My Sub Destiny Ch. 02

Mia was embracing our relationship.

If I wanted to masturbate, I always texted her for permission. This had been my idea; my fantasy. Mia was amused by my wish to give her power over my sexuality. I would text, "May I?"

She would text back, "Yes," knowing I was dreaming of her at my moment of ecstasy.

Mia could not picture a sub husband, so she dated other men. Sometimes she'd meet a new man, and tell me to stop texting, which I always did. Then she'd text for a lunch, and we'd pick up again.

She'd moved in with a boyfriend, Bob, and then he became bossy.

Mia was a Flight Attendant, so she was gone for 3 or 4 days, then home for a few days. Bob wanted her to clean the house during her days off; which was reasonable, except that he sort of demanded it. Mia was not naturally Dom, but she absolutely was in no way submissive, and she felt Bob was becoming increasingly domineering.

She didn't feel like cleaning house, or being told to clean house.

But the house did need cleaning.

I became her answer.

She texted, be dressed in my sissy attire, and meet in a nearby parking lot.

She met me, and instructed me to lock my car, and get in hers.

Then we drove to her (and Bob's) house.

We parked in the garage. Mia said nothing as we exited and went inside.

I didn't know what we we walking into. I was wearing only a bra, (stuffed with new, realistic boobies), and thong panties, a cami top, and heels, plus, my face was made up. My penis was a shrunken nub inside my panties. Mia noticed and said, "I like your pee pee small and tiny like that." It sounded foreboding.

"You are going to be my Maid today."

"Start in the Master bedroom. Wash the sheets, the rest of the laundry, and make the bed."

She showed me her make-up area, filled with varieties of make up containers.

"Clean this top, and put all the bottles back in the same place, then clean the rest of the bathroom."

"Work your way out of here to the rest of the first floor. Dust every surface, Vacuum, wash, and dry every floor."

"Vacuum every carpet."

"I'm going to the gym. Text any questions."

Then she walked out.

"Yes Mistress," I mumbled to myself, and went to work.

Cleaning her boyfriend's house; washing his dirty laundry; it was humiliating, and very cuck-ish.

I wondered if Bob could (unexpectedly) show up, but I had no choice, so I banished that thought, and focused on the work.

Six hours passed when I finally heard the garage door opening.

I dashed to an upstairs closet, hoping it was not Bob.

Then I heard Mia in a sing-song voice, "Where's my little slave?"

My heels clacked as I descended the stairs, meeting her at the bottom.

She now wore a short cock-teaser skirt and high heels, accentuating her long tanned legs, and a braless tight top that drew all eyes to her large, hard nipples.

I drank her in, swooned, and then dropped to my knees. She smiled down at me, extended a foot, and I bent and kissed her shoe. "Let's see what kind of job my little maid did for Mistress." It was the first time she'd referred to herself as Mistress. My nub stirred for the first time that day.

She sashayed around the house, surveying my work, as I minced behind. She tapped her toe in a corner for a bit of dirt I'd missed. Still holding a cleaning rag, I bent to clean it and she playfully smacked my ass, "Bad slave!"

We walked to the kitchen, "Are these floors really clean?"

"Yes Mistress," I whispered. Then she spit on the floor and said, "If it's really clean, you won't mind licking that up." I dropped to my knees and licked, realizing she'd had a few drinks.

"Stay," she said, walking away, me still on my knees. She returned naked, holding a vibrator, and crooked a finger, motioning me to follow. I started to stand, and she pointed to the floor, so I followed, crawling on my knees. She sat on the couch.

Placing her feet on the coffee table, she slid her ass forward, spread her legs, and said, "Lick."

Here I was, in her boyfriend's house, licking her pussy, as her vibrator buzzed. With one finger, she eased my head away from her pussy. I looked up and she said, "DANCE."

During our times at my house, she'd forced me to dance for her. It was the first training she demanded of me. She'd made me practice in front of a mirror, and send her videos. It had never occurred to me, but it seemed elementary to her, that all slaves, male or female, must dance for their Owners.

I stood, backed away; slowly and sensuously swayed my hips. As she'd taught me, I tried to be feminine and seductive. I held my arms to my body, then eased my hands along my body, over my breasts, and slowly raised them high over my head. My knees together, subtly and slowly, moving my hips in a tight circular motion, then side to side, making my body, sinuous and feminine.

She watched me, while mindlessly moving the vibrator around her clit, easing downward, then back up to her clit. "That's a good girl. Dance like little slut."

After a few moments, she motioned me back, and again I licked her pussy while she worked the vibrator on her clit.

