her closely, "She just came again didn't she?"

Mick pulled away and looked down at her, "Missy, is that true? Did you just come again?"

Missy felt her face heating up. Every ounce of her being just wanted to bury her face in Mick's groin again. But she nodded obediently and said in a nervous voice, "Yes, Mick Sir. Did I do something wrong? I didn't do it on purpose. It has just been happening." Realizing she was starting to babble a little bit, missy bit her lip and lowered her head.

Kennedy laughed, "Well that is something." He walked over, grabbed her collar, and lifted her to her feet. "Look at me, missy. Did you come when you were watching?"

Missy nodded; her face was a mask of embarrassment. "Yes, Sir."

"And you came again just now when you were cleaning Mick's cock off?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Does this happen very often, just coming without being touched?"

"Um... sometimes, but it was when I was younger. When I was nervous, afraid or excited about something and it would just sort of explode. I didn't know what it was until I was in my teens. But now, um... lately... it has started happening again. Tonight when I was waiting for Mick, I had been kneeling for a long time and I was very nervous and when I heard him coming in, walking down the stairs, it happened again. They are little ones and very sudden, like little explosions. They kind of happen without warning. I don't know how to make them stop."

The older man chuckled, "You are a little firecracker aren't you? Do they leave you feeling satisfied?"

Missy blushed and shook her head, "No, Sir, not satisfied at all."

Kennedy erupted with laughter, "And honest too." He let go of her collar and looked down at Lolly and Kitten. Kitten had curled up in a ball next to Lolly and was purring. "You two go on back to the ballroom, no dancing." Lolly and Kitten jumped to their feet and quickly departed.

Kennedy turned to Mick, "I would not punish her for this. Explore it and exploit it. Perhaps she can learn to control it, perhaps not. I would not be surprised if you could teach this one to come on command with very little preparation. She has a very short fuse." He was laughing at his pun as he walked out of the room.

Mick was pulling on his clothes and he looked at missy, "So, my little student, you have seen a lot today. Do you have any questions?"

Missy slowly lowered herself to her knees, "I have a thousand questions, but I think I would like to think about them a little before I ask them. Mostly I want to know, Mick Sir, if I did okay?"

Mick gave one of her braids a little tug, "Yes, missy, for the first time here you did okay." Still using her braid as a leash he lifted her to her feet and pulled her body into an embrace, holding her close. His lips were soft and gentle as he kissed her, his hand on the back of her neck, warm and strong, pressed her face to his. When her hands came up to wrap around his neck he pulled away and murmured, "Hands down, missy, clasp them behind your back." His mouth took hers again, kissing her deeply, endlessly until her legs threatened to collapse under her. 

Her eyes were closed and her lips fluttering with her gasping breaths when he released her. She leaned heavily against his chest and he could feel her heart beating heavily in her chest. Mick's voice was a soft growl in her ear, "Come for me, missy." 

A sharp spasm of excitement shook through missy, not an orgasm but an incredible rush of excitement. She tensed, consciously clenching and unclenching the muscles of her cunt, pressing her thighs together. A tiny whimper of frustration leaked out of her lips and she ground her crotch against him, trying with all her might to obey but not able to make it happen. It was there, she could feel it lurking just out of reach. Her words were a soft desperate plea, "Can't, help me, almost." Mick reached down and cupped her whole sex in his warm hand pressed; gently vibrating his hand like he had the first time they were together. Missy groaned and begged, "Say it again. Say the words again."

"Missy, come for me, now."

A wave of exultation seemed to lift her higher as the she exploded and wave after wave of ecstasy flowed over her. Her legs failed and Mick was literally holding her up with the hand between her legs. Missy made a strangled sound as two of his fingers slipped deep and pressed hard inside her, sending another strong wave of sensation through her whole body. Instead of waning it seemed like the waves of feeling just kept growing. Each time he lunged his hand deep into her, Mick would command, "Come for me," and missy would convulse around his fingers inside her.

