Becoming CD Mistress Raven's Slut Ch. 03

When finally it did, I rushed home to prepare myself. I went through my usual routine of trimming my pubic hair with clippers and giving myself an enema. I put the panties back on under a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and headed for Mistress Raven's lair. I arrived promptly at 9:00. I remembered her earlier instruction to me, so I dropped to my knees before knocking on her door. I waited there for several minutes until at last the door slowly opened and there stood my mistress.

Mistress Raven looked incredible. She was wearing red patent leather thigh high boots that laced up the front. She had on matching red latex panties. Judging by the size of the erection clearly outlined in her panties, she had been getting ready to see me. The panties were so tight that I could see the outline of the head of her cock and I could see her balls bulging beneath it. My mouth immediately began to water.

As my gaze continued up her body, I saw she was wearing a tight black leather vest with a black lace bra under. She must have had falsies in her bra because there was the distinct impression of cleavage. She had a very thin leather choker around her neck with a ruby red jewel in the middle. And as before, she wore severe, dark make-up, but with bright red lipstick. And her hair was long, straight and black, with a one blue streak on the right side that fell gently down her shoulder and onto her breast.

I was in awe. She was gorgeous. She was worthy of worship. She held out her right hand and I saw that her long nails were painted the same bright red as her lips. I took her hand in mine and brought it to my lips, gently kissed it, and then held it to my forehead as I bowed my head.

"Good boy," she said rewarding me immediately. "Did you comply with my command?"

"Yes, Mistress," I responded.

"Prove it," she answered. I looked up at her a little confused. "I said prove it," she repeated.

So remaining in my kneeling position, I unbuckled my belt, undid my pants and pulled them down a bit so that she could see I was wearing the red thong.

"Go on," she said. "I want to see it all."

I knew that I could be seen by anyone passing by. But my mistress had ordered, so I obeyed. I slipped off my shoes, stood and removed my pants. I stood at her door naked from the waist down, save the bright red thong panties.

"Very good," she said. "Now enter before my neighbors see what kind of deviants I allow into my house."

What happened that night is worthy of a chapter unto itself. Mistress Raven debased and defiled me in ways that I never could have imagined. I submitted to her every request, regardless of how vile or degrading it would have been to my former self. I was hers and she knew it and she abused me because of it. Perhaps someday, I will write the story of that night, but there are other parts of this story that must be told. And in truth, I later learned that that first night in Mistress Raven's dungeon was mild compared to what the future held for me in that room.

After that night, once Mistress Raven had confirmed just how submissive I was, she began to take ever greater control of my life over the ensuing weeks. First, she forbid me from wearing men's underwear and I was allowed to wear only women's panties. She even took me shopping one day for women's underwear and forced me to ask the sales attendant what size and styles would be best for me. She ordered me to text her every morning a selfie so that she could see what panties I had chosen for the day. I had to resort to getting dressed in a bathroom stall at my gym to avoid getting strange looks from the other men in the locker room.

But that was only the beginning. Not long thereafter she implemented "Thigh High Thursdays" ordering me to wear thigh-high stockings under my business attire every Thursday. She found that so amusing that she soon ordered "Panty Hose Tuesdays" in which I had to wear shear panty hose on Tuesdays. This proved especially problematic because it was now impossible to take a piss at the urinal at work because I had to drop my pants to pull the pantyhose down. She then expanded to "Fishnets Fridays," so that I was not only wearing panties every day, I was also wearing women's hosiery to work three days every week. Of course, I would wear my business socks over them to hide my shame.

Apparently not wanting to allow even a day of the week to pass without my humiliation, she raised the bar on Mondays and Wednesdays. She created "Masturbation Monday" in which I had to video myself masturbating to completion in a stall in the men's restroom at my office. She ordered me to cum into my hand and eat my ejaculate and then send her the video. The task of quietly jacking-off, cumming without getting cum on my clothes, catching my spunk in my hand and eating it, while filming the whole thing in a public restroom is not easy. But eventually I mastered it, because my Mistress demanded it.

