The ping of your message alerts me to your arrival. I am in the foyer by the time you reach my front door. A glance at the clock confirms you are precisely on time, not that I had any doubts. The importance of today has been palpable in our recent messages. I open the door, and there you are, standing with a mixture of anticipation and nervous energy. You step inside, and the door closes behind you, sealing us off from the outside world.
Our normal greeting of two new lovers is eschewed for stricter protocol today. Today, you are moving towards the role that I have been considering you for—my submissive, my pet, and, depending on the task or day, my slut.
“Put this on,” I state without emotion. Today is about stripping you down and starting from the basics of submission. It is about teaching and molding you into my perfect pet. I hand you the hood, black cloth with a string, which once over, I will tie up. You take the hood from my hands, your movements careful and deliberate. As you pull it over your head, I can see the shift in your demeanor. The hood takes away your sight, heightening your other senses, making you more aware of every sound, every touch, every command.
I love using the hood right from the start; it reveals any anxieties, any issues with trust. The possibility that we are not at the right stage to move forward begins with this one act. As you pull the black cloth over your head, your breathing becomes shallow, and I can sense the shift in your energy.
With the hood securely tied, I guide you down the hall and to another door. This one leads to the basement, to my play area, a place where you will come to both enjoy and fear. As I open the door, I say, “There are many steps down. The railing is to your right.”
I take your left hand in mine and guide you down the stairs. Your steps are tentative, each one careful as you adjust to the loss of your sight and the heightened reliance on my guidance. The descent feels long, each step echoing in the confined space.
At the bottom of the stairs, I lead you a few more feet to the door of my playroom. I stop and tell you to kneel to the right of the door. I watch as you kneel, albeit awkwardly without being able to see, the disorientation clear in your movements.
“Good,” I murmur, satisfied with your obedience. I take a moment to admire your submission. Before opening the door, I give you one simple command: “Stay.”
I enter the room and feel the familiar energy in the space. I have spent countless hours here, enjoying encounters that would fill many books. The decor has been chosen piece by piece to create a den of pleasure and pain, one that is both pleasing to the eyes and the bodies that sweat, cry, and plead for more.
The walls are adorned with various implements of discipline, each meticulously placed. The soft glow of the ambient lighting casts shadows that dance across the room, enhancing the atmosphere. The leather furniture, the polished wood, the strategically placed mirrors—all of it designed to heighten every sensation, every emotion.
I walk to the one wall and select my implement for today—a red leather crop. Perfect for your inspection. I take a seat in a wide, plush leather chair and, with it, take out my phone. I proceed to catch up on work emails while you kneel, waiting outside the door.
I glance down to see that twenty-seven minutes have gone by. I know this to be an agonizingly long time on one's knees, especially if untrained to do so. Luckily for you, there is carpet in the hallway, unlike in here.
“Come,” I finally call out, my voice firm but inviting.
I listen as you rise and cautiously enter, guided by the sound of my voice. The hood still obscures your vision, adding to your disorientation and heightening your other senses. You pause just inside the threshold, awaiting further instructions.
“Close the door behind you,” I command. You obey, the soft click of the door closing behind you echoing in the room. I rise to meet you in the middle of the room and turn you towards the chair I was sitting in.
“Good. Now, strip,” I instruct, and I hear your sharp intake. I walk around you, taking in the sight of you, watching the way you hesitate just for that split second before your hands find the buttons of your shirt. It falls to the floor, and is met with trousers, briefs, belt and finally your socks.
I reach out and gently stroke your cheek through the hood. “Are you ready to begin?”
“Yes, Miss M,” you reply, your voice steady despite the uncertainty.
“Then let’s begin,” I say, satisfied.
The silence in the room amplifies every sound, every rustle of fabric, every breath you take. I don’t say a word as I start circling you, the click of my heels the only sound I make. I purposely circle around and around, and with the softest of touches, the crop draws patterns on your skin. I run the crop up the inside of your thigh, just stopping before it touches your sac. I draw a line across your shoulders and then proceed to run the crop ever so lightly down the small of your back, eliciting little goosebumps to erupt.
I continue my calculated strokes with the crop, tracing the inside of your arm, then the back of your knee. Finally, I give one of your hard nipples the tiniest of flicks. Your moan escapes before I can flick the other.
I giggle at your reaction, as now I know you are desiring this inspection and enjoying it just like I knew you would. “How does it feel to be so exposed and vulnerable right now?” I ask slowly, drawing out the words "exposed" and "vulnerable" to emphasize them.
You breathe in and seem to think, holding your breath before sharing your answer. "Miss M, this is all new, and I will admit I am very nervous and feeling exposed for certain."
“Well, this is all new to you, and I would be very concerned if you weren’t nervous, to be honest,” I say with kindness. “This is a serious step for me and for you. Your consideration could be ending today, and I could have myself a new pet.” I say this in all seriousness.
I take the crop lower as I shift to stand in front of you, running the tip of the crop all the way up the front of your leg to the tip of your cock. I lift it just a few inches and ask, “Are you embarrassed by your size? Do you think you measure up to the other pets I’ve had?”
“Nooo, Miss M,” you draw it out like you are not sure if you should be. “Well, you should not be. It is a beautiful sight, and even though it is what they call average, it’s plenty big for what I have planned for it anyway,” I say with a smirk.
I emphasize my point with a quick flick to the tip, another moan coming out of you, this one noticeably louder. I choose to ignore your enjoyment and proceed with my line of questions.
“How does it feel knowing that I have complete control over your naked body?” I whisper through the hood by your ear. This is when I see the shyness being overtaken by your enjoyment. Your flaccid cock has started to harden.
“It feels wonderful, Miss M,” you add. “I have always desired to have a a Mistress like you control me in every way possible.”