When missy woke she was laying on the floor and Mick was kneeling between her legs. His fingers were still deep inside her cunt and as he pressed them into her she felt her body flinch and quiver. As soft sob of exhaustion welled up inside her; it was almost painful now. The muscles of her belly and thighs cramping and the inside of her cunt felt raw and sore. Another sob followed and to her confusion, she began to cry in earnest, deep soft sobs shaking through her. 

Mick's fingers inside her stilled and she whimpered in distress. It was almost like she was afraid that it would end, that when he pulled his fingers out, her heart would come out in his hand. Her voice was hoarse and naked, "Don't stop, never stop." She tried to push against his hand but he pressed down on her belly forcing her to be still. 

Mick leaned down and gently took her whole cleft in his mouth, holding it warm and wet, not licking or teasing, just keeping it trapped in his mouth as he slowly almost imperceptively drew his fingers from her. The sensation of his mouth was so soft, so warm, so infinitely soothing that missy let out a long soft moan and whispered "Oh yes, that's so nice." She did not protest as she felt his hand leaving her. 

They lay still like that for what seemed like several minutes and then Mick slid up and took her into his arms, lying on the floor next to her. 

"Why were you crying?"

Missy gulped and choked down a giddy laugh, "I am sorry, Mick Sir, I don't really know. I guess I just sort of felt overwhelmed. All this stuff has been happening tonight, and then it felt so strong, almost too strong. I wanted it to stop, but I was afraid for it to stop at the same time. I felt like crying before but now I feel kind of like laughing." Missy stopped and fought down another crazy wave of giggles, "Mick Sir, please can we go home?"

Mick stood and pulled her to her feet, "Soon, my little student, soon." He kissed her on the forehead and attached her leash to his belt. "We should thank our hosts and then we will have to find you something to wear home."

Lolly helped missy dig through the lost and found. She found a black loose knit dress that fit a little better than the spandex number Mick has chosen for her but left very little to the imagination. It had a very low cut back that went down almost to her butt crack. Missy turned around in front of the mirror and smiled. While it was not as tight, it draped in a way that seemed to emphasize her nakedness underneath. And the fabric was almost translucent, when she turned in the light, the shimmer of her skin shown through. Missy smiled, "I like this one better, but if you find that other dress save it for me. Mick picked it out for me and I want to keep it."

Lolly nodded, "I know what you mean. I still have the first outfit that my Master bought for me. It doesn't come anywhere near fitting anymore but it still has so many memories." Lolly gave her a hug. "My Master was right. This is a special time, when you have just given yourself to your Master. I can remember how my feelings seemed all crazy. I was wildly happy one minute and terrified the next. Hopefully our Masters will let us be friends. I would love to hear how things are going for you."

Mick did not seem to notice she was wearing a different dress and missy felt a little pang of frustration. She had been a little nervous he might be angry that the first dress was lost and then had a little fantasy he would notice that the new dress was so much nicer. His apparent unconcern for the whole issue was a little bit of a disappointment.

Missy stood still and silent as Mick spoke to Kennedy at the door. "I want to leave my truck here tonight we will come back tomorrow to pick it up. I don't want her driving home alone."

"That will be fine, my boy. If it is not too early come up to the house."

Missy walked barefoot out to her car with Mick's hand on her leash. As they walked by there was a small group of men leaning up against a car, smoking and passing a bottle around between them. Missy kept her eyes down. One of them raised the hand holding the bottle as if to offer to share and called to Mick, "Evening."

Mick nodded and grunted curtly, "Evening," but he did not stop walking.

As they passed by, missy heard one of the others make a derisive comment, "Kennedy's dick," and the other men laughed nervously. Mick stopped and turned to face the men. His face was perfectly calm, but there was a sudden tension in the air. The laughter instantly stopped and then the little group seemed to evaporate as they hurried back up to the house.

Mick did not say a word, just gave missy's leash a soft jerk and continued to the car. For a brief moment missy was tempted to ask who they were, but then she remembered the clothes pin and swallowed down the words. Mick took her to the passenger door and opened it and, after she climbed in, dropped her shoes on the floor and reached across and fastened her seat belt for her. 

