Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 01

Missy gives herself to Mick. Her training begins.

Enjoy

xantu

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Missy knelt on the thin exercise pad and put the clothes pin on her lips. It was ten minutes until 8:00 but she could not wait any longer. Just the knowledge that he was going to walk into the house soon had her trembling with excitement.

It seemed like five weeks instead of just five days ago when she had watched him leave. Her heart had nearly broken as she watched him walk out the door leaving her alone to face her demons in this house that was not a home.

He had called it a crypt and she had sensed the truth in his words. There was no comfort or safety here, only sadness and shame. She wasn't sure why she had come back to this place, but she suspected it was because she shied away from life. Unable to feel happy she hid from the rest of the world trying to hide from her sadness, existing without love, waiting to die.

If it had not been the long list of tasks he had left her with she suspected that she would have gone mad. He had stripped away all her carefully marshaled defenses, ripped open old wounds, pushing her to face her sadness. And then he had gone, leaving behind a list of tasks and the torture of seeing him and not being able to speak or touch him for the week.

Each day as she taught her English Writing class, it was bizarre to look up and see him sitting in the classroom of students, his stormy gray eyes watching, measuring yet saying nothing. He did not smile, nod, or give her any comfort. He had promised to call but there had been no call. She found looking at him too frightening, the urge to cry out to him, to beg him for something, anything to relieve her agony nearly overwhelming. Her eyes could look at anything but him. Her teaching suffered as she stammered and then mechanically recited her instructions to the class.

She had cut and dyed her hair and worn the makeup the way he had told her too. It had caused quite a stir among her students. Several of the girls were enthusiastic, exclaiming that she looked so much more stylish with the braids. She was surprised when several of her coworkers had complimented her on the style change as well, but no one had made reference to Abby Sciuto, much to her relief.

When she had gotten the birth control injection and put the red apple on the desk, he had not even looked at it.

She had thrown herself into the tasks he had set for her, cleaning the basement meticulously and then dusting and arranging all the porcelain figurines, and other mementoes of her mother's acquisitive life in orderly groups with labels. She had dug out many of the original sales slips and other documents from her mother's records and after looking on EBay and other internet sites she had written down an estimated asking price for many of them.

It had been hard going through her mother's things. Over and over she would hear her mother's voice harsh and shrill, forbidding her to touch them, calling her clumsy and careless, saying that she would break them. The impulse to smash them was still strong in her. She remembered all the times when she would sneak into the forbidden living room and secretly push a delicate figurine to the edge of its shelf and to her ecstatic terror and delight, leave it precariously balanced praying that it would fall and break once she was gone. Even now it was easier to hate this detritus of her mother's compulsive collecting than to hate her mother.

Starting her own EBay account had been much easier than she had anticipated. She bought a simple digital camera and practiced taking pictures, found an image hosting site and set up a PayPal account. She had put up almost two dozen items for auction and she was starting to enjoy the thrill of seeing that people were actually bidding. The idea that soon these loathsome little things would soon be cluttering up someone else's lives was intoxicating.

It had been hard to keep in touch with missy. Each time she handled her mother's things, baby Sarah would whine and push at her consciousness. The impulse to touch herself, to feel again the rush of freedom and excitement that kept missy alive and vibrant in her mind and banish the sadness was overwhelming. Over and over she would catch her fingers sliding down and exploring the aching need between her legs, only to pull her hand away as his words forbidding her to do this echoed in his mind.

Even now as she knelt waiting for him, the urge to disobey him, to allow her hand to creep the scant few inches from where it rested on her thigh to the aching heat that throbbed between her legs was almost irresistible. Only the hope that he would be here soon kept her hand at bay. There was a growing sense of insecurity building in her heart. The fear that he would not come, that somehow this had all been an illusion, a delusion of madness, grew in her. Inside her head missy fought with Sarah, insisting that he would come, that he would not forget her, as Sarah whined and cried that no one could ever love her, that she was bad, that she was dirty.

