tagBDSMKris Has a Breakthrough

Kris Has a Breakthrough


Author's note: This is a further continuation of the story involving Mistress Xanna; first introduced in "Laine Goes to the Ball" and further developed in "After the Ball." I hope you enjoy this slight change of pace as Xanna spends some time with one of her male submissives.


Bridget was exhausted. The woman better known as Mistress Xanna in some circles had had quite a weekend. She had put on her boots and bustier to make a little money as a professional Domina at "The Halloween Leather and Lace Fetish Ball" the night before and it had gone better than she could have ever dreamed. She had been hired partly to add to the ambience of the Ball as a legitimate Dominant and to answer questions from a curious public.

That was how she had met her beautiful Laine; the sweetly nervous small town girl who had wondered how someone could be interested in BDSM. Through her help Laine had learned firsthand the wonders of submission before the ball was over. Bridget had spent much of the night and a good portion of that day training her new pet. The thrill as she had watched another learn the wondrous pleasure of servitude had left her drained of energy but filled her with confidence. She had rarely found a more willing and eager student than Laine.

She was seriously tempted to kick off her boots and watch The Simpson's and relax in preparation for work the next day, but she felt like her recent work with Laine had brought her new strength and insight. She loved the process of breaking in a new pet; finding all of their deepest desires and needs and fulfilling them in exchange for their total devotion.

Nothing on Earth made her more wet than the look of utter worship on the face of one of her submissives. She preferred not to use the term slave as it implied she had taken away their free will. In her mind she heard the sneer of a well-heeled, callous Domina who had once called her weak for refusing to treat submissives like mere property and remembered her own sharp response. Her pets served of their own volition and she was proud to say none of them had ever walked away; at least not yet.

Bridget sighed. She needed that strength and insight for a much more difficult task than Laine or the rest of her submissives combined. She almost felt as if a second wind had come to her, although by then it was more likely a third or fourth. She picked up her phone, brought up her contacts and pressed the call button.

"Mistress! Good...good evening. I wasn't expecting to hear from you," Kris stumbled awkwardly.

"It's quite all right Kris dear. I was just wondering if you were available this evening?"

"Ummm...yes ma'am. Of course. Whatever you wish," he replied still full of nerves. What could Mistress Xanna want? He hadn't seen her in nearly a month and the last time...Kris' eyes stung with tears at the humiliation of the memory. Last time things had gone so badly he had panicked and run out of her place without even remembering to put back on his underwear.

"Thank you my dear. I will see you soon."

"Thank you Mistress. I will be there in fifteen minutes." The call ended and Kris was in a cold sweat of terror. At the same time he was fighting an erection so hard it felt like a steel pole had grown out of his body.

This was what always happened when he thought about submitting; ever since he was a teenager and had first seen the picture in a magazine. He could still see it now; a man on his knees, his eyes glazed over with passion, kissing the boots of a leather-clad woman. It had been such a novel idea to him at the time. Could a man let the woman be the aggressor?

Kris had always been shy and preferred it when his girlfriend made all the decisions. He was constantly scared of making a mistake. The image had made him think in all new ways. To let a woman not just lead but command. Following commands made everything so much simpler than the risk of making the wrong move. Unfortunately it ended up leading to one of the worst wrong moves of his life.

The picture was seared into his memory, even after he had been forced to throw out the magazine it was in by his girlfriend when he was nineteen. The scene over it was a part of the terror that hit him every time he tried to live out his fantasies. He remembered his girlfriend freaking out; screaming that she didn't want any part of that "kinky shit." Throwing out his magazines hadn't been enough. She had broken up with him a couple months later, saying she couldn't handle his "deviant desires."

For a few years he had tried to forget the image and stop being a "freak." About a year before he had succumbed to the memory of the image and begun looking at pictures and reading stories on the internet. That led him to chat rooms, message boards and his current situation.

His ex-girlfriend's flip out had been bad enough, but nothing like what had happened about six weeks earlier. He didn't think he would ever be able to live down the shame. Kris had finally screwed up the courage to meet a Domme and an online acquaintance had directed him to the amazing Mistress Xanna.

