Mistress Bought

Though I had worked off-and-on as a professional Dominatrix during college, I now did it strictly for fun. I had left the coast and the ocean I loved so much, moving to the cold, gray ski resort town not long after graduating. My career paid more than enough to meet my expenses, but I quickly grew bored with my much calmer life and decided to place an ad online.

As this was merely a hobby I felt comfortable charging about three times my previous rate in an effort to raise my level of clientele. I also felt I could be more choosy, playing with the people and fetishes that appealed to me, rather than conforming to someone else's fantasy.

I lived in a nice condo complex, filled mostly with single executives, which was often used as a vacation retreat for wealthy travelers. I contacted the condo's agency and was able to purchase a second smaller unit. This was a studio, formerly used as a nanny's apartment, which was directly beneath my own unit. Once the paperwork was complete I went to work designing my ideal 'dungeon', including a set of stairs leading directly to my apartment, hidden behind a locked door.

With the details now complete, I began to sort through my potential clients. I work in a highly specialized field, which paid well without having to work excessive hours. Aside from going to the gym and a little volunteer work, my schedule was fairly open.

I cultivated a small group of eager clients. Most were high-powered business executives in the area. Several frequented the area on 'get-aways' from their normally busy lives. Most were men, but there were a couple of women in the mix as well.

I required each to book in 2-4 hour blocks of time, and I dictated when they were expected to return. I also required a mandatory (paid) introductory visit, which was simply a question and answer period about preferences and past experiences. I required each client to give me their employment information, along with family contacts, which helped ensure their compliance. I stopped advertising after the first month, gaining new clients simply through word-of-mouth referrals.

As I said, most of my clients were highly-paid, well connected individuals, as those tended to be the ones who could afford my services. Then there were the special cases, such as the cop who I used to service other clients, the restaurant manager who would comp my meals and the concierge who gave me access to free rooms when I needed. These I always kept close, as they were unable to refuse me anything I desired.

It was the concierge, a blubbering fool I call maggot, who led to the exciting adventure I wish to share with you today. My day didn't start out well. I was working my day job, when maggot phoned me. Though my clients have my number, they are not to call me unless instructed to do so. Since he did not have my permission, I ignored the call and continued with my work.

I was next annoyed by several text messages and email notifications. Growing frustrated I picked up the phone and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring. "What the fuck do you want, maggot?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you Mistress," he gushed, almost sounding breathless. "There is a VIP guest here who is interested in your services. He is willing to pay triple your normal rate if you would be able to make time for him today Mistress."

I hesitated long enough to do some quick calculations. Triple my already inflated rate would put a fair dent into my construction costs. I was intrigued, yet cautious. "And what does he expect for triple my rates?"

"Only to serve you, Mistress, however you see fit." He paused, then continued in a lower voice, "I think, Mistress, you would not be disappointed if you were to at least meet with him."

Something in his tone caught my attention. He was trying, respectfully, to pressure me, which is completely out of character for him. "Is he there with you now, maggot?"

"Yes Mistress." I could tell by his voice he was relieved I caught on.

"A VIP guest, huh? Am I to understand that you mean someone famous, boy? Someone truly worthy of my time and attention"

"Yes Mistress," he answered without explaining more.

"You know I have standards, boy. And I have work to do," I stopped to gather my thoughts. "Alright, if he is interested I want a well written e-mail from him detailing his past experiences and expectations for the meet, as well as age and physical description. If you need to, send it through your e-mail, but I want it in 60 minutes, and you know that really means 45. Then I will consider if I need to re-arrange my schedule or not. Do you understand me, maggot?"

"Yes Mistress, thank you."

"And you know you're going to pay for disturbing me, don't you, fucker?"

"Yes Mistress," he mumbled, clearly not happy. I hung up the phone, disgusted with him, and needing to return to my work.

I was pleasantly surprised to receive an e-mail notification 25 minutes later. I read through the letter, which was shorter than I would have like, but well written. The mysterious HE detailed minimal experience aside from a professional Dominatrix in London and self-experimentation. He claimed to be an athlete, a diver and martial artist, with good stamina and a high pain tolerance, who rarely had to capitulate to others (yes, that's the word he used). He described himself as mid-thirties, short brown hair, average height with a trim and fit physique.

