Mistress Mom Ch. 1 of 2

Why was everything so quiet? There had been lots of noise when I arrived. People talking, laughing, drinking, even playing. Sounds of people getting slapped and giving off the appropriate yelps. Now there was nothing? All the noise had died down? I looked out of the changing room and into the corridor leading into the club proper. The lights were dimmed, but there were still people in there, I could see them standing around. They just weren't ... doing ... anything.

I started walking into the club. For the first few seconds, I held one hand on my junk almost as a reflex, as if trying to hide my shame. Moving past the T-junction leading to the cafeteria, I proceeded towards the big open space in the club, where all the people were gathered. I could now see what they were doing. They were waiting. Standing by the bar or along the walls, just waiting. And they were all looking at me. My heart started pounding. I swallowed nervously.

Near the other end of the room, next to a wall with some kind of rack attached to it, stood Mistress. She was waiting too, for me to come closer. As I slowly approached, still looking around nervously as if expecting the crowd to assault me or something, she held out her hand. Her finger gracefully waved me closer, beckoning me. I tried to straighten up a bit, walking toward her. It was at that point I could see what she was holding in her other hand. It was a collar.

Here I was, completely naked in front of a whole bunch of people, walking toward Mistress Anne. As I came closer, she started smiling. I couldn't see most of her face behind that mask, but I got the distinct impression that her eyes were glowing.

"Kneel." she said in the same calm voice as I came up to her.

I sat down on my knees and looked up at her dominating figure, feeling small before her experienced presence. She held out the collar. It was made in thick black leather, maybe about an inch wide, and had a steel ring attached to the front.

"Are you ready to serve me as my submissive?" she said, a bit louder so people could hear.

"Yes, Mistress." I replied, still determined that this was what I wanted.

"Do you wish to wear this collar as a sign that you are my submissive?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She leaned over me. I could feel the leather getting wrapped around my neck. Taking her time, she fastened the buckle at the back and secured it in place, making sure that it wasn't too tight for comfort. Then she stood up again.

"Everyone... I'd like to present my new sub." she told the waiting crowd.

There was applause. Loud applause. People cheered and whistled as she helped me to my feet.

"Well done. That was fun." she said, giving me a radiant smile.

I nodded eagerly. She was right. It was weird... and a bit scary... but also: fun. I'd read about collaring ceremonies but never seen one, let alone taken part. The people in the room had clearly been informed about what was going on, and joined in. What a nice gang, I thought.

"Tell me something..." she said as she led me through the room, past all the spectators. "How high is your pulse right now?"

"Uhh... high. Like... 160." I said, smiling at how well she knew me.

"Good. That's the way I like it. Now, seeing as you're already naked... back on the cross with you."

We arrived at the end of the room and she placed me up against the wall, put the cuffs on my wrists and locked me up on the cross once again.

There I was to stand, receiving a beating from my new mistress, while everybody watched as she whipped my naked body. Every time I moved, there was a gentle jingling noise as the steel ring on my new collar dangled from side to side. I'd only been wearing this thing for three minutes, and I already loved that sound.

She spent a whole hour with me. This time, she started out by using a soft flogger to whip my skin up and down. Up and down from knees to shoulders, going gently at first and then increasing over time. It was a strange feeling: only slightly painful, not too bad, giving me a feeling of warmth all over my skin. As she started hitting me harder, I had gotten used to the feeling and didn't really notice. I could hear the whooshing sound of the whip flying through the air and felt the sting of the impacts on my back, but the hits landed so quickly with so little time in between that everything just felt like a continuous swipe against my skin.

I started to relax. Standing there, up against the cross, being whipped in public by my new mistress... it actually felt good. The jingling of the collar ring still tickled my ears, making me smile. Then I heard her voice. Giggling. Laughing. The sound of her enjoyment made me tingle inside, and I kept taking deep breaths, enjoying the sound of the little laughs she made whenever I twitched or squirmed.