After his first session with her went so well he felt inspired. He had liked a femdom page on Facebook and with their stupid privacy changes; everyone on his friends list had seen it on their feed. Every day since then he had logged on to more of his so- called friends razzing him as a "pansy" or "sissy." The comments gave him a hard on as they made him hate himself for his deepest cravings.

"Damn dude, don't you know if you're into that fucking shit you're supposed to have a bitch on the leash, not BE the bitch?" That condemnation wasn't the worst thing he had heard afterwards, but it was the one that rang in his head over and over again. Dozens of men, and even a few of his women friends, had made it clear he wasn't a "real man." A "real man" wouldn't want to bow down to a woman and kiss her feet. A "real man" wouldn't long to feel the caress of a whip on his naked skin. A "real man" wouldn't get hard at the thought of his Mistress ordering him around. Why was he like this?

Kris shunted the memory of his humiliation from his mind and picked up his keys. Mistress Xanna was only a short drive away and he hoped that maybe this time he would be able to serve her the way he longed to be able to serve. He thought of all the things he had always dreamed of doing.

Every time he headed to see his Mistress he was haunted with the same flights of fancy. Then the panic and the judgment of his peers would kick in and he would be back to square one. Since the post he had been unable to let go in his subsequent sessions with his Mistress. That was what had led him to run out of her house half-naked. He couldn't give up control so he had fled.

He sat down in the driver's seat of his car and turned the ignition. He felt the piercing he had gotten when he agreed to serve Xanna frustrating his arousal further. In the last couple of weeks he had thought a few times about removing the ring, the sign of his devotion, from the head of his penis assuming that he would never have a chance to make up for his previous errors. He figured Mistress Xanna was done with him after his last panic attack and that would be the end of it all.

He was happy he had not taken it out, but he still shuddered at its implications. He hated himself every day for his weakness and frailty. Both his need to submit and his fear of that need tore at him until he felt as though he would shatter under the stress.

Kris followed the expressway to the edge of town and turned off into the farmland bordering. His eyes barely took in the sight of horse pastures and sheep folds in the early night dimness. Terror clawed at his chest and twisted his stomach until he wondered if he would throw up or asphyxiate first. He fought back his gorge and took a deep breath. After a few more turns he came up to a stately old farmhouse set back from the road.

He pulled into the driveway and his pulse throbbed in his throat. He could see the light on in the front window and it quickened. The door was unlocked and he came into the low-ceilinged entryway. His collar, leash and restraints sat on an accent table just inside the door.

As always when he saw the trappings of submission it made him eager and willing. He tried to forget all of the times he had stood in this spot. Too many times he had prostrated himself to the Copper maned Domina anticipating the incredible pleasures he would soon experience and then failing to follow through to Her satisfaction or his own.

He tried to strike from his mind the resistance and the confining, choking fear that threatened to take over him as usual. He pushed it down and stripped off his jeans and sweatshirt. He took a deep breath and dropped his boxer briefs and threw them on top of his other clothes. He took the larger set of restraints and put them around his ankles. The smaller set encircled his wrists.

With another, deeper breath Kris picked up the stiff leather collar and placed it around his throat. He attached the leash to the ring on the front of it and dropped to his knees. He crawled to the center of the living room and kneeled to await his Mistress. He knew this room was set up largely to relax Xanna's pets and the calm blue hues of the walls and carpet managed to slip past his instinctual fears and brought him a measure of comfort.

He heard her approach from the back hall and his pulse beat like a hummingbird's. He was almost tempted to run before she appeared. Before he could make a fool of himself again and let her down. He hated the thought of embarrassing himself and letting his Mistress down. Again he despised his fickleness and weak nature.

Xanna looked down on Kris and saw him shaking like a leaf. The poor boy was so scared of who he was and what he wanted. She hoped that she could get through to him and have a breakthrough or she would have to release him from her service. She hated the thought. It would be her first real failure and she wasn't ready yet to give up. She bent over and stroked his damp brow plastered with honey blond curls.