He sounded like just my cup of tea. I don't know many athletes, and so hadn't the faintest clue who this person might be, but I knew what I was going to do with him. I spent the next 15 minutes making phone calls, changing my schedule and making arrangements for the mystery man. After the given 60 minutes had lapsed I call the maggot and told him to bring the mystery man over to my place, and to plan on staying at least 4 hours.

I returned home and quickly readied myself by taking a quick shower and choosing an outfit to wear. Though I was intrigued by this new sub I was still pissed my day had to be rearranged. I decided to let my anger show through my wardrobe. I chose a red silk corset, laced just right so that my nipples were covered but my breasts pushed up and out. Next I chose some black silk stalkings suspended with a black garter connected to the corset, topped with black silk panties.

Last to go on were my favorite pair of boots, black leather which laced tightly to the knee, emphasizing the luscious shape of my calves raised by four inch heels. I completed the look with some heavy eye make-up, pulling my long dark hair into a high pony tail. I slipped a necklace over my head, my master set of keys, which I tucked between my boobs and into the corset. Looking in the mirror I decided I was ready, in more ways than one.

Glancing at the clock I noted they should arrive any minute, and made my way downstairs to prepare for their arrival. Sure enough, when I reached the landing I could hear male voices arguing in the hallway. I locked the door to the stairwell and crept closer, listening.

I could make out the whine of the concierge, "I can't, man, she'll kill me! I'm already in hot water!"

Next came a deeper voice, with an accent I couldn't pick up on through the walls. "I don't care, those are the rules."

I took a deep breath, yanked open the door and reached out. Without really looking at the men facing me I grabbed an ear from each of them and swiftly pulled them into the room, kicking the door shut behind me. Both men were caught off guard and readily followed their ears into the room. I shouted at them, louder than they had ever been, "Fucking disrespectful morons! People live here, they don't want to hear you bellowing in the hallway!"

I still had them by the ears and pulled downward until both men were forced to buckle their knees and slide to the floor. I released their ears and straightened up, turning to grab the first weapon I could locate. My heels clicked on the hard wood floor as a slowly strode back to the kneeling men, a riding crop now firmly in my grasp.

I strode to the new man, lifting his chin forcefully and noticing for the first time that he was wearing a mask over his eyes. "What the fuck is this?!" I turn to look at the maggot, who is trembling, having experienced my anger in the past.

He sobbed, "I'm sorry Mistress!"

I slapped him hard across the face, sending him toppling over on his side. "Fucking pathetic excuse for a man. You disgust me. Don't speak; my ears can't take any more of your insufferable whining."

He continued to lay on the floor, sobbing unashamedly. The mystery man watched this all with interest, but wisely kept his mouth closed. I continued to address the sniveling mass on the floor, "Go to your crate, maggot. And put a gag in on your way. I don't feel like dealing with you right now."

He nodded and crawled to the corner, into a metal cage the size of a large dog crate. This was familiar territory for him. He had brought a gag shaped like a horse bit into the crate and quickly buckled it behind his head. I followed slowly, enjoying the sound of my heels on the floor, before closing and latching the crate door.

I perched my ass on the edge of the crate, trying to regain control of myself. When my temper flares it can quickly get out of control if I am not careful. I glared at the man still kneeling by the door and addressed him, "I hope you're not as cowardly and annoying as he is."

The masked man shook his head, still not speaking. I examined him for a moment and concluded he was just as he said. Mid-thirties, short brown hair, trim body. I could see the muscles in his arms and neck as he knelt. I gathered by his rapid breathing that he was either nervous or excited, but I doubted scared. Time to give him a demonstration.

"Take off your clothes," I ordered, still perched on the crate. He unbuttoned his shirt and spread it wide -- that was all it took for me. My mouth began to salivate staring at his lush, ripped chest and abs. My mouth wasn't the only part of me producing excess fluid, either. I struggled to maintain my composure, glancing down at my nails impatiently rather than staring at him while he disrobed.