Eventually, she started using a paddle instead, smacking it against my most thick-skinned areas while snickering even more loudly at my responses. Later, she used a variety of tools to pinch, slap and spank me, enjoying herself immensely with the things she was being allowed to do to me. I loved it. It was like she said earlier: the pain was bearable, and not really what did it for me. The thing I liked the most was feeling how much she was enjoying herself.

The mixture of pleasure and pain grew and grew until I couldn't feel anything else. It was like I was outside myself, immersed in a feeling of bliss and drunkenness. That's what it felt like. As if I were on my way to getting drunk, even though I hadn't been drinking at all. As she ended our session on the cross, I felt like I was floating.

"Feeling all right?" she said happily as she finally let me down.

"Mmmmmhmm..." I mumbled, still feeling a bit high.

"Come... let's unwind..."

We went over to a couch and sat down for a while. I felt drowsy, yet excited. Sleepy, yet turned on. My clothes were suddenly back on, and I couldn't even remember having put them on. We drank some soda and chatted, but I wasn't really paying attention to the conversation. Eventually, Mistress looked carefully at me. Then she smiled.

"Blissed out?"

"Mhm..."

"Like... like you're drunk, or in space... or...?"

"Yeah... it's so... nice..."

"Subspace..."

"Mmh? That's the thing...?"

"Yes, people call it that... looks like that's where you've just been. Wonderful... so unusual for new subs to immerse themselves in the play so quickly... Looks like you're about to come out of it now..."

She was right. I had been shaking my head a little, and my vision was returning from the state of a blurry fog to being able to see my drinking glass clearly.

"When you get home, let me know if you're dropping." she said.

"Dropping?"

"Yes, that's when ... well, how to explain it... It's a negative feeling people sometimes get after having been on a real high during an intense session. It varies; some people feel very depressed, others hardly notice anything. If it happens, it's usually a day or two after. So if you're starting to get any sort of really dark feelings of worthlessness or something, give me a call. It usually helps to talk about it."

"Thank you, Mistress, that's very considerate of you.", I said, deciding to go online and read up on this thing called 'drop' when I got home.

As it happened, I didn't drop. Over the next couple of days, I felt awesome. Well, in spirit, at least. My body was pretty beaten up. Bruises and scratches everywhere, I looked like I'd run through a thorny bush, then rolled down a ravine. I skipped swimming and going to the gym for a few days, to avoid getting embarrassing questions from my study buddies. Inside, though... I just felt awesome. Like my life was on its way upwards to a place of amazing opportunities. This BDSM thing had already turned out to be a success, and as far as I could feel, it was only going to get better.

PART THREE: UPS AND DOWNS

Over the next several weeks, my mistress and I visited the club at least a dozen times. Over time, she experimented with more impact play, trying to find out how hard she could hit me and where. She easily picked up on the signals I gave off, reading my body language and interpreting my noises more and more accurately. As she explained, she was working out exactly what she could do to me... and I loved letting her do it.

I loved seeing and feeling how much she enjoyed herself during our sessions. I loved seeing how she looked when we were meeting up, practically glowing with excitement when I became dumbstruck at the sight of her awesome outfits. I loved hearing her giggle when I squirmed and yelped at her treatment. I loved wearing my collar when I was with her, so everyone could see that I belonged to her - so that everyone could see that this amazing mistress was my mistress.

I also met some nice people at the club during our breaks, and some of them really made me think about BDSM relationships. For instance, there was a cute couple who had surprised me at first; the guy was in his forties and built like a brick house, but he was the sub in the relationship. It almost looked a bit weird, seeing this muscly, 7" tall guy kneeling humbly before a five-foot-nothing girl in her twenties, but they also seemed really happy together. Watching one of their play sessions really reminded me of how much of this dynamic is voluntary; that guy could have snapped her neck without breaking a sweat, yet he was being whipped and humiliated as he was worshipping her feet.

As we talked during a break, it also struck me how similar our mindsets were. I too wanted to be dominated. I too could easily have overpowered my domme, had I wanted to. I too got my kick out of seeing how much pleasure my domme got out of being allowed to do things to me. It was really nice to see that I was not alone in thinking this way. As I was being informed, it was not even that rare.

