What Women Want; What Women Need 05

I cleared a space on the coffee table and sat on it facing Roger, our knees about five inches apart. I had him lean back on the couch and I lifted each of my legs up and used the toes from each foot to stroke and tease his nipples. Over and over I did this. I gave him permission to groan. And he did repeatedly. He loved it. He was already acquiring a mild foot fetish.

To put the icing on the cake, I had Roger take the camphor oil and rub it into the pads underneath each of my ten toes. I kept my heels resting on his chest, moving with slow back-and-forth motions, so the camphor could dry. I told Roger to sniff the tip of the bottle of the camphor oil for about a minute. He had trouble focusing on the task, what with his hard-on depriving his brain of blood, the aphrodisiacal effects of the camphor taking hold, and his being nipple-teased.

When my toes were dry, I had Roger suck on each for a minimum five minutes apiece. Throughout I kept reaffirming his efforts and telling him how much he turned me on. (I was lying, of course. I was about as wet as the Mojave.) Finally I faked a loud and physically draining orgasm as the result of his sucking my toes. Soon I faked another. And then a third. And the fool bought it.

Roger, Continuation of Diary Entry, Wednesday, September 18:

Marti had me polish her toenails. You have to be careful, of course, but it's not nearly as tedious as shaving a woman's legs. When I was done she used her toes to massage my nipples. That actually felt pretty good. But if that harridan thinks she can somehow control me through some nipple play, well she's got a lot to learn.

"Control" isn't the right word in any event. There's no way she can make me do anything I don't wish to do. Anything I've done with her so far is out of curiosity, nothing compelled. And that's how it will remain.

Marti then had me suck her toes. This was not a turn on for me at all. But the feet were clean and didn't smell, so it was no hardship either, more like a playful thing. But then something funny occurred: my suckling Marti's toes turned her on. She actually orgasmed. Believe me, it was real: I can tell when a woman is faking. And though she had been a real bitch so far, in terms of flogging me, I found it gratifying to know that I was bringing her pleasure. And that in turn brought me to a very satisfying state; not sexual, nothing like that, but still a nice warm feeling. I certainly won't mind doing that again.

Marti, Continuation of Diary Entry, Wednesday, September 18:

I asked Roger if he would like to place the garter belt and stockings on me, or if he would like to watch me do it myself. (Old salesman's trick: don't ask if the customer wants a Chevy but inquire instead whether he wants it in yellow or grey.) I figured he'd want to do it himself, especially after I advised that since I would remove my skirt and panty for the procedure, I would allow him to look at my pussy - not for very long, maybe four or five minutes.

I must say that for someone who had never before put on a woman's hosiery Roger did just fine. He was firm but gentle. This led me to conclude that he was going to be easier to subjugate than I originally thought. When he was done I had him put my pumps back on, and I stood there.

I posed, giving him a stern look, and told him he could look at my face and pussy for a while. I stated: "I think it flatters a woman's appearance for her to wear garter belt and stockings but no panties. The result frames the pussy to great effect and with the blue of the belt and stockings surrounding and contrasting the strawberry blonde landing strip that adorns my sweet, sweet pussy, it really is a turn-on for most men. Do you agree? You may respond verbally."

Only gibberish came from Roger's feverish lips, but he seemed to be in accord.

"Roger, I am going to let you venerate my toes some more while they're in my open-toed shoes," I told him. "I think you'll really like the sensation of sucking my toes through the stockings. But, look, you don't have to suck my toes again if you don't want. I know I would like it. And God knows you need practice.

"Now, if you do this for me, if you satisfy me again, then we'll see what we can do about your desire to caress and kiss and fondle my legs and pussy." Note that Roger had never actually said he wanted to do those things. But I wanted to plant that notion in his pitiful little brain. (When he was in the kitchen I picked up his pants and noted two or three condoms in his back pocket: I'm sure at this point the idiot was entertaining the delusion that he was going to fuck me.)

