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I am a thirty-year-old male who has always fantasized about being dominated by a woman.

Recently I answered a personal ad in an adult newspaper from a dominatrice who said she was accepting applicants for the position of her personal weekend slave. She lived in a town about eighty miles away. It meant a long drive, but I was highly excited at the prospect of my dream coming true. I was confident that she would approve of me, as I have a slender build and have been told by several women that I have a cute little ass. One former girlfriend used to enjoy spanking me and then making me eat her pussy while she watched my butt do a little dance in a mirror.

I took a back-view picture of myself naked and wearing a black leather collar, using the self-timer on my camera. I liked the way my bare ass looked with a bikini tan. I mailed it to the post office box address listed in the ad, and in four days she answered with a short note giving a street address and a time and date. She wanted to see me at nine the following Saturday morning. I was to bring my swimsuit and not be late.

I was nervous when I knocked on the door of her house, but my balls were aching, as I had not come for almost a week. She answered the door in a swimsuit, smiled and said, “Come in, you must be Bart.” I was staring at her beautiful body as I answered, “Yes, ma’am.”

She said, “Remove your clothes, hang them on the hanger behind you and come into the living room.” She turned and walked toward the living room, then turned back, caught me looking at her beautiful ass, and said, “Be quick about it.”

I quickly stripped, and when I pulled down my pants, my cock was sticking straight up from my hard, aching balls. When I entered the living room, she was sitting in an easy chair with a riding crop across her lap. She stared at my cock, then smiled and said, “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” I did as I was told, and she snapped a pair of handcuffs over my wrists. Then she said, “On your knees. Now turn around.”

I knelt in front of her, and she grabbed the hair at the back of my head and pulled my face toward her pussy. I started licking it through the fabric of her swimsuit and she brought the riding crop down hard on my bare ass. I yelped and jumped and she yelled, “I didn’t tell you to suck yet, slave!” Grinding my nose and mouth into her pussy, she continued, “Now listen to me. From now on, if you want to be my slave, you will do exactly as you are told, do you understand?”

I answered a muffled “Yes, ma’am” into her pussy.

“Good, because I may decide to own you and dominate you totally. Is that what you want?”

I lifted my head slightly and said, “Yes, please!” I yelled out as the riding crop assaulted my unsuspecting ass again.

“Keep your face where I put it, and answer me properly when I ask you a question.”

For the next half hour, she recited the many rules and conditions of my slavery. I was to drive to her house Friday afternoons after work and would spend Friday, Saturday and Sunday with her if I was good. The most important rule was that I was never to masturbate. If she ever caught me or even suspected me of masturbating, I would be tied down and severely whipped. I was to obey all orders without hesitation and was not to speak unless asked a question that required an answer. She would tell me what to wear, if anything, and I would be doing all the household chores.

Finally, after many muffled yes-ma’am’s she stood up, hauled me up by my hair and marched me down the hall toward her bedroom. As we turned into a room, I saw a black wooden bench with stirrups and straps, a collection of dildos and anal plugs on a shelf, and a paddle and a whip hanging on the wall, and leaning against the largest dildo on the shelf was the photo I had sent her.

I was shaking and whimpering like a pup as she outfitted me with a wide black slave collar, a cock-ring on my still erect and now dripping cock, a studded leather ring around my balls and black leather anklets with steel rings on my ankles. She stepped back when she finished and said, “You like being dressed as a slave boy, don’t you?” She grabbed me by the hair again, brought me in front of a mirrored wall and said, “Look, sweetie!” — making me look at myself in the large mirrors. “Now, didn’t I ask you a question?” she yelled. I couldn’t remember if she had, but I was already being hauled over to the wooden bench. “It’s time to start your slave training. Bend over.”

The top of the bench was a little higher than my cock, and with my hands still handcuffed behind my back, I had to just sort of fall over onto it, with my feet coming off the floor. The edge of the bench was pushing my cock toward the floor and pushing back on my balls. She clipped what looked like a seat belt over my back and tightened it. The steel rings on my anklets were clipped to chains on either side of the bench, which spread my legs open wide. My ass had never felt so exposed. She grabbed one of my buns very firmly and said, “There, now I’ve got your little butt! From now on, this cute little piece of ass is mine!”

She got a paddle and rubbed it around on my ass before giving me several hard swats with it. “That’s just to warm your little butt up and remind you you’re a slave. Are you going to be a good little slave boy?”