I also started using more of the club's facilities. I watched other people's sessions; rope suspensions, bondage, whipping... Sometimes I would simply hang out and enjoy watching things ... like that time a naked girl was being commanded to serve people drinks with her hands tied behind her back. It was fun. Fun and games. I was starting to feel at home.

Mistress also started messing with my brain some more. She would send me images of new implements, leaving me to ponder what it was going to be used for and how, until I got so nervous I could hardly think straight. It could be something simple like a photo of a clamp, a pinwheel or some rope... or it could be something I didn't understand what was, and then I would be left to fantasize about what it could be, and how it was to be used on me. The anticipation was incredibly exciting.

Then came the time when she broke me.

It started out as a fairly normal club session. She whipped my backside for a while, then had me crawl around naked on the floor. She had me on a lead like a dog being walked by its owner. Then she dressed me up in a maid's outfit - which felt pretty humiliating - and commanded me to fetch drinks for her and her friends. I was made to kneel by her side as she chatted with some other women, and she constantly called me degrading and humiliating names, right in front of everybody. Whenever I wasn't quick enough or subservient enough for her, she would lash out with her riding crop, whipping me across my naked skin - my arms, legs, back... It was a strong stinging feeling, and I hurt everywhere.

It lasted all evening. I loved the feeling of being placed in such a subservient position, and I eagerly obeyed all her commands... but without really noticing, my body and my willpower were beginning to break down. In the end, she had me kneeling before her and chastised me for having done something incorrectly.

"You lowly slave! You're not even worthy of licking my boot. You're going to anyway, though. Here, put that useless mouth of yours to use."

She lifted her foot up to my face. I sat there on my knees, looking at it. My heart was pounding. My body had already been pushed so far... my skin was burning all over from the lashes she had administered to my butt, my back, my thighs, belly, arms, neck... The choking, the slapping, the pinching... All night, I'd been screaming, begging, moving quickly to do her bidding, so much had been happening that my body was getting exhausted. Then there was my mind - that too was on its last legs, having been pushed through hours of intense play, dealing with the humiliation and the desire to please all at once.

I looked up. She was towering over me, ready to slap me across the face again. Her commands had been getting more and more demanding, more and more challenging... and now there was this. I felt my chest tighten. I couldn't breathe. In the middle of this chaos of emotion, I realized that I had been pushed to the brink. And we weren't done. There was still more. Another command to obey. Another thing to do, to please Mistress, even though I didn't want to do it. One more ... disgusting... humiliating thing. My breathing was getting faster and faster as I started to hyperventilate. I heard people laughing and my brain assumed they were laughing at me. I looked at the boot, then up at her again, and I realized: I couldn't do this.

"Redactive."

Suddenly, she was there, on the floor, right next to me.

"Are you all right?" she asked in the mildest voice.

"Yes... yeah..." I breathed quickly, still hyperventilating, feeling like I might pass out any second. "I... I just..."

"There's no hurry. The play is stopped. Take your time. Breathe. Deep breaths. Breeeaaathe..."

I drew my breath deeply and tried to calm down. I was shivering, my body was chock full of adrenaline. When I tried to speak, even the words didn't come out steadily, but in a complete jumble. I felt confused, like I couldn't understand why I wasn't able to speak properly.

"Woah... hooof... the hell? Th... that was..."

She held my hand.

"Was there something wrong? Do you hurt somewhere?"

"Uh... no... wha...? I just ... felt like... I'm sorry... the fuck... waaa... my head is... sorry... I'm just not ... woah... not quite ready ... for ... that."

"That's fine." she said with a reassuring smile.

"Sorry..."

"Don't be sorry." She held me in both hands and looked at me. "Don't feel ashamed. You did the right thing. You did exactly what you're supposed to do - you told me that there was an issue and that we should stop for a minute. You haven't ruined anything. This is good."

I cracked a smile with my shivering lips.

"M-maybe I can t-try again ... l-later..."

"If you're feeling up to it, we can try again some other time. We'll leave it for now, no problem. Let's go and take a break. And something to drink."

She helped me change back to my shirt and trousers, then we left the play area and went into the cafeteria, away from the scenes of rough play and into a safe zone of coffee and muffins.