She did not know how long she knelt there, minutes or hours, shaken by the winds of her anticipation and doubts. When she heard his feet walking through the main floor above where she knelt in the basement, the wave of relief was so strong she almost collapsed to the floor. She had not even been aware of how tightly she had been held her pent up energy until it threatened to explode, her body surging, fighting to stand and run to him. Missy screamed in triumph, he is here! She would have called out to him but the clothespin holding her lips together reminded her to hold her words trapped in her mouth. She held herself rigidly under control; still an excited whine shook her chest.

Mick did not come down to the basement for what seemed to be a long time. But missy basked in the sound of his footsteps above her, he was here and he would come to her at the time of his choosing. All doubt was gone and all that remained was anticipation.

When she heard his feet on the stairs, descending down into the part of the house he had claimed as his, she found her excitement building with each firm thump of his feet bringing him closer to her. She could not resist craning her neck, straining to glimpse him as he entered into the play room, her heart racing. Her whole body was shaking so hard that the clothespin on her lips vibrated in a kind of crazy syncopation with her shuddering excitement.

When she caught sight of him her breath caught in her chest. An irresistible wave of excitement made her whole cunt clench and spasm. A small wave of pleasure rolled over her from the small orgasm that ignited spontaneously in her core.

He was wearing his usual tattered jeans and t-shirt. His hair was tousled and hanging down over one of his eyes. He had a beer in his hand and he stopped and looked around the basement, taking in the clean curtains and shining floors. He nodded and smiled to himself.

As his eyes turned to her, missy found herself suddenly inexplicably shy, turning her eyes downward to her hands as they strained against the muscles of her thighs, her nails digging into her skin. She forced her hands and then the rest of her body to relax, but it was at odds to the tumult in her mind. She could relax but she could not still the trembling in her limbs.

When he finally spoke to her, the very sound of his voice triggered another wave of pleasure. "You have been kneeling for a long while. I am late."

Her eyes flashed up to his but she did not speak. It was not a question.

"Missy let's get you up and let you stretch your legs. It is after 9:00. You have been on your knees for over an hour." He reached his hand down to her and pulled her to her feet. She stood and then staggered, for the first time becoming aware that her legs had gone completely numb. The storm of emotions in her mind keeping her oblivious to her body's growing discomfort. As the circulation returned to her legs a million needles stabbed deep into her muscles, she clenched her teeth and whimpered.

"Walk around missy. Walk it off." She ground her teeth as she took a shaky drunken path around the room. He nodded and encouraged her. "Good girl. It was not my intention to leave you so long on your knees but sometimes things just work out that way."

When the pain had reduced to a deep ache she turned and returned to him, and painfully lowered herself to kneel at his feet, and waited for his next instruction. Her legs quivered with fatigue. "Missy move back to your pad and for now just sit, don't kneel. Give your legs a break."

Rather than stand she crawled to the pad and then sat on her hip, curling her legs under her, unconsciously rubbing at the aching muscles with her hand as she looked up at him curiously.

Mick sat down on the old office chair. "So did you complete all your assignments?"

Missy reached up and took off the clothes pin, noticing for the first time that her lips were a little sore where it had held them closed. "Yes Mick Sir." When she replaced the pin she carefully put it in a different place.

Mick looked at her and pursed up his lips. "Missy we need to talk. I want you to be able to talk with me without having to ask each time you want to say something. But I also want you to remember your lessons of listening and speaking respectfully. Do you think you can do that?"

A shiver of uncertainty shook her. She reached up and took off the pin and spoke honestly, "Mick Sir, I don't know. I know I want to, but I am afraid I will forget." She held the pin in her hand, looking down at it. She whispered, "I missed you so much."

He smiled and shook his head. "Already you forget. I know I have been gone too long. That is what I want to speak about."

Missy kept the pin gripped in her fingers, staring down at it willing herself to remember, to ignore the clamor in her mind. "Yes Sir."

Mick cleared his throat. "Missy when I came to you the first time, I did not ask for your surrender. In many ways I forced you to become mine. For this relationship to continue, I must ask for your willing surrender. You must give yourself to me but before I ask this of you, you must understand what this will mean."