“Yes, Mistress!” I said, almost crying.

She took some lotion from the shelf, squirted a generous amount all over my ass and rubbed it into my cheeks and balls. “I’m going to give this hot little ass something to suck on,” she said. She took down a medium-size anal plug, rubbed lotion all over it and positioned the tip at my virgin hole. She started pushing it in, which caused me to yell. Then, as she pushed it deeper, I sort of squealed. It hurt a lot, but finally it popped into place. Mistress said, “That’s one tight little ass, hon. Ever been fucked?”

“No, Mistress,” I answered.

“We might have to do something about that.”

We were both silent for a few minutes, and then she slipped out of her swimsuit and straddled the bench in front of my face. I wanted so much to suck on her pussy. She gave me a few minutes to dream about it, then reached over me, grabbed the end of the anal plug and started working it in and out of my ass. I started sobbing and she shoved her pussy in my face and said, “Suck it, slave, suck it real good.”

I gladly obeyed and was able to make her come after about ten minutes. She then removed the anal plug only to replace it with a larger one. “If you think that’s big, you’re really going to love my fist,” she said.

She let me off the bench and had me do some housework. While I was doing my chores, I noticed that my clothes were not where I had hung them. I didn’t dare ask her where they were, but maybe it meant she was happy with me. When I finished my chores, we went out by the pool and sunbathed for a while. She had me put on a pair of her bikini bottoms . My poor cock was still trying to stand straight up, as if begging for relief.

Mistress was reading magazines with pictures of naked men in them. She had me lie beside her and told me to look at them with her. After a while she told me to rub some suntan oil on her. While I was doing that, she seemed to fall asleep. I reached inside my suit and started stroking my aching cock. I didn’t want to make myself come; it just felt good to stroke it. Suddenly, Mistress was shouting at me, saying, “You little slut! I told you about that!”

She took me back into the house by my hair, backed me into a corner by the front door and talked to me real close to my face. “Maybe I’ll hold off punishing you until next time, so you can just think about it all week. You know, I think you’ll make a good little slave if you just keep your hands off your cock, sweetie.”

I have spent several long weekends with Mistress since then, and I am now well trained. She owns me totally and does with me exactly as she pleases. The videos prove it

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Naughty Young Men

Storyline

I am a thirty-year-old male who has always fantasized about being dominated by a woman.

Recently I answered a personal ad in an adult newspaper from a dominatrice who said she was accepting applicants for the position of her personal weekend slave. She lived in a town about eighty miles away. It meant a long drive, but I was highly excited at the prospect of my dream coming true. I was confident that she would approve of me, as I have a slender build and have been told by several women that I have a cute little ass. One former girlfriend used to enjoy spanking me and then making me eat her pussy while she watched my butt do a little dance in a mirror.

I took a back-view picture of myself naked and wearing a black leather collar, using the self-timer on my camera. I liked the way my bare ass looked with a bikini tan. I mailed it to the post office box address listed in the ad, and in four days she answered with a short note giving a street address and a time and date. She wanted to see me at nine the following Saturday morning. I was to bring my swimsuit and not be late.

I was nervous when I knocked on the door of her house, but my balls were aching, as I had not come for almost a week. She answered the door in a swimsuit, smiled and said, “Come in, you must be Bart.” I was staring at her beautiful body as I answered, “Yes, ma’am.”

She said, “Remove your clothes, hang them on the hanger behind you and come into the living room.” She turned and walked toward the living room, then turned back, caught me looking at her beautiful ass, and said, “Be quick about it.”

I quickly stripped, and when I pulled down my pants, my cock was sticking straight up from my hard, aching balls. When I entered the living room, she was sitting in an easy chair with a riding crop across her lap. She stared at my cock, then smiled and said, “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” I did as I was told, and she snapped a pair of handcuffs over my wrists. Then she said, “On your knees. Now turn around.”

I knelt in front of her, and she grabbed the hair at the back of my head and pulled my face toward her pussy. I started licking it through the fabric of her swimsuit and she brought the riding crop down hard on my bare ass. I yelped and jumped and she yelled, “I didn’t tell you to suck yet, slave!” Grinding my nose and mouth into her pussy, she continued, “Now listen to me. From now on, if you want to be my slave, you will do exactly as you are told, do you understand?”

I answered a muffled “Yes, ma’am” into her pussy.

“Good, because I may decide to own you and dominate you totally. Is that what you want?”