"Look," I continued, attempting to sound genuinely sympathetic to his plight, "you have tried hard tonight, and it is your very first time, but you broke the rules nine times in all. And when you first began suckling my toes I could tell you weren't into it very much. Such behaviors and attitudes just aren't acceptable. So it's very doubtful whether I'll let you minister to my holy of holies or even my legs. But first let's see how you do in bringing me off by sucking my little toesies, O.K.?"

He nodded yes.

"Oh, and Roger, your ability to provide me with multiple orgasms will depend on your looking deep into my eyes as you suck and lick. And while you're worshipping my feet, you can also gaze at my sweet, sweet pussy if you want. Are you O.K. with that, too?"

Again he nodded yes, very emphatically.

"You can tell me verbally, baby," I told him. "Let me hear that you want to suck my toes and caress and fondle and kiss my sexy legs, and that you want to taste my sweet, sweet pussy."

"I do," he blurted.

"You do what?" I was insistent.

"I want to suck your toes and pussy. I want to bring you off."

"Do you want to caress and fondle my smooth sexy legs? If so, tell me."

"I want to caress and fondle your sexy legs," Roger blurted out.

"And will you adore my beautiful legs?" I insisted.

"Yes, yes, I do. I want to worship your legs."

"For how long?" I asked. I had noticed that his stiff little prick was now the color of an eggplant.

"As long as you let me, forever, always" he screamed, sweat pouring down his forehead.

"Oh Roger, you are my sweet little boy. Now tell me more. Will you suck my sweet, sweet pussy, and tongue my clit, and get me off, and if I allow it will you cum under the control of my sweet throbbing pussy? Always?"

"Yes, yes, I will be controlled by your pussy. Please, please, let me have your sweet sexy pussy. Forever." Roger was screeching.

"Roger, stand up and turn around with your back facing me," I told him. I took the riding crop and - WHAM!! - WHAM!! - I struck him twice on the ass, very hard. "Roger, this is for raising your voice to me just now. I understand you are frantic because you fear I may terminate your training, but you simply may not disrespect me in this way.

"In addition," I continued, "your recent outburst was way over the line; you were begging. So," I continued, "these are for you two." And - WHAM!! - WHAM!! - I struck him twice more on his ass.

Well, he couldn't very easily apply the hand sanitizer to his own ass, so I had him bring me the dispenser and did the job. After I did this, intensifying his pain, I put wrapped my arms around his chest and diddled both nipples with my hands. Pleasure and pain; pleasure and pain; constantly mix up the sensations for a slave-in-training.

"O.K., that's enough," I responded. "You may have another go at my toes. On your knees; we don't want blood from your ass on the carpeting. But first I will get some wine for us."

We each had a glass. I had Roger put three or four drops of the camphor oil in his wine before drinking.

I gave him a new instruction. He would need one hand to take either of my feet into his mouth to be suckled. But with his other hand I wanted him to diddle one of his nipples and then the other, back and forth. He did not question this detail.

He tried hard over the next 90 minutes. I think he was really into it. But I didn't come. He grew anxious because a lot rode on his ability to get me off. But obviously that wasn't going to happen. And of course Roger didn't come; it just wasn't possible with ring restraining his cock. I told him that the only way he would ever be able to come would be if he went down on me, savoring my sweet, sweet pussy. Of course that was never going to happen. And I told him that he would never, ever, be permitted to fuck me.

When Roger finished with his toe sucking I told him of my extreme disappointment that he'd failed to get me to come. I explained that I was frustrated by his incompetence and would end the session.

I said I had considered his situation and decided it would probably be best to discontinue our situation; that I just didn't think he could make it as my slave. But, I told him, if he wanted he could return for one final effort on Thursday night. It would be up to him.

Subdued, Roger said he wanted to try again.

"Slave, effort does count for a lot. I'll allow you to return Thursday evening," I told him. "Look," I continued, "you did try hard and I want to keep an open mind so I will allow you a small reward. You may sleep at the foot of my bed tonight, wearing pants. I don't want you getting blood on my bedding. You will be naked above the waist, in case I want to tease your nipples. You may not touch me unless I direct you to and then only to suck my toes. You may look at me; generally I sleep naked. You will leave no later than 7:30 tomorrow morning. If I'm asleep then, you will not awaken me.