It was late and very dark on the little street that missy lived on. She did not worry too much about Mick being seen as they drove up and through the automatic garage door. She sat very still in the car waiting for his instructions. Mick sat in the driver's seat looking forward for a little while and then took a deep breath, "It is late, missy. I am beat. I put in some extra shifts this week so I could get the weekend off. Let's go to bed."


Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please do me the kindness of rating and leaving me feedback. Constructive and/or critical, public or private, raving or troll; I love to hear from you

To those who leave anonymous feedback, I regret I cannot respond to you individually. Please accept my appreciation in advance. 

Special thanks to Dani for her wonderful help editing. 

xantu



Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 04



Training Missy Chapter 4: New Lessons

Enjoy

xantu


Missy woke to the familiar sensation of Mick touching her, a casual finger tracing the contours of her face. She opened her eyes and blinked as she focused on the sight of his black eyes looking over the edge of the bed at her as she slept on the floor beside him. Pushing her blankets aside, she pulled herself up to her knees, her eyes downcast. Almost inaudibly she murmured, "Good morning, Mick Sir, how may I serve you?"

He lay back and looked at her analytically, "Pretty good, arch your back and spread your knees a little more." His eyes scanned her, "I like how your hair looks kind of kinky from the braids and still really messy, in a cloud around your face. You look like you have been totally slutty all night and are ready for more."

The corner of missy's mouth twitched and she struggled to compose her features. "Thank you, Mick Sir.

"Touch yourself; show me how slutty you really are."

Missy's eyes looked up towards his and she could feel her face turning warm, but she did not hesitate. Her fingers slid down into her folds and began to work their way in and out of her passage. 

Mick's voice turned husky, "Fuck yourself with your fingers, push three of them up your cunt."

Missy found herself biting down on her lower lip, her eyes locked on her hand as she slowly sensually worked her fingers in and out, breathing deeply in perfect time with her plunging fingers. The room was silent except for the soft wet squishing sounds of her fingers. The rich scent of her building excitement rose up around her. 

Slowly missy could feel her muscles tensing, trembling as a heat built in her body. Wordless whimpers began to rise up with each soft gasping breath. Her whole arm was rigid and moving more quickly. Just as her climax approached, Mick's voice penetrated her awareness, "Stop."

Missy froze, her eyes clenched closed, holding her fingers motionless still buried deep inside her. She breathed in short gasps from her open mouth. Slowly she opened her eyes, raising her gaze to meet his. A deep trembling shudder shook through her as she slowly pulled her fingers out. Mick's voice was sharp, "Did you come?"

Missy had to swallow before she could speak, her voice was low and shaky, "No, Mick Sir." 

"Take your wet fingers and rub them across your face."

The smell of her juices was strong and sent a small spasm quivering through her as she slowly smeared them across her face. 

"Lick your fingers off."

Missy realized she had been staring into his dark hypnotic eyes and nervously dropped her eyes as she sucked the flavor from her fingers. She could feel her cunt throbbing and clenching, refusing to calm. It was like his words, his eyes watching her, the things he was telling her to do were holding her there on the edge, teetering.

Forcing her breathing to calm, she clasped her hands behind her back, once more arching her back and staring at the floor. Mick was still and silent, but she could feel his eyes on her. He climbed from the bed and moved to stand in front of her. Missy found her eyes staring at his erect cock, inches from her face. Unconsciously she licked her lips and leaned toward him, eager to feel him in her mouth. Again his words stopped her movement, "No, keep your mouth shut. Be still." His hand was strong, gripping her hair as he began to rub his hot flesh across her face, slowly grinding his hardness against her eyes, cheeks and lips. Missy greedily inhaled the strong scent of his crotch. In addition to the familiar smell of his body, she could smell the scent of Lolly on him from the night before. 

Missy found her body turning soft, pliant, swaying with his movements against her, surrendering to his hand controlling her. Abruptly his grip in her hair tightened and she gasped in sudden pain as he lifted her and threw her face down over the edge of the bed. In one smooth movement he slammed into her from behind. Missy grunted with his sudden entry and then arched her back, pressing back against him, wanting nothing more than to feel him deeper and harder inside her. A soft wordless groan of fulfillment broke from her lips. 

