A Treat for Melissa Pt. 01

The sound of the front door opening makes my heart skip a beat. When Mistress left the house this morning she promised that our six year relationship is going to take a step in an exciting new direction tonight. She has never made such a promise before, so I am understandably excited.

I've known Mistress since High School, but it was only after my husband Greg was arrested for fraud that she and I became close. She became a true friend at a critical time in my life. I was penniless and homeless after my divorce from Greg, particularly as the divorce coincided with all of his assets being seized by the court. I was at the end of a very long line of victims whom Greg had cheated of their savings. Mistress gave me a job and a roof over my head when everyone else shunned me. Her generosity came at a price, but one which she was open about, and one which I've been more than happy to pay.

Should I have refused Mistress' conditions six years ago? Certainly my life would have been very different had I backed away when I had the chance. But I doubt my life would have been better if I had rejected her demands. I'm happy and content with my current lifestyle, which is something I couldn't say before I moved in with Mistress. My life with Greg before he was arrested was comfortable and boring. He was the man of the house and I was too innocent to challenge his one-sided control of our marriage. Despite Greg's and my mutual attraction, my sex life was vanilla and run to a timetable. Not so now with Mistress.

The handful of people whom I meet socially these days all look down on me. That's to be expected. Those who understand my relationship with Mistress accept my role as her submissive slave and treat me as such. Those who don't understand our relationship sneer at my apparent foolishness, but respect my desire to be left to my fate. A few may secretly blame me for Greg's crimes, and consider my enslavement to Mistress as a well deserved punishment.

Ever since I surrendered my freedom to Mistress I've been at the mercy of her whims and wild imagination. It isn't easy placing yourself in a position where you are helpless. Through her actions and words Mistress regularly reminds me that I am completely under her control. It's not just the frequent use of locks and chains which physically bind me to her dominion, but the subtle (and not so subtle) games she plays with my mind. Powerful and exciting games which make me all the more willing to accept her absolute control of my life. Each day I'm reminded that my compliance earns me the most sensational orgasms I can imagine. My pussy always becomes wet at the prospect of Mistress' arrival. I can feel my juices flowing now. I've become a slave to sex. I crave Mistress's harsh treatment so that my sexual reward will be all the more pleasurable. Bondage is an aphrodisiac to me, and Mistress is only too happy to provide that in abundance.

Of course my compliance wasn't always so forthcoming. Our first year living together was difficult, and more than once I berated myself for my weakness. Not for my initial surrender to Mistress' control, but my weakness in not being more resilient to her efforts to expand our relationship into more rewarding territory. These days I look forward to Mistress pushing my boundaries into uncharted realms. Is that was she plans for tonight? I hope so.

You might be forgiven for thinking of me as some worthless doormat of a woman. I'm certain that several of those who know me socially hold that view. But I enjoy working as Mistress' indentured housekeeper and maid. Mistress isn't uncaring and she ensures that I regularly have outside company. I don't mind that she vets my choice of friends, and I understand her concerns. The last thing either of us wants is some well meaning friend to try and rescue me from Mistress' dominion. I don't want rescuing and my current friends accept my situation even if they don't fully approve. In many respects my submission has set me free to enjoy things I could never experience without Mistress' control over my life.

At the sound of Mistress' pending arrival I quickly prepare for our established greeting routine. I go into the study and straighten the skimpy vinyl maid's outfit which Mistress has me wear during the day. I lock the chain dangling from the room's ceiling to my collar with the padlock Mistress has left for that purpose. The neck chain provides me with plenty of freedom of movement, but it confines me to this room. I hear voices in the hallway. The close-fitting hood over my head makes it difficult to distinguish their words, but one voice definitely belongs to Mistress while the other is male. Mistress has occasionally brought home one of her male acquaintances from the bondage club she frequents, and once in a while she has me participate in the sex games which invariably follow. Those occasions are fun but I will be disappointed if that is all Mistress meant by her promise this morning.

I go down in my knees, spread my legs wide and place my upturned hands between my thighs. This is the submissive greeting position Mistress requires of me when I'm not in strict bondage. The short chain linking my wrist cuffs in front of me doesn't count as serious bondage. Nor does the gag and the chastity belt she had me wear today. Like the hood, the short chain is merely there to make it harder for me to do my daily chores. It's one of the many tricks which Mistress uses to make my daily life varied and interesting.

The door to the study opens. The narrow eye slits in my hood only allow me a restricted view of the two people entering. Nevertheless I recognise the man at once. It's my ex-husband Greg. I belatedly remember that he will have recently completed his prison sentence and he must now be free on probation. I feel a brief moment of guilt for not remembering that fact earlier. I can tell from his reaction that Mistress has forewarned him of my presence. Even so, I can see that he is nervous and shocked at the sight of me dressed as I am.

