tagBDSMMick Britton: Third Lesson Continued

Mick Britton: Third Lesson Continued


Miss Smith continues her home studies. She rarely is conscious of being anything other than missy. There is much to learn.



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At first missy could not figure out where she was. She woke to the sense that she was falling and her whole body jerked against the belts holding her, instinctively trying to catch herself. Only then did she remember her choice to stay strapped to the wall.

It seemed like each time Mick touched her it lit even greater fires of maddening passion in her and when he had inflamed her and then left her there in an agony of frustrated lust he had said to her to choose. She could choose orgasm and to remain strapped to this board hardly able to move or to suffer her need unfulfilled. She had not hesitated a second, not only did she crave the blinding ecstasy more than air itself, she craved the straps. She feared freedom more than she feared death.

The room was empty. She did not know where Mick had gone, but she knew somehow in her heart he would be back. There was a bond that stretched between them. He owned her and yet she knew that she held his heart in her hand.

She could barely turn her head but she cast her eyes toward the stairs as she heard a loud series of bangs and thumps coming down them. Her heart jumped and a tiny smile flickered across her lips as she saw him wrestling the large recliner down from her bedroom, dragging it down the stairs one step at a time.

She did not speak; she knew she did not have permission. She waited, her eyes drinking him in. He was whip lean, all bones and wire, with high cheekbones and slanting smoke colored eyes. His skin was dark and his too long black hair was thick and straight. He looked wild, like an Indian warrior, or a Mongol Prince. Miss Smith had no knowledge of his background. He had never spoken of a family. She had never even seen him socialize with the other students at the high school. She did know that none of the bullies or jocks met his eye, and they all seemed to step wide of him, as instinctively aware of the anger and violence hidden under the surface as she had been.

He had always arrived early to her class and always had been one of the last to leave but had rarely spoken to her. He just followed her with his eyes. And then he would gather his books and papers, nod a curt good bye and she knew he would be there again the next day. He was not a good student, turning in only average work, but he never missed an assignment and seemed content with the C's and D's he earned.

When he had dropped out the previous year, she had missed him, wondering where he had gone. She had been pleased when she saw his name back on the registrations lists. She had told herself it was a teacher's pleasure at seeing a student determined to graduate, to succeed, and she had believed that was true. There was no way the Miss Smith could have ever thought any other way about a student, even a nineteen year old returning senior. But Micky Britton had seen something in her that she had not even known existed.

He had seen missy, or what was to become missy. He had looked into her heart and seen the thing inside her that was desperate to escape the pointless routine of her meaningless drab existence. He had set that thing free and named her missy.

His eyes met hers as she watched him drag the large leather recliner across the room and situate it so he could have a good view of her and the rest of the room. "You got cable?"

"I have a satellite dish but it is only connected to the television in my room." She paused and then added, "Mick Sir."

"I can string some cable down here I guess." He looked around the room. "We will be spending most of our time down here, missy."

A kind of nagging worry kept eating at her, a panicked voice way in the distance. How long was he planning on staying here? What if the school found out? She could lose her job. The neighbors would notice his car. They were old friends of her mother and not particularly discreet. Gossiping was all many of them had left in their lonely lives. She was becoming intensely aware that Miss Smith was starting to take over her thinking, that missy was getting pushed into the back of her awareness.

A small wave of panic swept over her and she tested the strength of the straps holding her to the wall. She could not keep her silence anymore. "How long are you going to be here?" Her voice was tense with anxiety and doubt.

Mick looked at her, his head tipped to one side. Miss Smith looked back, tried to meet his eyes but faltered and looked away. But her fears still raged inside her. "What if someone finds out? If someone finds out, I could get fired. You can't live here."

"No one will find out."

"But your car, someone will see your car. My neighbors are nosy they will see and they will talk."

Mick got up and walked to her, he put his hand over her mouth. "Missy shut up."

Her eyes were wide and filled with fear as his hand pressed her lips to her teeth, trapping her words in her mouth. A soft sob of terror rose up her throat and swelled her cheeks before leaking out her nose.