Mick kept his grip on her hair and began to thrust hard and fast. Each plunge into her filled her to her depths. Missy could feel him battering against her womb. Each thrust forced urgent words from her lips. Almost incoherent, missy groaned out, "Yes, fuck yes, fuck me hard, yes." It seemed like all her awareness had dwindled to her cunt and the hard cock slamming into her over and over. As the sensation built to a peak, she tensed and began to shudder with the pressure of her pending explosion. 

Mick leaned down low over her and growled, "Don't come without my permission. Beg me for it."

A panicked tone rose up in missy's voice as she wailed, "Oh god, please, please, please. It's here. I can't, oh god, I can't..." A strangled scream interrupted her words as she began to convulse with her climax. Mick growled and lunged deep as he unloaded deep inside her.

Missy lay under him, trembling with apprehension as he eased himself slowly in and out of her still clenching cunt. Her voice was hoarse, "Mick Sir, I tried, I just couldn't. I don't know how."

"Shut up. Remember your lessons."

Missy closed her mouth and repeated in her mind, "Shut up and listen, obey, respect, and attitude," but she could not help but wonder how she could obey when she did not know how. 

When Mick finally slid from her, he used her hair to pull her up, turning her to face his cock and with a single glance to confirm his wishes; she began to clean him with her mouth. A thrill of excitement made her cunt clench and missy felt a soft tide of hot liquid start to trickle from her cunt. Instinctively she reached back and pressed her hand against her cunt, holding it in. A soft whimper of joy shook through her as she engulfed his flagging cock in her mouth. Mick sighed, "Good, always do this unless I tell you different." Missy could not help the impulsive thought that that was a good thing, a really good thing.

As she continued to lick and suck, pressing her nose into the fur of his belly, inhaling over and over the heady scent of his cock, his hand tightened in her hair again, pressing her face even more firmly against his belly. His voice was thoughtful, "You came without permission."

A wave of confusion and frustration with herself swept through her, and she lay very still and passive under his grip, gagged by his flesh in her mouth. He had held that same grip in her hair since they had started and she could feel her scalp really starting to hurt. She wondered if he was going to tear her hair out. In many ways she savored the sharp stinging pull on her scalp, making her whole head feel like it was in a vice, totally controlled by his hand. A tiny hopeful thought coursed through her, maybe he would beat her, she had not felt the whip in a week and she realized how much she missed it.

"Missy, I expect you to have more control. You watched Lolly last night. You know it is possible."

A small wave of protest rose up in missy. Yes possible for Lolly, but she was not sure if she shared that ability. She wanted to ask him how to do that, but his hand kept her trapped with his cock filling her mouth and her face pressed against his stomach. Missy reminded herself to 'shut up and listen', that he had not directly asked her a question. She focused on softly, rhythmically sucking on the flesh in her mouth, savoring the flavor and the sensation. A soft wave of exultation coursed through her as she felt him begin to swell and press against the back of her throat. She fluttered her tongue as it pressed against the sensitive underside and cautiously made a deliberate swallowing action, trying to adjust to the pressure that was beginning to make her feel the urge to gag.

Mick jerked her face away from his crotch and stood abruptly. Missy leaned toward him, unwilling to lose this contact, wanting more, mindlessly fighting against his hand in her hair. A soft pleading groan came up and out of her gaping lips. Mick gave her an impatient shake, "Stop it."

Missy blinked and froze, then licked her lips and swallowed. She turned her smoldering eyes up to his face and then looked away fearful of the anger she saw in his eyes. 

"In the future you will always ask permission to come. You will beg for it and you will wait for permission."

A wail of frustration rose up, "Mick Sir, I can't. I can't make it stop. I don't know how."

"Pay attention to your body. Tell me if you cannot contain it. Beg for my help."

"Yes, Sir." Missy's voice sounded doubtful.

"In addition I want you to tell me about every orgasm you experience without permission as soon as possible. During those days we cannot be together, you will start to keep a journal. You will record if you have had an orgasm and what led up to it. I want you to write down what you were thinking about, what feelings you were having, and most of all how the orgasm felt and how you felt afterwards."