"Aren't you going to say hello to Melissa, Greg?" Mistress prompts.

"Err. Um. Yes. Sorry. Hello, Melissa," says Greg, clearly still struggling to comprehend the sight of his ex-wife in bondage and kneeling before the pair of them.

"I'm afraid Melissa is unable to speak because of her gag," adds Mistress when all I can do is mumble incoherently in reply.

I study Greg carefully as he comes to terms with the situation. Mistress clearly hasn't properly prepared him for this event. Knowing Mistress, that will have been a deliberate ploy on her part. She's testing Greg. He'll either leave at once, or he'll embrace the situation he has entered. Perhaps Mistress should have prepared Greg better. Or is she so confident in her appraisal of Greg? Nothing I've said about Greg would give her much guidance. At times Mistress can be selfish and arrogant, but she's also very perceptive.

My part in this drama is over for now. Mistress hasn't given me permission to stand and my gag makes me powerless to verbally influence Greg's next action. He's on his own with that decision. Rightly or wrongly, I can't stop my strong attraction towards Greg from re-igniting. He stands frozen in place. I don't understand what game Mistress is playing but I know from experience that if Greg wants to return to anything like a normal life, then he must run for the door at once. Mistress rarely lets her victims escape.

If flight was ever Greg's intention, then he misses his chance. Mistress locks the door to the study, trapping Greg inside. In my current bound state, the locked door serves no purpose in restraining me. To Greg, however, it signals his last moment of freedom. Whether he likes it or not, he is now part of Mistress' and my dark world.

"Do you wish to leave, Greg?" asks Mistress, forcing Greg to voice his silent decision to stay.

"Why have you locked the door?" asks Greg, trying to deflect her question.

"Because I can, and I choose to do so," replies Mistress. "I told you my terms. Now answer my question."

"I will stay. You invited me here to be reunited with Melissa," replies Greg weakly as though trying to justify his failure to take any stronger action. "My feelings towards Melissa haven't changed despite all that has happened. I accept your terms although they aren't what I thought you were meaning when we met yesterday."

I've no idea how Mistress has lured Greg here but his words are nothing less than a total surrender to her.

"Good. Now remove your clothes and put on the items in this bag."

It's the identical demand which Mistress made of me six years ago. Removing my normal clothes and putting on what symbolically serves as a slave costume was my first act of submission. Greg makes no protest and he offers no resistance. Mistress has obviously understood his personality perfectly. Better than I did during three years of marriage. But I still don't understand why she is doing this. Greg hinted that he wants to be reunited with me, but why would Mistress support such a reunion?

While Greg is dressing in his new costume, Mistress removes my hood and gag and unlocks my chains. For the first time today I'm completely free of restraints except for my chastity belt with its two thick latex cocks rammed up my two holes. It's a powerful reminder of my situation. Mistress teases the cock in my moist cunt which brings me to the brink of an orgasm in no time. But I'm experienced at playing this game and I hold myself from tipping over the edge into blissful heaven. I must wait for permission to come, and I sense that Mistress's permission isn't going to be given on this occasion. The frustration only increases my burning desire, which is precisely her intent.

Greg finishes dressing in a black leather harness typical of those worn by slaves in the bondage scene in which Mistress and I circulate. Mistress will probably add adornments later to reinforce his slave status. Despite his obvious embarrassment and discomfort, Greg offers no protest. He seems too bemused by Mistress' sudden demands and he's torn between horror and delight at what is being asked of him. At Mistress's signal he meekly hands over his clothes and she promptly leaves the room, carefully locking the door behind her. What am I supposed to do now? Offering sympathy and comfort to Greg seems pointless. Greg had the chance to escape and he chose not to leave.

Gradually Greg seems to regain his senses and belatedly realises the situation he is in. Is he excited or horrified? It's very difficult to tell from his composure. His slumped posture is one of resignation and I hope he isn't going to turn out to be a snivelling wimp. Despite the erotic scene before his eyes, Greg's tiny leather briefs show no sign of restraining an erection. In some respects I feel disappointed but I'm too much in Mistress' thrall to expect my desires to matter. That was a lesson I learned quickly when I first submitted to Mistress. Pain and humiliation must be endured. Tears and complaints only earn more pain and humiliation. These days I rarely feel humiliated, and I regard the pain from her whip as the other side of the coin to pleasure. An observer may mistake Mistress' harsh treatment of me as cruelty, but that's not how I see it. I'm proud that Mistress has taught me well, and I crave for her harshest attentions. Will Greg feel the same in time, or is he destined to be one of those who stubbornly resist the mind blowing pleasures I regularly enjoy?

"Now you shall fuck me," says Mistress to Greg when she returns.