Her eyes found his and she slowly nodded.

"Missy, if you choose to give yourself to me, you will become mine body and soul. Not just teacher and student, but Master and slave as well. I will have the right to choose where you live, what you wear, where you work, who you fuck. You will be my property. Your body and all your belongings will become my property. You should be aware that once I graduate from high school I have every intention of moving away from this town. If you are my slave I will take you with me. Do you understand all this so far?"

Her eyes were large and full of confusion. "Yes Mick Sir, I think so."

"Do you have any questions?"

"Is it forever? Mick Sir, I think I could bear anything but the thought, that if I gave myself to you and then you would leave me, is too much to bear. I am so much older than you. It's hard to believe that you will still want me when I get old."

"Forever is too much to think about, but as long as you need me I promise to never abandon you."

"Mick Sir, will you ever tell me why?"

"Why?"

"Why me, Sir? It seems so impossible that you would want me. Our ages..."

Mick held up his hand and interrupted her, "Stop."

Instantly she was silent, her head lowered, her eyes locked on the clothes pin in her hand.

His voice was thoughtful. "Missy you are not asking any questions that I have not asked myself a hundred times before. Every time I saw you I became more obsessed with possessing you. You were one of the reasons that I dropped out of school last year. I could not come to school, look at you and not reach out to touch you. I don't know why. All I know is what is. What 'is' is the fact I could not stay away."

Missy looked up at him, shock in her eyes. "I never knew."

Mick ignored her lapse in respect. "I think that is one of the things that made me the craziest. You seemed like you were asleep. I wanted to wake you up."

A tiny smile turned up one corner of her mouth. "I think you did that." She paused and then added, "Mick Sir." Her voice softened. "I am glad you did. How did you know that needed you to be strong, that I needed to be forced?"

"Actually I didn't know. It was a huge risk. I knew that if I was wrong, I would probably end up in jail. But I did know that this was the only way I could have you. I knew that if there was any chance to have you it would have to be everything, body and soul." He stopped and swallowed. "Missy I have a couple of different jobs. After school I work training as a diesel mechanic but on the weekends I sometimes work as a fill in at an adult bookstore. I have always been attracted by the idea of tying up, controlling and whipping women. I met a guy at the store, a guy who is a Dominant, who brought his slave with him to the store. I asked him a lot of questions. He has ended up a friend and has been kind of a teacher to me."

"Mick Sir, I don't think it would make any difference in my answer but could I ask about you?"

"So you know your answer?"

"Oh yes Mick Sir. There really wasn't any question about that. I don't think I could live without you."

A tremor shook Mick and she realized that he had not been sure about her answer. That he had been wound up tight with the fear that she would refuse him. He took a long shaky breath and cleared his throat. "About me? What do you want to know about me?"

"Mick Sir, who are you? Tell me about you. How did you get to be so strong?"

He stood and paced around the room and then threw himself down on the bed. "Come here missy, let me put my arms around you."

Eagerly she crept to the bed and crawled up into his arms. His voice was soft as he held her, his hands stroking her skin. "I don't know who my father was. My Mom is kind of a whore. When she has a job she works as a dancer, a cocktail waitress or a part time prostitute. I did not live with her all the time. She has a pretty bad drug problem and she would go into rehab pull her life together and get custody of me and my half sister for a while and then she would start using again. Then we would go back into foster care. I never stayed in one place long enough to ever get attached to anyone. I always seemed to have a job or two. The only person I could depend upon was me, if that is strength than I guess that is where it came from."

His hands on her touching her skin lit fires where ever they touched. She found herself pressing against him, her heart starting to race. A long trembling sigh shook her. His voice came sharper, "So missy will you give yourself to me. Will you be both my student and my slave?"

Her voice throbbed with emotion, "Oh yes Mick Sir."

"Even when it means giving up everything to me, your body, your heart, your very soul?" He pressed his lips to her neck his breath hot against her flesh, his teeth grazing her skin.