"Yes, Sir."

Mick looked down at her, "Why are you touching your cunt?"

"I am sorry, Sir. Your come was starting to leak out and I was just holding it inside until I could wash."

"Eat it, every time you can, eat it."

Carefully keeping her hand cupped under her crotch, she raised herself to a more vertical position and deliberately pressed down with her abdominal muscles, tightening her cunt. A small flood of hot liquid filled her palm. She brought her sticky fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean. Over and over she reached down and scooped her fingers deep into her cunt and licked off the creamy fluid.

The action of straining with her muscles made her very aware that she had not yet used the bathroom and that she needed to go. Both her bladder and bowels felt full. Missy raised her hand. "Yes, missy?"

"This student would ask for permission to use the bathroom."

A sharp look came over his face, "Number one or number two?"

Missy flushed in embarrassment, "Both, Mick Sir."

"Sure, go ahead."

As missy quickly climbed off the bed and began to walk toward the bathroom, she realized he was following close behind. She turned and flashed a panicked look at him. He gave her an impatient look, "A good student keeps no secrets from her teacher. A good student has no modesty or shame about her body or its functions. A good student is on display at all times."

Missy could not keep the horrified look from her face, but she turned and forced her faltering feet to take her into the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and stared miserably at her feet. It took several minutes before she could relax enough to let her urine flow. She quickly wiped and stood up.

"I thought you needed to take a shit."

"I... um... can't."

"You constipated?"

"Um... No, Sir. It's just... um... with you standing there... um... I just don't have to go any more." 

Mick shrugged, "Well, go ahead and get in the shower. Wash me off."

When her hands began to dwell too long as she washed his cock, he pushed her away. "Give it a rest."

Missy cooked blueberry pancakes with sausages for breakfast and knelt at his feet as he ate. He once again gave her his plate with her meal already cut into bite sized pieces, but this time there was no fork on the plate. Mick slid his chair back and watched, and when she looked at him questioningly and delicately picked up a bite with her fingers, he grunted and shook his head. "Lean over, missy, eat from the dish without your hands."

Missy carefully gathered her hair into one of her hands, holding it up and to one side and leaned down and began to eat. She was keenly aware of her nudity and her humble position. And then to her complete embarrassment she felt an ominous rumble of gas in her belly. She tightened her whole body, trying to keep from farting as she leaned over.

By the time she had finished cleaning up the kitchen, cramps were making her wince and squirm. Missy turned to Mick and raised her hand. He raised an eyebrow, "Bathroom?"

"Yes, Sir, number two."

"Really?"

Missy cringed, "Yes, Sir. Really."

Again he followed her into the bathroom. Again she looked miserably at the floor, trying desperately to relax enough to release the pressure in her gut. Finally as she sat there, missy miserably raised her hand. When he nodded curtly at her, she mumbled, "Mick Sir, it's hard."

"The shit is hard?"

"No, Sir, shitting is hard. I need to go. But I... um... can't relax." 

Mick looked thoughtful, "So if I went away, you think you could do it?"

Missy nodded wretchedly, "Yes, Sir."

"Okay, this time I am going to stand outside the door. But I want you to tell me exactly when the shit starts coming out of you and do not wipe or get up. Just tell me when it starts and when you are finished."

Missy winced and nodded, "Yes, Sir."

It still took several minutes, but eventually nature won over and she could feel the feces start to slowly slide out of her. Her voice was strangled with embarrassment, "Pooping, Sir."

Mick's voice was amused, "Good girl."

The ludicrousness of the whole situation made a tiny hysterical giggle bubble up. She choked it down as she called dutifully, "Done, Sir."

Mick walked in and gestured peremptorily, "Stand up and lean over. Show me your ass."

Missy fought the urge to beg him not to make her do this, but she gritted her teeth and obeyed his commands. She stiffened when she felt him wiping her with toilet paper. He pulled her up to stand beside him, "Missy, look in the toilet and tell me what you see."

"I see poop, Sir."