"What?!?" exclaims Greg as Mistress unzips the vertical gusset in front of his briefs.

Greg's resistance ends quickly. Six years in prison has probably made him eager for sex despite his weak performance a few moments ago. Mistress kisses Greg while her right hand toys with his cock. An observer might think she is trying to make me jealous but I'm too much in her thrall to feel jealous of Mistress. Although I cannot see what she is doing, I suspect she is trying to improve Greg's erection. Mistress has high expectations in that department.

"Your cock is too limp, slave. Melissa, come and prepare this slave's cock for my pleasure."

Mistress steps aside and I kneel down in front of Greg. I take the partly erect beast into my mouth and begin my ministrations. It's the first time I've ever done this with Greg although it's a task I've occasionally performed with Mistress' male acquaintances. I secretly challenge myself to improve the speed at which I can encourage a man's cock to swell to Mistress' required size. I can't see Greg's facial expression but his moans and his expanding rod warn me when he is almost ready to shoot his load.

Mistress must also sense when Greg is ready. She roughly pushes me aside and guides his long slender cock inside her cunt. Greg was a mediocre sexual partner when we were married and he always came long before I was ready. After a few quick thrusts he spills his seed into Mistress' innards. Mistress doesn't say anything but I can see the disappointment in her eyes. Normally Mistress expects a fucking to last several minutes. The sudden jarring of the latex cocks inside me as Mistress pushed me aside nearly tips me over the edge into an orgasm. Mistress is too preoccupied to notice my own state of arousal, but I'm trained to do a much better job than Greg at maintaining control of my primal urges. I hover on the brink of an explosive orgasm, but with great effort I manage to retreat from the edge.

"Clean up your mistress, Melissa," says Mistress placing her dripping cunt in front of my face for me to lick clean. "Then take this slave to your quarters. By morning I expect you to have trained him to control his cock better than it has performed so far."

So Mistress is throwing Greg and I back together. But not as husband and wife. We are to be a slave couple subject to her strict control and perverted demands. Mistress removes the latex cocks from my cunt and arse but she keeps my chastity belt fastened, thereby preventing Greg from using either hole. This is a game I look forward to playing.

"Why have you come here?" I ask Greg once he and I are alone in the small room where I sleep.

"You wrote to me while I was in prison asking me to join you once I was released," replies Greg. "You were quite insistent. Don't you remember?"

I never wrote to Greg while he was in prison. Those letters either came from Mistress or Greg is lying once again. Something he's very at good at doing. I could challenge Greg's assertion, but in reality it doesn't matter. Greg is here with me and Mistress isn't likely to let either of us free in the foreseeable future. In my case, that suits me fine. Greg must make up his own mind about that.

"Well you are here and we must both make the best of the situation," I reply, evading both Greg's question and my own internal conflict.

How do I really feel about Greg being here? Our enslavement probably helps me manage that conflict. I'm sexually attracted to Greg, but I could never trust him again after what happened while we were married.

"And how do we make the best of our situation?" asks Greg.

"Firstly I must train you to satisfy the needs of our Mistress," I reply.

"How?"

"You heard her orders. Your cock needs to be taught to perform on demand. Remove you briefs and make your cock go hard."

Greg is eager enough to do as I order. He rubs his cock until he starts getting close to an orgasm. I'm not unaffected by the sight of his swelling beast. With Mistress out of sight I could easily push my finger through the narrow pee hole in my chastity belt and play with my clit. But I'm mentally as well as physically bound to Mistress' dominion, and she hasn't given me permission to pleasure myself; so I don't.

"Stop before you come," I say. "The object of this exercise is for you to bring yourself to the threshold of an orgasm, but deny yourself release until you are given permission."

Greg doesn't seem impressed by the game and he only makes a half-hearted effort to restrain his orgasm. He succeeds a couple of times, but after six or seven minutes he grows tired of making the effort and he shoots his load over the floor.

"Lick your disgusting mess up."

"Why?"

"Because we've nothing in this room to clean up your failure and neither of us will want Mistress to discover the floor in this state."

Greg looks as though he might argue, or worse still, suggest that I clean the floor. There were times when Greg used to treat me like a servant when we were married and he may well expect me to comply with such a request. But he will be wrong. These days I will obey an order from my Mistress without question, but nobody else holds that level of control over me. It might sound strange, but my enslavement has made me a stronger person. Greg must sense that change in me. Although he hesitates at first he kneels down and proceeds to lick up his cum.

Once he's completed his task, I have him repeat the whole cock control exercise again. Greg's compliance with my command sends a thrill through my body. Now that he knows the penalty for failure, he makes a much better effort at controlling himself. It's as though our roles when we were married have been reversed. This really is a wonderful treat Mistress has given me.