"All of me, Mick Sir." For the first time her hands strayed to touch, tentatively exploring, lightly dancing across his shoulders and down his back.

His voice was low and intense, his lips moving against the shell of her ear. "I will ask a lot of you. It will not be easy. I will make you do things you will not want to do. I will expect you to obey me no matter what I ask from you."

"Then I will have to trust that you will not hurt me, because I am yours to do with what you will, my Master." Her voice was a breathless whisper that changed to a moan as he once again pressed his lips to her neck and then bit down. A sharp lancing pain shot through her and she writhed against him.

Suddenly he was tearing at his clothing, pulling his t-shirt over his head, working at his belt buckle with impatient fingers. Missy pulled feverishly at his jeans yanking them down over his hips and off his feet as he kicked of his boots. She could not tell if he was the one that tossed her down on the bed or if she threw herself down, dragging him down on top of her. All she knew was that she had to have him now and he seemed as impatient as her to be joined.

His entry into her was sweet stab of pure ecstasy. She called out in joy and wrapped her legs around his lean hips, rocking and surging with each of his lunges into her. Their mating was simple and violent, Mick gripped her hips, thrusting with a single minded primal intensity, his eyes blazing with conquest. Missy pulling at his body, urging him on, her eyes locked on his face.

Each slamming thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body, pushing her higher and higher, filling her with heat and light. When she could not contain it any more missy cried out a single word, "Master!" and then exploded, her body convulsing under his, no longer under her control but given totally over to him.

As Mick lunged into her and shuddered, growling softly deep in his chest as he filled her with his essence, he grated out, "You are mine!"

Mick lay on top of her, leaning on one elbow stroking her face. He was whispering softly as he looked down into her eyes. "I own you now, missy. You are mine. I am your Master now. Your whole life will be devoted to serving me. I promise to take good care of you. You were right I will not hurt you." He paused and smiled. "Well actually I promise to hurt you. I will hurt you a lot but I will never injure you and I am pretty sure you will like it, most of it."

Missy idly, sleepily kissed at his finger tips as they caressed her face. Her voice was foggy and soft. "Mick Sir, can I call you Master sometimes?"

He chuckled and kissed her lips lightly. "No my little student you may not, at least not until your training is complete." He lifted himself off her and missy felt a pang of sadness as she felt him slip from her. He sighed and lay over onto his back. "Missy I want you to use your mouth to clean off my cock."

A tiny voice in her head wondered if it would taste bad, but she ignored it and quickly took him into her mouth, licking and sucking off the fluids from their joining. She could taste both his essence and her own salty rich fluids and a wave of excitement rolled over her. She made a soft hungry groan and greedily swallowed down the sudden mouthful of saliva that flooded her mouth. She eagerly searched out and licked up every last drop and then looked up at him, her eyes sparkling, still licking her lips and swallowing, savoring the flavors still filling her mouth.

Mick looked at her with indulgent eyes, "You seemed to like that."

"Oh yes Mick Sir. I liked it a lot."

"Then you will like it even more when you get to eat my come out of another bitch's cunt won't you?"

Missy froze and looked up at him. The idea of sharing him, having him fuck another woman seemed hard to encompass, but at the same time she knew that if this was his decision then she would unquestioningly obey. Still there was a pang of uncertainty and jealousy. What if this other woman was younger or more beautiful? What if he liked her better?

Mick's voice was sharp, "I asked you a question missy. A student always answers her teacher's questions."

Missy gave herself a little shake. "Yes Mick Sir, I guess I would. I had never thought about it I guess."

His voice was a still sharp. "Missy, as your Master I will decide who you will be with. There will be times when I will tell you to fuck other people and you will obey me. I will also fuck other people and as my slave you will be happy for me that I am finding pleasure in another's body. If I tell you to eat my come out of another woman's cunt you will do it with all the obedience and enthusiastic attitude that I require of you."

Her voice was soft and a little uncertain. "If my Teacher and Master commands me to do these things I will obey." Her eyes found his, "But Mick Sir, I guess I am afraid too."