"One last thing: come here so I can remove your cock ring. Once I've done this, immediately go pee and return to me so I can place it back on you. For the immediate future you will always wear the cock ring when with me."

I removed the ring, and he went off to relieve himself. Then I replaced it. In order to do so, I had to excite him so it would lock into place. I did this by gently tickling the underside of his cock with my fingers and licking his right nipple with my tongue. How easy it is to manipulate men sexually.

We then went to bed, with me inside the covers and him sleeping at the foot like a dog might. (Apt comparison, if you ask me, though dogs usually take longer to train.) When I was in bed, I surprised him with an unexpected further reward: my panties. I told him he could sniff them until he drifted off to sleep.

Roger Continuation of Diary Entry, Wednesday, September 18:

As I look back on our initial encounter, I acknowledge I got much more than I had bargained for. I'll give Marti this, she was very compelling. Sure I appeared to cooperate, though I was really just fooling her. The things she had me do were interesting and not repulsive as you might expect, but I don't think I was actually sexually aroused. Well, at least not very much: I never was close to cumming. I do not need foot or leg or pussy worship in my life, and whatever she's made me do hasn't actually excited me. I will be going back Thursday night and expect that things will progress to meet my agenda. I will fuck that bitch. Hard and rough. Then we'll see who's in control.

Marti, Diary Entry, Friday, September 20:

Roger came last night for his second session. I was dressed exactly as on Tuesday, except my eye shadow, garter belt, stockings and open-toe shoes were green. And my earrings were iridescent green and silver, changing from green to silver hues and back again.

I got right down to business, reapplying the cock ring to his compliant dick, and beginning with him worshipping legs.

I felt that with his body already abused, and his desires already somewhat swayed, I would make a sudden effort, entirely unanticipated by him, to control his mind: "You may continue to look at my wonderful breasts if you wish, but you may not look into my eyes without first looking at my earrings. And you must tell me when you are ready to gaze at my earrings." I added that I would set an alarm for 90 minutes, at which point our session would have to stop. If he couldn't get me to cum by then, his time would be up. Permanently.

"After all, you were only an experiment. If tonight doesn't work out, it will be time to cut my losses," I concluded.

I directed Roger to remove my shoes and worship my feet and legs up my thighs to one inch above where the stockings ended. He wouldn't be allowed to touch me above the waste; or to lick, touch or even sniff my pussy though he could view it. Everything else below my triangle was fair game.

I explained the goal for the night: "If I like the job you do on my legs, if a have multiple orgasms, I may allow you to eat my pussy."

Suitably incentivized, Roger eagerly did my bidding. He was excited by my calves and then especially carried away as he got higher and higher up my thighs. As he got tantalizingly closer to my pussy, he was increasingly agitated, and I had to admonish him not to sniff my sex.

Roger got really frantic on my thighs. Then, as instructed, he asked if he could look at my earrings. I yes, but only on condition he would listen to my instructions as he did this.

I told him to start by picking a single earring, concentrating on it alone, and to especially notice the colors. "See how they change color from silver to green and from green to silver, and then back again, over and over," I intoned in a tranquil and soothing voice. "Most people find this very calming," I told him. "I want you to focus on the colors as they go back and forth, back and forth," - here I slowed down my cadence - "back and forth again, and do not stop contemplating the earring. It should be very relaxing." My seductive voice got even slower and softer. "Tell me if this makes you so calm you so much as you concentrate that your eyes are getting heavy."

"Yes," he answered, subdued.

"It looks like you're becoming sleepy, your head is getting very heavy, and you want to rest it on my stomach while continuing to look at my sparkling earring. Is that how you feel?" I asked.

"Yes," he again answered sotto voce.

"Then do so, rest your head," I instructed him. "Gently." And he did. "You seem to be very weary now, very tired," I continued. "I can tell you are having great difficulty keep your eyes open now. You are looking at my exquisite earring, changing colors back and forth. Back and forth. But it's now almost impossible to stay awake, isn't it?

He nodded.

"You want to close your eyes since you cannot keep them open. It's O.K., Roger. Close your eyes. Rest."