But Wednesdays were the worst. She would text me Wednesday morning with a one-word text - a color. The color coincided with one of four different butt plugs that I had purchased on one of our shopping trips. Purple was the smallest, then blue, then yellow, then red. The red one was ridiculously large. It was shaped like a cone and it was at least five inches long, not counting the "handle" that stayed outside my ass and held the butt plug in place, and four inches in diameter. Keeping that giant plug in my ass all day was literally torture. And Mistress would text me during the day and I would have to reply with a picture of it in my ass within 10 minutes. Although she showed mercy and very rarely ordered a "Code Red," whenever she did, I knew my day would be terrible.

All the while, I was continuing to serve her in her dungeon. Once every week to ten days, she would order me to her house and my training would continue. She was molding me into the perfect slave for her and it wasn't entirely private. As part of Mistress Raven's decision to make this her full-time occupation, she decided she wanted to have a website to advertise her services. As part of that website, she wanted photos and videos of the various services she offered and I was filmed for much of that content. She understood that I would probably lose my job if any of this became public, so she blocked or pixelated my face. But there were public photos and videos of her fucking my ass, coming on my face wearing a gimp mask, flogging my ass while I was restrained to the St. Andrew's Cross, sodomizing me with a feather duster with me dressed as a French maid, and more. She was very much using me for her commercial efforts. I knew this and felt honored to serve my mistress in this manner.

It was nearly four months from that fateful trip to Mexico, on the second Thursday in September, that I received a call at work from Mistress Raven that would begin my descent into a level of submission from which I did not think I would ever recover. If I had known that day what I know now, I wonder if I would have answered it. Even reflecting back now, I don't know.

I knew the call was important because she never called me at work, she only texted. So I stepped out of my meeting and took the call in the hallway.

"Pinche maricons!!" Mistress Raven screamed into the phone when I answered (loosely translated "fucking faggots" in Spanish). "I have had three motherfuckers not show up today! No call, no nothing! Just not show up! I motherfucking hate all men!" her rant continued.

"I'm sorry Mistress," I whispered into my phone knowing that my co-workers were everywhere. "It's probably just that they ..."

"Shut the fuck up! Don't make excuses for those motherfuckers! I deserve respect! I am a fucking goddess!! I should be worshipped, not disrespected! And you? You want to make excuses for them!! You're just like them!" she was shouting so loud into the phone I had to hold it away from my ear.

"No, Mistress. I'm not. You are my goddess, I ..." I said trying to reason with her before she again cut me off mid-sentence.

"Motherfucker! You are such a disappointment to me. I think you want to serve me, but all you do is disappoint. You are no better than these pinche maricons that fucked up today!!" she lectured.

I know she is Latina and given to harsh, irrational rants. I had already endured several.

But this was a new low. I actually felt wounded by her comment and tried to fight back. "That's not fair, Mistress. I do worship ..." I tried to argue before she again cut me off.

"Shut the fuck up! I need actions not words. If you worship me, get your ass over here right now and we will fucking find out! If not, forget it!" she screamed and the call ended.

My calendar for that day was busy as fuck. I had a meeting with my boss later that afternoon and back-to-back conference calls scheduled until 8:00 that night with a call to my company's Singapore office. I went to my assistant and told her to cancel and reschedule everything. I told her I had a family emergency I needed to tend to and would hopefully be back in the office in the morning. With that, I walked out on all of my obligations and rushed to see Mistress Raven.

I showed up at her door about an hour later (fucking L.A. traffic). I knelt and knocked. No answer. After several minutes I knocked again. Still no answer. So I pulled out my phone and started to text Mistress Raven when suddenly the door swung open. She looked fiery and gorgeous and immediately I knew why she was so pissed off.

Over the time that I had been seeing Mistress Raven, I had learned that the effort she put into her look varied widely. Don't get me wrong; she always looked very feminine and amazing. I can guaranty that there was never anyone who showed up at her door that was disappointed with the way she looked. But as someone who saw her regularly over a period of time, I knew that her effort level fluctuated. She did not always put on her fake nails and fake eyelashes. She did not always wear her falsies to create a bustline. She did not always go all out in fetish attire, sometimes opting for a simpler short skirt and tight blouse or bra type outfit. Again, this is not a criticism, but actually a testament to how feminine Mistress Raven was and that she did not need to work hard to capture "her look" but when she did go all out, she was devastatingly gorgeous.