I felt her hand on my head pressing downward. I licked and probed her anus. Then as she was beginning to come, she pulled my head up to her opening, and said, "Swallow." I placed my mouth fully over her vaginal opening, and her acrid juice gushed into my mouth, and I swallowed.

Then she simply laid down on the couch and began to fall asleep.

I feared Bob would enter any minute.

I shook her and said, "When's Bob due home?"

She replied, "He's out of town," and she went back to sleep.

She'd been drinking, so we were going nowhere that night.

Her cum still wet on my face, I went down to her feet, and kissed, and massaged, and she moaned as she drifted to sleep. Eventually, I fell asleep on the floor beside her.

I awakened with a massive hard-on, barely contained in my panties. I loved masturbating in the mornings. Mia, awake on the couch, noticed my hard-on.

"Take off your panties," then she slid down and straddled me. My hard cock quickly enveloped in her tight, wet pussy; it was ecstatic.

She gently rocked, and I was already feeling my impending orgasm. "Mistress, you're going to make me come."

She made no response, only leaned forward and placed her hands on my (fake) breasts, and said, "Nice."

I could resist no longer, and came deep in her beautiful pussy. She was in no hurry to end the moment, and continued to move until I was completely soft. Then without a word, she moved up over my face, There was a gob of cum at the mouth of her vagina. She lowered, and I licked the gob, and then she placed more weight on my face, and stayed there until I'd swallowed every drop of my cum.

"You like being forced to swallow cum, don't you?"

"Yes Mistress," I replied.

"I have a gay flight attendant friend. He's going to be the first cock you suck."

I knew she meant it. It seemed a natural progression.

"I'll keep practicing on the dildo," I said.

"That's a good girl. Let's go get some breakfast."

She gave me fresh panties, a pair of her girl shorts, and a loose-fitting top.

I still had on the bra and boobies, quite apparent under the top.

She had made no secret about wanting to expose me in public.

This time, mercifully, she allowed me to remove the bra, but still, anyone could tell I was wearing girl clothes.

We went to a nearby small diner with a somewhat private booth, and managed breakfast without me seeing anyone I knew.

Very gradually, Mia had completely embraced our relationship. She didn't identify herself as a "Mistress", but completely embraced me as her willing slave. She dabbled as "Mistress" only to feed my fantasy, which it did. Plus, she was fascinated that I would progressively brainwash myself to become sexually and emotionally bound to her.

Over breakfast she'd said, "I'm thinking I want to move into your house."

I listened.

"We'll tell people we are cousins, so it'll be ok if I want to have a date over.

I'm going to take the Master bedroom; you'll move to the basement. You will still be my slave in every respect. And you will still pay all the bills. I will contribute as I see fit."

I thought for a second. My office was already in the basement. It seemed fitting.

I said, "Yes Mistress. When do you want to move?"

She said, "Now."

She didn't have much stuff at Bob's. (The rest of her furniture and such was stored in her sister's basement). We fit all her stuff in both our cars.

She sent a text to Bob, saying she'd moved out. Fifty ways to leave your lover. My house was perfect for the two of us.

I uniquely had two separate garages, one serving the upstairs, and one serving the basement. My bedroom was below the master, and I'd be able to somewhat hear the goings on in the master bedroom, which she knew.

I volunteered, "I'm going to be able to hear you fucking your boyfriends."

She smiled, "And after they leave, I'm going to have you come upstairs and lick their cum out of my pussy."

She made an addition to my daily sissy attire. I was to purchase electric clippers and keep my hair buzzed to 1/8", and from now on, I'd wear a wig. She had wigs of various lengths. We both thought the shortest wig looked feminine and perky.

She felt safe in my house. Any "boyfriends" would know she had a male cousin in the house, so they'd behave.

In just a few days, a (married) airline pilot spent a layover with her. I could hear them fucking, and I laid in bed, lightly stroking as I listened. Without permission, I knew I would not be allowed an orgasm that night. I listened to the sounds of her mewing and groaning; I was very familiar her sounds when she had an orgasm. In the morning, I heard him fuck her again, then he was on his way.

My phone rang; in a sing song voice she said, "I have a treat for you."

Dressed in a pink bra, boobies, and cami, plus tiny pink thong panties, makeup and wig, I knocked on her door. "Come slave," she said.

I entered and she was propped up with two pillows behind her, and one under her ass. I pulled back the sheet, and her pussy was slathered, and a glob of cum about to drip on the bed. I was her cuck-slave, I bent and licked another man's cum from her. I eased up to her clit, and she wanted more, and she allowed me to fuck her. He had failed to make her come. I lasted without the use of Viagra, making her come twice, as she liked. I asked, "May I come Mistress?"