"It's shit, missy, nothing special, nothing bad. It is part of being alive. Missy, I don't find your shit especially repulsive or erotic. Eventually I will expect you to stop this ridiculous modesty about your shit. If you can eat, fuck, sleep, cry around me, I would expect you should be able to shit too."

"I am sorry, Sir. It's just always been an issue for me. When I was little..."

Mick held up his hand, cutting her off, "I am well aware that this was an issue. That is why I am focusing on it. I would not have even thought of asking this of you if it was easy."

Missy felt a shock of understanding. She had been thinking that he did not know; that he was somehow doing this without understanding how difficult it was for her. The realization that he was deliberately pushing at the things that were most challenging for her, made her head spin. The soft dry voice in the back of her mind, the voice she was starting to think of as sober, thoughtful Miss Smith, commented that there was a kind of evil genius behind this tactic. Her shame was more than a metaphor, it was central to Sarah's existence.

Missy wondered if Sarah would ever be able to let go of the poop, if the wounded little girl inside her would ever go away. A surge of hope filled her; she wanted nothing in the world more than to have Sarah driven out of her. It seemed like the pain and pleasure pushed Sarah further and further away, but the humiliation and fear drew her back in. 

Again the dry inner voice observed that Mick did not seem disgusted. Her mother had always been disgusted. A terrible, offended, hateful expression always twisted her mother's features each time she had to deal with little Sarah's incontinence. She sensed none of this from her Master. A warm flood of relief and gratitude filled her and she dropped to her knees and tentatively raised her hand, "Yes, missy?"

Her voice quivered with emotion, "This student wishes to thank her teacher for this lesson. This student understands now what her teacher is trying to teach her."

"And what is that?"

"To not hold onto the past, to let go of who I was and work at becoming something better so that I may serve you better." Missy could not help but grin and pun, "You are teaching me to let go of all that old shit."

Mick roared with laughter, "Excellent, my little student. That was excellent and reflects so well a good attitude." He reached down and caressed her face, "What reward would you ask for such an insightful comment?"

"Mick Sir, if it would not be too troublesome, I have not had a review of my first lessons in almost a week. I find my good marks fading and I find that distressing."

"I am pleased that you ask for more lessons. A good student always seeks knowledge."

Missy leaned against his hand and smiled happily.

Mick looked thoughtful, "Missy, you have a nice maple tree in your back yard. Pull on a coat and go out and cut me some nice switches. Get two or three about as thick as your finger and about as long as your arm."

She felt her mouth go dry with anticipation, "Yes, Sir." She jumped up and trotted upstairs to her coat closet and pulled on a knee length yellow plastic rain coat. When she went into the back yard, she blinked at the bright sunshine and blue sky and realized she looked a little out of place in her coat with naked legs and bare feet sticking out underneath. She quickly grabbed some pruning shears from the garden shed and cut three branches from the tree. As she turned to hurry back into the house she saw her back neighbor standing in his yard, looking at her over the fence with a curious look on his face. She waved and gaily called, "Greetings," and then trotted back into the house. 

She was giggling at the memory of his hesitant wave and puzzled expression as she hung up the coat and carried the switches down to Mick. "What are you laughing about?"

"One of my neighbors saw me in my rain coat and bare legs. It is a bright beautiful spring day. No need for a rain coat. I must have looked like a potential flasher."

"You should have done it."

Missy froze and it was all rational, careful Miss Smith who protested, "Oh good lord... Um... I mean, Mick Sir, please, I don't want to start any rumors. I have to work."

Mick laughed, "Okay, not where we live, but maybe somewhere else?"

Missy dropped to her knees, "Mick Sir, you are my Master and I will obey you." Then she could not help but mutter, "If I get arrested I hope you will bail me out of jail. And be willing to support me because I suddenly become unemployable."

Mick's voice was amused as he gently chided, "What kind of an attitude is that?"

Missy looked up at his face her eyes sparkling with humor. She cautiously joked, "Um... a shitty one?"

