Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 04

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New lessons.
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Part 11 of the 11 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 04/07/2008
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Training Missy Chapter 4: New Lessons

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Missy woke to the familiar sensation of Mick touching her, a casual finger tracing the contours of her face. She opened her eyes and blinked as she focused on the sight of his black eyes looking over the edge of the bed at her as she slept on the floor beside him. Pushing her blankets aside, she pulled herself up to her knees, her eyes downcast. Almost inaudibly she murmured, "Good morning, Mick Sir, how may I serve you?"

He lay back and looked at her analytically, "Pretty good, arch your back and spread your knees a little more." His eyes scanned her, "I like how your hair looks kind of kinky from the braids and still really messy, in a cloud around your face. You look like you have been totally slutty all night and are ready for more."

The corner of missy's mouth twitched and she struggled to compose her features. "Thank you, Mick Sir.

"Touch yourself; show me how slutty you really are."

Missy's eyes looked up towards his and she could feel her face turning warm, but she did not hesitate. Her fingers slid down into her folds and began to work their way in and out of her passage.

Mick's voice turned husky, "Fuck yourself with your fingers, push three of them up your cunt."

Missy found herself biting down on her lower lip, her eyes locked on her hand as she slowly sensually worked her fingers in and out, breathing deeply in perfect time with her plunging fingers. The room was silent except for the soft wet squishing sounds of her fingers. The rich scent of her building excitement rose up around her.

Slowly missy could feel her muscles tensing, trembling as a heat built in her body. Wordless whimpers began to rise up with each soft gasping breath. Her whole arm was rigid and moving more quickly. Just as her climax approached, Mick's voice penetrated her awareness, "Stop."

Missy froze, her eyes clenched closed, holding her fingers motionless still buried deep inside her. She breathed in short gasps from her open mouth. Slowly she opened her eyes, raising her gaze to meet his. A deep trembling shudder shook through her as she slowly pulled her fingers out. Mick's voice was sharp, "Did you come?"

Missy had to swallow before she could speak, her voice was low and shaky, "No, Mick Sir."

"Take your wet fingers and rub them across your face."

The smell of her juices was strong and sent a small spasm quivering through her as she slowly smeared them across her face.

"Lick your fingers off."

Missy realized she had been staring into his dark hypnotic eyes and nervously dropped her eyes as she sucked the flavor from her fingers. She could feel her cunt throbbing and clenching, refusing to calm. It was like his words, his eyes watching her, the things he was telling her to do were holding her there on the edge, teetering.

Forcing her breathing to calm, she clasped her hands behind her back, once more arching her back and staring at the floor. Mick was still and silent, but she could feel his eyes on her. He climbed from the bed and moved to stand in front of her. Missy found her eyes staring at his erect cock, inches from her face. Unconsciously she licked her lips and leaned toward him, eager to feel him in her mouth. Again his words stopped her movement, "No, keep your mouth shut. Be still." His hand was strong, gripping her hair as he began to rub his hot flesh across her face, slowly grinding his hardness against her eyes, cheeks and lips. Missy greedily inhaled the strong scent of his crotch. In addition to the familiar smell of his body, she could smell the scent of Lolly on him from the night before.

Missy found her body turning soft, pliant, swaying with his movements against her, surrendering to his hand controlling her. Abruptly his grip in her hair tightened and she gasped in sudden pain as he lifted her and threw her face down over the edge of the bed. In one smooth movement he slammed into her from behind. Missy grunted with his sudden entry and then arched her back, pressing back against him, wanting nothing more than to feel him deeper and harder inside her. A soft wordless groan of fulfillment broke from her lips.

Mick kept his grip on her hair and began to thrust hard and fast. Each plunge into her filled her to her depths. Missy could feel him battering against her womb. Each thrust forced urgent words from her lips. Almost incoherent, missy groaned out, "Yes, fuck yes, fuck me hard, yes." It seemed like all her awareness had dwindled to her cunt and the hard cock slamming into her over and over. As the sensation built to a peak, she tensed and began to shudder with the pressure of her pending explosion.

Mick leaned down low over her and growled, "Don't come without my permission. Beg me for it."

A panicked tone rose up in missy's voice as she wailed, "Oh god, please, please, please. It's here. I can't, oh god, I can't..." A strangled scream interrupted her words as she began to convulse with her climax. Mick growled and lunged deep as he unloaded deep inside her.