He leaned close and spoke softly firmly. "I am going to take my hand off your mouth but you are going to remember your first lesson. I am going to ask you some questions. You will answer them and only answer them; do you understand?"

Miss Smith nodded as much as she could with the belt around her neck holding her tight to the wall.

Mick removed his hand. "Good. Now missy what is your first lesson."

Miss Smith took a deep shuddering breath and muttered, "Shut up and listen." Her voice was suddenly dark with rebellion.

Mick frowned at her tone, but continued, "Now tell me your second lesson."

Her eyes flashed up at his and stared, challenging him to do something. "I am supposed to fucking obey."

His response was quick and harsh; the slap would have rocked her if she was not so tightly bound. The second one was even more violent. Her ears rang with the force of it and her cheeks burned and ached. She tasted blood in her mouth and her tongue instinctively found the tiny cut on the inside of her cheek. She looked at him in shock, her mouth gaping and her eyes terrified.

His voice was quivering with rage. "Missy your third lesson is respect. You will always speak to me with respect." He raised his hand again and she closed her eyes and braced herself but the blow did not come. She heard his feet heavy and loud as he stomped up the stairs. A pang of alarm shook her as she heard the front door slam.

She had no way to measure time. A dry calm voice in the back of her head told her that most likely a minute would seem like an hour with nothing to do but hang there. She listened intently for some clue as to the passing of time, but it was deep in the night and it was a very quiet neighborhood. The only sounds were the subtle creaks and ticks of the old house as it slowly warmed and cooled, she could not hear the old gas heater in the utility room off the back porch but she could almost feel the vibration through the walls of the house when the fan would kick on. She found herself counting the cycles, letting the belt around her neck support the weight of her head, her eyelids sagging shut.

She was jerked awake by the loud sound of his feet on the stairs. He was freshly showered and wearing different clothing when he stood before her, he had dark circles of fatigue under his eyes and he smelled of cigarettes. She had never seen him smoke and he had never tasted of cigarettes when he had kissed her. She wondered who he had been around that smoked.

His voice dropped into his familiar 'teacher' tone. "Missy what is your first lesson?"

This time her voice was soft and obedient. "Be quiet and listen Mick Sir."

He smiled and nodded, "That is the proper attitude and behavior for a student. Now what is your second lesson?"

"I must obey my teacher, Mick Sir."

"And your third lesson?"

"I must be respectful?" She was not sure. He had never exactly spoken this lesson, this rule until last night. Before last night she would have answered that it was something to do with spanking.

He nodded, "Close enough missy. Your third lesson is that you must treat me with respect at all times, in your words, in your tone, in your facial expressions, in your posture."

"Your fourth lesson is that you must accept each and every lesson, every assignment I give you with an enthusiastic attitude. I expect you to approach each learning experience with cooperation and a zeal to learn."

He playfully touched her nose and then her nipple but his eyes were serious. "I can see your fears, and I agree there is some risk to you in this relationship. You must trust me to be discreet missy. No one has seen me come or go from your house. I have parked my truck a distance down the alley from your house. I will only come and go under the cover of darkness. At school I will be Micky and you will be Miss Smith. There will be no more lessons at school. I will not live here." He paused and smiled, "At least I will not live here... yet."

He stroked her nipple again, and a shiver shook her. "Do you understand?"

"Yes Mick Sir."

"Now tell me how you are feeling?"

She stopped and took stock. Her whole body felt numb from being strapped to the wall for so long. She was thirsty and hungry, but most pressing of all was the need to pee. Her bladder was about to burst. "I am tired of standing here Sir, but worst of all, I have to pee really bad." Her tone had dwindled to a little girl pleading with the last words.

"If I let you free are you going to obey the first four lessons?"

"Yes Mick Sir, I promise."

"Say them one more time for me."

"Lesson one is shut up and listen, lesson two is obey, lesson three is to treat you with respect in all things, and lesson four is to... to..." She hesitated trying to reduce it down to a simple phrase, "...to have a good attitude."

Mick was unbuckling the straps as she spoke. "Good missy. Now tell me who you are and who I am."