My sharp reprimand of “Enough!” has your mouth shut without another word.
“Do yourself a favor and keep your answers short. And by the way, I am not any Mistress, I am “thee” Miss M, and you would be wise to remember such things.” An emphasis is made as the crop lands swiftly on your ass, this one not gentle like the last.
The red bloom from the crop spreading across your cheek turns me on, and I can't help but add another slap of the crop to create the perfect match. You yelp as it lands, and this time I shush you to be silent. "Stand in proper inspection position, arms behind your head and widen your stance," I say as I slap your inner thighs with the crop, teasing the tip of your cock with the back-and-forth light flicks.
The crop comes up to draw another line from your hip bone all the way up to your armpit, where I find you a bit ticklish. You try to put your arm down to stop the tickling, and you receive a hard smack to your ass. "How does it feel knowing I can touch any part of you whenever I want?" The crop again slides up, this time on the other side, to be met with your ticklish armpit. You move a bit but bite down on your lip to quiet the protests that want to erupt. "Good boy," I whisper in your ear.
These words have the desired effect, and your cock bobs as if in agreement. I can't help but bring the crop again to the underside and start to tease and flick with the tiniest little movements, evoking a little whine from your lips. "Are you embarrassed by your erection? Do you think it's pathetic?" I ask as your cock produces its first drop of pre-cum. I lift the hood to show you another part of your inspection as I capture the drop on the tip of my finger and bring it to the tip of my tongue for a taste. Your eyes are wide, and your cock bobs from my touch, fully erect, and your mouth parts as I taste you.
"You should feel honored," I murmur, my eyes locking onto yours. "To be inspected so thoroughly, to have every inch of you scrutinized and evaluated. This is a privilege not many receive."
Your breathing becomes ragged as I continue my slow, deliberate inspection, the crop now tracing circles around your nipples, down your chest, and along your sides. "Do you understand what it means to be my property?" I ask, the crop pausing at the sensitive spot just below your belly button. "To be at my mercy, to exist solely for my pleasure?"
Your response is a shaky nod, your lips parting as you struggle to find the words. "Yes, Miss M," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and arousal.
"Good," I purr, the crop moving lower, grazing your inner thighs once more. "Because from this moment on, your body is mine to command, mine to use, and mine to enjoy. Do you accept this?"
"Yes, Miss M," you reply, more confidently this time, the anticipation in your voice clear.
"Excellent," I say, a smile playing on my lips as I step back to admire the view. "Now, let's see just how well you can follow orders."
I take a step back, letting the silence hang in the air for a moment before giving my next command. "Spread your legs wider. I want to see everything." Your compliance is immediate, your stance widening as you expose yourself completely to my gaze.
"Good boy," I say, my voice dripping with approval. "Now, bend over and grab your ankles. Your inspection is far from over." I tighten the hood and await your new position.
I stand behind you for an awkwardly long time. I turn the crop around and let a stream of spit land perfectly on your hole, the sensation causes you to clench, “Open wide as I need help with the next part of your inspection.” I say as I spit one more time on your asshole.
"Now, you have already agreed that you would very much enjoy being penetrated, right?" I ask, knowing your answer but wanting you to say it again.
"Yes, Miss M, I want you to penetrate me, please," your voice husky with desire.
"Good boy," I murmur, running the metal tip of the crop handle along your exposed entrance, teasing the sensitive skin. "Remember, you are here to please me, to fulfil my desires. Your pleasure is secondary."
I press the crop just slightly against your hole, not enough to penetrate but enough to make you feel the pressure. "Do you understand?”
"Yes, Miss M, I understand," you reply, your voice trembling with anticipation.
I push the crop a little further, feeling the resistance give way just slightly. "You will learn to take everything I give you, won't you?"
"Yes, Miss M," you gasp, your body tensing under my touch.
"Good," I say, withdrawing the crop and stepping back.
I move in closer, pressing my body against yours, my breath hot against your ear. "Are you ready to be completely and utterly mine?" “Yes, Miss M” is your only response.
"Relax then, it will be so much easier to complete my inspection." I see your hole unclench.
"That's better," I say, my voice low and commanding. "Now, let's see just how much you can take." I will not be giving you much as the metal tip is only two inches at most. But you do not know this, and that makes me smile as I press the crop against your entrance again, this time pushing it in slowly, savoring every moment as you gasp and moan under my control.
"Much better," I purr as I slowly play with your hole, gently as there is no need to rush this. Your body needs to be broken in, in more ways than one, and I want it to start desiring my touch immediately. This does not happen from starting from a position of pain.
I continue to press the tip in and out, watching your reactions carefully. "Tell me, how does it feel to be at my mercy, to have your body explored and used as I see fit?"
"It feels... it feels incredible, Miss M," you manage to say between gasps, your voice quivering with a mix of nerves and arousal.
"Good," I say, twisting the crop slightly to increase the sensation. "Your honesty pleases me.”
I withdraw the crop and then push it in again, this time with a bit more force, eliciting a louder moan from you. I see the effects of your enjoyment in the drips on the floor from your cock.
"You are making quite the mess. Tell me, how much more will you be able to endure?" I say teasingly.
"Everything, Miss M," you strain out.
"Everything? Really?" I question.
"Yes, everything and anything. I am serious," your tone grows bolder as you say this.
"How would you feel if introduced you to my cane?" I pause and see the hitch of your breath. I am enthralled as I can almost see the thoughts swirling.
"Everything and anything, Mistress," you say quietly.
I walk and select my cruelest bamboo cane.
I walk over to you and bend over to your ear and whisper, "Don't worry, pet. I'll stop a few strokes after you start crying," as the sound of cane whooshes through the air...