And so today, I immediately knew that she had put a lot of time into preparing for this client that no-showed. She was wearing new boots that I had never seen before. They were four-inch platform boots that gave her a commanding presence. They were latex that absolutely clung to every inch of her legs all the way up to her mid-thigh. The skin-tight latex was so tight that I could see the exquisite muscle tone of her calves and the tight musculature of her thighs.

Above that she wore a black leather bodice that absolutely rocked my world. It started with a thin leather strap that encircled Mistress Raven's neck, which was the only upper support. It had no shoulders or straps. From the neck it came down and covered her chest and led to her crotch. But the holes for the legs were cut impossibly high so that much of her firm, taught abdomen was visible on each side and the piece of garment coming down to the crotch was just a thin strip. That strap went up her ass like a thong and then flared out to the sides perfectly framing her ass. Also, despite the thin piece of cloth covering her crotch, there was no sign of her massive cock, so I knew it must be tucked deep into her crack to pull off that look.

But it wasn't just her clothes that clued me in; it was her make-up and hair. She had clearly taken a long time to perfect her makeup and get just the right look. It was not her standard look with the severe dark colors. Instead, her make-up was the perfect combination of cute, beautiful, sexy and "don't fuck with me." Her hair was shorter than I had seen before with some curls to it. If I had to cast someone to play her at that moment, it would be Marissa Tomei from My Cousin Vinnie. Her face had that same, cute, sexy, hot, sassy, dominant look and feel.

So, having taken in her look and the situation, I immediately assessed that she had thought she had a high-roller coming to see her, she had gone all-out preparing herself to meet him, and she had been stood up without so much as a courtesy call. That greatly pissed her off. And she needed to vent that anger and stress on someone. And here I was, a slave kneeling before her, who was about to willingly accept that beating.

She motioned for me to crawl inside and then slammed the door behind me. "You said I am your goddess. Do you mean that? Will you worship me?" Raven inquired in a harsh and demanding tone.

"Yes, Mistress Raven. Whatever you ask," I dutifully replied.

"Do you mean that, bitch? Think before you answer. Because if you say yes, you are my bitch, you worship me, then I intend to test you like you have no idea. So ... are you my bitch? Do you worship me?" Raven ranted.

"Yes, Mistress Raven, I am your bitch," I replied.

"And? And? And do you fucking worship your goddess?" she demanded.

I crawled to her and kissed her latex boot. I looked up as submissively as I could, "How do you want me to worship you, my Goddess?" I asked. I expected that my supplication would engender a kind and appreciative response. I was wrong.

"By stripping naked. And kneeling in front of me but facing away. Now!" Mistress Raven barked.

I promptly did exactly as she ordered, but I left the women's panties and thigh highs I was wearing on (it was a Thursday after all).

"I said naked bitch! I want access to that tiny cock of yours. Leave the thigh-highs for now," she commanded. I pulled the panties off and resumed to my prone position on the floor in front of her.

"Spread your legs more, bitch," she ordered and I complied.

She stood behind me and placed the top of her right boot between my legs and started grinding my dick and balls.

"If you are my slave, like you say, then these belong to me, no?" she asked pointedly.

"Yes mistress, my dick and balls are yours to use as you see fit," I submissively responded.

"Don't say that if you don't mean it. Do you mean that? These balls are mine?" she inquired again.

"Yes mistress. Those balls are yours," I replied.

And almost before I finished that sentence she drew her foot back and violently kicked me in the ball sack. I cried out, collapsed to the floor, and tried my best not to vomit it hurt so bad.

"Did I tell my bitch to roll up into a fucking fetal position?" she asked sarcastically.

"No mistress," I responded. "So where do you want me?"

"Right where you were. Being punished for transgressions real and imagined," she laughed. I crawled back to my prior position and she almost immediately brought her foot back and delivered another striking blow to my scrotum. I again felt like I might vomit, but I was able to hold my position this time. "Better," she said. "Take three deep breaths."