I lifted my head slightly and said, “Yes, please!” I yelled out as the riding crop assaulted my unsuspecting ass again.

“Keep your face where I put it, and answer me properly when I ask you a question.”

For the next half hour, she recited the many rules and conditions of my slavery. I was to drive to her house Friday afternoons after work and would spend Friday, Saturday and Sunday with her if I was good. The most important rule was that I was never to masturbate. If she ever caught me or even suspected me of masturbating, I would be tied down and severely whipped. I was to obey all orders without hesitation and was not to speak unless asked a question that required an answer. She would tell me what to wear, if anything, and I would be doing all the household chores.

Finally, after many muffled yes-ma’am’s she stood up, hauled me up by my hair and marched me down the hall toward her bedroom. As we turned into a room, I saw a black wooden bench with stirrups and straps, a collection of dildos and anal plugs on a shelf, and a paddle and a whip hanging on the wall, and leaning against the largest dildo on the shelf was the photo I had sent her.

I was shaking and whimpering like a pup as she outfitted me with a wide black slave collar, a cock-ring on my still erect and now dripping cock, a studded leather ring around my balls and black leather anklets with steel rings on my ankles. She stepped back when she finished and said, “You like being dressed as a slave boy, don’t you?” She grabbed me by the hair again, brought me in front of a mirrored wall and said, “Look, sweetie!” — making me look at myself in the large mirrors. “Now, didn’t I ask you a question?” she yelled. I couldn’t remember if she had, but I was already being hauled over to the wooden bench. “It’s time to start your slave training. Bend over.”

The top of the bench was a little higher than my cock, and with my hands still handcuffed behind my back, I had to just sort of fall over onto it, with my feet coming off the floor. The edge of the bench was pushing my cock toward the floor and pushing back on my balls. She clipped what looked like a seat belt over my back and tightened it. The steel rings on my anklets were clipped to chains on either side of the bench, which spread my legs open wide. My ass had never felt so exposed. She grabbed one of my buns very firmly and said, “There, now I’ve got your little butt! From now on, this cute little piece of ass is mine!”

She got a paddle and rubbed it around on my ass before giving me several hard swats with it. “That’s just to warm your little butt up and remind you you’re a slave. Are you going to be a good little slave boy?”

“Yes, Mistress!” I said, almost crying.

She took some lotion from the shelf, squirted a generous amount all over my ass and rubbed it into my cheeks and balls. “I’m going to give this hot little ass something to suck on,” she said. She took down a medium-size anal plug, rubbed lotion all over it and positioned the tip at my virgin hole. She started pushing it in, which caused me to yell. Then, as she pushed it deeper, I sort of squealed. It hurt a lot, but finally it popped into place. Mistress said, “That’s one tight little ass, hon. Ever been fucked?”

“No, Mistress,” I answered.

“We might have to do something about that.”

We were both silent for a few minutes, and then she slipped out of her swimsuit and straddled the bench in front of my face. I wanted so much to suck on her pussy. She gave me a few minutes to dream about it, then reached over me, grabbed the end of the anal plug and started working it in and out of my ass. I started sobbing and she shoved her pussy in my face and said, “Suck it, slave, suck it real good.”

I gladly obeyed and was able to make her come after about ten minutes. She then removed the anal plug only to replace it with a larger one. “If you think that’s big, you’re really going to love my fist,” she said.

She let me off the bench and had me do some housework. While I was doing my chores, I noticed that my clothes were not where I had hung them. I didn’t dare ask her where they were, but maybe it meant she was happy with me. When I finished my chores, we went out by the pool and sunbathed for a while. She had me put on a pair of her bikini bottoms . My poor cock was still trying to stand straight up, as if begging for relief.

Mistress was reading magazines with pictures of naked men in them. She had me lie beside her and told me to look at them with her. After a while she told me to rub some suntan oil on her. While I was doing that, she seemed to fall asleep. I reached inside my suit and started stroking my aching cock. I didn’t want to make myself come; it just felt good to stroke it. Suddenly, Mistress was shouting at me, saying, “You little slut! I told you about that!”

She took me back into the house by my hair, backed me into a corner by the front door and talked to me real close to my face. “Maybe I’ll hold off punishing you until next time, so you can just think about it all week. You know, I think you’ll make a good little slave if you just keep your hands off your cock, sweetie.”

I have spent several long weekends with Mistress since then, and I am now well trained. She owns me totally and does with me exactly as she pleases. The videos prove it

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