As the last straps holding her to the wall were released she staggered and almost fell. Mick caught her in his arms and held her tightly. She spoke her words against his chest. "I am missy, your student, and you are Mick Sir, my teacher and owner."

He held her steady and carefully walked her to the bathroom. "A very perceptive statement my little student, for it is true that I own you."

She had to pee too badly to hesitate or think about needing privacy; she sighed and made a happy moaning sound as she finally could ease the pressure in her bladder. "Oh I really needed to do that. Thank you Mick Sir."

After she had wiped and stood, he spoke again. "Take the plug out of your ass. It will probably have some shit on it. Wash it and wash your ass and then give it to me." Missy stiffened and blushed. The thing had been in her ass for so long she had almost forgotten about it. It had stopped vibrating hours ago; she realized the batteries must have run out.

Her face was hot with embarrassment as she pulled and twisted to get the thing out, she ended up grunting and pushing with her stomach help expel it. Her tissues had absorbed most of the lubricant and it dragged at her as she pulled at it. She could see several dark brown specks and streaks on the pink plastic and she hurriedly scrubbed it clean with soap and hot water. She used a wash cloth to clean her whole crotch and then washed her hands thoroughly. She avoided his eyes as she handed him the toy.

"You still hate the idea of something in your ass don't you missy?"

Her eyes were nervous and fearful. "It just seems... um... dirty, Mick Sir."

"Well it can certainly be shitty at times. But we all know shit happens, so you better get used to the idea. I have decided that until we get you on regular birth control it will be the path most taken. I will expect you to remember lesson four."

"Yes Mick Sir."

"I am going to crash for a while. I want you to get dressed and go to the store. I will give you a list of things to get. Go and get me some paper and something to write with."

She was back with the items in her hand, both a pen and a freshly sharpened pencil, in less than a minute, almost running in her hurry to obey. He nodded and smiled at her eagerness. "That's the attitude missy. I expect you to keep it up. Now go get dressed. I don't care what you wear, but try to look nice. Come back for your list when you get back."

She pulled on a pair of faded form fitting jeans over a pair of black bikini underwear. Her lingerie was her one rebellion against aging. She was damned if she was going to wear old lady bras and underwear. She chose a soft silky white blouse and on impulse decided to not wear a bra. Her breasts were small enough that she did not need the support. The only reason she wore bras was because her nipples were so large that they showed through even the thickest of her sweaters. Now they were sliding against the smooth fabric and saucily erect, pressing boldly against the soft fabric. A pair of flat sandals finished the outfit. She did not wear jewelry. She had stopped wearing jewelry years ago.

She brushed her teeth and quickly ran a brush through her thick brown hair, frowning at the gray hairs that were becoming increasingly obvious. She put a light coat of powder on her face and quickly coated her lips with red lipstick and headed downstairs.

Mick looked up from the desk where he had been writing. "You look nice." His eyes slid down to her nipples pressing against the fabric. "I like the way your tits look in that shirt. You ain't wearing a bra are you?"

"No Mick Sir."

"I like that. OK go get some sheets and blankets. I want you to make this bed." He stifled a yawn with a fist.

He continued to write as she deftly made the bed. When she was finished she stood nervously, shifting from one foot to another. He spoke without looking up. "If a student has completed all their work they should kneel near their teacher's feet to indicate that they are ready for a new task. That student will wait patiently until their teacher has time to devote to their next assignment."

Missy quickly dropped to her knees. She shivered in excitement when he began to idly stroke her hair as he wrote. Finally he yawned again and dropped the pencil. "That's enough for now." He stood and kicking the old chair out of the way began to unbutton his shirt. She watched in fascination as he stripped all his clothes off. He was smooth and deeply tanned from the waist up, making the lighter skin of his ass and legs look white in contrast, but she knew even the untanned skin was darker than hers. His cock nestled in a patch of black hair, it was not fully erect but she could see it was swelling under her gaze. She unconsciously licked her lips and the swallowed.

Mick moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Come here missy. You can help your teacher go to sleep." Her eyes flashed up to his face and then returned to the swelling flesh that hypnotized her. She crept to him on her knees and looked up at him uncertain. "Suck my cock missy, just a nice simple blowjob to help your teacher sleep."