Missy lay under him, trembling with apprehension as he eased himself slowly in and out of her still clenching cunt. Her voice was hoarse, "Mick Sir, I tried, I just couldn't. I don't know how."

"Shut up. Remember your lessons."

Missy closed her mouth and repeated in her mind, "Shut up and listen, obey, respect, and attitude," but she could not help but wonder how she could obey when she did not know how.

When Mick finally slid from her, he used her hair to pull her up, turning her to face his cock and with a single glance to confirm his wishes; she began to clean him with her mouth. A thrill of excitement made her cunt clench and missy felt a soft tide of hot liquid start to trickle from her cunt. Instinctively she reached back and pressed her hand against her cunt, holding it in. A soft whimper of joy shook through her as she engulfed his flagging cock in her mouth. Mick sighed, "Good, always do this unless I tell you different." Missy could not help the impulsive thought that that was a good thing, a really good thing.

As she continued to lick and suck, pressing her nose into the fur of his belly, inhaling over and over the heady scent of his cock, his hand tightened in her hair again, pressing her face even more firmly against his belly. His voice was thoughtful, "You came without permission."

A wave of confusion and frustration with herself swept through her, and she lay very still and passive under his grip, gagged by his flesh in her mouth. He had held that same grip in her hair since they had started and she could feel her scalp really starting to hurt. She wondered if he was going to tear her hair out. In many ways she savored the sharp stinging pull on her scalp, making her whole head feel like it was in a vice, totally controlled by his hand. A tiny hopeful thought coursed through her, maybe he would beat her, she had not felt the whip in a week and she realized how much she missed it.

"Missy, I expect you to have more control. You watched Lolly last night. You know it is possible."

A small wave of protest rose up in missy. Yes possible for Lolly, but she was not sure if she shared that ability. She wanted to ask him how to do that, but his hand kept her trapped with his cock filling her mouth and her face pressed against his stomach. Missy reminded herself to 'shut up and listen', that he had not directly asked her a question. She focused on softly, rhythmically sucking on the flesh in her mouth, savoring the flavor and the sensation. A soft wave of exultation coursed through her as she felt him begin to swell and press against the back of her throat. She fluttered her tongue as it pressed against the sensitive underside and cautiously made a deliberate swallowing action, trying to adjust to the pressure that was beginning to make her feel the urge to gag.

Mick jerked her face away from his crotch and stood abruptly. Missy leaned toward him, unwilling to lose this contact, wanting more, mindlessly fighting against his hand in her hair. A soft pleading groan came up and out of her gaping lips. Mick gave her an impatient shake, "Stop it."

Missy blinked and froze, then licked her lips and swallowed. She turned her smoldering eyes up to his face and then looked away fearful of the anger she saw in his eyes.

"In the future you will always ask permission to come. You will beg for it and you will wait for permission."

A wail of frustration rose up, "Mick Sir, I can't. I can't make it stop. I don't know how."

"Pay attention to your body. Tell me if you cannot contain it. Beg for my help."

"Yes, Sir." Missy's voice sounded doubtful.

"In addition I want you to tell me about every orgasm you experience without permission as soon as possible. During those days we cannot be together, you will start to keep a journal. You will record if you have had an orgasm and what led up to it. I want you to write down what you were thinking about, what feelings you were having, and most of all how the orgasm felt and how you felt afterwards."

"Yes, Sir."

Mick looked down at her, "Why are you touching your cunt?"

"I am sorry, Sir. Your come was starting to leak out and I was just holding it inside until I could wash."

"Eat it, every time you can, eat it."

Carefully keeping her hand cupped under her crotch, she raised herself to a more vertical position and deliberately pressed down with her abdominal muscles, tightening her cunt. A small flood of hot liquid filled her palm. She brought her sticky fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean. Over and over she reached down and scooped her fingers deep into her cunt and licked off the creamy fluid.

The action of straining with her muscles made her very aware that she had not yet used the bathroom and that she needed to go. Both her bladder and bowels felt full. Missy raised her hand. "Yes, missy?"

"This student would ask for permission to use the bathroom."

A sharp look came over his face, "Number one or number two?"

Missy flushed in embarrassment, "Both, Mick Sir."

"Sure, go ahead."