I took three deep breaths. Just as I exhaled on the third she again kicked me savagely in the nuts from behind. I couldn't help it and let out a loud groan in pain and again collapsed to the floor.

"Are these balls still mine to do with as I want? Or do you want to take control of them back now that you see how I intend to treat them?" she asked sarcastically.

"They are still yours mistress," I humbly mumbled even though I could barely breathe because the pain in my balls and knot in my stomach ached so badly.

"Then crawl into the dungeon. I want to play with those balls some more."

I crawled into the dungeon thankful for the respite on my scrotum.

"Get on the cross bitch. This is not going to go well for you. If you want to quit now, there is no shame. But if you get on that cross, I am going to test you like no one has ever tested you before. Understand, slave. Am I your goddess or not?" Mistress Raven challenged me.

"You are my goddess, Mistress Raven," I responded as I stood and leaned face first into the cross.

Mistress Raven laughed, "No bitch. Turn around and present your pathetic dick and balls to me." I turned on the cross and spread my legs and arms to match the arms on the cross. Mistress Raven slowly approached me with a fire burning in her eyes. She made a show of closing each of the manacles around my wrists and then ankles snapping each into place. She then took the straps and further secured my arms and legs to each of the cross's arms.

In that position, my cock and balls were completely exposed and vulnerable to whatever it was that Mistress Raven had in mind. She selected something from the implements wall and then approached me with a fairly harmless looking, very small, six-inch cat o'nine tails. But as she got closer I could see that the tails were actually very fine wires. She swung the whip starting at her knees, up between my legs and striking me squarely on my cock and balls.

Never in my life have I experienced such excruciating pain. I cried out and immediately started begging for Mistress Raven not to strike me again. "Please Mistress, please, please no more," I cried with tears streaming down my face. I was panting for breath and starting to sweat profusely.

"You said they were my balls, I will treat them as I wish and you will shut the fuck up," she sternly spoke. She stared me straight in my eyes and waited for me to regain my composure. Then, without warning, she swung the whip again striking me in the same manner.

"Ahhhhhh," I cried so loud I probably could have been heard in the next county. The pain in my balls and the head of my cock was indescribable. Yet restrained as I was I was helpless to do anything about it. I knew that begging would be useless, but I couldn't stop myself. I whimpered in whisper, "Please Mistress, please, I'm begging no more, please ..."

"Shhhhhh, my dear slave. Shhhhhh, it will be ok. Remember, your suffering pleases your mistress. You want to please your mistress don't you?" she asked in a kind soft voice.

"Yes mistress, I do," I replied back, happy to hear the kind, softer tone in her voice.

"THEN SUFFER BITCH!" she yelled as she again swung the whip striking my cock and balls even harder than before. I thought I might pass out from the pain. I again cried out, tears and snot now streaming down my face. I dropped my head to my chest and just hung there mumbling "Please no more, please no more ..."

"Good boy," Mistress Raven said. "You took that well. But I'm worried we may have permanently injured you. Let's take care of that package of yours." She took a container of balm off of a shelf and began gently rubbing the balm on my cock and balls. It was soothing and soft and Mistress's hands felt wonderful as she massaged my package. After a few minutes the pain was gone and Mistress's touch went from soothing to arousing as she continued to apply the balm to my cock and balls. It slowly turned into a nice slow, steady hand job.

"You like that baby," Mistress asked.

"Yes Mistress, I do. Thank you," I responded.

"Fuck my hand," she said as she stopped stroking but held her fist around my cock. So I started thrusting my hips up and back moving my cock in and out of Mistress's fist.

"Good. Faster. Fuck it hard," she ordered. I quickened my pace and the length of my strokes. My pumping started to become erratic as I was on the verge of cumming when Mistress suddenly removed her hand denying me my release.

"Don't worry, baby. In due time. I just wanted to make sure that your equipment all worked and that I hadn't damaged anything," she said with a wicked giggle. "But since you are all aroused and those balls are ready to empty their load, lets give them a special treat."

She got a rubber cock ring from a nearby shelf and put it on my dick and balls. It was the kind that separated each testicle from the other and from the dick. She pushed it into place over each of my balls and made sure it was secure around my dick.