Learning to Please Maitresse Ch. 02

Maitresse knows what you really want.

It is not for you to know. You cannot.

That is why you come to me, isn't it, my dear slut? To discover your true desire. To find it pure and without the distorting veil of human judgment.

What you want is to please me--but how?

Let us try yet again, then....

You stand there before me, naked and shivering. Vous-avez peur, n'est-ce pas? (You are afraid.)

And well you should be. What have you done to please Maitresse? Rien(Nothing.)

"Stroke yourself."

I watch your hand move in its familiar pattern, up and down, pulling on the head of your beautiful cock slightly with each movement.

I want you hard, slut. Very hard.

I have plans for you.

"Isabelle, mon sac (my bag)."

I pull out a black bra and panties. They are your size. You will wear them.

"Vous comprenez (You understand)?"

"Oui Maitresse."

(At least he has learned not to contradict me.)

"Do not stop stroking yourself."

I go into the closet and pull out a black, sleeveless dress with thin straps. It will fit perfectly.I have searched hard and long for it.

"Put on the bra and panties. I want to see your large hard cock protruding through them."

"You look surprised slut."

"Maitresse, if I may say..."

"If you may say? Who asked your opinion. Do as you are told."

You slip one leg, then the next through the sheer black fabric.

"Pull them up."

You do as I say.

You look slightly ridiculous but beautiful-- beautiful, because you do as I say. (That is how it should be, but so rarely is.)

"Now the bra."

You take the black bra and put your hands through the straps.

"Isabelle, fasten the back for our slut."

I see your eyes become small.

"Are you ashamed, slut?"

Why, not tits?

Ashamed to be dressed as a woman?

You should have nothing but respect for women. Thank me for allowing you to feel like one for this brief moment."

"Merci Maitresse."

"Isabelle, the stockings."

She pulls out two black sheer stockings and a garter belt, then fastens the belt to your hips, grazing your ass as she pulls it tight.

I can see you need some encouragement.

I walk toward you. "Are you sexy for Maitresse?"

"Oui Maitresse."

"Maitresse will have you tonight, you understand. She will have you hard. You have no say."

"Oui Maitresse."

"But first you must be pleasing."

"In any case you will get fucked."

"Oui Maitresse. As you say Maitresse."

"And don't tell me you haven't been dreaming about this very moment, slut, your ass waiting for the moment when it is worthy enough to be fucked by Maitresse. Isn't it true, you worthless slut?"

"Oui Maitresse."

"Put your arms up."

"Isabelle give me the dress."

I slide it over your long outreached arms. I feel you quiver. As the fabric falls down your sides, I rub my hands through it to touch your ass.

"Whose ass is this?"

"Yours Maitresse."

"That's right. And now we will see whether it is worth anything."

"Isabelle, get a chair."

I command you to sit and pull the stockings on, slowly. (Your legs are shaved, of course.)

You reach out one leg, point your toes (as you have seen women do in many a film) and carefully slide one foot into the sheer fabric.

"Do not rip them or I will get angry."

"Oui Maitresse."

I watch as you carefully slip each stocking on and pull it up.

I walk over to you.

"Maitresse will fasten the garters for you, dear slut."

I take my delicate white hand and slip it gently under the black fold of the stocking. I gently pull it up and fasten the garters to it. Then the same on the other leg.

"Isabelle, her shoes."

Isabelle fetches two perfect black leather shoes with spiked heels.

"It was not easy to find something in your size, you know."

"Oui Maitresse. Merci Maitresse."

"Slide your feet into them."

Now, standing before me, dressed in black, you are almost worthy of being fucked by Maitresse.

I hope you are trained, otherwise this will be difficult.

"Isabelle, mon sac."

I pull out the red lipstick.

"Are you a slut?"

"Oui Maitresse."

"And what do sluts wear?"

Silence.

"I asked you a question."

"Make-up Maitresse."

"Not just makeup you fool. Lipstick--red lipstick."

"Oui Maitresse."

I apply the lipstick, then some eyeliner and mascara. I look you over. There, so is good.

I take your hand. I feel you wobble walking in the shoes. I place your face forward across the back of a large black velvet chair.

"Bend over, deeply."

You comply.

You are full of anticipation. I press myself against your ass, slowly pulling the dress up until it is fully exposed to my view.

With my hand I run up and down your ass, inside your thighs, feeling you shake under my touch.

"You have been waiting for this, haven't you slut? Waiting for the moment when Maitresse has you bent over like the worthless slut you are, ass in the air, waiting to get fucked?"

"Oui Maitresse."

(As if I needed an answer.)

"Spread your legs. Do it!"

You widen your stance. I can see your balls hanging. I feel your cock is hard.

"What do you deserve, slut?"

"I...."

"You what? Can't you answer a simple question?"

I take the crop and slap you ten times across the ass.

I watch as the red welts rise up across your skin. I want you hot, red, and waiting.

You don't dare move as the crop strikes you, again and again.

(Otherwise I shall have to use my belt--as you well know.)

"Take your hand and play with your balls."

"Oui Maitresse."

I watch your hand fondle your balls.

"Isabelle, mon sac."

As you touch yourself I pull out the strap-on, fasten the dildo to it, and press myself up against your ass.

"Do you feel that, slut?"

"Oui Maitresse."

"That is the cock that is going to fuck your worthless ass."

"Oui Maitresse. Merci Maitresse.

"Turn around and get on your knees before me."

You comply.

"Suck it."

I watch your face, expressionless, at a loss somehow.

"What's wrong? Never sucked cock before?"

"Non, Maitresse.."

"Well there is a first time for everything."

"Oui Maitresse."

You move your lips close to my "cock."

"I said suck. Vous comprenez?"

Suddenly you put your full force into it, rubbing and sucking as if you had done nothing else your whole life.(I knew it.)

"Did I not say that Maitresse knows what you want?"

"Whose cock is this."

"Yours Maitresse."

"And you are to worship it. Do you understand?"

"Oui Maitresse."

"Lay down, face up."

I press my spiked heel into you skin. I press again and again, watching the marks rise up on your chest. Then I put the heel in your mouth. You suck it, too, greedily.

"Get up."

You comply.

"Now turn around. Maitresse will give you what you really deserve."

I stand back. I look at you: submissive, wanting, waiting.

I take my finger and slide it up your asshole. I feel it tighten.

"Relax, slut."

I stroke your back, your hair.

"Vous-etes belle (You are beautiful)."

I feel you start to loosen. I take my "cock" and slide it slowly up your waiting ass, a quarter inch at a time, lubing it as I go. I feel you. You want me inside. Inside, where no one else can reach you. Only I. Your Maitresse.

I press myself now with force against you. I feel you move with me. You move your hips back and forth, and we are in sync. But I hold you fast.

"It is I who fuck you, slut. Do not move."

I want you passive. I want you to feel what it is like to be used in this way. To be my thing. To belong to me. To have no say.

I fuck you hard, harder.

"Touch your cock."

Your hand goes down and rubs that beautiful cock of yours. As I fuck you, deeper and deeper, I feel you reaching deep inside yourself for something, a feeling you cannot quite express. I know it. It is to be here and nowhere else on earth, now, at the pleasure of another. Nothing else matters. And nothing does. Only this.

"Bon. That is good slut. You please Maitresse. Oui, you begin to please her now."