As missy quickly climbed off the bed and began to walk toward the bathroom, she realized he was following close behind. She turned and flashed a panicked look at him. He gave her an impatient look, "A good student keeps no secrets from her teacher. A good student has no modesty or shame about her body or its functions. A good student is on display at all times."

Missy could not keep the horrified look from her face, but she turned and forced her faltering feet to take her into the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and stared miserably at her feet. It took several minutes before she could relax enough to let her urine flow. She quickly wiped and stood up.

"I thought you needed to take a shit."

"I... um... can't."

"You constipated?"

"Um... No, Sir. It's just... um... with you standing there... um... I just don't have to go any more."

Mick shrugged, "Well, go ahead and get in the shower. Wash me off."

When her hands began to dwell too long as she washed his cock, he pushed her away. "Give it a rest."

Missy cooked blueberry pancakes with sausages for breakfast and knelt at his feet as he ate. He once again gave her his plate with her meal already cut into bite sized pieces, but this time there was no fork on the plate. Mick slid his chair back and watched, and when she looked at him questioningly and delicately picked up a bite with her fingers, he grunted and shook his head. "Lean over, missy, eat from the dish without your hands."

Missy carefully gathered her hair into one of her hands, holding it up and to one side and leaned down and began to eat. She was keenly aware of her nudity and her humble position. And then to her complete embarrassment she felt an ominous rumble of gas in her belly. She tightened her whole body, trying to keep from farting as she leaned over.

By the time she had finished cleaning up the kitchen, cramps were making her wince and squirm. Missy turned to Mick and raised her hand. He raised an eyebrow, "Bathroom?"

"Yes, Sir, number two."

"Really?"

Missy cringed, "Yes, Sir. Really."

Again he followed her into the bathroom. Again she looked miserably at the floor, trying desperately to relax enough to release the pressure in her gut. Finally as she sat there, missy miserably raised her hand. When he nodded curtly at her, she mumbled, "Mick Sir, it's hard."

"The shit is hard?"

"No, Sir, shitting is hard. I need to go. But I... um... can't relax."

Mick looked thoughtful, "So if I went away, you think you could do it?"

Missy nodded wretchedly, "Yes, Sir."

"Okay, this time I am going to stand outside the door. But I want you to tell me exactly when the shit starts coming out of you and do not wipe or get up. Just tell me when it starts and when you are finished."

Missy winced and nodded, "Yes, Sir."

It still took several minutes, but eventually nature won over and she could feel the feces start to slowly slide out of her. Her voice was strangled with embarrassment, "Pooping, Sir."

Mick's voice was amused, "Good girl."

The ludicrousness of the whole situation made a tiny hysterical giggle bubble up. She choked it down as she called dutifully, "Done, Sir."

Mick walked in and gestured peremptorily, "Stand up and lean over. Show me your ass."

Missy fought the urge to beg him not to make her do this, but she gritted her teeth and obeyed his commands. She stiffened when she felt him wiping her with toilet paper. He pulled her up to stand beside him, "Missy, look in the toilet and tell me what you see."

"I see poop, Sir."

"It's shit, missy, nothing special, nothing bad. It is part of being alive. Missy, I don't find your shit especially repulsive or erotic. Eventually I will expect you to stop this ridiculous modesty about your shit. If you can eat, fuck, sleep, cry around me, I would expect you should be able to shit too."

"I am sorry, Sir. It's just always been an issue for me. When I was little..."

Mick held up his hand, cutting her off, "I am well aware that this was an issue. That is why I am focusing on it. I would not have even thought of asking this of you if it was easy."

Missy felt a shock of understanding. She had been thinking that he did not know; that he was somehow doing this without understanding how difficult it was for her. The realization that he was deliberately pushing at the things that were most challenging for her, made her head spin. The soft dry voice in the back of her mind, the voice she was starting to think of as sober, thoughtful Miss Smith, commented that there was a kind of evil genius behind this tactic. Her shame was more than a metaphor, it was central to Sarah's existence.

Missy wondered if Sarah would ever be able to let go of the poop, if the wounded little girl inside her would ever go away. A surge of hope filled her; she wanted nothing in the world more than to have Sarah driven out of her. It seemed like the pain and pleasure pushed Sarah further and further away, but the humiliation and fear drew her back in.