As she took his cock in her mouth, he continued to speak. "After you are done, take the list and do all the things on it. I will expect breakfast at noon. Don't wake me up before that." She made an assenting 'mmm hmph' as she worked her lips up and down his shaft, sucking and licking eagerly at the flesh filling her mouth. She felt his hands on her face, giving her gentle nudges, controlling the pace of her movements, speeding her up as his muscles tensed and the cock in her mouth swelled even larger. His voice was tense and hoarse, "Deeper, go deeper damn it. Use your hand; jack me off as you go up and down. Yes, fuck yes, like that." His fingers tensed and pushed her face down, driving the hot flesh deeper in her throat and held her there as he filled her mouth with the hot salty ropes of come.

Mick sagged back into the bed and pulled the covers over himself, his eyes were closed before she was on her feet.

Missy picked up the paper and backed silently out of the room. Once upstairs she sat at the kitchen table and looked at the list.

Breakfast at noon: steak, eggs, hash browns, orange juice, milk (whole milk)

Dinner: Meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob, chocolate cake

Case beer: corona.

2 lengths of chain, 30 ft each... dog chain OK, four padlocks

Dog collar big enough to fit your neck and small padlock and leash

CD player

Thin exercise pad

AA batteries: at least a couple dozen

Condoms: big package

Desk lamp

Lubricant: KY or Astroglide... water base

Shaving cream and razors: triple blade

Black hair dye

Black eyeliner and mascara

Blood red lipstick

Small rubber bands

Missy looked at her watch. It was early only 7:00am. She had plenty of time. It was almost 10:00am when she was unloading the stuff from the car. She put all the nonfood items carefully by the door leading down to the basement and put away the groceries. She was starving and quickly put some bread in the toaster. She could feel a headache coming on from the lack of caffeine and low blood sugar. She made a small pot of coffee. She always put several teaspoons of sugar in her coffee, making it almost syrup. She was sitting at the table sipping at the sweet hot coffee, nibbling on dry toast when Mick walked into the kitchen.

Missy jumped to her feet and looked at her watch in alarm. It was only 11:00. She had all the things laid out to make his breakfast and was waiting until it was closer to noon to get started on cooking. He had pulled on his jeans but was bare foot and naked from the waist up. His hair was tousled and his eyes sleepy. He looked younger than his nineteen years.

"I am sorry, did I wake you, Mick Sir."

"I smell coffee."

"Yes Sir, I made myself some to wake up. Would you like some?"

He nodded and sat down at the table. She poured a cup and asked, "Do you take anything in it Sir?"

He shook his head, "Just black."

After he picked up the cup and took a swallow, he looked at her critically. "I will require you to be naked unless otherwise directed. Go to your room and put away your clothing and come back. Always undress when you get home from running errands." Missy scurried up to her room, too much in a hurry to remember to speak a response.

Naked she stood uncertainly a brief second and then knelt at his feet, waiting. He sat for several minutes sipping his coffee and then reached down and took the arm with a watch on it and lifted it, checking the time. "Go ahead and make breakfast." He took the watch off her wrist and put it down on the table.

"Yes Mick Sir." She busied herself making his breakfast. "How do you want your steak cooked Sir?"


As the hash browns turned golden in the pan and the steak sizzled in another, she set the table. When she put two plates on the table he held up a hand, stopping her. He spoke softly. "A student does not eat at the same table as her teacher." She nodded and took one plate away, silently wondering if she was ever going to get a chance to eat this weekend. Her stomach growled in protest and she shot an apprehensive look toward his face, but he appeared to have not noticed.

He told her to fry him four eggs over easy, and after she put the plate in front of him he looked at the floor by his feet. "A student who is finished with her work..." He did not need to finish the sentence. Missy was already at his feet.

He was silent as he ate but he frequently reached down and touched her hair. Each caress stirred up her feelings making her lean toward him. One time turning and pressing her lips to his hand as he touched her cheek. He gave her a gentle warning tap on the cheek and she forced herself to be still.

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