The corner of Mick's mouth twitched, but he held up his hand cautioning her. "Be very, very careful with little saucy comments like that, my little student. You could easily find your lessons becoming much more exacting." He picked up the switches and swung them experimentally through the air. They made an ominous whistling sound as the cut through the air. 

Missy found her body tensing and quivering at the sound. Cautiously she raised her hand, and when he nodded, she asked, "Mick Sir, please will there be a gag?"

"Do you want one?"

"Yes, Sir, please."

"You choose. You can be tied or gagged, but not both."

Missy's eyes looked up at him, puzzled, "Not tied?" She was so surprised at the idea that she completely forgot to use the respectful words.

"One or the other."

Missy thought about the sight of her neighbor being out in the warm sunny afternoon and she blinked at the thought of him hearing any screams coming up from her basement, "Then I choose the gag." She felt a wave of mixed emotions as he held up the gag and pushed it into her open mouth. It felt frightening and reassuring all at once. She bit down on the firm rubber and the sensation of her jaws tensing and flexing seemed to calm the fearful feelings.

"I will expect you to hold your body still." Mick tied a length of rope hanging from the central eyebolt in the archway. "Hold onto this. When you let go, we will stop." Missy reached up and wrapped the rope around her hand a couple of times and Mick corrected her, "No, don't wrap it like that. Just hold onto it. Use both hands; grip it in your palms." Missy adjusted her grip and he nodded, "Good, now hold it just a little lower, and bend slightly at the waist. Keep your back straight and your feet spread apart." He pressed down a little on the small of her back, "Stick your ass out a little more."




Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 04



Missy felt him stroking her back, "You are right, your marks have faded. We will remedy that soon. We will start out easy, using a variety of different tools and techniques. I will be able to gauge your response from the way your body moves and your cries behind the gag." His hand slowly caressed in a slow circle on her ass and then cracked down sharply on one her cheeks, the swat, sharp and exacting, sent a shock through her body. And then his hand was back, slowly stroking in soothing circles, only striking again after her body relaxed and leaned toward him seeking more. The exercise continued at this maddeningly slow pace. When missy sighed in impatience and thrust her ass out at him seeking more, Mick softly cued her, "Remember your posture. Waiting is part of submitting."

Missy nodded and rested her cheek on her outstretched arm, focusing on holding her body still and passive, surrendering to the measured pace. The only sound she made was soft pained grunts with each crack of his hand against her reddened ass. When Mick finally pulled his belt from his pants, Missy quivered and sighed in anticipation. His words resonated with approval, "I can tell you love my belt." And Missy nodded, thinking to herself how intimate it felt, to be beaten with something he wore all the time on his person. The searing pain of the belt was sharper, cleaner than the spanking, and she found her cries matching the tone of the pain coursing through her body. Each blow seemed to have an evolution, first there was an impact and a sound that almost echoed in her ears and then a searing heat would build until it was a sharp flaming agony before fading to a deep pervasive heat. Each muffled scream seemed to build and dwindle with the pain. 

Again there was a wait between blows. Mick seemed to deliberately give her time to adjust to the pain, to encompass and understand the nuance of each ticking second. He worked his way from the backs of her knees to her shoulder blades. Her body would surge and undulate, swaying from her grasp on the rope with each shock. Each blow would wait until the shudders of pain would subside and she would soften and open to the next blow. Missy found her mind slowing and her body began to have a loose warm sensation. 

Mick stopped and ran his hand across her welted flesh, gleaming with sweat. His voice seemed to come from far away, "So beautiful, so fucking beautiful." When he lifted the switch, he spoke softly, "This will be more intense."

Missy heard the characteristic whistle of the switch as he swung it through the air. This time there was less noise on impact but it felt like the pain sliced into her, cutting across her shoulder blades. There was no build to the pain. It was instant and sharp and once it started, it did not stop. It scorched through her, consuming all thought. She felt like a band of fire had been laid across her skin. Her hands gripped the rope convulsively as her knees buckled for a second and a shrill squall of agony was ripped from her lungs. Just as quickly missy straightened her legs and resumed the posture. Soft whining whimpers shook through her and she found herself leaning toward him, instantly craving more of this, impatient for this white hot agony. Mick's voice was soft and reassuring, "Do not seek more; just experience what you have. Embrace it. Understand it. Each time I will seek your consent and you must acquiesce. I will need to hear your wish. Remember, to make it stop, all you need to do is let go of the rope." 