He peeked out from under his unusually long eyelashes and saw the gleam of her boots rising up along the curve of her calves and framing the perfect bend of her knees. He buried his face in her ankle and ran his tongue over the smooth yet oddly textured fabric. He savored the flavor and sensation of it along his taste buds and poured worship on his Mistress' feet. "Real man" or not he was living the fantasy image and it felt better than anything ever.

He felt a tug on his leash and lifted his head up. Kris looked up and saw the benevolent approval in Xanna's eyes. The shy blond felt his heart warm and glow under his Mistress's regal attention. Xanna dropped a kiss on his forehead then signaled for him to get to his feet and follow her to the basement.

He was so scared he worried he was going to stop breathing and Xanna heard his struggles. She made a snap decision and stopped him halfway down the hall. "Kneel," she instructed him. He dropped down to his knees again in confusion, but knew better than to say anything.

Xanna walked down the hall, past the room she had spent the previous night in with Laine, and went into the next room. Kris was too nervous for the dungeon, she had decided. She remembered him running up the stairs and out the door the last time he was down there. Instead she would prepare one of her other playrooms.

The room was even starker than the black and white room next door. It had a fireplace, which Xanna lit upon entering. The flickering light illuminated the low red mattress on the floor with a set of restraints built in to it. It also cast over the shining St. Andrew's cross in the corner. The basement was much more fully equipped, but it had an air of cold steel and harsh discipline that she was concerned would bring about another bad reaction in her struggling submissive. The room suited her purposes for the night. She hoped that things would go well enough that next time he would be able to appreciate her well-constructed and stocked dungeon.

Xanna had everything she wanted all ready clipped to her belt. She let the confidence that had built up inside her for the last day overflow and she knew she was as ready as she would ever be to face down Kris' reluctance. She had a few theories as to their source; now she had to break them down.

She went back into the hall and picked up Kris' leash. He started to get to his feet and she stopped him, "No my dear. We aren't taking the stairs. Be a good pet and stay on all fours and follow me." Kris was again confused, but complied willingly. He had never been anywhere in the house other than the front room and the basement, but he loved the elation he experienced on his knees and Xanna knew it well. He crawled behind her into the Red Room.

She led him to the St. Andrew's cross and bade him to rise. He was surprised at both the beauty and simplicity of the room, but didn't dare to look around too much. She attached his restraints to the arms of the cross and he closed his eyes. He felt the palpable loss of control and the war between his id and super ego roared up again. A "real man" wouldn't want this; a "real man" wouldn't let a woman tie him down not just figuratively but literally!

He hadn't realized he had said it aloud, but he must have muttered under his breath. He heard Xanna as she whispered in his ear, "What is a 'real man,' Kris?" He opened his eyes, expecting to see her fury, and was shocked to see a smile. She had suspected it was something along those lines that had kept him from being able to submit fully. She ran her hand up his leg and grabbed his cock and balls and ran them through her fingers. He groaned as her ministrations quickly made him hard.

"Don't these make you a man?" she asked as she gave his balls a squeeze.

"Yes Mistress, but..." Kris trailed off. How could he explain what had happened without making her angry?

"Answer me!" Xanna demanded. She squeezed tighter and her manicured fingernails dug in to the sensitive flesh. Her tone brooked no more evasions.

"Men...men...aren't supposed to bow down to women. Not like this. Not unless they are a sissy or a pansy or..." Kris broke down and cried.

"They aren't 'real men?'" Xanna finished for him. Her hand no longer squeezed and instead fondled.

Kris nodded his head, as tears ran down his cheeks.

"Do you like the thought that you aren't a 'real man'?" Xanna asked.

The question caught him off guard. Of course he didn't like it! Did he? His mind reeled and he was suddenly unsure of everything.

When he didn't answer immediately Xanna gave him a moment to think; unlike with the previous question. After a pause she asked in a quiet, soothing tone, "You aren't sure, are you dear?"

Kris mumbled, "Men aren't supposed to want to give up control."