He was folding his clothes as he removed them, like a good boy, but I was still pissed. "Jesus Christ, how long does it take to get your clothes off?!" I shouted in exasperation. He was about to remove his boxer briefs but I turned away, not wanting to ogle him openly. I picked up a specially made straight-backed wooden chair and placed it in the center of the room. Next I picked up some restraints before turning back to the man.

"Come here, boy," I ordered, pointing to the chair. He approached, now deliciously naked, and I pushed him face forward onto the chair. He straddled it, hand gripping the back, and examined the cut out at the base of the chair back which would allow me access to his jewels. He had a decent sized cock, a good 6 or 7 inches, with a pair of fat, low hanging balls. What really got to me was his perfect ass; how I longed for my strap-on just looking at it!

I began by kneeling to cuff his ankles, pulling his feet forward and securing them together in front of the chair legs. When I finished I looked up to see him smirking down at me, clearly enjoying the view. I stood up and back-handed him across the face, hard, causing him to bleed slightly from the corner of his mouth. He was clearly not expecting it and let out a groan from behind closed lips. I was excited to see that his hard cock didn't deflate in the slightest, even as he tongued the blood on his lips.

"A pain slut, huh?" I asked, not expecting any response. "We'll see about that."

I stepped to the side now and cuffed each of his hands, pulling them down firmly and connecting them below the seat of the chair, forcing his shoulders back. Next I collared him, attaching that to the chair back, essentially immobilizing him. I stood back, examining my work, and slowly circled him before stopping in front of him.

"So, what's with the mask, pain slut?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders, not opening his mouth, which I found to be extremely rude. I leaned over, placing the toe of my boot onto the chair, nudging his ball sack.

I smiled coyly, flirting. "When you visited the other Mistress in London, I imagine she played your games, right? Giggling about your mask as she played with your little winky?" I tapped his cock with my boot, driving my point home. He nodded, smiling slightly.

"And did she go down on you, or have you go down on her?" Another nod. "And in the end did you have mind blowing sex?" He smiled fully now, still not parting his lips.

I wiped the smile from my face, letting my anger show as I placed my boot over his balls and began to apply pressure. "Well, welcome to MY world. If you think I'm going anywhere near that tiny little dick of yours, or that you have any hope of earning the privilege of pleasuring me, you are mistaken."

His smile was gone and his eyes started to bulge outward from the pain I was causing. I pushed down harder, leaning my weight forward onto that leg. He opened his mouth now, whimpering slightly. "You WILL speak when I ask you to. But before that, you will beg me for mercy."

I pushed all the way forward now, crushing his balls to the point that I wondered about permanent damage. He cried out now, moaning and groaning openly. I pushed him farther. "Beg me, slut. You know the word..." With that I began to twist my foot, this way and that, sensing he was close.

"MERCY!" the word burst from his lips in a deep sexy British growl, but I continued my assault. "Please, God! Have mercy Mistress!" I smiled wickedly, giving one final twist before removing my foot and his mask in the same motion.

I was glad I had taken the time earlier to mentally prepare myself, otherwise I may have gone into school-girl shock when I was finally able to look into his face. Jason Fucking Statham! The man was my every wet dream come true! My heart was pounding and my stomach did flip-flops, but my carefully composed face revealed nothing.

I leaned over to him, speaking quietly, "There now, that wasn't so bad, was it, slut? In the future if you 'capitulate' a little more quickly you might still be able to have children." I strolled away, marveling at this turn of events.

Jason Fucking Sex God Statham! I shot the maggot a wide-eyed look which he understood, giving me a short nod in return. The click of my heels marked my progress back to his cage. He had been watching the whole thing and now looked up at me with pitiful eyes. "Take off your clothes, maggot," I ordered, looking down at him through the cage bars.

This was not his first time in the cage, and he knew what I expected as he quickly removed his clothes and tossed them behind himself. He was on his knees, now naked, shoulders and head hunched over in the tight space.

I spoke to him, stalling as I tried to calm myself. "I imagine as a concierge you are used to getting something in return for a referral like this. A percentage perhaps?" He nodded, unable to answer with the gag. I cocked my eyebrow at his boldness and asked, "Is that what you expect to get from me?" He shook his head strongly in denial, but was unable to elaborate.