I lowered my voice to a peaceful, measured whisper and continued: "You are in a trance now, half asleep, but you hear everything I say, and understand you must obey me. You look like you love the wonderful warm feeling that has swept over you now. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"Roger, I think you realize that you cannot function as a man with me, that I have no interest in that puny dick between your legs. You must submit to me in all things. You want to give in fully to me. Do you understand?" I asked.

"Yes," came out Roger's quiet whisper.

"Do you realize that you will be my slave and never allowed to fuck me or anyone else ever again."

Silence. "Answer me, slave, or I will dismiss you."

"Don't make me leave me, please, I will obey," came his barely audible reply.

"And do you understand that you need the guidance and discipline I provide. The punishment I will inflict when you misbehave. Tell me if that's how you feel, if that is what you want," I intoned.

"Yes, yes," Roger answered with increasing intensity.

"Then you will completely submit yourself to me. Tell your Mistress Marti if you understand."

"Yes, I do," came his answer.

"And to whom will you surrender yourself, slave?" I asked.

"To you," Roger responded.

"And who am I?" I asked. "Tell your Mistress Marti," I commanded.

"You are my Mistress Marti," came his reply.

"O.K., now listen carefully. When I say the words 'Awake, slave,' you will come to. You won't know that you were in a trance. You will remember worshipping my feet and legs but realize that you failed - you couldn't get me to cum. You will beg me for another chance.

"Regardless of the situation, you'll always be fully under my control. Whenever I utter the phrase 'Pastel Peppermint Bicycle' you will go into another trance, deeper than this one, fully asleep but you'll still be able to hear me. Now when you come out of this trance if I recite the phrase, 'Buy Hungarian War Bonds' you will ask for permission to call me 'Mistress.' Remember always to raise your hand first to ask for permission to speak," I concluded.

I then brought Roger out with the trigger phrase.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Roger," I stated. "I don't think your heart is in this. I doubt whether you can satisfy me. Perhaps we should end this process now and save us both wasted time. Just call it quits and go our separate ways. What do you think? You may answer me. Buy Hungarian War Bonds."

"Please, please," Roger wailed. "Don't give up on me. May I call you 'Mistress'?" he asked. "That will show my respect and dedication. And I will try much, much harder. I need you to lead me. I will work hard to be a perfect slave. Don't discard me."

"I just don't know, Roger," I answered. "You're not a dumb guy. What I require of you is not that difficult. Seems to me that despite what you say you're not trying hard enough."

"I will, I will. Really. I'll do anything you say." He was on his knees, slobbering on my calves.

"Here's what I agree to. You will come back tomorrow night, for one more chance. As for calling me Mistress, yes you may, but only in this apartment or yours. In either home you will be my slave. But in public, or when anyone else is around we will act as if you're my boyfriend. But obviously if I discontinue your training tomorrow that showing of respect will end. When we're alone I will call you 'slave.' Pastel Peppermint Bicycle."

Roger fell into a deeper trance than earlier. I instructed him that he'd nothing that transpired this evening. I told him that he should come the next night, bringing his diary and all personal papers. I told him producing these would be his idea. I directed his continuing fascination with my feet.

I explained to Roger that he would get to taste my pussy the next night because he would become my human urinal. I told him that my pissing into his mouth would be the only oral contact he would ever have with my sweet, sweet pussy, and that each time it happened he would relish being my slave even more. I directed him to begin fantasizing about how much he would enjoy being demeaned in that way. And so I awakened him with the appropriate trigger.

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After Thursday evening, Marti had completed the first phase of slave training. Marti was pleased with how well it went. Roger came daily and in his remaining visits his mind was given over completely to Marti's direction. Soon he no longer needed triggers to put him under. She had trained him to be submissive to in all things at all times he was with her.

Roger, Diary Entry, Friday, September 20:

I will surprise Mistress Marti tonight with this diary and my financial papers. I think it is important that knows all about me so I can convince her to accept me as her slave. I hope she will be impressed by this initiative. I will continue to make entries in the diary, for her to view at any time.

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Marti had Roger read literature extolling how hetero males achieved happiness when enslaved. She taught him the proper protocols for addressing her and writing about his service to her.