His sobs grew heavier. She put her arm around his middle and held him close. "For now, let's make that part of it irrelevant. As I said- these make you a man," she said as she fondled his scrotum again. "How real of a man isn't important. The question is; why aren't men supposed to be subordinate to women? It's such an outdated and patriarchal way of thinking. It's so unevolved and backwards for a modern man." She rubbed his shoulder affectionately with one hand and continued to stroke his genitals with her other.

"The natural order is for the submissive to bow to the Dominant," Xanna's said as her voice took on tones of sweetness and strength. "And you know which one you are, don't you my dear?"

Xanna's hands played over Kris' skin. Every nerve of his felt sensitive to her touch. "Before I met you for the first time, you told me some of your fantasies in our correspondence. I felt a connection to you. I knew you were special. I wanted so much to be the one to fulfill those fantasies and I knew I could do it. I didn't want you as a client; I wanted you for my own. We started to act on some of those fantasies during our first meeting and you seemed...eager. I don't know exactly what happened but I assume something caused you to feel shame for what you want. Shame is a funny thing. A submissive needs to either get past shame...or embrace it." She looked down at Kris' cock, which had stiffened at her words. "Knowing that other people know what you really are...it scares you how much it turns you on, doesn't it?

Kris was shocked; he had never thought it out so far, but he couldn't deny the truth in Xanna's words. He felt her nails running over his back as they tapped out a pattern rhythmically. Tears poured down his face. It was true. If he hadn't wanted to be found out he would have been more careful and he certainly could have avoided going on his account and reading the posts. Instead he had signed on several times a day to see the most recent responses. They had hurt, but each one had given him a tiny rush of adrenaline as he read them and the ache they left had merged with the ache of his need. He hadn't realized what was making him compulsively read every slight and comment over and over again; now he knew.

"You're right, Mistress. I...I...why? Why am I like this? Why do I want...need...," he trailed off again as another sob tore through his body.

"Shhhh...relax dear. Cry if you need to. Follow those emotions to their natural conclusion. You know that you aren't alone in having these feelings and even if you were...would that change them? "

Kris shook his head. "I've fought it for so long. I was so...happy after I was with you...and then I felt so much shame for it...and...I didn't want to face that shame. I'm so scared...of myself." He leaned into the cross as the emotional onslaught left him weak. The constant battle that had been raging inside him had burnt itself out when faced with the truth.

"Do you want to leave? Xanna asked in a hushed tone.

Out of his mental exhaustion came a clarity that had previously eluded him. He knew what he was and what he wanted. All his previous pain and confusion congealed into one thought in his mind and showed him the way. He lifted his head and turned and looked at Xanna, but cast his golden eyes below hers as was fitting for a submissive. "Never. I don't want to leave now or ever."

"You will surrender to me?" Xanna asked, still running her hands up and down his naked body.

"Willingly and completely Mistress. It is my greatest desire," Kris declared.

"Good boy. Stand still," Xanna said with a smile.

Xanna took a length of bondage rope and wrapped it around his erect penis and down around his balls then tied it through the ring of his piercing. Kris winced as it squeezed and almost felt the old panic try and rise, but the sensation was already carrying him to a place where feeling meant more than thought and his fear slid away under a tide of desire. It seemed to negate his thought that a "real man" wouldn't get hard obeying his Mistress.

Xanna's hands had titillated every nerve to super-sensitivity and Kris' body screamed out to him for what it wanted; the stinging kiss of leather. He quieted down his mind and controlled his body's reaction. He knew Mistress would give him what he needed in her own time. She knew best how to build his anticipation until it would break into a glorious drowning flood of pleasure. His cock strained against the ropes. His body was telling him, as a man "real" or not, that he was on the path to a level of satisfaction in body, mind and soul that he had never before found.

Xanna pulled her riding crop off her belt and ran it along the inside of Kris' thigh. His hamstring twitched and he felt the crop come down with a solid thud. A surge of endorphins swamped his brain and made him giddy. "You know better than to move," Xanna hissed in his ear and dropped a bite on the lobe.

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byTinyBeth© 5 comments/ 27533 views/ 13 favorites

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