Mick asked, "Again?" Missy grunted and nodded her desire. Again the agony slashed through her. This time she had tightened her legs, forcing them to hold her weight and she felt herself rise up on her toes as a shrill whistling screech escaped out of her nose.

The pace remained deliberate, but all sense of time had evaporated. Missy stood hanging from the rope, her eyes clenched shut, and her jaws clenched around the gag in her mouth. The pain seemed to reach a kind of plateau, a constant seething roar. In became her central focus, the only thing in her awareness. All else was peripheral. Mick's voice was just part of it, a vibration rising up through the sea of lava she floated upon, more of a sensation than a sound.

And then it began to change, the pain remained, the central blinding reason for her existence. But her agony seemed to ignite an enhanced awareness, she realized that she could feel everything with a detail that she had never achieved before. She could hear her heart beating and the rush of blood through her veins. Not only could she feel the rope in her hands, she could feel its texture. She could feel the prickle of sweat breaking out on her body and then the soft slow drops as they moved across her skin. Each breath she pulled in through her nose and around the gag, felt cool, almost icy as it flowed into her lungs. Even the floor under her feet was cool and smooth.

Her entire body felt weightless, and aflame. No, she was not 'on fire' she was the fire. She was a flickering flame. Now when she felt Mick ask, 'again,' she felt an exultation and her muffled cries behind the gag were joyous celebrations of the agony he would soon bestow upon her. 

Something seemed to be growing within her, fed by the pain. Each blow lifted her higher and missy realized the pain was somehow transmuting into something else, taking her with it. No longer making a sound she swayed under the storm inside her, barely able to answer Mick's queries. The only thing that fueled her external awareness enough to answer him was the conviction that it had to continue. She was right there, teetering on the verge of something that had no name, but something she must attain. 

Missy had no memory of her hands slipping down the rope, her body slowly subsiding to the floor, writhing in her paroxysm. It did not feel like an orgasm, it was bigger than that and did not come from any one place in her body. It was like her entire awareness just suddenly expanded, and for an instant she was part of everything. Than like a candle in the wind she was extinguished. 

When she woke, missy was laying on the bed on her stomach. The amazing hyperawareness was still there, she could feel the sheets underneath her, the slightest movement of air sent cascades of tingles across her skin. When Mick's hand touched her back, smoothing some cool ointment across her welts, the sensation was amplified and sent echoes resounding through her. She felt her body shudder.

Oddly his voice seemed muted, "Does that hurt?"

Missy worked her jaw and realized that the gag was gone. Her voice was a husky rasp, "Not pain. Feels amazing." Then as her awareness returned, she coughed and cleared her throat, her vocal chords raw and sore from screaming, "Oh, Mick Sir, oh my god." Then her voice broke and she could not speak as emotion cascaded over her. There were no words to express what she had gone through. She turned to crane her neck to look in wonder at this man who had given her this thing. His eyes met hers, looking at her with a soft measuring look. She found that her face was wet with tears. She whispered, "Thank you."

His expression softened and he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. "You are welcome, my little student. I want you to rest for a while and then we will drive to Kennedy's and get my truck."

Missy frowned, she remembered Mick saying something to Kennedy about coming back in the morning and it must be getting well into the afternoon by now. She mentally shrugged, this was up to him. He would tell her what to wear and when they were to leave. Oddly, it did not even worry her that they were going to be leaving in the daylight. It was like she had gone through the fire and it had burned away her doubts. She smiled softly and let her head sag to the surface of the bed and let her body float weightless as she tried to comprehend what she had experienced, what she was becoming.


Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please do me the kindness of rating and leaving me feedback. Constructive and/or critical, public or private, raving or troll; I love to hear from you

To those who leave anonymous feedback, I regret I cannot respond to you individually. Please accept my appreciation in advance. 

Special thanks to Dani for her wonderful help editing. 

xantu