I turned back to Jason Fucking Statham and asked him. "Did the two work out a deal for payment?"

Jason Fucking Statham also shook his head in denial, but did not open his mouth to speak. I was growing tired of his games and narrowed my eyes at him, quickly striding back across the room to again place my boot on the seat between his legs. With clenched teeth I asked him, "What was that? I couldn't hear you, slut."

He cleared his throat, clearly nervous by the threat of more ball torture. "No Mistress," he whispered in that oh-so-sexy voice of his. Probably going too far in the opposite of my initial reaction I spat in his face, watching it drip down his cheek and off of his chin. He did not flinch, but rather seemed to enjoy the degradation.

"Don't EVER make me repeat myself again, slut," I warned.

"Yes Mistress," he murmured quietly. The quiet way he said it was not with shame or humility, but more along the lines of intimacy. I longed to grab a fistful of his hair to pull his head back, but his closely shaved hair prevented that.

Instead I leaned over, bringing my face close to his, stroking my hand down the other side of his face. "You look as though you've had your nose broken before. Is that true?"

"Yes Mistress, twice," was his whispered response.

"Let me see your teeth, slut," I ordered, almost as quietly. He was clearly confused by what I was after, but after a moment opened his mouth for me to see a perfect row of pearly whites. I stuck my lower lip out in a pout, "Too pretty. Next time, bring your mouth guard, Mr. Athlete, and I'll get some boxing practice in."

I raised my eyebrow, challenging him, but he gave a small chuckle before responding, "Yes Mistress." I released his collar from the back of the chair, and he arched his back appreciatively. I took that time to slide my hand down his chest, feeling along his hard body, owning him. I curled my hand, scratching him with my claws on my way up, stopping to give one nipple a hard tweak. He moaned without resisting and I felt my jucies once again flooding my damp pussy. I wanted to lick and bite him all over, but resisted the urge.

With a sigh I turned back to the maggot, releasing him from the cage and ordering him to kneel next to Jason Fucking Sex God Statham. I addressed him from over my shoulder, "Take the gag out, maggot, and tell me what exactly you think you deserve for this referral." I had walked over to my wall of toys and was looking at them fondly, trying to make my selection.

I still had the crop in my hand, but I also picked up two sets of nipple clamps and some leather cording. I watched the men's eyes as I returned from my gathering. I gave them all to the maggot to hold, which he did so willingly.

Up to this point the maggot had not answered my question, but squirmed in place on the floor. I grabbed his chin and raised his eyes to meet mine. I growled in frustration. "The two of you disrupt my day, come in here disturbing my neighbors, and have managed to be nothing but disrespectful and insubordinate while wasting my time." I paused to let my anger sink in before slowly continuing. "If I have to repeat myself ONE -- MORE - TIME, I am REALLY going to lose my temper."

He nodded, swallowing hard before speaking. "I'm sorry Mistress. Thank you for seeing us today, we really appreciate it."

I growled again, pushing him away. "Are you just too chicken shit to tell me what you want, is that the problem, maggot?"

He ducked his head, "Yes Mistress."

"Well get over it, fucker. You have 10 seconds to tell me what you want, or I'm going to get the Houdini out again." He trembled at the mention of the chastity device, clearly remembering the last time he wore it for nearly one month.

"I want to 69!" he blurted out quickly. This surprised me. I figured he would want some free sessions, but evidently he just needed to get his rocks off. Too bad he had pissed me off so badly. I smiled at him, "Explain to the pain slut here why that is your choice of payment."

He turned to face Jason Fucking Statham, thinking quickly. "Because when I serve my Mistress I have to earn the privilege to service her, which I don't often do. It is even more rare that she will allow me release, or assist me." He swallowed again, speaking more quietly, "And she has the most amazing mouth you could ever imagine."

I smiled at the last, clearing my throat to gain his attention. "The answer is no." His face fell with my pronouncement, but I continued without acknowledging it. "You may have one choice for payment. My mouth on your cock OR your mouth on my pussy. Pick one."