Again the dry inner voice observed that Mick did not seem disgusted. Her mother had always been disgusted. A terrible, offended, hateful expression always twisted her mother's features each time she had to deal with little Sarah's incontinence. She sensed none of this from her Master. A warm flood of relief and gratitude filled her and she dropped to her knees and tentatively raised her hand, "Yes, missy?"

Her voice quivered with emotion, "This student wishes to thank her teacher for this lesson. This student understands now what her teacher is trying to teach her."

"And what is that?"

"To not hold onto the past, to let go of who I was and work at becoming something better so that I may serve you better." Missy could not help but grin and pun, "You are teaching me to let go of all that old shit."

Mick roared with laughter, "Excellent, my little student. That was excellent and reflects so well a good attitude." He reached down and caressed her face, "What reward would you ask for such an insightful comment?"

"Mick Sir, if it would not be too troublesome, I have not had a review of my first lessons in almost a week. I find my good marks fading and I find that distressing."

"I am pleased that you ask for more lessons. A good student always seeks knowledge."

Missy leaned against his hand and smiled happily.

Mick looked thoughtful, "Missy, you have a nice maple tree in your back yard. Pull on a coat and go out and cut me some nice switches. Get two or three about as thick as your finger and about as long as your arm."

She felt her mouth go dry with anticipation, "Yes, Sir." She jumped up and trotted upstairs to her coat closet and pulled on a knee length yellow plastic rain coat. When she went into the back yard, she blinked at the bright sunshine and blue sky and realized she looked a little out of place in her coat with naked legs and bare feet sticking out underneath. She quickly grabbed some pruning shears from the garden shed and cut three branches from the tree. As she turned to hurry back into the house she saw her back neighbor standing in his yard, looking at her over the fence with a curious look on his face. She waved and gaily called, "Greetings," and then trotted back into the house.

She was giggling at the memory of his hesitant wave and puzzled expression as she hung up the coat and carried the switches down to Mick. "What are you laughing about?"

"One of my neighbors saw me in my rain coat and bare legs. It is a bright beautiful spring day. No need for a rain coat. I must have looked like a potential flasher."

"You should have done it."

Missy froze and it was all rational, careful Miss Smith who protested, "Oh good lord... Um... I mean, Mick Sir, please, I don't want to start any rumors. I have to work."

Mick laughed, "Okay, not where we live, but maybe somewhere else?"

Missy dropped to her knees, "Mick Sir, you are my Master and I will obey you." Then she could not help but mutter, "If I get arrested I hope you will bail me out of jail. And be willing to support me because I suddenly become unemployable."

Mick's voice was amused as he gently chided, "What kind of an attitude is that?"

Missy looked up at his face her eyes sparkling with humor. She cautiously joked, "Um... a shitty one?"

The corner of Mick's mouth twitched, but he held up his hand cautioning her. "Be very, very careful with little saucy comments like that, my little student. You could easily find your lessons becoming much more exacting." He picked up the switches and swung them experimentally through the air. They made an ominous whistling sound as the cut through the air.

Missy found her body tensing and quivering at the sound. Cautiously she raised her hand, and when he nodded, she asked, "Mick Sir, please will there be a gag?"

"Do you want one?"

"Yes, Sir, please."

"You choose. You can be tied or gagged, but not both."

Missy's eyes looked up at him, puzzled, "Not tied?" She was so surprised at the idea that she completely forgot to use the respectful words.

"One or the other."

Missy thought about the sight of her neighbor being out in the warm sunny afternoon and she blinked at the thought of him hearing any screams coming up from her basement, "Then I choose the gag." She felt a wave of mixed emotions as he held up the gag and pushed it into her open mouth. It felt frightening and reassuring all at once. She bit down on the firm rubber and the sensation of her jaws tensing and flexing seemed to calm the fearful feelings.

"I will expect you to hold your body still." Mick tied a length of rope hanging from the central eyebolt in the archway. "Hold onto this. When you let go, we will stop." Missy reached up and wrapped the rope around her hand a couple of times and Mick corrected her, "No, don't wrap it like that. Just hold onto it. Use both hands; grip it in your palms." Missy adjusted her grip and he nodded, "Good, now hold it just a little lower, and bend slightly at the waist. Keep your back straight and your feet spread apart." He pressed down a little on the small of her back, "Stick your ass out a little more."

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