"Sure," she said.

Still wearing the top of my pink cami, I straddled her, and began jacking off.

She grabbed a bottle of lotion off the nightstand and lubed her finger.

I moved up, and she began teasing my ass, probing until my hole relaxed, and slid her finger in. "Does my little sissy like this?" I could only nod, mouth agape, eyes at half-mast, I rotated on her finger like a slut, stroking my cock.

"Mistress, can I cum?"

She smiled and I blew my load on her breasts.

As I licked her clean, she commented, "I like the feel of your pulsing prostrate.

I bet it'll feel good for James, (her gay friend), when fucks your little ass."

"Yes Mistress," was my reply.

We greatly enjoyed our new life together. I weaved in and out of "slave-mode" comfortably. I always wore thongs, a bra with boobies and a cami, heels, make up and a wig. She became used to seeing me in sissy slave mode. She truly was Mistress of this house.

I shared a fantasy with her. The attic could be a dungeon of sorts.

She had no interest in bondage. Her attitude, from the start, was that I was a willing slave. I explained, I wanted to be bound standing, spread-eagle, with a dildo on a pole, mounted to the floor, and lodged in my ass, so I could move my ass, and literally fuck myself with it. Then with one hand, she'd use a switch on my ass, and with the other hand, stroke my cock. I explained, in that position, I'd give up my deepest, darkest fantasies. Once that was done, her power over me would be consummate. My slavery would be moved to a new level.

She was intrigued.

"You mean there are still things you haven't told me?"

Actually, there weren't. I'd shared it all.

Nonetheless, upon this experience, I'd be (much) further brainwashed.

"Okay," she said, "Prepare the room, and we'll see if there are limits for the brainwashing of a slave."

The attic had a high ceiling with bare rafters. On a ladder, I put eye bolts about ten feet apart, into the rafters, and ran nylon rope thru them. On the bondage ends, I tied neck ties with slip knots. The soft neck ties would not cut into my wrists. The other ends of the rope could be pulled until I was strung up as Mistress saw fit, then easily tied off to grommets that I'd attached to the walls. My feet could be held apart in the same fashion. Once the slip knots tightened on my wrists and ankles, there'd be zero chance of escape.

I took up a little table and a stool.

I laid down thick carpet pad and put a rug over it, so Mistress would be comfy, as she tortured me. Lastly, I cut a short switch from a tree, that could inflict plenty of pain with little effort. I carefully attached a soft realistic dildo to the end of a wooden pole, and mounted a track on the floor, so the other end of the pole could be set at different lengths. I took up lotion, towels, and everything I could think of; all of it on the table, awaiting their use. As I did these tasks, my mouth watered, imagining what might occur.

I couldn't wait for Mia to see the new dungeon.

I opened the door to the attic, and we went up the narrow stairs, and across the plank floor, to the new "training" area. I showed her how the slip knots worked, and how she could pull the ropes, stretching me out, and tie them off on the grommets.

"Ok," she said, "Lets try it out."

She was a quick study, and in moments, I was bound.

As was my normal house outfit, I was wearing thong panties, a bra containing my boobies, a tight cami top with spaghetti straps, and high heels, and wig.

She teased my cock through the panties.

Looking at the table, she asked, "Where are the scissors?"

"I'm sorry Mistress. I didn't bring any up here."

She grabbed the switch, and tapped my ass, increasing until I yelped in pain. Thin, red whip marks were across my ass. My hips rudely humped at thin air.

She went downstairs for scissors, leaving me hanging.

She was gone maybe 15 minutes, finally returning, scissors in one hand and her phone in the other. She snapped a few photos.

She snipped the sides of my panties, and they fell between my legs. She placed the stool beside me. She lubed the dildo and worked it into my ass, working it in to the hilt. She put lotion in one hand, started with my balls, and then my cock. With the other hand, she tapped my ass.

"Now, tell me those dark details. Tell me all your sexy secrets."

I was entranced, rocking myself on the dildo, I began to speak,

"I want to be more feminized. I want to try hormones, and grow my breasts." "I want to wear a bikini, and have a bra tan." "I want you to show me off to other women; make me serve them."

She continued to stroke, and I humped.

"I want to join the local Dom/Sub community, where the men are slaves."

She asked, "Is there such a place?"

"Yes," I replied. "You could make me dance in front of the other women." "They would see my bikini tan, and I would be humiliated in front of them."

Mia spoke, "I will allow all these things to come true."

"Even if I get married, I will keep you as my slave. Who knows? Perhaps you will serve my husband as well!"

She began to loosen the ropes, "Come," she said, "I need you to fuck me."