"Greg? Some tea, please? And cookies." she said to the owner, who quickly nodded and started fixing us refreshments.

I sat down by the table with her beside me. She didn't leave my side for a minute.

"I gotta say... I hadn't thought..." I mumbled.

She waited patiently. I was actually drying tears out of my eyes, gasping intermittently for air as I did so. My body had really reacted to this whole thing - my whole system seemed to be going haywire. I was also a bit confused as to why I wasn't able to form coherent sentences.

"Woah... I guessed ... I was probably going to use the stop word at some point... 'cause... that's normal, right?"

"Yes, completely."

"I just thought ... it would be on something physical. Too much pain or..."

"BDSM can be very tough emotionally."

"But... it was j-just a ... b-boot! Just ... lick a boot... what's hard about that? I should've..."

She put her arm around my shoulder.

"Hey. Don't beat yourself up. It's the cumulative load on the body and mind that can get you sometimes. We're treading on a knife edge, pushing ourselves to the brink of what our emotions can handle. You did really well, identifying the stop point right in the middle of that. Sometimes, subs get as carried away as the doms, and before they know it, they've crossed their own limits. That can be bad if they didn't really want to."

The owner came over with two large cups of hot tea and a plate of chocolate-chip cookies.

"You OK, kid?"

I nodded.

"It's all right." Mistress responded for me. "Bit of a safe word situation. But he's strong, just needs a minute to catch his breath."

"Well, you're in the best of hands." he said and gave us both a smile before returning to his duties behind the counter.

"Does this kind of thing happen here often?" I asked, sipping my hot, refreshing tea.

"Yes, actually. It's hard to notice sometimes, but it happens pretty much every time there's an event. Safe words are just the sub's way of saying they want a break, you know. Some subs use it regularly, others push themselves a bit more."

"Did I ... push ... too hard, you think?"

"Hard to say. You did take it all the way to shivering and crying..." I wiped my eye again, as if it was still tearing up. "... but on the other hand, you maintained your composure and called your own stopping point. I've seen subs go so far they actually black out."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I'd prefer if you didn't do that. Okay?" she joked and smiled at me.

I nursed my warm cup in my hands and thought about why I'd had to call the session. Thinking about it now, licking her boot didn't seem so hard. Looking down at her leather boots, I was half a mind to bend down and complete the task right now.

"I didn't know boot licking was my 'limit'..." I said.

"Maybe it isn't. Like I said: cumulative load. You've taken a lot of punishment today. That was... what... a whole hour of flogging? Not to mention all the other stuff I've done to you, including verbal abuse, pinching and humiliation. I really went to town on you. Eventually, a guy just needs a break."

"Is that..."

"Hmmm?"

"Was that ... uh... I'm not sure how to put it... ehm... Did you... go all out... there?"

"You mean - was that the roughest I can be?"

"Yeah..."

"No."

"Oh..."

I was still reeling from her onslaught, and apparently, she could go even further. I couldn't imagine how that might be, or if I could ever be part of something like that. Mistress Anne at her maximum might be too much for me to ever be able to handle.

"I can keep going for hours. And be even rougher, both in terms of how hard I hit... and how hard I talk. The trick is to find the sub's limit ... move up close to it... but not go past it. Take breaks when he's getting tired or worn out, then continue later. That's where I failed just now - I didn't spot that you were approaching a tipping point. Remember the talk we had? I can't read your mind. Your way to tell me that you've had enough is to do what you just did."

"I'm still a bit embarrassed that it was because of something as simple as a boot ..."

She leaned in close to me.

"Look at me and listen closely, because I really mean this: I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Mistress." I said, and managed to smile.

"I meant what I said to Greg - you are strong. Some subs hesitate to call halt to a session. Especially in settings like these, where they feel like the scene, the people around them... that everybody expects them to carry on. Some of them feel like ... they feel like they've ruined the session if they use their safe word. The thing to remember at that point is: it doesn't have to stop everything, it could just be a quick break. And even if stopping means ending the whole session ... there will be other sessions."

"Yeah, that's true..."